Hop's Thoughts

Looking out at the light grey Ithaca sky. The sun was as distant as my troubles this week. Fine goods, wine and company allowed me a brief respite from a world I've ceased to enjoy.  I take full responsibility for my actions and inaction's, but the lack of accountability in others brings my life constant turmoil.  I don't know how this will play out. I don't have the money, nor the legal clout to truly fight, but I will try. I've allowed others to renege on their responsibilities, but it has reached a booking point. My apartment is nearly uninhabitable. As look out the open window, my face gets cold, but it's pleasant. Just as a hot towel after a great meal, the cold invigorated me. Reminds me to feel. To mentally and physically push through perceived discomfort and enjoy life, even if the enjoyable parts are few. I've been away for seven days and with the exception of one person and my kids, I haven't missed a thing. Tomorrow I will awake, most like

Did your kid grow in the last 24 seconds? Do you call people on the phone or text them every song you listen to? Do you go to the gym for your health and beauty or for recognition? Do you eat weird, nasty tasty foods and supplements for you or for others? Does anyone really care about anyone else while stuck in traffic? Did you go away to relax or to show people you could? Do you think you're kids appreciate the pictures you post of them suffering? Do you think your cold is any less debilitating than others? Did you think your shitty relationship would change with marriage? Kids? Do you think 24 degrees is colder at your house than others? Do you think money issues don't affect us all? Do you think calling out your friends for not being there, brings them closer? Realize we all love seeing your kids.  In moderation. We all like to learn things about each other, but not trivial stuff. I admire anyone who wants to better themselves, for them. Your diet, is your di

Absolutely no heart from the men today. Proof that it's all about the money. All you who were duped into it being about pride and patriotism, I feel for you, buy it's not surprising, being most of your politics are based on quantity mot quality, perception over reality and money over ethics. I love the Olympics, but I'm happy for the Ukrainian X-country skier, the US half piper who recognized tho se who came (and died) before her. The Jamaicans who added levity to trying times. I'll never get the rah rah rah stuff, because it's manufactured now. What I realize, is WE need enemies to feel good about ourselves. 1980 was real and it was important, but now, it's all about capitalism and commercialism and it's been made dirty. It's no longer about the athletes and their countries, it's about the countries and their economical power. It's an uglier world than 1980 and if you had told me that would be the case, I'd never have believe

I can not sleep between the hours of 2am and 5am. It just doesn't happen.  I can sleep from 4pm to 6pm easily, but not at home, because my asshole neighbors slam the door constantly as they come in and out. I can not eat breakfast at 7am, it is not natural to eat that early, especially if I've just got out of bed.  I need time. I actually find when I visit my father, I'm starving in the morning, because we eat dinner so much later than I am used to, but when I eat at the same time at home, I am not even remotely hungry in the morning and usually will skip both breakfast and lunch.  I've noticed that I perform my best with tasks at hand when I first wake up and any time after midnight, but I'm pretty much an ADD-rattled disaster between 9am and then.  Which doesn't bode well for my future employer.  It does however drive me to entertain and instruct my kids.  It's that scattered combination of enthusiasm and inability to focus that actually plays well into my

A near perfect joyride. Exceptional acting for a horror flick. Great plot twists. Four stories that intertwine, with one essentially done within the first ten minutes, leading us in. The movie has everything. Gore, violence, humor, monsters, drop dead gorgeous ladies, a few twists and in a rare case....it all makes sense. Oh, did I mention am iconic figure? To know Sam, is to love him!

OK, this year, like so many before it is starting off the same way.  Strapped for cash to the point, I'm not sure if I'll be eating come late March and in more regular pain on a day-to-day basis than every before in my life.  Oh yeah and my apartment's ceiling is going to cave in from leaks and my management company might be evicting me when they get the letter I just sent them.  That being said there have been a few bright spots. While walking my kids to class the other day, one kid, usually outgoing and loud, was visibly not himself.  As we walked he let the group get ahead and fell back to where I was and held my hand.  Kids hold my hand all the time, but didn't expect it from him. Four lovely ladies made me feel a little less lonely on Valentine's Day. A surprise delivery of a pork chop with four sides and a container of soup, just when I needed it most. A movie that shook me to my core.  That does magical things for me. An e-mail from a long lost whic

If you see me walking in 17 degree weather with a gym bag, you know I'm not going to the gym.  Don't beep; pick my ass up! Kids (18-25) spit way too much. Hipster college kids smoking cigars while waiting for the bus back to school.  Knock that shit off. If you're waiting inside a warm office and you see that someone else has been waiting outside for 40 minutes, because there was no room in that office, don't push them out of the way so you can get on the bus 20 seconds before them.  I have finally reached that age where I have to accept "that girl is too young to sit next to when there are older people with open seats near them." Don't wear lime green jeans with a fox fur coat, because yes, we all think you're a hooker. Cheese Doodles = not bus food. If you grab the back of my seat and you touch my head, it is perfectly acceptable to apologize, I will not get mad. Talking on your cell phone while on a coach bus is obnoxious.  Trying to

Friday was Valentine's Day. A Hallmark holiday, that has become such a symbol of commercial capitalism, it's lost it's allure. That being said, we all want to share this ridiculous day with someone special.  Ideally the day consists of giving someone a token if your appreciation, a box of chocolate, a card and some dinner and eventually ends up with a sensual finale. The key word is ideally. I've done everything from jewelry to champagne & chocolate covered strawberries to ordering a pizza to spending it alone. In the end, it's really nothing more than a day in your life. We have this desire to hold into special days. Through gifts, cards, pictures or video, we've become a culture that needs a record of each happy event. But why? Isn't that feeling you had when you saw their face as they opened that gift, read that card or bit into that strawberry enough.  Why can't memories be enough. What if the important part of last Friday wasn't the pict

I'm not prepared for the snow, the scary times, the lack of transportation and the epic apocalypse that is about to hit us. Nope, I've got coffee abd three eggs. But it hasn't stopped me from thinking about my potential perfect blizzard day.  Obviously, sharing the confinement with a special someone is nice, but I'll stick to what I know for now. I'm thinking I'd awake around 10am, hitting the button on the coffee and getting back into bed. While sipping on my first cup is colm up some bacon and eggs, accompanied by a sesame bagel with cream cheese, tomato, raw red onion and a few pieces of lox. I'd leisurely eat this while perusing the news and social media. I'd then spend some time looking at the snow, maybe a walk, who knows. Live the sound of the fresh snow crunching beneath my feet. I'd throw in a movie, probably something mindless, like an action movie or comedy. I'd then start baking some chicken wings.  When the movie ended, I'd g

I was very skeptical when it was first remade, but actually liked that one. This one is so similar to the original that it is hurt simply due to udue to go the lack of originality. That being said, the mean people are much meaner (almost to the point of appearing silly), the nice people are nicer and the mother is even more of a kook. Moore nails her roll as does the young Moritz. Moritz is one of my favorite young actresses, but she might be too young for this. I believe she was 16, during filming. The movie excels in capturing the rage in the prom scene in a way that the original didn't, but not sure that is a good thing. Spacek's detachment from her actions made it so much more powerful. Better than the 2nd version, but the original is a classic.

First off, Troll Hunter is not a great movie, but for what it is, it is good. Better than Blair Witch, because it actually tells a story. I honestly don't know if this mockumentary meant to be so edgy, but it is. It pokes fun at societal gullibility, both in terms of our trust and belief in religion and government. The trolls are just metaphors for excuses we accept and in terms of religion, idols we easily worship. If god is real, why not trolls? The movie is entertaining, but has multiple plot holes and some unexplained and under used characters. It is also about 30 minutes too long. Ibalso despises the final scene. All in all, worth it for the giggles. I should also add, the landscapes are breathtaking.

If someone had told me the boy of 13, who ran all day, the young man of 23 who pranced on roof tops or the 33 year old who stood directing camps in 100° heat, that at 43 he'd be winded and aching from walking one block, he'd never have believed. If someone had told me the boy of 13 with the glove on his hand, the young man of 23 throwing touchdowns on Sundays or the 33 year old shooting threes, would not play a sport at 43 , he'd never have believed. If someone had told me the boy of 13, who flirted endlessly, the young man of 23 who thought he was married or the 33 year old who had already had two five year relationships, would be alone at 43, he'd never have believed. If someone had told me the boy of 13, who flirted endlessly, the young man of 23 who thought he was married or the 33 year old who had already had two five year relationships, would be alone at 43, he'd never have believed. If someone had told me the boy of 13 went to the best school in the c

The first half hour is hilariously funny. The lines are sharp and witty and the action sets the tone for the lunacy that would take place in the second two thirds. Is it great? No, but as far as horror/comedies go, it's superbly written and actually has good acting. The real treat is between the lines or in this case, between the walls. The entire movie is a social commentary on the Reagan Era and how wealth begot wealth at the expense of the "forgotten" poor. The allegories and metaphors are not difficult to read, but they are hammered home. So much so that the leather clad "man" and the classy on the outside "woman" are perfect caricatures of Ronald & Nancy. So much so, that the man calls her mommy. Even the actual people under the stair's clothing is representative of the punk, then alternative, then grunge era, known for it's anti-establishment views and look.  Craven's boldness in being so blatantly obvious in his disdain for c

I'm laying here in the dark. The hum of the boiler below rumbles. Reminding me that no matter how quiet it gets, there is always something to remind me of life. The monotony of this noise reminds me of those I know. Ah, a brief respite as the temperature drops. For seconds I can listen to nothing. A dog barks, another reminder. I stress over the tiniest things and I can't stop. I used to have this uncanny ability, but it us gone. Hunger starts to creep in, but I think back to my massive dinner. Tonight will be more simple and healthy. I miss my dad and my brother, my sister-in-law and my canine nephew. They are a phone call away and I forget them. I miss my grandmother. I miss my mother. I miss her so much. She's visited me recently, but that's a blog fir another day. Instilling wisdom from beyond. The boiler has started up and us gaining steam, while I run out. Steam, money, patience. Seems I'm running out of everything these days. Hope? Fading away into wh

While doing my storm preparation shop the other day, I bought all the essentials. Coffee, milk, veggies, beans, whole wheat wraps, some proteins such as pork chops, sausage and ground chicken and then I decided to succumb to a lifelong mystery. I bought a box of Kraft Macaroni and cheese. I was disgusted. Not only with the awful taste, but with the knowledge so many parents give this shit to their kids and call it a meal. It was absolutely revolting. Now I don't confess to liking mac & cheese as it is, but I do like it on occasion. Homemade is decent, but I'll admit it, my favorite is KFC, which most likely is a processed variety. That being said, certain things dawned on me as I chowed down on this slop and I realized the product is a metaphor for life in today's world. It's a simple substitute for something that isn't that difficult in the first place. Showing how little effort we are willing to put forth in order to be fulfilled. It's fake, much lik

I have so many passions I can't afford and so little passion to be able to. It's not always been this way, but pain causes strange reactions not only to one's body, but to one's mind. The other night I thought I was about to have a panic attack. If you have never had one, it's about the oddest feeling ever. Luckily, whatever the feeling was, it subsided and I actually fell asleep. The relief was actually exhausting. Not being able to walk normally is starting to scare me. Last year I was walking about a mile a night and losing weight while eating like a horse. Two weeks ago I ate practically nothing for five days and gained two pounds. Frustration is an understatement. To think one night of basketball a week and I was able to maintain a weight of 40-50 lbs less than I am now. Have you ever started to feel like you've lost the ability to connect to others (in general). It is somewhat frightening. I'm really starting to question social media as a way t

Greatest hoax or greatest slap in the face? I believe the latter. It's just too easy to dismiss, but then why? Why create something that was real, just to rub people's faces in it. Also, to have the entire film be a hoax would be to discredit the likes of Harring, Warhol and Banksy himself. To create this facade that this subculture doesn't really exist, all to say that art critics and society has no taste, seems counter productive when you look at many of the artist's messages. Guetta did in fact mortgage his business, rent the studio and make tons of money. Banksy might not have intended that. He may have wanted to prove that he and others were the real artists, but hype is more powerful than the message or the art itself. He did so and probably regrets it. Maybe he felt conned by Guetta, but who knows? The result is brilliant and an homage to real artists, but with a strong social message. The very title tells you that the message intended is very real and the

I'm considering taking a month off. A month of from the norm. There are people who I've come to know who sicken me. The sight of them, even their words, cause stomach churning nausea. There are others I've come to appreciate tenfold. My critical eye seems to be cast on everyone, including myself lately. I'm bored. Bored with chats about weather, marital woes and how hard life is. I live a boring life, spending hours laying alone thinking about past times where I spent hours with people wishing I was somewhere else. I'm where I wanted to be then and there is where I want to be now. Cared for, loved. Unappreciated then, I crave it now. Boredom has always been my undoing. It's stripped me of common sense, of decency and of doing what's right. It's cost me money, relationships and friends. It's turned hours of lost time into days, weeks and months. I fear years.  Boredom is my cross, but it's not a heavy burden, but more like a parasite. Maybe it