Me and the Music

There I was in my little black dress, gracefully accessorized, well, at least I like to think so, and ready for my debut at the symphony. Yes, I was a symphonic virgin up until this past weekend and I am proud to say that I am virgin no more. I have always wanted to go to the symphony and I guess the years of indirectly pestering my significant other paid off. I’ve always appreciated the classical arts, on a mediocre level, but after this particular evening the sense of perception that I have for this genre of music has effectively intensified. To describe it in words, I can’t, as I don’t think I’ll do it any justice, for it was too beautiful for any linguistic form. All I can offer is to share my experience.

I’ll never forget that night: sitting in all that open space filled with the charming sounds emitted from the instruments - it was not only heavenly but it was sheer exhilaration. I have never been so moved. I sat back and inhaled what seemed to be nothing but absolute purity released into the air, and I was engulfed in nothing but flawless waves of sound. Every time there was a shift in tone, I felt my heart either sink or race to keep up with the flight of emotions. Watching these musicians submerge themselves in their music and play with such passion was breathtaking and precious. I was swept away by emotions and feeling enraptured in song, my emotions got the better of me. I was a mess. Thankfully, I was wearing waterproof mascara. It was an exuberant two hours that I will hold as one of my most memorable moments.

Once my odyssey was over, I couldn’t help but feel utter privilege to have been seated before this group of artists who immersed me in their work and took me on a journey to a harmonic place where I want to go again. Since then, every time I listen to the sounds of a symphony, whether it be in the car, while I’m cooking dinner or soaking in a bath, they never fail to remind me of the place where I once felt united with music.

Spring Tidings

Hello ladies, it’s your favorite unseen blogger here ready to celebrate the seasonal change by embarking on the topic that we females just love to dish about… Men. After all, it is mating season.

There is, of course, so much to be said about the topic that takes over many of our conversations, but I am going to have to limit opening this Pandora’s Box for the sake of time, as I should be writing an essay and not blogging.

Now. Men! What can be said? They can be brutish yet still sexy, detached yet eager, bold yet timid, handsome yet internally ugly, strong yet very weak… and in some sad cases… they just lack overall goodness. Whatever the case may be, man has inspired this episode that I’m about to share with you. So as difficult as this may seem to believe (and I say this with such sarcasm) I made a friend. Yes, a friend. A male friend in fact, that I just so happened to have met in one of my classes a little while ago. I do sometimes wonder if he qualifies as being just a friend since he insists on buying me coffee and walking me to my classes. I’m sure I could get lunch out of him too if I really wanted, but, that’s just not my style. He is a nice fellow, and I do want to consider that he's just my friend. As a matter of fact, I refuse to believe anything to the contrary since he is fully aware of my significant other, whose name I mention in every second sentence of our conversations. Though it makes me wonder why this doesn’t phase my friend. It seems to just go past him like I’m saying words like dog, car or shoe. He’s undeterred and he seeks more of my attention every time I see him. Now, I like to think I have a decent IQ, but, what gives? I’m confused. Is it a boost to his male ego to conquer someone else’s territory? Is it the challenge of harvesting a bounty from lands that are difficult to cultivate? After all, man never waged war when something was freely granted to him. This must be it! I mean, it's obvious right? It’s the Pulitzer Prize of answers. It’s the nature of the beast. Man always wants what he can’t have. Needless to say ladies, in all fairness, we must admit that this disease is not just an affliction of man alone, but also women and I will be the first to admit… I am guilty as charged. But, since we’re not here to talk about us or our complexities , we shall go on. I truly believe that we will never understand the rudimentary ingredients that form the male persona- you know, that persona that perpetually makes our blood stir and hearts palpitate. So, all we can really do is speculate. Sometimes I think that the motivation driving my friend may just have something to do with that infamous little trait dubbed ego. It’s quite the force to be reckoned with you know. It’s the source of a gent’s manliness. Let me give you my spin on this trait, Ego 101. Now, when you encounter a subdued ego, bust out the sexy negligee ladies, cuz the odds are, he’s going to dig you more than he digs himself and this makes him a keeper… BUT ladies, when you encounter an ego that’s unyielding, point those Manolos in the opposite direction and start walking, cuz there’s no moving that sucker. You might as well make your way to the pet store, cuz you’re more likely to receive affection from fish. Essentially, the great thing about men is that there is an assortment of them, a variety to choose from. It’s like shopping at Barney’s for a new designer bag but so much better - you never have to settle for less than what you think you deserve. Remember that point, NEVER just settle. Now… back to my story. So, this friend of mine- Do I really need to question his motives for wanting to be a gentleman? Perhaps this is simply his nature. Perhaps he’s one of the few left that believe in chivalry. Perhaps, I'm just looking too far into it and not taking it at face value. Well, whatever his cause for being so nice to me, I’m just going to accept it and enjoy it because I know he knows, I'm well worth it.

Stuck in Reverse

Hello my fellow intellectuals, it's your favourite Cosmo Girl here with some new thoughts, just in time for the long weekend to make you ponder over some of life's interesting phenomenas.

Let me kick off this blog by asking you: Have you ever met anyone that has emotionally touched you in such a way that you felt nothing but pure sympathy for them? And when I say sympathy, I mean sympathy on a level that has given you the urge to swiftly run to a telephone booth and come out wearing nothing but a red cape, a pair of tight blue spandex shorts, a bustier, black boots and the strength to save them like some super hero that saves children from burning buildings? Needless to say, I have recently had this urge, and my natural inclination was, of course, to help. My time at university is quickly coming to an end, and I must say, it has given me the opportunity to meet different personalities, and, anyone who knows yours truly, knows how much I enjoy meeting people. Now, some people I've met, I like... some, I dislike... and others... I just don't know what to think. But one thing is for certain, everyone has a story. Someone I recently met, who, for the sake of respecting this individual's confidentiality, we will call “Robinson”, struck a cord with Cosmo Girl. Robinson comes across as a callous individual, disconnected from life, but still quite intriguing at the same time. I very much enjoy Robinson’s company. You see, Robinson has a very cynical view of the world. In fact, I think it's safe to assume that Robinson's jaded. Why, you ask? Well, that's not for me to share. But what I can share, are my thoughts. If only I could make Robinson see that life is a wonderful journey that sometimes tests our boundaries, but also builds our endurance by pushing us down so that we can emerge stronger people. How do I help Robinson to emerge? How do I guide someone from the obscured path that leads to the death of their immortal self? How do you entice someone that lives in a dark world besieged by mountains of built up anger and pent up frustration to see the light that warms our faces and embraces our hearts with delight? The answer remains a mystery to me and I must say... I don't know. Therefore, I feel helpless. I can’t help Robinson. But what I do know: everyone struggles. People struggle to find their identities... some people struggle to find love... some people struggle to find answers to those questions in life that don't necessarily have definitive answers in this world of mysterious woes. In the end, all I can be to Robinson is a source of comfort. I can listen. I can try and muster all the forces inside this body of mine, wiggle my nose, like a genie, and maybe, just maybe I can grant Robinson freedom: freedom from this fight to fulfill this incredible void, freedom from confusion, freedom from self destruction. But, till then, I shall remain hopeful. I know, in the end, with some nurturing and guidance Robinson will eventually look out the window and see the sun shining brightly and I will be comforted in knowing that Robinson is free and it will be the beginning of a new day for my dear friend Robinson.