Life path number (horoscopes are B.S.)

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I don't really believe in numerology or astrology, and I certainly don't live my life by it, but it can be fun to just check it out and see how correct, or totally false, the predictions can be.

Results may vary-- sometimes something like a horoscope can seem so dead-on one day, but the next day it's dead wrong. The reason why is, despite its cosmic-psychic allure, they are man-made inventions and man is not always right. Right?

Anyway, I was watching the Tyra show the other day and the topic was Life Force Numbers. The trick is to add the digits in your birth date together until you get a single-digit number.

For example, I added the numbers in my birth date together (1 + 1 + 8 + 1 + 9 + 8 + 5) and got 33, so then I added 3 + 3 to get 6. Six is my life force number and also the number of the beast. Any relation?

Tyra's life force number "expert" only gave a few descriptors of the number. Apparently, sixes need to be in charge and have a natural maternal/paternal instinct. I did some "research" on the internet to see what other qualities I supposedly possess due to this number, and the results varied from site to site. So who decides this stuff? Just another reason not to live your life by made-up B.S.

Divine Lorraine

Years ago, when I was a university student, I wrote a non-fiction piece about a building in Philadelphia which has always amazed me.

I don't have the essay anymore, I think it's in a file stowed away back home, but I found some of the bits I was working with when I first started the essay in an old e-mail. Here it is:

Divine Lorraine is crumbling. The once majestic hallways have sunken, fallen victim to rotten floorboards and mildewed walls. Stairways seep in, broken windows let in weather and pigeons-- rustling, roosting, brooding.


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A pale, sick light, the kind associated with hungover November mornings, enters through an accidental skylight, opaquely illuminating the lobby's tiled floors, still regal though covered with the detritus of leaves, newspapers, and time.

Despite its rough treatment recently, Divine Lorraine stands tall. Passing by Divine Lorraine is the highlight of my journey up North Broad street, every time.

I enjoy catching that first glimpse of the words in red neon lettering: "Divine Lorraine Hotel," strung together like wire atop the building. Father Divine put the sign up when he bought the building in 1948. Seemingly out of place with the rest of the architecture, the sign is a verbal anachronism, a quirky afterthought.

Father Divine's hotel was open to anyone: men, women, poor, rich, black, white, so long as they followed his rules of modesty and chastity while at the hotel.

13th street offers a view of the back of the hotel, beyond the empty lots riddled with weeds and garbage, a grimy giant amongst low income housing. Divine Lorraine is a living testament to the memory of North Philly's grander days.

Divine Lorraine is ten stories high and was built on four acres of land at the intersection at Broad, Ridge and Fairmount streets. It was designed in 1892 by Willis G. Hale and originally called the Lorraine Apartments, luxury homes for Philadelphia's newly made, nouveau riche industrialists. This was the time when Rittenhouse Square was becoming passé and North Philadelphia was the place to be. It is the exact opposite today.

I love this building so much. It's historical and totally crazy, with its beautiful architecture and interior design, and the huge murals inside of Abraham Lincoln, Father Divine's personal hero. I heard they're trying to convert Divine Lorraine into condominiums. I'd like to see them do that without ruining the integrity of the building.

Great photos of the Divine Lorraine's interior and exterior here.

Cin Cin!

I remember getting into an argument with some stupid girl, over e-mail, over the spelling of the informal Italian toast, "Cin Cin!"

She whined that it was "Chin Chin!" In fact, that is what prompted the argument when I replied to her email, which she signed off with "Chin Chin!" and pointed out to her her spelling mistake. It's Italian, and it means to 100 years of good luck, or something to that effect. The point being it's Italian and if it was spelled "Chin Chin" it would be pronounced "Kin Kin."

This is a pretty funny joke related to the toast.

Don't say "Cin Cin" when you're toasting at a Japanese restaurant, or people will look at you funny!

Stop telephonin me!

If you haven't already seen Lady Gaga's new epic music video, "Telephone," featuring Beyonce, then I don't know what you're waiting for! The video premiered last week and it's quite a cinematic expression.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GQ95z6ywcBY

The video starts off with Lady Gaga entering a female prison, ladies licking the jail bars and wolf-whistling as she is taken to her cell. At one point Lady Gaga jumps on the bars after she is locked-in and a censored shot of her crotch is shown. "I told you she didn't have a dick," one of the guards says to the other. What a hilarious way to dispel that rumor!

:P

I need a new phone! One that doesn't drop my calls in the middle of a conversation.

Readership...

So I'm starting to notice that the only readers of my blog are spambots who use my comments box as their personal advertising space. How about coughing up some dough for that ad, Spammy?

On a more serious note, I would like to get my writing "out there," so to speak, for the world to see and, perhaps, enjoy. It's not as if I need the validation of others to make my writing meaningful, but I think it could be fun to write regularly for a readership and engage in a dialogue with them through this format. It's intriguing to me, and a challenge to see if I can command the attention of a fickle audience over the internet.

I asked a colleague from high-school for advice on how she gets people to read her blog. She didn't give me any advice, but sent me a link to some website, written by someone else. A little cold, but I got the point. If someone doesn't want to give up their secret to "success," then I will have to learn for myself.

Here's to finding an engaging group of readers and writers!

My title has been restored...

... and all is right in the world.

Thanks Yelp Elite Crew.

"Confidence is the stain they can't wipe off..."

Damn, Lil' Wayne can be deep sometimes. Eminem is the star on this song, though, and kills it. I am so happy he's back.

Yelp Elite Badge

I would really REALLY love it if I got my badge back today. It's been four days so far and none such luck. I wasn't even misbehaving!

Jan Svankmajer is cooler than Tim Burton

If you're anything like me, you're sick to death of Tim Burton's crappy remakes of classic films. I watched his remake of Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory (why was it remade in the first place? Gene Wilder's Wonka cannot be beat)and was at once shocked and appalled at how astoundingly bad the whole thing was, especially Johnny Depp's Jacko-inspired Wonka and the CG Oompa Loompas. Just plain horrible.


This time, I am not wasting my hard-earned money at the movie theatre for Burton's latest rip-off. If you have Netflix, or a video store card, please do yourself a favor and check out Jan Svankmajer's Alice in Wonderland, an absolute masterpiece in surreal stop-motion animation and a true reinterpretation of the highly-regarded tale. Check out this clip:



Don't get me wrong, a lot of Burton's earlier work is pretty good (Edward Scissorhands, Beetlejuice, The Nightmare Before Christmas), but it just seems like recently he's losing it, or perhaps relying too heavily on computer generated graphics (a trend I am so sick of and wish away). Whatever the case, Svankmajer is cooler than Burton!

Growing up

How does one decide a career path? As a child, I never knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. I would change my mind daily. One day I wanted to be an astronaut, the next an artist, the next an acrobat. I guess, early on I knew I wanted to be something that began with the letter "A," but I had no idea that the position of "assistant" would one day be my future.

Don't judge me. I have a college degree and a certificate in writing. I could go places, if only I knew where I wanted to go. How do people decide this kind of stuff? It scares the crap out of me!