A Chance Encounter

Its late and I'm tired... the perfect time to write.

Its been two days since I've been able to produce something of value. I didn't exactly want to write another review just yet, though I've got a few lined up. I wanted to write something relevant, something interesting, something intelligent. Obviously, I'm incapable of doing anything that would merit any of those descriptions.

I've been trying to compose an essay on 'chance encounters' for the last couple of days. Sounds interesting right? Well, every time I start it, I end up just retelling (rather unfaithfully) some thing that happened to me earlier this month. I guess if my purpose was to retell the story then I wasn't exactly failing was I? But really, that's BORING. So I'll try to tackle the real thing here, now.

We met once and that was it. When I woke up on that day, little did I know that I was going to meet her. The epitome of a 'chance encounter'. Well not exactly. I did know I was going to meet a perfect stranger that particular day, my friend was tagging her along for our rendezvous at some cafe or other. What I did not know was I was going to meet HER. So, 'chance encounter' right? Right!

So, HER. Ever meet somebody for the first time and right away you like him/her. I shook her hand for the first time and she cracked a joke. A good joke. Well, I can't remember it at all actually so I can't really vouch for that. All I know is that I laughed and I liked it. I believe that first impressions don't always last but a good one can really help out. I figured I'd wait a little bit to see if it was a fluke (the impression, not the joke). But it really didn't help that, as we talked (and ate), she started to unknowingly check off a few points of interest in my list. What list you ask? Well, THE list. You know, the LIST.

One of the things on the list was the ability to eat properly. I don't mean lady-like dinner etiquette (though those aren't a always deterrent but sometimes a hindrance) but rather the capacity to enjoy eating. I don't mean face stuffing to the point of gagging either. I mean participating in the art of joyful eating, there's a big difference. She, my friends, enjoyed eating the right way, my kind of way. She was genuinely happy each time she took a bite out of her dinner, she chewed slowly as if to embrace every flavor, and she left nothing on her plate as if she would die before wasting a single morsel. Kind of a funny thing on my LIST right?

A full and pleasurable conversation ensued after dinner. The more she spoke, the more I knew that another point on my list was being filled out. She was intelligent and she could speak. Not just talk, everyone can just TALK. She could speak. Granted that she was hiding an accent, but it wasn't distracting. If it did anything at all, it really just made her all the more delightful to listen to. Perhaps it was all the Franziskaner pints that I had emibed but at that point, I was really beginning to think that she could be someone in my life. Really knew too little to know whether she would be the THE ONE, but she could be a real SOMEONE. (As a side note, at some point, our conversation turned to cars. Really kind of threw me off, didn't expect to talk cars with two girls, but it happened. SHE happen to mention that her dream car was an AUDI R8. My heart jumped and I said, "me too." Well, its one of 4 dreams cars I wish I'd have. All I could think of was "Aww. A girl after own heart.")

I was uncharacteristically smooth that night, joking, smiling, answering everything in the right manner. My friend noticed it. I kind of wish she hadn't. But because she did, she was obliged to inform me about a very important matter. She whispered to me that her friend, the one that was starting to fill out my list, was in fact, engaged. To paraphrase Mikel Jollett, my heart sunk like a stone. It's not everyday you meet someone like HER. She is bright, funny, 'good eater', and did I mention she was beautiful? No? She's beautiful! But really, I'm tired. No, not because its late (its 4 am). I'm tired because 'she's taken' or 'she's engaged' is practically the story of my life, apart from the 'you're a good friend' and 'you're like a brother' shtick that I've had to go through.

This whole 'chance encounter', was the first of this particular kind. Sure, I've met perfect strangers before with whom I've become friends merely by chance. But not quite like HER. I've wanted for someone like HER to be a 'chance encounter' since other ways weren't working. But even then I've got no luck... none whatsoever.

josemaria

Common Ground

Yes, This is a review. Well somewhat of a review, more like a refined and unfaithful retelling of a night out in the city... deal with it.

Night: Friday, April 3rd, 2009
Venue: Common Ground
Location: 206 Avenue A, New York City (East Village)
Occasion: A friend's cousin's friend's birthday.
Über-companions: Joelo D, Alexys D, Hans C...

It was a cold night. Too cold for spring in New York city. However, all that was forgotten as we entered Common Ground. This decently sized lounge was surprisingly not packed for a Friday night. However, it was around 10:30 when we arrived, perhaps still too early. This isn't to say there was no one there. In fact, the front lounge and the bar was rather bustling with activity. As you enter, the front lounge and the bar initially gives you a sports bar feel, it didn't help that there were at least three LCD TVs tuned to the NCAA Championship Game. I have nothing against sports bars, or bars that show put sports on their TV (what else would they do?), in fact,I frequent some such establishments. Let's just say, I wasn't really feeling that kind of vibe that night. Nevertheless, I followed Hans through the melee of youthful New Yorkers enjoying themselves and eventually ended up at the more comfortable and somewhat elegant end of the lounge. This part of the lounge was primarily candlelit helped by some soft yellow light fixtures on the walls.This gave the lounge a much more relaxed feel, quashing what remained of the sports bar vibe.

My friends (well some of them) know exactly what I mean when I say Lounge. Its primarily a place where you can actually LOUNGE on preferably soft and well padded furniture while sipping a favorite drink, talking to those around you with good music in the background. Its not quite a regular bar but something like it, just more comfortable, better music, and less trashy. Unfortunately, in New Jersey, and parts of New York, "Lounge" is often confused with "Club." Sometimes, when I enter what they would call a lounge, I often find myself lost in the ear-bleed-inducing garbage that a lot of dj's incorrigibly mistake for music. Fortunately, Common Ground is exactly what I mean when I think Lounge. Seating was rather comfortable, with little tables that primarily serve to hold your drinks for you. Apart from the lounge seats and tables, Common Ground has a collection of classic board games stacked at either ends of the lounge available to its patrons. I thought this was a nice touch, making for a better experience. One can only imagine how much fun Jenga is when you and your partner (partners?) are tipsy. Also a nice treasure found in the lounge is a modern jukebox filled with just the right mix of music. By modern, I mean CD's (perhaps Mp3) instead of records, and a modern sound system instead of a standalone stereo. I loved that it had The Verve Pipe, No Doubt, Modest Mouse, and Common in the same page...

Being that this venue was an actual lounge, there were servers patrolling the area, anticipating your every need. I'm sure this doesn't really come to any surprise for anybody. However, I do make a mention of them particularly because they were... lets say, good girls. For the life of me, I cannot remember what our server's name was, nor do I have the receipt in which her name is printed, but she was, in fact, my supplier of life-water (i.e. alcohol) and a cute one at that (I should warn you, the cute one working the bar is married...). There was little need for exertion in calling her attention, a little wave, a gesture with your empty glass, and zoom, you're good until you finish your newly delivered drink. Speaking of drinks, I never did find out how much shots cost since Hans (i think) took care of them. Joelo and I really stuck to pints of beer and they were well priced. Yuenglings for 5 dollars while Stella Artois and Brooklyn Lager went for 6 dollars a piece. Somewhat average for the city, although I wasn't even expecting for Yuengling to be on tap. That was a pleasant surprise.

Overall, coming to Common Ground was an enjoyable experience and I would certainly go back, bring some friends, and drink/talk/laugh/flirt the night away.

Left to Right: Josemaria, Amber, Michelle, Hans, Alexys, Joelo

Official Welcome

I officially welcome you to Programed Chaos. Please, do not be daunted by the use of the word "official." Trust me, this is as official as this venue will be or ever need to be. I say official because this is, in fact, the first piece of honest to goodness writing that will be posted here on this site. Even still, this greeting is not quite formal is it? Clearly, there will be questions as to why this particular venue for my random writings was created and in anticipation of such questions, I will answer two potential ones. Hopefully, this will satisfy some of your inquiries, however questions about the creation of this blog after this post will be gladly accepted and perhaps, someday, answered.


Who Am I?
Well, I don't know. I know what I am. As far as who I am, it's really something I've been trying to figure out for a while. I have ideas as to who I really am but too often it sounds like a list of WHAT I am (I know, I've used the word "am" like a million times). So to make things easier, I'll just combine the two.

Here's a concised list of what I've got so far:

My name is Josemaria. There is a last name attached to that but perhaps it's smart not to disclose that. In any case, if you happen to be reading this, you already must know what it is.

I am a Dude. Yes, my name happens to end with the letter "a." That does not make me a woman. In fact, Josemaria is a boy/man's (manchild?) name. Nevertheless, there are some non-dude aspects to my persona. I do like to go shopping, especially with girl friends. And, if I had a girlfriend, I'd take her shopping all the time (of course, only if my finances can afford it, I'm a dude in that part). I like fashion, although what they call haute couture these days often makes me gag. Simple and elegant and or fun, I say. I don't mind gossip, as long as its relevant. Otherwise, it's just babble-trash.

I listen to a strange mixture of music. Lets just list a few of who I listen to and you'll get the picture... Imogen Heap, The Bird and the Bee, The Magic Numbers, The Airborne Toxic Effect, Kaskade (not Cascada, please), Gaslight Anthem, Felix d'Housecat, Miguel Migs, Sneaker Pimps, Eraserheads... want more?

I have recently finished my Bachelor's degree in History. I will be going for my masters... soon. Then my PhD after that. However, so far, I am unemployed. I temporarily worked as an administrative assistant for my uncle's medical practice for a month or so. This has been the extent of my "working" career since graduating in January. This is by no means my only work experience. I had a rather incorrigible job prior to graduating. Its only redeeming measure were the friends I made as an employee.

(bored yet?)

Why Am I Launching a Blog?

I have to occupy myself somehow. I need to have something to tend to everyday (ok maybe every other day) other than my already existing pursuits. Yes, yes, I have tons of things to do, but there is a need for a literary outlet and this, for me, is it (I really don't think I can call this literary but what the heck).

I also want to share some of the things I have come across, literally and figuratively. Perhaps no one will ever find it usefull, but someone might, and the prospect of that is enough, for now.

Apart from reading, researching, and the likes, an Historian must also write. Therefore, this little venue is a perfect way for me, an unemployed, yet to get into gradschoo, aspiring historian, to keep myself in the game.


Having answer the questions to the best of my current mental capacity, I hereby bid thee farewell, for now. Understandably, these answers may not be to your full satisfaction. If the case is such then you must reply and ask more questions. You can even question the answers themselves if you have to.

Dry Running

I hereby announce that, in order for me to better plan my days of unemployment and general listlessness, I will now be publishing a blog daily, bi-daily, weekly, bi-weekly, monthly, or another system all together chosen at a later time.

Yours,

Josemaria