Resurrecting Me

it was nearly 6 months ago that i last made an entry. and since then i can't even begin to tell you the amount of things i have accomplished. in short, i ended up quitting the job i last blogged about nearly 3 months after starting, traveled throughout Spain and Morocco for 2 weeks and landed a new (even better) job within the span of 4 days doing PR for Target.

i'm always amazed how quickly time seems to go by and 2009 will undoubtedly be one of those years that i look back on and really reflect on everything that i've gone through. starting with getting laid off, to the looney overnight news monitoring i was conducting, my brief stint as a social media pro and now working with a highly recognized retailer. i can't say enough about growing up in a short window of time. it's both rewarding and frightening.

the downside to it all is that i've been so busy working my way through everything--surviving that it leaves little room to actually acknowledge and enjoy the journey. there's really no time to stop and smell the roses, as they say. i've been too busy trying to figure out what is next and that is where i'm struggling to rationalize what it is i'm trying to accomplish with it all.

so much has been put into perspective and there's no question that i am finally seeing the repercussions of living in new york. it's a big city and when you're trying to make sense of it all it can be overwhelming to navigate. i've definitely noticed a change from the kid who should up with one bag in tow nearly 3 years ago. parts of me like the new guy and parts of me really can't decide whether he's someone i'd be proud of hanging out with.

you can age so quickly in this city. between working hard and just surviving the day-to-day rat race-- it's almost like 2 years somehow roll up into 1 and you're left to wonder where it all went. it's always different. you're always changing. there's really no routine, but that's the draw. but sometimes you need a moment to kind of let the world whirl without finding it necessary to make it stop-- you're just in it and it'll go on whether you want it to or not.

the question as of late is whether i can see myself being here for the long term. the truth is i'm realizing that maybe it's a nice place--- for now. i'm keeping living abroad in my sights and i've even begun wondering if maybe the west coast is somewhere i'd like to be -- San Fran, San Diego but never LA.

with my new job, i feel like i've finally found a career. it's the first time i can confident write that statement and not feel like its a chore to wake up every day. i've said that it feels like this is where i should have been right out of school, but needless to say it wouldn't be the same without the experiences that have led up to it. i'm working on creative, exciting and strategic projects for a client and brand that i can believe in, appreciate and genuinely liked even before i was working for them. all the components that i craved for and desired in a PR career are coming to life and it feels good to know that what i am a part of is now about building myself, my reputation and my credibility as a PR guy. no longer is it about how i can pad this for my resume because everything i do is worthwhile and it's something i can be proud of.

when i started this blog, i never intended it to be a live journal. i've said it many times before. now it feels good to open up on it and share with my closest friends what it is that goes on in this constant stream of thoughts i refer to as my head. i'm working through things now. i've seen friends come and go in new york, i've made close ties with those that i'm striving to keep around and building new bonds with those i've deemed worthy of my time, love and respect.

at the end of the day, it's about value. the question is just what and who you value most. once that component is left out of the equation--you wonder what it is you're doing here.

3 Months To The Day

three months to the day i was offered an account executive position with a boutique fashion, entertainment, lifestyle and luxury public relations agency. i was ecstatic at the opportunity to finally be working again and ultimately thrilled that i was finally in the industry i had always seen myself in. i also really felt lucky to find out three months to the day that i got laid off from brainerd that i was now gainfully employed with benefits once again.

goldstein communications (www.goldsteincom.com) has hired me to co-manage the social media and consumer marketing group. the agency is a boutique firm with approximately six employees and it is currently being run out of the ceo's penthouse apartment in gramercy park. i heard about the job after a fellow gator friend whom i studied pr with knew the guy in charge of hiring the new account executive. she forwarded him my resume after i had let her know in january that i had been laid off. amazingly enough she kept me in mind when the opportunity arose and from there it was up to me to interview, follow up, interview again and cross my fingers. 

my first week as a full time employee went quickly. i mean why shouldn't it when i spend nearly my entire day on twitter or facebook for my clients. i put together three new business proposals and pitched one publicity proposal to actor Elias Koteas. i found out friday morning we had landed Elias as a full-time client and that he would be my first official account. therefore it is up to me to make sure you guys grow to learn and love elias. it really is kind of a dream come true because when i first chose to enter the pr route i wanted to take the publicist route and i'm doing it. 

in moving from a mid size agency to a boutique firm i have come to realize that the level of responsibility and the burden to succeed is increased. there is really no one to lean on when you are essentially running and managing the account by yourself. admittedly, the challenge scares me a bit, but i know that i can handle the pressure and the amount of exposure and experience i will gain from just jumping in with both feet will reap some serious benefits in the long run. 

i don't think it has fully sunk in that i am finally spending my days at a job where i can be and do what i use to waste time at my previous job doing. it almost doesn't feel like work and the work day flies by. i won't lie though, by the end of the week, i was ready for my 2-4-1 happy hour. i guess if that's not any indication that i have officially re-entered the workforce, i don't know what is.

i feel fortunate, grateful and above all else happy about the path i'm taking. there's so much left to still see and do and there couldn't be anything greater. 

road rash

i wanted some adventure. i got some adventure. today, on what felt like the first day of spring, i rode a bike. m.m. decided to take the day off given the weather was so nice. we decided to take a bike ride through central park, however to get to central park you must ride the bike to the park first. 

i've ridden bikes before. many. it was the first time i had rode a bike through the busy streets of manhattan, and i have to tell you, it was one of the most thrilling experiences i've had in a long time. the rush of the traffic, mixed with the danger, was exhilarating. 

the type of bike i borrowed m.m. had the kind of pedals you have to wear special 'lock in' shoes, where your shoes are literally snapped into the pedals so as to facilitate pedaling. the true roadsters wear them and they take some getting use to. i learned the hard way. 

snapped into place, the only way to get out is to maneuver your foot side ways and break free. easier said then done when you've never had to wear these particular sneakers or ride with these kind of pedals. so, picture your feet stuck to the pedals of a bike. now picture yourself approaching a red light and slowing down. you lose momentum and normally you'd put your foot down to keep you upright. now imagine that you can't get your foot unlatched from the pedals you're essentially locked into. you're. going. to. fall. over. it's like watching a tree fall in the woods. it's just going to fall over. there's no where for you to go, there's no bracing your fall, and when you feel your body tilting-- you pretty much just have to give into gravity and pray there is something to break your fall. 

my experience was a bit more dangerous. and the more i think about it, the more i realize how severe the situation could have really been. we were riding our bikes up third avenue at approximately 11 a.m. the streets were busy and i was already a little uneasy with the amount of traffic. cycling on the left side of this four lane street, i begin to approach a delivery truck that is double parked. i glance behind to see if the car approaching in the right lane is going to allow me to go around and continue my pace. i hadn't unlocked my feet, so i was strapped in and going no where. the first car goes by not letting me go around the delivery truck. it's fine because i still hadn't slowed down. the second car approaches and it looks like he's not going to let me go around. i panic. i come to a complete stop and BOOM! 

i fall on the side of the car. the car continues to move i scrape along the side of the car, hit the tire with my right arm and fall straight to the floor. now imagine if i had fallen two seconds earlier. i would have been on the floor and unaware if the car would have had enough time to stop. or if the car behind him had seen me hit the car and wouldn't have stopped. just typing this i realize how awfully dangerous the whole situation was. 

of course, my first emotion was embarrassment, then it was fear, but in the middle of the street there's little time to let anything really sink in. i got back on the bike and kept riding. i laughed. assessed the road rash wounds i will undoubtedly have scars from (minor scars) and put aside any anxiety that may have surfaced having to continue my ride along that busy street. because what was I to do? if i wanted to go home, i would have to ride the bike back anyways, and just because you get knocked down doesn't mean you just turn around and give up. 

gladly, i had a good attitude about it because the remainder of the ride, once in the park, was one of the most amazing days i've had in new york to date. the weather was perfect. i reached corners of central park i'd never been. i had a great tour guide in m.m. and i felt awesome coasting through the park, in the cool breeze and going with what came. 

we rode north to the top of the park, over to the west side and down to 72nd street before picking up a hoagie, eating outside in the sun and of course stopping at our favorite bakery Levain for a delicious double chocolate chip cookie. the ride back i insisted we avoid the busy avenue and ride down the west side piers, which is meant for bikers and joggers. the ride was much simpler, however getting across columbus avenue and amsterdam i approached a light and fell again, but this time on a delivery boy. he simply looked at me and said "what the hell is wrong with you?" 

from a far it must have looked like i had never rode a bike in my life. you wouldn't know i was locked into my pedals, you would simply think i was some idiot who'd never rode a bike in his life. you have to laugh because it's funny. and i felt for once that i wasn't taking life so seriously. that i was just letting it go, scratches, bumps, dry blood and all. it felt good. i felt human, no longer numb. 

we rode 10 miles today, and it was perfect. trust me-- i have the scars to prove it. 

find it.

lately i have felt that maybe it's time for me to fuck up. hear me out. i have recently felt like my entire life, i've only done exactly what is expected, that i've simply flowed through the motions to end up just like everybody else-- indebted to a life filled with meaninglessness.

before we can even walk, we're put on this path with the expectations so clearly drawn in the sand for us. it's almost impossible for us to veer off course unless our adolescent hormones get the best of us from the onset and we take the path last traveled.

i have recently felt like i have been living so meticulously and methodically. everything so carefully planned out and purposefully pursued. like it's been about chasing a specific standard in my head and ignoring the process with which i am going through to get there. 

i want to fuck up. it sounds much worse and perhaps chaotic than i really intend it to be, but the reality is i want to just do something without it being so damn organized and controlled. 

my lease is up in june and i've been toying with the idea of just getting on a plane to madrid, spain. no real destination in mind, but simply figuring it all out when i got there. i mean it'd be the first time that i'd actually have to just figure shit out on the spot and cope with what may come my way. there's something so refreshing about that.

i have nothing tying me to new york. i'm single. no kids. no real job. no pets. it's almost like a green light to just get on a plane and get away.

so what do i do? and where is this coming from? maybe i'm just looking for some adventure, maybe i'm contracting a bad case of cabin fever and just need to get away for a while. leave the material world that has sucked me in and i'm finding hard to shake off. i always thought that my life could be fulfilled by luxuries, but its all so fleeting. everything is superficial. it's like a halogram, it's there, but it's not tangible and it's not something you (I) should hold on to. 

sadly, i've been absorbed more and more into that world, and i'm realizing i don't like it. i want more experiences, more stories, anecdotes, memories, adventures, moments in life that i can look back on and appreciate, value and reflect upon. the easiest way to rationalize this thought is that, if there were a fire and all my things were burned and turned to ash, i wouldn't miss any of it. it wouldn't be an ideal situation, but it's all just STUFF. stuff that, when it's gone, i still have my friends, my family and everything that's made me-- dru up to this point. i think that's far more rewarding than any price tag. 

i'm looking for something to stimulate me, inspire me and get me out of this corporate mundane life defined by material possessions. get me out and help me find it. 

Change

If you knew that you would die today,

Saw the face of God and love,
Would you change?
Would you change?

If you knew that love can break your heart
When you're down so low you cannot fall
Would you change?


How bad, how good does it need to get?
How many losses? How much regret?
What chain reaction would cause an effect?
Makes you turn around,
Makes you try to explain,
Makes you forgive and forget,
Makes you change?


If you knew that you would be alone,
Knowing right, being wrong,
Would you change?


If you knew that you would find a truth
That brings up pain that can't be soothed
Would you change?


How bad, how good does it need to get?
How many losses? How much regret?
What chain reaction would cause an effect?
Makes you turn around,
Makes you try to explain,
Makes you forgive and forget,
Makes you change?


Are you so upright you can't be bent? 
If it comes to blows are you so sure you won't be crawling?
If not for the good, why risk falling?
Why risk falling?

If everything you think you know,
Makes your life unbearable,
Would you change?


If you'd broken every rule and vow,
And hard times come to bring you down,
Would you change?


If you knew that you would die today,
If you saw the face of God and love,
Would you change?


If you saw the face of God and love
If you saw the face of God and love
Would you change?

-Tracy Chapman

Skinner Box

On my cab ride up to work today, as the impending snow storm began to fall outside, I began to think about how quickly my "Hell Week" flew by. It got me to think about how our predisposition of any event or moment can often be the worst part or most agonizing aspect -- even when you know what to expect. 

In a New York Times article published December 6, 2008, Dr. Gregory Berns, a neuroeconomist who uses brain-scanning technologies to decode the decision-making systems of the human mind, conducted a study centered on the effects of fear, perpetuated by the current economic environment, on our decision-making. He writes, "...while fear is a deep-seated and adaptive evolutionary drive for self-preservation, it makes it impossible to concentrate on anything but saving our skin by getting out of the [Skinner] box intact." 

Experimental psychologist B.F. Skinner developed the Skinner box in 1950 to test the operant conditioning learning behavior of laboratory animals through their association of flashing lights and levers with either rewards or punishments. At its simplest form, a green light would yield the rat a reward and a red light would yield an electroshock. The animal would quickly learn to associate the green light with good and the red with bad. 

Dr. Berns conducted a similar study with human participants in an MRI. An excerpt from his article follows: 

"We attached electrodes to the tops of [participants] feet. Although not unbearably painful, the shocks were designed to be unpleasant enough that the individual would prefer to avoid them altogether. 

The kicker was that they had to wait for the shocks. Every trial began with a statement of how big the shock would be and how long they would have to wait for it: a range of one to almost 30 seconds. For many people, the wait was worse than the shock. Given a choice, almost everyone preferred to expedite the shock rather than wait for it. Nearly a third feared waiting so much that, when given the chance, they preferred getting a bigger shock right away to waiting for a smaller shock later. It sounds illogical, but fear -- whether of pain or losing a job -- does strange things to decision-making." 

Which is a nice introduction to my inspiration for this entry. Haven't we all, at some point or another, sat with dreaded anticipation of an event or moment and in hindsight realized it was never as bad as we were dreading? 

It is the anticipation of what's to come, you can include the fear of uncertainty in this, that causes us more misery, frustration and stress than the actual act/deed itself. At the onset of this week, I was miserable at the thought of having to work the entire week the 8 hour shifts until 11 p.m., culminating with three graveyard shifts this weekend. I sit here on Sunday night half way through my final shift and feel like it wasn't really all that bad.

Translate this to me losing my job and having to make sacrifices, like this graveyard shift, lack of weekends and sleep deprivation, and somewhere down the line I'll sit and feel "like it wasn't really all that bad." Perhaps anything in hindsight seems OK to us, but with foresight we would be less inclined to make those sacrifices and we'd miss out on some incredible learning experiences. Can we really come to appreciate the green lights/rewards without suffering through the red lights/punishments? What is winning without some sweat? What is triumph without some work? 

I believe that success without adversity lacks challenge, perspective and appreciation. 

Professionally Numb

While I was sitting waiting for a friend at a local restaurant in Midtown, I overheard two older gentlemen discussing their jobs over lunch. They sat casually nibbling on the pre-made sweets and seemed to be venting to one another about their work environment. Both were unkempt fellows with a subtle scientist-aire to them-- Einstein had no time for vanity. 

I overheard one of the gentleman say: "This has got to be one of the worst places I have ever worked." It was evident he had had a number of occupational transitions over the years and he knew what he was talking about. However, his adamant dismissal of his current professional make up mirrored almost verbatim what a colleague of mine who works full time at the agency I am freelancing with said. "This is probably the worst place ever." 

So, it got me thinking about my current professional situation. I recently went on a second interview for a strategic communications firm and have been probed by my current strategic communications agency for a potential opportunity with the firm. I am thinking it is a full time position they have advertised on the career sites. Truth be told, both jobs have the very stale, dry and mundane "corporate" taste I was so passionately trying to rid myself of. 

Given the current state of the environment, have we all been reduced to simply remaining content with what we've come to accept as the norm? Are people to remain confined to their cubicles and ride this wave until 2010; secretly praying they won't get laid off, but wishing they were somewhere, anywhere else other than there? Because disrupting the status quo is far too frightening when remaining what I am dubbing "professionally numb" keeps things on par. 

The economy is messing with people's minds. I blame the media for perpetuating the situation and reporting only the stock markets continuous plummets. I'd imagine consumer confidence would see some rebound if the current state of affairs didn't plague our every move. Perhaps letting the dust settle, taking a page out of foreign countries' books (closing down the stock market for a week), would allow Americans some much needed rest from all of this dooms-day news. 

Given that the fate of my career remains unwritten, I have to ask myself what is the most important thing for me moving forward right now. Chairman Bernanke seems to think the economy will rebound in 2010... wow, we're only 3 months into 2009 and we've already fast forwarded to 2010? Quite frankly, predicting an economic rebound is about as useful as predicting the weather two months from now... useless. So, is it wise for me to take a job that will leave me bored, unchallenged and quite frankly unhappy simply to rid myself of the burden of continuing to find something in this treacherous economy? Or, should I ride it out, continue my graveyard freelance gig and hope that when I fall, I fall where I truly want to land? 

Sometimes it is difficult to make a decision without thinking about the fiscal aspects of the decision. I think it is this outlook that has brought America to where it is. So much is wrapped up in our wealth, money and financial success that without it, we're lost, crumbled and sadly desperate. Perhaps if we valued, as the Europeans do, more substantial things rather than material possession and worth based on 'stuff'. 

It is not fair of me to generalize all Americans, as it would be hypocritical of me to point a finger when I am just as guilty as my neighbor. It is easy to blame others or find someone to take the fall, but when it really comes down to it...we're the one's who ultimately decide what is best for us. I'm still trying to figure it all out and I have found that my starting point has been with what I don't want-- to feel numb. 

East Village Bath House

nestled in the east village exists a landmark of relaxation proportions that serves as the perfect oasis. it was one of those experiences you find difficult to not enjoy for every ounce of sweat that beads off you in your choice of steam room, russian sauna or turkish sauna. surprisingly there is a difference, but neither will leave you high and dry. 

it is a therapeutic detox rich with some cultural traditions and a new york establishment since 1892. the front desk men, who i could confidently speculate were aptly named boris and ludvig, were not the friendliest of men with their heavy russian laden english, but this is not your regular day at the spa. 

it is your "diva-like" spa day stripped down to its barest of skivvies. it's simple. clean. and one could only imagine typical of bath houses. but you can only speculate. the place is filled with your regulars and novices. your pores have never felt so open (they will thank you) and apart from getting a 30 minute shiatsu massage-- you will probably never feel more relaxed from sweating out the toxins you absorb (read: stress, alcohol and tension). 

come armed with your smart water bottles (shameless plug). bring your favorite pair of flip flops and hope you ascend those white concrete stairs on 10th street at a time it is a co-ed session (i am just saying is all). the aroma of the banyan leaves, of which you can choose (for an additional fee) to get literally whipped by as a form of massage, stings your nostrils in the purest of forms (channel the smell of mint leaves). it is both refreshing and relaxing all warped in the white tiled hall of the russian/turkish baths of the east village. 

your senses will thank you and you'll leave feeling ten pounds lighter. most likely from all the sweating you'll do. no doubt you could use a little escape to regain some clarity.

"a day in the banya, is a day without aging." - russian proverb

judge not the dated (read: amateur) web site, but if you are interested in a peak click here

be forewarned... you will want to come back for more.

sidebar: i just realized banya is a derivative of "bathe" in spanish. 

Confessions of a former Collar Popper

i think it is about time i start having a little more fun with this blog. for starters, i will begin by no longer using capitalization as a form of defiance to the grammatical gods and an extended middle finger to the english teachers whose principle satisfaction comes from the power wielded in a red magic marker. 

as a former collar popper and self proclaimed yuppy, i am happy to report it is much harder to shake the habit of keeping my beloved neck warm these cold winter months. plus, a blue peacoat just doesn't look as rad with the collar flat as it were meant to be. the popped collar adds a flare of bad ass to the get up and by "flare of bad ass" i mean air of douche bag (should this be a compound word?). 

i have recently become enamored with the idea that i can find solace and temporary eclipses of absolute euphoria by either a) a small impulse purchase b) a simple act of kindness c) acknowledgement of my own unregarded stupidity. 

scenario numero uno: water is no longer just water after drinking glaceau's smart water. call me a consumer. call me ridiculous. but the silky smoothness of the vapor distilled, electrolyte packed water is unlike any other refreshing source of known to me in my current state. 

part deux: you know the feeling you get when you buy someone a gift you know they have a) wanted or b) would absolutely love? it almost beats actually being the recipient of a gift (depending on the gift--hence the almost). i am totally the person who gets so anxious to give the gift that i can hardly contain myself and have to give the gift far ahead of its anticipated date of delivery. seriously-- finding joy in someone else's happiness -- the moments can be few and far between so i try to revel in them.

mona je tua: no doubt a threesome would be fun, but that's not where i am going with this. can we just talk about spontaneity for a moment? does anything beat the unhinged and blatant disregard for time only to escape in a clouded moment of desperation for what seems like a change of scenery or exhilarating breath of air. are you following me here? you know the in the movies there is always that heroin who seems to embrace every facet of life as if it were the first time she were seeing it through her own eyes? you know-- the girl the guy falls head over heels over because she opens his eyes to the world he has somehow seemed to have written off so casually....... well, i feed off that spontaneity. bring on some of that disregard and sense of adventure. uncensored. unhinged. unplanned and for the love of everything that is good -- completely uncontrolled.

almost four: so i make lists. i know what i don't want. struggle to figure out what i do want. have begun to thrive off my uncertainty with a smile. i laugh at myself because sometimes i am just all kinds of stupid. a friend said today in response to my comment about once being 21 and stupid... 'now you're 24 and less stupid' (the comment in this frame of context sounds malicious, but i assure you it was not). truth be told, he is right. i am not talking about intellectually stupid, but the other kind of stupid. the kind of stupid you look back a few years down the line and say 'wow -- i was stupid for thinking that way, for saying that, for being afraid of doing that, for not going there, for holding back' -- that is the kind of stupid i am becoming less of or working on becoming less of. 

so lets loosen up the skinny tie. unbutton the top button. it's time i have a little more fun with some of the adventures and lessons i come across in the busy streets of new york. just don't expect me to pop the collar of my lacoste polos any time soon. at least not while i am rocking my aviators. that would just make me... well, you already know. 

Round 2

Ding! Round 2. 

Gotta keep your hands up. Be light on your feet. Protect the head. Nothing below the belt. I said, nothing below the belt. Well Hell...this graveyard b-lls*!t is like getting hit below the belt considering my sleeping patters are all kinds of sucker punched. 

I am seeing stars people! The little birdies that use to circle above our beloved cartoon character's heads when they were about to go down for the count...are sh!tting on me. My days--are short because I am so K.O.-ed from the weekend shift that I can never seem to wake up before 1 p.m. 

To add to the brutality, the days have been absolutely amazing in Manhattan lately. It's roughly 40-45 degrees and sunny. A welcome change from the stark cold winter we've been experiencing, thus adding to my already sucker-punched demoralization because I am too exhausted to even try and be productive on a gorgeous afternoon.

I remember learning in psychology that you can't ever really catch up on sleep. I am living proof that my former statement is in fact a scientific fact. No matter how long I sleep or for how many days...it's never enough. I fend off the impending illness by drinking water and Pom 100% Juice, oh yea and a sh!t ton of coffee...when I retreat to my corner for a pick me up. 

In all honesty, it's my second week pulling the weekend graveyard shift and so far Friday night has not been the title championship round...I'm getting through it. No hard blows to the gut just yet, but then again it is still early. Gotta stay light on the feet. Keep the head up and keep moving, but don't close your eyes hoping for that bell to ring...I still have 6 hours to go.

Fight the Urge

It's 3 a.m. on Monday and I am sitting in one of the world's largest financial institution's offices alone. I sit in a quiet conference room surrounded by televisions streaming Bloomberg News, CNBC, Fox Business Channel. There are white erase boards with grids outlining media opportunities, strategies and laptops scattered about the giant pinewood desk the sits in the middle of the room.

The office building itself spans the length of a New York Avenue (roughly 10 city blocks). It is stark like the inside of a dated hotel lobby. The cubicles are made of a pinewood that looks as though it was recently polished with Pledge. It is quiet and I sit alone. 

I am exhausted. It is the third day of this graveyard shift and my eyelids have never felt heavier. Except for that one time I stayed up for roughly 32 hours for Children's Miracle Network in college. I think that had to be worse because I was on my feet the entire time, but this certainly doesn't feel any better. I'm fighting the urge to just lay on the floor and close my eyes contently. The problem being that I wouldn't be doing my job...that can't happen. 

I don't have a remedy for staying awake. I've tried splashing cold water on my face, but that is only temporary relief. I've found myself chugging cups of water just to keep me occupied. I've become OCD with checking the news sources (as my job description entails) for any mention of said financial firm...there hasn't been a relevant news story in almost an hour. 

I try not to look at the clock, but it's hard when you're counting down the hours, minutes and seconds until you can just collapse on your bed, under the soft down comforter and finally rest peacefully. I jacked myself up on caffeine before starting my "shift" at 11 p.m. I felt my eyelids jittering back and forth for a bit when I tried closing my eyes for a 15 minute power nap. Needless to say, I didn't get to nap. 

I've paced the room a couple of times as I peer out the glass windows that make up 1/2 of the room and overlook Lexington Avenue. The occasional taxi will whiz by. I watched a homeless man make his bed for the night just beyond the scaffolding of a not-yet-constructed building. He made the bed so delicately on the concrete floor that I envied him for a split second at the thought of him actually getting to close his eyes. 

I thought about doing cart wheels down the empty hallways, but I refrained out of fear the periodical floor sweeping by the rent-a-cops would catch me in the act. Plus, I'm a 24-year-old man, not a 7-year-old girl with a skip it. 

I also thought about doing hand stands, but my head already feels a little light from the lack of sleep, slight hunger and over caffeination. Caffeination is underlined in red right now because the dictionary on my computer doesn't recognize it as a word. Lack of sleep causes you to make up words and evidently ramble on about your current induced insomniadic (another made up word apparently) state of mind. 

I dread the fact that this is merely my first weekend of doing this shift. I have to do it next weekend, but the weekend after that (which seems like light years away) I get a break. Maybe I will learn some tricks of the trade and the second time around it won't be so God awful. My eyes feel really dry right now.

The only thing that will legitimately get me through this is the fact that I booked a plane ticket to Florida for the first weekend in March. I could not be more ecstatic at the thought of a beach, flip flops and escaping Manhattan. 

I would love to run down the hall right now...sprint even, but it is just out of the question. My pants are too corporate. Yes, I am wearing pinstripe dress pants that I just referred to as corporate. Just look at this stream of conscious. This is what my thoughts have been reduced to at this hour. Short. Curt. Sentences... and Paid Programming on the plasma television. 

I just caught my reflection in the window. All it says to me is "You look dreadfully tired" in a British accent. I can't even do a good British accent...

The Graveyard Shift

Nearly two weeks to the day that I was laid off, I forwarded my resume to MA, an old high school friend who then forwarded it to a colleague of hers, who in turn forwarded it to his old strategic communications agency. As luck would have it, not one hour before receiving my resume, the CFO of said strategic communications agency was asked to find freelance workers for a major project. He immediately wanted to meet with me, and I could not be more ecstatic about a paying opportunity.

I met with the CFO and a few of the associates running the project. I then took a writing test and was offered a freelance position at $45/hour. I was asked to make a 6 week commitment with the understanding that I would be working the graveyard shift.

Lets evaluate what exactly is meant by the graveyard shift. The time now is 3:40 A.M. on Friday (or Saturday) depending on how you look at it. I am sitting in a large conference room in one of the most highly recognized financial firms in the world. For confidentiality purposes, I am not allowed to disclose who it is I am working for, but simply know that it certainly a financial institution you have heard of (without question).

My shift began at 11 p.m. and does not end until 7 a.m. on Saturday. It is an 8 hour shift tonight, a 9 hour shift tomorrow and another 9 hour shift Sunday that ends at 8 a.m. on Monday morning. I accepted the job knowing these stipulations becuase quite frankly my current economic and financial situation does not afford me the luxury of getting picky with what jobs I can and cannot do. To be frank, the money is not bad and besides the fact that my social life will suffer slightly for the next couple of weeks-- it is work and I cannot complain.

So what do I do for these graveyard shifts? Well, the financial institution has asked for 24/7 media monitoring of any and all mentions of the company. I spend my shifts pulling all references of the firm in major media outlets including television broadcasts. It is not a particularly grueling job, it requires me to remain on task as it is imperative that all news be sent in real time, so there is little room to slack off....which sort of makes time fly (sort of).

The good news is, I can afford my rent for another couple of months. I can afford to stay in NYC. I have ample during the week and the days to search for full time positions, and once again-- I am employeed in a time when unemployment rates in NYC are at an all time high of 10.5 percent (versus the U.S. at 7.5 percent). The situation (to say the least) is freightening. There remains an immense amount of uncertainty, but if I've learned anything it is to roll with the punches.

As much as we'd like to think we have some say in what direction we take-- we rarely do. Three weeks after getting laid off, I am remain surprised at how well I have managed to 'bounce back' from what I thought would certainly ruin me (or at the very least knock me down).

I've spent my days sending out the periodic resume to the monster postings, I continue to reach out to friends and explore new avenues (including possibly interning again) in order to steer my career down a more desired path. That said, and I am weary of saying too much, but I have secured an interview with a major PR firm this coming Monday and once again-- I am ecstatic at the possibilities that lie ahead.

Needless to say, for a young professional, I have managed to somehow take a series of unfortunate events and work them to my favor. I have firmly believed that the cards will fall as they are meant to and my experience as of late could not be a larger testament to that theory. I seldom believe in luck. It is all about timing because luck is simply when preparation meets opportunity.

(F)unEmployed

When we were younger, our elders would ask us: "What do you want to be when you grow up?" and we'd hopefully, naively and whimsically reply-- "A movie director," "A Doctor," "An Artist," "A lawyer" or some variation of a career that in our young, un-jaded minds seems well within our reach...

One week into my unemployment (to which my friend NS has kindly welcomed me into the (F)unemployment club), I ask myself when did I lose my hopeful, youthful spirit and desire for something that seems well within my reach? I gave up on my dream when I began worrying about controlling my life and attempting to build stability. Fear and uncertainty beat out passion and possibility. My apprehension of falling flat on my face diverted my willingness to even try. I am 24 years old, and I only wish I gave it a try. I think now is my chance to try.

At dinner the other night with DB, she said something that has stuck with me this past weekend. She believes this juncture riddled with challenges and uncertainty will teach me to stop trying to control my life. It was a revelation (and refreshing) to hear. It caused me to stop and think about how methodical and logical I have been about everything in my life. It made me realize that all of my actions have been sequential steps, well thought out and planned to get to..... what? 

I have written before, that half of any adventure is the journey to which brings us to our destination. The past week has brought some clarity amidst all of the confusion. It is beginning to open my eyes more and more to the possibilities that were once so prevalently in front of me. I suppose I can stop trying to control every situation and see where I land. In theory, it is unraveling years of avoiding perhaps my greatest fear... failing. 

I'm not quite sure when we (err I) adopt(ed) this obstructed and constricting mentality. The obvious scapegoat would be to blame society for its perpetual reminder that success comes in material possessions, financial stability, luxury and ultimately the "American dream" of a nuclear family, car and home. I could blame my overachieving peers and their traditionally structured families who are simply following their lineage, adopting the family mantra and doing as their fathers did (maybe I wanted a piece of that...). I could blame my own family for burdening me with the pressure to always be their golden child. The pressure to be the first generation to be stabilized in America and not labor day in and day out for someone else my entire life. I could find a scapegoat, but the reality is... it has always been within my capacity. 

I have realized this past week that when you strip away everything that once seemed so concrete and predictable, and you're left with your hands in the air and the uncertainty of tomorrow, not only do you lose track of what day of the week it is, but you regain your ability to dream of possibility. To many of you this may sound romanticized and impractical, but I have really begun to re-evaluate the importance of living a life that I can really be proud of, a life that is fulfilling and a life that reflects everything I once envisioned for myself. There are many things I feel I should have done differently, but it is not regret. On the contrary, it is serving as inspiration for where I want to go, where I should have gone and where I may end up. 

In just one week, I have learned that my happiness never resided in the abundance and exaggerated "THINGS" my cushy job nourished me with. It doesn't stem from where I can afford to eat, what I can buy, how frequently I can travel or what my rent can be. I believe I will learn that my happiness resides in the nourishment and ultimate fulfillment of my inner most desires. It is about passion and my desire to never grow old and wonder what it "could" have been like, where I "may" have ended up or wishing it had been differently. 

I know that I will look back and be grateful for this experience. I say that and I really believe it. I've said it before, but I'm not sure I ever meant it. JH says these roadblocks are character builders and they have certainly begun to build me in a new way that is affecting me profoundly. 

Tomorrow remains unwritten for me and I have become surprisingly accepting of that uncertainty. I have not forgotten that all that once seemed definitive in my is no longer, but I have somehow grown content with a new found freedom. 

A Movie Script Ending

Act 1: Scene 1: The Prologue

It was a regular Thursday morning when I awoke to get ready for work. The night before had been a culmination of past company employees congregating with current company employees to commemorate the times shared whilst sitting contently in our  4x4 cubicles. There were shots to be had, laughs shared and of course the rumor mill was whirling with speculation that the company was planning not one, not two, but possibly three more lay offs by the end of the week. As the day progressed, I did what I could to make the best of my time at work. I reached out to analysts and clients, stayed productive and made sure my supervisors knew I was working even though things seemed to have slowed down. I sat confidently in my cubicle that if there were any lay offs, I would not be one of the unfortunate victims of this illustrious economy. 

Act 1: Scene 2: The Elimination

My office phone rings at 4:10 p.m. on Thursday January 15, 2009. I see that it is the CFO calling from his office. I pick up the receiver... "Hey Sonny." He replies..."Can I see you for a minute?" and I hang up, head down to the office weary of what seems to lie ahead. It's like being called down to the principal's office in school, or having your parents scream the entirety of your name from downstairs. You know that  something grave is about to happen and you walk down the corridor to your impending doom. 

I sit down in his office and my managing director Mike is sitting beside him. Both men seem filled with regret and sorrowful. Sonny asks me, "how are you?" to which I reply "A little worried," grinning nervously. He asks me "why?" and I matter-of-factly reply "because I'm sitting here in front of you." 

No amount of preparation could have soften the blow that I was about to receive at the tender age of 24. Just as my life seemed to finally gain some composure, the express trains come trekking down the tunnel and side swipes me. Sonny says "I am sorry to tell you, but with everything going with the economy 2009 is going to be a rough year and we have decided to..." WAIT FOR IT ... "eliminate your position." 

I was beside myself. I looked at him and Mike and could not even muster up enough anger, frustration, hate, pity or resentment to bring myself to cry in front of them. To perhaps show them how badly they were fucking me over. To let them know that I'm just a 24-year-old kid paying $1,400 in rent to live alone and now.....I'm jobless. But nothing came. I sat there as he explained to me some of the paperwork I could fill out. Beyond that it is all a blur. 

Act 1: Scene 3: A Shallow Goodbye

I stood in my cubicle as Mike supervised me. He instructed me to gather my personal belongings and the rest of my stuff would be shipped to me at later date. He felt so badly that he could not bring himself to look at me in the eyes when I went to shake his limp hand. I couldn't even get a firm handshake from the man after working beside him for nearly two years. I looked at him, managed a half sideways smile and the tears finally began to welt in my eyes. I made my way down the long corridor, passing a few managing directors on my way out and it was like every part of me just erupted me as I made my way out the glass doors that had once welcomed me to New York. I couldn't look back.

Act 2: Scene 1 : No Prep Time Required

There isn't much in the way of preparing to get laid off in one of the worst economies of our generation. Had you told me that I would be one of the five people Brainerd elected to "eliminate" from their already dwindling roster of peons, I would have never believed it. I honestly believed that I was one of the employees they were breeding for long-standing commitment to the company. All my supervisors praised me for my work ethic and level of interest. Everything seemed like it was working out perfectly, despite the fact that I wasn't in love with my job. I know now that the decision was not a result of any performance metric, but rather a tactical business strategy for the agency. However, it is hard to justify my departure when those who remain, I know from experience, cannot and will not provide the same quality of work. I truly believe this will become apparent to them and they'll realize quickly the mistake they have made "eliminating" my position. 

Act 2: Scene 2: Picking Up Pieces

When you're world seems to be crashing down before your very eyes. When you realize that everything that once felt so concrete has merely turned to rubble-- you have no choice but to pick up the fragments and rebuild your foundation. I immediately came home and reached out to my friends working at other PR firms letting them know the unfortunate news. Luckily, I had prepared my resume in December when I began looking for new opportunities, so I had something to send around. The only thing I knew for certain was that I could not waste any time wallowing in my own self pity. I could not sit back and let the reality of my situation sink in and bring me down. I needed to move forward and figure out what my next step was going to be. 

Act 2: Scene 3: Falling Up

I have always believe that the cards in your deck fall as they are meant to fall. That the river will line up in just the right way to give you the upper hand. I am looking at this hurdle as blessing in disguise. Perhaps it is an opportunity for me to pursue the dreams and career that once filled my heart. For so long, I have had the good fortune of having everything in New York be.... comfortable. I secured my job 2 months before graduating undergraduate, I had secured an apartment with Dara before ever having to look for a place, I had my salary increase substantially over the course of my 18 months, I had managed to live alone in one of the best neighborhoods in New York, I was eating at fantastic restaurants, shopping for anything and everything I desired, contributing to my 401(k), establishing a savings account, drinking whenever there was an opportunity to celebrate with friends....  in essence, I was being young and in love with Manhattan. 

Act 3: Scene 1: Moving Forward

I have taken the last three days since that fateful afternoon as a vacation of sorts. I have kept my mind busy and avoided the plague that is letting my situation scare me out of possibility. I sometimes like to think of my life as a movie. A movie with a complex, dynamic and flawed character that triumphantly overcomes adversity. It's a coming-of-age story set in Manhattan just when everything in the protagonist's life seems unbreakable. I'm excited, nervous, scared and to some degree still numb to the idea that I do not know where my life will end up. At the same time the uncertainty is serving as motivation toward the pursuit of a more fulfilling career path. 

I have become humbled by my current situation. Just like millions of other Americans, and to a greater degree America, I have been forced to reevaluate what is and is not important. Perhaps I have been living outside of my means, perhaps I got so greedy, selfish and wrapped up in the notion that I was entitled to so many things and everything I had was always going to be guaranteed that it was time for the alarm to go off and for me to wake up and come to my senses. 

I need to believe that something better lies ahead. I need to know that whatever is in store for me will be worth the sacrifice, intimidation and uncertainty that lies ahead for me. Sure there is no way of knowing this until I have come out on the other side of it all better off than I was before, but I need to believe in my heart that what I am about to embark on is going to be a journey I will only look back upon and be grateful for... no matter where I land. 

I am fortunate to have surrounded myself with friends both here in New York and as far as Sydney that support me, care about me and have been there for me. I am lucky to have a family that has assured me that everything will be OK, that I should not worry and that no matter what I am not alone. I have not felt alone. 

This is going to be a ride and a part of me is anxious to figure out where it is going to take me. I'll keep you posted, but in interim I am keeping my head up and powering through it. Ultimately, I am the one who decides how my movie ends and we've only just reached the climactic event of this particular scene. 

D. It was written

It is time to bid farewell to 2008. A year filled with so many remarkable milestones and certainly a year I will look back upon and smile. To briefly recount my achievements in no particular order. I was promoted to Account Executive at work. I moved into a one bedroom studio apartment in Manhattan. I entered a new salary bracket. I inched one year closer to 25. I enlarged my core circle of friends to include JH, MM, AB, MH, CA, and AM. I paid off my credit cards. I maintained significant headway in my personal life. I began steering my career in a more desirable direction. I've maintained those friendships most important to me. I have kept my family close despite the long distance. I have began building my home piece by piece. I have been consistently happy, albeit reflective throughout the year. I have remained optimistic in the face of "adversity." I have become smitten with few individuals, while only feeling the burn of one or two. I have proven that you can work hard and play just as hard. I have managed to save and build my 401(k). 

When I look back at 2008 it will always be a year of transition. It will be the year that I moved to Manhattan, really began to understand the affects city life has on me personally, psychologically and emotionally, and started to piece together the adult I am becoming. At this juncture in my life I am happy and never sad. I have come to accept the reality of many situations, embrace uncertainty and continue to accept change. I maintain a positive outlook on possibilities and opportunities, and I have come to appreciate the moments in my life that make you feel most alive. 

For 2009...I will not commit to resolve any detail of my daily life by making empty promises to myself. Rather, I will focus on enhancing the core values I have begun to nourish through my relationships with friends, family and acquaintances. I will work a little harder to further my career. I will open myself up to the possibilities of new relationships. I will work to maintain a healthy balance in all quadrants of my life. I would like to shake uncertainty, insecurity and indecisiveness. More than anything, my wish for 2009 is to continue to learn about the complexity that is me. There is still so much left to unravel and with every layer (so to speak), I find it gets more and more interesting to learn the make up of one's inner self. 

I'm throwing caution to the wind this year, and I could not be more excited to see what lies ahead. It was written. 

I Am The Decisive Element

The last couple of weeks have been a philosophical trial challenging my habitual desire to control everything. As I have begun to let the pieces fall where they may, I am learning that my happiness lies not in what is to come, but what is currently in front of me. I have alleviated myself of the burden of expectation and replaced it with a willingness to just be and go.

And now a quote that sums it up best:

"I have come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element. It is my personal approach that creates the climate. It is my daily mood that makes the weather. I possess tremendous power to make life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration, I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis is escalated or de-escalated, and a person is humanized or de-humanized. If we treat people as they are, we make them worse. If we treat people as they ought to be, we help them become what they are capable of becoming."

-Goethe

The Philosophy that is Dru

I was born in Colombia. I am stubborn. I can be pretentious with my music. I have expensive taste. I am an evolving foodie. I am stronger than I look. I am a very amateur photographer. I enjoy movies I can watch more than once. I write to keep me sane. I am a cook when the mood strikes me. I will travel several blocks for a tastey cup of coffee. I am not afraid of living alone. I am Jewish by association. I dance when the right song is playing.

I believe clothes make the man. I have been bitten by the travel bug. I have some OCD-like qualities people may find bizarre. I am sarcastic. I like to think about life. I wish I was a little bit taller, but I don't wish I was a baller. I am a pop culture junky. I sometimes wonder if I am doing all I can. I pick my friends carefully. I don't believe that my occupation defines me. I am a morning person. I like interpreting art. I think Dante's Inferno is fantastic. I sometimes double book myself.

I enjoy outdoor activities. I am ambitious. I love using my creativity. I am tougher than most. I have learned to embrace change. I enjoy a good bottle of Spanish red wine. I walk aimlessly when I am bored. I am comfortable in silence. I like meeting new people. I have never been to a movie alone. I wear my shoes with no socks. I think playing "Taboo" with close friends can be a raucous. I like the colors blue, charcoal and brown. I will retire in Cape Cod. I aspire to be in the Entertainment industry. I get heart burn from soda and pizza. I wear glasses only to read. I can eat anything made of chocolate. I rock a faux hawk. I always try to keep it classy.

I have been told that I am wise beyond my years. I love brunch on the weekends. I wish I could shower with my iPod. I can't vote. I can only read when I am motivated. I like cold weather. I plan to live abroad before I am 30. I can be a great friend. I have learned to pick my battles. I am my family's golden child. I prefer creamy peanut butter over crunchy. I have only completed one power hour in my life. I shower up to two times a day. I think spelling drunk, DRUnk is witty. I think tie clips are daper. I am not a fan of sloppy P.D.A. I can be rambunctious. I like magazines. I love living in the Lower East Side. I have never been to the top of a mountain. I am not afraid of confrontation, but I am not violent. I have a problem being micro-managed.

I was a child actor. I am teaching myself to save. I am observant. I enjoy speaking Spanish. I want a tattoo of the word S.E.R.A. I like movies told out of sequence. I enjoy camping. I unplug all my appliances before leaving my apartment. I believe you can succeed without being malicious. I have never met my biological mother. I jog to clear my head. I have never played in the snow. I became a football fan solely because of the Florida Gators. I drink water only because it is recommended. I have a lot of endurance. I am an early adopter techie. I am afraid my teeth will turn yellow from all the coffee I drink. I value people who can be forward with me. I have a fast metabolism. I pay attention to the details. I want to open a coffee shop someday. I've gotten stitches once. I think I stunted my growth by drinking coffee at an early age. I am a leader, not a follower.

I consider myself a liberal. I think anything with bacon tastes amazing. I would love to scuba dive off the Great Barrier Reef. I like drinking games traditionally reserved for college kids. I secretly hate facebook. I have not lost a close relative, thankfully. I believe spooning should be reserved for the cold winter months. I am a fan of seersucker, argyle and "Mr. Roger" sweaters. I dream of owning an Aston Martin. I believe the Blackberry and iPhone have corrupted social interaction. I own an iPhone. I like the taste of Red Bull.

I am ecclectic. I would get plastic surgery to pin my ears back a bit. I can never say no to a happy hour. I am a bit of a procrastinator. I like driving with the windows down. I do yoga on Tuesdays. I like that my birthday is in December. I think everything sounds better when you have an accent. I have a lot of self control. I have a dry sense of humor. I played tennis, soccer and roller hockey growing up. I am short tempered. I believe that love finds you. I don't like when people mispronounce my real name. I can be frugal.

I nap even when I wake up at noon. I have never been to the West coast. I am fearful of the "reply all" button on my work E-mail. I never presume anything. I rarely carry cash. I want to bunge jump off a bridge. I dreamt of becoming a movie director. I give a lot, but expect a lot in return. I can be over analytical. I avoid thinking about tomorrow to the best of my ability. I think London's Tube beats New York's Subway. I am not hypocritical, but I will call you out. I am oddly methodical when I brush my teeth. I do not have a strong position on Evolution.

I don't believe in putting all of my eggs in one basket. I have a fear of heights, but would love to sky dive. I believe in mind of matter. I was voted "best dressed" in high school. I want to open my own PR agency one day. I am not friendly with any of my ex-girlfriends. I could eat breakfast any time of day. I don't understand people with foot phobias. I've only been in love once. I often ponder the existential. I like going out on Thursday nights. I am a rollercoaster enthusiast.

I had a gym membership, but hardly went and when I don't have a gym membership, I crave the gym. I want to expand my vocabulary. I hate when I lose my chapstick in the winter. I believe ambience is very important. I don't believe that mixing beer and liquor makes you sicker. I have had my heart broken once. I don't believe in the after life. I like the sound of horse hooves on cobble stone streets. I never went to sleep away camp. I eat very slowly. I sometimes forget to filter my thoughts before I speak. I like watching reality shows. I like the numbers 2 and 6, but I couldn't give you a reason why. I could never date a smoker, and I hate the smell of cigarettes. I want a Pug. I find "first-kiss" tension thrilling. I can sometimes come on a little strong. I think I would be good at skiing despite never trying.

I have never had braces. I was the only child for 13 years. I could never live in middle America. I take pride in the work that I do. I like red velvet cupcakes with chocolate frosting. I am working to eliminate all negativity from my life. I don't believe in waking up on the wrong side of the bed. I believe religion is something you find for yourself and not inherited. I listen to my music loudly. I don't gamble. I prefer brunettes over blondes. I don't like people with a false sense of entitlement. I act spontaneously. I have only dated Jewish women, coincidentally.

I am sometimes cliche. I am not ambidextrous, but I can turn left. I try to avoid restaurants with more than 3 locations in Manhattan. I want to learn to play the guitar. I have never understood writing people completely out of your life after dating. I am not superstitious. I sometimes feel like I have A.D.H.D. I prefer bars over clubs. I look up to my grandfather. I want to learn to sail. I will not order the same thing as someone at the table. I have been known to dance on chairs when "Summer of '69" comes on. I worked at Banana Republic in high school.

I am an open book. I don't mind sharing. I am inspired by people with interesting perspectives and opinions. I don't do well with flakiness or hesitation. I believe in going after something you want, respectfully. I never want to regret. I don't really believe in medicine. I will always feel younger than my age. I believe you have to adjust for the curves in the road. I believe beauty fades without some substance behind it.

I have never been of the mindset to deny myself of an experience out of the fear of uncertainty. I will try anything once before deciding it is not for me. I am generally always happy, but I have my days.

The First Snow Fall

In my second winter in New York, I remain hopeful to the possibility of a blizzardous snowfall over Manhattan. I've been told it could happen, but I have yet to experience it for myself. Tonight the blankets of white snowy powder have begun to mask the otherwise defiled city streets. No matter how old you get, I believe the first snow fall of the season will always be something mystic. 

The city gets quiet. The air fills with white snow flakes and it is as though for almost a second everything around you is wholesome. All the cars look like miniaturized snow hills when lined up along the sidewalks. The side walks shimmer with the gleam of the melted snow flakes and the hardened icy spots. Even the sterile black bags of garbage that line the streets for tomorrow's pick up take adopt this delicate role as the snow piles atop and in between its every wrinkle. They almost look like cupcakes. The bench outside of Tiny's Giant Sandwich shop that goes unnoticed as you pass it every day to and from the train suddenly catches your eye. 

From way up high it's like New Year's confetti falling from the highest skyscraper. The cold, wet snow stings your cold skin. The snowflakes cling to your wool coat like little soap suds. With every step the snow flakes that fall-- dissolve on the ground beneath you. Peering down there remains not a trace of the snow that makes every object around you look pure, untouched and beautiful. 

I am still patiently waiting for my chance to build my Frosty. Throw my first snow ball. Make a snow angel and slide down Central Parks highest hill. I think what keeps the excitement of the first snow fall, and this merely speculation on my part, is its capacity to revert so many jaded (see: unimpressed) adults to a time when everything seemed easy. I think I can hold on to my excitement because after 24 years, I have yet to play (yes, play) in it. 

I remember the first time I saw it flurry. I was walking home from Sansbury in London. It never fell as much as I had wished (or nearly as much as it is falling now), but I can still picture it falling throwing the twiggy branches of the trees that lined Byng Place. I equated the very moment to the cover of an old record you'd find in a vintage record shop long forgotten. 

Even after a 12 hour work day (today). It's hard to walk out at 8:45 p.m. in Midtown and not be anything but happy. 

It's snowing...

To 24

Another year older.  Another year --- wiser? Maybe not wiser, but certainly more reflective. As if I haven't delved into my inner self enough these last couple of posts and turned my (mis)adventures and  journeys in New York and London into a LiveJournal.

The 24th Birthday certainly felt different. At least I had hoped it would be different. I was looking forward to celebrating in a truly classy fashion. To some extent I did, but naturally the pre-party killed it for me. On Dec. 10th, a co-worker won a free open bar from 6-7 p.m. which to me translated into drink as many jack and cokes as humanely possible within that hour because they are free. Oh and don't have dinner because that would just kill your buzz. Five hours later and still 23 years old, I find myself in a position that equate too well with all birthdays past--- hovering over the toilet bowl and tasting the jack and cokes for the second time. 

That set the tone for the rest of my birthday. I couldn't make it to work. I couldn't eat all day. I sat on my couch and watched movies all day. Luckily, the day was gloomy and rainy so I wasn't missing out on much, but the sheer fact that I felt bedridden killed it for me. Not to mention that I thought I'd be a bit more of an adult at 24 that I wouldn't drive myself to that point. In all fairness, I was still 23 and stupid when it happened-- so I can't really beat myself up too badly.

Conversely, I had made dinner reservations at Lavagna for 8 p.m. The place is known for its  homestyle Italian cuisine. It's a quaint little place lit by candles and garnished with the subtleties that make an establishment feel warm and intimate. We sat at the only round table in the restaurant. There were six of us. This year I had decided to keep the number way down from the 18 or so I had attend last year. I wanted to keep it close with good friends. 

In attendance were my oldest friend of the bunch MS, my old London bloke CM and gf MH, my confidant JH and newest rock climbing partner MM. A solid group of folk who made the conversation easy, appreciated the food and made 24 exactly what I wanted it to be complete with an assortment of Crumbs cupcakes for our eating pleasure thanks to MM. 

There's no question that tacking on another year to one's life is a cause for re-evaluating your current state. At least in my eyes it means taking a step back and visualizing where it was I thought I'd be at this age and how drastically different my life has really turned out to be. Looking around the table last night, I realized that I've had an incredible journey the last two years living in New York. Mainly because I was surrounded by friends both new and old. To me the greatest testament to any journey is looking at the people you've picked up along the way. I've kept true to my goal of only surround myself with positive people who fulfill my life. 

I have high hopes for 24. I think it'll be a successful year for me not unlike 23 was. For my sake, I hope it brings me more clarity and perspective into the direction I continue in. Perhaps the greatest thing of all though is that no matter how fast the years have gone by since 18 (really I can't even believe its been 6 years already) I still feel very young. 

I know there is so much left for me to learn. Here's to hoping that 24 continues to teach me about love, life and that relentless quest for happiness. Here's to 24.  

Belay On

Having high expectations for anything can result in bitter disappointment. Think Prom Night or New Year's Eve. It's all the anticipation, hype and quite frankly pressure to make it such a stellar night or event that it turns out being really -- well -- lame.

I've found that the best nights out in New York have truly been the ones that are unplanned, unhinged and done with the greatest degree of spontaneity. The tiny dive bar that screams health code violations and usual patrons that reek of every possible human excretion, fast becomes your cheapest night out in Manhattan and perhaps the most memorable simply because it was unexpected and you let your guard down for the possibility.

I'd say on par with that experience was this past weekend. I got back into an activity I enjoyed so much back in college -- indoor rock climbing -- and left the rest of my weekend up to its own devices. There was nothing to be gained, had or lost when there was nothing to check off a list or accomplish. Time, for the first time in Manhattan, seemed to slow down, progress slowly and at moments dragged on (but in the most enjoyable of ways).

For no other reasons but the fact that I had nothing set in stone, no To-Do list and I let go of any expectations, was this weekend one of my highest ranking weekends on my non-existent list of "BEST WEEKENDS EVER."

stay present and go with the flow...the rest will just come naturally. climb on.

The Dilemma

To laugh is to risk appearing a fool.

To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.

To reach out for another is to risk involvement.

To expose feelings is to risk rejection.

To place your dreams before the crowd is to risk ridicule.

To love is to risk not being loved in return.

To go forward in the face of overwhelming odds is to risk failure.

But risks must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.

The person who risks nothing does nothing, has nothing, is nothing.

He may avoid suffering and sorrow, but he cannot learn, feel, change, grow or love.

Chained by his certitudes, he is a slave.

He has forfeited his freedom.

Only a person who takes risks is free.

~ anonymous