Guilty Pleasure #34

Guilty pleasures, I have many. To name a few: television shows on the CW, Top 20 on 20 XM, Perez Hilton, iced caramel macchiatos, Sour Patch Kids ... and most recently, Missed Connections on Craigslist.

I, for many years, was a Craigslist rookie. I've never found an apartment on there, I've never (successfully) bought or sold a concert ticket from there and I've never looked for my future life partner in their Personals. I blame Jayme for introducing me to "Best of Craigslist," the section which highlights the most entertaining posts on the site, as nominated by readers. You could read this section for days and it will never get old - case in point: Seeking Adult Drunk Clown for 30th Birthday party.

My new addiction is Missed Connections. Here is the premise: you and I are riding the subway together. Perhaps we exchange some small talk; I get off at Union Square. Upon exiting, I think to myself, "I should have given him my number! I may have missed my chance." In hopes of finding said man from subway, I post a "Missed Connection" on Craigslist. Whether or not this has ever worked for anyone has yet to be seen.

Some of the posts bewilder me, like this one. Hello? Why don't you just go back, introduce yourself and ask her out. It shouldn't be that hard. Others make more sense, like this one. However, if he really did see her twice, he should have gone for it the second time. Some are truly entertaining - I love the last line in this one. Others are downright creepy (although this one is kinda funny ...)

Check it out for yourself - hey, maybe you're that girl who was in line at Whole Foods carrying the pink purse. You just never know.

5:30 a.m. on a Sunday

I woke up at 5:30 this morning to run. I admit, that is not a phrase I often utter. As a matter of fact, I don't like to get up at 5:30 a.m. for pretty much anything other than vacation ... when I get to sleep on a plane.

I ran in the 7th annual Firefighter Stephen Siller Tunnel to Towers Run/Walk, which begins in Red Hook and commences by Ground Zero.

Here's Stephen Siller's story: On September 11, 2001 Firefighter Stephen Siller had completed his tour and was heading home to his wife and 5 young children. When Stephen heard on his scanner what had happened, he turned his vehicle around and raced back to his firehouse in Brooklyn to get his gear. When, for security reasons he was prohibited from entering the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel, he got out of his vehicle, and, with his gear strapped to his back, he began his heroic run. He was last seen alive at the World Trade Center site where he and so many others gave their lives so that others might live.

To honor his memory and that of the other 342 firefighters who lost their lives on 9-11, his family started this annual run. Today, I ran the race with 16,000 people - it was astounding. The run begins in Red Hook and goes through the tunnel. Upon exiting the tunnel, firefighters hold up picture flags of all 343 fallen firefighters. It was one of the most poignant sights I have ever seen.

Waking up at 5:30 a.m. is never fun - but the run was worth every moment of it (even running most of it in the rain and being subjected to Neil Diamond's "America" more times than I can count). And for those who know me well, the scenery was quite enjoyable, too.

Do yourself a favor and participate next year. It's for a great cause and is an experience you won't ever forget.

Reading on the LIRR

In the mornings I sleep to pass the ride; on the commute home, I either make the most of my Netflix membership or I read. I have been alternately reading two books that are slowly becoming more overdue by the day (an expensive proposition, as far as the Long Beach Library is concerned) - Angela's Ashes and The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression, the latter of which is both physically and content heavy. I eventually stopped bringing that book to work, favoring the McCourt paperback.

The Noonday Demon is definitely an interesting book, but at times it seems to lack emotion. It is simply to easy to drown in the science and statistics - to forget that it was written by a person who suffered numerous psychological breakdowns due to crippling depression and anxiety. It is remiss of feeling.

I was flipping through New York magazine today (Wednesday's commutes are generally reserved for the crossword in the back) and I stumbled upon this beautiful piece by Elizabeth Wurtzel. While I have never read anything by David Foster Wallace, her writing painted such a real picture of his struggle with depression.

I loved this part - not only because of its sentiment, but the eloquent way in which she conveyed her memories of him and her subsequent reflections:

"Looking back, I am just so very sorry he was not less fragile and I was not less crazy. Looking back, I’m not sure which philosophy of life is more sound: the person who is full of regret, or the one who says je ne regrette rien. I am even less sure which mode of thinking finally leads one to say enough is enough, which approach is at long last more tiring.

By appearances, it would have seemed to me that David was doing great, living in Southern California, writing terrific books and pieces, recently married, teaching at a prestigious college. I am not stupid enough to believe that depression does not afflict a person whose life is good, but if he could get by in a hovel in the middle of the Midwest, surely these elements of happy life—love, sunshine, stability—had to be a plus. These things are real, genuine, the stuff depression blocks you from even getting close to."

I don't have a simple or neat way to conclude this; I don't exactly know why Wurtzel's piece struck a chord with me today, especially since I knew nothing of Wallace before this past week. There was just something about it. I hope you'll read it and see in it the beauty that I did.

"Life is a train of moods like a string of beads, and, as we pass through them, they prove to be many-colored lenses which paint the world their own hue, and each shows only what lies in its focus."- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Cutting the cord

"So I went from day to day
Though my life was in a rut
'Til I thought of what I'd say
Which connection I should cut"
- "Solsbury Hill"
Peter Gabriel

I knew all week that something had to be said, that things couldn't keep going in the direction they were headed. Confusion breeds more confusion ... eventually snowballing into complications that are difficult to back out of. I told myself that it was different - that there was more. But at the same time, I was only kidding myself. While there was indeed an undeniable connection and chemistry - all roads lead to the same place. It's a place I have been before and told myself not to go back.

It's hard to tell your mind what to do, and even harder to tell your heart what to do.

I have always had trouble removing people from my life, toxic or otherwise. It is almost harder to tell yourself to permanently let go, which infinitely keeps you from moving forward. As I convinced myself to let someone go, I had a random dream about an ex last night. While I know he is married and we have both more than definitely moved on, there was always a certain comfort in not fully letting go. I have been told that you can't move forward until you remove everyone from your past. Whether this means deleting all the numbers from your phone and taking the e-mails out of your address book or never letting a fleeting thought become more than that, I'm not sure.

Today is the day that I will let someone go because I know it's the right thing to do - for him, but more importantly for me.

Lessons Learned ... for September 12

While I intended to post this yesterday, the day got away from me. However, it actually may represent the sentiment more by not being posted on September 11.

One of my favorite books is Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs by Chuck Klosterman. One of his essays poses an interesting question about Americans’ take on patriotism, prior to September 11 occurring. He sent an e-mail to various acquaintances and offered them a choice: if given the choice to date two equally appealing people, with one described as “very patriotic,” who would you choose? Not surprisingly, the overwhelming majority of respondents viewed patriotism as a big negative. They associated it with a love for “Ted Nugent,” “Robin Williams’ movies” and a lack of intelligence. Only one person responded to the contrary – his point being that our generation is too focused on being cool, rather than being a generation that accomplishes anything worthwhile or important. In other words, patriotism isn’t viewed as “cool,” so people didn’t view it a positive attribute.

Patriotism certainly didn’t resonate with me at the time; to be honest, it just wasn’t something I thought much about. Rather it was something I took for granted. I, too, would have fallen into the first category. I can blame my years in the South for this stereotype, but the word “patriotism” automatically conjured images of fireworks shows soundtracked by Lee Greenwood and that “I’m proud to be an American” song. After 9-11, patriotism took on a whole new meaning for me.

We need to put aside our political and religious differences; we need to disregard our feelings about the war. We need to be grateful for the brave people who serve in our military, our police departments and our fire departments to protect us on a daily basis. Be as proud of your country, if not more so, than you are of your individual heritage. New Yorkers take so much staunch pride in being Irish, in being Italian, in being from New York – that we forget the big picture. Be proud that you are American and that despite all of our complaints and problems, we have it pretty good here. We have it pretty good, thanks to the people who make sacrifices for us.

While we can do our best to honor the people who chose to put their life on the line to save others on September 11, do not forget the people who signed on for nothing more than an ordinary day - businessmen, fathers, secretaries and janitors who expected nothing more than an average Tuesday. Think of the many people who left their homes without saying goodbye or “I love you” to their spouses and children. Life can be cut short in seconds; be sure to pursue what fulfills you and let people know they matter. Never leave angry; never leave without saying “I love you.”

After September 11, everyone was looking for a way to help. There weren’t enough places to keep the bottled water donations that were rolling in. Why did people stop helping? We are all guilty of falling back into normalcy. We forget how many people need our help on a daily basis. Donate money, or at the very least, give your time. Find something that matters to you and help make a difference in the world. Think of soldiers that are overseas and their families who are here in the States. Use your abundant resources to show them that they matter and you can make a small sacrifice for the one they are making for you.

September 11 is just one day out of the year. Make an effort to put aside your individual beliefs for the common good – it will make a difference. Show people why you’re proud to be an American (and not in the Lee Greenwood “I’m wearing an American flag windbreaker” way) and that we care about other people. Honor people who make sacrifices for your safety and freedom. Live your life in a way that fulfills you; you never know when it will be taken away. Show your grace by helping others who don’t have what you do. You never realize how good you have it until you see what others don’t have. Love and respect others; show your family and friends that they are important to you.

God bless America.

Long Beach Learns to Drive!

I've decided that it's time for me to run for Mayor of Long Beach. I will be a one-platform candidate, and if elected, I will fully fund a program called "Long Beach Learns to Drive." Unequivocally, Long Beach has the worst drivers of anywhere in the country - if you took a random sample of ten drivers ranging from poor to downright dangerous, nine of them are piloting autos on the streets of Long Beach.

I know what you're thinking - "Absolutely not! (Fill in the blank) has the worst drivers!" And yes, terrible drivers are not unique to Long Beach. Georgia drivers were infamous for leaving half-mile gaps between cars at exits. It's the only place I've ever seen a traffic back-up caused by eight cars. Charleston drivers (mostly tourists) seem to think their cars are akin to tour buses; they will slow down to a veritable crawl to see the sights. And God forbid you get behind a car behind a horse-drawn carriage - there's no such option as passing! Massachusetts - it's no secret why people refer to its drivers as "Massholes."

Red lights and stop signs cannot be taken for granted in Long Beach; their existence does not guarantee that cars will stop at intersections. We're not even talking pause and roll - drivers blatantly plow through them. The road I live on is one-way on each side, with parking spots lining the median on both sides. If you are essentially making a left hand U-turn (visualize it as going from west to east, or opposite), you are supposed to stop at double red lights. If you get lucky, people will stop at one, but rarely both - hence, the ubiquitous "Long Beach lefts." This becomes especially annoying when you see a parking spot on the opposite side of the street - while you know you are competing against the cars going in the opposite direction, the cars behind you shouldn't be able to nab your spot. Oh, but they do. While I wait (im)patiently at the red light, someone opts to take a Long Beach left and steals the parking spot I was eyeing.

Another great thing about my street is that there is a traffic light at every block. People decide that once they hit a red light, that is a green light to use their BlackBerry, make a phone call or fix their makeup. Then, of course, the light changes and there is a five second lag. It's just enough for that person to make the light, but long enough for you to miss that light and the subsequent fifteen lights.

I've never seen a traffic jam caused by people making a left hand turn until I drove to the train station in the morning. People invent lanes, with no rhyme or reason to make a left hand turn. Once they make the left, they are either going to (a) take a sharp right down a side street to park, (b) try to pull up in front of the train station, where there appears to be no open spaces for letting someone out, or (c) turn into the right lane, as they should, to go to the train station. This should be simple enough, but it is cause for a pile-up each and every morning. "I want to make a sharp right, so I'll invent a turning lane all the way to the left!"

"Long Beach Learns to Drive" would start with the basics - green lights mean "go" and not with a five second delay. Red lights and stop signs mean "stop" and they're not optional. Blinkers are on your car for a reason - use them. "No passing" on a one-lane road does not mean "passing is okay if there is a parking spot available" and use your blinker if you're looking for a parking spot. There is no need to arbitrarily slow down to five miles an hour with no obvious intention.

Long Beach - learn to drive!

Rotated tires give you a new lease on life

After numerous weeks of my dad begging me to get my tires rotated, I finally did it yesterday. Of course, I subsequently wasted half of a beautiful Sunday, without a car in Westbury.

How do you pass two hours without a car, when the only options within walking distance are the Costco your car is being held hostage at, a smallish-not-so-great mall and a Borders? I started off by returning phone calls and trying to catch up with friends who I haven't had time to talk to lately. However, the noise level in Costco quickly rendered that option as unlikely. I walked (slowly) over to The Source - but a mall is a terrible place to be when you're trying not to spend money. I started off with an inexpensive food court lunch at the Green Cactus, which passed about twenty minutes. After that, I ambled through Ann Taylor Loft, reasoning exactly why I didn't need any more cardigans for Fall. I knew better than to go in any other stores - it was time to leave the mall.

I headed back to Borders, assuming that I could find something worth reading (and not buying) to pass the next hour. I found myself sorting longingly through the required summer reading (which I certainly didn't appreciate when I was forced to read these books) and decided that I would re-read "The Awakening" by Kate Chopin. As I headed up the stairs, I passed a shelf of Oprah books and curiously picked up "The Secret."

I'm not going to say that I actually read it, but I did skim through it. Here the brief synapsis for those who are unfamiliar with it: the "Law of Attraction" principle posits that feelings and thoughts can attract events, from the workings of the cosmos to interactions among individuals in their physical, emotional, and professional affairs. While I don't disagree with this concept, (i.e. why you generate more romantic interest when you're in a relationship) parts of this book were just ridiculous. Evidently, by stressing over debt, I am breeding negative thoughts. But if I visualize wealth appearing, my mailbox will suddenly be chock-full of checks. Who is sending these checks? I can barely get my flex savings account to properly reimburse me these days.

Regardless, "reading" this book reminded me of something. Years ago, I was stuck in a rut; I was unhappy with my job and a short-lived but hopeful relationship had fallen through the cracks. One day I woke up and realized that I was tired of moping and that each day, I was going to think of three things that I was happy about. I told myself that no matter how trivial they seemed, I would find three things each day. Within weeks, my mood improved - I was focusing more on what made me happy and the optimistic parts of life, rather than the negative parts that made me feel down. I met someone new and started a new job.

While I don't believe that magical check fairies will be sending money my way, I'd like to see what happens next. Let the power of attraction begin.

Today's three:
1. It is absolutely beautiful outside today.
2. I bought a cute skirt that I am wearing today.
3. I'm not working late today and will be able to make dinner when I get home.

Give it a shot; see how it works for you.

When soul meets ... soul

“A soulmate is someone who has locks that fit our keys, and keys to fit our locks. When we feel safe enough to open the locks, our truest selves step out and we can be completely and honestly who we are; we can be loved for who we are and not for who we’re pretending to be. Each unveils the best part of the other. No matter what else goes wrong around us, with that one person we’re safe in our own paradise. Our soulmate is someone who shares our deepest longings, our sense of direction. When we’re two balloons, and together our direction is up, chances are we’ve found the right person. Our soulmate is the one who makes life come to life.” - Richard Bach

I was twenty-five when I met my soulmate - I didn’t realize at the time that this person was, indeed, what I would later come to view as such. We never dated, never kissed, and it’s hard to say if we even had a romantic connection. While I know that I loved him, I doubt I was in love with him. We spent countless hours together, nearly every day until I moved away and left him behind - my other half.

After spending time with him, my mom once commented that she had never met anyone so much like me ... but the funny part is, we were so different. We shared a common love of certain music, writing, and excessive introspect. Long e-mails, otherwise known as “missives” were our preferred method of communicating during those hours that we were apart. We overanalyzed everything about our friendship, our “relationship” and what it all meant - how a move in any direction could change it all, for better or for worse.

There are few people in the world that you can completely be yourself around - most of your closest friends don’t even fit the bill. He knew everything about me and learned things that I didn’t even tell him during the short time we spent together. I was always honest with him, because there were no repercussions to fear. Sometimes our honesty hurt each other. When we first met, we were both in love (more or less) with someone that we each ended a relationship with. That fragility led to a certain unspoken trust, as well as a confusion that took us months to iron out.

I always say that I strive to be the best version of myself. He saw the best in me, even when it wasn’t the part that the rest of the world saw. He always knew it was there, and reminded me when I easily forgot. We brought out the best in each other - and carried each other through the hardest of transitory times. As the quote said, while my world was crumbling around me, he made my world safe. He held me close in our paradise - a world that few outside understood.
I forget sometimes what it was like having him in my life. It often seems that although other friendships and relationships can have a “soulmate-like” feeling, I wonder if I will ever find again, what we shared. Everything changed quickly when I moved away. Our daily phone calls dwindled away; he got married and started a new life.

There are moments that remind me what having a soulmate was like - knowing that when I see a book and forget if I read it, he will know. When either of us hears “23” by Jimmy Eat World, or “Clark Gable” by The Postal Service, we’re both remembering the same thing. It’s sweet memories of watching television on the couch at the beach house, playing Scrabble on the front lawn, learning to throw a football, and most cliche, the laughter and the tears.

“Friendship marks a life even more deeply than love. Love risks degenerating into obsession, friendship is never anything but sharing.” - Elie Wiesel

The Hope in Impossible Dreaming

"The permanent temptation of life is to confuse dreams with reality. The permanent defeat of life comes when dreams are surrendered to reality." - James A. Michener

There are the impossible, unrealistic, far-reaching dreams. One such for me is to own a house overlooking the ocean, on a cliff in Laguna Beach. Nothing says that this is an impossible dream, but the likelihood of it happening is slim to none. It's so far on the "impossible" side of the continuum, that it barely crosses my mind as an eventual possibility. That, in itself, is what makes it a dream.

These types of impossible dreams are fun, as they give us something to strive for. Nonetheless, we do not find ourselves hurt, disappointed, or lacking when they are not a part of our reality.

Certain dreams are nearer to the middle of the spectrum – they are the possible ones, the ones which we can actually envision achieving. Hope further inspires us to make those dreams a reality.

Once a hopeless dream crosses the chasm to hope or even reality, it becomes harder to let go. When you thought you couldn't have it, it didn't register in reality. It was simply a dream. But when it's within possible reach, it becomes reality. You can see how fulfilled you could be and it becomes impossible to let it cross back over, thus inviting the potential for hurt, longing and loss.

Hopeless dreams give us something perfect and untouchable. Reality taints that perfection, especially when reality doesn't have space for the dream, and you have to tell yourself to let go, to put it back in the impossible dreams section. But can you do that once a dream enters the realm of reality?

"Though dreams can be deceiving, like faces are to hearts
They serve for sweet relieving, when fantasy and reality lie too far apart"
- "Slow Like Honey"
Fiona Apple

"Don't come around if you're lost
Until you consider what it will cost
You pull me then push me away
Chasing you's not any fun
Maybe I'm not what you want"
- "What You Want"
Ingram Hill

Wasting Away in Margaritaville

I have somewhat successfully half-assed my way through life.

That is not to say that I haven't put forth effort in any aspects of it; just that the parts of my life that I have truly expended effort in are the less tangible ones. Really, my friendships and my relationships.

My goal in life was to exist completely stress-free ... or as close to that as possible. Basically, I wanted to live life like a Jimmy Buffett song - somewhere sunny, warm, and completely relaxed.

My senior year of high school, we had two phrases to complete, which would accompany our yearbook photo for eternity. The first began with "Dreams of", the second, "Hopes to". While some people peppered their quote with mentions of marrying his/her high school sweetheart, others had clear and solid goals. Dreams of going to med school ... hopes to become a lawyer. I remember pondering long and hard about what it was that I truly "dreamed of" and "hoped to be".

Here is what I came up with:
"Dreams of using her $4.25 an hour Pacific Sunwear salary to follow the summer like Pat and Wingnut in 'Endless Summer II.' Hopes to get an oceanfront house, married, and two kids to name Summer and Dean."

There was no career objective in there, just a desire to live the life. Live married on the beach with two towheaded surfrat kids. It sounded about as stress-free as humanly possible.

In the twelve years that have passed since I wrote that, there is a major part of me that thinks that would be a pretty damn good life. It was all I thought I needed then, and probably could pass for all that I need now. I think at that point I vaguely thought I'd be writing novels in my beachfront home - I'm not so sure. All I know is that everything that seems so paramount now was not even on the tip of my thoughts. Career. Money. Relationships. And all of the stress that accompanies those major day-to-day realities.

I wish for a day when I didn't have to worry if my job can really be a lifelong career. I wish I didn't have to choose whether I should fill my car with gas, or buy groceries. I wish I didn't worry that maybe, just maybe, I may never end up married if I don't eventually make it work with the right person. And just the same ... I may never end up with those two surfrat kids (who have been renamed over the last 12 years) if all the other pieces don't fit. Thinking about all of these "what-ifs" makes my life more stressful than it should possibly be. Who would have thought that attaining the "perfect stress-free life" I envisioned could result in so much unease?

I try to stop to focus on the smaller things. Always looking at the big picture ten steps out makes absolutely nothing seem simple. Everything just feels impossible and out of focus. Then there are the moments when nothing has actually changed, but something so amazing is happening and everything else around me seems to melt away. When I come back down to reality, the bills are still waiting and the future is still questionable ... but for that moment, someone or something made everything seem purely blissful.

"Anyway, all I'm saying is that there was this time -- maybe it was a day, maybe two days, I can't remember now -- when everything seemed to have come together. And so obviously, it was time to go and screw it all up."- Slam by Nick Hornby

Resolutions from 2000 ...

I was looking through one of my old journals and found my "resolutions" for 2000, which were more or less short-term and far reaching goals. At twenty, I knew what I needed to do to make my life what it was "supposed to be". Looking back on my set of resolutions, I could definitely benefit from giving these another shot ... and also wondering what life could have been like, had I given these the effort that they deserved back then.

Here they are (were?):

I will finish this semester with high grades and graduate with over a 3.0 (Surprisingly, I did this one. Once I realized, post-freshman year, that attending class definitely helped my grades, my GPA took a turn for the better.)

I won't procrastinate on big school projects. (I doubt I accomplished this one. I could change that to "I won't procrastinate on big work projects" or "I won't procrastinate. I consider extreme procrastination one of my talents, actually.)

I will read more interesting things. (I guess I've done that. I probably should have defined the word "interesting." Something tells me that my intent here was to read more intellectual and worthy books, rather than what I generally read. I guess I can assume I did this, but it's certainly not a consistent success. Can US Weekly be considered "interesting"? Sure.)

I will learn to surf better. (Nope, never happened. I suck as much as I did back then. Maybe a year in Costa Rica would help that ... hey, you can't accomplish goals without the proper equipment.)

I will try new foods and learn to cook new things. (This was before I found out that I was allergic to 85% of foods. I did learn to cook a lot of things ... I just can't eat most of them. I would be remiss to say I'm an adventurous eater, though.)

I will be better with my money. (Yep, it was possible. I actually became considerably worse with my money. This one should actually go to the very top of the '08 resolutions. Definitely.)

I will pay all of my bills when I get them. (Pretty good with this one ... I guess after college I recognized that it wasn't really optional.)

I will keep sending out resumes and cover letters - when I graduate, I either want a good marketing job or to work in Charleston. (I actually pulled off both of these in 2001 - I had the sports marketing job of my dreams ... or so I thought ... in Charleston.)

I will eventually have a good marketing job, hopefully with a sport team or surfing company. (At that point, the dream life was to work for Quiksilver. Two years of mediocre wages and insane hours in baseball brought me back to reality on that one.)

I will write more creative writing. (Argh, this one gets me every time. It is honestly my only true "goal" in life ... yet I never focus enough to do it. Keep this one on the list.)

I will pay off a lot of my credit card debt and not get it high again. (So I didn't do this the first time around - I definitely made it much, much worse. But then I paid off most of it and I'm doing a decent job not doing it again. But again, there's always room for improvement. This one is at the top of the '08 resolutions.)

I will travel more and try different things. (The problem here is that this resolution was in direct conflict with the one above it. Oh, I traveled more. I'm great at traveling ... one of the best you'll ever meet. Unfortunately, I suck at doing it in cost-effective ways. Sadly, this one can't go on the '08 list. I'll keep the "try different things" one, but they'll have to be of the local and cheap variety.)

I will stick to my exercise program and get a flatter stomach. (Yes, I really listed this as a goal, and no, I totally didn't do it. The best exercise program I ever stuck with came in 2003 and 2004. I'll put this one back on the list, though.)

I will try to lose five pounds. (Clearly, I didn't accomplish this at that time. I did weigh like 123 when I waited tables, but that was only because I couldn't afford food and was living on Saltines, because they were the only free thing we could eat at the restaurant. I'll relist this one for '08 and put a "1" in front of that "five".)

I will swim, rollerblade, and surf more. (I just swam laps for the first time since college the other day. It's an actual realistic goal for '08. Rollerblading - did a bunch of that this summer. Surfing? I live across the street from the beach, but I'm too much of a baby to go in the cold NY ocean. I'll put that one back on the list when I move to Hawaii some day.)

I will get more definition in my arms and become stronger. (Seriously, it's no wonder I didn't accomplish these goals. I doubt I could have listed more specific things that would be easier to forget. I also must have been making this list while looking in a mirror. There is no way I could have realized all of the ways my body seemed to suck at the time otherwise.)

I will try to eat less junk food and fast food. (Almost totally gave up fast food. It really has no appeal anymore, and I think its only appeal back then was the convenience and price. Junk food ... eh ... I go through phases on that one. I think this could go on the '08 list.)

I won't go over *** pounds and will continue to eat better. (I'm totally not filling in the blank there. I'm only like five pounds over that, but clearly, if that number horrified me enough to create a resolution around it, I never anticipated this weight.)

I'll try to get past *** and not talk to him anymore. (Again, not filling in the blank, but it was an ex at the time, and clearly, this was the best resolution I could have made. We did stop talking and I think it made every day a little better at the time.)

I'll only give myself to people who want me and have time for me. (This one sounds really depressing. Geez. I think this is one for everyone, though ... there are definitely people out there who deserve you more than others.)

I won't waste my time on people who don't treat me how I deserve to be treated. (This is actually my 1 goal for 2008. It's up there with the money/credit cards thing, but for other reasons.I kind of wish I had figured out how to do this one back in 2000. Better late than never, I guess.)

I will remember what kind of person I like to be, not what kind of person I think people like me to be. (Again, this one is pretty solid. I feel bad that I made this a resolution and couldn't just accept it without trying.)

I won't leave my happiness in the hands of others - it's my responsibility. (If I had a dollar every time I tried to tell myself this, I wouldn't have to worry about how I spent my money. Put it on the '08 list.)

2008 is right around the corner ... and I'm ready for a new year. I'm not sure why the changing of one digit always makes it feel like a fresh start. My expectations for this year are high, but not unreasonable. I'm focusing on the big picture - being healthy, being happy and being the best version of myself that I can be. In doing so, I'm sure I can accomplish (most of) the minutiae I listed back in 2000.

Happy New Year to all ... cheers. I hope your 2008 is the best it can possibly be.

Finding My Happy

It's snowing outside. Actually, it's not even snowing. It's some type of glorious freezing rain sleet combination that leaves the streets slippery, the air cold, and the sky a dismal shade of gray.

Needless to say, it's a stark comparison to what I left behind in Los Angeles - wearing flip flops, blue skies, sunny days and a dual feeling of calm and happy that I hadn't felt in ages.

When I moved back to New York from Charleston, I thought I would visit monthly; after all, my entire world was there. I quickly realized that as the saying goes, you can't go home. Subtle things had changed, major things had changed. And every time I visited, I felt homesick, like a piece of me still felt that I made the wrong decision.

New York feels like it will never fit, which is funny, considering I have spent more of my life here than anywhere else. I constantly feel stressed and on edge here, which I didn't feel in California.

Of course, one could argue that I was on vacation - I get that. But just the same, I felt a semblance of peace within myself that I haven't felt in ages. I felt like myself - the version of myself that isn't always bitter and stressed. The version of me that can stop to breathe, the one that wants to be out and about experiencing life ... not just watching it pass by.

I miss the sunshine and the warm(er) weather - that goes without saying. But I miss the feeling that I had there - the feeling that I had found my perfect fit and found my "happy."

"Do you believe you're missing out?
That everything good is happening somewhere else"
- "Jesus Christ"
Brand New

The Implications of Positive Memory

The Pollyanna Principle - people remember positive things more readily than negative things

I first learned this in a psych class in college and it has remained in my consciousness ever since, due to its ever-prevalence in my life.

Going hand in hand with forgive and forget, the Pollyanna Principle is what allows you to selectively remember the good parts of things, and simply overlook the bad in memories. You can remember laying on the couch with him and what movie you watched, or every detail about the night when he first told you that he loved you. Five years later you will still remember what you both wore to that baseball game, but you have to stretch your memory to recall the "bad stuff."

Your brain doesn't want you thinking about how much you cried when you found out that he cheated on you, or how much it hurt when you saw him out with another girl immediately after you broke up. It's too hard for your brain to process those thoughts years later, so everything is seen through rose-colored glasses.

I worked an event yesterday at a college basketball game, and immediately felt a twinge, missing working in sports. I remembered the energy of a game-day, and having that excitement every day at work. I love my job - it is hands down the best job that I have ever had, and I do know that. But there is always a part of me that is going to remember my days in baseball through rose-colored glasses - the excitement of working opening day, and the constant energy and movement. That part of me has to struggle to remember exactly how it felt never having a day off, never having enough money to make ends meet, and always thinking that stopping to breathe would be the start of the end.

The Pollyanna Principle protects us - it allows us to more easily remember what was good about a person or a particular situation. Just the same, there is a benefit to tempering your most romanticized thoughts with a dose of reality to remember why things turned out the way they did.

24 Hours

I was home sick yesterday. The majority of my day was spent either in bed or on the couch; I watched a movie and two television shows. I can't remember the last time I watched over three hours of concurrent television.

I awoke this morning to grey skies, damp cold, and wind outside my apartment that sounded like the world was ending. Part of me was determined to stay in bed, to shut out the world. After all, what is there to do on a day like today, other than to repeat the uselessness of the day before?

I got out of bed. I ate breakfast and took a shower. I was momentarily sidetracked by an absolutely horrid episode of "Beverly Hills 90210" (the early years) on Soapnet, but after fifteen minutes of humor, got my day back on track.

After months of excuses, I finally got a library card and took out four books. I took one of the books next door to Starbucks and read the first fifty pages with a venti white mocha in hand, stopping only for the occasional people watching experience. I ran errands. I went to five o'clock mass - the first time I've attended church since Easter.

I've felt very ungrounded lately, which is strange, since I've been making mostly decent decisions. Usually I recognize feeling ungrounded when I make a really off-kilter decision; but, as I said, lately I've been making mostly "ok" decisions for myself.

I took a book out of the library today that I have picked up numerous times in the bookstore, but have never bought - Saturday, by Ian McEwan. I've never read anything written by him, but always felt compelled to do so.

Saturday is a heavy read, mostly because McEwan does not write in a very plot driven fashion - he expends pages on descriptions in colorful language, which I often find myself skimming through in other books I read. It's not a book which I had difficulty putting down, but I also would be remiss to say that it's not worth reading. I get the feeling that when I finally finish it. I will view it more as an experience, than as a book that was necessarily "fun."

There were two sections that resonated with me. One reads as follows:
"On a recent Sunday evening Theo came up with an aphorism: the bigger you think, the crappier it looks. Asked to explain he said, 'When we go on about the big things, the political situation, global warming, world poverty, it all looks terrible, with nothing getting better, nothing to look forward to. But when I think small, closer in - you know, a girl I've just met, or this song we're going to do with Chas, or snowboarding next month, then it looks great. So this is going to be my motto - think small."

Another part of the book that I loved was not a section, but rather a quote - "Happiness seemed like a betrayal of principle, but happiness was unavoidable."

At times, happiness feels shallow; it lacks the depth that sadness inevitably does. Your thoughts, when happy, seem shorter and less significant. However, when you're unhappy, you tend to think more, think deeper. When you are happy, you tend to "think small," yet when you're unhappy, you see a bigger picture. More things to fear, more things to worry about, more things to generally feel unhappy about.

While I appreciate the value of deep thought, of evaluating my emotions, sometimes there is a benefit in "thinking small," and not viewing it as a betrayal of principle.

I need to find the balance between being happy and feeling grounded, to find the place where happiness and feeling strong coincide. I need to be a better version of myself, and to feel comfortable in doing so. It's easy to fall into a trap of over self-examination, to not want to get out of bed on a gray, cold, rainy day ... but there is so much of the world outside that is worth experiencing, for better or for worse.

Is it enough to be happy?

In one of the six million books I have read, I remember reading a section about why you should never say that "being happy" is your goal. This resonated with me, as it is probably the number one response I would give to that question, or any other like it.

The next question is, why? Why can you not say that your goal is to be happy?

Happiness is too fluid. It's not tied to something larger. It can come and go, and the smallest of events can affect it. Happiness can be as minor as being in a good mood, or being involved with something that makes you smile. Another person can make you happy. Another person can make you unhappy.

We want a job that makes us happy. We want a lifestyle that makes us "happy." We all want life to be fun, as stress-free as possible, and ultimately, happy.

I worked from home today, which is quite possibly my favorite type of schedule. I was able to sleep in, and still started my work day earlier than I normally do. I went for a two and a half mile run on the beach this morning, and captured the essence of an absolutely heavenly day, weatherwise. It's Friday, and that needs no explanation for adding to my happiness. I have some fun weekend plans with friends, and I get to spend Monday working at a golf tournament. I drove with the windows down and the roof open today. Life feels good; life is "happy."

But I'm not fulfilled.

That's where difference lies. You can be extremely happy, but know that ultimately, something major is missing and your life is lacking fulfillment at that time. Fulfillment comes in many forms. While I can say that my job is theoretically "fulfilling," it doesn't always go hand in hand with my being happy.

Fulfillment often indicates a purpose; you feel purposeful in your actions and therefore, generally feel happy. Fulfillment is more solid than happiness, less likely to sway with the events of the day.

I can't knock being happy. There are many days that I can't come up with legitimate reasons to be happy. I can think of reasons to be grateful, but gratefulness doesn't have to translate to happiness. And sadly, happiness isn't as good when it's not tempered with fulfillment.

There's something to be said for wanting it all. I suppose that's why we have goals, and a better goal is to be fulfilled, than just happy.

The Onset of Fall

I discovered this morning that the world actually happens before 9 a.m. on the weekend. I cannot remember the last time I was actually up, moving, and out of the house before 9 in the morning on a Sunday. My first realization when I walked out of my apartment was wow, it's cold. Fall is almost officially here, and I'm definitely not ready for it.

I'm not going to lie - looking out the window, it's a perfectly beautiful day. I should go for a run, or at the very least, throw on a sweatshirt and sit on the beach. I have my windows open, but still, watching the blue sky and feeling the air from indoors shouldn't be enough.

I miss fall in Charleston. Fall in Charleston is mostly days like today. I am defiant against appreciating Fall in New York, because winter has a tendency to sneak up out of nowhere. Once that happens, it's nothing but wearing too many layers of clothes and counting the weeks until I can take vacations elsewhere.

I spend at least eight months of the year waiting for summer here.

It's been an odd couple of weeks in my world...life has been turning upside down on an almost daily basis. Some days, the upside down is a good thing. It's an unexpected surprise, something that makes me happy. Those are the days that I go into work the next morning with a smile on my face, and nothing can bother me. Then there are the days that my world turns over again, and everything feels a little more empty.

Is it worth it to have that transient kind of sudden happiness? The fleeting kind that can and will disappear as soon as you blink? Or not...

This week, I'm voting "not."

"Do you lie awake and wonder why?
Is it always the same thing or is this just a new dream that's keeping you up at night"
- "First Week"
Graham Colton Band

Three more for the list

While I will not reiterate my "people should have to take a class to use an umbrella in the City" rant, I will add another casualty to the list. I was walking under a scaffold this morning behind this roughly five foot tall garden gnome of a man. The elf in question was carrying an umbrella suitable only for shielding Diddy, or for professional golf. Clearly, neither reason fit his "needs" and he was walking aimlessly with it. He did not realize that the umbrella was, indeed, wider than the passage he was walking through. He managed to stop short, get stuck, and cause me to be impaled by the person behind me. Awesome.

Enough of the umbrella jackasses...we move on. Babytalk in public places. I was two seats away from a girl who spoke babytalk to her boyfriend, almost the whole way home...yes, almost an hour. "Yes, this is your IPod. Do you want your IPod, sweetie?" It was in this grating, nauseating babytalk voice that made me want to assail her with someone's umbrella.

Last but not least, people who live in apartments should not cook food that will cause entire floors to smell. Especially when the smell can not be identified as a food, or even a cuisine, but rather as a "what the hell is that awful smell?!"

I think it's time to call it a day...

An exercise in futility...

So I could be doing my dishes. I could be unpacking. I could be straightening up my apartment, or getting the mountain of sand off my floor. After all, there is nothing quite like getting out of the shower and then tracking sand off your living room floor to work on the bottoms of your feet.

But guess what? I'm not.

I'm notorious among my friends for liking guys that I shouldn't. Simply put, I am a magnet for all of the people I shouldn't be. I love to torture myself by falling for guys that are totally not right for me.

Now I've done something even worse. I've fallen for someone who is already spoken for by someone else. Coincidentally, I don't know this someone else, but I know that I shouldn't like him, simply because of her existence. Not for any other reason than the fact that he belongs to someone else. I've never been someone who believes in cheating, and I wouldn't want it to go in that direction...but just the same, I wish I could wake up tomorrow and the world would be a different place.

Jayme said it best the other night - "I'm going to give you advice that I know you won't take." I like to learn things the hard way. For some reason, falling on my face is the only way to make lessons resonate in my head.

It's been said before - we don't choose who we fall for. It is so hard to find someone that you truly click with, who always makes you smile...and it's even harder when that someone belongs to someone else.

Things I love about this week

- Heat waves...90+ degree days like today
- Falling asleep in the sun on the beach
- Drinking Coronas outside
- Rollerblading every day when I get home from work
- Grilling out
- Having internet at home again (and now, DVR on my TV)
- Happy Hour almost every day this week...
- My new apartment is almost completely unpacked/set-up and it's sweeeeet

I'm completely enchanted by the simple things this week....I so love the summertime :)

Good ol' iGoogle

"Sometimes reality has a way of sneaking up and biting us in the ass. And when the dam bursts, all you can do is swim. The world of pretend is a cage, not a cocoon. We can only lie to ourselves for so long. We are tired, we are scared, denying it doesn't change the truth. Sooner or later we have to put aside our denial and face the world. Head on, guns blazing. De Nile. It's not just a river in Egypt, it's a freakin' ocean. So how do you keep from drowning in it?"

I have a personalized Google homepage, and one of the features on it is a rotating movie/television quote. This would be more interesting, if it didn't constantly rotate the same five movies/shows. It's a small miracle if I now did not know every line from "Napoleon Dynamite", "Rocky", and most recently, "Grey's Anatomy."

The quote above just showed up on my screen - it's from "Grey's Anatomy." I've never really watched the show, but I loved that quote. Everyone knows the power of denial - allowing yourself to believe that something is totally different than you know it is, in reality. And, as the quote says, reality always manages to explode when you are least ready for it. You protect yourself from facing something that you know will eventually hurt so bad...but does the time you waste denying it actually make it hurt any less? Or does it really hurt more?