Then Come On God Please Give Me 30 More

In a previous post, I mentioned that I occasionally experience moments where the reality of what I'm doing hits me. This was common when I lived in London but these moments are much fewer and farther between in New York City.

This past weekend I experienced a moment of reality hitting me in a different sort.

My friend invited me to attend a going away party for a co-worker with her this past Friday. Around 10 pm, we left my apartment to catch the L train to Williamsburg. None of us had spent much time in Williamsburg before, and I had never been to this particular part of it before. We exited at the train stop and found ourselves in a very empty and somewhat sketchy neighborhood.

After passing what looked like a lot of empty buildings, we began to wonder if we had mistaken the address. Soon we came upon the street the party was supposed to be taking place on and turned down it. There were a few groups of people heading in the same direction, so we followed the street until we came upon a nondescript looking building at the end of it.

Some of the others headed in, so we knew we had to be in the right place. We walked in and found ourselves in the middle of a large, white, concrete warehouse. A DJ had set up at the front of the room and was projecting onto a large screen behind him. A small bar had been set up in the back right corner of the room and we were surrounded by hipsters wearing all the latest Urban Outfitters styles.

After spending a few hours at the party, we decide to leave and as we are walking back to the train stop, my roommate declares that we are close enough to Barcade - a place known for the arcade games lining the bar. I had never been there before but heard from others that it was a pretty cool place. We go and get enough quarters to play for awhile.






When we ran out of quarters and decided we didn't want to drink anymore, we left the bar and headed for the train. The night had been fun and seemed to have flown by. As I get into bed when I get home I notice it's a quarter to five.

A quarter to five?! That's when it hit me.

I am about to turn 30 years old and I just got home from a night out in one of the "trendy" areas of NYC. On a normal day, I would be getting up at 5 to start my day, and here I was heading to bed with the luxury of being able to sleep until 2 pm if I wanted.

I don't know many 30 year olds who can say that. Most of my friends are married with children and live a completely different life that does not allow them to be able to do such things.

So this time, my moment of shock came, not at the fact that I'm living in NYC in particular, but that I'm still able to live my life this way.

Doing More of What I Love

I've loved to write my entire life.

Growing up, I would fill notebook after notebook with stories and poems. I loved writing papers in school and would often be excited about the daily journal topics Mrs. Bailey would assign us in elementary school.

I've never had a problem expressing myself through writing. Words are my thing. I was not blessed with a beautiful voice, a scientific brain, or spectacular athletic abilities, but give me a topic and a blank sheet of paper and I can make beautiful music, so to speak.

My passion for writing was one reason I took my current job. I am responsible for writing and editing web content. Perfect, right?

Well, that part of it is anyway. Every time I get the opportunity to work on writing something for the Web, I throw myself into it. I love the thrill of seeing something I've written published for others to enjoy.

I like being given the challenge of making words fit in the limited space provided and making complicated topics understandable to the masses. This process is creative and stimulating to me.

I also love working with the Web. I love making changes and seeing them reflected immediately. It's fascinating to track our site statistics. I get oddly excited each month as I see our page views grow and I love seeing how people find our site and what they use it for. I like that I am responsible for trying to make the site the best it can be for our audience. In a way, I have readers from all over the world.

These are the parts of my job that I love and the reasons I took the position I currently hold. But the sad part is, is that this portion of my job description seems to have shrunk with time. Lately my time has been divided among various uninspiring office tasks. I spend most of my days looking at Excel sheets and answering the phones now.

I find myself feeling less and less motivation each day and I'm starting to miss that creative outlet.

So when I recently stumbled upon a job posting for a writer in a position I would absolutely love I didn't think twice about submitting my resume.

As I mentioned in a previous post 2010 is going to be full of more of what I love. And more of what I love needs to apply to my professional life as well as my personal life.

City Life is so Transient

I first experienced this while living and working in London. Each week brought a new going away party. There was the Australian who was moving back home to return to school and the American who was moving back to be with her husband. It was the Brit who got a new job and the Canadian who was going to try her luck living in another Commonwealth country.

It was an endless stream of goodbyes. And, living on a visa in a foreign country makes you acutely aware that someday the goodbye party will be for you.

I moved back home and soon forgot the parade of goodbyes and the novelty of meeting new coworkers every few weeks. That is, until New York.

I recently said goodbye to my first friend at NYP.

We met at orientation almost a year ago. I can clearly remember the adventure we had in finding the ID office that first day. Even though we worked in different departments, we stayed in touch throughout the course of the year. We tried to meet for lunch on a fairly regular basis and would randomly run into each other in the hallways at work. It was nice to have a friend my age who was interested in exploring the neighborhood with me.

She was from the Philippines, and like most non-native New Yorkers, had no intentions of settling in the city. I knew she was planning to return home and help run the family business, but I didn't realize it would be so soon. I met her for lunch on a Friday and she told me she was moving on Sunday.

Deja vu. It was London all over again.

Work is a little more lonely these days but I've been here before. I know that it's only a matter of time before I meet someone else to have lunch with and I've now got a standing invitation to visit Manila.

No one ever stays put in a city this large...including me. I wasn't expecting to surround myself with a permanent circle of friends here, but I have to admit, all this is still a bit surreal to a girl who spent her entire life in a town that no one ever leaves and hardly ever moves to.

Little Moments

Today all it took was a simple good morning.

I've had a blah week. As I stepped out the door this morning I plugged in my headphones. I walked to the bus stop lost in my thoughts. As is the rule, no one made eye contact on the bus and I was content to zone out.

I got off the bus at 72nd this morning and stopped by the bank and the post office to complete errands all without human interaction and continued on my walk still drowning in the weight of my thoughts.

As I approached the corner of 71st and York I caught the eye of a little old man standing on the corner. He was a newspaper vendor and had no doubt been standing there in front of his crates of newspapers since before sunrise.

He smiled and me and simply said, "Good morning!"

I was caught off guard.

I had no intentions of approaching him to buy a newspaper and therefore hadn't anticipated his greeting. The light changed and, as I stepped into the crosswalk, I smiled back.

The smile still hasn't left my face. And so, even though he doesn't know it, my day is already a bit brighter than it started off.


"Love and kindness are never wasted. They always make a difference. They bless the one who receives them, and they bless you, the giver."
-Barbara De Angelis

A New Year and A New Beginning

I rang in 2009 standing in the middle of Times Square. This year I spent my New Year's Eve celebrating with friends on the Lower East Side. As we watched the ball drop from a nice warm living room I recalled our experience freezing for hours along with millions of people and was struck by how long ago that seemed and how little I could joyfully recall in between.

2009 was a pretty blah year for me. It could have been much worse - I was lucky enough to be able to land in NYC with friends and find a job - but it could also have been much better - a summer full of rain and little adventuring, too much time spent catching up financially, saying goodbye to too many people, etc.

I don't believe in New Year's resolutions, but this is the year I'm letting go of a lot of things. I'm expecting a lot out of 2010 and, for that to happen, a lot of small changes must first take place.

So while I'm not setting "resolutions" I am making some declarations:

I am going to fully experience 2010 by
* taking on more adventure and risks
* learning as much as I am allowed
* laughing more and crying less
* being more grateful for what I have and less focused on things I think I don't have
* filling my life with more love and wasting less time worrying about the people who don't love me for who I am

“The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide that you are not going to stay where you are.”

Goodbye 2009. I'm stepping forward.

Beautiful Catasrophe

A hundred times have I thought New York is a catastrophe, and fifty times: It is a beautiful catastrophe. Le Corbusier

I know I've written about my love-hate relationship with New York City many times in this blog. Today I'm in the beautiful catastrophe frame of mind. There are some aspects of the city that are so unique and unexpected that remind you of the amazing-ness of all that goes on in a city so large.

But every once in awhile I see, hear, smell, or do something that reminds me of the uniqueness of a life lived in NYC.

The other night it was the bicycles whizzing past me as I crossed 23rd Avenue. This morning it was realizing I am going to see a movie that hasn't opened in the rest of the country and probably will never open in my hometown. Last week it was watching the scene in Elf where they showed the reporter on NY1 - yes, it's a real channel.

Yes, this city is loud, dirty, expensive and obnoxious most of the time, but every so often a moment comes along that reminds me I am living what for most people only ever remains a dream and that I should be thankful for this opportunity.

New Yorkers are often characterized as being neurotic. After living in this city for the past year, I can see why and am worried that I am becoming the same.

I never feel enough of anything in New York City - pretty enough, smart enough, rich enough, etc. I am continually battling feelings of inadequacy and it's starting to make me crazy.

I'm forgetting myself.

Gone is the girl who used to be so social. I feel completely unmotivated to pursue any of the things I used to love. I've become lazy and feel restless.

Sometimes I feel I have become someone I don't recognize and I miss the me I used to be.


New York has a trip-hammer vitality which drives you insane with restlessness if you have no inner stabilizer.

Henry Miller