Breaking Point
Have you noticed that we've reached the height of information and acceptance in the truth regarding socio-economic disparity? We've reached the height of frustration with the knowledge that the poor are getting poorer, the middle class is disappearing and the rich is getting richer? Throughout history this always seems to be the moment where a revolution leads to change. It's the natural progression when the pressure builds and moments later, there is a burst of anger, of momentum followed by change. It happened with the French Revolution, the American, the Civil Rights movement, the period of unrest in the 1960's thanks to the Vietnam War. And it's about to happen now. So take a moment and witness what is happening.The foundation of America is on shaky ground. The balance will need to be restored. And who knows how this will happen. What will change and what will remain the same? Will New York City become a playground for the rich or will De Blasio divert the flow of money so that we can all enjoy its bounty? Will universal healthcare finally pull people out of poverty? Will the yearly cost of college continue to soar or will a generation finally put an end to a nonsensical system meant to keep the unwanted out of their ivy gates? Will there be a pivotal event that signals or forces change or will the change be more gradual? Will it get worse before it gets better?
David Simon, creator of the Wire shares his take on the stunning divide that our capitalist society has led to - a system, he argues, that is not the answer to universal happiness. As much as capitalism creates wealth and prosperity, the market does not nudge people into caring for the needy, making financial sacrifices to protect the environment or generally compel them to do the right thing.
Andrea Elliott of the New York Times spends a year profiling the life of a girl who is an innocent victim of a system that has failed her through Invisible Child. Entirely blameless, Dasani is trapped in a system that does not do what it is supposed to do. In fact, her family is literally treated like animals, being housed in a poorly kept shelter without even the freedom to heat up their own food. This is most evident at the end of the article when the family is given the opportunity to leave their home of several years. The catch is that they only have a few hours to pack up their belongings with no knowledge of where they'll end up. The system assumes they have no emotional ties to their surroundings, their belongings or their fellow neighbors. So like animals who are adopted to new owners, they must appreciate the new opportunity while ignoring any emotions that come from leaving - a feat that anyone would struggle with.
So when will our world change for the better?
We're Captive on the Carousel of Time
A few weeks ago my old roommate (or shall I say ten roommates ago) emailed me asking about my dealings with our old apartment. After six years in our East Village, St. Mark's apartment which I lovingly referred to as a small dark hole, she was moving out. Naturally I suggested we celebrate over drinks and asked her for an update on how the apartment has been since I moved out about four years ago. The St. Mark's apartment had been my first New York City apartment, a sublet steal. In fact, its very location inspired questions like "who did you have to screw to get this place." While it was a privilege to live on New York City's most iconic streets in one of my favorite neighborhoods, the apartment also provided enough creative fodder for Girls-like blog posts and novel-worthy story elements. There's nothing like a little pain to help the creative juices flow.Or to give you a full picture; when asked for an update on the apartment, my roommate's response was:
"I am actually moving back to parents for a few months, then moving in with my boyfriend. I just can't deal with the building anymore. Slum lord is right. We literally didn't have gas for six weeks over the holidays - so out of control! Let's see what else you missed - They redid the gas lines in the building two years ago, we literally had no wall outside of our apartment for the last two years. They just replaced it last week and repainted because they were fined by the city. They replaced the lines at least three times cause they kept doing it wrong. Our bathroom ceiling caved in last summer because the person above us rents the apartment like a hotel - a new person every 3 days and they broke the shower or toilet, it leaked down. Old Man Winter, and M both died (90yr old+ building tenants) :( Old Man Winter left behind a hoarders delight - literally men with hazmat suits were removing things from his apartment to dumpsters that were 12' high and half a block along the length of St. Mark's, it was insane. This went on for two days. And the little clog man who wears the heels and always used to say the elevator is broken has taken to peeing in the hall, in fact, I've caught him numerous times standing on the stairs holding his junk. Awesome. Never a dull moment at 22 St. Mark's. The one good thing is that the newish super is actually the nicest man and responsive. As crazy as it was in that building I will miss my usual surroundings for sure."
If you don't live in the fantasy world of Carrie Bradshaw and have to live within a real budget, you sure as hell better have a sense of humor. Despite the daily trials of the apartment, I still walk by it with fondness and I'm sure my former roommate will do the same. We made it out with steal resilience, tons of memories and our sense of humor in tact.
Only in Brooklyn?
After a week of contacting different rescue organizations and no kill animal shelters, then putting up a flier in my favorite coffee spot - Blue Marble, I finally found a foster home for the family of kittens. Brooklyn Animal Foster Network helped me capture the family (not without a few scratches and an intense bite) and will arrange for them to get their shots and spayed at a discounted price, working with the ACPCA. I met the wonderful young couple through Twitter. As I posted pictures and updates about the kittens, they realized, like me, that they couldn't not do something. So about two weeks after finding the kittens, I found myself in their living room in Brooklyn, checking up on the family while they were away at work. I get my kitten updates from the guy's Twitter feed. Happiness!
His Tweet "Fireplace repurposed #kittenpile Only in Brooklyn?
A few days prior, I attended an awesome casual Sunday dinner, that lasted till 1am. I was invited by a girl who lived in my apartment and whom I had met while feeding the kittens. By the end of the night, me, her friend, her and her boyfriend were laughing harder than I've laughed in months. I lived in Manhattan for five years and barely knew my neighbors, let alone broke bread with them - three months living in Brooklyn and I know three neighbors, have had friendly conversations with my super and already have a favorite local barista.
Last Sunday, I came back from an afternoon date to my friend's insistent text messages that I join her for a drink. She told me she made friends while drinking alone at a bar. Hey! Don't knock it. Apparently you can make new friends drinking alone. So I joined her and her ten new friends at a bar a few blocks from my apartment. We went to dinner and learned more about one another. Then dinner turned into - let's go watch a movie back at my place. So me and five others trekked to Fort Greene to one of the nicest bachelor pads I've ever seen and watched a cheesy, 80's Kurt Russell movie. While there, I discovered that one of my new friends works at a company I used to work at and dated someone I interviewed with. You can hang out in Park Slope, Fort Greene, Clinton Hill or Prospect Heights, throw an iPhone and it will hit someone who works in the advertising/ media world.
Only in Brooklyn?
Perfect Strangers
While packing and I don't get along, I love to travel. My adventures started a few hours before I hopped into a cab towards the airport bound for Minnesota. I sat in a cafe a block away from my new apartment. Moments after I sat down, the guy across from me struck up a conversation. He's a successful composer who's created some fairly famous music. He talked about how most New Yorkers have headphones permanently plugged into their ears. We're constantly surrounded by the sounds of the city - rarely left to hear our own thoughts.Recently, my friend came to visit me from Northern, NJ. He had taken an hour long subway ride without his headphones or even a book. "But what did you do? You mean you just sat there?" I asked him in complete disbelief. "I just listened to my own thoughts, let my mind go blank." I walked home from the cafe for one block listening to the sounds of the city and was promptly given a generous "hello" by an old man on my street.
My adventurous path had a slight hiccup. Others call it Laguardia Airport. This was one of the first times in a long while that I've flown on an airline other than Virgin America or Jet Blue. I can't tell if it's the type of passengers who were sitting next to me or the lack of personal entertainment systems - but I learned more about the lives of those sitting next to me than three year long Manhattan neighbors.
I met a banker who grew up in Norway but moved to Chicago for college. While raising his kids, he lived in Hong Kong and Florida. He joked about wanting to be independently wealthy and could no longer stand the constant travel his job required. Kind, well dressed and well spoken, he dreamed of a life beyond banking, a profession, he noted, that was now hated. It was interesting to see his perspective and even more interesting to note that he was sitting in coach.
The woman next to me was from Chicago but recently moved to Denver. She's a single mother of two college aged twin girls. Her dream was to start her own business but she was coming back from New York for a job interview. She constantly had a new question for the Norwegian who was equally as inquisitive.
I just finished reading this delightfully entertaining and inspiring book "Entre Nous: A Woman's Guide to Finding her Inner French Girl." It goes beyond superficial advice and delves into the cultural differences between the French and Americans. For instance, in France, one is not defined by their job. And one does not share their life story and private dreams to their fellow passengers during a two hour long domestic flight.
Finally, As I was waiting in O'Hare for my connecting flight to Minneapolis, I struck up a conversation with a young, friendly girl while waiting for the "charging station." She was from Texas and a recent college graduate who was on her way to Russia. She's visited a Russian orphanage as a volunteer through her church organization twice and this was her first trip going without church, to visit those children who are now her friends. Many of us cynical, non-religious New Yorkers tend to judge and fear conservative middle America or Southern church organizations. But it often seems that as we sit in a cafe, drinking our lattes and reading the New York Times about an article that's criticizing the far right, and role of the church in America, those church-goers are raising money so they can visit an orphanage in Russia and bring a smile on someone's face.
I got on my short flight towards Minneapolis sitting next to a young man who I suspected was in the army. We rolled our eyes as we listened to a two year old screaming with an unnaturally loud set of lungs but didn't talk. I thought, when we're left to our own thoughts, we dream about leaving the banking business, starting our own creative business, leaving Texas to go to Russia, leaving New York to live in Paris, or simply, realizing how similar a perfect stranger can be to ... ourselves.
Moving Towards Success
One of the areas of life that I'm fascinated with is how people find success and what drives people towards success, especially if they've taken a unique path. It seems that over and over again, we hear stories of great pain leading to great and unique accomplishments. My mother emailed me a link to this article about a friend of my sister's from my hometown who has finally "hit it big" or is on the verge of something great. Anne MarsenGirl Walk // All Day is yet another example of someone who pushed on and pursued what she loved doing and is finally being recognized. When you really think about entertainers who have made a name for themselves, I'm guessing on average, they were working for a good ten years before having a featured article about them in a national publication, and Anne is no exception. I remember hearing about her constantly working as an extra or auditioning for parts, probably when she was in middle school. Her perseverance is a total inspiration.Anyway, I highly recommend you take the time to check out this video of her dancing to the latest Girl Talk mashup on the Staten Island Ferry. I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to just randomly run around dancing in a public space in Manhattan. Maybe I'll ask her to teach me some moves.
[vimeo 18446531 w=400 h=225]
Girl Walk // All Day from jacob krupnick on Vimeo.
A New Chapter?
So once again, I'm in between coasts and really don't know where life will take me, but I guess it's pretty exciting.This afternoon, I went out to lunch with my mom at a local cafe. She kind of tricked me. I thought we were going to go to the larger Cheesecake Factory because I've had an overwhelming and unexplainable craving for pasta for the last few days. But when I got in the car, she demanded we go some place more local. Okay.. I guess it was a misunderstanding. For me, going to local restaurants in my hometown is kind of torture. I really don't need to make small talk with people my mother knows from town. And I really don't need to be introduced as the "older daughter" only to get mistaken for a recent high school graduate. I kid you not. This happens every time. Actually, today's experience was so typical I could have just had deja vu.
SCENE ONELet me set the scene for you. We enter a nearly full cafe mostly filled with people over 50. My mother and I sit down right smack in the middle of two tables that are only about a foot apart from us. Right away, she says hello to the table next to us, introducing me.. blah blah blah. They make small talk. Two minutes later, she recognizes the woman on her other side. They make small talk. She congratulates the woman because she had recently heard her son was engaged. I ask who her son is. She says that I'm probably too young and don't know him. Yup. Her son is 5 years younger than me and is friends with a childhood friend's younger brother. I don't know him because he's younger than me. She apologizes for the mistake and the whole table nods in agreement that I'm better off looking way younger than I am.END SCENE
SCENE TWOAfter dropping my mother off, I head to the Riverside Square Mall to return a few things. It is incredibly upscale and usually quiet although to my delight, they have recently opened an H&M. I walk around admiring the hair of an Orthodox woman who is, from what I gather, shopping with her husband. She looks incredibly young and I try to figure out how she got her hair to be so thick and shiny with a near professional blow out until I realize, oh yeah, it's a wig. Orthodox women have to shave their heads and wear wigs when they get married. A few minutes later, I enter Victoria's Secret where I hear the Pains of Being Pure at Heart playing in the store. I'm stunned. One of the band members went to both my high school and college. In fact, one time sophomore year in high school, we both got yelled at because we slid out my bedroom window and hung out on my roof. According to my dad, we could have fallen through and broken the roof. Right. END SCENE
SCENE THREEI make my last stop at Barnes & Noble. I would have preferred waiting to purchase a new Moleskin at Borders assuming they carry them and they go on sale, but my Moleskin needs were pressing. As many of my friends know, I'm obsessed with notebooks. I stare at the selections, intensely imagining myself with either a hard covered or soft covered black Moleskin. Red or black. I curse myself for leaving my hard covered, black Moleskin in San Francisco and finally settle on a perfect replacement - soft covered black. My obsessiveness in finding the perfect notebook ties back to a need to start a new chapter in my life. If, God forbid, I made the wrong notebook choice, my new life would be off to a wrong start, right? Yes, knowing my compulsions and quarks in the first step to recovery. It takes me another 10 minutes to choose the perfect Thank You note cards for my job interviews. I finally settle on a delicate case of cards that feature an Eiffel Tower with a scripted "merci" in magenta. So here I am entering a new chapter of my life - a potential new job, definitely a different area of advertising, a new decade (30 in April), potentially a new apartment and even new city (Brooklyn). But on my journey, I have equipped myself with the same type of notebook that I used to plan out my change. The cards I chose reflect my love of Paris and magenta. And actions told me that our purchases strongly reflect who we are in deeper and nuanced ways.END SCENE
SCENE FOURAfter carefully selecting my purchases, I head to the cash register. With a sinking feeling, I recognize the woman at the register. I vaguely remember her being my boss at some job I had about 10 years ago. For some reason, I hope she doesn't recognize me, but she does. She says my face looks so familiar. I completely get her wrong even though I rarely try to guess people's name. Her name is not Dorothy and she's not my boss from Clinique. Nope. She worked with me at B. Dalton, the now defunct bookstore, previously owned by Barnes and Noble. It was one of my first after school jobs that I insisted on getting my senior year of high school. It's where I first heard about Harry Potter way back in 1999 when they were considered just children's books. It's where I first worked in a place that didn't involve sweating in a camp t-shirt. And here she was, working the cash register. Like me, she has probably gone through many hardships and experiences over the last 12 years but honestly hadn't aged a bit. The recent New York Times article about the failings of the publishing industry flashed in my mind. I think about how strongly I'm contemplating finally purchasing a Kindle. We both genuinely smile and wish each other well. As I walk away, I wonder, is this a new chapter? Or am I re-reading a different version of the same story?END SCENE
A Quick Lesson in Karma
Often times I get into debates with people about the validity of karma. My response is that logically, even if you don't believe in karma, you're better off following its principals because if it does exist, than you're shit out of luck. I do try to be the giver rather than the taker in situations that allow me to do so, i.e. with tipping, helping friends out, etc. And in many cases, I have very generous friends and especially parents who have helped me out when needed. So I may not directly be able to give back to the friend that has helped me in the same way, but I have helped another friend thus continuing some sort of imaginary karma thread or paying it forward.
Yesterday, I was sitting in a cafe I've enjoyed working in many times when I overheard a man, who I thought was the owner, discussing how he wanted to get more involved in social media. After sitting there listening to their conversation for 5 minutes, I couldn't stand it anymore and offered to help him set up his Twitter, explain FourSquare (especially since I was the mayor of his cafe), and utilize the services. I spent the next 2 hours setting up his accounts, creating clever Check In specials (check into Caffe Roma) and generally enjoying his company and those around him. I didn't expect anything in return and enjoyed using my knowledge on social media to help a great coffee shop do more business.
That evening, a friend made me a delicious dinner complete with Mexican pudding! Today, I made a few great connections via Twitter and overall.. seems like things are looking on the up & up as far as jobs go. And so I ask you, do you believe in karma?
Back In San Francisco!!!
I arrived back in San Francisco yesterday morning after having woken up at 4am for my 7:30am flight. Thank you Papa Dukes for driving me, and no, I have no idea why me or my sister call you that. But before I left, Mischief walked in front of me 3 times on Friday. I suspect it was to trip me so I couldn't leave. But the more likely explanation is that Mischief doesn't realize the pecking order of cats to humans; i.e. that he has to move out of the way. Yes, I nearly fell down the stairs. My father plopped Thomas onto my bed before I went to sleep and instructed him to "stay with his mother." And he did, until I woke up at 4am. All the cats looked genuinely confused at being woken up that early. They looked to us for guidance. Their eyes said "ma, should I eat now or go back to sleep? I don't get this. It's still dark."
Okay, enough about cats. We arrived at the airport with ample time. I switched on my light weight jacket and nearly started shivering during my walk from the car to the airport. 15 degrees will do that to you. If there was ever a girl who understood self-branding, it's me. I don't know many people who accidentally have 4 items of a deep magenta on - my pants, scarf, handbag and carry-on suitcase.
I sat in the Virgin America waiting room trying not to fall asleep and spotted a group of 4 young boys. They looked Eastern European with crew cuts, all probably within 4 years of each other, gathered around a pretty red headed girl with her MacBook Pro open. It was like a scene out of period piece, children gathered their a mother reading a bedtime story. But instead, it was at JFK, in the waiting area of a Virgin America flight, the book was a MacBook and the woman wasn't their mother. Surreal.
The flight was fairly uneventful. I arrived in San Francisco to absolutely beautiful weather. After settling in and showering, I walked around North Beach, almost able to pretend I was in Italy. With the unseasonably warm weather, everyone was out and about. Despite having access to a million forms of entertainment, there's no denying that simply walking outside, laying out in the sun, talking to friends, eating and drinking coffee is usually the most enjoyable. And more than that, it's timeless. I could have taken that walk (minus listening to music from my iPhone), hundreds of years ago. Although it's most likely I wouldn't have seen a cat on a leash. Yes, only in San Francisco.
After going into stores I never had time to explore while in school, I had dinner by myself at a cafe where I read and sat outside. Note to self - arrange dinners before I get to my destination! I started a conversation with two older men sitting next to me. One was a taxi driver who was full of interesting stories. He seemed genuinely happy with his job and said it was way less stressful than being a cab driver in New York. Like for instance, if he wanted a break, he could go to Ocean Beach and just sit and watch the ocean. I learned that he went on less drug runs now for people. That if he doesn't trust someone, he'll drive around until they get the hint and leave. He told me about a successful woman who lived a bi-coastal lifestyle. He said that she seemed like a go-getter with endless amounts of energy. Is that the key to success? Anyway, it feels good to be back. I'd have these experiences in New York but think San Franciscians are more friendly and more likely to talk to strangers. It's obvious to me that I'll be happy where ever I end up and am enjoying the journey.
A New York Minute
I've been living on the Upper West Side since Friday night, cat-sitting for a friend. Kind of the perfect situation and I really lucked out. So far, I've lived in the East Village, Upper East Side and Chelsea. Hmm.. What's next? I'm not going to get into how confused I am. I'm pretty sure they put some sort of addictive substances in the New York water because there's no logical explanation as to why this city has such a strong pull on me when I was so gong-ho about San Francisco - At a time when the garbage hasn't been collected, it's 30 degrees and the curbs are full of murky, cold puddles. Oh yeah, I know.. it's the people. While I've met many cool people in San Francisco and I'm sure I have yet to meet many more, the fact remains that I have so many friends here and have built relationships in every area of my life during the five years that I've been here. Good thing I just have to leave things up to the job market, at this point.
So I was taking the 2 train which I rarely ever take - whole different crew from the 4/5/6 and noticed an interesting scene. It was about five, very charged, minutes on the subway ride that said so much about New York and what makes it so interesting. A (presumably) Orthodox woman was with her young child who was cranky and misbehaving in his stroller. He was about 3 years old and wouldn't sit still and kept accidentally kicking me. A black man with tattoos all over his body including tear marks near his eyes, started speaking to the pretty, young, blond woman, telling her to control her child. He was swearing at her and mumbling about white women not being able to control their children and how the children needed to be smacked around. Her response was that her son was tired and cranky and she sounded kind and exhausted, not wanting to get into an argument. I stood in the middle of them hoping it wouldn't escalate but wondering what I'd do or say if it did. On the way out, I looked back to see the mother with her son talking and laughing with another black woman who also had a child, presumably bonding and making friends over the situation.
New York is obviously incredibly diverse as a whole but each neighborhood is fairly segregated. I'm pretty sure my home town in Northern, NJ was more racially diverse than the Upper East Side but we came from similar places economically which at least united us in some way. But on the subway, there are people coming on from Brooklyn, to Manhattan, to Harlem, to the Bronx, & Queens. It unites us all. It's a place where stereotypes and frustrations all come out, where rich businessmen are tightly squeezed next to Bronx gang members, who are tightly squeezed next to Jewish mothers, who are tightly squeezed next to millions of other people that don't fit or defy stereotypes. So as addicting as the sound effects are to Angry Birds, turn down your phone and listen to what's around you. You may learn something.
Where Am I?
So I've been staying at my parent's house for the last week after spending nearly three months in San Francisco. It's been quite the whirlwind. I guess I'm fairly good at dealing with change. - I just keep myself busy and avoid thinking about it. So I've gone to being at school for three months in San Francisco where I was generally so busy that I rarely had lunch before 3pm, to staying at my parent's house where the only exercise I get is walking from the upstairs to the downstairs and back again. And thanks to the blizzard of 2010, I was forced to stay inside. Technically, I'm now unemployed, instead of being student, and my future is a big blank slate. Well, okay, it's not that dramatic. I at least know what I want to do.. just have no idea where I'm going to end up.
I'm looking for account strategy jobs in both NYC and San Francisco. Right now, most of my possessions are at my parent's house in NJ. And then I have a plane ticket back to SF on January 15th where I have an apartment and a few of my clothes. But other than that, there's a big question mark. How much do I bring back to San Francisco? What do I actually need? Where will I work? What's better - having an apartment in San Francisco but few friends or job contacts? Or having no apartment in NYC, most of my friends and a slew of job contacts?
Right now, I feel like I want to be independent and move across country. I wouldn't mind starting fresh. But the longer I'm in the NYC/NJ area, the more I reach into my past instead of moving forward. Is this detrimental? Healthy? Then again, is my past really that bad? When I left NYC in the early fall, I had so many people I cared for and genuinely liked that it was hard to schedule time with everyone. I felt like I was always "catching up" with people instead of hanging out. And it took me five years to get to that point where all of the people I spent time with were those who I genuinely respected and were a joy to be around. When I got to San Fransisco, I automatically had a crew of 30+ people to hang out with on any given day when I actually had time to hang out. What's going to happen now that that crew is back in their homes, around the world?
Today, I had my things moved out of storage and into my parent's house. After living at my parent's house for a week, I finally have a desk to work on (my novel hopefully), I finally have adequate space to house my clothing and book shelves for my books. While I was in San Francisco, I felt weightless, freed by my three suitcases worth of clothing and freed by my mobility. But now, as I look around my room, I sit at the 67 pound desk that I once hauled up my 3rd story walk up on St. Mark's and put together. I look at the 6ft tall bookshelf that I dragged ten blocks and up five flights of stairs. And the IKEA bureau that I was so excited to also carry up five flights of stairs after not having a bureau for four years. The truth is, it's all cheap furniture. None of it matches. But it's mine. I look through my books and remember the inspiration they gave me and I think about how as a collection, they show who I am or who I want to be. But does all this matter? They're only material items.
Having the bigger room, my sister is now the proud owner of my former bed. It sits in her room with a few of my bookshelves and with my bedding. It's kind of weird. I feel possessive of it, like I want it to be mine after not having slept on it for four months. It feels like home. But who cares. It's only a bed. So yeah, here I am, caught between my past and on the verge of stepping into a new future with a clean slate. How appropriate as we approach the end of a decade and I approach the end of my twenties...
Connections
I've officially been in San Francisco for over a month. As you can probably tell from the lack of posts, I'm having a wonderful time. The account planning program consists of 18 people, including 4 Brazilians, 2 Spaniards, 1 Argentinian, 1 Serbian, 1 Singaporean and 6 Americans from around the country. We're all motivated, curious, interesting, intelligent and kind, to say the least. It's sort of like study abroad except people are mature and everyone is genuinely appreciative of the experience because we've all put a lot of time and money into the program. I can't put into words how great it feels to be exactly where I was meant to be and I say that in the broadest terms.
Within the first two weeks, I met a few people who are now very good friends. In fact, I've probably met over a hundred people but can remember the exact moment that I met these people I now consider close friends. There was an instant and mutual connection. With them, I only had one solid thing in common - but otherwise, we all come from completely different backgrounds. What is it about our personalities that result in us connecting? Is there such a thing as a soul mate? Platonic soul mate? Could we each take personality tests that would predict our friendship? Is there science behind this? Psychology? Do we remind each other of other friendships? I've been pondering these questions but mostly enjoying the ride.
Fate & A Long Winding Path To Account Planning
This week marked the first week of classes at Miami Ad School Account Planning Boot Camp in San Francisco. Yeah - don't try saying that one in one breath. In all honesty, I'm incredibly excited to finally get to work even though I'm slightly terrified about what's ahead. I started having too much time on my hands despite exploring and adjusting to the city. And for me, too much time usually results in boy drama and over thinking previous relationships. OY VEY. Which often leads to thinking about fate. Are we fated to meet a certain person? Follow a certain path? As a future Account Planner, it will be my job to make connections between ideas and behaviors; to find an insight and recognize that it's the right strategy. So what insight can I gather about myself regarding my own career?
When I was a child, I would insistently demand that my father explain the "why" to everything, which drove him crazy. In school, I had trouble with math and science mainly because it meant memorizing facts and making connections without entirely understanding the "why." I generate ideas. I've dabbled in a million creative ventures but could never see myself working only as an artist. I'm slightly obsessive, I'm curious, I like learning about anything and everything. In short, I was meant to be an account planner. Last year I went to a career coach and wrote down my values and what kind of job I wanted. Without knowing it - I described what an account planner does. And somehow my photography (an interest I pursued because I always need to educate myself) lead to working with an account planner. Finally, when people asked why I wanted to be an account planner, I'd respond with "It's the Truth in Advertising" which I've recently found out is the title to the "account planning" handbook. That being said, I think it's important to evaluate your life - take a step back and look at your own patterns. Meet new people, experience new things, keep a journal and you'll realize that maybe the answer you seek is already within you. You just have to find it.
All the Updates Fit to Print
After spending a week in Cape Cod with my family, then a few days laying on my parent's couch watching TV (I kid you not), I packed my stuff AGAIN and headed into the city. My attempt to cram 5 years worth of clothing and stuff in my childhood room failed miserably. Consequently, I had stuff in boxes and in my sister's closet - causing me to forget an entire wardrobe section when packing for New York. I swear I don't shop more than most women, but just have the bad tendency to buy 2 of same thing in different colors at the Gap when really, I should be buying one of something at, Banana. So off I went from complete laziness to hauling my suitcase and various bags onto the bus, into the subway, then lugging it up five flights of stairs in Chelsea where I stayed with a fitness instructor for the week. Talk about night and day, a complete change of pace and a perfect example of what living in the city means versus living in the burbs. When I wasn't working out with LITA Group, I jumped from meeting to meeting, attempting to work in Starbucks or cafes around the city.
Some highlights in no particular order:
- I had my first spa facial which I didn't find at all impressive. I felt it was just a means to push products and if for some reason I had $100 to spend, I'd choose a massage over a facial in a second.
- I brought my Chelsea living fitness instructor friend to a meeting on the Upper East Side (not by choice) to which she proclaimed "I forgot that there were straight men in New York."
- I made friends with a dog named Joe who's owner insisted he didn't take to humans easily.
- I spotted some fashion trends while walking around during fashion week. Short is in people!
- I had lunch with one old friend and one new where I asked my new friend all about drugs and gambling - all while unknowingly sitting behind a few cops.
- I attended another NY Tech Meetup, which was great all in all (Google Goggles - Hello?!) and the after party was just as fun.
- I walked around downtown enjoying the beautiful fall weather and was quickly reminded of how much I love New York. I LOVE NEW YORK. No, really... I love downtown. The Upper East Side was an experiment that I will not repeat. I guess you don't know how much you love something until you lose it.
Washington Square Park Street Performer from Molly A on Vimeo.
- And finally, I had dinner in "Bay Ridge Yo" with two friends. Now that is something I wouldn't mind repeating. It was an experience. Just what you'd expect and yet only minutes away from Manhattan. People were dressed to the nines for dinner although some women weren't wearing much at all. It was the restaurant owner's birthday and the evening entertainment was a fire swallowing dancer. When we asked him what he thought her mother must think, his response was "I'm sure it was either this or stripping."
Advice from a Fortune Cookie
I've finally gotten to packing/throwing out the little things in my apartment including a pile of fortune cookie fortunes.
Some good advice:
A true friend is someone who is there for you when he'd rather be anywhere else.
(err.. who wants to help me carry boxes downstairs on Friday?)
Love yourself first and everything falls into line.
(word)
Most of us have far more courage than we ever dreamed we possessed.
(True dat. Change is good. Take a risk)
If you have no critics you'll likely have no success.
(negative commentors - don't get any ideas)
A small gift can bring joy to the whole family.
(my address is.... )
It's tough to be fascinating.
(Hey! Pay attention to me - I'm blogging here)
And that, folks will be my last post from East 66th Street and hopefully the Upper East Side.
Totally Self Indulgent Post & Reflections
I seemed to have forgotten that this is my PERSONAL blog.. so I'm going to try and take it back to its roots. This has been an interesting and productive day for the most part. I worked in the morning, and met with a fellow blogger/ Twitter friend for coffee. Hello Twitter friends! Wow. I can't stress enough how rewarding it is to make new connections in the most random ways. Like on Sunday, for instance, I made new friends while photographing people on the street and waiting for the Second Avenue bus in the rain.
I digress.
After walking half the length of Manhattan (long story), I met up with a few of my good friends. Actually, it was kind of awesome. They were all friends from different areas of my life who finally got to meet each other. We had 2 people with the same last name (unrelated) and two people with nearly the same first name. It would have been even more awesome if I wasn't so distracted by the fact that I ran into my ex AGAIN. If that weren't a weird enough coincidence, another friend who I haven't seen in years showed up at the restaurant to order takeout. More oddly still, he has the same name as my OTHER friend who I was hoping could have came, but who happened to be having dinner with my other ex boyfriend. You don't really need to follow all of that. I think the point is that New York is getting too small for me. Especially with my ability to spot familiar faces after seeing them for only a nano second.
Being that I'm moving in a week from the Upper East Side (holy cow! Freaking out! In denial about packing!), I thought it was appropriate that I reflected on where I was about a year ago before I moved Uptown. At the time, I was sick of the downtown crowds. Was going out way too much and eating the amazing fast food of the East Village. Post from last year: "Short story long, if it's not already obvious, I'm really looking forward to moving. There is no question that I need to change my lifestyle and develop more healthy habits. And a move is the fresh start that I obviously need. I can't wait to regularly run in Central Park, cook healthy meals with more than 4 inches of counter space, develop buns of steel from my 5th story walk up, NOT regularly stop at Criff Dog, Ray's Pizza, Pinkberry, Red Mango, etc. on my way home, save money, not stop at Solas... and get serious about applying to a master's program this fall. So yeah, feel free to hold me accountable and I'll happily entertain you with my progress. Maybe even be an inspiration.. but yeah, I may miss Pheobe the cat."
So where am I now, you ask? Well.. I still go out to eat way too much but can count on my fingers (and toes) how many times this year I've gone on a 5am, Solas bender. But I can also count the same number of times I've gone running in Central Park. I don't eat Red Mango or Pinkberry anymore mainly because I discovered I'm lactose intolerant. Eesh. Might have used up the enzymes on those treats! No Masters programs but at least I'm going to a "boot camp" in San Francisco in the Fall. Overall, I have changed a lot and I guess matured in my ways. And I'd have to say that I've probably experienced more changes while living on East 66th street than any other 1 year period in my life. It has been quite the roller coaster. One of the benefits of having only lived in an apartment for a year is that I'm not sentimental. Yes, I'll miss Java Girl, will miss my roommate, will miss my sunlit room (long pause.. awkward whistle...) BUT.. that's about it! On to the next adventure!
This post brought to you by procrastination: attempt #652 at working on my novel.
Dating = Energy
My friend and I had a four hour "conversation" via email yesterday (34 emails in total!) about the time and energy that dating takes out of us. I'm not even looking for anything right now because I could be across the country in a few months.. but alas.. somehow I fell into dating and all the stress that comes with it.
"A" commented that, "we put so much effort, time, and brainpower into thinking about the opposite sex - whether dating, trying to have sex, flirting, hooking up, etc. I wonder what people our age who are married or in long term relationships think about and use all that excess energy on."
To which I responded that they put all that excess energy into planning dinner parties and telling their single friends to stop looking/thinking about finding someone because they'll find them when they least expect it.
What do you think?
In other news - I've decided that my problem is that I get enamored with the idea of someone before I've really evaluated if we have a connection; i.e. the idea of dating an artist, or a writer, or a former musician, or a computer geek. Totally lame. I know. I do, however, try to stay open minded and don't turn down guys just because they don't fit my mold - if I even have a mold. Yeah, speaking of energy, I was totally putting all my energy into other things besides men for a bit. I'll work on getting back into that zone soon before I get too side tracked.
Philharmonics in the Park - Ponderings
This evening, I went to hear the Philharmonics in Central Park with family friends and learned a few things about myself. Okay, to be fair, the evening re-enforced what I already knew. Maybe my post is slightly influenced by the two glasses of wine I had but here it goes -
1. Life is beautiful
2. I love New York
3. And I can never become vegetarian or kosher simply because of the existence of prosciutto.
In other news, yesterday I endured two back to back 45 minute spin classes with Carl at Crunch. Yes, that spin class. The one I've gone to for about 4 years now where everyone knows my name (I'm famous, or infamous!) and I wonder if this will be the class that I finally fall off my bike and pass out. But alas, I did not! Apparently after 70 minutes of spin, you kind of get into a zone and can't feel your legs anymore. Hello endorphins! And hello enlightenment. I realize that Carl's class is a metaphor for life: it never gets easier, but if you tough it out, work hard and have a positive attitude, you'll not only get through it - but will be stronger because of it.
And on that, I bid good night. Peace, Love & Happiness.
Web Wandering Wednesdays
I went to my third New York Tech Meetup last night. Nothing entirely revolutionary but I'll definitely be signing up to the dating site How About We. Already got good reviews from a friend of mine and was written up in the New York Times. Just had the classic - saw pictures of my ex with another girl on vacation in a foreign country - experience. Oy vey. Only mere months after we broke up. So yeah.. if my life wasn't so up in the air about now, I'd say a good round of dating would be a great idea. Maybe I'll try it anyway :)
Ponderings
In other news - my lease is up at the end of July. Not sure what my roommate and I are doing in terms of apartments. I'm applying to a 3 month program in San Francisco that doesn't start until October but I won't find out if I've gotten in until Mid-August. Options are - sign another lease with my roommate some place in the dreaded "Uptown." Find a cheap month to month sublet probably in Brooklyn or Downtown. Or.. eek. Live with my parents for 2 months. Part of me wants to live with them just so I can watch True Blood and Madmen right when it airs. Saw two back to back episodes of True Blood last night while in Schmersey and I'm hooked again...
Urggggggg
So I was sitting in my apartment, minding my own business.. actually focused and getting work done.. when the police knock on my door. Long story short, apparently someone accused us (our apartment) of throwing Oscar out of the window because of the way he fell. So now I know officially that he squeezed out of a 2 inch open window in the living room - jumping on the windowsill that night even though he's never done that before. I know that however he fell, he somehow leaped. There's a cord hanging in front of that window. My guess is that he was chasing birds or something and somehow decided to squeeze himself under the window to latch on and attack the cord. It's been over a week and while I'll never "get over it" I was attempting to move in. Now I have a detailed visual of exactly what happened, am thinking about it when I shouldn't be.. and to sum it up - This sucks. Blah.. it's not reaaaallly time to get out of this apartment.
On the bright side - it's good to know that there are specific ASPCA police and that they take animal abuse very seriously. I'm sort of shaking right now.. Maybe time for an outdoor run?