| |||||||||||||||||
|
Thursday, April 12, 2012
A message from Richie
Monday, February 2, 2009
25 Things
1. Why
Ok, so enough of these '25 things' have gone around on Facebook that they need no further explanation. I tend to ignore the surveys and fill-in-the-blank questionnaires, but this presented an opportunity. For you -- a chance to learn a couple new things about my life and experiences. For me -- it was a bit of a cathartic exercise, trying to characterize myself and my feelings. I make no apologies for its length, tone, or content; no one is forcing you to read, but if you choose to, grab some coffee and get comfortable -- this could get intimate.
2. Pets
We'll start off easy. My main companion at home is a brown, loppy eared rabbit named Lola (run!). A little over 3 1/2 years old, she's full of energy, acts like a dog at times, and would nibble my fingers until there's nothing left. Besides her I've somehow managed to keep my one fish and a handful of plants alive. In the not-so-alive-anymore column though is Trixie, the dog we had when I was in grade/high school; a schnauzer-something mix, she loved rawhides and being left alone. But every morning she'd jump up and curl at the edge of my bed before I got up for school. Being there and watching her be put down was the worst feeling in the world.
3. Living Locations
Ok, perhaps that was a bit too emotional to start. How about where I've lived? After popping out in Buffalo and living there for about 11 years on the east side (till the neighborhood went bad... getting burglarized will do that to 'ya), I moved out to Cheektowaga, the next suburb over. Between 4th grade and right after HS graduation, I moved again not once but twice to other apartments in the town... silly landlords. Finally had a place/dorm of my own when I headed off to RIT in Rochester, NY freshman year. When we all got kicked out to let next year's class in, I picked up some roomies and landed a very nice apartment -- which would become home for the next five years (the longest span of residency since my childhood). Flash forward past graduation to the move to Brunswick, OH. Had a tiny apartment with no furniture; seriously, I slept on an air mattress all year. Same town but switched apartments the next year, and then a year later moved a town closer to where I worked (affordable Medina). Can I see myself living here forever? Hell no. I need warmth. Sun. Things to do! I'd love to live in NYC for a year, maybe San Fran for a while, same with Phoenix. Who knows if I'll ever own a house?
4. Travel
Never took a family vacation growing up, so I'm making up for lost time now. I love to travel. Road trips? Check. Take a plane? Turn up the turbulence! And not one to rest on my laurels -- the vast majority of my "vacations" are hardly relaxing at all; I'm usually awake longer, am more active, and I tend to need a few days to recuperate afterwards. Oh, and I also tend to take pictures. LOTS of pictures. You may have seen a few on Facebook. Anyways, at last count I've rolled through about 40 states and two Canadian provinces. Would love to get a passport and travel internationally -- New Zealand / Australia is at the top of my list -- but I better start saving. Regardless of where I'm going though, my travels typically revolve around one or two things:
5. Roller Coasters
Who would've thunk that the pansy-ass kid who was scared of roller coasters and even deathly more afraid of going upside down would later turn into a total coaster junkie? Don't ask how it happened, but since then I've visited over 50 amusement parks and ridden nearly 400 coasters across the continent. Besides, it makes me feel like a kid again. Not to feel left out, my adult side got in on the act by getting hired as a web designer; duties including making and maintaining the Cedar Point website. Some days can get incredibly monotonous, while on others I'm able to accomplish some really cool stuff. For the record, Superman at Six Flags: New England is perfection.
6. Skydiving
Continuing with the thrill-seeking persona nobody saw coming, I made my first skydive when I was 18 and was hooked right then and there. Took a while before I had enough cash to get through student training, but in practically no time I was falling on my head at 240mph, doing multiple plane formation dives, and (about 800+ jumps later) having more fun in the sky than I ever could on terra firma. It's not for everyone, but it is for me -- and I'm upset I haven't been jumping as much lately. Blame the economy, blame the dropzone, blame what you will... at some point the flame will be rekindled, I'll brush up on those rusty skills, and I hope to finally even start instructing for real (I guess psuedo-coaching doesn't count now). Do I see BASE jumping in my future too? Perhaps... I mean, I've also bungee jumped out of a helicopter, what do I have to fear?
7. Sports
It's amusing how extreme sports excite me, but run-of-the-mill competitive sports tend to leave me yawning. Closest I got to fan participation was watching some hockey games at RIT. I enjoyed it from the bleachers, until one day a poorly-aimed slapshot nailed a puck right at my head. Luckily there was no drain bamage. Prior to, gym class was even worse; I was terrible at softball, wretched at touch football, and utterly pathetic at ultimate frisbee. Ultimate frisbee! Knew what I was doing in dodgeball though (I dodged that motherfuckin' ball!). Eventually I somehow got a bit respectable at volleyball, soccer, and floor hockey -- good defenseman -- but I'll definitely shy away from any competition today.
8. Video Games
So what did I do when every other cool kid in school was playing sports, partying, or getting laid? Why I immersed myself in video games of course! (But only after my homework was done.) From classic Super Mario to even more classic Super Mario World, I rocked the shit out of my NES and SNES. Fell in love with RPGs, especially the Final Fantasy series (oh Locke and Celes, I miss you guys). Then, I got to college, and I practically quit cold turkey. Maybe I got preoccupied. Or just afraid of the PlayStation. Either way, I've missed out on FPSs, MMORPGs, and even Super Mario Galaxy. But I have bought a wii, so challenge me to some Mario Kart online action anyday.
9. Television
I won't apologize; I'm an unabashed Star Trek fan. That's right Star Wars, you can suck it. I grew up with Next Generation, became plastered to my TV with Deep Space Nine, got scared of ginormous boobs with Voyager, and slowly began losing interest with Enterprise. But that's merely freed up time to watch other great shows like Futurama, the Office, Arrested Development, 30 Rock and 24. And yes, I also get a guilty pleasure from watching Idol.
10. Music
Speaking of Idol, I can't sing (at least I don't think I can -- I've never tried Karaoke before), but I can play a mean piano. And by mean, I mean the piano will sound mean because my stubby fingers will often strike the wrong keys, but on a good day I can pretend to do a damn good job! I even gave an impromptu concert at a New Orleans hotel... until management stopped me, saying I was waking up too many people. (Who doesn't like 'Still Rock & Roll to Me' at 1:00am?) Sadly when it comes to real professional concerts, my attendance list is low: Garbage, Coldplay, Jimmy Eat World, and I suppose you could count Ben Folds Five at college. I love most types of music, but I guess I'm picky about who I see live. Absolutely no rap or country though!
11. Money
I make a decent dime at my current employment, though I know down the road I'm capable of doing and making much more. Guess I didn't hit my goal of being a millionaire by 25, but that would probably have required some smart financial planning on my part. (Let's just say I could barely stay awake during my finance classes, and paid for a good chunk of my early skydiving with college loans. Hey, the interest rates are low!). On the plus side, I'm proud I'm not paying any interest on credit cards, I don't nor won't rely on anyone else to help me out, and doing my taxes is practically a snap every year. Who knows? Maybe my MBA will pay off someday.
12. Sleep
Sleep? What's that? I'm lucky if I get about 5-6 hours every night, though I tend to recover on weekends -- who doesn't like sleeping in until noon? I'm definitely NOT a morning person. I'm still on the college schedule of staying up late, I actually think I'm more productive then!
13. Reading
I read a lot. Constantly. But rare is the instance where I pick up a novel or some other work of fiction -- in fact, the last time that occurred was last year, when I read all the Harry Potter books from start to finish. No, my time is spent vigorously scouring the Internet for news. I've become addicted to twitter recently, as it's providing me with interesting articles I'd otherwise not know about. And not a day goes by when I don't refresh the Drudge Report about a dozen times. When there's not a screen in front of me I tend to pick up various magazines, and I have a strange addiction for Cedar Point ride manuals.
14. Communication
I'm not a fan of the phone. I look at it this way; if you're standing next to me, I'm there and you have my full attention, I can't really do much else. If I'm chatting on IM, I'm largely able to attend to numerous other tasks. But if I'm on the cell, I feel like I should be doing other things, but I can't. (Though I suppose I don't mind talking on the phone while driving.) Besides, I'm more a fan of the written word anyways; I wrote for the weekly newspaper/magazine in college, and would give anything to go back to those days. Now I constantly fault myself for not blogging religiously. But why is it preferable for me to put words to paper (or screen)? Positive reinforcement. Growing up, I was at or around the top of the class -- one of those nerdy kids who always raised his hands to answer a question; you can imagine how popular that made me. Combine that with an environment at home where what I had to say never really mattered, and it suddenly became easier to just stay quiet and never say anything. While I've improved over the years, it's tough to recover when you're confident nobody cares to hear you talk.
15. Visual Effects
I design websites, which is funny because early in my college career (started in computer science, if you can believe) I had zero interest in the field; I figured it was changing too much and too quickly, I didn't think I wanted to put up with it. So then I made a couple sites and damn it, turns out I'm halfway good at it. Ta da! Here I am. But it wasn't always supposed to work out that way. For the longest time my hope was to work in the visual effects industry, primarily doing vfx for films. Dream job was to work at ILM (Industrial Light and Magic - Star Wars, Jurassic Park, Transformers, hundreds of others) but alas, that would appear to have fallen through the cracks. Right around the time I was completing my undergrad in Info. Technology, I applied for two grad programs -- the MBA and 3D computer animation. Even put together a pretty good portfolio, IMHO (including a freshman year video editing project that became a vfx project where I blew up my school in the vein of Independence Day). But I was, as described, "local." In other words, I wasn't foreign, rich, and not needing financial aid. And so, that dream pretty much died that day. Did visit the ILM campus once though... very cool.
16. Legos
I look back at my childhood with not much fondness, however when I was around four or five I received my first Lego set, and that jump-started a wonderful chapter of my life. Addicted to the town sets primarily, I would build everything I had according to the manuals... leave that up for a while... and then promptly tear down and build stuff completely of my own design. Lego mansions. Lego starship enterprises. Lego amusement parks. Then after a while I'd get bored, build the original stuff again, rinse and repeat. I suppose I can credit them with helping me follow directions in order to get a job done, but even more so with launching my imagination and creativity.
17. Work Ethic
Besides imagination and creativity, I'll tack on a third dimension -- determination. The drive to get a job done, and (in most cases) to exceed expectations and try to reach perfection. When something big is at stake, that's my work ethic. I'm incredibly ambitious, I love a good challenge, and will seek out and internalize competition in order to keep at the top of my game. In high school I wanted to be at the top of my class, though I settled for having superior SAT scores. At my school magazine I wanted to write some damn good editorials, and I feel some turned out brilliant. In my current job, I've long wanted cedarpoint.com to have more noteworthy content and be easier to use than Disney. Whether those are true or false is not the point; it's that those are the standards I set for myself, and I need to be continuously challenged to keep going. In the end, I'm not even looking for fame or glory, I'm comfortable being a behind-the-scenes kinda guy (though a bit of the limelight is nice every so often). What matters is the end result, and I want to be proud of what I do.
18. Politics
And now to share something nobody knows -- I've thought a bit about entering the political arena. Maybe some local position to test the waters. Not sure if my personality is hardened enough to pass muster, but it would help fulfill my desire to do some good for the surrounding community. Call me an idealist, call me stupid -- but I do still firmly believe that there are politicians out there who mean well, aren't self-serving, and are capable of making smart decisions. Part of the reason I voted for Obama, even though I initially supported Hillary -- I find him genuine, and I see facets of what I perceive good leadership to be in him. To be fair, I didn't necessarily find McCain too off-putting either initially, though his later strategies and particularly VP choice only reinforced failed past tactics. Would I vote Republican? Of course! I've chosen many on local ballots. Despite hating our modern definitions we've assigned to labels, I suppose I best characterize myself as socially leaning very liberal/progressive, while falling somewhere centrist on fiscal policies. Still, the best candidate for the job is the best candidate for the job, period -- I don't need a party affiliation to tell me how to cast a ballot.
19. Religion
Now from one divisive trait to another... I hate the church. A rather bold statement, but they hate me, right? No no no, they say they don't, they're full of love and compassion and Jesus loves me and all my sins can be forgiven. Right? Next minute decry from the pulpit that I'm no better than dogs and I'm going to hell, oh, and can we get our money now? I was raised going to Catholic school through 8th grade, then continued on to get my confirmation afterwards. It's difficult to realize you're being brainwashed at the time, but looking back as well as reading about practices now -- the amount of hypocrisy is overwhelming. Where is this infinite love for each other? What happened to 'do unto others as you would have them do unto you'? Instead, the church is condemning, encouraging of spite, and the "morals" they preach are laughable. I'm aware not every denomination is like this, yet many are and will likely become forgotten relics without change. Whether you believe in a God or not is irrelevant here -- I don't, though I believe in *something* -- rather, it's how followers worship and treat others that requires explanation.
20. Children
Some days I find myself asking who in their right mind wants to bring a new life into the world we live in. It's not for me. Not at this time, anyway. Now my lifestyle largely precludes children anyway, but hypothetically speaking... I just can't see it happening. Maybe if they could pop out fully grown? I never inherited the gene that finds all babies cute. Most of the time when at movies, restaurants, or anywhere else in public I find young children to be out of control and annoying. Who wants to deal with that? Then, there are those rare moments when it's quite obvious the parents did a fantastic job; the kids are well-behaved, friendly, kind -- and dare I say it -- adorable. So for now, there are too many negatives, too few incentives for me to raise a child. I'd probably do better starting a teaching career anyways. But I'll keep my options open...
21. Family
I suspect there's another reason I'm hesitant to start a family -- I never felt like mine was satisfactorily started. Dad left when I was six, never to be seen again; I can't even spell his last name from memory. Leads me to occasionally wonder how much family I have there -- any surviving grandparents? Half brothers or sisters? I'm clueless. Even on my mother's side, it's largely just her and a close aunt who I ever talk to. I haven't spoken with any cousins or other aunts or uncles since my grandfather passed away about eight years ago. Throw in the reality that nearly every holiday my small family has spent together eventually disintegrates into a stressful fury of anger and shouting matches, it may suddenly make sense that "family" is a four-letter word to me.
22. Suicide
I won't mince words; over the years, particularly around the teenage ones, I've seriously contemplated taking my life. Nor will I lie and say that those urges have completely stopped, though luckily they're now few and far between. I hated childhood, growing up different, always giving those around me an arsenal of ways to chop me down. It's a cycle that progresses to isolation, fear, and depression -- particularly when you haven't developed the skills yet to defend oneself or just plain integrate well into simple social norms. Throw in constant pressure to succeed as well as a desire to simply fit in and be a kid for once (along with too many other things to list here)... there comes a point when you think another day just like this one isn't worth it anymore. For some reason, I've never made the final decision, and I'm grateful that I haven't. Life has gotten better -- not perfect, but better -- and I'm not the person I was before. Still, too many kids -- kids with promise -- can't take one more day. I can empathize and in a strange way I hope they found their peace, but that only reinforces the need for us as a society to make tomorrow worth reaching.
23. Homosexuality
I'm out, I'm proud, and I have no problem flaunting it -- if it'll make for a good Facebook picture. But getting here certainly wasn't easy. Take two somewhat serious girlfriends I had over the years, while being totally confused the whole time about why nothing ever felt quite right. Having thoughts in the back of my head that I dare not speak of or act upon. "What's wrong with me?" I would ask. Even throughout college, I couldn't even bring myself to the realization that I might in fact be gay. How could I? Mom kept talking about having grandchildren, skydiving was a very macho sport that didn't cater well to that lifestyle, and I was so involved on campus and intent on keeping the status quo I pushed my personal life aside. It took an acquaintance -- when I was 24 -- to finally ask me some pointed questions that finally allowed me to realize aspects of myself I fought so hard to hide. The turning point I think came in 2006 when, believe it or not, a group of gay skydivers congregated in Montreal to jump and celebrate our niche community. Since then I've felt almost like a new person, the person I should've been all these years. "Everything," in fact, kind of fell together; without going into too much detail, it was the first time in as long as I could remember when I fell asleep both content and with a smile on my face.
24. Appearances
There's no such thing as "normal," but there are norms. Everyone strives to be independent, but even the most unusual are still stereotypically unusual. All my life I've struggled to fit in, to feel accepted -- and coming out of the closet hasn't made that any simpler. It's practically a whole new culture to assimilate into -- new activities, new fashions, new vocabulary and even new ways of saying those words. It might be selling out, or it might be redefining oneself. Is it losing one's individuality, or am I becoming the individual I always meant to be? For years I've worn pathetic outfits, done little to better this average body, and at times have had a face only a mother could love. But I want to live the nice lifestyle -- I want to wear nice clothes, work out and have a nice body, drive a nice car, travel to nice places. Selfish? A little. Conformist? Probably. But... if it makes me happy, then -- like Sheryl Crow once said -- "it can't be that bad."
25. Love
The last one. The biggie. The one I can't help but be most introspective about, as I have yet to define it, realize it, demand it, anything love. "All you need is love..." / "... love is just a game." Is there someone out there for me? Sure, I bet. As mentioned before I had two girlfriends, and since then two boyfriends. Obviously nothing has worked out so far, but they were learning experiences and I've learned from my mistakes. So why am I still single? I'm picky, for one. Second, experience has weighed slightly more on the side of disappointment than happiness. Third, I'm picky. And fourth, if I don't know exactly what my long-term plans are, do I want to necessarily get into a relationship and face the decision of companion vs. career? At the moment, I'm having fun being single, and I'm fine living independently. Yet, I can't help but occasionally want someone to cook for me (or for me to cook for him -- bravery required!), cuddle on the couch, and simply spend time with. And sex. Sex is important. So yes... someday, I'll find him. Someday I'll get that fairy-tale (pun intended) wedding. And someday, I'll live happily ever after, having realized that not only am I capable of, but I am experiencing, this so-called thing love.
Ok, so enough of these '25 things' have gone around on Facebook that they need no further explanation. I tend to ignore the surveys and fill-in-the-blank questionnaires, but this presented an opportunity. For you -- a chance to learn a couple new things about my life and experiences. For me -- it was a bit of a cathartic exercise, trying to characterize myself and my feelings. I make no apologies for its length, tone, or content; no one is forcing you to read, but if you choose to, grab some coffee and get comfortable -- this could get intimate.
2. Pets
We'll start off easy. My main companion at home is a brown, loppy eared rabbit named Lola (run!). A little over 3 1/2 years old, she's full of energy, acts like a dog at times, and would nibble my fingers until there's nothing left. Besides her I've somehow managed to keep my one fish and a handful of plants alive. In the not-so-alive-anymore column though is Trixie, the dog we had when I was in grade/high school; a schnauzer-something mix, she loved rawhides and being left alone. But every morning she'd jump up and curl at the edge of my bed before I got up for school. Being there and watching her be put down was the worst feeling in the world.
3. Living Locations
Ok, perhaps that was a bit too emotional to start. How about where I've lived? After popping out in Buffalo and living there for about 11 years on the east side (till the neighborhood went bad... getting burglarized will do that to 'ya), I moved out to Cheektowaga, the next suburb over. Between 4th grade and right after HS graduation, I moved again not once but twice to other apartments in the town... silly landlords. Finally had a place/dorm of my own when I headed off to RIT in Rochester, NY freshman year. When we all got kicked out to let next year's class in, I picked up some roomies and landed a very nice apartment -- which would become home for the next five years (the longest span of residency since my childhood). Flash forward past graduation to the move to Brunswick, OH. Had a tiny apartment with no furniture; seriously, I slept on an air mattress all year. Same town but switched apartments the next year, and then a year later moved a town closer to where I worked (affordable Medina). Can I see myself living here forever? Hell no. I need warmth. Sun. Things to do! I'd love to live in NYC for a year, maybe San Fran for a while, same with Phoenix. Who knows if I'll ever own a house?
4. Travel
Never took a family vacation growing up, so I'm making up for lost time now. I love to travel. Road trips? Check. Take a plane? Turn up the turbulence! And not one to rest on my laurels -- the vast majority of my "vacations" are hardly relaxing at all; I'm usually awake longer, am more active, and I tend to need a few days to recuperate afterwards. Oh, and I also tend to take pictures. LOTS of pictures. You may have seen a few on Facebook. Anyways, at last count I've rolled through about 40 states and two Canadian provinces. Would love to get a passport and travel internationally -- New Zealand / Australia is at the top of my list -- but I better start saving. Regardless of where I'm going though, my travels typically revolve around one or two things:
5. Roller Coasters
Who would've thunk that the pansy-ass kid who was scared of roller coasters and even deathly more afraid of going upside down would later turn into a total coaster junkie? Don't ask how it happened, but since then I've visited over 50 amusement parks and ridden nearly 400 coasters across the continent. Besides, it makes me feel like a kid again. Not to feel left out, my adult side got in on the act by getting hired as a web designer; duties including making and maintaining the Cedar Point website. Some days can get incredibly monotonous, while on others I'm able to accomplish some really cool stuff. For the record, Superman at Six Flags: New England is perfection.
6. Skydiving
Continuing with the thrill-seeking persona nobody saw coming, I made my first skydive when I was 18 and was hooked right then and there. Took a while before I had enough cash to get through student training, but in practically no time I was falling on my head at 240mph, doing multiple plane formation dives, and (about 800+ jumps later) having more fun in the sky than I ever could on terra firma. It's not for everyone, but it is for me -- and I'm upset I haven't been jumping as much lately. Blame the economy, blame the dropzone, blame what you will... at some point the flame will be rekindled, I'll brush up on those rusty skills, and I hope to finally even start instructing for real (I guess psuedo-coaching doesn't count now). Do I see BASE jumping in my future too? Perhaps... I mean, I've also bungee jumped out of a helicopter, what do I have to fear?
7. Sports
It's amusing how extreme sports excite me, but run-of-the-mill competitive sports tend to leave me yawning. Closest I got to fan participation was watching some hockey games at RIT. I enjoyed it from the bleachers, until one day a poorly-aimed slapshot nailed a puck right at my head. Luckily there was no drain bamage. Prior to, gym class was even worse; I was terrible at softball, wretched at touch football, and utterly pathetic at ultimate frisbee. Ultimate frisbee! Knew what I was doing in dodgeball though (I dodged that motherfuckin' ball!). Eventually I somehow got a bit respectable at volleyball, soccer, and floor hockey -- good defenseman -- but I'll definitely shy away from any competition today.
8. Video Games
So what did I do when every other cool kid in school was playing sports, partying, or getting laid? Why I immersed myself in video games of course! (But only after my homework was done.) From classic Super Mario to even more classic Super Mario World, I rocked the shit out of my NES and SNES. Fell in love with RPGs, especially the Final Fantasy series (oh Locke and Celes, I miss you guys). Then, I got to college, and I practically quit cold turkey. Maybe I got preoccupied. Or just afraid of the PlayStation. Either way, I've missed out on FPSs, MMORPGs, and even Super Mario Galaxy. But I have bought a wii, so challenge me to some Mario Kart online action anyday.
9. Television
I won't apologize; I'm an unabashed Star Trek fan. That's right Star Wars, you can suck it. I grew up with Next Generation, became plastered to my TV with Deep Space Nine, got scared of ginormous boobs with Voyager, and slowly began losing interest with Enterprise. But that's merely freed up time to watch other great shows like Futurama, the Office, Arrested Development, 30 Rock and 24. And yes, I also get a guilty pleasure from watching Idol.
10. Music
Speaking of Idol, I can't sing (at least I don't think I can -- I've never tried Karaoke before), but I can play a mean piano. And by mean, I mean the piano will sound mean because my stubby fingers will often strike the wrong keys, but on a good day I can pretend to do a damn good job! I even gave an impromptu concert at a New Orleans hotel... until management stopped me, saying I was waking up too many people. (Who doesn't like 'Still Rock & Roll to Me' at 1:00am?) Sadly when it comes to real professional concerts, my attendance list is low: Garbage, Coldplay, Jimmy Eat World, and I suppose you could count Ben Folds Five at college. I love most types of music, but I guess I'm picky about who I see live. Absolutely no rap or country though!
11. Money
I make a decent dime at my current employment, though I know down the road I'm capable of doing and making much more. Guess I didn't hit my goal of being a millionaire by 25, but that would probably have required some smart financial planning on my part. (Let's just say I could barely stay awake during my finance classes, and paid for a good chunk of my early skydiving with college loans. Hey, the interest rates are low!). On the plus side, I'm proud I'm not paying any interest on credit cards, I don't nor won't rely on anyone else to help me out, and doing my taxes is practically a snap every year. Who knows? Maybe my MBA will pay off someday.
12. Sleep
Sleep? What's that? I'm lucky if I get about 5-6 hours every night, though I tend to recover on weekends -- who doesn't like sleeping in until noon? I'm definitely NOT a morning person. I'm still on the college schedule of staying up late, I actually think I'm more productive then!
13. Reading
I read a lot. Constantly. But rare is the instance where I pick up a novel or some other work of fiction -- in fact, the last time that occurred was last year, when I read all the Harry Potter books from start to finish. No, my time is spent vigorously scouring the Internet for news. I've become addicted to twitter recently, as it's providing me with interesting articles I'd otherwise not know about. And not a day goes by when I don't refresh the Drudge Report about a dozen times. When there's not a screen in front of me I tend to pick up various magazines, and I have a strange addiction for Cedar Point ride manuals.
14. Communication
I'm not a fan of the phone. I look at it this way; if you're standing next to me, I'm there and you have my full attention, I can't really do much else. If I'm chatting on IM, I'm largely able to attend to numerous other tasks. But if I'm on the cell, I feel like I should be doing other things, but I can't. (Though I suppose I don't mind talking on the phone while driving.) Besides, I'm more a fan of the written word anyways; I wrote for the weekly newspaper/magazine in college, and would give anything to go back to those days. Now I constantly fault myself for not blogging religiously. But why is it preferable for me to put words to paper (or screen)? Positive reinforcement. Growing up, I was at or around the top of the class -- one of those nerdy kids who always raised his hands to answer a question; you can imagine how popular that made me. Combine that with an environment at home where what I had to say never really mattered, and it suddenly became easier to just stay quiet and never say anything. While I've improved over the years, it's tough to recover when you're confident nobody cares to hear you talk.
15. Visual Effects
I design websites, which is funny because early in my college career (started in computer science, if you can believe) I had zero interest in the field; I figured it was changing too much and too quickly, I didn't think I wanted to put up with it. So then I made a couple sites and damn it, turns out I'm halfway good at it. Ta da! Here I am. But it wasn't always supposed to work out that way. For the longest time my hope was to work in the visual effects industry, primarily doing vfx for films. Dream job was to work at ILM (Industrial Light and Magic - Star Wars, Jurassic Park, Transformers, hundreds of others) but alas, that would appear to have fallen through the cracks. Right around the time I was completing my undergrad in Info. Technology, I applied for two grad programs -- the MBA and 3D computer animation. Even put together a pretty good portfolio, IMHO (including a freshman year video editing project that became a vfx project where I blew up my school in the vein of Independence Day). But I was, as described, "local." In other words, I wasn't foreign, rich, and not needing financial aid. And so, that dream pretty much died that day. Did visit the ILM campus once though... very cool.
16. Legos
I look back at my childhood with not much fondness, however when I was around four or five I received my first Lego set, and that jump-started a wonderful chapter of my life. Addicted to the town sets primarily, I would build everything I had according to the manuals... leave that up for a while... and then promptly tear down and build stuff completely of my own design. Lego mansions. Lego starship enterprises. Lego amusement parks. Then after a while I'd get bored, build the original stuff again, rinse and repeat. I suppose I can credit them with helping me follow directions in order to get a job done, but even more so with launching my imagination and creativity.
17. Work Ethic
Besides imagination and creativity, I'll tack on a third dimension -- determination. The drive to get a job done, and (in most cases) to exceed expectations and try to reach perfection. When something big is at stake, that's my work ethic. I'm incredibly ambitious, I love a good challenge, and will seek out and internalize competition in order to keep at the top of my game. In high school I wanted to be at the top of my class, though I settled for having superior SAT scores. At my school magazine I wanted to write some damn good editorials, and I feel some turned out brilliant. In my current job, I've long wanted cedarpoint.com to have more noteworthy content and be easier to use than Disney. Whether those are true or false is not the point; it's that those are the standards I set for myself, and I need to be continuously challenged to keep going. In the end, I'm not even looking for fame or glory, I'm comfortable being a behind-the-scenes kinda guy (though a bit of the limelight is nice every so often). What matters is the end result, and I want to be proud of what I do.
18. Politics
And now to share something nobody knows -- I've thought a bit about entering the political arena. Maybe some local position to test the waters. Not sure if my personality is hardened enough to pass muster, but it would help fulfill my desire to do some good for the surrounding community. Call me an idealist, call me stupid -- but I do still firmly believe that there are politicians out there who mean well, aren't self-serving, and are capable of making smart decisions. Part of the reason I voted for Obama, even though I initially supported Hillary -- I find him genuine, and I see facets of what I perceive good leadership to be in him. To be fair, I didn't necessarily find McCain too off-putting either initially, though his later strategies and particularly VP choice only reinforced failed past tactics. Would I vote Republican? Of course! I've chosen many on local ballots. Despite hating our modern definitions we've assigned to labels, I suppose I best characterize myself as socially leaning very liberal/progressive, while falling somewhere centrist on fiscal policies. Still, the best candidate for the job is the best candidate for the job, period -- I don't need a party affiliation to tell me how to cast a ballot.
19. Religion
Now from one divisive trait to another... I hate the church. A rather bold statement, but they hate me, right? No no no, they say they don't, they're full of love and compassion and Jesus loves me and all my sins can be forgiven. Right? Next minute decry from the pulpit that I'm no better than dogs and I'm going to hell, oh, and can we get our money now? I was raised going to Catholic school through 8th grade, then continued on to get my confirmation afterwards. It's difficult to realize you're being brainwashed at the time, but looking back as well as reading about practices now -- the amount of hypocrisy is overwhelming. Where is this infinite love for each other? What happened to 'do unto others as you would have them do unto you'? Instead, the church is condemning, encouraging of spite, and the "morals" they preach are laughable. I'm aware not every denomination is like this, yet many are and will likely become forgotten relics without change. Whether you believe in a God or not is irrelevant here -- I don't, though I believe in *something* -- rather, it's how followers worship and treat others that requires explanation.
20. Children
Some days I find myself asking who in their right mind wants to bring a new life into the world we live in. It's not for me. Not at this time, anyway. Now my lifestyle largely precludes children anyway, but hypothetically speaking... I just can't see it happening. Maybe if they could pop out fully grown? I never inherited the gene that finds all babies cute. Most of the time when at movies, restaurants, or anywhere else in public I find young children to be out of control and annoying. Who wants to deal with that? Then, there are those rare moments when it's quite obvious the parents did a fantastic job; the kids are well-behaved, friendly, kind -- and dare I say it -- adorable. So for now, there are too many negatives, too few incentives for me to raise a child. I'd probably do better starting a teaching career anyways. But I'll keep my options open...
21. Family
I suspect there's another reason I'm hesitant to start a family -- I never felt like mine was satisfactorily started. Dad left when I was six, never to be seen again; I can't even spell his last name from memory. Leads me to occasionally wonder how much family I have there -- any surviving grandparents? Half brothers or sisters? I'm clueless. Even on my mother's side, it's largely just her and a close aunt who I ever talk to. I haven't spoken with any cousins or other aunts or uncles since my grandfather passed away about eight years ago. Throw in the reality that nearly every holiday my small family has spent together eventually disintegrates into a stressful fury of anger and shouting matches, it may suddenly make sense that "family" is a four-letter word to me.
22. Suicide
I won't mince words; over the years, particularly around the teenage ones, I've seriously contemplated taking my life. Nor will I lie and say that those urges have completely stopped, though luckily they're now few and far between. I hated childhood, growing up different, always giving those around me an arsenal of ways to chop me down. It's a cycle that progresses to isolation, fear, and depression -- particularly when you haven't developed the skills yet to defend oneself or just plain integrate well into simple social norms. Throw in constant pressure to succeed as well as a desire to simply fit in and be a kid for once (along with too many other things to list here)... there comes a point when you think another day just like this one isn't worth it anymore. For some reason, I've never made the final decision, and I'm grateful that I haven't. Life has gotten better -- not perfect, but better -- and I'm not the person I was before. Still, too many kids -- kids with promise -- can't take one more day. I can empathize and in a strange way I hope they found their peace, but that only reinforces the need for us as a society to make tomorrow worth reaching.
23. Homosexuality
I'm out, I'm proud, and I have no problem flaunting it -- if it'll make for a good Facebook picture. But getting here certainly wasn't easy. Take two somewhat serious girlfriends I had over the years, while being totally confused the whole time about why nothing ever felt quite right. Having thoughts in the back of my head that I dare not speak of or act upon. "What's wrong with me?" I would ask. Even throughout college, I couldn't even bring myself to the realization that I might in fact be gay. How could I? Mom kept talking about having grandchildren, skydiving was a very macho sport that didn't cater well to that lifestyle, and I was so involved on campus and intent on keeping the status quo I pushed my personal life aside. It took an acquaintance -- when I was 24 -- to finally ask me some pointed questions that finally allowed me to realize aspects of myself I fought so hard to hide. The turning point I think came in 2006 when, believe it or not, a group of gay skydivers congregated in Montreal to jump and celebrate our niche community. Since then I've felt almost like a new person, the person I should've been all these years. "Everything," in fact, kind of fell together; without going into too much detail, it was the first time in as long as I could remember when I fell asleep both content and with a smile on my face.
24. Appearances
There's no such thing as "normal," but there are norms. Everyone strives to be independent, but even the most unusual are still stereotypically unusual. All my life I've struggled to fit in, to feel accepted -- and coming out of the closet hasn't made that any simpler. It's practically a whole new culture to assimilate into -- new activities, new fashions, new vocabulary and even new ways of saying those words. It might be selling out, or it might be redefining oneself. Is it losing one's individuality, or am I becoming the individual I always meant to be? For years I've worn pathetic outfits, done little to better this average body, and at times have had a face only a mother could love. But I want to live the nice lifestyle -- I want to wear nice clothes, work out and have a nice body, drive a nice car, travel to nice places. Selfish? A little. Conformist? Probably. But... if it makes me happy, then -- like Sheryl Crow once said -- "it can't be that bad."
25. Love
The last one. The biggie. The one I can't help but be most introspective about, as I have yet to define it, realize it, demand it, anything love. "All you need is love..." / "... love is just a game." Is there someone out there for me? Sure, I bet. As mentioned before I had two girlfriends, and since then two boyfriends. Obviously nothing has worked out so far, but they were learning experiences and I've learned from my mistakes. So why am I still single? I'm picky, for one. Second, experience has weighed slightly more on the side of disappointment than happiness. Third, I'm picky. And fourth, if I don't know exactly what my long-term plans are, do I want to necessarily get into a relationship and face the decision of companion vs. career? At the moment, I'm having fun being single, and I'm fine living independently. Yet, I can't help but occasionally want someone to cook for me (or for me to cook for him -- bravery required!), cuddle on the couch, and simply spend time with. And sex. Sex is important. So yes... someday, I'll find him. Someday I'll get that fairy-tale (pun intended) wedding. And someday, I'll live happily ever after, having realized that not only am I capable of, but I am experiencing, this so-called thing love.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Rats.
It's been a month without an update. I need to get back to that.
And clean the apartment.
And start working out.
Maybe go tanning.
Do taxes much?
Paperwork is piling up.
Sigh... I either need a ghostwriter, or a ghost-cleaner-workouter-tanner-taxer-paperworker. I can't pay, but I'll write you a nice letter of recommendation.
Unless you're the ghostwriter, in which case you'll have to write that yourself, too.
And clean the apartment.
And start working out.
Maybe go tanning.
Do taxes much?
Paperwork is piling up.
Sigh... I either need a ghostwriter, or a ghost-cleaner-workouter-tanner-taxer-paperworker. I can't pay, but I'll write you a nice letter of recommendation.
Unless you're the ghostwriter, in which case you'll have to write that yourself, too.
Monday, December 29, 2008
On Vacation
As much as I love my iPhone, it doesn't quite make blogging simple, so aside from a few minor updates here and there, I doubt I'll be posting anything major until after I get back from Orlando. I only hope you can forgive me.
Missing some people...
Friday, December 26, 2008
And so this was Christmas...
I tried to stay in good spirits, I really did. But honestly, Christmas means practically nothing to me anymore. If anything, the holiday reeks of family issues, attempts to burden others with gifts, shitty weather, and did I mention family issues? Throw in the nice surprise of coming down with what I assume is Strep Throat (ruining whatever plans I may have had for the day, and possibly disrupting my departure for Orlando this weekend), and yeah... Christmas sucks.
Would have been nice to had opened up one present this holiday, but I'm over it. I spent it with Lola, we had some quality time together. Maybe one day when I'm in a committed relationship, I'll find some joy in the season again. Until then... bah humbug.
Oh yes, and I'm sick of the family issues. Treat me with respect, and you'll get it back with interest. Just because we're related by blood doesn't automatically give you a free pass.
Would have been nice to had opened up one present this holiday, but I'm over it. I spent it with Lola, we had some quality time together. Maybe one day when I'm in a committed relationship, I'll find some joy in the season again. Until then... bah humbug.
Oh yes, and I'm sick of the family issues. Treat me with respect, and you'll get it back with interest. Just because we're related by blood doesn't automatically give you a free pass.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Birthday Weekend / NYC - Part Quatro / Fin
Happy 28th me.
Already this trip was more fabulous than I could have predicted. While I suppose we could have tried to cram more in -- at the expense of sleep/sanity -- as far as bdays go this was already far exceeding most from years past. I just was unaware of how absolutely memorable the rest of the day would be.
My first clue should have been the unsettling feeling in my stomach when I woke up. I'll spare the details, but my initial reaction was that last night's dinner simply didn't agree with me. We get ready and down to the lobby with time to spare, unwilling to repeat yesterday's transportation debacle.
Two things on today's agenda -- the NBC Studios tour, followed by a 3-hour (free!) Circle-Line boat tour circling all of Manhattan. We take the subway back over to 30 Rock, though I was still unfamiliar with all of that particular station's 14 entrances/exits, and sure enough we missed the direct entrance into the center. As luck would have it though, we happened to walk right past the area outside the NBC News Studio where dozens of lunatics line up to hopefully glimpse a second of themselves on national TV. Hey, we can be those lunatics! Sure enough, there we were... a couple of bundled-up Mid-westerners gawking behind Kathie Lee Gifford's face. It's my 1.5 seconds of fame!
Next up is the Studios Tour. I had done it once, but I know they like to switch up the studios from time to time, so I was eager to see some variety. Previously I had seen the Dateline set and the Nightly News studio; this time it was the MSNBC news set, a different Nightly News studio, and the space where they shoot Late Night with Conan O'Brien (yes!). Oh, and we got to see Studio 8H again, but weren't allowed inside (boo!).
So things were going great... until we entered a tiny room to watch some short footage about makeup artists. And that's when it all started to hit... my body temperature rose sharply, nausea began to quickly set in, I think my stomach did a 360, and I did everything in my power to prevent myself from throwing up right there in that room. (Glad this didn't happen in Conan's studio... I may have ended up being the butt of a monologue joke.)
Immediately following the tour I spent some quality time in the Rock Center bathroom, no doubt cutting into the small window of time we had to cut across town and get to our boat. After a few minutes I felt better again, and off we went.
We darted across 49th, narrowly missing one subway train and forcing us to wait for another local (while three express went by). We get to 42nd and 7th, leaving us with no choice but to RUN across five avenues to get to 12th near the harbor. Completely out of breath and sweating profusely, we get our tickets literally a minute or two before the boat began its departure.
I had been on this boat once before, with Kristin, as we took a 2-hour sunset cruise down the Hudson and around lower Manhattan. Today would offer much better picture-taking (it's hard to keep the boat still at night) as well as views of parts of the city I had never seen before.
But I would not get to see the complete journey in its entirety. The first two hours were uneventful, in the sense that nothing unusual happened (the boat leaning sideways as everyone moved to one side to see the statue of liberty doesn't count). Then, all of a sudden, my stomach starts churning again. Body temperature rises. More nausea, and more intense. I politely excuse myself from Clint, and run down two flights of stairs to the lower deck where the bathroom is.
I guess I made it just in the nick of time, because it felt like I threw up half of the previous night's dinner.
About 10-15 minutes had passed before I could muster going back up. Clint was noticeably concerned, though I tried to assure him it once again had passed.
Until near the end of the boat ride, when I had to run downstairs yet again. Seriously... this is serious.
We made it back to the dock, regretfully rejected offers to take a limousine back to Penn Station, and hurried back to take one last train out of the city. I managed to make it all the way back to our hotel before repeating much of what I had done earlier. This would continue several times (practically every hour, almost) en route back home, as I had to stop and throw even more up. I've thrown up on birthdays before, but never this much! Major thanks to Clint -- bless his heart -- for taking on the driving responsibilities back home / putting up with the mess that I was.
After several excruciatingly long hours, we got back home safe and sound. I bid Clint goodnight, checked up on the bunny, and promptly retired to bed... with bucket close by.
Again, despite everything that happened today, I stayed in high spirits, knowing I couldn't have asked for a more better weekend. I spent time in my favorite city (and for longer than a couple hours, my usual duration!), hung out with awesome people, and got a hell of a lot of Happy Birthday texts and facebook messages. Here's to 28!
Already this trip was more fabulous than I could have predicted. While I suppose we could have tried to cram more in -- at the expense of sleep/sanity -- as far as bdays go this was already far exceeding most from years past. I just was unaware of how absolutely memorable the rest of the day would be.
My first clue should have been the unsettling feeling in my stomach when I woke up. I'll spare the details, but my initial reaction was that last night's dinner simply didn't agree with me. We get ready and down to the lobby with time to spare, unwilling to repeat yesterday's transportation debacle.
Two things on today's agenda -- the NBC Studios tour, followed by a 3-hour (free!) Circle-Line boat tour circling all of Manhattan. We take the subway back over to 30 Rock, though I was still unfamiliar with all of that particular station's 14 entrances/exits, and sure enough we missed the direct entrance into the center. As luck would have it though, we happened to walk right past the area outside the NBC News Studio where dozens of lunatics line up to hopefully glimpse a second of themselves on national TV. Hey, we can be those lunatics! Sure enough, there we were... a couple of bundled-up Mid-westerners gawking behind Kathie Lee Gifford's face. It's my 1.5 seconds of fame!
Next up is the Studios Tour. I had done it once, but I know they like to switch up the studios from time to time, so I was eager to see some variety. Previously I had seen the Dateline set and the Nightly News studio; this time it was the MSNBC news set, a different Nightly News studio, and the space where they shoot Late Night with Conan O'Brien (yes!). Oh, and we got to see Studio 8H again, but weren't allowed inside (boo!).
So things were going great... until we entered a tiny room to watch some short footage about makeup artists. And that's when it all started to hit... my body temperature rose sharply, nausea began to quickly set in, I think my stomach did a 360, and I did everything in my power to prevent myself from throwing up right there in that room. (Glad this didn't happen in Conan's studio... I may have ended up being the butt of a monologue joke.)
Immediately following the tour I spent some quality time in the Rock Center bathroom, no doubt cutting into the small window of time we had to cut across town and get to our boat. After a few minutes I felt better again, and off we went.
We darted across 49th, narrowly missing one subway train and forcing us to wait for another local (while three express went by). We get to 42nd and 7th, leaving us with no choice but to RUN across five avenues to get to 12th near the harbor. Completely out of breath and sweating profusely, we get our tickets literally a minute or two before the boat began its departure.
I had been on this boat once before, with Kristin, as we took a 2-hour sunset cruise down the Hudson and around lower Manhattan. Today would offer much better picture-taking (it's hard to keep the boat still at night) as well as views of parts of the city I had never seen before.
But I would not get to see the complete journey in its entirety. The first two hours were uneventful, in the sense that nothing unusual happened (the boat leaning sideways as everyone moved to one side to see the statue of liberty doesn't count). Then, all of a sudden, my stomach starts churning again. Body temperature rises. More nausea, and more intense. I politely excuse myself from Clint, and run down two flights of stairs to the lower deck where the bathroom is.
I guess I made it just in the nick of time, because it felt like I threw up half of the previous night's dinner.
About 10-15 minutes had passed before I could muster going back up. Clint was noticeably concerned, though I tried to assure him it once again had passed.
Until near the end of the boat ride, when I had to run downstairs yet again. Seriously... this is serious.
We made it back to the dock, regretfully rejected offers to take a limousine back to Penn Station, and hurried back to take one last train out of the city. I managed to make it all the way back to our hotel before repeating much of what I had done earlier. This would continue several times (practically every hour, almost) en route back home, as I had to stop and throw even more up. I've thrown up on birthdays before, but never this much! Major thanks to Clint -- bless his heart -- for taking on the driving responsibilities back home / putting up with the mess that I was.
After several excruciatingly long hours, we got back home safe and sound. I bid Clint goodnight, checked up on the bunny, and promptly retired to bed... with bucket close by.
Again, despite everything that happened today, I stayed in high spirits, knowing I couldn't have asked for a more better weekend. I spent time in my favorite city (and for longer than a couple hours, my usual duration!), hung out with awesome people, and got a hell of a lot of Happy Birthday texts and facebook messages. Here's to 28!
Birthday Weekend / NYC - Part Tres
Sunday morning was rough.
First, who knew that a full day of running around NYC could take so much out of you? We overslept by an hour, then by the time we got to the lobby we learned we had just missed the hourly shuttle to the train junction. "Oh, there'll be another in 15-20 minutes when he comes back," said the handsome yet tragically clueless desk clerk. We waited for the next hour in the lobby as Giants fans dressed only in Giants jerseys and Giants colors went in and out, completely oblivious to the realization that it was their actions, in fact, that caused the automatic revolving door to keep e-stopping.
Eventually we boarded the shuttle and made it to the Secaucus Train Junction; compared to the PATH system, one would think this particular stop was built exclusively for American monarchy. Double-decker trains? Friendly employees? Cleanliness?! Toto, we're not in Jersey City anymore.
We arrive at the underground clusterfuck known as Penn Station. Had I been more aware of my surroundings, I may have left a breadcrumb trail in which to follow back that evening. How silly of me!
But first things first -- get to Rockefeller Center so we can get our free admission to the tours offered there. Yes, for just $105 for 3-days, we got into those tours for free; the museums for free; a zillion other places for free. It's an amazing deal, especially if you cram a lot in. But back to the Rock; it turns out that getting both tours on the same day was unadvisable, so we took an afternoon time for the Rockefeller Center tour and a Monday morning spot for the NBC Studios tour. We then had some time free and our tummies were rumbling, so...
... Lunchtime it was! Once again, Urbanspoon did a terrible job of making recommendations; or perhaps I was just confused when $$ in Ohio most certainly didn't correlate with $$ in NYC. It soon turned to "that place! smells of food! we go to there now!" or something, and Ray's Pizza it was. It felt slightly franchise-y (it is) yet local enough to not feel like I traveled 500 miles to eat at a chain restaurant. But holy cow was the pizza good! Found yet another winner here.
From there we jaunted over to mid-midtown (25th street, to be precise) so we could partake in one of the city's other cultural gems: The Museum of Sex. Free with our pass, we were wholly unprepared for the triple gallery of animal sexual habits, human sexuality in the media, and gadgets and other sexual aids throughout history. But sure enough, there were petrified penises of all shapes and sizes, sculptures of deer mounting each other, stories about homosexual necrophiliac ducks, and who could forget the panda porn video? The visual fun certainly didn't end when in the next room, tabletop screens were looping the Paris Hilton sex video while other TVs were showing everything from nudist films to There's Something About Mary. Did I mention the gift shop? No? Well I guess you'll just have to visit there yourself!
Rush back up to 49th (today was all-subway, mind you) for our Rock tour. We meet up with our tour guide and about 20 or so others; we're given wireless receivers and headphones so we can listed to our guide amongst the crowds (a necessity, given the seemingly millions of people there that day to take pictures of themselves in front of a tree). We roamed the hallways of 30 Rock, learning about the art on the walls and the history of how the complex came to be. At other points, we cut across streets to buildings I never guessed were part of the Center, and later took shortcuts in the expansive (and warm!) concourse below ground level. So despite disapopintingly not getting to see Liz Lemon, Jack Donneghy or Tracy Jordan, I still felt more educated and enlightened afterwards.
Though the Empire State Building was on our radar, my brilliant plan to head up there late afternoon in order to catch sunset and follow up with the city at night was blown, as the tour had gone past five. Backup plan: let's go shopping! I wasn't planning to buy anything, but where else are you going to find so many flagship stores besides on fifth ave?
There were some familiar places -- Bloomingdales (ran into Zach from Cedar Point manning the watch booth) and THE Apple Store, all sleek and modern beneath a glass cube exterior. Then there were the unfamiliar. We perused the Louis Vuitton outlet; I was aghast at $600 plain polo shirts, but Clint was loving the $4k coat he tried on. I got yelled at for taking a photo inside Tiffany's, which didn't even bother listing prices. And somewhere in the middle of it all was the magical fantastical FAO Schwarz, which I had only seen in the movie Big but never visited. There it was, the Big Piano in all of its harmonic glory. Whereas Toys R' Us has an industrial, and dare I say Times Square manic-like feeling, FAO was cozy, warm, inviting. The kind of store one can get lost in without someone willing to pull you back out.
As the evening progressed, the shops began closing their doors -- it was time to move on. Next on the agenda, as alluded to earlier, was the Empire State Building. I mean, they're open until 2! Plenty of time, especially with the waits that place has. Well, apparently not on Sunday nights they don't. We snaked through a lengthy yet empty queue no doubt set up to hold a couple thousand visitors. Meanwhile the staff, who more or less outnumbered the tourists 2-to-1 and had noticeably little to do, felt obligated to yell and pester people. I even took a name, though I was too lazy to report him.
Unfortunately the observation deck left something to be desired as well. Half was closed off due to supposed high winds, while the entire interior was being remodeled and looked terrible. Luckily our NYC passes got us in for free, though I doubt everyone else got their trip for half off. Oh, and I may have been less than enthused that my camera battery had lost its charge too.
Given our luck in that building it should have occurred to us to skip the restaurant on the first floor, but it was already after 9, our stomachs were growling, and it didn't look half bad. Oops. We were seated at a tiny table sandwiched tightly between two other tables, we might as well have combined them all together. Our waiter apparently forgot he was in the service industry. And the food... well, the steak was ok, but I still think it may have played a role in the following day's misery.
As we walked back down 34th, we passed no fewer than about 30 police cars traveling in the opposite direction, each following another and all with their sirens blaring. Such a force would exceed that of most towns, but here they are, zipping by as if the Cloverfield Monster was spotted by the Brooklyn Bridge. Gotta love NY.
The day concludes underground, as we attempt to find our way back to the NJ Transit part of Penn Station. Oh how did we forget about the tiny staircase or the escalator tucked off to the side? Finally we found it (and with over a half hour to spare!) but after Clint nearly got hit with a lawsuit from a crazy nutjob (don't ask), we decided to go shopping one last time. And what better place than a subterranean K-Mart! Not knowing how many floors beneath ground level we were only made it even more surreal.
Back to the hotel for some much needed sleep. Only one day left in the city, I hope it's memorable...
First, who knew that a full day of running around NYC could take so much out of you? We overslept by an hour, then by the time we got to the lobby we learned we had just missed the hourly shuttle to the train junction. "Oh, there'll be another in 15-20 minutes when he comes back," said the handsome yet tragically clueless desk clerk. We waited for the next hour in the lobby as Giants fans dressed only in Giants jerseys and Giants colors went in and out, completely oblivious to the realization that it was their actions, in fact, that caused the automatic revolving door to keep e-stopping.
Eventually we boarded the shuttle and made it to the Secaucus Train Junction; compared to the PATH system, one would think this particular stop was built exclusively for American monarchy. Double-decker trains? Friendly employees? Cleanliness?! Toto, we're not in Jersey City anymore.
We arrive at the underground clusterfuck known as Penn Station. Had I been more aware of my surroundings, I may have left a breadcrumb trail in which to follow back that evening. How silly of me!
But first things first -- get to Rockefeller Center so we can get our free admission to the tours offered there. Yes, for just $105 for 3-days, we got into those tours for free; the museums for free; a zillion other places for free. It's an amazing deal, especially if you cram a lot in. But back to the Rock; it turns out that getting both tours on the same day was unadvisable, so we took an afternoon time for the Rockefeller Center tour and a Monday morning spot for the NBC Studios tour. We then had some time free and our tummies were rumbling, so...
... Lunchtime it was! Once again, Urbanspoon did a terrible job of making recommendations; or perhaps I was just confused when $$ in Ohio most certainly didn't correlate with $$ in NYC. It soon turned to "that place! smells of food! we go to there now!" or something, and Ray's Pizza it was. It felt slightly franchise-y (it is) yet local enough to not feel like I traveled 500 miles to eat at a chain restaurant. But holy cow was the pizza good! Found yet another winner here.
From there we jaunted over to mid-midtown (25th street, to be precise) so we could partake in one of the city's other cultural gems: The Museum of Sex. Free with our pass, we were wholly unprepared for the triple gallery of animal sexual habits, human sexuality in the media, and gadgets and other sexual aids throughout history. But sure enough, there were petrified penises of all shapes and sizes, sculptures of deer mounting each other, stories about homosexual necrophiliac ducks, and who could forget the panda porn video? The visual fun certainly didn't end when in the next room, tabletop screens were looping the Paris Hilton sex video while other TVs were showing everything from nudist films to There's Something About Mary. Did I mention the gift shop? No? Well I guess you'll just have to visit there yourself!
Rush back up to 49th (today was all-subway, mind you) for our Rock tour. We meet up with our tour guide and about 20 or so others; we're given wireless receivers and headphones so we can listed to our guide amongst the crowds (a necessity, given the seemingly millions of people there that day to take pictures of themselves in front of a tree). We roamed the hallways of 30 Rock, learning about the art on the walls and the history of how the complex came to be. At other points, we cut across streets to buildings I never guessed were part of the Center, and later took shortcuts in the expansive (and warm!) concourse below ground level. So despite disapopintingly not getting to see Liz Lemon, Jack Donneghy or Tracy Jordan, I still felt more educated and enlightened afterwards.
Though the Empire State Building was on our radar, my brilliant plan to head up there late afternoon in order to catch sunset and follow up with the city at night was blown, as the tour had gone past five. Backup plan: let's go shopping! I wasn't planning to buy anything, but where else are you going to find so many flagship stores besides on fifth ave?
There were some familiar places -- Bloomingdales (ran into Zach from Cedar Point manning the watch booth) and THE Apple Store, all sleek and modern beneath a glass cube exterior. Then there were the unfamiliar. We perused the Louis Vuitton outlet; I was aghast at $600 plain polo shirts, but Clint was loving the $4k coat he tried on. I got yelled at for taking a photo inside Tiffany's, which didn't even bother listing prices. And somewhere in the middle of it all was the magical fantastical FAO Schwarz, which I had only seen in the movie Big but never visited. There it was, the Big Piano in all of its harmonic glory. Whereas Toys R' Us has an industrial, and dare I say Times Square manic-like feeling, FAO was cozy, warm, inviting. The kind of store one can get lost in without someone willing to pull you back out.
As the evening progressed, the shops began closing their doors -- it was time to move on. Next on the agenda, as alluded to earlier, was the Empire State Building. I mean, they're open until 2! Plenty of time, especially with the waits that place has. Well, apparently not on Sunday nights they don't. We snaked through a lengthy yet empty queue no doubt set up to hold a couple thousand visitors. Meanwhile the staff, who more or less outnumbered the tourists 2-to-1 and had noticeably little to do, felt obligated to yell and pester people. I even took a name, though I was too lazy to report him.
Unfortunately the observation deck left something to be desired as well. Half was closed off due to supposed high winds, while the entire interior was being remodeled and looked terrible. Luckily our NYC passes got us in for free, though I doubt everyone else got their trip for half off. Oh, and I may have been less than enthused that my camera battery had lost its charge too.
Given our luck in that building it should have occurred to us to skip the restaurant on the first floor, but it was already after 9, our stomachs were growling, and it didn't look half bad. Oops. We were seated at a tiny table sandwiched tightly between two other tables, we might as well have combined them all together. Our waiter apparently forgot he was in the service industry. And the food... well, the steak was ok, but I still think it may have played a role in the following day's misery.
As we walked back down 34th, we passed no fewer than about 30 police cars traveling in the opposite direction, each following another and all with their sirens blaring. Such a force would exceed that of most towns, but here they are, zipping by as if the Cloverfield Monster was spotted by the Brooklyn Bridge. Gotta love NY.
The day concludes underground, as we attempt to find our way back to the NJ Transit part of Penn Station. Oh how did we forget about the tiny staircase or the escalator tucked off to the side? Finally we found it (and with over a half hour to spare!) but after Clint nearly got hit with a lawsuit from a crazy nutjob (don't ask), we decided to go shopping one last time. And what better place than a subterranean K-Mart! Not knowing how many floors beneath ground level we were only made it even more surreal.
Back to the hotel for some much needed sleep. Only one day left in the city, I hope it's memorable...
Birthday Weekend / NYC - Part Dos
Clint and I wake up, both exhausted, but realize that we can't pass up the unique opportunity to experience a Fuddrucker's breakfast.
Much to our chagrin, it was your typical hotel continental breakfast, just situated on the island normally reserved for soda fountains and condiments. I wanted the unlimited fries, dammit! Knowing that the workers were preparing for a much more delicious lunch made things all the more unbearable.
Outraged, not really, we left. To NYC! As anyone who has ever been to the region can attest, the highways and routes -- particularly within New Jersey -- are all masterfully laid out and easy to navigate. Right. Not even five minutes in, we manage to get lost; the next hour is spent looking out for big buildings in the distance so we can say "go that way!". Even the iPhone was confused.
Numerous bridges and exits and tolls and byways later, we get to Journal Square in Jersey City and take the lovely PATH train in to Midtown. We're also joined by old college pal and walking wikipedia (accuracy questionable) Ashish. Under the Hudson we go...
Clint and I's first thought upon exiting onto a Manhattan street? "If this were practically any other city, there'd be no one walking around right now." Not here. Good luck not getting trampled, for one. Luckily the street artists help add some magic to the atmosphere (or is that coming from the sewer?).
We WALK from 34th to Times Square. Nevermind that it feels like 10 degrees outside and there's an underground shuttle between the PATH and TS, Ashish says walking is good for you! And faster! Frankly, verification needed -- I want to question his sources.
Nonetheless, a couple of pit stops are made. Stopped inside the coolest Walgreen's ever, picked up our NYC passes at Planet Hollywood (a superb deal if you want to do the touristy thing; details later), and checked out the TKTS offerings... even though Clint and I already knew what we were seeing later that day :)
The topic of lunch reared its ugly head; I may have mentioned Mexican cuisine, and behold! Ashish knew a great restaurant in Hell's Kitchen. More bitter cold walking, and we arrive at this teeny-tiny little cavern run by... definite authentic Mexicans. Let's just say I felt out of place until I started injecting what little Spanish I remembered into my order. Quite a good burrito though! And then we got the Mexican equivalent of Chiclets. Muy bueno!
*Finally* took the subway to the upper east side to get to the Guggenheim. These all-day subway metrocards won't use themselves, you know! Pass our 58th or so Duane Ready so far today. Finally make it to the museum, which is quite an awe-inspiring work of architecture. So much in fact, that it tends to overshadow the actual art that's inside! In hindsight, while whisking through the museum was fun and all, I think a much more meaningful experience would be had by listening to the audio tour. We saw lots of photographs from a strange lesbian lady, and it would have helped to have known what she was thinking about when capturing her subjects.
Sadly, 6pm waits for no one, and around 5:15 we left so that Clint and I could make our 'show'. We were almost slowed down by Mr. Macho Intoxicado as we headed down to our station; he claims one of us bumped him on the stairs, then proceeded to yell at us and try to start a fight (in front of security, no less). After some dipolmacy, he shakes our hands and offers to buy our fares. Only in NY!
So the Lexington line does run southbound past 59th street though, which made me heavily question Ashish's logic of walking no fewer than EIGHT streets and SEVEN avenues to get to our destination on time. I imagine my frustration was becoming apparent. "NO I don't want to stop at FAO Schwarz! NO I don't want to stop at the Apple Store! Stop tempting me!" We ultimately arrive at the New World theatre will call office only three minutes prior to the published showtime. We leave Ashish to his own devices for an hour and a half, while we enjoy a mesmerizing performance of...
... "Naked Boys Singing!" Yes, it was a show that delivered upon everything it promised. Eight guys (of varying attractiveness, but none who were unattractive), all singing, dancing, and enjoying the company of each others'... full and complete nakedness. There weren't any Austin Powers-like props here to artfully hide the goods either; everyone in the audience saw more male nudity than probably anywhere in the world short of a bathhouse. The play itself was clever enough to distract us all from simply gawking, and the stage-trained performers were quite adept and capable when it came to the acting and singing parts. (Well, except for one, but his perfect, chiseled body more than made up for the handicap.) Sadly, as one might imagine, there was absolutely no picture taking allowed... until afterwards, when a $5 donation to AIDS research netted you a personal pic with four of the hottest guys in the show, shirtless. In hindsight, I do think I was dreaming all of this!
Too early for dinner but too late for many of the touristy places our NYC pass would get us into, we finally settled on heading back towards the Upper East Side/Central Park area in order to check out the Met, which would close at 9. History has gone prime time!
Reunited with Ashish, we make it to the museum with only about a half hour to explore; certainly we would only experience but a small percentage of the building tonight. Checked out some ancient Egyptian artifacts and caught a glimpse of our own American history before the ushers coordinated their "get the hell out!" procedure. Definitely need to go back.
By this point our tummies were rumbling, and snow had befallen the city. Quite pretty actually. After agreeing on Italian though not finding anything suitable near the museum, we trekked back (VIA SUBWAY) to Hells Kitchen. Ashish had eaten a couple times at a small eatery called Mangia y Bevi (Eat and Drink, in Italian, naturally); after a brief wait, we're seated in what could have easily turned out to be a nightmare -- four bachelorette parties going on simultaneously in this compact restaurant. Perhaps it was the good music, or all the Sangria, but I absolutely loved it! Food was top-notch as well. I probably will never return (something about wanting to try some of NY's other 9,000 or so restaurants whenever I visit), but I wholeheartedly recommend it to others. Just make sure they have a couple of parties booked when you go.
The night was still young, so a trip back to Times Square was in order. Who knows whether it was due to the Christmas season or just typical TS craziness, but we went shopping at Toys 'R Us circa midnight, and the place was still mobbed. For some reason, I always make it a point to stop in whenever I'm visiting the city; not a whole lot ever changes inside, but what they do have still leaves me awestruck.
Capping off the evening, we head to the Marriott Marquee eighth-floor lounge overlooking Times Square for some not-quite-inexpensive drinks and people-watching. Snagged a table right by the window and took tons of pictures of the neon city outside. I even find Vegas to be a distant second to the spectacle of TS at night.
A long day culminated in the desire to not hit any clubs or bars for fear of not waking up the next day. Take the PATH back to NJ, say my goodbyes to Ashish, and drive over to Secaucus to check in at the Sheraton.
Then, reality sets back in when we discover that our hotel is directly across the highway from Giants stadium, and Sunday's a home game. Tomorrow, our only challenge will be... to escape.
Much to our chagrin, it was your typical hotel continental breakfast, just situated on the island normally reserved for soda fountains and condiments. I wanted the unlimited fries, dammit! Knowing that the workers were preparing for a much more delicious lunch made things all the more unbearable.
Outraged, not really, we left. To NYC! As anyone who has ever been to the region can attest, the highways and routes -- particularly within New Jersey -- are all masterfully laid out and easy to navigate. Right. Not even five minutes in, we manage to get lost; the next hour is spent looking out for big buildings in the distance so we can say "go that way!". Even the iPhone was confused.
Numerous bridges and exits and tolls and byways later, we get to Journal Square in Jersey City and take the lovely PATH train in to Midtown. We're also joined by old college pal and walking wikipedia (accuracy questionable) Ashish. Under the Hudson we go...
Clint and I's first thought upon exiting onto a Manhattan street? "If this were practically any other city, there'd be no one walking around right now." Not here. Good luck not getting trampled, for one. Luckily the street artists help add some magic to the atmosphere (or is that coming from the sewer?).
We WALK from 34th to Times Square. Nevermind that it feels like 10 degrees outside and there's an underground shuttle between the PATH and TS, Ashish says walking is good for you! And faster! Frankly, verification needed -- I want to question his sources.
Nonetheless, a couple of pit stops are made. Stopped inside the coolest Walgreen's ever, picked up our NYC passes at Planet Hollywood (a superb deal if you want to do the touristy thing; details later), and checked out the TKTS offerings... even though Clint and I already knew what we were seeing later that day :)
The topic of lunch reared its ugly head; I may have mentioned Mexican cuisine, and behold! Ashish knew a great restaurant in Hell's Kitchen. More bitter cold walking, and we arrive at this teeny-tiny little cavern run by... definite authentic Mexicans. Let's just say I felt out of place until I started injecting what little Spanish I remembered into my order. Quite a good burrito though! And then we got the Mexican equivalent of Chiclets. Muy bueno!
*Finally* took the subway to the upper east side to get to the Guggenheim. These all-day subway metrocards won't use themselves, you know! Pass our 58th or so Duane Ready so far today. Finally make it to the museum, which is quite an awe-inspiring work of architecture. So much in fact, that it tends to overshadow the actual art that's inside! In hindsight, while whisking through the museum was fun and all, I think a much more meaningful experience would be had by listening to the audio tour. We saw lots of photographs from a strange lesbian lady, and it would have helped to have known what she was thinking about when capturing her subjects.
Sadly, 6pm waits for no one, and around 5:15 we left so that Clint and I could make our 'show'. We were almost slowed down by Mr. Macho Intoxicado as we headed down to our station; he claims one of us bumped him on the stairs, then proceeded to yell at us and try to start a fight (in front of security, no less). After some dipolmacy, he shakes our hands and offers to buy our fares. Only in NY!
So the Lexington line does run southbound past 59th street though, which made me heavily question Ashish's logic of walking no fewer than EIGHT streets and SEVEN avenues to get to our destination on time. I imagine my frustration was becoming apparent. "NO I don't want to stop at FAO Schwarz! NO I don't want to stop at the Apple Store! Stop tempting me!" We ultimately arrive at the New World theatre will call office only three minutes prior to the published showtime. We leave Ashish to his own devices for an hour and a half, while we enjoy a mesmerizing performance of...
... "Naked Boys Singing!" Yes, it was a show that delivered upon everything it promised. Eight guys (of varying attractiveness, but none who were unattractive), all singing, dancing, and enjoying the company of each others'... full and complete nakedness. There weren't any Austin Powers-like props here to artfully hide the goods either; everyone in the audience saw more male nudity than probably anywhere in the world short of a bathhouse. The play itself was clever enough to distract us all from simply gawking, and the stage-trained performers were quite adept and capable when it came to the acting and singing parts. (Well, except for one, but his perfect, chiseled body more than made up for the handicap.) Sadly, as one might imagine, there was absolutely no picture taking allowed... until afterwards, when a $5 donation to AIDS research netted you a personal pic with four of the hottest guys in the show, shirtless. In hindsight, I do think I was dreaming all of this!
Too early for dinner but too late for many of the touristy places our NYC pass would get us into, we finally settled on heading back towards the Upper East Side/Central Park area in order to check out the Met, which would close at 9. History has gone prime time!
Reunited with Ashish, we make it to the museum with only about a half hour to explore; certainly we would only experience but a small percentage of the building tonight. Checked out some ancient Egyptian artifacts and caught a glimpse of our own American history before the ushers coordinated their "get the hell out!" procedure. Definitely need to go back.
By this point our tummies were rumbling, and snow had befallen the city. Quite pretty actually. After agreeing on Italian though not finding anything suitable near the museum, we trekked back (VIA SUBWAY) to Hells Kitchen. Ashish had eaten a couple times at a small eatery called Mangia y Bevi (Eat and Drink, in Italian, naturally); after a brief wait, we're seated in what could have easily turned out to be a nightmare -- four bachelorette parties going on simultaneously in this compact restaurant. Perhaps it was the good music, or all the Sangria, but I absolutely loved it! Food was top-notch as well. I probably will never return (something about wanting to try some of NY's other 9,000 or so restaurants whenever I visit), but I wholeheartedly recommend it to others. Just make sure they have a couple of parties booked when you go.
The night was still young, so a trip back to Times Square was in order. Who knows whether it was due to the Christmas season or just typical TS craziness, but we went shopping at Toys 'R Us circa midnight, and the place was still mobbed. For some reason, I always make it a point to stop in whenever I'm visiting the city; not a whole lot ever changes inside, but what they do have still leaves me awestruck.
Capping off the evening, we head to the Marriott Marquee eighth-floor lounge overlooking Times Square for some not-quite-inexpensive drinks and people-watching. Snagged a table right by the window and took tons of pictures of the neon city outside. I even find Vegas to be a distant second to the spectacle of TS at night.
A long day culminated in the desire to not hit any clubs or bars for fear of not waking up the next day. Take the PATH back to NJ, say my goodbyes to Ashish, and drive over to Secaucus to check in at the Sheraton.
Then, reality sets back in when we discover that our hotel is directly across the highway from Giants stadium, and Sunday's a home game. Tomorrow, our only challenge will be... to escape.
Birthday Weekend / NYC - Part Uno
Ok, so I'm writing this perhaps somewhat untimely. A couple of weeks may have passed since the events discussed here took place, but with the holidays and getting sick and other random excuses preventing me from blogging about it, now seems like a perfect opportunity to catch up. So join me as I hit rewind...
It's the first week of December. I have thoughts in my head about doing something fun (gasp!) for my birthday, which aside from a few notable exceptions, have generally outright sucked balls. I mean that in the bad way. But what to do, where to go? I just got a free Southwest round-trip award, but it seemed like it'd be a waste. Plus, I enjoy the company of others every now and then, and no one would be able to fly somewhere on such short notice. So that left the road trip option. I eventually settled on NYC as the destination of choice, being my favorite city to visit and all. So half-expecting my string of bad birthday luck to continue, I asked my buddy Clint if he wanted to partake in said adventure, and to my surprise he said yes! This was three or so days prior to departure, leaving very little time for planning. Nothing like a bit of pressure...
So with plans calling for leaving Friday evening (sparing us from wasting the majority of Saturday driving), Thursday night was spent searching for hotels, deals, and such... with not a lot of success. Two hours of either of us searching online left us with nothing. Tired, we promised to do a bit more research the next day. Like we had a choice.
Friday rolls around. Clint suggests a Days Inn in Parsippany, NJ, about a half-hour outside the city. Much cheaper than anywhere near NY, allowing us to pay a bit more for something nicer the next two days. Finally, around 6-ish and sitting in my apartment ready to go, I Hotwire a seemingly nice Sheraton in Secaucus. Seems like a safe area, public transportation to the city seems readily available, and best of all it's not Newark.
Ideally Manhattan proper would have been lovely, but my budget just couldn't justify the exorbitant weekend rates. Someday...
So, we start packing up to leave and -- oh! quick aside. Kristin finally calls back (I only left about 5 messages) and I demand that her and Jess stop over quick so I can say my goodbyes. Not everyday my best friend leaves for Tennessee, ya know. We all have a quick chat, there are hugs a plenty, and we all go our long and separate ways.
Dinner at McDonald's ("num nums!") and we're off. The drive through Ohio was uneventful sans a scary encounter at the Love's truck stop in Y-town (when a big burly guy dressed in pink says that he really likes your shirt, it's time to stop fueling and go). Pennsyltucky had its scary moments -- namely presumably higher-altitude areas that received a good amount of snowfall. Sure enough, each time the roads were only bad for about a mile or two, and then it was perfectly clear again.
Cross into Jersey, get the car re-fueled (if I can't pump my own gas, I expect full service -- and you not asking if I want my windshield cleaned is NOT full service!) and make it to Parsippany around 2am. Check in to our gorgeous hotel (which was undergoing massive renovations), where we discover that the continental breakfast is at the Fuddrucker's the Days Inn shares a parking lot with.
I have a feeling that starting on that note, Saturday's going to be pretty interesting.
It's the first week of December. I have thoughts in my head about doing something fun (gasp!) for my birthday, which aside from a few notable exceptions, have generally outright sucked balls. I mean that in the bad way. But what to do, where to go? I just got a free Southwest round-trip award, but it seemed like it'd be a waste. Plus, I enjoy the company of others every now and then, and no one would be able to fly somewhere on such short notice. So that left the road trip option. I eventually settled on NYC as the destination of choice, being my favorite city to visit and all. So half-expecting my string of bad birthday luck to continue, I asked my buddy Clint if he wanted to partake in said adventure, and to my surprise he said yes! This was three or so days prior to departure, leaving very little time for planning. Nothing like a bit of pressure...
So with plans calling for leaving Friday evening (sparing us from wasting the majority of Saturday driving), Thursday night was spent searching for hotels, deals, and such... with not a lot of success. Two hours of either of us searching online left us with nothing. Tired, we promised to do a bit more research the next day. Like we had a choice.
Friday rolls around. Clint suggests a Days Inn in Parsippany, NJ, about a half-hour outside the city. Much cheaper than anywhere near NY, allowing us to pay a bit more for something nicer the next two days. Finally, around 6-ish and sitting in my apartment ready to go, I Hotwire a seemingly nice Sheraton in Secaucus. Seems like a safe area, public transportation to the city seems readily available, and best of all it's not Newark.
Ideally Manhattan proper would have been lovely, but my budget just couldn't justify the exorbitant weekend rates. Someday...
So, we start packing up to leave and -- oh! quick aside. Kristin finally calls back (I only left about 5 messages) and I demand that her and Jess stop over quick so I can say my goodbyes. Not everyday my best friend leaves for Tennessee, ya know. We all have a quick chat, there are hugs a plenty, and we all go our long and separate ways.
Dinner at McDonald's ("num nums!") and we're off. The drive through Ohio was uneventful sans a scary encounter at the Love's truck stop in Y-town (when a big burly guy dressed in pink says that he really likes your shirt, it's time to stop fueling and go). Pennsyltucky had its scary moments -- namely presumably higher-altitude areas that received a good amount of snowfall. Sure enough, each time the roads were only bad for about a mile or two, and then it was perfectly clear again.
Cross into Jersey, get the car re-fueled (if I can't pump my own gas, I expect full service -- and you not asking if I want my windshield cleaned is NOT full service!) and make it to Parsippany around 2am. Check in to our gorgeous hotel (which was undergoing massive renovations), where we discover that the continental breakfast is at the Fuddrucker's the Days Inn shares a parking lot with.
I have a feeling that starting on that note, Saturday's going to be pretty interesting.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Let's Try This Again.
After a few rough starts (did I really think a MySpace blog would last?), I think I'm really ready to start e-rambling again. Why would I do such a thing, you might ask? Well, I've asked myself that many a times, and despite the over abundance of other blogs from across the universe, I felt that every now and then there were thoughts, ideas, and experiences that needed to be scribed. Sure, I regularly update my Facebook status, but one-sentence reflections on life at the moment rarely beckon more than a passing glance. And yes, I essentially photo-blog my travels with massive photo updates, but what about all the events in between?
I subscribe to several friends' blogs because I want to hear what they have to say. With many of my friends having left or will be leaving for other parts of the country, I would hope that they would like to stay in touch by listening occasionally to what I have to say.
But perhaps one of the biggest reasons -- and the most vain -- is simply because I miss writing and having an audience. In college I wrote for the weekly magazine, and eventually had my own column in which to spill my words on whatever I wanted. I may never have several thousand readers again, but if I get just a handful to engage in some meaningful conversation, I'll consider this to be a success.
I subscribe to several friends' blogs because I want to hear what they have to say. With many of my friends having left or will be leaving for other parts of the country, I would hope that they would like to stay in touch by listening occasionally to what I have to say.
But perhaps one of the biggest reasons -- and the most vain -- is simply because I miss writing and having an audience. In college I wrote for the weekly magazine, and eventually had my own column in which to spill my words on whatever I wanted. I may never have several thousand readers again, but if I get just a handful to engage in some meaningful conversation, I'll consider this to be a success.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
