My Home

"...it just sort of happens one day and it's just gone. And you can never get it back. It's like you get homesick for a place that doesn't exist...I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place." Garden State
--

Maybe it was the finality of it all, our last Christmas in our house, the house I grew up in; maybe it was that my brother and his wife are going to have a baby and I'm going to be an aunt. maybe it was the fact that my dad allowed/asked someone else to do the dishes and as I stood there at the sink washing away lasagna noodles and salad dressing, I realized that you really do miss out on a lot of the action when you're the dad; maybe it was the comments my mother made about her mother. or her grandmother; or my dad laughing so hard he cried, which reminded us all of his mother. our beloved grandmother, who we all miss most at Christmastime; maybe it was because it was the first time in four years we were all together on Christmas, where one of us wasn't overseas fighting a "war" that shouldn't be, or in California with his in-laws, because last I checked we aren't old enough to have in-laws are we; maybe it was because for the first time ever in my life I left my house on Christmas day like my brothers used to do when I was little; maybe it was when I left my parents for bed and a quiet house; maybe it was because I have to work the day after the day after Christmas or because I spent the day after at Target and the mall with my sister-in-law shopping for maternity clothes, and clothes for my best friend's daughter who turns two in just a few days; maybe it was the air, still and crisp and clear revealing a universe of stars that the smutty NYC air masks; maybe it was the rain that came later, beating down on my skylights like pebbles; maybe it was a freshly cracked book that I already can't put down; or the solitude in my apartment when I arrived home; maybe it was the candle I lit to warm the air with hints of vanilla. or the hot shower I took where I wasn't afraid to sing really loud; or maybe it was when I folded my laundry and sat mystified by my hospital bills; maybe when I called home to say "I got home safely, talk to you soon" or when my brother pulled away and I pictured him and his wife watching me fumble to find my keys to get into my walk-up; maybe when I checked the mail and it fell out onto the floor in an awkward obtuse pile; maybe when I received my "own" Christmas cards from my cousins, brothers and friends; maybe when my parents said thank you for coming out and for such a special Christmas; maybe it was then that I realized I had somehow become a grown up. that this city is my home and my house is just a place I go to visit, and soon that house will just be a memory, part of the distant past.

maybe that was the moment I needed; the moment I had been waiting for; the moment I knew I could move forward with my very own life in partial clarity.

Old Man Winter Please Bring Me:

Continued off-the-wall days at work thanks to my new espresso addiction
Cobalt blue walls, orange accents
Duke in the Final Four; tickets to the Final Four (from my boss!); tickets to Spring Awakening
A black and white printed scarf, preferably handmade
A spin instructor certification card; a gig; 100 great playlists
More red days, more pink days, more pounds lost
Dodgeball Champions!
Another spa/massage day
Motivation to start training for the San Diego marathon
A birthday card from afar, a birthday card from my favorite
A call from my brother that says "We've been reassigned to Virginia!"
More design blogs than I can read, more inspiration than I can manage, ideas brimming at all hours of the morning
A cactus for my office window
A two-foot tall brushed metal letter "A"
Crisp. New. Black. Sharpies. Both fine and medium point.
A Birthday that comes and goes and doesn't matter but is fun as hell, regardless
ONE huge blizzard that dumps 4 feet of snow on Manhattan and then the next day it's 65 degrees and it all melts (aka a repeat of 2004) AND a trek to Central Park to photograph nature's stillness before it all turns to snirt

The Future of America

When I don't wear my iPod to work in the morning, which by the way is almost never, I usually remember about twenty seconds into the subway part of the commute just why it is that I wear it day in and day out almost without fail. Now that I finally sucked it up and bought the world's greatest headphones (after my 10th pair of Apple ones broke) I have no reason to skip wearing it, unless, like this morning the battery is completely DOA. Today's subway ride was complete with a car-full of elementary school students from the Bronx and here is some of the hilarity that ensued in the seven minutes that I shared a space with them. I also heard something almost as funny once I got on to 42nd Street.

Kid to teacher: Yo Mr. Spignelli, are you a polyglot?
Teacher: Um, I don't think so.
Kid laughing: You don't know what a polyglot is; you haven't seen that commercial for that dictionary; yo that shit is mad tight.
Teacher: I don't have a TV.
Kid in shock: How come you ain't got no TV, it's the greatest invention of this decade.
---
Me to kid: Where are you going on your field trip?
Kid: Um I don't know (shouting to teacher) Yo where we goin anyways?
Teacher: I told you when we got on the train.
Kid to friend: Yeah but it's not like I be listening.
Kid to me: We're going somewhere to look at some shit, it's probably old shit.
---
Salvation Army volunteer ringing his bell and talking into a microphone:
"For one dollar, the price of your morning coffee and your hamburger for lunch, you could help someone today."

One dollar! One dollar!! Last I checked the only thing you can get in this city for a buck is...um...wait, I can't think of anything; but it damn sure isn't a coffee AND a hamburger.

Key of F

I've sung karaoke all of two times in my entire life:
Once this past summer on a blind date, after we decided that 1 am was a good time to take shots and rock out to the hardest song ever in the history of the world to sing.

And

On Friday night at our office holiday party in Times Square after what seemed like twenty vodka on the rocks (oh and also, I never drink anything on the rocks but decided this was the night to start). At that same party I argued with my boss about something insane, he threatened to call my ex and instead called my better half and spoke to him to try to win his argument. We also made phone calls to the girl I replaced, who was, for the record, still at work because in CA, it was 3 in the afternoon! He fell down the stairs in front of our President and everyone is still talking about it. There's richer, much more crazy stories I could share, but I've learned my lesson from Dooce and am not going to say any more; I've got a dog to feed!

The moral of this half-ass story is: Karaoke is evil.

HR would so not approve

Once I discovered the glory of ordering whatever I wanted from the Office Max catalog and it magically appearing in my office the very next day, I ordered myself an over-the-door coat hook so I could stop using my windowsill as a place to hang err throw my coat. It was not until I actually received and tried to install the hanger above my door did I realize that our doors in this office are about nine times larger and taller than most regular doors. I had to get a chair to reach the top of the door and shortly thereafter realized that if I needed a chair just to hang the damn hook, that I was going to need some sort of ladder to hang up my coat everyday, and although they sell them in the catalog, I don't think admin would approve such a purchase.

The other day I was in my boss's office and I noticed he had a hook on the back of his door, one that blended in with the door and was of a normal human height, not the height of the giants who apparently built this office monstrosity. I asked him in complete disgust why he had a hook and I didn't and he said that I should have one too; had I looked? Then! Then I discovered that I had a hole for such a device, but no device in which to use. So I got my coworkers involved in operation help me find the "hook"...which was then [sort of] appropriately dubbed, [She] needs a shaft. She has a hole but no shaft! Later in the day someone found a hook in storage for the back of my door, and instead of handing it to me threw it at me from across the hallway and it rolled under the couch. After a few minutes of crawling around on the cold tile floor, they all came in to watch as I screwed the tiny piece of plastic into the back of my door. They giggled like teenage boys and make jokes about my new shaft and my hole, which then turned into jokes about other people needing to find a shaft, which quickly became jokes about...being gay. Yep, just another day in corporate America!

You May be Right, I may be Crazy

At my friends' Holiday dinner party Saturday night we had a discussion about married phrases, mostly song lyrics that stick in your head so much to the point where you can't possibly say one without the other. You know what I mean, like when someone says "how bizarre," and you just can't help but sing the next few lines, or more likely just bop your head and kind of hum that tricky beat because let's be serious here, nobody knows any of the words to that song except those two words: "how bizarre." Another prime example is "Ironic" because I swear every time in the last decade or so that I've said "Isn't that ironic," like when I was being totally serious and telling a story about something truly ironic, one of my friends just couldn't resist the temptation of "don't you think" and then launch into the chorus full of spoons, knives and rain on your wedding day. So while my friend was making dinner at said party, her apartment got really hot, so hot that I started to sweat. Finally I busted out a plea to open a door or a window or something because I was blazing, blazin' hip hop and R&B jams (but of course #11) Since apparently these friends had never been in my presence when I was blazin' I had to [try to] explain that although I am somewhat of a freak show, mostly it's in ways that you can't see or hear on a daily basis...with the exception of when I'm hot as hell!

Well now it's Monday and I'm back to work and to important deadlines. There was just some free food in the kitchen (the highlight of the day, for certain) and I had been between the kitchen at least 6 times heating up the food, forgetting my drink etc. That deadline is literally thirty minutes from now, and sure, I should be working and not blogging, but whatever, I got inspired to write. I was just about to dive into the salad when I realized I didn't have a fork. Since I had been to the kitchen and beyond 6 times already (and I'm on deadline) I figured I'd just look in my drawer full of goodies to forage for a fork. And wouldn't you know it, all I had was 10,000 spoons and a few knives.

On BIG Decisions

It's not that I'm scared, it's just that [it's] delicate.

It Only Took One

My professor said I had two choices: keep them or make art out of them. She told me her husband had gotten over 300 rejection letters before he was awarded his dream job. Being a crafty man, he burned them all and used the ashes to make a painting. Only having four, which at the time seemed like a million, it was still not nearly enough to make anything. I took the road less traveled and kept them. That was over three years ago. Seasons change, time passes and eventually the disappointment fades to gray...

Last night, I was cleaning off a bookshelf to make way for some pictures that I am having framed as part of my redecoration process. I took each thing off, and dusted off the three inches of dust that has accumulated since the year 2005, coincidently, the same time I put all that stuff on those shelves. I found mostly novels that I had forgotten to read and a slew of puppy pictures and lots of old notebooks from both college and graduate school. However, I also found my senior year college sketch book. At first I didn't think much of it and simply dusted it and put it on the pile of the other "crap" I had uncovered. A few minutes later, when the shelf was empty and the book was now lying on my bed, I felt like I was being called to read through it. I thought, if anything I might remember some of those great AH HA moments I had back in the day. I slowly thumbed through the pages and four sheets of folded paper fell out. I knew without looking what these were. I bent over and picked them up, taking the time to unfold each one carefully as to not tear or crumble their perfect preservation. Without reading much past the first line of each letter, I folded them back up and placed them into the spine of the book.

And then something odd happened...I smiled.

Keeping it Real

Last night while having Thanksgiving dinner with my girlfriends (which turned out to be more like a potluck dinner that so happened to fall the weekend before Thanksgiving) we were jokingly discussing things that we were thankful for, like your parents probably made you do when you were little, or more specifically, what my mom still makes us do but only after the 9th bottle of wine so that the only answer you can muster is...grapes. The most common answer among my friends was of course, family and friends, the equivalent of saying "thank you" when someone you don't love tells you they love you and you are left dumbfounded by their words and secretly wish you could make a phone call telepathically to your best friend in Boston and fill her in on all the drama that just transpired. It's the easy way out, if you will. But I think that's okay, sometimes. After all, thinking of things your thankful for is kind of hard thing to do because until you sit down to really, truly and earnestly think about it, usually those things that you are thankful for are the things you mostly take for granted. So without further ado, my 2007 list:

*The health of both myself and my loved ones. I have a grandfather who is 92 and two parents who, aside from a few aches and pains are in very good health. My health was what enabled me to cross the finish line.

*My job that even though at times I dislike, keeps a roof over my head and food in my belly. Having been to Africa earlier this year, I am also very thankful for all those other wonderful things we as Americans take for granted: food, electricity, access to education, running water, heat, clothing and unconditional love.

*Grad school may have been the worst two years of my life, but I am very very thankful for my advanced education and the opportunities I have seized because of it.

*Advanced medical technology and doctors that together, have allowed both of my friends who are battling cancer to live another day.

*Learning and recovering from my past mistakes, recognizing when something has taken its course, listening to my head and heart as separate entities.

*The last minute. The snooze button. Double-sided tape. Chapstick. Tylenol PM, blister band-aids, double knots, laughter.

I can't make this sh*t up; I'm good, but not that good

I work for the second largest cable company in the country. I spend most of my days designing stuff to promote our "high speed this or on demand that." And yet, I have internet in my office that is literally almost as slow as dial-up. No, seriously. It's about a millisecond faster. You can't even remember internet this slow. It's from the days when computers were not ubiquitous in every household in America; it's from before I was...born.

And. To top that off, it's not even OUR internet. We have our competitor's service. When our internet goes out for the twentieth time in one day, I am so glad I am not the person who has to make that call and explain to Time Warner Cable why we, in fact need them to come fix our internet.

Only the Half of It

I can
ID and recognize fonts anywhere especially on menus, determine the weight of paper by touching it, list all the state capitals, use every shortcut available especially in anything Adobe (on the contrary I cannot tell you where anything is located in a menu) daydream to the point of insanity, fantasy trip plan, spend an entire day at work having not done any actual work, eat the same thing for breakfast lunch and dinner, make one hell of a photo collage, envision lots of things I could never actually make, envy the hell out of the Print Design Annual and dream of one day making it, dream of working for Target, moving to Chicago and then Minneapolis or Berlin, count to ten in a lot of different languages, say "This is a gray bunny" in German, play the piano, the flute and once upon a time, the oboe, listen to the same song one-hundred or more times in a row, roll my tongue three times, worry about almost anything, read a book in one day, feel the titanium screw in my knee, find my way around a foreign city via pubic transportation, waste the entire morning in bed, never get sick of home renovation shows or reruns of Friends, spend three hours on the phone, laugh until my face hurts, cry until my jaw hurts, recover from a broken heart, finish what I started

I cannot
remember the last time I made my bed when I woke up, started work right at 9, got to work right at 9 or read Wired cover-to-cover before the next one arrived, drink whole milk even in coffee, see the point of decaff coffee, eat broccoli, stand the thought of touching chicken or read meat, properly use a ruler to measure anything, start my day without listening to NPR, get to work without my iPod, stand riding the subway at rush hour, write with blue ink, use Windows without getting annoyed, easily admit when I am wrong, say the word singlet, refrain from making up my own words, help but sing in the shower, often remember my own phone number, eat pizza for breakfast, fall out of love quickly, imagine leaving Manhattan, live in the suburbs, drive a minivan, play chess, laugh enough

Don't Speak

I'm going through another one of my phases where I can't handle listening to music with words. This usually happens once a year, but the last time I can remember it happening was when I was in grad school, the Fall of 2005. Let it be said that I cannot work, write a paper or design a logo without some sort of background noise, however I much prefer music to the TV because let's be serious if I even hear Chandler or Monica so much as sneeze, I drop everything and run to sit and obey all things related to those beloved characters. I do the same thing for Forrest, Zoolander and Office Space. I also don't have a TV in my room and haven't since college so the temptation is barely there, although, ever since downloading season 6 of Scrubs to iTunes, the temptation is a bit more palpable. Luckily, I finished that dumb school thing a long time ago and don't work from home. So yes, yes I must have noise and I rejoice daily in the fact that I now have my own office and can listen to music all day without having to wear headphones. Sometimes when I really need to focus, I turn it up super loud and close my door. But sometimes I just do that when I'm throwing a dance party.

The last time I went through this phase, this weird phase where music with words digs so deep under my skin I can almost feel it in my bone marrow, I discovered one of my current favorite bands. I remember where I was sitting, the time of day AND what I was working on when I discovered The Album Leaf and realized that it was, quite possibly, the best music I had [not] ever heard. Two of the songs from their album In a Safe Place top the 'most played' list in my library. I also love that This American Life uses it as transition music on an almost weekly basis.

Sometimes, these random phases that I go through can be quite amazingly productive and unveil great things. The time I went through my 'all I want to do is smoke pot' phase...not so much. It unveiled great things sure, but mostly just in my mind.

Good music is just waiting to be discovered....standby.

While I wasn't blogging this week I:

Finished the NYC marathon, freaked out about my time being 3 minutes slower than I thought, received the good news that the marathon timing system was flawed and in fact, my time was 3 minutes faster than what was published in the NY Times (that's right, this week my name was also in the NY Times) proudly wore my metal to work on Tuesday morning where all my coworkers made me feel like a celebrity

Woke up in quite literally the most amount of pain I've ever been in, got drunk at 1 in the afternoon on a Monday with my bestests, had lunch at an old favorite in the E Village, napped like a rockstar, took a whole lot of Advil and Tylenol PM, waddled like a penguin around my office, wore nothing but sneakers and baggy pants to work, went down the steps both in my building and to the 5 train backwards, asked for assistance when getting up from the sitting or squatting position on more than one occassion

Got a new blackberry, freaked out at "the T" for charing me $86 for 2 weeks of service, relished at being "IN" again, was perpetually annoyed by duplicated messages coming from "myself" to my pearl, convinced my better half to join facebook because he lost a bet (don't ever make a bet with me unless you plan to lose) started listening to Holiday music, threw a dance party in my office

Finally returned Borat, which, for the record I've had from Netflix since March (!), received a new movie that I have yet to watch but put on the docket for this weekend, went out for beers with my coworkers, learned that my boss is a dem but loves the MTA, battled about the war in Iraq and the '08 election, spent another crazy half hour trying to dodge traffic in midtown for a cab, got drunk off two beers because my tolerance is shot to hell

Ate a lot less carbs than last week, lost three pounds, worried less, slept less, ran less or...none at all, laughed more, smiled more, relaxed more...
returned to normal!

TwentySixPointTwo

There are so few times in my life that I have been this nervous, anxious, excited and eager to do something, to accomplish something and get something out of the way that I forgot how awful it is to literally not be capable of even thinking straight. Sitting here at work all day, confined to the chair and my desk feels like pure torture. My hands and feet are sweating, and I'm not even moving; my heart has been beating this fast since the alarm went off at 7:26 this morning. I've gotten e-mails and cards wishing me good luck from friends & family all around the country (and the world, actually.) This morning there were a slew of facebook messages, IMs and the occassional visitor dropping by my office to wish me well. I've rarely had such an outpouring of support from the people I love about some event taking place in my life; the last I can remember is "the breakup" of 2006. It is so true, so blindingly true, that everyone rallies around you in times of need and in times of crisis. So I wanted to take this time, in advance, before all is said and done and the gun goes off and the clock starts ticking, to say a big heartfelt thank you to everyone. Your support and your cheers, your homemade T-shirts, posters and banners, your well wishes, your talking me off cliff after cliff after cliff, your shared excitement and joy will get me to and across that finish line on Sunday and for that, for that I could never be more thankful...

Everyday Things that my Brain Can't Wrap Around

Why all pilots make announcements with so many damn pauses:
Ah folks....currently we're at our cruising altitude of uh 38,000 feet....uh......the weather is uh.....45 and sunny in New York uh....should have you at the gate about uh......twenty-five past the hour

Why some pilots decide that the middle of the night/flight is the appropriate time to announce that over the left wing you can see the _____ (Fill in the blanks with something you are always totally uninterested in seeing when you had just been sleeping)

Why train conductors insist on acting as if we still live in a time when the words ALL ABOARD are exciting and still talk in the same voice that conductors used in the 1940s. Look, taking the train sucks and most likely I'm not excited about where I'm going for this NJ Transit train certainly isn't taking me anywhere exciting, like across the country to California, which even still isn't that exciting, but would be more exciting than where this train is taking me.

Why there's never enough room on the 4 or 5 train. Why the MTA won't run more trains. Why the east side only has one train line.

Why one or both of the only two escalators in all of Grand Central are always out of commission, and more so, why everyone acts so annoyed. Yes, this escalator has now become stairs...you now have to use your legs, sorry for the inconvenience.

Why people think that pushing you to get to said escalators turned stairs makes them get there faster.

Why instead of replacing the locks to the building, my landlord tries to put on a quick fix day after day and yet, it continues to break (how shocking) and locks us INSIDE our own building.

How the department of sanitation has nothing better to do with their time, like I don't know, clean up this filthy city and collect trash, rather than root through trash left on the curb and ticket offenders, when, said offenders have no where else to store their trash other than on the curb because that same landlord who can't fix the locks right the first time also doesn't provide us anywhere to store the trash besides...on the curb.

Union Square

Random girl behind me in the never-ending line: "That would be so awesome if Colbert actually got elected president, he is running."

Trendy girl in front of her: "Yeah, I mean you can't really know any less about politics than our current president."

Gay bookstore sales guy giggling and jumping up-and-down on his chair: "Oh my God that was so totally perfect, thank you!!!"

Trendy girl [in her head] I was serious, you can't!

Rainy day pick-me-ups

• Colbert reading from his new book at B&N
• Lars and the Real Girl, Angelika, select theaters only
• M&Ms that melt in your hand
• laughing so hard my mascara runs
• knee high boots, leggings, cotton-knit dresses from American Apparel
• discounts and perks from my new job, holiday half days, planning every single day of every single possible vacation day next year (costa rica, paris for my bestest, turkey/prague and toronto)
• 120# velum
• the return of my most favorite TV show this Thursday night
• cupcakes in festive autumn colors
• mansions on the costa rica coast
• seeing my bestest in two weeks, the post-race celebration, the day-after girls day out/no work/no responsibilities
• having the entire month of November free to do whatever I want
• sleeping in, turning off the 6:16 running alarm, rolling over and not caring, napping for the sake of wasting time, movies on demand

On Blogging

People who blog for a living impress me, really they do. At first I thought blogging for a living was a sorry excuse for a career, almost like a get rich fast scheme, but that was before I really started blogging. This actually isn't my first attempt at a blog, I'll have you know. When I first moved to New York I was inundated with so many things at one time (living on my own and living alone until the boyfriend moved in a few months later, then trying to learn to live with said boyfriend, living in this great, big, giant, scary, dark city, starting grad school, adjusting to constant criticism, poverty etc etc) I started blogging as a way to clear my head and as a way to get my thoughts down on "paper." There would be times that I was riding the subway and get this really big "ah ha" idea about life that I just had to expand upon somewhere. A blog seemed like the best place to do that...at the time. Needless to say, that blog didn't last very long and has since been permanently deleted. This blog, the one you are reading now started from a much more simple idea and for a very very different reason, but that reason is mine and mine alone to know. Ask me again when I'm being paid to blog.

The point of all this rambling, I swear there is a point, is to say that I didn't understand blogging until I really started doing it, but it hit me just today, just right now as I was coming back from lunch thinking about what I was going to write that this blogging thing can sometimes actually be really...hard. It can be, and often is, an investment of both your time AND your emotions. I haven't written in a week, but I meant to do that. I couldn't feasibly come away from that post and write something the very next day, or even later in the week. Last week's post was probably the hardest post I've written to date. It literally took me several hours throughout the course of the day to complete, and several drafts at that. Being as that I don't do this for a living, and let's be serious, don't have that many readers, taking a week off in between posts seemed like the right thing to do, for me. I needed some time to let that post settle but more importantly, I needed to make sure I was going to be all right; the jury is still out on that one.

Worth It

Soldiers have their alive day.
Countries have their independence day.
Me, I have today.
---

September was sleepy, blurred together by early nights and often painful morning runs or equally painful weekend long runs, too much pasta and not enough beer, too many band aids, too many braces and ice packs, too many miles and too many playlists. And finally at the end of the month, a departure from my normal routine and here I awoke, in the midst of something quiet and unexpected. It's taken me more time than I would have figured to get to this point, more time than seemingly necessary to evolve and come out of this dark and endless tunnel, not only alive....but better, stronger (in every sense of the word), faster, newer...happier. If someone were to tell me that this is how it would pan out, I wouldn't have believed them. I couldn't have believed them. The way it was should have been the way it would always be. And for that moment, in that time, that was acceptable; that was what I knew; what I wanted, even. But at the end of the day, when the laces come untied and the blistered bleeding feet emerge, it is, in fact, exactly how it panned out. And while it may have taken me a hell of a lot longer than I ever could have imagined, it's not about my finishing time, I've said that before...it's about how I got to that finish line that matters most. No one thing or one person can tarnish or change that, for the journey on the way here, while lonely, dark and full of hills, I have to say, was worth enduring. I get to live the first day of the rest of my life however I so choose. And that in itself makes the long journey totally worth it.

Apples to Oranges

What I [want]
shoeless days, jeans everyday, not a care in the world, my old computer, new software, a bigger department, bring your dog to work day, never to see another powerpoint again in my life, a logo, a letterhead a "here design this" where and when they actually mean design, an iPod dock, people my age with purple hair and tattoos

What I [have]
Crystal light on the go in 4 flavors, filtered tap water, organic fair trade coffee, bootleg software, skim milk for coffee, foam soap, a folder with 1,000 fonts, a picture of my dog, black pants, black shoes, tasteful jewelry, no logo, no love

Not Unlike Costanza

I felt guilty blogging during my first week of work so I barely did it at all. Now, in my second week I've progressed to taking long(ish) lunches, coming in late, chatting on Meebo all day (since the real IM is blocked) and closing my office door to talk on the phone. I also listen to music sans headphones all day long (sometimes NPR) and rely the ol' standby apple H when my boss walks into my office because, even though I actually have work to do at this job, I never seem to be actually doing that work when he walks in. I usually seem to be reading Gothamist or Reddit or worse, shopping for new rain boots to replace the ones I have that leak. I've also already gotten in "trouble" for wearing jeans even though the other designers in the department wear them (they don't interact with the corporate honchos upstairs) like I sometimes do, and probably will have to when I'm ill-prepared wearing skinny jeans, ballet flats and a puffy blouse that needs ironing. I was also wearing gold hoop earings the size of tennis balls.

It's hard to sit here, so far away from my boss knowing that unlike at my old job where my boss could lean back and see what I was doing on my precious 30" monitor (so could anyone from outer space for that matter) I can see him coming. I have a five second warning-time to close all windows and maximize the Illustrator document like, uh huh, I've been working on this project for three hours now, and by hours I mean minutes. It's hard to not play brickbreaker on my blackberry, which by the by, is the single most addicting game ever (I'm quickly learning why they call it a crackberry) or watch a movie or hell, even episodes of Scrubs on my iPod. Sometimes, I want to read a book or the NY Times but mostly I've been tempted almost everyday to curl up under my kidney bean-shaped desk and take a 20 minute napper and dream of a better place.

In the Year 2000

A Windows XP Dell (complete with a CRT monitor weighing roughly 300 pounds) for the sole purpose of checking work-related e-mails. CRT monitor? Really? What year is this, 1990?

Adobe CS...the original. That's like so 2000.

F12 does nothing for I'm still using OS X 10.3.9. The key here is sans widgets. I cannot live without widgets. I just can't do it.

A trackball mouse, which, to be honest, I didn't even know they made anymore. Oh giant mouse that in totality is bigger than my head, what purpose do you serve? I alone keep Wacom tablets in business for every time I've started a new job (all two times) that is among my first demands. That and a computer that is of this decade. I don't think that's asking too much of a multi-billion dollar company...

I'm not an administrator on my own computer. I need "IT" to come and enter the password every time I need to do something. Yesterday I wanted to repair my permissions. No, illegal. Access denied. I think I finally called them enough times that they realized this girl must know what she's doing if we don't even know what repairing permissions means....so they sequestered admin privileges; damn it feels good to be a computer nerd ahem savvy user.

I can't break through the Instant Messenger firewall, I guess I'll stick with gChat, which, after using Adium for the last two years is like pulling my toenails out one-by-one.

Thinning the Field

This morning I ran 18 miles and I'm not gonna lie, it wasn't exactly the easiest thing I've ever done but thankfully I never reached a point where I didn't think I would finish. I felt confident and strong and this race helped to erase the negative energy still lurking from my horrible 16 mile run two weekends ago. Above all, this morning helped psych me up for the full marathon that is precisely one month from today. In fact, by this time next month, I will have hopefully crossed the finish line and put this whole thing behind me. But I digress...

This morning at 6:20 while I was walking the 15+ blocks to the starting line I casually said good morning to another runner (the only other person out at this ungodly hour) He commented on my all my gear (all being an iPod and a fuel belt) and asked why I look so worried for "it's only 18 miles." He then proceeded to announce that this year alone he had run 5 marathons on 5 continents; this man was the inspiration for this list for it's you oh bragging man, it's you who I could so do without:

• Bragging Man/Woman
  The man that, no matter how far the race is, uses the word "only" to describe it. This is the same man that likes to spill his race results for every race he has finished in the last calendar year, the races he still has to attend (I'm running this as a warm-up for the Ironman, a half in Hawaii next weekend etc) The man who literally says "I don't bother with marathons anymore, I only compete in races that are 50 miles are more." The man who says, well last weekend during the Erie marathon, it rained. At least today it's sunny. (See here he thinks he's being tricky and throwing a positive spin on the weather my way, but really what he's doing is saying Hey, by the by, I ran a marathon last weekend and today I'm running 18 miles. That's right, no week of rest of me) Right, because last time I checked running a marathon is like so much easier than walking to Lex to catch the subway. Bragging man, I hate you. You make me feel like a failure, you make me feel weak, you make me question why I think 18 miles is hella far, but above all, you make me feel as if I'm competing against you when really, I'm competing against myself and the clock.
  

• The early finisher who//Refuses to cheer//Stop running
  This person is almost always a man. He laps you on his way to the finish line. You seem him at mile 8 and you still have ten more. Everyone hates this man, it's not just me. However, what I hate about this man, besides his perfectly muscular legs and long, gliding stride is his inability to cheer for the rest of the field as he watches us struggle by him with two more entire laps of the course to complete. He stands without a bead of sweat on his body chewing his apple or banana, casually sipping water like it's a martini. Hey you! We all hate you! If you can't cheer, you could at least clap. Whistle. Something, anything will do here. Your standing there is not helping. If you're just going to stand there silently [gloating,] go home and take your ice bath!
  
  This same man sometimes decides that finishing a half marathon in the time it took me to run six miles is not enough, oh no, he needs to add on to his mileage for the day. But instead of continuing to run with the rest of the field, he runs towards the field as if to say, hey look at me as I pass you, yet again, this time going the opposite way. Look at me, I'm so great at this running stuff that 13.1 miles, yeah, not far enough...I'm tagging 10 miles on to the end of this race and will still! Be. Done! Before. You! Man who refuses to stop running, I hate you.
  

• Coughing man
  I have never ran with/next to/near a woman who does this. This man coughs every three seconds for the entire race. Not like oh I have a cold cough, oh no, this is just a hacking cough that refuses to stop. Coughing man, I cannot drown you out even with my iPod turned up to the loudest possible setting and humming along to myself. You make me wish I had wings so I could fly fifty feet ahead just so I wouldn't have to run next to you and your ill-productive cough that's more like clearing your throat. Look, I see you next to me. I hear you. I get it, we're running and you're coughing. You have my full attention.
  

• Sadly, this last and final person I honestly could do without, is usually a woman, in fact, I've never seen a man do it in all my races. This woman lines up at the front of the pack, with the said runners who will later be lapping us on their way to victory. She lines up with the 7 minute mile men and wonders why they are wearing shoes by Brooks or Saucony and hers are made by Keds or worse, Nike. The gun goes off and this woman starts walking. She doesn't realize that the thousands of runners behind her are going to have to weave around her, and so, instead of walking to one far side, she walks right down the center of the road as if to say, oh I'm sorry, is my walking getting the way of your running this race. Hey walking woman, they have a section for people walking, right under the sign labeled "12 Minute+ Walkers." It's a crazy esoteric idea, I admit. But, your lining up with the wrong mile grouping really annoys the rest of the field and if I see you on marathon day, I might have to get you with my taser gun that I'm investing in just for you, oh walking woman at the head of the pack, I loathe you.
  

It's the Final Countdown

Shopping with my soon-to-be "ex-boss" at the brand new H&M on 42nd Street for a new, first day at my new job outfit, drinking cosmos together after work, texting her later that night (while drunk) that boy do I have a story for her then spending the first twenty or so minutes of today spilling it like we're a pair of high school drama queens.

Taking a jell-o shot like I'm on Spring Break in Key West except this one was not off my best friend's chest.

Eating a cupcake out of a paper cup while dodging busses in the center of the streets in mid-town while trying to hail a cab uptown to continue the celebration at a bar where we sort of drink for free, talking to the cabbie who had no interest in us and was confused about Queens actually being a "part" of this great city, getting the inside scoop on the way uptown, remembering why I'm friends with these girls in the first place.

Being hungover at work and having nothing to do besides watch time tick by.

Will/Not Miss

The morning fashionista showdown at the elevators between the Martha, MK and Valentino employees.

Sample sales where and when no matter what you are doing, you quite literally drop everything and run for the 20th floor perhaps faster and with more urgency than if the fire alarms were going off

Eddie, the elevator security guard who, when told I was leaving was visibly saddened and demanded that I stop by to visit at least once a week

My 30 inch cinema screen and Mac Pro that is faster than any computer ever needs to be unless, of course, you're planning world domination

The outsourcing to an agency of almost, no wait, every single good project that comes down the pipe, never having a budget to do anything but house stock, house this, cheapest this, smallest that, always having to use specific pre-chosen colors and the "corporate fonts" which thank god futura is one of them

The 4:52 "I need this right away" e-mails that come in at least once a month on a Friday afternoon, waiting a week for copy or a phone number or an image that's always a lower dpi than any print designer could ever be expected to use, being told repeatedly that the printer can't open the file I sent over because they're still in CS (not even 2, just CS) that's so 2001.

Not having an IT department that can troubleshoot a Mac and having to wait sometimes weeks for an outside help guy to look at something gone crazy on my computer, waiting a full year to upgrade from a G4 that had so many problems there is literally not space in this blog in which to expand upon, a screen saver that would turn on whenever it wanted even IF I was working and an external CD burner that would open and close everyday at 11:14 on the dot.

Calling my boss "Bossy-O" and being bribed to do crappy projects in MS Word or Excel with chocolate and other such sweets, singing out loud, being told to shut off groove salad because it's too loud (ambient music, really too loud?) having talk like a Brit day only to be denied an entire day and get 5 minutes, NPR, one sentence e-mails back and forth to bossy-O all day long about everyone in the office and her very own top-secret life

Crumbs cupcakes everytime someone in our department has a Birthday

Arriving anywhere from 5-40 minutes late, never being reprimanded and spending my morning coffee-time talking weddings with my newly engaged friends

Spending thirty-forty minutes following my lunch "hour" writing this blog

The Crazy Dream that Wasn't

The 6:35 a.m. outgoing text message to my better half reads: "I just woke up on a jungle gym in the middle of queens." But let me start at the beginning...

* Chocolate soy milk and a banana on the couch while heating my shins....this all after my 3:46 alarm went off
* A yellow school bus ride to "couldn't locate it on the map if I tried/middle of nowhere/even the driver got lost Queens, stuck in front of the only two people on the entire bus that decicded 4 a.m. is the perfect time to share life stories of growing up in the UK and not say, catch an hour nap or sit in silence so the rest of us can sleep like the rest of the damn world (except perhaps in the UK where it actually IS of a normal waking time for a weekend)
* Arriving at the park by 5:20 and having over an hour to kill before the gun goes off
* Deciding that a red and blue jungle gym equipped with several slides, a rope bridge and monkey bars is the perfect place to have a nap. At this point it's still totally dark and there are stars in the sky. I still have no idea where I am in Queens. I fall asleep, dead asleep even though the people around us are laughing at the hilarity of our shared situations, my feet are hanging over the edge of the slide and there's a breeze that keeps my half-exposed feet and legs at a temperature slightly above frozen.
* Failing to wake up when my running partner's cell phone alarm beeps at 6:30.
* Standing in what seemed like a never-ending line to use the Port-o-Potties, still having to check baggage and hearing the starting gun go off while in line (and surprisingly not being stressed or annoyed or even anxious to sprint to the start and catch pace group)
* Enjoying my newly crafted playlist complete with songs that are best sung aloud even if the poor souls around me have to also hear it (hey, whatever helps me get to that finish line)
* Catching up to the Thai man who listens to Asian mediation music on a portable radio sans headphones and carries jingle bells in his hands while running, the same man who last week almost made me lose my cool around mile three....of sixteen
* Crossing the finish line ten measly seconds short of my last half marathon time
* Slipping into yet another deep sleep right after finishing the race like a cat sprawled out in the sun on the pavement, waking up to an empty park and hoping to still make the bus
* Finding out the this said bus has no driver
* Arriving back in Manhattan (at the time I would normally be waking up on a Sunday but today already having been awake for a full 9 hours) wondering if all of this really happened or if it was another one of my pre-race anxiety dreams where I somehow miss the finish line and lose my chip all while being chased by a man with a rifle through the canals in Venice.

Not Unlike The Grinch

Every once in awhile a memory, like a flash comes into my brain without an invitation. I am thinking about how I have to buy apples or milk when bam! just like that, the thought is there and I have to first acknowledge it and then really let it slip away, like water over a mossy river rock.

I had one of these thoughts today, and it was so melancholy and nostalgic, that for a moment, I thought I might cry....I thought I might break the vow I made to myself sometime back in February or early March when someone slipped and said girlfriend instead of just friends, and I cried so hard I thought my lungs might collapse. It was that same day where I was so tired from crying for so many days and so many years before that point, that the only sensible thing to do was to just never do it again. And so I vowed, that day, and each day since that I wouldn't ever allow myself to cry over him ever again. And until today, when I had this thought, when I could feel the suffocation coming, the tickle in the back of my throat, the wetness near the bottom of my lids, until today I've hardly ever had a reason to shed a tear, to let one or two escape. Ultimately though, realizing how strong you're capable of being, how capable you are of controlling your own emotions is an amazing feeling; it's as if someone took your blindfold off and there you stand, in the middle of Oz in vivid Technicolor.

There is a single white nail stuck in the corner of my living room near the ceiling. I tried to hang a string of lights last Christmas, or was it the Christmas before...regardless, I never actually got around to it. The lights were too heavy for these tiny nails and I surrendered to the task. So the nail stands. And tonight when I saw that nail, which I don't think I've noticed since maybe last January, all the sudden I had a tiny flash.

It's December. It's freezing both outside and inside my tiny Avenue A apartment. The bed is bigger than its allotted space and subsequently, in order to get into the bathroom, you have to wheel away the Ikea bedside table, which blocks the door. I am lying in bed under the covers undoubtedly in socks, a hooded gray Outer Banks sweatshirt and red, flannel snowflake pajama pants. "He" is still in the "living room" at the opposite end of our 250 square foot apartment watching Seinfeld, and when I ask him to come to bed he says something unmemorable. That year he strung lights in our kitchen, which was also the "hallway" between the bedroom and the living room. He strung them in such a way that each string dangled over its neighbor causing a tangled web of brilliant lights aglow. But these weren't just any lights; these were $7.99 K-Mart lights that twinkled...and I don't mean chased or blinked or dimmed from bright to not-so-bright, I mean actually twinkled, the way real stars do. When all the lights were off in the apartment and it was totally dark, these lights would twinkle so softly that it was like a magical snowstorm in the middle of our tiny illegally sub-let apartment. I would often just lie in bed and relish in the beauty of these lights. It was a simple joy in those not-so simple times. When "he" finally came to bed that night, he said something unmemorable but only after he stood by the plug and said "Say goodnight to the lights, darlin."

This memory is a few and far between moment where I admit I miss him. When I remember something so charming and adorable as the effort it took to hang those lights in our miserable apartment, the effort it took to keep me happy in that apartment, in that period of our miserable just-starting out in the city lives. But above all, it makes me miss the way he would sometimes say something so sincerely loving that I could almost feel his heart growing three times its size.

The Autumn List

Apple picking, apple cider, tiny pumpkins too small to carve, Corduroy in colors such as mustard, caramel and plum or wine

That oh-so-impossible to find right light jacket for the cool morning commute

A cell phone that actually works, a blackberry that I don't pay for, more minutes than I could ever use, choosing my so-called "faves"

bean-card redemption at Hale & Hearty

the screaming tea kettle reminding me to relax

An office door that closes, an iPod dock, a desk with lots of drawers and cabinents, a project that is mine and mine alone

Freshly packaged sharpies in too many colors to choose from, a crisp yellow legal pad, an empty documents folder, the authorization code to new software

Halloween come and gone without one person belittling me for both hating the holiday and refusing to dress up and walk around the night thereof

Thanksgiving in Paris

Wool socks, a stripped scarf, a new winter thermo-jacket possibly in brown to replace the one I've had since I moved to the city

Tickets to Costa Rica, a surfing lesson, a villa right on the beach

Another attempt at the Brooklyn gardens in time for the foliage, my camera armed with a gigantic new memory card

A party to raise money for the marathon, happy hour, drinking one last time before I surrender to the "good training Gods," the first beer after the long month is over

Visitors from Princeton and Atlantic City with signs and banners and bananas

Cracking a new book and finishing it the same day, finally after all these years breaking down and reading the Harry Potter books, thirst, laughter, knowledge

An 18 mile run that doesn't kill me, a long-awaited tapering session, carbo loading for an entire week, real soda, chocolate and pizza

Finding a new spin instructor whom I adore as much as Sara

Signing up to teach the class, getting certified, passing the test

New hilarious seasons of my favorite shows, DVR, free cable & internet

Crossing the finish line

Taking the entire month of November off from running, watching movies, going to movies, going out to bars again, having fun, laughing, staying out past my bedtime, drinking, sleeping peacefully through the night, Advil-less days and nights again, slowly returning to normalcy...

How I'm Spending my Last 2 Weeks

Follow along closely, this might not make sense: your patience is appreciated.

I need a name for my NEW iMac, why because I name my computers. See #50.
I want it to be something clever, not like Jack or Sue. That's a dumb name for something as fucking awesome as a new iMac made by my hero, the Jobster not to be confused with my real hero, Eric Gill (for President.)
Hmm, the last two names of my computers were inspired by a place (Africa and my new (and by new I mean 100 year old apartment in Alphabet City) but I haven't been anywhere cool in awhile besides Chicago and Lake Erie and Central Park like 5 times a week and no no those just won't do.
Well, she is pretty. I assume she's a she I don't know why.
Well she is pretty bright. I want something bright and cheery since it's such a joy to have a new computer that actually works but something bright since her screen is like the sun, shining into my bedroom, except at night, when I want to sleep. Seriously it's so bright.
Quick! thesaurus.com words for bright, no wait, better: bright in a different language, Russian! Ah ha perfect, except I don't remember the word for "bright" in Russian. Fuck. But ah yes but my translator widget does. Seriously, I love this thing. How did I live without it?
Hmm turns out the word for "bright" in Russian is yarko. That's kind of a good name. I like it. Yes yes yarko. Yarko, sto toi delish! Perfect. Done & Done.
Yarko, hmm sounds like that name from the Animaniacs cartoon. Wait, that's Yakko (after a quick google search in which my boss was standing directly behind me wondering what I was doing and now thinks I have lost my mind but really I've totally just lost ALL my patience for being chained to this desk in total, complete and utter just plain full out-boredom)
One thing leads to another and suddenly I'm bouncing up-and-down in my Herman Miller office chair and the rest of the day err week minds as well not exist because this, this is why I LOVE the internet!

All the Small Things

The Australian guy, who, after my 16 mile run, congratulated me and told me how proud I should be, who talked to me despite my tears and acted like [this is normal for this strange girl to be crying while talking to me], who told me he was impressed by me, and who shook my hand like a true champion....of which, I am not.

The very last minute shopping spree, Mexican dinner AND coffee break in midtown on Sunday night, chocolate anything, Bryant Park on a fall-ish evening, midtown at night (so much more enjoyable than during the day) the adorable gray jumper dress that I just can't wait to debut on my first day of my new job, tights, leggings and the color mustard

Turkey bacon, a coffee headache, my first beer in what felt like forever, toasting to 16 miles and other such accomplishments, over-the-jeans calf massages, meeting the new boyfriends, seeing how the other half lives (and by half I mean "upper west side")

Putting in my two weeks notice, telling them they can't match it, walking away confidently knowing that I did the right thing......and being able to float for the next 2 weeks

After the Bombs

My closest and perhaps only true "friend" from grad school just told me she and her fiancé are moving to California. Yeah, that big state on the opposite side of the country, she's just picking up and moving there. Well, not really, the guy got a great job opportunity, but still. I've not yet had a good friend from the city move away...it seems so grown-up.

My running partner announced on our morning jog that he's signed himself up for yet another marathon, which means he'll be running TWO between now and the ONE that I am running in November.

2 people have just announced that they are pregnant and neither of them has told but three or four other people yet...I'm a ticking time bomb.

My parents are moving to a townhouse; they are putting our house, the one I grew up in, on the market in just a few months.

I finally got an offer! My new job starts in two weeks and I haven't told the guy in charge that I'm leaving yet...

Multi-Tasking

Running 4 miles to the 59th street apple store (and back) to purchase a new arm band for my Nano because the one I have smells so bad it would gag a homeless man drenched in his own urine and beer, asking the cashier to throw out my stinky arm-band and getting a look of sheer disdain (you want ME to touch that?), promptly putting on the new one (up-side-down) according to this said cashier, running home through central park at night, alone, without a light or any reflective material whatsoever, not even on my shoes, running on a trail that I've never even seen before and thinking the entire time my mother would kill me if she knew what I was doing.

Note to self: invest in a reflective vest. 51 days left to go and it's not getting any less dark.

On [Traveling to Run] in Chicago

finishing my third half-marathon with my second best time

thousands of fans. my bib (12337) had my name on it

50% off running gear, no will-power, mom's credit card

another shot in two weeks, not quite as sore as I was the first two times, a stellar full-body massage (which might just be my new favorite hobby, if only they were free)

QT with my #1 fan, a sign made just for me

shopping the mag mile

a run with a spectacular view, the lake by my side

a room with an equally awesome view

$7 chocolate-chip-cookie dough cheesecake, guilt-free deep dish pizza

the view from the top, the sunset

room service, cliff bars delivered to my room, the US Open women's final

getting up before the sun two days in a row (oh wait that's not fun)

Not Today Not Ever

I'm not gonna lie and say it doesn't bother me or that I don't sometimes wish it had happened another way

I'm not gonna sit here and say that from time-to-time I don't still wonder what you're doing, where you are or why you picked her instead of me

I'm not gonna pout or mope or even shed a single tear

I'm not gonna look back in anger or even with a little spite, and I'm not gonna relish, I'm not gonna savor

I'm not gonna wonder [anymore] about what could should or would have been; I'm not gonna worry and I'm not gonna fear, or hope or wish or even daydream...

I'm not. I'm really not. I'm moving forward and moving on and on and on and while it still hurts a tiny little bit in a very distant unfamiliar way, I'm not. I'm really really not.

Ten Years Ago

It's been a decade since I had major knee reconstruction surgery. An entire decade. It's weird to think that I'm old enough to remember things in terms of decades or say "I remember when gas was 98 cents" but I can and I do. So while I sat on my couch last night watching the US Open and icing that said knee after a grueling spin class, I realized how much things have changed since ten years ago (obviously, I'm ten years older and not in high school, thank God) but I also realized how many simple things truly haven't...

• I still watch almost every broadcast match of the US Open
• I still confer with the same boy about the Open, the same boy who's now a grown man and dating my brother's [then] girlfriend, the same boy who at the time was my on-again-off-more than-not-again "boyfriend" for as much as that can truly mean when you are hardly a sophomore in high school
• My knee(s) still hurt; I still ice them; I still use frozen peas over real ice or an ice-pack
• I still miss my brother, who at the time of my surgery had just left for college halfway across the country in Colorado and now lives across the Atlantic Ocean in Italy
• My parents are still my #1 fans and supporters
• I'm still not exactly sure of where I'm going in life and how I'm going to get myself there (though I'm a helluva lot more sure than I was a decade ago)
• The end of summer/cooler evenings/darkness by 7:30 still makes me a tinge nervous and sad, even though I no longer have double sessions of tennis practice or the thought of school and homework to worry about, I just have the same ol' mediocre 9-5 existence to endure...the seasons may change but in my cube it's always florescent

The cheese stands alone

• björk in concert. sept 24. and i got tickets.

Turning Point

a better week of training, finally feeling fully-fueled, a new two-year lease thus solidifying my plans until 2009 (sigh, no chicago) leaving on a jet plane with 5 friends to head to the great lake, no work on monday, no rest for the wicked, the US open on tuesday night! chicago next weekend!

It Could be Sweet

It started off so grand, like the gleaming promise of a fresh new sketchbook, with a not-yet-cracked spine and its white pages begging for charcoal or lead or heck, even crayon to color them with creativity...And it ended with such a dull, soft surrender, like water lapping at the shoreline of a tiny, small pond overtaken by lily pads and weeds. Strangled. Suffocated.

There were banana splits at midnight. And a picnic in the park

There was a failed attempt at Romeo & Juliet tickets

The marathon rejection letter came, the disappointment followed

There was one Yankees game that was followed by 72 hours of sheer madness, the kind that makes you shake your head and say what in the f*ck just happened

There were.....a few 10 mile runs, a fantastic 12 mile run, two halves added to the calendar (one in Chicago the other in Queens) and then.....a week of terrible runs, cramps, new injuries, hope started fading; the finish line stopped being a reality and became a dream again

One wedding was in fact, drama free, and the best time I had all summer and the flights out to Denver were on-time and without delays

The new iMacs were launched, finally, and I have yet to get my hands on one...

The tickets for the US Open are for me and my friend (who is almost as obsessed with the open as I) to enjoy next Tuesday night, just a few days short of a date I want to forever forget...especially this year

There will be a Labor Day getaway to Lake Erie, there was a night of fondue followed by finishing an entire pitcher of some liquor concoction followed by...

There were shooting stars and one with a tail and lots of wishes made, which, for the record, any have yet to come true...

There were lots of other things, some of which I wish to block out, some of which I want to preserve in a tiny salt shaker to keep in my shirt pocket (so I can keep them near and dear to my heart forever), but so many of these moments have blurred together just like when you do 7 cartwheels in a row in the front yard on the first day of autumn...which is too soon to come

I honestly don't know which is harder

listening to my head knowing full well my heart is going to pay a price

listening to my heart and ignoring that voice in my head that says "this isn't right, it shouldn't be this hard, this isn't meant to be, move on etc etc etc" (shut up will you!) and then 6 years, 6 months, 6 weeks, 6 days later (hypothetically of course) i finally admit to myself that my head was right (again) and my heart is going to hurt, but not compared to how badly my mind and my character and my soul would ache for ignoring it a second, third or...fourth time

learning from the past to be able to make these decisions easier or faster or. sigh. at all.

realizing i've grown up even the smallest bit since college, since grad school, since last fall, since...last week

Snow, Paper, A GHOST

Rain rain go away / don't come back another day/
for it cold and it is gray/ and I am sad in so many ways

grapefruit moisturizer

thoughts of a warm bubble bath and hours to waste, a bed with blankets piled high, a remote to control the music streaming from iTunes and my soft, small puppy wedged by my side

the memory of rainbow striped toe socks that almost reached my knees, wishing i had those socks today

bubbles

dark chocolate M&Ms, raisins, marshmallows and pretzels all mixed into this special trail mix my mom made me in the fifth grade

that episode of Friends where Joey appears on $10,000 pyramid and Monica realizes that her brother was her "first kiss ever"

The Shins on repeat, The Garden State soundtrack, Imogen, Rocky, Pete

deciding what to do next fall and somehow knowing that it will work itself out...or at least hoping...

• move to Chicago
• go back to school
• stay put in my duplex on the east side

Looking Back

3,900 miles. 8 states. 3 airports. 48 hours.

fudge, chocolate chip cookies, pies, cakes, milkshakes; commence post-beach diet...now

new VZ sunglasses

channel 30, some new rockin tunes

my best friend is married and on her honeymoon down under; how jealous am I?

my cousin is married and no longer on her honeymoon since hurricane dean struck

black v-neck dresses, red daisies, white roses, avoiding awkward situations with past hook-ups, dancing the night away with no YMCA, swing dancing as if i knew how, on your mark get set go, let me go, let me shoop to the next man in the three-piece suit..."

a sky of endless shooting stars, a 6 a.m. thunderstorm, a weekend that felt like fall

outlet shopping with my "cousin"

2 hour late-night phone calls

red rocks/Colorado Rockies/endless blue sky

tears of joy. endless. tears of joy. falling into a comfortably numb state

two are engaged! one broke her leg! one moved to Missouri! one loves a brit!

driving into a sunset over the Delaware water gap, daily beach picture messages, daily beach naps, daily outdoor showers, daily jungle juice or vodka something or other

losing in beer pong to 2 not-yet college freshman

I'm leaving on a jet-plane, train and automobile

• the one time a year i eat fudge
• long runs on the beach after sunset
• my dad's famous "beach chicken" salad every night and iced tea
• breakfast is alway ready when i wake up
  
• reading all day and all night and never having to stop except to nap
• daily naps
  
• a bike with extra fat tires
  
• sand between my toes
• screen-in porches
• the outdoor shower
• seeing my two cousins, who aren't really my cousins but we call them that anyways because they come on vacation with us every year; they are younger than me and since i don't have younger siblings they are near and dear to my heart
• red gerber daisies
• my best friend! is getting married! on saturday!
• seeing all my friends esp a certain one from DC
• open bar for 6 hours
• getting all dolled up three days in a row
• picture madness
  
• chocolate colored hair again
  
• tears of joy
  
• flying to denver thus acquiring frequent flyer miles (so so close to a free ticket)
• my cousin! is getting married! on sunday! (after her, i'm the only single one left)
• 7 states in less than 24 hours
  
• string quartets
  
• salt water taffy
• John's chicken and emmm milkshakes
• Taboo, Train, Scattegories etc etc
• Happy Gilmore on repeat all week long
• The Lucky Duck gift shop
  
• goosebumps from getting too much sun
• Banana Boat SPF 15
• ocean kayaking
  
• 3 books, 10 days and nothing but time
• Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel
• satellite radio in dad's new ride
• the smell of bayberries on the boardwalk
• crashing waves, sand, umbrellas, sun, family and friends; what is better than this week?

The Summer Suck List

trying to poke holes in something otherwise perfect

over-analyzing

too much talk; not enough action

Con Ed, Time Warner, the MTA (all of whom have drastically f*ed something up this summer)

when the subways don't run because of a flood, an "investigation", a power outage specifically in my neighborhood, a track fire, etc etc etc

fever blisters that pop up days before your best friends wedding

realising your out of milk after you've put the berries and the protein into the blender

a cell phone that shuts off whenever it wants to; mid conversation, mid day, mid receiving text message. whenever it wants, for whatever reason; cell phones that try to do too much and end up not doing anything well like say, staying ON or lasting more than a day w/o charging; cell phones that cannot feasibly last 2 years with the "new every two"

how something that cannot even remotely be my fault somehow becomes my fault; how doing a favor for someone else somehow turns into something much bigger and worse than originally thought

trying to run when it's 90 plus˚

running 12 miles when it feels more like swimming (on the hottest and most humid day of the whole summer)

giving up every friday night to go to bed early so i can get up at the crack of dawn to run before it gets said hot

being as hungry as a horse everyday all day but never having any appetite (and craving only chocolate and tomatoes)

arguing about things that can't be solved with words; arguing about the past; trying to change the past; he said/she said conversations

Not Just Because it is Friday

labor day weekend with the girls on Lake Erie, just bought my ticket: yee haw Cleveland

friday night somewhere new. the museum. uptown. just the girls. just some drinks. ah summer.

Brooklyn Botanic Gardens

a 12 mile run, two new rocking CDs to keep me company, a new running partner, per usual brunch at our per usual spot with my better half and all day saturday with my boy

putting my 4 years of sorority membership to good use by making a killer sign for my two friends running the half on sunday

boycotting the half because it's sponsored by Nike

rumors of new iMacs hittin the world on tuesday, and yes, i'm first in line to get one; RIP powerbook G4

a raise that finally kicked in on Thursday's paycheck

a third interview. a third chance. a glimmer of hope still to shine.

my own office. with a door (and a view)

hearing the word perfect and something I designed in the same sentence for once, meeting a deadline weeks ahead of time, a 4-day week next week

How to so so so easily annoy me (Part II) or reasons why my kid will never own shoes with wheels

Let me set the mood: mid-town, sirens, summer, humid as hell, lunch-time crowds PLUS all out full-blown tourist season, students asking "do you have a minute to support gay rights, mother earth, Children of the Sudan" three lines spewing out the door for Jamba Juice, Chipolte and Cosi all converging on the corner of the shopping mecca of the universe:

Enter a girl age 7, possibly younger. Now que her to run directly into me.
She was wearing those dumb shoes that double as roller skates, shoes that should be illegal in mid-town. She was also playing hand-held Nintendo AND listening to an iPod! Talk about sensory overload. She of course didn't apologize and looked at me like it was I that was not paying attention while rolling down the sidewalk on shoes that have wheels, shoes that just shouldn't exist in the first place; like it was I that was playing Nintendo! in midtown! at lunch-hour! and it was I that, like, couldn't hear me say excuse me (because correct me if I'm wrong but like, shouldn't it have been you saying excuse me; I don't care if you are 7 girl, you just ran into me and you are lucky I chose Jamba Juice over soup today becasue otherwise you would be wearing my Cracked Corn Chowder instead of that dumb New York City Princess t-shirt ) where is your mother and where are your manners?

A Week of Heavy Lessons Learned

telling the truth seems so much easier than not and is ultimately so much more rewarding in the great scheme of it; that when you tell the truth, you have nothing to remember; that honesty is a great and necessary building block

that instead of being a reflection of your past or a product of your environment, you can be an evolution; that what once was is not, in fact, what will always be

recognizing the past for how it affects the present is a big adult step; that without all of our past mistakes we probably wouldn't be the same; that mistakes can make you beautiful and not just on the inside

what may seem "crazy" to other people can and may make total sense in your own head and sometimes, most times ...that's all that really matters; that too fast and too slow are all subjective; that there's no such thing as "perfect" but that it's possible to get pretty damn close

that it's okay to ask for help especially when the difference between asking and [not] could be the difference between living and [not]

that my body, knees and ankles will tell me when to stop way before my mind and heart ever will

old habits are very hard to break and new habits are equally easy to obtain

allowing yourself to be vulnerable can have astounding rewards

Oh so Simple

learning to say good morning in lots of languages and using them on my buddies in the morning

discovering that the standard translation widget to my surprise (!) gives you Russian phrases in the Cyrillic alphabet which can then be copied (and pasted) into IM windows and e-mails (челка)

wired magazine although not specifically the cover of the august issue (Dear Wired, Martha Stewart. On the cover? Seriously? Love, Amo)

learning to play the first few notes of Empty on the piano; playing the piano; the fact that you have a piano in your apartment

a two hour and twenty minute book club meeting where 8 girls prove to be about more than just Paris Hilton, nail polish, sample sales, boyfriends and Marc Jacob purses

thinking about getting another masters (head explodes)

researching just how to go about getting another masters (dr. master to the second power?)

fonty

starting a project post-graduate school. with no real deadline. on my own terms.

a coffee table book, 2GB of photos, endless possibility

ideas. juices. flowing

$209 short and three weeks to go

A Case of the Mondays

It's bad enough that it's Monday, which puts an end to the seemingly perfect weekend, but it's Monday AND pouring buckets which means I've spent the first two hours of this Monday sitting in wet pants with damp feet from my no-longer rain proof galoshes. This calls for recalling a few things that I am totally and utterly stoked about so much so to the point of losing sleep on an almost nightly basis and wanting to bottle this moment to drink again when I'm 60 and gray:

• Strawberries and homemade dark chocolate whipped cream
• Gifted Pineapple
• Tompkins Square Park on a July Tuesday night
• East river at sunset...pretending to see the sunset...
• Puzzle pieces
  
• Crying for once because I'm happy
• Aloe Vera
  
• Run Lola Run
  
• Soccer on the Hudson, my brother's bearded friends, a fan shirt (yes! I'm a fan)
  
• Running past the GW bridge, injury free
  
• Staying up waaay past my bedtime, getting three hours of sleep and not [at all] caring in the morning
• Herman Miller Chairs, danish design
  
• Coming up with new words for love
• Talking to the PIC and per usual laughing my face off
• Hoping for a red light
  
• Damien Rice. Rufus. Once. Once on repeat.
  

The [very] Little things

saying bang (!) out loud every time I type it

typing and reading in paragraphs

being excited to go to sleep just to pass the time more quickly

dog parks, "Barney" always thinking that my dog is more cute than all of them combined

sighing, like, every five seconds out of total disbelief that this IS actually happening. to me

giggling.

On Why I Run

post run stretches
post run euphoria
post run holy hell I just ran 10 miles, god i'm a f*ing rock star
pre run jitters
pre run superstitions (spaghetti dinners, chocolate milk, bagels, three shot blocks, lucky yellow socks, lucky underwear, right shoe first, double knots, believe me natalie at the starting line. always.)
pounding out my problems on the pavement
crushing pebbles, kicking stones, kicking up dust, the bridle path
slow deep breathes, breathing through a cramp
breaking my PR
nature
fresh air, early morning fresh air, being awake before anyone else in the city
learning to run and drink from a paper cup at the same time
learning that there's way more to running than just putting one foot in front of the other
excel sheets to track mileage, training programs, newsletters, running groups and partners, a running journal detaining mileage, food intake and body awareness
full dedication, expectation, motivation
the finish line
the journey
a new found hobby (or addiction) for life

Bang (!)

central park at night, midtown after dark, stars (!) in the sky in NYC (!)

the feeling that what you've been waiting for is finally here, the feeling that something magical is about to begin, the feeling that you just. can't. wait any longer

breakfast at Wimbledon (although not exactly the outcome of the men's match)

sleeping in, naps, pausing the tennis to nap

finding a stockpile of old Birthday cards and pictures and being able to toss them without hesitation or tears

waking up at 6:30 am to go running in a state park outside the city, hills, gravel, the smell of nature all around, Gatorade and water on the new hydration belt, a solid start to the marathon training season and a great partner to endure it with

fresh flowers

rotisserie chicken

very juicy watermelon

cereal for breakfast or dinner (!) and several times in between

phone calls from Berlin, text messages from London, my dad will be home on Thursday (!)

The Greatness that is so Great

Cool summer mornings that feel more like fall than summer

Wine bars, Barvarian red wine, white wine tastings, pretzels filled with peanut butter (!) good friends and so so much laughter that my face hurt this morning (!)

A trip up to the Bronx to see the Yanks play, the 7th inning stretch, Derek Jeter's athleticism

A german dinner and german beer on Ave C

Caprese salads, sangria AND my dog at the sidewalk café

The perfect 6 mile run to kick of marathon training season, the perfect weather to run it in, water fountains just where you need them and banana bread waiting at the finish "line"

Open-face grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches at midnight (!)

Asian Pub, Manhatta, Cold Stone.

Cosmos and the planning of a terrific marathon/raising money for charity bash

800 thread-count sheets, down pillows. Feeling like you're sleeping in a hotel bed

Saucony sneakers size 7, specific L and R Asics socks, Brooks running shorts in bright orange

Proud supporter of the two day workweek

Ugh what a day....what a week, actually. I have to force myself to go home and run because otherwise I might end up in bed with a pint of B&J half-baked frozen yogurt watching Garden State just so I have a reason to bawl my eyes out.
I can only think of...less than....10 things that made today worth getting out of bed:

• turkey bacon and egg & cheese breakfast sandwich for half as much as it really costs b/c my coffee guy "Poppy" loves me
  
• it's Friday
  
• a super cute new shirt and new flippers to wear to work on "casual Friday" ha, as if everyday isn't casual for me now
• talking to a few more people, getting a few more leads
• actually saying "no thank you" to a job offer. it just wasn't the right move to make.
  
• hearing some of the good details of my friends wedding next sept. talking about weddings in general
  
• a competitive drinking game that encourages me to get wasted while raising money for my marathon charity....thanks J.C
• buying a new pair of running shoes after work to start this marathon training off right!
  

On a [few] things that REALLY annoy me

• When people refer to their baby's age in months. Look, I get it: that's how mothers "think" and that's how you track development until the age of three. However that is not how the rest of the world thinks and 18 months is also the same as 1 and a half years. Try this instead: round up to the nearest half-year when they baby is older than say...12 months?
• When people don't realize their cell phone is ringing even though it's blaring that obnoxious default Verizon ringtone. Silent or vibrate are the only acceptable ringtones between the hours of 9 and 5.
• The same people who have the keypad sounds turned on and send text messages (using ABC) all throughout the day
• Any ringer that resembles or references any song played on Z-100
• People who use their blackberries on the subway. Um, we're underground so unless you're playing Tetris, that thing is not working. Quit showing off and put it away; we're not impressed by your fancy technology. And while you're at it, take your cell phone off your belt, you look like a tool!

...Oh So Happy

The past ten days or so have felt like one big blur in the best and most fantastic way possible. With the exception of coming down with strep throat in the earlier part of this week, everything else just feels like it's falling into place. These moments seem few and far in between; when I really feel like I'm living at the speed of life and not, say, at the speed of wishing that something would like, happen already because I'm just so bored. In lieu of giving you every detail and because I can't honestly sit here and type out all of the amazing moments, I revert to my handy list:

• Seeing Moby spin an hour long set Friday night at a bar on Avenue C...for $10. Only. In. New York. (file under reasons I can't leave and move to Chicago)
• Spending the best five or so hours of the past, oh I don't know year, talking to a perfect stranger on a padded cushion on the floor of a new Hookah bar in the east village, who after all that time, turned out not to be so much a stranger but just well...almost perfect.
• Season 6 of Scrubs now on my iPod. Enough said.
• Sleeping for almost a full 24 hours
• Finishing and mailing the best friend's wedding invitations
  
• A few great sidewalk café dinners with some friends
• Children of Men, You Me & Dupree, Million Dollar Baby all in the same day (for the record, I was out sick for two whole days)
• Knocked Up, perhaps the funniest movie I've seen in the last five years
  
• Frozen yogurt for breakfast
• Finally letting go...in oh so many ways
  
• Leftover artichoke pizza and wine
• Strawberries and plums in the park
• A really great 6 mile run
• 7 a.m phone calls from somewhere in Europe, Russia or London
  
• Singing karaoke for the first time. Ever. (Noted that Man on the Moon, not exactly the best song to sing along to)
• Taking shots, plural, on a Tuesday night
• A few more e-mails and a few more phone calls
• The thought of switching careers
  
• Staying out way past my usual bedtime and [not] regretting it at work the next morning
• Sending all my donation letters out and already (!) getting a few responses
  
• Signing that confirmation letter that said, "Yes, I will run 26.2 miles on November 4." I'm IN IT NOW and there's no turning back....and I'm loving every minute of it

Conclusions

So Project No iPod has finally come to it's close and man, what a week it's been. The first and most important thing I've learned is: never, ever do that again. Ever. NYC IS LOUD! And it's not half as interesting as I thought it would be. Although, one day I did hear a girl telling her friend that she works out every Sunday for 7 hours. 7. So like. The entire day. At the gym. And she wasn't even buff or anything, she looked pretty normal to me. Nobody talks in the morning. Nobody. The only noise you hear is the announcements and the iPod next to you, the one next to him, and the guy 10 people down who is listening to Spanish radio....at 8:30 am. Too much.

I also realized that I take the same exact train everyday. Which freaked me out because it means I am literally so ingrained in a routine that it's not even possible to catch the train before or after the one I catch. The reason I know this is becasue the conductor makes the same happy-go-lucky announcement about having a safe and glorious day upon approaching Grand Central. He also comments about not letting "mr or mrs light fingers take what is rightfully yours." That was the most depressing part of my week: realizing that everyday I was on the same train and that so far, this day has started the same way that the day before it had. And the day before that. And the day....With my iPod on, at least I can naively believe that I'm on a different train and thereby...switching it up and my life is not pigeon holed into making it to work by exactly 9:00.

I ended up having to make an excel sheet to keep track of the iPods I counted and everything else I listed, and believe it or not, it was a lot harder than I thought it would be. Here is the breakdown by totals instead of by day (it's just easier for me that way):

• how many people ask me directly for money on the way to and from work: 12 (mostly the same people everyday, including the woman who lives on my stoop)
• how many iPods I see (white ear buds only as this is the only fail-proof way to ensure it is, in fact an iPod, and not one of them crazy zunes or whatever): 312 (this was tricky becasue more people than I could have ever imagined have some other device other than an iPod and many people who DO don't use the white ear buds. This must be a direct result of the NYPD's warning to switch to black so thieves don't know it's an iPod. A zune goes for much less on the black market) I'm kidding. They are the same.
  
• how many times I hear the F word, in any of its many forms: only 5
  
• how many times I hear "stand clear of the closing doors please": 27 (a couple of times I had to catch the 6 instead of the express)
  
• how many times someone approaches me for directions: 1 (west is that way)
  
• how many times I can hear the music of the person next or near to me: 13 (never ever good music, by the way. Ever)
  
• how many times someone steps on my foot: 7 (number of times they apologized: 0)

So there you have it. And might I suggest sticking with Ira Glass and whatever else it is that keeps you sane in the morning. Thank you Steve Jobs for changing my social perspective and making me a total recluse on my commute :)

On Things that Suck

• Not being accepted to the NYC marathon and now having to raise $2500 to race for charity. I guess where there's a will there's a way. At least next year I'll have an auto-bib.
• Breaking hearts and being heart broken, either way you shake it, it sucks.
• Spinning a carefully crafted, beautiful web until a gentle breeze knocks it down.
• Doing work that other people don't want to do, and being way over-qualified (and too far in student loan debt) to have to/want to do any of it in the first place.
• Being undermined, underappreciated, underwhelmed.
  

Experiementation

I've decided to change up my commute and stop wearing my iPod to drown out the city, but instead listen to what people are saying, take in the noise around me and try to more carefully observe what's going on around me. Of course, this is only a temporary experiment for I already know that this can't and won't last more than a week. I started it on Tuesday and am already craving my music, or my NPR/This American Life postcast fill. Especially when, like this morning, I'm stuck sitting next to the man who at 8:45 am decides is the proper time to bust out singing R&B music without headphones; that's right, he just felt like singing a Capella for the entire ride. He started out with something awful by I believe, R. Kelly, and then moved on to another something awful by the infamous Usher, and finally the last song, a rendition of something by Boyz to Men, which I unfortunately missed the ending to because we were [finally] at my stop.

I'm also trying to keep track of certain things (some of which I cannot take credit for thinking of) like:

• how many people ask me directly for money on the way to and from work
• how many iPods I see (white ear buds only as this is the only fail-proof way to ensure it is, in fact an iPod, and not one of them crazy zunes or whatever)
• how many times I hear the F word, in any of its many forms
  
• how many times I hear "stand clear of the closing doors please"
• how many times someone approaches me for directions
• how many times I can hear the music of the person next or near to me
• how many times someone steps on my foot

I think that should be enough for now, as it is, that's a lot of things to have to keep track of in the morning when I'm only half awake and in the afternoon, when I'm still only half awake from having spent the day here, in front of this beautiful 30." I think I need a notebook.
Stay Tuned...

How to Charm Me [on the sidewalk]

Walk at the speed of turtle or better yet stop walking all together because you are:

• sending a text. I promise if you use T9 you can walk & text at the same time
  
• e-mailing/crack-berrying
• a lost tourist
• reading AM NY or Metro. Honestly it's a free newspaper, how interesting can it be?
  
• talking on the phone (look it's 2007, if you can't walk & talk at the same time, maybe you shouldn't be privileged enough to own a cell phone)
• walking more than 2 across i.e. a group of 13 year old girls from the 'burbs wearing matching lime green t-shirts that say "Milton Middle School's First NYC Trip" who also think the sidewalks are just like the hallways where you can, in fact, walk with 9 other friends and not get in anybody's way. Newsflash: You're in my way!

Well at least...

Tragedy strikes again. But, rather than dwell, I'll look to the bright side. There is no other choice. At least:

• the sun is shinning today and the roof didn't leak yesterday
  
• Old Navy sells bathing suit 'separates' so I can buy two different sizes (it makes a bigger difference than you may realize; not all of me is "extra small")
• nice weather is forecasted at the Jersey shore this weekend & for my mom's Birthday
  
• payday is Thursday
• I get to see my family tonight for an early Birthday dinner
• It's not too hot for a 5 mile run to clear my head
  
• New York City has some of the best hospitals in the country

You gotta take what you can get [or] a somewhat lame weekend in review

• The phone finally started ringing, the e-mails finally started coming...
• Posting my second best 4-mile race time-a mere 9 seconds off my PR
• Eating some really good Thai food and having some pretty good laughs
• The Snorks, The Jetsons
• Sleeping in. And taking naps.
• Buying a new plant, whom I named Penelope.
• Having too many drinks at happy hour, eating too much Mexican, and riding on the subway too drunk
• Meeting some fun new people

Summer Want-Haves

• Free Shakespeare in the Park: Romeo & Juliet
• gold flip-flops
• the perfect pair of red peep-toe sling back shoes to match my polka dot dress I'll be sporting to a few weddings this summer
• seedless watermelon slices
• The Decemberists, live in Central Park
• a trip out to the island to see Jocelyn
• an entire day spent by the pool lazily sipping...something
  
• a big, red shiny tomato sliced thick with salt & pepper
  
• a visit to the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens
• checking off quite a few books from my self-imposed summer reading list
• banana splits
  
• a picnic in the park
• book club on an apartment roof-deck
  
• Great Adventure and a ride on Kingda Ka
  
• a drama-free wedding for my best friend on August 11th
• a delay-free flight out to Denver for my cousin's wedding on August 12th
  
• a Yankees game or two
• a brand spankin new 20" iMac
• a few leads and maybe even a few offers. or just one offer. one is all I need
  
• a great day at the beach, a great week at the beach
  
• sidewalk café dinners, raspberry cosmos and laughter till well after sundown
  
• a few fantastic 10-mile runs
• shinny new race shoes to break in
• acceptance to the NYC Marathon
• a great start to the marathon training season (July 1)
  
• ice-cream cake
• sparklers and fire works by the bridge on July 4th
  
• Coppertone, Banana Boat whatever just the need for some SPF
• a day off just to do nothing but relax and enjoy summer
• bamboo plants springing to life
• tickets to the US Open after Labor Day
• a fun Labor Day weekend getaway, perhaps to Seattle or Portland
  
• a decision, a made-up mind, a confident feeling
  
• a few half marathons added to the calendar
• another long weekend in Chicago, this time with my Mama
  
• a day on Lake Hopatcong for old time's sake
• water skiing
  
• dinner at the J-house and a few margaritas
  
• yellow cake with cool whip icing, blueberries and strawberries
• dirt with gummy worms
• a meteor shower
• a wish upon a star that actually comes true
  
• a long run on the beach after sunset
• a fun summer fling or a blossoming blissful romance