Who I was, Who I am, Who I will be

This weekend my roommate's best friend is visiting again and I find myself remembering how different my interactions with him have been.

At first I was probably a bit flirtatious.  I wanted to be the cool, relaxed, cute roommate when I first moved in with the boys.

Later, I was probably the bitch.  Annoyed by the constant disrespect I received from my roommates, I turned into a bitter, nagging, unhappy wretch.

Today, today I feel nothing fake.  No anger, no desire to put forth an image of myself that may or may not be true.  I feel like myself.  I feel like a happy self.  Seeing myself here, I recognize where I've been.  And I feel triumphant.

Living for the Moment

Today I grabbed coffee with Jim.  I've decided Jim is my life guide.

My dilemma is based in my inability to leave behind what I know for an uncertain future.  Will what I find be better than what I have?  Have I persuaded myself that I will be happy when in reality I will not be?  Questions.  Questions that can in no way be answered until I jump.

And jump is what Jim said.

The only way to find jobs, to make it work, to live a life is to jump into it.  Sitting here waiting for the perfect job in the perfect city is hardly a valiant attempt at changing my life.  If I want to change jobs and change cities, I must first change cities and then find a job.  

This is where the challenge solidifies.  Over a year ago I easily packed up a few items and travelled to the unknown, without a job, a place to live, or anyway to support myself.  Things worked out as they always do, as they must.  

I say that, but now I am frozen, scared of failure if I move.  What if I don't find a job?  What if I can't make it?  How is it that I had the courage to tackle a move once, yet now I find myself quivering at the notion of leaving the only life I know?

But when Jim says jump, I jump!  The deadline is set, the pressure is on.  

Will I make it?

They Leave Yet I Remain

I remain while people come and people go.  It is strange to think that I was in NYC when Amy arrived and I am still here as she leaves.  It doesn't seem as though I have been here that long.  

Time in New York passes differently.  Take time to smell the flowers is a phrase foreign to New Yorkers.  There is no time.  There are no flowers.  There is always something pressing, engaging, demanding.  When I return home, when I have a free weekend out of the city, I have time to think about all that has happened in my life, but when I'm in NYC all I can do is race through everything, jumping from activity to activity without a chance to breathe.  So when I think I've been here for over a year, nearly a year and a half, I feel as though I've been plunged into icy cold water, shocked and speechless.  

If I stay in New York I will be 30 before I know it.

Restless

I feel restless and can't subdue the desire to break free. 

Works drains.

Can't stay awake.

Can't function.

Can't think.

New space, new air, new work, new people - bring me back to life.

Nothing Better

There's nothing better than discovering a new band.  

Although it's known at work I write concert reviews, it apparently did not register with Nichole until today, when, suddenly, she yelled at Lily through the wall.  Lily came over and, responding dutifully to Nichole's pointed questions, informed me of her roommate's boyfriend's band (isn't that how they all go).  

Aunt Martha

I went home and immediately searched for the band, but nothing came up.  I searched Aunt Martha and myspace.  Jackpot.  With only 19 friends, and songs played a max of 559 times, the band is little known, however, the vocals and beats are captivating.  Easily one of the top band's I have encountered this year!

Separating Work and Friendship

Last night seemed like any normal weekend evening but with one major difference - this time the band on stage was not any band, this time that band consisted of two close friends.  

As Eric and Romeo took the stage, I whispered to my friend, "This is strange.  Normally I'm in the audience thinking, 'yeah, that's right.  I'm judging you.  you don't even know it, wouldn't even expect it, but I'm judging you.  and yet here i am, thinking that i can't judge them because they're friends'.  

That being said, I'm writing, I'm critiquing, I'm hoping they'll like it!  

And again, that being said, I'm incredibly proud of how well they performed after only one full band rehearsal!  In fact, the limitations of the performance lie not in their talents, but in the acoustics of the venue.

Sex and the City?

My mom claims I had idealistic fantasies of my New York life being straight out of Sex and the City.  And maybe I did.  And maybe my life does resemble Sex and the City at times but the parallel always diminishes when financial stability is taken to account.  

However, this weekend I experienced a scene straight from the opening credits of Sex and the City.

Saturday night.  Snow/ice storm.  Realize my razor is at home while showering at the gym.  Despite my hike to 4th street, I discover my spa is closed.  I can tell I am going to be late already.

After finding a new affordable spa, shaving my legs, donning an outfit that does not involve Colby sweatpants, and doing my hair and makeup, I leave the apartment at 7:55.  I have to be in Korea town at 8 and I cannot afford a cab.  A short bus ride and a jaunt on the subway and I arrive at my destination, nearly.  Coming out the of station, I glance around to orient myself and head on my way but somehow I get turned around.  As I retrace my steps, suddenly I hear a rush of water.  I look up.  Spray rains down on me, drenching my coat, hat, pants, and suede boots.  Shrieking, I stand stock still, shocked by the extreme cold as the bus drives away.

Why is it that disaster only strikes when you finally have every hair in place, every eyelash curled?  Fortunately, people were understanding when I arrived, appearing closer to a drowned rat than an elegant New Yorker.

New Year, New Life?

Having spent the past six months trying to find my new, adult self, I turned the new year celebrating as only my "old self" would.

And last evening I found myself defensive about my "old self", or is it now my "current self"?

With a new year comes an identity crisis?