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Scanning pages upon pages of documents filled my work day. I had little human contact and got up only to use the restroom or to refill my coffee mug. I didn’t realize how little I had used my voice all morning until after noon, when a coworker asked me how I was doing. The answer I provided sounded something like a dying frog. Even I am not entirely sure what my response was supposed to say.

The woman who provided the question is one I do not converse with much. She held a certain space in my mind, meant mostly for the occasional “Excuse me” and such. I believe I held a similar space in her mind, too.

The conversation that proceeded was one I would not have expected. Full of jokes, that one. And funny ones, too! At one point, she even went on to tell me a story about her weekend which had me quite focused and surprised. I learned more about her in six minutes than I have in six months.

In all of us, I believe there are many sides. We can be both captivating and boring; funny and sad; good and bad. Today, I took the opportunity to recognize the strangeness in myself. I began to wonder when and where I have presented both my best and worst selves. I wondered where I could have possibly gone wrong.

All too often, humans are fast to judge one another and to think that the person being judged is a person he or she could never be. But, wait until that moment when a young, skinny bastard steals their parking spaces. Then the Red appears. Maybe the steps away from that red to the doorway of doing something abominable are fewer than what seemed. I know I have had some terrible fantasies in my mind, behind seemingly stupid people, in line at the bank.

I can’t help but to think that maybe we all need to take a step back, sometimes, and really think about situations, before passing judgment. To find out where, really, we went wrong. Placing a finger on one person or group can feel good for the moment, but the problem still exists. Maybe the problem exists in all of us.

I can’t help but to think that maybe, inside me, there is both a prince and a frog. Maybe I need to hold up a mirror and kiss my own reflection to see which one appears before my own eyes. The empowerment of the experiment might be worthwhile. Maybe there is something there I did not expect to see. Or, maybe I will just see Me.

 

 

Just a thought. I believe working hard makes having fun so much better. There is a balance required in having a party lifestyle, in which I have spotted out in some amazing people I have known. Work hard/Play hard is a quality many claim to possess. But, to really work for the pleasures in life is not easy. Finding balance in this life is a skill I am constantly learning.

I’ve been working since I was a teenager. I am no newbie to the workplace. However, I still have to remind myself, occasionally, that I know how to tie a tie. Even after moving to NYC with only a suitcase and carry-on on a plane, I still have to remind myself. I have to remind myself that there is a creature in me that knows how to make money. A force that can balance out my whimsical, happy-go-lucky ways, with a side of me that is a solid M’f’er. A side of me that will be ok.

Too easy, it can be, at times, to get stuck in the past or have anxieties flying around like annoying gnats to enjoy the Present. To not recognize a side of oneself that is willing to roll up both sleeves and get hands dirty and dig in deep to find a sense of peace. The you inside you that will always hustle ’til you make it.

“Don’t be stuck between past and present energies.” That’s what I keep telling myself this week, after reading my horoscope a few days ago. Constantly reliving the past is not going to be a tool for this project I have going on and I have to stay focused on the Present. No matter where I am going, it literally cannot be to the Past.

Short-term goals are my focus right now. I have a trip to NYC coming up in exactly a month. There a many other short-term goals between then and now. The trick is making each moment count. I am here for the dirty work. Just don’t be surprised if one of these dirty hands is holding a dirty Martini at the end of the day.

 

The rain started pouring last night. I was instantly drawn to the front porch, to see what there was to see. Ever since I was younger, I have loved seeing the rain and even, occasionally, dancing in the rain. So, I found my favorite porch swing and stared off into the distance.

Water cleanses and water makes up most of what is our planet. Water baptizes and water feeds our land. I thought about how nice it would feel to run through this wonderful element of water, without regard. The unchildlike side of me stayed on the swing.

As I hit six months of being back home, I have found myself seeing both such strides I have made and so many fears that have occupied my mind along the way. Sometimes, I get afraid of simply making a mistake. I know life is full of mistakes and mostly everything I learn can be traced back to the mistakes made beforehand. But there is something about making a mistake that I can never find exciting, still.

Like liquid, I hope the future will pour over all of my worries and make sense of everything. Some sense of purpose would be the rain to the desert I refer to — and I could definitely use something very torrential. I have to trust that that rain will come.

[Cue the Native American Rain Dance]

Until then, there is the actual rain. There is a pool in the back in which to swim. There is a dispenser of water from which to drink. There is all the actual water that I can think (of).

Let the rain pour down on me.

 

I woke up at 4:30am on Wednesday morning with a feeling that I might not fall back asleep. I was concerned. The fact that I had to be up in two hours was in the forefront of my mind. What does one do in such a moment of panic? One puts on Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt on one’s iphone and tries to escape the restlessness.

Season 2, Episode 10 was up in my Netflix queue. I began to watch. Titus Andromedon began speaking and I turned over on my side. A joke or two, sassy blink, and several funny lines later, I was curled up, involved. There is nothing like a good show. There is also nothing like a great character.

In this particular episode, Titus is involved with a “Coming Out” conversation between his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s family at the dining room table. All of a sudden, the Grandma appears, and I am in stitches and almost fell out of my bed. The way it was presented made even the 4:30am me unable to control the pains from belly laughter. I won’t go into too much detail right now just in case someone is actually reading this who has not seen the episode or the show at all. No one loves a spoiler, but that scene was just so funny to me.

Later, I asked my friends Nicole and Sarah to watch the scene at their house to see their reaction. They, too, laughed at the silliness, perhaps somewhat out of necessity, being that I had built it up so much. But, I appreciated their loyalty, if that’s what it was.

Bursting out in laughter is one of my favorite things in the world. I just wanted to write a little something about that because, when it happens, it just feels like life is suddenly so much more than okay. My friends bring laughter to my life all the time in this way and I am so grateful. I can’t wait for the next outburst.

Now, if you aren’t watching Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, get going!

 

Two purchases I made this week have left me feeling a little giddy. I thought I would share my experience with both. In no particular order, here are the details of each purchase:

1.

Trip to NYC (mostly Brooklyn) in July 

I have been feeling nostalgic and just know it’s time to get back to my friends and Park Slope. The weather is so nice here in Georgia and I was texting Liz and TL the other day that I just wish we could collide these two worlds (GA and NY) and have one perfect world. I think that particular day would have involved a bike ride to Coney. I miss seeing the back of those two, riding ahead, on an adventure. There is nothing like a bike ride on a beautiful day with beautiful people. However, whether there is biking involved or not during this July trip, there will be so much that I miss right now to do. I would totally go all the way with a homeless person for an Everything Bagel All the Way right now. 

2.

Shoes

Who doesn’t love a new pair of shoes?! I have been eyeballing some Adidas Superstar shoes at the mall for about a month and I finally took the plunge yesterday. There is nothing like wearing a new pair of shoes for the first time — like walking on air! I have a couple of casual events the next two weekends and my Nike shoes were looking a little beat. What’s a boy to do? 

• I just thought I would share two purchases I made this week. I have been pretty frugal lately and it feels pretty good/familiar. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a credit card to go put back on ice. 

Z

 

This morning, I found myself Google searching for tips on how to make it through the day with practically no sleep. I woke up at 2am and could not fall back asleep and was pretty calm about it all — until after I took a shower and felt the wave of fogginess and panic about completing a long day at work set in. Disappointing, I found it to be, to learn that one of the main tips provided was to “Take a nap, if possible.”

I have been striving to become some semblance of a Morning Person, since moving home to Georgia. My years in New York City left me thinking that people who start their days early were of a different breed and that I could not possibly be one. I, of course, had mornings in NY when I had to be up early, but not on a regular basis. I primarily worked and socialized evenings (sometimes later than intended). Some mornings are harder than others these days; today was certainly one of them!

One reason I despise being in a foul mood and/or sleep deprived is that I often find others around me to have a hard time just letting it be. During my first cup of coffee, I contemplated ways to act happy — involving fake smiles, keeping to myself as much as possible, immediately asking how others are doing first, etc… — but, it seemed pointless today. I headed out the door for work and saw myself as an apathetic farmer, prodding the sweet cow inside me into a slaughterhouse. I believe we just have to ride these thoughts and feelings out sometimes. Asking myself to quickly get rid of the fogginess and to be happy felt like asking someone with a stomach ache to eat a tray of oysters.

Two hours, two cups of coffee, two sodas, a plethora of stretches, and about a dozen splashes of cold water to the face later finally left me feeling somewhat like myself again. I even picked up my cell phone and found something particularly funny and laughed. Feeling normal always feels so special after a period of feeling strange.

One thing I am discovering as an MPIT (Morning Person in Training) is that we have to fight through, even when the day feels so drawn out and unending and the minute hand even seems to wiggle back and forth like a hostile jerk. Hopefully, tomorrow, I will be the star of the morning at the office. Or maybe just a little less whiny about it all. I have a journey ahead of me before I will be able to say that I love mornings, but I am finding tricks and drinking tons of caffeine for now. Maybe that’s what it’s all about.

Z

 

A sense of yearning painted my morning. I woke up knowing I had dreamed many dreams to warrant the feeling and even remembered some key parts and definitely a couple characters involved. Sometimes dreams can disrupt a day’s flow, in the sense that the line between reality versus dream world seems fuzzy. And maybe part of me wished the dream world could be real. People appear in dreams that can never really appear. Hands can be filled with gold in dreams and then, suddenly, are completely empty when eyes are open.

During my lunch break, I received a text from my friend Jodi that Prince, the legend, had passed away at the age of 57. “Purple Rain” began playing on repeat in my head. My memories associated with the song also began to appear. The thing about memories is that even the good ones can come with sadness. Especially when the feeling evoked from a memory is the same as the dreams did that particular morning.

With songs on repeat and memories on replay, I went through the motions of the day. Later, I decided to think of a good memory and write a poem about the experience.

---

That Grin

The way you looked
One happy day
Whites of your teeth
Were on full display
Birds flew for miles
To dive right in
Oh, the power
Of that grin!
Beauty beamed
Through all of you
Even the sun came out
To catch a view

My bike has been in Atlanta for a few months. I recently had the opportunity to go up and retrieve my old pal. Yesterday, I set out for a ride in the neighborhood across from ours. The neighborhood is one I used to know very well. Come to find out, it is also a neighborhood that has changed.

Not long after I started pedaling around and seeing a golf course, lake, and many surroundings I have seen many times before, I remembered how much fun I used to have on those very streets, many years ago. Two of my best friends at the time and I used to carry walkie-talkies when we went on our explorations and, for a moment, I could almost see one of them riding ahead of me. Memories can cause hallucinations at times.

It must have been about an hour later when I realized that I had no idea where I was. The streets were no longer familiar. The neighborhood had clearly grown in size since I grew up. Patiently, I kept on pedaling and tried to find the entrance. But, I found myself going in circles.

A back entrance to the neighborhood appeared. Despite its leading to a highway and forcing me to go “around my elbow to get to my thumb,” I took a breath and just went with it. Cars sped past and probably looked at me as if I were insane; you sort of don’t see a lot of bikers on this particular road. With a bit of effort, I made it home.

Since yesterday’s ride, I have been thinking about how great it can feel to be “lost,” if only for a brief amount of time. It is not exactly an easy feat to get lost in the tiny town in which I currently reside, so I take it pretty seriously when it happens. I went into that neighborhood assuming everything would be the same as I left it. I was wrong. But, I still know I was there before. And the new there that is there has its own adventures, I’m sure. My only mistake was not wearing a helmet for this one in particular!

Sometimes, I think we need to let our interpretations of people we have known for a while and even ourselves get lost. I believe we, as human beings, are capable of and often do change. One of my biggest annoyances in life is to be pigeonholed. A quick way to make me feel like a person doesn’t really know me is when he or she acts like I must be the person I used to be. It simply is not true.

Then, there are also times when, I think, we all have to tell a part of ourselves to “Get lost.” Some things and some people need to be allowed to go ahead and peacefully ride off into the sunset. Or just Thelma and Louise that BS! — Strap that sucker into the seat and just push the convertible off the cliff. It’s not always so easy, but we need to let it happen when the time comes.

Maybe I just needed a ride or maybe I’m afraid of getting too set in my ways or maybe even both and more. All I know is, I hope I never forget to allow myself to get Lost from time to time.

---

Forget North, South, East, and West!
Today, my compass is inside my chest.

 

 

 

While going through some old books earlier, I came across my Great-Grandmother Elsie’s college yearbook from 1918. It was just the book I was searching for, because I remembered how endearing I found the following line to be: “She is rather inclined to be silent, but it is at these times that her mind is traveling with an ambulance driver ‘somewhere in France.'”

These days, I often think my mind is “somewhere in France.” Maybe even with an ambulance driver. Maybe it’s hereditary. Who knows?

Sometimes I keep to myself. Not forever, but I do. For me, it is always important to balance a life full of being a mouth with being an ear. Both a speaker and a listener. Sometimes I go out, too.

Words are very powerful. Balancing speaking and listening, I believe, is a step in the right direction for discovering the appropriate words. I also think it’s something to work on often. Unless being an ass is the goal!

Over the past couple days, I have twice been reminded how easy it is to speak before thinking and I am so glad I stopped myself before jumping off the cliff both times. I suppose it is wisdom that reminds me to take the high road during times of intense pressure and stress, stops me from blowing up, and leads me to take a deep breath instead. I can be rather impulsive at times, so it can be tough. But, it’s definitely worth the effort.

There is beauty in being quiet and I am glad to know that it is in my blood. There is a loudness in me, too. But, I think finding balance is key.

Anyway, I have somewhere I need to be.

Au revoir. Z