IF STUPIDITY IS HEREDITARY I SHOULD GET MY VASECTOMY NOW

I don't know if it's an act of selfishness or just plain stupidity but I recently spoke to a close friend of mine about my reservations in confronting my friend that has been cheating on his wife (see "18-year-old strippers are hard to argue with" post).

This friend I confided in is one of only three people (or so) in my life I talk to about really personal things. The problem is that I spoke to her about how I am beginning to think that the chances are much greater that a marriage contains a cheating spouse rather than not. This friend is currently very close to becoming engaged to her long-time boyfriend and has trust issues in general. So here I am, just months before an expected proposal, talking to her about how hard marriages must be and how I think it may actually be "typical" for a spouse to cheat at some point. Today this friend e-mailed me saying she can't stop thinking about how I think cheating may be typical and how afraid she is of that happening to her. If I was playing psychologist I'd say this friend has shown throughout her past a tendency to justify relationship break-ups due to her mistrust and fear of infidelity (or maybe even just a fear of being hurt). I now feel very responsible for contributing to her doubts, which are normal I think, but don't need to have the flames fanned by me. I told her not to let fear control her emotions, which I believe is true. But I know fully well that knowing that is one thing and putting it to practice is quite another.

I was either being selfish because I needed to talk to someone and she is my standby OR I was just not thinking and should have taken her current situation into account before unloading my problems...and contributing to hers.

Relationships and love are so complicated. I'm not sure they have to be but in my world, they definitely are.

WORKING KIND OF SUX

I'm at work right now. I'm consulting for a company for 4 months on a part-time basis as I continue to search for an answer to the always allusive question - what do I want to do with my life? I've been thinking recently that after this gig is up I may look into working with a non-profit that will send me to some third-world country for a while. I think that is something I would like to do once in my life. Or I could scale it down and just go on some sort of missionary trip for a month or so. The "chicken" route...we'll see. I'm going to keep pushing myself to continue writing though. Even if I feel a diminishing confidence in ever reaching a level that would allow writing to be my career, it still acts as a great stress-breaker for me.

Here is a weird concern I have that has to do with writing: I worry that when I die and those closest to me find my journals they'll think less of me in some way. After all, even I think I'm borderline insane. Okay, maybe not medically speaking but seriously sometimes I question this! Part of me wishes there was a way for all my journals to spontaneously explode into deep-blue flames at the moment of my death, so no one will be able to read them. Then another part of me feels that people should know the real me...even if it's after I'm gone. Is that weird? That I don't care if it's after I'm gone? I mean, I feel like those closest to me would rather find out now, don't you think? But I'm not sure how to go about that. I mean if my disposition is part of the "real" me than so is my shyness to present it to the world, right? Or am I just justifying this?

Anyhow, I'm not getting paid to blog so I'd better go. Later.

18-YEAR-OLD STRIPPERS ARE HARD TO ARGUE WITH

I received a call tonight from a close friend who confided in me that he is cheating on his wife. He's been married for ten years and for the past year he's been rendezvousing with an 18-year-old stripper and a 20-year-old waitress (he's in his early 30's).

I felt sick to my stomach when he told me about his cheating. He says that he doesn't feel guilty and can't really explain why. He knows it's wrong. He talked about going to the bar with friends and having cute girls hit on him, even though they know he's married (don't get me wrong, he is the only one responsible) and how this is attention he doesn't get at home. He doesn't blame his wife though because she takes care of their child and that takes all her attention and effort. He's justifying this rather easily though.

I want to scream at this friend and tell him not to screw up his marriage and family. I want to tell him that I'm jealous of that family of his and can't stand that he's out sleeping with young women behind his wife's back. But I don't feel like it's my place...for several reasons. First off, I can't imagine how difficult it must be to be with one person for ten years. There is no doubt that the temptations and desires must be unbelievably strong. And I've never been in a relationship longer than 2 years, which is still way different than being married so...

Anyhow, this is weighing on me pretty heavy. This is a really close friend and I recently spent time with his family. I can't help but feel that this will end badly - and I think this friend is better than this. But I can't really relate to this situation. And I'm questioning whether it's my place to say something or not. Sometimes I think I get involved in things that I shouldn't, albeit with good intentions.

Anyhow, I'd say 70 percent of my married friends have at least one cheating partner. The sad thing is (and it scares me) is that I'm almost getting to a place where I think I'd be understanding of someone cheating on me. I wouldn't want it to happen of course but I think I'm almost coming to expect that it's the norm. How sad is that?

DO DRY CLEANERS ACCEPT MAN SUITS?

Have you seen the new commercials for Dial soap for men? The tag line for the advertisement is something like, "care for your man suit." Or something like that. "Man suit" makes me laugh. My "man suit" is hairy. I don't know what has happened. I woke up one day and had hair growing out of my shoulders. My shoulders! That's just not right. I'm at the point where I refuse to take my shirt off...even at the beach.

I'm not sure if this is a bi-product of it BUT I sweat a hell of a lot more now too. Which is really embarrassing at the gym. I'm the sweaty guy (sigh). By the middle of my workout I look in the mirror and see that the back of my shirt is drenched...as are these two spots under each man boob. I think it's actually the bottom of my ribcage that sticks out a bit and collects the sweat but either way it makes it look like I have two little, tiny, lactating boobs under my regular man boobs. I hate it. Most of the people in the gym look nowhere near as sweaty as I do by the end of their workout. I look like I sat in a sauna for five hours...then jumped in a pool. Why can't I be the cool looking guy at the gym? You know, the guy that uses EVERY machine and doesn't sweat a drop. Yeah, he's also the guy with the sunglasses.

Two complaints about the gym:
1. Why are you talking on your cell phone as you run? Is it that important? Do you also talk to your friends between huffs as you're having sex? This annoys me beyond words.
2. Guys - please don't wear shorts so tight that you can see your junk pile. First off, it can't be comfortable and second off, no one really wants to see that. Do girls like that? I think it looks ridiculous, completely unnatural. And if you are this guy, please don't talk to me. It makes me uncomfortable. Just as uncomfortable as the naked guy that blow dries his entire body in the middle of the locker room.

Am I being a prude American? Probably. Sorry about that. Just a few gym comments for the day.

TO CHOOSE A FAMILY AND HIGH-PAYING FUN JOB, TURN TO PAGE 112

I've spoken with several of my friends recently and heard a similar line from each, "I'm still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up." Of course this is tongue in cheek as we are all "grown ups" but it seems to be a common feeling for most. What do we want to do with our lives?

The good news is that we live in an age where the options are nearly endless. We don't get stuck in a trade as our grandfathers did years ago - we have the opportunity to try new things. As with most things in life, this opportunity brings good and bad luggage. It's fantastic that we have these choices but it brings a lot of stress with it. When the choices are many we can create anxiety around the simple act of even making a choice. Let alone the worry that when we do make a choice it creates a roadblock on all the other paths we could have chosen. It's like a choose your own adventure book. Once you pick a route, you wonder what would have happened had you made a different choice earlier.

I feel like I'm at this stage right now. I have the opportunity to choose virtually any future direction I want. But I'm having trouble deciding which path I want to choose.

RAPING MOTHER TERESA

I was reading today about a new book coming out next month about the life of Mother Teresa. In it are letters she sent to her spiritual adviser describing her struggles in faith. They are rather dark letters where she states that she questions the existence of god. She talks about how her smile is a facade. I don't know about you but when someone like Mother Teresa struggles with faith it makes me feel a little bit better.

I really want to read the book but there is a conflict here - she wanted the letters destroyed...and here they are being printed in a book. I never read Kurt Cobain's journal for the same reason, he likened someone reading his journal to rape. So I'm not sure how I feel about being one of the people that treads on their wishes.

I haven't written much about my struggles with faith on this blog but it's at the core of my constant questioning on pretty much every issue of life.

(HEART) BREAK OUT

Alright I'm just going to say it. I've beat around the bush for too long. I've written about this topic constantly but I've been hiding something from you...and me.

I'm afraid of relationships. There. I've said it. I don't think I'm afraid of BEING in a relationship, I think I'm afraid of being WRONG about a relationship. After all, I've been wrong about every one I've been in! I really don't trust my heart and mind to work together. They don't seem very good in tandem. In fact, I think they got into a fight when I was little and have ceased communication ever since. I've been in a couple of relationships where I truly saw a long-term future. By "saw" I mean "felt", because I think a strong emotion hid whatever signs may have indicated that that emotion was unrealistic. I understand that an emotion is always true but when it leads to naive perceptions I'm not sure how to feel about that.

And as I grow older that fear grows greater. But not greater in a deeper sense. Greater in the sense that there is more of it. For instance, now I fear that I won't trust my emotion to a point that it will take relationships longer to evolve into a deeper union. This scares me more than anything. And here is where it really causes problems - women look at my lack of openness as a sign of distrust towards them (which I don't blame them), when I think the truth is that I don't trust myself. I don't trust that emotion.

I really hope that my current desire to remain single and concentrate on writing isn't a product of this fear as well. I think that would be tragic. I don't know that I'd ever forgive myself if that were deemed true. Life is too short for this shit. I'm just having trouble breaking out of it.

ANGER MANAGEMENT

I was talking to a friend of mine recently about her anger. She is 38 years old, married, with 3 children. She said, "sometimes I get so angry at my husband or the kids that I go blind. It's a near blackout and I never know what I'm going to do."

This fascinates me for several reasons. First off, I know this woman pretty well and feel strongly that this is due to a deep-seeded resentment over her missing out on her younger years (she was first pregnant at 16) and over the poor parenting she received. I'm no psychologist but this is what I would guess. Second, when I was in the late teens/early twenties I used to have a similar problem. I would never "black out" from anger but I would get so angry that I'd lose control and, yes, even my vision would be affected. Not good. Over the years this has diminished and I seldom feel that rage anymore. I think I talked about this in an earlier post as well - sometimes I even miss the rage...as odd as that may seem. None-the-less I'm aware of how much better life is without that rage. I'm not sure exactly when I lost it but I know it has subsided considerably.

I worry that this friend of mine will never lose her rage. I worry that for the rest of her life she will have this resentment that she can never fix (you can't bring back your younger years) and that's no way to live. If there is something I've learned this past year it's that you can't dwell on the past because the future is wide open. Meaning, you can make a lot of the future, almost anything, but you can't make it the past.

SUPERPERV

I went and saw the movie "Superbad" this afternoon. It had its funny moments but overall I'd say it was just okay. I think the funniest part about this movie was watching the people in the theater with me! First off, this movie is raunchy. Really raunchy. And there was this pervert sitting in the aisle with me that would say, "yeah baby" every time the movie showed a pair of tits. And I mean, EVERY TIME. And there were a lot of tits in this movie. Unbelievable. I wanted to punch the guy in the head. It would have been more endearing if he had tourettes.

And I'm so self-conscious that I kept worrying people were going to think I was saying it. Or that he was with me or something. So I totally booked out of the theater the moment it ended. What a perv.

It always disturbs me though when adults have young children at a movie like that. I saw at least two families there with children under the age of 10. Now I'm not naive, I know kids are going to encounter this stuff at some point anyhow but I can't imagine it's healthy to introduce it to them early. Likewise it wouldn't necessarily be healthy to shelter someone from it until the age of 40 either. But if I ever have a daughter I might try my best to do just that!

AM I FOOLING MYSELF?

Sorry for the delay in my posting. I've been entertaining visitors all week.

Today will be a quick post - I have written recently about how for the first time in my life I'm feeling okay with being single and the diminishing chances of having a family at some point. Of course, just to throw a wrench into my contentment I had an interesting experience this week.

One of the people visiting NYC was my brother's best friend from high school. He was here with his wife (who was taking a seminar at Columbia University) and his 7 month old daughter. His daughter was so cute and well behaved that I fell in love immediately. And she took to me right away - smiling and reaching for me. I ended up carrying her as we walked around Central Park and her father and I discussed the evolution of our lives. Instantly I felt a longing for that life which was completely opposite of mine. So here I am, once again, questioning my desires. Why did this girl have to be so damn cute?

I'M NOT UNHAPPY, I'M JUST JOY-CHALLENGED!

I don't know if this holds true for everyone but I was wondering, what makes people feel lonely or isolated? What makes us feel different? Is it because we feel misunderstood? Or maybe because we feel people can't relate to certain emotions or ideas we have?

I understand a feeling of loneliness or isolation that can come from not believing anyone else could possibly feel like you do. It's something I carry with me quite often. It's not an arrogant emotion - as if I'm special for feeling this way when others can't - it's a burdening, lack of confidence, "I don't belong" emotion.

What I can't understand is why I can't see it from a different perspective. Wouldn't it be great if you could look at yourself and instead of seeing someone "different" you see someone "unique"? Instead of seeing someone "strange" you see someone "special"? How often do you meet someone and think, "gee, that person is exactly like me in every way"? Never! Because no one (I don't think) contains the same exact bundle of attributes. That's why our DNA is completely unique. So why do I find it so hard to look at the traits that distinguish me from others as being special instead of a burden? Why do I feel different and strange instead of proudly unique? I suppose it's all in my perspective. I wish I would embrace it instead of shun it.

How we look at ourselves is one thing, but something I can't reconcile is when we feel as if no one can relate to us. Not in general really, but rather emotionally or even with very specific thoughts. Part of me tells myself that there is always someone out there that feels the same way, the world is too big. I just haven't met them yet. I use books, art and movies to act as a placeholder for my comfort. In the end we all want a human understanding.

I bet you think I got off track here, right? What I guess I'm saying is, if I could see myself as having "special" traits instead of "strange" or "different" traits I think it might go a long way towards curing my "unrelatable syndrome."

If only it was an easy fix...

ONE ON ONE

Friday night a friend of mine and I went to see the Broadway play "Frost Nixon." It was fantastic, really a great play. It was about the first interview Richard Nixon had after stepping down as President of the United States because of the Watergate scandal. They agreed to do the interview with a soft talk-show host believing they were much smarter than him so they would come out looking great. At the same time the interviewer is trying to coax Nixon into admitting his part in Watergate.

I wasn't born yet when Watergate took place so I wasn't aware of this interview that actually took place (it's being made into a movie as well). The fact that I didn't know the facts in this case made the play that much more interesting. Anyhow, it was great - but what I wanted to post about was something that the play touched on.

Towards the end of the play, Nixon calls up the interviewer before they tape the final few hours of the show and basically compares the interview to a bull fight. One person will win. One will lose. Lets both give it our best shot and may the best man win type of speech. Nixon looked at the interview in the same way he saw politics - a dual. Now, I can admire that to a degree. I admire the strength and courage that type of outlook contains...especially for someone who apparently lived their entire life that way. But some things in life aren't supposed to be treated as a dual. Politics is supposed to be about vision, leadership and welfare of society. To achieve those goals you can't look upon every move as a fight. You need to compromise and have an open-mind along with an understanding of culture and values. Somewhere along the line politics became a scorecard. It's less about the welfare of society and more about how many points you can score on you opponent. Someone play offense and someone plays defense. That's fine for a basketball court but not for people being paid a lot of money to represent a large community of individuals. You are supposed to be their voice...NOT their champion or hero. A voice to express, and a hand to build. Nothing more and nothing less.

I haven't spoken about politics on this blog but I'm fascinated by it. I'm fascinated by the power it has to change things. And I'm fascinated by the power it has to corrupt. Unfortunately I believe we are at a time where the power to corrupt has overtaken the desire to change. Fortunately I live in a country where, if the people get angry enough, they can actually fix it. That's what keeps me from despair.

Okay, no more politics for a while after this. I'll get back to some more philosophical posts. Stay tuned...

DON'T LOOK AT ME WHEN YOU READ THIS!

Why do I blog? It's a great writing exercise and, of course, therapeutic. But I could just write in my journal and achieve these objectives, right?

I must be the strangest blogger in the blogosphere. I've told less than a handful of people about my blog (most of which reside in a country outside the United States). I don't promote it or play the "search engine game." So why bother? Most people look to make money off their blogs or build communities of like-minded individuals. What am I doing here?

I suppose it's my baby-step towards being more open. Although I don't promote this blog, I know there is a chance that someone could come across it (like my first ever Internet friend - hi, Lachrimae!). That makes it slightly more risky...and rewarding. And the simple fact that it is on the Internet for anyone to come across makes it feel like I'm being more open - something a journal entry can't do.

When I first started this blog I was cryptic with my messages and less intimate. I would write something here and then run to my room to write the emotional details in my journal. That has changed and now my blog has become a more honest extension of my journal.

In any case, I'm very happy with the emotionally-open progress I feel I've made since blogging. I'm not where I'd like to be, or rather where most other people would like me to be, but I'm slowly improving. Maybe one day I'll send a link to this blog to people who I'll actually see face-to-face on a consistent basis. Uh, that may be a while though...

WHY?

I think I complain a lot about the "state of society." Often I post about the crisis many people face in the world and the unfortunate existence people have to endure. I don't feel that way all the time. I mean, I do...I recognize that these hardships exist constantly, but every once in a while I'll have this moment that, for an instant, removes it from my heart and mind. This "moment" is a brief example of what I imagine heaven to be like. Yesterday I experienced this personal nirvana. I was strolling down the sidewalk, taking a walk around my neighborhood. The sky was clear and the sun was shining brightly - I was watching my shadow mimic me on the nearby wall. As usual I had my headphones on, I think a tune from a 70's compilation was playing. I can't remember what song it was. It doesn't really matter. Then it happened. I had my "moment." I was filled with an intensity. A good intensity. A joyful intensity. It ran through my entire body. I may have even shivered. It's such a powerful feeling, as if I can accomplish anything. As if everything is perfect. I felt like I could burst. I looked around me and saw the tall apartment complexes, the children riding bikes, the Hispanic men on the corner waiting for work, and the intensity climbed. It peaked. My pace quickened and my head was high. I turned the corner and it was gone. It left my body but a small piece of it remained. I could feel it tingling ever so lightly. Soon it would be gone as well. This "moment" happens to me occasionally. Not often, but every once in a while.

I wonder how great it would be to have that feeling all the time. Shouldn't we all? I mean, although I can have a bleak disposition more often than not, doesn't it make more sense that it should be the reverse? I love these "moments" I have because when I look around all I see is beauty. I hesitate to call it "love" only because I'm not sure it's that exactly. None-the-less, "love" is the only word I can think of that carries the power I'm trying to relay. Truly, I look around and everything seems such an amazing gift. A miracle. Even things that I looked at hours before as an ugly blemish on the world, now looks stunningly beautiful. And soon, after that crumb of a tingle dissipates, I'll see it again as a discouraging blemish I'm cursed to see. Why?

Partly I think we do it to ourselves. Watch a newscast, you'll see story after story of the most depressing events possible. Events so sad that even the most creative mind would hesitate to allow it entrance. And the news not only reports it, but sensationalises it. You know why I think they do that? Because it creates an emotion. Even if it's a sad emotion, it's an emotion. And we remember emotions. It would be much more difficult to create an emotion similar to the moment I described before. I don't even think that's possible. So they create the emotion it can. But in doing so I think we fall into an emotional shackle where we start to see things in a darker light. Eventually, after decades of this evolution of a darkened outlook it becomes a part of us. We grow accustomed to it. We even begin to love it. It makes us feel safe in a way. Which is highly ironic considering it can be born of fear. I should clarify that - it makes us feel safe because it sets the bar of life so low. It would be hard to fail. It even gives us an excuse.

I wish I could change my outlook so that I had these "moments" more often. So that I saw the beauty that I know exists, more often. That's the thing, I know the beauty is there...in everything. It's just clouded by a thick layer of life. A layer of life that has been handed down from generation to generation with a darker tint than the generation before. Eventually we have to really concentrate to see the beauty. But as our mind grows tired of concentrating, the layer returns. I hesitate to say it's too late to change things because we got to this point after all, but I shudder at the thought of what kind of event would change the tide. I would do anything to be a part of that process though...whatever it was. I spoke about this "tingle" that remained with me for a few seconds after the intensity of my moment had subsided. Well, what if it DIDN'T disappear? What if it was still there and I had just grown numb from it? What if it was just sitting there, idle, waiting for me to realize it could blossom at any time?

Even after writing all this I'm very aware that my post tomorrow could be about my daily sorrows. I know this. And for someone who occasionally believes he possesses the strength to handle and accomplish anything, I don't dare fool myself into believing I can change that aspect of myself. I, also, have grown comfortable with my darkened disposition. I actually fear changing it. Why would I fear it? Imagine being the only person in the world to see heaven on earth. Imagine how much you would be hated. Imagine how despised you would be. Imagine not being able to share it with anyone. No, I suppose that would be like hell. Knowing we were all in heaven but not being able to get anyone else to understand. That would break my heart. That I couldn't take.

I often write in my journal, "what have we done with the world?" Well, maybe we haven't messed it up quite as bad as we think. Maybe we're just looking at it all wrong. A majority of the time I know I'm looking at it wrong. What I can't figure out is can I change that? And, more importantly, do I want to?

MAYBE I SHOULD JUST WATCH TV LIKE EVERYONE ELSE

Is the desire to make the world a better place an egotistical goal? Is it arrogant? Before I close my eyes for the last time I would like to think that I made a positive difference in the world - one that will ripple along for decades...maybe even forever. I have no idea how I'm going to do this. Deep down in my soul I feel like I can achieve this goal. I suppose that's where the arrogance comes in. Anyhow, I firmly believe that the greatest contribution one can make to life is to raise a child well. That is a contribution that will touch and "ripple" for such a long time. But lets say that children aren't in my future - what is my alternative?

If a family isn't in the stars for me then I suppose the opportunities are pretty wide open. Almost as endless as the pain and injustice throughout the world that seeks a remedy. Where to start? What makes me think my ideals or ideas are right? What if my idea of change, backed by good intentions, is more harmful than positive? What if I reach above my potential? Maybe I don't have the talent to make a huge change in the world. Maybe I'm supposed to live life like so many people do, simply surviving and making a quiet contribution that may not be fully realized by anyone...but exists.

Can I be happy with a "quiet contribution" assuming I realize the positive impact I had? Even if it's only affecting one person? It sure seems less satisfying to me but I suppose I'll take what I can get. There are so many people that make quiet contributions in the world while simply trying to survive. But if I'm not going to have a family (an ordinary life) then I want to be extraordinary in another arena making positive strides. I almost feel it's a necessity in my life.

Oh geez, now that I re-read what I just wrote I feel more arrogant than ever. Feeling a necessity to be extraordinary? What makes me so special? What makes me believe I can be extraordinary? I don't know. I'm just at an exciting crossroads in my life where within the next year I think I will have the opportunity to decide where my life heads. But more than that, I feel like things have been set up in my life so that the near future lends itself to being my most productive. So what will I do? What should I do? I'll just keep chugging along and hoping I'm heading in the right direction...but I'm keeping my eyes open for something extraordinary...

YOU GOTTA PROBLEM WITH THAT? (BROOKLYN ACCENT)

I will, most likely, never consider myself a "New Yorker." There are so many things I love about NYC - the fact that you can get ANYTHING delivered at 4 am on a Sunday, the energy, the classic movie theaters, the fruit stands, the skyline. I could go on. What I did not include in this list is, "the people." Now I've met some absolutely wonderful people in New York. I've made some great friends...BUT...overall I'm not a fan of the mentality here. Money rules Manhattan and it just seems so absurd to me. People (I'm generalizing) seem more concerned with the brand name of their over-sized sunglasses than anything else. And it sucks people in. I've witnessed first hand the arrival of fellow mid-westerners with their core religious values, eye's wide at the towering skyscrapers turn into Hyde. It doesn't take long before they are using their credit cards to buy goods while skimping on food. I understand the need to fit in...I just don't like it when "fitting in" means what it means in Manhattan.

As I said, I've made great friends in NYC but MOST of the people I meet I can't relate to, or don't want to relate to. The priorities are messed up. I think I mentioned in an earlier post about the evening I had with an ex-coworker (someone I would say is a friend but someone who fits in the above characterization), where her and her husband spent twenty minutes debating back and forth over who bought who the more expensive, prestigious gifts. It was shameful. It literally turned my stomach. I know I shouldn't be chastising people for how they want to live life. It's their prerogative. But, as you know, I'm searching for a greater peace and these types of life philosophies bother me. I feel like THEY are hurting themselves. But THEY seem happier than me so who's the idiot here? Anyhow, I also believe in social conditioning. I feel strongly for those who are given less of a chance in life because of what they were born into or events they encountered. I suppose I need to have the same sympathy for those on the other end of the spectrum as well. If sympathy is deserving...as I said, some appear to be happier than most so...

Having said all this I can't stand when people put NYC down. I do feel a kinship here. Sharing the city with 8 million people everyday, on the subway and across crowded streets will do that. I find New York lonely (a side-effect of the above mentality I think) and incredibly romantic as well. I will always have a place in my heart for New York. I just don't feel like I fit in with the majority of the inhabitants. Then again, I think that's something that makes New York great - everyone is represented.

Since I consider myself one giant paradox maybe New York City was the place for me. When the time comes for me to leave this city I'll tip my hat to it as I gallop along to a quieter retreat.

NO LONGER A GROUPIE

I've noticed a change in myself recently - I no longer enjoy group settings as I once did. I actually feel uncomfortable and uneasy at events with more than four people. And there are a lot of event with more than four people! Especially in NYC.

I doubt people notice...I'm still pretty good at carrying on a conversation but I no longer feel good about it. As I posted previously, I'm finding myself more and more annoyed with "small talk." And in group settings I feel that is the majority of the conversation. By far I prefer one-on-one, more intimate conversation. I'm a little concerned that I feel uncomfortable in group settings now. It's one thing not to like them as much but it's another to feel uneasy in them. Again, I doubt people notice...but I do.

I've really become a bit of a loner over the past two years. The times I go out with friends are typically because THEY contact me. I'm bad at staying in touch and often find myself preferring low key activities to a night of bar hopping with friends. Most of my weekends involve seeing classic movies...by myself. And then going to the park to write. I'm not complaining, this is my choice. I worry a little about WHY I prefer movies and writing to social functions. But I don't have much of an answer to it. If you told me three years ago that my life would become what it has I would place the odds at 1000 to 1. And I would have bet the house on it. And I would have lost the house.

Okay, I got off-topic. The entire point of this post comes down to this: Has my preference for low-key activities affected my social skills? I've had 31 years of what I'd consider exemplary social skills. Could two years of increased solitude-time already diminish those skills?

THE WORLD IS FLAT

I've been thinking a lot about where my life is right now and where it could end up in say 5 years. In the end I always come back to one question - what's the point? But that is such an abstract question that I've decided to refine it....so...in the end, what do I want to be proud of? And what do I want to be remembered for? I know friends who can answer these questions without missing a beat. Me? I feel like I could answer them differently each passing year. My answer to these questions now will, in all likelihood, be quite different in a year.

An even bigger question might be: are these the right kind of questions to be asking? I'm somewhat jealous of a friend of mine - she is a happy-go-lucky individual who believes the point to life is simply to enjoy it (I've blogged about this philosophy recently). As much as I would like to think that way, I'm just not able to. I try, but I feel something lacking. Maybe that will change in the future. For now I'll remain jealous of her and keep asking all these questions of which I will never find an answer. Having just written that last sentence I feel rather ridiculous.