It’s been a while since I’ve posted on here. As you know, the past year has had me questioning the next step in my life—with my career, my travels, and Just Visiting. After some serious soul searching, drinking, and location scouting, I finally uncovered the only “before I turn 30” path that felt right. So I began putting a plan in motion to become a location-independent freelance writer. But I also decided to continue to pursue the current plan of living in NYC and working in advertising. I figured whichever one just “works out” on its own is the route I will follow.
But before I dive into my future, let me talk a bit about the past.
This past spring I could sense things were shifting at my job. There were tense conversations, layoffs, rumors, and team shifts that gave me the distinct feeling that I was on my way out. Not only that, but my workload had changed tremendously and I was no longer doing anything that I was proud of. It was depressing to spend so much time and energy working on projects that seemed so trivial. I began to despise work.
Over the summer, things remained weird. And I remained miserable. So I updated my portfolio and LinkedIn. I responded to recruiters. I didn’t turn down a single opportunity that came my way—and oddly enough they were pouring in. I had conversations with about 15 ad agencies in New York and California. I got offers, some offering $10,000 more than my current income, and perks like regular trips to Los Angeles. But none of them felt right, or like I’d be any happier than where I was currently working. I didn’t want to leave my job for the sake of leaving, I wanted to leave to make the right move forward.
At the same time I also began searching for freelance projects and planning this adventure into travel writing by kicking off with a big trip. But three major freelance projects fell through, leaving me a bit hopeless.
So far both routes were a dead end, but I kept moving forward with both.
I spent August tying up loose ends and paying off old bills so that I could save every penny towards my adventure. I continued to interview for shitty jobs and continued to long more and more for pursuing my passion. I pushed my lease from Aug 31 to Oct so that I could have two more months to save before moving in with my parents during the holidays, and leaving on a one-way ticket at the first of the year.
Then two weeks ago I finally landed a freelance gig to last through the end of the year. To me it was a sign that freelance just might be the right direction. So I knew it was time to kick my ass into high gear and start acting on my plans of leaving New York. I spent Sunday taking pictures of the things I wanted to sell and getting moving quotes from NYC to Ohio on October 31st. Then I started questioning whether or not this was the right decision—to give it all up after eight years of busting my ass to get it. My apartment truly felt like home. I’d finally developed some close friendships and local neighborhood hangouts that I love. I realized maybe it wasn’t New York that sucked, it was just my job. Life was good aside from work.
I started second guessing my decision. For the first time in my life I was actually scared of going after what I wanted. I was up until 4am on Sunday, mind racing, confused as hell, and hoping and wishing for some sort of sign to point me in the right direction and make this easy.
Then on Monday, I lost my job. Me and a handful of others were laid off without notice.
Sure it caught me a little off guard, but my first concern was that I would no longer be able to afford my dream plan. But I quickly realized that I’m only 46 short days shy of my planned move-out date anyway, and I’ve already begun doing small things to prepare for this. I was actually ahead of the game.
In true problem-solving manner, I immediately started to think about different ways I could save money, and the first thing that I thought of was breaking my lease a month early. I emailed my landlord and within an hour of being laid off, my apartment was on the market. I was taking pictures and sending over for the listing, and scheduling viewing times for the next day.
So here I sit, after roughly 30 hours of being unemployed. As of 645pm my apartment has been rented for October 1st, and I’m moving out of my beloved city in a week and a half. It’s crazy soon, and crazy fast, but this is exactly what I needed. I needed things to just happen so that I could react and get things done without thinking. Gone are the sentimental feelings of leaving this city and selling off all of my belongings. Instead they’re replaced by the excitement of refocusing my life, my attitude, and my direction. I feel more free than I’ve ever felt in my life, and everything just feels right. I couldn’t be happier.
I don’t know where I will end up in the next year, but I can tell you that the journey is going to be amazing. I’m not going to reveal too many details about what’s next until I book a flight, but I’ve taken this as the biggest kick in the ass sign I could have received, and definitely the ultimate ending to my summer-long quest.
I’ve left it to fate and it’s never been more clear: go pursue what you truly love; you can always come back.
For the past twelve years I’ve been working towards one massive life goal— move to New York City, finish school, get a good job, and get my own apartment in Manhattan. Last September I finally achieved the last thing on that checklist. And ever since, I’ve been asking myself, “now what?”
Over those twelve years, planning and working towards something was all that I’ve known. Now that I don’t have that, I’ll admit I feel a bit lost. Kind of like I’m just moving through life everyday on autopilot, sinking into this monotonous routine that most people would call stability. I call it boredom.
I’m ready for a big change. But I also know how long it can take to get on your feet after making such a life-changing switch. Now that I’m finally stable, in New York of all places, do I really want to abandon all that I’ve worked so long and so hard for and start over, just because of my restless curiosity? It’s a question I ask myself every single day.
When I first thought about leaving New York, I couldn’t help but feel like a failure. I didn’t want to feel like I was leaving because I couldn’t make it here. It took a couple of years and finally getting my own place before I realized that it wasn’t that at all. The problem was that I had made it here, and I was ready to challenge myself to move on to what’s next. Sadly, what’s next in New York usually means moving up the corporate ladder to higher-paying, more stressful jobs, with more of a lavish social life and a bigger apartment in a better part of town. But that path doesn’t interest me, because mo money, mo problems, amiright?
This realization left me wondering—what do I want now? Unlike most chicks who might have thought that by 29 they’d be married with kids, I always thought that I’d be a pretty well-established writer by now. Well, I’m not. So this leaves me questioning yet another aspect of my current situation. Things like, while I enjoy it, why am I spending so much time and brainpower in advertising, writing for brands that already have millions of dollars and don’t really help to make the world a better place? Wouldn’t that time be better spent writing for myself? Or at least writing for organizations that actually help people and improve their lives? Something I can be proud of? Does that mean I should change careers, or just clients?
I guess I’m just not the person I was when I first moved here eight years ago. Hell, I think I’ve changed more in the past year of my life than I have in the previous 27 years combined. I no longer want to become an award-winning creative director working 60 hours a week coming up with campaigns. I want to be outdoors more. I want to help others, not just myself. I no longer want all of my social activities to revolve around drinking. I no longer want to waste the cost of a round-trip flight to Asia on one month’s rent.
So for the past eight months I’ve been trying to figure out exactly what it is I want out of my life now that I’ve proven to myself that I can make it here. This has left me with all sorts of questions and uncertainties. But I don’t want to plan for the next twelve years, or even the next two years. I just want to take one leap and see where that leads me, one day at a time. I’ve been exploring a few different possibilities, hoping that something would come up and lead me in a certain direction. But it hasn’t, so I’m left to pull the trigger.
All I know is I’m in a world of trouble when I receive my lease renewal papers in the mail (any day now).
Has anybody else felt this way, like you’re not living up to your full potential? What did you do? It’s not that I’m afraid to make a change, it’s just that I really can’t decide on what I need to change and what I want to tackle next. Maybe it is something as simple as getting involved with different organizations here in New York, or maybe it’s more drastic like a complete change of scenery, or taking an extended break from city life to live out of a backpack and see where I end up.
This afternoon I completed the Five Boro Bike Tour in NYC. This evening my Jell-o-like limbs are confined to the couch.
The Five Boro Bike Tour is an annual cycling tour of NYC, and it’s the largest recreational cycling event in the US. This year there were 32,000 riders, as they closed off a bike-only route through Manhattan, The Bronx, Queens, Brooklyn, and finally Staten Island, while crossing over five bridges.
I woke up this morning at 545AM and seriously considered staying in bed. After a hot shower to wake me up I layered on my giant diaper (aka biking shorts) and workout clothes. I was still full from last night’s Chipotle burrito, but I forced myself to fuel up with a peanut buttered bagel, a banana, string cheese, and a Sambazon Mocha Java drink. I was ready to do this.
I met the rest of the group I was riding with down at my office before we biked over to Sixth Avenue to join the first group of riders slightly ahead of the starting point. NOTE TO ANYONE THINKING OF DOING THIS RIDE: drop in slightly ahead of the starting point so you don’t have to deal with getting delayed from the massive hoards of people backed up for blocks.
We made our way up a car-free Sixth Avenue easily. Along the way there were live bands on the sidewalks, and small groups of people either cheering us on or pissed that they couldn’t cross the street. The air was brisk and the sun nonexistent behind thick grey clouds. I didn’t mind the goosebumps on my arms as I passed the first two ad agencies I worked at, the NHL store where I used to work in college, and Radio City where I walked at my graduation. It was kind of like a greatest hits tour for me. Plus it was nice riding on the city streets without the constant horn-honking traffic.
We entered Central Park at 59th Street and got our first taste of uphill riding. It didn’t take very long before we were on 110th moving into Harlem. It was still smooth, effortless sailing and we trekked across our first bridge, the Madison Avenue Bridge. From there the ride only went about two miles in the Bronx before we were crossing back over into Manhattan and onto the FDR, a road I’d so often feared for my life in the back of many, many cars, yet I was now biking in the center lane with no worries at all. The dark tunnel under Gracie Mansion echoed with loud cheers as we entered, and when we finally emerged back into the daylight the daunting Queensboro Bridge (sorry, I refuse to call it the 59th Street Bridge) began to peek out.
I was a little intimidated on the ramp, but I switched gears, stopped talking, and started pedaling. Before I knew it I was past the ramp and only a little sweaty. A few people got off and walked their bikes, but the rest of us pushed on and right over. Just like that, we were in our third borough, Queens.
Clowning around at the first rest stop in Astoria Park
The first rest stop was at around mile 19 in Astoria Park and was basically mandatory, so we dismounted and grabbed a quick snack. By now the wind was really whipping, and I longed for a long-sleeved shirt. We all agreed we were warmer while cycling so we jumped back on and kept going. I had been 100% unfazed by the ride until the moment I got back on my bike and realized my thighs were definitely getting weaker.
After Queens we found ourselves riding through Greenpoint, Brooklyn and eventually Williamsburg along Kent Avenue. This is where the wind really began to pick up, so much that it was bringing my bike to a complete halt as I continued pedaling. This is also where I fell in love with DUMBO and for the first time ever imagined myself living in Brooklyn. I know, I even shocked myself.
Somewhere along the way right before we stopped so I could take a quick pee (which as it turns out I didn’t really have to take, my girly bits were just being fooled by the bike seat) Suzannah thought she’d channel her inner biker and throw some hand signals so those behind her knew to stop—and she wiped out. I felt bad that we didn’t even noticed and continued pedaling on without her, but she gracefully rejoined us with hardly a scratch.
ESB from the BQE
We were about halfway through Brooklyn when I took on the daunting task of simple math, calculating how many more miles until the finish line. The wind was really difficult to pedal against, I was freezing cold, and my lungs hurt from breathing in the cold air. But we kept going, and going, and going, right onto the BQE Expressway. A man at the entrance ramp cheered us on, shouting only “nine more miles to go!” That would’ve been great had most of those nine miles not felt like an onramp.
After I was thoroughly exhausted, tinkering along slowly against the wind, three of us girls who had managed to stick together came to a common realization at the same time. We were all in agreement that we’d be walking over the Verrazano Bridge together.
Riding on the BQEI can’t even believe this ad. In what world would a person who’s doing or considering doing drugs turn to rugs instead?Thanks MTA
Before we got to the Verrazano Bridge there was a tempting drop out point in which a good amount of people were actually taking to be driven over. But we continued onward.
The Verrazano is the massive bridge connecting Brooklyn and Staten Island. Its central span is 4,260 feet long, which is 60 feet longer than the Golden Gate Bridge, giving it the longest bridge span in the Americas. It also has no bike paths, so the only time you can ride across it on a bike is during the Five Boro Bike Tour each year.
So close, yet still so far away
I chugged some water, took some deep breaths, gave myself a little pep talk in my head, and started pushing harder. Now that I was there, I didn’t want to stop and walk. I wanted to power through. As I pedaled my way slowly up the on ramp I looked to see just how far until the middle point where we would begin to descend. It didn’t seem THAT far. I kept going.
I sure as hell did own this bridge!It doesn’t look THAT bad…
One by one people started to jump off their bikes and walk. I kept going. The wind picked up and the impossible climb got even more difficult. By now I’d lost everyone in my group once I watched the last girl dismount her bike.
There were all kinds of motivational quotes on the ground in bright paint, people on loudspeakers giving words of encouragement along the sidelines, and I could hear music up ahead. The higher I got, the more the wind picked up and the more I swerved. I could feel my bike moving perpendicular to the direction I was riding with each gust of wind, skidding me a few inches to the left each time it blew. The incline seemed endless and felt even worse than it looked. I got close enough to hear the song playing at the finish line, Empire State of Mind, and my mind started to reminisce about how far I’ve come living in New York for the past (almost) eight years. (Yes I’m a nerd.)
It only took a few verses and I passed the rather lackluster finish line.
Finally, I’d made it! I was done! Time to throw my bike and my body onto the grass and relax!
Almost there!Finish!
Not really.
I don’t really understand how they determined where to place the finish line, but it was deceiving. I figured it was all downhill from there, but the wind was so strong we were still pedaling at a snail’s pace for another 5-10 minutes or so before reaching the bottom of the bridge.
For a second I questioned whether or not they put this side here specifically for the bike tourView of Manhattan from the Verrazano Bridge
We made it to the park at the end where they were holding a festival full of free cheese and chocolate milk, fun music, and pricey food. We only sat down for like two minutes before realizing it was freezing ass cold, and we’d be much happier to just get on the ferry and back to the city ahead of the crowds (since we were still at the front-ish of the pack).
Glory gatesThe whole group reunited at the endWe stopped on the way to the ferry for a quick shot of lower Manhattan from Staten Island
Well after the finish line and the festival we had to get back on our bikes and ride about another 3 miles to the ferry, complete with a few more hills. By now all of our butts, thighs, wrists, hands, and backs were telling us to take a break.
Luckily they moved us swiftly right onto a ferry and immediately to Manhattan where we arrived near my old apartment on Wall Street. I led the group back to our office to drop off our bikes on my old bicycle route underneath the FDR, when suddenly I felt my back wheel completely drop out. It only took 40+ miles, but I got a flat tire and was riding on the rim. Ironically we were about 25 steps from a bike rental shop, so they let me use their pump after our group’s handheld one failed. Thankfully my tire held the air so I could finish the ride.
SHOULD YOU DO IT?
Yes! It’s so awesome to see the city from a bike in so many areas where they’re usually prohibited! And no, you don’t have to be overly active or in awesome shape to complete it, but it couldn’t hurt. It really wasn’t as brutal as I thought it was going to be, and though I struggled a bit for the last 10 miles or so, I didn’t have to quit.
Just make sure to ride a good bike, wear padded biking shorts, and perhaps most importantly START EARLY. If you’re in the front of the group you’re much, much more likely to have a better time. We only experienced congestion once while merging in Central Park and once at the mandatory rest stop, but the rest of the ride we were comfortably distanced from other riders. I’d heard about other groups being so backed up they had to get off and walk for like an hour. Also remember, it’s not a race so you can stop however often you need to refuel and hydrate along the way.
The ride takes place on the first Sunday in May every year, and tickets go on sale in January so be sure to keep an eye on the site well in advance as they do tend to sell out. I paid $90 for my general registration pass, but I think it was definitely worth it. The ride itself took about four hours for us to complete, including two stops (totaling about 30 minutes), but after the festival and ferry, it took about 5 1/2 hours total.
It’s March. The temperature’s finally above freezing (even if only for a couple of days), which means it’s almost tourist season in New York. So if you’re planning a trip while hoping to avoid “the angry New Yorker,” you might want to brush up on the laws of the land and catch up to the speed of the city.
Disclaimer: I’m not one of those self-righteous assholes who think the whole world revolves around New York, but I do understand the feeling of traveling somewhere and wanting to understand and respect the local culture, wherever that may be. And somewhere along the line, New York City became one of those places where many people want to fit right in.
LEARN HOW TO WALK Our sidewalks are like our highways. And most New Yorkers walk in the fast lane. It’s preferable you keep up, but if you have to walk slowly, don’t do it arms linked with your friends so that no one can pass. Just move to the right and give us room to pass.
PREVENT SWIPE ANXIETY To get around the city you’ll need to purchase a MetroCard unless you’re loaded with cab fare. For your own sake, it’s best you learn how to use it BEFORE you walk up to the turnstile, train waiting, during rush hour.
So have your card out and ready before you enter the turnstile. Know how to hold it properly (black strip facing inward, arrows pointing forward) and swipe in one decisive motion forward just like a credit card. There’s a little screen that’ll let you know whether it’s “OK” to pass through, or if you need to swipe again.
LEARN HOW TO USE THE TRAIN Use the subway whenever possible and you’ll save a fortune on cabs. But for your own good, do a bit of research beforehand and learn how the trains work so that you know how to tell if it’s an express (white circles on the map) or local train (black circles), and learn that Uptown trains [essentially] run to any stops North from where you’re at in Manhattan, and Downtown trains run South. Each train line runs in two directions, so if you see a station name such as “Pelham Bay Park” or “Coney Island,” you’ll know that’s the direction the train is heading. Just look at a map and see what end of the line that station is, and you’ll be sure that’s the way the train is headed. If you want to go in the opposite direction, just look for signs to that platform, which can sometimes be across the street.
Hopstop is a good app for that, but so is Google Maps. Just plug in where you want to go and choose the public transportation icon for easy step-by-step directions. But do that above ground, because you won’t get reception in most stations underground. Or you can just ask a New Yorker, because more often than not they’ll happily give you directions. It’s up to you to judge whether or not those directions are accurate.
LEARN PROPER SUBWAY ETIQUETTE Once you’re actually on the train, using common sense should get you by. But just in case you’re still worried, let’s discuss some of these.
– Wait for people to get off the train before you get on.
– Once you get on, move out of the doorway.
– If you get a seat, only take up the room necessary for one person. Pile your bags on your lap if you have to, don’t set them on the seat next to you.
– Don’t try and squeeze your XL ass into an XS space.
– Even if you’re good at balancing, hold onto something so you don’t go flying when the train suddenly jerks or stops.
– Clipping your nails can wait until you get back to the hotel room.
– Don’t lean on a subway pole, especially clenching it with your butt cheeks on a crowded subway. There’s only so much space people can grab onto, so please be considerate.
– Similarly, if you’re a guy and a girl (or anyone) has her hands far down on a pole, don’t lean your junk on her hand and think it’s okay.
– Sometimes you have to pack in and get super friendly with people. These also tend to be the times the train stalls between stations and the lights flicker. It’s normal. Just avoid eye contact and silently curse in your head like the rest of us.
SAVE THE SMALL TALK Reaching a food/drink counter to place an order is not the time for friendly chitchat. Know what you want, and be ready to pay for it—often times just like that Visa check card commercial where it’s like an assembly line and that one asshole pulls out cash to pay and screws everything up. This still throws me off when I leave New York and I start talking to the counter staff. I just feel guilty even when no one is waiting.
GET USED TO SMALL SPACES New York apartments are small. And if you’re staying with a friend who lives in a studio apartment, do not belittle it by constantly pointing out how small, old, etc. it is. We work hard and pay a lot to live in our apartments, and we’re kind enough to let you stay there rather than shelling out $200 a night for a hotel room, so shut up and enjoy it.
It’s a living room, dining room, bedroom, and home office in one!At least the dinner table is never far from bed.
GET OUT OF THE WAY Be mindful of where you stop and gawk. Taking photos is great, double checking your GPS, go for it. But just like you wouldn’t stop your car in the middle of the freeway to snap a picture of an exit sign, don’t do it in the middle of our sidewalks. Take a look at your surroundings then step off to the side so you’re out of the way.
GET THE HELL OUT OF MIDTOWN Don’t associate New Yorkers with the overcrowded chaos of Times Square and then bitch about how rude New Yorkers are. Times Square is nothing but tourists, so naturally, when you’ve got a bunch of different cultures and languages all moving around in one spot, shit’s about to be annoying.
Actually on second thought, maybe it’s a good idea to corral all the tourists in Midtown…
BRING MONEY Or at least a credit card that’s not maxed out. NYC is fucking expensive so be prepared to spend more on basically everything while you’re here. And don’t bitch about it to us or the cashier every time you pull out your wallet, because we already know. We deal with those prices every day while usually never making nearly enough money and paying three times your mortgage to rent out a closet. You’re on vacation, spend a little. And if you’re super cheap like me, supplement it with lots of free activities like walking across the Brooklyn Bridge, Central Park, or going to the Crocodile Lounge and getting a free pizza with every drink you purchase.
MIND CYCLISTS, AND STAY OUT OF THE BIKE LANE New York is a city with increasing bike traffic. And honestly, I never really paid much attention to cyclists until I became one myself. It’s unbelievable how many people completely ignore their right of way and then complain at how rude they are when they yell out “bike lane” to avoid a collision. So call them hipsters, delivery guys, douchebags, messengers, or whatever you want, but do them all a favor and stick to the sidewalks. Don’t walk or stop in the bike path, because despite what you may think, it’s not just another piece of pavement for you to roam freely. When you have to cross a green path, just give a quick look to make sure no cyclists are coming. And yes, you’ll definitely see parked cars, joggers, construction barrels, and oblivious texting pedestrians using the bike lane like their own private driveway, but don’t join them as one of those jerks.
DON’T BE A DICK ON A SHITI BIKE Speaking of bikes, if you’re going to rent a Citi Bike at least spend few minutes researching the bike rules and be prepared to be shit talked by those hardcore spandex-clad Lance Armstrong looking mother fuckers. Citi Bikes are part of a bike share program, intended for people to get from point A to point B within about 30-45 minutes. So no matter how many trips you take on your day pass, it’s not for you to rent out, go the wrong direction and completely fuck up the flow of NYC commuting. Just obey normal traffic laws, don’t ride even two wide on a narrow path, and well, if I were you I’d wear a helmet if you’re going to brave the streets. But I’m sure any New Yorker couldn’t care less if you go sans helmet.
IF YOU’RE LAZY, STAND TO THE RIGHT I feel like you’ve probably learned this one at your local mall by now. Some subway stations and buildings have escalators because otherwise you’d be hoofing it up approximately 4 million stairs. But unfortunately these things don’t move quick enough for the oh-so-busy New Yorker who knows that their strategic race up the stairs will get them to their next train right before the doors close. So if you’re just along for the ride, stand to the right. If the escalator isn’t wide enough for someone to pass you, make sure the people behind you aren’t walking up. If they are, then sorry you are now too, or you’re an asshole.
DON’T BRING A TON OF SHIT New York is a city of public transportation and walking, not one for lugging around your entire shoe collection for a weekend trip. And remember you’ll likely have to lug that thing up a few flights of stairs at some point or another. If you’re a chick or just a bit older or frail looking, a friendly man will more than likely offer to help lug your size ridiculous bag up or down the subway stairs. But wouldn’t we all just be much better off if you packed your shit in a small enough bag that can move freely along with you without clogging up the stairwell?
I think after visiting you’ll quickly realize that not all of us are self-deserving assholes who think the whole world revolves around us. Our lack of outgoing friendliness just comes down to the sheer amount of people we deal with every day. Personally I move through the city in my own little bubble, headphones on, completely lost in my own thought. I don’t even notice most of the faces I encounter every single day, and if I were to say hello or flash a quick smile to each of them I’d never get anywhere. But I do notice those who get in my way and mess up my flow.
It goes without saying that some people are just irrationally angry or giant assholes—the same can be said about any place. But in a city with such an enormous population, small spaces, and a live-to-work mentality, you’re bound to encounter some tightly wound people from time to time so just deal with it and move on. After all, most of us were tourists at some point or another anyway.
But perhaps the best way to fit in is to do whatever the hell you want and not be at all sorry about it. Your indecisiveness is holding up that super important suited up d-bag from making it to his meeting on time? Maybe he should’ve left earlier. Your Citi bike joy ride going the wrong way down Allen Street briefly jolted those riding the right way? Well maybe you should respond to them the way my old roommate did, yelling out a loud “FUCK YOU!” and continuing on your way.
Last weekend I went upstate to Saugerties, NY for a wilderness survival workshop with about 25 complete strangers. Sounds like a cold weekend of sleeping in piles of leaves, fighting off bears and wolves with flaming sticks, purifying my own urine until it’s safe to drink, and hunting down squirrels (or fellow survivalists) to tear apart their disease-ridden bodies in a bloodied frenzy, right? No, it wasn’t a Bear Grylls, “dump your ass in the middle of nowhere with nothing more than a knife and a compass” kind of thing. It was a “stay in a warm, cozy cabin with hot cooked meals and plenty of alcohol” kind of thing.
But I did still learn some valuable lessons, including how to track and kill rabbits, but let’s save that for a day when I’m not snacking on Annie’s Cheddar Bunnies while I write.
I give you 12 Lessons on How to Survive in the Wild in hopes that, if you’re anything like me, the number one thing you’ll learn is to surround yourself with a bunch of surviver-types any time you walk out your door.
Dinner being stretched to death. But more on that later.
1.Apparently I’m not as adventurous as I thought I was, since I’ve never looked at a table and thought “table bouldering.” The challenge is to start on top of the table, climb under it and back up the other side without touching the ground. Some went the width of the underside, while others attempted to do the whole length. Many tried, only a few succeeded. I watched.
2.If you didn’t succeed in climbing the rope in high school PE class, you probably won’t succeed in climbing a limbless tree. Unless you’ve got two guys to help push your ass up like I did. Plus most animals are better climbers than humans, so if a predator is chasing you like you’re a giant piece of steak, don’t climb a tree to escape it.
If you’re not running for your life, but instead just looking for some random “tree parachuting” fun, find a firm but bendy tree, wrap your thighs around that bitch, and pull yourself up inch by inch. Once the tree starts to bend towards the ground, let go of your feet and ride it down. Just don’t get one that’s too thick or you’ll end up 20 feet high with no bend in sight like Ed here, and you’ll have to slide down.
3. Hiking in complete darkness is not as difficult as you’d think once your eyes have a chance to adjust to the light. Although it’s not that easy either, since we couldn’t find our way back to the trail. It’s always better to build a shelter before dusk, stay put for the night, and set out again in the morning. (Or just turn your headlamps on and make your way back to the cabin like we did.)
4. Guns aren’t just good for hunting down your dinner. They’re even more fun to pass the time until someone finds you by shooting beer cans.
5. Any idiot can start a fire with a bunch of dry leaves, some sticks, and a book of matches.Even me. Keeping it going without getting bored or causing a forest fire is a different story. Smokey the Bear was right, “only you can prevent forest fires.” Sadly he does not come rushing in the second you do something stupid. So make sure you clear the ground of any possible tinder before building a fire, or you could end up causing an endless trail of flames when your shoddy teepee of sticks collapses.
6. Speaking of fire, it’s always a good idea to have a professional flame twirler (and a bottle of whiskey) on hand to keep warm. And for pure entertainment.
7. Most plants have medicinal properties. If I remember correctly, our instructor actually told us that all plants are medicinal, but I haven’t found any evidence online to support that. Either way, “most” still sounds like a gamble to me so unless it’s aloe or a dandelion, I don’t really know what to do with it. Side note (and I think I learned this back in like second grade) tobacco is highly medicinal, but sadly somewhere along the line us humans decided to use it for more harm than good. Bad humans, bad!
8. Apparently the only four types of plants you need to know when you’re lost in the wild are pine, oak, grass, and cattails. They’re all edible, versatile, and do lots of things that I can’t really remember. So if you’re curious, Google those four and you’ll see how to boil acorns for a hearty meal, cook cattails like corn on the cob, and even get a sort of “flour” from them. But I recommend when you’re out in the wild you wander your way to a Farmers Market and load up on some delicious treats like thick-cut bacon, homemade granola, pumpkin butter, and pumpkin cannolis. Just make sure you’ve got some cash because chances are they won’t take credit.
9. In extreme conditions where huddling with a group of strangers to battle hypothermia may be necessary, you can fit 14-16 grown adults in an 8-10 person hot tub if you really try.
10. You could build a simple “debris hut” with sticks and leaves just big enough to fit around your body to give you the warmth and shelter you need to make it through a cold night…
11. …but surviving in the wilderness is much easier when you retreat back to a cozy cabin with home-cooked meals every evening.
Not a bad view either
12. I would still definitely die if I was lost in the wilderness for more than two days. But I can survive the hell out of a weekend in a cabin with running water, electricity, and a hot tub!
Earlier this week I was walking across East 72nd Street when I noticed yellow leaves on the ground—something that’s easy to miss considering how few trees there are and how quickly the doormen of the fancy Upper East Side apartments spray the sidewalk clean first thing every morning. Even though it was 65 degrees that day, it finally hit me that it was fall. It also hit me that I’ve been in New York for eight autumns and have yet to make it up to New England to see the leaves change color. Hell, I haven’t even made it to Central Park to see the leaves until it was too late and the trees were already bare. So I decided right then and there that this was the year, and this was the weekend. I only live six blocks from one of the most scenic areas in the park, so I was going to grab my camera and set out for an afternoon exploring my neighborhood park, rather than continue taking it for granted.
I entered at 72nd and Fifth Ave and walked across to the Mall, Bethesda Terrace, and then the lake to snap some pictures of the Bow Bridge before making my way to Strawberry Fields. It smelled like decaying leaves and wet grass which was like a breath of fresh air compared to the city streets. Thankfully it rained for about 10 minutes which sent a bunch of tourists scrambling for cover and out of my shots. I struggled not to take a photo with every step, but it was even more colorful than I imagined, and further proof that fall is the best season in New York.
Let’s face it, neither words nor pictures can do any justice for actually experiencing it yourself, but here are some of the better shots I took. Enjoy!
Down came the rain and washed the tourists out (or in?)
I have so many European tales, photos, and videos to share, yet I’ve been procrastinating. Big time. Mostly because of the bullshit “I’m too busy” excuse. When you’re slammed at work writing well over eight hours a day, the last thing you want to do when you get home is write some more. Also my lease was up September 1st so I had to deal with a bit of an unplanned move. If you’ve ever moved in NYC you know just how overwhelming, time consuming, and stressful that can be.
But it all worked out for the best and I’ve since moved from my three-roommate share to my very own studio apartment. Finally, my own place, a good job, a pretty active social life, and the ability to travel a decent amount. I’ve officially got everything I ever wanted since I set out to New York City seven years ago.
My new teeny tiny studio apartment in New York City
Despite all of this, I’ve never felt more unfulfilled, and therefore uninspired to write. So I’m in the long and confusing process of trying to figure out what’s next.
A little backstory; I set my sights on New York when I was only 16. It took me five years of saving and busting my ass with work and school, and when I moved here I was hardly living the New York life I’d always dreamed of. I was struggling in every sense of the word, but I was making progress on my dreams and that was the best feeling in the world. Throughout several ups and downs, wins and losses, I continued to struggle. But I was always optimistic that some day it would all pay off.
Then in February 2011 I landed the job that I have now and everything started to get better. I was working at a great place with great people, doing work I’d always wanted to do, and I had the opportunity of working abroad from our London office on the horizon. In a sense, my professional life was flourishing—finally. And as a result, I was financially able to leave the crumbling relationship I’d been trapped in and move into a luxury building on Wall Street. Sure my friends made fun of me for living amongst “the suits,” but at the end of the day I was 26 and living in a fancy building on Wall Street. For a girl from Ohio, I was doing pretty damn good on paper.
Being able to say I lived on Wall Street was a great conversation piece as I traveled around the world. It made me feel like maybe I had finally made it, though I still cringed when I had to admit that I was 26 or 27 and had two roommates. Plus I didn’t like the prejudice associated with living on the same street as some of the most corrupt, money-hungry assholes in America. After all, I’m a t-shirt and jeans kinda gal.
Lower Manhattan, my old neighborhood when I lived on Wall Street
So when I moved into my own place it was a very proud moment. A milestone some would say. This is all I’ve ever wanted in New York City, to be financially stable enough to sign my own lease—just me, no roommates, no guarantors or cosigners— and just have my own little slice of one of the greatest cities in the world.
And now here I sit in my studio knowing that “I’ve made it,” but feeling completely detached from everything here. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret any decision I’ve ever made and I’m very grateful and proud that I’ve come this far. But I keep wondering what’s next now that I’ve accomplished everything I’ve been working towards for the last 12 years. Clearly I’ve grown a lot over the past twelve years, and this older, supposedly wiser me doesn’t want the same things that a younger me of even just a few years ago wanted.
Especially since I’ve gotten back from London in May, I’ve found myself regularly questioning things like:
— Why am I still in New York? The whole “I live in New York” novelty has lost its appeal. I could care less about parties, celebrities, or fashion. I don’t have money to eat at any of the world-class restaurants or buy designer clothes, and I absolutely despise the 4AM nightlife and clubs. Not to mention I’ve been here for seven years and while I have made many acquaintances, I definitely don’t feel like I’ve acquired many lasting relationships.
— Is it New York that’s pissing me off, or is it my career choice? Sure there’s never a dull moment in advertising which certainly fits my easily-bored ADD-like personality, but is this really what I should be doing with my writing talents? Or should I be using my creativity to solve real problems and help people in need, or at the very least write about something a bit more meaningful?
— Why do I keep convincing myself that it’s okay to fork over this much money each month to rent a studio apartment, just because it’s in New York City? I could fly to the other side of the world once a month for the price I pay in rent here.
— Why do I own a couch? Okay this is a weird one because sure I need it to fill the space, but it’s just a random clunky thing that’s going to be a pain in the ass when it comes time to move again. I guess I don’t like the idea of owning anything other than a computer and a camera because then things feel more permanent, and well, I don’t want that.
— Am I going to be like this forever, constantly pushing myself to find “what’s next?” Or will I eventually grow out of this and find myself happy and content with what I’ve got? Because if not, I could see this shit being really exhausting.
While these questions keep racing through my mind, I can be grateful that the “I want to settle down and start a family” bug hasn’t hit me like it has most of my friends (and hopefully it never will). But in recent years I have started to notice the lack of meaningful relationships I have in my life. I know that’s partially my fault, but it also has to do with the fact that I feel like I’m not meeting very many people with similar upbringings, values, interests, or goals, so it’s hard to relate or get too close to anyone. I guess it’s a good thing because that makes it even easier to pack up and go, but I’m still convinced it’s a bad sign when you’ve lived in a place for seven years and still haven’t developed (m)any meaningful relationships.
The bottom line is that I’ve spent a lot of time and hard work to get to where I am and as a result I think I’m burnt out. It’s making me lazy and I’m losing some of my ambition. I wish that I could postpone my student loan payments, pay off my credit card debts, sell everything I own, and travel the globe for like a year. Maybe that would lead me to somewhere else with an actual purpose for being there. And if not I’d come back and settle down on the West Coast like I’ve always dreamed of doing “once I got older.” I know that if I did it’d be a huge risk, and while I definitely wouldn’t look back and regret my decision, would it ruin my credit, put me further in debt, and make me worse off upon my return to the US? Probably.
So here I am, lost in New York City. As far as I’m concerned I’ve made it here, so now I can make it anywhere, right? But where? And more importantly, why there? The world is mine to choose from, I guess it’s just a matter of finding a place that’ll give me what I want next. Now I’ve just got to figure that out.
Have you ever been in a situation like this? What did you do? I’ve always been the type to plan things out and work towards them, but now it just seems like a waste of time. I just want to go somewhere and deal with things as they happen. But I’ve signed this lease until September 2014, so I’ve got some time to figure it out.
I’m off to join nearly a million others in saying farewell to 2010 in the center of the universe—Times Square. This is my third time braving the crowds on New Years Eve, and each time I swore I’d never do that again.
So to everyone all around the globe, I hope you have a wonderful evening, and an even better 2011! Looking forward to new adventures and new experiences in the coming year(s)!
Tuesday I woke up ready to hit the beach with Mike’s family. Too bad the weather was just a tad bit chilly. It wasn’t too bad on the beach, but the ocean was ice cold. It was a nice, lazy day of taking pictures for me. And even better to sleep in a real bed at night, without having to pay for a hotel.
As always, you can check out more pictures on my Flickr.
