Starting Over

I walk down the streets of the city so alien and yet so strangely familiar. My eyes are heavy from sleep deprivation, my mind racing in a million directions with things that I have to do to re-establish myself here. In Toronto. My new home for now.

Four hours after landing I have a cell phone and a new bank account. When filling out the forms for the new account it hit me – the U word: “UNEMPLOYED”. Although it’s been all of two weeks since I have officially been unemployed, and it was my choice to do so, and all of this happened in a different country and I do have interviews lined up, there is always that nagging insecurity that six months down the road I’ll be without work. There is the nagging insecurity now that I have no more money coming into my bank account so my credit card bills are getting higher and my bank balances are getting lower. Not a pretty situation. That is always the risk with moving I suppose.

I navigate the subway system with reasonable success, watching the tin-can like trains pulling in and out of stations. They all seem uniform unlike New York where they come in a variety of shapes, sizes and inevitably marked with some colorful expression. I ride the Yonge-University-Spadina line at rush hour and see something akin to what I’m used to: the crowds, the multi-ethnic mix, the I-pods. Nothing quite compares to those flushing bound 7 trains though. The announcements are clearly articulated, never mumbled. There is no local or express. The whole thing is geared to be user friendly. Which is weird. To me at least.

Everyone seems friendlier. Really friendly. In fact, when en-route to an interview this morning I found myself at Yorkdale subway station with no clue of which direction I was going, a helpful bus driver wrote down the address and dropped me right across the street. They smile, they say thank you, and I notice their accents ten times more. I do miss the harsh gruffness of New Yorkers but this is a nice change. They’re not overly friendly to the point where it’s uncomfortable, but you may have the occasional person actually speak to you in an elevator.

Overall it’s been a good two days. On Sunday I move into my sublet for the summer which is in Kensington Market. I’ve heard good things but this is kind of like the first time I moved to New York. So many familiar names but no meaning attached to them. I am looking forward to discovering more and associating names with memories and meaning. I am looking forward to the next few months.

For My Friends...

It has been a long time since I last posted - exactly a month! So much has happened, and in a way a previous post of mine fore-shadowed the whole thing. In seven days I am leaving New York. Wow.

This is a place that has given me such wonderful things and surrounded me with some of the best friends I've ever had. They say a city like this grows on you, gets it's claws deep into you and before you know it you can't remember why living anywhere else was so great. Yet when I look back four years ago, to when I first found out I was moving down here, I remember being surprisingly numb about the whole experience. Absence makes the heart grow fonder but as my memories of a place grow weaker will I forget? I have forgotten much of what held me in Montreal, and maybe I'll forget much of what held me here.

But here was different, here was alive, here was full of life. I have met people here that I really care about and that really care about me. I've met people that will let me pour my heart out to them at any opportune moment, and know when a hug or comforting words is the right thing to say or do. I've met people that are sad to see me leave and I'm sad to leave. In a way, it is the greatest gift one could ever ask for. To love and be loved, not only in the romantic sense of the word but to find people who truly understand who you are and what you need.

I am grateful for the friendship and the good times, and to those I'm leaving I say only this - nothing in life is permanent or absolute; you never know what the future might hold. I will miss you all, but I'm not going that far nor am I intending to stay there the rest of my life. But this is what is best for right here and right now and I'm so happy that you understand that so well. Thank you for giving me a fantastic four years.

Thoughts of Toronto and other distant places

Sitting in the Taxi at 1am this morning, approaching Downtown Toronto I was pensive. This is the city of my birth, and has followed me on every visa application, every immigration form and a large number of different forms I've had to fill out over the course of time. I only lived here till l I was 3 (which is when we moved back to India), and when I returned to Canada many years later, I moved instead to Montreal. Toronto has never held that much meaning for me personally. It never could hold as much for me as for my parents who lived here for 8 years during the 1970s.

At one point last year, I considered moving to Toronto to work. I had a few interviews, but nothing ever panned out. I got to walk around the city a bit, but didn't have much of a feel of the city even then. I often wonder what it would be like...to move again. Could Toronto be a place I would grow to love? Would I grow to learn every nook, every cranny? Up till this point, I have never felt very emotionally connected to the place. It granted me Canadian Citizenship, it was a place my parents were very fond of, but other than that it was not somewhere I thought about. Then again, I had no emotional connect to New York when I moved, and I grew to love it. New York has been very good to me, much better than Montreal, a city that I loved at first sight. Toronto could be the same way. Slow to warm to me.

Not that I am planning a move any time soon. But it definitely got me thinking. What about people that will never move out of their county? Or off their street? The thing for me was my lack of choices, especially being a Canadian in the United States. To get a good job, I was willing to move to Texas, to Ohio or to Oregon for the right position. I had to be open, I was forced to be open. But then, is that such a bad thing? I hear people say they would not live in place X or place Y, or they would DEFINITELY never want to live in place Z. Sometimes I doubt these people have even visited the places they look at with such disdain. I guess you make a choice - to be open or not. You make a choice as to how open you are. But is it really such a good idea to deny something you have never tried? And is it bad to choose not to try?

I don't know the answer. But I do know this...I want to be open. I want to feel free to make choices, and not scorn that which I do not understand. It's the best way to learn, and in some circumstances the only way. I learned more about who I was in a foreign country than I ever did at home. Distance gives you perspective and a different kind of wisdom. It gives you something much deeper than that. It gives you truth.

Anger & The Art of Letting Go

It is a truly beautiful feeling when one is able to let go of anger. When you look back and you see that where you felt so much frustration and resentment, you feel nothing really. Just nostalgia for times past, and another chapter of life over. When you can forgive and not necessarily forget.

Forgiving without forgetting is actually the key to it all. If someone is disrespectful and insensitive to you once, there is a fair chance they'll do it again, given the opportunity. There are those whose only means of feeling better about themselves are to put down the others around them. They seek people that are sensitive, that accept their friendship with no questions asked and no pre-conditions. Then they will push their limits as far as they will go. This is not because they are bad people or ill-intentioned by nature, this is simply the way they feel relationships work best. At one time, I seemed to have an affinity for these types of people. Now, that I can recognize their symptoms, I'm a little bit better at keeping my distance. The point is, when you end up in a situation with a person like this, be it a romantic relationship or friendship based one, you feel frustrated and trapped. If pushed to the boiling point, you may cut off contact with them completely, avoid them or argue with them to assert yourself. The only problem I have ever had with this, is after a little bit of distance they seem to change their behavior to make it more respectful, for a time. And then, as soon as you let them in again their true colors once again begin to show.

I look back and I'm very happy to say that I hold nothing towards any of these individuals in my life. I remember who they are, and I remember why we are no longer friends. But I don't wish them anything bad, I don't hold on to the anger, I just hope that they find whatever it is they are looking for. The fact of the matter is this: if you find yourself in a bad situation with a friend or a significant other, remember this - it takes two to tango. If your relationship has become a certain way, you yourself have played a part in letting it become that way. You are the only one who can change the situation. The more you feel like the victim, the more you'll feel a situation is hopeless, and the worse you'll feel about yourself. And those circumstances make it much harder to assert yourself in any or all of your dealings with others.

Transitioning to the working world

I feel that I have been studying forever and always looking at each situation as a temporary pause before what's next. After 7 months of full-time work I am finally realizing that this is it. No more full-time school (at least for the next few years or so), no more flexible schedule, no more learning. Now I am finally in my career. Which feels very strange. It's taken me awhile to grow into this new role of working, of having responsibilities, accountability and bosses to report to, but I have to say it's starting to grow on me. I have to learn to live with making mistakes (and while nobody likes mistakes, I hate hate hate them - I totally obsess over them), and I have to learn to really learn from them. I have to learn that it never ends, not like the end of a semester, final exams, projects, papers that I can just say what I have to and put it behind me. I need to be able to constantly work to get better, fine tune all that I do, and grow. Sometimes the world of work can make one feel so immature and unexposed. Especially in a career-oriented role. But I feel like I can overcome this, like this is just one more thing to learn, to build upon. I feel like there is finally direction, and I'm finally getting somewhere.

A Perfect Stranger

There's a man that sings in the Grand Central Station Subway every morning between 8 and 8:30 am. Every morning he gets up, goes to that very same spot, between the entrance to the 7 train & the entrance to the shuttle to Times Square and sings. He sings of God, of love, of positivity. And every single morning, as I walk past, in spite of the fact that I don't understand much of what he says, I smile a little inside. In a city where there is so much bitterness, frustration and anger, here is one man that gets up to spread the word about something positive. He doesn't tell you that hell and the apocalypse is near, nor does he tell you that it is time to repent. He just sings merrily away and says "thank you" to those that drop change in his box. It's like I can depend on him to bring a little spirit into every morning, no matter how tough my week has been, no matter how unforgiving my sorrows, no matter how weary my over-caffeinated body is, somehow his getting up to do that helps mend my own spirit. And although I have only left money in his box once, I say a little prayer every time I walk past him, that his day is good and whoever he is & whatever his own worries are, that they are eased quickly and painlessly. I have him to be thankful for every morning, because he helps me start my day out right. It's funny how a perfect stranger can do that and have no idea what they mean to you.

Diverging Paths...

It's interesting how people's lives take so many different turns in so many different directions. One may be 45, single, and not interested in otherwise, or one might be 22 and looking for a life-long commitment. One may be a 24-year old investment banker at work till 2 am, or a 29-year old professional student, still trying to stall getting into the real world. I work in a company where the majority of employees are married, some with kids and/or pregnant. These people are not much older that myself, but for me - motherhood is something for the distant future - and not for now. To imagine being a mother now is just insane, I am barely getting my life together, let alone the ability to care for another. For them - it's what they want, and they need right now. It's so funny how two different realities can both be right, in their own ways, for different people.

I know people who have changed directions, done a 360 and ended up in a completely different place from what they first expected.This scenario is very much true of my own life. I started off in a very academic school - incredibly challenging, full of brilliant young minds - the promise of tomorrow's future. Ironically enough, graduating from there got me nowhere. I was a restless mind in search of occupation. It took going to a school, so dumbed down from where I first started, a curriculum that was a joke compared to what I was used to, and being classmates with a bunch of giggly over-dressed-at-8am girls to actually start a promising career. And that's just the way it worked out. For some, fashion was never not an option. For me, it was a shot in the dark - a hope against hope that I would find some direction. Even within my classmates I found many different realities. Some had never left home, and those, like me, who had been away many many years. Some still have never strayed far, yet others have travelled the world and back.

What guides these paths? Is it out individual choices? Is it fate, or destiny? Or perhaps more likely it is a combination of both. Sometimes I feel bad for the 45 year old that still lives with room-mates in a city apartment, or the person who is searching for their soul-mate at 23, or for 34 year old student who can never seem to focus. But then I take a step back and I realize that their choices and their paths are what's right for them, and although mine may be something very different altogether, it is not my place to decide what makes them happy or unhappy. I can never understand their reality, and they can never understand mine.

Strange things that I am afraid of...

As I have gotten older, (not that I am all that old yet), I have developed several different fears of ordinary and mundane everyday things - both alive and not. Some are normal, and others are just bizarre. The funniest thing is that some of them have a very strong base, while others are completely random and I have no idea how they developed.

Small spaces bother me. The claustrophobia has been there for a few years - dating back to when I lived in Montreal. Revolving Doors also scare me. As soon as I enter a revolving door, I feel the overwhelming urge to escape. Like I'm going to get trapped in there. I am also incredibly afraid of heights. Escalators, steep stairwells and cliffs make me tremble. I have to look at my feet when going up and down escalators because if I look straight ahead or down towards the bottom of the escalator, my knees go weak. These are my normal fears - there are plenty of claustrophobic and acrophobic people. But read on for some of my stranger fears...

I fear Ivy branches (just the branches not the leaves), on buildings. They look like capillaries on the surface of someone's skin, and completely creep me out. They look like disease to me, like the repitition of shapes. Beehives also scare me - all those hexagons so close together make me a little queasy. Make me want to grit my teeth very close together and squeeze my eyes shut tightly. Also pistachio nut shells in great numbers...one time in Florence, my roommate had thrown away a whole bunch, and they terrified me! It's that repition of shapes, almost scaly in nature, that freaks me out.

I never used to fear birds...until Florence. Italy seems to have been the root of most of my fears - many of them contracted from my ex-roommate who, in addititon to pigeons, feared raw meat, mayonnaise, yoghurt and several other foods that one might consider normal. Also rodents. I don't share any of these other fears...although cream off the top of milk really bugs me if I accidentally drink it...I can't stand the taste! It's slithery...like a snake and is very very creepy. However, I somehow became afraid of pigeons. They have no fear in New York, they'll come right up to you at lunch hour in the park, greedily pecking for crumbs - the disgusting mooches that they are. Then they flap - and that's what makes me afraid - like they're going to flap at me or peck my eyes out. I think the flapping scares me more...

I've been thinking a lot about fears and what makes us fear. Why is it good to fear and when is it bad? Fear allows us to be cautious, to think before we act and avoid the blindness of impulse. On the other hand it can paralyze us and interfere with some very important parts of our life. When it starts to impede the things that matter most to us - it is then that we must act, to eliminate their force from our life. These are times when we must choose fight over flight. Face the problem and find a solution.

Hope

A light to shield the darkness,

To engulf it in warm rays

Of dreams, of things desired,

Of words whispered and long

Forgotten, in dusty old

Wooden music boxes, of

Healing splinters that dig deep

Into your flesh dripping drops

of blood, of voices fading

Into the distance, and the

Ear that strains to draw them

Closer, of caresses soft

And far away, but brought into

Being,

In an instant,

A thought,

A moment.

Rain

Rain is such a beautiful thing. Watching the storms this weekend, I thought about how powerful it is. Rain, the setting for so many hindi film songs, weather of passion and romance, yet also of solitude and darkness. There is nothing better than sitting with a steaming mug of hot chocolate or tea inside, and watching the storm. Yet, there is nothing worse during a morning (or evening) rush hour commute. For some reason, whenever it rains outside, it rains inside on the 7 train platform at Grand Central. I have never quite figured out why it floods inside when there is a perfectly good roof protecting it & the relatively dry lexington avenue line right above it, but you can't do anything abut it, so you just go with it. The rain has a sense of cleansing, of purifying and of washing clean. It is all these things and more. It is a God send to the farmers of India - the coming of the monsoons...and for those of us in more urban settings - it is the cooling of the tremendous heat that melts the flesh off our bones like sticky chocolate that has been left out in the sun. For some, it signals worse weather up ahead - for those who have to worry about hurricanes or other natural disasters. It is ruthless & kind all at once - it is full of contradictions. For others still it may have more personal meanings...memories of things past & looking forward to all that is to come. The rain is simultaneously one of my favorite & least favorite things. And this is why it is amazing.

More about friends...

I've been doing a lot of thinking about relationships...friendships in particular. What separates true friendship from acquantainces, how you negotiate disagreements and anger, personal weaknesses and irritations and the host of other things that come with clashes of personality. As I said in a previous entry, friendships are not like romantic relationships nor are they like family. Friends are not people you have to keep around, you can change them without guilt or hesitation. For good reason of course.

My area of thinking tonight is personal weaknesses and how they affect your relationships. How far do you let someone let their personal weaknesses or issues affect your relationship with them? Sometimes people let their insecurities or weaknesses shape their interaction with others around them. How much of that is ok? Can too much of it be abusing the relationship? Where does it become abuse? Where does a personal quirk become an inconvenience, an irritation in itself or something you just can't take anymore? How much can you push your friends to take from you? Friends are weird that way. They will be with you before and after the worst of romantic relationships, the worst of family battles, yet they are not necessarily closer than the significant others or the family. I feel like everyone deserves a chance, but at a certain point enough is enough. You have to treat those around you with a certain amount of respect - which involves a certain amount of surface level behaviour as well as a certain amount of loyalty. You need to treat those around you with dignity, no matter how bad the circumstances. You need to be their friend without judgement, without condition, and be able to accept them whole - the way they are - with flaws and mistakes. But when does it get to the point where you can no longer accept them that way? When you realize you no longer have anything in common with them, and your friendship was limited to certain circumstances and situations? This is a sticky issue. Everyone has their own way of deciding what is or is not acceptable. Usually childish is the "unfriending" - the divorcing or breaking up with friends. I once was "unfriended" over email - a double whammy as any kind of breakup over email is lame...but a friend one is even worse. Anyways this is just a thought I thought I'd throw out there...just because :)

Grey Spaces

I've discovered that when it comes to relationships, I don't like grey areas. I like it black and white. We like each other or we don't. We are polite to each other or we're not. I don't feel the need to be best friends with everyone, but I don't like feeling forced to be nice to those I don't. This gets especially complicated when it comes to your girlfriends.

I am someone with a very high tolerance for taking crap from people. Not that that's something to be proud of, but I will let people push me and push me until I can't stand them anymore. Then I have no choice but forced separation from the guilty party until I forget why I was angry. The problem is I don't stay mad very long. Not that that's a flaw, since holding grudges is not the healthiest thing you can do. But I tend to forgive & forget TOO easily. When I forgive it's fine. When I forget it's not. Inevitably the person will start over, realizing that I will be nice for a little while and push and push till I can't take it anymore. Then again the period of limited contact, a punishment that never teaches it's lesson.

As I was saying - the good thing about crap in a romantic relationship - YOU CAN BREAK UP. Breaking up with friends is not so easy. When do you reach the point that you cannot go on? When do you 'break up'? When do you forgive? When do you forget? There are a few qualities I cannot stand in people. Dishonesty & a lack of respect for me and others around them are major issues, as are rigidity in thinking and immaturity. You can't break up with a friend like you break up with a boyfriend or girlfriend. Sometimes people drag you down. I can think of several examples of people I don't want to spend too much time with because inevitably, time after time, it comes to the same end. Sometimes people use you to make themselves feel better. You become the ugly or fat friend on a night out, you become the person they put down all the time to boost their own ego, or they just need to hear themselves talk. The problem is, sometimes there are good people out there who aren't great for you. These form grey spaces. They work for some people and don't work for others. They work well with you in some situations and don't in others. How do you negotiate this? Where do you draw the line? How do you forgive without forgetting? Forgiveness is a sign of maturity, but forgetting is a sign of stupidity. The point is, although each relationship is unique, when it's someone you either like or dislike you know how to act; it's easier to know how to act. When it's someone whom you both like and dislike, in different ways, it will all depend. On you.

Writing & Truth

Writing is a funny thing...you kind of just need to let the words come. I was thinking about this as I was killing time on my day off this past monday, sitting at the Barnes & Noble on 45th Street & 5th Avenue. There can be no shame in writing, there is room only for honesty. Openness, no guilt. Guilt covers and attempts to hide true sides of self that are concealed in our everyday intereactions. Writing seeks to draw these hidden places, these secret thoughts and shamed feelings out, set them free and expose them for what they are. Pure truth, based on perspective, but but truth all the same. There can be many truths, many realities, many versions of fact. But no matter what truth is, and what lies within the soul, it is the core of the self that shrouds it. It is meaning and must be set free. Sometimes when I have major writers block I realize that part of it is due to the fact that I am not being true to myself - I'm trying to create something that isn't really me. Writing after all should be you - always you and never anything false or feigned.

Moving...arghhhh!!!

So I'm moving in 5 days...well less than 5. My life has been a blur for the past few weeks - looking at place after place (which in New York City is not uncommon), talking to agents pushing horribly depressing apartments using terms such as "great", "beautiful" & "bright" when what they should be saying is "depressing", "dark" & "dirty". So I finally found a place I like - a one-bedroom in Sunnyside, a block away from the subway, 20 minutes from work & close to shopping, amenities etc. etc. I worked with a great agent who helped me get approved very quickly and I signed the lease last Thursday.

After the lease it was time to pack. So three suitcases and three boxes later, my apartment is finally starting to look empty. Well a little...you never really know how much stuff you have until you have to put it all into enclosed compartments and move it! Of course the day I decide to go get boxes at Staples it is the begining of UN week, President Bush is in town AND there is a massive protest going on right outside Grand Central Station, where I get on the subway. My muscles are sore (I'm not sure why, until today I have been packing clothing) and I am exhausted, but the work is finally starting to get done. Then there are all the accounts to be cut off, all the addresses to be changed, mail forwarding and all that.

In a way the whole experience is therapeutic. It gives you a chance to clean up your life and your posessions - and keep yourself organized...which is not a bad thing. I am excited about the move, and the beginning of a new chapter of my life.

Remembering 9/11

Visiting the World Financial Center the other day, and staring into Ground Zero gave me the chills. I was living in Montreal at that time, quite well removed from any sort of threat or connection. It all seemed unreal; scary like the world was ending, on one hand, and too catastrophic to be true, on the other, - something out of War of The Worlds or Independence Day. Not something that was actually happening in New York City to real people with real families and lives. Now, being so close to it, it really started to hit home. I didn't lose anyone as a result of the attacks, Thank God, but as the 5 year anniversary neared, it was all the media seemed to be talking about. Getting the first respondents medical help, how the victim's families are now, the war on terror and much much more. While politics aren't quite my cup of tea, real stories and real human suffering are things that you don't have to have a lot of experience with to understand. I think about the people that woke up that morning, getting ready for work as usual like any other day, not knowing that it would be the last time they walked out the door, the last time they sat at their desk, the last time they saw their families. I think about the people aboard those planes, unsure of their destiny, the point at which they were fairly certain they were going to die. I think of their loved ones, waiting at home desperately not wanting it to be true. The fact of these emotions all felt within the span of one day, is almost too much to wrap one's head around. At the Anne Frank House in Amsterdam, there was something that said that it was impossible for us to fathom the type of suffering that victims of tragedies like this have suffered. Our minds do not have the capacity to think that way. I think that's true, because I cannot even begin to comprehend how many families this shattered, and how many people were left heart-broken without the ones they loved. I hope that some good can come of all the suffering that took place 5 years ago, in one form or another.

The New Dating Game

It's interesting to see how dating games have evolved over the years. You think back to three girls or guys with the 'date' on the other side of a screen. He or she does not see faces but asks questions of the others, assigns them little projects (make me a valentines day gift or tell me how you'd plan a romantic evening). Today we are in the era of the Bachelor, Bachelorette, Joe Millionaire, and so on and so forth. I had the opportunity today to see a part of Flavor of Love, where Flavor Flav is looking for love.

Here's the thing though. Today's dating 'game' if you will is much more intricate and much more complex. These shows have a ton of contestants who actually get to interact with the "prize". In some instances this interaction leads to non-G rated activities that only serve to add to the intrigue. Mind you I watched most of this without sound (with captioning on) as I was at the Gym, but it definitely got me thinking about the type of person that would go on a reality dating show. There is nothing wrong with being the center of it - you're the prize, the ultimate, you're what everyone wants. But when it comes to being a contestant...what kind of people do this? Particularly when it's a bunch of women after a man. There is back-stabbing, gossip and non-stop cattiness. I guess some people like that stuff.

What struck me is this - Flav is not that attractive a guy. Not by my standards. Sure he's famous, sure he's whatever else he's supposed to be - but how far would I go to win his affections?? Probably not all that far. Doesn't help I don't find him particularly attractive, but even for a handsome person I wouldn't go that far. He has them work in his favorite restaurant cutting open chickens, serving people they don't know and doing all sorts of weird things just for a chance to have a date with him. Everything that someone else does for him is a personal affront to all the others, and rather than looking at him and deciding he is not worth the energy they squabble and bitch and practically scratch each others eyes out. Why why why?? What's the point? I don't get it at all! Sure it's great to be "the winner", but every woman acts like she was with him first and the others came into the picture later. He doesn't have to be with any of them, but they don't need to be with him! It's a little silly if you think about it. With Joe Millionaire - sure it's the money. But the Bachelor? The Bachelorette? Why are they so special? Food for thought...nothing more than that :)

Disclaimer

I just wanted to mention something about the post below...I am fine. It is only due to events that transpired recently in my life, that prompted me to think about what it was I really wanted, and the people I really wanted to spend my time with. It was also inspired partly by the weekend at Dippikill with the wonderful people that were there. There are certain people who find it difficult to be anything but negative about others around them and anything that does not work for them. I find this not only annoying but a sign of weakness in character. I feel that you should believe in your friends, and believe in the fact that they know what they're doing. Eventually somehow they figure it out. If they are doing something really stupid then you talk to them. You don't just talk to your other common friends about them - if you're truly worried then you take the chance and confront them. It was not specifically in regard to me, but just a general habit that this person has. This person finds it hard to say a good thing about anyone. And I don't like hearing negative things said about people who consider this person a friend. And if something was said about me, then that was just the icing on the cake. That's all.

But mainly I just needed to vent. Now that it's off my chest I'm fine, and I feel stronger knowing that others share my opinions. So if it seems like I'm in a bad place I'm not really - I just really had some time to think about the kind of people I want to be around.

Beyond Manners...

Often times we find out about what we like from experiencing something we don't like. As Melkorka said in her blog, manners are sexy. There's another thing that's sexy and often times very under-rated, and that's honesty. And a general positive attitude towards life. I feel that these things mean more to me in a person than any other superficial qualities. Relationships are funny though. There's a lot to be said for circumstance. Something can work perfectly in one situation but far from perfectly in another. Things change as do people. Situations, insecurities and ideas change and our perceptions of those around us change. I wonder if it is that we simply don't realize this different side to these people, or they do in fact change. In reality I feel it is probably a combination of both.

Getting back to honesty and positivity, it really means something if the people around me are honest about how they feel, or what they say. Positivity goes even further, only if it is indeed honest. You have to give your friends a certain benefit of doubt, a certain vote of confidence, despite their flaws and personal imperfections. What bothers me beyond anything else is judgment. There is never any need to judge anyone else, to look down on others when you don't yourself understand everything that is involved in their situation. It is not only a huge turn-off but also mindless and indicative of lack of understanding about anything. And much like Melkorka did, I want to thank the people in my life that have this positivity about them, that accept me as I am, and that tell me how they really feel when something bothers them. That, in my opinion, is true friendship. And that type of relationship can cross boundaries of fights, arguments and disagreements, because while those are a normal part of any relationship(romantic or otherwise) true friends can surpass these boundaries and always see past this to the other side. And that is a beautiful thing.

p.s. check out melkorka's blog on "Manners are sexy" - it's definitely food for thought!

Getting out to Nature

A glimpse at the Adirondacks

I went camping upstate in the Adirondacks this weekend and all I can say is that I’m addicted. I have not missed a place like I miss Dippikill after such a short trip. Usually by the third, fourth, fifth day away I’m starting to get ansy. There were about ten of us up there in two cabins. Our cabin had a huge green area outside of it with a grill and a picnic table – perfect for barbeque. We went hiking and canoeing – I had never been canoeing before. It’s a lot more work than it looks! We sat under the stars, which I have never seen as clearly as I saw up there. There were so many stars that I honestly couldn’t tell one constellation from the other. Hmmm…then again every constellation looks like either Orion or the big dipper to me. I guess astronomy’s not a career choice then…damn. But that aside, I had a really wonderful time with some very wonderful people. I also saw a tremendous variety of mushrooms, and anyone who knows anything about me knows I’m more than slightly obsessed with mushrooms. I got into eating mushrooms only because I thought they were cute, and now I just love them J Anyways the point is I can’t wait to go back. There’s nothing like a change of pace for a weekend or two, especially with the hot New York City summers. The poem below is inspired from the weekend – when I was sitting in the middle of a pond in a canoe and neglecting my rowing duties ;). I would highly recommend it to anyone who wants to get out of the city for a few days – it’s totally worth it. The picture above is taken on one of our hikes courtesy of Erin's Myspace Page. Or flickr or something. Enjoy!

Subway Thoughts

There was an interesting article in this morning’s AM New York on the subway system, which rated the trains on a scale of the $2.00 you pay for a one – way trip. Although AM New York is not the highest on the scale of journalistic talent, it is free and an easy grab on the way to the station in the morning. And I never feel too bad if I only get to read one article because the train is too packed. But I digress…the truth is it made me think about New York and about the Subway. Living in New York, public transportation is not a choice, but a necessity, unless you are among the lucky few with your own personal chauffeur. Since I and most of the city are not in that income bracket (yet?) this is a fact of life for most New Yorkers. When I first came here I was afraid of the subway. It was this complicated maze of lines and express and local and uptown downtown mumbo jumbo. I was used to a much simpler system where there were all of five lines, each of a different color that never shut down for maintenance or track work or ran on different lines just for the hell of it sometimes. All I had been told about New York was how scary it was, and I wasn’t about to go out gallivanting on my own. Truth was I lived across the street from school. I didn’t need the subway. It was filthy and crawling with germs anyways. But slowly I started to get over this fear. Taking the train a few stops here and there, a means to an end, a way to get from point A to point B. Living here after the dorm life was much different. I had no choice but to take the train. Taxis are an option only if you want to go broke faster in an already expensive city and you want to take twice as long to get somewhere at rush hour. (Besides the fact that at 5 pm, taxi shift change time, taxis are almost impossible to find…slightly problematic when you have a flight to catch on a Friday night from JFK). Slowly but surely I weaned myself off taxis and eventually learned how to navigate the tangled mess of colored lines we called the New York Transit system. Now I cannot remember the last time I took a taxi anywhere. Don’t get me wrong. Taxis have their uses. Late at night to get home if you’re on your own (sometimes you find creepy people on the train), if you’re going somewhere far away from a subway station or if you want to get somewhere out of rush hour. I’m not saying that using taxis is bad, just that you lose the habit, particularly if you have some sort of routine everyday.

This concept has been cemented into me ever since I started work. While in school, my timings varied by day and internships and working on campus. Sometimes I would meet a classmate to work on a project, or catch up with a friend I ran into on campus. These days, however, I leave home at about the same time each day, and get home at approximately the same time. So there is much more consistency. I am mostly traveling at rush hour which in the best of conditions can be taxing, but that schedule is there, like clockwork. I think about when I first came here. Even when my family visits, for them the subway is a foreign concept. Something to take when you absolutely can’t get a cab, or you feel like going on for the ride. And why should it be any different? They have nowhere to be in a hurry, they’re on vacation. You always spend more on vacation, and why should you care about the fastest most cost-effective way to do it. But it always strikes me how used I am to the subway as my primary means of transportation, every single time.

The results of the subway poll rated #6 train as the top performing train in terms of having the highest frequency of trains, and for being punctual & clean. They gave it $1.40 (out of $2.00) Luckily for me it doesn’t come all the way down to where I am. The #4 train was also rated highly at $1.25 as was the L ($1.20) & the 7 ($1.15). The worst train was the N, allegedly nicknamed “the never”, which I thought was pretty funny but was accurate. If you have ever waited for the N, the R or the W you know what I mean. That whole line is cursed. Again, because I am lucky, the R & the W are the only trains that come to me on the weekend (the other two are closed for construction). I have only seen the W about three times during my whole two years spent in the city, so often times I have trouble believing the W train really exists. The C, the M, the B, and the D, G & V were also rated low. The point is that none of the trains were really rated the full $2.00. Basically we are all wasting our money…

The #6 train was also rated one of the top places to cool down…interestingly enough. I guess 2 bucks can buy you a good couple of hours of solid air-conditioning. Cheaper than buying your own AC if you really have nothing better to do…

The bottom line is no matter how much we moan and groan, we couldn’t survive without it. Your morning or evening ride on the subway can make or break your day. I remember once during a rain storm, it took me two hours to go from Battery Park to Grand Central Station. All the trains were stalled, and I nearly cried. That was a very bad day. Yet, on a morning like this, when the train was almost empty and I got a seat right away – it nearly made my day. Funny how the little things make such a big difference.