the final countdown...

cue the music. there will be no more delaying of adulthood, no more wasting away a random tuesdays watching bad daytime TV because I have no class and rather endure Rosie yapping on The View than read another econ paper.yep the time has come no matter how much i want to just pause and enjoy it. i am mere hours from receiving my masters degree. or at least, standing up and receiving a faux diploma until all my grades check out since it's possible i could have truly screwed up my final final exam last night. let's just say i should never be asked to design a government provided income subsidy program for the unemployed. EVER.

commencements are such silly events. we get dressed up in ugly, oversized coats and wear stupid hats and convince ourselves that its a 'regal' affair. but i know it's something my family really love (or at least, pretend to love) and i'm hoping the years since my last dance to pomp and circumstance has given me better perspective on how to handle myself: this day is not for me, it's for them. so i am going to try really really REALLY (that's an extra really) hard to be mature, exercise extreme patience, and smile happily when my parents want yet another picture of me with the Dean. yea, so i guess i'll just have to suppress all my natural tendencies. i am sooooo gonna need a Big Drink after this week.

the burden of choice

many have told me that i am in an enviable situation, and i cannot disagree. after months of endless interviews, soul shattering self-analysis, and two or three poorly timed, stress-induced breakdowns-- i have the good fortune of receiving two amazing job offers. of course, true to form, i'm now facing another round of soul shattering self-analysis and stress-induced near breakdowns just trying to decide which one to take. again, not exactly a bad situation but its not going to stop me from whining and complaining like the little beeyatch that i am!

life is filled with choices. but it's also about timing. and opportunities don't often present themselves once, much less twice, so i'm taking pause to at least reflect on and enjoy this. although no one can predict the future, it's still very strange to recognize the different directions your life can take just by making a single choice. that all the little and big moments in our lives-- a missed train, a random meeting-- leads to a certain set of actions and consequences that wouldn't have happend if those instances didn't occur. it's all very Sliding Doors, though i hate comparing my career choices to a gwyneth paltrow movie.

so my pros/cons list is made and i am closing in on a decision. its scary and exciting at the same time. and i know that no one will understand this: but making a choice is also a little bittersweet. despite the exhaustion, anxiety, and stress of the past six months-- besides the constant plague of self-doubt-- i'm gonna miss this process a little. i've learned so much about myself and about the lives of others, and i hate the idea of letting someone down. but that's life for you. and its time to take a leap and hope for the best. wish me luck!

...and a half

Six months from now, a digit changes, and another decade is put on the shelf of my past—only to be referred to longingly with a mixture of affection, remorse, and way too many ‘I can’t believe I did THAT!’ moments. Turning 30 is not old per se and it doesn’t have to be a Big Deal, but denying its significance is akin to saying that aging makes no difference in our lives. And truthfully, thirty has been a focal point for me over the past couple of years, acting as a signpost to delineate where youth ends and adulthood truly begins.

Approaching thirty set off a spool of anxiety through me because of the responsibility associated with that age: I have to fuck around less and focus more; I need to pin down what I want and how I hope to get there. It’s not an endpoint by any means—but it does send a signal to society, to my peers, and to my ovaries that time won’t stop moving no matter how much I want to avoid it. And I don’t want to live without purpose, without acknowledging that every day with this body and with this mind is precious, so I better enjoy it.

So. Instead of collapsing under the weight of that age, I want to live out my twenties in style and with joy so that I start my thirties ready for even better things. And rather than focus on what hasn’t happened yet, I can at least check off all the things that have and will: earning a master’s degree, obtaining a job I’m excited to do in a field I’ve hoped to work in, an abundance of friends that make me laugh so hard my stomach writhes in pain, a healthy and (for the most part) supportive family, and a city that I still love and can’t yet imagine leaving. Thirty is looking good. But right now, 29 and a half feels awesome.

Resolutions, Take Two

i am so proud to be chinese. first, because of the rich cultural history that comes with my ancestry. and second, for the impeccable (and flexible) timing provided by the lunar calendar--giving undisciplined procrastinators like myself a second chance at New Years Resolutions. happy new year! and as it is the year of my favorite meat product, i want to be sure i make good on my goal to exercise more so i don't actually start looking like a pig.

i am not a fan of diets. in fact, i don't believe in them. but the correlation between aging and the slowing of one's metabolism is becoming a personal reality for me. and all the bad habits i picked up over the last few months-- eating dinner at 10pm; sleeping less than 6 hours a night--due to my effed up schedule of late classes and non-active workdays in the office-- has taken a toll on my body. i am definitely above my 'comfortable' weight, feeling the pinch of my jeans and seeing the minor bulge of my gut. this realization is really tough to swallow: it's taken me years to love my body-- both its flaws (wide hips, thick legs) and the gifts from nature (an hourglass shape). i don't want four months of low aerobic activity mixed with one-too-many late nite bites to undo a decade of learning to feel good about both my body and myself.

i don't want to be a slave to how i look, but i definitely know that feeling heavier negatively affects all the other areas of my psyche: my confidence lags, i get increasingly moody, and because i feel incapable of looking pretty/sexy/attractive...i don't even make an effort. on the surface, i'll blame it on winter doldrums. but we all know that's just a euphemism for feeling fat. so. i'm on a mission. not a diet, but a mission. i want to get back to my 'best self'-- which was the body i had about a year and a half ago-- 7 lbs lighter and a more-than-roomy size 6. so yesterday, i signed up for Self.com's Reach Your Goal body makeover program. it's nothing more than a way to keep myself personally accountable for how i eat and how often i work out. my goal is not to deny myself anything food-wise (that includes wine, beer, fries, and yes, pork!) but also to not make any excuses about working out at least three times a week. it's an achievable plan and i'm hoping to see results by the time summer rolls around. wish me luck!

Drunk (and Single) on V-Day. Again.

(hiccup). it's raining mini-icicles right now in new york. true to form, i wore heels to work today so walking home from school ROCKED! literally. it is true, i am a genius. which may or may not account for why i find myself single (again) on this anti-wonderful, poorly conceived, vomit-worthy holiday. happy valentine's day to me! and in case i was searching for an answer to 'whyyyyy???? whyyyyy am i still single?!?!?!?!?!' i can stop searching, because Time Out New York (TONY) has solved that problem for me in their latest issue, aptly titled: Why You're Still Single (and what you can do about it). holy crap, you mean drinking a bottle of wine alone in my apartment is NOT the appropriate solution? eff me.

in an homage to a single gal's biggest fear (sorry Y, but at least you only have just one), the mag's cover features a chick toting her fat kitty. inside, there is a slew of (often realistic) reasons to why you (or me or Y or the rest of single America) may be having trouble finding that special someone or just that special someone right now. ha. this includes the typical (you're desperate; you're commitment-phobic; you just got your heart stomped on) to the friggin hilarious: you're ugly; you speak in catchphrases; you're a short/skinny guy; you only date musicians, or you're secretly gay. for each deficiency, they generously offer a set of tips to counter these misfortunes. for you're ugly,they suggest a restaurant where diners can eat while blindfolded. ha! for getting over your ex, they suggest an open-mike nite. and if spouting poetry is not your thing, you can always get sauced and pump up your ego with a one-night-stand in hoboken-- land of the Eternal Frat Boy. hee.

so this is the first time i've splurged ($2.99) on this annual lonely-hearts issue. last year, i at least had a date to look forward to just 2 days post-Vday; the year before my friend and I made Man-wiches (uh-huh), drank beer, and gabbed about how i should wrestle myself away (again) from a hard-to-forget ex. but this year, the year in which i get my Masters AND--gulp--turn the Big 3-0...i felt weirdly compelled to find a reason to balk this trend, take action, and resolve myself out of singledom! but alas, i'm too lazy to make an effort to flirt, shave my legs, or join some random sports league/dance class/cooking club as a means to meeting men, ahem...new friends. blah blah, screw love and bottoms up!

Res-OH-lutions!

now that we're more than a week into the new year, i finally feel ready to make some of those new years resolutions. one of them, of course, will NOT be to procrastinate less. ha! other resolutions not making the cut: drink less (puh-leez), eat less (i don't do diets), curse less (fucking impossible), and study more (more? i can barely avoid procrastinating!). and no cop-out ones like get my master's. cuz, well...that is definitely going to happen. definitely. but real, genuine resolutions? well here goes nothing...let's see how long i last. i think the over/under is about 6 weeks. we'll see if i get there.

1. Drink more milk. but not with tea. and by more, i mean a full 2 glasses a day. i just can't rely on the milk i pour in my coffee or cereal. it does a body good, right?

2. Work out at least 3 times a week. this will hopefully counteract the NOT drinking and eating less.

3. Try to minimize the number of fights I have with my parents. This will require a ton of patience and managing my temper...which will be tough every time my mom reminds me that finding a husband is like finding a job...

4. Spend more time with ALL of my friends.

5. BUDGET! BETTER! i think i did a good job trying to save money this past year (and investing smartly so i wouldn't spend)...but with the prospect of paying down education loans in the not-so-far future, i should really try to spend less money on on frivolous things. but that doesn't include food and alcohol. c'mon! i need to sustain myself somehow!

Good Riddance 2006!

well another year has ended. and i am proud to say that this year, my new years eve did not include any of the following: puking, black-outs, temper tantrums, or losing a cell phone. hooray me! even more surprising, i wasn't even that drunk when the clock struck twelve...tipsy, yes. but drunk? nope. and to think, i was doing the wine dinner at Cite. that's right, wine dinner. six bottles of wine for the six gals round the table. it was awesome. we dressed up, chatted and gossipped and downed our steaks (or in M.E.'s case, fish) like the lovely amazing single ladies that we are. fuck men. and fuck the couples sitting around us. we were definitely having the best time at the restaurant.

no end-of-year-send-off is without a recap to the year that was. so here's my personal version of a best/worst of list for 2006...

Five Things I Won't Miss from 2006:

1. The first 25 minutes. where i learned that drinking more than 8 glasses of champagne doesn't just blur your vision, it also leads to bad decision-making, like choosing a cab where the driver is a first class prick. so i messed up your cab, you messed up my nite. jerk.

2. The assholes I dated. from the one who said goodbye via text (classy move buddy) to the one with absolutely no bedroom etiquette, i am done with both of you. seriously. fresh start for 2007, thank you very much.

3. All the fights I had (or didn't have, because some times we can be so passive-aggressive) with family and friends. I'm sorry. Whatever it was, it was most likely petty and I am sure I was as much a hurtful instigator as I was hurt. Here's to forgiveness :)

4. That really really horrible statistics class I endured from January - May. 90 minutes a week could not have passed ANY slower.

5. The result of this game. It took a lot of emotion out of me. Although exhilirating, this year I hope for a win.

Five Things I Won't Forget from 2006:

1. Getting the internship of my dreams. It is rare to hope and work for something and then to actually obtain it...with opportunity comes enormous expectations. although challenging, the job was the first positive professional experience i've had in a couple of years.

2. One really great first date. Although it didn't turn into everlasting love (and though I'm still a little bitter), I still hope to re-capture that feeling. let's just hope i'm a little less gushy next time.

3. Three great months living in D.C. I had a ton of fun.

4. Some awesome concerts. This is random, but going to live music events really energizes me and allows me to forget any stress going on in my life. you can't beat that feeling. from seeing New Pornographers at the New Yorker Festival to rocking out at We Are Scientists (in D.C. and Brooklyn), i want to make sure this year includes more music.

5. Buidling stronger friendships, with both old and new friends. You really can never have too many...and without them, I'd be a neurotic mess.

good riddance 2006. hoping for a longer best-of list in 2007...

The Gift of Giving?

happy holidays to all! i am so grateful to be getting some much needed R&R at my parents house, where in-between the requisite badgering of why i'm still not married, i at least get a chance to eat well, sleep lots, hang with family, and of course, catch up on reading that has NOTHING to do with school. i've accumulated piles of magazines to go through before 2006 gets away from me and the articles become oh-so-last-year.

however, it's been particularly frustrating to read stuff and then share my opinions/questions with my family. my parents' reactions are nearly always the polar opposite of mine-- to a point where a generic discussion often disintegrates into personalized attackes of 'what's wrong with you' to 'you just don't understand where i'm coming from'. it is no secret that i lean just left of center on many issues (and very far left on social ones) and sometimes i have to remind them that i attend a grad program for public service. this implies a need to serve others, which to my parents translates into an unworthy career choice as the end-goal is not one of maximizing personal salary, but something else. this is not to say that my parents are greedy...they are immigrants who have worked their way up for the American Dream which has provided an amazing life for me and my brother. for them, hard work = more money which then = more opportunity. that equation works for them and is true in many respects for me. but more money does not always = more happiness. and by extension, pursuing a career that will not generate AS MUCH money than say...a career on Wall Street does not make it any less worthy, less ambitious, or less fulfilling. and that last word is key. for my parents, fulfillment and career are not always linked-- its not a factor in their 'success' equation. and that's fine, but that's not me.

for my parents, the idea of "public service" is something that should come after i've amassed a "suitable" living for myself (suitable is defined loosely and i am not above admitting to enjoying more than a few indulgences but i am most certainly not overly extravagant). their favorite go-to examples are Bill and Melinda Gates, whose foray into philanthropy took root waaaaaaay after Microsoft took over the world and generated oodles of profits (snark, snark). sure, its easy (and morally responsible, if you ask me) to give back when you have ga-jillions of dollars to play with but not everyone can or wants to wait until they strike it rich to invest in a public or nonprofit-driven career.

this then led to a larger debate we had about philanthropy. it is the end of the year which means it's also peak time for charitable giving. holidays bring out the best in people. holidays, and the rush to get those last minute donations out for those nifty tax deductions. it's okay, i do it too. but philanthropy can be a tricky issue. it can put people on the defensive or put others on some moral high ground. my parents are all for donating dollars to good causes-- they do it every year-- but they think philanthropy should come after meeting the primary needs of your family. i agree with them to a point-- our own need to survive and sustain ourselves should be a priority. but i also believe in the moral obligation we have as individuals to 'give' some parts of our lives-- be it in time or through monetary means-- to those less fortunate than ourselves, especially when we can afford to have more than what sustains us. to have to defend my volunteer time or the extra dollar i'll give to a program i believe in is ridiculous, and not something i ever thought i'd argue with my parents about.

we all work hard to earn each dollar (at least, i hope we do) so we deserve to spend those dollars in any way we see fit. i've justified many past indulgences on the benefits of bonuses and salary raises. hell, it's my money! but when i start weeping after a Nightline segment on the violence in Darfur or children starving in Southeast Asia, it's hard not realize how much those tears are soaked with hypocrisy: i can always give more, but i often always forget, or worse, i just don't.

so this article was particulary interesting, as it helped frame the merits of my argument with my parents . it was written by Princeton philosopher Peter Singer, who devised a formula for what % of total income people should give to charity. his focus was first on the philanthropic work of billionaires, but extended to middle income earners where he suggested a progressive 'giving rate,' ensuring all able American families can share in the cause. Singer's argument is that if we, collectively as a nation, preach the need to reduce global poverty (hello, UN Millenium Development Goals; or any of the glitzy, celebrity-endorsed campaigns such as Product (Red), or Bono's One Campaign), then we should collectively be willing to contribute more than we currently do.

and what about people who dedicate their lives, whose wages are often built on work to help the poor and disadvantaged? should those people give an additional percentage of their income or should the fact that their career is dedicated to helping those less fortunate be enough? the New Yorker featured an article on Muhammed Yunnus, the 2006 winner of the Nobel Peace Prize, and others building out the micro-credit industry-- which offers a way out of poverty for those who have struggled for generations. but the article features both sides of microfinancing-- those who profit from these 'loans to the poor' and those who believe such credit lines should be exclusively not-for-profit. Fast Company produces an annual 'Social Capitalist Awards' issue which highlights the work of social entrepreneurs, whose enterprises seek to improve the world around us. is their work philanthropic enough...or is there never enough? and if their work generates a profit, does that profit diminish their social value?

these are questions i often wrestle with both in the choices i make in my daily life, and in the choices i seek to make in my professional one. and it frustrating to constantly hit this wall when i attempt to share these issues with my parents. the ideas of 'social value' and philanthropy don't make sense in terms of a career choice. but i guess that's why there's always two sides to every argument.

Five Ways to Procrastinate. Or, How I Learned to Live with Mediocrity.

That fine line between procrastination and sheer denial? Crossed it. At least a hundred times in the past two weeks. And does it stop me from bitching and whining like a little girl about all the work I have to do? Nope. I still do that. It’s the charm of me.

I’m not sure how I caught the procrastination bug. As a youngster, I religiously obeyed the ‘never-put-off-until-tomorrow…’ mantra and in my first Real Adult Job, I rarely strayed from my workplans, getting my shit done in a fairly systematic manner. But that all went to hell a number of years ago, and is even more pronounced now in my life as a grad student. For some strange reason, I like to push the boundaries of all my deadlines—right to the very last second. It’s a bad habit that I don’t condone, but one I can’t seem to avoid. Really, it’s like crack: I’m addicted to the adrenaline rush that comes with knowing the clock is literally ticking and that project/paper/presentation just needs to get eff done already. Somehow, I convince myself this makes me more efficient. The inevitable remorse comes later—that moment when I hand in a paper and know (in fact, a little ashamed) that it's not my greatest work. Actually, it’s not even my tenth greatest work. And that can be a bitter truth to swallow—especially for a crazy perfectionist like myself. But can perfectionism and procrastination co-exist? Probably not. Which is why now, my third semester of grad school is the time when I’ve finally made peace with the fact that mediocrity is sometimes good enough. I mean, it’s my own darn fault for waiting until 48 hours before a deadline to start writing a 20 page research paper. Or two hours before a deadline to complete a twelve slide presentation. Whatever.

But really, what am I doing instead? Well kids, I’ve made procrastination into a friggin art form. Technically, its the internet which has better enabled me to develop greater procrastination techniques. The internet and television. And that combination has produced this how-to guide on how NOT to get your work done. cheers!

1. Web Reading. lots of it. there is always something more interesting to read (like: this or this) vs. starting a paper. often, i convince myself that what i'm reading is actually productive (as opposed to counter) since i'm addicted to the nerdy-liciousness of the Freakonomics blog or Malcolm Gladwell's insightful prose.. of course, there's also the less than academic sites that feed my personal obsessions, be it music or food or new restaurant openings (and closings) here in NYC. i gotta keep up-to-date...even while pushing a deadline.

2. Reviews and Reviewing. love reading reviews. of EVERYTHING. whether its movies or a new album. and reading user reviews always crack me up. people are so opinionated, i love it. and when i want to self-indulge in my own opinions [here's the blatant self-promotion!], i go and yelp. that's write (hee!). yelp. go there. be cool. and vote (positively of course) for my oh-so-fun reviews.

3 . Online Televison. as i had so many evening classes this semester (and often forgot to set my vcr) it was quite a blessing that so much tv can be watched online. i think i caught nearly every episode of Ugly Betty online. and asides tv, there's all the cool online videos-- and i'm not just talking youtube. want a good laugh? you MUST (MUST!) watch the webisodes of Late Night with Conan O'Brien's Pale Force. its an animated series featuring pale super-heroes Conan and Jim Gaffigan and their fleet of blindingly pale characters (e.g. Ron Howard; The White Stripes) battle those who seek to destroy their paleness. it is SO FUNNY. watch it. trust me.

4. Actual Television. it's really bad how addicted i am to television. sad but true. i can't help it! i love tv! whether its the Iron Chef America on the food network or a Top Chef marathon on Bravo or even better, some 'Totally Awesome...' specials on VH1, there's always something on!

5. Fantasy Vacation Planning. i'm not kidding. there are so many ways to fake-plan a vacation online and on tv. i love the travel channel. all of their shows give me great vacay ideas...assuming that one day i will have the time (and money) to take one. i adore globe trekker, and think Ian Wright is the coolest traveller around. and is it me, or does Samantha Brown have the BEST JOB in the world? me thinks, yes. how did she get so lucky?

thank goodness the semester is almost over. so i can stop procrastinating and instead find more websites/television shows to procrastinate on for NEXT semester. :)

My Battle with Myself

sometimes, there are moments when i am so painfully aware of my loneliness. like when i continue to prolong the day into the late nite hours, leaving the tv on for fear of sitting by myself in silence. and then again, in that moment every nite when i'm getting ready for bed--i walk through my apartment, turning off the lights until i'm left in the dark with only the sound of my feet and the faint humming of the fridge. right before i close my eyes, i often wonder if the very purposeful over-scheduling i do in my life--with work and classes and volunteering and social engagements--is really just a way to shield myself from the truth of being alone.

it's been a tough few months for me. i hate writing about it so publicly, but there is nowhere else for me to put it. and it's not like there is something in particular for me to feel upset about--it is after all, the time of thanksgiving. and i certainly have much to be thankful for. but it doesn't erase those times of severe stress, where i feel so much pressure to perform at work at school at life-- that i'll just burst into tears for no reason at the dinner table or snap at my parents or my friends because i know no other way to act. i go through this cycle of guilt that i'm not doing enough to live up to my own expectations as a person as a daughter as a friend and then i come home to an empty apartment and have no one to share this guilt with.

when i first moved into my own place, it was a feeling of unbridled joy. i treasured the freedom and space to live as i wished-- so what if i have yet to decorate it to my true liking? or that sometimes, i want to leave dishes in the sink for an extra day? it is my place, and i could do what i want. it was a symbol of my rise to adulthood and independence. but as the years trot on and i've aged further into my twenties, the euphoria of single living is slowly wearing away.

i know that i can do a lot of things on my own and even achieve some semblance of contentment. but the truth is, i don't want it to be that way. and it's not because i'm an extrovert or that i'm co-dependent or desperate for a relationship. it's because i really do long for that connection with others, that assurance that my presence actually matters to someone. and although some will be quick to say--'why of course you matter.' i am not an idiot. anyone can qualify as an afterthought. we are all self-absorbed people with a limited amount of love and empathy to share. and therein lies my problem: i feel like i haven't been able to share anything remotely deep with anyone lately. and i've used the excuse of time as the reason, but really its my own sheer avoidance. it's as if exposing to others all of the issues causing me dissatisfaction will only reveal a hard, cold fact: that no one really cares but me. a thought like that is better left alone by itself.

Looking for Inspiration

My tear ducts had a workout this week. Yes, it’s no secret that I’m a softie who cries at even the silliest romantic comedies, but no one should doubt the sincerity behind each salty little drop. This week, I wasn’t crying so much as I was moved—inspired really—by people who translate their passions into action. Despite all the stress and frustration that comes with taking risks to follow your dreams, it’s nice to be reminded that hard work can pay off.

First moment came in Chicago last weekend. I was there attending the 2006 Net Impact conference with fellow grad students (Net Impact is a global network of professionals interested in using business skills to achieve social change) and didn’t expect to have access to so many driven, motivated leaders. One of whom was John Wood, founder of Room to Read. He was there promoting his latest book (excuse the somewhat self-righteous title) but also imparted great wisdom for those of us aspiring social entrepreneurs. His decision to leave a cushy Microsoft job to bring literacy to the developing world was more than just a whim. Anyone can write a check. He took what others would term tragic (a small school in Nepal with barely any books in its library) and saw an opportunity to change it. That takes guts, and I couldn’t help but admire him.

Then on Wednesday, I sat 6 inches away from this man. Not many people would get that excited over the head of the nation’s largest school district. But Joel Klein is like a celebrity to me. And his outrage at the state of the city’s dire education crisis wasn’t a lament, but a call to action. After he spoke, I wanted to stand up and scream ‘I will work for you!’ Too bad I didn’t have my resume handy.

And of course, whenever I get overwhelmed—by the burden of debt, the loneliness of student life, or the excruciating lack of sleep—I always like to read this: Steve Jobs famous commencement speech (made to the Stanford class of ’05). There’s this one section that comforts me, this tiny nugget of inspiration:

Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

It always makes me wet behind the eyes.

To D.C., With Love

it's funny how you can think you're so completely committed to a city/job/person, then you walk away briefly, experience comfort/satsifaction/happiness from another perspective, and begin to wonder: perhaps committment is over-rated? heh.

a year ago, i didn't think i could ever consider living in another city. but as i approach my last year at grad school, i find myself with more than just career choices ahead of me, but city choices too. it's not that i no longer love New York, but my summer in D.C. did prove that its possible for me to make a home elsewhere. obviously, it also helps to have an amazing group of friends there that made adjustment to life outside of NYC that much more palatable.

now today is the last official day of summer. it certainly came and went waaaay too quickly. so i thought i should take pause, reflect on my summer experience, and send a little valentine to the city and my friends--particularly Y, J& R, Holly, JMc, EQ, and Sep-- for making the summer so much fun for me. hell, there were moments where i even forgot (gasp!) a bit about New York.

Some favorite moments and places:

• The newly re-opened Smithsonian Museum of American Art & the National Portrait Gallery was a favorite destination of mine this summer. The historic building offers visitors a clean, unfettered experience-- brightly lit corridors, spacious viewing galleries that provides a 2-for-1 art deal. i especially loved the William Wegman 'Funny/Strange' exhibit. The man was more than just the guy who took the dog pictures.
• Y and I dancing it up and falling in love with the lead singer of We Are Scientists, during their too-quick concert at The Black Cat. they're young. they're cute. they're sarcastic. basically, they're PERFECT. sigh.
• Taking too many shots with my Grad School Gals in Adams Morgan. they made me feel like i was a 23 year old babe again...
• Watching the lightning storm around the Capitol Building while picnicking with Y, Holly, and two J's. wait a minute. actually, we were there for D.C.'s Screen on the Green classic movie-fest. best part? that Holly brought wine in Perrier bottles (she was afraid we'd get caught by the alcohol-free police). did you know that one bottle of wine barely fills two bottles of perrier? well, its true. second best part of that nite? Bogie and Bacall.
• Larry's Ice Cream. Man, I miss this. I think it was the only place I frequented more than three times. their unique flavors (especially the Cleopatra and the Fred & Ginger) are almost better than sex. I said almost.
• Attempting to play frisbee at Burke Lake Park in VA with J&R. oh and Y. she may have a post-graduate degree, but girl can't toss a frisbee to save her life!
• Running around in the heat (and I mean the HEAT!) of summer doing a D.C.-MD-VA scavenger hunt. yes, i said scavenger hunt. Y and I ran around the metro area with sixty odd other crazy 'young professionals' in an event sponsored by Things to Do D.C. Our team took the laid back approach. if by laid-back, you mean cut-throat competitive. I think I laughed when an opposing team person fell running up the Metro escalators. idiot.
• Finally visiting Teddy Roosevelt Island. It's small! It's filled with trees! It's also named in honor of my favorite President. beautiful. but bring bug spray.
• Exploring the amazing (but very un-free) Phillips Collection with Sep. She and I spent a couple of post-work hours marveling at the exquisite exhibit space, stood enamored by the famed Renoir in its permanent collection, and of course, barealy avoided total embarrassment when Sep nearly fell straight into a Klimt masterpiece. Good job Sep, good job.
• And of course, enjoying the thrills of the suburbs. including shopping at the mall, eating at The Cheesecake Factory, matinee movies at less than ten dollars (!), downing cheap (but out-of-place) beers with Holly at roadside joint Hank Dietle's Tavern (a most random bar nestled between strip malls), and eating lots and lots of shaved ice smothered in condensed milk goodness at a local Taiwanese eatery. oooooh how i miss the shaved ice!

Laborious and Scandal-Free

Sigh. Y visited this past holiday weekend and it was nothing like her last Labor Day visit to NYC two years ago. back then, we had enough crazy, scandalous stories to regale our friends with for at least a couple of hours. they included: a day at the US Open fraught with underlying friendship tensions (between Y and her other friend, not between the two of us), a night out drinking too much Belgian beer where Y almost ruined one of her other friend's relationships (all's well now) before she and the aforementioned 'tension' friend spewed out their issues all nite long--crying like little girls on my sofa bed (awesome for me), and then a final evening of true debauchery where after much food and alcohol, we ended up ensconced in a bachelor party filled with drunk 'cowboys' ready to get it on. there was dancing. there were shots. there was a near-miss double hook-up, two seperate cab rides back to my apt, and much laughing about our stupidity as dawn was breaking. oh it was awesome.

this time? well, let's just say this time was different. here's how the weekend played out:

Friday: Y and I indulged in a 2-for-1 martini special. We started at 5pm. uh-huh. By 7 pm we were...well drunkity drunk. we even ran around Anthropologie in a drunken fury before imbibing in one more cocktail at Rockefeller Center where we were loud. Most scandalous part of the nite? that we were home in bed by 9:30 PM!!!! OMG. pathetic doesn't BEGIN to describe it. oh and the pictures of us sucking on hot peppers at a korean restaurant. pseudo-scandalous. i'm reaching here. rock on.

Saturday: we shopped in the rain. that basically sums up our day. Most scandalous part? that we went to bloomingdales with coupons in hand and came back EMPTY HANDED. this story gets sadder...

Sunday: desperate to score tix to the absolute last performance of Mother Courage and her Children, the Shakespeare in the Park production at Central Park. Meryl Streep was in it and it was certainly the hottest (free) ticket in town. however, free translates to getting up butt early to wait on line for tickets (they're limited). Most scandalous part of the night? that we woke up at effen 3 am (yes, that's A.M.) to haul our tired old asses to the park. and when we got there, we weren't even the first ones on line-- i believe we were numbers 27 and 28. craziness. Second most scandalous part of that day? we waited nine friggin hours, sprawled out on damp mulch right outside the theater. oh yea. it rocked. luckily, Meryl was amazing and didn't disappoint.

Monday: finally we were rewarded with a gorgeous day. perfect for our day at the U.S. Open. YAY! and added bonus-- we had a great schedule of tennis on tap including a match i termed 'hotness vs. hotness'-- robby ginepri v. tommy haas. robbie crashed and burned in the fifth set but his biceps didn't disappoint. sigh. Most scandalous part of the day? that U.S. Open security confiscated my $12 can of sunscreen. dude. the drama. its too much no?

So i guess the bottom line is that we're getting old. which means we've become boring. depressing but perhaps inevitable. i mean, my liver and little black book can only take so much, right? right. snooze...

With Gratitude, and a reason to Stand Up!

Last days are often bittersweet, but in my past few professional experiences the balance always tilted more heavily towards the bitter. so today, my last at a summer fellowship i never thought i'd ever get, it is so refreshing to exit with a smile, a twinge of sadness for the people who've been so great to me, and next to no regrets. this was my first job inside an urban public school system-- one with well-publicized challenges-- and it has reinforced my goal to work in this sector.

after witnessing the dilapidated conditions of many of the system's school buildings, i became fully aware of and grateful for the resources that made my public school experience so very different. the link between the quality of a school facility and the academic experience of a student is stronger than i ever realized. it was humbling, but also inspiring--there is so much opportunity, so much that needs to be done. how do we ensure that today's and future generations of students get the quality education they deserve? i truly believe its the civil rights issue of our time.

so even though i often vented about the sketch-factor associated with my daily walk to work (um...large abandoned field, the railroad tracks, the gross construction workers, and the possible drug den across from my building-- it all spelled 'potential crime scene') and complained about my garden level office (read: no windows, poor ventilation, and bugs!)--nothing could be more valuable than having an insider's view of an public system famous for its dysfunction. there is much complexity involved with designing, building, operating, and maintaining school buildings...and despite my preconceived notions, there are no easy solutions. the media will say that the system does not have the will to fix itself. but after working there alongside those responsible for the fixing...i contend that the will exists, but the means to do so are not always there. so with that, a way for others to learn more and possibly, to help ensure there will be a movement to bring resources to some of these important issues:

Standup.org is a coalition sponsored by the The Gates Foundation and The Broad Foundation to generate national awareness about America's high school graduation crisis. if you look at the numbers, you'd worry more about our future as well...

It's Not About the City Stupid

With barely a blink of the eye, my summer in D.C. is more than halfway over. It would be a lie to say that when I arrived here more than six weeks ago, I wasn’t a little anxious. I worried about whether the amazing professional opportunity that sent me here would put a dent into my above average personal life. Maybe it was a little dramatic (but when am I not?), but I couldn’t imagine my life, much less my summer, not being in New York City—a place I’ve called home for the past seven years.

But then, is my love affair with NYC idealized? Or is much of my enjoyment of The City linked to the extensive network of friends I’ve built there over the years? Well, the answers are no and yes. Having witnessed a national tragedy, endured an on-subway assault, and experienced the New York through Blackouts, snow storms, and torrential downpour…I can honestly say that my adoration is not soaked with even a drop of naiveté. That was lost years ago when I was stuck within the caverns of downtown Manhattan, debris raining over me. That day, September 11, taught me the true meaning of the word precious. It is, after all, not the city that saves you or hurts you or makes you laugh—it’s the people that surround you who reinforce that connection. So upon greater reflection, my love for NYC has less to do with the city and more to do with the people that make both the good and bad days worth enduring.

And for that, D.C. has been great to me. I arrived and immediately had a network of friends to plug into. If I was sent somewhere else—say Denver or San Francisco—I am sure that I would be very lonely, no matter how incredible the job may be, or what amazing things those cities may offer. I feel so fortunate to have the chance to re-connect with old friends, strengthen relationships with somewhat newer ones, and explore a city that is both familiar and new to me. It’s been a wonderful, yet rare opportunity. And it makes for a more complicated situation because I often feel stuck between two worlds—the one waiting for me in New York and the one that is here, happening now in D.C. I can’t say which one I prefer or which one is better. That choice is no longer just about the city, but is more about the friends. And with that, I plead the fifth.

In Pursuit

When I was twelve years old, my dream job was to be a corporate executive. That’s it. I had no idea what that actually meant but I thought Working Girl was a kick ass movie. And I thought having a big corner office in NYC sounded glamorous. And besides, if Melanie Griffith can make it big on Wall Street with her Betty Boop voice, then surely I had a shot. Sing it, Carly Simon, SING IT!

Unlike my other friends who wanted to be doctors or lawyers or engineers…I wasn’t really passionate about one specific thing. The problem was, I liked a lot of things and even excelled at some of them. But there was no singular passion I could point to, directing me towards a clear career path. So I arbitrarily selected business and afterfinishing college, headed straight towards the corporate path. Along the way, I got some great projects, met some amazing mentors and friends, and learned how to put together really awesome power point presentations.

But something happened that messed up my plans. My first summer in the city, I started volunteering with public school students. My motives were selfish—it was a way to morally compensate for my accelerating yuppy hedonism. “Hey”, I thought, “I’m giving back to those in need! Look at what a good person I am!” I was such an asshole. And worse, the experiences with the students inside the classroom revealed what a spoiled brat I really was. Kids in the city were given the short stick--schools were overcrowded, undersupplied, and filled with disengaged principals and teachers. I was floored. No one told me my public school education was a luxury good. I guess I was too ignorant to ever consider it something so valuable.

A fire was lit inside me. I got more involved in public school projects, researched school performance statistics just for the sake of it, and attended talks about education reform. The issues plaguing the urban education system were infinite and complex, but with each unveiling of a problem also provided an opportunity for change—I wanted to help fix things, I wanted to be a part of this movement to improve our schools. This got my adrenaline pumping. Climbing the corporate ladder losts its appeal and gave way to a "hobby" that was slowling taking over my life.

For me, the blatant inequity that exist in city schools is plain disrespectful. Recognizing this allowed me to also recognize my passion to work in this world. I wasn’t prepared to take this leap and make such an extreme change, and believe me, neither were my parents (I recall their reaction being a big-- WHA?!?!??!). But I finally found something that got me out of bed in the morning; I finally found something specific to focus on.

And now, I'm pursuing something I never thought I’d be doing when I was twelve: living in a city that’s not New York (temporarily) and working inside one of the country’s most dysfunctional school systems. The work is hard because the outcomes are real. I’m scared shitless that I’ll make mistakes which I'll inevitably end up making. I wake up every day worrying about the impact of my decisions. And mostly, I wonder if I’ll live to see a change in the right direction. One thing I do know, I don’t wake up wondering what I want to do anymore. This is my dream. And if there’s anything I’ve learned about dream jobs is that you should never confuse them with things you see in the movies, never expect them to be glamorous. Instead, measure them in terms of personal satisfaction. That is what will make the difference.

Running on Empty / My id has left the building...

Today I woke up and had no clue what day it was. Heavy with allergies, I peeled open my eyes and turned to face the hint of sun peeking from behind my window shades, anxious to fill my room and remind me of the mess of clothes and papers and tissues amassed around me. Who am I and what have I become?

Apparently, the final weeks of my first year at grad school blindsided me. I walked around pretending to be a functioning human being—I mean, I took an exam, wrote three papers, and gave a presentation on some pretty complicated statistical analysis in a run of six straight days. I even recall having a stress-cooling cocktail at one point, easing my mind from the burden of expectations that stem from my own silly quest for perfection. But when did the weeks blur together? When did my subconscious stop dreaming up manifestations of my school stress and instead take direction from Tarantino?--Seriously, I had five straight nights of dreams where the body count rivaled both parts of Kill Bill. Fortunately, none of the “victims” were real life people. At least, not from my life.

The things is, I thought my mind would eventually break down and reach an impasse-- refusing to type, read, calculate, graph, and analyze anything else ever again. I just thought that would happen when I was filling out my AARP membership. Renewal. Ah well.

Three Long Sighs...and then, Spring

The cold season doesn't fare well for cynical sentimentalists like me. I’m a warm weather girl who longs for longer days and only enjoys winter for its gifts of snow (because it’s so lovely) and its stretch of holidays (because even Scrooge couldn’t resist Christmas). But Spring is like a forgotten dream, especially for New Yorkers like me who’ve endured several years of zero transition time between a Winter’s bleak and a Summer’s humid.

Today though, today was Spring. It was one of those days that just demanded your attention-- shimmering with a warmth and brightness that was so magnetic, even flowers came out from winter hiding. Out for a walk, I felt as if I was trapped in someone else's moment, someone else's sketches of the Perfect Day, where the sky was that precise shade of blue--painted on without the blemish of a cloud. But me, I paid no mind to this rare moment, this treat from nature. Despite losing an hour, I still carved out time to be sad.

It wasn’t like I was sad about anything in particular. It was just about everything in general. Leave it to me to use a solitary Sunday as an excuse to soak in my own self-loathing. Pausing at one of my favorite local spots, this section of benches and greenery outside the Natural History Museum, I stood beneath the shadow of the Planetarium as the strains of Bob Dylan’s "You're A Big Girl Now" whispered in my ear :

A change in the weather is known to be extreme
But what's the
sense of changing horses in midstream?
I'm going out of my
mind, oh, oh,
With a pain that stops and starts
Like a
corkscrew to my heart
Ever since we've been apart.

when i was little, i believed in fairytales. i believed that happily ever after was truly the ending to all stories. and that things always worked out because I didn't know any better. years later, scarred by the realities that naturally comes with becoming adults, i've learned that Real Life is not so neat and tidy. We're all complicated packages with no simple solutions. And that while one part of our lives may be exceeding all expectations, another part may very well be falling to pieces.

my patch of sadness was one of those temporary moments of mismatched fortunes. on one hand, i'm successfully pursuing my goals, getting what I've hoped for in my professional life. but then i round a corner, and my heart is being broken by someone that was never suppose to matter in the first place. it's a trick of fate, a twist in the story. and it leaves me both bewildered and disturbed. is there a lesson i'm suppose to learn? will things ever balance out?

and before there are any answers offered up, a stream of sunlight cuts into my thoughts and suddenly i saw the world around me: rows of daffodils blooming from all corners, children squealing and chasing down birds, couples walking hand in hand. this was not someone else's day but a moment that was all my own. i took three long sighs, exhaling out my melancholy and taking in the beauty of my own imperfect situation. it was finally Spring. so i went and bought myself flowers.

Warning Labels

They appear on prescription drugs, shouldn’t people come with warning labels as well? Especially when it comes to dating, no one wants to be a cautionary tale--the fear of physical harm is enough to justify signs that scream in neon lights-- “Convicted Criminal Ahead!!!” or “Beware! This guy has Syphilis!!!” But isn’t it just as important to provide indicators for potential emotional damage? We'd all fare better in the dating game if we're given notices like the following: “Boring Person, May Cause Drowsiness” or “Player: This Man is Best Taken for Casual Flings Only.” Recently, I could have used one that read like this: “Emotional Baggage Ahead. Proceed with Extreme Caution. Screwing with your Mind WILL OCCUR.”

The advent of Google, Friendster, and Myspace makes information gathering on a potential suitor not just a mouse-click away, but almost a de facto requirement for the world-weary dater (some may call this stalking, but that’s neither here nor there). Despite all this, isn’t it still the unknown and the undiscovered that pushes even the most hardened cynic of us to continue to put ourselves out there and risk the chance of heartbreak? Doesn’t getting all the information up front ruin the whole “mystery” that makes dating both fun and frustrating?

Well, I’m beginning to wonder if mystery is over-rated. I’ve been in various states of single and not-so-singleness over the past seven years, and every time I think I’ve acquired enough dating experience to not repeat past mistakes, I always get proven wrong. It’s as if years of falling for the wrong guys or screwing over the nice ones have made me less able to trust my own instinct. And frankly, I’m tired. I’m exhausted from the romantic beat-downs, the reduced expectations, and the inevitable disappointments. So I’m asking for help, guidance from a higher source. One that will warn me on Day 1 if a guy is commitment-phobic or a potential cheater or will be bad in bed. And if the same is demanded in return, well then let me just lay it all out there: Warning! I’m loud and have an obnoxious laugh and I’m relentlessly cynical and can’t go an hour without sarcasm. I’m scared of settling and getting hurt and being alone but I am willing to give anyone a try as long he’s honest. There. That’s MY warning. Pursue at your own risk.

Don't Look Back in Anger

It's my first foray back into the blogosphere after temporarily disengaging to face the hardest working weeks of my life to date. That fourteen day period leading up to the holidays (which I lovingly termed "Just...Get...Through...This!") was an exercise in mind over matter--I started a new (part-time) job, endured and won my first semester-end battle with exams/papers/team projects, and actively attempted to maintain a social life in the midst of all those sleepless nights.

After dusting off all that end-of-year chaos, it still took me nearly a month to get used to the sound of the New Year, recover from yet another alcohol-fueled send-off to the last one and then crawl back into some semblance of "normality." With 2005 quickly falling into the distant past, I still can't help but reflect on what a personally pivotal year it was for me. And even with its many low points, I prefer to not look back with regret and bitterness, but instead learn from the past. So though a little belated, here are ten lessons from 2005, my year that was:

1.Good Things Come to Those Who Wait
Patience is a virtue and for a while, I wasn’t sure I had an ounce of it. This time last year, I was in the midst of my Long Winter Wait. Trapped in a shitty job that was slowly killing my spirit, I placed my entire future fate in the hands of an anonymous group of admissions committees who would single-handedly save me or send me deeper into my living hell. Sure, I concocted multiple exit strategies (including evil fantasy ones, like throwing my computer out the window so TPTB would just toss me out already!), but going to grad school was the choice I wanted most-- I needed it to happen so I could be within breathing distance of my Dream Job. So with clenched fists, I trudged through those seemingly endless months, made better by throwing a few well-timed "fuck you's" to my boss (behind his back, of course) and engaging in numerous happy hours and bitch sessions that didn’t necessarily make the time any sweeter, but at least got me through it…turns out, grad school was in the cards for me and it has been the most positive decision I’ve made for myself in over two years. there is nothing better than doing something that makes you happy...you even learn to appreciate the long, winding road that gets you there.

2. Be Aggressive, B-E AGGRESSIVE!
Besides being a cheer-tastic movie, Bring it On! also gave me a mantra to live by: patience may be important (see # 1), but wanting something and doing nothing about is the lamest excuse ever. I’m pro pro-activity. When I’m in an unhappy or unsatisfying situation, I immediately search for ways to push myself out of it. Change may not always happen immediately, but just knowing that I'm working on it always offers a flicker of hope. The thing is, you can't sit around and wish your life to change for the better—you have to be like Nike and JUST DO IT-- complaining gets you nowhere, and frankly, I don’t have any sympathy for those who complain and don’t act. Most importantly, never EVER let some jerk-off boss treat you like a doormat to wipe his shit-stained shoes on…if I learned anything from my last job, it’s that you have to stand up for yourself, take risks, and not be scared of yelling back or coming off as a bitch-- cuz honestly, you'll actually earn more respect and start hating yourself less.

3. Vacations are good for the soul
A week in Belize did wonders for my physical and mental health (seriously, i had four sinus infections from january-april of last year)...there is nothing like living on island time, where every day is sunny and every hour is Happy Hour...now, if i could only find time for a vacay in 2006 on my meager student budget…

4. Never Underestimate the Benefits of a Summer Fling
Some action is better than no action. That’s all I have to say…

5. Feed Your Brain, It Needs Watering
the mind is a really weird instrument--it has the endless capacity to hold drawers full of pointless info (for instance, i can still name the entire roster of the 1986 World Champion Mets and tell you who won the Best Oscar Picture since 1972...i know, totally useless!)...but remember how to calculate a regression and the core economic theories of supply & demand--both, core subjects i took in college?--nope, barely recall a thing. the brain, like any muscle, needs exercise—we need to constantly feed it with intellectual energy or its becomes stale and lackluster. more than six years removed, 2005 marked my returned to the classroom. Finally, I was going to give my brain the workout it deserved. And now, more than i ever was in my four years as an undergrad, I was excited to read, write papers, do problem sets, and just plain learn. back in college, i used to skip statistics class. now, i totally geek out and can't wait to see how lectures translate into real world applications. It’s refreshing to acquire new skills, engage in intelligent conversation, and write in prose and not bullet points. sue me, i'm a born-again nerd.

6. If Memory Served Me Right, then I would Remember…
i refuse to believe that i'm at an age where not remembering the past eight hours of my life should be a regular occurrence...right??? i mean, that just doesn't make sense, unless...

7. ...So Don't Drink (Alcohol) on an Empty Stomach ...
oh yea, whoops. this is one of my BIG lessons learned from 2005. i mean, two times is a coincidence, three times is a pattern...so four times blacking out due to drinking too much on an empty stomach means...what? a problem? FINE! i'm not the marathon drinker i used to be (sure, going out five times a week at 22 will push your tolerance up, but i guess age and tolerance are inversely related)...how should I resolve this? Well, i'm not gonna sign myself up for AA just yet. Instead, I’ll drink by this new personal rule: before imbibing cocktails, eat a Real Meal. Sure, I guess i should just drink less...but C'MON! that's like asking a bear to give up honey.

8. A Good Friend Will Yell At You
real friends will listen intently to you and offer sage advice on anything and everything. however, a really GOOD friend will yell at you, call you out on your bullshit and tell you the Awful Truth like you're acting like a bitch or you look God-awful in those jeans...sometimes it hurts ( i know my eardrums surely do), but it the best kind of friendship and makes you a better person (hopefully) ;)

9. Sleep is an under-rated recreational activity
2005 was the year i learned the value of sleep. not much rivals it...except maybe sex...but even then it may be a close call. five years ago, i use to survive on less than five hours of sleep per day...i blame NYC, restlessness, cocktails, and sunny days. now, i relish those rare moments where i can sleep for 12 hours and not feel guilty about it. Zzz…

10. Understand what excites you, and go after it
the most important lesson i've learned: never give up on the things that move you because you'll never forgive yourself. more than four years ago, i had that "a-ha" moment--where this light went off in my head and i understood exactly what i was passionate about. for me, I want to contribute to the urban education reform movement and every new change I made in my career since then was a change towards fulfilling that passion. There were many detours, wrong turns, stalled moments, and times when I was ready to give up and just surrender to where the money was…fortunately, I persisted and forced myself to listen to the voices nagging at me—including those of some good friends and mentors who have both nourished and encouraged me to achieve my goals. There is still a lot for me to do to get to where I want to be, but just knowing I’m pursuing it makes all the difference.

So Happy Belated 2006! Can’t wait to see what I learn from you this year…