15 posts tagged “me”

No, this wasn't created to go viral. We were having a low morale day in the We-Care.com office, so being the boss, I made an executive decision to crank George Micheal.  As it happened, my developer's cell phone takes half-decent video.  I share this because I have no shame.

There are some experiences that are hard to put into words, but I figure I'll give it a shot anyway.

19 years in Minneapolis softened me. It never knocked the East Coast out of me, but I got use to the easy pace. NYC is, arguably, the greatest city on the planet, but easy it's not. When I think about my 50 minute commute, it always blows my mind that it's only 4 miles. Getting anywhere is a pain in the ass, and every day in Manhattan is non-stop sirens and horns, even as heard from my 14th floor office. Basically, there are two major downsides to NYC: 1. Everything is a hassle. 2. Everything takes forever. The subway is antiquated, underfunded, and inefficient.

Look around, and everyone is stressed out. I mean, there's got to be an impact from the cumulative stress of everyone in the city, doesn't there.

Shutting down is a defense mechanism. On the subway, everyone plugs in their iPods or opens up their books and doesn't look up. You can almost hear their thoughts, "Don't make eye contact." Everyone becomes an archetype: the business man, the Hasidic Jew, the homeless person, the teen mom, the wannabe gangsta, the ultra-thin middle-aged wife a a rich businessman, the Latino family ... you get the idea. People are, for the duration of the train ride, a mix of clothing, skin color, and relative wealth (or poverty). To each other, we're two-dimensional.

But I've noticed something that happens after my roughest days at work -- the days I'm worn raw, the days 50 minutes is just too long to get home, the days I want to run screaming from the train, the days I want to leave my keys at the office and never come back. I look around me, and my defenses are gone. I see each face as the unique person it is. I see the stress, or the joy, or the sorrow in their faces. I look around the car, and everyone is a person, with a home, and challenges -- perhaps greater, lesser, or just different from mine, but challenges. Life isn't easy for anyone. And there's a mix of sadness and beauty to it all that brings tears to my eyes.

Though I couldn't call myself a Buddhist, my years studying Zen and meditating did have a huge influence on me. And I keep thinking about the Buddhist notion of feeling love for all living things, because that's what happens at those moments. It's fleeting. The next morning, I'll be staring at the floor again, but for those moments, it's love in a very pure, basic, human way.

I have been a bad Vox neighbor. In the eight months I've lived in Brooklyn -- has it been eight months already -- I have barely blogged, rarely read others' blogs, and rarely commented. Truthfully, I've rarely logged in. I've thought about it. I've ridden the train home with great posts running through my head only to eat and pass out from exhaustion. I've missed blogging, and promise to put more effort into this little corner of the internet. And I've missed hearing from all of you.

So, here's the past eight months in a nut shell:

• February 1: Land in Newark, and stay with my dad while I apartment hunt.
• February 2: Go to my second cousin's bat mitzvah.
• February 3: Watch the Giants win the Superbowl!!!!!!
• February 4: Find my apartment on my second day of looking, and sign a lease on a one bedroom with a price tag that would be considered obscene elsewhere, but is a bargain here.
• Went in for the first of two MRI's which never should have been prescribed, but did freak me out.

• February 15: Move into my apartment, and begin the insane task of furnishing it, including two stressful trips to IKEA -- a special form of hell.
• February 18 — Start my new job as General Manager of We-Care.com, a startup company.
• Start a whirlwind romance that crashed in 3 weeks (or was it 2?).

• Realized how fucking expensive NYC is. Really. I thought I knew, but it took some adjusting.

• Realized that my Start Up's product was not ready for prime time, as previously believed.

• March - July — Rebranded, re-architected, redesigned, rebuilt, and relaunched We-Care.com.

• August 1: We-Care.com is live. Shortly after, I take a much needed vacation, but really don't relax because I can't stop thinking about work.

• Realized what Start Up meant: lack of sleep, stress, uncertainty, and the need to do a whole lot with very little. Gratefully, I had a great staff (of two), amazing interns, and very supportive owners.

• March — Remembered that years of living away from here allowed me to forget what a difficult place NYC is to live — that's difficult as in realizing your 45 minute commute is only 4 miles.

• Found a therapist.

• Summer — Went on too many dates with too many rude, ill behaved women. Seriously, there are stories I could tell. (I also went on dates with some very nice women.) Began to wonder why I was spending large amounts of money on rude women, and decided I needed a break from dating.

• Labor Day Weekend: Finally finish decorating my apartment, so it looks like a home instead of a crash pad.

• September 20 — Go to Bob (my brother) and Mandi's wedding. It was possibly the nicesest wedding I've ever been to, and I've never seen my brother — the brother who said he'd never get married — this happy.

• Late September: Watched the economy crumble.

In all, I left 19 years of life in Minneapolis behind, and with it, 19 years of friendships, and all the places that felt familiar. I left a stable dead-end job for an uncertain one with lots of possiblities. I've learned what it's like to be lonely in a new place, and what it's like to slowly -- and it is slow -- build new relationships. I've become jaded about dating, worried about money, and very tired. I've revisioned and rebuilt a web product from the ground up in less than five months, with only two employees, two interns, and three contractors — and I'm damn proud of that (and the people who worked with me). And, I've learned that being close to my family is good and bad, but mostly good. (And I'd say "mostly good" even if I didn't know my dad read my blog.)

It will probably be two years before I can look back and say whether I'm glad I moved back here. But there is one thing I'm sure of: Not moving here would have always left me wondering.

Now, if anyone knows any single women in this area, roughly between 36-44, who don't want to be single, and aren't rude,  inconsiderate, or blatently offensive, do let me know. ;-)

Once upon a time, I was a professional stilt dancer. (That's not something I could make up.) Anyway, I had not been on stilts for more than a decade -- until today.

Show us something that's ridiculously cute.

All the cuteness is on the left. I was just fortunate to be included in the photo.

This is one of my darling nieces. She's the youngest, and I think she broke all past family records of cuteness per square inch (or centimeter as this photo was taken in Germany).

Show us a Polaroid picture.

For the record: I'm still this cute. Maybe cuter.

Somebody really needs to clean this window.

OK. I was tagged by Kitty and Een, so ...

1. I was horribly shy about dating in high school and college. My first kiss didn't come until I was 18. I was on my first college break and had gotten together with a high school friend. We had gone out to dinner and were back at my mom's place sitting on the floor of my bedroom. She gave me puppy-dog eyes, told me throughout high school she always wondered what it would be like to kiss me, and then (literally) tackled me.

2. I have (or at least had) the home phone number for John Paul Jones of Led Zeppelin. I was doing an interview with him about five years ago. They just gave me his phone number and told me to call. His wife answered the phone, and they were both very nice. Sort of the most down-to-earth people.

3. I used to direct a theater company that based it's work on dreams and dream-like plays. It was a collaboration with a psychologist who focused on dream work.

4. In my mid-20s, I wrote an hour-long monologue titled "Blood, Masturbation, and the Vampyre's Creed." I performed it at the Minnesota Fringe Festival in 1996, and the title guaranteed me an audience. Even given the opportunity, I couldn't muster the angst to perform it again, but I am kind of proud of it.

5. I used to be a professional stilt dancer. (Everyone asks me what that means, but I think it's pretty obvious: People used to pay me to put on stilts and dance.)

6. My first rock concert was Pat Benetar with Billy Squire opening. It was outdoors. I went with my older (by one year) brother. It was outdoors, and no bottles, cans, or coolers were allowed. At the time, my friend had a still. We made close to pure alcohol, used hypodermic needles to inject it into oranges, and brought the oranges to the show. (My mother couldn't figure out why we wanted oranges.)

7. I'm secretly jealous of people who dated a lot in their early 20s, fell in love and married in their late 20s/early 30s, had kids in their mid-30s, and made it work.

8. Before working full-time in interactive, I was a full-time music and arts journalist. I still write for magazines, but it's part time. One of my areas of specialty is Nordic folk music.

9. I've written liner notes for three albums by three very different artists: singer-songwriter Stan Ridgway, composer John Howell Morrison, and the Swedish folk-thrash group Hoven Droven. I've also written program notes for The Philadelphia Orchestra, and was the informal critic in resident for a the Intergalactic Contemporary Ensemble, and amazing, flexible chamber orchestra.

10. I grew up in NJ, near NYC. Went to school at VA Tech. Spent my 20s working at theatres up and down the East Coast. I've been in Minneapolis since October 1988, but have to admit that it's wearing thin. Currently job hunting my way out of Minnesota, and hoping to do so before it frays my nerves too much.

Bonus Fact: I was a hippie artist with hair well below my shoulders. (I've also had my head shaved.)

OK. Is there anybody left to tag? I'll go with Caryn, Deborah, Heather, Not Barbie, djchall, Laurel The Person, Megan, Kelev T. Cat, §abba, and Jenny. (If you've already been tagged, you are, of course, excused.)

Update: Deborah did this better than I did. See her 10 Facts About Bill.

I was interviewed today, along with author Stu Wolfe, as part of a digital storytelling project. I don't particularly like Stu as a person, but he's a good writer and we used to work together closely.