When I was traveling in Europe this Spring, I often found myself willing the any train I was on, to slow down and let me off. Let me go explore the small towns we were passing, let me soak it all in, let me just be a little more and a little different than before.
Back in the city, after a few days in Georgia with my family and a lovely holiday with good friends, I find myself asking for the train to break down once again, and let me off for a bit. The activity of a life lived intensely is catching up with me. I am tired. I want one less thing on my to-do list. I want one less person I need to please. I want one less email or text or phone call to send.
I notice that I go through the spells a few times a year. Before I hated them... 'Slow down? Que pasa?" But I now I relish in them. Its these times that my extroverted self will slow down and watch the world vs. being what the world is watching. Nights at home, or mornings sleeping in become the norm vs. up at 6AM and to the gym, or out all night and still up at 6AM. I do wear myself out sometimes.
I am thankful that one of these 'retrogrades' are on the horizon, just as I have three weeks off from the office. It couldn't come at a better time. I need to retreat from the world for a bit and get lost in my own little world. Yep, I really do need this train to breakdown and let me wander for a bit.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Friday, November 20, 2009
The Bittersweetness of Life
I don't really know how to catagorize this week. Its been one of figuring things out for sure. Its been a week of celebrations, and goodbyes. A week of learning what I want, and just when I think I have it figured out, there is another decision to be made. Its been a very 'real' 6 days.
I am still in shock over last night's news. One of my dearest friends in the world is going to be a daddy! I am in love with this news. In this day and age with so many couples have trouble with infertility, a couple that loves each other and I love together is going to have a baby in 6 months. On the flipside of this, this news means that in one month they are moving -- from being 3 blocks away to a 3-hour plane ride. This news sucks.
Of course I am so happy for them in their new life, the fact they have each other to go through these changes with, and to know that two of my favorite people have found the one they want to spend 'happily ever after' with. Its exciting times, for sure. But it does make me sad.
We are all growing up. Faster than we want too. Sometimes in this adult playland its easy to forget that life is happening and passing each day. This place is the land of opportunity, and yet with so many opportunities to try, sometimes its easy to keep trying new things vs. being confident in what we want -- there is always just one more thing to do or check off the bucket list before we allow ourselves to rest a bit and be content with life.
When changes happen to those around you, it reminds you of how short life is. And there is no time like the present to follow your dreams, because tomorrow may not have time for a trip to India or time for that long run in Central Park, and you will always want those moments back. The difficulty of life is making choices, for saying yes to something means saying 'no' to so much else...But one day, you find that something that gives you new meaning, and I believe when you find it, 'yes' is the easiest thing to say.
I am still in shock over last night's news. One of my dearest friends in the world is going to be a daddy! I am in love with this news. In this day and age with so many couples have trouble with infertility, a couple that loves each other and I love together is going to have a baby in 6 months. On the flipside of this, this news means that in one month they are moving -- from being 3 blocks away to a 3-hour plane ride. This news sucks.
Of course I am so happy for them in their new life, the fact they have each other to go through these changes with, and to know that two of my favorite people have found the one they want to spend 'happily ever after' with. Its exciting times, for sure. But it does make me sad.
We are all growing up. Faster than we want too. Sometimes in this adult playland its easy to forget that life is happening and passing each day. This place is the land of opportunity, and yet with so many opportunities to try, sometimes its easy to keep trying new things vs. being confident in what we want -- there is always just one more thing to do or check off the bucket list before we allow ourselves to rest a bit and be content with life.
When changes happen to those around you, it reminds you of how short life is. And there is no time like the present to follow your dreams, because tomorrow may not have time for a trip to India or time for that long run in Central Park, and you will always want those moments back. The difficulty of life is making choices, for saying yes to something means saying 'no' to so much else...But one day, you find that something that gives you new meaning, and I believe when you find it, 'yes' is the easiest thing to say.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Time For Me
As females, we love relating to other people. Whether its our girlfriends or boys, relating -- the back and forth of conversation, the sharing of time and ideas -- is what we revel in. That is what I revel in. I love having interesting people around, and I love ensuring they will be around for awhile -- almost to the detriment of myself at times.
It seems I am on another clean-out binge these days. This time in the male sector of my life. Its tough being single in a somewhat lonely city, as sometimes we cling to potential mates just to have someone vs. really wanting that person in our life. But over this weekend and this week, I realized that multiple faces in my life were just not cutting it. And as I bid them adieu for this reason or that, I felt myself opening up to something better. Because it is true, every moment spent with someone who doesn't provide what you want/need is time taken away from someone who might.
So I am flying solo again. And thankfully so. I had gotten so bogged down in dating, that I wasn't taking the time I needed for myself. And now I have that time back, who knows what will come. The universe rarely closes a door without opening a window, and I am excited and ready for what comes next.
It seems I am on another clean-out binge these days. This time in the male sector of my life. Its tough being single in a somewhat lonely city, as sometimes we cling to potential mates just to have someone vs. really wanting that person in our life. But over this weekend and this week, I realized that multiple faces in my life were just not cutting it. And as I bid them adieu for this reason or that, I felt myself opening up to something better. Because it is true, every moment spent with someone who doesn't provide what you want/need is time taken away from someone who might.
So I am flying solo again. And thankfully so. I had gotten so bogged down in dating, that I wasn't taking the time I needed for myself. And now I have that time back, who knows what will come. The universe rarely closes a door without opening a window, and I am excited and ready for what comes next.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Has Beens
Tonight I let myself do what I never do. I ventured past 'here' to 'then', and allowed myself to go along with a night that was presently happening but based on thoughts and feelings circa 2004. It was odd, meeting up after several years of " not meeting-up". Despite previous meetings and encounters that did not always end on the best note, there was still something between us -- whether that could be descibed as attraction, or joy at seeing a person from before, I don't know. Neither I nor my drinking buddy for the night knew what that meant.
Within a matter of minutes of agreeing to hang out on this rainy Friday night, old patterns and old roles began to play out. Me bringing the 'let's have fun vibe', he bringing the 'let's have fun my way' vibe. And as always was the case, we wash each other out. He interrupts my stories; I don't think his are funny. I find the silver lining; He just wants to complain. I am drinking my wine froom Spain; he is drinking a beer faster than the speed of light. Its just not fun. It wasnt' then, and it's not now... despite how easy it seems for two people who have known each other for 6 years to enjoy each other's company. With him, its impossible.
Somethings just don't change, even though time passes. At one point, I wanted this person to be in my life in a major way, but those days have long passed. Present day, I was open to creating a friendship due to the fact that we knew each other so long, but honestly, I think this guy is incapable of such.
And when words I was saying were butchered due to the entire bar screaming along to Michael Jackson and he thought I said something totally than I did, I couldn't even be bothered to explain myself. Because if I did, the night would end well, and there would be the option to hang out again. And why do that, when I know nights with him never reach higher than 'okay' at best? That's not the way I have been living this year, and its not okay to be fine with 'okay'. I have a better time alone!
So we parted ways, probably for the last time. And despite our history, I was more than okay with that.
Within a matter of minutes of agreeing to hang out on this rainy Friday night, old patterns and old roles began to play out. Me bringing the 'let's have fun vibe', he bringing the 'let's have fun my way' vibe. And as always was the case, we wash each other out. He interrupts my stories; I don't think his are funny. I find the silver lining; He just wants to complain. I am drinking my wine froom Spain; he is drinking a beer faster than the speed of light. Its just not fun. It wasnt' then, and it's not now... despite how easy it seems for two people who have known each other for 6 years to enjoy each other's company. With him, its impossible.
Somethings just don't change, even though time passes. At one point, I wanted this person to be in my life in a major way, but those days have long passed. Present day, I was open to creating a friendship due to the fact that we knew each other so long, but honestly, I think this guy is incapable of such.
And when words I was saying were butchered due to the entire bar screaming along to Michael Jackson and he thought I said something totally than I did, I couldn't even be bothered to explain myself. Because if I did, the night would end well, and there would be the option to hang out again. And why do that, when I know nights with him never reach higher than 'okay' at best? That's not the way I have been living this year, and its not okay to be fine with 'okay'. I have a better time alone!
So we parted ways, probably for the last time. And despite our history, I was more than okay with that.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
I ran a freakin' marathon!
There are few things I've ever done in my own life that I find impressive. Most things that I seem to accomplish are by happenstance or what I think is the right or fair thing to do. Its rare that I find my accomplishments remarkable.
Sunday was not that day. On Novemeber 1, 2009, I ran my first marathon. I am tearing up as I write this. :)
To some its 26.2 miles, big deal. To me it was something I said I would do, and I factored training for it into every week of my life since I first thought up the idea. I lived and breathed the idea that on November 1, 2009 I would wake up too early, board a bus bound for Staten Island (a far flung borough of NYC's five) and run all the way to Central Park. When November 1 dawned, I was ready -- mostly.
The week before the big race I had to go to Philadelphia for work to run a program at Wharton. If I was a trainee that would have been one thing. But I was the person with the credit card and responsible for picking up the nightly entertainment. There was no going to bed before 1AM during my time in Philly, and the final night our Global Chairman kept us all out until 3AM. When I arrived back to the city on Thursday I was exhausted. I drank too much. Played too much. And ultimately, was in no shape to run a marathon.
Friday my marathon prep was thwarted with a friend who needed help with final arrangements as he proposed to his girlfriend. (as a friend there is just no way you can say no) But I did make it to bed by midnight.
Saturday I had errands to run in preparation, carbs to eat, tshirts to find, registration cards to hand in. Plus, it was Halloween, the single day you DONT want to be living downtown in Manhattan. Every ghoul and goblin was out to get me that night. But I found myself asleep close to 10PM, after sorting out the time-change-semi-drama upon realizing I don't own an alarm clock.
The next morning I was ready. I woke up ready. Was in a cab for the Staten Island bus at 5:45AM, and was seated on said bus at 6:15AM.
The ride to Staten Island resembled scenes from Batman Returns. We were the only motors allowed on the road, like we were dangerous criminals being swept out to Staten Island. Yes, my imagination gets way ahead of me at times!
The weather is cold and damp. There are people camped out in sleeping bags. The smell of BenGay is in the air. Bagels are being handed out by the dozen, as is water and powerbars.
I find my coral, check my bag with UPS and head to the starting line. I can't believe I am going to do this.
When the gun does off, and Frank Sinatra starts singing "New York, New York", I know this is my race. And despite a twisted knee and a stop at First Aid and a few tears from running through the pain, it was just that.
I was amazed at the support of the crowd, the enthusiasm of the runners, and the beauty of my city. I ran my little heart out, screwed up knee and all. When I hit Central Park, I refound my stride, and when I saw the 400 meters to go sign... then 300... then 200... then 100... I raised my arms in victory as I fell across the finish line. I did it!
What an amazing feeling.
Then last week I was walking with a friend and he commented that he is a little intimidated about hanging out with a "woman who runs marathons". And I thought it was an odd thing to say and wondered who he was talking about... and then I realized he was talking about me.
I DID run a freakin' marathon. And yes, I am just a little bit impressed with myself. : )
Sunday was not that day. On Novemeber 1, 2009, I ran my first marathon. I am tearing up as I write this. :)
To some its 26.2 miles, big deal. To me it was something I said I would do, and I factored training for it into every week of my life since I first thought up the idea. I lived and breathed the idea that on November 1, 2009 I would wake up too early, board a bus bound for Staten Island (a far flung borough of NYC's five) and run all the way to Central Park. When November 1 dawned, I was ready -- mostly.
The week before the big race I had to go to Philadelphia for work to run a program at Wharton. If I was a trainee that would have been one thing. But I was the person with the credit card and responsible for picking up the nightly entertainment. There was no going to bed before 1AM during my time in Philly, and the final night our Global Chairman kept us all out until 3AM. When I arrived back to the city on Thursday I was exhausted. I drank too much. Played too much. And ultimately, was in no shape to run a marathon.
Friday my marathon prep was thwarted with a friend who needed help with final arrangements as he proposed to his girlfriend. (as a friend there is just no way you can say no) But I did make it to bed by midnight.
Saturday I had errands to run in preparation, carbs to eat, tshirts to find, registration cards to hand in. Plus, it was Halloween, the single day you DONT want to be living downtown in Manhattan. Every ghoul and goblin was out to get me that night. But I found myself asleep close to 10PM, after sorting out the time-change-semi-drama upon realizing I don't own an alarm clock.
The next morning I was ready. I woke up ready. Was in a cab for the Staten Island bus at 5:45AM, and was seated on said bus at 6:15AM.
The ride to Staten Island resembled scenes from Batman Returns. We were the only motors allowed on the road, like we were dangerous criminals being swept out to Staten Island. Yes, my imagination gets way ahead of me at times!
The weather is cold and damp. There are people camped out in sleeping bags. The smell of BenGay is in the air. Bagels are being handed out by the dozen, as is water and powerbars.
I find my coral, check my bag with UPS and head to the starting line. I can't believe I am going to do this.
When the gun does off, and Frank Sinatra starts singing "New York, New York", I know this is my race. And despite a twisted knee and a stop at First Aid and a few tears from running through the pain, it was just that.
I was amazed at the support of the crowd, the enthusiasm of the runners, and the beauty of my city. I ran my little heart out, screwed up knee and all. When I hit Central Park, I refound my stride, and when I saw the 400 meters to go sign... then 300... then 200... then 100... I raised my arms in victory as I fell across the finish line. I did it!
What an amazing feeling.
Then last week I was walking with a friend and he commented that he is a little intimidated about hanging out with a "woman who runs marathons". And I thought it was an odd thing to say and wondered who he was talking about... and then I realized he was talking about me.
I DID run a freakin' marathon. And yes, I am just a little bit impressed with myself. : )
Thursday, October 15, 2009
No Place Like Home
These days, regardless of what goes on in my day, few things can get me down. For two weeks now, I have been on Cloud Numero Nueve, and there is no sign that I am coming down for a while.
After this wild and crazy year -- calling off a wedding, disengaging from the life I had with my fiance, heading to Europe for the spring, shifting living spaces all summer, giving all my possessions away along the way because 'who needs all this crap', running my ass off because I signed up for the marathon, convincing my boss that not only did I need time off but I needed to be kept around when I returned, I could go on and on, but this year has been nuts! BUT, after all that, I have kept a promise I made to myself at the very beginning of this journey: Miss Paige, you can do WHATEVER the hell you want this year, but by January 1 you better be living somewhere with your name on it and all your belongings inside that space. It can be a tent in Timbuktu, an igloo in Alaska, but WHEREVER it is, you better plan to stay there for at least 24 months. I am so proud to report I am almost there!
The day I returned from Europe in September, I found a terrific little apartment that I knew was meant to be mine. And now its my home. Every day I feel like a kid in a candy shop when I head home, because coming home to myself is such an amazing feeling. Kind of like in elementary school when you went to your best friend's house after school because it was the coolest place you knew... that's how I feel EVERYDAY about my own home. Silly? Maybe.
After 7 years in this gigantic Apple, all I have ever wanted is to deal with myself, and a space to do just that, and yet that one thing kept eluding me from crazy roommates who were convinced they were dying -- or worse, their boyfriends -- or double worse, their dogs, live in boyfriends that really shouldn't be there, fly by night roommates, that were never there except when you didn't want them to be... And even since leaving the apartment I shared with my ex, I have lived alone, but in other people's homes, so my stuff was there but the furnishings were nothing that I would have chosen. And then there were rules to follow -- like the lady that needed to come to the apartment for an hour every Wednesday and had all these pencil drawings of boobs on the wall (the Boob Apartment), or the crazy chick from this summer that wanted to charge me for plastic hangers that I didn't take -- its funny business living in anyone's house. Regardless of what or who, my living experiences in NYC up until now have never really worked out the way I hoped.
But since Day 1 - October 1 - when I moved my 3 suitcases and 4 duffle bags into my new home, I knew I would finally find the feeling I have been searching for since I got to Manhattan. And as my couch arrived this morning, and I sat down and watched the world go by outside my window, I know its time to put my feet up for a bit and relax. I am home. And that feeling -- the one I allowed to elude me for the past 7 years -- is simply the best feeling one could ever have. And I am so thankful that today, and hopefully for days to come, that feeling is mine.
After this wild and crazy year -- calling off a wedding, disengaging from the life I had with my fiance, heading to Europe for the spring, shifting living spaces all summer, giving all my possessions away along the way because 'who needs all this crap', running my ass off because I signed up for the marathon, convincing my boss that not only did I need time off but I needed to be kept around when I returned, I could go on and on, but this year has been nuts! BUT, after all that, I have kept a promise I made to myself at the very beginning of this journey: Miss Paige, you can do WHATEVER the hell you want this year, but by January 1 you better be living somewhere with your name on it and all your belongings inside that space. It can be a tent in Timbuktu, an igloo in Alaska, but WHEREVER it is, you better plan to stay there for at least 24 months. I am so proud to report I am almost there!
The day I returned from Europe in September, I found a terrific little apartment that I knew was meant to be mine. And now its my home. Every day I feel like a kid in a candy shop when I head home, because coming home to myself is such an amazing feeling. Kind of like in elementary school when you went to your best friend's house after school because it was the coolest place you knew... that's how I feel EVERYDAY about my own home. Silly? Maybe.
After 7 years in this gigantic Apple, all I have ever wanted is to deal with myself, and a space to do just that, and yet that one thing kept eluding me from crazy roommates who were convinced they were dying -- or worse, their boyfriends -- or double worse, their dogs, live in boyfriends that really shouldn't be there, fly by night roommates, that were never there except when you didn't want them to be... And even since leaving the apartment I shared with my ex, I have lived alone, but in other people's homes, so my stuff was there but the furnishings were nothing that I would have chosen. And then there were rules to follow -- like the lady that needed to come to the apartment for an hour every Wednesday and had all these pencil drawings of boobs on the wall (the Boob Apartment), or the crazy chick from this summer that wanted to charge me for plastic hangers that I didn't take -- its funny business living in anyone's house. Regardless of what or who, my living experiences in NYC up until now have never really worked out the way I hoped.
But since Day 1 - October 1 - when I moved my 3 suitcases and 4 duffle bags into my new home, I knew I would finally find the feeling I have been searching for since I got to Manhattan. And as my couch arrived this morning, and I sat down and watched the world go by outside my window, I know its time to put my feet up for a bit and relax. I am home. And that feeling -- the one I allowed to elude me for the past 7 years -- is simply the best feeling one could ever have. And I am so thankful that today, and hopefully for days to come, that feeling is mine.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
We are who we are.
Lately (as in this week), I have found myself being more observant than before --tuning in, watching what goes on around me, and DOING less. For once, I feel like I can watch the people in my life with zipped lips, soaking up their actions and words like a sponge, while quietly analyzing the meaning -- if there is one.
Its been interesting, as I have been able to see those close to me in a different light -- almost as if the romantic glow of candles has faded and the harsh florescent lights of the bar have come on. I am happy to report that its not bad, just honest. And sometimes 'honest' is not such a bad thing.
It seems that more often that not, my interaction with people close to me involves less 'made-up' moments -- those when we have crawled out of bed to meet for Saturday AM coffee, or fresh from a work out coated in sweat, watching a hero lose a close-fought tournament and the crummy feeling that brings... All of these are much more 'real', much more honest, much more personal than I have often allowed myself to be. And in its own way that is truly beautiful.
Granted there are moments that are still harsh. Like when friends known for being flakey continue to be that way. Friends who don't bother to call until they are literally on your doorstep. People overestimating how much time they will have to hang out and then the compartmentalized feeling that brings. Friends being passive in making plans, but you know the moment you hand out an invite they are there 159%.
The truth is all the 'negative' things I know about my friends (and myself) don't change. And while the situations around these people may, these characteristics don't change. They are who they are. I am who I am.
Part of the difficulty in relating to others is being able to maintain who you are, while letting them be who they are. Sometimes it is about realizing that this is not about me, its about them being them. Their antics may drive me nuts at times, as I am sure mine do them, but the truth is we want to be in each others lives and we do what we need to do to make that happen.
Its been interesting, as I have been able to see those close to me in a different light -- almost as if the romantic glow of candles has faded and the harsh florescent lights of the bar have come on. I am happy to report that its not bad, just honest. And sometimes 'honest' is not such a bad thing.
It seems that more often that not, my interaction with people close to me involves less 'made-up' moments -- those when we have crawled out of bed to meet for Saturday AM coffee, or fresh from a work out coated in sweat, watching a hero lose a close-fought tournament and the crummy feeling that brings... All of these are much more 'real', much more honest, much more personal than I have often allowed myself to be. And in its own way that is truly beautiful.
Granted there are moments that are still harsh. Like when friends known for being flakey continue to be that way. Friends who don't bother to call until they are literally on your doorstep. People overestimating how much time they will have to hang out and then the compartmentalized feeling that brings. Friends being passive in making plans, but you know the moment you hand out an invite they are there 159%.
The truth is all the 'negative' things I know about my friends (and myself) don't change. And while the situations around these people may, these characteristics don't change. They are who they are. I am who I am.
Part of the difficulty in relating to others is being able to maintain who you are, while letting them be who they are. Sometimes it is about realizing that this is not about me, its about them being them. Their antics may drive me nuts at times, as I am sure mine do them, but the truth is we want to be in each others lives and we do what we need to do to make that happen.
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