"please excuse our appearance"

...while the redesign is done on my blog. It's done in phases, and as a result, it seems like my blog is constantly going through puberty.

Manning the Front Desk

Currently, I am sitting at Renegade Marketing Group, located at 75 9th Ave. (8th floor) in New York. 

It's my internship. I had nothing to do, so they had me sort the mail and sit at the front desk while the receptionist is out on lunch.

Do I mind? Nope. I'm happy to be at a great agency doing an internship. Besides.... maybe mail sorting is the type of thing that gets overlooked by art directors... Maybe there is a way to express yourself through the sorting of personal correspondence, weekly and monthly publications, and junk mail that comes to the office on any given day (and in this case, 3 days worth.). Just maybe.

Or maybe, I have to pay my dues before I "make it" in the world. 

Or perhaps it is just that no one else wanted to do it.

Quite possibly, it is both.

The result, nonetheless, is that all of you (Mom, Angie, Jo... if anyone else reads my blog, I apologize for not listing you.), get a pointless blog entry.

I've come to a realization the last few days, however. And this realization is thus: (I've always wanted to use this and thus in the same sentence.) Life is all about either following what people tell you is going to happen with your life, and running through the motions, or life is going out, breaking the mold, and doing it your own way. Either you follow what has already been done, or you find a new way to accomplish it. The end goal might be the same, but the decision you made to either follow the route or blaze your own trail is what matters.

The path is beaten, it is easy. It is safe. You know right where it goes. And, if you are willing to deal with the repetition of the stones in the path, with the occasional glimpse of something magnificent as you it may permit you to look forward a ways, and even allow you to see where you have come.

The "not-path" is rugged. It's full of weeds, thorns, and uncertainties. The not-path doesn't definitively lead you to a specific point. It leads somewhere, but you get to choose where it is. And, if you are not afraid of the thorns, the weeds, lurking creatures, you may end up somewhere where no one else has been before. The things about weeds, is they can be pulled; thorns can be avoided or broken off; lurking creatures can be eaten, and uncertainties are only uncertainties until you explore them. In the end, you will EXPERIENCE something instead of merely FOLLOWING something. And, as a result...

...I choose the latter. 

Automatic-Flush Toilets and Changed Attitudes.

Bravo. The world has invented a toilet that doesn't require you to touch the handle to flush away the remnants. 

Tonight, after arriving back in NYC, I sat upon a throne of discouragement, pondering how I would reign in my kingdom the next day. Due to some unseen power, or just a glitch in american-made technology (likely the latter), the toilet flushed, whilst I sat upon it pondering (How "Poe-like" was that sentence?).

I do not understand why, nor do I profess to want to try to figure it out, but as the automatic toilet flushed, it swallowed up my feelings of inadequacy of living in New York. It turns out that this medicine of angst I've been having only needed a spoonful of sugar to be flushed away.

What was left? Resolve. Determination. I'm going to beat this dang city. It smells, it's crowded, it's uncomfortable at best... But dangit, I'm going to kick its freaking butt.

The whereabouts of my angst, you ask? Gone. To return, nevermore (to use Poe again.).

Admittance of bad attitude doesn't mean you've helped me.

...It just means I'm sick of you trying to "fix it."

Any engineer who deals with duct work will tell you that a "vent" is not releasing gas, air, vapor, pure thermal energy of emotion, etc. simply to have someone walk up and try to force it back in; Rather, the vent is a necessary device meant to relieve pressure... Pressure that would otherwise cause the entire system to explode.

This figurative vented substance is not only vented, it is vented in a specific area, where it can dissipate and the pressure is relieved all around.

...and maybe, perhaps, it's good to let it stay that way.

When people vent, they are not looking for a solution. They are looking to relieve pressure... They've chosen you as the "area" to vent into, so that the pressure can be relieved. Don't try to fix it... It will make the duct work feel like it is doing a bad job.

This will sum up my day, "Why the white man always gotta be oppressin' us black-folk?" I was accused on the subway today of trying to hit a small girl in the face with my arm. After what sounded like a southern-fried chicken chew-out (obviously take-out, which had left the south and come to New York), and a whole-lotta whoopin' and a-hollerin' with expletives and finger-snappin' attitude, I decided that this woman was merely venting, and didn't offer a solution. Rather, I ignored her (which I am sure she claimed is just the same as the government.)

I am not racist. Albeit, it sounds like it, but I'm not. I am merely using cynicism to display the angst that I have developed for this city. Homer Simpson put it best, "New York is a hell-hole!" 

"But Mike, you've only been there 5 days!"

I know. 

So what.

Let me paint it this way: Do you think you'd adjust to the heat of hell on day 5? What about day 6? Perhaps if you only gave it one more day, week, or 3rd-degree burn, you'd REALY get the hang of it, and you'd look back and say, "Well, Hell wasn't all that bad?" 

New York is not Hell.. New York is a great place that I happen to dislike greatly. Many people thrive on it. I however, do not. I'm not holier than thou, nor am I making a judgement on people who love it here. It's hard for me not to compare the contrasted emotions I have here to those of the calm, peaceful sunset providence set before me to enjoy on a cool, enjoyable, Tucson night...