Cold.

It strikes me that when it gets cold, it doesn’t really sneak up on you anymore. One day it’s nice and sunny and the perfect temperature - summer easing into fall - and the next motherfuckin’ day it is cold. Bitter cold.
Such is the way with the fickle New York City weather, and such is the way with life.

I’d forgotten about New York City and it’s many changing seasons. I’d finally grown accustomed to the year-round warmth in Florida, when I went and settled in to two years in Maine, where snow was a part of your every day life for sometimes half the damn year.

But New York ... it’s different here. The seasons come and go, in full force, but New Yorkers remain the same. They don’t slow down to panic about the chilly temperatures, they throw on a scarf, grab their metrocard and go on with their lives.

It was such a warm summer... an even warmer September. I had job security (with the exception of a little month here) and I was just doin’ everything I could to really meld the person I thought I’d become with the New York City life I once had.

Wednesday, I made the decision that (with the exception of pot) it's time for me to give up on the other drugs for a while. They stopped being fun when I found using a substance to be a way of actually looking for substance...

I say this not as an addict, or as recovered party boy (Oh no, this boy WILL party again!), but I say this as somebody who for the past few months has been hanging with "Tina" and "Gina" and sometimes the occasional CRACK a little more then nescesarry ... Yup, that’s right boys and girls. I’ve smoked my fair share of crack in the past few weeks too... And yet still, somehow not a crackhead? Hmm... puzzling when I should so easily be able to place myself into a stereotype, or a character or at least a fucking demographic. But no ... that would just be too simple.

Why!? Why am I doing all these things, and spending so much money on them, when I could be having fun in so many other ways? When I could be instead trying to build a path towards my next goal. I’ve not done too poorly at achieving them... why am I going to stop now and rest on my baggies?

I don’t know still... In the past few days since I’ve lost my job (I called in too many times, cause I was sick ... both physically and mentally) I’ve had a lot of time to reflect...

But fuck that right? I didn’t chose to reflect. I chose to sleep. I chose to dream.

And dreaming is something right? No, not too much when the only dreams you have take place in the same 8X6 room you’re calling "home" as you debate where you not only SHOULD be in your life, but in fact where you actually WANT to be?

The truth is, that sitting here on the steps of my building (I’m now technically a resident, I guess that’s something) I remember the past few months, the tenants would gather late at night and chit chat, gossip and maybe have a smoke or two. I remember the months behind me, and how I had a piece of a puzzle, but had just stopped looking for the other pieces.

It’s time to step forward and show some character. It’s time to start doing things for me.

Surviving will be the first order of business, since I’ll need to fight the depression that’s taking hold, and get out there and find another job. One that I won’t screw up this time.

And there are lots of thoughts of screwing up ... of playing when I should be sleeping... of partying when I could be writing ... Enough memories and stories to write 10 plays, novels or screenplays with. There’s at least a full television series in there all about the afterhours scene in Florida. I started envisioning that even back then.

I’ve got the experiences... and I’ll have plenty more to come... but right now it’s time to work. To work for money, to work for sanity.

To take all the experiences that life has given me and to make my mark in the world, so that the REAL experiences I have left, are colored with achievement and success, not sex and drugs.
Luck has played a huge part in my life over the years. Good and bad... many of the things that happen to me in life seem so chance that luck (or that Bitchy Lady Fate) seem to be the driving force in causing them to happen.

In terms of my strength and longitude though, life has been pretty good to me. My body somehow recovers from all the "goodies" I’ve ingested over the years. The stronger nature in me always wins out in the end. The verdict’s never guilty. The test always comes back negative. And I always end up on my feet again. Luck I guess. But it does run out eventually, and maybe it’s time to stop hoping there’s just one more tissue in the box.

I noticed some of the other tenants in my building getting supplies together while summer was still here. Preparing for a winter that was coming ... Me, I chose to enjoy the warmth while it lasted, and now I find myself paying the piper. Scrambling to get ready for a winter that’s on an express train to here. The cold weather is here ... and the cold city is embracing it. And me?

What of me?

Well, I’ve just got to throw on my scarf, grab my metrocard and go on with my life.

Thought Stew

My new job is an interesting mix of the familiar and the new.

Familiar because it's a diner (actually "THE Diner"), and therefore much like Denny's and Friendly's, the two places where I first learned the fine art of waiting tables.

OK, perhaps not such a fine art at either of those places, but they were both certainly diners.

Then I moved on to "Blockheads" the tex-mex joint with the $3 frozen margaritas. Still, not exactly fine dining. But then again, I always knew that a stuffy restaurant with linen napkins and a matre'd was not exactly my kind of joint.

"The Diner" is a neat place, because it's in the heart of a very popular neighborhood, and has all the comforts of a traditional diner, but while still providing a higher level of service then your average corner greasy spoon.

The other night I learned how to do proper wine service (something I hope I'm not called upon to do that often, as things like that absolutely petrify me for some reason) and I'm currently in the process of memorizing our rather intricate menu (who knew that burgers and fries could be so complicated) as well as our wine list and a bunch of other factoids I'm expected to have a firm grasp on before a mandatory test all waitstaff will be taking next week.

I've been trying to keep up on the writing too ... there's much of it to be done. Not just the bill paying kind, but I'm also trying to push myself more towards the work that needs to be done for some projects I've been working around in my head for some time now.

I find myself once again reaching complacency... workin the jobs ... playin on free nights... and sleeping as much as possible so I can do it all again.

But there's more to life ... at least there's more to mine. I know that there is because I dream about it. I dream about the successes I've had and of the ones I still have ahead of me. But dreaming, contrary to popular belief, is just not enough.

Work. Concentration. Focus. Discipline. These are also key components in realizing your potential. And these are all things that I find myself trying to cultivate internally. It's not enough to just want these things ... I need to make them happen.

My biggest problems was never my ability to dream big ... or even the talent to bring my creations to fruition. Instead, my downfall has always been my inability to stay driven and focused enough to follow through.

I know this ... and therefore it's time to start acting on that knowledge.

It's time to heed those wise words that followed the end of every episode of GI Joe ... "Now you know. And knowing is half the battle!"

The Begginning Of The End ... Of My Twenties!

29. The last year of my twenties.

God, how has it all flown by so quickly?

I say that as though it's all been a big blur of events that have just been too fabulous to enjoy. This, of course, is not the case. In fact there have been many moments in my life that have seemed to go on forever. Moments that I've wished would just hurry up and end so that I could go on with my life. Moments when I've felt more an old man in my 60's then a young one in his 20's. But when it comes down to it, the realization that in one more year I'll be entering my 30's seems just unfathomable to me.

So many questions flood through my mind. Have I done everything I wanted to do with my life up until this point? (No, of course not!) Does getting older mean getting more responsible? (Only time will tell I suppose.) Is who I am really affected so much by a number? A year? A chronological fact?

I was depressed in the days leading up to my actual birthday. I'd tried to throw a last minute party the preceeding Saturday, which almost no one could attend. I usually tend to try to put so much focus on celebrating my birthday that I sometimes forget to do any real soul searching or personal growth that might actually help make the passing of a year more of a positive thing.

My birthday fell on a Tuesday this year, and as midnight rolled around that Monday night, I was on the phone with Jamie chatting away. He was the first to wish me a Happy Birthday, and a four hour conversation proceeded. Somehow between midnight and 4am, when I finally got off the phone, my entire perspective on my birthday had changed. I'd thought a lot about how far i'd come since my last birthday.

Last year I had been living in Maine, and I came up to New York and celebrated with some friends at the Duplex. My friend Kristina had asked me "So when are you finally moving back to the city?"

"Soon." I had replied.

"Oh please. You've been saying that for years!" I remember my friend Samara teasing.

And it was in that moment that I realized there wasn't anything holding me back anymore. That it was time to move forward. I realized that night that I wanted to be living in New York again before my next birthday rolled around.

So, as I turn age 29, the final year of my 20's I find myself perhaps not everywhere I thought I would be by now. But I'm getting there. I'm taking the steps and doing the work. In my time, certainly. Baby steps somedays, and great leaps and bounds other days. But i'm taking those steps.

In the year that's passed since my 28'th birthday, I've achieved a lot for myself. For the last year of my 20's I expect to achieve a lot more, and perhaps to sew any remaining wild oats and gear up for something that I find to be almost as exciting as it is terrifying: my 30's.

I'm not ready for them yet, but I've got a whole year to get ready!

Bring it on!