An 80 Year Old Transvestite = AWESOME

I've been working with an 80 year old Transvestite this past week for a travel show that we're recording on the Queen Mary 2. She's not just any 80 year old transvestite, she's the most popular travel writer in the history of the world. She's pretty rad. So naturally if your office is producing a travel show, who better to invite?

Today her car service was suppose to pick her up at 11:00AM at her Central Park Hotel, well...as any 80 year old transvestite would have it, she's late--which seemingly has sent me into some sort of panic mode. We need her to be on the Ship (which is in Brooklyn--way bad traffic) by noon, because the show happens to be, well...about her! So hurry it up driver, get her to the ship!

Scratch that last paragraph. Our 80 year old transvestite was not late! The car company sent two cars to her, and got confused because she got in the first one. The car company is so hectically disorganized that I'll never allow anyone in my office to contract them out again. In fact, I called and canceled their contract and just wrote up a new one with a different car company. I'm not really easy to irritate, but incompetency is not allowed--it does nothing but cause more work in the long run!

I'm Gonna Kick Your ASPEN!

Post-traumatic stress syndrome may have been invented as a fancy term to describe the sufferings of our soldiers when they return from war...but today I think my office may be suffering from some sort of stress syndrome. This week has been hectically busy, and its only getting more busy tomorrow. Take 3 events, an office relocation, a server crash and wrap them up in a tortilla..that's our day. :)

On a side note Aspen wrote to me about tortillas. Haha. She's nuts (that's why she dresses like There's Something About Mary). I'll never forget those funny days back in high school when we would ride to school without a radio. So we just sang, and honked the horn and we were good to go.

Our favorite (well...mine at least) was always black bean burritos.

Well..I have to get back to work...I'm too busy to be writing a blog, but I needed to take time away from work just to get my head straight.

ASPEN--I'll write you more later!

iYo Necesito la Comida de Mexicana!

I'm looking for a good Mexican restaurant somewhere in New York City...which may be impossible since I'm from California. I have high standards when it comes to Mexican food. South Carolina didn't fare well with Mexican food, and so far either does NYC.

The funny thing is most non Western residents of the US don't really like Mexican food (or so I have discovered since I've lived on the East Coast for the past 8 months). It's strange to think what a staple Mexican food is in the typical Californian's diet. Just ask Michael Ludwig, he eats Mexican every day, and on most days he was able to talk me and 15 of our closest Friends into joining him at Isidro's. A place that helps you pack on the pounds. Which, for some reason...makes me think of surfing.

I'd really like to go surfing right now. Its sad to think that my board is sitting in Erin Clare's and Sephanie Brereton's lovely garage on Bundage Court (Sort of like bondage...Erin's favorite pastime to practice on Stephanie). Speaking of Erin Clare--she likes to make me sad. She calls me in the middle of the night or sends text messages exclaiming that she misses me (which I know she does), but sometimes I think she does it just to wake me up. Which I more than appreciate. Even more so, I appreciate the drunk dials from her, Michael, and Stephanie. Lovely bunch of coconuts aren't they? Thanks for the calls last night!

Alexa...this one's for you!

Alexa,
Remember that time we were on our way to a regatta in Bakersfield? It was the fall championships and the whole team was there. We sailed really well, the best we ever did up to that point in fact. Remember lying like dead people in the van, seeing the falling cow sign, or better yet the 12 year old who hit on you, and then tried to give you beer and talk to you about sex and partying? Or even better--remember finding the cat in the van at the Stanford regatta? Haha. Ahh….I miss you, you were the best thing that ever happened to my sailing career. Who would have thought a few years down the road that we would actually be winning those things? Or even better yet, who would have ever thought that I would learn to control my competitive spirit and stay in my own boat when I got pissed off. Haha…I hate UCLA.

Anyways I was thinking about our Van rides the other day and remembered the time we were going to the Pacific Coast Championships in Long Beach. I was in the back seat of the van with Greg and Lauren and you were one seat ahead of me with Erika. I was telling you that I thought it was weird how I always look like a giant in photos. You thought I was full of shit, and kept making fun of me, so I made you take a picture. You then took Lauren’s camera, took a picture of Greg, Lauren and I, and sure enough…I looked like a GIANT. It looked like I was holding my live human dinner under my arms. We laughed for hours, and every time I think about it I still get a good chuckle! Get in my belly!

Well, here’s to that memory:

Learning to Fly

One of my favorite theories in life is that everyone's got a theme song. I love when you see someone walking down the street to their theme song. It's AWESOME! Most people never take the time to figure out their theme song, truth is, it changes all the time. However, mine has been constant for about three years now.

Learning to Fly by Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers:

Well I started out down a dirty road
Started out, all alone
And the sun went down, as I crossed the hill
The town lit up, the world got still

I’m learning to fly, but I ain’t got wings,
Coming down, is the hardest thing

Well the good old days, may not return
And the rocks might melt, and the sea may burn

I’m learning to fl , but I ain’t got wings
Coming down is the hardest thing

Well some say life, will beat you down
Break your heart, steal your crown
So I started out, for God knows where
But I guess Ill know ,when I get there

I’m learning to fly, around the clouds
But what goes up, must come down

I’m learning to fly, but I ain’t got wings
Coming down, is the hardest thing
I’m learning to fly, around the clouds
But what goes up, must come down

I’m learning to fly,
I’m learning to fly

Work...

My job is AWESOME!

The Post College "Blues"

Bye Bye California, hello South Carolina, no scratch that...New York? Whoa...what? Is it true? Am I suffering from the post-college "blues"?

In May I was walking across a stage, in July I was living out of a backpack, in August I was working in South Carolina, now its almost March and I'm scrapping by living life in New York. Am I caught in the everlasting never-ending gobstopper that we call "Searching for one's purpose"? I think, wait...it's not healthy to think...but...is it? I think...well I think I like to think. I think thinking is something I like to think about. I think, that is what I do.

Life has been nothing short of a whirlwind these past few months. First comes graduation, then a summer abroad, then comes returning to the states, buckling down and growing up. To tell the truth growing up isn't as easy as I thought it would be. In fact it’s sort of hard, and it takes a lot of thinking. I spend most of my time contemplating life in general. Which way is left, which way is north, which way is the way I want to go?

Graduating from college, may be the most difficult thing I ever did (the getting good grades, over achieving, winning awards part was easy), but it’s the part that takes place after the ceremony that gets difficult. Graduation left me lost, and I know I'm not the only one. Even my friends with plans like grad school, or dream jobs are in complete shambles. No one knows what to do, or if it’s the right choice. Even worse, we all fear it may be the dreaded *wrong choice*. Which, we're all allowed to make time and time again.

I made what I thought was the wrong choice. That choice being South Carolina. But that wrong choice couldn't have been more right. I met amazing people and opened some new doors. It led me to New York and an amazing job. I just had to get in my car and gamble away my future. When you're suffering from the post-college "blues" you have nothing to lose. Just do it!

Does the Devil Really Wear Prada?

Some may say "yes", but I beg to differ. I'm willing to bet that Devil wears whatever he or she damn well pleases.

I land in NY only to find out that the company I am going to work for is going out of business. In one harsh flick of a wand I find myself loaned to a fashion house as a personal assistant to a famous NY designer for Fashion Week at Bryant Park. How cool is that?

For every negative aspect of life, there are two positive aspects. Sometimes its hard to remember this, and let me tell you...I struggle with this theory a great deal. After I was loaned out I felt small, unimportant, and worthless, which doesn't always feel good. Luckily, NY has a way of changing your mood, making everything seem positive.

After being loaned out, I would dread going to work in an industry known as fashion. Every time I walked up through what I dubbed "the dragons mouth" (A green hallway with red stairs), I thought to myself about the misery of fashion that laid on the other side of a little tiny white door. After taking a deep breath, grabbing the dragon's throat by its tonsils and shoving the little white door open I found a world that was reminiscent of Willy Wonka, but instead of candy it was women's clothing. A world of knits, silks, furs (which I hate), laces, and God knows what else. All I knew is that my brain was hyper-extended and my mind was working like a revolving door. Going around, and around, and around again, keeping the cold out, but letting the new in. I was thrown for a loop, a loop of craziness that could have been the end of me. Fortunately, I had a light at the end of the tunnel. The opportunity to plan, put together, and execute a fashion show at Bryant Park.

Planning a fashion show at Fashion Week is harsh, complicated, and amazing, its something I never thought I'd ever get the chance to do. Seating arrangements are a science--not an art. Filling in gaps and making sure everything flows correctly is an art. A successful show, its a combination of art and science. Good thing I tend to favor both.

I have respect for the fashion industry and I'm definitely happy to have had the chance to get an inside look at how it works. Although I did meet the Devil, and let me tell you...Prada, is not what she is wearing.

"Quarter-Life Crisis"

I'm currently going through what I like to call the "Quarter-Life Crisis" its the new and improved take on the classic "Mid-Life Crisis" that my dad is classically fulfilling. The main difference between the two is of course money.

In one corner of the arena we have the victim of a "Quarter-Life Crisis". He must make financial decisions like rather or not he should buy a pillow to sleep on or an umbrella to stay dry. Because buying both doesn’t fit into his budget.

In the other corner of the arena we have the victim of a "Mid-Life Crisis" who can't determine rather he should buy a blue, silver, or red sports car.

The fight begins and its nothing short of spectacular. But in the end who should I bet on for the win? The young gun with the determination and reason to buy basic items that fulfill a specific need? Or should I bet on the old gun that buys luxury items for pleasure purposes? In the end its simple. Everyone goes through a "Quarter-Life Crisis" just look at the people around you.
A "Mid-Life Crisis" is no different, you just need to have the determination to fight. To kick a little ass from time to time.

The best part is, I'm willing to fight, and I'm willing to kick a little ass. Plus my cousin gave me an umbrella, so I bought the pillow.