On NYC, Standards, and Self-Loathing.

Well hello.  I bet you weren't expecting to see me here.  I know, neither was it.

It's been a while.  I've been busy, I'm sorry.  To be fair, I did warn you.  In all honesty, over the last few months I haven't had anything to write about. At least, I thought I didn't.  I started school in January, and since then my life has been a whirlwind of charcoal drawings, funny-smelling acrylics, and coffee binges.  

I was reflecting recently on how I never update this blog.  And, to be fair, I made an agreement with myself from the get-go that I wasn't going to force it.  I don't have the time or the mental capacity to figure out what in my life is worth writing about.  If it demands to be written, it will make itself apparent. Right?  

Yes and no.

I was listening to someone speak recently, and he talked about how concerned our generation is with "grace."  And I realized the truth of the statement, at least for me.  We recognize situations as either graceful, or "awkward."  And I know personally, I am incredibly concerned with my reputation and how I am percieved.  I have a constant fear of coming across the wrong way, or misrepresenting myself.  And I realized this is a large part of the reason I have been very careful about what to post on this blog, and it has been holding me back.  I have been so afraid of the "awkward" that I don't expose myself at all.  So here's to attempted transparency.

Something that struck me recently about living in NYC, is how easy it is to feel like a failure.  When you are surrounded by a city full of ambition, energy and momentum, it is hard to feel justified when you are sitting at home eating a tub of ice cream and binge-watching reality TV.  There is (at least for me) a lot of pressure to succeed, and, failing that, at least be working toward success.  At all times.  It can be overwhelming.

I realized this weekend that I cannot constantly be moving.  I need down-time.  If I don't get it, I end up burnt out, with nothing but sub-par work and a dull sense of self-loathing to show for it.  And that just won't do.

It's easy to say the solution is to "not care" about what people think.  Ignore them - after all, I am the only one that is going to look out for my interests, right?  But it's not quite that simple.  I chose to live where I do.  And, as such, the aforementioned pressure is entirely self-imposed.  I don't have a personal motivator in my ear, making me feel like crap when i sit down for a breather (although, in some ways, I need that).  The real answer is to get over my own barriers and unrealistic standards.  And that can take some time.

But, in the meantime, I'll keep plugging away.

Don't Go Camping in November

Hello!  I figured now that I'm only working ONE job (woot!) and I have the time and money for excursions, and am back in Brooklyn, I'd start this little puppy up again.  I know, I know, she looks rusty.  But her engines solid, I promise.

I can't guarantee I'll update this regularly - it's kind of subject to my life and how interesting it happens to be at the moment (and let's face it, sometimes it can be pretty boring).  Now, come on, don't look at me like that.  It's not like we're dating, after all.

In any event, I figured last weekend would make a good first post.  I was approached by someone not long ago to plan a camping trip to a State Park that was supposed to have amazing views of the stars.  Let's camp, he said.  It'll be fun, he said.  Well, I love stars and I love like camping, so I thought, why not.  To his credit, originally this trip was supposed to take place in mid-October, but had to be post-poned.  Not that that would have made a huge difference. This friend person also convinced me that it would be a good idea to skip the tents and go right to hammocks.  In November.  That will be cold, I said.  It's November, I said.  Somehow, he managed to convince me that it was a good idea.

Luckily, this friend, let's call him Leonardo the Naive, has a car.  So on Friday we packed up the car, and took off.  Now let's take a moment and think about this for a moment - something we didn't do previously.  Seeing a lot of stars means it is very dark in this park.  Which means there can't be any lights.  For miles around.  It is also November, so it gets dark around 5 pm.  Having gotten off later than anticipated, we rolled in around 6:30.  We turned onto one long, desolate stretch of road, and didn't see another living soul for, I swear, fifty miles.  As we made the final turn toward the park, we noticed we only had a quarter of a tank of gas (which, according to Leo the Naive, is cause for complete and total panic).  I'll concede on this point, because the gas station we managed to find was isolated enough that they got away with charging $4.30/a gallon, when the last place we saw was running at about $3.20.  But anyway.  I digress.

So we got there, and apparently you are supposed to arrive before sunset, as it is a major no-no to have white lite flooding the park.  Oops.  This also meant that there was no one there to set us up with a camp site or take payment.  There was also no one else camping.  Considering the camp ground was physically open and we were able to drive in, and considering there was nowhere else to go for miles around, we decided the best course of action would be to set up camp, and, if necessary, ask forgiveness in the morning.

And, really, this was the moment I had been dreading.  We found our trees, (eventually) set up our hammocks, we each grabbed two sleeping bags, and said our goodnights.  The hardest part of the night wasn't getting int he hammock (mildly challenging), nor was it getting in two sleeping bags at once (somewhat more challenging).  It was getting in the two sleeping bags in the hammock, which involved a lot of wiggling, a lot of swinging, and really good balance (which, historically, I don't have a lot of). 

Now, it was cold.  Like, really cold.  My feet were instantly freezing, as all I had were socks.  Leo suggested I take off my coat and wrap it around my feet.  But a) I was not about to waste a perfectly good winter coat on just me feet, especially when my top half was freezing, too, and b) I was already situated, and it had take a LOT of doing to make that happen.  So no, I was settled.  I burrowed down in my sleeping back and had to cover my face with the sleeping bag, as it was too cold to have any part of me exposed to the air.  And that didn't really matter, anyway, since after all that, it was cloudy, and we couldn't see the stars, anyway.

On top of all that, a car kept driving around the campsite with it's headlights on.  It was the only car there (besides ours), so this was really, really odd.  We thought maybe they were wondering what we were doing there, but they obviously saw us, and never said anything.  They stopped in the middle of the field with their headlights still on for about half an hour before driving away.  Considering how isolated we were, that did not make me feel reassured about our situation.  Finally, I covered myself up again, closed my eyes, and tried to shiver myself to sleep.  And that's when I heard it.  The tell-tale tick tick tick on my sleeping bag.  It was snowing.  I was out.

I asked Leo the Naive for keys to the car, and he unlocked it for me, but did not join me in warming up where it was safer.  He was also Leo the Stubborn. 

In the morning, there was still no sign of life.  The forecast called for clouds again that night, and it just wasn't worth it.  We packed up and headed home for a warm bed and a hot meal.  We resolved to try again in the Spring.  Ultimately, I think it COULD have been doable, had we the right equipment.  Which we didn't.  So for now, I'll take my camping in the summer, thank you.