Sunday, February 24, 2008

Slow Day After Zanzibar

I stand firmly convinced that a moderate amount of excess is necessary for a balanced soul. Sometimes the surest cure for a case of workaholism is a swift kick to the consciousness.

The upside is that my imagination is back on fire; the downside is that I'm too exhausted to do anything with it today.

Gonna make time this week to figure out what needs figuring out at work to make this gig permanent.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Working Late

Walking home through Chelsea past the open front of (what I presume is) a gay bar, I randomly heard—think I heard, at least—a word that made my day:

Vaginarian.

All this time, I thought I defied categorization. Clearly, I was wrong.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Cafe Angelique

I'm moving back to New York. Probably some time in April, if I can swing it.

California is a beautiful state with great weather, and is fantastic for outdoor getaways. But for now, I'm kinda over it. Living in the South Bay for a couple of years, at headquarters, has given me a lot of what I wanted: A taste for the West Coast; an exciting boost to my career; a chance to find my own style and voice in an environment that demands excellence, rather than settles for good enough (if that). Plus, now I can die saying, "I lived in California"—which, given the perspective I had on life growing up in Hampton Roads, is tantamount to saying "I lived on the Moon."

But being back in New York for the past couple of months has convinced me that this is the place that I really need to be right now. New York is where I headed after I cut ties with Virginia in 2005, and it's still the place where I feel the most at ease in the world.

This morning I had breakfast at a place on Bleeker Street called the Cafe Angelique—just as French as it sounds. In between the omelette and the salad—yes, apparently, the French have salads for breakfast, and now I can't blame them—and in between glimpsing at the students, the well-dressed retirees, the young couples, and the solitaires like myself, I noticed something else: I was having a perfectly great experience, by myself, surrounded in this place on all sides by the life and energy that makes New York uniquely its own phenomenon.

Sometime today I'll sign up for Improv clases at the UCB; I've been out of theatre for way too long, and what better way to throw myself into the heart and soul of the city? I hope that'll open other doors, too, especially to find people I can strum along with on my guitar for the first time in about a decade.

Though I still have the best job in the world and pour tons of energy and imagination and passion into it, there's something to be said for making time for yourself. At least in New York, there'll always be something to do with that time, and someone to do it with.