My New York Times

Live from Chicago!

2008-09-18T05:33:00.001-07:00

Five more days stand between me and my first class as a bona fide journalism grad student, but these days my mind is stuck on trivial, mundane tasks like finding bedding that's softer than a hardwood floor.

I already did the hard part and found an apartment within two days of touching down in Chicago and I even baked a tasty loaf of banana bread for my friend as a thank you for letting me crash on his futon while I hunt for said bedding.

But actually furnishing my room is turning out to be my most difficult task, which is really saying something considering how I burned and possibly gassed myself while making the banana bread.

My old college roommate saved my butt big time when he let me stay at his place. His apartment is north of downtown Chicago and south of the Northwestern campus so I've had the opportunity to reacquaint myself with the joys of public transportation during my frequent bargain-hunting and sightseeing trips.

My best bargain so far is my new room, which is about three blocks from campus. It's big enough to fit one and a half Hummers and it's got four windows and a closet and all for the low, low price of 500 bucks a month, including utilities. My fellow apartment-mates are a Chinese marketing grad student and some dude whose name may or may not be "Car" – the Chinese marketing grad student is a little difficult to understand over the phone sometimes.

The city itself rushes around like New York but the short walking distances and waterfront parks give Chicago the small-city charm of San Francisco. Attractions like Millenium Park are extremely well cared for and the dining is excellent. I highly recommend a Kobe burger if you ever temporarily lose your mind and want to toss twenty dollars on a cheeseburger.

My to-do list over the next five days includes buying textbooks, hauling my stuff uptown to my new place, getting internet access installed (already ordered it), and last but not least, finding a damn bed.

The Perfect Storm: When Polarizing Politics meets the Blogosphere

2008-09-02T04:04:00.000-07:00

As of Tuesday morning it looks like New Orleans avoided the worst of Hurricane Gustav although the city did not escape unscathed, with several deaths attributed to traffic accidents and falling trees. Meanwhile, a different kind of storm has been gusting its way across the political landscape.

Perhaps you've heard of Alaska Governor Sarah Palin?

It's pretty hard to avoid news of Sen. McCain's new running mate. Flip through ABC, NBC, FOX, or CNN and you'll get nearly equal coverage of Hurricane Gustav and the latest on Sarah Palin and her family.

Click on any news website and the focus on Sarah Palin is even more intense.

Now I'm as guilty as the next guy of hunting down info on Mrs. Palin's involvement in "troopergate," her support for the Alaska Independent Party, and her switching stances on the "bridge to nowhere," but the judgmental frenzy about Mrs. Palin's pregnant teenaged daughter highlights everything that is wrong about twenty-four hour news coverage dominated by highly partisan politics.

I think, deep down, most people wish health and happiness for young Bristol Palin. But both sides can't help holding her up as a symbol to further their own causes. For conservatives, Bristol's decision to carry her child to term validates her mother's pro-life beliefs. For liberals, that same decision represents a right that the girls' mother wishes to rob from everyone else.

The situation is really much more complex than that because Bristol Palin's actions are also being interpreted through the lens of family values, sexual education policies, religious beliefs, and countless others.

Bristol Palin doesn't deserve this scrutiny, but she stands right in the center of a fierce political debate that has been stirred to extraordinary fervor thanks to the blogosphere. Presidential races can turn best friends into snapping dogs, and blogs and other online news outlets now spread more information (both rumor and fact) and amplify opinionated voices in a way that wasn't possible even four years ago.

In a fairer world, Senators McCain and Obama would clearly state their views on abortion, foreign policy, education, the economy, and every other major issue and the media would demand explanations when their words or actions were inconsistent with their promises. Unfortunately, we've been settling for the play-by-play which, while exciting, merely tells us what to think or gives new excuses for everyone to bang their heads against each other like crotchety goats.

As disturbing as this situation is, at the very least it's helping me understand what happens when a pervasive media (and I'm including blogs in that term because the distinction between amateur blogs and mainstream media outlets is getting harder and harder to see) loses sight of the facts for the compelling but false and/or inappropriate narrative.

Getting Back to Nature

2008-08-04T21:07:00.001-07:00

Last weekend I hiked with my dad up a muddy, windy trail to a peak on the Ko'o'lau Range, one of the highest points on Oahu. A downpour drenched us within minutes of entering the trail and we chuckled to ourselves when hikers around us slipped into swan dives and back slides on the slick path. Then I got to enjoy a laugh all to myself when my dad tripped onto his belly and did his best mud angel impression. At the summit we could see miles of beaches and bright turquoise waters and the dark purple ocean beyond the reefs. We were up high enough that the clouds raced by above our heads like giant tumbleweeds made of grey, bushy pubic hair.

My family used to be quite familiar with nature. I've seen photographs of me and my brother enjoying the Yosemite camping grounds from inside our strollers while my mother hulked over our little bodies like a 4'11" mama bear. I remember going on regular hikes with my brother, my dad, and our uncles and cousins. My brother frequently displayed a divining rod-like ability to locate any body of water on a trail, be it a puddle or a lake, and then fall into it. I can also recall at least two occasions I thought I poisoned myself when I tried to sample a plant and instead tasted a flavor that belongs on a spice rack under the label "Nature's Ass."

I have a lot of fond memories of the Great Outdoors, but, like a friend who drifted apart after high school, we haven't seen too much of each other lately. It's been years, actually. When my family left California, we felt like we'd left all the best hiking trails behind. Then we hooked up our internet connection and later came our plasma screen television, and by then nature had become one more channel amongst hundreds of others featuring better car chases and more gratuitous head explosions.

My dad rediscovered his love for photography a few years ago and -- who'd of thought? -- Hawaii has been a great place to find breathtaking vistas. He began taking trips to outer islands like Maui, Kauai, and the Big Island. Then I started joining him to see what he'd been seeing.

A couple months ago I hiked with the family up into a bamboo forest on Maui. The trail is dry and dusty for a couple of miles before a bridge delivers you smack dab into a peaceful green forest that belongs in one of those inspiration posters. A path takes people deep inside the bamboo until the sun is almost blocked out overhead, even at noon on a clear, bright day. The wind is constant up there and everything sways back and forth with a soft "whooshing" sound. It's very peaceful and hearing and feeling that place is worth a couple of days without my computer.

My Modeling Days are Over

2008-06-25T14:28:00.001-07:00

Several weeks ago I banged the ring finger on my right hand playing basketball and it swelled until it felt like a cold baby carrot jammed into my finger socket. I didn't let that stop me from grabbing, touching, and rubbing things willy-nilly but when I examined my still-throbbing finger yesterday, I noticed that it was still red and swollen and now also crooked enough to perform the "Smooth Criminal" dance in Michael Jackson's Moonwalker video.

When I was in college, a friend claimed that his mom hand modeled part-time and that he was an over-sized cuticle away from being a hand model himself. I put my mitts in his and asked for his honest evaluation. (Keep in mind this was before America's Got Talent when fewer opportunities existed to simultaneously display and humiliate oneself). My friend gave me the once over, nodding. He pronounced my paws well-proportioned and suitably delicate with the caveat that they were likely too small to get work in the industry.

I didn't pursue any hand-modeling work, but I always kept the possibility in the back of my mind in case things didn't work out relying on my brain for a living. But that opportunity may have galloped into the sunset now that I'm damaged goods.

I chalk this experience up to one more sign that age and decrepit-ness are catching up to me. I recently turned twenty-five -- thank you, thank you -- and signs of my advancing years are becoming harder to ignore. The lone white hair on my body, curiously placed on the second toe of my right foot, is growing at an alarming rate. My thighs and buttocks become inflamed after a few hours throwing bowling balls on the Wii (not to mention the Wii Fitness regiment says my athletic age is forty-four).

Perhaps the most dramatic sign that I'm getting older is my recent attempt to watch what I eat. My months in New York helped me slim down thanks to my soup-and-crackers diet, and I've tried to limit my meal portions to keep those few extra pounds off. The process reeks of the long-term thinking which I've long avoided, but my speedos have never hugged me so gently in all the right places. (kidding)

I may have subjected my finger to irreversible damage by avoiding a doctor for the last few weeks and the constant rubbing and grabbing probably hasn't helped either. I suppose it's time to admit that I'm getting older and my hand-modeling days are behind me, if they ever existed in the first place. Heaven help me, I may have to rely on my brain after all.

The Write Stuff

2008-06-13T14:30:00.000-07:00

It's said that you don't fully understand something until you can teach it to another person. If that's true, then I'm about to learn if all my years of reading guides and pounding keyboards have imbued me with a deeper understanding of the writing craft when I begin tutoring my cousin in preparation for his SATs and college application essays.

I've read plenty of books on writing and the two most commonly stated prerequisites for strong prose are 1) reading everything you can get your hands on and 2) writing frequently and in large quantities. Apparently there are no shortcuts.

My cousin is a smart enough guy but he doesn't like to read and he certainly doesn't like to write. He's planning to become an engineer; a profession, which, until recently, he didn't think required any writing skills. Fortunately, my cousin realized that everybody benefits from an improved ability to communicate, especially when that ability grants access to an institution of higher learning.

My plan is to attack my cousin's reluctance with a two-pronged campaign by forcing him to read and write every day. The initial goal is to make writing approachable, so I'll be assigning him free-writing exercises. Later on, we'll work on improving the clarity, brevity, and energy of his pieces but he must become comfortable putting pencil to paper (or finger to keyboard) first.

The second prong of my tutoring offensive will focus on reading critically. I'll be assigning On Writing Well by William Zinsser and I'll also require my cousin to read his choice of material with the idea that he examine the author's organization and stylistic choices.

I'm looking forward to working with my cousin and in the process I expect to learn a thing or two myself.

Photography One-Doh-One

2008-05-14T12:57:00.000-07:00

Jeff Jarvis once told a crowd of prospective CUNY Journalism students (including me) that the best preparation for graduate studies in journalism is to read actively, write frequently, and develop the technological skills that all reporters are expected to know. Since I'm currently unencumbered with employment, I decided to follow his advice and learn how to take pictures.

My dad is an avid photographer so it wasn't long before I was armed and outfitted with thousands of dollars worth of equipment that I was hopeless unqualified to use. Still, I shambled my way through some beaches and awkwardly pushed some buttons and it soon dawned on me that golfing and photograph-ing have a lot in common.

I didn't take this picture, but I do tie it together (that's me in the center)

Both activities make me very uncomfortable; in golf, trailing teams like to enjoy the spectacle of me hacking at my ball like a butcher cutting up a slab of meat. When I pretend to be a photographer, I can feel passer-bys's eyes measuring my dad's huge camera clutched in my hands, then judging my pained expression, and finally concluding that I am waiting in the bushes because I'm trying to snap a primo shot of twelve-year-old flanking.

The biggest similarity, however, lies in the aching promise of semi-adequacy. Whacking your way through a golf course and snapping a photo that doesn't incorporate your thumb requires suffering through a hundred bad shots before a hint of mediocrity will excite you beyond rational thought and convince you that your next photo of a perfectly composed sparkling landscape, or primo twelve-year-old flanking, is one more button click away.

The one photo without my thumb

Fortunately, my dad has enough toys to make even the most amateur photographer (me) look like I know what I'm doing, so roughly one photo turned out okay. Here it is. And before you ask, Hawaii does not normally look like Mars except when viewed through an infrared lens.

Job Hunting in Hawaii

2008-05-13T01:44:00.001-07:00

Now that I'm back in Hawaii and free of the drudgery that is paying rent and wearing pants around the house, I can instead focus on preparing myself for a journalism career by reading a lot, writing a lot, and (failing at) job hunting a lot.

I nabbed my New York job and apartment through Craigslist, but so far locating a decent paying job that's tangentially related to writing has been more painful than that time in elementary school when some guy parked his 20 lbs. backpack atop my gonads. At least I've unearthed a few chuckles from the steamy crapshoot of Craigslist job listings.

Here are some of my favorites:

Get in Now or Slap Yourself Later! $1000 Daily - As far as I know, slapping myself shouldn't cost me a thousand bucks.
Don't not try this unless you need money! - I need money... so I shouldn't try this?
My 8 year old daughter makes more money than you! - The sad thing about this ad is that it's probably true.
Lazy guy makes $1500 a day. He'll show you how - I found this listing tempting, but I couldn't muster the energy to investigate further. I'm holding out for $2000 daily.
It's literally raining money at my house! Want some? - This actually sounds legitimate. Literally.

So which listing do you think I should look into?

Things I Learned in New York

2008-05-08T04:10:00.001-07:00

I lived in New York for nearly seven months. Here are a few things I learned during that time.

New Yorkers follow the Yankees and Knicks no matter their respective levels of douchebaggery
People dress much better on the East Coast than the West Coast
I still can't dance
Alcohol does not make me a better dancer

Plenty of jobs exist in NY if you're not afraid to be creative and/or freaky
Finding a good apartment and reasonable roommates is a lifetime goal
Subways are awesome
Always have a plan for yourself. Don't just live for the weekends
Nobody can support you like family

Good lessons all.

The Journey Continues

2008-05-01T16:39:00.000-07:00

In the last two weeks, I've mailed my $500 check to Medill to reserve my enrollment, turned down the other programs I was considering, and, oh yeah, quit my job and moved back to Hawaii.

It's been a busy two weeks.

I debated for a long, long time between staying in New York and studying at CUNY versus moving to Chicago and attending Medill at Northwestern. I've seen CUNY up close and their program would have given me the training, connections, and support to get into a journalism career but, despite not having visited Medill, my research convinced me their program would give me a better edge in the long run thanks to their established network and first-rate faculty.

Both programs offered me full tuition scholarships, so even though I didn't have to weigh costs when comparing the programs, financial considerations still played a major role in my return to Hawaii.

Staying in New York was a no-brainer if I planned to attend CUNY, but when I decided to attend Medill I realized I had a new option. When I first moved out to New York I purchased a round trip ticket that included an April 29th return flight that made me look damn near prescient.

I don't recommend quitting your job and moving across the country in less than two weeks but I'm living proof that it's possible.

I gave my bosses a five-day notice and spent my last week in NY packing and giving away my belongings. Fortunately, my brother, my landlord, and a very generous friend in Chicago were on-board with my efforts and played huge roles in my not breaking down into a whimpering ball of tears.

Yesterday I went to the beach and found myself more than little surprised at my sudden change in surroundings. I'm here in Hawaii to save money and half of that plan is getting rent-free accommodations from my folks and the other half involves actually making more money. I haven't quite figured out how to do that yet.

However, I will be writing and updating this site more frequently, which is ironic since the next few months will most likely be less interesting than the previous seven. Classes don't start until the end of September but I'm planning to use the intervening months to hone my writing and practice this thing called "reporting."

I think this summer will be fun and busy. Just not as busy as the last two weeks.

My Trip to USC: Part Deux

2008-04-21T12:11:00.000-07:00

Recently I wrote flippantly about my trip to USC. In many ways (the missed flights, complete lack of sleep, etc.) I was amused by my excursion to the west coast but I also gained invaluable insight into how I chose the journalism program I will ultimately attend (which isn't USC, as I'll explain why).

Among the program's major selling points was the faculty and their demonstrated commitment to use force if necessary in beating writing fundamentals into students. I admit that I write by ear -- grammar and syntax be damned -- so having logical rules and structure to prop up my pieces would be eminently desirable. Even my roommate, a USC undergrad in the same department, spoke highly (if with a margin of frustration) about the program's emphasis on writing fundamentals.

The classes I attended also proved the instructors' credentials. One instructor explained an editorial decision he made that directly led to the current brouhaha about a presidential candidate's "bitter" comments. You may have heard of this controversy. That instructor's class centered entirely around the ethical and managerial decisions borne out of this real-life example.

Current students spoke often of the plum interning jobs available through USC's journalism department and their foreign country intern program also intrigued me despite it's unpaid status. You can't argue that USC has impressive connections in the industry and one student told me she suppressed her Bruin loyalties to join the department for exactly that reason.

I know very little about cameras, microphones, and other tools of the journalism trade but U of Southern California's technological offerings nonetheless impressed me. Every student gets their own mic and camera pack at the beginning of the year to use or abuse as they see fit. I don't think any other program gives out equipment that freely.

Sounds great right? USC stresses strong writing, detailed reporting, and offers the technology and connections to make a near-seamless transition into the journalism racket.

However, two major considerations convinced me to choose a different program.

The lesser of the two considerations was L.A itself. As much as my roots are in the west coast, Los Angeles does not appeal to me in the same way as New York City or Chicago. L.A. sprawls like a husky woman relaxing at the beach while NYC and Chicago swirl in compact eddies of activity.

I really dislike driving and NYC's subway system is hands down my favorite mode of transportation. Chicago's transit system might not be as extensive nor reliable as NY's but it still offers the convenience to traverse, study, and learn the city better than I could ever hope to do with L.A.

But even greater than my dislike of driving is my dislike for being in debt and attending USC's Journalism department would send me heavily into debt.

I don't care about being rich. I'll be attending journalism grad school so that may go without saying, but I can't justify taking on greater financial burdens in the midst of uncertain financial times. Hypothetically, I could land a lucrative job in the near future and afford to summit a mountain of debt, but I don't want to bet the house on it.

Ergo, therefore, in sum total, I won't be attending USC. They impressed me and they wowed me but the entire package wasn't exactly what I was looking for.

USC = Uggh, Soy Consado

2008-04-20T01:22:00.000-07:00

I'm getting closer and closer towards choosing which journalism school to attend but before I reveal my choice I'll first recap my entire trip to USC.

Monday:

3am - Stagger home from another night of intensive television watching and internet surfing.

4am - 6am - Calculate how much sleep I'll get before having to wake up and prepare for flight.

6:30am-9am - Sleep. Frequently scratch myself.

9:15am-10:30am - Shower and undergo beauty routine consisting mostly of vigorous toweling and generous deodorizing.

10:45am-10:47am - Pack.

10:47am-12:45pm - Run errands and stuff face with food.

12:46pm-4:10pm - Step on wrong subway train and promptly fall asleep. Wake up in time to realize that I'm screwed.

4:15pm - Get rejected from flight. Pay $75 for a later flight and scramble to change all appointments. Nap

9:15pm - midnight (local time) - Think about how much I hate flying. Do it anyway.

Tuesday:

8:00am-6:30pm - Meet faculty and see department. Become simultaneously impressed with program and convinced I shouldn't go there.

7pm-11pm - Try to reroute flight to stop by Northwestern's campus. Fail then nap.

11pm-3:30am - Eat huge Carl's Jr. burger and not sleep because my stomach is tired of my abuse.

4:30am-7am - Wait at airport. Eat more fast food and silently add contribution to green house effect.

7am-4pm (local time) - Realize that I still hate flying. Do it anyway, again.

5pm-midnight - Sleep and completely screw up anything resembling a normal circadian rhythm.

Analysis of trip to come.

Whirlwind Romance

2008-04-14T09:44:00.000-07:00

I'm typing this literally with one buttock on the chair as I prepare for my hot date with USC. The admissions staff arranged for all my transportation and accomodations so all I have to do is show up to their Journalism Department preview and not say anything incredibly stupid.

Enjoy your week in the meantime!

I Got In - Now What?

2008-04-06T01:24:00.000-07:00

My head was initially filled with warm fuzzies after I was accepted into nearly every journalism program I applied to (Columbia apparently wanted to buck the trend), but that early elation has slowly ebbed away over the last few days to be replaced by an almost physical need to really think about my choices.

My physical needs have been further exacerbated due to some important missing information -- namely financial aid offers -- from several programs. I finished my taxes in record time to speed up the process but another couple of weeks may pass before I have a clearer idea of where I can realistically expect to attend.

However, I do know that CUNY has awarded me a scholarship for full tuition. This means that I would still have to pay for my own books and living expenses but I wouldn't have to spend a penny for any class. This will be key because it's unlikely I'll be able to handle my course load and a job on the side.

I may have a similar arrangement at Northwestern if I'm fortunate enough to win a scholarship for which I've been nominated. The scholarship is based on potential leadership ability so I'm not getting my hopes up. It's nice to think about a potential free ride at Northwestern but the accompanying uncertainty over my chances drives home exactly how precarious my financial situation is.

In the meantime, I'm left to consider all the other ways I can parse my options.

In no particular order, I have the University of Southern California (USC), the City University of New York (CUNY), Medill at Northwestern, and New York University (NYU) to consider as possible destinations.

Based on reputation alone, Northwestern and NYU would probably top the list followed by USC and then CUNY. Judging a program by its reputation may seem shallow but journalism programs are supposed to act as a direct pipeline towards a staff position on a newspaper or magazine and a department's reputation is largely based on its ability to do just that.

Breaking the programs down by curriculum has proved to be more complicated. I applied to schools with a demonstrated emphasis on training professional newsroom skills; attending each program should not only prepare me for a journalism career but each department also offers programs in multimedia and feature-length article writing that would help me find a place within the converging worlds of (multi)media.

Like in other fields, the key to finding a full-time gig after graduating will probably run through an internship. Each department offers assistance in finding internships but only CUNY requires its students to complete one. CUNY has made an internship a required component of its summer session but also guarantees a stipend if the internship doesn't already provide one. The other departments highly recommend internship experience but none offer anything matching CUNY's level of support.

If it sounds like I'm favoring CUNY then we're probably on the same page since I have by far the most experience with the program. I've already sat down on one of their classes and not only felt comfortable doing so but I already feel a strong rapport with some of the teachers. Their program is very new (I would be joining its third class, I think) but it's well-funded, features state of the art equipment, has experienced professionals on staff with strong connections to the rest of the industry, and their department is brimming with the energy and enthusiasm of an entity that is still new and young enough to operate without the burden of excessive bureaucracy.

CUNY stands out in all the important areas but one: reputation. They're still so new that a degree from CUNY won't carry nearly the prestige (or potential hiring strength, which is by far more important) as a degree from another, more established program.

Which takes me back to Medill at Northwestern. Medill is recognized as either the top or number two program in journalism and its facilities are without a doubt comparable to CUNY's. Its staff is probably amongst the most respected in the field, but there is more of an academic bent to the program that isn't as in line with my own interests. I wouldn't be going wrong by receiving my graduate education at Northwestern and they're the only department I'm considering that offers opportunities to travel and work abroad -- something I'm definitely interested in.

On the negative side, I'd have to pick up and relocate to Chicago to attend Medill. I did enjoy the week I spent in the Windy City a few years back and I even have an old friend in the neighborhood, but it's been incredibly helpful living a stone throw away from my dear little brother.

Rounding out my choices are NYU and USC. NYU offers similar advantages to CUNY with unparalleled access to top-flight magazines and newspapers here in New York. Its reputation is greater than CUNY's. Unfortunately, NYU uses the most difficult system for offering financial aid by matching outside offers. I'm not terribly excited about looking for more funding, but I may have to no matter which institution I end up attending.

I probably haven't given USC enough of my attention yet. It ended up on my list because my roommate recommended its program based on its strong connection to LA papers (apparently the LA Times is next door), his sister's referral for the graduate journalism department, and his attendance as an undergrad. I can also add that USC's emphasis on multimedia reporting is among the most innovative in the country and their staff is also well respected. I know I didn't receive any department scholarships but it's also possible that their financial aid offer could be very supportive. I've also been contacted by one of their professors who shares an alma mater with me.

Sometimes -- like right now -- thinking really hard can also be really tiring.

But at least one benefit from all this pondering is the crystallizing sense of what lies before me.

I expect I'll be working my butt off to master those writing techniques I've spent the last several years learning by trial and error. I'll almost certainly have to confront a number of apprehensions about sticking my nose in places it isn't wanted and then voicing questions I'll be terrified to speak.

Without a doubt I will spend at least one night (possibly more like fifty) fretting over an assignment that's due the next day. I know I'll fall in love with a piece I'll be working on only to have it ripped to shreds by an editor with nothing but good intentions. I somehow imagine that I'll finally find a nice pair of shoes I'll enjoy wearing that aren't sneakers.

I also fully expect the journey to be worth every minute and every penny, even if I can't really afford it.

Thank you, Graduate Admissions Gods

2008-03-27T16:02:00.000-07:00

The Graduate Admissions Gods must have been pleased by my words last night because they've responded to my blog-offering with great tidings: admission to Northwestern and NYU.

I actually was admitted to Northwestern almost two weeks ago but I didn't learn of it until the NW admissions office called me today to find out why I've been such a slowpoke in checking my application status.

Barely minutes later I also received an email telling me that I've been nominated for a full-ride at NW. And when I went to pick up my NW acceptance packet in the mail, lo and behold but an NYU packet was riding piggy-back.

Excuse me while I go burn some incense and quiver with happiness.

Waiting...

2008-03-26T02:10:00.000-07:00

I'm currently in the midst of that old admissions game known as "waiting for the mail." I've had the good fortune to hear back from USC with an acceptance letter. I'm also 90% certain that I'll be awarded acceptance into CUNY's program if the level of their wooing is any indication.

I have no idea what to expect from the other schools.

My focus lately has fallen on other topics, which is probably for the best. I've encountered a frustrating rash of computer problems the last couple of weeks which has all but stopped me from writing anything new. I've re-learned that taking a few days off from writing, whether it's a simple blog post like this or a lengthy article with actual value to society (obviously I'm not writing from experience on that second item), can make a blank page look awfully intimidating.

Every book or quote about writing I've ever read somehow makes the point that it is difficult. I tend to agree with those statements. If I were a wittier person I'd even say that the only people who can face a blank page without any fear are those making paper airplanes. Actually that's not half bad.

In any case, it's going to be important for me to keep on trucking -- and writing. If I were a more pompous person I'd say that I need to keep honing my craft, but I think I'd have to wear a bowtie and smoke a pipe to get away with those words and I barely remember to zip my fly half the time. Not to mention smoke makes me wheeze like a four-year-old with a clogged nose.

So here's to waiting for the big news in the mail, and not forgetting to take care of business in the meantime.

Moving On or Moving Out

2008-02-08T06:36:00.000-08:00

I helped one of my roommates move out today as he apparently decided to leave New York and head back home. I say apparently because he didn't tell anyone that he was moving. In fact, the only way we knew he had moved out was when I opened his door yesterday afternoon and found nothing but dirty carpet, lingering smoke residue, and an old pair of dress shoes in the closet. I immediately thought of Tom Arnold in True Lies when he complained about his ex-wife who took everything when she left him, right down to the ice cube trays in the freezer.

I can shake my head and chuckle at the situation because I'm not my landlord who is now missing one third of a rent check (we came into the apartment separately so we don't pay our rent together). I think my apartment-survivor's-guilt led me to vacuum my ex-roommate's room for my landlord but otherwise I'm relatively unaffected by his sudden getaway.

My ex-roommate, who I will call Brent because that's his name, was obviously having a difficult time since he moved here from Rhode Island in early December. He's twenty-five and the oldest of our (ex) trio of roommates but I could tell that he had done the least growing up. One late night while we were chatting he admitted to me that his parents still cleaned up all his messes for him: tuition bills, speeding tickets, moving costs, you name it. It was that same night that he told me (not in so many words, but the message was clear) that he often walked the streets because he was lonely and that beer was "his most favorite thing in the world."

And even though Brent lied to me about his plans I can't help but feel some sympathy for his situation.

A couple month ago I was in a similar conundrum though it now feels like it happened closer to a year ago. I was juggling impending grad school applications and the pressures of my internship, and one night I hit my first snag in my new night job. When I got back to my apartment at three or four in the morning I took to the streets like Brent did and I called home.

My parents listened to my challenges and declared their unconditional support for me. But then they urged me to keep trying. I was already considering waiting another year for my grad school applications but they helped me realize that no matter how long I waited, I would have to buckle down at some point. And if I didn't get in, well, I already faced that possibility anyway. A month later I'm very, very glad I followed their advice. It certainly wasn't easy moving past that difficult period but I know now I made the right decision to keep moving forward.

I'm not sure if Brent made a similar call back home. I suspect he did because I'm pretty certain he was very short on money and would have needed his family's help once again to move out. It's too bad he wasn't able to make a different decision because now he'll have to erase the last two months of his life from his resume and his housing history and he'll have nothing to show for it but another mess his parents had to clean up for him.

It's a struggle to not think less of him for what he did. He lied to myself and my roommate. He may have shorted us on his share of the utilities (I'm not sure if he settled with my roommate), and my landlord told me that Brent lied to her face about moving out. They crossed paths in our building's stairwell amidst moving furniture and he said that he was staying put. The poor sap.

I suppose I could have tried harder to reach out to him, but that's hard to do when somebody holds back their true intentions from you.

I'm going to do my best to remember Brent. Because I know I'll be running into challenging spots for the rest of my life, and when I do I'll think WWBD -- "What would Brent do?" And then I'll do the opposite.

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

2008-02-04T16:34:00.000-08:00

Nearly two weeks have passed since I took Columbia's written application test so I had fallen out of my "professional journalist" mindset by the time I went in for an interview today at CUNY.

I blame my late work hours for part of my lack of focus and I blame my attempt at maintaining a pre-noon wake-up call for the rest -- that misguided project has only succeeded in making me sleepy anytime I'm not physically drooling on my pillow.

I also blame the Super Bowl for being so exciting that I had to watch it and stay out late enough that I had to spend the night at my brother's apartment before dragging myself to my place in the morning. My interview was at 3pm but I always have to set aside an extra four or five hours to dress myself appropriately. Because I suck at dressing appropriately, see.

Case in point: Of all the clothes I wore at my interview today, the shoes, pants, shirt, and sweater were either purchased today or else acquired so recently they had never been worn. I'm pretty certain tags were still sticking out of me when I walked through CUNY's doors.

Despite my inability to dress myself in a professional manner I think I actually made a good impression. I even got the impression that CUNY wants me.

I certainly found a lot to like after touring their facilities. They have state of the art equipment, and by state of the art equipment I mean stuff that flashes and beeps and does things that I can't comprehend. The students were dressed very nicely, which isn't necessarily a positive sign for me, but the faculty members I spoke to were very energetic, experienced, and more than happy to answer my questions.

If I had to compare my interview with a movie, I'd go with The Cutting Edge. I played the role of Doug Dorsey, the hockey player who carries an extra helmet to throw up in before the game because the first ten minutes of my interview I was so nervous and inarticulate that I felt like one of those zoo monkeys that hoots a lot but can't effectively communicate intelligent thought. Thankfully my interviewer was a very kind lady who didn't acknowledge my brief regression into the animal kingdom.

CUNY's program looks fresh (it's less than two years old), hungry, motivated and thorough. It also doesn't hurt that it's a fourth of the cost of any other program I've applied to.

I'll definitely be going back to check out a class or a talk and hopefully I'll remember not to hoot at anyone. Or throw up.

Is my stomach half full or half empty?

2008-01-22T03:52:00.000-08:00

Did you know you can be full and hungry at the same time? I'm suffering from this condition at the moment, which is one of the reasons I'm writing this and not, say, sleeping.

The meal was great going in at least. I ate some gumbo, buttered crawfish tail bread, and onion rings at a tiny southern food restaurant in the East Village with my brother and an acquaintance who regaled us with tales of printing a thousand dollar ad in the newspaper of himself in tightie-whities humping his friend's face. Did I mention the crawfish bread was delicious?

Unfortunately, most of my meals aren't that interesting. I try to budget myself with $10 for general food/consumption needs every day. This usually translates into Campbell's soup, Chinese take out, Subway, or sometimes a panini.

The other night I was going to try a greek, meat-on-a-stick meal from the cart down the block from my apartment but when I walked by after work (around 3:30am) I changed my mind after the dude running the cart started peeing in the street. I try to avoid mixing urine with meat.

I realize I'm talking about stuff that's not even tangentially related to journalism but my stomach is demanding food and also demanding that I pass gas. It is not a comfortable combination and precludes thoughtful discussions.

I will be updating soon with something resembling a real post.

Merry Christmas, Hope you didn't go to the zoo

2007-12-26T08:05:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas everyone! And Happy Holidays for the non-Christmas-celebrating folk!

I hope you didn't go to the zoo yesterday.

One down, four to go

2007-12-19T00:48:00.000-08:00

I started this blog to chronicle my path to a journalism career. Today (or yesterday, by now) may have marked a crucial date in that journey, or, it may prove to be completely insignificant; I'm not really sure yet. That's because today (or yesterday) I mailed in my first journalism application. The letters have been sent, the sites have been clicked and my credit card has been charged so it's done for good or ill.

Overall I think my application is solid. My background is a bit of a smorgasboard and I'm not certain if that's to my detriment. Some programs seem to prefer "dedicated" students who have already cut their teeth in a journalism capacity while others apparently welcome students of all backgrounds. My education should help and my test scores were neither spectacular nor embarrassing. My statement of purpose didn't take shape until two days before my deadline (isn't that always the case?) but thanks to a mentor and an old college friend I sharpened it up considerably right up until a half hour before the deadline. The writing samples I submitted, three in total, are big question marks for me. Obviously, my portfolio (and I use quotation marks when I say that) is comprised almost entirely of opinion pieces; all I write about are my opinions on television shows, movies, sports, my life, etc. I could have dusted off some old college papers but when I read those I could actually hear all the words being stretched out to meet length requirements. I could have edited those bad boys for a slimmer fit, but even then they would still sound like academic papers. In the end I went with my opinions and we'll see how far they take me.

Now that my application is submitted I feel like I can catch my breath for the first time in weeks. I think I almost lost it once or twice during the last month. I've been trying to make headway on my internship, but it has oftentimes taken a backseat to my night job, my applications, and, certainly not least, my visiting parents. Plus I got sick so that sucked too.

The problem with the whole scenario is that writing application essays isn't like normal work. You can't say "I need four more hours on this and then I'll be done." You have to stick with that bastard until you get that burst of inspiration and smack the hell out of it until it says exactly what you want. I've never had an easy time writing about myself and as much as I like myself, it's super hard making yourself sound qualified and certain when you're anything but.

Poor me.

My parents flew home on Monday but I get to see them again for New Year's. We all have tickets to see UH at the Sugar Bowl (Go Warriors!) and my brother and I will fly down to New Orleans for a few days to soak in the sights, the game, and most likely some alcohol. Seriously though, I am such a lightweight that I may regret this trip. Okay, probably not.

Take everyone and I'll keep you all posted. Literally.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2007-11-22T11:15:00.000-08:00

Enjoy Turkey Day!

Don't forget to unbutton your pants after eating. You don't want to accidentally shoot somebody's eye out.

Leave it to Korea to make internets addiction sound like a bad thing

2007-11-18T08:38:00.000-08:00

Well, not exactly. Rising levels of internets access in South Korea has allegedly led to rising levels of internets addiction cases. The problem has become so severe, with millions of young people - most of them boys - spending up to 17 hours online every day, that the New York Times is reporting that the South Korean government is funding a boot-camp style rehab center to wean the pasty fellows off the virtual teat.

I was going to write a 10 page rebuttal to the preposterous notion that the internets is addicting but I'm still working on my "Why Babies Need More Asbestos in their Diet" paper.

The article provides further entertainment at the expense of South Korea's image with this sparkling exchange between a Boot Camp instructor and an internets addicted waif-boy.

“Do you have anything to tell your mother?” the drill instructor shouted from below.
“No!” he yelled back.
“Tell your mother you love her!” ordered the instructor.
“I love you, my parents!” he replied.

I have no doubt that some major network is already turning this into a reality television show.

I'm Smart and also not so Smart

2007-11-17T18:45:00.001-08:00

I have no idea what the criteria is for this evaluation but my site was rated College level for the Blog Readability Test. You must be this intelligent [--------------------------------] to read My New York Times. The Spoon also rated at a College level while my sports page, The Athlete's Footnotes, scored at a High School level. Dumb jocks.

Get a Cash Advance

New internets, job, filthy conversations

2007-11-16T22:58:00.001-08:00

The internets is up and running in my apartment and what was the first thing I did? Immediately interrupt my busy schedule of practicing the GREs (verbal stuff is getting there, quantitative stuff not so much) to watch television shows!

In other news...

I got hired the other day by an advertising research company. Apparently advertising research is conducted in survey "game" formats to measure people's recall/recognition of advertised products (either in commercials or within the programs themselves). Writing these survey questions requires knowledge of the programming, grammar, and a little creative flair. I guess I have enough of all three and I'll also be trained to write questions for sports programming (because that pays even better!). It's not the sexiest job in the world, but it pays pretty well.

In an unrelated note, I was at the library a couple days ago. I was on the phone so I paused before entering. Besides me was a well-dressed African-American man also talking on the phone. I was listening to his conversation with half an ear when I realized that he was quietly spewing the nastiest sequence of words I have ever heard. Pure, straight-up nastiness. The amazing thing was that even though I was certain he was berating the person on the other end of the line, they moved on to holding a natural, normal conversation just a few minutes later.

New York people are weird.

I'm a Star!

2007-11-09T17:11:00.000-08:00

This is an old photo, but it proves I'm about 76% of the way to being a star.

Show some love

2007-11-07T10:20:00.000-08:00

Want to see more? Check out my post.

Check out another new post by yours truly. Since I've been given the green light to write whatever I want, I decided to write a more humorous sports post about crazy NFL athletes. I've also reverted to my old habit of including pictures and captions.

Please check it out and have your friends/enemies read it as well. Also leave a comment if you can. It's charity, baby.

Changes in New York weather, my job

2007-11-06T21:26:00.000-08:00

This past week the temperature in New York has hovered just above 50 degrees Fahrenheit which is roughly the cutoff point for when my building’s heater turns on. If it were any warmer then I’d be all roses and candy canes. If it were any colder I’d be snug inside my heated room. As it currently stands, I’m neither hot nor cold except for my feet and extremities which have apparently seceded from the rest of my body and migrated to Iceland when I wasn’t looking.

Today my feet weren’t the only things making unexpected departures. That clever segue requires some explanation: today at work I was busily typing away in my 2 square feet of desk space for nearly forty-five minutes before finding out my supervisor (and only collaborator) had left the company. Of course, this was made worse by the fact I found all of this out via AIM from my departed supervisor – nobody in the office thought to tell little ole me.

I immediately had one of those “Oh crap! The walls are closing in on me!” sensations and if I wasn’t on the 9th floor I would’ve tried sneaking out the bathroom window. Fortunately, I met a new supervisor and he not only gave me permission to do/write whatever I want on the different networks, he encouraged me to do so! Being an unpaid intern must make it easy to keep me around.

The crazy thing is that despite my lowly status as an unpaid intern, I’ve been “promoted” to full access to every single darned thing on every system at Next New Networks. If I seriously wanted to screw up the company I could literally go in and delete EVERYTHING. (If you work at Next New Networks and are reading this, please remember that I would never think of doing such a thing, no matter what I just typed in the preceding sentence.)

Back at home…

I think in my last post I wrote about getting two whole rooms to myself. Well, that didn’t exactly work out and I ended up getting a single room, although that’s proven to be plenty big for me. Technically, I actually have the entire apartment to myself since my roommate hasn’t moved in and my third roommate does not exist as of yet. As a result, I’ve been able to focus on my studies and writing.

Bright days ahead

2007-10-28T01:23:00.001-07:00

I was all set to post an extremely caustic (yet hilarious) rant on apartment managers/landlords and the various and myriad ways they cause me distress, but then I actually got a place and lost my ranting mood (although I might post it later). Please join me in a great sigh of relief. Uggggggghhhhh.

I don't live right here, but my new abode isn't too far away

My new place is in Queens so it's safer and cleaner than much of Brooklyn. It's near tons of restaurants, a movie theater (I think), and it's on a direct 10-15 minute route to the Manhattan offices I'm working in. Included in my deal are complete furnishings, closet space, windows... oh yes, and a second room! I won't say how much it all costs, but it's a pretty sweet deal and I'm lucky to have walked in on it when I did because I'm basically sharing a three bedroom apartment with one other person. So I also get access to a complete kitchen (because sandwiches and cereal making requires plenty of space) and a bathroom that does not look like it's been used to test America's next generation of biological weapons.

Of course, with my new apartment will come new responsibilities. I'll almost certainly have to work full time (possibly no weekends for me) and the next couple of months will be full on nose to the grindstone with respect to my journalism applications. I move in to my new place November 1st but now that I have my living situation arranged (with some more money and paperwork to be completed in the next few days), I can return my focus to getting into grad school. Although this coming week I also have my first interview for a paid position. My fingers are officially crossed.

Busy Busy

2007-10-24T23:27:00.000-07:00

I really should be sleeping right now, but I've got a lot to share. I'll start with the important stuff.

My internship is actually starting off pretty well. I've already put up one of my own posts (it's not my best work but it's a small, heartfelt little sports plea from one Lakers fan to Kobe Bryant). Within five minutes of being in the office building I was given the power (though not necessarily the authority) to change any text on any site in their entire network of ten plus websites. I already knew they were doing some high quality work, but now I'm glimpsing the behind-the-scenes action and the energy is infectious, in a good way. I must also be doing something right because my supervisor asked me to come in an extra day this week. I'm doing everything for free, of course, so that may not mean as much as it could but I still take it as a positive sign.

My rooming situation has been infected with a different kind of energy. First I had a room with my brother, then another room opened up for me, then it was taken by the squatter, then I was going to move out, then the room opened up again, then it was taken by the squatter again, and supposedly now the room is mine again. Despite it being available I'm probably going to find my own room elsewhere. I've been up front with my brother and our third guy about my needing a stable environment where I can write and study and so far this apartment hasn't been that place. My brother is bummed about it but he respects my decision. Now I just need to actually find a place.

I've already looked at one place that could work pretty well, but it's in a completely different community from what I'm used to - Caribbean folk. It's starting to grow on me, but I want to hold out for a place that is a little larger and more convenient with food options. I'm probably being greedy but I don't want to latch on to the first place I see.

I've done my best to study with the free time I've had, but between working, searching for an apartment and all the talking related to the whole rooming affair I haven't had a super focused time with my test preparations. It's a little confusing because the Verbal and Writing sections are probably the really important sections but they're also already my strengths. I want to be focused with my studies but not neglect other parts of my preparation as well. It's kind of easy to forget that I also need to prepare separate writing statements for different journalism programs and that'll take time too.

Oh and one final light story. Earlier today it started to rain on me while I was walking through the Union Square area so I decided to find an umbrella (and also a urinal - rain makes me pee). I found a mini Walmart location on my phone so I wandered around a three block radius enough times to start etching groove marks on the pavement. Finally I turned to a blonde woman beside me at the cross walk and used my polite gentleman voice to get her attention. Then she turned to face me and it suddenly became clear that her dog wasn't out there for the exercise or to spew little poopoo coils on the sidewalk but instead the dog was there to help her "see" because she was blind.

Awwwwkward.

I automatically felt a little embarrassed for what I was going to ask, but then I remembered that one of my good friends from college is blind and he has a better sense of direction than I do with both eyes and a map, so I asked the woman for directions anyway. Turns out she wasn't familiar with the area and she actually needed my help to find her destination which only took a few minutes and made me feel better about myself as a human being.

An hour later I was taking the subway home with my brother when the same woman and her doggie somehow darted in front of me and blocked me from getting into the turnstile. She got tangled up in the turnstile herself, being blind with a frisky dog after all, and I asked her if she was alright. She didn't recognize me but I finally realized why this woman looked so familiar.

She was none other than Eleanor Roosevelt.

Now I definitely need to sleep. Take care everyone.

New York offers surprises, kicks in the nads

2007-10-22T02:53:00.000-07:00

Much has happened in the last few days, some of it good and some of it less so.

The Good:
The other day I met a nice Christian guy who wanted me to work in the ghettos with him to spread the word of God. I met him, along with his friend, as they tried to punt a seven pound rat across Union Square. The rat kept coming back to play but the guy's foot failed to spread God's message to that particular rodent.

The less so:
I've found several warm, comfortable places to study for the GREs. No matter how warm or comfortable I am, however, I still have difficulty with the many Quantitative Comparisons that include more letters than my name.

The much less so:
I may have to find my own room/apartment/hovel. I love my brother to death, and our third roommate is a nice enough guy, but they haven't proven to be very reliable nor forthcoming in our search for a new home. With the new month fast approaching, finding an apartment in time is becoming increasingly unlikely and rent prices have become more of an issue. While staying at our current place had seemed like a reasonable option, I may not actually have priority on the available room thanks to an unfortunate interpretation of squatter's rights.

I had expected a certain number of surprises in New York, but I didn't anticipate this kind of moving difficulties. Although if I expected a surprise then it would cease being a surprise, wouldn't it? In case you were wondering about the title, my potential need to get my own place was the metaphorical kick in the nads.

My To-Do List 10/17/07: A Retrospective

2007-10-17T23:03:00.000-07:00

- Eat a full meal
Check - I ate at the golden arches! Yummy.

-Write another article for my internship
Half check - I thought of an idea. It's the thought that counts, right?

Everything's A OK

-Find a study place for the GREs
Check - I found a big ole library in Manhattan that's open fairly late. Plus, it has work stations and free wireless access. On the negative side, it took me about two hours to get back home because I got off the train to get a soda and literally walked in circles for forty five minutes. I wasn't being crazy, just lost.

-Study for GREs
Check - I did random questions on my computer until my body slipped into full nap mode in the middle of the library. That's how I know I'm in the groove.

-Eat another meal
Half check - I ate a plastic bowl of cheerios, but it was regular cheerios and regular cheerios are the worst kind of cheerios.

-Occasionally think about getting a job
No check - I was completely carefree on this one. But I think I'll get to watch a movie tomorrow with an old friend in town. Who needs work when you've got the movies? Don't answer that.

My To-Do List 10/17/07

2007-10-17T01:53:00.001-07:00

My To Do List for today:

-Eat a full meal (yesterday's pizza was devoured by my roommates before I woke up today)

-Write another article post for my internship (I wrote my first one last night, still waiting to get a reply on it from my "editor")

-Find a study place for the GREs. I'm thinking a library.

-Study for GREs. Perhaps peruse a Math for Retards book while I'm in the zone.

1) Lick paw 2) Lick balls 3) Repeat

-Eat another meal (I may have to start licking leftovers to claim it for later)

-Occasionally think about getting a job

Learn about, kill, Hipsters

2007-10-16T14:19:00.000-07:00

'The mainstream hipster is not an artist or a musician. He has an office job, and wears one hat to work and another at night.' Presumably, the latter is a trucker—or a porkpie—hat.

Read the rest of the article, entitled "Why the Hipster must Die."

New York Fashion

2007-10-16T14:12:00.001-07:00

There’s a Levi commercial where this guy is putting on jeans except they’re so tight that he has to bunny hop to get them up his legs and every time he jumps the entire world rocks with the massive force of his bunny hop. I don’t think this is an exaggeration for a lot of people in New York because it’s practically a rule for anyone kind of artsy under the age of forty to wear pants tight enough for people behind you to count the rolls of cellulite on your butt cheeks. Since I’m a fashion bumpkin it’s easy for me to notice this dress style and even a few others you might not be familiar with.

The Hipster: The main demographic for the tight Levi jeans commercial. This group consists mostly of young, artsy professional types who also wear small t-shirts, frayed sweaters, stylishly mussed hair and glasses. You might guess they spent five dollars on their outfit or five hundred dollars and you have an even chance of choosing correctly.

The Prepster: The jeans are baggier, the shoes whiter and collars starchier with this group. Think of Kanye West or that frat guy who date raped your freshman roommate’s girlfriend and you’ll have an idea of what the Prepster looks like.

The Pan Handler: There isn’t so much of a uniform dress code for the Pan Handler as there is a uniform smell. Sometimes there are shoes, sometimes callused feet suffice. Most Pan Handlers have rolling luggage bags and a reservation at the park bench that you wanted to sit on.

The Professional: Suits and ties. Blah.

The Retired Old Person: I used to think that old people everywhere wore oversized khakis and $20 sneakers. Now I know it’s a fact. Aesthetically, the Retired Old Person’s outfit is even worse than the Pan Handler’s. Plus, wearing a belt at neck-level isn’t fooling anyone.

The Ethnic: I don’t want to be racist here but ethnic groups in New York tend to dress similarly. It’s okay for me to say this because I’m a minority. If I were white than you could legitimately call me racist, but my Mexican-ness gives me a free pass. Speaking of Mexicans, most wear paint splattered dungarees, boots, and plaid long sleeve shirts. Sometimes a baseball cap is added for a little twist. Those of the African-American persuasion like to wear baggier clothing. The Hasidic Jews in the neighborhood keep it real with tastefully somber black coats.

If Three's Company, Five's a Biohazard

2007-10-16T14:10:00.000-07:00

Right now Brooklyn is almost thirty degrees colder than my old room back in Hawaii and that's not even counting the wind chill factor which normally only matters when you're homeless, but in terms of heat retainment my new apartment is on par with a mesh speedo. If only that were the biggest adjustment in my living conditions.

For the last two years I've had the good fortune to live by myself, not counting the fourteen months I spent at home with my parents. I could leave out cans and wrappers, turn the lights off or walk around sans mesh speedo whenever I felt like it.

Now I have two roommates (four if you count squatters) and my freewheeling, mesh speedo shedding ways are out and in their place are some changes I'm not too excited about.

1) Dirt boldly going where it damn well shouldn't

It's a little disturbing seeing a white bathroom with white tiles, white walls, and a white ceiling and then looking down to see that it has a brown shower floor. Did I say disturbing? I meant infectious.

2) No food

I've barely spent any time in Brooklyn so I don't have a clue where to eat nearby. Everybody orders out or goes out but no food survives long enough to make it back to the apartment. I found a cookie in my pocket earlier today and I'm pretty certain I accidentally ate part of the wrapper.

3) Squatters

As I mentioned earlier, there are a couple of squatters in the apartment that make life a little complicated. One guy seems like he's legitimately here for only a couple of days. He may actually be gone already. Another guy is not gone. Apparently he has not been gone for roughly five months, taking first the couch and now a room without ever spending a single penny for rent. He sucks. If I could, I'd kick his ass out right now, but one of the legitimate roommates still takes pity on this guy and allows him to take the room that should be mine. I'm not bitter. Honest.

4) Television monopoly

I like having total remote control of the television. But it's been days since my hand has grasped that symbol for male virility. Once again I am talking about the remote.

Stayin' Alive

2007-10-16T14:09:00.002-07:00

After living with my parents for a year, keeping myself alive has never seemed like such a chore. Since I landed in New York I’ve had a cup of hot chocolate and half a cookie from Starbucks (I dropped it on the floor and wasn’t quite hungry enough to finish it off), a steak sandwich, a slice of pizza, and a beer. That may sound like a lot but it’s all I’ve eaten in about three days. I fear what my stool will look like, or even worse, how it will feel coming out. Ugh.

Despite my unintentional dieting efforts I haven’t felt super hungry until right this minute. Probably because I’ve been walking around in a semi-delirious state thanks to some awful weather and a head-cold, not to mention the expected jet lag. Thursday’s rainy weather might have been tolerable if you’re from Minnesota or Russia, but it wasn’t that great coming from Hawaii. Friday was pleasantly sunny but with cutting winds that knifed through my shirts like Rosie O’Donnell parting the line at an all you can eat buffet.

Technically, I’m still unemployed but even in my weakened state I’ve made progress on that front. I’ve started an internship at Next New Networks which is a fun and innovative company and they aren’t paying me to say that (not that they’re paying me for anything at this point, but moving on). NNN is the home of some truly entertaining and original content with “channels” comprised of video podcasts, blogs, and heavy viewer/reader participation on everything from green living to do it yourself fashion to the best of sports blogs. My humble duty is to assist with the planning and editing of the different channels’ written blog entries. I haven’t learned the details yet but I’m sure to find out once my first work day begins next Tuesday.

It may not be obvious yet but I'm planning to keep this blog a lot less structured than my other babies, The Spoon and The Athlete's Footnotes. I think it makes sense that my life's blog should be just as scattered and frantic-looking as I am.

Join me next time at My New York Times to find out if I'll ever eat a full meal or find a job. Personally, I'm dying to find out.

Welcome

2007-10-16T14:09:00.001-07:00

Hawaii may be a paradise but since my dreams of becoming a hula dancer ended horrifically in the sixth grade (don't ask), I always knew my future lay elsewhere. With the support of my family and the encouragement of my very small army of blogging fans (hey guys!), I packed my bags and boarded a plane for New York. My goal is to get some real world experience before enrolling in a Journalism graduate program and beginning a career as a super bad-ass writer. This blog will be my man-diary for the strange, fascinating, and absolutely-not-tragic events that happen along the way.