Got into an argument with A. I feel I live in the now more than she does, because she spends all her time putting off the things she really wants to do until she has a lot of money. She feels she lives more in the now because she’s entirely focused on making money. And there, in a nutshell, is just one of the fundamental differences in our perspectives.

It’s one of those arguments where you reach an impasse because the fundamental beliefs are too different. A few months ago, I would have kept trying because I know how significantly my perspective has impacted my life. More recently, I’ve decided its not worth banging my head against, because she doesn’t want to change. The best path is a combination of the two. Of course I want to be earning money. That doesn’t get in the way of my making it a priority to live my life now instead of putting it off. There’s no benefit to wasting my time sitting around until I get the job. Of course I put time and effort into my jobhunt, but the jobhunt is – frankly – only benefited by the time I spend pursuing my interests and projects, in numerous ways. And at the end of the day, I’m the one who is happy in my life. She’s the one who complains every week about being unhappy with hers.

On Friday, I went to the Museum of Art and Design – awesome exhibits! There was a papercuts exhibit- doesn’t really do justice to the amazing artworks to call it that. There was a German WWII tank – out of papers with Jewish Hebrew prayers on them – and stag beetles cut so they stood up out of the prayers. The artist described the stag beetles who normally hide in the desert sands but have the armor to defend themselves when necessary. Plus he did some kool technical adaptations out of respect for Jewish laws against destroying holy books – ie the beetles can fold back into place on the pages – they are not cut off (not entirely sure that solves the issue, but I was impressed nonetheless).

Pietro Ruffo, Youth of the Hills (2008)

Close up of the stag beetles. Pietro Ruffo, Youth of the Hills (2008)

There was also a very kool exhibit on Madeleine Albright’s pins. It was fascinating to see how she used her jewelry to convey messages and set the tone for her work. And can you imagine, a pin made out of a piece of the Berlin Wall? I can’t find an image of it, but that fascinates me.

Things are kind of amazing lately.

My projects are taking off and I have several good friends whom I’m in touch with nearly every day. I’m creating a community out of my friends, introducing them to one another, making beneficial connections. My leads are hopefully finally leading to professional opportunities. My projects put me in touch with a lot of wonderful people and open the chances to do a lot of fun things. Best of all is the positive response I’m getting – I mean, I love the process, but I can’t deny I’m hooked on seeing my project’s visitor stats rise and hearing people praise the work I’m doing. Better, I love seeing my work actually helping people.

For the first three weeks, it felt a bit like a treadmill. Like I was trying to keep up, constantly. Every week I’d promise myself to be a day ahead on the process. Which should have made me feel guilty about taking the weekend completely off.

But I didn’t, except for a few twinges on Sunday.

This weekend was supposed to be pretty crazy. Friday was a research field trip, then the weekend had a scheduled 3-5 mile hike, apple picking, a soccer game, and a trip to the crafts fair. Much of this included hour-long drives.

I was disappointed that the soccer game was canceled, but the rest? I didn’t miss it. Instead I made applesauce and read in the sunlight from the kitchen window. I started making crafty holiday cards (which are coming out wonderfully!). I spent hours talking to a friend. I joined in a Rock Band concert with my nephew and sister. I got a whole bag of free books to send to some of my soldiers.

It was all exactly what I needed.

I’m not really used to two-day weekends. In Israel, we don’t have them. And in museums, you don’t have them either. So by Sunday I admit I was a little antsy. But I enjoyed having the openness to focus the energy on whatever most appealed to me.

I’d say it worked. I was SO productive today! Probably also helped to work outside for most of the morning.

Here’s what I love about NYC: the beauty is in the small things, tiny details that you miss in the first-sight awe of skyscrapers, crowds, and flashing lights. My friend commented to me a few months ago that she thinks she’d feel lost in NYC – tiny, insignificant, forgotten. And I understand why; NYC does that to people. Until you acclimate. What I’ve learned to do instead is appreciate the countless stories, the countless individuals. To love the tiny details – the floral architecture on a doorway, the little boy playing in Washington Square Park, the bird watching passerbys.

NY City Center

Here’s what I love about North Jersey: People are friendly and open enough to let a complete stranger photograph them. There’s very little of the distance you feel between people who pass one another in NYC. Total strangers have handed me their fishing pole and taught me to fish; total strangers have let me stop them for a photograph, or stick around for two hours photographing their kids.

Father and son cast off

Years ago, when I lived in this same town as a child, a young married couple moved into the house next door.

They had a dog and cats – and I think they had a baby, but oddly enough I can’t remember for certain. Maybe because at that time, in this community, it was assumed that a young married couple buying their first house probably had a baby – so my brain has skipped over that detail.

I didn’t spend much time around them. They moved in just before we left the state.

But I do remember that they threw a housewarming party and invited all the neighbors. It made a very strong impression on me – the idea of opening your doors, welcoming everyone in, and making yourself part of your new community. I was only about ten years old, but I’ve always remembered that – and thought that I’d like to do that. I’d like to become the house where all the neighborhood kids drop by after school to say hi and have a cookie or pet the dog; I’d like to draw people into my home and make my kitchen and living room an extension of the community.

So I suppose it’s ironic that I haven’t met any of my sister’s neighbors. At first it was because of the temporary nature of the situation, but that rule doesn’t really hold anymore – I’ve decided to live and never wait until “later” for no good reason. I can’t live my life on hold, so I’m not. Besides, friends can stay in touch well beyond state lines, if I were to move far away.

So to be honest, it’s two things that have held me back. One is that it seems awkward to introduce myself and make friends with the neighbors if my sister isn’t going to feel similarly and open her home. Two is that… well, it still seems risky to me to trust strangers, even the ones living next door. I’m still figuring out how to best navigate that issue, since I refuse to spend the rest of my life in isolation from my surrounding community!

Anyways, I did finally meet some neighbors last night. They invited me and my sister to a meal this weekend. My sister asked to schedule it for a week when the boys will be with us, but it’s still progress.

It’s funny, actually. I know it’s been long in the making – months, really – but it feels like in the space of a week my life has suddenly become full of people. I don’t think an hour goes by without some form of contact with someone – my girlfriends, my sister, my friend from Habitat…. it’s almost overwhelming ocassionally. With people comes noise and mood and drama. But even when I need quiet moments, I’m grateful. I didn’t make many good friends in Pittsburgh, so it’s been a pretty lonely year since I left Baltimore. I’m not lonely anymore. I’ve learned that in the right places, I can make friends pretty easily. And I’ve learned that if I don’t inhibit myself – don’t put off ideas just because they are silly or random – then there’s a lot of joy to be had in the world.

So even though I feel sad when I think about moving – leaving behind soccer nights and some much-loved places and people – I know I’ll be able to do this again. Make friends, make a home, make a life.

It seems like everything is picking up…. except my professional life. My personal life – projects and friendships and developing routines – are all progressing – steadily, quickly. When I’m seeing so much quick return in my personal life, it makes it that much harder to push myself to keep trying in my professional life.

I’ve had two job interviews this month, two networking meetings, and contacted three places about internships… in addition to continuing to apply for job openings. In theory, things are progressing. In reality, they feel like continuing stagnation.

But I just got off a call with my parents, and for whatever reason I feel more ready to keep trying again. Maybe the positive feedback on one of my projects. I just feel better

What theorem would allow you to determine the circumference of an unfriendly, clawed koala bear at its fattest point?

What kind of triangle describes the shape of a kangaroo’s ears?

Doesn’t sound like I’m using my education to help my friend get into studying for his G-MAT, does it? But the truth is, I really am. One, because he’s been frustrated and was feeling a little unmotivated, but mostly because we remember information so much better if it amuses us or otherwise engages your emotions. I learned to use application in elementary school, when you always had to put your spelling or vocab words into sentences. I was creative and always tried to not just find a sentence, but find a good sentence (yes, yes, I’m an overachiever). And it always broke up the stress of a test if a question suddenly reminded me of something funny from studying. A little laughter would help my focus, since stress tends to make my head noisy.

I think I also felt some sympathy for the teacher who had to read through our tests. If my sentences could amuse them, why not try to?

Grad school and later reading only confirmed what I had known for years. As a writer, I’d always been aware of the role emotion plays in making your writing strong, memorable, and effective. And as a student, I’d spent years honing my study techniques. I love learning, and in a way that makes me more aware of what techniques work and what don’t – because if even I can’t get into the subject matter, then something isn’t working.

It’s funny. Even just trying to help my friend get into his G-MAT study mode via text message gave me a chance to feel that spark that drew me to museums and teaching. It’s all about finding ways to make information accessible – an enjoyable, interesting, worthwhile, lasting learning experience. Teaching taps into both my planning/analytical skills and my creativity, and that’s something I love about it.

I remember the first time I hung out with a large group of teenage guys.

That is, most of my friends in middle and high school were guys, but we tended to hang out in groups of two or three. Right now I’m thinking of the first time it was me, another girl, and ten guys.

I wasn’t expecting to be surprised – after all, I knew guys, right? But apparently two guys hanging out with a girl aren’t nearly as rough or crazy as ten guys ignoring two girls. I pretty much sat on the couch and stared.

I’m thinking of it because I’ve become largely acclimated to living with two teenage boys. I don’t flinch or worry if they start beating one another up on the couch just behind me, I’ve stopped questioning their appetites, and I’m surprised if the TV isn’t on to a sports game or comedy.

More, I miss them when the house is quiet. I’m bummed if the soccer game is postponed. And, as with all women with JMS (Jewish Mother Syndrome), I’m thrilled by little chances to feed them – and amused if I accidentally blow something up in the process, much to my older nephew’s delight.

9A.M. The sun is hidden behind clouds, leaving the world in a shadow that brings to mind late dusk or the earliest dawn.

And yet she stands out. Her back is straight, yet she appears huddled – the black and white stripes of her blanket falling in folds around her, her straight black hair shielding her face from the cool air. The bench she sits on is stone. Although brown leaves are piled at her feet, still more grow green on the trees to either side of her.

She sits on the Fifth Avenue bench, dressed for work, lost in contemplation.

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11:30A.M. He sits on a folding chair, far back, until someone stops to consider his watercolors. Cherry blossoms captured in a deep red, like a blanket of snow falling – a white tiger looking out at you – a home shrouded in blue mists among the mountains.

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12:00P.M. He sits on the park bench, surrounded by leaves, dogs and people passing by. He balances his laptop, his Blackberry in his right hand, opening a newspaper in his left – oblivious to the world, even my camera.

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Recreated Moment, 11:45A.M. I approach two women who are considering a map, ask if they are lost and/or need help (God knows how many times I have to ask for directions still). They don’t need help, but they tell me about themselves – their names are Dot and Sandy, and they are visiting from Canada. They’ve just seen the Frick, and are debating the Met or the Guggenheim next. They ask me where I’m from – apparently offering my help was a giveaway that I’m not a native New Yorker! We all agree, though, that New Yorkers are quite helpful – the trick is getting them to stop and pay attention. I’ve made a conscious decision in New York to smile at as many people as I can without making myself uncomfortable and to offer assistance whenever it looks appropriate. As a side benefit, I get to hear some cool accents!

I should get this on a t-shirt, yes?! :-p Or an apron. Or something. Lol. I could quilt it on a blanket to keep warm!