Thanks for the memories... catching up with Steve, and getting to know Diana.

I am in Northampton, MA at the moment realizing how all this time on the road is affecting me. Surreal takes on an entirely new meaning when 90% of your experiences are surreal. I am starting to look forward to doing stuff that has absolutely no "OH MY GOD!" factor, like deleting duplicate songs on my itunes, or doing laundry. TV doesn't do it for me at the moment. The more exciting my life gets, the more boring TV gets...and life has never been more exciting. For example..no idea where I am sleeping tonight. I am thinking a rest stop, who knows. I have been on the road long enough where I have to be really careful about money, and if I really want to finish this, then I am going to have to change my approach. I am in an Internet Cafe at the moment. It is so nice to sit in a normal frou frou eatery and get a regular meal and dessert while I catch up on my blogging, emails, journaling, and staying in touch with people. I had a great visit with Steve, and I have a new role-model meeting his wife, Diana. She is one of those people that excels in just about every area that impresses me the most these days. She has it more "together" than 99% of the people I know, yet she is very interesting. How do people do that? I always thought a certain level of flakiness was a necessary side effect, and price, for being creative...then there was Diana.

I am really craving normalcy after having a month long version of "This is your life", and this cafe really hits the spot. I need to pick between two things that costs money that makes me feel like a "normal" person. So, tonight it is either get whatever you want at the creme puff cafe, or get a motel. Oh, the adventures of being me right now. Today, I chose the crepes and cheesecake. Dan is putting me up tomorrow and Sunday in Rochester, NY...then I am off to see Pete for a night or perhaps two. Then, I am headed back to NY to see Kayanne and Marissa and hopefully many other people that I haven't been able to see quite yet. It is so hard to coordinate all of this stuff. There are too many people and moving parts for me to get all the details planned "just right", but I like to think that it is working out just right. I can keep saying that as long as I don't run out of money!! Ha, ha, ha. I think as long as I eventually finish this, then I did it just right. For someone who can't even keep track of her phone or her pants, it is a tall order for me to keep track of all the people, cities, emails, phone calls, blogs, journals, oil changes and financial details. So, I gotta just learn to laugh and trust a little more because perfection just isn't going to happen.

Oh yes, my visit with Steve and Diana. I haven't seen Steve since hmmm...18 years ago? Our friendship was very important to me in High School. I was cliqueless until I met Steve in my freshman or Sophomore year. Who knows how cliques form exactly, but he remembers me being one of the first girls to hang out with his gang of guy friends...and the gender mix stirred the clique stick... and before long, we had an official artsy/geeky/punk/hippy/freak social scene going on. Who knows how that played out exactly...the last thing you have in High School is perspective...but I was definitely there in the beginning of our strange dynasty. I had no social equity to speak of, but I had timing. That clique went on for grades and grades and broke off into sub-cliques of varying prestige.

It's funny to think there was ever a catch-all alternative clique. I would imagine cliques are a lot more specialized now that "alternative culture" is so mainstream. We thought we were the sh** back then...go " non conformity". The only common denominator was that we all wanted an identity that rejected mainstream culture. So, we had it all.... new wave people, geeky people, hipster people, artist people, skater people, punk rock people, gay people, political people, vegetarian people, hippy people, uptight people, slutty people, and many crossovers. We were like the hometown buffet of alternative 80s culture in suburban New York.

It was so interesting to talk to Steve about our impressions of all that, now that we are adults. It was quite uncomfortable and fascinating to revisit those awkward teenage years. I only stayed with Steve for two nights. Yet, I was able to identify the exact moment I developed several neurotic behaviors that haunt me to this very day. I toyed with the idea of going to a local Analyst and bringing Steve into my sessions to help with all the traumatic details of my High School experience. Oh, the possibilities....for now, I have my journals and my cat who is an outstanding listener, and talks only a little bit more than an actual therapist. Self actualization, here I come.

George and I were at the movies

I knew I would have some life changing experiences on this trip, but I didn't expect my new low of yesterday. I drove to a town, let me call it town X in the state of X, and it was all very innocent...didn't mean to tear apart the Christian Science Reading Room with my bare hands...sometimes you just find yourselves in situations. You know, we've all been there...right? Maybe not. So, there are a lot of self righteous people out there that claim to never have defaced a Christian Science Reading Room...come on goody two shoes, let me take you for a walk in my world.

Where do I start? Well, George was really mad at me for putting him back in the car after a few nights in a motel. He protested by propping himself up right behind my head and meowing directly into my ear for a few hours. He wanted to be very clear that he was not happy that I removed him his respite at the Red Roof Inn. So, eventually, he wore me down...and I took mercy on George and pulled over to let him stretch his legs. Unfortunately, his leash and harness were lost in NY along with my phone and my cool pants. It's like The Gaez Boys told me.... "You lose a lot of stuff on road trips".

My cat is not part of the "stuff" I am OK with losing. Within a minute of letting George out of the car, it thundered...and George got spooked, and ran down the block to the Christian Science Reading room. I was right behind him until he disappeared under the crawl space in the porch. Naturally, it starts to downpour the moment George got away from me. I couldn't go anywhere, in case George came out again, so I just sat in the rain...like an ass, trying in vane to get George to come to me. In the meantime, passerbys were having a good laugh at me bent over tyring to negotiate with a porch. It didn't take me long to realize this was funny because it was a really stupid to think that any cat would leave a dry comfortable little "spot" to come to their furious owner in the middle of a storm. Still, I gave it my best shot until I was completely soaked. Then, I looked for another way to get to him.

I circled the house, and saw the crawl space was isolated to the area under the porch...and there was no access. I knocked on the front door...nobody was home. I was starting to panic because it was so dark I couldn't see him anymore, and the more I looked for a loose board, or a latch, or entry way of any kind...the more I realized this situation really sucked. I didn't want to spend the night in the rain waiting for George to come out, and I was not leaving without my baby. I was getting a little desperate, and it was getting a little dark. Finally, it occured to me that my only option was to literally tear enough boards off this beautiful building so I could slip through the porch and retrieve my cat.

I looked around for "witnesses" and noticed the police station was right across the street. Seriously...the police station. I took my chances, and began to furiously pull boards off the side of The Christian Science Reading Room until there was enough space for me to squeeze in and get George. It is a good thing I was so mad and focused on getting him, because it was scary under there! It smelled like many things crawled, or were dragged in there, to die. I really didn't want to die under the porch of The Christian Science Reading room...call me picky, but I can think of better venues.

I finally found George and got him out of there and back into the car...what an ordeal. I was drenched, dirty, and really crazy looking by the time I was finished with this situation. I don't even think there is a moral to the story...except that morality and laws are more of a guideline than an absolute. Yes, there are extenuating circumstances sometimes. So, the police didn't see me, but what would God think about me tearing apart The Christian Science Reading Room? Hmmm. They aren't Catholic, so no penance or confession would get me out of the penalty box. It would just be too goofy to be sent to hell over it, so I have quite the theological dilemma on my hands. I tried to prop the boards up in relatively the same direction they were hanging before I yanked them off, but I don't think that would help me much. I am probably looking at 5,000 hours of detention in The Big Christian Science Reading Room in the sky for this. Oh well. At least I got my cat.

*By the way, this story is based on errrrr....pure fiction. Any similarities to actual event are purely coincidental. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. I have an alibi too. George and I were at the movies.

Catching up, catching my breath and trying not to forget my own name.

I am at a Starbucks in Enson, Connecticut. It has been a ridiculously long time since I blogged. It has been a pretty intense past few days. I run into the problem of posting my experiences honestly, and respecting everyone's privacy, and having anything left to write about that anyone wants to read. It isn't easy to balance everything. For the purposes of this blog, I will probably not get the balance right all the time...but I do the best I can.

I didn't have an Internet connection Friday through Sunday, and I just got my phone replaced...so, for whoever called and got the hobo message that I wasn't taking calls at the moment...I am back on the grid. There are certain things in this life that keep us grounded, and separate the normal people from the strange ones. Well...I crossed that line a while back someplace. I don't know if it was when I didn't have an address anymore, or an answer to the question "where are you from?", or a phone, or social interaction that wasn't a mind blowing experience with someone I hadn't seen in decades. I don't know when it happened. I have been on this trip for over a month now, and it happened...I am "strange". What was it Jim Morrison said about people like us? No one remembers your name? Well...interesting story about that....

On Friday I left Northampton, Massachusetts after a brief visit with my High School friend, Steve. I will head back there to see him again soon. We have a lot more catching up to do, but I needed to head out Friday morning to see another High School friend, Ben who lived a few hours away in Norfolk, Connecticut. I met Ben in High School. He was a few grades younger than me, and I remember him as brilliant, passionate, highly energetic, and not afraid to piss anyone off in the pursuit of expressing himself. I am happy to report that nothing changed there.

We met up at one of the two bars in the entire town around 5pm. Ben gave me a warm welcome. He sat down, ordered a coffee, and just as we started to catch up, half the town came to the bar and came up to chat with him. I think Ben knows everyone within a 20 mile radius, but I stole him away, and we went back to his house. I got George settled, myself unpacked, and ready to see the first attraction...a raging river Ben's backyard. I have never seen anyone with an actual, full river in their yard, so active, that it is too dangerous to swim in.

Ben had a giddy smile and said there was a lot left to see. He was right. It wasn't a long walk to find more stunning natural treasures all over town. We walked across the street to a waterfall...(again, I ask...who has a waterfall across the street from their house???....Ben does). We marveled, we took pictures, and we moved on to see the dam, the lake, swamplands, forests and the most serene natural beauty I have seen in years.

Ben and I laughed, told stories, bonded and headed out to the bar for a few drinks and conversation with his friends. Ben knew quite a few people I already mentioned on my blog, so we had a lot of memories to share over our beers. It was great to go over old times in Port Washington, and old friends almost seemed like they were there with us as we reminisced. Then, Ben asks "did you know Marjorie?".

OK...errrr...Hold the phones! What? I just looked at Ben to see if he was kidding. For anyone who doesn't know this...my first name is Marjorie, I switched to my middle name "Julia" after I graduated from High School and moved to California. My last name has stayed the same, even through marriage and divorce, but I did switch to my middle name in 1989. So...I had just spent a great day with someone who opened their home to me, and ultimately had no idea who I was, except that I was blogging about people he remembered and liked from High School.

It is funny. I came on this trip, partly to find myself again in my old friends and long-term relationships...I am looking for continuity in my life. I want to see what I am about in the eyes of other people who have known me from different times of my life and from different perspectives. Maybe I am having a bit of an identity crisis, but this surely was not helping. I didn't know what to say, or how to break the news of who I was. It was more than awkward. I didn't know how to handle the situation. I went out for some air, and when I got back...I still didn't know what to say. It was kind of a bummer to be forgotten, but on the bright side...Ben, who is a few years younger than I am, thought I was a few grades younger than he is. So, snaps to me for lookin' young. (Got to find the silver lining when life throws you some curves). I told Ben the next morning, and he was annoyed at me for not clearing it up right when I realized it, and I was annoyed with him for not telling me from the outset that he didn't remember who I was. We worked it out fairly quickly. It's not like those things happen very often where you have a prepared response or reaction...sometimes you just have to laugh and move on.

We had a great day driving around his town and checking out the phenomenal architecture...we walked down one street and I had to stop and gape, and pull my jaw off the ground. It just happened to be his parents house...it is one of the oldest buildings in Norfolk, it used to be owned by a founding father, Reverend...ummm, someone or other. It is a stunning house. OK, on behalf of my four librarian friends, I had to marvel at the most impressive small town library I have ever seen and wonder what your reaction to it would have been. OMG. I still feel like I imagined the damned library....it was phenomenal. Ben and I topped off the night in Berkshire, MA. It looks like a little European community. I got caught up in the moment, and got dinner at an adorable restaurant, and enjoyed every second of it. We ate and laughed, and danced around to some kick-ass street performers singing Russian folk songs.

One thing that has changed a lot about Ben is his religious devotion to Judaism. It was fascinating to hear him tell of his move to Israel, being drafted, and how his faith continues to define his life, and get him through the various health and personal challenges he has faced. It was oddly inspiring. Religious faith is something I have struggled with since my divorce. When my identity changed on so many levels, the way I saw myself in every aspect shifted, and that is one adjustment I haven't quite worked through yet. I am just not there yet...but after talking this over with Ben a bit...I ran into a group of "at risk" teenage Jewish boys on a month-long road trip. They saw my license plate said California and they chatted with me and showed off their decked out vans. They were sponsored by their synagogue, they called their group Gaez Boyz (God's boys). They told me about their inspiration to pray, and living in the moment, and I wondered if I would ever get aways from the Universe's prodding at me to get my spiritualism worked out. At least God has a sense of humor about it.

After saying goodbye to Ben, I thought I would take a few days to journal on my experiences. My visit with Ben was so thought-provoking on so many levels, I wanted a few days to write about my experiences and to think about how it all ties into the bigger picture of who I am and where I am going, and you know...what it all means. I'm not sure I have that all sorted out just yet, but I am a little closer. I'm still "strange", yes...and it's OK if no one remembers my name...it didn't really pose too much of a problem with Ben.

Day 24 Visiting Matt and Kristin (your true friends are the ones who will share their bomb shelter with you)

George and I headed to Nashua, New Hampshire yesterday to visit Matt and Kristen. I am absolutely in love with their home. It is the perfect New England Victorian... enormous, cavernous, and charming. It is even renovated with modern conveniences. Ooops, there is the real estate agent in me blabbing away. OK, I do have a thing for homes...that's why I went into that occupation...but theirs really stole my heart. It even has a bomb shelter in the basement. That was a surprise they found after they bought the place. It was built during the Cuban Missile Crisis, and it's stocked with jugs of water from the early 1960s. This photo was actually taken in their bomb shelter just as I was teasing them for being the happy survivalist couple.

I knew Matt and Kristen from 1998 when I lived in Phoenix, Arizona. At the time I was living in the Paradise Lakes apartment complex with Kevin before we married. Funny, that was the apartment complex where I was living when I met George too. George was a stray that was left behind by one of the renters. This turned out to be my luck, because George adopted me and we have been a happy couple ever since.

The local bar was the Back Nine, and I used to hang out there with Kevin, or my friend Catherine, quite often. We had a little bit of a bar clique at the Back Nine, but I lost touch with everyone except for Matt and Kristen. Matt was on a four month work-visa from the UK, and joked about not wanting to return home and wanting to get "hitched". Well, a few months after, Matt met Kristen. After maintaining a two year long distance romance via letters and emails, and visits, they were married. Oh... remember letters? It is so romantic...no wonder they are such a happy couple after ten years. I think they shared milkshakes too.

I always liked Matt very much, but our friendship was always a casual one.. It is kind of amazing that we have stayed in touch for all these years. We only knew each other for a period of a few months back in 1998. Yet, after all this time...there I was... in their home, meeting their children, eating pizza, and spending the night. I was so touched by the hospitality and generosity they showed me. It is encouraging to see this kind of openness in people that are in my age group. It seems to me that a lot of people shut down to new experiences as they get older. It does take some guts to open your home to a casual friend you haven't seen in ten years. I have always been quite a bit more outgoing than most people I know, but the older I get, the wider the gap seems to get. From my point of view, shutting down to new people is one of the most common and unfortunate things that tends to happen to people with age. You can Botox, tuck and lift all you want, but I believe an open heart is the gateway to eternal youth.

Day 23 Banging up Bangor

OK, I don't know anyone here in Bangor, but what's wrong with taking a little detour just for me? I have always been so interested in this place. When I used to work for ING, I would take any free moments in my stupid cubicle searching Realtor.com for cool little towns I could escape to and Bangor was high on my list. After reading On Writing, by Stephen King, and hearing his stories about Bangor, I was intrigued. From that moment on, I knew I had to visit.

Bangor actually exceeds all of the crazy expectations I had for it. I am amazed how almost every house and business is circa 1930 or older. They don't have the one "cute" part of town with strategically placed banners and farmer's markets that everyone visits on Sundays to buy their tomatoes. No, all of Bangor is cute. Well, parts of it are pretty f'd up like everyplace else, but it all takes such a lovely photograph. The city itself is highly liberal. All politics aside, liberal cities are just a lot funner to live in. The art community is alive and thriving here. The downtown area is filled with posters about fun community events, like free movie festivals in the park, CD release parties, art festivals and auctions, and overall fun, cheap and interesting things to do. The cost of living in Bangor is very reasonable. Besides the killer winters, year-round rain and completely awful roads, this is the most appealing place I have seen in quite a long time. I want to live here. It is such a hip and interesting little place without being full of itself. Also, the local economy isn't post-apocalyptic like a lot of other places in the country at the moment.

I have been sick for the past few days and I have not been in the greatest of moods. I mentioned how annoyed I was watching all of those happy people doing happy outdoorsy things on the drive over. I was not one of the happy people, and naturally I wanted all of them to fall off their bicycles and tip their little kayaks over. I was feverish and my nose was running like a faucet and my nose was raw. I literally had to stuff tissues into my nostrils because I couldn't drive with the drama happening in my sinuses. I was a complete scary, ugly mess, and the bumpy roads just made everything worse. While I was fantasizing about shaking my fist at the happy people in my state of crazy old-man passion, George actually got car sick. Poor baby. It is the first and only time he has ever gotten car sick. I was pretty done with the whole allergy/anti-depressant commercial happening all around me too, but I didn't take it to the level George did. I told you he was a drama queen.

The people walking around downtown Bangor all looked so happy as well. The blue sky, and sunshine and adorable Norman Rockwell setting really made me think I might be in the Twilight Zone. Yesterday I heard someone say how nice it was to have the good weather...two sunny days, wow! Since we were on the second day of perfect weather, I tried to clarify...so when were the last sunny days? The woman looked at me like I was an idiot and told me the two days of sunshine were the only sunny days all year. No wonder everyone was so happy. I had some time to rest and I feel a lot better now. I am sad to be headed out of here tomorrow. I sort of want to apply for a job and stay a few months.

I had a great day today exploring Bangor on foot with my camera and visiting the museum, which is free every day in 2009. This place has so much charm and charactor, it almost isn't fair to other cities. It has a way of drawing interesting people. Most people are locals, but a fair amount found themselves here. When I asked Daphne, the woman who works at the hotel front desk, what brought her to Bangor she gave a polite answer that didn't really answer the question. With a little more prodding, she told me she and her husband wanted to move to New England and they threw darts at a map, and that brought them to Bangor.

There are a lot of interesting people here, interesting in a good way and interesting in the not-good way. To me, interesting is so much better than boring, that I will take a bit of the bad-interesting to get to the good stuff. I had a strange night at the bar the other night. I wanted to get some food to take to my room, but it was Sunday night, so everything was closed. The only place I could find that was still serving food was a bar where I had quite a lively night drinking shots with Stephen King's former "wrong crowd" friends from the early 1970s that claimed to have done various drugs with Stephen when he first got married and was student teaching. Those were pretty interesting stories, but I made sure to avoid that pub for the rest of my stay in Bangor. It didn't really help me with the whole, sensation overload thing. Oh, and the beautiful girl who was hitting on me all night at that pub didn't help with the whole mind overwhelm thing either. I was flattered, I was just too overwhelmed to comprehend the rednecks who were telling me horrifying Stephen King stories on one side of my barstool, and the beautiful girl trying to pick me up on the other side of my bar stool. Too much going on there....I was truly dumbfounded. I really felt like the Universe was playing a big trick on me.

I am off to New Hampshire to see my friend Matt, then Massachusetts to see Steve and then to New York to see another Mat, but with one "t". Then upstate New York then Connecticut. I am having serious challenges with organizing all of these people and appointments and documenting and planning where to stay, and keeping George happy and comfortable. I am always worried I am going to run out of money before I can finish. It is so hard to ask people for help with finding places to stay. For this portion of the trip, (with the exception of the one person I knew in NY who I had the awful falling out with), most of the people on the east coast are people I haven't seen in so long that it just seems weird to ask to spend the night, especially with a cat. So much worry! So much rejection! So much drama! So little stability and no predictability. It kind of got to me a few days ago, but I am rested and feeling better and ready for to dive back into my journey. My God.... I didn't know what I was in for. I knew I wouldn't know, but I didn't know it would be like this. I know this sounds a bit corny, but it really helps to see the "followers" (thank you #19, whoever became a follower today) and it helps a lot to see the comments from everyone. I really appreciate the support. It is a bit of a lonely experience, and really appreciate everyone that has reached out to me. Thank you!

Day 21 - Power to the kitties!

OK, my horrible attitude is officially over. I have them...everyone has them. I left mine back with the other soggy stuff I didn't want stinking up my car back at the campsite. Driving is such a great release. For whatever reason, movement is a very helpful thing when trying to get over stuff. Once, when I was 13 I walked from Port Washington to Queens. I was pissed. It was so anticlimactic to have to have my dad pick me up, but I felt better. He kept asking me why I was at a bowling alley in Queens...I never admitted that it took me until Queens on foot before I wasn't so mad, and I didn't have money for the train home. It was a mystery my dad took to his grave.

I drove across Maine today. Let me say, I have personally driven across the country five times in the past 13 months and I have never, ever, ever, ever seen a state with crappier roads than Maine. I even drove in Mexico a few times, and... while they had more abundant roadkill to dodge, the actual roads were better than the ones in Maine. That, and only that, is the bad thing I have to say about Maine. Besides the nauseating, wheel-misaligning roads, this place is amazing. Even George stood up to look out the window, aghast at the gleaming rivers and lakes. I have never seen George have that reaction to something beautiful. Until now, I have only seen him do that for trucks. It is actually quite cute. George, like most cats, is very interested in looking out the window, and the SUV has a lot of windows. Already, a lot of drivers have follwed too closely alongside us... pointing, and oohing ,and ahhhing at George in the window.

It isn't that big of a deal. When I was walking George on a leash in Central Park in Manhattan, everyone acted like I was Sigfreud and Roy or something. Cats are very smart and adaptable. It is quite a mistake to think they can't handle the same situations that dogs can. Cats can learn to do all the same stuff, they just have to poop in a box and have understanding owners. George likes the SUV so much, that on this camping trip... even with the doors of the SUV open for hours...he wouldn't leave the vehicle, except to chase a neighborhood cat out of our campsite perimeter. I left all the doors of the car open because the girls at the site next to me thought I was making him George stay there. My Lexus is George's small, mobile castle, and he reins. I am always very aware of the temperature, and I check on him regularly if I have to leave him. I have actually paid for a few nights in a hotel room in NJ because it was too hot to leave him in the car for my visits. If anyone is concerned... thank you for caring about animals, and George is doing fine.

I had a few open days before I will visit my three friends in New England, so I decided to drive the five hours to Bangor. I highly recommend almost any town in Maine for a vacation if you are with a new love. It is the most romantic place I can think of in the United States. I literally had to detour to the Interstate on my drive to Bangor because I just couldn't take it anymore. Seriously, when anyone is feeling a bit alone, the last thing they want to see is a bunch of happy families paddling down the the river, or a couple on bicycles pulling off to the side of the road for that perfect kiss. I was just following my GPS, I can only imagine what I would have found if I went off the beaten path. I thought the extra miles for the nondescript Interstate were well worth it. As much as I love George, and know he is smart and adaptable, I will not paddle down the river with him, or force him to kiss me on the roadside. For that, I will have to come back with someone special, who walks on two legs.

Day 20

This is a sunset picture from the Lake at my camping spot...so pretty. I am leaving tomorrow, and not sure where I am headed...but leaving tomorrow. I am having one hell of a time coordinating all of these appointments and giving an ETA and such. I have all of these floating meet-ups, and finding places to stay with a cat is really challenging. I was so discouraged today, it was pretty bad. I thought about not leaving the woods and being a peaceful version of the unibomber....the unihermit perhaps? Anyway, I am at that point of doing this where I am wondering why I am doing this. The optimism I had at the beginning has officially worn off, and I think I need some nice reunions to get over my funk.

Things are actually not that easy, and maybe I should give myself a break. I set a tent up by myself for the first time, and just as I was patting myself on the back about that, it rained three inches and all of my stuff got drenched. George is really not happy with the whole outdoors thing and he hasn't been eating much, and I haven't had quite the support I thought I would have from people I think of as family, and I haven't been eating much myself. I want to be honest...kinda thought about throwing in the towel on this project today. I won't just yet. It is hard to be public with this, but I can't find Pollyanna anywhere, so it's just me.

Days 17 and 18 and 19 - Rita Rocks My World

Wow! This is the 19th day of my trip. It is fun. It is horrible. It is wonderful. I am reflecting on everything now in my tent while it is raining outside. I feel like a kid that is in time out. It is probably good to have this time to think without feeling the pressure to run out and do stuff.

My electric lantern ran out of batteries last night and I am only able to touch type. Ha! That sounds really pathetic, but little do you know I am just bragging about my snazzy touch typing skills. I am so glad that I took some time to regroup and to get away from all the drama. I had a hard time deciding how much detail to go into with my horrible ordeal in New York with my old friend of 19 years. I try so hard to do the right thing, but oh how I love to tell a story; and oh,what an exciting,, juicy, and outrageous story it is.

Seriously, I have been fairly devestated since this happened. After all the friends I lost in my divorce, I do not take well to losing more staple friends. I wanted to recompose before I went out to meet the world again. So many challenges have come up so early in my trip and it has been pretty disheartening. I am not on a schtick, or pushing an angle...I actually want to make stronger connections with the people in my life, and it felt like I was running in the opposite direction to have the dramatic falling out that I had with an old friend right from the outset. I don't want to dwell, but I do want to be honest. I didn't plan to camp in New Hampshire for four nights, but alone time was just what I needed to recharge.

When I fled the scene of the drama, I left my phone, my best pair of jeans, and a bunch of other stuff I could really use right now. This camping trip was the best idea I've had in a while, and I am feeling a lot better. It is hard to know how forthcoming I should be in these blogs. Balancing the privacy of people I meet up with, and keeping negativity to a minimum is a tough call. It is interesting, I am about to be in my third week of traveling, and I am starting to feel so marginal. I know I have good reasons for all of this stuff, but not having an address and a phone at the moment, or a set time frame to complete this project does not bode well with mainstream society. I am finding myself making stuff up to give socially acceptable answers....no job? no home? are you crazy? Yes, yes, and no.

So, I won't blog without a filter on my friends, but I am going to blog the heck out of the fun group of senior ladies that is in the site next to mine. They don't even have email addresses and we definetely have no common friends, so no ethical dilemma there. They are a riot. I hung out with Rita last night. She is the funnest and most interesting of the crowd. Sadly, her friends seem to not take her that seriously because she is the oldest of the bunch. She is 89, but lies about her age...she says she is 84...who am I to argue with her? She gabbed for quite a while about the break up with her boyfriend of five years, and her philosophies on men and dating. Those types of observations are so different, depending on the generation that is observing. I believe in evolution! Men are improving.

Rita met all the other ladies on the camping trip in a single's group...now they are all married and, according to Rita, dull. I don't know them very well, but based on what I've seen... I see her point. It's funny, whenever I am alone with any of them, they talk crap about their friends to me. If I were to comment, I would have to say that the others just don't shine nearly as brightly as Rita. I think it runs in the family. Her sister is 96, and "dances for exercise". She danced with Arthur Murray! At this very moment Rita's sister is on a dancing cruise ship. I am so square I didn't even know such things existed. Hmmm, I am going to hang with the ya ya's for a bit. That term never really did much for me..it kinda annoyed me, in fact...but last night when I was hangin' with the girls they mentioned ya ya is Greek for "grandma". I never knew....

I still will never watch the Ya Ya Sisterhood unless someone plays it while I am in a nursing home and I am too weak to move my wheelchair out of the room. Ya Ya!! Here I come, Rita!

Day 16 - Meeting Keith Ferrazzi - (Author of Who's got your back and Never Eat Alone)

For the most part, it is pretty unusual for me to be intimidated. There are a few notable exceptions when I am so star-struck that I act like a fourteen year old with a speech impediment. I am so glad I had the opportunity to meet with Keith Ferrazzi, but I am so impressed by him that I would probably have to meet with him four or five times for my brain to be included in our discussions. I have been a fan of Keith Ferrazzi for years. He wrote the single greatest book on networking, Never Eat Alone. It is pure genius. When I was a real estate agent in San Diego, it changed my entire outlook on how to build relationships. His books make the world a lot smaller and friendlier. It was the first and only book on networking that I have come across to incorporate integrity, respect and sincerity into building professional relationships.

I didn't plan to become a real estate agent; I definitely fell into it. I found it hard, at first, to join the business world. I was always in more academic and creative settings in my prior life experiences. Quite honestly, I thought the business world was filled with a bunch of greasy- handed phonies, and success in the business world would mean you had to promise to be a big jerk for the rest of your career. Well, there are those types, but Never Eat Alone drives home the point that the truly successful approach networking from a genuine and selfless place. This was finally something I could wrap myself around, and I started to have a lot more fun and success when I applied the principles outlined in his book. I have recommended Never Eat Alone so many times that I can almost hear the eye rolling when I am on the phone with my friends and colleagues, urging them to read it for the 40th time. This book is for everyone. I learned so much about how the world works, and how building a strong network is about living a rewarding life, not just for selling more widgets.

When I was driving from Atlanta to New York, I had the opportunity to listen to Keith's new book Who's Got Your Back. I gave up my career in real estate entirely, and I am now living the most bohemian existence that I have ever attempted to live, and I thought On the Road or almost anything else would be more in line with where I am right now. Old habits die hard. I was too curious not to see what Keith was up to with his new book. So, I listened to the book on CD version, and I was absolutely floored to see how in sync this book is with what I am doing. Try as you might to mix things up, life is a linear journey and unless you are seven years old or crazy, it is foolishness to say your past didn't lead you to exactly to where you are now, no matter how much you try to change course.


To my surprise, Who's Got Your Back addressed a lot of the same things I want to address in my journey. It brought so much more meaning and continuity to what I was about to take on. I couldn't help but see Who's Got Your Back as confirmation that I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing at exactly the right time. From my perspective, this book is about bringing your most authentic self to the table before you go on a networking binge. Keith talks about the power of embracing a few key people in your life that "got your back", people who will tell you the truth, good or bad, because they are committed to your happiness, growth and success. I have never read a business book that so aptly merged personal growth with professional development. It really takes an author willing to be vulnerable to advocate the importance of vulnerability and honesty within your inner circle of support. I had to question in my own life who, if anyone, "has my back". It is so important to have people who are trustworthy and committed to not letting you fail and will tell you what you need to hear even if it is uncomfortable.



It was so interesting to hear so many of the same ideas that inspired my own journey in Keith Ferrazzi's talk... "families and communities have disintegrated". I agree, while communities and face to face contact are dropping, our "friends" lists are growing exponentially and alienation is growing. I am trying to bring community back to my life and the lives of other people I know in a small way by bringing a face to face contact within my community of friends, and by taking the time to actually meet up with my virtual friends in person. I am so encouraged by the reconnections people have made by reading my blog, and reaching out to people I have met on my journey. My goal is to bring a higher level of authenticity to my relationships, and to help people connect with each other. Of course, bridging the gap between virtual relationships and face to face relationships is a big goal that will obviously take more than a road trip and a blog to accomplish, but if it gets people thinking, then I would be so happy to know I made a difference.

Keith Ferrazzi's message of generosity was extended to me, and the GreenLight Community, by a hosted networking event with local Bostonians who attended the talk. I strongly encourage any person who wants to grow in the spirit of embracing like-minded individuals to join Keith Ferrazzi's Greenlight Network. Check it out on www.ferrazzigreenlight.com. (The only requirement to join is that you are committed to the success of the other members.) After the Greenlight event, I was truly honored to be invited to join the dessert portion of one of Keith Ferrazzi's famed dinner parties. It was a night I won't forget.

Quite honestly, after my ordeal in New York, I wasn't feeling highly social. The road trip was getting to me, and I didn't look or feel my best when I noticed the book tour event and made the decision to go. It was the hottest day in New York so far this year. I felt slightly hobo-ish living so much out of my car, and I didn't have the proper business attire, all perfect excuses to avoid the event. That said, I drove five hours to Boston and had one of my best experiences in years because I reached out to my network. After all, that's what my journey is all about. Reaching out isn't always easy, but it is worth it.

Day 15 - A walk in the park

Sunday was so peaceful, at least from my perspective. I spent the day with my BFF (or at least for a grade or two back in the day) and her husband and kids. I don't think it was quite as relaxing for my friends. For parents that don't have a perpetual nanny and a bottle of Valium, I think relaxing days with a toddler in the terrible two's, three's and fours is more of a concept than a reality. I absolutely love children, and I spend lots of time with my friends that have them, but at some point, all of my friends confess that they wonder if they can pull it off, and they all think they are the only ones who worry about losing their patience. So, for everyone out there, yes...you are just like every other parent. Outside of Stepford, it is perfectly normal to not feel a glowing love and adoration for your child when they are throwing a temper tantrum or trying to test boundaries by horrifying you in some way or other. It surprises me that more parents don't talk to each other about that. I am glad I don't have the pressure to be a 24/7 smiling parent on my shoulders. Hang in there, guys and if you ever want to vent or complain...shoot me an email. I don't have kids, but I think I get it.

It is so interesting to see my childhood friend as a parent. We were complete sci-fi geeks before we knew what that meant. She idolized Spock and his emotional discipline, and I idolized Mya from Space 1999 because she was glimmery and gorgeous. I also idolized Mr. Roarke from Fantasy Island. Even though I knew that show was pretend, I still hoped it was based on a true story and I might get a job there someday. I am still holding out for that job, actually. If anyone has any leads, please send them my way juliaorpheus@yahoo.com.

Day 14 - remembering good people and good puppies

I finally came out of the hole that I crawled into to get away from human-kind for a few days. It is so ironic to be on a trip designed to open myself up to people and to want nothing more than to never see another person again. There is a big button that gets pushed when you realize that someone closest to you (be it a friend, family member, spouse) doesn't necessary want what is best for you. This is a fairly common thing, and I believe it is why so many relationships do not stand the test of time. When growth is part of the equation for one or both of the people in the relationship, it takes some role adjusting and ego overlooking for the relationship to survive. Sadly, as much as some people love us, they don't think they will have enough to offer if we grow and our needs change.

It is tough, a parent's job is ultimately to make the child strong enough to not be dependent on the parent, a teacher's job is to pave the way for intellectual autonomy in the student. Apart from the functional roles of parenting and teaching, there is a relationship that can be enhanced by the growth of the child or student. Still, there are far too many sabotaging parents, and ego-focused teachers who worry that they will become obsolete if their counterpart grows. On that note, there are far too many spouses who are less than joyful when their partner gets a career accolade, and there are far too many friends who are less than happy to watch their friends overcome obstacles. There are so many bad movies about this subject, and yes, it is cliche, but it still hurts a lot to realize that someone you love wants to keep you in your "place", or keep you down. Yeah, yeah, yeah, fear of abandonment, whatever...there is no excuse for it. Growth can be lonely at times.

Well...off of my soap box for me. Time to move on to happier subjects. I had a great time hanging out with Debbie a few days ago. I met Debbie in High School, she was a friend of our mutual friend, Mary, more than she was my friend, but I always liked Debbie. Her big, warm eyes and friendly smile were always so welcoming. It is funny, but among the normal kids, I don't remember many people smiling in High School. Then again, I hung out with the artsy crowd...unless you were making an ironic joke, smiling was largely social suicide in my circles. That's probably why I didn't hang out with Debbie much in High School...I was way too serious.

I was so happy to see Debbie still had that brightness to her. Debbie always stood out to me because she was clearly a nice person, and I was glad to see that she still was. It is funny, she is always someone I wanted to hang out with in High School and never did...and here I was, twenty years later, hanging out with her in her home for about five hours. We were having a great time talking about everything from hilarious bad dates back in the day, to the challenges we are dealing with in our lives right now. Debbie has a refreshing and uncommon ability to instill a feeling of trust, respect and acceptance, and it made my guard go down in record time. She was a teacher for a while, but is looking to do something else after her own kids get a little older and she returns to work or school. All I know is she is uniquely qualified to do something completely amazing. I can't wait to see where she goes.

It was great timing for me to meet with Debbie on Thursday, because Thursday night was quite a challenge. The upside to being so sensitive about friendships going south is that I am also very sensitive and upwardly inspired by friendship and kindness that comes unexpectedly. Thanks Debbie....xoxo By the way, if anyone in the New York area wants an adorable puppy...Deb's dog just had an unplanned litter and these pups are 100% irresistablely cute...post a comment, or send me an email if you want more information.

Day 13 The Roller Coaster Ride

I am having a very difficult time with this part of the blogging experience. I am committed to being truthful, but I am more committed to respecting the privacy and dignity of the people I mention in my blog. So...that leaves me with the dilemma...what do I say when I have a truly awful experience with someone? Most of the people I have reunited with have been pleasant surprises, but it would be naive to think that all of my experiences would be good ones. I had a bad experience a few nights ago. In fact, I had a really, really bad experience a few nights ago. My reunion with a friend that I have had for a few decades turned to complete disaster. This is a friend that I have been in touch with by phone and visits every few years, but we haven't actually lived in the same city since I moved out of New York about fifteen years ago. I was ready for a terrible encounter with meeting up with a virtual stranger from facebook or MySpace, but I wasn't ready for this. It would be tacky and wrong to go into detail, so I won't. All I will say is that some relationships stay together only because they are far enough apart in geography to allow their differences to let it go on beyond its natural life.

After this incident I needed some time to decompress, and I didn't know how to blog about it. It would be fake to leave it out altogether. After all, this falling out left me and my cat without a place to stay in the middle of the night in NYC. In the chaos, I lost my phone and George's litterbox. That was particularly problematic because I was too tired to drive and we had to sleep in the car. I woke up a few hours later to a stench and a $70 parking ticket. Life is kind of hard sometimes.

I have been told pretty regularly that I should be more selective with people. I will be the first to admit...there is a certain un-cool lame straightforwardness to this entire endeavor. The definition of cool is not trying too hard. You know, cool is when you just don't have enough time or interest for all of the people that are vying for your attention. Cool people have the whole supply and demand thing working so people basically have to audition to get into their life. Cool people sit back and let people come to them, and complain about what a nuisance it is to have to turn down so many social invitations. The problem is never the time. The problem is always that the other person isn't cool enough. You would never hear this person say "Yeah, I keep telling Sting to stop calling me to go out to the movies, but he just doesn't get it. I don't want to be rude. I just don't have the time. I have a family. I have a career, and I have enough friends. Get a life, Sting...for God's sake".

So, queen of uncool that I am, I am taking all of my time and money to meet up personally with anyone who friended me on MySpace or Facebook. It is so unselective and filterless, that I can only imagine what my cool friends think. Oh, the anxiety I would have if I cared. It is a good thing I am so naturally cool that I can get away with the crap I do. ;-)

Day 10, Meeting Marianna and Sam

After driving around in circles, missing my exit twice, driving past the apartment building and doubling back through the Bowery and the East Village I arrived at Marianna's door 45 minutes late. Things like that just seem to happen too often when I don't drink my Starbucks in the morning.

Marianna is a friend from elementary school. She moved from Russia when I was in 5th grade, and being from such an interesting exotic place, I was immediately intrigued and determined to be her friend. I have so many vivid memories of Marianna and her family. There are some friends that I can remember a lot more clearly than others. Even after 24 years, I remember our trips to the beach, the sleepovers, the talks about first crushes. It was quite amazing to see her after all this time. In 7th grade her family moved to Manhattan, and soon after she had a pool party in her building. The building looked familiar, it is actually right next to the place she lived in 24 years ago. As kids, we used to play memory every morning before we walked to school. Marianna completely whooped my butt at the memory game back then, but yesterday, I seemed to remember quite a bit more about our past together than she did. The tempation was there, but I did not talk about all those games of memory that I errrr, won.

Her mom heard I was coming for lunch and stopped by for a visit. She was just as warm and gregarious as I remembered. Marianna and I ate a delicious lunch with her mom and daughter, and I had a hard time not staring out the window at the panaramic views of the entire Manhattan skyline. Marianna has such an interesting perspective, and we had such a good talk about my writing project and the observations I have about my project so far. She is still curious and brilliant. I am definetely going to bounce ideas off of her in the future.

After that, I met my High School friend Sam at the Hungarian Pastry Shop in Harlem. I love all of the bakeries and pastry shops in New York, but I don't think I would be able to stay away from them if I lived here, and the love-hate relationship would ensue after I gained a hundred pounds or so. Yes, I am glad I don't have to worry about such things.

Sam looked a lot different. He was a few years younger than me in High School. I remember him as a really, really, young kid. Sam told me he remembered seeing me and my friend Mary at a party in High School and thinking we were exotic, sophisticated "older" girls. It is funny how a few years back then seems like a few decades. I remember Sam as one of the kindest, smartest, and down to Earth kids I knew. He now teaches physics at a NYC High School, so clearly I was spot on about the whole smart thing, and as far as I could tell, he was and is still incredibly kind.

We had a mutual friend, Edus, that passed away last year. I lost touch with this friend quite a while ago. It was good to talk about some of the memories we had about him, although Sam was much closer to Edus and remained friends with him until he passed away. It was touching to see how much Sam cared for Edus, and I have no doubt they were both very blessed to have shared such a close friendship all of those years. I think anyone that Sam calls a friend is quite lucky, in fact.

Back in High School, Sam gave me a book, Sonnets to Orpheus. I still have it. ( I appreciate the idea of the sonnets quite a bit more than the actual sonnets, though.) Sam and I were in the same crowd of kids in High School, but we didn't spend a lot of one on one time together back then. It was interesting to sit with him now and chat for two hours. It was actually a bit awkward for the first ten minutes or so, but we had no trouble at all once we got past that. There are a lot of people that haven't responded to my request to get together, and I suspect for many of them it is the fear of that initial awkwardness that kept them from wanting to get together. I am glad Sam didn't let it stop him. We had a wonderful time.

Day 9, George loves drama a little too much

There is nothing more absurd than getting into travel drama with your travel partner when you are traveling alone with your cat. I have gotten into normal squabbles when traveling with friends and family. It is hard to spend day in and day out, constantly on the move, with the same people. That is why reality TV is so popular; all of the entertainment value is in waiting for the cast to crack and turn on each other. Well, George and I had our day yesterday.

After spending three nights at Krista's apartment, and being fawned over by two insatiable cat lovers, George thought he had it pretty cush. Krista fed him nothing but Albicore Tuna and Mackerel fish. She was determined to spoil George in any way possible, to the point of leaving the air conditioning on all day because Krista thought George looked really cute snuggled up in a ball next to the AC unit. For a few days, it was kitty decadence through and through, but when the party ended, George thought I was the most unfair person on the planet when I put him back into his carrier and into the car again. The complaining and angry pacing in the car went on and on. George wasn't scared, he was just extremely miffed that I scooped him out of paradise and into the car. The potholes and stop and go NYC traffic only made George more aghast.

After getting out of the city, I stopped at a strip mall and let George get out to stretch his paws. Under normal circumstances, this would not be a problem; he is a people pleaser, and usually comes running when I call his name - not yesterday. This time, George stepped out of the car, turned around to give me the stink eye and ran to the guy a few spaces over that was working on his car. I don't think this guy liked cats much... but George, thinking he is irresistable, ran up to him, meowed, and jumped right into his car. I think George was trying to replace me. He obviously wasn't afraid of traveling in cars, he just wanted to show me that he could do better! After apologizing to the nice gentleman and prying George out of his car, I checked into the motel and gave George some "me" time. You really don't know anyone, not even your cat, until you travel with them.

Day 8, embracing my inner freak

Yesterday was quite amazing. I took the B train to the D train and after about an hour and a half on the subway I got off at the last stop, Coney Island, to meet Tim and Stephanie. It is funny how foreign and intimidating riding the subway felt after driving my car everywhere in California, Phoenix, and Atlanta for the past decade and a half. I used to ride the subway so often, but after so many years away from it, the old stereo-types of some crazy person with guns, and crack pipes, and nothin' to lose came back to my mind...there was a day when the subway was scary, but that day has long past. Now I would guess the median income for a subway commuter would be about $55,000 or more. It is like being on the monorail at Disneyland these days. Yesterday, for me, it was the monorail to Coney Island.

Tim and Stephanie were incredibly in the know about Coney Island subculture. I had no idea that there was an amusement park that embraced freak culture so openly in this country. It was beautifully ironic and ugly, and bizarre, and brilliant. “Shoot the Freak” was fun to watch. They dressed a guy up like a space mutant and he ran around a vacant lot moaning while paying customers got to shoot paint balls at him. Fun as that was, the highlight for me was the actual Freak Show, or Sideshow. I not only got to view glamorous cabaret girls swallowing 14 inch swords with minimal spittle falling on the stage, but I saw a man with Lobster Claw Syndrome jump up and down on shattered glass. His trick was pretty cool, but I just couldn't get past the congenitally clawed hands and feet. He was from Texas...he didn't talk much, except to say that. I liked the MC who drilled a nail into his own nose and juggled machetes (that is way more than I ever would expect from an MC), and the contortionist/fire-breathing beauty queen was quite impressive too. Still, amidst all of this raw talent, I was most impressed with the people who had actual disabilities. They could have let their disabilities ruin their lives, but instead, they joined the Freak Show and embraced their uniqueness. God love this country! By the way, if anyone wants to learn any of the above-mentioned tricks they have a freak school above the theater... Follow your dream!

It was so cool to see Tim again after 20 years. I am so happy to see that he married an amazing woman, Stephanie, that I instantly liked. They have been together for 17 years. It is strangely reassuring to know that someone that was important to you a long time ago settled down with someone that was good for them. Stephanie has a lot of qualities that I would like to see more of in people..she is genuine, down to earth, caring, and smart as a whip. I don't think she can swallow swords, but it wouldn't surprise me if she was too modest to bring it up...she's like that.

Tim was the first “boyfriend” that I had, and the only person I officially dated before I met my ex-husband, Kevin. When I was a senior in High School, I snuck into a club “Malibu” on Long Island when I was 17, and Tim's vampire/goth thing won me over instantly. Tim didn't have cash for a tuxedo when I invited him to my prom, so he improvised and took me to my prom in a Count Dracula costume, and I went a little heavier on the vampire make-up that night. Good times! I moved to San Diego shortly after, but that was a great memory take with me as I left New York.

This is so strange to consider, but I met Tim, dated Tim, and lost touch with Tim all in the span of a year and a half. I thought I would never be in touch with him again, and after about 20 years pass, I am able to pick up almost seamlessly, and go to a freak show with him and his cool wife of 17 years. You never know what lies ahead. I never would have predicted yesterday, but I like it... a lot.

Day 7

It was great to wake up and not panic over moving my car, or moving out of another hotel room, or losing my car keys and having AAA come bail me out. Yesterday was a fun, normal day. I miss New York a lot. It is expensive as all hell, but funner than anyplace I have ever lived. There is a complete lack of complacency. People are here because they choose to be here and are willing to put up with an enormous amount of crap to stay here., Nobody ends up in Manhattan because it is convenient. Besides the subway system and gourmet delis on every corner, it is decidedly inconvenient. People are here, usually, because they are living out their dreams be it education, career, whatever...there is so much excellence and talent on this one tiny little island...it is oddly inspiring. I don't want to go.

I saw Sarah Gruber yesterday. She is a friend I haven't seen in about 20 years. We reconnected on Facebook about six months ago. She had the flu, but she dragged herself out to get brunch with Krista and me. That is so sweet! I first met Sarah on a bus coming back from the mall in the mid 80s in Long Island...she was outgoing and vivacious, and contagiously enthusiastic about life, even then. I don't normally remember every random person I meet on the bus, and since she was a few years younger than me we didn't really run into each other for a few years after that chance encounter, but Sarah isn't the kind of person you forget, not then or now.

Krista, Sarah and I chatted over an amazing brunch at Jack's, for a dog themed restaurant, the food was pretty good. We had a great round of catching up, hilarious gossip about Alec Baldwin, and memories of our common friends. It is interesting the way everyone is linked together in some way. Sarah mentioned an old friend she lost touch with, let me call the common friend “Cindy”. Cindy was a drama queen purist to the core. Amid all of her insane outbursts, the most striking memory I have of this common friend is that she tried to seduce my ex-boyfriend at a pool party she threw in her parents Sand Point mansion. The funny thing is I am on a subway going to Coney Island to meet this exboyfriend from 21 years ago, and his wife, Stephanie.
Tim found me on Facebook about three months ago, and we lost touch with each other about 18 years before. It is incredibly surreal to spend a week of my life where the primary people I am socializing with are people I have not seen for about 20 years. For whatever reason, they are all reentering my life, and I can't help but think it isn't an accident. Yes, all of these reconnections could be arbitrary and random, but I just don't think so. For all of the people I have met throughout my life, I believe a lot can be learned by looking a little deeper into the old friends that come back. I have about 250 friends on Facebook, but for the thousands of people I have met throughout my life, 250 is a pretty small number. Within that number, I am finding a lot of people do not want to meet up in person, so...that makes reconnecting with the remaining few a lot more meaningful to me...even if I don't get the exact meaning of it all quite yet. I am sure the revelations will hit me eventually. In the meantime, I am having quite a blast.

Day 6

Yesterday could have started a little better...I lost my car key and had to have AAA come out to break into my car so I could get my spare. It is a lot easier to break into my SUV than I ever would have imagined.

I met up with my High School friend Lesley at her tattoo studio. I was worried that Lesley may have turned into a boring person, or a burned out "I remember the good old days" drag. That was misplaced worry for sure. Lesley is still so real and outgoing and so unapologetically authentic. It is hard to find people that don't try to fit into a mold, and when you do, they are often attention seeking jackasses. It takes a very special person to get the balance right. Lesley is very special. We were able to pick right up where we left off 18 years ago. We were such close friends in High School...I forgot how much I missed her until I saw her again. For years, we had planned on buying an old mini-school bus and doing a giant road trip after High School. It didn't work out, but I am glad that it is a road trip brought us back together again.

That was the first time I had been in my old neighborhood in Greenwich Village since the mid 90s. I couldn't look when I drove past my old apartment building. I was flooded with memories of being broke as hell my senior year of NYU. My ex-husband and I were living in a Soho studio that we subletted from an elderly couple, the Greblers. It was the recession. We were broke. I lived off a diet of beer and falafel sandwiches for an entire year or more. I think 90% of the gross national falafel product is sold within a two block radius of our old apartment building on Prince Street. I felt like I was 21 again being back in that neighborhood. It's funny the way people and places can trigger memories so vivid, it's almost like being in another point in time. I am so much more free and happy now than I ever was back then. Thank God for maturity, and perspective, and not giving a crap. You're never really free if you see yourself as “on your way” to success or happiness via some special life recipe. I could never enjoy the moment back then. I am enjoying almost all of my moments these days..even the bad ones. Freedom rocks.

Day 5, Peace in Parsippany

I am learning a lot about the politics of getting together with people. I am a bit naive, I guess. Already, I have stepped on some friend's toes by contacting other friends about meeting up. I inadvertently ruffled feathers of some friends because I contacted other friends without contacting them first. There are odd gate keeping systems that dictate that a Facebook friendship is fine, but the moment you schedule a real face-to-face meeting there is a protocol and a flow chart of sorts to follow before contacting certain others directly. I always thought I was socially aware and sensitive, but I didn't know what I didn't know, and I still don't know the stuff I don't know that will bite me later. It is ironic that my well intentioned efforts to bridge the gap between virtual friendships and real relationships is causing rifts with my already established friendships.

This is all so exhausting, no wonder I needed to sleep for 50 hours to recuperate. I drove about 45 minutes outside of Manhattan to Parsippany, New Jersey to recooperate. I love the Red Roof Inn. There is no better recovery motel for a person or a pet. I didn't know it was possible to sleep for two and a half days straight. I also never knew it was possible to as exhausted as I was when I checked in. Seriously, I just woke up to get some donuts and went back to sleep.

I am starting to feel really overwhelmed by my project. Finding the confidence to barge into people's lives is a lot easier when you are well rested and not feeling like a hobo. I forgot how intense New York is. It is a great place if you are rich and/or in love...but it can be pretty brutal if you are scraping by and you don't have anyone to hold your hand or to lean into when bad weather or terrorist threats hit. When Krista and I were enjoying cocktails and a view, the view got a lot less serene when 50 or so police cars surrounded Central Park and the perimiter of the mall. It spoiled the mood a bit, at least for me. Terrorist threats are so commonplace in Manhattan that such things have lost their impact for locals. Unless stuff is blowing up, New Yorkers have too much to do to stop and worry about a dumb bomb threat. I felt like quite the bumkin for being concerned. Oh, culture shock.

I think I would be a lot smarter if I moved back to New York. There is something about non-stop stimulation and the constant need to be alert and to think on your feet that keeps you in the present and fully aware. From the moment I drove through the Lincoln Tunnel, I had to contend with the narrow, pot holey roads, and emergency vehicles shreaking and squeezing by my car on shoulderless roads, the tolls, the bridges, the crappy driving, jumping onto a new highway every five minutes...all in the span of 20 miles. Before I got into New York I was worrying, however, that was impossible to keep up with all of this stuff vying for my attention. Yes, it was stressful, but it was oddly refreshing to live in the present. You can't be more in “the power of now” than when you are about to get hit by a fire truck.

I am glad I grew up with this intensity and I am glad I left... surviving my broke college days in New York gave me a survival skill set and savvy that I has served me well..but damn, I am glad I left. I think it would be difficult to live in NYC for long without getting jaded, and if I were jaded then I couldn't walk around with my heart on my sleeve, and a project like this would never appeal to me, and then what on Earth would I be doing?