When everything stays open...

So much happens here all the time. I realized the other day that when nothing closes, it sometimes feels like nothing stops. I guess that's one thing about smaller towns -- you can expect everyone will rest after 9pm. Not here. Nope. It's not a bad thing either. But it can be tiring at times.

So much happens here and most of the time I don't know when things happened or in what order. Days and months sort of run together here with no definite beginning or end, and it doesn't seem to matter. It's a blur of drinks and sunglasses, coats, heels, and events and lounges and dives and diners and bands and grungy things on the sidewalk and what not. It really is exactly like Sex and The City. Except I try to have a few more values and morals than that. And I don't take nearly as many cabs as they do. But really, the atmosphere is pretty close.

Last night I went to an event that was a party at a club for a magazine's hottest bachelor issue. There was a handful of male models walking around -- good times. I had another in-person coaching session. I recently randomly got to see Moby spinning at a club, went out for Halloween as a sheriff, went to a snowboarding club meeting, started taking a salsa class that is a bit above my level, played soccer and started running at the gym. I never ran before because I'm not that good at it and feel like i don't know what to do with my arms. But soccer has helped and I've discovered I can actually run two miles without it being that big of a deal! Normally a half mile has me dead. So this is the first time since I was 12 that I could run a mile. We'll see how long that lasts...But it has been nice to notice that no one at the gym seems to care that I run like a dinosaur. They are way too immersed in their ipod playlists. So that's good.

I had a few jerk guys say mean things about Life Coaching at that event last night, but they asked for cards anyway. Interesting how they tear the profession apart, laugh at the butterfly on the card, yet take the card with them. One guy even asked if my coaching could help cure him of his obsession with Asian hookers. Another guy started laughing and said "no offense..." and then I forget the second part of what he said, but I'm sure it was offensive.

It hurt my feelings a lot less than it did a year ago when I heard things like that. I know why I'm doing this. I like to help people and I'm good at it. I know I've already helped to spur some big things into action for people, and helped people discover some really important things that will not only improve their own fulfillment and happiness, but the people in their lives. And I know there are a lot of very empty people here in NYC that don't want to be.

I've faced a lot of resistance so far. In coaching school I remember my lowest point was when an older somewhat bitter woman told me that she thought I was too young to be a Life Coach and that I should only coach clients who were children or in high school at the oldest. Her older friend agreed. Strange, since the coaching process assumes the coach knows nothing about the client and their business (unlike a consultant). Anyway, I remember crying in my car and wondering if should go back to having a "regular" job where no one would attack my career choice on a daily basis. But somehow, I didn't. I've now had clients of all ages. Some 7 or 8 years older, some even 30, 40 years older. I never should have believed that bitter woman, as she was wrong.

Still, I've had a whole lot of people laugh in my face, or look at me strangely, or offer me "viable alternatives" to choosing this as a career.

I've had probably close to 100 people so far ask me questions about coaching when they really weren't interested in hearing the answer (because they'd already decided it was "out there" and useless and just wanted me to confirm that for them). I got tired of defending it. The people who want me to "sell it" don't need coaching in the first place. And the people who really do want coaching certainly don't need me to sell it to them.

I tell people that the coaching helps get what you want faster -- and that is true -- but the most important part for me, is having them realize what they really want in the first place. What they want from a gut level, foundation, soul sort of place -- what they are meant to do in life. When you connect with that, everything else just makes sense and becomes enjoyable. But people here have a hard enough time with the image of a butterfly on a business card, so I don't mention the second part as much. Maybe someday I will have the guts to.

It's very hard sometimes to do something for a career that most people haven't heard of, or instantly feel completely comfortable attacking -- people here seem to really enjoy attacking Life Coaching as if it is some sort of sport. But in the end, I guess that is why I'm here and doing this. Usually the people that attack it most are the ones most afraid of it, and most unhappy. I remember one guy at a bar slammed his beer on the bar and walked away after I told him what I did. He was of course asking all the usual question, so for an example, I asked him what he really wanted out of his life. He said to make money and die. I asked if that would make him happy. He said he didn't care if he was happy and all that mattered was making more money than his friends. That's when he slammed down the beer and stormed off. Sometimes it'd be nice to just say I was a lawyer.

And the leaves are falling...one year later

This is the first time I've experienced fall. I was almost afraid of all of the leaves pelting me from the trees in Central Park. My bag was covered in them. It made me laugh and seemed kinda silly. It made me wonder "why now?" Why do the leaves fall now and not yesterday? But I guess life has its own time line.

Are seasons capitalized? I always forget. I know in Spanish seasons are capitalized however they are NOT in English. But that doesn't help me. I've always struggled to keep the seasons in the correct order because in AZ it is extremely hot, very hot, slightly cool (called winter, but it was sort of clear it wasn't a "real" winter like the rest of the country had). So it was summer, monsoons or sweater and light jacket weather. Done. I remember getting a Spanish placement test question wrong in college because I couldn't list the seasons in the correct order...but I did know the words for them! Used to anyway. Now it's a bit fuzzy...

I think I will remember the seasons now. My 1 year NYC anniversary is coming up! I forget the exact date, but it was close to November 1st when I moved here. It was right after Halloween.

I got here right after the majority of the leaves had already fallen and it was winter and cold. So this is the first time I've watched them fall.

The weather has been really gray and it looks strange to me. With summer being so bright I completely forgot that other seasons existed. It was such a long time ago when I arrived here in the winter. One one hand it has completely flown by and it's hard for me to even tell people I've been here a year when I feel so new still. On the other hand, I feel like I've lived here for a good 6 or 7 years -- maybe it's just a tiring place?

Well, enough about leaves. I've been enjoying soccer still. I do have an enormous knee-cap sized bruise on my right leg though (knocked down again...it had been a good month or two since I fell that hard. I rolled out of it OK, but still hit the ground pretty hard).

It is multicolored in an autumn sort of way...some blue, green, red, purplish colors in there. The thing about bruises is, they don't leave a scar, so I really don't care. But I must say, I am pretty much covered in scars now after a few months of soccer, which is unfortunate. But I guess that's life.

Maybe I should stop doing sports with such a high risk of injury. sigh. But now I want to get into snowboarding again. Maybe I should just focus on salsa more, as the most that happens there is a broken toe nail and that is really not as bad as it sounds -- it does grow back!

Interestingly, whenever a guy I was dating has stepped on my toe while salsa dancing, the relationship quickly fell apart. That's happened to me with three different guys. I think it's an indication of being out of synch. Or maybe I read way too much into everything.

I get to go to a big magazine party tomorrow and so that should be fun! Should be lots of cute guys there I hear. And I have more coaching clients now, so between that and the marketing of that, it's taking up just about all of my time. I sorta can't wait until I one day have a stronger foundation built with the coaching, so I could chill or take a vacation or something. I haven't taken a vacation in I'm not sure how long. I visited AZ once this year and that was it. Would be nice to see some jungles or deserts or oceans or something.

I never really wanted to travel before. Not sure why now. I'm torn between wanting to travel full time a la "The 4-Hour Work Week," or wanting to save up and buy a big place with huge cabinets -- strange, when a year ago I despised cabinets and any sort of containers with labels.

I guess you never know what you'll end up wanting. So you have to keep asking yourself, just in case it changes and you forgot to notice.

Halloween

It's getting cold here in NY. I broke out a jacket last night. Leaves are falling -- I was shocked to realize they are actually orange! Bright orange. I somehow thought that was some sort of stereotype. It seems very Halloween-ish, the way it matches pumpkins and all.

I'm convinced that the same company that sells stripper apparel also stocks Halloween stores. Why? I guess they figured that plastic shoes can be sold as "fun Halloween footwear" also? I don't quite get it. Guys have it easy. Scary or funny. Girls have an identity crisis in October -- which Halloween character am I?? Am I a Mary Jane shoe? or a pump? Stiletto? Platform boot? Clear platform stiletto boot? And so on...and that's just footwear.

The sales guy was leading me around the store showing me bumble bee costumes in various amounts of "sexiness" as he called it, with an expression that we both knew meant "slutty." A girl overheard our conversation and jumped in with "Yes, every costume here is too 'sexy' or 'slutty' really! Why is that? Why must Halloween be so like porn?"

So there is the fairly normal mini skirt tube top bee -- the "conservative" one, since the ballet-type stand out skirt goes just below the ass. The less conservative ones are essentially a bra with a mini skirt -- "Hooker Barbie goes to a Halloween Party!"

I finally settle on the Sheriff costume, to of course honor my AZ roots!! Woo hoo! And the outfit covers everything as well. Plus, I have a pair of unworn cowboy boots (East Village style) that my first roommate gave me when they didn't fit her. So might as well use those.

So, I then asked where the cowboy hats were. I walked over to the roped off section with the big "don't touch! Ask for help!" sign. The salesgirl is loudly hitting on/talking to another tattooed girl and relating an anecdote about a guy not being able to find the G spot. She is now telling the other girl precisely where it is -- as I am awkwardly waiting (she doesn't seem to notice she has a customer who really does need to purchase a cowboy hat!) After the full description, I pretend to have not heard and sheepishly say "um, I need a hat."

Once again, this fits into my theory about this. And Halloween in NYC is just like Halloween anywhere.

"Sugar? We're not that kinda store..."

I went in the whole foods. I was inspired. I'd just seen some cooking show on TV at the gym that had a blond Barbie-ish (yet not slutty) woman baking. She was the most like-able Barbie-ish person I'd seen, and she seemed so very thrilled to be baking and most of her cookware was pink. She was making pink cupcakes that matched not only her 50s style pink dress, but also matched her daughter's shirt, who was learning to make perfect swirls of frosting.

It was strange, but instead of being annoyed at this limited portrayal of a woman in a pink kitchen and huge pink dress, I was like -- wow! I want to bake. And the chick probably owned the whole TV show anyway.

I was overtaken by this need to go buy flour.

So I'm roaming the gigantic isles in the East Village Whole Foods. This store is like an airport. People rushing everywhere with that life or death "I'm going to miss my flight!" sort of urgency. People swarming past whole grain oatmeal and Antipasti pasta bars. Swiping up oranges as they power walk up to the automated futuristic check-out with three color-coded lines and a computer voice that says "register 3" "register 7" etc.

I finally find the baking section. Get a tiny thing of flour. But sugar...sugar? Where are you? There is every sugar alternative possible. Sugar in the raw. Brown sugar. Powdered. Organic, hand-something-or-other, vegan, vegetarian sugar that was raised in a country house by the shore. Sugar that farmers recited poetry to as it grew -- to ensure its sweetness. Sheltered, over-protected sugar. Sugar that was not watered with water, but with sugar water -- sugar water that is of course organic and grew up on a special sugar island made of pureness and love.

So I ask the guy, "Excuse me. Do you have any regular sugar?"

"Regular?"

"You know. Normal sugar?"

He laughs. Not condescendingly, but knowingly.

"No. We're not that kinda store." And he gestures to the product after product of whole grain something or other organic not-going-to-kill-you-as-quickly foods.

I laugh and pick up the artfully packaged zip lock bag of "Organic Cane Sugar," with a little picture of the sugar in its natural habitat, and go.

Walking past the meat, a young blond mother (or maybe she wasn't young, but looked it from the Whole Foods products) was asking "yes, but is it organic?" as she selected meats.

I wanted to say, "Yes! Of course it's organic. It's organic raw beef. And it's probably vegetarian too. And vegan."

Don't get me wrong. I'm ALL for healthy food, and I know most of our food standards here in the US suck. Completely. And organic really is better -- I actually think it should ALL be safe, organic food. But still. Sometimes you just want a little box of white, gonna-kill-you sugar.

Still, Whole Foods rocks and their produce is always perfect!

Anyway, so I then went home to find a gigantic fly in my studio. Not sure how it got there as I hadn't opened the window. It was so big it almost made me laugh. It was like one of those plastic Halloween flies you throw at kids to scare them. But real.

I threw a book at it, and it worked. I guess fly swatters don't really work because they can see it coming.

Sorry to combine those topics together. And to make it worse, I find myself getting really bored waiting for trains lately. I actually enjoy it when the rats come out on the tracks. It gives me something to watch. There were two the other day frolicking and playing -- almost running past each other in a leap-frog sort of way. Then I watch as people around me notice the mice. "

The ones who enjoy watching are either very much tourists and take a picture, or very much local, and bored.

This blog ended up being pretty random.