Marathon Friday

So this morning I was up a little after 7:00, as per the usual, and had this whole list of things that were going to happen today. As it turns out, I have enjoyed two movies and it is just noon. Hurray for days off!

I'm shaping up the apartment, doing laundry, getting my nails done, and generally treating it like a Sunday since this Sunday is not going to be a normal Sunday.

Sunday is Marathon Sunday. Over 40,000 people are running 26.2 miles through all 5 boroughs of the City of New York. I ran last year and had an amazing experience (see photo) but it is not something I needed to repeat.

Although I've been a runner for decades, I  do not enjoy what other runners call "long distance." I enjoy distances under 10 kilometers / 6.2 miles but many people run half marathons (13.1 miles) or marathons or even further-- distances that boggle the mild. Running a mile is an accomplishment. I find that my body talks back when I train more than 20 miles a week which just doesn't cut it when going face to face with 26.2 miles all at once.

Much like losing weight, there are a few basic principles to meeting your goals.  When it comes to training for the marathon, you run several times a week without ever missing your long run (over 10 miles) each weekend and a distance run (6-10 miles) in the middle of the week. Yes, we know what to do but actually doing it can be much more complicated. Well, not necessarily complicated but simply may not happen. Or when it does happen, people can get injured from pushing too hard too soon.

Marathon Sunday is an emotional day. Seeing how many people have done the work to lace up sneakers Sunday morning is impressive. Those of us who are not running are also involved. The whole route is lined with spectators, parties, and volunteers.  It is a great day to celebrate our friends and neighbors who support the runners and who are the runners.

An Ideal Work Day

When I was in high school, I remember talking with my uncle about how he really works for two hours on a good day.  His definition of working was rather lawyer-ly: "work" is the time where you are completely focus and doing something that only you can do. The rest of the time you are going through the motions.

At the time, he was the director of a bank. His hobbies include golfing, tennis, and cooking. Doing all these activities with his wife-- along with writing and managing his portfolio-- keeps him wildly happy now that he is in his 70s. It seems, in some ways, that he also has applied this theory to his life in retirement.

At the time of this conversation, I didn't had a job other than being in school. What my uncle has to say was intriguing and abstract, staying with me. Each time I've been at a job, I think about this idea. Those two hours a day are what make you happy to be there. If you don't have them, you can easily feel bored at work.

Yesterday, I volunteered for 4 hours working on a mailing to raise money for a non-profit organization that supports people who are brave enough to leave harmful domestic situations. They are so well organized and make it so comfortable to pitch in and help out that I love showing up.

There is another kind of satisfaction-- one that is different from the two challenging hours-- that comes from a repetitive task. You start with a pile of undone and it becomes a pile of done.

The best work days are a combination of the satisfaction from completing the straightforward tasks that build confidence in competence and the satisfaction from challenges that you are uniquely prepared to resolve.

An Ode to the iPad

 Since I used to work at an internet company, some people think I am a technology wizard. The reality is that am more of a reader and less of a computer person. Although I've always loved aspects of technology, nothing kills your love of being wired faster than over 200 emails a day. The peace and quiet that comes from having under 25 emails daily, needing to respond to under 10 is something I will miss about my not-working life. It just feels so civilized to talk on the phone and meet for coffee.

One of the big pluses to going back to work is that my better half promised to give me an iPad when I got a new job. We got it together on Saturday and I've been spending hours every day enjoying it. Even the bugs that were common when computers were less sophisticated are bringing me pleasue. Although the iPad is amazing, the flaws of newness triggers nostalgia.

Yes, we've been able to get samples of books off Amazon for years, the process of downloading the first 30 pages of a new novel and reading it on a subway ride just thrills me. I have a few dozen classics that I downloaded for free as well as a few books I purchased.

Reading the paper, responding to emails on a full keyboard, looking a photos, and generally having a full sized laptop screen with many laptop functions feels like a big quality of life improvement in New York while it is probably less exciting elsewhere.

Last month, one of my friends visited New York after having moved to Portland a year or so ago. She talked about how she doesn't have a lot of waiting time in Portland because she walks, takes her bike, and sees people she knows so often. In New York, waiting is an everyday part of life. We wait for public transportation and sit while we are taken to our destinations. We wait in lines for coffee, groceries, movie tickets, free events, and for other people to show up. We get places early because you never know what can happen on the way. As a result, having lots of good reading on you at all times makes me giddy with joy.

If you know of any apps that are particularly fun, please let me know.

New Job!

The premise of this blog is that I don't have a job. Since Monday is my first day at my new job, I need to figure out what to do with this site.  I certainly cannot be writing about work. I can write about the funny people in my neighborhood. I can write about experiences in the city in general.

The new job is an excellent fit. The people are lovely. The company has a fantastic reputation. The work itself sounds fun challenging, encompassing a lot of different skill sets in an environment I see myself thriving in. As with any job, it won't be without it's challenges but these topics will not be part of this blog anymore.

Open Spaces, Open Water

Although being in the middle of Times Square is just what happens sometimes when you live here, I don't particularly enjoy these urban hubs. My day-to-day existence in New York involves as much time in the open grandeur of this little island off the New Jersey coast as possible.

I like to spend time in parks, museums, and libraries. These spaces that I enjoy the most are also spaces that I've help maintain over the years.

When I lived in Chelsea, a few blocks east of the Hudson River, I would go running in the morning on a broken path. In the decade since I lived there, it has greatly improved. I would see very few other people while the white noise of the cars along the West Side Highway mixed with the water rocking softly against the piers under my feet.

The part I loved the most about these mornings was seeing the ships traveling along the Hudson.  In a time of computers and intellectual property, here was a reminder of the deep waters surrounding this island. All the waterways converging around it, made this island the ideal port. New York being a port led to it being a city, to the center of industry, and now a center of thought. Those lone majestic ships once traveled in the same river as part of a crowd.

The world changes the world. We adjust. We adept.

Photos: Isla and Isla (detail), Yoan Capote

Well Written Blog Post from Someone Else

This is a link about prep and expectations from a hiring manager. My favorite part is when she reminds people to check attachments since once someone attached an essay about her cat. The essay is at the bottom of the post. Love it!

What My Wednesday Looks Like

After 5 months of being unemployed, I am used to the way days blend into each other and how relative productivity can be. I've been up since 5:40am.

At 6am, I walked dogs with my every-Wednesday-morning-we-run friend. We did not run for a great reason: she is recovering from a recent marathon which she ran fast enough to qualify for the Boston Marathon. This is sort of the running equivalent of being ranked in tennis.

It was light out when I got back to the apartment at 7am as my partner-in-crime was just waking up. We had coffee together, figured out dinner plans, and said goodbye.

8am I returned the latest Netflix, picked up the paper, and spent the next hour reading-- bringing me to 9am. At which time I wrote emails, read favorite blogs, and check out links posted by friends on Facebook.

10am brought a phone call from a friend about hanging out on Friday afternoon. We caught up for about 15 minutes. The call reminded me of a filmmaker I meant to look up. Read interviews, watched YouTube clips, and generally was satisfied by my new knowledge by 11am.

Made a snack and coffee number two before writing this post while ignoring the 8 other tabs I currently have open in the browser.

What else is going on today? I want to finish reading "The Good Earth" by Pearl S Buck (Pulitzer Prize, 1939), will lift weights at the gym, will get a manicure in preparation for an interview tomorrow, practice French with a downloaded podcast, meditate for half an hour, and have dinner with friends.

I wasn't expecting to be unemployed at all but when the reality hit me in mid-April I planned to enjoy it as much as possible while putting one foot in front of the other towards finding the next right job. It still feels like I'm in a holding pattern, but I've embraced it for what it is.

Scheduling is the First Part of the Interview

On September 2nd, I applied for a job that I could do perfectly while asleep. It is working for a great company with more earning potential than my last job. At the time, I was thinking about moving to California and this seemed like a reasonable alternative.

They reached out to me by email on Monday to schedule an interview for this week. I gave several large blocks of time that would work for me. They set something up for a time next Monday when I was not free.  I rescheduled so I could be available for them.

This afternoon, they asked me to come in tomorrow during a time that I am also busy. I replied with a request to discuss rescheduling by phone and have not heard back. Why, 6 weeks after ignoring my application, is this urgent? I have already rearranged my schedule to accommodate them once.  If HR called me on Monday instead of emailing to ask about tomorrow afternoon, I could have rescheduled but I will not reschedule at this point. I have written about this sort of this before but I'm surprised so many potential employers start off on the wrong foot.

On the other hand, the place that I interviewed with a few times in the past few weeks (and have another interview with later this week) has felt more respectful of my time. When I made it through the first round, the second round person was not expecting me but agreed to see me anyway. The most important interview so far was with someone who was expecting me on a Thursday, not a Tuesday but we met for over an hour anyway. My next interview is with an executive so I need to take a train for this meeting. Since it was scheduled far in advance, it was easy to say yes.

Is it possible that my decision to not let this other HR person's disorganization spill over into my life before I've even gotten the job will prevent me from being considered? Yes. Yes it is. But if it was you, would you rethink your application if the process looked like the list below before you even got in the door?

Sept 2: apply online, tell friend at company who emails relevant parties
Sept 8: friend emails relevant parties again to confirm receipt of my application
Sept 21: I email relevant parties restating my interest
Sept 28: friend emails me to see if I heard back after Sept 21 (no)
Oct 4: friend emails relevant parties asking if position is still open
Oct 11: HR asks when I am free this week, I respond with 3 large blocks of time this week
Oct 12: HR picked a time on Monday when I am not free, I reschedule my plans, and respond yes
Oct 13: HR asks me to come in tomorrow afternoon (I am not free)
Oct 13: I ask them to call me to see if we can work something out

Calling Out Sick

One of the best parts of not working is having a cold. I know that sounds counter intuitive but it feels great to be home sick taking care of myself without worrying about all the things I'm not doing at work.

At my last job, there was a day when I went home early. There was a walk through of a storage space that, as most spaces of that nature, becomes a dumping ground for items that might be useful some day. Actually, in my apartment my spouse refers to this spot as "the compromise corner." I think of it as the "Goodwill staging area" but it somehow can take weeks to exit the premises.

Everyone knows that apartment rents are high in Manhattan but commercial square foot rentals can be 10 times the rate of residential rentals. In such a world, such spaces should not exist at all. Whatever the item, buying a new one is cheaper than squirreling it away in a place that should be an office.

Trying to emphasize both the luxury of a storage space in the first place and the need to keep it organized in order to hold on to it did not go over well with my team. On this particular day, there was going to be a walk through and a small party to reward the newly organized space.

I woke up while it was still dark out to throw up. I was able to get back to sleep for awhile but the scene repeated itself just before taking a shower. I made it through the shower. I did not quite make it through the door before round 3 hit. But I was going to get to work and I was going to be at that walk through.

The walk though was scheduled for 4pm-- the end of the day-- so the party would not interfere too much with the regular work day. Before lunch, I tried laying down on the floor of an unused conference room. That was after throwing up a fourth time. This rest was interrupted by my needing to dash into the ladies room, throwing up for a fifth time. After being so adamant about the work needing to be complete in time for the walk through, I went home early. By leaving, I felt I was letting my team down.

At my previous job, I once called in sick with the flu. I rented and watched "The Pianist". Let me tell you, nothing makes you feel like a bigger loser. Watching a movie about Holocaust survivors when home with a stuffy head and a fever does not make you feel better.

I have had two nasty colds over the past two weeks and it is the nicest feeling to have no obligation beyond getting over it.

The Plus Column

I've started so many posts but not finished them this week. You see, I'm excited that I may have found the next right thing. It isn't want I would have imagined a year ago but it has a lot of items in the plus (vs minus) column. Part of my excitement about this position is that I know a number of other facilities managers nearby.

The interesting thing about this unexpected good fit is that I have this amazing network of people to reach out to about it. Three friends gave me information about what it is like working for the company, what the most important part of the job is, and even details about the people I interviewed with. People think of New York as such a big city but it can also be small in some ways.

One of my friends, a facilities manager I know from a professional organization, was laid off last week. This friend was already looking for work and we would often talk about how few opportunities we have seen. It is anecdotal, but my original theory that since construction has slowed that facilities becomes that much more important to companies is not holding true. Perhaps the people making decisions see it as an area that does not generate revenue so it is an area where reducing costs will have a positive impact on the bottom line.

Whatever the thinking, I'm glad to be part of this community and am looking forward to helping people be happy at work in the near future.

Private is Public

When I get an email about a job, I do a few searches about the sender and the company, spending no more than 10 minutes just to get a bit of a context. This week I have seen a baby home movie and read a dad's obituary from two days earlier.  There is a lot of personal information on the internet! I'm sure this is the first you are hearing about this.

When most people talk about online privacy, it ranges from concern about strangers being able to watch your virtual movements to the more specific. A few examples? Wanting searches about health conditions and... um... personal interests to remain private. But what I upload about myself to the public domain-- this blog, for example-- is a personal decision with personal consequences. Just for the record, that is not my family to the left.

When I search my own name, my LinkedIn profile comes up close to the top. You can learn where I went to college and the names of some family members. You can see a few pieces of art I've made. My Facebook profile is restricted to friends. If you dig a bit deeper, there are some slightly more personal items but thankfully that picture of me hiking through Utah as a high school sophomore is no longer up.  I don't think anyone accessing my online persona would feel like they walked in on me in the locker room.

What do I do with the information that someone emailed me two days after his father passed away? When I read that article, I had two thoughts simultaneously: I have invaded this man's privacy and why is he working. Watching a 2 minute home movie of another stranger's children was a much more positive experience (so cute) but it felt uncomfortable because I certainly was not the intended audience.

At the same time, these 10 minute searches can reveal extremely useful information so I am glad that I take the time to do them. Being more savvy about what is up in the cloud for all to see is up to the individual. Some might say that I shouldn't be doing these searches if I know the outcome could potentially put me in an awkward position.

Group Meditation

I went to a group meditation in Chelsea tonight with two friends and didn’t know what to expect. 

The oldest Zendo in the United States is a few blocks from my apartment. I’ve practiced there during open practice before but they are super formal. Like, change into a robe and chant formal. I find it intimidating.

This place was nothing like that. The center is in a creaky loft with a clean floor and muslin curtains. The leader told a story about a muscular thin young yoga instructor who was offered a seat on the subway by an older woman, was sure it was because she looked pregnant, and this sent her into a 3 day depression. 

People were invited to share, focusing on how we look for confirmation of stories we tell ourselves. After that, we meditated together for 20 minutes. Most of us chatted informally for a few minutes after the class.

At some point during the meditation, the teacher suggested we count our breath to ten to maintain focus so I started counting in English and got the idea it would be fun to count to ten in as many languages as I could. When I was struggling through the German, I thought that probably wasn’t what he meant so I went back to English.

An Act of Congress

Over the weekend, I had an odd realization. I considered moving to California before thinking about working off the island of Manhattan. "Why would I ever need to leave?" is the mantra of many a New Yorker.

Why do I live in Manhattan? I lived in Brooklyn for a number of years but Manhattan feels like home now. Is it for the convenience? Stepping outside has the pulse of adventure mixed with the comfort of the familiar. I'm near my friends. My favorite spaces are within walking distance. I don't need a car.  It seems irresponsible to throw away all that is a right in my life for a job. Isn't that the premise of countless gaffs about not one in the hospital wishing to spend more time in the office?

But there is still the question of money. Unemployment is not a fortune but it is essentially enough to live on. Yesterday, I confirmed that my benefits have been extended by an act of congress, giving me the luxury of time to keep looking for the right job in the New York area.

Within hours of realizing that I have have seven months to find the right job, a recruiter reached out to me about an excellent position in New York. I have enough experience with this to know that I may never hear about the job again but it is a sign that my strategy will work if I continue to be a balance of persistent and patient.

This morning was the first time that I applied for a position within the realm of public transportation but off the island of Manhattan.  It is easy to go through the motions-- to continue doing what you are already doing. Taking the time to weigh all the options to make a decision-- even if that decision is to keep on the same track-- is empowering. I am on this path because I have chosen this path.

Zen Cooking

Enjoying this time between jobs has taken a more concerted effort. More moments of anxiety and frustration catch me by surprise as time ticks on.  As a result, I am rediscovering old hobbies like cooking and watching lots of tv. The two converged yesterday when I saw a documentary about a zen chef, best known for writing a bread baking best seller in the 1960s.

The idea of saving every grain of rice and treating food as you would your eyesight is so removed from how I relate to food but I appreciate that it doesn't need to be.

Before working at an office with 3 free hot gourmet meals a day, I was a New York anomaly. During my first decade here, I cooked so often that I could count the number of times I had ordered food to be delivered to my apartment on one hand.  Google changed that. How could my humble dinner ever top the miso cod with heirloom tomatoes and raw mint ice cream at lunch?

The internet makes finding recipes so much easier than pouring over cookbooks. For example,  I had a lot of mushrooms in the fridge and friends coming over for dinner last night. A search for mushroom chili resulted in a dish that fit easily into my cooking-for-an-hour-is-long-enough guideline. 

The end result? I received the best compliment a cook can get: "I thought I wasn't going to like this at all but I'm going back for seconds and want the recipe."

The process of making a dessert-- angel food strawberry shortcake (see above)-- was much more exciting then I had anticipated. I had never made an angel food cake before and it is fascinating to watch it come to life. The recipe calls for 12 egg whites whipped into a frenzy. Uncooked, it is it's own unique substance with a texture between foam and batter.

One of my friends brought over heavy cream, which she whipped up after we finished the chili. Building a fresh strawberry shortcake cake with my friends after sharing a good meal is one of the wonderful experiences that was so much easier to make happen because I'm unemployed.

Dear Martha, Thank you for the free spoon

Captains log: week day number 6 of jack hammers in the street outside my apartment. I have just consumed a balanced breakfast of coffee and fresh baked chocolate chip cookies after a brief run in Central Park.

As I have officially passed the "4 months unemployed" mark, this whole not working thing has developed into a strange mix of annoyance at how these unstructured days blend together and trying to savor the experience since I can't go on like this much longer.

Over the weekend, I was in the elevator at the gym (don't judge me) with two people in their 70s chatting. I couldn't help but listen in. "I was talking with Mayor Mike's girlfriend the other day. He is so involved with Washington. I bet they ask his advice on everything. 'What is going on with the economy?' I asked her. She said 'Mike says the economic situation is unfixable.' Can you imagine? What a mess we're in."

It was disheartening since it was confirmation of my impression that finding a good job in New York will take me awhile and it is heartening since we're all in this boat together. This is still New York so the city is filled with a full spectrum of opportunity.

My running team was asked to help promote Martha Stewart's new cooking show yesterday by dressing in matching running shirts, aprons, and holding wooden spoons while getting our picture taken. I'm not sure about the process that led to this publicity photo shoot, but I'm thankful for my new running shirt, apron, and wooden spoon.

It was an odd event. We were supposed to meet at a running store that had a group run scheduled around the same time. People not in our club got confused and put on shirts and were surprised we didn't go outside to run in the rain like everyone else. We were also confused about the people who were not runners and suspected had responded to a Craigslist posting to make a few dollars.

Throughout this whole experience I was thinking "Hey! Lucky me! I get free stuff to go running with my friends just like I would be doing anyway."

The strangest part was not the confused runners or the young women looking to make a few dollars but a conversation with a new woman in her 40s in the club.
 
She said the most curious thing. She said the wooden spoon was made out of balsa wood and wouldn't last a week "if you really cook with it."

"How do you know what kind of wood it is?"a teammate asked her.

"I cook a lot. And I know a lot about wood." Her tone was firm and challenging.

I knew she was wrong but didn't say anything. The kind of person who is going to make up something negative to say about a free spoon is not my kind of person. I walked away to talk to other people.

How did I know? I looked at the spoon using my experience with high end millwork. It wasn't balsa.  From the grain pattern, it looked like white oak. It wasn't tight enough to be teak and teak is darker. Other hard woods like maple, walnut, cedar or ipe tend to be more expensive and darker.  I did a fingernail test to confirm it wasn't older growth pine. The handle and the paddle are two separate pieces, glued together which makes it lower quality then to other wooden spoons in my kitchen but this one is free.

Confidence of Community

On Thursday night, I met with one of my friends who is moving to London in October to start a new job. She has also lived in New York City for more than ten years. Unlike me, she currently has a job that she is unhappy with. Just like me, she has seen the experience looking for a new job in New York in this economy has been unlike any other time she has looked for a new position.

Getting so much support from the people closest to me gives me confidence that-- not only is this temporary-- but the important pieces of my life are together. On top of having a great network of friends, people who I don't really know have made time to advise and support me as well.

I keep thinking how lucky I am that to be surrounded by great people. Becoming part of a community takes time. I have a beautiful life in New York that has taken years to get to. I'm surrounded by wonderful people who I've chosen and who have chosen me. Friendship isn't just about physical location.

Yet, without a job I don't have the ability to sustain this life in New York in the long term. I am also missing that key component to my happiness-- the sense that I am a contributing member of society.  By volunteering this summer, I've given something back to the city that has taken such good care of me but the is a temporary solution and long term solution.

The reality that there are few jobs that would make me happy and look respectable on my resume in New York given the state of the economy. Just as I have an amazing group of people behind me in New York, I'm lucky to have a group of friends in Northern California who are making it easy for me to move there. Fingers crossed that everything falls into place.

My Unfolding Future

After four months of searching, there is no reason to compromise on my most basic job requirement: looking forward to going to work in the morning.  I know what the right job looks like but it might not be in New York.  That realization opens up a much bigger can of possibility. I've gone from a job search based on an one-foot-in-front-of-the-other approach to being bewildered at the depth of how much is unknown right now.

Historically, I've been a master of the healthy kind of self-deception that it takes to make great leaps of faith. Moving to New York City after college felt like the right thing to do. I don't know the exact dollar figure I had when I moved to a 2 month sublet in 1997. The number was in the three figures and I spent a few hundred of it on an interview-appropriate outfit I pieced together by combing high-end thrift stores when I got cabin fever. I was offered four jobs within a few weeks and whined about not getting offered the fifth one I had interviewed for. My naivety knew no bounds and my good fortune kept me blissfully unaware of the risk I had just taken.

After college, there wasn't anything to stick around for. Moving back in with my dad to figure my next step felt like moving in the wrong direction. With the years in between, I have built a fulfilling life that I love. How much of that is about location?

There is no decision to be made at this point. Thinking about moving at 35 feels different from moving at 22. I find myself watching life more closely... thinking that I need to store these moments up... just in case this New York chapter has only a few pages left.

Backpacks, France, Tipper Gore, and Architecture

Yesterday was great. In the afternoon, I volunteered for the second time to fill 600 backpacks with school supplies for children in need.  One of the other volunteers had this tattoo on his neck and let me take a picture.

All the work me and a few other volunteers did ahead of time served us well. It went super smoothly. Well, there was a slow working odd lady in her 50s with frizzy 1970s hair and glitter patches all over face (I found the lip liner particularly disturbing) but watching us working carefully around her was entertaining enough to make up for any delays.

Last Monday was the first time I helped out. It was me alone in a room with boxes of backpacks that needed to be unpacked and labeled. The repetition of the work involved many wandering thoughts. Making a game of such tasks always serves me well. Trying to unpack each box faster than the last, finding new little tricks to make that happen, are desperately needed to make six hours of organizing alone an entertaining way to pass the day.

Something about thinking about late summer and going back to school triggered a reflection on the summer between my freshman and sophomore year of college. I certainly had my fair share of problems growing up but if I could justify the expenditure, the money was always there.

The summer of 1994, I continued a French class in France for a few months. The best part of that trip was meeting an Australian, whom I also shared an amazing summer in New York two years later while working as an intern at a museum. She invited me to stay in Europe a bit longer to see more of France, followed by Italy and Switzerland.

I called my father, who was happy to pay for it-- if that was really what I wanted to do. It was so much more expensive then living with a host family during my language classes that I decided to go home to DC instead. I missed my high school friends.

Once home, I combed the Help Wanted section of the paper and quickly found some odd jobs, many of which were as much fun as unwrapping backpacks. I had a few shifts each week as a cashier at a nice deli. The slow hours seemed to drag on forever but the thick activity of breakfast and lunch was intoxicating. I would calculate change in my head, impressing most customers but annoying a few who didn't know for sure how much I owed them.

Late one afternoon, after the lunch rush, Tipper Gore came in with secret service and a friend. She ordered a fancy coffee drink from me. While giving her change, I complemented her speech from the day before-- which I had seen on CSPAN the previous night.
"You watch CSPAN?"
"I don't work here all the time."

On another day, a friend's mom stopped in asked if I had found a major. When I told her I was planning to become an architect, she arranged for me to meet her friend-- a successful woman architect-- for lunch. When I was looking for a winter internship, literally sending a letter of interest to dozens of firms, she recommended me at a firm recently started by a former employee. It was the first job I had in my field.

A year later, when I was interviewed to be an intern at a museum, I was told that 6 week internship was the reason I was being considered. It set me apart since no other applicant had experience with architecture. If I hadn't been working in that deli, I wouldn't have gotten that first job in New York.

Kentucky KVI

The past week has been another Summer vacation. This time was in Kentucky. It was a great week. Key Vacation Indicators (KVI) listed below:

Miles Driven: 2,015

Hours floating: 9

Dairy Queen Blizzards: 4

Friday Summary

Looking back each week, I feel like I've done a lot but since I don't have a job there is a different sort of rhythm and satisfaction. Tons has happened in the world this week--  Kagan, 9.5%, A-Rod, BP, 49th birthday, Russian fire, Prop 8-- but dialing it back, here is how just me spent 168 hours.



Movies: 5
Whip It 
The Incredibles
Shanghai Surprise
Sliding Doors
Home for the Holidays

Books: 2
The Perks of Being a Wallflower
Museum: Behind the Scenes at the Metropolitan Museum of Art

Museum: 3
Always talk to the security guards. They live with the work. It's just like asking about roommates.

Exercise: 4
You know you're a Central Park regular when you chat with friends you bump into while running. This happened twice this week.

Volunteer: 1
Fancy fundraiser.

Scheduled meet ups not included above: 13
Sunday trip to Mitsuwa, a Japanese mall in New Jersey, resulted in many ginger flavored treats.