Write a Bike

Behance

I'm pretty sure that if someone could figure out how to produce one of these kids, I'd be the first to put my name on the waiting list! Rather obnoxious, but who wouldn't want to be riding around town on top of their own name? It definitely takes the legwork out of introducing yourself to strangers, when you can just zoom into neighborhoods with your name emblazoned between wheels.

I had an excellent low-key Thanksgiving yesterday. We, and there were only six of us (plus one more via Skype, by way of Stockholm), started off noshing on a slew of cheeses, toasted nuts and olives I had picked up earlier at Whole Foods. We kept the rest of the affair simple with a light stuffing, brussel sprouts and pancetta, roasted fennel and sweet potatoes, and a cumin-seasoned turkey. Yum. Lots of wine, Pellegrino, and Martinelli's apple cider too. Over the years, our Thanksgiving gatherings have gradually gotten smaller and smaller. I guess it's inevitable, as family members move on (figuratively and quite literally this year) to start their own families. But I'm looking forward to the future Thanksgivings when I get to warmly welcome my family and their new families (hopefully!), and maybe even new friends into my own home. And hopefully I'll have one of these sweet bicycles propped up outside of my apartment door when I do.

Monitor

One of my favorite songs.

Mantra

To say that the last two months have been one of the most trying periods in my life is an understatement. The people closest to me have watched me bury myself entirely in my work, and to suffer immeasurably as a result. I work over ten hours almost everyday. I am the first person in the office, and usually the last one out. I haven't taken a true hour-long lunch break in weeks. Most days, I'm so exhausted that I usually just go home, have something to eat, and then collapse into bed. I recognize that this is a cold, hard reality for a lot of New Yorkers, but it's just taking a long time for me to adjust to this new lifestyle and workload. Some days I wish I was unemployed or, at the very least, not so addicted to caffeine. And then I chide myself for being stupid, especially when there are people that are depending on me to survive.

There's a quote by Henry David Thoreau that I've been absentmindedly reciting to myself every now and then: "It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see." Sometimes when I'm staring bleakly at my desktop monitor, asking myself why oh why am I working so damn hard, I remind myself to stop and take a figurative step back. This isn't work, but an opportunity. These aren't strangers that I'm randomly calling, but potential sources of revenue and long-standing meaningful relationships on Wall Street. Sounds a little cheesy, but I think Thoreau's quote has become my mantra...or something. It's the one little thing I cling to in order to keep my eye on the big cash prize. And when I hit that deal, I'll go out for that long-awaited, TWO-hour-long lunch I know I deserve.

Stellar

I can't get Brandon Boyd's crooning out of my head. There's something timelessly perfect about a boy writing a love song about a girl. I'm almost positive that when I stumble upon this blog ten years from now, I'll feel the exact same way. How do you do it, Incubus? Make me feel like I do...

Fine Young Cannibals

Halloween 2009

Sometimes it can get so lonely, and you can't remember what you're doing or why the hell you're doing it. Nothing makes sense anymore. When I'm in a hole so deep that I can't figure out how to get out, I call my friends and let them talk to me. It doesn't matter what they say, so long as they talk. Sometimes all you need is to know that there's someone on the other side. Eventually they talk me out of doing something stupid, and I slowly crawl out of the hole again. But it's an endless struggle. Every time that I think I'm "there," I realize I've still got a hell of a long way to go.

Necessities

iPod Classic | Chanel Coco Mademoiselle | Nixon Time Teller P

I was thinking about stuff I always carry around with me, and realized that there's a holy trifecta I wouldn't dream of leaving my apartment without. It's not so much that having these items is a matter of life or death, but that each object serves as a different source of confidence, and can tell you a lot about the kind of person I am. I can't go anywhere without my iPod because my jams are better than the city's jams. Perfume makes me feel fresh, en pointe, ready. And my trusted watch reminds me of when I'm late, so lately I've been early to everything. I guess they're really just little trickeries of the mind, totems that you erect for yourself to get you through the day. But while they may seem inconsequential to you, they've been doing wonders for me.

Red

Remember when I said I didn't have the balls to wear red lipstick?