"Excuse me?" she asked tapping me on the shoulder.

"Yes?" I replied.

"Can you tell me how to get to Fifth Avenue from here?" she questioned with the total perplexed look on her face.

"Well, we're on Sixth Avenue, so if you head one more block East, you'll be at Fifth," I said answering her and trying not to be sarcastic. I mean, she could be a tourist or just in the city for the day. I could see how a person could get a bit confused in this city...even with the grid being in mostly numerical order.

As I walked across the street, I got to thinking about the fact that she was asking me for directions (I often spend most days feeling a touch lost moving through my everyday life). I don't know why I thought that was so funny, but probably for that lost feeling that I randomly experience, I just did.

Now, I can't say that it's the first time that this has happened to me (someone stopping me for directions, that is)...actually, it happens to me all the time, but maybe it happens like that for everyone and I just don't know about it? Nah, some people have to know where they're going, right? I would like to think so, but working in the hub of the city that I do, maybe I'm wrong?

I had someone contact me last week that I haven't spoken to in quite some time. We had something of a falling out maybe seven years ago (before this blog) and haven't spoken since. Basically, he said a few things in error and I didn't care for it, so in my mind, I rightfully cut him off. Sure, I could have thought more about it and selected a different choice of action, but at the time, that's the choice I chose that was healthiest for me...the right direction that I wanted.

Well, his email stirred up some emotions that I didn't even know that I had brewing inside me...either for the moment or for the incident that had happened so long ago. I can't say that I gave what happend all that much thought through out the years, but it was something that bothered me. Like the saying goes, time heals all wounds, but I got to thinking...does it really? Sure, I had mainly forgotten about him, but like ripping the band-aid off of a wound (and the scab coming with it), I was flooded with feelings that I hadn't felt in quite a long time. Why was this and what was it supposed to teach me?

Needless to say, I read his email and replied saying that sometimes we do/say things at various points in our life and they don't have to define who we really are (I know I have). I told him that I accepted his apology, because it closed a chapter in my life that I didn't realize was still open, but at the same time, it allowed him to move on (someone contacts you seven years later, they must be sorry or looking for money...and he didn't ask for a cent).

It's funny how life and decisions change as you grow older and you mature in directions you never thought possible.

Maybe I'm better at finding Fifth Avenue than I thought?

As I get older, I think that I learn more and more about life with each passing minute. I know, I'm probably not the only one, but let me live in my self-centered bubble for a minute, ok?

I've been thinking about life and the paths that we all choose sometimes. I used to think that everything that happens in one's life is completely up to them (barring sickness, murder, etc.), but I've come to think that I'm wrong. Sure, we all make choices that put us in the situations to make bad choices, but who's to say that at any given moment what choice we might make if given the same circumstances. Often times, we're a product of our experiences, not the superheroes that we all wish that we were and those experiences aren't always pretty.

I'm realizing that I'm going to start loving life from the perspective of the person that I am, not the one that I want to be. I know who he is, the one that I want to be I'm referring to now (and no, don't start calling me Cybil), but sometimes I feel like I never quite make the grade and you know what, that's OK. We can't be perfect all the time and that's fine because I'm having fun being the person that I am while trying and lately, that's enough for me.

God, 30 really is different...in a good way.

More to come...

Do you ever put a spritz of cologne on in the morning and then you just can't stand it and wish you never did? I'm partial to one particular scent, but sometimes I do like to mix it up a bit. Please note, I really only wear it to work and not all the time. I do appreciate some good man smell sometimes if you know what I mean.

It's Friday here in the Chilly Apple and there's nothing really huge to report...well, besides this Columbian guy that I'm talking to again. Let's just leave it at that. I don't like to jinx anything...not that there's much to jinx at this point (already been there done that before), but it's nice to have someone in the wings. I haven't allowed that to happen in quite some time.

I wonder if he wears cologne sometimes?

Now on to the FU Friday list...
- People that just stop walking (hello, there's a whole planet behind you buddy)
- Cell phone screamers ("Can you hear me now?" You betcha)
- People who wear those bluetooth things and aren't driving - you're not cool...you look like Lt. Uhura from Star Trek
- Legislation against iPods and walking - it ain't our fault the bus horns aren't loud enough for those fools with their iPods so loud they don't hear it
- "Trim Spa baby!"- poor Anna Nicole
- Awards shows - Great, let's watch the rich celebrate each other..."oh fun, but did you see her dress?" Fuck off fucker!

That's it...have a great weekend.

I had the chance to speak to an old friend the other day and I'm shocked at how much we've both changed. My life has taken a turn in a very different direction (don't worry, I'm still employed and looking fabulous *hair flip*), but something about my conversation with him spoke to me like never before.

He used to live here in the city, but now lives in another part of the country. I asked how he was and heard about all of the comings and goings of people in his life. "Hey, how's your Grandma doing?" I inquired. "Bro, she died like almost two years ago," he emphatically replied. "Oh, my belated condolences...I didn't know," I said to him.

At one point I used to be a shoulder for him to cry on, but now...I'm obviously out of the loop.

He told me about his boyfriend and how he's still mixed up in the "scene". "Oh, is he an actor?" I asked in jest. I knew what he was talking about, but just pointing out how stupid it all sounds now. It does really...sound stupid...we do...you do...you get it.

"Do you ever go out or just hang around, etc.?" he inquired. "I do paint the town red on occasion, but those days appear like Halley's comet," I told him. "Man, it's like...if I go out on a Saturday night with some friends and get some dinner, then some drinks and then end up shaking my booty somewhere and doing the walk of pride (who says it's shame bitches?) out of some dude's house on Sunday afternoon, then fine, but I'll be damned if I'm going to sleep before Saturday Night Live only to get up at 6 AM and dance down in aisle C in some bodega with a disco ball because some random DJ that is too fabulous for fcuking words takes a shit in their bathroom...those days are OVER (not ovah thank you very much)" I continued. "I'm thirty years old...I don't need to be Mr. Atlantis vacation wondering how many days until the White Party. Can't I just have a decent (and somewhat dogged and dirty) time with someone that knows what they're doing...just them and I and that be good enough for me?" I finished my soapbox tirade with...and then he told me about the Atlantis cruise he's going on that he just booked.

Oh, how we both changed and what a shame that can sometimes be for some friends.

In another part of the city, I noticed that there was a dance being held in memory of someone that I met only once...very randomly. He and I had the chance to speak briefly amidst all of this chaos that surrounded him in his own house. It was a very moving experience for me, which he probably will never know or understand, but I'm saddened to know that he lost his battle with his demons last year. While, I don't know all that much about his history or his full life, by sitting at his kitchen table, I heard more about struggle and hardship from him and his friend and that never left me. If anything, their stories inspire me (still even to this day) to make the most of mine...struggles and all. "You can't have the sweet without the sour!"

I'm sad to hear he lost his life last year and hope that he's happy wherever he may be. Again, I don't know all that much about him as a person, but I hope that in this case, he did find his change...and in this case, hallelujah!

I'm twelve days into the valley of thirty something guys and I've been giving it a lot of thought. It's not every day that one changes a decade in life...should I be doing something different? Can I make myself look better? Shouldn't I just feel better and stop being so vain? Yeah, probably, but you know you all thought it too.

My job keeps me swamped and I left my wallet in the back of a taxi cab yesterday...I'm off to the DMV to get a new driver's license after this conference call that I'm on.

If this is a harbinger of things to come...maybe the twenties weren't so bad?

More to come this year...I promised. Lots to talk/think about. *TRUST* Do you want a taste? I won't even tell you about the last guy that I met/went out with! Ok, just a little...I'm in his lovely NY apartment when he finally comes clean. "I've been lying to you," he says to me. "Really? About what?" I respond. Ok kids...his name, age, nationality, employment...and then I hear keys jingle as I'm lying there with him (half naked) on his couch...his "roommate" is really his live in boyfriend (home from a business trip early).

It can't keep being like this.

By request...

Exploring Your Closet

When you're getting ready for the day, what item do you decide you want to wear first and base the rest of your outfit around. . . the shirt, pants, or shoes?

It has to be the shirt. Pants really are the Jan Brady of the outfit...people know their there, but they get less attention. Then again, when they're not working, that's all one's eyes can focus on (well, and for a few other reasons). Shirt, shoes and then pants if you make me put them in order.

Do you wear jeans more than khakis, or vice versa? Being that I wear khakis and dress pants to work, I would go with them, but I do wear jeans.
How many pairs of jeans do you own? Are you loyal to a brand?

I probably own five or six pairs and they are all from the GAP. They're the only one's that fit in all of the right places. Loose fit, straight leg.

What color socks do you wear most often. . . black, blue, brown, or white?

This is HARD. Being that I'm someone that embraces color regularly (my closet is a real rainbow) and knowing that one's socks have to match one's pants (not shoes)...I would have to say that I probably wear black the most. I wear white ankle socks with jeans and sneaks and around the house though. I *heart* them big time.

Boxers, briefs, boxer-briefs, tighty whities, or commando?

Always tighty whities unless I have shorts on at home...then commando.

Regarding athletic shoes, do you buy basketball, cross trainer, or running shoes?

Basketball sneakers are ugly. I stick with cross trainers, but I do go more for color.

What does the outfit that makes you look best consist of?

A single breasted suit, black with a fine pinstripe, crisp white shirt with cufflinks exposed and a yellow and black tie. Works EVERY time.

What "fashion rule" are you most likely to be caught breaking?

I'm pretty good with this kind of stuff...uh, sometimes I wear a black leather messenger bag (Kenneth Cole) with an Earth-tone outfit (brown, khaki, green), etc. I just like the bag and haven't bought a brown one.

Do you buy most of your clothes at one store? Which one?

I would guess that a lot of my clothing comes from Banana Republic.

What do you wear to bed?

That depends on where I am, but usually, nothing.

What's new? I often get a bunch of emails asking me what's new in my world. I'll admit that it usually leads to a post, so here goes.

I stood near Diddy's car the other night. It was a Maybach and it was fucking hot! No really, I'm talking "Fabulous life of celebrity superspenders on VH-1" hot! I had dinner at the restaurant across the street from his record release party and there it was. HOT!

OMG, is that really all I have to talk about? Diddy's car? Could it be?

I stood on the ferry the other night waiting for the boat to pull into the dock. It's a long and laborious task (well, depending on the time of day and one's mood), but I stood there as this man in front of me was text messaging his son. He couldn't have been all that much older than me, but he was writing to him offering some support in what seemed like a time of need. "Son, just keep your grades up and your head up. I promise you that everything will get better and I miss you everyday!" he wrote to him.

I couldn't help but wonder what horrible thing was going on in this boy's life that he needed such reassurance, but it was then that I realized that this man must be absent in his everyday life and I'm sure that must be difficult for any boy. I can't imagine what my life would have been like in that same situation. I'm pretty fortunate when it comes to family life...not everyone has what I do.

It was also at that minute that I noticed the tear running down the face of the man and him wiping it away with his finger. Apparently, he needed some reassurance of his own. He just looked up, took a deep breath and regained his composure. He stood there for a split second and then he noticed I was looking and he just smiled and looked over at me. I just smiled back and nodded...almost giving him one of those, it's all good kind of smiles...a pat on the back without the touch kind of moments. He just nodded in agreement.

I don't know if we were really thinking the same thing at that moment. Maybe he was just wondering why this guy was starring at him, but I doubt it. I think he knew that I saw someone hurting at that moment and offered a "hand"...some reassurance...that everything just might end up OK.

They say in life that it's not manly to be caught crying, but keeping it bottled up and turning cold on the inside isn't too attractive as a manly attribute either.