Root for the Home Team!!
Baseball themed day today. Woke up to iron my suit before I headed to Bridgewater. Feelin' good since the city is my playfield. All ready to hit the day while it is hot. But in this game, three strikes and yo' ass is OUT!
Oh, let me count the ways:
1) Band-aid. My blister finally popped by itself and it is healing but the dead skin is all gray and the new skin is like bright pink. I ran out of the standard Band-Aids. So I look around and the only ones I find have Sanrio characters on them. So I will meet the regional director with a cartoon character wrapped around my finger. No biggie. I am so sure he will take me seriously because I look like I'm all business. Strike one.
2) No cash. Went inside Penn Station. No Banks of America. Ok so I see one like every two minutes when I am roaming around in the city, but when I actually need one, there are none. Bite me!! So with no time to waste, I had to suck it up and go to an ATM that charged me a pretty penny to get some cash. Strike two.
3) Bathroom. Went to the hotel and had to go to the bathroom. Came out and washed my hands thinking, "hey, why are there urinals in here? so strange." Umm, cuz it is the men's bathroom!! Some guy comes in and I shrugged it off and walked out. Strike three.
Dude, my ass is so struck out even though I didn't even make it to the meeting. Or am I? The meeting went surprisingly well. The regional director even seemed pleased as he shook my hand (the one with the Pochacco Band-Aid on it). Relief!
--
Just got "It's Not About the Bike" (Lance Armstrong). As I read it on the train, I saw a whole bunch of people that wore the "Livestrong" bands. In the book, he talks about how he didn't get along with his adopted father, Terry Armstrong, and didn't consider himself an Armstrong. So why we all be wearing them? I guess it has to do with mantra.
--
I have grown a lot this summer. I used this hiatus to get back on track to figure out what kind of person I want to be and what is it that I truly want to do. NYC is such swill sometimes. And I say it in the most endearing way possible. It is a place where more begets more and sucks you up to want everything faster, better more. But I learned something this summer. I do things because I will to do them. I am not defined by things nor even what I do. I am defined by who I am and the value exists just because I am me. So all the bs melts away and I can enjoy the city once again. I do what I want to do. I hang out who I want to hang out with. I am going to do my best in everything I do because that is the person I want to be. I am at this deeper place in my life now. And I am better for it.
--
So enough of this spiel. I bumped into Robert so we will hang on thurs. Whoopee!! And I definitely am in the mood for some fro-yo. That, and of course, some cracker jacks :)
--
Trivia of the Day: What city is Lance Armstrong originally from?
(Yesterday's Answer: Jaden Gil Agassi).
Oh, let me count the ways:
1) Band-aid. My blister finally popped by itself and it is healing but the dead skin is all gray and the new skin is like bright pink. I ran out of the standard Band-Aids. So I look around and the only ones I find have Sanrio characters on them. So I will meet the regional director with a cartoon character wrapped around my finger. No biggie. I am so sure he will take me seriously because I look like I'm all business. Strike one.
2) No cash. Went inside Penn Station. No Banks of America. Ok so I see one like every two minutes when I am roaming around in the city, but when I actually need one, there are none. Bite me!! So with no time to waste, I had to suck it up and go to an ATM that charged me a pretty penny to get some cash. Strike two.
3) Bathroom. Went to the hotel and had to go to the bathroom. Came out and washed my hands thinking, "hey, why are there urinals in here? so strange." Umm, cuz it is the men's bathroom!! Some guy comes in and I shrugged it off and walked out. Strike three.
Dude, my ass is so struck out even though I didn't even make it to the meeting. Or am I? The meeting went surprisingly well. The regional director even seemed pleased as he shook my hand (the one with the Pochacco Band-Aid on it). Relief!
--
Just got "It's Not About the Bike" (Lance Armstrong). As I read it on the train, I saw a whole bunch of people that wore the "Livestrong" bands. In the book, he talks about how he didn't get along with his adopted father, Terry Armstrong, and didn't consider himself an Armstrong. So why we all be wearing them? I guess it has to do with mantra.
--
I have grown a lot this summer. I used this hiatus to get back on track to figure out what kind of person I want to be and what is it that I truly want to do. NYC is such swill sometimes. And I say it in the most endearing way possible. It is a place where more begets more and sucks you up to want everything faster, better more. But I learned something this summer. I do things because I will to do them. I am not defined by things nor even what I do. I am defined by who I am and the value exists just because I am me. So all the bs melts away and I can enjoy the city once again. I do what I want to do. I hang out who I want to hang out with. I am going to do my best in everything I do because that is the person I want to be. I am at this deeper place in my life now. And I am better for it.
--
So enough of this spiel. I bumped into Robert so we will hang on thurs. Whoopee!! And I definitely am in the mood for some fro-yo. That, and of course, some cracker jacks :)
--
Trivia of the Day: What city is Lance Armstrong originally from?
(Yesterday's Answer: Jaden Gil Agassi).
goaskalice wrote this at 5:40 PM
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