Life in a Post-Apocalyptic World

I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t slightly disappointed that the Mayans got it wrong.  And I’m as horrified to write that as you are to read that - except, of course, for the 5 people who wholeheartedly agree and know that I’m lying about being horrified and are unsure what cop-out line to fall back on now that the apocalypse did not come to pass. (As a disclaimer: This piece is for entertainment value only and is not meant to cause concern or imply a need for serious medications.  I’m not sure I’d be wholly opposed to serious medication depending on what you’re offering (I kid), but my point is you shouldn’t take this post (or yourself) too seriously.  So, read at your own risk, or whatever.) To clarify, I’m not talking about those of you who went ahead and packed backpacks full of essential supplies (whatever it is you deem essential when the world has ended) to survive in post-apocalyptic America, with the zombies and lack of electricity and warring factions.  People could argue I have some depressive tendencies as of late (I prefer to call it ‘being realistic’), but you folks are batshit crazy.  I’m also not empathizing with those people who traveled to destinations where they thought they’d be spared – seriously, folks, did you read about the people traveling to small town Bugarach, France because of its doomsday appeal?  Apparently people in that town thought they’d survive the apocalypse, on a mountain top, maybe or maybe not as a result of an alien presence.  Aliens.  I’m not kidding.  So, to be clear – while I awaited December 21^st with curiosity and disturbing anticipation, I was quite certain the world would indeed go on and all I’m saying is that when my alarm went off as scheduled that morning and I looked out my window to see everything quite intact, there was a slight feeling of letdown.  I mean, at the very least there could have been a downed tree or two or perhaps a miraculous (and short-lived, since Christmas was approaching and I’m not trying to embrace the Grinch in all this) subway failure or bridge closing, so as to avoid just one trip to the office.

Just take a minute to think about the appeal, if the world ended I wouldn’t have to go through the same song and dance about expensive and bullshit new years eve plans in a week (reason enough), I wouldn’t have to worry about health insurance dictating life decisions, I wouldn’t have to plan two bachelorette parties next year, I wouldn’t have to third (fifth, seventh, ninth) wheel dinner parties any longer and most importantly, I wouldn’t have to go to my job.  All I'm saying is there was an appeal to being able to walk around the last few weeks saying “oh well I don’t have to deal with that thing or issue, because the world is going to end, la la la.”  Someone, somewhere is scoffing at my rationale with an arrogant “yeah, because you’d be dead, jackass” sort of response.  That someone isn’t wrong but it also doesn’t change anything I just said.  So, there.  Lawyered.  Someone else is awkwardly trying not to point out that if I wanted to end things, like, umm, my life, I, err, likely, could, you know, do that.  Also, not inaccurate.  Perhaps that even warrants a touché.  But, first of all, that isn’t my intention.  I’m not suicidal, I’m just bored and tragically unimpressed by life’s current state of affairs.  Also, I’m a little insulted you aren’t assuming I’d be like Katniss and would be one of the survivors.  I actually think I would be.  Let’s be honest, not only could I run circles around you, I’m way more clever than most people out there (and boy does that shit becomes more and more apparent everyday).  So I’d bet on my odds, you know, for like 3 days until my insulin ran out and then I’d be screwed. 

But the point is, after 2 or 3 or 7 (I’ve lost count and have never really been good at math) recently failed predictions of apocalyptic doom, this was the last hurrah for doomsday enthusiasts.  This was, supposedly, the big one.  The Mayans warned our sorry asses about December 21, 2012 centuries ago.  Although, I have to admit that the hysteria before Y2K and even last year with the rapture actually seemed more impressive than the lead-up to 12-21-12.  In fact, I couldn’t help but be disappointed with the lack of extremists on the streets of New York preaching about coming to Jesus before the end or alerting us of our imminent demise.  But nonetheless, this one was prophesized, it wasn’t some fanatic preaching from a mountain top, this was an entire civilization throwing up their hands and saying "sorry gang the calendar ends, so, enjoy it while you can." 

Of course, that’s actually not what they said at all.  The truth about the date's significance is fascinating really.  The Mayans indeed acknowledge December 21, 2012 as the end of their calendar, but it seems they did not interpret that to mean the end of the world (leave the panic to the white people).  The prophecy of Tortuguero was misinterpreted and while it indeed predicted the end of a cycle in time which would take place in 2012, the end of a cycle of days is not equivalent to the end of all days.   In fact, Guatemala and Mexico (and other areas where the Mayan culture lives on, I'm too lazy to list them) were preparing for the start of a new era, the start of new days, not the end of days.  They planned to welcome in this new calendar with celebration, as the start of something fresh, a new beginning – yes, but not necessarily one resurrected from the ashes, full of zombies and militia.  (Yes, yes, I’ve clearly gotten my apparent views on what this post-apocalyptic world would look like solely from AMC and NBC.)  Not the promise of destruction, instead the promise of something new.  I could certainly get on board with the idea of welcoming in a new era.  Indeed, leaving 2012 and the years that came before not just in the past, but in an entirely other cycle of life, doesn’t sound too bad to me.  In fact, it sounds refreshing and therapeutic.  (Oh that - that was just some bad call in another era of time.  Can't worry about that anymore.  Thank you Mayan calendar.)  They prepared for parties to celebrate this rebirth, so to speak, not to drink themselves to an oblivion in preparation for impending doom (though, to be fair I imagine the hangovers were about the same).  Call it a spiritual awakening.  A more dramatic version of new years resolutions.  I kind of like the idea of ushering in a new era and preparing for change.  Maybe after years of bad luck and unwarranted hits from karma, the planets will shift and the stars will realign and life will go on exactly as it was, except for oh-so-differently.  I'm down with that. 

Of course, in some ways it could be argued that the world has in fact already ended.  Perhaps we’re living in the aftermath of civilization and didn’t even notice the transition.  Let’s recount the last few months, the tri-state area is still recovering (and will be for quite awhile) from the latest natural disaster to hit the east coast; senseless mass killings have been taking place across the country without any hope for comprehension, and no promise of justice, igniting people across the states in a heated debate about gun control (I will not engage, I will not engage); Europe is in crisis and unrest is growing throughout the world; Bloomberg essentially acknowledged global warming was a "thing" as we went from a hurricane to a nor'easter and then back to 60 degrees within 2 weeks and even the naysayers are starting to have a hard time disagreeing; and I heard at least two of my uber republican friends praise Obama in the last week (if that’s not proof of the world ending, I'm not really sure what else you're looking for). But, at least on the surface, we seem to have escaped a fiery demise - or however exactly it was people expected this thing to go down.  So, here’s to moving forward in this new era, in this post-apocalyptic world that didn’t exactly come to be.  Let’s still use this as a reason to leave the bad behind, to cleanse, to restart and let's see what this next cycle has in store for all of us.

But, as one last ditch effort to hold on to my pre-Deceber 21st views of what may lay head, in addition to the more dramatic things I'd like to leave in this former era, here is a list of 5 random things I hope don't survive this new post-apocalyptic world.

1. The word "epic."  I mean we tried to leave this back in 2010 but there are some really persistent followers that keep trying to make this come back (stop trying to make fetch happen, it's not going to happen). 
2. Call Me Maybe.  (Damn you Carly Rae and your catchy lyrics.  I long for the day when I can say the phrase “this is crazy” without immediately following it up with “but here’s my number, so call me maybe.”)  Gangnam Style.  (I think my hate for this song culminated when my remote control got stuck on the today show - okay, it didn’t get stuck, I’m sure I voluntarily subjected myself to that program and then later complained about how irritating it was - and I was forced to watch someone's Griswold style abundance of Christmas lights dance to this 'anthem' in the aftermath of Sandy, while most people I knew were without power.)  And Taylor Swift, in general. Just shhh, stay behind Taylor, stay behind.
3. Times Square. Look, I never claimed my wish list was realistic but I sure as shit would not miss Times Square if the world were to disappear. Honestly, I'm not sure what horrific war crime I committed in a past life to be subjected to that area each day after leaving my nightmare of a job, but I imagine in my next life, walking through times square will be punishment for stabbing a tourist in the face.
4. AIM.  Like really, how is this still a thing?  I recognize for 9/10 of the world it is something they vaguely remember from college or high school and they’re not sure they even remember their password, but I keep signing my ass on everyday to appease my 3 friends who have not yet managed to embrace Gchat.  What's that? I could just not sit on my computer at work and chat with people all day long? Stop it.
5. The Kardashians.  Who cares.  Seriously, why do you people still watch their shows and give a shit about their many, many failed relationships and idiotic shenanigans.  I’ll admit I tuned in, on occasion, to one of the early seasons to see what the fuss was about and couldn’t help but be amused by their antics and absurd drama...but enough already.  Kim’s multi-million dollar wedding special (and immediate divorce) represented all that is wrong with America and let’s be honest, if any foreigner wanted to prove that Americans are dumb, they’d merely have to point out how many years these people have been gracing our television screens and rolling around in piles of money they earned simply by being reality stars, I imagine we’d have a hard time arguing their logic.

The Lies I Learned in Law School...and other unhappy endings.

 Oh nooo not another post about the mistakes associated with being a lawyer - is that what you're thinking? I bet it is. I'd be thinking it too.  Well I promise to curb future posts about the legal profession, mostly because I'm saving it up for the scathing tell-all I'll write someday, but I had some unfinished business to attend to after http://redorwhiteandlifesotherdilemmas.blogspot.com/2011/09/just-sit-there-and-look-pretty-case.html and I somehow waited this long to spew it all over you. Mostly because I forgot to hit publish back in September.  It's just been sitting in the wings, waiting patiently for its debut. (So, on that note, this was written months ago for those who may or may not be aware of current contemplations). I'm going to write a book, call it the "Lies I Learned in Law School "and set up lemonade type stands outside Kaplan LSAT review courses to sell it. I might even sell crystal light, circa the good ol' lemonade stand days, for good measure and you know, as sort of a consolation prize.   What's that?  You sold real homemade lemonade - well la di da, good for you.  As a follow-up to http://redorwhiteandlifesotherdilemmas.blogspot.com/2011/09/just-sit-there-and-look-pretty-case.html and a continued public service announcement against attending law school, I would consider myself a failure if I didn't warn you about the rest of the doom and dread associated with following your life's "dream." 

It isn’t just that I wasted my good years sitting in lecture halls and libraries as I pushed my way through law school. Although I did waste my good years sitting in lecture halls and libraries as I pushed my way through law school. It’s that once you graduate with that diploma you worked oh-so-hard to achieve, you now have to do something remarkable with it. And the harder you worked, the better you did, the harder you will have to continue working, because the better you can do. In America, remarkable and better generally means prestigious. Prestigious (with some obvious noble exceptions) generally means money. And money means working your life away, at least for a few years, while you strive to achieve whatever is next. Of course, at that point you can’t even remember what you sought out to achieve in the first place. And, it’s not just the prestige and related cultural exceptions - as if that wouldn’t be enough outside pressure - it’s the cost of that higher education in the first place. The oh-so-hilarious thing about being a lawyer is there are some who make the big bucks, so to speak - the ones who follow the route (the perfectly landscaped yellow brick road) we're all told we're supposed to want to follow and make the salaries that make other people's heads spin. And then there is the vast majority who make less (or at most the same amount) as those who never attended law school in the first place. But regardless of your destination after school, you HAVE to pay an institution hundreds of thousands of dollars to get an education that will allow you to make a salary that won't allow you to pay back the cost of said education in the first place. Yes, that seems reasonable. And so, alas, many people who swore they'd never walk the golden hallways of a corporate law firm, find themselves working for the "man" out of necessity. As they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. 

Many make ambitious promises to pay off their loans in 5 years and then swear they will do what they want to do. But, 5 years come and go and there is barely a dent in those loans. It’s all fine and good to walk into your first law school course with some intention to “do good”, to help people, to make a difference, or to simply do something you care about (tell me more about these things). However, as my father so astutely observed (after I was three years out of law school and my decisions, despite my best efforts, could not be reversed – honestly, how have we not invented a time machine yet?) while not always the case, it sure seems that people who like their jobs don’t make money and people who make money don’t like their jobs. And here I’d been so caught up in just accepting that women can’t really, truly have it all (in terms of career and family – that’s another post), now I’m discovering no one can have it all (in terms of happiness and money). Seems like we all got a pretty raw deal here. Suicidal yet? And, the problem is (one of the problems is) saying we don’t need to make a lot of money or being content with what we have is only half the battle, when a graduate degree leaves you so far in a hole you can barely scrape your way back to the surface. It's a decision that will continue to follow you around, one you can't even escape by filing bankruptcy (true story). And say you've simply had enough and are willing to make less to "be happy", there is the notion of taking a pay cut and then there is being irresponsible. Most pay cuts in this field average close to six figures. Ahh, now you see why this isn't such an easy decision. My monthly loan payments cost more than most people’s monthly rent payment (regardless of neighborhood), and then, of course, I still have to pay rent – a sum which in NYC is barely affordable as is. And even if you manage to pay those momentus sums back, and get to a break even point (don't even raise your hand and ask me about savings), you're faced with the concept of living paycheck to paycheck - after working so hard to get to a point where you wouldn't have to do just that. 

In discussing the phenomenon of money and happiness, there are plenty of people who will tell you that money can’t buy happiness. Well, of course it can’t. That’s an absurd statement. Please don’t insult me by ever saying that to me again. Ever. (Not that I haven't searched it on Ebay - a search that resulted in a ridiculous number of self-help books. Seriously, the number of self-help books on 'how to be happy' make sme think I could just write a whole lot of nonsense, slap the phrase 'get happy' on the front, get that shit published and have a pretty simple solution to this whole blog post actually.) But it can buy a lot of other things, which let’s face it - is a pretty big deal. Sometimes when I’m feeling dramatic I remind people that I’d rather be unhappy and rich (not that I’m rich, that was for effect), than unhappy and poor. Because, taking a pay cut and making less money does not automatically mean someone will be happy and it is no secret that lack of money causes a lot of stress and unhappiness. After a bad day, a trip to a wine bar with a friend makes me happy and that costs money. The prospect of vacations is expensive but results in happiness. Online shopping when I’m stuck at the office makes me very happy. And, the list goes on. 

A lot of my friends (in attempting to be helpful) who do love (or at least like, or you know what - lets start small – who don’t cry on a daily basis or fight back nausea while actually sitting at their desks) think it is well worth it to make less money and encourage their friends to make a similar move. However, in most of these cases, the friends who make these heartfelt proclamations don’t have the same money issues. While I understand they are trying to help, it is somewhat frustrating when you are a speaking to a dual-income individual while trying to survive on your sad, single salary or to someone who is debt-free while you’re juggling 6 or more student loans. If you have a boyfriend, fiancé, or husband who makes good money (or just makes any money - the idea of having two incomes and splitting bills makes me salivate), your salary becomes less important, or if your parents paid for your graduate degree or set up a trust fund (its amazing how many people I know now with such a privileged upbringing), we are just not on the same playing field. While I certainly don’t begrudge you for somehow managing to have it all (contrary to my earlier conclusion that such a thing was impossible), I’m paying all my bills, plus my loans and feel as though I am barely getting by and the idea of leaping into something new with a much lower salary at this age seems fairly stupid (and even if I don't think it seems that stupid, there are plenty of people who have assured me it is). And, while I will continue to yell at my parents for not setting up a trust fund and encouraging me to be an overachiever (reasonable conversations that they fortunately don’t bother to entertain) the fact is that they didn’t and I was and so here we are, trapped in high-rise prisons we put ourselves in.

There was a time (not that long ago, although it feels like a different lifetime) when I had life goals and aspirations that went beyond a salary, but that was before factoring in the cost of my stupid education (as alluded to above) and now those dreams just seem like dim memories. Plus, money is a demanding mistress. It is one of those things that you might not need that much of before you're introduced to her seductive ways, but once you have it, you can't imagine how you would live without it. The so-called golden handcuffs. And I'm not discussing the concept of giving up a lavish life of luxury, but we do have certain comforts, certain expectations, certain securities and things we take for granted and try as I may to crunch my budget, I cannot fathom how people can possibly survive on so far less than my salary.  Money can be paralyzing. And those of us who grew up as part of the infamous middle class seem to have more of a struggle with our salaries in some ways (than those who grew up "privileged."). We're both blessed and cursed by our relationship with the dollar. In one way, not growing up with this kind of money makes it harder to achieve it and then walk away from it, because it is something we never took, will never take, for granted, but it also means we know that we don't need these salaries to survive, to be happy. Split personalities are fun. 

But, its not just the money. It's really not. I'd love to chalk it up to just being that shallow and materialistic and suggest I need designer clothes (I'm relatively clueless about fashion) or cleaning my apartment myself would kill me (yes, you're inferring correctly, most of my friends have a cleaning lady and I too used to take this luxury for granted before I gave up the doorman for a 3rd floor walk-up in anticipation of my fall from grace) but thats not it. Liking nice things and getting used to a way of life is certainly part of it, but it is a part that I really wouldn't have all that much trouble giving up. The bigger issue is that I worked so, so hard to get where I am and then decided I didn't want to be here. So, now what? The idea of walking away from something you spent so much of your life and energy striving for is not an easy pill to swallow. Plus, since I've been wrong about so many things, I don't trust my own opinions. I am paralyzed by the fear that I will simply hate anything I do and then I'll have walked away from a paycheck only to learn it wasn't you law firm, it was me. Gretchen Rubin (in "The Happiness Project") also quotes novelist Lisa Grunwald who said ‘best is good, but better is best”, the idea of taking a voluntary pay cut goes against our very notions of success, of what we’re told should result in happiness. Indeed, it will lead to views of failure even if you leave to pursue something you care about, you're excited about, even if you leave for a respectable job, for one that may ultimately make you happy. The fact is once you’ve crossed the line (by wasting your good years, recall) and joined us on the dark side, it is hard to go back. If for no other reason (and piggybacking on the sentiment of my earlier post - at least now if we find ourselves alone we (and our friends and family) can point to this career, the hours, the job, as being to blame (it makes your friends and family a lot more comfortable when they can point to something like that), and, more importantly, at least now we have the means to support ourselves, there is somewhat of a comfort (except for the 212 days of the year where you are terrified of being laid off and the weekly waves of nausea that accompany a potential mistake) that you will be able to continue to pay the bills. And, of course, the recurring vision of me in my 40's discussing my previous life as a shmancy attorney at a haughty taughty manhattan law firm while now cleaning bathrooms or filing papers in an office building or walking a dog (for the record I have stolen those future career choices from other current attorneys, to illustrate my point) just seems crazy. To peak in salary and conventional notions of success by age 30 is downright depressing. I'd argue it is not better to have had and lost than to never have had at all. (I understand the actual expression is "it is better to have loved and lost"...but there was never love here to lose). 

And, once you've been working within these walls for a few years you lose sight of any reasonable ambition. While 2 years ago I may have been able to articulate alternative options to pursue, at this point I'm so beaten down, so burned out, so abused, that I've skipped right over that step, and well probably right over the next 4 steps as well. So, now I find myself walking by a starbucks with a help wanted sign and walking in (I'd make a damn good barista), or passing a McDonalds and being envious of the employees. I daydream about absurd alternatives. Recently I strongly considered moving to Peru and raising alpacas (check my internet searches if you want proof). I've figured out how little you can live on in the Far East and in South America and have started packing my bags. I've asked friends with new children if they're looking for a nanny. Not only do none of these things require a JD, they don't require a college degree, or really even a high school diploma. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. 

Plus, the sadder reality is that in this post-recession wasteland, even if you are fully willing to work for hugs - and quite honestly, I could use a job that pays me in hugs after the last few years of mistreatment and abuse - those jobs are hard to find and harder still to land. Of all the things in the world that don't make sense, there is a "problem" of being overqualified that is truly quite maddening. So it turns out you are overqualified for some things and yet not even close to qualified for most others, and so this feeling of being trapped starts to break you down into a position of submissive, subordinate slave as you try to sell your JD on Ebay. (I've seen craigslist ads, I did not make this up).

I hear virtual strangers discussing their plans for law school and I yell "Don't do it!" I don't even have to be part of the conversation to chime in with this unsolicited advice. I leap over subway turnstiles to knock applications out of some poor, unassuming fool's hands. (Of course I don't actually do that, mostly because people apply online, but I also recognize such an act would be illegal.  Though in that case, what's the worst that could happen? I'd get disbarred?...and then I couldn't be a lawyer anymore? Shame.) I consider it my duty, perhaps my new life calling, to inform people of the error of their ways, the way I wish people had warned me (I'm certain people warned me, attorneys are a stubborn breed). It is fairly common knowledge that attorneys abuse drugs and alcohol more than almost any other profession (although pilots notably are pretty high on the list too, so keep that in mind next time you're gearing up for a long flight) and depression runs rampant in the profession, and yet every year more and more people take the LSATs, every year more and more people go to law school, every year more and more people join our ranks and only then do they realize (first that there are no jobs to be had and then) this wasn't what they signed up for. Propaganda at its finest. So this is my attempt at being a good samaritan, to save you from making a potentially devastating decision, I'm selfless like that. And, I require nothing in return....unless, of course, you'd like to send me a tip which I can apply to my mountain of law school loans. You know, pay it forward, folks.

Here's to New York

I am so overdue for a blog post, that many of you (at least 2 of the 5 people who read this) probably thought something had gone terribly wrong (in which case, thanks for checking in…).  The truth is, the summer and early fall were filled with so many trips and activities, I was a bit MIA, but I did manage to write a post or two and then somehow neglected to post them.  My apologies.  However, in light of the recent devastation to hit New York and New Jersey, I will hold off on publishing a sarcastic rant complaining about first world problems for just a bit longer.  Instead, I’d like to do something uncharacteristic and dedicate this piece to the people of New York (and New Jersey, but adding these parens each time is going to get real old, real quick). 

When the meteorologists started predicting the super storm slated to hit the northeast, I did not take them seriously.  I, like many New Yorkers, remembered the hype of Irene where we were mercifully spared from any real damage.  As a result, it was difficult not to underestimate the predictions.  Nonetheless, I obediently went to the grocery store to stock up on non-perishables, water and batteries.  I hunkered down, as directed, and planned to wait out the storm.  By the early hours of the evening, I started to get scared.  The wind gusts were punishing and the news reports started showing images of coastal towns that were already feeling the impact of this storm (which had since been downgraded from a hurricane, giving people –or at least me - a false sense of comfort).  As the trees outside my window started beating against the glass, I took additional precautions.  I moved couch cushions to my bedroom and set them up beside my bed in the hopes that the bed would block any blown in window shards from hitting me directly.  At this point, naturally, I was convinced that I would be impaled by broken glass by morning, as I had simply never heard wind like that before.  In Manhattan, my friends were losing power one by one.  NYC had not lost power since the blackout of 2003.  This seemed serious.  When I woke the next day, I realized my lights were still on.  I had escaped the storm’s wrath completely unscathed (though likely 5 pounds heavier as a result of all the wine and hurricane snacks I managed to devour while I prepared for impending doom).  Outside, the sun appeared to be shining.  Perhaps this storm was not that bad after all.  Only then did I turn on the television. 

I can’t fully describe my reaction to the images on the news.  The images that only increased in number and devastation over the next few days.  And I can’t do justice do those images in writing.  Entire towns were destroyed.  People were displaced from their homes with nowhere to go.  Breezy Point had burned to the ground.  Staten Island looked like a war zone.  The Rockaways were unrecognizable.  Long Beach and Hoboken were literally under water.  And the death toll began to grow and grow.  And that is saying nothing of the millions of people without power.  Many of whom are still without power, as the nights are getting colder and another storm, supposedly, is approaching. 

In the days after Sandy, the city was devastated.  There was flooding and collapsed trees and debris everywhere.  New York City, the center of the universe, was virtually shut down.  The transit tunnels were full of water and trains and subways could not be quickly restored.  Buildings were flooded and businesses could not function.  People were walking miles to work or spending hours commuting on the limited bus options.  With power out downtown, the images looked like something out of a movie.  (I am told “I Am Legend” is the movie you're thinking of.  I haven't seen it, but I'll take everyone's word for that.).  Driving down Broadway with no traffic lights, no people, and very few cars was creepy and surreal.  And, without doubt, we were the lucky ones to be driving down Broadway on our way to our homes. 

But, it’s not a hurricane and its destruction that I want to express in this post.  We’ve all seen the news and the images displayed do a far better job illustrating the realities of this aftermath than I could ever hope to do.  Instead, it is the reactions of the people of New York (and New Jersey) that deserve note.  Say what you will about New York City, but the people who live here are truly a remarkable and inspiring breed.  And, I have never been as proud to be a New Yorker as I am right now.

Within hours of the storms exit, friends and families opened up their homes to those who had lost electricity and running water.  It felt like Brooklyn had become a refugee camp for Manhattanites below 39^th street.  So together we all watched the continued destruction unfold.  NY1 felt like a 24 hour movie, every time I turned on the television I watched another tragic story about a family who was dealing with the loss of a house, or worse, the loss of a loved one, as a result of Sandy.  To see this level of devastation just miles away was beyond humbling.  I felt so fortunate to be safe and warm, surrounded by friends and my property and possessions, all unharmed.   Each day I learned of another friend who had lost something, most things, or everything.  Offers of "anything I can do" felt so trivial.  I wanted to help, but felt so helpless.  And as people struggled to put their lives back together, together New Yorkers came out to help. People started putting their own issues aside.  They made the long commutes to work without much complaint, acknowledging they had little to whine about in light of what had happened all around them.  They asked only what they could do to help others.  It’s amazing what a little perspective can do. 

Over the next few days, volunteer opportunities started popping up all over social media and the internet.  My friends and I signed up for countless lists and sent many requests for information.  People started going through their closets and donating anything they could.   New Yorkers dropped bags and bags and bags of donated items at donation centers all over the five boroughs.  When I showed up somewhere with my second bag of sweaters, I was told clothes were actually not a priority at this point because they had received so much.  Imagine that; within 24 hours, the need for clothes was minimal because so many New Yorkers had already stepped up.  People then went to stores and picked up specific items requested by those in need.  Cases of water, medicine, personal hygiene products, and food, among others, started lining the walls of the drop-off stations.  Over the weekend, people went from shelter to shelter and clean-up initiative to clean-up initiative, asking for ways in which they could help.  People showed up willing to be assigned to do just about anything, just desperate for the chance to do something.  The response was so overwhelming that people were actually turned away.  I spent a few hours at a shelter before realizing there were simply too many volunteers to be useful.  I went to donation sights and helped in any way I could (however small) and attempted to get rides to the hardest hit areas (as part of an organized volunteer movement, not simply hitchhiking, although the end result was probably not that different).   My experience was the same as my friends.  Too many people today.  But thank you and bless you and please come back tomorrow.  (Of course, some of those hardest hit areas are also the hardest to access by public transportation and as a result were still in desperate need for assistance but until the gas crisis was resolved, it would be harder to get to them.  Oh, did I forget to mention the gas crisis?).  In the process, I met so many inspiring and selfless people all trying to do the right thing.  To watch and experience this reaction to such a heartbreaking situation was incredible.  Perhaps it was something like survivor guilt, perhaps it was genuine selflessness, likely it was a combination of many things, but whatever it was, people showed up ready to roll up their sleeves and help those who had been less fortunate during the storm.  And as the days pass, the relief efforts only increase.  I continue to receive emails each day with new opportunities and look forward to joining my neighbors and trying again and again until this area is returned to where it needs to be. 

One important thing to take away from any crisis is the response that follows.  In New York, the response was overwhelmingly positive.  I was blown away by the lengths people went to try and make a difference.  I am impressed and amazed and so very inspired by my many friends who found their way to the Rockaways and Staten Island and helped clean basements, organized donations or gave blankets to people who were cold.  The sheer generosity of NYC residents gives me pause.  I am grateful to witness such goodness around me.  In the aftermath of a natural disaster, New York powered through and it powered through together (yes, even without power.  too lame?).  In the wake of a tragedy, the thousands of volunteers carried the same message of hope, the same promise to rebuild, the same determination and pride and genuine compassion that I am not sure exists everywhere else, or even anywhere else.  It is a true testament to the people in this city, in this state, in the whole tri-state area, really.  The relief efforts, so strong in the face of despair and devastation, restore my faith in humanity and make me so proud to be part of this great city.  Here’s to you New York, because today I am truly honored to call myself a New Yorker.  Thank you.

Just another tween phenomenon that makes me want to homeschool my future children...

Yesterday I posted about Barbie and her wedding planning website and the negative effects the message of that website could instill in young girls of today. (Among other grievances). That sentiment seems to represent a bit of a kick I'm on as just prior to going off on that rant, I had received an email ad that seemed rather uncool (to put it mildly) and I had immediately forwarded it to a few friends to ask if I was missing something and confirm my sanity. I write again today (albeit briefly, I promise), because this morning I woke up to a text from my friend alerting me to the fact that Good Morning America was about to do a segment on this very email ad. So, (a) 2 points for me for spotting controversy and (b) I was happy to see I was not alone in my reaction.

The advertisement was placed by Uni K Wax. And, I hate to speak negatively about this company as I've been a loyal customer for years (and will recommend their services to anyone who asks), but as they stand by their advertisement, I imagine they'd have no problem with the 7 of you who read this blog hearing about it as well. The ad featured a young girl (we'll call her a preteen for lack of a more specific guess) jumping for joy (essentially) and declaring her independence. I'm not entirely sure what she was declaring independence from (hair?) but it was touted as a sort of Fourth of July special. The ad then offered 50% off waxing services to girls 15 and under. It was limited to first time patrons and seemed to be intended to entice this young demographic to try waxing.

(You may also note my new obsession with uploading screen shots.  But, I mean, come on, look at that, aren't you a little bit disturbed?)

Naturally, my immediate reaction was horror. And because sometimes I'm a bit of a conspiracy theorist, my first thought was: "Is Uni K running a child porn ring? Why else would they be trying to lure young children into their premises and pouring hot wax on them? This just seems wrong on so many levels." Of course, I'll admit my initial reaction was focused mostly on the concept of a bikini wax (which was aided by the fact that the 12 year old girl in the ad was jumping for said joy in a bikini) but I recognize that the ad did not require children to remove their clothing and the offer also could apply to a girl who wanted her eyebrows or mustache waxed and I suppose most child pornographies are not casted with fully clothed children sporting unibrows. But, the ad did not limit its services, and indeed when asked for comment on the Good Morning America piece, bikini wax was a viable option for these young girls. In fact, the (12 year old) girl featured on ABC went in for a bikini wax. Plus, you'll have to forgive my ignorance of this whole tween waxing culture in the first place. Apparently it is somewhat commonplace and accepted. Well color me stupid, but it seems like it should be the exception not the rule. But, whatever. Then again, as a blondie, I recognize my body hair woes were minor and when I started shaving it was - without permission - and only because everyone else was doing it (I never claimed to be above peer pressure).

The initial horror was quickly followed by better-placed bewilderment as I tried to understand why any corporation would think targeting young girls in this manner was a good business model. I mean, even if you think it is perfectly appropriate to rip hair from preteens (I'd argue its barely appropriate practice for adults, but we suffer through because pain is beauty. Guys have it so freakin easy.) why limit the promotion to young girls? Why construct a special that will likely result in debate? And, if it seemed a bit controversial to me - a 30 year old without children, I was sure there was an entire camp of outraged parents. (There was. That's what ABC investigated). Bottom line, don't draw attention to a somewhat questionable practice (stupid).  If Uni K had offered a general 50% off ad applicable to ages 12 and up, it would not have received the same attention even though 12 is younger than the 15 advertised (See, I'm good at Math after all). To limit the ad to young girls is what I think is the actual problem here. It isn't just that it encourages children to think that they should be removing this hair in the first place - and in an already superficial society, why do we need to teach these sorts of lessons on vanity? - but it gives you a sort of bonus for getting to it early.

Now, granted, even though Uni K offers this service to minors, a parent must consent to the procedure if the child is under 17.  Please add this to the list of reasons to get the hell out of dodge (i.e. NYC) if I ever have children.  These mothers are signing off on 12 year old children getting bikini waxes for summer camp?! You have got to be kidding me. And, side note, thank god I'm not a 13 year old girl in 2012.  But again, as I continue to drift from my point, it is really the emphasis on tween waxing in the ad that I found so cringe-worthy.  The ad felt very reminiscent of 'a guy in a white van in a parking lot with candy' because of its picture and age cut-off rather than age minimum. The statement Uni K provided to ABC was "By the age of 11 or 12, some young girls develop hair on their legs and upper lip. This can not only be embarrassing, but it often makes these young girls targets for bullying at school, especially during PE and recess...Uni K Wax is offering a safe solution in a comfortable environment for these girls.”  While I suspect that is all true and god knows kids can be cruel, why can't they shave their legs like we did (in the good old days) or even better - do they still make Nair? Let kids asphyxiate on the sweet smell of whatever the hell that chemical is that allows a product to essentially burn away unwanted hair on your leg without leaving a trace....plus as I recall the ads claimed it lasts longer than shaving(!) though I suppose not as long as waxing, so...alright then, never mind. As for the mustache, I imagine that could be quite a source of bullying, but it is up to a parent to determine the best way to handle that situation and if their child is being bullied I doubt this extra 50% push from the waxing industry is going to be what saves the day. What I'm saying is perhaps waxing is the best answer sometimes, but I imagine, in those cases, a 50% promotion is not going to make or break the decision and certainly not a 50% promotion that caps out at 15.  I can empathize and by all means go get a wax (I suppose) but targeting tweens seems unnecessary and feels just a little dirty.

I'm not saying anything that hasn't already been said on this subject in the 24 hours since the ad was released (I'm just saying it better.  jokes), but I figured I'd take a moment to do a sort of public service announcement on yet another subject that makes my skin crawl a little. By all means, feel free to draw your own conclusions - http://abcnews.go.com/blogs/lifestyle/2012/07/waxing-for-girls-younger-than-15-ad-sparks-parenting-debate/

Bridal Barbie (...and what's wrong with America)

The other day my friend sent me a link to a Barbie game. Yes, my friend was an adult. And no, we don't still play with Barbies. She discovered the website after finding her 6 year old niece playing the game on her computer.  To her credit, she immediately asked her if they could play something else.  Based on my reaction to the link she supplied, it is very clear why she and I are friends.   I suspect most of you are going to think this is an entirely unnecessary rant, where, as usual, I’m overreacting.  So, are you intrigued yet? I bet you’re assuming I’m stepping onto my soapbox and bitching about body image and somehow linking this to that that crazy woman who actually tried to turn herself into a real life Barbie... Oh the things I would rather spend $800,000 on) and I bet you’re preparing yourself for an uneducated analysis of the extent to which that sort of behavior and those sort of images damage not just her but any young girl who reads about her endeavors.   Well, I could certainly write a separate post on that (and perhaps someday when it is no longer even remotely relevant – since that’s how I tend to do things – I will write that post but the level of that insanity has been digested to death and frankly I don’t care enough) so my focus today is a bit different.

So, here it is - the game was an online Barbie bridal/wedding planner sort of thing. The official title was something along the lines of a super wedding stylist.  I have the link open on my computer and could easily confirm the actual title, but it’s really not the point and I’m actually THAT lazy.  You too can be a beautiful bride, is the gist of the message, and the "game" allows a child to design her wedding accessories. The game, in my humble opinion, presents a fairly interesting example of one of the many things wrong with this country. And here's why. Step 1 of the game asks the player (as I’ve stated, in this case a 6 year old child, though I'm assuming the oldest female playing an online Barbie game caps out at about 9 or 10.  I can't clearly recall when I lost my appreciation for the Barbie culture- but in any event the player is a young girl [or boy, I'm not intending to limit this to gender roles though that also leads to a different post]) to design your ring, your dress and your cake. 

The dress and the cake I’m not quite as offended by.  Young girls have been playing “make believe wedding” for decades, centuries even (I don’t have time to research and discover a start date for this behavior) and such playtime included a white dress and a veil (and in my dress-up bin, some fake pearls, white gloves – yeah, we were high class in Hurley, and if I recall correctly a weirdly long strand of white lace that I assume at one point belonged to something not intended for the dress-up bin), as the obvious necessities of any good make believe wedding.  So I would be amiss to suggest this online bride design station was instilling some new sort of wedding dress voodoo in the children of today. 

The cake I can’t really complain about either because, really, who doesn’t like cake?  And more so, who doesn’t like pretty cakes?  And, if I supported making a plate of fudgey, gooey, half cooked goodness in your E-Z Bake oven as an acceptable childhood activity akin to being a ‘chef’ or rather ‘baker’, I don’t see the real harm in designing a picture perfect delicacy for your fake wedding.  Plus, the cake part retains a certain level of childhood innocence and Disney princess (if you will) inspiration when selecting your options.  For example, in my “research” for this piece, I designed a delightful, three-tiered, heart-shaped, pink cake bedazzled with jewels and rhinestones.  Yum.  You’ll note, this looks to be remarkably in line with something a 5 year old should design and not a 30-something (though to be fair, in this case, the idea of a planning a wedding requires the same level of make believe fantasy…again, I digress). 

Musings of a 30-year old. On what I've learned...

The big 3-0 really lends itself to self-reflection and so in an effort to distract myself from the impending doom of old age and the onset of 30-something depression, I decided to take a moment and think about some of the things I've learned.  I intended to come up with a solid 'top 10' and ended up with 45. Even I recognize that 45 might be too many, so it’s 30 for 30 folks (and this means despite what I would tell you on a normal day – apparently I have learned a lot.  Implementing life lessons is an entirely different discussion, of course.)  You may disagree with half of them (in fact, you probably should), but they are a series of facts (some that are somewhat deep and some that are painfully stupid) I've acknowledged at this point...as they apply to me.  Because a clean and straightforward list really isn't my style, I've naturally expanded on the "lessons" with the sort of running commentary of which I'm so fond.  Fear not, I'm not trying to compete with, or copy, the glamour list that's been making the rounds again - I mean let's be honest, I probably hate that list.

1.     There are very few things that a glass of red wine can't cure.  There are less things that 2-3 glasses can't cure.  

2.     I will never regret waking up early to go to the gym...but recognizing that will not stop me from hitting snooze 10 times tomorrow.

3.     It's okay to make mistakes.   And I will make plenty of them.  I already have.  This isn’t to say I will stop beating myself up over every detail of every wrong decision, missed opportunity or careless (or not so careless) error, but to err is human as they say.  I am not dismissing culpability and accountability in this dialogue, but acknowledging errors has never been my problem and at this stage I’m finally learning I need to give myself a break.

4.     Money can't buy happiness.  Not that I've been blessed with riches, but that much I've learned.  It can be a good place filler for a while and it can buy a lot of other things and provide a “comfortable lifestyle” that sometimes result in temporary feelings of happiness  (and god knows it I've tried retail therapy enough to know) but it turns out what they say is true – the real treasures in life have nothing to do with gold.

5.     Laughter truly is the best medicine.  After a bad day (week, month, year) laughing with a good friend is often the only thing that will really improve your mood.  It is often said that you have to be able to laugh at yourself.  I can and do often.   But, it is more fun, and probably healthier, when you laugh at yourself (and generally other people and things) with a hilarious friend.  At the end of a good jam session of laughter with one of your besties (this will be the only time I use the phrase bestie in a non-ironic sense, so embrace it), you generally can't even remember what you were down about in the first place.  If you can’t relate, you should probably make new friends.

6.     The grass is rarely greener on the other side, but knowing that won't stop you from wanting it.  I want it - whatever it is - SO bad.

7.     When you look better, you feel better.  This isn't to say I follow this mantra most days because the idea of waking up even 15 minutes earlier to do my hair or apply makeup seems like a real burden. But, I have to admit that on the days I manage to summon the energy to throw on some mascara and wear a cute outfit with heels, I feel a lot better than the days (most days) when I half-straighten my hair and leave my apartment in a probably somewhat frumpy (albeit comfortable) ensemble.

  7(a) Glasses are a great alternative to putting on eye makeup.  So invest in a stylish pair of frames immediately.

8.     Dancing in front of the mirror is still the fastest way to shake a funk.  And yes, shake was a deliberate choice of word.  Raise your hand if you thought of me during that episode of “Girls”.  Oh, just one person? Fine, whatever.

9.     It's crazy to pretend you're not crazy.  By this I'm referring to the crazy girl syndrome, if you are indeed a crazy person it's actually quite understandable to feign sanity, though I assume that isn't in your best interests long-term.  What I'm saying is -if you're a girl someone will blame ‘crazy’ for at least one of your reactions.  Just accept it and move on.  It doesn't matter if you actually are or not, people will jump to that conclusion anyway, and misinterpret what you say or don't say.  You are emotional and dramatic and you probably overreacted despite the merits of your argument.  So don’t waste your time trying to disprove this gender role by putting yourself through a situation you would prefer to avoid in order to keep up appearances.  The good news is because this is such a deep-rooted and accepted cultural notion, you will generally be forgiven for your "irrationality."  So, stop worrying about how you look or how certain words or actions will be perceived and just roll with it, if you don't you will actually drive yourself crazy trying to convince people otherwise. We've all suffered through an awkward or downright painful situation because we didn't want to "appear" like a crazy girl who cared...and to be fair I probably didn't care that much...most of the time.  Then I grew up and realized "Girl, that shit is crazy!" (and let's be honest, you're probably not fooling anyone).  I now refuse to put myself in potentially uncomfortable situations and I assure you I'm doing everyone a favor by folding my cards.

10.  There are certain things that people say - even in the professional setting (like the phrase v-card) - that will make me chuckle like I'm 12, no matter how old I get.  I bet you’re now thinking of a few other examples of your own.

11.  A phone call is better than an e-mail.  An email is better than a text.  A text is better than facebook. Facebook is the devil.  Rinse and repeat.

12.  It's okay to be selfish.  Just don't be a douche.  The truth is you have to be selfish, it can be a cruel, cruel world out there and ain't nobody going to put you first if you don't (snap snap snap). I've had (we’ve all had) things taken from me by someone selfish enough to get what they wanted because I hesitated or tried to take the virtuous path.  The fine line exists between those people who did that to me whom I will never forgive for their treachery and for those situations for which I will never forgive myself for bowing out.  I've also suffered through plenty a thing that I should have just selfishly avoided in the first place.  Sometimes it’s hard to balance the desire to not hurt someone's feelings with the desire to not want to jump off a bridge when faced with a given situation.  So I've learned that at the end of the day (Worst. Expression. Ever.) you have to be selfish, but just don't be a douche.

13.  I should have my own television show...or at the very least a book deal.  (just had to sneak that in there for fun...but really, my life is clearly a sitcom).

14.  A first impression should be just that.  Let there be a second impression.  It's okay to make snap judgments about people, as long as you're willing to be proven wrong.  Of course, it’s probably better to not make those snap judgments in the first place, but I'm a realist.  I recognize there are many people I misjudged after first meeting and how different my life would be if I had not given them a second...or third...chance.

15.  Almost nothing is permanent.  For better or worse.  If you're in a bad situation it won't always be bad, and if you're in something great, don’t take it for granted.  This isn't to suggest you should live in fear or start conspiracy theories.  And on the flipside, it doesn't mean you should wait around for your situation to change.  It just means we all have to learn to appreciate the good in our lives and have faith that the bad will be replaced with something better (keep in mind better is a relative term, I'm not promising you a fairy-tale.  There are no knights in shining armor in NYC.   I know - you're thinking of that Disney movie "Enchanted.").

16.  My life won't magically be better 5lbs from now.  I'm pretty sure I was part of some bizarro live studio audience at Universal Studios for some failed NBC talk show (I'm not being elusive, I honestly have no idea what it was called) and we got a book with a title similar to that which I promptly used as a prop for an uneven table leg, but I've since found this statement to be true and yet I'm still not sure I'll believe it 2 months from now.  I've wanted to lose 5-10 lbs since I was approximately 8.  Oh, you didn’t already think you were fat at 8? Well, la di freakin da for you.  Over the years my weight has fluctuated and looking back at those times when I was 5-10 lbs lighter than I am right now, I admit I wasn't necessarily happier and of course, I still wanted to lose 5-10 lbs.  I've learned that eating healthy provides many benefits other than weight loss, that exercise is not just a means to an end and that an indulgent meal is well worth it on occasion.  I've accepted I'll never be as thin as I want to be and while I’ll keep striving for new goals and likely keep trying new diet and exercise fads, I won’t be defined by the number on the scale.

17.  No one has it all figured out.  No one.  Nope, not even that one person you're thinking of that always seem so god damn put together.  Or her mom.  Not even her mom.

18.  Empathy is underrated and there are few greater compliments than being considered a good friend.  So don't take that role lightly, it carries tremendous responsibility.  I'm not saying I'm thankful for the things that have gone wrong, the hard times I've endured, the pain, the disappointment, the heartache (good lord re-reading that list warrants a #poorlittlerichgirlisagreatnailcolor or #firstworldwhitegirlproblems or something...luckily I don't tweet, but you know what I’m trying to say) -but it has made me a better person and it has made me appreciate things and people, which in turn has made me a better confidant and a good listener and those skills make me who I am.  I'm often the shoulder to cry on, the tough love guru or the bearer of objective advice and more than anything I've learned those roles are a privilege and not a burden. 

19.  I am stronger than most people give me credit for.  Period. End of story.

20.  Whatever you're feeling, there's a someecard for that.  And somehow those stupid cards have an incredible way of making you feel better about whatever it is.  Solidarity or something.  And I mean, whoever (first) made the "everything happens for a reason and sometimes that reason is you're stupid and make bad decisions" someecard is clearly my soulmate.  It’s a shame I don't believe in soulmates. 

21.  The ability to be by yourself and be okay by yourself is probably the most important life skill out there.  I have friends who I fear would literally die if they were forced to be on their own and while I truly hope I'll never have to find out if that's true, the reality is no one can predict the future and you have to know you’d be able to get by relying on just YOU and be comfortable being alone at times.  I’m not embracing this as a reason to stay alone and I’m not suggesting those times are not sometimes lonely, but the skills you ultimately discover and the inner dialogues you are forced to have should not be overlooked.  It's those alone times when you really learn who you are in the first place and until you know that, who's life are you living anyway?

22.  You can compromise your beliefs but eventually they'll catch up with you.  I'd prefer not to expand on the details of this life lesson.

23.  It's okay to be sad about the things you don't have.  It really is and it’s also okay to express that sadness.  Just find the right audience (some people lack the ability to relate, others will just make you feel stupid).  If you're like me, you often feel guilty when you’re in a funk because of all those things you should be grateful for (I believe health always tops the list. Which, I mean, meh.).  And while perspective is certainly important, it's okay to mourn for the things you want and a good cry every now and then can be better than therapy. 

24.  Everyone should have a hobby.  Seriously, get a hobby.  Remember back when you used to be interesting?  I'm sorry, that was presumptuous.  Perhaps you were never interesting.  But if you were, you probably had a hobby then.  We've become such a two dimensional society in so many ways.  Life isn't as cookie cutter as you think.  I'm tragically bored by so many of you. 

24(a) Yes, I know this is cheating.  I tried to sneak it in once already but by now you’re probably wise to me.  But here’s a little sub-truth as a push in one direction.  The greatest reward comes from giving a damn.  So if you’re without a hobby, find something your passionate about and try to make a difference.  Just try. 

25.  You actually do catch more bees with honey (or whatever that expression is).  So be nice to people.  Smile.  Say thank you.  If you're nice people will want to help you, rather than hang up on you or spit in your food.  However, I'm not denying there's also a time and a place to go into bitch-mode and you should never let someone take advantage of your niceness.   And sometimes no matter what approach you take, it just won’t matter.  (i.e. Time Warner).

26.  Most people, at their core, are good...and noble and compassionate, and if you let them, they will surprise you.  That is all.  I am constantly humbled by the goodness and generosity of others.  Thank you good people for melting my cold, cynical heart.

27.  Worrying won't get you anything but wrinkles.  From what I've heard anyway, my superior moisturizing routine (sarcasm) has allowed me to avoid any early onset wrinkles.  I am notorious for losing sleep as a result of something I have zero control over.  If a mistake was made, it was made and you'll somehow fix it (hopefully). Replaying conversations won't change what was said and going through 100 ‘what if’ scenarios will still not prepare you for the one thing that might actually go wrong. 95% of the time it's not as bad as you think it could be and then you lost years off your life for nothing.  But even if it is as bad as you're fearing, hours spent worrying won't change it, so go out and have a glass of wine and don't worry until it happens, or however that saying goes. (In sum, do as I say not as I do).

28.  Sometimes friendships fall apart.  You don't have to like it, but you have to accept it.  Sometimes you're to blame, sometimes no one is to blame.  Life is messy and complicated and sometimes growing up means growing apart.  Treasure those friendships you still have because relationships - all kinds of relationships - are what make life worth living.

29.  Everyone is a little bit racist. (or rather, prejudiced). Gasp. I know.  Naturally, as a state college educated sociology major I feel warranted in making that determination. But really, can't we just stop being so GDPC all the time and admit it already?  Everyone has prejudices, everyone makes snap judgments about certain demographics - for better or worse.   I bleed liberal blue to an obnoxious degree but I'll acknowledge the irrational reactions I've justified and then dismissed. Maybe someday the world will be a different place, but for now I’d argue it’s more important to not cling to those snap judgments that you’re inevitably going to make and let people prove you wrong, rather than concentrating so hard on saying the right thing.  Anyway, it's boring to be around people who only say the right thing. 

29(a) Sub-rule/Counter-rule (I know, I know, I’m cheating again): It's important to educate the ignorant, even if you fail, and you will likely fail.  Welcome to America folks.

30.  Life doesn't stop at 30 (or at least I hope it doesn't).  And it’s not too late to make changes, real changes, to find yourself, to find your happiness and to find where you should really be.