Book Clubs are for...

I don't really have a meaning behind the title of this post or an ending in mind for that phrase, although a quick google search will take you to a web bulletin where someone finished the statement thus: "Book clubs are for people who don't really like books."

I thought that was an interesting statement.

Anyways, that statement is not the point of this post. I just through it in there for the heck of it. The point is to say that the book club I've recently joined finished its third book last night. So far we've read the following:

The Alchemist
by Paulo Coelho

The Power and the Glory
by Graham Greene

The Love of the Last Tycoon
by F. Scott Fitzgerald

I can honestly say that I've enjoyed every book we've read so far. (This statement is not to imply that the purpose of a book club or of reading books in general is to enjoy everything you read. It just so happens that, for me, that's been the case thus far.) In its own way, each book has brought new perspective to my ever changing landscape---the lens(es) by which I view the world.

The following is not meant in any way to act as a comprehensive list or summary of my entire learnings from the books read for book club thus far. I wouldn't even say that it's intended to highlight key learnings. Take what comes next as simply what it is... a small piece neither first nor last in the grand scheme of my experience with the above mentioned works.

"The Alchemist" invited me to look at the world around me and my relationship with God, nature, and myself in a new and insightful way. Greene's "The Power and the Glory" explored the dichotomy between faith and doubt, sin and righteousness, that exists within a single man. "The Love of the Last Tycoon"---which is really not a complete novel, but rather a collection of 17 existing (out of 31 planned) episodes or mini-chapters left unfinished and in rough form due to Fitzgerald's untimely death at age 44---allowed me to see under the normally complete and tightly woven fabrics of a master writer's work to see the intricacies and processes that come together to create the greater whole. I was able to see a snapshot of the process behind creating what would have been and what, despite its incomplete form, many consider to be the best Hollywood novel.

All that said, I'm excited to read our next book:

Fire in the Belly: On Being a Man
by Sam Keen

i hate when i do that

On the subway ride home from work tonight I saw a man with a Liahona bike. For those of you who don't know, Liahona is a brand of bike that (atleast to my knowledge) is based in Utah and is mostly targeted to missionaries. Anyways, I thought that I should go ask the man where he got his bike, thinking that it could possibly lead to a missionary oriented discussion. Perhaps he bought it from a missionary or maybe the missionaries use to teach him and gave it to him to help him get around and take care of his family...I don't know. (I'd like to think that he didn't steal it from some missionary.)

Well, the thought to go up and talk to him wouldn't go away. The words kept repeating in my mind, "Where did you get your bike?" Those seemed like easy enough words to say.

I chickened out and didnt' say anything. And then, we both got off at my stop. I could redeem myself. But I didn't. I walked out the turnstile and up the stairs.

Once above ground, I paused for a moment, kicked myself for being so stupid, turned around and walked down the stairs and back to the platform where I assume this man was waiting to transfer to another train. I arrived only to find a new train sitting at the stop, its doors closing as it prepared to leave. My bicycle man was nowhere in sight. He was likely already on the train.

I don't know why or if I was suppose to talk to him, but I don't think that's what's important.
I hate when I do that.

styled hair and bright eyes

Despite things both within and out of my control today seemingly conspiring to bring my day down.
For example: sleeping in and getting stuck on a very slow subway train this morning, getting an unpleasant mid-day headache, realizing both my tires on my bike are flat only AFTER I've gotten everything else ready for some exercise on my rollers, etc.
Despite these things, it was a good day.
Let me tell you just two of the reasons why:
On my way home from work I stopped in at the Supercuts on University (between 10th and 11th) to pick up some d:fi (It's this "pliable molding cream" for styling your hair. I've used it for several years and haven't found anything I like better). I was almost out, and then I went and left what little I had left in Boston. Anyways, after calling them up to make sure they had some in stock, I decided to alter my normal route home in order to secure said product. To my joy I was able to get the larger container (double the size and normally costing something like $20) for the price of the smaller container because the guy found one in the display unit that had been marked down for a promotion.
And as if that wasn't enough to make my day, I learned a new song on the guitar tonight.

yes, i know

Yes, I know. Much has happened since my last post:
I've been to several concerts where I was privileged to hear great music and spend time with good friends.
My roommates and I hosted an early bird Thanksgiving roughly a week before the official Thanksgiving holiday at our apartment. (All credit to its fabulousness goes to Becca Shim and those who brought food. It was Becca's party, we were just lucky enough to act as hosts.)
Two of my roomates went to Costa Rica for Thanksgiving. My other roommate and I found ourselves surrounded by marvelous people in Boston for the holiday weekend. While there I was able to visit several close friends I haven't seen for a good while.
Oh yes, and then on Sunday I turned 26. Yes, another year older and wiser to (let's hope).

To tell you the truth, each of those things deserves a post in and of themselves, but in case that doesn't happen...well, at least they've found their way into this synopsis post. :)

Hope all is well out there for those who make my blog a regular read.

a little sick

I woke up this morning with a sore throat.
My throat is still a little sore, my nose is runny and tender, and I can feel some sinus pressure.
I've tried to be gentle on myself today.
I'm going to bed.
I hope I'm feeling better tomorrow.
We have a client presentation/worksession in the morning.

She touched me...and I remembered.

She touched me---a gentle but firm hand that caressed and then slid along my back as she passed by, smiled, and said hello.

She touched me. And I remembered how perfect it feels to be touched by someone who loves you.

I didn't.

On my way to work I saw someone from behind that looked a lot like you. I knew it wasn't, but I still wanted to call out your name to make sure.

I didn't.

If you came to New York you would tell me---wouldn't you?
I miss you, but I can't help but wonder if it's just the thought of you I miss more.

Either way, a part of me feels empty.

One of those nights

I'm restless. Maybe it has something to do with the nap I took earlier today. Or maybe it's something else. I don't know.

happy ending?

Some of you know about Patrick Moberg's recent craigslist posting. You heard it from a friend who sent you a link over IM while you were at work, saw on another friends blog, read about it on gothamist, possibly watched an online video, and you've undoubtedly went to his website (nygirlofmydreams.com). But in case you have no idea what I'm talking about and don't feel like clicking on those links, here's what Patrick originally posted on craigslist and on his website the other day:

And here's what he posted on the site today:

Some of my thoughts considering the subject:

There's a fine line we guys ride when approaching a girl we find attractive. There's an invisible balance between "putting ourselves out there" (what some of us call, "growing some balls") and being seen as "creepy".

I'm positive that, to varying degrees, every guy I know has experienced what Patrick did that day on the subway. You see a cute girl, but the opportunity to start up a conversation in a way that won't come across as creepy just doesn't make itself apparent. Or maybe you are able to break that ice, you're able to say hi or exchange a few words but in the given situation asking for her phone number just wouldn't seem appropriate. You could hardly expect her to give her number to someone she's known for 5 seconds. The opportunity is fleeting, and then she's gone. The opportunity has passed and you kick yourself for not doing...something. I know I have experienced this; and, considering recent conversations with roommates and friends, I know they have as well---one as recent as last night.

Anyways, who knows if it will work out between Patrick and this girl, but it sure makes for a great story. Every guy's daydream. Way to go Patrick.