I'm Known for Running My Mouth

Phew! It's been a very very long time! I'm very sorry! I've been really busy, lazy, and just yesterday, I fell while on a run and twisted my ankle and busted my knee. Your father is a very rugged outdoorsy man, you know. Well, that's a lie and you know it, but getting injured like that did make me feel very manly. However, I am now paying the price. My LEFT ankle and my RIGHT knee are super-swollen. So it's pretty great that BOTH my legs are effed up. It makes walking VERY easy. I'm being facetious. If you didn't catch on. I hope you did, though. Because if you didn't, I'd be really afraid you're were really dumb...and I'd be a little ashamed. What else...oh! I surprised your aunties and grandma and grandpa and great-grandma and the rest of the family for Thanksgiving! It was great. I was so clever. I'm the best son, brother, person ever! I'm amazing! You should learn to be more modest.

But onto the lesson!

Lesson 8: Don't settle.

It sounds simple, but is it really? See how I wrote that like a news tease? I am horrible at writing news teases. If you ever get into news writing-and I won't judge you if you do, but I'll think a little less of you because I hate it- don't take lessons from me. Anyways, this sort of ties into my lesson. I hope by the time you read this, you'll have realized that I raised you to be a dreamer. My own mommy and daddy and my sisters have always encouraged me to follow my passion, even when I doubted it myself. They've made me somewhat of an idealist. I don't know how much of a realist bone I have in my body (but I do have a real "bone!" hahaha...get it? I mean a boner) and I guess that's not necessarily the best thing, but I think it's a good thing to be a dreamer. I hope I have raised you to think beyond yourself and your means. Life isn't easy, but I hope you have learned that despite how difficult it can be, it's also full of opportunities and if you believe and want it enough, things will fall into place when you need them to...and well, sometimes they don't...but at least you knew you tried to make them fall into place.

But anyways, I bring this up, because I sincerely believe that every person is capable of amazing things if they think they can. I know I talk a lot about my job and how unsatisfied I am with it and that really hasn't changed. Grandpa and Grandma both think I should stay at this job because it's a job. As I see it, it's not worth it. Yes, it's a job, but I wouldn't be happy staying there. I refuse to settle. I don't enjoy the function and purpose of my job, I don't particularly like the people I work with, and it's an industry I lose more and more faith in as time goes on. So while I'm scared out of my mind, I take solace and (maybe naively) and happiness in knowing that the world is so full of opportunities. It may be because I am too much of an optimist or too much of an idealist, but that's how you get by in the world. I could leave this job and think "oh, jeez, I am so fucked. I am going to have suck dicks and sell my body to make money and then lie to my family about it during holiday gatherings and it'll get to the point where I'll have jizz in my hair because I gave a bj to some guy on the street right before I came over and people will ask 'hey, is that jizz in your hair' and I'll have to make up a lie like in 'There's Something About Mary' but everyone will have seen it and not believe me and I'll have to make up another extravagant lie that no one believes in and I'll have an emotional breakdown and have to confess to having penises in my mouth" but instead I'm going to think "I'm young, I'm capable, and I have faith that an even better opportunity will come along." Now, if you wanna think about having dicks in your mouth, that's totally fine. You are who you are.

Now I know it can sound scary to not settle, but even the people I have talked to at work agree. People who settled regret it and oftentimes, years and years after they made the decision to. The thing about settling is that when you settle, it's hard to unsettle yourself. So I hope that in your life, you make decisions not solely based on the fact that it's safe and secure, but based on the fact that you WANT to make that decision and you believe in the outcome that you want that decision to have. You deserve more than selling yourself short. Take chances, because I know I'll have raised someone that knows what they want out of life and is willing to take the risks and put in the hard work to get there.

There ya go! All done! Class adjourned.

I hope when you read this, I'm still as cool as I was when I wrote this...which is really cool. I'm hoping my dirty talk of dicks and sex will still be as popular in my speech as a parent.

Love,

Patrick

NASA ft. Kanye West, Lykke Li, Santogold - Gifted

To Learn in Life, You Have to Fall Face First, Hit Rock Bottom

Sorry it's been a while. I just had an amazing weekend with thee only David, Dennis, and Mika! Days of endless walking, nights of talking and randomness, and non-stop eating. I should've had horrible explosive diarrhea every night, but somehow I didn't. Amazing. Anyways...

Lesson 7: Realize how much your actions matter.

So once again, this lesson is derived from a day at work. Today I went out to shoot an interview with one of my favorite photographers (well, really, the photographers in general are my favorite people at the station because one off, they're guys and consequently they don't breed and breathe drama like the women in the station and secondly they're just really grounded and fun to be around.) in San Leandro. I'm interviewing our interviewee and I can hear my photog's phone buzzing non-stop. Turns out one of my senior producers is repeatedly texting him asking him where he is and why he didn't leave the footage he had shot with her the week before. So after the interview raps up, I ask him to take some broll shots of our interviewee and he asks me to make a call to my executive producer to see why the senior producer is freaking out. My EP has no idea and doesn't seem to have a clue as to what is going on and tells me she'll call me back. She calls me back and asks to speak to the photographer where she proceeds to chew him out for not leaving the footage from last week even though the senior producer (who, to her defense is usually great and very sweet) had an opportunity to call the photographer before I took him to shoot my interview.

It somehow turned into the photographer's fault that no one asked him to upload the footage. It was the end of the day on a Friday when he finished the shoot and he was around at least for twenty minutes before we left for the shoot, so plenty of time was to be had for a call to the photographer. So we talked about how poor the leadership was on the team. My EP, as we've come to realize is just a bad leader. As you've seen from my previous posts, my EP is kinda crazy sometimes, likes to shift blame, and isn't in touch with the people she works with--she basically can't lead and can't manage...two very important traits for an EP and Newsroom Manager.

The funny thing though is that my EP and the others in my unit (all girls and most with big egos...I'm not trying to be sexist, but I really believe if more guys were in our unit, things would be A LOT easier...and if you are my daughter reading this...well, I don't mind that you have a vagina...just don't be a bitch, please) is that they DON'T have a clue that the way they interact with people is the sole reason why our unit is unorganized and isn't as cohesive as it should be. It's a constant clash of egos. People talk about other people behind their backs, people have attitude, people are bossy, and my boss especially lacks any tact and any people skills. I sit at Ground Zero in my newsroom. Between all the producers and my EP and have been at the epicenter of screaming, bitchy cat-fight after cat-fight. I can literally listen to a fight and pin-point where the the conversation took a downward spiral into a fight. I can even come up with a solution of my own and think of ten different ways to diffuse a situation that the women in this unit cannot seem to figure out. It's SO simple. BE NICE. There's never an excuse to be rude. But it's just a constant butting of heads. A simple disagreement over a shot or a line of track in a story turns into a huge fight and hurt feelings. THAT'S not how you lead! The perfect example was during the interview. Instead of coming off all hot and steaming at the photographer, my EP could've easily said, "Hey, Chris, I'm sorry, but we totally forgot that you had the footage still. Do you think you could feed it back to the station when you get a chance? We really need it." Instead of what she actually said "Chris. Why didn't you think to give the footage to Jess this morning? You should've at least told her you weren't gonna be back until later today. I really don't need this drama." (Keep in mind I had put the interview I scheduled in our calendar that we ALL have access to last week AND I announced I was taking Chris for a shoot twenty minutes prior to when I left--meaning plenty of time to have gotten the footage, but apparently no one listened or cared) See the difference? My approach would've diffused the situation. My EP's just made it worse.

So in the end we talked a lot about how poor of a leader my EP is and how the catty-ness of our unit just does nothing for our team...nothing positive at least. And like I said, no one seems to notice they are killing themselves and our product in the process. I hope you can realize that the way you conduct yourself, especially when you become a leader in your own right, that people aren't dumb. They know how they feel and they know what kind of person you are through the way you interact with them and what your actions show. That saying that actions speak louder than words? COMPLETELY true. You may not notice yourself how people react to your actions, but rest assured, people are definitely paying attention and for better or worse, really adds to how people see and judge you.

There you go. Not a very entertaining read, but an important one! Do what you do, but be ready for the consequences!

Also, I hope in the future when you're reading this, McDonalds is still selling 20-chicken McNugget meals, because those are delicious.

Bye,
Patrick

Pablo - Rock Bottom

We Are Shining and Will Never be Afraid Again

Hellooooo! It's been quite a long time since I've posted. I'm sorry. I hope I'm not as neglectful when I'm an actual parent...but I probably will be, so I hope by the time you read this you've become super self-sufficient and independent--preferably moved out and not needing any financial assistance from me.

Anyways, I'm in a GREAT mood because I ran my first half-marathon. I know it's not a full one, or a triathlon, or anything spectacular, but I'm proud of myself and am glad I did it!

I'm sure my legs are gonna hate me tomorrow, but they have no choice but to deal with it.

So onto the next lesson.

Lesson 6: Always believe that things are going to work out...even if it doesn't seem like they are.

So I'm not going to lie and say that life is all kittens and sprinkles (both of which I don't like very much, so I've probably raised you accordingly. Just replace 'kittens' with something phallic/vaginal and 'sprinkles' with something nasty/sexual and I know you are my true kin) and things AREN'T always going to work out, but if you go into something thinking--or worse, believing it won't...well, that's just gonna eff you over from the get-go.

Take today's half for example. It was my first half, I was under-trained, coming from an injury and a cold, and tired from waking up at the crack of dawn. But I believed that things would work out and that, heck, if I didn't finish, I'd have fun and know I tried my best. There's always a bright side to everything (at least most things...if you're getting stabbed and murdered or cheated on or something...well....that sucks) and it's good to always have that in the back of your mind.

Or take for instance figuring out your life. As I write this I am only 22 years young, look like I'm still in high school, have the maturity of a 13 year old preteen, and the aspirations of someone far more experienced in both their work and in life. I spend a lot of time thinking about what I can and will do with my life. I have lofty goals for myself and I sometimes catch myself in a rut of "can I really do this?" or "should I give up and try something else?" But I always try and pull myself out of that, because there's no point in feeling sorry for yourself. You just have to know and believe that whatever you're aiming for, something will work out. It may not be the outcome that you wanted, but if you worked for it and if you are still passionate about it, then you can't ask for more...and if it isn't the outcome you want, then try again. That's the great thing about life and having this outlook on it--life doesn't tell you to stop and give up. You do. If you go in with a positive attitude that you know something good is going to come of your work, then do it! There's no one stopping you but yourself (unless there's some bitch like literally blocking your way from doing something...in which case, knock that bitch-ass down!).

So I know, once again, I've given you a very vague lesson, but that's because I'm still trying to learn this, too. Like I said, I'm 22 and am already worried about what I'm going to do with my life. I want big things for myself and I know part of it is my impatience and part of it is my nagging bitch-voice telling me to lower my expectations. But that's something you just need to tune out. Think big, because I know you're capable of a lot. Anyone is. Again, just think to yourself that it may take days or years, but if you really, truly, and sincerely care about something, you can't go wrong by at least trying to attain it.

I'm tired. So I'm gonna stop. Eat some ice cream. Watch some TV. BECAUSE I DESERVE IT.

Love,

P

Florence + the Machine - Spectrum

Gotta Believe We'll Make it Out Alive

MOST STRESSFUL DAY OF WORK EVER.

Lesson 5: Let your feelings be known.

Now, I think this lesson has to be taken with a grain of salt (this is such a weird expression...with a grain of salt? Why not a granule of sugar? Or a dildo?), as I don't know if this lesson is applicable to all situations, but if you take my personal example as a model, I think you'll know when to put this lesson into action.

Anyways, today I go to work and during our editorial meeting, the executive producer for the unit I work for says she wants to day-turn a package about the iPhone 4S (which, probably in the day and age you read this will be ancient. We'll all be so powerful we can probably communicate with brain waves or some crazy shit. Orrrrr, we still suck and we're at like the iPhone 100X or something and it's the same as the iPhone 4S but with an even bigger screen and more processing power! I'm going to bet you it's a portable TV that people mainly use to store porn and watch on the bus to work. I already do that, and I'm way ahead of the curve.). Our news director wasn't all too thrilled with the idea...as I agreed, why do an iPhone 4S story the day BEFORE the phone comes out? Why go through the effort of shooting a story before the main event of that story actually happens? It's like going to the hospital when your wife is in labor and snapping pics of her dilating vagina and leaving before the baby comes out--THERE'S NO POINT. But I digress...and so did the news director.

So of course, my EP sends me out on this story. FINE. I'll make it work. She sets up an interview with her daughter's boyfriend who she CLAIMS has been shopping around Verizon, Sprint, and AT&T for the best plan (the story had evolved into making clear which of the carriers had the best service plan). AND she's also super into the fact that he's had the original iPhone for four years and is finally getting a new one, the 4S. So I go to interview the guy and he is the worst person for this story. First of all, he never "shopped around" and did "research" like my boss said; he's staying on AT&T because he's on a family plan with them already. Secondly, he had no compelling reason to switch over to the iPhone 4S besides the fact that his four-year-old iPhone 1 was dying--no shit?! Your old crappy-ass phone is starting to break?? WOW! NEWSWORTHY ALERT! STOP THE PRESSES! OH MY GOSH. LET'S RUN THIS STORY NEXT TO THE ONE ABOUT HOW YOU GET SLEEPY WHEN YOU DON'T GET ENOUGH SLEEP! HOLY CRAP!! AMAZING!!! So I keep interviewing him, HOPING that I can get some salvageable sound bites to use for my package, but alas, he had a horrible answer (not his fault of course) to everything. He's getting a cheaper service plan from AT&T because he's getting his very old data plan from his original iPhone grandfathered over, and he never once looked at the other carriers, and didn't have to fight in huge lines to get his iPhone 4S. He wasn't even that visibly excited to get it tomorrow. In short, nothing he said really added much to the story. So fuck, I basically had a worthless interview and nothing else set-up.

So I go with my photographer to shoot exteriors of all the carriers' stores and I luckily am able to schmooze enough with one of the store managers at Verizon to give me an interview. And once again, it's a dud. No bites about there being a huge number of sales and really nothing compelling. So I shoot with my photog for a couple hours and I head back to the station to write the script.

I finish writing, in what I think is a very impressive timeframe and give it to the reporter to read. I know what she's thinking, because I agree. The script I wrote is a piece of crap. The story is being carried on two bad interviews and a LOT of Broll. So the reporter tells our EP that she wants to kill the story or downgrade it to just a voiceover and not use the interviews I shot at all, because as I also thought, the interviews did not work with the story.

Now keep in mind, my EP said she thought the script was good, it was only until the reporter told her about how awkward of a story it was that I got the blame. My EP calls me over and says, "look, we HAVE to run this as a package" let me fix the script. So she reworks my script in a way that just changes the wording but doesn't change the impact--it's basically the same story but dressed up differently. And here she is moaning and complaining that I didn't get good enough sound-bites, because obviously, the interview she set up for me was SO brilliant and I just failed at it. And keep in mind, getting a store manager at any corporate store is hard to get the day of a story--oftentimes, these need to be set up at least hours in advance. "Well, did you try to get people on the street getting their iPhones?" "Well, you really should've gotten better sound with so and so" SERIOUSLY?! The person you told me to interview WAS NOT THE RIGHT PERSON FOR THIS STORY. The store manager didn't have much to add that was relevant because the crux of the story is the best service plan, and he obviously touted Verizon. AND, getting people on the street to comment on the 4S? NO ONE at the Apple Store was looking for them. You can pre-order the damn things ONLINE. No one was lining up around the block for it. Jeez. And get this, she's trying to rewrite my script not knowing what "data" is and not understanding what "texting" is. WHY DID YOU TRY TO DO THIS STORY?!!?

So anyways, this starts a firestorm between the reporter and our EP; the reporter refuses to run it as a package and my EP wants her to. Basically I get caught in the middle feeling horrible. The reporter apologizes to me about the whole issue, saying that after looking through the interviews I shot, there was no way the story would work and that I did the best with what I got. My EP on the other hand kept trying to shift the blame. It was my fault that our interviewee didn't fit our story, it was my fault that I didn't get good sound. She kept asking me "what did you do for two hours in the field?" Let's see, I interviewed two people, drove around the city getting exteriors I needed and begged people at the other carriers to speak to me, and trying to get people on the street to give me better sound. She even told me it was my fault that I didn't call her to tell her that our interviews weren't working. Oh, I'm sorry. I thought when I was given a task, I'm supposed to do my best to complete it. AND, btw, don't forget, she said my script was fine before the reporter brought up her issue. So basically I'm getting the blame for something out of my control. AND she has the nerve to email me TWICE about what I could've done differently. She says that we got an email from Verizon about a 4S launch party...at 2PM. I first of all don't get those types of emails because my account isn't linked to them, and second of all, I WAS IN THE EFFING FIELD ALL DAY. WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL ME? There's always time for would-a, could-a, should-a, but at the end of the day, it all got fucked up...if you're just going to rub my face in it without constructive feedback, then shut up!

Sorry that was a very long story...but I had to vent, too. But at the end of this horrible horrible ordeal, the reporter sweetly asks if I'm mad at her. And of course I'm not, because I completely agree that the story was crap. I was given a bag of shit and told to make a story out of it. I'm not GOD. And you're asking a very new producer to do this? My senior producer told me turning this story would've been superhuman and that even with decades of experience she's not sure she could've salvaged it.

So here's where the lesson comes in. It may not have been the most tactful way, but I complained to my reporter, to my cameraman, my co-associate producer, and my senior producer about the way my EP handled the situation. I let them know that it was NOT my fault. I tried my best with the crappy tools and direction that were given to me. And they all agreed, I was not in the wrong. And I guess that's a pretty simple lesson. My EP may think I stunk (although I secretly think she knows she screwed up but just wants to skirt the blame), but the people who I work more closely with know that I didn't. They know I tried, they know I had very limited resources, and they know that if it really came down to it, the story was air-able. I think that's the biggest part of this lesson...letting people know how you feel. You need to be vocal about how you're treated, otherwise you'll just keep getting treated the same way. And you need to be vocal to let others know when things AREN'T your fault. This may be bad advice, but if you are raised by me, you won't be good at kissing ass. There's a fine line between being polite and kissing ass, and you better be good at just the former. Sure, you gotta play the game, but as I've said in previous lessons, try to get ahead on your merit and skill. Whether it's producing a story, getting a promotion at your job, or sucking dicks or something--always try to surpass yourself by just being you, and not a suck-up (unless you're sucking dicks).

So this was a very convoluted lesson, but take away that you just need to let those who will listen know how you feel, especially when it comes to your work. Your job will be a very big part of your life and you can't take the blame for things just because you are on the bottom of the totem pole. Like I said, my boss might think I'm a horrible producer, but I know everyone else doesn't. And just know, that by leading your life this way and being as honorable as you can, you'll be a much more effective leader. Don't shift the blame when it's yours. Take ownership of your actions. EVERYONE makes mistakes, even leaders, and you need to own up to it when you're in that position. I highly disagree with how my EP handled herself. She apologized only for arguing with the reporter in front of me and putting me in the middle, never about having poor judgement not only about our interviewee but the story in general. Just know, that if you are ever in that position, and me as well, that you better take responsibility. If my EP had just said "hey, I'm sorry about what happened, I thought our interviewee was different" the whole problem would never have existed (and to further defend my EP she was never "angry" about the situation, and was for the most part cordial about it and I'm sure the stress of the moment had a lot to do with her actions).

There you go. Be vocal. Be honest. Be yourself. Be an effective leader.

I'm tired.

Go to bed. Or something.

Peace out,

P

Mike del Rio - Mad World

My Blood is Radioactive

Hi there!

I'm in a surprisingly good mood for a Sunday night and having to work tomorrow. It's probably because I had a fun day out with friends apple-picking in Sebastopol and pumpkin patching-ing in Petaluma. And also because I had In-n-Out for the first time!! YAY! It was effing delicious. I also ate at this place called CREAM for the first time. SO GOOD. Sounds dirty, I know, but after you get their ice-cream sandwiches in your mouth...you'll be creaming...if you know what I mean. Ugh, I'm gross.

Anyways, onto the lesson, because I have to go to bed soon!

Lesson 4: Take the time to know what you want to do with your life.

I know, sounds like a big thing to accomplish, right? Well you're right, it is. That means this is something that will be hard, take a lot of self-reflection, and a lot of time.

I've been reading a lot about one's working life lately, surprisingly because of the death of former Apple CEO, Steve Jobs. After his death, I watched a YouTube video off his graduation address to a graduating class at Stanford. He basically said what my dad has always told me--to find the thing you love and enjoy, and run with it. It is only when you find that passion and that true and pure enjoyment that you can be happy AND successful.

So that is something I want you to understand. I'm probably not the best person to ask, because frankly, I have NO idea what I'm doing with my life and don't fully comprehend what your grandpa has been telling me for years.

As I've mentioned before, I'm not in love with my job. It's tolerable and at times enjoyable, but I don't wake up everyday, thinking "Damn, I can't wait to get to work!" I think more along the lines of "Fuck, I'm tired. I need to poop." Something else Jobs said is that your work takes up a very large amount of your life, so you should be spending it in a way that you truly want--I guess just living your work and not just working it.

I hope that is something that you can strive for and something, that when you get to an appropriate enough an age, can understand and put into action. I've been at this job for about three or four months now, which is nothing. But I think I can already tell that it isn't the job for me. I want it to be, because that would make life a hell of a lot easier, but unfortunately, life isn't always that nice--sometimes (s)he can be the biggest douche ever. A vag-cleansing device from hell.

And it's scary. I want to love this job because I want to know that I'll be happy in this job and secure and not have to worry about not only finding another job, but finding another job that I want. I thought I wanted to be in the TV news industry my whole life, and maybe I still do, but I have my doubts. If on a local level I don't like it, what are the chances a nationally syndicated show would be much better? So I guess the question you need to answer is whether or not you're willing to take the risk to find out. I sure as hell don't know if I am. I hope by the time you read this, I will have raised you to listen with 80% of your heart and 20% of your brain (and maybe a few percent points in there with your dick/lady-parts in the right situations). I am a firm believer of fate, but I am also a firm believer in instinct and intuition. Your brain is for thinking, but your heart is for feeling. If a situation doesn't feel right, don't follow into it, if something feels good, then go for it. Your brain can figure out the logistics later.

So after all of this, I guess I have no real how-to for this lesson. I, myself, am trying to figure out what I want to do after this stage of my life. I've thought about food journalism, video game journalism, documentary film, and even moving back into print work. I think the big thing to take away from this is not being afraid to ask yourself the hard questions and not being afraid of the answers. I hate that my answers contradict the job I'm in, but that is the most valuable thing of all. Knowing what you DON'T want to do. It's just as valuable as knowing what you do want to do. And be patient (which, I know if you have my genes workin' up in your bod, you probably won't be). The answers aren't all going to come quickly and aren't always going to be right. But that's the fun part of living your life with your heart and feeling as opposed to the logic-speak of your noggin. Life is unpredictable and so are you, so why not lead your life with the most unpredictable part of you.

I don't know where I'll end up after my job contract runs its course. I want the security of having a job and hopefully a promotion after my contract is up, but does job security outweigh feeling somewhat unfulfilled. I don't know. I guess we'll see what happens. This is horrible leading by example, but I hope that if and when you find yourself in this situation, you'll think "dad, you're dumb" and really put some thought into what you want out of your life and how you're going to get there. Just keep in mind we all tread different paths.

And I also want to thank you, because by writing this, I am learning more about myself and am feeling braver in facing myself and asking those tough questions. I am a true optimist, and I am hoping I have imparted that to you--everything will work out okay.

Lesson 4.5: Don't go through this on your own. I'm sure you have a lovely and supporting family and friend system. Use them as your resource. I know first-hand, your aunts are amazing.

I hope this isn't so melodramatic. I am writing this at 10:48PM on a Sunday night, a 22-year-old sitting in NYU sweats and a lime-green tee. It might just be the fatigue, but I think despite my youth, I have a lot on my mind I want to say. It's so weird...I feel like I'm years and years away from knowing who you are and from you actually reading this, but I feel like I sort of know you already. Jeez. I am so dramatic.

I need to sleep.

Love,

P

Marina and the Diamonds - Radioactive

Yeah, I Don't Mind Sleeping With My TV On

I'm too effing tired to come up with a good lead-in to today's lesson. Writing too much at work and I am MUY tired!

So lesson fo': Never be afraid to ask questions.

You know that old saying that "there's no such things as stupid questions?" Well, fuck, whoever said that is totally wrong. Of course there's such a thing! There are ALWAYS dumb questions that can be asked--the real issue is, if it's worth asking.

Take today at work for example. I was supposed to produce a segment from (read: steal a segment idea from) the network level CBS Early Show for our local station. My boss told me to look up the segment. But when she told me, she just said an early show, not "the Early Show" (with the caps, making it a proper noun, meaning I would've known it was the network level show, not one of our own local early shows). So I'm searching around our local CBS show site for the segment and cannot find it AT ALL. Now of course, I probably should've assume she meant the network level show because, why would we wanna re-show a segment that was put on like ten hours ago? But I had just worked a ten hour shift the night before and was butt-fuck tired. So in any case, I spent wasted minutes looking up the stuff and holding our cameraman up when I just should've swallowed my pride and asked my boss. When I finally did, she didn't even roll her eyes or anything (at least not outside where I could see) and clarified that it was a network level segment.

That definitely wasn't an interesting story. But the moral of the story is that if I had the balls and was humble enough to ask for help and ask what I thought was a dumb question, I could've saved myself and my cameraman a lot of time. There's probably more meaningful examples, but like I said, I'm tired. I don't owe you anything. You read this, you enjoy it, and you figure it out. Love you!

-P

Jack's Mannequin - Televsion

Don't Stop, Push it Now

I don't have a very good lead-up to the next lesson. Sorry. I'm really tired (this half-marathon training is killing me slowly. Something's always hurting. My feet throb, my ankle's sore, my shins hurt, my knee is bothering me, my calf is tight, my back is out of whack...I feel like an old person. I did an eight or nine mile run on Monday and today I could barely get past two...ugh. I don't know HOW I did XC in high school. Seriously. Maybe because I was so much younger back then...Props to all the dedicated badass runners out there. Such machines.), AND I have to work tomorrow, Sunday. Boo. So I'm gonna try to write this and hop in bed early.

Without further adieu,

Lesson 3: Always try to take risks and challenge yourself.

When I look back on my life, I see a few moments that I am very proud of because I chose to follow my heart (cheesy, I know, but your daddy is a true emotional-ist), and that oftentimes included taking a big risk.

My first big general risk and challenge was all of high school. I think the end of middle school and all throughout high school is when I started to blossom and really start finding myself a bit. In elementary school I was an awkward, geeky Asian kid with a hefty weight problem and then an awkward, geeky Asian kid that was oddly very skinny in middle school (I would later attribute the reason to my orthodontics--my teeth hurt so bad I HAD TO starve myself. That, and I grew a lot and the fat probably just more evenly distributed itself). High school, like the porridge for that sneaky bitch Goldilocks, was just right. I decided to break out of my shell a bit and spread my legs...haha just kidding, spread my wings, and really put myself out there. I met my bestest friends in high school, did things I never thought I would, and found my passion for journalism. This is very vague, I know, but high school was a great maturing and self-discovering process for me, and I think I owe it all to trying to create a new slate and just being positive about an opportunity that could help me become a person I'd like to be.

The second risk/challenge (rallenge?chisk?) was deciding to pack up and move to New York for school. For very obvious reasons, I see this as the biggest life-changing event in my life. I moved across the country to a city VERY different than Renton, and spent the next four years there. If I hadn't moved there, I don't think I would've grown as much or in the same way. I fell in love with that city, and I am so appreciative of my decision (and all the support) to go there. I was presented with so many opportunities and was able to learn so much and got to experience a city in a way I never would have otherwise (and got to live in Prague for a semester which was also a big PLUS! You better study abroad). And moving away from home really set the bar for me to be open to change and moving in the name of being ambitious and furthering myself.

That leads to chisk three. Moving to the Bay Area. I left my heart in New York, but a second out-of-body heart is growing here in San Francisco, too. It was so hard to leave and sometimes feels even harder to be here because even though I'm so close to home...I'm not there. People always ask if I plan on moving back to Seattle, and the answer is usually always "no." It's not that I hate my family or my friends--it's quite the opposite. But I have lofty goals for myself and I don't see myself accomplishing them there. Seattle is an amazing and beautiful city that I'm sure harbors plenty of opportunities, but it doesn't feel like home in the same way New York and San Francisco do. I just don't know how to explain it. I'm probably giving a very biased point of view, because the fact of the matter is, I feel out of touch with Seattle past the amazing people I know that live there. I haven't given it a fair chance, I know. But at this point, I like it in San Francisco so much and miss New York the same amount that I don't know if I can give Seattle the chance it deserves. And that is a huge challenge in itself. Knowing where you want to be, and knowing where you belong. There probably isn't a right answer for that and it may take a while to find out. Heck if I know where I want and should be. Sometimes I yearn to fly back to the east coast and be in the Big Apple again, sometimes I miss my family and friends so much I'd be happy to book a flight home and stay forever, and sometimes I enjoy the Bay Area so much that I decide I'd be content staying here forever--and sometimes I get the urge for something new yet again. There's so many risks and challenges involved in moving. I get afraid that I will lose touch with my friends, that they'll progress without me, and I have always hated being away from my family, especially my sisters/your aunties. But you always have to stop and think that you're doing all this for the betterment of yourself. What you choose to do, should be a risk or challenge--that's what makes it worth it. I ball my eyes out whenever I fly to one of these cities because I hate leaving, but I also know leaving is worth it. Granted, I probably would be just as happy and successful staying in one place like Seattle, but I don't know if I would want to change anything. I'm happy with the life I've lead so far and I'm so happy to have the support of everyone around me. And that's another thing--make sure the risks and challenges you endure are backed by your family and friends--that also makes it worth it...and survive-able.

Andddd, this whole lesson was inspired by the fact that I had to work tomorrow, because for the first time, I will be writing for several of Sunday's newscasts. Something I have never done before. I'm excited, really nervous, but I'm up for the CHALLENGE. AND THE RISK. And I know it says a lot about who I am as an employee for stepping up to the plate and doing it. So huzzah! Learn my child, learn!

So I know that's a lot to take in, but I'm sure when the time comes, you'll know when to apply this knowledge.

Alright, like I said, your pops has to work tomorrow, so I'm finishing up this post now. See what I do for you? I write late into the night to educate you, even when I have to work on a Sunday. You better appreciate the hell out of me. And I mean lavish gifts and treating me like a king when I get old.

Love you!

P

The Sounds - Tony the Beat

Why Don't You Shout Out My Name?

So I'm trying my darndest to update this blog as often as possible--daily if I'm lucky. But no one is THAT lucky. This is going to sound weird, but I feel instantly more attached to writing in this thing because not only has it become a bit more therapeutic as of late, but it's also gotten a lot more meaningful. I know I'm forever away from having a child or getting a smart enough dog to be able to read this, but just knowing that sometime in the future, someone that means so much to me is going to be able to read this and maybe get something from it is kind of amazing to think about.

With that said, here's lesson 2:

Things are often better than you think they are. Remember how I was bitching and moaning about my boss yesterday? Well, I still have my problems with her and probably always will until one of us leaves, but you know how people always say you should take a walk in somebody else's shoes (or maybe since this is years into the future no one walks, but hover-bikes or something everywhere and doesn't wear shoes! Wow, that'd be so cool. Well, if we have become so incredibly technologically advanced and lazy that we don't use our feet, shoes are basically clothes for your footies)? Well, you should. Or at least talk to someone who knows how it feels to be in your object of un-desire's shoes.

After work today, I was surprised by one of my absolute favorite reporters at the station when she invited myself, another associate producer, and two other senior producers to happy hour with her to thank us for all the work we've helped her with. I was supposed to go for a run after work to keep my training for the SF half marathon up, but hey, when beer and fried food is involved, why would I say no? If you are truly related to me, you'll understand. If you are truly related to me, you're probably eating or drinking something unhealthy for you RIGHT NOW. If you're not...just know that I'm a little ashamed. If you're offended by that...you need to learn your father's humor.

So we get to talking, and I find myself in a potpourri of girls aged 22 to 40 something. It's like being on the View (or that new ripoff of the View, the Talk. GREAT titles everyone. If you don't know what these shows are, do a Google search. Or Wikipedia it. It'll probably say something like "meaningless show where intelligent woman obnoxiously self-promote their own viewpoints on something and the unintelligent ones do the same thing except with stupider viewpoints" For the Talk, it'll probably say the same thing except with the phrase "but worse"), except I'm the Asian girl, but not really a girl. Me and the other AP are both the newest people at the station and when everyone's gone except my favorite reporter, she asks us how we felt about work and the people.

I was honest and told her about how hard of a time I have working with my boss. And she told me, "you do know she thinks the world of you, right?" The AP chimed in saying "yeah, she's always asking where you are, relying on you to do things." This shocked the crap out of me. Like, I literally may have turded my pants a little when I heard this. The reporter told me that my boss, like I said previously, just has a bad way of relating to people and has a hard time reassuring people of how positively she sees them. She agreed, she can be annoying and difficult to deal with like a case of the herps (well, she didn't say that; that was a self-drawn simile), but my boss is in a very difficult situation right now. Riding a spiral down from a demotion and a downsizing of her department that she manages, she has no control over the fate of her job at the station. Likely, she is freaking out herself and possibly taking it out on all of us. The reporter wisely told me that nothing is forever and until you can find out a way to change your circumstances, you need to make the experience what you want and need it to be and it never hurts to have compassion for ANYONE, even if it is the boss you dislike. She also reiterated something I truly believe in, and that is the fact that I sincerely believe things happen for a reason. I am not religious, but I do believe in a higher power that is pushing my life in certain directions; I can't think of any other way that my life has been this blessed and good.

So there you go. Things aren't as bad as you think they are. I thought my boss thought I was the biggest, laziest dumbass in the world, but turns out she actually likes me. She even admitted to me this morning that she has come to rely on me and congratulated me when I was offered the chance to write for the weekend news (which sucks because that means I have to work on the weekend, but hey, whatever). And, I never stopped to stand in her shoes and think about why she's the way she is and I never stopped to give her some compassion and empathy.

I guess there's two lessons here: as a follow up to yesterday's lesson of not taking life too seriously, also look at your life and see that things aren't always as bad as you make them out to be at surface value. And also, always be kind. Always have compassion. Almost everyone deserves that.

Lesson 2.5: Fridays are the best.

Love,

P

Bernhoft - Choices

Shake it Out, Shake it Out

So if you haven't noticed, I've given my blog a quick face-lift and have also decided to take my blog in a different direction. Don't worry--if you are one of my few readers who actually enjoys reading about my life and whatnot, those posts are still gonna make it on here, but the main focus of my blog now is to teach my future child(ren) lessons from my life.

I know, I know, I know, I always say that I hate kids, that I'm horrible with children, and that I don't want them, but the more I think about it, I believe I'll end up with at least one. Part of the fun in having a kid, at least to me, is nurturing another person to become someone better than you are, to educate them on the best way to lead a life--and that's what I'm hoping to do. In the process, I'm sure I'll learn a lot more about myself and how I choose to live. I'm no genius or licensed life coach, but my family and friends have taught me more than four years of a really expensive private college education and it is my hope that whatever fruits that fall from my loins can reap the benefits of the fortunes and lessons that have been given to me by all who enrich my life.

So here's the start of an online anthology of what I hope will give my future son, daughter, or maybe a dog, a brighter and self-assured outlook on a life that is bound to be difficult, frustrating, wonderful, enlightening, saddening, joyous, crazy, and most of all...worth it.

Here's lesson 1:

Don't take life too seriously--especially your work life. Son/daughter/Spot, when you start your first job in the real world, as many people have wisely told me, you are going to encounter the BIGGEST douches of your life. They will annoy you, they will pester you, they will micro-manage you, they will degrade you, and did I mention really annoy you? Case in point, my first boss at my first job. A super-traditional Chinese lady (who may or may not be like your future mom...let's hope not) who is irreverent, lacks any fiber of tact in her sinewy body, and I'm assuming with old age, can't seem to see past her sphere of professional work.

If I haven't told you already, kid, my first job is an associate producer with the local news in San Francisco. You may or may not choose to follow in my journalism footsteps, but a newsroom is a place where you need to see the big picture. You're producing several live shows a day and just because you get assigned one task doesn't mean you won't get pulled to another. So today, my boss told me to make calls to set up a story after our morning production meeting. Sure, cake. Make the calls, but no one's in the offices yet so I left voicemails, let my boss know, and went to work on writing some scripts for the show that she also assigned me. Cut to an hour later and a senior producer asks me to go out on a shoot with her. Gladly! Wipe to my boss calling me and asking me where I was when the producer I was with told her that I was leaving. My boss tells me to hurry back because I need to finish writing the scripts. Of course! Fade out. Fade in to me walking back to the newsroom and my boss immediately asking me if I had set up the stories yet. I reply that I've only been back a few minutes and haven't had a chance to check my voicemails. Transition to a reporter telling me to produce her voiceover for the five o'clock show which comes with several roadbumps. And finally a dramatic finish with me making deadline for the reporter's live-shot three minutes before air time. I'm patting myself on the back when my boss comes over and tells me she's been on the phone for ten minutes, set up the story from this morning and that I need to be more aggressive when setting something up. She reasoned "what if we needed to shoot that story today?" She touted how easily she was able to set up a shoot and harped on the fact that I had failed and that apparently was my only work for the day, as I should've been making calls up until I left for the shoot and not write the scripts she assigned me to write...or something.

I could've told her "hey lady. YOU gave me work to do while trying to pursue this story. YOU told me it didn't have to be turned for today. YOU told me to produce the reporter's VO. YOU told me to work on other things. Why is it MY fault that I had no time to set-up an interview?YOU apparently had the time, so why didn't YOU take the initiative and do it yourself in the first place? SURE I should be more aggressive, but I need TIME to be aggressive." Now that would've felt good to say, but I didn't of course. Because, my child, your father has self-control. And, I would've gotten fired.

But here's where the real lesson is. In the workplace, sometimes you have to drop your feelings at the door. No matter what industry it is. No matter how passionate you are about your job, how much you love your coworkers, you're likely going to fuck up or be in a position where you feel attacked and feel like you've been wronged when you shouldn't have to. But that's life, buddy. You just have to learn to bite your tongue, maybe even until it bleeds, because the truth of the matter is, you're not getting paid to have someone be nice to you. Sometimes, you'll need to look at it as your boss trying to better you--being hard on you because she wants you to be better. Sure, it may not be the most constructive way, but to each their own right? There's probably a reason why your boss is your boss. You don't have to agree with how you're treated, but what you have to do is not take everything to heart (and believe me, that's hard to do, especially if you have my blood in your veins, 'cause your pop-pop is a crier and a very very sensitive man) and believe that no matter how much you feel like punching your boss in the ovaries and titty-slapping her boobs, it's a learning experience and probably most of the time, your boss doesn't mean to sound like a douche. Some people just never learn how to speak to others in a way that is both constructive and polite. So give people a chance, don't sweat it, and keep your mouth shut. Take solace in the fact that once YOU get up to the top, you'll treat your colleagues better. You'll be better. And maybe, once you're at the top, you can look back and say 'thank you. thank you for being an asshole.' Because your boss being an asshole just might've helped you to where you wanna be.

All the best m'boy/girl/puppy.

Much love. Enjoy the first lesson.

Florence + the Machine - Shake it Out

Waiting for a Ride in the Dark

'ELLO! So it's been a while since I've blogged! Nothing too new going on in my life, but I've been contemplating a lot of things about my life lately. Starting to re-evaluate my desires of being in the news industry and my feelings about the news world in general. So if you're not ready to read rambling horribly written stream-of-consciousness the Sound and the Fury shit, then you should probably hit the back button and go read some Married to the Sea comics or something (because THEY're hilarious; I read them all the way home on the bus today and chuckled so much someone got up from the seat next to me and literally scurried away...that and I had my wiener out....jk...sorta).

Anyways, it's been about two months into this job and I'm still not loving it, but it's tolerable and I'm really feeling like I'm learning a lot and garnering skills that are good to have (yeah, my sisters were right), albeit, I don't know how much I'll use them depending on where I want to end up, but it's definitely not a bad thing. But I think I've come to the realization that I don't think I can be in this industry for forever. It's too confining, too corporate, too manufactured--all things I don't think journalism should be. The more experiences I have in this job and in this field, I come to see that the news, at least on a local level is just not for me. I feel like I can't be myself and can't utilize who I am as a person to contribute as meaningfully as I'd like to.

I am passionate about journalism because I strongly believe in being informed, mining stories from people that the public wouldn't get to hear otherwise, and invigorating the minds of viewers and readers--as journalists, we are storytellers, raconteurs. At this station, I don't see this. On this level, we have become a business, a machine. From what I can see, we aggregate stories from other sources and regurgitate them. We don't hunt for the stories as regularly as I think we should--I feel we lack originality. Granted, maybe the intentions of my news director and the producers and the reporters are to create original and interesting content, but whether by business and monetary circumstances, the intentions aren't backed by anything substantive.

And I can't handle this whole corporate ladder feeling in the newsroom. My supervisor told me I'd have to play a lot of "office politics" to get ahead in this industry. But why?! For most who know me, I'm a horrible ass-kisser. I don't think your position and your stature in a company should dictate how much affected behavior and fake respect you should get. Your character, your proven work ethic, and your respect for others as far as I'm concerned, should be the only barometers for how much reverence you get from me. I shouldn't have to stick my nose up your anus and sniff your colon to get ahead. I should be recognized for my determination to be a good journalist, producer, writer, whatever role you need me for. Now there's a fine line between learning from those above you and forming a bond with them to get the best education you can and just being a tool and riding someone's dick to get ahead. The way I see it, if you learn and put your best foot forward and get ahead that way, you'll be way better off than the ass-kisser who got ahead with nothing to show for it. I'm not saying this newsroom is a horrible representation of this type of environment. I've met great people who have taken me under their wing, but there are also a good number of people eating crap for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and in-between-meal snacks to get on the higher-ups good sides. Sure, they may be the faves, but I can say that for myself, I can't go home and feel good about it.

I just can't wait to be in a leadership position where I treat interns like I treat my most experienced. I can't wait to treat a team like equals where people don't need to plot out their next move in the newsroom or office. I can't wait to be a kickass leader-man.

I also can't get with how ironically inhuman this industry is. I remember the first week I worked here, the executive producer was approached by our assignment editor who told him "a kid fell out his window, should we send a crew there?" And my EP's response? "did he die? I only care if he died." What? WHAT. I remember that moment vividly because that was one of the first times I've actually felt my heart drop. I couldn't believe I was part of the newsroom, part of the machine at that moment. And there have been numerous times when stories about death, about disaster, about true human experiences that my colleagues laugh-off as not "newsworthy" because it's not "sexy" enough, won't draw in enough viewers. I know it's the real world and if we don't get viewers we don't have a news program, but that's just my problem with it precisely. I know it's not a perfect world...but it's just not for me. This is why I think I'm so in love with documentary films. They tell stories that are compelling without sacrificing the human aspect. It tells a story that doesn't necessarily "matter" but it allows us as a people to more deeply connect by hearing a (wo)man's story. Journalism shouldn't be all about the fire that killed a mother of two, or that Target is eliminating Cadmium from their jewelry lines. It has it's place...but I guess it's not for me.

Anywayyysssss this is hella long and I hope you clicked back a long time ago because this is probably only interesting to read to me.

But I'll end this on a funny note that I mentioned on my Facebook.

I was going to the bathroom the other day to head back to my desk and my favorite producer (who unfortunately transferred to a station in San Diego today) was having a really animated discussion with a writer in which she decided to take off her cardigan. The problem was she was wearing a loose-fitting camisole underneath with no bra. So when she took off her cardigan her camisole almost came off and her right boob half slipped out. I just so happen to make eye contact with her right when I walked by and she gave me a very "ew, perv!" glare. It wasn't my fault! But I can see why she might think I was trying to sneak a peek at her bubbie.

I need to find some time to type up the other awkward stories that have happened to me here in the Bay Area...but until next time...

Happy weekend,

P

M83 - Midnight City

The Night Starts Here

HELLO HELLO!

Man, I am REALLY getting better at updating this thing quasi-regularly! Not sure why it matters, since I'm sure maybe one, sometimes two people read this thing, but I'm proud of myself anyways.

The problem with updating pretty regularly is that my life isn't really interesting enough to merit regular blog posts.

But I felt inspired today because I spent the most lovely weekend yet in San Francisco (AKA home #4) with thee Dennis Tat and Vicki Hupf! It's always great to see pieces of home (AKA Seattle/Renton) in a place you are starting to call home. I know I made a big deal about New York and everything, but Seattle and Renton will always hold the biggest pieces of my heart because that is where my family and where some of my bestest friends are.

Needless to say, I was incredibly excited to get a text from Dennis saying he was flying down for the weekend. Off to a rough start of Vicki and I waiting for forever to eat dinner at an Italian restaurant that allowed you to order off of iPads while killing time for Vicki to pick Dennis up from SFO, the weekend shaped up to be awesome! Vicki and Dennis ended up missing the last BART to Pleasanton so they crashed at my place and the night after, which turned out to be a blessing in disguise. We spent both nights staying up late, having great conversation, exploring San Fran, eating great food, walking more than we could handle, riding a quadricycle, having disappointing times at the gay clubs (super disappointing! we all agreed...aren't gay clubs supposed to be fun?), and just plain having fun.

After they left, I felt relieved. FINALLY. They're gone!

HA. Jk. No, it felt really weird. I somehow got into the groove of having my best friends around and then poof, gone.

This is really the first time I've had to move somewhere and truly be without a safety net and fend for myself in the friend-making field. There's no school or classes to even the playing field or push us into friendship and there's no residence hall to make us become live-in friends. It's a weird thing for me. I've already tried work and friends ain't gonna happen there, but since work is basically my whole life right now, what's a guy to do? I said before, I don't feel lonely, and I still don't, but having my friends here made me feel like I could be enjoying this city so much more.

So I guess I've kinda made an internal decision to try harder and make friends and not be content being so much of a loner. I've also come to an internal realization that I don't know if I'm the traveler that I thought I was before. Moving to New York and applying for jobs all over the country, I thought I could be happy living anywhere. But I think I have really overlooked what makes a place feel like home: your family and your friends. Of course, I've known this my entire life, but I think it took me living here to really get it. I've had the chance to live in four amazing cities so far and I don't know if I want to limit myself and stop seeing and experiencing these things, but I don't want to lose track of home. So I guess it's a little bit of a conundrum. I don't want to be far from my friends and family anymore, but I also want to experience beyond what I know and away from what I'm comfortable with. You only live once, and I want to make sure I really do live it up! I suppose it'll take a little more thinking and reflection on my part, but as I have said before, things do happen for a reason and you never know what tomorrow brings.

Sorry this posting wasn't very funny, and I actually do have some pretty funny stories about life in the Bay Area, but I am way too tired to keep writing. Vicki and Dennis kept me up ALL night these past couple days. Them having loud and obvious sex right next to me in my bedroom and all.

Boom,

Patrick

Stars - The Night Starts Here

Don't Give Up

Howdy all. I hope none of you have been anxiously awaiting this blog post, because as you all should know by now...I'm horrible at updating. So if you don't like it, you can suck it.

Anywho, work has gotten a bit better. I still won't say I'm in love with my job but it's a lot more tolerable. I actually get work to do and I don't sit at my desk for nine hours waiting for my shift to be over. I've been getting a crash course in producing which is great--I'm setting up stories, going out with photogs to shoot interviews and writing scripts. Granted, my scripts always get changed by the reporter before it actually airs and I make screw ups a journalism major shouldn't, but I'm keeping a positive attitude and using it as a learning experience.

Today was a doozy, though. I went with a photog out to Palo Alto to cover a school supplies swap with little direction as to what the angle or the upshot was. Apparently it was supposed to be less about the event itself, but how this event ties into the economy. This wasn't apparent to me, so I covered the story like a features event. Cut to me and the photog feeding the footage via satellite to the station an hour before air time (where we stationed ourselves next to a big stinky lake with cranes...seriously, the lake was beautiful but it smelled like one gigantic sour fart) and my executive producer grilling me about not asking the right questions, getting the right info, and plain ol' failing at producing the piece. So I feel like crap and my photog is like "I'm glad I'm not you!" Thanks...

Luckily, when I come back to the station with my tail between my legs, my boss tells me it's all good and the footage was actually okay--not the best it could've been, but air-able nonetheless. She ultimately apologizes for telling me off on the phone and said that she's only tough on me because she wants me to learn and that even though I went to a good school, the real world is going to teach me a lot more and in a lot more different way. So...in the end, I guess it worked out. She said I still did a decent job despite her complaints and I realized that as much as I dislike my boss for how condescending, curt, and abrasive she can be, I appreciate that she isn't babying me. It's tough love, I suppose. She runs our newsroom like my dad would. Hella Chinese and hella strict (she could definitely be my dad...if she just lost the feathered haircut and vagina) But she has her heart and our well-being at hand. I'm not going to say I'll like it, but I think I'll end up better for it.

As I said before, this isn't my dream job, but I am trying to make the most of it. It's been humbling and it's been rough, but things will get better I'm sure. I haven't had a lunch break yet this week, so let's hope that's my first improvement.

On another note, I need to stop eating apples in the company bathroom. My after work snack is a fuji apple. I time it. Every day at 5:56, I go to the kitchen, peel off the sticker, wash my apple, grab a paper towel and dry it off, return to my desk, log off my computer pack up, say goodbye, and go to the bathroom for a quick pee pee. But when I'm at the urinal, I like to have both hands free. I KNOW I only technically need one, but I like two...just for safety purposes. So I always put my apple in my mouth and chomp down and hold it there. This is a bad idea, though. On two occasions my apple has fallen out of my mouth and splashed me on the crotch with my own urine and dirty urinal water. One another few occasions, I tilt my head back to avoid situation one, but I end up drooling so much I choke a little. The news director has walked in on me once doing this. Needless to say, my apple eating and pee break combo needs a little rewiring.

So that's life so far. Nothing too exciting. Eating apples and peeing, getting yelled at. The glamorous life of a local news worker.

I saw Vicki today! Yay!

Also, please look out for cheap flights for me, please. Tickets are effa expensive for no reason and I wanna go home to Seattle to see everyone!

Can't wait for Friday-ly yours,

Patrick

The Cary Brothers - Don't Give Up

Remember all those times I was hoping for something, and shaking my head from all I have done? But you never left me.

I'm a little late early with my one-month anniversary in San Francisco, but I was reading through my old posts about New York and thought I should write a little. I think it's a great way to retain memories instead of cramming them all up in my noggin'.

So I've been living in San Francisco for about 28 days now and it's definitely not New York. I still miss NYC a lot, but San Francisco has been treating me well and I forgot how much I missed living on the west coast. NY is great, but it doesn't have the west coast culture--people are laid-back, generally more pleasant, and don't look like they are always dressed to impressed hence the laid-back-ness. The weather is nice and I suppose for now, I am happy I'm not in the sauna that is NYC.

Anyways, my job has been a rollercoaster (and you know how much I hate rollercoasters). I've gone through many emotional rides with it. The first week was great; everyone was incredibly welcoming and nice and were taking the time to train me and get me up to speed. Then the second week rolled around, and I must've become invisible because no one acknowledged me. I was barely getting work and was told to go around to producers to ask for work to do. I know I'm the biatch of the newsroom, but why do I need to beg for work to do? Third week rolled around and I called my sister on my lunch break and had an emotional breakdown about how miserable and trapped I was. But being the good big sister she is, she told me to buck up and go through with it and she told me something that really has stuck with me.

She told me that I have passion. She told me that my passion has led me to one coast and back and that I have devoted much of my life to journalism and the desire to tell the story of the people--of the downtrodden, of the inspirational, and the quirky. What she said got my heart racing. Yes, I do have passion and I know I should be grateful for the job I have and that of course it's going to take a while for me to get where I want to be...but this is just a stepping stone to get there. I won't be stuck in this job for forever. I think what really got to me is that I left New York for a job I'm not really crazy about. I don't know if it was the wrong choice--well, I know it wasn't the wrong choice, because as I've said, I believe everything happens for a reason. The nugget of goodness that has come out of this is that I've realized this line of work--production and writing for a local news program--is not for me. I want to be out in the field, interacting with people, hearing their stories, and bringing it live through the visual medium. It's not my passion, but hopefully this job will put me a step closer to getting to it.

Besides work really dominating my life, I've explored much of SF this almost-month. Every weekend I make it a point to not use public transportation and take two to six hour walks around the city, people watching, exploring, and getting lost. The only missing piece is having friends to do it with. My worst fears are confirmed: I have no friends here haha I consider myself a pretty sociable guy. I don't smell bad, I'm not particularly shy, and have you seen my face? I'm gorgeous (kidding!...sorta). But as I've told people, I don't know if I really miss not having friends here. It's weird. My days have broken up into me waking up around 7AM, working from 9AM to 6PM, going to the gym from 8ish to 9 or 9:30, a quick dinner and shower, some catching up on news and emails and then bed! By the weekend, I'm tired as balls I just sleep and roam around the city like a hoodlum. Plus, everyone at my work is either way older than me or we just don't have chemistry. So what's a hot guy like me to do? I don't know...but it's kind of refreshing trekking this journey solo.

Anyways, it's getting late, and I just wanted to give a quick update. I have some funny stories I'll post up soon. But I'm tired as your testicles and wanna pass the eff out.

I miss you all very much (I'm assuming everyone reading this is a friend/family member of mine...if you're not...that's weird) and you will hear from me soon!

Holla!

P-boy

Foster the People - I Would Do Anything For You

And Our Particles That Burn It All Because They Are For Each Other

So this is the end. It's 1:25AM on my very last day in New York City for who knows how long. In about six hours, I'll be in a shuttle van on my way to JFK. In about 9 hours, I'll be on a flight to Seattle. In about 16 hours, I'll be touching down at home. And yet, it still hasn't sunk in. It STILL feels like I'm going home for break and will be back in a few months.

In the past few days, I've had to say so many goodbyes and as I've repeatedly said before, it is honestly one of the hardest things I've had to do. I'm starting a new adventure soon, but I wish I could take the city and the people with me! But then I guess it wouldn't be all that new haha That's the exciting part, I suppose. Things are going to be so different and a part of me can't wait for it. There's also another part that is dreading it and wanting to stay in New York with the people who I have grown to love.

Of course, I'm also bat-shit excited to go home and see my family and friends, but in the back of my mind is that New York won't be on the radar for a while and that freaks me out. It's been four awesome years and I don't think I'm ready to let it go.

But, instead of having a pity-party for myself, I am just trying to ignore the sadness, and look on the bright side of things. My friends now have a new place to visit me in, I'm starting a new exciting career soon, and am going to experience incredible new things (or at least I hope I do!).

And I have so much to be grateful for. This city and everyone here have given me the opportunity to experience so many things that I'm sure I wouldn't have gotten to back home. I got to see lots of Broadway shows, meet the stars of my favorite TV shows, revel in the balls-out music scene the city provides, push myself into internship after internship, shoot a half-hour long documentary, and just all around have a blast! There is no city like New York City, and of that, I am sure.

It's been a wild ride. There have been times when I felt like I didn't belong here. There have been times when I felt at home. But no matter the feeling, I somehow always fell deeper in love with it. New York is my second home and I'm already homesick.

Four years. Four effing years have gone by so freaking fast. There are things I would've done differently and there are things that I wanted to do, but never did. But I don't believe in regrets, and I wouldn't have gone through these four years any differently. I worked my ass off, had a butt-load of fun, and met the most diverse, extremely talented, and all around awesome people.

I am so excited for myself and all of you for what is to come. Friends, family, the world is ours to explore and conquer. I know we'll all do great. Four years together, I know you all, and I know we'll all do amazingly. This goes for those in Seattle and New York. We're the bomb.com and there is no doubt in my mind that I have met the future pioneers of great things to come in our society.

On a closing note for this last entry (I know this entry is long and ramble-y, but I'm tired and have been packing all day), I want to leave you with a text message that one of my best friends David sent me after telling him I was an emotional wreck today. I hope he doesn't mind.

"That was really thoughtful of him! (I had just sent a picture of Obama riding through the streets after seeing Sister Act on Broadway) Patrick, I am so proud of you for following your heart and venturing to New York after high school. you have had magical, meaningful experiences greater than I can imagine. I am sure you will miss it a lot, but you are on the cusp of embarking on a journey, different and probably even greater than New York. I am excited for you to implement the skills you've cultivated for the past four years and effect positive change in the world we live in.

Allah knows there's a lot to be done. It is all right to be sad, but do not be too sad. You are going to blaze a bright trail ahead.

I know that I and everyone else here are ecstatic for your return."

I've know David since elementary school and although we didn't become really good friends until middle school, David has been a source of inspiration and undying support. This text literally brought tears to my eyes. And David is right. It's all good to be sad, but don't let it ruin your exit. You never know what tomorrow holds.

So here it is. It's the end of a chapter. But I'm ready. I'm at peace. And like my dad always says "if you put your mind to it, there's nothing you can't do." So here's a promise: I'll be back, New York. You'll see me someday again.

It's been real. It's been lovely and thank you again for the best years of my life. From early morning runs, to hours of Palladium brunch, to hellish internships, to awkward encounters in bars and fairs, to random roaming of the city, and to late nights of Sequence with best friends, the memories of this city are unforgettable.

New York, New York...

Much love,

Patrick

Florence + the Machine - Strangeness & Charm

And I'll Miss You Like You're Dead

Remember when I said that my leaving hasn't sunk in yet? Well, it still hasn't. Thank you to Teresa for a great going-away party for Sarah and me. I had such a wonderful time; it felt just like one of our regular get-togethers of great food (your crack brownies, Alyssa--you get me every time!), games of the drinking and non-drinking variety, and just amazing company with amazing people. It made me really realize how important all my friends and family are in my life and how everyone in my life has enriched everyday so much.

Everyone has asked me if I'm excited to move to San Francisco and my answer is always the same: I am, but I'm also a lot of other things. I'm anxious, I'm excited, I'm happy, I'm sad, I'm nervous--I'm a wreck basically. Like I've said in previous posts, I don't like to shed emotion to people around me--I hate vulnerability, so I apologize if I don't show how really crazed inside I truly feel. I'm so excited to go home to Seattle to see my friends and family and I'm excited to start a new chapter...but damn, it really sucks big donkey dick to have to leave the city and the people I have grown to love so much. How do you really get ready to say goodbye to a chapter of your life that has been absolutely life-changing? How do you rationalize parting with friends that are one-of-a-kind? How do you know if life-changing decisions are worth it--are right? This is what I struggle with. I've said this to so many before, but beyond simply being lonely and friendless in San Francisco, I'm afraid that the big jump to the other coast wasn't worth it, that the job is worthless, and that I am truly unhappy.

But I have all of my friends to thank for pulling me out of this uncharacteristic rut of self-depression. I have to thank all my friends for reassuring me that my time in San Francisco will be amazing, that I will have a new adventure to experience new things, and that if all else fails, I'm young and New York will always be there waiting for me. I have all of my friends and family to thank for being incredibly supportive and truly being there for me. I could not ask for better.

It is really strange to think that on Friday afternoon, I'll be landing at Sea-Tac International Airport with no real plans to go back to my second home. Even as I type this, it still doesn't feel like I'll be going.

I know this sounds really melodramatic, and I don't know how so many people do big moves and uproot themselves so much. It was hard enough for me to leave Seattle, and now I'm leaving New York? It really does break my heart a little to say goodbye so many times. Maybe I'm super sensitive, maybe I'm super-dramatic, but saying goodbye is never easy, at least for me.

But as many of you know, and as I may have mentioned previously, I am a strong believer in things happening for a reason, and as I think about it, the cosmic forces that may be, are pushing me to Cali for good reasons. I'm closer to home, I'll be closer to family, and I'll truly be foraying into a new life adventure. I have so much to be grateful for in my life, and no more so than the people in it who have helped me build an amazing, amazing, amazing 21+ years.

Walking to the subway station with Ece from Teresa's apartment, we talked about the quick passage of time. Four years in this city went by so quickly. Ece said she felt like she was a freshman just yesterday. I feel the same. I can still vividly recall moving into my crappy-ass room, the anxiety of getting perpetually lost, and the exhilaration of personal growth and independence.

NYU, New York, friends, family--you have no idea how fortunate I feel to have you sewn into the fabric of my life. You will not be forgotten and please know that despite the fact that I don't show it, I have true and sincere love and appreciation for you all. Sidewalks, buildings, bodies, and hearts--you are all amazing and have deeply and truly made me a better person. From a chubby, awkward and shy freshman to a self-assured, confident, optimistic and slightly less chubby alumnus, you have all had a part.

Please take this rinky-dink blog of which I did not intend to spill such thoughts and emotions as a thank you.

I don't really believe in "God" or consider myself religious, but I know that whatever forces that act upon me have been unbelievably fortuitous. I am blessed, I am lucky, I am happy. I don't know what I did to deserve such an amazing life.

Here's to today, here's to tomorrow and looking ahead.

Best,

P

William Fitzsimmons - So This Is Goodbye

I Will Love You Like This Now

So it's 1:26AM and I'm blogging. I am effing tired, but I realized that I haven't blogged in about four months, despite blogging more being a resolution of mine. Thanks a lot everyone, for keeping me on track. Some friends you are.

Anyways, I was inspired to blog because I had to say my first couple REAL goodbyes today. I said my first goodbye to an ex-boss-turned-mentor/friend at one of my internships who I've known for the past couple of years now. Wait, hold up, before I go on, you should know that if you are reading this and don't know why I'm saying goodbyes, you should know that I am moving to San Francisco in July for a job. Now back to the goodbyes. I had a great lunch at Basta Pasta, a restaurant that confused me from the get-go because it's an Italian restaurant but EVERY PERSON that works there is Japanese (Japtalian? Itapanese?) We had a great meal and talked about future plans and San Francisco because said boss used to live there. He assured me I would love San Fran, so let's hope he's right.

I said my second goodbye in Jersey to my amazingly sweet, funny, and weird friend Heidi at her and her sister's graduation party. This is my third party at the Heidi household and it never disappoints. Let me tell you, Heidi's mom makes these balls that I could keep in my mouth forever. Can't get enough of Heidi's mom's balls. I'm drooling just thinking about it. Oh, and Heidi's friend brought over jizz-in-your-pants worthy chocolate chip cookies. Oh my. The stains are never going to come out. And Heidi's peanut butter ice-cream pie. Don't even get me started! It's like Heidi's pie jumped in my mouth and said "shh, don't worry, I'll take care of everything" and rocked the hell out of my world. Heidi's pie...that sounds weird.

Anyways, as me and the rest of my from-NY party-goers rushed to get to the bus station for a bus back to Manhattan, I gave Heidi a quick hug and goodbye and it hit me: I'm leaving in a week and I have to say goodbye!

I don't think it's really sunk in that I'm leaving. I really don't. A few weeks ago when I got the job offer in San Fran I was excited as all get-out and the 24th of June seemed so far away, and now, it's less than a week away. I have to say goodbye to the amazing friends I've made, to the city that has fostered an immense growth and maturation in me, and to the best four years of my life. And even as I write this, I still don't feel like I'm leaving. I'm not sure when it will it-- when it will hit that this will be the last time I see my old boss and see Heidi for a while. When I got this job offer, I was so excited, now it's just bittersweet.

For those who know me, I think people will agree that I try to have an optimistic outlook on life, and I'm definitely trying to keep it going. I'm treating leaving NY and moving to SF as a new adventure. I had four years to grow up and experience one of the most exciting and awesome places in the world, and who knows? SF might even be better.

But right now, it's hard not only for me to believe that when I get on that westward-bound plane next Friday that I won't be coming back to my home for the last four years anytime soon, but also that I have to leave the fantastic people I've become close to. I feel like I did when I left home for NYU and for those of you who saw me the night I got on my flight from Seattle, you saw how much I cried. I'm not going to front and say that I'm a manly-man and don't cry, because I do. I cry. I cry a lot. I'm sure when the time comes, tears will fall. I have a hard time wanting to show my emotions and getting emotionally intimate with people, so when I cry, you know shit is going down. I know people go through this ALL the time, but that doesn't mean it isn't hard.

Anyways, I feel like I'm ranting right now, but I guess I just want to say a few more things: don't take the people in your lives for granted, because as I've learned, you never know when they will not be in your lives (at least for a while); savor your home, wherever it is, because every home has something to offer and like your friends, you never know when you will leave it; and to resolve to keep your friends and home in your lives no matter where you are. I have two homes, soon to be three with friends and friends-to-be-made.

I didn't mean to get sentimental on all your asses and I'm sorry if this made absolutely no sense. I'm tired as balls and feeling a little blue, a little excited, a little anxious, and a little horny. I guess I mostly just wanna say, like Jim from the Office did when Michael left: "Sometimes, goodbyes are a bitch."

-P

*Thao Nguyen with the Get Down Stay Down - Cool Yourself (As heard in American Teacher by Vanessa Roth--watch it when it comes out!)

But I Set Fire to the Rain

So I've come to realize that I really suck at updating this blog. Also, this blog is really ugly.

Life has been pretty uneventful since my last blog post besides some really random angry thoughts I've been having.

1. Certain people shouldn't be allowed to walk. Not like, being confined to a wheelchair or something, but they just shouldn't have the permission to walk on New York City sidewalks, namely:

-Old people, both of the single and couple variety

-Young people, mainly of the couple variety but also of the slow, aimless, dumbass variety. A couple holding hands is like an elephant trying to have sex with a mouse. It's basically physically impossible for there to be enough space. And, the elephant ruins the mouse so much that no one else can enjoy it (I'm aware that elephants are afraid of mice, but animal sex is animal sex, right?). Couples are like a phalanx. An impenetrable phalanx.

-Parents with young children. If your three-year-old cannot keep up with the rest of us he deserves a stroller.

And especially Asian tourists. Oh my goodness. It's like an annoying new species of humans that darwinistically has survived because of how annoying they are. I guess I should just say that tourists in general are the main obstacle to free-flowing sidewalk traffic, but Asian ones...well...I'm Asian so I can say this...but they are the worst. Snippity-snap with their cameras at EVERYTHING. It's like EVERYTHING is amazing to them. Empire State? Okay, pretty cool. A random cool looking building? Okay, I'll give you that; New York has some amazing architecture. But your teenage daughter in front of a fire hydrant? No. No! If you wanted a peed on piece of metal on the sidewalk, just ask me. I'll do it, for you! I will throw some change on the floor and piss on it for you. You don't need to stop my trek to class to take this picture. You just don't.

2. Really fit people going to the gym. This is just a stupid, menial angry thought, but I always feel like really fit people are somehow showing off. Coming to the gym in their cut-off shirts, sports bras and spandex and full-body length sleeve holes and amazingly chiseled bodies. Really? Cover that up! I know, I shouldn't be angry at people for being way hot and fit, but man. Wear a cow suit or something so I don't feel so ridiculous next to you.

3. Snow. I never thought snow would lose its child-like appeal, but it does. It does when it falls heavy and hard. I've had my share of white stuff to the face (nah, not really! Just wanted to make that joke.), but really though, icy-ass snow hurts when it hits you in the kisser. Combined with the windtunnels that are New York City, it's like Frosty the Snowman jizzing on my face. And I hate it when snow doesn't make up its mind. If it's all drizzly and stuff. It's like being a sissy about it. If you want to rape NYC, mother nature, do it! Don't half-ass it.

I just wanted to complain. Just some thoughts lodged in my head for the past while.

Besides anger though, I've actually been great! This semester has given me much more free time, I'm enjoying my classes for the most part AND I just got to partake in a restaurant week dinner, a friend's birthday party, and RA Soiree. Pretty quality if I do say so myself.

Love,

P

*Adele-Set Fire to the Rain

I've been right; I've been left

So all my ones of readers must be DYING to read this newest blog post! I mean, it HAS been about two years since my last post. Wait, what? Two years? My bad.



In case you're wondering, keeping a blog was one of my quasi-New Year's Resolutions. I never keep them, so don't keep your hopes up. Shall we take a brief retrospect to take a look back at failed resolutions? Let's.

1. Get in better shape. Unless spherical and fatter are new shapes, this did not happen.

2. Learn to play a musical instrument. Not a total fail. I've definitely racked up some impressive hours on Rock Band.

3. Getting with your mom. HEY OH! Dreams do come true.

Well, that's really it. I don't really make resolutions because I know I'll give up on them anyways. Why disappoint myself? I'm happy enough without having to take a WHOLE year to improve one thing to make myself an eensy bit happier.



So onto why start my blog up again. Well, it's my last semester at NYU and quite possibly my last semester of school and last semester living in this glorious city. Not to get hormonal-PMS-girl on your asses, but it's REALLY sad that this chapter of my life is almost over. I think of coming to NYU as one of the best and riskiest decisions I've made in my young life. I decided to come here based on 1. An acceptance letter (which I never actually really got, more like a phone call in my AP Econ class) 2. A desire for a new adventure



In a few months, I'll be graduating and getting my butt kicked by the real world, and I thought I'd do myself a service (and honestly, I know y'all like reading this, so I'm expecting some pleases and thank yous and bjs) and actually try to remember what happened in my last days at NYU.



But...nothing really exciting has happened since I've been back (it's only been four days...I'm not THAT exciting. I'm not Justin Bieber. No one cares about my struggle to get to the top...people told me no and I still made it. But do I get a record deal? Do millions of boys adopt my androgynous boy-girl haircut? No! NO!), so I'll regale my five or so readers with a story that my friends back home seemed to like. It involves a red wool sweater and a gay club. Did I peak your interest? Yeah, I didn't think so =/



SO. I thought I had the perfect plan. I had been invited to go to a bar and then (gay) clubbing afterwards. Now, for anyone who knows me, I'm not much of a party animal. EXCEPT, I was a party MONSTER the day before this story happens, staying at my friend Karina's house until 4AM dancing to 90s music. Now, I had my share of homoerotic dancing at Karina's, but that don't mean I'm up for two days of it in a row.



Being the clever boy that I am, I wore this:



Yes, I know, not good club attire (and probably not great bar attire either), but that was the point! I had asked one my sisters for this for my birthday, because as she likes to say, my fashion sense is a cross between old man and preppy. Fairly accurate.

I thought that if I wore this wool sweater, I'd be fool proof. I can't club in a wool sweater AND even if I did end up going (spoiler alert: I end up going) no one would find me attractive and I wouldn't get molested and stuff. I also chose not to wear an undershirt so that I'd have an excuse to have to keep my sweater on and have yet another reason to not go to the club. Perfect, no? It gets better! I ended up driving three friends, two of which were not totally game to go, and since I was their ride, they could be my scapegoats. At this point, I think I've built an impermeable fortress of excuses to protect me from the club.

Cut to Unicorn, a Seattle bar apparently known for its hot dogs or something. All I wanted to know was what was in their drink Unicorn Jizz. But anyways, I'm having a gay 'ol time (well, not yet) and long story short, I end up going to the club, confusingly named "R Place." I guess it's a pun on like, "Hey, after the bar, you wanna go to our place?" "Sure!" when really it should be "Hey, I wanna get porked later tonight after the bar; wanna go to R Place?" "Sure!" It's confusing, really.

Ten minutes later, I'm waiting in line to get into R Place. Everyone's wearing nice clubbing outfits and there I am, Cosby Sweater-ed out. Paying the seven dollar cover, we all head in and some of my friends find the coat check. No need to ask me though, because my 100% wool sweater has kept me warm in the Seattle winter weather. My wool sweater is my plan going awry and jacket in one!

Fade to the top floor of this three-story establishment where guys and gals of all different varieties are gyrating, sweating, drinking, oogling, and filling the relatively small dancefloor like a can of sardines. I spotted a pretty open spot on the dance floor, but of course we don't choose to dance there, rather the most crowded area between two go-go dancers donning only white briefs. Now, when I say it's crowded, I mean it. I wouldn't say I really "danced," but more just stood there and let the crowd sway me back and forth. I couldn't really talk to my friends either, more just make awkward faces to communicate. I think a wink and furrowed eyebrows meant the go-go dancers junk was getting too close to my face and was gonna boink my eye out.

The night basically went on in this fashion:
Awkwardly not-dancing,
Sweating profusely,
Getting pushed so guys could crowd around my other more desirable friends,
Being grossed out by how sweaty the go-go dancers were

Not much else happened during my stay at R Place until the last ten or so minutes. I had made a previous promise to a friend that we'd leave R Place at 12:30AM so that she could, very ironically, get a hot dog at one of the late night vendors that surface for drunken bar and club goers (we ultimately failed at this, meaning that the day after, after a hot-dog nostalgia filled conversation, my friends went to Denny's where I ,to my chagrin, also went while I had also appropriately wore Spongebob pj bottoms...yet no one got a hotdog.).

12:30AM on the dot, I tell my friend that it's time to leave. She, however, has her coat in the coatcheck, which, if you forgot, I didn't need because of my wool SWEATer. I told her I'd meet her and my friends downstairs after I said bye to another friend still dancing it up. This, however, left me pretty alone.

Now this is where the meat (pun intended) of the story happens. I'm standing, stationary, moving my head like a periscope scanning the sweaty masses to find my friend. Then I feel it. Two hands on my hips. Now, I had grown accustomed to this during my short time at R Place, because that was the typical way people moved you around the dance floor in pursuit of their next dance prey. So I let it happen. When I didn't feel the hands transfer my body to a different spot on the dance floor, I knew something was wrong. Then, I felt two more hands, this pair grabbing onto my chesticles. Four hands? Was I getting gropped by half a spider? A four-armed monkey? I was a little in disbelief. I don't need to remind you what I was wearing, do I? So I froze; I was freaked! The quatro-handed beast (which I eventually found out was a white and latino couple wanting me to get freaky with them) went crazy over my body and remember when I said the dance floor was crowded? So much so, I couldn't find a way off the floor. The hands were rubbing so crazy--it was like they wanted to catch me on fire or create the biggest static shock ever. Maybe they just thought I was a stuffed animal?

But relief! I find one of my friends. I try to tell her that I really need to leave. She comes up to me and starts dancing with me, inadvertently pushing me into the couple feeling me up. The couple took it as a "I want it! Give it to me!" gesture and proceed to grope harder and faster, and then I felt two things. Two fingers trying to drive themselves in between my butt cheeks. Let's let that sink in (not the fingers in my butt...just the imagery). It was like they were trying to conduct a dance floor prostate exam. I stiffened (not that part, you pervs) and told my friend again "We NEED to go now!" and she bravely grabbed my arm and we pushed our way through the crowd to salvation.

That's basically it. Epic story? Eh, but pretty entertaining. I hope you find my body's violation somewhat fun to read.

Man, I totally suck. I wanted to start this blog again so I could remember my last semester at NYU, but instead write about getting almost-fingered at a gay club in Seattle.

All the best my friends!

*Middle Class Rut- New Low