What's all this, then?

Work continues on the secret project, though I can't say it's going fast enough for my tastes.

Get moving, guy!

OH WAIT - that's me.

(I keep pushing the due date because I don't think we'll get it done otherwise.)

So Mike and Mikki threw a little party this past weekend - it was a wedding, I think? Oh yes, it was a wedding. They got married. It was pretty cool. It was a ton of fun for all of us guests as well (Heck, I even wound up on the dance floor at one point - though it was definitely Mayra who was on her feet for the entire afternoon) and it was great to see everybody for more than one day at a time. It's too rare that we get together for more than an evening.

Congrats to Mike and Mikki, two of my great friends. I love 'em both.

(And don't forget - November 1st, ladies & gentlemen. Big things are happening.)

The City Life (Or A Lack Thereof)

Life in the suburbs isn't so bad; There are things to do when I'm bored, and there's a decided lack of chaos when I want to relax. I've lived in the suburbs for my entire life (outside of the college excursion.) It's nice, it's simple, and I like it.

But man, have you been to the city? There are people and concerts and food and awesome.

I didn't really spend much time in the city until my college days (and since I was three hours from home, I was only able to take trips into Manhattan on long weekends or vacations), and even then it was generally just to go to a concert and then come right home. But things changed. Post-college I started an internship at a casual games company that had me taking the train in five days a week. Bryan had also recently moved into the city, so I'd hang out with him and he'd show me around every once in a while.

Then I started meeting college friends since it was the easiest place for everybody to go to. Then my friends started moving into the five boroughs. Then Mayra's friends started moving too. By this point my initial disinterest/disdain for the city had eroded into genuine enthusiasm. It's at the point these days where I'm thrilled to spend an evening eating at a whole in the wall, drinking at a dive bar, and wandering the streets.

I'm sounding like a regular member of the bridge and tunnel crowd now.

To go off on a tangent, I should mention that Bryan's a great guy. Have I mentioned this before? He is. One immediate (and related) example of how he's a nice guy is the way he's always letting me know that I can just crash at his place if I'm ever in the city. I had done it a few times when I was working down in Chinatown (I got a whole extra hour of sleep by doing that) but aside from those occasional times that I had planned ahead for, I never had any real crazy nights where I needed a place to stay.

Until the past couple of months, apparently.

On two separate occasions, I wound up having such a great time hopping around from place to place that I crashed at Bryan's when I had planned on coming home instead. The first night involved Dylan and I coming in for dinner on a work night and then hours later coming back home with just enough time to get breakfast and shower before going right back to work. The second night (weeks later) was a milestone, as Mayra was able to stay away from home for the first time in years. We got a little drunk at a party for her friends, grabbed some Papaya Dog, then stumbled back to Bryan's place at three in the morning. Needless to say, it was an awesome time (the morning after on the other hand...)

So anyway, last night Mayra and I were in the city for drinks with her friends yet again. This time, we were good kids and left early to catch the last train back home at around 1:30. And it kind of sucked.

And it's got me thinking: Why are we doing this? The night is just getting started around 12 or 1, and there's nothing worse than having a great time in the city and then having to dedicate an hour and a half to getting back home. Catching the train means missing the second round of drinks, the last act of a concert, or the late night snack. It means being the old folks who need to get home early (even if you still don't get home until late.) It means leaving the city that never sleeps and heading back to the city that went to sleep hours before.

Now I know I'm being silly - it's not like things are so bad here. My job is here. Many of my friends. My family lives here. I can afford the rent here!

And there are plenty of bars and late-night pizza places that are open until 4. It's not like the life of a twenty-something is boring here in the suburbs.

But it's not New York City.

Birthdays, Plans, and Imagined Memories

It's currently 3:07 AM Sunday morning and I'm calling an official end to my birthday festivities. Things kicked off this past Thursday (my actual birthday) with a homemade pizza dinner with Mayra and my parents. We then went out to the downtown bars for a few drinks and wound up staying out way later than I had planned. A few hours later I was up for a day of work that I'm embarrassed to admit was a bit more of a blur than I would have liked. Friday evening I had a special dinner of sopes with Mayra's family and then passed out in Mayra's bed instead of going to the movies like we had planned. Today was the official "party," as people actually came by to celebrate and we did the whole huge dinner/opening presents thing.

Sure, Mayra and I are heading into Queens to grab some dinner with Terry and Micah tomorrow evening (okay, technically later tonight), so I could call that as part of the celebration, but I figure I shouldn't try and get greedy. I've had a real blast the past 72 hours and I think I'm good. I've had a great time with my family, had a blast with my friends, and been able to spend many hours with the woman I love. Couldn't ask for a better birthday.

I've decided that in my twenty-fifth year, I want to increase my creative output to the point where I actually output things I've created more often than "once or twice in a year if I'm lucky." I want to finish games, write stories, and God, do I ever wish I could draw again. I'm going to try and set aside more time for these forms of entertainment where all the fun is up to me, rather than relying so much on games, movies and books for prepared enjoyment. We'll see how this goes.

As I move past this (rather arbitrary) milestone and begin planning out what it means to me, it makes me think about how I dealt with the previous milestone of graduation from college and how I had imagined that would go. No real profound thoughts, just decompressing some things I've had in my head for ages.

I'll be honest by saying that I would occasionally day-dream about the idealized graduation scenario. I'd picture myself a little nervous but ultimately excited, Mayra by my side as I finished up my last remaining classes. I saw myself spending plenty of time with my friends, enjoying the last few weeks of our relatively consequence-free lifestyles. I could hear my family congratulating me as I met with them dressed in my cap and gown with my diploma in my hands. Things only became more romantic (I'm using that word in the classical sense) in my head when Mayra decided she would be studying abroad during my final semester at college, which meant she would be returning to the US just a few weeks before (or as I imagined it - just in time for) the end of my semester. I would go visit her during spring break and once she returned home she would come up and stay with me for the week leading up to graduation. I'd play these thoughts over and over again in my mind. It's a beautiful dream that's still vivid in my head to this very day.

Of course, it didn't happen like that at all. Yes, my family was there, but Bryan had accidentally planned out an overseas vacation at that time and had to miss my graduation weekend. Sure, I had plenty of time with my friends, but real life had claimed us far earlier than planned. And of course, Mayra wasn't there. She got sick less than a month into the first semester, and was just becoming acclimated to life outside of the hospital when graduation rolled around. (She did leave a voicemail on my phone wishing me a happy graduation. Mayra's simple message meant more to me than even I thought it would.)

I'm not angry or upset that this dream didn't become a reality. It's petty to take such matters personally. And besides, my last few weeks of school were filled with amazing memories that I often think back to. But I still think back to the idealized future I had in my head for so long. I always thought of myself as the kind of person who didn't get dragged along by his immature or overly specific dreams, but I had caught myself in the same trap as the girl who plans to have children by this year or the guy who enters school knowing from day one that he'll be a top physician.

And so as I look at where the rest of my twenties will take me (and even further than that), it's not just important to make sure that my roadmap has direction, but to also give it plenty of leeway and chances to move into other areas. If there's one thing I've learned in my twenty-four years that I'll make sure to remember in my twenty-fifth year, it's that your plans are always subject to change. Look to the future, reach for the stars, but don't be afraid to change things up.

(This post partially inspired by David Willis recently re-posting his old mini-series "Roomies: Is a Song Forever?", which first got me thinking about end-of-college scenarios back when I was first in college, and has gotten me reminiscing about it recently.)