I feel hollow tonight - perhaps it was my late night adventure from Friday that has resulted in me feeling this way. I became a night owl thanks to my friend who took me to my first Prop experience in the city. This event started off quietly, but as the night's hours unraveled it turned into a most beautiful symphony.
Women everywhere - and attractive women. I realized that this was my moment and I soaked it in. I'm sure to have countless more moments, but this was one that stamped my mind and soul. You left your mark on me, it's permanent - a tattoo.
I met Randi on line for the bathroom. The pounding music made it hard to hear her, but I was drawn in - her face released sensuality, her hair made me want to run my hands through it. I'm not sure who made the first move, but before I knew it we were sitting on one of the couches, soaking in intense looks and then our lips found each others like magnets.
I went home with Randi - something I've never done. And I don't plan on ever doing it again. It's not me. I thought I could handle it, but for not even completely giving myself over, I feel stark. I found myself looking over at Randi while she slept and thinking to myself, 'so cute.' I'll text her tomorrow - I wouldn't mind seeing her again, learning more about her and having fun. I need fun right now and yet, there's a minute part of me that is saying you need seriousness.
I've never been easy on myself - in fact I've been absolutely brutal. Ironic considering the signature on my e-mail account Be gentle with yourself. Everyone deserves a little tenderness, especially from themselves. I find myself pushing for answers rather than simply letting go. But at the same time, I am painfully relaxed. Calm on the surface, paddling like the dickens underneath. When I met Milena at Stiletto for our first brunch after meeting, she commented on this side of me. She noticed how calm I was at one point and then how I would tense up the next. She went to massage my shoulders and I instantly put up my shell - X-men style.
But the hollow feeling might also be rooted to my work. I have been afraid to open up this can of worms for awhile, but it's almost impossible not to. I work for a major sports network as a Broadcast Associate - something most people who work in the industry would do anything for. I'm very lucky. Or am I? I find myself getting lost in my work - questioning my passion for my work - and then also silently freaking out what my life would be like without it. The intensity level of my job is the only drug (not including alcohol) I need.
There are a few paths my job could take this August and I'm hoping it's a similar one to last year, but in a new role. One role I do not want, is the road crew Broadcast Associate. Being on the road 3 to 4 days of the week just doesn't sound appealing to me - a different city every time. Living out of a suitcase. It just doesn't scream fun to me. I guess if it does happen, I cannot turn it down - I have no choice, because it is my career. And that's the path my boss selected for me. I will embrace the challenge, but I know for a fact I'll be out of my comfort zone. Though as my friend who took me to Prop last night said about doing things outside our comfort zones, we open ourselves to something magical. She's pretty smart.
People keep saying to me, "You are so lucky to have a job that is your passion. A job that you want." Hmm.. do I? The hours are brutally intense, the 6 day weeks and more often than not working from home on your off day - it's not entirely fun. I have been spending a lot of time with my nephew in my hiatus and it's a blessing, but I'm getting sad at the thought with my schedule returning - I won't be able to spend nearly as much time with him, my sister and brother in law that I would like. He'll grow and take steps without me. I don't like that feeling.
My passion is documentary film - at least I think it is. I have a lot of passions (laughter, food, music, movies and writing are a few). I was very adventurous and the first one to push the envelope in college and grad school. In my mid-twenties I became, I don't want to say mature or responsible, I'll say, different. Perhaps it was the moving home with your parents and simply feeling as if there were rules to follow. But that was then.
My passion, my heartbeat. The more I think about it, I truly believe I may have missed my calling (though it's never too late) as a teacher. One of my tape runners that helped me out during the NCAA Basketball tournament told me I would make a terrific teacher - patient, funny, thoughtful, thorough in explaining things, etc. I have always loved helping people, I love seeing the smiles on people's faces when they see a wheelchair ramp made for them; or seeing the smile on a kid's face when he finally hit his first forehand over the net in tennis after I had worked with him on it.
I saw a commercial tonight that struck me and maybe it was because it was about Harlem - Randi lives in Harlem - but it was more than that. It was a commercial that featured a man whose goal it was to change Harlem, one block at a time. You saw kids painting murals with teachers, kids in school with their hands raised up excitedly and of course playground time. I instantly felt drawn and was trying to think about how this would be more rewarding than my job.
What I should have done in the early part of my hiatus was look up charity work in New Jersey and New York - maybe a LGBT teen center or a habitat for humanity or even the Food Bank. My days would have been filled with a bit more excitement and I'd be giving back. Nothing finer. Maybe when I move into nyc, I will look into an organization where I could volunteer on my day off.
It's not that I am scattered and torn about, I simply need more in my life to quench my thirst.
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