Imagine a long vacation, in the middle of which you're sitting on a becah under a blue sky. An entire day goes by and you move only to go into the waves or to roll over. As the sun begins to drop below the horizon, the air grows slightly colder but your ray-drenched skin remains warm. Without even trying, you hold onto that feeling even as night descends and you find yourself elsewhere. That day of sloth stays with you, even as you drive back, even as you drag yourself up in the morning. It can be recalled with a simple smell, a subtle glance or the hue of the sky reflected in an office building.

I haven't taken a real vacation in over two years. It paid off, financially, in the end. It wasn't the best psychological decision, to be sure. Why the long intro? Well, I made it up to New York City this weekend, for a rare spot of R&R. I didn't actually have any expectations, which made the ensuing experience all the more rewarding when I turned out to have a great time. In a nutshell, I sampled several cuisines, met several interesting people, caught a show, visited a couple of museums, enjoyed a party, had some great conversations and hit the NYC nightlife at a variety of different locations. All in sub-freezing temperatures. All with witty companions, who managed to stay upbeat despite any stray monkey wrenches thrown in our path.

Few things make me feel quite so good as spontaneously adapting to odd situations, whether it be a closed restaurant, museum, or subway line. We managed to avoid getting in the wrong metro car, paying too much money for a small exhibit (well, some of us, anyway), found parking a block away from our desired destination on two separate occasions and upgraded our seats on-the-fly in the theatre after the fortuitous egress of half the balcony section a scant ten minutes into 'Chicago'. (An excellent musical I'd recommend to anyone!) If there were any negatives, the largest would probably be the height the bar will reside at the next time I'm invited back. But high expectations are good, no?

Which brings me back, full circle, to the intro. Much like my fictional day at the beach, I still feel really good, for no rational reason, hours after my absence from fun. I hope I feel this good tomorrow. For some reason my regular routine seems somewhat ruttish in comparison: I get up, work, do something silly in the afternoon and have dinner shortly thereafter. If it's a weekend, I might try to hang out with some friends. Perhaps the superiority of this weekend was simply a good mix of activities. I've now seen Jesus as a Mongol, enjoyed a mango-yogurt beverage (a lassi? perhaps?) from southern India, and decided that if I ever run a Moroccan themed lounge, I'd keep the music lower and the service quicker. Then again, maybe it was the mixed company, rather than activities. Sometimes it's nice to just get out of town and find a new locale to enjoy, new people to converse with. It's amazing how many times one can go out and hit a happy hour only to talk about the same old problems in shiny new boxes. It's nice to change up the topic, even if it means merely rotating from one person to another. Everyone likes to talk about themselves, right? Hell, this blog itself is like some sort of weird writer's crutch allowing me to voice opinions that I'd otherwise let silently lapse or bore someone to tears with at a social event.

The curious matter of this medium though, is that it's not really a personal or a public matter. Unlike a diary, I'm not going to list lots of names and provide specific times and places. I'm not going to share innermost secrets (how tiresome, eh?) or merely add my voice to an already loud chorus of people with too much time on their hands. Instead, I try to find some middle ground, some area where my personal experiences are indicative of larger trends, some original thoughts not already echoed by a million other monkeys with keyboards. I'm not searching for Shakespeare or the poor roman poets he ripped off: I'm just trying to let some steam off without picking sides. It would be easy, to be sure, to simply let loose on everyone and everything. I could name names, say what I really felt about certain people and policies, in much the way I do about our current administration.

Being a self-confessed hypocrite, I have no problem squaring my desire to talk about people I know behind their backs and yet display reluctance to do so online. Why the logical disconnect? There isn't any: I don't like evidence to link my opinions to myself. If I talk about someone behind their back, I don't expect it to get around. (And let's not kid ourselves, I hardly ever hold my opinions back, but in the end, all personal criticisms are slightly petty in nature, right?) But should someone I know peruse this page and read a point of view straight from the horse's mouth, it would be a little more inappropriate. I prefer the Jamesian method of talking around and around about a problem, especially with people who are not the subject, but rather close friends. If I hate the way T. does something, and T. is friends with S., U. and V., I'll simply talk to S., U. & V. and express my opinion. If they choose to pass it along in a discreet manner, so be it.

This has very little to do with my weekend. It feels cathartic, though. There are never enough people with enough time and enough space to have tons of really good conversations. Instead, we have to squeeze them into the available moments we have, even if those occur as infrequently as...well, let's just say that they're more infrequent than they used to be.

But that's going to change. This weekend was fun, and reminded me that I have things pretty good. I'm basically happy. But I'm not content. Contentment is for suckers. I hope I stay happy and grateful forever, but god help me if I ever become content. Things can always get better, in my mind, or I'm not aiming high enough. So if I had a good weekend this weekend, that's great, but next weekend should be better. If it's not, I'm not trying hard enough. Everything's overcomeable with enough effort.

Anyway, thanks for the chance to have a fantastic three days. Those involved rocked.