Emphasizing and recognizing others' strengths, as a boss, keeps people happier than harping on weaknesses or even trying to strengthen them. Same goes for you... instead of trying to attack weaknesses, stick with strengths and follow your bliss.

It's ok to yell at cabs trying to run you down.

Good coffee can cost $5 at Xandos... but more likely it costs .50 from a street vendor.

Go for the amazing. No need to patronize the mediocre in New York.

"They like when you pitch ideas."

People aren't always mean, just bombarded and too mentally full to smile sometimes.

The Strand has cheap used books. Tons of them.

Burritoville is a good $4.50 dinner.

It's here somewhere. It's New York.

When you're thirsty, you should drink more because your cells are dehydrated. Hungry? Eat more or your metabolism slows down. Slows down!!

Be gracious.

Every cool thing can't be in a guidebook. Or maybe it is somewhere, but not the one you have. So try the Groove on Tuesday nights. And bring an ID.

"Free your mind and the ass will follow." -- the lead singer at Groove

Buy toilet paper for the apartment. People like that.

A balanced meal is easier if you're not picky. Gardenburger? Baked beans? Mashed potatoes? Veggies with Salsa?

Dehydrated potatoes can indeed be used in place of flour or starch. But they will make your sauce taste potato-y.

It never hurts to ask... unless the person's mean.

Remember to bring I.D. with you. Not the magazine. But the mag's cool too.

Write letters... keep stamps handy.... and envelopes....

Take pictures, tooo.... your world through your own eyes.

When all else fails, wear baby socks with sneakers =)

There's a point at which your life gets too un-you.... push it if you can, see if it can become you.

When all else fails, plan a dog-off. (a roomie and I both had read up on dog breeds a long, long time ago and we wanted to see who could recognize the most from a dog book. this was somehow also a drinking game that never came to be).

Get to know your neighbors... any way you can. Company is good.

There's nothing wrong with moving at your own pace, as long as you have a reason for not rocketing to the top. Like happiness.

Zen is really what everyone should know about happiness. Every theory comes back to the openness and attentiveness of mind, a flow-like feeling of being absorbed into something other than yourself. A joy in the experience. Peace in the moment.

It's your time-- so do what you want, not just the most easily available or what everyone else wants you to do. If you wanna stay home, stay home. If you wanna go to the Met, go to the Met.

Evaluate based on quality, not your own fear. i.e. try new things... or don't, as long as you have some sense of the thing and not the people influencing you...

But other times it's good to screw the thing and cozy up with the people. You'll remember them long, long after you saw the Empire State building... oooo.... Just don't give up your desires to hang out in an apartment all day, or you'll one day look back and wish you'd done something else, after those people have all disowned you.

Try not to mistake misguided enthusiasm for passion. Enthusiasm. Passion. Temporary energy. Passion for the quality and aura....

Sleep can slow you down too much... physical activity revs up your body and puts it in gear for the day better than drugs, i.e. caffeine, can.

But good cappucino is a soother, too.... more healthy than smoking, anyway.

Smoking is cool because you're holding a stick of fire and exhaling smoke, plus breathing deep so you look laid-back. Great. But it still causes cancer.

"I have to stop smoking. I didn't get a buzz of that one. Altho it was an ultra light." Liz.

We don't neeeed no... educaaation....

Clothes on me don't matter to anyone as much as they matter to me.

My Karl Arbeiter quote is a hoax. Intervesting.

A binder works well to hold the proofs of mag pages.

Organize and plan for each issue, living on the edge does you no good. Flexibility with planning is better.

There's joy in well-kept gardens.

Parties are just a dream-rush for the body... let go of reality, it's ok.

Just because it's indie doesn't mean it sucks. Mainstream is meant to please the most people... not be the best thing out there.

"You don't have to look at Meg Ryan all day!!" The art guy ripping the page off my cube from the previous occupant

Never stand for having the life sucked out of you. Nothing, no amount of money or luxury or idealism in the WORLD is worth that.

The world is constantly changing, from the big bang to the moment of now... the earth is moving under our feet... gold rushed upon means nothing to this giant... it just keeps churning along, changing. In circles rotating.

"Yaw" and "Quiz" are good words to win on in Scrabble. Esp. if you get triple word scores (bastard).

No one's really a princess. But they may be in show biz.

Good-fitting pants are a daily joy.

So are sweaters with too-long sleeves. And cardigans. I need another cardigan.

Numbers may be invented, but they can be their own symphony of language, a way to communicate like English.

Technology amounts to nothing without smart people of all kinds getting in on it (i.e. badly written e-books) and ease-of-use.

I want a Screenfridge.

Rotato-Fridge anyone? The 2D model is waiting. Also: 2D in 3-D, the ultimate porn site. (2D was my apartment number... we came up with a fridge that has rotating shelves because ours was always jammed and we forgot about stuff in the back)

Possessions are so seductive... who wouldn't want MORE? But more stuff doesn't guarentee happiness... those big-ticket dreams might, tho. i.e. the Mercedes/John Deere that thrills you every time you see it. Even tho you can't afford it.

Money is relative. Who wants $105,000 when all the neighbors have $200,000? People are happier with $70,000 when everyone else has $50,000. Just goes to show you. Money sucks.

Journalism guarentees a life of learning. It's like being in school. And getting paid. Without the sucky exams. Just playing with words instead.

Blissed-out can happen anywhere. Like in the skychairs at a streetfair. In the sun.

A sunny apartment is a must for me. Dark and trendy/otherwise great just doesn't do it. I'll always be hankering for sunshine.

Somewhere in the world, news is happening, Washingtonpost.com. I promise.

America is just another country. Remember that. It's just a country. So is France. So is Canada. It's not life itself. It is a place. A set of philosophies, maybe, but to others, just a place on the map.

More than anything, I dream of driving around America taking pictures. Oh, yes.

Love your mom. No matter what. One day you'll turn into her. Oh, yes.

I miss Eric. Sometimes more than other times.

Almost two years with Patrick. Who would'a guessed, huh? He's like... something I once buried deep inside of me and wished for.

I will not be in New York City forever. I will not. I need to live it up. Up, up up. And record. And plan. And enjoy to the back teeeeeth.

But if the world should come to an end, wear sparkly make-up. That's what Liz did. She cracks me up.

Paxil just makes the world gray. It keeps too much seratonin in your system. After the synapse brings it out, Paxil keeps it from leaving. And that turns a roller-coaster ride into a Sunday drive. What kind of life is that? Anxiety can be relieved other ways, unless it's chronic and brought on by, well, the world we live in.

Tai chi looks damn cool.

Meditation is the way to be.

Ha.

And email Scrabble is a great way to learn new words. Lowery. Glowering!

Every day here is like a poem. Little Italy as I walked through the sparkle-streets in a black dress and Mary Janes, ready for the world to envelope me in its smells and tastes... I just wanted to bathe in the incense of its being... not the smog, not the cheap wine, but the very idea of a quilt like a neighborhood of cannolis and pasta. And little white lights in the garden. And waiters from Albania named Laert.

Every day here is like a poem. And yet sometimes I need to sleep and reabsorb it. Seratonin reuptake for the senses.

Mmmmm, cappucino from Ferrara.

One day I'll look back on this. But right now, I'm living this. Living it! Nothing to be pondered, but to be recognized. Because I'm halfway to Clarence, NY right now. And I just don't think I can take it, man. After this? Who'd ever want to leave. But always want to go back, indeed. With the NY Times as a local paper, how could you not, I ask. How could you not. Of course, I'm sharing everything with nine times as many people. The rambles aren't so rambling in Central Park, not like at Letchworth where a wrong move will land you in the local paper. And the pleasures, well, many of them are regulated. Rules rule. Otherwise it'd be anarchy. But for the loss of the spontaneous you also get more spontaneity, in the sheer numbers of people and whims to follow. It all just wraps you up. Like love. A place that loves you back. Without coddling, without jealousy, without fanfare and hand-holding. Like a good parent. It loves you back, underneath it all. On the outside it's a celebrity, barely conceding to give autographs. But once inside, it's like a stew... and if you're part of the stew, you're part of the love club, feeling the vibe. And the buzz. Buzz, buzz, buzz.

No, I don't know how, quite how, I can go back. My grandparents are the only reason, for real, that I miss Buffalo. There's nothing like a day at my grandparents' house. Funny. But it's the same feeling I get from being in NY. Someplace safe and familiar but completely explorable... someplace you could just spend forever in and never get bored with the toys in the attic and the places to relax. Someplace in the middle of it all but with plenty of smooth getaways.

That's my story.

There's a lot more to come.

Now, I should work. And drink my cappucino. As I work off the buzz from my Allegra. I guess. =)

I guess there comes a point at which you need to be abraded, scraped and terrorized with adventure because you've hidden from it, and you know it. Now is that time, when I'm looking for trouble and searching for the unforgetable...

Letting someone buy you drinks and cab rides tho they know you're taken isn't so bad...

Going to concerts by yourself means you might meet someone cool.

Splitting up the long-distance bill is like a murder mystery.

Independent bookstores show you things barnes would keep in the back room.

Go to MEETINGS even tho they may bore you to tears, they're creating subconscious maps of procedure. Playing the ditz but confirming you understand works well for interviews.... naive but intelligent... Fred and Maude in Iowa.... they're dumb but picky.

If a story has powerful emotional impact and a huge explanatory load, break into two stories to keep things easy to understand.

Consistancy is a virtue... Down to the tiny square at the end of an article.

The mag world isn't all about learning more in general. Learning each mag's inside lingo is more of a challenge and won't transfer, usually. Only so much of the basics you can take with you to soar in a new spot.

People were happier when they weren't ladder-climbing but enjoyed their jobs for their own sake.

Here, nothing is about status, really: Everyone's working at Newsweek. It's the enjoyment of the job. The Wallendas are the top-top editors. Not a ruling family but a balancing acrobat troupe.

"Good catch"... you'll get more if you keep being picky and causing trouble.

Knowing more about a subject, subconsciously, will bring tiny things to your attention. I.E. McLuhan mentioned multiple times in one issue. Must have a deep knowledge base.

If you're going to go all out for dinner, go all-out and don't cheat yourself.

I miss my web page.

I miss deanna.

I hated new york for about three weeks, and now i'm back in love.

Do the things of your dreams regardless of whether or not they're possible....

If you write good notes, they may just tell you to write the whole damn story.

Nothing says lovin' like a pan of blackened corn bread.

If you hang party decorations on your cieling, your apt. will look like a perpetual afterparty.

If something's missing, look in the bin where Amanda throws everyone's stuff.

Where's my driver's license? Who the hell knows.

Ask people stuff and they just might start chatting, and they just might give you reporting to do.

Seeing my name in print still gives me a kick.

Wander into local-looking coffee shops, unafraid to disrupt the environment of home... It may just wrap you up in the same warmth.

Sleep is akin to drinking alone.

Gin and tonic is pretty tasty.

Trendy discreet low-lit bars, like in the jeans commercials, just aren't for me.

you CAN wear a skirt with sneakers and tights and a cute wooly hat.

Drinking coffee all day may not be the BEST idea.

Mineral water is good, but if you're going to pick up a free one at the office, make sure you have a bottle opener, too.

Lots of writers just plain suck... Unfortunately I can't do much better, right now.

Here the object is fighting, tooth and nail, for a caption or a byline... other places value their writers and won't toss 6 months of work on a whim. I hope.

But those places may not pay so good.

I don't need the perks. I don't need a cafeteria, or a doorman, or a roomy office.... I just need good people around... a team.

New York bagels really are the best.

ASME internships may not be so easy to get, but we can cross our fingers.

Talking to real people is easier if you feel superior to them, i.e. the dolts who waited three hours for non-existent PlayStation 2s, knowing full well the situation sometimes.

TeenInk isn't a ripoff book. Wonder if my stuff got in.

Yes, Ms. Wilkes, things are quite rosy right now.

You know what, some dive bars are cool.... just depends on the scene. I.E. cherry tavern was fun. (geek punks in cowboy hats and sequins)

Dive bars are an analogy to frat parties. Who neeeeeds them when you're not into getting smashed or picked up.

Getting a cab: Step halfway into the street, look pretty, take off a glove and hold it high in the air in a nice 70 degree angle, looking confident and ready to go.

Some cabbies will try to charge you time and a half in EVANSTON. bull. shit, my cabbie friend.

Tipping for cabs is ten percent. Don't let them guilt trip you, they make decent money usually.

If you act just a leetle beet angry... people seem to make your life easier.

Janelle has a boy. She was picky and it paid off.

My tummy hurts.

Adam really missed me.

You can go back up through the tunnel when you rush the field.

Life is a rock, but the radio rolled me....

Slow down when you ask questions to allow your mind to wrap around what you're trying to say and make something intelligible. A little theater never hurt, either.

Alexis is the same.

Bitter coffee makes for a bitter morning.

Real, fresh cider from a farm and the market in Union Square is the perfect way to spend a Saturday morning. My grandparents always knew.

Andy's Cheepee's has a great t-shirt rack.

New York pizza should not be eaten without as much grease as humanly possible. It takes the New York out of it.

Whether or not you're a bloody aristocrat, you can act like one with a scratchy voice, a Britty accent and using words like "likewise" while smiling with no teeth really showing, talking really slow and moving gracefully.

Charge forth and demand things in America. People are used to it. Perhaps in Denmark not so much?

Medill alum connections rock. "Hey Brett!" at Starbucks... and the NU bar in NY is Blondie's.

If I'm ever rich and famous, I'm staying at the Hotel Chelsea baby. Oh yes.

When will New York run out of island to expand? Will it just consume the rural farmland with youngin's looking for the next up-and-coming neighborhood?

Don't take Nyack!!

Standing on a pier in Nyack with the leaves painting the banks of the Hudson river in broad and bright strokes, with Tracy and some Starbuck's coffee, her trying to get the carmel from the bottom of the cup, us just getting silly, stamping as a salsa dance, Amanda taking pictures of us in silly poses (like me getting kissed on the cheek)... eating in a tiny eclectic-looking lunch place with art on the walls and a waiter who's just a little bit slow, a little bit arrogant, a little bit not all there but with an edge of confidence so you barely notice...

Eating Kentucky pie with ice cream and stacked veggie sandwiches underneath musical instruments and bike-part clocks on the walls...

Amanda and I liking each other better now that we're with her....

After arguing on the train, hating each other, blaming the other for being late.... But Grand Central is huge... And Amanda felt like she needed to call and get the info while I found the right place to be.... it's all no one's fault, really. But we like to oversleep. And we're messy. And no amount of conditioning has yet changed that.

Sometimes I just run out of bars I don't want to be at.

I need to call the Wales kids.

But enjoy the street fairs blossoming outside your window, with their greasy knishes and tai for a buck, and fresh lemonade and pizza, mittens and sweaters stacked upon themselves, along with dirt-cheap socks and racks of cast-off designer crap... A sweet fall morning of elbowing to look at jewelry handmade, knowing you won't buy, hoping something will catch your eye so you can say you bought it at a street fair....

And dress up to go shopping so when you go in a club-kid boutique you fit right in, but don't buy anything because it's there, it's probably ready to fall apart, if you already own enough. Just hold on to the basics, because in New York, you can't really fit much more in your apartment.

And don't leave food lying around because the roaches, oh the roaches... One half-roach was enough for me and Amanda (me, mostly) to FLIP OUT. I saw one on the sidewalk and started screaming and running.

Cafe Dante has the best Cappucino Dante. Hmm.

How do you get people to answer your questions and call you back? Just keep calling them! Then they know you're serious and you're on a deadline.

PR people are truly the worst... public relations? Please.

I love just leaving my apartment and walking to the grocery store, or on a pie hunt, in the rain especially when it's just falling lightly with no wind, and everyone is clustered under eaves and their dogs are shaking themselves into whirring cylinders of fur.... girls are running over puddles, guys are striding along in suits with no umbrellas, the smug were all prepared... the streets are slimy with the rain mixed with the New York gunk, creating a sludge that coats the bottoms of your shoes, not-quite-clean... but a little cleaner, more pure than before.

Having a best friend to bring you take-out when you've been at work all day is the best anyone can ask for. Sammy's noodle!

"We haven't seen each other for two months and here we are..." walking through an Evanston tree-lined street, on the sidewalk holding hands... here we are.... his arm around me... here we are....

The field trip people don't remember me. But I remember them! Even when they're on the field.... Danielson! You back-up QB, you!

Old people are great. I have such prejudices.

Tara's in Chile. Hmm.

PAY ATTENTION, as my imac's error sound used to say.

Wonder where Allie is now.

Oh, Allie cat. How glad I am to not be near you, hope you're well, see you someday on TV. You'll get what you want, you can't lose. You're just a little bit angry, as you need to be around here, to not get stepped on in a country of millions, all vying for the same few pieces of the pie, all expected to elbow for the last bit of apple. Will you?

Life is a rock. But the radio rolled me.

There is no need to put up with shit (and this really was) from HBO PR people! They do NOT have to sit in on your phone conversations, that's just a power trip. "I'm one of the bitchier people here but feel free to slap them around a little in your article." Marc Peyser.

Obviously poli sci can't interest me very very much, since I ignored all editorial meetings during the election crisis.

The co-workers who take you out for drinks... that's the golden job.

Hey! You've got to hide your love a-wayyyy....

I've learned that you must assess the situation from the outside in, not from the tiny shivering/sweating bubble that monitors my heart but from the outside, the clear cool line between two people, that can be edged and tugged at with the fingertip in one way or another, the crisp TUG of the line can make all the difference, as you sweat away silently in the steam chamber of your lungs.

I think the above sounds profound and important but we all know it isn't.

People get uncomfortable when they can't hear/understand you.

All you need is love. And music. Sweet music.

Pick-a-bagel has great bagels and coffee... $3!

I've learned that a stellar resume won't do a fucking thing for you if you can't report a goddam story to save your life. Wright tight and bright!! Well, suck mine... I don't even know the best way to arrange the grafs! buro. thru. folo.

Singing to yourself on the subway either makes people smile or back away.

Talking to NYPD cops can sometimes be to your advantage, especially when you're trying to photograph a Bullwinkle balloon in the Macy's parade.

Stars go to Starbucks. Wonder why....

ABC Realty rents in the Willage.

You can get a good apt by having a credit report and checkbook in hand, along with a few weeks to hunt for the perfecto place.

Sometimes you just gotta dance.

I do have rhythm!

I'm sick of sitting in a chair all day, altho it can be done. it makes my knees hurt. esp when I keep bumping them on this stupid keyboard arm.

I miss having a deskmate. sandy was kickass. he told me all about freelancing, and how it sucks. he keeps a little chart of all the stories he has pitched and is working on at the moment. it's like a job. and he says he's a "journalist in new york city" when he's working on something. and he's got this home in the rural new york areas and this apt in the city, which I think is damn cool. and he went thru his credit report line by line to get the damages taken off. funny. and his wife is a something at lucky magazine, and he sends her flowers on her birthday, which is real cute. he gave me this huge list of travel places to pitch stories for if you want to be a travel journalist. he says it's really hard. and if you work for a canadian paper, you get shafted by the exchange rate. but just remember: internet adultery is more common than you may think. (his big feature story for a toronto paper)

wow, i'm on an energy rush right now, combo of the HUGE bagel from pick a bagel (highly recommend) and the sky-flavored snapple. snapple... why didn't you stick with the snapple lady? you were COOL THEN!!

had coffee too, that could also be contributing to this mad rush o' energy. wow, it's 3:42, cafeteria's closed and they had veggie chili in a breadbowl today. I can't believe I missed it, it looked awesoem.

geoff, the calmest man in the world, hides rage underneath. "they make it so hot in the morning and try to freeze us out in the afternoon!!" he's really a cranky old man behind a nice mask of politeness. it's funny. specially since he really is NICE, just cranky underneath.

ken woodward will talk to you about absolutely anything that pops into his head. did you know that the life expectancy was lower before because of higher infant mortality? oh yes. you didn't count on that one when you thought people only lived to 45, now did you?

You cannot call the taxi dispatcher in new york because they haven't one. haven't had one for years.

If you're going to the airport in new york, since you can't request a cab and you gotta stand outside with your luggage on the curb (aka everything you own), you have to leave enough time to actually *catch* a cab too.

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