I live in New York. During my first years in the city, I spent portions of New Year’s Eve standing in Times Square, excited about watching the ball drop live with the freezing crowds. By 2010, I decided that was for tourists. I spent that year’s NYE warm and stilettoed at a private/indoor party overlooking Times Square. This year, I’ve escaped the city all together, and I’m spending a low key evening with longtime Illinois friends in Downtown Chicago. I’m either growing tired of New York, or I’m growing old.

Wherever you are and whatever you’re doing, I wish you a safe, happy and sexy send off to the New Year!

In my writing / creative career, things are going well. Really well. Theoretically, I shouldn’t have anything to complain about. But, I will for a bit because I have to get something off my chest. Winter. Prone to depression, the cold weather, blistering winds and lack of sunny days really fucks with my mood. Inbox emails pile up. I fall behind on projects. I make stupid mistakes. I eat more than usual, and I gain weight. It’s as if my body is forcing its way into a slow, socially awkward lockdown for the winter. I recently read about hibernation. Why? Because, that’s we what geeks do. We have super-intense stare downs with Jimmy Wales while looking up random shit on Wikipedia :) Anyway. Digging online has taught me marmots go into hiding throughout much of September through May. They’re basically like, “Yeah, we’re not down with cold weather shit. We’ll pass.” I want to do that. Honestly, ideally, I’d live in New York City during the nicer months and move somewhere warm during the winters. But, I digress. I actually have a point about online dating for today’s blog post.

Over the years, I’ve tried a bunch of different sites. Match.com, Salon, Craigslist, Nerve Personals, J-Date, etc., etc. Photos trump words. If the guy looks like a douchebag, I won’t bother reading the profile. If his pictures are cute, I’ll click through. Granted, he doesn’t have to look like Gabriel Aubry or Eric Benét. But, I have to find him attractive.

“You need professional dating photos for the perfect online dating profile,” advertises a company called Dating Headshots. They wanted me to poke around their site and let you guys know about their services. Generally speaking, I disagree with them. No, you don’t need professional photos on your online dating profile. It looks cheesy. What’s more? I’d rather a guy look exactly like his image when he shows up, not a glamorized, airbrushed version of himself. But, who am I to knock their service before trying it? Plus, some of you — men and women — ARE fans of headshot pics. So, when Dating Headshots kindly told me they wanted me to try them out and offer all FUNKY BROWN CHICK® readers a 10% discount (your special code: 127287) on Silver and Gold Studio photo shoots, I figured I’d give them a whirl. I originally planned to get my hair & makeup done for the occassion, but I decided against it. I wore the same outfit, hairstyle and makeup from earlier that day. The photographer snapped a bunch of pictures. My favorites were the candid, full-length shots where his only instruction / question was, “Can you walk toward me?” He was cute. So, of course, I strut.

This is winter in New York City. Would I use the images on a dating profile? I’m not sure, but I like these shots — even though the images aren’t drenched in sunshine, and I’m not wearing a bikini. I think the pictures work because they’re simple. No bells. No whistles. No bright colors. No fancy settings. No cropping, touch ups, corrections or other alterations. It’s just me and Manhattan. Surprisingly, I like it! Maybe I’ll survive this “Winter Season” crap afterall.

Pssst! Again, if you decide to try Dating Headshots, remember FUNKY BROWN CHICK® folks get a 10% discount on some photo shoots. Use the code 127287. Contact them with any question. If you do it, let me know and show me your pictures!

—————————-

Photo credit: Dating Headshots photo by Aydin Arjomand.

Reason #153 on the “Why I live in Manhattan, Not Brooklyn” list: It’s easy to find my way around. If I ever get lost in an unfamiliar neighborhood, a quick Metrocard swipe or arm extended in the air will safely get me home.

Direct video link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wo8YSJgbmbE

I can totally laugh about last night’s TRAINING DAY experience now. But, when I was in the moment — a woman abandoned at an unfamiliar corner in do-or-die Bed-Stuy, alone among men I didn’t know during the pitch black night — I was kind of scared shitless. I figured I’d be lucky if I ONLY got mugged. I’m happy little angels wings carried me safely home without incident. Thank you MTA for hiring a friendly bus driver. Thank you R. Penzo, Jeannette Arrowood and Emily Hanhan for offering Twitter guidance to get me back home! Ah, New York. If anyone needs a walking tour of Jay-Z‘s childhood neighborhood in Brooklyn, I can show you the route. Sheesh!! :-| Have a safe and happy weekend, everyone!! :)

New York Press has an awesome column called 8 Million Stories, predicated on the idea that this city of 8,000,000 is stuffed with juicy stories that deserve sharing. Taking a page from their playbook, here’s one particular New Yorker’s point of view: mine. Like everyone, I read the news — online, of course. I have to admit I’m surprised by non-New Yorkers’ reaction to the proposed “Ground Zero Mosque.” Because, quite frankly, many people I know who actually live in Manhattan simply don’t care if it gets built. I’ve said a bit about this on Facebook and Twitter, but I thought I’d combine my thoughts in a FUNKY BROWN CHICK® post. After all, if you’ve read my about page, you know I’m a sex & relationships writer and this site chronicles my life. (Currently, that life is based in New York City.)

I live in Manhattan, and I don’t care if a mosque gets built downtown. Last time I checked, the U.S. Constitution granted freedom of religion by stating, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.” Cathedrals, synagogues and other houses of worship are present in Lower Manhattan. So, I can’t think of a fair reason why Muslims should be singled out. The Village Voice has a great piece about non-New Yorker’s disappointment about the mosque titled Dear Rest-of-America: Take This Map, It’s Why You’re Wrong About the “Ground Zero Mosque”. An excerpt:

“Maybe we’ll care what [non-New Yorkers] have to say [about the mosque] when you stop bothering us for directions in the subway on how to get to Ground Zero so you can go there and buy some dumb, tacky knickknack you can take home and give to friends to let them know that you spent money on a shake-a-snow where a few thousand people died.”

Another (satirical) quote, this time from Daily Show correspondent John Oliver (also in Manhattan): “There’s a difference between what you can do and what you should do. For instance, you can build a Catholic church next to a playground. Should you?” I don’t think all Catholics are pedophiles, nor do I believe all Muslims are extremists. So, if we can have churches two blocks away from a playground, it seems okay to build a Muslim cultural center two blocks away from the proposed Ground Zero memorial (that hasn’t even been built yet.) That’s my view on this continuing story about the mosque. It’s not a sex/love story, but it’s a tale about a city I love.

Teresa and me brunching at Calle Ocho on New York’s Upper East Side as we gossiped about men & sex last Sunday. Photo by John. (Sorry, my Android doesn’t have flash!) Heads up, if you live in New York and you’ve not yet tried it, Calle Ocho offers unlimited sangria during brunch. Full disclosure: I’m not affiliated with the restaurant in any way, they’re not paying me to plug them and I wasn’t given free food when I dined there. I just thought it was pretty fucking awesome it only cost us about $20 / person for a good meal plus unlimited drinks for a few hours. After, we headed to Central Park and watched the old-school Central Park Dance Skaters. Good times! Sometimes, I love this city.

Just got back from an extended trip to Illinois. When I’m in the Midwest, I get really nostalgic and I wonder why I ever left. Sometimes, I fucking hate New York. Seriously. I want to be near my Chicago-based family and friends again. And, I miss having a decent standard of living that didn’t require forking over my entire paycheck to support it. If I lived in Chicago, I’d see my closest relatives on a regular basis. My Midwest mortgage + car payment would be less than my NYC rent. Sometimes, I look at my friends back home and I’m jealous that they’re able to live in an extremely comfortable world. They go on nice vacations. They own the spaces in which they live. They have what seems like — from the outside at least — VERY easy lives. Yes, I know the facade often hides what’s beneath. And, yes, I know I shouldn’t compare myself to others. (But, sometimes, I do.) Fuck me; I’m human.

I think back to the years I lived in the CHI. I had a great job, wonderful apartment, padded savings account, etc. But, I felt soooo alone and out of place there. I didn’t feel like I could be myself because people would judge me. I’ve said it before: People generally come from all over the entire world to live in New York City. People generally come from all over the entire Midwest to live in Chicago. In my mind, Illinois is provincial. That doesn’t make it a bad place. Actually, on the contrary, that’s one of its good points. The place is STUFFED with decent fucking down home people — the kind that often seem sparce on the Isle of Manhattan. It’s as if Illinois is the “sensible guy” I should be dating. But, I can’t help it. I’ve never been any good at: (1) being good or (2) doing something solely because it was good for me. Give me a stable, healthy existence without any real challenges (i.e. Illinois) and I’ll bore. I want thrills. Fun. Adventure. Shitty experiences that I’ll bitch and moan about for ages until, years later, I’ll be thankful they caused to me grow into a better person. To me, that’s better than experiencing regrets and unfulfilled dreams. I want to live. You know, like, REALLY live instead of just settling for something that’s the sensible/right thing to do.

Anyway. So, yeah, I really fucking hate New York sometimes. But, I love it too.

Changing the subject. Kind of.

You know it snowed in Illinois on Christmas, right? Snow can be pretty. But, sometimes, it makes cold, damp, grey and cloudy weather.

Sure, it snows in New York, too. But, we have fun with it.

Ages ago, before I moved to Manhattan, a guy friend who is a New Yorker-turned-Chicagoan described Manhattan to me by saying, “It was like watching color TV after only having experienced black and white.” I understand. I really do.

———
* Pssssst, the dating culture here is whack, too. But that’s a topic for tomorrow’s post.

Almost seven years ago, I moved to Chicago. Having U-Hauled my stuff from Florida, I’d just been dumped without reason by a man I thought loved me more than anyone had previously. He told me there wasn’t another woman and I hadn’t done anything wrong. As Woody Allen has said, “the heart wants what it wants.” His didn’t want me. Since I couldn’t blame him for his desires (or lack thereof), I blamed me. What did I do to make myself so incredibly unlovable ?, I wondered. I was hurt, depressed, unemployed and crashing at an old college friends’ place — a gainfully employed corporate banker who offered me her guest room then later, unexpectedly, asked me to pad her wallet with back-rent when I moved out.

Struggling with a heart broken by my ex, a job search failed and pain from a friend’s perceived betrayal, I wondered: What Should I Do with My Life? I schlepped to Borders Bookstore on Chicago’s Michigan Avenue and bought hottie Po Bronson‘s book by the same title: What Should I Do with My Life?: The True Story of People Who Answered the Ultimate Question. I’m not going to tell the tale of my three-year stint in the Second City and subsequent move to Manhattan — or the story of how I got over the boy — because that’s not the point of this blog post. Out with the old, in with the new. Happy New Year, it’s my fourth in New York. Around this time last year, I walked away from my full-time publishing gig in the financial district to dedicate myself to my own writing. As a result, I can honestly say 2008 was my first “good” year in NYC — on all fronts. (Psst! My last 2008 piece / first 2009 piece, I’m a Writer, Not A Child Pornographer, is now published at Huffington Post.)

I don’t remember the exact passage, but Po mentions very few people discover their “purpose” in life after hearing a commanding voice from the sky. I’ve fallen on my ass, made poor decisions, run up a lot of debt, second-guessed myself throughout various periods of my life. I’ve also succeeded. I try to make the best decisions I can with the information I have at a given time. And, I move forward on faith. My purpose, my goals for 2009 are to: (1) finish my book and (2) unclutter my life. I’ve already written 5.5 of my book’s 13 chapters, and I want to wrap the remaining 7.5 up by December 2009. Regarding clutter, I want to lose: weight I said I’d lose by the end of 2008 but didn’t, the mess in my apartment and any unnecessary drama and/or loose ends with exes. I’ve got a good feeling about 2009. I hope you do, too. For fun, listen to oldie-but-goody NPR podcast interview with Po Bronson. Read Marci Alboher‘s archive of her New York Times Shifting Careers blog or her book One Person/Multiple Careers: A New Model for Work/Life Success. Sincerest wishes that this year brings you peace, prosperity and any insights needed to make changes and accomplishments in your life — if that’s what your heart desires.

—————

Tonight, I will judge the First Annual Man-Pageant hosted by Jen Dziura from www.jenisfamous.com — an awesome New York-based comedian and writer best known for orchestrating the Williamsburg Spelling Bee. (Psst! I once interviewed Jen for Gen Art. Read the article.) Because I’m so ridiculously excited to visually size up delicious hunks of man flesh, I’m live blogging the whole damn thing. Twitter streams from my fellow judges Nichelle Stephens, Audacia Ray and Judy McGuire are included within. To play it, click the green arrow shaped like a circle.

Hey guys. Just a quick vomit update about what’s been going on … My friend Anita is in town visiting from Chicago and Mags is in town visiting from Washington, D.C. The big calendar party tonight. Plus, tomorrow, I’m doing my first ever standup comedy performance. Shhh! I didn’t tell anywhere when or where it is because I’m totally scared I’m gonna fucking choke. I’m not a comedian. I’m doing it because I love this particular show, and I think it will be a fun thing to do! If it goes well, I’ll write about it on this blog. If I dork it and make an ass of myself, I’ll probably still write about it anyway. :)

What else? I was a guess on FAN-TA-BU-LOUS s Amy Spencer and Anna David‘s Sirius Satellite Radio show “Sex Files.” Here’s a picture of (l-r) co-host Anna David, me and fellow guest Amelia Mcdonell-Parry:

More pictures are on my Flickr. The show aired live on Sirius Channel 108 on Wednesday @ 2:00 pm EST / 11:00 am PST. It’s gonna rebroadcast at 11:00 pm EST / 8:00 pm PST throughout this weekend. And, because I love each and every one of you ( … yes, you my sweet little readers … ), I asked for a copy of the audio. I’ll post it on the blog as soon as it arrives.

Damn, I am soooo looking forward to a relaxing weekend. In addition to writing, working and other stuff, I’ve got a bunch of general life maintenance / administration stuff to do. TGIF. If you live in New York, I hope to see you at the party tonight. If not, have a good weekend!!

I. Heart. New York. The LGBT community center is a polling place and you can take free “NYC condoms” with you after you vote.

Yeah, I’ll admit it. I almost didn’t vote. The lines for District 104 stretched along 13th street, down 8th Avenue and down 12th Street. Frustrated, I left the line and called Bro saying, “I can’t believe I’m not gonna vote today, but the lines are so ridiculously long. Plus, New York is going to Obama anyway.” Bro cursed, yelled and demanded I get back in line. I Baracked it hard.

Early in the evening watching the votes come in at a bar, a diehard McCain supporter seated to my right smiled smugly as she took off her coat and flaunted her bright red partisan clothing. (I gave her the Evil Death Stare.) A couple hours later all the Barack Obama supporters rushed out of the bar and flooded Times Square. The girl in the red dress put on her coat and, presumably, went home.

———————-
Additional pics — including proof of my newfound love of thigh high stockings — are on my Flickr.