[aux_dropcap style=”classic”]I[/aux_dropcap] never knew a week could be so transformative, a veritable whirlwind of self-discovery that sent me spiraling back to the fundamentals of what it means to live a good life. Is it about being a good person? Or is there more to it? The journey of self-discovery, as they say, is not a straight line – it’s a spiral. And I came face-to-face with some deeper truths.
As we returned to our humble abode Wednesday morn, the remnants of the extermination lingered in the air. Tiger, ever the meticulous one, had scoured our domicile to rid it of any trace of chemicals. We’d purged our possessions and piled some into storage, leaving us with a blanker slate to rejuvenate our living space. Our first task? Replacing the worn-out rug beneath our bed.
As I fumbled with the disarray of disassembling bedroom furniture, my sleek watch buzzed with a reminder of an engagement—a text from an old friend inviting me to join her and some mutual friends at a concert in the East Village. Panic set in, but I channeled my inner secret agent, my voice smooth and confident as I used my watch to elegantly respond with a voice-to-text message and confirm my attendance. We added a cozy dinner at JaJaJa, a Mexican-inspired vegan restaurant in the West Village—A perfect opportunity for reconnection.
With that deed done, I turned back to the task at hand, piecing together furniture and tidying up our trinkets. The new rug gave our boudoir a touch of panache, making it feel fresh and charming.
After a day spent laboring, Tiger and I found ourselves irresistibly drawn to the siren call of Teddy’s, a rugged sports bar nestled in the hearth of Spanish Harlem. We had frequented the establishment before, lured by its intimate atmosphere and the allure of engaging in playful “song battles” with our fellow patrons on the digital TouchTones Jukebox.
As we slunk into the first cozy and relaxed room of the two-room saloon, we made our way to our favorite table with an air of nonchalance. But as we neared, the owner’s announcement of “Karaoke night!” caught us off guard.
With a knowing grin and a chuckle, I turned to Tiger, “Uh-oh, now we’re in trouble,” I said, surrendering to the night’s whims and the intoxicating pull of the microphone.
The second room contrasted slightly with the subdued atmosphere of the first, with a more lively dive bar feel and the bar name scrawled in a graffiti-style on one wall near the back door. The patrons made the atmosphere more energetic, and the drinks flowed like Niagara….and what do my wondering eyes should spy but a modest digital Karafun Karaoke setup, a QR code beckoning us to choose our songs using our mobile devices. A perfect addition to the already rollicking ambiance, making the experience all the more interactive and devilishly fun.
[aux_quote type=”pullquote-normal” text_align=”left” quote_symbol=”1″ float=””]The music started, and I began to sing, feeling the words flow from my lips and fill the room. The crowd cheered and clapped along, their energy and enthusiasm feeding me. I felt free and alive, lost in the moment and the music. My voice was raw but filled with emotion.As I hit that final note, the crowd applauded. I opened my eyes, feeling a sense of euphoria and accomplishment. I felt free, alive, and in harmony with singing again for the first time in a while.[/aux_quote]
As I picked up the microphone, my heart pounding with excitement and a hint of nerves, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, letting the lyrics and melody of the song, Surface Pressure, wash over me. The music started, and I began to sing, feeling the words flow from my lips and fill the room. The crowd cheered and clapped along, their energy and enthusiasm feeding me. I felt free and alive, lost in the moment and the music. My voice was raw but filled with emotion.
As I hit that final note, the crowd applauded. I opened my eyes, feeling a sense of euphoria and accomplishment. I felt free, alive, and in harmony with singing again for the first time in a while.
We scanned the crowd until a familiar face caught our eyes, a patron we knew from our past jukebox song battles. He had been brutally stabbed in a tragic incident that had occurred here just before Christmas. The news of the attack had struck a chord with us, resonating with deep sympathy and compassion. Wearing a wide smile, our acquaintance sang songs with us, then showed us his scars and recounted the tale.
The incident that led to his stabbing was a brutal crime spree, culminating in three other stabbings, two of which were fatal. The first happened when a 35-year-old Harlem man viciously slashed a 51-year-old man’s neck on Avenue A between 13th and 14th Streets in the East Village after the victim left a nearby bar.
Three days later, the same attacker, seeking revenge for being previously ejected from Teddy’s, had returned with a baseball bat, attacking a female bartender and damaging the property. The brave patron and one brave employee, both Marines, intervened. Still, their valiant efforts were met with a brutal counterattack as the attacker plunged a knife into their bodies. Luckily both survived.
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None of us could fathom the motivations driving someone to commit such atrocities. I couldn’t help but wonder about the man, his background, his character, and the underlying issues that led him to unleash such ruin and commit such unspeakable acts. The mind boggles, as they say.
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Later that same night, the attacker stabbed and killed a 60-year-old pediatrician.
None of us could fathom the motivations driving someone to commit such atrocities. I couldn’t help but wonder about the man, his background, his character, and the underlying issues that led him to unleash such ruin and commit such unspeakable acts. The mind boggles, as they say.
Despite the tragedy, we tried to recognize his humanity. He was another regular bar customer and maybe even one of our past song-battle participants. To think of the possibility, he may have acted convivially with us one day and committed heinous crimes the next.
On Thursday, Tiger and I redoubled our efforts to restore order to our home. We dropped off two 30+ pound bags to laundry service, then dedicated over four hours to washing and spin-drying our delicate possessions at home, a tedious task that felt like a never-ending game of Tetris as we carefully arranged each article into loads that fit into the mini-washer.
The portable washer-dryer machine was a lifesaver we acquired during the COVID quarantine stay-at-home orders. Its compact size made it perfect for handling small loads. Still, loading and unloading the machine proved to be a back-aching task, especially after 4 hours!
As I carefully loaded the wash side with water, adding a measure of detergent, fabric softener, or rinse water, depending on the cycle. I reminded myself of the tedious and repetitive nature of this task. The rotary wash timer dial spun round and round, ticking away the minutes, a metaphor for the endless cycle of monotonous cleaning and maintenance that this life required.
[aux_quote type=”pullquote-normal” text_align=”left” quote_symbol=”1″ float=””]The spin dryer side was smaller, so often, the wash load had to be divided in half, a constant balancing act—a Sisyphean task, testing our patience and dexterity that had us questioning life’s meaning and purpose. [/aux_quote]
After 3 cycles, we transferred the delicate fabrics to the spin dryer side for about 5 minutes per load. The spin dryer side was smaller, so often, the wash load had to be divided in half, a constant balancing act—a Sisyphean task, testing our patience and dexterity that had us questioning life’s meaning and purpose. Life existed as a never-ending washing, spinning, and folding cycle. As we watched the final spin cycle come to an end, we rejoiced in the small victory in the grand scheme of things.
Between cycles, I couldn’t help but ponder how my New Year’s resolutions slipped away amidst the maelstrom of recent activity. Determined to regain control, I reached for my trusty bullet journal, a canvas for my aspirations and progress.
Since July, I have been using it to stay creative and organized. Still, the allure of holiday parties and the chaos of fumigation preparations had caused me to stray from my regular practice. I started creating spreads to audit and track my habits, like a map to guide me through the mess. However, as I reached for my markers, pencils, and erasers, I realized some were missing, swept away in the recent upheaval.
Instead of feeling discouraged, I embraced the challenge and let my creativity flow, improvising with what I had on hand. I knew that staying accountable to my resolutions was necessary, and I committed to getting back on track.
After a trying day, I was excited to catch up with old friends and enjoy a fun night out. If life is a balance between hard work and play, I was ready to savor the latter with my loved ones.
On Friday, I joined friends for a dinner date at JaJaJa. The restaurant’s inviting candlelit atmosphere enveloped me, and my spirits lifted. As I greeted them, dressed in a black dress adorned with pockets and paired with heart-printed fishnets over glittery skating tights, one of my girlfriends commented on how “stunning” I looked. I felt like a million bucks.
We laughed and caught up over plates of nachos, guacamole, and Crispy Pescado tacos. The company, atmosphere, and food all harmonized to create one of those rare and delightful evenings; everything seemed perfect.
As we indulged in culinary delights, I took a moment to deeply inhale the delicate aromas and cherish our conversations, which flowed easily. The delicious cuisine nourished my body and soul with its savory flavors as an added bonus. I missed them and their presence in my life. Getting caught up in daily tasks and responsibilities made it easy for me to disconnect from those around me.
So, I relished the taste of each dish and story as this chance to bond, share, and recharge our relationships. Their company rejuvenated me, and I looked forward to attending a show with them again, like we shared so many times before.
After dinner, we wandered over to Bowery Electric. Everything came together in perfect symphony, the music, the company, and the ambiance. The intimate setting brought me closer to the music, and the music united me with the crowd in adoring the artist and his creations. The exhilarating atmosphere quickened my pulse as I felt the thrill of the impending performance.
[aux_quote type=”pullquote-normal” text_align=”left” quote_symbol=”1″ float=””]Attention. It’s what we all crave, isn’t it? A little bit of recognition, a little bit of validation. We want to be seen, to be heard, to be acknowledged. Without it, we’re nothing but shadows fading into the background.
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Memories of my days on tour and working the merch table also flooded back, making me reflect on the choices and sacrifices I’ve made in my career. The concert was not only a celebration of the music but also a reminder of the passion and dedication that led me to where I am now. As I swayed to the beat and sang along to the lyrics, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia for the days when music consumed my life—a bittersweet reminder of all that I had given up but also a reaffirmation of why I had made those sacrifices.
Attention. It’s what we all crave, isn’t it? A little bit of recognition, a little bit of validation. We want to be seen, to be heard, to be acknowledged. Without it, we’re nothing but shadows fading into the background.
But, as with all things, too much of a good thing can be dangerous. Too much attention can be suffocating, overwhelming. And yet, we still desire it, even if it’s just a quick word of praise or a passing glance.
But why? Why do we need attention? Is it to feed our egos? To boost our self-esteem? Or is it something deeper, something more primal?
Perhaps it’s simply the need to be seen, to be acknowledged. To know that we exist, that we matter. And in a world that can often feel cold and uncaring, that need for attention can be a lifeline.
As I leaned into my dear friend’s embrace, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and validation wash over me. His simple gesture of a hug and a compliment on my diminutive figure left me momentarily speechless. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why his words and actions had such a profound effect on me, but they did.
Still buzzing with the night’s music, the last of our group had proceeded to 96 Tears.
“Ah, the usual suspects,” I mused to myself, as I took in the scene from the shadows of my booth. The usual chatter and clink of glasses, the usual faces and their usual preoccupations. And there, across from me the usual troublemaker, renowned for spouting his usual nonsense and causing the usual rift. I took a sip of my drink and sighed. I knew all too well that I was in no way in agreement with his views.
As I sat in silence, nursing my drink and biting my tongue, the tension was palpable. Across from me sat the man, silent, but his divisive opinions rang loud in my ears. I longed to argue and prove him wrong, which must have shown in my expression. Our mutual friend, ever the voice of reason, leaned in and whispered words of kindness and the importance of treating even those we disagree with as friends. At that moment, I quietly questioned my own actions and biases. Though I did not change my stance, I admired his open-minded perspective and supportive nature in their friendship.
As I swirled my drink, feeling the vodka burn its way down my throat, I couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of liberation. The liquid courage gave me the strength to speak my mind, to say the things I’d kept bottled up. But as I started to open my mouth and engage in idle chatter, I felt guilty. I treaded dangerous ground, teetering on the edge of gossiping. The thought of causing harm to those about which I cared made me feel uneasy. Loyalty, honesty, and morality pulled my mind in different directions. Sensing my distress, my friend offered more words of comfort, reminding me that people held a better opinion of me than I assumed and I should cut myself some slack.
[aux_quote type=”pullquote-normal” text_align=”left” quote_symbol=”1″ float=””]As I swallowed my drink and listened, my heart swelled in appreciation of my friend’s ability to navigate the choppy waters of relationships, even when things get complicated.[/aux_quote]
As I swallowed my drink and listened, my heart swelled in appreciation of my friend’s ability to navigate the choppy waters of relationships, even when things get complicated. His words soothed my soul, reminding me that true friendship, a rare commodity, demonstrates its authenticity by being there for each other, no matter what.
I slipped out of the pub and into the early morning night, and I couldn’t help but feel grateful for the bonds I shared with these individuals and how they helped me navigate the complexities of life.
I lounged about my home all weekend, nursing my weary head and mending my worn spirit. I began scribbling down musings about the week’s happenings that provided much to ponder:
It’s funny, isn’t it? How something as small as a rug can signify a new beginning. But, as they say, the little things make all the difference.
I hadn’t realized how much I needed to let go and have fun until we decided to sing karaoke. Life is short; why act so serious all the time? These simple moments of happiness and enjoyment, make life worth living.
[aux_quote type=”pullquote-normal” text_align=”left” quote_symbol=”1″ float=””]I also mused about my moral compass and whether I would have the courage and selflessness to stand up against violence and support others during difficult times. The sobering thought reminded me to actively strive to be and do better every day.[/aux_quote]
Still, we live in a dark and mysterious world. You can never truly know a person. I reflected on the resilience and bravery of those who have faced tragedy—how as a community, we must stand together, support one another, and prevent violence. These small acts of kindness and compassion toward others make us human.
I also mused about my moral compass and whether I would have the courage and selflessness to stand up against violence and support others during difficult times. The sobering thought reminded me to actively strive to be and do better every day.
A delicious meal and the company of dear friends underscored the importance of connection for our well-being.
Being just another face in the crowd felt strange. I yearned to feel exceptional, performing or behind the merch table, feeling the thrill of being a part of an experience. I knew I should step away to prioritize my health and future career. As painful as it was to swallow, sometimes, sacrifices must be made for self-preservation.
The small tokens of love and support from those around us make a difference. I considered the human need for attention and validation. It’s a tricky thing, this attention business. It can make or break us. It can lift us up or tear us down. And yet, we still seek it out, like moths to a flame.
But, as with all things, balance is key. Too much attention can be just as harmful as none at all. So, let us strive for a balance, a middle ground. Let us seek out attention, but not at the cost of our own well-being. And let us remember that attention is not the be-all and end-all. It is but a small part of the grand tapestry of life.
So, let us seek out attention, but let us also be content with simply existing. For, in the end, isn’t that all any of us really wants? To be seen, to be heard, to be acknowledged, to simply exist.
The small things make life worth living, and it’s essential to find balance, be mindful of the past, and cherish the present. And to remember to be kind, to be courageous, and to be the best version of ourselves.
