Tug tug, go the heart strings
Question everything, goes the uncertainty
Long for the past, goes the nostalgic memories
Go where it's sunny!, says the Seasonal Affective Disorder

Hush up and go away, says I

I hate that I miss you and I don't even know why. Oi, you ain't all that. - almost a haiku.

It has come to my attention that I am not a fan of douchebags who take photos with their hands in the form of peace signs - American douchebags or otherwise. Looking at photos of said douchebags makes me sick and vomit a little in my mouth. Even when I was 18/19 in college I was able to recognize my disdain for douchebags, although they were tolerable. Now I just find it sad. I don't know why I got so angry, but I just had to make it known that I never liked frat boys from Staten Island who rocked the blow out hairstyle and I never will.

You know you're getting older when

Exes start getting married.

Because the world is growing ever smaller thanks to the interwebs and the tools they bring us, I know my ex is starting a new chapter of his life. Soon. And I remember when I first found out. It was this numbing kind of shock that left me short of breath and my hands going on first instinct searching for the nearest alcoholic beverage. But then after a while my breathing became regulated again and something happened. I was okay with life going on.

I actually saw him not too long ago at an important place from our past. We were in the same room for hours and didn't say hello. I watched him and listened intently as he made a speech, and realized that this voice that was once so familiar was unrecognizable. And that face that I once wanted to wake up to forever was foreign to me. And then the strangest and most wonderful thing happened. I came to the realization that no matter how confused or in limbo my life might be right now, I'm still happier to know that I'm where I am today and that everything happened just as it did.

It's really weird how the subconscious works. For the past couple of weeks leading up to this moment I've been having dreams around his wedding, some involving friends from different parts of my life, one even involving another ex who in the dream was visiting NY and no one bothered to tell me he was in town.

It's strange, all these new beginnings and people evolving. And still, I'm okay. Almost...happy even.

The whole world's a-twitter

Social media is all everyone in my world seems to be talking about these days. I even found the once skeptical me obsessed and constantly connected once I installed TwitterBerry for my Crackberry. Now you know what keeps me up at night or occupies me when I can't sleep.

On the one hand, as a professional in the PR world, I understand how valuable a tool social media can be in helping my message and my clients' message reach so many people directly and in real time. Instead of just shooting commercial messages into outerspace there are real opportunities to connect with real people. But the problem is that marketing/PR/social media folk want to connect over every channel available from Flickr and Youtube to Facebook and Twitter. I've been guilty of it myself, tweeting links to Facebook Fan Pages.

But something happens when I'm on the receiving end of these messages. Brands are offering me the right to choose which of 3 options to communicate and receive information. I go with Twitter because that's the tool I am most plugged into (and I not-so-secretly despise Facebook for personal use). I am indirectly telling a brand my preferred method of communication. I am telling a brand which is the best way for them to reach me 24 hours a day. Yet that's not enough. Brands will still request that I become a Fan on Facebook. But how does that help them get their messages across when I opt out of receiving updates from Fan Pages?

I know I will find myself guilty of committing this type of crime in the future, with tweets of Facebook Fan Page links and blog posts of Youtube videos with a Flickr stream asking that they Digg it, but I hope that with every tweet and every video posted the consumer inside me will pay close attention before the professional in me clicks “share” too quickly.

My own Post Secret

I'm happy I didn't marry you.

(Aren't reunions grand?)

Even my drunk posts sound melancholy?!?

Oh man. I clearly know how to convey depression even when I'm not depressed. All I was going for in that last post of vodka-and-wine-infused honesty is that I'm enamored with Israel and most likely over New York. Which could be a good thing. You know, like slowly understanding my psyche and getting to the root of my instability as I not so secretly crave a stable life? Totally. Like that.

So anyway, how's everyone doing? Can you believe we're well into August? Soon the chagim will be here and I kinda dread that time because my family isn't religious so my holiday options aren't many and aren't ideal.

I'm in the running for a part-time position...in Philly. Any thoughts? Quit while I'm ahead or split my time between Philly and New York? Looking for advice. Those who know me, please give your advice through more direct means of communication. Thanks and have a glorious week!