It was boundless and infinitely simple. I found the answers to my ____ in a rotting hole on 11th street.

Locale: 4th ave. New York fucking city.

Wait. Step back. The situation was totally mucked. You wake up and put your shoes on. You squirm into some fad-driven clothing arrangement. You think. What's next? Perhaps some coffee. Then the swirling lapse of existence sinks in. Your momentary reason of simply being is captured in that singular pinnacle of the fleeting now. Breathe. It's only a passing thing. Your heart flutters without intent. It just does it. Ample time to get to a hospital. Or not. You stumble towards the seemingly distant staircase, pounding on your chest, hoping to revel in the effectiveness of your shitty organs.  Breathe deep. Count to 5. No ten. Ok 5.

No, you read that right. I just turned twenty. I refuse to turn thirty, so I'm doing my twenties over again. But then again, as I look back over my twenties, I realized something: Why on earth would I want to be twenty again? My twenties SUCKED! Holy crap I'm so glad I'm thirty. Thirty is going to be a great year... My last few days as a twenty something were amazing, but the first few days as a thirty something have been much, much better. Ahhh the joys of turning 30,  I woke up, got dressed, and went out to dinner, then I went to a bar, drank tequila after tequila, and almost got punched in the face by an ex-linebacker for the New York Giants... come to think of it, my first day as a thirty year old was exactly like the first day as a twenty year old! Haha, ten years and I haven't learned a goddamn thing.  But having making it out of my twenties alive, I'd like to share some of the lessons I've learned:

Friday, October 27th, was a spectacular day... a day that witnessed the miracle of birth in more than one way.

As a soon to be attorney, I work in the legal department of a TV Production company on the Jersey Shore. It's a very laid back environment with jeans and tees worn by editors, producers, and licensors alike. Everyone knows everyone as well as their business. For this reason, I had no problem standing up and announcing that my dear friend Sarah was in labor, upon the receipt of her text in the early afternoon:

In South Boston, the state police force is waging war on Irish-American organized crime. Young undercover cop Billy Costigan is assigned to infiltrate the mob syndicate run by gangland chief Frank Costello.

I'm sitting on a bus, filled with young, beautiful people who are undoubtedly on their way to work. We get on this bus together, have our short time in close proximity, sit in silence with our iPods plugged in, not even knowing each other's names. How sad. The bus driver is an Asian man who surely works too hard for the payment he receives once-a-month. The rest of the passengers are on their way to an unsatisfying job that pays their way to material happiness. This could very easily be our last ride together.

Passion, fun, and mystery.

Everything else is muddled nonsense. If someone wants to take the ride with me for a bit, then so be it. I’ll end up hurting some people. I’ll end up helping some people.

I had to read this amazing book for one of my classes. It's called "In the Name of Identity: Violence and the Need to Belong" by Amin Maalouf. The first half of this book is about identity and what that word means. Maalouf talks about how complex each person’s identity is and how the more parts you add to your own identity, the more unique it becomes. The second half of this book is how identity affects our world. The part that I found the most striking is Maalouf writes about how it is not surprising that we have so much animosity and war in our world because of the way some people view their identities. People of certain religious groups, ethnicities, etc. decide to put their one identity at the forefront and leave the rest behind. They prioritize certain parts of their identity over others and need to feel as though they belong. When they feel that identity is threatened, through globalization, or just insulting their way of life, defending it, many times with violence, seems like the best option to these people.

Due to pressure from the international community and hippies the world over

Last night made me think a lot about things. Yes, I'm a registered republican. Yes, I voted for our President. Yes, I hate myself for it.

Kudos to Keith O. for summing up the fears of many in a direct diatribe against one of the worst leaders in the political history of the world. I'm ashamed of this man when I see him and have come to the conclusion that it is solely his faith in God that makes him so blind to his wrongdoings. For in the eyes of God, everything can beforgiven. Well in my eyes, nothing this man has done for the human race is forgivable.

The things that happen and those that happen to be true. And real. The antithesis of defection squandered. It's those choosing happiness over fucked and taking all the innate swirling bullshit along with them for the walk. Unleashed and hopeful.