The best laid plans of mice and men...

Happy Monday everyone! (Albeit a late Monday)

So, my initial idea for this weeks post was to present another adventure, however, I got called into work tonight. Perhaps things will work out better in the next week, but we'll see how that story unfolds.

Speaking of stories, I just finished The Road by Cormac McCarthy, a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel that details the journey of a man and his son across a post-apocolyptic America in search of the coast. I bought this book over a year ago and began reading around this time last year. For some reason or another, I never finished it then. But over the last few weeks, as I've stated before, I find myself utilizing my time on the train to read. So far I've read three books since mid-September. I don't consider myself a particularly fast reader, but that is some kind of record for me. Anyway, The Road is very simplistic in its narrative. McCarthy wastes no space with extra punctuation, which kind of annoyed me at first but I learned to ignore it and by the end of the book I didn't even notice it. The story doesn't go into great detail about the event that put the world in the utter turmoil the story is placed. Oddly enough, I find the not-knowing to be the most terrifying element of the story, not the several near-death experiences or the groups of cannibals our heroes come across throughout their journey. It's strange how the mind can develop a fear of something which is unknown.

Ironically, I think in the very same vein, when I moved here in August, I was terrified beyond belief of all the elements of living here that were unknowns. Would I have enough money to pay for my rent, my utilities, my student loans; all these things were following me and I had no idea how I was actually going to pay for it all. However, that fear led me to the restaurant that I now call my place of employment. Maybe Yoda was wrong. Maybe fear doesn't lead to the dark side. Maybe fear is what keeps us on the path of good and towards success.

For example, for the longest time my biggest fear has been of being alone. Not of spending the rest of my life single, but of living a life without friends and without purpose. I was told this weekend by some of my best friends at work that when they first met me they were like, "WTF? Is this guy for real?" Apparently, I came off as being too comfortable too quick. Maybe I feared not fitting in and not finding friends at work, because God knows I don't have time to find many friends outside of work these days. Thus, I do my very best to find friends wherever I go. I may hear people on the street trying to figure out where to go, how to get there, or what to do when they do finally get there. There have been a number of times when I chime in a lend a hand. A few times it's gotten me some free drinks. Maybe I'll never see those people again, but knowing that they appreciated my help was very satisfying.

Furthermore, I fear not meaning anything in this world. I've found myself considering those around me and the paths they've decided in their lives and wondered if they are truly happy or if this is just what they do between weekends. I, for one, don't want to spend the rest of my life working in a restaurant. My goal in life is not the become famous, but to help people be happier in whatever way I can through performing. So many people I have served since moving here have complimented me on how I've helped them have a more enjoyable experience. That fulfills my purpose, but I'm not performing at the restaurant, I'm someone's bitch (for lack of a better term). Thus, my fear of not fulfilling that purpose completely keeps me working towards my goals.

In other news, I had my first acting gig on Friday. My former roommate Kathryn works for a not-for-profit company that educates workers in Child Protective Services, the police department, and attorneys that work with victims of abuse, primarily child sexual abuse. This past week her company put on a three-day training that culminated with a day of role play involving actors portraying such victims. I was asked to participate and was given the role of an autistic 7-year-old boy who had been abused by his older half-brother. At first I was kind of uncomfortable with the whole situation because it was something I had never dealt with before I wasn't quite sure how to handle it. However, upon being put in that room and made to portray that character, it all just fell into place. The first session I was in didn't get to the point of disclosure where I was to divulge the whole scenario to the caseworkers. The second and third sessions, however, brought me to tears. I haven't acted for years and hadn't done anything like this before. But I once it started, it all just kind of flowed and felt (oddly) natural. This experience gave me new respect for the individuals that deal with these kinds of cases on a day-to-day basis. What was even more refreshing is that these people openly admit that their job can be terribly depressing when things like this happen to children, but they know they are meant to help these children and their families find peace after it is all said and done. They fear not helping, and so they continue to do this work because they have identified what fulfills their purpose.

I promise an adventure soon (with pictures!).

Happy adventures!

Someone who has changed your life.

Happy Monday everyone!

First off, I apologize for last week's post being something of a tear-jerker--or so many of you have told me. That was not my initial intent when I sat down to write that. As it turns out, I've recently become very well-adjusted to my new life here and find myself thinking very clearly for the first time in a long time. It's strange how having a pretty regular routine after so many years of constant chaos has caused this.

My work schedule changes slightly on a week-to-week basis, but every morning I go to work, I know that I stop at my favorite bagel shop on the way to catch the train where I will order one (or two) plain bagels with nothing on them and a Vitamin Water. I'll eat one while I wait for the train and the first few minutes of the ride, then I'll pull out whatever book I've currently found myself submerged in until I arrive at the 42nd St./Times Square stop at which point I march out of the station, take a right on 43rd St. and wind up at work moments later. After my shift, I'll more than likely eat (for free!) and then either mosey on back home for a late afternoon/early evening work out, dinner, and then catching up on whatever TV I missed over the week. That's my typical day. Somehow, though, I've managed to turn all the monotony of that into something that gets me up each morning. Maybe I'm sleeping better because I'm working out now. Maybe I actual like my job and the people I get to work with and that makes me get up in the morning. Maybe I get up because I already work on the same streets that I hope to for a long time until my prospects change and I move onto something more fulfilling. Who knows? (Cue music. Right, Adam?) Either way, I'm really happy with my life right now.

Which brings me to the title of this post.

I'm sure during this, the facebook era, you've all seen this pictures where one person will tag a collection of characters with the names of their friends they believe to fit that specific mold. There is one currently circulating around facebook that is several different squares that say things like, "Your first crush", "The prettiest girl you know", "The friend that knows you better than anyone else", etc. I received an e-mail telling me that one of my former students from Lebanon had tagged me in a photo. Obviously, I was half intrigued, half terrified of what terribly embarrassing picture had recently surfaced. However, to my profound surprise, it was this most recent collage of "types" where this student of mine had tagged my name in the square that said "Someone that has changed your life." (Pause for tears.) It's been exactly a year ago that I began my student-teaching at Lebanon. Eight weeks later, I was a college graduate and had felt so accomplished in achieving not only a high-level of confidence in front of a choir, but also in developing a rapport with a group of students for which I came to care so deeply. I want to thank this student from the bottom of my heart for paying me the biggest compliment I have ever received. However much I may have impacted your life, I guarantee you've all done the same and more. Be good and always remember to breath.

This incredibly kind comment made me think of all the "Someone(s) who has/have changed my life." There are a lot of them.

My parents have obviously been a huge influence on my life in so many ways. From my mom, I've always been very conscious of being kind to everyone and being a good person. From my dad, I've acquire this sense of curiosity. I really like to know how things work. My dad really knows how just about ANYTHING works. Just ask him! However, I've also gotten this sense of know-it-all-ness from him. But I think it's more of an endearing trait than an off-putting one, mostly because I don't try to take myself too seriously.

Both my brother and my sister have been shining examples of cool, as I'm the eccentric one in the family and they are both pretty mellow, but know how to be crazy in their own rights.

All my friends from Glee Club changed my life by believing in me enough to give me lots of responsibility in the group. For this, I am eternally grateful. In the same vein, our director Ethan not only believed in me before I believed in myself, he put his reputation on the line for me. When I auditioned to be a music major my junior year, I didn't exactly dazzle the voice faculty, but Ethan assured them that while I wasn't the world's best singer, I would make one hell of a music teacher one day. As I'm writing, and anytime I think of that sentence, I feel guilty for not pursuing that career field after college. However, more than anyone, Ethan was the one that told me it was more important for me to follow my dreams and do what makes me really happy than to go into a field that I could always come back to. For your steadfastness and solid advice, I will always owe you an incredible debt, Ethan.

As I'm thinking of all the people I've known throughout my life, each one has played a part in making me the person I am today. As a performer, everyone is an audience member, so I guess I've been doing little trial auditions my entire life. I've failed a lot. But, in order to succeed, you have to fail a lot along the way.

While on that topic, I've decided to not let you all in on every audition I go to. Just know that I'm usually auditioning every week or two and I could definitely use all the thoughts and prayers in the world. When something actually happens, I guarantee you all will be among the first to know. I won't wait until a Monday. It'll be an emergency post with bells and whistles, flags and a fanfare.

I'm hoping to have another adventure soon, but am not sure when that'll happen. Days off are few and far between and usually packed with errands, like today. Sit tight; there are more adventures on the way.

Look around you. There's someone near whose life you have changed. Just be who you are and everyone will take notice.

Happy Adventures!

Autumn in New York...

When I moved here back in August, I knew this time of the year was what I was looking forward to, but also dreading.

Let me start with why I've been looking forward to it: I love fall. It is my absolute favorite season by far for so many reasons. At the top of that list is the fact that I don't sweat as much (even in winter...). Along with that comes the slight chill in the air that serves as a foreshadowing for the winter ahead. Kind of like Mother Nature is saying, "Hey, get ready..." Aside from that, there's just the things that accompany the temperature: sweaters, hot chocolate, fires (bon and otherwise), college football, an unexpected kick-off to Oscar Season (don't laugh, it's serious!), and of course the changing colors of the leaves. After my adventure in Central Park in September, I'm anxious to go back and walk through the Mall and see how the foliage has changed and admire the small things that make life awesome and comforting. Comforting, because seasons are something I come to rely on when everything else around you isn't. True, I was born and raised in Ohio where the weather changes more often than your underwear, but you could always count on a few days being picturesque every season and I've learned to cling to those. No, I'm not saying I had an unreliable childhood, adolescence, or even young adult life; I'm just saying life, in general, is pretty unpredictable. Knowing that the leaves are going to change colors and fall off the trees, which is followed by snowfall, then rain, and the eventual return of the leaves in spring is comforting. And knowing right now that all of you are experiencing the same thing in all different places far from where I am makes me feel less far from you all. Which brings me to why I have been dreading this time of year...

Over the last few weeks at Miami, there have been a number of concerts that I have missed. This coming weekend is Homecoming and I will also miss that. The Holiday concerts will be in early to mid-December and I will also be missing those. I'm hoping that a good number of the people reading this are the ones for which I hate missing those events. It's been almost exactly 10 months since I graduated and the time has not made it any easier to get over the fact that I'm not there any more; Oxford is not where I call home anymore.

As I write this, I'm listening to the recording of the Centennial Concerts for Glee Club which took place over the last weekend of February 2008. It's so wonderful to hear something that means so much to me again and again. One song in particular defines some of the most meaningful moments I've ever had with Glee Club. That song is Morten Lauridsen's "O Magnum Mysterium". The first time I sang this song in concert was at the Holiday Concert in 2004. This particular day's weather consisted of a huge snow storm that had accompanying sleet and ice. My parents were driving down from Columbus to hear the concert. They got caught in some weather-related traffic and called to let me know they may be late but would call when they got there just to let me know they had arrived safely. So I waited and got no call, the concert started and no call. Then we started sing "O Magnum". For those that don't know the song, there is a section I refer to as the "beata" section that depicts the pain Mary goes through giving birth to Jesus. This has always been a part of the song that I relate to my mother and all mothers. Low and behold, when we reached this particular section, I looked off to the right of the seated audience and saw my parents standing by a corner in Kumler Chapel: my mom in tears, my dad with a look on his face I'll never forget and will never be able to accurately describe. It's almost as if they were delivered there especially for me. One other time this song has particular significance was on Winter Tour my fifth year when we stopped in Columbus. Once again, the weather had decided to put down about a foot and a half of snow that made the two hour drive from Oxford to Columbus a four and a half hour drive. After we had lunch, I got a call from my sister and she only said one thing, but I had to have her repeat it three times because I couldn't understand what she was saying. Through tears she was saying, "Grandma's not doing well." (This was my mom's mom.) We were getting on the bus, so after she said she didn't know too much of what was going on, I told her I would call her back once we got to our venue for the that evening's concert. I had already decided I wanted to conduct for this concert since my family was going to be there. Naturally, I chose "O Magnum Mysterium". While rehearsing it with the group, I stopped them and asked to just sing through the "beata" section. I told them the situation at hand, which was that it looked as though my grandma may not make it through the night. I asked them to think about their mothers and to imagine the pain they would be feeling if they were watching their mother die; I asked them to imagine the pain they would feel themselves watching their own mothers die knowing this woman went through great pains to bring you into the world. They sang it again, and it was beautiful, just everything I had wanted. Before the concert, my dad had called to let me know things weren't looking all that good and my mom would not be making it to the concert that night. "O Magnum" went so well during the concert and I will never forget the feeling of conducting that piece with my best friends singing it. After the concert, my dad pulled me aside and broke the news that my grandma had indeed passed away around 6:15 that evening. In my mind, Glee Club helped me sing my grandma to heaven that night.

I will always associate "O Magnum" with Glee Club. I will always associate Glee Club with family. I will always associate family with home. So, I guess in some way, even though I'm not living in Oxford and I can't call it home, it will always feel like home. What this all boils down to is that I'm starting to feel homesick--in every sense of the word.

Since moving to New York, I've set myself up with gainful employment, made my living conditions very comfortable and manageable, and made some fantastic friends. In some ways, maybe New York is starting to feel like home. "Home is where your heart is", right? Well, right now, my heart is being pulled all over the place: I desperately want to sit in Hall Auditorium and listen to my brothers sing under the direction of my best friends; I desperately want to sit on the couch in my parents house with the dog up on my lap; I desperately want to drive from Columbus to Oxford to Lebanon to Cincinnati and everywhere in between. Maybe soon. Maybe while I'm home over Christmas. Definitely sometime.

In the meantime, I've begun some new routines. One of my friends from work has started teaching a tap class over the last few weeks and I've been an avid participant. For those of you that didn't know this: I learned to tap in high school and picked it up pretty well. But it's been about six and a half years since I was last in a dance studio taking any formal classes. Everything feels weird. Maybe I need new shoes? Maybe I just need to work on my technique a little more? Maybe I need to review some of the basic ballet I've learned that may allow me to stay better balanced? Maybe a million things. All I do know is that I'm loving knowing that I have this to look forward to each week.

Furthermore, I joined a GYM! That's right, kids! Nick is working out! I've only gone once since I joined, but I have plans to go with my friend Sean from work two more times this week. Right now, I'm just trying to get in some good cardio and make it a habit. So look out when I'm home over Christmas, I'm gonna need some smaller pants! In fact, all my pants are getting pretty baggy on me that I've resorted to using the hot water cycle in the wash and higher heat in the dryer.

I guess that's all the news fit to print right now. I'll see ya next time.

Happy Adventures!

A Stud and a Babe

Happy Monday everyone!

So this is the second Monday in a row I've been back! YES! And it was a pretty fun last week or so.

Everyday I come to find more reasons why I love this city. I could be on the train and see someone I recognize but maybe not know, see someone I do know but not recognize them, or possibly find someone's doppelganger--which happens a little too often, to be honest. More often than I ever expected, I see people talking to themselves, even arguing with themselves. This is equal parts hilarious and disturbing. What makes it all the more frightening is that I've noticed it is a trend among older women that seem to have a chip on their shoulder. You know the type: whiny, picky, and altogether bitchy... Yes, my friends, this is what girls in New York fear of becoming. Don't let it happen to you.

This brings me to things I don't like about the city: the women mentioned above. Now, I'm not being sexist or anything, because there are definitely men that act the very same way, but they seem to realized it most times and stop. The women, however, believe they are always in the right and YOU are the bad person. For example, I work in a restaurant in Times Square which is of course in the Theatre District. Many patrons will come to our restaurant prior to their show. Now, most people anticipate and desire the ability to take their time with their meal and leave plenty of time for the food to be properly prepared and brought out in a timely manner that still allows time for well-paced conversation over their meal. However, it seems uncommonly common for this situation to go this way: said patrons enter restaurant and ask for a table for x-number of guests*; the host/hostess takes them to a table for the desired amount of guests and the Undesirable Guest (I shall refer to this guest in this way) insists that this table is not good enough for them; the UG proceeds to search the restaurant for exactly the table that fits the right mold, all the while the host/hostess has moved on to their plan B table which also allows for the servers to not be overwhelmed which will maximize the quality of service, etc.; after much deliberation and mumbling under the breath, the UG sits down with his/her other guests. After the order has been taken (all medium well to well done burgers), sent to the kitchen, and 10 minutes has past, the UG will more than likely call out, rudely, "Where's our food? We got a show in 15 minutes!" This information should have been stated earlier in this scenario where the asterisk (*) lies. Please, take a moment to find this part in the story... Naturally, their food only has another 5 minutes, but that's not good enough, so the UG sulks in the our "inadequacies", reveling in the idea that they can do our job better than we do on a 40-hour/week basis. It is at this point that mind tends to create an alternative reality where I proceed to tell the UG: "BITCH! IF YOU HAVE A SHOW, YOU SHOULD HAVE SHOWN UP MORE THAN 30 MINUTES FOR THE CURTAIN IS SUPPOSED TO GO UP! IN THE FUTURE, DON'T BE SO F-ING DUMB! NOW EAT YOUR DAMN BURGER, PAY YOUR BILL, TIP ME MORE THAN 20% AND GET THE HELL OUT OF MY SECTION!" However, in reality, I apologize for not knowing they had a show because had I known this, I would have insisted that they not have ordered burgers cooked anything above medium.

End of rant.

I think I may have found my favorite pizzeria in NY! It is called Arturo's Pizza and is located in Greenwich village on Houston, just south of NYU. This past Thursday night was my rommate Javier's birthday and I was invited to attend dinner here. I thought, "Oh, how nice, it'll just be like 6 or 7 of us having pizza. Goodie." Little did I know that I was living with the single most-popular guy on NYU's campus. Initially, there were to only be 10 of us. Shortly after we were seated, however, the party started to grow. It grew to the nice, round figure of 20...or so. Pizzas were ordered and brought out and devoured, wine was poured and drunk fairly quickly. More pizzas were ordered, brought out, and devoured. More wine was poured and drunk. Lather, rinse, repeat. I forgot to mention that Javier is my roommate from Uruguay and he is getting his PhD (question mark) in Spanish Literature (bigger question mark). What this means is that most of his friends are all from his department and from all the linguistics departments. (Of course, I naturally cut to a scene from FRIENDS where Ross tells everyone "She a linguist! They're crazy over there...) What this really means is that everyone around me was speaking in different languages... The night could a great turn when I found a mutual topic to discuss with some people at the table: Food Network! Yes, we discussed all of our favorites and some we didn't have as much mutual respect for. (Austin, if you're reading this, please skip the next few sentense) One couple at the table insisted that Paula Deen is terrible. I know, I know, I know. I'm upset, too. They insisted that everything she does is just loud and obnoxious and bigger than everyone else because that's her character. They insister that the Barefoot Contessa does the same dishes but in a much more elegant fashion. Well, EXCUSE me for liking things big, loud, and obnoxious (I like myself, obviously). Anywho, it was fun to talk food while enjoying some of the best pizza I've had. Most pizza in New York has a pretty non-descript curst but really good cheese and toppings. This pizza had it all. It was coal oven-baked which gave it a fantastic grilled flavor with just a touch of burntness (yes, it tastes like burning...) and the toppings, cheese, and sauce were just perfect. If you come to visit me, we're totally going to Arturo's!

The next night was HUGE! I made my New York City performance debut at the first ever Christ Church UM Cabaret Night alongside Emily. We sang "A Stud and a Babe" from I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change and were a pretty big hit. Of course, being me I didn't hit all the right notes, but I hadn't even gotten ahold of the music until the day before. But, of course, being me I did hit all the funny parts. The whole theme of the evening was Loving the City and Emily was kind of a centerpiece for the night as she wove the theme throughout the night with three songs about wanting, finding, and having love. Other than our song, she sang "Taylor the Latte Boy" and "Make Someone Happy". She spoked briefly before each performance, telling a story about finding love in the big city. EMILY KILLED EVERY SINGLE SONG! She was a huge hit for the night. I hope she doesn't hate me for saying this, but she was really nervous the whole night because she had never performed for the people at her church before, yet they all knew that she was a performer. It was kind of her coming out party for this nice facet of her persona to them. And they LOVED IT! So many wonderful comments came her way and I am so proud of her! You GO EMILY! Video was taken of the night, and I promise I'll post it here as soon as I get ahold of it.

Saturday. Work.

Sunday. KICKBALL! Yes, I joined an adult kickball league and am on a team with KTD--the Dirty Pirate Hookers. I'm a new member of the team and as such, I do not have a Dirty Pirate Hooker name yet, but it's being worked on. So, our first game of the season was against Balls N' Dolls--all the teams have "clever" names. I felt like Emily starting my first game of kickball since maybe middle school, but both times I got up to "bat", I got on base. Of course, there was a big mistake on my part: after the first time I got on base, another player on our team got a good kick in that was caught...or at least that's what I saw. As the rules state, I need to touch back on my base before I could go for the next base. After I saw the ball caught, I went back to first. In doing this, I missed the ball being dropped and so I stayed at first while several people were yelling at me to "GO! NICK! GO!" You all know me: I don't like being yelled at... So the other team got the ball to someone within feet of me and they threw it directly at my chest. My response: "At least I used my chest!" WHAT?!!? Glad to see not much as changed since I moved, huh? Anyway, after the game we proceeded to our sponsoring bar where we played several games of flip cup and had an altogether (that's the second time I've used that word in this post, or ever) legendary time. Finding my way back to Astoria from the Lower East Side was interesting--especially while a little drunk. But I made it back and had myself a delicious dinner of PJ&B and two apples while finishing the season two finale of LOST. I will soon be commencing on season three--my FAVORITE!!!

I guess that's all for now. Hope you're all doing well. Let me know what's happening in your lives, please.

Happy Adventures!