<insert adorable vintage-faded baby picture here>

When I was a kid, turning 10 was the crowning milestone because it meant you were in 5th grade and you were only a year away from becoming a man in Junior High School.  Plus you had two digits in your age now, how could you not be cool.  I think I got a Transformers lunchbox, plastic thermos included.  Perfect for a PB&J on white bread and pudding snack to fit next to it.  The theme might actually have been M.A.S.K.  Which ever one, Hasbro was making a killing on unsuspecting kids back then.

Turning 16 meant a license to drive your dad's old jalopy.  As well as 2am White Castle/Diner runs after a night of Puzzle Fighter on Super Nintendo.  I don't remember what I got that year.  It might have been a pair of in-line skates.  Baur's with the clear wheels and aluminum bearings.  Wrist guards were ok but no knee and elbow pads because they weren't cool.  I distinctly remember having a replica Marty Brodeur goalie mask that I cherished.  I don't even know where that is now.

I was 17 when I started college.  So 18 didn't mean thank-the-patriotic-duty-lord I can finally vote, it meant I could finally get into NYC clubs without having to use someone else's ID anymore.  I got a birthday cake with my name spelled wrong on it.

I had food poisoning the night before my 21st.  I spent the birthday curled up under my sheets and purging Chinese takeout from the previous evening.  Highlights were high fever, nausea, and cold chills.

So it would seem after today there's really nothing left to look forward to (aside from dates of actual relevance--marriage, birth of first child, kids graduating, and jazz like that).  Then it doesn't become so much about yourself anymore.  The older we get, the more happiness is found through celebrating other people's birthdays, promotions, crowning achievements, etc. and not our own.  You actually live for others.  That lunchbox you had doesn't seem so important anymore.  What an odd notion.

I'm not big on birthdays and never have been.  So thanks to everyone who's made me feel like this one, cold, miserable day on the fall calendar has been worthy of mention for the past 25 years.

I'm thankful, I'm appreciative, and I do feel the love.

And if you're wondering, yes I was a cute, albeit fat, baby.

So that wherever I go, wherever Life takes me,
They will always be Behind me, Watching me, Supporting me.

"Do what makes you Happy."

Is the advice I've always given my friends to those who have seeked it.  May it be ie. transfering from a top tier school to a traditionally lower ranked institution to be more happy, or taking that lower paying position at an obscure company in comparison to Big Name Megacorp because you know it will be more fulfilling.  Herein lies the paradox where the dichotomy of happiness now or happiness later is rendered; in effect, instant gratification or prolonged enjoyment.  This, of course, deviates with whom you speak--the proponents of nothing promised tomorrow but today, or those that have meticulously planned out the longevity that success convincingly reaps.

Both are sensible in their rationale, nor is it feasible to say which is more apropos than the other.  Why should I suffer being malcontent at an institution when I know I will spiritually be happier elsewhere.  Leave everything and travel to the other side of the world.  Without risk there is no reward.  The effect, however, might well be less succes in the future, which will inevitably cause hardship.  The reality of what you've gotten yourself into may hit you like a brick dropped from a tall building.  You're way in over your head, and you've just realized it.

Proponents of the other side of the spectrum will reason to agonize now if reward is the resulting by-product.  The knights of prosperity will forever defend the notion that a little grit and anguish in the present will be well worth the consummation that awaits in the future.  You may not mind being miserable at what you do because your place of employment brings recognition and stability.  While everything superficially is certain, nothing short of your soul is ever really clear.  Which brings us to the idea of the Good Life.

The Good Life is a relative mindset.  For all intents and purposes, being a trust fund child with throngs of Old Money neither dictates nor is a requisite to the good life.  For me the Good Life was never so much a state of being as it was a process, a general direction to guide you more than it ever is a destination.

Happiness later or happiness now.

We like to think we can predict the future.  We like to think we understand the present.  I'm not sure we ever do.

.Here and There.

Diane's 25th.
We need to dig up the We're Cool picture from when we're 15 and do a side-by-side comparison.
Which would show that we look exactly the same as we did 10 years ago.

Bon Chon bon chon Bon Chon

Avenue Q

I took the photo opportunity.  Sorry.  I couldn't resist.

Eats: Bombar | Gobo | Dip

I don't do candid.

Velvet pillows give me that warm fuzzy feeling everyone yearns for on the inside.

It was the tour de meat that night.

Old habits die hard.

Kitti Kitti

The wheel of cheese they made my pasta in.

Basta Pasta

Rhos and Sigmas.
We were having dinner in the area and decided to swing by.
Finally, after 7 years I got to sit in the old people's chair.  I never get to sit in the old people's chair.
I feel as if I've finally been validated.

This would be the Theta respective.

The suntan, and the Claritin, were in full effect at the Park this day.

Subway Series.

Fine-feathered friends.

One of the greatest all-around meals.

Sea Grill Rockefeller Plaza

Caterpillars

Making a wish requires squinting really hard.

OMG just blow it out already.

Sushi Sam

Eaaaaaaassssy.

This is by far my most favourite picture of the moment.
We look genuinely excited.
About paying the bill apparently.

Aer

I. Flirtacious Ho | Sal's poppin' | and Doug E. Fresh below

mmmMMM a little bit of sloppy.

Boom.  It's On.

"Miles From Nowhere"

A better part of the week consisted of lounging and munching.  Both shown here.

The Infinity Pool.

Sometimes candid pictures actually come out nice.

Occasionally, I have episodes of mental disability.  This photo depicts such an instance.

Lunch at China Beach.

Jetskiing.  Before the ocean owned us.

Her twentieth try in getting on the pink floaty thingie.

Feed me!  Lots of good exotic island food and local beer.

Piña coladas and Bahama Mamas at China Grill.

Lucaya at night.

The sun during the day was killing me.
Eventually opted for a couple's deep-tissue massage which was like muscle relaxation on crack.

Courtyard at Iries.

I actually caught that chicken at the local Bahamian market.
Now that's what I call a tall glass of Kalik.

Only warm weather and clear, sunny blue skies could make me this cheerful at 6AM on a Monday at LaGuardia.

Taking a Break and Escaping the February cold.

Off to the Grand Bahama Islands Lucaya Resort for Valentine's Week.
Being a Starwood Platinum Preferred Guest has proven to be something of good use. 

I'm not coming back until I've gotten myself a sorry excuse for a tan and mastered me some jet skis.