same shit new hat in 2025

2024 was -- happy, sad, bad, glad, great, late, efficient, debilitating. These words that kinda rhyme-ish don't do justice to how chaotic this year was.

You would think that based off of people's IG dumps and their captchas that everyone had a weird year. I don't think that's necessarily true. We're getting to the age where a year full of ups and downs is just the new normal. Not so much different from mine in that aspect, but the same in the fact that it did happen.

This post is more of a double-trouble kind of deal since I already let my feelings out on my private insta (yes we're still doing finsta's in 2025), but as a more solidified way of expressing my thoughts and things, this blog shall serve, as a conduit!

I lost plenty of friends last year. No brainer. I think in that I had a lot of time to look at myself as a man, an individual and assess where I stood in all of my relationships. My ex-gf who I still love dearly and am still close (enough) with and I were on the outs and I'd not really adjusted to living in Washington just yet. I didn't (well, still don't) love the people that I have to deal with on a daily basis. Mainly at my place of employment, which, if you haven't noticed, you spend majority of your time at during the week. For me, all of those things colliding all at once was not a good combo at all. Talk about a humongous L.

But in those times at the bottom, where the only place to go is up, you have moments of clarity. And they add up. Going to school in Arlington all those years ago and having pre-existing relationships played in my favor at a degree I wasn't expecting. Lighting a fire under those same relationships that hadn't been tended to during my time in New York was a great thing. Then you realize you have more and more people you know from your actual alma mater who live around you and want to grab a coffee and catch up. And then you join a rec soccer league on a whim and think you're Maradona for a few weeks. And then you realize that Baltimore is a train ride away, or that Philly is just a short Amtrak?

Things started to make sense after a while. You get into the groove of biking to the market on Saturday mornings and stumbling into a museo for an hour or so just because (or to see the only ever Expressionist exhibit from Paris that will only be in the US for the foreseeable future), going to Shaw or the plaza and seeing legends spanning from Pooch to Darren Harper, having a few at your local, linking the next day with some folks to watch the games at another bar; you can kinda see where I'm going. 

It'll be 2 years here in a few months. The time has flown by for both good and bad reasons. I don't necessarily relish the negative moments, but I do find solace in knowing that when I thought I was truly alone, that I wasn't alone at all. That's thanks in part to a large list of people that I have no business naming because 1. they don't read this blog and 2. it's not that deep. But also it's thanks in part to me for not giving up on trying to make sense of what my life was then, and even now, and moving accordingly. 

Everything, in fact, does happen for a reason. 

Quebecois For A Moment

 The art of solo traveling is that you are alone. Quite literally. You have to plan what it is you're going to do day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute. Maybe not as far as that, but the point remains. You have to deal with the customs agent wondering why some random American is coming to their country for vacation, language barriers between you and the taxi drivers, not getting hit by a car while you're there (this happened to me last winter in Longueuil), amongst other things.

But once you past that, you're there. Your mileage may vary, but you're there. That could mean a plethora of things. It could mean anything in between you finding a bar that you go to every night during your stay or a cafe that you make your acquaintance to for their fresh western omelettes. The world is yours it seems. Time moves slightly slower. It's as if you're an NPC character that is on the loading screen of your favorite RPG. 

My fascination with Canada, and Montreal specifically, is not nascent. When Trump won the presidency in 2016, I joked with my mum about how we should pack the entire family up and move there. But even before that conversation, there was always this myth and grandeur that flooded my mind about what went on across the border. I've heard horror stories from childhood friends about crossing into Vancouver from Washington State as adolescents and getting chased by border patrol. They're still alive to tell the tale by the way..

It probably all started with me being such a huge hockey fan and following the Canadian teams in the NHL since high school. You start to learn about the legends: Patrick Roy, Gretzky, Jean Beliveau, The Rocket Richard. And the myth grows! Where are these fuckers from? What about their hometowns have made them so legendary? 

Years would go by before I would travel to Canada for the first time, with Montreal being the city that my girlfriend and I picked. The French aspect of the city makes you feel like you are in Europe. Zone Petione. Arret. The old town is straight out of the 1800's for all we know. Le gens are extraordinarily accommodating, having the mental edge of being able to switch effortlessly from French to English for someone who studied Spanish all throughout their schooling. The city itself is, unironically and without trying to sound like a fucking loser, a melting pot. You really just have to get there to see what I'm talking about. 

What in the Helen of Troy is going on?

 Well, well, well...

It has occurred to me that I've been in DC aka the District of Columbia aka Drama City for a little over a year now. How time flies! 

I am going to be honest-- I hated it here for the first few months. Part of that is due to naivety. Leaving a place like New York, you are kind of drunk, for a lack of better words, wherever you land. Wait, beer goggles! That's what I wanted to say. You know, the feeling where you are on top of the world in a sense, and then come back to reality once you snap out of it. That essentially sums up what it was like living here for about 5-6 months. The bars didn't stay open until 4. The people never took off their sports coats. The yuppies never stopped talking about mortgage rates. It's an amazing thing in the worst of ways that you actually have to be here to understand it.

But then you accept the fact that you live somewhere that's different, and that is completely normal. Better yet, that there is nothing wrong with living where you do. I ran into someone from VCU that I hadn't seen since we graduated in 2019, and she shared some of the same pains that I did when she moved to DC in 2020. "Yuppiesville USA" may or may not have been the term that was used in that convo at some point.

It's nice here, ya know, once you can appreciate it for what it is. Unfortunately, the government isn't going anywhere. And by that I mean the (wo)men that parade their $500 suits and speed in the AMGs in residential neighborhoods are not going anywhere. Fine. I never liked them, and I probably never will. But underneath that gaudy exoskeleton of transplants (guilty) that give this place a terrible reputation that it often deserves lies something more universal, even desirable to those who wish to live in a vibrant, multicultural and decently sized place with plenty of shit to do. The amount of ethnic eateries, albeit scattered throughout, is innumerable. Ethiopian. Afghani. Salvadoran. Mexicana. Thai. Indian. They're everywhere! Then there's the people, but not the ones that I mentioned before. Folks that have interesting jobs outside of the public sector or contracting that you see at your local watering hole and speak with you instead of at you. They'll tell you about how they moved here from Syracuse in the 80's and never made it back there for some reason, or revel about their hometown in Czechia while y'all are out slamming beers a day or two before they go back. 

There are worse places than DC. Plenty. On the flip, there probably aren't as many places that can tick as many boxes as DC does, aside from other major cities. Reliable public transit, big city feel with less square mileage, world class museums, etc. etc. I was doing myself a disservice trying to make my neighborhood experience in Northeast like it was in Bushwick. It's just not possible. And admitting that is and was the first step I had to take in order to get to where I am today. Someone who does not only tolerate, but is comfortable and relatively enjoys, where they live, after living in the greatest city in the US. If you were to ask me how I was doing 6 months ago, I would be nowhere near close to even mentioning the word "tolerate". 

So the story goes. I will continue enjoying my personal Paris of the US, my clean Metro, my NB 725s, and all of the things that have gotten me here up to this point. I've no clue when my time here will come to an end, or what's next after this. But I'm over setting timelines on shit like this. They're infuriating and waste time, time that I could be using drinking a glass of $5 vinho verde from Trader Joes. So there's no "au revoir" this time. Simply a "plus tard", again, again, and again. 

And that's, just fine. 

Goodbye...really?

 As of late, I have been thinking "Why did Joan Didion write "Goodbye to all of that"...?". I feel as if this is an archaic idea of mine; she wrote it in 1967, and everyone knows that the gist of the essay/short story/whatever you want to call it is that yes, you can stay too long at the fair. I get that part. Dare I say, WE get that part. So, that's not the part that I've been pondering for what seems like months now. I'm honestly still trying to construe a sentence, a statement, a stream of thoughts that can really describe what I have been thinking, but all I can come up with is "is there really anything to say goodbye to?". It's not elegant. Not at all. But, it's the best that I can do.

A TLDR of her essay is that after 8 years in New York, the city lost it's shine. Her husband had already moved to LA and she'd been to one too many parties. Ok. Unbeknownst to her at the time, she would be able to afford to keep a home in Manhattan while living in California full time. In the literal sense, there was really nothing she was saying "goodbye" to. Instead, it was really a "see ya later". That's too easy of a deduction, and too literal for my tasting for it to be the answer to my question. 

When you leave a place, you never really are gone. The ghosts of your tempered past lie wherever they may. It could be the bridge you walked across to get to work, the coffee shop you frequented on your lunch break, the park you sat in every spring time, you name it. When I think of the few places I've lived after leaving Chesterfield, it's always "I'll be back when I can make it, when I have the time...", but never a cold turkey "goodbye to all of that". There are pieces of you that you leave in those places. My interest in Latin American history piqued in La Republica and Las Condes. My love for skateboarding is rooted in skating around the Chesterfield Towne Center with the Class Fam (if you know, you know). My keen desire to live in a bustling, thriving city where everything is connected one way or another was born in Brooklyn. The trips I took as a kid to see my extended family in Maryland made it so I loved public transit. I can still remember sitting on those dingy plastic-cloth mesh seats that WMATA continues to use to this day. 

You can't say "goodbye" to a place that still lives inside you, at least I think. If you think about it, there's a little piece of every place you've ever been wherever you go. 

So this brings me back to my original question: is there really anything to say goodbye to? There has to be, since most things have a beginning and an end. But when it comes to lived experiences, those moments that are plastered in your mental? Those are forever. 

Hasta La Raiz, 2k23

 Well, well, well...

Much like a Spotify Wrapped, the end of the year comes unknowingly, in a burst, and leaves very little room for preparation. Aside from the fact that you know that it's coming, but unaware of the actual day, or time.

Where can one start? The war in Ukraine is still going on, the war in Gaza is still going on, and plenty of other wars that we don't and probably won't hear about in the news are still going on. Sudan, the Congo, Yemen, Syria, the lot. The United Nations struggles to come to an accord on how to actually put an end to any of these longstanding conflicts, aside from from throwing lots of money towards initiatives that work, until they don't. It sucks that we wake up everyday reading WaPo, NYT, FT, Forbes, whatever, seeing headlines about how fucked up the world is. Boring take, yes. It rings true, though. As of late, I've definitely noticed that I've not been interested in digging deep into news articles as much as I would have in the past. Learning that you can OD on news? News to me. Pun intended. 

Anyways, let's get to the real year in review. Moved from New York to DC. I don't regret it, most days at least. There are plenty of things that I miss that I wish I could've just stuck in my pocket and brought with me. My problem is that I've earnestly tried to make my experience in The District the same as it was up north. That's just not possible. And it's taken me months to realize that. All for the better, albeit a little bit later than I expected. My job here is a job. Nothing special or anything to brag about, just like any other job that I've had. What I will say though, is that it's been good for my professional development. But who cares about that shit in their late 20's anyway? 

There are some choice things to appreciate about this city. The museums are free, which is also super corny, but it is nice being able to go to the Renwick on your lunch break. My local breakfast spot is dirt cheap. The metro is clean. People, sometimes, smile at you when you are running on the trail. It's like one huge town of almost 700,000 people.

But, speaking of people, the lot of them suck. Brown nosers are everywhere. The ladder climbers. The Hill Bros. It's unspeakably annoying being surrounded by suits all of the time. I've also gotten the most amount of parking tickets in my life being here for what, 7 months? Parking police here walk with their dicks hanging out. They're seriously the worst. 

Then there's the inequality, the tent towns, overpriced brunches, plenty of other shit to complain about it. All in all, this place is, for a lack of better words, interesting.

New York will always be a quintessential place to be. I'd be lying if I wasn't trying to make my way back their one day, but we'll see how the cards play out.

I went back to Montreal, learned some french, drank lots of beer, walked from one side of the city to the other, and really experienced the Joie de Vivre. 

I got kicked out of El Bar in Philly for speaking spanish, went to see Le Tigre in Baltimore, made plenty of trips to Richmond, moved into my first apartment dolo in DC. It's been a year, to say the least. 

I've laughed, cried, broken multiple skateboards, popped open plenty of bevs, taken tons of photos, sat on the Amtrak at 2 am going down the grease coast, spent the most time I have with my family in over 3 years, went to therapy (bc it's free at my job, don't trip), and, most importantly, have found solace in myself. 

There's not really much meat in this post. It's more, like, a rant of the squiggles that roll around my brain. 

To end, I've learned a lot about myself and those around me in the last year. The good, the bad. I find respite in knowing that even with the grandiose amount of change from this year, it's still been a good one. Change is quite uncomfortable, I can't lie. But, it teaches you *insert any cliche lesson here*.

Here's to 2024 and whatever it brings. I pray to God that I don't see any of you at Helen's on New Years. 

The Art of the Interview / Shutdown Shit

 As we all get older, we start to wonder "is this how interviews were supposed to be?"

I mean, I remember my first job after VCU only being one interview, and then starting work in no more than 2-3 weeks.

Every on I've had after that? One interview with the office heads, then one with their director. Then you wait for a response for a few weeks. Then you get offered the job. A process that often can take 1-2 months, depending on when you hear back from the initial job announcement. 

Is this what we signed up for? This reminds me of that one video that the dude from Blue's Clues made about why he left the show. No, it's not bc he went to jail, even though we all thought he did. It was because he went to university. Oh the irony. Or is better to say, similarity? Syntax isn't important right now.

One thing that I've learned about the art of the interview is you kind of have to be having an out of body experience. Rather than being possessed by the ghost that haunts your living space or whatever, you almost have to be everybody but yourself. You have to do whatever it takes for you to embody whatever mundane qualities that they're looking for (mundane, because there are only so many different ways to ask the same question about the same thing for 20-30 minutes.) Eye contact matters. Posture, unfortunately, matters. Dress matters! It's ok if you don't want to wear a tie for the second interview, I just wore a sweater over my Nordstrom button down that I got from Goodwill (which was a STEAL). Concise answers matter. It really comes down to delivery. 

SIDEBAR

Now onto the shutdown...

Can we really even be surprised? 

It's the same shit every year. Gridlock in both chambers of Congress. A defense bill that should have already been passed gets nixed by individuals who shouldn't have the right to represent any sort of body politic. The House leaving a day early? It's like they don't even want to pretend they give a fuck, so it seems.

The good? A WaPo article makes claim that the probability of a stop gap is there, which is good until the end of October. Then the shenanigans start again. The bad? It's all bad honestly. The question is when are we going to have non delusional leaders who aren't being led by a man who may or may not be (he def is) a convicted felon? 

Having an opinion on American politics hoy en dia isn't even worth it. You are either a libtard, a fascist, or a communist. Hell, they changed it from being a communist to a socialist actually! It's polarization has turned our already inept leaders into defunct losers, or just showing that they were always that way in the first place.

Alas, I shall enjoy my coffee on this rainy DC day, and revel in the fact that I am still the most interesting and attractive man in this backwards city. Carry the hell on...

Ratio

 Scenario: My boss calls me into their room for a "counseling" session, aka she tells me what I'm doing great at, and what I can do better. Obviously when she said that I was a pleasure to be around and had such a gracious attitude my head was in the clouds. Then, as she gave me my criticisms, my head was still in the clouds. Who cares, I was having a moment.

After the boring part where we were talking about work, the floor was open for whatever was on our minds. We bounced off of each other. She mentioned how she hadn't lived in the states for more than 7 years, how she was eyeballing a job in NYC to be closer to family, and things of that nature. I followed up with how I was having a hard time transitioning from BK to DC, and blurted "I fucking hate DC." She wasn't surprised by my choice of words. I got to say, she's a cool cat. But then, in that moment, I was in fact having a moment. I realized that I can't compare two cities that are known for two different things. In layman's terms, I can't extract orange juice from an apple. She echoed my subtle disposition to my new found point of view, and could see a sense of relief on my face as I realized that I, myself, was the problem and not where I was living. 

That night, I went to bed with a different mindset. Also, to be transparent, I know this sounds corny as shit. But, to be transparent, I don't give a fuck. Anyway, I woke up the next day actually living in DC. I let the cicadas sing all night outside my window. I let the natural sunlight creak through my blinds to wake me up at dawn, only to be 15 minutes late to work (just like everyone else). I was finally doing what I had been planning to do all along-- to just be. I don't know why people have such a hard time doing that, and it confuses you even more when you see yourself falling down that same path. Still, it's important to realize when you are priming yourself for disappointment, and to mitigate it right then and there.

Sure, I can miss other cities. Shit, I still miss Santiago. And the shitty city. But isn't the whole point of being, specifically being in your 20's and even your 30's, to experience new cities, new happenings, new, things? There's a lot to like about DC if you actually put your mind to it. That's kinda where the beauty lies. You, for all intents and purposes, get what you put into it. I've learned to enjoy my commute to my job where although I think most of the people in my building are complete jabronis, it's still a place that breeds tons of intelligence and intelligent people. I hate to say it, but it's true. I've come to fall back into the southern-esque way that some folks move, speak, talk, and just are around here. It gives me slight tinges of being back in The Field. I was even blasting Lynyrd Skynyrd on my way to the skatepark today. I've come to enjoy my neighbors giving me the gossip about my drag of a neighbor who's been calling the cops on my car to give me tickets. Sidebar: that was lame as fuck when I figured that out. I've come to enjoy my quiet block, and having the fall air hit my face as I open my back door first thing in the morning. I've come to appreciate a lot of things that I should have been in the last few months in the last few days, and I hope that this trend continues.

It's weird. You feel like you've been in a place for so long when you haven't even been there for a year. It's been almost 6 months for me. That's enough time for some tangible, noticeable change. And I'll allow it. 

So there's that. Take whatever you might from this. Or take nothing. I don't care. Here's a picture of the DC streetcar.

If you saw this in person, you'd understand.