May her memory be a blessing...

Today, a woman who was very influential in my life passed away. This is the piece I wrote about my memories of her in the middle of June, having heard she was sick. I wrote while recovering from my second surgery on my leg.

Thinking about dance after not having danced for six months made me extremely happy, if tearful... I'm not yet up to the kind of dance that would have impressed Fran, but I am back on two feet and working towards it.

My memories:
I remember the first day I met you, Fran. I was stretching outside the audition room, waiting for West Side Story dance auditions to start. I was a freshman and I’d only signed up for dance and acting auditions, I think. I didn’t yet have a strong enough voice to sing for Alan. At least, that was the impression I had from my mother’s high standard. Anyway, I hadn’t set foot in Theater South yet except to see the production of Our Town (and the One Acts). I was avoiding high school drama, by avoiding drama all together - because I held a Sag and Aftra card, and how would that go over w/typical teenagers who were dreaming of life on the stage?

But despite my attempts to avoid my TS fate, I became friends w/so many cast and crew members. I thought, perhaps, I would hone my craft. I’d already decided I wanted to commit my time to cultivating friendships rather than getting rejected by the casting agents William Morris sent me to. So, finally, a friend (Greg Stemkowski) who knew about my childhood acting (from catching the Disney movie I was in that played on channel 11), convinced me to get involved. Who could refuse a face like Greg’s?

So there I was, warming up right outside of the audition room. I was wearing a black bodysuit and what would probably pass as yoga pants these days. I’d only lived in Great Neck for just over a year, and very few people knew much about my life back in California. Some girl said, “hey, you dance for real, don’t you?” I’d been taking dance classes since I was 2 1/2.  “I’ve taken lessons,” I called back nonchalantly. Everyone had probably taken lessons, at least amongst the girls. That’s what moms do with their daughters, right? I had taken 3 kinds of dance, which eventually became 4, ballet, tap, jazz and ‘street funk’ — but you know all of that, Fran, because you recognized it too - immediately - and gave me a role in West Side Story that took my breath away with every high kick. There I was, a featured dancer, and I promise you, every part of my body thought that those moments on stage would become my college essay.

The rush of getting a routine perfectly right as the curtain closed on a pose impossible to hold for just one more second, that was one of the most exhilarating feelings I ever could have imagined having. I was a Shark. It didn’t matter that my pale complexion and red-hair would have told you otherwise. A lesson in bronzer ensued. And my expertise in eyeliner did not go to waste. In fact, it became my reputation so much so that I’d often do make-up for the guys in shows for the coming years. How I loved having that skill, and so what if it came from professional make-up artists, very few people would ever know that.

On stage without wardrobe malfunctions.

The following year we did Cabaret, so, of course, with my voice still inconsistent despite it’s years of training, I was dancing my sexiest heart out. On stage in Victoria’s Secret underwear, and a sequined Banana Republic vest that my New-York-City-living aunt had bought me. I have the picture and I’m not sure how my mother bought me those items w/out asking more questions! During previews, you remember, those times we would show a few scenes in an assembly with nearly the whole school in attendance? We did a big kit kat club number that, thanks to the structure of the preview ended with curtains down (and darkness). Lucky me, as I was laying with my back on the ground doing a full split in the air, when the vest, formerly snapped shut, bust wide open. That’s what I got for not letting you do my costuming, I guess.  But I don’t know if I ever told you. In fact, I told as few people as humanly possible. Instead of explaining the situation, I formed an internal lacing system with safety pins and, of things I had handy, glow in the dark elastic. It survived the shows, but I never could look at that vest again.  In fact, to this day when I’m asked my most embarrassing moment, that’s the first story that comes to mind.

So back to where I started, the first day dancing with you became many days, and to my good fortune, even when my priorities changed in high school, and I started observing shabbat my junior year, you found me in the halls and asked, “Sheridan, why didn’t you audition for the musical this year?” And I explained to you that I couldn’t imagine getting approval not to perform on a Friday night. “What?!” You said, aghast! “I would have built choreography for that! Of course I would. To not have you on stage is a real loss.” I couldn’t believe my ears, Fran. And thanks to that conversation, I did Music Man in my senior year. And while I couldn’t accept the singing solo Alan Schwartz offered because I’d be out Friday night, I could dance my heart out because you knew how to make that happen. Your choreography was a blessing, even when it was difficult. Even when we had to go over it again. It would always elicit a smile from yours truly.

You are truly one of the reasons I am able to look back fondly at Great Neck South. For its uniqueness, its understanding, its ability to meet my needs as a student, learner and active participant in the community. I went on to get to BAs - one in English and one in Modern Jewish Studies (from Columbia and the Jewish Theological Seminary) and from there, my Master’s in Education, focusing in informal and communal Jewish education, also at JTS.  I worked with teenagers for the first three years after graduate school - first creating educational material for youth groups and then at the Sid Jacobson JCC, where I was encouraged many times to get involved in their musical. Then, I started working at my alma mater - Columbia University. Nearly five years later, I’m still here, serving as the Assistant Director of the Institute for Israel and Jewish Studies. I sometimes joke with my colleagues and the PhD students and faculty whom I oversee that my public high school was a lot like a yeshiva. I learned the book of Job, I took Hebrew, I was able to comfortably observe shabbat … remarkable, really. You were part of that experience, and I’m so grateful to say that’s so. While in college, I had the opportunity to see Cabaret on Broadway with Alan Cumming as the Emcee - it was extraordinary, to sit at the small tables so close to the performers and smile so big to keep myself from belting out the songs with the cast. From the obscene to the absurd and back again, or as they say in Cabaret; “every night we have the battle to keep the girls from taking off all of their clothing. So don’t go away, who knows? Tonight we may lose the battle!” Well, I wish you well with every battle you face, a complete healing as we say in hebrew, a refuah sheleima. Thank you for always being an inspiration in your dedication, understanding and commitment to excellence.

Love always, Sheridan Gayer GNSHS ’95-’99

P.S. I write this just days after having a very involved surgery to correct something that went wrong when I broke my leg in January. I have run a tour in Israel on crutches since then, but I have hobbled around with a cane since. Right now I’m in a cast for the second time in six months, and for the next two weeks I’m not to do anything but keep my leg elevated and use crutches when I go to the bathroom or get up for water. The less often I’m up, the happier the doctors are. That’s a long way of saying I haven’t walked normally in almost six months, and it has been a privilege to recall my days on stage with you during my own recovery.

Broad Strokes & Big Pictures: Moses, the Exodus and Israel Today

D'var Torah for Chai Minyan at Shaare Zedek, Jan 4, 2013
 
Here we are, at the start of Shemot, the second book of the Torah.  We're immediately concerned with the naming of the generations, the tribes, and their plentiful offspring, but our main focus is really Moses.  Moses has his fair share of difficulty with identity development and in his relationship with God, but eventually he gathers the Israelites for the culmination of Shemot's story--the act for which the Greek speaking Jews of Alexandria, Egypt named this book-- the Exodus Aigyptous.  Which generations of Jews have shortened to what we call Exodus.  

Ok- for those of you that missed it - there’s my crazy cool fact straight from Nahum Sarna - The name Exodus is derived from Jews whose vernacular was Greek. I like the notion that even the non-hebraicized name evolved from our people, who lived within Egypt at the time. And even though that leaves us considering two different types of Jews, in two different places, using different languages, I really want *us* to focus tonight on the broadest strokes we can imagine for Jews, no matter time or their location.

You see, recently I attended an event where David Ben Gurion’s grandson told stories of David’s experiences as the Prime Minister of Israel. In 1954, he traveled to the United States to meet with President Eisenhower and seek the help and support for difficult moments of the fledgling Israel. During that trip, in a meeting with the then State Secretary of Administration, John Foster Dulles, Ben Gurion was confronted with a high degree of arrogance:
Tell me, Prime Minister –  Dulles said - Who are the people you and your country really represent?” How is it that Jews are really the same? Being that they are Jews of Yemen, Poland, Romania, Morocco, Iraq, the Soviet Union or Brazil ”? After 2000 years of exile, can we really be talking about one nation, one culture, one legacy of Jewish tradition?

Now, for those of you knowledgeable about Israeli immigration waves and even current policies, you might be inclined to agree with Dulles at least to some extent.

But Ben-Gurion replied:
“See, Mr. Secretary, and only 200 years ago the ship Mayflower sailed from England with the first settlers who settled in what is now is the great democratic powers called the United States of America. Please, walk out on the streets and ask ten North American children the following:
What was the name captain of the ship? How long was the journey? What did the passengers eat during the Journey, and how did the sea behave? Probably , you will not get many accurate answers,” he surmised.
But “Please see now it’s been 3,000 years since the Jews left Egypt. I ask you that in one your travels around the world, try and meet ten Jewish children in different countries; asked them what was the travel called?
What was the name captain of the group?
How long was the journey?
What were the passengers eating during the journey, and finally ask how did the sea behave?
“When you have the answers, and wonder again about Israel, try to remember and appreciate the question you just asked me”.

Lately, the media has focused a lot on what separates one type of Jew from another. Whether it’s so called “Jewish garb,” economic standing, Israeli politics, women of the wall - or larger issues of gender segregation - color of skin, country of origin,  issues surrounding right of return,  or more complicated still, right to identify as a Jew, or marriage rights, it is so easy to get caught up in the disparate  and often disheartening reality. Sometimes, these are issues relevant to American society or global Jewish issues, sometimes Israel takes an American idea and translates it for it’s own cultural impact. This spring, for instance, a production of Hairspray will be performed with the Ethiopian cultural center in Jerusalem, in an effort to raise awareness about race relations in Israel. But for now, I’d like to set aside the dirty differences that may frustrate us. To acknowledge that “claims” on Torah are difficult, complicated, and understanding of Torah is ever evolving. I’d like to suggest that while this particular book of Torah emphasizes the difficult necessity of the Israelite journey from Egypt to Israel, this Parsha focuses on the hardship at home. It provides space for dissenting opinions. Moses is critical of himself and questioning of God. He doesn’t trust that he can convey God’s message to the “elders of Israel,” so much so he allows his brother to speak for him even after being given the rod that will allow him to conduct miracles to imbue the elders with faith. He’s run out of Egypt once and his confidence is shot.

I have to say - if the path of righteousness isn’t inherent or natural or even direct for the leader whom we give as the gold standard, all the moreso it doesn’t have to be for us. I am hoping we can all find more compassion where we differ from one another and when we approach the other, as well as when we approach Torah.

May we all be blessed to loosen our bounds on Torah, to listen to others understanding, reading, interpretation and incarnation. May we know a Torah that has endless life and endless meaning. May we not be limited by a search for proof, for evidence, for our own hand prints on the building bricks of the Egypt that remains today. But may we also build communities of Torah that reflect our values, our understanding, our interpretations, and may we learn to teach one another when we hear the voice of God and when we raise our voices in prayer.

(One final thought) Just over the holiday season there was a two part series entitled “Back to the Beginning” which was Christiane Amanpour’s search, along with her son, for the root of the three major monotheistic religions - in a scene where she was attempting to find where Noah’s Ark rests. One commentator, the author of Walking the Bible pointed out - We’re not going to find some lost voice of God, like a Beatles recording, that we can digitally remaster and put out for all to experience on the internet,” … many people believe that “if you can prove that one screw existed, you can prove that the entire machine existed” … 3000 years of our story and we’re still telling it in exciting, enlivening ways. We're gathering to hear it, to repeat it, to celebrate it. For me, that’s enough to prove the entire machine exists… although God as a Beatles album sure would be sweet.

Bring on the Warmth

I’m grateful for warmth!

This past Sunday night, I decided to hike over the 4 avenues to a friend’s apartment sometime after 9pm. The offer was extended with love, but I very hesitantly agreed to the walk, because it was quite cold and quiet around the NYC neighborhood in which I live. Layering up, I grabbed my red sweatshirt off the top of my hamper. First of all, it’s from the clothing swap we did in the fall. In ‘getting’ this great sweatshirt, I ‘gave up’ shoes and clothing galore, the majority of which went to a great local charity called Housing Works. Second of all, I’d put it there not because it was dirty, as much as because I didn’t want to hang it up. So it was a pleasant surprise when this red hoodie was wonderfully warm, thanks to the radiator it had been resting near. And, on my cross town trek, I thought about the other things that had made me warm throughout the day: Brunch with Aimee at the Mud Stop where the mint tea and mimosas included for my $13 fistful were deliciously warming. As was the conversation, and the welcome face she had when I lost my sense of direction and showed up 20 minutes late!
Then, I reflected on volunteer day for Limmud NY as all the final details come together for a conference I’ve been working on for countless hours. Full of wonderfully talented, enthusiastic, and dedicated people, many of them first time volunteers, and witnessing everything being put in order - magnificent! (Though, for talent's sake, you can see mine isn't in art - my Check in sign was mediocre at best!)
Back in reality, I’d already made it two avenues, and was still pretty warm. Ok, I’m a California girl. Maybe I was losing a bit of feeling in my extremities, but bearable. I realized it was likely a result of “warm soup belly” which I enjoyed at my favorite Union Square haunt along with more wonderful conversation with a friend who had also attended volunteer day. Finally, it occurred to me, I couldn’t believe I was even thinking about being cold, when we’d run across so many “pantsless” subway riders that evening in union square. The smile across my face returns now, and just erupted then, thinking about “those crazy kids” and folks who act like kids ... who participated in the near-naked public displays thanks ImprovEverywhere - you’ve got gumption, which is especially impressive on such a freezing day. Of course there was also getting a chance to finally check my weekend mail when I got home. (Hey, I've been off accomplishing it all, I've been quite busy!) In my mailbox, I found the most extraordinary thank you card from a most extraordinary friend. I'm coming to believe that one person's gratitude only helps cultivate gratitude in others. Appreciation is never underrated.

When I arrived at my destination, and we caught up about the last few weeks, work, writing, volunteering, planning details of my upcoming vacation, it occurred to me how lucky I am that it just takes a few steps from my apartment to an amazingly wonderful city filled with good friends, good food, and so many fun opportunities. I have cultivated a family of friends who remind me quite often what I have to be grateful for. But mostly, on that walk home, it was the red sweatshirt.

My Attitude of Gratitude: Cultivated in 2010

I’m not the kind of woman who seeks mentors. I have found a rare few in my life, a professor who I worked for in college and graduate school, a colleague or two. But typically, I’m a fiercely independent person. That’s why, in reflecting on what I’m so grateful for this past year, I’m surprised to say that the first thing that pops into my head after health, is one Sissy Block. A wonderful friend, I am feeling particularly grateful to her because she made me a generous offer this year. She suggested we become “writing partners” - she is the person with whom I meet weekly or bi-monthly to sit beside as we write our respective creative projects. Both are books. Very different, very fictionalized, but both very personal. Having someone beside you while you pour your guts onto a page (or computer screen) is unbelievably validating. What sometimes felt self indulgent now feels powerful, significant, important, occasionally even urgent.

Our “writing dates,” as I call them, alternate neighborhoods for convenience and optimal wifi (though it’s not on the whole time we write! Focus is key). Most days we get over the loud study group or bad date nearby. In fact, if it’s a bad date I usually use it for material for the book I’m working on. Showing up for a writing date is like a planned coffee with a best friend. If you’ve ever had the type of friend who you could pick up with whether it had been one week or one year, that’s the feeling I get when I walk into a room to write with Sissy. She and I don’t need to catch up, the book and I do, and because Sissy’s there, I can pick up exactly where I left off.

When I’m sick, but we meet anyway, I find that I actually do my best writing. My most insecure thoughts, my most off-limit topics, suddenly become easier to deal with than my stomach ache … and I just write - no holds barred. Some really beautiful things come from those moments.

When we take a break from writing to catch up on our personal lives, after all, Sissy and I know each other from volunteering together and get along quite nicely on our own, Sissy reminds me to “write it” to “use it” because it’s here, it’s real. “It” has become better and better thanks to her encouragement. The gratitude we have for one another, for the forward momentum we create by being together in our creative efforts is palpable most days.

Sometimes we laugh out loud at our writing. We share exciting moments of character development. Her project is farther along than mine - and I know that she’ll come to me one day and say she doesn’t need to meet any more... but having her beside me as I’ve taken my first steps on this journey of writing my first novel makes me feel like I’ve taken strides where I would have taken baby steps, and for that I am forever grateful.

Sissy Block and I both have full time jobs working within Jewish academia. We are both active volunteers for Limmud NY. In fact, we met at Limmud NY. You never know where you will be when someone wonderful impacts your life. I’m just lucky we found one another!

My 30 before 30

Here’s the bottom line – I haven’t been blogging lately because I’ve been dedicated to writing a piece for publication. Ok, by piece I mean book, and between that, volunteering for four organizations (shoutouts to Limmud NY, Keren Or, Columbia Hillel Young Alumni Advisory Committee, and Kehilat Hadar), working full time, and maintaining some semblance of a social life I haven’t had time to toot my own over-achieving horn. Not because I haven’t had toot worthy experiences. I promise you, I’ve had them! I just haven’t had time to keep them on record.

So, I’m six months from thirty and inspired by my friend PrettyGreenGirl (Who now has a 30 while 30 list) to embrace the 30 before 30 … I’ve accomplished a lot lately, but I thought of some things I’ve never done, and here are mine:

1. Finish the first draft of my first book (Self imposed deadline: 30^th birthday)
2. Plan and take a trip to a continent I haven’t been to (Options: South America, Asia, or Africa) 1/26/11 Ok, many of my friends took me down memory lane and reminded me that Israel is in Asia, but I meant more proper, and I've been to Africa because, well, hello, Egypt is in Africa ... so I'm officially getting too old to remember where I was 11 years ago or I'm geographically challenged. Or, the fact I'm accomplishing this only by way of going to Israel in a few weeks means we'll have to compromise ... been to 'recently.' (which fits with #25)
   
3. See a natural wonder I haven’t yet seen
4. Photograph the perfect sunset
5. Find an extremely fulfilling opportunity to build community (see 4 organizations I volunteer for above … but I have a new one as of 11/10 too!)
6. Start writing down the etiquette lessons I preach to friends (Oh, and practice what I preach)
7. Make life more like the chocolate show
8. Find the perfect “at home” facial
9. Eat something that sparkles. 11/10/10 Work event included a dessert basket from Josh's place. Their mini rice crispy treats were not only delicious, but sparkled. That took no time at all!
   
10. Find the perfect pair of jeans
11. I have mad sewing skills – find time to use them on the bag of clothing that needs repair.
12. Ritualize dumpling night. 12/17/10 For the third "christmas" in a row, a meal where the dumplings are the star! I'll add more variations, but posted one recipe for spicy peanut chicken pot-stickers a while back. They are divine. This is a chanukah/december/christmas holiday tradition that will last forever.
    
13. Find a way to keep better track of the remote control
14. New Mantra: Farmers’ markets are great – other markets are supplements. No over-stuffing the fridge. Just because it looks good in the store doesn’t mean I have the time to cook it.
15. Try Bikram Yoga
16. ‘Discover’ a waterfall and spend the day picnicking and lounging beside it.
17. Have tea time at the Plaza (in general find an excuse to return to the oak room. What a good meal)
18. Walk the Brooklyn bridge (despite the cliché)
19. Have dinner at the four seasons –because my mother is still talking about her dinner there 35 years later.
20. Make a necklace with the beads collected from trips to DC’s store, Bedazzled.
21. Find NYC’s version of Teaism. Frequent it. Often.
22. Try five new foods!
23. Gamble more than $20 (preferably in AC or LV … go for it!)
24. Broadway : See Wicked on Broadway B. Decide to go to a show last minute (La Cage aux Folles, Life in the Theater)
25. Register for a class at Columbia University (ok, so it won’t be the first time, but it’ll be the first time in +5 years)
26. Check out “first Saturdays” at the Brooklyn Museum
    
27. Ice skate in Bryant park (I had hot chocolate there once, but had hurt my ankle and couldn't skate) 1/1/11 - My friend Andy has his own skates in the city and heads there at every chance he gets, so late at night after 'recovery brunch' and recovery nap we headed down there and he kept me distracted while we waited on the very long line... once I got on the ice I remembered how much I loved skating growing up... ahh, Parkwood... I just want to head out to my parent's place and pick up my skates and never get off the ice...
    
28. See a performance at Joe’s Pub
29. Stroll through the gardens at Wave Hill
30. Walk across the park for free Saturday at the Jewish Museum

Best Question of the Week: "How is your Heart?"

If a doctor had asked the question, I would be in a gown, spouting my symptoms from rise to sleep. But I'm 28. I go to the doctor for unexplained symptoms, stomach problems, and most recently, an ear infection. We haven't discussed my heart beyond Cheerios. That is, how to keep my cholesterol in check in order to keep me heart-healthy.

Instead, the question came from a Rabbi. Well, a mentor, confidant, and friend, who is a Rabbi, teacher and a spiritual guide. He asked, "How is your heart?" and the completely honest answer is "... still not quite ready." The answer I wanted to give, the place I want to be is someplace still far off. Though not as far as when he and I sat down just over a year ago for coffee. I'm closer to that answer I want to give - "My heart is open and available, it is ready, it is healed, it is waiting ..." So the answer I gave continued, and I'd like partial credit for it. "I'm working on it... I'm learning ... I'm still having difficulty opening it to the right person..." many disjointed thoughts. Much reason for pause.

Since the season for renewal hit (some people call it fall, I call it the high holidays), I can tell you that I have been hyper-aware of my heart. I know it is still so tightly wrapped, protected. I keep trying to open up, and I know I do it only slightly, and rarely. Usually to "safe" people. That's been going on nearly eight years this December. People who can't possibly stay in my life long, or people who have been here forever. I can't manage the in between.

If I imagine my heart - right now - it is as a diver. Certainly not Olympic grade - probably not even competitive. A leisurely diver, toes over the board wavering about whether to take the plunge. I think a year ago, when I met with this friend my heart and I were on a high board - hardly able to see the pool below. Now, I can smell it, see it - I'm resting on this regular diving board - but I don't know what the temperature will be and I know I'm scared to just dive in. I want it to be graceful, I want it to garner applause. This is when I hate the perfectionist in me. I can be an amateur in love. Isn't everyone at first? I have to remind myself, I'm the only one watching and I need to get past the fear to recognize the fun. It's really going to be worthwhile. And if I fail somehow, I can get back out and dive again.

But diving isn't a sport I know. I'm not confident here - and I am typically a fountain of confidence. I've gotten back on a horse who has thrown me into a fence. I am stubborn and strong just like the animal who spooked and reared and couldn't wait to be rid of me. If I can have faith that the horse will be there for me, why can I not have the same trust in man? The universe has a way of working things out. Trust it. Sit with it.

I'm ready to dive. I'm ready to ride. I'm ready to see what all this hype is about.

Now, if only my words could be as effective as action.

FUNdraisers & Events of Worth

One of the amazing things about living in New York City (or near any big city) is that there is never a dearth of things to do. That said, if you can be in Manhattan - Thursday, AUGUST 6, 2009 - SAVE THE DATE! (In fact go ahead and register now - ticket prices will go up)! I'm on the host committee and would love to see you at
THE TRIBECA SOCK HOP: TWIST & SHOUT FOR CHARITY!!!
8-Midnight
4 Hour Open Bar
Live performance by The Transformers-- 12 indie rock kids playing the sounds of Motown. This is a fundraiser, so the $40 ticket is going straight to children who need it through Chabad Children of Chernobyl. This great organization, which assists Chernobyl and the surrounding region in many ways, focuses on airlifting kids out of an area still devastated by this tragedy. It combines so many of my passions into the mission of one organization. Learn more about it on their website, watch the video on the ticket link or ask me. I could praise their fine work for hours on end. To buy tickets, in case you haven't caught the above links purchase them at http://ccoc.net/fundraising/s/29. And THANKS for your support - it will really be a fun night. Also, I know I'm corny. But the 50s were all about that kind of cheese - this event will definitely put the FUN in fundraiser.

Ok, now that I'm done with my hostess committee obligations (for this post at least) I will consider the matter at hand.

Our "to do lists" are a mile long. The errands, work obligations, health and wellness all take up time. Yet, when Monday hits I realize that my personal list has been replaced with a list of social obligations and opportunities. I have had something on my calendar every night of the week since the week before summer officially kicked off. This level of over commitment is brought to you by a woman who thinks that she has actually learned to say no! Yes, I can choose downtime, but what could be more fun than trying to be three places at once on a Thursday night in Manhattan? Perhaps this is where my California upbringing is particularly useful - to balance the drive to go and do with a laid back approach. (Note: Here's where I get paranoid I sound like a flake. I may get defensive about that in some other post, but here I'll just assure you that I handle my obligations and commitments with etiquette - or simply put, I'm not.)

Most of what drives me to saying yes is a personality thing. I am a people person, and if you are one of the people I care about, I will find the energy and make the time for you. Especially if you ask me to. Directly. In a phone call. Or an email. Or a voice mail. Or any other form of direct inquiry you can fathom.

I CAN SAY "NO" Or at least, I want to believe I can. I buy into the whole "put yourself first" thing. But when spending time with my friends makes me happier than working out, I'm going to choose my friends. Then I'll walk the 30 blocks home instead of getting on the bus. (Not overstating my case there, I've done that walk 4 times in the last 8 days.) So, what tips and tricks have you picked up recently that help you say no? How do you set limits and boundaries? Or is it even necessary? Whatever I think I know about the topic clearly hasn't quite penetrated yet. I know this mostly because ... YOU ASK, I ANSWER (YES!) Sometimes the "downtime" plan fails miserably. For example, I planned a Friday night of nothing to do. Intentionally. I was having over friends for lunch Saturday. I wanted to cook, clean and cram in as much sleep as possible. But when I ran into a friend who asked me to come out to lend an ear over a potluck picnic in the park, I didn't say no. How could I resist a request like that? So my night of planned serenity was replaced with rewarding, heartwarming connections. Including the opportunity to enjoy a beautiful pink sunset over Riverside park. Am I placing a value on community building and interconnectedness? By putting people first, perhaps I am. I don't always think this hard about the decisions I make, but when it feels this right, I should probably stop second guessing myself and just go with it.

I don't know if you find this type of behavior is more true for your single friends than those in a relationship, or if it's just a personality thing. I think it's more the latter, though the fact that I am single definitely influences my desire to go out and mingle. Also, I pay tooth and nail to live in this city, and I better enjoy it while I'm here. So baseball games, central park, concert tickets and picnics overlooking the Hudson. Toss in some spontaneity and you could find me at a pool party, open bar, dance-a-thon, or just looking across the table at a great friend enjoying this fine city as it's meant to be - while living life to the fullest.

Do I have a plan when I make my plans? I'd like most of what I do outside of the office to be filled with friends fun and meaning, but I don't have some advanced self-soothing system. I like to make sure I do something educational and cultural amidst all the fun, which is especially appealing if it's $5 or less or just plain free.

A few of my secrets to finding great (cheap, cheap, really cheap, even free) ways to fill a night: Pick up a local paper -NYC suggestions: AM New York, Metro, Village Voice
NYC Websites: calendars, city tourist sites are helpful, like NYCgo (street fairs galore!)
Multi-city deals: Going.com & Daily candy
If you want to do it, it's out there. There are all sorts of free event lists from jazz and swing dancing in Lincoln center to wine tastings to comedy, and whether you have one friend or many who are great to hang with, you might as well find ways to do it on the cheap. I also do look for fundraisers when I have some cash in the budget to spend on these events. Some tie in wine tasting or networking with their events, so that they're multipurpose and meaningful. Like the Sock Hop. In case you didn't already buy your ticket. What are your suggestions for inexpensive ways to keep the calendar full?

Chelsea Market is a favorite spot for the foodie in me, and you can walk out having enjoyed free samples of chocolate, cheese, wine, and baked goods without spending a dime. Also, with everything they've packed in there, I can usually knock off some of the errands on my "to do" list. Entertainment wise, you've hit the jackpot here. There's often live music performances and comedy or food network events. Despite the freebies, I always end up purchasing a thing or two. My true weakness is a restaurant called Green Table. It's sustainable, organic and delicious. Oh, and it serves some great mixed drinks. What more could a girl ask for? (Except for that cookie monster cupcake for dessert!?)

Do you care if I accomplish it all?

I must admit, I am deciding between sharing a slurry of pieces that span experiences, encounters and issues or focusing on just one topic. Should I come to this effort to share what inspires at that moment? Whatever my interests and passions, be they food, drink, city hot spots, music, travel, Judaism, writing, yoga, connecting people, societal critique, successes in the workplace, the pursuit of love, or whatever falls on - or off- my plate that day? Will it work for me to just write under an umbrella, expressing this great "accomplish it all" attitude or is my audience going to want to hear a more focused tidbit?

Well, I’ll sleep on this. Off to contemplate and I will invite your opinion in the morning.