Socially Speaking

I recently went to the SoMeBizLife conference at Delaware Valley College. My place of employment encouraged several of us to partake, not only because the social media side of business continues to grow, but our CFO presented. Yay, a chance to get out of my cubicle (which almost never happens, unless you count working out over lunches and the Yoga that’s brought in once a week…did I mention how lucky I am to work where I do?)

A large room full of all walks of business life gathered to hear key-note speakers talk about the social world. Some would find the sheer act of this gathering ironic; in the land of social, sharing, tweeting, tagging, Facebooking all takes place with your head down, typing frantically on your iPhone, blackberry or other smartphone. But this face-to-face interaction? We’ve become a culture of socially distracted, so much that it begs the question: Are we missing out on The Now?

Hey, I’m not one to judge or claim to not be guilty of the Facebook-FacePlant. My girlfriend, at a concert last night, asked me to, “take a picture of us and post it; you’re the Facebook Queen!” Proud or embarrassed? Not quite sure…I’m one of the most social people I know; love to entertain, travel, plan fun things...I'm constantly on the go, socially speaking. But as I looked down from the balcony at Johnny Brenda’s, I noticed that in-between sets of the three amazing bands (one being Cults, a killer band that just released a new album), 1 out of every 4 people, give or take, had their head down, thumbs frantic, screens ablaze. Pretty amusing and completely intriguing, getting me thinking about my own socialness. Am I social enough or impaired socially?

Back to the biz conference, the speakers were diverse in background and industry, which always fascinates me. I love being surrounded by intelligent people with a common interest, even if it doesn’t directly correlate with my background, the overlap intrigues. After a day of listening to the wide range of social-savvys, I took away pages of good information, useful sites and blogs that will delve even deeper into the social realm, and also, the idea that inspiration lies in social. The last speaker I attended actually hadn’t entered the official business world yet, but still remained at Temple, finishing his degree. The points and tips he gave during his presentation were poignant, well-thought out and well-spoken. His age alone motivated me; I vowed then and there I would become more involved, more active in my own success. He had already accomplished so much, been invited to national conferences by major players, and contributed to several well-read blogs and forums; he hadn’t even graduated! It was truly inspiring and lit a fire under my aspirations.

Having already achieved a certain level of social success, I’ve been contemplating the other realms of my life. The weight and balance of each sector as it relates to my over-all happiness, contentment, sense of accomplishment, sense-of self. Is what I’m doing enough to make a dent in the world? Not an easy question to ask myself. So I’ve had a lot to think about over the past week while gallivanting in New York, dinning at Black Fish, bending and stretching at Yoga and entertaining over the grill.

I realize I am biased and perhaps living in my own social bubble, but socially speaking, I’m all-in for what’s next.

Tick-Tock

Time has been on my mind lately. The passing of it, the way it stops for no one, for nothing. The way it can drag when you want it to fly, the way it flies when you wish it would stand still. How bizarre it can seem when you sit back and reflect on it. What can happen in such a short amount of it and how nothing can happen when extended periods stretch before you, seeming endless in one moment, fleeting in another. Patience, that virtue few posses, often helps with time, yet I am not one of those few. I hate to admit, but I may be one of those people who are very cognizant of the time, aware of how little there seems to be of it, how it’s literally disappearing as I sit and write this. That scares and exhilarates me equally, especially since as of late, time has been both a gift and a curse…

Just two short months ago, my life seemed superficially wrapped up. Not so much tied with a hand-crafted, Nordstrom bow, but tied up, figured out on the surface (although I’m not sure anyone ever figures everything out; how boring when that happens!). Even typing that, in those words, puts any doubt I had (none) about how things have come untied, to rest. That has been how I've felt. Untied. Released. From the time restraints that went along with what had been proposed to me (literally) as well as from what I had settled into. Time had lent complacency to me and when the events of March 12th unfolded, I returned it. The ride in the stolen car had started and when it ended, I had escaped.



Time was now mine.




Broad Street, a race that time seemed to fly for, took much of my time post March 12th. Training for that, the hours and distance runs I set aside for, propelled me forward both literally and figuratively. Having a goal after that which you thought would, no longer will, may be the best piece of advice I can give someone. When something doesn't work, take time to rearview mirror it, but don't stop and put the brakes on. Time marches on with or without you.


So with the race here, then gone, I not only exceeded a personal expectation by running it, I finished in 1:33:54. There's nothing like awakening from a deep sleep and hitting the ground running.


And the time kept filling up.



The act of reclaiming myself took no time at all. Suddenly, I had things to look forward to that I had orchestrated for myself and could take the minutes and hours of days not planned to do with what I wanted. There in lies the quandary I often find myself in. With time rushing by, having no pause or hesitation, shouldn't you use every single second, filling it with, well, everything? For that rare breed of high-energy folk, myself included, this can present a challenge for the NBC's (non-energizer bunny on crack) of the world. Keeping up may not even be the issue. The sheer act of listening to the projected plans of someone like me, just being the recipient of an email that spouts off upcoming events or dates to be filled, these things can overwhelm. Time flies when you're having fun and the post March 12th dates have done just that, leaving me thinking about how I doubt I'll take the time to slow down now.


Looking back on time, seeing what has happened since, puts a very wide smile on my face and leaves me to think of that which stretches ahead:

Time...Oh the things I will do with it.

Practicing the Present

In like a lion, out like a lamb. March, the month where hopes of spring bud within. The curses uttered about winter get louder, more vocal, and people start itching to get out. I know quite a few people who hibernate during these chilly months and rightfully so. I'm not judging this behavior or lack there of. There are plenty of winter-inside activities that are quite productive. Although, if you're like me, I've spent much of winter out and about, as in one of my earlier posts, Hibernation is not an option & I will not be beaten by that bitch (excuse my French).


It's been a whirlwind of a year thus far, and last month blew by (literally, I was sick for over a week!). My Yoga teacher, Dorothy O., reminds us that in our practice, we should focus on the here and now. Practice being present. Well, this has been quite a feat, let me just tell you. I come from a long-line of planners (hell, my grandmother kept a daily diary, for over twenty years, of her families happenings, of which there were nine members!) They do say practice makes perfect though, and with each Yoga session, I feel I have a better understanding of the present and how to root myself in it. And then I start thinking about the week ahead...

When flipping through my planner to glance at all of February's doings, it looks as though I was deeply rooted into the present and hurtling towards the future, with bright markers on the dates to prove it. It's almost as if I've tried to propel myself forward as fast as I could, to soak up as much as I could. I made a comment one afternoon, on one of me and my buddy's carpool discussions, "I feel like I'm running out of time..." He answered, quite bluntly, "You are."

Countdowns seem to be a theme, as I recently threw one of my best girlfriends a surprise engagement party. Having never before planned a surprise party, I was quite giddy with excitement! Only 5 months away from her big W day, I thought it would be quite fitting to gather with friends before nuptials are exchanged. With help from my girl Natalie, we pulled off the surprise party, with no one spilling the beans. The seconds flew by, the happy couple was thrilled and their day draws closer still...



In between and after the surprise, training days have been at the forefront of my mind as Broad Street draws close. Having several people reach out to lend useful tips, training schedules and running do's & don'ts, making the actual date seem quite real. 10 miles are coming along slowly, but surely, and I'm getting quite excited for May 1st, which is just around the corner...

And then, the Circus came to town, in every way the circus can come to town. Clowns, zebras, flashing lights, too much junk, loud noise, diversion tactics, acts of bravery, OOOOOs and AAAHHHS, gasps from the crowd, outrageous stunts, incredible balancing acts...oh, the Circus came to town all right, and I was glad to see them go! As much as I like a big show, I don't live under the big top and don't plan to, although I contemplated it that night. How easy would it be to run away and join? Together with the other freaks, moving from one town to the next, entertaining for a few hours before you move on? Kids seem to be in awe of this huge display and Brad's nephew, was no different. Time stood still that night, while we were all locked in, watching the greatest show on Earth...

And then, the last weekend in February, where time seemed to rewind and freeze for a night. Several girls, with years of memories stored between them, gathered together, in a little town called Brooklyn, to celebrate one of their own, finding her own. Past, present and future puddled together to create a timelessness felt only with those who knew you when. We may have been in a new neighborhood, but days of old were right beside us. I hadn't forgotten how much I had in my past, but it was nice to remember it for a night, with people who helped me live.

That's how I've lived the past few weeks. As if I was running out of time and it wasn't going to outrun me. Juggling the present, planning for the future and revisiting the past, all in a few weeks time. Practicing the present will be an ongoing exercise, but I'm training for Broad Street, damnit. Time's got nothing on me.

Hibernation is Not an Option: The Stir-Crazy Guide to Winter

Winter. It's cold, bitter, windy. And it's only January. So far, this winter has been rather wicked and most days, I'll walk into work wearing my fabulous Penguin hat, smile and explain that it's really warm to the fashionably impaired co-workers and sit down at my cube, huddling over my keyboard as if it were an oil drum filled with fire (ok, the hat can give off that Cousin Eddie vibe if worn with the wrong outfit).

Despite the slap in your face winter doles out each time I step out my door, I don't mind these wintry months, as long as the sun continues to shine. Hibernation through these weather conditions is indeed an option; one I respect, but can not fully get behind, no matter how hard it colds. That being said, there are activities done in warm weather that are just ludicrous in every way shape and form when placed in cold weather. Such as walking your puppy (for the fourth time) on a work night, when your dinner has just been scooped and the steam rising off it smells of heaven. I curse Winter then. I admit, I've become victim to the laziness that Winter curses you with and have let my dog out on my snow covered deck, trying to convince myself that allowing it isn't the most disgusting thing I've ever done. Well my friends, when you find yourself shoveling your deck in shame so the neighbors don't judge you, then you know that Winter has won.

So, yes, Winter can be a beast that beats you out of leaving your house, but only if you let it. Being cut out of the stir-crazy cloth, I look at this season as a challenge, one I will come out of victoriously. I have had to tag-team the challenge though, with someone who shares the same mindset: Hibernation is not an option!

Brad and I really started tackling Winter last weekend, when Saturday night brought us into Manayunk. Known for it's god-awful parking and cobblestone streets, we knew what we were getting ourselves into and laughed in the face of Winter. Wearing my highest of heels, bringing a jacket (I've left behind the days of running to the bar without a coat), we marched into Bourbon Blue without hesitation. Go big or Go home.

Sunday continued the Winter fun, and we moseyed into Philadelphia, with skating on the brain.

Being my first time at the Blue Cross Riverrink, the thought of ice skating on the river on this beautifully sunny day all but made me giggle out loud. With Music pumping through the outside speakers, my rented skates did me proud. Bundled in my winter garb, it was a Zamboni of an afternoon.

Having skated our tuchcuses off, we needed warmth and a Winter Night Cap, so headed to Eulogy, a Belgium Bar I had walked past a dozen times, yet never ventured into. Stories of their beer selection resonated as I opened the massive volume that was their beer menu. Oh, rejoice, for Winter hath brought me to this haven.

During the week, I am, however, guilty of being Winter Whipped. Monday night, I surrendered to the treadmill, running two miles while Winter winds howled with laughter. Tuesday reared it's ugly seasonality with ice and freezing rain. Yes, I remained inside that day, Winter, you bastard. Working from home, I cut my losses, not even leaving for the gym. Doing floor exercises with a small puppy proved to be quite a challenge. How I do love a challenge.

Wednesday found me indoors as well, but I had actually planned it that way. My family room doubles as a Yoga studio on Wednesday evenings, and my girl Jess and I stretch and bend with Sting's wife and her Indian friend, who in our opinion, should wear some looser pants. Post Om, my dad came for Turkey Sloppy Joes (wad up Manwich!). Cooking during the days where going out either isn't an option or is a choice, will forever be a go-to. New recipes (or throw-backs) offer much needed relief from the hum-drum of Winter nights.

Thursday came in the nick of time and Restaurant Week beckoned. Despite the frigid temps, I headed to the train, walked the 9 blocks to 3rd and Market and parked my cold rump on Fork's bar stool to warm up with some wine while I waited for Brad. A warm room filled with hipster waiters, beautifully dressed patrons, I noted that I'd need to head back to dine one day. The smell alone could coerce you from your Winter warmth. After enjoying some sips, we marched the hundred feet to Bistro 7 . Frog green walls, similar to my kitchen, warm lighting, delicious aromas. The Restaurant Week menu offered a small selection that varied from their menu, and all seemed delicious. My winter greens & granny smith apple salad, cut-with-a-fork tender pork and sweet potato and chocolate malted pot de creme exceeded my expectations. The Calluna wine we brought didn't hurt the splendor either!

Arrive Friday, a night of Baggataway's wings and allagash white, followed by Chinese food and On Demand...this wasn't a Winter surrender, this was a perfect night. Saturday promised a full plate of Winter fun and my appetite was huge. After running 4 miles at the gym (longest distance I've yet to run, thank you very much), we ran some errands (bought my first pair of running shoes I've ever bough with the sole purpose of running) then headed out for an afternoon of Winery Hopping.

Black Walnut Winery paired signature wines with delectable, locally grown goat cheese. The Chardonnay 2007 and Herb de Provence Chevre....oh yes. My Favorite? Pinot Noir 2008 and the Crottin aged cheese. Cheese and wine...could you do anything better on a Winter day!? Post goat, we headed to Kog Hill, a winery that looks like the boxed wine of wineries from the outside. If there was ever a time to not judge a book by its cover or a winery by it's box-filled store-front! Inside, we were handed glasses and told that for the $5 dollar tasting fee, we were able to taste all wines made on premises and keep the glass! My frugality leaped for joy! Now, for someone with a decent palate, again, the tasting room lacked in luster, so the deal needed to put it's grapes where it's wine was. I soon bit my tongue, as almost all wines sampled were tasty! About 20 wine samplings later (we closed the tasting room down!), I left with 6 bottles of Kog and a smile on my Wintry Chapped face.

Take that Winter!

Pencil Me In

People are always asking me what’s on my agenda, how does my schedule look, what’s coming up. Now, I say people as though I think everyone cares what my days and nights consist of, and that is not the case. I know most people do not; I’m not that egotistical (although, I am kind of a big deal). A very, very small fish in an ocean, I do not pretend to be more important than I actually am, although do lead an unusually stuffed life. Here’s how I think of it; most people are curious by nature, wanting to explore and question that which they do not understand. Well, being on the move gives me a certain something, not sure what, but whatever it is, not everyone has it. This could be a good or bad thing, depending on who you ask. My neighbor, Joe, born and raised in Roxborough (the neighborhood I live in), shakes his head each time he sees me.

“They still chargin you rent here, Cate? Where ya been? Where ya off to now? We never hear ya”
First of all, he always acts as though I’m doing something wrong by vacating the neighborhood without proper clearance. And I’ve never heard of not being able to hear your neighbor being a bad thing. I live above a couple who just had a baby, and let’s just say, I’ve not heard so much as a coo from this thing, and I sure ain’t complaining. But, Joe’s a good guy and his line of questioning is always met with my shit eating grin. I play the blonde, I don’t know, I’ve been busy card and try to explain as little as possible (enough just to get his eyebrows to stop jamming into the top of his head) and put the key into my door (which apparently is dusty from lack of entry).
This neighbor, king of my street, mayor of Freeland Ave, knows everyone by name, job title, vehicle and family tree. Living in one place all your life affords you the luxury of really getting to know your neighbors, and there isn’t a damn thing wrong with it. People with these backgrounds though, in my experience, just don’t understand the on-the-go lifestyle. Why would you ever want to leave the lovely burrough of Rox? Well, there are a million reasons in my book…life awaits and no better time life the present (or in my case, the next six months…yeah, I’m a planner).
So, why and how the hell did I get this way? Well, number one, genetics. Those who’ve met my momma know she’s hardly ever home. High school parties thrown in her absence may ring a bell. (Yeah, I almost got sent out of the country by queen B for some of those, but damn they were good times.) Plus, she’s pretty much the energizer bunny on crack, so GO is the only mode she knows. Being reared by a woman of her speed set the tone for my future pace. Although I wasn’t always this plan oriented, I do take after her fast track as of late. She once told me, in response to someone asking if she was scared to fly, “I’d rather die doing something, than doing nothing.” Says it all.
Another reason, or reasons I should say, I’m always out and about, has nothing to do with me and I cannot be held responsible for; my friends. These crazy kids are, 1. All over the country, and road trips are what we do; 2. Are hilarious, just ask anyone. Ok, maybe not anyone, but we think we’re pretty funny; 3. Into kicking the cat and doing what they do. Wherever we go, we have a blast and usually end up killing it.
So, nobody gonna take my pride, nobody gonna hold me down, on no, I gotta keep on movin. You want me, you better get me to look in my planner (which is always with me, I’m insane with plans, I wasn’t kidding) and make me pencil you in. Next few weeks are fillin up fast. Next up, may be movin on up…(Hunting dwellings tonight in Conshy with Queen B, gotta get out of paying the city wage tax man!), Thursday’s affair-Irish visits Philly (Gnocchi babies are delicious), Friday, I'm the chef, so taste this (Wash it down with Main Street), Saturday’s tasty Delaware affair (private wine pairing with the energizer bunny and friends). Until next week, get out there.