Jason's FAQ

Over the past few months I’ve been getting the same questions over and over again. So I’m going to post the questions and answers here so All Y’ALL LEAVE ME ALONE… I mean… love you guyz.

Did you like living in New York City? How was it?

New York City was absolutely amazing. There are tons of posts/ articles about what it’s like to live there, the love/hate relationship residents have with the city, and how it’s like no other place. All true.

NYC is certainly a home to me. There were lots of highs and lows (High: Graduating from Columbia. Low: Bed bug infested apartment. High: Getting my dream internship. Low: Having $0.11 in my bank account and not eating for 24 hours. High: Meeting friends I hope to have for life. Low: Getting my heart broken a time or two).

There is a difference between *living* in New York and *existing* in New York. Much of my time there I felt I was existing. I didn’t have money or time to experience the city for all it’s “worth.”

I eventually came to realize there’s a difference between what the city is “worth” when you’re well-off financially and what it’s worth when you’re broke. (I’m reluctant to even look at it that way because there are so many people in New York who are truly, truly poor. Some of whom I reported over. But that’s a whole other post…).

When you’re a struggling 20-something in the city, experiencing the city for all it’s worth is taking the L train to Smorgesburg on a Saturday morning. It’s walking the High Line on a Sunday afternoon with a good friend and a coffee in hand. It’s going to a dive bar on the Lower East Side and waiting 20 minutes at 2 a.m. for the next train to take you uptown. It’s not always broadway shows and rooftop parties and galas. It’s rarely that. 

I was recently trying to describe the charm in the struggle - and people who hadn’t lived in NYC didn’t understand. How would being broke and constantly struggling be charming? Because I was working toward something. I was chasing my dream. I hadn’t let myself settle into a life that was comfortable, but not fully what I wanted. People tell me they admire and respect that I’m chasing my dreams and tell me they wish they could do the same. They can. Plain and simple. They can.

I look at my life as an investment and I view my entire experience in New York City as such. 

How was grad school?

Grad school was good but hard. I guess that’s how it’s supposed to be. I’m very glad it’s over! But the Columbia Journalism School was great.

Overall I had a wonderful experience. I feel truly blessed to have had the opportunity to attend. Never in a million years did I think I’d actually get in. It was the one school I applied to because I knew I’d get rejected, then I’d attend somewhere else.

People assume I’m really smart because I went to Columbia. That bothers me for some reason. I don’t consider myself book smart.

In high school I was in the resource room and some basic-level courses,  a year behind many of my classmates. But I’m a hard worker, and I’ve learned just how far that can get you in life. Never underestimate that. Hard work, luck, and a support system of people who care about you can get you anywhere. I didn’t make it through NYC or Columbia on my own - there were a whole lot of people behind me.

Why did you leave NYC?

I left New York City because I wanted to gain work experience in a smaller place. I figured if I was in a smaller newsroom I’d get to do more and gain experience faster. That and the fact that even though I’m really glad I had two and a half years of being that struggling 20-something, I was ready for it to be over!

Did you leave forever? It kinda seems like you gave up on the city…

LOL. No. I didn’t.

I give up on things like diets and gym memberships and “not dating for a while.” I think I could have stayed in New York with an entry-level job in journalism. I worked full-time while in school so I had work experience and then in May I had a degree to match. I didn’t looked for jobs in the city for after graduation outside of meetings from the career fair and my internship.

A few friends told me, “I don’t think you’re ever gonna live here again,” but I don’t think that’s true. At least I hope not. I love the city, and I miss it dearly, but I do plan to make it my home again someday. Maybe in a year, maybe in 10, maybe in 20. I’m not sure, but my career goals and aspirations bring me back there.

Oh, you’re working on a book?! How neat! What’s it about?

Why yes, I am! The working title as of now is "One and the Other.” It’s the two narratives about how my Christian faith brought me to reconcile with my alcoholic father, but hindered me from forgiving myself for being gay in a Christian community. 

It’s a long story (hence why it’s becoming a book hopefully). I have lots of thoughts about it and reasons for pursuing it. If you ever want to ask me about it, do so.

Hey, did you know your hair is thinning a little on the top of your head?

Yes.

Do you wanna go on a date?

ASKED NO ONE EVER.

In 2013 I…

2013 – the year I never blogged.

I was going to write a really reflective post about what a great year 2013 was, how much I learned, how far I’ve come and blah blah. It was going to be deep, meaningful, and moving. But then I decided to make a list of things I did in 2013. It’s not comprehensive, but it includes some of the more notable events.

In 2013 I:

-       Worked too hard and not enough

-       Didn’t leave the City for nine months straight

-       Wrote a book proposal

-       Had a maxed out credit card all year (but never got a second one)

-       Learned from mistakes… and later ignored those lessons

-       Broke a heart

-       Felt reaffirmed that storytelling is what I want to do

-       Tried to ask out my barista (found out he’s straight)

-       Missed things I probably shouldn’t and didn’t miss things I probably should

-       Continued dreaming

-       Ripped my pants the entire way down the back while dancing

-       Got an internship at my dream company

-       Realized I’m 24 going on 44

-       Went a little crazy (in both good and bad ways)

-       Continued to speak Jasonese (s’cute though)

-       Read more than I have in a year’s time

-       Liked myself a lot more

-       Called my father once

-       Wanted nothing more than to run away and stay put all at the same time

-       Tried to Instagram less selfies (key word being tried)

-       Smiled for those I was happy for and jealous of

-       Learned I’m a lot more independent than I ever knew

-       Got my heart broken

-       Found an issue which makes me righteously angry

-       Gave my number out on the subway… only to see him throw it away in the trashcan as the train left the station

-       Went through two iPhones. Learned I don’t always need music while using the sink

-       Final felt contentment

-       Realized I truly love New York City and how lucky I am to call it home

-       Humbled bragged

-       Realized I’m actually kind of a catch and told myself not to settle (this is an example of the above)

-       Wanted a baby, then decided a dog was easier, then a cat, then just settled on a pint of Ben & Jerry’s

-       Went to the gym once

-       Second guessed myself much less

-       Never had a steady savings account of more than $50

-       Realized haters gonna hate

-       Paid $18.75 to see the One Direction documentary

-       Got up at 4 a.m. during the winter to see One Direction in Central Park

-       Drove a UHaul in NYC

-       Danced among the lights and fog in the kitchen of a restaurant in Williamsburg while most of America was sleeping

-       Met Anderson Cooper, Brian Williams, Diane Sawyer, and Richard Engel

-       Cried at work when DOMA was overturned

-       Said “We should do this again” without meaning it

-       Stared all seven deadly sins in the eyes

-       Saw Jane Lynch in the Village and yelled, “Jane, love you girl!”

-       Had fewer regrets than any other year to date

Stop Thinking, Starting Moving (to the City)

I’ve had a few friends recently talk to me about a possible move to the City. I’ve been doing my best to be super biased and persuade them to come (with a little bit of logic in there, t00).

The response to actually moving seems to be: I really want to, but… 1. I’m scared 2. The outcome is so uncertain 3. I’m worried about money.

That’s right, up and moving is scary, uncertain, and you should be worried about money. But I believe our 20s is the time when we should be allowed to take some real chances and let our life bea risk.

When I moved here I paid ahead for two months of a sublet and had $900. I came on a one-way ticket. I had no job. I knew two people.

Living in the City has been really hard. I wouldn’t still be here if it wasn’t for the help (and by “help” I mean “loans of cold, hard cash”) of family and friends. All of which I have been able to pay back (expect for one month’s rent to my parents – k thx luv ya).

I’ve been lucky to stay in New York City as long as I have – 17 months now. I’ve had many, many, many ups and downs. I’ve wanted to pack up and leave. In moments of frustration I’ve regretted showing up at all. But, in the grand scheme of life, I’m so happy I came. I’ll save you the part about how magical the City is and how I’m super, duper inspired all the time. For one thing it’s only half true, and for another it’s super cheesy and annoying.

Life happens. Here are a few ways my life has happened since I moved here: I…

- Woke up with over 30 bed bug bites my third morning in the City

- Got laid off

- Literally had $0 in all three bank accounts

- Had a homeless man stick his finger in my ear and call me a “handsome mother f***er” in broad daylight

- Have canceled weekends worth of social plans because I didn’t have the $2.25 subway fare to take the train

- Went a 24-hour period without eating because I didn’t have money for food

- Broke a heart

- Got a “haircut” at a placed called “Sisters” in Harlem… and having to go home and buzz my head with a beard trimmer because it was a hack job (I refer to this as The Harlem Hair Catastrophe)

- Applied to over 300 jobs, got 11 interviews, and (finally) one offer – only to have the job turn out to kind of be a bust

When something crappy happens I always say, “It will add more drama to my E! True Hollywood Story.”

If you’re thinking about a move: Yes, be scared – that’s natural. Yes, worry about money, have some sort of plan, but don’t worry about every detail. But also, know that if you come, you’re in for an adventure. I love being a 20-something in the City. There’s a whole community of us, so you must know you won’t be alone. New York is still a City of great opportunity, even amongst the competition.

I suggest saving enough to be able to pay three months ahead on a sublet. That will give you enough time to get here, settle in a bit, and hopefully find some sort of job. Ideally, try to hit the one year mark in the City before you decide if it’s worth staying any longer. You’ll likely find out living here is a love/ hate relationship.

Don’t be afraid of failure. You may not make it in the City (I still don’t think I have). You may find out the City just isn’t for you. But you will never know until you try – that’s what ultimately got me here.

I miss home. I miss undergrad. I miss my family. I miss my friends. But right now, for this season of life, I want to be nowhere else but New York City.

Some things can be learned from tourists (said begrudgingly)

I’m always hating on tourists – saying things like they’re so annoying and they need to move out of my way, which they are, and they do, but let’s be real: tourists have feelings too (although I’d prefer to pretend they don’t because, well, they’re tourists).

Tourists are as annoying to me on the sidewalk as I am to my Instagram followers when I post a selfie. This doesn’t mean I can’t learn from them (just like my Instagram followers can relearn of my flawless jawline every time my selfies find a way onto their feed).

What can tourists teach us?

What not to do:

- Don’t stand. Don’t stand in the middle of the sidewalk. Don’t stand directly at the bottom of the stairs. Don’t stand on the left side of an escalator. Don’t stand right in front of a door. Don’t stand in the middle of the street when the light is green because you’re not paying attention. Really? These aren’t even New York things, they’re everywhere things.

- Don’t hold a map. If you’re going to be lost in the Big City, at least have the human decency to be looking at a map on your smart phone so we all just think you’re narcissistic like the rest of us. Paper maps are as outdated as The Land Before Time series. Can we seriously stop making those already? WE GET IT: There was once a land before time. Dinosaurs lived there. Then they died. Moving on.

- Don’t hail just any cab. Dear Out-of-towners, you look like fools when you have your hand up for any, and every, yellow cab that comes strolling past. I understand that it can be confusing with the different light combinations to tell which are free and which are not. For that I pass no judgement. I do judge; however, when you fuss and moan and shake your head saying, “I can’t catch a cab in this town,” when all the cabs that you’ve waved down aren’t available. Please, stay classy.

What to do:

- Stop and smell the roses. Totes OMG so mad at myself for being so cliche right now. But it’s true. I’ve lived in New York for over a year and I’ve never: been to the Met or the MOMA, gone to a Yankees game, taken a picture with the LOVE statue in Midtown, among countless other New Yorky things. But I still claim to be #sonewyork.

- Be kind. Tis true, tis true – New Yorkers have a reputation for being “rude” – it’s not that we’re rude, per say, we just… don’t have an interest in making a personal/ emotional connection or investment in you. Just because we don’t smile or speak to you in a full sentence does mean we’re complete a$$holes (wow, I’m not even convincing myself anymore). Okay, we can probably cheer up a bit and be happy – like tourists (except they’re on vacation and we’re not).

- Enjoy the City for all it’s worth. Often times when tourist blast through the City they really hit the town. They go to shows, take cabs, and go to fancy dinners. I watch Hulu, ride the M96, and go to Popeye’s Chicken and Biscuits.

There are many things New Yorkers do better than tourists (DUH – because we’re New Yorkers and we live in the center of the world and we are the center of the world and we’re better than everyone else ever), but there are a few things that tourists do better than New Yorkers.

Ask me in person and I’ll deny it.

Reasons Why the Big City is Actually Small

Once you’re here long enough New York becomes one big small town. Here’s how:

Seeing people you know from online dating around the City: I may or may not spend countless hours surfing the web for love – but at least I’m not looking for love in ALL the wrong places, just one. And it could turn out to be the right place. But as a professionally amateur online dater/ stalker type – I must say – it is weird when I see someone whose profile I have undoubtedly stalked online. It doesn’t happened too often. But is has happened. Example: two weeks ago at brunch I saw someone I 100% recognized. Later (online) I sent a message that started with, “This might be weird, but…” It was weird. No “might” about it.

Having friends in common with strangers: This has happened a few times. You’ll meet someone at a party, or at school, or through a friend, and you’ll have a friend or acquaintance in common. It’s so weird. Someone you know from home, or summer camp, or study abroad, or from a different “part of life” in the city. Just this week I was on my Instagram feed and a friend from school had posted a picture of someone I met up with at a bar. Who knew!?

Industries are small: Very small. That’s one reason why many of them are so hard to break into. Fashion. Publishing. Acting. Media. You name ‘em! That means if you do really well in an industry, good for you! But… if you totally bomb and suck and you’re the worst… well, word will spread. No pressure. Once you enter an industry you’ll soon realize that everyone has worked with everyone else at some previous job/ competetor.

Seeing the same subway performers: They are big here. New Yorkers usually have a sixth sense as to who is about to pop up and start a performance in the middle of the subway (or it’s really obvious when it’s something like a mariachi band). But when you live here, you start to see the same shows over, and over, and over again. The first time it might be cool. The second time you may think, “Hmm, what are the chances I’d see him again?” But the third time you’re wanting to give away the punch line to all the jokes. Like the 62-year-old man on the 1 train who starts off with one about Michael Jackson, a clock, and when the big hand touched the little hand…

Manhattan is small: No seriously, Manhattan is just under 34 square miles – it ain’t that big! Of course we build up and not out – and we make our selves look bigger than we are – like male birds trying to attract a mate. Fact is: Manhattan is an island (and a small one at that).

Seeing people in clothing from places you know/ love: I enjoy when I see people in the City who are wearing Purdue gear. Or sweatshirts from area high schools in Indiana that I know. Or places that I’ve traveled. Makes me feel connected to them.

Running into friends: It’s always bizzare and great to run into friends, not just in your neighborhood, but randomly when you’re out shopping or at a subway station 100 blocks from home! The. World. Is. So. Small (and Manhattan, as noted, is even smaller).

Seeing the same people in different parts of the city: This may be unique to me because I have a freakishly weird memory. Sometimes when I’m out I’ll see someone and I’ll take note of them. Maybe it’s because they’re beautiful, or have a cool piece of clothing, or a defining characteristic that makes them stand out. Then sometime later (could be the same day or months) I will see them somewhere else in the City. Example: I once saw a little deaf girl signing with her mom on the subway, then months later I saw them in Washington Square Park.

The City is getting smaller and smaller the longer I live here – but it’s not small enough that it can’t contain my ambitions.