I had two conversations with two different men today that bothered me. The first had to do with “responsibility” to the people we care about and to the world. My friend’s boyfriend was saying that he owes the world nothing, that everyone can “go fuck themselves,” and he doesn’t need or want to contribute anything to this world. That’s why he chose a job that gives him no accountability, no mobility, and no real responsibility. He thinks it’s all a load of crap. He also hinted he thinks I’m naive because I think I am making a difference in the world by doing youth mentoring and volunteering. Well, I never said I was curing cancer or saving the world. I’m only one person, and if I can help just one other person, why not? It’s not fully selfless, as when we help others, we tend to feel good about ourselves, so there is a small selfish component to that. The concept of not wanting to possess any responsibility or duty to the world really angers me. It’s that type of selfishness that makes the world a bad place to live in, when we know we cannot rely on anyone for anything. Part of being an adult means having responsibility, and to try to escape responsibility is to evade adulthood. No one wants a real life Peter Pan in their lives.

The second annoying conversation was with a guy I thought was supposed to be my friend, but he’s really just using me as an outlet to complain about his failing dating escapades. When he had his last girlfriend, every single time I used to see him, he would complain about her for at least 70 percent of the time. Now that he’s broken up with her and she’s moved out, he’s tried to over compensate on his dating and sex life by seeing over 17 different women in the last four months and sleeping with all of them. And he thinks I want to hear about the details of his life. And after sleeping with these people, he realizes that they’re all neurotic in some way and he doesn’t want to be with any of them in a real relationship. “I feel so comfortable telling you these things,” he said. “That’s why I complain to you.”

I’m never responding to another message from this guy again.

Today at work was one meeting after another, so needless to say, it was a tiring day, especially since some of these meetings weren’t really that necessary or informative. During one of these meetings, someone who heads up another team who I’ve never officially met was already seated for the meeting, and I sat down next to him and said hi. He literally looked me up and down, probably decided I wasn’t “high up enough” at the company to really acknowledge, and then went back to looking at his laptop. That “hi” was never returned. Yep, you got that right. I just got dissed and ignored.

I thought that the whole point of working at a start up was that title or positions shouldn’t matter and that the structure was supposed to be flat because everyone was valued and everyone is a contributor?

Tonight, Chris and I were invited by a good friend of mine to the annual Upwardly Global gala. My friend actively volunteers and was previously a board member of this organization, which is a nonprofit that helps work-authorized immigrants find jobs here in the U.S. My friend has been actively volunteering with Upwardly Global since 2008, so it’s a cause he’s very passionate about. Unfortunately, the goals of the organization do not jive very well with Chris, who is an immigrant in this country and thinks that the organization glosses over the hardest part about being an immigrant in this country — actually getting into this country and achieving legal work authorization, either via a work visa or the much coveted green card. I agree that the organization does gloss that over, but it’s not what its goal is. I can’t even imagine a nonprofit that actually helped with that process and the types of legal fees and overhead they would need to spend. It’s a separate struggle to get work in this country even with work authorization, and that’s what Upwardly Global strives to do.

What I am not a fan of in terms of nonprofits and donating to them is the perceived “black hole” that donations go into. If I am donating to an organization, I want to know that my dollars are actually going to something tangible that I can see having an effect. The saddest part about a lot of nonprofits is that so many of the donation dollars end up going towards hazy “administrative costs,” and not toward the actual work that the organization is striving to do. I asked my friend where the tickets costs ($500 each) were going, and he said he wasn’t sure and that it would be decided by the board. That’s not really a good sign. I was grateful to be invited and to attend, but I’m just not sure about this black hole. It also didn’t put a good taste in my mouth that all the servers at Guastavino’s barely spoke English and also couldn’t tell me what they were serving. They had no idea what type of fish they were giving me, and when they told me that dessert was pineapple upside down cake, it was actually a horrendous peach cobber with peaches that tasted canned. These are the people we should really be helping through this organization, right? Well, I guess we can’t because these people probably don’t have green cards.

At least I know that one nonprofit I fund raise for, AFSP, keeps its administrative costs below 25 percent.

I was reading this article yesterday on advice that a number of successful people would give the 22-year-old versions of themselves. Arianna Huffington was interviewed for this, and she said that the concept of “time famine,” or not having enough time to accomplish all the things we want in life, can have a very dire impact on our happiness and stress levels. I’m reading what she has said, and I thought, wow, that really applies to me.

I’m always thinking about ways to be more efficient and to accomplish things in a smaller amount of time, whether that means multitasking or finding shortcuts for things. It’s part of the reason I started listening to audio books. I figured that while I am walking or taking the subway from point A to point B, I could get some learning done, whether it’s from a book or a podcast I can listen to along the way. Sometimes when I am catching up with a non-local friend, I will put her on speaker phone and work on my scrapbook as we chat, or prepare my lunch for the next day. And even at work with something as simple as preparing tea, I will steep my tea first while I cut my morning fruit so that once I’m done cutting, I can then add the milk to the tea and toss the tea bag. It’s gotten a little bit ridiculous, but I don’t even think about that process anymore. I just do it.

I’m not sure if being more efficient and accomplishing more is always a good thing, though. My mindset is so programmed in that way that sometimes, when I look back at everything I’ve completed in a day, I am mind boggled at myself for all those things, but then I want to one-up myself and accomplish even more. And then I tire myself out.

Today in the elevator going up to my office, I’m standing with two women, both of whom do not live in the city and made that very clear. They’re both grumbling about how warm it’s becoming (New Yorkers never seem to be happy with the weather). This is the conversation I overhear:

Woman 1: It’s getting really hot outside (makes a face). Did you take the subway here?

Woman 2: Eww, no! I walked. The train is disgusting!

Woman 1: I know. It’s so gross. I walked here from Grand Central, too.

Why do people work and live in the New York City area if they are going to complain about how “gross” and “disgusting” the subway is? The New York City subway is one of the most extensive subway systems in the world, and we’re really privileged to have it and not be forced to drive everywhere in massive congestion and road rage. Some people seem to love reveling in their ignorance and ivory towers. Stop complaining, everyone. Just take it for what it is, or leave.

These are the times when I get really frustrated at New York City, when it is spring time, and Chris and I are getting ready for his parents’ arrival at our apartment, and we amass dust balls the size of our heads under our bed and couch and dresser. This city is like a rodent, roach, and dust ball magnet. There really aren’t enough to go around in this great big metropolis, are there?

We are spending the last night before Chris goes to Chicago for work to make sure everything is clean and tidy for his parents’ arrival on Wednesday. As we are going through bags of clutter and things to toss out, I’m lamenting all the things I have hidden in my old big suitcase I used to move from Boston to New York: a rolling pin, oversized cookie sheets, a real oven rack, pie pans, and lots and lots of picture frames, all of which Ed gave me, that we have zero space for in our tiny Manhattan apartment. It’s either I am getting old, or I am just tiring of New York in general. We have no space where I can comfortably put all my supplies or access them easily. My scrapbooking material is in several boxes being hidden under the bed while Chris’s parents stay with us. I even have Christmas ornaments I have collected over the years all in a bin under the bed, getting no love because we have no Christmas tree of our own to put themon. I feel cooped up and wonder how much longer we will need to keep living like this. I think I just got a wrinkle thinking about it.

An old friend who I stopped speaking with last year suddenly e-mailed me an apology today. She said I was a true friend, and she said she was sorry that she got so upset with me after a senseless comment I made to her last year, which she took extreme offense to and overreacted about. As soon as I realized she was being hypersensitive and neurotic, I stopped talking to her and told her why. At that point in my life, I couldn’t handle having any more people in my life who I had to walk around egg shells to be around, or who were just extremely negative.

In a past version of myself, I might have obsessed over this e-mail and wondered why she sent it, what prompted her to write me, why she was even thinking about me after so much time had passed. But in the current version of me, I really felt little to nothing. I’ve stopped caring about things as much as I used to, especially things that are just insignificant or dramatic without reason. However, there is one point she made in her message that I read twice: “One of your greatest assets is that you are not superficial.” She said I was one of the most real people she’s ever met. We live in a world where we’re always wondering who’s actually authentic and who’s fake. My cynical (yet realistic) side thinks that most people are either fake or just not the type of people I want to be around, perhaps because their values in life so greatly clash with mine. But it’s comforting to know that someone who I am pretty much at odds with now admits that I’m authentic, and superficiality isn’t something I value at all.

Tonight, I had dinner with a college friend and her colleague, who are both in town for a work project for the next few days. I hadn’t seen her since last April, when I was in Phoenix with Chris and my parents to see the Grand Canyon. Then, she was supposedly happily married and planning to have a child. Today, she is divorced, single, and happier than ever.

It’s crazy how time flies. It really doesn’t feel like a year ago since I last saw her, and it’s hard to believe that in the time that has passed, she decided to not have a child, leave her husband, and get a new job. So many changes can happen in such a short time frame, and it’s hard to keep up with the why’s and how’s of the decisions that everyone in your life makes. I know in a nutshell what led to the dissolution of her marriage, but I’ll probably never get the opportunity to hear all the details. I guess that’s not a bad thing because maybe I don’t really want to know or shouldn’t really know. But then that makes me wonder: how do you really determine what you should know or should not know, and how do you draw the line, and with what people? You don’t want to seem like you are intruding or trying to invade someone’s privacy. As though it helps me at all personally to know the most intimate details, and I’m not going to be broadcasting it everywhere anytime soon. Why we are friends with people isn’t always as simple as people think it is.

Like many other New Yorkers who like to eat out, I am a huge fan of Danny Meyer. I have no idea what he looks like or what his personality is like, but I love the restaurants he has either started or been a part of. Gramercy Tavern, Union Square Cafe, and Eleven Madison Park are restaurants that I have had some of the best dining experiences in my life, so I was really excited to finally get a reservation at Maialino, his other well known and loved restaurant in the city. Everything we ordered tonight exceeded expectations along with a couple of surprises. When Chris ordered us a pork belly appetizer, It ended up coming to the table in the form of a pate mixed with duck and duck fat and was paired with these delicious little pickled cucumbers and apricot jam. The cocktails were artfully crafted and smooth, and surprisingly they were not as expensive as we thought they would be. We had some quick small talk with our waiter, and he laughed when he heard that the reason we came was because of Danny Meyer. It’s only in cities like New York where patrons would actually know or care about “celebrity chefs.”

I have a friend who is visiting New York this weekend who I will meet with tomorrow, and since she’s only been to New York a handful of times, she looks at New York as the city “that has everything” in terms of food and cuisine. And she’s right. As New Yorkers, we take for granted the variety and quality we have in this city. Sometimes, I can feel myself getting complacent when I’m deciding what to eat next when it comes to restaurants. Shame on me (to be fair, it’s mainly because we need to pick a restaurant near the theater district, which is notorious for catering towards tourists). It will be sad one day to finally leave it, but as long as we are here, I want to relish it as much as possible.

For the longest time for breakfast in the last two years during the weekdays, I was primarily eating fruit. Most of the time, it was grapefruit or an orange, and other times a banana. I realized I couldn’t eat a grapefruit every morning for breakfast after I started getting tooth sensitivity in the back of my mouth. It’s sad when you think you are doing good things for yourself, and then you realize that these “good things” are actually causing other parts of you (your teeth!) harm by using their evil little acids to eat away at your tooth enamel.

I started deliberately incorporating protein into my breakfast recently after being told by a trainer that I’m not getting enough, so occasionally, I will have yogurt or oatmeal on work day breakfasts now. And this week, I discovered the joy that is Chobani 2 percent Greek yogurt with passion fruit on the bottom. I’ve never, ever seen real passion fruit in yogurt before, so this was (sadly) a huge highlight of my work day. And it didn’t taste artificial at all; it tasted pure and sweet and slightly sour the way it should. It even had the passion fruit seeds in it. I proceeded to hide the one remaining passion fruit yogurt cup in the fridge and then ask our office manager to buy more for future weeks.

Sometimes, it’s the little things during the work day that make things all better.