Yesterday, I saw an advertisement on the subway that made my heart drop: “Happiness is ordering food on your phone without saying a word.”

First of all, since when was the idea of a phone..and not talking… a thing? Oh, since texting was invented in 2005, thanks to Matti Makkonen. But what started as a seemingly harmless way to communicate dominoed into a smart-phone stampede (what are we up to, iphone 7?) that invites us to do anything but talk on the phone. And best yet, according to this ad, not having to verbally correspond with someone is… “happiness.” Not having to drive to the grocery store. Not having to interact with the burrito guy. Not even having to, oh goodness, get out your laptop to order online.

Let me interrupt to say that I’m not anti-technology. While I often believe I belong in a cabin in the middle of the woods with only a wood burning stove, a pen and paper, and lots of bourbon (there’d be no wifi, what else is there to do?), I realize that’s just me. And I appreciate technology. It changed the world. It’s changing the world. Much good has come of it.

But how convenient is too convenient?

Do we really need kindles? (Are they saving babies?)

Will our world fall a part if we have to look up movie times in gasp–a printed newspaper?

Has anyone ever thought about stepping outside to check the weather? (I know I know, there’s an app for that)

And do we really need to order our chinese food on an iphone in order to be happy?

When did the convenience of technology turn into the unnecessary? I’ve lived a pretty good life so far without knowing the exact time the subway is coming; I can deposit a check at the bank, not through my phone (creepy?); and I can look at a map before I leave home to figure out where I’m headed (I did drive around the country like this, and made it back alive).

Most importantly, I can find a myriad of ways to exude my own happiness, without it deriving from “ordering my food on my phone without saying a word.” I’ll strike up a conversation with the burrito guy, and it’ll make my day. 

Because I can’t think of seven.

1. I ran a 5K–the first one I’ve run since 2006! I had absolutely no idea what to expect, but went into it with a completely different mindset and set of legs since my hardxcorex days of Northport High School Cross Country.  It was actually relatively fun, although I definitely did not miss the feeling of utter exhaustion….. and the reminder that I have asthma. No matter–the idea of rum-glazed banana stuffed french toast got me through the last mile, which was well deserved (with a side of hard-apple cider) post race.

2. I also managed to pop in n out of Northport for a hot five-hours to celebrate my dad’s 40th (or so) birthday. Upon coming home, I saw my parent’s new kitchen! It was oddly beautiful, since our old kitchen was the only kitchen I knew of from age zero to 23. Still, it was time for an upgrade, and it looks AWESOME and makes our house 10 x’s more bad ass.

3. At work, we gave each other nicknames (including a food item) that match our personalities and what we bring to Greatist.  Apparently everyone at work thinks I’m a hippy (I swear I shower and don’t actually love the environment) ….so I was deemed Zen/Almond. Namaste?

4. Dog watching has become a new hobby of mine. It’s about a billion times better than bird watching. I sit myself on a bench and watch people walk their dogs, and I rate them 1-10. Also, upon judging their owners for approximately four seconds, I see whether or not me asking to pet their dog (if a 7 or higher)  would be deemed weird/totally okay/annoying/a subtle act of flirtation. (This dog is a 10 out of 10)

5. After that lovely 5K I mentioned earlier (see #1), I made it back to Brooklyn in one piece to go to the Lodge with some pals. Its decor is what you would expect for a place called The Lodge, which is why I like it. Even better- we ordered a ton of food, six bloody mary’s, and coffee, and our check magically came out to $17. Pays to be girls?

6. I tried Hot Yoga for the first time. Long story short, I sweat more than I thought was humanly possible, I cried, I cursed, and I will probably never go again.

seven things have happened. and it’s sunday.

1) I had an interesting Tuesday. I’m doing a month challenge at greatist (read about here and here!) so I found a free IntenSati class through Shape up NYC. I ventured over to a recreation center in Williamsburg, where a less than friendly lady at the desk took my ID and told me I had to lock my stuff up. (Oddly enough, I had a lock in my bag. I dunno). I walk upstairs to literally…an empty classroom. Book shelves, and no people. Bueller?  Teacher finally arrives, and is super nice. People start wandering in… late. ESL students. Really skinny Russian girl. Really fat white dude. A nice Asian. Class is about to begin, until another dude-man walks in with a plaque. A large, important NYC award goes to teacher. She cries. Tells life story. We workout, I sweat. Everyone gets free yoga mats. Class dismissed.

2)Work is a great excuse to bake Vegan Peanut Butter Cookie Dough Balls.

3) Tequila is an even better excuse to eat most of them as a late-night snack.

(no picture..you can’t photograph things that no longer exist)

4) Here is Ali. The picture isn’t blurry, she just looks like that

5) I experienced the best, oh, forty seconds of my life. I was at yoga, and while about 93% of all yoga teachers at Hosh happen to be ladiez, we had a male teacher. He was covered in tattoos, had on weird skater shorts, and was oddly, extremely, attractive. He made jokes. Yoga jokes! And when I was in my less-than-perfect Warrior Two, he came around to me to “lengthen my spine” for awhile. Best Warrior Two ever.

6) You can canoe in Central Park. So I did.  And I learned: I am a poor canoer.

7) Hipsters in Brooklyn up-it-up with having Balloons at parties. I wonder what they were celebrating.

I was standing elbow deep on a crowded subway, my ipod had died, my book was at home, and I had eight stops to go. I didn’t feel like people watching. I didn’t feel like listening to the banjo player. So I reached for my moleskin.

I love when I flip through my little hipster notebook and find forgotten, random crap I’ve written.  While some of it’s really weird (I went through a haiku phase), other stuff is actually share-worthy.  Only  now do I remember scribbling down some thoughts while sitting at a beach bar in West Palm Beach this summer. I had snuck into this little resort so I could enjoy free cocktails and appetizers. I was slightly tipsy and mostly sunburned. My hair was salty. Here’s what went down:

“As I sit here at the bar that I innocently snuck into for the complimentary snacks and cocktails, I am surrounded by overweight women with obviously faux breasts sticking out of their rainbow-colored bikini tops with sunscreen slathered on their cheeks.

You don’t get this in the woods.

The ocean frightens me. I look out and see both the whole world and complete emptiness. When they say  the more you travel, the less you know, this is how I feel when I stare at the ocean, looking out into an entity that covers 3/4’s of the world’s surface. I am full of sand, my nose is inevitably resembling that of Rudolph’s, and I’m conflicted as to whether or not I am enjoying myself.

When I’m at the lake, I feel significant. I am enveloped in its boundedness; I can walk around it, swim through it, and not be taken under by thunderous waves or flesh-seeking sharks. But what about the city? The city also bounds you like the banks of a lake, but its mass can swallow you as well.

I don’t want to be trapped in between concrete.”

Aright, aright… I’m sorry!  It’s been a while since I’ve posted, and believe me–I’ve been aware.  And while the whole “life has been sooo crazy” excuse can easily apply here, I’m going to forgo it.

The thing is, I’ve been writing a whole lot.  I started an amazing “dream” job at www.greatist.com, where I’m constantly writing and  brainstorming in my little head.  I also still write for joonbug, so when I’m not thinking about protein shakes, the folate content in beets, or exercising to boost energy, I’m going to “cancer balls” and young patron group openings to interview people way more professional than me and, in turn, exploit them on the interwebs (kidding).

The point?  I am slowly realizing that my “writing voice” is getting stuck in my head.  I go to bed thinking lyrically or wittily; my stream of consciousness is becoming way too put together, and I feel myself actually turning into a…”writer.” It’s crazy (and really awesome). And yet, when the end of the day comes and I can choose to post here or let me crazy, writing mind take a breather, I choose the latter.

With that in mind, some things of note:

-That “cancer ball” I mentioned is actually a really inappropriate way of saying I covered an event for the Cancer Society Community, properly titled “The Red Ball.” I got quotes, mingled, and may or may not have stalked all the hors d’oeuvre servers (crab cakes won out, second place to the sesame chicken).  We even got to drink Grand Marnier out of “Red Balls,” which seemed rather fitting.

-I have also been able to stalk strangers in Williamsburg.  I’m writing a piece on the dangers of eating too much protein for greatist, so I figured I could get a photo of a friend munching on a burger to compliment the article.  Turns out that 99% of my friends don’t really eat red meat, and the other 1% have realized it’s October (!!eee), and have already retired their barbeques.  The point? I went out to strangers at burger joints, awkwardly asked hostesses if I could stalk their customers, and asked people if I could get pretty morbid pictures of them consuming cow.  Exhibit A:

 So…yes. HAPPY OCTOBER- May this month be filled with pumpkin, sausage, apples, and beer.