Quarter life crisis @lschuster - Tumblr Blog

Different Coasts Different Bros

I recently moved from NYC to San Diego. I prepared my wardrobe accordingly, but I didn't prepare myself for the SoCal dating scene. I thought it would be fun to compare the different dating styles of places I've lived: East Coast (Manhattan), West Coast (San Diego) and the Northwest (Montana).

Note: If you don’t like stereotypes, you won’t like this post.

SCHEDULING A DATE

NYC

This happens a week in advance. He might send a Google calendar invite so you can both put in on your busy calendars.

San Diego

The plan for Friday night will come to fruition during a lunch break that same day.

Montana

Your date may or may not have a smartphone, so your activity will be planned via an actual phone call.

AMBIENCE

NYC

Crowded restaurant, with two other couples sitting 12 inches on either side of you. Get ready to talk about your relationship history with complete strangers eavesdropping. Drink order: expensive whiskey, neat

San Diego

Outdoor patio. When you finally decide to leave, you’ll have to ask for the check because no one is in any sort of hurry. Drink order: craft beer, IPA (because that's the only kind they brew)

Montana

Also outside. But not like a cute restaurant patio kind of outside. You’ll probably be talking about your interests and hobbies while you’re huffing and puffing up a mountain. Drink order: cheap whiskey, on-the-rocks

CONVERSATION

NYC

Work. And how much they have to work. Probably banking. Then you’ll move on to outrageous rent and cocktail prices. Lingo: mergers and acquisitions, assets, appreciation (different kind), capital, buy-in

San Diego

The beach and the awesome weather. Lingo: chill, sick, bro (usually pronounced, brah), rad, the break, anything that ends with 'board' (surfboard, longboard, skateboard)

Montana

Anything involving outdoor activities. Hunting, fishing, camping, hiking, skiing, mountain biking, etc. and how absurd it is that anyone would want to live in a “big city”. Lingo: peak bagging, scree skiing, back-country, single-track, cramp-ons

LIKELIHOOD YOU'LL HAVE TO PAY

NYC

0% - Amex Black all the way -- did I mention they’re in Finance?

San Diego

50%

If you offer to pay for half, they’ll let you. Because they’re laid-back like that.

Montana

N/A

Your first date will not be at a restaurant. Did I mention they’re into the outdoors?

STYLE

NYC

Dress pants, buttoned up collared shirt, leather shoes

San Diego

You will always be over-dressed for this date because they’re going to show up in a t-shirt, board shorts and Rainbow flip-flops.

Montana

Jeans, flannel shirt, work boots or athletic shoes, and a beard.

ATTRACTIVENESS

NYC

HOT - in the I dress well and care about my haircut kind of way

San Diego

HOT - in the I workout everyday, here is my 8-pack and tanned calves kind of way

Montana

HOT - in the I can scale a mountain, chop a load of wood, change the oil in your car, and grow a beard -- all in the same day -- kind of way

FAVORITE MUSIC

NYC

Some band you’ve never heard of that’s playing at some venue in the East Village that you’ve never heard of.

San Diego

The Red Hot Chili Peppers or Bob Marley

Montana

Country

EDUCATION

NYC

Ivy League

San Diego

USD. Or was it SDSU? Or maybe it was UC - Davis / Berkeley / Santa Barbara.

Don’t even get me started on the 15 USC schools.

If I’m lucky, it’s UCLA, because that’s the only one I can remember -- Go Bruins… right?

Montana

Varies -- but it’s either some midwest college you’ve never heard of, or it’s one of the two universities in Montana, UM or MSU. See California?

LONG DISTANCE DEAL BREAKERS

NYC

It depends on where you live, but from my apartment in Chelsea anyone on the Upper East Side needed serious potential.

San Diego

Orange County

And that’s pushing it. I’ll be honest, anything north of Escondido seems like a lot of work.

Montana

N/A

You don’t have a very big pool to choose from, so you’ll make any type of distance work. As long as he can change a flat tire, start a fire, and shoot whatever meat you want in the freezer.

END OF THE NIGHT

NYC

If you’re taking the same train home, you’ll get a quick wave goodbye as they fight to get through the subway doors

San Diego

They would walk you to your door, but parking is a nightmare so you’ll either attempt the extremely difficult hug over the middle console, or just say goodbye and leave. I recommend the latter.

Montana

They’ll walk you to wherever your car is parked at the trailhead, and then you’ll get an equal parts smelly and sweaty hug.

#dating #montana #nyc #sandiego

10 Things I Learned from Online Dating

1) Everyone needs a good headshot.

I wish I could go back in time and hold the camera for whoever took the first selfie.

A profile full of selfies can convey one of two messages: a) I don’t have any friends, or b) I don’t know how to use a tripod. Both are deal breakers. You know that friend that got a DSLR camera for Christmas last year and never uses it? Ask them to take a picture of you. If it doesn’t get you a date, at least it will get some likes on Facebook.

2) Proper grammar isn’t dead.

Screw chivalry, I want a guy that capitalizes his “I’s”.

Friends don’t let other friends post a profile without a proofread. If I am being judged on 500 words, I am going to make sure each one is spelled correctly and used properly in a sentence.

3) “Hanging out with friends” is not a hobby.

Well shoot, I am looking for a guy that hates spending time with his friends.

My name is Leah and I like hanging out with my friends. Great. So does everyone else. That doesn’t make me memorable or give any insight to who I am as a person. People bond over the smallest things. Your favorite movie is The Science of Sleep. Mine too! You eat your pizza crust first. Me too! Now we have something to talk about. Things not to mention in your profile: prescription medications, your therapist, how bad your last breakup was, how weird online dating is.

4) One coffee is worth 1,000 messages.

Your punch lines were funnier when they were delivered through gmail.

I can email and text until my fingers ache, but it’s not going to tell me as much about a person as 30 minutes of face-to-face conversation. I can edit my texts and emails 100 times before I hit send. I don’t have the same luxury with words flying out of my mouth.

5) Even people who don’t like to talk enjoy talking about themselves.

This Awkward Silence is making my carbonara taste bad.

Everyone I’ve gone out with has been good at holding conversation. But there are always those dates where conversation feels like work. In those moments, I have a handful of go-to questions to keep the conversation flowing. “If you had a free Saturday to do anything you wanted, where money was no object, what would you do?” “If you could road trip cross-country with one person, who would it be and why?”

6) If you don’t have any interesting stories to tell, go do something interesting.

Walter Mitty soundtrack starts playing in the background...

If I don’t think I’m interesting, my date isn’t going to think so either. My goal is to do one thing each week that is worth calling home about like trying a new running trail, recipe, or restaurant. If I don’t have any fun experiences that are worth talking about, then I need to take a vacation, get offline, and make some. Match.com will be waiting for me when I get back.

7) Just say ‘Yes’.

But he doesn’t look like Bradley Cooper or play the guitar.

People surprise me all the time, so I am trying to create more space for them to do so by not judging strictly on appearances. I’m looking at you lifted pick-up truck guys. Go on one date. You can DVR The Bachelorette and watch it when you get home. I recently went out with a shaved-headed guy from Jersey (polar opposite of my ‘type’). When the evening was over, he had completely shattered all the stereotypes I had put on him. That doesn’t mean there will be a second date, it just means that I don’t know someone unless I actually get to know them.

8) Keep your eyes open.

There is this one guy I pass by every morning on my way to work.

Before you go through all the work of setting up a profile and paying for a subscription, take advantage of what’s already been set in front of you! The girl at the gym? The guy standing in line at Starbucks? Strike up a conversation, it’s way easier than answering 25 emails.

9) There is no formula.

Number of First Dates + Amount of Interest / World Population = Probability of Success

I used to think the that number of dates I went on increased the probability of meeting my husband, but it doesn’t work like that. It only takes one person, and that person might not be online dating. Just because I’m on 3 different dating sites doesn’t necessarily increase my odds. It just means my inbox is going to be full.

10) Be cool and let things happen.

What if I wear my favorite yellow dress and he doesn’t like yellow.

I over analyze everything. And it will probably be the ruin of me. I can’t control people or their feelings, so I need to stop trying. Over analyzing every exchange is simply exhausting and stirs up insecurities. I am not going to miss out, so I need to chill out and enjoy this whole dating thing.

#dating

Don't fill up on bread

Today I took a walk into Vence, with my laptop and a bottle of Perrier. Not a cute and feminine, I-just-want-a-sip-of-water bottle. This was an I-could-last-a-week-on-the-streets type of jug. I arrive in Vence just in time for the French to be finished serving lunch. (2:00pm, really?!) No food, they tell me, but I can order a drink. If the French want me to drink Rose on an empty stomach, then drink I will. At least I am hydrated from the Perrier.

The birth of this France trip started months ago when my cousin Allison came to visit NYC[i]. While we met for lunch at S’nice in SoHo, she invited me to come and stay with her family in Nice ‘sometime’. Like any good cousin would do, I extended the offer to my roommates. After a little discussion and a lot of daydreaming, my 3 roommates and me bought our tickets to France. I won’t bore you with the details of our trip[ii] but I will share a mantra we established during a day-trip we took to Ventimiglia, Italy.

What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you think of Italy? (After futbol. After Armani.) Right, pasta. Obviously. We walk into our local-old-man recommended Italian restaurant and order our dishes: spaghetti pesto, artichoke ravioli, spaghetti Bolognese, and spaghetti carbonara. We had an amazing meal 10 minutes away and our server did the worst thing possible… he set down a big basket of bread right in front of us. We did what any self-controlled American women would; we asked for olive oil and ate the entire thing. Just as the bread was beginning to expand in our stomachs, the server placed 4 beautiful pasta dishes before us, showed us how to twirl the pasta with the big spoon, and bode us ‘Bon Appetite.’ Per usual, I dove into my delicious meal fairly full because I didn't pass on the damn bread. This doesn’t have too many consequences other than an uncomfortable ride home, but how often do I do this with more important matters? How often do I settle for something less than delicious because I don’t have the faith or patience to wait for what is coming next?

As with everything, the pendulum swings both directions. On the flip side, you refuse to taste anything because of unrealistic expectations that are never going to be met by any dish, relationship, job, or paycheck. You pass up amazing opportunities because you’re waiting for something better. You’ll be left hungry at a table asking, ‘When is my out-of-this-world dish going to arrive?’ It’s not. So, try the pasta, it’s delicious.

I struggle with both. For the next 2 months I have the opportunity to evaluate: What areas of my life do I tend to settle? What paralyzing expectations have I set? I have no idea what I am going to do, come June. But for now, I am going to wait and enjoy whatever the Server has in store for me next. It’s still mid-day in France, so that means another glass of Rose.

[i] We’re not blood related, but I still call her my cousin and we kind of look alike. It’s confusing. Allison and her adorable family are extremely generous, letting me stay with them (and feeding me) for 2 months.

[ii]Castles, Monaco, baguettes, cheese, stone shops, telling our GPS to avoid toll roads, billions of photos, and sea-side views unlike anything I have ever seen. #fourfriendsinfrance

What Tigray Taught Me // 2

New Yorkers aren’t generally known for generosity. Myself included. In a week, my gracious acts might look something like this:

Giving up my seat on the subway.

Giving up my cab to the woman next to me; clearly regretting her shoe decision.

Letting a bachelorette party order 7 vodka waters with a splash of lime before me at the bar.

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During our time in Tigray, we received more acts of kindness in one week than I usually perform in an entire month. One afternoon, we took a trip into town to see different examples of local entrepreneurs. While visiting a beekeeper, who, of course, greeted us with bread and the richest honey I've ever tasted, he gifted the President of charity: water with a bucket of honey. Seriously, a bucket. For the average Tigrayan day farmer, that comes out to about 10-day’s wages*.

My favorite experience of the trip happened that same afternoon. We were walking back to our entourage of Jeeps when we heard music and drumming in the distance. One of our group leaders spoke a sentence that contained the words ‘wedding’ and ‘dancing’. I don't know what else he said because the excitement coursing through my veins at the mention of those words was effecting my ability to hear. Anyone who knows me can vouch that hearing those words are like hearing ‘chocolate cake that helps you lose weight’, 'scruffy' or ‘single track.’ My bucket list reads: travel around the world and crash a wedding reception in every country. I can check Ethiopia off my list, only 195 more to go. We showed up as strangers to this wedding and we were immediately welcomed with sewa and injera (beer and bread) and invited into their dance circle. And in case you’re wondering, my shoulder moves still received as many laughs as they did the first night. I don't know if the guests were friends or family of the bride and groom, but for the brief minutes we were dancing and laughing in the circle, they felt like family to me. And maybe that's the point. That wherever we are, in a city of millions or a town of thousands, our small acts of generosity will start to turn strangers into family, and start to make places like NYC feel like home.

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I started to take a closer look at the people I interact with everyday. As it turns out, I am surrounded by incredibly generous people. My co-workers took care of me while I was puking for 10-hours from Dubai to NYC. I work for an incredible organization that spends money sending their employees on a once-in-a-lifetime trip to the field to inspire, encourage, and collaborate, rather than taking huge holiday bonuses and extravagant vacations, both of which everyone on charity: water’s executive team deserves. My roommates graciously give up our already over-crowded apartment to anyone who needs a place to stay. They also forgive me when I eat all of their Ben and Jerry’s ice cream without asking, twice. I don’t know how long I will stay in NYC. Whether it’s one week, one year or ten years, I hope my generosity during that time looks more like this:

Giving up my seat on the subway -- even though I am going to JFK and we’re only at 23rd street, in Manhattan.

Giving up my cab to the woman next to me; clearly regretting her shoe decision -- even though it’s pouring rain and I'm also regretting my shoe decision.

Letting a bachelorette party order 7 vodka waters with a splash of lime before me -- even though I am only one drink in and the DJ is playing Beyonce's XO.

Read more about my experience

@wecharitywater // Photos by Dan Gold

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*He gave us 5kg. His honey sold for 140 birr/kg (~$8/kg). A day laborer can make 70 birr/day ($4/day). Source: Noah McColl.

#charitywater #nyc #ethiopia #mekele #generosity

What Tigray Taught Me // 1

I don’t know how it happens. Little by little we change and morph into different people. If we actively participate in the process, we can evolve into a better version of ourselves. If we wait on the sideline and let the process take its course, we risk waking up worse.

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I moved to New York City nearly two years ago. With a couple suitcases in hand and Empire State of Mind on repeat (duh), I was ready for an adventure. NYC is an amazing place, with more culture and diversity in a single city block than all the states that start with an “M”, combined. It turns once-in-a-lifetime into once-a-day-if-you-can-afford-it. Tiny dogs strut down the sidewalk in nicer attire than most of the population. All this extravagance started to change the way I interacted with the world around me. My sarcasm turned into cynicism. I rarely looked people in the eye in passing. And with a smile? Forget about it. I traded authentic happiness for a cheap, quick version fueled by Instagram “likes” and Twitter followers. I started to believe intimacy was a virtual wink, 5 multiple choice questions and an awkward first date. I was cold, inside and out. A fresh start couldn’t come quick enough.

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My mood started to lift as soon as we touched down in Addis. The warm sun started to revive my pale skin. Colors of clothes, buildings and foliage flooded my vision. To my delight, mountains interrupted the horizon instead of skyscrapers. The terrain reminded me of Moab, and all I could think about was how much I wanted to come back with my mountain bike. We stayed in Addis just long enough to drink a beer and take a nap before we jumped on a plane to Mek’ele, Tigray. Our night was filled with traditional Ethiopian food and dancing. Tigrayans laughed at my ridiculous attempts to mimic their shoulder moves, and I laughed at myself too. We danced around in circles, and taught each other different moves. Don’t be surprised if The Twist makes an appearance in some Ethiopian dances. Even though I was in a foreign place, I felt more like myself than I had in a long time.

Our days were spent visiting communities with water projects in rural Tigray, which meant hours of off-roading in Land Rovers, taking pictures out of car windows, and sharing stories with co-workers. Each community celebrated our arrival by throwing popcorn, roasting coffee, and pouring beer. I am drawn to their authenticity. No fluff. No facades. I expected to be overwhelmed with a sense of pity or grief when we saw their living conditions, but what I felt instead was joy. Honestly, I envied the simplicity. Kids would follow me around, grab my hand, and laugh at me whenever I mispronounced their name, which happened every time. Verbal communication wasn’t necessary. Eye contact, a smile, and a wave connected us.

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Now being back in NYC for over 48 hours, I already feel myself slipping back to my old self. I miss Mek’ele. It felt more like home than Manhattan.

@wecharitywater // Photo by Dan Gold

#charitywater #ethiopia #home #mekele #nyc