Skyscrapers turn into monsters in the right light

A weekend of debauchery illuminated the need for me to find something more in this town. I got lost on the train. So lost, in fact, that it became a parody that most people would probably write a screenplay about. Mostly to mock those who have no idea where they are going. I spent almost four hours underground, trying to figure out where the hell to go. It was pathetic. We wandered through the snaking world of the underground, transferring from train to train, with the ultimate goal to end up at Central Park. We wanted to drink beers in the park and wander around. We finally made it. It was the most painful excursion I've yet to encounter.

I've never felt so frustrated in my life. When Melinda and I finally hit our stop we ran, exulted, towards the sunlight, happy to be out of the myriad of underground subway traffic. We'd actually proclaimed ourselves the mole people because we'd been underground so long. It was absolutely pathetic. We actually managed to ride half of the trains in Brooklyn and Manhattan because we're retarded fools who paid little attention to where we were going in favor of interesting chatter whereupon we decided to come up with our own language.

It was a glorious and horrible experience all at the same time.

Two straight days of drinking lead me to the realization that while NY is a city of fun it is also a city that can yield very little without the right contacts. I have no job prospects. I spend everyday online responding to ads, praying one of them will guide me to the reason I moved to this hellish and depraved land.

Even Dan is settling here better than me. I feel so jealous of everyone that has found their roots here. I feel like I can't find mine. I feel so lost. I scour Craigslist everyday with no idea what I'm qualified for or what I want to do.

There has to be some hope...