Editorial Exhibitions

Last night, while perusing the Border's travel section for a solid 2.7 hours (no more, no less), I had a thought. After flipping through information on the left bank of Geneve, and thumbing my way from Beijing to Hong Kong in the latest edition of Fodor's, I decided that I would give up everything that I was doing in PR and start my career as a travel writer.

This impromptu decision then led me to pick up what felt like every book in the store that had something to do with living or traveling abroad in:

a). Geneva
b). Paris
c). China
d). Italy
e). All of the above
Secret option f). All of the above and then some.

Needless to say, I went with secret option F. I grabbed anything and everything that went near the topic of "expat" and frolicked to the cash register to pay for my purchases. For a nanosecond I wondered if I should really be spending money on numerous paperbacks when I already own about 20 that I still haven't read, and from a fiscal standpoint, I was at the point where buying groceries was about to become a pipe dream in the immediate future. However, this thought instantly vanished after the women at the register politely informed me that because I tutor kids (at Northeastern that is), I get 25% off my total purchases as it's "Educator Week". If this isn't a sign from God himself, I don't know what is.

With my new novels, travel journal, and fluffy feather pen in hand (as every good writer needs a good writing utensil), I knew that the outfit for my new career was far from completed. I needed something off-beat, a little extra "flair" some might say. I needed....coffee!

I pranced on over from the Time Warner Center to my loyal Starbucks on 58th and 8th, and ordered a venti chai; venti because all pretentious yet starving and underpaid writers seem to have one in hand at all times. I was tempted to go for the cinnamon dolce, however being 10:30 PM with work the next morning at nine, I opted for tea instead. Turns out the Starbucks card gifted from my Dad with "some money leftover," really equated to "$40 + dollars of free Starbucks for Cas," which is always a nice perk.

Vibrating home, dreaming about travels, I began to approach Carnegie Hall and Petrossian. Standing there, waiting for the red hand to turn into a white man (or for no cars to come screaming down 7th Ave), I had another thought. What the hell am I thinking becoming a travel writer? This is SO STUPID. I have to work while in Geneva, therefore will most likely have no time to write down my adventures in the detail that I would like, and morever, I need to graduate first.

Thus, I came off of my paper-buying, cloud nine high, and continued to walk back to my apartment and therefore back to reality.

The novels are actually rather interesting. As for the rest of it, well, I guess we'll just have to wait and find out.