Practicing Being a Person with Ted
plus moving to a new city by way of posting
Welcome to another installation of nmjc’s hanging out series…as Sultans of Seshing, randa and harry talk to hanger-outters across the world about hot-button issues relating to chilling. If you’d like to be featured…hit us up!
p.s. we’re soft launching an ig page….
HK: Randa…wsup. I cant lie, I’m feeling great. I just successfully got my wisdom teeth out, i’m meeting all kinds of new people. I finally asked our Thiel Foundation handler about spending some of our stipend on rent (they said yes!!). Life is good.
Our guest today, whom I will introduce shortly, has recently moved to NYC…which got me thinking about when times were Not So Great for me…when I first moved to Boston (booooo!!!) after graduating.
I found that moving to a new city where you don’t know too many people is one of the hardest social exercises you can possibly take on. Frankly, at the time, I couldn’t do it. I was miserable and moved to NYC in under a year, and I haven’t left.
Here in NY I’m constantly meeting new cool people because of the domino effect of having a community here, but I had a huge leg up. When I moved to NYC I already knew a bunch of people, so they really helped me get started. My question for you is…where did I go wrong in Boston? You’ve shown an incredible ability to land in a city and start immediately tapping in. What's your secret?
RS: I have too many thoughts on this to fit in an edition of Hanging Out and Chilling but I’m going to start with one tip: posting.
Many, maybe even most of my new friendships have originated online in some form. Our friendship came about because I was working on Hot Singles, you were working on Ok Stupid, and our friend noticed and made the connection. If we hadn’t made that stuff and posted it to the internet, we probably wouldn’t have met and NMJC wouldn’t exist.
My friend Lisa recently tweeted “You have to post to stay alive” and I initially resisted, but after spending like 30 seconds thinking about it, agreed with her.
It’s not about posting anything – you need to somehow show the inside of your brain and exhibit your taste or sense of humor. I have tweeted tons of stupid jokes and ideas that I believe represent my personality well. I don’t try too hard to appeal to the masses. This has paid dividends in my social life.
For example, earlier this year I tweeted a photo of myself surfing and another tweet asking if I had any Twitter friends in SF. This resulted in a new friend adding me to a surf group chat. Nobody in this surf group chat actually surfs with each other. On the surface, this might feel like a failure. But having surfing in common is a good enough jumping off point for other things – the group has brought me new friends, potluck invites, and places to live. None of this IRL magic would have happened if I hadn’t put myself out there online.
Don’t get too comfortable though. This guy I have been chatting with recently told me that he looked at my Goodreads, noticed all the self-help and dating titles, and thought to himself, “this girl really likes to work on herself” which I felt was a euphemism for something much worse.
Anyway, if I were you in Boston again, I’d probably try to make something like Hot Singles, post online a lot, and see what kinds of people I could attract into my orbit. Social media doesn’t have to be an addictive hellscape; it can also be a very useful tool.
HK: i rly remember ripping TINDER a lot in Boston….not the same kind of posting….anyway…we’ve got another banger today. We’ve got fellow state asset “Ted” with us today. Ted is a writer and ad man living in Brooklyn. He’s tall and cool and knows the right amount about online stuff (some of y’all could take notes…). He, speaking of Goodreads… he gives heater book recs.
NMJC: Ted, please share 3-6 photos that represent your weekend
NMJC: How did you hang out this weekend?
T: On Friday, I met up with some friends for an impromptu hang at Bacaro in Dimes Square. I can’t report on the food as I had just enjoyed a chicken bowl from Chipotle. I love Chipotle. I can eat it and still hang.
Every hang in Dimes Square feels like a Dimes Square hang. When I hang with friends in Crown Heights, that is just a hang. My friend mentioned the poker nights he has been having on Sundays, a future hang. I don’t really know how to play poker. I prefer taking from my friends in more covert ways, like eating their apartment’s nut assortments when they are in the bathroom.
One person at the hang, who I had never met before, gives me his business card. It reads “It was a pleasure meeting you at Bacaro. One Love. Rex Detiger.”. He had made it earlier that day. Rex says he is gluten-free. I wish Rex well on this journey.
I part ways with that group, finding my way to a backyard in Crown Heights. On the way, I stop to get a Recess. Sobriety has given me my life back and an insatiable thirst for $5 beverages that do nothing despite claiming otherwise.
In the backyard, I am immediately intimidated by the size of the hang. When I get like this, I counter my instinct to recoil with the thought that this is just practice. I am practicing being a person at a big hang. I see a lot of things this way. I am constantly practicing. I am no Allen Iverson.
After talking to someone who owns a canned fish company about an erotic novel I once read called Keyhole Kitten, a book about a woman who gets off by looking through cabin’s keyholes to see their inhabitants undress, I find my way to the snack table. I eat two large cheeseballs and chase them down with some pretzels. The cheeseballs make me want to go home so I go home.
The next day, I find myself hanging in a car. It’s my car, in fact. The car is a 2011 Honda Fit Sports Edition. I am not selling, but feel free to contact me with any admiration for the vehicle.
Someone hits me. Their paint stretches across my rear bumper. They say it didn’t happen. I almost believe them. I return to my hang on wheels.
The hang reaches its apex at Brooklyn Crab, a Las Vegas-style mega restaurant. We are greeted outside by a fiberglass shark and collared patrons playing cornhole. The place feels like you are in a Ralph Lauren catalogue that was shot on an ocean-themed miniature golf course.
Our table gets hit with some rain. For a split second, I think “Is this the end of the hang?” Readers will be delighted to know we got to change tables. We talked about how my friend’s grandpa is in poor health as people in bibs sucked on crab legs.
RS: Can you expand on the idea that “everything is practice?” What are some other scenarios that you treat like practice? Has this tactic ever gone wrong?
T: In New York you are constantly around people. It can feel like an experiment that outlived its trial. I was used to scheduling social interactions 2 days in advance.
When I got here, I immediately got agoraphobic. I mentioned it to an Eastern European doctor while getting my wrist checked. Don’t worry, it’s just a sprain. She suggested I look into Behaviour Cognitive Therapy (CBT) as well as her hypnosis practice she started a couple weeks prior. Hypnosis would have been a better story but also a $200 a session story.
I watched all of these CBT videos online. It’s basically just exposure therapy. Ease into what you don’t want to do to get better at it. Seeing as there is no finish line, it’s always just practice. Or you are like socially graceful and don’t have to worry about it.
HK: I happen to know that you just moved back to New York– how’s dropping into a new city in your late 20s? Easier than it was in your early 20s?
T: Moving only gets more difficult. They say it’s up there with divorce and death of a loved one in terms of stressful live events. I buy it.
I have an incredibly different life compared to when I first moved here so it is a bit difficult to compare. I guess one thing that stands out is I am much better at gtfoing out of NYC and going Upstate or something this time around. I didn’t really have the wherewithal to do that when I lived here before.
I love it here. I also love leaving here.
HK: I once tried hypnosis because i was 22 and struggling with g*tting h*rd and after I told the therapist my situation she asked me if I was “drinking enough water”.
RS: I recently had an uber driver named Pharoah who is a hypnotist. I have his phone number if anyone wants to be put in touch. He’s going to Egypt to do his final hypnosis exam.
NMJC: Randa and Harry are some hanging experts…do you have any hanging out related questions for us?
T: If you could hang with Martin Shkreli for a day, what would you do?
HK: One of the craziest and most humbling things that can happen to a person is they find themselves in a sports game where they just totally suck ass compared to everyone else playing. I once went to a soccer camp in high school and was the worst player there and I felt so fucked up. It feels like you are drowning.
I think this is a kind of feeling that Shkreli could benefit from. I’ve seen him get razzed on a sort of post-woke comedy podcast and have his cheeks rose up. That’s still a home game for him. I need him matched up with a lanky small forward who started in the WCAL. I want him gesticulating wildly, tying his shoes at the wrong time, having someone scream “you need to roll” after he sets one of those disgusting unathletic picks that some people set when they don’t Know Ball.
He seems sort of impenetrably evil, but if there is anything that could crack him open, it would be that.
RS: I would actually drown him. I would drown him under the guise of playing a sport where he’s below the requisite skill level. I would take him surfing on a double overhead day and gaslight him into thinking it’s a “good day for beginners.”
NMJC: In a word or two (or more)…
Song of the weekend?
SR20DET - Blksmiith (kinda evil music)
Craziest feeling?
3rd diet coke
Confession?
I am Banksy
Most romantic moment?
falling in love with waitress
Who was the Most Valuable Stranger of the weekend?
the guy that helped me pull out of my spot