Visiting Family in Long Island, Visiting Friends and Bro-ing Out in NYC and Going to See About a Girl


Ahh, there’s no place like home… especially when your home is New York and you haven’t had a decent bagel or slice of pizza in five months. Sorry Mexico and California, but you’ve got absolutely no game on this!

Fresh warm bagels from Stuff A Bagel in Farmingdale, Long Island, NY

Rose’s Pizza in Penn Station, New York City

Yeah, they’re that good. I highly recommend going absolutely nuts on these if and when you visit New York.

Here’s a little known fact regarding pizza and bagels unbeknownst to most non-New Yorkers. There is an ongoing argument as to whether they are better in NYC or Long Island, so I’ll just settle the score right here and now. There is no winner, it completely depends on the place and your taste, though some are exponentially better than others. I can’t even begin to get into where my favorite pizza place is because that’s gotta be similar to asking Ghengis Kahn to pick a favorite child. I will say this though, the best bagels I’ve ever had actually come from JP Bagels in Hoboken, New Jersey.

I could write an entire post on the topic of bagels and pizza alone, so I’ll just stop now.

Moving on…

So, what’s better than having NY/NJ bagels and pizza you may ask? How about having a mother who you swear has a serious phobia of you absolutely starving death if she doesn’t feed you at least 10,000 calories a day. Maybe I’m exaggerating? No, actually that’s an accurate figure… I stand by it.

Just a little snack

“Baby” Bro Tyler, Mom & Me… sisters Jen & Michelle no longer live in state

After telling my mother I didn’t want anything for Christmas that would add to my travel baggage, she thought outside the box to find a way to get me a gift, spend time together and lighten my load all at once… so she  treated me to my first pedicure.

Mom totally doing “blue steel” right hereπŸ˜†

As the time spent with my family is so very limited lately, I have cultivated a much deeper appreciation of our togetherness. This was one of the greater gifts that has come as a result of my new lifestyle. I am so very grateful to have them in my life and to call them my family.


What’s “bro-ing out” you might ask? I felt a strong need to dedicate a portion of this blog post to this topic as it has been brought to my attention quite recently that there is a plethora of people walking this Earth who have absolutely no idea what it means to “bro out”. As a seasoned bro-ing out veteran with over a decade of experience in the field, I’m sure you can understand how this comes as a complete and utter shock to me. That being said, I shall now promptly school those unversed in the anthropological intricacies of a proper Bro’s Night Out.

Let’s start at the beginning, with a standard phone call or text, that would go something like this:

WARNING: What you are about to read is very… uhh how do I say this… Bro-ey. I did however refrain from the usual 10-12 f-bombs that would be dropped in the conversation for no particular reason. Long Islanders curse a lot… f-ing deal with it.



Bro 1: Sup bro, you comin’ out tonight?

Bro 2: Hell yeah bro, what’s good?

Bro 1: Nothin… yo! We’re goin to the city tonight, you down?

Bro 2: Nice, who else is comin’?

Bro 1: You know, the usual… except [insert name of friend(s) who never comes out], because… well you know him.

Bro 2: Aight no doubt, what train we takin’? (note: this question is only asked if the aforementioned bros did not plan on pre-gaming together. If they had planned on doing so, they would most likely meet at a friend’s house to play beer pong and talk shit to each other until they ran out of beer.)

Bro 1: The 10:35 out of Pequa (LI slang for Massapequa)… meet you at Sevs @ 10:15 (“Sevs” is LI slang for 7-11, a convenience store with a plethora of cheap domestic beers which serve well for pre-gaming on the train)

Bro 2: Aight, peace

Bro 1: Peace


What goes on during a standard bro’s night out? Typically a dangerous mixture of alcohol, testosterone, shit-talking, sometimes horrible dancing and women chasing are the main cornerstones. Who said Americans had no culture!?πŸ˜‚

After ten years of working in corporate finance in New York City, I came to realize that drinking was one of my favorite numbing activities to assist me in forgetting about all the spreadsheets, conference calls, meetings and more spreadsheets I had to deal with Monday – Friday. Legendary and controversial comic Bill Hicks once said “There are essentially only two drugs that Western civilization tolerates: Caffeine from Monday to Friday to energize you enough to make you a productive member of society…

…and alcohol from Friday to Monday to keep you too stupid to figure out the prison that you are living in.”

Apologies if this strikes a chord with anyone. My intention for this blog was not merely to increase the seratonin levels of my readers, but rather to openly and wholeheartedly express my own truth as it finally comes to the surface after years of suppression.

You know what Plato said over 2 millennia ago:

Back to bro-ing out:

 At this point in my life, bro-ing out usually consists of happy hour and classy AF dinner parties with wine and cheese.

Needless to say, due to new life choices, I don’t “bro out” a fraction of the amount I used to, but still enjoy it from time to time. As famous 18th centrist British linguist and author Samuel Johnson once said: “He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man.” What can I say? Once in a while I still like to let the beast out of its cage.

This past Saturday, my good friends Matt & Lilian hosted a lovely holiday dinner party at their apartment with some of my closest friends, a handful of which I haven’t seen since I left NYC back in the summer of 2015.

We’re missing a few people in this photo but hey, better than nothing!

I was delighted to see that some of these friends are even breeding now! My actual words as I arrived at the party: “There are babies here!?!? Give them to me!”

Now in my thirties, this is what I call a great “bro’s night out”

After returning these adorable offspring to their rightful birth-givers and the party started winding down… I found some tequila and thought to myself: “I’ll just have a little taste.”

So yeah… I went clubbing @ the new club Flash Factory for some proper New York City house music until I couldn’t club anymore.

Note: House Music is not to be confused with EDM. EDM is nothing more than low-vibrational garbage noise for people with mental disabilities. I’m not joking…. it’s actually science. No, seriously. Here’s the article πŸ‘‰πŸΌ PEOPLE WHO LIKE EDM ARE TECHNICALLY RETARDED

It’s been a long time!

So how was it? I enjoyed myself thoroughly and it seemed like a good idea at the time. The next morning, however, was a different story.

Thanks for the memories to everyone who came out. I treasure your friendships and our time together. Until next time!


During my six months working at The Sanctuary, I’ve had the exquisite pleasure of living and working with some of the most incredible people I’ve ever met in my life. Many of whom I now consider my soul tribe that I’ve been waiting decades for to come and assist me in reshaping my archaic belief systems that no longer served me.

There was, however, one person who stood out among all the others. We met back in mid-June, just a few days before I flew to New York for a long overdue two week visit to see my family and friends. She and I kept in touch and upon my return, she and I were practically inseparable during her final week in Puerto Escondido. In the bat of an eye, we experienced what felt like a lifetime together.

From yoga on the palapa of the Sanctuary

to bonfires on the beach…

No, this isnt us, but I took the photo.

an overnight trip to Mazunte for the beautiful beaches and sunset @ the southern most point of Mexico, Punta Cometa (Comet Point). Shooting stars are a natural occurrence here, hence the name…

and we finished with an excursion to the Magic Mushroom Mountain Town of San Jose Del Pacifico.

Now I find myself in a similar position that I was in this past summer, back here in New York, literally counting down the days until I get back to her. We’ve been apart for 158 days, to be exact. Now, five months have passed since we said our goodbyes at the airport in Puerto Escondido. By the time you read this post I’ll be sitting in the airport patiently waiting for my 5:55 flight to take me back to her. Now we only have hours between us.


Somewhere… beyond the sea. She’s there watchin’ for me. 😊

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s