When you meet someone for the first time, how do you introduce yourself? More often than not it begins with an exchange of names and handshakes. But does that give an accurate description of who you are? My Irish first name hides the fact that I’m actually Polish, and my firm handshake deceives my new acquaintance into thinking that I possess any confidence in my current place in life whatsoever.

So what is it that defines oneself? Is it your profession, your passion, or your interests? Maybe you see yourself as being a combination of your flaws and weaknesses. Or maybe you’re more confident and focus in on your strengths. Are you your age, your hometown, your religion? Official forms of any kind want you to be your gender and your race. Sometimes I think it would be more interesting if we skipped all of the professional and pretentious characteristics and just introduced ourselves with a favorite quote or the first five songs that come up if you shuffle your iTunes:

"I have everywhere to go and anything to see. My destination is culture and knowledge and experience." - John Morgan: “Waking Up to Winter"   

Sweet Child of Mine – Guns N’ Roses

Keep On – Eric Church

Glory Days – Bruce Springsteen

Feel Me Flow– Naughty By Nature

Three Little Birds – Bob Marley

Maybe that says something about me. Maybe it doesn’t. 

I claim to be a lot of things lately. At first I was my college major (a journalist and an artist), but I quickly grew bored and felt trapped within the confines of the “rules” of journalism. And really, who in New York City isn't an artist? So I've just been professing myself a writer who works in the editorial department of an advertising firm and gets her rocks off correcting grammar. No really, I am in love with the English language. The oldest story in the book and just as common as the martyr artist. But is this correct? I spend more time reading than I actually do writing, and when I do write, it’s not anything I ever want the world to see, or things I never finish. They begin as ideas or fragments of sentences written on receipts or tiny notepads and tossed in a jacket pocket and forgotten about.

Now I’m even claiming to be a runner, simply because I have this goal of completing a marathon by my 30th birthday. I’m four months into my “training” and if you could see me struggling through the park on mile five, you would most definitely not consider me a runner.

So who am I?

I am a coffee drinking, wine tasting, book reading, rock n' roll loving, note scribbling, shower singing, restless soul. Welcome.