I wasn’t sure how I’d feel when I finally took my first flight. Despite delays in taking off, the security theater of the TSA, and the trial of sitting in front of loud children, I absolutely loved the experience.

I starred out the window admiring the sky for about an hour before I felt the need to even think about doing anything else. During that hour, I would not stop smiling and laughing. After years of relegating myself to the Northeast, I finally gave myself permission to go on a vacation, and it started with an experience I couldn’t have imagined.

My description may sound ridiculous to veteran fliers. One day, I may take the rush of a takeoff, the subsequent arial sightseeing, and the warmth of the sun on my face for granted. That day isn’t today, and while I’m still excited about it, I’m capturing that joy. Perhaps years from now, this post will help me remember the novelty of what then seems mundane.

As I work hard to become skilled and savvy enough to permanently break out of the Northeast, I’m going to be able to do all sorts of things I wasn’t able to do as a child. This summer, I’m proud to say I’ll be interning at Apple in Cupertino, California — a longtime dream of mine. In conjunction with the daily excitement of running a successful business, I’m never bored and always reaching new heights.

Recently, in describing these circumstances to a friend I hadn’t seen in years, I got excited and let this slip:

Honestly, I couldn’t be any happier.

In the week and a half since I said that, I’ve been desperately searching for grounds to retract that statement. If I’m going to drop words like those, I really have to mean them.

Despite my best efforts, my search turned up empty. I’m in a great place right now, and I’d like to thank you for your help getting here.

I’m done with the first leg of my summer journey, and I’m mostly pleased with how things turned out. Seeking to avoid the pain that comes with idleness, I decided to move to Medford, Massachusetts for the month of June and work a few web design jobs.

My primary job (40 hours a week) was doing front-end development for a social entrepreneurial startup with a few students at Harvard University. They’ve got a long way to go until launch, but I’m very confident that the project will be successful. It was a pleasure to work with individuals who grasp both web technology and social responsibility. I learned a lot during my time with them, and was sad to leave.

My second job was polishing TuftsBlogs.com, Tufts University’s Undergraduate Admission’s blogging portal, which I built over the last year. I’m pleased with the functionality and aesthetics of the site, overall, and look forward to see how Tufts’ social media strategy continues to pan out.

Finally, I was working for myself. My (recently incorporated!) business, GetchaBooks.com, is less than a month away from launching its next big iteration. My cofounders and I have been working hard to build a killer platform that takes the frustration out of textbook purchasing. We’re currently seeking beta testers and motivated students at schools across the country to help us spread the platform. If you’re interested, check out www.getchabooks.com to sign up for more information.

As you could imagine, working three jobs can be pretty stressful. At times, I felt overwhelmed. Nonetheless, life was awesome. It was exhilarating living away from home, without the burden of classes, completely managing my own time between days jobs, entrepreneurship, and socializing. I was efficient and effective, waking up each and every day with a purpose. I learned things every day, and had complete control of my life.

In that respect, my summer gamble has been a complete success. There were difficult life moments, including a bicycle accident, an incredibly sketchy Craigslist exchange, and a painful breakup that’s tested my character and personal identity. With the support of my friends, I’m working to overcome the obstacles that linger. Despite these problems, after a month of economic self-sufficiency, I’m confident I can succeed in this world. Now that I’ve done it once, I can do it again, and it feels great.

I’m back in Dover Plains, ready to embark on the second leg of my journey. Throughout July, will be director of the Dutchess Community College’s Computer Academy, the computer camp-classroom hybrid that I’ve been working at for the last three years. In addition to managing the Academy, I’ll be teaching a new introductory programming course, taught in Ruby, and something I’m calling “Future of the Web”, a crash-course in web design with a focus on features of the HTML5 spec.

My July will be a radical adjustment from the freelance lifestyle I’ve been living in the last month, but I embrace it with open arms. Education and access to information have always been important to me, and I’m really excited to directly contribute to the lives of children once more.

When the month is over, I plan on returning to Medford, just in time for a Keane concert in Boston that I’m super excited about. After the elation of the concert fades, I’m unsure if I’ll take on any jobs. My August priority is ensuring that GetchaBooks successfully relaunches, but I haven’t yet gauged how much of my time that will take. Certainly, I’ll figure it out.

Regardless, I will bring to August what I brought to June and hope to bring to July — sincerity and focus. Having tasted the lifestyle of a free spirit, I’m content with my life.

Thanks for taking the time to keep up with it, and take care.

Ten years ago, I was nine years old. My family had not yet moved to Dover Plains or even to Carmel, the community I lived in before moving to Dover. I spent most of my time playing video games, and struggled in school. I had a hole in my ear drum that prevented me from taking normal showers or swimming with my friends. Never had I operated a modern personal computer. A good deal of my mental energy was absorbed by jingles on TV, some that celebrated a new millennia.

In these ten years, I studied, worked, laughed, and cried. I took hundreds of standardized tests, met many people, and spoke dozens of million of words. I grew closer to some people, and drifted away from others. I had my fair share of heartache, but publicly and unashamedly fell for a beautiful woman at Tufts University.

Although that brief story seems pretty special to me, I bet it’s unremarkable to you. With some luck, your story has similar themes of progress and development. After all, a lot happens in ten years. In these last ten, many of us became completely different people, with something still recognizable from our pasts.

I love looking back every once in a while. It’s comforting, and I benefit as a person by remembering who I was, where I came from, and who helped me get where I am; it’s that benefit that pushes my evangelism of journaling.

If you’re not already taking a few moments a day to jot down what you’re thinking, you’re not really getting the full benefit of these collective, reflective moments. Although I’m not an expert on memory formation, I know you’re missing a lot if you don’t write stuff down. To reflect on what remains in our heads over a long period is incomplete; leave notes to yourself to piece together a more complete narrative.

Entering this new year, give journaling a shot. If you’re celebrating the dawn of a new decade tonight, remember to remember it.

If you see me in my daily life, you know this by now. However, this blog community is neglected, and it’s time for some loving.

I’m about 90% sure that I’m going to attempt a double major of Computer Science and Political Science at Tufts. I think those two majors pretty much sum up the intersection of my interests in this world. Sure, there’s no cohesive element between them, and I’m fairly certain that a focus on one diminishes my focus on the other, but thinking about this double major makes me happy. That’s what matters, right?

I’ll likely be declaring this soon, but there are a few details to work out. We’ll see what happens.

As I went to sleep that night, I knew the world had changed forever. However, I was at an age where I was not old enough to fully grok the implications of that day, as it happened. The course of events that was set off has dictated national and international politics from that day forward, and obviously, stole loved ones from the people of the United States and the world. Living so close to the city, I still get emotional when I think about the day in terms of personal and human tragedy, rather than history and politics, and I’ve brought myself to tears in writing this post.

Today, feelings are complicated, as the grief and ramifications of September 11, 2001 are swept further into the past. The United States will never fully recover from the attacks, and they’ll be with me for the rest of my life.

I cannot help but recall a powerful experience I had in my high school two years ago. A year ago from today, I reposted my recounting of that experience. I’ve elected to repost it again, because I find its narrative compelling.

I had an intense experience this morning, and I’ll never forget it. At Dover Middle/High School, HS Student Council members have to say the pledge and read the morning’s announcements each day. This month is my assigned month (and some other people’s), and I had an additional duty this morning. Directly after saying the pledge, I was to instruct the student body to remain standing for a moment of silence to remember everyone impacted or stolen from us six years ago.

While reciting the pledge and this unique announcement, I became very emotional. I was certain that I would be fine before doing it, but upon saying, “I pledge,” I felt immensely sad. Completing sentences was painful, and I’m amazed that I was able to finish the task without stopping completely.

It was obvious that I was troubled by the task, but people were kind enough not to say anything to me about it. I wish I didn’t have to do that this morning. To a much greater extent, I wish no one had to.

The fact that no one ever commented on my emotional stumbling over the pledge that day resonates with me. Those moments of shared understanding are rare and powerful.

…

If you’re looking for something else to read today, I highly recommend this post from Christopher Penn.

Against all odds, I manage to make these preferences sync with a passion for the music of Kanye West. Despite all you’ve heard about his lackluster personality, he’s a musical genius. There’s something indescribable to it. The best I can do to is say that I have a blast listening to it.

Imagine my shock to learn today (thanks, Tom!) that Keane have confirmed a collaboration with Kanye West.

Chaplin said the band have already spent a day in the studio with the rapper, and that the resulting song – which still needs to be finished off – will hopefully be released before the end of the year.

“We worked with Kanye just for one night, but we’re hoping to get some more stuff done with him in the next few weeks,” the frontman toldNME.COM after playing the Ibiza Rocks festival. “But he’s obviously a very busy man, and we’re quite busy as well at the moment. But we should have something really, really great to show for it hopefully later this year.”

I think I just died happy. This will either be the best four minutes of music ever, or the weirdest.

College is hard. That is to say, time management is hard. In a ridiculously social environment, it’s hard to make time to sit in front of a computer for the sake of sitting in front of the computer. I took five classes this last semester, and have been funneling tons of time into the Tufts Roundtable, a new publication at Tufts. I’m the head web designer.

What I’ve run against over the last year is the ongoing debate between living life and broadcasting life. It’s a debate I’ve been struggling with, and over the last eight months, I’ve focused on living over lifecasting. With my new pool of time, we’ll see how that changes.

This last semester was amazing, and I’ve actually had the time of my life at Tufts. For better or worse, I’ll be passing my time in Dover Plains until September, and because I’m Ricky, I have goals for that time.

1. Resting.
2. Reading.
3. Getting outside.
4. Tinkering with computers.
5. Spending time with friends.

This July, I’ll be working my standard summer job at the Dutchess Community College Computer Academy, a computer camp for kids. Other than that, I have no concrete plans. I’m looking for another job, or some volunteer work in Dutchess or Putnam counties. Let me know if you have anything in mind.

Oh, and welcome back! I’ll be writing much more often than I have now.

Today, I found my favorite video from when I was a kid – it’s Phil Collins’ final song on his Farewell Tour. He’s performing Take Me Home, undoubtedly one of the greatest songs ever written. I remember watching this video over and over again on a VHS tape. To me, it’s inspiring.

My point in writing this post isn’t to get you to listening to Phil Collins. Rather, I urge you search YouTube for things you loved as a kid. You’ll be amazed and delighted at what you find.

I know I’ve picked up a few readers since my last Resolution Experiment post, so I’ll explain the game I started playing on January 1, 2008. It’s easiest for me to quote myself from nine months ago.

A year is a long time. It’s around three hundred sixty-five days on our Gregorian calendar. By my unscientific estimate, most people forget their new year’s resolution a few months into the new year. Wouldn’t that time be better spent spacing out several small-scale resolutions – temporary efforts that add up to much more than the sum of their parts?

I think so. At least, it’s worth a shot.

I’ve had some successes and yes, some failures with this experiment. Here’s the way I look at it: with this experiment, this harmless effort, I’ve done more good for myself than if I hadn’t started it.

September was my month of adjusting to college life, which I think I’ve done a great job at. I made a conscious effort to be as sociable as possible, and I’m happy to say I now have an awesome group of friends. I plan to take it up a notch in October, however. I’ve decided to alter my diet somewhat and try an experiment that I never would have seen myself doing nine months ago.

I’m going to make a conscious effort to reduce the amount of meat that I eat on a daily basis.

To you, that might not sound like much. You’re right, it isn’t for lots of people. For me, however, it’s a paradigm shift. I come from a household where some type of meat is the cornerstone of most meals. Challenging that assumption, which I’m able to do with the ridiculously large selection of food at Tufts, opens doors.

Yes, I realize that this monthly resolution may sound exceedingly lame to you, but we all have our personal shortcomings and goals. For this reason, I call on you to try something new this month. Volunteer your time, go on a diet, make an effort to get organized, read more, start an exercise routine, or try anything to be an even better person than you already are.

And please, let me know how it goes.