Slipping

It's funny how things slip away from you.

Friday was my birthday.  I was ridiculously happy.  I'm hitting the age when women stop getting excited for birthdays and start dreading them but I had none of that fear or angst.  I was thrilled.  Following a week of bronchitis, I was finally on my feet, accompanied by a cough, but still, I was out of bed and wearing make-up.  I felt accomplished and deliciously happy for the night ahead of me - all you can eat sushi.  All you can eat sushi is something I have witnessed but never partaken in, so to celebrate another year of my life, I decided to start by doing something new.  

And it was great!  Sublime food paired with limitless carafes of sake and pitchers of Sapporo.

But it's two days later and my head is swimming with confusion, doubt, and dilemmas as I try to rationalize my way to making a decision about life.  How is it that in less than 48 hours, utter job can turn to utter exhaustion?  

Low Blood Sugar and The Importance of Sleep

Blame yesterday on low blood and sugar and lack of sleep, it still does not detract from the lesson learned.  I need to maintain who I am despite the ease of slipping into something else.  

In a city so big, it takes a long time to reach others.  In a city so big, I have friends who all have serious boyfriends.  So in a city so big, it is desperately easy to fall in love with the idea of having someone who will always be available.  But the key to remember is I made on my own before and I can and should continue to make it (mostly, not all) on my own now. 

Losing Yourself - Independent to Reliant?

How is is that in two months, I have forgotten who I have become over the past year?

A formerly independent New Yorker, I have come to rely upon companionship.  Tonight I find myself facing a concert without anyone to join me and it has thrown me in a tizzy.  Ultimately, because I can't find anyone to come with me, I have to face that I am alone in the city.  Despite feeling connected and having friends, I once again have to admit that it's me against the world.  

Of course, while writing this I admit to myself that I have had very little sleep over the past few days so I am of course being overly melodramatic and ridiculous but that does not stop my feelings from pervading my every thought.

I feel alone.  I am alone.  I am alone because I have lost myself.  

Tonight I will find myself again.  I will recenter.  I will remember who I am and where I am going.  No distractions.

Perceptions and Misperceptions on Valentine's Day

Destined for Macy's, we walked earbuds split as we maneuvered uptown, dodging west and north depending upon the lights.  

Looking back now, I wonder how absurdly cute this must have appeared.  How cliche it was to walk arm in arm on Valentine's day, smiling ridiculously as we meandered with a bounce in our step carelessly synced to the music emanating from the ipod.

In any good adventure, the journey is better than the destination.  

Metaphor for My Life - The Birds?

When I say The Birds I do not mean the Hitchcock film, although, that being said, my hatred/fear of birds is only exacerbated by it.  However, the point of this post is not famous films but birds.  Pigeons to be more precise.

I hate pigeons.  They are dirty, obnoxious, and dauntingly attempt to splatter you from above, dropping white bombs of pure hatred.  So why is it that despite my hatred of pigeons, part of what I love about New York is pigeons?  There is something that is so New York about a pigeon flocked park.  Maybe Home Alone (one, two, three?  who knows) did it to me but I am programmed to see a pigeon in a pack and think of NYC. 

So is it hate or is it love?  More of an awkward respect.  They promise not to shit on me and I will promise not to accidentally kick them when they get in my way.

Giving Up

How does someone choose to give up?  How does someone decide that it's just too hard?  How does someone choose it's not worth it to fight to be with loved ones?

I can't be angry but I can be upset.  I have no possible way of understanding how difficult this is and perhaps I'm being completely selfish...

Who I was, Who I am, Who I will be

This weekend my roommate's best friend is visiting again and I find myself remembering how different my interactions with him have been.

At first I was probably a bit flirtatious.  I wanted to be the cool, relaxed, cute roommate when I first moved in with the boys.

Later, I was probably the bitch.  Annoyed by the constant disrespect I received from my roommates, I turned into a bitter, nagging, unhappy wretch.

Today, today I feel nothing fake.  No anger, no desire to put forth an image of myself that may or may not be true.  I feel like myself.  I feel like a happy self.  Seeing myself here, I recognize where I've been.  And I feel triumphant.

Living for the Moment

Today I grabbed coffee with Jim.  I've decided Jim is my life guide.

My dilemma is based in my inability to leave behind what I know for an uncertain future.  Will what I find be better than what I have?  Have I persuaded myself that I will be happy when in reality I will not be?  Questions.  Questions that can in no way be answered until I jump.

And jump is what Jim said.

The only way to find jobs, to make it work, to live a life is to jump into it.  Sitting here waiting for the perfect job in the perfect city is hardly a valiant attempt at changing my life.  If I want to change jobs and change cities, I must first change cities and then find a job.  

This is where the challenge solidifies.  Over a year ago I easily packed up a few items and travelled to the unknown, without a job, a place to live, or anyway to support myself.  Things worked out as they always do, as they must.  

I say that, but now I am frozen, scared of failure if I move.  What if I don't find a job?  What if I can't make it?  How is it that I had the courage to tackle a move once, yet now I find myself quivering at the notion of leaving the only life I know?

But when Jim says jump, I jump!  The deadline is set, the pressure is on.  

Will I make it?

They Leave Yet I Remain

I remain while people come and people go.  It is strange to think that I was in NYC when Amy arrived and I am still here as she leaves.  It doesn't seem as though I have been here that long.  

Time in New York passes differently.  Take time to smell the flowers is a phrase foreign to New Yorkers.  There is no time.  There are no flowers.  There is always something pressing, engaging, demanding.  When I return home, when I have a free weekend out of the city, I have time to think about all that has happened in my life, but when I'm in NYC all I can do is race through everything, jumping from activity to activity without a chance to breathe.  So when I think I've been here for over a year, nearly a year and a half, I feel as though I've been plunged into icy cold water, shocked and speechless.  

If I stay in New York I will be 30 before I know it.

Restless

I feel restless and can't subdue the desire to break free. 

Works drains.

Can't stay awake.

Can't function.

Can't think.

New space, new air, new work, new people - bring me back to life.

Nothing Better

There's nothing better than discovering a new band.  

Although it's known at work I write concert reviews, it apparently did not register with Nichole until today, when, suddenly, she yelled at Lily through the wall.  Lily came over and, responding dutifully to Nichole's pointed questions, informed me of her roommate's boyfriend's band (isn't that how they all go).  

Aunt Martha

I went home and immediately searched for the band, but nothing came up.  I searched Aunt Martha and myspace.  Jackpot.  With only 19 friends, and songs played a max of 559 times, the band is little known, however, the vocals and beats are captivating.  Easily one of the top band's I have encountered this year!

Separating Work and Friendship

Last night seemed like any normal weekend evening but with one major difference - this time the band on stage was not any band, this time that band consisted of two close friends.  

As Eric and Romeo took the stage, I whispered to my friend, "This is strange.  Normally I'm in the audience thinking, 'yeah, that's right.  I'm judging you.  you don't even know it, wouldn't even expect it, but I'm judging you.  and yet here i am, thinking that i can't judge them because they're friends'.  

That being said, I'm writing, I'm critiquing, I'm hoping they'll like it!  

And again, that being said, I'm incredibly proud of how well they performed after only one full band rehearsal!  In fact, the limitations of the performance lie not in their talents, but in the acoustics of the venue.

Sex and the City?

My mom claims I had idealistic fantasies of my New York life being straight out of Sex and the City.  And maybe I did.  And maybe my life does resemble Sex and the City at times but the parallel always diminishes when financial stability is taken to account.  

However, this weekend I experienced a scene straight from the opening credits of Sex and the City.

Saturday night.  Snow/ice storm.  Realize my razor is at home while showering at the gym.  Despite my hike to 4th street, I discover my spa is closed.  I can tell I am going to be late already.

After finding a new affordable spa, shaving my legs, donning an outfit that does not involve Colby sweatpants, and doing my hair and makeup, I leave the apartment at 7:55.  I have to be in Korea town at 8 and I cannot afford a cab.  A short bus ride and a jaunt on the subway and I arrive at my destination, nearly.  Coming out the of station, I glance around to orient myself and head on my way but somehow I get turned around.  As I retrace my steps, suddenly I hear a rush of water.  I look up.  Spray rains down on me, drenching my coat, hat, pants, and suede boots.  Shrieking, I stand stock still, shocked by the extreme cold as the bus drives away.

Why is it that disaster only strikes when you finally have every hair in place, every eyelash curled?  Fortunately, people were understanding when I arrived, appearing closer to a drowned rat than an elegant New Yorker.

New Year, New Life?

Having spent the past six months trying to find my new, adult self, I turned the new year celebrating as only my "old self" would.

And last evening I found myself defensive about my "old self", or is it now my "current self"?

With a new year comes an identity crisis?