So, last night I'm waiting for The Fresh Prince of Grosse Pointe to show up to a movie after our separate work out classes. The movie we agreed on started at 8:25pm so naturally I bought tickets for the 9:05pm show as he really has little to no knowledge on how clocks work and he cares even less than he knows. Now that I'm very well-versed in his total and utter disregard for punctuality, and benefit from it when I don't feel like getting out of bed for brunch on Sundays, it is almost admirable. I have to assume the watch he wears every day is basically a prop. I'm not even sure it has a battery in it; I don't recall ever hearing it ticking and he often wears it in the shower. Anyway...
I'm chilling in the theater waiting for him and I happened scroll through Twitter. I ended up being the crazy girl, sitting on a bench, crying her eyeliner off while laughing. I'm not sure what it is about Monday nights that makes people funnier than normal, but it was a good time. When he finally arrived (at 8:40pm because he also has NO idea that it takes longer than 15 minutes from Birmingham to Novi, but I digress, the dude will never learn and I pick my battles wisely) I asked him if he'd like me to read him some of the highlights, but as he has zero patience for snarky social media when he's hungry, he just kissed my cheek and wandered off to buy pretzels and inquire about the probability of getting a frozen coke cocktail. Priorities.
I thought I would share some of the sick shit I decided was comical and/or noteworthy:
Ike Barinholtz @ikebarinholtz (an actor and writer for The Mindy Project)
I can only assume that Papa John has photos and or video of Peyton Manning eating out an old cat or something
Christine Teigen @chrissyteigen (model, wife of John Legend, Twitter champion) I don't care what you have to say about miley that bikini line is ingrown fucking free and I respect it
Girls @girlsHBO (the show) "Why don't you place just one crumb of basic human compassion on this fat-free muffin of sociopathic attachment? See how it tastes"
Ike Barinholtz @ikebarinholtz (again, because he's fucking hilarious) I think we can all agree that "Phillybuster" would be a great name for a cheese steak restaurant in Washington DC
Jenni Konner @campsucks My blood type is smoothie
Bosh The Type @BoshTheTypee (a parody account of Drake The Type profiling black men. It's great) Bosh the type of nigga to call Wade and say "I just wanted to hear your voice"
Christine Teigen @chrissyteigen (I said she was a champion) I've been in hundreds of airport bathrooms, but congrats to Newark, NJ, who takes the title of "only restroom that needs a fucking eye wash" (I would have to agree with this and add in certain terminals of LaGuardia)
Dane Cook @DaneCook (comedian, duh) If you meet a guy and he doesn't stare at your tits...something is really, really wrong with your tits.
These are just a few, and maybe I'm the only person that finds them funny, but I'm awesome so you should really laugh at whatever I laugh at. A little tip from me to you.
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Friday, November 22, 2013
Jackie
I'm not really sure why, but I have always felt very affected by the JFK assassination. I wasn't alive, my mother and father were in grade school. My family doesn't really discuss it or seem that scarred by it.
Maybe it starts with Jackie. I could literally look at pictures of Jackie Kennedy all day long. She seemed to embody human grace at all times. One second, a regal woman in a ball gown, the next a mother in a shift dress letting her children play in the White House fountain. She was everything all at once.
It could be the absolute devotion she showed to her marriage; to a husband who was reportedly insensitive and unfaithful to her. Still, her commitment to her man, his career, her children, her privacy and American dignity in general are unparalleled. And it's funny, at the time my obsession with her began, I would have never pictured myself dating a JFK type, but boy, did that turn out differently. Aggressive side-part, charm and charisma all day long up in these parts. But far too many skeletons peeking out of his closet to be a politician, thankfully.
I think what honestly attaches me most to them and to her is the utter shock and grief that must have pressed down on her this day 50 years ago. They say that when you experience stress or hard times with a man, it bonds you closer together. The Kennedy's had their share of stress long before that day in Texas. They had come through it together. Still smiling. Still united. And then in one instant....to look over and see your husband clutching his bleeding neck. To go from attempting to help him or understand what's happening to watching a bullet crash into his head right before your eyes. Holding him shattered and bleeding to death in your lap. Watching his body rushed into the hospital. Watching his casket loaded into a hearse. Watching his Vice President sworn into his spot before you have even changed your suit or washed his blood off your legs. Knowing a nation has to deal with an enormous loss and change, but you have to be pulled together enough to tell your children that they lost their father. I honestly can not imagine. And when I try, my eyes fill with tears.
The media speaks of the assassination often as "Innocence Lost" or "The Fall of Camelot". In some ways, it really was, but in other ways I feel the opposite. Jack Kennedy was not innocent. But his wife loved him anyway. She loved him and supported him tirelessly and fought to keep their matters private and their marriage intact and then she had to watch close up as a bullet killed him. The more time you spend with a man you love, the more defensive of him and devoted to him you become. To watch the object of your profound dedication murdered beside you is one of the absolute worst things I can imagine. And Jackie Kennedy is a testament to the strength of a woman to not crumble in the wake of November 22, 1963.
Maybe it starts with Jackie. I could literally look at pictures of Jackie Kennedy all day long. She seemed to embody human grace at all times. One second, a regal woman in a ball gown, the next a mother in a shift dress letting her children play in the White House fountain. She was everything all at once.
It could be the absolute devotion she showed to her marriage; to a husband who was reportedly insensitive and unfaithful to her. Still, her commitment to her man, his career, her children, her privacy and American dignity in general are unparalleled. And it's funny, at the time my obsession with her began, I would have never pictured myself dating a JFK type, but boy, did that turn out differently. Aggressive side-part, charm and charisma all day long up in these parts. But far too many skeletons peeking out of his closet to be a politician, thankfully.
I think what honestly attaches me most to them and to her is the utter shock and grief that must have pressed down on her this day 50 years ago. They say that when you experience stress or hard times with a man, it bonds you closer together. The Kennedy's had their share of stress long before that day in Texas. They had come through it together. Still smiling. Still united. And then in one instant....to look over and see your husband clutching his bleeding neck. To go from attempting to help him or understand what's happening to watching a bullet crash into his head right before your eyes. Holding him shattered and bleeding to death in your lap. Watching his body rushed into the hospital. Watching his casket loaded into a hearse. Watching his Vice President sworn into his spot before you have even changed your suit or washed his blood off your legs. Knowing a nation has to deal with an enormous loss and change, but you have to be pulled together enough to tell your children that they lost their father. I honestly can not imagine. And when I try, my eyes fill with tears.
The media speaks of the assassination often as "Innocence Lost" or "The Fall of Camelot". In some ways, it really was, but in other ways I feel the opposite. Jack Kennedy was not innocent. But his wife loved him anyway. She loved him and supported him tirelessly and fought to keep their matters private and their marriage intact and then she had to watch close up as a bullet killed him. The more time you spend with a man you love, the more defensive of him and devoted to him you become. To watch the object of your profound dedication murdered beside you is one of the absolute worst things I can imagine. And Jackie Kennedy is a testament to the strength of a woman to not crumble in the wake of November 22, 1963.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
A Hundy.
Today is my 100 Club day at Pure Barre. I know it seems stupid to a few people, but it's just miraculous to me.
I thrive on devotion. I really do. But I thrive on my devotion to other people, never to myself; it's what defines me in a very real way. This class is the first time I really devoted something all to me.
I really never knew how rewarding it would be to spend a bunch of money, make time in my schedule and show up in stretch pants and a tank top to this class. I loved it, first thing for sure, but I didn't know then that I would become almost dependent on it. I took a break for 2 months to save money for a wedding flight, a trip to New York and to just try working out on my own as well. What a joke. I wish I had never taken that break. But it made sense in a different way and solidified my belief in and devotion to this class and myself.
Aside for all the "fun" stuff this class provides like hearing all the best new music first, joking around during warm up, the cute outfits, the fun challenges the instructors make up to get you to more classes, the hanging out with all the girls afterwards or on weekends for tailgates, there is the absolute focus. The watching yourself transform inside and out. I may not have realized it without the break. I came back after 2 months and it was like starting over. I had no idea how much strength I had already built.
During many classes, when one of the instructors walks around, she wills you through certain stages with her words. They'll call you out by name with encouragement and compliments. They really coach you through. Some of my favorite phrases are "You have only 20 more seconds here, you can do anything for 20 seconds", "Your mind will give up before your body, your body will not stop", "If you're not challenging, you're not changing, you're here for that shake, get your muscles there". But my absolute favorites are "You are SO much stronger than you know, stay in it!" and the best..."This is an hour ALL for you You'll get out of it what you put into it.".
I didn't pay a lot of attention to that sentence when I first started, but I realize its importance now. As I dedicate SO much of my time to other places and definitely other people, it is so crucial to have time each day for me and I can't think of a better way to make myself stronger and stronger. When I'm there, I'm not worried about anything else but my body and my mind. I'm not worrying about what others think of me, where else I could be, the money I'm spending, none of it. I'm putting my mind to the muscle I'm working or stretching and listening to the music and instructor, attempting to perfect my form or feel the move a little deeper.
I truly never expected the validation I feel in watching my body change and get stronger and more able and flexible. I'm definitely more toned, that's great to look at and feel, but I'm also more centered, my balance is better, my mind pushes me farther in other areas, I have more energy AND more patience, I don't feel guilty when I want ice cream because I know what I'm capable of for one hour a day in Pure Barre.
Most of all, I feel beaming pride. A lot of people sit around saying "Yeah, I'm going to run, I'm going to change my body when I get time", but the thing is, you think you have time. But you don't. You think you're healthy, but you're not. You have not one second on earth that is guaranteed to you, why not just get up and do it now? See what your body is capable of? I used to be that person. And now I'm the person who rearranges plans to make it to class because I want to leave and see my hamstrings bigger or feel extremely stretched and relaxed or just know my commitment to myself is intact. It makes me a better person. It makes me incredibly excited to know I've kept myself going for 100 classes and I'm STILL pushing and learning and struggling to get through sets. I've come this far and I have very far to go. It's thrilling. It makes me proud of myself and my devotion to everyone and everything else stronger because I know how strong I am.
Plus, lets not kid around, my ass is OUTSTANDING. And only getting better. Bonus!
I thrive on devotion. I really do. But I thrive on my devotion to other people, never to myself; it's what defines me in a very real way. This class is the first time I really devoted something all to me.
I really never knew how rewarding it would be to spend a bunch of money, make time in my schedule and show up in stretch pants and a tank top to this class. I loved it, first thing for sure, but I didn't know then that I would become almost dependent on it. I took a break for 2 months to save money for a wedding flight, a trip to New York and to just try working out on my own as well. What a joke. I wish I had never taken that break. But it made sense in a different way and solidified my belief in and devotion to this class and myself.
Aside for all the "fun" stuff this class provides like hearing all the best new music first, joking around during warm up, the cute outfits, the fun challenges the instructors make up to get you to more classes, the hanging out with all the girls afterwards or on weekends for tailgates, there is the absolute focus. The watching yourself transform inside and out. I may not have realized it without the break. I came back after 2 months and it was like starting over. I had no idea how much strength I had already built.
During many classes, when one of the instructors walks around, she wills you through certain stages with her words. They'll call you out by name with encouragement and compliments. They really coach you through. Some of my favorite phrases are "You have only 20 more seconds here, you can do anything for 20 seconds", "Your mind will give up before your body, your body will not stop", "If you're not challenging, you're not changing, you're here for that shake, get your muscles there". But my absolute favorites are "You are SO much stronger than you know, stay in it!" and the best..."This is an hour ALL for you You'll get out of it what you put into it.".
I didn't pay a lot of attention to that sentence when I first started, but I realize its importance now. As I dedicate SO much of my time to other places and definitely other people, it is so crucial to have time each day for me and I can't think of a better way to make myself stronger and stronger. When I'm there, I'm not worried about anything else but my body and my mind. I'm not worrying about what others think of me, where else I could be, the money I'm spending, none of it. I'm putting my mind to the muscle I'm working or stretching and listening to the music and instructor, attempting to perfect my form or feel the move a little deeper.
I truly never expected the validation I feel in watching my body change and get stronger and more able and flexible. I'm definitely more toned, that's great to look at and feel, but I'm also more centered, my balance is better, my mind pushes me farther in other areas, I have more energy AND more patience, I don't feel guilty when I want ice cream because I know what I'm capable of for one hour a day in Pure Barre.
Most of all, I feel beaming pride. A lot of people sit around saying "Yeah, I'm going to run, I'm going to change my body when I get time", but the thing is, you think you have time. But you don't. You think you're healthy, but you're not. You have not one second on earth that is guaranteed to you, why not just get up and do it now? See what your body is capable of? I used to be that person. And now I'm the person who rearranges plans to make it to class because I want to leave and see my hamstrings bigger or feel extremely stretched and relaxed or just know my commitment to myself is intact. It makes me a better person. It makes me incredibly excited to know I've kept myself going for 100 classes and I'm STILL pushing and learning and struggling to get through sets. I've come this far and I have very far to go. It's thrilling. It makes me proud of myself and my devotion to everyone and everything else stronger because I know how strong I am.
Plus, lets not kid around, my ass is OUTSTANDING. And only getting better. Bonus!
Thursday, November 14, 2013
It Never Is
Sometimes I think I see her.
I'll see a long blond ponytail swinging ahead of me walking in a crowd and I'll speed up a little...
I'll be waiting for my drink at Starbucks, staring around the place as usual, and I'll hear her name called and look to see if it's her picking up a vanilla latte. It never is.
A lot, in Pure Barre, I'll hear an instructor call out a compliment to her name and I'll break concentration to turn and see if, for some insane reason, it's her in my class. No idea why she would ever be there, so far away, but if she were, she'd most definitely be getting shout outs.
Every now and then I'll be out at dinner and I'll hear someone speaking loudly, quickly and then laugh and I'll turn just to make sure. That person will make eye contact with me and we'll both smile, but its never her.
Definitely in airports. I keep thinking as I wait for flights, I'm going to be sweeping my eyes across the others in terminals waiting to board and lock eyes with her. But that doesn't ever happen.
When I'm picking out nail colors. Or putting on too much eyeliner. When someone speaks like her or rolls their eyes in the same way. When I need shoe advice. Or when I tell myself to take off one sparkly thing before leaving the house. When I put on perfume I know she would hate. When I want to talk about TV shows. When I shop for jeans. When I hold a baby. When I know I need tough love.
Sometimes its a happy, warm feeling. Sometimes its a desperate, sad, longing feeling. Sometimes it just feels like a void. It's no longer an angry feeling. Toward her, anyway. Sometimes I think it would be easier if she really had died instead of just feeling like she did. I realize that's awful, but what the head knows and the heart feels doesn't always match up logically.
Le Sigh.
I'll see a long blond ponytail swinging ahead of me walking in a crowd and I'll speed up a little...
I'll be waiting for my drink at Starbucks, staring around the place as usual, and I'll hear her name called and look to see if it's her picking up a vanilla latte. It never is.
A lot, in Pure Barre, I'll hear an instructor call out a compliment to her name and I'll break concentration to turn and see if, for some insane reason, it's her in my class. No idea why she would ever be there, so far away, but if she were, she'd most definitely be getting shout outs.
Every now and then I'll be out at dinner and I'll hear someone speaking loudly, quickly and then laugh and I'll turn just to make sure. That person will make eye contact with me and we'll both smile, but its never her.
Definitely in airports. I keep thinking as I wait for flights, I'm going to be sweeping my eyes across the others in terminals waiting to board and lock eyes with her. But that doesn't ever happen.
When I'm picking out nail colors. Or putting on too much eyeliner. When someone speaks like her or rolls their eyes in the same way. When I need shoe advice. Or when I tell myself to take off one sparkly thing before leaving the house. When I put on perfume I know she would hate. When I want to talk about TV shows. When I shop for jeans. When I hold a baby. When I know I need tough love.
Sometimes its a happy, warm feeling. Sometimes its a desperate, sad, longing feeling. Sometimes it just feels like a void. It's no longer an angry feeling. Toward her, anyway. Sometimes I think it would be easier if she really had died instead of just feeling like she did. I realize that's awful, but what the head knows and the heart feels doesn't always match up logically.
Le Sigh.
Monday, November 11, 2013
Hindsight....Is Carrie Bradshaw Actually Just A Childish Bitch?....
So.
I'm not trying to knock how great the series was. I really love the writing; some of it is so easy to relate to, funny and inspiring, at the very least, thought-provoking. But I have to say....watching Sex & The City years later, I'm really rethinking a lot of shit that went down.
Put down the knife, wipe the scowl, let me explain....
1. WTF is with the smoking? We just accepted it as it was part of Carrie's character, but bitch is RUDE about it. It's not as if she's only smoking in bars or outdoor areas, she lights up at dinner in a restaurant, at dinner parties, at a professional photo shoot?? Pretty gross. Pretty frickin' gross. Even if smoking laws were more relaxed back then.
2. The episode where Carrie throws the bitchfit at the Upper East Side party?? WTF?! "Ugh, I hate Park Avenue. It's like a foreign country". Fine. You don't have to spend much time there, you're a guest of Big's, there's free booze. Just keep your judgmental yap shut, or make conversation, but don't act like an asshole when the cokehead host asks you to please smoke on the balcony instead of inside her gorgeous townhouse. It's not a big deal. Sure, she's anal and probably ridiculous, but you're not moving in. Oh! and then you're there with your boyfriend whom you desperately want to love you, and you're pissed so you refer to him as "some guy" to the waiter, who you also let expose his crotch tattoo to you in view of a fancy party. Carrie, get your shit together. This is not acceptable behavior for a smart woman in her thirties. This is petulant. I won't even bother to throw in the part where you end up taking the waiter home with you...slut. And you know, this is sort of Carrie's attitude throughout the series!!! She's a total games player. Seriously. Use your words. You're a writer! Why did we justify so much of her behavior? I don't get it now.
3. In this same episode, Miranda really screws herself with pressuring Steve about the firm dinner. If she knows the dude is a poor bartender, present the opportunity to attend the dinner to him differently. "Hey, my Firm dinner is this week, it's going to be pretty fancy and boring, I'd love for you to go, but if you don't feel comfortable, or don't have anything to wear, I totally understand, I'll meet up after to give you a beej." Not "You have a gold cord suit? Fuck. Just fuck. You're scummy." She set him up to feel inferior, he didn't just bust it out on her. I mean, he could have said "This is a great idea, wanting to buy me this suit and all, I just don't feel comfortable with it, I'll get one somewhere else, I'll go to the next firm dinner, you fancy bitch, you.". But dudes don't want to admit defeat. Steve breaking up with her at her door before the dinner, dick move. But she set him up to feel shitty so maybe he wanted to show her some payback.
4. Don't get me wrong, the episode when Harry sees Charlotte at the party and asks her to marry him totes made me blubber, still does to this day. But Charlotte screaming in his face "Set the date! Do you know what people think when they see us on the street together?! Set the date!!" I mean... honestly, how does Harry forgive her for saying that??! To know your mate sees you as incredibly physically below them, and that everyone knows it and is also judging them, and points that out to you as a reason you should marry them??? How do you just brush that away? I guess worse things can be said over the course of a relationship, but shit. That's awful. Just truly awful.
5. Samantha is honestly the most logical and real character on this show. Sure, she is supposedly the power whore, but at least she owns it. And aside for all the sex, in public, she's actually quite a lady. Owning your potent sexuality doesn't make you a bad girl. She doesn't play games with men, she doesn't play games with her friends, she puts it all out there - win or lose. She handles her sexuality with strength and a bit of comedy and she handles her struggles with grace and poise. Maybe she wasn't "the star" because she's not that complicated and as women, we don't like to admit that we like complication. She's incredibly secure and tolerates her bits of vulnerability the best she can and for some reason, she's downplayed because she's so outwardly sexual.
I still love this series and I can watch it overandoverandover, but I'm saying, the older I get, the more I see Carrie as a bit of a childish, indecisive mess and less of a heroine. I still think she's a great character because she's interesting, but someone to aspire to? mmmmm maybe in your twenties. Hopefully, by your thirties, you'll realize that smoking all over everyone, attempting to trick and cajole your boyfriend into calling you his soul mate, and over-thinking every.single.emotion you have is just not...fabulous.
I'm not trying to knock how great the series was. I really love the writing; some of it is so easy to relate to, funny and inspiring, at the very least, thought-provoking. But I have to say....watching Sex & The City years later, I'm really rethinking a lot of shit that went down.
Put down the knife, wipe the scowl, let me explain....
1. WTF is with the smoking? We just accepted it as it was part of Carrie's character, but bitch is RUDE about it. It's not as if she's only smoking in bars or outdoor areas, she lights up at dinner in a restaurant, at dinner parties, at a professional photo shoot?? Pretty gross. Pretty frickin' gross. Even if smoking laws were more relaxed back then.
2. The episode where Carrie throws the bitchfit at the Upper East Side party?? WTF?! "Ugh, I hate Park Avenue. It's like a foreign country". Fine. You don't have to spend much time there, you're a guest of Big's, there's free booze. Just keep your judgmental yap shut, or make conversation, but don't act like an asshole when the cokehead host asks you to please smoke on the balcony instead of inside her gorgeous townhouse. It's not a big deal. Sure, she's anal and probably ridiculous, but you're not moving in. Oh! and then you're there with your boyfriend whom you desperately want to love you, and you're pissed so you refer to him as "some guy" to the waiter, who you also let expose his crotch tattoo to you in view of a fancy party. Carrie, get your shit together. This is not acceptable behavior for a smart woman in her thirties. This is petulant. I won't even bother to throw in the part where you end up taking the waiter home with you...slut. And you know, this is sort of Carrie's attitude throughout the series!!! She's a total games player. Seriously. Use your words. You're a writer! Why did we justify so much of her behavior? I don't get it now.
3. In this same episode, Miranda really screws herself with pressuring Steve about the firm dinner. If she knows the dude is a poor bartender, present the opportunity to attend the dinner to him differently. "Hey, my Firm dinner is this week, it's going to be pretty fancy and boring, I'd love for you to go, but if you don't feel comfortable, or don't have anything to wear, I totally understand, I'll meet up after to give you a beej." Not "You have a gold cord suit? Fuck. Just fuck. You're scummy." She set him up to feel inferior, he didn't just bust it out on her. I mean, he could have said "This is a great idea, wanting to buy me this suit and all, I just don't feel comfortable with it, I'll get one somewhere else, I'll go to the next firm dinner, you fancy bitch, you.". But dudes don't want to admit defeat. Steve breaking up with her at her door before the dinner, dick move. But she set him up to feel shitty so maybe he wanted to show her some payback.
4. Don't get me wrong, the episode when Harry sees Charlotte at the party and asks her to marry him totes made me blubber, still does to this day. But Charlotte screaming in his face "Set the date! Do you know what people think when they see us on the street together?! Set the date!!" I mean... honestly, how does Harry forgive her for saying that??! To know your mate sees you as incredibly physically below them, and that everyone knows it and is also judging them, and points that out to you as a reason you should marry them??? How do you just brush that away? I guess worse things can be said over the course of a relationship, but shit. That's awful. Just truly awful.
5. Samantha is honestly the most logical and real character on this show. Sure, she is supposedly the power whore, but at least she owns it. And aside for all the sex, in public, she's actually quite a lady. Owning your potent sexuality doesn't make you a bad girl. She doesn't play games with men, she doesn't play games with her friends, she puts it all out there - win or lose. She handles her sexuality with strength and a bit of comedy and she handles her struggles with grace and poise. Maybe she wasn't "the star" because she's not that complicated and as women, we don't like to admit that we like complication. She's incredibly secure and tolerates her bits of vulnerability the best she can and for some reason, she's downplayed because she's so outwardly sexual.
I still love this series and I can watch it overandoverandover, but I'm saying, the older I get, the more I see Carrie as a bit of a childish, indecisive mess and less of a heroine. I still think she's a great character because she's interesting, but someone to aspire to? mmmmm maybe in your twenties. Hopefully, by your thirties, you'll realize that smoking all over everyone, attempting to trick and cajole your boyfriend into calling you his soul mate, and over-thinking every.single.emotion you have is just not...fabulous.
Monday, October 21, 2013
But, The Cronut Line Was Too Long *Sad Face*
I finally did it. I finally visited New York.
No work, no agenda, nothing to do but soak in the city with two of my best friends. I will never forget looking out the plane window and instantly recognizing the shape of Manhattan and the only light being the glare from the rising sun bouncing off the Freedom Tower. It was a major moment.
I really found it to be a louder, more crowded, more aggressive, more diverse, chicer version of Chicago. WHICH IS FANTASTIC. Don't get me wrong, I love Chicago intensely, but it's almost a 3rd home for me at this point, I can navigate it with ease.
New York felt new and scary and overwhelming. I love still getting that feeling as an adult. Sometimes you don't know if anything can shock you, intimidate you, or impress you anymore. Good to know how wrong I was.
I don't know that I have what it takes to be a true New Yorker; I'm far too sentimental. I do envy them though, they're tough. It's a humbling place that makes LA look like an elementary school play. It's pushy and angled and harsh and smelly and bustling and smart-assed and hypocritical and snobby and packed yet accepting of you, no matter what you want to be. Unless you want to be a little bitch and walk slowly.
Obviously, I loved it. I'm already looking at plane tickets to return.
No work, no agenda, nothing to do but soak in the city with two of my best friends. I will never forget looking out the plane window and instantly recognizing the shape of Manhattan and the only light being the glare from the rising sun bouncing off the Freedom Tower. It was a major moment.
I really found it to be a louder, more crowded, more aggressive, more diverse, chicer version of Chicago. WHICH IS FANTASTIC. Don't get me wrong, I love Chicago intensely, but it's almost a 3rd home for me at this point, I can navigate it with ease.
New York felt new and scary and overwhelming. I love still getting that feeling as an adult. Sometimes you don't know if anything can shock you, intimidate you, or impress you anymore. Good to know how wrong I was.
I don't know that I have what it takes to be a true New Yorker; I'm far too sentimental. I do envy them though, they're tough. It's a humbling place that makes LA look like an elementary school play. It's pushy and angled and harsh and smelly and bustling and smart-assed and hypocritical and snobby and packed yet accepting of you, no matter what you want to be. Unless you want to be a little bitch and walk slowly.
Obviously, I loved it. I'm already looking at plane tickets to return.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
INDCP
I think about my Grandma all the time.
It's really incredibly strange to think I haven't seen her in 16 years because she is as clear as can be in my head. I remember her skin and her hair, the texture of both. I remember what holding her hand felt like. I remember she smelled like Oil of Olay and Lancôme Tresor. I remember her facial expressions and her smile and her laugh. Man, she got mad at me a lot when I was a teenager!
It's weird that when I think of her, little specific moments come to my head. Her in her white shorts. Her sitting at the kitchen table writing in her journal. Mostly, I remember her standing against the front wall of Menard's waiting to pick me up from work one day. That always sticks out and I can't figure out why. Maybe because it was one of the last times I saw her.
She was so petite and proper and the best caretaker in the world. I think of her all the time now when I get into bed with dirty feet or talk too much on the phone or do anything in general that she disliked.
A few days ago, I stood in a window with a mirror and tweezers to pluck at my face and I stopped in my tracks because I remember her doing exactly the same thing. I was even holding them at exactly the same angles that she used to. Sometimes I wonder if that means I'm programmed just like her. She hadn't had children by my age either. Maybe that's why I don't. Maybe I'll follow her exactly and I'll be a good caretaker and I'll be calm in my old age and I'll think of everyone else before myself. I'll worry too much and I'll obsess about my hair and clean sheets. I'll constantly play cards, make really good chili and tell my grand kids I love them and they need to slow down more.
Sounds about right. I hope.
It's really incredibly strange to think I haven't seen her in 16 years because she is as clear as can be in my head. I remember her skin and her hair, the texture of both. I remember what holding her hand felt like. I remember she smelled like Oil of Olay and Lancôme Tresor. I remember her facial expressions and her smile and her laugh. Man, she got mad at me a lot when I was a teenager!
It's weird that when I think of her, little specific moments come to my head. Her in her white shorts. Her sitting at the kitchen table writing in her journal. Mostly, I remember her standing against the front wall of Menard's waiting to pick me up from work one day. That always sticks out and I can't figure out why. Maybe because it was one of the last times I saw her.
She was so petite and proper and the best caretaker in the world. I think of her all the time now when I get into bed with dirty feet or talk too much on the phone or do anything in general that she disliked.
A few days ago, I stood in a window with a mirror and tweezers to pluck at my face and I stopped in my tracks because I remember her doing exactly the same thing. I was even holding them at exactly the same angles that she used to. Sometimes I wonder if that means I'm programmed just like her. She hadn't had children by my age either. Maybe that's why I don't. Maybe I'll follow her exactly and I'll be a good caretaker and I'll be calm in my old age and I'll think of everyone else before myself. I'll worry too much and I'll obsess about my hair and clean sheets. I'll constantly play cards, make really good chili and tell my grand kids I love them and they need to slow down more.
Sounds about right. I hope.
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