I received my warning email from Kaplan - I'm back on the blogging train. For a number of reasons. Here goes:
1.) Perhaps most exciting is that I just added the internet to my phone. Yes I know I am 25 years behind in this, but it now means I can blog on the go. Now that I live in Queens and get cell phone service on the subway. Holla!
2.) Thanksgiving was busy. I flew home, spent a few days in Boca where I caught up with the must-sees - Jesse, Lucy, Sister, Parents, Gilad - then drove up to Tampa where I met GC's mom (and dad) and finally saw all the things I've heard so much about including Saddlebrook, Tampa Lanes, Del Mabrey, Rich & Kristy's dachsunds and Max's House. It was amazing and relaxing and I loved it. Can't wait to go back for Christmas!
3.) Work has been insane! But going well.
4.) I'm going to see the Wu-Tang Clan in January. Die of excitement!
5.) Project Runway is back! I heart Christian! He's the funniest because he's so damn high on himself. But he can back it up. I also love Jack, Kit and Rami. So far, it's been an AWESOME start to my favorite show. And this year, I am SO getting myself to the finale under the tents in Bryant Park! I am always out of town, but this year, it's happening.
6.) I'm addicted to Scrabulous on Facebook. Please challenge me in a game if you are bored! Or love it too.
7.) I love living by myself. I just have to get plugging in terms of decorating. So many ideas, so little time. So little money.
8.) I want a kitten. But don't think I'm home enough. Still thinking about it.
9.) Doing New Year's in New York and GC is having a major party. E-vite coming soon but mark your calendars!
I think that is all for now. I am so behind on posting pictures and what not, will get that done when I can.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Pick Pickler!
I loved Kellie Pickler on American Idol and I'm so glad she is doing well in country music. She's too cute and her voice is amazing. I thought her performance last night at the CMA's was amazing...and showcased a side of her we haven't really seen. I think she's going to make a good country music artist. Poor thing - she hasn't had it easy but she's doing good for herself.
Saturday, November 03, 2007
Something Not to Do on Halloween
So...on Halloween I made what just may be the cardinal sin of complimenting someone on their costume. And that is - make sure they are in a costume.
I was out with GC, his roommate and a bunch of her friends. Those friends were then joined by other friends.
One of those boys sat down at our table and I stared at him for a few moments taking in what I saw. Long hair, swept across the forehead to one side. Polo shirt. Khakis. And then it hit me, and I said, "OHHH! Are you Zac Efron???"
He looked at me blankly and then replied, not so nicely, "Ummmm....nooo. I'm just me." As in "Um, no" period. "I'm just me." Period.
I turned away in horror as GC's roommate and her friend began to literally crow with laughter. And I felt HORRIBLE. I was so embarrassed. But only for a few minutes because I looked again and if this guy was indeed trying to be "just himself," then he was doing an awfully good job of also looking "just like Zac Efron."
See photo evidence here on why I am RIGHT.
I was out with GC, his roommate and a bunch of her friends. Those friends were then joined by other friends.
One of those boys sat down at our table and I stared at him for a few moments taking in what I saw. Long hair, swept across the forehead to one side. Polo shirt. Khakis. And then it hit me, and I said, "OHHH! Are you Zac Efron???"
He looked at me blankly and then replied, not so nicely, "Ummmm....nooo. I'm just me." As in "Um, no" period. "I'm just me." Period.
I turned away in horror as GC's roommate and her friend began to literally crow with laughter. And I felt HORRIBLE. I was so embarrassed. But only for a few minutes because I looked again and if this guy was indeed trying to be "just himself," then he was doing an awfully good job of also looking "just like Zac Efron."
See photo evidence here on why I am RIGHT.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
For all my Lexapro peeps! Or those thinking about it.
Once again, O, the Oprah Magazine, is here to help.
I saw the following article which can help everyone prone to a freakout every day. What I wish the author did a little bit better is go into chronic anxiety - imagine what the author describes as a snafu or a fubar, but every day, over every little thing - this is how I felt before I finally took control and got on a pill.
It's not something I hope to take forever - but during this crazy time that seems to be called "My Twenties" it is helping me slow down and figure things out in a normal, healthy way. Freaking out to the point of tears, not sleeping, waking up groggy and nervous and constantly trying to calm and talk myself down - was not working and taking a toll on my quality of life. So I encourage you to read this article and take its advice, but if you find yourself constantly working to maintain some level of sanity, make an appointment with your doctor to explore your options.
(Oprah.com) -- The military has given the English language two words that brilliantly articulate different types of crises: The first is snafu, an acronym for "situation normal, all f***ed up." The second is fubar, which stands for "f***ed up beyond all recognition." As we travel the bumpy road of life, we must prepare to deal with both.
Fubar situations are huge disasters, the kind that come with an implicit "get out of normal obligations free" card and often require a rethinking of where your future is headed.
Smaller snafu crises -- the broken toe, the stolen wallet, the babysitter quitting on short notice -- can be incredibly disruptive, but usually they're not life changing; they're more likely month changing or 10-weeks-of-Vicodin disruptive.
But a short-term crisis is still a crisis, so here's how to weather your next snafu:
Go ahead and freak out
One fine day in 2006, a wild deer wandered into a Target store in West Des Moines. He skidded around like Bambi on ice for 20 minutes, until employees herded him through the automatic doors to freedom.
On surveillance videos, the deer is wearing an expression I've seen on many human faces during minor crises -- a look that says, "I feel fine, but what the ... ?"
I mention this because there's one way in which deer handle crises better than humans -- at least according to "Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma" author Peter Levine, Ph.D., who holds two doctorates, one in psychology, one in medical and biological physics. Early in his research, Levine noticed that when animals are traumatized -- even a little bit -- they react by trembling, running, kicking, and thrashing around, which is what that deer did.
Meanwhile, human Target shoppers reacted with stiffness and consternation, because we generally try to subdue physical "emergency" reactions.
After falling down stairs or arguing with a co-worker, we make every effort to keep our eyes, voices, and hands steady, determined to show through our physical motionlessness that we're in complete control of our bodies, moods, and lives (no matter how many Xanax this requires).
Levine noted that people who have physical emergency reactions often cope better with crisis, and show fewer symptoms of trauma afterward, than people who hold still. Stress compels action; in snafu situations, Mother Nature gives just one instruction to all her children, and that instruction is, "Move!"
When the unexpected strikes, find a private space and let your body do whatever it wants. Heave, kick, shake your head like a wet cat. Then let that energy flow into constructive action, whether it's contesting a credit card charge, yanking cactus spines out of your child, or slapping duct tape on a broken pipe.
I got a chance to test this advice when one of my car tires blew out. After regaining control of the fishtailing vehicle, then coaxing it over to the freeway shoulder, I went a little crazy, shuddering and shouting incoherently for about 10 seconds.
Sure enough, this seemed to open up a channel to calm. Feeling very alert, I got out and changed that tire with my own profoundly nonmechanical hands. I drove away feeling so empowered, so conscious of life's fragility, that even the disruption of my schedule hardly bothered me. I do believe letting myself have those initial 10 seconds of physical freak-out cleared my mind and body for positive action. Thank you, Dr. Levine.
Release your expectations
Not all problems are this quickly resolved. My flat tire rearranged my day, but you may have a disaster that lingers for weeks or months, such as your brother-in-law. The situation, whatever or whoever it is, will eventually be resolved, but in the meantime it requires accommodation.
Realizing this is like being turned upside down. We hear our plans falling out of our pockets and smashing into countless questions: "How will I meet my deadline?" "Who'll walk the dogs?" "Can I even tie my shoes with this cast on my arm?" Our knee-jerk reaction is often defiant refusal to let go of expectations: Somehow, we insist, we will stick to our schedule.
I've heard you can trap a monkey by putting a banana in a jar, then punching a hole in the lid just wide enough for the animal's hand -- not wide enough, that is, for the hand plus a banana. The monkey's refusal to release the banana is what keeps it stuck.
This is what happens when we hang on to expectations in the face of crisis, and it can turn a snafu into an utterly fubar situation. Working when you're sick, you end up in the hospital. Rushing tasks after a slowdown, you drop or break or miscalculate something crucial. Pushing yourself beyond emotional limits, you lash out and damage a relationship.
Conversely, learning to let go of expectations is a ticket to peace. It allows us to ride over every crisis -- small or large, brother-in-law or end-of-quarter office lockdown -- like a beach ball on water. The next time a problem arises in your life, take a deep breath, let out a sigh, and replace the thought Oh no! with the thought Okay. If it's hard to sustain this perspective, go immediately to step 3.
Narrow your time aperture
It took me decades to learn how to surrender expectations. I wanted to let go; I just didn't know the procedure. Then a meditation teacher put it in terms I could understand. Imagine, he said, that your life is going badly -- you're underpaid, and you've just discovered that your spouse has started smoking. You go for a walk in the woods, trying to clear your head. Anxiety eats at you: Should you demand a raise? What if your spouse gets lung cancer? Troubling scenarios spin out in your mind. You can't stop worrying.
span style="font-weight:bold;">Then you walk around a rock, and there it is: a bear.
At that moment, it becomes almost magically easy to stop obsessing about your lousy job and your spouse's lungs. You have no trouble surrendering your worries -- in fact, as you sprint back to the safety of your SUV, you let go of verbal thought altogether. You've attained the enviable clarity meditators call one-pointed attention.
This is how you let go of expectations: by giving full attention to the snafu at hand. Forget about finishing your errands and focus on holding this bandage to this cut, right here, right now, until the bleeding stops. Do what is needed with full concentration: Find the spare tire, turn off the water valve, call your therapist. Be here now, and you'll realize there's nowhere else you ever need to be.
Make loosey-goosey plans
As you focus on the present, you'll find the next step arises almost automatically, and then the one after that. Your thought as you run from the bear is to reach the car. Your aim as you press on a wound is to stop the bleeding. Unlike plans made in calmer circumstances, which may be detailed, researched, and rigid, the ones you make when facing snafus should be so loose that they're almost floppy.
One year, when I lived in Cambridge, Massachusetts, I decided to run the Boston marathon. On a snowy afternoon, I took a bus to Wellesley, which lies at the halfway point of the marathon route. The idea was to run home, both training and familiarizing myself with the terrain.
I overlooked only one thing: I have absolutely no sense of direction. After running for an hour, I noticed that Boston was not where I thought it was. After two hours, I was jogging past eerie, deserted factories. After three hours, my world was empty country roads in a pitch-dark blizzard.
Peter Levine would have been proud of the way I eventually freaked out, stomping, kicking, and, yes, using strong language. My tantrum freed me to release my expectations of knocking this off in a few hours and accept that I was well and truly lost. This allowed me to narrow my focus to the immediate situation, and I immediately formulated a plan: Retrace my route by following my own footprints.
It worked for a half hour, until the falling snow obscured my tracks. By then I could hear the rumbling of motors, so my approach changed: Follow the noise. This took me to a freeway, from which I could see a distant glow of city lights. I followed them to downtown Boston, where, switching strategies one last time, I caught the subway home. Staying loose and flexible not only got me through a snafu but proved I could run for six straight hours. After that the marathon was a cakewalk.
The plans that take us out of short-term crises almost always proceed like this. A strategy that works well one moment is useless the next. That's okay. Keep moving. Keep letting go of expectations. Keep your attention on the here and now, and keep adjusting.
And finally, refuse to contemplate the distant future until the snafu is over. Cancel lunch, obsess later about the social fallout. Look in the yellow pages under "flood repair" without wondering how much it will eventually cost to replace your carpet.
The difference between unthinkable disasters and short-term crises is that if you follow these instructions, life snaps back to being surprisingly normal surprisingly quickly. Think what that deer must have felt as he roamed the aisles of Target, wondering why the humans were forcing him toward a wall of glass and metal. Imagine his gratification when he finally triggered the door sensor.
That's the way a minor crisis ends. It's almost anticlimactic: You look up from the one step that has your full attention and realize you're out of the woods. Or, if you're a deer, back in the woods. Back, in any case, to the world you're used to, where snafus are typical and things occasionally get fubar, but where you feel in your DNA that things are exactly as they should be.
I saw the following article which can help everyone prone to a freakout every day. What I wish the author did a little bit better is go into chronic anxiety - imagine what the author describes as a snafu or a fubar, but every day, over every little thing - this is how I felt before I finally took control and got on a pill.
It's not something I hope to take forever - but during this crazy time that seems to be called "My Twenties" it is helping me slow down and figure things out in a normal, healthy way. Freaking out to the point of tears, not sleeping, waking up groggy and nervous and constantly trying to calm and talk myself down - was not working and taking a toll on my quality of life. So I encourage you to read this article and take its advice, but if you find yourself constantly working to maintain some level of sanity, make an appointment with your doctor to explore your options.
(Oprah.com) -- The military has given the English language two words that brilliantly articulate different types of crises: The first is snafu, an acronym for "situation normal, all f***ed up." The second is fubar, which stands for "f***ed up beyond all recognition." As we travel the bumpy road of life, we must prepare to deal with both.
Fubar situations are huge disasters, the kind that come with an implicit "get out of normal obligations free" card and often require a rethinking of where your future is headed.
Smaller snafu crises -- the broken toe, the stolen wallet, the babysitter quitting on short notice -- can be incredibly disruptive, but usually they're not life changing; they're more likely month changing or 10-weeks-of-Vicodin disruptive.
But a short-term crisis is still a crisis, so here's how to weather your next snafu:
Go ahead and freak out
One fine day in 2006, a wild deer wandered into a Target store in West Des Moines. He skidded around like Bambi on ice for 20 minutes, until employees herded him through the automatic doors to freedom.
On surveillance videos, the deer is wearing an expression I've seen on many human faces during minor crises -- a look that says, "I feel fine, but what the ... ?"
I mention this because there's one way in which deer handle crises better than humans -- at least according to "Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma" author Peter Levine, Ph.D., who holds two doctorates, one in psychology, one in medical and biological physics. Early in his research, Levine noticed that when animals are traumatized -- even a little bit -- they react by trembling, running, kicking, and thrashing around, which is what that deer did.
Meanwhile, human Target shoppers reacted with stiffness and consternation, because we generally try to subdue physical "emergency" reactions.
After falling down stairs or arguing with a co-worker, we make every effort to keep our eyes, voices, and hands steady, determined to show through our physical motionlessness that we're in complete control of our bodies, moods, and lives (no matter how many Xanax this requires).
Levine noted that people who have physical emergency reactions often cope better with crisis, and show fewer symptoms of trauma afterward, than people who hold still. Stress compels action; in snafu situations, Mother Nature gives just one instruction to all her children, and that instruction is, "Move!"
When the unexpected strikes, find a private space and let your body do whatever it wants. Heave, kick, shake your head like a wet cat. Then let that energy flow into constructive action, whether it's contesting a credit card charge, yanking cactus spines out of your child, or slapping duct tape on a broken pipe.
I got a chance to test this advice when one of my car tires blew out. After regaining control of the fishtailing vehicle, then coaxing it over to the freeway shoulder, I went a little crazy, shuddering and shouting incoherently for about 10 seconds.
Sure enough, this seemed to open up a channel to calm. Feeling very alert, I got out and changed that tire with my own profoundly nonmechanical hands. I drove away feeling so empowered, so conscious of life's fragility, that even the disruption of my schedule hardly bothered me. I do believe letting myself have those initial 10 seconds of physical freak-out cleared my mind and body for positive action. Thank you, Dr. Levine.
Release your expectations
Not all problems are this quickly resolved. My flat tire rearranged my day, but you may have a disaster that lingers for weeks or months, such as your brother-in-law. The situation, whatever or whoever it is, will eventually be resolved, but in the meantime it requires accommodation.
Realizing this is like being turned upside down. We hear our plans falling out of our pockets and smashing into countless questions: "How will I meet my deadline?" "Who'll walk the dogs?" "Can I even tie my shoes with this cast on my arm?" Our knee-jerk reaction is often defiant refusal to let go of expectations: Somehow, we insist, we will stick to our schedule.
I've heard you can trap a monkey by putting a banana in a jar, then punching a hole in the lid just wide enough for the animal's hand -- not wide enough, that is, for the hand plus a banana. The monkey's refusal to release the banana is what keeps it stuck.
This is what happens when we hang on to expectations in the face of crisis, and it can turn a snafu into an utterly fubar situation. Working when you're sick, you end up in the hospital. Rushing tasks after a slowdown, you drop or break or miscalculate something crucial. Pushing yourself beyond emotional limits, you lash out and damage a relationship.
Conversely, learning to let go of expectations is a ticket to peace. It allows us to ride over every crisis -- small or large, brother-in-law or end-of-quarter office lockdown -- like a beach ball on water. The next time a problem arises in your life, take a deep breath, let out a sigh, and replace the thought Oh no! with the thought Okay. If it's hard to sustain this perspective, go immediately to step 3.
Narrow your time aperture
It took me decades to learn how to surrender expectations. I wanted to let go; I just didn't know the procedure. Then a meditation teacher put it in terms I could understand. Imagine, he said, that your life is going badly -- you're underpaid, and you've just discovered that your spouse has started smoking. You go for a walk in the woods, trying to clear your head. Anxiety eats at you: Should you demand a raise? What if your spouse gets lung cancer? Troubling scenarios spin out in your mind. You can't stop worrying.
span style="font-weight:bold;">Then you walk around a rock, and there it is: a bear.
At that moment, it becomes almost magically easy to stop obsessing about your lousy job and your spouse's lungs. You have no trouble surrendering your worries -- in fact, as you sprint back to the safety of your SUV, you let go of verbal thought altogether. You've attained the enviable clarity meditators call one-pointed attention.
This is how you let go of expectations: by giving full attention to the snafu at hand. Forget about finishing your errands and focus on holding this bandage to this cut, right here, right now, until the bleeding stops. Do what is needed with full concentration: Find the spare tire, turn off the water valve, call your therapist. Be here now, and you'll realize there's nowhere else you ever need to be.
Make loosey-goosey plans
As you focus on the present, you'll find the next step arises almost automatically, and then the one after that. Your thought as you run from the bear is to reach the car. Your aim as you press on a wound is to stop the bleeding. Unlike plans made in calmer circumstances, which may be detailed, researched, and rigid, the ones you make when facing snafus should be so loose that they're almost floppy.
One year, when I lived in Cambridge, Massachusetts, I decided to run the Boston marathon. On a snowy afternoon, I took a bus to Wellesley, which lies at the halfway point of the marathon route. The idea was to run home, both training and familiarizing myself with the terrain.
I overlooked only one thing: I have absolutely no sense of direction. After running for an hour, I noticed that Boston was not where I thought it was. After two hours, I was jogging past eerie, deserted factories. After three hours, my world was empty country roads in a pitch-dark blizzard.
Peter Levine would have been proud of the way I eventually freaked out, stomping, kicking, and, yes, using strong language. My tantrum freed me to release my expectations of knocking this off in a few hours and accept that I was well and truly lost. This allowed me to narrow my focus to the immediate situation, and I immediately formulated a plan: Retrace my route by following my own footprints.
It worked for a half hour, until the falling snow obscured my tracks. By then I could hear the rumbling of motors, so my approach changed: Follow the noise. This took me to a freeway, from which I could see a distant glow of city lights. I followed them to downtown Boston, where, switching strategies one last time, I caught the subway home. Staying loose and flexible not only got me through a snafu but proved I could run for six straight hours. After that the marathon was a cakewalk.
The plans that take us out of short-term crises almost always proceed like this. A strategy that works well one moment is useless the next. That's okay. Keep moving. Keep letting go of expectations. Keep your attention on the here and now, and keep adjusting.
And finally, refuse to contemplate the distant future until the snafu is over. Cancel lunch, obsess later about the social fallout. Look in the yellow pages under "flood repair" without wondering how much it will eventually cost to replace your carpet.
The difference between unthinkable disasters and short-term crises is that if you follow these instructions, life snaps back to being surprisingly normal surprisingly quickly. Think what that deer must have felt as he roamed the aisles of Target, wondering why the humans were forcing him toward a wall of glass and metal. Imagine his gratification when he finally triggered the door sensor.
That's the way a minor crisis ends. It's almost anticlimactic: You look up from the one step that has your full attention and realize you're out of the woods. Or, if you're a deer, back in the woods. Back, in any case, to the world you're used to, where snafus are typical and things occasionally get fubar, but where you feel in your DNA that things are exactly as they should be.
Monday, October 15, 2007
California Dreamin'
So last Thursday I got word that I'd be traveling last minute to LA for business. It's been a good, long while since I traveled for business so I was pumped, in addition to the fact that this business travel actually was going to be fun. We had been planning for months to do an event at the LA Galaxy game and when all was said and done at the end of the day, I got my David Beckham sighting. Is there really any more to tell to this story? Probably not. i saw David Beckham in the flesh. So..yeah, that's really all I have to say about my trip to LA!
I'm also, sadly, still without DVR, tho cable is still very much up and running. The cable guy forgot to bring the converter and so I told him I'd bring it to exchange myself. I'm DYING to see the new shows, specifically the one on WE about the woman who talks to the dead. I need to check out that show. I'm all caught up on Heroes, so that's all good. I also think I'm going to like The Bionic Woman and I discovered John Edwards still shows Crossing Over on Lifetime. Right now, I'm all about sci-fi and cable news channels. Because I'm so cool!
But nothing proved how cool I was like last Thursday night, when finally, three years into my time in NYC, I finally, FINALLY! fell in the subway. And it was a good fall.
I was rushing down to my clients office to grab some things that I'd need for the LA business trip and inexplicably, I wore flip-flops to work even though it was clearly going to rain that day. Not only did I wear flips, but I chose a pair that I've seriously had since junior year of college - a red pair of Old Navy ones that I just can't throw away because they've defied the odds and lasted so long - they deserve to still walk the streets. But not in the rain, because the bottoms are completely smooth.
So I'm doing my best to get down there relatively quickly, carrying a big heavy bag of stuff from the office while simultaneously trying to stay somewhat dry. I started to go down the subway steps when I thought to myself, there is no tread on these sandals, and literally, not 1 second later, I feel my feet slide completely forward in front of me, and I'm going down.
The wierdest part was, I was really not embarrased. I was more annoyed than anything. The subway was flooded, so I fell in a puddle of god knows what water, at least three inches deep. I made a splash as I fell. My hair came out the pontytail, and some guy had to help me up. I got to the bottom of the stairs and realized what had happened. I felt my soaking wet butt and realized that I had finally broke the streak of non-falls. Hopefully it's the last, I'll make sure to bring out my trusty rainboots if I even see a cloud, but I have to admit, it felt kind of nice to finally get this one NYC must-do out of the way.
I'm also, sadly, still without DVR, tho cable is still very much up and running. The cable guy forgot to bring the converter and so I told him I'd bring it to exchange myself. I'm DYING to see the new shows, specifically the one on WE about the woman who talks to the dead. I need to check out that show. I'm all caught up on Heroes, so that's all good. I also think I'm going to like The Bionic Woman and I discovered John Edwards still shows Crossing Over on Lifetime. Right now, I'm all about sci-fi and cable news channels. Because I'm so cool!
But nothing proved how cool I was like last Thursday night, when finally, three years into my time in NYC, I finally, FINALLY! fell in the subway. And it was a good fall.
I was rushing down to my clients office to grab some things that I'd need for the LA business trip and inexplicably, I wore flip-flops to work even though it was clearly going to rain that day. Not only did I wear flips, but I chose a pair that I've seriously had since junior year of college - a red pair of Old Navy ones that I just can't throw away because they've defied the odds and lasted so long - they deserve to still walk the streets. But not in the rain, because the bottoms are completely smooth.
So I'm doing my best to get down there relatively quickly, carrying a big heavy bag of stuff from the office while simultaneously trying to stay somewhat dry. I started to go down the subway steps when I thought to myself, there is no tread on these sandals, and literally, not 1 second later, I feel my feet slide completely forward in front of me, and I'm going down.
The wierdest part was, I was really not embarrased. I was more annoyed than anything. The subway was flooded, so I fell in a puddle of god knows what water, at least three inches deep. I made a splash as I fell. My hair came out the pontytail, and some guy had to help me up. I got to the bottom of the stairs and realized what had happened. I felt my soaking wet butt and realized that I had finally broke the streak of non-falls. Hopefully it's the last, I'll make sure to bring out my trusty rainboots if I even see a cloud, but I have to admit, it felt kind of nice to finally get this one NYC must-do out of the way.
Monday, October 08, 2007
Gracias, Adj
The Gators may have lost on Saturday (sigh, and I talked a lot of smack before halftime, which all came back full force by the end of the evening) but I had a great heart-to-heart with one my dear friends here and it really made my weekend. And really, my week.
I've been thinking (probably too much)about the direction of life again and had it not been for GC last Friday night being his usual, rational, calming self, I would have probably come home, drank a bottle of wine on an empty stomach and sulked around the apartment, crying, or worse, wanting to cry but feeling bad that I wanted to.
But then Adrienne and I talked, and I realized, once again, that I'm not alone. That just become some people feel comfortable with this or that aspect of their life, that no one really feels totally complete. Not quite yet. And maybe, for most people, not quite ever - and that is more normal than people who do seem to have it all figured out. I finally realized - people who have it all figured out are the wierdos. And those weirdos...are probably lying anyways.
So with that my mind, and dove headfirst into this crazy week, confident that whatever is going to happen, will..and that I will just roll with the punches (yes, once again I had to remind myself to do this) and deal with it. Because I'm hardly alone.
oh yeahh...f* you wierdos! stop ruining it for the rest of us!
I've been thinking (probably too much)about the direction of life again and had it not been for GC last Friday night being his usual, rational, calming self, I would have probably come home, drank a bottle of wine on an empty stomach and sulked around the apartment, crying, or worse, wanting to cry but feeling bad that I wanted to.
But then Adrienne and I talked, and I realized, once again, that I'm not alone. That just become some people feel comfortable with this or that aspect of their life, that no one really feels totally complete. Not quite yet. And maybe, for most people, not quite ever - and that is more normal than people who do seem to have it all figured out. I finally realized - people who have it all figured out are the wierdos. And those weirdos...are probably lying anyways.
So with that my mind, and dove headfirst into this crazy week, confident that whatever is going to happen, will..and that I will just roll with the punches (yes, once again I had to remind myself to do this) and deal with it. Because I'm hardly alone.
oh yeahh...f* you wierdos! stop ruining it for the rest of us!
Monday, October 01, 2007
A Little Something to Get You Going
As we toil away at our less than six-figure (but not for long, hopefully, am I right millionaire-hood?) jobs this a.m., here's a little jumpstart for all the ladies out there:
http://money.cnn.com/galleries/2007/fortune/0709/gallery.women_mostpowerful.fortune/index.html
http://money.cnn.com/galleries/2007/fortune/0709/gallery.women_mostpowerful.fortune/index.html
Friday, September 28, 2007
RIP
It's a cruel and sad reminder, but always keep your eyes and ears open, report suspicious activity, and never, ever take your friends, family and loved ones for granted:
http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/chi-070928franklin,0,2335283,full.story?coll=chi_tab01_layout
http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/chi-070928franklin,0,2335283,full.story?coll=chi_tab01_layout
Success!
This morning, I went into the deli right by my work where I go ever day for my coffee, and the lady knew my order before I gave it. Which by the way, is "large coffee, milk and sugar."
Success!
Success!
Thursday, September 27, 2007
But Come Back Down to Earth
I know how lucky I am, see previous post, and I never want to take that for granted. I am beyond sad to read that family members of Nailah Franklin, believe she has been found, dead:
http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/09/27/missing.woman.ap/index.html
And here is another story that broke my heart: http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/09/27/sextape.search.ap/index.html
http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/09/27/missing.woman.ap/index.html
And here is another story that broke my heart: http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/09/27/sextape.search.ap/index.html
A Full-Circle Moment, If There Ever Was One
Like millions of other girls across the world, I hold Sarah Jessica Parker on a very, very high pedestal. I'll probably never be able to separate her from Carrie Bradshaw,and she will forever remain the most ideal New Yorker in my eyes, minus the dramz with Mr. Big because I would have never stuck with him for that long. But I digress.
I also feel a special connection to Carrie, not only because she lived the fictionalized version of the life I want to live in reality (read: successful writer about her own personal adventures, sick apartment, shoe closet to die for), but because I would be lying if I said my move to NYC was in no small way inspired by her. It's not the whole reason I moved, obviously, but I think any girl in their 20s who has moved to New York has done so with the character of Carrie Bradshaw firmly in mind.
On my very first time out to dinner in New York, at a restaurant called Turkish Kitchen, it was like my third day here, I saw her and Matthew Broderick eating out with another couple. To this day, I'm dying to know who the other couple was and how they got to eat with them and I was regulated to sneaking looks at their table by pretending to go to the bathroom. In any case, I was convinced it was an omen. Maybe it was.
Last night, GC and I decided to ride the train home together so we could work on our Tshirt company, we had our first business conference call (Thank you Gina C.!) and he took me around the corner to a movie set.
But not just any movie set. THE SEX AND THE CITY MOVIE SET!
And we stood there and watched Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha filming one of their infamous brunch scenes, where it was very clear Miranda was annoyed about something and speaking to Samantha about it, and Carrie was laughing..and GC was hugging me from behind and I had my own apartment to go home too and I swear to God if lightning had struck me dead right where I stood, I would have been OK with it.
It was all very girly, but all I could think of is that if 22-year old Lia could have zoomed into the future and seen this scene, she would have been very happy indeed.
I also feel a special connection to Carrie, not only because she lived the fictionalized version of the life I want to live in reality (read: successful writer about her own personal adventures, sick apartment, shoe closet to die for), but because I would be lying if I said my move to NYC was in no small way inspired by her. It's not the whole reason I moved, obviously, but I think any girl in their 20s who has moved to New York has done so with the character of Carrie Bradshaw firmly in mind.
On my very first time out to dinner in New York, at a restaurant called Turkish Kitchen, it was like my third day here, I saw her and Matthew Broderick eating out with another couple. To this day, I'm dying to know who the other couple was and how they got to eat with them and I was regulated to sneaking looks at their table by pretending to go to the bathroom. In any case, I was convinced it was an omen. Maybe it was.
Last night, GC and I decided to ride the train home together so we could work on our Tshirt company, we had our first business conference call (Thank you Gina C.!) and he took me around the corner to a movie set.
But not just any movie set. THE SEX AND THE CITY MOVIE SET!
And we stood there and watched Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha filming one of their infamous brunch scenes, where it was very clear Miranda was annoyed about something and speaking to Samantha about it, and Carrie was laughing..and GC was hugging me from behind and I had my own apartment to go home too and I swear to God if lightning had struck me dead right where I stood, I would have been OK with it.
It was all very girly, but all I could think of is that if 22-year old Lia could have zoomed into the future and seen this scene, she would have been very happy indeed.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Nailah Franklin
This story has really struck a chord with me. Perhaps it's because it's a girl around my age, working hard, making her money, having fun....just disappearing without a trace. The main suspect is a man she casually dated, suspected of making threatening phone calls to her, as of late. Her family is begging everyone to keep their eyes and ears open, and to pray for her. Please do so.
Attached, really small, is the most recent article from today's Chicago Tribune. You can look it up here, as well:http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/west/chi-franklin25sep25,0,5348874.story
Monday, September 24, 2007
Moved In...
So I moved into my new apartment this weekend, and despite some challenges and setbacks (no thanks to you New York City traffic police!), I am in, relatively drama-free. Relatively.
However, it was all worth it. Saturday night, post-move in, we were too exhausted to move, so we fell asleep around 2 a.m. which is pretty much when we finished.
But Sunday night, when the first guests had gone and I just couldn't organize/clean anymore, GC and I sat on the couch, ate dinner and a dessert made of ice cream and coffee liqueur and eventually fell asleep watching TV.
I couldn't have asked for anything better.
However, it was all worth it. Saturday night, post-move in, we were too exhausted to move, so we fell asleep around 2 a.m. which is pretty much when we finished.
But Sunday night, when the first guests had gone and I just couldn't organize/clean anymore, GC and I sat on the couch, ate dinner and a dessert made of ice cream and coffee liqueur and eventually fell asleep watching TV.
I couldn't have asked for anything better.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
I am Happy and Life is Good
It's been a little hectic post-family cruise trying to find the time to blog about it, because I've been gearing up for crossing another goal off my life's checklist - finding my own apartment and living alone.
I'm beyond excited to move to Astoria this weekend, with help from the best boyfriend in the world and one of my best friends in the world. It makes me feel good to know that I'm moving into my own space, being helped by two people who have shaped me so much. I know it sounds corny, but it jsut all seems to make sense.
In fact, life is making pretty good sense right now period!
So stay tuned for more, and more interesting stories from the cruise but probably next week when I have time to do it from my couch in my new living room bit**es!
I'm beyond excited to move to Astoria this weekend, with help from the best boyfriend in the world and one of my best friends in the world. It makes me feel good to know that I'm moving into my own space, being helped by two people who have shaped me so much. I know it sounds corny, but it jsut all seems to make sense.
In fact, life is making pretty good sense right now period!
So stay tuned for more, and more interesting stories from the cruise but probably next week when I have time to do it from my couch in my new living room bit**es!
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Yay!
I'm back from the family cruise, having, literally, slept my way around the Carribbean. I rose only to get to the bathroom, eat, see a show (even participating in one...I got hypnotized!) and socialize with my family. I was awake, tops, 9-10 hours a day for 7 days straight. It was glorious.
So I got back to NYC today determined to find an apartment and sure enough, I found the PERFECT! one today and I took it. I'm so BEYOND EXCITED. For the first time, I have my own place and it's awesome.
More to come, I'm getting back into the swing..but rest assured there are plenty of drunken stories of my family, dramz, me getting hypnotized into thinking I won 2.2 million dollars...and so on.
In addition, before I left I hugn out with Producer Laura, Hal Sparks, a member of Twisted Sister, and others at Caroline's comedy club. Quite surreal. Quite fun.
So I got back to NYC today determined to find an apartment and sure enough, I found the PERFECT! one today and I took it. I'm so BEYOND EXCITED. For the first time, I have my own place and it's awesome.
More to come, I'm getting back into the swing..but rest assured there are plenty of drunken stories of my family, dramz, me getting hypnotized into thinking I won 2.2 million dollars...and so on.
In addition, before I left I hugn out with Producer Laura, Hal Sparks, a member of Twisted Sister, and others at Caroline's comedy club. Quite surreal. Quite fun.
Sunday, September 09, 2007
Family Cruise - The Prequel
We haven't even gotten to the boat, the drinking and hilarity have already commenced.
I met my family in The Brew House of Newark Liberty International Airport where they were already at the bar, ordering round numero uno at 1 p.m. Chuckie, Al, Frankie, Dena, Aunt Shev and Bob wound up having two beers each before we got on the plane. Nancy had two glasses of wine. I had one beer. Tweety had a Diet Coke.
We get on the plane which only has 70 passengers and I immediately lay down across one whole aisle and fall asleep for the rest of the flight.
I awake upon descent to find Aunt Shev and Chuckie (for all those who don't know Shev is Chuckie's mom), speaking in pig latin to one another...from four rows away. The entire family is rip-roaring drunk, having commadeered the back of the plane to chug beers and do shots with one steward who found it all hilarious. He later gave me a dirty look for not being wasted. He slips Chuckie three mini-bottles for the road as we get off.
I should also mention that the sexagenerian crowd on the plane did not like us very much. Maybe it had to do with Chuckie yelling, "Everybody get your hands up!" as the plane began to point down and him and Al rode out the rest of the ride like they were on a roller coaster. He then yelled, "Yeah everybody, we're in Vegas!!!!" Our cruise leaves out of Ft. Lauderdale. No one besides 9 of us seemed to get the joke.
Following the plane ride of fun that I totally missed, we dropped everyone off at their hotels and places they were sleeping and I then made my parents high-tail it to Publix where I got the sub and potato salad I haven't been able to get my hands on for 9 months. I felt like a thirst that had lasted a thousand years had finally been quenched. Florida people will know what I'm talking about. All the rest of you need to learn.
Finally, we all end up talking around the kitchen table like we always do. My dad heads to bed, and then its me, my mom and tweety somehow on the topic of sex change operations. A friend of theirs from back in the day, who met his boyfriend when they were both cross-dressers, now wants a male to female sex change. Problem is the boyfriend had the operation a few years ago and wants him to remain the boy. Tweety and my mom were debating the getting the operation so late in life (the guy is 57), the health problems he'll probably have since he's sick anyways, etc. etc. when my mom says, "Yeah...plus, it must hurt to get your friggin' d*** cut off, too." I'm pretty sure, out of her innocent face, that's the quote to top for the rest of the trip.
I met my family in The Brew House of Newark Liberty International Airport where they were already at the bar, ordering round numero uno at 1 p.m. Chuckie, Al, Frankie, Dena, Aunt Shev and Bob wound up having two beers each before we got on the plane. Nancy had two glasses of wine. I had one beer. Tweety had a Diet Coke.
We get on the plane which only has 70 passengers and I immediately lay down across one whole aisle and fall asleep for the rest of the flight.
I awake upon descent to find Aunt Shev and Chuckie (for all those who don't know Shev is Chuckie's mom), speaking in pig latin to one another...from four rows away. The entire family is rip-roaring drunk, having commadeered the back of the plane to chug beers and do shots with one steward who found it all hilarious. He later gave me a dirty look for not being wasted. He slips Chuckie three mini-bottles for the road as we get off.
I should also mention that the sexagenerian crowd on the plane did not like us very much. Maybe it had to do with Chuckie yelling, "Everybody get your hands up!" as the plane began to point down and him and Al rode out the rest of the ride like they were on a roller coaster. He then yelled, "Yeah everybody, we're in Vegas!!!!" Our cruise leaves out of Ft. Lauderdale. No one besides 9 of us seemed to get the joke.
Following the plane ride of fun that I totally missed, we dropped everyone off at their hotels and places they were sleeping and I then made my parents high-tail it to Publix where I got the sub and potato salad I haven't been able to get my hands on for 9 months. I felt like a thirst that had lasted a thousand years had finally been quenched. Florida people will know what I'm talking about. All the rest of you need to learn.
Finally, we all end up talking around the kitchen table like we always do. My dad heads to bed, and then its me, my mom and tweety somehow on the topic of sex change operations. A friend of theirs from back in the day, who met his boyfriend when they were both cross-dressers, now wants a male to female sex change. Problem is the boyfriend had the operation a few years ago and wants him to remain the boy. Tweety and my mom were debating the getting the operation so late in life (the guy is 57), the health problems he'll probably have since he's sick anyways, etc. etc. when my mom says, "Yeah...plus, it must hurt to get your friggin' d*** cut off, too." I'm pretty sure, out of her innocent face, that's the quote to top for the rest of the trip.
Friday, September 07, 2007
Lot's O'Updates
All's been quiet on the LiaLand front because I have about 10 million different things going. But they are all mildly interesting, so here it goes.
1.) As previously reported, I'm on the hunt for new apartment. This may be the single most horrific undertaking a person can take on in New York City. Never will you meet as many shady, personality-devoid freaks in your life, as you will when you are dealing with NYC brokers. More on this to come, because the stories are so unbelievable, you'd think I was lying, except I've been taking pictures. Oh yes, I've been taking pictures. It also takes up a lot of time. Time I should be blogging with.
2.) I'm leaving tomorrow for the 2nd Annual Family Cruise. 16 family members. 10 rooms. 1 ship. 3 islands. Hilarity to ensue. 3,000 passengers who should be very familiar with us come vacation's end, one week from tomorrow. pictures will be posted.
3.) Tshirt company plan in full swing. GC and I are taking on the industry. and we're going to wrestle it to the ground, beat it senseless. kill it. bring it back to life. and kill it again.
4.) AG has bedbugs.
5.) I went a paltry 9-15 in my first week college football pool.
So that's the short version of life the last week or so. If I can, I'll blog from the cruise, where last year, I heard quotes like the following:
Dad: squealing like a small child: It should be illegal to have this much fun!
Mom (in response to a complaint from someone who didnt want to attend the muster drill): I bet on the Titanic they didn't want to do the muster drill either. Think about that.
1.) As previously reported, I'm on the hunt for new apartment. This may be the single most horrific undertaking a person can take on in New York City. Never will you meet as many shady, personality-devoid freaks in your life, as you will when you are dealing with NYC brokers. More on this to come, because the stories are so unbelievable, you'd think I was lying, except I've been taking pictures. Oh yes, I've been taking pictures. It also takes up a lot of time. Time I should be blogging with.
2.) I'm leaving tomorrow for the 2nd Annual Family Cruise. 16 family members. 10 rooms. 1 ship. 3 islands. Hilarity to ensue. 3,000 passengers who should be very familiar with us come vacation's end, one week from tomorrow. pictures will be posted.
3.) Tshirt company plan in full swing. GC and I are taking on the industry. and we're going to wrestle it to the ground, beat it senseless. kill it. bring it back to life. and kill it again.
4.) AG has bedbugs.
5.) I went a paltry 9-15 in my first week college football pool.
So that's the short version of life the last week or so. If I can, I'll blog from the cruise, where last year, I heard quotes like the following:
Dad: squealing like a small child: It should be illegal to have this much fun!
Mom (in response to a complaint from someone who didnt want to attend the muster drill): I bet on the Titanic they didn't want to do the muster drill either. Think about that.
Friday, August 31, 2007
New Britney...
So, we just listened to the new Britney song, "Gimme More," and the three of us here in the office agree...we LOVE it. I mean, I still hate her...but dammmit if that girl can't make some good-ass pop music!
Check out perez if you want to hear for yourself. We prefer the T.I. version!
Check out perez if you want to hear for yourself. We prefer the T.I. version!
Thursday, August 30, 2007
I Plan to Be Pretentious
This Saturday, GC and I have plans to attend the US Open. Giancarlo will be wearing a seersucker suit, as this is the only time of year he can do so. I play to coordinate in a similarly Hamptons-like outfit, all white...natch.
I know it's not much, but these are the types of plans that make me happy on a Thursday afternoon, when the weekend is oh so close.
I think smooches would be an appropriate sign-off. Smooches!
I know it's not much, but these are the types of plans that make me happy on a Thursday afternoon, when the weekend is oh so close.
I think smooches would be an appropriate sign-off. Smooches!
Friday, August 24, 2007
Cha-Cha-Changes!
So..just as I brought the blog back from dead, it turns out some major life changes happened at the same time.
The very long story made very short, is that I’ve come to the decision to try living alone! I think it’s the right time in my life (thank you Lexapro!) and I’m really excited. When I was looking at my first two apartments earlier this week, I was mentally decorating in my head and picking out color schemes – and I realized that I was truly having fun. So that’s how I know it’s okay. Plus, I come from a family of five, I’ve never lived with fewer than 2 other people, and most of the time it has been 3 others…it will be an interesting experiment for myself to come home to a place that is all my own.
So right now I’m looking all over NYC, but also Astoria and the nicer parts of Brooklyn. I’ll definitely get more space and bang for my buck out in the boroughs…which is awesome, but it will be sad to not be a true city girl. It’s so the Sex and the City episode, when Miranda moves to Brooklyn and Carrie is horrified. I totally get it now. The mystique/allure of living in the city is a hard one to pull away from. But then you view an apartment for $1,450 a month that’s 250 square feet and you come right back down to Earth.
Stay tuned – I’m going to start posting the photos of the NYC crapholes that rent for thousands of dollars every month! It’s crazy!
The very long story made very short, is that I’ve come to the decision to try living alone! I think it’s the right time in my life (thank you Lexapro!) and I’m really excited. When I was looking at my first two apartments earlier this week, I was mentally decorating in my head and picking out color schemes – and I realized that I was truly having fun. So that’s how I know it’s okay. Plus, I come from a family of five, I’ve never lived with fewer than 2 other people, and most of the time it has been 3 others…it will be an interesting experiment for myself to come home to a place that is all my own.
So right now I’m looking all over NYC, but also Astoria and the nicer parts of Brooklyn. I’ll definitely get more space and bang for my buck out in the boroughs…which is awesome, but it will be sad to not be a true city girl. It’s so the Sex and the City episode, when Miranda moves to Brooklyn and Carrie is horrified. I totally get it now. The mystique/allure of living in the city is a hard one to pull away from. But then you view an apartment for $1,450 a month that’s 250 square feet and you come right back down to Earth.
Stay tuned – I’m going to start posting the photos of the NYC crapholes that rent for thousands of dollars every month! It’s crazy!
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