More of the same from me. My bad for not writing a new post in months, yada yada, will do better in the future… Wish I could figure out a better schedule to make time to post, etc. etc.
So I’m putting in more work. Trying to be more consistent
In my last post that wasn’t about Grey’s Anatomy, waaaay back in January I think, I discussed what my goals were for this year. I didn’t look to see if those goals were for 2016 or age 31, but at this point, it’s not important.
- Chris graduate from grad school
- More travel around the East Coast and to the West Coast
- Make some healthy living changes that are sustainable
- Strengthen the relationships that are truly important to me
- Chris graduate from grad school
Chris is not going to graduate from grad school this Spring. In life, obstacles come in your way, and you handle them as best you can. Chris had a large obstacle this year. His father died. In less than a month after we found out he had health issues, he was gone.
I’m not going to go into too many details, but it was a devastating loss for the family. We are all still struggling to reach a new normal without him. Chris spent a lot of time in Chicago with his mother when it first happened, and we ultimately decided that withdrawing from classes this semester was wise. He will continue classes in the fall and will finish in December.
There is one more thing about this that I want to say. He became an organ, tissue, and eye donor. Because I work in organ & tissue donation, this was amazing news to hear. It’s not always an easy decision for a family to make, but I’m so happy it’s the decision my family made. Being a donor family adds a new layer to why I do what I do, and it would make it very difficult for me to change and do something else with my career.
- More travel around the East Coast and to the West Coast
In terms of travel, I still have more I want to do. I went to San Diego at the end of January with my best friend David, which was a really great trip. My luck being what it is, it was the coldest it’s been there in years when we went. When I got back, my co-workers were concerned because there was a storm there that made national weather news. I was confused because it only rained one day. Apparently what seemed like a normal rainstorm was the worst they’d had in years.
But I did get to the San Diego Zoo!
And travelling with David is always fun, I’m hoping we’ll get to do it again soon.
I also have taken quick trips around the East Coast, but unfortunately, nowhere new. Because of gigs that Chris has coming up, we’ll be back and forth to D.C. this summer, maybe we can expand that out… Maybe.
- Make some healthy living changes that are sustainable
I definitely have gone a long way down the path of accomplishing this! One of my co-workers was fussing at us about always complaining about our sedentary lifestyle without doing anything about it. When I tell this story in person, I say she was fat-shaming us, but jokes like that don’t translate well on the internet.
Anyway, several of us were feeling bad for ourselves when she yelled at us to improve our situations and stop complaining. I told her that I would love to go to yoga more regularly. Yoga is my preferred exercise, but the studio closest to my house is 10 min drive plus parking, or a 30 minute walk. So a 1 hour class is practically a 3 hour time investment once you calculate showers and clothes changes.
She called bullshit and told me I hadn’t really looked for a studio and I should do better.
I just re-read that sentence. You should know that’s the nice version of what she said. But I respond very well to brutal honesty. So I searched far and wide to find yoga studios. My goal was to find a studio with multiple locations. One location would be on the way home from work with late night classes I could attend after my shift. The other would be less than a 15 minute walk from my house.
“And then you’ll see, I’ve really been trying!” I told her.
“Yeah, we’ll see,” she replied.
A couple hours later (I was also working, after all), I found out… she was right. There was a yoga studio around the corner from my house, literally. I felt so stupid. Then I got over myself and immediately signed up for a class the next morning.
That was over a month ago, and I’m still going strong. I also found an online on-demand yoga thing for $9.95/month. cancelled that though because I never use it. But I went from exercising hardly ever to exercising 3-4 times a week.
Chris and I went to Chicago for a wedding a couple of weeks ago. I took my mat, and did yoga there too. I haven’t felt this good or slept this well in a while. And in my defense, the studio is only about 9-10 months old. It really wasn’t there the last time I checked!
In addition to working out, I’ve started purchasing groceries more regularly, and cooking at home more. Aside from saving money, it’s healthier. I’m looking forward to seeing the added benefit of healthier food on top of increased exercise.
- Strengthen the relationships that are truly important to me
After doing damage to a very important relationship at the beginning of the year, I think we’ve just about recovered. My other relationships are going pretty well, but I could be doing more.
I don’t call my parents or mother-in-law nearly enough. I communicate with most people via text or instant messaging. And I’m at the point where I really hate talking on the phone. Maybe it’s because I do it all day for work. I’m hoping that’s the reason, and not because I’m becoming anti-social.
I can’t help it if I prefer my own company and I like being left alone most of the time. But I could certainly work hard to find a better balance to makes sure the people who matter to me are getting what they need out of the relationship. Being a better friend, daughter, etc. is important, and I will work harder to make it a bigger priority.
In the last week, I’ve gone out 4 times, and it should’ve been 6 if I hadn’t canceled at the last minute. For a person who’s kind of a homebody, it’s just so much!
I’ve been having a good time though, and if you follow me on Instagram, you know I’ve been to some cool spots.
Like I said, the world keeps turning, and against a backdrop of France trying to whoops ass at all the ISIS targets the apparently already knew about, bombings in Nigeria, and America fucking up by deciding not to let in refugees, I’ve still been living my life.
I don’t know how people who are so committed to these causes go through their days. Do they feel bad if they take time to go to a birthday party? Do they stop on Thursdays for TGIT? Do they every re-tweet a funny cat video?
I don’t know. Y’all know I’m struggling with feeling like I should be doing something more, saying something more. How do other personal bloggers just ignore this in their posts and only talk about their fun new recipe for peppermint pumpkin spice chai mocha martinis or whatever?
Talking about this stuff starts to give me existential angst, so I’m going to move on.
My week of not-staying-in-the-house-ness has resulted in two things that I know must frustrate Chris.
I think he’s taken the if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em approach. On top of the unpacked travel bags is his saxophone case. I bug him constantly about not leaving it right by the front door, but clearly I’m not saying anything about it this week.
He’s going to New Orleans this weekend for his friend’s birthday, and him travelling is usually my cue to get the house together. Something about returning home to a wonderful clean house, I don’t know, ask my mother for the details of why that’s a great way to treat your husband. She’s been married for over 35 years, so I’m listening to her advice on this one.
But what have I been up to if not staying home and organizing my house? And what about those two days I didn’t go out? Well, I’m glad you asked.
Last Thursday was a music showcase by the bae of one of my favorite co-workers. It was at Manhattan Brew & Vine, which I’ve been trying to make my way to since it opened. I’m so mad I didn’t go. Everyone says it was so much fun, and the music was great. They went to Corner Social after to hang, which is always a good late night spot if you don’t care about not hearing anything except the music. So basically… double fail on my part.
Friday is when I was supposed to meet my friends who were visiting NYC in Times Square. Y’all already know how that turned out. We were supposed to go to this bar in Times Square I love called Havana Central. Instead they went to this hookah bar one of their Cali people recommended. I wish I could remember the name of it because I would put it on blast for their weak drinks.
Saturday was great though. My girl Sara came out with me to take these girls to Liberty Theater, and my promoter friend Jay Jay hooked us up. I love the look of this place because it really used to be a theater, so it still has the stage, tiered floor, and box seats. I don’t really do clubs like this very often, but I had a blast. We danced and drank and had a really good time. There are a ton of videos and photos because millennials. I think I can find a couple to show you. I wish I had one of Sara getting proposed too. That was a fun laugh when some random man decided he was in love with her and literally tried to give her a ring.
Sunday night I was at Smoke Jazz & Supper Club. Our friends Willerm, Henry, and like 2 other people, were celebrating their birthdays. Willerm’s band was playing (including Chris), and he wanted a soul train line in the club after the set. He requested my presence there, so I took a nap after brunch-turned dinner.
About this brunch-turned-dinner. My friends who I took to Liberty Theater were supposed to meet us for brunch by our house in Brooklyn. By the time they woke up, got ready, checked out of their hotel, decided against the subway, took a Lyft, got through traffic, it was 4 hours and one restaurant later. That’s all I’ll say on that topic.
The gig Sunday night at Smoke was amazing, and these guys always sound good together. Chris was the “DJ,” playing songs on his iPhone through the speaker. We had the soul train line, including some confused but thoroughly entertained tourists, and all was right in the world. Then I took my butt home and got exactly 1 hour of sleep before getting up for work.
Monday night, I stayed my sleepy self at home after work. My best friend David and I watch a lot of TV together even though he lives in St. Louis. We are on the phone watching the same episode at the same time. It’s a great way to spend time together because we both watch so much TV.
I was also trying to help with suggestions of what his family could do when they visit New York the Saturday after Thanksgiving. They’ll all be nearby visiting one of his sisters who just moved, so they’re coming in to the city for a day. I’m mostly excited for his dad, who’s never been here. Should be a good time next week.
This post is getting long, So I’m gonna stop here. I’ll post Part 2 tomorrow.
I thought I’d have a funny story to tell for my first consistent blog post in months. My girl is in town with her cousin for her birthday. They’d never been to New York before, so she wanted to visit.
I know her through some degrees of separation. My best friend joined a fraternity in college. Her husband is one of his line brothers. The first time we all hung out is when he brought a very pregnant her to their fraternity’s annual party called The Champagne Sip (don’t worry she didn’t drink).
We did have a laugh-filled night at The Waffle House though after the party. And they cemented themselves as the favorite couple I’d met through my best friend. Over the years, we’ve had some good times though we don’t see each other nearly often enough.
This couple now has three children, all of whom call my best friend godfather. There have been many gift-help-picking-out moments over the years, which always result in something fun & educational… and maybe noisy.
But I didn’t see my girl last night. She arrived to her hotel in Times Square yesterday and we planned to meet for drinks at my favorite bar in Times Square, Havana Central.
But then I started hearing about everything happening in Paris, every terrible detail as it arrived in a push notification to my phone from CNN.
I said a prayer for the people of Paris, and decided I wasn’t going out.
Since Chris and I moved to New York, I’ve been more aware of what it means when a major city gets attacked,
I know Chicago is a major city, so is L.A., and a few others. But when I worry about American cities, my first two thoughts go to D.C. and NYC.
Whenever there is a concern for the safety of major cities, my first thought is to stay in/immediately head to Brooklyn. Manhattan is where I spend a bunch of my time, but I live in Brooklyn.
I don’t know if I was overreacting, I just know that I live in New York now.
The world kept turning, people kept coming together in Paris to deal with a tragedy, and I went home last night.
At the time I’m posting this, ISIS has claimed responsibilities for the attacks in Paris last night, Belgium has already begun to make arrests, and Paris is still treating the over 300 people who got injured.
It’s hard to wrap my head around what’s happened, to just continue with a normal day knowing that so much has changed for so many people.
But I’m going to try because that’s what we do, right? We say a prayer, put something supportive on social media, donate some money to a fund, then… keep it moving.
It never seems like enough, but I don’t know what else to do. There’s power in prayer, I do know that.
I’m going to go see my friend today. In Times Square. They say it’s safe. I hope they’re right. I’m definitely going to pray some more before I go.
I haven’t posted in a very long time. It’s because I’ve been busy. There’s just so much happening in my life right now, most of it fantastic, that it’s hard to find the time to get to a computer, organize my thoughts, make them somewhat readable, and get them posted.
Let’s just take it one post at a time as see if I can manage to turn myself back into something of a blogger.
So here’s what I’ve been up to.
I work a lot now, like all the time. I basically have every other Sunday off. but it works out because it’s for a good reason. With the work, plus tuition reimbursement at my job, I’m hoping I can pay for grad school outright and now have to take out any additional loans. The loans from med school are killing me.
The other thing that’s taken up a lot of my time is planning. The husband and I have a plan. It’s a three-ish year plan and it goes a little something like this:
2015-I start grad school, he does a live recording for his second album, we start saving like we’re serious. 2016-he finishes grad school, we put out his second album. 2017- not much happens except more saving, some investing, and more school for me. 2018- I finish grad school, hopefully move up in management, we buy a home.
These are big plans that require a lot of things to go right, but it’s a great plan. If we get all of this done, we’ll have pretty much everything we thought we’d want for ourselves by age 35.
You may notice I didn’t mention children. I’ll put it this way, neither of us have said we’re ready or interested in having kids now. If we change our minds, they’ll fit their way into the plan. If not, well… we’re not not trying, so we’ll see.
In the mean time, we’ve been dealing with birthdays, turning 30 and all that. When the husband and I turned 30 last year, things went well and our people did good for us. So we want to make sure we do the same. I’m not saying any more than that for now.
In my free time, I’ve been hanging out in Harlem, which is crazy because I do not love Harlem. But a friend of mine invited me out to this poetry set (which I also do not love), and I’ve been hooked ever since.
I’m all for cultural integration and all of that, but I have to admit, it’s nice to go to Harlem and spend time somewhere where it’s almost nothing but people who look, talk, and act like me. The fact that it’s erotic poetry almost makes it more bearable. Sometimes, I even imagine contributing, but I just can’t do poetry. It’s so not my thing anymore. Maybe a short story? Eh, we’ll see. I’m not the type to seek out spousal approval, but I feel like this might need to go through the proper channels first.
Other than the poetry set, I’ll have dinner or grab a drink or go to see some live music with friends. For a while, I didn’t think I’d make any real friends here in New York. But I’m glad I was wrong. I’ve met some of the most amazing people, who are doing the most amazing things with their lives.
I’ve met musicians, of course, and they are killing. So many talented folks. I just need to have a scene for me in the movie they make about one of these people’s lives one day. Hopefully that scene will be me making dinner for the guys in the Groid Collective or the guys in SkipTone. Or one of our crazy house parties.
My other friends are all interesting too. There’s an actor, a lady who works for a law firm and manages a band at night, a lady who does framing professionally for galleries and museums and is an artist at night, a guy who works exclusively with craft microbrewery beer, a chef, and a couple of entrepreneurs. They’re work stories are just so fascinating. And don’t even get me started on their backgrounds like where their from, what they’re families are like, etc.
I have made it super official that I’m a New Yorker now. I finally went and got my driver’s license switched over. I love the picture, and it was less painless than I thought it would be. Life is a lot easier if you have a passport. The worst part was waiting for them to mail my ID to me. In Illinois, you just sit in a plastic chair for 15 minutes while they make it for you.
But this is not Illinois. Terrible, awful, worst-I’ve-ever-encountered customer service aside, there’s no place better than New York.
Okay, one post down, let’s see if I can manage to write anything else at all this month. Wish me luck!
I mentioned this bucket list about a year ago. My friends and I had grand plans to get all this cool stuff done before our 30th birthdays. Well, I’m happy to report I got most of it done. I did a post about the first things I did, but now I’m just going to do a round-up of everything.
That’s what happens when you miss 100+ days of blogging. You gotta summarize.
Just to remind you, my best friend and I made a list of different categories. Each of us then had to choose something within that category and attempt to complete it by our 30th birthdays (give or take as everyone didn’t have a full year to make it happen).
Let’s just say that out of the 10 or so people who liked the idea, not many people actually worked on crossing items off their list.
But a few of us really tried. My best friend did the most, she even completed her task of skydviving! Her mom, who is amazing, scheduled it and went with her.
This is what I came up with when we first settled on the idea. The left column holds the categories, and the right column are my chosen activities. Each thing I chose had to be approved by someone else doing the bucket list.
|“All the kids are doing it”||Watch one whole season of Bad Girls Club|
|Culinary Exploration||Find soy/tofu dish to love|
|Dating||Five unique dates with husband|
|Free Spirit||Table-top dance at bar|
|Friendships||Make 2 new NYC friendships|
|Hobby/Lessons||Horseback riding lessons|
|Thrill-Seeking Activity||Bungee Jumping|
|Unconventional Travel||Backpacking train ride to ME B&B|
I did make some changes over the year. Since I didn’t choose a wildcard, I decided to use my nose piercing to count as that one. It felt quite wild and spontaneous when I did it, plus it was something I ordinarily wouldn’t have done. I decided on a whim to get it done while a friend was visiting from out of town.
I also changed the hobby. I changed from horseback riding lessons to Wine School. Following along with the New York Times’s Eric Asimov and learning a lot about an existing passion (wine), made sense for a good replacement because I simply didn’t have the funds or time to pursue horseback riding right now.
That being said, here’s how I did on the updated categories:
|“All the kids are doing it”||Watch one whole season of Bad Girls Club||Binge watched all of Season 11. The girls were in Miami. I didn’t enjoy it. At least I confirmed for myself that I really don’t like that type of reality show. ANTM and DWTS, plus a smidge of Chopped and Iron Chef is all I need.|
|Culinary Exploration||Find soy/tofu dish to love||Tofu just wasn’t gonna happen. I really tried. But a great suggestion from an online friend led me to chocolate soy milk. I genuinely enjoyed it and it’s currently the only store bought chocolate milk I like to drink.|
|Dating||Five unique dates with husband||I had so many rules for this one, I was setup for failure! The date couldn’t include one of Chris’s gigs, couldn’t be a group date, and couldn’t happen at home. We only did one date that was outside of those three categories. Life gets busy and all that… Major Fail.|
|Free Spirit||Table-top dance at bar||This one I did. When some friends came to town to celebrate a med school graduation, I went out with them. We danced all night, and some of my dancing included a table top at a bar. Good times.|
|Friendships||Make 2 new NYC friendships||Done and done. I’ve made more than 2 friends. I think if I’m being honest, there are 3 total friendships I made that I would continue to pursue even if I (or they) moved away from NYC tomorrow. I had such a hard time making friends when I first moved here, so I’m glad this one worked out.|
|Hobby/Lessons||Wine School||I’m months behind, but I’ve done every month up until July. And I have all the bottle up until November, just waiting to try them. This counts as a win for me!|
|Physical Appearance||Tattoo||I got the tattoo. I watched the World Cup final, literally watching the second tick away. Probably the tiniest tattoo ever, but I love it so much!|
|Thrill-Seeking Activity||Bungee Jumping||Nope. Didn’t even schedule it. Still a punk. I need to get my life.|
|Unconventional Travel||Backpacking train ride to ME B&B||Nope. I even took off a weekend from work to make it happen. But travel costs, and pricing, and trying to find the perfect place on airbnb. Excuses, excuses.|
|Wildcard||Pierce Something Other Than your Ears||Yes sir! Because I kinda rolled this one in at the end, it counts! I got my nose pierced. It’s almost healed, and I’m currently shopping for a great nose ring.|
So I didn’t finish them all, but 7 out of 10 ain’t bad.
There’s good news here. My friend and I decided to extend the list until the end of the year. I don’t know that I’ll get to Maine, but I can at least try to finish the dates with Chris and maybe, maybe, think about possibly looking into the chance of seeking out a schedule for bungee jumping.
At that point, I’ll have 9 out of 10. Not all accomplished by my 30th birthday, but damn close.
We were also talking about doing this again next year. Fewer categories of course. We were just far too ambitious this time around.
We haven’t decided on the categories yet, but they will definitely have the same intention of pushing us outside of our comfort levels.
The only category we’ve decided on so far is “Creative Project”. That’s a working title for now. But the idea is to take something we like to do, and to commit to taking it to the next level creatively.
For me that would be continuing with the video posts. I’ve made more test videos, but I don’t like them enough to post them. I need to just get over myself and go with it. I don’t really have issues with avoiding attention or anything like that. But I do have some hesitancy when it comes to public attention, especially seeking out public attention. But I’m trying to get over that, and I think the video blogs will help.
I had some other ideas for other categories. I was thinking something like “Grown-Up Skill Building”. The idea of this category is to learn something that a fully functioning adult should know, but perhaps you don’t. For me, that might be learning to change my own oil or something. It’s not a very exciting category, so it probably won’t make the cut.
Another idea was to try on someone else’s hobby. I don’t have a title for that yet, but it would be something like picking an interesting friend, finding out their favorite hobby, and then trying it out with them or alone.
And one more is to focus on health/fitness. Really pushing ourselves into something fitness-related that’s outside our normal bounds. For me that might be like committing to do some sort of workout 5 days a week. For my friend, maybe training for a bike marathon maybe?
These are all just ideas. We have another month and a half to sort it out. But I’m loving this bucket list idea because it gives you focus for the year. Having specific fun-or-self-improving-or-meaningful goals gives you a sense of purpose. At least it feels that way to me.
Wish me luck on getting those dates planned an executed. Did I mention Chris is heading to Poland in two days? The life of a musician’s wife.
I know I’m extra late here, but due to being super busy and having such a difficult time even finding the recommended wine for Wine School, I didn’t even try the May wine until the middle of August.
And I took 100+ days off from blogging, but I’m finally posting this now.
Instead of going to all these different local wine shops (because who has time for that?), I just used Google shopping and finally found the exact bottle I wanted from a wine shop in California.
Eric Asimov chose some pretty hard to find wines. May came and went and I still couldn’t find the wine in New York, you know, cause I looked so hard. So I was back to the store in California.
Here’s the catch, the store doesn’t ship to New York State or Illinois. But luckily, my best friend lives in St. Louis, and they do ship to Missouri. I called him and begged him to let me send the wine to him. He agreed because he’s the best.
All he had to do was ship it to me once it arrived. By this time, it was mid-June. My friend who works for UPS gave me advice on the best way to get this bottle to New York from Missouri. It involves a bit of don’t ask, don’t tell of the is-this-alcohol-let’s-not-discuss-it variety. Suffice it to say, it didn’t go as planned.
Luckily, my friend came to visit NYC in August. He packed my wine in his suitcase and hand-delivered the bottles. Yes, I said bottles.
I went through all of this just to try this wine, but it makes for a good story I guess. The silver lining is that they also had June’s wine: Riesling, which is pictured above with the Sancerre. Don’t even get me started on how much I love Riesling, and how I’ve been moving toward drier Rieslings recently anyway, which is exactly the type chosen for Wine School.
Even better than the hand delivered wine was the fun weekend my best friend and I had while he was here. We took what had to be our 37th selfie, and I feel like I’m getting pretty good at taking them.
So how did I feel about Sancerre? Well… ever since I began my love affair with Bordeaux, I haven’t loved white wine nearly as much as I used to. But the wine wasn’t bad. it’s made from sauvignon blanc grapes, but apparently it’s different from sauvignon blanc wine.
We were encouraged to respond emotionally to the wine rather than “hyper-rational”, so that’s what I tried to do. In hindsight, I don’t remember loving the wine and I wasn’t fantasizing about what meals go great with it. But I liked it.
The taste of it reminded me of mud pies. Well, not mud pies exactly. Did you ever make a mud pie as a child? I did, but not out of mud. My “mud pies” were made from sand in the sandbox at the park near my childhood best friend’s apartment. I may or may not have taken a bite just to see how powerful my imagination was. My imagination was not powerful enough to make a sandy mud pie taste like anything but sandbox.
I did check a couple of times to see if there was sand in the bottom of my glass, like maybe some micro pieces of the cork got in somehow. Something about Sancerre reminded me of that time in my childhood.
I ended up drinking the Sancerre along with a pretty interesting meal. I had a friend over for a girl’s night in dinner. I made homemade shrimp alfredo with spinach fettuccine, roasted zucchini, roasted yellow squash, roasted asparagus, collard greens and roasted chicken. I love salads, but when it’s time to cook for a guest, no light meals. I refuse.
While I’m thinking about emotional responses to the wine, I remember feeling peppy. It wasn’t a long lingering bubble bath kind of wine. It was a 90s pop music sing-a-long kind of wine. On top of a flavorful meal, the wine combatted the feelings of wanting to curl into a sleepy little ball. We watched The First Wives Club while we ate, and I feel like Sancerre made me just a touch wittier with my talking during the movie commentary.
Overall, I didn’t love it enough to put the wine in the regular rotation. But I would probably jump at the opportunity to enjoy a wine flight at a bar or restaurant that included Sancerre.
Obviously, I’m super far behind, but I’ll try and catch up to November. Here are the upcoming wines.
It’s like he knew my birthday month is October and wanted to celebrate!
I’ve already tried June’s wine, I just have to post what I wrote about it. After that I have five more. Five new wine choices in just a few weeks is my goal. Wish me luck to actually find those selections though!
Yessir, you heard it here first. I finally got over my fascination with the imperfections with my teeth. After some fiddling on my phone and Microsoft Live Video Maker (or whatever it’s called), I have a video I’m ready to show the world.
It’s basically a one-take video with some random ass captions, but I like it. I think. I’m pretty sure it’s as good as is going to get.
I’m actually really excited for the opportunity to share this new hobby. I think it’s a great way to add some videos, which I’ve already said I was eager to do.
I reserve the right to immediately regret this and then do my best to scrub any evidence of this from the internet. Then I’ll go on back to Wine School with my tail between my legs, mournful for every trying to step outside of my bounds.
Hopefully, this is just the start of something beautiful. My best girlfriend and I have been discussing the 30th bucket birthday list (which I promise to update on how it went very very soon), and how inspiring it was. We decided to make another bucket list. This one will be for the entire year of 2015 and not tied to a specific age.
One category we are discussing is Creative Project. She’s thinking photography, and I’m thinking these vlogs will be it for me. We shall see.
I know you could just scroll to the bottom to see the video, but hopefully you read all this stream-of-consciousness stuff leading up to it.
I case you want to just see the videos I make on my channel, you can use this link: Cocktails with Chicago-Style Girl. Otherwise, I’ll embed the videos here and you can see them in the context of a blog post.
Thanks for reading! And now for the visual learners…
What do you think?
As soon as I wrote this post title, I started thinking, “what is home?” I thought that and other existentialist things that I won’t share because those thoughts make me sound even weirder than I normally do.
But seriously, When I think of home now, I think of three things:
1) Our apartment in a brownstone in Brooklyn
2) The soup kitchen I volunteer at in The West Village
3) The dining room table at my parents’ house
The fact that 2 of my 3 “homes” focuses around food may help explain why my weight is hovering around 15lb heavier than a healthy BMI.
Only a tiny bit of Chicago feels like home to me now. I’ve been talking about this trip a lot. A family portait (yuck, but also kind of cool), another wedding (blech, but also kind of cool), and Memorial Day with my family and Easy’s family (completely cool, only positive feelings towards that one–see Christmas 2013 in Gramercy Park) add up to a great weekend getaway. Throw in a thrice rescheduled dinner with one of my best friends and a double birthday dinner with my girls and you’ve got an action packed weekend.
So why am I not super excited for this trip?
Eh, a big part of me would just rather stay home. Which is New York City. I’m will always be a Chicago-style girl. Big city + Midwestern sensibilities – red state restrictions = me. But New York is home.
So this weekend, I’m not going home. I’m going to visit my friends and family. This make my blog’s name all the more appropriate. I’m not a Chicagoan anymore. I’m Chicago-style (Chicago-ish? Chicago-adjacent?).
Easy and I haven’t decided for certain if this NYC thing is permanent. Hell, four years ago, I couldn’t even imagine myself living here. Of course, I blame that on being only exposed to Midtown and Harlem. If I’d gone straight to Chelsea and the Village on my first trip here, I may have never left.
Back to this trip though. I’m packing in an awful lot. First up is a double birthday dinner for my girls. There will be 8 of us dining at Ruth’s Chris in Chicago. One of the birthday girls has never been and really really wants to go. So we’re making it happen. The birthday girls don’t know I’m coming in to town though, so I’m just showing up at dinner as a surprise, which is why this post is publishing almost 24 hours after being written.
Next up is a family portrait. My parents, my brother, Easy, some cousins, and my aunt and uncle are all cramming into one shot. I think it will be one of the few photos we have of members of both my mother’s and father’s sides of the family that’s not at a wedding or funeral. We’ve decided to wear combos of red, navy, and white. Should be fly.
Yup, I just said fly. I’m an 80s baby. Deal with it.
Then I have a dinner with one of my best friends. Seriously, like every time I go to Chicago, we’re unable to hook up. Between my short stays, he work schedule, family obligations, etc. we kept cancelling on each other. But not this time. We have reservations at Cantina Laredo, which is an amazing Latin restaurant in downtown Chicago. Check it out if you’re in the area, totally worth the valet/effort to find parking.
Then Easy and I hop in my mom’s car to drive to St. Louis for a wedding. These are friends from when he lived down there when we started dating. We were considering just staying in St. Louis, and the four of us were going to do this Honeymooners thing. That would’ve made a completely different life for us. The St. Louis version of Easy and myself were interesting people, different from who we are in New York.
Eh, no use wondering what if, right? The NYC versions of us rock, and we have better looking calves from all the walking anyway.
Then back to Chicago for Memorial Day where we will eat BBQ and left over birthday cake from our nieces/cousins. Two words. Atomic cake. Google it if you don’t know. Because you need to know.
I really cannot wait for the BBQ. Can someone explain to me why I have to travel to Williamsburg to get good BBQ? And for that matter, why do I have to travel to Harlem to get good soul food? And to Flatbush to get good jerk chicken? New York is such a melting pot, but they really fuck up food the entire rest of the country has mastered. Excuse my language, but I really feel pretty strongly about it.
And then after lots of good food, we get on a plane back to NYC. That will make 5 days, 4 nights in the Midwest. By Tuesday, I’m going to feel sooo ready to come home. So perhaps I’ll write another post called A Chicago-Style Girl Goes Home. But that one will talk about street food and easy taxi/subway options and volunteer opportunities and lack of allergy sufferers due to the lack of trees and wifi everywhere and people who don’t care if you accidentally step on their foot and a beautiful nighttime where outside of every window looks like Christmas will all the twinkling lights coming from every office window.
That run on sentence (so sorry!) just gave me clarity. NYC is like a new relationship right when you go from limerence to being fully in love. At that moment, their dirty drawers shouldn’t even bother you.
I think NYC’s dirty drawers count at the stinky homeless man who coughs up part of his lung on the subway and you just know he has tuberculosis. I am in love, but I’m not stupid. NYC’s dirty drawers bug the hell out of me. I don’t want TB. You can’t donate your organs and tissues if you’re contracting TB from a random stranger on a train.
That being said, hopefully my love is long-lasting. After all, it’s not blind-to-logic love. It’s just enamored, full-hearted love. A love that says Chicago can suck it. Because you’re #2 now.
Disclaimer: this only applies to the cities, not their sports teams. Bringing Phil Jackson to the Knicks is a step in the right direction, but really it just makes me think of the early 90s and his 3-peat with Jordan & Pippen. Da Bulls Da Bear Da Sox
God willing, I’m not going anywhere any time soon, so I don’t have a bucket list in the traditional sense. However, I am turning 30 this year, and when one of my best friends suggested we do a 30th Birthday Bucket List, I immediately loved the idea.
This was at the end of last summer, around August-ish. There are a number of folks we know who are turning 30 this year or who have already turned 30 this year. So we put together some fun categories that we could each pick something from to embrace and bid farewell to our 20s.
I won’t bore you with all the categories now– there are 10– but I will talk about them as I cross them off the list. Even though we set this up over 6 months ago, it’s been slow going for me to really start crossing things off.
I enjoyed my 20s tremendously, and I’m really looking forward to my 30th birthday. Even though I chose bucket list items that pushed my comfort zone, I still had to dig to find the motivation to just make it happen.
But enough about my 20-something hesitancy, let’s talk about what I’ve actually done (or rather, tried to do).
One of the categories is Culinary Exploration. This category came out of the idea that we all have some food item we were afraid to try. Your 20s is a time where you embrace new experiences and expand your horizons. It’s kind of hard to expand your horizons when there are things you won’t even try.
For me, culinary exploration only had one option: tofu/soy. I decided to find one tofu/soy item that I could truly enjoy and maybe even love.
I have tried tofu on many occasions, with several cuisines, in multiple countries. My mouth just no likey.
One or two (or five) had experiences with it, and I had given up. I lived in a world where soy sauce was the only soy product to cross my lips. I’ve never tried soy milk, I can barely swallow tofu of any kind.
I hated feeling defeated by food. I’ll eat pretty much anything. Except white sweet potatoes from Asia or the Caribbean. I just don’t like that grainy texture, yuck. I’m a texture person, and there’s no saving that awful veggie.
But tofu was a different story. People who eat it talk about its ability to take on whatever you want to give it. Grilling, frying, baking, etc. it supposedly has a lot of options.
In my experience tofu just always tasted like flavorless powdered scrambled eggs. No matter how they cooked it. But upon further review, I realized the majority of the way I’ve tried it is sautéed in Asian food.
Since tofu/soy ended up on my 30th Birthday Bucket list, I’ve tried. I ordered a tofu roti, which is a delicious dish from Trinidad at this amazing West Indian restaurant. I mentioned it in a previous post. I got the tofu on the side, and while I didn’t love it, I didn’t hate it, which is a huge step forward.
I’m thinking if I could get it cut into even tinier pieces, kind of like how I get Easy to eat tomatoes and onions, I could maybe make it work.
I’m not giving up on soy yet though. I think my next attempt is soy milk. Maybe I’ll love it and then I’ll be done with this bucket list item.
I’m not holding my breath, but I”m also not giving up.
You hear that soy? I’m not giving up.
At some point soon, I’ll talk about the second 30th Birthday Bucket List item I tackled, which is reality TV. I never watch reality TV that’s not a competition (i.e., American Idol and Dancing with the Stars), but I went there.
Three words. Bad. Girls. Club.
Back again. It’s so hard to post consistently when there is living to do, mood swings to pretend I’m not having, and recaps that feel so cumbersome to put together.
But here I am, back and better than ever.
What makes me better this time?
Well, instead of pressing reset and acting like the time that’s passed didn’t happen, I’m going to pickup where I left off.
I left off talking about helping one of my best friends put together his second-to-last best man speech.
And I was talking about Wine School for the New York Times.
And I was talking about trying to get back in shape, and not really having the motivation to do so. Apparently pre-paying for exercise classes isn’t a great motivator for me.
And I was talking about embracing this wonderful city I now call home. New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made of, there’s nothing you can’t do.
I’ve decided I’m going to also start talking more about the reason I’m here. I moved to New York City because of Easy, my jazz musician husband. There’s lot of stuff going on with that to talk about. And when they make a movie about his life and the lives of his contemporaries one day (it’s totally gonna happen), they’ll have some scene where I’m typing away on my blog as I’m cooking the guys dinner. The producers will have to include that scene as a condition of Easy’s participation in the movie. He just doesn’t know it yet, well now that he’s read that sentence, he knows. Hi Easy.
But until the movie gets made, this blog will document the mention-worthy crap that I know about his NYC jazz music world.
The first thing I want to talk about is the effort to get in shape.
I’m coming up on my 30th birthday soon. I have barely started on that bucket list some of my friends and I are doing that I keep promising to talk about. I should’ve put “get back to the size I was at college graduation” on the list.
What’s crazy is that around the time I graduated college, I felt like a fat ass. I weighed 125 lbs, which isn’t a lot at all. But when you’re only 5 feet tall and you have a tiny bone structure, it feels like a lot, especially when I floated around 100 pounds from age 13 to age 21.
But now I’m a good 15 pounds heavier than that. Which, again, I know is not a lot in terms of average adult weight. But all of my friends who weigh that much wear a size 2, 4, or 6. Because I am a ton of inches shorter than them, I’m wider and wear a size 8, pushing a 10 in some brands.
That shit is unacceptable.
If I lost 10 pounds, I’d lose an inch or so all around and immediately drop down a few sizes. I don’t ever want to reach a size 0 or 2 again because my fat girl boobs are kind of awesome (34C woot woot!), but I just want to reduce the jigglies.
My girls back in Chicago and I have a plan. We’re going to start keeping up with each other’s diet/exercise efforts. They all joined myfitnesspal and we’re going to keep each other motivated.
I think that having my girls trying to get healthy with me, along with the varied workout plan I’ve already paid for–and just have to start using– and the ease of online grocery shopping makes it pretty foolproof to stay on track.
At least, it certainly sounds foolproof.
I think there’s a saying, “it’s better to be thought of as a fool that to open your mouth and remove all doubt.”
I’m feeling at this moment that my blog is a doubt remover.
But perhaps it’ll be wrong.
Perhaps I’m not a fool…?
I just want to wear a bikini and feel proud of what I see in the mirror.
When I’m home, alone or with my husband, I don’t have a lot of body issues. Even being overweight, I’m pretty happy with how I look naked. I’m shaped well enough, and again, I’ve got my fat girl boobs going. It’s mainly how I look in clothes that is a concern for me
I feel pretty strongly about dressing for my body type. I’m all about structured clothing items and fabrics that float away from the body. But I miss the days when I could literally put on any piece of clothing and it worked as long as it wasn’t intended for someone who was 5’10”. I want that back.
I promise if I get that back, I will still dress age appropriately.
Except for crop tops.
I figure it will take me until my 30th birthday to get a completely flat tummy, and my almost-but-not-quite-old ass will be wearing crop tops and lots of them.
But other than that, completely age appropriate.
I’m just hoping that when I get into bed tonight I can turn my brain off so I can get enough sleep to wake up early Friday and start working out.
Stupid internet with it’s tickets-only-available-online stupidity. In my last post, I spoke of how I was excited to go to the next event for BBQ Films.The husband and I were going to get dressed up in our 1950s best (or the only outfit we have that would make a fair approximation), and go see Back to the Future next weekend.
But… all the tickets are sold out online. There isn’t anywhere to physically go pickup tickets. I hate that!
When our mothers came to town and we went to go see Motown the Musical, buying tickets online was frustrating (and expensive), so I just went to the box office and a real live human person helped me find the perfect seats.
This isn’t an option for BBQ Films, which is understandable as all of their events are funded by tickets sales and sponsors.But still, I had no recourse once I saw the tickets were sold out online.
A couple of Google searches later found the Twitter account for BBQ Films. They said they might have some tickets available on Thursday, but we’d have to join the mailing list and implied Twitter stalking would help.
So now I know what i’m doing Thursday.
All of my usual places to purchase alcohol online failed me. I just knew Binny’s Beverage Depot would have what I need. They always have what I need. But not this time.
I was starting to get discouraged. Comments on the Bordeaux NY Times article were starting, and I really felt some kind of way about the people commenting who drank substitute wines. I didn’t want to be a substitute wine drinker, but unless my wine guy called me back saying he found it, I was screwed.
Then it occurred to me, I hadn’t asked Google for help. Well, I had asked, but I was asking the wrong questions.
Googling online wine shops was how I went about it at first. When I got wise, I went straight to Google Shopping. They have this crazy index of pretty much everything available for sale online.
So I Googled each of the three wines listed in the article. Immediately, I was directed to a couple of different wine shops. Because I’m a nice lady, I’ll tell you where I found it.
Premier Wine & Spirits is a specialty shop with four different websites, and three brick & mortar locations in NY State. This is my first time ordering from them, so who knows if it will work?
I do shop online quite a bit though, and I’ve never had any issues getting alcohol delivered. I ordered a bottle of the Château Bernadotte Haut-Médoc 2009 last night, so I’ll let you know how long it takes to get here and what shape it’s in when it arrives.
I chose this bottle because it was the cheapest of the three, but they are getting over on shipping costs. The wine itself was only $34 including tax, but went up to $49.15 with standard shipping. Good thing I didn’t want it overnight, I would pay double for the wine.
I hope next month’s Wine School choices are more readily available.
Can I just say those people take identification seriously? Based on all the information I had to enter to prove I was me and to purchase the wine, I was feeling suspicious. But a check online on Webutation and a look to see if anyone identified the website with scams (they didn’t) made me feel pretty good. At least I’ll know the culprit if my identity is stolen over this. Knock on wood.
Easy and I agree that we will try the recipe for Skirt Steak with roasted whole plantains with the wine. I’m pretty excited about that.
I had a very indecisive 20 year old visiting this past weekend for her Spring Break. I wanted to show her NYC in all its beauty, but that proved difficult. She’s not a fan of art, sports, museums, history, eating when you’re not hungry, spending a bunch of money, theater, or overspending on shopping.
Unfortunately, that also meant no going to the Biennial exhibit at the Whitney. But hopefully one of my new maybe-friends in NYC will go with me.
She arrived in the middle of the week, so by the time Saturday rolled around, she was shopped out. Easy and I forced her to go with us to a Latin restaurant and to a jazz club, so I at least wanted to have her do something she’d be guaranteed to enjoy on her last day with us.
If you missed that list of things she was against (at age 20!), you know I had my work cut out for me.
Suffice it to say we spent hours at Central Park while she tried to figure out what she wanted to do. I could’ve offered up Chelsea Piers, but I really didn’t want to take her bowling. Then I thought about High Line, but we were already at a park, so heading to another one just seemed wrong.
Hopping on the internet for what do to in NYC ideas when you’ve ruled out food, drinks, arts, sports, history, theater, museums, and shopping is just painful.
We ended up on the Staten Island Ferry so she could get pictures of part of the skyline and the Statue of Liberty. While we were waiting on the ferry, she mentions that she’s going through ice cream withdrawal.
I remind her that I said, “this is New York City. Anything you want to do, try, eat, drink, whatever, it can be done here. Anything in the world, literally, anything. Just pick something, and we’ll go find the best version of it New York has to offer.”
I said that hours before she mentioned the ice cream.
But at least we had a goal. Searching online for great ice cream in New York is super focused and wonderfully easy. Between Google, Yelp, yellowpages.com, and Zagat, we found a lot of great ice cream options.
Because she waited 6 hours to finally decide on a New York adventure, most of the places were closing for the night. But seeking out great gelato, egg creams, frozen yogurt, and ice cream in New York at places only open after midnight is it’s own mini adventure.
We ended up going on a food truck search for Wafels and Dinges. They weren’t hard to find. The truck was parked in the West Village, so after that we got a slice at Joe’s Pizza and then popsicles at Popbar.
For an improptu food tour, it was quite successful. Wafels and Dinges has been voted some of the best food truck food in the country, and it was so delicious, I didn’t even care that I froze while eating ice cream outdoors.
I would have kicked myself had I let my girl leave town without trying a slice of classic NYC-style pizza. She eats super slow, but she finished her slice exactly as I finished mine. In the 20 years I’ve known her, I’ve never seen such a thing.
And the blood orange popSorbetto was so freaking delicious. I took it home and shared it with Easy because it was that cold outside that it didn’t melt in the 40 minutes it took us to get from the Village to Bed-Stuy. I am looking forward to trying the frozen hot chocolate some Saturday after the soup kitchen once it’s really warm outside.
All of that delicious food was made possible because of a simple online search and hopping from place to place based on what Google told me was nearby.
So sometimes online sucks. But I have to admit for every problem I encounter, the internet usually has a solution if I’m patient enough to reword my Google searches.
I was thinking about my previous adventure day about a month and a half ago. Since that time, I really haven’t done much besides work and volunteer.
Because I love my job and I love my volunteer work, I don’t feel like I’m living some sort of hopeless life or anything. But since I decided I was going to Wine School, it occurred to me I’ve been missing out on a lot.
I mean, come on, I live in NYC. There are always cool and interesting things happening here that just don’t happen in other places. There’s so much going on and it is sometimes overwhelming, but if you can narrow your focus, you can find a whole world of possibility even in that narrow subject area.
I want more activities to engage in. I love good food and good drink (but I can’t afford the expensive stuff). I love going to museums and exhibits. And I love movies and live music.
Just from those narrow (ish) interests of mine, I can find a lot to do. I’ve got the Amazon local vouchers for rock climbing and kickboxing, which I swear I’m going to use really soon. I swear.
I went to a couple of restaurants for NYC Restaurant Week, so I got to try some food I wouldn’t be able to afford otherwise.
And since finally paying attention to all the amazing things I can find to do in the New York Times, there are a few upcoming events I really want to check out.
I’m going to try to go see the Whitney Biennial this weekend at the Whitney Museum of American Art. There is this photograph exhibit by this transgender couple I really want to check out. And also, this place just looks so cool, right?
And then there’s this group called BBQ Films that do popup movie screenings. Popup movie screenings is something I didn’t even know was a thing before New York. That definitely counts as one of those NYC things I’ve been missing out on that aren’t even activity options in other places.
Their last event involved renting out a place in Williambsurg that was like Shredder’s lair and hiring skateboarders and showing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
Their next film showing is next weekend and they’re showing Back to the Future at a gymnasium in NoLIta setup like a fake prom. Check out their website for more information.
I think if I could pay more attention, I could probably find something fun like this to do every weekend. Especially now that Spring is about break for real. There will be more things like this every weekend. I’m still sad I missed the vegetarian food festival while I was in Chicago for that wedding, but no more!
I am deciding to fully embrace a narrow portion of what NYC has to offer.
He he. That sentence makes me laugh. But seriously, only a crazy person would try to embrace everything NYC has to offer. A crazy, rich, unemployed person who only needs to sleep 2 hours a night.
I fully accept that for now I’m leaving out sports, outdoors-y stuff, politics, boating, fashion, business, and education. So I’m leaving out a lot, but I’m hoping I’ll branch out organically as I dig more into the things I’m naturally interested in.
Now that I’m all set to get out of the winter doldrums, I’m finally going to embrace more of this city.
Oh, and one of the lovely people who I’ve met that I hope will become one of my NYC friends hit me up. She just got back in town from a vacation, so hopefully we’ll catch up and do drinks or lunch or something soon.
Someone remind me to take pictures so I’ll have visual aids to future blog posts.
I’m feeling ranty and bitchy and several other things right now. I need Spring. I neeed it. I must have it.
And because it is something that is natural and all that, I have no control over it. So I continue to wear my should’ve-been-Haz-Mat-ed by now scarf to combat the cold air. And I continue to sweat it out in my radiator-heated apartment because I don’t want the landlord to do what he’s been doing all winter and come over and turn down the heat just in time for it to get really cold outside again.
When I was in Chicago the first weekend of March for a wedding, I got sick with what may have been the flu. But it was totally worth it because I wouldn’t have missed this wedding for anything. This woman has been like a little sister to me for 7 years, and I was so pleased to attend her wedding. She made such a beautiful bride.
And because I’m a crazy person obsessed with organ and tissue donation, I didn’t go to the doctor even though I might’ve had the flu.
Because what if I tested positive for the flu, then accidentally got hit by a bus two days later? I wouldn’t be able to be a donor because of the confirmed flu. But if I was just sick, and the sickness was resolved, but never confirmed flu, because of my age and overall health, they probably would let me be a donor. I would make a great donor, should I not live to the age of 75. And now you all have a glimpse of just how deep my crazy goes.
Do you know why I got so sick? Because Chicago is even colder than New York right now. Today it finally felt a bit like spring, but it’s going away again. It’s supposed to snow on Thursday, then again on Monday. I just can’t.
My cousin is in town visiting, but she was sick too. I felt so badly that we didn’t do more while she was here, especially after the year she’s had. In fact, the day we flew here was the one year anniversary of the day she got her diagnosis of lymphoma.
It’s not lucky to get cancer, but she was lucky. Lymphoma usually has no outwards symptoms until it’s too late. But the lymph nodes in her jaw swelled up something horrible and they caught her cancer super early. She got chemo and knocked cancer on it’s ass.
Since that time, we have both agreed that breast cancer gets so much play and the leukemia and lymphoma cancer society needs better PR. And we agreed to she needed to step outside of her comfort zone and live more. So she got on a plane for the first time and flew with me and Easy from Chicago to NYC.
Considering that exactly 365 days ago, I was holding her hand while her doctor drilled a hole in her hip to extract bone marrow, we could’ve been doing literally anything and it would have improved the memories associated with that date. She leaves back to Chicago today, and I’m crossing my fingers that she keeps trying new experiences and embracing life.
In completely unrelated news, I finally read another romantic comedy-type novel recently. I’d been reading a lot of nonfiction lately, but a boring-as-hell book about Rastafarianism (which is a religion with a nothing-boring-about-it history) curbed that urge for a bit. I read a book recommended by a blog I love, Single Infertile Female. The book is Party Girl: A Modern Fairy Tale.
As a new New Yorker, this book had it all for me. I found myself wishing for two things: 1) the book had a happily-ever-after ending and not a realistic-for-the-millenials-who-are-craving-this-type-of-relatability ending and 2) that I had the main character’s ability to make friends. I’m not saying any more than that because I want you to go read this book for a fun 20-something-in-NYC read. I promise you’ll enjoy yourself.
While we’re on the topic, I feel the need to say, yet again, how unsuccessful I am at making new friends. Out of all the people I’ve met since I’ve moved to New York, I’ve managed to schedule four outings total, only three of which actually went somewhat according to plan. These people are funny, sweet, clever, good-looking, and genuinely nice folks. That’s everything I want in a friend. Maybe they’re just ALL not that into me.
Two of the outings were for Restaurant Week. I went to Delmonico’s Kitchen and Nobu. My mouth still waters in memory. I forgot to record anything at Delmonico’s, but I did get some amazing pictures of my good at Nobu.
The tiny bit of Spring weather I was given today has given me renewed interest. I think I’m gonna try one more time each with all the people I’ve met, then after that I’m moving on and trying to meet even more new people.
At least I still have my volunteer work. Oh, that reminds me! I do have one friend. We met at the soup kitchen I volunteer at. But his home life is super crazy and it’s been hard for us to be real friends outside of just grabbing a drink after the soup kitchen. But still, we actually talk on the phone and I even know the names of people is his life.
Because of my awful memory when it comes to names, I really consider someone a friend when I can start naming names of people who are important to them. Not the best measuring tool, but it’s accurate.
Today is the day I start volunteering with The Reciprocity Foundation. I’m very glad I’ll be able to get this started after having such a great experience the other week. They do such amazing things, and I cannot wait to be a part of it. I’m diving right in helping with resumes and college applications. It’ll be nice to keep those skills sharp for some point in the future when I apply for grad school and when I apply for a promotion at work.
Speaking of volunteering, the woman I work with at the home for new mothers is finally getting all the pieces into place. She has steady hours for her new job, she found a 24 hour day care that will work with her as her work schedule changes, and the baby is doing well. She’s finally ready to start looking for apartments. It’s heart-warming to see people whose lives have actually improved from help given by others.
Some of her help is from private citizens, like the program that allows her to stay at the home. But she also gets government assistance that helps her buy food for her daughter that she chose to give birth to rather than abort. I’m about as pro-choice as they come (meaning I have no issues with late-term abortions), but I know that choice means respecting someone’s choice even when they have no way to take care of the baby they have decided to bring into the world.
This woman sought out all the help she could and put in a lot of hard work to make a life for herself to support her child. In a few years, she’ll have a degree, years of work experience that she can springboard into a real career, and a stable home for her daughter. That’s something to be proud of, and it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside, since the weather won’t cooperate to keep me that was on the outside.
I’m starting to notice a trend. When I am not publishing new blog posts, it’s not because I don’t have anything to say. It’s because I don’t like what I have to say.
When I’m writing blog posts, I like them to have an overall positive feel. Even if I fussing about something, there’s still a good-natured me behind it.
But man, I’m feeling something like the winter blues.
Last week, I posted a weather forecast that forecasted weather in the 50s today. Did that happen? Hell no, it didn’t happen.
And now, they are predicting another polar vortex this time next week. Ugh, I can’t take it anymore. Just like the last time I went to visit Chicago, they are predicting temperatures in the single digits. Spring can’t come soon enough.
Beyond the winter blues, For Valentine’s Day, it was up and down. I sent Easy and my best friend Valentine’s Day cards in the mail. And I sent the husband a big ass box of Crunch bars (his favorite) in the mail.
Then I had to watch all of New York figuratively and literally embrace the holiday. People everywhere had teddy bears, flowers, candy, balloons, etc. They were holding hands and sticking their tongues down each other’s throat. It was just all so much.
Then for the next few days, at the soup kitchen and at work, everyone kept asking everyone else how their VDay was. Here’s how my typical conversation went:
Them: Hey CeCe, how was your Valentine’s Day?
Me: Oh, it was uneventful. The husband is in Chicago, so, you know…
Them: Oh, that’s too bad! Well, at least he sent you flowers, right?
[He didn’t do that]
Me: Oh, um… no, well he didn’t do that, but you know…
Them: Ohhhh, um, well… At least he called you, right?
Me: Yes, he did. He called me in the afternoon to wish me happy vday.
Them [looking visibly relieved and eager to move on]: Oh, good! Well, there you go.
So you see, I had to field that question and answer that Easy didn’t send me flowers. I honestly didn’t think anything about the lack of a Valentine’s Day gift until it they pointed it out to me over and over again. At least when I recounted this to him, we got a nice chuckle from the story.
I had all these plans with my maybe new New York friends while Easy is away. And they’ve been cancelling on me left and right.
I still haven’t gone rock climbing. That’s been re-scheduled for–I kid you not– “let’s aim for mid-March-ish.”
I haven’t gone out for drinks to Smalls without Easy. That gets pushed to the next weekend every Friday night.
I haven’t gone to a single restaurant for NYC Restaurant Week. I know we’re only 5 days in, but I already had plans to go to Delmonico’s, which I would never be able to afford under any other circumstances. My friend cancelled those plants and did not reschedule them.
I haven’t gone to kickboxing yet because snow and more snow, and I didn’t want to travel to break a sweat with a ton of snow and ice on the ground.
And the straw that finally broke the camel’s back was yesterday. I was locking my house door behind me when I got a call from my doctor’s office. He stayed at the hospital and they were cancelling my appointment.
They rescheduled it for me. For 28 days from now. It is his first available appointment that allows me to get to work on time and isn’t while I’m already scheduled out-of-town.
After settling on the couch to finally watch this week’s episodes of American Idol (it’s so good this season!), Easy called me. He made a very… culturally insensitive comment that led to a conversation about it that led to a conversation about how difficult it is for us to talk to each other.
Our marriage foundation was setup on three pillars: Love, Trust, and Communication. Without even realizing it, we went a bit off with the communication.
There are things he doesn’t share with me because he doesn’t want to hear my reaction or he knows I’m going to want further explanation that he feels like giving or a number of other reasons that basically means talking to me sucks.
This is the part I’m really feeling conflicted about blogging about. Easy and I never really discuss our problems except for with our closest of friends. The ones who we know love us so much that they aren’t going to turn on our spouse because of one problem, no matter how big. And here I am discussing this on the blog.
I feel a bit better about talking about this because it’s not me complaining about him, it’s his problem with me. I have acknowledged my tendency toward hypercriticism (is that a word?). I just didn’t realize it was affecting Easy’s ability to even have a conversation with me.
Luckily, as he says, we’re solutions people. Just like I was able to get over my hesitancy to talk to him when he wasn’t retaining anything I was saying, he’s going to give me a chance to stop being so critical.
It’s such a fine line to walk. The origin of the criticism is from a lack of understanding.
Half the time he says something to me, I don’t understand. He can say the same phrase twice in a week or even twice in the same conversation, and it will have completely different and unrelated meanings.
Other times, he’ll say something vague and then I’ll ask for an explanation, and he won’t have one. Trying to think of a way to clarify or explain frustrates him, then I get frustrated, and then we’re both just irritated with each other.
None of this is so terrible until we zoom in on the was I convey my frustration or my lack of understanding or my request for an explanation. When I am feeling cognitive dissonance, the gloves come off.
So I’ve got to find a way to make this better. I don’t know if I should just accept the information he gives me with no clarification. I don’t know how that would work. I remember it, for one thing. Or maybe I just think I won’t remember it. Seeing as how it’s the only idea I’ve got, I have to try it.
Because I want to grow into a better wife.
Because I feel awful that it snuck up on us that things had gotten this bad.
And because I love my husband, and he deserves to have a marriage with someone he actually wants to talk to.
And maybe if he can talk to me, he won’t cancel our anniversary next year.
The husband has been gone since the 4th, and I’ve barely talked to him. I forgot how busy he is when he’s in Chicago. But I’m definitely going to talk to him today because it’s our anniversary!
Two years today. And two years on Tuesday too. We got married at my church on Feb 8th, then had a big ass wedding Feb 11th. It’s been an interesting two years.
We made the move to NYC and it’s been amazing here. We had this plan to spend a few years here, then maybe go overseas to Europe for a few years. Then we’d come back to the states and maybe spend some time in Honduras where the husband’s family is from.
But I’m feeling very nest-y and both the husband and I are over moving. Perhaps in a few years we can reassess. But I love New York so much, I could lay down roots here and be happy.
The only problem is the public schools here are not so great. There are charter schools and magnet programs and whatnot, but I have to say as a potential future parent, it has me worried.
The school conversation can wait though because it’s my anniversary.
The traditional US 2nd anniversary gift is cotton. What is that about?
When I searched on Amazon for gift options, they basically showed me a bunch of pillowcases and linen scented candles. Those scented candles are wrong anyway because linen is the gift for another year’s anniversary.
At least cotton is pretty affordable. I should buy him a ream of fabric. Considering the fact that the husband’s creativity is pretty music-centric, that would amount to the worst gift ever for him.
There is also the relatively easy dinner-candles-lingerie option, but he’s out-of-town for a month, so that’s a no go.
Whatever I decide to gift him, I know he’ll appreciate. We agreed no Christmas gifts, then he wrote me beautiful letter as his gift. Then he got upset at me later for not getting him a gift. I don’t know how that happened, but I won’t repeat that mistake for our anniversary.
There is also Valentine’s Day coming up, but we don’t usually make too big of a deal out of. We generally exchange cards and some candy, and maybe do dinner.
I was this person who would go all out for celebrations. Birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, didn’t matter. If there was a formal reason to celebrate, I was all over it.
The husband isn’t really like that, so my celebration tendencies have decreased a bit. We still do birthdays really well, but everything else, not so much.
One of my best friends decided she and I would be BFF Valentine’s Day buddies. That isn’t a thing, but it is now. She sent me two cards in the mail. One to the husband and me for our anniversary, and the other to me for Valentine’s Day. She also bought me a necklace on Etsy and it’s freaking adorable!
Getting gifts lately reminded how much I love them. The husband and I did this quiz forever ago to determine our love languages. I am a gifts and acts person, and a bit of a quality time person. I don’t need the words and the touch so much.
Because we live in a sitcom, the husband is a words and touch person, and a bit of a quality time person.
We know we have different languages, so we have to remind ourselves to value stronger what we wouldn’t naturally value for love expressions. And occasionally, we remember to give gifts in the other person’s love language.
I know the husband reads all my blog posts (because he loves me!), so I thought I would include some wonderful loving words for him.
Hey husband, you’re awesome. When I think about our life as it stands, I wouldn’t change a thing. I love New York and I love being in New York with you. The people I’ve met and things I’ve experienced here is all because of you.
I’m proud of who you are as a person. You are someone I can depend on and someone who has helped me grow as a person too.
We’re two years in with hopefully another 50+ years to go. I can’t wait to see what’s next for us. But if stay right where we are now, I’d love that too.
I can’t wait until we see each other again. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all of that.
Did you ever feel like your life was a movie? Hopefully, it’s not a horror movie or even a suspense thriller, but some sort of drama or comedy or romcom?
I used to feel that way sometimes. Things that happened in my life seemed straight out of someone else’s imagination.
Since being with the husband, my life feels very much life a sitcom. It’s like someone presents a premise that appears normal, puts a twist on it, and then hilarity ensues with everyone learning (or not learning) a lesson at the end.
Some of the time, we’re normal. But in between the normal, we careen from one crazy situation to the next.
What has happened recently to further let me know I’m right about this? I’m glad you asked.
I mentioned before that the husband went to Haiti for a weekend for a jazz festival down there. He arrived back in town on a Sunday evening.
I headed to the airport to pick him up, along with a good friend of ours who was visiting NYC for a series of gigs, including the Haitian jazz festival.
I decided that I was going to surprise the husband. At a first glance, it looked like I was wearing jeans, a fleece, boots, and one of my winter coats. Peel down one layer and I was wearing something fun and frisky underneath.
Upon arriving to the airport, I’m immediately stuck in a traffic jam. If you’ve ever driven to pick someone up from an airport, you know that sometimes you have to circle around because airport security won’t let you just idle outside on the curb.
After my second time circling around, the gas light came on. How I managed to avoid noticing the gas was that low escapes me, but it fits into the sitcom, so of course I didn’t notice.
I ended up pulling to the end of a long line of cars standing in an awkward point of not-really-the-entrance-to-the-parking-lot and not-really-the-way-to-circle-back-around-to-arrivals. Just my luck, the tail end of the car was a bit in the way of cars trying to pass us.
Don’t worry, no one hit my car, but a few cars made a huge show of slowing down and creeping past to make sure they had room. One jerk in a while baby SUV did it six times. I mean, come on dude, you should’ve figured out in the first couple of passes that your tiny SUV could fit.
After over a half hour of waiting, the husband calls to say they just made it out of customs and currently en route to baggage claim. Oh, and he got a gig offer that he simply had to take because it was a group he hasn’t played with yet and he’s still new to New York, so he really can’t turn down gigs just yet even though he just landed from an international flight and he’s really sleepy and hungry and in need of a shower but, you know, he really should take this gig.
When he gets on a roll like that, I just smile into the phone, roll my eyes, and say, “sure, sounds good.” Or some other version of that to make it clear that I’m not adding my opinion to the mix.
They finally get out to the curb, and I pick them up. I regale them with stories of the sex museum and tofu roti from the previous day while we try to figure out the quickest way to get from JFK to the Village.
I’ve never driven through Queens before, but I must tell you now. It. Is Horrendous. You know how they say the rats in NYC subways will make your hometown rats look tiny and pitiful? The Queens potholes take after the rats.
I’m from Chicago, land of the poorly-filled pothole. But these were something else. And because my life is a sitcom, I immediately hit several potholes that my only chance of avoiding was smashing into the car beside me or driving into oncoming traffic.
After we kept driving past the horrific potholes, I worried that the car was driving funny. Then went we got on the expressway, I felt even stronger that something was wrong.
Then the tire-issue light came on, further letting me know something was wrong. I even asked the husband if he thought we should pull over to check the car out to make sure it was okay.
The husband told me that he knew much more about cars than I did and I should just keep on driving and get him to his gig. Feeling very much like I wanted to save the husband from digging his own grave, I chose silence and kept driving.
While on the Williamsburg Bridge, things started to feel really weird. Things finally felt weird enough that the husband agreed something was off. After going down a few more awful Chinatown streets, we finally pulled over on Canal not too far from Broadway.
At this point, the whole care is literally rattling every time I press the gas.
Literally, not figuratively.
I’m thinking it’s a broken axle or something, but the husband figured it was just a flat tire that needed changing. So he and our friend decide they’re going to change the tire right at that moment. On Canal. On a Sunday night. On a busy street. While it was dark. With the problem tire being on the driver’s side.
I let him get started on changing the tire. When it became apparent he was literally (not figuratively) standing in the path of oncoming traffic in his attempt to assess the tire and prepare to change it, I had to say something.
“So, what’s the best way to explain to your mother that this is not my fault when I call to tell her you’ve wandered into traffic and got hit?”
A little sarcasm and gallows humor goes a long way people.
He decided against changing the tire and called our insurance company. They said they could send a guy to change our tire in 20 minutes or a guy to tow our car to a desired location in one hour.
With those two options, of course we wanted the tire change guy. But if there was further damage beyond a flat, they weren’t going to send that guy. We didn’t want to wait an hour for the other guy if all we needed was a changed tire.
Classes sitcom dilemma. Ultimately, we decided to get the tow because the tire was rattling just a bit too much for comfort and we didn’t want to risk driving the car until the wheel literally came off.
Show of hands, who thinks the tow truck guy actually arrived in an hour?
No one? You’re all so smart.
After about 80 minutes, we see a tow truck go flying past us on the street where no one is driving under the speed limit. You know, the one where the husband thought it was a good idea to attempt a tire change.
We tried to honk and get his attention, but no luck. When we described our location to dispatch, we gave very specific cross streets. In this area, there were only four cars, two on each side of the street. There were no other cars for at least two blocks in any direction.
So of course the tow truck guy says he couldn’t figure out where we were. When he comes back our way, he’s on the wrong side of the street and performs a very artful 7 point turn to get to our side of the street.
It takes him forever to hitch our car to the truck, and an additional 20 minutes to convince us that he can fit all three of us in the front seat of his truck. None of us are tiny people, and we felt serious doubt, but we squeezed in there.
The driver and the husband spent the next half hour dissecting all the nuances in their difference of opinion of hip hop from the 1990s versus today. I recognized about six names they were mentioning. Must do better as a self-proclaimed lover of 90s music.
I lost the feeling in my legs, got a intercostal muscle cramp that didn’t go away for 2 hours, and get to know our friend really well, but we made it back to the Brooklyn brownstone.
I grabbed my keys out of my purse and let the men know I was heading inside. Their plan was to stay outside and change the tire so the husband could take the car to get fixed the next day.
Fast forward 45 minutes: they come back inside having decided to wait until the next morning to change the tire.
Fast forward to the next morning: they wake up late and have to rush off to a rehearsal for an amazing MLK Day gig at Dizzy’s Coca Cola Club (Jazz at the Lincoln Center), and the tire changing will have to wait
Fast forward a few more days: the tire still isn’t changed and now there’s an awful snowstorm that is literally (this time, figuratively) burying cars under piles of snow.
Fast forward to yesterday: the husband finally, after ten days, schedules the car for maintenance. Thanks Geico for giving us low-priced insurance with a freaking $500 deductible.
Oh, one other thing I forgot to mention. The husband hates packing. So on the return trip from Haiti, he packed his box o’ jewelry in his checked bag instead of in his carry-on.
Upon unpacking in Chicago, he discovers his wedding ring is missing. Cuff links, chain, and collar stays were all still present. But his wedding ring and a very nice gold ring his father gave him were both gone. And our insurance at Jared says they don’t cover theft. Renter’s insurance also doesn’t cover something that happened in another country.
But here’s the real kicker. How will our episode end? Was is just a flat tire or is there really something wrong with the axle? I promise I’ll let you all know as soon as I do.
Cause you’re on the edge of your seat, right?
Who doesn’t love a good melodramatic battle-of-the-sexes sitcom cliffhanger?
Did you miss me?
I’ve been gone quite a while. I didn’t take a break from blogging on purpose, but I did take a break. Settling into New York City living has been… interesting, to say the least.
But I’m pretty much all settled in now. A trip to Chicago last weekend where it was cold as hell (Polar Vortex, anyone?) convinced me that I really am A Chicago-Style Girl in NYC. The husband says I’m a New Yorker, and he feels very proud of himself for getting me home.
I have to admit, I love it here.
Manhattan is lovely, Brooklyn is lovely. And the other boroughs… well I don’t know too much about them. We have family in Staten Island, but we don’t get over there that often.
I have judged New Yorkers for years for never leaving their island(s), but now I totally get it. The idea of traveling anywhere else feels overwhelming. I have some traveling to do for my 30th birthday bucket list, which I’ll happily explain in a later post. But other than that, I won’t do any more travel outside of New York except to two (so far!) weddings I have to attend this year.
So what have I been up to in the four months since my last post? A bunch of the same ole same ole.
I still work in organ and tissue donation, pretty much doing the same thing in New York that I was doing in Chicago.
I’m still doing my volunteer work at the home for new mothers. I also volunteer at a soup kitchen in Greenwich Village on Saturdays.
I finally got my box cutter, and I carry it and my pepper spray everywhere I go. Makes me feel safe, you know?
I still have issues with laundry. I pray for the day that we’ll be able to afford an apartment with laundry in the building.
I still suck at making friends, but I have been hanging out with folks from the soup kitchen, so that’s a start. I’m also pretty friendly with some people from work, but I’m slow-playing that because it’s new for me make friends with co-workers.
As I mentioned before, my trip home was this past weekend. I went home because of one of my girl’s baby shower. Six of my bridesmaids plus myself have this little crew and we take care of each other.
They, along with my mother, threw my bridal shower. And this six of us who are not pregnant planned this baby shower.
I made the centerpieces, which was a fun craft project. Hand-painting zebra print is not for the faint of heart.
Taking 7 solid wood bases through airport security is also not for the faint of heart. But I got through it and now each of my girls has a memento from the baby shower.
I’m glad I’m back blogging and I look forward to catching up on all the blogs I haven’t been reading for the last few months. Can’t wait to see what you people have been up to. Happy New Year! Happy Holidays! and all that.
After I left Chicago, I headed to Atlanta. I left my parents’ house at 4 in the morning, but I didn’t get to Atlanta until after 3pm. There’s a good story behind that one, but that’s a post for another time.
When I got to Atlanta, I called my best friend who was the best man at the wedding I’d gone to Atlanta to attend. He, of all the people I know, is the best at coming off completely unconcerned. So when I inquired about the best way to get to the hotel, all he said was, “I don’t know. I got a ride with his parents, so I’m not sure what to tell you.”
Clearly I was on my own.
So I figured it would be fine to get to the hotel from the airport because the Atlanta airport had all sorts of shuttles back and forth to the area hospitals.
And I was super wrong.
The hotel we were at is in Peachtree City, which is at least a half hour drive from the airport. At least.
So no shuttle.
I was on my own. And I ended up having to take a $55 taxi to get to the hotel.
Then the taxi only took cash, so I had to find an ATM and pay ATM fees to get the money.
But finally I was checked in and in my room, enjoying how plush the bed was. I knew the wedding party had the rehearsal at some point that day, as it was the day before the wedding, so I figured I’d just hang out by myself and do a whole bunch of nothing.
Then my phone rang and it was my best friend asking where I was. He really can turn the concern on and off quite easily. I let him I know I was at the hotel and he came down to my room to hang out for a bit. We went back over the last few days and how crazy they were for him as best man.
The bride of this wedding we were there for is very detail oriented. She didn’t need or want a lot of input about the wedding. As such, my friend ended up only stepping in with best man duties when it was time for the bachelor party. For the party, they took a weekend trip to Vegas. That’s all I’ll say about that.
But things picked up in terms of best man duties right before the wedding. They let him know they wanted him to hold the ring, the marriage license, pick up the tuxes from the groomsmen to return the next day, and come up with fun events for the wedding party and guests who wanted to party extra during the weekend.
They let him know all of this on Wednesday for a Saturday wedding, which wasn’t a lot of notice. But he called me to help iron out some details of his best man speech for the wedding reception. And he called one of the other groomsman who helped with the bachelor party planning.
He and I brainstormed several times over the months on what his speech should say. When it came down to just a few days before the wedding, we finally hammered out the specifics. It made me think back to when we were in college together and we took all our classes together.
We collaborate really well together and it was fun trying to come up with a speech that was true to his current relationship with the groom, funny, heartfelt, and befitting of a wedding for young professionals (half the wedding was doctors).
After the speech was finalized, other issues popped up. I’m not going to put people’s business out there who didn’t give permission first. But I will say that my friend had to deal with an errant groomsman and a guest who’s “invitation got lost in the mail.”
All of that was handled before we got to Atlanta though, thank God.
Back to the day before the wedding. My friend and I were hanging out in my room when the groom called him. When he heard I had arrived, he came down to my room as well. I hadn’t seen him since my wedding last year. And it hadn’t been just the three of us in over five years. So we all laughed and had a nice quick chat like old times for a moment.
Then it was time for hanging. The guys went to a sports bar to watch the game. The ladies went to a spa for mani/pedis. I had a good time getting to know the bride’s friends. I hadn’t met any of them before, but they were very welcoming of my friend-of-the-groom self.
On the day of the wedding, it was raining pretty hard all day. Luckily, it stopped raining about a half hour before the outdoor ceremony was supposed to start and didn’t rain again for the rest of the night. Every detail was gorgeous, showing off the bride’s eye for detail.
I think I’ll put up a couple of pictures, just to give you a taste. It really was that gorgeous.
After the wedding, it was time for the reception. The food was good, the company was good, the music was good. What more could you want?
Then it was time for the speeches. The maid of honor’s speech was first. She talked about when she and the bride first met and it was sweet and kind of funny and very heartfelt. I was so happy about the length and mix of heart and humor in her speech because my friend was worried his speech was too long and too all-over-the-place.
Then it was his turn to talk. The whole room seemed to ripple with anticipation. We laughed about it later because we were like, “um, do these people even know him well enough to be this anticipatory about this speech?”
Is anticipatory a word? I’m much better at math than other things like English and grammar.
Anyway, so he gets up to make his speech to the sounds of laughter as people are already so sure they’re going to laugh, they’re starting it off ahead of time.
And the speech is perfect. The whole room was laughing, including the people who didn’t know him or the groom well. The groom had tears in his eyes. The bride was smiling a very large smile. It was a hit. I was feeling so proud of my friend and also patting myself on the back.
It was hard work getting that speech that perfect. We spent a lot of man hours over the months getting it just right, and it paid off.
So how do you put together the perfect best man speech?
1) Take account of your personality and don’t pretend to be different.
2) Think about what both the bride and groom are expecting and keep that in mind.
3) Think of the main points you want to make (they belong together, I am his best friend deservedly so, and I’m happy to be here), and make sure you stick to the script
4) Come up with a funny and a heartwarming story to illustrate each point
5) Choose alternating story types
6) Out of all your stories, take out the weaker ones and just make the point while only alluding to the stories, the groom will react to the inside joke and everyone else will feel even stronger how close you are
7) Include wedding guests by name if you can, it just makes everyone feel closer
8) Don’t forget to say, “to the bride and groom!” at the end of your speech
And probably, get some help from your other best friend to make sure it’s all coming together just right.
After the wedding, my friend needed help assisting the groom, so I went with him. We went to their bridal suite and grabbed up some important items. We took his tux, her dress, and other assorted wedding items that the groom’s parents were going to be responsible for getting safely home. I felt really special to be let in on that moment for them.
It really let me know i’d make a great bridesmaid of matron of honor for one of my friends, should they ever get married. The only two of my friends to get married are two guys, and neither is really the type to have a non-family girl stand up for them at their wedding. Plus, I’d rather have one of my girls get married so all the wedding-related stuff is girly. I guess I’m officially far enough removed from my own wedding to want to be involved in another wedding. So now I wait.
Also after the wedding, we put together a little hang in one of the hotel rooms for the people who wanted the party to continue. We ended up laughing, talking, and hanging out until pretty late. I only got a couple of hours of sleep before I needed to get up to go to the airport to head back to New York City.
And now for the pictures!
I wish I could tell you I had great stories from this past weekend to share with you. I wish I could say we went on a very interesting double date with the future divorcé and his girl.
But that didn’t happen.
My weekend was filled with lots of stalls to the unpacking, very little showering, and absolutely no desire to socialize.
So here’s what happened.
Friday morning, I was determined to do better with the unpacking. I knew that my efforts to get the TV setup for the cable guy would payoff. I would watch Property Virgins while unpacking Friday night.
The husband found the TV power cord like he said he would. Score one for the husband.
But then the cable guy didn’t show. Well, he showed, he just didn’t install our cable.
Or even come inside our apartment.
Or even ring our freaking doorbell.
I got a call from the cable company dispatcher people telling me he was running late. Then they called again to tell me he was still running late but that they’d call when he was on his way.
Instead, I got a voicemail from him saying no one was home so he was leaving. I was pissed and called back to inquire what happened. They gave me his perfect description of my building, and told me he left because we weren’t home.
I let them know the husband was being held hostage at the house waiting on this man, so he was definitely home. My proof of this was the delivery from UPS that had arrived that same day. I surmised the cable guy was an idiot who couldn’t figure out which doorbell was ours.
They told me he’d already left the service area, but they would try to find someone to come back to the house.
I spent the next six hours calling them back several times to inquire about an available technician. This was extra awful because each time they said they’d call me back, but they didn’t.
By the time 9:00pm rolled around, I was scheduled for the first appointment in the morning, and I had a credit that amounted to 50% off my first bill. I was furious about the whole situation, so it kind of ruined my mood.
The husband had the perfect plan to cheer me up though. We went to Jazz at the Lincoln Center to see this really nice band play. One of his friends was in the band who I love so much, so it was great to see him as well.
When my best friend was here helping me get moved in, we went to Jazz at the Lincoln Center as well. This time, we were on the list, and we knew the musicians. I have to say, it’s nice being married to a musician. Things are just… easier when it comes to certain events.
I can’t wait until my best friend comes for a visit and I can take her back there musician-style.
After we left The Lincoln Center, we went downtown to Small’s. It’s this great little club where they were having a jam session. I really had a great time there.
Also, I confirmed for myself that I really enjoy this drink that is Rye whiskey with lemon-lime soda. This place I went to in Greenpoint had it on the menu called a Rye Collins (like Tom Collins, get it?). It feels like such a grown up drink, barely girly at all.
I may watch a lot of episodes of Man Men, but I’ve got nothing on those people. I only had two drinks, but I was good after that.
Good enough to not need another drink.
Good enough to need some Tylenol before I went to bed then again when I woke up.
I’m getting old y’all.
So the divorcé’s girl arrived Saturday morning. He went on the train and met her when she got off the bus. Then they came back to the apartment where we were just finishing up getting our cable, internet, and phone installed.
Based on a plan I helped the divorcé develop, he grabbed our really awesome picnic basket and stopped by the grocery store. They grabbed some stuff to make lunch and bought a blanket from another store on the way to the train.
When they got back, which was many hours later, they said they got so many compliments on the picnic basket. That made me happy.
I wasn’t in the best of moods though, and it didn’t hit me until much later that I didn’t even inquire about how the picnic went. Let me put it this way, I was still in my bathroom that I’d put on when I changed out of my clothes the previous night.
All I was thinking about was how the husband and I happily live in a naked house (whoop whoop, no kids yet!). But we couldn’t be our normal naked selves because we had guests. Wonderful guests, one of whom helped the husband move across state lines.
But I just wasn’t feeling it.
So we ordered pizza and watched Up on the PS3 Blu-Ray player.
They both had to leave the next morning, and I only noticed their presence briefly when they said goodbye before leaving.
I was hoping for a fun story of some sort, but instead, it’s just me pissed at the cable guy and refusing to change out of my robe.
At least I got to go to Jazz and the Lincoln Center. I can’t wait to do that again!
I almost forgot. We went to church on Sunday. The husband and I went back to the church I had attended the previous week. He loved it!
It’s been… a journey with the husband in terms of church attendance since we’ve been together.
I’m so happy he likes this church and I’m looking forward to going back again next week. And the week after that. And maybe even the week after that as well.
It’s just such a happy place. I could stand to be around people who are happy, and extra happy for no reason. I wouldn’t mind that rubbing off on me a bit.
Because of a couple of reasons, we’re only about 3/5 of the way unpacked. I really do love our apartment though, so I swear it’s not going to go like it did in Hyde Park.
Even though I’m staying late at work today, I do intend to finish the rest of it by this weekend. The dresser I ordered online arrives tomorrow, so that should help a lot.
When it comes to moving, I’m a bit of a monster.
It’s become clear that I’m a full out bitch.
I don’t start off with that intention, but it always ends this way.
After moving my crap around this country eleven times in the last ten years, it’s become clear that I turn into a raving mad awful no good person on moving day.
Hello, my name is CeCe, and I’m a moveaholic.
I forgot this about myself because I hated our apartment in Hyde Park in Chicago, but I get a rush out of settling into a new place. Unpacking boxes and rearranging our items just so gets me going.
All of this sounds positive, right?
When it comes to my feelings about moving into a new place, it’s just not a group activity.
Not even a little bit.
Last night the husband and the future divorcé arrived to our cute little Brooklyn brownstone. They had a UHaul truck mostly full of stuff. We quickly decided that I’d watch the truck and move the items to the edge of the truck. The divorcé would take the items from the back of the truck into the building. The husband’s job was to get the items inside the apartment.
The whole thing took under two hours I think. I honestly wasn’t checking the time. We have a lot of crap, even with the downsize to prepare for New York living. Once we got everything into the apartment, all I wanted to do was setup the bed so I could sleep in my own bed.
I also needed to setup the shelves for the entertainment area and get the TV ready for the cable guy who’s supposed to come today.
When I walked into the apartment and saw how the husband had placed things, I got upset. I was fussing about why the clothes weren’t put into the bedroom and why the coast weren’t put into the closet and why the kitchen stuff wasn’t put into the kitchen and why everything was piled against the wall where I’d already told him the TV would be setup on.
The divorcé offered to help move some things around, but then abruptly changed his mind and rescinded his offer.
That’s when I realized I’d just given him a look of death.
I gave him a how-dare-you-offer-to-help-you’ll-probably-only-just-fuck-it-up-save-yourself-and-get-the-hell-out-of-my-face look.
It was a look the husband knew all too well. All he said was, “we’re going to go park the UHaul somewhere we won’t get a ticket, then we’re going to find food. We’ll see you later.”
I really married the right man y’all. Other guys I’ve dated would’ve reacted in less.. productive ways. But not the husband. He saw the signs of a woman on the rampage and cleared out. Also, he probably didn’t want to have to snap on me after all my fussing. He saved himself and he saved me.
While they were gone, I got to work. There’s just something so great about organizing. I don’t even know how to explain it.
All of the stress I feel when moving to a new place comes lashing out at the nearest person who tries to help. As a personal self-growth note, I really need to fix that shit. I shouldn’t have my loved ones running for the hills just because I’ve moved, especially because I move so damn often.
But all that stress just melts away with each new shelf I setup. And when the bed was fully put together, I really relaxed. By the time the basics were setup, it was after 1:00am and I was overdue to get some sleep so I could get up for work in the morning.
Except one thing.
I couldn’t find the cord to plug in the TV. the way our TV is setup, the power cord can detach. I didn’t remember where I packed it, and I was worried the cable guy wouldn’t be able to get our stuff setup today. But it worked out. The husband found the cord this morning and plugged it in.
Even though I didn’t have the cord when I went to bed last night, I didn’t stress because I knew the husband would handle it. That’s how I knew my release therapy via shelf-building worked.
So now I just have to go home after work and finish unpacking, hopefully while watching the new episode of Property Virgins on HGTV. But that’s not guaranteed. The cable company called while I was writing this post to tell me the guy was running late, and they didn’t know what time he’d get to me.
Lord, let this man arrive today, otherwise I’m going to revert right back to how I was last night. And I don’t think the husband will put up with that shit two days in a row.
By the time I get home from work today, the husband should be here. I’m so excited!
I gathered my things to come to New York almost a whole month ago. The last time I saw him was three weeks and four days ago. It feels like forever.
Even though he’ll only be here for two weeks, I’m still really excited for the two weeks we have.
I wish that we could just spend all weekend cozying up in our new apartment, but that’s not even close to a reality.
A good friend of ours is coming with the husband in the UHaul truck. We’re so grateful that he’s coming to help. He’s helping drive the truck, and he’s helping up get everything up to the apartment. He has worked for UPS on and off for years, so he’s a pro at this type of thing.
I mentioned this friend in a post a while ago. He’s one of the millions of people who were a part of our wedding party. He stood up with me as one of my bridesmen. He’s also one of the people whose relationship status changed since my wedding.
This friend is getting divorced.
Before you feel sad for him, just know that every person in his life who loves him is ecstatic about his pending divorce.
You read that right. We’re ecstatic. Glad for her to go. Not even a little bit sad about it. In any way.
That being said, it kind of sucks in general that he’s getting divorced. His parents have been married for 30+ years, and so he wanted to follow that trend.
Now that we’ve established his relationship status, there is, of course, more to tell.
There’s a girl meeting him here in New York.
She’s coming for a weekend trip. Previously, the timing just happened to work out that she and a friend were taking a trip here. But the friend flaked on her, but she’s still coming.
And now she’s staying with us too. She doesn’t live in Chicago, so this will count as their third date I think.
He took a trip to the East Coast, and she’s been back home to Chicago for a visit. They came out to one of the husband’s gigs in Chicago, so we’ve spent time together, but not much time.
So this weekend, I’m going to have the husband, who I’ve been missing like crazy. But I’m not going to have my two cats because my friend is allergic.
Apparently, he’s deathly allergic, though I never knew that before as he’s spent time before in my home where I’ve had a cat.
My poor mother (who hates cats, and dogs, and birds, and pets of all kinds, and plants) will just have to deal with the cats for a few more weeks until we drive the car to New York. I’m not risking damaging the health of the person who’s helping us move all our crap across the country, you know?
I imagine that I will have some interesting or crazy stories to tell after this weekend is done. The husband and our friend will be here in less than six hours. The girl arrives tomorrow or Saturday, not sure which one.
All we have is our full sized bed and the queen sized air mattress. For many reasons, we’ll give them the air mattress. I just really need to sleep in my bed, first and foremost.
But also, these two haven’t shared a bed yet. I don’t think they’ve even napped on the same couch yet. I’m fine with doing the hospitality thing, but as his friend, I wish for him that their first time sharing a bed (even if it’s just to sleep, wink wink) wasn’t in someone’s living room.
I’ve got all sorts of things I want to do with the husband. There are so many great restaurants in our neighborhood and a nice church we could potentially join I want him to visit.
It’ll be interesting to see whether these plans will be like a weekend long double date or not. I don’t want to invite them along because they’re both so nice they may feel compelled to say yes even though they may want to hang out alone.
On the other hand, I don’t want to not invite them when neither of them are from here and they may feel left out and not know what to do on their own.
I’m not good with decisions. Especially decisions for other people I don’t know that well. Especially when those decisions directly affect my ability to hang out with the husband behind closed doors.
At the very least, by then end of this weekend, I’ll have cable, wifi, and my own bed to sleep in. The husband will have tried some great new restaurants and can finally be done moving. And our friend can spend some more time with his new girl.
If nothing interesting happens, I’ll make something up for you all after this buildup.