Merry-Go-Round

Saturday night was our first party at our little apartment in North Beach! And, it was a success! Or, I'd like to think so, based on the thank you texts I received today and my hangover from hell.

A few of my friends, a few of my room mates' friends, and B came for an evening of drunken merriment. We even did a white elephant gift exchange. And, after the party was getting too rowdy for our apartment we headed to a 'wee' pub down the street. (you can thank my Canadian room mate for that)

It had been a rough week for B and me. Both of us have been exhausted, sick, and stressed beyond our capabilities, and we hadn't seen each other all week. It was a huge relief that he didn't freak out at the party (where people kept calling him my boyfriend!), and that a few of my friends told me today how much they liked him...and his homemade beer.

We spent the rest of today together, and I'm looking forward to New Year's Eve. I found a dress, he won't have work, and we won't have seen each other in ten days! I hope we make it to the party...ok, I hope we make it to midnight. All the sweet nothings he's been whispering in my ears must be getting to my head...it's either that or the eggnog.

Melting...Like Butta

Thursday evening I had what was the inevitable first break down of the semester. I was stressed with finals, lack of room mate respect, the anticipation of cooking B dinner, and other philosophical questions such as 'what is fulfillment?,' 'do I have a purpose?,' and 'will I ever be creative and making money?'

(By the way, if anyone does have answers to these questions, please post them as soon as possible!)

I wasn't fully over the shock to my emotional system when B arrived last night. My cooking performance, taking a total of 2 hours, should have been showcased on youtube as 'The Domestically Challenged.'

We sat down to eat, and 2 of the 3 dishes came out decently well. I was pretty unhappy with the the main course, but B seemed pleased...or, did a good job faking it. We both commiserated over stresses and our strong desire for a little R&R. I cleaned up dessert, and it wasn't long before we were standing under the mistle toe...

I won't get into the rest of the 'barf worthy' evening. But, you could say we are a bit more than casual...and, B promised he's in it for real this time. To leave you all with a little vomit in your mouths...

'This is the best night I've had in a very, very long time.' - B

Holiday Cheer

You know why I love this time of year?

Drinking and Merriment.

Last night B and I took a break from our stressful, pre-vacation, cram sessions to enjoy the festive quality in the air and each other. We walked to the Fillmore, where we dined at a small pub lavishly clad in Christmas decorations and Santa-con participants. Afterwards, we went to see Black Swan, which I highly recommend. Nothing screams Christmas more than hot cocoa, spiked with peppermint schnopps, and a movie about ballerinas!

After the movie we ended up walking all the way back to my apartment, which is not close at all, especially with two huge hills in between. When we finally made it, I grabbed a bottle of wine and we headed back out to the treacherous stairs at the end of my street. Once seated, relaxed, and drinking wine from the bottle we both stared at the luminous skyline.

An hour or so later, we were tired, but after everything that's happened between us, I wasn't ready for him to stay the night. So, as I was leaving him to walk down the stairs, he finally pulled me in for a kiss. Standing in the middle of the street we kissed...and kissed...and kissed. And then we just stood there with our arms wrapped around each other. Finally, we unfurled and said good night.

As I went scampering down the steps back to my apartment my knees were crumbling beneath me. There isn't any better feeling than weak knees, butterflies in your stomach, aching at your groin, and roughly, chapped lips. Sigh.

This year, all I want for Christmas is B.

Bridget Jones Aint Got Nothin On Me

Nobody said the magic words...

'I like you, just the way you are.'

But, it was close enough. Ok, it wasn't close at all, but I'll take it!

After asking me about my New Years plans, B proposed I come with him. In response to my disclaimer on the price of the tickets he said...

'As a bday/xmas gift, I can definitely cover the cost for us getting in (if you wanna make dinner some time, we'll call it square).'

Instead of Mr. Darcy, perhaps I should start calling him Big?

How easy for him to just write off the cost for two very expensive New Year's Eve tickets?! And, how lucky for me?! This is the most expensive gift I've ever received from a gentle-fellow, especially one whom I'm supposedly only 'casually' dating. The feminist inside is having trouble swallowing her ego. But, at least he's giving me an opportunity to kill him with a meal cooked by yours truly?!

And, just when 'Mr. I don't want a relationship' starts acting interested, guess who else does?

Yep, the ex.

Haven't we already done this?

This time I had to hear it, so I choked down my pride and asked why he was contacting me.

'Because he wants to know I am doing well and happy.'

Huh? Funny he didn't care about me when my life was up in flames? And, equally interesting that he mentioned talking to people about me, my work, and my whereabouts. I have not and may not ever reciprocate.

I was surprisingly numb to the entire experience and perhaps it is in part because of my current beau. But, if we are to take B out of the equation, perhaps it is more about my growth as a lover, artist and friend over the last 2 years. I love the reflection time at the end of the year, especially when it starts feeling like everything, in the end, may pay off.

Yes, We're Going To A Party Party!

Friday night my parentals, sister, and I celebrated my birth with drinks at Cure and dinner at Patois. An absinthe and gin cocktail plus moules frites at dinner put me over the edge! Bliss.

The third food coma of my vacation ensued shortly there after.

Saturday was the real party! Innocently enough I happen to mention to 20, or so, people that I'd be going out for my birthday. I wasn't expecting to actually see more than about 5. Apparently my birthday was just a great excuse for a mini-high-school reunion and bar crawl. Needless to say, I saw way too many people, drank way too much alcohol, and stayed out way past my bedtime...in other words, I had a great night!

Turkey Baby

The pie turned out pretty tasty!

I can't really say the same for the dinner conversation. Another year, and, despite my improved attitude there is little hope for a normal thanksgiving in my house. Or, maybe it is normal, since none of us get along?

My puppy, who thinks I'm her litter-mate (judging by her reaction to me at the airport), has been my saving grace. She was without a doubt the most pleased to see me, and has kept me occupied, allowing me to stay out of as much drama, as possible.

Tomorrow's my birthday and the only hype I'm gearing up for is a celebration with my friends on Saturday night. Hopefully the last few months have been an indication of a better year ahead. And, I'm thankful for another year with my grandmother, living in a beautiful city, a beau in my life, amazing friends, and the independence to live my life in the happiest way I can.

MANipulation (the saga continues)

After playing it cool for a few days I did what every friend told me not to do, and thank goodness I did. I agreed to meet B for a drink.

Thursday night we met around 9 at a place aptly called La Trappe. I was bursting with confidence, repeating a mantra of 'What do I want? What do I expect? What can I compromise?,' and tottering around in my 3 inch heels.

B was there when I arrived and we headed downstairs to the trendier part of the restaurant and bar. There was a quick apology about Sunday from B, after we sat down. But, I knew he hadn't eaten dinner yet and felt a little on edge myself. I decided to see where the conversation went and breech the confrontational part after at least half my drink. We ordered beers from the vast Belgian beer selection, fries, and B got a beer-braised rabbit stew.

It took a very long time for our food to arrive, but we were having great conversation. I haven't laughed that hard in a while. So, one beer turned to two, and by the time the check came I was ready to lay it all on the table.

First I tackled the Sunday situation. It turns out he had no intention of messing with me, he's just an idiot. He informed me that in the future he'd rather I call straight away to save confusion, grief, and honesty. Then we moved on to what was going on between us, and where it is going. Apparently B has never casually dated. So, we came up with our definition of what we expect from one another and how we are going to work it. How very adult? The best part of the discussion came when B said, '...You deserve a lot of attention, I know I can't give you that right now, and I don't want to hurt you.' (music to my ears)

Our treaty states that 'we will see each other every other week (although more often is always welcome, just not required), we will talk at least once a week, when we have an issue, or want to change the terms, we immediately speak up, and we are free to date other people.' The best part is that I have a guaranteed date with someone I really enjoy, the freedoms of single girl life, and knowing that regardless the two of us will be friends.

I was weak in the knees by the end of the evening. B looked especially handsome, we were both fairly intoxicated, and when he left it was just a kiss on the cheek. But, I'm pretty sure I started to melt. I've decided he doesn't mean harm; he's just really clueless sometimes. And, when I wake up the next morning to a text telling me what a good time he had, too, I know I'm not imagining everything.

Curve Ball

So I'm officially no longer living in Black & White or Color...IT IS GRAY!!! 7 shades of gray according to my drawing scales.

I just received a text from B.

Is this guy kidding?!!!

Buddy, Save the Drama for ya Mama. This chic can NOT handle this.

Since when did boys become more complicated than girls?!!!

Where In The World Did My Mojo Go?

So, I'm home from a long day in Berkeley. It was a hot day as we made our way through campus and town. Much like Bloomington there is a main street with stores, restaurants, and hipply clad college students. We saw the exhibit which turned out to be sort of a bust, but then again it was free...

The main purpose of the expedition was to see photographs of the Beatles from 'Mad Day Out.' Turns out there were about 20 photographs. They were really interesting shots, and while there weren't many; they said so much about each Beatle individually. We practically broke into the building to see them, so it was reward enough even though there were few.

Aside from today, I had drinks last night and was supposed to hear from B about a possible rendez-vous tonight. I obviously did not. If he didn't want to see me, why not just say so?! I don't plan on contacting him in the near future, so consequentially guess that is over. I would love an explanation or closure, but that probably requires balls he doesn't have.

So, I'm back on the shelf with all the other goodies. Only lately I don't feel myself. My happy-go-lucky man getting powers seem to have disappeared along with B's interest in me. Should I go around taking bizarre pictures of myself like the Beatles? How did Stella get her groove back? And, if not how...when?

Whirlwind of a Week

Basic recap of the following week:

More confusion after not hearing from B.

Canadian visitor Monday and Tuesday.

Dinner with Canadian visitor and room mate at Flora in the Fillmore.

Got sick.

Broke down and texted B.

Slept.

Trying to be patient. (Found my New Year's Resolution)

Slept some more.

Feeling a little better.

Looking forward to my 1st trip to Berkeley tomorrow!

Dazed & Confused

Wednesday night was the reunion with B.

He picked me up, he bought me a drink, and he took me home...all things that would imply 'date' to anyone normal. But, he never mentioned what happened 2 weeks ago, or what is going to happen in the future?!

What he did mention was that he brewed some beer for me to try, wants to take me surfing again, and that he's been transferred to the San Fran office for Fridays every week(meaning 2 hours of commute eliminated once a week).

The evening ended when he dropped me off at home, with only the suggestion that I let him know when I am free next, an awkward hug, and that it was great to see me.

What the HELL does this all mean?!

I'm just as much in the dark now, as ever!

Calling All Saints

I'm going to need their help this November, both the NFL team and

the ethereal beings of another world.

In the mean time, enjoy the pictures from this weekend.

(Notice the orange balloons for both Halloween and the Giants)

(St. Peter and Paul Cathedral...the address is 666)

I like this building, because it reminds me of the Disney mirrors from

Snow White and the 7 Dwarfs and Beauty and the Beast.

I wonder what Alfred Hitchcock would think?

And, for no other reason than I get to live here,

even on the rainy days.

The Hills Of San Francisco

In case you do not know, it is really hill-y here. It's been great for getting me into shape, would be dangerous in an ice storm, and seems to be the direction my life has turned (that being both downhill and uphill, at the same time).

Today I received word on the grant. I did not get it. I'm let down, but looking at some of the winners I can see why I didn't win

(note: some...NOT all).

I guess the security in paying back my grad school loans and getting my foot in the door is going to have to wait.

The uphill portion of my week includes a drink with one of my best college friends tonight. Her timing couldn't be better

(mid-break-up(?) and the night of some bad news).

I wish I was in a better mood, so I could show her a good time. All I really feel like doing is curling up in a ball to sleep the week away...

Spooked

After a weekend of internalizing the B situation, hanging out with class mates, and catching up on school work, I'm feeling a little better about myself. Remembering I can survive all on my own is becoming easier and feels pretty good. I think I am growing up!! Scary!

Friday night had me pretty freaked out, but B and I came to a compromise. We are going to give it a slower, more casual, shot in a little over a week. We have a date set for the night the band (we met at) is playing.

The best news is that I'm not the reason B is spooked. It seems the last year I took learning all about myself, is actually what he's in the middle of now. I hope he can figure out what's important soon. I like him enough to wait...but, I'm just not sure how long.

Untitled

The honeymoon just ended...

B basically broke up with me.

He's taking the weekend to discover whether he has time to spend with someone on a regular basis, or not. I really like him, so while we haven't known each other long, I am pretty upset.

In an email entitled by my own mother:

Frogs: We have to kiss a lot of them.

B is home this weekend, actually called me from the airport with the bad news. M & T helped analyze the situation for me, but the outcome does not look good.

I guess the San Francisco fall gloom has officially set in. With school becoming tougher, a part time job started, and a lover...something's gotta give, right?

Worn Blogger, Wanton Sex Goddess

I may not be the one with the 'super powers,' but I deserve at least 1/2 of the credit. It does take two to tango, as they say...

Another night of un-godly pleasures. This man is un-freaking-believable. I can't give him all the credit, though. I mean I have been studying up on my 77 sex moves (thanks Cosmo blog), for I dunno....like a year?!

B leaves for a weekend at home tomorrow, so I'm glad we could fit a little play time into our busy schedules. And, besides literally opening up, he also did some of the figurative kind, too. No matter how ungirly I try to be, the honesty just makes me weak in the knees. I think I'll miss him this weekend, but let's face it...My ladybits need a rest!

Cloudy With A Chance of Happiness

Today is the first day of the rainy season. A mist of sprinkles surrounds the cloudy San Francisco skyline, but it's sunny and warm in my soul.

Living with two guys (despite their sexual preferences) is wearing on me, especially when I come home to a sink full of dishes everyday. So, after a mild expression of my frustrations Friday, B took me out, away from my troubles at home.

We wined and dined together, even running into my friend L, who I had dinner with the night before. We spent the night together, and the next morning, post-grocery run, B made me breakfast. I rushed off to a yoga class and continued my afternoon in a superior, productive mood.

Later that evening I met up with B and a few of his friends. I enjoyed meeting two of the musicians from the previous weekend's jazz ensemble and experienced a very drunk B for the first time....Not sure how much I loved that, but I'm sure I'm not a whole lot better. I stayed over again, because for now our time together is only weekends, and next weekend he'll be home.

We woke up, got bagels, and went for a long walk in the dreary Sunday, stay-all-day-in-bed weather. As we talked about my dream dog (I saw one earlier in the week) and the beautiful Victorian homes we'd like to own one day, I realized just how much I like this guy. I can verify he likes me back, but now the challenge is making these feelings last.

Hope the rain doesn't wash it all away, but for now my feelings are here to stay...

Love Is In The Air

I'm going through each day's malaise daydreaming about B. I told him we need to take it slow, but I think I like him a lot...uh, oh. I'm in trouble.

8 Degrees of Seperation

On Friday night B came over. After a bottle of wine, some cheese, conversation, and a movie there is no longer a debate on whether he likes me, we're dating, or his junk size. B and I enjoyed a pretty sleepless night together...literally breaking my bed.

Saturday we both had friends in town, so he left, and I worked on making myself presentable. My friends were actually two guys from my ex's band and one of their friends. One of the two guys is the person who introduced me to B and lives in Berkley. I showed them around, and then we grabbed beers and burgers down the street from my apartment. I brought them to my favorite cliff for a view, and then they came over for more drinks. It wasn't until B showed up two hours later that things got awkward.

My room mates, guests, B, and I were just hanging around drinking. I could tell B was a little uncomfortable. We left shortly after he arrived for a bar in the mission. At the bar we met up with a bunch of their friends(Their, in this case meaning B and my friends from out of town). It turns out even in SF, everyone knows everyone. It was at this point in the night, B decided to confront me...

He started just asking how I knew them, and before long my entire ex-saga was out on the table. Humiliated, I sat there and drank my beer. B pretended to let it roll off, but I know it was bothering him.

We went to their friend's jazz gig down the street, ate some mexican, and then headed home. Well, I headed to B's. We spent another night together, attempting actual sleep this time.

This morning he brought up the whole ex thing again. I'm not exactly sure what he's so curious about, but I'm not positive I'm ready for him to know so much. It's all getting so serious so fast. And, now that he's made some of the connections, I'm worried what he'll think of me.

I really like B. He treats me well. He's smart. He's attractive. A total nerd. And, he's humble. I'm just terrified of getting hurt again, and I'm not ready for a future husband.

Pearls of Wisdom

I had a mini melt down today, and as always my mom was there...thousands of miles away...listening.

Sometimes her idea of listening is closer to an inquisitive devil's advocate. But, today she understood. I'm not going into my personal problems, because they are trivial in the larger scheme of life. But, this is what she had to say:

'The only constant in life is that it keeps changing.'

I'm not convinced she was the first person to say this. It had to be Plato, Einstein, or somebody, right?! But, there is so much truth in these words.

My life has changed so much every day, for what seems like years. And, as I grow up (despite all my efforts to remain faithful to Peter Pan and the Lost Boys) it becomes more clear. It is up to me to keep up with life, life is not keeping up with me...it's leading the way, along a path, that one day ends.

The 6 Week Blues

I'm nearing my 6th week here, and just like many times before I'm feeling a little blue. The novelty, excitement, and free time start to wear away, and I'm left missing home, friends, and family.

School is starting to intensify, so I'm trying to relax and stay on track. I've seen an improvement in my art skills already, which is really gratifying. But, I'd be lying if I didn't say it's exhausting. Hours spent drawing leaves me with little energy for physical activity, which probably isn't helped by skipped meals. Not just poverty is the cause for what I like to call Artist Anorexia.

I'm looking forward to another busy weekend with a few college friends. Haven't heard from B all week, so I'm more confused than ever on that front. Either he makes moves at a snails pace, he's just not that into me, or he only wants to be friends. Whatever will be, will be...I guess? I shouldn't even be thinking about it, but I can't say it wouldn't be nice if he called.

* Sometimes wishes really do come true....shortly after writing this, I got a text from B.

'You Say It's Your Birthday?!'

'It's my birthday, too...yeah

They say it's your birthday

We're gonna have a good time

I'm glad it's your birthday?'

And, it's not just the lyrics to a Beatle's song.

During a total of 12 hours with B yesterday, we discovered we share

the

exact

same

birthday?!

I had to look at his license before I believed him.

Same month. Same day. Same year.

I think we are both a little weirded out by this. He's actually calling his mom today to find out exactly what time he was born, so we can verify we are indeed not twins separated at birth. He also used his mathematical genius to calculate that if the average life time is 70 years we are 1 of 500,000 with that birthday.

At least I have someone to share a birthday party with, right?...

Can someone verify that this isn't strange and incestuous, please?!

F*** My Worn Blogger Life!

It is only 9:48 am and already my day is F***ed...

I just woke up, got on gmail, and get a gchat from none other than ....dun dah dun dun....

drum roll please!....

The EX!

I finally meet someone new and he has to but into my life? I know I'm putting off the happy vibe, but that can not radiate all the way to Chicago. What the hell is going on?!!!

I have not spoken to him in over a year. This was the brief interlude, before I freaked and logged out:

JW: herro there (what are we old friends?)

Sent at 9:33 AM on Thursday

me: hi? (hi? as in, why the hell did you decide to reach me?)

JW: how are you? (i was great until you fucked up my day)

me: fantastic (so good in fact, maybe you should stay out of my life)

Sent at 9:39 AM on Thursday

JW: Right on (who do you think you are?! oh, right...you don't know the answer to that.)

Let me conclude by saying I will be seeing 2 of his friends next weekend. 2 people I miraculously stayed in touch with, and one who actually introduced me to B. That being said, I am not angry at JW, just perhaps annoyed...and very confused.

Anniversorry

I'm a day late...

but Happy Anniversary!

Thanks to all my readers, who have stuck with me for one, very, worn inside out year!

Surfs Up

This is just part of the view from where I was SURFING today!

It started out a super foggy day with really choppy waves. I never actually got up, because of the water. And, by the time the waves calmed, I had already brought my wetsuit and board back to the rental place.

I didn't go at this 'bucket-list' venture alone. I went with one of the guys I met at the Ash Reiter show over a week ago. Let's call him B. And, let's start at the Beginning...

B picked me up, and drove me 'Miss Daisy' style out to Linda Mar beach in Pacifica, seeing as his board took up shotgun and the rest of the car. We got each other's life stories by the time we hit the rental shop, where I had the embarrassment of putting my wetsuit on backwards. (I'm pretty sure he may never let me live this down.)

We made it to the beach, where he did his best not to laugh as the waves took me down, over and over again. After I drank my share of saltwater I sat and watched him try to show off. Fortunately for me, B is not that good.

We changed out of our wetsuits and ate the smorgasbord of a picnic we both packed. By this point the sun had finally burned all the fog off and the waves were starting to calm. The view was incredible, and I'm pretty sure this was more of what he had in mind.

We decided to ditch the beach and meet some of his friends at Dolores Park, back in the city. We got pretty lost, eventually made it there, hung out with a few of his friends for a bit, and then came home.

We're all going to Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival next weekend, and I'm already counting down the days! I had such a great time with him, and I'm not sure what to make of it?! Friend? Lover? I'm not sure yet. I do know you can't hide much in a wetsuit. I also know in typical worn blogger style he's a SoCal boy with a one syllable name. Guess, we'll see where this one goes?!

In the meantime, COW-A-BUNGA DUDE!

No More 2nd Chances

So...I took T up on his offer to meet this week, and we went to dinner last night. Even though I had a very short amount of time to prepare. I dressed, in the hopes we were going somewhere nice. He picked me up, and one look at his tennis shoe and fleece clad body lead me to believe we weren't. Then, I was at least hoping for some cool local dive.

Alas, we end up at a small, trendy, restaurant with no atmosphere, and an order at the register, eat fast, and get out of here attitude. He ordered water, which on any date makes it super awkward, and then saw a huge table of guys he knows sitting right behind us, facing me the entire time. Can we say awkward?

I was doing my best to enjoy my way too healthy of a burger (all kinds of organic nonsense and way over cooked). But, the conversation was just not there. I tried as hard as I could, but when I tried to explain a project I'm working on and was met with a blank stare; I gave up.

He ended up dropping me off at home, but not after offering to take me bowling with his friends. Yes, bowling. And, not even in the city. A drink at a bar, I would've done. Bowling an hour away, No.

I came home seeking privacy and peace, and was only met with the Frat my apartment has turned into. These 2 Canadian guests are already wearing on me, and they've only been here one night.

Moral of My Story: I'm really over guys right now.

Fools Gold

After a weekend of partying hard, I lay in my bed Sunday night thinking about the upcoming week. Me and T (Britex Heir) were set to meet Monday night for the Saints v. 49ers game, Canadian visitors are arriving Wednesday, and I already have weekend plans. That's when my phone rang...

T: Hello

Me: Yea, Hi.

T: So....You may never want to speak to me again when you hear what I'm about to say. (very serious tone of voice) You still there?

Me: (immediately going through my head: he's married, going to jail, murdered someone, a complete phony, etc...) Yea, I'm sitting down. What is it?

T: (deep inhalation) I got a ticket to the game. (silence) Hello?

Me: (sigh of relief)

T: Hello? Are you ok?

Me: That's it?! I thought you were married or something?! (I have a vivid imagination)

T: (laughing) You What?!!!! Oh, that's good. Well, I am NOT married, and I know I'm really going to have to make this up to you.

Me: Yea, that sounds about right. If I got a ticket, I'd go. Have fun, I guess?

T: So, you aren't mad? What can I do to make this up to you?

Me: Wear black and gold to the game. Photo-documentation will do. Jumbotron scores you bonus points.

T: Seriously?! You know I can't do that?!!

Me: Well, that's what I'd be doing if I got to go...

T and I went on to talk briefly about how he got the ticket and when we could possibly meet up later this week. The latter of which is still TBD. Let's just say he got my adrenaline pumping, and I haven't been fooled like that in a long time. T may just get a second chance.

Ooo Bay-by!

Thursday night I went to SFMOMA!

My friend, L, who went to undergrad with me, works for Gap and gets free entry. We looked at art for an hour, which alone would've made my week. Then, we went up to the rooftop where the museum was hosting an event. There was free beer, a bunch of her friends, and a foggy night.

(note: fog does even less for your hair than humidity. gross)

I primarily enjoyed the art...well, and of course one long conversation with one of her gentle-fellow friends. He just graduated from his own masters, is of course a Californian, wants to save the planet, looks a little like Mr. Bingley from Pride & Prejudice (Keira Knightley version), and I'm smitten.

I never expected to come here and meet so many amazing people, and most of them male. As a general habit, I usually remain friends with most guys. Maintaining that is beginning to get difficult. Nothing substantial has happened with any of my 'suitors' yet, but let's just say I'm tempted...ok, very tempted.

(Girls, the vibe I'm selling is called Happiness. If I could bottle it and sell it, I would.)

Follow The Yellow Brick Road

I've been wearing my red boots often, but I won't be clicking my heels together for some time.

I wonder when the colors will dull and the sand in my hourglass will run out?

Perhaps, this path is the golden one?

Yesterday, I went to a yoga class, at a store called Lucy's (basically a Lululemon competitor). The store has an outdoor patio, where we lied on our backs under the morning sun. Above our heads, lemons hung from a tree, birds were buzzing from flower to flower, and several humming birds, parrots, and sea gulls flew across the azure sky.

After class I went on a hike with the fabric store heir. He picked me up in his car, and we headed across the Golden Gate Bridge to Marin. We hiked a popular path out there called the Tennessee Valley (pictured above). You start inland, and work your way towards the water (featured below).

He came prepared with water bottles, fruit, and cliff bars. It was kinda cute, but I think I would have preferred a bottle of wine and chocolate. Beggars can't be choosers (as they say). His company was nice, but I'm still unsure of any significant feelings. I'm going out with him again for dinner some time, so we'll see how it goes.

Coming home I was famished and exhausted. When he dropped me off, I went to eat at a nearby french cafe (that I have frequented 4x this week already), I saw there was something going on at the park. Turned out 'Amelie' was showing for free at 8! I ran home, changed into warmer clothes, and came back to claim a spot. A few hours later my room mates (who I enjoyed getting to know a little better the night before) arrived.

This Emerald city is my American Dream.

Is Mercury In Retrograde?

I don't know much about astronomy. But, I sure do feel a sense of shifting orbits.

Life is good.

A few classes in, I'm getting a sense of being back in school. I've met more males in 1 week, than I have in over a year. The weather is cool and sunny. I really can't complain.

Here are some pictures of the planet we live on...and, the place I can now call home.

Downtown (from the cliff by my apt)

Coit Tower (also from the cliff)

Ok, I do not live at Alcatraz...

but, isn't this mysterious! It's late afternoon, so the fog is rolling in...

Another one of the bay and Alcatraz

(only this one was taken from an alley way on a very high hill)

Back to School. Back to School. Going to Show Daddy. I'm Not a Fool.

Yesterday was my first day of school.

(I never thought I'd be saying that again, but shit happens...and, I am.)

A quick summary of 1st day observations:

1) Teacher looks like Molly Shannon's sister.

2) 8 hours of drawing is exhausting.

3) 80% of my class is foreign. Of that 80% at least 75% are Chinese. Of that 75% zero speak fluent english. (note: And, I thought I was going to have a tough time keeping up?!)

4) There are 5 females. Only 2 of 5 speak english.

(We are in America, right?)

5) The majority of the class is male. And, by male I mean animation students. And, by animation students, I mean socially, awkward nerds.

6) Alas, there is one lonely soul of a boy that is worth discussing. And, we shall name him 'Kermit.'

Yes, I know there was another Kermit, nearly a year ago. However, this Kermit, who we hope is not a video-game-playing-hermit, is given this name, not because it was written on a receipt, but because he was actually wearing a Kermit The Frog shirt.

This boy (although 6 feet tall) is the long lost (younger) twin to a good friend's boyfriend. And, I say boy, because we eye-fucked the entire class, and yet, when I tried to talk to him he became even more socially awkward.

When will I learn?

*sigh*

Never.

The Wild Wild West

Yesterday I went to a famous fabric store. I went to find some cheap fabric to cover the couch my room mates gave me. I didn't find any (affordable) fabric, but I did get a guy's number.

How many people do you know, have been hit on (more than once) in a fabric store by straight men?!

None?

Didn't think so.

This young fellow happens to be the stores owner.

Can we say fabric for life?!!

Ok, maybe I'm getting ahead of myself...

Anyways, he gave me his number and offered to show me around. I'm waiting a few days, but then I'm going to give him the 'You don't prey on all new young girls in the city. Do you?!'

Tomorrow is my first day of class, so the real adventure is about to unfold...

All's Quite On The Western Front

I'm officially (almost) all moved in to my new SF apartment! My mom left today, and aside from the very stressful few days, I already love it here!

My new place is 1 block from China town, 1 block from a cliff (that if hiked straight up (similar to Cinque-terre in Italy) continues my street), about 15-20 minute walk to Fisherman's wharf, and a few blocks from a church, a park, and Little Italy. I am also sharing my apartment with a gay couple, who are very nice and will be referred to as M & T. They are not the least bit flamboyant, just prefer each other to women. And, if all of that wasn't enough, all the walking up hills is going to give me buns of steel in less than 2 weeks!

Last night was my orientation, where I met the head of my department, heard a few speeches, and watched a slide show of unbelievable student work. I almost cried it was so phenomenal. My department chair has already singled me out, informed 4 other students not to talk to me, and deemed me as competition. Therefor, I can safely say I'm going to be the loner of my class. Great.

I also got to hear a speech from an ex-49er player turned film director that I should compare myself to a Jedi. Another Great.

And, to top it all off, the student population is 85% asian, 10% gay, 4% minority, 1% attractive male prospect (that one guy, was also on crutches). Can I get another Grrrrreat?

Well, at least I get a few days to settle in to my apartment, learn my way around, and catch up with a few friends. This city is nothing like New York, and so far, I am in love. Plenty of free stuff to do, amazing food, and beautiful weather. No one is walking head down, ipod on, and giving you the death stare. It is just the opposite. They say hello and even...smile! I believe I may be converting to California-ism.

Katrina Revolution

5 years ago, I was a freshman in college. I was in a new town, with new people, and starting a new life. And, then, 48 hours later, I thought my entire past had been wiped away. Returning home that Christmas was heart breaking. New Orleans was a town burnt out and demolished beyond repair. But, from disaster comes enlightenment. A whole city was reborn.

Today is my first day as a California resident (although I am still homeless). I am once again in a new town, with new people, and starting a new life. But, a lot has changed. My past has been rebuilt. My hometown has reinvented itself, and I have been trying to do the same. You can't forget your past, but you can do your best to improve it.

As I watch the sun come up, still unaccustomed to the time change, I can't help but think about where I've come from and where I've been. It's a long road we are all on. A road to recovery. Recovery of our souls, our health, our senses, and in the end, our happiness.

Professional Nomad

If this was a job title, I might actually be qualified.

4 moves, 1 year, and less than 24 hours before my plane takes off.

Until then....

Hang 10, and see you on the flip side!

Fish & Fog

My last week home is about to start. It's a bittersweet feeling I've become accustomed to, complete with last minute rendez-vous, procrastination packing, and a cold. The summer flew by, and just when I was starting to feel at ease, a whole series of obstacles is waiting in the midst.

The fog of San Francisco awaits, while a thick fog has settled over my brain. The unknown people, housing, and classes are just beyond my reach. And, once again, I need to muster up some bravery to excel outside my boundaries. This time it seems the most difficult. In the past my ignorance was bliss, now it feels more like a hinderance. I've grown much more attached to my roots, and now I'm forced to extend all my branches...even blossom?

In the meantime, I'd like to take a breath, but it seems my sinuses are keeping me from doing that, too. A fish out of water is how I feel. And, for the time being, a fish out of water; I will remain.

Follow Up, Up, & Away

This weekend was fan-flippin-tastic!

Friday night I enjoyed a relaxing Greek dinner with my family, after a long day babysitting 'Jumpin' Jack Flash.' Before the day with him was through he imparted several bits of wisdom, including 'I have control of my balls.'

Saturday I did some yoga, sewing, and relaxing before a decadent night! I went to my grandmother's 89th birthday dinner at Ralph's On The Park, a local Brennan owned restaurant on the edge of City Park.

After dinner I went with a few people to see our friend, Will, (the one whose car I was in, but not with, a few weeks ago...also an excellent musician) play an acoustic set at a home-style coffee shop. The Neutral Ground, as it is called, is right behind my high-school, and walking in brought back a lot of memories. It is the ultimate bohemian breeding ground with 60's and 70's band posters, local art, and funky furniture lining the walls.

After his set, we all headed down to Frenchman, to see The Revivalists, the same band as 2 weeks prior at Tipitina's. It wasn't until we were at the bar, drinks in hand, that I decided to tackle the escapade with Will's friend. 2 weeks had gone by, and we still hadn't spoken on the matter.

Me: 'Ok, so....What do you know?'

Will: 'Everything.'

Me: 'Ok, great. Let's hear it!'

The night continued with little controversy over the matter. He seemed more amused than anything. Thank goodness! It wasn't until after hours of dancing that Will brought it up again.

Will: 'So, let me hear it again! What else happened?!'

Me: 'Huh? You mean the other night?'

Will: 'Yea, There has to be more to the story! Come on!'

Me: 'I don't think there is!'

(The story was re-hashed, yet again. When it came to the part about the car, this is what happened)

Me: 'Listen, I'm really sorry.'

Will: 'Why?! Don't be sorry! My friend said he had a great time! He loved both bands, and he had fun with you!'

Me: (blushing) 'Yea, I meant I'm sorry about your car.'

Will: 'Oh! haha! You know how many people I've hooked up with in the back of that car?!'

Me: 'Well, I'm glad we can share that experience now.'

That was the end of it, until we were dropping him off at his house, and the last thing he screams is:

'Have a good night you guys! And, (worn inside out), so glad you hooked up with my best friend! Thanks!'

No, Will, Thank you! So glad we are still on good terms! He really was the one doing me a favor.

Sunday I woke up exhausted from hours of dancing and spent the afternoon preparing for a yoga workshop for next weekend. I hope all these good vibes come with me on my journey westward in 2 weeks!!!

Grantacular!

As I finish up my grant application this week, I decided you may want to see what I've been working on...

Here is the inspiration!

And, here are some of the illustrations...

California Here I Cum!

So, I finally have a little scandal to talk about!!

Friday night was a long awaited Revivalist's concert and reunion with some high school friends. I purposely scheduled tomorrow's oral surgery after this event, knowing it would be epic....and it was.

We went to Tipitina's, stopping for a quick beverage down the street at Miss Mae's. Miss Mae's is usually a late night stop, so starting our evening there should be the first hint.

We got to Tipitina's, where a friend of a friend was going to meet me. The guy I know is out of town, but his friend was down here visiting. I texted him that I was there and wearing a bright, floral dress. As about six of us walked in, I wasn't paying much attention...until someone said my name, and a finger was pointing in my direction.

It was my friend Arianne. He had mistaken her for me, as she was also wearing a flowery print. She said when she saw him, she immediately thought, 'No, I'm not _(worn inside out)_, but she will be glad to see you!' Needless to say, a tall, tan, blond curly haired, man was standing in front of me. JACKPOT!

We hit it off, talking about spontaneous adventures, world travels, and California. Because, wouldn't ya know?! He's a drummer from San Diego, who studied Ecology. FML.

Talking lead to more drinking....drinking lead to watching the band....watching the band lead to dancing....dancing lead to grinding....grinding lead to making out...

...and that's when we took it outside.

My car was parked too far away to walk, but he said his (meaning our mutual out of town friend's) was down the street. We got about half way when he slammed me up against someone else's car and kissed me hard.

Begin soft porn novel.

We got to our friends car, hopped inside, and started going at it, as my nearly naked ass was facing a main street directly across from the bar. We were in the heat of the moment...literally. Can you say Hot Mess?!

We were going at it, until he stopped me...and my memory is a bit gray. I believe I must have been sweating buckets and hardly breathing, because it's about 100 degrees here, and we were inside of a car, without the air conditioning on. He turned on the air, after stopping me, because I must have been about to faint. Foggy windows are an understatement, unless they look like the ones in Titanic. I opened the window and the air outside was cooler than in the car!

We decided to stop, got out of the car, and walked back in for some water. It was literally too hot to fuck. We closed our tabs and came back outside, where we spent the next 20 minutes chatting. Then he decided to tell me his flight was at 7:40 am (it is nearing 2 or 3 am), and that he better get going. He kissed me softly, one last time, and then left.

I walked back to the bar, caught up with my friends, and hung with the band for a few minutes. We went back to Miss Mae's with a few people and then home. It was an amazing night, until I got up the next day, when a hamburger couldn't even cure my hangover!

The Big Bad Bitch

Between apartment hunting, babysitting a kid I like to call Jack the Ripper, and enjoying my last few days of solid food for a while, I've been concentrating on a grant application.

This grant means more to me right now, than just about anything.

1) because it is worth $25,000.

2) because the judges are 15 famous artists, designers, and musicians.

Only 25 people will receive this grant, so I've been spending HOURS working on a new portfolio of designs. Letters of recommendation are a requirement for this competition, too, and until today I thought I would only have any from college professors.

Much to my surprise I received an email from my old boss at the fashion label that shall not be named. Once I got over the shock of actually receiving said letter, I decided to read it. The Big Bad Bitch that I once worked for wrote, what may be, one of the best letters of recommendation I have ever received. The Devil really does wear Isaac. Ooops!

I guess selling my soul for 6 months will be worth it, if I receive $25,000 in return. Wish me luck!

The Doctor Is In

The harsh realities of life have returned.

The friend I was going to live with in California has bailed, and once again, my faith in humanity weakens. After two weeks of intense planning, she did what most people do...what is best for her.

HOW CAN YOU NOT THINK ABOUT THE OTHER PERSON (or people) INVOLVED?!!!

I am now struggling to find student housing and have less than a month to do so.

Lesson Learned: You can NOT trust anyone, except maybe your parents.

The other realities in my life revolve entirely around my health. Routine doctor visits have left my sense of good health in despair. The gyno put me on a series of pills to cure a multitude of problems. The dentist is trying to save my teeth from future damage. And, now I have an appointment for oral surgery at the beginning of August. My body is falling apart, one piece at a time, and I didn't even know.

The kicker: It is almost all from stress.

The only real answer to all of my current problems is to move to a beach and never step more than 100 feet away from an ocean. Considering the closest beaches are probably covered in tar balls, that option is pretty mute.

So, I'm just going to have to keep on living. No matter how bad each day is, it can always be worse. And, no matter how bad it is when we go to bed, we will almost always wake up the next morning. Life just has to go on, but gosh dammit I wish it could be a little more fun.

Cruisin' For a Bruisin'

...And, I return to civilization!

I believe I was in heaven for a week at the end of June! Then, with my decision to go back to school in the fall and work on a grant proposal, my mind has been elsewhere...

So, let me get you all back up to speed:

I spent a week biking through Northern California. It was a beautiful way to experience the countryside, and a surprisingly, easy trip with my family. One of my sisters, my brother(engaged as of today!!), my parents, and myself biked from Sonoma, to Bodega Bay, through the Redwood Forest, and out to Healdsburg.

We ate. We drank. We Biked.

...and, I fell...

The 3rd day was a 44 mile ride from Bodega Bay, along Highway 1, onto Highway 116 into the Redwoods, and then back out of the forest to Madrona Manor, where we spent the night. That morning somewhere along Highway 1, after my fear of 18-wheelers and lumber trucks was realized, I hopped in the van.

I started biking again at the water stop, only to find out later I missed the hardest part of the week...and, what my dad later referred to as a mirage: appearing to be one thing: flat, and instead finding a series of rather steep hills. When I got on my bike I was ready to transcend the forest! Feeling the courage of the Lion in Oz and humming Harry Potter theme music as we entered the 100 foot trees.

We were less than a mile from lunch, in the midst of the forest, when my fear of fast cars and semis came to a raging stop! Literally. A car came within a foot of my bike, I swirved to the right(away from traffic), hit a bump, in the shade, and my bike came out from under me. I let out a cry for my mom, who was about 20 feet ahead of me.

Mostly shaken up, mulch down my pants, gravel and dirt everywhere, and starting to sob, a few of the other bikers in our group came to my aid. My right hip/ but cheek was swelling, stinging, and turning a bright red, along with a cut on my right arm that began oozing almost immediately. I told everyone to keep riding, including my mother, who by this point was insisting I just get back on my bike! If you haven't met my mom, she is kind of a hard ass...and a 5'1'' 100 lb. tank.

I waited for the van, got in for the 2nd time that day, and was icing my hip by lunch. If it wasn't for the amazing leader, Johnathan, I may not have gotten back on my bike again. He helped me conquer my fear and rode with me (side by side) the rest of the afternoon. Without his great conversation, guidance, and confidence, I may not have made it through the next few days.

The bruise quickly turned from red, to a kaleidoscope of blues, greens, and blacks, which have all since disappeared. The cut scabbed, but is now merely a scar, a tattooed reminder of my trip out west and a fun family adventure!

California Dreamin'

I leave for California in 1 day!!!!!

Tomorrow night is my last night here for a week, and my last dinner with my best friend before her trip to Europe! She's never been, so I am very excited for her (...and, yea, a little jealous). Well, not too jealous 'cause, I'm going to CALIFORNIA! I'll be biking, drinking wine, and taking in the chill lifestyle with my family. See you on the flip side!

Make New Friends, But Keep The Old

One is silver, and the other gold.

Well, that's how the song goes, but so far I've mostly spent time catching up with my old buddies. I guess that's what happens after you spend a year in NY meeting billions of people.

2 weeks ago was a dinner with a bunch of the girls I used to dance with. I at one point was a ballerina. That one point lasted give or take 19 years. We were missing 2 from our 'group,' but the once-a-year dinner was a great time for catching up.

Wednesday night was a similar event, since I decided to attend my old dance studio's recital. I watched the 1st (and only number) my best friend Alison was in, before high-tailing it to an amazing concert! We saw Brahms, Passion Pit, and Tokyo Police Club!!! It was fantastic! I will admit that Techno-beat dance music is normally not my thing. However, live it turns out, they are not synthesizing nearly as much as I thought! Actually, the lead singer in Passion Pit really does have a falsetto that sounds just like the recorded versions. Go figure.

Last night was yet another catch up time with a few classmates from my high school. We ate dinner, listened to a live jazz band, and got caught up (on the mostly uneventful) stages in our lives.

All of the above was fun, but I always wonder what a lot of people from my past are doing and where they are? It's often funny when the encounters of reconnection occur. Coming home I did not expect nearly so many people to be passing through and permanently living here. As they say, 'It all happens for a reason?'

Family Tree

One of the best finds in my grandmother's house so far is a record player.

Before (at her apt):

I'm currently listening to the original recording of My Fair Lady with Julie Andrews. It was one, among several, musicals and classical records still hidden inside. It is hard to clean out a grand parent's residence of 20+ years, but we are lucky she is still around. So many things and pictures need explanations, and I've had the pleasure of hearing them straight from her mouth.

After (in my room):

But, it all hasn't been fun and games. We have come across many gross and sad possessions, some destroyed by mold and others belonging to my grandfather before he died almost 30 years ago. A large portion of the objects are being donated, which is both sad and cleansing.

Despite how hard and sometimes dirty this job can be, I am so grateful I got to come home and do it! I have learned more about my family. I feel a sense of accomplishment. And, I am grateful to be with my grandmother while she is doing much better. I am so unbelievably thankful.

The Next Chapter

Have you ever been scared you will turn into one of your parents, both, or some other relative?

If your answer is yes, then you understand where I'm coming from. If your answer is no, then you must be adopted. It is the only genetic and logical way for you to feel otherwise.

Well, I was not adopted.

(However, there was a period when I did question my paternity. At the ripe age of 13 my mom decided to inform me of the 'middle' marriage, in between my sisters' dad and my brother's (and my) dad. That caused enough teen-age angst to stop conversation with her for a week.)

Besides dreaming of being adopted myself, I have vowed, since an equally early age, to adopt my own children. No matter how good looking, smart, artistic, athletic (I could go on) they may be, there are too many children in the world who need parents. There are plenty of unwanted children suffering from irresponsibility and neglect. It may sound pretentious, but I would rather help just one of those kids, than procreate.

...And, that is where the subject of today's blog comes in...parents. It's horrific to see what generation after generation fails to observe. We are exactly like our predecessors, so if we just stop multiplying, there may be some hope.

Fatalist? Maybe.

Daughter? Yes.

My grandmother, as you may already know, is very ill with depression. It is the reason I am home to clean out her 20+ year old apartment and spend some time with her. It is a depression that may have begun during her worries as a child of the Depression. Ironic? I think not. Unfortunately, however, this is a trait that has been passed down from generation to generation. The 'Lurie Worry' as my dad likes to refer to it, Lurie being her married name, my mom's maiden name, and my middle name.

As I watch my grandmother decline mentally, I realize how terrified I am of what I may become. Sure, I do yoga to let go of my anxieties, and sure, I grew up during an economic surplus, but will it all really not matter in the end? As I see her in a different light, I can't help but notice my parents in those new shadows, too.

I guess these are just the things we notice as we become more in sync with life? But, then I think of all my friends who have lost parents. They seem so eager to be just alike in their wake. Is it just another part of the 'greener on the other pasture,' or is it something else? I guess I'm stuck waiting to see, but I'm going to do my damnedest not to worry about it, anymore!

Big Apple Core

It’s only fitting that on my last day in NYC I sat alone, at a starbucks, drawing and musing over the latest issue of Vogue. There is a spread of Jack White and Karen Elson, photographed by Annie Leibowitz, which was the #1 reason I bought the magazine. I love this article, not only because my favorite rock star flanks the pages, but because it is about Karen’s new record and her road to self-discovery. Who wouldn’t want their stories of failures, accomplishments, and passion shared with the rest of the world, while posing in couture gowns with your husband and friends?!

I couldn’t help but ponder my last few inspiring moments of my year in NYC. Alone. Content. And Dreaming of my future. The feeling of confidence I spent 10 months searching for had suddenly appeared, in an instant, accompanied by revelations of destiny and what it means to me. I (perhaps temporarily) no longer felt that the pinnacle of my existence was a 22 year span of success, that within the last year abruptly changed to a life of failure. I had something I didn’t believe existed anymore…I had hope.

I was sad to leave NY, but unexpectedly excited, too. What’s next?...hopefully something great, but equally bad. If nothing else I have learned that the bad can not be ignored, but only received kindly. I will no longer ignore death, sadness, and broken hearts, but confront them head on, with an open mind and an open heart, My views may not change, but I understand how these experiences are what make us whole, or balanced.

The true meaning behind the slogan ‘If you can make it in NY, you can make it anywhere,’ is not about money, fame, and fortune. It is about surviving the ‘struggle.’ My Struggle. It is the process of being alone, learning, and surviving. It is the journey.

…And for now, my journey there has ended.

The LES is just a place to hide; a place to privately dream.

My last two nights in NYC were a lot of fun. Friday night I met my friend Michele for a walk around Soho. We ended up hungry and went to the best 'hole-in-the-wall-southern-style' restaurant in the city. It is called Jones Cafe and was so delicious it gave us the itis. We had cornbread, pulled pork, gumbo, and abita beers in a small room, with dim lighting, a black board menu, and a juke box playing jazz and zydeco. It was very New Orleans style, and I highly recommend it if you want a moderately priced, southern, home cooked meal.

Saturday night was my going away party. I had it at Pink Pony, as mentioned a few blogs earlier. After a bit of trouble with our reservation, the manager came over to introduce himself, explain the mix-up, and offer us a free bottle of wine. The painting above is of his mother and is my favorite part about the restaurant/cafe.

It was great company, a great meal. and we left the restaurant a great gift. The volcano candle holder featured below belonged to my room mates. I brought 'gifts' to dinner, meaning everything I had to get rid of (from toothpaste to the volcano). We left it as pictured, on a shelf in the restaurant. We hope they like it, as much as we did.

After dinner a few of us went further into the LES to a bar called Elsa. I had an S.M. Jenkins, a gin drink served in a jelly jar. But, probably the coolest thing about the bar is the vintage sewing machine where a bar tap would be! Pretty cool. Ok, I'm a nerd. Anyway, when we asked for our check the bar tender forgot, so she ended up taking my drink off the bill!

K: Maybe you shouldn't leave? Free drinks all night probably means you should stay.

Me: A good night, with free drinks, means I am doing the right thing. I think it is time to go.

Apples and Oranges

While I'm trying to say good byes, pack, work, and everything in between I have also made time to see a few visitors in town. One being my sister, and the other being my friend Lauren. My sister is in town for her Visa (now that she has officially moved to London), and my friend Lauren is here on business (after spending the last 10 months in Vietnam).

My sister and I had coffee and saw a small Monet exhibit in a gallery on 10th avenue somewhere, but that is all. Lauren and I had dinner at Penelope (my 'go-to' place). I got to ask her all about her time in Vietnam, her job, love life, the usual... It was really entertaining comparing New York to Vietnam, apparently they are a lot more alike than I would have ever imagined. It may also have to do with how similar our experiences have been. It was fun, but I better get back to packing! There is so much to do before I leave, and I only have 3 more days!!!!

bRoOkLyN

...Or should I call it Broke-lyn? After my day and night yesterday, I'm scared to look in my wallet...

Innocently enough, I traveled to Brooklyn after the miscellaneous furniture had been removed from my apartment by anonymous craigslisters. My first stop was Beacon's Closet, a stupendous vintage store that has become too popular and well-known for it's own good. I heard about it almost 2 years ago, and good merchandise and deals can be found, but it takes a lot more effort. Neither myself, nor my friend Michele, found anything worth while.

Brooklyn Brewery is across the street, so naturally we went there next. We thought there was a tour, but perhaps that is only if you follow the brew kitty (featured below). We walked up to the bar for our beers, without tokens, which was the best decision ever. While we waited in line for our tokens we concurred that we could use them on the second beer, instead of the first. This tactic only works if the bar is extremely crowded, which it was, and you wait for a different bartender, which we did.

Feeling a spectacular buzz we walked up and down Bedford Avenue. We stopped into Catbird, an indie jewelry, nic-nac, and stationary store, as well as a handful more vintage stores. I left with a sparrow charm, but nothing else.

Food became our next mission. The beer was taking over and hunger pains were striking fast! We smelled a place called Peter's and were drawn in by the fabulous aroma! It was southern-soul food, had outdoor seating, and has been around since 1969, our choice was made. A food coma was induced shortly after devouring macaroni and cheese and a pulled pork sandwich...literally. We each went home for a nap (college style).

Several hours later around 10 pm we met in Union Square. Margaritas were calling my name and that's where we started, Mary Ann's in the East Village. Around midnight we discovered a non-crowded bar, especially one with music, wasn't an option, so we ended up at Rockwood.

Big Surprise?!

It was pretty late and started to empty out when we walked in. We watched Luke Wesley, a pretty good singer who plays the piano with a guitarist and a drummer. The band after them played a funked up version of Paul Simon's Graceland before we were ready to leave.

We decided on a really bizarre way to take the train home, which ended up pretty nicely. We ran into this guy I went to high school with on the platform. He was always the stoner-slacker kid in high-school and has since changed his ways. He worked on Bloomburg's re-election campaign and is now working with Charter Schools! When did he decide to change the world?! Oh, and he's got some good genes, an athlete and not bad on the eyes...at all. You could say I was excited to see him. I had just enough time to find all of this out before we needed to transfer. I spent the next half hour waiting for the train and thinking about how bizarre it is that I would see him now. Of course I am leaving next week. Typical.

Good Byes Beginning

My room is suddenly bare. The big-girl-bed that would set me into an instant coma is now gone, as is the notorious dresser, and an entire suitcase has been packed. It's pretty depressing when you walk out of my room, too. The remains of our apartment include the couch, coffee table, and tv.

I don't leave for a week, but I've already started saying my good byes. Wednesday night I met up with my friend James. We haven't seen one another much since I moved to New York, but we were in the same program at college, a year apart. I met him in Williamsburg for a delicious burger with a brioche bun at Dumont Burger. After catching up on what is sure to change momentarily (maybe only in my case) we took a walk and ended up at bar across the street from his apartment. The rest of our evening was spent fantasizing about what kind of fame and fortune we desire. James wants to be able to explore and conquer now, and I'm just fine accomplishing that kind of success post-death.

I'd love to write more, but I'm on my way out to Brooklyn for some shopping, eating, and drinking...and possibly a few more good byes:(

NYC 1923

I took this picture in Astoria, about a week ago at a vintage car dealership. But, doesn't it look how you'd imagine the 20s in New York?! Makes me want to go to a speak easy! Or, rob a bank and speed off in a car chase! ... Or, just watch Gangs of New York. Anyone?

What Baby Doesn't Question?

I catch myself thinking a lot. This is nothing new. It reverts back to the days when I used to roam the city alone for hours on end, but I've really been doing it my whole life. Now I do it whenever there's some down time, drifting off into space, meditating to music blaring through my headphones, drowning my soul in thoughts. An ex used to complain that my wheels were always turning. Doesn't everyones? I guess his didn't. That explains a lot. Anyways, I digress...

Today I ventured to Astoria to see a baby. This is not just any baby, just as the (soon to be sold) dresser, was not just any dresser. This is the baby of my friend I was teaching pre-natal yoga to, and her husband. They are two of the sweetest, most intelligent, artistic and in love people I have met. I secretly wish I was their child.

They let me hold their 2 week old baby, the youngest baby I have ever held. I didn't think anyone would ever trust me with their child! I'm not sure I would trust me, but he loved me, so I guess my arms aren't maternal-less. And I love every bit of him...right down to his itty, bitty, baby fingers and toes!

So, as you may imagine while I will be having dreams about a baby so cute, I wish it was my own. Shocking to most of you, I am sure. I am also pondering so many parts of our discussion. We were together in part for me to see their new addition, and in part because I was there to tell them I am leaving. Our conversation evolved into the perfect conclusions to my thoughts here, and I thought I'd share the cliff notes of my New York Revelations:

1) Everyone has a guard up, because they are (not so secretly) insecure, which then makes me insecure (which I've always had issues with...surprised? no not really). This results in me needing more confidence (a statement I've been told by 4 people and counting, this week alone). How do you measure confidence? In achievements? In love? In tablespoons?

2) There are about 5 styles of guys to choose from (not to put labels on anyone, or anything). You can have a ray-ban wearing, hipster, banker/ financial analyst, guido, metrosexual, or dirty, trying to be homeless, trust-fund child. Which would you choose? I don't want any of them.

3) I have to find what's missing in fashion, what people need, and design that! Sound easy? Not so. But, this has been the 2nd conversation this week where people think I need to go out on my own and start my own business. What do you need?

4) Closely related, the Fashion Industry is turning into a low cost, mass production, trend focused industry. Values have changed. Can I, and Do I want to try and change this? I don't know. Do I?

5) Every great person started somewhere, often lacking the experience and knowledge I say I need. Why not you?!

6) Will you ever consider yourself a New Yorker? And, what defines a New Yorker, when just about everyone here...is really from somewhere else?

7) Is New York over? Will it ever be over here? If it's over, where's next?

You could say I have a lot to think about...I think I'm going to get on that, well, just as soon as I finish editing these photographs from a vintage car dealership down their street...

I'm good at thinking, but I'm even better at procrastinating.

A Night of a Different Color

Yesterday, another friend from college arrived for a one night stand avec moi. We ended up at a place called Via Del Pace in the East Village with my friend Michele and her boyfriend for dinner. Sangria, pasta, and mozzarella started off the evening.

We wandered down to the Lower East Side for a sort of bar crawl attempt, but mostly to stay out of the cold weather. It seems NYC has forgotten it was spring, soon to be summer, and is making an attempt at fall again.

We warmed ourselves up inside Arlene's Grocery for a few solid drinks. By the way, if you ever find yourself in there, take note of the sign next to the juke box telling you how to do the Heimlich maneuver. It looks more like Kama Sutra then safety precautions.

After Arlene's we walked down the street to Pink Pony. This restaurant is well known for being a celeb-siting-hotspot. It is very french in style with MJ playing from speakers hidden, behind the bookshelves, white table clothes, brown wooden chairs, and paintings of horses lining the walls. I split a delicious tarte tatin (apple tart) with Michele. I will make a point to return, before I leave, for the mouthwatering burgers and sandwiches I saw a nearby table devour. The only down side to Pink Pony is that it totally killed my buzz. A super cool and chill place, but probably not appropriate for my 'party' mode that was dropping butter, hiccuping, and falling asleep at the table. haha.

I was ready to head home, but the three other people in our group were ready for more. We ended up at a small Mexican joint I've never seen before. I was done drinking and eating at this point, but our world tour wasn't over for them. They had margaritas, burritos, quesadillas, and nachos before we were able to call it night. I came home exhausted and fell asleep watching Betty White on SNL. Definitely a good night.