what's yours is mine

In a hurry to get out of the apartment and to the gym before laziness sets in, I quickly nabbed a shirt from my dresser. Halfway down the hall and halfway on my body I realized that it wasn't my shirt. It was mine because it was in my room buried under sweaters and random gym attire but it was more a relic of the past.

More than once I've found items that once belonged to boyfriends. Shirts, socks and/or sweaters show up unannounced and at moments where I'd rather they stay hidden in my drawer. They are those pieces that I used to wear to brunch Sunday when I was too lazy to put on my own tighter, more "fashionable" clothes. Items that smelled familiar and warm. Memories of running to get ice cream in the middle of the night because it went well with the movie we were watching and dressing head to toe in his clothes.

I think one of the most ridiculous things about a breakup is the "getting together of the things." I've always thought to just leave them and forget about it but the thought of me leaving and my things remaining always felt awkward and wrong. I'd rather clear the cabinet out rather than someone else having to. The problem is you can never get rid of it all and much like the memories that remain so does that one shirt that you happen to grab on a day where you already weren't feeling up to par. Well whatever, I put it on anyway and even though it no longer smells like him and all I'm doing is running errands or to the gym at least I know that it still fits and maybe one day I'll return it. But then again, maybe not.

mr. & miss perfect

Picture your perfect someone. What they look like, how they speak, where they come from, what they do, how they smell, how they address you, how they interact with your friends and most importantly, your family. That person is put in front of you. They come with a full resume of ideas and skills that align with what you imagine to be your perfect match. No bullshit. No games. No second guesses.

They take you to the perfect restaurants. Pull out your chair, order the most delicious wine that compliments both the food, the atmosphere and somehow even your outfit. You do things like sit next to each other rather than across from each other. Something that before doing it yourself you thought was ridiculous but now it's totally grand because your next to your perfect person. You have conversations that lead to similar thoughts and interests of how things should be.

They're casual but confident and they choose you - and you are there faced with the easy task of nodding yes and being with that perfect someone that you've had your eye and heart out for all along. And then you realize that not only did you think up your perfect someone but also your perfect you.

You look down to see that your sock has a hole. Your hair is messy and unkempt from the day. Your nails are chipped. You have days where you'd rather not get out of bed and whole weeks were you struggle to keep it together. You spill things, you drop things...you constantly drop things. You're not perfect. You put so much thought into the perfect someone that you completely forgot that you are not.

I should have fessed up earlier but who doesn't love playing the most perfect rendition of themselves for the most perfect rendition of the one they know. When the shine wore off and the real shone through I wasn't so sure perfect would stick around so I made the choice for them. Who wants to be perfect anyway.

a week in brief

Stopping in briefly before I head into another meeting. The time between Halloween and New Years always flies by. Hopefully next week will be a little more calm and I can come back and blog about some things I've been thinking about. Here's a quick glimpse though of what I've been drinking, eating, listening to and smelling like. More soon, promise! Start right, top and go clockwise: Bottega Veneta, l'Occitane sheer butter hand cream, Softlips in Vanilla, San Pellegrino Spring Natural Mineral Water, "Sway" by The Kooks, Fage greek yogurt

google it

I google everything. If I don't know how to spell something, if I am at a fancy restaurant and want to know what the hell cardamom is, if I'm looking for a semi-specific place that's around the corner from that place I went once but don't know the name of. Anything and everything. You type it into the magic box and it appears uncomplicated at your finger tips. It's a blessing and a curse.

I remember arguing with my father about getting a smart phone. "Why do I need the internet on my phone, that's so unnecessary. Can we just pick one and go?" I loathe shopping for phones, it's the one thing that if you ask me to do that can bring me to tears within seconds. But now I realize that a smart phone = google, which means at any time I can figure out where I am in this city and how the hell to get home. I also love after an especially wonderful night out with friends looking back to my google history that has had little gems like "Miss Mary Mack Hand Clap."

Have you ever looking at your google history or tried to record it for the day? It's the most bizarre set of words and when you throw them all together it always sounds awkward and inappropriate. Or maybe that's me...

Today's google items thus far: marlboro, pigeon, fun house, the naked and famous - punching in a dream and prohibition

smoke signals

 I awoke with a thought and part of a dream - what if I sent smoke signals? 

I quickly feel back to sleep until my alarm buzzed again. The thought stayed with me throughout the day. A S.O.S. to friends, B.B.L. to roommates, I.L.Y to family and loved ones. But with all that smoke, my signal is sure to get lost and misinterpreted with the signals of others.

How do you signal complicated thoughts and messages? If you had to break down what you were trying to say to another person in the simplest form, would we all be better off? Less beating around the bush and straight to the point? Yes. No. Now. Later. Has making it easier to send messages via phone, text, email, tweet, etc. actually made it harder for us to communicate?

I'm working on simplifying my life. With materials things, with my friendships, relationships, my entire self. Let's get to the point. I can't help feel that with all these complicated signals flying around that I'm losing my message in all the smoke.

november

Always. Every year I think that I'm going to get through the entire month without falling into a sinkhole of bitterness and angst but November has proven me wrong again. It's been months since I've had the hole-in-my-chest-the-world-is-falling-apart feeling but I awoke with it Saturday night and haven't been able to kick it since. I felt it creeping in last weekend and tried to run it out of my system. 4 days and 20 miles later all I ended up with was extremely sore feet and an absurdly painful calf cramp. I almost made it the entire month. See you in December.

scrumptious scone

I've been busy catching up on my New York life since I've returned from my month of travels. Playing catch up means that I'm back to cooking and baking, or at least trying to. I'm good at pulling and saving recipes but that's often as far as it goes. This past Sunday I set out to make scones. I'm a breakfast/brunch fanatic so it only seemed fitting to learn how to bake the perfect scone. Originally the recipe came from Epicurious.com. With minor tweaks and a whole lot of mess, my scones came out semi-perfect. It is of my own belief that they would have been 100% perfect if I had more counter space to work in and an oven that wasn't comparable to Barbies. The recipe is below with my added changes. This weekend I hope to try a vanilla, blueberry batch. Cheers!

Lemon Cream Scones
Bon Appétit, May 1996

Ingredients
*revisions/tweaks I made
2 cups all purpose flour
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt
*3/4 cup chopped dried peaches (originally apricots)
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon grated lemon peel
1 1/4 cups whipping cream
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
*1/2 lemon to squeeze into dough
   
Preparation
Preheat oven to 425°F. Mix 2 cups flour, 1/4 cup sugar, 1 tablespoon baking powder and 1/2 teaspoon salt in large bowl. Stir in apricots and 1 tablespoon lemon peel. Add whipping cream and stir just until dough forms. This is where I squeezed in some fresh lemon juice to add more lemon flavor. Turn dough out onto lightly floured surface. Knead gently just until dough holds together. Form dough into 10-inch-diameter, 1/2-inch-thick round. Cut into 12 wedges.

Transfer wedges to large baking sheet, spacing evenly. Combine remaining 2 tablespoons sugar and 1 teaspoon lemon peel in small bowl. Brush scones with melted butter. Sprinkle with sugar mixture. Bake scones until light golden brown, about 15 minutes. Transfer to rack and cool slightly. (Can be prepared 1 day ahead. Cool completely. Wrap in foil; store at room temperature.) Serve scones warm or at room temperature.

ghouling good

Happy Halloween! I'm wishing everyone tricks and treats from NYC. I spent my weekend in California with both an old and now some new friends. The photo is of myself painted as a sugar skull. I've had an obsession with Día de los Muertos ever since high school. It's a tradition that I wish were celebrated here in the states. Wouldn't it be great to be able to dress up and celebrate the lives of those lost in a colorful, beautiful way? I love that the skulls represent the sweetness of life (sugar) and the sadness in death (skull). A big thanks to Matt for the photo and being the best California guide all weekend.

california dreaming

I have this idea in my head where I step off a plane and look immaculate. My hair is done, my makeup looks airbrushed, I'm in my suicide shoes (6" pumps) and my essentials are tucked perfectly into a small tote that is tossed ever so easily over my shoulder. I never, ever look like this. Surprisingly I am so excited about leaving for my weekend getaway that I don't have time for nerves yet. I'm more focused on packing and thinking about what I'm going to wear when I arrive to LA. This is my first trip to LA and California in general. Plans are set for food, hiking and a Halloween party and that sounds like a perfect weekend to me.

My imagination has me stepping off the plane and greeted with Katy Perry's "California Girls" and the entire cast from Laguna Beach. I know instead I will be greeted with matted hair, smudged makeup and a too heavy carry-on. Either way, off I go. Happy Halloween! <3

unplugged

In January I lost my phone. I left it in a bar while out with friends. I was sick of answering texts, set it on our table and slipped into the crowd only to find hours later that I was inconveniently disconnected to the world. I know it sounds dramatic but I had no way to reach my family, friends or the phone provider. I speak to my parents daily and often more than once. I knew that they had probably tried to call and had most likely gotten my voicemail. I had a feeling they were starting to worry. I couldn't contact my friends to see if many one of them grabbed it knowing it was mine before they left. I couldn't contact the phone provider to say my phone was missing and to please disconnect the line so that no one calls Asia or Australia, hacks my email or social media accounts. I promptly signed onto Facebook and twitter and messaged my sister and friends that my phone was gone, I was alive and to contact me by means of my roommate until further notice.

At first, this was such a pain in the ass. I didn't have Facebook at my fingertips. I couldn't tweet annoying things about what I was doing at that moment. I couldn't text anyone that I was running late and that I'd be there soon. What I learned was this; Facebook is a waste of time, twitter doesn't care what you are doing and sending a text for being late is a bad excuse for just taking too long in the shower. I realized that there is something really lovely about being disconnected from everything.

Fast forward to today. It's slow so I am doing minor projects to fill my time until I am briefed on the next project. I refresh my blog stats, my twitter feed, check my phone for texts and I absolutely hate it. I can't stand that I am so plugged in that I rely on these things during the day to keep myself entertained. I recently deactivated my personal Facebook account to help ease myself away from the social media bubble. I can't tell you how much drama that has saved me from in my life. Who cares about who went from in a relationship to single or posted photos from their drunken night out with people you barely know anymore. I know that there are benefits to being always in the loop but sometimes I wish that I weren't at all. That way I couldn't obsess over how many people are reading this post right now, where friends are having lunch via 4square or deciphering tweets and texts. Is it me or are we all just a little too plugged in to what everyone else is up to?

paper makes perfect

I collect things. One of those things is paper, more specifically notebooks. I buy them and then wait for the perfect project to fill the pages. Finding the perfect notebook for a project is like having a constant good luck charm with me. It sets the tone for what is to come. I am convinced that scribbling notes on a shitty notepad will make for a shitty outcome. This is also why I obsess over handwriting but that's another post, another therapy session all together. Currently I am coveting two items. The Kate Spade sister journal to my spade journal and the ridiculously priced Hermès coloring book. It's like the grown-up child in me is screaming to have this. I have $100 dollars on the fact that if I do end up with it, I'll never even color in the pages.

the space between

Living in a city where space is money, I've began to think at what age is it appropriate to still have a roommate? Isn't it sort of odd to think that you live on your own yet you still share a home with others that you are just friends with? In some sense, it's really nice. You can be single and still have the comfort in knowing that someone is there when you come home from work. In another view it seems very juvenile to have a "roomie" at age 25, 27 or 30. When does it cross over from being necessary to disheartening?

This stems from the fact that my current roommate will be moving out and into an apartment with her boyfriend come February. Aside from the sadness I feel in losing her as a roommate, I felt this odd sense of abandonment like we were breaking up. Who would wake me up after I accidentally turn my alarm off during the week? Who will make sure I make it home at night? Then my mind turned to the haunting thought of; will I ever want someone else in my space?

Let me define my interpretation of space. Space is both physical and emotional. If you are physically in my space this may be a problem because of the smallness of city apartments. I don't want to bump into you because this will cause both of us to become grouchy. If you are emotionally in my space it means that you are more than just a friend. You ask me where I was and what I am doing the second I walk in the door. Your energy directly effects me because I am emotionally involved with you. Can there be enough physical space for all the emotional space we together take up? Following me?

Much more than a roommate, when do you decide that it's actually time to move in with someone who is more than a friend. I'm left with this question because I've never had the mere thought of doing so with any of my previous boyfriends. Others say that it just happens and that it just seems to suddenly make sense. I cannot wrap my head around that. All I know is that I need a lot of physical space to hold all of the emotional space I take up. Maybe I should start thinking about moving to another borough.

checkpoint

 Midway plus a month or so and I'm checking in about those 25 goals I set on my birthday. Here's where they stand thus far:

1. Travel more  Yeah, be careful what you wish for
2. Make less excuses (oh crap, a bad start but I will get better) such a good goal to set
3. Go to more flea markets/antique fairs what up bk and uws
4. Spend more time kissing I don't kiss and tell
5. Train for the NYC marathon
6. Write more thank you notes lots to be thankful for
7. Learn to moon walk
8. Do more yoga
9. Keep up with this blog constantly trying
10. Visit the ballet
11. Take ballet
12. Make it to the beach come summer once counts I guess
13. Get a promotion at work Got a promotion and then a new job, double win
14. Donate more of my items clutter free
15. Spend less time being hungover
16. Drink way less sugar silly yet effective
17. Get my allergies (to almost everything) figured out
18. Pay off my credit card
19. Procrastinate less ready. set. go.
20. Spend more time with my sister but still happy to spend more
21. Go horseback riding more continue through the fall I hope
22. Learn to cook all the dessert recipes I save
23. Keep up with my journal (nerdy, I know)
24. Take a cooking class
25. Make more friends meeting more amazing people each day

14/25 is okay but still lots to do and think about. Half way to 26 is sort of scary but in a good way. As long as it's not 27 which is my "scary" age where I think I should be grown up or accomplish something grand. What's your scary age?

plagued plans

I book, double book, cancel and reschedule constantly. I get into bed Sunday night and wish I had spent my weekend resting and running errands instead of going out to eat, staying out much too late and not sleeping nearly enough. Does anyone else do this to themselves? As soon as I have a free minute I'm filled with this you're-25-and-in-nyc-you-must-go-be-social-your-youth-will-be-gone-soon feeling.

My sister jokes that whenever I am home at my parents that all I do is sleep but this is the only time where I don't have that nagging feeling that I'm missing out on something. I can actually linger around, take random naps and go to bed/sleep in late without feeling like a loser who stayed in on the weekend. I think my non-stop attitude is all apart of my new schedule which flexes me to have a greater social life. I'm trying to use my new freedom to become "healthier" and to let go of all the stress I carried around for the past few years but what I'm really do is making myself crazy with dinners, dates, random travel plans and staying up and out too late.

Speaking of random travel plans, this weekend I'll be returning to my homeland also known as Beaver Stadium. Penn State homecoming is this weekend and I'll be off to pretend that I haven't got a care in the world by cheering on my home team. I can't wait to go back to Saints, shop at Mr. Charles and pick up a college baseball cap. Hoping for nice weather and a win.

approach with caution

The first time it happened was the summer after my senior year in high school. Sitting around a bonfire I was told 3 times in a row that I was severely unapproachable. I was laughing inside, I couldn't help it. When 18 year old guys have their first actual conversation with you and decide that you aren't nearly as frightening as they thought you were, it makes you want to smack them upside their heads. Of course I'm not you idiots, I'm just not into your cliquey bullshit.

Fast forward to college. As my friends were hit on at bars and parties more often than not, I was approached last. Usually by guys a lot older than me and who were well into their 5th or 6th beer. Why? See above. After a few moments of conversation they realize that I'm not going to shoot them down or put my cigarette out on their forearms (I don't smoke but this is my post so let's pretend). Before I've said that people tell me more information than normal and with that is their common confession. Here's a few I've heard:

-You're not nearly as mean as you look.
-If I didn't know you, I would never approach you.
-You really enjoy calling people out don't you?
-Why do you look so pissed?
-I thought you hated me.

My college friends were extremely approachable. I felt sort of left out in college being the girl who wasn't getting bought free drinks all the time. The place that I was hit on the most was at work. I waitressed at a sports bar in my college town where hundreds came to watch football, hockey and any other sport of the season. I had to smile, I had to flirt, I had to deal with bad pick up lines - my rent depended on it. Now I understand why this was the place where numbers were left on napkins and receipts, I had to emulate that easy going, approachable girl - I learned to pretend.

My friends now have the same reputation I have as the unapproachable girl. I take great comfort in this. I like that they don't dumb themselves down so that guys will approach them or that they have no problem calling you out for your cheesy pick up line. If you can get past our harsh glares and bouts of laughter you will find a group of friends who want nothing more than to go out, have fun, make new friends and laugh until sunrise. So if you do actual spot me out, make sure you come say hello… I promise I won't make you feel like an ass, unless you deserve it.

one

Today marks one year in blogging. Before I blow out those birthday candles though I'd like to make a toast. Ahem.

Thank you for reading. Sometimes when I seriously doubt anyone even reads anything I write, I get a very lovely surprise. I hear about my friends parents who visit my blog, my moms coworkers, my high school peers, others mention my blog or specific posts in conversations, people I don't know leave comments or send me messages. It means a lot to me, you have no idea.

Most of what I write has been inspired by conversations I've had with others. Friends, enemies, coworkers, strangers, family, the works. If we're having the conversation then I'm sure someone else out there is wondering about it too, which is why I write. Sometimes it's nice to know that there are people as nutty as you out there. I'm here to say that I support your nutty-ness, you are not alone.

I have for good reason never mentioned the names of those who I am writing about. Most of you probably wouldn't care but I would never want to subject anyone to anything I say. This is me putting myself out to the public, not me putting you out to the public. If you know me personally, I'm sure you can figure out who each post is inspired by. Some of you have even commented remembering the conversation you initially had with me that turned into a post. Thank you for the inspiration.

My favorite post: The Wave
Your favorite post based off of the stats: Naked Truth
The most useful post: Perfect Pair
The most delish post: Guac-mole-me
The most "real" post to write: How to treat a snake bite
The post that I can laugh at now that I've moved: Things that bump in the night

Special thanks to
My Mom Carol: Thanks for ALWAYS reading. You never miss one & I really appreciate that. I love you.
Matt & Xaiver: Thank you for fixing/answering my tech questions!
Kate & Mallory: For commenting and reading and being two of my very best friends ever. I love you both.

All my other friends: Thank you for having those conversations that have led to over 100 posts. I can't wait to see what sort of weirdo stuff we talk about next.

P.S. Suddenly Lovely is on facebook now if you'd like to be a fan :)

anonymous design

When I was younger and still living with my parents I always thought in situations that didn't please me, "I will remember this for my own kids, I will never do that to them." Even then I knew I was being dramatic and usually I was able to see the point they were trying to make. Now that I'm at the old age of 25 I'm thinking about that situation in a different light. I'm talking about a situation that I bet 99% of designers face. The "when I'm an art director/creative director I will never do that to my designers/team" situation.

Have you ever had one of your bosses/managers/directors do something or say something that either made you want to fall to the floor in tears in frustration or hurl a desk across the room in anger? It's not criticism I'm talking about. I'm talking about owning your work and getting credit where credit is due. Let me set the scene for you.

It's understood that when you work for a brand that you will not be able to sign your work like a painter or sculptor would. You acknowledge that you work for Company X and that Company X will (hopefully) get praised for the project you slaved and obsessed over. Your name will not appear at the end of the commercial, at the bottom poster, on the lower right hand corner of the box. But throughout the company and to those in the industry, you will shine. How naive for a young designer like myself to think. I never realized how hurtful taking credit for the work of others could be until I had been in both situations.

As I stood in front of my concepts and designs this week in front of first my art director, then my senior director, then my marketing director and still more directors and presidents to follow I realized something. Those "fall to the floor in tears" situations swing both ways. Both when someone takes complete credit for the designs you've created and when someone 2, 3 or 4 levels above you looks you straight in the eye and says, "Wow. Wonderful. These are great." They pull others over, they talk about you in other meetings, they are happy that you are there to be a part of their team. Learning from now both situations I am putting this in the back of my head for when I reach my own design dream job as an art director one day.

Give credit to where credit is do. Celebrate those who did the work. Acknowledge their work. You have no idea how beat down you can get when the opposite happens.

I left work and cried. Out of relief. Out of complete happiness. The moment where my art director pointed to me when her boss asked who had worked on the concept. You have no idea how grateful I was for that moment. Those moments make me want to push forward even harder, to really shine even brighter next time. You could have hated it all but the fact that you said it was my work went above and beyond. Thank you.

dream on

Do any of you have reoccurring dreams? Places, people or situations that you come back to from time to time? I think that more often than not I dream. I wake up sometimes knowing exactly what the dream was about and sometimes I'm just left with a feeling. I wrote before about night terrors and how they come and go with my stress level. Dreams have always been an oddity to me, especially when I have déjà vu.

Do you ever wake up completely exhausted? This happened to me Monday morning when I had been asleep for more than 9 hours. Feeling tired and worn out from the weekend I crawled into bed early only to awake hours later feeling like I had been running a marathon through the night. I woke up with the memory of a reoccurring dream I have pretty often. Usually in the dream I am fighting someone but am unable to land a punch or do anything to defend myself but run in the opposite direction. I've been having this dream for so long that I can't remember when it even started. I push, I punch and try with all my strength but nothing makes my opponent flinch. Sunday night however, I was able for the first time to beat my opponent. The opponent often changes but is always a male figure. Usually he laughs at me and comes towards me stronger with every kick or punch I throw. I remember in the dream that the one thing that made him (whoever he is and stands for) back up, was me constantly moving forward towards him. The closer I got and the more confident I felt to move forward, the more he backed down. 

I know this sounds completely crazy but I wonder why out of all the times I've had this dream, why now was able to overcome this male figure? I could google the meaning all day but wouldn't come up with a thing to satisfy me I'm sure. Maybe it was the fact that I wasn't feel all that well and my body was trying to fight through whatever cold I have that made me have such a vivid dream. I doubt I'll ever know.

bergdorf blondes

Prior to my internship in the city, I had very limited knowledge and expectations. Sophomore year of college while on spring break in Miami, I hurriedly picked up "Bergdorf Blondes" before rushing onto my plane. Looking back I realize that this is how I came to imagined NYC. Full of socialites, luxe shopping, extravagant parties and extra perfect and glamorous women, this was the city I was determined to find myself in.

Now that I'm here I can't help but laugh. More than 5 times a day I gag because of the smell of garbage or a homeless person. Heels over 4" aren't realistic to trot around in and my feet look like they've been put through the lawn mower at the end of each week. The average size of engagement rings here are more than 80% larger than the rest of the world. And finally, you can be sitting next to a billionaire on the subway and not know it because it seems the richer you are here, the less you get to give a shit about how you look.

Nonetheless, I love it. I preach about Central Park and love that I can grab a cab at any hour to deliver me right where I need to be. For the third time I've decided to again read "Bergdorf Blondes." I love falling in love all over again with the magic of the city, even if some of it is a bit far fetched for a working girl like myself.

a loaded question

"Do you ever hate Ken?" Isabella had asked her friend Mary a couple of weeks ago. They were getting manicures on a Wednesday night after work and the question just came out. Ken was Mary's new boyfriend, a nice guy who made all of their friends comment, "Oh, there he is. That's what she's been waiting for," as if finding your perfect match was a guarantee as long as you were patient enough.

Mary raised her eyebrows and looked closely at a nail she'd just smudged.

"Hate him?" she asked.

"Yeah. Hate him." Isabella said. "The other night I looked at Harrison and I just...I don't know."

"I don't know if I ever hate him," Mary said. "But he sure bugs the living fuck out of me sometimes." 

* * * * * * 

A laugh-out-loud moment where I found myself nodding at my book and to myself on the subway. It was refreshing that I never had to say this out loud but someone else did and even took the time to write it into a book. Do you ever look at those around you, the ones you love and think, "What the hell am I doing hanging around with this person?" Yeah well me too, almost every other day.

(Girls in White Dresses by Jennifer Close)

lavender longing

Whenever I see a familiar scent listed as a food item on a menu I am always intrigued. For example, lavender. This strong, cozy scent is a favorite of mine that reminds me of home. While out to dinner this weekend at the legendary 21 Club in Manhattan, I ordered a Lavender-lime rickey which was simply listed as a combination of Tanqueray, fresh lime and lavender syrup. I've had food before that's been infused with lavender but never anything so strong. I highly recommend visiting the restaurant if you're visiting or live in the city. The "rickey" would be a perfect drink to serve with brunch.

thefty shopping

Have you ever stole anything? Better yet, have you ever had anything stolen from you by a complete stranger? I'm not talking about your sibling nabbing something from your closet, I'm talking gone for good. I've never stolen anything but last year my leather jacket was swiped from me while out in the city. Now I take responsibility for not checking my coat at check-in but I was less than 10 feet from it the entire night and have definitely been more careless a million times before. The thing about this jacket was it was the first big purchase that  I made entirely for myself when I moved to Manhattan. I saved up all my birthday money and cut way back to buy this thing. It meant something to me. It was a "I'm-23-in-fucking-manhattan-hear-me-roar" piece. I loved it. I wore it constantly. It was the second favorite thing I've ever owned (the first being a gold bracelet from December 1986 engraved with 'Toni' that still fits me). I cried. Hard. It floors me to this day that someone would take something that didn't belong to them. I tried to think that they really needed that jacket or maybe it really was a mistake but it was never returned to the restaurant/club/bar and therefore I believe now that they did it on purpose. This weekend I semi-replaced that jacket with a new one. It's similar and I'm sure I'll grow to love it but I have a feeling that I won't be as attached to it as I was my last one. I'm trying to think of it as my "I'm-25-just-landed-my-dream-job-and-still-loving-manhattan" jacket but it doesn't have the same ring to it. As we've been over before, I believe in karma so who knows where the person who swiped my jacket ends up. In the meantime, I'll be breaking in my new edition.

gentlemen don't wear shorts, ladies don't chug

Where do you fall when it comes to dating etiquette? Are you a do-it-all-gal where as you hail your own cabs, open your own doors and make the first move? Or are you ore the traditional wait for him to take your coat, pull out your chair and order for you? Personally every relationship I've been in has been different from the last. And with each, my expectations changed. Some men forgot to help me out of the car but always remembered my favorite ice cream. Some have held the door but forgot to hold my hand.

What is the perfect blend? I believe in an equal partner equation. You get what you give. Pick me up late, in shorts, without making any sort of plan for the night? Odds are that you're going to get less than 50% of my attention that night. Show up on time, dressed appropriately, with a game plan and a smile, I'm 100% yours. It's not chiverly I'm after, but the effort makes all the difference. What about the same effort put forth for men too? Maybe sometimes girls are to blame. If you are chugging a beer and looking like a slob, expect to be treated like one. Remember his favorite place to eat, that dress he loved on you or take the time to learn something about something he's into.

Of course everyone's preferences are different. It takes someone damn near perfect and special to make you realized that they are what you've been missing without even knowing it. Regardless, do one thing today that makes your girl or guy remember why they are with you.

the loss of living

Sometimes it's not death that takes someone away from you but life. Moving away from your childhood town, leaving for college, and starting your adult life in another city are all physical moves that push you closer to some and further from others. What about emotional moves? Decisions that turn into gateways for some friendships or relationships but dead ends for others. We are never the same people we were in the past and we are forever changing. Sometimes that change, no matter what, pulls you further from the people you originally thought would always be there. Remember your first boyfriend/girlfriend and how you thought you'd be together forever? Maybe some of you are lucky enough to have that thought turn into reality but most of us aren't. You pass these people at different points in your life and realize that you both have changed into people who are barely recognizable from that 14 year old state. This is not the boy I drove around with singing Craig David's "Seven Days" (yes, it's true, I know every word).

Through all of my heartbreaks, I've never had a worse heartbreak than from a best friend. Boyfriends seem to come and go but my girlfriends are a constant in my life. I've realized that as we get older, my group of close friends shrink. Between work, boyfriends, and life in general, the time I spend with friends is more specific. As relationships and friendships fade or grow stronger I've let go of all negative feelings and move forward with the understanding that sometimes there is nothing else you can do.

This post is dedicated to Mallory who was my 7th grade enemy until she told all the mean girls to go to hell during lunch when I was told there was no room for me at their table. That's love.

sayonara

As August comes to an end and fall creeps in with September I start to think about where the summer has gone. Usually I'm still holding on to the last bit of the season but this year, I'm ready for change. Summer here means you're constantly on the go. You see friends here and there but always rushing from place to place, party to party, club to bar and so-on. Fall comes and everything slows down. Summer romances fade and for a month or so, everyone is blissfully single and available for an afternoon brunch, walk around the city or late night out. As I sit here with not one but two fans blowing on me, I think of the season to come, it's beautiful leaves, crisp air and calmness. Goodbye summer, see you next year.

fast food

I'm a big fan of easy, fast dinners. I never feel like cooking anything when get home from work and the gym at the end of the day. I am constantly looking for recipes that are quick, delish and can be made with only a few main ingredients (I loath grocery shopping!). Here's one below that I made up as I went that took 20 minutes and tasted amazing!

Day before: Marinate your chicken breast over night with just a few ingredients listed below. I just put mine in a zip bag, nothing fancy!
-Fresh basil leaves
-Montreal chicken seasoning
-Virgin olive oil
Day of: Set your pasta to boil and put your chicken in the oven at 350 degrees. Depending on how thick it is, cooking time may vary. Add more seasoning if preferred. Whisk together butter, freshly chopped garlic, pepper, pinch of salt and minced basil leaves. Once your chicken is done chop up and put it into pasta and pour butter sauce over. Enjoy!

moving on, moving out

In March of 2007 I arrived in New York City for my interview with a company called Ceci New York. One summer internship and three years later, I find myself saying goodbye to my first design job and all the people who I've grown so close to. The photo above was taken by my mom moments before that first interview for my summer internship. You can clearly see my nerves as I clutch my ice tea and barely smile. I remember being on such a roller coaster of emotions. Excitement, curiosity, nervousness but most of all, pure terror. What if they laughed at my work? What if they told me to get out and never come back? The "they" turned out to be Senior Designer Drew Brockington and Founder/Creative Director Ceci Johnson. They did neither such thing. They carefully went through my portfolio, asked me about my background, my interests and took me through the Ceci New York design process in-brief. I came back as a full-time designer July 2008 after my college graduation. I've been able to work on projects from comedian Lisa Lampanelli's wedding invitation (who is a really, really sweet woman contrary to belief), Australian online shopping brand BlackRag and was even in a CeciStyle shoot as an extra (that's me on the left with the one shoulder pink dress).

The last day has been bittersweet so far. Being both sad to go and excited to begin something new has left me in limbo for the past two weeks. I do think as a creative person it's time to throw myself into something completely different and new. It will challenge everything I've known for the past few years and make me flip, reinvent and change the way I design. I still feel much like the person in the photograph being on the verge of fainting as I finish up my last day. But here's to change, something fresh and new and a great big thank you and I love you to everyone here at Ceci New York.

fall break

As much as I love summer in the city, fall here is like no other… well with the exception of the amazing falls I used to have at Penn State. With college football, cider, crisp air and beautiful colored leaves to look forward to, I've already been putting my fall wish list together. All combined makes the perfect look for a stroll through central park, a state game with college friends or a casual date with someone special. Hopefully you'll find something you love here too! From top left, moving clockwise: Chanel Coco Mademoiselle Parfum, Tory Burch Selma riding boot, Tarte LipSurgence natural matte lip tint, West Avenue Small Monogram Necklace, La Perla Vintage Plissé lace soft-cup bra, J Brand 620 Super Skinny Denim, Ralph Lauren Blue Label Megan Solid Oxford Shirt and S'MORES (the biggest must-have of the season)!

speak the truth, even if your voice shakes

I've learned so many things by moving out of my small town in Pennsylvania. Things that have lifted me up and things that have let me down but most of all, how to deal with both. While I truly believe everyone deals with their problems differently, the core to everyone's internal struggle may be that we lie to ourselves. It's hard to take ourselves outside of our own situations to realize what is happening and how to find the solution. Acknowledging a problem or a bad habit to yourself is beyond difficult. Assessing the problem and dealing with it yourself is almost impossible. In New York, I'd say more often than not, our friends, coworkers, bosses and significant others see therapists for this exact reason. It takes complete strangers to get to the root of the problem. But why can't we do this ourselves? I refuse to spend money on something I am sure I can do myself which is why I've developed my own therapy session with myself as both the patient and the therapist.

Whenever I'm feeling especially down over anything; friends, family, work, significant others, etc. I do a simple trick, I speak the truth to myself. I know this sounds simple and a bit crazy but have you ever openly spoken the dead truth about a problem your facing? 9 times out of 10 you know what the solution is. The problem is the solution is often harder than ignoring the issue itself, it's not your ideal situation and is inconvenient and messy. Before you can admit your wrong doings to anyone else, it's a good idea to admit them to yourself. Unhappy with a friend? Say it out loud. Ask yourself why. Ask yourself how. Ask yourself when this started and how you see it ending. The most important thing about this is saying it out loud. Be completely honest. You'll probably cry but you might start to realize where it stemmed from. You'll feel a ton better and begin to organize your thoughts. You'll begin to heal.

While I fully understand that this isn't for everyone, it really has helped me. Lay down, sit on the sofa, go for a walk and find a good spot in the park, say it in the shower, whatever works for you. But once you are fully 100% honest with yourself, all those knowing truths inside you will come out and you'll be able to begin the process and be able to assess whatever you're dealing with more responsibly, all beginning with realizing you're responsible for yourself.

act your age

As much as I try to deny the fact, I am an adult. Once I turned 25 years old earlier this year, I realized that I should probably stop fucking around and act my age. What I didn't know is, I actually already was. Subtly over time, habits and personality traits of my younger self began to disappear and I began to grow up. While walking home today from the grocery store I realized while passing a high school girl how much younger she actually was than me, and how glad I am that I am done with that chapter of my life. While friends can still hurt your feelings and your heart still breaks the same, there are bits of things I do on a daily basis that categorize myself as an adult. Below are 10 signs of my adulthood that are both light-hearted, and laughable. Enjoy.

1. I force myself to eat vegetables, the one's I don't like
2. I save recipes
3. I use the term "tween" as a general description
4. I'm done dating assholes
5. I don't use the term "when I get older" I say "eventually" instead
6. I critique other parents parenting skills instead of blaming the child
7. I don't want to waste a sick day on actually being sick
8. I no longer buy the cheapest wine bottle at the store
9. I drink coffee not for the caffeine but because I like the taste
10. I am genuinely concerned with what I will feed my guests if they come over before we go out

tricky sticks

Prior to my internship in New York City I had never eaten sushi or thai and therefore, never learned how to use chopsticks. Feeling awkward and embarrassed I picked up my chopsticks amongst my new coworkers and tried to mimic their hand movements. It wasn't until a few weeks later while out to dinner with a good friend and fellow designer, Melinda that I was shown how to properly hold and use chopsticks. Recently while at a sushi restaurant in downtown Baltimore I felt the need to pass along my chopstick knowledge. How many of you also do not know how to use these tricky sticks? The key is to make sure the bottom stick stays put as your anchor and to use the top stick to squeeze your food. Here's a good how-to online, you'll be a pro in no time: http://www.ehow.com/how_3261_chopsticks.html

survivor island

Whenever word reaches me that someone is leaving the city the response is always the same. My eyes squint, my forehead wrinkles and my expression is pure confusion. Why? Maybe it's that I'm so wrapped up in the magic of New York City that I can't imagine why one would leave. Then planning begins and everyone rushes around for dinner and drinks with that person because leaving the city is like leaving the planet. Hurry! We have to have dinner, I probably won't ever see or hear from you again! I forget that emails and phone calls exist and that once you leave the city, you are always able to move back or at the least, visit.

Leaving the city means leaving conveniences behind. Being able to be chauffeured around in a cab, order in food, laundry and alcohol and mostly have anything you need at a drop of a hat and a messenger fee. New Yorkers live in excess. We work too much, drink too much, don't sleep enough, are obsessed with being at the latest and greatest restaurants and clubs, run marathons because it's trendy and act uninterested at celebrity sightings because, "Who are they anyway, they probably live in L.A. full-time." All of this makes me wonder why exactly I stay. I was born and raised in the country with a go-getter and do-for-yourself attitude. This may be the exact reason I've survived so long though. Being able to live amongst these high-strung, high-energy and sometimes just high New Yorkers all while staying level-headed might stem from my low-key upbringing. All I know for now is that if you are leaving please let me know so I can run around planning drinks and dinners with you because you're leaving my little safe island and going into the big, scary world.

This post is dedicated to Jes. She came and conquered and is now off to rule the rest of the world, best wishes and hope to see you soon. xx

summer sips

Two Christmas holiday's ago I was inspired by a friend's homemade irish liquor which was gifted to me. He and his girlfriend have been making the liquor since their first Christmas together with the recipe steaming from their family's backgrounds in Ireland. The blend was absolutely divine and I instantly started wondering how I could put my own spin on the idea. Since summer is one of my favorite seasons in the city, I was influenced by all the fresh fruit in my local grocery market. I found this simple recipe and have been meaning to share it for some time now. The raspberries I used can be replaced with just about anything. Note that I am absolutely not a fan of typical flavored vodka but this recipe flavors it in a way that is perfect with just a splash of soda or additional juice over ice. I am going to prep blueberries and strawberries this weekend. Recipe below & cheers!

Materials
large stock pot

spatula

1 1/2 cups sugar

1 1/2 cups water

1 whole bag fresh raspberries

4 cups reasonable vodka

food processor (you can do this by hand with a knife without an issue)
cheesecloth (you can also use a coffee filter, see below)

large very clean glass bottle or steeping jar with lid

4-6 or more small decorative bottles with lids to hold the finished liqueur (only if you are giving these as gifts)

Instructions
1. Pour water and sugar in large stock pot over medium heat. Stir constantly until sugar dissolves and water looks clear. Let cool.
2. Place raspberries in food processor and pulse until finely chopped. Add to the cooled sugar water and then add vodka. Stir. If you don't have a food processor just mince up the raspberries by hand, I did this myself and it worked fine.
3. Pour into large steeping jar or bottle. Seal and store in cool dark place. Steep for 2 to 3 weeks, shaking every other day. (I put mine in the back of our kitchen closet)
4. Pour mix through strainer to separate solids. Using cheesecloth will remove more impurities. You can also use a coffee filter!
5. Use funnel to pour into small individual bottles, tie ribbon around the fun red liqueur and voila! Makes 4-8 gifts depending on bottle sizes. Cost is about $5 to $10 dollars per gift depending on vodka and individual bottle cost.
Other fruit options include but are not limited to: vanilla bean, simply slice in half and place in storing. I recommend steeping this a month. Orange or lemon peel (avoid rind). The bottles store for one year.

listen hear

Have you ever played the date game? Sitting close to a couple whose body language and conversation says they've recently met. So what's on the table for conversation? Background/the run down? First date most likely. Friends and light jokes? Second to third date. When you first meet a new person, friend or love interest, do you lay it out on the line or do you withhold? I personally withhold but I've found that most of the time people tend to divulge a lot of information in me surprisingly fast. This makes me feel good knowing that others trust me with their "truths." These truths can be described as secrets, obsessions, interests, loves/hates, and extreme opinions on others. This is something that since elementary school has been a common factor in all my friendships and relationships. I am the secret keeper. I am pulled to coffee, sleepovers, girl's nights out, beer with the guys, walks and phone conversations which begin light but always end up in confessions. There is no gift to this but there is an understanding; I don't hear you, I listen.

Because I listen I usually learn much more about a person but just doing so rather than diving head first into a conversation that may or may not involve me. I am also genuinely interested in what makes people tick and react. You really hate something? Tell me why, how and what. Get specific, give me details. Just like my collection of tangible treasures, I collect secrets. I think acquiring this relationship with people early in getting to know them makes them either do two things, become a friend for life or feel too vulnerable and stray a bit. Simple, silly, deep, dark, useful and useless, they will never leave my lips.

routinely regular

"At two o'clock we go to the sitting room"

Some of us, more than others crave consistency in our daily routines. While some days may fly by with meetings, deadlines and to-do lists, some days slowly tread on without much to look forward to. What if at 1:00 in the afternoon everyday you had the option of heading to the beach to relax or at 5:00 in the early evening you routinely gathered with friends over small plates and decadent desserts? Doesn't that sound much better than having to rush lunch while quickly answering emails? Below are a few routines from the past and present that different parts of the world consistency take part in. I would love to hear more if you'd care to comment and share!

Spain - a siesta or midday nap usually in the early afternoon after lunch due to high afternoon temperatures and a heavy lunch. Originally this nap concept was put in place so that people could take time to hang out with their friends and family, how nice!

United Kingdom - tea time which originated in England is accompanied by light sandwiches, scones, cakes and pastries. Low tea or afternoon tea is taken between 2pm-5pm while high tea is taken between 5pm-7pm.

United States - one of the only routines American culture takes part in during the week is happy hour. Originating from the prohibition era, drinking prior to dinner served as a way for adults to hide cocktail parties at a speakeasy before heading to dinner where alcohol was illegal to be served.

Islam - the daily practice of prayer called salah is performed five times a day. Each prayer is performed at a prescribed time of the day.

collector's edition

How do you note your life? Do you scrapbook, keep a journal or take tons of photos? I am a collector. I wish I had time for a scrapbook, the patience and eye for photography and while I do keep a journal, it's full of writing but lacks visuals. Open my bedside table and you will find several small boxes. These boxes contain various clips from places and moments. Rather than getting caught up in how to perfectly display vacations, weekend events and everyday treasures, these small boxes allow me to easily keep things that I love in one place. Below is an example of what you might find if you spy into these small boxes which are adornments in themselves;

Boxes - perfume, jewelry and candy. Part of being a designer is being in awe of perfect printing techniques and new and different constructions of various containers. Even these boxes were selected carefully to keep my items safe.

Tickets - movie, train, plane, social event, sporting event, museum, etc. Events that shaped moments and memories special and unforgettable to me. Looking at these make me remember those past places, events and people I shared them with.

Perfume Slips - papers, tabs, stems and ribbons. I've always been obsessed with smells which trigger memories for me so easily.

Notes - friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, family and strangers: Things to remind myself how wonderful the people in my life are, present and past.

Tags - clothing, ribbon and gift certificates. Again a design obsession with printing, packing and branding.

Mini Perfume Bottles - I don't have nearly enough of these but I do love them.

Et Cetera - Matchbooks, business cards, specialty papers, fortune cookie slips, stickers, magazine clips of wanted wardrobe items or hair and makeup how-to's and random 3D objects such as a worry doll, animals, buttons and beads.

Maybe you have one of these boxes too. Some of your might refer to this as your "junk drawer" but mine's a bit to organized and contained to be labeled as such. Ideally I'd like to transfer all of these items into a vintage trunk to be kept in my home. But without the trunk or space currently, these boxes will have to do.

cry baby

Everyone shows their emotions differently; you scream, jump up and down, become silent, smile or frown and everyone, from time to time, cries. Whether from sadness or joy, why do we cry? When faced with troublesome news, the stress of the day or maybe just lack of sleep, we find ourselves with our faces in our hands and with tears streaming. There are three types of tears. Basal tears keep our eyes moist. Reflex tears cleanse our eyes of irritants, in the case of allergies or when cutting an onion for example. And finally, emotional tears are hormonal induced. The same nerves responsible for reflex tears reach deeper into the brain to the cerebrum which deals with emotional responses. When emotions hit in the cerebrum, hormones are released which trigger glands behind your eyes to produce tears. The emotions are triggered most commonly by stress. The positive or negative stress of good or bad news floods each of our systems differently causing various responses. Those more "sensitive" therefore produce higher levels of hormones to be released causing stronger responses, like crying.

Have you ever been in a situation which you don't really want to cry it out right there and then? Because of the hormones, holding back tears actually produces more stress making it even harder to hold in. The release of tears by crying acts as a physical release of hormones which is why, you really do feel better after letting it out and crying. Next time try focusing on the process rather than the reason to calm yourself down. Now we know, it's proven - cry it out and you'll feel better.