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.