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?

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.

cha-ching

It just seems to fall out of men's mouths, first subtly as in a suggestion towards their central park address. I politely smile and move on to another subject. Somehow, "where did you grow up" or "what do you like to do for fun" translates into an answer about what exotic place they spent their childhood and how they like to spend their weekends in the Hamptons (you know, very low-key). I don't really know how much more delicate I can be. Take my shrugging you off, not returning your calls and pretending to ignore you as a sign - you can't buy my love or attention.

I am well aware that I live in a city that revolves around what you wear, where you eat and what you look like, but when did men loose their manners and all sense of dating etiquette? Just because your opening your wallet to buy me a drink does not mean I owe you a goodnight kiss. Because you told me your apartment overlooks the city will not get you a second date, rather the opposite. Why does it seem like every man in New York City is willing to buy me Madison Avenue but no one is willing to hold the door?

Don't take me wrong, I appreciate being spoiled at times. I adore thoughtful cards and unexpected gifts. I do not however understand why men feel it necessary to explain to me at length the types of cars they drive, apartments they own and professional hierarchy. All it says is, you're insecure and you think that I value money over a personal relationship. How sad that I live in a place where women feed off of this information? You know what would really impress me? A phone call instead of a text, commenting on my laugh rather than my ass or offering a hand when I'm trying to climb (as smoothly as possible) out of a cab. As a single gal in New York City I just feel the need to put it out there for all the single men, it's not rocket since, it's romance.

guac-a-mole-me

While in sunny Charleston, South Carolina over Memorial Day weekend, I celebrated a good friend's birthday. Her mum took her out for a 2 hour shopping trip so all of us visiting were able to get to the market and prep for the surprise party. I contributed with fresh guacamole which turned out better than I had anticipated. I went out on a whim having that this was the first time I was making it from scratch. I doubled the recipe since I was making it for a party of 10. It took 30 minutes (mostly because I was eating and talking between) and came out delish! I think I'm going to make another batch this weekend to enjoy in the park.

Ingredients
2 ripe avocados
1/2 red onion
1/2 tomato
1-2 serrano chilies or jalapeños
1 lime
2 tablespoons of cilantro leaves
coarse salt to taste
fresh grated black pepper to taste

Cut the avocados in half and remove the seed. Scoop avocado from peel. Usually I cut up the avocado into small pieces to make mashing easier. Place in mixing bowl and mash with a fork. Chop your onion, tomato and cilantro leaves, add to avocado. Remove the stems and seeds from your chilies or jalapeños and dice up. Add to mixing bowl to taste. Be sure to taste as you go so that you don't make it too spicy! Add salt and pepper to taste. Cut your lime in half and squeeze both halves into mixing bowl. Most of the recipe is done to taste because your fresh ingredients will vary. Enjoy!

the naked truth

Charlotte: I didn't grow up in a naked house.
Carrie: Well I didn't either.
Charlotte: {looking towards a naked woman in the locker room} I bet she grew up in a naked house.
Carrie: She might still live in a naked house.

"Sex and the City, Attack of the five foot ten woman"

Living in a city where roommates are a norm to break down the cost of rent, you learn to live along side other people's habits. Dishes in the sink, singing in the shower, sleep schedules, etc. But can nudity be grouped within this category or is it something all together separate? With the understanding that there are many situations that may change the opinion about this, take my own for instance. I live with a woman my own age. Someone I knew in college but wasn't exceptionally close with. Out of the two of us, I am the noted "naked roommate." Being scatterbrained and doing several things at once usually means I'm part getting ready, part on the phone, part eating and part trying to get dressed. I'm clumsy too, add this to the equation. I drop foundation daily which splatters all over the sink and usually onto myself. I catch my shirt and necklace in my hair brush when I blow dry my hair. I can't possibly put curlers in without burning my scalp and sweating to death from the unbearable heat. I feel comfortable walking around half dressed when I'm getting ready or say my self tanner is setting in but does this mean it's acceptable? Not always. I know that my lack of clothing doesn't offend my roommate but what if it did? How would that make me feel? When it comes to nudity, why are some of us more comfortable than others?

Is it sibling related; having brothers vs. sisters? Is it location specific; growing up in a warm vs. cold environment? Or is it religion and moral specific? For me it comes down to being comfortable with myself. Everyone has things they would like to change or improve upon but this understanding seems to even out the field. I think my opinion would change if I lived with someone who was less thrilled by my mindless nudity. (For the record I am usually in a bra and underwear out of respect!) Where do you yourself draw the line? Are you the naked roommate/housemate? Or are you the one shielding your eyes as your roommate bares all? Comments welcome :)

the wave

The ocean is in constant motion. The surface of the ocean is pushed by the wind which creates movement at different speeds. As the air tumbles forward and the ocean moves to and fro, a circular motion is created. The downward and upward pressure cause a wave to form. The back of the wave tumbles forward but beneath the crest, the water moves towards the back to continue the cycle and to create a new wave.

If relationships are the ocean, it's only a matter of time until they build up and tumble forward. The wedding wave seems to be breaking all around me. Every time I blink it seems someone new is getting engaged and then married. Friends, friends-of-friends, family, family-through-friends. At 25 I can hardly accomplish half of what I need to in a weekend let alone plan a wedding and organize engagement, rehearsal and bachelor-type events. When did we grow up? When did these flings and boyfriends become fiancées and (pause) husbands? I can't help but feel like I'm being pulled by the undertow. You know that feeling when you're swimming out and suddenly you're a quarter of a mile away from where you started. You panic, you look for your friends, your towel, anything that looks familiar but the truth is, you're on a whole other beach.

I find it most amusing that I never ride out the waves in the ocean but dive beneath them. How many waves can you dive under until one comes alone so strong and powerful that it sweeps you up? When will I get tired of going against the current? How many waves will pass until one brings me back to shore?

I'm optimistic that as this wedding wave breaks, that there are plenty more waves to come. Some that I'll dive beneath, some that may pull me under and toss me back up and one that will push me safely back to shore. I may end up on another part of the beach all together but when I do, I'll make it home.

seasonal habits

Every weekend seems to come and go faster than the previous one. I feel like the seasons here in

NYC influence my weekend routine more than anything else. Fall means football and Penn State alumni gatherings. I seem to spend more time reading and in coffee houses during this season than any other. Winter is used to lay low, a sort of hibernating with lovers and friends either in the comfort of your apartment or that of a warm bar. Spring slowly crawls in and everyone seems to wipe the cobwebs from their eyes, get back in touch with friends who have been M.I.A. all winter and break in new running sneakers. And then, there is a NYC summer. Every restaurant, store, bar and shop has their windows wide open. Drink and food specials last from 10 am until 4 am and the city buzzes with the sound of laughter and air conditioners. While I don't have a car here, I am blocks away from a train to take me to the shore whenever I need to escape and less blocks away from the park to sprawl out, throw a ball around and picnic with friends. Just thinking about summer makes me crave lemonade, fresh mussels and sunglasses. The weekends seem longer in the summer because the week seems so much shorter. Here's to counting down until hot summer days and warm summer nights. Have a wonderful weekend.

at your fingertips

I live in a city where psychics are a dime a dozen. There are 15 places one could go right around the corner from my apartment to get their future revealed. Once, at 15 years old, I had my palm read. It was at total random with my best friend Mallory while down the shore for a week. At 15 there is hardly much to do and we figured we could space $10 and a good laugh. The experience was light hearted and we both left wondering if anything she said would hold any weight later in life. I was told three main things about my future. 1. I would have a creative career path. 2. I would be asked to be married twice and the first time I should most definitely say no. 3. I would have twins.

At 15 I was planning on being a veterinarian. A creative career never crossed my mind because I instantly associated it with being a "starving artist." But here I am, 10 years later, a graphic designer. At 20 I was told that by senior year, my at the moment boyfriend was planning on asking me to marry him, I said no. 2 out of 3 seem to be pretty good odds and it makes me wonder, are these things happening because my conscious links them to the palm reading or were these things set out for me and completely out of my own control? What would of happened if she would have told me something terrible? Would that have affected me also or would I of been more reluctant to believe her because I didn't want it to be true? I know this sounds spacey and far out but it really does make you wonder. Later in life (much later I may add) if I do end up with twins I may have to track down the psychic. What do you think? Palm readings, tarot cards, magically crystal balls - believer or skeptic?

fish dish

I'm not much in the kitchen past breakfast foods. However in hopes of eating better and crossing off a personal 'to-do' of learning to cook, last night I prepared panko crusted tilapia for dinner. The entire dish took 30 minutes to make from start to finish and was easy as can be. It was also not only edible but delish. I escaped with only one burn on my hand. The dish cost about $8 which if you know about NYC, you can't even get a sandwich under that for lunch. Here's the recipe I used but mostly just for the ingredients. Once you get it all on the table, it just makes sense how to go about it. I also did not bake my dish but broiled it because it took only 7 minutes per side and everything I bake, burns. Enjoy!

perfect pair

Whenever I'm at dinner or thinking about making dinner it always stumps me on which wine to pair with which food. I had clipped out a cheat sheet from a magazine years ago which I recently found again and thought I'd put to good use. It's simple, useful pairings makes selecting a wine easy as can be. I'm sure there are tons of opinions about which could be flip flopped but for now, this will do. Enjoy!

looking back

Ever stop and think about where you are currently in your life, how you got there and where you came from? That's the type of spell I was under all weekend. I believe it was the juxtaposition of being surrounded by old and new friends who have come from such different places in my life. I've been calling this stage of my life the 'between' because I am literally between the good and bad and the hard and easy. I keep finding myself in situations where I feel like I'm either in a fairy tale or a horror movie. I've realized that somethings change and then some people never do. I was taken to the beautiful 21 Club for dinner with an amazing group of new friends. It's funny how things change, how you get from one place to another and how far you have yet to go. As I quickly approach my 25th birthday, there will be much more change to come. My gift to myself is working on positive change, with positive situations and people around me. Goodbye bad karma, out with the bad, in with the good.

cuba in february

It seems to be a bit of a trend here for my weekends to end up at specialized, themed restaurants and bars. This past Saturday was spent tucked away in the lower east side of Manhattan at the rum social club, Cienfuegos. I was turned on to the spot by my roommate's boyfriend, Tom. So we climbed into a cab and off we went. Greeted by a life-size Virgin Mary bronze fountain, stadium wall seats and swanky bartenders, I felt like I was transported to Cuba in the mid summer. After a quick "Brooklynite" at the bar, a smooth mix of honey, rum and lime, we went upstairs to our table to enjoy a Isla Punch bowl and Cuban hors d'oeuvres. Not only were the drinks and food absolutely wonderful, the decor of the place was out of a dream. From the owners of Death & Co and Mayahuel, this place is another hit. Like Pravda, the door is strict so arrive early (no reservations taken) and know that this place is worth the wait. I can't wait to go back!

Сюрприз! (Surprise!)

Time has gotten away from me again. Between my absurd hours at work, moving and social outings, I've been ignoring this blog. During all the craziness of the past few weeks I was able to successfully plan a surprise birthday for my best friend. The party happened at Pravda, a russian vodka bar in Soho with 14 of our closest friends. It's nearly impossible to pull one over on him and if you know me, I'm terrible at keeping secrets. With the two combined, it's amazing this party even happened. I highly recommend you visit Pravda at least once. I'll be going back for sure in the near future. Dine on the Zakouski platter and sip on any of their wonderful martinis (extra dirty vodka martini for this gal). Make sure you call ahead though, the place fills up quick and the doors is strict.

what'll it be?

I'm always envious when in a movie, there is a perfectly stocked bar in an apartment. Would you like a nightcap? Done. Would you prefer a gin or vodka martini? Tada. So this post is a simple list of how to easily stock your own personal bar with the essentials. The list was taken from a few blogs, additional websites and my own minimal bartending knowledge. There were a lot of hardware items I've left off, I hardly use a cocktail shaker but I figured this may be useful for others. I also didn't include any juices because none of my friends or I use them as mixers. Tonic and club soda fly fine with us but make your own amends and of course comments and tips are always welcome and encouraged! Cheers!

Hardware:
If you want to measure out your cocktails a really great set of hardware can be purchased here. I'm more accustom to free pouring which breaks down to a count per 1/4 oz.

Standard Shaker - Metal is best. The shakers with rubber for 'better grip' just stick and become more of a mess than anything.
Corkscrew - Go with an original design and nothing fancy. Odds are you're going to break up the cork with anything special and who wants cork with their wine, not me!

Spirits:
A bottle or so of each. If you drink more of one than another, double up on that and do a small bottle of the others. No need to overstock, no one (in Manhattan anyway) has extra room.

Vodka, Gin, Bourbon, Tequila, Whiskey, Scotch or Rye and Rum - light or dark, your choice of poison

Liqueurs:
Cointreau/Triple Sec - Depending on what you want to pay
Dry Vermouth/Sweet Vermouth - Depending on how you drink your martinis

Wine:
Again this depends on your personal taste. We drink more red than white but it's good to have both for company.

Other:
Simple Syrup, Grenadine - Rose's is my personal favorite, Lemon Juice, Lime Juice - Again, Rose's it's the best!, Tonic, Club Soda, Martini Olives, Maraschino cherries and Coarse Salt