arm candy

So you see a guy at a bar. He's cute, stylish but not too stylish, seems normal and speaks well. You share a drink, some small talk. No girlfriend in sight, no wedding band. As he goes to order another drink you see it, his man jewelry. Not a watch but an actual bracelet that he's taken the time to select, purchase and put on this evening. Someone down the line told him, "No way man, that bracelet isn't feminine at all. It's cool." I'm here to tell you, you're friends are lying to you.

There are only two items of jewelry that a man should own. The first is a watch and the second is a wedding band. That's it, no exceptions. Man jewelry carries a distinct personality which completely cancels out that conversation we just had and instantly puts you in the friend zone.

Man jewelry tells me that you are conscious about what you wear and so conscious that you think you need a bracelet or necklace to feel like you've "completed your outfit." This means you probably take longer to get ready than I do. It says that you see yourself as masculine with a sensitive side. I don't want to know that up front. You can tell me all about your soft side on date 6, which mind you, you'll never make it to because of your man jewelry. Finally it tells me that some female in your life, either a past girlfriend or maybe even your own mother told you it looked okay. This bothers me most of all, it looks ridiculous. All of this leads up to the same end; you're not getting my number. Think of this as your own personal public announcement and soft nudge; leave your leather, gold and hemp bracelets at home.

flight risk

It never ceases to amaze me that no matter how excited or how wonderful the trip ahead of me is, about a week before I am set to leave I get in my head that if I get on the plane, something terrible will happen. I'm not scared of planes, trains, cars, etc. It's being unavailable for a period of time when they make you turn your phones off and knowing that to get back to wherever I need to be will take much more time and effort that I might not be capable of given the situation.

From my travels (which are not plenty) I've realized that I am one of those terrible itinerary people. I need to know where, when, how and why for all actions leading up for me to get on the plane, train or car. This was a problem a few years ago when I was heading to Killington, Vermont for a ski weekend where I was left without my answers. What was supposed to be a relaxing, stress-free birthday trip, left me with extreme anxiety and a miniature explosion from my boyfriend at the time who boasted, "Why can't you just let me handle it?"

So now, a week out of leaving for Charleston, South Carolina for Memorial Day the excessive list making and planning begin. Let me share with your some of the humorous steps I will go through: I will obsessively charge my phone, ipod and kindle. I will list of every item I need to bring and access which are deemed "southern appropriate." I will completely lose my appetite three days before my flight and live on coffee alone. I will read and re-read my plane itinerary 50 times convincing myself that I booked the wrong time or place. It's absolutely embarrassing but I've come to learn that I can't do anything but help balance out the stress with a good dose of humor. I know I'm ridiculous but at least I can laugh at myself.

let's get high

Have you ever taken a drive and arrived at your destination without knowing how you got there? You try to remember the last few minutes, if you stopped at all the stop signs, if you ran any red lights, if you were speeding, but nothing registers. Your mind was obviously somewhere else. This is why I run.

I began running when I graduated. Half because I wanted to explore some of the city I was living in and half because I didn't want to pay the high costs of a gym membership. What I discovered was I had a similar phenomena of arriving at a destination without fully being aware of how I had gotten there. The run always begins the same way. The first 5-7 minutes are a physical and emotional battle. A laundry list of things I need to do, people I need to call back, work that I still need to finish rip though me. My muscles are cold and my ankles ache. I skip every song on my ipod. From minute 7-12 I start to find my step. I find myself listening to my breathing, becoming aware of the way my foot hits the pavement. After minute 12 until the point where I find myself at the end of my playlist, at the finish line of my run, I am completely blank. The easiest way for me to explain the feeling is when you wake up from a realistic dream and you can remember everything yet nothing about it. It resonates as good or bad but then nothing. Your memory escapes and you are just left with a feeling.

My feeling is best described as light. I called bullshit on the rumored "runners high" until I realized, that's exactly what my body and mind does when I set in my pace and breathing. The downfall is that my body is unable to register when I've pushed myself too far. I end my run without feeling tired or sore and head back home to stretch and relax. 30 minutes later I'm singing a different tune. I realize that I've worn blisters into my feet, my hips feel like they've been cracked in half and I'm so thirsty that it feels like I might drown with all the water I drink. There is a still a debate about the truth of a runners high. Why some experience it and some do not and which environments, measures of time, speed and overall health promote it. Luckily unlike my previous example of driving a car without remembering if you stopped at a red light, running doesn't put anyone else in danger. I can float along for 50 or so minutes left with a blissful feeling of lightness.

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.

short story

When exactly do you toss your leggings to the back of your dresser come spring? Do you wait until you see another baring all or are you the first one to break out your shorts and skirts with legs au naturel? The weather in NYC has been less than desirable lately but on those days that promise sun and a little bit of warmth I dream of stretching out on the park lawn. The problem with the beginning of spring though is winter skin. Months without sun exposure leaves my skin uneven. I plan to jump start my tan with lots of running outside and Jergens natural glow lotion. Out of all the self tanning lotions, I feel that this one smells the least strong. I 'water down' the lotion with a pump of perfumed lotion to make streaks less visible and to knock down the smell even more. I also have extremely sensitive skin and this is one of the only products that doesn't make me break out. What do you do to prep your skin for spring and summer to come?

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!

monday dash

Monday morning madness...you know what I'm talking about. When you get snooze 6 times only to realize that you have exactly 14 minutes to shower, do your makeup and hair, have breakfast, dress and scoot out the door. Monday is always a rush for one big, fat reason; Sunday. Sunday which brings the heavy of all those things you meant to do Saturday but didn't do because you were too busy socializing or sleeping in. It's inevitable that Sunday night I can never fall asleep. I think about all the things I didn't get to and all the things I need to do for the upcoming week. My professor in college had a motto that went; worry in order. I'm adopting it as my own. It puts some sort of organization to all the craziness. Happy Monday everyone and if you do have to worry, worry in an orderly fashion.

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!

red in a book

In January I posted about my "blessed journal" where I was writing down 5 things at the end of each day that I was happy for. I was using a ratty small notebook that for a while was lost in the move, found again, spilled on (tea before bed), etc. For my birthday my wonderful roommate, Valerie gifted me with the Kate Spade "Spade Journal" which now has replaced the old journal. The fabric cover with gold stamped spade is the perfect addition to my bedside collection. I'm not a fan of books that aren't spiral because I feel the pages fall out too easily but because I'm not using it for more that a few minutes a day, this one will probably last the test of time. Thank you Valerie.