Right before the demon escaped…
Right before the demon escaped…
Well, I guess after being here a year I am finally experiencing things a typical city person would experience in their house. These past two days my little fortress of solitude has been attacked by first a roach (or VERY large bug. Species unidentified) and tonight a mouse (btw- both were the same size..).
Last night, my friend Jay was over and we were getting ready to meet with our friends and have a fun girls night out. After primping we were collecting our stuff when I see the world biggest bug run across my hall. Thankfully, I have two cats and my girl, V took off after said bug which had just zig-zagged into the doorway of my room. She swatted it back to the hallway and proceeded to play with it (ie: repeatedly swatting it against the wall) until I stopped screaming long enough to grab a bowl and throw it over it. I had originally grabbed a cup but after looking at the thing again realized a cup was too small. I kid you not, this was the mouse/roach hybrid that they joke about on how I met your mother. I threw the bowl over it, which pissed off my cat, and jumped around in place for a good ten minutes. All the while Jay was also jumping around and screaming. Now, I am a grown women of 29. I am mature and responsible and capable of handling my own dilemmas. So like any other adult I knew what I had to do next. I called my mommy.
After asking 3 times if I was drunk she finally calmed me down and told me some ways to get rid of said bug. I decided to ignore all her advice and do something on my own. Not the best idea in hindsight.
Still dressed in my clubbing attire I proceeded to put on knee high rain boots and had the brilliant idea of pushing the bowl to the front door where I could then get rid of it. Great idea right? Wrong. One, there is a step up front where my door meets the stairway hallway and two, I couldn’t let the bug loose in my stairway to just let it find its way back in, or worse, lurk in the hall for the rest of my life (we all know these damn things live longer than us). So, there I am, boots on, bowl pushed up against the door frame, and Jay still bouncing and squealing behind me.
This is where my next brilliant idea comes into play. I will slid a piece of paper under the bowl and VERY carefully carry the bowl/paper down four flights of stairs and onto the street where I will set it free and silently pray it gets hit by a car. What could possibly go wrong with this plan? So I find a piece of paper, slide it under and step back to get the nerves to pick up the paper. After dancing around and a few fake out attempts I suck it up, grab the paper by the sides, lift it up and BAM! Out jumps the roach! The next five minutes are a blur of screaming at the top of my lungs, slamming the front door close so it couldn’t get back in and running to the far side of the house, shutting doors behind me like I’m trying to block a serial killer. I eventually got a hold of myself, stopped screaming and then shook Jay so she would stop screaming too. We bravely walked back out and stood five feet from the front door trying to figure out what to do next.
Eventually I grabbed a boot and had Jay SLOWLY open the front door so I cold look out and see where the demon from hell went. She hid behind the door and I crept out, wielding my fashionable weapon. I looked down, I looked left, I looked right, but it had seemed the thing had ran off in the night terrorize someone else. I stopped holding the boot in front of me like it was a knife and turned to go back inside when out of the corner of my eye came the faintest of movements. I snapped my head up and there the sucker was. On the ceiling right above the staircase. We were trapped. He had blocked our only path to freedom from this nightmare. I ran back inside to share this unfortunate news with Jay. The only way we were getting out was to go through it. After going through all the stage of denial we finally agreed we would have to sneak by it and get outside help. Jay went first, tip toeing down the first four steps till she was free from its path and then running like hell down the other flights. I was next. I slowly closed the door as to not startle it, even though we had been slamming the door all night, cursed myself for switching into my three inch stiletto heels instead of keeping my boots on and made my way down.
I don’t know what his game plan was, but we both managed to make it all the way down and outside. I was struck by the irony of it being upstairs in the building and me being on the street, but decided to rectify that quickly. I confidently walked into the bar my apartment was over, found the only male bartender on duty and proceeded to beg him to come kill the big scary bug. After making fun of me he agreed, grabbed a rag and bravely walked up the stairs, swatted the thing down, stomped on it about ten times and wiped up the body to dispose of it. End of crisis, my home was once again my palace.
That is, until about two hours ago. Less than 24 hours from the first attack a different method of torture has fallen upon me. I spent the day cleaning and bleaching my house top to bottom, had made a lovely dinner, cleaned up after, and was laying in bed writing for my book when I see my male cat Cass walk in with his toy in his mouth. I was smiling at him when he set his toy down and it ran under my bed. That’s when it dawned on me this was not a toy mouse, THIS WAS A REAL MOUSE. I wonder if the shock I got was what Pinocchio’s maker felt when he started running all around the room. I don’t know how that old mans heart was able to handle it!
I screamed “KILL IT!” and Cass, like the very good boy he is, ran under the bed and brought the mouse back to the rug and killed it. I crawled into the fetal position and cried.
I have dispensed of the body, but I want this house to know that it has declared war and I plan on fighting back. I have two very trained, albeit slightly furry, killing assassins that are on duty 24/7, I am going to unleash chemical warfare tomorrow, and also, you know,I put up those sticky bug traps. So take THAT!
If none of that works, well… I’ll be looking for a new place to live. 😛 Wish me luck!
I read a great book this weekend called On Writing by Stephan King. I highly recommend it to anyone wanting to write whether it be blog, story stories or novels. It was the kick in the ass I desperately needed lately. I want to finish my book, I NEED to finish my book, if just for myself. Not only that, but I have so many other ideas for story stories, manuscripts, novels… the list goes on.
The writers block I have been stuck in has been killing me. I was forcing myself to write but what was coming out was complete trash. Trust me when I say that. It wasn’t even close to what I know I can write. I lost that little fire inside, I was doubting everything I wanted to put down, I was trying to add more to the story then what was needed simply because I didn’t think what I was writing was good enough. I thought everyone that read it would think of only how juvenile it was. I was afraid it was reflecting poorly on me and I wouldn’t be taken seriously.
Well, screw all of that. I don’t write because I want validation from anyone. I write because I have to. I have all these thoughts and vivid pictures in my head and if I don’t get them out I think I will go insane. I don’t just have ideas, I have whole plot lines complete with twists mapped out. I have characters with their own personalities, their own histories, their own destinies inside me. And not just for the book I’ve been writing but for dozens of others because, I am a writer.
I let myself forget that for a while. I wasn’t owning up to the fact that I write because it find an immense sense of joy from it. Its not just my hobby, it defines me. I find inspiration everywhere. I am constantly writing stories everyday, even if I am not writing them down. When I play “What if?” with Mike, I am making up stories. When I’m walking down the street and I only catch half of a sentence someone is saying as they pass and I finish their thought with something I’ve made up in my head I am making up stories.
And so what if they are juvenile? They are fun. And I don’t care if every single person that reads anything I choose to write down, or any story I decide to say out loud thinks they are immature. I don’t spin stories to make anyone else happy but myself.
I am indescribably overjoyed that I got my passion back. I have had words pouring out of me all day long and I feel like I’m an a high right now. It is 10 pm and I honestly don’t know how I am going to be able to calm down enough to go to sleep. I would love nothing more than to stay up till the early hours releasing all of this creative energy.
Its like there was a dam built, and it had a few holes in it, so some stuff trickled through but now its been blown wide open. It’s just up to me to take all this new found inner power and harness it. And God, for the first time in a really long time I can not wait to.
In the book King says that to really write, you have to do 2000 words a day. In the beginning you can do 1000 6 days a week but by the 2nd month you have to be at 2000 everyday without fail. I think I can do this.
No, I KNOW I can do this. I will do this. I have stories to tell and share with the world and I want to let them out.
I am a writer. And even if I am not a good one, a competent one or *God I wish* a GREAT one. I am one. And I am not letting anyone tell me differently.
Summer is here and boy is it hot! NYC is going through a major heat wave right now.
While the city has slowed down due to the heat, my work has not. We have had several large events to cover this month and will hopefully have a lull next month to recoup. Last week alone I worked for the intrepid and the triathlon and tonight I will be helping with the all star game.
Life isn’t all work and no play for me however as I will be spending most weekend with Mike poolside in the Hamptons. Great way to reset my weeks if you ask me 🙂
My day to day life has hit a nice routine and I’ve even found time to start going to the gym 2-3 times a week. Money is still tight but I am managing the best I can. No one said city life was cheap!
I am hoping to visit my cousin in CT sometime next month and have a girls weekend trip planned to Fire Island with my friend from work. I am trying to spend most of my summer working on as many work events as possible for the exposure/ experience, talking with my at work mentor about how to better my press writing, reading up on ways to improve PR strategies, attending the brain storming meetings our Account Execs have and over all getting ready for the fall when I plan to look for better employment. I have learned a lot and made many friends at this company but I need room to grow and have been told there isn’t any here. We will see what the next season holds for me.
In two weeks I will have officially lived in NYC for a full year. It’s said most people give up by then however I personally think I have flourished and so far I am achieving all the goals I set out for myself.
Do I have the amazing PR job I imagined I have and live in a 1 bedroom all to myself with a wardrobe of fantastic stylish new york outfits and shoes? No. But I have an apartment I’ve grown fond of that is finally fully furnished and I have a job at a PR firm which is a great stepping stone. I can’t expect to have it all right away. I reset my whole life when I moved out here and have to fight my way to the top from the bottom. And that’s ok with me.
Recently, a girl I know from work decided to move to LA. She was born and raised in NYC and asked me what to expect. I told her to expect to want to turn around and leave for the first 6 months, possibly longer. I told her that it is such a shock to go from everything you know and are comfortable with to somewhere new. Frankly, it sucks at first. But if you stick it out you will slowly see yourself grow and adapt. I told her to make sure she didn’t give herself an out. Don’t go and say, “Oh if it’s horrible I will go home.” Instead tell yourself you HAVE to stay for x amount of years before you will go home.
Last year I was afraid I wouldn’t make it to my deadline. I had told myself until I turned 30 (year and a half in nyc) I couldn’t leave. Now I can’t see myself ever leaving. Before the thought of being here for 3, 5, 10 years seems daunting. Now, it just seems normal. Although I do miss my family in CA, NY feels like home.
Well, I am officially back from Paris even if I am not completely back on NYC time. Jet lag may in fact, be the actual death of me.
At least I would go with a giant smile on my face. Paris was everything I ever hoped it could be and more. I do not think I can fully express how much I loved every moment of it via words but I am going to try my very best! So here goes nothing:
We took a flight there right after work and medicated ourselves so that we would sleep the whole 8 hours and wake up in Paris in the morning. Our plan was executed with just a few flaws (Screaming baby three rows in front of us, ear plugs not being 100% effective, lack of room to get comfortable…the standard airplane complaints) We landed in Paris, got through customs and hopped in a cab. This is where we encountered out first little mistake. 1. We didn’t have the address to give to the driver 2. We didn’t factor in morning rush hour traffic ( the ride was close to 2 hours long) and 3. We didn’t speak french. thankfully we were able to pull up the address and make it to our hotel. We checked in set our bags down, grabbed an umbrella, and hit the road! Our first stop was at a small cafe for some breakfast (this egg and cheese dish was to die for) and then we wandered on to Norte Dame. We took our time walking over there and walking inside and around the gardens outside of it. It was beautiful, one of the things I cant really describe with words without some how take justice away from its beauty. We walked around and did the padlock bridge (where you write your names on a lock, secure it to the bridge then throw the keys in the river to symbolize that your love is ever lasting) Very romantic, and I was very excited to leave a part of us in France. We later found out that we had clipped the lock to the wrong bridge, and had clipped ours to the smallest bridge in all of Paris but I’m oddly ok with that. Makes it a little more unique, just like us.
Mike showed me Sainte Chapelle which in my opinion is the most beautiful and awe inspiring building in all of Paris. The stain glass windows took my breath away. The way the sunlight shone through them and the amount of detail was unbelievable.
We spent the rest of the day walking around in the rain, eating, and enjoying our first day there. It was amazing how we could be walking down a little street, turn the corner and BAM there was this massive statue, or this huge building. The whole city is ful of little secrets and I had fun with Mike trying to find them all out.
The second day we got up, had breakfast in the hotel and hit the road. We did most of the touristy things like the Arc De Triomphe, Eiffel Tower, and other smaller areas. ( the square where the be-headings used to be, etc) It was fun but exhausting. We went out to a little bar that night with very friendly bar tenders who made drinks based on what they thought we would like. I’m not sure why everyone says the French are rude when everyone (aside from one surly cab driver) was amazing friendly and helpful. I guess it just like how NYC gets a bad rep when it shouldn’t.
The third day we went to Palace of Versailles. I would encourage people to go if they had a day to spend in the gardens, but the Palace itself was a bit extensive (understatement of the year!!) and after an hour Mike and I were literally frantically looking for the way out of the palace. However, we did walk around the garden which had the cutest little trails and ponds and we had a picnic outside of Marie Antoinette’s cottage by a lake. It was perfect and relaxing and so serene. I know when I get stressed and need to think of my “Happy place” that will be one of the places I think of. Laying in the green grass next to Mike after snacking on a baguette, listening to the trees blow in the wind and the ducks call each other across the pond. Seeing fish jump out of the water to catch the bugs that are laying on top of it and feeling grounded and peaceful and like we are the only two people in the world right then. Even reflecting on it now, its almost like I can physically feel my heart rate slow down and my breathing get deeper and its impossible to contain the happy smile from coming across my face.
For our last day we decided to take it easy- sleep in- and wander the city. We started with brunch at this amazing nondescript place with live jazz music. After that we walked around the pere lachaise cemetery where Oscar Wilde and Jim Morrison are buried. Some of the headstones went back to the 1800’s and the whole place was quiet and full of sun light filtering down through the trees. From there we went to the Louvre Park and stuffed ourselves with dessert crepes and found a place in the grass in the sun to lay down. We shared headphones and listened to music while lazily dozing off.
We capped off the last night there with a boat ride on the Seine river and we made it to the Eiffel Tower in time to sit in the park with a bottle of champagne right when the clock struck midnight and the tower lit up. The whole day was perfect full of great food, laughs, and lots of love.
I tried convincing Mike to run away with me for the summer and to find a little place to stay there but sadly, we both had to return back to reality, New York, and worst of all- work.
I catch myself day dreaming about everything we saw and did and it makes me smile. Even if the rest of the summer proves to be stressful or long or hard- at least I’ll always have Paris to reflect upon, which will make this the best summer of my life thus far. 🙂
OK… I know it’s been a while since my last update.
I want to start off by saying sorry! Life has a way of distracting you and making time fly by as I am sure you all know!
This past month has been a blur. I was in California for a weekend for my friends wedding. It was nice to see my family but I feel as though I didn’t have enough free time while I was there to really enjoy it. But, I saw my grandparents (not for nearly enough time) watched tv and ate breakfast with my parents and even got in some clothing shopping! Mike met me there and we were able to have one night to ourselves in Venice Beach before having to return home. ( Love and miss you mom!)
The following weekend we went out to the Hamptons and although we couldn’t really enjoy the pool since the weather sucked, we had a great group of people and enjoyed some great dinners (one of which I am still going to hound Lynne for the recipe for!)
Last weekend Mike was in Chicago and I made sure to make absolutely no plans. After traveling and working so much it was nice to do whatever I felt like doing at any given moment. I ended up staying in and watching girlie romantic comedies Friday night, sleeping in then cleaning my house house Saturday and going out with my BFF’s Taryn and Micaela Saturday night. The three of us ended up staying local and had an impromptu sleep over when they decided to stay at my place instead of making the trek back to their houses. It’s nice to have close girl friends. I spent the next day at a birthday brunch for my friend Emily and then running errands. It was refreshing to have a weekend home to relax and get things situated.
This past week I have been sitting for the owner of the company assistant and that was stressful to say the least. However, Mr Rubenstein himself now knows my name as well as some other higher ups. Plus since he has been in PR for YEARS and built this company from the ground up he had some really interesting stories I was glad to have heard.
I am hoping this next week flies by since next Wednesday Mike and I will be on a plane to Paris! 🙂 ::Enter huge smile and happy dance here:: I am sure I will have plenty to post about after that!
Now, it’s back to the grind I go!
My life is perfectly lined up right now just the way I want it. I can’t help the giddy feeling that I am right on the cusp of something great and I am exactly where I should be in life. The path was rocky and had a lot of interesting little detours but I am perfectly happy with the direction its going right now. I was thinking yesterday morning when I missed the E train by 3 seconds since I stopped to get a newspaper that everything happens for a reason. I have absolutely no regrets in my life because every twist and turn you make, every error or lapse in judgment, makes you preciously who you are today. I can guarantee some people look at their life and regret everything. They aren’t happy where they are. I, on the other hand, am ecstatic about where I am. I won’t lie, a tiny part of me if worried that things are going TOO well and something is bound to happen, but for the most part, I’m content. My biggest problem in life right now is the great debate I’m having with myself on whether to buy an iPad, tablet, or new laptop!
For May I decided to reward myself I really complete each day writing 500 words. It’s a struggle, not because I lack anything to write about, but because I start writing about one thing, and find 3 other ideas lurking in my brain that I want to write about instead. I don’t have ADD in my everyday life, but my imagination certainly does. I need to buckle down and finish one project so that I can prove to myself that I can. I have been keeping a note pad by my bed so I can write down all the other ideas I have to save for later. I think my biggest fear is that while I’m struggling to get one out of my head and into paper (a LOT easier said than done by the way) I will forget the others. I get very annoyed with myself when I stare at a blank page for hours only to finally force out half a page of writing that I end up trashing the next day anyways. I wish I could be more organic about writing and just write when it comes to me but I’ve tried that method for a while now, and it’s not working for me. I get too caught up on my day-to-day life, or when it does strike me I’m usually nowhere near a computer or note pad. So, starting yesterday I will force myself to write every day. It sucks. It feels like homework, but I HAVE to do this. I’m hoping that after I finish one, the rest of the stories I want to write won’t feel as daunting. Besides, I don’t think anything will ever beat the rush I felt when I saw my name on the spine of the book I wrote and bound for Mike for Christmas. I know it wasn’t real but wow did it feel awesome.
Also- for future reference this post up to THIS point is 530 words.
I leave for California for a long weekend soon, and although I am excited to see my parents and family, I’m not too thrilled about anything else. I think it’s because it is such a quick trip, and most of the time is dedicated to the wedding I am in. I can’t wait to wake up in my old house, drink coffee while watching house hunters with my Mom, enjoy a home cooked meal while trading snarky banter with my quick witted Dad, and visit my Grandparents. I would like to at least drive along the coast while I am there but in truth, California feels like where I grew up, and where my family is, but not really my home anymore. It’s hard to explain but I think I feel more at ease in the big city, than I will in the laid back beach town I grew up in. I still have a ridiculous amount of pride from where I am from, and still love it with all my heart, but it’s more like a first crush. You look back fondly and smile, but you’ve also moved on. I think it’s healthy actually. I spent so long trying to figure out how to make NYC feel like home that I didn’t realize when it actually became my home. I can navigate the city with the best of them by train, car or foot, I run into people I know on the streets, it’s where I have some of the best friends I could ever ask for, and the best boyfriend I have ever had. I am in love with my tiny apartment now that I finally have it all put together, I have a good job with co-workers who I adore, and I have had some of the most amazing experience in my life here. Orange County will always be where I grew up and dreamed, but I think New York will always be where I really discovered myself and put those dreams into action. Who would have thought a West coast girl could be so happy on the East coast?