Variety is the Spice

I debated for awhile if I was going to write this entry, but I decided I would be too much of a hypocrite not to. I can understand if anyone stops reading this after the first line, but given the situation, I feel like I have to explain my feelings. Take it or leave it.

I haven’t really given much thought to the massive earthquake in China today. I’ve been in my own world, packing and thinking about myself and everything that needs to get done in the next few weeks. When I finally sat down to catch the news online and on TV, I realized how bad it was.

10,000 people.

10,000. Not 2,000 or 3,000 but 10,000. And probably much much more. That’s bigger than my college university student body. It pains me to think about this and the relatively quiet coverage it’s gotten. CNN’s playing election coverage right now. It’s easy to really just turn away from it or not feel any connection. During and after Katrina, so many of my friends just didn’t understand, didn’t reach out or just shrugged it off. I couldn’t comprehend how they didn’t grasp the situation. It pissed me off and I spent so many weeks angry at them for not being there. A lot of them hemmed and hawed about coming back home with me and truthfully, I distanced myself from them for awhile. I get that maybe they didn’t know how to help, but I couldn’t help but question friendships. I understand it now much  more, of course. It’s so easy to ignore disasters or events like that when you’re not invovled. I guess it hurt that as my friends, they would WANT to be there.

One of the few friends that did reach out to me was half a world away, studying abroad in China. I messaged him today but I haven’t heard back, so here’s to hoping all my friends and family there pop up okay soon.

I guess my point is, stuff like this makes everything that I struggle with so tiny in comparison. I wanted so badly for something to help after the storm; I can’t even imagine what’s going on in China right now. Say what you want about their human rights or politics, but something this disastrous puts us all back to being humans on an equal level. It humbles a person, ya know? It makes me feel self-absorbed and selfish and sometimes, makes me wonder why I remain friends with those that are like this daily. Is that a legit concern?

I don’t know. I’m rambling and ranting a little. About 10 fire trucks just zipped by my window. The Cards have been losing. The Hornets have been losing. Yes, I realize sports are SO insignificant but I’m in a generally blah mood. Sigh. Sorry for this slightly angry and depressing post, but the situation was too serious not to say something.

The huge beat-up cardboard box before me groans a little when I toss it out of the storage closet. It’s been hiding in the back for 3 years now, waiting patiently for me to climb through the mountain of smaller inferior boxes to return it to its glory. This thing has been through me for 7 years now; it has every single address that I’ve moved to since the end of freshmen year (which is funny since I never had movers). It even survived a flood of a storage place and survived quite well while its twin went to recycling heaven.

10 addresses in 8 years. Lots of packing, lots of places and this little post-college apartment has been my home the longest. I’ve thought about this day for years: How would I feel when I finally started packing? Would I cry? Would it be hard? Would I pack with a fervor of a restless girl ready to jump to the next chapter? Over and over, I imagined myself going through this and now that I’m here, I’m not sure how I feel. I feel ready; I know that, but it’s bittersweet. And true, things are just things but even the things I throw away, I think back to the moment I picked it up at the store and analyzed if it was worthy of my money. Like the DVD player that I waited years to get (because that’s what computers are for!) and when I finally got comfortable in my job, I purchased it and felt proud. I have a ridiculously vivid and sharp memory for little moments like those and although it’s a little sad, I’m trying to look at how far I’ve come.

When I first moved in the day after graduation, all I had was a new Walmart futon, lot of boxes and a $20 used twin bed. My friend J was staying with me until she left for the summer; I remember us ordering pizza and watching a small 12″ television with bunny ears covered in foil and perched atop 4 boxes to get the best reception by the window. Every time one of us stood up, the tv would fuzz out so we spent the nights building Target furniture that is still with me today. Later, I left for a family trip overseas and subletted my apartment to two jobless guy friends. A month passed and when I opened my door after a 10-hour drive, my apartment looked like an immigration office: mattresses strewn everywhere (our other guy friends slept there often), open suitcases of clothing tumbling out and a broken futon. So that’s how we lived for a few months until one left and then another and then it was just me.

I still have 3 weeks before the move, but people are starting to pick up furniture. Someone asked if my curtains were for sale; I burst out laughing because I had made those curtains from an expensive pattern that I fallen in love with. It was my first and last sewing project. My mom keeps calling to ask if I want her to drive up with another car to help me move. I think she forgets I’ve moved alone for years. The thing about being single and living alone is there’s no roommate or other dorm students moving at the same time. Also, I’ve apparently kept every single box for every appliance and big item I’ve ever purchased. You would think this would make packing/moving easier…

Thanks to everyone for the concerns about my grandmother. She can’t walk right now, but my dad got her a walker (which I’m sure is driving her crazy) and there’s a 24-hour nurse until she can sleep through the night and walk again. My dad emailed a photo and although she’s bruised all over, she’s grinning a strong 85-year old (or maybe she’s 88…) smile.

I had a moment today. I was working away on some meaningless project and listening to my John Mayer playlist. The song was “Split Screen Silence,” and all of a sudden I felt saturated with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. I remembered in seventh grade when we sat around dreaming of the boys we wanted to date. We were so young and so naive and had no idea how to talk to boys or how to flirt, and we had no idea what we’d be doing with them once we reached maturity. But every young girl has this pristine idea of her future. I always thought I’d meet someone, fall in love the first time and then that’s it. Simple, predictable and complete. Needless to say, I am pleased that’s not how life has happened for me. I’ve so much more enjoyed the ups and downs of relationships, despite the fact that they can hurt so much sometimes.

I was completely lost in my head during my moment. It’s one of the few times recently where I completely left my physical surroundings in favor of a more euphoric cerebral experience. It was such an intense feeling… something that’s usually lacking from my days. There are so many things in my life that don’t require much thought, and as a result I miss a lot of that super-intense emotion that really makes life worth living. And so in relationships I have become a little numbed, too.

It has been approximately 1 year and 7 months since I felt true, deep emotion for another person. I was laying in bed with the Kickboxer on a Sunday afternoon. It was one of those hot, October afternoons where you just want to lay and enjoy the last bit of heat before the cold takes over everything. He was around me, hugging me, and I kept begging him to hug tighter. At that moment it felt like he couldn’t ever be close enough. It was such an intense feeling that I can’t even begin to describe: extreme joy, excitement, love and physical sense of belonging all happening at once.

Since then there have just been a lot of mediocre boys. No one as good as the Kickboxer. No one who makes me as happy. No one who touches me the same way. No one that I’ve had such a passionate desire to just be with. Just a lot of average guys that I’m not that in to, but I continue to hang out with hoping to find what I had with the Kickboxer, and because there’s nothing better coming along.

I can fake anything. And in the end, I feel numb.

Today, I bumped into my first and probably only resistance to my quarter-life crisis plan. A former professor (I would go as far to say a friend and someone I respect and look up to) found out I was quitting my beloved job to start blind in a new city. My whole motto was, “life’s too short to be sitting around waiting for something to happen.” I like St. Louis, I love my job, I have great friends here but I’m bored and unchallenged and I’m way too young to be living a life of settled down gal.

To my surprise, she said, “I’m going to give you unsolicited advice. Life is too short to quit a job you love so much to be jobless. Take it from me, it’s hard to find something like that.” She continued on with suggesting I find a new apartment in a different area of St. Louis and re-pick up the job (they’ve hinted strongly at rehiring me after Europe) until something better comes along.

Sure, I’ve considered it. That was the initial plan. But I’ve been missing New Orleans for awhile now and getting to be home for the summer with my family and friends is just what I need to get it out of my system. Really, the only flaw in my plan is the period where I’ll have no real job and I’ll have to dig into my savings to support the family.

The conversation left me feeling confused (not confused in that I’m going to change this forward motion I’m going), but befuddled as in how she was so against it! Every reason and motivator I’ve had to make this change, she was arguing the opposite. “You’re only 25. You’re too young to be leaving something so great. And you have good friends here.” But the same could be said for leaving town for college. It was terrifying going to a new city/state and school not knowing anyone and leaving a serious boyfriend and everything I knew behind.

I feel strong in my decision, but I won’t lie and say it didn’t throw me for a few moments when someone older and that I look to for guidance was so negative toward what I see as a really positive change (even if it’s risky and scary and not completely logical). Of course I’m worried desperately; I’m the definition of the first child type A personality with responsibility and life. So what if I’m quitting an amazing job with great co-workers to be jobless and fly at the seat of my pants? If I’m going to screw up my life, might as well do it when I’m young.

I think I just may write her a postcard when I’m catching the most gorgeous sunsets in Santorini or eating delicious Italian food at the Florence market. Advice, my ass.

**Edited to update: So I just found out yesterday that my grandmother got hit by a car. She’s half way across the world so I heard about it a day later. My mom had made her start carrying my aunt’s business card in case something like this happened. The bad news was she lost a lot of blood. The good news is because she exerises/walks twice a day all over the city, she had strong bones. Sigh. Things like this terrify me. I’m not going to say life is fragile because I actually think it’s an incredibly strong force. I’ll just thank God over and over for watching over her.

This weekend while my roommate was away I found out that she has been charging me 50% more rent than what she pays. Today I confronted her and she explained that her motive for charging more for the room was that she couldn’t afford to stay in the apartment otherwise, and that she wanted to keep her lifestyle so she made the decision to charge more for the room. Way more. Like a 575/925 split for the exact same size room. This is something she failed to tell me. Apparently the timing was never right and then she feared that I would be mad so she just decided not to tell me.

Since I confronted her in a very mature, professional way she offered to take on $75 more of the monthly rent, and also the pending $50 increase in July. Therefore, my rent will actually go down to $850/month. I know it’s expensive to live in NYC, and I probably won’t find anything cheaper in a good/better location. I really do not want to leave this apartment, but on principle I’m not sure if I want to continue living with and being friends with a person who would charge such an outrageous difference in price.

So I pose the question to all you wonderful readers: What would you do? Would you stay, knowing that what you’re paying is completely unfair and are basically financing the roommate’s extravagances? Or would you say “the Hell with you, bitch,” pack up, and move, even though you may not have anything better to look forward to, and in fact might end up in a worse place?

On another note, I stumbled upon $123 on the ground yesterday. Something must be right in the universe…

In exactly one month, I’ll be sitting on a plane to Europe. Athens, to be exact. I find this idea insane. Going to Europe has been a life-long dream of mine and to finally get to live it out seems almost unreal. And to go on my own terms and my own money and without a care in the world (well, except the whole jobless thing) just makes it all the more thrilling! If I really had the time and money, I would backpack for 2 months through all of Europe, but for now, it’ll be 3 weeks of Greece and Italy. The rest will be there for future trips. No worries! Blogging will continue whenever I can find an internet café. There’s no way I’m letting this trip go unrecorded, even if I have to go back to my hand-written journal.

Thinking of Europe got me remember some miscellaneous ridiculous dreams I’ve had:

1) Traveling all over the world and eating everything. And not gaining a pound.
2) Becoming an amazing chef
3) Concert pianist (for at least once night anyways…)
4) Stopping time
5) going to Hogwarts (like we’ve all haven’t thought of it for a second)

Ridiculous and unrealistic is the key, of course. The list is much longer than that, I’m sure (mixed in with realistic possible goals like camping for a week in the Grand Canyon). What are some of your funny dreams, dear readers?

May is moving quickly now, even for being only 5 days in. I reluctantly put my furniture on Craigslist after finding out one of those pods would cost me $4500. I laughed at the woman on the phone when she gave me the quote; after hearing that I was wandering this summer, she said she should get me together with another customer that was traveling the US looking for his perfect fishing lake. When he found it, they would mail his pod to him. I didn’t have heart to tell her there was probably a big age difference between us, but at the same time, I’m intrigued.

To my surprise, the furniture got 30 emails quickly and most of it sold in a day. For whatever reason, I was a bit attached to the furniture (like a bachelor is to his old comfortable armchair or futon), so it was a mixture of disbelief and relief when I sold them (luckily, I get them for a few weeks more). I’ll take it as a sign for me to finally get to go shop at Ikea!

Other than a few meals with friends and some shopping, I spent most of the weekend alone, watching the Cubs/Cards series and NBA playoffs and taking walks out in the gorgeous spring weather. I’m trying incredibly hard not to panic about everything that’s happening and living out every moment possible here before I leave. However the closer I get to the end of May, the more I know I’ve made the right choice. A summer in New Orleans will do wonders for me (and probably fatten me up with all the delicious food I will savor, especially with Nola).

Ah, 25th year, you better be good to me.

*Sorry this entry seemed to be boring and nothing exciting like Smallbone’s fun men adventures. I just had to mention that Europe was 30 days away!

Wow. Night and Day…! You might want to sit down for this post (as if you are usually standing up when reading blogs) because it’s kind of loaded.

As mentioned in my previous post, there are actually 3 very sexy males on my team(s) that I am totally in to. We had our game yesterday and I continued to casually flirt with Mr. Mexico City. I don’t want to seem pushy, so I let him make all the advances this time. He was very chatty and I feel like we talked a lot more than usual (this is SO high school). Anyway, he couldn’t stay for happy hour, but the rest of the team went out for margaritas. Guys 2 and 3 were there. Let’s call them Mr. Soccer and miniSexyD (more on this later). Everyone was making their evening plans and a lot of the guys were planning to go out together that night. Everybody was invited and we all agreed to meet up later that night.

Cut to 12am… I have been flirting with Mr. Soccer since last fall when we met. He is the former roommate of my former coworker so I have hung out with him more than I have with any of the other soccer guys. Mr. Soccer is just a really good guy all around. Really nice, upstanding individual, but I think he’s a little shy. I tend to flirt with him as the fall back plan, like if no one else is around. It’s not very nice of me to do so, but it happens.

Also at the bar was miniSexyD, looking extremely sexy. We all hung out and drank for awhile (Happy tres de mayo) and then walked over to a karaoke bar. We got a room in the basement for our group of about 10. It was a blast! I ended up sitting next to miniSexyD because we both have incredible karaoke skills and sang a few duets. Pretty soon, every song turned into a duet with the two of us sharing a microphone… And pretty soon, Mr. Soccer pointed out that it was 5am. Holy crap! Time flew.

Now here’s the part that’s a little fuzzy. We were all getting ready to leave and miniSexyD made some comment about spending money. And I suggested that we could save money on cab fare by sharing a cab (which is absurd because he lives about 40 blocks the complete other direction)… and I suggested that we could share that cab to my house. He agreed that it would be a great idea to do so. And so we did.

We did a lot of sleeping, since it was already 5:30am when we got home, and not a whole lot else. Some kissing, obviously, but that was it. It was very pleasant. This morning we got up, walked the dog, then went for a lovely brunch on the patio at my favorite restaurant. This was the first time that we’ve actually talked alone and it turns out we have a whole lot in common. He is very intriguing to me, but being the logical/cynical person I am, I have absolutely zero expectations of this ever happening again.

Now to the creepy part. I’ve decided to call him miniSexyD after SexyD, a gentleman I was “seeing” last summer. SexyD was the first man that’s ever hurt me, and probably the only relationship (if you can even call it that) I can’t seem to get over. In a nutshell he was a ridiculously sexy, tall, voluntarily bald (hence my obsession), confident man who works in design and leads a very rich lifestyle (meaning he makes money and spends it on high quality goods that I approve of both for their status and style). I was so blinded by everything that I acted like a fumbling idiot around him and my own confidence and sense of self-worth was pushed out the window. I was insecure, nervous and stupid around him. Not good things.

miniSexyD is also voluntarily bald, lives a very rich lifestyle, is very sexy, and has many of the same quirks as SexyD. Like, to a tee… For example, he feels uncomfortable around all white objects. Kind of scary (and weird, I know, that I am attracted to people with strange OCD habits). The only difference here is that I felt like I didn’t act like an idiot this time. I was witty, cute, smart, sharp… all good things! And yet I know that he will never call me. I don’t know if it’s a genuine gut feeling I’m having or if I’m just getting this situation mixed up with the sexyD saga. I am curious to see how it all unfolds (if at all), but it also prompts the age-old debate about how to get a guy to call. I haven’t quite mastered the concept of being so ridiculously charming and hard-to-get that he MUST call me and see me again. Unfortunately I have no idea how to do it, either. Any advice is appreciated.

I had a very disappointing night. I’m not exactly sure what’s wrong with me, but I seem to be crushing on 3 of the 6 eligible men on my soccer/dodgeball teams. We all went out last night and I spent a large part of my night chatting up Mr. Mexico City, the sweet, Latino, sexy, [voluntarily] bald banker who showed up in a really well-tailored suit* last night, and who I’ve actually been in love with since he shook my hand Hello last August. Sighh… After about 30 minutes of conversation, I got the message that he does not reciprocate my feelings. I’m not used to having men not be interested in me, and it’s like I just can’t win with him. It’s kind of disorienting. Granted, I’m not exactly myself around him. I get nervous and timid and don’t always know the right words to say. And on top of my awkwardness, he’s pretty clearly uninterested. Not in an impolite way, though. He seems to either be oblivious to my advances or just not interested in dating at all right now. Either way, I’m having a tough time cracking the guy code on this one.

I was telling all of this to my soon-to-be-married friend this morning. I expressed my frustration at not being able to win him over, and also my frustration with dating in general right now. I don’t really want to be in a relationship, but I don’t necessarily want to be alone either. Overall I don’t know what I want (which is a whole other set of problems), and I would at least like to have a crush to keep things interesting. Her response was, “I know. Just be patient and don’t push it. Things will happen on their own. You don’t have to force it.” Plain, straightforward, no-frills advice. Beautiful.

In the past I have received similar advice from my other married friend: clear-cut, informed and usually 100% correct. So even though I complain A LOT about all my friends getting married (I am attending 5 weddings this year!) I guess there is some benefit. With their superb experience now they can counsel me on my love life. That’s the trade-off for allowing them to live vicariously through me. A win-win for all!

*Don’t even try to get between me and a man in a sophisticated, well-tailored suit. HOT!

“I feel like a quote out of context
Withholding the rest
So I can be free what you want to see
I got the gesture and sound
Got the timing down
It’s uncanny, yeah, you think it was me”
-Ben Folds, Best Imitation of Myself

Since childhood I’ve had trouble making friends at first. I am a harsh, offensive, rough-around-the-edges girl with the emotional hierarchy of a man. (Of course I am an optimist so I prefer to call myself “honest, upfront, genuine, confident and strong”) The females in my life who I consider my best friends have realized that most of the bad parts are tolerable because there also a lot of really great things about me: namely my enthusiasm for… everything, my cheerful personality, openness, honesty, and compassion for those around me. (some even think I’m funny!) However, the first few items on this list continue to creep up on me every time I try to make new friends. I’ve learned to be careful about what I say to new people in my life.

That being said, when I moved to New York I got a little careless. I let my guard down, which I think is okay. I don’t like feeling like I have to walk on tiptoes around people just so that my insensitive comments don’t offend them. In the grand scheme of offending people, I am pretty moderate, but sometimes sensitive people can really be put off by my attitude.

My personality has come back to bite me twice in the last month when a particularly sensitive friend (who I am still getting to know) has called me out twice ex-post-facto about something I said. The first time I thought it was nice they avoided passive-aggressive anger in favor of openly discussing a problem. But the second time really put me off. I rarely talk to this friend outside of our gatherings and the fact that she would call for this specific reason is a little unsettling. This method of problem-solving by making oneself feel better by speaking up about your feelings is relatively fine by me… I’d much rather communicate an issue and reach a resolution than sit alone and worry about it. However, it brings me right back to the same
issue I’ve had since childhood. I know who I am, and I know that I am all of the things mentioned above, good and bad. When I was younger I really struggled with reconciling my behavior with the world around me (as most adolescents do). As a young adult I’ve learned that people will think what they think and you certainly can’t aim to please everyone. But where is the line between being yourself and making sure that you don’t displease the people you care about? Is this another situation where I should shrug off this criticism as just another sensitive person who can’t handle my humor? Or is it time to seriously reexamine how I treat people?

I’m honestly not sure. I do acknowledge my flaws, but also believe that my flaws are what make me great, and without them I wouldn’t be me.

But then it brings me back to the age-old question, “Who am I”? And then I end up in a circuitous philosophical debate between myself and my other self and it leads nowhere and then I get tired. Sigh…

“Two beef ribs, please!”

The young man behind the counter grinned.

“Get the pork ribs. They’re much better.”

I smiled back and agreed.

“Here’s a third one on the house.” He winked at me and I laughed. While they got my order ready, he continued smiling with a twinkle in his eye and making small talk.

“You from here?”

“Nope, from New Orleans originally, but St. Louis currently.”

“Ooooh. I hate your Cardinals.”

“Mets or Yankees fan?”

“Yankees.” More grinning.

“What? They’re not even in the same league. How can you beat Pujols? One of the best hitters!”

“We have A-Rod!”

“Eh.”

He was amused by me and as he packed up my order, offered me more.

“Want some moist beef brisket? It’s our best.”

“Oh no, I’m good, rea-”

“Manny! Some moist beef brisket!”

And that’s how I ended up with triple the amount of meat I asked for and he only charged me $8 (I’m pretty sure it was $25 worth). I think that’s also the most action I’ve seen this year. If you’re ever in NY, hit up Hill Country; it’s authentic Texas BBQ in NYC! Delicious and Blue Bell ice cream (flown in from TX) for dessert. I couldn’t be happier. Blue Bell always makes me happy.

So I’m 25 now. The actual turning of the year was a tad anti-climatic. For such a big age, I had this unrealistic thought of feeling completely differently or of the my head exploding and a shift in my steps. But it was just another day and it’s just another year and I felt the same as when I was 24. It was a busy weekend and it made the picture clearer on my choice for August (I’m going to leave you in suspense). I will say this, however: To many people, going to NY is a huge destination trip. For me, it’s like going to another home (like going to Baton Rouge from New Orleans or Chicago from St. Louis). I’ve been lucky that a large bulk of my friends are there so by the 2nd day in, it feels like I live there.

I thought when I turned 25, I would come armed with a list of changes and resolutions, but I have none. Probably because since the start of 2008, I’ve gone full speed on carpe diem and trying new things and not looking back. So despite the lack of a whack on the head on Saturday, I think I’m just celebrating the 25th through all these new adventures. I mean, I joined the office softball league! For all my love of sports, I’m not stellar in actually playing them, especially softball which hasn’t been in my life since I was in 8th grade P.E. and it was forced.

I’ve also been battling slight loneliness lately on the man front. Apparently, my little “harmless” crush has found a girl, but surprisingly, I’m over it already.

The end of April also means I’m a month closer to a new chapter of my life and it’s time to start planning the giant move home. Work will be insane with a huge launch of a website May 10th, so looks like May will be pushing me hard. The good news? The next time I’m on a plane, I’ll be on my way to Europe.