It's Not You, It's Me

One month ago, I arrived in New York; and ever since that first moment when my feet hit the long stretch of concrete, my mind has been a complete mess of muddled mush.

Imagine the fastest, highest, wildest roller coaster ride you've ever been on in your life.  The world around you flashes by in an instant.  Strands of hair whip you across your face, whether it's your own hair or the person sitting next to you.  You have no idea what has possessed you to stand in line for what feels like an eternity, only to get whipped in the face, jerked from side to side and nearly losing your lunch.  

You step off the roller coaster and have absolutely no recollection of what you saw as you were being hurled through the air along the winding track, but you are fairly certain it was amazing because it felt amazing.  My friends, that is the only way I know how to describe the past four weeks of my life in New York City. 

Each day has been a surprise, an exercise, a conflict, a challenge, an enlightenment.  

I have felt happy, intimidated, courageous, lonely, afflicted, creative, tired, observant and every now and then: defeated.  

Every moment has demanded some measure of concentration: even if only to close my eyes and try to let go of the events of the given day.  In this city, while working full time at a new job and still living out of two suitcases, even the seemingly simple and natural act of sleeping requires a concentrated effort.  

My writing had been set aside these past few weeks, as I opted to take in what I saw, rather than share it with the world as I had been this past summer.  

The lack of stability and familiarity has burdened my thoughts and mind in such a way that is difficult to articulate.  And as I sat on the shore of the East River along Brooklyn's busy borough, I wondered; Am I happy?

And much like the meager attempt to enjoy the view from a speeding roller coaster, I began to see happiness in a similarly blurred and mysterious way.  I had ventured out of Manhattan in an effort to see the sunset; something that is very difficult to do in an otherwise completely vertical city. And as I sat there gazing across the river, I began to laugh a little as the sun sank behind the entire island of Manhattan, still blocked by the skyscrapers that line the entire radius of the city.

It was funny, because in that moment, I realized how much effort it is going to take to survive here.

Am I happy here?  Was I really ever happy anywhere?

For short stints of time, yes, I felt happy.  Skipping around from place to place trying to outrun, outsmart, outmaneuver myself.  But time and time again, the void followed.

And now, as I sit at my computer and finally bring myself back to my writing, I realize that the void is not where I reside, but rather what has always been residing within me.

It is terrifying to finally understand that I need to face my fears, and hopefully believe in myself enough to follow my dreams.

New York City is only the backdrop of this story I have decided to share with you.  And I will tell you this much; it is a character all its own.

Today:

Peach Bellini

Fresh Peach puree
Glass of Prosecco

Love Never Dies

Throughout the course of our lives, we may fall deeply in love a dozen or so times. Whether it is falling in love with a boyfriend, a best friend, or even a pet you've come to think of as family; love has a way of leaving a mark so permanent we will forever be reminded of it. Think about this for a moment...

Imagine someone you love very much. Now imagine someone who is no longer with you.  Perhaps it was a family member you loved very much who passed away. Do you love them any less in their physical absence? Did the love you feel for that wonderful creature vanish in its passing? Of course not.  

Love simply does not evaporate into thin air.  It lingers, for a lifetime...

The past month or so has been a testimony of the absolute, undeniable certainty that love never dies.  

I have seen the many ways in which love is revealed and preserved over the passing of time.  And it just leaves me in the most wonderful feeling of gratitude.  

Over the past few weeks, I have been surrounded by stories of love and loss.  People all around me were experiencing their own version of an epic love story.  Whether it was losing a beloved wife to Father Time after (over) sixty years marriage together, the tragic and untimely loss of a family member gone too soon, or in my case, the passing of one of my most treasured friends, my pet of eleven wonderful years, Pepper... they are all shining examples of how love is not ever really lost.   

And that is what makes the act of loving someone, or something outside of yourself so incredibly sacred.  It is allowing a seed to be planted to grow within your heart, regardless of the burden you will certainly feel at the moment of inevitable loss. 

Loss doesn't always mean death either.  Loss can simply be the moment a choice was made to walk on separate paths. It can be as simple as a high school break-up; leaving a pitted scar where there once was none.  

So whether it is separateness from death, or simply choosing different paths, I feel quite sure that where there was once the most pure essence of love,  hiding forever in that heartbreak, is a timeless and eternal feeling that remains.  

And it is so comforting...

It is comforting to know that even long after the physical, tangible essence falls away, true love never falls away.  

Perhaps I am overly sentimental.  Big deal.  Perhaps I'm over thinking this.  Who cares?  I care... 

I care about this subject because I know how tremendously comforted I was in the exact moment I realized that not one drop of the love was lost, when I said goodbye to the tangible physical being of my little pet, Pepper.  Not one single ounce of the love I have for her passed away when she did. My love burns bright as ever: alive and well.  

When I sat down over a beer last night with my 'once upon a time' high-school flame, it hit me like a freight train: the most innocent aspect of human emotion is our tireless capacity to love, even in the face of countless losses.  We can go for a walk now as simply two friends, who share a very special past history.  Neither one of us had to force a friendship out of thin air.  We are friends, because we probably always were, even throughout our fourteen year absence. 

We do not have to re-create the feeling of care, when it is always within.  We do not have to light a candle, sit by a tombstone, or force that tangible feeling to remain.  We can let go of whatever form we were first introduced as, and treasure the essence that is eternal.  

We are temporary yes... But real love is not fleeting... it is everlasting.  Love can be passed down through generations; through family albums, funny stories, specific characterizations and mannerisms, or simply, the most intimate and private truths that only we who shared it will ever truly know and understand.  

Love is the most precious and divine gift we can experience.  We do not have to hold on to it with a tight grip: as if it will somehow slip through our fingers.  Love doesn't need to be captured or forcefully retained. 

Honest love exists independent of any "doing" on our part.  

I love my family, my friends, and yes, even my pets, with every fiber of my being; and not one thing on this earth can take that love away. We may die, but love never dies. It is a force greater than our physical limitations. And for this gift, I am so humbled and bursting with gratitude.  

Pepper bunny isn't really gone; because my love for her hasn't gone anywhere... and it never will.  

Today:

Fauker's Favorite

1 oz Jameson's Irish Whiskey

Splash of Gingerale

on the rocks. 

Pepper Bunny

August 2002 - October 10, 2013

Thank you Pep, for getting me through the toughest decade of my entire life. Only you and I will ever know just how massive the scope of that thank you truly is. I miss you, I love you. 

Writer Interrupted

At last; a chance to write from "home."  Isn't it funny how some routines are so important to our overall sense of happiness and well-being? Even a simple routine as waking up, brewing coffee and blogging? 

It hasn't exactly been the easiest task; wandering around from one end of the city to another looking for a place to write.  Most coffee houses are packed with fellow writers or simply a dozen or so people with little battery life.  The outlets are a hot commodity to come by; as almost every person wants to charge... something. 

I would attempt to write from my Mini i-Pad from a crowded Starbucks or other local spot offering free wifi.  But unfortunately, that is not always the most ideal environment.  And I have yet to find my own little writers corner... my spot.  Furthermore, I am always in between appointments or am off to the grocery store, catching a train, fiddling with my new work materials or simply lying down to catch some much needed zzzzzzzzzzs. 

So today, I finally feel comfortable enough to brew coffee and write from the apartment I am sharing for the month.  It's quiet this morning and I don't have to go into work until 8 p.m. tonight. 

You see, I was in in a terrible funk the past two days; unable to find a place or a good time to write.  I am just the type of person who really enjoys a certain amount of structure.  So when I knew I had pretty much the entire day to myself before heading into the city to work, I jumped at the opportunity to write: still in my pajamas and sipping pumpkin spiced coffee from Trader Joe's market.  

In some ways, I can't believe I have only been in New York a week.  I've been training at a new serving job and reconnecting with friends who live here.  Almost every moment has been filled in some way, even if only by the long walks I would take around Central Park.  

I realized something just before falling asleep last night; constant creativity produces more creativity.  It isn't something that dries up.  Creativity is rather like a muscle that only gets stronger the more it is flexed and exercised.  And so, I must continue my creative pursuits.  As steady as ever, I must nurture creativity as best as I possibly can.  

This is such a creative place.  And everywhere I look I am surrounded by the people who are actually "making it."  

If only that were me.  Another bottle of Champagne please... 

This is all part of serving the bigger picture though. And from the bottom of my heart, I wish to get there one day: sitting at the table rather than standing before it.  

But for now, I am on my way to writing a new chapter; a new story.  

This past week of moving and getting a job has most certainly interrupted the steady flow of creativity that I suppose I had, in some ways, taken for granted.  Let's just say I was a writer interrupted.  

But I believe that now, more than ever, is the time to protect and serve creativity as best as I can; establishing a sense of structure in an otherwise volatile but thrilling moment in time.  

Today:

Gin Rickey

1 1/2 oz Gin

1/2 oz Lime Juice

Splash of Soda

On the Rocks in a Highball Glass

What's Just Around the Corner

Last night I had the opportunity to catch up with an old friend over some great drinks and a very long walk.  It was a warm night, and there was just something so incredibly poetic about the entire experience.

I didn't know what to expect, as this encounter was more than unexpected.  So we just let the conversation flow as naturally as possible.  And I began connecting the dots, between his experiences and my own.

Perhaps because we are both writers and a little prone to emotional indulgences, we both ate up the nostalgia as if it were the most delicious main course in all of New York City.

But then, just as sudden and unexpectedly as the moment we ran into one another in a crowded market just a few days ago, the gravity of the situation hit me and I came to a startling realization; we never truly know what is just around the corner.

Isn't that absolutely magical?

I have to tell you that the past five days have been like something out of a movie.  There are young couples strolling hand in hand around almost every corner, kids blowing perfectly round bubbles the size of grapefruits along the paths in Central Park, and each scene is perfectly scored with some kind of pure and equally enchanting source music.  It's frightfully wonderful.

Every corner unfolds some depiction of life, love, survival, creativity, work, struggle and yes, the ever impressive American dream.

We are all in this place because it is feeding something within our hearts that is down right demanding to be heard.  In fact, the buildings themselves are demanding in their own right.  They stand over us; towering and impressive.  They have their own unique voices and dresscode.  The buildings provide me great company.  They are my beacons, my mile markers, and my way of navigating from one corner of the map to the other.

All these people I see around me have completely overwhelmed my senses.  And I find myself struggling to find the words to express what I feel each day as I walk through the countless blocks and stretch of concrete.

I can't very well explain it.  I can't really figure out how to quantify the countless moments I catch myself in awe.

And I know that this feeling will inevitably fade over time as I too, am cast alongside this wonderful hit show that is Manhattan.  But for now, I still catch my breath each time I turn a corner and am presented with granduer and wonderment.

Tomorrow I start my job.  And then, I will have officially taken my first big bite of this 'Big Apple.'  I will have my own routine and semblance of a life as a proper city girl.  Who knows what is waiting around the next corner... maybe the best is yet to come.

Until then, this corner is looking pretty good.

Today

Lil Nicky

1oz Vodka
1/2 oz Pama Liqueur
Splash of Soda
On the rocks with a lime wedge.

Back to Work and Getting Settled!

I never thought I would be so excited to get back to work! Can you believe it?? After only four days in NYC, I am now employed and ready to serve up some drinks once again.  Talk about moving quickly!!

It's amazing how much better I felt when I woke up this morning.  It was like I could actually relax and go have a fun day of walking adventures.  Knowing that I have an income in the immediate future provides me tremendous relief.  

NYC is just one of those cities where you don't want to go broke.  

But to be perfectly honest, it's more than just a financial relief.  When you uproot your life and move to a huge city such as this, it is very unsettling to not have certain things in order.  It felt good to wake up today and know I have somewhere to be on Monday at a certain time.  To know that I fit in and that I am respected by managers and so on is something that brings me great contentment.  

It is a nice feeling to be able to meet new people and have something in common, even if it is only our place of employment.  It just feels good. 

I feel like I'm part of it now; like I'm really here.  

I know that the next major box to check off will be to actually find my very own room to rent.  But for now, I'm really happy.  

I can't even begin to describe how amazing it is to have good friends.  My almost instant transition to the city would not have been so seamless if it were not for my friends here in NY.  

These amazing individuals have been looking out for me, networking, calling, texting, e-mailing, sending out my resumes, apartment hunting and teaching me all about the public transit system.  I honestly don't know if I could have, or would have even wanted to do this without them. 

I think today I just feel so much gratitude.  I have the most loving friends and family.  I have a new job that will provide some stability.  And I have this great big delicious city, to dive into, head first.  

I just don't think I could ask for much more.  

Today:

Mint Chocolate Martini

1 1/2 oz Vodka

1 oz Chocolate Liqueur

1/2 oz Peppermint Schnapps 

Swirl of chocolate sauce in the glass. 

Shake and Strain into a martin glass. 

Road Warriors and Multi-Taskers

Imagine every annoying encounter you've ever had while commuting to and from work.  You're sitting behind the wheel of your compact car, listenening to the radio, and tapping your hands on the dashboard in hopes that your constant vigil over the endless sea of cars ahead of you will enourage the momentum to inch along just a little bit faster.  Then, for no logical reason whatsoever, some silver hybrid cuts in front of you as if that that extra five feet made all the difference in their drive time.  But you're no fool.  You know you're all stuck and not going anywhere fast.

Now imagine a similar scenario, but instead of being surrounded by countless cars, you are simply surrounded by hoards of people.  Now let me tell you, foot traffic is far more entertaining than car traffic.  

What I have whitnessed upon entry in New York City, would make any person feel a twinge of anxiety. These people are hysterical... comical really. 

I mean, who continues to read their novel while walking off of the subway and down a flight of stairs while people attempt to merge around you, beside you, and in front of you??? From what I gather so far: several dozen NY women.  

I stand behind these marvelous multitaskers and think, are you really going to read that book while going down a flight of stairs??? Really lady????? 

Just like the rules of the road, there are most certainly pedestrian rules as well.  The foot traffic rules are as followed; don't text and walk or read a book while going up or down a flight of stairs in the subway, DO pick up after your dog, and gladly step aside to double check the Mets scores, and please, under no circumstances engage in small talk.  

I find myself knocking over old ladies, getting impatient with tour busses who block the crosswalk when the go light is on, and moving almost effortlessly around the slow moving texting-walkers. 

All in all, I definitely feel like I am in the flow of the legendary pace of the daily walkabouts that I've always heard about.  New Yorkers do walk fast... but I walk faster.

Oh wait... this is a commute, not a race... 

I will have to remember that the next time I am merging with distracted pedestrians... It's not a race, it's not a race, it's not a race...

Yesterday, as I rolled my luggage down the eleven-block stretch of concrete that spans between my two friends' apartments, I couldn't help but notice that I was still mowing over everyone else!!!

I don't know... Maybe the pace they set is one of the multi-tasker.  But don't count on me writing my blog while walking through Midtown.  No sir.  

I'm just not that stretched for time... Thank God. 

Today:

Screwdriver

1 oz Vodka 

Splash of orange juice. 

Serendipity

If I could describe my first day in New York, I would have to say that it has been nothing short of surreal.  I pretty much cannot emphasize that enough. If you read along, you'll no doubt agree.

What if I told you that on my very first day in Manhattan, I literally ran into someone I once loved very much? Someone I haven't seen for nearly fifteen years... Would you believe it? Yeah... I couldn't really either! But I did... and it may be one of the craziest experiences of my life.

Allow me to explain.

I woke up bright and early today in an attempt to tackle a very busy day in the city.  I had to meet up with my friend to grab his set of apartment keys and then get ready for my job interview.  I was way way ahead of schedule though; leaving me with a few extra hours to kill beforehand.

So I walked around the block to the Chelsea Market to grab a quick snack and say hello to my friend who works there, when I was suddenly caught off guard by a man who was giving me a very perplexing look.  The place was very crowded; people were everywhere.  But for one split second, it was just us. He stopped dead in his tracks: frozen, wide-eyed, hands visibly trembling.  It took a few moments, seconds really, to recognize each other.  And I could not believe my eyes.

Could this really be happening??

And there, in the middle of one of the busiest most crowded cities in the United States, I embraced one of the first guys I ever really loved.

I was sixteen years old when I first met him.  He was older (naturally)... and had that kind of edge about him that makes every good girl suddenly feel like a little rebel.

He was an artist, a poet and a musician; otherwise known as a triple threat.  He brought out creativity in me that I practice to this day. He also introduced me to Indian food, which is probably one of my favorite souvenirs from our time spent together.  It was so "mature."

It was a really dramatic break-up... as almost all teenage romances certainly are.  And I've often wondered what had become of this person who meant so much to me all those years ago.

If he hadn't seen me, I would have just missed it completely.  And now, a rather small conceived idea of killing some time, actually transpired to one of the most intense mind blowing, cataclysmic moments I have EVER experienced.

Everything that we've said to each other today is too personal to really share here; and anyway, the details wouldn't really make much sense to people who didn't know us when we were together so long ago.  We were so young when we last saw each other. But he was the kind of person who really stuck in my memory: he helped shape the artist, the writer and character I am even to this day.

I can hardly find the words to  describe what an amazing and life changing moment this was for me today, but the reality of this bizarre twist of fate has left me completely and utterly awe-stuck.  And dare I go so far as to say, inspired. 

I went about the rest of my day in an absolute haze.  I was abuzz with shock and bewilderment by this serendipitous encounter.

And as I lay my head down to wander away into a quiet reflection of the day, I  have made a rather startling discovery; there is magic in Manhattan. And I just got one huge, healthy serving of it.  

I'm certainly 'Not in Kansas anymore.'

Today:

Apple Martini

1 1/2 oz Vodka 
1 1/2 oz Sour Apple Pucker
Splash of Sour 

Shaken and served up.

I Couldn't Have Said it Better...

Theme From New York, New York

Click to Listen!! 

'Start spreadin' the news, I'm leavin' today
I want to be a part of it
New York, New York
These vagabond shoes, are longing to stray
Right through the very heart of it
New York, New York

I want to wake up, in a city that never sleeps
And find I'm king of the hill
Top of the heap

These little town blues, are melting away
I'll make a brand new start of it
In old New York
If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere
It's up to you, New York..New York

New York...New York
I want to wake up, in a city that never sleeps
And find I'm A number one, top of the list
King of the hill, A number one....

These little town blues, are melting away
I'll make a brand new start of it
In old New York
If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere
It's up to you, New York..New York New York!!!'

Wish me luck!!! 

The Calm Before the...

From where I sit today, there is nothing but blue skies and calm seas ahead... literally. It honestly could not be a more picturesque afternoon here on the St. Mary's River.  And to be perfectly honest, as much as I am truly enjoying every moment of it, I can't help but wonder what is waiting on the other side of this seemingly picture perfect September day. How sad! 

I have come to realize just how jaded that sounds!! Does every good thing in life always come with a price? How fortunate are those lucky mega-million lotto winners anyway?? Aren't there a hundred different crazy statistics that suggest a wave of bad luck that ensues upon cashing in your winning ticket?? Ugh... I am beginning to sound pretty paranoid.  

I can't tell you when this little habit began, but somewhere along the way, I began to knock on wood.  After every possible statement of absolution or certainty, I would immediately sense some dangling threat of demise out there... just waiting to prove everything to the contrary.  

And so, I began to knock on wood, throw salt over my shoulder (though now I forget which side is the lucky one) and guard my hand mirrors from shattering at all costs. What is wrong with me???

I get extremely uncomfortable with statements like; 'That'll never happen,' 'that's impossible,' or the worst, 'everything will be just fine.'  Aaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!! (Knocks on wood.)

Recently, I have attempted to become less of a skeptic; perhaps because I so desperately want to believe that great things can actually occur without some torrid aftermath. Or maybe it's to preserve my delicate hands from knocking feverishly on dining tables, chairs, floors, siding, row boats, pencils etc.  It seems to be some new revised form of superstition, and so I'm not sure how counter-productive these new methods are.  

Instead of sweating bullets for what I fear could happen, I have opted instead to sweat out the anxiety through a ninety minute hot yoga session.  Instead of calming my nerves with an epic freak out, I am turning to the calming blend of essential oils and quiet reflection.  Exhale... Namaste.  

Is it working?? Hmmm, I may have to test this theory for years to come in order to answer that one.  That would only be fair, considering the decades I have spent looking over my shoulder for the, dare I say, inevitable?? 

Although I cannot promise any miracles here, I may just be a few steps closer to striking a happy balance between caution and optimism.  

Could it be possible to just look out and solely appreciate the absolutely perfect day? Given that I just winced while typing the word perfect... I would venture to guess I still have a ways to go. 

But a willing heart is capable of tremendous things! Oh...hello there my little optimistic other half... Welcome back!  

What can I say?? I guess I'm a work in progress.  It's so easy to get caught up in a whirlwind of anxiety over what could happen... 

But no matter what could happen tomorrow, it truly doesn't change how utterly beautiful it is today.  Perhaps this is the calm before the storm.  But if I'm wrong, and my suspicious nature is merely at work again, what a shame it would be to cast that "doomsday" spin on such an otherwise perfect day.

I kick myself and repeat under my breath, "It isn't doomsday. It's Wednesday."  And on that note, I think I will go for a walk and enjoy what is... and not fear what could be. Life is too short for that type of consistent negative mentality.  And this day is far too pretty to feel anything other than peace.

Today:

Brandy Alexander

1 1/2 oz Brandy

1 oz Dark Creme De Cacao 

1 oz Half and half

1/4 tsp of Nutmeg

Shake and strain into a martini glass. 

   

The Greatest of These is Love

For a very long time, I have been engrossed in a constant dialogue with the Divine.  It is a very personal conversation we've shared all these years, so I would rather not attempt to quantify what this exchange has meant to me.  What would be the point of that anyhow? As I said, it's a rather private conversation.

I am not someone who has the desire to set out to change other people (for the most part anyway). Ask my ex-boyfriends and they may argue otherwise. And perhaps that says more about me than I would like. Oh well... I guess I can live with that if the shoe fits (me).

What I mean is this: I cannot pretend to understand what life is like in your shoes.  And I would certainly hope that you would extend to me a similar offering.

But what I have come to understand with relative certainty is that the most Supreme force in existence is love.  From where I stand, it is love that is the ultimate trump card.

From love stems the most bountiful and gracious elements of our beings (and furthermore, beyond our beings). From a place of love we may also be so humbled to encounter true compassion, forgiveness, honesty, awakening and surrender. The rest are just the details.

I suppose I am moved to write about love tonight, because from where I sit, I am fortunate enough to be surrounded by so much of it: my family.

Last week, a very good friend of mine suffered a great loss in his family.  And when I went about completing the mundane tasks of my daily life, I couldn't help but notice the sinking feeling I had on my shoulders that hovered about me like a heavy winter jacket.  There was a sadness looming in the air that I couldn't shake.  But what I came to realize over the ensuing days, was the undeniable fact that I was not alone in this feeling... far from it.  All of the friends who know and love this person, felt a weight of sorrow for the experience he is facing.

There was a collective feeling of loss that we felt for our friend.  Though we may not know the loss in the same way as he who had directly suffered it, that did not prevent us from feeling the gravity of it all and carrying it around with us too. Why?  Because we love our friend.  We love him so much that we are profoundly affected by what happens to him whether it is good or bad.

Now imagine that you love your country, your heritage, or even better: our planet... What collective state of mourning, of joy, and unity, would we feel if we could all relate to one another under such a common thread of pure goodness?  I imagine that the effects would be quite profound.

I guess I am coming from that insane and innocent idea that we should all really, really, really, really try to get along.  And that in the end, bitterness, resentment and hostility only serve to corrupt our own inherent goodness and spiritual growth.

I'm on a tangent here; I seek to promote and become a great advocate for true, honest, forgiving, relentless, tireless, simple, sweet, compassionate and unwavering love.    

Because there is no greater human emotion than this in my humble opinion.

Love comes in many forms.  And love is tested in arguably many more forms. But what we do when we are given such a tremendous offering of the heart speaks volumes to our own spiritual journey with the Divine, as well as within ourselves.

To my parents, I have to offer all my gratitude, for showing me a very real and unvarnished path to love and in love.  Theirs is a love story that I have no doubt Shakespeare himself would've envied the chance to have committed to the page for future generations to romanticize, memorize and repeat.

And even better... they have passed on to me an appreciation for such a love.

Whether it is a love of your family, your friend, a country or even better yet, a neighbor, my sincerest hope is that we may all experience love in its most real form.

You know, I'm just a simple person.  I have hopes, dreams and aspirations.  I am not afraid of working hard.  But what I truly wish with all my heart for my time here on Earth, and for yours too no matter who you are, is to have experienced ample and honest love in this life.

Like I said before; the rest are just the details.

Wishing you all lots of love, wherever you may be. And know that you are never alone.

Today:

Cuba Libre
1 oz Rum 
Splash of Coca Cola
On the Rocks!
Garnish with a lime wedge!!

A Case of Cold Feet

You can be sure it is going to be a rather stressful day when every thought that crosses your mind upon waking ends with a question mark.  

When am I going to come back from NYC? When am I going to see my dogs again? Will they miss me when I am traveling? Or will they forget all about me?? Where will I get a job? If I get a job, will I end up staying through the winter in New York? Or will I go back to California in January? How long before my funds run out? Am I making the wrong choice? Is this a crazy plan? What if...? Where to...?  How much...???? When??? Why??? How??? Where??? 

I have to tell you, this is not a great way to start out the morning.  I sat in bed for nearly an hour as these questions ran through my mind; similar to the way the numbers on the stock market ticker race by with endless flux. 

And I couldn't help but ask myself one last question before getting out of bed: 'Am I getting cold feet?'  

I've had months to plan this excursion.  I have had ample time to carefully deconstruct every nagging fear or question.  And yet, out of nowhere, I am suddenly overcome with nerves.  

With nearly one week left to go before my impending journey, I feel more anxious than ever about taking this trip.  I know it is going to be such a good thing for me to experience, but the weight of the unknowns is a heavy burden to lug around... along with my huge suitcases. 

All these questions simply cannot be answered until I get there.  

And so, with that in mind, I am trying to look at it as a long vacation...  I have no clue what I will want to do after I arrive.  I am not sure if staying for more than a month or two will pan out.  But how can I know? I simply can't from where I sit right now.  

I guess this is just how life goes.  You have to take some chances and just hope for the best.  We can't always have all the answers laid out perfectly before us on a silver tray, but we can do our best to handle whatever may come. 

I'm just going to have to double up on the socks and slippers this week, suck it up, take a deep breath, pack my yoga mat... and try to keep my feet roasty and toasty...

Getting all worked up over the many variables isn't really doing me any favors.  Time to live and let go.   Let go and let God.  The rest are just the details. And who needs them anyway? Oh shoot... another question mark! 

Guess my feet are still a little chilly after all. Oh well... Better just enjoy what I have right now in front of me; two warm little dogs who love nothing more than to make every moment count. They are the zen masters of living in the present moment. Their paws are always nice and warm. 

 Today:

Absolut Stress

1/2 oz Absolut Vodka

1/2 oz Malibu Rum

1/2 oz Peach Schnapps

Equal Parts Cranberry

Pineapple and Orange Juices

On the Rocks!

Something Out of Nothing

Guess what I am doing at this very moment? (Que Jeopardy music for a ten second pause.) Did you guess blogging?? Well duh.  Aside from the obvious answer, I am actually sitting in a Little Caesar's Pizzeria enjoying my very own large plain cheese.  I am a girl on a budget remember??

In a last ditch effort to shake the money tree, I have gotten fairly... ummmm -----.  Not desperate! No, no... CREATIVE!!  Yes, let's call it creative.

I rounded up about ten years worth of winter jackets, skin tight blue jeans, boots, wedges and host of other miscellaneous accessories and hauled them off to a resale clothing store.  They estimated that the sorting process would take roughly forty-five minutes and so I decided to kill a few birds with one stone.  Eat some lunch, write my blog and hopefully, turn a decades worth of laundry into some cold hard cash.

Let me tell you something folks; I'm getting really good at this part-time business of turning a little somethin' something out of a whole lot of nothing.  

Here's a few tips and tricks I have learned under the gun... or more specifically, a budget. 

1. Someone may actually pay you for those 6" high heels that were a complete mistake/impulse purchase.

2. Little Caesar's Pizza always sells "Hot 'n Ready" large pizzas for $5.00

3. If you want to insure that your $5.00 pizza is actually fresh, make sure to order a plain cheese pizza instead of the pepperoni.  They typically only have pepperonis sitting on stand by, and not plain cheese.  So if you have ten minutes to spare, then you will have a fresh large pizza right out of the oven for five bucks!

4. All that spare change stuck together in your vehicle's cup holders actually amount to something! And if you are patient, and can multitask while watching a movie, you can roll about six hundred pennies in about thirty minutes.  Well six bucks, may not seem like much, but it does buy you that large cheese pizza we were just talking about.

5. A smile and friendly small talk goes a long way.  (The lovely manager at the pizza shop threw in a free drink for me after I told her what a great job she was doing.)

Sometimes it really pays to get creative!!!

This summer I bought a brand new pair of running shoes, an airline ticket to NYC and a full tank of gas, all with the loose change I had stock piled around my apartment in jars, purses and yes, my car.

It just goes to show that you can make a little something out of what you may have thought was nothing.

So if you'll excuse me, I have to pack up the rest of this pizza and walk over to the resale shop and see how much all that loot has earned me!!!

Just one more small step on this road to the big city.

Count your pennies and your blessings!!!! And by all means, get creative!


Today:

Woo Woo

1 1/2 oz Vodka
1 1/2 oz Peach Schnapps
3 oz Cranberry juice
on the rocks!

Baggage

Well, there is no mistaking it; I've got a lot of baggage.  Literally... As I look around the apartment at the three empty suitcases that I'll inevitably fill, I am suddenly overwhelmed.

Getting ready to go on a trip for an undetermined length of time is a somewhat daunting process.  Do I pack work clothes? Bedding? Winter boots, jackets and scarves?  Do I pack light and have some things shipped if I stay longer?? Oy...

Meanwhile, my poor little dogs are hovering around the luggage and pacing the apartment.  As soon as I pull out the suitcases, they look at them wide eyed and nervous: not this again.

I won't be able to take my dogs with me yet.  It would make the settling in process about a hundred times more difficult.  And if I can spare them the added anxiety of roommates, city traffic, and late nights, then there is no question that I ought to leave them behind... for now.

It's crazy.

I look around and see a patchwork quilt of my life, post graduation.  I feel lucky to have experienced so much over the past eleven years since high school.  What a wild ride.  From the West Coast to the  great Southwest, then down to the Mid South and up to the Midwest; my life looks more like a stack of postcards rather than the images I see in most of my peers' family albums.  But that's just me.  That is the nature of change and adapting to whatever circumstance I seem to be in the midst of. It's an amazing thing, to have had the good fortune of living life in so many wondrous places.

But the baggage I accumulated over the years is bulky, heavy and perhaps excessive. There are some things I am holding on to that may not serve me on the road ahead.  Like my wedding china for instance; someone please tell me what I am supposed to do with that??  The delicate place settings, serving bowls and coffee cups have lasted much longer than my marriage ever did.  And I carry the box around from state to state with precision and care... And I am over it.

Sometimes I imagine taking a trip to Greece, where upon arrival, I unwrap the delicate wedding china and hurl it at the pristine white floor and let it smash at my feet while shouting OPA!!! In this fantasy, I am dancing around the shattered pieces, wearing a crown of olive leaves and a sleek white dress similar to Aphrodite's.

Hummus anyone?

And what about the other items I have hauled around from place to place: pictures, dresses and books of poetry? Shall I stand at the mouth of the East River and toss it in as some sacrificial offering to Manhattan... to my future?? 

Or shall I continue to leave it happily collecting dust in my storage, as I have done for the past few years? The boxes are stacked high; one on top of the other... Talk about excess baggage.

I know that the day will surely come when I will know what to do.  I can sense that I am inching my way closer to the answer with each passing season.  I don't want this much baggage.

I don't need it either.

But the answer hasn't come to me yet.  But I have a hunch that it is waiting for me in this next place I explore: probably under a shady tree, speckled with October's rose and amber hues in the midst of Central Park. Perhaps then I will know what to do and how to shed these bulky items that are no longer serving me. Alas, I continue to pack.

*Note to self: have fun, work hard, be safe and travel light! 

Today:

Cape Cod

1 oz Vodka
2 oz Cranberry Juice
Garnish with a lime wedge
On the Rocks!

Left Foot Faith

Late last night, I stayed awake for a long time pondering the nature of faith.  And what I realized nearly moments before drifting off to sleep, is that faith is probably the best gift anyone can ever give to another person.  

To have true faith in someone is an extremely selfless act.  It is basically a show of support that may require more on your part to stand by, than the abilities of the other.  You aren't expecting an outcome. You aren't requiring any preliminary action.  You simply offer a show of support in your unwavering belief.  

Faith in its truest form is infectious and utterly philanthropic.  

I am so fortunate to have experienced this selfless show of faith.  And knowing that there is someone out there who believes in what I say and what I do, or will do, is a gift that I won't ever forget as long as I live.  

Why should anyone have faith in me anymore? Do they see something that I cannot?  Why should anyone believe me?? Why should anyone believe in me?

I guess those are the questions that often come to mind when seeking out support from family or friends.  While I surely haven't intended sell myself short, there have been many occasions where I simply followed my heart and found myself at a wrong turn, a stop sign and a dead end.  It was a frustrating experience to have proved myself wrong from time to time.  But the funny thing is, it was faith that moved me to those decisions.  So was my faith faulty??

The problem is, with the type of faith I was accustomed to giving, I had always hoped for some end result for my own personal gain. But I sadly did not know that going into the faithful transaction.  It was always when the dust settled and I felt a sinking disappointment in my stomach for being let down that I realized that the faith I had given, wasn't wholly free.  Like standing balanced on your right foot instead of your left; you have enough faith that your left foot can hold you up, but you have more faith that your right foot will simply handle the job with greater ease and efficiency.  

The faith I had given, was like a 'right foot' show of faith. This show of support and belief had strings tied closely to my heart and upon the crumbling of the outcome, were therefore were tugged, yanked and ultimately untied.  And when I felt let down, there was an emptiness beyond repair.  

But when I realized last night the true wonder of unwavering faith, I was so filled up inside with gratitude that I could hardly sit still.  What a gift I have been given!  Time to put my left foot forward for a change... and have a little faith. 

There are no strings attached as far as I can see.  It is given so freely. 

I can only aspire to achieve whatever hope a person has afforded me; and honor the show of selfless faith through my actions and experiences in life. 

Perhaps I can also learn to stand on my left foot a little more often, strengthening the balance of the entire being: mind, body and spirit.  And maybe, someday, I can be strong enough to offer someone else that kind of faith and unwavering belief.  Not for any personal gain, but simply as a means of lending a hand, or even a foot if need be.  

It is a challenge these days, to find anything or anyone who may seem worthy of our faith.  We may find ourselves hurt when the lucky recipient of our belief chooses a different way, or worse, fails to believe in themselves at all.  

What a wonderful world it could be, if we push ourselves toward the selfless extension of faith.  Even if it is merely faith in ourselves, faith in a friend, or faith in having faith...  

What if we could simply believe in our own inherent worth and talents, without the pressure of a defined or expected return?  

After experiencing this selfless act of faith, I am determined to cultivate more to spread it all around. It is infectious...

See, that's the greatest thing about truly believing in someone no matter what; you never know how it will affect possibly a hundred thousand more people, all because you planted to seed inside of just one.  

Today:

Vodka Sonic

1 oz Vodka

Equal parts Soda and Tonic

Rocks with a lime wedge

 

Muscle Memory

You know what is so funny?  I went a very long time without writing.  I think it was maybe the year after I graduated from college that I simply checked out creatively.  

I chose screenwriting for film and television as my major, and from that moment on, I was in a seemingly endless cycle of writing and rewriting.  While I loved the process very much indeed, I'll admit that I struggled with the most simple aspect of storytelling: what to write about.  

Some of my classmates made this look so easy.  I envied their ability to concoct wild stories of rescue or political satire.  I would read over their work, look up at them, then back to the page and think; Where the hell did that come from??

I have always had a very natural ease with writing. Whether a poem, an essay, a short story, a screenplay or even something in iambic pentameter, the words have made their way to page without much thought or mental editing.  

But when I sat down to write a screenplay for the first time, I was absolutely stuck.  Instead of just writing one scene, I would get caught up in how that scene would somehow affect the entire script and as a result, I would just sit there in bewilderment at the blank screen. 

Another problem I encountered with screenwriting was chopping out entire chunks of descriptive pros.   You have to switch off that part of your brain that desperately wants to dazzle the reader with delicate and beautiful sentences.  In fact, my professor would often tell us that screenplays should have mostly white on the page.  

So, with that in mind, I began strength training this muscle that I hadn't even known existed before.  It was an exercise in setting up meaningful and effective dialogue.  Writing for a visual medium, means that all those pretty little descriptive pros are actually replaced by everything you see on camera: courtesy of the cinematographer,  the actors and director.  

So when I graduated college, I felt numbed by the process of the rewrite.  Not only is writing challenging enough when you are having to consider its future offspring of film and television, but the aspect of a seemingly endless cycle of rewriting is enough to make any writer want to crawl into a hole and hibernate for about five years.  And so naturally, that is precisely what I did. 

Well, seven years to be exact.  I guess I needed to live a little and gather up some new material.   

And now, all these years later, sitting down to write is so natural it is almost scary.  It is like a muscle memory.  Without much thought at all, I sit down with my laptop and write.  Before I am even half-way through my first cup of coffee, I am more than half-way finished with my daily writing exercise.  

But I have to admit that I am still mesmerized by these writers who sit down and tell an entire story.  That is where I fear that I am a little... stuck. 

The past seven or eight years have provided me with a treasury of new material.  And that may be the very reason I began writing again a few months ago.  I had to put into words some of the harsh lessons I have learned.  And as I often do with most everything in life, I frequently opt to put a comical spin on it.  

But telling an entire story is something entirely different.  It is much more daunting than my daily challenge of writing something new just as soon as I wake up.  A novel? A screenplay? A plot? A theme? A hook? Red Herring? Chapters?? Act 1... Act 2... Act 3... Eh, I don't know...

I may not be ready to sit down for that quite yet, but I do feel that each and every day I write... I am sneaking up on the story that is just sitting up on top of my dusty shelf of a brain, just waiting to be told.

Until then, we'll just have to wait and see what happens next. 

Today:

Hemingway Special

2 oz White Rum

1/4 oz Maraschino liqueur

1 oz Grapefruit Juice

1/2 of a fresh squeezed lime