The Perfect Hour.

Monday, April 22, 2013

This morning I was just not feeling it.

I guess you could say it was a severe case of the Monday's where all I wanted to do was crawl into my bed and nap. But alas, adulthood and the joys that come along with it. I got up, tried to spruce myself up the best I could whilst using the least amount of effort and set off to work. 

My day luckily ended by about 3:30 and within a millisecond I was back in my bed, ignoring all the homework I had piling up on my radiator (major fire would think imminent death would be enough to make me do it...but no). After flipping through a few Youtube videos I was out like a light, a happy little afternoon snooze. Nothing Better.

I woke up at the perfect hour.

You know the one I'm talking about, right when the sun is setting. The breeze picks up and you have to hug your jacket a little tighter, your eyes begin to droop as you await your second wind, everybody rushes by you on the way home to be with there families at the dinner table, nobody has any cares because the hard day of work is over. I love it.

Since as far back as I can remember it was my favourite hour. When I was younger I lived on a Cul-De-Sac full of children. Everyday after school we would all emerge from our respected houses and ride our bikes, play and run in the sun for hours. Eventually, the sun would begin to fall and the world would get darker causing the large street lamp that was watching over us all to illuminate and signal that it was time to go home. As we waved and ran toward our respected houses, tired from play and craving our mothers home cooked meal, I was the happiest I had been all day. 

Oh the people you'll meet: Minnie (oh fine and Lincoln)

Friday, April 19, 2013

Now before I get started, technically this "person you'll meet" isn't a person. But this is my blog, I make the rules around here so shush.

I must start by saying if at this point in my life I had time for a puppy and my landlord wasn't such a hater of happiness, I would have one....or seven. Unfortunately that is frowned upon as the seven bolded paragraphs on my lease inform me and after setting our roof on fire last summer we tend to tread very lightly around here.

One of my roommates though seems to be an animal magnet. We always have random fury things darting around the apartment (oh and the mice....we have those too...Thanks NYC!) and it's safe to say I tend to get thoroughly attached to the adorable bastards!

This is Maisy. She appeared in a giant Trader Joe's bag one afternoon.

"That looks heavy what did you buy?"
"Oh nothing, it's a cat. I had to sneak her in."

And nothing else was said on the topic, but we now had a cat to play with. She spent the night helping me back for my trip overseas, followed by a brief trip up the ladder to change a light bulb.

Oh and then she destroyed the kitchen.

The Moral of this story is, if you are in the NYC area and ever need an animal deprived girl to  snuggle on your pets for a night or two. I'm your girl!

sidenote: This is Lincoln. 

He also had a little unexpected holiday in our apartment a couple of months before Minnie. At the time we weren't aware of his name and loving named the poor little boy Lola....sorry for the gender confusion, I hope it didn't scare you too much pup.

The Men of Manhattan: Max

Thursday, April 18, 2013


Something every New Yorker knows about the busy, underground metal snakes full of crazy (see: The Subway) is that it's always best to keep your head down, eye contact with the wrong person can get you killed in this city! (joking, come visit us we would love to have you.)

This is where I differ from the average New Yorker.

I spend my morning commutes hidden behind a pair of oversized sunnies looking around the train studying the diversity that is crammed in all around me. If I catch the eye of a cute child or adorable suit-wearing gentleman, I transform from average New York to average Human being and I naturally throw them a smile. That is how I met Max.

There I was daintily leaning against the pole poised and perfectly composed in my wedges whilst some classical melody swam along my headphones and danced into my ear (see: clumsy mess, swaying ungracefully all over the train juggling a heavy purse whilst blasting Big L into my brain). When an unfortunate jolt of the metal bullet hurtled me toward two members of the ever present NYPD. 

"OH MY GOSH!" I squeaked through scrunched eyes. 

"Easyyyy...." I opened my eyes and smiled sweetly at the man I had moments ago used as landing pad.

"I'm so sorry..." I was met with a smile and after glancing around the train I noticed that everybody was still in their typical New York pose, "See something, look straight ahead and don't say shit!"

"Wow a smile, you must not be from New York," He whispered trying not to alarm the angry mob surrounding us.

"Not until recently, my heart still has some soul left in it..." We smiled and two stops later he pushed his card into my hand before departing the train with his cackling partner.
The moral of this story: Be kind to strangers and you can meet an amazing guy who will go to the other end of town at 3am so you can get your beloved Mango Margarita's or who loves Sunday brunch almost as much as you do. 

As fast as it started though, it was over. He wanted something I didn't have to give him and I wanted something taller and with a better taste in Waffle toppings. 

I guess Big L was right maybe I do have no love for city cops


You know the saying, "Innocent until proven guilty?" I have a similar saying, "Everyone's a rapist until proven otherwise." Ok, so to be fair it isn't exactly similar at all, but just follow along. 

I don't know what it is inside of me but something deep down in there just automatically expects the worst in any given situation. Car slows down next to me as I am walking? Rapist. Knock on the door? Someone coming to abduct my entire family. Neighbors yelling? Murder. Which is what happened this morning.

There I was all rugged up in the safety of my beloved Red Sox blanket, in a distant dreamland thinking about all the beautiful things in life (Lie: I actually had a dream I had my own pizza shop, sucked), When I was woken up by a loud bang. Now, when I saw woken up I mean I jumped probably a good foot off the bed and swung my leg out kicking a glass of Orange Juice flying off my night stand. After cursing that I would now have to get up to get more Oj, I was interrupted by yelling from the apartment on the other side of my bedroom wall. I couldn't make out any of what was being said, but it was said so loudly and aggressively I knew someone was going to die. Ok, I didn't know someone was going to die, I just really thought that was a strong possibility.

I don't know why but my mind automatically expects the worst in situations just like this one. I blame the media aka my addiction to Law and Order: SVU. An addiction that only last night caused me to almost burst into tears as I ran up my apartment stairs in the dark due to a blown bulb.Did I mention not only am I paranoid I'm also a big baby?

One day I hope to be able to see a white van without jumping to the rapist conclusion, or not to assume their has been a fatal car crash when someone is ten minutes late to meet me, but until then I'm going to wander the streets paranoid out of my mind.

Things you need in your life: Watermelon Lemonade

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

It was a chilly Monday morning and there I was half way through my stellar shower rendition of TLC's "No Scrubs" when I noticed that my Shower Gel was down to it's last pump. Oh well, I guess I'll go to Bath and Body works on the way home from work I happily thought and kept on with my man hating. What could go wrong? Answer: EVERYTHING. 

I have three prominent weaknesses in life: Cute children, discounts and candles. So imagine my absolute joy when on the day I happened to stumble in to the Bath and Body works on Park and 23rd, they were having a sale on candles sold by adorable children (one of those isn't true)! I went absolutely mental to say the least. I sniffed until my head pounded with agony and then trotted on home to light up. 

Candles make me so happy. There is nothing better kicking back in bed reading, Netflix'ing or stalking your ex on Facebook whilst your room is pumped full of heavenly goodness and the flames throw their light all over the room. I ended up leaving the store that day with 6 brand spanking new candles, but I have to give MVP to Watermelon Lemonade for it's adoration by not only myself and my roommates but also the next door neighbors who commented on the smells in the hall. 

Oh the people you'll meet: Preston

When I first moved to the city I was in constant disbelief at the movie I was living in. 

"Oh my god Mary Kate and Ashley walked past here in New York Minute!" I would audible squeak to the utter hatred of my friend on a mid day food run. So you could imagine my joy when I got a job in Times Square a few weeks after I arrived. Just wait until the people at home heard that one! This is awesome! I was wrong. Times Square is my hell. As a naturally respectful person I spent way to long weaving, ducking and diving out of a tourists happy holiday snap or apologetically telling the oddball dressed as Elmo that I didn't want him to touch me. It was horrible, but it was never boring! 

The most bizarre experience though has to be the night I met Preston.

Now I'm not sure if Preston was his actual name, but he looked like a Preston so that is what he has been labeled. There I was dragging my ass to the train after being kept in at work later then expected due to an influx of tourists that decided to demolish the place just moments before closing, when a legal midget appeared at my side. Now, before I continue with my story, I have nothing against midgets, My Great Uncle is one in fact, but this is an important part of the story.

"Hello, How are you?" He muttered almost inaudibly (although to be fair there was about 2 feet between his mouth and my ears so maybe it just got lost in the sound of traffic). Presuming that it wasn't directed at me I picked up the pace to reduce the awkwardness that is walking directly next to a stranger.

"Nice night huh?" This time I stopped in my tracks and flipped my head in his direction. After being met with zero eye contact I continued walking and continued to ignore the muttering.Within a few steps the silence that had settled over us was interrupted,

"Hey Guys, Would you like to go to a comedy show?" (That's another thing about Times Square, you get asked this question every 4 steps at least. No matter how many times you insist you hate laughter). In a blur of tiredness I simply shook my head (I generally reply because I feel bad that these men probably spent 99% of their time getting ignored). I obviously choose the wrong time to ignore because this guy was a glorified sass master!

"Is it because I'm BLACK? FUCK YOU TWO! WHITE POWER GUYS! WHITE POWERRRRR!" He began to scream. Now when I say scream, I mean SCREAM, loud enough to cause a noticeable echo to bounce between the buildings and LCD screens that decorate Times Square. Luckily for me, I have learned to keep up stride in the midst of craziness and continued walking. That was when I felt an arm around my waist.

Ninja Reflex.

I swear my heart stopped, I probably jumped about 43 feet thinking that Crazy Comedy guy had followed me. Alas, it was only Preston.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Now honestly, I am not one to get mean in situations like this. Preferring to purely ignore/run away, but I was not in the mood for this tonight.

"Don't listen to him..."

"I'm not listening to him, and you are not putting your hands anywhere near me again I swear to god. I haven't said one fucking word to you, I don't know you, I don't want to know you, your creeping me out, GO AWAY!"

Now just picture me, at a slight 5'10'', yelling that a midget who reaches my bellybutton on the corner of a busy street at 3am whilst a guy clutching a sign that simply reads, Need money for Weed! Hey why lie? chuckles from a few feet away and you have my life.

I love New York.

Step 1

I'm at a crossroad…crossroads? big scary intersection of life? 

I turned 18 the summer after my senior year and a short month later I packed my bags, left my tiny town in snowy New England  and moved to New York City. I had to find an apartment, start college (then drop out…then drop back in…then drop back out….then drop back in….), find a job to support myself (Thanks for the trust fund Daddy….oh wait…that didn't happen) and learn how to keep myself alive….it's surprisingly difficult. 

I have had adventures, I've cried, I've had my heart broken, I've met the greatest people, I've met the worst people, I've worked my butt off and I've spent days in my bed hiding from life. New York can gnaw away at you, nibble lightly or complete devour your soul but only if you let it. 

It is now two years later, I'm in a new mind set and I want to share the journey with you….whoever you are….whether it's those small town girls wanting to experience something more whilst there stuck at 15 (been there), a stranger wanting to hear about others misfortunes to make themselves feel that little better (been there), or simply my future self in a moment of self reflection. I don't know, and I honestly don't care who you are, if you get a giggle or even a slight smile, I am happy. This is a place for me to share the laughs I've had, the things I love and every other random corner of my lovely and amazing, confusing and catastrophic calamity of a life.