Frankie Knows Best.

Wednesday, July 31, 2019

Shame Cone.

I was 15 when I first discovered Frank Turner.

I was scrolling through a BBC radio list and the song Photosynthesis was on it, we had the same last name so I checked it out.

A few minutes later I went to Facebook and updated my status to,

And I won't sit down
And I won't shut up

A few hours later my older brother saw this and accused me of copying him, he had also just discovered Frank Turner (although I stand by the fact that Sam didn't introduce me on this occasion, he did later introduce me to Larry and his Flask who are one of my favourite bands, so don't say I don't give credit where is is due!)

At the end of that summer, Sam headed back to college leaving behind a few CD's and oversized sweaters that I went ahead and stole. 

A few years later I got my license and a bright green car that still housed a light-up CD player identical to the one I vividly remember my childhood neighbor popping out and hiding under his car seat in fear of it being stolen. In a heavy rotation with my fire mixed tapes was the Love, Ire & Song album I stole from Sam's stash.

I know every word of that album frontwards, backwards....maybe even in German, who knows, it's a possibility.

Although I have claimed on numerous occasions that Long Live the Queen is my favourite Frank Turner song (I'm not actually sure why, it's just always the one that pops into my head first) there is a different song that I always turn to when I need to be kicked in the ass....

Do you ever listen to a song and think....oh....this was written about me, I don't even know you Frank Turner, why did you make me your muse? I'm flattered. This is that song for me.

Now time for a slight detour but we will meet back up with the original path a few miles down I promise.

After sending out my last blog post just a few hours ago,  I immediately read an article about Selma Blair and an update on her battle with MS. A side-note here, that scene in Legally Blond where Elle Woods proves she is the ultimate queen and goes about showing Warner and Vivian who they are fucking with is the kind of energy I aspire to bring to my every day life. I definitely WWEWD on the regular, and yet here I was lamenting about my own poor choices and confusion while the Vivian Kensington is going through some hardcore shit. After crying over the idea of Selma turning to social media to let the world know she can't cry and wants her Mum (I feel that in my bones, always) and of course forwarding the article to my friend to let her know about said tears, I hit shuffle on my Spotify and ran myself a relaxing 6am bubble bath. 

And wouldn't you know who popped up? My man Frank with the song he definitely wrote for me. A tag team early morning reality check, here to remind me I'm so wrapped up in my invisible armor, I've only got myself to blame and I need to stop being an idiot.

Thanks Frank, maybe I'll actually take the advice to heart this time....

***I just reread this and boy is it clear I got like an hours sleep last night, yikes. Driving and blogging, two things you should not do while drowsy.

4 years later.

It's currently 4:27am.

My sleep meditation video isn't working and I'm wide awake, so you know we are about to get deep.

In March of 2015 I wrote a blog post called Give it a year.


I think about this post a lot.

It's been over 4 years and yet somehow I find myself in that exact same position. If I scrunch up my eyes and breathe for a second, it actually feels like I am that 22 year old girl in her New York City apartment wanting away her days.

Now I'm 26, in my Los Angeles apartment, still rummaging around for my place in life.

One of my biggest fears is that I will live my whole life as "the grass is always greener" girl.

The worst part of this whole tale is the older I get, the more I watch people find their place in life and settle in deep.

Suddenly it becomes harder to connect to new people because they are stationary and you are flashing by, leaving behind nothing more than a faint whooshing sound.

I'm somebody who has only really experienced loss once in my life, yet I spend most of my time bracing for the impact from the next blow.

This makes it hard to let people in.

If I get attached it means that I will one day have to experience another loss.

If I don't have you, I can't lose you.

If I whoosh by, you will never notice I was even there.

I'm hoping one day I break out of it.

I know the ball is in my court, but I don't quite know the rules of the game yet.

Sometimes I'm proud of my ability to move to a brand new place all on my own and run a lap on a new track. I'm able to keep the pace, before circling back to where I started and firing off in another direction. Other times, I'm jealous of those people who have everything they need in the bubble in which they started and have no need or desire to venture off in search of anything more.

When I wrote that post four years ago I was publicly telling myself to get it together. It's still a work in progress and even though I cry and worry, I want to believe deep down I'll end up exactly where I need to be.

I really hope that in four years time when I'm newly 30 looking back on this post (and the one before it), that I have a better result.

I really hope the next step is the right one.

Music Monday Part III

Monday, July 29, 2019

Oh shit, two weeks in a row? Come through Music Monday!

Proud girl being proud of herself.

Peaceful Easy Feeling by Eagles

I find myself loving songs for different reasons. They hype me up or calm me down, make me dance or make me cry my eyes out. This song calms me down, while at the same time leaves me swaying like a Dad cradling an icy beer at an outdoor concert. 

A Sunday Kind of Love by Etta James
Catch me soaking in my bubble bath, this will be playing on repeat while I live my best soapy, zen'd out life. 

Love Foolosophy by Jamiroquai 

Ok, hear me out. Back in the day a friend and I both became randomly obsessed with A funk odyssey by Jamiroquai as our pump up album before we went out. I think it started as a joke, but soon turned into our favourite thing. This entire album now just makes me so damn happy, judge me, don't care.

Read My Mind by The Killers

I never really got into The Killers.They were always a band that was just kind of there but I felt pretty indifferent about. This song randomly popped up on my Spotify a few months back while on a weird 5am beach walk. I had this instant feeling that it would forever be tied to that very moment. It was as if I felt myself storing that moment in my long term memory and I can picture myself in 10 years randomly hearing it and remember how I was feeling at that exact time. Too deep? Gotta go. 

You're Gonna Live Forever in Me by John Mayer

Yes, I'm back on my John Mayer shit. Random fact, I really like Disney music. I don't really get in to the movies themselves, but I feel attachment to the songs. This song always reminds me of a Disney song, I think it's the whistling, either way, it gives me that same nostalgic feeling.

Merry Go 'Round by Kasey Musgraves 

Recently I've been super in my emotions about realizing what life is. Growing up you feel like you are always building for something, it's like you keep passing through different stages and then that flattens out and you are wondering what the next stage is. Eventually you realize oh, this is life. You can have hopes and goals to work towards, but the typical wake up, go to work, breath for a second and go to bed to do it all over again is how you are going to spend most of it. It's not as glossy as you once thought, and you realize that the destination is actually a hole in the ground, and the journey is all you have. 

She's Got a Way by Billy Joel

Damn, I didn't realize I was so in my feelings with this weeks Music Monday. I really like Billy Joel, although my favourite song is probably Vienna, this has been more heavily played this week. I don't have some great story, I just like Billy Joel (and I don't care what you think Sam!)

Somewhere in my Memory by John Williams 

This is my number one favourite Christmas song. I know what you are thinking. Uhm, it's July? You would be correct, but I listen to Christmas music all year long because I genuinely just love it so much. 

Living Years by Mike & The Mechanics
Some backstory, My father and I don't always have the smoothest relationship. We love each other and get on well in the day to day, but there is some deep shit underneath it all that we handle most of the time but every now and then pops up and gets in the way. After one particular blow out we didn't speak for a few years. During this time my then boyfriend and I were driving to work one morning, chatting away while this song playing on the radio in the background. I didn't even realize I was listening to the lyrics until I was bawling my eyes out. It was incredibly dramatic, and my boyfriend sat there in shock as to what the heck had triggered such a response. This song still makes me cry every time I hear it, but I'm also weirdly attached to it all the same for some reason. 

Boogie 2Nite by Tweet
Ok everything got a little emotional this week obviously! Let me round it out with my shower jam, catch me almost breaking my neck while dancing my heart out every morning.

Brain Pain.

Thursday, July 25, 2019

I've had a migraine for over a week and the only thing that makes me feel any better is pressing ice cubes against my under eyes and holding them there until they melt down my face.

Life is great.

Music Monday Part II

Monday, July 22, 2019

Almost four years ago now I made a post titled Music Monday which was essentially a list of song I had been listening to the most that past week. I'm starting that back up, and by "starting that back up" I mean I may make it a thing, or I may forget about it all together by next week. Who knows! That's show biz.

Dancing Queen

Better Be Home Soon by Crowded House

I recently went through a breakup due to wanting different things at different times, and it was a big old confusing mess. It became clear after a few weeks that we wouldn't be living in the same timezone anymore and that left me sitting on an airplane listening to this song on repeat and trying to hold it together at, 'cause when you get back home maybe I'll be gone. What a moody little story, yikes. 

Beyond by Leon Bridges

Picture me riding my banana-yellow beach cruiser along the Pacific Ocean groovin' slowly, imagining love is real and definitely isn't fake and made up. 

May the Bird of Paradise Fly up Your Nose by Little Jimmy Dickens

Let me set the scene for you. My Dad and I were walking across the parking lot and in an ongoing effort to stump people with random trivia I asked him a question regarding the Bird of Paradise in the garden. Being the fountain of random crap he is he started singing this song about elephants caressing you with his toes and it's been in my head ever since. 

Bonfire by Childish Gambino

When I was in high school I used to drive around blasting music and rapping in my true white girl form in my green Ford Taurus. Camp by Childish Gambino wasn't released at the time but there is something about this song off the album in particular that takes me right back to that time. 

When you Were Made by The Growlers

I'm a child of divorce far more so than I ever was a child of marriage because of this I feel like it never really bothered me that much. Nonetheless, when I want to get deep into my feelings regarding the issue this is where I go and it 100% always makes me feel worse. Whoops. 

Roam by The B52's

My Mum always complains about her children's annoying habit of picking one lyric from a song and repeating it until she physically can't handle it anymore. For the last few weeks, this has been that song for me. Can not remove from brain, it will live for eternity on a loop in my skull.

Roll Over Beethoven by Chuck Berry 

Chuck Berry makes me get shit done. I think it's the guitar solo's, or the fact that I associate him with the McCallister family running through the airport in a rush to catch their flight to Paris. 

That Thing You Do! by The Wonders

People I love in no particular order: Tom Hanks. End of list. I grew up watching Forrest Gump on repeat, and it still sits atop my list of favourite movies. If someone told me I had to die for him to live, I would take that bullet. God, what a legend. Stan for your man ladies!

Gravity By John Mayer

Speaking of stanning for your man, I love John Mayer. I have a very eclectic taste in music and tend to favor individual songs by certain artists instead of their entire catalogue. John Mayer is one the few people where I can go to their Spotify, hit play and not skip a load of songs. Murder me with your guitar John Mayer, I've got the time. 

The Joke by Brandi Carlile

Every now and then I find a song that just fucks. me. up! That is one of those songs. Whenever I'm feeling emotional and I need to just lay on my bed listening to something while I stare at my ceiling contemplating life, this is it (I definitely don't do that though.....that much at least)

One Foot Before the Other by Frank Turner

I once got caught by a janitor furiously "air guitar-ing" to this song. That was fun. 

Through the Wire by Kanye West

I love Kanye West and his cute ass kids and I don't even fucking care. These last few years he's been doing some questionable shit, but after watching his interview on My Next Guest Needs No Introduction with David Letterman I'm back onboard. Also, fuck it up Kanye, rap with your jaw wired shut, live your best life. Fun Fact, I once watched a guy drop acid with his jaw wired shut and it was equal parts terrifying and a mess. 

Sex and Candy by Marcy Playground

This was my Myspace song for a long ass time. Throwback of a throwback of a throwback.

Foods for Thoughts.

Saturday, July 20, 2019

I have a very weird relationship with food.

A few years ago I started gaining a lot of weight without any change to my diet or exercise level.

Around this same time my constant nausea spiked higher than I had ever experienced before (I have suffered with what can only be described as "morning sickness" for about 10 years now, it doesn't effect my life too much as I've learned how to deal with it but occasionally you will find me throwing up in to the nearest public trash can...I love that for me.)

I love eating, and I'm pretty good at it in a social capacity. If I'm out and about with friends or family, it is most commonly around a table, eating. If someone else controls the food, I'm happily eating, but when I'm in control things tend to go a little obscure.

For starters, I only tend to eat once a day. To make matters worse, on a typical work day this isn't until about 9pm and it tends to be something I've ordered because those New York City cliches I picked up run deep!I am constantly running on empty and because I have done this for so many years now, my metabolism feels pretty much nonexistent and I am never hungry. I have lost count of the number of instances coworkers have pointed out that they have never seen me eat.

A doctor a few years back was obviously very distressed by this. She informed me that this was the reason I was gaining weight, my body was constantly starving and holding on to every single pound. This didn't make much sense to me at the time, but I do notice that when I force myself to eat breakfast for a span of a few days or weeks I start to drop the weight quite constantly.

I digress.

This post isn't about weight.

This post is about my brain.

Recently I've been reading a lot of blogs and articles about the idea of food truly being the fuel our bodies need. As mentioned a few posts back, I suffer from anxiety. I constantly feel like my body is working against me, and I want to trial the idea of using food to help combat this.

Today I decide to base my grocery list around foods that were recommended to help combat anxiety. These items are pretty aligned with a that of a typical healthy diet (vegetables, fruits, fatty know, all the stuff we have been told for years and years is the key to health, groundbreaking) but there are also some items I wouldn't normally purchase. Things like Brazil nuts (rich in Selenium, which is a supplement I used to take a few years back), pumpkin seeds (A good source of mineral zinc), dark chocolate (can I become that person who only eats a small square a day to reduce stress, let's find out!) and kimchi (fermented food is apparently great for the brain, who knew!)

I plan to combine all these items with a commitment to eat more regularly and pay closer attention to keeping my body fueled. Fingers crossed these two combined will help me find that extra gear I've been swiveling around blindly looking for.

A few years back Kylie Jenner was mocked pretty mercilessly for branding the upcoming year her year for "realizing stuff." She pointed out that everyone around her was spending 2016 figuring shit out. Well I turn 26 this week, and I've decided to channel some Kylie energy and brand my 26th year (Technically 27th year, but you get the idea) my year of realizing stuff.

Let's see how this goes.

How to Monetize Everything.

Friday, July 19, 2019

Hilary Duff introduced me to blogging.

Well, if you want to get particular, a character played by Hillary Duff introduced me to blogging. The character? Holly. The movie? The Perfect Man. In the movie, Holly was a nomadic teenager whisked between cities while her mother was on the hunt for....get this...The Perfect Man. To self-sooth during these constant relocations she created a blog titled Girl on the Move where she shared the twists and turns of her life with the world. It was a personal diary, anonymously shared with strangers. 

I fell in love. 

I wanted a place on the ever expanding web that could live as a time capsule for my life. That is what this very corner is. Its unfiltered, raw, random and lacking the shine of a heavily curated Instagram feed that appears to be the growing trend among bloggers.  

For me personally, I love writing blogs about my own life just as much as I love reading the tales of another's, the only issue? It feels like nobody is even writing about the normalcy of their own life anymore! Gone are the days of a personal web diary, we are living in 2019 where monetization is the name of the game!

These days is seems that blogs are now nothing more than lists of products to buy, tips on how to wing out some liner or a how to guide to brushing your teeth. 

Tonight I spent some time scouring Blog Lovin' looking for a new blog to read. After pulling my hair out at the lifestyle page, I began searching different phrases hoping to find a window into a strangers life. I started with "First Date" hoping to find a hilarious tale of a disastrous dating mishap, or the retelling of a date that started someones personal love story. Instead I was met with post after post, list after list of what to say or not say on a date. It was all the same, it was all written to be easily shareable, and therefore monetized. There was no personality, no anecdotes, no spark. 

After a few different searches I was left without a blog to browse and a realization that the diary days appear to be long gone. I feel as if I'm on the hunt for 2005. A time where blogs devoted to the very practice of how to monetize your own blog didn't exist and people didn't log on looking for their stay at home career.

Bloggers wanted, aspiring influences need not apply. 

The Drafts.

Wednesday, July 17, 2019

Today I noticed this blog had 95 drafts spanning the last 6 years.

My face at that moment. Obviously.


So I have decided to clear through them in the hunt for some gold.

The first one is titled Perverts in the Park from April 19th 2013. Upon opening it up, I realize it is completely blank. Bad start....delete.

Another has no title and the entire contents was a simple list...

Meat Pie
Sausage Rolls
Paddle Pop
Golden Gaytime
Sausage Sizzle

I'm going to go ahead and assume I was quite hungry and missing Australia on that sunny July day. Anyway, delete.

A few weeks later in August I had two separate one lined drafts. It rained in New York Today and then five days later the not quite as clear It rained in New. It must have been a rainy and boring few days. Delete.

My next, more lengthy post is titled wHITE GIRL COMPLEX, and that title alone means I'm probably about to open some really high-brow content.

I don't understand it. This weird world of only eating asparagus and a few raw almonds. Health is one thing but this is INSANITY PEOPLE! The other day a friend of mine almost bore a whole in the floor of her apartment doing jumping jacks because she was determined to lose two pounds before we went out for the night. TWO POUNDS? Cut of your big toe and call it a day people!

Yikes, I was opinionated back in 2013 huh? My favourite line of the whole thing was about having no problem yelling that I was a size 6 from the rooftops. Oh sweet little child, gone are the size 6 days let me tell you, delete.

Two of my favourites from that Fall again have no content, just a cutting headline and a blinking cursor. People I hate followed a week later with Things I don't understand about Guys. Apparently as the weather started to cool, so did the feelings in my 20 year old heart......and boy did it cool quickly

(August 13th, 2013) ...Who decided this was cool? Who decided making women uncomfortable as they walk from point A to point B was anything other than annoying? I can't tell if it is a mans attempt to be flattering, if they really think they will gain anything from such an exchange or whether they just want to swing there penis around because I am man hear me roar.

Yikes, delete (but still a completely valid point!)

By mid-October I had moved on to 50 Facts about Myself. I started 3 different posts on this very topic and never got past #8, riveting and delete. 

On October 29th, I decided to drop a complete cliffhanger.

My life is one blunder after the next. The fact that I am still alive to speak of my stupidity stuns me every day.

The blunder most recently?

AND THEN NOTHING! I'm genuinely curious what that mishap was...delete.

Then things took a really bizarre turn. To preface this, I started this post I'm currently writing before I started going through my drafts, with no idea what was inside. I genuinely didn't think I had every done this before, but I just stumbled on a post from October 30th, 2013 title? Saved Drafts. and don't worry the content is equally as thrilling...

Today I went back and read all the draft post

"Today I listened to a hell of a lot of Fleetwood Mac, ate Crif Dog and then immediately wanted to kill myself because of my poor choices and wanted to rip my ovaries out."

Damn. Nothing really has changed in 6 years....annnnnd delete.

After wading through a few more weeks of Untitled Posts with nothing but a blinking cursor and the odd cryptic post such as Sometimes I... I stumbled into a section of emails I had drafted to an ex-boyfriend...delete, delete, delete, delete, WHY ISN'T THIS DELETING FASTER!

Today I thought about calling the dentist and making an made me feel like a real adult. But then I remembered I hate talking to people on the phone and I chickened out. So Close.

Still mostly true. Delete.

Fast forward to February 2014 and a post titled Things I need to STOP DOING

Telling people I can't go out because I feel sick. 

WRONG! NO! The reason I don't want to go out? I went out yesterday and I hate people so that was a massive stretch. In all actuality I have always been quite an introverted person. Don't get me wrong I love my friends and spending time with them but I also love being by myself. It's almost as if being around people, especially large amounts of strangers, exhausts me. I need my own time to recharge and think deep philosophical things....and watch tons and tons of really bad TV shows.

Forgetting to look at the weather. 

My least favourite thing about NYC is that you are constantly forced to take public transport, a)because I hate people remember! b)I love driving. I suck at it! But I have a blast doing it. and c) it means lots of walking long distances and general inconvenience.

Telling people to suck my dick.

I don't have a penis which is reason enough to stop, but

Still all true. DELETE.

A post titled I've been looking for you Lone Star? 

With just a single picture...

Google tells me this is a quote from Dallas Buyers Club. My roommates and I did sit around and watch this around about that time, so I mean...checks out, but delete.

I've been listening to Kelly Clarkson's Christmas album wrapped in red on repeat for 3's March. Deleting, while simultaneously rocking around the fucking Christmas tree. 

While Run, Run Rudolph blasts away happily in the background I come across some pure, confused 20 year old emotions...yikes...

(March 14th, 2014) The important thing to remember is that there is a reason the names you hear around in stories from your new love are in the past. If there was still something there, they would probably not be with you. 

(March 22nd, 2014) At one point this boy had literally been my other. We spent all night watching terrible TLC shows, he made me watch hockey before I was ever a fan, we got kicked out of the studio together for being too utterly obnoxious. He was always there. Even when I screamed at him to not be, he was there. He was the most familiar thing in this foreign city, and I made this stupid decision to discard that.

(March 23rd, 2014) Is it possible for your morals to grow?

(March 24th, 2014)Today whilst having a little chat with my roommate he said something that literally embodied every thing I've been feeling these last couple of weeks.

"I don't even feel like they are my good friends, they are just people I get drunk and have fun with."

My last post from March 2014 was simply titled March. and was completely blank. I'm sure it was supposed to be a scathing review of the month I had just emotionally battled through because seriously...yikes. Don't worry little me, I'll keep your long winded March posts exactly where you left them.

Everything is coming up April...

Hey do you ride bikes? Do you want this bike? I will sell you this bike.
No thank you.
I look black don't I? But I'm not, I'm Panamanian. Don't I look black?
Uhmmm...I guess?
I'm not though! I'm Panamanian.
That must be nice.

and of course,

Dermot Mulroney isn't aging as well as 14 year old Jordyn would have liked.

Delete, and a personal apology to Dermot Mulroney, I am still very much in love with you.

Holy Shit, remember how I said we left dramatic emotions in March? Wrong.

This time I wasn't crying because of the physical pain I had surging through my veins leaving me hot, but instead to mourn the loss of the fresh, young girl with a life untouched by this venomous city. That girl was gone, brutally maimed and replaced with whatever this was, a battered and broken little girl living deep within this strange robot exterior.

Hmmm....2014 is off to a smashing start. 

The next entry is titled Kardashian Nation and contains just a single line,

The other morning I woke up covered in cereal and clutching an empty bottle of wine.

She's back ladies and gentleman, she is BACK....and delete.

By June I had decided to look a the positive with a post titled Things I love. What was on the list?

Cool Ranch Doritos
Puppes was a start. Delete.

June continued with a single post titled Haunt Me.  That contained just a single excerpt from a conversation...

"Hey Jordyn, I read your blog the other day where you said you liked certain words. My favourite word is ejaculate. Isn't that a great word? Like you literally ejaculate the word ejaculate from your mouth."

I literally have no idea who had originally said that, but I am judging them. Delete.

An August post titled I Haven't Packed was written right before a trip to New Zealand and contained just a single screenshot...

Great content. Delete. (Sidenote. That picture of George Clooney covered in spots from W Magazine that was my background is still one of my favourites!)

Bored yet? Great, let's crack on!

Time to wade through some mess...

Said Mess. 

(November 8th, 2014) breaking the law breaking the law- infraction.

I am as confused as you are.

Anyway as the emotional and messy months of 2014 come to and end, I decide to begin reminiscing about my thrilling childhood.

Once in the 3rd grade my best friend and I decided we needed the worlds largest ball of blu-tac. I'm not sure where exactly this fascination came from, but we did a lot of weird things (we had pet rocks with googly eyes, we made flyers for our own chocolate factory we planned on opening, and we avidly supported left handers day). So this thought was not unusual and so we went about collecting blu-tac. It was an addiction, a really weird, nerdy addiction. It wasn't until the posters began to fall from the walls of the classroom that people really started to get suspicious. Eventually our master plan was foiled when the ever sweet Mrs. Patterson had enough of falling artwork and demanded we stop stealing her precious supply. Heartbroken we gave up. To this day I'm not sure what exactly happened to that giant (albeit a little bizarre) ball of 'tac but I'm sure he is living well...or in the trash...who really knows.

See I wasn't just a weird adult, I was also a pretty weird child. My partner in Blu-Tac crime is also the friend who unfortunately took a dunk in our very dirty pool in the middle of winter, and who cut me off as a friend the Summer before 6th grade. What a great time in my life to remember, deleteeeeee. 

By the time my next draft rolls around it's already July of 2015 and I have some really hard hitting information to share.

How does Harry Styles rock white skinny jeans so well? This should be a major turn off...but I'm totally into it.

The saddest part of this post is that shortly after, my brother informed me that Harry Styles actually looks exactly like my old roommate which became a sight I couldn't unsee and therefore the end of my Harry Styles phrase. RIP + DLT.

November of that year brought us squishy friend moments...

Sidenote, There are very few things I truly miss in my life. But that friendship is one of them. Alas, we roll on.

The next few drafts fall into two categories,  completely blank or personal emails to individual people never intended to be posted to strangers online.

Finally, I have reached my last draft.

Today I threw up on myself, washed my clothes in the sink at work, stated a juice cleanse (and followed it up with a rice crispy treat), and then hysterically bawled my eyes out watching Survivor.

22 is fun.

22 is easy.

Talk about a full circle moment....TOLD YOU I LOVED SURVIVOR!

Let Me Tell You Astoria

Tuesday, July 16, 2019

I've had a couple of different blogs in my day.

This is my most long running, but maybe not my favourite.

That crown sits with Let Me Tell You Astoria, a blog I started when I was 17 and right about to move to New York City (Astoria...obviously...I still think that's a great name!)

I vividly remember when the idea to start blogging struck. We were sitting around a lunch table, on the verge of graduating high school and splintering off in different directions when suddenly it hit us. Let's all start blogging as a way to keep in touch. 

One friend who was in Staten Island branded herself Living In The Forgotten Borough, and would write deep posts about blogging being a form of therapy. Another was Lost in Boston who retold tales of watching ladies faint in CVS and cute dogs roaming the streets of her new home. I wish I could remember the rest, but unfortunately we chose to use Xanga as our platform of choice, so I'm not able to link to all the fresh out of the hometown womb goodness we all shared with the world. But let me tell you, it was great. 

I signed off every one of my own posts with the same sentiment, With Fingers Crossed, and honestly I don't think I could sum up that time of my life any better. 

I feel like I remember every single second of every single day during my first six months in the real world. It was this blissful bubble of what if's and figuring shit out, filled with tearful phone calls and not being able to afford my rent. Recently I downloaded all my archival footage from that old bubble, and honestly, it could have happened yesterday....

My first New York home. A shared apartment in Astoria with a complete stranger found on Craigslist. She was around my age now, Bulgarian and would have loud shouting phone calls and even louder sex. We would spend some nights talking about our weeks, and some weeks without talking at all. I remember the smell of this apartment so vividly, I remember the way I felt inside it. I remember the market at the end of the block that was open all hours, for me to stop at 2am to buy bread, fruit, chocolate and chicken salad. I remember the oversized care package my Mum sent me full of food, candy and Subway gift cards. I remember the time I sat on my front stoop crying because the boy I liked was with another girl. I remember the drunken night that left my new friend Alina asleep on the couch in my room. I remember the time my roommate left a giant tree right outside my bedroom door that I lovingly kicked in the dead of could have happened yesterday...

An 18 year old in a laundromat. Fun fact about this picture, my hair is actually 100% fake. I can explain...Picture if you will, a naive little girl on the corner of Lexington and 22nd St is approached by a complete stranger. I love your hair...where do you get it done? The stranger asks leaving said little girl flattered and willing to talk. At the time I had no idea this kind of marketing existed, so I handed over my debit card information and bought some pampering service at a random salon on 5th Avenue before tottering into class, confidence boosted. Fast forward a week or two, and there I was getting cut and colored, living my best life. The fateful moment came where the hairstylist spun me towards the mirror to reveal his work and my entire heart almost fell through the floor, my hair was gone. Picture a buzzcut with front bangs, that was my life. I cried. I have never cried at a haircut before, but there I was.

I left in a flurry, wandering over to Madison Square Park to go and meet up with a friend (the aforementioned Living in the Forgotten Borough) We spent the day walking around, eating candy from Dylan's Candy Bar and Indian food from Pongsri in Murray Hill. I almost forgot about my hair until I saw my reflection in the Subway window while crossing the Queensboro bridge on the way home. I was days away from starting a new job, and had plans to meet up with a guy I was mildly obsessed with (....more on that some other time!) yet I actually wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.

I went home and instantly got to googling my options. That was the day I learned that lace wigs were even a thing, and luckily enough just a few blocks over was a salon that specialized in just that. Now please bear in mind that at this point in my life I was incredibly poor. I was just about to start my $9 an hour job, and would just be making enough money to scrape by. But I threw all that straight into the wind, and shelled out a hefty chunk of my savings for this hair. It was shiny and new, almost my exact hair color, and the answer to my tears. I left that salon floating, hair swishing around me. Confidence safely returned to my could have happened yesterday.

The Picture I took the exact moment I got home with my new hair....mildly threatening...

A few months ago I was back in New York City visiting my brother, and we took a wander through McCarren Park. I got felt up in this park once. I retold while pointing to the exact tree it happened under. Let me explain...When I first moved to New York City my first friend was a girl called Stephanie (I have had three separate close friends called Stephanie in my get's confusing.) We went to school together, and were surprisingly the only people we met at school who were new to the city and without a friend. So we stuck together. One day in particular she messaged me about a free (our favourite word at the time) play of Little Mermaid taking place in the park, so we went along. Full of Polish food from Krolewskie Jadlo, we sat with a group of 15 strangers under a tree, and watched the Little Mermaid (the dark and scary version....see above monster....Disney who?) play out in front of us. All of a sudden I felt a hand on my leg...weird. I pretended I didn't notice, hoping it would stop. There it was again, this time higher, and rubbing. I looked at Stephanie for help but she didn't notice. Psst, I whispered to no avail. Being young and scared of this strange man, I let it happen. This went on for a good 15 minutes before I was able to get her attention, HELP, my eyes screamed. With the creepy beast puppets still floating around above us, we got the heck out of there. Our pierogi filled bellies laughing at the scene we left could have happened yesterday...

Oh Fashion's Night Out. Now for those of you unfamiliar, Fashion's Night Out was a night in the fall where the retailers of New York City would join together to It was put on by Vogue, and was filled with free champagne, celebrities and stores all over the city held parties with exciting attractions to entice a crowd. In 2011, FNO was so exciting to me. Leighton Meester was singing in Tiffany's, Sarah Jessica Parker was signing books at Manolo Blahnik (the line was so long we couldn't get in....BUT Stephanie did snap this picture as she was being whisked off in her car) and I was young and full of free could have happened yesterday...

My first night out in New York City. Two girlfriends and I spent the night dancing at Avenue before retreating to dive-y El Sombrero on the Lower East Side for cocktails amongst the hoards of other college kids doing the same exact thing. It's always good to know the bar's that don't card (Here is looking at you Blarney Stone on 47th....the number of nights I spent in you. Oh Blarneys, I hated you dearly but miss you fondly) Speaking of, I actually visited El Sombrero by accident a few years back, I genuinely did not recognize the place. Gone was the dirt and crime, I was so shocked I took to Yelp in true, New Yorker fashion! could have happened yesterday....

Sometimes you just have to give credit, where it is due.

Oh 18, you lovely, beautiful, mess. Thank you for happening. Thank you for the night I climbed a three-story fire escape. Thank you for the night I spent hysterically crying on the phone to the boy who, for some reason, was were I dumped all my 18 year old confusion. Thank you to the afro'd Greek man who said he loved me every Sunday in the laundromat. Thank you to Cuban SpiderMan in Times Square for his nightly fist pump. Thank you to my Mum for sending me rent money when I couldn't get it together. It all feels like it truly happened yesterday. 

Life is Lovely. Part II.

It's currently 3:37am, and I've been sitting here for past few hours reading the 200+ blog posts from the last 8 years of my life.

I was smiling the whole time.

Although views on this blog have been consistent, engagement never was. I saw people were clicking but I often felt like I was yelling into an abyss with the only certainty being that my own Mum would be applauding back (now if that ain't a fact of my life I don't know what is!)

But then suddenly, I realized as I sat here in my little apartment in Hermosa Beach, smiling at my memories and laughing at my own jokes, it was all worth it.

Some posts were just a few sentences, spit out by a busy 20 year old on the go.

Other posts were lengthy paragraphs filled with run-on sentences from the mind of a confused 22 year old.

But every post took me right back to that moment, to the times that have been and gone, and I was beaming.

It made me realize that no matter if I'm in a peak or a valley, my life is A-Ok with me.

One particular post called Life is Lovely, written almost exactly five years ago today, stood out.

It began with me celebrating the fact that I deposited money into a "Move to California" account (Well past Dordyline, you have actually lived in California for two and half years now....three cheers to going out and getting what the fuck you want!) before veering off towards a list of things I love.

Just a 21 year old little bean being content with her world.

Five years on, life is still lovely and here is another ramble-y list of things that make me happy...

Living by the Beach.
Do not get me wrong, I loved the years I spent in New York City, filled with hustle and bustle and weird smells. But being able to stand on my front step and see the ocean, or walk along the beach smiling at dogs, amazing.

Old Friends.
There is something really beautiful about the people you loved when you were 13. The people you figured out life with, who saw you at your messiest, your funnest, your most insecure. There is also something really beautiful about living completely different lives, yet crashing together every now and then to reminisce and commiserate. 

When living by the beach, and old friends combine.

I just realized that my two year blog hiatus means that this blog never saw me in my Hamilton loving glory. I still go to bed every night thinking everything Lin Manuel Miranda touches is gold.

My InstantPot.
Remember when this blog used to be about drunk escapades? Yeah, I'm old now.

A "Passionate from Miles Away" Cocktail from Di An Di in New York City.
I literally stalked the restaurant for the recipe and bought all the ingredients to make at home. I have never been more deliciously punched in the face by a drink in my life.

Keeping yourself humble.

Hey, sometimes it's good to shake off the cobwebs and party like you're young, dumb and broke again. 

Don Lemon. 
I recently watched his interview on "Red Table Talk" and I was actually taken aback with how much I fell in love with him 

Ok, hear me out.....I'm a huge fan of Survivor. I think I may have mentioned it on here over the years, but I'm not 100% sure/ I don't know what it is about it but I've watched my favourite (Micronesia, Heroes vs Villains,Redemption Island) and least favourite (Nicaragua) seasons multiple times and I even watch strategy videos on Youtube in my spare don't get me started, because I'll never shut up and it will get embarrassing. Also, yes I am aware it is no longer 2002, thank you for the observation. 

La Croix.
Basic Bitches, Unite. Tangerine, all day.

Trader Joes.
I didn't have Trader Joe's growing up because I mean...Australia.... I never went to Trader Joe's in NYC because I mean...too busy...would rather die. It wasn't until I moved to Los Angeles that I truly leaned in to Trader Joe's freaking hard. Personal Favourite Snack items I hear you yell? Freeze dried mangos, lentil chips, the knock-off Terry's Chocolate Orange,Salty Honey Toffee Milk Chocolate Covered Crackers (I shit you not, I took a picture of these back on November 16th, 2018 and I just scrolled back to remember what they were called...)

Yummy Mummies on Netflix.
Biiiiitch, I started watching this almost as a joke, but the jokes on me because when season 2 was released I finished it in less than a day. 

Stay With Me by Rod Stewart.
Growing up my Mum and I would always argue. I thought he was a dude, my Mum thought he was gross. Well jokes on you Mum, I'm an adult now.

Stress Eating Capsicums/Bell Pepper's like apples.
Nice to meet you, I'm still that bitch.

Gotta Blast,

Netflix and Panic.

A Dordyline panic attack live in action. (With added "She cries at everybodies party..." comment from random friends mother at the end.....this was my life)

I was an incredibly shy child.

I bawled at the very thought of a Happy Birthday serenade, I crawled on the floor to avoid visitors, I ran away from sleepovers early in fear, and I worried daily.

I never understood my emotions. My family labeled me dramatic, I bottled it up and the world kept spinning. I didn't know how to properly communicate the hefty weight that lived in my chest, or the wind that constantly blew though my head muddling the sound of the world around me. I didn't know how to explain the worry that twisted my organs into balls of bloody matter trying to burst through my skin.

I didn't know how to let anybody know, so I just cried and got on with it.

As I grew, this constant fear and worry manifested itself in peculiar ways. Instead of a mysterious presence running rampant within my body I would try and tie it to tangible things. I would google the likelihood of dying in a car accident, of being doused with acid, or losing mobility of my limbs. I would research how you take care of a sick relative to feel prepared for a future that may arise. I would google how to prevent SIDs in the children I didn't have and wake up my (now ex) boyfriend with a groan...

"I turned the brightness down! How did you even know I was awake this time?" I would complain while furiously smashing my keyboard looking for answers. He would angrily pull my computer away and demand I go to sleep before rolling over and dozing off, most likely to the sound of my accelerated heart smashing against my ribs.

At times, it consumes my entire life. My obsessive compulsive tendencies take over my mind and body, counting steps as I walk and massaging my cuticles in order under the table or during long Uber rides. Counting keeps my mind calm, it keeps me guilt free that if something happens I will not be at fault, because I did my counting.

I'm 26 (well, almost) now, and I wish I could say I was learning to cope, but that would be nothing but a fallacy I want myself to believe. Heck, just this morning it crawled into my Monday....

"Only three pumps of bubble bath? You only want your parents to live for 3 more years" The cloud appeared forcing me to dump 50 full pumps of bubbles into my bath leaving my body slimy, but my brain satisfied.

I used to cope by living a life filled with interesting and obscure stories to keep eyes off my mind. I would roam around town desperately searching for people and experiences to fill the time in between panic attacks.

I loved spending a blurry hour or two in a dive bar with a few friends before running outside, sticking my hand in the air and falling into a yellow cab heading for another adventure.



"The corner of Orchard and Grand"

I would command before staring out the window as New York City wizzed around outside. Three seconds later I would jump out, brush past sidewalk smokers and push my way through a crowd to find my friendly faces.

I would go and go and go some more until I was forced to stop, disappearing fast and quick to cry and worry and overanalyze every thought and emotion I had ever felt.

"Where did you go last night?" My friends would push as I laughed it off with an air of mystery.

"I swear you are doing porn..." A friend once pushed, after I would not explain where I had run off to the night before.

How do you tell someone, who doesn't understand, that every now and then you need to explode in order to rebuild yourself to somewhat resemble a person?

How do you explain that the mysterious week you didn't answer any texts and completely dropped off the grid, you were actually alone in your apartment sitting around waiting to go to sleep again.

How do you pull someone into an experience you don't even understand yourself?

When you find out, let me know.

I have taken up painting pictures while listening to audiobooks to calm my mind....I have no actual artistic talent, but hey it sure keeps my mind busy.