This House Is Not A Home

As an avid reader of blogs I really hate when bloggers go missing and I am not updated on what’s going on in their life. And of course…I just did that for the past month. So sorry! But a girl’s gotta live! So for now I’m back, still alive and have tons of stories to tell.

I have now successfully completed my second month in the city! *cheers* It seems both unbelievable and comfortable at the same time. The one place I am not comfortable is the place where I am paying rent. I know I’ve expressed before how this was going to be a difficult situation but as every celebrity on MTV Diaries has said; “You think you know but you have no idea.”

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Crotches and Poles

No, no, I did not go to a strip club in the city…although that is on my bucket list. In fact, I think there’s one not far from where I work. I wouldn’t give them any money though. I’m a broke college student grad. I’m sure they would prefer to have hundred dollar bills rain on them instead of the roll of nickels my grandmother gave me before I left for New York. (Hey Drake, I think I just came up with a new song for you; strippers, a sentimental story about throwing nickels at her, and then something about you falling in love with the imprint of Jefferson’s face on her right cheek. Feel free to put my Grammy in the mail).

This story is about my favorite form of transportation…THE SUBWAY! The subway has given me so many hilarious stories already it’s ridiculous. But, hopefully it’s also entertaining. *joke sound effect inserted here*

There’s Something About Today…

Today I woke up and changed my hairstyle 5 times. This is after I spent an hour before bed pre styling it. I ended up pulling it into my everyday bun.

Today when I threw on the dress I had been planning to wear all weekend I realized it would be too hot. I changed outfits 4 times and still went to work covered in lint.

Today when I walked down the winding and cluttered hallway in this shared apartment I knocked over my roommates fake plant that for some reason was in a vase with water. In my hustle to wipe up the mess and get out of the door I forgot that yesterday I made 5 sandwiches….and of course I didn’t even remember to take one to work.

Today I had to wait 25 minutes for a train only to have to stand the entire 40 minute commute home.

Despite the variety of troubles I encountered…today also marked something more joyous.

A Cautionary “Tail”

I’ve always dreamed of working in the fashion industry. I imagined it was filled with beautiful people who wear beautiful clothes and have an unparalleled amount of influence on what people put in their closets. Now that I work in the fashion industry, (which is still unbelievable to me), I see all of that is basically true. However, there are a few things that no one tells you. There are hazards. Hazards that may shock you. At least it was shocking to me.

The Worst Seat on the Subway

This title is a slight lie…because the true worst seat on the subway is not having one. So this should really be called The Second Worst Seat on the Subway. I’m sure everyone has a favorite and least favorite seat on the train. So far I prefer to plant myself right next to the door. It’s super convenient if you know which side of the train is going to open up once you get to your destination. It’s only slightly convenient if you end up on the wrong side. (Embarrassing Side Note: I didn’t know there were two sides until about the third time I rode the train.) Basically, as long as I can get out without having to push people down I’m good. But there is one particular seat I have learned to actually hate. A seat so annoying, that if it was the only one left I may or may not consider just standing the whole entire ride.

You’ve Got Great New York Bagels

Three stars for you if you can catch the reference.

From all of the shows and movies I watched set in New York, I got the idea that New Yorkers liked bagels. It didn’t seem too odd of a staple food item. I mean, bagels are good. They’re versatile, you can toast them, slather on butter, or cream cheese. You can even make bagel sandwiches for breakfast, lunch or dinner. They’re also portable, so I assumed busy New Yorkers loved them for their “grab and go” capability. I’ve always liked bagels, but I never loved them. To me bagels have always been a cute way to eat bread and that’s about it. But now? Oh, now I see the light that shines through the middle of those glorious clouds of sunshine.

R.I.P. Just Killed the Cat

Word to Young Jeezy.

In my college apartment I had three roommates. I had different levels of “like” for each of them. Apparently, it’s not any different post-college. Now I only have one human roommate and two furry roommates. One I hate, one I tolerate and one I am just indifferent about. The dog is basically one of the best roommates I’ve ever had. I honestly forget he’s here. I also forget if he’s actually a “he.” But, it doesn’t even matter because he minds his own business, lays out on the floor melting from the heat and stays in the other room. In fact, the dog and I are a lot alike, that must be why he’s my favorite.

My least favorite roommate isn’t a cat from hell; he is the cat from hell. He is annoying, he won’t leave me alone and his favorite activity is trying to push my door open at night. When I was viewing the place I thought “Aw how cute! A kitty! Just like at home.” Then when my human roommate explained to me that he was there to kill the rats I thought “Aw how gross! A rat killer! But what a useful little buddy.”

To Move and Be Moved Pt. 1: (Un)settling Down

There are very few things that I absolutely, utterly, down in the pit of my soul despise. Actually, that’s not true, there are a lot. But I am only going to name three.

1. Being so hot that my sweat glands turn into faucets and just pour out salty water from my face. (Yes, I realize that was disgusting but I know you now have a great visual).
2. Being abruptly woken up out of my sleep. My mom has been on the receiving end of many “What do you want?”‘s on mornings when I have asked to her to make sure I was awake. And my alarm clocks, my poor poor alarm clocks, deserve worker’s comp for everything I have put them through.
3. Having to move and never feeling comfortable.

Success & the City: The PRECURSOR

For approximately 400 billion years I’ve imagined how amazing it would be to live in New York. I would have a Carrie Bradshaw apartment, Carrie Bradshaw clothes, a Carrie Bradshaw closet, and a Carrie Bradshaw social life. (She could keep her love life, it was a little too messed up for me.) Okay, so maybe I haven’t always imagined how amazing it would be to live in New York. Maybe I’ve just always imagined how amazing it would be to live like Carrie Bradshaw. Regardless of what my real motives were for yearning for a life in the city, the person I saw on my very first day of my (better than Carrie Bradshaw’s) job gave me all the confirmation I needed to know that this is going to be an amazing chapter in my life.

No, it wasn’t Sarah Jessica Parker or her super adorable twins but a close second. Er…close third? Alright, no less than the fourth best person to see on my first day. It was Cynthia Nixon and her luck of the Irish red-headed youngest son. I couldn’t help but think this was a good sign. This third chapter of my life is going to be nothing less than stellar. All because I saw Miranda in the City!

ENDING NOTE: Um, New Yorkers, how often do you see her on the subway because I was the only one freaking out and that’s just plain not acceptable. Do better.