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Sunday, October 16, 2011

Karaoke night!

I went out with all of my girls last night to karaoke. It was so much fun- I hadn't seen most of them in months, so it was really great to reconnect and be silly together! But just as a rant- when they left and I was waiting for my husband to come and pick me up from the bar, this creepy Tony Stark wannabe was hitting on me and wouldn't leave me alone!! I kept telling him I was married and apparently wearing a short skirt and boots negates that.

So just for all you guys out there- if a girl says thanks but no thanks at a bar, even if she's drunk (or especially), leave her alone!! There are probably some other girls there who might be interested in your lame lines and don't mind that you asked her where she's from 5,000 times. Don't waste your time on me!

Monday, October 10, 2011

Don't be a jerk

Make life easier for other people! I hate it when I see someone litter, or leave their tray of dirty food on the table at the fast food places, or not open a door for someone carrying something heavy.... You get the idea. Why not take that two seconds of your life to remove one step from someone else’s job or day that might make it just a little better? This applies to so many things- throwing your change in the Salvation Army bucket during the holidays, donating $1 to whatever cause your grocery store is promoting that month, checking your neighbor’s mail on vacation for them (or even knowing your neighbor’s name- what if they need something? What if they’re old?) Asking a woman crying on the side of the road if she’s okay. Offering a ride to a United States soldier. Being nice to a telemarketer even though you’re not going to buy their shit. Or, even more challenging- being nice to the two young Mormon boys who just interrupted you doing your tarot card reading or *ahem* in a compromising position with your husband (not that that’s EVER happened to me).
Who knows when you’ll need someone to be kind to you and make your day easier? How much do you appreciate it when someone lets you merge into their lane or opens the door for you on your way into your office building?

Sunday, October 9, 2011


This is my favorite time of year. The leaves are starting to change color (though it's nothing compared to the change of seasons in New York) and the weather is perfection. I love lazy fall days when the sun is shining and the sky seems bluer than it is any other time of year. Whether Indian Summer comes or not, there's just something spectacular about the blue sky of October and November; it's just more vibrant somehow- the blue of spring is warmer and more golden; the sky of summer is hard and hot; in winter everything has a sheen of silver and gray to it, even when there are no clouds. But in autumn, it's sapphire, a pure, true blue that takes nothing away from the rest of the scenery.
All of the colors are more vibrant. The people are, too; girls break out scarves, jeans make their first appearance in months now that it's cool enough to wear them, short skirts and boots paired with long coats and sweaters and bright colors. Pumpkins and corn stalks and bright stars shining in early night skies. Everything feels more real in the fall- the school year has begun again and even if it's been years or decades since you were in school, something of that "beginning of the year" feeling remains. To me, I've always felt that September is more of a new year than January.
And for me, fall is now the time of year when I met my husband. So there's the memory of two years ago, getting out of my brother's truck at the metro, wearing golden heels and a full skirt, walking up to the entrance of the metro station swaying my hips to introduce myself to the handsome, tall man waiting for me. Walking down King Street towards our first date in the cool, clear early evening of autumn. And our anniversary, Halloween, when I realized that this was more than just a fling and started to see that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this man.
My favorite season, without a doubt.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011


Being married is kind of like living in Neverland.

Seriously. It's like being all grown up (I mean, only grownups get married- I hope...) and yet I get to live with my best friend who is really just a big kid. I get to laugh delightedly over the silliest things and watch cartoons until 2:00 in the morning and play video games and have fun.

Sure, I have to go to work every day and work, but then I get to come home at night and live in my own little world where time stands still and age doesn't exist. My husband is 31 and I'm 28, but when we're in our apartment we are ageless (except when we both act like we're about 10 years old).

And I'm lucky with work, too, because I have a job that I love where I get to joke around and laugh and talk to people all day long and have fun with my employees. My job is definitely work, but it's also play a lot of the time, too.

I feel younger than I did two years ago. How cool is that?

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the East (Coast)

The title came to me after I put up that picture. Kind of looks like Elphaba in Gregory Maguire's Wicked.

Anyway. This is me. Me is this. I haven't entirely decided what this blog will be about, but I know I need to start writing again, so here I am. A new blog for a new life. I have no idea if anyone will ever read this but me, but being a writer who doesn't write is just too much for me now. So I'll write about myself, and hope it helps someone along the way.

So a brief history of this Wicked Witch:

I was born and raised in Upstate New York. I lived in the same house until I went away to college, outside of NYC. College was great. I learned how to drink and smoke. And some academics on top of those basic survival skills.

The story doesn't really get too interesting until after college.

I graduated in 2005 with a degree that was, to be brutally honest, extremely interesting and not at all helpful in the "real" world. So I moved back home with my parents while I tried to figure out what to do with my life. Somehow that translated to sending out generic resumes to places that weren't hiring and whining a lot. So it was actually kind of a relief when my Dad told me to get off his couch, stop drinking his beer, and find a job.

So I did. I found one of those meant-to-be-in-the-meantime-while-I-find-something-that-uses-my-college-degree waitressing jobs. C'mon, we've all had them. It wasn't supposed to last longer than a few months- a little life experience, good tips, "save" money, and then you quit without notice and you're off to your real job where you become ___fill in the blank___. (Rich and famous, an actress, married, a sports star, a singer, a lotto winner, Scarlett O'Hara, whatever it is for you).

That's the idea, anyway. But how often does it really work out that way? One in ten? A hundred? A thousand?

I was only supposed to be a waitress for a few months- six, maximum. I was already thinking about moving to Virginia- I had family down here, there were more jobs in the capitol of the US than in Upstate NY or Vermont- I had options.

How many of us out there love excuses? I mean, live for them. I can't follow that actually really scary dream I have for myself- not because it's too hard and I might fail but because... umm... my dog died? 

Well, my excuse for not moving hundreds of miles away immediately was actually a little more plausible- my Dad was diagnosed with cancer. My Daddy. Immortal. Brilliant. Cancer. Does. Not. Compute.

Of course I wanted to stay close to home while he was going through treatment. (It's true- but it's also an excuse. An excuse not to try, to keep waitressing, to date an absolute asshole-ex-drug-addict, to barely have any money, to hardly manage to pay rent, ___fill in the blanks with stupid things you do when you're in your mid twenties __).

To my credit, when my Dad was better (and he's a cancer survivor now, if you were worried, and still as immortal and brilliant as ever [and still gets mad when I go home to visit and drink his beer]) I did end up moving to Virginia, where I did a little more with my excuses and my hiding from the future. But I wouldn't trade that for anything.

I moved in with my brother and, to make a long story short, worked for almost two years as my nephew's nanny- from six weeks after he was born until he was almost two and almost a big brother to my second nephew. They are the coolest kids I know and I treasure every moment I got to spend helping them become that way.

Post-nannyhood takes me a little closer to the present day and a lot closer to where my life changed and I went from directionless to grounded, focused, and happy.

In April of 2009, when my sister-in-law was in the hospital giving birth to my second nephew, I chatted with a smart and funny guy on a dating website for two nights. Then I forgot about him completely when everyone came home from the hospital and I was helping out with a toddler, newborn, and their parents.

Five months later, on my way home from a crappy job I had at a specialty clothing store which shall remain nameless because I don't want to get sued for slander, I was walking up an escalator at Huntington Metro Station. I noticed a guy in a suit on the escalator next to me checking me out. I remember thinking I just worked eight hours at the lousiest job in the world and I still look cute, how flattering, it's eleven thirty at night and I'm a single white female at the metro, where the hell are the car keys and how far away did I park?!

Got home, poured a glass of wine, and for some reason decided to log onto that old dating website I hadn't looked at in ages. There was a new message waiting for me.

I think I just saw you at Huntington Station!

It was that same sweet, smart, funny guy I'd talked to twice and then completely blew off. He recognized me from my picture (almost called out my screen name).

We met in person for the first time two years ago this past Friday.

We've been married exactly eight months today.