The Many Ways in Which I Plan To Kick 2009's Ass

2008 could have been a better year. Without going into specifics, what should have been one of the best years of my life (senior year! graduating college! Entering the real world! Being an adult!) quickly dissolved into a year of stress, sadness, and a lot of loneliness. Details aren’t really important, but overall 2008 pretty much bit it (save for a few redeeming moments with the people who make my world go ‘round).

New years is nice and all, however, I prefer to break my years up by age. After all, I feel that from 16-22 every single year I was a distinctly different human being at each age interval. At 22 I am content and happy with myself whereas at 16 i was an insecure mess (okay, I'll admit it, I was a bit on the emo-kid side. 16 wasn't very sweet to me. I had a tortured soul, but at least I outgrew it). 17 was “omg get me out of here” and 18 was…well, I don’t really remember much of it (thanks to my first year in a city still run by Napoleonic code). 19 was hurricane- survival, recovery and revival. At 20 I met many of my closest friends, my brothers, my lifelines of support and the people who changed me forever and all for the better. 21- for those of you paying attention- could have gone better for reasons still undisclosed. But at least I could drink in public, in any city I so desired. No longer an outlaw, I became officially legit.

Anyway, this is all leading up to New Years Resolutions and why I never make them. Because to me, December 31st 2008 is exactly the same as January 1st 2009. I’ll still be 22 and in my mind my new year started October 5th. And really, its an appropriate starting date. I began my job on October 1st which really started a whole new chapter of my life. I love my job, I look forward to going to work in the morning and I think about it often on the weekends. It is also nice to be validated as worth giving money to- I like things to come with a price tag because I like to quantify and even if I'm not worth very much right now, I am working my way up. I also have much less time to mope about missing New Orleans and have gotten out a lot more, meeting some new people, getting to know my coworkers, and reconnecting with old friends. I have been meeting a lot of people lately and I believe it has to do with my hair, which looks fierce in the winter (essentially in the winter I sweat a lot less, and ergo am more attractive to strangers as a friend or potential mate or subway seat companion, as compared to the summer when I am sweaty and have a Jew-fro). Anyway, I am extremely happy and everything is working out the way I had hoped and I really couldn't possibly be more content. 22 is pretty fucking awesome so far.

But, for the sake of being festive and hearing myself talk (or, type), here are my goals for 22:

1. Keep loving work and keep working there. Uh, I love my job, have I mentioned?
2. Move out. Soon.
3. Keep saving money, which will be impossible because of number 2.
4. Network more. I seriously should be going to a lot more networking events given my business but they are SO awkward.
5. Stop being awkward. At work, on dates, in line at the super market, in life.
6. Fall less. I would like to find my center of balance on the Wii Fit and use it while doing things such as walking or standing upright.
7. Go to New Orleans soooooon! I cant wait to complain about the heat, cuddle with Jose, visit old professors and friends, happy hour at the Boot, Bourbon and ending the night at F&Ms (if you want to know the truth, I miss F&M's most of all). I'm thinking March, but I would leave tomorrow if I could.
8. Go to Seattle to see Anna. Fuck I miss her so much I can't even write about.
9. Spend more time at museums and flea markets. Furnish my new apartment with knick-knacks and feel settled and like an adult.
10. Develop a taste for fine wines and liquors. Start drinking Jack straight up at bars, enabling me to save money (See: Number 3) and look like a fucking bad ass.
11. Be an active New Yorker. Find things to do, know about things like flea markets (see: Number 9) and concerts in the park and parties BEFORE hand, instead of hearing about them later.
12. Watch less Spongebob.
13. Join a club. Maybe AKPsi alumni? Volunteer work? Something!
14. Don't become jaded. Keep being excited and enthusiastic.
15. Keep kicking some serious ass.

Anyway, for those of you who might actually read this: I got the broadcast coverage :-). I am pretty amped about it because its my first time getting any broadcast coverage ever and its on a Fox news channel on the 11 O clock news, which I feel is pretty big league for the first time. As much as I hate that it was Fox who took my virginity, I cant help but be excited.

Tomorrow I work from home in the morning and then I am staying at Marys and going to ~da club~. I am really excited to see Colleen and have a good ol' Loyola New Years in New York. I am also excited to wear my fucking sexy outfit, which really showcases my boobs in all of my glory. I plan on being pretty obliterated. Expect drunk texts.

An aside: I realize this might be the first time I have talked about my boobs on here, but I love them. It goes beyond thinking they are the most flattering part of my body (which they are, duh) but I genuinely enjoy them, think they are fun and am often times impressed with myself when I look down during the day. Its not really a sexual thing, I just love them and I am glad they are attached to my body to bounce and rest my hands on at my leisure. In all likeliness I will talk about them again because I sincerely cannot get enough of them.


Anyway, what the fuck am I going on about? Happy New Years, digital world. Be safe, drink a lot, and send me a dirty text message. We'll both forget about it by morning.

Jewish Christmas

For years, I denied my heritage. Yes- I was Jewish when I wanted to be different. Yes- I would always know a correct spelling for Chanukah when asked. Yes- I would open the door for Elijah. Yes- I would expect eight wonderful gifts and latkes and maybe even play the Dreidel l if there was money or good chocolate involved.

But Fuck No Moses, I was not giving up Christmas.

In high school, come Christmas time, I’d find myself getting uncharacteristically excited. Uncharacteristic because 1. I am a Jew, through and through. And 2. I’m not really the festive type. But Christmas always got to me. I loved the lights, loved the Christmas specials and the merriment and the shopping and the time off school and buying gifts and receiving them and always figuring out who had who for Secret Santa and ruining Aimee’s entire year. When I worked at the daycare (which was nearly all of high school) we would start using Santa as a threat immediately after Thanksgiving. For those of you who have never worked in childcare or actually like your children, the threat goes something like this “If you do not sit down and listen I am telling Santa not to come and to give all of your toys to the good little children, you nasty little brat!” or, the shorter version “Santa is watching and he is pissed”. Sometimes, when feeling particularly malicious, I would whip out my cell phone and pretend to call him until I heard the magic words: “I’ll be good! I promise!”

Yeah right, like Santa would ever take a call from a Jew.

During those times, I had a best friend, a BFF if you will, who always invited me to her apartment for Christmas merriment with her family. I loved those Christmas days. So cozy and warm, wearing a Christmas themed outfit, assembling her little sister’s presents from Santa, chatting with her family, eating so much shrimp that the food coma came long before the main course was served and watching a Christmas Story over and over again. Good times had by all of Jesus’ children. And me.

As often happens, said BFF started dating a psycho and moved on from us. Or any friends at all. Once again, that’s an entire separate post that I most likely will never be writing.

Anyway, afterwards, Christmas sort of lost its luster. Its not that I blame her entirely. I went to college where Christmas break became the much longer (and ever so missed, incidentally) winter break. I stopped working at the daycare, so there was no pitter-patter of excitement from little germ carriers. The Christmas spirit passed me over entirely, the first two weeks of the season consumed entirely by finals and the next so exhausted and happy to be home that I rarely left my house.

So I started to assimilate back into Jewish culture. Well, sort of. I’m still a heathen because lets be honest, being Jewish is a LOT of work. But, if there is one time a year where being a good Jew means being lazier than everyone else- its Christmas time. So now I have embraced the loveliness that is a Jewish Christmas.

The first Christmas after I was ditched by my BFF (not bitter), my whole family (cousins and grandparents included) went on an all inclusive vacation to a Mexican resort, which is pretty much as Jewish as you can get for Christmas, seeing as it was like Christmas never happen. We got on a plane on the 22nd, came back on the 28th and skipped the whole mess while sunning ourselves on the beach, eating and drinking unlimited amounts and getting drunk at the resorts "club" (the highlight of the decor of said "club" was a paper-mache spaceship....but hey- the drinks were free so you can't beat it*). But given that we are comfortable Jews, but not extravagant ones, that was a one time deal (although, I mentioned it this Thanksgiving and wasn’t immediately shot down, so maybe we will have to launch an 2009 nagging campaign to rediscover our Jewish heritage among the margaritas and all-you-can-eat sushi buffets).

Since then, I have really come to like not celebrating Christmas. Dare-I-say, I celebrate not celebrating. All the pressure to buy the perfect gift, all the lines at the mall, all the holiday traveling and cooking and hanging up lights and decorating trees and wearing of Christmas sweaters. No thanks. I would much rather watch a movie (or maybe two) and then nom-nom on some Chinese food. Because I like the movies, and I LOVE Chinese food, and laying in bed and watching a Christmas Story sounds like the perfect amount of holiday cheer. I don’t ever even have to change out of my yoga pants.

Today my plans are:
Sleep until 1 pm: Check
Eat Chocolate Chip Pancakes: Check
Play Wii**
Finish My Book
Start Reading a New One
Cold Case Marathon!
Hit up some online sales to try and find a New Years Dress
Talk to friends to see what loot they got
Eat Chinese Food
Have Aimee and Shayna over for Wii** and wine
Be Merry, Motherfuckers



*I went on the Iberostar website to try to find a picture of said paper-mache spaceship, because it really needs to be seen by one and all. No picture, but they have resorts in Brazil, Greece, Morocco etc. 2009 nagging campaign is SO ON. I wonder if they are offering recession deals?

**OMG WE GOT A WII! SERIOUSLY, WHO NEEDS SANTA?

Bring it on reverse Scurvy: An Ode to EmergenC

When my roommate arrived my freshman year of college with a first aid shoe-box filled with winter and dorm-ailments necessities, I was sure I would be putting in for a switch. Here was this girl from Arizona, armed with an arsenal of cold and flu remedies ready for the rough New Orleans winters. Was she nuts? Mentally unbalanced perhaps? A hypochondriac who would spend the entire year in bed and Lysol everything I touched for fear of germs?

Well, I was wrong. About quite a few things. First of all, my roommate was not nuts. I would have sooner cut off my right hand than voluntarily switch roommates by the second day in. We ended up living together for the remainder of college (although we did move out of the germ-infested dorms, only to be confronted with the mold infested city post-K, but that’s besides the point) and she became one of my very good friends with whom I share countless memories.

An aside: Although, in my defense, she did spend a lot of the winter in bed however, not because of hypochondria but because I have never seen anyone with a weaker immune system and allergies to generic medication. One of those treasured memories I mentioned above was having my Catholic friends over for fake-Chanukah with a Velcro Menorah and then crawling into bed with her and spoon-feeding her soup…she was too weak to sit up. It was all very Little House on the Prairie, except as far as we know she wasn’t suffering from Cholera.

I was also wrong about the first-aid shoe box, that would not only become incredibly useful, but would follow us out of the dorms, survive Katrina (unlike my bed, furniture, clothing and all other worldly possessions) and sit on the same shelf in our new apartment until the very day I moved out. It was replenished and cared for and the beacon of cures for all ailments. Menstrual cramps? Let me check the Nike box for Midol. Headache? Just do it- Advil in the Nike box. Allergies flaring up? Doctor Nike is in.

The shoe-box, it turns out, was the portal for my obsession and love for EmergenC.

For those of you unfamiliar with EmergenC, they are delicious little packets filled with 1000% of the daily value of Vitamin C. EmergenC wards off any potential illness (you know, that “ugh, I’m definitely getting sick” feeling) and gives you a boost of energy and really just tastes delicious. I have often likened the taste to Tang (mostly because while spoon-feeding it to my ex-boyfriend who was also suffering from Cholera like-symptoms, he for no apparent reason shot up in bed and said, nay shouted, “TANGY!”, which was incidentally the most animated he had been since he had become a human host for multiple unknown viruses and decided my bed would be the perfect infirmary).

Another aside: Apparently, I spoon-feed a lot of people.

Coming from a family who never made me wear a coat, let alone pumped my body with enough vitamins to kill a small goldfish, I couldn’t immediately see the benefits of EmergenC. It seemed like a marketing scam (and in truth, still does, although now instead of the word “scam”, I’d be more inclined to replace it with the word “genius”) and couldn’t possibly work. But I have been reformed.

EmergenC has saved me from many a virus. I am certain last week I would have been sprawled out in bed miserable instead of drinking martinis with my coworkers had it not been for a nearly dangerous dose of EmergenC. As I was pouring another packet in the kitchen, my coworker pointed out that too much of anything is not good and my body can’t even absorb 1000% percent of the daily value of vitamin C, let alone 4000% (okay, so I had four packets. In case you missed it, it is delicious and tastes like TANG so don’t judge me), but I am 4000% positive that EmergenC warded off whatever illness was creeping around my bloodstream (is that where viruses creep?).

But just in case I was accidentally poisoning myself, I decided to look up the dangers of having too much vitamin C. I found the standard expected stuff of course- orange skin and pupils mostly. But I also found that having too much Vitamin C and then stopping can lead to Reverse Scurvy, where your body goes into Vitamin C withdrawals. Although I am sure Reverse Scurvy is devastating to those who suffer, I cannot be alone in thinking it would be cool to have a PIRATE disease. I mean, Pirates are undeniably cool. If I were to get that disease because my EmergenC consumption is out of control, then I would surely volunteer to create the Reverse Scurvy Awareness Ribbon, which would obviously feature skulls and orange-cross bones. Really, I would be a pioneer and a champion for the cause. I would speak at dinners and make people cry and then ride the Reverse Scurvy Awareness Float at the Thanksgiving Day parade. I would obviously also get a pet Parrot named Polly, and any place that did not allow Polly on their premises would be slapped with a discrimination lawsuit. Reverse scurvy patients should not have to suffer in silence.

So really, the only risk factor involved in drinking too much EmergenC is becoming a martyr for a very worthy cause. Which is worth it, because I am very self-serving and enjoy it immensely when others think I am great. And in the meantime, I get a tasty beverage and a burst of energy AND an immune system of steel. The way I see it, its win-win.

And I hope those of you who I have spoon-fed over the years will be by my side in my hour of need, ready with spoons and non-citrus nourishment.

Snow Days

used to be much more exciting. Now I am laying around hoping it goes away by tomorrow so I can get to work. I am grateful I have a job I love that much to not want to miss, but I sort of miss the SNOW!!!! excitement. My plans today include:
a. laundry
b. internet surfing
c. watching Forgetting Sarah Marshal (probably more than once) and
d.cuddling with puppy.


I miss the days when plans on snow days used to be:
a. yelling SNOW! OMG MOM SNOW! over and over again.
b. taking that crappy red plastic sled that we had forever (and probably was quite dangerous, given that it was literally just a sheet of plastic that could have easily have broken and dislodge into a million pieces, making children blind or choke or break a couple of legs at the very least) over to the Lamianos and going to that rather steep hill with everyone else in Columbia and taking turns going down.
c. getting my boot stuck in snowy mud while trying to prove how brave and adventerous I was to the neighbor boys and having to have someones dad rescue me (but not the boot...the boot is probably still in that pond) and carry me back to my house.
d. starting to build a snowman but running out of patience and just making snow angels instead
e. OR TUNNELS. my brother and I( and probably some neighbor kids) once built this AWESOME tunnel in our backyard during one particularly heinous blizzard and you could crawl through it for a couple of days afterwards still.

I still sort of want to go sledding, but I don't think we have a sled.

Anyway, this weekend was delightful. We saw In The Heights which is bascially a musical about living in Washington Heights. I was skeptical but it is SO GOOD. It was excellently acted, the staging was fantastic, the scenes were great, the costumes were accurate...everything was just great. I didnt want it to end. After, we went to a piano bar which is always fun. I love me a good piano bar (although nothing will ever compare to Pat Os). Then we headed over to 9th and stopped in a bar where we met some weird guys who wouldnt.go.away. and were clearly on something and asked us where we were from/what our names were/what we did ten times each. Then we met the hottest bus boy who accompanied us for the rest of the night. He was adorable and took us to a few pretty cool bars over on 9th. I drank too much but not enough to be sloppy. We stopped at Rays pizza at 4 am for a late night snack and then passed out at around 4:30. So much fun. PIctures to come when Becca posts them on facebook.

Saturday I begrudgingly woke up and started getting ready to go meet Mary for brunch. We went to this place the Sunburnt Cow over on C and 8th which I had heard great things about. It was excellent but it took forever to get there. Went on a nice little death march through the east village, which would have been nice if it was warmer and I wasnt risking my life with every step I took on the icy sidewalks. I met Mary there and we sat down immediately. It was unlimited alcohol brunch, which meant the mimosas just kept on coming (I dont think there was a point where my glass wasnt completely full). Food was delish, atmosphere was nice and the waiter would have only have been more enjoyable if he was naked. It was nice to catch up with Mary and I am so excited she lives here now. There will definitely be more Sunday brunches (although the Sunburnt Cow may have to wait until the Spring). Tia and Colleen will be here for New Years which is also very exciting! The next couple weeks should be good ones.

Thats all for now. The break from work will likely result in more posts, so be ready to hear from me.

Home Alone

Got the print coverage. Pre-Christmas goal has been completed. My supervisor asked me to start pitching broadcast which is exciting! New goal to be set after I actually start talking to producers. I love how I have never worked the same day twice. Everything is constantly changing, constantly challenging and constently evolving me.

The office party was last night, which was lots of fun. Seeing as I planned it, I was very happy that everything went well. I really enjoy the people I work with. Everyone is so much fun and I love the creative energy and the passion for what we do. Its refreshing to go to work and be around people who love what they do. I think thats really unique and I am happy that I found such a great place to work (or, I guess, that they picked me to join them). Darrien got me a social media book which I cant wait to tear into and the lychee martinis were delish.

Afterwards all the younger folks in the office went out for beers on this ridiculously crowded but appropriately priced bar over on 8th. I love that I work in such a young office and I really enjoy being around all my coworkers.

Tuesday night I went for drinks with Rachel, who I absolutely love seeing, and Tom and Abhi. Fun as usual, running around drunk in the financial district, "borrowing" drinks from the bar and eating old guys' left over pizza. She is a riot and I always have fun with her. Had a little bit too much to drink, but what else is new?

Anyway, from going out two nights in a row (gasp!) I was exhausted today and we had to do a little crisis management/damage control today and I was not prepared for such a busy day. The day flew by and I couldn't have been happier to get home to my empty house (everyone is at my brothers hockey game). I ate dinner in bed and took a shower and have yet to put on clothes. They will be here soon though, so I suppose I should probably get dressed.

Its supposed to snow tonight, which is mildly depressing. I hope I can make it to work tomorrow. I have some shizz to take care of and I would like to get the whole day in. Becky gets here tomorrow and we are going to see a play which I haven't done since I moved back. Spending the night in the city and then getting brunch with Mary on Saturday. I could live on nothing but brunch.

So things are moving right along. Looking forward to sleeping in a little next week and maybe taking some days out to wander. I really want to check out this photography exhibit at the Guggenheim and it will be nice having some leisure time to do so. Also, for being such a good little saver, I am going to hit up some post holidays sales. Maybe find a good new years dress and some party shoes. Maybe look at a few apartments.

Speaking of New Years, figuring out what to do is exhuasting. We're thinking about Greenhouse. Who knows where we will end up. I just want to wear a fancy dress.

Im getting more into blogging. And twitter. I feel so social media saavy.

Going to go enjoy my Abita Strawberry Ale and cuddle with my dog.

Great Weekend

Winter has finally hit New York full force. "ugh" is all I have to say about that. Although, in an interesting twist of fate, it did snow in New Orleans this week and not in New York. What are the odds? Its still unbearably cold outside though. The kind of cold that hurts your skin and never goes away, even when you burrow under three blankets after a long day. Once again, ugh. Wake me up in April.


Work this week was work. Nothing much to report. Things are busy and the days are flying by, but I still love working there. I am really excited to kick off our new client's program in January. I think its going to be really fun program and really interesting outreach. For right now, its a lot of list making and dotting Is and crossing Ts. I am also continuing media outreach for the client I work for the most, and I am determined to secure print placement before the holidays. Online is nice, but I want the hardcopy coverage. I am speaking with a few interested editors so I think I can make it happen.

Yesterday was a wonderful New York Saturday. Fred is in town, so we met for brunch at Friend of a Farmer, over on Irving and right by work. It was delish. Best brunch I've had in a while and in a really cute atmosphere. I felt like I was in a bed and breakfast in New Hampshire (or what I imagine NH to look like, since I've never been and never really plan on going...) We caught up and chatted about NOLA and boys and the good old days and movie screenings of course. We had a cute waiter who wore appropriately tight pants and I learned what french coffee press was. Apparently, I'm coffee-sheltered.


Afterwards, we met Abby and her roommates uptown, who were right in the middle of Santacon. Santacon is basically hundreds of drunk people dressed as Santa, swarming in on New York landmarks. We followed them from the Post Office to Grand Central and it was honestly one of the coolest things Ive ever see in NY. Its nice to see new Yorkers not take themselves so seriously. Also, interestingly enough, for some reason many of the guys were incredibly sexy. We deduced that Santa suits must make guys more attractive, which must mean something dark and twisty and Freudian.


I left and went down to the Strand to browse and buy Karen's secret Santa present for work. It was uncomfortably crowded, so I got in and out. Decided to walk down to the LES and find a coffee place to read in until Shayna called. I settled on a place on 9th and A, although the name escapes me right now. I am reading "Moose: A Memoir of Fat Camp" by Stephanie Klein, which is a dangerous book to read in public because it actually makes me laugh out loud.

Shayna called and I walked over to W4 to meet her for shopping/coffee/catching up. We ended up just walking and talking our way down to little Italy and sat down in Ferrera for coffee with Baileys and Italian pastries.

I left around 6:30 to meet Asher uptown for dinner at this Italian place on 58th and 2nd. The place was great, reaffirming my faith in Yelp.com.We chatted and ate and I had a delicious glass of Sangria and he fixed my iphone to make it more energy efficient and showed me all the cool games on his that I am clearly missing out on. He is a cutie, which is all I'm going to say about that for now. :-D

I got home around 11:30, so fucking cold I bribed my dog into cuddling with me and we were both too tired to move. I got out the extra blankets and got into bed, talked to Asher for a little while and then passed out. I woke up unfortunately early this morning, which is a bummer. I still feel a little sick, congested and just winter-like so I will probably stay in bed all day, paint my nails, watch some terrible television and just rest.

I was supposed to take my brother to practice parallel parking again, but mom took him instead. He goes for his drivers test in a week from Monday. pretty weird. We're both getting kind of old.

Next week is drinks with Rachel on Tuesday to catch up on the AIM gossip, the office Christmas party on Wednesday night, Becky gets into town on Friday and we are going to hit up a show on Broadway and then I will FINALLY get to see Mary on Saturday.

I think I am going public with this blog via shameless self promotion. I hope I dont regret it. If you are reading this holler from the Northeast. I am also going to make a concerted effort to start taking my own pictures instead of yoinking them off google.

Winter makes me kind-of lonely and I am really starting to miss everyone a lot. Especially Jose who cant seem to call me at a time that works for both of us. Today wasnt the best day. I am looking forward to going to work tomorrow so I dont have to think anymore.

Being Thankful...Sort Of

Got home from a family filled weekend in Maryland. Another part of growing up that is weird is enjoying being around family. We had a great time, both with mom and dad's side. Saw my cousins who I havent seen in quite some time, met the new one who is too cute for words, ate A LOT, sat around at relatives houses, bars, friends houses, restaraunts etc.

Hung around the Lamiano house every night after designated family time, which is really just like going home again. Despite all the changes they have made to the house (and we have made in our lives) over the course of the last few years, the basement still looks exactly the same. It makes me feel 10 to be down there again and I like the way that feels. Nothing really makes me feel very nostalgic anymore so I cling to the things that inspire those feelings in me.

Came back this afternoon and finished Wally Lambs new book "The Hour I First Believed". It has made me very contemplative and I had planned on blogging about it, but I cant quite organize my thoughts yet. Lamb uses beautiful representation and really powerful ideaologies in his work, but he never comes across as overbearing or pretentious. He takes sophisticated thoughts and turns them around for the average reader. He is definitely worth the read, both this new one and his last two novels "I Know this Much is True" and "Shes Come Undone". Plus, this particular story was inspired by a trip to New Orleans and the idea was hatched in St. Louis Cathedral which makes it infinitely better in my mind, although the book was not about New Orleans. (It was so good that i literally devoured every page, including the acknowledgments at the end and the source list).

After, I started window shopping apartments on Craigslist and started having a mini panic attack so I stopped. I am ready to move but I wish that someone would just pick a place and a roommate for me and then magically transport all my furniture there. Is that really too much to ask? The serious looking starts after the new year. Ugh.

Anyway, I am thankful that I had such a great thanksgiving with such an amazing family. And that my family isn't as fucked up as Caleum Quirk. That I wasnt in India or at a Wal*Mart on Long Island (or anywhere else on Long Island...). Thankful that I can work during the recession and actually enjoy my job. Thankful for homemade appletinis and solo-wine nights. Thankful that 2009 is an exciting year rather than 2008 (which was really just scary and sad when it comes right down to it). I am Thankful that Bring it On is on TV right now and that being a semi-adult means that staying in on a Saturday night is okay. I am thankful for my friends but NOT thankful of all the distance between some of us. I am, however, thankful www.airfarewatchdog.com so maybe one of these days I can actually get around to visiting them. I am thankful for more than three digits in my bank account and proud of myself for making it that way. Thankful that my adult sensibilities have started to kick in, but that I still mostly feel like a kid.

Symptom #342 of being a Semi-Adult

When I spend some money on marked-down designer shwag, I start to feel guilty afterwards.

But only a "semi" adult because Mamma-bear agreed to make the purchases my early Chanukah presents.

But still, the guilt is some sign of growth, right?

It wasn't even that much money. Less than my monthly train pass (which isnt saying much, because the amount I pay to commute is a crime).

i still feel guilty. And also guilty because, (not-so) secretly- I dont have a burning desire to move out of my house anytime soon. I will, because I know theres a timestamp before I turn into a semi-loser. But damn, if I could live home forever, I probably would.

The Best Laid Plans...

I am infuriated by Britney's comeback.

Not because I don't love to bump up the volume and jam out while I am getting ready in the evening to go out. And not because I really personally think her music gets better with age. And not because her mental breakdown has been the source of many an early morning gossip reading sesh, followed by a philosophical "why britney? what went wrong?" discussion over drinks with friends.

I am infuriated because it is bad public relations.

Since the beginning of Britney's breakdown, I have been meticulously devising her comeback. Because lets face it-- we knew she was going under a long time ago but people just cant get enough of her. The public's desire for her; whether as a pop hero, a nostalgic afterthought or paparrazzi podder is insatiable. Even people who don't want to admit it want a piece of her (heh). Even my father, republican-economist-Fox-news extraordinaire knows whats happening in the life of B. Spears (albeit peripherally, but still).

During the depths of her breakdown- while she was shaving her head in a Super Cuts and walking barefoot into gas stations, crashing her cars and losing her sons and half of her money- I always had faith in the star power of B Spears. Every time she burried herself I dug deeper with my proverbial shovel, adding layers to my comeback plan that I would eventually mail off and make my millions off of (I never did get around to typing it all up until now...perhaps its my own fault).

Here's how this should have gone down: Britney gets all the crazy out of her system. Maybe one last shebang to make it count (naked in public? a porn tape perhaps? a baby from an unnamed daddy? the possibilities are endless really). Slowly she starts to fizzle out of the public eye. Maybe a picture every now and then of her supervised visits with the two trainwrecks-in-waiting. Then nothing. NOTHING for a year, maybe two. Long enough for the public to speculate what happened but long enough to heal the emotional wounds those of us who have been defending her have had to endure (i mean-- who's heart WASN'T broken after the infamous VMA performance?).

Then the comeback. First the promo starts for the interview. "Catch America's Fallen Pop Princess On 20/20 This Friday" . Picture B Spears- older, wiser, completely in shape, with all her natural hair in a white skirt-suit sitting across from Barbara Walters. She has worked with a GOOD pr team, who have rid her of that awful north Louisiana accent. She laughs, she cries, she hits her talking points flawlessly and calls her breakdown the "darkest years of her life". She talks about secret treatments. Working with the Dali Lama. Traveling on a spiritual journey to find her soul. Re-establishing her relationship with her son. We laugh, we cry. Slowly, she starts making a media comeback. Pictures of her with her kids at PTA meetings, Britney in the background at charity events, at the grocery store. A few pictures now and again in US Weekly. A couple of dazzling red carpet appearances and BAM her album drops. Older, wiser with a Madonna feel to it- reinvented, but still the same old Britney we crave.

Thats how it should have gone. Instead, they are fast tracking her to get the few decent years she has left in her out. No one is thinking about longevity here, only about the quick and dirty. Drop an album, buy her an acrylic wig and throw her on MTV in just a few short months? Has it even been a year since the end of Britney's breakdown?

I dont know about you, but it takes me a while to adjust from major life changes. It has taken me more time to get over the death of a goldfish. And while I have not had a major Britney-sized breakdown (...yet...) I can only assume that it would not be solved in a matter of months. With no rehab or intensive therapy. No one is thinking about reputation management or creating a brand. They are simultaneously murdering Britney Spears and Britney Spears (TM) just to make a quick buck. While my million dollar plan, the basis of my empire is going to waste.

With all that said, I am still going to watch the manufactured comeback of Britney. I'm just going to be mad about it the whole time.

This week was a crazy week. Work is really busy, which is great, but it makes me exhausted! I came home on Friday night and passed out at 9:30. Aren't these supposed to be the years I am living it up?  Last night we played rock band and drank wine at Melissa's, which was nice and also low-key. I don't know how I partied as hard as I did in New Orleans. It honestly feels like another life sometimes. 

On Tuesday I had dinner and drinks with Diano, which was marvelous. It is really comforting to be around people who I went to Loyola with. I miss the small sense of community that we had at Loyola. Nothing in the city is like that and it's really hard to be alone sometimes. At least at Loyola, you were never really alone. I can see why people always say NY is a hard city to live in (although I still maintain that it has nothing on D.C.....if I survived the district I feel like I can pretty much live anywhere).  Another  Loyola friend is moving here next week, which will be great as well. 

Thanksgiving is this week, which is unbelievable because I feel like its still summer. Graduating college is still so surreal. I mostly just feel like its a really long summer vacation. When I think about how long it has been since I really saw my friends and Iggy and the streetcar and my apartment it doesn't seem real. The other week Jose mentioned it had been six months since he left here and I started to tear up, mostly because I was in shock that it had actually been that long. Time is moving way too fast, but in other ways not fast enough. 

Anyway, doing to D.C. for Thanksgiving, like always. I am excited to see everyone, especially my new baby cousin. It will also be nice to break up my routine a little bit. 

Speaking of routine, I pretty much haven't moved from my bed all day because there is an "I Love Lucy" marathon on TV Land. I kind of have a girl-crush on Lucille Ball. She was such a dynamo, a force to be reckoned with. Although it may not be the most enlightened of shows (see: Ricky spanking Lucy when she does something wrong, and not in the "I've been a naughty girl" sort of way), she really paved her own way in Hollywood with her wit and business sense. Also, this show is timeless and still pretty much hilarious. Its the cherry on top of my perfect lazy Sunday (heh, get it? I am also hilarious and timeless).

This weather does not agree with me and I personally think anyone who has ever complained about New Orleans humidity should wait for the New York  train at 7 am in mid-November. Its not only the cold, its the whole winter she-bang. Its dark at 4:30. Being outside is miserable. Don't even get me started on snow. Winter also makes me much more contemplative and ready to hibernate, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. 

I'm going to try to be a more dedicated and interesting blogger, but every time I sit down to write something truly contemplative I end up censoring myself and forgetting about it. 

Anyway, I'm leaving you with this gem from Halloween. Which is already way too long ago, but lets not get going on that again. 

First Post!

Well Hi!

My first post and I'm already getting writers block. This is harder than it looks. A little bit about me? Well first of all, I'm on the right in that picture- in the red necklace. 

I am a recent college graduate, living on the outskirts of the biggest city in the world and working everyday right in the heart of it all. I am in public relations, but I probably won't talk about that much for a few reasons; 1. uhhh, I already talk about it/live it/breathe it for 40+ hours a week and 2. respect for my agency/clients. But, its important because I love what I do. And, if you've ever met anyone in public relations, you know we see the world much differently than everyone else. 

My job is also important because it is what inspired me to start this blog. I look at social media everyday and I admire the people who can write about their lives so eloquently and effortlessly and I guess I just wanted to be a part of it all. My life may not be the most interesting, but I'm at a confusing point in my life I think a lot of people can relate to. Sometimes I feel like an adult, with bills and responsibilities and clients and emails and deadlines. And other times, I feel like a kid in business clothes. And did I mention I feel both of these things at the same time, every single day? This growing up stuff has been a breeze until now. 

The other important stuff? Well, I went to school in New Orleans, which could be a blog in it's own right but I think that would just make me miss it even more. Yes- I was there during Katrina. Yes- I went back. No- I did not have to canoe to class. Because I went so far away for school my friends are scattered all over the nation and I plan on traveling to visit them all, someday. Until then, I will probably forlornly mention them and my city quite often. 

Like a lot of recent college grads- I moved back in with my parents which is an adventure in itself. I enjoy my family but I miss having my own space. Im planning on moving back out shortly after the new year. I read as often and everything that I can and I will most likely post about interesting things I've read, because I have no one else to talk about them with. I'll try to keep the dork talk to a minimum, but I'm not making any promises. 

This is dangerously close to sounding like some sort of dating add, so I think we'll cut it off here.