An Inspirational Interlude

First of all, I have to say that since I have been facebooking/twittering about my brand new lower east side apartment, no less than three people* have asked me when I am going to blog about it. Which is AWESOME and I can’t tell you how much I love you all for caring about me, but more importantly, caring about my blog that much. Seriously, I love you all.

But, this post is not about my new apartment, mainly because I want to do an “OMG IM IN A NEW APARTMENT” post once I am actually in there and have photographic evidence and wireless internet and nothing to do on a Tuesday night because I will get home at 6:30 instead of 8:30.

No, instead this post is about an important life lesson I was reminded of this weekend and have been waiting to impart onto my legions of (seven) loyal readers.

When I was looking for a job this summer, one of my mentors set up a meeting with the VP of Corp Comm at a pretty big agency here in the city which was super intimidating. When I went in and told him what I felt were my main barriers to getting hired (no New York city experience, no New York city network and the economy). And he affirmed my fears and basically said “yeah, that’s going to make it a lot harder” which sent me into a frenzied panic attack I have only recently recovered from. But, he also said to apply everywhere and to see where I ended up, even if it wasn’t the exact right position. That as long as you got in, worked hard, did good well that the rest would fall into place. You can prove yourself and excel in any position, as long as you remain true to your work ethics and make your position your own.

It was excellent advice and was really a huge factor in my decision to take the job I currently have. I sort of lost sight of the wisdom for a while until this weekend, when inspiration hit me on 7th avenue.

It was Saturday and I came into the city to sign my lease. It was beautiful outside- a little chilly but still so sunny and pleasant. As I walked to Chelsea to meet my future roommate at work (she’s awesome, btw- but that’s for later) I walked by this hard working young (old?) man:




Yes, this man is dressed in a cheese costume. Handing out flyers for a pizza place, trying to get people to come in. What struck me odd about this was two things:
A. The cheese costume was so half-assedly put together and so ridiculous looking that it added absolutely no value to what he was peddling- to adults by the way, not kids. It wasn’t comical, it wasn’t over the top, it was almost as if I it was just a regular guy and I had imagined the cheese costume in some sort of weird endorphin induced hallucination.

B. He did NOT look pissed off about this. In fact, disgruntled flyer givers everywhere could take a lesson from this man and his blasé attitude to his Swiss costume. And, based on the fact that he’s wearing the costume to begin with, you have to assume that his managers are dicks and mildly oppressive, but he did not seem bothered at all.

When I went to sign the lease and walked back a few hours later, he was STILL there. Not-pissed-off-about-being-in-a-cheese-costume man, handing out flyers on 7th Avenue. And I couldn’t help but wonder where he was going in life and admire how hard he was working to get there.



*Okay, one I sort of forced into asking by merely suggesting that he may want to see a write up of the story instead of listening to me laboriously discuss all the details. And the other said it sort of sarcastically, like “oh, are you going to blog about it?” Whatever…still counts.

An HR memo to Spring

Dear Spring,

I know its your first day on the job and everything, and believe me, I sympathize. My first week on the job I created a media list so large I couldn’t even send it through email. Sometimes, you get a little overeager when you are trying to impress and things don’t always turn out the way you wanted. I totally get it.

However, if you don’t hear a little criticism then you’ll never learn, right? So lets try to keep the snow away, especially on your first day. Maybe you haven’t had the chance to read the manual yet, but snow on the first day of spring is really soul-sucker. It really just makes people want to drown some small animals and I don’t want to be fielding calls from PETA all day because the new guy screwed up. You’re not the only one with a job to do.

But like I said, everyone is allowed a few mistakes at the beginning. Just make sure to get your shit together by April 1, because I am moving and not taking any winter clothes with me. That’s how much faith I am putting in you, Spring. Don’t let me down.

As always, please don’t hesitate to contact me or your supervisors (God) with any questions. We’re really excited to have you on board.

Best,

The Northeast United States Human Resources Department


P.S. I have an overactive imagination and there are 3 out of 12 people in my office today. I may update again. Who knows where this day will go?

P.P.S. I may have found an apartment (I went the really small, great area route)! Details to come.

The Apartment Hunting Chronicles Episode Two: I Officially Hate Everybody

Its not so much that apartment hunting makes me want to kick small puppies, its more the liars. LIARS make me want to kick puppies and if you find yours suddenly bruised, I am not liable for any emotional or physical damages.

In episode one, we discussed the ads. The craigslist ads for apartments. Craig and his silly bitch list for liars. And, for reasons still undisclosed, that’s pretty much as far as I got the first time around. This time though, its serious.

The problem with New York, that I believe is more so exaggerated than anywhere else, (although DC may come in at a close second) is that unless you are a grillionaire playboy, theres no such thing as a good apartment in a good area. If you’re lucky (for those of you paying attention- I’m not), an average person can mayyyyyybe find an okay apartment in an okay area. But usually, the way it works is you can move into shitty, closet-like amenities in a great area or an amazing fantastic apartment across the street from the projects (not an exaggeration, the forerunner on my list right now is literally across the street from state subsidized projects- but the apartment is beautiful).

So really, I guess its not a huge shock that all the legitimate ads are a little exaggerated. And, it might not be really lying, but more the kind of lying that you start to believe because you have to for your own sanity. Lies such as, “its not a bad area, it just has a lot of local color!” orrrr “my exboyfriend is clearly only dating her because she is exactly like me, how pathetic” orrr “at the end of the day, Hurricane Katrina was a great learning experience”. You know, the kind of shit that gets you through the night.

When all is said and done however, I’d like a little heads up before hitting the worst streets of NYC, checking directions on my Iphone and toting a designer bag. All of the apartments I am looking at are sort of on the border of good and evil, and it would be nice to get a “don’t come alone after dark” orrrr a “btw, when I say its close to the train station, I mean it’s a fifteen minute uphill walk through Spanish Harlem”. I’ll concede that might be too much to ask for, seeing as I’ve lived in proximity to NYC nearly all of my life and should know better. Fine.

The shit that really pisses me off is when I get to the top of the hill and finally meet the person, suddenly everything changes. The rent listed on the ad was for the first month only- after that it increases by $200. The only utility included is water (WTF people, EVERY APARTMENT includes water in their rent). The room includes a closet- its just in the hall on the other side of the apartment. The room is furnished- with a 15 year old futon on a metal frame. The 20 year old female who will be showing the place? Whoops, I meant 35 year old man. What a crazy typo. Or the people who just don’t show up. FUCK YOU PEOPLE WHO DON’T SHOW UP. I could be at home watching spongebob instead of standing on a street corner in Bushwick, watching cars with tinted windows roll slooooowly by me.

Its all sort of comical I guess, unless its you dragging your sorry ass up to these great apts in terrible areas after a lonnnnnnng day at work, expecting to meet a nice musician named Anne (25, from long island) and instead its her 40 year old LIVE-IN boyfriend holding their pet ferret (ew) showing you a room that is smaller than my creepy, dead-child storing closet in my apt in New Orleans (Note to reader: WE didn’t store the dead children, we’re just pretty sure that’s the only thing it could have possibly been used for prior to our moving in).

So, moral of the story is, never grow up. If you do grow up- live at home forever or kill yourself before you have to move out. Or hire a broker to do your dirty work for you (please note, this requires making much more money than I make). Or don’t ever move to NY. Or, make friends who will move with you instead of forcing yourself to make awkward small talk with a 40 year old holding a ferret who you KNOW you will never ever move in with.

And the sad part? I am really keeping my fingers crossed for that place across from the projects? Other than the whole “dangerous, impoverished neighbors” thing, it’s a great place with a really sweet roommate.

The sadder part? I have FOUR more appointments tonight. Oy vey.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

I am moving.

To new York

Probably Brooklyn. Everything is happening sort of fast and I may not be 100% (or well, 50%) ready. But I am doing it. I am quite sick of living my life from the Jersey sidelines and after receiving confirmation from work that they love me as much as I love them, the time feels right. I feel more secure, more mature and more ready to take this next big step in my life.



(Most of you know why it was put on hold, so there’s no need to rehash)



I would be lying if I were to say that I wasn’t scared, because I am. More scared than I thought I would be. Especially because, uhm hi. Living far from home isn’t exactly a new thing. When I moved away the first time, I basically picked a place that couldn’t have been more opposite than the community I called home (and really- pretty much opposite from every other city that everyone else calls home. Suckers). I dived in headfirst to the craziest and most rewarding experience of my life so far- which was living in New Orleans. Everything about it was new and scary and different and I don’t even remember feeling fear. Just excitement.



I have to take a moment here to tell my mom’s favorite story about me. (If she ever finds the link to this blog and reads such story, she will likely pee herself for seeing it in print. I have heard it more times than I care to recall and I am channeling her as I am writing it). I was a fierce independent spirit as a kid, so much so that I robbed my mother of many precious moments and milestones of parenthood. When I say “as a kid”, I am referring to the period of birth until uhhhh now. I went to a big elementary school of about 1,500 kids and I am the oldest child in my family. On the first day of kindergarten, my mother (like all the other mothers) parked the car, walked me into school and waited with me on the little kindergarten line until we went into class. On the second day of kindergarten, I (rather brightly) observed the other parents dropping their older children off in front of the school where they walked in by themselves.



Adorable, curious little me: “Mom, why are you parking your car when the other parents are just driving up to the front of the school?”

Mom, sharing a precious moment with her daughter: “Well. Those are the older kids so they don’t need their mommies to walk them in. One day, when you’re ready, I’ll drop you off there too”

Tenacious, independent, fearless little me: “Oh. I’m ready now. You can just drop me off”



And she did. And I got my 5 year old little butt out of the car and marched my jellies right into the school of 1,500 kids. And I never looked back.



(Side note: I told that story to a former boyfriend and he looked at me, rolled his eyes and said “I’m not surprised. you should tell that to guys as a warning before they start to date you”. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a compliment.)



And now? Maybe its my old age catching up to me. Or maybe it’s the doom and gloom, apocalyptic-type hype around the recession. Maybe because it isn’t happening exactly how I pictured it. Maybe its because I don’t really know as many people as I thought and don’t really understand how to go about meeting people outside of work as an adult. Maybe its because I am actually paying for my own rent (shut up). Whatever my deal is, I am really freaking nervous about making this leap.



But also- EXCITED. I am looking at apartments this weekend and if all goes as according to plan (which, lets be real, when does it ever?) I’ll be official on April 1. A real person. A grown up.



Well….sort of. It’s a step in the right direction at least.



Up next?

Learning how to cook

Making friends (anyone in NYC wanna holler at your girl? I’m really a lot of fun and not NEARLY as crazy as this blog may lead you to believe.)

Learning how to be frugal, possibly by default (when I first wrote that, I wrote “buy” default. This will be SO much harder than I am picturing)

GO TO NEW ORLEANS APRIL 15th!! (WHAT WHAT)

Enjoying summer, spend as much time as possible and wear sunglasses 24.7



So uh, wish me luck? Send me money? Hang out with me? Move here?



Mazel tov?