Morning News According to Me

There are a few scenarios in which I really don't appreciate living alone. Knowing a hurricane is coming in a very short while is one of them. It's not that I'm nervous...I'm just a little confused. What exactly does one do during a hurricane? Should I be stocking my fridge? Loading up on arts and crafts to entertain me for an unpredictable amount of hours? Or should I be nervous? Hurricanes fall under the staggering category of 'things not found in the Iowa', and this Midwestern girl isn't quite sure what to do. Just to be on the safe side, the coffee, nail polish, trashy magazine, and wine selections will be fully stocked. I'm assuming my yoga class will be canceled, and this makes me annoyed with the whole hurricane business before it even begins.

Speaking of weather - apparently many people in New York felt the after effects of an earthquake in Virginia earlier this week. I was not one of them, and I have earthquake envy. I did feel one while I was in Greece, so the envious feelings aren't as strong as they may have been, but it sounds like I missed out on some thrills - unless New Yorkers are being their dramatic selves when it comes to caution with nature, which is a definite possibility. Try driving here in a snow storm, and plan on the other drivers being more of a risk than the weather itself.

In other news, Derek Jeter is allegedly single again - reading this over my morning coffee made the cup(s) that much more fulfilling. I quit one of my two bar jobs, hoping to clear some space in the schedule for that little thing we like to call school. I have developed a mild addiction to hummus, I'm attempting a vegetarian diet again (more on this later), and falling asleep to Jim Brickman seems to be the cure to any jet lag hangover. Along with a questionable dosage of Nyquil. Only four short blocks away, my new Starbucks has a fabulous seating area with comfy couches, along with a lesbian barista that appreciates the ta-tas and controls my drink order ($), promoting it to be my new study space for the year. I may finally attempt to go jean shopping today, which has not gotten any easier since the sixth grade, and obviously you'll hear about my traumatic experiences shortly after. Another thing you'll hear about - the incredibly enlightening conversation I had about relationships with a complete stranger while I was bartending. As illegitimate as it sounds, he may have said exactly what I needed to hear to finally make me feel at peace with being single.

Enough with my news caps, I need to prepare for this hurricane the only way I know how to. My stops today include the mall, the liquor store, Starbucks, and the gym. After that, I'll be ready for any mother nature predicament that New York will come up with next.

Making Space for No Roommates

Reason #74 of why I should really consider getting a boyfriend - I don't know what the hell is going on with my window AC. I've had a consultation with my father over the phone, but it really didn't do much except encourage me to re-position the unit in a way that prompted a phone call from my landlord, concerned it was going to fall onto the sidewalk two stories below. It sounds like water is dripping in the inside, and it randomly spits out mist along with the cool air coming from the vent. I'm just going to consider it an indoor sprinkler cooling system. It's actually quite convenient after getting in from a long, sweaty run.

Let's talk organization. And I'll give you a glimpse of this monstrosity in my window. To clear up any doubts that I may not be living in as little of a shoebox as I claim, or my dramatic side is coming out when I describe my room - visual evidence. I do, in fact, live in an adorable, cozy, yet suffocating shoebox.

It's hard to imagine what is in this room originally started out as a pile small enough to fit into little Lola to make the drive to New York. I remember a talk I had with my Aunt Lynn about living in New York, and a piece of advice she gave was "Don't have too much stuff, because you're going to be moving around a lot". I should have taken this more seriously.

Now that I'm getting ready to pack Lola up for another trip, thank god only 20 miles away this time, I've started to sort through my belongings. I never realized how much shit I've accumulated over the last year living in this apartment until I forced myself to sit there and justify whether it was worth the move. The random objects have been easy to sort, but the clothes...an on going process. I have literally been sorting over the past month, and there are still cuts to make. The standing clothing rack will not be going into my new apartment, so some things are going to have to go.

You know the rule, "If you haven't worn it in a year, get rid of it"? Well, that rule sucks. My biggest fear: there's a chill in the air this coming autumn, and I go to my closet thinking, "I have the perfect apple green cardigan to go with this navy blue chiffon blouse I'm wearing". I begin shifting through my hangers, more and more desperately as the seconds creep by, until my heart drops as I remember I gave away that perfect cardigan three months before, simply because I hadn't worn it in a year. No. There is no year rule with me. Instead, if I come across a piece I haven't worn in a while, I assess why that is. If it's an extreme style that probably won't come back around for another decade or four, I get rid of it. If it's a classic piece that I love, but simply haven't coordinated into an outfit for a while, such as my apple green cardigan, I keep it.
I'm all for de-cluttering and organization, but my wardrobe is the one area I let cramp my shoebox room style. In order to create more room in my new space, folding more of my tops is going to be mandatory. Thanks to my experience working at Express, I have this skill down to a science, but for those of you that still have mommy do the folding - one of my roommates is here to lend a hand.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZL42UQIjBWg

When I do decide to let something go, I always always donate. Give to a friend, local charity, thrift shop - there are numerous opportunities to donate clothing, so there really is no excuse to actually throw away something you're getting rid of. It not only goes to a great cause, but it helps ease the heartache a little. I hate to let go of my lace turquoise blouse, but knowing someone will appreciate it almost as much as I did makes it a little easier. If that doesn't work, think of the the ways you can fill the new space you are creating. I may not be able to replace my new clothing voids with more clothes, but I will be moving into an apartment with no roommates in sight, and that fact alone is worth letting go of that turquoise blouse.

The Comfort of Date Night

My Asian roommates never cease to amaze me, but this time their ability to disgust hit an all time low. Still groggy and blurry eyed from my beauty sleep, I stumbled into the kitchen to make my coffee, as I do every morning. Along with mountains of curry, white rice, and other freakish looking edibles consuming the kitchen, was an extra little surprise. They left me none other than a dead fish - laying right. in front. of my coffee pot. I have never really understood the concept of "being this close to throwing up" until I lived with these roommates. I was "this close" to throwing up. I don't really need to explain the fact that I don't appreciate being stared at by any form of animal while making my morning coffee - just know that I am literally counting the days until I move out of China town. 21.

I am more than ready to live sans nasty roommates, and though I've wanted to live alone for a while now, there are some things I miss about living with people...people that I love, and have similar cultural habits to my own. It's been so long since I've actually lived in my parents' home, but I still miss the small comforts of living with my family. It wasn't even always about talking - just knowing they were there. I loved Sunday mornings when my dad and I timed breakfast at the same time - silently skimming the paper and draining the coffee pot together. There was something so calming about falling asleep for an afternoon nap on the living room couch, with the muffled sounds of my mom cooking dinner coming from the kitchen. And there was nothing that my siblings most likely secretly loathed more than me crawling into their laps while they were trying to relax, or having to publicly hold my hand or escort me by the arm as if I was some sort of royalty. Which I should be. But what they don't realize is that those small comforts meant the most to me. And they still do. Just the presence of a loved one is a powerful thing. I indulge in every one of these scenarios each time I visit home.

Knowing I am not going to have those moments here, I have learned to create new comforts for myself. When you start a life over a thousand miles from home, you cannot be afraid to do things on your own. It may initially seem awkward and uncomfortable, but you'll find yourself able to appreciate a different kind of comfort - the comfort of being secure by yourself. For example, I am at Panera Bread right now for dinner...obviously alone, or I would be one rude dinner date blogging away as I ate. I used to feel sorry for the people I saw eating alone, assuming they would never voluntarily be in the situation. Depending on the age box, I would mentally categorize them as either a loner with no friends, a crazy cat lady/bird man (childhood neighbor experience), or the last one living in their social group. I don't think I fall into either of the assumed categories, confirming my new found belief that there is no shame in doing things on your own, such as eating out.

I could have called someone to come out with me tonight. Or I could have stayed in and made dinner in my repulsive Asian invaded kitchen. But I chose to go out to eat by myself, because there's something relaxing about sitting next to this picture window, surrounded by my eclectic company, with a soothing jazz saxophone filling in the conversation lulls. Nothing will ever be able to replace family dinners at home, which is by far my favorite comfort when I'm there, but I've found a new way to find my little moments of comfort in New York.  

My bad ass date and myself

 So don't be afraid to go out on a date with yourself.  Browse the shelves of a local book store, take a walk around the neighborhood, or go out for a coffee. It's not only a great mental break from every day life, but you may discover to enjoy something you've never considered before. And once you get over the weird feeling of being alone, you may find spending time with yourself is not as lonely as it sounds.

Not Funny Anymore

Finding balance would be the perfect way to describe what I'm attempting to do today. The last few days have been crazy, and getting my life in order is now my main priority. My lush self indulged a little too much this weekend, first in Brooklyn for a friends' birthday, and then in the city, celebrating gay pride day for the rest of the weekend. So my first healthy choice on this dreaded Monday - detox. No wine or gin for me this week. I need to show my liver a little love and give it a break.

Though the weekend was packed, there is one occurrence that stands out as a highlight. I can finally rest assured that I will not be homeless in one short month, because my future apartment has been found.
Before I go on to the bright future, I must give you a brief summary of my current situation, just so you realize I'm not exaggerating when I claim I've "roughed it" for a year. I knew the living situation wouldn't be perfect, but beggars can't be choosers, and I found a place with the right price tag. Sharing a kitchen and a bathroom, I moved in with three other students, all guys. My father was thrilled. Even though I found out quickly I had assumed the role of the maid, I didn't mind, because we all stayed out of each others' way for the most part. Not realizing I was about to create a whole other issue, I eventually had one of my roommates evicted for smoking pot. A Chinese ESL student moved into his room, and it all went downhill from there. Not only did her friends follow suit, filling up the other two rooms, but their little lovers came with, making it difficult to tell you exactly how many roommates I have. On top of playing maid to approximately 3-5 Asian roommates (who impossibly shed more hair than my mane), the smell of pot has been replaced with the smell of Asian cuisine (almost equally as unpleasant). I am constantly overwhelmed by jabbering and shouts in a language I cannot even begin to decipher, and the endless unrecognizable dishes and food they've left out has led to rodents. It's safe to say my first place is a little less than glamorous. It used to be amusing. It's not anymore.

Except I won't be saying 'please'...

 Thanks to Craigslist, it will all be over soon. Finding an apartment isn't difficult, as long as you're prepared. The key(s) to success - be realistic, and be flexible. Have a price limit, know your absolute must haves, and be willing to compromise on the rest. While my price limit still makes me nauseous, and is considerably higher than I'm spending now, I know that if I'm smart with my budget and maintain the income I do now, I'll be OK. My must haves were tricky to match with my budget, but not an option to meet. I needed a safe neighborhood, no roommates (I'm done playing maid), a separate entrance (if in a private home), my own kitchen and bathroom, and within realistic driving range of my school and two jobs. I compromised some, but that's where the need to be flexible comes in. The apartment is a studio in the lower level of a private home. It's in a great, safe, neighborhood, and the home owners seem reliable and honest. While both the main room and bathroom are freshly painted with newly tiled floors, the size is not a big upgrade from the shoebox bedroom I rent out now - compromise number one. The location is good safety wise, but it is also a 15-20 minute drive to either one of my jobs and school. While these two things are both cons on my list, the list of pros far surpasses them, and prompted me to put down the security and first months' rent this morning. One short month, and the only hair I'll be sweeping up off the floor will be my own.

Finding your own apartment can be overwhelming, and you always need to be aware of scams, especially on Craigslist. But being smart, giving yourself time, and allowing some flexibility and compromise are the best ways to ensure you will eventually find what you're looking for. And a less than fabulous living situation you're currently in (ahem, as in mua) will make the move that much more amazing.