The Blackout I Want to Forget

I'm a classy bitch. I like to go out and have a good time, and it should be clear to you by now that I am no stranger at the bar, but when it comes down to my drunken self, I always try to maintain a level of class and dignity. This was not the case last night.
I've promised you bar stories, but there's really not much to tell. And I don't want my parents to fret. We'll just narrow it down to this - blacking out is not funny under the following circumstances:
1. You fall in 5 1/2 inch heels
2. You loose your Blackberry
3. Before loosing your Blackberry, you unknowingly drunk dial your father
4. The only way you know the previous information is because it was told to you - the last thing you actually remember is speaking Spanish to the cab driver...on the way to the club

OK, so the last one's a little funny. But only the Spanish speaking part.

My dignity was lost right along with my Blackberry, and I'm not about to say I don't deserve it. Thank god for ah-mazing friends, or I could be tied up in the back of a big white van, wondering where the hell my Hispanic cab driver went. Now that I've finally shaken off the hangover of a lifetime, and have made progress on the phone situation, the night is starting to be a little more amusing to me. Going into work at noon the following day seemed like the cruelest punishment I could be handed, but my co-workers laughs and add-ins of their own stories helped ease some of the humiliation. But no matter how entertaining it may be, nights like the one I had last night are notttt OK for a girl in my situation. Or anyone, period.
I obviously make light of my drinking, but there are consequences that come along with it, and they get a lot more serious than drunken dials to or from ex-lovas. As I said before, my friends are amazing. I was in the biggest city in the United States for god's sake. The fact that I was completely blacked out in a strange club in the middle of the meatpacking district is about as irresponsible as it gets. Along with physical safety is the actual condition of my health. Drinking that much, and in this incident, on an empty stomach, is just not necessary. The fact that my dinner was light and early did nothing to slow the absorption of my Pinnacle Whipped. I drank no more than everyone else, but competition always gets the best of me when we're going shot for shot, and I seem to forget the fact that I am, and always will be, a lightweight. It's usually a blessing in smaller bar tabs. Last night, I would have overdrawn my bank account if it meant avoiding my blackout.

So, moral of the story is - lesson learned. There's nothing wrong with going out and getting shit faced, but it doesn't do you any good if you can't even recall it the next day. It's stupid, irresponsible, and completely un-like the classy bitch standard I try to maintain on my nights out. I'm sure I'll be able to look back later and laugh...but it probably won't be for a while. Until then, I am going to be detoxing my liver and restoring my dignity, and hoping everyone else there will forget about the night as successfully as I did.

Confessions of a Drunken Ex-Lova

I wish I had a jaw dropping story about my first hurricane experience to entertain you with, but it was actually fairly quiet compared to many other areas on the east coast. I ended up going into Brooklyn and staying with the family - more for boredom precaution than safety. There were no issues with flooding whatsoever, we had power throughout, and a total of zero trees came crashing into the windows and on top of our cars. How mundane. Three bottles of wine later, and 'Irene' went back to being a tragic name saved for crazy aunts and sketchy neighbors. The most eventful it got was a drunk dial from my ex-boyfriend at three in the morning. And that's hardly the thrill I was looking for.

I hate drunk dials from old lovas. I'll admit, I fall guilty to making one or six of them back in the day when I had my first gin and tonic, but the thrill of it all has worn off after my old 23 years. There is no reward left in hearing a slurred "I miss you", "I made a mistake", or, in this case, "When are you moving back home so we can finally get married". Uh...what?

Now. We know I like to make light of things, which is why I can find the good in this. Yes, I'm flattered...I may be single, but I'm getting drunk marriage pre-proposals over the phone. And though it took four years, I now have a right to say the "I told you so" that I promised him I'd be able to someday after he left me brokenhearted in my basement a week before my high school graduation. But that 'I told you so' is never as sweet as we hope it to be, and this drunk dial wasn't quite as entertaining as I wish it was. Because though we were young, and it was a long time ago, and this boy probably had an obscene amount of Grey Goose before making the call, there were once real feelings there...wounds that have taken a long time to heal, leaving me guarded and wary of experiencing the same hurt that he put me through again.
My biggest fear in love is not that I can't find it, but that I won't find it with the right person. Having myself convinced that there was just one specific person meant for me left me feeling completely paranoid with all of my major life decisions. I worried if I made the "wrong" choice, I would only be keeping myself from the person I'm suppose to be with (A.K.A the "wrong choice" of living in New York). And that is why this phone call pissed me the fuck off. Because though we were young, and it's been four years, and there is almost always Grey Goose involved, this is not the first time we've had this conversation. And after those four years, I have yet to find someone that makes my heart skip a beat like this boy did.

His drunk dial came conveniently soon after the bar conversation I promised I'd share with you - the one concerning relationships, and the one that's made me look at all of this in the right perspective. I shared my 'only one specific person' fear with a 40-something year old married man who raised some valid points, completely shifting my mindset on the entire situation. As males usually do - he brought in logic to something I had fantasized in my head. He reminded me that life is all about choices, and who you end up with isn't necessarily because of fate or destiny, but rather because of the decisions you make that you believe are the best for yourself. I shouldn't have 'the love of my life' in the back of my head every time I make a major decision for myself. I need to do what's best for me, and by doing that, my love will come along.
So initially, yes, this phone call upset me, because it brought back that old fear of wondering if staying in New York and still being single isn't just a coincidence. It made me fantasize about the relationship I could have if I ever moved back to the Midwest. But then I remembered the wise, buzzed words of the man at the bar, and I hit myself with a dose of reality. This boy broke my heart. He absolutely humiliated me. And now, after four years and him finally realizing how fucking awesome I am, I'm entertaining the idea of what it would be like for me to throw away everything I have here and for us to make it work - all in fear of him being 'the one' and me being too stubborn to admit it? Reallllly, Leah. I don't want to be with this boy. I just want what I used to have with him...and there is no move big enough to bring that back.  
So, thank you for the flattery, ex-boyfriend. I'm happy you finally realized I am good enough for you. You're about four years too late though, I'm over a thousand miles away, and it's going to take a lot more than a drunk dial to convince me something is good enough to leave what I've made for myself here. That is one decision I am sure of.

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.

My Mr. Wrongs of Greece

While “Why Mr. Right Can't Find You” has been read cover to cover, I have unfortunately also learned lessons in dating through experience during my time in Greece. There's never a dull moment in my love life - which is interesting, because there never seems to be a successful moment either. I can't even take a short European vacation without being bothered by boys' bullshit. From the past, short two weeks here, my freshly experienced advice to anyone dating outside of their own country:

Just because he claims to speak English, doesn't mean he actually can.

I don't know if they think it will impress me, or maybe it's their form of a pick-up line, but I have had countless encounters with faux-English speakers. We get through the greeting, he can usually tell me his name, and once in a while I get an age, hometown, or career, but beyond that, the conversation goes downhill pretty quickly. According to the multilingual standards of the guys I've met here, I am a native English speaker, completely fluent in Spanish, know quite a bit of Greek, and my one word knowledge of Dutch translates to speaking “some” of the language. Unless he has proven his understanding of the language and can keep up past “where are you from”, don't get too excited when a guy claims to speak your language. The conversation will be pretty succinct, and you'll be back at square one, almost missing your American, English speaking douche lords.

Just because he's from a different country does not mean he will actually call when he says he will.

I'd been catching his eye all day, because he happened to be sitting next to my potential gorgeous Greek soulmate. But alas, it always needs to be the friend that is interested, and he was the one who approached me. He actually spoke plausible English, so we were able to carry a conversation. He seemed very interested, and asked for a way to contact me. I gave him a number where he could reach me, and he obviously never called. Sound familiar? Just because he's not American, doesn't mean he'll call.

They're not motorcycles, they're mopeds, and once you turn 16, you shouldn't date anyone who drives one.

I'm not really even sure how to present this dating experience except to tell you I was re-telling the story to my sister on the phone last night, and we were both having trouble catching our breath because we were laughing so hard. Conversation came easy with this guy in particular, and I eventually accepted a ride offer on his “motorcycle”. After walking to Guam and back in my stilettos, we finally approached a black replica of my 7^th grade boyfriends' moped, sans florescent orange flag. I know they are more popular to ride in Europe, and acceptable even after turning driving age, but I realized quite quickly that driving through the country side on the back of a moped, my five inch heels awkwardly clinging to the sides and hoop earrings getting tangled in my hair, is much more glamorous in the movies. Things got creepy fast when he took me to a discrete location on a dirt rode, tried to impress me with a mediocre view of the moon, and directly requested "kiss me" in an accent that went from romantic to repulsive in .2 seconds. After my request to be brought back, and his annoying remarks of "you don't like me" in the now-tarnished accent, I got my wish, and we hoped back on that sexy ride. Just to make the experience that much better, the moped proved its' worth, needing some pushing in order to make it up the country hillside. In my stilettos. I stopped trying not to laugh, made a mental note to blog about it, and concluded that mopeds need to be left to the juvenile.

Clearly European men have not influenced the success rate of my dating life, but I can't say I'm bothered. If anything, I'm thankful. They've done the unthinkable - made me actually appreciate my American counterparts. The next time at home I'm let down by a guy who doesn't call, I won't be disappointed - I'll just be grateful he drove a car and it all unfolded in English.

Brown Paper Packages Tied Up with String...

...these are a few of my favorite thingsss. I'm cranky, overwhelmed, and my coffee cup is empty. And I'm just lazy. So I'm going to attempt to bring a little sunshine into this rainy day. Survival pictorial for getting through my hectic days, cue Julie Andrews - these are a few of my favorite things...

This is my secret for keeping my room smelling as good as it does - Febreze Air Freshener and Fabric Spray. I spray it on my clothes, bed linens, and roommates' open doorways when they're not looking. It works wonders.

Starbucks. Instant. On the Go. That's all you need to know.

I wanted practical gifts for Christmas my senior year of high school, knowing I was moving far enough away that homemade meals would not be an option. The George Foreman was received, and the grilled PB&J was born. Along with paninis, grilled cheese, burgers, grilled vegetables, chicken breast, essentially anything your creative, famished little heart desires - a George Foreman is a great option for someone who's lazy and wants a good dinner.

This has been my lifeline lately. Aside from my planet issue mentioned previously, face cleansing towelettes are ideal for working long nights and coming home exhausted. No one wants to spend ten minutes getting ready for bed after a twelve hour shift at the bar, so these towelettes are perfect for still being able to take off your make-up as you're getting in to bed - literally. I have yet to resort to the traveling finger-toothbrush - I hope my laziness doesn't come to that.

Self Explanatory

I'm obsessively organized in general, but having multiple make-up/travel bags keeps me organized and prepared when I don't have the time to actually pack a bag. I usually have a main makeup bag that stays at my apartment, a bag with makeup essentials, deodorant, mini body-spray, hair clip, and pens (necessity for my job) ready to go with me to work, and another bag with my school ID (that I have yet to find), calculator, pens and pencils, and various other things I find useful for entertaining myself with when I get bored in class. Having separate bags always available and ready to go makes it easy to always have what I need, even when I don't have time to think about it.

Being Drunk Is Not an Excuse

Am I the only one that listens to piano music on Pandora? My page automatically starts with Lorie Line Radio. Surely this is not normal for a 22 year old. My only comfort is that Brittany Haan's Pandora most likely blasts an organ's rendition of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata when she signs in. One of the 483 reasons why I love her.

It's ridiculously humid on Long Island right now, making my typical afternoon run difficult to get through. Or even convince myself to begin. I have access to my school's gym, but I cannot find my student ID for the life of me, and lets be honest, going to the gym is about as thrilling as a visit to the gynecologist. I'd much rather take my run to the scenic outdoors than stare at the white washed cement walls in front of my treadmill. My dad swears he can run twice as far on the treadmill - I start swearing after .2 miles, am excruciatingly bored by .5, and usually call it quits around .8. It's not that difficult, it's just that boring.
The obvious solution to the heat would be to run early in the morning. And now lets refer back to my previous post and confirm that it's just not going to happen. I'm past my days of obsessively running 10 miles in whatever heat the good lord blessed us with that day, so my advice for a lush, late night working, busy bee college student who appreciates a good workout: do what you can.

There are some days I have the time and energy to put in a solid eight miles, and so I do exactly that. For longer runs, I love to go to a more scenic location - a local park, the beach boardwalk...anywhere where I have a little more to take in, with less risk of getting bored. My long runs are my favorite workout, and it is so frustrating when the reason for stopping is because I'm bored - it can be a difficult hurdle for me to overcome. If this is your problem when working out, do the obvious thing, and give yourself some type of entertainment. Whether it's the view around you, or the TV at the gym, address your entertainment issue head on, and give yourself something to focus on.
I obviously don't have the ambition for a long run every day of the week - there are days when there is absolutely no motivation to workout at all. The first step to no motivation is to simply put on your work out clothes. It's much more difficult to put off a workout when you're walking around in gym shorts and running shoes. (Although I will admit to a time when my motivation was so non-existent, I literally laid down on my bed and took a nap after this attempt for ambition - running shoes and all). Once you're physically ready, it will be a lot easier for you to become mentally prepared to workout.

If you're still not in the mood to break a sweat, give yourself 15 minutes. Knowing I always feel better afterwards, I try to talk myself into some form of exercise. You don't necessarily need to put in a four mile run and three sets of 15 reps on every weight machine in order to get a good workout. Hop on the elliptical, jog around the neighborhood, hell - even a walk around the block. Give yourself 15 minutes to get in the mood to workout, and if you're still not feeling it, to hell with it. Chances are though, at this point, you will have put so much effort into actually motivate a workout, you'll want to continue for lasting results.
Another cure to boredom? Mix up your workout. It was a lot easier when I was home and had access to my outdoor shed stocked full of gear, but there are so many different forms of exercise - don't limit yourself to just one or two. Invest in a pair of roller blades, fill up the air in your bicycle tires, or break out your old jump rope. Finding new ways to work out not only brings a little fun into your routine, but it can make you feel like a kid again - and who doesn't like that?

An issue I often face during my day is time to workout - or lack there of. There are days when I hardly have time to pee, much less squeeze in a workout, and that's OK. Rest days are vital to a healthy, active lifestyle, and you should allow yourself at least one per week. If it's not a rest day, and your time is limited, refer back to my golden workout rule: do what you can. Even if it's 20 minutes of cardio, something is always better than nothing. Consistency and quality are most important when it comes to maintaining an exercise routine, so squeeze in whatever you can find time for.  

Today may be one of those days where I need to lace up my running shoes in order to motivate myself to get out the door. Ever since I stopped validating "I'm lazy", "I'm hungover", or "I'm drunk", as justified excuses to miss a work out, it's been much more difficult to feel OK about skipping them. Damn.

Manic Monday, I Wish it was Sunday

Today was the first day in a while where I've woken up before 10:00. I am truly ashamed. I realize summer is for sleeping in when you're a student, but I have taken this concept to an entirely new level. I need to start setting an alarm clock.
It's Monday, which is justifying why I'm still in bed after over an hour of being awake. Moving day is looming, my room is in shambles, and holyshitIhavesomuchtodothisweek. It is not an easy task to move by yourself. I really should reconsider my chosen single status. Except that it's not happening. Unless prince charming comes along and completely overwhelms me. Or brings me my dream ring wrapped in its little blue box. Then considerations will be made.

It's going to be randoms today, because I'm scatter-brained as it is and I have no earth shattering or enlightening knowledge to even pretend to indulge you in. So my unintelligent, absent-minded randoms for you to waste your time on this dreaded Monday.

1. There are mice in my apartment again. And I may actually be boarder line racist after my living experience here.
2. I did the unthinkable this weekend. I took a drink back because it was too strong. And I am truly ashamed. In my defense, they poured about 8 oz of Captain Mo into my 12 oz pina colada cup, and I had to drive. And once had a very bad night with the Captain.

The Captain has wronged me one too many times

 3. I have found that parking in the lot half a block away keeps me from getting parking tickets (knock on wood). Annoying, and scurry at 3:00 AM, but effective.
4. The most incredibly agitating line a guy can use on me - "I've never met a girl like you before". No shit Sherlock, probably because you've never met anyone from Iowa before. I've heard it as often as I've heard my own name.
5. Speaking of guys, why are you so hesitant to approach girls? We see you looking, can practically read your lips when you comment to your friend, so why do you stay lurking in the corner? One of life's little mysteries. If you're a guy, and you find yourself in this situation, just go talk to her. Trust me on this one. If you're catching her eye that often, she wants you to come over.
6. With all of the social media options we have today, it's really hard to excuse ignoring your sister's text. Because she sees your tweet three hours later, and then questions your ability to tweet and not text. This was big brother Bogger's lesson learned this weekend.
7. Packages from home still make my day.
8. If you stop cleaning just to test your roommates' contribution, or lack there of, you will only end up with a nasty ass bathroom that you can hardly force yourself to use. Just keep cleaning.
9. I can't wait to move. And then go to Greece. #winning
10. I feel like I need a 10th. But I can't think of any more randoms....I have on lavender nail polish.

I started to apologize for my lack of intelligence and organization in this post, but I'm actually not sorry. Give me a break, it's Monday.

From Hungover to Happy

What the hell? Is it seriously the last day of June today? Please tell me every calendar I've looked at this morning is incorrect...I cannot believe how fast summer is going.
I'm attempting to write this fighting off a may-jah headache, so my apologies for any error. We all know at this point I'm grammatically incorrect, but I do tend to strive for structure and flow in my writing, and there may not be much of that today. Believe it or not, I think my headache is from waking up a half hour later than usual and not having my coffee on time. If there's one issue in my diet that needs addressing, it is my caffeine addiction...well, coffee addiction actually. It's obnoxious. But I just feel so kewl with my Starbucks' Goldmember Card. It has my name imprinted and everythinggg!

Another issue with my diet lately? Getting it the eff on track. I feel like I've been all over the place physically, and my eating has followed suit. Which would be OK if there wasn't that tiny issue of the ED, and it wasn't swim suit season, and that I actually like being a healthy, happy person. There is one guarantee for when my diet off track, and that is that it will turn me into a very bitchy lady. Don't worry, if you see me on a day to day basis, I'm good at playing pretend.

So my darlings, my advice to getting back on track after days of unhealthy foods, a vacation that consisted of carefree eating, or simply too many nights out at the bars with greasy hangover foods to follow.

Structure - Have a plan, and if you need to, write it down. Aim for 3 main meals, and 2-3 small snacks in between, and include a plethora of nutrients in each meal. Go for whole grains and lean proteins - just be smart dears, you know the rules. A juicy, fatty steak with mashed potatoes is not what I mean by a main meal.

Fruits and Veggies - I don't care if you don't like them - eat them. It is not hard to get your daily fill, you're just being lazy. Throw a banana into your oatmeal, strawberries into yogurt and granola, or munch on an apple in between meals. Veggies are often the hardest to get in, but the easiest to implement with effort. Put some veggies into an omelet, cut up some tomatoes for a grilled cheese, or if you're desperate, top off a pizza slice with lettuce, spinach, mushrooms, tomatoes...whatever you can stomach. If you're still struggling to get them in, there are some great juices that have a ridiculous amount of fruits and veggies in them. You need to be careful when selecting a brand - some are just as full of sugar as nutrients. When I'm feeling blah and not in the mood to make an effort, I always pick up a Naked (justtt a coincidence that happens to be the brand of my favorite juice). It's 100% juice, and my favorite flavor, The Green Machine, looks disgusting, but has enough nutrients in it to fulfill even the unhealthiest of eaters. (Oh hey, Myones!)
http://www.nakedjuice.com/#OurJuices/Background/MainMenu/Families/Superfood/bottle2
After you look at that, and then taste its amazingness, you have no excuse to not get in your daily fill of fruits and veggies.

Hydration - this is the easiest to overlook, along with the simplest quota to fill. Drink water, babies. Trust me. Simply doing this will make you feel better. It flushes out your system, gives your skin a healthy glow, and helps you feel full. A lot of times when you feel hungry, you're actually dehydrated, and a tall glass of water is all it takes to suppress that feeling of hunger and avoid a mini meal that you really don't need.

Though I preach structure and routine, and I always have a plan, you have to be able to relax too. No diet is ever going to be perfect, and god knows you need those black out nights with greasy hangover food the next morning. There are going to be days when your veggies are represented by the lettuce on your All American, and that's OK. As long as that's not every day. Putting the effort in here and there to make small changes in your diet will create long term results, helping put your eating on track and establish a more healthy lifestyle. And if a healthy lifestyle makes a less bitchy you, as it does Leah, those changes are priceless.

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.

Luxuries of a Lady

Women joke about it, men complain about it, and there's no denying it. Yes, there are disadvantages, but aside from the whole birthing process, monthly bill, and other weightless arguments a feminist may throw at me, there are some serious advantages to being a woman. I believe we often get so caught up in the negative, we forget the perks of the ta-tas, and that, my ladies, is a mistake.
So get over the fact that you feel violated at the gym, accept the possibility that men may continue to be arrogant and offensive, and forget that you may always be perceived to be less smart, funny, and successful. Put on your big girl panties, prove them wrong, and play up the fabulous perks we are given as women.

We get to paint our nails any color of the rainbow, we can wear the prettiest of dresses without being labeled a tranny, and we are able justify our obnoxious shopping obsession by calling it "therapeutic". Our shoes create the illusion of legs that go on for days, and we can make a blemish disappear with the stroke of a brush. Seats are given up, doors opened, and lines cut - all in the name of being a lady.

One of my favorite advantages - ladies' night at the bar. Not only does it guarantee a good crowd, it's an instant money-saver for nights out with your girls. Depending on the deals of wherever you choose to go, there's usually a minimal cover fee, and discounted drinks once you're in. The bar my girls and I went to last Thursday had a $5.00 cover charge, with free drinks for ladies until one o'clock. You can bet I pounded those gin and tonics once I was in. If it weren't for the two lemon drop shots I insisted on, naturally, I would have spent a total of nothing at the bar that night. Having a 'ladies' night' is a sure way to draw in a crowd, so check out the bars near you for their specials. You'll get a plethora of guys to mingle with without having to work up a sweat trying to get one to buy you an overpriced drink, only to be let down by the fact that he's a cheap douche lord that just wants to get in your pants. Talk about a weight off your shoulders.

Don't get me wrong now readers - I'm a classy girl. I don't wear shirts as dresses, and I take pride in my reputation. But I'm also a smart girl. As I said before, I am aware of the disadvantages women face, but I believe we should focus on the positive. I am a woman, and I'm going to own it. If I have to put up with the crude remarks reminding me I have great boobs, I'm going to milk all my gender has to offer - including endless drinks at the bar.

Blogging My Balance

 Welcome! I've been contemplating the idea behind this blog for a while now, and decided it was time to stop fussing over the details and let it materialize. I'm currently studying English at a university on Long Island, and writing has always been a passion of mine. I've lived in New York for almost two years, and can safely say moving here was the best decision I have ever made for myself. There's nothing quite like packing up your car and driving halfway across the country by yourself to initiate responsibility and personal growth.

While my writing will always be personal, I don't necessarily plan for my blog posts to revolve directly around my life. Instead, I want to share my advice and experiences of starting life on my own in New York, hoping you may learn from my mistakes or find relation to situations I find myself in. I go to school, hold down two part time jobs at local sports bars, and love to go out when I can. I strive to live a healthy lifestyle, which does not always coincide with a college lifestyle. Trying to balance all of these aspects of my life is often overwhelming, but I would not have it any other way.

As I reveal more of myself in my posts, I hope you are able to see a little bit of yourself in them as well. I'll give my advice on how to cut back financially, share my best money-saving shopping tips, and explain how I get myself back on track health-wise after a rough night out. And I'll most likely throw in a good bar story every now and then.

So check in and entertain yourself as I dread the first of the month rent payment, squeeze in workouts between bar hopping, fight for the last of my size on the clearance rack, and deal with all that falls in between.