The First Day of The Rest of My Life

Today is my last day of work. Forever. Just kidding. [Reality punch in the face.] But at least for now.

Rationally I know I should be a lot more freaked out about my future than I am, but then I realize that the stars have more or less aligned in my favor for a brief second to make all this possible.

[Full disclosure about something you probably don't care to know but I somehow feel obligated to share with you just so you don't think I'm the most fiscally irresponsible person ever, because I'm not and I take pride in it: Spending your time watching entire seasons of shows online for free while sitting in your company-paid-for apartment, cooking meals at home due to lack of friends, is a great way to save money. Ch-ching.]

Anyway, I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff looking out over the horizon. Which makes me incredibly effing nervous because it's not so much that I'm afraid of heights, it's more that I worry about being the one in control of my own ability to plummet to my death. Strapped, harnessed on enclosed in something that will keep me from falling? Totally fine. Relying on my own clumsy prowess? Terrifying. So basically this little stint of unemployment is a test to see what I can do on my own, without the safety net of a full-time job keeping me in line. And again, it is scary!

But then I think back to two years ago when I was finally wading to shore after spending several months sinking in depression. The economy sucked, I was stuck at a job that made me question my mental sanity on a regular basis, and I lived in a personal hell made up of stolen condiment accusations and passive-aggressive toast-making.

The time itself was painful; I wondered if it would ever get better. But the experience made me realize things had to change. I wasn't happy so I sat down to brainstorm what I could do to be happy. In a little black Moleskin I jotted down ideas across the spectrum, ranging from realistic to idealistic. There on one end was consultant, on the other end, writer.

After years of denying the possibility that writing was what I was passionate about, I finally accepted it. But I soon realized there was no way to make the leap without falling on my face. I needed experience. I had to be patient.

One day I started this blog to serve as my creative outlet, the diary of my journey, and a way to ruin countless future relationships. (Oh well, most were really just excuses for blog fodder, let's be honest.) I also kept applying for "real jobs," eventually finding one as a consultant. And, finally, The BFF and I moved out of the inner circle of hell.

Little by little life eased back into being tolerable, slowly making the switch to enjoyable and finally to awesome. Although I'd hoped to be able to write more without the shackles of depression weighing me down, anything other than semi-regular blog posts took a place on the back burner. Life got in the way. 

So now, as I wrap up this phase in life waiting to see what comes next, I'm pledging to myself (and to you, The Internet) to make a real effort. Recently it dawned on me that most people are successful because of their relentless drive to make something happen. (I'm not totally sure why it took me so long to realize this. Am I a late bloomer?) But now I know I want to be that person.



I'm a H-U-S-T-L-E-R baby, I just want you to know.

Conan O'Brien's wise NBC send-off said it best:

"All I ask of you is one thing: please don't be cynical. I hate cynicism -- it's my least favorite quality and it doesn't lead anywhere. Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you're kind, amazing things will happen."

So I'm going to work on that. And we'll see what happens.

Making Up For Lost Time With My Favorites

While I was away from New York, I missed the food more than anything else. I mean friends, not food. My friends. My people. It's all about the people.

But also a little bit about the food. Okay, a lot about the food. 

Fine, I missed them both, truly, in their own ways. But definitely the food.

I'm leaving in two and a half weeks. I have to make up for lost time and get in as much food time as I can. I mean friend time! Gosh. My friends. They mean the world to me. As long as we're eating while we're hanging out. Which is pretty much always. So we have a great time together. Man, I'm going to miss them.

Anyway, thinking about all these feelings (of hunger? Perhaps love? Like the theme of Twilight: Maybe I Love You, Maybe I'm Hungry), I started making a list of some of my favorite places I've recently been to with some of my favorite people. Because this blog has now entered into the "personal record of my fun, awesome NYC life to look back on when I'm old and surrounded by cats dogs" phase. I'm sorry.

• Les Halles with my two favorite grad students The BFF and Ashley where I ordered the amazing confit de canard with truffle potatoes and frisee salad. This restaurant has been a staple place since The BFF and I first moved here since it was located down the street from our first apartment. Highlights: Once we were seated next to Anthony Bourdain. Swoon.
• Bite with Ole Miss Mollie where I ordered my favorite neighborhood combo meal, the eggplant/mozzarella/pesto panini and goat cheese salad. It is only $8. That is practically free.
• Chipotle with myself on more than one occasion. Because I have issues.
• Baoguette with Ashley for my favorite bahn mi in the city.
• Momofuku Bar Bar with The Russian (blast from the past Part I) for whiskey cocktails.
• El Camion, a new East Village mexican place, with LA Jim (blast from the past Part II). 
• The Dutch with my ex J (blast from the past Part III) for a smorgasbord of delicious comfort food.
• Five Points for a brunch catch up with some of my favorite girlfriends. The baked eggs with ricotta and roasted tomatoes was to die for.
• Mermaid Inn with The Greek for dinner where we shared a lobster roll and fish tacos. Heaven.
• Piola for the best white pizza ever (Sarajevo = smoked mozzarella and ricotta) for Wednesday Free Wine Ladies Night with my Ithaca pals.

 

A few other places I'm dying to enjoy again before I go:

• Cafe Cluny for delicious food (and the memories of some great dates).
• Shake Shack for Shake Burger and/or cheese-stuffed portabella burger. Or both if I have given up on 2012 at that point.
• Momofuku Ssam Bar for the steamed pork buns and spicy pork sausage and rice cakes. 

 

What I want to try before I leave:

• Minetta Tavern for the $26 Black Label Burger. Because it is important to be able to regale ridiculous tales of New York's fabulousness.

Hopefully I'll find some friends willing to accompany me on these culinary adventures. Otherwise it really will be all about the food. And then it's just sad.

 

(Or is it?)

Your Personal Tour Guide

One of my dream jobs would be to work as a personal tour guide in New York. Is that a real thing? Do you think I could find people willing to pay to hang out, eat and drink with me? I can add in really riveting facts like "That is a Whole Foods I occasionally buy stuff from, but not my main grocery shopping location."

Based on that hard sell, it seems like my services might not appeal to everyone, but luckily I was able to spend last weekend with someone who cared about my little piece of life here. The Greek (identifying guys based on their exotic nationality just seems to be easiest), otherwise known as the guy from my last week in Berlin, came to New York for meetings, adding in an extra day to see me.

Swoon.

We had dinner at Kittichai and brunched at Beauty & Essex (the tequila, cinnamon & honey cocktail was a-mazing). We walked across the Brooklyn Bridge followed by a stroll from SoHo through the LES and East Village to Union Square. (I'll miss these stompin' grounds!)

We made a stop along the way at Pipa (which I found out means blowjob in Greek?!?) where I drooled over ABC Carpet & Home chandeliers (someday!!!) and sipped on sangria. We ended the evening in my single favorite spot in the city - Madison Square Park - a little piece of heaven hidden away by its surrounding statuesque structures.

We did all this on foot, mind you, because to me the cornerstone of New York appreciation is walking, the only way you can get a full sense of the city's charm. I especially love sharing this view of my favorite places with those who have never experienced anything beyond Times Square and other Uptown madness. Every few blocks you encounter a new neighborhood, the juxtaposition of different atmospheres constrasting the million options the city has to offer. 

It is all very magical.

And it will remain that way, long after I leave. But hey, I can always come to visit.

(Especially on someone else's dollar. Any takers? Disclaimer: Personal Tour Guide is not code for hooker, just so we're on the same page.)

New Year's Resolutions That I've Stuck With For A Whole Week

First of all, New Year's Resolutions are total crap. Second, I totally love making them. But this year I've tried a new thing where I haven't broadcasted them until now in an effort to limit my documented failure.

So now, a little over a week later and going strong, I will share with you my new daily resolutions. Basically, I learned a lot about myself living alone in Berlin, e.g. that if given the opportunity, I will not shave my legs until I have to, and also I'm kind of a slob. I'm a real catch, I know!!!

Let's be honest, things are probably only going to get more slovenly next week when I am no longer going to be a productive member of the professional workplace. Then it will be even more paramount that I get my act together and impose some semblance of structure in my life.

Hopefully the following resolutions will stick until at least February:

1) Stop living like a homeless hoarder. Just because it is easier to let stuff pile up, and even though I totally know where everthing is!, doesn't mean it's acceptable behavior. Hang up clothes, stay organized, and make the bed each morning. (This goal will immediately fall to the wayside if I move home and live with my parents where I will no doubt revert back to High School Rachel, Queen of Disorder and Defiance.)

2) Write everyday. Because really, what better things do I have to do?

3) Do something interesting and/or worthy of being written about every day. (That one is for you, guys, you're welcome.)

4) Physical activity of some kind.

5) Learn to cook new things or really just attempt to use one of the cook books I own, especially the ones I insist on taking with me from NYC.

6) Stop watching TV shows in the small screen version on my tiny net book, which is exactly the size of my iPhone screen, because it is ridiculous.

7) Revert back to consciously eating. (Currently reading Bethenny Frankel's Naturally Thin book for inspiration.)

I know seven is kind of a random number to end on, but that's all I got. Unless you have some good ones you think I should be doing too. Anyone? Bueller?

What's Next For Me, I'm Sure You're Wondering

Because I assume you've been on pins and needles waiting to know where I will go and what I will do after I leave New York, I've decided to answer some hypothetical questions:

Are you moving to Austin?
At some point, but not right away.

So where are you going?
I've decided to take a "winter sabbatical" in Colorado for a month or two. My incredibly sweet friend S, who I visited last February, has offered to let me crash on her couch in Denver.

What are you going to do in Colorado?
Nothing? Enjoy the bevvy of hot, single men? ("Menver" haha). No, but really, my only priorities are to enjoy life, ski on the weekends, cook, practice yoga, convince S's cat that her (his) name is Mrs. Beatrice, and write. One goal I've had for awhile is to write a book, and now the stars have aligned to make it possible for me to dedicate some time to it. Of course the level of self-motivation required is ridic (especially competing with the possibility of endless hours of TV watching), but we shall see. Hopefully I will make the most of it. In which case, do you know anyone who works in publishing? (If only my mother could channel her energy and transition from being my Pimp Match.Mom Agent to my Literary Agent, then I might have a chance... ;)

Please tolerate me while I live the dream. 

So you're just quitting your job in the middle of a bleak economic downturn to be unemployed on purpose...?
Yep! If you think about it, I'm kind of a jobs creator. So, you're welcome, America.

And your parents are supportive of that decision?
Surprisingly, yes. Although, considering my father and aunt both lived in Colorado as ski bums in their 20s, I guess there wasn't much they could say. It's in my genes!

What are you going to do for work after you've depleted your savings account?
I don't know, have any good leads for me? The fall-back plan is to move to Austin and "live off the land."

Does "live off the land" mean live in your parents basement and eat their food?
Trick question, it's Texas, there are no basements! But yes, generally, that is the idea. I also plan to put together a dossier of aggregated promises my mother has made to me via gchat in an effort to bribe me to move back to Austin. "You can have your brother's car, he doesn't drive it very often," for starters. "Get as many dogs as you want!" (Okay, that one might not be verbatim.)

So yeah, basically I should probably be more worried about my future than I am. We'll see what happens, but it's a new year and I can't help but to be optimistic.

Anyone else doing anything crazy with the fresh start of the new year?

*crickets*

Just me?

Oh New York, It Could Never Last

I have loved New York since I was young. What started out as a harmless crush turned into the only long distance relationship I ever felt worthy of pursuing. Four years ago I bought a one-way plane ticket to make it my future. I have never regretted that decision for a second.

But the thing is, New York is not easy. Like any relationship, it takes work. We have had some amazing times together; we have had those moments when you look down in disgust and think, "Now this is what real hate feels like!"

New York can be cold and icily cruel. It has been distant, isolating and stoic. But then when I least expect it, I am enveloped by love. A bear hug of awesome. Even the most mundane activities together lead to unexpected joy. My appreciation for the little things has been heightened times a million. Seasons, nature, fashion, strangers' compassion, individual satisfaction. 

When I first arrived, naive would be a generous word to describe me. I mean, I still believe most infomercial gadgets are probably going to cure cancer, but about real-world issues, I have a clue now. New york is the best teacher: Financial bailouts, political gridlock, gay rights, real estate envy - I had a front row view of it all.

But it wasn't all Cable News Network. New York provided a well-rounded education too. Celebrities, I've seen 'em. Culinary delights, I've tasted them. Fashion icons, I've literally almost run into them. These experiences have made me a better version of myself. (Or at least, a more self-important version, which is fine too.)

But personal growths leads to internal reflections. I notice that the whimsy has warn off, the newness no longer a pull. There is an undeniable level of comfort, but is that enough of a reason to keep things going? "I could have an amazing time here for another decade, but my life probably wouldn't be that different from how it is now."

What we had, New York and I, was never guaranteed to last. I knew going into it that building a future together would require sacrifices. Was I willing to make them? At some points along the way I thought yes. Could I handle never being the center of attention? How about not ever requiring a commitment longer than a calendar year? Maybe, I thought, I could keep it breezy. Perhaps all those trappings of conventional life are outdated by now, I justified.

But unfortunately, as much as I've tried to rationalize my love, I realize New York will always leave me wanting something more. We want different things. I won't lie, the age difference has been a factor. New York, so old and wise, and me in no position to disregard the history and pattern of behavior. I'm not the first young, idealistic girl to fall in love with these streets, and I won't be the last. If there is anything I have learned in life, it's that you can't change 'em. 

Basically, what I am trying to say, is that New York is the George Clooney of geography.

They wine and dine you better than anyone else, share a slice of glamorous life others will be jealous of, and you cannot deny they both gotta hell of a smile. But at the end of the day you can't require anything more. There is no agreement for forever. You will never be able to afford to buy. At some point, you have to walk away, satisfied by the memories and ready for what ever is next. 

We will be parting on good terms, New York and I. It is a difficult time and we hope you can respect our privacy. We are committed to staying friends.

Kind of Sad, Allegedly

In an effort not to start 2012 incredibly let down, I went into New Year's Eve with low expectations. I mean, I was excited for an opportunity to get dressed up, see friends and be back in the city, but in general, I just really could not make any grand effort one way or another. Because New Year's Eve is the worst.*
*With the exception of 1982 when my parents were married. Happy 29th anniversary, guys.

Anyway, my night actually started off amazing, lifting my spirits for the possibilities ahead. What grand act could bring me such happiness? I found a cab in less than five minutes. Granted it was still fairly early, but still. New Year's miracle! Of course this great luck landed me at the restaurant 20 minutes head of the friends I was meeting for dinner.

Normally I would be uneasy about being forced to sit alone at a bar, but bolstered by my newfound "I am a confidant lady who lived in Europe!" experience, I sauntered up and ordered myself a dirty vodka martini. Like a champ, texting (legimately, not even pantomiming, but we've all been there) and sipping my adult beverage.

And then, after I'd marinated in my comfortable smugness for a few minutes, the guy sitting to my left confronted me with the statement, "We have been wondering what you are doing here by yourself." Followed by his embarrassed girlfriend interrupting to clarify they had not in fact been "wondering" about me. It was more or less the greatest fear I have ever had about going to a restaurant by myself. Luckily I was able to assure them I was in fact meeting people and not alone like a total loser alone on New Year's. And then I waited with baited breath for my friends to show up before the couple left so I didn't look like a huge losery liar. (The girls soon came and all was right in the world.)

Following the meal, my friends and I managed to find another cab within a matter of seconds to drive us to The BFF's BFs TriBeca apartment for a party. With a limited amount of eligible bachelors in attendance - although a 22 year old in town visiting his brother was fairly adorable cougar bait - I spent the Midnight Countown awkwardly congregated in a corner with my other single friends. Which was totally fine until I started reminding myself "How you spend New Year's is how you'll spend the new year." Real inspirational.

But it was fine. Low key and low expectations. Which is why I agreed to stop by a bar on my way home to say hi to my friend Jim, the poster child for someone you should under-estimate. It was good to catch up, but more importantly, it was good to get two more cabs with little to no effort. No trouble getting home? NYE VICTORY!!!!

Due to my fairly well-behaved evening, I was rewarded with a hangover free New Year's Day where I took advantage of the warm(ish) weather with a long walk in Central Park. And I have to say, it was pretty perfect.

I was feeling proud of myself and my good decisions until I talked on the phone with my mom. She had been dying to tell me about her night. She wore a dress I had suggested she try on while we were on a post-Christmas shopping trip, "something she would never have chosen for herself." It looked great on her, and I had a feeling it would inspire a fun night out. (I am giving the dress more credit than it deserves - put my mom in a situation with live music and she will have fun, no questions asked.)

Anyway, she was giving me the play by play of the night, I was half paying attention, and then all of a sudden the words, "And then the waitresses dancing on the bar suggested I get up there and I figured 'when else am I going to say I did this?' so I got up there too!!!"

Yep. My mom thinks her night was great because she danced on a bar. I thought I had a great night due to my efficient cab hailing.

When I gave that comparison to her on the phone, her answer was: "That is kind of sad, Rachel."

Hope you had a special time too!!!!!!!!!!!!!