Sunday, June 4, 2017

Things Are Different Now

Remember that bar? 

The one where you first saw me? I mean really saw me.  
I haven't been back to that place in almost two years. 
I can't hear the name of it without think about us.

Well tonight, they wouldn't let me in. 

When's the last time I went somewhere that asked for my I.D.?!
My usual Saturday night is spent running around the dining room trying not to kill someone.
The funny thing is I knew they were going to be carding. 
The funnier thing is I knew I wasn't going to get in. 
The funniest thing is I didn't even want to get in.

After a rejection I was fully prepared for, I opted for Plan B.
After a quick walk through the Lower East Side, I got to where I wanted to be.
 The look on your face when you saw me was a rejection I wasn't prepared for.

In the beginning, your face would light up when I walked in.
I took extra time getting ready if I knew you'd be there.
I was a secret.
Things are different now.

I make a quick excuse for why I'm there.
It's a restaurant in New York City.
I don't need a fucking excuse to be there.

Bartender asks if anyone is joining me. 
Nope- just me. 
Bartender asks if I have allergies or aversions. 
Yup- I hate raw celery.

Part of me wonders if they're asking because they want to send extras.
I want to believe they know I'm special. 
We don't always get what we want.
Things are different now.

I try to catch your eye as you float around the room.
I try to connect for just a moment.

Remember when I was the only one you could see?
Now it's like you'd rather do anything else than see me.
It's like you're looking past me, through me, around me.
Things are different now.

I hate this.
I hate everyone around me.
I hate that they're getting the best of you.
I hate that I'm getting none of you.
And I hate hearing your laugh.

You can hear it from across the room.
It's the most genuine, goofy sound.
It used to be one of my favorite sounds.
Things are different now.

I tell myself, 
"Don't look eager. 
Don't look lonely. 
Don't look desperate.
Don't let your disappointment show."

I try to hide.
I try to make no fuss.
I try to stop the waves of nostalgia.
Another bite of food. 
Another sip of sherry. 
It's not working.

Once late at night you said that you feel like I'm spying on you when I surprise you at work. 
It's the last thing I expected to hear.
It seemed like such a strange thing to say.
Things are different now.

Bartender strikes up a conversation.
He's nice.
He's handsome. 
He's worldly.
He's good at his job.

A good bartender is a dangerous thing.

Now I'm smiling.
Now I'm laughing.
Now I'm catching your eye.
Now I'm trying to hurt you too.

I really thought we could change.
I really thought we might have a chance.
That things could be different.

I leave without caring if you see me or not.
On my way home I hear a subway musician singing, 
"Oh Darling, please believe me. I'll never do you no harm."  
I want to believe it.
But I can't.

Everything is different now. 

Wednesday, May 31, 2017

The Most Romantic Thing

Remember that date night last November?

We tried to have date night once a week. Working a full-time front of house schedule didn't always allow for that. Getting the same night off was like winning the lotto, landing on the jackpot. And not every single one was amazing. Most of them were pretty ordinary.  But then there the ones that nothing will compare to. Those nights felt like pure magic. 

So, do I remember that night? 
Si, claro. 

It was right after I had spent Thanksgiving with his immediate family and even though I'd met everyone before this was different. This was on a holiday. We brought wine from "us" even though he was the one that had picked it up (and paid for it). He chose well though. There was a bottle of Arnot-Roberts Trousseau in the mix. It's one of those bottles that I have a nostalgic attachment to because it was on the list at the restaurant where we met. I remember tasting it for the first time at line-up and listening to him describe it. He sounded so smart and was so excited about it. It was perfectly charming and attractive. I had such a crush. When I took a sip that first sip, it lit me up. It was unlike anything I'd ever tasted. Delicate yet firm. Whimsical yet structured. It was delicious. Every time I see that bottle in a shop, I buy it. I just bought it yesterday.

I had on a perfect dress. It is one of those dresses you only pull out for holidays or other special occasions. 

He always teased me about my clothes. I always teased him with my clothes- a short skirt, a backless dress, a plunging neckline- because that's what great clothes are for, no?

I took a cab and timed my arrival perfectly. I knew he would already be seated and have to watch me walk in. 

He was always early. 

He would have to stand up, give me a kiss and pull out my chair for me before anyone else could. When I walked in the hostess immediately recognized me and gestured to the table where he was waiting. 

His face was almost one of surprise when he saw me. 

Spoiler alert. My appearance is not regularly glamorous but I made the effort and pulled out the stops that night- I put on a great dress, I did my hair, I took time to put on makeup, I even wore heels. And the look on his face when I walked in made it well worth the effort.

Three of us from work all got along and by chance had a night off together so we made a reservation to go to dinner. It was in the middle of July. It was hot as hell. I had about a million bobby pins in my hair all working to keep my crown braid secure as I navigated the subway stairs in my wedges. I wore black shorts and a bright blue blouse with a bright yellow statement necklace. Naturally, we couldn't show up to our reservation on time so we planned to meet at a bar around the corner for drinks. He was there on time. I was late. When he saw me walk in, it was like he was seeing me for the first time. Watching him watch me walk in was thrilling. I wanted him to look at me like that all the time. By the time our friend got there, I'd decided my crush was full-blown. He spent the next few days returning bobby pins to me.  

We were seated in a corner booth so there was no chair to pull out but you know he got up and pulled out the entire table so I could slide gracefully into the booth. 
Fine dining, man. 
There is nothing like it.

The next few moments are a blur. 
There are the standard restaurant greetings, "Hello, how are you this evening? May I start you with sparkling or still?"
"He likes sparkling, I'll take still." 
"So nice to see you, you look beautiful." 
"Thank you so much. I'm excited to finally sit down for dinner."
A few of the people who are close to him stop by and say hi or are introduced to me for the first time.

He had brought his parents, his brother, even his roommates before I got a proper sit-down dinner. Sure, we came in for champagne and dessert at the bar for my birthday. But that was different. We stopped by early in the evening before service really got going. The restaurant was empty. I had since been coming in on my own or with friends for basically the same thing on a fairly regular basis. Partly for the delicious champagne and dessert but mostly to see him.

Before we even have a chance to think about drinks, there's a bottle of Shaman Margeut Rosé Champagne being presented to me and I'm poured a taste. 

When we were working together, he would save me tastes of different bottles that he sold. We had a spot where we kept glasses lined up. Everyone knew those were his prize tastes and off limits but not for me. They were little treats for me to enjoy throughout the night. But whenever he sold champagne, he would find me and make sure I got a taste right then and there because nothing is as good as freshly opened champagne. 

I accept the taste because it's delicious and as the server is pouring, he notices that it's a bottle that was already open. Maybe from the night before? He gives the server a look and says, "Hey, man. Can you open a new bottle?" And it wasn't in a way that made him sound annoyed or angry. It was a voice where the subtext was, to me at least, "Hey man, help me impress this girl. She deserves the best. She's special. Please open a new bottle of champagne."

 I still think it's the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

My Stupid Heart

Look at the facts.
Be logical.
Listen to your parents.
Be reasonable.
Stop reaching out.
Be sensible.
It just takes time.
Give yourself time.

Two months into this new arrangement.
I hate it more and more each day.
I think about you every day.
I miss you all the time.
I hate everyone else.
I don't want these feelings.
I don't know what to do with them.
I wish you would take them away.

I wish for Saturday night all over again.
I smile just thinking about it.
That means something.
That has to count for something.
To me, it is everything.

My stupid heart.
It won't quit.
It holds on.
It is killing me.

Quarter Life Crisis

We need to have a talk.
Stop avoiding this.
Deal with it.
Figure it out.

What do you want?

You moved here almost 3 years ago to chase a dream. And along the way you fell in love. You fell in love with a world that you didn't even realize existed and it has completely swept you off your feet.

It's not your fault. The New World is a place of intelligence, hard work, charm, and grit. A world where you get to create experiences and memories that will stay with people. A world where the learning never stops. It challenges you every day. It brings fascinating, inspiring, beautiful people into your life. It's a full sensory experience. It's sensual and alluring and it woke you up somehow. It is not the world you have been planning for.

Can you live in two worlds at the same time?
Can you love them equally?
Can you give all of yourself to both?

Is there even enough of you to go around?

When will you have to decide?
How much longer can you juggle a double life?
What would happen if you made a choice?
What could you accomplish if you threw all your energy into one?

Would you pick the Old World that chews you up and spits you out over and over again? The world that makes you feel like a crazy person. The world that you believed so fiercely that you'd be a part of but doesn't seem to want you.

Or would you pick the New World? The world that you're afraid of fully committing to because what would people say? They'd say you couldn't cut it. You gave up.

But is it giving up?

There are people from the New World who whisper that you are talented. That you could make an impact here. That you have something you can't teach people. That you're really good.

The New World wants you.
Who doesn't want to be wanted?

And then there's him.

I don't know why.
It doesn't make sense.
Everybody says don't.

He is the gateway drug.
He's holding the door open.
He always held doors for me.

Fuck.

Morning After Musings

Where am I?

Do I still have friends?
How did I get home?

Where are my credit cards?

Wow, I took my make up off.
Except there's lipstick all over the pillowcase.

I'm such an asshole.

Coffee or water?
I'm starving.
Did I eat dinner?
Why am I such an idiot?

Where the fuck are my cards??

My roommate is going to kill me.

I don't even want to look at my call history.
Jesus. 
I called 25 times.

Ok, guess I'll just cancel all the credit cards.
Ugh, now I have to memorize a new set of 16 digits plus expiration and security code.

Can I get a new ID online?
I've exceeded the number of times I can apply online.
Seriously?
Fuck.

Wow, my head hurts.
Why is it so bright out.

I hate myself.

Every cab driver in the city hates me too.

Who spent $31.13 at 7-Eleven?

Cards are definitely lost.

Goddammit.

What is this bruise?

Let me respond to these people who asked if I made it home ok.
Ugh, I must've been really out of it.

How did that happen??
I know exactly how it happened.
Beer and tequila.
I'm an idiot.

Seamless is the greatest gift to mankind.

I'm just going to call and apologize.
Straight to voicemail.
Did you block my number?
I guess I'll send an email apology.
Is this stalking?
This is crazy.

DUOLINGO STOP EMAILING ME TO REMIND ME IT'S TIME TO PRACTICE SPANISH.

But maybe I should just move to Spain.

Waking up alone sucks.
Waking up hungover and alone really sucks.

Cue the self-loathing.

At least my hair still looks good.

Fuck me.

I miss you.
All the time.

But especially this time.

Thursday, April 27, 2017

I Can't, I'm Sick

It all started on a Friday night...

This could be the opening line to a story far more interesting than this.

ellen page celebrity gif
I was at work on Friday night when I felt the first symptoms...a little stuffy, a little sore throat, a little achy. I decided to handle it like all my other problems in life- ignore it until it becomes impossible to ignore any longer.

So I go about business as usual except I up my daily dose of Vitamin C by approximately 1000% and take Zicam whenever I can remember, which isn't how it works most effectively in case you were wondering. But usually, that's
enough to kick any cold to the curb! This one, however, was special.

I have been home for the past 48 hours unable to breathe through my nose and counting down the minutes until I can take more pseudoephedrine.

And here's a list of some of my goals/accomplishments/activities.

1. I have only ordered delivery TWICE! Although I would be lying if I said Seamless wasn't open in another tab at this moment. I ordered super spicy ramen while watching the Chef's Table episode on Ivan Ramen. Life imitating my current Netflix series binge. Profound, I know.

2. I watched the entirety of 13 Reasons Why. Didn't cry once. Maybe it's the cold meds? Maybe I don't have a soul? You decide.

3. I made a CVS run and returned with a gallon of orange juice, which is now gone, and a pint of Ben and Jerry's, which is also gone.

4. I am having mixed feelings about Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt but the binge continues...

5. I played all the Broadway lotteries and LOST. It's probably for the best but STILL.

6. I have read all about the Whole 30 and will be so prepared when I finally decide to start but it can't be until I'm feeling at least 98% better so...stay tuned.

7. I have contemplated my life's purpose. Moving to Europe or embarking on an "Eat, Pray, Love"-esque quest were both seriously considered multiple times over.

8. I have done lots of Instagram stalking...surprise! My friends/people I follow have truly fabulous lives. Also, there definitely were a few slip-ups here and there so apologies for any random likes coming from me in the last few days! Oopsie.

Funny GIF - Find & Share on GIPHY

9. I have made myself feel incredibly guilty for not being able to exercise and even googled "best exercises to do while sick".

10. I have seriously contemplated buying a bunch of fruit to eat since I can't taste anything anyway. For those of you just joining me in life, fruit is my least favorite food category and I avoid it at all costs unless it's smothered in chocolate and even then, there's no guarantee I'll be fooled.  
11. I'm seriously considering asking Kleenex to sponsor me/hire me as their spokesperson since I seem doomed to be perpetually stuffy/chained to a box of tissues at all times.

We are now on Day 3 of quarantine and I was hoping I'd have funnier/more exciting things to write about than this but being sick is awful and really not that exciting. And to think I used to fake being sick when I was a kid just so I could have one of those grape flavored lollipops that me and only like two other people even liked! Well, lesson learned! 

Honestly...not sure what the lesson was/is but that can be said about a few things going on in my life currently. 

I would like to thank pseudoephedrine for giving me the courage/wreckless abandonment to get back to blogging. Also, thank you for helping me tackle that one scene in sophomore acting with Malcolm because it may be some of my best work to date.

Until next time!

Monday, July 11, 2016

Feel and Release

Here's what happened to me yesterday.

7:30am. I wake up before my alarm because it's summer and the sun streams through my window at such a ridiculously early hour. Normally, I would draw the curtains but alas, I need to keep them open so my window A/C unit can work it's magic. The struggle is real. After snoozing my alarm twice, I finally get out of bed, make a cup of coffee, get distracted with trying to pack for the day and run out of time to drink my coffee so I end up dumping it in my to-go tumbler (why I didn't just brew it into that tumbler directly, I don't know).

8:40am. I hop on the train to head downtown. There was so much fucking construction going on that I had no idea whether or not the train I got on would take me where I needed to go but nonetheless, I got on and hoped for the best. I didn't have to be at work until 10:30 but I've been trying to create the habit of working out before brunch service so as to put myself in a more positive place and thereby avoiding any civilian casualties.

9:30am. I'm in class at a studio I've never been to before when all of a sudden the instructor says, "Ok, everybody grab a trampoline!" My approximate reaction:



10:00am. Trampoline torture is over and now I can cross that off my bucket list.

10:30am. I get to work early and find out the private brunch party I'm working is a BABY SHOWER. Normally, parties are easy breezy beautiful CoverGirl but pregnant people (and their friends/families) are freaking high maintenance!! Like. Ok we get it- you are growing a human being inside of you and that's great but you brought that upon yourself so it's no excuse to be exceptionally needy. Needless to say, I was not in the mood to deal with this.

5:00pm. I am finally heading home. I'm exhausted and hungry even though I'd been snacking all throughout my shift because it turns out pregnant people and their friends over order and under eat. When I get home, I can't figure out what to make for dinner. I'm hungry, I smell bad, things just aren't looking good. I have to give myself an emotional pep talk just to get in the friggin shower. Once I'm clean, I sit on the couch, start season two of Madam Secretary and that's when the weirdness starts to set in.

8:15pm. I'm in a weird mood. I say weird because I could not figure out what the hell I was feeling. I don't know where this came from or why I can't snap out of it but before long I'm crying. TEARS. Tears are streaming down my face. I'm confused and sad and I don't know how to sort it out.



No one is around to tranquilize me and put me out of my misery so I'm left to sort this out on my own. I am going crazy trying to sort this out so I do the only thing I can think of to help- I write. I write down everything that comes to mind. Some of it is nonsense but some of it is revelatory and by the time I finish, I have a better idea of what the hell I am feeling.

Last night, I was feeling insecure. 

Everyone has insecurities. I believe this without a doubt. We all carry them but they manifest themselves differently depending on the person. For me, most of the time it's just a shadow of a thought. Every once in a while, I'll catch myself voicing these insecurities out loud. And then there are those rare times when all the things I'm not confident about rear their heads simultaneously, I get completely overwhelmed and the result is a Category 5 meltdown. I'm not going to write about those insecurities themselves because that would be way too vulnerable and daring of me and I'm not that cool. But I will say that I gave myself permission to feel whatever was coming up- sadness, anger, frustration, fear, loneliness. I cried a lot and eventually I fell asleep but not before I cried more. I gave myself permission to be an emotional mess and in hindsight, it was amazing.

I don't know what brought this on. Maybe I was sleep deprived. Maybe working brunch is an emotional trigger. Maybe I was a little jealous of that pregnant woman who was surrounded by all her loved ones and celebrating the next clear chapter of her life. I don't know what is next. Sometimes that makes things exciting, sometimes it's messy and sometimes it's really scary.

Someone once told me that I have to let myself feel things so that I can let them go. Starting today, I am trying to be more aware of feeling whatever comes up and then letting that shit go.

Feel and release.

How's that for a Monday mantra?