Yesterday, while I was deep in conversation with a couple of guests from Texas, a woman approached my desk. She looked at my sign, which reads "Concierge Desk" and then lists some of the helpful and delightful things the concierge is responsible for. As I was mid-sentence with the Texans, she piped in with a "Is this the Concierge Desk?" I nodded and smiled, and then she proceeded to attempt to make a sales pitch to me. Through gritted teeth, I let her know I was currently with guests and that I would be happy to speak with her momentarily. The Texans scampered away.
The interrupter then spoke again.
"Happy Hannukah!"
I responded.
"Thank you. Same to you. How can I help you?"
As if I'd just stabbed her with a blunt pair of scissors, she looked mildly hurt, mostly baffled.
"Oh, I'm not Jewish. I'm a CHRISTIAN."
I assured her I had not been out to offend, I was merely returning the greeting that had been extended to me. She then informed me that I just "looked Jewish." And then tried to talk to me about her new salon and ask me to send her my "clients."
Note to people forced to solicit and cold call: probably not best to make broad, sweeping generalized comments and potentially offend would be business partners. Also, get the lingo straight. I work in a hotel, therefore I have guests, not clients. Lucky for her, being told I "look Jewish" doesn't offend me but I still doubt she'll see any of my guests darken her door. Pure silliness, y'all.
File this one under "I love people."
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
I've been shot!
And I don't know what I'm good at
but I'm better at wrong than at right
but come my turn, baby like bourbon I'll burn
under the stage's bright lights...
My heart is a little heavy lately. I'm not entirely happy and some days, I'm not at all happy. I'm not particularly fond of this side of me, so I'm working to fix this. There will be some major changes taken place soon. (Most of you can probably guess precisely what that means. It's true. It's time.)
But you know what makes me obnoxiously happy? Having had the opportunity to work with a photographer whose work I've admired for YEARS (and who I'm lucky enough to call a friend). The shoot was incredible and I am blown away by Valerie's talent, abilities, and artistic eye. So to commemorate 4 years in the City That Never Sleeps, and to freshen up my headshots in the event I step back onto the stage anytime soon...
but I'm better at wrong than at right
but come my turn, baby like bourbon I'll burn
under the stage's bright lights...
My heart is a little heavy lately. I'm not entirely happy and some days, I'm not at all happy. I'm not particularly fond of this side of me, so I'm working to fix this. There will be some major changes taken place soon. (Most of you can probably guess precisely what that means. It's true. It's time.)
But you know what makes me obnoxiously happy? Having had the opportunity to work with a photographer whose work I've admired for YEARS (and who I'm lucky enough to call a friend). The shoot was incredible and I am blown away by Valerie's talent, abilities, and artistic eye. So to commemorate 4 years in the City That Never Sleeps, and to freshen up my headshots in the event I step back onto the stage anytime soon...
File this under "One of the coolest things I have ever done." And check out Valerie's work - she'd be happy to "shoot" you too! Valerie's Website / Valerie's Blog
Sunday, November 7, 2010
New York, quit callin'. New York, leave me be.
I’m leaving New York.
Not (necessarily) anytime soon. No immediate plans have been made. Plenty of notice will be given and tears shed when it’s time. But it’s inevitable. One day, I’m leaving New York.
Recent life events do make me think it might be sooner rather than later though, so I think it’s high time to make a NYC Bucket List. Because there is a LOT I have done in my time here, but a few very important things I have not.
In no particular order…
1) Camp out, secure tickets, and get into a taping for SNL. (Or at least the dress rehearsal.) This was attempted once, about a year and a half ago. It was the season finale, with Justin Timberlake. It poured rain all night and I absolutely cannot remember ever being so miserable. To top it all off, only the first person in line got in that night. I’ll camp out again in a heartbeat but NEVER if rain is predicted.
2) Go to Ellis Island / Statue of Liberty. Correct. I tell tourists how to make this happen every single day and yet, I’ve never been. What? I’m a local. Locals know to ride the (free) Staten Island Ferry instead.
3) Attend a show in every single Broadway house. I just checked. I’m only missing two. Which means I’m going to be seeing Addams Family (Lunt-Fontanne) and A Free Man of Color (Vivian Beaumont) sometime in the future.
4) Go to the Opera. Because I am very classy and sophisticated.
5) Go to a Yankees, a Knicks, and a Rangers game. Because I’ve already got the Giants and the Mets under my belt, and since the Giants and Jets share a stadium, I only have to go to one. (Roll Tide. Sorry. That really is the only team that’s important to me.)
6) Take a trip to the Adirondacks. They’re close(ish). I should get on that. I like nature.
7) Buy something at Tiffany. Even if it’s “only” a keychain.
8) Frequent at least a few more top notch restaurants and order off the Chef’s Tasting Menus. Partially because Le Bernadin proved it’s OH SO WORTH IT and also because the more $200 meals I partake in now, the more I’ll squeal with delight over prices when I’m safely back down in the dirty.
9) Spend a night at The Plaza. Attend high tea at the Palm Court AND order room service for breakfast. (And look for Eloise. I love her.)
10) Take at least one more acting class. Or at the very least, a workshop or intensive. Remember acting and how it was why I moved here and then found a hundred other reasons to stay, instead?
New Yorkers and New York lovers…is there anything I missed?
It’s kind of fun and terribly exciting to think that this time next year, I could very well be living somewhere entirely different…
Friday, October 8, 2010
Van Buren, why do you have to be such a MOTHER F*CKER!
Holy. Crap.
I have a tremendous new crush.
On this man.
And the entire cast, crew, and anyone touching anything having to do with the musical in which he is currently starring.
Most are calling it emo, but I'd consider it almost gothic. Broadway's newest Emo (Gothic) Rock Opera about America's 7th President, presented with not entirely true factoids and haunting parallels to modern-day government. How could this possibly go wrong? In a world where American Idols, fallen has-beens and remakes of ridiculous Hollywood triumphs and flops seem to rule the Great White Way, it is SO REFRESHING to see and hear and experience something entirely new. A contemporary look at early American history - I likes it a LOT.
Because it all works. Every second is beautifully scripted, brilliantly directed, effortlessly acted, and yet somehow nothing feels contrived or rehearsed. This is a show that is literally bursting at the seams, every moment, every move, every second full of something new and absurd. Just like every show I've ever raved about before, this is one that knows its audience and appreciates, but never apologizes for, its place. If I had to complain about anything, it would be the unmemorable music and often lackluster lyrics, but I was too busy loving everything else to let that bother me too terribly much. (Oddly enough, I recognized some of the chord progressions and a quick check in my playbill revealed why - it was written by Michael Friedman who also penned Gone Missing which is probably one of the other best shows I've ever seen. Take THAT, musical snobbery! pwned!)
I plan to groupie the hell out of this show. And hopefully, eventually, work up the courage to stage door Benjamin Walker. Yum.
I have a tremendous new crush.
On this man.
And the entire cast, crew, and anyone touching anything having to do with the musical in which he is currently starring.
Sexypants, indeed. And sexy lead, sexy supporting cast, sexy set, sexy lights, sexy props, sexy script, sexy music, sexy costumes, sexy musicians, sexy ideas, sexy levels of complete and total utter ridiculousness. Sexy sexy sexy. I have never in my life been surrounded by so much sexy.
See?
Most are calling it emo, but I'd consider it almost gothic. Broadway's newest Emo (Gothic) Rock Opera about America's 7th President, presented with not entirely true factoids and haunting parallels to modern-day government. How could this possibly go wrong? In a world where American Idols, fallen has-beens and remakes of ridiculous Hollywood triumphs and flops seem to rule the Great White Way, it is SO REFRESHING to see and hear and experience something entirely new. A contemporary look at early American history - I likes it a LOT.
Because it all works. Every second is beautifully scripted, brilliantly directed, effortlessly acted, and yet somehow nothing feels contrived or rehearsed. This is a show that is literally bursting at the seams, every moment, every move, every second full of something new and absurd. Just like every show I've ever raved about before, this is one that knows its audience and appreciates, but never apologizes for, its place. If I had to complain about anything, it would be the unmemorable music and often lackluster lyrics, but I was too busy loving everything else to let that bother me too terribly much. (Oddly enough, I recognized some of the chord progressions and a quick check in my playbill revealed why - it was written by Michael Friedman who also penned Gone Missing which is probably one of the other best shows I've ever seen. Take THAT, musical snobbery! pwned!)
I plan to groupie the hell out of this show. And hopefully, eventually, work up the courage to stage door Benjamin Walker. Yum.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Baby you'll be famous, chase you down until you love me
I "ran" a 5k this weekend.
I came in 2038th. Or, 8th from last.
Now's the part where I try and soothe my bruised ego and remind myself that I didn't exactly try my hardest or give it my all, that I walked when I could very well have run, that I sat on top of the cargo nets and stared down in fear for too long, that I barely broke a sweat, that I found it more important to cross the finish line with Megan than cross it alone. Could I have done better? Yup. Is that an excuse that doesn't matter because in the end, all that counts is what actually happened instead of what you say should have? Uh huh.
But was this my last 5k?
Not in the least. The good news is, the whole point of training for the course was to knock my weight loss out of its 3 year hiatus and get things moving again, which I feel I did. And. I kind of WANT to keep running and not out of obligation or dread, but because I might be starting to like it. Weird, right?
Doing this 5k taught me that if I could change anything about myself, I wouldn't be such a 'fraidy cat about not at all scary things and I especially wouldn't be so afraid of doing things alone. And that if I'm not careful, I'm going to quickly become one of those people that receives eye rolls and hears "you're all talk, no action."
I don't want to ever be a spectator in my own life and spend all my time thinking about what could have been or should be. This weekend, I remembered once again that I really to need to learn how to be present. Be here now.
Thankfully, this weekend was so much more than the course. I needed to get out of New York City and away from work and rudeness and neediness and the noise and the rancid trash and the subway and my life and everything else that was giving me the urge to throw punches and hissy fits. I spent too much money at Wal*Mart. And Target. I didn't fix my hair or put on makeup for 3 straight days and oddly enough, didn't mind. I played with puff paint. I had a lovely night in (near) Boston with Kim and played Phase 10, and then followed the race with an entirely spontaneous trip to Maine. Why? We had a car, 2 more days off work, and a free place to stay. Why not go eat lobster and wear sweatpants and get to see stars?
Y'all. I miss seeing stars and feeling grass between my toes and Wal*Mart and roadtrips. I miss a lot of things that NYC can't exactly give me...
Then again, NYC is still very much my present so perhaps I'd best learn to appreciate it for what it is instead of resenting it because it's not what I wish it could be which is basically a metaphor for my entire life, really. (There were a lot of unnecessary words in that last sentence. Forgive me?)
I came in 2038th. Or, 8th from last.
Now's the part where I try and soothe my bruised ego and remind myself that I didn't exactly try my hardest or give it my all, that I walked when I could very well have run, that I sat on top of the cargo nets and stared down in fear for too long, that I barely broke a sweat, that I found it more important to cross the finish line with Megan than cross it alone. Could I have done better? Yup. Is that an excuse that doesn't matter because in the end, all that counts is what actually happened instead of what you say should have? Uh huh.
But was this my last 5k?
Not in the least. The good news is, the whole point of training for the course was to knock my weight loss out of its 3 year hiatus and get things moving again, which I feel I did. And. I kind of WANT to keep running and not out of obligation or dread, but because I might be starting to like it. Weird, right?
Doing this 5k taught me that if I could change anything about myself, I wouldn't be such a 'fraidy cat about not at all scary things and I especially wouldn't be so afraid of doing things alone. And that if I'm not careful, I'm going to quickly become one of those people that receives eye rolls and hears "you're all talk, no action."
I don't want to ever be a spectator in my own life and spend all my time thinking about what could have been or should be. This weekend, I remembered once again that I really to need to learn how to be present. Be here now.
Thankfully, this weekend was so much more than the course. I needed to get out of New York City and away from work and rudeness and neediness and the noise and the rancid trash and the subway and my life and everything else that was giving me the urge to throw punches and hissy fits. I spent too much money at Wal*Mart. And Target. I didn't fix my hair or put on makeup for 3 straight days and oddly enough, didn't mind. I played with puff paint. I had a lovely night in (near) Boston with Kim and played Phase 10, and then followed the race with an entirely spontaneous trip to Maine. Why? We had a car, 2 more days off work, and a free place to stay. Why not go eat lobster and wear sweatpants and get to see stars?
Y'all. I miss seeing stars and feeling grass between my toes and Wal*Mart and roadtrips. I miss a lot of things that NYC can't exactly give me...
Then again, NYC is still very much my present so perhaps I'd best learn to appreciate it for what it is instead of resenting it because it's not what I wish it could be which is basically a metaphor for my entire life, really. (There were a lot of unnecessary words in that last sentence. Forgive me?)
Friday, September 10, 2010
And if you're gonna love me, you're gonna deal with my fire
Dear God,
I know we don't talk nearly enough, so it might be a little gauche to do so now in so public a forum. But it worked pretty nicely for Liz Gilbert in Eat, Pray, Love and now she's got a movie about her life experiences and she's played by Julia Roberts so I guess it can't be all that bad. But I'm not asking for a national bestseller, or an A-list celebrity to play me in a C-grade movie or anything. I just wanted to address something with you, and I kind of wanted anyone who visits my corner of cyberspace to be fully aware of my awe for you right now.
Today, I worked (and I mean WORKED) for 11 hours straight. I ate nothing but a luna bar and went 8 hours without peeing. (Hey. My corner of cyberspace, my talk with God, I get to share what I want to.) I left work nearly an hour and a half after I was supposed to, and about 20 minutes after I intended to. And when I got off the subway I ignored the serious hot melty cheese craving attack and went to Subway, because I am on a diet afterall and pizza period but especially on an empty stomach with a crashed metabolism probably would have been a bad idea. (I'm not apologizing for the Doritos instead of Bakes Lays, though.)
As I left Subway and rounded the corner towards home, I was greeted by a police van and 6 cop cars, with about 15 cops detaining 2 men against a Mustang. (The car, not the horse. Like this blog needs to get any weirder.) And because it's New York, the streets were lined with onlookers, all mumbling about whatever rumble had apparently just gone down. So thank you, God, for keeping me nice and occupied in Manhattan and safely out of harm's way in Queens. And thank you for letting me go hungry today and then giving me the will power to make the right food decision instead of the wrong one, because not only will the 5k be that much easier, but I'm kind of glad as much time as possible was placed between me and the cops' arrival. And thank you for letting me see the end of whatever meltdown that was so that I could once more be reminded that time and again, I am saved by your grace.
And while I'm on the thank-you tangent, thank you for the drunk men in plaid pink suits that danced around and hugged me and sang Christmas jingles in the middle of the crowded hotel lobby, and then tried to coax me into the limousine I had called for them so that we could all go to the shooting range I was able to locate for them. I hope they're safe and happy tonight. New York City truly is a magical place filled with ridiculous people and every day is an opportunity to live more stories to share. Thank you for leading me here.
Also, thank you for knowing underneath all the sass in this blog and angst currently in my heart, I really do love you.
Yours forever,
Alison
I know we don't talk nearly enough, so it might be a little gauche to do so now in so public a forum. But it worked pretty nicely for Liz Gilbert in Eat, Pray, Love and now she's got a movie about her life experiences and she's played by Julia Roberts so I guess it can't be all that bad. But I'm not asking for a national bestseller, or an A-list celebrity to play me in a C-grade movie or anything. I just wanted to address something with you, and I kind of wanted anyone who visits my corner of cyberspace to be fully aware of my awe for you right now.
Today, I worked (and I mean WORKED) for 11 hours straight. I ate nothing but a luna bar and went 8 hours without peeing. (Hey. My corner of cyberspace, my talk with God, I get to share what I want to.) I left work nearly an hour and a half after I was supposed to, and about 20 minutes after I intended to. And when I got off the subway I ignored the serious hot melty cheese craving attack and went to Subway, because I am on a diet afterall and pizza period but especially on an empty stomach with a crashed metabolism probably would have been a bad idea. (I'm not apologizing for the Doritos instead of Bakes Lays, though.)
As I left Subway and rounded the corner towards home, I was greeted by a police van and 6 cop cars, with about 15 cops detaining 2 men against a Mustang. (The car, not the horse. Like this blog needs to get any weirder.) And because it's New York, the streets were lined with onlookers, all mumbling about whatever rumble had apparently just gone down. So thank you, God, for keeping me nice and occupied in Manhattan and safely out of harm's way in Queens. And thank you for letting me go hungry today and then giving me the will power to make the right food decision instead of the wrong one, because not only will the 5k be that much easier, but I'm kind of glad as much time as possible was placed between me and the cops' arrival. And thank you for letting me see the end of whatever meltdown that was so that I could once more be reminded that time and again, I am saved by your grace.
And while I'm on the thank-you tangent, thank you for the drunk men in plaid pink suits that danced around and hugged me and sang Christmas jingles in the middle of the crowded hotel lobby, and then tried to coax me into the limousine I had called for them so that we could all go to the shooting range I was able to locate for them. I hope they're safe and happy tonight. New York City truly is a magical place filled with ridiculous people and every day is an opportunity to live more stories to share. Thank you for leading me here.
Also, thank you for knowing underneath all the sass in this blog and angst currently in my heart, I really do love you.
Yours forever,
Alison
Sunday, September 5, 2010
At times I feel myself smiling, at times I'm not. Doo doo doo doo.
The calls for a new blog post have started to roll in again. Ah, to be popular.
So I guess the first bit of big news is I've signed up for my first 5k. And not just any 5k. Allow me to walk you through it (pun intended). First, there will be some running through the wilderness, followed by cargo nets. More running, then some "island hopping" through cold and muddy water. Running. Mud. Running. Cold muddy water. Running. Tire jungle. Running. 7 foot barricades. Running. Tunnels. Running through the forest. Running. Tunnels. Running. Running up a large hill. Running. LEAPING OVER FIRE.
Finish line.
My training has turned from mmmm, doesn't yoga feel good? to mmmmyeahyoga plus serious cargo plus things that make my arms and shoulders go OW. OW OW OW OW OW OW OW. Megan and I have started Couch 2 5K which is helping a LOT. I still just don't think I'm ever going to be "a runner" but I do think I'll survive this course without dying of a heart attack. Nothing to kick-start my dormant metabolism like training for (and executing) a course designed by Navy Seals, right?
Sigh. Now that I've led with the big news, anything else I say is going to seem pretty wussy and weak. In short: work crazy, cat cute, Autumn arriving, diet succeeding and FOOTBALL SEASON IS HERE. Basically, I couldn't be anymore giddy over this time of year. Between the new Broadway shows to look forward to, the better weather, and Saturdays filled with the best sport (and team) ever, I have a lot to look forward to. And then, without time to recharge, it'll be time for holiday season and all the chaos (and joy) it brings. I am literally breathless with anticipation.
Or perhaps, just breathless from all the running.
And now, I'll leave you with some pictures from a lovely Monday spent at the beach. Adieu, Summer. I am SO glad to see you go.
So I guess the first bit of big news is I've signed up for my first 5k. And not just any 5k. Allow me to walk you through it (pun intended). First, there will be some running through the wilderness, followed by cargo nets. More running, then some "island hopping" through cold and muddy water. Running. Mud. Running. Cold muddy water. Running. Tire jungle. Running. 7 foot barricades. Running. Tunnels. Running through the forest. Running. Tunnels. Running. Running up a large hill. Running. LEAPING OVER FIRE.
Finish line.
My training has turned from mmmm, doesn't yoga feel good? to mmmmyeahyoga plus serious cargo plus things that make my arms and shoulders go OW. OW OW OW OW OW OW OW. Megan and I have started Couch 2 5K which is helping a LOT. I still just don't think I'm ever going to be "a runner" but I do think I'll survive this course without dying of a heart attack. Nothing to kick-start my dormant metabolism like training for (and executing) a course designed by Navy Seals, right?
Sigh. Now that I've led with the big news, anything else I say is going to seem pretty wussy and weak. In short: work crazy, cat cute, Autumn arriving, diet succeeding and FOOTBALL SEASON IS HERE. Basically, I couldn't be anymore giddy over this time of year. Between the new Broadway shows to look forward to, the better weather, and Saturdays filled with the best sport (and team) ever, I have a lot to look forward to. And then, without time to recharge, it'll be time for holiday season and all the chaos (and joy) it brings. I am literally breathless with anticipation.
Or perhaps, just breathless from all the running.
And now, I'll leave you with some pictures from a lovely Monday spent at the beach. Adieu, Summer. I am SO glad to see you go.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
I wanna go back to my room and find a message in dry erase pen on the door.
Dear Baby Bro,
I don't like to make pointless guarantees and empty promises, but mark my words: today is a Very. Big. Day. First and foremost, congratulations on making it 18 years without choking or being choked by our darling parents. No one else on the planet understands this feat quite like I do.
Ten years ago, we parked cargo van in our front yard, and loaded it with suitcases and yaffa blocks, coordinating sheets and throw rugs, communal bathroom supplies, an 8 year old you and an 18 year old me. I can't believe it's your turn, though something tells me your move to college will be much simpler and less dramatic. (But that's pretty much par for the course, and a key difference between you and me.) Speaking as the elder sibling, I'd now like to load you up with some advice that will help you navigate through the next four years (and probably beyond) successfully.
1) Parties are great. DDs are better.
2) Speaking of drinking, the myths are true. Tequila is always bad, but especially if the night began with Natty Light.
3) Speaking of Natty Light, always spend the extra money for better beer.
4) Enough about drinking. Go to class. Seriously. Go to class.
5) No one works best under pressure. It's just a lie we all tell ourselves so we don't feel quite so pathetic for procrastinating.
6) Make new friends. Don't forget about the ones you already have, but make new ones, too.
(Sidebar: Mom just called as they drove home. They're child-free for the first time in 28 years. Let the celebrating AND the empty nest syndrome set in.)
7) Speaking of Mom calling, call her. She won't hover, but she will be curious what you're up to and it would be nice if you'd update her.
8) I am deeply jealous of you for going to a big university. Make the most of it. Promise me you'll go to as many football games as possible, when you're not busy running circles around the other track kids.
9) Please don't let your room, or especially your bathroom, smell like dude. Trust me, it's not manly. It's just gross. And for the love, change your sheets regularly - has Dad ever told you about his first college roommate?
10) Find the perfect greasy spoon, open 24 hours a day diner/coffee shop/whatever. Visit at least once a month, preferably between 11 PM and 3 AM. Some of your loudest laughs and happiest moments will take place inside.
11) Roadtrip. Best idea ever.
12) Remember your roots, but don't be afraid to grow new branches.
13) Take at least one class a year that has nothing to do with your major. And audit something that does but you don't necessarily need - you'll enjoy it more and apply it better.
14) Keep playing bass. Chicks will dig that.
15) Go to concerts but never, EVER wear a tshirt for the band playing, or a band you saw playing with the band playing.
16) Take complete and total advantage of being a student. Things are cheaper and easier because the world feels bad that you have to spend hours a day studying instead of working. Truth is, most of us no longer in school wish we still were so no pity should be involved. That being said - go on the trips offered, and take the discounts available.
17) Don't fall in love in the first 2 years.
18) Don't be afraid to ask for help. In life, in class, in any challenge you encounter. No one expects you to go at this world alone and people are generally willing to help if they know you need it.
19) Life never ever ever works out like you planned. Stop putting energy into planning it and start being ready to just live whatever is thrown your way.
20) You are loved.
And above all else, study hard and have fun. Blink and it will all be over. These will be some of the best years of your life, but only if you never take yourself all that seriously.
Of course, to me, you will always be my little Evie-Boo-Boo, lover of M&Ms, fly-feet, Trains Planes and Automobiles, and Buzz Lightyear.
Roll Tide Roll,
Your Big Sis
I don't like to make pointless guarantees and empty promises, but mark my words: today is a Very. Big. Day. First and foremost, congratulations on making it 18 years without choking or being choked by our darling parents. No one else on the planet understands this feat quite like I do.
Ten years ago, we parked cargo van in our front yard, and loaded it with suitcases and yaffa blocks, coordinating sheets and throw rugs, communal bathroom supplies, an 8 year old you and an 18 year old me. I can't believe it's your turn, though something tells me your move to college will be much simpler and less dramatic. (But that's pretty much par for the course, and a key difference between you and me.) Speaking as the elder sibling, I'd now like to load you up with some advice that will help you navigate through the next four years (and probably beyond) successfully.
1) Parties are great. DDs are better.
2) Speaking of drinking, the myths are true. Tequila is always bad, but especially if the night began with Natty Light.
3) Speaking of Natty Light, always spend the extra money for better beer.
4) Enough about drinking. Go to class. Seriously. Go to class.
5) No one works best under pressure. It's just a lie we all tell ourselves so we don't feel quite so pathetic for procrastinating.
6) Make new friends. Don't forget about the ones you already have, but make new ones, too.
(Sidebar: Mom just called as they drove home. They're child-free for the first time in 28 years. Let the celebrating AND the empty nest syndrome set in.)
7) Speaking of Mom calling, call her. She won't hover, but she will be curious what you're up to and it would be nice if you'd update her.
8) I am deeply jealous of you for going to a big university. Make the most of it. Promise me you'll go to as many football games as possible, when you're not busy running circles around the other track kids.
9) Please don't let your room, or especially your bathroom, smell like dude. Trust me, it's not manly. It's just gross. And for the love, change your sheets regularly - has Dad ever told you about his first college roommate?
10) Find the perfect greasy spoon, open 24 hours a day diner/coffee shop/whatever. Visit at least once a month, preferably between 11 PM and 3 AM. Some of your loudest laughs and happiest moments will take place inside.
11) Roadtrip. Best idea ever.
12) Remember your roots, but don't be afraid to grow new branches.
13) Take at least one class a year that has nothing to do with your major. And audit something that does but you don't necessarily need - you'll enjoy it more and apply it better.
14) Keep playing bass. Chicks will dig that.
15) Go to concerts but never, EVER wear a tshirt for the band playing, or a band you saw playing with the band playing.
16) Take complete and total advantage of being a student. Things are cheaper and easier because the world feels bad that you have to spend hours a day studying instead of working. Truth is, most of us no longer in school wish we still were so no pity should be involved. That being said - go on the trips offered, and take the discounts available.
17) Don't fall in love in the first 2 years.
18) Don't be afraid to ask for help. In life, in class, in any challenge you encounter. No one expects you to go at this world alone and people are generally willing to help if they know you need it.
19) Life never ever ever works out like you planned. Stop putting energy into planning it and start being ready to just live whatever is thrown your way.
20) You are loved.
And above all else, study hard and have fun. Blink and it will all be over. These will be some of the best years of your life, but only if you never take yourself all that seriously.
Of course, to me, you will always be my little Evie-Boo-Boo, lover of M&Ms, fly-feet, Trains Planes and Automobiles, and Buzz Lightyear.
Roll Tide Roll,
Your Big Sis
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Rock on, rock on with your fashionable frown
Despite what my previous post may have suggested, I'm fine. Not crushed or depressed or in a bad place or anything. I mostly just needed to vent and to remember cliches are overused for a reason and that I'm not the only one who's ever felt this way and that I (hopefully) won't feel like this forever.
Oh and also, that no man is worth the tears and the one who is won't make me cry. Whoops. Sorry. Had to slide one more in.
I've rejoined both match.com and okcupid recently. And this time I think I'll be a little more open to dating for the sake of dating than dating for the sake of sensing immediate sparks, getting married, and having babies. Safer approach, yes?
Work is insane right now. Not bad, just busy. (And if it's like this now, I'm a little terrified for November/December.) I have a 60 hour week waiting in the wings, and at first I was nervous but if I just focus and take it day by day, I'm pretty sure it won't be the end of the world. Instead of eating like crap and not exercising enough, I've decided to up the yoga to twice a day and try a new diet. Don't worry, nothing quick, no fads. Just a really basic, simple, common sense approach. You see, I went to the doctor and she recommended a little something called the Rainbow Diet. The key thing to remember? White isn't anywhere in the rainbow. So, no white bread, sugar, salt, etc. She also recommended I cut back on my dairy intake which...well. I refuse to ever stop eating cheese but ok, I can eliminate a little milk and yogurt if I have to. She wants me on rice or almond milk, neither of which I'm crazy about, so we're compromising on one serving of soymilk a day.
Best part? She told me, specifically, to eat a lot of pineapple. Confused? Please direct your attention to the web address of this very blog. Yup. Eat a lot of pineapple? I got this, Doc. I'm a little concerned that the diet is relatively fruit heavy and lacking in veggies, protein and carbs but...we'll see? I'm pretty sure eating lettuce, fresh fruit, and chicken all week isn't exactly going to make me gain.
For the first time in my life, I have been silent for over 24 hours by my own choice. (I've done it several times before due to necessity, or double-dog dares.) It's been lovely. I think I'm going to enforce one Mute Sunday per month, in addition to the No Pants Sunday rule already very much present each week. Mmmmm. Good idea, me.
Oh and also, that no man is worth the tears and the one who is won't make me cry. Whoops. Sorry. Had to slide one more in.
I've rejoined both match.com and okcupid recently. And this time I think I'll be a little more open to dating for the sake of dating than dating for the sake of sensing immediate sparks, getting married, and having babies. Safer approach, yes?
Work is insane right now. Not bad, just busy. (And if it's like this now, I'm a little terrified for November/December.) I have a 60 hour week waiting in the wings, and at first I was nervous but if I just focus and take it day by day, I'm pretty sure it won't be the end of the world. Instead of eating like crap and not exercising enough, I've decided to up the yoga to twice a day and try a new diet. Don't worry, nothing quick, no fads. Just a really basic, simple, common sense approach. You see, I went to the doctor and she recommended a little something called the Rainbow Diet. The key thing to remember? White isn't anywhere in the rainbow. So, no white bread, sugar, salt, etc. She also recommended I cut back on my dairy intake which...well. I refuse to ever stop eating cheese but ok, I can eliminate a little milk and yogurt if I have to. She wants me on rice or almond milk, neither of which I'm crazy about, so we're compromising on one serving of soymilk a day.
Best part? She told me, specifically, to eat a lot of pineapple. Confused? Please direct your attention to the web address of this very blog. Yup. Eat a lot of pineapple? I got this, Doc. I'm a little concerned that the diet is relatively fruit heavy and lacking in veggies, protein and carbs but...we'll see? I'm pretty sure eating lettuce, fresh fruit, and chicken all week isn't exactly going to make me gain.
For the first time in my life, I have been silent for over 24 hours by my own choice. (I've done it several times before due to necessity, or double-dog dares.) It's been lovely. I think I'm going to enforce one Mute Sunday per month, in addition to the No Pants Sunday rule already very much present each week. Mmmmm. Good idea, me.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
I could really use a wish right now.
In the wake of my most recent boy-crazy fueled disaster (seriously, why do I even bother believing anymore?) I've had a whole slew of words of wisdom, friends' advice, song lyrics and cliches running rampant through my head. Of course, seeing that I'm the one home alone with my cat on a Saturday night, wearing a t-shirt I've had at least 10 years, eating Chinese takeout, watching chick flicks and brooding over my stupid mouth, I guess I'm the real cliche here.
And now I'm going to put all these words and lyrics out into the world in hopes they're true and I'll listen next time. Hell, here's hoping I'll listen THIS time, as I'm not exactly out of the woods just yet.
love hurts
love bites
I find a fatal flaw in the logic of love
Love is never having to say you're sorry
Everything happens for a reason
How many times can I break till I shatter?
Time heals all wounds
But time takes time, you know?
You're better off without him
Boy, you're better off with me in your head.
He doesn't deserve you
It'll happen when it happens
I just haven't met you yet.
He's just not that into you.
Shit happens
I'm tired of being alone. So hurry up and get here.
Whatever will be, will be
Let it be.
It is what it is
Let it ride. Let it roll, let it go.
Love many, trust few, and always paddle your own canoe.
love conquers all
Love conquers all
Love conquers all
Love conquers all.
(Never say never.)
And when you figure out love is all that matters after all, it sure makes everything else seem so small.
The funny thing about hope is that it's inextinguishable.
You see, sometimes I'm a woman and sometimes, a mess.
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