Sledding in Central Park

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Sometimes you have one of those weeks

After almost 6 months, things with FD3 have come to an end. In January, when he said we were in different places in the relationship I thought he meant I was more invested and he was just "behind." It turns out that is not what he meant. Instead, he was done and I wasn't ready to let go. The worst part is that the few weeks after that were some of the best. I suppose I still knew the end was coming.

Logically, I'm fine. Emotionally, I'm still a bit of a mess. There's pretty much no way to take it except personally when someone tells you they don't see a future in something. Why not? What's wrong with me? What did I do? Yeah, I know it's not my fault. Doesn't help. Like I said, logically I'm fine. I know it's that we're not right together. That we can still be friends. That there are other guys. That I won't be alone forever. That I deserve better. Still sucks.

We awkwardly saw each other once so far after the break up. He brought the stuff I left at his place to my office. Not the most ideal place for trading stuff. It was made even worse by the fact that I was having one of the most stressful weeks of work ever and that my dog was put to sleep the day before. That's right, work was hell, my boyfriend and I broke up, and my childhood dog died all within the same week. And then I got sick. I think it was my bodies way of letting go for just a bit - stop thinking and stop pushing or you'll get really sick.

I'll be ok soon. I just need some time to grieve a bit and feel sorry for myself. I have friends to lean on, and I've definitely been leaning. I just feel like I've lost one the ones I want to lean on.

Winter Storm of 2009

It's 12:30 AM on Sunday morning. I found out about an hour and a half ago my flight for tomorrow was cancelled. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, I've been on hold pretty much ever since. All the numbers on Delta's website were worthless: each produced that weird noise when the line is dead. Finally I get through, wait on hold for 20 minutes, talk to someone about getting on a new flight, and I've been on hold ever since waiting for it to be confirmed.

My super is outside shoveling the sidewalk, but it's still snowing. Hard. Without any sign of stopping. They say it's supposed to stop early in the morning, which is why I'm extra annoyed that my flight was already cancelled. That, and the only way I found out was by looking online. No phone call - can you imagine the customer service that would entail? God forbid they make human contact and call me to say my flight was cancelled. E-mail? Nope. Text? Nope. Go online and magically see that it's cancelled? Yup.

Thanks, Delta. I appreciate it.

I'm now confirmed on a flight for Thursday, December 24 out of JFK with not one, but two connections. Oh you originally paid extra for a direct flight? Sorry.

Ugh. I'm tired.

Passing Time

It's funny how time passes. For the most part, my days run into weeks which run into months and then into years. There are certain moments, however, I can pinpoint to a specific year and season. When I'm lucky I can narrow it to a specific day.

Last August, I moved to NYC (that's not news, I know) but I still remember thinking I was out of my mind when I was riding into the city for the first time with all of my stuff with me. Every time I took a cab home after that I remembered that moment and chuckled to myself. At some point in the last few months, I stopped thinking about that first ride into the city when I was in a cab. I noticed it last week, and, honestly, I was a little sad. I'm sure it's a good thing, that it means I'm more settled here, but I don't know when I stopped thinking about it. It's just a strange realization.

In other measures of time, FD3 and I have been dating for almost two months. Obviously I'm not about to break any world records in terms of relationship length or anything, but it's fun having a new way to mark time. I promise I'm not one of those people who celebrates minor "anniversaries." I just happen to remember because we first went out in the middle of the month. Anyways, things are good. I'm having fun with him. Fortunately, I don't call him FD3 to his face, but there are no new First Dates to talk about. FD3 and I have other firsts that we're trying out: first time meeting friends, first time being photographed together (for the NY Times! ), first time making dinner together. Well, I made dinner, but that was the first time in a long time that I made dinner for someone.

Last year at this time I was prepping to help coordinate 3000 interviews across the country. This year, my team is coordinating 5400 interviews. That's right; 1400 more interviews this time around. It's a busy season.

They say that as you get older, time passes more quickly. I just hope I remember that it only feels that way and that I still have time to do everything I want.

Adventures in Dating

So, at the encouragement of some friends, I decided to jump into the online dating world. Most people's lives are conducted online a majority of the time these days, so why not try dating?

The good thing about online dating is that it shows you, sure enough, there a lot of fish in the sea. When you live in New York, there are more options than say in Oxford, Mississippi so I think my dating experiment was probably a smart idea to try here. Anyways, within my first week online I set up my first date. By the end of a few days, I had 3 first dates lined up within a week of each other. There are a couple of strategies used to set up dates.

1. Strategy 1 - Quick banter back and forth and immediately set up a date because, really, how well can you get to know someone via e-mails back and forth? Pros: you get a date lined up quickly. Cons: perhaps the date is lined up a little too quickly with someone you probably wouldn't really be interested in. Alas, perhaps going out with someone I wouldn't normally be interested in is a good thing.
2. Strategy 2 - Slowly get to know someone via e-mails, then texts, then a date. (By slowly I mean over the course of a few days, not months.) Pros: you have a good sense of the person you will meet before you meet them. Cons: the process can drag out and you lose interest or become more interested in a different process in the meantime.

Anyways, I tried both strategies and have had a variety of dates.

First Date #1 - HORRENDOUS! So when FD1 called to set up a date we talked on the phone for about 10 minutes, and I should have noticed the flags then but I decided to ignore them. You see, I have this problem that I'm trying to overcome: whenever someone shows romantic interest in me I immediately find something wrong with him. I should have listened to my instincts on this one. So, FD1 and I decide to meet on a street corner with the intent of going to a bar for drinks. Street corner: Spring and 6th. Bar: We didn't have a plan. I got to the corner first and sat in the square until he showed up. I should have known right away it was a mistake. He had on dad jeans and white sneakers (again, the dad kind). Trying not to be my judgmental self I overlooked it. Meanwhile, he reenacted how he jammed his finger during jiu-jitsu class. (By the way, in his jiu-jitsu class they learn how to really hurt people, but they get to a point and then stop knowing they could really hurt the other person but won't. Of course you're not really going to hurt someone in class. Duh. That would just be mean.)

We decided to go get a drink, and he leads us in the direction of a bar. When I say lead, I mean he was a good 2 feet ahead of me when we were walking. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't have been able to keep up with how quickly he walked. And, he doesn't share the sidewalk. Now I admit, I have weird issues when it comes to walking with people. I really don't like walking through crowds, and I really don't like feeling crowded when it's just me and one other person. FD1 would not move over enough to share the sidewalk so that I was walking around trees and trashcans. At one point I slowed down my pace as well to see what would happen. He slowed for a second and then continued.

We get to a bar (he's very particular about the kind of bar) sit down and have a drink. I lead the conversation with questions that are never returned. (Not good to have a one sided conversation on a date.) As I wait for him to perhaps ask me something, I take a sip of my drink. As a result, I finish my beer more quickly than he does. As I neared the bottom, the bartender asked me if I wanted another. I told him I was ok at the moment. Then, my date chugs the remainder of his beer (about half) and announces, "I'm waiting for you now." Oh, ok. Uh, sure. Let's get another drink. After we get our second beer, he goes to the bathroom. When he returns he says, "I can tell you're having a good time." Oh yeah, how can you tell that? "You just look happy. And you would have left after the first beer if you weren't."

I toss this date to it being my first "blind" date and being inexperienced in how to handle the blind date experience. I should have left after the first beer. Really, I probably shouldn't have set up the date at all, but then I wouldn't have a story. Over the course of the night I learn he does everything with his parents. EVERYTHING. He's 30, has no friends because he "values quality over quantity." Buddy, we all value quality over quantity. Additionally, he lives at home. Why? Because he would miss his mom's cooking if he left.

Like I said, HORRENDOUS.

First Date #2 - First Date #2 was pretty good. We e-mailed back and forth a bit before heading into texting. We decided to meet at a wine bar on the Upper West Side. Sadly, when we got to the bar, it was closed for a private party. Instead we went to a bar around the corner and had a beer. Overall, the date went really well. We had a good conversation. Never any dead moments. He'd just gotten back from vacation in SC. (His family rented a house in Folly.) The date wasn't anything big to write home about, but enjoyable. Definitely a better first date than FD1.

First Date #3 - FD3 was a really good date. I had a lot of fun. Coincidentally, the first text (after e-mails) I got from FD3 was 30 minutes before I met up with FD2. He asked if I played pool. I do happen to play pool. I just play pool like someone who does it every few months are really doesn't know how to play. We decided to make a pool date for the following Saturday. FD3 actually knows how to play pool. In fact, he could watch how I was lining up a shot and tell me just how to position the pool stick to make the shot. Needless to say, I was impressed. FD3 was also the only one I kissed. (Ok, he may have gotten a few kisses. Like I said, it was a good date.) He's also the only one I've seen a second time.

At the moment I do not have any more first dates lined up. This might be a bad strategy, but I'm not good at dating multiple people at once. I'm curious to see what happens with FD3. While I may be shooting myself in the foot with this strategy, if FD3 turns out to not be for me I know there are other fish in the sea. And if the fish who are biting now aren't still there if things don't work out with FD3, then they aren't for me.

We shall see what happens. (By the way, a very interesting fact: all 3 dates have the same first initial, and FD1 and FD2 have the same name. Kind of weird, right?)

Cooling Off in the City

Summer usually means trying to find ways to cool off. I can't say it's been a hot summer in NYC, but that doesn't mean I've avoided finding ways to cool off.

By far, my new favorite treat is something very simple: Mister Softee dip cones. The pure simpleness of it amazes me. There are two reasons I love this treat.

1. Mister is spelled out. I don't know why, but it makes my ice cream that much better.
2. It's soft serve ice cream out of the back of a truck. What can be better than especially once dipped in chocolate?

We southern kids know what ice cream trucks are, don't worry. There weren't many that came through my neighborhood, I'll admit, but I knew what they were. A regular ice cream truck, however, cannot compete with an ice cream truck. It might play music, but all it has is ice cream on a stick or popsicles. Delicious, yes. Softserve ice cream delicousness? Not quite there. There's many combinations to made with Mister Softee, but I'm sticking to the dip cone. Or maybe chocolate sprinkles. Hmmmmm.

The second treat: Pinkberry. It's not ice cream. It's not frozen yogurt. It's not even good. It's literally frozen yogurt, and I'm addicted. The first time I went to Pinkberry I truly thought it was gross. I had no idea what to expect. I now crave it on a regular basis. The fancy flavors I can do without. All I need is a small original with blackberries and raspberries. So good.

Finally, I'm holding out for a snowball stand in New York. Maybe I'll open one in Astoria. The Greeks can appreciate a snowball, right? And we really need to ban the snowcone stand in the Central Park Zoo. It's just gross.

The Lost Tribes of New York City from Carolyn London on Vimeo.

Knights vs. Rosie the Riveter

At some point on every Sunday I peruse the New York Times wedding section (online, of course). Each week a new couple is featured. They're always glamorous in some sort of way--not your average, everyday kind of couple. I'm not sure when I started reading the wedding announcements, but I continue because I'm a hopeless romantic. I may not seem like the hopeless romantic type, but deep down I am.

Ugh. Society send conflicting messages about what we, American women, should want. One message is that a knight in shining armor will come and save us from singledom. We, me and my knight in shining armor, will happily ever after. The second message is that we, women, do not need anyone to save us. That we are independent and happy without a romantic someone in our lives; we don't need Jerry Maguire's you complete me thoughts. There are definitely women that fall into one category are the other, but I fall somewhere in the middle which is completely frustrating. I don't think a man will save me from myself, but I do want one to woo me. Someone who won't complete me per se, but rather compliment me.

Bah. Sometimes it is hard to continue believing that I will find the right someone, the person I want. Alas, I try. Last week I had a dream that I got engaged. I don't think I ever saw my fiance's face, and if I did I don't know him. (I do remember that the ring was not my taste--very superficial of me, I know.) Last night I dreamt that I was getting married to someone I didn't know (both in real life and in my dream). Like the engagement dream, the man was not my focus. (This time it was the dress.) Obviously I'm not ready to be married. Nor do I have plans to be married in the near future. I'm just missing something right now, and whether it seems good or bad I think it's more of a someone than a something.

Bleh. I hate feeling out of control, but I want to be able to let go. As if that makes any sense.

Spotted . . .

Spotted today in Tompkins Square Park . . .

• 3 of New York's finest telling some kids to get off the grass (no pun intended).
• 1 pair of love birds (the kind without wings) up in an oak tree.
• 2 Buddhist monks in orange robes circling the park carrying, each carrying a small brown paper bag in his hand.
• 17 dogs in the dog park. There was a little dog side and a big dog side.

Spotted in Manhattan on Monday . . .

• Thousands of people wearing black (and gray).
• 1 person wearing yellow.

Spotted in Manhattan on Tuesday . . .

• Hundreds of people wearing green.
• The rest wore black.

Spotted everyday I go to work . . .

• The Empire State Building.
• Macy's (the one from Miracle on 34th Street).

I forget sometimes that I live in the city that I do, that millions of people come here to visit and see the sights. I don't take advantage of it nearly enough, and I am reminding myself now (through this blog) that I need to do so. With that said, I'm creating a list of things I need to do and see in New York. It will never be complete, but I hope that by writing it down I will hold myself to some of these things.

1. The Cloisters
2. Ellis Island/Statue of Liberty
   
3. Circle Line Cruise
4. Walk across the Brooklyn Bridge
5. Carriage ride through Central Park
6. Beer Garden
7. Museums (multiple)
8. 1/2 marathon
9. Paddleboats

Gray and the City

A dear friend of mine told me that after moving to NYC most girls' wardrobes evolve into tight, black clothes. Surely, he didn't mean this would happen to me. "All I'm saying is that I've seen it happen a lot," he said. These girls start off with bright, patterned clothes and slowly buy more and more of what is essentially the New York uniform: black and gray with a splash of brown and tan. Surely, it can't be true that New Yorkers only wear black. My mom must have exaggerated when she lamented about it. My dear friend had to be wishfully thinking that the colors fade (although why I'm not sure).

It turns out they were right. The uniform truly is a uniform. While riding the train to work one day this fall I noticed the riders sitting across from me: khaki pants, black pinstripes, brown dress, black skirt, etc. To the left black, to the right black. I looked down to my lap: hot pink cords. That's right, hot pink cords."Who is that girl and where is she from?" they must have wondered. (Well, maybe not. Most New Yorkers are so blase about everything that they probably didn't notice at all, but that's a different blog topic.) I have never seen another person in hot pink cords in New York. My heavy jacket, not coat, is pink as well, and you better believe I've definitely never seen a person in the city with a pink L.L.Bean jacket. I, however, love it and it keeps me warm. Hot even when I'm on the train.

My solemn vow is to not let all of my outfits turn into the NY uniform. I, who love pink and blue and purple and yellow, will not wear black everyday. I will not give up my color. I have a sense of possibility, and I will relentlessly pursue results. I'm on a one-woman mission to brighten NYC.

I must admit I had a little setback today, but even people who change their lives with 12-step programs sometimes have setbacks. Still, I went to Macy's today and bought a coat. It's color? Gray.

Know Your Audience

You probably know if you've read this blog before, but my dad's a priest. He's a really good one too. As a good priest, he preaches to his congregation at each church service with great enthusiasm. He would never preach at people, you know, like those people on the subway. One of the very many things that differentiates my dear father from those hell fire and brimstone people you see on the street is that he understands the importance of knowing his audience. If, for example, he decided to give a sermon in a subway car, he knows no one would listen. (And thank God, he would never do that either.) Instead, he might offer a small act of kindness: hold a car door open, offer a hand to someone who slipped. Little things that make others feel better, not inferior.

He knows his audience and he works with them to deliver the right message. That being said, my first night home for Christmas as we gathered around the table for dinner, he offered this blessing: Good food. Good meat. Good God. Let's Eat.

Like I said, he knows his audience. I love you Dad!

Overheard on a Sunday

Overheard in front of the Museum of Natural History . . .

Father: What do you want to see most in the museum.

Daughter (4 years old): I don't know [pause] . . . everything.

Father: We're probably going to have to wait in a line for a while.

Daughter: In a lion?

Father: [Laughs.] No, in a line.

The Greatest City in the World

I live in the most amazing city in the world. People from around the world travel to New York like it's Mecca. Fashion, culture, food, people - it's all here. Name a country, you can find someone from there. (It might be your cab driver, but, hey, he's living the dream.) Actors, actresses, singers, artists of all kinds - they come to make it big, to become a star. Broadway, films, galleries: they're on almost every corner. (Well, Broadway is on Broadway, but let's not get too specific.) Museums and sports, glam and rock, Wall Street and Harlem.

It's New York. Who can ask for anything more? Well, I jcan: where are the grits?

You can take the girl out of the South, but you can't take the South out of the girl.

3000

It's execution time at work this week. We're interviewing over 3000 people across the country. That's right, 3000. The crazy thing is there are 3 more interview periods this academic year and there will be even more people interviewed at each one.

Tweedling My Thumbs

It's Saturday afternoon, and I'm stuck at the office. I've been here since 9:00 this morning. I'm not complaining about working on a Saturday. It might seem like I'm complaining, but it's a differnt kind of complaint. The problem is not that I am at work on a Saturday. The problem is that I'm at work on a Saturday with nothing to do but wait and I have enough time to blog.

It's a beautiful day. Fall is here. The air is crisp, and I'm sitting in the office. Staring at a computer screen. I'm ready to be gone for the day.

What to Wear?

I don't know what to wear. I realize this is a problem most women think they have. They open their closets, pick through the thousands of dollars hanging inside, and debate what to put on. I admit I've done this. I still do this; however, my problem is more real now. Fall is upon us, winter is approaching, and I live some place where I can't wear flip flops year round for the first time in my life. I don't know what to do!

Ok, so I never lived in a place wear I could literally wear flip flops all year, but it was pretty close. SC - flip flops, NO - flip flops, MS - flip flops. NY - no flip flops. I need to buy some boots, and I think I have the pair picked out. We'll see.

As for clothes, I know I need to layer. I just don't want to look like a blob when I'm outside because of all the layers I wear. I suppose I'll have to pick the lesser of two evils, warmth or blob, depending on the situation. My biggest problem, other than footwear, is jackets and coats. I have the body type of thousands of other people in the world. Unfortunately, the fashion world hasn't caught on. Specifically - coats and jackets never fit me in the armpits. It might seem like an insignificant problem, but, trust me, it's horrendous in the winter. In order for something to fit in the armpits, not to mention over a sweater, I have to find something at least two sizes too big which then swallows the rest of me.

I will not let the cold temperatures beat me this winter, but I am a little worried. Don't get me wrong--It will be cold soon and I will freeze, but I will persevere (mostly by staying inside). Who knows? Maybe I'll love the cold weather. My guess is, however, that will not happen until hell freezes over.

Tourist Living in the City

Last weekend I moved into my first apartment outside of the South. To be more precise, I moved into an apartment in Astoria (Queens). I've lived in New York for a month now, and I'm not a single step closer to becoming a New Yorker. Don't worry, that's not my goal; I'm just very much a tourist who happens to live and work in New York. I hear you asking how that's possible. Trust me--it is. Let me elaborate . . .

On Tuesday morning I took got off the train and headed to work. My stop is 34th street. If you've been to New York, you know that there are usually multiple exits at each subway stop. The smaller ones might only have one, but often there's at least two. Signs point out whichever intersection you're exiting to and even which corner (e.g. Lexington Ave and 59th St. NW corner). Bigger subway stations have a multitude of options with exits on different streets and such. This particular Tuesday morning, I simply went out the nearest exit instead of walking underground to an exit closer to my office. As I got to the top of the stairs I noticed Macy's. "Nice," I thought, "I know where I am. There's Macy's, and I'm on 34th street." A light bulb went off in my head. "Wait a second, that's the Macy's on 34th street. Oh my God, Miracle on 34th Street." Yeah, I'm a nerd.

Thursday I left my karate class (oh yeah, I started taking a mixed martial arts class - I'm a white belt) and headed to the train to go home. I passed two Broadway shows and Times Square on my way to the train. It's so weird for that to be normal.

The hardest part of living in this city is passing beggars on the street. I don't like it. I want to help, but I don't know how. I know I'm supposed to donate to charities and not give cash to people, but it still sucks. It helps knowing that I work for an organization that's goal is to reduce educational inequity. It still doesn't make it easier passing people on the street though.

Other than that, life is good. I had lunch at Tiffany's today instead of breakfast. I'm learning the subways, sort of. (I will never understand the buses.) I have a very cute apartment (on par with my State Street one). I'm a fan of this place so far.

Dirt

I don't know how I blocked this from memory, but New York is dirty. More precisely, it makes me dirty. Literally. My hands are always dirty. I wash them obsessively. My nose is dirty too, and I'm not talking the outside. (I know that's gross but whatever. It's the truth.) Apparently, the feeling goes away and my body will adjust. In the meantime, I need to invest in some hand sanitizer.

The Update of Updates

On Thursday, July 31st, I picked up my 14 foot U-haul and packed all my stuff inside. Technically, Erich picked up the U-haul because I refused to drive a massive truck that would be towing my car and because Erich never gets to drive and so doesn't let me when he has access to a vehicle. I also want it on the record that I reserved a 10 foot U-haul which still would have been too big for all my stuff so 14 foot one was almost comical. Anyway, on August 1st I left Oxford, Mississippi never to live there again. Not never to visit necessarily, but I'm pretty sure I won't live there again. We drove all the way to my parents house in Columbia, a mere 518 miles, on Friday. The truck and the trailer with my car added two hours to our trip and hundreds of dollars more in gas, but whatcha gonna do? My parents had dinner ready for us when we got there - a feast of grilled salmon, asparagus, and orzo salad. It was delicious. Plus there were fresh peaches for dessert. My dad also shared the news that he accepted the position of priest-in-charge at our home church, so not only is he now employed, but also my parents don't have to move. Yay!

Day 2 - August 2 - Erich and I took our time leaving Columbia. I hung out with my parents as Kate slept on the couch. I said goodbye to my car as I left it in the care of my parents either to be sold or used by them. We headed off for the next leg of our journey in the early afternoon after my parents made sure we knew which gas station to go to for the cheapest gas. Like a good daughter, I indulged my parents and made sure to go to the cheapest gas station which was close, but not easily accessible (especially in a U-haul). We made a couple of minor stops - one for lunch at Groucho's (yum), one in Greensboro, NC to visit Erich's friend Julie, and then we headed on with our sights on New York (is that the right word or is it site or is it a different word entirely?). After an internal debate about whether to stop and spend the night in D.C. we saw the lights of NYC at 4am. It was then that my decision to move hit me. What the hell am I doing, I thought as I saw Manhattan from the BQE (that's the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway for those of you not in the know). At 5 am, we fell into bed after 737 miles on the road.

Day 3 - August 3 - You thought Day 2 ended it didn't you? Well, in typical Sarah and Erich fashion we incorporated the most retarded plans into my move. Instead of unloading my stuff into a storage facility in New York, we continued on to New Haven, Ct (home of Yale and Erich's mom who was gracious enough to let me store my stuff there until I find an apartment). We unloaded, spent the night in New Haven (or East Haven). It was an easy day - only 77 miles in the car.

Day 4 - August 4 - (Told you we make crazy plans.) What else could we possibly fit into a move to NYC? Why, a trip to Maine of course. We headed out in our rental car now that neither of us has a car and drove. And drove. And drove. And stopped in Freeport, Maine at the L.L.Bean store which is massive and advertises tons of free parking, but there's not nearly enough for all the people that go just for L.L.Bean. I got an xl canvas bag with my initials on it because I'm a nerd like that, Erich got some toys for his bike, and then we got back in the car. And drove. And drove. And drove until we got to Bar Harbor - 414 miles. Ugh.

Maine is beautiful, and everything I wanted it to be. We went on a whale watch, a lobster and seal watch, and to Acadia National Forest. By the way, you don't watch lobsters - everyone asks - we watched them pull up traps and then saw the lobsters. Did you know every resident of Maine is entitled to 5 lobster traps for their personal use? After 5 relaxing days, we headed back to New York. Last Monday, I started my job as the Operations Logistics Associate. The easiest way to explain my job is to say that I reserve all the sites for the TFA interviews across the country. That's 4 times a year x ~3 days each time x hundreds of cities.

I'm settling into life in New York which is to say that I'm not settled at all. I don't have an apartment and finding one is pretty much a pain in the ass. Fortunately, I amazing friends who let me stay with them. (Thank you, thank you, thank you.) It's a huge change, I'm out of my comfort zone a bit, and I'm not sure what the future holds, but I'm excited. It's an adventure.

Putting Southern Studies to Good Use

Today I was offered a job. Hell yeah! I did it all on my own too. Uh, huh. More details to come as I learn them.

Oh yeah, it's in New York. I'm putting my southern studies degree to good use.