In a perfect world (for me, anyhow, not for others)

I grew discouraged while searching for jobs and started dreaming about my ideal life.  I don't even know if my ideal life would involve a career anymore... sadly, the reality of my situation means that no job is not an option at this point.  But It didn't stop me from imagining a world of six inch stilettos, a plethora of Motel bodysuits, a hubby who supports my creative endeavors, and weekends entertaining friends at my seaside mansion.

I daydream far more than any person should; I think I do it to give myself hope and something to look forward to that is built into an attainable fantasy of my anticipated future when I have nothing else in my immediate future to look forward to.  I see no harm in it- after all, if I am not hoping for something, I have no hope, and what is a life lived with no hope?  Life is full of surprises- it's hard to plan anything down the road when you don't even know if you will be working tomorrow.  It's hard to know if anyone will get back to you from all of those jobs you applied to.  It is hard to know if you will wake up with a clear face, or three new zits.  I'm not sure where all of this is going; I'm just saying that in moments of life when everything around me seems to be crumbling down, relationships, my bank account, my ego, (yes, I am dramatic like that), I like to look forward to what I anticipate my future will be if I work hard enough.  The following paragraphs will document what I would find to be a perfect future.

I would have a beautiful house in the Hamptons on the water.  It would have a huge backyard and a sun room that had perfect views of the beach.  I'd have a huge kitchen where I would cook awesome meals and bake awesome desserts, and that kitchen would have windows overlooking the water.  I would have lilac trees, and hydrangea bushes, and maybe even rose bushes in the front and back yard.  I would have a pool, and a mint-green vespa to get around town on, with a basket in the front to put my fresh produce when I visited the local farmer's market.  I would also be the proud owner of a vintage jaguar and some other luxury car, like that sick Mercedes SUV that looks like a Range Rover (I'm not a dude, so I don't really pay attention to the specific names of cars... I just know that I want it).

I would have a husband.  He would be a hard worker, but he would know how to have fun- he would be down to earth and far from stuffy or pretentious.  We might do recreational drugs on the weekend... nothing crazy though.  He wouldn't be an addict.  He would have a full head of beautiful hair, a big, warm smile, and beautiful eyes.... oh, and beautiful hands (hands are one of the most important features on a man for me).  He would be sweet and thoughtful and charming.  I could hold an intellectual conversation with him, or just be my crazy-ass self and he would love every minute of it.  He wouldn't be a lumberjack or have huge muscles, but he would know how to fix the faucet or change a tire and build me a fire.  He would enjoy grilling and manly things like fine whisky and soccer matches. But he would also like to go to concerts and be spontaneous (like drinking germ-x or smashing wine bottles on trees... jk... the past is the past).

I would pursue writing and costuming, and hopefully provide some portion of the income doing so.  But I would have a schedule that allowed me to be home for dinner; and I would make awesome meals to relax at the end of the day, while I had a large glass of Rose.  I would also throw many parties in my huge house.  I would string fairy lights in the back yard and have a copper, screened-in fire pit for summer get-togethers.  I would be like Ina Garten and make picnic baskets full of yummy pasta salads and baked goods and bottles of wine for get-togethers with friends on the beach or a romantic date with my husband.  If my creative endeavors did not provide me with much money, my husband would be happy to provide for me.  And I would be happy to be dressed in some sexy little number with dinner ready whenever he got home (yes, I know this goes against what I should stand for as a feminist, but I fucking love heels and tight dresses and lingerie and cooking for others).

I would have enough time and money to travel the world- we would take an annual vacation to some far off location.  But I would also take weekend trips around the East Coast and stay in ideal locations on lakes or the water.  My husband and I would go on weekend get-aways to vineyards or maybe even hiking.  We would go to art galleries and museums and concerts all over and discover new restaurants, stores, and bars along the way.  We would own a sail boat and spend a good portion of the summer on it.  If we were wealthy enough, we would have a yacht.  A girl can dream, right?

How I would spend my days:

Taking "artistic" photos.  I am really good a photographing human subjects, because I know my angles (I spent 12 years of my life taking dance and growing up in front of a mirror, I know what makes a bitch look good).  This is an old photo of my brother... I'm so talented. jk. ahahahahaha

Making my shitty, emo paintings would be another past-time in my fantasy future.  Maybe I would even sell them in local galleries (I doubt anyone would ever want to buy this shit though) haha.  If my future husband was supporting me, I would certainly have more time to paint. 

Refurbishing vintage pieces of furniture and decorating my mansion.  I laquered this little gem.  I'd have the sickest house ever with my great decorating sense. 

Sewing Costumes!  I sewed all of the costumes in this pic.. and they weren't even completely finished here.  Please ignore the blurred out faces- I didn't want to post pics of people without their permission :)  I would sew custom costumes from home.  I'd have an entire room for sewing and painting in my imaginary mansion. 

thoughts

1.  dont drink at work....youll get drunk

2.  dont ever give anyone your number...theyre all douche bags.

3.  stay away from french dudes, theyll scar you so bad you wont even be able to listen to daft punk.

4.  do treat yourself to some jeffrey campbell booties...theyre the comfiest 6 inch heels known to man.

5.  dont eat san loco...your stomach will hate you and youll wake up fat.

6.  do enjoy the smell of the spunk trees in june...they lose their spunk scent and start to smell like lilacs.

7.  do visit your ex boyfriend in the hamptons because life is 1000000x better when youre near the beach.

8.  dont self tan.

9.  embrace your white skin.

10.  never ever ever get your hopes up.  they will always be shot down.  its only when youre least expecting things to go well that they actually dom

11.  dont ever take your health for granted.

One Year, Two Years, Three Years ago

TODAY

Today I am sitting here with a part-time job that doesn't even make ends meet.  I haven't bought myself something nice in a long time because it's all I can do to pay my bills and afford essentials like toilet paper and coffee.  My New York State taxes were filed incorrectly so instead of getting back $400, I now owe $233 (after a three month pending period following my accountant resubmitting forms and New York State dicking around deciding if anything would change).  I hate my job.  It would be one thing if I were making a decent salary and was able to afford some fun in my life, but I bust my ass waiting on assholes who may or may not tip properly, and feel degraded as fuck.  I have a college degree (two degrees, actually), retail management experience, costuming experience, writing experience, and yet night after night, I wait on demanding customers and carry heavy trays of alcoholic beverages through packed audiences who don't have enough empathy to move out of my way.

I live alone.  I come home to an empty apartment and two, smelly-ass foster cats whose poop I'm constantly scooping.  I wake up alone.  I can take time off from my job whenever I would like which is great, except I need money so I can't really take time off without guilt or worrying how I will pay my rent the next month.  My hourly pay is $5 an hour, and thanks to New York City taxes, about 1/3 of my paycheck is taken out, so even when I make awesome credit tips... it doesn't matter.

I spend my days off scrubbing my apartment, which gets surprisingly filthy due to two cats with shedding black hair.  I also scour craigslist.org for better jobs, either in or out of NYC, since I'm not so sure that I even want to live here anymore.  I have really been considering going to Grad school, but I'm not sure where or for what.  Life is more confusing than ever before, and it seems that due to rent, my lease, and bills, my options are pretty limited at the moment.

I am still broken up with my ex-boyfriend, though we now talk on a daily basis (this was after I said we couldn't communicate at all and I slowly realized you can't just cut one of your best friends entirely out of your life without serious consequences).  I have been out with a handful of dudes since breaking up with him about 4 months ago (after we went on numerous breaks and got into numerous fights over the last year of our relationship), and every guy I went out with just didn't do it for me.  I've been out with assholes who only wanted no-strings attached sex, guys who admitted to throwing cats against a wall and might be deported due to DUIs, dudes I met while they were rolling on molly, and I am now throwing in the towel.  If I have to be alone for the rest of my life, it will be better than dating a dick bag.  I have only just recently given up on dating and seeing other guys; I think I was just using it as a distraction from my otherwise stressful and and mundane existence, so now I am back to focusing on just me.  I don't need any distractions- they aren't worth my time, energy, or emotions.


ONE YEAR AGO

One year ago, I was a visual assistant manager at Hollister Co.  I was living at home and driving about 30 minutes to and from work in Binghamton each day.  I hated my job because of the politics of the company and the emphasis on physical appearance, but in retrospect, at least I had a steady pay check every two weeks and worked with a great team of people (not that I don't now- the people I currently work with are also great).  I sometimes had to be into work at 6am, but in retrospect, it's a lot better than my current job of going into work at 10pm and not getting out until 4am.

Living at home didn't always seem like the greatest thing, but now that I live alone, it was awesome to have had someone considerate enough to put a plate of food in the fridge for me when they new I wasn't going to be back from work until midnight.  It was nice to have a built-in friend with my brother also living at home, so I had someone to talk to and watch a movie with at 10pm.  It was really nice to have a car, and not have to rely on someone else's time schedule for transportation as I do these days (the L train is NEVER running the way it should be, and I have spent so much money on cabs as a result that it makes me feel sick thinking of the money I have wasted in the last few months).  I didn't have to pay rent, which saved me a shit ton of money, and I also didn't have to spend money on food... or toilet paper... or coffee.. or fucking foster cats who will shit their brains out if I don't buy top-of-the-line, $40 bags of hard food. Life was pretty fucking good looking back....

I had $10,000 in my bank account.  I was planning on quitting my job with Hollister to move to NYC in the fall, and I was hopeful that finding work in the city would be relatively easy.  I was so full of hope.  I also had grandiose plans to spend a portion of my money on a trip to Barcelona.  I was on a break with my then boyfriend, and had so much time to just focus on me and MY future.  I spent days off making elaborate meals for my family (it was nice to have people to cook for), walking my dogs, taking a raft out in Guilford lake by myself, or just planning my future and applying to jobs in the city.


Two Years Ago

At this time two years ago, I was madly in love with my boyfriend.  We were still doing long-distance after a year and a half of being together, but each time we saw each other, it was like three days in heaven.  I would look forward to visiting him in the Hamptons (where his family lived) and going to the beach and for long bike rides by the bay and out to eat.  I looked forward to nights of star-gazing in his hammock, and cooking awesome meals with him.  He would come visit me upstate, and I would show him around my innocent, sleepy little town.  We would have a fire in the woods, or go for walks, and I would bring him to all the coolest restaurants Binghamton had to offer.  We would hang out with my cousin and brother and cook meals for my family.  We were so happy and in love back then.... it almost makes me sad to think back on these days.

I worked part time at Macy's in the cosmetics department.  I worked with some truly awesome women, and I had so much free time on my hands since I worked about four days a week and the hours were pretty decent (no late-late nights like I am doing now, or super early mornings like I had to do for Hollister).  I was still living at home back then and commuting via car to Binghamton.  My paychecks weren't that big, so it sucked that a large portion had to go towards gas, but it was still better than taking the subway or paying for a cab.

I spent my free time cooking for my family, or catering to the feral cats in my backyard (this was the summer that Bijou and Pot Pie showed up as kittens).  I built tent city for them and would spend hours outside playing with them.  I hung out with my friends for drinks at Jerry's or the occasional bonfire party.  I had just graduated from Oneonta so I was not in any major rush to find an adult job with benefits etc.  Time was on my side back then and I was not stressed about much.  I think the biggest stress in my life was making time to see my boyfriend.



Three Years Ago

Three years ago, I had just had the most tumultuous and amazing year of my young, adult life.  The summer after the year of Cliff Street was an interesting time.  I had a new boyfriend (we had been together for about six months back then), and that summer was the beginning of what would turn into a 3 year long distance relationship.  It was a hard transition since we had seen each other daily while college was in session.  I was so in love back then.  I would bake him cookies and mail them to him, and I looked forward to visiting him in the Hamptons or him visiting me upstate.

I was so sweet, and young, and innocent and hopeful it almost pains me to look back on that time in my life.  I would cry because I missed my boyfriend, but other than that nothing really stressed or upset me.  I was working part-time at Claire's, which was a pretty sweet and innocent job in itself.... selling tiaras and tutus to little girls or piercing an 8 year old's ears.

The highlight of my summer back then was having my Albany friends drive to Oneonta for a night out with the girls, or taking a trip to Albany to visit them and go to my friend's family's restaurant and Crossgates mall.  I went on shopping trips with my mom and grandma that summer- I bought my first $90 bottle of Jean Paul Gaultier perfum, and SO MUCH lingerie... I must have spent about $2,000 on lingerie over the three years I was with my boyfriend.  I fucking miss the excitement of it all.  Now I wonder if I will ever feel those butterflies and that newness ever again.  


Four Years Ago

Four years ago, I was a virgin, I was single, I was having so much fun and acting out doing all sorts of crazy shit.  It was the summer of rage week, and my best friend and I were inseparable.  I'm convinced we hung out pretty much every day, whether it was deciding to drive to binghamton to do drugs and see a movie, or sitting on her mom's deck with the caged in fire lit drinking wine under the stars.  We listened to a lot of Jeff Buckley that summer, and usually ended up quoting his lyrics when we were wasted or emo.  We listened to a lot of shitty and awesome music like Def Leopard and Metallica and other assorted crap we thought was amazing because it fit the mood.  We spray painted the pavilion in a park and had to jump over a bank in the pouring rain to hide from the cops, we got wasted on the football field at night with our group of guy friends and had to run from the cops when they showed up... we did a lot of running from the cops that summer.  We went out in Oneonta a lot- our favorite bars that summer were the Black Oak Tavern (I loved skeevy, hipster types) and the Fox (my friend loved karaoke), and drank a lot of cocktails.  I made out with a lot of boys that summer... it was a fun summer.  I don't even think I had a job that summer... which is probably why it was so awesome.  Oh wait, that's right- I cleaned houses for old ladies. ahahahahaha.  What a great job.  It was only like $120 a week for about 6 hours total work, but it was enough to buy drinks at the bar, since I really had no other expenditures.  I still had my shitty Nissan Altima that summer; that was the summer I drove it into a 4 ft. ditch completely sober.  It was still fine after that.... it was a good car.  The summer of 2009 led into the greatest year of my life, the fall of 2009 and the year I spent at Clif Street.

This was the year that would change me forever.  I met some of my closest friends that fall, drank far more than I should have, did some crazy and stupid shit, which NO, I don't regret at all, and met my boyfriend.  Summer of 2009 was amazing, even though I was in emotional turmoil.  Life was promising and the future was wide open (to quote Tom Petty).

Post from a Bus

I am currently sitting on a greyhound bus back to my shitty, New York existence.  My ipod is dead as disco, I am about 15 lbs heavier than I was just a month ago, I'm having severe anxiety over my future, and I am 100% positive that my apartment will smell heavily of cat shit and piss upon my return.  Furthermore I can't even use proper punctuation without a great degree of difficulty on my outdated Android.  But hey life could be much, much worse.

Despite the fact that I spent the majority of my time home eating and am now 15 lbs fatter, home was most enjoyable...even if it rained 2 out of the 3 days that I was home.  Anyone reading this whom actually knows me will probably think I am insane for thinking that I gained 15 lbs, but the scale at the doctor's office doesn't lie.  Neither does the fact that my belt doesn't fit without having to suck in, or the fact that I have chafed the hell out of my inner thighs and love handles when I wear my black work pants.  I have to take immediate action before this gets out of control.  It reminds me of my freshman year at FIT.  I lost a ton of weight that Fall and then when I went home for Christmas break, I gained all of it back and then some over the course of the six weeks we had for break.  Upon returning to the city that January, my sister took me on a death march across the city to go to the Apple store and my too-tight jeans chafed my love handles and inner thighs so severely, that I had rug-burn like abrasions that lasted for a week.  I can never let that happen again, because then it spurs this vicious cycle where I throw in the towel and start eating cookies out of sadness and failure and make the situation even more devastating and hard to bounce back from.  When I am back in the city I will also have to post a proper blog with photos, since my phone also won't let me post pics.

I have been thinking a lot about grad school these past couple of weeks.  I cannot believe that I have been in NYC for 9 months now and still only have part-time work at Highline.  I will be off my parent's insurance next year, which has really made me start to freak out about the thought of a life without insured doctor/dental/and optometry visits (I refuse to ever live a life without insurance and become one of those people whom have to pay $300 out of pocket for a basic doctor's visit or one of those people who just stop going to the dentist because they have no insurance).   So now, I am REALLY freaking out about an adult job that comes with proper benefits and a 401K.  My health is super important to me since I freak out over little things and visit webmd.com more than any person should.  If I can't find a "proper" job, perhaps my best option at this point would be to immerse myself back into academia.  I do love writing papers and attending classes.... It is definitely something I intend to look into this week on my days off.

Speaking of health, i had my annual lady appointment (the primary reason i went home) and every time I leave that office, I cannot help but think  to myself how lucky my 72 year old OBGYN is.  I mean, the dude is 72 years old and gets to feel up 25 year old breasts all day.  I bet his geriatric friends are all jealous... hahahahhaa.  Ew.

View from the dock at CowFish in Hampton Bays... I think I could have a cocktail sitting on this wrap-around deck every day and life would be good. 

Beach on Dune Road.  

Bouquet of wild flowers I picked while at home... I'm so fucking fancy... NOT. 

The highlight of my trip home.. Bijou, my pride and joy.  He is the best cat in the world.  And the cutest. 

Pleasant Thoughts

After a week of eating my feelings, I suppose it is time to get my shit together and get back on the saddle.  I swear to God I've gained about 15 pounds over the course of the last 7 days thanks to a trip home last weekend, coupled with severe boredom and a less-than-conducive to eating regular meals work schedule (going into work at 5pm and getting out at 4am.... not good).  Ugh.  It always seems that just when everyone else is shedding winter weight and getting fit for summer, I balloon out just in time for shorts season.  It doesn't help me feel any better that when I go on Pinterest to do my pinning for Renegade Chicks and all of the street fashion photos seem to feature girls with twigs for legs.  What gives?  It's almost as bad as lookbook.nu where every person looks like they're suffering from anorexia (I'm sorry, I know an eating disorder ravaged body when I see it as opposed to someone who is naturally thin).  Come on, I know that not all stylish people of the world are under 100 lbs.  It's so annoying and frustrating that no one with any mass to their body posts pictures.  I'm not advocating a plus-size lookbook or pinterest fashion page, but it'd be nice to see some varying body shapes.  I see all of these outfits that look awesome on a girl with a thigh-gap and bony ass collar bone, and then I picture myself wearing them and realize that because I have an ass and thighs they won't look nearly as good on me.  It is thoroughly depressing.  And I'm not saying I'm big, because I'm far from being fat, but jesus... if these photos make a person of my size feel inadequate that's an issue.  It's just not healthy.  Another thing I hate about summer is the fact that heat makes me swell.  So does working out.  I can't even take walks without my calves and thighs growing in size.  No lie.  I'm better off not working out at all.  I took a walk across the bridge last week and my calves doubled in size.  It's so sad.

I have been so much better at not taking anything for granted since living on my own, but the one thing I've realized that I take for granted far too often is my health.  Whenever I'm sick, I realize how awesome it is just to feel 'normal' and well.  Last week, I started feeling a bit off and decided a doctor's appointment was in order.  After searching my insurance's directory page, I realized the nearest doctor that accepted my insurance plan (MVP, hmo), was an hour and forty minute commute away.  "Ain't nobody got time for that." hahaha.  It was so frustrating.  And on top of the fact the commute would have taken the better part of a day, they couldn't even get me in for like 3 days.  UM, HELLO????  If I'm making a doctor's appointment for an issue that's currently going on with my body, I'd really like to be fucking seen ASAP to get said issue resolved.  So, I was forced to make an appointment with an office in Manhattan and on top of spending $90 out of pocket for a routine check up, I waiting for an hour and 45 minutes.  What would I do if I had had to get to work and they made me wait that long?  I was so fucking frustrated.  I have an actual doctor's appointment scheduled at home next week, which I am SO looking forward to.  I don't know who looks forward to a doctor's appointment like it's a holiday, but let me tell you, I am.  I can't wait to see my regular doctor, and be treated like a human being, not just another random patient they need to get in and out.  My abdomen has been feeling seriously wonky.  Last summer I had gastritis and made a midnight trip to the ER after throwing up at work and crying all night from the stabbing pain under my rib cage.  I ended up needing a double IV and narcotic drip followed by a series of antibiotics and prescription pain killers.  However, I've been having intense stabbing pains in my lower, right-side this time, and I don't know what the fuck is going on.  Naturally I've hopped on webmd.com and have concluded it's probably some sort of ovarian cancer.  I'm sure I'm being dramatic and a hypochondriac, but only time will tell.  At least this doctor's visit will give me a chance to go home for a couple of days.  I can't fucking wait to see my friends and Bijou and have some peach sangria.

My sister was out of town this weekend and I was responsible for feeding Emma, so I have been taking full advantage of cable.  I watched some truly sappy shit like 'Nights in Rodanthe' and then I went on a Dolly Parton kick and watched '9 to 5' and own of my favorite girly movies, 'Steel Magnolias.'  Dolly Parton used to be so f*cking pretty before she jacked her face up.  hahaha.  I also watched a lot of Food Network (probably why I my hunger was never satiated and I devoured upwards of 20,000 calories in two days).  I decided one of my new goals in life is to mature into a less-fat version of Ina Garten (Barefoot Contessa).  I someday aspire to own a huge, shingle-sided mansion in the Hamptons where I make delicious food and cocktails to serve to my friends and guests all year long.  I think that'd be a lovely life- picnics on the beach at sunset, beautiful brunches for two.  Sigh.  A girl can dream, right?

I have also decided to be a nerd and list some of my favorite little things in life (apart from the basics like friends and family), to remind myself of all the small things that I should be grateful for:

1.  Lilacs in the spring.  I have decided that when I get married some day, I will need luscious bouquets of white lilacs at my wedding.  I don't care if lilac season is over, they will be had even if I have to spend mad money to import them.

2.  Bijou.  He is the best cat I know... all sweet, and fluffy and gay and doing is business in the outdoors where I'm not subjected to the foul scents or having to scoop his shit at 2am.

3.  A great cocktail with my best friends; whether it is the perfect cosmopolitan (my local bartender surprisingly makes the best... I like a lot of triple sec), or the $5 peach sangria from Highway 7.  Nothing is more relaxing than a good cocktail and some girl talk.

4.  Fires- I love bonfires in the summer and fires in the winter.  Nothing is more comforting than the smell of wood burning, the glow of the flames, and the direct heat.  I also love cooking hotdogs and s'mores over an open flame.

5.  The beach.  I can't wait to make a trip to the beach some time soon to bask my pale body in the dangerous UVA/UVB rays.  I love the sound of waves and seagulls, and feeling like I'm at the edge of the world with only the horizon before me.  It makes me feel like I'm removed from any other stresses and issues in life... and that is a good feeling.

6.  Fresh cut grass; I love the smell of fresh cut grass and hay in the summer time.

7.  New clothes and shoes.  Nothing makes me feel sexier than slipping into some new hot shorts or heels.

8.  A good movie.  I don't care if it is something that makes me cry, or something that makes me laugh. I love a movie that helps me step out of my own life for a couple of hours.

9.  Sunsets.  I love a beautiful pink, orange and red sky, especially if I have good company and/or a good drink in my hand.

10.  Getting hit on.  Even if the dude is an obvious douche bag, it's still flattering to be hit on as long as it's in a tasteful manner (no, catcalls on the street don't count... that's just disgusting).

11.  Ice cream.  Even though I will regret my decision to binge eat ice cream the following day, ice cream is just so damn delicious.

12.  A clean apartment.  It's so nice to have spotless floors, clean counter tops, lint-rolled furniture, and no dirty clothes in the hamper.

13.  A good skin day.  Nothing boosts my confidence quite like waking up with no blemishes to cover.

14.  A good dinner out.  I love dining out; it is so nice to be waited on and served and have someone else cleaning up and doing dishes.  I never really appreciate this until I was a server.

15.  Jeff Buckley on rainy days.

16.  Making an awesome meal for family/friends or cooking an awesome meal with the person you love (I miss this).

17.  Flowers.  Whether it is a field of wild flowers upstate, rose bushes, or bouquets of cut flowers at the corner grocery, I love flowers.

18.  A fresh manicure.  Nothing makes me want to sing "I feel pretty, oh so pretty" like getting my nails did.

19.  Days off.  Nothing is better than waking up and knowing the whole day is yours to do whatever you please with.

20.  Taking a cab as opposed to the smelly subway.