How to Live in a 230 Sq Ft Apartment

For those following me on the socials, you might know I moved out of NYC this past weekend. It's a temporary move and one I'm making only because working, eating, sleeping, ugly crying, etc. in the same room for an indefinite period of time is not great for one's mental health. But before I parted ways with the space I thought I'd offer some free advice on how to live in a 230 square foot apartment.

You avoid it at all costs. Unless you live in Manhattan and then, just like with everything else this city demands of you, you adapt.

In 2018, I was finally able to move into my own apartment in the West Village - a neighborhood on the west side of Manhattan. It's a beautiful neighborhood and one I had been dying to afford ever since I moved to NYC and realized that's where all the cool kids are. The stars finally aligned and I got my own place - my very own, teeny-tiny 230 sq. ft. studio apartment.

This is 30

I literally tried to write this post like seventeen times and kept pressing delete because it made me want to vom. I was trying too hard to not get emotional and it just made me sound like I was bragging about my birthday. Which, don't get me wrong, was definitely braggable but that's not why I'm here. Anyways. Unless you've muted me on all social media platforms, you may have noticed I recently turned 30. I had a difficult time with the milestone so posting about it incessantly on Instagram is how I coped - like the millennial I am. Big moments scare me. They make me feel like I'm not in control. Kind of like a roller coaster ride where you can see the huge drop coming up ahead but there's nothing you can do because you're strapped in. Life is about to change and you can't stop it. 

Happy Ann'y

Two years ago today I decided I was going to start writing again. I had no idea what I was doing (spoiler alert: still don't) and I had no idea what I wanted to write about. It turns out, I want to write about it all. The good, the funny, the bad, and the ugly. I've grown up a lot with you here - and not just as a writer.

I've told you stories about waking up in a trash can, moving to New York, and my inner dialogue when I have to do anything that requires being physically active. I hope you've enjoyed laughing along with me (or more likely, at me) and I can assure you that there will be plenty more of these stories to come.

You've also been there with me in the darkest moments of my life. Right now you're staring at a screen merely reading typed words but on the other side of that screen is a woman who has cried for hours in front of you, wondering if she's sharing too much but still needing to share it all. I've been told that I should be ashamed and that God is disappointed in me. That what I'm sharing some "don't have the stomach for." I've learned that my words aren't meant for these people and I've also learned to be okay with that.

As of this morning, I have 22,955 pageviews. That might not seem like a lot to some. But to me that number represents every time someone thought something that I had penned was worthy of reading. Thank you for your comments and likes and most of all, thank you for reading.

FAQs

So in case I haven't advertised it enough on all of my social media platforms (that was a joke, I literally spam everyone), I'm writing a novel. If you were curious about it, here are some FAQs:

OMG, you're writing a book? 

Let's use the term "writing" loosely. It's been almost a year and I'm less than 10,000 words in. Slow and steady wins the race?

What's it about? 

Hmmm tricky. I don't want to give the whole thing away, but it's inspired by true events with plenty of fiction sprinkled throughout that I won't owe anyone any royalties or apologies.

Isn't it, like, hard writing a book? 

Uhmmm, obvi. People like to romanticize the writing process. It's not easy. It doesn't come naturally. It doesn't pour out of you. Okay, sometimes it does. But most days I struggle to come up with a complete sentence. It's certainly something you have to work at. It's emotionally and mentally draining. Sometimes I feel like I've written a masterpiece and sometimes I feel like I should throw my iPad out the window.

When do you find time to write?

I have plenty of time to write I'm just not disciplined enough to devote all of my free time to this project. For example, I am currently sitting in a coffee shop in Brooklyn. I came here with the intent to work on my novel for a couple of hours and here I am writing a blog post about it instead. And also staring at some chick who is wearing a gold, spaghetti strapped midi dress and rain booties. What?! #welcometonewyork

What inspires you?

Emotion. The highest of highs and the lowest of lows. Which is why you shouldn't bank on inspiration to write. Which is why writing is so difficult. You have to write even when you are feeling even-keeled.

Do you listen to music when you write or do you need silence?

Even in college I needed to be around other humans to write. I can't be alone or in a quiet space. I feel disconnected. My most ideal setting for writing is a somewhat busy coffee shop with free wifi and good booze. As for the music, I literally listen to "Cancer" by Twenty One Pilots on repeat. Over and over and over and over and over......

Are you trying to get published? 

Yes and no. That's not my end goal. I just want to write. And to be able to say that I finished a novel. That is a huge accomplishment and I would honestly be happy to just be able to put a check mark next to that item. That being said, when I finish this thing I will certainly ship it off to a couple of people with high hopes but I'm not holding my breath and neither should you.

Can I read what you have written so far? 

No.

Wait, why not? 

How do I put this....I would rather stand in front of you naked and let you criticize my physical body than let you read the most personal thing I've ever written in draft form.

I'm also writing a book, do you have any tips? 

Good luck. Ha. Okay, but seriously good luck. It's hard and it sucks and most days you wonder why you think anyone would want to read anything you write. But plenty of published authors felt/feel that same way and look where they are.

I'm sure I'll keep you guys updated about the progress but for the time being, just know that if I'm not writing blog posts it's because I'm trying to write something a little more permanent.

The Benesh Beauties

On this International Women's Day, I'm celebrating one of the women that taught me what exactly that label means. 

Marjorie Del Benesh was born on October 11, 1921. From conception, she was already competing with a man, her twin brother. She grew up with privilege, an affluent family in an affluent neighborhood of Detroit. The norm? Yacht clubs and parties and double-booking dates (she once hid in a coat closet when a second suitor arrived at her door). She was absolutely breathtaking and if I'm being honest, she probably used this to her advantage on more than one occasion. She was a dancer. An architect. A doctor's assistant. She was a wife. A mother. A divorcee. A sole caregiver and breadwinner. She watched death take two of her children. One to pneumonia and the other to cancer. She drank. She smoke. She adored "the shops." She was loyal. She was strong. She was independent. My grandmother was many things, all of which made her a woman. 

Once the Alzheimer's began stealing from her mind, she needed more help than she was willing to admit. This was incredibly difficult for a woman who had lived the majority of her life relying on herself. She left us just as we would have expected her to, gracefully and with a fight. On October 20, 2008, my grandmother passed away wearing her favorite pajamas and surrounded by the love of the people she had touched.

My grandmother influenced many of the women in my life who have led me by example, the Benesh Beauties: my mother, my aunts Sue and Margie, my sister Amanda, and my cousins Anne and Caitie. I've seen each of them work hard for what they have. I've seen them broken. I've seen them love. I've seen them stand up for others who couldn't stand up for themselves. Today and everyday I'm thankful for them and for many others who have shown me how to be a woman. I am the strong, independent, emotional, stubborn, thrifty, creative, sarcastic, open-minded, and passionate person I am simply because all of you have shown me that every single one of those qualities is perfect in its own right. Thank you for showing me what it is to be a woman.

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"You can never be too skinny or too rich." - Daily mantra.

"I pay my taxes" - An excuse to basically do whatever you want, whenever you want.

"Rub up!" - When moisturizing, so as to avoid wrinkles.

"Always suck in." - Obvi.

"You can always return it." - Buy now, try on later.

"Don't you like it?" - To anyone who ever turned down anything she was offering to you at the dinner table.

Lacing Up

On January 21st I was one of 500,000 marching on the National Mall to protest the Trump administration's agenda. No, I don't think this will somehow oust him as our president. I don't think he'll miraculously change his rhetoric. I don't think his policies will shift. He won't stop being a bully, a liar, and a coward. I know that after that awe-inspiring march, he still still stands for everything I disagree with. It doesn't matter.

I'm not whining about my candidate losing. I'm not pouting. I'm concerned. And I did something about it. It's my responsibility to actively participate in this democracy. And it's your responsibility too.

I marched for myself - as a woman, as a rape victim, and as a human being who recognizes that I have privileges not afforded to others.

So if you're one of many who are wondering why this march took place, why I wasted my time, caused traffic woes for the DC metro area - here's why. We live in a country so great that I have the freedom to peacefully assemble to protest something I disagree with. But we have to fight to maintain that freedom. We can't just kick up our feet and take it for granted. There is no guarantee that it will always be there.

I actually had to take a break from Facebook because some responses to this protest were ruining the amazing high I was on. And I didn't want to give anyone that power. So if you can't be on board with equality, freedom, and justice for everyone - then at least appreciate that there are people who still care enough to travel hundreds of miles to make sure their voices are heard.

"It falls to each of us to be those anxious, jealous guardians of our democracy. Embrace the joyous task we have been given to continually try to improve this great nation of ours because, for all our outward differences, we in fact all share the same proud type, the most important office in a democracy, citizen. Citizen. So, you see, that’s what our democracy demands. It needs you. Not just when there’s an election, not just when your own narrow interest is at stake, but over the full span of a lifetime. If you’re tired of arguing with strangers on the Internet, try talking with one of them in real life. If something needs fixing, then lace up your shoes and do some organizing. If you’re disappointed by your elected officials, grab a clip board, get some signatures, and run for office yourself. Show up, dive in, stay at it." - President Barack Obama

A Letter & a Birthday Wish

Dear 17-year-old Melissa,

The first thing you're going to notice about her - after you stop staring into her gorgeous blue eyes - is her mouth. Brace yourself. She's going to tell you when you're wrong. Especially when you're really wrong. She's going to tell you that your hair looks like shit and you can't possibly meet the man of your dreams if your hair looks like shit. She's going to have opinions. She's going to have opinions about your opinions. So make sure your opinion is also her opinion. She's going to make you laugh. The kind of laugh that will make strangers stop and turn to see what's so funny. The kind of laugh that makes you cry and wheeze and your abs sore the next morning. And that's not even with the aid of alcohol. Oh god, the alcohol. You guys are going to drink so. much. alcohol. Don't drink the Four Loko. Actually, do. Because some pretty great memories happen from Nights of Four Loko. She's going to be late to everything. Literally. Everything. You're going to cancel on her to hang out with a boy instead. You are going to argue. A lot. But my god, she's going to love you. And that kind of love you just don't want to pass up. She's going to save your life. She's literally going to be the phonecall that keeps your life from ending at the age of eighteen. She's going to be your soulmate. Your person. She's going to tell you all the things you want to hear when you need to hear it most. She's going to cry with you when you cry. She's going to celebrate when you celebrate. Hold on to her and never let go.

Happy Birthday, Nanners. Cheers to your 28th year.

Love,
Meemo

What Makes a Woman Nasty

At sixteen years old, at my very first job, a co-worker three times my age groped me because we were alone together and he had gotten away with it before so he thought he could do it again.

When I was seventeen years old, my biology teacher in my Baptist private school verbally sexually harassed me. The pastor of the church and dean of the school called me a liar and a few months later I was kicked out in the middle of my junior year.

At my first job out of college, at a very prominent global law firm, I was continually told I needed to smile more, that I needed to "look pleasant."

The next year at a different law firm, I was repeatedly sexually harassed by a lawyer I worked with. I finally got the courage to tell him to stop when he asked what color panties I was wearing. 

Last year I was raped by a man who is currently "serving our country" as a soldier and secret service agent on the Secretary of Defense's detail.

At the age of twenty-seven, when I asked for a well-deserved raise and title change, my male boss told me that I was "very bold" and that I wouldn't be getting the promotion.

Throughout my career I have been called "sweetie" and "honey" by men who didn't see me as anything more than a pair of tits and a skirt and certainly not anyone with a brain.

Almost every day I'm whistled at while walking to work by men who think I'm there for their viewing pleasure, by men who think I should be grateful that they find me attractive.

You tell me not to take this election personally. You tell me to sit down, shut up, and get over it. I've been doing that for twenty-seven years and I'm fucking done.

You tell me that it wasn't about gender; gender had nothing to do with it. Gender had everything to do with it. Hillary Rodham Clinton was the most experienced and qualified presidential candidate we have ever had and she lost the job to an inexperienced white man who wouldn't have even passed an HR screening for a job as White House janitor.

I'm taking this personally because I have a niece for whom I would gladly give my life if it meant she would never be touched by a man who thought he was entitled to her body. I'm taking this personally because Hillary represented me and every other woman who has had to listen to men say "the boys will take it from here."  I'm taking this personally because having a Madam President would have propelled us light-years into the future, past oppression and into an era of acceptance and equality for women.

You think you've silenced us. You're wrong. You've united us. You've strengthened us. And you've made us even nastier.

What Do You Do?

The running joke in DC. Except it's not a joke. Meet anyone for the first time here and I'd bet you the HH bill that that's the first thing they'll ask you.

So what do I do?

I work in legal marketing. And most of the time, it's not as boring as it sounds. But I'll be the first to admit that this isn't my passion.

I remember growing up and just knowing I wanted to write. All of my friends wanted to be firefighters or teachers or veterinarians but I knew I was going to be a writer. Fast forward to my second semester of my senior year of college (not so quick on the uptake, this one) and I finally came to terms with the fact that I probably wasn't going to be on the NYT's Bestseller List anytime soon. And I was crushed. I hadn't even started anything yet and I felt like I had failed.

So here I am, 27 years old, and I just now figured out that I don't need to have "writer" as my profession on LinkedIn to be a writer. I can use my writing skills at my day job. I can journal. I can write a novel in my spare time (yeah, I'm actually doing that - we'll come back to that). Or I can continue to blog about shit no one cares about (shout out to my three loyal readers, lookin' at you fam).

So maybe life isn't turning out the way you expected. Maybe you feel like you're behind everyone else and you worry if you'll ever catch up. Or maybe you feel like you're too far ahead and you're nervous that someone else hasn't blazed the trail before you. Did you ever stop to think that maybe you were holding yourself back? Or that you are more than capable to blaze that fucking trail yourself?

If you want something bad enough, you'll figure out a way to make it happen. So make it happen. 

Part of my 30 Before 30 Series. You can read Part I here. 

My 2016 Summer Reading List

I'm trying to get back into my routine of regularly writing blog posts. My life is starting to slowly come back together and I'm no longer overwhelmed by the idea of committing to post two times a week. Did I mention my ability to handle stress? Ha. Anyways.

There is seriously nothing better than reading a juicy book while you're catching some rays next to a body of water. Alright, this scenario can always be improved by alcohol and cabana boys but I digress. So I wanted to share my shortlist of my summer reading. I say shortlist because there's about 30 books I want to read this summer and even I (a self-described logophile *Google it*) don't want to read a blog post consisting of 30 book reviews/synopeses so I've limited it to five. You're welcome.

Fair warning: I've only read two of these (The Cuckoo's Calling and Luckiest Girl Alive) and thus can only endorse these two with a clear conscience. I've heard only great things about the other three but hold on I'm getting ahead of myself. Ready? K. Here we go.

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The Cuckoo's Calling - Robert Galbraith (AKA, J.K. Rowling)
AKA, the greatest author of the 21st century. This boss lady's ability to create worlds is on par with God himself. And while this is absolutely nothing like HP, you will still fall in love with her ability to describe her characters with so much detail that you feel like you have known them your whole life. This mystery was obviously a page-turner right up until the ending which caught me completely off-guard. I hate when I can figure out an ending before the author leads me there but Rowling kept me guessing and had me saying "holy shit" out loud when the big reveal was finally made. It was also incredibly refreshing that there was a lack of a love story. Insert clapping emoji here. There's also two other books (and counting) in the series sooo say goodbye to real life while you hibernate with these for the next few weeks.

Luckiest Girl Alive - Jessica Knoll
Holy eff. If you haven't already read this, you need to do it now. No. Seriously. Put down your phone and drive straight to your local library. I absolutely lovedddd the main character in this novel. Why? Because she was real. She was a bitch. She made mistakes. She hurt people. I'm over the damsel in distress bullshit. Ani saves herself. If I haven't already convinced you, read her article in Lenny Letter about her experience with sexual assault and how it influenced her novel. Excuse me while I silently sob at my desk and simultaneously scream 'GIRL POWER!'.

The Girls - Emma Cline
Charles Manson? Say no more. I'm hooked. Emma Cline sold her novel to Random House after 11 other publishers participated in a bidding war over publishing rights. So that tells me that this is going to be cray. This fictional piece about the girls in Charles Manson's intimate circle is a coming-of-age tale that's creating some serious buzz in the publishing world and it's next on my "to read" list.

SweetBitter - Stephanie Danler
I first heard about this novel from my idol, Miss America 2013 Mallory Hagan who slays in basically everything she does and says. If she's endorsing it, I'm in. Synopsis: Young girl moves to New York to "be somebody" and we get to watch as she either makes or breaks it.

The Assistants - Camille Perri
A group of assistants quit playing by the rules and start embezzling money to finally get ahead.  This looks incredibly entertaining. Ethics is for the birds.

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This is in no way my complete list. I'm also throwing in some nonfiction like A Vast Conspiracy, a history of the events leading up to the impeachment of President Bill Clinton. What can I say? I'm a sucker for a sex scandal. Also, #HillzforPrez

Let me know if you are planning to read any of these. I'd also love to hear what you have on your list. Find me on Goodreads and let's be friends :)

Easy...Like Riding a Bike

You know those people who are just naturally good at whatever they do? The ones that are really good at a sport they've never even tried? Or can solve math problems that make your head hurt?

I am not one of those people.

I'm good at: writing (obviiiii), making people laugh, and watching TV. This is the extent of my natural ability. That's a lie. I'm also good at procrastinating, complaining, and eating. I digress.....

I am not good at a lot of things. I cannot handle stress. I have horrible balance. I'm short. I'm highly uncoordinated. Do you see where this is going? Riding a bike is not easy.

So because Metro is undergoing some serious maintenance for the next year (because they are a completely incompetent and corrupt transit system but that's a blog post for another day) I have resorted to biking into work. It's only 4 miles. "It's not that bad," I said. "It'll be fun," I said.

Today was day one.

First off, I borrowed this bike from my sister who is like 5 inches taller than me. Wait, let's go back - do bikes even come in sizes? Can I get a petite? I need a petite over here. Anyways, my feet don't touch the ground. I can barely stand on my tip toes on this thing and that's only if I lean the bike to one side.

It's also a Huffy. Okay, it's not actually a Huffy. I think the brand is Avalanche or something. Which may or may not be worse than Huffy because at least I've heard of Huffy. Regardless, this isn't a road bike for commuting. It's a huge piece of metal that will probably one day be my death trap. Honestly, I'm surprised I can stay upright. Which I actually can't. 

I fell over like 4 times today and every single time I was surrounded by people. Once was on M St. in the middle of Georgetown. If you don't know what that means, go to your nearest outdoor mall and imagine it being filled with rush hour traffic. Then fall over on a bike.

Getting to work was easy as far as actual physical exertion is concerned. It was basically all downhill. Getting home was almost impossible. There's a 260 ft elevation within the distance of one mile. Uhmm...how do you even bike up that without falling backwards? My thighs are still burning. And I could cry thinking about having to do it again.

How I managed to not get hit by a bus or a taxi or someone else on a bike I will never know. But I'm sure that day will soon be upon me.

Because this will be my main transportation for the next year.

All I can say is I better be in the best shape of my life when this is all over.

Dear Raleigh

I know you just got here, but there are a few things I think you should know before you're carried out those hospital doors.

Your mom is going to be your best friend. There will be times in your life when you won't get along with her. You might even say "I hate you" after she strictly enforces your curfew. Your personalities might clash and you will more than likely disagree on just about everything. But I promise you, there will come a day when you realize you can tell her absolutely everything with no judgement. You will realize that she loves you so fiercely, others can't even fathom it.

Learn to love your body. Regardless of how you grow into it, I want you to know that it is perfect. It is a work of art. It is composed of trillions and trillions of cells that are working together to allow you to breathe and walk and see. I want you to look in the mirror every day and know that you are enough. I mourn the day someone makes you feel like you're not. Be in love with every inch of your body. Take care of it. Cherish it. And please don't try to look like anyone else. Your curves and scars and bony flesh are what make you so beautiful.

Be careful of who you give your heart to. Falling in love is one of the best things this life has to offer. But whoever this person is, man or woman, they should be in awe of who you are. They should respect you. Your ideas. Your body. Your emotions. They should care for you as if you are an extension of themselves. The second they are giving you anything less, walk away. Don't waste this beautiful gift of love on them.

Girls can be mean. This doesn't end after elementary school. Or middle school. Or high school. Or college. It doesn't end when you become an "adult." There are mean girls everywhere. Pick your friends wisely. Choose the ones that make you feel good about who you are. Choose the ones that pick your side, no matter what. And you might only have one. I promise you, this person will be your soul mate. Your confidante. They will help you pick up the broken pieces of yourself when you are shattered. They will rejoice with you when you are invincible. Don't let this person go.

I love you little Raleigh. I haven't even met you yet and my heart is already swelling with pride and love for who you are and who you are going to be.

Sending all of my love to my best friend and her fiance who just welcomed their first child into this world. Xoxo.

Blizzard 2016

You guys. It's day four of being stuck inside my apartment due to this blizzard. I've run out of Prosecco. I ate an entire pan of brownies. I feel like I can finally relate to Tom Hanks now (Wilsssooonnnn!). I've started talking to my cat. Like I've actually started to ask him questions. I've watched all four seasons of New Girl on Netflix (omg, Schmidt and CeCe!). I've lost the will to live. I think I'm actually looking forward to going into work tomorrow. What is happeninggggg?!

Anyways, if you're still stuck inside, I recommend the following based off of my own experiences:

• Watch the entire Harry Potter series from beginning to end (drink anytime someone says Harry's full name)
• Organize closets and drawers (drink anytime you throw something away)
• Bumble and Tinder (drink anytime you match with someone)
• Watch people get stuck in the snow outside (drink anytime it's with a 4 wheel drive vehicle)
• Workout (rehydrate with alcohol)
• Catch up on laundry (drink every time you find a sock's mate)

As you can see, I've basically been drunk since 10am on Friday. I actually did venture outside once to go to a yoga class and found myself up to my thighs in snow trying to cross the road. I'm not leaving again until it's absolutely necessary (aka I run out of whiskey or my office opens back up). 

I have some fun things to tell you guys about in the next couple of weeks so make sure you check back soon! Stay warm friends!

Thoughts on Possibly Dying

Wake up in the middle of the night and wonder what you could have done to deserve your throat feeling like the gates of Mordor.

Embrace the risk of choking on a cough drop while you sleep because sweet relief is on the other side of that wrapped paper.

Forget how many times you self-medicated with Robitussin PM in the middle of the night because you're delirious from all of the Robitussin PM you self-medicated with.

Sweet Jesus, where is all this shit coming from?!?!

Upon waking up from a restless night's slumber, guzzle the entire half gallon of organic orange juice in your fridge in hopes that Vitamin C is your cure.

Wonder why your neighbors aren't concerned about the coughing and gagging noises coming from your apartment.

Become so desperate for compassion that you are willing to accept it from your cat who is sometimes an asshole. Except he doesn't want anything to do with me.

Wonder how many episodes of 48 Hours is acceptable to watch during the day. Also wonder if it is acceptable to not put pants on. 

Make soup with whatever is in your fridge that isn't expired. In my case, green beans, corn, cabbage, carrots, potatoes and peas.

Somebody please tell me why my immune system is the absolute worst. I will take all of the advice I can get right now. I hope your first Monday of 2016 was better than mine!

My Life is a Series of These Moments

Last week I was waiting at the bus stop when I reached behind me to smooth out my dress. The blood basically drained out of my face as I felt my dress way higher than it's supposed to be. Like above my ass. Luckily, I was wearing both a black dress and super thick black tights so I'm really hoping nobody saw my goodies. Probably wishful thinking. So I sat down on a bench to wait where I would be safe from any further embarrassing scenarios.

Wrongo.

This old man next to me (who bless his soul, probably has dementia) says to me, "Excuse me," which I first pretended to not hear. He tries again so I acknowledge him. Then he throws at me "You have a big hook nose." Uhm...WHAT?! Thanks for pointing out my most hated feature dude! Wanna throw me some cash for a nose job? So instead I reply, "I sure do." Smile, Look away. Try to look busy. He's not done though. "I have one too but, *looks at me remorsefully* yours is worse."

Eff me, right? I swear this shit only happens to me.

My most embarrassing moment though - senior year of college. One day I wore thigh highs (without garters) to my internship and by the end of the day, they had gotten so loose that they were falling down my legs as I was walking down the hall. I tried to get to the bathroom by walking with my thighs clenched together to prevent them from falling any further. No use. They were goners. So I stopped and leaned against the wall trying to look like I was making a casual phone call to my best friend. I was looking for advice and moral support and all she was doing was laughing so hard she was crying. I couldn't bend down and lift up my skirt to pull them up without someone seeing me. I couldn't walk to a private place because they would be around my ankles by the time I got there. I was stuck. And mortified. My best friend stayed on the phone with me until the halls had cleared and I could pull them up without being seen. And laughed the entire time.

That was five years ago and I still blush thinking about it. This is my life though. Just going from one embarrassing moment to the next. Somebody, anybody - tell me something worse.

Summer's Last Hurrah

I told you I wasn't ready for summer to be over and I meant it! I'm currently in Myrtle Beach typing this post from the comfort of my mother's couch with a toddler screaming "mooooo!!!!" in my ear (she's mastered the cow noise).

My sister, my niece and I took the whole week off to squeeze all we could out of these last days of summer at my mom's house. We've been going to bed early and sleeping in late (or as late as the Em Monster will allow), outlet shopping, pool and beach hopping, and only eating healthy foods when absolutely necessary (my sister did drag me to Gold's Gym on Sunday and then I got a migraine that put me out of commission all day which only further proves my theory that I am, in fact, allergic to exercising).

This morning, in lieu of working out, we dug our forks into some delicious french toast casserole. We had a loaf of french bread that went stale so instead of throwing it out, I found this recipe for overnight blueberry french toast casserole. I threw everything into the crockpot last night and turned it on early this morning. It was so quick and so easy. And obviously delicious because it put everyone to sleep.

After everyone has woken up from their morning nap, we're piling into the car for another round of shopping followed up by a late-in-the-day trip to the pool (my poor skin can't take any more sun after yesterday's beach outing). 

I'm putting work and school out of my mind for the next few days and only focusing on relaxation. It really feels like home here and I'm going to soak all of this up before it's back to reality on Monday!

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday weekend! Think of me while you're answering emails at work today! 

Summer Forever!

I refuse to believe that this summer is coming to a close and I don't even have a tan to show for it. I don't know what the hell happened, or what I've been doing - but I feel like I got duped. Summer seemed to last forever when I was little. Now I feel like I never even had a break. That's because I didn't. Having responsibilities sucks. I'd much rather spend all day running around the neighborhood barefoot living off of nothing but popsicles. Who knew we had it so good back then?

Instead of embracing the inevitable change of seasons, I sat outside in the frigid 78 degree weather and ate a frozen Greek yogurt bowl. Here's my coping mechanism for some stuff everything: DENY DENY DENY! Works some of the time. 

On the topic of things I'm pretending aren't happening: school started this week for me. I was living in a fool's paradise there for a while. Apparently they've really churched up online classes so that they're on the same par as your typical "holy f*** I have an 8am lecture and I'm still drunk" class. I thought this was going to be a breeze. When I looked up all four of my class syllabuses (syllabi? no), I immediately sat in a corner and started rocking myself back and forth. This is gonna be a doozy.

All of you fools breaking out your fall decor can shove your pumpkin spice lattes where the sun don't shine! I'm a summer girl and you'll never win me over!

Home

Apologies for the radio silence! I've been running around the country (okay, just Michigan and DC) like a maniac this past week. This is the first chance I've had to actually sit down and write. Or even take a breath really. I'm so desperate for groceries, last night I had to eat nachos made of stale chips and string cheese. It was either that or applesauce for dinner.

I haven't been back to my home state since 2013, so this trip has been slightly overdue. I had a travel voucher that was about to expire (because basically anytime I fly, I bitch to the customer service reps to get free shit) so I decided to book a somewhat last-minute trip to Michigan for a long weekend.

Did you guys know you can randomly be assigned TSA PreCheck? I always thought it was something those rude and rushed businessmen applied for because they're much more important than everyone else. But this lucky girl got to keep her shoes on at the security screening! Also, I guess having PreCheck on your boarding pass means you can slip through security with a full 32oz water bottle and not get tackled and tazed (tased? whatever). Whoops. Shout out to Homeland Security's finest!

After I got something healthy to eat McDonald's, I didn't even have to look for my departing gate - I just followed all the people wearing camo. Not kidding. After a very turbulent flight (guys, thanks for not telling me about the tornado sirens), I arrived!

I grew up in Michigan. For 22 years it was really the only home I've ever known. So it was weird to be back and only vaguely remember road names and where they led to. I had to remind myself that the endless miles of green grass and trees is normal. I didn't realize how much I missed that. This was also my first time not staying in the home I grew up in (thanks for housing my broke ass, Sarah!). I've been living in DC for four years now and somewhere along the way, DC became my home. And that makes me sad. I have a very hard time leaving people and places behind, so Michigan will always have a very special place in my heart.

Basically I can sum up my entire trip with this: I ate a lot. 

When I first moved to DC, I hated it. I fought it for a year and a half, and now that I've stopped I've realized how great it is. Driving down the George Washington Parkway at night and seeing the monuments across the Potomac never ceases to take my breath away. It's not Michigan, but it's beautiful in it's own way.

Things change and we adapt to survive. We evolve. Things that you thought would always stay the same can change in an instant. It's jarring and it sucks and it's never easy. I guess the trick is to just let it happen. Let yourself evolve. Don't be afraid to let go of whatever you thought was a security - regardless of whether it's a person or a place. Go somewhere new. Be alone. Open your mind up to the idea that something different doesn't necessarily mean that it's bad. You're so much stronger than you think you are. All you need is you, so quit holding yourself back.

Nerd Alert

I've been toying with the idea of going back to school for about a year and a half now. For those of you who don't know, I have a B.S. in Creative Writing. I realized early on second semester of my senior year that job options were limited. I'm a writer (hence the blog) so I always knew that that's what I wanted to do. But nobody really told me that my chances of getting on the NYT Best Seller list and turning this into a profession are about as good as me actually finishing a novel (spoiler alert: I have yet to finish a novel). I kind of blame my parents and a slew of teachers (Mrs. Snode, Mr. Gragg, Mrs. Palace) for stroking my ego all those years and telling me how great of a writer I am (*brushes hair off shoulder*).

This is how I found myself in the legal business development/marketing profession - out of sheer randomness. I actually love what I do. It can be really fast-paced and our clients are always interesting. But three years later, I'm getting kind of bored. Fear not employer, I'm not leaving you. I'm just trying to make myself more useful. So I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali school, school.

I made 'dis. Just kidding, it's a filter.

I'm really intrigued by graphic design and web development. And I think I'll be good at it. I guess we'll find out though because I just enrolled myself in a program and wrote a big fat check. Alright, I charged my credit card (mom, if you're reading this...don't).

I'm mostly terrified. In addition to going to school full time (alright, it's 12 online credits, but still - it counts) I have a full time job, a part time job (thanks for the employee discount C&B!), and I'm also trying to get a business running (shameless self advertisement) while blogging about all of it here. What little social life I had is probably going out the window. Wish me luck.

What have you been dreaming about? Any other nerds out there who want to go back to school? And if you are juggling it all, do you have any tips for me?

I Woke up in a Trash Can

Yesterday morning was a typical Monday morning. I woke up, took a shower, and shoved half a pb&j sammy down my throat as I walked out the door. Just like any other day, the metro is experiencing delays so by the time I'm able to get on a train, we're all packed in like sardines. Thankfully, those surrounding me had remembered to wear deodorant.

Side rant: I'm 5'2"/5'3" ish. The metro is not designed for people of my height. If all of the seats are taken (which they always are) then I'm left with few options. Typically, I hang onto the pole overhead that is just barely out of reach and completely useless for stabilizing me as I'm just swinging about for the 12 minute commute. In addition, I'm almost always standing next to some asshole who thinks it's a good idea to read the newspaper which pokes me in the eye for the entire trip. I digress...

So by the time I get to work, I'm already queasy and sweaty. But this is typical for a DC summertime commute. Really. By 10:30, it feels like there is an ocean inside of my stomach and I can't stop burping. Super ladylike. All of the sudden I'm freezing cold and then five minutes later I want to rip all of my clothes off and lie naked on the floor. Remembering that my niece was just recently sick, I decide to give my sister a call to see how she's feeling.

Sure as shit, she's home sick and not five minutes after I hung up with her, I threw up twice, passed out and woke up in a trash can. Apparently, I tried to aim for the recycle bin while sitting in my chair and at some point during my pukefest, I passed out and landed with my head literally in the trash can. I woke up on the floor and all I could see was black. "WHERE THE EFF AM I?!" It actually took me a couple seconds to figure out what happened and why it was so dark. My coworkers (bless their souls) escorted me to the ladies room and I eventually caught a cab (who didn't mind my recycle bin buddy riding along) home.

obviously went with a filter to make myself look slightly less awful

I spent all day in bed moaning and groaning and not eating a thing. You guys, I didn't even feel up to watching The Bachelorette finale, that's how bad it was. This is the first time I've ever had the stomach flu and oh em gee I hope it was the last. 

It's officially been just over 24 hours and all I've had is a coffee frappuccino from Starbucks. Weighed myself this morning and I'm down to 133 lbs. Hell yeah! Silver lining!