NYC: Six Month Review

You guys. Has it really been six months since I moved here? Holy. Shit. I know some of you have been wondering how I've been adjusting. That's a lie. My mom is probably the only one who wonders about that and I talk to her like every other day. Anyways, I realized I hadn't posted in a while and thought this would be an interesting distraction for those of you who are at work, trying to find something to do until quittin' time (looking at you, sis....Amanda, while I have your attention - EMPTY THE J.CREW ONLINE SHOPPING CART BEFORE YOUR HUSBAND KILLS YOU).

The Rent: This was my biggest concern when contemplating the move. I thought I was going to be eating canned tuna and saltines in order to afford my rent which is so far from reality - a.) because I don't eat canned tuna and b.) because it's really not that much more than what I was paying in DC. It's also 100% worth the cost considering the amazing views I have when I wake up in the morning. If you follow me on Snapchat you've probably seen the view from my bedroom because I spam everyone at least once a week with a shot of it. Not sorry. 

The Rats: I've not seen a one.

The Subway: Honestly, I never take it. I walk almost everywhere and Uber everywhere else. On the few occasions I've taken the subway, I got where I was going on time and also didn't die. That's a lot more than I can say for DC's system which is currently rotting away along with our new administration. I digress.

The People: Hollywood likes to portray everyone in NYC as an asshole. Let me be clear, the concentration of assholes in this city is much higher than anywhere else. That being said, I still believe in the greater good of the human race and I've met quite a few strangers who have been extremely nice. I've also noticed that a lot of people here say they're going to do something and then don't. Like, don't ever just assume that because someone says they want to hang out this week that you're actually going to hang out. Make backup plans. And backup plans for your backup plans, etc.

The Dates: Keeping my lips sealed :)

The Nightlife: Everything revolves around alcohol. Don't expect to do anything sober. Also, no one told me that I'd need a completely separate wardrobe for weekends. In DC, you can get away with wearing flats, cigarette pants, and a button down to the bar. Here you need heels, an all black ensemble, and visible flesh in order to be allowed into an establishment. Noted.

I still can't believe I packed up my entire life and moved to a strange city. This is the scariest thing I've ever done but I'm so glad I did it. Moral of the story is, it's never too late to change direction.

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

2016: Year in Review

Ran my second half marathon. Injured. Again. Surprised my best friend after a 4 year drought. Scrapped a writing project. Questioned my writing ability. Started a new project. Celebrated my 27th birthday. Panicked that I'm almost 30. Went to Florida. Went to Michigan. Went to New York. Went to South Carolina. Finished school. Swore to never ever go back to school ever again. Ever. Contemplated a move to NYC. Wrote this. Went blonde. Again. Quit my job. Packed up my entire life. Moved to NYC (!!!!). Started a new job. Questioned my sanity. Welcomed my nephew into the world. Went on some shitty dates. Then had some pretty great ones. Saw Mat Kearney live. Saw NeedtoBreathe live. Met Robby Hayes. Fangirled. Stayed out too late. Woke up too early. Stopped saying no when I should say yes.

So 2016 wasn't all bad. 

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