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ROUTINE

Today I have this beautiful Tuesday afternoon off to do nothing but be in the quest of a full-time position. Earlier, as I busted out cover letter, after cover letter and tweaked my resume to fit one position verse another, my head started to hurt with the number of possibilities out there, or better, the lack of. As my ice coffee started to turn into a watery milky concoction, the Starbucks air conditioning seemed to turn up higher by the minute and I realized I was already on my third round of changed neighbors... I grabbed my bag and headed to the park for some fresh air, a beautiful view and a chance to sit and give all my attention to you, my readers.

Now, with no wifi to distract me, what exactly is there to say? 

Then the word hit me like a ton of bricks...

Routine. 

God, how that word scares me. It’s so easy to fall into a routine, and let it effect our daily lives. 

I have gotten myself out of the routine of posting due to being preoccupied with finding an apartment, finding a real job, working a lousy job and trying to enjoy some summer sun -- which in the end, all these reasons really just come down to excuses. As each day passes and I tell myself I am going to post that article I wrote on Miley Cyrus or share my one night stand experience, something stops me from sitting down and actually posting. I kept telling myself, “I always have tomorrow,” but, after two months of ‘tomorrows’ it’s time for me to sit down and figure out what really has been stopping me. 

Going to work hasn’t helped much either. Like most college grads, I found a difficult time getting a job right out of school. So, for the summer I decided to waitress at a hi-end hotel. Yes, the money was good, but as summer slowly dies down I can’t help but look at my fellow work friends and wonder, how at 29 years-old are they still bartending? That’s when I realized its simple -- they got into the routine of staying in their current situation. As time flew by, so did their fresh work experience as an HR coordinator or Strategic Analyst, and over time, they slowly got into the routine of letting their lives and their potential wash away into nothing. In an effort to not fall into this category -- I quickly told my manager last week to please cut my 40 hours a week down to 15, in order for me to get on track with my life, and to not fall into an unhappy lifestyle.

The most scary part of falling into a bad routine, is letting yourself believe that it’s okay. Its astonishing how much control we have over our brains and how easily we can manipulate them into making ourselves believe we are of less value then we actually are. In my case, I have gotten use to telling myself its all right to let my better judgment get the best of me. 

As I stare across the water at Roosevelt Island, I wonder how do I get myself out of the patterns I am so afraid of and into the life I know I am capable of having? This September will be the first time that I am not walking into a classroom. Being an adult is terrifying and this year will be the first year of my life where I decide what I am going to do with it.

I know that if I can just fall into the right routine of telling myself that I am capable of achieving -- than I am one step closer to being the woman I set out to be. 

Taking a brief hiatus from writing was tough on me -- I guess I had some soul searching to do. Sometimes it is hard to write when you have so much on your mind that you can’t pick one topic to focus on. But now, readers, I am back, ready to write and better than ever!

xo

THE NEXT CHAPTER

I grew up in sunny Clearwater Florida -- where its hot all year until a slight breeze makes its way through the palm trees between November and February. This was my favorite time of the year growing up. After the long, hot, sticky summers it was nice to have a change in the air. I use to walk home from grade school brushing my feet along the pavement, cluttered with newly fallen brown leaves, humming along with the wind as it guided my through my neighborhood to my home. As March rolled around, you could tell the season was changing back into a much missed sunny heaven when the jacarandas bloomed their beautiful lavender buds at the begging of spring. 

I guess I took all those things for granted while living here, because now when I come back to visit, I rush to the beach wondering why I didn’t go there every day of my childhood. I dig my feet into the sand as soft as baby powder, and stare in awe at how crystal clear and blue the water is. Watching the sun glisten off of the sand, making it sparkle, the moment is one of pure perfection. It’s hard to believe my childhood, my past, was in such a place of paradise.

So, after a week of rainy weather in the city, and in the need of some fresh air and sunshine, I packed my bags and booked a flight home.  Being back home seems different this time. It's the first time I have been back since I graduated college, and I can't help but think of the last major step I took in my life 4 years ago, when I graduated high school. I remember feeling on top of the word that summer -- anxious and excited for the future. Now as a college graduate, I'm still anxious for the future, but the excitement I felt in my post high school days is now filled with the dragging dread of realizing I have finally entered the big, bad real world. 

Home, is now just a place where my parents live, and the good old days of running around with my friends, the feeling of infinite happiness in our heart, the taste of freedom on our tongues, is long gone. These friends, who I considered family, are people who I look back fondly on. But now, with time getting the best of us, and life being so altered, I wonder if it would be awkward if I called them for a drink. 

This trip has made me realize how quickly life has changed. I never thought the day would come when I'd drop one dream and pick up another or be completely in love with a born and bred Jewish New Yorker.
 I never imagined I would be able to say I've already traveled the world or say I've started a blog where I'm comfortable spilling my guts to whomever chooses to read. 

But, not everything has changed. I am able to say I still have my 3 best friends, I still am a total romantic and I still am in love with New York City. 

As I lie on the beach now, with my pen and paper in hand, and my head full of thoughts, a group of teenage girls passes my towel -- one with short brown hair styled in a bob reminds me of myself at that age.
If only I could talk to my 18-year-old self, give her a bit of advice (although I don't know if she would listen). I wish I could tell her...

Don't give up, but don't set your hopes too high 

Don't loose sight on who you are, because you are truly a beautiful person inside and out

Continue to smile, to be silly and to keep your chin up 

And continue to always love fiercely. 

I know that 18-year-old girl would expect this 22-year-old to already have it all figured out -- with a career, a ring, and an apartment on Madison Avenue. But I've realized, its okay if I'm not there yet. It's okay that I'm still figuring out what path I'm meant to take in life. I'm confident that when the opportunity arises...it could be tomorrow, it could be next month, it could be in a year (although I hope not)... it will be the right time for me. 

For now, I'm content squishing my feet in the sand, with a rum runner in hand and the ocean only a few steps away. As I listen to the seagulls familiar call to each other overhead,
and feel the Florida sun beam onto my skin turning it into a much missed glowy bronze, I realize I'm more then content -- I'm where I need to be, and I could't be happier.

A FLOWER CAN MEAN MORE THAN YOU THINK

Flowers can be beautiful to look at, sure, but did you know that they each have their own special meaning? In the Victorian era, people would give each other flowers, depending on their message, as a romantic gesture. The receiver, would rush home to look up its hidden meaning in a flower dictionary and give a flower in response.  

I recently read a novel that was based off of this idea, and thought, how cool would it be if people still actually did this? I would give my best friend who I only see twice a year a freesia meaning "lasting friendship", fill my room with lupines for "imagination" and give my boyfriend a tulip to declare my love for him. 

 Thinking back, I have received a flower or two that meaning ironically makes sense now.

I thought it was kind of strange when my first boyfriend in college gave me a yellow rose, which I now know means "infidelity," and I can't forget the time a bad friend gave me a bouquet of peony's,   meaning "anger."

After what has felt like the longest winter in years, summer is finally here. The new warm weather makes the world seem bright and beautiful (even on this rainy evening). When I open my window in my tiny apartment, I can smell the fresh flowers from the florist around the corner. Its perfume begging me to come in and fill my room with flowers radiating love, creativeness and happiness.  

   

So, this summer, why not keep the tradition going and give someone special a flower with a meaning you want to convey? Here are some of my favorite flowers and their meanings:

Acacia -- Secret Love

Daffodil -- New Beginnings 

Wisteria -- Welcome

Camilla -- My Destiny In Your Hands

Baby’s Breath -- Everlasting Love

White Carnation -- Sweet and Lovely

White Clover -- Think of Me

Daisy -- Innocence

Ivy -- Fidelity

Lily of the Valley -- Return of Happiness

Magnolia -- Dignity

Jonquil -- Desire

Marigold -- Grief

Oleander -- Beware

Petunia -- Your Presence Soothes Me

Poppy -- Fantastic Extravagance

Red Rose -- Love

Pink Rose -- Grace

Yellow Rose -- Infidelity

Sunflower -- False Riches

Tulip -- Declaration of Love

Verbena -- Pray For Me

For more on the Victorian Flower dictionary check out this novel, The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh.

I LOVE YOU, BUT I LOVE ME MORE

Relationships are tough. You find Mr. Right, but there is that one thing that's off about him or you find the man you think is the love of your life, but can you really see yourself bringing him home to mom and dad?

Thrown with a battlefield of what's right and wrong, yes and no's and is the guy really worth it, you question what next moves you should make in your romantic life. Can't you just be thrown a wild card?
Sitting down with three girlfriends tonight -- each one of us different, each one of us with unique romantic paths -- I found we each had something very similar in our love expectations. No matter how much we may love a past boyfriend, we ultimately love ourselves more, and if our own personal goals, dreams and aspirations were to be effected by a man, that man, would have to go.
It made me wonder -- what makes woman so eager to give up their dreams for love? I have friends who have thrown away job offers, full ride scholarships to universities and their self respect, all for men. And hey, I've done it too. I let my first boyfriend physically abuse me, I missed out on a great career opportunity, and at one point put my relationship with my parents in jeopardy because they didn't get along with one of my ex's.
But at some point, something clicked in my mind saying, "That person is not you. What do YOU want?"
And what I found is that I want a healthy relationship full of laughter, security, trust and understanding. I want that balance of time spent between friends and boyfriends.
I want a career; To follow my dreams and for whomever I'm with to support and encourage me.

I want to do what I want to do.

Selfish, I know, but I only have one life to live. Every decision I make I want to look back with no regrets, knowing I've done what I've done because that's what was best for me at the time.

No matter how much I might love a man, I NEED to love myself more.

In my past relationships I didn't always like the person I had become, now I realize, how did I expect someone to love me, if I didn't love myself?
As I looked around the table last night at my friends, sipping on their cocktails and laughing about the past, I saw a group of woman who not only had learned to love themselves, but were open to love, as well.
And we, couldn't be happier.
Cheers to that! 

LOVE WILL MAKE YOU DO CRAZY THINGS

I see mothers hustling and bustling around New York City. They carry heavy strollers down subway steps, run after an energetic two year old on a crowded street, and play in concrete playgrounds with barbed wire fencing around them.

 

And after all this I have to wonder...will I ever be able to raise a family here?
Other then the fact it seems like a total nightmare, it can't be cheap raising a little one in the big apple. 

Thousands of young girls right out of college move to New York to follow their dreams, have the time of their lives and to hopefully fall in love. But how dangerous can falling in love be for a girl new to a big ol city, with the potential of finding "the one" and ultimately raising a family? I see it constantly -- young mothers schlepping their kids around, the chaotic stress they exuberate and the look in their eyes, pleading to anyone they lock gazes with, screaming "help me", is like seeing into a looking glass of the future.

I fell in love with a born and raised manhattan boy. Whose parents were both born and raised, and both sets of their parents were born and raised. So, guess where my man wants to have his kids ? That's right, in Manhattan so they can be born and raised.

Although marriage and a family might be a few years away for me, after over two years in a happy relationship, a girl can't help but have thoughts. And as a girl who grew up living ten minutes from the beach, with a jungle in her backyard, I can't help but hope for something similar for my kids one day or at least a backyard and a white picket fence!

Alas, as I fall more in love with Mr. Manhattan, I can't help but bring up sweetly "You know, there are lovely places outside the city with only a 20 minute commute!"

But today, when I witnessed a man hurry past a woman with her two little kids, pushing all three of them into the street where a speeding taxi nearly just missed them, I thought, can I really do this? 

As a frantically pulled out my cell phone and started typing to my boyfriend "I'll take Brooklyn, Queens, hell even the Bronx!" I hit the backspace button, took a deep breath and kept walking.
They always say love will make you do crazy things you never deemed possible -- whoever "they" are.

WARNING! YOU MIGHT GET SICK...

We've all had those nights when we got too drunk and threw up in the bars bathroom
... it happens! But, what should we do when adding a sexy guy to the equation? Do we go through with hooking up with him or does are conscience stop us?

A girl in my office told me she had this dilemma a few nights ago. Her in the guy went back to his place and she wasn't sure if she should go through with staying over knowing she had gotten sick.
After a few laughs and shared stories about how many times a similar thing had happened to me or someone I had known, I got to thinking -- how many other girls have struggled with a similar scenario?  

And here's what I decided is the safe answer. It all depends on the location that the dirty deed is done.  

@ the bar : Go for it!

@ home : No way. 

My reasoning? Bars are loud, crazy and filled with commotion. If you puke in a bar its easier to hide the evidence. Chances are if you are able to order another drink, socialize, dance and pretend like nothing happened ... you'll probably be fine for the time being. Pop a mint and don't let your little uh oh ruin your fun night. Hey -- you didn't wear those cute CFM pumps for nothing!

But, if you spill the beans once back at you apartment (or worse his) its better to call it quits for the night. With the dark lights, loud music and people gone, the mood at home is totally awkward if you get sick. And in the case that your in a white bathroom with bright lights, feeling the pressure to get back to the bedroom where a guy awaits you (who probably just heard you yak your brains out), the situation becomes all too real and even more nauseating.
Plus, your bad breath is definitely not sexy. 

Verdict says: call a cab!