First Meals, Pimped Out Bathrooms, and Teenage Drama

Posted on June 26, 2011 by admin

Mom's Mason jars and spicy apple teriyaki stir-fry

There’s something about the first meal you cook from scratch in a new apartment ( I mean house!) to make you feel like you’re finally settling in. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was the first time in months I 100% knew what was going into my body.  That’s actually kind of terrifying to think about.  I mean how often do you eat something delicious and go ” gee I wonder what’s in this? It’s not like there’s crushed up bugs in these doritos….” I know I just murdered some dreams. Dear fellow snack food consumers, I am so sorry. Dear Organic food consumers- remember beetle’s wings are ALL NATURAL. Yay! We’ve all eaten bugs!

Sarah's Crunkified Baniero

Anyway, today was also amazing because I woke up from my first sleep in a long time that wasn’t on couch, or a floor, or on a mattress from bob’s discount cheap ass mattress factory ( I am looking at you Travelodge). I will say by far the most memorable of such sleeping experiences, was my short stint at my  darling friend Sarah’s placebecause I got to use the pimpified bathroom with neon lights picturedto the right. Number one or number two- I felt cool using this loo. we could talk about how my mattress is on the floor of my soon to be beautiful bedroom, but frames are for suckers…errr people we’ve been in the country for more than a few weeks. WHY YOU TAKE SO LONG DELIVERY? (Ps. Can we talk about how cute my bed frame is going to be when it arrives? OMG, Sparkles!)  Although it may be the only piece of furniture that’s arrived,  I feel it pushes me one step closer to making this little English house a home.

 

It does not do to dwell on dreams & forget to live...

Speaking of it being an Engish home, lest we forget that I have a Harry Potter cupboard. This is where I will hide my small wizard child.  Or, according to my estate agent, I can rent it out to a student for 30 gpb per week. I kid you not, poor university kids pay to live in people’s under the stair cupboards!  am almost intrigued to do so, except this would inevitably lead to a house party when I was not home. I have seen enough teen dramas to know how these things pan out: bottles everywhere, some one pukes in my vase, there’s  the totally predictable relationship that everyone is shocked emerges, and some “ugly” girl takes her glasses off and is suddenly “hot.”  I’d miss all of it, because if you’re secretly throwing a house party in the house where you rent an under the cupboard cabinet- you’re not likely not going to invite your landlord. I mean I would spend everyday wondering if I was missing out on some juicy plot line and heavens knows I don’t need that kind of stress.

Now that life is getting back to normal, I promise to update the world on my adventures more often. And I will show more pictures of my house once I have a bit more furniture than a single mattress on the floor.  Love, peace, and day old bread.

 

 

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Goodbye New York

Posted on June 5, 2011 by admin

My first day in NYC

Today, well err yesterday I said goodbye to a city that had been my home for exactly 4 years to the month. I still remember my first day- the pride in quickly learning the subway, the sense of amazement and awe as I took in every shiny light, sequin, eccentric artist and homeless person, the scared shitlessness of being broke in a place where everything was so expensive, and the realization that suddenly more than ever I was going to have to grow up. I was young and naive, but I was eager.

Over these years I built my career, my family and myself with diet coke, sweat, late hours, and a couple of amazing and random nights. I feel inclined to make some cheesy analogy using flowers, caterpillars or pearls, but alas none of these can fully express how much my life has been sculpted and shaped over these past 4 years. Thankfully I did not have to grown on my own. The people brought into my life during my new york years have been some of the brightest, funniest, and most bizarre ( in a good way) I have ever met. I would be remiss if I did not thank them for their kindness, love and support they have so willing they given and continue to give to me. I understand dealing with unpredictable, loud mouthed, robot dancing me can be hard; their patience has not gone overlooked. Right now as I sit bawling my eyes out in a questionable London hotel I cannot help but to say thank you. You have made me feel loved in a city where so many feel alone.

My last day in NYC

Dancing and deliriously whipping our hair back and forth with reckless abandon. The summer days at the beach, and summer night spent sunburnt and sweating to the dull roar of the a/c. The thrill of the next big thing and the hours worked passing like minutes.  4 years of scandal, stupid fights, bad dates, and endless girly time spent rehashing and fixing it all over brunch. A season of cupcakes, frosted with countless adventures, and sprinkled with the unexpected. Being a model for a day, a pseudo-celebrity for a week, a poster child for a month, a seat filler for a year and a broadway fan for a lifetime. In a splattering of memories you can see why I will all ways be indebted to the city of big dreams, big personalities, and big apple(s). Thank you New York, I owe you one

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Renesting

Posted on May 27, 2011 by admin

As my move to London has been delayed I find myself rearranging  furniture, thinking about painting the walls, organizing and baking things like bread and pastry from scratch. Of course none of this makes sense as my move date is literally days, not weeks or months, away. All I can figure is that the female parts of my brain are on Martha Stewart hyper drive. MUST MAKE HANDICRAFTS. MUST COOK FOR NONEXISTENT FAMILY. MUST ATTACH RANDOM BRIGHTLY COLORED THINGS TO SHINY SPARKLY DOODADS WITH GLUE GUN. They say women nest when they move into a new home. They pull things out , rearrange them, and make it theirs. Maybe my body is trying to re-nest in this place as it’s been in the middle lands for too long? Perhaps my lady parts will go on strike if I don’t have a permanent home base soon.

I’ve semi stopped sleeping. Everyday i think the mail man will deliver my visa and I’ll be able to finally wrap everything up. Obviously he’s not going to come in the middle of the night, but apparently my body is having trust issues.

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I don’t whether to laugh or cry

Posted on May 27, 2011 by admin

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