Ding-dong Ditch

One of my college professors once posed the question, "What is the one topic that you cannot make a joke about?" The class provided answers like, "the Holocaust", "abortion", "rape", yet there was always someone who had an example wisecrack at hand. I'm sure you know of, and have cringed or laughed at some of these jokes. Maybe because you were uncomfortable, maybe because you actually found them funny, maybe because everyone around you was laughing and you didn't know what to think.

If you know me, you know that I love to laugh and I'm rarely serious. Heck, my last post was about something that had me laughing during a time in my life where I find it difficult to make contact with my joyful side. I had an experience today, though, that did not make me crack a smile, not even once. However, it appears that other people found some humor in it. Maybe because they were uncomfortable, maybe because they actually found it funny, maybe because they've never really had to worry about this in their own lives and they didn't know what to think.

I talked to my mother on the phone this morning and she told me to keep my eye out for a surprise package that she over-nighted in the mail. I kind of gave her a hard time about it. We had missed the delivery yesterday and no one in the apartment knew who was supposed to sign for it. If we missed delivery again, someone was going to have to haul ass to the Bronx to pick it up. We do not go to the Bronx. Anyway, mom told me that she sent along my favorite candy and a card as a little pick-me-up to help with the stress I've been under. I thanked her, apologized for being a brat, and waited for my Sarris Jellybeans to arrive.

Around 11:15a there was a ring at the door, and I buzzed the courier in to my building. My roommate's dog went ballistic at the knock, and so I had to shout over him to talk to the delivery man. I mentioned my aggravation with the barking, and we made a little small talk. He told me not to let my roommate hear how annoyed I was with the dog, and I let slip that she was at work. The air of the conversation changed.

"Are you Callie?" He asked, checking the package. I confirmed and accepted my white envelope. Then, not missing a beat, he said my last name and asked if it was French. At that instant I remembered the last time this particular man had delivered a package to me.

That first time, he had also asked about my last name, and if it was my husband's name. Who asks that? The experience the first time had weirded me out and I even called my mom to tell her how skeeved I was. Living in NYC, there are a lot of little skeevie things that tend to happen and I don't really make a habit of filling my parents in on them, mostly because I don't want to wake up to them packing my life into a U-Haul and driving me home in parental terror. I've got mace, my friends and I drop-pin, it's not a big deal and you learn to be a little wiser, okay?

So, taken aback, I responded, "No, its German". Making no move to leave and continue his deliveries, he queried, "Oh, is your husband German?". Questions about my 'husband' once, odd. Questions about my 'husband' twice, and that's a cause for concern. This man knows that I am currently alone in my apartment, and he has asked for the second time if a man is ever around. Imagine how that would make you feel.

In a stammering idiotic I-don't-know-what, I said "Yeah he's German too. He's away on business right now."

Yeah I know I'm a moron. I'm slapping myself in the face now for even speaking those words. But I didn't know what to say or do and I was really feeling uncomfortable and they happened. His response? To reference his stylus and ask me for my phone number. When I started with the area code, he made a face, which stopped me in my tracks.

When has a FedEx courier ever asked you for your phone number? Especially after you've already identified yourself and signed for your package. So I called him out, and told him I'd never needed to provide that before. He chuckled and said, "Well your husband is away for work so I figured I'd give you a call." I laughed it off and made to close the door and he didn't push it. He did not need my phone number at all (which was confirmed by the depot's senior manager later tonight).

So to recap: this man- short, olive skinned, in his 50s, profiled me. He asked if I was alone, was there a man close to me, how could he contact me. Are you laughing? Because I couldn't.

There are some pretty absurd things that happen to me. I can chuckle at some pretty crappy experiences, but this one doesn't get included in that category. No witty quips ran through my head when I thought about it. What was on my mind? How scared I would be if he showed up at my apartment one night. Or in the next 10 minutes. How much I didn't want him to force his way into my apartment, or take me out of it, because I was alone and he could probably take me down. As a woman, I have to think that way. Because it happens and it happens a lot. I've watched enough SVU and programs on Oxygen to know that this man was acting like a predator.

I was actually so upset and worried that I went to Facebook and made a short post about what happened. I figured, hey, if something really does happen, they'll know where to start looking. I called my mom again. She, among others, urged me to call and make a complaint, which I did.

The way the system works, I literally was on the phone all day. From my first call at 11:36a to my last one received at 6:04p. I jumped through the company's hoops-- the first person I talked to didn't report it properly and connected me with the site in the Bronx, where I was informed the manager was 'out' and would call later. After a few hours, I had to call back to see what was going on. Customer service had no record of my complaint, so I had to say it again. I was then transferred. I had to say it again. We called the site manager, again. He was in a meeting, would call back in 10 minutes. Thirty minutes later I was back on with customer service, asking why he didn't call. When he finally got in touch, he informed me that they would "handle it internally" and my request that he no longer deliver to me "could be made, but that didn't mean anything would actually happen". I wasn't satisfied with that answer. This guy, who I had been totally creeped out by was going to know that I filed a complaint about him and he knows where I live and could potentially be at my door again. And I don't even know his name, in the case that this would go further. So it was back on the phone with customer service. Hours later, I finally was connected with the senior manager of the site who informed me that my request would be granted, which is the best I could hope for.

My whole day was caught up in this one event. I had to repeat the details over and over and wait around for hours just for verbal confirmation that he couldn't deliver to me any more. That doesn't erase the fact that he knows where I live, but it's something. Now could you imagine the process if something worse had happened? How many times would I have to share those details? With how many different people? And how terrifying it truly is that this is a reality for some. I didn't feel safe because of some probing and inappropriate questions. What if he'd gone farther?

Have you laughed yet?

Someone has.

My Facebook status received a lot of suggestions and observations from my friends. It was interesting to note, though, that humor was found in the situation by some of my male pals. Some who I consider to know me very well and personally, all who I have no moral issues with and quite like. I'm not mad at them, necessarily, but I am surprised that their initial reactions were light. Not one of the women who commented said anything in that vein. We know the reality, we've been taught that we are targets since we were little and we are reminded every day. You don't let it get you down, you stay smart about it, and that's how you move on with your life.

But...

... some people 'lol'.

So, to you who have all made it to the end of this lengthy post from my soap-box, what is the one thing you cannot make a joke about? Because one of your friends potentially being sexually violated and murdered made the cut. 

NOkCupid

Ok everyone, this is basically just filler since I've been increasingly absent. Life has been pretty insane and I'm not quite ready to relate it all to you. However, someone once said that 'laughter is the best medicine', so why don't we give that a shot? In my opinion, finding people who are crazier than you are is really the best medicine, but, to each his own.

Out of boredom and some deep-seated need to be reckless I reactivated my OkCupid account. For the second time, I found the thing to be rather uncomfortable and strange, and ended up deactivating as soon as I could. But not before I received some of these gems from my adoring admirers.

1. Re: My alleged likeness to Shannen Doherty. Maybe hold off on the superficial insults regarding female beauty, mirror-selfie guy. At least until the second or third message.

2. I'd be offended, but he's kind of spot on here. 

3. Ew. Let's make that 38% enemies. 

And that was the end of that. Hang in there, people. Winter is almost over.

Before I go, an update for those DYING to know what happened to my date with the open container: he lives! And he visited my profile an hour after I reactivated (duh, no one can resist this).

Glad you made it through the storm, buddy and I appreciate you not abducting me. Also- thanks for not calling, ass.

So this is my new life? I'll take it.

Today was something else. Here, at the end of it, I am sitting cross-legged in my bed, head spinning in awe of where I am. The best part is that I get to keep going tomorrow.

I spent the bulk of my day the way everyone should: with my best friend. 

Around noon, I lugged my brand new acoustic Washburn guitar and my sad Staples brand 1-subject notebook full of monologues to Nazlı's apartment. After a month of dragging our feet, the two of us had finally given up our silly and unfounded fears of working in front of each other and were ready to get down to business. To break the ice (so to speak), we made a little music. Nothing out of this world, I'm sure, but I pity those who haven't had the chance to perform a sick acoustic rap version of Justin Bieber's 'Boyfriend'. 

You know you wish you were there. 

And afterwards, I got to experience the joy I haven't felt for a long, long time. Instead of falling victim to the terror that accompanies performing a character in front of your best friend, I stood up and let myself be in the moment. And it was so much fun. The bigger reward? I got to watch her do the same. I don't know how, but somewhere along the way I did something right to be surrounded by such amazing talented people, and this girl is absolutely no exception. I left her apartment with spirits high.

Later tonight, I headed (way) downtown to babysit one of my favorite kids, a precocious 8 year old girl, who is seriously the most creative child I have ever had the pleasure to hang out with. The past few times I've watched her, we've written plays and sang showtunes and danced around like only 8 year old girls can. Tonight: Just Dance 4 was on the menu. Yes, I did get 4 stars the first time I danced 'Call Me Maybe', AND she told me she thought I was "really cool". That's a direct quote. We ate some chocolate, read a few books, and off to bed she went. At that point, I was congratulating myself on having an amazing day. Little did I know, it was only going to get better. 

When her parents came home, they surprised me with a gift bag from the event they had just attended. This event just happened to be the NYC premiere of HBO's GIRLS, Season 2. That's right, I said it. I scored swag from one of my favorite shows, and it is awesome. Here, for your viewing pleasure, is my bag and all of its wondrous goodies.

Going clockwise from 'midnight':

-Two custom chocolates from The Baking Bean

-A Birchbox carepackage (2 leave-in conditioner samples by L'Oreal, a Tili bag, 'Mary-Lou Manizer' highlighting eyeshadow from The Balm, and a sample of 'eau flirt' perfume by Harvey Prince)

-Assorted GIRLS gummies

-Love & Toast all-natural lip gloss in 'Prep School' (74)

-GIRLS nailpolish in 'Marnie' by Deborah Lippmann

-'Jessa' nailpolish appliqués by Incoco

- 'Exquisite Oil' replenishing hair serum by MATRIX

-Cinnamon Lip Balm by Sprout, a Brooklyn-based cosmetic company

-Eyeshadow by Urban Decay in 'Midnight Cowboy'

-'Read My Lips' tea, courtesy of DAVIDsTEA (one of my favorites!!!)... consisting of black tea, peppermint, dark chocolate, sprinkles, and pink peppercorns.

-'Coral Beach' blush + bronzer by Cargo

-An Aerie carepackage, complete with 10 samples of their perfume 'Hidden Love', and a $50 off any purchase card

Excuse my french, but holy shit. This rocked my world. I love GIRLS. I love beauty products. And I love free things. I'm going to call this one a triple-threat.

And on top of that, I got paid. 

Unable to believe my good fortune, I stumbled (sleepily) to the train station, where I hopped on the A and was soon met with another bit of good fortune. Somewhere around the UWS, at 1:30am, a cellist and a bassoon player pulled out their instruments and began to play 'Stand By Me', to which a slightly disgruntled passenger irreverently rapped along, creating something both ridiculous and beautiful. As we continued to ride uptown and passengers departed our car, we learned that none of the musicians actually knew each other. What we had all witnessed was a pure, improvised, wonderful collaboration between three strangers on a subway train. 

The whole time I couldn't stop thinking: I live here. I am a part of this. And I am so at peace with where I have ended up and where it can take me. This one day has been so full of wonder-- from the great big gift of collaborating with my best friend, to the unexpected perks of my job-- and I can't sleep because of it. 

It's like I'm a kid too anxious for Christmas... except my Christmas is my life. 

Risky Business

Most people don't set a lot of stock in "New Year's Resolutions", and I'm the kind of person who tends to fizzle out half way through challenges of this sort (see: this and this if you have any doubts about me). This year, however, I resolved to take more risks, and carried this mantra through all twelve months of 2012.

The idea of taking more risks evolved from my boredom with my play-it-safe personality. I see myself as a person who lives in a state of constant fear, and, while my fear doesn't always cripple me, it mostly leaves me with a white-bread type of existence. Bland. Boring. Blah.

At the beginning of this year, I knew that I had a lot of big things ahead-- with college graduation and whatever comes after being the most gigantic of all. This alone scared me beyond belief. After thinking on and worrying about the unknown in my impending future, I came to the realization that playing it safe wasn't an option if I really wanted what I 'want' out of life. You can't make an omelet without breaking some eggs, you know? And so, take more risks was born.

Now, for your viewing pleasure, I will profile 5 of the most poignant risks I embarked on. Some are huge, some are small. But all of them scared the hell out of me, so that has to count for something.

5. The OK!Cupid Date
Not one of my brightest endeavors, but I think we can all agree that it was pretty damn risky. It all started when my NYU friends and I sat down for dinner together (complete with the best pumpkin risotto you've ever tasted, by the way). We were reveling over one's onslaught of dates over the past week when she admitted that she'd made a profile on the dating site, OKCupid, at the urging of a friend. Now, the rest of us operated under the assumption that only weird young people or old people in general had to use the internet to get a date. Crude, I know, but you were making these generalizations too, and you know it.

We were a little shocked and intrigued that our friend, who is totally normal and a catch, was picking up men who weren't murdering her on the web. And she seemed to be having some success at it. So I, being the only other single lady of the group, told her I'd do it too. Partly because who doesn't like a good date, but mostly because creeping on other peoples' dating profiles is wildly entertaining.
I made a profile and within a matter of minutes the views and messages started coming in. The way OKCupid works is that you type up some profile responses (What are you looking for, what movies do you like...) and answer some questions (Are women obligated to shave their legs? How do you feel about S&M?) and the site calculates a love match percentage, friend percentage, and enemy percentage between you and other users in your area. After getting some really titillating messages (i.e., 'hey', 'nice freckles', 'what r u wearing 4 hlwn grl?'), one hit my inbox that made me laugh out loud.
I won't bore you with the details, but, long story short, I decided to respond and we hit it off. Eventually the conversation lead to whereabout in NYC we lived. And we lived in the same neighborhood. In the same apartment complex, to be exact.

Truly, this was weird and exciting at the same time, and I was feeling pretty risky. So I accepted his suggestion that we meet in an hour and take a stroll around our complex. At 9pm. In the dark. In NYC. Alone. Hey, I already said it was not one of my brightest endeavors. Also, it gets a little worse.
However, I did call Nazlı (who at this point probably wanted to have me committed) and informed her that, if I didn't call her in an hour, I was dead and to call the police. A solid plan, as plans go.

So I left the safety of my home and headed to 'the fountain' to meet Greg. He brought wine in coffee tumblers for us to share as we took our walk. Literally the only demand my mother has ever made of me is: never drink from an open container, and what do I do?

I drink it and repeatedly ask him if he's going to murder me, that's what.

Despite all of the horrible ways this could have gone, I made it out OK and we actually had a pretty good time. I was excited that someone had the same sense of humor I did and a similar drive to make it happen in this city. We parted and agreed to see each other again.

Then the hurricane happened and I never heard from him again.
My friends maintain that he probably didn't make it out alive, but I sincerely hope, Greg, that you're just a typical guy who never called.

4. Letting Go
This year I learned that it is perfectly alright to sever ties with someone you once considered a close friend. This was not a particularly fun experience, but taking the risk of giving up on someone who meant a lot to me has actually paid off in the end. Growing is the way-of-all-things, and growing apart happens.

In my experience, one of my best friends and I stopped seeing eye to eye in a major way. I'm not entirely sure how we progressed to the mess we ended in, but I know that I found myself feeling harassed by someone that was taking, taking, taking what I'd given, and who was giving nothing but hurt in return. I'm sure she felt hurt by me, too, but attempting to find out what exactly I'd done became time consuming and fruitless and exhausting. I found myself lacking the fighting spirit to navigate through all the name-calling and pull it back together.

This was terrifying. She had been one of my closest friends for years and was an integral part of two of my dearest friend groups. I was wary of putting those groups at risk and making things 'weird' for everyone, and I was also really scared that somehow I would end up alone. But things came to a head and I finally had to say enough, and let it go. I had to stop answering baited text messages. I had to stop worrying about the effects this was going to have on other people. Because, really, it was having the biggest effect on me, and my life, and my happiness.

So I cut the cord. And it was painful. It still makes me sad, in a way. However, it empowered me to surround myself with people who lift me up, rather than bring me down. My other friendships were strengthened, and I really feel as though I'm in a better place.

3. Reaching Out
In high school, I had a wondrous broken-hearted-teenage-love saga that has pretty much shaped all of my romantic relationships up to this point. It was a secret crush, that turned into a friendship, that almost turned into a ?, that left me hanging for a solid part of my teenage years. Looking back, it all feels strangely similar to this:

One thing is for sure: being left hanging screws you up way more than rejection does. I have serious trust issues (don't we all) and I think the root of it lies in the horror of possibly being taken for a ride again. So how do you fix that in yourself? If you're me, the first step is to gather your wits and reach out to your friend/the ex-object of your affections who you've been estranged from for four years.
While home for the holidays, we met and caught up over a few drinks. I was nervous going into it, but genuinely curious as to what ever became of him. Despite all those years of my love-worn journaling, we actually had managed to form a close friendship, so it was important to find out if he was doing OK.
And, turns out, he is. It was so easy jumping back into our rapport. My anxieties went right out the window and I really enjoyed slipping back into our rhythm. He's still a match for my sass, and that's saying a lot, people.
So reaching out, while terrifying at first, had a big payoff for me. The ease and normalcy of it all reminded me that I am nowhere near the confused little girl I was in high school, and it gave me the chance to let go of those silly insecurities that I had been holding on to with a vice-like grip. Taking a risk to put myself back into a place where I had previously been so vulnerable took a lot of courage, and ultimately changed me for the better.

2. Driving
I have always been convinced that my death will be the result of a freak motor-vehicle accident. It's completely morbid, I know, but that's all part of my charm. So it's safe to say that I can get slightly high-strung while,
a.) in the passenger seat of anyone else's car (it's a control thing), and
b.) driving somewhere new and/or dangerous.
And by high-strung, I mean like an antelope running from a pack of predators, high-strung.

Surprisingly, I did really well when the time came to drive the bustling streets of New York City. In a 14' moving truck.

I had to move from my first apartment on November 29th and decided to rent a U-Haul and round up some friends, in order to save a few bucks. Well, since the truck was in my name, I had to drive the monstrosity from the depot to my apartment across town. And then parallel park. Luckily for me, I had Nazlı and another friend in the cab with me to give words of encouragement and record the experience for posterity.

The Terror on 23rd Street

Making that drive and doing it in a mostly composed manner was a great victory for me. Risk taken, fear conquered! 

And onto the biggest risk I think I have ever taken... 

1. Leaving NYU
In October of this year, I hit a wall. While attempting to deal with the fact that I was completely and utterly miserable in my program, I finally took a step back and admitted that Speech-Language Pathology is not for me.

I am, and always have been, an actor, and that is the direction in which I need to take my life.

This decision was not taken lightly. I've had to come to terms with the perils of the lifestyle I am choosing. I've had to face my fear of disappointing the people who love me. I've had to swallow the lump in my throat and fight the anxiety that comes with saying "I am dropping out of school".

Doesn't that just have the worst connotation? It still makes me cringe, but dropping out is exactly what I'm doing and I won't take it back. I have serious pride/perfectionism issues, and pushed myself to finish out my semester, however torturous these past months have been. I don't think many people could do that and succeed.

So here I am. Another struggling actor in New York City. I have a plan, as usual, but now I have to learn that you can only plan so much. The rest is an unknown, a ?, a risk. I am so excited to finally embrace who I am and what I love. I'm no longer dipping a toe in the water, I'm doing a cannonball and laughing all the way.

This year is quickly coming to a close. I took risks. I changed. I had some really stellar and strange and enlightening and crushing experiences. But the point of all that is: I'm still here and I've grown up and I'm striving to live my dream. What a payoff.

Looking ahead...

2013: Allow yourself to be vulnerable.

... What are you doing?

Rock Ya Like a Hurricane

The hurricane has come and gone, but New York is still feeling it. I have been lucky enough to escape Sandy's wrath with only minor inconveniences. I attribute this blessing to the amazing people in my life who have taken care of me for the past week.

On Saturday night (before the storm), some friends and I prepared to head out to a Halloween party. Always striving to be a topical smart-ass, I dressed as "Hurricane Sandy", taking care to make myself as messy and annoying as possible for the joke. Ha ha.

"Sandy" with her friend "Crying Kim Kardashian"

Little did we know that the storm would be much more than the warning everyone scoffed at.

On Sunday, I headed off to work in the UWS. I had some Halloween brownies all ready for the kids and was looking forward to a long day with the family. In the morning, we all trouped to a Halloween party at a kids' gym and enjoyed play time and music. I especially enjoyed little costumed babies running around everywhere!

It was only after the party, when we headed home for nap time, that I began to realize the gravity of the hurricane situation. My phone had a billion text messages from friends, roommates, and family reacting to the news that I was only just getting clued into: the trains were being shut off at 7PM, classes were canceled Monday, and my apartment was in Zone A-- which meant mandatory evacuation.

I'll be honest when I say I was a little freaked out. I have a tendency to get carried away with end-of-the-world fantasies, and all this panic at once was starting to do me in. Upon hearing the news themselves, my bosses, Mr. and Mrs. C, insisted that they drive me home to my apartment AND to Nazlı's place in Washington Heights, where I would be staying. Talk about kindness. I could have hopped on the train, gone home, grabbed some things, and trekked up to the Heights myself before 7PM (when the trains would be out), but the family made it a priority to make sure I was safe and settled as quickly as possible. I can't express how thankful I am for this gesture. How lucky am I to work for some truly wonderful people?

I made it to Nazlı's place around 4PM and we settled in for the storm with an impromptu costume party, some wine, and a cauliflower crust veggie pizza we (Nazlı) made from scratch. Was this evacuation or the best slumber party ever?

"Big turn out"-our friend Laura via facebook

We followed the news the best we could and, over the next few days, braced ourselves for the worst. Washington Heights lies pretty high above the Hudson River, so we had no worries of flooding, and our apartment was largely shielded from the strong storm winds. We have even been so lucky as to have had electricity, heat, and hot water throughout the storm.

Here, however, are some images from where I live in Zone A:

Water rushing through my apartment complex

Transformer blowing at the plant at the end of my street. I see this place from my bedroom windows every day... too scary.

When transit was semi-restored on Thursday, I made the trip downtown as far as I could, then walked 40 minutes to my apartment to assess the damage. I convinced myself I was in an episode of The Walking Dead while I was climbing 7 flights of stairs in absolute pitch-darkness. Where's that damn Carl kid when I need him? (If you don't get that, do yourself a favor and start watching this series on AMC)

Luckily- no damage to report other than the loss of nearly all the food in our fridge. I was worried the transformer explosion blew out our windows-- is that even a thing? I don't know, but bottom line: they were OK.

By Friday evening, the news was spreading that power had been restored! While I had truly been enjoying my rare friendship time with Nazlı, I was anxious to get back into my routine and get out of her (and her roommate's) hair. It is definitely hard to be out of your own space for longer than you expect. I mean, I had assumed I'd be spending one night-- not an entire week! Knowing that I had 2 midterms on Monday plus a lot of other things to get in gear for (news of that to come in the future...) had me at a solid 8.5 on the Anxiety & Irritability Scale. All was not lost, however, because of two things:

1. Nazlı, while equally as irritated and stressed, puts up with my crap anyway.
2. Jake Gyllenhaal exists.

Okay, I'll admit we only initially wanted to see If There is I Haven't Found it Yet... because he was starring in it. Neither of us looked up what the play was about or kept up with critical reviews and we got $20 cheap seats in the last row. Effort points: 0.

HOWEVER: Once Friday night came, we realized that there was so much more to this show. Our seats were awesome, the performance was superb on every level (technical, direction, acting), and we even forgot that we were watching a celebrity on stage. We were impressed and our spirits were lifted! Huzzah!

Saturday came and I trekked home once more to see if we did indeed have power. Check! Thanks to the tireless efforts of ConEd, mta, and others, life is starting to feel more normal here in the city.

Sunday night after work, a full week after my evacuation, I finally moved back into my apartment. While there is certainly a lot left to be desired with this situation (our heat/hot water don't seem to be working, trains are spotty), it's good to be home.

Looking back on this week, I am once again reminded of all that I have to be thankful for. The greatest of thanks go out to all those who sheltered and looked after me, to those who checked in on and worried about me, and especially to those who are fighting to get New York back on track.

You're So Vain

Last post I boldly challenged myself to go without make up for a week. I set some ground rules (dress and do hair as I normally would, nothing on my face except moisturizer and chapstick) and started my journey full steam ahead!

It is with great courage that I move forward with this post.
[Note: I only took one picture for each day-- no glamorizing or posing or trying harder, I am what I am.]

Friday

I was completely enthusiastic at this point. I was having a decent hair day and I was ready to prove that what's on my face has nothing to do with who I am. I took notes during the day. One I find particularly telling is as follows:

"1PM: Forgot I'm naked faced! Its also pouring down rain and awful out so I feel like there is more leeway for looking like a hot mess. Thanks for the support, Mother Nature"

So the bold, fearless, naked face woman who left the house that morning melted into a self-deprecating one by early afternoon. Did I really look like a hot mess simply because I didn't have make up on?? Doubtful.

 Saturday

Struggles. This is me on the way to the gym. Emotionally, I was feeling motivated and excited with the way life was going (which is why I was headed to work out-- who am I?), but look at that face. Does my joy radiate out at all? No. I was already over-thinking the picture for this blog. Instead of being less preoccupied with the way I looked, I became even more so.

Things came to a head when, later that day, I was called to babysit for a family I had never met in Tribeca. For those of you who aren't familiar with the area, I'll put it simply: these people are loaded and wildly successful. Kind of intimidating, huh?

Instant reaction: panic. Oh my god they are going to be expecting a pretty nanny and their first impression of me will be as a tired little boy!!

So I cheated. Only a little, but still. I put on a little face powder and some mascara and went on my way, feeling way more relaxed at this tiny change.

Do I think the family judged me by my lack of va-va-voom? Honestly, I don't know. I don't have any other experiences to base my impressions on. But I do know that I assumed they did, and I let that stick with me all night long.

Sunday

Went to work tired, came home from work tired. Worried about more impressions all day. I must have looked beat, because in the park some mothers said to me, "Wow, these twins are yours? Must be a lot of work!" I wanted to say, Ladies, if I am 23 years old with toddler twins do you think we'd be playing in the Trump Plaza playground?? No, we'd be in line for foodstamps.

Monday

School time. I spent the morning tweaking out and decided that oh, I'd just wear my glasses to hide my exhausted eyes. I dressed and did my hair as I always do (I swear I brushed it, even though this shot says otherwise), and headed off to class. I spent the day, predictably, making jokes about what a wreck I am. Not as a way to fish for compliments, but so that I could make sure that everyone knew that I knew I looked the way I did.

You follow me?

Tuesday

Gym time again. Cue the humble 'well, this is it' look into the camera. Tyra would not be impressed.

And this is where the challenge comes to a screeching halt. Because after I returned home from my work out, I caved.

Some friends and I were going to How I Met Your Mother Trivia at McGee's Pub and there was NO WAY I was going to show up looking insecure. I put on my make up and joyfully headed out for a night of fun.


Here's where the break-through happened: The feminist inside of me is dying a little as I say it, but wearing make up is a way for me to be confident in my self presentation. Stepping outside of the situation, I know that I don't even abuse the privilege, so is it really all that wrong to gloss over some of my 'imperfections' if it eases my anxiety and makes me happy?

What's on my face does have to do with who I am. It shows that I am well put together. It shows that I care what impression I make on people who know me and people who don't know me. That's me in a nutshell: I've got it (mostly) together and I care. I'm a perfectionist. There's no denying it.

I know we aren't 'supposed' to care what others' think. But having a little make up on gets me to that level. I worried more about my image without it than I ever had with the little bit of flourish I sport daily.

In addition, I learned that failure is in the eye of the beholder. Yep, here's another week-long challenge I didn't exactly complete. But after I got on with my life, I had a great rest of the week.

I had an amazing time at trivia (5th place out of 21 teams, yeah!) and I didn't worry about my face.
I had an amazing day Wednesday and I didn't worry about my face.
I am having a solid Thursday and haven't worried about my face.

'Failure' is a technicality. But in the end, my last few days have made me feel like a winner because I was finally able to get outside of myself and focus on the awesome people filling my life with equally awesome experiences.

---

Off topic, but I'll leave you all with this sentiment. After my very first yoga class at Yoga to the People this morning, our instructor lead us out with a reading of "The Voice", by Shel Silverstein. I found it extremely poignant.

There is a voice inside of you
That whispers all day long,
“I feel that this is right for me,
I know that this is wrong.”
No teacher, preacher, parent, friend
Or wise man can decide
What’s right for you– – just listen to
The voice that speaks inside.

Remember: we're all on our own journey. We are going to stumble, learn from it, and keep moving forward. The only person you need to answer to is yourself. Listen to your voice.

Three Little Things

Again, I have proven myself to be unworthy of the challenge of writing my three best things every day. I only missed one day entirely, but I have to admit that there were a few I retrospectively scribbled down the morning (ok--- afternoon) after. I also found it very difficult to write what really made me happy since I knew I would be posting them. There was a lot of self-imposed pressure to be witty and not lame. Unfortunately, I find myself to be NOT witty and EXTREMELY lame most often in my private moments, so I apologize if what comes next bores you to tears.

10/10/12
1. Just found out Ryan Gosling lives 3 blocks from me.
2. Watching the "human tunnel" get water dumped on them outside of Pinkberry.
3. The view from Hallie's roof-- WOW. I live in New York City! The view makes the magic.

10/11/12
I forgot... what a waste of that once-in-a-lifetime date.

10/12/12
1. Can cross 'vegetarian sushi' off of my NYC list!
2. Spent a good part of my day wrapped up in Harry Potter... this story still does it for me.
3. Texting Nazlı about some of our best memories. So lucky to have her in my life.

10/13/12
1. Drinking wine and margaritas ALL NIGHT with Nazlı.
2. Quick visit with Andy and Lexi... tons of giggles and CUPCAKES.
3. The staff at our dinner place were really really sweet (The Aquamarina, 171st & Bway?)

10/14/12
1. Z saying "Go to her!" when A was crying... literally so precious. [Note: Z & A are 2 y.o. twins I nanny for]
2. The babies knew my name today-- and it was only my 2nd day of work!
3. Used my hot pink hand mixer baking chocolate chip pumpkin cookies :)

10/15/12
1. Staying up late and sharing everything with Chazie.
2. So pleased with my peers' work on Sweeney Todd. Entire production was impressive and I was proud to watch the show with its world's creators.
3. So many hugs and smiles and laughs with some people that I've missed without realizing it!

10/16/12
1. Wine milkshake and Chazie's homemade pizza. Hello heart attack.
2. Meetings today. Two with old professors, one with an old friend. All made me realize that I am growing, I am cared about, and that I'm not doing half bad.
3. Even though my bus home had a serious delay that's pretty inconvenient, I could not have a nicer, more patient or pleasant bus driver. This woman deserves the big bucks. Also, the trip refund and complimentary round trip from megabus didn't hurt.

10/17/12
1. No lab today was a nice break. Good for my sanity.
2. I think Russell Stover's dark chocolate coconut creme pumpkins are the best things I have ever tasted. Damn.
3. Nobody could hold me back from navigating the library like a boss today.


So, all in all, I have a lot of little things to be thankful for. It was a nice pick-me-up to go through them again tonight and I'm glad that I challenged myself to do this. I still want to do better, though.

Next up... 

New York has made me more image conscious than I have been in a long time. It is truly the place where the beautiful people flock to. I spend a lot of time worried about my appearance, and in retrospect I think a lot of that time is wasted. Plus, that kind of fixation is unhealthy. SO. I am now embarking upon a new challenge: No make up for a week.

How will it change me? Will I make better use of my time in the mornings? Will I be less inclined to go out? Will I still get creeped on by those dirty old men on every corner in this town?

I guess I'll find out.