The Devil Wears Prada... Really

When I first saw the movie, The Devil Wears Prada, I thought there was a bit of over exaggeration of how scared employees were of their bosses. People would shake in their boots whenever she would come around. I understand that it takes a tough person to run a major corporation or sector of a company,but I really did not believe that people were scared of their bosses. I mean, everyone is human, right?

I have never been introduced to the hierarchy or business really until now: in my parents office, they owned it, so I never really noticed anything- their employee's were free to ask questions and approach them without making a scheduled appointment. My job through college, my bosses were our friends, yes we respected them and knew our limits, but they turned into my parents away from my parents. I have carried these thoughts over to my new, real life job- why should I be afraid to ask my boss (also the head of the entire digital department questions (epically if its a question about a task for her)?

I received an e-mail from a co-worker, he explained that he was working from home and got an urgent e-mail from our boss that she needs a packet put together- he asked if I could do it as soon as possible. He also said that he is not sure which sheets she wanted nor what kind of binder she wanted the sheets in- so I was in a bit of a dilemma. My first plan of action was to find the sheets she was referring to and find nicer paper to print them out on. My second plan of action was to find out what kind of binding she preferred. I first asked her assistant if she had any idea what I was talking about- and she was no help. So instead of doing the project completely wrong, I called my co-worker and told him I was almost done, but just needed to hear back from our boss. He said, "Wait, you e-mailed her? Why did you do that? I only e-mail her if it is an emergency." This thought process shocked me. He was genuine in his response- he would have rather done the project wrong than ask. Clearly, I am not one for doing things wrong- so why go ahead and do something if you don't know its right? Everyone has different work ethics, and that is just my preference.

Well, surprise, the task was not urgent at all, he just had a bit of a freak out because it was sent to him from our boss so he thought it had to get done asap. She is out of the office until Friday and needs it then- not Monday afternoon at 4 when my coworker sent me the S.O.S. Why is he so afraid of our boss? I understand the respect lines- there has to be a clear definition that she is our boss, but she is also a person- as are all of us.

Lesson Leaned:

Even the president is a person. Yes- the president is busy, but a person without doubt.

Peace, Love and No Devil cold ever wear Prada,

B

Pay Day- For the Government

I finally got my first working girl paycheck! The thrill of opening it and seeing what I was being given for my hard work is indescribable. But, what is describable is the feeling of after initial shock of being so excited- the turn to, 'oh shit, this isn't enough.'

My plan of living here is to be able to move to Manhattan at least by February/March. I figured by then I would have enough saved up for 3 months rent and some extra money in the bank for security. Then I had to factor in my student loan amounts, ok fine, I can swing that. Then I had to factor in living expenses- utilities, food, transportation, things that just come up. After adding all these up, I came to the conclusion that I need a second job. How I will figure this puzzle out is still up in the air, but I have to do it. Who knows, maybe I will be sick of the city by then and want to move back to Atlanta, or to the beach and work at a bar (which I have always wanted to do), or who knows, but I will make bank. There is no option not to. I am not going to work this hard to succeed.

Something I have noticed about myself in the past few weeks, I am not ok just being in the middle. This quality I know comes straight from my parents, but I never thought it dwelled in me. My brother has always had the will and desire to make as much money, where as I was concerned with making enough to be ok and spend it right away. But now- in my life, being in the middle (for me) is just not where I want to be. The top of where ever I am, whatever industry or challenge is going to be my spot. Just gotta get there. But mission one: Student loans gotta go. I knew going to a college out of state came with a price. My parents sat me down and explained this to me multiple times, but not until you actually graduate does it set in. I do not regret them for one second, because Indiana was amazing- but now is the fun part, where I take everything I used those loans for to pay them off. Just another challenge.

Peace, Love and Salle Mae,

B

It's my life. If I want to sleep...

This weekend was a whirlwind. My best friend came in to visit from Chicago and boy did we work the city. We went into the city on Friday morning with everything we could possibly need all weekend and were bag ladies together. It was nice to not be a bag lady alone- homeless people are just happier traveling in packs. We went to a roof top bar after I got off work- to a friends apartment to get dressed and went out to a bar downtown. Notice, there is no dinner anywhere in our plans. Skipping dinner when we were suppose to go to a Yankees game the next day was not a good game plan- but oh well, it all happened.

Because I do not live in the city, we had plans to stay at a friends place.... Well, lets just say that the plan did not run smoothly and I am in need to move into the city (mainly for social reasons) as soon as possible. Just having to rely on other people is not always a good route to take when alcohol is involved. Judgement get blurred and thinking of responsibilities disappears. Either I need to have a spare set of keys to where ever I am staying, or handcuff myself to the resident of where I am staying to ensure not to get left behind. But this is not the point. That is a different story for a different time, which will be following very shortly.

After the crazy Friday night- it was time for the Yankees game at 4. They lost, which was a little bit of a buzz kill, but fun none the less. After the 4 hour game in the perfect fall day complete with sunshine and a breeze, we all went back into the city for dinner. I was sitting at the table, with a beer in front of me, and could not keep my eyes open. 4 hours of sleep and sitting in the sun all day does not make a good combination for going out the next night. I tried everything to give myself an energy boost- drinking soda, food, more beer and nothing helped. My mind was holding on for dear life- I wanted to go out, but my body just wasn't having it. They were on two different radio stations and the frequency of my body won, I just gave in. When we left the restaurant, everyone was discussing the groups next move, I finally opened my mouth and told what my next move was- bed. I explained how sorry I was to the visitors and gave everyone hugs and kisses (we are all going to see each other in 3 weeks for homecoming anyways, so it does not even matter) and sent them on their way.

Now, there are some people who can party all night, every night- I use to be one of them in college, running on empty was my style and my body could last for 2 weeks on sleep deprivation, but not anymore. One night a weekend because I want to be able to function the next day. I enjoy going to street fairs or art festivals on the weekend without feeling like I got hit with a truck by a hangover. Some people do not understand that. My friends from college who were visiting totally understood, they could see it in my face and respected me for it. But there are some people in this city who do not understand that I don't care to go out every night.

It is my life- and I can decide when I go out and what I deem as cool. Heres what happened (by the way, sorry for the extremely long post, it was a long weekend!): I have made this new friend, he is very nice and I enjoy talking with him, but what I do not enjoy nor appreciate is when I am peer pressured. I moved on from 7th grade. My dad was our peer pressure advisor in elementary school and did a very good job at teaching us to stand up for what we want to do.

I was laying in bed, basically passed out when my phone started vibrating. Typically, I set my phone on complete silence when I am sleeping so it does not wake me up, but since the visitors were out and about, I left it on just in case they needed me. But the vibration was not set off by one of my visiting friends, it was my new friend- he was at a bar down the street from where I was staying and wanted me to come out. I explained through text that I was exhausted and sorry, but there was no way I was going out. He proceeded to say "don't be a bum" and "just throw on some jeans." Now, 1 or 2 encouraging texts is fine- but when they keep coming, enough is enough for me. I do not care that everyone else is doing it and everyone else is having a great time- I needed my sleep and get very cranky when people stand in my way of getting it. No one can tell me what I think is cool or a good time other than myself- it is my life and I am a big girl, I can make my own decisions. Although all his texts were out of encouragement and he was just trying to get me to come out (it is nice being wanted, everyone knows that)- there comes a point where I just do not care and he tapped right on it.

Moral of my story:

Once you get out of college (or even still in college)- it is ok not to party hard every night. If theres something the next day that seems cooler- its ok not to stay out till the wee hours of the morning. Everyone likes different things and defines a good time in different ways- thats what makes the world go round.

Peace, Love and 8 hours of sleep,

B

Bendels, Channel, Oh My!

I worked my first sales event today with Hearst. We rented out the 3rd floor of Bendel's on 5th avenue and had a hair station, make up station and of course food. My assignment was to wait on the first floor and direct attendees to the elevator. I was stationed right next to the Channel counter where every product of Channel makeup was displayed. While waiting, I took a gander and explored their make-up line. Even though the prices are out of this world, there is no harm in looking and dreaming. While I was browsing, the woman behind the counter asked what I was doing and I explained the event up stairs.

As with every random person I speak to, my story of how I just moved here and got a job came up. Immediately after hearing my story she said, "Girl, you are going to make it in this life time, I can tell. But you will not make it in this city if you don't get some make up on your face!" Now, she didn't realize that I had been in the office since 9am and do not carry make up with me(which I probably should now)-and to be perfectly honest, I have never worn a lot of make-up, I am just too lazy. But I let her do what she wanted- a little eyeshadow, a dab of blush and a smattering of lip gloss. She looked over my face with a satisfied look and handed me the mirror. She was right. With just a little touch up of color, I looked ready to go- like my day hadn't even started yet.

This woman gave me some very valuable advice- she said that in New York, its not enough just to turn heads, you have to make them stare. What a concept- I never thought about it that way. I figured to get people's attention, I just had to get them to notice, but she is taking my thoughts one extra step- I need to get people to be memorized.

So what did I learn from my little trip to Bendel's:

It is not enough to make people look and take one glance, In my life, I am going to have to make people stare, and really take that second look.

Peace, Love and High-End Lip Gloss,

B

Not enough hours

So, I am apologizing right now for the lack of easy-read posts about my insane life. Because there just aren't enough hours in the day to fit in an hour or so to write about the every day occurrence that happen: like my current attempt to be on Good Morning America as their new advice guru. I will just have to save up my stories up in a bank (aka the pink notebook I carry around and jot notes down) and cash them in on the weekends to share.

But a new advance- I joined the New York Sports Club, and trying to get myself back on track. I know my body is thanking me! This weekend should be amazing as well- many adventures with my best friend coming to visit.

Lesson Learned: I am really finding out what is important to me when 24 hours just doesn't seem to be enough. Just like Jersey Shore-- there are 3 things that are important: Gym-Work-Friends (Jersey shore is Gym-Tan-Laundry, but tanning isn't typically my thing and laundry, eh, it can wait.).

Peace, Love, and extra hours,

B

Tornado's...Miss me.

When I left the south, I figured I was leaving behind the threat of tornadoes as well. I have been through a good amount of terrifying tornado threats, where when the siren would ring, we would run for the basement and a room with no windows. Here- in Forest Hills, New York, there are no such things as tornado sirens. But, for me, I didn't even see the storm. I did not see the winds, feel the rain or hear the lightning of the terrifying storm- why? because I was still on the E train coming home from work. Here's the story:

So, on Thursday afternoon around 5:00, I checked the weather.com- I knew it was suppose to storm at some point in the afternoon, but the timing was a little iffy. The radar said rain around 6:00ish- so I figured If I left the office at 5:15, my aunt could pick me up from the subway if it was raning. I said bye to my office mate and headed for the tunnel. The sky was eerie in Manhattan, and the weather was muggy, but I thought nothing of it. I did't care if it stormed in Manhattan, I am going to Queens, so off to the E train I went. There was nothing out of the ordinary. My i-pod was pumping, I finished 4 easy puzzles and the man next to me reeked of BO and was standing a little to close for comfort. Again, like I said, nothing out of the ordinary.

Once the train landed at 71st Street- I walked towards the South side exit- there was a bit of commotion and a man directing train riders to go to a different exit because there was glass on the ground. This did not phase me, maybe a homeless man dropped his shopping cart of bottles or something like that, so I headed for the other exit.

When I emerged form the tunnel to the outside street- at first I did not notice anything because my eyes were directed at the ground (I was in flip flops and did not want to step in anything), and then I noticed glass- and my vision extended- more glass, then I saw a building sign on the ground, and I finally looked up and Fores Hills looked somewhat like war zone. Building signs were everywhere- glass shards scattered all over the streets- the bank's door was bent- tree branches lying in the middle of the road. I was puzzled. A girl about my age was standing next to me and I asked her what happened and she said she had no idea. We over heard a man walk by us saying there was a tornado. A TORNADO??? I did not even know those existed in the north east.

This tornado ripped apart my aunts neighborhood- I mean, trees down in streets to the point were even trying to walk in between them was unsafe. The second everything processed in my brain, I called my aunt to make sure she was safe- which she was. Then she insisted on coming to pick me up. I explained to her how bad the damage was and she wouldn't be able to get to me by car- but she is a little stubborn and told me where to stand and she said she would be there. She also informed me that she could not find her cell phone- which in times like these, a cell phone is necessary. So she was off to save the day. I waited for 45 minutes for her... and she never showed. I called her cell phone (even though it was pointless) and her house phone and no answers. I decided it was time to head back to her house- dark was setting in, the temperature started to drop and honestly, I was getting tired and a little fed up with waiting.

The walk that typically takes 8 minutes, ended up taking 45- because of all the debris, broken glass, glass hanging from apartment buildings, a lot of the streets were closed and foot traffic was basically a maze. Finally, once I made it back, my aunt was waiting for me at the corner. Her first words to me, "It was insane to drive, I couldn't get anywhere." All I could think was DUH, I told you that! But some people don't know unless they experience.

But all in all- My main point- Tornadoes happen as rare as blizzards happen in Atlanta, and of course, when I move up here, the supernatural happens, I guess they just like to follow me..

So lesson learned: Be prepared, bring an umbrella.

Peace, Love and We are safe,

B

E train thinking

3 days into my job and things are starting to get rolling. I know it'll take awhile to get into the swing of things and for me to really know what my role in this huge company is going to be- so for now, I am doing everything possible to learn everything possible- even things that I will probably never need to know, but I feel like understanding what everybody does to contribute to get the ball rolling is important. Important for understanding and important so I can do my job better. All in good time.

But this is not the point for me right now. My point is that I get a lot of deep thinking done on my commute. There is no point in my day where I feel as alone as I do when I am crammed into a packed E train car with the rest of Manhattan. I become surrounded by people- yet so alone. While I was in my state of solidarity today, I began to wonder- whats my purpose? Whats the purpose of the woman reading the New York Times next to me? What will the purpose be of the twins sleeping in their stroller with their mom watching them like a hawk?

In school, they prepared me for everything that I ever though would be important, until now. What teachers and education do not prepare us for is the jolt of real life. When it hits- there is no 'extra credit' study session to attend , no 'office hours' or 'make up tests.' Real life is either you sink, you swim, or you just float. 17 years of my life were spent in school. 17 years I studied for tests that I only scored mediocre no matter how hard I studied. All those math and spelling tests, were they necessary, of course. But was it worth all the time I cried about studying and all the times my dad every yelled at me because I couldn't remember how to spell a word after 50 times of repeating it? I'm sure they all contribute to who I am today and to where I am going- but honestly, there is not class to prepare you for life, no syllabus to tell you when the next test to be- or when you get a break to just go home and do nothing.

It is a strange sensation to be having these deep and profound (or at least what I think are deep and profound) thoughts surrounded by people who I think can hear everything I am saying in my head. I know that they have no idea what I'm thinking, for all they know, I am thinking about what color underwear I am wearing, but I like to think they know. I like to see the other people in the subway as my audience- and the smartest people on earth, who hold all the answers to my question- but just will not, because they know better than me. They know that I will have to figure out the answers myself.... This is why I feel alone, because I imagine they can speak back to me and hear me, but refuse to talk, making me feel alone.

What deep thoughts the E train provided me with today- who knows what it'll give me tomorrow. I do know one thing: there is a purpose for everything, and I have a purpose in life- I have always though that I am suppose to do something bigger than myself in life, its just finding what that something is. But I have a feeling, one of the silent people on the subway know my answer- just got to get them to tell me.

Peace, Love and screaming silence,

B

Day One, Check!

Day one has come and gone. My outfit was picked out before I went to bed on Sunday (Even though I slept for about 4 hours total...) I woke up at the crack of dawn. I rode the subway during major traffic hour where personal space is unheard of and arrived at orientation 45 minutes before I needed to be there. I filled out forms and filed paper work that might as well be written in hieroglyphics (they really should make tax forms user friendly, or at least dumb them down a little bit so the normal teen-adult like me can understand what they are talking about). I only brought a copy of my passport when I really needed the actual physical passport, so its being overnighted by my mom so I can be put into the system (a blip that of course that would happen to me...). I drank about 4 cups of very strong coffee because I did not get a lot of sleep last night. I wore my best trendy outfit and shoes that killed my calves and thighs by noon. I read more irrelevant material than I ever did in college (all syllabus weeks combined). I was given a desk with a phone, computer and notebook. But I was also not given a phone number, username, password or pen, making all the materials given useless. I was treated to lunch by a few of my supervisors. I sat through a meeting where I had no idea what was going on. I re-read the irrelevant information about 3 times until I knew the information backwards and forwards (I'll let you know if that information has anything to do with my actual job later). I took the subway home in rush hour and walked home in the poring rain with the cool purple umbrella they gave me. I can barley keep my eyes open. It's 8:30 and all I want to do is go to bed.

And guess what: I am loving every second of it.

This is what I wanted and couldn't ask for more. This job is going to be a perfect start for me. The people in the department are warming and welcoming. They actually like hanging out with each other and seem as if they enjoy working with each other as well.

From what I can see, this department is a place to grow, ask questions, learn, and excel. Who knows where I will end up or even what I will be doing for that matter. But what I do know is that I am suppose to be in this department- every tear and interview that I went through were all suppose to happen and I ended up right where I should have been the entire time.

Lesson Learned:

Bring original copies. of everything.

Peace, Love and purple company umbrellas,

B

Tomorrow, Tomorrow, I love you, Tomorrow

Soooooo, TOMORROW! I finally start work tomorrow. All the hard work and few weeks of nothing-ness, finally, I get to do what I came in this city to do, work. Tomorrow is the starting of a new chapter. Every school yea, I use to say, 'today is the first day of the rest of my life,' and in reality, tomorrow might possibly be a huge marking stone in my life.

I have noticed that being a semi-adult, everything I do has a purpose, or builds into the bigger picture. My bigger picture is being painted as I speak and its just all happening...

Of course my outfit is laid out and my purse is already put together with everything I could possibly need. I picked out a few pictures to hang up near my desk (even though I don't have a desk yet) and I am ready. Bring it on real world.

Peace, Love and my life if is a water color set,

B

High School. I mean Services..

For those of you who are not Jewish, or are Jewish and unaware of the date, the past 2 days have been Rosh Hashana, the New Year for the Jewish people. Typically, people go home and take the 1 or 2 days off work to attend services at the Synagogue they please. Spending time with family and friends and eating more food than necessary is how most people spend these holidays. For the past few years, it has been a toss up of where I would spend the holidays, either I would fly home for the few days and go to services in the Synagogue and Rabbi that I grew up with; or I would stay up in Indiana and attend services put on by Hillel held in a church with all my sorority sisters.

When I attend services back in Georgia, the routine is always the same, my family sits in the same left hand corner with the plastic chairs. This spot is known as 'the gang's' area. We have been sitting in this area for as long as I can remember. The services are always freezing and whispering is necessary, because Rabbi Lewis (no matter how many people are in the service) expect silence. God forbid if a cell phone rings- its like time stops and Rabbi gives the death stare. This is just the way he runs his service. I love those services, I sit with my mom and continue working on the friendship bracelet that has been taped in my high holiday prayer book since I was 8- every year the the same. Every year the Rabbi's sermons either stir up controversy or bring tears to everyones eyes- without fail.

When I attended services in Indiana, they were always short but always fun- sat with my friends, we took up a few rows of just our sorority- we all compared and contrasted how we do services in our different cities. Everybody sat in their cliques, SDT, AEPhi, ZBT, Sammy, AEpi, the scattered random Jews in other houses, then the GDI (Indipedents). We intermixed some, because for the most part, everyone knows eachother, but we all stuck to our own- judging everybody outfits, and traded gossip from the nights before hand. As girls, we always checked out the boys and were curious as to who the cute on the end was (because there would always be at least one boy we had never seen before who would ALWAYS be cute). But as for the actual holiday service, they were nice, Rabbi Sue would deliver a sermon that was semi meaningfl to our lives and all in all, tried to make the services seem as homey as possible.

Now- this year obviously is a little different. Since I am staying with my Great Aunt, naturally I attended her Synagogue for services. Going into the holiday, I was very optimostic because coming from Georgia and my Synagogue, I figured New York services and traditions would blow mine out of the water (I am in the hub of American Jews after all). I am not saying the services were not nice nor am I bashing them in any way- but let me just say- these services and clientel of people I am not use to. The average age of people in her Synagoge are either 80 or 30 (complete with little kids)- but people were talking (not whispering) the entire time- the lack of respect for the service, to me, was a little disturbing. I did figure out though, the reason people were talking in normal voices instead of whispering is because they are all older and their hearing isn't as good- so I am assuming that they cannot hear themselves and how loud they are- as well as the person listening cannot hear as well- a combination not good for religious holiday services. A good combination to let me hear every word they are saying. It's just not what I am use to.

Rosh Hashana is my favorite holiday- it gets me excited for the new year and I like to leave services, raring and ready for the new year. Not this year. I am excited none the less because the things in store for me just in this coming week are out of this world (I start work on Monday!) , but the excitement did not come from services. What I did get from the services is that being a good person is not necessarily important to these people in Forest Hills (and I am not saying all people, I am just saying from what I observed in Synagogue)- what is important is how much you have and how much you are willing to give it and how much you can flaunt it. Basically- high school all over again, just with more money.

Something that I am not use to anymore is being judged on status. I haven't been judged on status since High School, and when I graduated High School, I figured that it would never happen again- Surprise- I am clearly mistaken. My Aunt's synagogue is entirety based on how much money you have, how much money you give to the Synagogue and how much the Rabbi likes you. The amount of gossip I have been fed could top how full I was at last years thanksgiving. Not only was I uncomfortable with not being in serives that I was accustomed to, I felt that no one in this service really like eachother, everybody has the 'topper' issue- where everybody has to do better than the person sitting next to them. Its just not my style nor the kinds of people I would like to surround myself with.

Everybody has their likes and dislikes, and not everyone has to get along, but in a religious service, I feel that the focus should be on creating a real community and connection to whatever religion you choose. There was no genuine community that I saw, but then again, I could be wrong- We will find out next Saturday for Yom Kippur.

Lesson learned form my first high holiday as a real person:

Not every service will be like home.

Peace, Love, and Happy New Year,

B

Bathrooms for Dogs and Subways

I have always wanted to have a dog of my very own- A little puppy to say is just mine (mom and dad, if you ever tell putter this, I will be so mad, because he will always be my puppy that lives at your house). But having a dog living in New York city just does not look ideal. Seeing a dog having to use the side walk instead of grass for a bathroom not only looks unpleasant for me to watch but looks like the dog is embarrassed. Do the dogs here not know what grass it? Or because of the minimal grass, just pretend that concrete is a substitute for grass? To me, it just doesn't seem fair. There are dog parks here, yes, but there are no real back yards where a dog can run, play and bask in the sun all day. The majority of these puppies sit inside a small apartment all day and wait for their 15 minute walk where they can do their business ON THE SIDEWALK- where people are watching.

What about in the winter? Where do these poor puppies go to the bathroom? This blows my mind- back in the south, snow is never an issue nor is the lack of grass- so this little puzzle will not make sense to me until the winter hits. So I guess until I am not in the Big City, I will not have a dog of my own. It just doesn't seem fair.

But on the topic of bathrooms.... I had a little issue last night. I did not realize how long the subway ride from 14th street to Queens was about 45 minutes, on top of a .8 mile walk home.... All of this is very relevant.

Let me explain: I had gone out to see some college friends and we went to a Mexican bar to get a few drinks and some guacamole. Two beers down and a belly full of chips and dip, I figured it was getting late and the sun was going down- so it was time to head home. I said goodbye to my friends and found the nearest E-train, not taking into account that I had drank beer and a few glasses of water. The second I swiped my subway card and went through the turn style, I had the urge to pee. Here was an issue- there is no way I would use the subway bathrooms, so I was just going to have to hold it. My E train comes- I get on, take my seat and begin the long haul back to Queens. My stop finally comes (and at this point the urge to pee had subsided because I hadn't moved since I got on the train), I stand up and my bladder feels like its about to explode. My aunts house is .8 miles away from the train station- so I figure I will survive.

About half way through the walk, all I can think about is waterfalls and dripping water, so I called my mom for some distraction. "Mom, I need someone to distract me, I really have to pee and I am walking back to the house and I am dying!" I said. So she goes, "Wait, wait, say that again! I'm putting you on speaker phone!" NO MOM, THAT IS NOT WHAT I WANT! I started laughing so hard, tears started running down my face. This was not the distraction I was looking for- the crying made my bladder hurt and I couldn't stop laughing. I was a sight to see.

But I did finally make it back- free and clear. But there is a VERY important lesson here from my little mishap and episode:

Always empty your bladder before you get on the subway- there aren't any on the trains- and those poor dogs who don't know the difference...Watch out for the squatting dogs on the sidewalk.

Peace, Love and Porttapottys,

B

Lost in Translation

A few days ago, I finally told Boris that there will never been a future for us. I tried to tell him as nicely as possible. Told him that just right now, I cannot get myself into a relationship. Timing is just not there, I tried to explain to him. But lets be truthful for a minute, if a guy of my dreams, preferably spoke fluent English, red-blooded American frat boy stumbled into my vision- then yes, I would make the timing work. But all these things, Boris is not. He just does not get the social cues I have been dropping for him.

Finally, last night, I had enough. Beating around the bush and trying to be nice clearly was not working and he did not get the hint that we can be friends- but I am NOT your girlfriend. He called me to hang out. I told him I was not feeling well and was going to stay in. He said, "well, maybe I will drive by your house and we can sit in my car and talk. I haven't see you in three days, I miss you baby." THIS IS ENOUGH.

After he said this to me, I lost it. I went on raging bitch mode and let him have it. I explained to him that, first of all, I get sick of myself after a few days so why in the world would he want to spend that much time with me, second of all, even if you do feel this way, I don't care. I am not your girlfriend, go share your feelings with someone else, your mom, your dog, your therapist, I don't care who, just not me. I tried to tell him that just because we made out does NOT constitute a relationship. He asked me if all southern girls were like this. I replied with, you cannot base an entire population of girls below the Mason Dixon line on me, but this is the way I am.

Basically, if I were more mean spirited and could live with myself- I would tell him this,"The reason we will never be together, nor have ever been in a relationship is because I do not like you. Just because you took me on a few dates does not entitle you to make the decision that we are in a relationship. You are not my type and there are a million guys in New York, and you are just not my type. Go away." .... But, I could never bring myself to be that mean.

So this is how I am dealing with the situation. Avoid hanging out with him until he just gets tired of trying. So far, this strategy might be working. Here is the text message from this afternoon (note, all spellings are how they were sent to me...):

Boris: Hey wats goin? Isaak me nd maybe a few of my friends wanna hang out. Are u nd jo up to go?

Me: Sorry, jo is not in town and I'm in the city with some friends

Boris: Oooo ic u comin bak soon?

Me: Not sure

Boris: Ic well let me know wen u r bak nd if im around we can go play some pool kool?

Me: Ok

So needless to say, the kid clearly doesn't understand English and cannot type either. I am sure there will be more to this saga.

Until then, so far the lesson learned:

If they don't speak English or mention to me to 'behave myself' after a first date, then the guy CLEARLY is not for me.

Peace, Love and Byeeeee Boris,

B

Bag Lady does Beer Gardens

Since I have been living out in Queens and most of my friends live in Manhattan, going out with them has been a puzzle. I hate imposing and asking to sleep at their apartments all the time just because I am sure it gets annoying. But, I just have to suck it up because there is no way I can stay in Queens every weekend. What I did this weekend was pretty successful- did a fly by the seat of my pants thing.

Before I left to meet with Danny at Chabad, I made sure my purse was full of all the essentials I needed for a 2 night stay in the city: 2 pairs of underwear, a toothbrush, 1 change of clothes to wear during the day time, flip flops (I was wearing heels), and a headband. I shoved all my essentials into a black Fossil purse and was on my way. You would never know looking at me that I was a bag lady, living out of my purse, but I am sure in this city there are weirder things.

After Chabad, Danny asked if I wanted to go out with him and some friends and offered to let me crash on his couch. Check! night one was covered for. I left my bag at his house and enjoyed the night out.

I had made plans with my friend Sari to go to a place called Beer Gardens in Astoria, Queens on Saturday afternoon. After I peeled myself off Danny's couch, changed my clothes and brushed my teeth (note, no shower)- packed up my purse and made the trek from Midtown to Sari's place in Murray Hill. Upon arriving to her apartment, we greeted each other, and the first thing I said, "Dress me." She had already anticipated this little issue and had a dress already in mind. I changed clothes again, straighted my hair, threw in some baby powder (for those of you who don't know, it lets you not wash your hair for a little longer...) and it was off to the Beer Gardens.

I didn't leave anything at Sari's because I figured if I was already in Queens, maybe I will hop on the train, go back to my aunts, shower real fast, recoup and head back into the city for night #2. Well... obviously that did not happen. 8 Pitchers of German beer later, We were at Sari's apartment laying on her bed. I tried so hard to be a trooper, but my body just cannot handle the alcohol intake like it could 5 months ago in school. I felt like I had been hit by a bus. I slept on a couch the night before (only for a few hours I might add), my body didn't have time to recover from that drinking and then I drank more during the day.... I had it.

I took a quick shower at Sari's place so I didn't look like a total train wreck, she lent me another dress, I packed up my bag and headed home. The bad lady really needs to get this figured out... or at least, don't day drink. That was the killer.

Lesson Learned from this whole crazy36 hour fiesta:

The only thing necessary in a bag lady is a tooth brush....Everything else was covered for, but a tooth brush is the essential.

Peace, Love and Traveling Bag Lady,

B

Chabad and Wine- weird sense of home.

The combination of good food, friends and wine is one that you can never go wrong with. Since I moved here, I really haven't been able to find that sense of 'home.' The friends I have made here are great and different, but nothing about them remind me of home. For me, the sense of home requires people who know me- where I come from, know my parents and history about me, where I went to high school and just get me. These friends that give me a sense of home do not need explanations of why I love to color or why sometimes I just keep talking. These friends know more about me than I do- and when around these people, there is no need to tell why- they just let me be me.

This Friday, I finally got the taste of southern love back in my life. The feeling came from the most unexpected get together. I called me friend Danny (my junior year prom date... small world) to see what he was up to. He moved to the city about a month or so before me, had a job and quit it all within 3 weeks and is now back on the hunt. We had not seen each other since a random run-in while in Israel a few months ago- so what better time to get back together. We made plans to hang out Friday night. He asked me if I wanted t0 come with him to Chabad dinner. Typically, I would have said no, but seeing as I am trying this new adventure of, if there is no good reason not to do something- why not, I accepted the invitation.

We met up with his cousin Michael who is studying in New York and my friend Erica from back home. We all walked into the Rabbis house- greeted by other young adults around our age. The candles were lit and the first glass of wine was drank. As I sat at the end of the table, I looked around at the 3 friends I came with and the others sitting around the table. Everybody came to this dinner for about the same reason- a sense of belonging and trying to find a connection with other people. We all went around the table, introduced ourselves- name, where we were from and one thing, good or bad, about this past year that was a defining moment. A couple across the table from me had just gotten engaged, a girl from Toronto just lost her job that day and made the decision to return to Toronto. When it was finally my turn- there was only one thing I could think of to say, "my life right now is a defining moment." Because everything I am doing, every person I meet, every museum I go to, every new expierance I jump into defines who I am becoming.

What I have noticed about myself in the past week or so is that I am finally becoming more comfortable in doing my own thing- exploring by myself. I can go to a park, sit on a bench alone and read for an hour or so and be content. Before I moved here, having someone to do something with all the time was 100% necessary, but now, I am ok whit just being with me. This aspect of myself is still evolving- but its all in the name of progress. But back to the Chabad story...

The food was delicious and the wine seemed to be never ending. We said all the blessings, which no matter how long it has been- the Shabbat prayers are like riding a bike, you never forget. The Rabbi and his wife were extremely welcoming and grateful that they could host everyone at their house. Now, the intensity of the Rabbi and some of his ideals are not typically my style, but learning why other people believe in what they do is always intriguing to me. All in all, the experience was amazing. I was able to be apart of a community for a dinner and I was given a sense of home, being surrounded by friends from Georgia.

I guess what adults tell me is true- sometimes you just need the people who knew you when you were young. Taking these adventures and leaps of faith right now not only are giving me a sense of self, but making me realize where I want to go in the future and where I want to be. And if I didn't already know this before, its now been solidified in my mind, I want to be near my parents. There is no greater feeling of home than when I am around them. So, mom and dad, I'm going to play up in the big city for awhile, but in a few years, don't you worry, where ever you are is where I want to be.

Lesson Learned:

Even if their opinions differ, getting into conversations with religious leaders is fun a challenging.

Peace, love and home friends,

B

Power of Sink The Bizz

Well, the alumni event went a lot better than I expected. Met some new friends and drank plenty of free Cooers Lite (of course this is the only beer the IU alumni would have for us.. I was shocked it wasn't Natural Lite, now that is the beer of tailgates). All of us alumni, who honestly were no older than 25, sat around, watched our Indiana Hoosiers play Townson and reminisced about the good old old days (which were no more than 5 months ago). What I found to be most interesting was, on average, I knew most of the other alumni or we played a little 5 degrees of separation and we all knew the same people. This is no coincidence. It is primarily because we are all Jewish. Almost every person at this event was Jewish. It might as well be hosted by Hillel. But over all, it was a great time.

But it wasn't the alumni who I made friends with. I have repeated over and over again that there are certain people who are crucial to be friends with. I have another one to add onto that list: Bar owners. Let me tell you why: free beer. A few friends and I were playing sink the biz (which by the way was the greatest part of the event) and the bar manager came up to us and stated asking us about the game, how it was played and just the meaning of it. She became very intrigued and immediately said, "I want to play, I'll be right back." When she returned, she was carrying a pitcher of beer. Seeing as the open tab had closed 20 minutes before hand, we were in need of a refill but none of us wanted to give up the cash. But we had no problem anymore- a free pitcher had fallen out of the sky.

Lesson Learned (yet again):

Be friends with the important people- or at least the people who can give you free beer.. on a tight budget, its worth it. And even if theres no free beer involved, a friend is always nice.

Peace, Love and missing tailgating season,

B

Is Today April Fools?

There are a few things about today that make me feel like I am in a big dream and any moment I will wake up.

First, it all started this morning when I did my mock morning routine for work. Woke up at 6:30, showered, made coffee, got dressed and was out the door at 7:30, promptly on the train at 7:42. There was nothing abnormal about the E train this morning- minus the Jewish Orthodox girl (fully dressed in long jean skirt and long sleeve black shirt) doing her morning prayers at the back of the train with a Muslim man (fully dressed in his turban and cloths) sitting next to her, watching her. I looked around to see if anybody else on the train noticed what was going on. Here were two people- from totally different universes, co-existing on the small subway train car in the middle of New York. With everything going on in the news (and I am not going to lie, my own stereotyping) I though this scene was straight out of Saturday Night Live. Only in New York does this happen. These two, coexisting in a tight space- it totally blew my mind.

Second, the fact that I am not in college anymore hit me in the face like a baseball bat. I received a text form a friend asking me to go to an alumni event with her tonight for the first football game. I couldn't stop looking at my phone- because I could not comprehend what this meant. Since when was I old enough to be an alumni, and since when does anybody even watch Indiana football. We are not a football school (our football sucks), we are a tailgating school (I am very proud to say this). Thus my confusion- with the two aspects- realization of my own age and what we will be doing at the event. Again, is this a joke? Where are the hidden cameras? or am I just dreaming. I didn't really graduate, the best year of college was just a trial run through, there will be a second one soon... only in my dreams. Until that second round of senior year comes along, I will just have to pretend that I am old enough to be an alumni....

I guess I'm not dreaming, but maybe on a reality show... The Brandi Show. I would watch it...

Peace, Love and Tailgate,

B

Magic on the E Train

Real Magic, not like seeing sparks fly between two people or someone magically helping someone else out- I mean, pull a rabbit out of a hat, tissues out of a tie and card tricks magic. I had heard these people existed, but I survived 3 weeks without seeing one until yesterday.

I was riding the train into the city to meet a friend for lunch and then to explore the Museum of Natural History (which was VERY cool) and I was minding my own business, starting at everything possible without actually looking at another human being (thats what people do here- no smiling on the trains all lowed, only blank stares) and from the front of my subway car, I hear a voice say, "If you want something to look at, stop starting at the walls or the floor, you cannot stare at each other, so stare at me!' First thought in my mind when I heard this- hell no. What if its a trick and if I looked at him he would come, sit at my feet and beg me for money until I started to cry. But it wasn't, the older man with sandles and a large mustache was solely on the train to do magic. He wanted us to clap for him and laugh for him to make his magic work. He pulled bright green tissues from a business men's tie, made cards fly half way across the train and back to his hands, he did a trick with a rope- this man was a real magician (or at least in my eyes).

What can I say about the E train... just another day in the life.

Peace, Love and Magic,

B