Chicken Soup...

Over the past few days I have gotten a cold that just will not go away. All I really want to eat is some homemade chicken soup. Sounds like a simple enough request...

...minus the fact that I have never actually made it on my own. Growing up, my mom made it. In college, Campbell's made it (from the can of course), and post college since moving to NYC, T has made it. But I am now at a cross roads. T is on a vacation with his family....My mom is in Atlanta... Campbell's just sounds gross.... and I am sick. That means, no one to make it for me... but me.

Crap. 

I am not the best of cooks. I try very hard. I try to follow the directions as well as possible. But I am also extremely impatient,  which does not make for a good cook. I want everything to move faster... meaning I under cook, or over cook everything. Chicken I will initially undercook, notice that its undercooked, and then cook the life out of it, because I don't want to get anyone sick. Which, in turn, I make the chicken look, taste and feel like rubber.

But, right now, the only thing I can think about, is a big bowl of steaming hot chicken soup, to make me feel better. The Jewish Penicillin. And undercooked Jewish penicillin will not do the trick.

I also hate touching raw chicken. Someone about it gives me the willies. When its necessary, I will touch raw chicken (or any raw meat in fact). But if it can be avoided, I run to the hills. I called my mom this afternoon asking how she makes her chicken soup, and her recipe calls for "pulling out the insides of the raw chicken." Gag me now. If having this cold isn't bad enough, touching raw chicken will put me over the edge.

 So tonight, when I go home... I am going to attempt to make my first batch of soup. Wish me luck.

Peace, Love, and gotta learn sometime,
B

Locks of Love

Since my dad was diagnosed with cancer 8 months ago, I have been growing out my hair for locks of love. At the time, growing my hair out seemed like something I could do, to feel like I was in my dad's cancer with him...

But now, my hair is SO LONG. and although I know it is a great thing I am doing, I am ready for my hair to be long enough. Maybe it is also a emotional thing, and monumental feeling. But will it matter, if I cut my hair, and my dad is still going through treatments? This is an internal struggle I keep going through.

Oh the inter workings of my brain.

Business Lunches

You know what makes any business lunch better? Bloody Mary's. Any sort of tension, reservations  or even shyness seem to be put aside with bloody mary's. Not 5 bloody mary's, but just 1. Thats all it takes to have a fluid conversation when a sale is the end goal. That and even have a few good laughs.

Not that I really have any desire to go into straight sales, but at this point, I am picking up a good amount of tips along the way.

Tip of business- why wear a suit and be up tight, when you can do business comfortably  with a yummy bloody mary?

Citi Biking and my backside

Growing up, I would have night mares of my jeans ripping in school, which would reveal my brightly colored underwear. As time passed, this nightmare slowly disappeared  I became more confident in myself, and my ability to laugh things off.

Well, let me tell you, it is STILL embarrassing  Last night, after a work happy hour, I decided to ride one of the awesome Citi Bikes home. If you dont know what they are, you should. Citi Bikes are the public bike system that NYC has implemented  There are stations all over the place, and is only $100 for a year pass. Having this membership has saved me over $50 a month for subway passes. Anyways, I was riding home, a 3 mile ride from the West Village. I was in a skirt, but a long one so I was not worried about seeing straight up my skirt. I had a helmet on, safety first, of course. I was doing everything right.

About halfway home, a cab driver started yelling at me. Thinking it was a typical NYC heckle, I ignored him. This city has taught me to not pay attention to people I dont know, good, bad or different. So I continued on my treck home. I park the bike at the station, and go to my apartment, a good 3-4 block walk. When I go inside, Trevor gives me a hug, and asks me, 'Why is your skirt unzipped?' I looked in the mirror, and MY WHOLE BUTT WAS SHOWING. Exactly what the cab driver was yelling at me about!!

Thank goodness I didn't see anyone I knew the entire way home, other than all of Times Square, and the rest of New York City. So congrats NYC, you have officially see my butt.

Peace, Love and underwear,
B

Did we skip September?

Just yesterday, I was complaining about how hot is has been recently. Dreading another day of heat. My complaining seems to have been heard loud and clear. So much so, that its not even breaking 75 today! This is straight fall weather.

But you will not hear any complaining anymore. This is amazing. Global warming, today, I commend you. 

Sometimes I cannot decide if I am low maintenance  or just lazy. It seems that every girl I come in contact with in NYC is extremely concerned with their hair, their nails, their makeup, their eyebrows, and the ultimate: fashion. Some of these things- I have never really been into. It takes me about 30 minutes flat to get ready for work in the morning. My makeup ritual consists of a little eyeliner and maskera. I don't feel self conscious, or ugly, its just me. My style can be considered a little unique, but again, its just me. So why is it such a surprise that I don't really wear makeup, I don't take a ton of time to do my hair... I will even go out of my apartment, without makeup! GASP!

Is this where the self conscious issues start happening, when other girls cannot understand why I do not really care too much about looks? Because then I start to wonder if I am doing something wrong.... but then I snap back to reality, and remember... nope. I would rather by outside, soaking in the sun, than inside spending an hour doing my hair and makeup.

The conclusion: I am just not a girly girl.

Peace, love, and wearing a sweater.. in July,
b

Summer Sweats

This glorious city... has turned into a smelly and sweaty heat box. Not sure why its surprising anymore. Every summer has been the same. But this summer seems hotter. Almost unbearable. I have tried everything to stay cool. Wear less clothing, drink lots of water, stay in the shade, anything to keep myself cool- but no matter what I do, I end up sweaty. 

The worst has been walking into work... with sweat stains. There is no way to avoid it. Thankfully, today it has been a little cooler. But I do feel bad for the guy that sits next to me. I don't think I smell... but it looks like I should. 

Although I love NYC (I can say that honestly), I have come to an understanding with myself, that for now, New York is where I should be. Everything is at my fingertips. But, I can't help to think... whats next for me? Where will me and T end up after this. There will come a point where it gets old. The point when I will give in and want a puppy- which I want now.. but have you ever seen a puppy pee on the sidewalk? It's just mean. 

Eventually we will have to settle down, find a city thats right for us. I want the beach, the warm, the sunshine. As long as there are planes, trains, and automobiles  I don't mind living away from my parents. And interesting concept coming from a girl who use to cry whenever the though of sleeping out would come up. But who knows. 

I just need to keep focusing on today. Getting through my days, and taking things one step at a time. A little hard, but one at a time. 

Peace, Love and Staying Sweaty 

b 

Yea, I'm still here...almost 25

Where have I gone? No, I havent forgotten you, my dearest old friend. Life has just gotten in the way.

I spend 9 hours a day in front of a computer, typing away, researching, and reading, and most of my writing has now switched to paper. Frankly, because I just cannot stare at the screen anymore. But what am I writing for, to complain?

nope.

And thats a new goal for me- to stop complaining  it usually is never aloud, but even the companying in my mind is starting to take a toll. I need to remember that what is important in life is not what happens to you, but how you react to the things that happen.

Our relationship is an unbalanced one. Its all take, take, take. I only come to you when my outlook is foggy, and I am looking for direction. But that is not very fair, not at all. So I'll try, I cannot promise, but I will try. I will try to stay in touch more, to give the fun stories that are happening in my life.

Almost a year ago, to the day, I set out with an idea, the 365 days to 25. To document the year, see what happened. But this idea soon deflated. Got lost in the black hole, called life. Would it have been cool, hell yes. But, oh well. Can't change my laziness

 My year of 24, while still not over, has been a crazy one. Finally settling in NYC, 3 jobs, 1 apartment, multiple trips, and a few family road bumps, but overall, 24 hasn't been that bad. An adventure, and a challenge. Some challenges I never wish on my worst enemy, but things that will set the tone for the rest of my life. Things that in time, I will look back on, and think... it happened, that sucked. We all have those, though, dont we?

But bring it on 25, in less than a week, I am coming for you.

peace, love, and moving on up,
b