This ones for my 'big sister'

I have to tell you all about someone. This someone has taken a very big role in my life without even knowing it- her and I have formed this big/little sister relationship in my eyes. She experiences things 4 years ahead of me and guides me through the tough times. Her and I have never really hung out or went for long lunches- but she is the only person who can really say that she understands what I am going through in this transition of my life, because she has been there- literally- almost the exact same transition, down to the time line.

Our sister like relationship started my senior year of high school (we both attended the same high school, her 4 years earlier) when I went to visit Indiana University in April. She was a senior at the time and getting ready for graduation. We took a tour around the school and ate lunch at Village Deli (if you went to Indiana, you know what I am referring to). She showed us her house on 9th and Grant (I lived on 8th and Grant my senior year... just a side note) and explained how she was selling her mattress and how difficult the process was. After that visit, I decided to commit to Indiana University and enroll as a freshmen the following fall.

First semester came and went. Being at such a large school, I was unsure of what major to pick. The advisors didn't quite take the time to get to know me, so I e-mailed my 'big sister' and asked her for advice. She guided my towards the communication school and a minor in business. Best decision ever made in my education career. With this major choice, I am able go anywhere and do anything because I have the basic life tools to communicate with others and handle myself in a business platform.

Now comes senior year of college. Graduation came and went. The difficulty of selling my furniture really was as annoying as she described it and the shock of moving out of Blooming was as devastating and terrifying as she said it would be (I'm not sure she she even knows I remember this much from our hour and a half lunch at Village Deli).

I took a trip to Israel and upon my return decided to pick up my bags and move to New York. Well, as it so happens, my 'big sister' did the same thing 4 years before me. She decided to leave our safe nest of Marietta Georgia and conquer the wild and untamed circus of New York. She too bunked in with someone until she got her feet on the ground. She too worked for one of the biggest magazine companies as an assistant for her first job. About a month before moving, I gave her a call for advice. To hear about her adventures of the past 4 years and get some tips. At the beginning of the conversation, there was a blank notepad in front of me, by the end- there was no space for any more words, tips or advice. The page was jammed pack with how to save money- where to go- what to do- how to look for a job and everything else under the sun. She built the skeletal outline for how I was going to conquer the city, she had her basics and left if up to me to fill in the details.

The amount of things her and I have done similar is a bit insane, considering her and I really have no other connections than our lives taking the same paths. But she is there, and her and I are suppose to have this relationship. Whoever it benefits more, me or her, really does not matter. But I have to share something that she wrote to me after reading my past few posts, "New York can be a tough place, especially coming from good ol' Marietta, GA and Bloomington, IN. As I'm sure you've noticed, people don't hold to door open when they notice you are right behind them. The barista at Starbucks doesn't call you "sweetie" when she takes your order or ask how your day is. The waiter at the restaurant you're having dinner at is not interested in schmoozing. People on the subway have no interest in moving out of the way when you're getting on or off of the subway cars. I’ll go ahead and make the statement that a lot of people in New York are so consumed by their own lives that they forget to notice what’s going on right in front of them. At times you’ll feel that human connection is lost…but let me assure you, my sweet GA peach, that there is so much more to this city.

I’m here to give you a pep talk."

To my 'big sister', Thank you. This post was for you. You have lit my flame back again to conquer this city. You have been the flash light holder in my journey through the tunnel of life since my senior year of high school. No other words to say other than your the best. I do not have any sisters and I know you don't either, but if you ever want a little one, I already consider you my big.

Lesson Learned,

sisters don't always have to be best friends or related- just knowing that they get it and they have really been there creates a bond that not even I can describe.

Peace, Love and thanks for being my Sister,

B

Free Spirits

I want to apologize to all my readers (all 8 of your.. maybe more that I'm unaware of) for the not so happy and funny blogs the past few days. Someone once told me that, when a free spirit has a bad day, its a really bad day. I am a free spirit- for the most part floating on cloud 9, but every once in a while- my spirits crash. When I take that tumble, its noticeable in my every being. Usually, my insides are fine and I rebound quickly, but to everyone else I seem like a train wreck. Thanks to you all who have been concerned. But I also want to reassure you- no need to worry. This free spirit is just wandering through the bad day, trying to discover everything that makes the good days- so good.

Take a step and imagine your lives- ups and downs, twists and turns. The difference between your lives and what I have decided to do with this blog, is your lives are private. Your inner thoughts are kept inside. I want everyone to come on the ride of my inner thoughts and experiences. I find some sort of comfort to know that people are sharing my life with me. To know that when I do have a bad day in this huge city, and all I feel like doing is crying, you guys, my readers, know how I feel- you are with me all the time.

For letting you into my life, I need you guys to do me a favor. I really do love writing about my life and every day- what would be amazing is to take this blog somewhere, write for a living. Write about my challenges, about my struggles, ups, downs and of course those times I lock all my clothes in lockers or date boys not for me. Writing about my life and possibly helping other people enjoy their lives is what I want to do- possibly forever. Everyone searches for their meaning, and this might possibly be mine. So what I need from you- pass my blog on, please. Sign up to follow me. Pass it on to anyone and everyone you know. The more readers I can share my thoughts with, the more people I can entertain and reach out to and who knows, maybe even get paid some extra money to help pay back some student loans. Who Knows, anything is possible.

Peace, Love and Pass it on,

B

Apples and Peaches

Yesterday morning was a little rough for me. I finally came to the realization that I do not love New York. 3 months have flown by of me living here and this city just is not for everyone. I will stick around for awhile, because I enjoy a good fight, but I called my mom and said a simple sentence, "Mom, I have come to the conclusion that New York is not for me. I am not totally happy here."

Granted, I have only lived here for three months and I will stick around for a little while longer, I do not have to justify why I want to go home. Its my home- I have been away from Atlanta for 4 years during college and no I am in New York, I just miss my home.

My revelation got me thinking while on the E train going into the city to watch the Indiana Football game with some friends. Of course I get the best thinking done on the E train- who couldn't? I mean, being surrounded by a handful of strangers, you feel so alone and my head just starts spinning.

Here is my analogy of why New York and I just do not fit:

"I am a peach, not an apple. Apples, tough on the outside, can be thrown around, shoved, pushed and their tough outer layer protects their sweet insides. But a peach is tender all over, cannot take a beating like an apple can. A peach is warm and enjoys the sun, it can take a little pushing but will burst easier. I am a peach, a Georgia peach, New Yorkers are apples and no matter how much I try, I am a peach through and through."

And whats the lesson learned?

It's ok. Life is about making choices and decisions to find what I really want.

Peace, Love and Peace Season,

B

Good Job Master Lock

I have to give the Master Lock company major props- because their locks really are the master and I found out why tonight. Trying to break those open is like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole- basically impossible.

My day had already been a little rough and I figured I would go to the gym across the street to blow off some steam and stress. Take 2 hours to myself and not think- it was a good idea in theory. I changed into my gym clothes at work and headed across the street. I was trying to make a 5:45 boxing class and had about 2 minutes to spare. In a rush, I threw everything into a locker, grabbed my lock out of my bag and closed the door and locked my lock. In the rush, I literally threw everything into the locker- including my phone- wallet- and of course, my keys. Not only was my locker key being held hostage by the locker, but my house keys. So there was not even the option of taking the hour trek back to Queens to get the spare key (on top of that, my phone was in the locker, so I couldn't even call anyone for help). The only phrase that came into my mind, "Seriously????"

I went up to the main desk and explained my dilemma, she told me to just go ahead and try to enjoy my work out and she will get someone to help after to cut the lock. So that is what I did- semi enjoyed my run (missed the boxing class) and kept thinking about how in the world was my stuff going to be set free. Needless to say- I lied, it was not an enjoyable work out at all.

An hour and a half later- I wandered back to the front desk and the puzzle of how to break the lock was on. Apparently, my lock is the best kind out there- impossible to break. After 15 minutes of the older woman trying to pry open the lock- we had to clear out the womens locker room so a man could come in a help us. He pulled out the big guns- a huge plyer- this one, he explained to me was only used as a last resort. The last resort plyer's saw their last day because my lock managed to break the hinge on them.

Finally, after 45 minutes of praying and hard work, we defeated the Master Lock. Granted, the lock can never be used again, but I got my stuff back.

But really, Seriously- only me. At least theres never a dull moment in my adventures of this great, big city.

Peace, Love and Master Locks,

B

To the next 5 years...

This weekend I went to homecoming. And now I 100% understand why they call it homecoming. When I was a student, I thought it was just another excuse to go out every night and go to classes hungover. But the real meaning for homecoming is for all the graduates to literally come home. Bloomington will always be a little slice of heaven and being away for the past 6 months was way to long.

But what was not way to long, was this weekend. This weekend was way too short- part of me just wanted to sit with all my friends and catch up on the past 6 months and the other part of me wanted to re-live second semester senior year, needless to say, the other part of re-living senior year won. I was non stop and shocked of how easy it was just to slip back into senior year me. I arrived in Indianapolis at 8:15 and Bloomington around 9:30- at our favorite bar (Nicks) by 10:45 and drinking beer and eating biz fries (the most amazing French fries with spices and a mayo dipping sauce... only can be made there- they are out of this world, believe me) by 11. The rest of the night was nonstop as well- complete with one hour of sleep around 6am and kegs and eggs bright and early at 8am. This was all just in 12 hours.

Something that I realized this weekend- college by far- was the best decision I ever made. Those 4 years I changed, morphed, laughed, cried, and everything in between more than any other time in my current life.

Now- sitting at my desk at 9:15 am, I am falling into a deep nostalgic state just thinking about it. I feel like I am in a dream and in about 30 seconds I will wake up back in room 622 in Foster Harper (my Freshmen dorm) on the first day of classes. This feeling will fade, I know it will, but I don't want it to because it's what I have to hold on to until my life starts rolling. I am still in the holding pattern of living in my Aunts house- dreaming of the day when I can finally afford to move out. I am a firm believer of living in the current and in the now- doing things just to do them, and every day in this big city, I am living just like that, but its not the same. I cannot say with full confidence that I am truly happy. My job is amazing- but again, like in my internship, I am feeling antsy, like I want to work with people more, I want to be known (for what, not sure, but known)- I want to be able to release all of this energy I have built up. That is the job I eventually will be in. But until I can really, really say that I am truly happy- I will keep dreaming about Bloomington and about the next time I can be with my friends in the greatest town on earth...

While at Sports on Saturday night/Sunday morning, around 3am, my best friends and I took a shot and toasted to the next 5 years. The next 5 years of us all being friends and our lives to the next 5 years- Should be a roller coaster ride.

Lesson Learned over this past weekend:

I need to find what makes me happy so I can stop thinking about Bloomington so much.

Peace, Love and the next 5 years,

B

Just Let the Freak Flag Fly

The Star Wars convention (or comic-con) was in town this weekend. On my of my trips back to Queens, there were two storm troopers on my train. Straight up Storm Troopers, holding their helmets exchanging stories about how cool their experience was and swapping video game techniques. At first, looking at these two guys, I couldn't help but laugh. I mean, come on, who wouldn't laugh? They were dressed as storm troopers. But after a few minutes of ease dropping, I got to thinking- good for these guys. Good for them that they do not care what other people think of them. My immediate reaction was that they were nerds- but really, who am I to judge, they just let their freak flag fly and they do not care. They know what they like, they know what they are talking about and they love Star Wars to the point where they are willing to dress up in full costume to attend a convention. I do not think that I have ever really loved something that much. Loved something to the point where I would dress up in costume and ride the subway or spend hundreds of dollars to deck myself out.

I am at a juncture in my life where I need a change- a life change, where I am going to let my freak flag fly. I have never really cared what people though of me, just the way I was born, but now it' to let myself do more, find something that I love to do. I will go on the hunt for my Storm Trooper obsession.

Lesson Learned:

Letting my freak flag fly is totally acceptable, Now time to find it.

Peace, Love and Storm Troopers,

B

Woman Down on the E

Yesterday was quite the city hopping day. My plan was to be at the Indiana bar by 12 for the IU/OSU game, Times Square by 3 to meet my grandparents and a sports bar around 5 to watch the rest of the Alabama game. Then after all the football and meeting people, I was going to a new friends place by NYU for a pregame. That is what was suppose to happen. A busy day planned for the bag lady in Manhattan. Thank goodness I payed the 89 dollars for my unlimited card- because a day that I had planned took me everywhere.

This is what actually happened...

Since I went to a concert Friday night at Madison Square Garden and did not get back to Queens until 12:30-1 (and had a few drinks at happy hour complete with a large beer at the concert), my wake up call at 9am Saturday morning did not even phase me. Finally, I rolled out of bed around 10:30, giving me just enough time to shower, eat breakfast, drink coffee and leave my aunts house by 11:15.

My power walk to the subway was not as fast as it is during my morning commute, but as long as I made it there before 11:40, I would at least make it to the bar before the 2nd quarter. For some reason, the stars aligned and right as I walked down to the platform, an E train was waiting for me. There was a typical change in the trip due to weekend construction- but other than that, there was no issue to get me into Manhattan. The doors closed and the train was off.

Halfway between Roosevelt Avenue and Queens bridge, I felt an unusual thud on the ground. Directly after, people started staring towards my left. Since my headphones were blaring, I could not hear what people were saying, but I picked up on the social que that something just wasn't right. I looked to my left and saw a pair of legs sticking out into the aisle on the floor. At first, nothing alarmed me, just because its the subway, I have seen people sleeping, juggling, making out and everything else- but then after someone ran over to the pair of legs, I knew something was wrong. Slowly, people started to look panicked and actually take concern to this unidentified pair of legs on the ground. We figured out that the legs belonged to a women, and she was awake again, but not moving. Her eyes were open- looking around, and she finally spoke, 'what happened.' A very kind man (native New Yorker, could tell by his voice) keeled down with her and instructed her not to move, just in case there was damage. Once the train arrived at Queens bridge, the New Yorker told his wife to stay with the woman and he ran down the platform screaming, "WOMAN DOWN, WE GOT A WOMAN DOWN OVA' HERE!" (I say OVA, because his accent was so thick, the word over was missing its 'r'). The train was delayed about 10 minutes until they could get the woman onto the platform. Once the doors closed again and we were back on route, our train car gave the man an ovation for his good deeds, which he fully deserved. Just one more story for my interesting rides on the E train.

Lets just say that for the Indiana game, I did not miss much. The passed out women on the train did not help the fate of my beloved Hoosiers, OSU scored within the first 5 minutes. Finally, I arrived at the bar on 52nd and 2nd- met my friends and drank a beer. After a few minutes, I received a text from a friend from home, telling me to come to the UGA bar on 11th and 4th to watch the UGA/Tennessee game. Since the IU game was depressing, I figured why not. It was only 1 and I did not have to meet my grandparents until 3. Found the 6 train and was on my way.

Little did I know that 11th and 4th is a little farther downtown than I have ever been before. A commute that should have taken me 10 minutes from bar to bar, took me over 45- I got lost. The streets down there are intermixed, the grid is not as straight forward. But after awhile, and a few turnarounds, I made it to the UGA bar.

I will say that the difference in atmosphere of location from the IU bar to the UGA bar is as different as the South and the East Coast. I felt like I was back at home watching the game. Boys were in backwards, torn up hats and polos with khakis. Girls were in t-shirts and jeans, nothing too fancy. Automatically, I felt at east. Since time was already slipping away and I wanted to enjoy myself, I texted my grandma (yes, she texts) and moved our meeting time to 4.

Lets just say, once I was done with dinner with my grandparents around 8, I was in no shape to go out. The only out I wanted was to my bed. And that is what I did. I am not ashamed to say that the day wore me out. I was in bed, asleep on a Saturday night by 11. And you know what? I do not even care.

Lesson Learned:

Turn my headphones down and carry a map. Both things will always be necessary.

Peace, Love and putting my unlimited card to use,

B