Taxes sent, check. Back on the "healthy eating" plan, check. The Pope has landed, check. Speaking of which, the whole Pope thing really amuses me, and so do his outfits, that are really just costumes.... but whatever, Happy Birthday.
New AWESOME job freelancing at a magazine, check!! I'm so terrible at keeping my mouth shut (hence the blog) however I couldn't be more stoked (yes, I will still talk like a California surfer and say stoked, gnarly, and for sure) on this one, it's a huge, huge career step for me that will involve a lot of fun gallivanting about with starlets and such, fusing entertainment and writing, my two favorite things.
I am still loving New York, but now- our honeymoon is over. New York and I were dating each other and we were on our best behavior for awhile; it was impressing me and showing me all of it's attractive qualities, I had stars in my eyes and I sashayed down it's streets. New York was courting me in the old fashioned, chivalrous way that a big, strong, city (I'd like to insert MAN here asap so that my relationship with NYC doesn't have to get intimate, kissing dirty concrete is not my gig) should.
New York, just like anyone you're dating after some time, is starting to show me it's true colors.
All week long I've wanted to slip on a California sun dress and flip flops, I've wanted to throw my hair in a messy bun on top of my head and not give a shit that I didn't IRON my fucking jeans, but New York wouldn't like that. I've wanted to wear sweatpants and tank tops like I did in L.A. every. day. and not have New York wondering why I didn't get dressed up.
I've wanted to invite friends over and spread out on the carpet and play Sorry while one of the men of the group barbecued on our balcony, but New York won't give me space to do it.
I really need to get my nails done, so they don't look like a rabid animal got a hold of my hands but New York wants me to save my money for other things.
New York has stopped showing up on time and doesn't always get me a taxi when I'm in a hurry, like it used to.
I'd love to lay out on the beach all day long and eat frozen yogurt with my toes covered in sand, sunburnt skin and my best friends....but New York hasn't give me a day to lay on the beach and New York doesn't include my best friends. New York doesn't like nature and wouldn't ever want to go camping or take a hike. New York doesn't understand why I miss Target so much and things Duane Reade will suffice, this is a big argument for us. It doesn't understand that my idea of "home" doesn't inlclude a doorman.
I really needed to run a simple errand and New York reminded me that I, "lack direction" whatever that means. New York loved taking me out and now it wants to eat foot long Subway sandwiches because there's an "amazing $5 dollar deal." New York isn't as clean as I thought it was and New York doesn't want to cuddle. Worst of all, New York is constantly nagging me about what I'm going to do next, New York had a glass of wine to celebrate my new venture and immediately wanted to start talking about work again instead of kicking off it's shoes and watching Rock of Love. New York doesn't care about my family, or the whole "family" thing at all, which is a major concern for me, New York never wants to cook at home and won't set down it's Blackberry. New York is "leaving the seat up" in a big way.
Like many of my ex's, Los Angeles included, New York is showing me that it isn't perfect. Shame on me for projecting perfection onto it, but again New York is making it very clear to me that maybe there is a reason I'm usually single....