Back at Home, and impromptu High School reunion...

I am really enjoying being in NC! So nice. Just me and my old pal Bud Light watching music videos and Degrassi The Next Generation. I'm at home totally regressing. Haha. I LOVE watching videos, haha and the channel MTV hits is the shit, but they don't have it in NY for some freak reason. Degrassi comes on Friday at 8pm I think, and I am never there to watch it, so somehow there are 7 episodes on demand to watch--and I eating it up.

Tonight I'm going to Bex house for her annual friday-after-thanksgiving party. She's the only local who hasn't left CH and doesn't live with her parents, so her house is pretty choice. I'm a little blah about going tonight. Like Bex is my buddy and some of the other girls who will be there I'm still cool with, but honestly? I sorta haven't tried to keep in touch with anyone from HS. It's like, at the time when I was running track and stuff, my team mates became my best friends, but 4 years of college and now 2 more years tacked on has made that gap between us seem enormous. I'm curious to see how it will all play out tonight. I mean, it's not like anything ended badly, but I was a little surprised when I was looking through my phone and realized that I don't even have 4 of my old friends phone numbers in my phone anymore. I don't think I've changed at all... And I just hope we all get together tonight and it's like no time has passed between us all. So we'll see. I'm excited to reminisce none the less.
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The Long and Winding Road: Fails and Victories.

Ya'll I am just trying to get home for thanksgiving. That plan just got its balls chopped off after a series of unfortunate events:

Go catch the M60 bus at 7:00pm. It was supposed to take 40min, getting me to LGA a good hour before my flight, 8:45pm. Right?

Fail#1 M60 didn't come at 7:00. It came at 7:22pm
Fail#2 the bus was creepin over some M-Fin bridge. Pulls up to LGA at 8:30pm
Fail#3 I run to counter, and the guy promptly plays my face on some "girrlll you ain't gettin on THAT plane" and I'm all "diva bitch, don't make this worse than it is."
Victory#1 Some Boss Bitch pipes in that my flights delayed and that I CAN get on it. Ballin
Fail#4 so hungry, but I decide on chex mix because I was plannin to Eat Like A BEAST when I got home.
Fail#5 I get on plane. Pass out. Wake up and, Oh! Hey Girl! We haven't moved. Fuck.
Fail#6 we depart at 10:10pm. I was supposed to board in Philly at 10:15pm.
Fail#7 watching my flight to RDU pull off. Without me on it.
Victory#2 they put us up me up in some hotel, new flight at the crack of ass o'clock in the morning.
Fail#8 I walked into the hotel at 12:02am. The bar and grille closed at 12:00am. Hence my Raisinets dinner.

Despite it all, I am SO ready to be where my family is. Tomorrow can't come soon enough.
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But will you RIDE?

Life moves very quickly. This time last year I just dumped one absolute retard, in hopes of dating another, working 40 hours a week, living in Durham, and barely working on my graduate applications. Jumping back to where I am now--- while the only real changes have been location (as I work more that 40 hours now, and am still in the same dating shenanigans as I was before, gah.) I am so happy for the few constants I have in my life-- and one of those are my friends.

Every girl doesn't get to have ride-or-die girl friends. Allow me to define for those of you who didn't listen to The Lox in middle school.

Ride-or-Die: the kind of girl friend that's going to hold you the eff down. regardless of the situation. She'll tell you when you're right... and also when your ass is wrong. She will tell you if your outfit is skanky, or if you look a little thick with it--- and she's also the first to tell you how fly you really are.

She'll tell you the stuff you don't want to hear: like you're boyfriend isn't good enough for you, or that you need to stop sloming on the weekends. She'll also tell you when to get your head out of your ass when it's a good guy you're trying to game.

She'll spend a whole hangover sunday with you, watching The Game or Girlfriends on BET (hahahah SM and Morgs).

She takes your phone call after hours, and would skip work or school for you. She has your back when you don't have your own. She'll dislike someone for no reason other than the fact that they hurt her home girl. When your family isn't on the same page, your R-or-D friend is.

and. a true ride-or-die best girl friend will fight.

hahaha this made my laugh out loud because this reminds me of my relationship with SM, RSJ all my girls at CUSSW and at NCSU.

I remember a night out in Atlanta with SM and RSJ. We arrived to a local bar and these chicks were muggin and it was pretty clear that SM (the usual instigator) was going to mug back. Indeed, she did. Me and another girl (read: not ride or die) was there, and RSJ was at the other side of the bar.

I see SM getting ready to Knuck and promptly tell her that of course, I'll hold her down. SM and I look to "the other girl" and asked her, very simply:

"are you down to ride?"

her answer?

"ride where?"

No. "other girl" was not ride-or-die.


Another night, at Olivia's going away party in Raleigh. Some freakin fail of a guy was talking reckless to Charlotte.... and before we knew it. This table of 9 real smart class girls flipped the damn script. Everyone (except the always, even, enigmatic, RSJ who calmly reminded us "if you guys ignore him, he'll stop" hahahaha ) starts to literally rip this guy to shreds. SM, myself, Charlotte, Penny, Hannah B, and maybe a couple others somehow continue this shit this guy started. Proceed to get him thrown out and people were telling us how sorry they were for HIS behavior. (in hindsight.... I imagine we were way worse than him....but fuck it. you mess with one, you mess with all...)

Now, while I don't think fighting a la "Bad Girls Club" is anything to aspire to, I do completely understand that mentality. I love it when I BBM Morgs or K.Beau and am like "Ya'll I'm about to die, x,y,& z is happening." the first question is always "...do we need to squad up?" or, if you're Morgs ".... bitch I might be..." haha this shit makes me laugh now.

Thing is, it seems it's better to have a tight knit circle of girls who would hold you down regardless, as opposed to standing there looking to your left when it goes down because you don't have anybody to clique up with.

You're not 19 anymore.

I've been thinking a lot about growing up lately. I suppose its because that's where I am in life now. My friends are getting married, others are in grad school, you know, grown up stuff. Sure, 23 is close to 19 than it is to 30, but the shit you could do at 19 does not work anymore.

Today's example: at 23 years old I have a real respect for breakfast. It must be eaten to function.

In my youth breakfast was reserved for hangovers, weekends, and special occasions. I regularly went through my high school day on nothing but the slushie I got at wilco when I skipped spanish. And I'd eat lunch of course, but at like 2:00. That is some young girl behavior. I was thinking of the many convos I've had with RSJ and SM about the old days. Effortlessly thinner, and we still went to the gym all the time. I remember undergraduate days of skipping dinner to drink all night, or how we'd eat late night on the reg (like that's even acceptable.)
I'm def. To old for that mess now.

Now, if I don't eat everything breaks down. Can't think, can't work, bitchassness, the whole deal. Its so not worth it.

What I've learned now is that breakfast is where its at. That's a picture of my typical 5:30am meal. Sure, it looks like a meal for a 3rd grader, but I'm on a break from Special K red berries, and Fruit Loops are my second fav. I haven't mastered the art of 3-square meals and I still eat too much junk, but I'm workin on it.... All in due time I suppose.


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They've cut me loose.

Here I am, way downtown around battery park. My internship had a training at DHS this morning. Instead of going up to the Bronx this morning, I went down to 33 Beaver Street myself. No problem because blackberry is amazing and google maps is a lifesaver.

I have a client who I recently got placed at a safe haven down in Manhattan on Bowery st (think location of the old CBGB). So, the training ends and here is the conversation:

Doug: so you're going over to the Andrews?
Me: um, ya. I'd like to go.
Doug: you know how to get there.
Me: (silence). I can get there. Sure.


Backstory--- I mentioned before, my internship is a mobile unit. I have an office, but we do a lot of stuff using the 5 company cars. I have become a champion passenger since I don't have driving privileges. I mean, I got over my pretty much constant car sickness AND my need to sleep while someone else drives.

Even MORE backstory-- its time for my mid-semester review. Like I've mentioned before, my school is very touchy feel-y and Doug and I have to have an hour long oral dialogue about where I think I'm at, where he thinks I'm at and a slew of other awkward-ass things. Needless to say, I am less that excited. Being evaluated is so uncomfortable. It doesn't help that Doug is a CUSSW alum, he's only 27 and he's someone who, in my real life, I'd want to be friends with/ wanna make out with a little. Hahahaha. I die.

Ok. Back to the real story--

So he cut me loose. And I know this is a "how-independent-self-sufficient-is-this-intern" test. And I am up for it. I just got to the canal street stop and I might jump off and go get me somethin fake right quick....

Actually, just got to my real stop. Wish me luck! I hope to prove myself with Doug and my co-workers...and to myself as well. I do live here now, and I can't hide out in the UWS and Hunts Point forever. Its all about branching out for the second semester...


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Nice One.

It didn't make everything all right. It didn't make anything all right... but I'll take it. With open arms. Because when spring comes, it melts the snow one flake at a time, and maybe I just witnessed the first flake melting. -K.Hosseini

Venus vs Mars: on Communication.

I mentioned that in my brief time away, I would randomly think of things I wanted to write on my blog, I'd start the post, then just save it as a draft. Well, all of those stories/snippets/I'm sorry for partying/life lessons, have turned in to a lil somethin' somethin' I'm going to call "Venus vs Mars." Why? a) When Jay-z's Blueprint 3 came out, banker and I heard that song, resolved it was written about is and geeked out about it for about 2 weeks. b) over the weeks, I have had numerous "oh, word??" moments with the Banker. You know what I'm talking about.... like, something happens that is good for the gander (read: NOT good for the goose) and ALL I can think is "Oh, wooorrrddd????" Like, this is so not gonna work. For like... me. At all.

As these little situations have come and gone, I have had time to reflect on them, on me, on girls in general. You know, all that "self-awareness" that I am learning at school (see how applicable it all is??) Figured I would share them because really as far as you know, all I do in New York is stand around taking pictures of myself in clothes/whine about being busy/listen to songs with awkward love undertones. Not (completely) true. I just hit my 100th post the other day, and figure anyone who still reads should be privy to a little more inside information. Lets see how many of you are left when I get to the 200th post.... so, here goes:

In the inaugural post of this nature, I'll hit you with the most recent.

Venus vs Mars--- Communication.


Allow me to set up the scene:

[End of September]

Me: Banker, my schedule in November is totally erratic. I'm going home the first weekend for a wedding, my mom's gonna come up for like a week, You know, I'll leave for Thanksgiving....
Banker: How do you fill up your whole November when it's September?
Me: I don't know... but we're like, never gonna see each other.
Banker: It will be fine, I usually go on Vacation in November, this year I'm thinking Barbados, maybe Cabo.
Me: What.
Banker: I'm not going to forget about you because I'm going on vacation.

Whats wrong here?? In theory, nothing at all. In fact, I'll give the boy snaps for picking up on the mini freak out I had when he mentioned "Cabo" (in my defense, I think it was a reflex! Seriously, though...who the eff is like, "hey, boy-I-wanna-date, please, run as fast as you can to Sodom and Gamorrah-- no worries here." Please.) In the conversation above, indeed: Whats Good for the Goose, is Good for the Gander.

Lets come back to this little scenario: [last week]
sidebar: This is about day 12 of mess. Schedules are all over the place, he's doing ~60hrs a week, I'm waking at 5:00am and going to bed at 1:00am. It's an all around sucky crap-tastic time.

Me: Banker, I'm gonna be up for another couple of hours, you wanna call me here now in a few so I can take a break. (a text, obviously)
Banker: Can we talk tomorrow?? I'm half way to being asleep..... I'm sorry, Goodnight babe.

[here is the 10 minute window of angry silence that translates as "no text back"]

Banker: ?? hello?
Me: well, you know I'm going home on Thursday, and when I get back my mom is here for the week. I have no clue when we're gonna hang out, what, in December? [this is the blog-better version of my text back. the REAL one was full brat mode. but, for self-preservation, I've edited it. At least I admitted it though....]
Banker: I'm going to Barbados next week.

And: I promptly call SM, which is crazy because I don't like talking on the phone. Mid-SOS phone call the Banker Beeps in.

We talked, we mended. All is well. But let me break it down:

*Boys and Girls are different. Very different. Not the same at all. And sometimes, no matter how wonderful everything else is, the fundamentals can get a little messy. Take communication: Banker figured I remembered he took vacation in November. Yea, I remember him saying it, but I had no clue in real life. Me, I wanna know things like "Hey, I'm thinking of going on holiday, ________ week" or "I just got tickets for vacation!" Little update are nice. Being in the loop is GOOD FOR THE GOOSE. If the Goose is happy, the Gander is happy! Isn't this a basic concept?


The only way this is even remotely tolerable, aside from my ride-or-die girls, is the Banker himself. I am fortunate to have a nice boy like the banker. The little (and not so little) hiccups are made that much easier because he isn't a jackass. In fact, most of the time when these Venus vs. Mars differences occur, I am ready to peace out. I'm a quitter sometimes, I'll confess. My friends (who are all "team Banker" as they so readily remind me) are quick to give me some perspective: Good guys are few and far between. Banker is no angel-- but he always tries. I means, lets be honest, I'm not Sandra Dee. I'm more of a Rizzo. And that can be a lot of fun, until it's not fun anymore more, I'm sure. Basically, the only way to fight is to fight fair, and, a lot of the time, all a girl needs to here is "I'm sorry." It seriously wins 1/2 the battle. So, take that little pearl (little brother of mine, I know you're reading...)

I share this story specifically because I know how to do a lot of things, and the things I can't do, I can fake it til I make it. Except for dating. I don't do it. It's like, pointless and annoying and I can't stay still long enough to bother with it all. So I've just played the game my own way for the past 4 years or so. I'm Boss Bitch at being single, complete 5th grader at dating. I remember before I moved, good ole Grace told me that as soon as I met a guy that was worth it I'd give in a little. And, as my friend Kells would say "You're little ice box is more of a slushie now." I think about one of the final scenes in The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, and how his heart great 3x bigger after hearing the people of Who-ville sing. Not comparing myself to the Grinch, obviously I'm not out dicking people over, left and right.... I guess I wanna find the happy medium between Boss Bitch and Stupid Girls, and I suppose now is a good time to figure it out.

back from the dead.

Midterms are finally fucking over. Wow. big bomb there, but I had to drop it because that's just how crucial things were for the past couple of weeks.

I just got home from my first visit to NC. My apologies to everyone I wanted to see and didn't get to. The point of the trip was specifically to go to my friends wedding, and that became my priority over the weekend-- and rightfully so, as it was the most amazing wedding I have been to. CD (or I guess she should be CDW now...) and her boo DW are 2 of my favorite people on earth, everyone knows that. So, no worries, I'll be home for 5 full nights at the end of the month and promise to make the rounds.

I plan to post about the wedding as well as some new lil "features" or whatever--- that I thought of during the times I was procrastinating from my work.

Daylight Save, This.

man I really miss a good long day, when it's still light out (read: I still feel productive) at 7:00pm.

this dark-by-4:30pm is killin me a little...


picture via postsecret

Halloween Woes.

I'm so bad at Halloween. Selecting a costume is difficult and like, having fun is a struggle too. Don't get me wrong, I'm effing fun as hell, but something about Halloween just kills me. I think this is why I always had a hard time getting on board with themed Pi Phi functions. I never knew what to wear/ didn't want to wear it. So, obviously last night was Halloween, and my friend KB decided to have a party at her apartment because her sister, as well as many of her friends from undergrad were in town.

Now, it's not like Halloween can just sneak up on you. Obviously its on Oct. 31, and every place on earth has seasonal swag everywhere. Why I wait until 7:00pm on Halloween night to look for a costume is beyond me. Couple that with the level of mayhem in the city because its gang initiation week and Saturday was the last night of it all. Needless to say, wandering around looking for a costume in the dark by myself wasn't really an option.

So, the banker came by after he got on work around 4:00 and we caught some of the Wake Forest v Miami game while I took a break from school work and he more or less napped on the couch. This turned into Nap Time At The Hargett's-- and here I am, take a nap, mid day, when I really have like, oh, a million things I need to do. Now, banker doesn't "do' Halloween after 29 years of NYC living, he's not up for the shenanigans that the night inevitably produces (man after my own heart, but i digress...)

We leave my house around 7, he is heading to the 116th street bus stop and I decide that to find a costume I should go to the only place I ever want to go for anything-- Rite Aid. I can't explain my relationship with it. Everything there is more expensive, they don't even have what I'm looking for 1/2 the time. The real grocery store is 1 more block away and there are bodegas, 99 cent stores (real popular up here), and liquor store in like a 3 block radius, but I am die hard Rite Aid! There was no costume in there. All they had left were fake severed limbs. I thought if worse comes to worse I could just wear some clothes, carry the fake bloody leg around and be a cannibal or something. Yup, a cannibal. That's the upper limit of my creativity. I buy beer and head home.

I immediately start dissecting my closet (and E's closet or that matter) and have come up with bits and pieces to make up costumes, but each suffered from the inevitable "if only I'd planned earlier....." crisis, and were discarded. While digging for a baseball cap I stumbled across my apron. You know, the one I own for when I cook (and y'all know I don't really cook like that....) Back to my closet.

I find my fishnets. over sized pearls. over sized button earrings. cardigan.... mary janes.... hum. what can I make..... OK, now for the back story:

my friends and I up here are all in a very interesting boat. All of us have a "somebody" in our lives, and up until last week, only Kelly was official. You know, an actual wifey. All of us joke about how we're just tryin to get that wifey status or how we want the "somebody" to become Superboo one day (Superboo-- download Kid Cudi song with same title). Clearly I haven't divulged much about me and the banker as of lately, but I can say that we are still in the "you're somebody" stage.

OK. Back to the front story:

I'm talking to Kelly at the time about how much Halloween sucks and costumes are confusing etc. I tell her what I have as possibilities. Conversation.

Me "I mean I just have these big ass pearls and you know, some bourgie clothes"
Kelly " I have a gold mask if you wanna borrow it."
Me "And what would I be?"
Kelly "I don't know."
Me "dammit. I'm just gonna dress like a housewife, put on this apron and go as Wifey. I mean, Halloween is supposed to be about playing make-believe, and all, right"
Kelly " OMG. I Die. That's hilarious. Get dressed and get over here."

so, I guess that solved that. and thus my costume was born. KB's visiting friend Jess gave it an official title "Can't turn a Ho into a Housewife"Fitting title for many reasons, but mainly because after many adult beverages my costume lost the skirt portion. in the official sense-- I still had the apron on....

So here are a couple very sloppy pictures. I'll add the pants-less one for your viewing pleasures as soon as whoever camera it's on sends it.

Me, KB, and Tomas playin around in front of the camera.
Myself and darling Tomas. He is officer Dangle from Reno 911
Me and Kelly finally pull of some sort of costume and pose for a picture.
There it is, me, and my new favorite Bud Light Golden Wheat. Big Pearls and all.

Cribs: NYC apartment edition.

I was looking back over old blog posts, mainly the ones from when I was moving in and setting up at my apartment. I realized I never posted any pictures of my room. That was the last thing to come together for me because E and I both put the emphasis on the common areas first. I still have some finishing touches to do on my room, specifically in the decoration department. You have to excuse the mess. I am in general a super clean person, but sometimes that has to fall to the side. Cleaning is at the top of the list of "get your shit together Sunday" as soon as my Policy paper is finished. Anyways here we go:

This is what my room looks like if you're standing over by the door. Now, let the tour REALLY begin....


"...and here's where the magic happens..." You know how everyone says that on Cribs?? whatever. My bed fits perfectly in this one corner of the room. My bed frame itself is a platform bed with 4 drawers and a cabinet for extra space. I haven't figured out a nightstand yet. I'm thinking of a corner shelf thing that would just fit into the wall on the side of the bed that meets the wall. We'll see.


Since floor space is hard to come by and NYC apartments are awesome about the tall ceilings and doors, I made it a point to build up. Behind my room door is where all my shoes are (seasonal, of course. The others are stored in a bin in the cabinet under my bed) That amazing shoe rack came from Bed Bath and Beyond. Such a clutch buy.
I have 3 windows in my room. only 1 us used for actual light. The other 2 make for great storage for some of my boots.
See those silly snow boots there? I bought those when I was still living in NC. a complete impulse buy because, obviously I didn't need them there. Apparently they are going to save my life up here when the snow ans slush take over the roads and sidewalks. Pretty happy to have them now, not sure how to wear them though....

My desk area. I adore it. Something about desk space is important. I go to the library a lot, but it's also good to have a work area at home that's conducive to getting it done. I used a set of plastic drawers to make for extra drawer space and it fits nicely under the desk.

And I got this little light weight metal and glass book shelf to hold the overflow desk and bookshelf stuff.

The living room set I bought when I was living in Durham came with E and I, but the arm chair didn't fit in out living room properly, so it found a home in my room. Unfortunately it ends up looking like that, covered in my school bag, purse, clothes I decided against wearing, etc. But I'm working on making a habit of NOT dumping everything there!


The closet is at the back of the room (across from the bookshelf) My hanging cothes go in there, and the jeans are folded at the top, along with hand bags and my luggage. I fold a good portion of my clothes, so all tees, tanks, gym stuff, undergarments, sock, tights, are either in the drawers under my bed, or in the wooden cabinet (seen in 1st picture)


The top shelf in the cabinet holds my jewelery. it's funny I have so much stuff because I pretty much only wear the same few pieces. At some point I stopped wearing dangle earrings (when my hair was at its shortest) but I think they will make a comeback sometime soon.



So, thats the room! I love it, and I can't wait to finish decorating and getting all the pictures in frames/art from home on the wall.