Blame it on the Bisquick

Disclaimer:  This post was previously written, kept in a vault for months, and is now resurfacing for your reading pleasure.  That said, my mom’s surgery was a couple of months ago, so don’t call her.  She won’t know what you’re talking about.  That said…

I’ve been driving back and forth between Chapel Hill and Charlotte for the last few weekends to help take care of my mother post back surgery.  I’m happy to have handed her back over to my Dad, who was (because nothing in our family goes without complication) in Mexico for the 8 days after her surgery.  Before getting back to the point at hand, let me just say that 1) go to your parents and loved ones when they are sick.  At least let your presence be known by calls, flowers, or funny cards.  Support makes all the difference.  And 2) man oh man am I happy to have returned her into my Dad’s care.  She is a good patient while she’s heavily medicated and under anesthesia, but after a few days she gets tired of people hovering and looking at her.  That isn’t a personal assumption either- I’ve heard her say it many times.

So, I had a weekend to hang out at home here in Chapel Hill.  Let me just say that I enjoyed it thoroughly.

My dream mixer

The fantastic boyfriend bought me the Magnolia Bakery cookbook a couple of weeks ago (dropping any hints?).  I’ve been wanting it since returning from our trip to New York where we happened to rush into a Magnolia’s while seeking shelter and hot chocolate on a particularly cold night.  Hopefully my recreations in North Carolina will be enough to hold me over until the next trip to Manhattan.

As a result, I spent much of yesterday traveling from store to store in search of ingredients to make lots and lots of cupcakes and other baked goods.  I think that my lack of cooking skills was once an adorable little quirk to the boyfriend, but now that we live together (part of that “new house” change) I think he will encourage me however possible in my quest for mad kitchen skills (with guidance from a cookbook, that is).

My lovely sidekick Katy and I failed in our attempt to make dinners from afar once a week (Blame it on the Bisquick.  It was one recipe’s ingredient and apparently she doesn’t like it.  We’ve been best friends since 10th grade and now I learn that about her.  She’s not picky, except when you bring Bisquick into the mix).  It was fun to try, but it turns out that a lot more planning and coordinating would have to go into it, and neither of us have that kind of time (translation: persistence).

So I was all excited, correction - we were excited, but after leaving a fourth store without my last ingredient – self-rising flour, I was tired and cranky.  Once I find a store that has it, I may get carried away and quickly become that person with an actual use for giant, stackable cupcake carriers.  I saw one the other day at Home Goods (easily my new favorite store by the way).  I pointed and laughed at the pastel-colored containers and then had a glimpse into my future and thought “crap.”  That’s all there was to think.  That will most certainly be me one day.  The girl fumbling around with huge plastic cupcake carriers.

And then I’ll go home, put on a cozy pair of pjs and laugh shamelessly at reruns of The Golden Girls.  Seriously, how do these women get arrested for prostitution on their way to a Frank Sinatra concert?  That’s so like them!  (Insert canned laughter here)

A Skeptic Makes Peace With Valentine’s Day

Valentine’s Day and I have a very evolutionary relationship.  I’ve seen it from different angles and maybe, just maybe I’m beginning to discover what it’s all about.

When I was little, Valentine’s Day was about family and friends.  It was about making handmade cards with doilies, glitter and construction paper with my Mom.  It was about the small heart-shaped box of candy from my Dad that always included a cheesy play on words like “You’re a beary special Valentine!”.  It’s incredible how little pressure there was back then – I was just happy enough having my Dad to be my Valentine.

And of course, Valentine’s Day as a kid meant handing out Care Bear or Strawberry Shortcake valentines to all of my classmates.  The remaining few left to address were always the more suggestive messages such as “Suuure would love to be your Valentine!” rather than the safer platonic messages like “Have a great Valentine’s Day”. Naturally, careful thought and consideration were required when filling in the “To:” line.

Along with growing up, I grew cynical.  Boys and girls in my class started paying more attention to one another (see: “twitterpated“) and I just knew this couldn’t be a sensible thing.  Boys were dumb and distracting.  And they often smelled bad.  When this trend didn’t die down, I regarded VDay as a day like any other except that this one in particular involved dodging balloons in the hallways or as an adult, signing for flowers intended for co-workers.  Even if I found myself with a boyfriend, he usually abided by my request not to cash in on the clichés.  Instead, he high-fived his friends and declared “Coolest. Girlfriend. Ever.”

My position was “You should celebrate love every day of the year, not just one.  Don’t feed the commercial hype.  Gah!”.  For as long as there has been Valentine’s Day, there have been single people feeling blacklisted and even people like myself who had a significant other, but chose to opt out anyways.  The day has always had people like myself on-hand to help remind the world that love isn’t superficial.  Love is to be expressed and shared, not bottled and sold as tacky gifts at your nearest drug store.

After a while, even the best of ‘em finds this battle exhausting.  It seemed like maybe there was something more to these clichés that I was missing.

VDay ’02.  I was a freshman at App State just trying to mind my own business and survive the day when there was a knock at my dorm room door.  My roommate raced to open it,  expecting a lavish adoration in her honor.  I stayed on the bottom bunk and tried not to pay this any attention.  Then I hear “It’s for Abby?!  OooOOooh!”  The Frat Boy I’d been seeing for a week or so (in all fairness, he was not your typical frat boy, but I’m still guilty of both attending and meeting him at a frat party all the same) sent me a dozen roses, a card that said “Happy Valentines Day.  Love, [The Frat Boy]“, and a small teddy bear with crooked eyes.  OooOOooh. These were the first Valentine’s Day clichés I ever received from a guy.  I couldn’t help it – My cold, bitter heart began to thaw.

An on-campus double date at McAlister’s Deli did take place shortly after Valentine’s Day (on campus and yes, he definitely used his meal card to pay for my dinner).  To no one’s surprise, things fizzled shortly after.

I know it’s just one stupid day, but I must not be as bitter as I think because I kept a dried rose from that bouquet and the teddy bear.  It reminds me that even when I think I’m the wallflower brought to a party out of sympathy, someone else in the room can still think I’m pretty darn worthy of grand gestures.

VDay 2009 was a celebration like no other.  After a series of boyfriends and barely noticeable Valentine’s Days over the years, I found myself kicking it solo for the first time in a while.  I wasn’t sad, jealous, or threatened by VDay, but it was important to me to spend it in good company with a single comrade (and in Pittsburgh, apparently).  We celebrated ourselves and our independence.  We didn’t need heart-shaped boxes of candy, but you better believe that we did honor the day with the essentials – alcohol, Ikea, and ice skating.  My valentine and I had the most fun two fabulous women could possibly have in 24 hours.  Banner Valentine’s Day.

Last year, the evolution continued.  I went all out (relatively speaking) and spent Valentine’s Day with my boyfriend.  It was fantastic. I didn’t buy up everything I could see with a heart, or anything with a heart for that matter.  I did, however, go a reasonable distance and bought a couple’s massage. He in turn surprised me with a bouquet of colorful roses (my style -no red!) delivered to my apartment, and the absolute best dinner of my life at a French restaurant.

I gave into the hype because it made me happy to do this with a wonderful, thoughtful person.  He showed me this is not a day to intentionally put our relationship on the back burner to make a point.  We’re happy, so why not be happy on this day too (did I mention that he’s a rational person-just what I need!)?  And for the record, he spoils me with thoughtful cards, flowers and surprises all throughout the year, so I’m not worried that this will suffice as a once a year gig.

I have a few ideas for gifts this year, and they’re thoughtful gifts rather than vomit-inducing or predictable (with one mildly cliché contribution, but it’s from a local co-op and organically made so hopefully this earns back some cred).

I hold firm on my belief that dates and Valentine’s Day are equal opportunity, and both parties should contribute if you are going to celebrate.  It’s all about making the effort and showing the love no matter who your loved one is.  Romantically involved or not – kick bitterness to the curb, break down the stereotype of this being restricted to one demographic,  and embrace the madness as you see fit (grand gestures can include ice skating, cocktails, or as one near-and-dear friend does, host a slasher movie night!).  Just love whatever you decide to do and who you decide to share it with.

Basta Cosi

I’m thankful to have a job.  Even with as much as I complain about it, really, I am thankful.  Lately I’ve been wondering about how much of my own sanity I should sacrifice for it, though.  There are too many greedy people who I deal with daily who have lost sight of what is really important in life – the free stuff.

So here I am, trying to rationalize why I’m not creating a faux sickness, cashing in on my 2 weeks accrued vacation, and looking for jobs online while on tour visiting friends and family (biggest argument against it:  bad juju to be messing with when I don’t have the best genetic makeup anyways.  Also, there’s my conscience saying “You’re better than that!” each time I think of this).  An alternative course of action would be to summon the best of my creativity to reinvent the most dramatic and awe-inspiring “I Quit!” scene there ever was.  In this plan, I go to work at Barnes and Noble where I can be surrounded by books, music, and happy people (the mind remembers what it wants about working in retail).

Alas, I will trudge in my heavy winter coat (or will it be warm tomorrow?  Who knows these days), scrape the ice off my windshield, procrastinating however I may until 7:53 when I can do nothing more than drive to work, sit in my sad cube (imagine Pam’s desk from The Office and then cringe with me), and try to find value in doing clerical work and helping computer-illiterate people find our website over the phone.

Like any aspiring optimist, I try to find joy and humor wherever I can.  Brad, hairstylist and gossip confidant, sighed with me as I told him about Aaron and my trip to NYC last month.  Brad and I get along for a number of reasons:  First, he has a picture of himself with Nick Arosio from TLC’s “What Not To Wear”, which I used to watch religiously.  Also, he loves The Golden Girls (even dressed up with his friends as the fabulous ladies for Halloween).  And to wrap it up, we both love love love Paris, New York, and David Sedaris.  Sigh…

I haven’t had my hair cut regularly, or semi-regularly since I was a kid, but now that I do it has almost become a luxury that I allow myself.  It’s $35 every 8-weeks but also a built-in therapy session.  I get to look good and decompress at the end of the day.  And just when I was feeling great and ready to head home tonight, I noticed the cashier/host/booking boy’s neck tattoo which was written in flowy script, “In Your Face, World“.  This guy wasn’t built like a bouncer or intimidating, ready to stand up in the world’s face.  He said he got it in his early 20′s when he was in a different place in life and just thought “Who cares!” (I may know a thing about that…only I was 18…).  Well, whether or not he regrets his message to the world, it was like a billboard to me saying “HELLO ABBY!  Stop taking things so seriously and just chill out!”.

Take it however you want, but I hope you too find an unexpected billboard to help you through your week.  And remember folks, let’s not take ourselves too seriously, eh?

PS – I started a book club on Jan. 3.  There are 4 women so far and we’re reading “Committed” by Elizabeth Gilbert.  Feel free to read along if you are looking for inspiration via book.

New York – Finally

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Written Sunday, December 12, 2010

I made it.  New York always felt like a lifetime away, especially after so many failed attempts to get here, but as it turns out, the city is only a 1 hour and 8 minute flight away.  Most surprising of all, this has been the same distance all along.  Who knew?

Although December seemed like a great time to go back in the blisteringly hot days of August, it has been a pretty frigid trip.  The morning news reminds us that Manhattan is seeing unseasonably cold temperatures.  So much for a warm welcome.  It’s ok – I have tough skin, especially with anything involving my NY trip.  I learned in my days at App State that it’s not the cold weather one needs to worry about, it’s the wind.  NYC plays by the same book as the NC mountains.

Before I left home, seasoned veterans used only personifying adjectives to describe the wind here.  I kept hearing words like “roaring”, “rushing”, and “chasing”.  It was all a bit daunting, but the truth wasn’t as bad as what i had it in my mind to be, which was great.  Don’t get me wrong though the wind was certainly fierce, it just didn’t turn into the Wicked Witch of the West like I imagined.

Some things I’ve learned about this wonderful city:

• People aren’t rude, they’re just on their way to somewhere important (or seemingly important) and aren’t in the mood to dilly dally.
• Locals don’t look up and marvel.  (I would be a bad local in this regard)
• Exterior doors are heavy.  All of them.
• Public restrooms are often unisex.  Very weird to me.
• Get lost.  You never know what kinds of hidden gems you’ll find.  This is how we discovered Washington Park, NYU, Magnolia Bakery, Times Square, and Central Park.  Enjoy everything along the way.
• The subway is dirty, but not dangerous (from what I saw anyways).
• The city is loud and cars honk their horns any chance they get.  It makes it hard to sleep.  Request a room higher up than the 3rd floor.
• It’s as expensive as you want it to be.  $4 for a Bud Light is better than the $9 I thought it would be.  There are restaurants and bars that are pricey, but many are reasonable and advertise specials outside.
• The buildings are not as sky-scraping as I thought they would be.  In my imagination they were, well, Dubai proportions.  It’s a good thing that they’re not as giant.  It makes this place seem real after all, and helps me believe that I’m actually here.
• Locals are helpful and approachable.
• We walked to W. 82 Street and back to the other side on E. 51st.  The city is walkable.
• I never felt unsafe, even on small streets.
• My haggling skills do not translate to NY street vendors.
• Cash Cab pre-selects contestants.  Don’t get your hopes up on the street.
• Cabs are not nearly as expensive as I thought they would be.  A guide-book at the hotel said that you shouldn’t expect to pay more than $10 per way and I found that to be true.  It was only $10.50 (after tip) for our longest route.  Midtown to La Guardia airport was $35 (again, after tip) , but that’s the same as 2 people on the Super Shuttle which is shared and much longer of a commute after picking everyone up, dropping everyone off.
• The TKTS discount ticket booth in the South Street Seaport was not bad at all.  Less than an hour wait and that was with only 1 person working behind the counter.  You save at least 40% on theatre tickets which can be a huge savings.  We had been saving for this trip for a while, but even so, the $75 splurge would have been a heavy punch if we paid full price.  By the way, we saw La Cage with Kelsey Grammer and it was hilarious!

I have had such a fantastic time.  I fell in love with the views at night of the Chrysler Building, the rocks in Central Park, the $2 hot chocolates served up everywhere, and the restaurants on every corner.  Nothing compares to being at John Lennon’s memorial in Central Park on his 30th anniversary of death, singing his songs along with hundreds of other fans of all ages and nationalities.  I had a man in his fifties to my right who was there by himself, reminiscing about where he was 30 years ago and what happened.  Then I had a 20-something year old Asian guy on my left who was singing loud and proud “Arr you need is Rove!”.  It was all too great not to stay and absorb the atmosphere.  We must have been there at least an hour, and I loved every single minute of it.  It was something that was definitely not planned before the trip but man oh man were we in the right place at the right time.

To add to the Beatle Mania, Paul McCartney was in the city all week, too!  We never saw him when we were walking around, but that’s not to say I wasn’t looking.  Instead I was haunted by his presence – He was on Jimmy Fallon one night and Saturday Night Live later in the week.  So close, yet so far…

I wish I could bottle the experiences of New York and bring them home with me.  It is a bittersweet time right now because I leave this afternoon and head back home.  Home, where I have a dog and a two bedroom apartment that does not fit into a 50 square foot space.  Home is where it’s quiet and I am not woken up in the night by cars or sanitation workers.  Home is nice, but so different from this island I’m on right now.

Aaron and I have been weighing the pros and cons of moving to this area.  The theme that we gather from friends who live here is that it is great, but you have to bust your tail to work around the clock if you’re going to make it.  A friend of mine from high school said he’s lived here five years and still hasn’t seen the top of the Empire State Building or The Top of the Rock.  He hasn’t seen Ground Zero (although Aaron and I went but weren’t able to see much-9 years later).  On the other hand, opportunities are what you make of them so I believe it wouldn’t be so restrictive, but the point is there is a lot more free time in North Carolina, and we can come up to visit and spend our days seeing and doing all things NY.  Not working.  On the plus side, they do make a lot more money here, so the cost of living would be more balanced than I originally thought.

We’ll see.  I love living in Carrboro, but I might want to change it up a bit.

Christmas music just came on the radio here in our tiny shoebox of a room, which means it is 8:30am and time to get up to start the day.  I’m glad that I a got a moment to write while we’re still here.  It has been go go go! the rest of the time.

I hope I can bring this great christmas spirit back with me, because it’s really great here in New York.  Everything is decorated and festive!

Time now to pack my things, schedule our airport shuttle, and then wander around in our remaining hours here.  Until next time New York…

But fate intervened and we didn’t leave that night

To follow-up where I left off.  We arrived at the airport and soon discovered that our flight was cancelled.  Fortunately we purchased  travel insurance so expenses for our hotel, meals, and transportation costs were reimbursed until our flight actually took off.  Back at The Pod Hotel, we had a much quieter room on the 6th floor with a better view.  The staff was great when I called them from the airport to check on availability and offered us a reduced rate of $75.  Who says New Yorkers are all rude?  That felt like a genuine dose of Southern Hospitality if you ask me.

So of all the things to happen, we got an extra night in Manhattan for free!  How did we use it, you ask?  We went to the New York Public Library to wander around a bit.  We even took our picture in front of their huge Christmas tree, which now looks like we were in The White House.  Nope, just a fantastic library!

It was pouring rain so I bought an umbrella (my coat was starting to smell like mildew) and we found an Irish Pub to eat in.  The bartender, an Irishman named Andrew, was so nice and charismatic so we had no reason to go anywhere else after our meal.  I do love a good Happy Hour – such an exotic concept for North Carolinians since it is banned in our state.  Anyways, we made friends who live in the area and one who are offered to give us a free meal at his restaurant, Brenden’s, next time we’re in town.

The only thing left to do after saying goodbye to our pub friends was to eat a slice of pizza on our walk home and take as many pictures while we/I marveled at the Chrysler Building one more time along Lexington Ave.

So really this time, until we meet again New York…

How To Be Alone

This is the most beautiful and inspiring video I have seen in a long time.  Please watch, absorb, and be changed for the better.

From my own experiences, I have realized such amazing things about myself as I am truly ok being alone.  At my core, when the phone isn’t ringing and friends and family are miles away – I had better be comfortable with myself.

The most important lesson that I have learned through my alone time self-reflection, and I wish I could pass along to everyone, is that I can do anything.  My Dad always told me this growing up:

Me:  “You mean I can be in the circus?”

Dad:  “If that’s what you want to do, you certainly can”.

Me: “You mean I can be an astronaut?”

Dad:  “Sure, if that’s what you want to do and you work hard at it, you can be anything you want to be.  Just be the best Abby that you can be.”  (He still tells me that last part regularly)

Thanks Dad!  It just took me a while to realize the full extent of what you meant.

Let’s do this!  Where have you been alone that was relatively unconventional, and made you very proud of yourself?  If you can’t think of a time, maybe this is a good opportunity to challenge yourself.

For me, it’s a great reminder of how I reconnect with myself.  No phones, computers, iPads, etc.  Just me and my surroundings, head on.  You can expect me to seize more opportunities for alone time in the near future (don’t worry Boyfriend-this is not a blog breakup).  I will report back.  I hope you will, too.

Create yourself

“Life isn’t about finding yourself, life is about creating yourself”  -Unknown

I try to make this a personal goal and it really has changed my life drastically.  Who says you can’t be a person who backpacks through Europe, moves to a city just because you want to, or learns a foreign language?  Heck, you can even be a blogger (gasp!).  Go out and create the person you want to be!  No excuses for saying you want to do something and not even trying to make it happen.  This is something hugely important to my life and I challenge you to challenge yourself.

(And for my next trick, I’ll vanish and reappear as a motivational speaker…)

Yes, I too will be challenging myself more.  This blog is a huge challenge in itself.  I don’t know about you, but the idea of just putting it all out there is just plain scary.

This next one may seem like more of a reward than a challenge, but it’s out of my comfort zone and something new so give me a break.  Helping my personal growth and stuff.  Yeah.  So here we go-I just decided I’m going to meet Abby (not this one, that one) in Boston in May and meeting/staying with her friend from college.  Never been to Boston but why not?  Bam.  Done.  No telling what’s next, but I can’t wait to find out.  I officially declare her my soul-sister travel buddy.  Montgomery, Rome, Paris, London, Pittsburgh, Ikea, and next stop:  Boston.