This article about how New Yorker’s decided that they actually hate this city had me cracking up during my subway ride. For me it’s the roaches, piss smell, sidewalk hogs, and lack of crosstown subways that would eventually make me snap. Thank You, The Onion, for making me smile for the first time in days. Imagine if we actually came to our senses and left this city.

Yesterday may have been the best day I’ve had this summer. I have been feeling really down lately and decided last minute that I needed to get out of town. I called up Romy, who lives at the shore, and told her I’m coming over. She picked me up from the train station, we picked up some wraps from our favorite wrap place, Ocean Cafe, and headed straight to the beach. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect afternoon. There was not a cloud in the sky and we sat on the beach eating our wraps, drinking fresh juice iced tea, and catching up on gossip (which helped take my mind off things).

Around 5 PM we decided to head back to the house and shower up and that’s when we learned that the power had gone out in the entire town and the surrounding towns. We snacked on a small bowl of cheerios (the simplest things are so yummy when you’re hungry) and then showered. Since the power was still out we had to shower by candle light which made me wonder why I don’t do that more often. It’s so relaxing!

After we were all cleaned up we headed to the Tiki Bar to wait out the power outage since Romy needed to stop by the office to finish up some work. As we drove through the town all the street lights were out and it seemed all restaurants and businesses were closed. Thankfully, the Tiki Bar which was part of the Ocean Place Hotel was the only place still open, running on a generator. Halleluja!! We rushed to the bar for a frozen pina colada. Mmmmm!

As we continued to wait for power we realized that we also weren’t getting any cell phone signal. We were really starting to feel like we were stranded on survivor island. Two guys approached us and asked if they could join us. They seemed harmless enough (oh little did we know!) so we told them to pull up a chair. This is where the night took a turn from a relaxing “dinner and drinks” night to the debauchery that ensued.

Romy was a little concerned about how we were going to get dinner in since every restaurant was closed. I told her that I thought dinner and getting back to work was gonna be a lost cause. Let’s just drink and enjoy the moment. And this was when we starting downing berry mojitos like they were waters. Our group just kept growing, running into high school friends, and friends of friends.

The night had a funny summer camp feel to it…bored kids huddled around under the stars with nothing to do but cause some trouble. I love nights like that that are totally unplanned and you end up hanging out with strangers and laughing the entire time.

Can summer not end so that I can have more perfect days like this?

(PS- I’m obsessed with these hipstamatic pics. I want an iphone just for this ap).

I needed to get out of town so I’m headed to the beach today. Wish it were somewhere that required a passport…

Be back soon.

I was watching Seinfeld last night and it was the episode where George tells Jerry that he’s got a date. Jerry asked George how Susan, a woman who he is seeing, would feel about that. George, oblivious, asked why she would care. Jerry explains that he’s been seeing her for a while and it might not be ok to be seeing other people. George still seems perplexed by this so Jerry says, “Well let me ask you something, how often do you guys talk? On the regular?”

“No,” George answers, “just about 5 times a week.”

“And are Saturday plans implied or do you have to ask?”

“Well, um, uh, they’re implied,” George admits.

“And what about your medicine cabinet? Is there anything of hers in there?”

“Well, just some moisturizer and stuff,” George answers.

“And what about Tampax, George? Is there Tampax in your apartment?” Jerry asks.

“Well, uh,….. yeah,” George grudgingly answers.

“Then it’s official,” Jerry says, “she’s your girlfriend.”

I was skyping with my sister last night and we were pondering the same topic. When does a guy become your boyfriend? Officially, we mean. Is it implied after a certain amount of time? And how long? Or does there have to be a “talk?” I was seeing a guy for 5 months and never once was it assumed that he was my boyfriend, which was a good thing, since a girlfriend was the last thing he wanted. If I’m going by Jerry Seinfeld’s definition of a girlfriend, well, I haven’t talked to someone on the regular, had implied weekend dates, or left any of my personal belongings at someone’s apartment in 4 years.

(Leaving stuff on purpose to have an excuse to call them doesn’t count. That confirms you’re not a girlfriend).

I still had no idea what to expect when this was explained to me but then the first performer got on stage and sang Billionaire by Travie McCoy in a sultry burlesque style. I almost fell out of my chair laughing, it was genius. I’ve always been a closet not so closet pop music fan and I realize I love it for the same reason that most people hate it; The really stupid lyrics. It’s just dumb and that’s why I like it. So taken out of it’s original context, sung by certain pop stars who can say anything on a track and it would sell, it just makes the lyrics sound even more ridiculous. I had to laugh at myself when I realized I had just downloaded into my iTunes the first 3 songs they performed; Billionaire, Magic, and Cooler Than Me.

After the disappointing weekend I had this was exactly the pick me up that I needed. A random night at a random event to remind me just how much I love this city and all that it has to offer. And to top it off I ran into a few editors from Time Out including the managing editor who had first interviewed and hired me. And during the show the cast kept referencing the Scissor Sisters who I love and will always hold dear to me as that was the first photo shoot I worked on at my first job, after graduating college. Then later in the show another cast member performed a song by Ludacris who I also have memories of at a free concert at Rutgers and then later, again at a photo shoot, after I had produced the shoot I was asked to audition to be the bootilicious girl on the back of his motorcycle. (I didn’t end up getting it because I didn’t have the amount of junk they wanted in my trunk). But anyway, I don’t know why this made me happy, seeing all of these little pieces of the starts of my career, it somehow reminded me that I am here for a reason and am going to fight for what I want. So thank you, my friend, random nights, Joe’s Pub, stupid pop music, and a lot of wine, for giving me the pick me up that I needed to put this weekend behind me and continue to move forward.

I didn’t mention earlier in my post but my visitor last week was S from London. I had met S almost exactly a year ago in Bangkok and I was completely smitten. I thought, after all the guys I’ve dated, I had finally figured it out. He was the first half Thai guy I’ve ever dated who also spoke the language and has grown up in Bangkok but lives abroad. He was always a true gentleman with me and kept in touch throughout the year, calling to tell me he misses me and to remind me how beautiful I am (in his British accent that didn’t hurt).

A few weeks back he called me to tell me he booked his ticket to New York. I was filled with nerves. I had fantasized about us meeting again after all this time and couldn’t believe he was really coming. But the timing couldn’t have been any worse. I had just started seeing someone. I haven’t been seeing him long enough to rule out everyone else completely but I also knew that I was going to have a hard time not thinking about him. I fretted about S’s visit as the day got closer. What if it’s awkward? What if I don’t like him? What if I do like him? I didn’t have a choice but to just wait and see.

From the moment he arrived it was nothing that I had expected. He came with a friend (I had thought he was coming alone) and already had a dinner party planned for the evening. A year ago I imagined waiting for him at the airport, running into his arms when I spotted him, and rushing back to the hotel to order room service and just catch up in private. So dinner with 9 other people was not how I imagined our first night. I was nervous to see him and uncomfortable around all of these strangers. To make it worse, I couldn’t stand the strangers. They were the spoiled, rich kids that I avoid here in New York. Over dinner I learned that the things he wanted to do in New York was nothing that I would’ve taken him to.

As the night went on, and the more drinks I had, I started to see everything so much more clear. He was not the guy I wanted to be with. We had fit together so well in Thailand, someone who understood what it was like to never feel at home in your own country or anywhere else. But here in New York, we couldn’t be more different. I didn’t want to waste anymore of the evening being somewhere I didn’t want to be. He apologized for the night. I told him there’s nothing to be sorry about, this just isn’t meant to be, and took off in a taxi.

I met up with him again over the weekend, this time for dinner, just the two of us. I thought, perhaps the fact that I couldn’t stand his friends made me judge him in a harsher light. Over a sushi dinner, I saw again the guy that I had fallen for a year ago, kind and attentive. I thought, could this work? He said, babe, order anything you want. I thought, maybe it could. I made a joke and he didn’t smile. I thought, no, he doesn’t fit.

We went out for drinks with his friends after dinner. Everyone was tired from a big night out, the night before. S was clearly irritable, wanting to be at a more upbeat bar. He sulked in his chair. I thought, wouldn’t he be happy just to be anywhere with me?

I didn’t see him the following night, telling him to just go have fun with his friends. I met him at his hotel on Sunday to say goodbye. I was suddenly sad to see him go. I’ve never been good at goodbyes, especially when letting go is best. I felt so down for the rest of the day. I felt guilty for not spending more time with him. I was upset that the trip wasn’t how I pictured it. I imagined showing him everything I love about this city, everything I’ve wanted to do with someone I care about, not meeting him out at clubs. I was sad that he wasn’t the guy I remembered, the one that was always on the back of my mind. I thought, it would’ve been better if he hadn’t come, if he could just be the fond memory I could keep forever.

But maybe this is how it was supposed to pan out. I continued to date jerks in the past few months, and S was always there every time I was heartbroken, reminding me that I deserved better. Each time, I would be able to move on knowing that better does exist. So perhaps I needed to see him in person to see this clearer. Better does exist. It’s just not S.

I am so worn out from the weekend. If it could be summed up with one word it would be disappointment. I want to turn off my phone and stay in bed with a book for a week. My body aches, my heart hurts…

I need a vacation from this town, from myself…

Isn’t it the cutest?

Wow- I haven’t posted in a week! Where have I been? Last week I went to dinner at the new Five Napkin Burger in Astoria. I had the original burger and the tuna burger. So yummy! Then I went to see The Other Guys starring Will Farrell and Mark Walberg, two of my faves. I had the clutch my stomach in laughter throughout the entire movie. On Friday I went on the best bike ride of the summer. I rode to Long Island City to Gantry Park. I had first read about this park from Kate’s blog and had to see it for myself. I rode during sunset, walked along the pier, and laid on a hammock under a crescent moon with a view of the Manhattan skyline. It. Was. Perfect. I stopped by LIC Bar for a glass of wine after, sitting in the outdoor courtyard under a willow tree, I felt like I was in Savannah. I went to a random house party on Saturday night and then brunch at Sparrow Sunday afternoon. Early evening Sunday I took the train to Hoboken to meet Romy and hitch a ride back to the shore with her. We met up with some friends for dinner at Stella Marina in Asbury Park and drinks overlooking the ocean at the Watermark. We finished off the night with beers at The Cottage. Romy and I were so hungover the following morning that we had lunch at Ocean Cafe and then lounged on the couch watching Valentine’s Day. We figured, how bad can a rom com with an all star cast be? Very. Very. Very. Bad. I do not recommend watching this ever.

I got back into Astoria early evening yesterday and went to Afghan Kebab House for dinner (in honor of my brother). It was my first time having Afghani food and it was delicious! Lamb kebabs are my new fave. That brings me to today where I’m meeting my friend Tanya for martinis at Les Halles.

Phewf! So that’s where I’ve been the past week and weekend. I’ve got a friend from London visiting for the next five days so I’m sure it’ll be another week before the next post!

Hope everyone had a lovely weekend!

I finished reading Anne Lamott’s book, Bird by Bird – Some Intructions on Writing and Life, over the weekend. As a writer, it’s one of the most inspiring books I’ve read, next to Stephen King’s On Writing. Lamott covers everything, with wit and honesty, on the writing process from writer’s block to the jealousy we’re bound to feel when everyone else around us is getting published. I felt like she was writing specifically for me and helped me feel a little less crazy, or better, reassured me that all writer’s are crazy and I’ll fit right in with my “hideous conceit and low self esteem in equal measure.”

Lamott has so many gems in this book that I’ve practically underlined and earmarked every page. Whenever I tell people I’m writing a book I get a mixture of annoying responses and awe. More annoying than awe, but those that are impressed always say, “Wow, I wouldn’t know where to start.” The fact is, everyday when I sit down to write, I don’t know where to start. I loved this paragraph in her chapter titled, Shitty First Drafts:

Very few writers really know what they are doing until they’ve done it. Nor do they go about their business feeling dewy and thrilled. They do not type a few stiff warm-up sentences and then find themselves bounding along like huskies across the snow. One writer I know tells me that he sits down every morning and says to himself nicely, “It’s not like you don’t have a choice, because you do- you can either type or kill yourself.”

Or… rearrange your wardrobe, do some online shopping, break in your new shoes…