I Am Great.

This story has been sitting inside of me for almost a year now, it is time to tell it.

Last summer I was living in the Upper West Side, which is arguably the best place to live in all 5 boroughs. I was keeping my car in the city for a few weeks and thus began to ever present struggle of finding street parking every other day. I so far was finding a lot of luck, which I had continually said was bound to run out sooner or later. One night I left work around 10:30 and got home around 11 am. I had to be back at 8 am the next day and was already exhausted, and remembered I had to move my car (in the rain to make it that much sweeter). After circling a 10 block radius for about 30 minutes I was nearly in tears and was considering paying for overnight parking- when I see a spot.

I very unsuccessfully tried to parallel park (let me just say that I am a good parallel parker but in this particular night it was dark and rainy and the streetlight was causing and awful glare and my glasses were dirty and I was exhausted!) about 4 or 5 times, much to the dismay of other cars trying to get around me. A man in full traditional West African garb in his late 20s approaches me from the stoop where he had been watching me gives me hand motions to glide into the spot (see, New Yorkers are friendly!)

I get out of the car to check my handiwork and to thank him for his help. I sheepishly tell him that sometimes late at night I have a hard time seeing because my car is pretty big and I am so small. He turns his head so fast I thought he'd have whiplash, he looks me square in the face and says slowly with all of the power in the world-

"Never say that you are small. If you say that you are small, the universe will believe that you are small and that is all you will ever be."

He continues to look at me as I search my mind for any type of a response and completely fail.

He continues on-

"Say that you are great and the universe will believe that you are great."

A completely connected tangent:
I have a lot of confidence when it comes to certain things like... wearing red lipstick, karaoke, strutting in 6 inch high heels, yelling at people in my car safely behind plexiglass, knowing all of the lyrics to the Thong Song, navigating the NYC subway system.  However, I do NOT have a lot of confidence in other certain things like job hunting, networking, talking about what I do for a living, talking about what I want out of life... are you sensing a pattern?

I am small. I am, at 5'2, small. And I have for many years believed it, and so has the universe. Because when you are small, there isn't much to talk up. I once was at a friend's party where other guests I didn't know asked me about my job. I gave a flippant, self deprecating answer that I had barely registered as being such. My friend looked at me and said, "What are you talking about? You are someone's boss. You work really hard. You are really dedicated. You do a great job."
I had no words.

So, back to the story.

I look at this man through rain covered glasses and I guess find some words to respond. I then look at my car and realize that I had parked in a no parking zone and would have to move...again. I thanked him for his efforts but explained that I had to leave. He challenged me to believe in myself, believe that the universe will take care of me and to leave me car there and trust. I looked at him square in the face and explained that I am a New Yorker and I don't put my trust in much, especially when it comes to my car and a $200 towing fee. I got in the car and started circling again. I pulled up the street that I lived on and whispered as softly as I could,

"I am great."

And there was a spot. Right there. Within eyesight of my building.
I said it once more, still barely audible and parked perfectly.

I am small. But I am great. I am great. I am great.
You are great. I am great. You are great. I am great.

January.

January has a history of ranging from just unfriendly to incredibly cruel in its treatments towards me.

I spent some time researching in my brain every January I can recall and these are the results:

2003 (13) A very odd, dream-like memory of standing on the snow (when the snow has hardened and if you step really softly you sort of glide on top of it), and I was listening to this song on my walkman and experiencing listlessness. As more well read adult, It reminds me of Cecelia from The Virgin Suicides when the doctor asks her why she'd try to kill herself and she replies that he obviously has never been a 13 year old girl.

2004 apparently was either so awful that I blocked it out or so lame my brain felt no need to catalog it.

2005 (15) We were remodeling our kitchen and the house was in such disarray so I spent as much time in my room as possible. I spent an entire Saturday eating sourdough pretzel nuggets and reading Little Women and wishing that I was Jo. Or maybe that I was Mamie. Not really wishing to be Amy, but still considering being Amy because being anyone other than me would've been fantastic.

2006 (16) I kissed a boy for the very very first time and though that it meant that he liked me and apparently it didn't and that was just all too much.

2007 (17) was actually magic. I thought January was repenting for its ways. Lies.

2008 (18) In the midst an emotionally abusive 6 month "relationship", whilst watching The Princess Bride, I realized (as he took my hand and told me he loved me), that he was awful and gross and all sorts of bad words and I told him to go away now and I mean it!
(Anybody want a peanut?)
I guess in the retrospect, this was a good January, but it felt very sad during the time.

2009 (19) I had just returned home from studying abroad and was all types of confused about life. I wasn't working and school wouldn't start until a week or two into February and every day was just a void without sunshine and hope.

2010 (20) I thought someone I loved didn't love me.

2011 (21) Someone I loved definitely didn't love me.

2012 (22)  My phone broke. The year started and about 15 minutes later someone spilled their drink on my phone. The universe was trying to tell me something.

2013 (23) Would've been a redeemable January, except my dog died. In fact, I believe it was exactly 2 years ago today. I took a bereavement day and wept until my eyes wouldn't open.

2014 (24) I was unemployed. With about $50 to my name. And I was very cold. Very sad and very, very cold.

2015 (25) This should've been a good January. There was no reason it wouldn't be a good January. I live in a cool city, I can afford to take cabs and don't have to face the impossible cold, I have a job and friends.
And then, I found myself suddenly single. And then, a few hours later after finding myself suddenly single, I found myself quoting Sally for the first time in my life in a non- ironic way.

Sally: He just met her... She's supposed to be his transitional person, she's not supposed to be the ONE. All this time I thought he didn't want to get married. But, the truth is, he didn't want to marry me. He didn't love me.
Harry: If you could take him back now, would you?
Sally: No. But why didn't he want to marry me? What's the matter with me?
Harry: Nothing.
Sally: I'm difficult.
Harry: You're challenging.
Sally: I'm too structured, I'm completely closed off.
Harry: But in a good way.
Sally: No, no, no, I drove him away. AND, I'm gonna be forty.
Harry: When?
Sally: Someday.
Harry: In eight years.
Sally: But it's there. It's just sitting there, like some big dead end.

I don't fight January anymore. It is useless. I don't know what I ever did to it. I don't know if my planets aren't aligned or if it is just all in my head or if everyone's life is like this and I am just dramatic and easily susceptible to S.A.D. and ex-boyfriends getting engaged. Who knows. Here's to February.

It's My Party & I'll Cry If I Want To

Last year, almost an exact year ago I wrote about a sad love story between a friend and I. I consider it a love story because I really loved her, she was a soul person to me, and so when we went our separate ways it was just as heartbreaking as if it had been a romantic relationship ending. It is important to note this because of the intense contrast that I have had in this year compared to last.
***

The cake of my dreams <3<3

I, like maybe a lot of other people, always assume no one actually likes me. I have probably written this before. When surrounded by friends and part of "the group", I am just waiting for someone to pop out of a corner and tell me that I am being punk'd, that it isn't real.

I turned 25 last Tuesday. It is a big deal because 25 is kind of important, but also because birthdays are special to me. From birth to 18 my mother made sure that my birthday was special - not extravagant, but special. 19-24 were up to me and I basically did an awful job and spent most of those birthdays crying alone in a corner, specifically when I turned 20.

It is embarrassing for me to ask to be the center of attention. I love it, I crave it- but not if I've asked for it. Because if I ask for it, that means that I have a 50/50 chance of it not happening. That means that there is an opportunity for me to create my own humiliation in case someone/the world/society doesn't give me the attention I ask for. Asking people to come to me, to celebrate me, to party simply because I was born, is embarrassing. So, around my birthday each year I debate on which is worse - re-living my 20th birthday eating stale cereal and doing chemistry homework alone, or biting the bullet and hoping that at least half of the people I invite say yes.

New York Friends!!

This year, I didn't want to be my usual lame self. I wanted to be fun! I was about to officially become an adult and that meant that I had to get it together and throw myself a party. So in mid October I invited about a dozen friends to come join me. And they all said no, aside from one. I was aghast. I was filled with humiliation. I did have a handful of local NYC friends who agreed to join me, but I was so mortified that everyone from out of town had said no that I didn't have it in me to make it work with those who were going to join. So I didn't make a plan, and then it was about 5 days until November and I still had no plan. I continually told the lone friend who was joining me not to come because I wasn't going to be fun and I didn't know what to do.

I can only describe my emotions in GIF/video, pop culture form, so please, let this do the talking. It was my nightmare.

Looking Fabulous, duh.

So I start calling my mom every 3 or 4 days, almost in tears about how unloved I am. About how much I have done for these people over the years and how I mean nothing to them. (As I write this out, I see how dramatic it is, but, this is my life people.) I lament about how no one should ever have to throw themselves parties because it is humiliating if no one comes to the party you personally asked people to attend and why am I such a loser?! This leads into conversations about how much of a total screw-up I am. How I am almost 25 and have nothing going for me, how I can't even manage to keep my room clean and I can't get a dog yet. I have a tendency to spiral out of control, if you couldn't tell.

Birthday Biddies 

And then my mom came to town, as she had been planning for the last month or so. She showed up to my job looking all sorts of glamorous and rushed me into a fitting room. I knew she had something planned and I had been assuming it was to go see Les Mis. She makes me put on a gold and purple sparkly dress complete with full accessories and then we rush home so I can change me shoes. I mention that it is in the wrong direction and she says it is fine, that we have time. So after a quick shoe change she hustles me into a taxi and again heads into the wrong direction. Maybe I was just exhausted (I was) or maybe I am ditzy (I am) or maybe I have abnormally low self esteem (I do) but I still assumed we were going to see Les Mis. We pull up to a family friend's bar, and I silently chide my mother for sending a text message while sitting in the stopped taxi. (Proper etiquette: You pay your cabbie, get out of the car, then send your text, but I digress.)

A (almost totally inclusive) group shot

We step into the bar, I notice a bunch of people wearing masks and the only thought that crosses my mind is that having a party the day after Halloween is kind of dumb. So I pull out a chair to sit down because my mom is just standing in the doorway and I am wearing 5 inch heels after all.

And they yelled surprise.
And I looked around, just for a moment, because I didn't know who the surprise was for.

And it was for me.
And it was everyone that I thought didn't love me.
And my mom, my poor mom that I had abused via my own self-pity and hate for two weeks, had planned the whole thing.

I kind of wanted to write thank you notes, but that is a very grown-up thing to do, and I am not very grown-up yet. So this is a big thank you note.

Thank you to my family, my brother, my dad (although I still wish you had brought the dog along), my grandmother, and my mom. Everything is impossible without you.

with my family!

And thank you to my friends! To the ones who traveled not so far (although I do know what it is to travel across boroughs on a Saturday night, ugh.) Thank you Ariel & Di (and your men!), Andrew, Joanna, Lisa, Kara, and Vickie. And to the friends who did travel quite far- Bryanna, Paige & Flynn, Kristy & Tim, Kelsey, Kate, Sarah, Juleeann.



Thank you for starting my 25th year of life without tears, without whining. With joy and with friendship and with lots and lots of sparkles!

(Also - shout out to the people who couldn't make it. I love you too! There's always my 30th ;) )