New York, New York!

This blog entry should be called, "despite the fact I'm pretty, I am just a tiny speck in this grandiose world, seriously, I know, it's hard to believe."
On Christmas Eve I flew to New York for a 36 hour vacation extravaganza! Well, "extravaganza" may be an exaggeration... which I am known to do. Sue me. Anywhosies, I went to NYC for Thanksgiving in a similar manner, flew in, flew out, squeezed it in during my hectic work schedule and loved every second of it. So for Christmas I decided to do it again. The first trip really represented more than a trip to the city, it was the first time in a long time, maybe ever, that I didn't hold myself back, hindering my own happiness for no good reason. Or the habit of always "playing it safe." Aka, boring.  Holidays at the Country Manse are typically spent with a party of two. Myself, and a Bloody Mary. Why? Because I work a lot, I work retail, I am tired, and my family isn't around, and my friends have families of their own--blee blah bloo! So many excuses. So I decided to live a little and book a 36 hour trip to New York, flying home in time for the glorious Black Friday. I was so proud of myself.  Then I decided if I could make that happen, why not fulfill an even bigger dream-- Christmas in New York!  For as many years as I can remember, I have said that I would know I really made it in life, if I could spend Christmas in New York. Part of this dream was the actual thrill of the city, but it was more about me not being a martyr. I assumed because I work retail, and likely always will, there was no way I could ever do what I really wanted. Big fat lie. Anything is possible. Sounds cliche. But most things truly are possible, you just have to figure out how to do it, and then actually do it. And I did. I must admit, a few days before my Christmas trip I was wondering if it was a mistake because I was feeling much more tired, and slightly overwhelmed at the end of the holiday season in comparison to the beginning of the season when I went over Thanksgiving. But by the time I arrived at the airport in Detroit I had full energy, and by the time I reached New York, I had not one bit of regret.
My Christmas trip was a little different in the fact my sister had to work, so I was in the city alone. I did not have keys to her apartment, so once I left, I was gone for the day. I knew my sister would be really disappointed in me if I just spent the day at her place, or even just in her neighborhood. And really, I would have been disappointed in myself too. But, I have never been in the city alone either. So I made my way to the subway, bought a metro card, hopped on with no real plan. Except to remember exactly the way I was going, so I could back track in the exact way home. I got off on the 34th street stop because Miracle on 34th Street seemed like a place to be on Christmas. I cannot tell you how exhilarating it was to wander the city and take it all in. There is so much to look at and nothing looks like anything I typically see. No one knows who you are, and no one really cares. Coming off a work season of having to be up all the time, and being what sometimes feels like everything to everyone, it felt so good to be quiet and anonymous with no one demanding anything from me. No one looked to me for a solution, a reaction, a need--no one looked at me. I would stop into Starbucks to get warm during my journey, and I loved that too. It felt familiar, because it's Starbucks for shit's sake, but the people were all so different. Half the people spoke in another language, half looked wealthier than I could imagine, and still many looked like eccentric bums. You could only imagine every one's story, and that was fascinating to me.
It's easy to be bored by your surroundings, but it is far worse to get bored by thought. For me, I needed to see other people, who even though I was not interacting with, had different lives, different stories. The typical scenario I deal with at work is angry unhappy woman, with an angry unhappy life, no ambition, no drive, hasn't really lived outside of their own angry selfish life. Sounds harsh, and it doesn't represent everyone, but it's a big reality of what I deal with daily. Sometimes you want to engage with something beyond, "she stole my sale, you go fix it." Or, "I call in once a week but it's your fault you've cut my hours and I don't have enough money to eat." And don't get me wrong, New York is not Utopia, but that's just it, there are far worse things happening everywhere, and we really are just a tiny speck in this world. And I think that's a reminder that everyone could benefit from.
So in conclusion of my serious boring post, what's really the point? For me, it's realizing that you really can have it all. You just have to define what that means to you, and actually take a step to make it happen. You cannot be afraid to be who you are, and know you are the driver and control where you go. Negativity needs to be put on the conveyor belt and let go. People matter above all, and you should never let yourself get too busy where you ignore the good people. To be better, you must do better. And you should always try to do better. Life is too short to not live the life you truly want.

I'm busy.

I'm not too busy for facials and crime shows.

Wow, you must be pretty pulverized that I haven't updated in awhile. You probably thought I quit my blog. Well, this isn't the clarinet, or volleyball or a relationship. You don't just throw in the towel because you're bored and too pretty--oh no. I have just been a little" busy." Usually I get annoyed when people talk about how busy they are, because most people are. In fact, everyone in my life, except maybe my diva misfits who stand around doing nothing all ding blasted day, are quite busy. But that's another blog, another day.  More often than not we exaggerate how busy we are to sound superior or get out of doing things we don't want to do. Like attend  baby showers or my dad's wedding. Things we really want to do, we make time for no matter how busy or tired we are. For example, this time a year I get one day off a week (Wednesdays if you are nosy) and I typically work one of two shifts, either 8am-6pm or 2pm-10pm. If you factor in my drive time, and time it takes to close the store, I work either a 7am-7pm or a 1pm-11:30pm, 6 days a week. I am not complaining because I am not a lazy asshole, and I like to be busy. So anywhosies, we could say by most standards, this schedule alone could be categorized as "busy." But there are things I will always make time for. Like true crime documentaries on my laptop. I usually start and end my day this way, sitting on the couch like a psychopath. Beauty treatments. I perform an elaborate facial 3-4 times a week with a substantial amount of time watching the facial in a mirror. This does not include my daily regimen or body treatments. I put lotion on my skin like the girl in the well who is about to get the hose again. I don't care if I am running late or not. Dry skin is sick, and one step away from not shaving your legs and growing a mustache. I also always make time for necessary household chores. This include making the bed daily. I think the day you stop making your bed is the day you should be killed. I mean, what's next, eating Arby's in the bathtub? Obviously.



I'm too busy to do the back of my hair.

Ok, so we all have the non-negotiables of what we will never be too busy for. But what about the things we let slide when our schedules fill up?  Easy. Baby showers, wedding showers, births, weddings. Combing the back of my hair. Wearing pants. Five minute work outs on the treadmill.  Eating. Anything hard. Anything boring. Things requiring an attention span...hey I gotta go, I'm busy.