Monday, December 31, 2012

A Letter to 2012

Dear 2012,

What can I say that hasn't already been said?  You have dropped more knowledge on me than I knew what to do with.  You have filled me with so many ups and downs, ins and outs, overs and unders - you name it, you threw it at me.  While one might think that I should be angry with you and despise your very existence, I am here to tell you that I could not be more thankful. 

I have learned how strong I can be.  
I have learned to put myself out there, and be more fearless.  
I have had my heart broken, and learned how quickly I can repair myself.  
I have improved who I am, and how I feel.  
I have learned not to give too much of myself, period.
I have challenged myself in ways I never thought I would be able to, and come out successful. 
I have made new friendships, and rekindled old ones. 
I have learned that the people who matter the most make themselves known, just by being there for you - quality over quantity could not be more on point.  
I have learned that being a good friend can sometimes be the most important role.  
I have learned that I need to let go more often - of myself, of people, of past experiences - in order to move on and make room for new experiences, and new people.  
I have learned that a heart has no end to how much it can hold.  
I have learned that knowing what you need and needing what you want are two very different things.  
I have learned that standing up for yourself and who you are is the most empowering thing you can do for yourself.
I have learned that you can not lose yourself in any one person or any one thing - keeping yourself balanced is key.
I have realized how important fun is, and sometimes, you have to remind yourself that having it is so important.
I have realized that I deserve to be happy.  I deserve love, hope, friends, family, and all the good things in the world (and you do, too!).
I have learned that every experience is a learning experience.
And I will continue to believe that things happen for a reason - even if you can't see it at the time, even if it sucks more than anything, even if it feels like the end of the world and maybe the worst thing that could ever happen to you?  It will all work out in the end, and you will come out a stronger person on the other side.  It's amazing what happens when you least expect it, and what incredible things can come out of those you once thought might destroy you.

2013, I'm not sure what you have in store for me - but I know that no matter what it is, I will embrace it with open arms.  I will head into the new year with an adventurous spirit and positive attitude.  With so many plans in the works, it's hard not to be excited!

To all of you out there who have kept up with me here, thank you.  Thank you for staying active and reading, reaching out, and being you.  I look forward to sharing a new year full of stories, adventures, and long trains of thought that inevitably end up on this cute little site here.  Have a healthy, safe, and most importantly happy New Year!

-Hilary

Thursday, December 27, 2012

It's All So Magical

“Happiness depends more on the inward disposition of mind than on outward circumstances.” - Benjamin Franklin

I spent a majority of my life wanting, yearning, dreaming of living in  
New York City.  

When I was 3 years old, I saw The Rockettes on TV performing at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade.  When I was 4, my mom enrolled me in my first tap class so that I could, one day, become one of those professional long-legged chorus-line kickers.  When I was 5, my parents took me to my very first Broadway show (to be fair, I saw two that year, and I can't remember which one was first - Peter Pan or The Secret Garden - either way, lucky kid, right?).  I very clearly remember that while we were standing in line to get in to the theatre, a homeless man was walking up and down the mass begging for food.  I insisted we give him money, and my father gave me a $5 bill to hand to him, which I did, with the firm grasp of my mothers hand on mine.  I don't remember what we ate for dinner, I don't remember the train ride, and I don't remember much of the shows (except the flying and the garden set and the cast of The Secret Garden saying a teary eyed "farewell since it was their closing performance).  Yet I can still picture the cool breath in the air, the lights of Time Square, and being in awe of the enormity and magnitude that was this giant place, this cement playground, this city of lights.

When I was 6, my mom took me in to the city for a special Mommy-Daughter day.  This may have been around the time she was pregnant with my brother (as I distinctly remember purchasing a pregnant Barbie Doll, where you could take a baby out of her springy-plastic belly - so strange).  We went ice skating at Rockefeller Center, had hot chocolate and soup at the Plaza, then went and played in F.A.O. Schwartz (where knocked-up Barbie was obtained), the coolest toy store at the time.  I remember riding home with my mom on the train, opening some of my new toys, and feeling really lucky to have gotten to spend an entire day with just my mom.  It was one of my favorite days of all time.

When I was 16, my Dad got remarried and moved to New York City - 97th and Broadway, to be exact.  My only thoughts at the time?  How stinkin' cool!  Now, I'd be spending every other weekend in the greatest city in the world.  Every weekend became an adventure.  My Dad and Step mom would take us to museums, parks, restaurants with foods I had never tried, street fairs, shows, and flea markets.  We spent one summer searching for all the NYC Cows (check it out: cowparade), and found most of them.  It was a massive culture shock, and one of the best things to ever happen to me.  It was also when I decided that no matter what, New York was where I needed to be.


It took me until I was 24 to get there - it took college, money, strength, support of my wonderful friends and family, a new job, and finally building up my own courage to pack my life into a U-Haul, cram 8 friends (and one mini Caraline jumping on my mattress) into a minivan, and drive the 60.3 miles to my new home in Brooklyn.  It was probably one of the toughest, greatest things I have ever done, and my life will be forever changed because of it.
("So I crammed my life in a U-Haul, to find my part of it all")
There are moments, late at night (or morning 2am-ers, in this case) that thoughts start racing.  The air is still and calm, my breath slowly releasing in the cool winters night, the bass line blasting through the wall of the apartment next door - it is now that I am able to take a step back and realize:
 I'm here.
Sometimes I simply can't believe it.

I look at my life - at what it is now, and what it was before - and I can't always understand how it came to be - how I got here.  I have grown so much, transitioned so many times, and learned so many lessons, good and bad.  I know I am a constant work in progress, and I am only now becoming the adult I had always envisioned myself being.  I am finally focused on what I am and what I want to be - what I'm capable of - versus what I should be,what I always imagined I was supposed to be, or what people expected of me.  I now understand none of that matters.  Was matters is being me, for better or for worse.  And at the end of the day, I think it's important that I remember this point:

I am really proud of myself.  

I don't say this to toot my own horn.  I don't say this to pat myself on the back, or imply that I've done something no one else has ever done.  I say this to remind myself that I have come a really long way since that scared little 17 year old girl, frightened of leaving home for college, or the teenager, scared to ever speak up for herself or fight for herself, all the way down to the 8 year old, who didn't even want to walk to school alone.  I spent years dreaming of living in what I believed to be the big, scary, magical New York City.  Now that I live here, I can assure you: it is, in fact, magical.  As far as the big and scary part?  Well sure.  That's there too.  But it's a really fun adventure.


Monday, December 24, 2012

A Time Holder

At this very moment in time, no truer words have been spoken.

Many apologies for the lack of postings - things have been a little hectic over here on my end.  Fear not, loyal followers!  Things should be returning to normal soon.  Thanks for hanging on :)

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Thankful Turkey

What are you thankful for?

 Having an outlet, such as this, to be able to share and express my thoughts, my adventures, my stories, my opinions and choices, and encourage others to do the same.

Having a few days off to rest, recuperate, and recharge my batteries.

Having a plethora of friends who embrace and accept me for who I am - not with judgement or expectation, but with love and joy and open arms always.  They challenge me, teach me, and help shape who I am becoming.  I am very lucky.


Having the opportunity to take time for myself.

Frothy hot chocolates.


24-hour Bagelsmith - for those 4am sandwiches and freshly cooked bagels, literally, whenever I want them.

Remembering what a wise man named Fred once said (and continued to say) throughout college, and the ability to now truly understand it years later, and appreciate how far and wise beyond his years he really was.  "The universe will provide".  Thanks, Fred.

Rediscovering my passion and my heart.

Bobby pins and Mascara.

Grilled cheeses, plates full of pickles, and late night diner trips with incredible people.

This incredible city, and my ability to fall back in love with the fickle mistress, time after time after time.

My absolutely fabulous roommates - without whom, I would ever have discovered the laundry room mystery note, Adventures in Babysitting, or how to catch fruit flies in a mug.


Hummus veggie sandwishes and watermelon mozzarella salads.

My crazy little kitty, Oliver.  He may be nuts, but he has provided me with more love and comfort than I can ever truly express.


Fire pits, dance classes, karaoke, movies, and road trips with friends.

Hershey's Hugs.  Like Kisses, only more delicious.


The occasional manicure and mental health day.

The ocean.  Primarily for sushi and seahorses, but also for swimming.  Not so much for sharks.


I may have a love/hate relationship with social media, but if it weren't for Facebook, I would never have been able to reconnect with some of the most incredible people I have known and loved.

My family.  Every single member of it.


Most of all, I am thankful for being here, now.  I am thankful for having the opportunity to grow, learn, explore, discover, dance, sing, bop along to music as I walk down the street, read, write, share, live, and love.

Happy (slightly belated) Thanksgiving readers!




Thursday, November 15, 2012

Monday, November 12, 2012

On Staying Inspired



"I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow. I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights. I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life. I've learned that making a "living" is not the same thing as making a "life." I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance. I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back. I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision. I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one. I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back. I've learned that I still have a lot to learn. I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
- Maya Angelou

Monday, November 5, 2012

Kicking Walls and Making Noise

Does kicking a wall in desperate frustration right out on the street not caring what anyone thinks of you make you a New Yorker?  Can I have that crown now please?

Scene of the crime.  None of that damage was from me.

 have simply been having a kicking-my-foot-into-walls kind of week.  It's been stressful, frustrating, irritating, clingy, and impeccably annoying.  This week is the boyfriend I desperately need and want to break up with.  A reltionship gone sour, far past it's expiration date - not unlinke that yogurt in my fridge that hasn't been opened, and I am convinced it might still be okay to eat.  It probably is not.

The past few months have been littered with ups and downs, highs and lows, ins and outs, and tons of new experiences.  It's slightly refreshing to feel something different.  I've been productive and thoughtful.  I've taken myself out for dinner with the company of nothing but a good book and some killer noodles.  I've done a butt-ton of self reflecting, and a handful of self-inspiration.  I bought new running sneakers because I kicked ass on my first two 5K runs, and I damn well deserved a decent pair of running kicks.  I'm trying really hard to stay on top of things and allow my head to remaind above water, and not saying things to myself like "it's okay, you can cry when you get home", but rather "you're awesome, and you got this".


Sometimes it's really difficult to handle the ups and downs - especially when I'm down, and pulling myself out can be difficult.  I tend to get stuck in negative thought cycles, and while I'm learning to redirect and refocus, some days are harder than others. 

I am an incredibly impatient person when it comes to myself, and I think I'm getting anxious about things not happening faster.  I need to embrace the time I have, because it's not very often you get to completely concentrate on yourself.  I have the opportunity to regroup here - to redefine, and re-examine what makes me tick.  What I love, what I hate, what I want, what I need, my dreams, my realities, my goals - I get to work on me.  How often does a person truly get that chance?  I get to work on me.  I get to work on me.

After all, if we can't laugh at ourselves for throwing a temper tantrum over our own inability to express an emotion?  well shucks.  I'm out.

Monday, October 15, 2012

Sharing Is Caring

I have been meaning to share this blog for quite some time.  This girl is 24, has recently had a book published based on her blog, and is in the development stages of creating a sitcom for it.  Inspirational much?  I love promoting creativity amongst the blogosphere, so please go over to fuck I'm in my twenties and read on.  Note some of my favorite posts:













Wednesday, October 10, 2012

On My 27th

The Best Roommate Gift Ever


Last week, I turned 27.  It is an age that, up until about 6 weeks ago, I was terrified of.  Then I started thinking about what a crappy age 26 was, and how 27, though perhaps scary in size, could be pretty fantastic.  I'm living and thriving in one of the most incredible cities in the world, I'm doing things that I love, I have a list of goals miles long, I have friends and family that care about me, and I'm happy.  Suddenly, I am excited for all it has to offer.

It just wouldn't be a birthday without looking back, and seeing all the knowledge I've gained to take forth with me for this next year of adventures.  I've learned that:

Cats should never eat marshmallows.  If you have them in your house, they will more than likely find them, and eat them.  The ending result of that is not pretty.

People will come in and out of your life.  There isn't necessarily always going to be a reason for it at the time, but the purpose will come to you eventually.

Playing in the summer rain should be done as often as humanly possible.

Bouncing along to the music in your headphones while walking down the street, while making you look funny, makes every step so much more enjoyable. 

The subway is a terrible place to fall asleep.

I am worthy of more than I give myself credit for, in every aspect.

The people who matter stay in your life, no matter what.

I have a good poker face when I actually play poker.

I love Sushi.  Especially Masago.

Timing is everything.

Never give up on the things that you love.

Broken hearts absolutely heal.

Casinos at 10am are incredibly depressing.

Volleyball is my spirit animal.

I am allergic to bug bites.

Losing yourself for the benefit of another is absolutely never worth it.

Neither is waiting for something or someone to come around.

Moving on feels incredible.

Do not give change to a homeless person asking for a dollar.  They will yell at you, and maybe start to run after you.  Also, never put it in a coffee cup.  There might be coffee in there.

Running is awesome.

So are funny YouTube videos.  And tap dancing.

Taking pictures is also awesome.

Never regret the mistakes you've made.  They are what make you who you are and the person you are destined to be.

45 year old men think 26 year olds are good for dating.

Adopting a 4 week old kitten is always a good idea.

Adopting a 4 week old kitten is insane, but I love him anyway.

Strong Bad never gets old.  Ever.

Taking care of yourself can be one of the greatest things you will ever do.

Renting an apartment is stressful.

You are always worthy and deserving of love.

I'm sure there will be more and more to add, but for now, this pretty much captures the highlights.  I'm excited.

Monday, October 1, 2012

Perks of the Wallflower Variety

Every so often, something comes along that changes a piece of you, or a piece of your life.  While I do not necessarily believe that a simple book can do just that, I do believe that something (be it a book, poem, painting, what have you) can have a profound impact on a person, during a specific point in your life.

I first read The Perks of Being A Wallflower during my senior year of high school - a year chock full of transitions, growing up, learning, and discovery.  The perfect year to read a book such as this (the only better year being your freshman year - though the subject matter may be a bit on the heavy side for a 14 year old).  Yesterday, I saw the movie adaptation, where the author of the book, Stephen Chbosky, not only wrote the screenplay, but also directed the film - something I doubt happens very much - and he did an absolutely superb job.  And the one thing it really brought back, for me?  Was this one sentiment:

We accept the love we think we deserve.

It seems crazy to me - a book that I found so inspirational as a 17 year old girl, is having an entirely new effect on me as a soon-to-be 27 year old woman.  I don't think I ever appreciated or understood the weight and the intensity that a simple statement about love would ever have on me, or how much it would apply to me at any point in my life.  I think it comes down to the fact that I have always sold myself short, and put far too much pressure on myself - thus effecting the way I view myself, and the people I choose to surround myself with and have in my life.  My step mom once said to me, "You are so mean to yourself.  Would you ever treat another person going through a rough time like this? You need to be nice to you, too".  And she was, and is, absolutely correct.

I am extremely lucky to come from and have an amazing support system.  For the most part, everyone in my life has always had the utmost confidence in me.  Sometimes, I wish I had a little more in myself, but that's one of those things I will probably always fight for.  I am in a place in my life where I believe many late twenty-somethings are probably in.  Not necessarily transitional, but figuring out the little things, the tougher stuff in between.  It's figuring out what is really important to you, and what is necessary to cut out.  I am falling in love with all the good and the positive life has to offer, and the wonderful people and experiences that come along with it.  The friends who make the time to call you to catch up; the roommates who share a bottle of wine and a bucket full of grapes with you; the nights on rooftops with people who matter; the family that, at the end of the day, is always there to pick you up from a bus station at 10pm in Massachusetts, or the little sister who sends you two thank you cards from her birthday party, just so you can have more mail.  These are the people and experiences I will carry with me always, while the petty ones fall to the wayside.  As I get older, I realize how unimportant the negative is, and how wonderful the good can be.  I am so excited to enter this new stage and new age in my life in a new and improved mindset, doing the things I love with the people I care the most about. 

I always thought of myself of a wallflower, and never thought any one ever noticed me.  I know now that while I am an observer, a wallflower I am not.  And I am ready to accept the love I know I deserve.

Monday, September 24, 2012

No One Is Alone

This past weekend was quite nice.  It was filled with cleaning, eating, movie watching, laughing, talking, friending, sleeping, resting, and eating some more.  I also spent a great deal of time with myself - something that, for the past few weeks, I've been truly terrified of doing.

I've been really fearful of being left alone with my thoughts, scared that they might have more control over me than I was willing to accept, or worse, that I would be overcome with things like heartache, sadness, fear, or loneliness.  All the debilitating feelings that make you want to curl up into your bed forever and never emerge (unless, of course, chocolate is involved).  It's not that these are things that have been present in my life consistently or in an overbearing fashion, but I have been so scared that they could be, that they might make an appearance - and then what?  How would I handle that?  I've come so far, I am reaching out in sheer desperation just to not go backwards.  Has a paranoia of feelings and emotions developed?

Then, I just did it.  I had been under the weather all week with a cold, so I spent a few hours alone on Saturday, and most of Sunday just resting.  I watched movies, I cleaned a little, played with Oliver, snacked, and painted my nails.  I took care of myself, physically and mentally, for an entire weekend - something I haven't done in far too long.  And I came out of it rested, a little overstuffed, and proud of myself.  Proud of myself for doing something that is, yes, oddly simple, but really tough.

Sometimes, it's the little battles that make the monumental wins in my book.  This weekend was a giant step in gaining back my independence and confidence in myself and my capabilities.

I also realize that it's okay to feel alone sometimes, but it is not the best idea to wallow in it.  Let it in momentarily, take a breath, and let it right back out.  You are not alone.  I leave you with that, and the wise words of Stephen Sondheim:

"Hard to see the light now
Just don't let it go
Things will come out right now
We can make it so
Someone is on your side
No one is alone
Believe me, no one is alone"

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Pumpkin Spice and Everything Nice

Autumn.

When the leaves fall off the trees
The end of another number year
The death of the summer
And what I see as rebirth.

I have endless, boundless love for Fall.  Harvests, the vibrant reds and oranges and yellows, the cool breeze ushering in the cold to come, apple picking, pumpkin pie making, caramel apple eating, celebrations, hay rides, haunted houses, Halloween, jeans and sweaters, sweatshirts, and big comfy socks that cover your thighs.

In keeping with my current "loving the little things" mentality, I would just like to say thank you to the kind barista at Starbucks, for making my very first Pumpkin Hot Chocolate of the season today.  I would also like to thank the amazing weather for making my walk to work wonderfully chilly, the great book I've been reading on my morning train rides for being so fantastic (Bright Shiny Morning by James Fry - incredible), my super sore legs from running a relatively consistent 2 miles a day at the gym, and, most importantly, my pants - for today, when I put on the very pair I bought a mere 4 months ago, I was barely able to wear them because of how big they have gotten.  Over the past year, I have probably gained about 10 pounds - mostly due to lifestyle changes, going from dance jobs to a desk job, and living in an area surrounded by amazing food.  I finally decided I wasn't happy with my body the way it was, or with the way I felt, so I signed up for one (now, two!) 5k's and started running.  I'm not necessarily trying to simply drop pounds, but I'd like to be overall healthier, and back in the dancer-shape I was in.  It's a painstakingly slow process, but I'm starting to see results, and it makes me feel empowered.  I've lost about 6 pounds, but the changes in my body are what make the difference.  I've gained some muscle, my waist has gotten smaller, and I am starting to feel more confident - which I can feel simply in my slightly taller walk.  It's amazing what taking a little charge of a small thing can do for you.

In other news, I got a mood ring at a toy store.  I like taking it on and off and watching it change colors.  I also bought Play-Doh and built an alien.  I'm turning 27 in less than a month.

I am finding hope and inspiration in the little things that I do for myself, simply because I am doing things for myself.  I wasn't before.  I am now.  I should never have stopped.  I'm so amazed at how much learning and growing I have been able to do in the past few weeks.  I've felt so many emotions while riding this crazy roller coaster, and while I know I am not finished with this journey just yet, it feels good to look back and be able to notice definite milestones.  To see where I started, and see a significant difference in where I am now.  I don't mean to toot my own horn, but I'm kind of proud of myself.  Big steps are being made, and big things are coming.

Gandhi says we must be the change we wish to see in the world.  I believe we should be the change we wish to see in ourselves.

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

The Little Things

Lately, I've been trying to focus on the little things.

Walking to the L with confidence.

Blasting the new Regina on my morning commute.

Taking the ferry home from work.

New experiences.  New people.  New boundaries.  New mindset.

Eating a fresh beefsteak tomato - in one sitting.  Raw.

Accidentally spilling an entire waste container filled with bright blue, yellow, and pink ink from the copy machine all over myself.

A new phone cover, courtesy of Vera Bradley.

A Mr. Softee dip cone.

Having a conversation with a lonely older woman on the boat ride home.

Seeing my apartment building from the water.

Spending 3 hours eating and chatting in a famous-but-new-to-me pizza joint in a neighboring neighborhood.

Summer beers garnished with oranges.

Walking through the lit up park on a late summer night.

Stooping.  It's a thing.

The blue moon.

Rediscovering an old dress.

Rediscovering myself.
Driving with the windows down singing at the top of your lungs.

Walking past a kid playing with a 6 weeks old white kitten.  The same kid you walked past the week before, playing with the same kitten.  The kitten is bigger.

Watching Strong Bad Emails at work

Not changing the station when The Thong Song comes on the radio.  And remembering all the words.

Finding and loving new music.

Realizing you have 934 individual purchased songs in your iTunes.

Knowing where you are supposed to turn right, but going straight instead.  And continuing to drive.

Finding the entrance to a secret beer garden.

Learning about a secret bar, that is located behind a secret door in a secret phone booth with a secret dial code.

Retrieving the last thing that smells of you.

A sleeping kitten.

Learning that everything, and I do mean everything, is about timing.

A train ride to Moms new home.

A rainy train ride back with a good book and a new giraffe.

Finding the first fall leaf on the ground.

Noticing that the pink buildings I used to pass on my long NJ commute are still pink
Sitting on my giant roof, staring at the sky, the moon, the planes flying by.  Not seeing stars.  Knowing I know just where to go to find them.

Someone painting the word DREAM on the door to the roof in big bold capital letters.  DREAM.

Noticing the forgotten on my walks home, and finding the extraordinary in the ordinary - the things unseen or unnoticed.

Catching up with old friends.

Catching up with new friends.

A hug and a kiss from a Sweet Caraline

A hug and a kiss from Mommy.

How nothing ever changes.

How everything changes.

Spending the last summer weekend with family and friends, eating and drinking, barbecuing and laughing, getting eaten alive by mosquito's and not knowing it until the following morning.

Finding the moments of happiness in between all the rest.
Expunging the negative to make room for the positive.

Enjoying a night of complete inner peace, and hoping for many more to come.

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Walking Through Memories

I did something today that may be considered, perhaps, slightly unorthodox.

Lately, I have been taking a different train to work - a different station, a different line, and in the completely opposite direction of him.  The fact that it is not a mere 2 blocks away from his apartment just adds to it's already growing appeal of being a little more ideal for work.  Today, however, I had a doctors appointment near that train.  That train that simply reeks with memories of him, completely saturated with a year and a half of wearing my heart on my sleeve for someone who simply couldn't handle it.  It took summoning a great deal of courage (I mean, ridiculous) just to enter that stop.  I even made an active decision to get on the train at the opposite end of where he would normally take it, just for fear of seeing him from a distance, or hearing his voice ringing through the subway cars.  As soon as the train reached my stop, I slipped out, and hurried up the stairs through the opposite entrance amongst rush hour traffic, and arrived safely at my destination, unscathed.

Then a funny thing happened.  I walked out of the office, and instead of taking the slightly longer, completely out-of-my-way, safe route home, I turned directly towards his street and walked.  I walked right down one street, and turned on to another, and found myself directly across from his apartment building.  I had no intention or urge to go near it, but I stood across from it, and I stared.  I stared at the green door and metal buzzer.  I stared at the elevator shaft notices and cracked window bars.  I stared at the crumbling bricks, the dripping water, the beat up air conditioners balancing out dirty windows.  I stared, and I breathed.  And I took it all in.  And then I let it all out.  I saw myself, bouncing towards his building, day after day, so excited to see him and climb the four flights of stairs, only to stop for a moment at the top to catch my breath so as not to seem tired when I finally got to lay eyes on him.  I saw myself, meeting him right outside, hoping he would grab me in a giant embrace, as if he hadn't seen me in weeks, and always being slightly disappointed when I had to ask or lean in for a kiss.  I stared, and I remembered, and then I moved on.  I walked away, feeling as though I had just conquered this tiny step, this little street I had been so scared to walk down.  I was nervous about seeing him and kept my eyes wide and peeled for the short time I stood there, but I knew that I needed to be there, just for that moment.  And then I needed to let that moment go.

I ended up walking home the way we would normally walk to my place together.  I stopped in front of places with our memories - the beer garden I threw his surprise party at and where we had our third date; the bar where we ate Cheese Puffs and Twizzlers, played pool and Risk and drank girly beer; the movie theatre we frequented and tried to go to far more than we ever ended up being able to; the building that was "so far away"; the old flea market-turned-outside-bar that we could never figure out how to enter.  I stopped at all these places for just a few moments to admire, and release.  And after feeling the memories, good and bad, I walked on.  It was painful, yet cleansing - as if I was saying goodbye to these memories for now because, just maybe, they are too painful to carry with me.  This neighborhood, this city, reminds me of him.  Everything screams his name, his voice, his smell, his movements - and it's all a little too much.  And since I can't run or move away from it all, I need to re-learn it.  Without him.  And it's really, really hard.

I'm absolutely still feeling the breakup pains - the "what is he..." thoughts plague me often, though maybe not as frequently as they did the first two weeks.  Not being able to talk to him hurts (my decision), and not seeing him or being held by him are probably some of the worst feelings in the world right now.  I hate missing someone all the time.  I hate feeling sad, ever.  But if I'm ever going to get through this to move past this, I have to.  I have to move on and let go - and I don't want to, but I have to.  Every day, though getting easier, has been a struggle.  Getting out of bed is the worst.  Falling asleep is the worst.  Missing him is the worst.  But it's all I can do.

I spent so much time trying to be enough, trying to be the best girlfriend and person I could be, feeling like I was always inadequate or not good enough, hoping that "maybe today, he'll love me", trying to be worthy enough of him and his ability to fall in love me, when really?  It was he who may not have been worthy of me, and my love.  I wanted so much from the relationship, and from him, and he was not capable of giving it to me.  And instead of taking that on as a fault of mine, I need to realize and truly understand that there was nothing I could do.  You can not draw blood from a stone, and you can not make a man who does not have it in him to love someone love you.  This is the challenge that I need to embrace, and move on, so that the person who can love me, and will love me, can come along.  Because I deserve to be loved.

"The truth is, you can only give a person so much time to realize what's standing right in front of them. You can only let a person chase you for so long before you realize that maybe, just maybe, they never intended to catch you at all.  The right one for you will always handle your heart with care and treasure it for the precious gift that it is" - Mandy Hale

"Someday you're gonna look back on this moment of your life as such a sweet time of grieving.  You'll see that you were in mourning and your heart was broken, but your life was changing" - Elizabeth Gilbert

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Floating Advice

What if everything that's happened so far, Hilary, was just practice for when things get really, really good? 

Really, really soon - 
    The Universe

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Dancing The Tightrope


I do not see my life as one long string of events - I see my life as a series, in compartments, segments, phases, if you will, joined together to create the person I am at the time.  I enjoy life as I live it, and dissect it as it passes.  I over think, overwhelm, and become completely immersed in various aspects I find I am the most passionate about.  I go in waves and stages, up hills and down valleys, and in the end, I try to be the best me that I can be, hoping that in the end, I come out stronger, wiser, possibly more flexible, but overall more rounded and experienced.  I yearn to learn and grow and find more and more about who I am and what I want.  That may be the best way I know to express who I am - a curious creature trying to learn and explore, make mistakes and fall, get up, try again, and embrace all I can pick up along the way, even if I don't see it at the time.

The thing of it is, I'm sure I will learn from this. I'm sure I will grow and this will help me become the person I one day will be, but in the meantime? I have no other way to tell you other than having your heart broken completely fucking sucks. This crawl into bed under the covers with a roll of toilet paper because you ran out of tissues can't wash your hair want to constantly vomit what is he doing who is he sleeping with why can't I sleep why can't I get out of bed why hasn't he called me is he thinking about me I'm thinking about him why doesn't he miss me why doesn't he love me where did my life go sucks.

Yes, I'm reading a self help book to self help myself.  Yes, I have Gilmore girls on marathon mode. No I'm not eating much. Yes, I cry in the shower. And in bed. And on the subway, and the on the sofa, and at my desk at work, and in the library with Mr. Mustard and the Wrench.  Yes, I loved him. No, he did not love me back. Ever, as it turns out. Yes, I feel wasted - learning experience or not, unrequited love sucks a giant rock. Yes, I feel awful about my self and self worth. Yes, I feel completely unloveable and rejected. Yes, getting out of bed is consistently difficult when all I want to do is hibernate, and come out when everything is better. And yes, having your heart broken is not a fun experience, especially when it is the same person duplicating the dumping.
It's hard for me to look at this objectively right now, as I am in the midst of some pretty serious sadness(which, for the record, is the absolute worst feeling in the world, as far as I'm concerned).  I don't necessarily regret things overall, because every experience is important and teaches you something about yourself, but I can't help but kick myself a little bit.  Maybe, the only reason you should ever take someone back is for love. Perhaps that was my big mistake - falling prey to the crawling back without a drop of the L word (no, not lesbian). I fell for the promise and maybe lines. The "I don't know if I'm going to fall in love with you, but I know that if I don't at least try, I will regret it for the rest of my life". That may be some serious bull shit, folks. I understand that some things take time, but if you are with someone for a year and a half and you don't know if you love them? Spoiler alert, you probably don't.  Is there a nicer way to say "shit or get off the pot"?  It's that, but prettier.  

I suppose I can look at this as wisdom to my future wiser self.  Next time, I will not wait for someone to come around. They probably will not. And even if they do, why would I want someone who is settling for me? I know on some level that I deserve to be loved. Do I feel that way right now? Of course not.  But I may soon.  The worst part about all this is that it takes time, and I am unbelievably extremely impatient.  Therefore, I am dealing with this as best as I can, for now.  I'm talking about it, writing about it, working out about it - exponging it from my system as best and as quickly as is humanly possible.  I feel like it just has to get out.  And the worst part is that in order to move on, I have to feel all the things I don't want to - and even worse than that, I have to do it while missing him.  Because doesnt that blow?  Missing someone you can't even have?  Or perhaps it is mourning the death of the relationship like the death of a family member, and knowing that you can't push it down to get past it - you have to mourn it to move on.  Now, if only I could figure out how to turn this mourning into a movie montage, complete with the part where I get it all together and have an amazing life and amazing body and run up the steps in Philly while punching my fist through the air.  Ah, goals.


The main thing that is really getting me through this right now?  My friends, and my family.  I honestly don't know what I would do without them.  Most of them are not near me, but it is the abundance of phone calls, text messages, Facebook messages, movie watching, bed talking, and hang-out time that is keeping me sane and helping me get through the heart break.  And it's incredibly hard to re-learn how to be okay with being alone.  Not alone in the single sense, but alone in the no-one-else-is-home sense.  It's frighteningly hard to be alone with your thoughts, especially when they can overwhelm and consume you, and this is probably the absolute toughest thing for me right now.  But I'm working on it.  I am also throwing myself into work - trying to pick up whatever projects and responsibilities I can (which is insanely tough since I'm still pretty new here).  I have signed up with my step mom to run a 5K in October to fight childhood obesity.  I'm signing up for a Volleyball league for the fall.  I'm making plans, keeping busy, and trying to find time in between to feel the things I'm supposed to without losing my mind.

So, that's that.  Welcome to the inner workings of a woman's mind during a break up, or as I like to call it, "Dancing the tightrope".  Because that is what I'm doing - walking a fine line between okay and not, riding emotional rollercoasters and trying to make sense of myself again.  Journey on.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Tooth Manifesto

I know it's irrational and ridiculous and only slightly unfounded, but I am completely and totally deathly afraid of the dentist. 

There is pretty much nothing I fear more.  The sounds, the smells, the tension you feel the moment you walk in; The cold, sterile air that fills your lungs; The shaking legs in the waiting room, anxiously anticipating a cleaning or cavity filling; I hate every single aspect.

Perhaps it stems from years of dentistry in my childhood - though looking back, my childhood dentist was actually pretty awesome.  His name was Dr. Meadow, and I used to love going to his office.  His waiting room was filled with toys and a gigantic fish tank.  His actual exam areas had video games and board games.  He used to give you a Game Boy or a Magna Doodle (which I always picked for some reason) to play with while you would sit for fifteen minutes with whatever flavor fluoride you chose (bubblegum!) on your teeth (in those weird Styrofoam mouth things, so uncomfortable), and at the end of the visit, you got to pick a prize!  These were just tons of items to completely distract a child from the fact that they were actually in the devils lair.  Well played, Dr. Meadow.  Well played.

At one point, Dr. Meadow brought my mom back to the exam room, and told her that my baby teeth just didn't want to fall out, and that I needed to get some pulled in order to fit me for a retainer.  I was far too distracted by the awesome power of the Magna Doodle and didn't register what this meant at the time.  However, a few weeks later, my mom brought me back to Dr. Meadow and explained exactly what would be happening.  I didn't think it sounded so terrible - I mean, I used to love having loose teeth, so this was sort of like that, right?  Wrong.  Dr. Meadow may have been an excellent dentist, but a good needle-giver he was not.  To this day I can feel the horrible pain of him jamming a needle filled with novocaine into my gums.  Tears streamed down my face in full force as I felt him twist and pull four of my itty bitty teeth out of my mouth.  At the end of the visit, he shoved gauze into my mouth and handed me one of those paddles with the ball attached with a string.  "She did great!" he told my mom as I sobbed into her leg.  I went home and my mom gave me matza ball soup which I tried to eat while playing nintendo in the basement.  A spider crawled across the table.  I officially hated the dentist.

Over the next few years I endured what many little kids do - countless visits to the dentist and orthodontist, retainer fittings, braces tightening, and, in order to make the braces work better, getting 4 permament molars removed because "her jaw is just too small for such big teeth!".  Thanks for giving me a complex, Doc.  My mom tried to take me back to Dr. Meadow to get the molars pulled but I refused, claiming he wanted to kill me with the needles.  To ease my nerves, my mom made an appointment with a wonderful oral surgeon, Dr. Levine.  He did a wonderful job removing my 4 teeth all at once while I had a mild panic attack, and that was that.  Great.  I was then tooth-pulling free for about 9 years.  Score!

Then my wisdom teeth started to come in.  I was on my own insurance so I went to a new dentist, who told me they all had to come out because "you have gigantic teeth!".  Seriously, enough with that.  I said "okay", and decided the best course of action would be to ignore the problem because, as we all know, avoidance makes things go away.  A few years and a few cleanings passed.  Dr. Boylen kept urging me to "get 'em pulled already", but I knew better than to allow that tricky dentist to decieve me.  One night, I was sitting on my friends bed eating stuffed shells when I felt something in the back of my mouth crack.  I then bit down on something hard.  My wisdom tooth had just broken.

The next day, I called Dr. Levine and begged him to fit me in to remove my tooth.  He said okay, and got me an appointment for the next morning.  Knowing how anxious I usually got before hand, I had my mom drive me to the appointment (for the record, I am 23 years old at this point).  I went in, and Dr. Levine gave me 4 shots of novocaine, but for whatever reason, I was not getting numb.  Finally, he gave me a giant shot in the roof of my mouth (which hurt like total crazy cakes), and pulled the tooth.  Upon getting out of the chair, I immediately felt light headed and fell to the floor, almost passing out.  The nurses helped me up and brought me into the recovery room to give me oxygen.  I spent 2 hours almost passing out from the rogue novacaine floating through my head.  My mom was finally able to drive me home, and I spent the next 6 days too dizzy to even drive.  I decided then that I was done with this whole "tooth pulling" thing.

Of course, I couldn't actually be done, because I still had 3 wisdom teeth.  After avoiding it for another 2 years, the other top wisdom  tooth broke.  I was now living in Brooklyn and had to find a new dentist.  Luckily, I found someone amazing (Dr. Kessler!), who, even as I basically hyperventilated and had a massive panic attack in the chair, held my hand and talked me through the entire thing.  He then sent me on my way, saying "We really need to get those last two out - but you're a mess, so we're going to put you out for it, end of story".  Fair enough.

This brings us now to this coming Friday, when I have an appointment to get the final 2 wisdom teeth (and, for the love of everything chocolate, my last two teeth to ever be) pulled.  They are both on the bottom, and they are both impacted.  One of them is coming in sideways and has pushed so hard into the tooth next to it, that it broke itself and it's neighbor.  I have been having massive anxiety for weeks about this, but if I don't get it done now, my mouth is going to fall apart.  Plus there is the whole issue of my being in pain for weeks from it.  Do I feel like I am going to die at the dentist?  Yes.  Am I aware that this is irrational?  Also yes.  Am I also aware that I have helped to instigate this massive fear by avoiding it for so long, thus creating an even bigger problem than I had initially?  Again, yes.  But here I am, at the end of this long journey of tooth fear.  At this point, I am almost looking forward to getting this over with.  It's been years since I haven't been in some sort of tooth pain or had some sort of jaw tension.  I wish I was getting this done today so that I could stop anticipating it already.  I can only hope for as little pain and soreness as possible and a speedy healing process (and please, please, please no dry socket).

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Those Moments When


Moments are funny things. They can be as fleeting as a passing thought, or as long as the ten seconds that felt like an eternity when you forgot your words on stage. They can be light and fluffy and nonsensical, or heavy realizations you never thought you’d actually stumble across – those cliché moments you’ve heard about, seen illustrated, but never lived; Moments that can make life worth living, while simultaneously making things undeniably real and present.


Those moments when you realize your parents aren’t your perfect superhero’s; When a plastic ball pit becomes a germ-invested booger-fest rather than an endless sea of bottomless fun; When your dream job becomes something that will help you live first, and make you happy second; When saving money isn’t easy because you need to pay bills and eat and live; When you can no longer eat whatever you want without actually focusing on exercising because metabolism is a real thing, and it does catch up with you; When you don’t marry your first love; When you realize you can’t actually have an apartment like Rachel and Monica did, because in New York City, it would cost over $10,000 a month– and not a lot of people make that; When you start thinking about having to take care of your parents, and how on earth you are going to be able to do that when you can just take care of yourself; When the Naked Cowboy in Times Square doesn’t seem like a fun tourist attraction, but a million health violations waiting to happen (no, I will not touch him); When you hope your grandmother will be around long enough to see you walk down the aisle and dance at your wedding; When you walk through Forever 21 and feel old because most of the dresses don’t really fit on your hips correctly; When you have hips; When you move past your first job, feeling jaded by an experience and hoping it doesn’t effect you going forward; When it absolutely effects you going forward; When a productive weekend means you cleaned your entire apartment, did laundry, and went food shopping; When you realize you are growing up.

I have made the startling realization that I am doing just that - growing up.  It's not that I'm unhappy about it.  On the contrary, I'm actually enjoying it all.  This isn't to say that I'm not going to run barefoot through an open fire hydrant, or do cartwheels down the beach and run into the ocean.  It's just that now, these moments count more.  I recognize how fortunate I am to have opportunities to play and leap, take off for a weekend here and there, adopt a cat or get a piercing.  Perhaps they are just more meaningful now.  Or maybe, I'm just appreciating the little things.  I like appreciating the little things.