When I Grow Old

I guess I have gotten to the age where I no longer say, "when I grow-up", now I think instead about how I want to grow old.

I had a vision of what I would like that to look like yesterday. Jo and I picked up our CSA produce share on 14th Street and met up with Em for a quick drink in an outdoor garden in the East Village. Em proceeded to lead us through the Japanese market, gathering exotic ingredients and a few beautiful squid. From there we wandered over to a fantastic Spanish wine shop Tinto Fino on our way to Kaitlin's apartment. We spent the evening cooking our bounty, sipping our wine and laughing together on Kaitlin's terrace.

Kaitlin rushed off to a date and we proceeded back up to the village for a nightcap. We mused, waxed philosophical and reminisced for a bit before heading back out into the warm summer evening to make our way home. I looked at my amazing girls, listened to the sound of their voices dancing around me and smiled.

I could spend my days this way. Cooking, sharing, living each meal like an event. I think I would like to have nightly dinner parties. Smaller ones during the week, with one or two good friends and endless interesting conversation. I would have larger ones too, the classic dinner parties from my grandparents' era, right down to cocktail hour and after dinner drinks.

I am collecting phenomenal people, they will fill my life like chotchkies fill the homes of old Midwestern women. I have learned that good friends are the most valuable thing one can aspire to have in their life. People are interesting, they are important, and contrary to popular belief, relationships must be cultivated like a garden. It is worth the effort, in the end it makes all the difference. Children grow-up and leave, sometimes husbands do too! Friends, when cared for and tended to, they can last forever.

Yes, I had a vision of a beautiful old woman last night. She has a full, beautiful life, stories of a life well lived and the warmth of love rendering her face luminescent. That is who I want to be when I grow old.

Feed my Eyes, Feed my Soul

New York is my home. Walking down 1st Avenue feels much like walking down the corridor of a large home, padding over to my sister's room in my fuzzy slippers. This place is requires of me only my truest self; it lives within me as much as I in it. Last night we were musing over beers in a dark East Village tavern about our home. Though it is home, that does not mean there is not room in my heart for other cities, other adventures. There is no where else in this country I would move, and I say this as someone who has seen nearly all of it. The world, on the other hand, holds far too many beautiful mysteries to be left unexplored. This lead me back to the exotic places that still linger in the landscape of my mind.

I have seen the beauty of Paris, walking along the Seine. I have seen the wonders of the Rockie Mountains on a crisp spring morning. I have watched the sun dip into the Pacific Ocean, setting the Santa Monica hills ablaze. I have swam in the azure waters of the Caribbean. I have found myself mesmerized by the grandeur of my beloved New York. Beauty feeds a deep place inside of me; I feast on it and succumb to it. When I think of beauty though, the kind that takes your breath away, there is one place that eclipses all others: my desert.

The unexpected bursts of beauty amidst desolation can bring a tear to my eye to this day. I can feel it inside of me: the unceasing desert wind, the purple and red of the sunset, the green jewels of life around the Tigress river that shock your senses as you come atop a sandy hill, even the sea of nothingness that surrounded me as we moved through southern Iraq. The orange and white trucks bustling down the road, the people dressed in flowing robes, the bazaars selling bootleg Micheal Jackson Cd's, all of it both terrifying and enticing in its complete otherness. My heart beats faster at the memory, filling me with both anxiety and longing. Funny though, looking at pictures of that place, it never looks the way I remember. I wonder now if the beauty we are drawn to is somehow reflective of something inside ourselves.

Iraq is a land of contradictions, juxtapositions: beautiful and barren, dangerous and peaceful, fight and flight. I sometimes think my own beauty comes from the same kind of contradiction. I am not the most physically stunning specimen, but there is something about me, like an oasis in a desert that makes me shine in a way that is not as simple as a beautiful face or body. What that thing is, I don't know.

I know that a desert wind blows through me, making me volatile and passionate and ever changing. Out of the currents of past pain grows a spectacular garden of serenity. The deserts of things yet unattained drive me forward. The constant dangers of the world makes me brave and grateful. The desert winds in my soul whisper to me. They tell me to live, live passionately, cherish people, push on despite the seemingly endless expanse of emptiness that sometimes surrounds me. I live in that rugged, beautiful, scary, exciting place, not as a soldier, not as a tourist, but as wild creature.

The wildness of that place speaks to the wild thing inside of me. That is why her beauty reigns supreme, that is why I must never stop seeking life in far away lands. There are pieces of me waiting to be discovered in faraway lands. I found my home in New York, but home is not the end of the journey. Home is the place that gives you the strength and confidence to venture back out, knowing that there will always be a place to which you can fully return.

Kansas Jo Comes Blowing into Town

I would be lying if I said I was without my concerns about Jo's impending arrival. She too felt the familiar panic as the date of her JFK landing drew near. We know we are like sisters and we are both fiercely independent, but above all, we knew that her arrival would change everything for us.

After settling into my new life of solitude, the proposition of once again sharing my home was a perplexing one. As with all change in life, it is best to accept it at face value, not try to make it resemble your old life and open yourself up to the stunning possibilities. With that idea in mind, I honored my last evening alone by curling up on the couch with pizza and having a good lazy session.

Thursday evening she blew into town and brought with her a latent, nervous energy that fueled a manic two week bender. We started off with dinner and many drinks at Yuca Bar in the East Village, stumbling home to pass clean out. The next day we wandered the city. New York was the first dear friend of mine I had the pleasure of introducing her to. That evening I hosted an insane Koreatown Karaoke party and introduced her to the good, the bad and the ugly in my fair group.

The next week was a boozy, non-stop parade of introductions and late nights. She met my Gay Godfather for brunch, my neurotic Gossip Girl Kaitlin, had an epic dinner with my friend Nelson, several girls nights with Em and a disastrous night out in the Lower East Side. In between these activities, I continued meeting up with my various amigos individually.

I drank, I slept little and I still made it to the gym most days. I was filled with an energy that threatened to consume me if I stopped for even one moment.

By the second week, we were finding our footing. We began sleeping soundly, staying in a night or two and truly enjoying the new life forming around us.

My energy is dipping, (perhaps back to a more human level!) I am craving food over wine, and it has begun to just feel like life. Without changing a thing, simply inviting her into my world, it has enriched it for me. If it is possible, she allowed me to fall even more in love with my city, my friends, my life.

I feel it is honest to say that her presence has always made me sentimental, especially when it comes to D. This held true for the first few days, perhaps part of the reason I was running like my life depended on it was that I was afraid of some piece of me or my old life she might take me back to, but with my attention drawn back to all the people and adventures at my fingertips, the sentiment drifted away and was replaced with all the burning glory of things yet to come. As we slowed our pace and began to talk I found myself face to face with someone as brand new as I am. She is no longer stuck in the desert where we first met, she is free and ready to charge into the horizon with me. We are finally both free to live and dream and feel as we never where able to in our old world. She is no longer a reminder of the past, but a vibrant part of my journey into the future. Yes, my sister is here and I am seeing her for the first time as she was always meant to be.

She is thinking of coming here to stay, and walking along through the East Village, watching her and Emily laughing, I could barely stand to hope it. That much joy is to scary to even hope for. Could I actually have it all? I may not yet be completely settled into my new life with Kansas Jo, but I am having one hell of a ride.

The Season of Bleeding Feet

Spring is here and with it came the bleeding feet.

Every spring I feel like a prisoner being paroled, the wicked cold not longer keeps me trapped in the house, dreading my walks to and from work and impeding my otherwise active lifestyle. I go out and buy brand new flats to accommodate all the walking I am going to be doing.

Like said prisoner, I find my new found freedom throws me into a fit of hedonism. I walk and walk, greedily taking in all the excitement and drama of the city in bloom. I walk so much in these new shoes (which were very comfortable when I tried them on!) that my feet end of looking like they came out of a meat grinder. This all happens the first weekend of Spring, the following week of spring finds me gingerly trying to get my battered feet into whatever pair of shoes don't cause me unbearable agony!

Well, my feet are beginning to heal and the shoes will get broken in eventually. I must say it is worth it though, each passing block offers me its own story or character. For example, last week I walked to the library on my way home from work. On my way in, two young boys passed me carrying children's books. They could not have been more than 10 years old. I though little of it, assuming their parents were waiting for them outside. On my way home I pass the outdoor cafe on my corner. There they were: the two little boys were sitting at at table by themselves, sipping soda and reading their books. I found their adultness to be endlessly amusing, only in New York! Turning the corner, I give a nod to the Empire State Building, thinking how amazing it is that I have such an icon as a neighbor.

The city herself seems to be celebrating; the parks are alive with tulips and lavender, and the trees lining the streets are covered in cherry blossoms. I notice old temples nestled between the brownstones and storefronts I never seemed to see before. She is singing to me, radiant and beautiful, finally waking from her winter slumber.

Walking through her streets I feel that familiar sense of satisfaction. I feel so full inside, like there is nothing else in the world I need at that moment. I suppose I have every reason to feel that way: my professional life is about to begin, I have amazing friends who think I am capable of anything, my family adores me, I have a great apartment, a bearable job and I live in the most magnificent city in the world. I also have a deep sense that all the things I don't yet have are coming to me. Mostly though, when I wander through New York on a beautiful spring day, I don't feel loneliness is possible.

Spring is a time of change and growth, and I suppose then it is only appropriate that it comes with a little pain. The season of bleeding feet is here and I couldn't be happier.

Drama Queen

"New Yorkers just love the drama of snow".

"You can get away with about anything in New York. New Yorkers have seen it all and are remarkably non-confrontational."

"Look it had to happen at some point, in a city of eight million people you're bound to run into your ex-wife and six years later you find yourself singing "Surrey with a fringe on top" in front of Ira!"

God, I love New York. As my beautiful city and her residents have come-up in conversation lately, I have just be struck once again by the sheer fun of this city. We New Yorkers are able to watch the madness all around us and revel in the drama of life. She is such a character all on her own, I think she may be my favorite actress. Films, books and television shows set in this city of mine take on a new life and meaning for me. Who knew a place could have such a personality? Just reason #1,238,000 I LOVE NEW YORK!

Spring Cleaning

Today Spring seemed to give us an early peek at her splendor. The weather was mild and the sun was shining. The sense of new beginnings that accompanies spring inspired me to take a look at what potential new adventures are on my own horizon.

Last summer I asked the question: "Can I craft a life full of friends, adventure, passion and excitement on the salary of an executive assistant in only 5 weeks, oh, and figure out what to do with my life?" Shockingly, I did just that.

My culinary club is still going strong, despite a bit of a winter lull, we still have events frequently and several of the members have become true friends. My social calendar is full when I want it to be, my "Rolodex" containing women whom I can arrange outings with at my leisure. After some major upheaval, my life is fairly stable. My jobs both suck, but they are bearable! I finally know beyond a shadow of a doubt which direction I want to take career wise; passion winning out over pretension and money. I create little adventures in the city I adore, and my life is rather good. The question now is what to do next.

Some of my original weekly checklist items need to be maintained; I need to continue to fight my inner hermit (though this has become much easier!), continue taking care of myself in the gym, continue maintaining my blogs, expand my culinary repertoire and try to do at least one thing every week to push myself. I think my next set of goals need to be based on focusing my passion. Like I said, I know the direction I want to take, but I really don't know the destination and the only way to find out is to dabble in a bit of this and that.

I know I want to work in the culinary field, but doing what? I have no doubt that life has some interesting possibilities that I could not even imagine, so I am going to stay open to whatever comes my way! I need to start testing the waters though. With that in mind, I want to start writing restaurant reviews, possibly linked to yet another blog! The Treasure Hunt, will chronicle the gastronomical adventures of a young, broke woman in Manhattan. I think it could be really good. After many conversations, damning the new NY Times food critic Sam Sifton, I have realized that good reviews are not about scientific accuracy, but about telling a good story. I think I can do that! I will at least try and find out.

I also have some interesting food projects brewing; I was asked to conduct some kind of culinary class at the VA vet center in Brooklyn and one of my girlfriends is working on a culinary tours business idea and invited me to join her team. I need to dedicate some time each week to New Culinary Projects.

I have roughly six months before I could potentially be starting my master's degree program at NYU. I want to spend those six months enjoying everyday adventures, enjoying my interesting friends and meeting new ones, honing my culinary passion and making my life even more fulfilling. I don't know what my destination looks like, but I know I am on the right track. It will not be perfect, because life never is. There are more ups and downs coming my way, but as long as I can maintain my sense of wonder and adventure, I know everything will come together for me.

Here's to the next evolution of the experiment; crafting the career of my dreams. I'm in New York City, land of dreams and giants, if I can make it here I can make it anywhere.

Hello 2010!

It was great to be with the EWI crew again on Tuesday! We braved the disgusting, frigid weather on the way to Purple Yam, and it was actually worth it. We six ladies ate our way through a good chunk of the menu, and everything was delicious. It was probably the best meal I have had in the past few months. Even more than that, it was good for my soul to be with my people again. The joy this group has brought me is overwhelming. When I start to really think about the fact that this amazing group of 35 people see me as their "leader" (a title that makes me blush), I am awe struck.

I am not shy or all that humble, but I am honored and humbled by the recognition they give me. Bringing people together around a passion so near and dear to me is like a dream. One of my members told me the other day that the key to groups like ours is the leader. She said that "If you don't really like the founder, the group is going to suck, no matter what the theme is". Wow. I am so completely real with these people, and they love me. It is a feeling I have never really had before and it floors me. I need them and they need me. Eating With Impunity is truly my baby.

We have rescheduled the Beer and Cheese Fete for a week from Saturday, but I decided to spring a last minute brunch on the group for this Saturday. Whether one or ten, I am going to have a good time! All about me you know! It is a bit scary, but that has been a theme of mine lately. I care about other people deeply, but for the first time in my life, I am really focusing on just making myself happy. Hopefully this is healthy and not the beginning of my slow decent into narcissism!

This sentiment carries over to my relationship with D. too. I blame it on my new attempts to "act my age", but I am finding myself thinking in terms of "me" and not "we". I have stepped back and I don't think that it is inappropriate. I am 25, unmarried and have my whole life ahead of me. I am no more ready to settle down now than I was when I was playing house at 19, the difference is, now I know it.

Well, 2009 is on it's way out. The parties begin in a few hours. Nine and a half hours from now 2010 will be here, filled with all the possibility, adventure and hope of a new born child. This has been a good year, for the first time in my life I am certain that the next will be even more beautiful. This year I came back to life: I truly met my brother for the first time, I fell in love with a city, I transformed my life, I found my passion and I re-discovered hope. There was sadness, there was pain, but it was all overshadowed by joy. I have so much love in my life, it is overwhelming.

I seem to have lived and died so many times over the last 25 years, thank God I am so alive on the eve of 2010. Thank God for my beautiful friends, old and new. Thank God for the city that took my breath away. Thank God for my strong, resilient heart that still somehow has the capacity to give and receive even after all the heartbreak. I am exactly where I want to be and who I want to be, it can only get better from here.

The Night Before Christmas

People may say that Christmas is a time for merriment and cheer, but I think that better descriptors would be disappointment, obligation and silent prayers for it to just be over already!

Now, don't get me wrong, I love the holiday season. It is the actual holiday itself that lends to misery. Not all my Christmases have been bad, most have just been anticlimactic. My favorite Christmas was the one I spent in Iraq with my best friends. It was simple and joyful and easy.

In an effort to create a new era of merry Christmas's on my terms, I set out to create my own holiday traditions. Christmas dinner with D.'s family was non-negotiable, so I decided to work around it and focus on Christmas Eve.

I wanted to enjoy the splendor of New York during the holidays and finish the evening basking in her glory with a martini. For this I decided to brave the hordes of tourists at Rockefeller Center and make my annual mecca to see the tree. I actually went to see the tree last year, so it could be considered an official tradition at this point! Unfortunately, last year we went during the day and were quite rushed. This year, it was beautiful.

The crowds merely added to the "quest feel" of the excursion. We fought our way through and I modeled in front of the iconic holiday symbol. After the "photo-shoot" we began ambling down Fifth Avenue, basking in the glow of the lights and the sound of carols. We finally arrived at 230 Fifth and headed-up to the heated roof-bar.

A word about 230 Fifth Ave, it is a totally duchie place! It is all velvet couches and waitresses in short skirts and (sorry fellas) investment bankers and European tourists. Despite all that, it happens to have 360 degree views of the city and a year-round heated roof deck. For these commodities I gladly paid $28 for two dirty martini's!

Sitting on the roof, sipping my perfect Kettle One martini, gazing at the red and green lights of the Empire State Building, scanning the skyline for the luminescent peak of the Chrysler Building, listening to the crooning voices of 1950's lounge singer belt out Christmas classics; I could do nothing but smile. This is my city, my Christmas Eve, my life. Looking through my pictures I saw happiness, no fake smiles or poses, just joy. It looked good, it felt good.

Merry Christmas to me.

Life is never exactly what you expect or want it to be. You can never go back in time, but you can make the most of what you do have. You can make your own traditions and indulge in those things that make you merry and fill your heart with cheer.

Me and my Words

My mind has been filled with a tempest of thoughts lately; words begging, demanding to escape. Despite their clawing at me from within, I have merely been able to jot down notes, compose queries in my mind and I lay awake in bed. The knot in my stomach should begin to loosen and I release these tortuous thoughts, lay them to rest on paper. At least I hope so. There are so many, the question is where to begin. Is it with the growtesc nature of man? The drab gray of my professional life which I desperately try to add color to? The sweet melancholy of longing?

Well, New York in all her wisdom, has chosen to strand me here alone in my apartment. The impending blizzard dashing any hopes of the sweet distraction of my EWI event. I am here, just me and my words, and all the time to put them down.

New York Cries for Me Tonight

New York cried for me today. She cried tears I could not muster. It was wet and sad, but I barely felt it as I walked home with no umbrella in hand. Perhaps it was the warmth of the wine, but I feel that it was more than that. It was like the numb, sad feelings I have been carrying with me all week. The anonymous, sad little face that haunts me from time to time has been replaced with the sad, broken faces of my new clientele. The young veteran living in a homeless shelter, the older Vietnam vet desperately asking for help, my brother's sad voice; these have replaced the anonymous sad face in my heart.

My new job is hard. Not technically, technically it is idiotically simple, making me feel like a faceless cog in a machine. No, it is hard to see sick, dying and desperate people all day. Especially hard with an alcoholic brother and demented grandfather always in the back of my mind. A means to an end, plenty of leave, promotion potential; these are my mantras.

I don't mean to complain. It is getting better, getting easier. It is nice to at least give an ear to those so desperately in need of one. I am just a bit sad today. Sad for my baby brother, sad for my grieving mother and a little bit sad for me. I still have not found the tears though. This brings me back to my city. She did not pelt me with freezing rain, simply showered me with unexpected sympathy. She did what I am not able to do. She cried softly.

Still no word from NYU. I'm glad. Today is not the day for good news. Perhaps tomorrow I will smile, perhaps tomorrow I will be ready to celebrate. For today I will gratefully accept the compassion of my city, today I will morn. 12 hours of work down, another two days to go. One day at a time. Tomorrow will be brighter, tonight I will let the tears of New York lull me to sleep.

The City of Giants

Riding through New York last night, gazing up at the passing brownstones, churches and skyscrapers, I realized that New York is a city of giants. Some people would feel intimidated by the dwarfing structures surrounding them, but I think that the people here, those of us who love this city, are inspired by them. My friendly giants tower over me, rising up to the sky, some containing massive mosaics of saints gazing back down. I politely nod to them, taking in their grandness, feeding off of their enormity. All I feel is a rush, a drive to get to the top of these giants and gaze across this beautiful city from their shoulders.

I mean this literally and figuratively! I do want to climb, I want to become successful enough to own a piece of this brick and mortar, a piece with a view of the entire kingdom. I want to climb and claw my way to a corner office overlooking the sea of monuments that make-up Manhattan. I suppose this must be one of the many things that make New Yorkers so special, in the face of giants we charge ahead, fueled by the challenge and monuments to past glories, we do not cower in our own small stature.

These friendly giants are alive with the ghosts of the past, throbbing with history and both accomplished dreams and shattered ones. This entire city is alive, a creature with it's own pulse and energy. It is as if I will never be alone in New York, because the city itself absorbs me into it's flow and life. This embrace further drives me forward, unafraid.

How could a place capture my heart so completely? Is there any other location on earth like it? Perhaps, but I certainly have not found one, so like a love sick teenager I will continue to let myself be surprised and enthralled and hopelessly in love with my city.

Fantasy Dream Dates and Pasties

Saturday was my 3 year anniversary with D. Three Years! That is a long time. It began with my requisite sending-off of the aunt, but progressed beautifully from there. We had planned on having lunch, golfing at Chelsea Piers, shopping in Brooklyn, seeing a Broadway show, going to dinner and dancing at an 80's party. Quite ambitious, I know!

We started by walking up to Harold's Square to grab some sandwiches from Tom Coliccio's WichCraft. The weather was beautiful and we stopped to window shop on the way. We had grilled Gruyere and onion panini and chicken salad, both fantastic. We talked and laughed. From there we decided to detour up to Times Square to the TKTS booth to try and get tickets to a show. We waited for an hour in line only to find out that our first choices were not available. Burn the floor was available for $86 a piece, but as DeShon slid them his credit card, I asked him if we could just skip it and go to burlesque instead. I was so touched by his generosity, but really did not want him to spend the money on a show I didn't really want to see. I was certain he would be annoyed with me for keeping him in line for an hour for nothing, but he simply kissed my cheek and told me it was fine. The fantasy dream date continues!

We wandered back home, shopping and talking along the way, and decided to go see a movie before dinner. We got dressed, I made a reservation at DBGB, and we headed off to see Couple's Retreat. (He actually wanted to see it too! See why I love this guy?) The movie was good (not great, but really good) and we set-off to try and get an earlier table at DBGB.

The restaurant was packed and it took a sort of guerrilla warfare to get a table at the bar, but after some devious undercutting, I got the table. He picked the first course and I picked the second. We started with Autumn Squash soup and an iceberg, blue cheese salad. They were phenomenal. The soup was a life-changer with the complex flavors, beautiful foam and perfect texture. The salad, which I have never been a fan of, was executed to perfection. The blue cheese was subtly intense and the thin sliced iceberg made a perfect base. Honestly, the dishes together were a symphony. The tangy and sweet, overpowering and subtle, a very nice nod to the occasion.

For second courses I ordered the Frenchie Burger, a burger featuring pork belly, tomato confit and an onion bun, and the DBGB homemade hot dog. They both came with fries and were both good. Not the best hot dog and hamburger I had ever had (which for the price you would hope it would be) but very good none-the-less. The martini's and wine were also pitch perfect.

After dinner we flew uptown to see our burlesque show. We sat in the front row, close enough to see EVERYTHING, and it was delightful. The show was funny and entertaining and my face actually began to hurt from smiling so much! D was called-up on stage to help the magician with his act and practically stole the show! We drank and laughed the entire performance. After the show I stopped the performers to compliment them on the performance. The burlesque dancer hugged me and told me how nice it was to have women in the audience who enjoyed it and didn't judge her body or cellulite. I must say, she had a beautiful body, and hardly a glimpse of cellulite!

Happy and drunk, we stumbled into the night and began walking toward the dance club. My feet were throbbing and we were fading fast, so we mutually agreed to nix the dancing and continue the burlesque show at home. I drunkenly danced for my man and proceeded to put him right to sleep! We made plans to continue the fun with brunch and shopping on Sunday.

Now it is Sunday and I am contently writing about my weekend of adventure, every so often glancing over at my sleeping man. It was a great weekend, one that reminded me of how much fun D and I can have when I make plans and he makes sure we are not enslaved to them, and one that continued to re-confirm my love of the city that has become my home.

Wrap-up of Week One

Quite a start if I do say so! I worked-out almost every day and lost 4 lbs, gaining 3 back over the weekend :..( I tried a new recipe and now know how to make Cannoli shells, if not the filling. I had a party, went out for drinks, met 10 new people and have been writing every day. I said yes to life this week and the results have been staggering. I am not losing site of my other goal though, trying to figure out my next career move. Though I am embracing life now, I always keep one eye on the horizon.

I suppose I should talk about the party. It ended up being nine of us in out strange motley crew! We have two paralegals, one lawyer, two finance guys, two lucky ladies in publishing, one gal whose job I just can't remember and Me. We are all in our mid to late twenties/ early thirties and we love to eat. I would say 7 out of 9 love to cook as well, though no one has a culinary degree. We all find our passion for the edible to be our salvation from the mundane realities and disappointments of our lives. One of the lovely publishing girls came up with our name, a name that falls just shy of pretension into the silly and ironic: Eating With Impunity (EWI for short)!

We EWI members sat and drank ten bottles of wine, laughed and shouted, and finally ended-up at an after party of sorts at the finance guys' loft. We were there to see the space and help him make fried risotto. K my co-founder, began snapping pictures and it was a great time! Looking at the pictures, I saw that I loomed about the other women. At first feeling quite amazonian, I began to smile. There I was with my pearls and red lipstick, boisterous and larger than life: I felt just like Julia! It didn't matter that I did not look petite or the thinnest of the girls, I was channeling my hero, a woman who was loved and adored for her vibrance and not her dress size. I probably sound a bit foolish, seeing as this "amazon" is only a size 4, but it is all relative, and this is New York!

My how things change! One week ago I was house sitting in the West Village, trying to figure out how to make my life more passionate, more full of laughter, more full of people and parties and new experiences. I shot for my eight weekly goals (I so hate that it is not a more rounded number, like 10!) and I tried to approach everything as an adventure or a story. It has been a bit exhausting, but strangely easy. Who knew my experiment would begin working so fast! I am well on my way to the life I want right now, but I am still in the dark about what to do next, I guess you can't expect to have it all in only one week.


Week One Goal List:
1. Daily Workout- 6 days
2. New Recipe - Fat Free Cannoli
3. New Writing- Blogger Article: cooking and cunnilingus
4. Dinner Party - EWI party
5. Social Event - Drinks with K.
6. New Connection - K. and the EWI's
7. New NYC Experience - Hell's Kitchen Flea Market
8. One Yes instead of No - I honestly don't think I made this one this week