Monthly Archives: January 2014

Snow day

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Today, we are expected to get somewhere between 8-12 inches of snow here in New York. Every time I looked out the window today, it was snow, snow, and snow… and plenty of wind. I made it to work but left a bit early to deal with the slow walk to and from the train, not to mention the train delays and chaotic traffic all over Manhattan streets. All I could hear walking through the snow were cars honking at each other, and all I could see were people jaywalking between vehicles in the middle of intersections and slipping and sliding everywhere.

I also had two different people bail on me for dinner plans this week, one for snow reasons, and the other for who-knows-what. Another thing about living in New York – you have to deal with the fact that people in general can be flaky, especially when the weather gets really bad. Sometimes, it’s justified (as in, bailing when you know there may be up to 12 inches of snow the night you planned to eat dinner out), and other times, when your friend is cancelling on dinner two days in advance without giving any reason at all, you know it’s because you got passed up for what they perceived to be a better time.

I guess this is a good way to tell whether your friend really wants to see you or not. It’s also a good time to re-evaluate why you are friends with this person at all.

Oh, Manhattan

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Sometimes, I get exasperated at the costs of living in Manhattan. I realize (and am repeatedly reminded) that by global standards, New York City is not that expensive, but given that I have only lived in the U.S., this is a pretty damn expensive place to be. I’ve learned two annoying things in the last two days:

1. I’ve decided to start scrapbooking again, and Michael’s crafts store has always been my favorite crafts store. When I did a search to find their coupons on their website, I find out that the weekly coupon is 20% off in Manhattan, whereas in Queens, where I used to live, it is 40%. Apparently, I can’t save as much money if I live in Manhattan.

2. I recently used my Working Advantage employee discount to purchase $7 Regal Entertainment Group movie tickets. When we went to use the passes to get tickets to see Wolf of Wall Street today, there was an additional $2.50 per ticket surcharge – but only in Manhattan. I guess I forgot to read the fine print before I purchased 10 of these. At least I have my AMC passes, which have no surcharge.

These are tiny complaints, but there’s no logical reason why either of these cases have to screw me over just because I am living in Manhattan.

Resolutions

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Chris and I have spent the last day organizing our lives – our cabinets, our files, my clothes, our backup drives and digital photos. It’s been an exhausting process, but now, it’s finally done. Now, I can use some of that organizing for the scrapbook I will be putting together that will showcase our life together.

One thing of many that Chris and I share is that we are both very goal-driven. Just for 2014, we spent a weekend working on goals, and not just a list of five or ten, but goals by category (some examples are self-improvement, work, education, books to read, volunteering/charity, New York activities, travel priorities, photography). It’s crazy to revisit this list, which we will be doing at least once a month on our own and together, but it’s one way that we motivate each other to be better people and to be true to our words, and ultimately to ourselves.

Happy

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Last night, I celebrated my birthday with Chris and five good friends at Banc in Murray Hill. A friend who came initially gave me a hard time about the place I chose, but I insisted that my only criteria were a) guaranteed table where everyone had a seat and b) reasonably priced drinks. Our group will create its own ambiance, and I didn’t need a super swanky place to have a good time.

It was a really fun night, and a night where I could actually say that everyone seemed to get along despite coming from different parts of my life, and it made me really happy to see it. All night, all I could think was how grateful I was to have these people in my life, after all these years and after all the drama that we’ve been through together. I’m happy that I can speak loudly, laugh hysterically, swear, hate on women (and men), and do whatever it is that I do, and still at the end of the day, be loved by all these people. I’m a really lucky person.

28

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Today marks 28 years since my mother’s water suddenly broke at her office, and she was rushed to the hospital to give birth to little me. Sometimes, I look at myself in the mirror and think I am incredibly immature, and other times, I think, how have I only been around for the small number of years that have passed?

The last year has been different for me in a lot of ways. I’ve noticed shadows on my face that I’ve never seen before, and even traces of tiny lines on my forehead that mark that I’m no longer “so young.” I’ve noticed wrinkles on my best friends’ faces. I realized I gained weight, then worked rigorously to lose it, and now am maintaining a more active life. For the first time when discussing marriage and children, I’ve actually had people say to me, “yeah, you still have a few more years.” Just a few more years, huh? Just two years ago, these same people were saying I had a “lot” of time!

It’s strange what a difference just a year can make in your life when it comes to how people perceive you. Maybe that’s why a lot of people don’t like to share their age. I never thought I’d be the type of person who would refuse to share her age no matter how old I got, but for the first time, I can actually empathize with them. I still won’t do it, though. I don’t want to be full of crap and pretend to be something I’m not. I am who I am. Everyone else can deal with it.

Here’s to hoping that in my 28th year, even if the shadows on my face persist and gradually become fine lines, that this is a better year than this last year was, and that it is free of pain and needless negativity.

No call

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About a year ago, for the very first time, my brother did not acknowledge my birthday. Ed was always very loving and generous, the kind of person who gave too much to people who didn’t always care for him as much. So it was surprising when my 27th birthday passed, and he didn’t even give me a call to wish me a happy birthday. It’s not so much the gift that I really cared about; it’s the fact that he didn’t even reach out to me that day.

So on the 18th of January last year, I called him and asked him why he didn’t call me the day before. He sounded sheepish and said that he knew it was my birthday, but since he wasn’t making much money anymore, he didn’t send a gift. I told him I didn’t ask him about why there was no gift; I was asking why he didn’t call me. I guess that should have been the first sign to me that something was seriously not right with him at that point. I just didn’t think about it that deeply then.

Now, he’s never going to wish me a happy birthday in any way ever again. It’s not even when holidays like Thanksgiving or Christmas pass, or even his date of birth or date of passing; even on days like my birthday, I will think of him and feel a little guilty that the last birthday of mine that he was around to see, I gave him a hard time. I think about all the pointless “what ifs” regarding things I may have been able to do to have helped him more and how I failed. I think about his 34th birthday that I was trying to plan that never happened, and how he won’t be here for my 28th, 38th, or 78th birthday.

I wonder if he is in heaven looking down, wondering what kind of birthday cake I am going to eat tomorrow. He probably wants a piece of it if it’s chocolate or mocha. Maybe he actually is wishing me a happy birthday in his own way now. I guess I will never really know for sure, but I do miss him.

Parents’ love

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I think that most kids want to think one day, when they get married, buy their first (or second or third) home, have kids, and go through other various stages of their adult life that they hope and envision their parents will be there for them. They may be separated by distance, but the general dream I think we all have is that they will be alive and well and here to be happy and proud of us. This is how I’ve always imagined things happening and what I do genuinely want.

The scary thing, though, is that we can’t always control for everything that happens in life. So in the back of my own mind, I always feel a little scared every now and then that by the time I can do any of these things that it may be too late. And sadly, I’ve thought about it a lot more since Ed left us last summer. My dad and I were having a pretty frank discussion tonight about planning for the future, and I was trying to explain to him that I am grateful for his and my mom’s support throughout my childhood, for paying for my college education, for continuing to provide for me in different ways even since I started working, but I definitely do not want him skimping out on his own life and enjoyment now, thinking that he needs to provide for me when the day comes when he may no longer be here. “Well, Yvonne, remember, you can use that money towards a down payment on a house.” He reminded me how expensive it is to buy a house now in a major metropolitan area, and how much more expensive it is than when he was my age. DAD! I scolded him. “I’m not depending on your leaving this world for me to do that! And by the way, you’re not going anywhere. You are going to be here when I pay for my own down payment with my own money and buy a house, so don’t talk like that!”

I could immediately feel my eyes water a bit when I said this. My dad always feels like he has to provide for all of us forever until we die; he felt this way about Ed, too, without ever telling him. I told Ed, though. I could tell Ed felt some guilt when he heard this. I guess that’s just my dad’s masculine side coming out – his need to be a provider. He hasn’t always been the best with words, but in actions, that’s how he shows his love.

Third visit

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Today, I went to see my therapist for the third time after a long period of not seeing her at all due to travel, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. We talked about the trips I’ve taken and spoke in detail about my feelings around Christmas time with Chris’s family. We also discussed why the idea of marriage does not seem to excite me the way it used to.

We came to the conclusion that in the same way that being around Chris’s happy, functional family is a reminder of how dysfunctional and miserable my own family is, perhaps the idea of planning my future wedding would also be a reminder of how happy his family would be for me, whereas my extended family probably wouldn’t care much and would be too cheap to go to whatever location we decided on. It’s kind of twisted since I should be happy that this family I am being welcomed into is so loving and accepting of me, but I can’t just be “normal” and just accept how easy this all is so quickly, right? Sometimes when you might want something, when you get it, you may not have your arms as wide open as you originally thought. But it takes another level of self-understanding to accept it. It will take some time, but I think I deserve to be happy.

“Work”

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I had a chat with the instructor for one of my gym classes this morning. We were talking about what we’ve been doing since we last saw each other before Christmas. While I soaked up summer and warmth in Australia, she was hard at work for almost the entire month. She owns her own fitness and nutrition company, and apparently December is also a very busy month for that industry. I guess January isn’t the only busy month, with all these people making new year’s resolutions to get in shape and lose weight. I commented how dedicated she was, and she responded, “I love what I do, so it never feels like work.”

I can see how rewarding it would be to help people make goals to ultimately become healthier and more fit. I think it would be a great feeling knowing that you helped change someone’s lifestyle to improve the quality of their life. At the same time, even if the work I did was my one true passion and calling in life, I know I would still have greater enjoy in spending time with Chris, my family, and friends, while eating, drinking, playing games, and doing things that would never in any society be considered “work.” How great it would be if I could get paid to spend time with my loved ones. I guess we can only dream.

Portion sizes

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Today, I spent a great majority of the day tending to different components of the lasagna bolognese we had for dinner. Including prep and simmering time, the bolognese sauce itself took over five hours, and that doesn’t even include the time spent on grating fresh parmesan (Chris does a good job of this), parboiling fresh lasagna noodles, constantly stirring whole milk bechamel, lasagna assembly, and finally the baking for about 40 minutes. This 9-inch-by-13-inch lasagna is supposed to yield 12 servings, yet Chris suggested that in some families, this may likely only yield about half given the massive portion sizes people eat these days. If I labored over something for 8-9 hours, I really hope it would last more than one or two meals. I don’t run a Blue Apron type of show here where even just 30 minutes of my time will only yield two servings. The more time I am spending on something, the bigger the yield should be to make that time worth it.

Then I thought about potential dinner parties that would be thrown. You can’t really control the portion sizes that people have; if your guests want more food, you can’t deny them of it. That would be a very mean host thing to do. Then it makes me think that I probably shouldn’t make something as time consuming as lasagna for a dinner party. That sounds selfish, but I love these leftovers. And if I had nothing left at the end of a dinner, I’d be so, so sad.