Oh Portland

As a sporadic symptom of ongoing anxiety, I tend to over prepare for the possibility of becoming homeless. I often times will think to myself or comment aloud when I see suitable shelter, food options, or places I would shower if I am ever in need. In fact I had  recently selected the perfect alcove within some scaffolding across the street from my office to be my homeless nook, which has since been removed, but I digress. My newest discovery in the art of being sans home is Portland, Oregon.

During a recent business trip I have discovered this would be the perfect haven for those finding themselves dwelling within the streets. First and foremost: climate. I was only there for 3 days, but it was perfectly warm and dry, which is a plus when you are sleeping outside and don’t have regular access to an ice bath. Secondly, there are lots of trees and grass. I would just need to invest in a tent and I am pretty sure I could sustain myself on many a grassy knoll throughout the city. Other important factors include; a multitude of eating and drinking establishments and affable residents leaving said establishments, which favorably influence the possibility for leftovers and friendly banter.

Overall I think I would enjoy living on the streets of Portland more than most cities. The overarching plus is definitely the cleanliness factor. It appears that composting, free range hipsters keep a clean city and although I would prefer my heavenly bed, if I were forced to the streets, for now I would choose Portland’s.

Not to get political but...

It's been a while. I was going to blog about what makes Portland, Oregon so great. Or why music is so important. Until suddenly, I was under political attack by my Parents’ (now my Dad’s) friends. Why would I be voting for whom I plan to vote in November? Not surprisingly, I had an answer and they did not. I do not need to get into for whom I plan to vote. It is obvious since everyone who reads this knows me. The thing that scares me is that so many people do not plan to vote.

I beg of you. Please vote. I clearly would love for you to vote on my side, but mostly I want people to stand behind his or her beliefs. Tonight I was asked why I planned to vote for my candidate. And sadly it was in an aggressive versus a conversational manner. I have an interesting stance. I have been given a lot.  I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth by any means, but I have not had to ask for much. I have received an Ivy League education and a summer home, luxuries most do not receive. And my parents worked extremely hard, from the ground up to give them to me.

Did they give their blood, sweat, and tears to make this happen? Definitely. Were there government programs in place to help them along the way to help them? Absolutely. I am for the people. I have always been for the people. And I will always be for the people. I will never agree that American citizens do not need assistance to help them sustain themselves. Of course I believe in Capitalism. If you work hard you should be able to get ahead. But everyone is not given a level playing field and I believe our government is what can help America make us the country that everyone talks about. The place where you can achieve the American Dream.

I believe in America. I don’t believe in hypocrisy. Please think about what matters most to you and who you truly think can make that happen.  And most of all remember cocktail party etiquette and leave the politics, religion, and money behind.

C'est la vie. C'est la guerre.

In an effort to reintegrate our Catholic faith into our lives, my family has built a bond with a priest in CT. He has offered much solace during an otherwise hectic and tumultuous time. One statement he made that has provided much comfort is that we should look for signs of my mom’s spirit around us. I have found her to be present in many ways from rainbows to constellations and  acts of coincidence and fate.  I realized I took it a bit too far when I became convinced her spirit ate my bacon on Sunday. But I miss her, I can’t help it. And maybe that means I am looking to hard, but  I am starting to realize that she won’t be around to do the things that used to make me laugh or maybe even cause annoyance.

I’ll never forget the time my mom helped me move into an apt in Florida and then we decided to check out a local hotel bar with an alleged amazing rotating view of the city. However, when we arrived it became evident this was now event space and longer a functioning bar. We discovered this as an employee informed us of such upon our entrance, however of course my mom wanted to check it out. It turned out to be a Native American tribal reunion at which each attendee was fully decked out in traditional dress and clearly of Native American descent. Although we were two pale white ladies in shorts and Capri pants,  she was convinced we could just blend in and “enjoy the music”. Of course I was humiliated, but humored the same and secretly had a blast jamming out to  a super zealous flautist. I loved that she was up for anything. As always, she was flexible where I was tentative.

She would often say “c’est la vie, c’est la guerre”, amongst several other random sporadic French statements, left over from the French nuns of her childhood. I believe the loose meaning is “such is life such is war.” She rolled with the punches, even the final punch in the most graceful possible way. Flexibility was always her way,  where I am unwillingly ruffled by the twists and turns life invariably produces.

Another amazing trait possessed by my mom was her desire to listen. I am not saying she always succeeded, there were times when she would inevitably have to tune out the 10^th time in a row I called crying about a rodent or pest or the in depth description of a mundane task performed at work. However, mostly she had the rare desire to hear about your day, savor it, and most likely ask you to repeat it to her friends later if she found it amusing. This would drive me crazy, as I would fear the joy she received from my tales wouldn’t carry over to others and often times I would balk at her request. Needless to say I wouldn’t mind repeating things a few more times. I miss you and love you, these hydrangeas are for you woman.  

Is entrepreneurship dead?

A few weeks ago, as I strolled along the beach in CT with my father, we encountered a young girl handing out flyers for her lemonade stand down the street. I read the sheet and was immediately outraged. Her “Lemonade Stand” would be open that day from 1-3- or maybe longer. 

“Maybe longer??” I shouted into the wind. “Where has the work ethic gone?” I spewed in disgust to my father. We joked about this for a few paces more. Would she be donating the money to a local charity I hope- we teased- due to her swanky address. 

But seriously- my childhood enterprise was way better than this lazy little sprite, with her fluctuating hours. It all began with two scrappy girls and an idea. An idea that we could pick up shells and other treasures from the beach and the world would buy them from us at our home storefront. We called it The Shell Stand and after a few successful years we expanded into the restaurant world with the launch of the ME muffin café.

The  premise behind the ME (aptly named after Marissa and Emily) Muffin Café is that we would scrape together $1 a week essentially to purchase a box of Jiffy Muffin Mix, which my mom would then bake for us, and then we would resell them to her and my business associate’s parents on a daily basis.  We also sold them coffee they made. We worked long hard hours, for less than minimum wage and I think it truly was one of the pivotal experiences in my life that shaped me into the person I am today.

Is this drive and determination lost on the current generation? Perhaps I should start a mentoring program… or we may all be at a loss for lemonade.

Reality Check

Have you ever sat back and compared your pre-planned future with its present reality? I am in constant awe of the passage of time and how seemingly little things change, while all the while my reality has been astronomically altered. Did I think this is what my life would have been like as a doe eyed lass? Did I realize I wouldn’t actually be a famous actress, veterinarian, or astronaut? No, but I also never received any sort of psychic certification so I kind of had that coming.

As what I like to call a “practical dreamer”, I don’t tend to look too much on the past, I am more of a forward thinker, however I find myself in a state of contemplation of late. Although I may not be spending my time sans gravity ,as I may have dreamed at one point, I also never could have predicted I would have a life filled with such amazing individuals, some of whom have been a part of it for many years and many monumental moments.

Although I need to work harder at taking advantage of all of the opportunities that surround me, especially in the amazing city that is New York, I do feel extremely lucky. I live in one of the world’s greatest cities in an apartment I can almost afford. I have even explored many cultural happenings such as purchasing illegal margaritas in the outlying sections of Central Park during Summer Stage, posing as art dealers at the Frieze Art Fair (mostly for free champagne), and most importantly traversed to Brooklyn for several delights involving Tikis, Discos, and other delicious treats. If it is at all possible, I will uncover new jewels I am sure.

In other news due to airport security and increased internet privacy rumors I have determined to phase out my usage of the phrase da bomb, however I am replacing it with a more universally friendly I be jammin’. Neither really make much sense in my day-to-day conversation, however life always seems a little better with ill placed out of date jargon. Peace. Out.

Things My Mom Taught Me

A few years ago I had a blog. I never really wrote about much and I basically only had one reader, my mom. Actually I had a few more based on knowledge attained by nerding out to some Google analytics., but regardless, I stopped writing for a while. I was having a hard time finding life to be amusing enough to warrant commentary. Now, having recently lost my main reader and supporter, I would like to remember her here and often and resurrect my once beloved blog. To be succinct, my mom was the best. A lot of people may consider their mom their best friend and I am definitely in that camp, but she far surpassed that role. Beyond giving birth to me, for which I am truly grateful, she was my number one supporter and fan. She was my motivator, my therapist, my teacher, and my stand up comedian. She had an absolutely amazing ability to know exactly which hat to wear when I needed it just by the tone of my voice. So I called often. It may not be the coolest admission, but I have always preferred my mom’s company (and Dad’s but this post is about Mom) to many others and before she got sick they were always on the invite list to each of my swinging gatherings. My mom was also amazingly quirky, while simultaneously getting along with almost every person she encountered. Below are some of my favorite Mom-isms that I will plan bestow upon my own offspring. I share them here so that you may perhaps glean something from her knowledge as well.

1.“Life is not fair.” – This one is painfully true, but always allowed me to keep it somewhat real. Before things got real…

2.“Find your passion.” A realist, my mom always pushed me to realize that life is too short not to follow your passion.

3.“The writing is on the wall” Said realism allowed my mother to offer complete clarity on any given situation. “It is pretty black and white- if he doesn’t bring you soup when you have mono, the writing is on the wall. He’s just not that into you.” She could and should have written that book and movie.

4.“If you don’t want to go out, just tell your friends you have a bad period.” This mentioned in a previous post and was some of the most hilarious and awkward advice I have ever received, however my mom was always super helpful in getting me out of things I didn’t want to do. And usually without using the aforementioned suggested embarrassing excuse.

5.“Okay what really happened?” My mom was quite perceptive and knew I tend to twist the truth to cast a more favorable glow over myself at times. She never would take a biased side and pretty much always knew when I was in the wrong. Pure honesty was always delivered. This went with clothing shopping as well.

Above all, my mom made me the person I am today, and more important still, the person I want to become. I am sure more of this sage wisdom will surface throughout the days and months, as I continue to remember my mom and I am sure everyone has some gems from their own family. Enjoy them, savor them, and remember them.

heat delirium.

Today as I was lying in a pool of communal semi anonymous sweat, my Bikram instructor informed me that, as humans, we can either choose that life is hard or choose that life is good. As I lay there praying for her to shut up so I could escape the 110 degree heat, I deciphered she had a solid point. However since she continued and I had more time to mull/ nearly lose consciousness I determined she is ultimately wrong, one does not choose that life is hard OR good. One might be able to choose to be happier, but ultimately life is hard, there is no doubt about it, and that is partially what makes it so good.

This past weekend I was taken back to a time when life was easy, College. At my five-year reunion I reflected on times when the world was literally my oyster. Life was so good that when it was all over I was literally carried off of campus kicking, screaming, and hysterically crying. Let’s just say the only reason I left willingly is because I was bribed with cheese and champagne. The point is, I thought my life was over once college came to a close and even though things have been substantially harder since then, it is pretty difficult for me to consent that life isn’t good. Life was much easier then, but I would rather be the person I am today than go back.

“Real” life is filled with “real” problems. Nary a day goes by that isn’t inflicted with bills, jobs, and disease, issues that are extremely difficult to navigate. But as the old cliché goes, “your greatest suffering is also your greatest joy” or something along those lines. There are also great friends and family to help you through the bad days and celebrate the good ones. And there is champagne. So in sum, Bikram doesn’t know everything, but it does feel good to sweat off a weekend of gluttony. And although I don’t necessarily agree with today’s closing sentiment, I do believe in optimism. So although it might not be easy- here is hoping the best is yet to come!

Shit My Parents Say

You've probably heard of Shit My Dad Says- it's an extremely popular blog and I think they might have made it into some sort of feature film. Anyway, my parents are also quite hilarious, and in the vein of things that make me happy, here are a few recent parent-isms that have me laughing. I have broken them into categories for ease of skimming.

Problem Solving
Me: “Mom I don’t want to go out tonight.”
My Mom: “Eh just tell them you have a really bad period”
Me: “Yeah Mom- I am not going to say that to anyone…ever.”

Current Events
Me: “Mom isn’t it crazy about Bin Laden?”
My Mom: “I know! Didn’t they look gorgeous?”
Me: “Mom I am talking about Bin Laden, terrorist leader, being
killed… not the royal wedding.”


Wedding Planning
My Dad: “So we have a couple of different ideas for the
rehearsal dinner, either an art gallery with passed hors d'oeuvres and a jazz quartet or we can go out on a lobster boat and do a harbor cruise.”
Me: “Dad I am so glad we are prepared with this information, but you realize I don’t even have a boyfriend right?”

Watching TV
My Mom: “Let’s Watch Gigolo.” (Pronounced Giggalo)
Me: “Mom is that appropriate what is it about?”
My Dad: “It’s about women that pay men for sex, Marissa”
Me: “Oh well that doesn’t really happen does it?”
My Dad: “Yes Marissa you are 26 years old you are now old enough to know about these kinds of things”
ME: “Okay so we are sure this is a family appropriate show?”
One minute and several severely awkward seconds later
My Mom: “Nope not appropriate.”

A little more happy.

I figured I have to at least perform two consecutive weeks of this happiness journaling so I will now share a few things this week past that brought a little smile to my lips.

1.The sidewalk hosing has commenced, which = Spring!!! I think I even saw someone washing a car!
2.I got my hands dirty with an Earth Day project for work. Feeling soil on my hands brought me back to my vegetable garden glory days. Uncovering sewage within a planting pot was only a mild obstacle to landscaping ecstasy.
3.A Fantastic Easter Sunday. Champagne? Check. Caviar? Check? Family including a baby niece who has nearly tripled in size? Check! What more could a gal want…well I can think of a few things, but it was a great day nonetheless.
4.Stephen Colbert’s rendition of The Friday Song/The Friday song in general. I may be about two months late on this and it may not be appropriate to have these feelings, but I can’t help but love this girl and her terrible terrible song. It almost makes me like braces.

little joy.

My library card has lent itself to a variety of self-help books in the past few months, most of which I have enjoyed more than I am proud to admit. The most recent is entitled The Happiness Project. The author goes through a yearlong process to amplify the happiness she already feels in her everyday life. Anyway I don’t need to take a year to do this, although it seems lovely, but I did like that she began to journal about the things that bring her joy in the day to day. I have a friend who does this as well and I have toyed with the idea of starting as well to become more positively focused.

I stop throughout the day with regularity to point out the things that mildly annoy me, but rarely do I dedicate as much time to acknowledge those that make me happy. I want to start by stating that what I am most grateful for is my family, friends, the fact that I am not suffering financially, etc. This will never change, except for the last part if I end up homeless. This exercise is focused on smaller instances or discoveries that are smaller in scale, but collectively contribute to my greater happiness. The author of the book realized that a daily exercise was ultimately mundane and unrealistic in upkeep so I will start with just a few nice moments from the first week.

Week 1.

•Pretty Flowers- I enjoyed a long walk with a good friend through the Conservatory Garden in Central Park on Sunday. I wish I could have an English tea party there for the rest of my life.
•Fun Weather- Tuesday thunder and lightening upon my exit of the 6 train, which felt very ominous and dramatic. For a second I felt like I might be electrocuted, but I wasn't so it all worked out.
•Holy Broadway- two free shows in one week? And I didn’t even have to cry in public to get tickets? Life is getting pretty special.
•Impromptu puppy discovery- I got to pet a baby Newfoundland pup for a solid 3 minutes. Soft as silk. Sorry BJ.

I am pretty sure I won't keep this up, but if I do I am sure it will be very warm and fuzzy. Get psyched.

trying to get my mind right.

In College – free-style battles were sometimes a welcomed respite from a somewhat tense environment. We would gather outside in sub-zero temperatures, huddling for the dual purpose of gaining warmth and beat boxing. I am not claiming that our rhymes were noteworthy, but hip hop is something that has stayed with me and I wouldn’t say it has saved my life per se, but it has held a solid presence ever since.

At times misogynistic and homophobic, as a whole hip-hop represents survival, overcoming obstacles, and ultimately achieving success. I may not have ever sold rocks, nor do I find the need to sleep with a gat by my side, and somewhat fortunately I have no paper for which to be stuck. I do however have my own challenges to face daily for which I need strength to handle and a sweet beat in my ear helps me get through.

Each day you compel me run a little faster, work a little more productively, and relatively speaking, calm my weathered nerves. I guess in a way hip-hop HAS saved my life. So for that I thank you gentleman (and ladies).

strike that. reverse it.

Upon further reflection I realized I don't really ever mock society. All I do is blog about why I can blog no more. I guess that is kind of a silly use of the internet, but at least I am not posting horribly offensive content on Youtube. The blog shall go on.

Hiatus from blogging in the form of a haiku.

Life got serious
And to mock society
Feels too frivolous.

Additionally- last week I walked out the door wearing an entirely different earring on each ear and this morning I washed my face after I had fully put on a face of make-up. It has become apparent that I am in no position to judge others or craft witticism. When I am in a state to do so I shall return.

What I can leave you with is this. I promise it will enrich your life.

New Year, New Me? Probably Not.

I typically love the holidays, based on its propensity for festive beverages, wassailing, and overall spirit of merrymaking. Overindulgence is overlooked, gifts are exchanged, and celebration is constant. However, once the New Year has been introduced, reconciliation for these indiscretions must commence. And that is where I take issue with the holidays.

This year my major initiative is to prepare a list of feasible resolutions. I have determined three is a manageable number. They are as follows.

1. Reduce stress. This could potentially translate to more yoga, Pilates, meditation, etc. It could also mean try to stop having aggressive outbursts in public…
2. Consume less cheese sauce. This came about when I realized for three days straight about 75% of my meals involved some so form of liquefied cheese “product”. This is obviously a problem on several levels….
3. Do more stuff. This might suggest that I experience more of NYC such as museum exhibit, new restaurants, new boroughs, new volunteer opportunities. More likely it will include experiencing more happy hours. We shall see.

So there you have it 2011. Hit me with your best shot, I know there is nothing but goodness to come! With resolutions like these how can I go wrong? Happy New Year Everyone!

life is beautiful.

For those that know me well, (yes I do live under the deluded notion that other people potentially read this blog) you know that my life has been a little hectic of late. The amazing portion is that I’ve recently experienced the miracle of a perfect angel entering the world. The fact that two weeks ago my little baby niece was just a concept to me and today she is a miniature human wearing the gifts I purchased for her months ago has thrown me for a loop. The best loop ever!!!!! So I am clearly in a very emotional overly sentimental mood currently. Here are more things that exist in life that I also find mind blowing, although much less meaningful than procreation.

Hibernation- especially since I can take neither the bitterness of outside nor the extreme oppressive heat of my apartment sign me up for a season long nap!!!!!

Metamorphosis- I had an odd fascination with tadpoles as a child

Root Vegetables- Hello buried treasures! Might have something to do with that wonderful book The Carrot Seed, another childhood fixation.

Beehives- Matriarchal society? Delicious honey? Count me in!

Meteor Showers- Now if only my wishes would come true…

There are millions of things I could mention here that are equally amazing; we’ve all seen the National Geographic specials. Since we are heading into the dredges of winter, i.e. my regularly scheduled depression, you may hear more from me or less. And although I am vowing not to succumb to the winter blues this year, I promise to return either way in the spring when the sunshine is back!

hot.mess.

On a recent trip of self- discovery I have uncovered the fact that I am a stress eater. Having never truly faced high levels of stress I have always assumed that I am fond of food and consumption in general, this affection tied to no particular theme overall. Our family joke is that we feed everything. We feed a fever. We feed a cold. We feed to celebrate and to comfort. All of this is true and equates to a lot of eating, however, in recent months I have noted intake levels accelerating to a level technically classified as through the roof.

Today while reflecting for a moment, I pondered to myself. “Why can’t I be one of those people that when faced with adversity finds solace in green tea and poetry and obscure yoga poses versus the girl that is continually called out by the pizza guy for my insatiable appetite?” This I do not know, but what I do know is that I better figure out this thing called a balanced life soon. Or else I will know what I will be asking for from Santa. More spandex leggings! On a different note, I hope everyone has a beautiful Thanksgiving with loved ones. Enjoy!

The Return of The Mousekewitzes

For one and a half blissful years, I’ve been with feline and rodent free. Who knows if it is the new digs or the newly acquired pet, but life has been grand. Until a few nights ago when I heard an all too familiar rustle under my kitchen sink. I performed my normal denial techniques. “It could be water dripping or something settling within my garbage can”, I thought to myself tentatively. I even hoped for a roach, but in my heart I knew the rodents had infiltrated my haven.

Needless to say I was devastated and NO the adoration of rodents within the animated world did not assist in increasing my comfort level in hosting them within my abode. Sorry Feivel, but there actually ARE cats in the new world and they WILL eat you. I am happy to drop you off for the next flight back to the Old Country. And until a little furball actually whips me up an omelet, I am not making him feel welcome here. I have been out of town for a few days, but I better return to my previously pest free oasis. The only fuzzy friend I better see is an extra fat cat, although hopefully mice do not induce Feline diabetes.

airways ADHD flipout.

Today as I was flying home from Roanoke Virginia with my 8 other passengers I became instantly hyperactive in anticipation of the Gotham skyline. With face pressed against windowpane, I enveloped myself within amorous thoughts of the city when I realized that there are an exceptional number of baseball diamonds in any given landscape. I found it odd. But that makes way more sense then the need for Temperature Controlled LED Shower Head Light found in the US Airways Shopping Mall.

Step 1. Admit you have a problem

Hi, my name is Marissa and I have a cat. I adopted Beauty Jr. about a year and a half ago and since then the two of us have been tearing up NYC like a couple of maniacs. Prior to his acquisition I worried how my friends and family would react. Would fewer people want to come over once this fuzzy creature took reign? Would my new pet impact my relationships with those whom I love?

Ultimately I decided a kitty was a must and adopted the perfect orange angel to keep me company. Despite, his perfection I found myself quickly making excuses for his arrival into my life. Phrases such as “After my previous mouse infestation, I figured a cat was necessary” and “He is more like a dog than a cat” quickly rolled off my tongue after I would warn new acquaintances of his existence.

I speak of him often, but I am quickly ashamed for fear of being eternally shunned as a cat lady. Well world, although I know you already know this, I am a proud cat owner. I love dogs as well, but unfortunately my studio does not accommodate this adoration. BJ fills my life would just the right amount of warmth, affection, and fuzziness. And hey, the fact that he takes care of pests is also quite convenient. If I get a couple more felines, feel free to intervene, but for now, just embrace it!

i love books.

The other day I found myself nestled up with a borrowed book. It was older and I delighted in the smell of its aging pages. The aroma instantly conjured images of me as a tot attending Teddy Bear picnics at my local library. The book smelled historic and important. It made an otherwise rainy day, nostalgic and charming. This feeling was because of the novel, but it was more about the feeling of the book, its weight in my hand, the feeling of turning the pages, and overwhelmingly the aroma.

It occurred to me after I reveled in this experience for a bit (I know life in the fast lane) that this might become one of those experiences that becomes obsolete. The world is tentatively adapting to a sleeker future adorned with ipads, kindles, and nooks. I am a very tactile person, but I have accepted many conveniences as such. Similarly, I enjoy the process of a record player, lifting the needle, placing the record, dusting it, and hearing the crackle of the first chords. However, I walked away from my record player years ago.

During this thrilling revelatory period, I began to realize there are certain details of my children’s childhood that will differ extremely from my own. For example they will never yearn for the brown nosing task of clapping chalkboard erasers nor will they find the need get up in the middle of a test to sharpen a pencil. They also probably won’t learn how to write cursive or be hugged by their teachers. For whatever reason, that freaked me out for a substantial amount of time. Then I realized so many other scary things are destroying childhood, which is probably going to force me to raise my kids in a hippie commune anyway, so they probably will have chalkboards and real books. And that made me feel both better and worse at the same time. Happy Monday!