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!

Dropping knowledge. Taking down flies.

I learned a few things this past week. I will share them with you now so that I can spread knowledge like the “More you know” shooting star.

1. Gym class humiliation is easily reignited by drinking games. There are two kinds of people in this world. Those that liked gym class and those that despised it. Shockingly, giant alabaster Marissa is part of the latter group of people. I know I may have some people fooled that I am the picture of athleticism, however I will admit my coordination is touch and go and I always have had my nagging heat disorder. These two factors combined with social awkwardness and lack of flexibility made for many uncomfortable years sporting filthy mesh jerseys and dangling on ropes like a disoriented sloth. Lets just say a few Sundays ago I was hanging from that rope once again, but replace the rope with a beer. I was last, people were staring, I was neon. Fortunately, we just moved onto the next game and I didn’t get a C- for my poor performance.

2. Although it may be mildly more amusing/baffling when I think the vegetable man is repeatedly saying the word penis, the relief provided by the discovery that the word in question is actually spinach, far outweighs any potential humor. I didn’t want to have to cross another food source off of the list of places I can shop. And I also learned that they do not have spinach in Bangladesh!

3. A working cat is the best cat. A few renegade flies entered the premises yesterday evening and have been swarming around like they own the place ever since. They might have enjoyed the time in Chez Marissa, however tonight my badass cat laid down the law with a swat of his giant paw and I watched it happen. I know there has been more critter action that he has tended to, but I don’t need too many details. All I know is that it is impossible that kitty has gotten this fat from the measly dry food I feed him. This is one don’t ask don’t tell policy that I support!

i'm phasing out the listening.

It’s fairly well known that I need to live a bit more dangerously. I am not talking about foraying into anything really serious, but I am thinking less pastel and more eyeliner. So although I don’t want to completely toss my life into disarray, it would be nice to recognize a celebrity or be able to stay up past midnight without turning into a pumpkin on occasion.

I say this fairly regularly, yet I find that I have a hard time truly changing my behavior. And though certain things have contributed to my less than edgy image, cat, library card acquisition, sleepy tendencies, etc. I think there is one overarching cause for my condition.

My love for Frasier was spawned out of necessity. I was living alone in Florida at the time and had a propensity for late night crime television programming. I was continuously left with the need to be coddled back into a feeling of safety strong enough to allow myself to sleep. I quickly tired of The Cosby Show, didn’t care much for Friends, and I can’t really stand Raymond. Never a Frasier fan pre-syndication, I never thought I would appreciate it now. However quickly I was swept away with its sharp vocabulary and witty banter. The episodes followed one another so fluidly and the subject matter was always PG.

Quickly I fell in love and soon grew dependent on it for slumber. And that is where I am a few years later. Kelsey Grammer opens his arms to me nightly, cloaked in his gigantic knit sweaters he cradles me into a sweet cocoon of sleep and as much as I revel in this, I think it has become mildly unhealthy. So friends, I think Frasier and I shall take a slight hiatus until I can step up media consumption. Wish me luck.

apple picking anyone?

Labor Day might technically commemorate some strike or labor uniony type situation, however for most it actually honors the end of summer and launch of autumn. To me it is the end of summer Fridays and the launch of a horrible series of months during which I am forced to don pants and leave my summer dresses behind. During this time I feel lost and confused and enter a disheveled state fueled purely by mulled cider and seasonal drugstore displays.

Actually, in all honesty although I do mourn the end of summer bliss, I cherish the days of fall most of all seasons. The cooler air allows for a clear head and the anticipation of the holidays and slew of parties that ensue create enough joy and excitement to keep me distracted through Valentine’s Day. I will then historically enter into a three to four month debilitating seasonal affective depression, upon which I will elaborate in a few months when I am well within its clutches.

I love Fall for many reasons. Fall is for crafting cornucopias and eating snack sized candy. It is for turtlenecks and leggings and gathering wood for fires. So when my sister began ordering pumpkin spice lattes this weekend on our road trip to Cape Cod I verbally scorned her premature dismissal of summer, but simultaneously relished in this occurrence. Even though I sporadically attempt to avoid carbohydrates, fall is full of them and once I spot even the slightest twinge death descending upon a stray leaf, I yearn for whoopie pies and pumpkin bread, apple dumplings, and maple candies. If it has cinnamon and nutmeg on it, I will most likely try to consume it. I am filled with a desire to be continually mulling cider and wine, while crafting wreaths of dried flowers and berries. Fall is basically the culmination of all things I love in the world.

So this past weekend I said goodbye to summer with a final trip to the Cape and a final clamming excursion. And although we were celebrating a lot more than the shifting season, Welcome Fall!

Hot Child in the City.

I am avid people watcher, which I would think is an unsurprising fact to most based on my over analytical and obsessive nature. While I am happy amidst the crowd, I am equally zealous to merely observe it. Fortunately for the world, this is how I am able to consistently provide such keen insights into daily life. As I mentioned in my previous post, my own personal life has been kicking along a pleasant rate this summer allowing me to pleasantly soak up the intricacies of New York City summers. Although these may or may not be unique to New York or summer for that matter, here are a few of my thoughts.

1.Street watering. I love how men are constantly hosing down the sidewalk. This has served me especially well when inadvertently sprayed during lengthy periods of heat advisories

2.Air drumming. I don’t know why the summer heat brings this out, but it seems as if any male at some given moment in his life engages in a solo air drumming session. It could be that summer allows itself to the more intense percussion or perhaps the heat releases an inner desire to accentuate the rhythms of Blink 182, but this both thrills and irritates me simultaneously.

3.Monster Mosquitoes. City dwelling mosquitoes clearly have a chip on their shoulder. Either they are pissed that they get the city gig versus the sands of either the Hamptons or the shore or perhaps the harsh streets have given them a bitter edge, but I have been consistently mauled all summer long only on weekends in the city. I am arming myself with Deet for any future run-ins so insects beware!

4.Improperly clothed people. Nothing bothers me more than people that overdress for warm weather. This summer has been so obscenely hot and humid that my wardrobe has literally been limited to three less than appropriate dresses. I wear as little as is somewhat socially acceptable, armed with several spritzer bottles filled with ice water and the occasional cloth to towel off during my travels. Here I am shvitzing the day away and then I turn over to see some emaciated chick clothed in a turtleneck, boots and a scarf. Seriously? It is 100 degrees out and you need a scarf? Eat a cookie!!!

All in all I love you summer. I love you in New York City and I love you everywhere else. Whether sporting my Lilly Pulitzer on the streets of Manhattan or the sands of the Cape, margaritas are just as delicious!

Negative Nelly.

Lately, I have been feeling pretty optimistic about life. I am young, employed, surrounded by the best friends a gal could want, in the best city in the entire world. I have been coasting through the summer enjoying the fruits of life nary a complaint in site. But fortunately, I am back to reality and I have once again been stumped by the apparent idiocy that is human nature.

On a recent night out I had the displeasure of meeting a very unfortunate individual. One so bad, I would nearly say he put a damper on my night. On the outside he seemed like someone to whom I would typically be drawn. Curly brown hair, tall, Jewish, glasses, and sketchy facial hair. However, within five minutes of conversation it became immediately apparent that this was indeed NOT my soul mate.

What did it? You ask. Was it his immediate expression of his love for lesbian porn mid introduction? Was it when he called me an idiot for living in Florida (admittedly true)? Was it when he racially profiled my friend? These were key signs, but it was when he openly admitted to wanting to rid the world of fat people I knew we were through.

Everyone knows I love a little bit of meat on everyone’s bones and although I am not promoting unhealthy lifestyles I love all things squishy. It was a rough Saturday night, but I did leave grateful for one thing. After an hour of painful “conversation”, I now know what types of generalizations I am willing to make. I do not like racist people. I do not like people that hate fat people. And overall, I especially do not like racist people that hate fat people. So for that, I thank you anonymous stranger!

Go Fish.

This Sunday night was host to one of my favorite kinds of meals. Filled with wine, my family, and freshly caught seafood. Dad had caught Striped Bass and dug a bucket of steamers the day before and Mom and I had filled out own bucket with quahogs. We feasted on our hand caught bounty under a sky filled with stars normally obscured by skyscrapers.

Maybe I listened to too much Phish in high school, but this night bestowed upon me a kind of hippie euphoria that only self-sufficiency can provide. It gives me a certain amount of pleasure to know that, without any kind of modern convenience, we gathered and produced our own meal. Barring of course the automobile and motorboat taken to procure our protein.

I guess one could say I do possess this bohemian agrestic nature that allows me to love the earth in this way. And really fresh fish. Okay so basically gardening and shell fishing are the only two hobbies I have had any real success at, so I am just going to roll with this. Can’t wait for Scallop and Oyster season to begin!