It's not goodbye.

I've just moved! I hope you continue to join me on my travels throughout this wild journey called life at hotelieblogger.com.

See you there!

So happy I am a sentimental pack rat.

As I was looking through old photos and cards in preparation for recent bridal event, I discovered one of many cards from my Mom. She was the queen of snail mail, sending cards throughout my adult life for any event large or small. The following (from my college years) is typical. 

This didn't show as clearly as I had hoped. It says "Hello- Nothing happened in Vermont AGAIN today. Goodnight."

Dear Marissa,

I can’t find what I bought you. Big surprise, huh? But when I do find it and mail it, look at it very carefully, especially the label because it is especially for you. Nothing new in CT, same as VT. Well only 16 more days to Valentine’s Day + only 11 more days to my special day + 2 more days until my special month. I hope everything is special with you. Your plant is groovy + misses you. Beauty misses you + Daddy and I miss you. Well now that I‘ve written you a card I hope you’re happy.

Love

Mother

This is such an embodiment of so many of her characteristics. Thoughtful, wacky, funny, and constantly losing presents. I was trying to remember if she ever ended up sending me the lost item. I couldn't recall,  but I am sure it was hilarious.

See something. Say something?

It recently became apparent to me that I am more paranoid about in tune to potential homicides than most.  It started innocently enough, when after being blown off by one guy or another I began to justify this sudden absence by assuming the man was in a coma. It was after I began to increase my Investigation Discovery consumption that I accelerated my justification of said rejection from coma to murder.

It became old hat for me to say, “Oh that guy? Haven’t heard from him, I am pretty positive he was the Long Island strangler anyway.” And as I type this, I still think this to be true. I guess the feeling of relief of having my life spared is meant to outweigh the annoyance at rejection? I don’t know…. I have issues. I am working on them. 

Apparently, all of this television watching combined with the belief that I exclusively date murderers, makes me feel like the female American version of Sherlock Holmes. This belief has forced me into a constant state of questioning whether I should be saying something about all of the potential criminals I am seeing throughout the streets of NYC, which is quite problematic because as paranoid as I might be, I dislike any type of authority figure beyond reason.  I am not necessarily proud of this fact, but at least I am aware of my weaknesses?

Anyway- so I am constantly paranoid and in denial about the fact that someone could ever not want to date me, you get it. But I have a point beyond that. This is basically a 2 part revelation.  Last week I had the great pleasure of going to Montreal for an unforgettable work experience. And I have to say those Canadians have it right.

Flying can be a pretty harrowing experience for most. But immediately after physically detaching our plane from LGA and entering a flight pattern towards Canada I could feel a tide shifting. People were friendly. And helpful. And that adorable little accent! I could just listen to flight attendants discuss safety procedures for days! The Canadians also know that a well timed drink (11 am on a Monday? Absolutely) is the way to this American’s heart! The French language, the cobblestone, and mostly that calm Canadian vibe, sold me on Montreal. I didn’t think anyone was going to murder me once! Although… I wasn’t there long enough to find someone to date and then reject me. Regardless I have drawn the conclusion that I am not overly anxiety prone, it’s New York!  Je t’aime Montreal. Je t’aime.

The love I have for rainbows is insane. I am not a mathematician but rainbows + Canadians= heaven. 

need.water.now.

This past July 4th was spent, as most past have been, on the Cape. Having spent nearly every summer, with the exception of a few, on Cape Cod for a better part of my life, it’s always good to be home. And I am not sure if it’s because I am a water sign or due to my aggressive hot flashes, but I am never happier and more comfortable than when by some large body of water.   Anyway, I was forced to come back to the sauna I call a home due to my obligation to work for a living post July 4^th and although the isle of Manhattan is surrounded by water by definition, my ability to be submerged in water is limited.

I’ve mentioned in the past that I have the good fortune to live just steps away from the ever classy John Jay Community Pool.  So imagine my surprise and delight when my best friend stopped by on Sunday and wanted to go for a swim. (Most times when I suggest a trip to the pool to friends, it is met with laughter. I am never kidding.)  As the words were out of her mouth I simultaneously donned my swimsuit and was ready to go.  I almost felt the same joy as when my parents would inform me of an upcoming trip to Disneyworld as a youth. (slash if I were to decide to go to Disneyworld right this minute.

Anyway, I’ll cut to the chase. This city is so damn hot we were rejected from the community pool.  Desperate, sweaty city dwellers were lined up for hours in wait as the shrieks and cheer of swimmers echoed from within the confines of the swimming area. I am so depressed. I never thought the day would come when I would be rejected from the community pool, but alas, new accommodations must be made. Fortunately there are options and I will be exploring them all. King and Grove, prepare your waters for me!

They say it's my birthday

So it’s my birthday.

I have never been a huge fan. It’s like most things in my life. I get overly excited, then stressed out in order to achieve the dreams I have established for the day of my birth and ultimately let down that I cannot reach the ridiculous expectations I have set forth for the celebration.

Birthdays to me mean straightening my hair, being with my best pals, and potentially dancing the night away until dawn’s early light with the knowledge that I can do what I want because it’s my birthday. Not that I typically shy away from the “I do what I want” attitude, it’s just that usually what I want is to be snuggled up in my bed far before the dawn’s early light.

So ultimately, I can’t actually stay awake to celebrate appropriately. I wish I were a person that wanted to shout from the rooftops that it’s my birth month. Plan extravagant trips and celebrations. Be the guest of honor at a surprise party. But at the end of the day birthdays bring about a lot of emotion and anxiety to me. It marks the fact that I am one year older and not necessarily a year closer to where I envisioned I would be at this stage of my life.

I am looking past that anxiety this year and focusing on how 29 will be my best year yet. Just like New Year’s Day, I will plan to do things better this year. I will be more focused on peace, love, and happiness… and all that jazz. Let’s see how it goes. Happy B-day to me…

New York I love you, but you're letting me down. Part Deux.

So where was I? Oh yeah I was taking about plants. I know you have been in suspense so let’s get right back to it. The remaining 5 points to my list. Without further ado.

6. Greenery. Speaking of Palm Fronds [which I had been], a little green space is totally necessary even for city living. It’s funny how after living in the city for about 6 months, if you visit friend’s apartments and as long as their one window doesn’t overlook a cement prison yard, it’s a view. The other day I looked out my friend’s window and I literally felt like I was in the rainforest. I overlook a courtyard and I feel like British royalty. Move over Will and Kate. Ahh and Harry… A little deprivation goes a long way.

7. Parks. Green space warrants 2 points. Central Park, long with many other parks, Brooklyn Bride, Prospect, and the highline, is amazing. Incredible I would say. Picnicking is my favorite sport and doing so in these locations brings me immense pleasure. Until I get hot. Which is immediately. At which point, I plummet into an abyss and just want to be within the nearest body of water as soon as physically possible.

8. Swimming. Love it. Could do it all day every day. I have the great fortune to live just steps away from The John Jay Swimming Pool. I personally feel like this classy establishment is the equivalent to a cabana riddled, swim up bar equipped South beach haven. The reality is you need to bring your own lock and you get frisked at the door, but hey water is water.

9. Restaurants. There are so many amazing restaurants. But due #5 on this list, I can basically only afford mediocre Vietnamese on the regular. This is actually a lie. This point is only a positive. The food in NYC is amazing despite what some snooty BK hipster indicated to me last weekend when he was touting the San Francisco “organic” restaurant scene. NYC has something for everyone and more.  In every price range, in every neighborhood, 24 hours a day. Sigh. It’s overwhelming.

10. And Finally.  Transportation. Ugh this one gets me every time. After living in Southern Florida for a mere year I came to appreciate the public transportation system in NYC immensely. I had to drive everywhere in FL and it really got me down. Although sidebar this did force me to drink substantially less and it was the healthiest I have ever been, but alas I don’t like to be forced to do anything. I love the fact that I can walk, subway, bus, or on a very rare occasion bike wherever I want whenever I want to in NYC.  But on days when I am most definitely late and have to wait 10 minutes on a rat invested platform, enter a steamy subway car only to be slammed against 50-100 other sweaty disgruntled commuters at which point there will most likely be delays due to “Train traffic ahead or an investigation at 14^th St. I decidedly hate it.

So there you have it. Marissa’s guide to what is spectacular/awful about the greatest/worst city in the world.  I love it. I hate it. Could I really live somewhere else? Probably not. But only time shall tell….

New York I love you, but you're letting me down.

As the seasons change, I am once again in a state of retrospection. Who am I? Where am I? Why am I here?  You know those real life altering meditations where I am once again reminded of why I both love and hate New York City. It is a fascinating situation where I literally feel both emotions equally and fully. Due to the fact that I am a victim of a top 10 list society, I will list here the top 10 reasons contributing to this dichotomous relationship.** After writing this it got lengthy so will be broken out into 2 installments.

1. The people. God why are there so many people??? I love people! I hate people! Sometimes it’s nice to look around and think “Wow all of these tourists are visiting MY home, because it is so cool and great.” Most times, I am thinking “WOW I want all of these tourists gone immediately, along with half of the residents of the isle of Manhattan.” Mama needs room to breathe.

2. Said people like to talk to you. Sometimes this is in the form of friendly banter and I feel like “Wow this is amazing people care about me!” Most times it’s some variation of heckling my reaction is “Dude I am not actually going to smile right now, no things are not okay, I am sad and I am going to continue to cry directly into my martini in public and it’s okay to do that because I am in NYC and everyone here is nuts and at least I am fully clothed.” And all other times these people just want me to join some type of feminist cult.

3. Dining Al Fresco. There are so many options of dining outside. It’s fantastic! The sun is shining, people are jolly, and things are feeling fine. Although 75% of these places are located directly behind a dumpster, you have 30 centimeters between the diners next to you, or if you are lucky you are on a roof. Roofs are good. I love roofs. On to the next.

4. Roofs. Everybody loves a good rooftop bar. I am included in this populous. They make me feel like I am Beyonce and Jay Z. I want to roll up to every single Roof Top bar wearing a white linen suit and a fedora. Maybe I am thinking of the Will Smith video for Miami, whatever I just love being roof side. And everyone cool has a rooftop terrace of their own. Except me. Because I am poor. So that’s why I also hate them.

5.The rent. You've heard that LCD Soundsystem Song. “New  York’s the greatest if you get someone to pay the rent.” Well it’s true. NYC rent is damn expensive. And most people live in what the rest of the country could only consider a pantry. And you continually feel like a pauper. But if you are rich in NYC I imagine it is simply amazing. If I won the lottery I would get a Butler and make him fan me with a giant Palm Frond all year long. 

We are halfway there. The rest is to be continued. Can you contain your excitement??