My Life Is A Hurricane

Irene has begun her highly anticipated adventure, starting with a nice little vacation in the Bahamas. She took the place by storm. Literally.
As she now travels up the Carolina coasts, heading for the Jersey Shore (think: Snooki's voiceover "I'm going to Jersey Shore, bitch!") she will be visiting Seaside Heights with very few to party beside her. Next stop: The big, bad, juicy NYC. What to do once she arrives? Paint the town red? Or more like black and chaos? Will she go all-out or take gnashing bites at the city, but leaving most of the apple intact?

As east coasters anticipate the arrival of Hurricane Irene, the city is at once chaotic, yet calm. Grocery stores, fervent with last-minute shoppers, scrambling for batteries, toilet paper, ice cream and, don't forget, alcohol-- now closed with empty shelves of produce, bread and anything with a shelf life lasting into 2015 most likely settled into pantries across the 5 boroughs.
Home Depot's sales have tripled since Mayor Bloomberg has uttered the now infamous words "State of Emergency" and "mandatory evacuation."

Ralph Lauren and his daughter, Dylan (of Dylan's Candy Bar) have long evacuated the now not-so-glitzy city via chopper. The candy bars and lollipops, left to their own devices. Incubated babies and sick, elderly folk, evacuated from NYU's hospital, while the rest of the city waits with bated breath counting down the seconds, wondering about the size of Irene and the destruction she will leave in her wake.

Ironically, my life has never been calmer. Graduated from NYU on time, others not so lucky. Proud of my grades, but not proud of my student debt. Found love. I'm taking it with me. Seen and experienced the city to my content. Obviously, one can never experience all or enough of the city.

People continue to ask me: "What else would you like to do before moving to SF?" I ponder that thought for a moment, and really, I can't think of anything other than "Eat at Peter Luger's and party at the Hamptons"-- both realistic choices given I still have 31 days left to enjoy my time. Aside from partying, eating, or feeling like these past two and half years have been some sort of study-abroad/extended vacation, it's really time for me to grow up and live a more settled life. Who would've thunk? Me? The girl that ran away from the institution of marriage and a partner who wanted a family, a home, is now ready to embrace those very things and is open to giving it a go.

Timing is everything. Sometimes, we know the things we want, we see them from a distance and we expect that we will be prepared and can handle the outcome when that time has arrived. Much like a hurricane, when the things you always dreamed of having are hurtled at you in rapid motion, the instinct is to run and take shelter. Much like the preparation of Irene, I have given myself time to sit with the anxiety, to be patient and have a clear mind for her arrival. But when she comes, I will fully embrace her and allow myself to be taken on the crazy ride. As long as I don't die from it, I'll always be able to pick myself back up.
And, just like returning to California, back to my home, I imagine when faced with the similar prospect several years ago, I'll be ready this time with gallons of ice cream and alcohol to get me through the storm.

A new chapter awaits me in SF. Of course, I wonder if any recurring characters will be in it.

California Love

I, (and 1 million NYers) would agree

For the longest time, I willed myself into believing that in order to LOVE and live in NY, that meant I had to sever all ties to my heart, and my former home- Los Angeles, California. It's that kind of dichotomous thinking: East Coast vs West Coast mentality that has got me on any given day, loving NY/hating LA, or Loving LA/hating NY.

For months I've battled back and forth between my love/indifference for my new life in The City. Talking to a few people in similar situations as myself, a lot of us that have moved out East from the West coast means adjusting to an entire new way of life-- public transportation with people you normally wouldn't be exposed to, living in (MUCH) smaller living quarters with (MUCH) higher rent costs, mingling with very unique people (which can also translate to mingling with very crazy people) and a faster pace of living mixed with harsher weather elements.

That's all been fine and dandy for me. I like being busy and always on-the-go.

However, no one ever told me that I'd miss what I've taken most for granted since living here: 1) the ever-reliable Cali sun and 2) my beautiful, lovely, nice, and NORMAL family and friends back home.

What I miss most about Cali are my Cali loves

Now, I don't want to knock the new friends I've made in NY, or the recently acquainted family members I've met out here. There are a lot of nice people that have been supportive of me, and given me the space to embrace my independent and free-spirited nature with little judgment or questions asked. Meanwhile, I've started hanging out with some fellow transplants also originally from Cali (isn't it weird how that happens?), but my biggest gripe about NY aside from the sky-high living costs, is the lack of COMMUNITY. Maybe now that I'm getting older, I don't enjoy partying like a rock star all the time. I've sorta got the been there, done that mentality. Also, working hard and having very little time to relax, to me, that's not an enjoyable way of living. I long for the slow and tranquil days of Cali, going to the beach on a whim, even missing the generic attributes of my fellow Lost Angelenos (way easier to figure out than the indie folk I meet here).

And, I absolutely miss Mexican food! It's always funny too, how New Yorkers love to say to me "Oh, you have to know where to go. You just haven't found a good spot". Trust me, I've hunted around quite a few places now and the carnitas never quite tastes like the stuff back home.

I'm still opening myself up to getting to learn New York's way of life and appreciating everything it has to offer (cool culture, eccentricities, exceptionally fine dining- dare I say, the best in the nation!) especially now that the weather is getting nicer. As my friend Kim says "We're all here in NY on borrowed time. No one stays in NY forever, so you might as well live in the best neighborhood, eat the best food and enjoy the hardcore parties..."

Going forward, that will be my new motto for day-to-day life. I think it's the only way that it'll keep me sane, at least, for another year or so.

Every time it rains, snows, hails, gets windy, and as I walk the streets each morning and evening rushing to get from Point A to Point B inhaling the cab fumes and probably developing some form of cancer, I just think of my friends enjoying the beautiful nature hikes, Cali's ability to laugh easily and often, and the mellow, breezy days that seem to stretch on endlessly.

Then I start to think about the earthquakes...

And that makes me ponder: What if I were still living in California?

Would I be sitting in my mildly warm, massive apartment with not enough furniture to fill it, complaining about the one-hour commute in traffic, blogging about how much I ♥ NY?

Abso-f*cking-lutely.

Hermosa Beach, California