Street Life.

"I still hang around neither lost nor found
Hear the lonely sound of music in the night
Nights are always bright
That's all that's left for me, yeah"

The above lyrics by song writer Joe Sample (of The Crusaders) were inspired while being on a beginner's ski slope at Mammoth Mountain, California. 
He said:
 "I saw people falling, running into each other... it was absolute chaos. It looked like a boulevard of madness. And I said, That's what 'Street Life' is."

Well Darlings,

I gotta tell you - writing while you're preparing for vacation (or better yet, while you're ON vacation) is much easier than doing it when you come back.
The birthday "high" is beginning to fade.
Thankfully I have daylight savings and spring-time temps keep my spirits up.

I was overwhelmed by the amount of well-wishes I received last week from friends and family.
I got one message from my cousin who was so sweet and encouraging but I found myself slightly defensive.
She said she'd heard I was "living the life" and exclaimed "that's the way life should be."

I play the Street Life because there's no place I can go
Street Life, it's the only Life I know

I just remember thinking "God if you only knew!"
It's easy to feel like life's a beach when you're ON the beach.
It's quite another to be slinging drinks at a bar for 15 hours, just to survive in New York City.
I take that back.
To THRIVE in New York City.

Street Life - and there's a thousand parts to play
Street Life - until you play your Life away

Nobody wants to hear about the tough breaks and the struggles - and nobody sees the tears...God knows there are plenty of them.
I think it was Janet Jackson who said that nobody wants to hear her complaining.
(This is a woman who lived her entire career in her brother's shadow - and then he DIED)

Anyway my point is this.
My cousin is RIGHT.
I am living the life. 
I celebrated my birthday the entire time I was in Miami, then had an EPIC celebration the day after I returned.  (From what I remember anyway)

 You let the people see just who you wanna be
And every night you shine, just like a superstar

Yes of course it's a hustle.
Like Samantha Jones famously said on Sex & the City:
"A homeless man just showed me his DICK on the way here!  It doesn't get any realer than that!"
True indeed.

What's also true is that the struggle makes us stronger. 
We're all in it together so friendship bonds can form quickly.
And they have.
And it's fabulous.

Three months in and 2012 has already kicked 2011's ass.
May the "Champagne Campaign" continue.
Until next week...

That's how the Life is played - a tempting masquerade

You dress, you walk, you talk

You're who you think you are

 ~ The Crusaders

 







 

Paradise Island.

Mama's got a headache.
Too little sleep, too much wine and way too many laughs...
Here we go again.

In the midst of mine and K's "I've given up on men" conversations, I got this email from a twitter friend last night: 
"You had tweeted something to me about dating recently - how goes it!?! I hear NY is a Dater's paradise."
(He was responding to this blog.)

Paradise: land, feeling of great pleasure; absence of evil.

In New York City, the seeking of "great pleasure" is the reason we get out of bed at all!
The pursuit of fashion, alcohol, drugs, caffeine, sex (and more sex!) is the fuel to our fire. 
Carrie Bradshaw wasn't kidding around.

What Carrie and the girls DIDN'T have to deal with tho, was text-messaging.
(Can you imagine how much more Samantha would have gotten laid if they had?!)

Over the past few weeks, I've been invited out last minute and surprised (at work) by my growing number of boyfriends.  Last night was no exception. 
I was beckoned to "come over and cuddle" after a 14 hour shift at the bar. 
As tempted as I was, what I REALLY needed was a cocktail and a shower.

K and I agonized over what my next move/response should be (with shrieks of laughter) for an hour.  (Meanwhile, we had to deal with her romantic situation involving a man who asked only to be referred to as "that Jew from Brooklyn.")

In my attempt to sound coy and flirty, I sent him a message that made no sense (I forgot to add a word) and he responded asking if I was questioning his underwear. 
And the hits just keep on coming.

The problem with text messaging is that it while it allows for spontaneous planning - what it DOESN'T do is wash your hair provide you with fresh clothes. 
(It did however, hook us up with PLENTY of laughter.  An ab exercise of hysterics.)

In the end, I didn't make it over to his place.
I was far too busy enjoying my friends.
(Bonus: ended up meeting someone new in the process)

May the year of fun continue.

Until next week...

I'm not ruling you out
I'm just in doubt

As to what you say you're all about
~ Amy Winehouse