Native New Yorker

On September 11 2001, I was staying with my friend Jodi, in Brooklyn.

While I have put most of that day, and weeks that followed out of my mind (I have an excellent memory so I choose to forget) I do remember the chaos, the phones not working and speaking to family and friends around the world through MSN messenger.

There were no facebook status updates to reassure loved ones back then.
(Funny how we take that for granted now.)
I remember that I had trained as a bartender at the Marriott Hotel the week prior, in a building that came down with the towers.  (Jo was supposed to work there that day.)

With fashion week happening and a Michael Jackson special being filmed for CBS, it seemed as though EVERYBODY was in town.  (In fact, I had spent the evening of September 10 riding around in a limo with a guy claiming to be MJ's cousin!)  I came crawling home at 4-5am and just a few hours later, my cell phone (still working at the time) began ringing off the hook. 

My phone was plugged in in the living room, and I'll never forget when I stumbled out to get it, I caught a glimpse through the window and thought "What a beautiful day."
God.
I will never forget that clear dark blue sky. 
Ever.

I remember not going anywhere for days...we had food, wine, and a TV that was barely working.
My mom called and said she put money into my account so that I could book a ticket home the minute the airports were running again.
Absolutely not.

Like Jodi (originally from Pittsburgh) said, "Our parents don't think we should be here anyway, so of course they want us to leave now!  And besides, where are Native New Yorkers going to move to??"
She was right. 
They weren't leaving, and neither were we.

I don't know what brings about this New York hard-headedness.
We dig our heels in knowing it's more expensive than anywhere else, and don't get me started on the rats and roaches. 
Like my friend Kory said, "We've lived everywhere else, those places suck, and so do those people."
I died laughing.

While I have a hard time accepting that New York is becoming increasingly for the rich only, and that the artists who once flocked here will have to go somewhere more affordable (Detroit?) I will say this:
I've never been anywhere else that gives you the feeling of "anything is possible."
And it IS.

Success has just as much to do with geography as it does with hard work and connections.
That's the secret that nobody tells you.
And while I'm certainly no millionaire, struggling has never stopped me from dreaming bigger.
In fact, it's only made me work harder.

As any New Yorker will tell you; you have to have the balls to make that move in the first place - and God help you once you decide "This is where I'm staying, no matter HOW many times I'm knocked down."
I don't think I know anyone creative that hasn't expressed their art in some capacity here.

Like my bff Drew and I explained to his mom:
"Everything is easy in New York.  Except Life itself."
I believe it was fashion icon Oscar De La Renta said that, everyone who moves here, "Becomes a New Yorker eventually..."

I'd like to dedicate this blog to the "Native" New Yorkers.
The Lovers.  The Fighters.  The Dreamers.
And especially to those who lost somebody on September 11, 2001.
We're in this together.

Runnin' pretty, New York City Girl,
twenty five, thirty five 

Hello baby, New York City Girl

You grew up riding the subways, running with people

Up in Harlem, down on Broadway 

You're no tramp but you're no lady

Talkin' that street talk,

You're the heart and soul of New York City

 

And love, love is just a passing word

It's the thought you had, in a taxi cab

That got left on the curb...

When he dropped you off, at east 83rd...

 

Oh oh oh

(Oh oh oh)

You're a Native New Yorker...

~ Odyssey

Teen Spirit.

It's been a while. 
Hope this blog finds you well.

The other day, an account I follow on Instagram posted a pic - it was a black screen, and along the bottom where the words;
this time,
last year,
everything was so different...

It hit me like a punch to the stomach.
Can you imagine, this time last year my cousin still had 2 daughters?
That by the end of the week, their 16 year old daughter Alison would be dead?
A lot can happen in a year.

Although I'm in another city, I too have been rebuilding my life since that horrible phone call.
Friends have come and gone, and I'm much more selective about how I spend my time and who I spend it with.  Sometimes I wonder if I've become too selective?  If, in my grief-stricken haze, I've confused my disappointment in loved ones with my anger at losing my cousin? 

Regardless, the walls I've built around myself are starting to crumble, and if I'm not careful - I'll end up falling down with them.  After all, "no man is an island" as that saying goes.  And God knows I'm not perfect either (I mean, I AM - I just think posting that would be arrogant, ha.)

Man.
Remember what 16 was like?
The friends, the boys, the girls, the laughs and oh the tears...
Whenever I feel the heaviness of adulthood, with all it's heartache, frustrations, sleepless nights, bill payments, and bullshit - I think of Alison.

I think about making an impact in my own life because hers was cut so short, and about how her spirit affected so many.  Not only did she save lives by donating her organs - thanks to the hard work of her older sister Jaclyn, she's helped raised thousands to find a cure for the disease that killed her.  (https://www.facebook.com/AlisonsArmy) 
 
It really is amazing how the death of a young person forces us to reflect.
Look at Trayvon Martin's passing.

All of a sudden, an ugly mirror is being held up and whether we like it or not we can't ignore it.
Like my friend and I said the other day, "That child did not die in vain..."
Watching his parents behave with such strength and class, (when they'd have a perfect excuse not to) gives us the courage to say, "If they can function with such poise, I can too."
Aspirational indeed.

Lately I've been having a tough time.

I've been creatively stifled, financially strapped and I stopped going to church. 
Despite all this, I've been working out a lot more and researching my next business venture.
There's something so debilitating about being in that "in between" phase isn't it? 
It's like waiting for vegetation to sprout from the soil.

Like my darling friend Cass said last night, "I love you Laur - you'll get to the next part..."
She's right.
I'll get there because I have to.
I'll get there because I have the opportunity.
And that has to count for something.

Time,

Time,

Time,

See what's become of me

While I looked around for my possibilities

 

I was so hard to please

Look around,

Leaves are brown

And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

 

Hear the Salvation Army band

Down by the riverside,

There's bound to be a better ride

Than what you've got planned

 

Carry a gun in your hand.

Look around,

Leaves are brown,

And the sky is a hazy shade of winter.

 

Hang on to your hopes my friend,

That's an easy thing to say,

But if your hopes should pass away,

Simply pretend - that you can build them again

 

Look around,

Grass is high,

Fields are ripe

IT'S THE SPRINGTIME OF MY LIFE

 

Seasons change with the scenery,

Weaving time in a tapestry,

Won't you stop and remember me?

 

~ The Bangles

(Paul Simon)

  

 

 

 

   

Much ado about Everything

Dolls,

There is this nagging feeling that something needs to change.
If you've been following this blog over the last few months than you know something already has.  Our family suffered a devastating loss and we are all still recovering from it.
Or at least trying to.

I've come to the conclusion that there is no making "sense" of the fact that my cousin lost his beautiful daughter - or that she was chosen to suffer from an illness the last 5 years of her life.
I do know that it makes me sad.
And I doubt that there will come a time when it won't.

In my own life, I feel "stuck" emotionally and physically.
I twisted my ankle recently and am unable to exercise...between that and 'grief eating' the weight gain is noticeable.  It's just where I'm at right now.
I make no excuses.

I once read that when we don't want to be vulnerable, we will 'develop' a layer of fat to protect ourselves from being hurt.
Interesting.
Before Alison passed away, 2012 was on it's way to becoming one of the best years ever.
I was traveling, dating, drinking, dancing.

I'm almost embarrassed by my blogs prior to that fateful phone call.
But that's how it was then - and at the very least, I was making the most of my life.
Or so I thought.
I've realized something; somewhere along the way I stopped Dreaming Big.

What happened to my ambition?
Did it get lost in day-to-day life?

I was never "just" a dreamer.
I always to managed to somehow forge ahead and walk the talk.
(That's why the extra pounds ain't bothering me, I'll lose it, watch me.)
I remember when an old friend (also named Alison) counted the qualities in her friends that she most admired - mine was loyalty and ambition.

The problem is that loyalty always came first - and I spent much of my life trying to rescue people who couldn't even help themselves.  Or didn't want to.
As a result, my own needs were swallowed.
My NY Mom, Deb, said it best;
"If I were to die, you would take the day off work to come to my funeral - but you can't be there for me when I'm alive?"
Bingo.

In many ways, I'm not only mourning a loss, I'm mourning the old Me.
And the people that I used to know.

It's not about being cold and callus.
It's about being clear.
Or, as an email sent to me by my real mom said; surrounding yourself with "those who add and multiply making you more than you are - not those who subtract and divide, thereby devaluing you."

SIGH.

I was messaging with my cousin Kiana the other night and it was such an important conversation for us both.  I don't know HOW her and her sister have managed to hold it together in the wake of Alison's death, but they have.  She told me that Alison wanted to become a social worker.  Through my tears, I replied, "She IS a social worker.  She brought the family closer together, and in a strange way has us reevaluating our own lives as we know it."

It's true.
Some decisions have to be made - I can't avoid them forever.
In the meantime, I'll allow myself time to heal.
Physically and emotionally.

Until next week -xo-

Lady picture show

She hides behind the bedroom door

Lady picture show

She  hides behind the bedroom wall

She hides because she don't know nothin'

Don't know nothin' anymore

She keeps a funny face it's locked and bagged

It's just outside the door

She doesn't know her name

She doesn't know her face

She doesn't know her name

She doesn't know her face

~ Stone Temple Pilots

Spring Cleaning.

Well, It's here.
My birthday week.

March 1st usually greets me JUST as I'm slipping out of my long winter's coma...
It's like God leans down and whispers:
"It's OK to come outside now - your friends want to see you...Don't worry, spring is coming like it always does."

This year it's different.
I'm heading south.
That's right darlings, a much-needed (and deserved) vacation in Florida awaits.
North Beach.  South Beach.  Fort Lauderdale.
Anywhere the wind takes me.

Naturally I'm giddy with anticipation.
Not only will I be relaxing in the sun, I'll be re-connecting with my friends who live there.
Sweet.

The lead up hasn't been easy though.
Two weeks ago I began a 'cleanse' that came with protein shakes, vitamins, and tough diet restrictions.
No alcohol, coffee, red meat, or dairy.
Four of the days days (tho not in a row) are liquids only.
Ouch.

While shedding a few pounds is a bonus for any beach vacation, it was high time for a detox.
Was red wine becoming a bad habit?
Yes.
Had it been this way for a while?
Yes.

The line between a socializing and alcoholism is a fine one in New York City, and if you work at a bar, that line doesn't exit.
It was time to check myself.

Not surprisingly, I'm hungry.
But for much more than just food.
I find myself dreaming bigger than I have in a long time.

Maybe my worst habit of all has been settling for less.
Did I mention I gave up the phrase "I can't" for Lent?
I also gave up junk food.
The best news is, not only am I feeling like my old self again - I'm starting to look that way too.

More on that later.
It's time to pack.

Until next week my loves....

This feeling can't be beat

It's coursing through my whole bod-y

Feel the heat

~ Madonna