Mr. I Have a Walk-In Closet and I want to put a baby in it.

Dating in New York is better than dating in Los Angeles.

A bold statement but one I stand by.

The men in New York are more ambitious, communicative, honest, and generous. They know what they want in life, including a career path and what sort of relationship they want with a girl.  You just can’t be a slacker in New York. It’s financially impossible.

One such go-getter was Mr. I Have a Walk-In Closet.  He also works in ad technology so we had a lot in common when we met for our first Bumble date. He humbly bragged about the new Upper West Side condo he had just bought and renovated. He whipped out his phone and gave me the virtual tour of the 2BR complete with crown moldings. He ended the tour with an Instagram of the large and empty walk-in closet which he proudly announced could fit a baby.

We didn’t work out.

Don’t Fight It.

I have no other way
There is a price to pay
For what the man will say
That I was a million miles away
In a promise full of steam
It could take no vacant dream
To persuade me to believe

I think just don’t fight it,
Don’t fight it, don’t fight it
If you don’t know what it is,
If you don’t know what it isI left my heart in places
Forgot everyone of their faces
And tried to navigate a broken path
Of which I may have helped create
In any incident, this is never no accident
To stand alone and
Let the silence make itself at home

Ah, give it up,
Those dirty tricks
No quick fix, can undo it
Ah, give it up
I won’t resist
My answers always this

I said don’t fight it,
Don’t fight it, don’t fight it
If you don’t know what it is,
If you don’t know what it is

Just don’t fight it,
Don’t fight it, don’t fight it
If you don’t know what it is,
If you don’t know what it is

Where has my light gone?
Where has my fight gone?
What keeps us burning when the fire is long gone?
When I can’t relate to that voice without a face
Should I be afraid or is it just a voice I did create?

Ah, give it up,
Those dirty tricks
No quick fix, can undo it
Ah, give it up
I won’t resist
My answers always this

I said don’t fight it,
Don’t fight it, don’t fight it
If you don’t know what it is,
If you don’t know what it is

 

“Don’t Fight It.” – The Panics.

Where I’ve Been and Who I’ve Done

A lot has happened between 2014 and 2016. I applied for and received unemployment round 2 (shout-out to New York and California states!), I did some dudes, and a lot of advertising clients screamed at me. I endured a lot of physical and mental pain, cried on a lot of 4/5/6 train cars, and also danced my ass off in between. Here’s a rundown of the last 48 months of July 2014 – July 2016.

Months 1-2: Welcome to New York. Everything so happy and shiny and new and warm!!

Month 3: Everything stopped being so shiny and happy.

Month 4: I became routinely the last person in the office.

Month 4.5: Halloween night 2014, someone stole my uber and rode it to Coney Island to the fine tune of $168 charged to my Visa.

Month 5: Officially entered noise complaint wars with the stomping monster upstairs in my adorable Lower East Side studio apartment.

Month 7:  Broke my lease on said Lower East Side apartment and moved to the most boring part of Manhattan, Financial District. I sleep like a lamb. 

Month 10: Rewind Guy  #1.

Month 11: I realized I had attained more wrinkles in my forehead in one year in NYC than I had gained in 11 years on the west coast.

Month 12: I looked in the mirror and saw that I was the shell of my former self. I stopped smiling and I couldn’t remember how to start smiling. I went on a trip to Greece with girlfriends from Chicago and LA who said they didn’t even recognize me anymore

Month 14: I entered Therapy. Just what New York needed – another neurotic white privileged woman whining about her miserable life, sexist work environment, and requesting Xanax to sleep.

Month 17: I received The Talk at my job. Long story short, the company eliminated the Account Manager function because they felt that my skills and career goals didn’t line up with the new “sales role” and handed me a paltry severance package. 

Month 18: Rewind Guy #2.

Month 19: Unemployed. Again.

Months 20-24: All a bit of blur. I relaxed at the thought of an empty inbox. I traveled to New Orleans, California, Chicago, and all the places that I missed in the last 2 years. I went on a lot of interviews with a lot of snobby companies, drank a lot of Manhattans, dealt with an ankle injury and moderate eye/vision issue (shout out to Obamacare!), and found my smile again.

Month 24: Employed again. I am cautiously optimistic.