an ode to my blankie

HMOH is making her way past the wedding craze and into the babymaking phase (that's other people's weddings and baby-making, though my mother would pray for otherwise).  With a number of recent pregnancy announcements,in honor of yesterday's Throwback Thursday, and because her arm fell off last week, I've decided to share my deepest feelings with my dearest baby .... blanket.   

Now if you're taking a moment to judge me, I say whatever.  Think long and hard about what you've been able to keep alive for thirty years and then we'll talk.

But you see, I recently I woke up to find a piece of blankie at the foot of the bed.   There are friends - Jill and Bloomie, Hill and Blankie, Missy and Pillow, Kelsey and Puppy, Erica and well, Blankie - that understand the attachment.  Other people try to understand.

And so with that, I begin.
_________________________________________________________
Dearest Blankie,

As we age and get older we are often faced with the reality that some people ... and some things .. will not be with us forever.  In the past few months where I've woken to your straggled hems wrapped around my neck in an attempt to kill me,  I worry that I might have to do a better job of preserving you.  But before it's too late and before someone suggests I sew you to another blanket in an effort to have you for another 30 years, I wanted to write this special note to you.

I named all my dolls Amy.  I'm not sure why.  Maybe I knew it would always be a classic.  Maybe I liked the simplicity or the fact that their name would never be cooler than mine.  I was a doll girl.  I wanted every. single. one. that I was introduced to from my weekend cartoon commercials and scribbled down.  At birth, however, I was gifted a beautiful pink blanket.  Bordered in pink satin that fit perfectly between my fingers and with an embroidered rocking horse (or unicorn, it's tough to remember and tell nowadays) that would withstand the test of time. 

Sure, I gave you up (shhhh don't worry) ... when most children should part ways with their blankie.  And sure I picked you back up again at the young age of 16 when home with period cramps I remembered you had magical powers to cure stomach aches if someone would just shove you in their shirt.  And from there, you would jump right back into being my companion.  Probably coming along for some of the more important rides of life - teens, through college and into my 30s adulthood.  The story of you in my toddler years is shady, since we can't seem to find a picture of me holding you.  But you were there, I know it. You've been there through it all. 

When I went away to college. You'd shamelessly remain under my pillow until it was time to "introduce you."  Or when I'd notice you accidentally back in my arms after I'd hid you before heading out.

Remember that one time I thought to share in my drunkenness and throw up on you?  You were wild. I slept the night on the futon and checked on you in that garbage bag outside my door every hour on the hour.  And when I slept for just two hours straight and awoke to find you were missing, how it was a rumor on the sorority floor that my grandmother had died.  How the cleaning lady felt so horrible thinking she had discarded you (when in fact Kelsey did,) and she jumped into the dumpster to retrieve you.  She's a good lady. 

Remember when you lived in Spain?  You elected not to backpack elsewhere for fear you'd land yourself in a dumpster again (smart move, blankie ... wine was really cheap in Europe.)

You had major ragers with Elenosaurus, Doggie, Blankie, Pillow, Bloomie and the like.  Graduated with a great degree.  Moved to New York City.  You got many invites to hot social events, specifically a guest of honor at "BYOB" ... or Bring Your Own Blankie parties at Apt 4H/9B.  Ah, remember when you celebrated Jill's birthday by surprising her with Bloomie?  Yea, me too.

Remember when you got your own place (with me of course)?  How you've been by my side and under my arm for heartbreaks, tears, laughs and some serious couch time. You told Erica that getting her blankie restuffed for Chanukah was not necessary. You were right. 

And while you're too feable to travel nowadays, I look forward to the times you're home waiting under that pillow like always.

 

Dearest Blankie, it's been a long run and I'm not talking smack like it's the end of the road.  All the Amy dolls have permanent marker "cuts" on their foreheads and they've been sold at garage sales or are stuck in an attic.  You win dude.  Thanks for chilling in my closet for 5 years before I came to my senses and realized your powers.  Thanks for hanging in there, for trying your hardest to make it to my wedding (let's hope you have another few decades in you) and all that comes after that.  I prob won't share you with any kids - it's a choking hazard and I'm not really a sharer ... but we'll introduce them to a blankie and hope they have such a long-lasting, loving relationship.

See you at home ... because if I wasn't going to be alone forever, I def might be now.

-HMOH

HMOH: a look back on 2012

It's easy to lose track of time at the end of every year. Lose track of 5 lbs or a waistline ... and the spend track on your trusty Amex. Too busy getting holiday gifts together, stocking the calendar with parties, potlucks and get-togethers before the dawning of a new year. Too busy stuffing my your face, killing my your liver slowly and enjoying in all the festivities with close friends and family. I, for one, was too busy worrying about when I'd be tan again, when my thyroid will stop letting itself take all the blame for why I can not get back to that goal weight (like, stand up for yourself dude), and if I'm really meant to own twenty cats and die alone.  I really hope not. I hate cats.

So I lost track of time and quite frankly motivation, but today as I walked through Rock Center during lunch and thought about how I'd like to kick out people's knees or shove the next tourist that dead stopped in front me of, I took another moment. I live in the best city on earth with my favorite people on earth (plus or minus a few.) I don't save my money the whole year to travel here for a few days and take in all the sites and sounds. I walk past it every day and instead piss my money away on rent so I can't afford to go anywhere else. I'll typically look back on the year and think about all the things that didn't happen, but what about those great things that did?  And so I got to ruminating on how I have so much to be grateful for. I've done and learned a lot this year.

•  I continued to have the best of times with my best friends, and lean on them for what seemed like the worst of times ... which were sparingly this year.
• I went honky tonk in Nashville, chilled in LA, sailed the Susquahanna, hit the horse races and bourbon in Kentucky. I saw NYC's Ellis Island and enjoyed backyard tourist spots.
• I visited one of my best friends in the world - across the world. Between Facetime chats and virtual tours of her cottage, I was able to pop on a plane (the second one, I missed the first) and see her home away from home before swinging down across the South of France.
• I got a new job. A really great job. One that took a frustratingly long time to land but puts me at the top of my game and allows me to show off all I can do among new people. I also get free beauty products and best-in-class haircare ... and quite frankly, I'm going to thank me some day.
• On that journey to land that job, I took years working with people who will be in my brood of "forever peeps" and I'm thankful for them.
• I saw friends get engaged to and marry the ones they love and bring into the world ones they (and I) couldn't love any more.
• I spent more weekends to myself than at bridal showers, baby showers, bachelorette parties and weddings.
• In those weddings that I did attend, I did so successfully where an ex or an ex of a best friend were there. I may or may not have been successfully whisked away by my father at the end of the night who locked my almost 30-year-old self in a Holiday Inn Express tower "for my own good."
• Through firsthand experience I learned that it's cleansing to put yourself in situations where you may discover the girl who "stole" the boy who stole your heart is busted and he's thankfully all hers.
• I triumphed, I failed, I laughed, I cried, I almost died by suffocation on account of my shredding baby blanket.
• I sewed my first pillow and made my first tiramisu. Things that may seem insignificant, but they're stepping stones to following in my mom's big footsteps.
• I continued to enjoy my two favorite people - my brothers. The only two people in the world who understand MY family. Who can have mature conversations and also still resort to being little shits at times. Who I watched graduate from college or land an awesome new job. Who alongside me got down with our MJ bad selves in a cab, and let me dress them in bowties in the absence of a wedding date.
• I celebrated my birthday with amazing friends - via a bloody mary bar, violin serenades, guacamole and sombreros (which I promptly had them remove once entering a bar.) I have never had a better birthday ... especially since it was the first time I turn 29. Because seriously, there are a lot of 29th birthdays to come.
• I survived a hurricane and a week without power. I was lucky enough to enjoy the time indoors with minimal damage to my home. Again my waistline, liver and missing, favorite pair of sunglasses may think differently.
• I learned that everything deserves a second chance. Little to nothing deserves a third.
• I signed up to be a mentor, to inspire someone to do better and strive for everything. I hope in the coming year I will start to make a real impact on who she becomes. I think she'll make me a better person too. I'm still, however, coming to terms with the fact we're she's not going to Harvard.

So when life gets me down or I selfishly don't understand why some people get things and I don't... SIDENOTE: this, I assume, must stem from when a younger me couldn't get Susie Scribbles because she was too much money and I just didn't understand how we could possibly turn down a doll that WROTE YOUR NAME. Whatever, I bet she had bad handwriting anyways... So right ... when life gets me down, I will take a moment (as we all should) to be excited about everything I do have and for all the happiness that's to come.

I'm not going to say that writing more on this thing is a resolution, because that'd be like me promising you I'm going to the gym every day and I'm no lying fool.  But I do say it every year and I'll say it again ... I've got big plans for this one.  Cheers to spending 2013 doing worthwhile things with those who matter most. To those who you can lose track of time with or if not, and much like this blog, pick right back up where you left off.

-HMOH

SIDENOTE: struggling to get back

Well hello there. 

It sure has been a while, hasn't it?  For that, I apologize.  I equate it to the same way I'll read three novels back to back and then not pick another one up for a while.  No excuses - especially because since my last post about "Surviving a Tuxedo," I've survived a hurricane and week without power or water (which meant binge eating, binge drinking, a 48-hour Game of Thrones marathon, loss of my favorite sunglasses at "The Honky Tonk Tavern" (why?), couch-surfing and a pulled neck muscle.)  My struggles don't compare to those who actually lost so much during Sandy ... so from here on out I will clarify that by my struggles, I mean my not really problems.  I have a home to go home to, a family safe and sound, a job/office to report to - plus, the experience helped me finally clean out my fridge and freezer.

With that said, I lay some long delayed HMOH sidenotes on you without fear of judgement.  I'm a selfless, entitled person and so I will own these rants below:

• You want to talk about daily struggles? It's called trying to get egg shells out of the egg whites bowl.  It's like one of those IQ tests they give in hopes you'll score high on the idiot scale. Chickens all over the world just laughing at us.  Just trying to get your finger right on the spot where the shell lies and then stealthily maneuver it to the side the bowl is harder than most things I encounter on a day-to-day basis. 
• My friend just returned from Jordan - an "Indiana Jones"-type adventure that seems like such an amazing trip.  After eating a part of a goat or boar or something that should not be used in a sentence with the word "eat," he unfortunately got sick ... and lost 10 lbs.  I wanted to feel so bad while reading about his misfortune, but I also wanted to know if they sell Jordanian (struggled here too - really wanted to go with Jordanese) goat here in New York.  I'm due for 10lbs before the holidays.
• I was a superhero this morning - bringing a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich to someone in need.  The smell of the eggs made this someone nauseous (he'd later vomit in a cab) and so he not-so-graciously declined my adorable gesture.  I offered to take it with me and pass it off to a homeless person.  I didn't pass any homeless people.  So I ate it.  Sober.  #therearestarvingchildreninthisworld






Sidenote to sidenote: If this wasn't $250 and a blatant advertisement for my early 20s, I would so add it to my Christmas list.. Well done, Kate Spade intern. 


• It's been a long-time goal of mine to give back via a mentoring program and I've graciously been accepted and matched to an awesome girl this year.  I'm so excited to serve as a mentor and encourage anyone in the NYC area to look into joining this organization.  We're working together on goals and making sure she gets into college.  I'm trying to come to terms with the fact that, once again, I'm not going to Harvard or getting wait-listed early admission from Cornell.  I will not run away from home this time.  At least I don't think so.

I AM running away to home for Thanksgiving with family and friends and can't believe how quickly the year has come and gone.  It's this time of year that makes me fall back in love with NYC and look for extra ways to give to those with actual struggles.  A week without power in order to have the whole city grid lit up in the holiday spirit will be worth it.

'Til the next time - where I'll switch my entitled problems over to what I seriously am most thankful for this year ...

-HMOH

p.s. In all seriousness, (and because my friend Lauren is amazing and makes me feel bad that my blog is not dedicated to the better good of strangers), there are many ways to do good and get involved in Hurricane Sandy relief. I hope you, my readers, have or will do something for those most affected.

SIDENOTE: surviving a tuxedo

Ever crave a 24-48 hour stomach bug to slim down fast?  No? Yea, no me neither ... that's weird.  

No, but seriously. 

It'd probably be a lot simpler than this BluePrint Cleanse I just started.  I'm actually quite pleased that I'm commited to it, but I am choking down these bad boys for the sake of refreshing and crossing another thing off my "30 before 30".  I'd be lying if I said that it's not also timed perfectly to my cousin's wedding and a dress I can zip up but not necessarily get down with my bad self in ... yet. 

So while I'm trying to fit comfortably into a dress, I also tried to survive a Tuxedo this past weekend (knee slap; so punny).  In another effort to refresh and kick off my favorite season, my hiking buddies and I took to our trails and had a seriously bad ass adventure.  Off to Tuxedo, NY ... where, fun fact of the day, the Black Tie fashion's name was bestowed.  We met first at Port Authority, also affectionately named, "Penn Station's drug addict cousin" ... and that's being nice. At an ungodly hour of 8:30 am I felt like I first needed a doctor's visit and some vaccinations to board the Short Line bus. We were dropped off 45 minutes away in Harriman State Park - idyllic, quiet, scary as shit.  A lady rolled up to us in her Hyundai and cautioned that there had been a lot of bears in the area.  She probably guessed we were hikers since we were, you know, in neon colors with no protective gear or overnight supplies.  We trailed a group of men with backpacks and those serious hiking sticks while I listened in on a quick tutorial of how to handle a bear encounter. Keeping an eye on our surroundings and sounds of the area, we reached the peak of a long stretch of an uphill climb.  The passerbys (friendly crew) said thank god we weren't a 72 year old, diabetic man. We laughed because that's weird and bears are scary.  But then they told us about this guy, who had shot his daughter-in-law before fleeing into the very woods we were hiking. The police called off their search that a.m., and suddently we weren't afraid of bears anymore. We would spend much of the day discussing our favorite Berenstain Bears books (and how you should like them on Facebook for twice weekly entertaining posts), and writing our own scary movie script in which we starred, someone broke an ankle, a bear attacked, a crazy murderer shot him and helped us to safety, and two of the four of us survived. The boys tried to throw some topless scenes in, but it wasn't time for joking.  Needless to say, we made it back safely in time for Bloomies Friends + Family and me to start starving myself.  Bad ass. I know.

I have to say, with a new age and new season I feel really happy.  A reenergized body, owning a wedding weekend in Kentucky and doing more things on that list (my days are numbered) is exactly what this girl needs. The stomach bug can wait until bikini season returns.  Haha, I'm kidding.  Yea, no I'm not.

-HMOH

falling slowly

As if last week couldn't have gotten any better, I'm starting to feel the fall chill that pairs perfectly with boots and a skirt.  I love everything about this season - especially in this city.  The JCrew catalog, the style, the last remaining days spent at Central Park, the excusions to the open air outside the concrete jungle, birthday celebrations, nuptial celebrations and a far more open planner.

I'm not ready to commit to switching over my closet, but I am ready to switch over my nail polish cabinet (you know, put the lighter and brighter colors to the back).  Time to fall slowly into a calmer pace and fully embrace my most wonderful time of the year.

-HMOH

it's your birthday baby

Talk about underachieving on this thing.  But I'll tell you what I am winning big at - my birthday.  BIG.  By 9:30 a.m. I'd received texts, calls and dined with some of the most important people in my life … with much more love to follow.

If I'm being honest with myself,I spent much of this work day basking in my Facebook wall blowing up and cleaning up my inbox with Facebook notifications.   In the business we call it "social security" or "social klout" - I call it proving how popular you are. 

On a humble note (which we know I'm not too good at), another year has come and gone.  I shed a few tears at my desk because I truly feel loved today.  To take a moment to realize what you do and who appreciates you for you is important.  From the calls, from the texts, from the unnecessary and beautiful bouquets sent to my desk (and the delivery man who dropped his bologna sandwich on my floor while delivering them).  All in all a celebration of a good year and a great one to come.  I'll never take for granted the blessings I have in my life (beyond a happening social media page) and so I'm taking a moment to write down a few HMOH sidenotes from the year.

• Family.  If you're lucky, they're still here a year later and still love you all the same.
• Best friends.  You don't need a million, but you need the right ones.  I have the one in a million kinds, and I couldn't be more thankful.
• Best friends make beautiful babies that will one day babysit your babies so you should be nice to them.  If you're extra nice maybe their moms will stay skinny for your bridesmaid dresses.
• Know what's best for you, what you'll stand for, what you'll stand up for, what you'll fall for.  And if you don't yet know, learn.
• Good things come to those who wait.  I thought this was a load of crap until I waited a really long time for the right job to come around. 
• Good things don't always come to those who wait - ahemmm diets.
• Setting goals - i.e., #30before30, helps keep you honest and bring you places you wouldn't have normally taken the time to be.  It also gives people good inspiration for birthday presents (sewing machine, check)
• Throughout the year, AstrologyZone is the perfect way to start off the first of your month - and the 15th to check in and see how you're doing - and the 20th to see if that money and boyfriend is coming soon - and the 30th to see that nothing really that Susan said happened.
• Your twenties are pretty awesome… and they're not over yet.  And if they are, I hear 30's not so bad. (I'm kidding, I hear it all goes downhill after 30)

Thank you to my parents for bringing me into this world and you're welcome for making you parents.  No sweat.  I'd do it again if I had to.

Onto the last year with a 2 in front of it - 365 days to still cross a bunch of things off and the last time I don't have an excuse for the why I drink so much, why I'm single or why I can't just shake those extra 5.  Next year I'm blaming it ALL on 30.

Thank you to everyone who made me feel loved and blessed today.  

-HMOH

SIDENOTE: Why? Thursday

I ask a lot of the same questions.  Like why do I always have an umbrella when it doesn't rain and then have to buy a $12 one from Duane Reade that's about to break because it's raining and I'm sans protection?  Or why do some people get to be happy? (what?) Or why does the Summer prompt no time for the gym with massive eating and drinking binges, plus bikinis.   Some things I guess I'll just never know.  But in the meantime, I drop a few rando Thursday sidenoted questions for ya.

• Why would it be the case that my wedding invitation to Jess and Paul's wedding got returned to sender when I live legit across the street from them? And why did I put the response card back in the mail to be funny?
• How awkward is it when a cashier says, "enjoy" and you say "you too"?  You're not about to share your tuna melt with her.
• Why does seltzer water explode like every. single. time. you open a new bottle? 
• and why must I continue to write back to chain emails from the morning after a Tuesday night out and say "XX you were missed, my opportunity to stop into the pizza place under my building, however, was not."
• And why did someone at Groupon think this subject title was appropriate?  Besides the fact that backpacks are inappropriate always - this just seems like a really great deal only for a horndog high school boy.

• Why do homeless people feel like they can tell you they hope you get hit by a taxi? I just hope you get a job and some money to eat or buy drugs. 
• Why do you continue to write senseless stuff on Facebook and why haven't I defriended you earlier?
• Why are there consistently stories/emails/texts from my single ladies that confirm men are just undeniably ridiculous beings.  Like when a friend traveling on business had a chance meeting at the airport, was bought a cup of coffee (even she had to turn down a cocktail at 7am) and asked to make plans for the upcoming week.  How come after that she got a text message saying, "it was really great to meet you. Too bad we didn't have more time!"  it was followed up with "Too bad we aren't on the same flight. I've never had sex on a plane and quite frankly I wanted to tell u to go in the bathroom and take ur pants down lol... Ur hot!"
• And why can't people get UR and U'RE right?  I mean use proper English people.
• And no, she did not go on the date with him. It bothered me that wasn't a question also.

Alright, that will be all. Hope you have a questionably great Thursday, email subject line or in-transit encounter.  And of course, feel free to share them below. 

-HMOH