Fight the Good Fight

I've moved again. 7th time in just under a year and a half. I have moved from Colorado to Cambodia. Cambodia to Colorado. Colorado to Massachusetts. Massachusetts to Colorado. Colorado to New York (Manhattan). Manhattan to Brooklyn. Brooklyn to a different place in Brooklyn.

I'm spent.

Amidst my piles of books and mismatched socks there is a beautiful apartment. 12 foot ceilings. An archway. Old etched glass doors. Its paradise.

But i still can't shake the feeling of "oh shit" I continuously have regarding New York City. The "oh shit" feeling I have that I am living in the wrong place. Pursuing the wrong dream.

I know the dreams I want most. They are the ones I etch into journals swathed in faux leather covers. The writings I carve deep into their pages, aching for a life of a more pastoral nature. A life where I work on my art. Write my stories. Breathe fresh air daily. And yet, I stop short of truly chasing such dreams. Instead I put myself into jobs that eat all my time. Classes that just don't do my life dreams justice.

I want more.

I want an outdoor shower covered in ivy. A barn where I can create. A house where I can bake bread. Daily.

I. Need. Out.

Two years to go, maximum. Two more years.

Poor Soup Choices

Today I went to Union Market in the slope and bought a gazpacho. I spent quite a few hours angsting over the choices. The gazpacho is too spicy. I should have picked the bell pepper vichychoisse.

Poor choices indeed.

Uptown 6 Musings

So when I started writing down my subway experiences and putting them into chapters in the book I am writing, I worked in the Upper East Side.  Everyday I walked to the Spring Street Uptown 6 train, despite having much betters options for transportation.  There was something therapeutic about the experience.  It was the walk that was therapeutic, not the subway itself, at least not initially.  At this time, I hated the subway and was angry I couldn't get to work any other way easily.  (I biked from time to time, but it was a long miserable bike ride in traffic)  

But it was those slogs on the 6 train that kept me going, the things I saw, the people I began to recognize.  It was during those sticky fall days that I realized I could write a book about these people, about my move from idealistic perfect more-days-of-sun-per-year-than-miami Boulder to the big city.  And so I started.  I wrote chapters of my book on this train, noting the posters which advertised the "Good Day Dance" which in my humble opinion, was an adult version of Skinamarinky Dinky Dink.  I noted the man I saw nearly everyday who looked vaguely like jesus.  I watched a woman unpack and repack and entire suitcase of food (4,5 not 6 in full disclosure) and sweat profusely into a bag of dorritos which she inhaled in a matter of seconds. 

I began to settle into my life in new york, I slowly but surely found joy in riding the subway, as it was a way to let go of control and read a book.  People watch.  You name it.  

And now I almost look forward to the subway every day.  But I think, in reality, that has to do with the A/C.

What Nau?

So in my very waxing poetic post about nau, I told you a bit about what happened. But guess what? They are back in action!

So go load up on the cheap stuff (all at 50%) off while you still can! And be excited for all new stuff coming up in August.

I'm pretty excited. Won't lie.

The Things you See on the F Train to Brooklyn

1. A man holding steamed crab in his lap. Its precarious, he's asleep, and I am convinced that by the next stop I will be covered in the remnants of crab and clarified butter. And yet, as much as it dangles and the claws shake with every movement of the train, it remains unmoved.

2. A pile of destroyed fried chicken in the corner. As if no one would notice an entire KFC bucket of bones. Oh I noticed. And it made me hungry.

3. I was asked if I was married or had a boyfriend. (Please note: At the time I had a fauxhawk, was wearing baggy jeans, no makeup, a purple polo shirt and aviator sunglasses.) I stared at him, and screamed in my head "LOOK AT ME!!! DO I LOOK LIKE I HAVE A BOYFRIEND!!!" My blank stare obviously confused him, as he sat done next to me and proceeded to ask if he would date me. I got off at the next stop and changed cars.

4. I was reading a book, a calculus textbook to be exact. Some man comes up to me and asks if I can stop reading my book because my elbows are taking up too much space.

5. (And on an adorable note) A pile of children with their mother. All children are asleep (probably aged 2-6), and she is reading a book. You have to wonder what she gave the munchkins to get them all to fall asleep in a proverbial pile on the F Train.

sense of loss

last night I discovered some sad news. My favorite retail company based out of Portland, OR called NAU filed for bankruptcy on Thursday.

About a year ago I was walking around the 29th Street Mall in Boulder, CO. I was soaking in the sunlight, breathing fresh air, and feeling genuinely happy about life. I passed an interesting looking store which was slated to open in a few days.

So naturally I went back. It was heaven. I have always been an outdoor clothes girl, I am a Boulderite of course. This left me less than fashionable. NAU transcended this and became known to enthusiasts as "patagonia meets prada". Their clothes made me feel like a million bucks. To top it of everything was organic or recyclable. Closed loop recyclable polyester, organic cotton, exquisite styling, neutral and wearable colors. The people they employed were a tribute to their company. Living breathing testimonies to living a clean, organic life with an emphasis on enjoying the outdoors. The business practices of NAU were unusual as 5% of your purchase went to a non-profit of your choice. During their first year of business, NAU donated nearly a quarter of a million dollars to charities. In addition, the highest paid staff member of NAU could not make more than 12 times that of the lowest paid. Being that the lowest paid staff member was only making 10 dollars an hour, the highest couldn't make more than 250,000k per year. Which may seem like a lot, but PALES in comparison to that of what a CEO at Nike makes (upwards of 5 million dollars a year, with the lowest staff member making 8 dollars an hour).

I was a NAU posterchild, and nearly 90 percent of my wardrobe became exclusively NAU. Now, I have a reason to branch out. But what I find most frightening, is that such a business model challenges the very way in which an organization functions, and became a mirror for many new business. If a business founded on sound principles cannot make it, that is sorely disappointing.

All I can say, is that NAU was a testament to the things that are good in the world, especially when it comes to positive business practices. Someday another sustainable clothing company will make it, but in the mean time, this is a sad day for sustainable retail.

much welcome.

just today i was sitting on the subway lamenting my past life in the little cow town. the smell of fresh air. the breeze that flows uninhibited, not forced through pathways of towers. the sound of. god forbid. silence. the way in which the mountains look at first light. i stared at the well dressed wall street crowd surrounding me, decked to the nines by people i have never met before. dolce. prada. fendi. jacobs. i was homesick. stifled. exhausted. subway weary (oh god how i hate the subway). i felt utterly out of control, with my destiny haphazardly placed in the hands of a drunken menace on a joy ride.

i remember, nearly a year ago, packing up my girlfriend's jeep and uhaul. loading up the dog and cat and heading east. uncertain but excited. i dreamed of the glitz and glam that new york city could offer me. the shimmer of sunshine on immense glass windows. the sound of a constant, neverending buzz that kept the city alive. i had friends sending me anything they could to convince me my decision was in earnest. blogs that documented beautiful burlesque dancers, party promoters, photographers. websites that touted potential employers. links to postings on craigslist for that vespa i had always dreamed of. reviews to restaurants i should try. you name it, it was in my inbox.

i had big dreams. monumental dreams.

and i exit the subway today in my schulmpy boots decked to the fours perhaps? toting with me only broken dreams, two twenty page papers, and the fear i will never succeed. dark circles, touseled hair. unkempt without remorse. weight of the finals session in academia on my shoulders.

as i mounted the last stair onto broadway i suddenly felt a vice-like grip at my back, shoving me out of my pessimism. without a warning i was surrounded by city hall park, cherry blossoms, and the utter bliss of warmth. i felt enlivened, and my optimism began to blush my cheeks pink.

my life today is anything but what i thought it would be when i left my home town, post college, with the belief i could tackle anything tucked delicately in my pocket. now i am taking comfort in my uncertainty, learning to embrace the pure potential this city has to offer.

lets hope this feeling lasts.