Walking Slowly and Running

This morning I woke up late, opening my eyes and then closing them again as I decided numerous times between 9:40 and 10:40 to continue sleeping.
I laid around reading, Garlic and Sapphires and the fiction issue of The New Yorker until I had to get dressed and meet Matt for lunch. I gave myself enough time to walk leisurely down to 74th st. I decided that I wanted to try and walk slowly, relax as I strolled to lunch, I hit up Starbucks, popped in my ear buds and was ready to go.
At first I found myself hustling along with the rest of the Saturday afternoon crowds, but I forced to myself to slow my pace and got in to a great rhythmic stroll. I didn't worry about elderly women on walkers I could see ahead of me, I didn't bump in to anyone maneuvering to pass them and oncoming pedestrians. I wasn't passing anyone, and it was okay.
"I can walk slowly!" I thought excitedly to myself. "This feels great!"
I glanced at myself in store windows as I passed by, dark jeans, black fleece, white headphones, black sunglasses. "I look so chic!" I thought. This slow walking thing was turning out great. My confidence was boosted. Walking slowly gave me time to think about how good I felt in myself, how happy I was in the moment. I wasn't worrying about getting somewhere, in fact I was so nonchalant, I walked down to 2nd by mistake and when I reached 70th st. realized I was on the wrong avenue and had walked too far south. Oh well!
After returning from lunch, my nails freshly painted and a catch-up convo with Mom under my belt I decided it was time to do something I had been wanting to do since we moved and had only done once with Mom- run around the Jackie Onassis Reservoir. It is the perfect place to run in the city and since it was so unseasonably warm today, the perfect day to do it. I suited up and headed out, my new workout mix pumping in my headphones. I ran light and strong, I felt good. I had been nervous leaving to do it alone, especially since the sky was darkening by the time I left my building, but I knew there'd be others on the paths and that it was about time I took advantage of such a great running area so close to home.
After the first mile I finally reached and surpassed a man that had been running in front of my from the beginning. I felt great. My confidence was boosted again, the lightness from earlier in the morning hadn't left me and before I knew it I had run both loops and was exiting the park. The views were breathtaking. As you loop around the inner track of the reservoir you see the skyline of the city lit up in front of you, all the buildings bunched together in that perspective light up the sky with a brilliance that reminds me how much I love living here and how lucky I feel to be in this place, not only geographically and physically but mentally too.

Whether walking slowly and taking it in little by little or running quickly and getting it in in a breath and a look, I love New York.

A Lonely Bed

I think I've written here before about an odd phenomenon that would happen to me on weekend nights when I was living in Somerville. I would just stay up late in to the night and not want to turn the TV off even when I was ready for bed and about to fall asleep. It was something about the company of the flickering screen and the loneliness I wasn't releasing, I believe. Since moving to NY it hasn't happened, we don't have a TV in the bedroom here and I'm not lonely when I get in to bed- okay Matt does stay up hours after I retire normally- but I can hear him in the living room and that comforts me.
Tonight he is in Queens being with his Mom as they tend to and grieve together over his sick, dying, childhood dog. Sure I whined a little when he found out at 10pm she needed him there, but that is surely more important than me getting him for a couple of hours tonight when we live together.
I've slept alone here a couple of times, but not unexpectedly like this. I'm feeling a magnetic push away from the bed, I want pretty badly to just climb in to it and fall asleep especially since before last night I had fitful nights of coughing and little sleep, but as hard as I try and push my body there it just won't click. Which explains me still being at 2am with a marathon of Clean House under my belt and my Google Reader all marked as read. A lonely bed is not an inviting one.
And, although I feel somewhat pathetic admitting that one night apart makes me sad and lonely, I know that it is because giving up something you're used to without much warning is hard to adjust to. I know I'm not the only one.
But tomorrow I have big plans of shopping and cleaning and maybe filling another evening apart with somethings or someone, so I've got to get some rest tonight and sleep aids will ensure that my lonely mind isn't racing for too long.
At least making the bed will be easy in the morning.

Love is for the lucky, and the brave

For Thanksgiving this year I printed out fortunes and put them in each napkin so when we all sat down to eat, we each got a fortune to read and muse on as we said what we were thankful for. At first I wanted to write my own and then I realized it was going to take way too much work so I found some good ones on the wonderful World Wide Web.
The title of this post was one of those fortunes. And it is not so much a fortune, I know, but it is so true. It was probably my favorite among the ones I found, and I really am finding more and more that it is a sentiment that really resonates strongly with me and my life.
Death can cause many to grow more scared of love and the risk you take when letting someone become such an important part of your life. I really never thought twice about how much closer I would become with the people I love after my Dad died. When I think about it now, I realize how scary it could be for someone different than me, and I can see how a person dealing with great loss would and could push others away. For me this wasn't true,
There were a few months when my plans to move to New York were put on indefinite hold and I was ready to make a life for myself in Boston or even further North to be as close as possible to my Mom and Brother. In my head Matt would work something out with school and he'd come to Boston too, we'd make it work. There was a moment last fall when I was sitting on the porch of my Mom's house talking about the future, her wishing I'd get engaged, Sammy wishing I'd produce a nephew for him ASAP. A lot of my family was looking to me for the happy news we all needed. I realized in those moments that regardless of where it would take me, that I needed to be with Matt, and that meant moving to NY. I talked to Sammy and Mom about it and they both were nothing less than supportive and excited. I could never know how much longer I'd have with Matt and the time I did have should be spent with him.
Moving to New York was probably one of the best decisions I've ever made. Matt and I are happier than ever to be living together and it's been 9 months. Some friends told me that the storm might hit after 3 months, but it didn't. Other friends told me that pre and post engagement would be filled with him acting more in love than ever, but the pre and post have come and gone and the love and passion still very much remain.
And it is terrifying.
The other night I lay in bed trying to fall asleep. I was exhausted but couldn't sleep. My mind drifted and I thought, as I have in restless attempts to sleep many times, of my Dad. I thought about a picture we have framed and hanging of him holding me up as a baby, getting ready to toss me up in the air. I miss him, so much and I still can't believe that he is gone and it is often in those quiet moments before sleep when the pain comes at me sharply. Then I thought of Matt, of how deeply I love him, how much a part of me he is. And then my restless mind and overactive imagination thought of losing him, I pictured myself in our apartment without him, leaning against walls crying as I had to take down pictures of us together.
I don't know how I would go on. I would be so utterly and completely crushed. We have come together in these past months so effortlessly, our lives fit together so smoothly and everything feels so right and so good. How could I ever not have that? My love, our love, having deepened and strengthened is such an enormous blessing in my life, and in my family’s lives too. Yet, at the same time, in these moments my fears are heightened, and I'm even more scared of losing him, not us breaking up because I have no fear of that, of something happening to him- mind, body or soul. Love is for the lucky and brave, how true.

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Busy Bee

For the last 6 months or so at work my coworker has warned me about the busyness of the holiday season. I just kept thinking about what it was like at past jobs, you were busy trying not to gain 10lbs from all the vendor gifts that arrived- oh those tubs of popcorn- and brushed it off. This week, however I learned how busy it really can be. I guess you don't really realize it can get that way considering our tasks were minor things- but all added up... damn.
I was balancing important meetings and decisions with planning a holiday pot-luck and signing holiday cards. Unfortunately I feel like I let some of the more "important" pieces of my job slip while putting together a kick ass party and making up for my being out on Friday by signing extra cards. I found myself scrambling to get ready for meetings I'd been preparing for for weeks and not responding to emails, that really can wait until Monday, because I had to string lights in the conference room.
I went into my job search adamantly against being in any type of Executive Assistant role. I wanted independent responsibilities and did NOT want to be scheduling, answering phones for, or constantly reporting in to someone. The job I took requires that I assist in scheduling for my boss, but in all other ways I am NOT an Executive Assistant. However, as much as I am against being in an Executive Assistant role, I feel like all of a sudden I'm really falling down when it comes to the schedule and I'm disappointed. Considering I came from a place where it was 50% of my daily responsibilities to maintain 2 executive's schedules (Thank God I was given interesting projects to work on to balance that) and I did it pretty well, I'm confused at my lack of ability to keep my bosses calender up to date considering how easy she is, how easy her schedule is and that I'm in most of the meetings she is. She has come in at least 3 times in the last week and asked if a meeting really was happening because she just sat in the room for 10 minutes and no one came. Ugh.
Part of me thinks it is my desire to not have to schedule coming out- but if I want to excel in my job I have to do all pieces of it well, even the ones I don't like.
So, why am I writing about this here when I've kind of already figured the problem out and am committed to fixing it? Maybe because it is a more public place and the commitment is likely to stick if I put it out here like this? Maybe because there may be co-workers that read this and if I suspect they've read this I'll want to be even better? I don't really know. Part of me has been wanting to write this post all week, but waited until the weekend because, I was just too damn busy and in that time between thinking of writing this down and getting it down, I think I've fixed the problem.
Here's to next week being a bit less busy and my cold being a lot better by Monday!

Sunday Morning

Wings and Beer

I’m typically a home body, especially during the work week. I need my chill out time. I just can’t do the boozing during the week and still feel like I can get through the rest of the work week with any sense of normalcy. I’m a girl of routine- and that involves lots of sleep. I love having dinner plans, and seeing people during the week, don’t get me wrong. But I’m just not the type to go out drinking on a Tuesday. I’m sure being in a serious relationship changes my attitude towards it, and age too, now that I think about it. Not that I went out during the week when I was a recent college grad- but I went out on the weekends a lot more.

Last night friends invited us for $.25 wings and beer a local bar. I was feeling a tad exhausted and my stomach wasn’t really in the mood for wings and beer- but Matt really wanted to go so I pushed through and headed into the snowy night. I skipped the beer, why waste the carbs on bad lite beer, especially when I could replace them with fries (does that make me sound totally diet crazy?). As we stood waiting for a table, the delicious smell of buffalo sauce, good buffalo sauce, enticing us, some friends of friends who had come to join were discussing recent night-out adventures. Making out with boys in corners, being weirded out by weird guys lingering too long. I nodded as she animatedly described various situations she’d recently been in, specifically cottage cheese boy, because kissing him was like kissing cottage cheese. She then exclaimed that her co-workers had taken shots of vodka at the office before heading out that night. I just kept nodding. I really had nothing to say in response. The stories were funny, cottage cheese boy especially and her friend kept asking her about different men she’d heard mention of in passing. But I couldn’t relate, I can’t relate.

For a few minutes a part of me was jealous. It sounds like fun, the various crazy people you run in to when out and about, the young single woman on the town sex and the city type lifestyle. There are small parts of me still that would love to try it on for a week or two, going out to fun new places, dancing in to the night and then waking up to kick ass at some high powered job. But it is just not who I am, I think there is always going to be part of me that could connect to that lifestyle from afar and appreciate the draw, the lure of the fast and fabulous. There is a bigger part of me that likes the simple pleasures my current life offers, like cuddling up under a fleece with Matt rubbing my feet after work, or going to the gym together and coming home to cook dinner and kick his ass at Scrabble, and especially having good friends here that I can meet up with for dinner, home or out, bad TV or gossip over brunch. And weren’t all the SATC characters looking for that deep down? Lucky me, I’ve got it.

Snow Day

It was snowing this morning when I woke up. I walked in to the bathroom and exclaimed, "Oh man, it's snowing!" I climbed over Matt back in to bed and pulled the blinds up. I got back in to the our still warm bed, under our 3 blankets and lay on my side watching the white flakes come down.
I love watching the snow fall, as cold as I know it is outside it makes me feel warm. We walked out to get breakfast, the air was cold, but I felt comfortable in my down and fleece. I felt like I was a part of winter, real winter, with snow and cold air and covered bodies walking the streets around me.
Later it turned slushier and browner, but the image of it coming down outside my bedroom window remained with me, and I hope for many more mornings much the same.