Dear NYC...

I’m writing this post from the comfort (and quietness) of my patio in my lovely backyard (now complete with flowers). I have a new-found appreciation for days like today after my latest adventure in your hood. Last week I took a break from my not-so busy schedule and headed out of town to spend a few days with you.

For as long as I can remember I’ve always loved visiting your city. In high school I saved my cash for rent and couldn’t wait to escape the white-picket-fence-stepford-wife-like suburbs of Colorado and head out to the city that never sleeps. Every time I visit, there is a part of me that can’t wait to apartment shop and start a new chapter of life with you. But just a little part. For now I will just keep visiting and appreciating you from afar. So thank you NYC for being you and always teaching me new things every time I visit…

· Times Square makes my head hurt. I do not enjoy it.
· Maid in Manhattan is apparently based on a true story and has inspired maids everywhere to “borrow” guests’ belongings. Reported missing LBD Tuesday, returned to the closet by Thursday.
· There is no such thing as an early dinner.
· $5 for a small soy latte is a steal.
· It’s all about survival of the fittest (this applies to cabs, jobs, clothes, tables with great views, and the dressing room line at H&M).

· Bike messengers do not value human life.
· Same goes for most cab drivers. Especially the one who drove me to the airport.
· Cupcakes will instantly bring you out of the depression you fall into after realizing you can’t afford anything in Intermix these days. Give me a red velvet with vanilla cream icing and I'm in heaven.

· On that note, the shops on Bleecker are not for the faint of heart.
· If you’re not sassy, rude, or grumpy, no need to apply at Zara.
· Hotel concierges should know a thing or two about good restaurants aside from what Google can tell them. I do not want to eat at TGI Friday’s thankyouverymuch.
· And when the concierge recommends a “great lunch spot” simply go around the corner to find something better. No need to pay $25 for a caesar salad at the place his brother works at.
· Eat something before LaGuardia. Even if has to be TGI Friday’s.
· Note to cab drivers: honking does not make the traffic move faster nor does it make red lights turn to green. You can get me from point A to point B without your horn.
· Never, I say never make eye contact in Harlem. Lots of creepers.

(Check out the view from my wannabe office in the Hearst Tower)

FOMO...

The first step is admitting the problem, no? F.O.M.O. I have it. Fear of missing out. Symptoms include never wanting to miss happy hours, lunch dates, weekend trips, episodes of the Real Housewives... you get the point, this list can go on and on. Which is precisely why this little blog of mine has gotten the shaft recently (sorry about that). But as I’ve said before, life has been happening and I’ve been loving every second of it.

Aside from job searching my life away, my week was full of puppy-sitting (which was an instant mood booster), a coffee date in Boulder on one of the most gorgeous days I’ve ever seen, gardens, painting, wine nights, and a visit to Kathy’s for Sarah’s bridal shower. (Side note: I met four of the most amazing ladies while working at BBW in college. Lisa, Sarah (the bride-to-be), Colyn and Kathy are like food for the soul).

(Colyn, Husband, Me, Lisa, Brandon (Lisa's husband), Kathy, and Sarah)

So I have a little extra time on my hands these days and decided that I am going to take full advantage of those things that I’ve always been “too busy” to do. I don’t want to miss out on the fun things that have been on the to-do list for what seems like an eternity. (Yes, husband, the job search remains the numero uno priority, don’t worry). But don’t the flowers in the backyard look great? I discovered the wonders of the garden section at Home Depot this past weekend. And the guest bathroom that we’ve always wanted to re-do? Yep, I started that project. The running shoes are coming out of hibernation and I’m dusting off that yoga mat I’ve never used. Might even get a little crazy and take a spin class at the old gym-bo.

But for now, I need to pack. Early flight to NYC tomorrow (the not-so-ideal city to have FOMO in because there is just too much to see and do). And this time I’ve pinky sweared with my husband that I will not return with a list of places for us to live and a moving company that will help us get there. Plus I don’t think Rocco would enjoy the city as much as I do...

"Say hello to my little friend…"

No worries, there are no M16 assault rifles or grenade launchers here…those really aren’t my thing. To be honest, the movie Scarface isn’t really my thing, either. But nevertheless the infamous line is fitting for today’s post. Meet Rocco…

Rocco is the pup that we stumbled upon one snowy day back in December. The Humane Society was having an “adoption sale” and being the sucker for sales that I am, decided to check it out. If you don’t believe that love at first sight exists, then clearly you have never stepped foot inside a humane society full of adorable little guys looking for a home to spend their lives in. Much like Target, I have no willpower in places like this. Rocco came home with us the very next day. And hasn’t left our side since. He is our extremely spoiled doggie child.

We have experienced our fair share of chewed up picture frames - yes, the fancy metal ones that previously showcased our wedding pictures (for some reason he isn’t into shoes…let’s keep it that way). We have spent small fortunes at Petsmart on toys that didn’t live through the night. He has even shown off his interior decorating skills a time or two..

And yes, I hate to admit it, but I’m pretty sure I’ve cooked Rocco dinner (per vet's orders) more than I’ve cooked for Husband. But I wouldn’t trade Rocco (well maybe a few of the vet visits in March) for the world. Yesterday I even overheard Husband say to him, “Rocco, I hope that whenever kids come into our life, they are half as cool as you are.”

Yes, all of the catchy clichés apply right now…

When life gives you lemons… Make one heck of a lemon drop martini? Yes, please.

All of the catchy clichés apply right now. It’s been a few days since the last post and I know this is probably breaking some unspoken blogging rule, but rules are made to be broken, right? Oddly enough, life has been happening. The last few days have been a flurry of baby showers, champagne toasts, catching up with great friends, and cover letters. Not to mention Husband returned from a boys weekend in Vegas and the job search is now in full force.

To be quite honest, the Vegas trip had me worried at first. Not about silly things “happening in Vegas and staying in Vegas” (my husband is not that kind of guy and doesn’t have that kind of friends) but because of what life handed me last week. But everything happens for a reason, and it is with a smile that I can say “Thank you Las Vegas for paying our mortgage and for helping Husband find his way into a few of my favorite shops.” Yes, it finally happened. Someone actually won money in Vegas. I guess if at first you don't succeed, try, try, (and try) again?

There’s more…Turns out the little angel on my shoulder (we’ll call her Stephanie, and oddly enough she doesn’t hang out on my shoulder, but lives in San Francisco) got the best of my conscious and I crossed the Neimans trip off of the top of my to-do list. Yes, you will find the Neimans trip in good company on that list next to things like get a job, update LinkedIn, and dry clean the power suit.

I guess I didn’t need the retail therapy after all (Target sooo doesn’t count). Husband did it for me at the expense of our good friend, Las Vegas. And as luck would have it, I am now the proud owner of some sassy new Coach goods.

I need to confess something…

Yes, I might be out of a job…but I want nothing more to buy fabulous *new* shoes. Call it superficial…call it what you want. When life hits the fan, some people turn to comfort food or to their spirituality, others to working out. Not necessarily my thing. Me? I want nothing more than to blow a stupid amount of cash on a ridiculous pair of heels. Maybe it’s the fact that my (professional) life was all about shoes for the past two and a half years and I maybe slightly abused my employee “perks” (yes, that’s what we’ll call them) and my feet are yearning for something more these days…like the ones with the red soles (wink wink husband..those are what I affectionately call “Loubies”).

I know my parents raised me better than this. I know it’s probably not the best decision I could make right now. To be quite honest, there is a very small part of me that thinks this ranks right up there with spending your unemployment checks on booze. Trust me…I learned all about financial responsibility the hard way. Turns out becoming a regular at Coach and at Nordstrom wasn’t the best decision I could have made with my first credit card. I remember that Christmas well…my parents returned every.single.present that they had for me and graciously loaned me cash to pay off my (stylish) debt. Learned my lesson that day and have never made that mistake again.

So why is there this part of me that can’t wait to walk through the doors at Neiman’s tomorrow and head straight to my favorite department, pick out the loves of my life, and walk out temporarily satisfied with a ridiculous pair of heels? Yes, I’m talking about the ones with the red soles.