Life in the Trees.

Thirty-three years ago I was born, and from that moment the confusion started. Every month I wanted to be something new when I grew up (architect, dancer, research scientist, actress, athlete, professor.....oh yeah, and wild treehouse-dwelling skinned-knee princess).

Even now, in my allegedly grownup state (oh hello, 'adulting', how are you?), I still want to grab every adult woman I see by the shoulders and just shake her screaming Hooooow? How do you do this? If she has a career or a family or even both (let's assume mommy is Leaning In), I just want to cry at her, How do you do it? How do you take something that is a passion and just make the leap and decide to do it all the time as your job, without being worried about having one, two, or three backup part-time jobs for the paycheck that take all your time and energy? 

If you aren't following your passion, then how do you get up every morning and go off to a job that you most likely hate, without one day snapping, throwing off all your clothes and running shrieking off to the woods to become a wild treehouse-dwelling princess? 

And for the love for everything that is womankind will someone please tell me HOW does anyone have the courage to have a child in this world, without being crushed to death by anxiety and fear? Will any one of you kindly ladies please tell me HOW???

I don't do any of this, however, because there are laws against assault, and these ladies have enough to do without a wild-eyed thirty-three year old womanchild shaking them by the shoulders and screaming unintelligibly. But still, the urge is there. Instead, I adjust my sunglasses, take another sip of my iced coffee, and wonder, for the thousandth time, if it's not too late to run off and become a treehouse-dwelling princess after all.

(posted by Laurel)

A true test of character

Once upon a time, there lived an evil sorcerer called "The MTA".  Every other weekend, he would commit heinous fuckery and toy with the mostly good samaritans (not counting tourists) of New York City.  It would wield its evil magic through the guise of "construction" and "train traffic", and cause much mayhem and tragical tragedy.  This is where our hero, Grace, found herself today; caught between the war of the blue and red line; her Burts Bees war paint shining in the fluorescent lighting.

She had just had a spicy brined margarita, so she was well prepared and determined to see this journey through. With pointy little elbows and tiny sausage legs, she forced her way through the crowd of questionable youths and surprisingly aggressive old ladies to finally make her way on the C train, and soon she was awaiting the A. For twenty minutes. In heels.  (Though she be but little, she is fierce.)

After the the battle of the A train, she rushed towards the pits of the shuttle bus of the one, casualties of war gathering before her because they were too busy staring at their phones.  She gallantly galloped to the bus and exclaimed "I'm getting on motherfuckers!" and "Pardon me".  She had to stand in those painful things they called shoes, but she was standing strong.

She is currently on a very big Mac, drinking some wine and resting her weary feet.  She reflected on her battle this afternoon, and took away this;

Sometimes, there will be things you can not control and it will have the power to ruin your day just by the sheer annoyance it causes you, and the frustration of being so powerless.  But all you can do is throw your elbows, dive into the fray, and imagine the holy grail that is a glass of red wine awaiting you.

Life is going to fuck you in the ass sometimes, and it doesn't care if you have a hemorrhoid.  All you can do is relax and provide the appropriate aftercare.

-Grace, #Adulting

Is it hormones, or do I just suck?

How do you know what you're good at? Or what you could be good at? I mean, I know for sure I'm a decent singer, and that I can walk 5 dogs at once. And I'm pretty good in bed. Alas, I will not be taking part in the world's oldest profession, so that's out. 

This whole week I've made several stupid mistakes in terms of my job. It's not a hard job. It's downright boring at times. My coworkers go out of their way to make sure I don't do anything too difficult. I'm basically paid to act like a functioning adult on my boss' behalf. 

I also want to cry all the time. So, it might also be hormones. Like, a homeless person just came on the train and now I feel really bad for her even though she is obviously crazier than a bag of chocolate covered xanies and has commandeered 4 seats with her stuff. But she doesn't smell that bad, and she has some dried flowers in a cup in her shopping cart. 

And now I'm tearing up. 

Excuse me. 

How did I get coffee in my eyebrows?

Sometimes, bodily functions have really bad timing. Like all those times I fart myself awake while sleeping next to my boyfriend. Or this morning, when I sneezed into my coffee.

But go me, because I didn't get any on my boyfriend's nice couch. But I did get it all over me. Ah well.

I have a unique history of spilling things on me at the most inopportune moments. One time in college, I was hardcore (aka last minute) studying for a Biology final, and my method of studying was to basically rewrite the text book by hand. It sort of worked, since I did get a B+ in that class as the only non-science major. So anyway, I'm studying and it's almost 1 a.m and I'm tired. I need caffeine. Unfortunately, every place on campus that sells coffee is closed (during finals week, REALLY Adelphi?!?) and the only thing at my disposal is green tea that has been very kindly offered by my friend Kate.

So I make the tea. My friend Mike who is helping me study pours it into the cup. I go to pick UP the cup...

and my hand cramps so badly it collapses and I spill boiling hot tea all over my hand.

Needless to say, my writing abilities were severely hindered for the rest of the night. I did the ole hispanic remedy of toothpaste on a first degree burn, so luckily I could write in time for the final. Actually, come to think of it, we hispanics use toothpaste for a lot of things.

Well, at least we smell fresh.

-Grace #adulting

In Honor Of Maya Angelou

World class woman. Icon. Fierce bitch. Prolific.

These don't even come close to encapsulating what Maya Angelou was.

She is also the prime example that sometimes you don't truly start your true career path until later in life, she not truly dedicating herself to her writing and human rights work until she was about 30.

 She also worked as a stripper. I worked as the door girl to a strip club once, so...we have that in common. She was someone that showed me it was OK to be a sexual being and that it didn't mean you had so self worth.

So thanks Maya Angelou. You give me hope that all my #adulting will lead somewhere.

-Grace

How do I adult?

First, Laurel totally made up this term. Full credit goes to her, I'm just piggybacking.

I'm Grace, 24 year old woman-child trying to figure out how the fuck do I adult in NYC. Just struggling under the burden of this quarter life crisis and trying to pretend I have applicable life skills.

What is adulting? Adulting is celebrating the most basic level of human functionality that slightly separates you from a toddler. But sometimes, when I'm drunk, there really is no difference.

Like, when I had cereal and greek yogurt for breakfast BEFORE having the Reese's PB cups.

Or when I realized I could vacuum my windows instead of cleaning them by hand. And my A/C.

Or that time I got an acting degree and now 3 years later I'm playing a skanky fairy and working in an office.

#Adulting, one bullshit day-job at a time.
First, Laurel totally made up this term. Full credit goes to her, I'm just piggybacking.

I'm Grace, 24 year old woman-child trying to figure out how the fuck do I adult in NYC.

What is adulting? Adulting is celebrating the most basic level of human functionality that slightly separates you from a toddler.

Like, when I had cereal and greek yogurt for breakfast BEFORE having the Reese's PB cups.

Or when I realized i could vacuum my windows instead of cleaning them by hand. And my A/C.

Or that time I got an acting degree and now 3 years later I'm playing a skanky fairy and working in an office.

#Adulting, one bullshit day-job at a time.