Life Now

Well. I definitely wasn't planning on disappearing for a month and a half. But things happen. And I frankly haven't been in the best mindset or had much to write about. Here's a recap:

- going away dinner with my church fam

- last Sunday at church where I was prayed over

- packing

- surgery prep

- surgery, which involved an awful several hours delay they failed to inform me about after Mom and I stayed up all night to be at the hospital at the crack of dawn, but a successful surgery that officially diagnosed me with endometriosis and removed what docs could find

- moved back to NC the day after surgery (thanks to church people loading the truck) (that was a fun 12 hour ride home)

- the week after surgery, I came down with a massive case of bronchitis and a sinus infection, and because my body rejects steroids now, it's been a month of breathing treatments trying to get over it

- I wrote my thesis

- I got an A on my thesis (!!!!!!!!!!)

- now, I'm trying to a) find online work to make some money while I'm stuck home for a year and b) figure out what schools I'm going to apply to for next year's PhD programs

I'm very lonely here. I have heard from practically no one up in NYC, and because I've been so sick and exhausted, I haven't had the energy to reach out to them. Thank God Matt is back in the area now. If I didn't get occasional visits from him, I would have absolutely no one outside of my very dysfunctional family.

I moved from a huge city where I could just walk out my front door and have endless entertainment, to a small town where you have to drive to see anything and I don't have a license or a car, and there's not that much to see anyway. The silence is not good for me. I have been getting way too caught up in my own head thinking about all the people I've lost and all the relationships that have failed and all the things I wish I could change but that I know I can't do anything about. And the fun part about it is that my life isn't going to be changing any time soon.

I did get a call from August today, which is the first time I feel like I've smiled when thinking about New York since I left.

I don't know. This is the way life is for now. I guess I better get used to it.

So then July happened.

Well. Wasn't planning on abandoning my blog for the month of July, but things happened, and I learned that the longer you go without doing something, the easier it is to continue not doing it.

So, let's recap, shall we?

I had a few weeks of seizure hell, but adding yet another medicine seems to be helping. Cross your fingers it stays that way.

I severely sprained my wrist in one of those seizures, which is a large part of the reason why I wasn't blogging, because typing hurts really, really badly and takes a lot of energy.

I'm incredibly behind on my thesis, largely for these two reasons, and it seems like I'm being ghosted by my adviser and department so I can't get an answer on when exactly it's due which is just adding to my stress.

I finally got my surgery set up for August 19th, which is later than the doctor originally told me it was going to happen. I cannot wait for that day to get here because I am miserable from pain.

My depression has been rearing its ugly head for these reasons, but one other one is the biggest reason for it. I'm leaving New York. On August 20th. I don't really have a choice. The financial situation in the family that's been going on for the past year and a half is no longer sustainable, and despite me sending out a crapload of resumes, I didn't get a single callback. So no money. No job. No PhD program acceptance. I have to go back to North Carolina. And I hate it. I HATE IT. I thought when I moved up here, I was finally freeing myself from all of the negativity and drama back there and planned on never going back, and two years later, here I am, headed back to the place I never wanted to live again.

Don't get me wrong. There are things I will be happy about seeing/having/doing regularly again. Like my mom and Blake. And the food. And the beach. And the sports. But the idea of leaving everyone I love here is heartbreaking to me. So I'm really not okay right now. Time is running out quickly in the city I love with people who mean the world to me and it is making me very very sad.

So yeah. That about sums up July. I'll try not to abandon my blog in August.

Ah, peace and quiet. How I've missed you.

I don't know what is up with me this week, but all I want to do is sleep.

Actually, I probably do know what is up with me.

1. Anxiety over the future has hit now that graduation is over. Surprise, surprise.

2. I chipped a bone in my foot Sunday and probably also pulled a ligament in my ankle so now I'm on painkillers and muscle relaxers.

3. The roommate moved out for good so I no longer have to deal with her blasting her absolutely atrocious rap music all the dang time so loud you can hear it from the front door of my building (not kidding. I went to get food late one night and could hear her music as soon as I unlocked the main door, and there's a second door, and I live on the second floor, and her room is the furthest away from the stairs. and it was like 2 am.) She was, suffice it to say, a very selfish and inconsiderate roommate, and Holly and I are both relieved she's gone. The super could put someone new in her room, but he hasn't said anything yet, and I know he'll give us advanced notice.

(I actually had a nightmare that I came home one day and the roommate had moved back in. Talk about dread.)

Spring TV is ending this week. Guess there's no excuse for me not to start job hunting now, is there?

If only my body would stay awake long enough to do it.

A Day Worth Remembering

Somehow, I've lived in New York City for more than a year and a half, and this is the first time I made it here.

One World Trade and the 9/11 Memorial north and south pools. You can't understand how humbling and heartbreaking and moving it is to see these in person until you actually are there. I mean, I was 9 when 9/11 happened, so I remember that day, but it's one thing to know more than 3,000 people died in a matter of hours, and it's something totally different to see their names written out in front of you. So many names, written around the pools, I couldn't help but think about how we all knew that people died then, but not many of us actually knew people who died. But they were real people with families and loves and dreams and lives like the rest of us. What really got me, though, was this:

Someone stuck a white rose in the name of one of the people around the north pool (at least, I'm pretty sure it was the north pool, I may be wrong, though). Many of us hold dear the task of honoring the people who died on 9/11, but what is easy to forget is that they left families behind. Families who will forever grieve for the loss that hit them in one of the, if not the, most tragic ways possible. Prayers up for all those left behind.

Why did I go down there today? Well, I had a pretty legit reason.

Lauren is in town! Apparently 2016 is the year for me to meet longtime blog friends. She is in the city to see a show tonight, and since we've known each other for five years (at least!), we knew we had to work it out for us to get together even for a little bit. So this was the perfect excuse to see something new and meet this sweet lady! It's so fun to have online friendships come off the screen.

This is definitely a day worth remembering...for several reasons. :)

Next time, I'm just saying I have a boyfriend.

You know what's worse than one middle-aged cab driver hitting on you for an entire ride and trying to pick you up for a date even after he learns he's old enough to be your dad?

Answer: TWO middle-aged cab drivers hitting on you for an entire ride and trying to pick you up for a date even after they learn they're old enough to be your dad.

Both times, it basically started out with something in the conversation leading to the driver saying I'm smart, which led to him saying, "Smart and beautiful. Tell your boyfriend he's a lucky man."

I replied "Well, I don't have a boyfriend." The first time, I said it because I didn't realize he was going to continue hitting on me and ask me out. The second time, it was because I really didn't think this would be happening two rides in one afternoon.

This led to "You must be lying! How can a girl as smart and beautiful as you not have a boyfriend?" Then a bunch of stuff about how the guy that gets me will be lucky and they understood if the age difference was weird but they're available and maybe we could go out sometime. The first guy, when I told him he's old enough to be my dad, tried to blow it off as "oh, I didn't mean it had to be a date. We can be friends."

Blah blah blah. I couldn't get out of either of those cabs fast enough.

Holly told me that when they said I should tell my boyfriend that he's lucky to have me, that I should've just told them "I will" or "He knows". Next time I think I'm going with that advice.

What to do when your heart's in two places.

"Just think where you are! You're in NYC. People could only dream of living there."

This is what Jay told me when I talked to him about the loneliness I've been battling lately. It's also, frankly, what I've been telling myself a lot.

I know how lucky I am to be here, and I know that this is where I'm supposed to be at this point in my life in terms of schooling and figuring out the next step in my life and whatnot.

But in terms of fitting in? I just still don't feel like I belong here.

The only people I can really consider my friends at all are the people at church, but I really don't talk to them at all outside of Sundays, let alone see them. I never see Holly anymore, and the people in my classes are friendly in class, but everyone just rushes off as soon as it's over so there's no opportunity to talk. Because this is life in the city. Everyone is on the move all the time.

I do love my church, though. They are a family. They are the first church that I've really had good experiences at/with (Theater Church, looking back, was not a healthy place for me to be). I wouldn't have made it through this past year without them. And I am so, so glad I found them and am with them as a part of this church community.

But NC, Campbell, that's still where my heart says I belong. That's what I think when I say the word "home," which is why I tweeted this to Isaiah last night.

@izzyest21 Your #1 will be coming home where she belongs! Even if only for a few days.

— Mallory Jones (@_callmemal) October 18, 2015

Because in my gut, that's what it feels like. Even though my life and my mood have drastically improved over the past few weeks, I still can't wait to get home. I can't wait to have girl time with Summer, and see Nicole's house, and laugh with my boys again. I can't wait to give them the hugs that are long overdue. I can't wait to be surrounded by their infectious personalities and get that everything-is-right-in-the-world feeling that I seem to only get when I'm with them.

That tiny little campus out in what seemed like the middle of nowhere, that was the first place that ever felt completely safe for me. There wasn't anywhere close to the drama I had to deal with in Swansboro, and I met so many people that, when I did have problems, I knew would have my back without a second thought, people who are still with me even when we're so far apart.

I guess I'm just tired of being so far away from everything and everyone that makes sense to me. From the people who know me in my bones and that I have security with. It's like as soon as I found those people, and I found that security, I had to leave. And even though I know I still have that tight bond with several of them, it's just not the same. I can't get hugs from them when I'm sad, and I can't hug them and be right there with them when they need me. I hear their voices on the phone or see their faces on FaceTime, and it simultaneously makes me so happy because it reminds me of the authentic friendships that I have but it also makes my heart hurt because it reminds me that 530 miles is a lot and I can't get back there until January, and when I do, it'll only be a few days before I have to leave again and go through that heartache of remembering what I'm leaving behind all over again, just like I did this past January. Once a year for the people who know you the best and love you the most is just not enough.

So yeah, my heart is torn between here, the city I've always dreamed of living in and know is where I'm supposed to be, and there, the place that makes me feel safe and secure and has all the people that make everything seem okay and make me feel like I can conquer the world.

But is there really anything I can do? I don't have the money to go back early.

So all I can do is just suck it up and grow up and learn to deal with it. I'm not a real big fan of that answer, but it's all I've got.

New experience? CHECK!

Yesterday, I went to the opera.

That is THE Metropolitan Opera House.

To see this.

Tannhaüser by Wagner. My European Culture professor got us all tickets. Nicest professor ever.

We sat all the way up here.

On the highest level, but outside the theater, it gave me a cool view of everyone and everything else.

This was my face after Act 1.

Partially because the entire thing was in German so I didn't have the slightest clue as to what was happening. And partially because the cast and orchestra were PHENOMENAL.

It wasn't as ornate of a theater as I expected, but it was still beautiful. It was surreal to get to be there. I never thought I'd be at the Met at 23!

This was my favorite part of all, though. Lincoln Center Plaza all lit up. Left to right, these are the homes of the New York City Ballet, the Metropolitan Opera, and the New York Philharmonic. Just amazing to see these famous theaters up close.

All in all, the opera was a great experience, and I'm definitely glad I went. (I would've been a fool not to go when the ticket was free!) But I don't know if I'd do it again. Listening to people, no matter how talented they are, scream-sing at you in a language you don't know for 3.5 hours (thank God for long intermissions) is not a very comfortable experience. I had a massive headache before the first act was over.

But like I said, it was cool to see and a bit surreal, and it's very nice to be able to say I've been to an opera at the Met, so I definitely don't regret it in the least. :)

(PS Today is the launch day for Jeff Bethke's new book "It's Not What You Think"! Read my review here and go get it!)

Oh, happy day.

You know what's awesome?

Google Maps says there is 528 miles between my apartment and Main Street on Campbell's campus (I know, not as far as I thought, but still pretty freakin' far), and my boys still call me their number one supporter.

Some of them even act surprised that I still show them this much love from so far away, which I find a bit hilarious because, well, family over everything, and I still love them as much now as I did then.

Tonight's game was...intense to say the least. The first half was honestly a bit boring, ending scoreless. Then, within 15 minutes into the second half, it was 3-1, with two goals by one of our freshmen and one by our star Brad. Unfortunately, our opponent got up to 3-3, the last one off a penalty kick that I'm not sure I agree with, so we went to overtime. Golden goal. That makes me anxious beyond belief.

First overtime, meh. Some good shots but nothing went through.

Second overtime, some really close shots on both sides, but both goalies, especially my buddy Matt, worked their tails off. It wasn't until we got a PK with 2:35 left to play that things got fun. And Brad, or as I like to call him - Brad the Beast, won the game. Ah, PKs, they can be such a blessing and such a curse, as evidenced by this game tonight.

I've basically spent all week in bed because of this migraine, not even able to make it to class yesterday (yeah, I know), but today I was finally feeling better, despite only sleeping two hours last night. After eating breakfast, I went to the pharmacy to pick up meds, then despite calling ahead to make sure their photo equipment worked, when I got there it was down, so I had to walk two extra blocks to another pharmacy to print some photos, then I went to the post office to mail some stuff, then I came back. 8 avenue blocks and 2 street blocks in 80 degree weather? That was more walking in one excursion then I've done in probably the past two weeks combined. The good news is that, after I ate lunch, that exhaustion was enough for me to fall asleep for several hours until the game.

I also finally got back to work on the Anima videos this morning. I hate that it took me so long, but Jon totally understood that my health was a mess and I had a rough year. He even said it was "an incredible blessing" that I would make time for this, but I told him this was my attempt at saying thank you for the gift he and his videos have been in my life over the past two years. Hopefully I'll continue to get more done slowly in my spare time.

So I'm really happy tonight. I'm finally beginning to feel better. I got a gift in the mail. I got to get back to work helping my friends. And I got to watch my boys pull out a very close win and support them even from so far away. What more could I ask for?

One

One year.

One year ago today, I got on a train, got in a cab, and found myself here.

The steps of my own apartment in the middle of the city I never really thought I'd get to live in, let alone at 22, the craziest, biggest, loudest city in America.

And so began the biggest adventure of my life.

The biggest, and the hardest.

The past year in New York has been harder, more overwhelming, and crazier than I ever could have prepared myself for. But it's also been way better.

Let's recap, shall we?

I thought living with Holly would be a nightmare. Turns out, having her here has been a huge blessing. And our relationship has improved so much. I feel like finally (FINALLY!) we're not just sisters, we're friends, too. Friends who really like each other, who confide in each other, who like spending time together. We finally have the relationship I so desperately wanted growing up.

I immediately found a church who became family to me and helped carry me through this year. I'd have been so lost without them. I made friends who have prayed for me and with me and made me feel not alone in this huge and often lonely city.

I got my first experience of living with someone other than my sisters. It's been trying and exhausting and frustrating, but lately we've come to realize that even though we get on each other's nerves, we love each other, and we have each other's back. And that's what is important, not petty fights.

Grad school classes are the first real difficult education I've had in my life. They've stressed me out beyond all imagination, but it's also helped me come a long way in accepting that I'm doing my best, even if my grades aren't as high as they could be and they have been in the past. I've found myself chilling out a lot more and not panicking about my grades. I kind of had to, with all of the medical stuff that's been going on.

Speaking of that...a shoulder injury that lasted two and a half months before I had the surgery and then a month of recovery after, on my good arm, no less. Which makes doing classwork pretty dang difficult. An awful Prednisone reaction that left me in excruciating pain all over for weeks, barely able to move. A fractured ankle. A messed up wrist. And seizures. SO MANY SEIZURES. A lot of the time, I've been in survival mode, so my grades couldn't be my top priority, as much as I wish I could've pulled it all off.

There were many times when I missed my mom more than I ever expected I would before I came up here. But what was even harder was going from having all of my best friends within a five-minute walking distance of me to being hundreds of miles away from them. The people who filled my senior year with memories I hope I never forget could no longer be with me physically. I realized pretty early on that as happy as I was (am) to be here, my heart was split in two places, and that's an awful feeling. But at the same time, I learned what amazing friends I have, because I saw the friendships that meant the most to me surpass time and distance. Clayton, Austin, my soccer boys, even as far apart as we are, I have felt them cheering me on every step of the way. And that has meant more than they know. It's meant the world to me.

I finally got myself out from under Landon's spell. As luck would have it, moving 600 miles away is pretty helpful in getting out of an abusive relationship.

I've found more self-confidence in being myself when going out with Holly. Two guys have asked me for my number, which is something that has never happened before for me. (Granted, they went nowhere, but still, progress.)

I got to meet some of my favorite dancers from Dancing with the Stars. Bucket list moment? CHECK!

And Spiegel. Oh, my dear Spiegel family. My escape from the world, and the apartment. Sure, their food is amazing, but I keep going back there because the crew there has become my family in a way I never expected them to. They have taken care of me more times than I count. They have made me smile and laugh on bad days. They have let me hang out even when I had no money to eat just because I needed somewhere to be outside of my room. I feel at peace and at home as soon as I walk in, and that is a gift.

It's been a crazy amazing year. Sometimes it still feels surreal that I actually get to live here.

I'm excited and nervous and anxious to see what my life will look like a year from now. Guess there's only one way to find out...

On to year 2! Here we go!

I'm engaged! Or something.

Tonight I hung out with Christian and his girlfriend Tara for a little while. We were meeting at Spiegel. Tara got there way before Christian did because he was running late, so we had a lot of time to just sit there and talk and get to know each other.

Spiegel's two walls facing the street are just glass, which is great for people watching. Tara and I were sitting at a table up against one of the walls.

In the middle of our conversation, I spotted this guy walking towards the glass by the bench outside and bending down, so I thought he was just stopping to tie his shoe out of the way of passersby.

Except then he tapped on the glass.

I looked over, and he was down on one knee, motioning like he was opening up a ring box, pointing at me and blowing kisses.

I immediately looked over at Tara, and we both busted out laughing.

I looked back, and he was still doing the same motions.

I still couldn't stop laughing, but I blew him a kiss just for fun and he smiled big and then got up and walked off.

Stay weird, New York.

Now I remember why I liked living alone so much.

Because living with people, especially strangers you never asked to live with, is HARD. I thought living with Holly would be the hardest part. WRONG.

This apartment has turned into World War 3, all over a stupid shower mat.

I don't know about you, but I was raised not to throw away something that someone else bought, even if we've both been using it.

Ugh. Holly has numerous escape routes, but at least for the next two months, I'm stuck in this hellhole with that big old bucket of crazy.

In other news, I don't know that I've ever been more grateful for my sister. If it weren't for her, tonight would've turned out a whole lot worse.

It's just two months. I can do two months.

I don't have any other choice. All I know is that I cannot live with her again once our leases are up, and considering this is the only place that would rent to me, I better spend every night praying she gets the heck out, because I don't deserve to have to live with a bully. I thought I left that childish crap behind in North Carolina. I guess I was wrong.

One day at a time. At least I'll have the Anima project that I can finally get back to now that it's summer to keep me occupied in my room for the weekend.

Today was simple. And simply perfect.

 This is Manish.

And yes, that's also a mural of Albert Einstein holding a "Love is the Answer" sign in the background. I love New York.

He's the guy (Manish is, not Einstein) I've mentioned a few times over the past month, the one I met after that fight with Mom during that trivia night the week she was here.

The past month has been pretty hectic, so we finally got to hang out again today. On our first date, if that's what you'd call it, he mentioned wanting to take me to the Highline, which is basically this mile and a half long trail that covers about twenty block on the west side of Manhattan. So we made plans for today for a lunch of Mexican food (little did he know when he suggested this place that Mexican food is my favorite) and then a walk at the Highline. 

We were together more than three hours and every second of it was, in my eyes, absolutely perfect. And we didn't even doing anything spectacular. We ate and we walked and we talked about anything and everything and just enjoyed the scenery and weather and ate shaved ice and the most amazing ice cream sandwich ever created (because did I mention it was 80 degrees out today? PRAISE!). 

I got home and my muscles were shaking from all the walking but I was grinning from ear to ear because I couldn't even imagine that it was possible to be happier than I was today. The last time I remember being this happy was when I was back at CU with my soccer boys in January. 

And here's the thing: I don't know what the future holds, but I don't really even care because I just want to spend more time with him. It's so easy with us. There's never been any nerves or awkwardness. It just felt right. Like we've been friends for years, not weeks.

I've spent so long putting everyone and everything else first, that it's long past time I chase what makes me happy. So I'm going to do just that. And he, as far as I can tell, is part of that. 

Two Things I Love

Hot chocolate dates with friends who calm my nerves.

And the crew at Spiegel, who has easily become like a second family to me.

That is a heart one of the bartenders drew in my hot chocolate today. Spiegel is like a second home to me. I basically hang out there whenever I just don't want to go home yet, or I need to get out. At the very least, I stop by whenever I'm on my way out or on the way home to give hugs to whoever is on that shift. It's a pretty special bond we have going on.

People like the Spiegel crew, they make this crazy city feel even just a little less intimidating.

Since when did I become the responsible one?

I didn't make it to work today. A combination of still being pretty much comatose from my hospital stay + trying to get up when my alarm went off and barely being able to stand on my leg meant that it just wasn't going to happen.

I basically did not wake up again until I needed to eat dinner before my meeting. I have a group project in my Foreign Policy class, so my partners and I had to get together to figure some stuff. It was annoying. These guys talk way too much and get off on a lot of tangents, and one of the two argued with every little thing that I said or suggested.

Tonight, we went to Murphy's, the Irish pub where Holly works.We had so much fun! I couldn't drink at all because of the vicodin I'm on, but Holly and Mom drank plenty, plus we met a lot of Holly's work friends and they are awesome. We laughed so hard together. It was a bit rough being the only sober one and having to take care of them, though.

Around 1:30, we came home and all crashed hard. Thankfully, the two wild ones managed not to wake up the roommate.

"You will always be welcome here."

First Sunday, now today.

Since I'm fairly certain that as nasty as my leg, ankle, and foot look, they're just horrendously bruised, I decided to go back for another dance class today. (Plus, I missed it. What can I say? That place is infectious.)

I was nervous this time, only because the worrier in me was afraid that having two seizures in three visits was going to make them not want me anymore. The logical part of my brain knows that's ridiculous, but logic and emotions don't always mesh very well. I had sent Kosta, the manager, an email last Tuesday night, and I just hoped that he read it, because it explained everything on my heart. I didn't get to talk to anyone before class because everyone was still teaching, but they all said hello and it was a lot of fun just to watch them. You can tell their different styles of teaching, and plus it just fascinates me that that many lessons can go on in such a small space and no one runs into each other!

In the middle of the group lesson, Kosta walked over and looked at me and said "I just read your letter." He held his hands in the shape of a heart, said "It was beautiful. Thank you, love," and blew me a kiss. That alone told me everything was okay.

But I still wanted to talk to him for a second afterwards. So I got his attention in his little glass office thing, and when he finished what he was doing, he came out and talked to me.  He immediately smiled at me. I said "So you read my email?" And he started talking about how he didn't want me to feel bad and that it was okay. He asked me again when I was going into the hospital and what they'd be doing and wished me the best. But then he said one thing that really stuck out to me.

"God forbid it should happen again, but if it does, it does. You will always be welcome here."

This was my fourth time in that studio, and I can already tell you that this is one of the happiest things in my life. With my disabilities, and the epilepsy, and all the other stuff, it can be very hard for me to feel normal. And sometimes, all I want is to just blend in with everyone else. But it's very clear why the Dance With Me Studios are collectively referred to as the DWM Fam...because they treat everyone who walks through their doors like they're family. And when you're family, you belong. The only other times I remember feeling this sense of safety and peace and belonging as soon as I stepped foot somewhere were in the Reformation classroom and the soccer field with my brothers there. I told Kosta in my email that I feel included and seen and beautiful there, which are all often rare things for me, so it means the world. When you know you're different, even when you know it's a good thing, sometimes it can be so relieving not to feel different for a change.

Sweet Kosta. Don't let this picture fool you. He's actually 6'5". Intimidating at first sight, but a total gentle giant. ;) 

After class, I went home, skipping the party (not that I had the $15 anyway) to end on a high note while I was feeling okay. But I didn't really want to go home, so I went in Spiegel and hung out with my buddy.

A terrible picture, but this is Eldar. He's one of the bartenders there, and he's just a doll. I've gotten in the habit of going by every shift he's on just to give him a hug and say hi. He gives awesome hugs. And he must be special, because he doesn't find it weird at all. :p But seriously, the guys there have told me I'm always welcome to hang out there, even if I don't have money to eat. They treat me like a VIP - it's like they have my usual order posted in the kitchen or something - and they always greet me with hugs, no matter who is on when I stop by. I'm being perfectly honest when I say that there have been days when stopping by there has been the only good thing in my day.

So all of this is to say that this week something has been made abundantly clear to me:

I really belong here. Thanks be to God.

(PS: I was talking to Mike before I left, and this was part of the conversation:
Mike: You have a bad bruise on your arm! (yeah, turns out there is also a large purple bruise on the back side of my right upper arm, which is why I never noticed it.)
Me: (shows him my leg and ankle) I had a nasty fall on Saturday.
Mike: How'd that happen?
Me: Let's just say it involved vodka and a bar stool and not enough balance.
Mike: (laughs) Okay, I'll let you save that story for another time. Because, wow.
Me: There are many sides to me that you wouldn't expect from the surface.
Mike: I bet! I can tell!
:D)

The Perfect Recoup

Work was awful.

People were awful.

One lady bitched me out because she didn't want to buy the toothpaste that was on sale and instead wanted to get a different kind of the same brand that wasn't on sale for the sale price and thought it was outrageous that we wouldn't change the price.

So when Holly gave me way more money than I asked for, the roommate asked me if I wanted to go out with her, and then Holly heard that and said she ordered to go out and buy drinks, I went.

And it was awesome.

Right up until I fell off a bar stool and broke a glass underneath me (but still managed not to cut myself!). But hey, two strangers plus the bouncer (whom the roommate knows) all rushed over to help me up, so that was very sweet. And then the bouncer helped me up the stairs.

Then on the way home, we went to Spiegel, the roommate got a cheeseburger, and I got fries and about eight glasses of water.

She went to bed early and I stayed and thoroughly entertained the bartender and his friend, who was then kind enough to help me up to the apartment because I wasn't so sure I could make it up the stairs to the apartment.

Let your freak flag fly, New York.

Ah, St. Patrick's Day. A universal excuse for drunken debauchery in the middle of the day, no verbal filters, and wearing anything you want anywhere you want. Apply those factors to a sea of 8 million people crammed on an island, and you have today in New York City.

I started work at 4:00 pm. At approximately 4:05 pm, I got my first stumbling drunk girl. The day pretty much got better from there in terms of entertainment for me.

A guy from Dublin told me about all the girls who offered to kiss him.

A girl did a faceplant on the counter while I got her cigarettes.

A guy from Entourage (apparently, I have no idea who he was) and a guy who works for the Bleacher Report came in. Bleacher Report guy Lance called me Boo the whole time and asked if he could take a picture with me. Entourage Alexander joined in.

If any of you watch Entourage, feel free to tell me if you recognize that white guy.

One guy yelled at me asking me if I wanted to live in the Caribbean. "YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO LIVE IN THE CARIBBEAN!" "Right now, I just want you to stop yelling at me." He apologized.

A whole squad worth of drunk firefighters came in. One kept feeding me Doritos.

And that's just what sticks out to me right now.

Ah, New York City, the city that has a whole convention dedicated to people dressing up like Santa Claus and running through the streets half-naked, you sure know how to enjoy life.

I choose to dance.

When I was nine, my mom had to sit me down and ever-so-gently explain to me why it wasn't physically possible for me to be a dancer. Looking back, it's kind of laughable that I ever thought I could be, what with my birth defects and disabilities and everything and knowing all that came in the years after that conversation, but call it the naïveté of a child.

Because I bought a ticket to the Sway meet and greet back in December, I was automatically put on an email list. Most of the events in the emails, I haven't been able to attend because I couldn't afford it, but tonight, every dance studio in the Dance With Me family was hosting a premiere party to celebrate the new season of Dancing with the Stars. It was free. DWM has a studio in Soho. That was just calling my name!

Tonight was the big night. I put on a dress (which anyone who knows me knows is a rare occasion) and headed down. Literally down - it was in the basement of the building.

At first it was a bit awkward because, since I didn't go with anyone, I just sat there and watched people. There were still some lessons going on, so I got to watch some. I was dancing by myself to some of the music they had on, ha! But then, everyone was able to get up and dance for a bit before the show started, so I saw this fella standing there, and feeling brave, walked up and asked him to dance with me. (Get it? :p)

This is Mike! My first ever dance teacher. He's wonderful. I get a free lesson for coming tonight, and I've already decided I want him to be my teacher. After a bit, Mike switched partners with this guy.

Daniel! He had me laughing, mostly when he told me I should stop gripping his hands so hard.

They were the only two I got pictures with, because then the show came on and everyone was much more distracted, but I'm just happy I have a couple to memorialize the experience.

Everyone was even dancing during the commercial breaks, so I got to dance with a guy named Justin, and then Mike again (we just spotted each other and were both free and went 'why not?'), and then totally claimed a guy named Andrey for the next round because he just looked adorable (which thankfully he was fine with, haha!).

Well, in the middle of dancing with Andrey, I had a seizure. Sigh. I think it was just because it was so hot down there PLUS I danced five different times and when I was dancing with Andrey I think I just did one too many spins. Luckily, Andrey caught me so I didn't hit or hurt anything which means I could avoid another hospital trip. Also, thankfully I had mentioned my seizures in conversation so people knew I have a disorder and thus weren't completely terrified. I was so embarrassed and frustrated for interrupting the party and because I really was having such a good time. But anyway, the ambulance was called while I was still out so they came and checked me out and actually went up with me and waited and hailed a cab so no one else had to miss any of the show. That was nice. I knew I didn't need to go to the hospital because I felt like I normally do after a seizure, shaky, nauseous, but mostly just very tired.

Honestly, though, I got home and almost immediately started sobbing. All that was running through my head was that I just wanted to have a normal night for once. I had been looking forward to this night for several weeks and of course my stupid body had to go and ruin it. I felt like an idiot for going tonight and breaking the 3+ month seizure-free streak I had going. But then I talked to Mom and she reminded me of all the seizures I've had sitting down doing nothing. She also told me she was proud of me for going because she never wants to see me stop living my life because of all my health issues.

And she's right. I had SUCH a good time up until the seizure. Everyone there wasn't just talented, they were so kind and welcoming and fun that I didn't feel like a total oddball for being new and alone. And when I was dancing, I was so genuinely happy even though I had no idea what I was doing and not to mention it's physically SO hard. What kind of life would I be living if I didn't do stuff like this that I love? Like Mom said, I could have had a seizure sitting at home (I HAVE had a seizure sitting at home) and you know, I have a disorder that's not going to go away. It's much more controlled than it has been and even if dancing tonight is what brought it on, I only have one life. I deserve to do things that make me happy. Things that I love.

Dance With Me studios are 100% open to anyone, even people with all sorts of disabilities (They're even certified to teach wheelchair dance! How cool is that?!) so I can't see the seizure making them take back their offer of giving me a free lesson. So you know what? I'm going to go to it and I'm going to have fun and I'm going to DANCE.

I'll probably stick with the slower dances next time, though.

(And bring LOTS of water. Lots and lots of extra water. Basements are hot.)

On Being Lonely but Brave

Call me naive, but I didn't expect the transition to New York to be this hard. In fact, I thought I'd be settled now, that I wouldn't miss my mom so much, that I'd feel like I have friends here, the kind of friends that became my family at Campbell.

But today marks 7 months since I landed here in New York City, and I spent most of Saturday night crying, and have spent pretty much every free moment since feeling like I want to.

I didn't expect to still miss my mom this much.

I didn't expect to be SO happy to be here and feel so out of place at the same time.

I didn't expect to know this is where I'm supposed to be and question what I'm doing here at the same time.

Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. You know I'm not one for giving up and throwing in the towel. I'm just lonely. I can go from feeling like normal and like I belong right where I am one second to loneliness and homesickness hitting me like a tidal wave the next.

This is why I was up on the phone so late with Mom Saturday night. I was crying, and I needed someone to process everything in my head and give me some perspective who would mind me calling them at midnight. Sometimes moms really can make everything better, you know?

She reminded me that I was just as excited, if not more thanks to the brain surgeries and all the high school bullying, to get to Campbell from Swansboro as I was to move to New York, and it wasn't until my last two years there that I felt like I had a solid group of friends. She reminded me that I called her crying more days than not my first semester. She reminded me that the bigger a city is, the more crowded and isolated it feels because you have less time with people because the people are busier. She reminded me that I have my church family (I reminded her that it's not that they're not incredible people, I just only get to see them for a couple hours once a week so I don't feel super close to them yet). She reminded me that I'm in a different world now, that this is a stepping stone between college and career, so it's possible that I may not feel totally settled until I have a full-time job that's actually in my field, but that's okay because there are only fourteen months until I graduate and can get that security.

She reminded me I can do anything for fourteen months. Her exact words that followed were, "You survived Swansboro High School for four years, and people were putting you through hell there. You can do this for fourteen months."

And she's right. The timing of all these feelings arising and hitting me so hard has just been weird for me to deal with because I got a letter from my friend Monique, basically the only person from high school other than Matt I have any desire to keep in contact with, at the beginning of last week. We've formed a pen pal friendship of sorts and I love it. Anyway, in that letter, she talked a lot about how brave I am for moving and how she didn't think she could do it and how I make this look so easy and I was just sort of like Whoa now. Hold up. I am not brave. This is terrifying. But while talking to Mom, I mentioned this, and she told me I am totally brave! Because I'm scared but I did this anyway. Because I never back down even when I'm scared, even in situations where I'm hesitant at first. And it reminded me of this quote...

I made the picture thing, but the quote is actually from the book/movie The Princess Diaries. Cheesy movies can be helpful every now and then. :)

So what do you say? Let's keep doing stuff that scares us, even when it's hard. Life is much more fun that way.

Observations from New York

Everyone thinks the place they have to be is the most important place in the world. Thus they must be first into the subway, down the street, and are completely oblivious to people trying to move past them.

Speeding down subway station stairs can cause you to fall down them and end flat on your face, which can subsequently cause little old seemingly-harmless ladies look down at you and say "That's what you get for trying to race past me" and keep moving. (Don't worry, the guy was fine.)

There are lots of smart people at NYU. Lots of them. And plenty of them are condescending.

There are also lots of very tall buildings which make for very aggravating wind tunnels so that you can not escape the hard and fast bitter cold wind in your face.

Professors are slow everywhere, not just Campbell.

Even old men from Albania know what Dumb and Dumber is.

And I really like my apartment. Really. Especially after coming home after a long day.