The Anaconda Squeeze: the story of us

It was high time for a name change, I think.

First of all, I'm not technically a nanny anymore. Just a glamorous babysitter.

Also, I don't even live on Long Island. I live in Queens, which is a borough of NYC, which means I am a resident of quite possibly the greatest city to live in, ever.

The rest of my life could completely suck, but I met Devin here, and here we fell in love...so to me this will always be the greatest place in the world because everywhere I go in the city, I see the story of us.

We happened fast. We happened by accident.

I don't believe in coincidences, and I like to think we've all got a path laid out before us...but I swear Devin and I just met at the wrong time. Everything is perfect and lovely and so, so solid...but we're stuck with this mission to get through.

And don't get me wrong, we are more than happy to have that be our trial than something else. To have the opportunity to grow spiritually for two whole years before tying ourselves together forever is such a blessing. And, what a way to prove our faithfulness, loyalty and commitment. If we make it through this, we can make it through absolutely anything.

Regardless, I know it's right and real. I always felt like an Arizona boy just wasn't for me. And look, my very first baby steps outside the comfort of home and I found someone so completely like me and opposite of me and compatible with me.

It only took us about twenty-four hours to know there was something special between us.

His friends told him about me, but thanks to some jealous girls in the nanny circle I had no idea who he was when he walked through to door at Wednesday night volleyball at the church.

He struck me as interesting, unique and so, so handsome. Well-dressed, athletic...we both secretly spent the whole night stealing glimpses of each other.

He knew I loved The Office almost as much as he did. He lured me in with an Office quote on Facebook. Lucky for me, still in the middle of my trying-new-things attitude, I commented on his status.

And that, folks, is how it all began.

There was a YSA dance in Brooklyn that Friday. I met up with him and some friends in the city and we all went together. By the end of the night (which we spent dancing and talking) we were sharing our first of countless burgers at Jackson Hole, and chattng excitedly about our plans to spend the day in the city together on Saturday.

That morning, for the first time ever (or since...) he was on time. We met in Times Square and set off together on our first Big Adventure. We explored everywhere, saw everything...by that evening we were holding hands in Holiday Lanes on the 9th floor of Macy's, and by the time we made it to the nutcracker ornament section he couldn't wait another second, and he grabbed my face and kissed me good. Right there in the middle of Macy's, he suddenly wasn't just holding my hand. He was holding my heart.

We both knew it was over. Sure, we still didn't know every secret. We didn't fully comprehend each others' pasts. We hadn't experienced very much together. But chemistry is undeniable. And falling in love is so, so easy.

Sunday we held hands secretly at church. That night we drove to his house in Queens and watched The Walking Dead together. Sitting on the couch, we talked hypothetically about dating and then we really talked about it, and then we decided to stop talking and do something. December 2, 2012 is our anniversary (:

The nine months since that night haven't been perfect. They haven't been easy. They haven't been painless, tearless or care-free. But I love that boy more than anything because he makes me laugh and smile through all the hard stuff. I feel safe. I feel loved and wanted. I feel validated, and I feel like my opinion matters. That I can make a difference in someone else's life for the better. That I have someone to help me when I fall short. Somebody who gets how I tick, knows how I can be, and chooses to love me anyway.

Its a miracle and a blessing, and I wouldn't have the next two years any other way because what we have is stronger than distance or loneliness or anything that might seem to want to tear us apart.

I love you, Devin. Thanks for all the love, all the possibility, and thanks for all those perfect Anaconda Squeezes.

Trends suck. Stop wearing them.

My favorite method of getting around is by far to walk. New Yorkers are the fastest walkers in the world (scientifically proven) and I may not be a native, but it has absolutely caught on--so I have covered many, many miles of this city over the months I've lived here.

One thing that I love to do while I walk up and down avenues is people watch. I've been an awkward starer my whole life, and living here hasn't changed that. (Even though I did get a comment once on a subway in Brooklyn...but for the record, those women were being insanely obnoxious. Everyone was staring, I just happened to be the only white person there. Racism and stuff...)

Anyway, because I live in one of the fashion capitals of the world, my people watching has become trend-watching and where I used to try to guess where a person came from when I saw them, I now oftentimes wonder what possessed them to wear such an awkward outfit instead. For a place bursting at the seams with celebrities, designers, and fashion empires, there is precious little fashion sense worth commenting on.

I've seen one too many fashion mistakes today, so I'm hoping to shed a little light on why most people have so much trouble choosing what to wear in the morning. It's mainly women that apply to what I'm about to say, because men's fashion is timeless and most men don't have any to begin with-- but here it is: trends have the potential to destroy your wardrobe.

Trends are the changes the fashion industry makes to keep itself from becoming common. Without trends, we'd all still be wearing sheets for clothes. But people--young people especially--follow trends like a fat kid chasing a candy bar. And for some reason, the west coast is especially prone to it. This is for you, hometown!

As a teenager, I was one of those trend-followers. Every season I felt like my whole closet was useless and I would end up spending a fortune on cheap copycat clothes at Charlotte Rousse and the like. It got to be so stressful and I was never happy with my look because it was always about to be old news. It wasn't until my senior year that finally understood my favorite stylists in the world, Stacy and Clinton of TLC's What Not To Wear, when they would repeat over and over again to their clients, "You will always look stylish in what works for your body" and "These pieces are timeless." And, I finally have a closet that follows those rules.

I can't begin to tell you how hard I fought the idea of a mature wardrobe. I stubbornly bought leggings, baggy tank tops and gladiator sandals all through my school years in an effort to express how comfortable and casual I wanted to be. And every day, I went through outfit after outfit trying to decide how good I felt about myself that day. I thought I wanted to reflect my attitude, but what I really wanted more than anything was to stand out. I felt average-looking in other areas and so when the idea finally came to me to stand out in fashion, I started to make some changes.

It all started with thrift stores. Those places are gold mines, and I'll explain why. Besides the fuzzy old lady sweaters and odd-smelling suit jackets, thrift stores tend to carry a wealth of gently-used more tailored items. And, chances are if you look hard enough, you'll find something that fits you. It's all the more special because it's one-of-a-kind. That's how I started--fitted pants, classy cardigans, shell tops in interesting colors, tailored dresses. All those things are essential to great-looking ensembles.

But, although I bought them and liked them, I wasn't brave enough to really experiment with my pieces until I moved to New York City. It's much, much easier to desire to dress like a fashionable business woman when you're surrounded by them! For those of you that can't move here tomorrow, I guess you'll just have to be brave and trust me.

Girls, the key is and always will be...FIT. If it fits you well, accentuates your good parts and minimizes your bad, you'll look good no matter what. Worry about color and print later. Fit is the absolute key to an outfit that, when people see you, they think, "Wow, I love her outfit." You can have the cutest outfit in the world, straight off the mannequin at Anthropologie, but unless you have that mannequin's body no one will notice how great you look in it because you won't really look that great. Forget what you see in magazines and catalogs. You can't be those girls. Sure, take inspiration from them, but if it your choices come down to cigarette or relaxed fit and you actually have calves, be realistic!

Now I know just what works for me, and shopping is easy. I feel ok spending more on something I know is fantastic. My closet is full of tailored pants in interesting prints, beautiful flats (something I used to hate), oxfords, statement jewelry, fitted dresses and leather bags. Things that, no matter what trend I try on next, will always make me feel good and look better.

A hair history

So, as most of the humans in my life know, I can never stick with a hairstyle. It's not that I'm not happy with my hair, or I that I am flighty in my decision-making skills. It really comes down to the fact that there are just too many options when it comes to hairstyles.

I really respect the girls that have hair down to their behinds and have kept it long and lucious and beautiful their whole lives, I really do, but for me...I prefer something trendy, eye-catching and different. I love stepping out of the shower in the morning already excited about how I'm going to fix my hair. I love surprising myself with discovering new hairstyles and accessories that didn't work on my hair the month before. There's always a new adventure with each new color and cut!

(And, a quick note to all the girls who got super short pixies like I did and have since tried to grow it out like I have been...with this attitude and a little bit of box dye, you'll make it! Don't worry! )

So, to commemorate my latest almost-black, totally mod, self-cut style, lets take a quick look back at the history of the hairstyles of Emma:

Back to the very beginning--my first short cut.

And then I grew it out. 
This was also nearing the end of my junior high punk phase.

And then I gave myself bangs. 
I miss that shirt, I used to wear it all the time. 
Gotta love Charlotte 
Rousse...

This is the longest my hair has ever been, in my whole life. I was dying it constantly to try and entertain myself.

Aaaaand I hated it so 
I chopped it all off again.

It was in this phase that I discovered my infamous White Girl Afro. I really miss that thing!!

I also went through several different shades of brown at this point, with some purple streaks just for fun.

And then, it was gone. I managed to chop it all off just before the pixie became insanely popular.

No pixie is complete without the occasional fauxhawk!

I went through several more color changes while I grew my hair out long enough for...

PLATINUM. 
The single most stupidest, funnest, most damaging thing I ever did to my hair. 

I LOVED my platinum pixie. 
But, my hair was literally falling apart and took an insane amount of work to keep from making me look homeless. I did change my glasses at this point to suit a lighter hair color.

And then I moved to NYC to be a rock star, and my hair became long and unmanageable.

So the reign of the bleach ended and so ensued many, many color changed on my way back to dark. 
There was a weird strawberry blonde...

And purple...

And I got a haircut and it turned a little pink...

And then Little 
Mermaid red...

It was here that i finally went brown and it seriously started growing. The last of the bleach has been cut away, the length is no longer pixie-worthy, and the color is realistic...

Good old brown, with bangs.

Basically, I'm the first person you should turn to if you're not sure which color hair dye to go with, need courage to chop off your locks, or are experiencing growing pains. I'm here for ya, babe. And trust me--almost any style will work, you just need the bravery to rock it!

Some pictures to put your eyes on

G'day, all. I realize that this may be the most boring, colorless blog you've ever laid eyes on, so here's some pictures of the place I live to liven things up a bit.

Gorgeous, eh? Took those all with my phone, via instagram. For a long time I've wanted a really great camera, but wait...my phone's already got that. Modern technology is just peachy.

Slacking and job hunting

Well, two weeks later and still searching for a new job. In this city, you absolutely have to have connections or you just won't make it. Seriously. There's too much competition for the jobs worth having, so without a referral you haven't got a shot. Thank the stars I've made a few friends over here. Don't worry folks, I'll figure it out. Meanwhile I just get to hang out with a couple of crazy 3-year-olds 2 days a week.

I did have quite a lot of fun with my sister. She just left yesterday after 8 days sharing a bed with me (gotta say, glad to have that back haha!) We went to all the usual tourist attractions, plus ended up doing some things I never would have done on my own.

I definitely need to go spend some more time at the Met because the Sunday afternoon we spent there wasn't nearly enough! My favorite gallery there is absolutely the big room near the entrance with all the Roman marble statues. I don't know why, but I am totally enraptured by them. They are so beautiful. If you look at them close enough for long enough, it seems almost as if they are alive. It's eerie and I love it. I also fell in love with the 19th-20th century galleries. I am a huge fan of realism. Most modern art just doesn't impress me...that's not to say that I only like realistic (meaning you could see the scene or subject in real life) art, because anyone that knows me knows that some weird stuff pops out of my head sometimes, but if something is weird, I would still love to be able to imagine it as a living breathing moving thing. Picasso's cubism and the meaning art critics manage to pull from it is great, but I guess I just don't have the depth of understanding for it.

But enough about art! On to the theatrics. Colette wanted to go to a Broadway production, but because no one could afford $100 tickets, we took a gamble and tried the TKTS booth at the South Street Seaport. They have 50% off tickets for tons of Broadway and off-Broadway shows, and it changes daily. Unfortunately, they had absolutely no good deals for any show we wanted to see. Fortunately, we all were open to something new so we got tickets to the 360° loosely-plotted show Fuerza Bruta. Which was SO COOL!!!!! The story was definitely open to a LOT of interpretation, but from what I gathered from the various scenes, it's basically the metaphorical or what have you saga of the fall and rise of a man. Its all set to great house music, ends with an indoor rain shower, and is extremely fascinating. I think the thing that made it work was the actors' enthusiasm. It was impossible not to catch the energy! Plus the clear swimming pool full of beautiful dancers lowered to just above your head was pretty unique.

We also went to Prospect Park in Brookln (which, by the way, is even more beautiful I think than Central Park) and watched the free concert by the New York Philharmonic. The best orchestra in the country playing in the most beautiful park in the boroughs? My sister is genius.

We accidentally walked through a huge Orthodox Jewish community on our way to the park, which Colette thought was hilarious. I did too--sometimes I feel like I'm in a different country in some of the neighborhoods here. I totally respect Jewish culture, but is it seriously frowned upon to smile at strangers? I definitely would not want to get into an accident in that neightborhood...I swear they would just keep walking. But, to be fair, Jewish women are absolutely beautiful. If that helps at all.

It was great having Colette here for a lot of reasons besides getting a bit of a vacation myself. She turned me on to some things I hadn't realized, about mine and Devin's relationship and about some different options for me. She watched Devin and I fight, which I felt terrible about, but she was able to pinpoint the root of some of the issues we'd been having and have since worked out. She also turned me on to some different directions
I could go career-wise. 

But that is for another post! This one is already turning into a diary entry. Thanks again to all those who take the time to read this nonsense!

Birthday girl

Yay for birthday weekends! Thursday was my last day as an 18-year-old and I didn't have work and Devin did...so I started the day with donuts (duh) and ended up at the Museum of Arts and Design in Columbus Circle. The main reason I went there was because the museum offers free admission for 18 and under and I wanted to commemorate the fact that that wouldn't be an option for me in 24 hours! I just went by myself in the afternoon, but that might be my favorite way to tour museums. I love reading all the little info plaques and watching the movies and just going at my own pace. I feel like I miss half the museum when I'm with someone who rushes through in an attempt to see the whole thing. Which is yet ANOTHER reason I feel so lucky to live in the city. One time is just not enough!

Anyway, I had to work on Friday, my birthday day, but Devin picked me up on 77th and Lexington and laid out a wonderful plan in which I got to pick out a brand new outfit, plus shoes. What an adorable boy he is...he even let me stop at the puppy shop by the train station because he knows it's my favorite. Someday when we have a cute little apartment and a cute little life, we will get a cute little puppy to go with it.

We went to Soho, one of the places we spent the most time at when we first started dating (we even saw our first movie together at a perfect little Indie theater on Houston called Sunshine Cinema) and I found some mint green lightweight skinnies at the Pacsun pop-up store. Then we went to Uniqlo, which I originally wasn't excited about at all, but turned out to be great because--I don't know why I didn't realize this earlier--all their clothes fit my Asian-wannabe body perfectly since they are designed for and by Asians. Go figure. I got a salmon and cream pinstripe oxford shirt to be twins with Devin since he has one just like it, and a great black maxi dress. I've been looking for a decent maxi dress that didn't require hemming for FOREVER so I just couldn't pass this little number up! $12.90, can you believe it?! After Uniqlo we went to Shoegasm, where I almost exclusively shop for shoes for three good reasons: their service and decor is stellar,  the European brands are unique and high-quality, and the prices are too good to pass up. How I love options like these! Gone are the days of K-Mart and Famous Footwear. I think I've found my favorite shoe brand, called Chelsea Crew. They're European, generally made of real leather and incredibly stylish. I already have one pair of Chelsea Crew shoes and bought two more for my birthday presents...I'm obsessed!

When we got back to Devin's that night, his sweet mom and sister had gifts and a cake waiting. What gems! Its hard to miss home too much when I'm so well taken care of here.

The second part of my birthday weekend was bike riding on Saturday. The day started off disastrously and it took a very long time to figure out how to use the new CitiBikes installed in docks all over the city. I think we called Customer Service about 5 times trying to figure the dumb things out, but once we got going it was a blast! We rode a loop through Central Park, walked down 6th Ave through the huge annual street fair happening that day, and than went all the way down Broadway to Houston and back up to Union Square to see World War Z at our favorite Regal theater there. We stopped to eat at Subway along the way, which probably wasn't the best idea because I was so hungry from all the activity that I downed an entire footlong...thank goodness for those bikes. All in all, A+ to my wonderful, sweet, thoughtful, patient, adorable boyfriend and one million kajillion thanks for a great birthday away from home!

My family also sent me gifts. For some reason, getting things by mail is so much funner than in person. I don't think I'll ever stop sending postcards to my family just because I get excited thinking about receiving one. Devin and I also send postcards back and forth, which might be my favorite thing in the whole world.

Now, I'm a newly-19-year-old very much in need of sleep for tomorrow, my last day to get ready for my sister coming on Tuesday!! I'm excited beyond words.

P.S. you'll have to subscribe to my instagram, bigcitylittlegirl, if you want to see pictures of any of this stuff. I'll probably always be too lazy to post any here!

Policemen play unfairly

Today, while I was waiting for Devin at Bryant Park like I do almost every day, I saw a taxi pull over another taxi. My first thought was, "Who does that taxi driver think he is?" And then, "Since when do taxi drivers obey other taxi drivers?" And then, "Why does that taxi have a siren and flashing lights?" It wasn't until two policemen climbed out of the noisy taxi that I realized the deviousness of the NYPD. How do these poor taxi drivers have the slightest chance of making any money when they're always watching their backs for other taxis...who are actually POLICE CARS.


If the NYPD was to really play fair, they would disguise themselves as civilians and arrest people for jaywalking. Because people jaywalking is about as common as taxis committing traffic violations in Manhattan. Just food for thought.

In other news, I'm becoming a Ping Pong Playa master. (If you haven't yet, check out the movie Ping Pong Playa on Netflix. It's a gem.) Currently watching Martin and Devin throw down some moves on the table at the weekly Plainview YSA volleyball night. Someday, maybe, I'll be good enough to give them a good game. It will be at the top of my list to practice my table tennis while Devin is on his mission (I'm secretly hoping he will lose all his skills and I will own him...)

Anyway. I wore a maxi dress and sandals today because my original plan of skinny jeans, button-down and wedges was foiled when my skinny jeans started to meld to my skin from the sweat and humidity as soon as I put them on. It just wasn't gonna happen. But maybe sandals weren't such a good idea either...I'm staring down at my feet in horror of how filthy they are. Because here's the thing about New York: it's beautiful, but it's filthy. All the shiny parts are at the tops of the buildings and not where you have to put your feet. I completely understand why closed-toe flats are so popular here and I gotta say, I've been converted!

One last thought before I sign off...what is it with old gentlemen in the park feeling like I am a great person to start a conversation with? What the heck is it about me that makes me so approachable? I look literally exactly like every other loner girl in the park--headphones, scowl, the whole shebang. And yet, almost every time I'm waiting for Devin to get off work at Bryant I have the pleasure of being harassed with innocent I'm-lonely-and-you-look-nice questions by some old guy who just happens to sit at the little table next to the one I have already occupied. This means pausing my movie or looking up from my book and taking out my headphones to even hear the question. Sometimes I ignore them, but the persistent ones are hard to avoid. And clean tables next to outlets at this midtown park are hard to come by so it's not like I can just abandon my spot for another. Today I spent twenty minutes with my movie going pause-play-pause-play as some Indian guy complained about the weather, quizzed me on the state capitol, gave me some mundane college advice and lamented about the Arizona heat. It's so annoying, and I feel as though I've already done absolutely everything I can do to avoid these encounters, but they continue to happen. Maybe plastic surgery?

Confessions of a Blogging Failure

Well, today I'm sick with a cold. And on a sick day like this one, the best way to handle the boredom is to catch up on things you always find excuses not to get done. This blog just happens to be one of those things...

I feel like too much has happened to even try to put down in a post. That first silly one way back in October was yet another attempt by my ever-far-reaching self to be deep and interesting. Ha! I always forget that to most of the people I know live several thousand miles away in Arizona and, I hope, even my NYC-average life may just be interesting to them. So I suppose the best way to try and keep up with this thing, and begin to catch up on recording my life here, is just to start.

Right now I'm sitting at the laundromat waiting for my clothes to dry. It's right across the street from my house, thank goodness, because I have been really lazy about getting it done and now have about three loads to look forward to putting away. I am literally on my last pair of underwear, and that's basically my only motivation for even making it over here today. Laziness at its finest! You never realize how spectacular having your own washer and dryer is until you're stuck paying to use someone else's every week. Just another hidden cost of striking out on your own and abandoning the sheltered existence of your family home. ;)

In other news, it's 90 degrees today. I'm not sure when it became acceptable for me to complain about 90 degrees (I grew up in the land of 1,000 suns, for goodness' sakes) but boy does it feel HOT. I guess not having air conditioning in a top-floor apartment does add to the feeling. But still...I'm starting to sound like a New Yorker.

And my last tidbit for the moment, because I just heard to beep indicating my clothes are done, I am looking for a regular job in the city! Devin's friend (and now mine too) works at the Met and so, hopefully, I will have one soon! If my resume does me justice, that is (: