I've had so many thoughts rattling through my brain recently, some of which I'd like to share with you.

I'm not as knowledgeable as i'd like to be. One of the things I dislike most about myself is my lack of basic world knowledge. I don't know a lot about politics, or about other countries. I know little about the war we are fighting, the affairs of the world, and the cultures of others. However does that truly make my opinion less valuable? I base most of my decisions in life on feelings. Some find that foolish, but I find that honest. I try not to react irrationally or immediately but to take that initial feeling and then put myself in other people's shoes. I have a tendency to put myself in their situations so fully that I end up feeling a lot of what others feel. In fact, I feel like that may be what this world is missing. If more people stopped and just felt what others do... we would be less likely to ignore each other, hurt each other, or be so quick to judge each other. Knowledge is not the only way to debate and solve problems.

 In the past two weeks I have engaged in a couple political discussions with people; both ending with me feeling defeated and stupid. Why am I looked down upon because I don't know that a certain tactic used by our president is socialist?  I even had someone make a jab at me for being an actress who "obviously took her opinions from the Hollywood elite". Not only is this not true, it's offensive and rude. I am a human being. I am not naive nor am I completely informed, however that does not make my opinion any less valuable. 

Love has been on my mind a lot. Not because I am in love, but actually because I am nowhere close to it. 

It's funny how once you begin thinking about something, conversations in your life cater to that particular subject. I have had so many conversations recently about love- good and bad, lasting and short term etc. and they have all ended in once conclusion: I believe in love.   

It's easy to live your life as a jaded, unemotional, 'down with love'  person. Swearing off love is taking the easy way out. In my opinion, it's a cowardly way of living. To live your life in a way that avoids heartache, means you also live a life void of unadulterated bliss. 

I've been in all kinds of love. I have pined away for men who will never know how much I yearned to just be near them. I have been in a relationship where we both loved, but were never honest about our true feelings.  I have loved someone who didn't love me in return. I have felt the platonic love for friends and family. Even though I have yet to find that 'perfect love'  I still feel:

"it is better to have loved and lost then never loved at all". 

I know it is cliche- but it is true. 

It's been a year now since I felt the worst heartache I've ever felt. I blamed myself for allowing myself to love someone who was inevitable going to hurt me. I cursed the above quote for the ridiculous notion that people wanted to feel this extreme pain. It's only now that I realize, a year after it's ended, that what was so painful was not loving him; the pain came from not having the courage to be honest with how much I loved him. I played his games, I pretended to not have the deep feelings I did, and because of that I have been wracked with torment for the past year of 'what ifs'. If I told him how much I loved him- would he have stayed? Would he have left sooner? Would he have agreed? Would I still be with him? Would it have hurt less later?...

If you can love someone with all your heart, be transformed into a hideous mess of human being when they hurt you, and pull yourself together again... congratulations. You are living.

Love again.


I'm a workin' Girl ;)

It's official.... I have a job!! I have accepted the offer and began training this past week at Bourbon Street Bar and Grill located on restuarant row, right next to Times Square.

It's a New Orleans themed eatery that I have found to be extremely pleasant. The people that I am working with are wonderful, and they have all been so generous and helpful. The restuarant is split into 3 sections. The bottom floor is a bar/ lounge, while the top floor serves as the actual restuarant area. There is also a back porch patio on the upper mezzanine (as they call it) as well.

It will be a challenge to work on the bottom floor, seeing how most of the service I will be doing will be cocktailing. I don't know much about alcohol- but am learning quickly; jeez there is a lot to learn!

What really has impressed me are the managers. There are 2 main General managers who are simply delightful. They are understanding, complimentary and truly want you as a server to be the best you can be. I've never waited tables in a place where the managers were so supportive of their staff.  It's a relief.

I'm not saying the place is perfect.... but I am saying for the first time since my first little job at Coldstone Creamery in Cary NC, I left work happy. And considering waiting tables is not even close to what I really want to be doing, that's saying a lot :)

Cheers to what will hopefully be a great experience!

Here's the website if you wanna take a look



"I Feel Pretty oh so pretty..." or do I?

Today I decided to make an effort. 

For no reason at all I curled my hair, spent some time on my make- up, and actually ironed my shirt. As I took a final look in the mirror I liked what I saw. "See! I can be beautiful!"  I thought to myself and smiled. 

As I grabbed the keys to head out the door I heard a little wimper. Tucker (my roomates pitbull) gave me the look. You know the look- the adorable tilted head, ears perked, big eyed look. It melted my heart. "Ok!" I said. "Let's go out." His tail immediately started wagging as I put his leash on; I couldn't help but smile. 

All that effort and all that time, wiped away by a single dog walk. 

I live in Washington Heights (which is located directly above Harlem) on the West Side of Manhattan.  It isn't the safest neighborhood; being predominatly Domincan, home to two gangs, a lot of hoodlum children, and little to no english spoken. I am not racist. Never have been and thought I never would be, but living here is trying my patience.

As I walked out of my apartment on the third floor, down the stairs, and into the lobby I was immediately bombarded by my first intrusion. "Hola Hermoso" (Hello Beautiful) said the gruffy looking man who involuntarily held the door open for me; as he looked me up and down, front and back. I ignored him. YOU HAVE TO! My roomate Lauren and I have learned that you can't win in these situations. If you say thank you, they continue to harrass you like they actually have a chance to get you home. If you ignore them, they reply with some snide remark like "didn't your parents ever teach you to say thank you?" 

As I continued out the door and across the street to the park I was repeatedly hollered at, wistled at, cat called and flat out "eyed down" by every male oustide. (Trust me, there were well over 25 of them) With each whistle or rude suggestion I began to feel more and more unattractive. I wished I hadn't made that extra effort. 

Some people may be confused as to why I don't take it as a compliment and move on with my life. If the men who harrass my roomate and me were genuinely saying "you look lovely today" or "I really hope you have a wonderful day" then I would. However, that's not what they want. It plays out more like the scene from West Side Story where Anita goes to Doc's store to warn Tony about Maria meeting him (minus the touching). It's vulgar, it's rude and it makes me feel like a dirty unnattractive woman.

Shame on men for treating women like this, and shame on women for giving them a reason to treat us like this. I am a God loving woman who works hard and deserves to be respected. I deserve to have the door held open for me without expecting something in return.