Days 10, 12, 13, & 14: NY vs. LA

When Maya said, "NY takes the human out of you," my eyes almost popped out of my head. Not only was it a brilliant statement to blog about, but it defined how I feel--less human.  As a friend so brilliantly reminded me the other night while criticizing my decision to flee the city, life is hard and reality can be life-shattering (blah, blah, blah). But maybe, by living in New York, one becomes more human without realizing it? Being one of the most real places on earth and one of the most difficult places to succeed, perhaps, living here makes an individual more human or in other words, more in tune with reality. Conceivably, it could be the cities that do not batter the soul day-to-day, that make one less human? How many times have you heard someone that is not from New York tell you about the mean people they encountered in New York or how many times have you visited another state and wondered why people are so much more friendly? Perhaps, non-New Yorkers are more friendly, because they are out of touch with what life is really like?  New York in all of greatness can be seriously nasty and one must get nasty just to get by. It is in those "get nasty" moments that I question who I am becoming; however, whether it be more human or less human I do not know. 

On the flipside, I cannot defend LA having grown up in celebrity-ville. As Hollywood bound transplants infest the nearly every industry, it is next to impossible to interact with a friendly or competent individual. And, in the same way that NY forces you to evolve, LA does too. When I returned to LA in 2003 post college with the freshman 30 in tow, the city was far from kind. I was considered HOT! in Boston--the boys found me interesting and I found myself irresistible. Nevertheless, upon my first attempt to enjoy the city, it became readily apparent to me that my once heart-shaped face, now formed a perfect oval, and that my booty and belly were more spherical than concave. While age and maturity (OK, dining hall desserts and alcohol too) had much to do with the changes my body underwent, being at the Sunset Standard for one evening let me know that these changes needed to be managed ASAP. So, being my control freak self, I got to it and did what most Angelinos do--I hired a trainer, bought the South Beach Diet, deemed carbs evil.... I am sure you can tell where this is going, so there is no need to continue on with the story. The point is I could never figure out how to be myself in LA even after I morphed my body, but as the pressure to be perfect thickens the city's hyper polluted air,  I believe that most people struggle to be themselves too.  

So, who knows if I am making the right decision by seeking therapy in LA. For all I know, moving in with my relatives in Ohio may have been a better choice for me? What I am sure of is that my heart has always longed for success in New York City and that I must step away for a short while in order to attain it, so that is what I am going to do. 

xx

R

Day 9: Contemplating the Highline

Not privy to blog etiquette, I haven't quite figured out if I am supposed to blog everyday or if the occasional blog is suffice.  So, in an effort to be a better blogger, I am going to make a conscious effort to spit some self-reflection as often as I can.  

That being said, last night, I explored the new Highline downtown (www.thehighline.org).  Walking along an elevated park, under hotels and alongside abandoned warehouses and glimpses of the New Jersey skyline, I had a moment of remorse about leaving this damned city. Expressing my need to "heal" and listing my reasons for my need to temporarily relocate to my friends sounded ridiculous while standing on the once abandoned railroad tracks. As we strolled past lovers sharing boxed lunches, tourists snapping memories, and loners dazing on wooden recliners, I thought, "Maybe, I can heal here."  At the western outskirts of the city, almost an atmosphere away from the traffic and the noise, I could escape to contemplate for hours at a time--escape to blog, and to connect with the other lost or jobless New Yorkers that long for clarity.  But alas, as there are so many of the confused in the city at this time, I am not sure joining the lot of them will lead to productivity. 

Regardless, my ticket is booked for Tuesday, June 30th and there is no turning back.  At least it's a one way ticket, so I can return at anytime if ever.  My fear is that I will grow comfortable in LA living sans rent or bills. Life is simply easier under your parents' roof, especially if you have parents that want nothing more than to see your pretty face when they wake every morning.  I need to strategize, because existing in a comatose state will be counterproductive and a waste of time. So, prior to d-day, I am going craft a game plan, which of course,  I will then blog about for feedback.  I've got one shot to make every second of my year of rebirth count (see Day 3: Music & Escapism), and will have exactly 23 days to make it happen once I land in the City of Angeles. 

Wish me luck! 

xx

R

Day 6: California Here I Come!

Recently, a friend  told me that New York is not a place to heal.  "Come home to LA. Rest, hike, workout, sort yourself," he said.  Upon processing his advice and the added advice of my mother,  I think he's right.  New York doesn't treat the confused very well. In fact, it eats up the confused and tosses them on the sidewalk to fester with the rest of the city's trash. This city stinks enough in the summer, so lord knows I do not want to become it's new scent. 

Conclusion:  I am coming home. (Of course, not for too long as LA can make me a little soft if I stay too long.)

Hopefully, moving west where life is sooooo muchhhhhh slowerrrrr will enable my brain to stop working on drone mode and start thinking for itself again.  I used to do so many things before being handcuffed to a desk when I moved here three years ago.  You'd think that my arms would look better with all of the typing, but it's quite the opposite--my bicep muscles have atrophied into masses of skin fat and bone. But really, who wants to work out after a 12 to 16 hour day? Who wants to do anything? Do you know that we haven't seen sun in New York for about two years? OK, maybe that's an exaggeration, but if we have seen sun it's only for one bright second out  of every million. 

I have become lax about everything, but my job and I have nothing to show for all of my commitment. So now, I am committing myself to LA and am going to turn my parents house into a rehab center. I am going to heal, and think, and read, and workout and figure out what the hell I want to do next. I am also going to bring the boys, so they can enjoy grass sans New York's traffic, rainy days and stormy nights.  

If you think about it, California has the best rehab centers and I get to check myself in for free with my dogs in tow. One must take advantage of a blessing when it hits them in the face, so that's what I'm doing. 

Clarity awaits me 3,000 miles away.  California here I come! 

xx

R  

Day 3- Music & Escapism

Today was a better day. I didn't feel sorry for myself once. In fact, I felt relaxed and at ease despite the fact that I have been playing Glen Hansard's Falling Slowly on repeat all day (if you haven't heard it, you must listen to asap).  If Mike was home he would kill me, because as far as he is concerned music isn't supposed to depress you.  Unfortunately, my favorite music, the music I play on repeat for days on end, is music Mike would deem depressing.  It's music that encapsulates me in a womb like bubble and turns me into a recluse. Nothing seems so bad when I am in the bubble.  

While I know its a morose thought, sometimes I wonder if life would be easier sans communication. Words and human interaction can be so painful that who can blame me for wanting to hide behind my apartment door? Being a New Yorker, having to take the subway or to fight my way across town or up corporate ladders, I have been subject and witness to many hostile interactions, many of which I have been unable to forget. These interactions over the last three years have changed me--I am less friendly, more suspicious, grow aggravated quickly, and am even a little racist.  All things that I am embarrassed to admit. I swore I wouldn't let New York get the best of me when I moved here, but in order to stay, to be accepted, to fit in and to survive, I subconsciously evolved.  In a city where Darwin's philosophy plays out in real time twenty-four hours a day, I had to.  

Many people have told me that your third year in the city is the hardest--it's when people decide whether they are here to stay or to go. Being broke, I am not sure I can stay, but even beyond finances, I am not sure I want to stay. I am jaded and heartbroken. When the first half of your life's dream is all about moving to New York and finding salvation doesn't work out as planned, what is one supposed to do? New York was Part I and now, I have re-work Part I and start all over again.  

While I was in India in December, I realized that this coming birthday marks my year of rebirth as I am in my 28th year, 2+ 8 =10 and 1+ 0 = 1.  I will be 1 yrs. old again on July 23, 2009, and won’t be 1 again until I am 37 (3 + 7 = 10 and 1 + 0 = 1). So, this coming year maybe my chance (well, in my head at least) to start over.  I know all of this sounds like crazy speak, but it’s the OCD numerology freak in me that is making sense of all of this even if it isn't proper numerology.  Regardless, right now, I need something to look forward to and something to stop me from being the ultimate recluse, so if dreaming up a second chance helps than that's what I am going to focus on.  

Shout out to Maya and Brian (world's greatest couple ever) for hooking us up with the sickest Yankee tickets ever!! Go garlic fries and go Yankees!!! 

xx

R 

 

  

Day 3- Early Morning Rant

So, my blog has caused some alarm amongst my family and friends. I AM OK!!!!  This blog isn't a cry for help. It is simply a form of self expression and a forum for people to reflect on the efforts they are making to save themselves.   

Tonight I was asked why my blog was so "sad." Well, the reality of the situation is that I am sad. Who wouldn't be the slightest bit sad in my situation?  To be jobless in our current economy is not a surprise, but it is far from pleasant. Who would have ever thought a time would come when being unemployed would be socially acceptable?  My mom and dad both said, "Reina, there is nothing to be embarrassed about. Harvard MBAs don't have jobs." 

I thought I saw an end was in sight, but now, I am not so sure. Regardless, I remain hopeful and a tad bit sad.  

Until tomorrow.   

xx

R

Day 2- Negative Thoughts Overwhelm Me

The opportunity to self-reflect is never something I get excited about.  Thank god for my puppies, because without them at a time like this, I think I would die from loneliness.  I should be rejoicing in my new found freedom, but instead, find myself dwelling on the negatives that burden my current situation.   

So, since I struggle with meditation and desperately need to quiet my mind I am going laundry list the crap that is plaguing my head in an effort to find peace today: 

1) Why did I chose to live in a city in which everyone that I know is hopelessly broke and w/o savings even though we all make good money?  

2) How did I manage to get duped by yet another shitty fashion house? Why didn't I do more research? I seem to be the only one in the entire industry that didn't know what was really going on--it's infuriating! 

3) Why when I lived in LA was I able to work out on a regular basis and eat well and bounce btw a size 4 and a size 6, but can't now? 

4) Why does friend drama find me or better yet, is it me creating the friend drama?  

5) Why do I feel sad being home, when I would feel more sad being trapped in that office?  

6) Why can't I allow myself even one day of absolute bliss for taking a leap of faith and quitting?  

7) Why didn't I listen to my parents and pursue a more lucrative career path?  

8) Why am I obsessing about marriage when I could live without it?  

9) Will I have ever have answers to the questions listed above? 

10) Will I ever be at peace or satisfied with the life I have created for myself?  

11) Why isn't PRIDE on the list of deadly sins? 

xx

R

Tuesday, June 16th - Let Freedom Ring

Today marks my first day of freedom--the end of my term as an indentured servant in a faux luxury fashion house. Perhaps now, I can begin pursuing my real dreams...

In an effort not to continue to be yet another tortured fashion girl in New York city, I have committed to taking a full month off to figure out why I chose this industry and whether or not I still want to be a part of it. So, in the history of all of the diaries and journals I have ever started and stopped, I have decided to blog myself back to sanity as when I write things down, things always seem to make more sense. 

I titled my blog "Save Yourself" after a song my brother just put out called "Save Ourselves" (www.ameish.com).  Every time I hear it, it serves as a reminder that I am responsible for my own fate and that only I can change it.  Now, I must figure out how.

I welcome you to join me on my journey of self-evaluation through endless amounts of lonely contemplation.  Feel free to share your own life epiphanies as well.  

Until tomorrow.  

xx