Skip to content

I just have a lot of feelings…

Nostalgia is incredible. I would venture that beyond love it is the strongest emotion. Basically, it is one of the most feelingy feelings I have. I trend towards sentimental, it’s party of my senility, so I recently I got to reminiscing about some notable past moments. Only I can make a day of mulling over nostalgia, however I went with it. Most often I think of these instances as I drift to sleep, performing my own brand agnostic equivalent to prayer so that I may revisit them in my dreams.

This strategy of time travel rarely works and when it does I am so caught off guard I can’t properly enjoy it, wasting most of the dream trying to decipher its reality.  This is getting a little too mushy, moving on. Whenever possible, these are the moments I most savor.

photo (33)

Bowls of snow with warm maple syrup. Or more accurately forcing my beloved Beauty Senior to enjoy this wonderful delight.

IMG_3580

Getting penny candy at nearby Old fashioned candy stores. Satellite wafers, weighing essentially nothing offering the greatest deal of eternity, until they figured this out stopped charging by weight. Sad day for all of us.

IMG_0168

Digging clams in sun or rain, or any weather condition for that matter. With my Mom. This mostly consisted of gossiping and standing in the water.

IMG_0133

Our annual Christmas Tree cutting excursion. Nothing is better than picking a perfect tree with cider, carols, and family.

There are many more, but these are the simplest ones that I revisit most often. I wish all of you the best of luck reminiscing, and if you find yourself face to face with favored moments in your dreams try to relax and enjoy them all over again. What are your favorite moments?

My so called budget life.

The other day I looked at my bank account and I was assaulted with the fact that I have a balance of $46.15. Don’t worry I don’t have to move into a cardboard box yet, I have a few more months of craftily shifting funds from one account to another before I need to dejectedly wave my white flag, however I decided it was time to create a budget. In the event you are as confused by this concept as I am, a budget is possible when one comprehends the amount of money one produces and then determines a reasonable amount of said income to dedicate to predetermined categories.

The ideal would be to allocate a percentage of income to necessities such as bills, housing, utilities, and sustenance with a surplus to put into another nebulous concept called a savings account.  Since I digest tangible goals more readily than whimsical theory, I have broken this down into some general guidelines for myself. Here is what to do, or more accurately what not to do.

  1. It is time to accept the fact that you absolutely must take public transit everywhere you go. I don’t care that you are sweating profusely on half of Manhattan and it take 3-17 times longer than it should reasonably take to get anywhere, get on the damn bus and don’t get off until you aren’t on the brink of eviction.

    *Note this is an inaccurate depiction of NYC public transit.

    *Note this is an inaccurate depiction of NYC public transit.

  2. Stop acting like a college frat boy. You know how to cook, steam some vegetables… the Seamless guys are frightened. Your credit card almost got denied today because you ordered something that was NOT Seamless. You have a problem.
  3. In relation to point 2. It is actually not fiscally responsible to buy new clothes vs. washing the ones you already have.  Additionally if you steam more vegetables and order less seamless you might fit into more than 3% of your wardrobe. This is a win-win.
  4. Maybe consider cutting back on Happy Hour. Cheers is a great show, but bartenders should stop knowing your name. It’s sad.  Unless you are the bartender from The Girl and the Goat in Chicago. If you are, my name is Marissa and please call me immediately.
  5. I think this is a good start; let’s not go bonkers here.

I hope these financial tips help you as much as I hope they help me. Suze Orman would be proud.

My so-called social life

I would say I am somewhat social media “obsessed”.  I am not about to name my unborn child Hashtag or some futuristic equivalent, however as both a marketer and as a social person I find the idea of online reputation and presence fascinating.  I am mostly intrigued by the great divide amongst those with whom I interact from those that despise the notion that big brother is watching, stalking, and tailoring your online experience based on the information to those that love it.

I happen to love it, both as a digital marketer and a consumer. I am happy to provide anybody in the world all of the information they need, sans social security # and passport, so that I may have a more relevant life experience, it just happens to be easier digitally. I also am happy to present the world with what I would consider to be a better version of myself.

 I’ll be honest- I haven’t been the best offline version of myself for some time now. There is always a lot of good in my life; it just happens that in the recent past, I have been tossed some euphemistic life challenges. I find that social media helps me to focus on the positive and although I condone living life versus tweeting it, I like having the control over what I choose to share. I kind of love the fact that although yesterday I watched several hours of Sex and The City this weekend, and putzed around in sweatpants longer than most might consider healthy, I can choose to focus on the fact that I biked through Central Park, as encapsulated by my super professional Instagram. Its also a good reminder not that everything online is filtered. Some might find it intrusive or feel “Facebook envy”, I simply enjoy it for what it is and wait to see what’s next! As long as baby animal photos and videos continue to be shared I am good to go.  

 

So here it is- this is the ONLY thing I did this weekend. I was a good girl and didn’t go out other than this bike ride.  😉

 Image

#mysummerstory part 2.

I am sure the suspense is at an all-time high so let’s jump right back to life in the fast lane with Marissa’s summer re-cap. I had several trips to the cape this summer and I will tell you I have so many favorite things to do there it’s hard to even think about them.  Sesuit Harbor Café has been a favored spot for years. There are many things that make it awesome namely, the view, the shack like structure, and the delicious Reubens. We go every year for my Dad’s birthday and it is incredible. I was also given the gift of several fantastic beach days. Marconi Island and Nauset beach never disappoint. The water is… refreshing, but there is nothing like losing feeling in your limbs while boogie boarding to bring you back to your youth. And then to spiral you back into adulthood, The Beachcomber is an incredibly special beach bar worth the nearly hour-long journey from where I reside. As a general rule, any place that has a raw bar, beach views, and a reggae night, in addition to Buck Hunter is an establishment I will enjoy.

Cape Cod Buoys

 

My next adventure took me to Chicago, an exceptionally generous birthday trip to see two of my favorite people on the planet. It was another one of those incredible experiences where I basically felt overwhelmed with joy the entirety of my trip. It didn’t hurt that I was surrounded by fabulous handsome gentlemen and cuddly puppies throughout. And I finally got to see that thing called The Bean.

Bean

 

The summer was capped off in a similar manner as all of these favored moments. Surrounded by the people I love most. This time participating in the nuptials of another cherished friend.  The weekend overall brought me back to all of the times I loved most about high school and summer. Talking into the night, swimming, watching fireflies. Add to that a beautiful fairy princess of a bride and a buffet of sausage and the result is perfection.  There were traditional family dances, defiance against a 60+% chance of rain, laughter and sparklers. And a pretty sweet centerpiece.

leigh wedding

My summer story is about beginnings and endings. Reconnecting with those I have loved for years, reminiscing, finding new adventure. And laughing. A lot.  And planning what is next. 😉

My Summer Story

I have been MIA, but it’s summer so I will blame it on the fact that I have been traveling. Actually, I have been informed summer is in fact now over and I need to start working a full day on Fridays, but alas. If I could sum up my summer story in a word, it would be magical. There were some parts of the summer that were exquisite, some painful, but as an overarching sentiment, I will opt to go with magical. There were so many moments throughout the summer where I sat back and reflected, or more aptly said aloud to myself  “This was more fun than I could have possibly imagined”. Maybe it’s the fact that I have started to anticipate mediocrity in order to accommodate my high expectations, but I doubt it, because who can truly lower expectations? Not this girl. So I’ll start with a round up (or two, who knows how long this could take).

BJ- Suitcase

BJ always tries to join me on my travels.

Summer started with a family trip to St. John. It’s been a family destination for years and one of the final places my mother wanted to be laid to rest. So we obliged. Days were filled with old favorites like happy hour at an island “dive” Woody’s intertwined with the new (ish) Fatty Crab, Virgin Islands edition. With poolside painkillers at The Westin St. John and swimming in the ocean with my beautiful niece, in addition to that I spent the week communing with starfish and sea turtles on nearly deserted beaches, it was both a perfect beginning and end.  Since St. John is so hilly, the views are obscenely gorgeous. If you don’t get St. John, you just don’t get it.

St. John View

So that was hard to top, but fortunately I had a lot of plans this summer. I had a nearly perfect birthday, a pretty gorgeous Fourth of July, and I already told you about Montreal.  One more thing I will add about the hospitality at Le Centre Sheraton Montreal, one way to win over this American is with a welcome ritual involving molecular gastronomy and booze. And rainbows never hurt.

Montreal

The next magical memory of summer was a trip to North Fork to celebrate one of my favorite brides. We toured three wineries, Lenz, Bedell, and McCall. At each we tasted fairly delicious wines, most memorably the Roses. Maybe that’s because I love all things pink, but I am fairly certain it was because they were crisp, floral, and not too sweet.  The wineries were beautiful, rustic, and charming and I was able to pet horses. It was a good day, but mostly because of the deep soul soothing laughter that comes from a weekend with your favorite girl friends and Cards Against Humanity.

North fork

This is getting lengthy; I’ll do a part 2 so your eyes don’t bleed.

On perks.

Welcome! I have moved and I am glad you are here! Now that the formalities are out of the way, I can get to the imperative topic I would like to explore.

Today as I was taking a shower, or possibly three, I got to thinking. There I am, showering in my miniscule NYC tub, curtain sticking and most likely depositing mildew onto my body, and I got slightly depressed. It was just yesterday that as a perk of my best friend’s puppy sitting, I was rinsing off on a Chelsea rooftop, no curtain in sight, surrounded only by unadulterated urban views. This was after playing with a fantastic puppy all day, swimming in a private pool, and popping bottles of bubbly like a boss.

Today wasn’t the first day I felt let down by my at home shower experience, however the recent dip into the waters on the other side caused me to be a little skeptical of my own dwellings overall. Between my microscopic shower and a recent fly situation, I am basically living a step above the streets. What is this shambles in which I have allowed myself to reside?

At the end of the day, I am sure I will fix the fly situation, and maybe I can get a new candle or something to spruce up my bathroom Feng Shui. And at least for one sweet second with my pool swimming, roof top mingling, and non-claustrophobic showering, I got to feel like Beyonce.

 

So happy I am a sentimental pack rat.

As I was looking through old photos and cards in preparation for recent bridal event, I discovered one of many cards from my Mom. She was the queen of snail mail, sending cards throughout my adult life for any event large or small. The following (from my college years) is typical. 

This didn’t show as clearly as I had hoped. It says “Hello- Nothing happened in Vermont AGAIN today. Goodnight.”


Dear Marissa,
I can’t find what I bought you. Big surprise, huh? But when I do find it and mail it, look at it very carefully, especially the label because it is especially for you. Nothing new in CT, same as VT. Well only 16 more days to Valentine’s Day + only 11 more days to my special day + 2 more days until my special month. I hope everything is special with you. Your plant is groovy + misses you. Beauty misses you + Daddy and I miss you. Well now that I‘ve written you a card I hope you’re happy.
Love

Mother

This is such an embodiment of so many of her characteristics. Thoughtful, wacky, funny, and constantly losing presents. I was trying to remember if she ever ended up sending me the lost item. I couldn’t recall,  but I am sure it was hilarious.

See something. Say something?

It recently became apparent to me that I am more paranoid about in tune to potential homicides than most.  It started innocently enough, when after being blown off by one guy or another I began to justify this sudden absence by assuming the man was in a coma. It was after I began to increase my Investigation Discovery consumption that I accelerated my justification of said rejection from coma to murder.
It became old hat for me to say, “Oh that guy? Haven’t heard from him, I am pretty positive he was the Long Island strangler anyway.” And as I type this, I still think this to be true. I guess the feeling of relief of having my life spared is meant to outweigh the annoyance at rejection? I don’t know…. I have issues. I am working on them. 
Apparently, all of this television watching combined with the belief that I exclusively date murderers, makes me feel like the female American version of Sherlock Holmes. This belief has forced me into a constant state of questioning whether I should be saying something about all of the potential criminals I am seeing throughout the streets of NYC, which is quite problematic because as paranoid as I might be, I dislike any type of authority figure beyond reason.  I am not necessarily proud of this fact, but at least I am aware of my weaknesses?
Anyway- so I am constantly paranoid and in denial about the fact that someone could ever not want to date me, you get it. But I have a point beyond that. This is basically a 2 part revelation.  Last week I had the great pleasure of going to Montreal for an unforgettable work experience. And I have to say those Canadians have it right.
Flying can be a pretty harrowing experience for most. But immediately after physically detaching our plane from LGA and entering a flight pattern towards Canada I could feel a tide shifting. People were friendly. And helpful. And that adorable little accent! I could just listen to flight attendants discuss safety procedures for days! The Canadians also know that a well timed drink (11 am on a Monday? Absolutely) is the way to this American’s heart! The French language, the cobblestone, and mostly that calm Canadian vibe, sold me on Montreal. I didn’t think anyone was going to murder me once! Although… I wasn’t there long enough to find someone to date and then reject me. Regardless I have drawn the conclusion that I am not overly anxiety prone, it’s New York!  Je t’aime Montreal. Je t’aime.


The love I have for rainbows is insane. I am not a mathematician but rainbows + Canadians= heaven. 

need.water.now.

This past July 4th was spent, as most past have been, on the Cape. Having spent nearly every summer, with the exception of a few, on Cape Cod for a better part of my life, it’s always good to be home. And I am not sure if it’s because I am a water sign or due to my aggressive hot flashes, but I am never happier and more comfortable than when by some large body of water.   Anyway, I was forced to come back to the sauna I call a home due to my obligation to work for a living post July 4th and although the isle of Manhattan is surrounded by water by definition, my ability to be submerged in water is limited.
I’ve mentioned in the past that I have the good fortune to live just steps away from the ever classy John Jay Community Pool.  So imagine my surprise and delight when my best friend stopped by on Sunday and wanted to go for a swim. (Most times when I suggest a trip to the pool to friends, it is met with laughter. I am never kidding.)  As the words were out of her mouth I simultaneously donned my swimsuit and was ready to go.  I almost felt the same joy as when my parents would inform me of an upcoming trip to Disneyworld as a youth. (slash if I were to decide to go to Disneyworld right this minute.

Anyway, I’ll cut to the chase. This city is so damn hot we were rejected from the community pool.  Desperate, sweaty city dwellers were lined up for hours in wait as the shrieks and cheer of swimmers echoed from within the confines of the swimming area. I am so depressed. I never thought the day would come when I would be rejected from the community pool, but alas, new accommodations must be made. Fortunately there are options and I will be exploring them all. King and Grove, prepare your waters for me!

They say it’s my birthday

So it’s my birthday.

I have never been a huge fan. It’s like most things in my life. I get overly excited, then stressed out in order to achieve the dreams I have established for the day of my birth and ultimately let down that I cannot reach the ridiculous expectations I have set forth for the celebration.

Birthdays to me mean straightening my hair, being with my best pals, and potentially dancing the night away until dawn’s early light with the knowledge that I can do what I want because it’s my birthday. Not that I typically shy away from the “I do what I want” attitude, it’s just that usually what I want is to be snuggled up in my bed far before the dawn’s early light.

So ultimately, I can’t actually stay awake to celebrate appropriately. I wish I were a person that wanted to shout from the rooftops that it’s my birth month. Plan extravagant trips and celebrations. Be the guest of honor at a surprise party. But at the end of the day birthdays bring about a lot of emotion and anxiety to me. It marks the fact that I am one year older and not necessarily a year closer to where I envisioned I would be at this stage of my life.

I am looking past that anxiety this year and focusing on how 29 will be my best year yet. Just like New Year’s Day, I will plan to do things better this year. I will be more focused on peace, love, and happiness… and all that jazz. Let’s see how it goes. Happy B-day to me…