All posts filed under: Personal

Kind and Gentle

  You know you’ve reached a new level of sleep deprived when you’ve started tracking your sleep on an iPhone app.(No, seriously…I’ve been TRACKING my sleep on an iphone app). I’ve tried everything from not drinking coffee (haha, jk, neverrrrrr), to yoga, to going to bed earlier, to guided Sunday night meditations. Alas, I have simply not been able to sleep for oh, I don’t know, about two months. I even started writing down my thoughts before getting in bed at night and upon waking up in the morning to see if there was any correlation between how I was sleeping and what I was thinking about. Maybe if I could figure out exactly what was on my mind, I could get a better feel for where my brain was at. What I realized was that between relationship stress, social stress, work stress, money stress, and everything in between stress, a lot goes on in my dome piece. Perhaps one of the most interesting “findings” was how inwardly hard on myself I was being about …

A Dedicated Minimalist

The first time Emma Kepley and I met for coffee and pastries at a small cafe called Bakeri in the heart of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, it was a kindred spirit vibe that reassured me she’d be able to show the growth I’ve experienced in the last two years of my life, with just the few clicks of a button. (Okay, and some minor direction, girlfriend had to coach me through the first four of five frames). Still, I haven’t been photographed since I was 19-years-old while helping my good friend, Linsey, build up her photography portfolio. Those photographs were filled with bright paint splatter, sunflowers, and driftwood drenched beaches, hopping from location to location, and often from season to season.   I’m on the cusp of my two year anniversary in New York, and however long I decide to stay here, I wanted to document this very point in my life. The evolution from a sprightly college student hoping to take over the entire world, to the always confident, often caffeinated, sometimes narcoleptic, globe-trotting, city-dwelling, hard …

On Being Emotionally Available

We sat in a restaurant with nothing more than a candle, dessert, and inescapable tension between us. Playing air hockey with our conversation, light and sharp, I watched our dialogue ricochet off of the the walls, off of the windows, off my chest, off my chest, off my chest. Each time falling into my lap. Each time, the scoreboard changing in his favor. “I’m just not emotionally available right now.” Game over. Next thing I knew I was stepping into a cab in the Lower East Side trying to make sense of the past hour and a half of cliche excuses for why the human across from me was no longer available. With his emotions. Maybe it was the pie? Nope. That pie was the bomb. It had to be me. But…Emotionally unavailable? To whom? Just me? The world? Come ON dude. When you start to feel emotions you don’t want to feel does the Windows ERROR screen pop up and send you into safe mode? Please advise. For weeks, I stirred over that phrase. …

Things That I Don’t Instagram.

Yesterday I posted this picture on Instagram and Twitter (that’s a sly plug for you to follow me on both of those platforms AND the bridge to the story I’m about to tell you). The image was captioned, “Love your sass, New York.” After posting the picture, I took a brief moment to reflect on this poster and how it speaks to why I love New York. I know I haven’t always felt this way; sometimes I’ve despised it here. I chuckle sometimes when people think that living in New York is synonymous with a glamorous lifestyle filled with swanky nights out and rooftop parties, where I casually make nice with diplomats and celebrities alike. Please know that Instagram is not real life. I generally don’t Instagram the times I feel inadequate, terrified, or discouraged. In fact, here are the real life things that have or do happen that I don’t Instagram: The ungodly check I cut my landlord every month The time I cried myself to sleep at 5:00 in the morning because I …

Gif Lovers Unite: New York Edition

Whenever people ask me how New York City is treating me, I always feel like I have multiple personalities. My answer is usually somewhere between, “Well this week a homeless man told me he was a convicted felon and threatened to spit in my face” and “I stumbled upon a sale at Bloomingdales and now New York is the best city EVER.” I guess you could say it gives me comfort knowing that in New York, I’m never alone. Literally. There are people everywhere. ALL.THE.TIME. As you can see, my feelings about living in New York definitely fluctuate: Because every time I accidentally walk over a subway grate in heels I look like this: Or I have to walk through Times Square: No REALLY though….Times Square: And when I’m furniture shopping for my apartment: When I realize I’m definitely not going to make it to the laundromat this week: How I react whenever the comedy club people approach me on the street: When I see people taking touristy pictures and I creep in the background: …