No offense to moms with babies and toddlers, but seriously, I think you are going to kill me.
I used to be more afraid of NYC bicycles than NYC taxis. Now I’ve realized that I have a whole new monster to deal with: aggressive strollers.
While I had transported way before the crowd to Jersey City, and way before the intro of supersized suburban strollers and increasingly aggressive hyper moms, I now have to be afraid—be very, very afraid.
Like the sidewalk might be 12 feet wide and I see you with a stroller of two and your friend with maybe one tot in the stroller and one on the hip and you have your dog and you still both manage to sip coffee and look at each other while walking down the sidewalk. I am approaching but I can’t get around you without going into the street and facing oncoming traffic.
And I don’t want to interrupt your flow. It’s like people in text mode mindlessly walking down the street fixated on the phone — except you’ve got a baby in tow and you’re not really looking at anything! Like, maybe you are looking at your phone, but none of you are ever really looking at your precious bae.
This is why The Stroller Mafia is dangerous. They are just concerned with themselves, blindly running over people while they chat. As long as they are pushing that thing up and down curbs and hills, they are feeling in the zone and on a mission. That stroller protects the little b, so they can ignore the dang child—and everyone else except said walking companion, whether dog, other parent or friend. Well, GuRL, show some respect for your compatriots on the street.
You’ve truly got this down to a robotic science. I panic and stop because where do I go?!
The Stroller Mafia LOVE their kids so much they give them portable bedrooms. If two are young, side to side, sidewalk to sidewalk. The other parent and all pets are allowed to walk beside in a nice row because you are royalty. You are a family: You have the big regal strollers and big spoiled children, so you deserve the right to take over the entire ten-foot sidewalk and shove older kids into oncoming traffic because there is nowhere, even a nook, for regulars to step aside and wait for you to pass while remaining on their own safe ground.
You shove people with your stroller while you power away on your cell. You take your angry aggression at being a mom and having dependent(s) out on everyone else.
Keep being bad, bitches.
Just get the F out of my way.
I’m patient, but I have no tolerance for bulldozers.
I’m proud to say that I don’t owe anyone for my personal success in life. My parents financed my education and raised me with lots of cultural exposure, and I’m very grateful for that. But it was up to me to utilize that knowledge and create the life I wanted for myself; no one can actually “achieve” things for you.
I was born a dedicated, independent, hard worker. I didn’t need to be supervised because I had such an innate structure about my life. My parents never worried about me, as they did my brothers. They knew I was responsible and would take care of myself and do well.
I wouldn’t even let my mother dress me when I was younger; I always knew what I liked and what was right for me. I like being the boss, which is why I became one a year after graduating college; it’s why I was appointed president of a few clubs in prep school. I am a leader; not a follower. I have opinions that are usually on-point with the market when it comes to business. People often don’t trust my opinions…oh so much money lost. Not my probz.
This is not to say I don’t like creative collaboration. I just hate working in corporations where my professional opinion is not considered, especially as a female and a person who knows a certain demographic very well. But getting back to the point…
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A phrase to describe one who does not have to wear real clothes to go to work, or to any formal business event, such as a professional meeting, a legal settlement or dinner.
Basically, the dress code of Hugh Hefner and all tech leaders. I don’t think this applies to weddings or black-tie balls, but if you really are that rich—technorati rich—it probably does.
It is the counterpart of Kimono Living, when you don’t have to wear anything fancy on the daily because you don’t have to go anywhere. You work from the comfort of your beautiful, peaceful home. Or indecent apartment, if you are are not super wealthy (yet, you hope, because you consider yourself an entrepreneur and act as such).
These two worlds share much in common in dress code and entrepreneurial spirit. Yet, one is at the top and one is at the bottom. The people that encompass these realms are actually quite compatible. Each group lacks certain traits that the other has socially and they share many innate business skills. Quite complementary characters.
One is used to being glorified; one is used to glorifying themselves (or both contain these qualities, which is perfect for them). It’s the Billionaire to the Trophy Wife or the “Pretty Woman” theme.
I identify with each type: I work in the tech world with peeps that are NYC business casual, but in a building that Anna Wintour calls her Vogue home. Do I need to be a fashionista in One World Trade? Probably. Technorati is not glitterati, but perhaps we need dress super innovatively for Conde’s sake. (It’s so hard in the winter!)
Who wants to think about fashion?
But there is also the semi-relaxed me, that works from home on the weekends in my own creative space in a beautiful Kimono.
Eventually, I’ll be able to combine all efforts and be Pajama Rich. And maybe, my silky casual style, will even be recognized in Vogue. #lifegoals
When you’ve known people for a long time or even your whole life (without even remembering much from the early days), you see them in a lot of outfits and more importantly, colors. So for my family, when they are thinking of others in the immediate group, I’ve created the Family Color Palette.
Mom: Turqouise, Neon Yellow, Magenta
Piers: Orange, Royal Blue, Canary Yellow, Aqua
Rindy: Navy Blue, Red, Dark Gray
Dad: Black, Red
Will: Lavender, Purple, Celadon
And me: Hollywood Cerise, Ultra Pink, Navy Blue, Neon Orange, Gold (metallic), Yellow
Please study the Pantone chart to get your own colors right.
Some people get more tragic with age.
So many older boys I seriously crushed on in high school are seriously not hot now that they’re adults. Adding to inevitable hair-loss or weight gain or what have you, some guys never really grow up, acting like frat boys when they are 35+.
Age doesn’t favor many well in looks so why detract more from what already isn’t working for you? Part of growing up is, well, growing up. Those who actually do are far hotter than those that try to maintain their college personas.
I’m not sitting on a high horse — I’ve certainly lost swagger over the years — that’s part of ageing. Youth is something you cannot regain, whether through acting or dressing or going under the knife (and you shouldn’t!). Nothing truly gives you back the natural aura of youth.
But there is beauty with age that more people should embrace. You (should) gain new perspective and a higher level of emotional maturity. There’s value in that. And there’s also value in taking care of the body that houses your mind like healthy adults do. Strive to be beautiful on the inside; it will radiate outside tenfold.
Almost every time I look at the clock, it says 9:11. Every single day, sometimes twice a day, I see this number. As if I would ever forget. I will NEVER forget.
Alcohol – methyphobia [Understandable, just don’t hang out with me.]
Anything New – neophobia [Change is always hard.]
Church – ecclesiophobia [The structure will not hurt you unless it collapses on you.]
Cooking – mageirocophobia [New York-area people: What is cooking?]
Dolls – pediophobia [Oh, so true. If you didn’t watch the ventriloquist or mannequin episodes of The Twilight Zone, check out this book I loved as a child that my mother just got out of her storage unit. Disturbed would be a mild reaction. WTF are adults in charge of childhood entertainment doing? And furthermore, why did I like this damn book?)
Eating – phagophobia [Another excuse for anorexia.]
Holy things – hagiophobia [A friend went home with a guy who had shrines/ relics to the Holy Lord everywhere. How can you Marvin Gaye and Get It On with that staring at you? #sinners]
Home – ecophobia [I get it if you only had terrible memories.] I am still very much a “home is where the heart is” and, like, my family is EVERYTHING. My own home is EVEN BETTER. I’m a homebody?
Ice or Frost – pagophobia [I have a medical condition and totally relate.]
Kissing – philemaphobia [TRAGIC. Completely TRAGIC.]
Laughter – geliophobia [Again, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?]
Light – photophobia [Most people I know are opposite. Does that mean we’re optimistic?]
Memories – mnemophobia [We all have bad ones…]
Religion – theophobia [no need to be afraid unless it’s corrupting your life. I mean, we live in a free world where you do not have to believe in anything.]