Cell Hell

cell phone rude

There was the month without being able to text, then the new phone which weighed too little. (Is there really such a thing as being too rich or too thin?!) Well, I can say there is such a thing as being too lightweight when you’re a hardware device. You scream dangerous. You have a frightening factor of illegitimacy.

I just picked up another new phone and have faith that it will work with me. Sorry for all of the missed communication for the past two months when I was anti-phone. I apologize to those who think I’ve been ignoring them. Full disclosure: If you reach out now and I don’t get back to you, it really does just mean that I’m ignoring you.


25 Signs You’re Not Ready To Settle Down

delayed adulthood

After reading a very poorly executed article my brother shared on “the book,” I decided to take the concept and create a better list. I kept a few tidbits, but essentially rewrote the entire thing.

I present to you the G version of “25 Signs You’re Not Ready To Settle Down”:

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I think when you embrace your quirks and really own them, you come into your own. I’ve recently spent time with some younger dolls who were always a bit socially awkward and not fully embracing the qualities that they had to bring to the table. Lack of self-confidence is natural when you’re a baby and feel out of place. You think you have to adapt to some mold.

But as you get older, you can choose the life you want to lead, and as I’ve said before and will say again, “You’ve got you, you’ve got one life, and you best be living it for you.” Anyone a bit or much older (well, those who are not ignorant, because there are plenty of those tragic, stuck souls) will tell you that once you do, you’ll be happier.

I’m so happy to see some of my shy friends blossoming, having the confidence to be authentic to themselves. I always felt weird about being me—not looking perfect all of the time, not always saying the right thing, not being comfortable with my true self because it totally does not fit in with the society I grew up in—but that was me, that was and is who I am. My best friends, crazy-big family, and people I associate with on a daily basis through work and business think my individuality is rad, and that’s pretty cool.

It doesn’t matter that I wasn’t awesome at soccer, basketball, field hockey or lacrosse. I wasn’t the best violinist, best singer, best ballerina or the best leader in every power position I was appointed to from elementary school throughout college and beyond. I’m a terrible driver (of cars, not boats). I’m dreadful at winter sports, not amazing at horseback riding, and have yet to surf, bungee jump or skydive (too scared). I wasn’t the best actress or editor despite my successful careers in both. None of this ish has mattered in the long run. It’s not important to be the best or greatest at something—it’s important to be happy and do things that make you happy and surround yourself with people that make you happy.

I wish I could say to my younger self: “Spend less time worrying about what others ‘may’ (and probably don’t, or if they do, they must have pathetic lives) think about you and more time being yourself and enjoying life.” It’s short; don’t waste it on stuff that drains your soul and ultimately serves no purpose but demise.

New experiences with my fave people or those from different walks of life challenge and fulfill me, even the endeavors I’m afraid to undertake or have failed at in the past. I’ll go in with a positive attitude and will probably have fun.

The main point that I’ve veered from (another bad habit of mine) is that PEOPLE LOVE YOU FOR YOU. Not just your family or best friends, but so many marvelous beings, acquaintances, and those strangers you have yet to meet. This world is such a big place; please never feel confined by your environment.

Battle of the Birthdays


There are certain times of year when it seems to be everyone’s birthday in my circle. I credit this to the fact that I am attracted to certain zodiac signs way more than others.

Hence, at these peak times of year, I am in a tizzy because I must decide whose Saturday night birthday party to attend (as everyone always wants to throw it on the Saturday closest to their actual Bday, hoping to have the best turnout).

It became necessary to develop a formula. When it’s hard to decide between friends, I ask myself: How much do I love said friend? Am I obligated (bestie, family)? Did this person attend my birthday party? Is it convenient to get to the party and worth me spending time and money? Will my frenemies be there and do I feel like dealing with them? And least of all for me but still important: Do I have anything to wear? (Everyone’s seen my clothes 1000 times. Time to hire a personal shopper since I hate shopping yet love acquiring new things.)

The factors that play into this choice are simple yet unpredictable to other parties involved and often mind-numblingly dull yet necessary to indecisive me.

Last weekend, I had to make a choice. I was able to hit up two birthday parties out of three involved, which I think is an achievement in itself for far-away places and different groups of friends. Stats for the one I skipped:

Friend? Check. Like him? Yes, but not obligated. My Bday party? No show. Hotel Chantelle? Too out of the way. Time & money well spent? No, he’ll be too wasted to remember I showed up…until someone posts pictures. Frenemies attending? Questionable. Anything to wear? Nope, bored with my closet.

It’s as simple as that, folks. Feel free to use my decision-making BDay formula to determine which parties will make you Happy.

Conversations: Eccentric People Make The World Go Round

There’s nothing like hanging out with you’re huge ecclectic and loving family when you’re kind of confused in your life. You don’t have to tell them anything. You just listen to their stories and learn. It’s the best feeling. Everyone may be alone in their own struggle, but we are not alone.

And those in higher places right now—nothing but inspiring.

We Must Always Have A Conflict With At Least One Person


Otherwise, the world would not go round. For shame!

I used to think it was only certain people: people that needed to have conflict in their lives to give it meaning or simply to have something to talk about. I was convinced my mother must always be mad at one of us four kids or one of her four sisters to survive. Someone always had to be doing something wrong. I felt the same about a former roommate—if you are one of my 13 former roommates, don’t worry, I’ve loved you all and it’s probably not you if you’re reading this—and several friends’ attitudes toward others. I thought it was a coping mechanism to deflect something these people didn’t want to deal with inside themselves, as it was unjustified anger more often than not.

Yet, I’ve found this dark side of myself lately where I like being mad at someone for no truly terrible reason. It feels so good to be angry. There’s some comforting release about having a (living) voodoo doll or several to blame everything on. I’ve been angry at people for real things, but now I find myself wanting to be, something I’ve only seen in so many others who like to stir the pot, and I kind of like it. There is something to be said for the passionate energy that comes from being mad. It makes me feel unusually badass knowing I’ve ruffled someone’s feathers and walked away.

I am starting to understand the thrill of it, not just the displaced anger part. People get their highs in different ways; I never understood this one until now. There is so much material, creatively, when you come from a place of anger. It can be productively advantageous. Also, more to banter about with your friends. It’s like I see clearly now, on the crack of madness. It is motivating, dramatic (we are alive!), and freeing. It is a scary thing. The feeling…and for all involved.

Back to School

From JerseyCityGal.comIMAG4556

After selling most of my stuff at the Riverview Fisk Flea Market two weeks ago, I felt justified to buy new things.

Even though it’s been a while since I’ve gone “back to school,” this time of year is a great time to revamp your life and begin a new chapter.

New season, new things. Right? I rarely buy for myself, but it is just high time that I do. My sneakers are failing me. My clothing is getting thready. My iPod and phone are both glitchy. My jewelry just bores me. And I really, really want a bike.

I began my new (frugal) shopping spree with a corduroy bomber jacket, two skirts, and a new sketchbook/journal. The hair-bows are from the 6th Borough Market.


I then bought some things (T-shirts, candle, soaps, lip balm, wristlets and baby headband) at the All About Downtown Street Fair. Most of these are gifts.


The JC GAL bracelet is obvi not going to be gifted.

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New underwear. Hey, you should refresh that drawer every sixth months with a few new pairs and toss the old raggedy ones. I wanted tropical colors to hold onto summer just a little bit longer.


I feel refreshed already!

Next up: fall and winter booties, a winter coat, and everything I haven’t yet purchased mentioned above…oh the list goes on. I probably won’t have time to acquire most of these before Christmas (hint, hint, family!).

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