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Archive for the ‘The Liberated Life’ Category

mod-11414-moms

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 (momster?) 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—very, very afraid.

stroller2

A typical encounter: The sidewalk is about 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. I am approaching, but cannot get around you without going into the street and facing oncoming traffic.

And I don’t want to interrupt your flow; that’s just rude.

It could be said this behavior is quite similar to people in text mode mindlessly walking down the street fixated on the phone — except here you’ve got a baby in tow and you’re not really looking at anything around you except your friend or phone, but never at your precious bae and never straight ahead. You do have that bulldozer.

stroller3

This is why The Stroller Mafia is dangerous. They are 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 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, they are rolling side to side, sidewalk to sidewalk. The other parent and all pets are allowed to walk beside in a nice red-rover row.

Keep being bad, beyatches. Own your space. I can respect that. It’s a thankless job. You deserve to be selfish.

But please, be kind to others who did not inflict this pain.

I’m patient, but I have no tolerance for bulldozers.

For more…

 

Success

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…

Click below to coninute reading the story…

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pajama-rich

 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

monogram-etiquette

Welcome to the UES, where old money gents are mellow yet insecure because they didn’t earn it themselves, or, even worse, it is from their wife’s side of the family and hurts their di(ck)nity.

Moving down to other generations, like mine, which I think have a slightly better grasp of the real world, I am still bothered by the double-kiss, or the improper way of not switching hands (fork only in your dominant hand; knife down resting diagonally on edge of plate) once you cut something while dining. If you are not from Europe, why are you following European etiquette?! One kiss, and switch hands.

Seriously, for everything old-money privilege buys in education and smart connections, you should know better. I am always appalled to see how the most wealthy are so dumb when it comes to proper etiquette and manners. Simple things like introducing people or being able to connect with new people through the art that is known as conversation.

I think it is safe to say that many children of old money are ill-trained in manners and the value of hard work (I mean very hard work with long hours, not doing community service for your current DUI or coke-induced altercation). I don’t know if your parents encouraged you to pursue anything you wanted, or just told you you could do anything you want. There is a difference.

This isn’t necessarily about a sense of entitlement, but being raised with a sense of how to speak, how to act around others, and how to treat other people, no matter from where. I’ve found that many of the 1% don’t get it. These are invaluable lessons that will hold you back from pursuing your dreams, no matter how connected you are. If you cannot connect to people, they will not be connecting back.

I feel sorry for you fortunate enough to have a few generations of inherited money, because often that means you were not encouraged to develop inherent people skills.

Anyway, my two-kiss lover from Europe…well, I just found out he has four names! So now I really can’t make fun. Except for those table manners 😉

But take a moment to think about every aspect of your public persona, as well as your audience in any setting.

And behave accordingly FTW.

bow tie prep

The popular (senior) boys in high school were called The Crunchies. They were a mix of highly preppy, privileged stoners with major sideburns and long hair, though this was not the seventies, just 1998.

They listened to The Grateful Dead, Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix, Pink Floyd, Cream (and Eric Clapton on his own), and developed a love affair with Phish that they’ve sustained for life. They preferred bow ties and Nantucket Red pants.

The Crunchies were an interesting type of bad boy, and all of the freshman girls, including myself, were fascinated. The Crunchies, in turn, were fascinated with us. While we had the youth card to our advantage, we were our own off-the-cuff breed that diverged from previous generations of our prep school’s girls. We were loud and opinionated (and maybe, yes, cringe-a-little tacky), but we ruled.

Perhaps part of the appeal was the opposition. They brought introspective chill into our lives and we brought the festivity & flair into theirs.

The Kent Crunchies in their photo glory…

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happiness

I remember my mother telling me about a former friend of hers who said, “If only I get that new Mercedes, I’ll be happy;” “When I get that mink fur coat, I’ll be happy.” The thing was, she got those things and countless others, and was never happy.

When it came to materialistic things, she got everything she wanted. There was no financial issue holding her back from obtaining what her heart(?) desired, yet acquiring those things did not make her happy—at least not in the way she thought they would. She had a void that could not be filled by accumulating beautiful objects. Neither could it be filled by her loving husband and amazing daughter.

I feel extremely sorry for people like her. Take a look around you and look at everything that you do have.

Who cares about that shit when you have been blessed with health, happiness, and love (naturally!)?

I think this country needs to get Back to Basics, and I say country, because this is not just some local problem of my parents’ and their friends’ generations having wayyy more money than they knew what to do with, spending lavishly (read: foolishly) and running out of things to spend it on in the boom-boom eighties and early nineties. No, this is something that has contributed to ruining of the US of A on a national level involving everyone, regardless of economical level. Something that I do not see when I travel elsewhere. #Ungratefulness #ShameonUS

The introduction of “reality” TV and social media birthed the hideous term fomo (“fear of missing out” Oh, the horror [eye-roll]), and media use this as their tool to instill our spending weaknesses (money and time), all of which have only heightened our anxiety and dissatisfaction with our own lives.

Moving on from my childhood of Material Eighties Excess, there is a much bigger beast in the room: Knowing everything others have and are doing In Real Time. Smartphones and computers have not only allowed us to be connected 24/7, they encourage us to be involved in the diaspora, to live in the false sense of world that others create, the stories they write about themselves, and tactically entice us to partake in a Jones game rather than be aware of real life.

It’s embarrassing that technology, which has helped us in so many ways socially, has truly hindered the human race in actual, real-life social communication. I was trying to watch a football game and everyone in the room was on their phones—including (sad to admit it) me.

I especially appreciate how people beg for my one-on-one time and then when I finally carve out an afternoon in my crazy-busy schedule for that person, they need to call  their boyfriend/gf to update on “Gia and I just saw this. We are having so much fun” or snapchat or interrupt their own story because “We must take a photo here” or some such. We are all guilty but STOP. I don’t get to talk with you every day; I made the time; and I don’t want to be present if you are not.

I am here; I am now.

And I will not be here next time because you are wasting my time to communicate with someone you see every day (when I could be working on my infinite creative projects in the works that I tear myself away from to spend time with you).

I will not be here forever.

The time is way overdue to Get Back to Basics. Be here, be mindful, be present. Look around you. Life is happening Now.

lies

People hate me because not only do I expose the truth about them, I am honest about the Devil I am. Take it or leave it. I believe in being upfront and open because I don’t like to waste time on liars or waste time on lying.

Yes, sometimes the truth stabs but I do not believe in sugar-coating and I do believe in calling people out on bad behavior. I equally accept people calling me out on mine because the things I say are shocking and sometimes offensive, even though I don’t intend them to come across that way.

I have always been honest about my shortcomings, so how about before you lie to me, you take a good look in the mirror and be honest with yourself?

Who are you?

You all know who I am. And I am not always fun and pleasant. I am loyal, but mostly unforgiving when you’ve crossed my path after I’ve fought for you. But now you fight against me? Good riddance.

I am very particular and protective about the people in my circle and quite thought I had the skill down, but there are still jerks in disguise that not only drain me, but make me look like a jerk in my loud self-defense. Oh, you’re the quiet one in front of friends so you are good.

NO. Just because everyone else doesn’t hear what you say to me doesn’t mean that I didn’t hear it.

But all my neighbors do hear you in the middle of the night as well as hear their walls shake and it’s embarrassing for me to even defend you because everyone is so worried about me. Just trying to live a normal life. And it really is awesome without the toxic people.

If you own yourself and your ish from jump, it’s someone else’s fault if he or she gets involved. If you lie about ish from jump, it’s your own g-d fault that that crashed and burned all over you.

#justsaying #learnedalotoflifelessonsataveryyoungage #nobullshit #willnottakecrapwithoutafight

Just saying.


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