electric.

The City that Never

PART I

After living in so many places throughout my life, I have realized one very important thing: no matter how awesome the place is that you are living, it doesn’t really matter unless you have good friends and a supportive community. I say this because everywhere I have ever lived — Palmdale, San Clemente, San Antonio, Austin, and Beijing — I’ve always had a community and a lot of really lovely people/friends/family to surround myself around.

I am now living in the heart of America and in the world’s most vibrant and electric city. It’s really amazing to be here, and I will tell you that first hand, but I haven’t thoroughly enjoyed my time here as much as people would expect. Don’t get me wrong: I do really love it here and am so happy to have this opportunity. But it feels like there is a large part of me missing, and it’s because…well…there is. I have a few good friends here, but because our schedules and lives are so hectic, it’s hard to find the time to hang out as often as we’d like. This, ultimately, leads me to spending a lot of time exploring on my own or exploring none at all. It really is a shame, because I know the city is great and full of things to do, but I have been doing so many things by myself for 5 months now that I am dredfully bored of spending time with me. My new best friend. And worst enemy. I’m trying to fill my time with fun things and the good news is that I am really challenging myself an opening my mind and heart to new things: improv, singing, yoga, kickboxing, independence, etc.

PART II

I started taking a Level 1 Improv class 3 weeks about at the People’s Improv Theater. It’s been a TON of fun and really opening the doors of my mind and awakening my inner-ham. It’s been incredibly challenging to allow myself to feel more vulnerable than I do now, but I am so happy to be taking on an extracurricular that is so much fun! I am taking an 8-week course with 3 hour classes each week. At the end of the course we have a show and we can invite all of our friends and families. I’m super excited to see how far we will progress by the time our final show rolls around and I can already see growth from Day 1 to Day 3. It’s incredible how a class of 16 strangers doing improv really brings people together. My team has great groupthink and an amazing ability to let ourselves go, no matter how foolish we may seem. It’s been a great challenge and I hope to carry on this game of improv for as long as I can. 

PART III

I think since I am living in New York I am going to just try and become famous. I think if I am going to be famous it is going to be now. I’m not really sure how to do that, or what it even means to be famous, but I am certain that this is the path I am intended to take right now in my life. I’ve been trying to brainstorm ways in which I could become famous and this is what I have concluded as of two minutes ago:

1. Get discovered singing rap songs and banging on plastic containers in the subway.

2. Go to an open mic night at the People’s Improv Theater. 

3. Send my head shots to every big time agency in the City.

4. Create a mixtape with Raj and get gigs around the City.

5. Pray to Jesus and hope that karma is good to me.

All of the above could be practical methods of getting famous, but there are a few problems here and there. The first is, I don’t have any plastic containers and do not think I will obtain any in the near future. I also don’t have head shots nor do I believe in praying to Jesus. So, ya know, I guess I am just gonna cross my fingers and assume that I will be discovered in this giant ocean of talented, beautiful, and creative people in New York City. Here’s to hoping…

PART IV

“With all your tirals and tribs in  NY, remember that its all just making you a stronger more independent Beyonce. I’m proud of you!” Thanks, Sarah!

New blog

Check out my new blog at: NewYorkYawp.Tumblr.Com

College Night.

I love Tuesdays. One of the great advantages of Tuesdays is that its the day before Wednesday and the day after Monday. Meaning, it doesn’t suck because it’s Monday, and Wednesday is just around the corner so the weekend is practically here. 

The sole reason I love Tuesdays, though, is because of a great little thing Raj and I discovered 4 weeks ago. Our tradition is but a month deep, but I feel like I’ve been doing this my whole life. It takes me back to my Texan days of spurs, pool (I never played pool, it just sounded right), and the refreshing taste of a cold glass of Blue Moon after a hard days work. I give thanks to the rowdy and ever-so-classy “Off the Wagon” for developing my deep-rooted love for Tuesdays and a reason to drink on the weekday. 

The secret behind my love for Tuesdays, my friends, is College Night. 

The first time Raj and I stumbled upon College Night was on a hot night after eating a falafel down the street from NYU. We’d wanted to find a place for us to get a cheap drink, which is seemingly impossible in New York. After aimlessly wandering for 20 minutes, singing rap songs, and talking about whatever it is we ever talk about, we see a shiny sign held by two baby angels wearing diapers made of gold chiffon. The played their harps and threw flowers on our heads and as the white doves flew into the night skies, our eyes met theirs. They sang to us, the sweet baby songs of college night. The sign read: TUESDAYS IS COLLEGE NIGHT. $8 & $11 PITCHERS. After a decade past, Raj and I looked into each others eyes and he said, “Wanna go here?” “Sure,” I replied. Looking back at those brief moments, I would tell my past-self only one thing: “Rock out wit cho cock out, muddfukka! It’s college NIGHT!” 

Raj presented the bouncer with his college ID because, duh, it’s college night. When in reality, he needed to actually give the bouncer his real ID because it turns out that actually no one in college was at college night. It was all regular business peoples or random dudes from Midtown. Nonetheless, we got cozy in our booth and ordered ourselves a pitcher of Blue Moon…for the low price of $11. Ain’t that a steal?!

And that is how the tradition started. We’ve had our fair share of visitors stop in for college night and one of the bar tenders even gave me a free drink last week (ever try Dark Side of the Moon? It’s devine). It looks like College Night is here to stay and the tradition will live on until Raj or I move on to bigger and better things (as if that even exists!). My only hope is that when college actually starts, the bar remains filled with business peoples and not those actually celebrating being in college. 

I’m so happy today is Tuesday because Tuesdays are for College Night! 

Skinny (ass) Bitch. Myself, the latter.

Fat people don’t live in the City.

Here’s the truth: I’m not an active supporter obesity. In fact, I almost hate it. I think it affects way too many of Americans, especially the youth and the uneducated. Those lardy people who eat fried chicken and don’t give two shits about what it does to their body…those are the people are worse off than carnies with small hands. I think fattness is a reflection of my intolerance for lazy people, because I generally assume that fat and lazy go hand-in-hand. If there are people who are fat and it’s a genetic disorder, that’s generally fine. They can’t help it. They didn’t choose to be fat — they just gotta [belly/donut/bread] roll with the punches.

I feel like one of the best ways to determine whether or not someone is a local or a tourist in New York is how much the weigh. Generally, the overweight pale people who sit on store steps with fanning themselves down are from out of town. The locals are usually on the slender-er side and have a quick pep in their step. We walk so much here, it’s kind of convenient in terms of decreasing the rate of obesity. (The only trouble is that there is so much delicious food here and so much alcohol to drink that thank heaven we are walking(!) or else we would be just as fat as the rest of them.)

Well, my point in all of this fat talk is because I have become even more consciously aware and worried about gaining weight since I moved to New York. I have always been health-conscious, and after that 15 pound weight gain in China (don’t even get me started on the acne), I’ve always feared putting on weight when not living in my normal and natural environment.

Every other woman living in this city is drop dead gorgeous, and I think that fact along gets lodged into the subconscious of all of the ladies living here. I don’t know if its because I work with all women, or if it really is the City, or obesity rates are actually decreasing, or if women have just gone nuts, but I think we are growing more and more conscious about what we put in our bodies. Which I find GREAT, if used properly. This is where I get concerned…

There is always talk about what we eat in the office, how we are “trying to be good today” (I never say that because I always know I am gonna eat that damn cookie), and we all are counting calories. It’s crazy! I don’t know if its because I am working with all women, or if all women are actually like this, but I know I have become very aware that not only do I think about what I eat, but everyone else does as well. I’ve never heard so many people talk about it and actively work on it. It’s good, but it’s also not.

Maybe people are thin here because New York is a relatively educated/progressive city or maybe its because New York is known for high-fashion and the glamorous lifestyle of models and movie stars. Perhaps this is why people feel the need to be skinny. I don’t know why we women feel this way. All I know is that I have become a victim of society and I want more than ever to have a body like Heidi Klum, a heart like mother Teresa, and a brain like Marilyn vos Savant. 

I think it’s good we eat apples and bananas and have healthy doses of veggies and protein. But I also hope that we don’t allow ourselves to be happy and dislike our bodies and the way we look. It seems dangerous to have too many people in your immediate surroundings to think this way. It’s making me paranoid. Does paranoia make you fat??? Crap.

When I grow up, I want to be a…

1. B-girl: I wanna be made. 
2. Rapper: I am working on my lyrics to be released on the White Collar Ballers “Worst Hits” album. 
3. Real House Wife of China Town:  Real Chinese women are some of the most barbaric women I know to exist. I walked past two the other day in my apartment building and could smell their breath from miles away. They’re so damn loud and aggressive. I should have been born a Japanese. They, at least, get to wear flowers in their hair and tempt men into have sexual relations with them. Chinese women just spit and China-squat on stoops all day, yelling at the men to tell them when the chicken is ready. 
4. Street Performer: I’d like to sing love songs and wear overalls. 
5. Dog Breeder: but instead of selling the dogs, I’d keep them all to myself until I ended up on Hoarders and the cleaners found dead dogs tucked in corners of my home. 
6. Chelsea Lately: duh.
7. Farmer: eggplants, tomatoes, basil, and bears! Oh my!
8. Con artist: a female manipulator, ex-communist, heart breaker, and diva.
9. Rich: cause, why not?

I am moving to New York City.