Primary Colors

Bright colors have always attracted my attention, thank you Hasbro and Lisa Frank.  But, it's a Chicken vs. Egg situation. What came first, the marketing campaign aimed at girls, or the girls who inspired the marketing campaign?  Either way, I was a captive audience. (I still love gumball machines, even though gumballs are gross.) As a "cool" "jaded" New Yorker, my closet still implies that I visit my magical horses at Paradise Estate.  Well, I like colors, the brighter the better.

#buymelilly

On my morning commute, I noticed an advertisement that appealed to my love of all things Lilly Pulitzer.  Like many subway ads, it was for a medical trial.  I assumed this ad was saying, "Even preppy girls get the blues." As someone who dreams of the past where I spent my days in my best watermelon colored outfit, in the company of ponies, Legos, and Fisher-Price foods, the reality of bill paying, cleaning, and feeding myself can be a bit of bummer.  This ad was targeting me, a thirty something year old woman trying to Have it All, I met many of the ad's requirements. 

Then I had a realization.  No where in the ad did it mention seeking female volunteers.  It was my own assumption that because the ad was pink, it was looking for ladies.  Then came the moment where I realized I was part of a bigger problem, I believed that specific things, including depression, are for specific genders. 

I am well aware of the "princessification" of little girls, it is impossible to purchase a gift for anyone without it being pink or blue.  Popular toys are offered in colors that force girls to be obsessed with pink and glitter, and for certain toys to be for boys only.  

Ooo look, a fun little car.

But here is the literal PRINCESS version

sigh, the truck version...

 Even as an adult who loves pink and glitter, I am proud to say that I choose to be this way.  After all, preferring one color over another is just that, a preference.  I shouldn't be judged for it, or judge others for not liking it.  What I am worried about is today's toy aisles.  They are overwhelmingly full of items that teach girls that shopping and spa days are what define you as a human woman. (The boy's aisle's still sell cars, super heroes and bugs.) It's counter-intuitive from today's "Have it All!" mentality. 

a PINK school bus?!? WTF!

Even LEGO!!! OH THE BETRAYAL!!!!!

Society is slowly progressing into accepting gender identity as something deeper that the blue/pink divide, it would be great if our toy stores reflected that progress.  Maybe toy stores should allow kids to decide what color they like rather than tell them.  Then again, maybe it comes down to my own assumptions.  This might be one situation where I'd say that if thinking that pink is only for girls, than I'd like to be wrong!

All comments aside, do they make this in ADULT?

Chocolate For Your Thoughts, Gummies For Your Dreams

One afternoon, on an apartment forage for chocolate, I hit the jackpot. Chocolate Covered Espresso Beans! They were amazing, delighting my taste buds with delicious chocolate polyphenals while giving my body the Jolt of caffeine it craved due to my (unsuccessful) efforts to cut back.

mmm...the taste of cliche 

My moment of joy and satisfaction reaped consequences later.  As I turned off my bedside lamp my heart was still geared up for a late night of television bingeing, all night reading, or maybe even the chance to paint the town. (Since I used the phrase "Paint the Town", it's pretty safe to bet how I usually spend my late nights.) 

Unfortunately, the next day, I needed to be awake at a decent hour. Of course, this thought sent my pulse racing, my brain stumbling into the depths of anxiety...yes, the alarm is still set...Why is it that the need of a good night's sleep increases anxiety-induced insomnia?

He makes it look so easy!!!
http://thenourishingsoul.com/

I tried channeling my thoughts and connecting them to deep breaths. This works momentarily, because as my body slows down, my brain speeds up.  Rather than drift to sleep, I contemplate my life choices and question their validity.  "Why did I delay doing laundry today?" "Why did I leave those dishes in the sink, overnight?" "I can't believe I ate ALL the Hummus!" "Should I get back into acting?" "What can I do to make myself a better person and contributor to society?" "Is New York the right place for me?" "Where will we live if we have children, how is Connecticut considered suburban NYC?" "Is there any chance I can squeeze in an extra beach trip before it gets too cold?"

Thank you SPF 50 & Beach Umbrellas!!!
Photo Courtesy of New Jersey

These are questions and answers I should be pursuing during daylight hours. (Particularly the one about laundry.) Yet, it is so easy to get distracted by life and television.  

Perfect is the enemy of Good!
Photo Courtesy of my iphone

To ease my brain, I tell myself, "So what if you're a little sleepy tomorrow, and the alarm goes off in the middle of a dream where my husband and I are taking swim lessons at my hometown pool." (I'm not really sure I want to know how my subconscious plays that one out.)  

Late at night, instead of deluging myself with questions and disappointments, I should trust myself that by taking things one day at a time, life will work itself out.  (Thank goodness for American Middle Class privilege!) That being said, I could really go for some chocolate, I think I still have some of those chocolate espresso beans left!  

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Change is the only Constant.  I'm pretty sure I read that on a Successory while leafing through Skymall.  I apologize, I don't know the original source, especially because he or she probably offers many other deep words of wisdom.  (It's too serious to be Jack Handy, the provider of most of my Deep Thoughts.)  Change can be very exciting, lending itself to improvements - but it also lends itself to a lot of anticipation, chaos and ambiguity.

Change can also lead to dollars! Badum Ching!

New babies, new jobs, new romances, and in my case, a new apartment.  On the priority scale, a new apartment is pretty low.  Especially if you consider comparing floorplans, window moldings and wainscoting fun.  Basically, I was anticipating my personal episode of House Hunters mixed with a little Selling New York.  (Having lived in New York City, I feel like I can now give a huge eye roll when people in Minnesota complain that the house doesn't have a "bonus room".) Of course, I have been looking at apartments that are lucky to have 500 square feet, but with the original moldings and easy access to an express train, it must be worth the $5,000.  (I'm exaggerating, $5,000 would get you at least 650 square feet.)

Open floor plan/ bonus room!

Either way, apartments in Manhattan are ridiculous, and I do hope that the bubble bursts soon. Manhattan would lose character if teachers, service workers, and artists are all pushed to the limits of the outer boroughs. However, in the spirit of keeping this light, I will step off my soap box promoting the importance of affordable housing.

When we moved to New York, we ended up in a great apartment in a neighborhood I call Epcot New York.  It is new, well maintained, and everyone points using two fingers. Just kidding about that last one, it is NYC after all.  Unfortunately, Epcot has become really popular, even without Figment.* Even one of the Real Housewives lives here! (Sadly, I have not run into her.) When it came time to renew our lease, the rent was so high it would make anyone blush, and me cry.  (Unless you live in the West Village, but then you get charm, great restaurants and throngs of Sex and the City tours at your doorstep.) Thus our search began.

Isle of Dreams & Oligarchs

Thank Goodness for the internet.  (Not going to lie, I have dedicated a yoga practice to the internet and the ease it has brought into my life.)  My addiction to Streeteasy.com began, as my husband and I decided to trade in our great view and reliable hot water tap to venture into the world of pre-war apartments.  While constantly refreshing the web page to find a nice pet-friendly one bedroom within a fifteen by three block area, I became obsessed.  (I have my reasons for refusing to live below 72nd street, both stemming from working in the service industry and being under 70 years old.)

The craziest part of the apartment search is the quick turn around.  There is a call for instant action as soon as you find an apartment that fits at least one of your needs.  (None of this "let's go to the park and deliberate" BS that the House Hunters get.)  On Monday, I left my house armed with tax returns, bank statements, proof of current residence, and a checkbook.  Normally, I am pretty casual with my belongings, but for once I clung to my purse like a tourist, even in the elevator where I currently live. The thought of experiencing one of the Freecreditreport.com musical tragedies was racing through my mind.  No hacker necessary, I just needed a savvy pickpocket and I'd be wearing a pirate suit hawking shrimp at Bubba Gump's in Times Square.

The real question is: Who is this?

After seeing an apartment with hallway roaches, another one that permanently smelled of cat urine, an apartment that charged $1000 just to move in, and an apartment that had technically already been rented, I found a place that will hopefully be a good home to my husband, myself and our furbaby.

Home is where the Hobbes is.
Follow me on Instagram @KristenOCD15

Fingers crossed that by trading modern amenities, as in a speedy elevator, to an elevator that is manually run by a human, will be worth it for the change of scenery viewed through windows encased with vintage molding.  If not, then bring it on again next year, I almost have this apartment thing down!

HOORAY!!!!!

*I won't include a picture of Figment because I don't want to be sued by Disney.

Spring is in the Air!

I haven't written anything in a while.  I wish I had a great excuse,  "I was playing as hard as I work", but I've been facing something of a creativity stalemate. I've felt  settled, lacking need to release anxiety through funny quips and hyperlinks.  (The internet is such a vast resource of time wasters! Remember Roundhouse?  Here's the theme song!)  However, motivation has been biting me in the butt recently.  Actually it has been more of a soft puppy nip rather than the chomp of the shark, which is why it has been a while. 

You should blog already!

So here I am, between seasons of Dance Academy, feeling the lull between Downton Abbey and Game of Thrones  attempting to come up with something clever to love and mock. Oil pulling? Yoga etiquette? Easter tabletop decor?  Well, I haven't gotten in the habit of oil pulling to fully describe the benefits.  I still have no idea if it's proper behavior to step on someone else's mat after class*, so I guess I'll tackle my unexplained love of Easter decorations.

Is there a cooler group of Aussie teens? 

As an obsessive shopper, my inbox is full of messages from houseware companies offering to brighten up my day. Imagining a bunny-themed pastel influenced tablescape excites both my love of ridiculousness and bright colors.  (A consolation prize to ever moving to the suburbs, I will have crazy plates for each season. Since the only thing stopping me now is lack of storage space, not common sense.)

Isn't this the most delightful table ever!?!
(Are those individual carrot & celery dippers?)
www.horchow.com

When I pull the three Pottery Barn catalogs out of my mailbox on a bone chilling January day, my heart skips a beat.  A reminder from retailers that spring is on its way... in two to three months. Catalogs picturing Easter baskets trigger my love for nostalgia, remembering the special ruffled pastel dresses with matching hats.  (That were removed immediately post photo due to elastic chin strap discomfort.

Vintage Easter 

In case the video doesn't load

 https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=533800507569&set=vb.22803056&type=3&theater

Perhaps I enjoy memories of childhood egg hunts mixed with the adult freedom to to eat as many chocolate eggs as I want.**  As I search for compromise between a vase of tulips and a full on jelly bean garland and giant rabbit cookie jars, I continue to  delight in the rising temperatures and the store displays featuring a magical egg hiding rabbit.

Hoppy Spring,
Kristen

*I don't walk on your mat, why did you walk your gross sweaty feet across mine? Namaste
**Hence the need for lots of yoga

Redemption Rewards

I recently accomplished an amazing feat of willpower.  The Nordstrom Anniversary Sale came and went, and my credit card remained uncharged and my $20 reward credit is still folded safely in my wallet.  So while I won't be receiving a new pair of AGL Ballet Flats in the mail, I can proudly wear the pairs I already have, and breathe a sigh of relief to have one less bill to pay. 

So Adorable, practical, and comfortable.

The change of seasons is a difficult time for shopoholics.  My inbox full of emails with news of great deals on summer clothes I can wear now, and store windows display clothes that excite me for the apple cider days of fall. (Also for temps that return the NYC subway stations to a habitable environment, and less of a Jungle Hell biosphere.)  But still, I am trying to appreciate the good things that I already have.  The happiness received from saving an extra 30% only lasts until I have to squeeze one more blouse/pair of shoes into my closet.  (Maybe some day, I will save enough money to hire a decorganizing consultant.)

Even as I successfully spend more time reading the news and practicing yoga, I still can't help notice the cute top on the woman next to me, and wonder if it is still available at Lulu, and if...it's on sale!  (Perhaps this is why my inversion practice is lacking.)  I suppose like any addict, I have to take recovery one day at a time.  Perhaps doing little things, like tossing the J.Crew style guide, instead of immediately flipping through it and dog-earring pages.  Or deleting the Gap Friends email, instead of pulling out my datebook and reworking my day around the nearest Gap. 

I have a doctor whose practice has the same subway stop as the 59th Street Bloomingdale's, rightfully subtitled "Like no other store in the world".  To avoid carrying multiple Big Brown Bags into the waiting room, I stopped wearing makeup to my appointments.  (Only people with defined eyelashes and glossed lips deserve to interact with the latest Kate Spade dresses.)  However ridiculous and shallow this sounds, it worked.  Now I have to find a method that is just as effective for online shopping.  (Only people with brushed teeth deserve to visit Shopbop.com?) 

Perhaps I should stop thinking about shopping from a reward & demerit perspective, perhaps I should try and find rewards in my yoga practice.  (Rewards other than an excuse to buy a new No Limits tank).  Perhaps if I continue my dedication to yoga, next year I will have achieved a Zen like state where I finally realize that material things don't matter.  I bet if I can make that kind of metamorphosis, I could start my own Self Help line, and that is a great way to make a LOT of money!

Okay, so I have a long way to go.  Until then, pass the New York Times...starting with the Style Section. 

Here Comes the Bride!

Growing up, I never cared about weddings.  When I was a flower girl in my aunt's wedding, I remember riding in a limo and attending numerous annoying dress fittings. (If only I knew how to appreciate my 14 inch waist.)  I tried to host a MLP wedding at Paradise Estate, but my mom got upset with me after I used all of our toilet paper creating a white aisle runner and other various decor.  (As an aside, I didn't own any male MLPs, perhaps this when I became a GLBT ally?)

What a lovely venue!

I never pushed Barbie and Ken into matrimony either.  Maybe this was because Barbie had a wedding gown, while Ken had a wide selection of swim trunks.  I didn't think Barbie should have to settle for Totally Hair Ken, she drove a Ferrari after all.

Who's he looking at?

   

Here's an outfit acceptable for the set of Full House.

Finally a Tux, so what if it looks like a suit worn by a "recovered homosexual".

Perhaps this is why in my young adulthood, I was hesitant to join the wedding hype. (I'd like to think this has something to do with Feminist Pride, and not because of lack of dates.)  Then the invitations  began arriving in the mail, and I realized something...weddings are FUN!  They are an excuse to dress up, eat finger foods and dance all night with the confidence only an open bar can provide!   Then something even better happened...I met someone I wanted to marry.  I wish I could say it was at least 6 months into our relationship before I spent most of my work day investigating wedding vendors, but it was probably 6 weeks.  (Sorry Temp Agency!)

Who knew there were so many awesome places to throw a party, and so many options for wedding entertainment (Jump Shot Photo Booths? Wedding Cornhole!?)  Also, wedding planning re-awakened my love of stationery. (Embossing! Monogram Stamps! Cocktail Napkins covered in photos of the couple's childhood!)  

Isn't Marie Young the luckiest wedding guest EVER?

Courtesy of the Etsy Shop Southern Calligraphy

Fortunately, by the time my husband and I tied the knot, I reined myself in...

We didn't get to have a Step & Repeat,

or a personalized dance floor decal.

Instead, we had a great wedding, it was one of the happiest days of my life.  While we missed out on all the great stuff theknot.com has to offer,  I'm keeping my fingers crossed for a Vow Renewal. 

Where You Lead

I loved the show Gilmore Girls, so much that I seriously considered moving to Stars Hollow after college.  A small town  full of characters and not completely destroyed by America's love of the Big Box Store...sigh.  While Amy Sherman-Paladino made being a former teen mother with a genius daughter seem like one great adventure after another,  one loophole was too deep for my sense of reality.  Both Lorelai and Rory ate about 4000 calories a day, all while looking like they topped out at 1800 and spent quality time in Pilates.  A lot of dialogue focused on their extreme consumption of junk food, and I wonder if it was a way to make them seem "real".  As if healthy eating makes a character crazy and uptight.  But, hey, maybe the Gilmore girls were lucky, their witty banter burned off all of those breakfasts at Luke's Diner.  

And their skin & hair was always so radiant!

photo: http://www.theawl.com/2013/03/a-fans-notes-on-gilmore-girls

Why is it so terrible for a character to care about their health and appearance? After all, it is  mandatory for people in the entertainment industry.  Is it worse to think of a young, 99 pound starlet casually eating cheeseburgers than it is seeing that same starlet airbrushed on the cover of a magazine?  Why can't the young starlet admit to eating mostly salads, and that carrots and celery aren't so bad? Can't an actor be a vegan without being a vegan activist who feeds their babies regurgitated carrots and peas? (Ahem, Alicia Silverstone!) And, who can stop their eyes from rolling when someone admits to avoiding carbs?

Why does every magazine article featuring a young actress include the food on her plate? Why do we, meaning I, a Gossip Magazine Headline Reader, care so much about the digestive systems of the stars?*  I'm not sure, but if biting into a Carl's, Jr. hamburger will turn me into Heidi Klum, I may have to reconsider my vegetarian lifestyle.  Or perhaps the magic of Stars Hollow was not only the small town vibe, but that the water was full of nutrients to compensate for an ill-balanced diet!  

Perhaps the real problem is my love of television, and that I often mistake it for reality.  But if this misconception keeps me thinking that someday I can move to Stars Hollow, I don't want to be right!

*Digestive Systems of the Stars is my new reality show pitch, coming soon to the WE network!