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