Guilt

I’ve thought about it and decided guilt really isn’t a great motivator for anything, really. Especially in my case, I think. Guilt feels like a thick, coarse rope tied around your limbs that tosses you around and around until you are too exhausted to fight back.

Guilt is what kept me in a relationship for six months just a few weeks ago. The three months before that with someone else. Two years with the guy before the other two.

The list goes on, you understand? Guilt hasn’t been too kind on that subject.

Let’s see…oh yes. Guilt is the reason I gave up on everything I applied to in college and just gave up. If I had packed the guilt into the trash where it belonged I wouldn’t be sitting here in my parents apartment writing about it.

I would be in Thailand right now riding on my scooter and answering e-mails on my new iPhone about my startup in Flatiron. I would be glancing back toward coach from my business class seat and snickering while I sip my champagne and kick my feet up after a string of business meetings in China. Oh guilt…you have humbled me into average inadequacy.

So, my post New Year’s resolution is to toss guilt (and the fear on the bottom of that barrel) out the window and not even watch it crash. I do not have time for that right now.

I will finally wake up Monday morning and not venture into anything guilt related and just flow.

Image belongs to Zara.com

TURN UP it's *insert your zodiac sign here* sign.

Smells like fish in February apparently. 

The above is the atrocity that has taken over every social media site (primarily Instagram), and if it's killing you too you're on the right page, obviously. 

We all have that person we're friends with/follow who clutters our feed with unsolicited Virgo or Capricorn "wisdom". You know the one I'm talking about? It's usually someone we haven't hung out with since high school who has made some significantly questionable life choices. The fitting room attendant at my retail job in college is the subject of this post today since she's the one with the most advice on three things in life she prioritizes:

1) Virgo season

2) Getting 'turnt up'

3) Money

In that order. I can't even....

Why do I still follow her you ask? I have no idea. People like her are literally polluting my stalker tool belt and making me scroll past Ashley's or Chad's terribly edited Capricorn, Aries, or Gemini photos till I finally find what I'm looking for. 

Why all the attention on Zodiac signs anyway? Please feel free to leave all the advice about those down below. I'm truly looking forward to being educated on the subject. 

(That's sarcasm for anyone that hasn't detected it yet).

Look, if you have the time to search, edit, and post about your pride of being born on a certain day or month, then more power to you. But please, ask yourselves, is that your only defining feature? 

Because at this very moment every single follower/friend/subscriber on your page is rolling their eyes at all the energy you're investing on that subject. 

50 Shades of Grey Soundtrack

Hot. Damn. There is some serious sensuality flowing out of my speakers right now. I'm sure I'm not late to the bandwagon just yet because I think the entire appeal of the franchise is that it is a guilty pleasure on every level.

But I will admit to several things right here and now:

1) The books were slow paced and certainly repetitive in some ways (but it is art, ok?) Just like this blog, some days you're like *eye roll*, and others you just want to come back and skim through my tirade. And that's ok!

2) I haven't seen the movie yet because everyone I know has already seen it with someone that is not me.

3) I've listened to about ten remixes of every single song on the 50 Shades of Grey album.

The next time I'm with a significant other I will have Beyonce's Crazy In Love 50 shades version in the background and the guy will have no choice in the matter.

Oh! Here's a list of all the songs on the album ranked by sexiness, curtesy of Zimbio: Sexy 50 Shades Album, Ranked

Thanks for reading!

P.S.: Keeping this short because I'm finally going to venture outside of normal rants and focus on stuff with photos. And other stuff. 

Valentine's Day & Thank you Kanye

I have to give it to Kanye...Blood on the Leaves is one of the best songs to work out to and it turned me on to Annie Lennox.

Kanye, you've got one of the best celebrity personalities of all time. Thank you boo.

But...Valentine's Day! I woke up to a series of Happy Valentine's day texts today, how sweet! Nothing screams romance like "Happy Valentine's Day" notes from all the people in long and steady relationships.

Actually....I haven't had a solid Valentine's Day in a few years now, and I don't feel like I'm missing out, you know? V-Day forces couples to slap a magnifying glass on all the cracks in their relationship and then fill those cracks with chocolates and flower petals. Unless you're in the honeymoon stage of your relationship, that is exactly what's happening - don't even front.

The reason I started out thanking Kanye for the best workout song? Because I know the gym will be emptiest it's ever been today and as soon as I decide to stop watching rom-coms and eating my soul I'll get right to it.

Have an enjoyable Valentine's Day everyone. 

Elevators. I want to talk about elevators today.

They come in all shapes and sizes, square, rectangular, round even! But I think what really needs to be discussed is elevator etiquette. Hell, I'll even throw in some escalator action in here for you. Hold your applause, k?

Now, if you are a sane human being, with any spatial awareness, WHY is it that when you stand in an elevator alone and another passenger gets on you HAVE to stand near the fucking remote control of the whole car better known as the buttons? And then we have to say "excuse me" to brush our hand past your stinking belly! And of course you have the audacity to look sideways at us and act all inconvenienced.

I just ....cannot. I can't.

What I've witnessed in New York elevators:

• nose picking
• making out wetly and loudly with significant other (...been guilty of that actually)
• groping
• farting (for those of you who know me you KNOW I pointedly stare at that person until they or I leave the premises)
• arguing with mom (this happened in the elevator at Hunter College and it was hilarious)
• arguing with dog (Face Timing the fucking dog)
• PICKING UP DOG'S CRAP (this one in particular is ... just....IN THE ELEVATOR!!!!!)
• Pushing yourself into the car of the elevator when it is clearly full and then looking up as if we all don't exist. (every single person reading this has experienced this I guarantee you)

I haven't witnessed actual fornication in the elevator yet so I guess those are minor things right?

Now on to escalators. In the New York subway. During rush hour.

You're thinking "This happens in every city!"

Wrong. There is basic fucking etiquette on ANY escalator ok? If you're slow, you stand to one side (depending on the side the sheep picked) usually it's to the right. The left is usually considered the "express" lane for those of us who consider a few flights of stairs exercise.

There is an occasional idiot who stands on the express lane but depending on your luck that day, one of the sheep will move to the incorrect side and create a sort of loop hole for the express lane folks to go through. It's all very technical, I  know.

The other day however, a gentleman was moving an entire TABLE (a table, guys, a fucking TABLE!) toward the escalator on Lexington and 53rd Street stop. I was thinking "surely not, maybe he's just queuing up for the elevator. Surely not, this guy cannot be moving an entire table at 8 AM." 

I'll admit right here and now that I was wrong like I've never been wrong before. This asshole cut me off and placed the entire TABLE on the escalator, with everyone in front and the back gaping at him as he took up all the space and left a huge line of people in a rush struggling behind him.

You think I have any faith left in humanity after incidents like this? 

Have you been here?

This goes out to all the commuters who brave the sluggish slow pokes in the morning who clearly don't want to go to work and then stare at those same asses in the evening. Literally.

I have a few words for those assholes. 

MOVE. Does your ankle hurt? Did your girlfriend walk out on you? Why did you decide that the one moment to teach your kid how to take his first steps is on a fucking subway platform? Why is your kid dragging his backpack on wheels and practicing his ABCs on a fucking subway platform? YOU HAD THE WHOLE TRAIN RIDE. 

And YOU, you with the phone and Twitter or Instagram and the fucking selfie album, MOVE! 

You see, the reason I'm bringing this all up is because I was in a good mood this morning. I mean, a really good mood. I skipped to the station and listened to the salt crackling under my boots kind of good mood. Then I swiped my card (and it went through the FIRST time). The train arrived the minute I got there and I made it inside without any old Asian ladies racing me to the seats --I'm looking at you Main St. stop on the 7 line.  I felt good. Until I got off at Lexington 59th Street Station. I saw it all: 

• The clueless tourist with a PAPER map (come y'all, we all got smartphones for that shit) 
• The old lady with the walker (at 7 am, I know, I know) 
• The Latin family with too many kids 
• The Hasidic family with too many kids 
• The construction workers who spread their legs three seats wide 
• The homeless lady who doused herself in Fabreze. 

I'm telling you, I have seen it ALL.But what really irked me was the fact that for some reason on a fucking Monday evening, everyone in my train car decided to make a BIG purchase. I'm talking lamps, rods, cabinets, strollers, probably a casket somewhere, and other large items.  I was quietly asleep at my usual window seat, which is why I didn't even notice the horror collecting in my subway car.  

As I was leaving, I wasn't prepared for the sea of boxes and oversized bags bumping into me at every turn, and RAMPAGING to the nearest staircase like it's fucking Black Friday. 

SERIOUSLY people? The same rule applies when you have a child in a stroller: when you have to stop and organize to carry it up the stairs, that means that you have to let the rest of the folks without any baggage pass you because you're hesitating at the middle of the fucking stairs and nearly causing an avalanche. 

Thanks for deciding to ride in the same fucking subway car as me, proving that my luck only works in one hour shifts. 

That is all.