Two things for today

1. We got our new mattress! Can I get a wha-whaat for Seely?! Aaaand I bought new pillows, down comforter, and Egyptian cotton sheets. One of my dreams fulfilled. It really is one of my dreams. And would you believe that John actually purchased doggy stairs? Now Sparky can get on the bed without our assistance. There are many levels at which I am uncomfortable with this, but I love John. And love makes everything right. Right.

2. Turns out we're too rich for New York. Which is funny because I always thought we were too poor for New York. It's a long story that will only bore. Just know that I want to buy the t-shirt that says "I'm too poor to enjoy New York" - because it has to exist.

In between is the worse place to be

I watched a time lapse video of New York and realized that the water in the Hudson actually flows downstream. Sometimes I forget that everything doesn't stop for the big city of New York. That must seem like a strange thing to write. Especially since New York is known as the city that never sleeps. I know there's a better way of saying this, but sometimes I want to sleep on my own timing. And this city doesn't let you. And sometimes everything seems to be about the people walking down the street, and not you.

It's been bizarre how I've come to realize/accept my general attitude towards living in New York. I promise that I was in denial about the part of me that was sad to live here - for the past year and a half. That's a long time to be in denial. But I wanted to be supportive of John and I didn't want to ruin his experience here with my home-sickness. Finally though, I allowed myself to be sad about not having family and friends around everyday. I miss a lot of things about Utah. I stopped everything to come here. My job, job opportunities, connections, networks, comforts were all left. I left without giving a second thought because it was for our family and it was what felt right. And now, I'm more grateful for what I had. And I know better how to value those things that I have now.

Yet I'm adamant that moving here was the best thing for us and I hope I'm proven right over time. I don't want to let the annoying things about this place depress me. I don't want to dwell on the bad. I want to allow myself to have the energy to move past those things and do something worth remembering while I'm here. It's scary to write that. It's scary because it's not like I didn't try before - it just felt so lackluster and wrong (because technically and lawfully it was). It was a wake up call to say the least. I had no direction whatsoever, and I didn't know what direction I really wanted to take. I guess, without a goal I'm useless.

Over the past year, the pieces have slowly come together for me in the "what do I do with my life" realm. I'm slowly but surely making baby-steps toward this goal. I don't ever remember being this cautious. My goal since about the age of 5 was to be a professional dancer. Just like thousands of other little girls, I'm sure. I remember sitting in my room on the floor playing with my toys when my Mom asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up. I said I wanted to be a ballerina. And a thought (the first negative vocalized thought I remember) came to mind. It said something like this, "you can't be a ballerina when you grow up; it will be too hard for you". And because it is my nature, I decided to pursue my dream with reckless abandonment. And it worked pretty well. I pushed many things to the side to pursue this goal. I received special studio scholarships, encouragement from professors at the University of Utah who I didn't know had been watching me in class, a place in a secondary company in Utah, and offered a contract to perform ballet on the high seas when I was 22. I overcame many obstacles, and gave up a lot to pursue my dreams. Although I knew I wasn't cut out for the NYCB or even Ballet West, my goal of being a professional dancer was met with the help of my Heavenly Father.

Yet, it wasn't a victory that would define the tone of the rest of my life, like I thought it would. And that's what I've come to terms with during the time I've been here. It's been confusing and difficult for me - my own personal limbo. I now have something to work for, and I'm taking it easy just to be sure that it's for real (is this real life?). I don't want to go full force if this is a fleeting desire of mine. I don't think it is though, so I guess it's all or nothing. I don't know if I can go into something with a kind of in between attitude. That just doesn't work in general in my mind, it doesn't compute. There would be too many questions left behind if I didn't try. The only thing stopping me is my hesitancy and fear that I won't like it. That's not a good enough reason though, right? See and find out, right?

New York State of Mind

I have more than usual on my mind. I wanted to say that I had a lot on my mind - but I don't think I've come that far yet. I always feel like I never end up saying what I want to say unless I put things in lists or in an outline. If I organized my thoughts into an outline I could then write a cohesive blog post. But as I already know - I am way too lazy for that. Plus, I tend to make a lot of jokes about myself. Which are completely mindless, but at the same time I always go back and erase them - telling myself not to be rude to myself (which in turn makes me feel bad about the original jokes that I made about myself). Yeah, so there are a whole slew of things that go wrong when I start to write a blog. So here goes:

Staten Island is a borough of New York City. So technically speaking I live in NYC, but not Manhattan. And sometimes I think about how uncool that is. That even Brooklyn would be kind of a sweet deal - especially since I tend to think that's where all the cool artsy people moved to once all of Manhattan "sold-out".

And even Staten Islanders tend to think of themselves as separate from New York City, they've even attempted on numerous occasions to officially separate themselves from New York City and remove their designation as one of the boroughs. If anything, Staten Island shares more with Jersey City (which I've gathered from hearing conversations and reading articles about Jersey Shore - something I've never seen or a place I've never been to).

So I think about the uncoolness of Staten Island. But then I start to think about what our lives would be like if we moved to Manhattan (all twenty-five minutes away). And it would mostly include logistical changes - which would be refreshing and frustrating in their own way. Then I realize that I prefer living in Staten Island. The cost of living is cheaper and the quality of living is better - and yet we get to enjoy the city. And in reality - downtown is only twenty-five minutes away.

The second thing that I realized is that I need to start loving New York like I did before I moved here, and stop hating it for all its faults (which are many). But I still hold to my opinion that Empire State of Mind is the most annoying song of the century. It may have to do with hearing it any time I board a bus, train, boat, subway, or cab - or even walking down the street or go grab something to eat. It makes me want to blow chunks and turn into a raving maniac.

Sidetracked - sorry. So, I've realized that although it seems most New Yorkers are either cranky, materialistic, angry, evil, or so odd to be beyond my comprehension and my ability to relate to (where was I going with this again?), I have a choice to sink into that hole where everyone else is or choose an experience in New York that is my own. I may choose to not allow the mood or actions of others to determine my experience or mood. How about that for a mantra. I never thought I'd be the type of person that would need to learn this, but alas here I am. I'm not too good for a good lesson to be learned.

I have to mention that this realization came while I was taking a yoga class yesterday evening. Beforehand I took a class called Knockout Sculpt by this instructor. This is completely besides the point (again), but I thought it worth noting that the first time I took his class I lost, not complete mind you, but partial bladder control near then end of the forty-five minute class because it was so difficult.

But back to my story. Knockout Sculpt let out later than scheduled and all the potential Yogis waiting to use the studio were writhing and spinning in their frustration at how impolite and rude it was of the instructor to go over time and not apologize directly to them. One man in particular seemed to want to lead a movement and was attempting to dredge support from his fellow classmates to file a complaint. I noticed in particular the substitute instructor not mentioning a word. And when the students realized he was there to teach, started to complain directly to him. He quickly and smoothly changed the subject and started class. Not wasting a moment on something so inconsequential to the grand scheme of things.

I really appreciated his attitude. He wasn't angry or indignant, but he wasn't self-righteous either. And maybe it is related to the eight hours a day he spends meditating - but he just let it go. I realized I could be the angry man or the man that never even let the anger grab hold of him. At that moment I wanted to be the one who let it pass by without even noticing. I want to be like the guy in my neighborhood with the huge afro and a smile to match who always remembers my dog's name even though I never remember his. I want to be like the lady in my old ward who emanated love and who seemed to have a general conference translator each time she spake - as if she could speak only eternal truths and love (even when talking about chicken salad sandwiches). Even if it is difficult to find roots in such a big city with so many people - it is possible to be happy.

And in relation to my last thought. I realized that I need to stop being disgusted by fashion and commercialism (which New York City if filled with). And that mostly everyone (maybe except the Omish) fall prey to "their" schemes. And it's okay to give into fashion - in moderation. And that if people feel happy and cool because they wear suspenders, cowboy boots, and Yoko Ono sunglasses it's okay. And that maybe, just maybe they can be that invested in how they look and still be happy about life at the same time and are not only dressing that way because they aspire to have the image of a certain stereotype. And maybe now I can enjoy shopping instead of having this internal conflict about what each piece of clothing represents and what the repercussions are by buying it.

I guess in the end I just need to let loose. I mean, a lot has happened since moving to New York. It takes time to adjust, and finding a place to be happy doesn't mean fitting your life within certain social parameters. It seems like my life is completely unconventional at the moment - and I should appreciate the opportunity to have this experience! If I put it succinctly, within one year I quit a management position due to corruption and fraud, I quit my second position due to questionable practices, and was laid off from my third job due to their poor business choices, lack of money, and once again, their questionable practices. I am currently unemployed, not completely devoted to finding a performing dance job any longer (that is another novel for another day) and now I have all this time to explore New York City! I'm determined not to stay home everyday but to explore and enjoy my time here - even if I have to do it without John. And that is it. I'm going to tell myself that it's okay that I'm not gaining more than an experience in New York. An experience in and of itself is enough.

So there. I don't think that was actually directed towards anyone except myself. Hopefully I can stick to these goals and provide for a better New York experience and come to share Billy Joel's state of mind (not Alicia Keys).