On a Lighther, or should I say, HEAVIER, note...

My post earlier this week was, well, kinda sad huh? But...it was honest and that's what counts, that's what this blog is for.

That being said, I wanted to make today's post a little more fun and give you a glimpse into a huge part of my life here in NYC - FOOD. Anyone that knows me well will tell you one of my most favorite things to do is go out to eat...breakfast, lunch, dinner - whatever the meal, whatever the time...I'm up for it. Discovering new restaurants and ordering the perfect dish are two of my most coveted personal talents. When living in Atlanta I had every neighborhood covered with a suggestion for any occassion. Admitedly, however, New York City is a little a whole hell of a lot bigger (duh) and the food/restaurant options are ENDLESS. Endless meaning new restaurants are always opening, new reviews are always coming out. There is a constant supply of "buzz" surrounding the food scene here and I'm a huge sucker for it all. Hot Chocolate month at City Bakery?  A restaurant that serves ONLY mac&cheese? A burger called the "juicy lucy"? Or donuts made of potatoes? or specializes in the art of the meatball? Cereal milk, compost cookies and crack pie?? Yes, seriously...crack pie.

Eating out in New York is what you do. Actually, you don't even have to go out...they deliver EVERYTHING here...everything. Even ice cream, cookies, beer. That alone makes me happy. And if you still don't quite "get it"...look at any one of the hundreds of blogs, newspaper articles or magazine pieces dedicated to the food of New York. Serious Eats is a new favorite of mine with tons of options in the East Village and Blonde and Brownie, the adventure of two girls loving food in this city.

Relationships usually begin over food. That first meal shared can result in love, passion and fascination with someone else. For me, the only relationship I've found so far over food in New York is my own personal relationship with the food itself. Food in New York - it's a love, it's a passion, it's a fascination...and I'm totally obsessed with my new crush.

Bagels...my first foray into what is fabulous about the food here...goodbye Thomas' frozen forever!

Whole Wheat or Whole Wheat Everything??

The beautiful burger at Westville, the cute little shop around the corner from my apt...last week I had one of these babies and a chocolate chip cookie (after an awkward first date)

My Sunday hangout - Ost Cafe...the art of the latte

I don't even LIKE eclairs, bu tthis one from Chickalicious in my neighborhood gives them a whole new meaning...

My FAVORITE place in the city - Eataly...you can enjoy this plate of delish with a few glasses of wine and people watch for hours

Or you can have this "slice" of heaven

and finish it up with "une caffe!!" espresso was my life in Italy

and so was gelato. Grom actually came here from Florence!

Last weekend, a friend and I ventured out for ice cream sandwiches. These CLEARLY were not the ice cream sandwiches of our youth...

Momofuku Milk Bar - specializing in Cereal Milk ice cream

Saturday mornings are spent here - MUD Spot coffee. Literally, the best coffee anywhere

Work lunch hours are spent here...Chop't. They do everything...you don't even have to cut the thing!

A client introduced me to BLT Prime - can we say Popover galore?

Italian Sandwiches at Torrissi in SoHo

Nanoosh - ummm, they have hummus. Enough said...

Peels Restaurant - making every Southerner happy

Birthday dinner at Po in the West Village

The Meatball Shop - they do meatballs. and they do them very well!

Mud Truck...this looked a little like my morning today...rainy, long line, still waiting for coffee...

Oh yeah...and that crack pie...

I Definitely Do NOT Have It All Together....

I feel like I have a lot to say right now. Way more than I have time, space or my reader's attention for. Today has been tough. I'm exhausted, I didn't get to the gym, I dropped my blackberry underwater, I hurt someone very close to me, my head aches and I have an endless amount of laundry waiting for me at home. Funny that just 36 hours ago, I found myself utterly content, at peace with myself and the world around me. This blog post was supposed to be about that peace I had found walking through Central Park, a peace that I had yet to find here in this city full of honking horns, blaring sirens, chatty people, long work hours, loud cab drivers and incessant commotion. While I have come to love all of this "noise," I also knew that it's necessary to be able to escape it all, to find a silence that allows you to reflect on the countless hours you've spent turning wheels, talking, walking, watching and making plans.

I'm a big planner. Anyone that knows me well knows that I make plans days before an actual event...I even like to make plans to make plans...unfortunately, I am more planner than I am spontaneous being. I even made a plan to go and find this peace. Armed with my camera and an unusually sunny day, I headed up 45 blocks from the East Village to Central Park. This jaunt started out as expected, smiling at the other hundreds of New Yorkers who found there way to the one green solace in this city. As I got deeper into the park, the quieter it became, the less people surrounded me, and the more I was able to escape into a world that seemed so far away from the hustle and bustle of an everyday life in New York City. The Resevoir of Central Park might possibly be my most favorite place in this city. Not only because it's gorgeous and profound and speaks of the romance that this city affords, but also because it's solace is remarkable. It's so silent there you can hear the runner coming up behind you, breathing heavily and stomping away at the gravel path. It's so silent that you are practically forced to look around and think a million different soul-searching thoughts...

this City is as amazing as everyone says it is...

how far I have come from where I have been....

how much I still have to learn...

remorse for the girl I once was...

excitement for whom I know I will be in the future...

thank you God...

thank you again God...

i wish I had someone here to see this with me...

i need this time alone...

do I enjoy being alone too much...

the ice melting reminds me of my own oldself melting away....

even the birds came out today to enjoy...

how long will I live here...

I feel as though I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be...

thank God...

I feel completely at peace in this silence...

how can i put these feelings into words...

how long will this peace last....

thank God....

So there it was...a circling, thrilling, worrying, flood of emotions brought on simply by complete silence. At the depth of all of this, I felt true happiness, true completeness...for a brief and fleeting moment, all the world was good, every step had lined up...whatever track I was on seemed to be the right one.

and then....today came...

Do you ever know when you wake up that you just don't think it's going to be a great day? Sure you had enough sleep and your hair seems to be having a good day...but there is just a tinge of something that feels looming, you didn't check something you should have, you didn't think about consequences, you didn't think far enough ahead, you just didn't plan. I hadn't planned on today being like a stick in the mud, but it was. In the past, days like this happened a whole lot more often than they do now...but you know what? They happen. They happen for all the reason I listed above. They happen because, well, I just don't have my shit together. I make mistakes and more often than not, I find myself thinking I could have done it better...I will do it better next time. Inevitablely, however, there will come another day like this and I'll probably find myself thinking the same things. But you know what? another day like this past Sunday will come as well. A day where I will step out of this messy, crazy city and into the calming, tranquil resevoir and I'll find that peace. That peace that makes me think, all is good, all is right, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

A smart person reminded me this weekend of a great quote - "If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans." Well, way too often, as I said, I plan. I plan out my life and what I want it to be and what I want it to look like. I plan out blog posts only to be slapped with a not so peaceful feeling. There is no way we can plan out our lives because they are messy. We mess up, we make mistakes, we fall down, we disappoint. But you know, I read once that it is the "slogging through the messy struggle of life (that) can yield moments of pure happiness." Without struggle, how do we know bliss? Without mess, how do we know clean and orderly?

So I write this to you all, anyone who has ever felt the need for forgiveness for the mess that their day may have made. This is also to me, to know that for every mess, there I will be, strong enough to pick up my crazy heart and give it one more try.

 



An Apology...

Looking back at my last post, there are things about it that make me upset with myself. One...I failed to mention one of the most meaningful people in my life...and that not only hurts her but hurts me immensely but her as well. And two, the people I have listed above are no better than the other people that have come and gone in my life or that are still in it. They are simply people that I share an extra special bond with, one that will last a million lifetimes and one I feel very special and honored to have. I am not perfect, even though I have tried to be, so please forgive me my mistakes and my honesty...
This blog is honest to a fault but that is what I've intended it to be and that is what it will remain.

all my love,
Marissa

To All the Friends...

My sister-in-law has told me before that she can't believe the amount of friends I have in my life, the numerous groups that pull my life this way and that. I've always been someone who finds herself to be "friends" with everyone. In high school, while part of a "clique", I differentiated myself and had public school friends, friends from sports, friends from summers, friends in other cliques at school (lord forbid!)...and I prided myself on being that girl. Groups of girlfriends can be tough, though. They can cause drama at the drop of a hate, they can turn two against one, they can oust one because another says to. They, in short, can be "mean girls." I have had my fair share of mean girl experiences...from being part of a group that passed a big gossip notebook around to being part of a group that named themselves "the twelve." Yup, we even bought ourselves necklaces with XII engraved on it. As I write that, I laugh. Knowing that I still share very deep bonds with a few of the "12", I can't say that I'm ungrateful for that group and what they were during high school, but I can say, in the end, you don't remain friends with everyone. In the end, you grow up, you move on, you become your own best friend and you take with you the ones that matter, the ones that count, the ones that are what I like to call "friend soulmates"...

You know how people say "when you know, you know"? Usually this little piece of wisdom describes romantic relationships but I think it rings true for friendships as well - when you know they are a friend soulmate, you just know.

Looking back, I feel as though I still am that girl that is friends with everyone...I can talk to a brick wall and make the most boring of events interesting by chatting incessently and asking a million questions (sometimes on dates this makes me a little confused as to whether I actually like the guy or am just being friendly, but that's another issue, another blog post). That being said, I've finally, finally realized that in life, if you can count your true friends on just one hand, you are very very lucky. I say finally because for way too long I felt the incessant need to be everything to everyone, to say yes to every invitation, to have an invitation to everything, to make sure I was never "missing out" or being "lame", to always be someone people want to be there. I would get bogged down trying to schedule all of my friends in, a lot of times finding myself standing in a crowded bar only wishing I could be home on the couch with a glass of wine and just one other person. In the end, it became exhausting...I felt always the need to be "on" and entertaining...to be that great friend. Now, don't get me wrong, I love being a great friend, I love listening, I love long talks and deep conversations, I love sending cards at impromtu moments and giving unexpected gifts...but I also now know the meaning of true, soulmate kind of friendship.

You have friends and you a friend soulmates. Friend soulmates will be there forever...and have been there from the start. Not necessarily the start of your life, but the start of something significant and they will be there when the significance continues. They are the type that you can not talk to for months...maybe even years, and then you meet up over dinner and it's like you never skipped a beat. I write this blog for everyone in my life, friends, acquaintances, soulmates because I want each of you to know that I think about you all the time and carry our memories together with me each day - you've shaped me, inspired me, lauged with me, celebrated with me, cried with me and grown with me. And while I may not call as often as I would like to and I may not make it clear all the time I do know that when I see you weeks, months or years from now...we'll pick up right where we left off. So this is to you, friend soulmate, from the moment I met you, I just knew, you'd be in my life forever. Thank you for being that for me...I hope I can be that and more for you, whenever, wherever.

Dallas
Sarah

Megan W.

Emily C.

Kristen S.

Haley

Megan J.

Laura M.

Kelly B.

Beth

Kim G.

Ashley S.

Lauren Y.

Alex

Jared

Ben

Joey

Sam

Sarah K.
Brynee

Raeanne

Patrick M.

Summoning My Inner Love Bird...

Happy Valentine's Day!

I thought I would invoke a little bit of "love" from my daily inspirations...the sites that make me want to blog, write, take photographs...live and LOVE...enjoy!





both above from a favorite inspiration of mine - http://joannagoddard.blogspot.com/

My adorable friend and mom, photographer, crafter - Whitney's blog: http://www.oursweetstory.com/










These next three (including the last of my beautiful sister-in-law and brother) are thanks to Jenna Walker Photography, we LOVE you guys! http://www.jennawalkerphotography.com/jwpblog/category/all/

The three above (including the last of my beautiful sister-in-law and brother) are thanks so Jenna Walker Photography, we LOVE you guys! http://www.jennawalkerphotography.com/jwpblog/category/all/

For the LOVE of chocolate...brought to you by http://www.flythroughourwindow.com/

And i LOVE this tumbler...I'd marry this guys in a heartbeat! http://tomywife.tumblr.com/

Working It Out

I became a year-round competitive swimmer at the age of 7 and didn't stop until I was 17. This meant that for ten years I was exercising, what felt like, constantly. Outside in the summer or indoors in the winter, at 4 in the afternoon or 4 in the morning, sprints or long distance...I was swimming everday. Although these years were demanding, competitive, tiring, redundant, exhausting, tough and grueling they also shaped me into a determined, competitive, disciplined, eager, engergized and tough "quasi-athlete". I didn't know a life without exercise or the people you shared it with.

Ten years and then I was 18, the year I left for college carrying with me years of self-assurance and strength, the year I would soon discover muscular legs and broad shoulders were not "sorority/fraternity-friendly" or considered beautiful next to the little, petite southern belle. Exercise changed for me at that point. No longer was it about pushing myself to be the best I could be...it was now pushing myself to the be the best I could look. Gone were the days of becoming stronger, in were the days of becoming smaller...as small as my broad-shouldered, God given tall body could be. Springtime freshmen year came along and a comment from a guy friend, "you've lost a lot of weight, you look really good," in the elevator only strengthened my resolve - I was getting there.

And getting there I did. Through college and into my years afterwards, it was always...the skinnier the better, the smaller the skirt size the better, the more you could see the small muscle in my arm or the collar bone running along under my chin, the better. The exercise was no longer an option, it was routine, boring and unmotivating. It was, in short, demanding, competitive, tiring, redundant, exhausting, tough and grueling but an athlete I was not. A self-confident person I certainly was not. How could I be, constantly in comparison to others...not even knowing why anymore.

Fast forward from the age of 25 to the age of 27. Not that longest of times, but certainly long enough to take a very long look at myself and rethink what this whole "exercise" thing is about. I cringe when I see someone in the gym who looks like a woman in need of a cheeseburger...or a break.

My realization came last fall in Italy on a cycling trip through Tuscany. After each day, 40, 50, 100 miles after the morning espresso, I would think to myself - I never would have been able to do this 2 years ago. I didn't have the strength, I didn't have the determination, and I didn't have the healthy outlook I needed to keep going for miles and miles and hills and hills.

Six days of biking...victory wine!

All roads lead to Italy

100KM day...a congrats from our leaders for finishing

quasi-athletes

I have found that exercise is not there to make us feel worse - but to make us feel better. To feel empowered, enegrized, excited, eager to keep going back, time and again. I smile when I see someone in the gym who's happy, glowing with that feeling of accomplishment - a lot of times that person is me. I go work out when I want to now, I don't do it out of obligation, but because of desire. I find solace in the company I keep with these other quasi-athletes that are in my cycling classes or running along the resevoir in Central Park. We all share the same feeling - the feeling that comes with knowing your body is strong enough to take you places you never thought possible. The things you contemplate, the stress you release, the endorphins you feel - it all comes along with it in one neat little one hour package.

This morning in a new class I took, the instructor encouraged us on by yelling out - "Cycle because you are alive! Cycle because you are healthy! Cycle because you are on this earth and living this life and it's good!"
Now, those are the best reasons to work out I've ever heard...

Good exercise should always end in a moment of "ahhhhh"....

and One More Thing...

In the end, love should always look like this...

Well, Let's Just Get This Over With

Each post I write brings up a million other thoughts, feelings and ideas in my mind. My last post, living for oneself, for the small things in life, caused me to think about one possible opposite of living for oneself which would be living for someone else.

Now, there's certainly a lot of ways you can look at "living for someone else" - it can be negative or positive really, depending on who you are and certainly who the other person is. I had mentioned in my previous post that the idea of living for yourself had come up several times lately. The other night at dinner with a new and fabulous friend, the discussion of dating came up. Asking him if he was dating anyone, he told me he was on a dating "hiatus" in order to spend more time on him, what makes him feel alive and what is important, good and true to him. What an awesome idea! I loved it...and yes, I have often vowed to put myself on a dating "hiatus"...

My hiatus' do not last very long. A 10 months ago after a particularly moving chuch service, the pastor challenged all singles (I'm sure there were about 5 of us) to spend a year not dating, not concentrating on appealing to the opposite sex, not spending more attention to the opposite sex and not looking to make others more happy than yourself. I remember walking out of the service invigorated for I was going to take this challenge head on. I'd be spared a whole year of the roller coaster we refer to as dating - you know...the building excitement of the chase, the culmination of the catch, the few days or weeks of exhiliration and then comes either the boredom or, worse, the disappoinment when your "love" is somewhat found to be unrequited. Ugh. Well, I was moving on - bigger and better! Let's focus on God and me, to heck with the men! I quickly spread the word to frriends letting them know I was officially "off the market."

As some of you may know, this euphoric new mindset lasted about a month, a week or so, until I was, ashamedly, pulled back into the love game. I wouldn't even call it a love game actually, more like a torturous, unending, annoying, horrible, up and down game. So 10 months, 7 first dates, 4 second dates, 3 let's try this agains, 2X 1 hot chef  1 "we're just not a match" and 0 significat relationships later...here I am. I'm a little hesitant and pretty darn reluctant to write all this down, I mean, what does the former statement say about me? What's wrong with me that I can't keep something going, can't make something stick, can't hold someone's interest, can't be someone's match?

I've had friends tell me time and again, nothing's wrong with me...it's all about the timing, finding the right person...you know all the stuff that they are supposed to say. All the stuff you say to them. All the stuff that is supposed to make you feel better, but never really does. Much like I've spent the last few years trying to be someone I'm not and live like someone I wish I could be or look like or act like, I've also spent the last few years trying to the girl that whoever it is I'm dating wants me to be...or at least what I think they want me to be. That's a shocking statement to see written down. Even though I know it's true..it's sad to know that I've sought validation from men for way, way too long. That's why my dating hiatus was a huge, epic fail - I needed a man to validate what I should have already known and believed about myself - that I'm funny, outgoing, adventurous, intelligent, thoughtful, fabulous.

I've found that living in New York City has helped me to really believe I am the girl I know I am...without the validation of another. I'm not sure why, but each day I know I'm becoming stronger and more willing to admit that it's ok...it's simply ok to live for me and just be me. Maybe it is when we stop searching for, looking for, or asking for validation that we actually do find it, within ourselves. And that's when love happens.

Admitedly, I'm a romantic. I believe that there are people out there for each of us that might have the ability to be our "soul mate", I believe in fairytales and happy endings, I believe that the moment you meet someone you can just "know" he's supposed to be there with you, right then. I hope that these things are out there for me. Sometimes I don't feel as though they are but sometimes I hear a song or remember a feeling I once had and then I believe again.

I'm not sure if I should go on another dating hiatus, it might be good for me. I think what might be better for me though, is to know that deep down with or without someone to share my life with... I'm still funny, outgoing, adventurous, intelligent, thoughtful, fabulous.

And I will also always believe that the fairy tale is possible...

It's All About the Small Things...

What does it mean to focus on ourselves? When you hear someone say, "I'm going to focus on me for awhile," what do you think? Or...what if a good friend tells you outside circumstances don't concern her, for she is focusing on improving herself. At the end of the day, I think it's all about finding that happy we all seek.

In the last 24 hours this idea of living for oneself, improving oneself and focusing on the "me" has come up quite a few times, I just couldn't ignore it. Since moving to New York, I've had a lot of time to think about "me" ....this is possibly because I have few friends here so far and therefore find myself wondering the city, listening to music, walking for hours, and thinking about, well, me. Scary, right? Clearly from my first post, self reflection and self awareness are not foreign ideas. And what does all this self reflection and focus lead to? A LOT.
- I need to take Italian classes
- I need to drink less coffee
- I need to drink less WINE
- I need to eat less peanut butter
- I need to read more classical novels
- I need to cook more
- I need to call friends...I need to stop playing phone tag
- I need to take yoga (even though the slowness of it would drive me nuts)
- I need to read the newspaper and understand politics
- I need to budget
- I need to finally buy a better camera (and take photography lessons)
- I need to eat less ice cream

The list could go on and on...and on. And that's where the problem lies. I think instead of pondering all the things we should do when we focus on ourselves...we should think of all things things that are already in our lives that make them what they are. Being grateful for what makes you...YOU.

Admitedly, this is something that I definitely struggle with. I guess when I think of self-improvement, one thing I would want to do is NOT wish I was doing all these things "right" and just embrace the quirks of being me. I do think focusing on yourself can be very powerful because it allows you to figure out what makes you happy...not what you think will make others happy. Say no once in a while to an invitation (so you can stay home and drink wine and eat ice cream), don't worry so much about who you're going to date, be okay with heading to that restaurant alone, explore...explore and dream and find out what gives you life.

I'm a person who finds life in the little things. In a city that is full of "large", I find solace and inspiration in the "small," the details...the fill-ins between the subway rides and the late night milk runs. To me...it's all about the small things in life...

A book, a glass of wine, a dog, a beach...

Memories of a Colorado sunset...

Flowers in a NY Giants "vase"

Flowers in a milk jug vase bought at the vintage store across the street from my apartment

My biggest obsession in the East Village - MUD coffee

Wine!