The Fresh Air Fund Wants YOU!

Thinking back over childhood, many of us have fond memories of our summers. School was out, the pavement was hot and the lemonade (or red Koolaide) was flowing. Some of us went to visit Grandma, some of us went to Disney Land and some lucky ones got to go away to summer camp. Summer experiences are almost what shapes childhood. Meeting new friends, trying new things, and getting to just be a kid for two months out of the year. But not every child is lucky enough to be able to enjoy their childhood summers. For one reason or another, so many children have to miss out on that vital compound of their youth. Which is why I'm always so excited to write about my favorite non-profit organization, Fresh Air Fund.

Fresh Air Fund takes thousands of New York City youth ages 6 to 18 and gives them the chance to try something new every summer. The Fresh Air Fund's special program called Friendly Town allows host families in the city to welcome a child into their homes for a few weeks out of the summer. These host families come in all forms and share the desire to give a child a summer experience they can cherish for a lifetime. If you or someone you know is in the NYC area and would like to bring a child into your home for the summer, please contact Fresh Air Fund at (800) 367-0003 for information!

Fresh Air Fund also recruits camp counselors to help out at their camps in NYC. You can also provide donations, assist them in their NYC office or help out with several events throughout the year. To find out how you might be able to help, go to www.freshairfund.org

A contribution may only take a summer, but the effect on a child's life will last a lifetime.

(©2009 Lotus B.)

Nothing, Nevermind.

I know I can be pretty vague when it comes to blog posts...usually it's because I'm trying to spare some one's (or several people's) feelings... But the question as of late seems to be "Are you going to NYC?"

New York was never a question. Ever since my room mate from hell conjured up the idea of leaving my California life behind and starting anew in the big city...New York has become a part of my salvation. Almost like a safety blanket. When I left CA, I was also running away from D...the man I could never understand...and who could never really understand me. Then New York became the thing that took me from my family and this man I gave up on too fast. I returned to him...but somewhere along the way realized that I had left out of fear. Fear of loosing him, fear of taking on more than I could handle...fear of being broke. I looked around Houston and it hit me like a ton of bricks... "Hell no.." it said, "wrong city, bitch."

So I made my plans of escape. Back to New York...back to my BFF...back to Brooklyn and crazy weather and incredible nights out and snow boots and subways. I had absolutely nothing distracting me as I piled my things onto a truck and moved into my temporary apartment in Houston. All I had to do was wait it out.

Nothing is ever that simple. Between falling back in love with my ex (Valentine- who lives in California), recently loosing my Grams and missing the crap out of my family...suddenly I wondered if New York was the right choice after all. Career-wise it was the smartest move I could pull. But what about my heart? Asking Valentine to come with me seemed like the best thing to do. But what if he doesn't go? As he teeters on the edge of yes or no...I'm stuck in limbo. Do I put New York on hold and soak up family and love...possibly (and finally) having my own little world with someone who really understands me? Or do I stay the nomadic girl I've always seemed to be...shrugging off my feelings and keeping my tires pointed East?

It's because of this dilemma that I say "Meh" when people ask me when or where I'm moving. It's because of this that once again I feel like an old CD that keeps skipping right before the outro. I'm torn between love of self and love of others. Between needing this man in my life and needing to stick to my plan... Either way I'm leaving Houston in 28 days.

(©2009 Lotus B.)

4 Gentlemen & A Lady

It's quite possible, that I am more single now than I have ever been. It feels like there is no one, not even anyone who is just genuinely my friend within a 2,000 mile radius. Ironically...my ex-boyfriend is moving to Houston next week. Oz and I have grown a bit distant but are still friends, D and I have settled into ex-friendship (a hybrid of rebounding with your ex on a platonic level), and someone I've known nearly a decade (which feels like my entire life), whom I never really dated but have always thought the world of is coming to town next week as well. In a sense...I will be a totally single woman surrounded by 4 ex's starting next week. FOUR.

Does that seem fair?

I relayed this fact to my sister over the phone the other day and for a second she wreaked of jealousy. She, who is happily married to my brother (in-law) whom everyone adores, and who adores her to no end. The two of them are in the "process" of attempting procreation and embarking on the next glorious phase of life where you start to truly become an adult for the sake of a new little life. As she envied me, I was envying her in return.

Of course, I'm more than aware that I'm in no position to have what she has. For the most obvious reason, which is that I have absolutely no permanent prospects. Not that I want any, but I can allow my mind to wander on the subject a bit....at least for the purpose of this blog post.

It's not a secret that I'm in the very least NEARING that part of my life. After all I was perfectly prepared to marry D, have his children and start a real life with him. If it weren't for the un-ignorable components of our relationship that were tragically missing, we would probably be planning a wedding right now. I was ready... just not ready to settle and make someone else settle for something that wasn't right. I refuse to commit to someone that I have to squint at in order to see them as perfect and who does the same of me. Smearing all the jagged lines, and pretending a blurry version of each other is good enough. No thank you. I'm not looking for perfection, but I would like perfection's half brother. Distant cousin, perhaps.

So from time to time, and as the "Engaged" announcements continue to fill up my Facebook page, I do feel that pang in the depths of my stomach. It reminds me that I'm at a very exciting place in my life. I'm single. Single in that REALLY single way. Where I am not obligated to anyone or anything but myself. On the other hand, I know I CAN be in a relationship. I'm capable of being with one person, if he's the right one, and making something work and possibly building up to what me and D almost had and beyond what it should have been.

In the mean time, I kind of get to just be me again. Sure, these last few months in Houston will be kind of a bore. But once I get back to New York, I'll have school to look forward to. Setting up the new website with Tia, partying and meeting new people, writing, kissing the air in Brooklyn and whatever else might come my way. I'm looking forward to FINALLY, after a long time of holding my feet in the air...planting some roots that I might want to share with someone one day.

(©2009 Lotus B.)

"When Do You Ever Enjoy Your Life"...he said

I've found that one of the most tiring efforts one can possibly ferret after is the approval of others. Aside from the fact that it's painfully pathetic, it's also virtually impossible to have EVERY ONE'S approval. Every one in their own individual complex lives, with their own stupid idiosyncrasies and imperfections has an ideal about life that is as diverse as a thumbprint. One person's mathematical equation is another's aesthete rhythmic prose.

So more and more, when people begin to paint their approval or disapproval onto my skin I immediately shutter. Like last night when a new acquaintance of mine asked if I wanted to get out with him and have a drink. "Nope" I said, "I have to work tonight and be up early tomorrow." Work, at that moment meant write. I was chasing after a 12000 word project for a publisher in Oregon and working on the details of a site Tia and I hope to have up in the next few months. Being "up early tomorrow" was so I could be at work-work on time. The work-work that pays my bills and will ultimately fund my escape form cowboy central and back to regular society where I belong. My new acquaintance scoffed at my tight-lipped response, "When do you ever enjoy life? I'm flying to NYC this weekend to see if the Yankees win..."

Blank stare.

Side eye.

His assumptions were suddenly suffocating me. The gull of someone who hardly knows me at all to first assume that I don't "enjoy" my life, and secondly assume that what I was doing at the moment wasn't bringing me any pleasure. Not that I orgasm with every sentence, but writing is like breathing for me, like therapy. 12000 words is definitely intimidating, but at that moment I wouldn't had preferred to be anywhere else but in front of my laptop letting my head pour into a Word doc. I wanted to tell him all of this, but realized there was no point. His idea of enjoying his life was simply and at this time in my life, different than my own. He wanted to go out on a Thursday night and get drunk. Doing that would have been pointless for me on at least three separate levels. As for his NYC comment.... part from not being a Yankee's fan (go A's!!) I'd much rather LIVE in New York than visit. But that's my ideal, not his.

I simply replied, that I do in fact enjoy my life and that I hope he has fun in NY. I went back to what I was doing and laughed to myself. True, it's slightly out of my MO to turn down drinks on any night of the week (flashback of nursing a horrible hang over on the subway to work after 30 minutes of sleep). But I'm too far gone, folks. I have a mission and it's in sight now. I don't want to waste a moment on anything that doesn't have to do with writing, or getting the fuck out of Houston.

(©2009 Lotus B.)

Onomatopoeia

Lately I've been heavily contemplating the ideology of love. How much it comes and goes, and takes on so many faces. How it's so complex, but often unfairly simplified.

I wish love were a harder word to say, like "antidisestablishmentarianism" or "onomatopoeia"...instead it's almost easier to say "I love you" than it is to sneeze or fart. And so, people use it so often, and so freely...sometimes forgetting that the confession of love can sometimes and easily be a lie, even if by accident.  

Click HERE to continue...

Confession of an Urban Nomad....

When I was a kid and there wasn't much to smile about, I tended to find relief in my own imagination. I suppose it's what contributed to me wanting to write. If I had a pen and a paper, then I could create my own reality. I could be anyone, and anywhere and whatever I felt was the ultimate dream could be my truth for that moment.

Now, since then, I've learned to curve my imagination. I learned that living in your own head can really end up hurting the reality you have to actually live in. Like seeing the perfect life with someone and later realizing that you actually over looked a few hundred details because those details weren't pretty enough to fit into your ideal.

Right now, with my imagination slightly stuffed into my pocket, I am wondering where all of this is going. I'm thinking about my future and realizing that I'm actually in a pretty awesome position. I have no ties. To anything, anyone or anywhere. I'm totally perceptive to what might happen and totally willing to follow a new path. I think I used to feel imprisoned by freedom and freedom in prison. I was comforted by limited options, because that meant decisions where made for me. But over the last few years, I've slowly come to the conclusion that I'm just not one of those people. I don't need permanence right now, and I don't even really want it. I want to continue getting my life together; school, money all the things your supposed to get together when your in your twenties. But I also want to see where this whole thing is taking me. I want to see the world, and live there and take it in and absorb whatever strangeness I find. As long as there is a voice in the back of my head saying, "Maybe there is something else..." I'm going to allow myself to follow it. I know that sounds kind of movie-of-the week (cue Greatest American Hero theme song, "Believe it or Not"...), but that is a definite truth.

I will, however, say it's nice to have an equally nomadic friend...

Between a Rock and Hard Place

So it's Wednesday and yes, I'm back in Houston. For now. The sun is beating down on me as if it has some kind of vendetta, and again...the silence is killing me. My first day back in NY I walked around Manhattan near 34th street where my old job was. I wanted to smack myself for getting down there so late, too late to go up and say hi to anyone. But I went into the stores and into my old Starbucks. My favorite Batista wasn't there, but it still felt good to ask for my "grande triple soy latte". The noise, the cabby that screamed at me because Atlantic avenue was closed (and apparently this was my fault).

The drunk guys at Toastie's who kept asking to bum one of my American Spirits (yes I smoke occasionally in NY...fuck off), the women in their awesome outfits, the metro-sexual men with gorgeous accents and leather scuffed boots leaning casually against train poles reading books no one has ever heard of. The drop dead gorgeous Black British man sitting across from me on the Q who asked me about the tattoo on my foot then showed me his (boy did he). Then he pulled back his dirty bandanna revealing a head of lustrous brown hair that fell around his shoulders. I would have thrown my vagina at him, if not for his next comment, "I just got done doing my community service..." I didn't hear the rest...I decided not to involve myself with one of Riker Island's newest "graduates".

The trip was fabulous, the shopping divine, but more than anything, I was swimming in my own peace of mind. Waking up with the city at my fingertips, being around millions of people who generally take life in stride. People who don't have to "live for the weekend", people who take pride in taking pride. So it was definitely a vacation in every sense of the word.

Now that I'm back it feels like I've been sucking on a sugar cube for 6 days and now have to eat an onion. Not that it's awful here, but it just made me realize how much of myself is...not here. When I got in on Monday I looked around the house. Pictures had been moved, the couch was scooted closer to the TV. Things that represented D's lifestyle. Minor, I know, but when your walking into a house that is not yours, in a neighborhood that has no personality in a city that you have nothing in common with...little things like that tend to make you grip your arms, rub the back of your neck and submit yourself to tears. I was just thankful to be alone at the moment.

Neither Here Nor There (Sunday's Reflections...

What do you do when you have no idea, anymore, of where you belong? Not just mentally, but physically...geographically. How do you figure that out? Keep searching? Go back to the beginning? Give in?

I know that's an intense idea. A little deep for a Sunday. Or maybe not. This is the day of reflection, no? Everyone does their unwindings on Sunday, so I did a few. I guess when I really think about it, I don't know much about where I belong. The only insight I have is that I know where I don't belong. I don't belong somewhere quiet. I don't belong somewhere apprehensive or passive. I don't belong anywhere that bares more clouds than sun. Take that how you will.

I miss my family. I will admit to that. There has been something pulling at me to go back.

What's Hilarious About City Life

Sure you have an array of museums, theatres, parks and sights to explore. Some people live their whole lives in New York and still haven't seen everything there is to see. Night life is amazing and practically unnecessary to plan. You can literally just get dressed and hop on a train or call a cab and find something to do walking down the street. Life is generally at your fingertips in a city like NY.... and because of that most people don't spend much time at home. Apartments are for quaint dinner parties, sleeping, studying and having sex...which is why SPACE is something treasured and rare... I found this ad on Craigslist and erupted into laughter at the irony:

In case you can't read that it says: "Beautiful UES (upper east side) apartment to share. Large. King-size bed to share with male, 33. Must be willing to sleep on right-side of bed.."

I wouldn't doubt this to be real. And I wouldn't doubt it to get responses either...

June 9th...

I'll be back in the city. I feel like there should be some ceremonial balloon dropping or dove-letting at JFK as I arrive from the gate...

Let it begin....

The Aliens Have Landed

The usually ferosh and fashion forward, Madonna was channelling some outside forces last night at the Met Gala....Women's Wear Daily was Twittering away about the goings on, so I had to check out the pics for myself this morning. All hail to Louis Vuitton, but seriously....as D would put it... she looks like she wore all her Christmas gifts on the same day...

Valentine's Day....

D and I have missed out on spending some holidays with each other because of our year long hiatus, but the one holiday we never seem to miss is V-Day. This time around with all the new house expenses and me not working yet, I wasn't expecting for Valentine's Day to be over the top. I knew D was planning to take me out somewhere that involved "tickets" so I figured it was either to see Mike Epps perform, or to see the Tyler Perry play. Either would have been fine, although neither was quite my style. They were the only things I heard about on the radio and D dropped what I took as a hint as he waved his hand over toward the impulse-buy rack at the check out line in Target.

"Look, is that Tyler Perry?" He said pointing to the newest issue of Essence.

When we got home from Target (and multiple other stores), and I was putting away groceries I heard D sigh loudly. He was sitting on our blood-red couch tapping away at his Mac Book.

"Well I guess if I want you to be able to dress properly, I should tell you where we're going tonight." My eyes lit up.

"Where???" He waved his hand for me to come there and as I walked up behind him he pointed to his laptop screen. I squinted and bent down to see what it was and there was not the crackish jokster, Mr. Epps; nor the mildly spiritual morals of Tyler Perry but the very classically perfect ballet. D was taking me to see Swan Lake. Again, I was alit.

D, the man's man that he is, sat with me through 4 acts of women (and men) in tights hopping around on stage to classical music and actually seemed to take it in. It was refreshing to see that D could be so open minded. Almost as refreshing as knowing that Houston offered more culture than 200 variations of barbaque. It rained, and the streets were wet when we came outside. I found myself silently challenging Houston to make me like it as I looked around at the downtown scene. There weren't thousands of people crowding the streets, bussling around against the curtain of noise and taxi cabs like in New York. But there was another kind of charm. The tall buidlings that didn't come close to shutting out a very big sky, the sculptures that stood outside the theatre and a low rumble of thunder. D had no idea that he had given me exactly what I needed for Valentine's Day.

Un-Mobile

I am at home. Stuck. D took the car for his doctor's appointment. I am here, alone, with nothing to do and no car to get anywhere. No train to take. Just miles and miles of identical houses as far as the eye can see.

Today....I hate Houston.

Goodbye Lover, Goodbye New York

D was cold. Freezing in fact as we stood at the bus stop waiting for the B46. It was Thursday, move day and count down to out flight out. We had a list of things to do; pick up the van, drop the boxes off at the Post Office, drop the bed and dresser at Etienne's and the rest at Salvation Army. In the moment of silence, I took a second to look around. Atlantic ave, where I got my first bunch of groceries with the room mate from hell. Brooklyn was looking a lot like it did when I first met her, cold, windy but deceivingly sunny. I secretly wished the day would drift by slowly, as D prayed for a heat-wave.

Saying goodbye to New York was like saying goodbye to a forbidden lover...it was quiet and very private. I took in the buildings and the streets and even the smells I used to despise. I even closed my eyes and breathed in the same winter winds that once stung my nostrils. It was like a friendly hug that I wished could last longer.

Friday, Tia and her boyfriend Anthony came out with D and I. We started our night at Black Betty's in Williamsburg, where I proudly stuck to my vegetarian resolution and ordered the shrimp and cous cous. As we all sat drinking and laughing I took mental pictures of the four of us, saying goodbyes and hellos and generally making memories I'd sit back and recall in days to come.

Later that night, something I never expected happened. Tia and I had a moment of sentimental indulgence. We cried and said the girly things girls say when they're sad to see a friend go. She told me the things I needed to hear, the things only a friend like Tia could say knowing that I needed to hear them. I'll be forever grateful to her for telling me what she did, and it sealed the friendship for me; she will always be in my life.

The next morning, D and I woke up and shuffled around trying to wrap up the things we'd left for the last moment. I kept reminding him that we were almost there. Almost to the post office (long story), almost to the airport, almost through security, almost set to board. I closed my eyes for a second before the plane took off, then I did what Tia said I should do. I left everything unresolved, everything lingering on the air strip just as gravity left us. I looked over at D, who was now fast asleep and leaning on my shoulder, and everything made sense.

I hate to be sentimental but the truth of it is, I'll miss the hell out of New York. The times we had, the amazing summer and the friendships that will never be duplicated. I know less and less thoughts of the city will enter my mind, and slowly I'll unmemorize the entire MTA subway map and forget the names of the streets that surround Carroll and Eastern Parkway. I also know I left at the right time.

They say if you can make it in New York, you can make it anywhere. I'm ready to test that theory out on the next phase in my life. Houston, home ownership, and being D's better half.

And I'll always have New York.

LMAO @ Sacramento!!!

Sorry sis, but it's no secret that I despise Sacramento...the black hole of California. And now the New York Post gave me a bit of a chuckle regarding one of Sac's own.

20 year old, Natalie Lenhart of Sacramento obviously forgot that NYC is the land of cash. Cold hard cash money. Stepping into a cab without enough cash to pay is as bad as taping your wallet to the back of your head and walking through Penn Station blind-folded at 2AM. The cabby told little Natalie to fork over her iPod nano as payment for the $50 ride. She handed over a $140 iPod crying after a NYPD officer forced her to do it. And all because she didn't stop at the ATM.

Hilarious.

TGI January

Well, it's Friday which marks the end of another work week. Another weekend to look forward to and in 12 days D will be here in New York to take me home.

Time has been passing so quickly. Before I know it, it's 5pm and I'm leaving work and headed home on the train. The train ride is short and quiet. 6pm turns into midnight and my day starts over again. Maybe it's just winter, everything is shorter in winter.


Usually I would hate days rushing by so quickly. Weekends passing in a blur, evenings slipping away from me. But now, with so much to look forward to I'm glad that time is moving so quickly. I know it has something to do with being so balanced on this decision. I am happy to go but sad to leave. I have so much I'm going to be starting in Houston, but I'm leaving a city that I love. New York feels like a summer romance. Also comparable to a pre-season sale. It doesn't last very long, but it has long lasting effects.

Plane Crashes in Hudson River....

Ok...

WTF....

I'm already majorly scared of flying and now this?

Today a US Airlines flight headed to North Carolina encountered some stray birds and apparently couldn't take the heat. It had to make an emergency landing in the middle of the Hudson River and everyone was evacuated safely. No deaths or serious injuries, I imagine aside from the FREEZING COLD temps today (it snowed, 18 degrees...).

I would be so messed up in the head over that...at least I'd have MILLIONS OF DOLLARS to help me get through it.

They are SO sued.

Read the official Press Release here

For Packing Up It Sure Feels Like Unloading...

So I was getting started on the undesirable task of packing up my shit last night when I paused for a moment to read through one of my old journals. It was the 96-98 journal and I was 11-13 years old. It was the journal written during my parents divorce and my family's demise. A lot went down. Surprisingly, the topic I wrote about most was boys.

Which ones I liked, who had asked me out, who called me, who left notes in my locker. I started to wonder if I was just a healthy young teenager back then or something of a little whore in the making. I decided against the latter. I was a cutie and often the token black girl, so of course I was the flavor. Duh.

Aside from reminiscing about the times when my facebook friends were still my "face-to-face" friends, I started to realize something...

I'm MOVING!!!

WTF.

Leaving On A Jet Plane

So 18 more days left in New York and here I am again at the brink of a new adventure. My critics and friends have all put in their share of advice. From "why are you leaving"' to "good luck" and "congrats". I even got a "your an idiot" which I thought was a little rude but still hilarious. My answer to it all is, if I can leave California I can definitely leave New York.

For that matter, I can say that I made it. I'm not running away, I didn't fail. I'm not lost or scared. I tackled New York like a trooper and I'm proud of myself. Not many people are strong enough to do what I did. I know some people think I came here out of weakness. All I can say to that is, that the secrets between my mind and my eyes are probably a lot more than most people in my life could ever handle. So I don't mind if they think I left out of weakness. I know the truth. Besides, they say if you can make it here...

I have a lot to look forward to, and a lot to reflect on. I'm more excited about whats ahead of me than anything I'm leaving behind. I figure, as long as that's true in life your headed in the right direction.

Things to Buy: 1) Camera

Cause if I had one, I could have taken my own pictures on New Years and that way I wouldn't have to wait till Mon got back from PA to see them..lol. Anyway, my New Years went something like this:

^The drunkness was kicking in close to count down

^D knows I make this face when other men try to touch me....lol

^Bartender and (special treat) my growing FRO.