Thursday, July 29, 2010

Why blogging is like working out, and the big MOVE., I've decided blogging is just like jogging (didn't you know I was lyrically gifted?). Easy to continue when you're in the habit, but oh so hard to go back to once you stop for a while.

During my lifetime (albeit a brief one as I still believe I'm young as hell) I've spent 75% of my life being very diligent about exercise- 5x per week or more, depending on what it is. But during the few times when I have lapsed...I lapse alllll the way. Like, feel embarassed to go back to the gym because people will be like "I ain't seen HER fat butt in her in WEEKS" or to run because I'll just be soooo out of shape after day after day of sloth-dom. So yah, I guess I haven't blogged since July 3rd because life got crazy and the blog got the shaft. What can I say? I put my puppy's needs and my work before anything pertaining to me, individually. I wish I could say I wasn't one of those crackberry tappin, 60 hour week workin Manhattanites but I am. At least I plan parties and not stock portfolios, though right?

So anyway, I'm a little rusty but ready to discuss a seismic shift that is about to occur in my life. I, Amanda Rose leaving Hells Kitchen. After 4 years and 2 months, I am officially living the first "hood" that I truly called home during my 9 years in NYC. Living at Columbia was like being under a microscope where everyone kind of knew you but definitely noticed when you looked fatter, or had pimples, or that you were wearing a dress from Target. Living in Soho...well, it was a lovely apartment but I was just so messed up in the head during that period of my life (out til 6am, spending allll my money on clothing to impress my club friends...and other things I won't mention on this blog) that I never felt comfortable there. Then the 6 months on 128th and Madison with my sister. It was misery. Nuff said.

But then, one day in 2006 (when my sis up and ditched me for a man...ok, he's now her husband and baby daddy so I'm over it) I desperately hunted for someplace I could afford and finally ended up on 52nd street. Sure it was a walk up. Sure it wasn't renovated. Sure I couldn't REALLY afford it, but it was home! As I grew up, the place grew with me. Nice queen size bed with storage. Beautiful butter lemon yellow couch. Real big girl wine glasses. And then Lala! I went from a wild and crazy 22 year old party girl with no money, bags under her eyes, and way too little confidence to a wise-beyond-my-years 26 year old lady with a puppy, a workout regime, a savings account AND a Roth IRA, and good enough credit to get a 1BR on 15th Street free and clear.

I'm excited...I mean, I am literally 10 blocks from one work and 2 blocks from the other. Close enough to walk to anything I could possibly desire and saving some $$ to boot. And of course, I'm excited (if a little nervous) to move in with the boyfriend, but I honestly think we are ready. And if we're not I'm the ONLY one on the lease sista-friend (I know you are reading this Mr. Boyfriend so you best behave).

Then on the other hand...I'm feeling a little blue. I love my hood! I love my farmer's market. I love my organic grocery store. But most of all... I LOVE my dog run! I love my dog run dogs! I love my dog run people! They are the closest thing to true neighbors I've ever had in NYC and they have become dear, dear friends. I don't know everything about them or their pasts, but that doesn't matter. Good, inviting, interesting, creative, honest, fun, silly people who love dogs and good gossip. I'm sure there are great dog owners in Chelsea too, but I KNOW they won't compare to the Dewitt Clinton crew. So the last weekend of August, I'm going to cry as I move my bed into the truck. And it's only because I'm gonna miss my dog run. Every once in a while I'll drag Lala up here in a cab to visit. She'll miss her friends too, I'm sure.