Four Years In

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Last week, when I was blogging about my new favorite hat, Devin read the title and asked if I was posting pictures of all my hats. ‘No’, I gasped, ‘but I will!’ because, as silly as it is, I think blogging about my love of hats would be an afternoon well-spent. And the fact that it occurred to Devin before me was a total ‘he gets me!’ moment.

Devin and I have been a couple for four years now, and I’ve been thinking about how to describe it–I mean, I am in Uncharted Territory here–I didn’t grow up around young couples and all the books and movies I consumed were about falling in love, not staying in it. In fact, most of the romantic comedies seemed to portray staying in love as unbearably boring if not impossible. Here’s what I learned about relationships from Hollywood: when you’re young, you’re beautiful and passionate and you have a beautiful wedding and lots of cool friends; fast-forward and you’re either divorced because you both cheated on each other or you’re this old couple wearing sweatpants who’s only in the movie to provide comedic relief by nagging each other and rolling your eyes. Um yeah, thanks but no thanks.

I thought love was this feeling that faded with time and that some people chose to stay together despite their diminished feelings, which is kind of…romantic in a way, but I thought probably not for me because I wanted my life to be fun, and I didn’t think wearing sweater sets and reminiscing about how much fun we used to have would do it for me.

These days I’m daydreaming of writing a screenplay for a new kind of romantic comedy. It would be called Four Years In and its cheesy tagline would be, ‘It gets AWESOME’.

unplanned matching

The movie would be about how much fun it is to make up songs while you ride bikes and cook dinner while you dance in the kitchen. It would be about going to weddings together and not feeling nervous when people ask you when it’ll be ‘your turn’ because you know you both want to spend the rest of your lives together. It would be about all the inside jokes you accumulate over the years and the traditions you get to create; about knowing each other’s families and making up games to play in the pool with your younger cousins; about having embarrassing moments; and helping each other get through hard times. It would be about supporting one another in all your dreams and how much more fun you can have when you know how to avoid annoying the crap out of each other!

I’d probably hire another screenwriter to help me infuse that with some plot points or something. ; ) But honestly, I think it would be really great to have a rom-com in sharp contrast to all the patriarchal, capitalist, Men-Are-From-Mars-Women-Are-From-Venus, Committed-Relationships-Are-Boring movies about love that already exist.

My movie would be totally feminist and progressive! Only could it still have product placement? I really, really love product placement.

Here’s to four more!
kristy

Four Years In

Every Day is Hat-urday, Pt. I

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It’s technically springtime, but New York is still COLD. And I’m afraid it might be all my fault.

What have I done???

See, when Devin gave me the wool hat of my dreams for my birthday, the first thing I did was wish for a long winter, so I’d get lots of chances to wear it this year.

Since my birthday, it’s been consistently near-freezing, and I have worn it every day. I still love love love it, but I’m thinking we could both use a break until about mid-October with the occasional September reunion. So this weekend, I sent Mother Nature another memo.

MEMO

TO: Ms. Mother Nature
DATE: 24 March 2013
SUBJECT: Springtime

Dear Mama Na’,

Thanks so much for doing me a solid and letting me break in my new favorite hat. It’s been really nice!

However, my neighbors and friends and all ten of my toes are ready to thaw. Mr. Softee is begging for business. Baby birds are shivering while they chirp.

Please feel free to resume regularly-scheduled programming.

Your friend,
kristy

Every Day is Hat-urday, Pt. I

The time I turned twenty-four

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I turned 24 in February, but I have no pictures to prove it and I got writer’s block because I didn’t have anything interesting to say about it. But I can’t not write about my birthday—the only holiday all about my life—on the only blog all about my life. So here we are almost a month later, and uh, I guess I have some thoughts about my age?

The best part was reading and hearing everyone’s birthday wishes to me, which all went kind of like this:

Dear Kristy,

Happy Birthday! I am so proud of you! Look at all the things you have accomplished since last year!

I love you!
Your friend/mom/cousin/friend/partner/co-worker/aunt

And they are all 100% correct to point out that I’ve accomplished a lot since my 23rd birthday. Because I was a hot mess last year.

Last year, I had my birthday dinner at Chipotle because I was too overwhelmed by New York to find a restaurant. And I couldn’t even find the Chipotle because I didn’t understand that Broadway and West Broadway are two totally different (stupidly named) streets. After dinner, I dragged Anda to find a dress with me and then cried outside Bloomingdale’s because “all those dresses are so ugly! I can’t even afford them, but I just don’t understand why there are no good dresses anywheeeeeere” (sorry, A).

A few days later I had a nice birthday party thanks to my friends, in our tiny apartment filled with flowers. And a year later, somehow I ended up 24 with a CSA share and a membership to the YMCA. I knew how I wanted to celebrate my birthday and what I wanted to wear, but it didn’t hit me until I was having dinner. I looked around and saw almost all the friends who were at my 23rd party (plus two of my new roommates). And I realized most of them had been at other birthday parties of mine!

Marissa at my 10th birthday sleepover in Texas. Jess at a surprise party for my 18th at Spiral Diner.  Anda threw me the best party on the 19 bus for my 19th. Tasha showed up to my 23rd Chipotle birthday meltdown with a pink rhinestone piggy bank, and here she was at my 24th with a stack of party hats and a pink tinsel tiara for me. On and on around the table.

Growing up, I always imagined my ‘adult life’ like this: living in a city, full-time job, regular-status at a coffee shop. But I didn’t know I’d get to keep my friends.

I’ve known most of them since I was 18 or younger. That’s 6 years or more of shared history! In multiple cities. (Woah.)

So, if you’re reading this, whether we were together in real life or through technology/our hearts/whatever, I hope you know that you’re my favorite birthday present. The gift that keeps on giving. The present that always fits just right, etc. etc. I love you!

The time I turned twenty-four

Little Things

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Last weekend Devin and I went to visit some of his family in Philadelphia. Have I mentioned that Devin’s family happens to be made up of the most thoughtful people in the contiguous 48?  Every time I move into a new house or apartment, the first thing I get in the mail is a housewarming gift from Devin’s mom! (When I moved into my first New York apartment, I was scared about having too much stuff, so she sent me a care package specifically designed for living in small spaces–three cookies and a pair of scissors). In Philadelphia, Devin’s aunt and uncle always go out of their way to shuttle us around their fair city and cook five-star vegetarian meals, which we all eat together in their candlelit dining room. They are the best, best hosts.

Like in my family, it seems that everyone learned all they know from their matriarch, Grandma Pat. When Devin and I arrived last Friday, she had old photos waiting for me because she knows I love vintage dresses and hats. And she had a birthday gift wrapped and ready for me to open, a full two weeks before my actual birthday! With the present, she included three beautiful vintage handkerchiefs and a poem that is now one of my favorites. She copied it down years ago and isn’t sure who the original author was. I tried to find out and think it might be a womyn named Grace Haines, but I’m not positive. If I learn more about its source and history, I’ll update the post; but for now, here it is. Thanks again, Grandma Pat.

Little Things

Little Things

Oh, it’s just the little homely things,
The unobstrusive, friendly things,
The “won’t-you-let-me-help-you” things,
That make our pathway light.

And it’s just the jolly, joking things,
The “never-mind-the-trouble” things,
The “laugh-with-me-it’s-funny” things,
That make the world seem bright.

For all the countless famous things,
The wondrous record-breaking things,
Those “never-can-be-equalled” things,
That all the papers cite

Are not the little human things,
The “every-day-encountered” things,
The “just-because-I-love-you” things,
That make us happy quite.

So here’s to all the little things,
The “done-and-then-forgotten” things,
Those “oh-it’s-simply-nothing” things,
That make life worth the fight.

Little Things

Snow Daze

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Hi, how are you? What did you do this weekend? Me? Oh, I just survived my first blizzard.

(It wasn’t actually very dramatic.) Devin and I went out for a walk on Friday night in the middle of it. Because my neighborhood has many, many street lamps, we could see the snowflakes falling very clearly. It felt like being in a snow globe or a cartoon or a child’s painting of a snowy night. We walked around for a while and attempted to have a snowball fight, but my lack of experience turned it into a lesson instead. I made considerable progress, though, so next time it snows, watch out.

Walking back to my apartment, we encountered a TV crew on my block! I asked the cameraperson if they were filming the snow (‘Isn’t everyone?’, he replied) and why they had chosen my little corner of Brooklyn. It turns out the guy who drives the TV truck is a regular at a bar near my street, and it’s a good idea to film near a place that will let the crew use the bathroom. Kind of like I sometimes plan my commute to pass a Starbucks for the free bathrooms.

TV People: They’re Just Like Us.

The next day I asked Devin to take some commemorative pictures.

Pretending I'm too cool for the camera.
Pretending I’m too cool for the camera.
Much snow!
Much snow!
A concrete court transformed!
Subtract the chain-link and buildings, and this could be a remote tundra.

Shoutout to all the hardworking people who kept the sidewalks and subway entrances near me safe, and thereby helped make my first snowstorm experience a success. I’m very grateful.

 

 

 

Snow Daze

Trader Harry*

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Tonight I went to Trader Joe’s (boy, do I wish this were a sponsored post. It’s not).

First, I made an enemy of the girl with fuchsia lipstick because I stopped in my tracks to compliment her. She gave me such a LOOK that I didn’t even get to tell her that the reason I stopped is that her lipstick looked awesome, and that outfit was on-point, and it takes a very special person to pull off fuchsia. Fuchsia Girl, if you are reading, please know I didn’t mean to block your access to the hummus! I would never do that!

I was disappointed because the sample food was deep-dish pepperoni pizza. I remembered that at my Trader Joe’s in Portland, the employees would always have vegan/vegetarian snacks on-hand whenever they served meat samples. But this is New York, and in New York, you can give out any kind of sample and people will eat it. So probably these Traders don’t even know how many people they alienated with that pepperoni. Also, they almost certainly don’t care. But it’s okay because we’re all too busy becoming what dreams are made of to get hung up on these things, right?

At this Trader Joe’s you have to get in a line that loops around the store, next to a Trader holding an “END OF LINE” flag. Then, you wait to get sorted into three lanes to be further directed to one of the thirty cash registers. The three lanes each have a flag above them: one is a bunch of grapes, one is a wedge of cheese, and one is a steak. I don’t really like waiting in line, especially because you always get jostled by people who are still shopping, and I get worried that they are going to try to cut after they grab that tub of yogurt (so far nobody has cut in front of me, so let’s all have faith in humanity). But when I get to the front I get excited about being sorted, and I pretend the classification has some deeper meaning.

If I get grapes, I try—but fail—to remember when they are in season and send happy vibes to the United Farm Workers, Dolores Huerta, and César Chavez.

If I get cheese, I smile because it reminds me of how much I love Devin and cheesehead hats.

If I get steak, I remember how medium-rare steak was my favorite food when I was ten and how cool it is that my mom didn’t make me order from the kids’ menu if I didn’t feel like it.

Tonight I got steak and was sent to register 26.

At register 26 I impressed Trader Harry* with my most prized possession:

This NPR tote bag.
This NPR tote bag.

Harry loves NPR, like me, but his favorite show is ‘The Takeaway’, which is one of the few shows I have never heard. He scoffs at ‘Morning Edition’ and ‘All Things Considered’ because ‘they just don’t compare’.

Harry has a girlfriend who tap-dances, and when he talks about her, his face lights up.

Harry makes sure you get entered in the raffle for free groceries if you bring your own bag.

Harry guesses I always buy more groceries than I can comfortably carry because of a number of things: ‘the quality of the food, the prices––you know you’re getting a good deal, so it’s worth the sacrifice’.

Harry knows that the official closing time of his store is 10 PM. But he let me in on a little secret, and if you read all of this, you deserve to know it, too:

If you get there at 9:55, you can take your time and shop in peace!

Reporting live from a city where you need a strategy to buy groceries,
kristy

*Not his real name.

Trader Harry*

Mi Sobrina Cosmopolita

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Victoria, diciembre 2012.
Victoria, diciembre 2012.

Hoy les presento un vídeo de mi sobrina Victoria. Dura quince segundos, pero como a mi siempre me da flojera ver vídeos, se los explico para que ustedes decidan si lo quieren ver o no. Tomé el vídeo en diciembre cuando estábamos juntas muchas de las mujeres de la familia. En el vídeo, Victoria trae un llavero de la Torre Eiffel, y Carol le pregunta,’ ¿Dónde está Paris?’ esperando que la niña apunte al llavero. Pero en vez de enseñarnos la Torre Eiffel, mi sobrina lista nos enseña a hablar francés! Pronuncia ‘Paris’ con un acento perfecto (‘Paguí’). Llevo más de un mes viendo este vídeo todos los días. Me encanta darme cuenta que aun siendo tan pequeña, Victoria entiende tanto. No cabe duda que lo que tiene de petite, lo tiene de culta e inteligente.

Here’s a cute video of my niece Victoria. It’s only fifteen seconds long, but since I hate watching videos, I’ll re-cap it for you. I filmed it in December when a bunch of the wimyn in the family were together, fawning over Veev. In the video, Victoria is holding a  keychain in the shape of the Eiffel Tower. Carol asks, ‘Where’s Paris?’ in hopes that the baby will point at the keychain. But instead of showing us the Eiffel Tower, my smart niece gives us a lesson in pronunciation. She says ‘Paris’ in perfect French! I’ve been watching this video every day for over a month. I am perpetually astounded to see that even though Victoria’s a baby, she understands so much. I can’t wait to see what else she’ll teach us.

Mi Sobrina Cosmopolita

Sixty-second Book Review: ‘The Watch’

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One of my New Year’s resolutions this year was to keep better track of what I read. Another was to blog more often. Combining the two, I decided to write short reviews of books as I read them. This is my first one. I’d love to hear what books you’ve been reading, especially if you’ve read anything you’d like to recommend!

The Watch by Joydeep Roy-Bhattacharya
Joydeep Roy-Bhattacharya’s The Watch opens with a teenage girl who trespasses onto a military base in contemporary war-torn Afghanistan to bury her brother. The story of her brother’s death and her trespass are recounted by multiple voices, including many from the American military personnel and an Afghani interpreter.

Though the novel borrows it central premise from Antigone, it is about more than the problem of institutional forces infringing on personal rights. The most moving moment is when the American soldiers misunderstand the young girl’s peace offering—a slaughtered lamb—as a threat of violence. The cultural chasm and the losses everyone in the story has weathered leave them unable to comprehend each other, despite the best efforts of the interpreter.

I was intrigued by The Watch because I didn’t get the feeling that its setting was picked as a money-making gimmick. After reading it, I stand by that. It’s a thoughtful novel that grapples with the psychology of war and what it means that the people fighting our wars are very young men, prohibited from questioning the orders they receive and ill-equipped to do so. That said, I didn’t enjoy the book. It would have benefitted from fewer voices and more character development, especially because many of the soldiers’ stories were very similar. But my biggest problem with The Watch was the dialogue. I mean, have you recently encountered nineteen year-old American boys who say things like  ‘I’ve no money in the bank’ or who say ‘Sarn’t’ instead of ‘Sergeant’? The strange diction made the characters seem inauthentic. Trying to imagine them speaking like this distracted me from the story. In the end, all I could imagine was that Roy-Bhattacharya didn’t spend much time talking to the young men on the front lines of the war he wrote about.

Sixty-second Book Review: ‘The Watch’

Statistics

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I first spotted Devin in the spring of my first year of college when I walked into the dining hall. He was dancing with a fork in hand, and I remember thinking to myself, ‘Who is that cute boy? And how have I not seen him before?’ We ended up meeting that night after I unwittingly bought a double-bacon cheeseburger for a classmate who asked to borrow ‘board points’, a.k.a. Cafeteria Money. This kid knew Devin, who had just gotten back from Russia (that’s why I’d never seen him), and he invited Devin to sit at our table.

And you know, at first I was kind of weirded out that my cafeteria money, a strictly vegetarian currency, had been used to buy meat; but in retrospect, I’d say it was money well spent. Sometimes I tell Devin that he is worth thousands of dead cows and pigs!

He does not find that very romantic.

The other day we were discussing the merits of huge universities (what it would have been like to take lecture classes or go to football games and frat parties or drive around a campus); and I remembered all this. I looked at Devin and said solemnly, ‘You know, if we’d gone to a huge school, I might have walked into the dining hall and seen the boy dancing with a fork for the first AND ONLY time’.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘although, there would have been a lot of boys dancing with forks, statistically speaking’.

Which is kind of a fair point—or an inappropriate inference, depending on which nerd you ask. However, I have it on good authority that there is only one Devin Last Name-Last Name, and I’m glad we went to a school small enough for us to see each other all of the time.

Statistics

2012 in Review

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January

2012, y’all!
I rang in the new year in Chihuahua, which is possibly the only city where pines and palm trees grow side by side.
My niece and I got acquainted.

February

In February, I got to go to a Harlem Globetrotters game thanks to my cousin Josh. SO. MUCH. FUN!
This was the “stroller parking” at the Globetrotters game. SO. MANY. BABIES!
I finally convinced Devin to come with me to a yoga class. He liked it!

March

My birthday falls on February 28, which was a Tuesday, so I started March with a birthday party. I had so much fun, and our tiny apartment was filled with friends, food, and flowers. Thanks for coming, friends!
I started taking advantage of cool events in New York, like a free screening of the premiere episode of Mad Men season 5 held at this cool theater.
Also in March, Devin and I met up at Grand Central to attend a fancy function sponsored by our alma mater. Thanks, college!

April

The little apartment I had with my friends kept getting cuter!
I loved Spring in New York. Tasha and I took the East River Ferry and got to see the Williamsburg Bridge up close. To me, she looks like a cousin of the Eiffel Tower.
Also in April I got to visit a publishing house and the NPR New York headquarters. I even got free books and free tote bags!


May

Nolan and Anakaren got married!
I got to revisit Portland for the first time since moving away.
It was so fun to see Melissa.


June

Roommate breakfast. Marika’s plate is empty because she is gluten-free…and she got so excited about her gluten-free donut that she ate it before I could take this shot.
I discovered the joys of Central Park by spending time there and reading this incredible book, which helped me understand the history of New York City and its iconic park.
Issy came to visit, and we had adventures.

July

In July, I got to go to Portland (again!), this time with my mom. We stayed in a beautiful house decorated by a former art teacher.
After a week of seeing PBR advertised everywhere, my mom decided to try it.
Bonus: Devin happened to be in Portland, too! Unfortunately, we weren’t terribly photogenic in July…

August

In August, I swam almost every day at the free pool in my neighborhood.
Devin finally returned to the East Coast, and we got to spend a few days in Philadelphia with his mom and grandmother!
Oh, and did I mention we got to see Ira Glass live and from the third row? Must’ve slipped my mind… ; )

September

Devin’s birthday!
I discovered a beautiful bookstore.
My friends from the restaurant where I worked gave me the nicest farewell.

October

In mid-October, Hurricane Sandy seemed like no big deal. One of our friends even carved a “Franken-storm” pumpkin.
After Sandy, I spent a lot of time feeling sad, anxious, and frustrated about global warming; so it was nice to see that at least the storm left beautiful leaf piles.
And for Halloween, Devin and I dressed up like city mouse, country mouse!

November

I felt like a certified adult at my job, which might be an apt description, actually.
Devin and I biked up a mountain in Connecticut.
I got the sweetest card from someone saying she liked my blog! It was possibly my proudest moment of 2012, especially because last year I wrote a thank-you note and sent a little gift to a blogger I admire. Full-circle moment, y’all.

December

This picture of my family playing Scattergories perfectly sums up Christmas for me. Have I mentioned I love love love love my family? …I know, but can I say it again?
Sightseeing with Vanessa and Josh was the perfect way to start the holiday season!
I decorated a little tree and wrapped presents in Park Slope, where I lived in an apartment with a fireplace!

My favorite posts of the year:
Funny thoughts on feminism
Devin’s first milkshake review
Homes of Portland
Borders


I hereby declare 2012, also known as My Year of Instagram, over for time and all eternity!

Gallery