Life Unexpected

Life has taken an unexpected turn. My mom has cancer. As I write these words I cannot process them. For the last month I have been walking around in a daze, so utterly mystified at the fact that cancer actually caught my mother. My mother doesn't get cancer. Other people's mom's get cancer, but my mom doesn't. It's a plain and simple fact. However facts that I knew before have become fiction and ethos that I subscribed to previously have been turned upside down. Let's face it, I was living in a fantasy world.

The fact that our parents are not invincible is an impossible lesson to learn, at least for me. I have been lucky enough in my life to have had 26 years of ill-free parents. But I was also expecting to live another 26 years before either of my parents had any health problems. I didn't think this was such a ridiculous life plan. And now as I sit here I hear my mother's voice in my head saying, "You can't plan life. Life just happens." Oh what a wise lady she is.

And not only is she a wise lady, but she is a brave lady. She does not want pity or sadness from her family and friends. She does not want people to worry about her or change their lives for her. She does not feel sorry for herself or hate the world. Instead, she counts herself lucky. She feels blessed that they found her cancer when they did. She says she's so fortunate to see how many people in her life love her and care so deeply for her. She embraces this turn that life has handed her and refuses to let it break her spirit. My mother is incredible.

I was home for two weeks helping take care of my mom after a surgery she had. I wanted to stay through Memorial Day weekend to get some extra time in, but my mom refused to let me stay. She insisted that I get back to New York and get on with my life. She starts Chemo at the end of June and when I told her I wanted to come home once a month to see her she said, "Oh Moni, don't be silly. Once every couple of months will be just fine. You need to continue your life. This is just an inconvenience, a bump in the road. I'm going to be fine." It was in that moment that I realized a parents job is never done. Here my mom is, protecting me and assuring me that she will be OK. I thought back on the few weeks leading up to the time before I went home and suddenly found myself smiling. My mom had called me every day to see how I was doing since she, my dad and brother told me over the phone that she had cancer. She called to check up on me.

I then remembered a few nights before when my mom was still in the hospital and my dad, brother and I stood in front of the open refrigerator at home wondering what to eat for dinner. We found a mysterious tupperware that had delicious turkey legs with a tasty tomato stew. My dad and brother figured a friend of the family's must have dropped off dinner, but to me the stew had a familiar taste. It tasted like something my mom would make. I told my brother and dad that I suspected some time in the previous week my mom had broken out the crock-pot and cooked something for us to have for dinner while she was in the hospital. She probably froze it and pulled it out right before she went in for surgery. We picked up the phone, called my mom and asked her about the tupperware meal in question. "Oh, that's just something I threw together last week so you guys would have some dinner." My dad looked at me with a tear in his eye and smiled. Then we heard my mom from the speakerphone, "I made it in the crock-pot." Suddenly, the three of us were laughing in the kitchen. Again, my mother's voice filled the room, "I froze it last week and pulled it out before surgery." My dad, brother and I looked at each other and smiled. As silly as it sounds, I felt a special connection with my mom at that moment. I know her so well that I pinpointed exactly what she had done for us. I stood in the kitchen and tears filled my eyes. My mom is absolutely an inspiration. Not even major surgery can stop her from putting her family first.

Now that I'm back in NYC I call my mom every morning and every night just to check in and see how she is doing. But some how in my mom's magical way we spend just a second talking about her and how she is doing, but we end up focusing on me and how I'm doing.

So how am I doing? I'm doing my best. Though I find myself lost in thought often, thinking about my mom and life in general, I'm doing the best I can to honor my mom's request to live my life back in NYC. Though I spent the majority of my childhood and young adult life fighting tooth and nail against advice my mom had given me or requests my mom had made of me, this go around I think I'll listen. Because not only is she my mom who does know best....she's the most incredible woman I've ever met and she may just know a thing or two about life.

Goodbye

It's been a while everyone...

Almost two weeks ago, Gourmet magazine folded. The news was shocking.

I had been home in Atlanta for the weekend for the UGA vs. LSU game (which was hideous by the way.) My flight back to NYC was early Monday morning. I completely passed out for the entire flight. As the plane made it's landing at LaGuardia airport, I reached for my phone and turned it on, expecting no messages as it was still early.

There was one message from my roommate: "Gourmet folded."

I gasped. There had been talk since January of this year that the magazine might fold, but it's the publishing world. Rumors fly like wild fire, and so many times those rumors bare no truth.

My roommate and I met when I worked at Gourmet. It was an incredible first job. As I processed the news, my memory flashed to the two years of my life that I spent at Gourmet.

A lump in my throat grew and as I swallowed back tears, I thought of my interview. Three years ago this passed August I arrived in NYC ready to work in the magazine world. I had an interview with David Gaspin who at the time was with HR at Conde Nast. I had met David in February of '06 when I came to NY for "informational interviews" in which I attempted to get my name out into the publishing world. David and I spoke about an opportunity at Gourmet magazine. I was immediately interested. after all, I'm a self proclaimed foodie. He sent me over to interview with Susan Keena, the Advertising Director. The interview was great, so she passed me along to Tom Hartman, the Associate Publisher.

Tom was terrifying. He kept me waiting in the Gourmet conference room for 45 minutes. When I finally sat down with him, he took one look at my resume and said, "Hebrew. Hmm. You speak Hebrew?" Then, silence.

A few moments later, without looking up from my resume he asked, "How are you at Excel?"

"I'm great at Excel!" I lied. "I took a few courses in college dealing with Excel. I'm confident with building equations and spreadsheets. I may need a refresher on a few things as it's been a year since I've used the program, but I'm really comfortable with it." Where was this all coming from? Equations?

I was relieved when Tom asked if I would be willing to take an Excel course. I can now confidently say, I'm great at Excel.

My first day at Gourmet was a whirlwind. I slicked my into a tight bun and wore a classic black suit. I put my glasses on and felt like such a professional. I would find out a year later that the art department deemed me "Lilith". It took me three months to let me hair down, literally.

My roommate Stephanie and I had too many good times while working at Gourmet together. We bonded over our love of food, long distance relationships, want to run marathons (which we did!), and our appreciation of all things awkward.

Susan Keena was my boss for a brief moment, before the Associate Publisher and my other boss was made Publisher and I moved with him to be his Executive Assistant. I will never forget my second week at work. Susan pulled me into her office, closed the door and said, "Monica, take in this moment. You are in a special place right now. This team is more than you can ever imagine and you will probably never have such an amazing experience as this again in your life." Boy was she right.

If I talked about Tom I would need 1,000 pages and unlimited words to find the right things to say. Let it be known, that Tom and I still email and speak on a regular basis. I will be forever thankful for everything he taught me. Tom Hartman will forever hold a piece of my heart that no one will ever be able to take.

Working with Ruth Reichl was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Her name was thrown around in my home for years, so when I got the job at Gourmet, my father was beyond ecstatic. At least once a week during my time at Gourmet my mother would ask, "How's Ruth? Did you speak to her today?" I didn't have the heart to tell my mom that I usually did not speak to Ruth. However, when I did she was warm, kind and had the most soothing voice I've ever heard. For the holidays one year I had Ruth sign a cookbook for my mom and dad. In it, she wrote a beautiful message to my parents about me. I would never be able to express to Ruth how much that meant to my parents.

Gourmet was a moment time. I'm so lucky that I got to be a part of such an incredible magazine and work with such an astonishing group of talented people.

Time For an Update?

This is a quick post. I am currently watching Californication and the daughter in the show who is supposed to be 12 years old is wearing a dress that I just wore to work last week. I would describe the dress, but my attempts to describe fashion always fail. I am a fashion misfit (clearly). Please remember I that I am on the verge of 26. So the question I must ask, and would love a response to is....

Do I need to update my wardrobe or is the 12 year old the one in the wrong?

I'm mostly concerned because this is a dress I wore to my place of employment.....

Comments welcomed and encouraged.

Stay tuned...later I plan to post a photo of this dress...

The Early Side of Dusk

So this evening I went with my new roommate to take measurements of our new place. As you know I'll be living down on Wall Street. I then ventured to Brooklyn to assist her in selling her couch. The trip was a breeze. One stop and I was there. I felt a sense of calm as I realized my new home makes life outside of one neighborhood so accessible. New York renters are notorious for "renters remorse." Because we must make a game time decision the minute we view an apartment, after we sign our life away we begin to wonder, "Was there something else out there?" or, "Was it really as big as I thought?" or my personal favorite, "Wait, what did this place look like again?"

As I started my long journey home to the upper west side I took a deep breath in and realized it was 7:45pm and dusk was upon me. The long days of summer are now getting shorter. This put a small weight on my heart as summer is my favorite time of year. Each year since graduating college I am astonished at how quickly the summer months slip by. Each year I compare the current summer to the last saying, "Wow, and I thought last summer flew by."

This reminds me of my 10th birthday. I was very excited about the fact that I was turning double digits. I reminded every person that would listen that, "You only turn double digits once!" I was a wise cookie, even then my friends. My father came home from work with flowers for me. I felt like a true lady. I took the flowers from my dad, looked him in the eyes and said, "Thanks daddy! I just can't believe how fast this year has flown by. I feel like I just turned nine. What crazy year." And with that, my dad looked at me and said, "Well punkin', each year is only going to go by fast than this one. So enjoy the ride and don't let it fly by you." This is perhaps the best advice my dad has ever given me. To be honest, I'm not sure my dad and I have ever discussed this memory...but no time like the present. So dad, if you're reading this, thanks. :)

Dad and me in Israel, 2006

I do try so hard not to let life fly by. I try not to wish time away. Often I find myself wishing that things would slow down. However, for the past few weeks I have heard myself cursing time aloud, praying for it to be one month from where I am now. My move, as if I have not mentioned it enough, has been an incredibly stressful time period for me. I feel like I'm in limbo, waiting for things to gear up. To all you folks who don't know me well, limbo and I don't go well together, and until I have everything settled with my move, I'll be hanging out with limbo. Limbo happens to be my arch nemeses. Limbo makes the advice my dad gave me when I was 10 seem like a load of crap. I'm typically a very optimistic person who tries to see the positive side of everything. Limbo is my kryptonite and weakens my optimism making me a very negative person who can only see why things will not work out, or why everything sucks.

With that said, I think it's time to say so long to limbo. I've got my move date. I've got my movers. Things look like they are shaping up. So perhaps I don't wish it to be one month from now...but can I negotiate next week?

Freezer Queen

So, in the process of moving I am playing the "Cleaning out the fridge and freezer, so let's see what we can come up with," game. Interestingly enough, I made something utterly delicious last night.

**Shout out to my mother is necessary as she taught me how to make the most out of your freezer...***

For all my fellow foodies, try this out!

Artichoke and Edamame puree

Ingredients:

Frozen Artichoke Hearts, thawed ( about 9 hearts )
2 cloves of garlic (for the brave, or for you garlic wimps, 1 clove will do)
2 Tablespoons of Grated Parmesan Cheese
2 Tablespoons of Olive Oil
1/2 cup of Frozen Shelled Edamame, thawed
Salt and Pepper to taste

In a food processor, puree the garlic with the olive oil. Once it has made a slight paste, add the edamame. Puree until edamame has combined with the garlic paste. Add the artichoke hearts and Parmesan. Puree once again. Add salt and pepper to taste....

I put this on top of salmon that I found in the freezer. It was vacuum packed salmon from Trader Joes. Really impressed by the frozen fish selection they have.

Voila! Delish and easy as pie...It's amazing what you can make from all the random stuff you have in your freezer.

Take a Deep Breath with Me

STRESS...

Just take a moment to think about this word. I have been so incredibly stressed lately. I'm moving in a week, and the loss of my beloved Olivia was the icing on the cake, the straw that broke the camels back, the last thing I could handle...well, you get the picture.

Moving in New York City is not an easy undertaking, and I'm about to take on my third move in three years. Everyone knows how fast paced this city is. And as fast paced as daily life is, so is the renters market. Don't try to find an apartment early and make things easier for yourself because it does not exist. All you can do is wait until one month before your move date and like a bat out of hell rush to the fences and take your post. It's a battle field out here. Apartments do not last. You have to be cut throat. If someone views the apartment you think you want before you get there to view it yourself, cut them at the knees. Spare no one. And, please do not try to find your dream apartment, because that does not exist. You will have to compromise one of three things: 1. Neighborhood 2. Rent 3. Size. Take your pick. You may be lucky enough to have to pick two, so be prepared.

I was planning on living in a studio because Sex and the City told me I had to have the experience of living alone. But then I realized, I actually live in the real world. Carrie Bradshaw's rent stabilized GIANT studio with HUGE kitchen and ENORMOUS closet does not exist. Charlotte's Upper East Side luxury building ain't happenin' on my budget. Yes, if I wanted to live in a dorm room with a fake kitchen and a bed-living room, sure. If I wanted to exceed my budget, plus pay bills all alone, I could do it. However, I realized my dream of living alone some how does not compare to my current quality of life. So, I've taken up a new roommate.

We have sacrificed our neighborhood and our budget (only by a tish), but our apartment is amazing. It is located on Wall Street. It has a beautiful roof deck, a gym in the building (no fee! Ka-CHING, I just made up some money!), and the apartment itself is extraordinary. All new appliances (for those of you not in NYC, this is a luxury, not a standard), lots of space...and drum roll please....CENTRAL AIR CONDITIONING. Yes, there is absurdity here, this would be mandatory in places outside of NYC. But here, they take you for what you're worth. So saddle up and get ready for a ride.

We did end up getting an unbelievable deal. Though I mention rent as an aspect that we sacrificed, we were truly low balling before, and now we have lucked out. I hope to be able to afford a beautiful new laptop I have been eying. And for all of my five followers, this will assist my writing life. Plus I'm hoping with the money I'll save I can afford an overseas vacation...at some point.

I sit now with a glass or red wine, a true water glass...no wine glasses left in my current apartment that is in the process of being packed up. I sip my wine, take a deep breath in and slowly let it out. I must enjoy this moment. The stress of getting the apartment is gone. I now must move on to scheduling my movers, scheduling a move out date, scheduling a move in date, negotiating a few things in my lease...the list goes on.

So with my stress at a smaller level I have no choice but to enjoy this moment. I currently have no TV in my apartment as it belonged to Lauren, my old (and incredibly amazing) roommate. All I can do is blog, sip my wine and read my book. And you know what? That sounds like an incredible evening to me.




Sweet dreams my Olivia

Hello World

My first posting...

I need to stop and think about this for a moment.

I've attempted blogging before, but it never really stuck. I tried the "I graduated from college and am now living in New York City, therefor I should blog about it," routine, but clearly that was overdone. I'm now 25, have been out of school for three years and have lived in NYC for the majority of that time. I kept meaning to pick up blogging again, but I nothing pushed me. I was a journalism major, and have always loved to write, so it would seem that blogging would be a natural outlet for me. But I digress. I do not work in journalism, so writing is a hobby....blogging is a hobby...looks like this could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship. The one question is, who the hell would want to read what I have to write...

...Here goes...