NYC, You Kicked My Ass.

“It’s ONLY 3.5 blocks. Any human with two arms, two legs and a pulse should easily move four – no – three and a half short blocks . If they rely on others, they should just get the F out of NYC.” …was what I repeatedly told people while turning down offers to help me move.

What a gigantic mistake. I was wrong.
Boy, was I wrong.

It started with underestimating the distance. Then, overestimating my superpowers equals formula for Fin disaster. You better believe I paid for it. Big time. What – in theory – was only supposed to be a 3-4 hour move? Ended up taking all. frickin’. day.

After about the fourth-ish leg, I knew that in order for me to keep it together, I needed moral support. Turning to friends via phone calls / texts / Facebook something, anything, to find people I love cheering me on was exactly what I needed. Encouragement helped me push through. And it worked. I did it.

Ok, fine. So it took about a good eight hours. A few ‘I am independent and bad-ass yet still can be a damsel in distress’ acts for kind strangers to help with the super heavy stuff. But still, I hauled most of my crap all by myself. Didn’t call the people who offered to help me move. I didn’t even cab it! And you know what? It feels DAMN good. I don’t remember the last time I felt this empowered (in my personal life).

So New York? You may have kicked my ass through the apartment hunting process but in the end, I OWNED YOUR ASS, BITCH!

It’s true when they say if you make it here, you can make it anywhere. I feel like I can conquer the world.

Next up: world domination.

If anyone’s interested in my semi-meltdowns, they’re on Facebook. I’m actually taking most of the really personal crap away from Twitter and back to Facebook, while slowly cutting down my friend’s list. So if I unfriend you, it’s not personal. It’s just that I don’t know you that well (or I’d rather not share my personal life with you, for whatever reason it may be).

For personal archiving: Meltdown one. Meltdown two. Meltdown three. Accomplishment. Koba. More convo.


9 thoughts on “NYC, You Kicked My Ass.

  1. Dude. You rock. I only wish I could pop open a Big Yellow Bottle with you right now to celebrate the ass kickin’ you just gave that strip of pavement….and to laugh together over the show you must’ve given to those brunch-then-later-happy-hour goers.

    Love you.

    Miss your face.

    Louie says hi.


    1. Omg Big Yellow Bottle LOL — those are so frickin’ expensive over here, I now default to cheap Spanish and Italian reds. Actually, I’m now a Rosé or white drinker! Seriously, times have changed.

      Oh, the stories I have from today. You will laugh your ass off. I seriously don’t know how you move so much!!

      I miss you.

      Love you more.

      Louie is my heart. #murrrQUACK

      1. Oh how serendipitous – I’m drinking a lovely white out of a big clear bottle right now :) Man. Are we growing up, or growing old? lol

        We should catch up soon. Either in person or like actual voice to voice using some kind of device.

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