Ten Apartments, Two Years

Dumbo, 2007

Today is Monday, October 26th 2009. I am sitting in “my” apartment, listening to David Grey, in hopes of calming myself, in order to lower my blood pressure. As I look around at this room full of Barclay and Brian’s belongings, I notice that the only thing I own is this computer, and the small amount of maternity clothes that are hanging in my closet. I think back to when I first moved here, when I was living in Dumbo with my uncle. My mind was so innocent, I had no idea what the road ahead of me looked like, I had no idea that this is how it would end, or begin I should say. I remember when I first moved out of Uncle D’s place, into my first New York apartment. I lived there alone for about a month and it was during the winter, which is nothing like the winters in Texas (if that even exists). I was alone, but I remember thinking, this is how you’re supposed to feel, this is what New Yorker’s feel like, people live alone Houston, you have to just suck it up and go along with it. So I did. The neighborhood I lived in was not like the one I had moved from, (Dumbo-a modern and chic hood in Brooklyn) this place was deserted, and like I said before I was the minority. I got threats daily from locals telling me that if I looked at them one more time, that they would “push my white ass into the f***ing train” I covered my body head to toe in clothes, layers upon layers, including my face, so that no one would notice that I was a blonde white girl. It was terrifying, I ran, literally ran from the train to my apartment door when I got home from work. Soon after, Lindsey, Kieran and Jayson all moved in, and then it was double trouble. I made them walk with me if I had to go to the corner store to get milk, the four of us would walk arm in arm down to the store, KierJay had no shame, they let their white blonde hair shine, they both rocked a full face of make up, and their walk? Forget it, they’d strut up and down Prospect Ave like it was nobody’s business. I always feared that if we drew too much attention to ourselves, we’d be shot, seriously. The amount of anxiety and fear that I felt during those cold winter months was un explainable. I cried myself to sleep every night, asking myself why and how I got where I was.

Finally, Lindsey and I decided that we couldn’t take it anymore, and got the hell out of there. That is when we moved to an apartment on East 60th street and 1st Avenue. We thought we were big timers then, we were walking distances to our jobs, we had access to all of the great restaurants on 2nd Ave, life was good for us. The apartment we moved into was furnished, but had only one closet, we didn’t care, we were living in the city and at that time, that was all that mattered. We both had to wear black everyday to work, and have the exact same taste in clothes, this made things difficult when getting ready in the morning. The one closet deal was not working out, so I came up with the brilliant idea of putting two rows of nails along the wall, and hanging clothes there. Linds thought it was great, but it still wasn’t enough, so we went out and bought a rolling rack, keep in mind we were sharing a tiny studio apartment, our beds touched, the kitchen was in reaching distance from Lindsey’s bed. It was incredibly crowded, and after a while things pilled up, the apartment was a total disaster, we somehow managed.


Once spring came around, Lindsey had to move back to Georgia to graduate, since she was just in New York doing her internships. I was freaking out because this meant that I was going to have to find a new place to live, and I had one month to figure it out. I told the girls I worked with at Domino about my situation, and together we tried searching for roommates and apartments, but had no luck. One of the girls I interned with lived in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, a super funky hipster neighborhood right outside of the city, and she was going to be traveling in Europe for the summer with her best friend, she told me that I could live in her room for the month that she was gone, until I figured something else out. I jumped right on that offer.

When Lindsey and I were moving out of our 60th Street apt, we had so much crap that we just wanted to get rid of, and I had an old raggedy suitcase that I was planning on throwing away, but instead we decided to put everything we didn’t have room for, into it. We threw in the most random things, tampons, canned soup, an insane amount of beauty products that I had collected from the magazine, old sweaters we didn’t wear anymore, shoes, hangers, we hooked the homeless up that day. Attached to the side of the suitcase we had written a note on a paper towel that read, “To the people of New York, here is a suitcase full of treasures, we are two girls moving out, and don’t have room for any of these things, please enjoy!”

Linds and I hailed a cab, threw all of my bags into the trunk, and headed back to Brooklyn. She helped me unpack my things, and get my room organized. The apartment was a loft on the top floor of the building, I had the corner room that overlooked Williamsburg. Lindsey left, and there I was all alone again, this time sans computer and TV. I was sad, but had done it before, so I knew I could do it again, and it was only for a month, and hopefully Lindsey would want to move back and we could find a place together. I was working at Domino during that time, and it was when I was the full time Fashion and Beauty Assistant, much different from interning. My days and nights were spent at 4 Times Sq at the Conde’ Nast building. I literally took a blanket and pillow with me sometimes. I was lonely, but I had my job to keep my busy, I barely had time for my friends or family, and my social life was spent attending PR events for the magazine. Needless to say that month flew by, and I had no where to go. From there on I pretty much jumped from couch to couch, I lived in Murray Hill for a week with a girl that worked at the magazine, she kindly lent me her couch and once my time was up there, I decided I wanted to go to Texas for a while to relax, find an apartment that was steady, and then come back to the city. I had been interviewing for the full time position with Bobbi in Soho, and after eight interviews and the letter from Bobbi, I landed the job, but wouldn’t start for a month, so going to Texas was perfect. I had met two girls from Austin that summer, Kim and Amber, they had a cute place in the West Village on Jane Street, and I one day called Kim to see if I could stay on her floor for a week before I went to Texas. She agreed, and there I was again, lugging all of my crap to another apartment that wasn’t mine, what are we on now number six? This was the sixth place I had lived in in less than a year. I placed my two suitcases in the corner and blew up the air mattress, and stayed there until I went home. While I was in Texas I had been searching the internet for apartments and roommates to live with, Lindsey hadn’t made any promises to me that she’d be coming back to the city, so I had to find someone else.


One day I was looking and I came across an ad for a cute apartment in the East Village, on 2nd Ave and St. Marks Place. It was a red brick building with an iron gate fence at the entrance, on the 2nd floor elevator included, all hardwoods, for a reasonable price, if I found a roommate. I found a girl who was oddly enough from a small town in Texas, but had been living in Austin for the past year, and she was looking to move to NYC. We talked over the phone, but never met in person, I was desperate and agreed to live with her. We’d be sharing a bedroom, but I didn’t care, I had an amazing job waiting on me in the city, and I just wanted to get back to it. So, we moved in together, I started working for Bobbi, and she was an un employed 19 year old jewelry designer. She was nice, and we became friends fast mostly because we had no choice. However, I still wanted Lindsey back, we knew how to make it work with each other, not to mention, we were great friends. So, I compiled a list of contacts that I had from Domino, for Lindsey to send her resume to, she got a few interviews and decided to fly up and give it another go. She didn’t have much luck on the interviews but did manage to score a babysitting job with a wealthy family on the Upper East Side. Her mind was set, she moved back to the city, and lived with us in the East Village.

The three of us did not get along at all, it was pure chaos living there, the girl went out every night until 5 in the morning and would come home and cook gourmet meals in our “bedroom”, which was the kitchen/living room because she kicked Lindsey and I out of her “room”, after numerous arguments, mostly having to do with the fact that she was always ridiculously wasted. She had a very strange group of friends who were inconsiderate and obnoxious, including her boyfriend, who thought it was appropriate to walk around the apartment naked. We got into screaming fights, and were completely miserable. Lindsey and I again deiced to move. We were looking to settle down into our dream neighborhood, the Upper East Side, and were determined to find the perfect apartment. We stumbled across an adorable one bedroom on 77th and 3rd Ave, accompanied with a tree lined street, and as an added bonus, our favorite bar sat right on the corner, nonetheless we were sold. This was now my ninth apartment to live in.

The only flaw(s) with the 77th St apartment was that it was on the 6th floor of a walk up building, the bathroom was tiny, only one of us could fit in there at a time, and in the shower, you had to open the door and sit on the floor in order to shave your legs. We were living with Lucifer in the EV so we didn’t mind at all, and we said the stairs would make our legs stronger and our buts tighter. So, being the poor/cheap/starving-trying to survive New Yorker’s that we were, we had no choice but to move our things up those 6th flights of stairs by our selves. In any normal city, you would have your dad or your uncle, or your boyfriend, or just a few of your guy friends bring their muscles and trucks over, and move it for you. In New York? Never. We first of all both have strong dads that would gladly help us, but they live halfway across the country, and having a boyfriend in this city is well, just a complete joke. The guy friends that we’ve acquired here are either gay, or too busy to help. So, we did it ourselves! One day we found a beautiful chocolate brown sofa sleeper for sale, we bought it, and hired movers to bring it to our apartment. Once they lugged it up the 6 flights of stairs, they realized it wouldn’t fit through our 25 inch doorway. Great. The couch was non refundable, so we were then stuck with this giant sofa sleeper, and no where to put it. We had dinner on the floor for the following three weeks, until we found a new couch that miraculously fit through the doorway. Lindsey’s dad flew up and helped us build a closet, but this was not your average closet ladies and gentlemen, this was a single cabinet hanging on the wall, with two poles going across to hang clothes on. It was all we could fit in the bedroom, since the queen size bed that we were sharing, took up the entire space of the room. It was truly a “bedroom”. You could stand on the bed, and pick out your clothes for work, or if you wanted to, you could reach your hand out and open the window, or even open the door! Lindsey’s mom sent us two super cute chairs and a huge rug for the living room, we hadn’t ever felt this “at home” in an apartment. We finally felt stable. The memories we made in that apartment are never to be forgotten. We lived there for about eight months, and then once I found out I was pregnant, I said to myself, there is absolutely no way I can climb those stairs after working an eight hour day on my feet, hell I could barely do it non-pregs. Things got a little crazy when I first found out, Linds was worried because I was going to be leaving shortly, and she had to quickly find a job, and a place to live, in less than seven months, (I was two months pregnant when I fond out). We had both been dreaming of moving back to The South, and so Lindsey started interviewing back in Atlanta, I had no plan and no idea what I was doing, but knew that there was no way I could raise a child in New York alone. One day I came home from work, it was about six o clock, and I was getting ready for bed, (first trimester exhaustion stage). Linds sat me down and told me that she had gotten a job in Georgia and she would be moving back in one month. I was extremely happy for her, because this is exactly what she wanted, but this meant another move for me.

That is how Barclay and Brian came into the picture, they had an open room and offered it up to us. We found a girl to take over the lease of the 77th St apartment, and had one day to be moved out. Fortunately Brain said he would help us, and there we were packing our things up, moving to yet another apartment. Which is where I currently reside, at 111th St between 5th Ave and Lenox Ave. I tell people that I live on the Upper West Side, in actuality it is the very beginning of Harlem. Linds stayed here for three weeks, until she flew back to Atlanta to start her new fabulous life. I was so sad to watch her go, it was the end of Houston and Lindsey, our chapter was over, and new chapter had begun. As I sit in my bed I think to myself how lucky I am to have her as a friend, she was there for me through thick and thin, she was there when I found out I was having you, and she stayed positive through my craziness, and helped me get through it all. Lindsey is still one of my very best friends, and I am so happy to have all of the memories that we made together. I have less than a month left in the city, and I am finally at peace knowing that the only move I have to make is back to Texas, via airplane.

111th St. Apt.

                                                          

A Better Rain

Here I am again, traveling to work via the number 3 express train, thinking about a number of different things, all of which confuse me. A is running through my mind, not just because I'm carrying his child, but because I have dreams about him every night, some are good, like we're happy and in love and he's excited about baby, but some are quite terrifying, and make no sense to me and in the mornings I wake up laying in a pool of sweat. Anyways, right now I'm sitting next to a nanny with a 6 month old little girl, and across from me is a mommy bouncing her newborn baby boy in her lap. It blows my mind how they do it, I don't think I'd last a week in this city with a baby. I once nannied for a family in a ritzy part of Brooklyn, for about four months, I was practically the childs mother, and it was one of the most exhausting jobs I've had since I've lived here. I picked her up from school, took her to soccer practice at Chelsea Piers, and after we'd brunch at Pastis as per her request. The child owned every single pair of Seven Jeans made for children, and owned four Marc Jacobs purses. Poor thing, her mommy was never around, she stayed out late, until 5 am, I once spotted her stumbling around Meatpacking with her friends. Seriously lady? You are 38 years old, you have a seven year old little girl at home, get it together! I think about how fortunate I am to have grown up with two mothers, and to have learned from them almost everything I need to know about being a mom. I'm so thankful to have them as role models. I feel like I was born to be a mommy, I've been spending all of my life wishing and hoping to have kids, and now its finally happening to me. I just didn't think it would occur under these circumstances, but that's ok, in life sometimes these things hit you out of left field, and in my case it happens a little more than sometimes. I'm ok with that, I've learned how to handle unexpected surprises, I think its something to be proud of.


I will touch back to the subject of men for a moment..to start things off, A is more apparent these past couple of weeks, and I am so glad, he actually cares how I am doing, he's not just asking to be polite, I can tell he genuinely wants to know what's going on in my life. We talk about three times a week now. He wants to know when I have doctors appointments, and what goes on in them, its crazy how someone can change over night. I hope its for real this time, I don't think I can handle being toyed around in this situation, or any for that matter. I trust that this is all happening for some very un clear reason, and I will have an "ah ha" moment later on down the road. As for his mother, things have turned around as well, this makes me feel better about everything, we had a really nice phone conversation the other night while I was in Houston for my Mimi's funeral. All of his immediate family has requested to attend the baby shower, my response: DUH, I love his family! I now realize, wow my life isn't so bad, its actually wonderful, I'm expecting a sweet baby boy, and everyones supporting me, there are worse things going on in this world than to stress about any of this. I thank my lucky stars, and hope to keep up with this positive thinking.


Tomorrow I have a doctor's appointment, where Dr. F will take my blood pressure, and give me the Swine Flu Vaccine. So exciting! Ha. I'm twenty-two weeks now, things that are happening to my body are: rounding of my belly, the punching and kicks from my babe, decreased urination (which is amazing), frequent back and leg pain, and an increased appetite. I never thought a human being could consume this much food, I think I'm even eating more than my dad eats! So that's all for now yall, stay tuned, hopefully more entertaining and interesting things will happen to me in this last month and a half of me living here.

Wishing You Well

Dear Baby,


Right now mommy is flying to Houston, leaving the big apple behind for a while because you're great grandmother passed away this morning in her sleep. I lived with her when I was a little baby like you, she fed me more food than my body could handle, she liked to keep me fat and full. Her name is Ann Wells, and I called her Mimi. Which is what I'm hoping you will call at least one of your grandma's. Mimi was very excited about me having you. When I called her I was sitting at your grandma's house, we were both on the phone, and I was very nervous to tell her that I was pregnant with you. Once I did, she said what she says about all things that excite her, "Oh my word Bunny, isn't that just wonderful!" She has called me Bunny since I can remember. Mimi got very sick a few months ago, and I went to visit her in the hospital in Houston with your Aunt Lace', and Grandma Jame'. She had a hard time remembering me, but when she saw my belly, her eyes lit up, she grabbed my hand and pulled me close to her, and said, "Bunny is that you?" I told her yes, and that I was having a sweet baby boy, she smiled. Mimi always told me how handsome you were going to be, she's right. She also told me she wanted me to name you Conrad, I had no idea where that came from, until later when I learned that it was the name of one of her young and cute nurses. Unfortunately, I will not be naming you that...it is still undecided, but mommy's pretty sure she knows what your name will be. So right now I am sitting in the airport waiting for my plane to take off, and I think about how hard this is going to be for me, but tell myself I have to stay strong for you. Mimi would have loved nothing more than to hold you and kiss you. We will always remember her and her sweet soft voice, her kind heart, her yummy southern comfort food, and for all of the memories we made together. I will always keep a special place for her in my heart, and its comforting to know that you will always have her as your guardian angel, to watch over you and protect you. Even though she will be missed dearly, I know now she feels no pain, only happiness, and this puts me at ease. We wish her well, and will never forget her.

I'm Hanging On

I just had dinner with one of my friends mother's, April, adorable, energetic and super chic. Her daughter Honor is one of oldest and dearest friends. We ate at one of my new favorite places to dine at in the city, Blue Ribbon Bakery, known for their fabulous upscale comfort food. April was in town for Avery's (her youngest daughter) twentieth birthday. I have known the Hinkle Family since I was in the sixth grade, and every time I'm around them, I feel comforted and loved. I talk to Honor three to four times a week, and she has been more than amazing before and now during my pregnancy. So, April and I were sitting at dinner, chatting about Honor and her newest endeavors, and about how all of her children have grown up so fast. We talked about my life, and all of the things I've done while living in New York. During our conversation I was hit hard by reality, as she was telling me about how "easy and quick" all FOUR of her labors were, I suddenly realized, OMG this is my life, this is happening to me, I will shortly be giving birth to this little person in just four months. I asked myself, are you ready, because everything is about to completely change for you Houston. I watched her smile and talk about how proud she is of all of her children, she's a hot mama, she's got the big rock, the sweet southern husband, holding the position as an editor at a major magazine. She has the life I want! As dinner wrapped up, she walked me to the subway, hugged me, and hopped in a cab back to her hotel in Murray Hill. There I was all alone again, I felt sad and lonely. I wished I was going back to a hotel and flying to Texas in a few days, but I'm not, I still have two more months here. Seems short I know....but sometimes my days drag on, especially lately, the pains in my body have gotten worse, and work is getting more difficult as my belly expands. Every time I spend quality time with a fellow Texan, and I leave them, I feel like a little girl who accidentally let go of her balloon. You know that feeling? Where you feel like you've just lost something, and you don't think you'll ever get it back? I despise that feeling! I'm not sure if I've mentioned this yet but, I am ready to go back home! It felt so good to have someone actually care about my life, my belly, my future, and my well being. My family and friends do of course!!!!! BUT they're not here to physically express those feelings to me, there’s only so much love you can feel over the phone, and not to mention 3,000 miles away. So as I ride the train home solo, I began to think about my future life in Texas. Everyone always asks me, "so what's your plan?" I don't know! Well maybe I have an idea…My first "plan" went down a totally different path than I expected, if we're going to be literal here, I'm on "Plan C". I have just "planned" to have this baby, and now people want to know what my next move is going to be. Well let's see, first I'd like to get the hell out of New York, next, I'd like to deliver my baby fast and painless, find my dream job, and  of course have somone fall madly in love with me and my bambino. Right now, only one of those "plans" seems somewhat feasible to me. One of the things I have feared the most since I became a single, twenty-two year old mother, is that I won't find someone who will love us both. I’m scared that I will find "the perfect match", we start to get close, and I then have to tell him I'm a package deal, and then he runs. My life is not like The Holiday, I wish I could find my Jude Law, but this is a real story folks, nothing scripted about it. On that note, why are men so scared of babies? Babies are the least scariest thing on this earth, they are small little people who need nothing but love, food, and sleep! I am confused by this, I guess its hard for me to understand men in general these days, but babies? Come on!

Since we are discussing the male species, I’d like to tell my readers that A has jumped on this baby train, and I couldn’t be happier! I received a phone call from him last night around seven o' clock, he sounded like he always does with the same old, “Hey Houston, what’s up..” nonsense, I expected another freak out session but he continued with a very sincere apology. He has asked for my forgiveness plenty of times in the past, but only a few times since I’ve become pregnant, and none of them have ever sounded this real. He said to me, “First of all Houston, I just want apologize for all that I have put you through in the past, you didn’t deserve any of it.” I was stunned. Barclay and I had been shopping all day and were in a cab on our way back to our apartment, I wanted to scream/cry/yell/. I grabbed her tiny arm and squeezed it tight, put my hand over the phone and said, “you’ll never believe what he just said to me.” He continued by saying he was upset at me for not sending him the baby’s latest sonogram, I explained to him that the last time I did that, he had no desire of opening the attachment, therefore I didn’t. He then demanded that I sent it to him, (in a calm tone of voice). I wanted to somehow text Jennifer from my phone while keeping our converstaion going, and have her forward the pictures to him asap. I asked him about him and his ex, and if they had talked about anything, he said no, that he wasn’t too concerned about his love life right now because he has bigger things to worry about, and that he has a son on the way. EXCUSE ME! I asked him to repeat what he had just said to me, he laughed and said, “No Houston, I’m serious.” For the first time in five months, I believed him. I felt tears roll down my face, but I didn’t want him to know I was excited. I tried to act cool, I didn’t want to jinks anything. He also asked me, “So what happens when you move back? How does this work? Do we get back together? I want to do this the right way.” HOLD THE PHONES! I told him we’d have to talk about that person to person. Again, I love the fairytale ending, but a baby is no reason to get married. We will have to see what happens down the road, and if this baby changes him into a new man, which I’m hoping it will, then there might be hope. A called me later that night to tell me that he got the email and looked at the pictures of our baby, I asked him what he thought, his response: "He's beautiful, looks exactly like you." I wanted to cry but had to hold it together, I told him how long baby's arms and legs were, and if he noticed, he said, "Yep, just like his daddy." He said excatly what I wanted him to, nothing could have made me happier. I told him goodnight, and hung up the phone, and found myself thinking, do I still love him? Will I love him again when I see him holding our baby? This is all so confusing to me, I don’t know what to feel. We were torn apart by love, thrown into two different worlds, and now we are going to be in each others lives forever. We at least have to be friends, I want a civil, healthy relationship with my sons father, I’ve seen the messes un happily married parents can cause, and I don’t want that for my child. After talking to him and hearing the honesty in his voice, I finally felt like I could trust him again. I felt like a huge weight was lifted off of my shoulders, I could sleep at night, and breathe again. My baby is going to have a father that loves and cares for him, there’s nothing I want more than that. I guess there is a light at the end of the tunnel..

Looking back..

My belly's getting so much bigger now, people are coming up and rubbing it, even total strangers! This doesn't bother me, truthfully, I love the attention. My little guy is happy, swimming around inside of me, and he's kicking a lot more these days, especially at night when I'm just about to fall asleep. Lindsey bought him the book, "Love You Forever", a book about a mother and son's love for each other, and I’ve been reading it to him at night before I go to bed. I also read that you should play music for your baby, the books recommend Mozart, I choose George Strait. Women are constantly asking me, "When are you due? What are you having?" It becomes more real to me each time that I answer them. I think back to before, when I was single and had nothing to be responsible for except my career and bills, when I thought my life was so rough, and I laugh. When I pictured me as a mother, I didn't picture this. I saw myself married, to a sweet southern man with a big shiny rock on my hand, a smokin’ bod, and a joint income to support our new baby. As you know, there is none of that going on. I am surprisingly ok with this. It took me a while to get there, but with the grace of God, my friends and family, I'm doing it. Its weird how you can paint a picture of your perfect life, and as humans we expect the universe to give that to us. I've got news for you, that's never the case. Its not to say, don't dream, don't have plans and goals, I am all for that, and wouldn't be where I am today if I hadn't wished and hoped for all of the fortunes I have acquired. However, I do know that God’s plan for me is much bigger than anything I could dream of, and I trust that he has this under control. After A and I had sex, I took "Plan B", also known as, "The Morning After Pill", which prevents the union of the sperm and the egg, obviously not in my case. The pill is only seventy percent accurate, one in four women can still become pregnant even after taking it. A and I dated for four years, and had plenty of intercourse during that time, I never once had a scare, nor did I with previous boyfriends. My point is, this was meant to happen, God's ready for me to take on this new responsibility, and he wouldn't have given it to me if he didn't think I could handle it.

So here I am sitting in the entry way of my apartment enjoying a glass of Pinot Noir and some chocolate. I had an extremely long and busy day at work today, so I thought I could treat myself. My doctor says its okay to have once or twice a week. Alcohol is something I miss the most during my pregnancy. I used to smoke, I don’t miss it at all, I just really crave my glasses of wine. I used to have at least, a glass a night before, and on the weekends, forget it, I’d have a bottle, and then go out to the bar and have more! I am twenty-two, single, and I live in New York City. I miss going out in the city with my friends, getting a little too tipsy and stumbling around the streets of the East Side. I miss the wild 3AM nights Lindsey and I used to have. I sometimes think we had more fun here than we did in college. There are no limits on things here, bars stay open til the sun comes up, for me, going out was the best part about this town! I remember one night Lindsey and I were at Brother Jimmy’s, our neighborhood bar, we had foolishly started the night off at our apartment, with my best friend, vodka. Things were bound to get out of control. We walked to the end of the block, we were wrapped up in cashmere sweaters, paired with our big puffy winter coats, it was a cold brisk night, I think it was snowing. I always placed the order at the bar, L is first of all, almost too short to reach the bar, and mumbles so bad that you can never understand her. So, I get up to the bar, and before I can spit out the order I am approached by a tall, lumberjack looking man with pretty green eyes, and a scruffy light brown beard. He was wearing a plaid button down flannel shirt, and a khaki corduroy jacket. A mountain man, I thought. Maybe it’s the vodka talking folks…but I was very interested in this one. I look over at Lindsey, and give her a wink (which I was always made fun of for, she says I look like I’m giving the death stare, and that its not sexy-I disagree). She rolls her eyes and signals me to hurry up. Rude! I’m trying to run some game here Lindsey! He introduces himself with a firm handshake, “Owen, and you?” Ahh dreamy….Owen. “I’m……Houston” “No, what is your name?“ “Houston is my name.” Most people think I’m either telling them where I’m from, or that I’m trying to be funny. Damn northerners, always trying to make things more complicated than they have to be. Houston is my name, yes I’m from Texas, Austin to be exact, and I know you think that’s so hilarious, can we move on? I’d like a drink please. He got a few laughs out and then got me a beer, and L a vodka soda. I decided I should stay away from the vodka for the rest of the night, so I could keep my shit together with this one. We all go and get a table together, we have small talk, dance a little, and before I know it, Owen and L are at the bar ordering freaking shots! Three hours later, we decided we should continue this party at our ever so spacious 6th floor walk up apartment, Owen was easily convinced. All three of us walk back to 236 East 77th St, and climb the stairs, get inside and pour more bevs. My stomach started to turn, I went into the bathroom to check my hair and make up, and L was already getting into her pj’s, typical party pooper. There we were squished together on our tiny brown velvet couch that we bought for 145.00 at Housing Works down the street, watching Wedding Crashers, when all of a sudden I felt a wave of nausea, I quickly got up and walked ten steps to our extremely small and close to the living room bathroom, where I became violently ill. I turned the water on in the sink in hopes of drowning out the sound of me vomiting. I tried to flush but of course with my luck, it wont. I rinsed my mouth out, and walked out, leaving the vomit lingering in the toilet. It was bright pink, I’m guessing from the shots they were ordering before. I walked out in confidence (still drunk) and sat back down next to him, I’m sure he thought, wow I just heard you puking, and now you really smell. L looked at me, and I gave her a stare saying, “holy shit, I just puked!” I went in our bedroom to change and when I came out, Owen was no longer on the couch. I asked Lindsey where he went, she said, “he’s just peeing, chill out!” OH MY GOD. Before I could explain to L what had just happened, he came out of the bathroom, he said, “wow, nice job in there H-Town.” Really? Is this really happening to me? Lindsey jumped up, and was laughing her way to the bathroom, she came out and just shook her at me. I laughed nervously, and my face turned bright red. I apologized and explained that I don’t really do vodka that well, his response? “Don’t even worry, I helped you out, tried to get it with my pee.” Um excuse me? I laughed again, and thought to myself is this guy kidding? He is still here talking to me, I was expecting him to run out the door as soon as he saw it. Anyways, Lindsey went to bed, Owen and I stayed up watching the movie, and after a while things started to heat up. Nothing serious, we were just having good old fashion make out session. (Yes this guy was kissing a girl who just completely lost her super, and witnessed the evidence) I was ready to go to bed, and told him that. He explained to me that he was staying “all the way on the Upper West Side” and didn’t feel like cab-ing it cross-town. For some reason, I agreed to let him stay, gave him a pillow and blanket for the couch, and I then crawled into my bed, with Lindsey of course. Ten minutes later, he opens the door and hops in bed with us, fully clothed. L’s passed out, and I am extremely drunk and exhausted. Did he really think something was going to happen between us? First of all, you just met me buddy, second, we are sharing the bed with my roommate! Sorry, no thanks. We somehow passed out all squished together in our queen size bed. The next morning was just as interesting, I woke up in between Owen and Lindsey, they were having a full on conversation with each other, I quickly realize how embarrassed I am from getting sick, and say something under my breath to L about it, O hears and makes a joke that he saw it this morning, and it had gotten worse. Great, that’s wonderful. I wanted him out! I asked him if he wanted me to call him a cab, he told me he was excited to walk through the snow back to his friends apartment. This is the guy that told me he didn’t feel like cabbing it “all the way” across town last night…Really? Another interesting night on the town with Houston and Lindsey, always memorable.

Clearly, I am no longer living the life I used to live pre-baby, I now have my priorities more in line, not completely, but definitely more so than before. My life changed all in one instant, I love the new me, I am, for the most part, happy, even when my feet are throbbing, my back is aching, and I am so tired I can barley stand, I have a new man to give my heart to, and he’s the one that really matters.