I remember hearing (ironically enough probably from Sex and the City) that in New York you are always either looking for an apartment, a boyfriend, or a job.  I find myself desperately searching for two of those things, and praying that the third will find me when the time is right.

I thought this was interesting art on the walls headed to the roof of The Standard.

I thought this was interesting art on the walls headed to the roof of The Standard.

So here’s the tea.  My landlord thought it would be a good idea to raise my rent by $200 per month; hence, I have to find a new place to live by September.  Retail is the absolute pits, but I’m making the best of it, and hoping to land something corporate soon.  I’m afraid that my writing career is suffering as a result of my retail job.  I have never been a very artsy fartsy person, but you really have to be in a certain head space to write, and to write well.  Truthfully, after a long day of being so “on” I want to come home and just get horizontal, but I know that no goals will be accomplished that way.

I have to say my first summer in New York has been a tad uneventful albeit pleasant.  Nothing to write home or here about.  Today I actually had an off day that was pretty cool.  I went running in Central Park, and I discovered the joy that is Uniqlo.  Later  we celebrated a friend’s birthday atop the Standard Hotel (where Beyonce filmed the video for “Rocket”) in the Meatpacking District, which is one of my favorite areas here.  The scenery was really nice overlooking the water, but the crowd left an awful lot to be desired.  I will say that the $6 banana and Nutella crepe made it more than worth the trip.  I think I may have a slight Nutella addiction, but hey the first step is to admit it.


Dress: Uniqlo Shoes: H&M Necklace: So old I don’t remember

I feel like I get on here and complain, and that’s not my intention at all, but this is therapeutic for me.  It gives me a chance to vent without running the risk of boring my friends to death.  I love this city honestly.  It’s dirty, smelly, and for the very wealthy, but I have never felt more like I belong.  Everyone that I meet here is working a job to fund their dreams just like I am.  I take comfort in knowing that I’m not alone in what my coworker calls this “beautiful struggle.”


Really dope artwork on the walls headed to the rooftop