A New Gang

Basic RGBSo I’m a little over a week into my new gig! No turning back now, so they say! It’s been that initial adjustment of getting to know people, absorbing an avalanche of information without my brain exploding, and actually doing the job! But mostly, I’m trying to get people to like me, which involves a lot of cheerful laughter and overly enthusiastic exclamations about how much I too, love chai tea.

At my old job, I built up such a comfortable rapport with my coworkers that it’s definitely strange to be back at square one. “Where are you from? What was your last job? Do you mind if I bring a potted plant in here?” It’s like deja vu, except I’m a lot less shy and don’t have a spot for a potted plant anyway. But I worked there for over three years, and I’ve worked here for less than three weeks! Before you know it, these lovely people will be making fun of me constantly and I’ll feel right at home!

So while I’m still working out the personality kinks, my new coworkers and I are all pretty much in the same boat! We’ve all up and left our lives for this job, and basically have no friends here. If that hasn’t motivated many a conversation, I don’t know what does! And while we’re not hanging out all the time, it’s nice to have a core group of people who are experiencing the same things. Moving out, moving in, leaving an old job, starting a new one….and oh yea, living with roommates. More on that some other time…..

What’s My Age: 5, 12, 14, 18, 20, 23, 26…..all the ages in my life where I’ve had to make new friends. So popular!

Moving day

PrintSo my new job involved me moving to a new city temporarily, and between finishing my old job, preparing for my band concert, having my parents over, saying goodbye to friends, and dealing with a gaping hole in my apartment ceiling, I finally got around to packing on Sunday morning. My flight was Sunday at 3 pm.

I’m not usually the type to leave things to the last minute, and didn’t anticipate it taking as long as it did! It wasn’t so much the initial pack, which involved dumping the contents of my closet and dresser onto the floor, but rather the endless pile of random items that didn’t seem to fit anywhere! Why do I have so many shoes? Why do I have so many varieties of face wash? Why do I need to bring them all?

Well, needless to say, I overpacked. When I arrived at my new apartment, my three overstuffed bags exploded all over my relatively small room, and the ridiculousness of packing high-heeled boots and three winter coats presented itself pretty clearly. Plus, with no hangers, the majority of my clothes are in piles on the floor. At least I won’t ever need to go clothes shopping here….or ever again! And I’ll make friends with my roommate when I offer to split 6 bottles of face wash!

What’s My Age: an 18-year-old college freshman, who just had to pack every shred of clothing and photo-collage posters and throw pillows and beauty supplies and….. 

Big News! Big News!

PrintI have some BIG news to share! …I got a new job! And today is my last day! And I’m moving to a new city (temporarily)! And I’m overwhelmed and excited and nervous and WEEEEEE!

Listen, if you’re surprised, so was I at how quickly it all came together. I had been looking around for a new job for quite some time, and like all the best things in life, this just happened to pop up and work out in the span of four days! So it’s been a bit of a whirlwind two weeks of sharing the news, packing up, and preparing for the next big thing!

Of course, it’s bittersweet to be leaving my job here. This month marks three full years since I was hired as a full-timer, and I still remember vividly the sweet relief and excitement of finally feeling like things were coming together after a challenging few months! Without this job, I wouldn’t be living in my apartment, or have gotten to fly on a private jet to Canada, or have met Beyoncé! Plus, I’ve met some wonderful people (aside from Beyoncé…) who have become some of my closest friends. And that’s who I’ll miss the most–my lovely coworkers, who have put up with my myriad of quirks and anxieties, like my endless half-jokes over whether or not I would be getting fired today. CONFIDENCE!

But I’m really excited for this new opportunity and for a few months out of New York City. It’s going to be an adjustment, but it’s in my DNA to flip my life upside down occasionally! So we’ll see where the pieces fall! At least it will make for some fresh material.

The Award Goes To…..

Basic RGB“Ladies and Gentleman! It’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for, the most coveted award of the morning! This award celebrates the accomplishments of those people who are completely incapable of ever getting up when their alarm goes off! They’ve trained their ears to ignore the blaring sounds of various iPhone alarms, even “Old Car Horn.” They’ve trained their minds to fall back asleep just seconds after diffusing multiple alarms with eyes still closed! They’ve trained their bodies to leap from bed and immediately get ready in a pell-mell—but practiced—fashion!

“The award for the person who has gotten up way past their alarm for the most consecutive days is……ALYSSA!!”

Crowd cheers! Alyssa rises from her bed in a panic, convinced she is going to be late in accepting the award. She lunges up to the stage while also applying her makeup and poking earrings through her ears. She arrives at the podium to relieved applause from other nominees, who are thankful to have it a bit more together than she.

 “Thank you so much for this award. I feel so validated to actually be nominated for one of my worst character traits! I should talk fast, since I know we’re all probably running a little late!” The crowd chuckles. The crowd checks their watches. “But I just want to thank my high school years for giving me a true disdain for waking up before the sun rises. I also want to thank Starbucks, without which I would not be able to function! Thanks and God Bless!”

What’s My Age: 13-18, when my mother woke me up every single day and dragged me out of bed in time for school.

Terror at the Wheel

Basic RGBOccasionally for work, I will need to rent a car and drive myself to wherever we happen to be shooting. This should be “no big deal”—I’ve had my driver’s license for some time, and used to drive at least 2 hours a day when I was commuting. And “driving” is actually a nice word for it….it was more “speeding like a maniac while listening to Fleet Foxes, crying, and honking my horn at obnoxious motorists who didn’t understand my plight.” In those 17 months, I talked my way out of 4 speeding tickets, stashed at least a dozen parking tickets in my “special file” (the garbage) and wore out two sets of brake pads and three tires.

So driving for work really shouldn’t be a problem, but since I’ve moved into the city, the thought of driving—especially with a coworker—has filled me with a paralyzing anxiety. The last time I was on a work trip, I drove so cautiously and felt so ill that not even twenty minutes into the drive, my coworker suggested we stop for coffee and then took over the wheel for the rest of the week!

You’d think being a native New Jersey-ian and a veteran commuter, I would relish the luxury of driving instead of having to deal with public transportation like I usually do. But I’ve become a terrified old bat, begging to be chauffeured and complaining of an ulcer after a simple trip to Pennsylvania. The open road waits for no one, so they say!  ….But it’s going to wait for me.

What’s My Age: 87, a New York dame with a car-service on speed dial.

A Regular at Last

Basic RGBSo it finally happened! After hundreds of dollars, gallons of caffeine, and endless moments spent deciphering how they possibly heard my name that way, the barista at Starbucks remembered my order! I don’t know whether to be excited or horrified, but I feel like I’ve earned a stamp in my New Yorker passport!

I’ve unfortunately become one of those people who “can’t function” without their coffee, and who “need their fix” on the reg. While I’m less of a caffeine-ophile in the winter, I just love a good iced coffee in the warmer months–specifically a Venti-Sugar-Free-Vanilla-Ice-Coffee-with-Room. Doesn’t that just roll off the tongue? And sure, it may be getting chillier, but I’ve gotten so used to what has gone from a “treat” to a “necessity,” that even the comforting (and constant) smell of pumpkin spice lattes wafting through the streets is no match for my venti delight!

Well it may be time to cut back….another day at the same Starbucks, and the beverage will be waiting for me! I suppose my wallet will be happy without it, but my psyche will not. Is it too late to fit in at least a tall???

What’s My Age: 18, getting through my first college finals week, living off of nothing but coffee and a determinate will to succeed!

Nope.

Basic RGBYesterday, I made yet another fashion faux pas when I wore a giant crystal cocktail ring to work. Maybe it was because I don’t usually wear flashy jewelry, or perhaps because it resembled a (incredibly ostentatious) engagement ring, but no less than six people asked me if I was recently engaged, including my boss! Um, I am not. Maybe my sarcasm sensors need tweaking, because I couldn’t really tell if they were joking, or if I just have a lot of insanely rich coworkers that see a ring of that size and barely blink! And for the record, it was $2 at Forever 21, so props to them for making something that apparently appears realistic!

Regardless, I guess I’ve entered into an era where it wouldn’t really be out of the ordinary to wear a ring on “that” finger. Judging by the number of wedding invitations and engagement parties I’ve been invited to this year alone, I think that’s enough of a clue! Just last week, six of my Facebook friends posted engagement and wedding pictures. And most devastatingly, my middle school-graduation day crush just tied the knot last weekend! Dreams….destroyed.

So I think the lesson here is to stop spending money on fake jewelry, because the emotional damage far outweighs the cost. And it also turns my fingers green.

What’s My Age: 12, pretending to be “engaged” while wearing a bread twist-tie.