So, I'm Not Afraid of People...

This post is going to come off as a little self-congratulatory, and maybe a bit high and mighty, and for that I'm sorry. Just know that I'm not trying to be a conceited brat.

So, I've dropped a pretty significant amount of weight in the last few months. It was never really a conscious decision, just something that happened more or less organically. But either way, I'm looking pretty good these days. (I think, anyway. I know some people will disagree with this, and that's fine, whatever. I feel good about myself and that's enough for me.)

I like this. It's weird sometimes, like when men on the subway stare at me or when construction workers catcall. But do those things make me feel bad or afraid or like I'm being unfairly objectified as a woman? Absolutely not. If anything, they make me feel a little bit better about myself. Blame it on a lack of self-confidence in my important early adolescent years, or a need for male validation because of my relationship with my father (seriously, I'm a psych major, I could give you reasons all day long), but at the end of the day I just feel like I'm being appreciated for the hard work I put in to look good. I also have a lot more self-confidence now than I used to. So I take it as a compliment.

I like compliments (uhm, duh). And do I care if they come from my mom or my boyfriend or my best friend or a coworker or a construction worker or a random stranger on the street? Not at all. To me, I see no difference between a construction worker catcalling and a girl telling me she loves my outfit. They're both telling me the same thing: that I look good, and I should know it.

Maybe it's because I believe that people are innately good and kind and not something I should be afraid of, but I love when strangers compliment me or even just talk to me. That's one of my favorite things, honestly. I'll have a conversation with a woman at the sinks in the ladies' room or a guy on the subway platform or a little kid in line in front of me at the grocery store or even the construction workers that catcall me. It probably has to do with my small-town background, where everyone I saw was someone I had known for years.

But living in New York isn't the same as living in a small town. People caution me all the time about being careful, about looking out for myself, about making sure I don't take the train alone at night. And I listen, usually. I don't go out actively seeking trouble. I'm smart enough to realize that if I'm going out with friends, I should make sure I have company to walk home. But have there been times where I need to get from Point A to Point B by myself in the middle of the night? Yep. And so I do.

There's a certain way that a girl should carry herself when she's alone at night in New York. You've got to walk with confidence and not make eye contact with anyone. I've found that pretending to have a conversation on the phone is a great plan, as is listening to an iPod. At the end of the day, though, if you don't go out actively looking for trouble, you're going to be fine. Very few people want to seriously hurt you, no matter what Law & Order may say. Random crimes are extremely rare.

But there's a very big difference between how you should behave on a dark street, alone, in the middle of the night, and how you can and should act the rest of the time. New Yorkers get a bad rap for being unfriendly, but I don't think that's true. I love talking to people, and I never feel like talking to them is a bad idea or something that'll put me in danger.

Is this bad advice for other girls to follow? I don't know. But I think that as long as you don't behave like an idiot, and you know how to handle yourself (and pick up a few hand-to-hand combat courses somewhere along the way: they're a great workout and you'll feel ten thousand times safer) you'll be fine. Don't be afraid of people. They won't hurt you unless you deserve it. And when those construction workers catcall you, don't take it personally. They do it to everyone.

I'm Not a Very Good "Feminist"

The title of this post probably doesn't really come as a shock to anyone. After all, I'm the one who is extremely possessive of her kitchen (as in, when I'm cooking and other people try to help, I banish them to the living room). I told a friend of mine the other day that it was my fault if he was upset, since he had been in my apartment for twenty minutes and I hadn't made him a sandwich yet. I'm relatively traditional when it comes to my relationships, in that I think the man should be the one doing the majority of the chasing, and every once in a while I like being taken out and spoiled a bit. I find a lot of the posts on traditionally "female" sites to be unnecessarily self-righteous and bitchy. I subscribe to Jezebel's RSS feed, but a pretty solid percentage of the stories I read get me riled up.

Because of this, I've had kind of a difficult time with women, historically. Many that I've met while at NYU are exactly the types I can't stand: constantly preaching about the need for "equality" and "women's empowerment" while still expecting benefits that have been given to women historically but in today's modern society are completely irrelevant and, if they really thought about it, are somewhat offensive by their own frame of reference. An example: I knew a girl who constantly talked about the need for women's rights to progress beyond what they already had. She felt that the promotion of a man to a position for which a woman was also a candidate was horrible, even if the man was better-qualified for the position. When the topic turned from policy to relationships, though, this girl expected a man to be very old-fashioned: hold car doors, walk on the street side of the sidewalk, always pay on dates, ask her father for her hand in marriage.

This girl didn't seem to realize the hypocrisy of her statements. And it's these kind of women that frustrate me beyond belief. They claim to want "equality", but then also want to be treated like little pink damsels in distress.

Now, this is not to say that I don't appreciate everything that feminism has done for me. It's because of women like Lucretia Mott (of whom I'm a descendent) that I have the right to vote. I can wear whatever I want. I can join the army. I can run for public office. I can be as educated as I want. And I'm super happy about all of those things. I know they weren't easy to come by, and I think it's awesome that I'm growing up in a time where I can do pretty much anything.

But I think our society has reached a point where we've gone too far. I feel much the same about affirmative action. If all of these "minority" (and I use the term nonspecifically) groups really want equality, than shouldn't they be subject to the same standards and requirements as the majority? I find admittance and hiring quotas ridiculous: accept/hire the best-qualified people, without consideration of their race, gender, sexual orientation, or any other characteristic.

I remember writing an essay about this subject in my senior year of high school, as part of my college Spanish final (yes, the whole thing was in Spanish, and yes, it was awesome). It sparked a discussion among our class, and we ended up being pretty evenly split. I remember that someone said that once I had "grown up a little" I would feel differently.

Well, it's been over two years since then, and to be honest, my opinion hasn't changed. Maybe it's the moderate part of my typically left-leaning policy positions, but I think that if you really want equality for everyone, then everyone should be treated, well, equally.

A Requisite Social Dialogue.

Today, while at work (because it's not like I actually have anything to do here) I was reading this post on Jezebel regarding the ongoing debate about kids. I think this all started a while back when some parents (in Willamsburg, natch) brought their baby into a bar-type establishment. Since then, there's been a pretty consistent stream of posts on various sites giving opinions on the topic. The big question that seems to be dividing people is: Should parents be able to bring their kids wherever they want? This has gone from, let's be honest, the insanity of bringing your toddler with you to a crowded bar on a Friday night, to people saying that kids shouldn't really be allowed in restaurants or on public transportation (seriously).

Then of course you have the backlash, which is what this article focuses on. It features of lots of long quotes from one writer, who claims that trying to ban kids from certain places is ageism and discrimination, and should not be any more acceptable than telling someone they can't eat at your restaurant because they're a different race than you are.

Now really, people. Get a grip.

This situation makes me think of an amusement park, which is a place where children are accepted and even encouraged to go. There are a lot of rides at an amusement park. There are the big, scary roller coasters, with height requirements. You know why there are height requirements? For safety reasons. Because people below a certain height can absolutely not ride on the roller coaster safely. It's not because the people who run the park hate children and midgets, it's because this is an environment in which they are not safe and should not be in. It's a ride designed specifically for adults, which is meant to be enjoyed by adults.

And you know what they do at amusement parks? They have other rides. Rides that are safe for kids. So that way everyone can have fun.

Now, I don't have kids. And I won't for a long time. But I like kids, and I don't see anything wrong with having them around in restaurants, or walking down the street, or even chilling in the university building where I work (there are a lot of professors that have their kids around occasionally, and I think that's great). And there are a lot of places designed specifically for children: playgrounds, children's clothing stores, schools, etc.

So why can't there be some places that are for adults? If I go out to a club with my friends, I want to be able to get a little crazy without worrying about scarring the small child sitting there. It's not my responsibility at any time in my day-to-day life to curb my behavior because your child is around, and it's especially not my responsibility to look out for kids if I want to swear while I'm sitting in a bar. I don't have a problem with cleaning up my language if there's a kid sitting next to me on a subway, and I shush my friends who won't do the same. I think it's common courtesy to the parent. But don't bring your kid to an environment designed for adults and then get offended when people behave like adults.

That's what babysitters are for.

Party Time.

So Emma's and my collective birthday bash was Friday, and what a time it was.

Richie arrived from Jersey around 12:30, and we went to Spice for lunch and to catch up. Then we headed back to the apartment so I could put a chicken in the oven for dinner, and hung out for a while. We also picked up a cake from Leske's Bakery, a little shop a few blocks from my place. This was basically the best cake I've ever tasted (even though Richie couldn't figure out how to tell the girl at the bakery how to spell my name). People started showing up soon after we ate dinner, and then the party really got rolling.

All in all, it was probably one of the best parties I've ever been to. Emma and I had been a little concerned about the intermingling of our different groups of friends, but everyone got along really well with each other. There were some really memorable moments, such as when Emma and I sang "Monster" to each other at the top of our lungs, when I dumped a full cup of punch in the middle of my living room floor, and when the entire party serenaded us with "Speechless".

I also received some really excellent gifts, such as an awesome muffin pan from Ella, quite a few assorted bottles of things from people, and a T-Rex silly band thing from Steve, which I'm sure will make all the six-year-olds I know very jealous.

The party went on late into the night, and as I watched the sun come up on Saturday morning, I knew it was one for the record books. The rest of the weekend was relatively calm, consisting of mostly hanging out and a lot of sleeping (it was HOT outside!)

But now it's back to the daily grind. I'm going to be getting a lot of extra hours for the next few weeks, since my co-worker is on vacation, so maybe I'll be able to treat myself to some new back-to-school clothes!

Vacation!

So I've taken a full week off of work; something I've never before done, but which was an excellent idea. I went home last Friday, and stayed until yesterday afternoon.

Going back home for my birthday (I can't believe I'm twenty) was exactly what I needed. I've been so stressed out and stretched thin around here that having a few days at home, with nothing to do but eat, sit in the sun, and have fun with my family, was absolutely perfect. I even went into Deposit (very briefly) and stopped into the Big M to see my old co-workers.

The best part of being home was on Sunday, when I went to my aunt and uncle's house and spent the day lounging in the pool and eating summer barbecue food: spiedies, corn, clams, mac salad, watermelon... Summer is definitely my favorite season, and going home reminded me why.

Summer in New York City is mostly about the fact that it's hot (really, really hot) and it smells like garbage. While rooftop parties and adorable dresses are pluses, overall, summer in NYC kind of sucks. But upstate, surrounded by trees and flowers and walking barefoot through the grass around my mom's gardens, you forget about the fact that it's 100 degrees outside, and can only think about how good everything smells and how lovely the birds sound and how nice the sunshine feels against your skin. And there is absolutely nothing in the world better than riding in the car with the windows down, belting along to the horrible country music on the radio.

As nice as being home was, though, Wednesday rolled around and it was time for me to head back to Brooklyn. The trip back was horrific (I almost missed my train, then had to schlep four bags weighing a collective hundred pounds through four subways and three blocks) but I got home to an air-conditioned apartment and a wonderful welcome from Emma.

Tomorrow is our big Amelia & Emma Birthday Extravaganza...and I'm super excited! A lot of people are coming, and it'll be the first time most of them are seeing the apartment...along with being the only time all summer that everyone that's been spending the summer in NYC will be getting together! I spent most of today cleaning (in between grocery shopping and getting a wonderful mani/pedi) and I'm happy to say that the place looks amazing. Here's hoping for a nice clear night tomorrow so we can while away the evening on the roof!

Battle of the Boroughs!

I've been living in Brooklyn for about two months now, and I've really grown to love it. But do I love it more than my first NYC home, Manhattan? Well, let's count up the points and see.

• Monthly housing & food costs: Brooklyn (rent, utilities, and food): ~$850. Manhattan (housing, meal plan, and additional food): ~$2200. Obviously, Brooklyn takes this point.
• Transit time to class/work: Brooklyn:40 minutes each way, on the subway. Manhattan: 15 minute walk. Manhattan wins.
• Monthly transit cost: Brooklyn: $89 (unlimited MetroCard). Manhattan: ~$15 (pay-per-ride). This is a tricky one, because while it's obviously more expensive to buy a monthly unlimited card, it allows me to ride the subway and not have to pay more than I normally would. This point has to go to Manhattan, though.
• Living arrangements: Brooklyn: My own room, full kitchen, dining room, and living room. Manhattan: Sharing a room, kitchen, living room. Point to Brooklyn, hands down. I actually have a kitchen more than one person can be in at a time, I don't have to worry about keeping someone up late at night with me, and I have enough personal space that I don't feel like I'm going to strangle someone all the time.
• Security: Brooklyn: Two locked doors. Manhattan: Security guard downstairs, guests must be signed in. Point to Manhattan, because while it's a pain, I always felt safe (which is not to say that I don't feel safe in my apartment, but seriously, there isn't a guy downstairs making sure no randoms get in).
• Ease of getting people in: Brooklyn: Go open the door. Manhattan: If they're NYU and live in housing, go open the door. If not, though, it's a pain in the ass. Point to Brooklyn.
• Decorating possibilities: Brooklyn: Pretty much anything I want. My own furniture, paint, put holes in the walls, basically do anything I want as long as I can make it all okay by the time I move out. Manhattan: I could put things on the walls! Point to Brooklyn, obviously. I really hate white walls.
• Company: Brooklyn: Two super-chill, awesome roomies who agree with most of my philosophies (i.e., we all usually hate living with girls because of all the unnecessary drama, there's never a bad reason to have a party, certain people are just not worth all the stress they inflict on the people around them, margaritas go perfectly well with lasagna), but who I don't have to share a room with. Manhattan: Totally hit-or-miss. I've had really cool roommates, and then I've had roommates from hell. Another point to Brooklyn.

So, let's tally it up, shall we?

Manhattan: 3

Brooklyn: 5

I guess I made the right choice after all.

Highlight Reel

I know I haven't posted in a while (again)...there just either is absolutely nothing going on, or I'm so busy I don't have a moment for thought. Here's a lowdown on what's been going on lately:

• I painted my living room! It's green. Bright green. Like, almost neon. I love it, though, and luckily my roomies do too.
• I went to the Pride parade, and afterwards wandered through the PrideFest in the West Village. It was a lot of fun (though it was wicked hot that day), and we had a ball. I've never seen so many great-looking men in very little clothing all in one place before, and I've lived in NYC for almost two years (holy cow, has it really been that long?!?!?!)
• My mom and brother came down to the city to bring me my box spring, and we went to the Yankees/Mariners game. We had AMAZING seats, and the Yanks lost, so it was a great day. Not so great, however, was Danny's realization that he really hates NYC (like, more than we thought) and being all freaked out on the subway. He said he's never going to come visit me again, and it doesn't surprise me at all.
• I sprained my ankle last Friday night (me+ballet/gymnastics attempts=injuries; this is nothing new, and one would think I would've realized it by now) and spent my entire 4th of July long weekend alone in my apartment. Sigh. On the up side (actually, I don't know that this is something I should be broadcasting, but whatever), I watched every Judd Apatow movie in our house (this includes Superbad, Knocked Up, and Forgetting Sarah Marshall).
• Both my boss and my co-worker are gone this week, so I get to work 9-4 all week. Which means waking up at 7:30 in the morning. Have I mentioned I'm not a morning person? At all?
• Last Thursday Emma and I went to to get our nails done, and on the way back stopped in at a little consignment shop down the street. I found the most glorious alice+olivia dress I've ever seen, on sale, and I bought it. Happy Early Birthday to me!
• I'm going home in a little over a week, and I can't wait. Four days of celebrating my birthday and lounging at the lake. It's going to be magnificent.
• My ex-teacher (and moving helper) Ms. Jenson got married! Congrats!
• I saw Eclipse (illegally online, of course). Best line: Taylor Lautner tells Robert Pattinson "After all, I am hotter than you." That was the only redeeming part of the film, honestly. That and Kellan Lutz.

Well that's really about all the interesting news in these parts. I'll post more when I come up with an interesting topic (or the next time I'm super bored).