Big City Living, Long Legs and other Personal Problems

Subway Dwellers

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Recently, there have been so many problems with the MTA and public transit that I don’t even feel like talking about it anymore. Check my twitter, it’s littered with tweets about the terrible trains. Examples:

https://twitter.com/LongLegsBigCity/status/1022229438333939713

https://twitter.com/LongLegsBigCity/status/1014131211869057024

Also, if you missed my post about the non-air-conditioned subway of death, check it out. Anyway, enough about the actual trains, for today, I’d like to talk about the PEOPLE I hate on the subway and in the subway station. I try not to do too many “list” posts, but it is required here. This is in no way an exhaustive list; I hate a lot more people.

  • People who don’t know how to use a Metrocard. Fine, I hate tourists, you caught me. But is it really that hard? Not too fast, not too slow, swipe it just right. It’s like the Goldilocks of the metrocard swipe. And for those of you who swipe the card with the magnetic strip up?? I have no words. Have you ever used a credit card? A debit card? A food stamps card? What good will it do if the magnetic strip is NOT IN THE READER?! If you tried twice and you haven’t figured it out, step out of the way, I’ve got places to be!
  • People asking for money. I could do a whole post on this one, but I’ll start with my least two favorite categories:
    • Special category of hatred: SHOWTIME. We know it, we’ve seen it; even the MTA has ads that try to combat these juvenile hooligans that believe the subway is their training center for acrobatics. I happen to like my eyes. Both of them. My nose too. I’d like to keep them intact, and your flying cartwheels are making me think I will not keep them that way.
    • Special category of hatred: man with a drum. This guy pulls out a massive drum, sets it on the floor and starts to retell some long history of drumming. Do I care? No. Has the long history changed since last week? Also no. Here’s the main problem with this particular busker, the drum is LOUD and it shakes the ground! I am here trying to read after a 12 hour day and I really do not need to have my head literally pulsating with each of his drum beats.
  • People who put a cigarette behind their ear the minute the train pulls into the station. I do not need to see that advertised. Also, you’re a bad influence for the children. There are a lot more fun ways to die than self-induced lung cancer via cigarettes. Is it that difficult to wait 2 full minutes until you exit the train and go up the stairs? Or will it take you 4 minutes to ascend due to decreased lung capacity? Either way, just wait. And while you’re at it, pull up an old D.A.R.E. commercial on Youtube.
  • Manspreaders. You have something between your legs. We get it. 
  • Smelly People. Do I really need to elaborate here? Shower and WEAR DEODORANT. It’s really that simple. Obviously I know there is nothing you can do about sweating. It’s 100+ degrees outside. It happens. But please do the rest of your fellow commuters a favor and shower daily. It should be a prerequisite before the subway turnstile. Not sure who would want the job of sniffer enforcer though…
  • People who try to get into the subway car before letting people out. I know, I know, you don’t want to miss your train. But where do you think you’re going to stand if you don’t let people off? Common courtesy here. And here’s a little known fact: they actually won’t leave the station if you’re still boarding the train. This is not Japan. Calm down.
  • People with baby strollers that are so large I can fit in them. Y’all. I am 5’11” and I should not be able to fit in your stroller. If your baby needs a stroller, they should be small enough that your stroller need not take up half of the car. If you can afford a $3,000 baby-mobile/miniature car, then grab a cab. Did you run out of money buying the stroller? Then trade it in. I hear ebay has a great black market.
  • People whose loose hair touches me. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. I have literally offered someone a hair tie before. It is JULY for god’s sake. Please, just tie it up. I am so happy for you that you took your biotin and niacin and your hair is silky smooth, but GET IT OFF OF ME. It is sticking to my sweaty arms and that is not fun for either of us.

That is my non-exhaustive list for now. I have many more people I hate, it depends on the day. Do you have any other particular categories you’d like to hear my thoughts on? Let me know below in the comments.

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Miscellaneous

Ikea Delivery Service, XPO, Is THE WORST

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Good Morning Blog-Subscribers! How was your day yesterday? Was it sunny? Was it cloudy? Did you do lots of cool things? I’d love to tell you how the day was here in New York City but I can’t. Because I was homebound for 9 hours thanks to Ikea’s delivery service, XPO. THEY. ARE. THE. WORST.

I don’t generally use my blog to complain about things unless it really irks me to my core. Example: Soulcycle. But one of the things I hate the MOST in this world is wasting time. I am a born multi-tasker. You may know this since I have a full-time job, a part-time side-hustle, I upkeep 3 Instagram accounts, braid 2-3 people’s hair/day and post on two twitters. The twitter upkeep I don’t do so well. Anyway, as you can see, I am a busy person. I don’t have time to sit around and waste, especially not when I am paying someone specifically to not waste my time. I think I aged 50 years waiting for this delivery.

Let’s start at the beginning, on July 9th, I ordered one dresser. Since I hate wasting time, I decided to pay Ikea to deliver it instead of trekking to the store. Also, I don’t have a car #NewYorkCityProblems. Delivery was scheduled for July 19th. On the 19th, they didn’t deliver. Why? Well, they said it was because I wasn’t home. Here’s the problem with that: I HAVE A DOORMAN. WHO WAS THERE! It would be one thing if Ikea had a “no delivering to doormen” policy, but they never said that. Also, I know for a fact that they do not have this policy because they have delivered to my doorman before. In April. Of this year. But whatever. They didn’t deliver so I had to go online and reschedule the delivery.

I rescheduled the delivery for yesterday the 24th. Already, I was upset because in the age of Amazon I am not used to waiting more than 2 days for a delivery, and I had already waited 15 days! Also, OF COURSE, the only delivery options were Monday through Friday.

The XPO website said I would receive a call with a “delivery window” the day prior to delivery. I was scared I would miss the call. Beginning at 8:30 am, I had my phone on me the entire day. Literally. I brought it in the bathroom with me. Don’t worry, I sanitized it. Do you think they called me at 9 am? 10 am? Maybe 1 pm?? NO. I tried calling the XPO number listed in the email confirmation: (888) 888-4532. Guess what? IT ISN’T IN SERVICE.  I tried looking for a direct Ikea phone number. SAME NUMBER. Fantastic. So I waited.

They didn’t call until 4:32 pm. I should have taken this as foreshadowing for the next day. Hindsight is 20-20.

They gave me a delivery window of 1-5 pm. It could literally not be any more inconvenient. It couldn’t be the morning so I could just go to work after it arrived. It couldn’t be late afternoon so I could leave work early. No, it had to be in the middle of the day so I left work at 12 noon, because god forbid they came 30 minutes early and I wasn’t there. So, I got home at 12:30. And I waited. And waited… and waited some more.

At 4:45, I still had no delivery. I decided I should probably call Ikea or XPO, in case they closed at 5 pm. I had very low expectations for them at this point. However, as I said before, none of the listed numbers were valid. But I did have the phone number they called me from the day prior!

I tried it and after 3 automated menus I got a real person! I told her my order number and she told me I had a delivery window of 1-5 pm. At this point it was 4:55. I informed her of this fact. She told me she would “check on the status” and put me on hold. And I waited… and waited.

34 minutes later (yes, this is an exact number), another woman picked up. She asked how she could help me. I was barely containing my anger at this point. I told her that I had already spoken to someone and asked her to promise not to put me on hold again. She told me she would check on my order, and SURPRISE, she told me that I had a 1-5 pm delivery window. It was 5:33. I informed her of this fact. She told me she would try to check in with the driver. True to her word, I didn’t hear any hold music but I think she put herself on mute. 4 minutes of complete silence later, she told me that my truck had “mechanical issues in the morning” and that they were running on an “extreme delay.” THIS MORNING?? I lost it.

I asked her why, if they had problems this morning, I was never informed of it before I left work. She said she didn’t know.

I asked if by “extreme delay” she meant 7 pm or 9 pm. She said, “9 pm… hopefully.”

I asked, isn’t this delivery coming from Elizabeth, NJ? She said yes. She blamed traffic. I told her that traffic will account for a 1 hour delay. Maybe 90 minutes. Not 8 hours. I told her I could WALK to the store in New Jersey faster. This is a fact, I checked on Google Maps.

I asked to speak to a supervisor. She told me she WAS a supervisor.

She told me that she could tell them to hold the delivery and deliver on another day. I hysterical evil-laughed at her. I asked her how she thought that was possibly a solution.

She told me she would call me again in an hour with an update. She did not call.

I tweeted at Ikea (multiple times). They did not reply.

https://twitter.com/LongLegsBigCity/status/1021899474942271489

https://twitter.com/LongLegsBigCity/status/1021899962697875456

7:26 pm: I get a call from an unknown number. SURPRISE it’s my delivery guy. He is “2 minutes away.” How in the world is that helpful? If I wasn’t home, I couldn’t get home in 2 minutes. And if he had the ability to be calling me, shouldn’t he have done that in the morning? Before I took off of work? I was livid.

Also, they weren’t 2 minutes away, they were 20 minutes away.

When they arrived, I tried very hard not to take my anger out on the delivery guys. It was probably not their fault. But then they asked me how my day was. I couldn’t hold it in. I told them I had a terrible day because I was homebound waiting for them, and I had to order in dinner because I couldn’t go to the grocery store. I had to miss work. One of the delivery guys tried to one-up me by saying he had been outside since 5 in the morning. To which I said, “Ok, well are you getting paid for that? Because I am specifically NOT getting paid because I am here waiting for you.” That shut him up right quick.

They brought in the boxes and left. And I fumed. And I wrote this blog. And now, I will work on my SEO for this piece, so that every person who thinks about using Ikea delivery in the future will find this in page one of their Google searches and will think twice about using XPO. They have a monopoly directly with Ikea, but you can hire someone else to pick it up AND assemble it! Use Taskrabbit! They are more reliable AND have better customer service because their business literally depends on your rating and feedback. Many of them have 5 stars.

I will also be writing to Ikea, attempting to get compensation for the HOURS of my life I will never get back. Hopefully an update will come soon. Although I do not have much hope, as I was retweeted by an account that is literally call “IKEA fucked me too.” Seems like a common problem. They even asked me to sign a petition.

 

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Miscellaneous, Travel

Sara’s Beacon Bachelorette

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This may sound unbelievable to you, but over the weekend, I went to my FIRST EVER bachelorette party! I know, I know, you’re all calling me a hypocrite since I always talk about weddings but it’s true! I am a PROFESSIONAL wedding guest but a total novice bachelorette attendee. I think this is because most of my weddings are out of state, so it is either impossible to attend both the wedding and the bachelorette, or I’m just not invited to the pre-festivities because my friends know I can’t come. In the case of last weekend, it was the opposite! The wedding is out of state, and I can’t go because I’m DOUBLE booked with weddings, and they are on the same day in different states! Since I can’t go to the actual simcha (HEBREW WORD ALERT!), I knew I needed to go to the bachelorette to shower the bride.

Even though this was my first time attending a bachelorette, and it was the least bachelorette-y bachelorette ever. Thanks to the bride-to-be, of course. She is a very low-key gal, and she insisted on no sashes, tiaras, penis necklaces, etc. When asked if we were a bachelorette party, she insisted we were just a “group of girls.” (Cue “Huge Group of Girls” below.) One of them just happened to be about to be married.

Our festivities started at Grand Central Terminal, where all great festivities begin. Clearly being facetious there, but to be honest, it’s nicer than any airport, and it’s less of a hassle because I can carry any liquids I want. Our fearless leader, aka bachelorette-organizer-extraordinaire, aka Arielle, got to Grand Central early and purchased our tickets. We were all miraculously on time, and boarded our chariot to Beacon, NY. Chariot = Metro-North Train.

There were 6 girls total, which is a great number. Not too many girls, but not too few that someone feels left out. Also, it turned out none of us knew each other too well, which was fun! I feel like I got to meet awesome new people, and since we weren’t close to begin with, there were no cliques. Arielle told me she was not a big photo-taker, so I nominated myself to be the picture-taker. I have plenty of practice thanks to this blog. (Do you know how many ice cream photos I took during #30Years30IceCreams?? More than 400.)

Anyway, after taking the obligatory train selfie, we arrived in Beacon, and grabbed a cab to our hotel. We stayed at the Roundhouse in Beacon, which was a very bougie hotel. Unfortunately I did kill a bug on our bathroom, and the sheets had questionable stains on them. But hey, we got money knocked off our bill, so #WorthIt!

We dropped our bags down, and boarded our second chariot of the day, a large black SUV! Arielle had liaised with a concierge-type service for wine-tasting, called Hudson Valley Bucket List. We had our own private driver who doubled as our Instagram-bf for the day (Shoutout Jonathan! Awesome pics!), and they took care of everything. They dropped us off first at Nostrand Vineyards, where we tasted 6 wines, and decided on two to buy to accompany our lunch. Our concierge wine tour set up an adorable pop-up picnic on the lawn behind the tasting. We had private cheese plates, bread, and sandwiches. We even had a green salad. Everything was perfect, besides the heat. But I am basically in a constant state of sweating from May-September, so I cannot blame the wine tour for that. After lunch, I didn’t think I was too drunk but… I guess I was. Because I forgot my phone. I was too busy taking pics, I guess! Double shoutout to Jonathan for turning around and getting my phone. Also triple shoutout to Jonathan, driver-extraordinaire, for having warm chocolate chip cookies for us in the car! Once we picked up my phone, we headed to the second stop: Glorie Farm Winery. This one had a much more rustic feel to it, but it was fun because it had actual grape vines we could pose with. Jonathan came in clutch with yet-another photo opp. We shared another bottle of wine and then packed back in our SUV to return to the hotel.

The original plan was to take a nap or freshen up for 2 hours before dinner. Most of us realized that if we went to sleep, we’d never wake up again, so we went to explore the town of Beacon. We left our one California girl to take a nap, since she had been awake for about 30 hours at that point. We took a (sweaty) walk down main street, looking in the shops, and had a stop at the end for ice cream at Beacon Creamery, much needed by that point. You know I love me some ice cream, especially in new places, and this one did not disappoint! They had a lot of obscure flavors, which is my favorite. I opted for Ginger-flavored ice cream, which was yummy and even had pieces of ginger in it!

We went back to the hotel, SHOWERED, and changed for dinner. Then we walked to dinner, and thankfully it had cooled down a bit. We didn’t know at the time, but that was because it was about to torrential rain. We got to dinner just in the nick of time. We ate at The Kitchen Sink, an amazing farm-to-table restaurant where everything was fresh and yummy! Props to Arielle, our organizer, for making a reservation, because multiple people were turned away! We hung out at the table, trying to wait out the rain, but eventually made a mad dash next door to a wine bar for dessert. The wine bar was… interesting. It had live music so we thought it might be raucous. But no. It was veryyy romantic. And date-y. We stuck out. We didn’t even order wine. We decided to walk back to the hotel in a light drizzle of rain. Another girl in our party had the foresight to call the hotel and ask if they could set aside dessert/coffee/tea for us, and they said they would.

When we arrived at the hotel, there was some miscommunication about the desserts, but the GM had our backs. The main bar area was closed for a wedding afterparty, but he brought us coffee and tea to a side lounge area. He apologized for the miscommunication about the desserts, but luckily we had Jonathan-warm-chocolate cookies leftover that we brought down from our room. 5 minutes later… SURPRISE, the GM found our desserts! The pastry chef had set aside macarons for us before he left for the night. They were delicious! Not as good as the chocolate cookies, but still.

FREE MACARONS!

We called it an early night (I told you it was a non-traditional bachelorette!), and woke up early-ish for breakfast in the hotel. After some frittata, I started braiding. Are you surprised? You shouldn’t be. Remember, it’s my new obsession! Our activity for the day was hiking, so we had to have our hair up and away from our face!

The hike itself was great, but HOT! The humidity was stifling, but the views were worth it. We hiked Mt. Beacon, specifically we hiked the Casino Trail. It’s named after an actual casino that burned down. The cool part is, many of the old ruins are still there and you can climb on and around them! There are also ruins from the Mount Beacon Incline Railway,  which was shut down in the 1970’s. Pretty cool. As opposed to the temperature. Unfortunately, since we had already check out of the hotel, we had to settle for a bathroom-sink-shower. You all should be lucky you were not sitting next to us on the train home. We stopped for a quick lunch at Royal Crepes, which was SO GOOD, and then took an uber back to the train station.

 

The night before the weekend, emoji boyfriend had asked me if I was excited, and I told him I was, but I was also nervous because I didn’t know anyone. Luckily, none of us really knew each other, and we all ended up as friends! One of the girls friended me on Facebook, and it turned out we had 56 friends in common! Small world. I’m totally down for another Bachelorette. Who’s next??

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Miscellaneous

Braid In Manhattan – My New Braiding Obsession

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Helloooo Blog-Readers! I have a confession to make. I spread myself too thin. I love to keep busy, but I have been TOO BUSY. Even for me. And the first thing that I gave up were my blog posts. I apologize but I will try to be better at it from now on!

So… what have I been up to?? A lot of things. But mostly, braiding. A lot of you guys probably just re-read that sentence because… what!? I know, I know, this is not a normal thing to be busy doing. But it’s true.

I started braiding hair when I was 18 and I was a camp counselor at a Jewish camp. I had a cabin of 20 girls, and all of them had a total of 3 hours to get ready for Shabbat Dinner on Friday nights. Inevitably, at least 12 of my 20 girls wanted French braids in their hair. I can remember hours of sitting on the stairs of our cabin braiding hair. By necessity, I got very fast at it. And by practice, I got fairly good at it.

As you may remember from my half-marathon training posts last year, as part of my pre-race superstitions, I also braid my own hair. What I didn’t know was, there is a whole #BraidingCommunity out there on Instagram and YouTube! It was all down the rabbit hole from then on.

About 3 months ago, I started to follow a few braiders on my longlegsbigcity Instagram account. I mostly followed the big names like MissySue, and CuteGirlsHairstyles. Soon, I began looking at hashtags and tried to replicate the braids I saw. I realized I was really good at it. I started to post pictures every once in a while of my braid creations. However, as I started to follow more and more braiding accounts, and I realized that many of my LongLegsBigCity followers probably did not want to see braids on their Instagram feed, I decided to create a brand-new Instagram, JUST FOR HAIR. I asked the Facebook Hive Mind for names for my new account, and I settled on my best friend’s suggestion: Braid in Manhattan. Like Maid in Manhattan! Get it!?

 

CHECK OUT MY BRAIDSTAGRAM! @BraidInManhattan

 

I am not a very artistic person, but I am VERY crafty. Again, something you may remember from my many DIY Halloween Costumes, including the Gum Ball Machine from last year. I found that hair braiding was an awesome craft because the result looked awesome, and the person whose hair you braided got to parade your craft around all day long! (Sometimes they can parade it around for two days, depending on the style.)

Once I created an Instagram, I truly committed to my new hobby. I quickly followed 30 braid accounts, and then followed the people they followed, etc. I really picked up my stride in the month of June, because I found an account JennisHairDays, and she was hosting a challenge with a different type of braid for every day of the month. I dove into the challenge head first. I probably knew about 50% of the braids, and I challenged myself to learn the other 50%! I successfully posted a braid every single day.

The first question people always ask me about my braiding is “how do you get good?” or “how do you know how to do it?” The answers are pretty easy: practice, and YouTube. But also, I have found that my unique skill is not really in the actual task of braiding, but in the recognition from a photo of what the braid is, and figuring it out on my own. Sometimes I cheat by using a YouTube Tutorial, but as I continue to hone my skills, I am able to look at a photo on Instagram, realize it’s a 4-strand waterfall braid with a ribbon, and replicate it quite easily!

The other question I get is: who do you braid? The main issue with my braiding obsession is finding people to braid! Most people in the #BraidingCommunity are moms who do their daughters’ hair daily. I don’t have a daughter. This presents a problem. Thankfully I have a lot of friends who are willing to be my hair models. More specifically, I have coworkers who spend 9 hours/day with me and love to be walking billboards for my styles! I usually spend half of my lunch break nowadays braiding my coworkers’ hair. I love trying out new styles, and they love having their hair done! I always tag my photos with #DeskBraiding.

Speaking of walking billboards, I am in the process of making business cards, so my walking billboards can hand out my contact information. I am also in the process of building a website, and hopefully by next homecoming and prom season, I will be available to do braided updos and make a little bit of extra cash! (New Side Hustle, anyone?) Do any of you out there need someone to do your hair? Your daughter’s? Bachelorette? Bridal shower? Wedding? I remember when I had my hair braided into a crown for Barrister’s Ball in law school and I paid $100!! I don’t plan to charge nearly that much, but even at 50% of that, I could make some nice mulah.

For now, I have been braiding completely free of charge to build my portfolio. I did my two friends’ hair for the Pride parade. I also recently did my coworker’s 11-year-old daughter’s hair for her 5th grade graduation, and she loved it! We met up at Barnes And Noble and I created a mini hair salon in the Starbucks café. I have a portable hair spray, spray wax texture spray, comb, and many many ribbons and elastics. A few weeks ago, I offered my braiding services for a friend’s church event with a panel of women, and they set up an adorable Braid Bar for me.

 

Also, last weekend I went to the Jersey Shore to a family friend’s house where I did her hair, and her daughter’s hair. At almost-4-years-old, she was my youngest-ever client! She went on my Instagram and picked out the style she wanted, plus, of COURSE the colors of elastics and ribbons. Somehow, she sat still for a full 12 minutes and it paid off! She totally LOVED her hairstyle.

I won’t FORCE you to follow my new Instagram, especially if you already follow me on 1 or 2 other accounts (I told you I’m busy!), but I do post pictures almost every single day. And I’m getting better every single day! Maybe someday I will start a YouTube channel and post tutorials, but for now I am sticking with the photos. Spread the word and help me pay off my student loans!

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Fitness

SoreLegsLongDistance – The Second Three of 9+1

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Here we go again, 3 more races down! I have actually finished 7 at this point, but I promised to only tell you about 3 at a time in order to not bore all of my readers. If you didn’t read my first recap, you can find it here. And if you have no idea what I’m even talking about, you can read the intro about #SoreLegsLongDistance, The Road to 9+1 here. Please don’t unsubscribe if you hate running, I hate running, too! I even have a shirt that says so!

Run As One

Date: April 22nd

Location: Central Park

Distance: 4 miles

Pace: 9:45

Drink. Drank. Drunk. TBH there’s not much I can say about this race because I don’t remember all of it. Let me summarize in one word: WOOF. That may not even be a word. More of an onomatopoeia.

The night before this race I had a going away party for two of my friends from Spin class. We went to Royal Palms Shuffleboard club (SO fun), and I had unlimited wine for 2 hours. How much wine can I drink in that amount of time? Unclear, but probably around 2 bottles. I do not remember getting home. I don’t think I’ve been that drunk since I was in college.

Needless to say, that is not the best way to prepare for a race. I woke up on the morning of the race, somehow managed to cook an egg, braid my hair, and stick a Clif Shot Energy Gel Double Energy Espresso in my pocket. I tried to stomach some of it as I walked across Central Park to the start line. I’m not sure if it was the drunken hangover, or the simple fact that the Clif Shot consistency is nauseating, but I barely downed half of it before I threw it in the nearest trash.

Mile 1 went surprisingly well, maybe I was still drunk. By mile 2, I felt like I was run over by an 18-wheeler. I was sweating like crazy, it was warm for the first race ever, and my heart was beating so fast I could hear it in my ears. By mile 3, I think I walked half of it. I ran on the perimeter of the course, and I can’t remember how many times I put my hand in the air to signal to the runners behind me that I was about to stop and walk. I had only one thought in my head: “MUST. FINISH. TO. GET. RACE. CREDIT.” Somehow, I got through mile 4 and crossed the finish line. I had an hour to get home, shower, chug coffee and water, and get to the airport for my work trip to Chicago. It was a ROUGH day. This race made 4+1 complete, so technically half of my requirements for Marathon qualification were complete!

UAE Healthy Kidney

Date: April 29th

Location: Central Park

Distance: 10 K (6.2 miles)

Pace: 9:35

I did it! I really did it. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to complete this one. I hadn’t run more than 4 miles consecutively since the Half Marathon I ran last year. I took 7 months completely off running after that, and it’s been a slow build back. I’m not going to lie, this race was not easy. 6.2 miles is a lot more than 4.

Luckily, I wasn’t drunk/hungover this week, which does wonders for stamina. My heart was definitely beating, but it wasn’t pounding out of my chest, trying to rid my body of bottles of sauvignon blanc. Mini win. However, I went to the Daydream 5K the day before. It was fun, and not a race, but I usually try not to do any exercise the day before a race so I can have fresh legs. Also, I had taken a plane flight in tiny seats the night before the 5K, so my knee was killing me. I slept the night before this race with a brace on my knee, and I took an anti-inflammatory before I left the house. I tried some of the Clif Blok chews for extra energy. Plus, I had gotten them for free at the Daydream 5K. My favorite price! Whatever I did worked; it wasn’t my fastest race, but I was happy to finish.

Central Park is notoriously hilly, and unlike the 4 mile “middle four” loop, the 10K loop goes around the entire park, which includes “Harlem Hill.” It’s about 4/10 of a mile, and about 100 feet of elevation. 4/10 of a mile is a longgg uphill. By the time I finally hit the 5K mark (halfway there!) I felt a LOT more tired than after a 5K distance during a middle four race. Plus, I knew I still had 3.1 miles left to go! I took a bit of a breather to walk, grab water, and mentally prepare for the second half of the course.

With half a mile to go, I looked to my right and I saw a pregnant woman. This was great motivation. I would not be beat by someone carrying another life inside her! If I was only trying to carry my own body, I could pick it up. I checked my watch and noticed I was at 58 minutes and I had a chance to finish in under an hour, my goal! Then, when I saw the “200M to the Finish” sign, I took my brother’s advice and went to my arms. He always says, “your legs have done all of the work, now it’s time to go to your arms!” And I sprinted to the finish. Finishing time of 59:31! Not bad considering 0 training and a distance PR for the year. This race made 5+1 complete, so a majority of the runs were done! After the race, they gave us a medal (surprise!) and I snagged a photo with Peter Ciacca, local celeb aka New York Roadrunners President.

As a celebration, we went to the post-race celebration, and to our huge surprise, Flo-Rida was there! We had heard that the UAE sponsors did not spare any expense and that was definitely true. They gave away TWO all-expenses paid trips to the United Arab Emirates, and the Prince of Dubai was there with Flo-Rida. I tried to sneak a pic in with him, but it’s pretty awkward. Crazily enough, my friend walked out of the park right behind him and he offered to pose for a photo!! Extra nice points to Flo-Rida.

Italy Run by Ferrero

Date: June 3rd

Location: Central Park

Distance: 5 Miles

Pace: 9:35

Well guys, I said I wouldn’t do it again, but I did it again. I went out the day before a race. Not just out, though, I had a birthday celebration! I went to a beer garden, and I had 9 beers. Yeah, probably not the best idea in hindsight. I set myself a 9 pm curfew to switch to water, which sort of worked. I woke up not feeling like an 18-wheeler ran over my head, just a minivan. Maybe even a Honda CRV. It wasn’t terrible, but not ideal.

At least the race started 10 steps from my front door. I was not only on time, I was early! It gave me extra time for my hangover to set in. I SWEAR next race I won’t go out before. Ok, I probably should swear that. Anyway, the race went alright. It was 5 miles, so it was doable, and the weather was great. In fact, I finished with one of my fastest paces to date. That probably is because I have been hungover every race, though. It’s all relative. I was particularly impressed with my pace because I generally try to take the day off of leg work the day before a race, but I had offered to sub a Spin class the day before, so I was on 6-days-in-a-row leg work on the day of my race! #KillinIt

The best part was definitely the post-race celebration. They had a huge raffle, and even though I didn’t win anything, they had free mini packs of Nutella and dipping sticks (think: Dunkaroos but more adult), so I felt like I won.

Total Miles To Date: 26.3

Average Pace To Date: 9:27 (how am I getting slower?!)

Total Free Tshirts To Date: 6

Total Selfies With Post-Race Treats In My Mouth: Too Many To Count.

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Fitness

CycleBar

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Last weekend I went to Charleston, South Carolina to visit a friend. Surprisingly, it was a trip with girls that did NOT include a bachelorette or a wedding. These are few and far between. It’s a true unicorn nowadays in my 30’s. The issue, of course, was… if there are no wedding plans, then what are the plans!? A week before our trip, my bestie and I who were going together started a group text asking about our possible activities. If we didn’t need a black-tie-optional dress, what do we pack?? My friend told me she was planning a full itinerary and she would email us later in the week.

The itinerary included mostly relaxing and flexible plans (pool, beach, happy hour), but the one thing that required pre-planning was a Spin class. There is more background here – the reason I met my friend who lives in South Carolina was because she used to take my Spin classes, 11 years ago, at University of Florida! We knew we had to make Spin happen. My friend was dying for me to try out her favorite South Carolina instructor, Sam, at Cyclebar.

I was excited to try it out because I had never been to Cyclebar. They don’t have any in New York City, but I had heard people around the USA talk about it. From what I had heard, it was a mix of Soulcycle (BARF!) and Flywheel (YAY!). When we got to the studio, the staff there asked where we were from, and told me that our instructor, Sam, used to teach for Flywheel. Already, I was excited. However, we had written to him on Instagram the day before and requested a heavily-hip-hop class and he hadn’t replied, so it was a wild card!

The studio had self-locking lockers, and they wrote my name on the front of the locker to welcome me. They also included a free water bottle and magnet, which I think is supposed to go on your car, but it now lives on my fridge #NewYorkerLife.

The studio itself was awesome. Very modern with stadium-style seating and two huge flat screen TV’s mounted on the wall above the instructor. Also, it said “CycleBar” in red backlit neon lights. Cool touch. I sat in the front row, which is always weird for me because I am not used to being able to see myself in the mirror. When I teach, I generally stare at everyone else! It’s weird to stare at myself. I know I say I sweat a lot, but DANGZILLA. Good thing the lights were turned super low the whole time. Also, good thing the bike next to me was empty because I stole the towel off the empty bike halfway through class. When you’re a sweatzilla you need at least two towels per class.

SO Sweatzilla.

Speaking of the actual class, it started with a warmup to Touch the Sky by Kanye, and Cyclebar Sam played the music video on the flat screens along with the song, which was amazing! I love spinning to old Kanye, despite his recent crazy shenanigans. The music throughout class was awesome. When Sam started playing Everyone Nose by N.E.R.D., I turned to my friend and screamed “YASSSS.” The Jamz. The only thing I can complain about with the music was that it was all remixes and had some EDM mixed into the regular song. My friend’s fiancé said he specifically liked that about CycleBar. It just goes to prove that you can never please everyone. I like to Spin to the original versions of songs so I can sing along to them in my head. To each his own.

I can see why people said CycleBar like Soulcycle, because there were a few times when we did pushups, and tapbacks, and other weird non-spinning exercises. Also, there was an arms section where we used body bars for about 4 minutes. Most cycling studios do this nowadays, although there are mixed reviews about whether it is effective in any way at all. Luckily, Cyclebar Sam didn’t say anything like “spin through the pain and reach Nirvana” or whatever B.S. they are constantly spouting at SoulCycle. (I really hate that place, if you couldn’t tell.) It was much better than any SC class I had ever been to. Also, the monitors on the bikes help to make sure you are never or rarely going above 120 revolutions per minutes, which is one of my least favorite, and least safe things about Soul.

Cyclebar is similar to Flywheel in that they have a leaderboard that shows everyone’s statistics, if you opt in (a little homage to the GDPR regulations). The good thing about the leaderboard is that it isn’t up there the whole class, so it isn’t very distracting. The bad thing is that it isn’t up there the whole class, so you don’t always know who you’re trying to beat! I started out the class in 4th place, but I was determined. Also, I was never sure exactly how much I should be turning the resistance up. At one point, Sam told us to turn our resistance half a turn. Then he told us to do it again. I was at Gear 21, and I was thinking “dang, this is really hard.” Turns out, I was pushing myself crazy hard. My friend who is a religious CycleBar-er said she didn’t even know it went up to Gear 21!

Ultimately, I ended up in 2nd place for the class, behind the one man in the class, a big guy sitting in the back row. I was spying on him in the mirror, vying for first place. Damn you, “Marshall A.”! Oh well. 2nd is pretty darn good. Plus, they sent us our stats to our email after class and it said I burned 965 calories!! HIGHLY doubt that is true, but it made me feel better about consuming 10 Truly hard seltzers later that day! Overall, I’d definitely recommend Cyclebar. The staff was friendly, the atmosphere was fun, the leaderboard makes for friendly competition, and it was a great workout!

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Long Legs and other Personal Problems

Recovering Attorney – 5 years out and 4 years clean

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It’s that time again. Every year, 9 days after my birthday, is my law school graduation anniversary. Ironically, it’s the day after D-Day. Now, it may be a bit dramatic to compare my freedom from law to the freedom of the world and rescue by the Allied Forces, but whatevs. It’s the same for me.
If you read my post last year about being a Recovering Attorney, you’d know I was only working in law for 11 months, even though it felt like much longer. I have finally gotten to a point in my life where I don’t mention being a lawyer when I introduce myself, or when people ask me what I do for a living. Let’s be honest, in New York, it’s the first question out of anyone’s mouth after “What’s your name?” New Yorkers love to ask questions, and in general, we are more brutally honest than in other cities. It is not uncommon to hear 20 people at a party boasting about how they can’t afford their rent. They include figures about their electricity bill, their broker’s fee, everything.
I used to feel like I needed to mention I “used to be a lawyer” when asked what I did for a living. I stopped mentioning it for a few reasons. First of all, the longer ago I quit, the more fake it felt to mention it. I only practiced law in earnest for under a year, so a year after I quit, it seemed silly to mention it. And if you add in the three years I was in school, it was still only 4 years total. I felt it was time to stop mentioning it. But for a while, I still did. If you recall from my blog last year, there are only two good things about being a lawyer: the money, and saying you’re a lawyer. I had already given up the mulah (more on that later), and I guess I wasn’t ready to give up the “prestige” that comes with the title.
Despite my conscious decision to stop mentioning my history as an attorney, it’s often an inevitable topic because it’s tied to so many other questions: How did you end up working for rabbis? Why did you move to New York? Why did you live in Brooklyn before Manhattan? Etc. etc. etc. All answers lead back to law school and lawyering. But unfortunately, the questions don’t end there. I told you, New Yorkers love intrusive questions. Inevitably, once I tell someone I used to be a lawyer, it leads to more questions. For my 5-year-law-iversary, (or 4-year-non-law-iversary), I will tackle some of the FAQ’s I receive. I’m really writing this blog for my future self. In the future, when people ask me unending questions, I’ll just give them this URL.

Really? You used to be a lawyer?

For some reason, this is always the first question. Do people think I’m lying? Is this something funny that people do? Do they think Ashton Kutcher is going to come out and say “JK Emily is Punking You?” I have no clue. I always find this a strange question. I guess some people find it unbelievable. The funny part about people thinking it is unbelievable, is that it’s actually quite common. I have read many times that close to 40% of people with law degrees do not practice law. In fact, some people pair this question right afterward with the statement that they know another person who also quit law.

Plainly speaking, I am not alone. And yet people always ask me this question. Maybe it’s because my “personality” does not lend itself to being a good lawyer. I have heard this many times, too. I try not to be offended by that. What in the world does that mean? I’m not smart enough? That can’t be the case. I graduated law school in the top third of my class, I wrote on the top law journal, I took (and passed) two state Bar Exams… so what is it? When I try to rationalize this in my head, I decide to interpret it that I am too nice. Lawyers are mean, blood-sucking people. (Ok, I exaggerate slightly). This brings me to the second question I am always asked:

Why did you quit?

I could honestly write about this in a post itself. I’ll do a cursory list instead, and maybe fill it in for a 6-year anniversary post in 2019:

  • The people are mean.
  • I prefer fulfilling work.
  • I don’t like to work on the weekend.
  • I don’t like leaving work with the feeling that I’ve ruined people’s lives.
  • The people are really mean.
  • Even waterproof mascara runs after you have been crying for 8 hours.

What did your parents think when you told them you were going to quit?

This is sometimes the third question, but sometimes, it’s the first. I find this incredibly strange as a 31-year-old. Most parents had their own children by now. Some of them had careers they chose to quit for child-rearing purposes. So, shouldn’t they understand if I chose to quit, simply to go to another job? It’s not like I became a hobo. More importantly, aren’t parents supposed to say, “I don’t care what you do, as long as you’re happy?” In theory.

Two days ago, I had this conversation with a woman in her 50’s, and she said exactly that: “I know I’m supposed to say I only care if my kids are happy, but honestly, I don’t know what I’d think.” Here’s the deal: If you have a kid who is so miserable that she calls you crying every day, eventually you’ll agree that she needs to find another path. And that is exactly what happened with my parents. When I told them after 3 months that I was looking to leave the law firm, I don’t think they were thrilled. They gave me a lot of lines about “sticking it out,” and “I’m sure it will get better.” But as the months dragged on and I was more and more miserable, the tears increasing, the misery palpable, and the innumerable job applications unanswered, they finally came around. It didn’t take too many crying lunchtime calls before they realized it was probably best that I left. In fact, they even supported my idea of moving back in with them. It was not my first choice, but with my lease ending and my patience running low, it seemed like a good idea, even though I had not lived with them in 9 years.

It also helped that none of their money went into my law school education or housing, so they couldn’t say I squandered anything monetary. Sure, I squandered three years of my life, but NBD.

I should also note that I have very supportive parents. I’m not sure if every other parent out there would have been thrilled with my decision, but there also comes a point in your life where you have to make yourself happy first. I was lucky that in improving my own life, my parents had my back. Plus, now I work for rabbis. They couldn’t be more thrilled (and hysterical every time I bring up a Jewish holiday or Yiddish word).

Do you miss the money?

People seriously ask me this. I live in NYC where apartments the size of a closet cost $2K/month. OBVIOUSLY I MISS THE MONEY. An article just came out this week announcing that the first-year class of attorneys at big firms in NYC will now make $190K/year. LOL

I’m always completely honest on my blog, so I’ll admit I did not even make half of that as a lawyer. My salary was $84K (including a $1K bonus), and that was before taxes. So the reality is, I don’t make that much less now, percentage-wise. And if you were to divide that by hours worked, I make MUCH MORE now that I work in the non-profit sector (LOL again). So I do miss the money, but it wasn’t much money to begin with. It certainly was not enough money to buy my life and happiness. Don’t get me wrong, a certain amount of money may have bought me happiness, but $84K in NYC is chump change. #NotWorthIt

Also, since my student loans are income-based, I was paying more in loans. That brings me to the next question I’m often asked:

When will you pay off your loans?

GURL. I have no idea. The good news is, I now work in the non-profit sector, so I am a very eager participant in the Public Service Loan Forgiveness program. I wrote an entire blog SERIES about my loans last fall, and I wrote one post in the series about how I am paying them back. If I continue in non-profit, and if I continue to make income-based payments, the rest of my loans will be forgiven in 6 years and 2 months. If I do not continue in non-profit, or if the PSLF program is rescinded, that will not happen.

Also, please note that I said my loans will be forgiven, not that I will pay them off. The answer to when I will pay them off is: NEVER. They are literally growing every month. So yeah. Not happening anytime soon. Good news: they are discharged at death.

Do you miss it?

I already said this, but I did not enjoy anything about lawyering. I enjoyed SAYING I was a lawyer, but I never interacted with people because I was always at work, and the people at work already knew I was a lawyer, so no need to tell them. The other thing I sometimes miss is dressing up. It always felt like dress-up to me. But I did dry-cleaning last week for the first time in 3 years, and I definitely do not miss those bills.

Will you ever go back?

People ask me this all the time. And it’s usually the last question before I curtail the conversation with a swift and resounding NO. Last year, I recounted a conversation with my boyfriend about how likely it was that I return to law. I said 90% no, and he said he thought it would be 97% no. At this point, I think I am a 99% no. I would possibly go back in-house at a firm to do recruiting and career development, but not as a lawyer.

That covers most of the questions I receive. Do you have any others? I’m pretty much an open book at this point. The other question I get, obviously from people who don’t know me, is “should I go to law school.” I already covered this extensively, but, RUN. RUN AWAY FROM IT AS FAST AND AS FAR AS YOU CAN.
Have a great summer, and as you enjoy your time at the beach and in the park, think of all the lawyers slaving away in their recirculated air offices. Even on a Sunday.

 

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Long Legs and other Personal Problems

I Turned 30… Again

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Well guys, another year older, another day added onto my hangovers. Yes, I am now up to a 3-day massive headache hangover that tends to accompany severe dehydration and aching 31-year-old bones. My birthday was last Tuesday, which means I’m almost through with this hangover… until the weekend. I am now officially “in my thirties” and not just “30,” so I feel like I am qualified, in my old age, to impart some of my wisdom about my fellow 30-somethings. What have we learned in these 31 years? Besides to chug 4 glasses of water before bed and limit the sugar in our cocktails? A lot of things. And we know more than older generations give us credit for. (This is another list post, I apologize in advance.)

  • People in their 30’s don’t like being called Millennials. But also we acknowledge that we sort of are. “Millennials” are those crazy people out there who are somehow old enough to drink but were also BORN IN THE 90’S. WHAT!?
  • A lot of 30-somethings don’t know how to change a tire. But hey, you know why that doesn’t matter? Because none of us have cars because we can’t afford them because we have student loans! Oh, and also because no one buys a car nowadays anyway. Also because there’s this nifty thing called google that can tell you how to change a tire. And Youtube where they can show you a video about how to. And all of this can be found on the internet, which can be accessed from a mini computer called a phone that we have in our pockets at ALL TIMES. So the baby boomers can stop with this “change a tire” argument, like, now.
  • Us 30-somethings know that privacy is a thing of the past. Older people watched the Mark Zuckerberg Congressional Hearings and were absolutely STUNNED that Facebook could have and use your information. Us 30-somethings understand that it is just the way of the world and there’s nothing we can do about it. Google knows my coordinates at all time. Amazon knows every time I need to re-order laundry detergent. CVS knows when I buy blonde hair dye for the summer. Instagram knows when I mentioned Mexico in a conversation with my friend. (Ok, I admit, that one was a bit creepy.) I’m not saying that us 30-somethings think this is OK, I’m just saying we can cope with the reality of our world.
  • Separate but related, we understand privacy settings. Yes, this blog is public and the whole world wide web can read my thoughts, but you can bet your bippy that my Facebook is on STRICT lockdown. I would like to be employed far into the future. And no, I do not accept Facebook friends who I do not know. Why would I do that? And yes, my dad is on Restricted. He knows this. So are my boyfriend’s friends! I can’t have them spreading photos of him with his emoji-face all uncovered!! This is the biggest thing that older generation humans should ask for help about. It is far too easy to stalk a majority of people, because they do not understand privacy settings.
  • 30-somethings understand that the key to getting everything done is efficiency and convenience. That means that if it can’t be delivered (and returned), why bother? Amazon is KING and everything worth having can be purchased from your phone. Yes, the physical act of shopping can be fun every once and a while, (plus good cardio! More on exercise later…) but this is a whole event. It takes time – time we don’t have because we are busy working to pay off our student loans. And busy traveling.
  • 30-somethings understand that the world is a huge, vast place, and that we only have one life to live. As we say (or said) YOLO. Therefore, we like to travel. And no, Daddy, it is not a “waste of money.” Older people don’t understand that travel is actually a better way to spend money than having children at 24. It creates experiences, the only thing that cannot be purchased on Amazon. Also, it creates content for our social media. If I don’t post on Instagram about Spain, how will it know to advertise ham to me? Rhetorical question. Of course it knows.
  • 30-somethings do NOT understand that a wedding is a celebration of your love for one other human, and the legally-binding contract, tying you together for life. No, they do not understand this. Somehow along the way of our 30-some-odd lives, it was decided that a wedding is actually a way to bankrupt your friends, force them to travel to places they did not want to go, multiple times for multiple events, force them to wear unflattering clothing, force them to buy you multiple presents, all for the promise of an open bar. (And to those of you without open bars… shame on you.)
  • 30-somethings understand that music will only get worse. Yes, I am the curmudgeon old person, but I will stand by this statement for life: Boy Bands do not get better than *Nsync, BSB AND 98 Degrees. No, One Direction is not comparable. And old people, I guess I can agree that the Beatles had something going on but… still got nothing on Tearin’ Up My Heart.
  • 30-somethings understand that obesity is an epidemic. And even though understanding this has not stopped us from being complete gluttons, we also understand calories, food groups, good carbs, bad carbs, good fats, bad fats, etc., far more than any generation before us. Also, we understand the draw of fitness. The 30-somethings are leading the charge into fitness as a fun outlet, and not just as a 30-minute workout video for women-only, in leg warmers. But also, we understand that a restaurant that ONLY serves fried potatoes with 20 different dipping sauces has the possibility of being wildly profitable, because YOLO.

Speaking of wildly profitable, we are still waiting our turn to make money. I know I am not alone in saying that the “dream” or paying off student debt, owning a home, and feeling financially comfortable enough to have a child… it’s a long way off. Even at 31. But hey, #YOLO. It’s easy to forget about student loans when you’re galivanting around Europe. When I am done celebrating my birthday, I’ll have to tell you all about my travels in Spain. But before that, next week is my 5-year graduation-iversary. I can guarantee you another scathing report on the blog about why you should avoid law school at all costs. 5 years later, still singing the same song. Until next time!

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Fitness

SoreLegsLongDistance: +1 Volunteering

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Quick recap: I’m in the middle of a 9+1 journey to the 2019 TCS NYC Marathon. (Hashtag: #SoreLegsLongDistance). This means that to guarantee entry into the marathon, you can become a member of the New York Road Runners for a full year, complete at least nine NYRR-scored, qualifying races, and volunteer for one. Or if you really hate volunteering, NYRR gives you an option to donate $1,000 to NYRR’s youth and community services programs instead. In case you missed my 3-part series on my massive pile of student loan debt (Part 1, 2A, 2B, 3), suffice it to say, I “chose” to volunteer. I’m 5 races into my 9, although I have only recapped 3 of them for you so far, because I didn’t want to bore/scare away all 5 of my readers. Hi Mommy! Hi Daddy!

Anyway, back to the topic at hand: my +1. Not +1 like “who the hell am I supposed to bring with me to this wedding?!” This is much better. An3.d much earlier. My call time for volunteering was 6:30 am. And it was COLD. But luckily, I live only 5 minutes away from our check-in place. So I rolled out of bed at 6, made an egg for breakfast, and bundled up. According to the NYRR website, they “highly recommend volunteering in the first half of the year, before completing nine races.” They say that it’s because there are many spots at the early races, but also because spots quickly fill up later in the year as many runners (like me!) rush to fulfill their requirements by December 31. I chose the Shape Half Marathon to volunteer because I liked the idea of volunteering at an all-female race, plus, I ran the race last year, so I knew how good it felt to finish and get my hardware!

My assignment was Medals, which I picked on purpose because I would much rather place a medal on the neck of a very thankful-to-be-done runner, than have water thrown back in my face by a holy-shit-there-are-8-more-miles!? runner.

Our first task was to check in and eat bagels and coffee. I did this very well. I sported my highlighter-yellow vest and cute volunteer hat (which we got to keep!) and consumed hot coffee, although it was difficult to decide whether to drink the coffee for warmth inside my body, or just hold it in the cup, to provide warmth to my hands. Luckily, NYRR also gave us hand warmers, which were life-saving. After coffee and bagels, we were presented with 40 boxes of medals, which we were supposed to untangle and hang on medal racks, to make it easier for us to hand out later.

There were about 20 of us on medal duty, so this did not take much time. That was unfortunate because the water station people were short-handed. They saw that we were finished early and poached us to fill cups with water. This was not a fun task. First of all, filling thousands of cups is incredibly tedious. Also, spilling water when it is freezing is not fun. Lastly, this was a much more difficult task than you would think. Here’s why: even though it was 30 degrees, it was late April, which means it was technically spring. Pollen and other gross residue was falling off all of the trees above, and falling into our water cups. I think we spent just as much time emptying pollen from cups as we did filling the actual cups with water. UGH. Luckily our Medal Team Captain convinced the Water Team Captain that he needed all of us for medal distribution (shoutout Bob!) After a quick bathroom break, we lined up at the medal racks, ready to hand out shiny things to the finishers. (Pro tip: did you know there is a not-so-terrible public restroom underneath the bridge that goes beneath the 72nd Street underpass to Bethesda Terrace!? I didn’t. But it is definitely preferable to port-potties.)

I had SO MUCH FUN volunteering. I loved cheering on runners, telling them congratulations, and seeing the looks of relief and accomplishment all over their faces. Their smiles were HUGE! I especially loved when I had an extra second to put the medals around the runners’ necks, like I was crowning them for their huge achievement. Of the 20 Medal volunteers, about 10 of them were women. My favorite runners were the ones who insisted on receiving their medals from the female volunteers. #GirlPower! They said, “I ran this whole race with thousands of women; I didn’t get through the finish line to be congratulated by a man.” YOU GO GURL.

Although you are only required to volunteer once, NYRR encourages you to “give back to the community regularly,” and I fully plan to volunteer again once I’m done running all of these races. It was a great feeling, and a lot of runners thanked me, since many of them have done 9+1 and know what it is like to volunteer your time. Overall, it was an awesome experience and I can’t wait to do it again! Maybe I’ll get some more swag. I still sport my hat sometimes!

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Miscellaneous

The Royal Wedding

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11 am on a Saturday. Who’s tired? If your eyelids are drooping, it’s either because you were out late last night (and you’re probably much younger than 30), or because you woke up at the butt-crack of dawn to watch people who are vastly more elegant than you and me get married. (I mean come on, I just used “butt-crack” on my public blog.)

I’m exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and physically. I set my alarm for 5 am to watch all of the pre-wedding coverage, but God didn’t want that to happen (read: I shut my alarm off because I was like “HELL NO IT’S SATURDAY), and I finally rolled out of bed at 6:34 am. Aka PERFECT TIMING. I turned on the TV and Hoda and the entire Today Show crew were almost sh*tting themselves because the procession, beginning with Prince Harry and William were due to arrive in 8 minutes. Exactly. This thing was more exactly choreographed than the Macy’s Parade. And that’s saying a lot. As soon as the princes emerged from their cavalcade of cars (at 6:42 am exactly), I had tears in my eyes. Or maybe it was just leftover remnants of sleep. Could have been both.

I got up and put on my tiara. You think I’m kidding, don’t you? Well if you think I’m kidding, you don’t know me very well. I love a good tiara. I’m 99% certain I was meant to be a princess. DAMN YOU MEGHAN MARKLE FOR TAKING THE LAST ELIGIBLE PRINCE. Anyway, so there I am watching the princes and other royal family arrive, on the couch, tiara perched on my head. Then, of course, emoji-bf awakes from his slumber and finds me in the living room, tiara and all. Did you ever think that the most embarrassing thing that could happen to you is your boyfriend finding your Pinterest board of engagement rings when you’re not even living with him? I see your Pinterest board, and I raise you this situation. Where your boyfriend finds you on the couch before the sun rises, in a tiara, crying, watching people walk down the street to a wedding. A wedding you have zero ties to. Alas, this is not the first time he has seen me do ridiculous things. He just rolled his eyes and went to brush his teeth.

Let’s talk about the bride’s dress and procession. I don’t need to show you photos because the internet has millions of them already. I absolutely love weddings. But more than I love weddings, I LOVE judging bridal gowns. I can sit and watch a marathon of Say Yes to the Dress for hours and I can say NO to every single one. But Meghan was gorgeous. (Yes, we are on a first-name basis. I was at her wedding, after all!) I love a simple gown, and the boat neck was beautiful. The massive lace veil, together with the stunning tiara borrowed from Queen Mary was enough as far as accessories. I loved the understated complete package, with minimal makeup. The commentators kept talking about how she loves her freckles and wanted them to show. Who knows if that’s true, but it looked natural, which is best, because the look on Harry’s face… UGH. I mean, COME ON. SO CUTE!!! How many memes are going to come from that sparkle in his eyes!? “Get yourself a man who looks at you like this.” I can see it already. I am sure it already exists on the internet. The absolute best part of the wedding was when she walked to the altar, and Harry said “You look amazing.” Then different commentators think he either said “I love you” or “my Heart.” KILL ME NOW. SO ROMANTIC. I’M OBSESSED. CAPS NECESSARY. And the little kiddies behind her holding her train?? UGH. My heart was bursting.

Now to the part I know y’all have been waiting on… my commentary on the actual service. Blah blah blah boring white royal wedding blah blah blah BLACK PASTOR KILLS THE GAME. Yeah, if you guys didn’t see it, go watch it. Bishop Michael Bruce Curry brought the house down. Almost literally. The white people in that room did not know what to do. Now guys, this was the not the first time I had heard a black preacher tell people THE WORD. I know what you’re thinking, didn’t this girl say she was Jewish? Well yeah, but I’ve been around. I’ve been to African Church on Christmas. More than once. And let me tell you something about the services led by black preachers… people don’t just sit there and take it, they stand up and feel the word like it is being delivered straight from god. I was watching Bishop Curry up there talking with his hands, quoting Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and I was waiting for Meghan’s mom to stand up and say “Glory Hallelujah! Praise Jesus!” See below, Meghan’s mom biting her lip trying to keep herself in her seat.

Unfortunately, this did not happen. But it was close to happening. The actual words the bishop spoke were great, about love and fire, and laying your swords down by the riverside… he even slipped in a couple references to slavery and it was EVERYTHING. However, the best part of his address wasn’t the actual address, it was the news cameras panning around the room at the (still-largely-white) guests and watching their faces. They were confused. Panicked. Highly entertained. It reminded me of myself that very first time in black church. And then, just when I didn’t think it could get better, we pan to an all-black gospel choir singing Stand By Me. GTFO. AHHHH SO AMAZING. Stick a fork in me, because I was DONE. Tears, so many tears.

Then came the famous kiss outside the church, which was chaste at best, but who even cares, because the gospel choir was at it again! With Etta James’s version of Amen/This Little Light of Mine. Good lord. That was totally worth waking up at 6 am.

The happy, adorable couple then left in their horse-drawn carriage, on a parade processional a couple miles long, followed by 26 mounted soldiers, in the pomp and pageantry I can only imagine I will also have on my wedding day, because duh, doesn’t everyone? Not to be upstaged by the fabulous gospel choir, Princess Charlotte waved them off, and stole the show entirely. Now I need a nap. Oh, and Oprah, you’re officially invited to my wedding, too.

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