Don't Hate Me 'Cause I'm Indie and You're Punk

Good Girls Don't Wear Sequins

Ok, now that we've gotten all that talk about FEEEELINGS out of the way, let's have some Real Talk about the awesome shit that comes with being a BiSC attendee. This (maybe not so) flattering picture of me was taken by my roommate/favorite person Dominique in our fancy Flamingo Go Room which had a MOTHEREFFING tv in our bathroom mirror. Guys, I don't have cable (YEAH, I SAID IT. LOOK, I WAS RAISED WITHOUT TV SO YOU CAN GO SIT IN THE CORNER AND JUDGE MY PRETENSION WHILE I JUDGE YOU WATCHING DANCE MOMS AND WE CAN ALL BE HAPPY WITH OUR JUDGE-Y LIFE DECISIONS). I don't even know what to do with a tv in the bathroom mirror, we turned it on once while we were doing our makeup, it was confusing. See also: comfiest beds ever and multi nozel shower.

WARNING: The Go Rooms and the regular hotel rooms at the Flamingo are really not the same. I stayed in one of the regular ones in January and it was actually kind of more like Motel 6 quality. So don't go booking hotel rooms at the Flamingo and come bitching at me because you got the cheap option.

At the bottom of the bed is my giant pile of SWAG. Missing from the giant pile of swag: the free drink by the pool coupon sponsored by GelaSkins. It's missing because that wristband means I just came back from the crazy Flamingo Go Pool. Which is the adult pool. (No, not THAT KIND of adult pool) As in the pool where the booze is. And the fancy VIP day beds. And the waterfall to swim under and then end up in a nifty grotto. Also, where we played never have I ever for toys from Babeland. Are you wondering how things could get more ridiculawesome? So was I at this point. Pool day already seemed like the best day of my life but then IT GOT BETTER.

One word: ZUMANITY. Sexy Cirque du Soleil. Hilarious and amazing and naked. Also incredibly disturbing. Well, only the crazy contortionist that kept popping things out of sockets and shit was disturbing. I actually had to cover my eyes. Then dancing, dancing, dancing. Happiest when dancing in sequins and 4 inch heels. Until I'm tired of the heels and have to switch to sandals. Whatever. Happiest when dancing in sequins.

Wait, did I say happiest when dancing in sequins? I might've meant happiest when wearing sequins and eating waffle fry pulled pork nacho... I don't even know how to describe these, but Sara and I managed to start a trend that apparently had like 40 people eating these piles of amazingness the next night. Seriously, what is happening here? Why did we each order our own plate? This is insanity. Also, this is 3am.

HI, now it's time for sleeping.

In case you are unaware, breakfast is my favorite meal. by which I mean, breakfast foods are my favorite because I almost never eat breakfast. So buffet time on Saturday where I got to eat bacon, sausage, french toast, waffles and potatoes was pretty much my idea of heaven. I may've also made it boozy thanks to mini bottles of Skyy. The only thing better than regular brunch is boozy brunch.

The next epic adventure was to the roller coaster on top of New York New York that Alberto insisted did not exist (SPOILER: it exists) but for some reason agreed to join Dominique, Kelly and me in walking to the other end of the strip to go on it. Or to prove us wrong. I 67% think he was hoping to prove us wrong. I really love roller coasters, but also am unable to keep my eyes open on roller coasters which probably defeats the purpose of going on a roller coaster on top of a hotel. BUT WHATEVER, I went on a roller coaster on top of a hotel because that's the kind of shit you do in Vegas right before you play Pac-Man battle royale and the world's biggest version of fruit ninja. Clearly I chose the right group for the afternoon. For those of you playing along at home, at this point I have gone multiple hours without booze in Vegas, a situation I find mildly intolerable because apparently I'm really easily over stimulated which doesn't mix with Vegas without alcohol. BUT DON'T WORRY.

Thankfully Minus 5 ice bar had us covered for the afternoon. Sadly we weren't allowed to take any electronics in or I'd have fifty million pictures and have tweeted so many clever things. Or just talked a lot about how one of the rooms made me feel like I was in Narnia because of the trees etched into the ice. Did I mention that everything was made of ice? And have I ever mentioned my lifelong goal of staying in an ice hotel? This did not lessen my desire to stay in an ice hotel. We had our picture taken in a giant ice throne so that we could yell "King in the North!" but it turns out most people sit in the giant ice throne to get a picture with the Vegas sign because when we came out the woman was all "oh, you have the picture in front of the Vegas sign" and we were like "what are you talking about, lady?" because we thought we took our picture on the ice throne and are possibly too nerdy AWESOME to notice Vegas signs . Oh well.

(Side note: I'm kneeling in a really short skirt in an ice room because I was sitting the same way as Alberto and Kelly and the photographer said "You need to sit in a more flattering position, can you kneel?". And I wanted to say "Whoa dude, just how badly do you think I want this photo?" but I hadn't finished my second margarita so I wasn't feeling quite that sassy yet.

Post side note: the drinks, which were served in ice cups, rocked my socks)

More buffet. More eating all the Le Bon Garçon caramels in my gift bag. Then slowly getting ready for the Mad Men party. Where, you know, NBD, we just skipped a giant line to get into Chateau, the club on the roof of the Paris hotel from which you can see the Bellagio fountains go off. It was only so awesome that we all had to take a minute to tweet/facebook/foursquare/etc about it. That's all.

I mean, how adorable is everyone in their 60s duds, on their phones? It's pretty great. Anachronism win. Cue more dancing. Have I mentioned that I like dancing? No, really, I really like dancing. I need to go dancing more (at all) in New York now that I work normal people hours. Who wants to be my dancing buddy? Let's just go ahead and assume this girl does.
Yes, this is kind of an awful picture because it was dark and we were using the front facing camera, but I don't even care. And now we've reached the point where this post is just going to devolve into pictures. You're welcome.

I don't even try

I don't know what I'm passionate about right now. I feel hollow all the time. I'm never hungry but also never full. In February I decided to stop fighting everything all the time but I guess in my case that just makes me apathetic. Or numb. I can't even tell which.

I've been trying to learn to sit with my feelings more. Or rather, just to actually feel them. To be able to say to myself things like "I am sad that this boy doesn't like me even though it's not logical to be this sad about it" or "even though I completely understand and agree with the reason I'm losing my job it's reasonable to be sad and scared and anxious". Maybe this is the way you feel feelings all the time. This is not the way I feel feelings. Look, there's a reason Spock has always been my favorite. However, you'll be shocked to know I am not a Vulcan, even though I sometimes often act like one. The problem is that by the time I actually let myself feel things I'm feeling this huge reservoir of feeling and I can't identify where each one is coming from.

So I can tell you right now that I am sad and bitter and disillusioned; that I just suspended my OkC account for the eleventybillionth time though in truth I've been on an online dating hiatus for a month now already anyways; that none of the job listings I've read make me want to send in my resume; that I made out with a boy I had no intention of ever making out with again and I honestly don't know how I feel about it, I want to say I feel nothing about it but I don't think you can actually make out and cuddle with somebody that you like and not have feelings about it and I think it's actually that the feelings are too complicated and too many things and so I'm not sitting with those ones yet* and that I'm well aware there is some major grammatical craziness going on in this post but I just don't give a fuck.

But I can also tell you I've had moments of peace and serenity lately. That walking around in Central Park with the sun on your skin and new friend is happiness. That nighttime rambles with a flask size bottle of whiskey and friend you haven't seen in a while are kind of great even if they unexpectedly kiss you later. That I do have one single job interview lined up and it looks perfect for me. That I spent yesterday at my pastry cook's friend's home out in Fresh Meadows and got to hang out with her siblings and large friend group and remember what it feels like to be part of something stable and solid. That I have a week packed full of social activities with other BiSC goers who are fast becoming my close friends.

I can tell you that I've recently realized that I'm angry at myself for letting go of and being less vocal about things I care about to make myself more palatable or to fit into groups better. That I've taken my philosophy of "pick and choose your battles" a little too far. Hi, I'm Alana and I am a feminist and I probably don't think any of your sexist/homophobic/racist jokes are funny and yeah, I'm generally ludicrously PC and I'm ok with that. JUST SO WE'RE CLEAR.

So maybe it's not that there isn't anything going on. Maybe it's that there's too much going on. Too much swirling around in my head for me to sort through it and feel any of it. Today I decided I was just going to fake it until I make it. I cleaned my room, I did some yoga, I ate an entire pineapple and also quinoa, poached chicken, black beans and avocados. Fine... also an entire bag of cadbury mini eggs.

Baby steps back to caring people, baby steps.

*This is how I feel: I feel sad and a little angry because it was nice and it was comfortable and making out and a cuddle buddy were exactly what I needed this week and it wasn't expected so it was a nice ego boost but it wasn't with somebody with whom I am actually ok with casually making out and cuddling. So, I'm sad that it's not something I get to do in a non-casual way and a little angry with both of us for doing it. And maybe a little angry at myself for not being over him even though I said earlier it was ok to be sad. God I hate feelings. THEY DON'T EVEN MAKE SENSE A LITTLE BIT, CAN I PLEASE BE A VULCAN NOW?

Bits & Pieces (the second)

Social Life/BiSC:

In the last week, I met Adam, Sara and Bob, which means, along with Rachael, Dominique and Nicole, I have met 10% of the people I'm going to Las Vegas with in May. And I have to say if everybody is both as awesome and attractive as those six in real life, it's going to be the most overwhelmingly amazing experience I've had in a long time. Also, I'm really gonna have to bring my A game.

I made some moderately stupid decisions in the last week so that I could meet those people. And by moderately stupid, I mean I went out twice in the last week once knowing I was getting sick and once knowing I was still sick and should be sleeping instead. The result was working with a fever last Sunday and feeling likc if I had to stand for one more second past ten hours of work I might die for most of the week. But you know what? That's the great thing about being an adult. I consciously made those decisions knowing they weren't the best idea and I accepted the consequences and the only asshole to blame was myself. And then I spent pretty much all of yesterday in bed, spent today at AMNH and wandering through Central Park, came home, took a nap because that's what my body said we should do and pretty much feel like a human again. So I think, overall, worth it.

CA v NY:

It turns out you can take the girl out of California, but you can't take the California out of the girl. My pastry cook is giving up cigarettes, soda and fast food for Lent and everybody tells her it's crazy while I'm like "that's awesome, it's really not that bad". And not to pat myself on the back for not having bad habits I never picked up, I just call that normal life. I think most of my friends back home do too. It still weirds me out that the chefs I work with eat fast food. In fact I'm so not used to people eating fast food (with the obvious exception of In'n'Out) that even non chefs eating fast food surprises me. I mean, this week I'm concerned that I'm eating organic yoghurt from humanely treated cows and bread made at a coop because they come all the way from California and I think that's a perfectly normal way to think about food. I guess it's all relative to what you're used to. Hella NorCal, yo.

Boy Stuff:

I really will make out with anyone when I'm drunk. Pretty sure Sara asked me if I would make out with like 5 different people the other night and I said "yes" everytime. Sober me would not have said "yes" that many times. Sober me is now back in charge of my love life. The "don't get drunk on the first date" rule that Michelle gave me is now in effect. Despite being single for a whole year my friends have been shocked the last few weeks when they've asked about my dating situation because there currently is none. At all. Haven't gone on a date in three weeks. There are no boys that I'm currently regularly sleeping with. (I know, it's weird for me too) I am however, currently writing 6 paragraph messages to a guy on OkC that I genuinely want to be friends with. Or more. But most of the time when I go on dates from OkC I'm kind of forcing myself and I feel like I'm putting myself in such a contrived situation because I don't know if I would always go on dates if I had met the guy IRL whereas this guys seems like somebody I would actually hang out with in the real world. So that's possibly exciting.

New Year's Goals:

I'm currently losing weight at a rate of approximately two pounds a month. Did you know I was trying to lose weight? Probably not. Mostly because I think it's the most boring thing ever to read about on other peoples' blogs and because I'm a small person I feel like people will want to punch me in the face if I complain about my weight. But look y'all, I'm a chef which means my weight has actually been somewhat of a constant struggle since I went through culinary school. It also means part of the reason I don't weigh a lot more with what I eat is because I am on my feet cooking for ten frakking hours a day and lifting fifty pound sacks and running up and down the GD stairs. Anyways, with some portion control and stopping to make myself eat actual food instead of just randomly putting whatever cookie is closest at hand in my mouth when I realize I'm starving, I'm slowly but surely losing weight and starting to feel a lot better about my body and not hate the way every piece of clothing I put on fits. Which is good, because I really don't have enough money to buy a whole new wardrobe.

Dairy is the devil. I've gone back to pretty much cutting it out entirely and feel so much better on a day to day basis.

I'm still obsessed with Blue Print Cleanse juices but have mostly just been incorporating them into my regular diet instead of going all out cleanse. I would like to do another three day cleanse soon though.

Random shit:

I read all three books in The Hunger Games trilogy in two days. I would've liked it better if they hadn't been written in such a way that it only took me two days to read them. This is why I don't usually read YA books. Good stories aren't enough, I want to read that sentence that rings so very true my heart aches, that expresses an emotion so perfectly I'm knocked on my ass. I will say that it was a good story and will probably make a pretty enjoyable movie.

Best for last: My new work schedule is 10 am-8ish pm which means I might get to have a social life again. I've only had it for a week, but I think I might love it. I'm still alternating between having Sunday/Monday off and Thursday/Sunday off, which is really weird but the new hours might make it manageable.

Sunshine and breaking in my AMNH membership

Work Hard, Play Hard

It's a weird thing when the image of what younger you thought your life would be and your life actually line up. Teenage me though adult me would be a confident, single, career oriented woman, hopefully living in New York. Adult me went through several incarnations and ideas of what life was going to be, none of which fit quite right before finally, becoming that woman teenage me always hoped I'd be.

Of course teenage me also hoped we'd be stage acting or somehow working in something related to international relations and that Corina and Lara would be nearby always, but though the specifics change, the essence remains the same.

Sometimes I spend so much time focusing on the things I still want to improve, I forget how much I've accomplished. The ways in which I've changed to become that person that is somewhere between the person I think I am on my worst days and that person I'd ideally be. That person, that is the most realistic version of myself.

I was a strange combination of a bookish and athletic child. Soccer, gymnastics, volleyball, tap dance... and at recess I'd walk to the cafeteria while unable to put my book down. I grew into teenagerhood an odd combination of somebody that was comfortable speaking in front of large organized groups but a little lost socializing at parties or when meeting new people. Shy, but opinionated, which mostly just makes people think you're a bitch, it turns out. My young adulthood wasn't much different. I used to wish I could be the kind of person that didn't care about everything, the kind of person that could be ridiculous and lose control. The kind of person that just met people and presented themselves in a way that said "hi, here I am, take it or leave it, but either way, I'm probably going to get drunk and have a dance party and I think it'd be pretty fun if you'd join in".

At some point in the last few years, I became that person and it especially solidified in the last year of being in a new city and meeting new people. I am not always a silly drunken party girl that will dance at the drop of a hat (sometimes I'm a completely sober party girl that will dance at the drop of a hat, ask Sara) but at some point I stopped being the person that hid quietly in the corner kind of wishing they had a book. I've had a life, and I have things to say and I want to meet other people that do too and that live on the crossroads of taking life far too seriously and "wooooo!" which it seems, is almost everyone in New York, so at least I'm in the right place.

I've been told I'm on the better side of my 20s now, where everything stops being so crisis-y and starts to solidify and fall in place. Where you stop giving a fuck about the person you're supposed to be and just start being the person you want to be. I think I'm starting to believe it. I think I'm starting to get it, whatever it is. I think stability was a good word choice for this year. And I think I like this person I've become, weird dichotomy of super responsible/super serious and party girl and all.

Summer Morning Coming Down

I made you a mixtape. You can't skip tracks if you stream it, and that makes me happy. Sorry.

It's only available for seven days though. Someday I'll figure out how to perfect the playlist system.

It's pretty low key.

Go stream/download it here

Bits & Pieces

Social Life:

I'm not doing a full museum tweetup recap this time just because I really don't have as much to say or as many pictures to go with it. The imaging stuff was cool, but pretty technical so I really don't feel like I could do it justice, unlike the big bone room (no, it won't ever stop amusing me). However, I did make more internet friends! Fuck yeah, internet friends IRL. Some of them even live in Astoria. All of them are awesome and we had a Doctor-Who-a-thon.

I think that it's probably good that I spend some time with non food service people so that I remember how the rest of the world lives.

Work:

I got offered a pastry sous chef job for both a restaurant and a bakery (no, I wasn't job searching) and I took it. Start date has yet to be determined but obviously won't be until August. I will have better pay, more normal hours and be cooking with a lot of my friends. Down side: Longer commute and possibly awkwardness that I got the job when other people have seniority. What can I say? I'm good at my job.

ALSO DID YOU SEE THE PART THAT SAYS "PASTRY SOUS CHEF"?!?!?!?

I mean, yeah, I've technically held the title of "pastry chef" before, but I was only in charge of myself and eventually one kitchen assistant, it doesn't count in the same way.

Life in General:

It's not so much that I want to go home as I want the California Coast to move here. I actually really can't see moving back home anytime in the near future. Or possibly the distant future. I don't know, I'm really happy here most days (even when my schedule feels like it's killing me) happier than I've been in a while. I feel like I'm truly basing my decisions on what is best for me in a way that I never managed to do at home no matter how I tried and mostly striking a successful work/life balance.

Plus, I've become an inadvertant morning person whose pretty damn cheerful most of the time.

I'm sorry, I kind of hate me too.

Side note: Does anyone else feel like it's hard to write anything meaningful when everything is going well?

Boys:

I don't know why I find OkCupid so overwhelming, but every time I reenable my account it takes a week before I'm like "Oh my god, too many messages. What am I supposed to do with these?!".

Things I'm good at: Flirting with one boy at a time IRL

Things I'm bad at: Flirting with ten boys on the internet

Also, apparently I'm really good at filling out my profile because I've literally only gotten one response that had nothing to do with my literary preferences. Also, all the boys wear glasses. And live in Brooklyn. ALL OF THEM. Thank you for confirming that I have a type OkC.

But I really do find it overwhelming.

AND I think I'm kind of crushin' right now.

 

Alana Goes to Boston, Part 2

So probably one of the reasons Sarah is my soul mate is because she says things like "OH! We have to go to my favorite socialist bar, you'll love it!". Sadly we were too tired to actually go into her favorite socialist bar on Saturday night, but we did walk by and it's definitely on my next time I visit list. Yeah, that's right, two Irish Jew girls are going to go chill out at the socialist bar in their Banana Republic heavy wardrobes. That's just how we roll. Probably because when we were in high school Sarah said something like "all my dad's side of the family went to socialist Jewish Summer camps" and without batting an eye I was like "Yeah, my great grandfather told off McCarthy" and then we were inseparable.

Anyways...

Right. Recapping Boston.

Sunday we had AMAZING brunch with possibly the most pretentious person I have ever met. He spent an inordinately long amount of time talking about grad school and the tax law related research he was doing and then turned to me and said "So what do you do?".

"I'm a baker"

And I wish I had a camera to capture the look on his face. The only response he could come up with was "oh" and it was kind of like he had discovered some brand new species and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. Most of the time telling somebody my profession garners responses more along the lines of "Can you make...", "I have a brother/uncle/sisterwife that's a pastry chef at..." or "That's so awesome". That was the first time anyone had seem dumbfounded that they had met a real life baker. But the guy did have fruit, ricotta and honey for breakfast while Sarah and I were eating pesto, chevre, bacon and egg sandwich goodness, so really, what can you expect?

Plus side: Free meal, because obviously, us ladies couldn't be allowed to pay. Whatevs. I'll take it.

After breakfast I learned that the Harvard Natural History Museum is crazy. There's just stuffed animals and skeletons everywhere. I'm entirely unclear about the organizational logic. I guess most of the time when Sarah brings people there they get really disturbed because it's so many dead animals in such a small space so she was really excited to be able to explore farther due to my exceptional looking at dead animals stamina. Yeah, It's basically like if all of AMNH was stuffed into three small rooms and some hallways. But with less dinosaur bones and a bigger Lestodon. At least I think it was bigger, I can't actually back that up for sure.

I mean there's just an elephant head stuck on top of a case of unrelated skeletons. What? Who's in charge of curating this craziness?

Sunday afternoon was dedicated to walking through Boston commons and downtown Boston. Also to choosing things for the other person to try on at H&M. This isn't at all travel related but it did lead to a lot of jumper and skorts outfits. They were pretty terrible. It was fun.

Home for siesta, which is probably another reason I love Sarah- we had afternoon chilling out and reading time each day.

Sunday evening I went to a party where I met a bunch of her friends who all had much more normal reactions to "I'm a baker," though a surprising number of them had never met a baker before. This seems really weird to me, but I do spend almost all my time around other food service people, so that might have something to do with it. Also, I'm pretty sure I consumed an entire bottle of two buck chuck by myself. It's been a while. Does that stuff actually have alcohol in it? I'm not really sure it does, because normally when I consume an entire bottle of wine I am a) fairly drunk and b) hungover the next day and neither of those was true.

And I will save accidentally walking into historical reenactments for Part 3, because I need to go be irresponsible and possibly pull yet another all nighter now.

 

I've got a twelve sided die

So I have a problem guys, and no, it doesn't really have anything to do with that glass, I just wanted to show you how pretty the white wine sangria Michelle made for last night was. The problem is, if a boy starts a conversation with "So I was watching Star Trek the other night and thinking of you..." and that leads to an hour long discussion of various episodes and seasons and series, and then that leads to discussing the darkness at the end of the David Tennant Dr. Who seasons, I'm probably going to sleep with him. And by "him" I really just mean Mark. I suppose if I knew other boys that wanted to stay up until four in the morning alternatively talking about crazy families, cats, Julia Child and science fiction TV shows, I would probably sleep with them too.

Actually, I'm not really sure what the problem is.

I had a really great time talking to Mark last night (the first time we had had any one on one time since he called things off) and then slept with him and now he's gone and I am ok with all of those things. I feel like I should have some sort of anxiety about what it means or what's going to happen next, and I just don't. So I guess the problem is that I'm not overthinking or overcomplicating things which is pretty much the best problem ever.

So that's awesome, and I probably still have a brain tumor. Or was replaced by an alien. Or something. Because I keep being ok with everything.

Everything is really fucking ok.

I am not a pretty girl, that is not what I do

I have about five different half finished posts in my head, so this might be one of those nights where a bunch of completely unrelated things all go up.

I've been meaning to write a post about my relationship with my hair for a while, but then I read this over at Off Our Chests and I didn't want to be a copycat. My feeling are so different though, I'm going to go with it anyways.

This is what my hair looks like right now. To me it's a giant unmanageable mess. (sidenote: IRL, I like my smile, in pictures I only do half the time, I don't know what the deal is, but that's why I never seem to be smiling). It's soft and pretty and feminine. It's even red right now instead of its usual black, so it makes me look even softer. I had a hard time placing exactly what it was I disliked about myself with long hair so much until Ms. Mae was visiting the other week and pointed out that it made me look soft, not like me. Yeah, I like shoes and pretty dresses, I wear make up and spend my entire life in the kitchen but I swear like a fucking trucker, I put the "dead" in deadpan, drink whiskey and I state my opinions like a man, as in, with any sort of confidence at all.

I am often very gender typed and, underneath my brusque exterior, I like to think I'm a pretty sweet, caring person, so why does it make me so uncomfortable to actually look that way?

In my head I have a short, black pixiecut, sometimes an A-line with blunt bangs. Haircuts I associate with women with confidence, that mean business. Women, that, as my coworker described me, have an edge to them. I work in a man's world, and fuck, we all live in a man's world and growing up I was always a smart girl, a nerdy girl. I think I'm afraid that if I look femme I won't be taken as seriously, even if I still don't often act that way. To a certain extent I think it's true, when I think about the way I've been treated, it seems men find me more approachable and act in a less threatened way when there's a mass of curls around my face. Probably a lot of women unconsciously pick up on that (and obviously other societal cues) and stick with it. I'm not one of those women. I'm not comfortable in a place of non-threatening softness. In my head softness leads to looking like an easy target or somebody to victimize. I'm a take the offensive and show you right up front who I am sort of gal with a fair number of control issues and while this may be totally weird of me, short hair gives me confidence like a pair of killer heels.

So tomorrow, it's going to be gone.