Moving to NYC has been an amazing experience in so many ways. I can't believe it's been almost 3 weeks since my last blog post - time flies like crazy when you're having fun. There has been so much going on in my life, job applications, dating, friends visiting, visiting family, and on and on.
With everything that's been happening, I feel like I'm right on the brink. Of everything. I'm on the brink of finding an amazing job... or on the brink of finding a mediocre job for now with an amazing job in the works on the horizon. I'm on the brink of finding a fantastic man who inspires me intellectually, keeps me giggling, makes me feel beautiful, and gives me goosebumps, who wants to be in a relationship. I'm on the brink of almost figuring out exactly who I am and who I want to be and coming to terms with all of that.
The other night I went out with my bff Lauren who was in town, and my roomie Matt. Lauren went home either to get pretty and go out with a local man that she met via online dating or to go to sleep because she and Dominic left early the next morning. Matt and I were at one of our favorite local haunts, Branded. I sang a couple of very raspy karaoke songs (and got a compliment from a nice old lady who said, "Even though your voice is blown out, I could tell you sing well and I look forward to seeing you back here once you recover.") and ended up sitting at the bar with Matt and my favorite bartender at Branded, Alex. Alex has this amazing ridiculous white-man-afro thanks to his Italian roots and hipster tendencies. I have never really wanted curly hair, but dang, I do admire a good head of curly hair. ***I interrupt this thought to mention that I found my first grey EYEBROW hair yesterday. What?!?! My eyebrows are now going grey!? Not cool, body, not cool. Carry on with your previously scheduled blog.*** So Matt and I somehow get to talking about life and jobs and my hormones and the whiskey got to me and I had a good ole bar-cry.
For those of you who are reading this blog because my life is way different than yours and you don't know what a bar-cry is, let me enlighten you. A bar-cry is when you sit at the bar with a good friend, probably with a glass or two of wine or beer or in this particular case some whiskey (I'm learning to love the brown stuff again) and you talk about a sensitive topic and tears come to your eyes and you surreptitiously wipe them away when they fall down your cheeks as you deep share with your friend about life and its meaning and how your favorite boots gave you a blister the other day and you feel betrayed.
But seriously, I had a fantastic chat with Matt and he listened and asked good questions and gave me supporting comments while I talked about some of my deepest fears and frustrations and got really vulnerable. Alex was kind and let me and Matt talk and eventually joined in and also had some great words of advice and encouragement.
One of my greatest strengths is also one of my biggest weaknesses. I put bad or negative feelings away in a file drawer in the back of my mind, so that I can push forward and survive and stay positive. This works well when I have little bumps in the road, but I have been unemployed for six months now and I have a lot of negative thoughts in my head and I needed to get them out. I absolutely feel and know that this move to NYC was meant to be and I am destined to be here and my experience, knowledge, and skills will be put to use in their very best way soon enough. But there are moments where I feel intimidated, useless, lame, like a loser, dumb, lame, all of these horrible negative words that are not true in the least bit. I am a powerful, smart, vivacious, gregarious and passionate woman and I know that I am here for a purpose.
Megan made a good point to me the other day, my career thus far has been pretty great, progressing fast and furious through the years. I mean, I was a Vice President at Bank of America before I was 30 years old. Sure, there are a bunch of VPs at BofA, but it was a significant accomplishment and I will always be proud of that. Megan also said to me, "Maybe this is just your time to be humble, to start over, to reevaluate and remember what it means to work hard." That really resonated with me. Maybe I was just too cocksure of myself, maybe this is God's way of saying, "Whoa girl, I gave you talents but let me remind you of where you started." Whatever His plan is, I'm fully open to it and I'm ready to get back to work.
I am a little superstitious right now so I won't share all the details, but today was a day full of great progress in regard to jobs. And believe you me, this girl is determined to make her mark on NYC. This great city needs a joyful, obnoxiously optimistic, honest, meticulous Californian and this city needs her bad.
These days, getting a job is top of my mind. But I'm still enjoying every moment here with Megan, Matt, our friends, and even extended family that I'm meeting for the first time. My depression is completely gone and I feel strong, happy, determined, and I know I'm right on the brink. Keep those prayers coming, because everything is about to fall into place.
Showing posts with label California. Show all posts
Showing posts with label California. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
NYC: Taxes, Men, & French Carnival Rides
Happy October!! I. Love. October. From my head to my toes to my inner being and outer shell, I love this time of year. Best month of the year! Bold earth tones, candy, costumes, celebration, the beginning of the holidays, pumpkin everything!!
So this is one of the many blogs that I drafted with good intentions, but something happened in-between my keyboard and pillow that I can't quite explain. Fortunately there were not many edits needed to update the setting of the post: I want[ed] to blog about three thingstonight Sunday night: NYC men, taxes, and Fete Paradiso. We'll start with the taxes because it's it was fresh on me mind.
First, let me reiterate that living in NYC is fantizzletastic. NYC is electric, it's thriving, it's inviting, it's unbelievable and surreally dream-like. Fact: dreams do really come true. =D Everything is different here from the weather and seasons to fashion and men, to the cultures and local fare, to priorities and conversations and taxes. Yes, to taxes. But was it any surprise really? Different state, different tax rates. Duhhhh! But to me, as I tend to be a skimmer-reader, I had obviously somehow missed some crucial information prior to our move about how NY is.....wait for it......a lesser taxed state than CA as it relates to sales and income taxes. Not that it would have stopped me from moving here had I realized that there is both a NY state and NYC city income tax. Truly nothing could have stopped me. NYC was in motion for the Hartman sisters, Rufus, and Mr. Deitrich, that goes without saying.
But when you get down to brass tacks and you compare our two fav states' income and state taxes, you'll see that NY actually does fall below CA and that I was right.......except that I missed the part about NY being one of the only states to impose a city tax for NYC residents. Bah humbug! At the end of the day it's truly only >.2% greater than CA. Then again, why am I wasting anymore time talking about taxes?! Check out the numbers below and let's move on to MEN please! ;-)
So yes, and unsurprisingly so, even and especially the men here are different. I mean I know, I get it. It's on the other side of the continent, it's an entirely different sub-culture of America; everything is illuminated! So that goes without saying that living here in NYC is like being a kid all over again and discovering life, something new with each day. I'm not even kidding you. That's what this all feels like. Being a kid again, but with the logic and wisdom to make good decisions. After all, it's one of the wisest decisions I made to move here. =D Every day here is an adventure, every subway ride an exploration of new people, new behaviors, new sights, new sounds, and all these new-New York men. In my humble and very novice opinion - and some of my male CA friends might disagree, and this is sans my own Father as I am convinced they just don't make men like him anymore - that NYC/Long Island men are more confident, grounded, maybe even go as far to say more serious, but in a good way? They whisper when they talk, they breathe conviction, and they make insanely good and unbreakable eye contact. They speak with fact and they walk with a purpose. It's invigorating and enticing and interesting. And did you know that The New York City metropolitan area is home to the largest Jewish community outside Israel? Grandma Porbanic would smile hearing this. After all, I do remember her sage advice to "meet a nice Jewish boy because he would treat me like a princess". My dreams of becoming a princess have never died.... ;-)
On to Fete Paradiso! First and foremost before I bring the last section to my [long-overdue contribution] posting, let me just point out that what nobody ever talks about when they're remarking on how amazing NYC is, are the tiny islands in and around! It's quite a substantial list! Those I can name off the type of my head are Governor's Island (check!), Liberty Island (check! and, of course), Roosevelt Island, Randall's Island, Fire Island, Ryker's Island (okay, well to be fair, this one's a prison for the most part). This past Saturday we were encouraged we headed out to Governor's Island at the recommendation of a new (and totally awesome might I add?!) local Brooklynite-girlfriend, for the last weekend of Fete Paradiso: French carnival with vintage carnival rides circa late 19th and early 20th centuries. There was a tin-bicycle-powering circular ride that made me feel as though I were a figurine walking around Dad's toy cases. But Fete Paradiso, which literally translates to "girl's paradise" or "paradise feast", I like the latter. But it certainly wasn't just any old carnival though. Fete Paradiso is "the world’s first traveling festival of vintage carnival rides and carousels" and it made its debut on our very own Governor's Island! What a beautiful thing to experience. Insanely magical. All you need to do to imagine just how magical this place was is to pretend you are on a movie set (Fox Lot, anyone...?) and transcend yourself back to the turn of the 20th century, back when times were simpler, laughter was louder, and people were just more, well, dapper. First, get yourself to Governor's Island by way of the free (yes, another free fun thing to do in NYC!) ferry out of Red Hook - if you're a Brooklynite - and if you try, you might just be able to hold your breath for the incredibly short ferry ride to the gorgeous Governor's Island. My. Gosh. I will certainly be returning to this small island latent with such history, such gorgeous architecture, the art, the view!!! The view of Manhattan (and Brooklyn, come on, I have to show some love for my favorite borough) from Governor's Island is out of this world. And at dusk? With a handsome man* and two of my fav NYCers by my side? Priceless. A few pictures below paint a very faint picture of our surreal Saturday. Every Saturday in NYC has been surreal. For real. :-) There are not enough words to describe all the sights and sounds we have been blessed enough to experience already here in NYC. Yet I cannot say enough about it. This is one of those days, one of those memories I will use as a happy place to escape to when work is taking over my psyche. Fete Paradiso, Governor's Island, on the last weekend of September 2013 with a few of my favorite humans. Life. Is. Great. And I think Kel might even have some photos from the carnival swings ride to add.....sis? 8)
*See "nice Jewish boy." =D
Resources:
http://taxes.about.com/od/statetaxes/a/New-York-City-taxes.htm
So this is one of the many blogs that I drafted with good intentions, but something happened in-between my keyboard and pillow that I can't quite explain. Fortunately there were not many edits needed to update the setting of the post: I want[ed] to blog about three things
First, let me reiterate that living in NYC is fantizzletastic. NYC is electric, it's thriving, it's inviting, it's unbelievable and surreally dream-like. Fact: dreams do really come true. =D Everything is different here from the weather and seasons to fashion and men, to the cultures and local fare, to priorities and conversations and taxes. Yes, to taxes. But was it any surprise really? Different state, different tax rates. Duhhhh! But to me, as I tend to be a skimmer-reader, I had obviously somehow missed some crucial information prior to our move about how NY is.....wait for it......a lesser taxed state than CA as it relates to sales and income taxes. Not that it would have stopped me from moving here had I realized that there is both a NY state and NYC city income tax. Truly nothing could have stopped me. NYC was in motion for the Hartman sisters, Rufus, and Mr. Deitrich, that goes without saying.
But when you get down to brass tacks and you compare our two fav states' income and state taxes, you'll see that NY actually does fall below CA and that I was right.......except that I missed the part about NY being one of the only states to impose a city tax for NYC residents. Bah humbug! At the end of the day it's truly only >.2% greater than CA. Then again, why am I wasting anymore time talking about taxes?! Check out the numbers below and let's move on to MEN please! ;-)
California
Income tax: 6.85% (8.82% on income over $1 million) + 3.5% NY city income tax = 9.5%
State sales tax: 4%
PLUS
State sales tax: 4%
PLUS
New York City Income Tax
New York City has a separate city income tax in addition to the state income tax for individuals. New York City income tax rates range from 2.907% to 3.648%.So yes, and unsurprisingly so, even and especially the men here are different. I mean I know, I get it. It's on the other side of the continent, it's an entirely different sub-culture of America; everything is illuminated! So that goes without saying that living here in NYC is like being a kid all over again and discovering life, something new with each day. I'm not even kidding you. That's what this all feels like. Being a kid again, but with the logic and wisdom to make good decisions. After all, it's one of the wisest decisions I made to move here. =D Every day here is an adventure, every subway ride an exploration of new people, new behaviors, new sights, new sounds, and all these new-New York men. In my humble and very novice opinion - and some of my male CA friends might disagree, and this is sans my own Father as I am convinced they just don't make men like him anymore - that NYC/Long Island men are more confident, grounded, maybe even go as far to say more serious, but in a good way? They whisper when they talk, they breathe conviction, and they make insanely good and unbreakable eye contact. They speak with fact and they walk with a purpose. It's invigorating and enticing and interesting. And did you know that The New York City metropolitan area is home to the largest Jewish community outside Israel? Grandma Porbanic would smile hearing this. After all, I do remember her sage advice to "meet a nice Jewish boy because he would treat me like a princess". My dreams of becoming a princess have never died.... ;-)
On to Fete Paradiso! First and foremost before I bring the last section to my [long-overdue contribution] posting, let me just point out that what nobody ever talks about when they're remarking on how amazing NYC is, are the tiny islands in and around! It's quite a substantial list! Those I can name off the type of my head are Governor's Island (check!), Liberty Island (check! and, of course), Roosevelt Island, Randall's Island, Fire Island, Ryker's Island (okay, well to be fair, this one's a prison for the most part). This past Saturday we were encouraged we headed out to Governor's Island at the recommendation of a new (and totally awesome might I add?!) local Brooklynite-girlfriend, for the last weekend of Fete Paradiso: French carnival with vintage carnival rides circa late 19th and early 20th centuries. There was a tin-bicycle-powering circular ride that made me feel as though I were a figurine walking around Dad's toy cases. But Fete Paradiso, which literally translates to "girl's paradise" or "paradise feast", I like the latter. But it certainly wasn't just any old carnival though. Fete Paradiso is "the world’s first traveling festival of vintage carnival rides and carousels" and it made its debut on our very own Governor's Island! What a beautiful thing to experience. Insanely magical. All you need to do to imagine just how magical this place was is to pretend you are on a movie set (Fox Lot, anyone...?) and transcend yourself back to the turn of the 20th century, back when times were simpler, laughter was louder, and people were just more, well, dapper. First, get yourself to Governor's Island by way of the free (yes, another free fun thing to do in NYC!) ferry out of Red Hook - if you're a Brooklynite - and if you try, you might just be able to hold your breath for the incredibly short ferry ride to the gorgeous Governor's Island. My. Gosh. I will certainly be returning to this small island latent with such history, such gorgeous architecture, the art, the view!!! The view of Manhattan (and Brooklyn, come on, I have to show some love for my favorite borough) from Governor's Island is out of this world. And at dusk? With a handsome man* and two of my fav NYCers by my side? Priceless. A few pictures below paint a very faint picture of our surreal Saturday. Every Saturday in NYC has been surreal. For real. :-) There are not enough words to describe all the sights and sounds we have been blessed enough to experience already here in NYC. Yet I cannot say enough about it. This is one of those days, one of those memories I will use as a happy place to escape to when work is taking over my psyche. Fete Paradiso, Governor's Island, on the last weekend of September 2013 with a few of my favorite humans. Life. Is. Great. And I think Kel might even have some photos from the carnival swings ride to add.....sis? 8)
Fete Paradiso propaganda
View of south east Manhattan = Battery Park-ish.
A beautiful day indeed. View through the trees from the 'food court/garden' where we patiently awaited our oysters, crabcake, lemon tarte, pumpkin spice cupcake, bratwurst, and baguettitos, oh, and the sangria!
'Floating Harvest Dome'; part of the continuous outdoor/indoor art exhibit.
Rachel and I were in agreement on this. Indoor art exhibit, not even to the wild installations yet.
The man who ate fire, as we stood in amazement.
My camera does not capture the charm of these toys.
Trying to focus on the motorcycle and peddle car for Pops!
View of her gorgeousness by dusk. Pinch me!
And us. Your favorite Hartman sisters LA > NYC transplants. Keeping it real and reppin' our So Cal light BRIGHT here on the other side of the continent. <-- I just like saying that!
*See "nice Jewish boy." =D
Resources:
http://taxes.about.com/od/statetaxes/a/New-York-City-taxes.htm
Friday, September 20, 2013
Béisbol
Oh yes, the great national pastime. Baseball is one of my favorite sports to watch, play, and talk about. I'm not a huge follower in regard to statistics, etc., but I love the game and when asked I will always go to a game. I'm certainly not as much of a baseball fanatic as I am a football fanatic (Go Texans! Beat the Ravens on Sunday!). Funny... now that I live in Brooklyn, I'm intrigued by the history of baseball a bit more. I think next week I'll wander over to the Brooklyn Public Library and check out a book or two on the subject.
I always have fun at baseball games. First of all, there's the game. Amazing athletes who are paid to play baseball. They are also usually big, hunky men in tight pants with broad shoulders, so needless to say it's not hard for me to pay attention. Speaking of pants...
I always have fun at baseball games. First of all, there's the game. Amazing athletes who are paid to play baseball. They are also usually big, hunky men in tight pants with broad shoulders, so needless to say it's not hard for me to pay attention. Speaking of pants...
I greatly prefer the pants style that the player on the left is wearing. The "old fashioned" version where you can see their socks. The more modern version, on the right, are not my cup of tea. I have a very serious opinion about this.
Besides the beefy men, there's other things I love about going to a baseball game. The peanuts, for example. I don't know what it is, but the peanuts at baseball games are fantastically roasted, incredibly salty, and perfect in every way. They are nicely complimented by a cold, overpriced beer. If I'm at Dodger stadium, a Dodger dog is in order. With onions, mustard, relish, and sauerkraut if they have it. I love the cheesy organ music, the seventh inning stretch, the camaraderie between strangers who have come together to root for their favorite team. Games are in the summer or fall, so being outside in gorgeous weather - ah I love it! Oh, and the bobbleheads. Useless tchotchkes that have no purpose but always seem to agree with me. Yes, Kelly, I agree Kelly, whatever you say, Kelly. They just keep nodding their agreement and approval!
I found a few photos of me at Dodgers games through the years, although this doesn't document every game I've been to. Although, there are rare occasions where I attend a baseball game at another stadium...
Me and my BFF Candace years ago, she got free tickets to an Angels game (great seats so we couldn't refuse). I actually wore red in support of the Angels, a rarity for me. They played the Red Sox and Coco Crisp was playing for Boston at the time, so of course I had to make a joke. So I shouted, "Yo mama so fat she named you Coco Crisp!" Candace and I busted up laughing, but the O.C. fans were all too busy on their Blackberries to even notice how funny that joke was. Lame. I prefer Dodgers stadium even when they're playing the Pirates or some other horrible team.
Me with some of my ZTA sisters back in the day, rooting on the Dodgers in dear ole Chavez Ravine. Christen, Maria, me, Marcy, and Felicia. I love these gals. Marcy has an amazing collection of Dodgers hats, I'm envious every time she posts a photo of a new one.
The fam-bam! We have always tried to go to at least one Dodgers game a year. This particular year, I thought I had scored some bad-ass tickets, but ummmmm we were four rows from the top. Great area of the field, but way higher of a section than I thought. Sometimes I can't read maps well, apparently...
Me and another of my BFFs, Lauren. We've been to a bunch of Dodgers games together and we always have so much fun! We even went on a double date there (triple date if you count our buddy Frank and his date?), which was way fun. The double date was on a night celebrating Tommy Lasorda's birthday, so they let us onto the field (the outfield only), they played Frank Sinatra, and they set off fireworks. My date took my hand and asked me to dance, so we slow-danced around the outfield of Dodgers stadium to Frank Sinatra while fireworks went off. It's a shame that guy didn't work out because that is definitely a chick-flick-worthy story.
These are probably the best seats I've ever had at Dodgers stadium, when I went with Lauren earlier this year.
Megan and I went to our first baseball game in NY at Citi Field in Queens, she took me for my birthday and we had great seats. And of course we wore our Dodgers blue! We sat next to some nice older men (Twins! and a friend. Married and harmless), and they were very curious about us LA girls and why we were in NY and we talked through the entire game, when we weren't wandering the stadium.
Oh, and Lauren... I'll be representing Dodgers blue tonight at the Yankees game versus the SF Giants. I don't mind being that obnoxious person who wears gear from a team that isn't even playing that night. I miss you!
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