Better to have loved and lost than...OH SHUT THE HELL UP!

You know the things that people say that are supposed to be wise and maybe give you some comfort in a time of need? Ok, fine...a broken heart...
Point in case:

• It's better to have loved and lost than never have loved at all.
• If you love something, set it free...if it comes back to you, its yours...if it doesn't- it never was.
• Never chase love, affection or attention. If it isn't given freely by another person, it isn't worth having.
• Being strong sometimes means being able to let go.
• Don't cry because its over, smile because it happened.
• The song has ended but the melody lingers on.
• True goodbyes are the ones never said or explained.

As the go-to/non-licensed therapist of my friends I, myself, have repeated many of these sayings time and time again. Man...when you are on the receiving end of them...they fucking suck! Especially that last one...no wait...that first one...no, the second one...ugh...fine...they all sting...and linger...man do they linger!


Let me start off by saying I am a strong woman. I have been flying solo for six amazing years now! I don't have to worry about being kicked in the middle of the night, sharing the remote is a thing of the past, making meals that I hate because someone else loves them is a foreign concept and I won't even get into the joys of going where I want, when I want with who I want without having to worry about someone elses feelings. But I suppose...after six years I was due for something. There's been little inklings of things over the years...but few and VERY far between...and none of the tidal wave magnitude I just endured.


We'll call the initiator of said tidal wave...I will call him Eduardo. Yes. That works. Eduardo and I have a history 15 years in the making. There was this semester of world history, back-to-back desks, notes, whispers (and the inevitable scoldings) where something was born...sadly it died before it got a chance to live (mysteriously thanks to Eduardo). Sufficed to say I was a teenage girl and therefore it left me pretty wounded...and eventually scarred. Over the years a mutual friend of ours had kept me updated to his progress through life (moved away, college, girlfriend, house, engaged and then marriage). The last update I (a newly single Gabbie) received was five years ago when he welcomed his first child into the world (damn...check that one off the list). Fast forward to last year. He joins the social networking site...Bookface and asked to be my buddy. I giggled but said yes and we began chatting once again...much like we did fifteen years ago but in a much more grown up way. Life, children, love, loss, extreme sarcasm and a general sense of "hey, you're still pretty fucking cool!" All was well in the world again. My scars were healing as I took solace in the fact that he was a good man, great dad, happy and healthy...I was able to prove to myself I didn't always have poor taste in men. His friendship and that confidence was good enough for me.


This past summer his posts began to take shift in focus and turn in happiness. I messaged him asking if things were alright. He informed me he was going through a divorce and despite his positive nature...he had his weak moments and Bookface was the easiest moral rebuilder from time to time. I didn't know the details and didn't ask...I just tried to be a friend for a friend in need. I was OK with being friends dammit! FRIENDS! In October my progeny and I changed our names (long story for another post) and he didn't know the back story. He messaged me asking questions and the next thing I know we couldn't stop talking...the entire day. Mind you...I WAS OK WITH BEING JUST FRIENDS! But phone numbers were exchanged and that's when the tidal wave began to build...


For the next month Eduardo and I were in each others world's all day/all night long. The calls, the texts, the emails, more calls, the thoughts, more texts and endless amounts of smiling and laughter. (For the record, he dropped the ball 15 years ago because he owned up to being scared of girls and sex...for which I do believe is true...and is NOT the case now) Due to our distance and kids we had to work logistics in order to see one another. But we were both up for it and each made our efforts, with pleasure. I was following his lead...it just felt...right... My life went from 0-120mph in a matter of moments. The tidal wave was hitting...I was, we were, falling...into deep, DEEP waters...with UNDERTOWS! FUCK!


And then silence. The utter silence. The tidal wave hit...and was gone almost as fast as it came. I'm sitting here stunned and...and...hurt. Why? What happened? Why can't he talk to me about whatever it is? This ISN'T the man he became! This ISN'T something he would do! I, for the first time in a long, long, time- trusted someone...HIM...and he bails without reason?? But...but I was SO careful! I look back and I can't think of anything I could have seen that would have indicated this was a possibility. If there was...I would have never, EVER introduced him to my progeny...my progeny who has a heart bigger than AND more hopeful than mine! But I did...and when that progeny talked about folding laundry for four people, my heart broke a million times more.


There you have it. See? A fucking tidal wave with a broken heart left floating on shore in the exiting tide. I know in time I won't be bitter (or at least AS bitter...let's face it....he's done this TWICE now) and my progeny will be fine. I will take the comfort from friends (and the stupid fucking sayings) for what they really are...wise and delivered with love. Eduardo touched my heart and rejuvenated the idea of love, family and life for me...even if for just a little while. I guess, on that note...I end with THIS saying:



Life's a BITCH. HMPF!

Not again...

To be 28 years old and not know who the other half of your parental lineage is frustrating...to say the least. But to have it be a vague, nearly impossible to solve mystery adds to the frustration. Then there's the lacking any sort of photo when you are a spitting image of this "mystery man" that tops it all off. I have once again started the mission to find out where I came from. Being 28 and having some more resources than my last attempt gives me some hope...some being the key word. My mother is still not very forthcoming on her details of who this man is or the real story behind the rise and fall of their relationship. I have never really felt truth behind what she has told me...and when you review the details- it really just feels like she is setting me up for a dead end and is keeping the truth all to her controlling self. "I don't remember his birthday"(yet they dated over the course of MANY months, traveled together and managed to make a baby); "He was a German over here on a work visa...but was wanted for tax evasion and mentioned not wanting to go back there when the visa was up...he mentioned Canada..."(so he wasn't a US citizen, didn't want to go back to Germany and could very well have fled to Canada, Mexico or been hauled back to Germany?!); "I believe he was born in the Black Forrest area of Germany" (oh so now you remember his birthplace but cannot remember his birthdate?!); "He was a wine sales rep...but I don't remember the company name. He left there and went to work for Amway" (greeeeaaaattttt- now you're telling me he sold wine for a company you cannot remember the name of only to leave and go work for one of the largest independent sales companies in the states...nice); "I don't have any contact information for him (but I thought you said you called him and asked him for money?!); "I filed for child support with Anoka County but never heard anything." (how does one A) file for child support without birthdate or visa information B) not have the copy of the record that child support was filed for?!?); "I told him I was pregnant and he wanted nothing to do with me." (but wait...I heard Uncle Don met him when he helped pack the moving truck for you moving back to Minnesota?!?!); "Cousin Jennifer took pictures but they didn't turn out." (how nice...but how unrealistic! You never had ANY pictures yourself?! WTF? Then the ones that someone else took- DIDN'T TURN OUT?!? WTF??!!)

As you can see- I have been set up for failure in this search. After going through what I have gone through in the last four years I know how my mom feels and acts towards men she isn't to keen on. If that's any indication of how she treated the man that is my dad- well I can guess what happened and why he's not around. But that is just not fair and not her position to have control of any more! Granted, I am an adult now and finding out that he helped her move proves he knew she was pregnant (which previously I wondered if it was never brought to his attention) and he has never once tried to contact me...he has his share of faults as well. At this point I am just searching for closure. I want to see who made me. I want to know my family history. I want to know if I maybe have the siblings I have longed for out in the world somewhere. I want HIS story. I don't expect a relationship...but if one developed...it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. I want to know that he exists dammnit! At this point he is a figment of my imagination! The only concrete evidence I personally possess is my DNA. And that just isn't enough for me.

Who needs a man when you have...HOT CHOCOLATE.

As you can see my blog title is "Empire State of Mind"...Empire being the Empire State Building in NYC. Normally the term would be "New York State of Mind" but since there is a new song out by Jay Z & Alicia Keys with the other title...I thought it was a new twist on something old. Kinda like fashion. Which is me...in a nutshell.

I was going to write about my hot chocolate and how it relates to New York...but due to some recent occurrences, I think I will write about hot chocolate AND New York.

New York. If you know me you also know that I am a fish out of water being here in Minnesota. Five years ago I made the transition of being an administrative assistant at a lame brain family run appraisal company (which taught me NEVER work for a family owned/run business EVER again) to a die-hard sales rep in the fashion industry. It was all by chance but every bit of it...for a reason. The transition started here in MN but after a year- and some serious dedication- a job offer and relocation to NY. I was... In. Heaven. I didn't get to live in the city because it is a well known fact that the NYPS (New York Public Schools) suck. There are a few gems out there...but you have to live in neighborhoods that I could not even begin to afford to attend them. Vlad was about to start school...and my son comes first...so Jersey it was. Yeah yeah yeah...dirty Jersey. I know. But you know what- the schools there- AMAZING. And there are trees, and parks, ocean front beach houses, boardwalks, and public transportation...it's not as bad as everyone makes it out to be. Back to the subject at hand...

I was in love. And the people...sooooooo nice! I didn't have one horrible snotty encounter! They were kind, helpful, caring, hard working and willing to take a chance on me. My days consisted of commuting into the city via train (about 35-45 minutes) on the NJ Transit Montclair-Boonton line into Penn Station, walking six blocks to 39th & Broadway where the company showroom was located...working...then repeating the process when going home (but occasionally adding in a stop at Macy's, H&M or the various shoe stores on 7th Ave). It's hard to depict what I felt while I was out there. It was a ginormous bubble of opportunity. Streets that went for miles, beautiful parks that lay in the middle of a metal & concrete kingdom with a good blend of antique and new age design, hustle and bustle of appointments to get to, packages to deliver, movie sets, waiters moving at the speed of light (and with that food that makes you melt), celebrities in their natural habitats, diversity and culture around every corner, fashion at its best and shopping...ohhhh the shopping! I was meant to be there...to find myself and learn.

In the end, being there is what provoked serious change in my family- all for the better- and then in the end- my return back to Minnesota. I learned so much about myself in those three years of being there (which is an entirely different post to come. And just so you know...it's true- if you can make it there- you can make it anywhere!) Even though I left before I was ready- I am thankful...and happy. You see- I didn't leave because I had had enough...I left because I was caught in between a rock and a hard place. I learned the hard way (per the usual) that this industry that I had such passion for had some very dark, evil, kick you while you're down sides. I learned that as much as I loved what I did- unless I was with the right company with the right product- I was miserable. I also learned that unemployment does not always pay 50% of your income which in-turn, does not allow you to pay your rent when you are a single parent living on your own...w/o roommates. I was able to leave on a bittersweet note. I admitted defeat on the job front but yet I wanted more. I left loving that city even more than I did going out there. I could have left angry, upset, hating it...leaving because we never quite meshed as a duo- but we did and I was just able to accept that I needed to be done. For now.

People ask me if I miss it. My answer each time: "Every single day...multiple times a day." Which usually follows asking if I will go back out there. My answer: "Yes...when I can swing them-long weekends...and maybe more long term when Vlad has grown up and moved out." I'm no dummy. After what we have been through I know he needs to be here. He needs family (what little he has). He needs his brother and sister. He needs to not have his mom over-worked and miserable in a crappy sales job to just keep a float. I get that. And that's why I admitted defeat. Granted, moving & settling back in Minnesota is going down in the record books as one of the most stressful and rocky returns home ever...we are still better off learning the lessons that we did and being in the mental state of mind that we are now...rather than what we could have been.

Which brings me to what my original subject was...hot chocolate.
So when I started working in the city- my boss introduced me to this place called Pret-A-Manger...he actually introduced me to a whole lot more than some retarded breakfast/lunch chain with locations all over Manhattan...minor things like: NY, company paid travel, sushi, sales bonuses and even what its like to have all of that removed & revoked...for no good FUCKING reason. Anyway - ahhhhh Pret...sweet sweet Pret. The place that provided me with nourishment & hydration for three years. Its funny- out of all the places to suggest for people to visit when in NYC- this is one of the FIRST things I mention (after it comes Serendipity iii on the Upper East Side, Lazarra's Pizza on 7th & 38th, Balthazar in SoHo, Chinatown and Century 21) . Its affordable, organic, quality, on nearly every block and amazing. And lets face it- a 12oz, $3.00 spectacular latte in NY- unheard of! At this point- unheard of even in Minnesota! Anyway- I am not a huge coffee person- but I did enjoy their lattes (with 2 sugars and extra foam) from time to time. Now what I loved- their HOT CHOCOLATE. You may think its silly to love a good cup of hot chocolate- however- I do not. My passion for HC started when I was a young girl and had some outside of Daytons in downtown Minneapolis after a viewing of the 8th floor holiday show. It changed my life. My mom learned it was Ghiridelli and even though we bought the powder...somehow the excellence of the cup outside that day was never repeated. Until I landed in NY and went to Pret. I am not 18 anymore and in turn- a bit more forgetful so I actually can't remember my exact first cup this time around- but I have a vivid, spectacular, life changing memory of Bryant Park, the ice skating rink, my iPod, a warm Pret harvest cookie and a Pret cup of cocoa.

Since returning to MN in April 2008, I've found go through bouts of depression not being in NY. I cry at any given moment watching Sex and the City, Castle, Law and Order, Elf, Home Alone 2, seeing FB posts and other randomly triggered NY memories. One of them has been the lack of that hot chocolate...so I took on a mission. I called it Project: Fill-My-Cup. I have spent the last year and a half trying to get either the hot chocolate itself or supplier info out of Pret. They would not budge. At first I started with corporate...and after they shot me down...a couple of times- I randomly started calling the locations that I visited. I think I have talked to six of them. The last one...the diamond in the rough. I am not sure if the manager was annoyed or, frankly, just didn't give a shit but after a short conversation and a tiny bit of begging...she said "all I know is it says 'Equal Exchange'" and then she practically hung up on me. I uttered- "thank you...I will work with that!!" and she was gone. Moments later I found the website and was on the phone with a customer service person...BAM- confirmation was made and I was ordering. When the agent- Sharon- heard my address got excited and said "Oh- St Paul huh?! We have a warehouse there!" Yep- my hot chocolate right in my city! But not just right in my city...3 BLOCKS away!! By 4pm that afternoon I was picking up two canisters (with a third complimentary canister of their spicy cocoa to try) and a 1/2 gallon of milk. By 8:30pm my New York mug was filled with chocolate goodness and I was in my happy place of NY in my mind...albeit by proxy...through a simple, delectable cup of cocoa.

So- New York...here's to you...and all that you have given me...and all that you will continue to give until the end of time. CHEERS!
"In New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made of,
there's nothing you can't do, now you're in New York,
the streets will make you feel brand new,
big lights will inspire you, let's hear it for New York"

Make average great.

First of all I would just like to say that I hate that Ellen is on at 9am here in Minnesota- I am at work damnit!! This really hinders my ability to get my daily fix of comedy at its best! How do I petition it to be on at 4pm instead of 9am?! I realize that it is on CBS and that is Oprah's time slot...but can't it be moved (Ellen that is...I know Oprah is stuck in cement at this point)??

Twice this week I have come home to catch some reasonably entertaining episodes of Oprah. First it was her shoe/bag intervention (which of course this means nearly every audience member got some shoe/bag tutorial and the item to take home!). After learning how to wear heels when you have cankles and Cole Haan sporting Nike Air sole technology...I learned that my over the knee boots (flats of course) that I bought 3 years ago are now the "it" boot of the season- which further proves my trend setting abilities. However- between you and me...I really don't think its a trend that everyone can pull off...just sayin'...

Anyway- the other episode was having a few celebrities go back to work at their first jobs for a day. Martina McBride came from a DQ, Kirstie Ally started out as a house cleaner but quickly turned her house cleanings into interior design projects and Suzy Orman worked at a diner. Both Suzy and Oprah said somethings that really stuck with me.


1. If you make average great your dreams will become reality.
How amazing is this statement?! For soooooo many different things in life too! For me it stands out most in my current job. It's nothing huge, or important, or high paying...but somehow I managed to make it great and its paying off. The residents in my building tell me weekly how much they appreciate me. They tell me I make them laugh. They tell me that the way things are now compared to my predecessor are like night and day in such a good way. Best of all- they tell me they LOVE my writing! And you know what?!? I love helping them. I love making them smile. I am happy knowing I am doing some good somewhere. I still miss aspects of my fashion career but the fact that I have taken a run-of-the-mill office job and made it...great is a dream come true! (of course this does not mean I will remain in the job forever- but I am content...and for right now- it works)

2. Putting a child to work at a younger age makes them appreciate the value of the dollar throughout adulthood.
SO TRUE! I started working when I was a kid...babysitting. When I turned 15 and was told I could work a regular job (restricted hours and shifts but work none the less) I started and never turned back! First it was summer job at friend's family's assembly line plant. When the summer was over I was off to Blimpie Subs/Bridgeman's Ice Cream. I am 28 and have now been working for 17 years! Have I bought some pretty retarded things (yeah- a black light isn't really a must have) gotten myself in some predicaments since then (never EVER co-sign for anything!! ...and sharing bank accounts?...not-a-chance!!!) hell ya! Do I appreciate everything I have earned, how I have spent it and the lessons that have been learned in the process?...oh most definitely- YES. The other thing it did...it set me on the path of independence. Working is a part of life. But working...to support yourself...and create that life for you- that's one of the best gifts you can give yourself.

3. How you treat other human beings tells everyone who you are as a person (or something along those lines).
In other words- if you treat people like shit- you are probably a shitty person. If you treat people with honor, kindness and respect- you are probably a good person. I don't think this needs more words than that.


Moral of the story kiddos?! Sometimes Oprah and Suze have smart things to say and interesting things to learn. Shocking, I know...but true.

Introduction

Ahhhh- the modern day journal...the blog. I must say- the journal will never die...it has been around since the dawn of time and will be until Earth is no more...in fact I have already printed out versions of previous blog posts and placed them in a handwritten journal (I tried to maintain) just so my documentations are all together. But in this day in age-we rely so much on technology...and typing is soooooo much easier- the revolution of the blog has taken over. I would like to say maybe one day I will truly get into doing it the old-school way but let's be honest...it's very doubtful.

I don't expect anyone to read this...but talking to something- getting it all down- somewhere- feels good so here we go.