First things first. Follow @theinfamousdome on Instagram. I'm still building the inventory, but it's going to be a strong handle.
I'm at an airport, and you know what that means. I'm going to attempt another Power of the Pen style post, only this time, I have at least two hours, possibly five. My flight to Charlottesville is at 7:45, but I got off work early today - thank you, Founding Fathers, for declaring independence - and I thought I'd try my luck at standby. So here I sit, glass of rose at my side, praying that some soul will be caught in the so-called holiday traffic* - which I doubt exists because it took me one hour from midtown to gate - leaving one empty seat for me. Don't worry, though initially downtrodden, said soul ends up going out in NYC and meeting the love of his/her life. Everyone wins.
Confession: I was invited to a wedding this weekend, and I'm not going. Matt, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. Also, why are you reading this? It's your wedding weekend. Matt is a close college friend, and Maggie's great. I appreciate the invite, and they will get a nice gift from me. My oldest sister prided herself on wedding attendance, but I've determined in my adulthood that it's not my thing. I love a good wedding, and I'll make a reasonable effort to attend, but I'm also of the mindset that the bride and groom are surrounded by so many people who love them, I won't be very missed. Maybe this will change when my wedding comes around, but I really don't think I'll care who comes. Except for my husband - I'd like him to be there.* And my family. And my closest friends. And that person I worked with five years ago who I'm inviting...
Anyways, I could have made the sacrifice and gone, but another part of me just wanted to be home, especially having spent the last five weeks adjusting to new people in a new place.
And cool enough, going to Charlottesville is like going home. I got that "pre-Christmas morning excitement" last night. It's funny how when I was there, there were so many times I questioned the reasons, and now that I'm gone and going back to a number of people I couldn't imagine my life without, it's so very clear.
How's the adjusting going, you ask? I would say well to quite well. After I stopped making eye contact with Steve, my 70 year old neighbor/landlord, he has been coming into the kitchen less often, and I haven't spotted him leering in the doorway recently. Also, my subletter has a pressure cooker, and I used it for the first time this week. Folks, I'm sold. Someone buy me one, please. It's incredible. Twenty minutes and you have succulent meat for days.* Which is good, because due to the exorbitant costs of everything - I got two paper towel rolls for a casual $14 yesterday. For $14 dollars, I want the tree. - I have taken to only eating home cooked meals during the week. This week, it was PB&J for dinner, but I classed it up with some grilling. And bacon.
The job is going well. I caved and made a "that's what she said" joke this week, because the setup was just so easy, but still, no one knows an embarrassing story about me. Even more impressive, I haven't done anything embarrassing yet. I think the lack of open bar probably plays to my advantage in that scenario. Even though there are women the office, I sit in the back with my fellow interns, all of whom are male, and all of whom are younger than me by about five years. Much like the engineers at VividCortex, I pretend they are women and tell them all my thoughts. So they have to hear me pontificate about why the guy who ignored my friend request for months just re-friend requested me. Who ignores a friend request? It's Facebook. You accept all requests if you know the person. I'm not a creep. Obviously, I had rescinded my friend request after two months of being ignored. I can't let someone get away with that disrespect... They sit in silence and look at their computers. Then I tell them I tried on a pair of pants I hadn't worn for two years, and they didn't fit over my thighs. Still, silence. Much like the engineers at VividCortex, I don't really think they know what to do with me.
I had my first - ahhh I'm in a big city moment where famous people live - moment the other day. I got off my train stop at West 4th, and there was an intense street ball game occurring. I had to watch. And lo and behold, Lance Stephenson of the Indiana Pacers was playing, complaining about how handsy the defenders were. I pitied the scrawny white boy out there, but there was one white boy who was holding his own. I've since adjusted my dating strategy to sitting outside the fences, waiting for the players to leave the court and nonchalantly run into them. I'll let you know how that goes.
Crossfit's going well. I'm slowly feeling strong again, and today, when someone asked me how long I had been doing it, I said about six years. Period. And she looked at the weight I had on the bar. And I still said nothing. Work hard where you are.
It's crazy to think my time in New York will be halfway done when I return. Time does go so quickly. And then school, and then life. I wrote on the Fourth of July a couple years ago about the freedom of choice, and at the time, I was applying to grad schools, wondering if I would be accepted, if VividCortex would take off, and I had to actively stop myself from thinking about the unknown.
Two years later, I've all but let go of the need to know my future. Talk to me in six months, and I may feel differently, but for now, I'm content doing the best I can now and being open to anywhere that may or may not lead.
As for the upcoming day of independence...
Thankfully, my job only requires me to be abreast of the latest sports new, so I'm still blissfully ignorant regarding most political topics. Unless it's about legalizing sports gambling. But, hey guys, Trump's been President for almost six months, and for everyone who thought we would - we haven't imploded! We're still a nation. Unfortunately, the Cavs are no longer world champs, but I'd choose the former if I had to, despite my intense loyalties and love for Richard Jefferson. Point is - this country is still a land of opportunity, and we still have the freedom as individuals to work toward the change we want to see.
I sometimes get frustrated with myself because I'm not where I want to be. But the truth is, I'll never be where I want to be. There's always going to be room for improvement, and while it's good to recognize that, it's also important to recognize how far I've come. How I have grown.
I've been obsessed with these 1920s Netflix series, and they make me grateful to be a woman living in 2017. To be able to work hard and be rewarded. To make my own decisions. To vote.
I think, often, it's easier to be negative than positive, especially when it comes to important issues. And while I know America has many areas where we can improve, the Fourth of July is a reminder of how far we've come. From a group of bold men who demanded independence from what they saw as an oppressive government, to the countless immigrants who risked everything for the betterment of their children, to leaders who marched for independence they didn't have, to the names of famous people if I actually read history, I'm grateful for the people who came before me. And I plan for whatever my future is to be a tribute worthy of their sacrifices.
*It seems people always exaggerate the transit time to airports. I've missed my share of flights, but it's never because I underestimated the process time. It's because I slept through my alarm. Very different.
*Need a date first, Anna.
*Could she have said that? I think so, yes.
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