The Progression of NYC

It started six months ago. Actually, two years ago. I applied to a position at Bon Appetit, hoping (somehow) I could get an interview. I never heard back, dusted the idea out of my head, and kept along with my life.

Six months after that I received an offer at my dream company in LA and truly believed the stars had aligned for me to come on board. I was so happy. Content. Satisfied. New York was still there—looming in the back of my mind—but I disregarded it, knowing I wanted to invest in the company I had just started working for. However, not a day went by I didn’t creep someone’s Instagram who lived in New York, google “best places to live in NYC”, or search flight prices.

I finally made it out there in November of 2014 and I felt as if the universe had created some spectacle for me. Everything was wonderful. Somehow, many close friends were visiting at the same time. I had my first cupcake at Magnolia Bakery and had drinks at 11:30p at night. I felt like a true New Yorker.

I left that trip completely refreshed. I came back to work, glowing. Everyone said I was beaming with excitement. I knew it, too. I wanted New York so badly, I could feel it inside my bones. I told my mom I wanted to move by January. I didn’t wanna wait any longer than I thought I needed to. But days turned into months and before I knew it, I was flying out for interviews in February. It was as if my head was making decisions without my brain fully processing what was happening- then my body was walking towards this dream that I hadn’t fully grasped entirely.

March was full of stressful events, but things that pointed me towards this dream. My car needed more work than it was worth, so I sold it. My sister was in Europe and let me borrow her car. I found an apartment (near central park!) with three amazing dudes, I started selling my furniture. Slowly, everything was falling into place.

One weekend I had a garage sale. Another I shipped boxes to my new house. Another, I sold my bed. Everything was happening. These decisions were happening and I felt like my brain was saying “wait! I am still running behind here! Let me catch up!”

I knew though, all I had to do was say "Yes". I had already said Yes to New York multiple times, but since it happened in stages, I hadn’t realized it. It seemed so far away. I wanted it badly, I felt as if I was in some sort of limbo—waiting for my next steps—but not rushing what I had presently. The months passed on and before I knew it, my apartment was cleaned out, my bed was sold, and I was living out of a suitcase.

I move to New York in eleven hours. I’m incredibly grateful for this life, for this journey. Life is so beautiful, so forceful and strong. I know LA will be here when (or if) I come back. It might be different, but what’s most beautiful and bittersweet is how progressive life is. Nothing stays the same. I find such comfort in that. 

Here's to cherishing the good; clinging on so tightly you're not sure what else to do. And here's to receiving life with open hands, saying "I'm open and ready to new experiences, places, and people." 

Change and Grief. Changing Grief?

So I've written on here a fair share of times about change, courage, and the like. Recently one of my good friends moved from LA to NYC and it got me thinking. She told me her friend shared with her an article she'd read about equating moving to grief. Does that resonate with anyone? We're such creatures of habit and messing with our day-to-day plans is scary.

On my drive home from work today, Tom Petty was playing on the radio, then The Cranberries and I couldn't help but begin to cry. I wasn't terribly sad or bemoaning much of anything. I was innocuously crying. Cause what else do you do when you're all alone in the car, thinking about life and your next steps and you hear a throwback from the 90's? You cry.

I have no idea where life will take me. I have no idea why I am where I am and why I've met those whom I've met, but there's a reason of some sort behind it all. It's insane and amazing to think about how quickly things change and why we're here. Do you feel the same way? There's always a door to be walked through, a chance to be taken, a memory to be made. And man, life is scary. Especially in the dead of the night when you're alone with your thoughts and you can't help but wonder where this crazy life will take you. You cry and realize it's ok to not know it all. Just keep walking

                                                     (Photo by: Daniel Molina)

Taylor Swift SLAYED the Grammy's Last Night


I couldn't get over her Elie Saab dress with Giuseppe Zanotti fuchsia heels. Can I get an amen? This girl takes the cake for effortless and chic. I would have never thought to combine teal + fuchsia but it worked and looked insane.

I love how the teal ombré's into a darker shade at the waist and then back to a lighter shade to finish off the dress. I was sad to see her go home grammy-less, but my theory is this: 1989 just came out in October. (October 27th to be exact). And the album hasn't been out long enough for mainstream to appreciate its potential. Only Swiftie's understand how incredible it is this early in the game.

And yes, I just wrote my 'back in the blogging world' post on Taylor Swift. Would you expect any  different from me?

Vegan + GF French Toast with Blueberry Compote à La Minimalist Baker

I made a pact with myself almost a year ago to meet every blogger I follow. I never thought I’d be one to feed into the whole blogosphere thing, but as time went on, I found there was a rich community behind the perfectly edited photos and funny banter. In September I had the pleasure of meeting Kelsey of Happyolks, a long-time virtual friend who’s just as sweet and genuine as her posts are. Then six weeks later, I met Laura of Hollywood Housewife at a book release party and got all googly-eyed when she introduced herself to me. In January, I drug along a co-worker to meet Emily of Cupcakes and Cashmere and in February, I virtually met Joanna from A Cup of Jo.

Mocha Chip Cacao Nib Waffles

My life has seemed like a tornado of sorts these past few months. Don’t worry- I’m not going to lament. First it started with a change of jobs and finding a sub-letter for my roommate, then life seemed to be going back to normal. Just when I thought all was going well and I was finally gaining my pace on this hamster wheel of life, the wind got knocked out from under me.

For about one month I had a sense of certainty. I had moved from one job to the other seamlessly, and somehow that gave me the most relief I’ve felt in a long time. Money has a way of doing that, and although I hate it, it’s true. I felt like a real grown ass woman and was working towards actually saving money, paying off my credit cards, and buying some new pieces of clothes, because let’s get real, my closet needed some help. 

Chocolate Peanut Butter Cookies

I’m gonna preface this by saying: I’m well aware I have written about my teeth fiasco here, and if you haven’t read much of it, I’m sure you have heard me talk about it, cuz it’s ALL I talk about. You’ve been warned.
I don’t talk about it because it proves some right, wrong or because it makes me feel more important or SPECIAL, but because it’s been the longest process of my life and I believe anything of good essence takes time.

Memories of my Abuela: Spanish Rice

My abuela was the cutest, most soft and roll-y little lady you woulda ever laid eyes on. She was kind, compassionate, made the best taquitos and taught me the meaning of loving without bounds. She makes me proud to be Hispanic.

My abuela passed away when I was just shy of seven years old. I cried for months. I remember standing up in front of my 1st grade class and telling them why I had been absent for a week of school; I remember my teacher, Mrs. Reeves coming up half way through my story and hugging me as I sobbed. My abuela was the best. I still miss her.