Updates

Fancy Little Things: Round 2!

Three ladies, two months of planning, 20+ participants = one successful clothing swap! However, even though today’s swap was highly successful, we still have a LOT of clothes left.

Now, we need your help to get rid of them!

We have dozens of pants, shirts, sweaters, and accessories in desperate need of a good home! Tomorrow (Monday, September 20th) from 5pm to 7pm, at Sisarina HQ, we’ll be holding a bag sale to get rid of all the remaining clothes. For just $5, you can take home as much clothing as you can fit in one bag (and drink and eat our mimosas and cupcakes). If you registered/attended Sunday’s swap, you can come back for free!

Just as with the swap, all entrance fees will go to a well-deserved charity: New Endeavors By Women.

Check out some great finds modeled by Chelsey and Grace (and a shot of organizing the DELICIOUS cupcakes from Enjoi Cupcakes)!

Everything is not awesome.

I don’t normally go for cheap ploys when I write blog posts, but I feel as though the nature of this post requires me to do so. So, let’s start by showing you adorable pictures of my cats as taken by my good friend Lisa Rowan of Quarter Life.

OK. Here comes the not-so-fluffy content.

A new friend recently told me that you’re not any one thing 100% of the time. I like thinking about that for several reasons: I’m a realist and sometimes realists are confused for being pessimists and, on rare occasions, I consider myself an optimist.

I’m a firm believer in not sugar-coating anything in life and being honest, especially with yourself. Not everything is hunky dorey all the time, not everyone you come into contact with is a good person, not every movie you see is good. Everything is not awesome.

I’ve noticed that this word is grossly over used by people my age, often including myself. Some people that are serious offenders of overusing “awesome” in their daily conversations calling everything and everyone they come into contact “awesome.”

Me: Do you know so-and-so?
Friend: Yeah! They’re awesome!

Me: This is one of my favorite songs.
Friend: Yeah! It’s awesome!

Me: That bar was really lame.
Friend: No! It was awesome.

While these are very basic, I think you get the point: everything is not awesome. Sometimes things are terrible, heartwrenching, defeating, and incomprehensible. Furthermore, sometimes things are beautiful, happy, incredible, unexpected, simple, complex, shocking, and so on.

There are more than a million words in the English language with nearly 15 new words being created each day. Even if just a quarter of those words are adjectives, that means there are approximately 250,000 adjectives in the English language. Shouldn’t we start to branch out a little with our adjectives?

Also, you get one more cat picture for the road for reading this entire post:

Reasons being a cat is awesome.

Note: I fully know going into this post that I’m sealing my deal as a crazy cat lady. Most people who know me already know this to be true, but this is pretty much solidifying it.

1. Someone will always scratch your head, no matter how adorable, or unadorable, you may be. This is the worst thing about being a grown-up. Your mom isn’t around to play with your hair or scratch your back when you had a rough day. If you’re a cat, you have nothing to worry about – people will always do this for you. Other humans? Probably not.

2. You’re not high-brow. Instead, you’re amused by little things like string and birds hanging out in trees. Every day for a cat is like being a toddler again and discovering new things like pencils, hair-ties, string, and cardboard boxes.

3. Your spine is crazy flexible. As someone with intense back pains on a constant basis, I’m crazy jealous of this cat trait. I’d kill to be comfortable as this guy, laying on his back, spread eagle while taking a nap. HOW IS THAT COMFORTABLE?

4. Someone else cleans up your messes. Self explanatory.

5. People make videos about how adorable you are and put them online for the whole world to see. Even better, if you’re a cat, you don’t have to worry about that embarrassing YouTube video ruining your potential bid for president in 2026. That, and there’s no real invasion of privacy because you don’t even know what the Internet is.

6. Enough people are terrified of your kind. This allows you to hold a lot of power over people’s heads. My friend Jesse is a well-educated young man with absolutely no feline-related experience. When you move your whiskers and tail, the thinks it’s your warning sign you’re about to maul him.

7. Someone will always cuddle with you. You’re fuzzy, you’re warm, you purr when people touch you. These things just encourage cuddling. Start licking my forehead or arm and I’m a goner.

8. Your biggest worry is whether you’re going to have New England
Boil or Cowboy Cookout for dinner. You definitely don’t have to worry about the post-meal smells coming from your body because, well, you’re a cat. You lick your own butt, you don’t care about a little smelly post-dinner gas.

9. The things you do would normally be qualified as creepy, but instead, they’re funny. If any other guy followed me into the bathroom or watched me get undressed when I came home, I’d call the cops. Instead, cats generally just get to do these things. Sometimes when I wake up in the morning, this guy just stares me in the face.

10. People think it’s cute when you’re fat. As a woman, it’s not good to tack on a few extra pounds. However, fat cats are ADORABLE. Everyone loves your flabby belly, especially when it moves from side to side when you run around the room.

New friends, old memories.

Maybe it’s the end of summer/changing of the seasons, the beginning of the fall TV schedule, or the post-Labor Day slump, but September always winds up being a rough month for me.

For 17 years (yes, I spent 5 years in college), I started school every September (or at the end of August) and, for the past two years, I moved into new apartments in September. In 2008, I made the DC to Brooklyn transition and, 12 months later, I made the transition back.

In addition to these transitional phases in my life, September is a month filled with memories, good and bad: my parents got divorced in September, I quit ice skating in September, and I started dating two ex-boyfriends in September. My weird, psychotic memory and it’s ability to memorize any number and date have kept all these dates in my mind years (even decades) later.

They get pushed further and further into the archives of my memory. But, over the past three months, I’ve met a lot of new people and formed excellent relationships with a handful and, every time a new bond is forged, old memories are frequently discussed. Ex-boyfriends, roommates, college stories, childhood memories are all things that people who really want to know you… want to know. That, and there’s only so much small-talk and so many discussions about “current affairs” you can have with these new friends before they decide to delve deeper into who you are, and vice versa.

For me, talking about these things can be highly emotional. While I’m good at hiding my emotions around others, it’s tough to keep it in when I’m at home. One look at cuddly cats in my bed and I get all sappy… think how much worse it is talking about ex-boyfriends or growing up without a present father. I rarely talk about any of these things because most of my friends know these things about me and I don’t need to talk about it.

It’s a bit of a double-edged sword. I’m gaining all these positive, exciting new relationships and, at the same time, I have to keep thinking: new friends may cause me to rehash old memories, but hopefully the good ones will stick around to create some new ones, too.

It’s the little things (or ones) that matter.

I have a small family. For most of my life, it was just me, my mom and my grandma driving each other crazy. Then, 10 days after my 17th birthday, and 5 months before I graduated from high school, my little brother was born.

When people ask me if I have any brothers and sisters, sometimes I say no, mostly because I forget. We weren’t raised together and we never lived in the same house. However, he’s still very much a part of me.

Even though we share just half of our genes, he’ll never be my half-brother. When someone is family, they’re family… it doesn’t matter how much DNA you share. Also, he’s the only other person in my entire family that actually looks like me (despite the hair color). I thought I was adopted most of the time growing up because I looked like no one else in my family. However, Kyle, despite sharing just half of my DNA, looks very much like my baby and childhood pictures (except for the long ringlets and more girl-ish features).

It makes me sad that he’s not allowed to come stay with me on the weekends, that I only see him a few times a year, or that I only talk to him once or twice a month. However, I value the interaction we have.

Whenever I talk to Kyle, it makes me so happy. I know everyone says this about kids they know or are related to, but he must be the smartest kid his age. Plus, he’s hilarious. Par exemple:

1. In college, I took my boyfriend at the time to meet my dad and brother at a restaurant. Before we got our meal, he dropped a crayon on the floor. He picked up another crayon and started drawing. We wondered what he was drawing and why he kept looking under the table, instead of getting the crayon off the floor. Ten minutes later, he drew a big X on his placemat and said, “X marks the spot!” He’d drawn a treasure map to rescue the crayon. At three years-old.
2. My dad and Kyle came to pick me and my cats up from Brooklyn last summer before I completely moved back to D.C. For the first two hours of the car ride, Kyle kept talking about how excited he was that I was moving home.
   

   Me: “Me too, kiddo. I missed you a lot while I was gone.”
   Kyle: “Can you just move in with us? I want to see you every day!”
   Me: “Sorry, kiddo. My job is in the city.”
   Kyle: “But I love you so much!”
   Me: “I love you so much, too.”
   He paused for a brief moment.
   Kyle: “Nicole, what is love?”

   Even though I’m sure he didn’t understand to the full extent what he was asking, I’m still impressed to this day that he even asked that and was capable of questioning something like that at such a young age.

3. We talked the other night about him coming to visit me sometime shortly after school starts and his schedule gets really busy.
   

   Me: “You don’t sound very excited to visit me, or the cats!”
   Kyle: “If I was a dog, my tail would be wagging right now!”
   I laughed.
   Kyle: “And, if my tail was wagging, I’d be panting like this.” And he panted like a dog.

So, while most people think the kids they know are the smartest, I’m pretty certain I’m right about this one.

The end is near.

No. Not that end.

The end of my destructive habits is near. Very near.

Beginning later today when I wake up (I’m writing this at 12:39am on a Sunday morning), I’m putting an end to my destructive habits. No man, woman, or cat is safe from these rules in my apartment either.

Starting tomorrow:

1. My apartment will be cleaned and will stay clean. This only goes for the human in my apartment. The cats really have nothing to do with this. I just know that when I don’t clean my apartment, they’re really grumpy and wind up sleeping on the piles of clothing on the floors. Also, I feel as though the state of your apartment represents the state of togetherness in your life. Right now, both are a mess. Maybe if I clean up one, the other will fall in line?
2. Regular exercise will occur. Back in April, I’d lost 20 pounds. I was feeling really good, ready for summer and a new job to start, but it all fell to pieces. As soon as I started the new job, I spent more hours commuting and sitting at a desk than I spent standing or moving my body at an aerobic pace. I’ve definitely gained some of that weight back and I’m not happy about it. I also want to feel stronger and be able to do more (and be able to buy a single digit-sized coat in October). This rule definitely applies to the cats. I mean, just look at this guy:

   

3. Only healthy, nutritious food will be consumed, unless it’s a special occasion. I’m also going to start feeding the boys healthier cat food. We all need to eat better if we want to be around longer.
4. No more staying up late on weeknights. I need to make a schedule and stick to it. I think I’m going to start sleeping with a water bottle in bed with me so I can spray the cats when they do things like pawing at my face or attempting to rip out the hairtie in my hair while I’m sleeping.

It all begins with tomorrow: “clean-the-hell-out-of-your-apartment” day. I’m finally going to put together the desk I bought a month and a half ago. Hopefully, it won’t turn into a Liz Lemon situation where I need to use a ham-covered wedding dress to stabilize my new desk. We’ll see. Afterward, I plan to sit down and start blogging regularly.

Poor you.

Focus, girl. Focus.

Sometimes I feel like I have ADD. My addiction to the internet, my phone, and social media have simultaneously ruined my life and made it a million times better.

How is that possible?

Here’s how it’s been ruined:

1. I constantly check my email, social media accounts, and text messages. I’m not even popular; I’m just completely and totally addicted.
2. I carry my computer everywhere I go and feel completely naked without it. In addition to taking a toll on my mental well-being, it’s taking a toll on my right shoulder and lower back.
3. I constantly hear/feel phantom rings and vibrations from my phone. Thankfully I’m not the only one this happens to, but I still feel really ridiculous when it happens.
4. I feel completely out of touch when I don’t have cell phone reception. No explanation needed. This is just sad.

And improved:

1. I’ve made a lot of new friends in a short period of time. The D.C. social media community is a strong, vibrant and close-knit community. It’s great to take these online relationships offline (and move it to IRL) with other geeky people in a city known mostly for it’s uptight-ness and lack of personality. These people have served as friends, educators, and sounding boards in times when I needed someone to talk to.
2. I have a newfound confidence in myself.
3. When I needed help getting my blog started, I instantly had it. I put one call out to people interested in writing for me and, within minutes, I had people responding to me interested in writing about their careers. I’ve reconnected with old friends and gained new friends through this incredible project.

Overall, I think the pros outweigh the cons. However, I still feel like I need to focus my thoughts and attention. That’s definitely going to come into play with this blog in the future. I’ve definitely been struggling with a concept for this for a while – I’ve written about a lot of things over the past year and I need to focus.

From here on out, this blog is going to focus on me. Me living in the city. That’s what the name is (Nicole in D.C.), right? Even though the D.C. blogging community is filled with excellent, thoughtful writers, I feel like I have my own place and viewpoint within that community. Hopefully, I’ll keep up with this unlike my resolutions.

Getting over my fears: Running on the treadmill

Everything I know about running, I learned from my 9th grade gym class teacher. However, I didn’t pay much attention in 9th grade; I was more interested in the boy in my journalism class and how I could make sure I got to class fastest from the gym to sit at his table during class.

Running around a track or a field outside wasn’t stimulating and seemed pointless at the time. The boys would always lap me and taller girls would finish first. I hated running then, and have been afraid of it ever since.

A few years back, these New Balance commercials really intrigued me and almost made me want to run… but not quite enough to get me off my butt to do it.

I’m not sure what took me so long to get on the treadmill… I’m not afraid of a little a lot of sweat, I thoroughly enjoy working out, and am trying desperately to get into shape while still in my mid-twenties.

One of the biggest fears I had prior to stepping on the treadmill was the possibility of having bad form. How freely should your arms really move? Would I run like Pheobe in that episode of FRIENDS?

Also, what happens when you let go of the bar in front of you? Will you slide right off the back end like in a bad movie? What if you wind up running from side to side? Will I sound like a heard of elephants running down a bowling alley?

The only thing I remember from 9th grade gym class was our teacher telling us to hold our hands like there was a delicate potato chip between our fingers. Don’t ball your fingers into a fist and don’t squeeze your energy into your hands.

Once I stepped on, I realized that I didn’t need to answer any of those questions until I just did it.

I began doing intervals of 10 minutes – seven minutes jogging/running, three minutes walking. After three of those, I then did three more 7 minute intervals – four minutes running, three minutes walking. All in all, I ran/walked for nearly 60 minutes straight and it’s safe to say I got a good workout; I think even my fingernails are sweating.

More than anything, I feel accomplished. I’ve lived on the Blue/Orange line for 90% of my adult life and never really had residential areas to run in. Now that I live in a tree-lined, residential neighborhood with a bunch of rich yuppies on the Red line, people are constantly running… and constantly making me feel bad for not running.

Now, I can’t say I don’t know how to run. Or that I’m a bad runner. Yeah, it may take two sports bras and a super tight athletic tank to strap my chest down, but I can run!

Etsy Store: Launched. First Sale: Mailed.

I’ve long debated launching an Etsy store for my knitted items. I regularly get people complimenting my scarves and asking where I got them and, after thoroughly cleaning my apartment, I found 16 completed items I’d never worn.

I often wondered about the actual earning potential on Etsy. Last summer, my former roommate and I hand folded, dyed, and ironed nearly 40 silk scarves. We took gorgeous photos of them, posted them to Etsy, and didn’t even have many “views.” A month later, we attempted to sell them at a craft fair in Brooklyn. Again, to no avail.

This time, I made sure I was going to do it right. With support from my Twitter account and blog, I knew I could at least get some views and get some friends and family to pass the link along to their friends. A friend came over and helped me photograph my handknits which I promptly resized and touched up.

After four hours of grueling Etsy uploading, my store was created.

Just 12 hours later, I had my first sale and, yesterday, had my second. I currently have two or three custom requests coming in and I’m going to start networking on the discussion forums with other users. Sunday, I went out and bought a bunch of spring-time yarns to get spring knitting started so I can put the winter knits on sale and get more items in the store.

I also rushed to get “finishing products” to wash, wrap, and send my knits in: I bought a beautiful blue, geometric tissue paper that was on sale at Target, blue metallic Thank You cards, and spring-time gentle soap. One of the most important things about Etsy is that everything is about having that extra special personal touch, and I really wanted to make sure to include that when I ship items as well. Today, I mailed my first Etsy sale and I was so excited that I took pictures of it.

I lost 3.5 pounds this week, and I’m going to write about it.

In the summer of 2005, I dropped nearly 20 pounds doing Weight Watchers, eating properly and exercising, and having a very active job as an intern at a concert promotions company. The weight came off in a matter of weeks and then I started to slack and begin ‘rewarding’ myself. Not too long after that, I started dating and stopped eating healthily and making time for the gym.

The other day I had one of those realizations that, in 10 years, I could be one of those people on The Biggest Loser who wakes up and is over 200 pounds. I’ve slowly gained all that weight back – and more – in a matter of 4.5 years. Keep it on this pace, I could be more than 250 pounds by the time I hit 34, and that’s not something I’m okay with.

One of the major issues I have with my body is that I’m completely proportional and I hold my weight well. Yeah, that may not seem like a bad thing, but, when you gain and lose, nothing really changes. When I tell people what I weigh, they’re completely floored thinking I weigh at least 15-20 pounds less than I actually do. Maybe that has do to with my athletic background as a child and having a muscular build, but being proportional has a lot to do it with it, too. There’s no “oh, hey, my gut’s getting out of control” or “wow, my butt looks big in those jeans.” Unless I can’t buy a pair of jeans in the store, I never really notice that I’ve gained or lost much weight.

So, what am I doing now to lose weight? I haven’t changed my lifestyle that much, actually. Here are the things I’ve focused on so far:

• Getting to the gym no matter if it’s crowded or not. I love watching the activity points rack up on Weight Watchers. An hour on the elliptical is rewarding in many ways – it’s worth 8 activity points, I get a very good sweat on, and it wears me out so I can go to sleep. Also, it relieves the guilt of having a late-night snack.
• Choosing skim milk when drinking coffee/Don’t drink your calories. One of my long-term goals is to completely rid my diet of unnecessary/empty calories, especially those consumed through drinking. They offer very little nutritional value and don’t even come close to filling you up.
• Making sure to evaluate food at home before choosing to eat at a restaurant. I have a lot of food in my house. I could survive another snowpocalypse without having to worry about groceries — I really shouldn’t be getting takeout from the Thai place or Chipotle on my way home three times a week. Not only is it bad for my waistline, but it’s also bad for my wallet.
• Eating leftovers. For anyone who knows me, they know I basically can’t stomach leftovers. I blame it on the fact that I basically only at three things for the bulk of my childhood. This week, I cooked a pack of chicken up one night and vowed to eat all of it over the course of the week. I just seasoned it with pepper and salt when I cooked it so that I could use it in a variety of ways – on a sandwich, in tacos, or just plain… hot or cold. I wound up finishing the entire pack in four days.
• Setting an alarm for counting my points three times a day. I’ve actually been on Weight Watchers since my birthday and, six weeks later, I’m just beginning to count my points. There’s no bigger motivating factor than tracking your points and realizing “wow, that Pop Tart has 1/5 of the calories I’m supposed to consume in a day.” Even if you think you’re making a ‘sacrifice’ by eating Pop Tarts without the frosting (I did a calorie check in the store; some flavors without frosting have more calories than their frosting-less counterparts).
• Not counting daily routine in activity points. I generally walk 2-3 miles a day, but if I were to stop exercising, this wouldn’t change. While WW suggests that you track all activity, I’m not going to go with this method because it inflates how much actual exercise I’m finding the time to do.

When you can eat things like this on a diet, why would you not diet? (I apologize for the slightly blurry picture)

That’s a mozzarella, tomato, and arugula panini on whole wheat artisan bread with a chickpea, pepper, carrot and onion salad on a little bit of spinach. Grand total: 6 Weight Watchers points.