Fact, No. 1

• When water is placed on the table at a restaurant I choose the glass with the most ice.
• When my room mates aren't home I like to take that opportunity to pee with the door open or walk around without pants.
• I love Drake. 
• I hate how much I love Drake.
• I buy men's clothing in the Fall. The whole "Boyfriend-shirt-fit" is BS, just go buy a men's shirt. Duh.
• I can eat breakfast for dinner, almost any day.
• I stay loyal to where I buy my coffee in the morning, I especially love when they call me "honey" or "sweetheart" and talk to me like they've known me forever. Shit gets me every time.
• I hate eating the same lunch and dinner back to back (i.e. leftovers), however I can eat the same breakfast almost every day.
• Since I have moved to NY I haven't had to clean anything except my room—until today, I cleaned the kitchen. Not because I'm lazy but because I've managed to have a cleaning service at the past two places I've lived in. In my defense, it was included in the rent.
• I've never had to do laundry at a laundromat since moving here. I've had washer/dryer units in all of my apartments. Yes, in New York City. This is lucky. This is the definition of luck.
• I'm pretty sure 70% of the men I check out are gay. The murse is the obvious indicator.
• All the interesting/attractive men I meet are already in a relationship. WAMP WAMP WAMP x 1,000.
• I haven't shaved my legs in what seems like 5 five years. There was a point when I realized it is not necessary. 
• I also don't have hair on my arms.
• I went on a blind/online date last month. I had a feeling the dude was short, so I wore heels on purpose to emphasize any difference in height. Yeah, he was short. Yeah, I'm a jerk.
• Sometimes when we're bored at work my co-workers and I walk to to pet store to gush over the puppies in the window. You're not supposed to buy puppies in a store, so we feel bad, but we're not planning on purchasing them, so we continue to enable ourselves to keep going.
• Sometimes we got to Madison Square park to watch the dogs in the dog park.
• I want a dog. Is that obvious yet?

The Million Dollar Question

If there is anything I've had to answer over the course of a single month, constantly, it is the following question:

"Why / how are you still friends with him?"

Real talk? Its because I can handle it.

Truthfully, its quite easy. Despite the hell he dragged me through, and trust… I was dragged… I've managed to want to keep him in my life as my friend. Our marriage didn't work out, but I refuse to throw away a friendship of 17 years. 

If my life was not progressing as smoothly as it is right now, I might have a different opinion on how I handle my shit. As I've expressed—my life is amazing. I've accepted that the demise of my romantic relationship with him is all apart of some greater plan of which I am completely clueless about. 

Our lives are individually moving forward in ways we could not accomplish together, coming to terms with this has been difficult, but its reality and I've managed to handle it as gracefully as I can. My friendship with him has always been a positive experience, so I keep him on my team in that capacity. I'm good about separating the husband I've needed to divorce and the man who has been my friend for the past 17 years. Yes, they are two separate people.

Although I said "deuces" to a husband, I still have the friend who knows me inside and out and I simply cannot throw him out.

Better than your booty call

The other day I was frustrated as fuck by a text received past midnight, sent by a dude who I was supposed to see that night. He didn't manage to text me all day, yet there he was… hitting me up at 12:15 am asking me what's up, while I gave up on his ass and went to bed.

Trust me. I GET IT. I know what this is. I'm in New York, shit is crazy casual over here. I already know.

However, I am me.

I am me, and I am better than your booty call.

I realize this is a two-way street, and I can have my cake and eat it too. I have. However, the moment you fail to treat me with enough respect to send me a simple text message to confirm plans I'm pretty much done. No thank you, sir. I know this isn't going to lead anywhere, its not meant to. It is what it is. 

Cool. Its mutual.

But then I am reminded that I am better than this. I try to turn it off. I try not to give a fuck, but I am better than this. I am worth your time before 11pm. I am worth a lobster dinner without obligations. I am worth the extra effort and time in your day. 

"If she's easy, she won't be amazing. If she's amazing, she won't be easy."

Fact: I'm amazing.
 #betterthanyourbootycall

The Mantra

The other week I was hit with some news while sitting on a rooftop in Williamsburg. Don't worry, you'll hear about it soon enough, I'm good about sharing.

I swear I was about 90% back on my road to recovery and then there I was, crying in public, blown away by some brand new shit. I was doing so well, but somehow life managed to add something to my list of grievances. 

I had to remember where I was. I was in Brooklyn, staring back at Manhattan. I was fighting hard as hell to stop tears from streaming, keeping my eyes focused on the New York skyline, telling myself repeatedly:

"This is yours, you know. This is where you're supposed to be."

Since then I've adopted it as my mantra. Its my anthem, I own it. 

I had to look back on the past year of my life just to get a sense of perspective. The only way to take apart a relationship that was so good on paper was to put it through a shredder and destroy the fuck out of it.

I was on a path with a man who I thought was my forever, but it was the wrong trail and it also turns out it was the wrong man. I'm meant for greater things, and I accept that for the meantime my journey is meant to be solo (dear God—please let it only be a minute). I am hustling hard in the city that never sleeps. I am growing as a designer and preparing myself for the next job title I have my eyes on. I've made a life for myself, by myself in New York City.

This is where I'm supposed to be, there is no denying that.

Sodium Intake

When it comes to the opposite sex, I always take their words with a grain of salt.

I put salt on errrythang. 

Hi, my name is Kate, and I am jaded as fuck.

So when he says "I'll text you." I put a pinch of salt on that.
When he says "I'll see you soon." I use the shaker over that about half a dozen times.
When he discusses any possible future date and/or meeting time I go ahead and open up the Morton canister and pour it freely over his words.

My sodium intake is through the roof these days, but you know what? I'd rather eat words with salt than with substitute sweetner.

I never liked that fake sugar shit anyway.

Hall Pass - Part 2

Today—I am extra weak. It happens.

Private Girl, Public Blog

I pre-determine how much I give you of myself when I first meet you and as we go along. I figure out how much I tell you about my personal life, if we should we be friends on FB and if at the absolute most… if I should allow you to follow me on Instagram. This is based on a variety of factors: how do I know you, do I want you to know about my past, do we work together or how will this affect any possible relationship we may have (platonic and/or romantic).

It all sounds so complicated for a woman who publicly puts herself out there with this blog, I realize that. However, I'm formulaic, I have levels. 

I've had the luxury starting fresh within the past year. I've been introduced to a whole new crop of people ranging from coworkers, friends, room mates and potential dudes. Right off the bat I am not one to add people on social media immediately, unless we have a direct friend or have experienced an awesome time together I will not jump at the chance. 

I treat my coworkers and room mates on a need-to-know basis. That doesn't mean I haven't developed amazing friendships from both groups, I'm just saying I've waited to add them on Facebook and I drop the "I'm actually going through a divorce right now" bomb about a week before I've left my last two apartments. 

My divorce is not public knowledge in NY. It does not define me. I don't use it as a crutch to be emotional (I'm not emotional in general) and I do not need anyone's sympathy, judgement and/or assumptions. You'd never know i was going through some shit unless I told you personally and I like it that way.

Here I go again with the dualities. I'm a private girl with a public blog. I make no sense, but I hope I entertain you along the way. ;-)

Habits

I have this habit of running the thumb on my left hand over my ring finger, only to find it empty. I used to have mild bouts of anxiety whenever I realized the rings were missing. The anxiety is gone now, but my thumb has excellent muscle memory, it does this subconsciously—I wish it didn't.

When I'm good about praying before I go to sleep (which is super infrequent), I still say your name after my parents and my sister. I can't help it, its the natural order of people of which I've asked God to watch over for the past dozen years.

When I am forced to recite my entire legal last name, it still comes out fluidly. Its thirteen fucking characters long, with a hyphen in the middle, but my annunciation doesn't skip a beat. 

I'm intentionally trying to prevent myself from continuing these habits.

However, I have purposely chosen not to break the habit of being your friend, despite the bullshit, heartache, and every reason under the sun in which you don't deserve to know me as a person. But you're fortunate as fuck, cause somehow you managed to snag a bad bitch who was strong enough to deal with all that is "you" (before / during / and especially AFTER). 

All I ever wanted is for you to be as happy and as healthy as you could possibly be, and since thats not with me, I accept that 100 percent. No bitterness. No sadness. No joke.

I only ask that you wish the same for me, for a man who always holds my hand when we both need to jaywalk across the street, who would never have one more drink at happy hour when he already knows I'm at home with dinner waiting, and particularly for a man who can't wait to thank you for letting me go. I ask you wish me the best, for the king I've always deserved, cause I always knew I was a queen.

The First Basic Rule

I learn fast. Even after a decade+ of being out of the game, I learn fast.

First rule: never mistake attention for affection.

I have no problem attracting attention from the opposite sex. I mean that in a very literal sense. It doesn't mean these men are worthy of me reciprocating said attention and it doesn't mean I necessarily welcome these advances. 

Attention is easy, affection is difficult to come by.

Dude-dating-mentality-training aside, I'll be honest… I miss affection.

I would like to give/receive a kiss on the cheek as soon as you see that one person… when you walk through the door… when you arrive at your destination… after a long day of work… or plain and simply… JUST. BECAUSE. 

I would like to hold someone's hand while walking down the street… while crossing the street… strolling through a park… or doing absolutely nothing. I'm not even one of those girls who needs to hold hands often, I just miss having that opportunity.

I miss experiencing the simplest forms of affection. 

Attention is fine for the meantime, I guess… I just know I'm worth more.

365

I have a timeline of the past 1.5 years of my life memorized down pat. 2012 was a fucking pain, literally. I bled constantly. You could assume I might be emotionally scarred from keeping track of these traumatic dates and occurrences, truth is I'm full of scar tissue—but I'm not emotional about it.

Rewind:
Last Labor Day Weekend ex-Mr and I dedicated the weekend to a "staycation" never-ending date. The weekend started off fairly rocky, we had issues trying to keep ourselves on the same page, and we ended up getting interrupted in the middle of the weekend and having guests, but on Labor Day itself we managed to enjoy a nice long hike in Muir Woods finished off by an amazing home-cooked meal back at our apartment. I remember it clearly because it was our last memorable date as husband and wife. Our high was short-lived, it was a momentary glimpse of our old dynamic. He was unable to sustain such a connection with me, and I was no longer providing him him with whatever he needed (I have since realized this disconnect was not my fault). We fell apart again for the last time a few days later. I was left with no choice but to move out in the beginning of September, with my pride shattered into a million fucking pieces and with the failure of our marriage following me all the way back to my parents house. I left the man and city I loved exactly one year ago. 

Fast Forward:
I spent this past Friday moving into a new apartment in Brooklyn. One of my original room mates (of the seven guys) purchased a brand-spankin' new extra-extra-large condo. I've already moved twice within my time period here, but I feel as though this is finally home. My first two apartments were short-lived residences and it was always apparent to me. This move is another one of those "gifts" that have since fallen into my lap since relocating. I told you, New York City loves me. However I'm smart enough to know she'll throw me a curveball again in a minute though, so I'll stay humble about that. 

I was the most broken and ill-functioning version of myself a year ago. It was a struggle to go to bed at night and wake up to my reality. I couldn't imagine life without the man who promised me my future. So without him I took it one step and day at a time. 365 days later here I am, happily blogging in BK.

50 Questions

If you are a man, consider yourself attractive, have a good job, decent head on your shoulders and like what I have to say for 75% of what is written below, please, by all means… please get at me. Questions stolen from here.

1. What is one thing you will never do again?
 Change my last name for a man. Yeah I said it. #BOOM 

2. Would you rather be twice as smart or twice as happy?
 Ahh, difficult. I'll take happiness, even if that means I'm slightly more idiotic.

3. What happened the last time you cried?
 I was angry at bullshit. I gave myself about five minutes to get over it, and I did.

4. What happened the time in your life when you were the most nervous to do something?
 I bought a one-way ticket to NYC in Sept 2012, half-broken.

5. What would your parents be surprised to learn about you?
 That although I told them I was done getting tattoos, I probably am not… Whoops.

6. What’s your worst habit?
 Starting projects and not finishing them.

7. What superpower would you have for one day?
 Teleportation

8. What fictional character do you have the biggest crush on?
 Jacob Palmer (Ryan Gosling) in "Crazy, Stupid, Love" or Tom (JGL) in "500 Days of Summer." They're tied, go figure. I'm weak.

9. Where would you live if you could live anywhere in the world?
 New York City, and I'm already here.

10. What is your most bizarre pet peeve?
 When people tell me I'm "lucky." Don't ever use that word with me.

11. Who knows you the best?
 Ex-Mr. 

12. What after school activities did you do in high school?
 ASB, YFC and tahitian.

13. What “most likely to” superlative would you be most honored to receive?
 Most likely to be a boss.

14. What’s the last book you really loved?
 Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows #GEEEEEEEEK

15. What was the greatest television show of all time?
 The Wonder Years or Freaks & Geeks or The Office 

16. What’s been your favorite age so far?
 26/27 but I'm kind of killin' 30 already, so this might win.

17. If you could go back in time, what is one piece of advice you would give your younger self?
 "Stop worrying."

18. What one thing would you be most disappointed if you never got to experience it?
 Having kids / starting my own family

19. Apologize or ask permission?
 Apologize—only if its necessary.

20. Unlimited love or money?
 Love, no question.

21. If you knew you would die in one week, what would you do?
 Move back home. Eat. Party. Pray.

22. What’s your most listened to song?
 "Sooner Than Later" - Drake, So Far Gone 

23. Beach vacation or European vacation?
 TIED. Don't make me choose.

24. If you could have been a child prodigy what would you have wanted to be skilled at?
 Fencing, the accordion, or ventriloquism, in that order. I'm strange. You probably wouldn't fuck with me if you found out I was a fencing champ back in the day.

25. What’s the first thing you would do if you won the lottery?
 Buy property in NY, SF and HI.

26. What celebrity would you trade lives with?
 No one. No thanks.

27. If you were a performing artist, what would you title your first album?
 DomestiKATE

28. What story do your friends still give you crap about?
 The time I was hopeless and useless putting together IKEA furniture or the time I got too drunk at my own bachelorette party.

29. If earth could only have one condiment for the rest of time, what would you pick to keep around?
 Mayonnaise

30. What is the ideal number of people to have over on a Friday night?
 5 

31. What was the worst age you’ve been so far?
 TWENTY NINE, HAH. Easiest question I've had to answer in this list.

32. What is your weirdest dealbreaker?
 A man cannot order a drink weaker than me. It cannot be vodka-based and it cannot be brightly colored. If he needs a weak drink he can order beer, end of story.

33. What fictional character reminds you most of yourself?
 Sam, "Garden State."

34. Do you believe in karma?
 Most definitely.

35. What was your favorite TV show as a kid?
 Anything on TGIF or SNICK, duh.

36. What is the weirdest thing you find attractive in a person?
 The ability to trade insults and call each other out.

37. What Jeopardy! category would you clear, no problem?
 Drake Lyrics for $500, please. 

38. What is something you’re superstitious about?
 Clothing worn to sporting events.

39. What is the scariest experience you have ever had?
 Separation/Divorce. Easy answer.

40. Who is a non-politician you wish would run for office?
 Arnold Schwarzenegger, ohh wait, nvm, he already did that.

41. What cheesey song do you have memorized?
 Gumby theme song. No joke. Ask me.

42. What one dead person would you most like to have dinner with, if it were possible?
 My grandfather from my dad's side. 

43. Do you think it’s important to stay up to date with the news?
 Yes. Do I? No.

44. What is the best present you’ve ever received?
 Presence.

45. Would you give up one of your fingers if it meant you’d have free wifi wherever you go, for the rest of your life?
 No, shit.

46. What’s the first thing you’d do if you were the opposite sex for one day?
 Ohh. My. Goodness. Experience a boner, no question, then an orgasm. HAHA.

47. If someone told you you could give one person a present and your budget was unlimited–what present would you get and for whom?
I'd pay off the mortgage on my parents house.

48. What is the nicest thing someone could say about you?
 Compliment my interior, before my exterior.

49. Giant house in a subdivision or tiny house somewhere with a view?
 Tiny house with a view, hello. #citygirl

50. What is the weirdest quirk your family has?
 My parents, thats all. My parents.

Girls Girls Girls Girls

When I first stepped foot onto the dating scene I told my girls every thing. EVERY. THING.

I was bombarded with never-ending questions and scenarios whenever a new prospective dude popped into place. 

What's his name? Where's he from? What does he do? Do you have a pic? Are you FB friends? Is his IG private? Etc. Etc. Etc. Yadda. Yadda. Yadda.

I've learned this is a common thing with my fellow females. The moment a woman gets asked out on a date by a man her inner circle is privy to this knowledge. They are already familiar with his basic statistics and thinking about date 2, 3, 4, 5… the possibilities and the potential, their minds are racing. They get attached to their delusional ideas and hypothetical situations. This is the TRUTH. 

However, in a man's mind, he simply asked this woman out on a date. No one on his end even knows she exists. He hasn't planned out the elaborate romantic love story that they are gong to tell their grandchildren someday. No. He just thought this woman was cute/hot/fuckable and hey, they're going to grab drinks at a bar and hang out. Nothing more. Nothing less.

SO WHY… Why do my fellow women go bat shit crazy every time one of our girls meets a new man? Can we all please relax? Haha.

I've recently had a conversation with a girlfriend I've met in NY, she's head over heels infatuated with a dude she met on Tinder about two weeks ago (if you don't know about Tinder, you better ask some one). She's already stressing about meeting his son and their future together. She's already spoken with her closest friends on how she's going to handle to situation. I've recently spilled to my co-worker that I'm casually seeing this dude who lives in an awesome neighborhood. I gave her the basics, she flipped the hell out with excitement, proclaiming I "better not fuck this up, because you (me) could be living in Grammercy someday."

Hold on. Geez. Take a step (or five hundred) backwards.

I promise you, I have not given up on the thought of love and marriage and happily ever afters. I'm just ultra fucking realistic these days. I am training myself to adapt a dude dating mentality, no strings, no ties and no expectations. I am doing this despite the fact that my vagina and heart are in cahoots with each other and I have the biological make up of a grown woman.

I can't invest in the ideals my girls have when I mention someone new. I'm jaded, I can't invest in these dudes in general. My walls will come down when the right man presents himself and comes correct. I appreciate the cheerleading squad, and I know us ladies feel nothing but excitement the moment one of us comes back with a juicy story and meet a potential Mr., but for the sake of our hearts, lets take it down a notch. Lets protect ourselves, because we all know how vulnerable we are.