Tote Bags, Tangents, and True to Myself

Have any of you guys tried Hailey Bieber’s viral twenty-dollar smoothie at Erewhon? I know that is probably such a red flag, but I really want to try it. However, I think it is a symptom of a larger issue. Not only am I yearning to become the next victim of the overpriced Erewhon smoothies epidemic, but I'm also craving avocado toast, fish tacos, and maybe even an acai bowl. 

While I can track most of those items down in New York, none of them would taste as pristine as the OG’s from California. 

So, what is the greater meaning to this? I may just be in need of a classic Katy Perry California Girls summer. A good ol’ Chili Peppers Californication would cure me from the Empire State of Mind that I am in right now. 

But, you guys are probably a little confused from the randomness of this entry so far, so let me reign it in. 

Okay, so I have a hot take and I just need to get it off my chest. I thought I could fall for the “Library Boy” propaganda. You know what I mean – the guy who drinks a matcha, sits in the library, with blue light glasses on, and puts his keys and wallet in a tote bag.

It sounds cute in theory, very Pinterest board-esque. (Or, if you are my friend, Nik, “it is very Pinterest board-esque vibes.” Only he will get that, most likely, so hey, Nik! Miss ya!) 

Anyway, when I moved to New York, I told my Dallas roomie and BFF, Sarah, how excited I was for the dating scene in New York. I said, verbatim, which is just so embarrassing now, “I think I will meet someone who is different than these Dallas guys, maybe at some underground rave in Brooklyn. He will probably have great music taste, great style, and maybe even a few tattoos.” I was ready to meet whatever the opposite of the classic Dallas, frat, finance, Peter Millar combo was. 

I have been lucky enough, during my time in New York, to meet someone amazing, and definitely different from the typical Dallas guy, but not in the cringey alternative way that I was seeking at underground raves in Brooklyn – Thank God.

He was in a frat, he golfs, and I am pretty sure I saw him wear a Peter Millar shirt here and there, (all things that I must admit are my Kryptonite), but what is different, is that he is unapologetically himself. 

While in New York, I have learned more than I could have ever imagined. I learned not to stand directly on the curb in a rainstorm (iykyk); I learned how to jump the turnstile in the Subway without falling on my face (learned that one the hard way), and even learned the geography of Ireland (learned that over many Guinnesses in McCarthy’s, shout out Morgan, Rebecca x2, Sean x2, Kelly, Mikey, Paul, Neil, Cal, and Lily!! Love you guys so much!!) 

However, the most impactful thing I have learned is how to be much more comfortable with myself. I have learned how to do things on my own, and feel content while alone. I do what I want to do, dress how I want to dress, and live how I want to live. 

So, if the tone of this chaotic blog post wasn’t a hint in itself, here is the point: Yes, I am moving out of New York. 

I am going to miss this place more than words, but for me, the hardest part is leaving all of the wonderful friendships I have made along the way. 

Knowing I am not going to be able to laugh uncontrollably on the subway with Matt, watch Will tell Rebecca Plummer which beer I would like due to my indecisiveness, witness another ice cube fight with Kelly, ride City Bikes with Luci, sing Katy Perry with Mikey, watch Sean Courtney lip sync every early 2000’s song, or hear Sean Gannon say “what’s the crack?” again, makes me so melancholy. (Sarah, I threw in the word “melancholy” just for you; only she will get that reference).

I love my friends here so much because they are all so unapologetically themselves. That is what makes them so fun, relatable, and electric to be around. They all taught me to follow my heart and be my own person, and in doing so, I have to be honest with myself. I am a California girl at heart. Who knows, maybe one day I will live here again, but for now, I feel like I need to be somewhere else. 

I am so excited to be near my family and in a city where I can be active and enjoy the outdoors. So, if you are looking for me this summer, you will be able to find me on my paddle board on Lake San Marcos, hiking in Torrey Pines, or at Raul’s Shack. 

I love the little coffee house I am sitting in right now, but again, I am seeing too many men carrying tote bags, and my cappuccino was literally seven dollars. This vibe is good, but it just does not compare to Raul’s Taquito Burrito and men in five-inch in-seem Lulu’s and Converse. (red Converse, specifically, and only Korey will get that reference).

And, you guys are probably wondering about the guy I met in New York. Well, the way I care for him is probably pretty obvious from my previous blog entry. It is true – he is amazing, and he doesn’t even carry a tote bag! I managed to find the only guy in New York without a cringey tote bag on his shoulder and a matcha in hand. Actually, he likes to order a Refresher at Starbucks, so honestly, I may have found the perfect guy for me. 

But, in all seriousness, I will miss him so much. I can’t even explain. But, he said it best: The next job I have may not be my last. The next city I live in may only be for my next season in life, so who knows? He may make another appearance on the blog down the line. Secretly, I really hope he does, but don’t tell him that. 

But for now, I need to make the move that is going to be best for me in this stage of life, and he knows that. So, as much as I would love a Friends moment at the airport when I leave on Tuesday, I know that this is what is best. (But seriously, if he is reading this, I secretly do hope he watches the last episode of Friends before I leave.) 

And that’s all I have for you guys right now. I had to end this insane blog post that has so many tangents with a little girly delusion. I may be insane. Anyways, peace out, guys! Love y’all! Time to go taste an overpriced Erewhon smoothie, touch grass, and drive my bedazzled Nissan Rogue.