Blending of Days.

I’m not sure how it happens, that the days in New York blend together—this the greatest city of endless activity and prosperity. I lose track of whether it is Saturday or Wednesday or Monday only by the absence or appearance of Olivia. Even that is not always a good indicator, as she is usually at the performing arts school, in rehearsal, at dance class, singing karaoke with friends or maybe at a movie. I, on the other hand, spend endless hours searching for some sort of meaning in my days. I remember once upon a time that a recruiter or creative director would call me and literally offer me a job, entice me with higher pay from my current place of employment. Freelance projects would come to me, and I never had to look. I certainly took that for granted. Now all I do is look for work of any sort. I’m not whining. I’m not complaining. I am merely stating fact. I know that I am not alone in this endeavor, this quest to place myself again among the employed. After six months, I start to wonder when or if it will happen. Oh, yes, of course everyone says, “it will happen” “things will get better” “you are talented and you will get work”. And things will happen, they will get better, and I am talented. That said, I have to wonder how much longer, and about the basic shift in the hiring of workforce. Many people that I know who have lost their jobs have relied on unemployment. I did not have the luxury. I am simply at the end, unsure of what comes next.

I am a practitioner of yoga, yogic philosophy (seemingly in lieu of spiritualism) and meditation. I try to take the approach that if I put the word out to the universe, so to speak, if I let my intentions be knows, if I am open to the possibilities, that things will happen for me. I am open. I am sending out the word—and the resumes. I am ready for whatever shift might come my way. But. Nothing is happening. I’m watching and listening very carefully. I don’t expect the gods to send a lightning bolt. I assume it will be much more subtle. So I’ve started to go a little deeper. What is it that I actually want to do. What do I want to be remembered for. I know there is an answer in there. I believe it is to teach in some form. I think at some point it will be to teach yoga, but not yet. Because of current monetary expectations (i.e. kids and college), I know that it has to be something more lucrative.

I have been trying to convince myself that I should be a nurse. I actually think I would be a very good nurse. I am caring and compassionate, smart and mature. But I have spent far too long on the convincing and research part, and not feeling the true calling. I thought for many years that at some point I would get my MA in Art History, and teach at the college level like my ex-husband has done for years. So, I went down that path. Again, the convincing. During my research this little blip stood out: MFA Design. There was the lightning bolt. That’s me. That’s the degree I need, or some similar variation. So I found that Parsons has a MFA in Design and Technology. I may be too late to apply for Fall. The obvious concern is how to pay the tuition. Are there really loans for single moms in need? The prospect of college at age 46 is a little daunting, but could potentially be life changing. I’ll keep you posted.

I get so isolated in this little room in front of the window that now faces a brick wall, that I forget to be a person. I don’t take time for me. I’ve actually forgotten who “me” is. I know that I miss the days of yoga every day and going to dance class. If those are things that I miss, then it must mean that I must get back to them. A really cool site called Groupon sent an offer this weekend for a one-month membership to the 92nd Street Y for $20. Even spending $20 seems out of my meager budget these days, but Olivia and I are going to do this together. I think it is important.

We live close to the Hudson River now, just a couple of blocks over. There’s a riverwalk down the whole length of Manhattan. Much of it is being rehabbed, rebuilt and so much of it is beautiful new parks now. Little did we know that we would walk the whole thing. We weren’t in a hurry, it was sunny and cold, but it didn’t seem to matter. Two and a half hours later, we realized we were both tired and starving. Close to TriBeCa, I remembered a little place our family had eaten several years ago called Edwards. Pulling out the trusty iPhone for directions, we saw that we were just a few blocks away. We had a lovely little shared dinner, and a subway ride home.

A pier on our Hudson River walk.

 

Libby on the pier. Forever the cheerleader.

The river was full of ice!

Upper West Side at Hudson River.

Before this day blends in to the next, I have letters to write, resumes to send, a book cover to design—and maybe even a college application to fill out.

Sun on the Bricks.

Motivation is key while living in a small apartment in New York City. Motivation to get dressed, to go out on the cold streets. Motivation to be a person, and not hide inside. Often I lack motivation. It's so much easier to sit in my sweatpants (a.k.a. pajamas), drink endless amounts of coffee and send out resumes all day. For me to go out requires an agenda, a list of places to go, items needed to be picked up, a travel plan. If things can be put off until another day, they will be. This isn't really something new for me. I am happy at home. I am a nester, and enjoy creating comfort in my surroundings. I work to change things about myself. I try to tell my mind that I enjoy going out and talking to complete strangers all day. But I don't really. Everyone has things about their personality that they would like to change, and some things can be—within reason. We can learn to be better listeners, to be more organized, to clean up our messes, but some things are inherent. By nature, I am quiet, reserved, even shy. My high school classmates will probably remember that, if they remember me at all. Conversely, when I am with people I know well, I can be quite the life of the party. I am funny and engaging. I wish I could learn to mix some of that into my everyday life.

Today I'm looking over a little freelance project I got. Another small potential one in the works. A website design too, but I need a programmer. I am happy to have some work. There is not much money involved, but I have always loved being a designer, and working makes me feel whole. I have always worked, babysitting when I was 10, working at McDonald's all through high school, then at the Mall in retail in college. Straight into advertising right after I finished my degree. My first job? A copywriter. But after having just spent four years in art studios, I was so drawn to the department where people had drawing boards and markers and t-squares. Soon I was ordering type, doing paste-ups and learning the command of marker comps. Unbelievably all this was done without the aid of a computer.

I am a bit obsessed with the sun. In my youth I was probably a sun-aholic. Addicted to being in the sun. As a mom with young kids, we would structure our days around the weather. If it was sunny, it meant we would be outside. Shopping trips were for rainy days. I would never dream of being inside a mall on a sunny day. If it was sunny and summer, we would be at the pool. If it was sunny, summer and vacation, we would be at the beach. Maybe this sun worshipping goes back to the idea of things which are inherent in ourselves, something we are born with, human nature. For my inner sense of peace, I am happiest when I am in the sunlight, outside in the sun and most of all—at the beach. In my new apartment, the sun glints off the red brick walls outside my window, but it doesn't come directly into my rooms. This is quite distressing to me. For sure this workspace will have to be moved to the southeast window so I can stop turning my head, leaning forward and looking over at the sunlight. At least the view will be in front of me. It's an obsession that I deal with. Today it will be dealt with by moving my desk. I just did the "turn and lean" again.

There is no school in New York today. I don't remember why. I have not adjusted to the strange new school system that we are now a part of. So much more could be written on that subject. Olivia is at rehearsal for "Sweeney Todd" all day, her school play. She almost got a lead in the play, which was a pretty big deal for a newcomer sophomore. Last week they had several days off for some kind of state testing. She had rehearsal all day, every day on those days too. So much for a day off. She missed out on the fun time I had moving all our belongings. Lucky her. At least she is having a life. After all, that's why we came here.

My son is back home in Belleville living with his dad. Today he is sick with the flu, 102 fever. It's a very strange feeling when one of your children is sick, and you are not with them. My mom instincts take over, and I want to be there to make him tea, fluff his pillows, bring him cool washcloths. I still miss my mom when I am sick.

 

my handsome son.

So while I struggle with the directionality of my apartment, what I do love is my new neighborhood. Half a block away, on the corner is a magical bakery called Silver Moon. I used to think that New York didn't have great bakeries, until we found this one. Amazing croissants and breads. And a heavenly espresso machine. Not that little one like Starbuck's has, but the big beautiful $5000 machine that makes a real difference in the quality of your coffee drink. Again, I digress.

a little slice of heaven on the upper west side.

And this beautiful little grocery store 2 blocks down called Garden of Eden. For St. Louisan's, it's like a Straubs, but not quite as expensive. 

Time to move my desk so I can work on my little projects—while I look at the sun on the bricks.

A New Window.

It's a new window I look out today. One where the view is no longer tree lined wide streets, but rather looking across at the brick walls of the next apartment building through some steamy windows that need cleaning on the outside. Instead of sun streaming into my large windows, now I have to look sideways through an angled window, and up for a peek of blue skies. I'll miss the view, but the trade-off is that when we come out of the subway now, we are in the swanky streets of the Upper West Side where the pretty people live, college students, families and no longer walking down a block of crackheads, drug dealers and bums. The noise level is 100% different. The culture I recently lived in was one of people who felt the need to talk at very loud levels, yell, shout and then get downright crazy somewhere around midnight. Emergency vehicle sirens wailed at all hours. The walls in that apartment building were tissue paper thin, and the crazy Mexican (sorry, I know that's not P.C.) couple who lived next door seemed to pick middle of the night for their loudest fights.

Yes, living in New York City is very glamorous.

When I first moved here, six months ago, a friend said to me that only rich people should live in New York. I disagreed at the time, saying that most people here are just regular, working, going to school, raising families, getting by. The harsh reality of the economy is such that truly only rich people can afford to live here now. And let me say that I am not one of them. The rent I pay for a small one-bedroom is 1-1/2 times the cost of my mortgage for a 3000 sq ft house in the woods with a pool. This takes some serious lifestyle adjustment. I think today I'm having a major case of the "be-careful-what-you-wish-for" blues.

Visiting NYC several times a year for Olivia's auditions in the past always afforded us a somewhat oblique version of the city. We came with an agenda, appointments and enough money to see a show or two. We always prided ourselves that we did those trips "on the cheap" staying in a friend's apartment, eating little, seeing bargain shows.

Moving here and living in this city every day for half a year now gives you a new insight on the realities of being a New Yorker. First and foremost, find out what is free—the library, museums, walking vs. taking the subway, a one-week gym membership, your first yoga class. Then find out what is discounted or cheaper—student rush tickets to Broadway shows, lotteries for shows, the street vendor for fruit instead of Whole Foods and bargaining for everything everywhere you go.

Yesterday was a big day. When we originally moved to New York last August, we brought a backpack and a suitcase each (a small one because I didn't want to pay to ship it on the airplane.) As I packed for us to move to this apartment, it quickly amounted to at least 50 bags, boxes and stacks of pillows and blankets along with those suitcases and backpacks. With the help of a Man With a Van, we moved from a 4th floor apartment with an elevator across town to a 5th floor walk-up. Not from New York? Don't understand the lingo? Walk-up means no elevator in the building. I like to think that I am in good shape, but carrying those boxes up all those steep flights of stairs, I thought I might pass out, or worse. My heart was beating so rapidly and powerfully I thought there might be a possibility of having a heart attack while switching apartments. Luckily for Olivia, she was at rehearsal all day. The Van Man and I got quite a workout. I paid him almost double our originally agreed upon fee. In my good midwestern conscience, I couldn't haggle.

The rest of the day I scrubbed this space that apparently no one has lived in for a while. Because I am a designer, I had to immediately rearrange all the furniture, bookshelves and cabinets, giving it a complete remodel. I have to make it feel like home for Olivia and I. This morning I got my internet connection set up, and then watched online President Obama speak to a gathering of House Republicans. I drank coffee and ate yogurt. I sent some emails. I write this blog. All in the avoidance of unpacking those boxes. I need to do it to find some semblance of normalcy, but I lack motivation. I feel nostalgic for my old life. I miss Alexis. I miss Zachary. Heck, I miss Olivia because she's always out living her life. I miss my cats. I miss my friends. I miss the sheer amount of space in that big old house.

 

should have had before & after photos...

crooked photo of my little kitchen. we have a microwave again!

cute little workspace.

Okay, I'm inspired now. Going to make this apartment feel like home—at least for the next month. After that, we will see what the view is out the window.

Channeling Julia.

So, yeah, long time no write. Life has a way of taking hold, and twisting you in ways you didn't know you could bend. And I do yoga, so I'm pretty flexible. But, still.

If you've been reading, you know I've been watching the rehab of an old building across the street for months. It's finally all finished, and I was excited at the timing, since I need to move. Upon checking out these fabulous new units—I found out that they are just that—fabulous, which in my world translates as expensive. Actually they are condos for sale, with a studio starting at $350,000. And when you buy an apartment in New York, there are monthly fees plus real estate tax. So you'd better have some serious bucks when you are ready to purchase. I think that will be never in my case.

At least two couples have wanted to buy my house in the past month or so. Unfortunately neither has worked out. Unfortunate for them, unfortunate for me, as it is a lovely house. The setting in the woods is one that you cannot find in suburban living. Yet there it is, with a beautiful pool to boot. It's highly possible that I will find myself living there again in March.
http://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/132-Barrett-Drive_Swansea_IL_62226_1113242513

Let me get back to my title: Channeling Julia. I am often a fan of lite, feel-good movies. There was a point in my life where I shunned such frivolity in favor of more esoteric, thought-provoking viewing. Until my adored college literature teacher told me her favorite TV show was Dukes of Hazard. I was shocked! She explained that it was a great way experience joy by watching no-brainer television. I'm sure she didn't use the term no-brainer in the early 80s, but at that moment, I felt like I'd been given the freedom to enjoy easy-reading and comedy TV and film. Not that I actually needed permission, but it felt good.

Back to Julia. I digress. The movie is lite, but thoroughly enjoyable. The actual character of Julie is a bit underdeveloped, but Meryl Streep as Julia Child is incredible to watch. And her love story of a marriage was fascinating. Okay, it's not a deep movie, but I had a few tears. The beautiful thing about watching was that I felt inspired to write in this blog again. In case you don't know, the story is about a wanna-be writer, Julie, living in sub-par apartment conditions in NYC, who takes on the challenge of cooking her way through every recipe in Julia Child's cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, all the while blogging about the experience. Interwoven are flashbacks of Julia Child's life attending Le Cordon Bleu and writing her book.

I thought, "hey, I like to cook, and I'm pretty good at it. I write, and I have a blog." I'm not sure exactly where this leads, but I want to start writing about my inspired recipes, sharing photos, having dinners. There could be a future in this somehow. I read about a new trend of yoga class with dinner afterwards... I don't know. I'm open to what the future holds.

What my future holds right now is moving. It's been an angst-filled couple of weeks looking for an apartment—scams, brokers, deposits, apartments that are the size of my walk-in closet back home. Last night we finally settled on a cute little apartment on the Upper West Side. We are thrilled with the location, and the place feels a bit bohemian, artsy and very cozy. Not too small. And guess what?! It has a microwave! You would be surprised at what small pleasures can bring you happiness when you have been without them for extended periods of time. Hmmm, a boyfriend? We'll see about that.

For now, here's the dinner Olivia and I cooked last night. Spanikopita from scratch. Amazing.

Next up, adventures of moving across town in NYC.

St. Louis. Frontenac.

Olivia and I were walking home night before last from an alternate subway that we don't usually take. As we passed the apartment buildings on the right, we noticed that one said FRONTENAC. We laughed, and made a little joke. Then we saw the next one said ST LOUIS. As it turns out, these are the two buildings that have been undergoing all the renovations for the past few weeks right outside my window. You know, the ones with the big overflowing dumpster and all the commotion. So I've been sitting here staring at St. Louis. There's some irony in this, I just need to sort it out.

FRONTENAC

ST LOUIS 

 

A couple of weeks ago we went for a walk in the park around The Meer, which is a large lake at the north end. There's also a botanical garden. As we came around a curve, there were these amazing—huge—swans.

I read this interesting article in AdWeek yesterday that stated advertising agencies are hiring again! Wow! Please tell me the exact location of these two jobs. Cause it ain't in NYC. Layoffs abound. Hiring is frozen. Just ask all those recruiters that were listed in the article, cause I called them or posted my resume on their sites. I've contacted several recruiters in the past few days, and it's the same story over and over—no jobs, no one is hiring. Some agencies are doing a sort of preliminary search to see who's around just in case they might want to hire someday. They are mostly considering people who were NOT fired in rounds of recessionary layoffs and cutbacks, cause certainly they are the most qualified. Right, the people who already have jobs. Twisted stuff. So, yeah.

Some people who might happen to read my blog do not like the current government, but I voted for it. I campaigned, went to rallies, I knocked on doors, made calls, even contributed meager amounts of my limited income, because I believe in CHANGE. I know our president was left an awful mess, that could only get worse before it would get better. I know this. I understand it implicitly. But it does not help me pay the rent. It does not help my house sell. I'm a little more than concerned about what happens next. Does everyone feel the shift? It's huge. Everyone has, or will have to, adjust what they believe to be important.

I'm astounded that as a career-professional, I am simply unable to find work, a job of any kind. I'm not whining. Really. I just want to work. I like to work, it makes me feel whole. I have always worked, even when my kids were babies. I had a successful freelance business for years. I had a project the day my grandma died, one 2 days after Olivia was born. I worked nights, weekends, holidays. I was always available, and never said no to a client deadline. I never had to look for work, it just came to me. Now I look 10-12 hours a day. It's a full time job looking for a job. Agencies won't or can't used freelancers.

A call-out to my friends out there have their own business or who know someone who does, or others who work for a company—please think of me for your marketing and advertising needs. I'll toot my own horn! I'm great at what I do. I design logos, brochures, signage, websites, marketing plans and so much more. Check out my work, and please pass it to others: coroflot.com/LisaWillard

The creativity of cooking.

I just ate my second bowl of lentil soup today. Not counting the bites I took out of the pot. And the bowl I had last night for dinner. I wonder how many calories or grams of fat were in those. But, honestly, it was the best soup I've ever had—and I made it. Who knew I could cook so well. Since I don't know if anyone actually reads this blog, I'm going to put my recipe on here anyway. Be warned: I make these things up as I go along, rarely measuring anything.

Lentil Soup
*I used half a bag of green lentils. If you want to use the whole bag, just double everything.

Saute 1/2 diced onion, 3-4 large cloves garlic in olive oil.
10-15 small tomatoes halved. Add in 4-6 chopped carrots.
(I would have added 3-4 small diced potatoes, and some celery would have been good too, or spinach, but any of those would have required me to go to the store.)
Sea salt
Lots of fresh ground pepper
Cumin
Let it cook for a few minutes until the veggies absorb the flavors.

Half bag lentils in pot with 3-4 cups waters + 1 can vegetable stock. 2 bay leaves.
(Or more stock, less water, I just had one can of stock on hand.)
Let it start to boil, then turn down to medium.
Add in the sauteed veggies.
Let the soup simmer until it reaches the thickness you like.
I like it a little thicker, so I let it cook longer.

Garnish with a few crushed pecans and a dash or two of hot sauce. I served cornbread on the side. And a Guinness. As Rachel Ray would say, "Dee-lish!"

So I look up the nutritional value, and this stuff is great for you, low in fat and calories. Yum.

Ready for snow yet?