One Decade Later

As everyone is well aware, this September 11th marks 10 years since my city, New York, was attacked. I was 16 at the time … the time has flown and I am now a few days away from celebrating my 26th birthday. It’s wild to me that a decade has already passed. I remember when I was in college, it was two years later and that wound was still raw. I was talking to a friend from home and we were discussing how people from outside of New York really didn’t understand. My roommate at the time overheard this and was mildly offended … they were very close to the Pentagon and also felt a real sense of tragedy. She was right and I immediately felt bad for saying something like that It’s true that what happened in DC was terrible and just as unthinkable. But for whatever reason, I just feel that being in New York, while there is a sense of ‘life goes on,’ there is also a constant reminder of what was lost. I can’t imagine 10 years later she is sitting at home blogging about it or still cries whenever she thinks about it.

In the ten years since 9/11, I have never gone down to the site of the towers. I could never really bring myself to get there. Once, I had a job interview in Jersey City and I had to take the Path, which has an entrance at 70 Vesey. Coming out of the station, it happened so quickly and I was so shocked that I don’t really count that as a seeing it. It was more pure horror and sadness. So I proceeded to run away without looking back. Today I had a half-day from work and it was too beautiful to go home so I decided to go for a stroll. My initial destination was Battery City Park, but I think subconsciously I knew exactly where I was headed. I don’t know what possessed me … I was so drawn there. I felt like a woman on a mission. Seeing the new tower that is currently being built didn’t really strike me. I had no sense of the largeness of the site. I crossed over to Liberty Street where I could really assess the grounds. Heartbreaking. It was then and it is now.

I even went into the WTC Visitor’s Center where I paid $15 to relive that day. A note said that all proceeds went to the victims’ families. I plan on confirming that. I didn’t stay long because I was completely disgusted by some of the people there. A gentleman yapping on his phone asking someone, What, uh, what, firehouse was this one from, yada, yada and teenage siblings bickering with each other. I totally separated myself from the group and scanned the wall for photos. Then I scanned the wall for the names. And then I started crying. That must have been the common emotion in that particular corner because there were two boxes of tissues just sitting there, as if someone knew I was going to breakdown. I could have been there two minutes or I could have been there two hours, I can’t be totally sure.

I am completely envious of those people that can visit downtown Manhattan and the site of the Twin Towers and feel like that part of their life is over. To just be able to look around and think, oh yeah, that was terrible. That it’s nothing but a somewhat distant memory at this point. I wasn’t ready to visit 10 years ago, and I’m not sure I ever would have been ‘ready.’ I can’t say that I am happy that I went or that I got some sense of closure from visiting. I can only say that I’ve been there … that I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Maybe when the actual memorial is open to the public, once the people have left, perhaps in another 10 years, before I turn 36, I will go back. I will always feel sad when it comes to 9/11. Sad for the people whose lives were truly affected, sad for the people that I love that lost, sad for New York, and sad for what could have been and didn’t have the chance to be.

It’s totally true – we will never forget.

Currently lusting over ...

God, there is something about these Miu Miu booties. I am totally salivating over them. I know that if I bought them though, they might sit in my closet (on prominent display, no less) and not get worn. I'm definitely not cool enough for them, but a gal can dream.

Week of I Can't Remember: Essie, Aruba Blue

I can't remember exactly when I got this, but I can't deny anything that has to do with Aruba. It called my name, for sure. And while I have never seen this color in Aruba, I'll take what I can get when we are dealing with terrible weather at home. This gets me thinking that I need to buy my ticket for December!

Day of Days

It finally happened. Like for real, happened. Officially official … the whole deal.

As of 5:47pm, April 21, 2011, I have officially been hired. That’s right, HIRED! Besides being beyond thrilled at the idea that I am working for a real deal company, doing something that I like, and having a group of co-workers, I am so relieved. Relieved that I don’t have to job search anymore (at least for a long while). For the first time in about three years, when I got my daily Cynthia’s Cynopsis, I deleted it. Like totes trashed it, not to be seen from or heard from again. No reason to keep it, want to know why? Because I am gainfully employed.

There is a real ring to that. It’s music to my ears. I woke up this morning and thought, is this a dream? How could this even be? But alas, I pinched myself and it was not a dream. The phone call I had the night before was real! Really, real! As you can tell, I am very excited. I don’t know the last time that I felt this jubilant. There are no words that would aptly describe how I feel right now, but I know for sure that there has been a significant change in my life. This will forever be what I refer to as my first job. As my launching pad, as some kind of life shaping step that I took. Maybe that is a bit of a stretch, but at this exact moment, that is how I am feeling. I feel like I might burst with possibility. It’s unlike anything I have ever experienced. The only thing that I even equate it to would be going away to college Freshman year. Even that though is not exactly the same because it was totally time-bound. This feels infinite.

In less than 20 hours my entire outlook has changed. Doesn’t it seem sunnier and more lovely than usual? Weren’t there bluebirds chirping at your window this morning? I think they even came into the apartment, helped me clean up AND get dressed this morning! (Or maybe that was the cleaning lady, Ruby). I feel like I am a walking advertisement for those depression drugs. I used to have a dark cloud hanging over me, but now, it’s gone! Just like that, MAGIC. No pill necessary, just an offer letter.

Everyone keeps saying that they are so proud, that I deserve it, and you know what?, I DO. I fucking deserve this. Sorry if my foul language has offended someone, but it’s true. I am modest in so many ways, but not about how hard I have been working toward this moment. I really do deserve it. This is the way that it was meant to be. Working the past three years and not being totally happy has made me feel grateful, humbled, and totally lucky that I have this opportunity now.

When I went to my cousin’s wedding last year, I looked really nice. I knew that I was looking good too (by the by, I spent a fortune to look that way, but that is neither here nor there). Anyway, I told myself that if anyone complimented me, I would say ‘thank you.’ Not, ‘oh, no’ or ‘you don’t have to say that.’ And it was the right thing to do. When someone compliments you, you thank them. It’s not being self-centered or conceited ... it's being respectful of them and their opinion. So the next time someone says to me, ‘Nina, congratulations on the job,’ I am just going to say, ‘thanks so much – I really appreciate that.’

And I do. I really, really, really do.

Nas - If I Ruled the World

God, I forgot how much I love(d) Nas. This is one of my favorite jams. He played at Cochella today and I think I might have died if I saw him. I already decided that I am going to go next year. Between now and then I am going to work on how to be a better hipster.

Perhaps I should spend more time in Brooklyn. It will be good practice for me.

Week of April 12: Essie, Velvet Voyeur

I had my fill of the light colors and had to go back to my dark roots. I wanted to get a new hue and the lovely lady at my nail place helped me pick this one out. My dad called me once and said, "Hi, is this the voyeur?" In his defense, I had just told him that I was toates watching the people in the hotel next door doing it ... so it was a bit fitting that this color suited me (and my favorite weekend activity) so well.

I think they are finally getting the idea that I like my nails short. Like, real short. In order to illustrate how short I like them, I say that I don't want to see any nail if I am looking at the back of my hand. That is understood, by any nail technician anywhere, without a doubt.

La Dolce Vita: 2011 Trip to Italia

This post might be a little overdue, but I gots thangs going on! MV, Sissy, and I recently returned from our latest trip to Rome, where we had the most fabulous time. Although things got off to a rocky start (I locked myself in a bathroom at Fiumicino Airport and then almost passed out at baggage claim), we were able to rally right away to enjoy the rest of our vacation.

This was to be a slightly different trip than we had ever experienced. We actually stayed at a friend's apartment in Monteverde which is a little outside of Centro Storico. The name of the game was to save money where we could (e.g., accommodations and travel) and splurge on the things that were important, mainly, FOOD. And we did just that. On travel days, I opt out of food and drink all together. I find it better not to test the limits of my body because lord knows, it just not the time. So by about 1pm Rome time, I had about almost a full 24 hours with no food. We went to Trastevere first and I put the most delicious pizza in my mouth. I can't be sure what was on it exactly because I literally stuffed it into my mouth without properly appreciating it, but it was hella-good. Like, life changing good. Or maybe that was just my belly talking.

The trip was a bit of a blur (especially remembering it 2 weeks later) because we packed so much stuff in, but we still did the things that we wanted to and they really revolved around restaurants. Whether it was fiore di zucca and penne alla carbonara in Campo di Fiore, or spaghetti alle vongole and roasted lamb at Trattoria da Luigi, the Volpe gals did not go hungry. We started every morning/afternoon at Al Forno where we had pizza that would consistently make me cry, and ended every day at Giolitti, where I tried to add as many flavors of gelato on a cone as humanly possible. When they asked if I wanted it 'con panna' the obvious answer was yes, but what I really wanted to say was, let me back there and I will bathe in that fresh cream ... smear it all over myself and save it for later. I can't imagine I was the only one to feel this way.

In between all the eating, we even made time for a short trip to Siena, where we had a private tour lady take us all over the city. For one night we splurged on a hotel room. It had a giant whirpool tub and I took a bath for the first time in about 10 years. It was glorious (both the jets and the city), although I have a mental picture burned into my brain of Sissy in the tub with bubbles strategically positioned over her lady parts. Apparently she was 'having trouble washing her hair,' but I think she just wanted to see what my reaction would be to this bizarre request. (For those that are wondering, me washing my older sister's hair was equal parts horror and sick love.)

We met up with friends, and made some new ones, watched endless amounts of Sex and the City, had a shower that was possessed by the devil, and were completely shut off from the real world. A Jo Bro and the girl from Twilight broke up!!! Can you even believe it?!?

It was such a great trip and I am already looking forward to our next one. MV has gotten it in her head that she wants to buy a little apartment in Rome. I am totally pushing her in this direction because I envision myself heading there for a long weekend, or week, or a month, or running away for good and setting up shop. I feel Italy, and Rome in particular, in my bones. It's a place that is so special to me. I almost defy people to say they don't like it. And if they do, then they are clearly not people that I want to know.