10 Things I Learned from Spending an Entire Summer in NYC

When 60-degree day temps start to roll in, I take it as my not-so-subtle clue to let go of what was. Dear summer, I’ll miss you, but rest assured that I will forever hold on to the annoying, extremely irritating, somewhat scary but always practical lessons you’ve taught me.

1. Never spend an ENTIRE summer in NYC. It’s not natural, and quite frankly it’s ridiculous. To all those people who told me “it’s okay.” “NYC is great in the summer.” “it will be a nice staycation.”… you sold me on a pipe dream. Summers were made for quick weekend trips to the Hamptons, DC, The Jersey Shore (what can I say? I’m a Jersey Girl) and of course Essence Fest in NOLA.

2. Sipping champagne when you’re thirsty seems like a good idea until it’s not. Even during a mild summer, certain temperatures are just not conducive to such indulgences. I love a good boozy brunch as much as the next New Yorker, but when the sun hits you in just the right spot, problems can arise. Put the glass down.

3. And on that note… Stay Hydrated. It sounds like common sense, but that one time you forget to have a little water before you leave the house, end up standing on the 2 train from 125th to 34th (with your overnight bag in tow) and have to stand through a presentation on kids’ holiday toys… (Gift Guide season comes early when you’re an editor)… that could be the time you pass out, get driven to the ER in an ambulance and end up spending the day in NYU’s ER with a saline drip in your arm. Just saying.

4. Biker shorts really should be worn under every dress and skirt. Yes they are annoying, but no matter how confident we may be with our bodies, it’s just not ladylike to flash random strangers on the street. When that air comes up from the subway grates nobody looks like the portrait of Marilyn Monroe in a white dress. So to the countless New Yorkers I unintentionally showed my ass-ets to this summer…apologies. It happens.

5. Sam Smith (much like Adele) should only be listened to when feeling 100% emotionally stable. Because even then, there’s still a 50/50 chance you could get caught up. I love Sam. He’s great. But he will have you looking like one flew over the cuckoo’s nest if you let him. Not even a pair of $500 dollar Lanvin shades can hide an “In the Lonely Hour” moment… on a crowded 1 train… on your way to work.

6. Never dress casual on a summer Friday. Between Memorial Day and Labor Day, casual Friday’s in the City don’t exist. The week you risk it, there’s a 99.9% chance you’ll get a mid-day text inviting you to a rooftop happy hour, an email for a networking mixer will magically appear in your inbox or the guy you liked but all of a sudden stopped hearing from when the weather got warm will want to meet up for drinks. So always dress appropriately or at the very least keep a sundress and a pair of high-heeled sandals in your desk drawer.

7. NYC summers will make you question your readiness to be married. It’s natural. During hibernation season it’s easy to think that you’re physically and emotionally prepared to handle all the responsibilities that come along with being legally bonded to an amazing man that God hand-delivered to you. And then June hits…prayers to meet “the one” grow scarce, PB&J sandwiches for dinner become the norm, and the thought of spending weekends washing clothes, cleaning your apartment and preparing Sunday dinners start to cause mild (but memorable) anxiety attacks. Not to worry though, you will soon enough be singing “I am Ready for Love.”

8. “Successful” dating in NYC is hard. “Successful” dating in NYC during the summer is damn near impossible. It’s a proven fact that nice temperatures equate to the need to feel free. Free from clothes, free from a demanding job and DEFINITELY free from any relationship drama. On the bright side, NYC is not LA or Miami for that matter… Cuffing season is ALWAYS around the corner.

9. When you’re in your late 20’s you no longer own the night, you just lease it. Oddly enough this bit of insight was given to me by a guy I met on Tinder who parties WAAAY more than I do and is almost 10 years my senior. BUUT while I hate to admit it, he was right (and quite attractive…otherwise I’d probably be offended). Overnight you go from a party-all-night 22 year-old to someone who CLEARLY can’t hang past two glasses of wine. Take it in. Embrace it and be happy for when that text pops up on your phone with dets for the next day party.

10. There are far worse places to be. Don’t get me wrong… I will never (and typically I don’t use that word but I find it necessary in this situation) again spend an ENTIRE summer in the City, but with that being said, there really is no other place like it. If concerts in the park, happy hours overlooking the skyline, weekend street festivals, back”yard” barbeques, Target First Saturdays and free museum Sundays, reggae jam sessions in BK, late-night dinners at La Marina and a 35-foot sugar baby in Williamsburg aren’t enough to keep you busy, there’s a good chance no other place will. After all… it’s New York friggin’ City.

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TODAY Was a Good Day

 

Somewhere in between talking my sister off the “I’m turning 30” ledge and sucking down my mango margarita at Toloache NYC this afternoon, I managed to grieve an entire life I was never meant to live. I, for one, have never been the type to make a huge deal of my birthday. Aside from going on an excursion to DR for my 25th and a few skating rink parties in my prepubescent years, my birthdays have been rather…well…uneventful. “One year older, one year wiser” is how I believe the saying goes, and as a self titled “intellectual thinker” I’ve always welcomed the latter as reason enough to look forward to my special day. But this year… LORD have mercy…THIS YEAR was different. I think if God came down and told me I could trade in a year of wisdom for even two more weeks of 27, I would have said “you know what, I may just take you up on that.” In my head I was okay with being a 27 year old editorial assistant living paycheck to paycheck with no baby, husband or house (did I mention money?) in the foreseeable future. Wrapping my head around all of that as a 28 year old… well it just seemed too much to handle.

A few days after my trip to Paris in mid January, I remember thinking, “omg, oMG, OMG!!! This is not happening. I am not really turning 28 this year.” Ladies and gentleman, this is what psychologists would call “shock and denial.” And trust me– I recognized it at the time for what it was, but before I could even email my therapist for a few sessions on her couch to “reverse” what I was feeling, it was obvious that I was going to have to see this grieving process through to the end.

What followed was intense concern. Granted, I’m not the type of person to stress out over things, ruminate on issues I can’t change or get caught up in feeling bad for myself, but 28 was proving to be a whole different beast. For weeks my mind vacillated between “you’re doing well, you’re on the right track” and “so you’re really going to be a 28 year old editorial assistant, living paycheck to paycheck with no baby, husband or house (did I mention money?) in the foreseeable future?” All it took was a couple weeks of this tug-of-war with my head and my heart before I ended up at despair and depression. (Before I go any further I have to address how AWFUL these words sound. On the same note (and sadly) they are a perfect pairing for how I felt. UGH!) It’s true. Even the horrific acting on the Lifetime network (which I was watching for weekends at a time) was moving me to tears. Thankfully, being the intellectual thinker that I like to think I am, during my last weekend of moping, between a morning of “Black History Month movies” (read: any movie with a black main character) and an afternoon of “we met on the internet and they tried to kill me movies,” I realized it was finally time for me to not only move on to, but to also clearly define my recovery.

In the week leading up to my big 2-8 I made a few promises to myself. 1) I will never allow other people to define how far I go in life. 2) I will stop sitting on the talents God gave me. 3) I will embrace the plan He has set forth for my life and actively work towards the future I envisioned 4) I will make a ridiculously large sign and wake up extra early to spend my morning on the TODAY Plaza for my birthday. Which leads me to “today” (after an extended evening nap I’m a little delayed with my entry -being on time was never my strong suit )… Not only did my sign grab the attention of Al Roker (my favorite TODAY anchor) and producers of the show, it made “national news” (I’m using this term loosely) and was even tweeted by my managing editor (kinda cool).

In the future I still want the baby, husband house (did I mention money?) I always dreamed about in my younger years, but today I celebrate where I am, the wisdom I’ve gained and the amazing experiences that are sure to come my way. It wasn’t my ideal life at 28, but you know what… these things happen.

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