10 Hours In New York City

It finally happened. 

I went to New York City.

I honestly went with a different set of expectation, and I genuinely didn't expect to like it as much as I did. But it was perfect. 

My cousin, Danny, got invited to go preach at a youth camp, and we decided that we'd take a little trip into the city on Sunday afternoon. 

My best friend booked us a hotel in New Jersey, as it was cheaper and had a shuttle we could take into the city (we thought we would use it. We did not). We were going to go see the Statue of Liberty first, however, the New Jersey turnpike decided to hold us captive and not let us pass.

Let me tell you something: I do not understand that thing, and I'd even go as far as saying that I hate it. It's really confusing, there are roads leading in all sorts of directions and people are not nice. People honk at you for trying to merge into their lane. It's apparently extremely unreasonable to expect them to let you in. How dare you not only use one lane until you get to your destination.

Oh, and the honking is ridiculous. Honk for this, honk for that. You'd think they had a bumper sticker that said "if you are breathing, honk!" -- you might think I'm exaggerating, but I kid you not, at one point, I had to pray for the Lord to touch the heart of the man in the other lane to let us merge. I am just thankful that I wasn't driving because I would have burst into tears (thanks Danny -- he doesn't read this blog, he'll never know). 

We ended up on the turnpike four times in one night, literally from 5 pm to 11 pm. Finally, after a lot of dancing, laughing and yelling back at the cars, we decided to end the night. We ended up getting some Taco Bell, and heading back to the hotel to watch friends on TV before going to bed. We did not make it to NYC on sunday night. But we made it bright and early on Monday morning and it was a splendid ten hours. Seriously, we spent ten hours in NYC. How funny is that? We tried to do as much as we could. I wanted to go to the Guggenheim, the Met and Times Square. We only go to see the Times Square, and only because we parked near there.

Side note: Times Square is weirdly underwhelming. I felt a little let down to be honest. 

But we saw other great places, ones that I wouldn't have seen on my own. We took a hop-on-hop-off bus tour (it saved us from having to walk from place to place) and we got to see the city in a day. We went to the 911 Memorial, Oculus Station, Grand Central Station, The Statue of Liberty, Rockefeller Center, the lower level of the Empire State Building. We took a boat tour that showed us stuff and taught us some history. I learned that "my husband", Hugh Jackman, lives in NYC in some village. The bus tour takes you everywhere. 

Each building is unique and its own thing. We went to see the Flat Iron Building (I don't know if that's one word or what) but that building is trippy and I felt like I was in inception. I'ts just a wonky building and it makes my stomach feel funny. I don't know. Nobody every described me as normal. The day was perfect. We ate breakfast at the hotel, and didn't eat lunch until about 4pm. I simply can't wait to go back. There is so much more I still got to do. I still have to go the museums and I still have to see a Broadway show. Can this school year be over so I can start adventuring? 

Look how pretty it is: 

Until next time New York.  

Let's go on another adventure. 

- R. 

Let's Chat: Living on the Edge

 The whole time I sat on the edge of this cliff, I kept thinking to myself how beautiful the view was. I walked from one edge of the cliff, to the other and peeked over. The drop was high; the water was blue and so clear that you could see the rocks at the bottom. Finally, after some gentle prodding, I sat down and let my feet dangle. My mother was freaking out in the background, it turns out that she’s scared of heights. You might be thinking “so are you”, and well you’d be wrong in your assumption. I have no problem with the height; I do however have a problem with the fall.

Falling gives me anxiety, because I know this body would not survive. It just wouldn’t. I literally put something under a table, pulled a muscle and was in pain for four days (insert shrug emoji here). Imagine what falling off a cliff into some water would do to this body. I’d be a mangled, blob of epidermis floating atop the water, the beautiful clear water. The same fear that I had standing on the edge of the cliff is the same anxiety I have when riding a roller coaster, or rock climbing or even climbing a ladder. Yet, I find myself doing the unexpected quite frequently and end up having the best time. The view was truly beautiful, and it was everything I thought it would be and more. It just felt like the air was fresher up there. It made me ponder upon why we let our fears dictate what we end up doing.

Honestly, I wanted to write a funny, self-deprecating post; one where I tell you that my chubby carcass almost died on the way up to these cliffs, or how my brother had to fetch me a walking stick on the way back to the car (like an old lady). I also twisted my ankle while we walked over some rocks; I lost my watch half way there and had to turn around to look for it. (This watch is $25 dollars, and I acted like it was $1000). My knees started screaming at me, and because I’m stubborn I didn’t put on my knee brace. I was sweating so much, I had to take out a wet nap and wipe my face. My nephew looked less tired than I did, and at one point he was chasing my dad. Oh, by the way my dad has actual knee/foot problems and he looked like he had more energy than me. Let’s not forget, that this park also has rattlesnakes, which give me the complete creeps. And yet, I had the greatest time.

So there I sat, on the ledge, looking out at the water and suddenly the fear was gone. I did what I was scared of, and it no longer seemed as scary as it did at the beginning. Mind you, I should still have some fear because my swimming skills (doggy-paddle anyone?) are that of a toddler and I’d probably give up instantly and drown. I started to think about all the times that I didn’t do something because I was scared, or it gave me the heeby-jeebies, or it was unknown. How much I must have missed out on because I let that fear control me. So, I wanted to make a promise to myself this year. Just to be brave. Brave in my walk with God, brave in my relationships, brave in my work place, just brave. What is the worst that can happen? Don’t answer that, because I feel like things could get grim real fast. But you know what I mean … I just want to be brave. Let’s be brave together!  I promise you, the view will be spectacular. This one was!

 

Let's Chat: The Greatest Lesson I've Had to Learn

I can't believe it's almost June. Where did the year go? Time has flown by it seems, and Canada apparently forgot that it's supposed to be spring. It's okay though, life is good. Here's the question of the day: Do you start to think about your life when your birthday starts to creep up on you? Because I most certainly do. How am I in my late twenties? When did this happen? Why wasn't I told?

I thought about it real hard last night, and realized that my life changed drastically when I turned 22. Not on purpose, not by my own plans but because, sometimes you drive off a cliff and miraculously survive. Dramatic, I know. But that's how I certainly felt for most of the years since then. I've had the worst-best times during these last six years. Some of which I wish I never went through, but those times are the times that have aggressively, reluctantly and positively changed who I am and my life.

The biggest lesson I've learned in the last several years, was actually learned in the last year. Life took a dramatic turn again, I ended up right back to the place I had no intention of returning to. Physically, I was back in my hometown. Mentally, I was back to the same mindset that drove me to the decision to leave in the first place. Emotionally, also in the same overwhelmed state that I had been prior to making the big move. I don't know how that happened, but it did. It was awful. I had a weird breakdown in front of some friends. But that breakdown led to finding healing. My life is not hard, there are people with harder lives, and I know that. Life is about perspective, and my perspective was the worst.

I like the picture above, I don't know when I took it. Whether it was an early morning or during an evening ride. It's a matter of your perspective. The same thing can be applied to your life. I always saw what I didn't have, rather than what I did have. This is the lesson I feel like God has been trying to teach me for years. Literally, years! I am a complainer, I know this about myself. I also believed that God is a God of miracles; for everyone except myself. I felt for a really long time that God provided in continuous abundance for people that didn't even work hard for it. I acted like I had nothing to be grateful for. I worried about everything, even when there was never a time that I was going to go without something that I needed. And that was my perspective: negative, envious, critical, and wrong.

I went through "hard" times because I couldn't find it in my heart to just be grateful for all the things I've always had. My friend called me out on it (this is why having good, solid friends is important)and I thought about it. And you know what, she was right. I was incredibly ungrateful. And so I started changing. I spent a month not asking for one thing, just trying to be grateful. Trying not to express my doubts. Trying to always think about the small victories I had. Trying to remember that He (Jesus) is the source of my everything. Everything that I'll ever need, I can find in him. This has changed my life. I struggle everyday, there are still days I express my doubt. There are days that I'm worried about the future. But I'm glad that I'm surrounded by people who constantly remind me of the God I have chosen to serve. I'm moving forward, and I'm learning and changing. Slowly, I'm trying to be that faith-driven person, cause those people are blessed. I want to be a blessed person, more than I am already am. Life is good. God is and has been really good to me. This lesson, although involuntarily learned, has changed me forever. If I ever sound ungrateful, point me back to this blog as a reminder.

(Image retrieved from the bible app)

Be encouraged. Be grateful. It will change your life. It changed mine. What lessons have you learned this year? Tell me in the comments below!

K, bye

- R



Story Time: Poetic Skeletons

My personal e-mail is full of poetry I used to write. Some of it is real depressing, others are SO cringe worthy. Others invoke a certain type of nostalgia, the type that kind of reminds you of the feelings you had when you wrote it and incite you feel it all over again. Poetry used to be my own personal therapy. I wrote it down, because I didn’t want to say it aloud. I don’t know where along the line the opposite happened. If I could, I’d climb some rooftop and yell all my emotions off of it. I’m a talker. I know, surprising! But I want to talk about it all. I want to say exactly what I think, feel, want, need, hate, love, etc. It’s who I currently am. My software provider is creating an update that will help put some sort of filter on this mouth.
 
However, until then, I’m a huge advocate of talking. I want to talk, because talking gets me to the bottom of things. When I'm not talking, something is really bothering me. When I was younger and clearly depressed, I wrote it down. That’s why my personal e-mail saddens me. I keep it because it reminds me of how far I've come, while also reminding me of what a complete tool I used to be. Don’t judge me though, sometimes I was just sad. I wish I could share some snippets with you but you might laugh at me. Although, when has that ever stopped me before? This is me being vulnerable about my past, while also poking fun at myself. These are some real snippets out of the personal vault. These ones made me laugh out loud or chuckle. I will also write down my present day reactions.

1.

Yuck. What is this? No, honey, no. That little blood pump in your chest cavity is only attached to arteries and vessels and stuff.

2.



When I was little, I used to always yell at my parents (after they got me in trouble),"I can never have a happy day." Apparently, I didn't outgrow these dramatics for a long time. I'm still very dramatic, except now, I've experienced true happiness.

3.

This.Doesn't.Even.Make.Sense. Clearly I was taking some creative liberties. But maybe it was just one of those, "it's too good to be true" or "it's crazy, so crazy, it just might work" things. Who really knows. But whatever was happening was so real, it just couldn't be. How could it be? Denial is a gift my friends.

4. 

Once again, my affinity to speak about things I don't understand started young, and has stood the test of time. I clearly had never experienced a heart break. Those things suck. Avoid at all costs. Oh, and if you can avoid making mistakes, do that too. Sheesh Ruth, terrible advice.



Listen...

We all have weird depressed skeletons in our closets, mine just happen to be really poetic (haha). Genuinely though, I just want to let you know, that you can really become a better, mentally stable human if you try. Just kidding (but not really).

I just want to say: everything always seems like a mountain, even when it's a small hill. And even if it is a mountain of a problem, you can still climb it. I know that all those aforementioned moments of pure angst and melancholy are funny now, but back then, they were the biggest deal of all time. Can you imagine if I would have given up in any of those moments, I'd still be living alone in a valley somewhere, shaded by the massive mountain of problems, in a house full of sadness, with a drinking well full of my own tears and... well, that took a steep turn, you get the point.
I'm just here to tell you to keep going, one day, you'll be able to look at those mountain in your rear view mirror and enjoy the view. Sprinkle some hope and Jesus on it, you'll see the magic that can come from that.

Talk to you later,
R.  

Let's Chat: Sibling "Rivalry"

Today’s post is inspired by my co-workers conversation. She was telling me how she’s amused by these hockey coaches she knows. Apparently the other day, they got into a massive yelling match during a hockey game, mind you, not an adult hockey game, but a hockey game of eight year olds. And that now, they are the best of friends, who meet up every week. She’s genuinely confused, and doesn’t understand how that can happen. To tell you the truth, I’ve known that guys are this way for a while. They can literally get into a brawl, only to be besties a few hours later. But is this the case for all men? Is it just some men? I don’t know. Maybe you should ask someone that knows, because I genuinely know nothing.

I grew up in a household of men (previously known as boys) and I’m still confused most of the time. So I decided, that in honour of a belated “national sibling day”, I’d have a candid discussion about what it’s like to grow up with brothers and how it didn’t help me at all for the real world. First, I guess I should describe what my relationships with my brothers are like. We aren’t on speaking terms. . . Just kidding! As if! My family talks all the time, all day, I genuinely wonder whether we’ll run out of stuff to discuss sometime. Anyways, I’ll stick to the subject. Here are some basic stories, so y’all can get an inside view of the Alvarez (my last name, icydk) household:

My one brother is a complex creature. Always trying to pretend he’s not sensitive, but really he is. It’s a fine line. It takes years of experience to realize when you’ve gone too far, or when you haven’t gone far enough. For example, one time, we were arguing. And mid argument, I became a total girl, and went for the jugular. I spilled the beans about a certain person in his life, who was not being very nice to him. There could have been one million other times, where I could have let him know the situation, but instead I waited for an opportunity that gave me the greatest reward. Apparently the reward was winning this dumb argument.
Side note: Don’t judge me. You know you’ve all done this before. We wait. We keep it in our arsenal, and we pull it out in times of war. Don’t even pretend.

Anyways, I realized the time was now! And well, it had the desired effect. He immediately shut down and stopped talking to me. Now, I thought that this would last for a couple hours. Oh boy, I was mistaken. He gave me the silent treatment for AN ENTIRE WEEK. Guys, I mean… I tried talking to him the next day and he was the ice princess ...I mean, Mr. Freeze. On the flip side: He does NOT enjoy being ignored. I would get mad at him often, and I’d go to my room, slam the door, and linger in my own puddle of angry tears (nothing was ever serious enough to warrant this type of lunacy but hey, I was little) and he’d trot up the stairs and knock on the door and ask me to hang out. I would say no. and he’d sit in front of the door and every few minutes ask “how about now? We could be doing so much right now”. Uh hello young man, I am doing a lot right now, I’m over here being mad. He is a solid bud though.

Now my other brother, he’s a gem of a human being (sarcastically and genuinely). I remember one time we were mid fight, I’m pretty sure about who was allowed to choose what we would be watching on the television. And well, I’m up for a good argument every now and then, and was not budging from my position and my seat. Y’all know that we have “our spots” on couches and such. Apparently, I was in his spot. He got up and he grabbed me by my ankles (how rude!) and yanked, yes, YANKED, me onto the floor! Guys, this is hilarious. Like, just use your imagination. Like who does that? Oh, that’s right, my brother. But like I said he’s a gem. On another occasion, I was crying (I don’t know if these stories really put me in a shining light) about probably not being allowed to eat a cookie or something, and he saw me. He called me over, and he allowed me to sit beside him as he played his piano. He played until I stopped crying, gave me a hug and told me that everything would be fine. Everything was indeed fine, but I always remember it. He was also the only family to see my crying after a boy hurt my feelings. He sat down and explained to me that he knew I’d make someone very happy one day, if I treated him as well as I treated them (my brothers) he’d be very lucky dude (cue the ‘awws’).

And this is why friends, I don’t claim to know anything. People are all different. No matter the gender. The real question I often wonder about is how did women end up getting the label of being complicated? Do you know how many conversations I’ve had with these guys and have left super confused. Legitimately all the time. However, there is no better feeling in the world than knowing you got two big dudes that will have your back at the end of the day, and I guess that makes it all ok. Ugh, all this sap is making me nauseous.

In conclusion, I have two pieces of advice.

1. Mothers: Listen, I’ve seen a grown man cry for their mom. I’ve had to go and call my mom and be like “mom, your son is wondering why you aren’t holding his hand right now?” Just because they are boys, it doesn’t mean they are emotionless. If anything, they might be more emotional. Establish a relationship, let them say what they feel; there will be a moment when he is 30 where he’ll call you crying. But don't you worry, his sister will be in the background calling him a big baby.

2. Sisters: learn to be a “bro”. Don’t be so sensitive. Try to take interest in the things they like. Trust me, if you do, they’ll hang out with you more. And give you lunch money and beautiful watches for your birthday (but like, don’t just do it for that. I’m just saying it’s a perk). Also, sometimes they want to talk to someone, someone that understands the “emotional stuff”. This will also give you some leverage for the next argument. Bahaha, just kidddding.  Do it because you love them. Also, you might need a male perspective sometime, and who better to ask than someone who cares about you.

Well, hopefully the next post isn’t as gross as this one. Tell me about your sibling relationships. Should I have wished for a sister?

Let's Chat.

Welcome back to the most inconsistent blog on the internet. I apologize if you've been patiently waiting for me to write something, I'm going to be honest... I've been very uninspired as of late. The reason for this is because I wear my opinion on my sleeve. If I have one, you'll hear it. Maybe I should try and save them, so I can blog about them at a later date. No promises though.

Speaking of opinions, I'm here to let you know mine about several different things that I've been noticing. It's ironic, that I'm going to give my opinion on someone else's opinions, but frankly, I just can't take it anymore. I guess this will be a list of pet peeves, and hopefully I'm not alone on these. But if I am, I will stand my ground on this.

Pet Peeve #1: The person that bashes their exes on sosh meeds (aka: social media)

I've seen it a lot recently and I just don't understand. Listen, sure, that person could have done you wrong, sure they might be the worst. For all I know they might enjoy having a pet snake. Or maybe they like olives. I don't know. But this is my question: why? And why does it have to be every-other-day.  Why do you have to write on your Facebook:

"my ex is such a tool, he literally thought he could call me and I'd answer. Boy, BYE!" (I wish you could hear my voice as I say this)

Uh huh, uh huh, right. You know what I see; a girl who loves the attention and wants people to give her a high five for not answering the phone. This also makes me feel like you might not have any friends, but what do I know?

Don't expect this from me.

Pet Peeve #2: The Comment Section
Oh my goodness, don't do it. Especially on videos about politics, God, Religion or any mainstream issue. Do you know how many times I've made this mistake. I always leave raging!

Pet Peeve #3: Where is my vanilla cake, with vanilla icing?

Why is this not a thing? Why can't I go to a café or something, and get a slice of vanilla cake with vanilla icing? Again, why? 



Pet Peeve #4: Exposing those DMs

Here's a thing I've noticed: pretty girls complain about being single, so obviously guys are going to direct message them. These same girls, decide that they'll expose every single person that doesn't meet their "standard". Again, why? Just stahp! There's no need. Be classy!

Side note: Young man, I know we are all in love with Jesus, but that doesn't mean you have to introduce yourself via DM by saying "God bless you sister". And even less so, don't send that six hundred fifty two  times. If she didn't answer you after the second time you try, just understand that it's not going to happen. Don't be annoying. Run along.

Ok, ok, in conclusion:

Listen, I know this is the purpose of social media. I put stuff on social media all the time. In fact, If I thought it was appropriate to write everything I though on twitter, I probably would. But if I can filter it out, so can you. Also, there are exceptions to the rule. For example, if you are warning the general public about a guy that is trouble (harassment, abuse, murderer) go ahead and put him on blast, but if you are doing it for attention, or with a mean spirit, or simply because you want people to know that boys message you, we don't care. Seriously. Genuinely. Also, I'm not attacking girls, I know some guys have done it too. But let's be honest, how many guys read my blog (if you do, welcome, I'm happy you are here). From the bottom of my heart. however, if you put it out there, I will talk about it with my friends.

What are your pet peeves? Let me know! Leave a comment.

K, Bye. 

Life Update: I Got a Job!

When I first went back to school, I actually had no clue what I wanted to do. I just knew that living that minimum wage life wasn’t for me. I was working two/three jobs and was barely making ends meet. I was working at two different Payless Shoe Source locations (one in Guelph and one in Kitchener) and then I would commute to Cambridge to work at Wal Mart. I loved working at Payless, but hated working at Wal Mart. At the time, I was having the hardest financial struggle I’ve ever had. As if that wasn’t enough, my car was older (he was quite reliable for a really long time – I miss you Cobra!) and he had its own mental break down. I woke up one “beautiful” winter morning and my car didn’t start. I had to call into work and say I wouldn’t be going in, and my manager (who had her own set of on-going issues) was not impressed and told me that if I couldn’t find another way in, she’d have to go in, but I would have to make up the day somehow. At the time, I wanted to be like, “uhm, hello! My car literally won’t start. I live in another city, that has no attaching bus routes, like what do you want me to do? Walk! Because, No.” However, because I’m a respectable human being, I simply said “that’s fine.” I didn’t mind picking up a shift to replace this one anyways.

I ended up having to call a tow truck for my car and got it towed to the nearest mechanic. That mechanic told me that they didn’t do what I needed there and that I’d have to go somewhere else. I ended up have to call the tow truck back, and getting towed to another mechanic. This mechanic inspected my car, and told me I needed a new battery. He told me how much it would cost, and my heart stopped (I needed a new battery as well apparently). I started crying IMMEDIATELY. That had literally never happened to me before. I didn’t have that kind of money and I needed my car to get to work. This, my friends, is the straw that broke the camel’s back. Although, I didn’t immediately decide to go back to school, this was the moment I realized I needed to make a change. Fast forward about six months, and I had enrolled into school. It was weird choice to go into human resources, and it was only supposed to be for a two year program. However, that turned into three, which turned into four years. So, now, here I am. 

I am in my fourth year, with one more semester to go. However, before I can graduate, I need to do a co-op semester. I honestly thought this was going to be easy. My school made it sound like they would find them for us, but that didn’t turn out to be true. I spent almost five months without one, and only one interview (You can read about that here). It was frustrating, my friends and classmates started getting theirs, and there I was without any prospects and nothing lined up. I knew I couldn’t graduate without having one and I was starting to freak out. I had come this far, and how was it possible that God wouldn’t have provided me with one. I had been faithful, I had prayed and I was even trying to stay hopeful. The thing about believing in God, is that faith is only truly at work when you don’t see anything happening. If I had been getting interviews, or even replies to my e-mails, I would have had hope that someone was willing to take a chance on me. But the truth was, that not one person was responding to me, and I started to doubt myself and God.

But alas (yes, I just wrote alas), someone took a chance on the girl that had no experience. I have officially been working for London Hydro for one month. God knew what he was doing when he provided this job to me. I am extremely happy there. I get to do a mixture of things that will help advance my career in the future, all the while experiencing the ins and outs of an established business. Starting a new job is always a little intimidating, but the girls in the office have been great, understanding and kind. It didn’t take me too long before I started to feel comfortable and confident in my abilities. I am hoping and praying, that when my co-op contract ends, they will hire me on (help me pray y’all). Oh, one last thing, there is this really cute boy that takes his lunch break at the same time as me and it’s a random ray of sunshine in my lonely, single, life (hahahaha). 

I even get a cool little badge, to get me access to rooms and areas. 

That is all y’all.

Till next time. 

Hopefully something else new and exciting is happening.