A New York City Christmas

Ho! Ho! Ho! Yes, folks, believe it or not it's that time of year again! This past Saturday, December 12, I spent the day sightseeing in New York City with my friends Debra, Susan, Wendy, Christine, and Ken, checking out how beautiful the Big Apple looks decked out in all its Christmas finery. Debra, our fearless leader, has orchestrated these trips for several years now; Susan and I have been coming along since 2007. The rest of our little group has always varied somewhat, but it's always stayed small since, well, New York City tends to get a little crowded during the holiday season and Debra hates to risk losing anyone!

We caught the bus in East Rutherford, NJ, and it dropped us off in the City sometime after 1PM. None of us were really hungry yet, so we decided to hit Macy's before lunch. Overall their decorations were the same as last year's, except that this year, instead of Shrek there was Sailor Mickey! From the outside, a large, inflatable Sailor Mickey waved at the crowds from atop the awning of the main entrance. Inside, there was a display of stuffed Sailor Mickey toys that were truly adorable: in one hand Mickey held a compass, and if you squeezed his other hand he said several different phrases. Debra, Susan, and I just couldn't resist asking Ken to take a picture of us each holding one. Mickey sure did get a lotta lovin' during those few minutes! But, really, who can resist Mickey Mouse?

After braving the crowds at Macy's to have our moment with Mickey we headed to Bubba Gump's Restaurant for lunch, where Susan got her fifteen seconds of fame with the Bubba Gump shrimp! Before we'd walked inside the restaurant, I noticed the large pink dude with a black hat standing outside the door. I'd no sooner taken out my camera to take a picture of him when Susan says to me, "I'll go stand by him if you want to take a picture." I laughed, smiled, and agreed. Susan stood next to the shrimp, and I got my shot! Priceless! Of course, I did wonder just how much that poor sap was being paid to stand outside in the cold in that silly costume...

I was the only one that didn't have seafood, but being unemployed three times in five years has turned me into a cheapskate. The only inexpensive item on the menu (besides appetizers) was the All-American Hamburger for $10.99 but I love a good burger, and this one was no exception! It came topped with lettuce and tomato and had a side of French fries and a pickle on the side.

The rest of the afternoon passed by in a flurry of activity, and it wasn't long before darkness descended upon The Big Apple. Then it was time for the six of us to make our way over to Rockefeller Center to see THE TREE! Of course, the one thing I will always hate about New York City is the crowds. Beside the fact that I'm a bit of a germophobe, I hate that claustrophobic feeling that overtakes me as I'm being pushed toward my destination by the people around you. Thank God Debra is six feet tall, because all I had to do was keep my eyes on her and I knew I'd never get lost! We managed to make it to Rockefeller Plaza unscathed, where we stayed for quite awhile taking lots of pictures!




















Isn't this magnificent?
















Gigantic Christmas lights!




















Me, Debra, Susan, Wendy, and Christine.

















Christine, Ken, Debra, Susan, me, and Wendy.

And so ended another visit to New York City at Christmastime. The next time we'll see it again it will be December 2010, which seems a long ways off right now but it's really not. After all, it seems like only yesterday that I said this very same statement last year about this year! I can't believe 12 whole months have passed since then, and they'll pass by that quickly again, I'm sure!

A "Wild" Night

Being a writer and an avid reader, I love attending book signings. Since 2001 I've been to several; I was able to not only build up my book collection with everything from enchanting childrens' stories to exciting murder mysteries, but I've also had the opportunity to meet some of my favorite celebrities including actors Bill Cosby and Marlee Matlin, musician Peter Yarrow, and local author Mary Higgins Clark. Tonight, after only a little more than seven months since meeting Marlee Matlin, I was able to attend yet another book signing - this one at Barnes & Noble on Route 17 in Paramus, where I also met Peter Yarrow almost two years ago. But unlike that book signing - and all of the others, for that matter - this particular book signing didn't feature anyone famous - at least not yet, anyway. This book signing was for a brand-new up-and-coming author - who also happens to be a personal friend of mine!

Prior to tonight, Melanie Simcox and I last saw each other some time around 1987, when we were both eight years old and in second grade together at Eastern Christian Elementary School. Thanks to the magic of Facebook I've been able to reconnect with a lot of my old friends, including Melanie. It was on Facebook that I actually heard about the publication of Melanie's first book, Adventures Abroad: The Pearl of Africa, a children's story aimed for kids ages 6-11, which was released Tuesday of this week. Then I heard about the book signing taking place at Barnes & Noble as part of a fund-raising event for Eastern Christian. I decided to go - not only as an excuse to see an old friend again, but also to support her as a fellow writer.

In Adventures Abroad: The Pearl of Africa we meet Addison, a little girl who longs to see what lies beyond the ocean. One night she closes her eyes and makes a wish upon the moon...and when she opens her eyes she finds herself on the shore of an unknown land. Addison must learn to trust a newfound friend as she goes off on an adventure in this strange but fascinating place.

What captured my interest the most about this book - and Melanie herself - was learning that Melanie wrote from experience, having traveled to over 20 countries since high school! I can't say the same for myself, having never even left the United States in all of my 30 years. I admire her for her bravery and willingness to travel to places that some people only dream of or hear about in books, newspapers, and on television. I will definitely have to keep in touch with Melanie and ask her about her experiences at a later time, as I am now filled with curiosity about exactly where it is she has been and the stories she has to tell!

Learn more about Adventures Abroad: The Pearl of Africa at Tate Publishing and on Amazon.com.

Parallel Lines

I know I repeat myself sometimes in my blog posts; one thing I know I've mentioned before is what a voracious reader I've always been and how, especially lately, I'll read just about anything if the subject matter appeals to me. Well, within the last 2 weeks I've reverted back to re-reading some of my favorite American Girl books. I was 7 years old back in 1986 when the original American Girl series debuted; to this day I can still recall going with my mom to the book store by Food Town in North Haledon, where I'd browse the rack of hardcover American Girl books while my mother went in search of the latest novel by Danielle Steel. The series started out tiny, with only three characters for me to immerse myself into: Molly McIntire, who grew up during World War II; Kirsten Larson, a Swedish immigrant living in Minnesota in the 1850s; and Samantha Parkington, an orphan being raised by her wealthy grandmother in 1906 New York City. Thinking back, I don't know why my mother never bought me any of these books while we were in the bookstore or why I never asked for them at Christmas or birthday times; however, by now the reason is irrelevant. No matter what, those handful of minutes in the bookstore were pure heaven to me as I imagined what my life would be like growing up during those periods in American history.

In the 23 years that have passed since its inception, the American Girl series has truly blossomed, now sharing the stories of more than 10 characters spanning a time frame of over 200 years in our nation's history. And while the original characters of Molly, Kirsten, and Samantha still remain dear to my heart to this day, I've since found a much more kindred spirit in Kit Kittredge, who was introduced by American Girl in 2000. Kit is a creative, spunky 9-year-old whose passion for writing and thirst for adventure helps her deal with life as she grows up during the Great Depression. I have found that although I am an adult and Kit is a child, I can truly identify with her: First, I, like Kit, am a passionate writer and know that it takes hard work to get published, which is Kit's ultimate dream. Secondly, just like Kit's family, my family and I personally felt the effects of this country's current economic state - which, ironically, has appeared to have come full circle from the time when Kit was growing up - when I lost my job a year and a half ago and my family almost lost our own house due to foreclosure. I can empathise with Kit as the months pass by and her father has no success in finding a new job because I, too, have been there - and am still there.

The Kit book I can really relate to is the third book in the series entitled Kit's Surprise: A Christmas Story. In this story, Kit and her family are at risk of losing their house; they still can't scrape together a mortgage payment even despite the fact that they've taken in several boarders who pay a weekly rent. Poor Kit's life is fully absorbed with helping her family survive; she assists her mother with daily chores and also takes on a paying job running errands for her Great-Uncle Hendrick. What's worse is when Kit and her best friend Ruthie have a fight that threatens their friendship. Ruthie, who loves fairy tales, feels that make believe can take your mind off of life's troubles, if even temporarily. Having the weight of her family's situation on her shoulders, Kit firmly disagrees with her best friend, and tells Ruthie that she has no concept of what's real and what's make-believe - and this causes the girls to stop speaking to each other only a few weeks before Christmas. Of course in the end it is the very thing that split the girls apart that ends up bringing them back together when Kit writes Ruthie a fairy tale story for a Christmas gift. Kit gets so caught up in her writing - which takes place in a make-believe world where Kit discovers she can make anything she wants to happen actually happen - that when she finally stops writing Kit realizes that while writing her story didn't get her father a new job or assure that her family would be able to keep their house, Kit enjoyed writing her story and it really did help take away her troubles if even for a little while. I feel that same way, and since moving to this new apartment have tried hard to write a little something every day because, just like Kit, while writing doesn't give me a job again, it does allow me to relax, breathe, and push aside my problems for a bit which truly does make a world of difference in my life.

Moving On

As of yesterday it's officially been one week since my family and I moved into our new apartment. And as we go through each new day here in our new home, we are more and more convinced that none of this happened by accident - this was definitely "A God Thing." For only God could have orchestrated everything to work out so perfectly in the end. After all, I don't believe we would have ever found this place in the time frame we did had I not found our real estate agent, Stephanie. When she gave me the printout of the listing for our apartment, it had only been on the market for 2 days! And as soon as I walked inside, something in my heart told me that this was definitely going to be "our" place. In the end, we had to downsize from a house to an apartment, but that was something we knew we'd have to do. Thankfully, we've gone from a house that we were never been able to maintain and 35-year-old appliances to a newly renovated apartment with fresh paint, beautiful new carpeting and brand-new appliances, as well as attic and basement storage privileges. We've downsized, yes, but at the same time we've also upgraded!

Thankfully, despite the fact that we're still getting settled in, the initial transition has gone MUCH easier than any of us thought it would - which, I feel, was helped in part by the fact that we were able to stay in Hawthorne. Even so, I am most impressed at myself, because I had visions of being a depressed, sobbing mess for at least a month since I'd be leaving the house I grew up in after 30 years. Although I was initially very upset last Monday when the movers arrived and I watched our house slowly but systematically being emptied out, I've had to go back to the house several times since then for various reasons and I've noticed that while the empty house does look weird - it almost looks abandoned - I no longer feel that awful, helplessly sad feeling that I did last Monday. Now, instead of mourning what I've lost, I've officially begun to accept this as the closing of one chapter in my life and the beginning of another. I'll never forget that house and the three decades' worth of memories that go with it, but now I can also begin to build new memories at this new apartment. The only exception is that this time around, I know I won't end up living here for 30 years before moving on again!

Where DOES All This Stuff COME From, Anyway?

I remember asking this same question back in April, which makes me realize just how long my family has been dealing with this whole crazy situation. But at any rate, things FINALLY seem to be coming together, and while part of me is nervous and scared at what the future holds I am also trying to view this as a sort of adventure. We've got the keys, so the new apartment is technically ours; each time I come through that door and walk up that staircase I feel more and more at ease. I'm eager for this weekend to be over with because the movers are arriving at 8 AM on Monday to start moving our furniture! You see, I'm one of those super-organized people - even somewhat anal, I suppose - and I absolutely HATE seeing my belongings packed up in boxes! For instance, on top of my dresser I've got one box full as well as an entire backpack full of my journals, notebooks, and writing-related books. I've always kept those items tucked away inside several of my dresser drawers, so of course I'm absolutely ITCHING to get my dresser set up in my new bedroom so I can unpack those things! It's killing me, absolutely killing me!

So as you can imagine, my room is just inundated with stuff - some of which is packed, and some of which is not. For my entire life I've grown up in this bedroom, which happens to have the largest closet space in the entire house - so of course, not only have I stored my own belongings in that space but lots of my parents' and sister's things as well. I've put up with it all these years because it was just easier than fighting over it (which is part of the reason I'm in counseling now, but that's another story LOL). Now the majority of these things - my own stuff included - will be going into permanent storage in the attic or down in our section of the basement because I am downsizing my personal bedroom space in a MAJOR way: I will have absolutely NO closet in my new bedroom! Since this is technically a 2 bedroom apartment I volunteered to use the sun porch as my room because I knew my sister would never go for it. Call me a pushover - again, that's part of the reason I'm in counseling - but...whatever. I'll adapt. I'll squeeze, I'll squish, I'll leave some of my things packed in boxes. I'll buy some underbed storage bins at IKEA. I also have a foot locker I can put things in. And my parents have a wardrobe and an extra chest of drawers that we're going to stick out on the landing at the top of the stairs to utilize as storage space. So I really DO have options.

It's just the packing itself that sucks. It takes so much effort! Thank goodness my father has easy access to boxes - with HANDLES. That makes it a little easier, but I still hate packing. Not only is it work, but it's a signal that this moving thing is really, truly permanent. After tonight, I wont' be sleeping in this room anymore. I'll never see this wallpaper again. No more annoying sloped ceiling. No more closets! And no more Window Man.

But I suppose I'll adapt. Of course I will. I have to. Because this is one of those not-so-fun aspects of life that can't be changed. At first, it will be hard driving past the house, and it will feel weird to call this apartment "Home." But after awhile, the apartment WILL become "Home" and my room will become mine, and the house...will become someone else's. Forever.

Our New Digs!

Well, it's official! My family and I have found ourselves a new place to live! Unfortunately we had to downsize from a whole house to an apartment, but thank God we don't have to leave town! We are now going to be living closer to the center of town; the library, my favorite hangout, is only a short walk across the railroad tracks and down the street. Goffle Brook Park, my second favorite hangout, will be a much closer walk now as well. And the post office is right around the corner. The closing on our house is this coming Wednesday - the day before Thanksgiving - but we are moving into our new digs on Monday. The movers arrive at 7 AM, which I'm not thrilled about, but I am really excited to get my furniture into my room and start settling in. So even though I might be grumpy, the early morning wake up call will be beneficial to me in the end!

I can't wait to take pictures of the apartment in the daylight, but tonight and last night my dad and I began bringing boxes over so I decided to take a few pix with my cell phone for the time being just to begin documenting this momentous occasion!

This is a photo of the landing at the top of the staircase. Although you can't see it, there is a huge amount of space to the left of where I was standing and behind me as well; this is actually a very good thing because we can utilize this extra space for storage. We weren't quite sure at first where we were going to go with a few pieces of our furniture (namely our wardrobe and an extra chest of drawers I am currently using in my bedroom here at the house) but they will be a perfect fit for this landing.

This is the doorway to the heated sun porch, a.k.a. My Room. The apartment technically has only 2 bedrooms, so I volunteered to adopt this space as my own since I really want to see my sister get something bigger and nicer than what she's got now. In a sense, she and I are actually swapping spaces, because right now at our house she's got a small room that was once a den and I have a full-sized bedroom. Now she'll get a "real" bedroom that's bigger than what she has now and I'll be the one going into a smaller space that's not a true bedroom. Funny how things work sometimes, isn't it? But I'm okay with this, because my dad and I brainstormed and think we've figured out the perfect layout so that the necessary furniture fits in the space allotted to me. It's about 3feet smaller than my current bedroom, but even though it's going to be a little tight it WILL work. The only thing I will probably end up having to do is buy a smaller desk for my computer.

This is the kitchen. It's not an eat-in kitchen like we have at our house, but that's okay. My mother loves it anyway because everything is brand new: The cabinets, the countertops, the microwave, the stove...even the refrigerator, which I didn't take a picture of yet. It's not even plugged in at this point, and there is still blue tape over the drawers. Pretty "cool" don't you think? There is also a large walk-in pantry to the right of the refrigerator that has four nice, deep shelves for storing dry food items in. I think it's probably comparable to the two skinnier pantry areas we have at our house, if not bigger. Again, I think my mother will like that.

So I am looking forward to this new chapter in our lives unfolding and seeing where it will take us. After living in the same house my entire life this move is definitely a bittersweet experience, but I try to look on it as an adventure of sorts. Sure, it will be weird to come home to this apartment from now on rather than our house, but after awhile it will become second nature and it won't feel as weird anymore. Besides, I know that even though I won't be in the same building anymore, I will always have the familiarity of my things to depend on. I can write stories and poems and check e-mails on my computer just like always, watch TV and DVDs on my TV like always, and I can write in my journals and read my favorite books in the comfort of my bed just like always, too. I'll just be doing all of these things in a different place than normal. But that's okay, because I feel that this is where we're meant to be now.

God is good.

Someone to Watch Over Me

Tears sting my eyes as I step into the empty room. Don’t be stupid, I say to myself as I look around. It’s just a house. Unfortunately, this is the only house I’ve lived in until now. There are way too many memories lingering within these four walls, and it hurts to know I won’t ever be coming back. You’ll get over it, I think, knowing that eventually, I will. By this time next year, it won’t matter anymore. And maybe it won’t. But it does now. I lean against the doorjamb, my gaze lands upon the two windows on the wall straight ahead of me…and that’s when I see the Window Man staring back at me. He doesn’t smile at me like he normally does, and I realize that he’s probably just as sad to see me go as I am to leave him.

I guess you could say that the Window Man was my imaginary friend. He definitely wasn’t real. But at night, whenever I looked at those two windows from my bed, what I saw were not windows with curtains on them but rather a protector, a bodyguard, who watched over me as I slept. The bushy eyebrows, the large, telling eyes, and – if I looked at him from just the right angle – the wide, toothy smile underneath that great big mustache comforted me as a child. I don’t really remember when it was that he and I first met, but once we got to know each other, he never left me. Soon enough I realized that he didn’t just come out at night, either – he watched over me all the time. He saw me happy, sad, sick, and healthy. He watched me play rounds of Pac-man and Pitfall with my friends after school. He listened as I played my record collection over and over (and over again). Then he watched me grow up and come into my own, leaving me alone as I filled pages in my journal, or pounded out poetry and short stories on my computer. He watched me Scotch tape posters onto the sloped ceiling above my bed, but didn’t get angry when I discovered upon taking them down that the tape had also peeled the paint right off the wall. He never complained when I watched TV at one or two in the morning, laughing along with me at the jokes of Jeff Dunham and Gabriel Iglesias. He’s learned all the songs Stevie Nicks has ever written, and has never eavesdropped on any of my phone conversations. He knows me better than anyone…and now we have to say goodbye for good.

I can only hope that whoever takes up residence in my room next has an imagination like mine, and that the Window Man will watch over them, too.