Central Park

Alice in Wonderland statue close-up.

Central Park deserves it's own entry in my opinion. It was one of the places we stayed the longest and there was something about being there, I can't quite explain.

However, I'm not going to lie...the first thing we did upon entering was try and relive all the on-screen moments that had been filmed here over time. I may have also burst into song a few times...

How romantic...we really hoped to see someone pop the question out on one of these little rowboats.

There were two things I knew I must see while in Central Park; Strawberry Fields, and Alice in Wonderland. The Imagine tribute was beautiful although I couldn't help by be saddened that there were so many people walking on it or attempting to take photos with it. When I saw the names of the countries listed on the stone carving underneath "Imagine all the people living life in peace..." I couldn't help but tear up a bit.

Strawberry Fields forever.

Performers in one of the courtyard areas. These guys were amazing at street dancing and gymnastics.

It took so long for us to find the Alice in Wonderland statue! We finally broke down and asked a few police officers to direct us haha, it was worth it though (Anyone who knows me very well knows how much I love Alice in Wonderland). We were able to snap a few photos in between all the kids climbing and playing on it, which there is most definitely allowed and encouraged!

Quotes from the original story lined the bottom of the statue.

A mad, Mad Hatter.

We could not have asked for a more gorgeous day for a stroll in the park.

New York, New York (pt. 1)

Now I am well aware that these posts are FAR over-due. However, as a way to share my NY trip with those who haven't gotten a chance to see photos and hear some fun stories, I am posting about it months later. Also I really do enjoy having this blog as a chance to look back on all my adventures so...without further ado...

We have arrived!

Jen and Elyse take on the Big Apple! Our trip there was pretty uneventful, we enjoyed pizza and gelato during our layover and arrived in LaGuardia around 11 pm, just in time for the city to really get going. We met Mike in Times Square and headed back to his apartment in Brooklyn for a good night's sleep before all our big plans for the weekend got underway.

You would not believe how badly I wanted one of those hotdogs at midnight.

Look who we found!

We slept in a little bit in the morning, Mike headed out for his last day interning with Glamour magazine a few hours before we left the apartment. We spent most of the day wandering around Manhattan taking it all in. Mike was able to give us a little tour of Glamour in the Conde Naste building which was very cool to see.

Afterwards we mainly stuck to Times Square area and Central Park. Trust me, Jen and I are very visual people and this was like sensory overload!

Hello Broadway!

What a great idea, every city should have these in my opinion.

Pinning up our wishes for the New Year!

Crepes for lunch. Delicious.

Even the baked goods were larger than life. Amazing.

Once Mike was off work we met up with him and headed to the lower east side for dinner and drinks with our friend Brian and two old friends of mine who both lived in NY for the summer, Britney and Angela. The restaurant was definitely a new experience but the food was great and how can you not love all these lights!

"Where Chili Peppers and Christmas Lights meet"

PS. The bar we went to, Death and Co. was awesome in my opinion. If you want someplace unique to check out if you're ever in the area give this one a try.

Kitchen comfort.

Cupcake dishtowel compliments of IKEA

It's a gloomy day outside and I can't help but find myself enjoying the sound of rain hitting the pavement and cars whizzing by the open window. One of the best things to do on a rainy day, in my opinion, is cook up something comforting and in honor of that: a few photos from my new tiny, but lovely, kitchen.

Asparagus, peppers, and onions.

Just a sampling of Evan's peach pit collection.

Bowls of fresh fruit.

Mini bow-tie pasta with grilled chicken and vodka sauce.

I think tonight might call for crab cakes and homemade zucchini bread. Mmmm.

The story behind the name.

In honor of my little blog re-design today, I figured I could do a little update "intro" entry and explain where my blog name came from.

This past May it seemed that all my hard work for the past four years paid off and I was able to walk across that stage (without tripping..shocker!) and received my college diploma. But trust me the journey was rough. As an art major I struggled, such as many other creative types, to find my "voice" amongst so many other talented individuals. It wasn't until my Introduction to Printmaking class that a very wise professor made me realize that we weren't there to learn to be cookie-cutter style prototypes, we were there to embrace individualism. I happened to be having a rough week, due to the fact I was receiving a lot of criticism from a design professor at the time, telling me to stop illustrating and start designing more. I didn't understand this at the time. I felt I was coming up with good solutions to the problems at hand and was able to do what I loved at the same time. I have since then grown from the experience and understood later what I was struggling realize then. However, something that professor did that day stuck with me. He took me to the chalkboard and drew for me a small diagram that looked something like this:

then he pointed in the middle, he said,
"And perhaps here is where you are, somewhere in-between."

Since then I have been able to apply this little saying to so many other parts of my life. I've been blogging for a little over a year now and feel the name still fits. I'm no longer a student, now a "creative professional", struggling to make it in a small but busy city. This world has a lot to offer and I'm smack dab in the middle of it (and couldn't be more excited). So here I am, doing what I still love and trying my best to document all the little "in-betweens" along the way.

Letter to my Father.

Soon it will be tomorrow, in 40 minutes to be exact. In fact, by the time I finish this post it will probably already have hit midnight.

Tomorrow marks two years since the last day I talked to my Dad.

The last time I heard his voice, almost in person, over the phone actually. On my way back to Trenton in the pouring rain, in August. I was supposed to go see him that night, I think maybe it was a Monday although I can't really remember for sure. I called to tell him I was going to the hospital instead, to see my Grandma Helen. She had been getting older and I just happened to be heading home for a week break off work before school started up for the fall and decided I should go in and see her. He told me no big deal, we'll get together tomorrow, go see your Grandma and don't worry about me. The next day my Dad had a heart attack. I never got to see him.

It actually surprises me now, two years later that I can type this without crying, without shaking so much that the incorrect keys get pressed and nothing is in quite a coherent order. It's interesting I chose to talk about this, not on the anniversary of his death, rather the anniversary of the last time we spoke. I'm sure he would have wanted it that way, nobody really likes to recognize the negative things. Instead of thinking about it as the day he died I think of it with that nostalgic feeling we get in the pit of our stomachs. The one where you're sad because something is no longer there in the way you wish it could be. Obviously I will think about him tomorrow and the day after, and perhaps the day after that. But the truth is I think about him on random days most of all. It is why today I chose to write him a letter, the way that mothers do to their unborn children in all the many trendy "cute young couple in the city" blogs I've been reading lately (they all seem to be popping out kids left and right). Perhaps it seems a little odd, writing a letter to someone who won't read it via a blog that I doubt many people even read at all, or notice I post in for that matter. The truth is deep down I write this for me, whether I choose to post it for public acknowledgment or not is dependent on the post and how I happen to be feeling that day. Tonight however, I write this for him.

Dear Dad,
I miss you. I graduated this year, did you know that? Did you think I could do it! And on time! 4 years! Remember that night my freshman year of college when I called you crying, asking what I should do if I never passed my freshman portfolio review? I don't think you knew what to do, it was rare that I called you that upset, asking for advice. That was Mom's area of expertise, she was the one I went to for those sorts of problems. And yet I will never forget that night, walking home from my 6-9 drawing class on one of those nights right as winter was turning into spring, it was still chilly but not cold enough to wear gloves or a snow jacket anymore. And remember when I passed, got into the design program and was perfectly fine just like you said I'd be. The truth was you weren't around as much for those stressful times when I was growing up, the worries about passing classes or failing which is why this phone call took you by surprise I think. It was a few months later that I came to you crying again, my boyfriend was sick, really sick. We sat on your doorstep and you gave me a hankie to keep. Then months after that when you called me and left me a message, telling me you got the invitation to your high school class reunion. You told me you couldn't think of a better girl to take as your date than me. Mom told me you needed me there, you probably felt you couldn't go without me by your side. I remember the invitation on your kitchen table. I remember calling the woman, probably the president of your graduating class, the woman I was going to be someday- organizing banquet halls and tracking people down- and having to tell her what had happened.

I got a kitten by the way. I didn't scheme a way to sneak this one into your house by saying Tara and I rescued it on the side of the road in a box (although that is still one of our favorite stories to tell) I got a new apartment, I move in next week. I don't seem to have a master plan of what I'm doing with my life figured out quite yet but I have had plenty to keep me busy that's for sure. There have been boys and broken hearts, nothing time won't heal, no worries about marriage proposals or anything of that sort haha. One of them played the banjo though, isn't that awesome? He also re-taught me to fish, I use your old tackle box now. I don't think I ever asked him if he knew Rainbow Connection, maybe I did I can't remember. I don't think I would have wanted to hear him play it anyway. We played that at your funeral you know, Kermit the Frog on vocals and everything.

I went to Ireland last summer, it was beautiful, everything I thought it would be. I realize I'm filling you in on portions of my life in an ass backwards order, it's just easier that way I suppose. You would have loved my senior project, would have made you cry of course but that's ok it made me cry a lot too.

Tyler is so much bigger than me now! You would be so incredibly proud of him Dad. He is seriously one of my favorite people, and not just because he's my brother and he has to be. Look at this picture of us and then the one of you and Aunt Sue when you were younger, about our age maybe a little older. It's a fun comparison I think. I know you used to say, "Remember when you two couldn't stand each other?" Everyone was right, sibling rivalry does come to an end one day. He ended up going to Grand Valley, just like I did. I couldn't have been happier. Now thinking of him I'm getting choked up and forgetting everything I have to tell you about.

Perhaps I should end this letter for now, until another day. I still get to hear you though, in a voicemail I have saved. "Hi Elyse, it's Dad. I was just calling to make sure you're doing alright. Alright I'll talk to you later. Love. Bye." Maybe by this time next year I will have made it to Crater Lake, just like you always wanted. Maybe I'll be somewhere else entirely because I know it really won't matter as long as I am happy. Either way I love and miss you.

Love.


Ps. I still bite my nails. I also still smell my hair and am completely afraid of the dark, no worries I'm just as weird as the last time you saw me.

Anxiety and today's cure.

Feeling anxious is the worst, it really is. I’d rather lie in bed all day feeling like I didn’t want to get out then this feeling of panic, pure panic over almost absolutely nothing. “There is nothing wrong with me, I’m fine,” and yet there is something stopping me from truly feeling ok. Talking doesn’t really seem to help because you can't really explain it. You don't feel sad or angry, it's a different feeling. Last night I arrived home from a perfectly wonderful day and despite being completely tired I had a nagging feeling like I couldn't go to bed. I needed to take a drive or do something.

I texted a friend but no response, which was no big deal I’m sure they were busy, it was a Saturday night after all. I certainly could have texted anyone else afterwards. I could have stayed and hung out with the five or so other friends in my house that night. And yet this particular person was the one I wanted to see. I just wanted to say “I know this isn’t your job anymore, to take care of me. And I know I’m fine and I really don’t want to talk about it. I don't care to investigate why and how how I’m feeling. But for a while you used to be my best friend and I just need you right now.” And now typing this out I start to cry realizing that I might not have that whenever I need it anymore. It’s funny, when you meet someone who almost always seems to keep you calm. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful because I am truly blessed, I really am. I have so many people in my life who would do anything for me. Yet this one person somehow always had to ability to make everything go away by just being around.

It is in these moments you realize someone else might not always be there, not 100% of the time. Some things you must learn to deal with on your own. I came to a hard realization yesterday as I shared in a conversation with a few people that I have a lot more growing to do still. We all have self-destructive habits and regrets in life, now is the time where we learn to move forward instead of making the same mistakes. It’s easy to have those “I don’t know where to go from here” moments, and in this moment right now, something is stopping me from being perfectly happy sitting at home on a Sunday enjoying breakfast, the book I’m reading, and the company of my cat. All I know is I’ve experienced the panic attacks and the dread that comes with anxiety and it’s a terrible feeling for anyone to have to endure.

*Four hours later

Instead of immediately publishing the post after typing all that. I saved it, where a few other posts I’ve written go that I don’t really feel comfortable with anyone ever reading. I lied in bed for the remainder of the morning when finally enough was enough. I realized I wasn’t going to miraculously feel better and got up and went for a run. Health-wise this may have not been the smartest of decisions considering it’s about 90 degrees outside and I haven’t been running in a while. I went anyway and pushed it pretty hard. I got to the river after running in an almost full-out sprint and decided to walk along the water for a while to catch my breath. I caught myself fighting back tears realizing I took my frustration out on the pavement and wondering why I don’t do this more often. The minute I stopped running the pit of my stomach ached as the feeling I might vomit took over. Everything hurt all of the sudden and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. But it was a good feeling at the same time, the feeling that you pushed your body to the brink of its breaking point. Truthfully I know I could have run much farther, much faster, and been completely fine, but in the moment it doesn’t always feel like that. I walked along the water until it cut off the sidewalk, sneaking up over the rocks due to this past week’s heavy rainfalls. I sat down and I realized I felt better, better about everything. I knew I was going to cool down for a second, stand up, and run home. The day was just like any other, filled with its ups and downs, and the anxious feelings were gone.

It’s funny how sometimes, if you allow yourself to walk away for a second, you realize everything will be just fine all on your own.

Breakfast at Tiffanys

I got home yesterday from a late bar night. Chatted with my roommates and a few friends, and my friend Collyn (who is currently visiting) and I came downstairs to bed. We were clearly exhausted and going to fall asleep at any moment when I insisted on putting on Breakfast at Tiffanys.

Anyone who has known me for a while knows how much I love this movie. My Mom and I watched it recently because she had never seen it, and when it was over exclaimed "Well that's not what I was expecting. She's weird." The truth is it's a classic for me. Audrey Hepburn in her little black dress eating croissants in front of the big Tiffanys window makes me smile every time.


We got on the subject last night of Breakfast at Tiffanys due to my roommate, Evan, and I finding the perfect apartment, can't really see the connection? Well, we've been looking for so long and I am so happy that something finally worked out. It's truly wonderful too, it has this small sun room filled with windows and painted bright yellow, along with a living room, dining room, kitchen, bathroom, and two equally sized bedrooms! Not only that, it has hard wood floors and a killer light fixture in the dining room. Now, silly as it may be my favorite part of it is that we have a buzzer to unlock the door and a very old mail slot for each apartment in the house identical to the one Paul and Holly live in in Breakfast at Tiffanys. Now if you're Holly Golightly, you just buzz the man who lives upstairs every time you need to open the front door. (You would also keep perfume and a mirror in your mailbox!) I may have to play out this scene once I move in, just for fun.

"Darling, I am sorry, but I lost my key."
"That was two weeks ago. You cannot go on keep ringing my bell! You disturb me! You must have a key made!"
"It does no good. I lose them all."

*Now who does that sound like to you?


Now all I have to do is find an old bathtub and turn it into a sofa, learn the ukulele, move my record player up here, and start keeping my telephone in an old suitcase.