Meet the Fockers

It's official.

I'm one site audit, one set of time sheets and a few hours away from freedom. Holiday freedom that is.

I consider myself one of the lucky ones in that each year, my office is closed between Christmas and New Years. The exact dates change every year based on what day of the week the holidays fall on, but this year we're off starting tomorrow through Wednesday January 2nd. It's nice getting "built-in time off" to spend with family at the holidays. Especially when you're in a relationship (newly so or old pros) because it gives you ample time to hang with both sets of family and no one gets all "but you were only here for 4.25 hours and I TOTALLY know you were there for longer" on you. That's the worst.

So, this year I'm heading down to North Carolina with the boy and his family for a week of southern-loving-christmas-having-all-out-family-fun. I'm excited but let's be real, it's my first time meeting this side of the extended family (i've conquered the parents already) and that knocks everyones nerves a little bit. Lucky for me (and everyone involved) I'm not afraid of wine....or gin.

Saturday morning bright and early we're loading into a van with boy's mom, dad, sister and sister's friend for a pain(ful)less 8-hour-all-day-my-leg-is-cramping-I-have-to-pee-I'm-hungry-you-stole-my-arm-rest-no-stopping-let's-get-there-before-dark car ride to the Outer Banks.  Are we there yet?

I'm usually pretty adaptable in any situation and have had my fair share of awkward relationship-family trips. The highlights include an extended family who wasn't down with my faith (and by down I mean they hated it), deer hunting on the regs (I hate guns), and three nights (in a row) on an air mattress with other family members inches from my head. And guess what? I survived. See, told you I was tough.

Yes, meeting the family is always a gamble. How will it go? Will they like me? What if I don't fit in? and is often sprinkled with "I'm-starving-but-we-already-ate-I-should've-packed-snacks" "I-really-need-to-pee-and-cousin-it-has-been-in-the-bathroom-for-an-hour" moments but in the end- it's worth it, even if you sleep on an air mattress.

This year, with my best friend, in a relationship where things are going better than ever, I'm certain it will be wonderful and I'm (gasp!), even excited.

I'm looking forward to spending my built-in-time-off exploring the Outer Banks, a place that means the world to the boy and his family, sharing in their family traditions, and meeting the people who mean the most to the person who means the most to me.

See, I can do sarcastic and loving all at once. Who knew?

Happy holidays blogofollowers. See you next year, a little older, a little wiser, and with a few more aunts & uncles under my belt!

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Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen and Rudolph

Every year the holidays roll around and somehow I feel left out.

I know Channukah is wonderful and miraculous and we're all "yay for the festival of lights, all hail a drop of oil", but I'm sorry to say for me, it doesn't hold a candle to Rudolph. I'm very proud of my heritage and love the story of Channukah but it's just not on the same level- spirit wise- as Christmas.

There's something magical about the pile of gifts, the lights, the ornaments, the lifetime movies, the chocolate santas, the red, the green, the SPARKLE that our beloved Macabee just doesn't deliver.  I've tried to deny it, to ignore it, to bury my shame in copious amounts of gelt while covering myself in blue glitter, but at the end of the day it's just not the same.

What's a jew to do?

Growing up I always wanted lights- I would ask my mom to put white lights on our house in the shape of a jewish star (seemed ingenious to me) so we could "glow" like our neighbors. Each year she explained that lights were a celebration for Christmas, and we had our menorah in the window. Going to a Jewish day school, one would think I'd have missed the whole "left out" gene since everyone was celebrating the same holiday, but I didn't... I always wanted a tree, and ornaments and lights- maybe I was switched at birth and my real name is Mary (only kidding).

One would think over the years I'd have outgrown my christmas, lights, I want to ride a reindeer obsession but alas, I have not. I'm lucky in that my company does a great job celebrating both holidays- we have a menorah lighting every year in the lobby in addition to a big tree (made of teddy bears, that's another story for another day) and our office is closed between Christmas and New Years (before you hate me- consider the fact that I make significantly less than all of you reading this post....yes I'm sure, all of you).

For the past few years I've been away with my family during the week leading up to Christmas so I haven't been in New York to fully experience the holiday thrill but this year- I'm here and I'm living it up BIG time.

Last weekend my PIC's best friend from college was in town and we got tickets to the Radio City Music Hall Christmas Spectacular. For those who haven't been think: glitter, santa, amazingness. The show was so quintessential holidays in New York that i couldn't help but smile.

Three friends on the way to the show

New York Christmas in all its glory!

This weekend the boy and I got our very own tree for his apartment. I started talking about this tree weeks ago, first by asking if his family had one (he's only half christian, I didn't know the rules) then by asking if he usually had one in his apartment and finally by proclaiming- we should get a tree! I think I brought it up every day for the past week until finally on Friday I asked if we could get it on Sunday and hooray, he said yes! He scouted out the best tree selling stand near his apartment and yesterday afternoon, rain and all, off we went.

We picked out the cutest little tree and on the way home we stopped and I got to pick out all of the lights and ornaments! As soon as we arrived at his apartment we got to work stringing lights and hanging ornaments. The boy knew how excited I was, so we kept the lights on all afternoon and evening. Each time I looked at it- I couldn't help but smile! Not only is this my first tree (sorry mom) but it's our first year of holidays together and I couldn't think of a better way to kick them off.

The holidays in New York are a magical time, no matter which holiday you celebrate, but I'm extra thankful this year that I get to celebrate both.

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Spring Forward, Fall Back

..and that's definitely what I did this Fall. I fell, farrr behind on posts.

When I started this blog I promised myself I'd use it as a place to express myself, to share my musings and absurd dating tales and as a way to escape the "should" and just write what I was feeling. But you know how it goes- life happens, time flies and before you know it, two months have passed! So now I'm back and in one not-too-long-please-don't-bore-them-they're-the-only-followers-you-have post, I will try to catch you up on what's been going on.

Fall was filled with friends, family, apple picking, pumpkin carving, parent-meeting, hurricane living and my favorite holiday, Thankgiving!

Things with the boy are better than ever and I feel incredibly lucky. The more time we spend together the more I smile and I can honestly say I couldn't be happier...sorry, that's all you get!

My three best friends and I went apple picking in October and to our chagrin there were no apples left on the trees! Can you believe it?! We've had this tradition for a few years and apparently, apple-picking season is getting shorter and shorter. We made the best of it by scooping apples out of bins and making our pies but there is something to be said for the real thing.

 

           

The next item on the fall-fun to do list was camping and pumpkin carving. Camping was a little-rocky, cold and darker than anticipated but altogether a great experience. We drove about an hour and a half from the city, and slept under the stars (and on top of some rocks). It was a short trip and next time, we will be a bit more prepared.

Pumpkin carving was a blast and the boy and I had a competition with my PIC and her boyfriend. I don't think we ever decided who won but it was a lot of fun to carve pumpkins, roast the seeds and enjoy fall beer with friends. 

Our spooky pumpkin. Carving courtesy of the boy.

Hurricane Sandy whipped through New York a few days later and while I was extremely fortunate to not withstand any damage, there were many people who were not as lucky. The Saturday following the storm a few friends and I loaded a car with supplies and headed to Staten Island to distribute what we could and assist in the relief effort. It felt great to give back knowing how many people lost everything and seeing the community we visited first-hand, we know the help was needed.

Halloween fell somewhere in the mix and it was particularly special for me this year because I was lucky enough to meet the boy's older sister and nephew and take him trick-or-treating for his first time ever! He didn't completely get the concept but loved dressing up...and we loved his candy.

Yo Gabba Gabba fueling up for the night

Hip and I trick-or-treating

One of the many decked-out houses in Sunnyside Gardens

My favorite holiday, Thanksgiving, wrapped up November and I was extremely lucky to have two celebrations this year. First, our first annual Friendsgiving with Marlee, Jesse, Megan and all of our significant others and then the real Thanskgiving a few days later.

I absolutely love Thanksgiving. The flavors, the colors, the smells, the time with family- to me, it's perfect and I'm so glad I had the chance to spend the holiday with my whole family again this year. My grandparents flew in from Florida and it was great spending time with them after a few months apart. They are two of the most amazing people I know and I am so fortunate to have them both in my life.

That just about wraps up the fall-fun. December is going to speed by between holiday parties, friends visits, trips (i've got two lined up!) and of course the New York holiday activities.

Stay tuned.

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Gigi's at it again.

Sometimes, things in your life are going so well that you don't even have anything to make fun of yourself err I mean blog, about.

Life's been pretty awesome lately. The weather in New York has turned that perfect fall-crisp where a light leather jacket (my all time fave) and a cute sweater have you set from morning til night. It's cold enough out where you want to cozy up inside with hot tea and cider, but not so cold that you curse yourself for your choice of living in the Northeast, ah fall bliss.

I've had a few college visitors over the last few weeks, another one this weekend and one in a few weeks. It's so nice to catch up with friends, show them my city and reminisce on times when class and homework assignments actually mattered #workinglifeisthebest.

All is quiet on the homefront- oh except the radiators. In New York, unlike many other civilized cities across the continental US, in most apartment buildings tenants have no control over the heat. When the temperature drops below 50, the boiler revs up and heat begins pumping from the creatures in the walls- also known as radiators. Often times these creatures are not in good condition and result in clinking, clanking, screeching, steam pouring and banging- all in the name of a little heat. We had quite the experience with our radiators in the old apartment, so why should this one be any different? We were hopeful- but unfortunately, out of luck. When these bad boys turned on for the first time last weekend we got the whole 9 yards, steam, screeching, banging, clanging and most of all insane temperatures that we were unable to lower. We immediately placed a call to our landlord, then the management company and finally to a plumber who we scheduled to come this morning between 8:30-9. You all know how this story ends, "we'll be there in 15 minutes" and then 15 minutes turns into 30, 30 turns into 45 and before you know it you're offering the plumbers lunch (only kidding). Around 11:15 they finally showed up only to inform us that all of our radiators are leaking (we have 5- what are the odds) and they all need to be replaced at the low cost of $575.03 if we wanted to have them running. Yea, I'll get right on that. In the name of bank account preservation we opted to shut all off but one, and hope that fuzzy socks come back in style. Down parka, party of one.

So, you all remember that guy I told you about a few months ago? The one I went out of my comfort zone for and then swore up and down was the worst decision I'd ever made. Well folks, he's back, and this time- in a big way. I can't exactly trace the evolution of this development but basically it went a little something like this: blog was posted, he was flattered, I was sad, I didn't give a shit, guy started to give a shit, we started talking, we became friends, we started hanging out as friends, then we started hanging out as friendsandmaybemore, then as definitely more but shhh let's not acknowledge it, then we were basically dating but wouldn't admit we were dating, and finally we admitted it and now we're actually, truthfully,  totally, legitimately dating. Like aww you're my boyfriend and I'm your girlfriend, let's meet each others parents, make holiday plans and miss each other when we're not together- dating. Talk about a 180. Who knows how this happened, my friends say it was unexpected, he says it wasn't unexpected, I say I have no idea what it was but I'm the luckiest girl in New York.

For all the bashing I did in my last post, I will do double if not triple the praising in this one. This guy has truly swept me off my feet. Not in the "oh lets go for a carriage ride in the park" sense (ew) but in a way that's so much better. He's everything I thought never existed and makes me feel the way people tell you you'll never get to feel. He's funny, kind, smart, caring, beyond cute and best of all? He's crazy about me (but don't tell him I told you, he likes to play coy). We're both the opposite of what we ever thought we'd date (probably better, right?) and I have to pinch myself everyday to make sure it's real- I can assure you, it is. He's my best friend and he brings out the best in me (my dad even told him that the first time they met, uh dad, hello- way to play it close to the vest!). He challenges me in ways I never knew possible and his silliness is one of a kind (if asked I'd swear it annoys me, but it secretly makes me happy). Who knew a few short weeks ago where this journey would lead- I certainly didnt- but maybe that's the best part!

Surprised? Me too. Think I'm joking? I'm not. Wish you were me? Don't. Ok maybe you can, but just this once.


P.S. For those of you wondering about the Gigi reference- think "He's Just Not That Into You". Boyfriend (ahh it's still so weird to use that word) has called me Gigi since basically our first date since i'm so-over-the-top-emotional and won't-settle-for-less, pshh whatever Gigi is the best.

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45 Avondale Road

Shana tova my jewish friends, and non jewish friends who think being jewish is so cool that they want to be jewish but only for the first jewish holiday until we have to fast and eat things that look like fish guts but are really called whitefish, SHANA TOVA all.

The Jewish holidays kicked off the same way they always do in my house, with a lot of cooking, a lot of eating, a table falling down, wine spilling, dogs barking, early exits, people laughing, others crying all the while saying CAN'T WAIT FOR NEXT YEAR, yea me neither- remind me to remember this then.

Each year the Lewis-Gartner high holidays follow the same routine. Erev Rosh Hashanah dinner is at my house, lunch the next day is at my grandmas, just us, where we sit around talking about how it used to be more than just us but then everyone died...oh by the way, happy new year.

Yom Kippur is similar with "the last supper" taking place at my house and the break fast at my grandmas. My older sister sleeps over and in the morning we all hungrily (although we're not really hungry yet we just think we are because we can't eat) get dressed and head to temple, counterfeit tickets in hand (long story for another day but in short, go mom!). Then around 3pm the "kids" go to my grandmas and make the deviled eggs for break fast. Every year my grandma forgets that I can't stand deviled eggs- not even to be in the same room as them, let alone MAKE them- and every year we have the argument that i'm not being a "joiner", every year I cave and go there only to be so repelled by the eggs that I have to leave the room, and every year she looks at me sadly and remembers I hate them...like I said, every year.

The break fast kicks off around 6pm when people start arriving, but my mom and I force everyone to wait until the 3 stars have been seen in the sky before we can eat- we're diehards deal with it- and then twinkle twinkle, it's over. Just as quickly as it began, we're eating again, quickly forgetting what we were fasting to remember and throwing our manners to the wind. No- talking with your mouthful of bagel is not in fact the proper way to ask cousin it to pass the cream cheese. Been there, done that. A few hours, a couple pounds of fish guts and a slab of rainbow cookies later, everyone says good bye, spilling out the front door into the crisp fall air, eager to get home and put on their pajamas.

When I was a kid, it was always a given that the next year, the same round of traditions would unfold. We'd always eat bagels and cream cheese by my grandma's fireplace and play dress up in the attic. We'd always take off our tights and run barefoot, relieved to be free of the MOST uncomfortable piece of the high-holiday getup. There'd always be another holiday, another dinner, another rosh hashanah lunch with just us with the theme of everyone's dead, and always another break fast. But this year, is different. This year we gathered for rosh hashanah lunch just us for the last time, and next week will mark the last year I get to get into an argument with my grandma over deviled eggs. It will be the last year we pull into their driveway, proud that we get front row parking because we're essentially residents by extension. It will be the last year I feel the plush carpet under my toes as I slip off my heels (no more stockings, I ditched those the year I was allowed to pick out my own outfit). The last year the black and white tiles fly by as we carry trays of goodies into the den. The last year the cousins hide out in the red room. The last year we hear the creak of the attic stairs and feel the cold metal tips beneath our feet. The last year we hear the click of the bar cabinets as they spring open and the last year we break the fast in the place we have done so for the last twenty five years.

This past week after Rosh hashanah lunch, post the "everyone's dead" conversation, we went through all of my grandparents things labeling them "tag sale", "bunny to keep", "sari" "dori  "diane" "june" "aaron" etc. In just a few short weeks my grandparents are selling their house. They are moving out of the home they have lived in for 59 years and while it's an important step for them, it's incredibly sad. As I pointed out to my mom, they are not only selling their own memories now, but ours too, and with it, all of the potential for future memories.  All of the "next years" and "remember whens" are somehow being packed into boxes. We've all tried to be strong as this process has unfolded but I think each of us has broken down at one point or another. How do you say good bye to a place that has meant more to you than even your own home, or bottle a sound, a smell or a feeling that literally tells a thousand stories. How do you explain what a house, a mere four walls, has meant to you over a lifetime or figure out what holidays look like without it. Even as I sit here writing this post, tears roll down my cheeks (yes i'm at work, maybe it's awkward) as I try to comprehend the finality with which Wednesday night's break fast will bring.

My grandparents house has always been my grandparents house. My mom moved there when she was two and I spent countless amounts of time there throughout my life. Even now, I walk there, run there, drive there almost weekly. I know where everything is, what every room was, what every room means, whose beds are and were whose, when furniture was bought and who the original owners were. I know who fell where (and when) who broke what (and why) and more importantly I've always felt it would always be there-.

The days between rosh hashanah are the days of introspection- 10 days that are supposed to be spent reflecting. This year, I sure do know what i'll be thinking about.

Shana tova everyone and gmar chatima tova (have an easy fast)

Dad and I at the dining room table at 45 Avondale, a long time ago

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Are you there g-d? It's me Gigi

My oh my, where does the time go. One day you're waking up and packing your bags for a mid-August vacation, next thing you know it's labor day weekend and all signs of your perfect summer romance have flown out the window just as quickly as they blew in. Solution: time to close the windows.

I'm sure you want to know more, who wouldn't with a lead in like that. In essence- curiosity killed the cat.

After nearly three years of dating in New York (that might not seem like a lot to you novices out there or to you readers who are neatly coupled-up, but trust me, if you've done it, you know it is) I decided to step outside my comfort zone; to ignore my "type", disregard warnings and throw caution to the wind. I decided to "go with the flow", to date someone I knew was emotionally unavailable and try my hand at casual (hint: casual does not include planning, a serious problem for a planner like me- I love planning- so sue me, I like looking forward to things).

Why I thought this diversion was a good idea after my last relationship in which I was strung along more creatively than colored macaroni on a pre-schoolers necklace, is beyond me. But hey- in the throes of the July heat- it seemed like a good idea. Ultimately, my curiosity was quelled; I came, I saw, I [failed to] conquer (the predicted outcome when playing with fire) and after almost two months of fun, we came to the ever elusive dating line in the sand. The [dreaded] crossroads where you must decide: break down the emotional walls and let the other person in or call it quits. Moral of the story, he turned and ran faster than a tourist realizing Times Square is in the opposite direction of Central Park West (about- face!).

While it was an interesting summer, and a very bold dating move for those of you who know me, I take comfort in the fact that after 25 years I know myself. I know what I want, what I need, what I will put up with and what I won't. I'm not sad, but rather reinvigorated to know that I don't have to settle. In previous relationships I've analyzed what I've done wrong, how I could have salvaged things, how I could have changed things or been better- I've taken the position that it didn't work out because I did something wrong instead of considering that maybe we just wanted different things.

I'm a passionate person, that's who I am and I'm looking for the real deal- someone whose going to be there on the best days, and the worst days. I often criticize myself for being me, for wearing my emotions on my sleeve and for (gasp) asking for what I want, because of the reactions I get, or the typical outcome (splitsville).  But, in looking back on this experience- I know there was nothing to be done and nothing for me to apologize for. When I entered into this I knew I was taking a gamble, and unfortunately that gamble played out the way most gambles do- in favor of the house- but at least I played the game, and one of these days I'm gonna win the jackpot.

Every experience takes you somewhere new and teaches you things about yourself you didn't know before, so I try not to regret anything (it's hard, trust me, I know). I can't say that each of these romantic letdowns is easy, that would be lying, or that they make me feel great about myself, but they each teach me something new and I am better, stronger and more self-assured because of them.

I'm lucky to live in an amazing city where figuring this stuff out is the norm- and I feel even luckier to have the incredible people around me who help me through each test. My friends, family and coworkers (they get it the worst) encourage me, listen to me, and support me, no matter how many times I trip, or stub my toe. As we head into the Fall, it's a good thing I've got a fresh pack of band-aids ready to go and a team of experts standing behind me.

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Vacation...it's good for the soul

Well- this morning was back to the city, back to work and back to reality. After 9 days away from the big apple, the consistency of routine was calling my name.

Last Friday I packed my [perfectly perfect] Herve' weekender and headed to the suburbs. With Summer dwindling right before our eyes, I knew I had to act fast: take vacation days now or forever hold your peace.  I opted for the former.

Perfect Beach Day

While I was home I did a whole lot of relaxing. I read six books (yes six!), knocked a few classically summer items off my bucket list, spent time with family, went to the beach, enjoyed leisurely evening runs, hung out with my favorite 8 month old, and ate my weight in watermelon.

Serious Saturday night cuteness

So, what did I read you ask? A few nondescript, totally mindless beach reads by Barbara Freethy (Summer Secrets, Just a Wish Away and All She Ever Wanted), the new Emily Giffin Novel Where We Belong, a page turning West Point book about female cadets Battle Dress (my fave for those of you who know my genre obsession) and an indecently succinct cousin to the 50 Shades of Grey trilogy titled Bared to You. Confession: I started Bared to You around 8pm last night, read well into the morning hours, and finished it today during my lunch break.  I'm looking forward to the second book which comes out mid-October, but reading snobs beware- it's no literary work of genius.

In addition to total book worm status, my Bucket List got some momentum this break as I was able to knock a few stunner's off the list.  Night swimming, the Annual Lewis family trip to Rye Playland, swimming in the ocean, and going for an evening run are now OH-ficially complete. I've got a few others planned in the coming weeks and hope that by the time the first leaves fall- I'll have the full list knocked out.

Dad and I enjoying the pool!

This past Saturday, I went over to my grandparents house for breakfast with my sister, cousin and cousin's fiance'. My grandparents just recently sold their house (cue the "oh my god's" and "are you serious'") and are getting ready to move in just under two months. They've lived at 45 Avondale for over 60 years, and it's been like a second home to me all my life. I grew up a mile away and saw their house as an extension of my own. I have my own bed, my own spot at all three tables, dents I've left on the floor, grill's I've fixed, pictures I've painted, closets I know better than my current apartment and smells that instantly take me back to being a kid. It's been a mix of happiness and sadness as they start to pack up. It's definitely time for them to move onto something smaller, and more manigible, but at the same time it's scary (and nearly impossible) to imagine anyone else living in their house; it's THEIR house. Alas- I digress.

As they get ready to move all of the kids and grandkids have spent time there, talking, sorting, discussing. We've been going through furniture, calling dibs on what we want, reminiscing about all of the memories we've made (more than we could ever count) and sorting through decades of "stuff". My grandma found pictures and documents that belonged to each of her children and grandchildren and created an envelope for each of us. She plans to bring everything down to their house in Florida, and make each of us a collage of everything she has from the time were babies, through college graduation. I  can't wait to see how it turns out. In the meantime, I couldn't help sneak a peak at the pictures and man, were there some gems in there. It's hard to imagine being a little version of myself but so much fun at the same time. Here's a little snippet of what baby Sari looked like- what a nugget.

Dad, quit with the looks, ok?

No shoes, no shirt, no problem!

My first day back to work was a nice reminder of the fact that I love my apartment, love my job and love the people I work with. While it's always nice to take time off to recharge- having a place you love coming back to, makes it that much better.

Happy Monday.

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