An Affair to Remember

Over the past 9 months, New York and I grown very close. My new city has been a great provider and a thrilling lover. I have seen and done things here that I never thought possible, Broadway shows, the ballet, restaurants, the people, the architecture... I could go on and on. I have found that if I need something from New York, I may have to beg but I will usually get it: an apartment, a babysitter, a friend.

New York has a lot of the qualities I look for in a lover, err... city: the tall dark and handsome, deeply intelligent with a sharp sense of humour, yet somehow 'too cool.' I have introduced the city to my parents and while they know they will never feel the way I do, they can see that I am smitten and want me to be happy. New York makes no attempt to isolate me from my friends and family, on the contrary! New York loves it when my friends and family come to visit; the city likes to show off. (Why the light show at the top of the Empire State Building? I get it, you're well endowed.)

We love each other but it is not an entirely wholesome love. I don't litter and I try not to complain when I have to hobble across the cobblestones in my stilettos. I knew what I was signing up for. But if I start feeling comfortable, like I might actually belong here, New York will cut me down in a heartbeat. I have started to expect the cycle and have learned to predict New York's outbursts. If a tourist takes my restaurant recommendation or a stranger compliments me on my footwear, I can expect my metropass to go missing.

Last Saturday, I was Christmas shopping, out and about spending some good quality time with my city and trying on dresses. But I just wasn't in the mood; I was feeling fat. Eventually I gave up trying to enjoy myself and I wanted to go home. New York became hostile and withholding. I couldn't find a taxi anywhere so I had to walk all the way home with the icy wind blowing against me, blinking back tears. When I finally reached my home, I warmed up with a cup of peppermint tea and realized that I didn't feel fat anymore. I had walked the 40 blocks to my apartment cursing New York but really, the city knew what was best for me. Cardio.

When I feel ugly, New York will give me a wink from a cute stranger on the subway. When I feel run down, New York will give me a lovely, rainy day. When I feel like I am starting to know my way around, New York will give me subway track maintenance.

But I will stay here because I truly believe that New York loves me. I would never try to change New York. I have promised never to take New York for granted and I will try not to take it personally when the city lashes out at me. I don't expect monogamy. I travel a lot and New York is so busy, but we complete each other, we really do. And I am getting ready to go out tonight!

Press Release

For Immediate Release:



SCHOOL AGAIN?!
Stay at Home Mother of One Returns To School at 30

New York City, New York - September 22, 2008. Kimberley Williamson, stay at home mother and wife has attended her first class in Public Relations at New York University tonight.

For Kimberley, former life of the party, the decision to rejoin society was an easy one. After summarily rejecting the tedium of stay at home motherhood it was only a matter of deciding what to to do.

"My son has taken over my entire life - I am tired of picking up toys and watching cartoons" said Kimberley. She goes on to add: "I think that the Public Relations Certificate offered at NYU will present me with the opportunity to learn skills that will make me marketable in today's economy. I am very excited."

Adding to the excitement is the possibility that Erik Williamson, Kimberley's husband of 5 years will clean up after himself and put the baby to bed unassisted in her absence.

After moving 12 times in 10 years Kimberley feels that she may have found somewhere she can settle for a significant amount of time. Attending class tonight was the first step toward this.

Kimberley Williamson will continue to wife and mother to the best of her ability and choosing to embark on her own career has her facing these responsibilities with renewed vigor.

Kimberley is located at Playground C in Stuyvesant Town or the kitchen of her apartment.

Press Contact: Kimberley Williamson

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Funnels - From beer bongs to bath toys:

I spent last week re purposing common household items in order to keep my 15 month old child entertained while I ailed on the couch. Historically, if I am nursing myself back to health on the couch it is because of a cocktail, not a virus but this time the flu bug bit me hard and temporarily mucked up my perspective.

I really surprised myself with what I allowed my son to play. I only meekly objected when he started banging at the keyboard of my laptop with his jam sandwichy fingers. My husband's electric drill (relax - I took the battery and the bit off) was no longer off limits. Various objets d'arts that were previously designated untouchable became part an ever expanding pile of discarded toys.

This redesignation of treasured and useful items caused me to question the importance I had assigned to them. Why did I keep those dried flowers? Why can't my bamboo chopsticks be drumsticks and the dog be the drum? Why is my empty coffee mug not a hat? It kind of looks like a hat. What is all of this stuff really for?

The answer used to be so simple! Funnels were for chugging beer not bathtime. Sunglasses were for hiding tired (possibly red) eyes not preventing cataracts. Keys used to be for opening doors and starting cars not distracting babies.

I have I lot to learn about the multipurposeful nature of the environment I have created for my boy. His sticky little fist is raised in frustration because I won't procure for him the creepy Dominican mask that hangs in the hall. Hell, what is thing for?

How to become a New Yorker

In order for this blog to historically accurate I would have to go back too far. In this, as in any story, there are some details that you will just have to accept as truth.

When I was younger and wanted to watch a specific scene in a movie I could pop in the video and rewind or fast forward until I found an exact moment. Frozen. Perfectly preserved and exactly the same as last time I had watched it. I want to tell you about what I've been doing lately but I don't know how far to rewind. Suffice it to say, I despise where I live. With the exception of very few friends and neighbours it would suit me fine if this city was hit by an asteroid and obliterated completely. I wish nothing good for this city built of pot holes and ass holes. I am miserable here. That is one of those facts that I won't be corroborating. To describe my various hissy fits and myriad meltdowns would no doubt be a great read but would also drive me off course. What I am more interested in describing is my next step. Keep Moving Forward and all that.

I am still not sure how we arrived at the decision to move to New York City. Right off the bat it seems like the kind of thing I would dream about and my husband would immediately reject. Too Big. Too Hard. Too Crazy. We just had a baby! What about the cats? What about the dog? What about the house? What about our families?

Erik posted his resume online because of one particularly histrionic freak-out I had. When he was making a selection for the drop-down menu "Places I would relocate to:" there was no: "I don't care just get me the fuck out of here!" option. The first two companies to contact him were both based in New York. He has been interviewing with them since November so I guess it wouldn't make sense to say we rushed this decision but somehow, it has all happened so fast. A big part of us was anticipating jumping ship when it actually came down to decision time but slowly we came to see this as a viable future for ourselves, our son and our dog. That's right, no cats.