I’ve always loved interactions like this, being recognized and remembered. When I was in 7th grade I would have the same lunch, a slice of pizza, french fries, a fruitopia drink and for dessert I would get a chocolate eclair ice cream bar. This lunch was considered normal to me. I would buy the chocolate eclair from a separate snack counter after I finished my pizza and fries. Eventually the lunch lady there remembered me and I wouldn’t have to say anything. She would just run and grab my order as soon as I got to the front of the line. I felt so special.

Having friendships in these seemingly mundane daily interactions makes the world feel smaller and less scary. Aside from the woman I see on my runs, I don’t have many of these relationships in Los Angeles. But in New York my days were filled with them! I knew my neighbors and had so many neighborhood friends. I think about them often and miss them a lot. I don’t ever want to forget about them. So here are some of my favorite neighborhood friends:

Bobby

Bobby was 79 years old and lived down the street from me in Greenpoint. When I first saw him, I wasn’t sure how I felt about him. I would see him walking around all the time and a lot of the time he’d be singing to himself . But one day I was getting back from my morning run and he was walking by my apartment. He stopped to tell me he exercised too and showed me the veins on his arms. I told him I was impressed. He then told me he was going to the doctor to get some bloodwork and he was scared. I assured him it would be okay. And from then on we were friends. He was always walking around and so was I. Every time I saw him, he would be going to one of three places, McDonald’s, Associated or D2. D2 is the most incredible store in Greenpoint. It’s essentially a dollar store, but they have shirts like this:

Bobby once got me a necklace and earring set from there. I have yet to wear it, but I can’t throw it out.

A week before I was moving out of the city, I sprained my ankle and couldn’t walk. I was devastated, because I knew without my daily walks, I probably wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to Bobby. And I was right. I was heartbroken and felt like I was leaving a piece of myself in the city. Thankfully, when I went back a couple months later, I saw him walking by my old apartment. I told him I was moving to Los Angeles. He was happy for me and wished me luck. Whenever I see a little old man crossing the street, I think of him and wonder how he’s doing.

Cashier at Associated

There was an Associated close to our apartment that became one of the 4 grocery stores we would shop at every day. There was a cashier there that, for whatever reason, really liked me. And she always made me feel so good about myself. She once told me that people must be jealous of me because I look so youthful. There is not a single person in the world who is jealous of me, but it was nice to imagine. Another time she told me she wanted to go to a rave, she said it just felt like a good day for a rave. When my husband would shop with me she would completely ignore him. Even when he would pay for the groceries, she would give me the receipt as if I was the one in charge. I would make a point to go to her line, even if it meant waiting longer. Associated wasn’t the greatest grocery store, but when I shopped there I felt like a star.

Nathan’s Farm manager

Nathan’s Farm was across the street from Associated and was one of the 4 grocery stores that I would shop at every day. The manager there loved my purse and who could blame her? She’s adorable!

Here she is being perfect and holding a container of cottage cheese

The manager there would compliment my purse and she’d compliment me too. We would always chat when I came into the store, but what I loved about her was that she would chat with everyone! Watching her talk to customers, it was clear that she made everyone feel like they were truly valued and treasured. Once after she rang up my groceries, I took out my purse to grab my wallet and her eyes lit up and she said she loved it. I think she felt bad for not including me, so she said she loved me as well. I told her I loved her too and I meant it.

My Mailman

I loved my mail carrier in Greenpoint. He was so nice and smiley! Our interactions were brief, but perfect. He would say “Hi. How’s it going?” I would say, “Hi! Good. How are you?” “Good. Good.” He’d say. This daily exchange was grounding and made me feel like I was living in Mr. Roger’s neighborhood. I am trying to cultivate this relationship with my mail carrier now, but she doesn’t give a shit about me!!

CVS pharmacist

Not trying to brag, but I did have a prescription to pick up monthly at the CVS on Manhattan Ave. When you pick up medication you have to tell your pharmacist your birthday and in doing so, we discovered that we had the same birthday. Every year we would commiserate about having a Winter birthday and not wanting to do anything. On her 40th I convinced her to go on a weekend trip to Florida. The following year, I saw her the day after our birthday crossing Greenpoint Avenue and we both said “Happy Birthday!” at the same time. It was an incredible moment and was the best part of my birthday (It was a bad year).

People in Los Angeles are different and I find myself feeling more closed off because of it. In New York, I walked around with a smile and an open heart. But I’m starting to realize, I walked around with that energy, because of my neighborhood friends. They made the city feel like home and I’m determined to find this in Los Angeles.

Speaking of stress, the other day, I was on my way to record a voice for an animated tv show (not trying to brag, it’s my husband’s show and he is the sole reason I’m still working in this town!!) I was nervous, but then I thought to myself, what would my younger self think of me? Wouldn’t she be excited and proud to be in a Lyft, because she still can’t drive and on her way to a recording studio?! And I was like yeah, maybe she would. But then I really thought about it and I think my younger self thought I would end up a lot hotter, taller and more similar looking to a Victoria’s Secret model. And that’s only because I had a very vivid imagination when I was younger. This was me at 13 (I’m in the middle):

My sisters and I are the same age. This was taken at our B’not Mitzvah. The theme was New York City Nightclub.

At this age, I imagined I would either be an Olympic gymnast or a famous actress/model. I admire that delusion. I remember tumbling in my front yard and imagining Bela Karolyi (You can do it) driving by my house in North Haven, Connecticut and being so dazzled by my cartwheel that he asked me to train at his famous Karolyi Ranch in Texas. I hated sleepovers, but I knew I could make this sacrifice if it meant Olympic success. As I grew up, these delusions faded, but not entirely. By 16, I knew I wouldn’t make it to the Olympics after I developed a fear of backwards tumbling, which is kind of an important part of the sport, but maybe I could still be a model? True, I was barely 5 feet tall, but why couldn’t I be the world’s shortest model who was also a little bit camera shy? Anytime my mom would take me and my sisters to New York City, I imagined getting scouted by a talent agent who would make me a star.

As an adult I thought I was done with delusions, but after running my first half marathon a month ago, I realized I’ve still got it! The race was the Hoppy Easter Half Marathon and I was treating it like a national championship. I trained for months and I genuinely thought I could win. I started off fast. Too fast. I was in first place and felt like I was flying. “Eat my dust,” I imagined yelling at my competition. “You guys are never catching me, because I am never getting tired!!” The course was an out -and-back that we were to complete three times. After I did the out-and-back once and was at 4 miles, I was tired. I got passed and was in second place. I slowed down, but I didn’t give up and for that I am proud. I ended up finishing 3rd in an uncompetitive field, and it was my biggest accomplishment to date!

I’ve never done a half marathon and had no idea how it would feel. I didn’t run it smart and I realized I kind of ran it the way I run my life, without any real thought of the future. I just go with how I feel at the moment and hope for the best, instead of working slowly and methodically towards a goal. Patience has never been one of my virtues, although I always say it is when I’m asked about one of my good qualities. What does this say about me, that I feel the need to lie about something like that?!

I do think that maintaining some sort of delusion is good for the spirit but counterproductive for maturity. It keeps me hopeful, but it also keeps me from applying myself and taking ownership over my own life. I realize in my delusions, it is always someone else discovering me and then it’s them leading me to fame or stardom. I know now I won’t be an Olympic gymnast. My 5’1’’ ass won’t be walking Paris fashion week. Then, I also realize that if I want to make something of my life, I have to be the one to put in the work.

All that being said, I think I can race my next half marathon smarter. I think I can win it, and I don’t count out the possibility I can make it to the LA Olympics in 2028.

14th Street Y: After school counselor

On paper and title, this is a job fit for a high schooler or college student on summer break. And it was perfect! I was responsible for picking up kids from an elementary school in the East Village and bringing them to the Y, where they would stay until their parents picked them up. The hours were incredible, 1:30-5:30. I truly believe every job should be 4 hours long. At the Y, the kids would play and have a snack, go to a class of their choosing, and then play some more. I would act as an assistant teacher for a variety of classes, including cooking, music, gymnastics and Harry Potter. While I was working at the Y, 6 other comedians were also working there. Every day felt like I was just hanging out with my friends, while children ranging in ages 5-10 ran around us acting insane. There was no one better for the job and we were all totally equipped to do this. This was the first job I had where I didn’t feel stressed going to work. The kids could be difficult at times, but they were also really funny and cute. And when the weather was nice, there was a playground on the roof they could run around and play on. There is nothing better than a rooftop hang in New York City! I could’ve worked here forever and I kind of did according to my standards. I worked there for 2 years before some restructuring went down. I had a new boss and was set to start work again for the Fall semester, but we were supposed to go to orientation. I knew for about 2 months that I wouldn’t be able to make it. I had to go LA for some important general meetings 🤓But I strung my new boss along and made it seem like I would be there. I didn’t let her know until a week before. A week before I was supposed to start she called me and I was like she’s just probably just going over logistics and then she fired me. I was so shocked that I hung up on her. I did call her back though, because I wanted to understand her reasoning, even though I kind of knew. I don’t think I should’ve been fired, but to each their own. Writing this, I realize I have been fired 3 times. Dang! But that just goes to show you, at a certain point things don’t matter anymore. So if you are going through a hard time, don’t forget it is temporary. You will get through this and you will go through another hard time after that will help you forget about the other hard time.

Babysitting:

After I was wrongfully fired, a family I had been babysitting for on and off for about 3 years, reached out to me about babysitting on a regular basis. The timing could not have been more perfect. I loved the girl I babysat and I loved her parents too. We had gotten really close over the years. They were there for me when my grandpa passed away and I got to be there when their daughter had her first day of kindergarten. It was nice feeling like I had a second family in the city. Something I think about a lot from this time was one day on the way home from school, the girl I was babysitting asked to stop at Starbucks where she proceeded to order a pup cup. A pup cup is a cup of whipped cream, meant for a dog and it’s free. The barista said, we’re not letting people order that anymore if they don’t have a dog. The Starbucks was a block away from the school, so it was clear that kids were ordering pup cups a lot. I really admired these kids. I love free stuff, but only when offered to me. To ask outright from such a huge corporation took courage. I rewarded this courage by offering to pay for her strawberry creme frappuccino. Though I loved babysitting, I knew there would always be an endpoint. The time would come when she would outgrow me and be able to walk herself home from school. That time came sooner than expected because of the pandemic. But my relationship with them was special, so I made sure to stay in touch and even FaceTimed the girl once a week to play Roblox games on the computer. Even though the games we would play would often make me feel ill (I get motion sickness) I loved the family so much that I would put my health on the backburner. This was the most selfless I had ever been and I will never forget it.

I’m not going to get into the pandemic, because I was unemployed and was making money from the government. I did try to get a loan at one point by saying my comedy business was suffering (it was suffering before the pandemic too) and at first I did get money, but then they took it back because they realized I didn’t have a comedy business in the professional sense.

Building Blocks Daycare: Assistant Teacher

Once the pandemic was over, I needed a job and I saw that there was a daycare down the street from me. I had experience with kids and decided to apply. After looking at my resume, my soon-to-be boss was a little concerned with how many jobs I had had. I explained my situation. I’m an artist, but I found my calling in caring for children. I was hired on the spot. Working at a daycare is one of the grossest things you can ever do and that is coming from someone who used to pick up dog crap for a living. Babies and toddlers require so much cleaning. They can’t do so many of the things we take for granted, using a toilet and chewing in a way that resembles eating. I was changing diapers, constantly wiping surfaces after eating and cleaning runny noses. I was sick every weekend for a month. Although the kids were disgusting at times, they were also so cute. I had kids I was obsessed with and I genuinely miss them. At first I was expected to work 1-6, which was manageable. But a lot of the time, my boss would ask me to work 8-6 and I couldn’t say no, the money was too good. (I was making $15/hr). I eventually started to feel burnt out and annoyed at my inability to say no. I also had a wedding to plan and wanted to give that my full attention. So, obviously, I said I got a writing job and quit.

Personal Trainer:

After I got married, I decided it was time to have a more stable career. I have always loved working out. From a young age, I was active and freakishly strong. In 7th grade I was the only kid to do push-ups for the whole allotted time during the Presidential Fitness test. Afterwards my gym teacher shook my hand and said “those were the most perfect push-ups I’ve ever seen.” That was the highlight of my academic career. I mostly ran in high school and college, but started lifting weights after college and have continued ever since. I love everything about the gym. I love the pre-workout, protein powder and various proteinified foods. The gym I would go to in Brooklyn was a Crunch and it was perfect for me. It was dark and smelled like absolute garbage, but when I lifted weights in there, I felt like a star. So I figured I might as well get my personal training certification and help others do one of the only things that I am semi-good at. I studied for 3 months and was thrilled when I passed the test! I was lucky enough to get a job right away. There was a new gym opening down the street, my boss would find clients for me and then I would train them. It was the perfect situation and I felt very lucky. I loved the freedom of making my own schedule and I loved getting to know all of my clients. I felt like a professional for the first time in my life!! I worked there for 3 years before moving to Los Angeles in July. And now I’m still a personal trainer working at a senior center. If there’s one thing I love more than the gym, it’s old people. We just click! They always think I’m really young and I’m like does that just happen when you get old? Strength training is so important and it’s nice having a job where I get to spread that message.

And that was every job I’ve ever had!! Hopefully there will come a day where I’ll get my dream job: one that not only fulfills me, but pays me so well that I can finally achieve my true life goal: to buy a mansion and a boat.

Dog walking 3 but also 1: I’ll explain!

I don’t know what was going on at this time in my life, but I assume I was bored, desperate and eager to connect with the animals again. But I think more than anything, I needed to right my wrongs. As I’ve said before, I live for the approval of others! And what better way to get it than reaching out to my first dog walking job, the same one I gave my two weeks’ notice to while on a two week vacation. I was shocked when my old manager agreed to meet up with me for an interview. I would’ve ignored me, if I were them. But during the interview it was clear they were just as desperate as I was. They had gotten audited and were shaken up and afraid. They connected with my pervasive sense of fear at the time and sought comfort in a familiar face. During the interview my manager was like, “You really screwed us over and we were really upset, but it’s clear you’ve changed.” I assured her I was a different person.. She gave me a set of keys and just like that I was back to being a dog walker. But this time, there was an end point. I was filling in for someone who would be away for the Summer. Knowing this made the job seem so much better. I would be walking dogs in Murray Hill and I was determined to make the most of it. I was going to prove myself as the fastest dog walker in the most boring part of the city. But I soon realized it’s the “will they won’t they” of will I quit or be fired that keeps things interesting. I felt basic and boring having a summer job. Was I still in high school? But I stayed the whole time, even though a dog bit me and two just flat-out refused to walk. I suffered, and felt absolved of my guilt. I had become perfect again and was ready, once again for a new venture. I reached out to a staffing agency and found a job as a receptionist to an allergist. And yes, it’s just as glamorous as it sounds!

Receptionist to an Allergist

This was the closest I’ve ever been to being a doctor and at first, it felt incredible. I got to wear a lab coat!

The allergist’s office was on the Upper East Side and was extremely small. She was the only doctor and her patient list was exclusive. Some days she would only see one person. She was also 75 years old, so her technology use was limited. This was perfect for me, because mine is too! There was a desktop there that I could use, so I mostly spent this time researching different ailments that I believed I suffered from. My stomach hurt just about every day, so I was trying to figure out what I was allergic to. I could’ve asked the allergist, but she was mean. She hated the shoes I wore and would make me change when I got to the office. I also used to drink out of a glass mason jar, which she also hated, so, for Christmas, she gave me money to get a water bottle. At first I enjoyed the solitude and lack of stress. I finally had a job where I could sit and chill and look at a computer. But it got boring and started to feel pointless after a while. I also hated the commute. I would have to take three trains to get to a job where I did absolutely nothing. There was a health food store a couple blocks away, and that made it worth it for a bit. But, on a day that I will never forget, I had convinced myself I had a leaky gut, so I couldn’t eat anything that caused inflammation. I’m not really a meal prep or a make a lunch that is good person. I decided not to pack anything and just go to the health food store and wing it. So I got a box of arugula and canned salmon, the only things I thought were anti-inflammatory. Not sure what I thought would happen when I opened the can and added it to the arugula, but it was not only disgusting, but it attracted a flock of pigeons. I had to drop the salad and salmon and run. That was the final straw. The one place I could seek solace at this job was tainted. I had to quit and I had to quit immediately. I gave my two weeks’ notice saying I had found a writing job. But in reality, I had nothing lined up. During the last two weeks, the doctor would ask about the writing job and I would be extremely vague. Constant interrogation and having to lie was more stressful than the job ever was and I was thankful when it was over.

Chocolate Factory 1: Production Assistant

If there’s one thing I love more than researching potential ailments, it’s chocolate. I eat chocolate in some way every single day. If I go a day without chocolate, I feel faint. I had no idea there were chocolate factories in Brooklyn. So when I came across a job listing for a production assistant at a chocolate factory in Red Hook, I was thrilled and when I got the job, I felt like I won the golden ticket like Charlie in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (the Gene Wilder one, not Johnny Depp). My main job was to put the stickers on the bars and pack them. There was a machine that I would put the wrapped bars through and it would add a sticker. I would then stack them and pack them in a box.I thought I might get to actually make the chocolate bars, but after they saw me try it out a couple of times they no longer let me do it. The job was great at first, but as with every job I’ve ever had, it got boring. I felt dumb. All I was doing all day was putting stickers on chocolate bars. I wanted to make something. I wanted to make a difference, and I wanted my commute to be shorter! It would take me 45 minutes to get to Red Hook and it didn’t feel worth it. So when I found another job listing for a chocolate factory in Bushwick, I was thrilled! I once again gave my two weeks’ notice and said I got a writing job. Maybe I should’ve actually looked for a writing job. Either way, I was ready to embark on a new but similar adventure. I was finally going to get to be a chocolate maker!

Chocolate Factory 2: Chocolatier’s Assistant

To get this job, I embellished the truth. The person interviewing me saw my previous chocolate job experience and assumed I knew the ins and outs of chocolate-making. So I didn’t correct her and instead, reinforced those ideas. Although I had no idea what I was doing when I started, I learned, and though I never did any of the chocolate making well, I did it! To me, that was enough. This was the founder of the factory:

He called himself the Willy Wonka of Bushwick, which was fitting for this Oompa Loompa era I had found myself in. I was having fun in the beginning. I got to wear a cute jumpsuit and got to eat all of the chocolate that I wanted. Plus, I was only working 3 days a week. So even if I was stressed and afraid when I was there, the days off made it manageable. But then the busy season for chocolate arrived. The busy season is after Thanksgiving and lasts until Valentine’s Day. This was the worst time in my life! I had to work every day, longer hours, usually until 8pm. It was exhausting physically and emotionally. The zipper to my jumpsuit had broken, so I had to keep it up with a safety pin. I looked stupid. One day we were making truffles and I had to grab them from the end of the conveyor belt and put them into a box. The machine was moving too quickly and I couldn’t grab the truffles fast enough. They were piling on top of each other. I was getting so mad. I felt like Lucille Ball in that episode of I Love Lucy, but I wasn’t eating any of the chocolate, I was just fuming. I somehow survived the busy season and it seemed like things were gonna go back to normal. I couldn’t wait to get back to my doing-a-job-badly-for-3-days-a-week routine. But I was fired as soon as the busy season ended. In hindsight, I should’ve seen it coming. I didn’t offer anything useful to the factory. Sometimes, it seemed like they had to think of a task I could do just to keep me busy. I didn’t see a problem with that, but it was probably annoying. I was sad to be let go and really didn’t know what I was gonna do next. But I did know I would never work at a chocolate factory again. Thankfully, my love of chocolate was unaffected. No job should ever take away the thing you love most!

Fourth and final job post coming next week!

Trinity Boxing Club: Front desk

My first job after Huffington Post was at a boxing gym in Tribeca. I was hired to work the front desk. I was responsible for opening the gym, checking people in and giving tours to prospective members. My first week I was shadowing another girl who worked the front desk position. I love shadowing. You basically are paid to hang out with someone as they do their job. It’s so relaxing! Despite spending the week following and observing, I didn’t really retain the necessary information when it came time to work by myself. People would come in and ask about the gym and I couldn’t really tell them anything, because I didn’t know how anything worked. I tried to go unnoticed, but it was kind of impossible since I was the first person people would come into contact with when they entered the gym. I prayed people wouldn’t come in or god forbid call. Answering the phone was the bane of my existence. I have a soft voice naturally, but would talk extra quietly since I knew I was giving the wrong information. “Why are you whispering?” They would ask. Because I don’t want anyone to hear me! I thought, but would say, “Sorry, there is something wrong with the phone.” Besides being afraid, I still don’t remember what I did that first week, but I do know that when I got fired, I was shocked. I had never been fired before. It’s weird being told you are not wanted at a certain place, but I get it. They said I didn’t fit the vibe of the gym. I guess the vibe they were going for was competent. Later I would see the gym on an episode of The Real Housewives of New York City and regretted not being employed there long enough to meet Countess LuAnn.

American Apparel: Sales associate

I was having trouble finding a job at this point and was growing desperate, so I reached out to a friend who was a hiring manager at American Apparel and got a job at the Soho location. My boss was 19 years old. I was afraid of the cash register (and still am) so I worked on the floor and fitting room, assisting customers in hopes of making commission. I had to wear head to toe American Apparel, so I would spend nearly half of my salary on clothing made of spandex. My time at American Apparel was spent pretending to fold and organize clothes. I have issues with authority and don’t like being told what to do, but I’m also a people pleaser, so instead of refusing to do my job outright, I acted as if I was doing it. It was a win-win for me and only me. I hated working on the weekends. The store would get so crowded, people would leave clothes in the fitting room and I would have to run around to find other sizes. It was exhausting and not rewarding. Lindsay Lohan did come into the store one time, though. Another time, a French guy gave me his number and asked me on a date on Valentine’s Day. Aside from my wedding day, this was the best day of my life. After working here for 5 months, I quit to pursue my real passion, dog walking.

Dog Walking 1: Dog walker

After working in retail, I longed for a job with little human interaction and dog walking seemed perfect. I could do my favorite thing, walk outside, but this time with a purpose. I know this is not a popular opinion, but I’m not the biggest fan of dogs. I’m sorry! It’s not that I’m evil, I’m just not a dog person. In a way, this made the job easier, because what I was after with dog walking was speed. I would have a set amount of dogs I would have to walk and if I could get to every dog a little early, I could finish my day by 3. Every minute counted and every day felt like a race. After I walked each dog, I would have to send a “pupdate” letting the owners know how the dog did and if they went to the bathroom. To save time, I would write my pupdates the day before and email them to myself, so they were ready to go. I didn’t take the time to read the bios of the dogs. I never knew a dog’s age. If someone asked, no matter what, I would say 3. It just felt right. Once I was walking a girl dog named Royal and someone commented on how cute he was and asked his name. I didn’t have time to explain it was a girl, so I just said his name was Spot. The company I was working for was called RuffCity and I was primarily walking dogs on the Upper East Side. It got to be exhausting and I thought it was the commute that was making me unhappy, not all of the unnecessary stress I was placing on myself. So I decided to find a dog walking company closer to home. I was going on a family vacation for 2 weeks, so I took this opportunity to give my 2 weeks notice to RuffCity. And they were so mad at me! But I am really good at compartmentalizing, so I just deleted the angry emails and moved on with my life. Onwards and upwards!

Dog Walking 2: Still a dog walker

Before I began my new dog walking route in Park Slope, a much easier commute, I had a week of shadowing and it was heaven. I didn’t even have to walk the dogs. I got to enjoy the sunshine and Prospect Park without a worry or care in the world. But when it came time for me to be on my own, my old stressors came back to haunt me. I was obsessed with making good time. Every day felt like a race against the clock and my neck was so tense I felt like my head weighed 70 pounds! One dog I would walk was really old, so I would just walk him up the street and then hang out with him for 45 minutes. That was the highlight of my day. In addition to dog walking, I would occasionally have to visit cats. I like cats, so I didn’t mind. But there was one week where I had to give a cat his oral medication. This seemed insane to me. I am not a veterinarian. But I watched a few youtube videos and was miraculously able to do it. It was a rush and one of my proudest accomplishments. I don’t know what medication was for, but I’d like to think I saved that cat’s life. But after about 2 months of working there, I realized, dog walking wasn’t for me. Again, I quit on vacation, but offered to work for the next 2 weeks once I was back. But they told me not to worry about it. So I didn’t!

Temp jobs: Receptionist, Front desk, box packer etc

At this point, it was winter and I needed a job indoors and I needed help getting one. So I sought out the help of a temp agency and with them I worked a million jobs. One job was packing gift boxes for Kiehl’s. It was in a dungeon in the West Village, no cell service and just me and 3 other girls. There were 700 boxes to fill with various skin products. We were told we would get one at the end. The first day we made probably 100 boxes, which meant we had to stay late. I was supposed to work there for 3 days, but I knew there was no way I could ever go back. So I emailed and said my boyfriend was taking me on a surprise getaway. I never got the gift box. The best part of temp jobs is that they are temporary. You can be as bad as you want, but they still have to pay you. It’s the luck of the draw. Sorry you got a bad employee. Better luck next time! I was not bad at filling boxes, but I was really bad at being a receptionist. One place I worked at was in Midtown and the receptionist I was filling in for had apparently emailed me all the info for the week, how to transfer calls and who to transfer them to, how to open the door for deliveries, what to do during the day. That was of no interest to me. I was interested in having a place to sit. Everyone was really annoyed at me and I felt a lot of tension as the week wore on. I longed to go outside for a walk to clear my mind, but Midtown Manhattan is no place to de-stress. Luckily the whole office would be gone the following week for some conference. I could finally do the job badly in peace! Most people do temp jobs in order to find permanent work, but variety is the spice of life in my opinion. I found this time enjoyable and interesting, but I needed a more stable income and something reliable. So I went back to the one evil I swore I would never go back to, dog walking.

More on that next week!

My first job: Pinkberry

When I was a sophomore in college at NYU, I lived up the street from a Pinkberry. One day I decided to go in there and see if they were hiring. I figured I like frozen yogurt and I like the idea of making money. Much to my surprise, I got hired on the spot. But before I could start, I had to attend Pinkberry college. It was an incredible experience and I graduated with honors! I learned how to swirl yogurt and add just the right amount of toppings. I also got a gorgeous uniform. On my first day, I was nervous and quickly realized I was way out of my league. Pinkberry college only prepared me for so much. I may have looked the part, but I wasn’t ready to serve actual people or accept money. I’m bad at math, talking to people and working under pressure. My manager, whose name was Sparkles (not kidding), tried to make me feel like I was doing a good job, but I knew I wasn’t. Someone tried to pay for their yogurt with a $100 bill, which I hadn’t seen since my Bat Mitzvah and I had no idea what to do. I don’t remember giving them change, but have to assume I did. At the end of the day, Sparkles asked how I thought I did and I said bad. She gave me a high five, but I knew I didn’t deserve it. I walked home in my uniform, but felt like a fraud. Who was I kidding? My degree meant nothing. I would never serve frozen yogurt to people with the confidence that it warranted. I was set to work the next day, so I called the store early that morning. I was nervous and accidentally asked for Sprinkles instead of Sparkles. She wasn’t there so I left a message of my resignation. I didn’t want to face my former employees, so I left my uniform in a plastic bag outside of the store. I would continue to walk on the other side of the street for the rest of the year.

Pure Green: A smoothie/health food restaurant

After college, I moved home to Connecticut. It was during the recession and finding a job in my chosen major of comedy writing was proving impossible. So I decided enough time had passed and I could offer my hand in the food industry again. This time it was at a smoothie/healthy fast food restaurant called Pure Green. It was a new restaurant and they didn’t know what they were getting into when they hired me or when they opened. There were about 6 other employees and I can confidently say I was the worst one. Every smoothie I made was thin and watery, which my boss called “too loose.” The food was disgusting there, but people would still order it and unfortunately for them, I had to make it. Once someone ordered a chicken Caesar salad, which consisted of romaine lettuce, cheese and chicken that I had to microwave and then put on the salad. I forgot to add the chicken so the guy just paid for lettuce and cheese. The only thing I wasn’t awful at was doing the dishes, but doing them made me so angry. The water was too hot and would splash me in a way that was incredibly rude. When it came time for me to quit, everyone was happy. At that point,I decided I could never work in the food industry again. To do so would be detrimental to everyone involved.

Huffington Post: Comedy vertical

After living at home for a year, I finally got a paid internship at Huffington Post. I could finally go back to New York and was thrilled! I envisioned myself writing hard hitting and hilarious journalism. I was going to be friends with Ariana Huffington and I was gonna be smart for once! Unfortunately, I didn’t really get to write. The year was 2013 and Listicles were all the rage. I spent the hours of 10-6 on my computer scouring Reddit for photos I could caption. I felt locked up and longed to express myself. So I started writing standup jokes at work and would go to open mics after work. Although I hated the job, it helped me discover what I truly enjoyed doing, so for that I am grateful. When I quit, I knew I would have to find odd jobs to support my creative endeavors, but I was ready for it.

Part 2 next week! I’ve had a lot of jobs and I’ve been bad at most of them!

I will never forget that day in 2021. I don’t normally like attention, but it was a couple years into the pandemic and I was hungry to connect with my peers. Plus I had a brilliant idea for this instagram post:

The likes were rolling in and I felt on top of the world. I was 32 years young and nothing could bring me down. Yes, the pandemic was rolling on, but I had things to look forward to. Joe Biden was set to be president (this was exciting at the time) and my husband, who was then my fiance, promised to take me to Madewell for a shopping spree. I didn’t really like Madewell, but I absolutely love when people buy things for me, so I was thrilled. I walked into the store like I owned the place, because in my mind, I was about to. I was ready to spend like there was no tomorrow. You only turn 32 once and I wanted to remember this day for the rest of my life. I brought upwards of 12-75 things to the fitting room. I felt like I was in a movie montage, trying on clothes and coming out of the dressing room looking miraculously incredible in everything. My husband seemed distracted by something on his phone, but I didn’t care. I had found a pair of jeans that made me feel like a movie star and an oversized blazer I could wear to my nonexistent corporate job as CEO of the company. I (my husband) ended up accidentally buying $500 worth of stuff. I felt guilty when we walked out of the store and was about to promise to return some things, but then my husband told me the news. People had stormed the capital building in an attempt to overthrow the 2020 elections results, making January 6th what it is today.

I hate sharing my birthday with people who would do this. I hate how my birthday no longer feels like it’s my own, quiet day. I hate that I was in Madewell when this happened. But I’m trying to reclaim January 6th and I’m determined to make it special in my own way. Last year, I went to a neurologist on my birthday and I found that really suited me. I like doctor’s appointments. I like figuring out things that could be wrong with me. I like talking to people about things that could be wrong with me. I like waiting rooms and filling out forms filled with questions I know all the answers to, height, birthdate etc. So for my birthday this year, I decided to treat myself to an appointment with a therapist. I’m excited to really get down to the bottom of what’s wrong with me! But most of all, I’m excited to have a day that feels like me. Happy birthday to me!

My favorite thing to do in New York was figuring out ways to kill time. I have a serious problem where it is impossible for me to tell how long it will take for me to get somewhere. Even if I have access to information that tells me or if I have evidence from years of travel to this exact location, I will always be at least 30 minutes early. But in my head 30 minutes is basically 15 and 15 minutes early is basically on time and on time is late!

I used to babysit a girl on the Upper West Side. It would take me 45 minutes from my apartment in Greenpoint, but when I was feeling glamorous I would turn that 45 minutes into an hour and a half. I would go the long way, walking to the L stop at Bedford. But before getting on the train, I would stop at Sephora for a little pick me up. I would use my favorite primer, Becca First Light Priming Filter. Anytime I wore this at least one person would compliment my glowing skin. Sadly it’s discontinued, but not a day goes by where I don’t think about it. I would then choose a lipstick to try, which always felt like a lot of pressure. After my work at Sephora was done, I would inevitably have to pee and I would also be a little peckish. Thankfully, the architects of Williamsburg knew that and planted a Whole Foods right across the street! I would stop there to go to the bathroom and get a free sample of whatever was on the menu that day. This was pre-covid and samples were everywhere! Some people are nervous to get a sample, because they feel pressure to buy something, but not me! With my glowing skin and perfect shade of lipstick, I had no fear.

It was then time to get on the subway, where I would have to take 3 different trains. But I found great joy in this, because I knew exactly what I had waiting for me on the other side, a Trader Joe’s and another Sephora! I could do the makeup to bathroom to sample pipeline all over again and no one would know a damn thing! I felt like I was getting away with robbery and it was exhilarating. On the rare occasion, I had even more time, I would stop at 16 Handles, a self-serve frozen yogurt spot, where I would get another sample. This one was a little tricky, because you would have to ask the cashier and they would have to fill a teeny cup for you and then they would watch you try it and you’d have to say “This is really good. I’m gonna think about it.” And then you leave without buying anything. This was a rare treat for me, but it was always an option.

I know you’re thinking, did you have anything else to do? No, I didn’t and I liked doing this! Stop judging me! I’m sorry I don’t know why I’m being so aggressive. I just miss New York. But there’s no point in comparing the two places. I could never go to Sephora, Trader Joes, Whole Foods and wander various grocery stores in LA. Yeah, I can go for hikes and enjoy the sunshine, but I don’t want to do that! I want to run errands for the entire day.

I need to figure out a way to kill time here that feels productive, fun, and a little dangerous. Thankfully, there’s a Sprouts grocery store near me that I frequent, and they occasionally have samples. I’ve realized I can get the same thrill I used to in New York by taking three samples instead of one. I have to be discreet, but with all my city experience, I consider myself a professional. Every successful three-sample trip makes me feel a little more like my chic, ingenious, New York City-self. The same one who once roamed Manhattan streets in my Sephora glam, conquering Whole Foods, Trader Joe’s and 16 Handles like a true master of time. I don’t know how long it takes to start liking LA, but I do know I’m not done trying.

My ineptitude in the kitchen is compounded by my unrefined palate. One of my favorite foods are Chocolate sea salt RX bars. I don’t know if you’ve ever eaten an RX bar, but the texture is similar to beef jerky and a piece of gum. They are exhausting to eat, but chewing an RX bar never fails to remind me that the greatest things in life don’t come without challenges.

The other day I made the grossest thing I’ve ever eaten. I like to pack lunch for work to save money, so I decided to hardboil 2 eggs. While making them I had hopes and desires of a delicious lunch. I had a vision of myself eating my lunch and thinking “you’ve done it. You’ve made a healthy and good-tasting lunch!” But I ran out of time and decided I’d just put the eggs on 2 pieces of Ezekiel Sprouted Grain toast, no sauce or embellishments. Figuring I like bread, I like eggs, how bad could it be?

In hindsight, perhaps when my husband walked into the kitchen, smelled what I was making and immediately burst out laughing, I should’ve taken that as a warning. Eating my straight up egg sandwich was painful in multiple ways. It was so dry that it hurt to swallow. It was emotionally scarring and made me afraid for my future. How did this happen? Don’t I deserve more?!

But I fear this is how I’ve always approached food. This is a recipe for pizza I wrote in kindergarten:

But if I’m being honest with myself, the real reason I can’t cook is because of my relationship with food. When I was a sophomore in high school, I started restricting what I ate. I got obsessive about it and continued to be restrictive for 18 years give or take. My New Year’s resolution of learning how to cook was always more about letting go of that side of myself and a desire to embrace freedom around food.

Not eating made me feel like I was achieving some sort of goal. My diet became a way for me to get the validation I needed without having to ask for it. And now I’m in my 30’s, I still can’t cook and I still hate asking for help! But I do feel like my relationship with food and my body has changed. I finally feel like I’m at a healthy place and appreciate what my body does rather than how it looks. (I could eat an RX bar every day and I think that’s pretty impressive!) So maybe this is the year I’ll finally learn how to cook, or at least add some sauce to my eggs.

So something that is on everyone’s mind lately is my face and how it continues to age despite my prayers. Sometimes I forget and then I go to take a selfie and realize I can only take a photo at a certain angle in order to avoid the wrinkle between my brows from being the star of the shot. I’m embarrassed. This shouldn’t be happening to me. I’m only a kid! I’m 36. 

I’ve gotten botox twice. The first time I liked the results. I had gone to a medical spa with my mom and thought of it as a bonding experience. The aestheticians there were warm and kind about my facial flaws. I told them I just wanted the area between my brows. I have a permanent line there from pretending to pay attention in math class. I also told them I liked my crow’s feet. I got them from smiling a lot. Everyone in my family has them. We all smile with our eyes and I love that. When I find myself, imagining myself without them, I remember my Aunt Amy who had the best laugh and the best smile and gorgeous crow’s feet. The person doing my botox respected this and a week later the botox kicked in, my elevens were gone and I felt like I looked at least 4 years younger! 

After a couple of months, much to my dismay, that godforsaken wrinkle was back. Couldn’t she tell I wanted her gone?! In hopes of erasing her again, I went to a different medical spa, one that was closer to me, figuring the convenience would be worth it. When I first got to the medical spa, I was greeted by a woman with a frozen face. At first I was afraid, but she welcomed me in and took my credit card. I liked that she got down to business and although she couldn’t smile, I sensed a warmth in her. But I was wrong. She led me to my room where she had me look in a mirror. I told her I just wanted the line between my brows gone. She told me that the results I was after couldn’t be achieved that way. She proceeded to point out all of my flaws. “No offense,” She said, “but your crows feet are really prominent.” She drew on my face with some sort of marker or pen to show me what she was talking about. I think there was something up with the lighting or mirror in there, because my eyes looked like they were the size of pennies!! When had my wrinkles enveloped my eyes in this way? I wasn’t offended at that moment, just determined to fix my hideous face!! I am the oldest person I know and I refuse to look that way. As soon as she was done and I had to pay, I regretted it. Not only was it expensive, but it wasn’t even what  I wanted. I was afraid that I would look permanently surprised, which I guess I was. Surprised that I could be influenced to go against my morals, surprised that I cared so much about how others saw me, and surprised that I would probably do it again. Thankfully, a week later, when the results kicked in, my crows feet were still there. My muscles there are too strong and I love them for that.