Wishing on Eyelashes

I just spent twenty-five precious minutes organizing my desk... it had become a scary mess of piles. The kind of piles that start out with meaning. Someone asks you for a document and you can reach up one pile and over two and have exactly what they need immediately. But somehow that type of order inevitably turns to total chaos...such that this morning when I got in my heart sank... wondering who had dropped all this stuff off and what they wanted me to do with all of it! Of course once I actually looked at what was strewn about I realized that I was the culprit... oh dear.

Anyway, after finally cleaning my desk I started feeling a little overprotective. Suddenly I felt like I couldn't tolerate anything to be out of place. I started fidgeting with my phone cord and my post-its. I became obsessed with order! I noticed an eyelash next to my keyboard and swept it right into the garbage can. And only after it was already in the trash with my fun-size snickers wrappers did I realize how sad that was! I ALWAYS wish on eyelashes. When did my subconscious start interpreting eyelashes as waste as opposed to the three leaf clovers they are supposed to be?

But don't worry--if I've learned anything from the PwC bookclub book of the month (the brain that changes itself) - it's that I can change all this. I can reframe and get back to instinctive eyelash wishing. And luckily with how tired work is making me--I'll be rubbing my eyes plenty and littering my desk with all sorts of eyelashes.

Why they have credit card machines in cabs...

Here I was - all the time assuming it was for customer convenience - both because no matter how many times you stop by the ATM in a week you always run out of cash and because after lat nights at work it's so much easier to use the company card than to wait several weeks to be reimbursed. But despite these bonuses - they were not the primary reason for adding the machines... I have been oh so blind - or so my cab driver informed me last night.

It's all about Big Brother.

Apparently Bloomberg is tracking my cabby and his friends - trying to gain control! An interesting application from one of my favorite high school reads. And the thing my driver was most concerned about was that "they" know who we are all associating with - which made me start wondering/worrying who he's been associating with for it to cause such concern...

For many many MANY more details on this theory - so many more that you will start fidgeting in your purse and think about getting dropped off a few blocks early - find cab driver in his late 50s/early 60s with disheveled white hair last seen on Broadway and 79th.

Concerned?

Nothing like getting a notice in the mail that there's a problem with your tax return!

Especially when you're compulsive like me--I nearly had an aneurism when I started reading that my refund could be reduced and fines could be incurred if corrective action isn't taken within ten days! (which judging by the date of the notice has already passed-why I outta!) You can imagine my panic. My mind started racing... what did I do wrong?... I knew I wasn't up to this... I knew I'd make a mistake...I TOLD my dad I didn't want to do my own taxes (never mind the fact that my masters was in tax and that I do lots of taxes)--I just don't like the accountability when it comes to doing my own.

So apparently my subconscious felt the same way and took a stand by not signing my return. Thank heavens that's easy to fix: One signature later and I'm fully compliant! I'm not going down like Capone.

Fair-Weathered

I remember people telling me that moving to New York in January was not a great idea. They said it was cold and dreary and that I might get depressed. They said how much better it would be to come in the spring. I thought they were exaggerating the influence of weather and the seasons, but now that spring has sprung I see what all the fuss was and is about! While I was unaware at the time of any alleged depression due to winter in the city, the light-hearted freedom I now feel makes me wonder if I wasn't in fact suffering from some circadian rhythm defects that have now been most blessedly healed by the sun! So as to take full advantage of the double blessing of weather and freedom from work, ali, maria and I rented bikes and took a spin around the island. A spin, however, doesn't do it justice, as what started out easy became quite a workout by the end of our 4-hour tour, which took us down the Hudson around the financial district and back up the East River... [refer to either of their blogs for undoubtedly better descriptions--biking apparently made me too tired to write about biking]

Note to self: sucking on a lollipop in above fashion makes your face look very weird and may not be a best practice for future pictures. Just maybe. Or definitely.


Amateur Night at the Apollo Theater in Harlem with Laura and her fun ward... I had a harder time with the "boo"-ing of participants than I would have expected. I was so excited at the prospect of heckling, but when it came down to it, I just wanted to cheer for everyone and I wanted to go give the people who got "boo"-ed off a big hug. I sat there worrying about how in less than 5 minutes we were undoing the years of self-esteem building that some darling mother has slowly and steadily been working on for years!


Followed by a rooftop afterparty with delicious food... LOVE it!

So HAPPY SPRING to all!

Tempering Expectations for my peace of mind…

I’ve had a bit of blogging paralysis of late, as evidenced by a complete lack of posts these past few months. And while I’d love to blame it on busy season (my favorite excuse for everything these days and a semi-annual undisputable justification for tax accountants everywhere to get out of unpalatable jobs and activities), I can’t! I’m not a true PwC employee as yet. I haven’t really weathered a busy season. Somehow I avoided it. But as with all things you read here, please don’t tell them! Although I haven’t adjusted to this whole idea of working yet (and wouldn’t mind getting to stay home and sleep in again), I HAVE become quite accustomed to those direct deposits they take care of for me and the things they enable me to do and better yet, eat!

Recently I’ve been getting some definite flak for failing to update, and that’s made me wonder… what IS the reason that I never write. And I’m realizing that it all comes down to expectations, and my fear of failing to meet them. So I’ve decided that if this blogging bit is going to work for me I need to make a few things clear before I proceed…

And that is the blaring fact I am just plain old Liz Hansen, the one who’s kind of OCD, kind of lazy, kind of nerdy, kind of indulgent, and kind of indifferent to hair and make-up. Living in New York hasn’t changed that. I’m still me. I don’t hang out with celebrities. I don’t see celebrities, or anyone of import for that matter… except for the guy from SNL, who I SHOULD know but don’t… [see cute Sarah’s blog for pics]

So for all my Utah loves, these updates from NY may not be the astounding adventures I’m sensing that you want me to produce. And to all my NY friends, I am undoubtedly not as cool and chic as you… I work for an accounting firm for crying out loud… can you say Albert Brennaman?

So please no expectations.

Tribute to the 79th Street Laundry People!

Since moving to the city a month ago, I've discovered all sorts of phenomenal things about living here... but today I am particularly grateful for what I am afraid is an often over-looked and under-appreciated aspect of the New York City lifestyle. And that is the freedom from doing my laundry! At first I thought it was amazing when I was able to drop off and pick up my laundry the next day, but this weekend I discovered the absolute ideal... same-day pick-up and delivery service--meaning that I can call the darling couple that runs the 79th Street Laundry Service and they'll send someone over to pick up my dirty clothes. For just one extra dollar they'll come get my 22-pound bag of laundry (seriously, 22 pounds!) and return it later that afternoon with the most impeccable folding job I've ever seen! I'm telling you... these people are incredible! If it were a publicly traded company I would DEFINITELY invest, as opposed to my company's various 401K funds for which I have no passion whatsoever!

P.S. As Kate Connolly now-Anderson so astutely pointed out, it's Cadbury mini-Easter egg time, and considering the early Easter we're facing this year, I recommend you follow our lead and stock up now before you find yourself in a post-Easter funk without any of the world's greatest creations! But I would NOT recommend that you do what I did by putting a bag into your desk drawer (the BIG bag) and eating it egg by egg (only pulling out two or three at a time) until it's gone and you spend the evening embarrassed and nursing a stomach ache!

Waiting on my Montage: Cue The Music

Apparently I live in New York, where every morning I wake up surprised by my surroundings. And every day I find another reason that I love the city. And every day I get more and more nervous about the impending busy season.

And any time people ask me about living here I feel like such a poser. I don't wear cool clothes. I don't know what a hedge fund does. I don't make a million dollars. And what's worse--I don't even care to make a million dollars... All of which are exile-deserving flaws, so I'm trusting that you won't tell. It'd be a shame to be kicked off the island after finally finding an apartment and signing a year lease! (Which consequently is for an apartment you are all invited to visit. I say invited because I'm trying to sound polite and hospitable, but as I get more desperate and homesick for all of you, this will likely turn into more of a demand--so start saving money for your flights and broadway shows now. Consider yourselves fairly warned.)

So… there is a definite movie-like quality to living in the city. As I'm essentially walking through the scenes of You've Got Mail, I feel undoubtedly like I'm in a movie! as an EXTRA, which is serious cause for concern. I ought to be the LEADING LADY of [my] own life!'---true words of wisdom from an adorable (albeit fictitious) old man that struck a chord and prompted Steph to create a phenomenal playlist-gumption.

But alas, until the music starts playing, the romantic interest enters, and time starts flying (all while I'm getting movie-star-skinny AND becoming extremely competent at my job with seeming ease), I'm stuck in the real world where I have to grow up one day at a time. So if only my ipod hadn't broken I could turn the music up really loud and PRETEND that my life had its very own montages that fast forward through some of the tough going and would help me wake up on the other side of April 15th.