Good Night Good Kitty

She was the smallest. The runt. Not surprising really, her mother's name was Itty Bitty. She was one of a legacy that came from a farm on the Okanagan river. Saul, Meyer, Veronica, just to name a few of her relatives throughout the land. Even her name had a legacy; she was named for my Grandmother, the street my parents live on, a song from a band MDHK once played in, my favorite movie and a snowboard apparel company my college BF once owned. She was Little Betty Kitty, Betty Blue, or "the girlfriend" to My Darling Husband Kent. You couldn't help but love all 6 lbs. of her. Even when she was being eerily human in her sometimes manipulative female ways.

We had some optimistic ideas about bringing our 'girls', Betty and Veronica (my grandfather's name is Vince, but Veronica turned out to be a female, so we went with an Archie theme) out to New York with us. They'd lived for 12 years in a house, with a cat door. Free access to the world, and occasionally free access for raccoons to our world. But once we saw our apartment in Manhattan it became painfully obvious that this would not be in the best interest of anyone, particularly 'the girls'. Never mind the flight out here in a carrier.

After many close calls and unsuccessful attempts to find suitable homes in Seattle we resigned ourselves to the fact that these cats were going with us. Then like an absolute angel from beyond my wildest dreams my friend Dana's co-worker Kelsey showed up the night before MDHK's departure. I'd met Kelsey before and was aware of her kind, competent, resourceful nature. What I didn't know was that she lived in house with 4 other women in our neighborhood and they were looking to adopt and/or foster a couple of cats. "Are you frickin' kidding me?!!!". I could feel my heart soar. I threw Veronica in Kelsey's arms to charm her immediately.

A house meeting of the roommates was called. A vote was taken. The word was in; "Yes"! 'The girls' would go live with the girls.

Kelsey sent adorable photos via her phone as updates to relieve our worried and guilty minds. Betty seduced and Veronica charmed. All was good. Until Kelsey sent word that Betty was loosing a lot of weight despite the excessive feedings and they were going to take her in. I called the Vet, gave them my credit card and asked that they do whatever tests or x-rays necessary.

You can probably guess where this is going. After a round of antibiotics her white blood cell count was still triple what it should be. An x-ray showed what was most likely a cancerous growth in her stomach. She continued to loose weight and eventual most of her faculties.

Kelsey and her roommate Britta kept her near and us comforted but it was time. Time to celebrate what Betty had brought to us, what she would leave behind and just how much she was loved. As childless parents of two cats it was near impossible to make this decision from so far away, but it was time. Time to stop placing these human constraints on Betty's animal destiny. In Seattle"The Girls" had a dinner with friends that knew Betty and shared stories of her cuteness. In New York I laid on the couch until 3 a.m. alone in my grief and guilt crying until I could feel her pass through me on her way to kitty heaven. She was a good kitty. She had a good life.

Good night good kitty.

The Real Deal

Whether you're a native or newbie to a city sometimes you have to do touristy things just to cross them off the list and legitimately be able to say "been there, did that" the next time someone suggests it. I'm not talking about going up in the Space Needle or visiting the Statue of Liberty. Those are rites of passage. No, I'm talking about the $100 brunch at Pastise (yes, we made that mistake already) or going to a luau in Waikiki, Hawaii (I grew up in Hawaii so I'm exempt from that one). You know the kind of thing that makes you wonder which end of the horse you must hast have fallen off and how hard did you hit your head when you landed. Because if you were in your right mind you would not have done this voluntarily. Right?

However there are the things you do because they are just so damn real that not only will you do them once but you'd go back by yourself and do it again alone. They capture the essence of why you are there. Such as buying fresh seafood from the only saltwater tables in Pike Place Market at Jack's Fish Spot, stopping at a Stuckey's to buy floaty pens on Route 66, or throwing coins in the Trevi Fountain in Rome because John H. Secondari told us so (and you thought it had more to do with Clifton Webb, didn't you?).


Katz Deli is one of those places for me. It reminds of what is so amazing about living in New York. It is a hold-out on a street of hold-outs, such as Yonah Schimmel's Knishery, a block from what can only be referred to as the corner of "here and now" its so hip.(Ludlow and Rivington). It's also, if you didn't already know, the location of the famous fake orgasm scene with Meg Ryan & Billy Crystal in "When Harry Met Sally". And one of those places that you might wonder why you pay to be so abruptly treated. But the moment you look up into the eyes of man who will soon make you the most amazing thing on a plate and say "I'll have a pastrami reuben on rye with a side of mixed pickles" and he puts in front of you a small deli plate with a sample of the meat you are about to eat, there becomes no question in your mind why you love this place. It is without a doubt a very real experience, of true quality and culture that cannot be duplicated. In fact it is The Real Deal.

Picture perfect; pastrami reuben on rye, side of mixed pickles and a Dr. Brown's Root Beer

A Day Nothing Like That One 8 Years Ago

Every person I know from the generation before mine can tell you where they were when they heard that Kennedy had been shot. For our generation it will be the September 11th attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon in 2001. Where I was is fairly insignificant (vainly at the gym on my way to a 6:30 a.m. class). What I did all day, even less significant (motionless under a blanket on the couch staring at the TV). What is significant is realizing at someone else's expense just how fragile life is.

At the time I worked for a company that was a vendor to Royal Caribbean cruise lines. As a result I went on 6 cruises in one year. Not all its cracked up to be, trust me. After the third you are ready to get off that boat! We had worked very hard to roll out a branded concept on Royal Caribbeans newest ship and it was scheduled for delivery in New York Harbor on November 7th, 2001. Two months after the 9/11 attacks. They hadn't let a passenger ship into the harbor since then and it wasn't certain that we would allowed in either.

Not only did we get approval to bring this enormous ship into Manhattan we were the first passenger ship allowed in since 9/11 so we were accompanied by helicopters, fire boats, police boats and met at the dock by Mayor Giuliani himself. This would have been enough for me but what happened that night was more intense than anything I've ever experienced. It makes me cry every time I talk about it.

Since we had sailed from Boston with just crew members the ship was essentially empty. So Royal Caribbean made arrangements with the city of New York to host an overnight sail for surviving family members, fire fighters and police officers. The ship was alive with excitement, laughter and these devastated people all dressed up having a wonderful time. Possibly their first in nearly 60 days. But then we sailed past Ground Zero, the bright lights filling the sky. The entire ship of nearly 2,000 passengers became silent. Then the sound of names being called out; "Johnny I love you", "Kelly I miss you", "I'm still here Roger".

It felt like the silence would never end, but it did. By the end of the night the ship had completely run dry of Boddingtons and Bass Ales, Irish folk songs were being sung, children ran freely, women kicked off their heels and danced. It was like a huge family reunion, minus 2,000 absentees.

Eight years later here I am, living in the city that no one will forget what happened to it. On a daily basis there is no sign of the tragedy that happened less than a decade ago. But once a year it remembers just as we all should remember. Where were you? How will you remember?

My Most Perfect NYC Weekend So Far!

Of course everyone has a different formula for their perfect weekend. For some it's all about culinary adventures or shopping 'til you drop. Maybe yours is nothing more than doing nothing. For me its about balance, quality and having a good plan, which could also be interpreted as, I am a multi-tasking control freak. Can you imagine what my perfect weekend looks like? The past 3 days have culminated in what I would have to classify as "My Most Perfect NYC Weekend So Far!".

We are on the cusp of having 2.5 months of house guests. I'm not sure if that was the impetus for our no-holds-barred super fun backed weekend of togetherness but I'm glad it went down the way it did. The next time someone asks me "what should we do in New York" (which to me is a really stupid question - what is there not to do here?! It's New York for god sakes) I will share with them this:

Friday: Raining. Theatre, pizza, cupcakes in West Village

MDHK had spent most of Thursday night pouring over the Fringe Theatre Fest schedule and decided on "666" at Minetta Lane Theatre, while I had just learned of a sinful indulgence just down the street that boasted cupcake and wine/beer pairings, at Sweet Revenge (see a theme?). We took this opportunity to eat dessert first before having the best Italian thin crust brick oven Naples style pizza outside of Via Tribunali in Seattle (which used to be our Friday date night ritual) at Numero 28 on Carmine Street. Basically Carmine street is a hotbed of foodie fun.

Saturday: Overcast, dry, breezy. Space, museums, Harlem, Gold Coast shopping, interactive wine bars, Chinese Take-Out in East Village

MDHK is a major science geek. It's part of his charm which is why I wanted to do something that he would love. This involved a trip to 81st and Central Park West, a.k.a. The American Natural History Museum and Hayden Planetarium for the Journey to the Stars movie which was really cool. But movies make me sleepy and museums make me hungry. The night before we had talked about going to Harlem one day to explore and since we were a quick subway ride away we grabbed a strong well crafted Americano at Joe and headed up to 116th St in search of hole-in-the-wall ethnic cuisine. Lowe's Caribbean Restaurant fit all of the criteria; small, not impeccable, friendly, authentic, gritty, delicious and cheap (I highly recommend the curry chicken, collard greens & rice). Which is what makes our next stop a strange juxtaposition; Columbus Circle/Gold Coast to shop for new shoes at Camper for MDHK. Well, shopping makes me thirsty so wine was in order at Clo interactive wine bar in the Time Warner building on Columbus Circle. So much fun you can't have just one! At 9:30 p.m. I declared this day almost over. It had been a full day and there were only 2 things left I needed to complete the picture: take-out from Plump Dumpling (the most delicate steamed bundles of love) and a little home town entertainment from SNL while on the couch with MDHK. Not very glam but exactly what I wanted and exactly what I got!

Sunday: Sunny, breezy, Coffee & New York Times at the Oval fountain, Brooklyn Flea, Brooklyn Bridge crossing

Really do I need to say any more? I think you get the picture perfect idea of this day. I'll leave a little to your imagination and to your own interpretation the next time you find yourself in The Big Apple.

The Agony and The Irony

Enough of the swan song blogs about our poetic story book move across the country. I'm not as Polly Anna'ish as all that. Let's be honest about what it's like to move to New York at the begining of the summer. This summer in particular. June was the wettest month on record for New York. It rained every day except five. Fine by me. What did I care, I was leaving for my annual vacation to Lake Chelan, WA on July 15 for a week and then to spend another week in Seattle where they were experiencing the dryest summer on record. As it turned out also the hottest. On July 28 it reached a record breaking 104 in Seattle and I was there in all of its un-airconditioned glory to experience it. What was I thinking?


Back in New York they finally hit their stride with summer. 90+ degrees with almost equal amounts of humidity. At least everything (except the subway tunnels) is air conditioned here. But besides hide out in their apartments what do people do to cool off here? Though we're on an island you can't go swimming in any of the surrounding water for fear of growing a third eyeball. And only small children look cute running through the spray fountains in the parks, not 40+ year old women who are crazed with heat.

So to proove to you that I'm not completely stupid with glee in my newly adopted home of Manhattan I give you the top 8 things I could really live without. I only came up with 8 because there are so many things I love here that I just couldn't make it to 10.
1. The F'ed up way my hair looks every day thanks to the humidity
2. Humidity; duh! Sometimes it is as high as the temperature.
3. No A/C in the Subway stations; Our NPR station here, WNYC, did a story on how unbearablely hot it gets by taking a thermometer down there. One station reached 106 degrees.
4. Being surrounded by water you can't swim in. Even the NYPD take lethal amounts of antibiotics before they suit up in airtight suits when they have to get in the Hudson.
5. Radio stations here suck! Really, for a city that has so much live music and culture it is amazing how many people listen to radio stations from other cities. In partiular our favorite from Seattle KEXP. Thank god for real time live streaming over the internet, and that it airs on a local station a few hours a day.
6. Critters; its just a way of life here and I'm getting better about it. As a matter of fact I can now trick myself into thinking that rats are just squirrels with a shaved tail. But then that leaves the issue with squirrels. They are rats with fluffy tails. So I guess I'm freaked out either way.
7. Apples; for being known as the Big Apple their apple selection leaves something to be desired. I know this sounds petty but lets be honest - I am coming from The Apple State where varieties like the Honey Crisp could make your whole day just by letting the juice run down you chin as you bite into it.
8. Brunch; this is going to end up being a blog post all it's own eventually. I don't 'do' brunch. As my friend Dawn likes to remind me, I once said "Don't make me wait in line for a f*&%ing egg!". Brunch in NYC is big. There's an entire culture around it that involves people willingly waiting in line for an hour or more just to eat breakfast. Places like Prune boast a 2 hour wait. Guess who'll you won't see in line there....I'm at David's Bagels getting a pumpernickel with tofu chive cream cheese and nova lox in 4 minutes.

Human Nature

I'm well aware that it's human nature to look for patterns in life. We create patterns as a result that support infrastructure. But I also think that its just a way for the mind to soothe the soul by looking for things that are familiar

Our house in Seattle had a large old hydrangea bush next to the driveway. Each year the blooms would bring a mellow blue happiness to many dining room tables. We would share the bursts of color with family, friends and strangers that happen to walk by and comment on its color.

When we got married I was an ambitious 29 year old on a budget so our wedding had a very homespun feel to it. It was a croquet party themed affair that took place in the gazebo at Meridian park just a few blocks from our house in the Seattle neighborhood of Wallingford. We figured croquet would give people something to do after the 16 minute ceremony, it would take the pressure off me to wear a big white dress, and give everyone the excuse to buy a new hat (my favorite accessory).

In an attempt to save money I made our wedding invitations using dried, pressed hydrangeas which we had also planned to use to decorate the food table at the wedding. That old hydrangea bush was part of our wedding and continued to be part of our marriage over the next 13 years. As you can imagine it was one of the things I hated to leave when we sold our house and moved to an apartment in New York. Where would I find my mellow blue happiness in the city?

Our apartment in New York is in Stuyvesant Town which feels a lot like living in a park or on a college campus. It's very well maintained with lots of greenery and a big fountain in the center of the complex called the Oval. Within the first week of moving in it happened! All of the beds outside of the buildings were exploding with mellow blue happiness. There were hundreds of hydrangea bushes all over our apartment complex. To me it was yet another indication that what we had done was the right thing. A sign that things were going to continue to be great here in our new home. Of course when I told MDHK about it I expected him to give me an education on soil composite but he didn't. Instead he said:

"It must be a sign".

Home Sweet Chaos

After a hair-pulling, emotional train wreck of a week and a transcontinental flight the first thing I like to do is walk into a an apartment full of boxes where a wife-less husband has been "bach'ing" it for a week. Now there's a dose of reality for you. Remember how I explained my ideal Saturday scenerio in New York? Well, not so much, not right away.

MDHK had had his own chaotic week getting started in his new position at work. We were both road weary and beyond ecstatic to see each other. It wasn't a teary movie reunion at all. I felt like I'd done what I needed to in that department the day before. No, instead it was filled with relief and giddiness.

I've always found that sushi and bubbles will usually cure what ails. So we headed out to explore our new neighborhood in search of both. Sushi wasn't hard to find. We live near the East Village which has been deemed by Traveller magazine as the new "Little Asia", thanks to the likes of David Chang's Momofuko and others.

The bubbles weren't hard to find either. When we found our apartment we celebrated at Bar Veloce, an incredibly small, incredibly clever design of a wine bar. So naturally we headed back there for more bubbles and celebration.

So there you have it! Our first night together in our new home, in our new city. Not bad for two weary road warriors, one of them rather jet lagged, but both very happy. Now about all of those boxes. I suppose you can guess how the next week went, right?

One of the Hardest Things

One of the hardest things I've ever done is to let go of everything I know and most of what I own. The last few days in Seattle were absolutely the hardest. With MDHK already gone and the remaining crucial details in my hands I was a bit of wreck. As I made my final exit from the home that housed our entire 13 year marriage I decided I couldn't do it alone. So, I phoned Kent at our aprtment in New York and as soon as I heard his voice I burst into tears. Through my sobs I managed to get out only two words; "I'm leaving". Cutting the rest of the sentence short I realized it sounded like I was saying that I was leaving HIM. So I pulled it together long enough to sob; "The house. I'm leaving our house. I can't do this alone". He shared my sadness and then walked me out the door, making sure I said 'good-bye' and 'thank you' to every room.

I spent my last evening in Seattle in the company of what I can truly say are 4 of the most loving and supportive friends a girl could ask for; Jennifer Worick (we've shared some big stuff in a short amount of time), Annie Rihnsmith (a.k.a. BFF & Calla's mom), Dawn Hobson (kind & generous hostess, even kinder and more generous friend) and Christin Snyder (a good cousin, and even better friend). Sitting outside at Ponti's I confessed my emotional breakdown earlier which they quickly re-named a 'break through'. The point being that it had to happen sooner or later, right? I quickly recovered (as you can tell by the funny face making in the photo which unfortunately doesn't include Christin, acting as a photographer).

The next morning as Annie (and Calla) drove me to the airport I felt prepared, at peace and excited. Once I boarded the plane and settled in next to two completely stoned people I felt amused. Luckily they were too busy inhaling bags of snack mix to notice the little tear I shed as the plane pointed towards my new home in the Big Apple and the Apple State faded into the distance.

The Final Countdown

Tonight as my friend Carol Peterson and I were exiting the gorgeous Paramount Theatre here in Seattle, after an evening of 'foodie porn' (Anthony Bourdain and Mario Batali together on a stage with nothing else except Luke Burbank, microphones and potty mouths), she asked me;

"Do you realize that this time next week you will be living in Manhattan?"

If it weren't fo rthe fact that the last month has been the single most stressful period of time I've ever almost not survived I'd say "no". But at this point all I can think to say is, "I sure as hell better be because this roller coaster ride needs to end somewhere". To give you an idea of what I mean, it goes like this:

• Last week in April: we shoot a video as a way to market our house and it goes on the market
• First week in May: we fly to NYC for full week where we run into a friend of Kent's from High School, find an apartment in 2 days and I go to my first women entrepreneaur networking event.
• Second week in May: we have had a tremendous amount of interest in our house and we accept an offer. In the meantime I start prepping the house for the movers to come.
• Third week in may: the movers come pack, load and drive away with all our belongings. The SOLD sign goes up and all in the same day local TV news, KCPQ FOX calls and asks to do a story on the sale of our house using video and internet.
• Fourth week in May: We sell our cars, find homes for our cats, MDHK makes his final departure for our new home in NYC and the movers deliver our possessions.

Here I am now, in an empty house, alone, staring down the barrel of my last 6 days in the house and the town that we met, fell in love, got married and foster our lives in. The amount of stress that this move has caused me (and the damage to my skin) is only made tolerable by the fact that indeed, this time next week I'll be living in Manhattan (the East Village to be exact)!

Say "Cheese"!

Three statements you just won't hear in NYC:

1. "I just can't get enough of the vegan pizza here"
2. "Good thing there aren't any decent cheese shops in Manhattan"
3. "Give me a pumpernickel bagel and hold the cream cheese"

What's one thing that pizza and bagels have in common? Where's the best celebrity watching in Manahattan and also where I have a $50 gift certificate to from my BFF? What was I looking forward to saying to "Randy" my fictitious neighborhood bagel monger every day?

"Hey Randy, give me a pumpernickel bagel with veggie cream CHEESE!".

I suppose if I asked you to guess what food item I just found out I'm ridiculously allergic to you would be able to guess pretty quickly. CHEESE!

How can you move to Manhattan and be allergic to cheese? How will establish I my friendship with "Randy"? What will I say when someone comes to visit and asks "Where's the best pizza"?.

Food is a major part of my life. Eating is more than the thing I do too keep from passing out. It's an absolute passion. Cooking, shopping for it, reading about it and of course eating it. And I am planning to do a lot of it in NYC, starting with pizza and my favorite bagel monger. So this little discovery is more than a set back. it's like some sick joke! Basically the same as moving to Seattle and being allergic to salmon and coffee. What's the frickin' point already?!

I'm slightly devastated. Well on the bright side, I guess I will just have to turn my street food intentions towards hot dogs or falafels. I am officially now accepting your favorite NYC street food alternatives!

My First Meltdown

I'm an obsessive planner. I love to plan things and then proceed to make myself crazy doing it. Lately, almost every person that I talk to asks the same question "How's the move planning going", to which I reply with complete composure, " Great! We are just moving along as planned. It's really busy but its coming along just fine". And then I just hope no one but me can hear the screams of panic inside my head as I try not to go off the deep end in public.

Well, it happened. Thankfully not in public. We all knew it would, especially MDHK (who now more than ever deserves the "D" in My Darling Husband Kent). Last Friday night we were enjoying a quiet, intimate moment, nuzzled together in an after-work nap when I had to go and ruin it by bringing up my current source of stress and obsession; the estate sale. Feeling much like I've been working in a vaccum on this project because MDHK has been extremely busy at work I had it all planned out in my mind. Unfortunately I forgot to inform him. So when I said, "Are you ready to start going through the house and setting up for the estate sale next weekend?" he acted like I had just landed from Mars. Not the reaction I was looking for. Of course I responded like any level headed, rational, adult, female would; I FREAKED THE HELL OUT! Not just a little but a lot (super unattractive and really bad for your complection I might add).

Once I calmed down long enough to ask MDHK what he needed to get on board with this program a few things became very clear:

1. I was not from Mars

2. All he needed was to see it in a schedule, which he promptly produced in Microsoft Project

3. He was not only on-board he was ready to kick into high gear, which we have for the last 3 days.

4. I was going to owe him one really special dinner of his choice (which turned out to be paella Sunday night).

5. As suspected and repeatedly learned, we own a lot of stuff!

And if you are curious about our estate sale and want to see what it looks like to get rid of 60% of your belongs in one weekend you can visit our listing http://www.nwsource.com/classifieds/scr/detail/?id=15761873

A Girl's Prerogative

Isn't it said that a girl's pregogative is to change her mind? (first you have to know how to spell it!). Ok, so I've changed my mind.

Through a friend, of a friend, of a friend (got that?) I have found THE place to live in NYC. However, it is not in TriBeCa. It's on the Upper West Side. Kinda a ways up there (West 71st) actually, by my standards. But I'm sure that there's a bagel place around the corner and if his name isn't Rodney it's something like Marcus or Len. I have my priorities.

SERIOUSLY, this place is IT. It's huge by NYC standards at a lofty 1,000 sqr ft with 2 bedrooms, 1.5 baths, updated kitchen and now, it's a block from 'The Park' (for those that don't know, that's Central Park). But here's the clincher. The bedroom has one whole wall of closets! Three of them to be exact. Two for me and one for MDHK, of course. Its so gorgeous and so perfect I can hardly type straight. BUT.... (you had to that was coming) its currently listed for sale at a price that is probably twice what my house in Seattle is worth. BUT...she is considering renting it for maybe what we might be able to afford.

ok, I know what you are thinking, "Snap out of it". I don't even live there yet and I'm already broke. Oh, but you have got to see it. Come to think of it, when you do, let me know if its all 'that'!

Reality Check 1.01 THE UPDATE

I ask you; Does this look like the face of someone who is living in baby exile? Week 1 of the BFF's new baby, a.k.a. Calla Marie Rihnsmith. The lovechild of our best friends Annie and Ethan. As you well know by my earlier post "Reality Check 1.0" I have spent 9 months waiting to be put in baby exile when Annie had her baby. Instead she arrived and I realized that my moving to NYC wasn't such great timing afterall.

Well, let's just say after one week we are all smitten with Calla, The BFF still remembers my name, I got them a webcam for their laptop so we can Skype, and I might not be such a looser afterall for leaving so soon into little Calla's life.

Or at least I hope not.

Yes, Naomi I guess I can believe that I'm moving to NYC

I've been going to my esthetician for about 7 years. Not even your hair stylist can know 'your business' the way an esthetician can, especially when she's giving you your monthly Bikini Extreme wax (we all have our indulgences and necessities). Naomi knows the business of half of Seattle. She's that good and that discreet.

Mid-way through tinting my eyebrows she just stopped and said "I can't believe you are moving to New York". YOU can't believe it? What about ME?! It's like a dream come true everyday. So much of a dream come true that I shared with her my complete vision of how my life will be and what it will look like. Right down to my fictitious neighborhood bagel dude who will be named Rodney.

It goes something like this:

"I live in a 750 sqr ft apartment in TriBeCa with a rooftop deck. It has a small updated kitchen in an open format with a bar/counter and a view of the living room. A small but efficient bedroom and an even smaller office/spare bedroom loft space with a wallbed that converts to a desk.

Every morning I go to the bodega for a coffee (small problem here, I don't actually drink coffee anymore) on my way to the bagel shop where I'm greeted by Rodney (why I've decided to call him Rodney I don't know) who lives with his grandma Gracie in Queens. Rodney doesn't bother to call me by my name. No, he has his own name for the lady from Seattle. He says to me each day "Hey Smiley! What'll it be? A pumpernickel bagel with veggie cream cheese today for ya?". To which I reply "You bet Rodney. How's Gracie doing today?". And so it goes...

On Saturdays MDHK and I wake up at 9:30, go for a run on the West Side Highway, come back, take a shower together, make love (because we don't have any house maintenance to distract us), go visit Rodney for bagels and catch flick at the local cinema."

So, YES Naomi I guess I can believe that I am moving to NYC.

Reality Check 1.0

For nine months I've approached the impending arrival of my best friend Annie's baby with the attitude that it will be as if she moved away. She will live an alternate universe from me on a different planet and in a different time zone. Being of the child-free-by-choice variety it seemed that I was the one staying the same and she had made the decision to 'move away'.

Today was that day. Little Girl Rihnsmith arrived as Calla Marie. She's beautiful. I mean it. In the midst of feeling love and joy for my best friends I felt a tremdous amount of sadness. I realized that its not Annie that is departing for the alternate universe. Its me. I am moving away at the begining of Calla's life and the biggest adventure of Annie's. I feel like I am letting her down and that I will be missing out on something very special that I will now have to view via Skype and a webcam. Lame.

Our move to the Big Apple has felt like a dream come true until now. Suddenly it feels like a very grave departure from something extremely dear. Reality check 1.0.

Twister Puked on My House

As I mentioned earlier, we have 13 years of accummulation in our house. As if that wasn't enought we just completed (almost) a year and half long basement remodel which included buying additional new furniture for the living room. And now I have to reduce all of this down to a small New York apartment.

Obviously multiple estate and yard sales will be in order, but where to begin. It occured to me to ask my friend Tricia Wells who recently helped her mother move from their large family home into a smaller retirement community home. She and her husband also live in a very small and efficient condo on Queen Anne. I just had a hunch she'd have some ideas and she did.

You know those packs of Avery colored dots you get at any office supply store? I don't know what their original intent is but they've become a brilliant way for me to organize everything in my house based on its fate. RED=sell, GREEN=take to NYC, YELLOW=donate, BLUE=dibbed by a friend. I spent all day identifying, sticking and a little tossing too. Next time you have a lot of stuff to organize turn your house into a Twister party aftermath.

The Butcher The Baker The Relocation Specialist

Oy vey! (how's that for working on my NYC lingo? stay tuned for a blog post on that one). MDHK (My Darling Husband Kent) informed today that the Rental Agent in NYC, the moving company and the relocation specialist all called him to day. I could almost see the stress lines in his forehead deepening over the phone. Time to jump into 'Calm-Creative-Multi-Tasking-Supportive-Wife' mode and say something re-assuring to him like "Don't worry about a thing, honey, just give me their numbers and I'll call them back".

Am I crazy?! I have no idea what to tell them. Where do I begin? How about I start by having a nervous breakdown over the tremendous amount of crap we've accummulated over the last 13 years of marriage? Or that we aren't actually finished with the basement remodel yet. Oh, I know I'll start by telling them we have no idea when MDHK is actually supposed to be in NYC because they are too busy here in Seattle to have figured that out yet.

In the meantime I have two proposals to write, a newsletter for LifeStyled to send out, a press release for my DVD to start pushing on editors & publications. "Calgon take me away!" (you have to be of a certain age to get that, sorry kids).

Where everybody knows your name

Its always been a bit of joke between MDHK (a.k.a. My Darling Husband Kent) and I that I can't go anywhere in Seattle without running into someone I know. Like the other night. We were both feeling too exhausted to make dinner and used it as an excuse to go to the Taco Time up the street (who doesn't have it in for a Mexi Fry?). As you can imagine if I was too tired to cook I was also too tired to get "gussied up". No biggie, right?

Not so fast. As a Personal Stylist people just expect that you always look perfectly put-together. Well one of my most endearing qualities has to be my ability to 'keep it real'. And real I was when in walks Tracy Klinkroth, sassy entrepreneur and urban social scenester. There I was in baggy jeans, my favorite old sweater and worn out Dansko clogs (yes, you heard me). I was a vision of grey and looking like a real Seattle-ite.

It got me wondering about what will be my neighborhood guilty pleasure excuse in NYC. Will I ever get to the point that I run into someone I know not looking my best in NYC? Its such a big place I suppose it's possible not to. And finally it occured to me that the days of hearing MDHK say "Do you know everyone in this town" are slowing drawing near to an end.

The Sum Of Our Experiences

As I watched the people pour through the door it hit me that this was going to be the perfect opportunity for me to make a big announcement.

A week ago on January 22nd I co-hosted the biggest party I've ever thrown; New Style For New Times. Not only was it the collaboration betwen like minded business owners, Craig Williams of Craig Williams Interiors and Evelyn & Michael Lee of Alchemy Collections,and myself but it was also billed as the launch event for my new DVD, "The Essential Guide".

More than a party it was the sum of many life experiences for me. The over 200 people that attended were friends, clients, compatriots, collaborators, supporters, and family. They were there to show their support and drink free wine, but they got so much more.

As I took the microphone to say some 'thank you's', announce my DVD, share tips and insights on how to maintain personal style in a challenging economy I realized that this was the pefect time to tell everyone what I'd been slowly leaking out over the last month. So I did it.

I announced to group of 200 people that my darling husband Kent and I would be moving to the other apple of my eye, New York City in May of this year!

There it was. I said it. No turning back now. People were thrilled, excited, sad, happy. I knew just how they felt. Now the real adventure begins. Right?!