I’m A Married Woman!

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Yesterday I married my lover and my best friend in front of 125 of our closest family and friends in the backyard of the home I grew up in in Northport, NY. I walked down the aisle barefoot with my mom and dad.

The ceremony was short and sweet. We wrote our own vows and a good friend of the family married us. There was a brief cocktail hour after and then we bussed our guests into New York City to celebrate in a loft on West 37th Street.

With little to no sleep, I am operating on adrenaline right now and getting ready for our big trip tomorrow. It’s off to France for two weeks! I hope I can unearth all that it is I am feeling while away and write a real post about our big day when we are back home and settled.

Our Pitbull Rescue

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I haven’t done a whole lot of blogging lately. I’ve been consumed with purchasing wee-wee pads, a high-tech doggie stroller, and a custom-made canine harness for our new dog.

We were one week into giving a dog who has had a very hard life, a new home, when Jason and I got thrown for a loop. As a result, many people have been inquiring about her and sending their well wishes… so this post is an attempt to tell her story, and bring everyone up-to-date.

We learned about the injured dog in late March immediately following her rescue by Mayor’s Alliance for New York City’s Animals. She was left in front of Brooklyn Animal Care & Control (a high kill shelter) with two fractured elbows and a broken tail. Had it not been for the remarkable Siobhan Healy with Mayor’s Alliance, the dog wouldn’t even be here right now because she would have been put down that day.

We met her for the first time in early April as she was recovering post-op at a vet’s office in Murray Hill. We prepared all month for her arrival home and decided to name her Ella, after her broken elbows, and after Eleanor, the woman my fiancee Jason and I know one another because of. But we knew when she came home that Ella was only halfway there. She would need aggressive physical therapy, and because Ella was born with a severe heart murmur, she would need more surgery for that, too.

Ella learned to sit this way as a result of having to live with broken legs.

Ella came home the first weekend in May. We learned right away that she wasn’t house broken. After all, she had spent the majority of her life in a cage at vet’s offices around NYC. But she hobbled around some and delighted Jason and I with her voracious appetite and snorts and grunts and groans. Despite her injuries she was a happy dog, and an instant celebrity in the big, dog-friendly building that we live in.

About one week into life with this new family members, we noticed that one of Ella’s elbows looked funny – she had excess skin and tissue that extended beyond the point of an elbow – but we assumed it was just how she healed from the surgery. Feeling good and feeling proud to have such a determined and beautiful dog, we took Ella to her first hydrotherapy and acupuncture appointment in the neighborhood. The first set of x-rays were taken there since the surgery in March, and they showed that the pin holding the plate to her bone had come loose and could protrude through the skin at any moment. That was last Sunday.

The following morning on the way to 5th Avenue Vet Hospital, while Jason was driving alone with Ella in the backseat, the pin came through. Upon arrival at the vet hospital, they whisked her away and what ensued were back-to-back, three hour surgeries on her elbows. The left elbow on Monday, which went well, and the right elbow on Tuesday, which didn’t go as well.

We weren’t allowed to visit with Ella until Wednesday night. They needed to monitor her coming off the anesthesia and IV meds without her getting excited or stressed from seeing use. But the following night, we walked hand-in-hand and got into our car to pick her up. The excitement we felt then was mixed with uncertainty, sort of like the night before Christmas meets a box of chocolates.

Ella recovering from the second surgeries she had on eher elbows.

So Ella’s home now and we’re back at square one. This time, she’s not recovering at a vets office, but in our small apartment, which is actually ideal since she’s not supposed to walk around. And unfortunately, we’re also back at square one with the house training, too! On top of all that she’s been through, Ella is also in heat! Not fun, I know. She hasn’t been spayed up until this point because every time she’s been at the hospital, the anesthesia’s Ella got were for more important operations.

In order for Ella to get her heart surgery done, and to be spayed, the take-two on the elbow surgery HAS to work. So what this means for Jason and me is pretty much no life, and to be extra good care-givers, which we are willing to do, because we know this dog wants to be alive.

So many people say Ella is lucky to have us. And she is, we know that. But we also feel we are lucky to have her. Ella is an unfortunate example of animal abuse and a symbol of something for which we are both passionate about, animal rights. She has taught us so much in such a short period of time, and has also brought us closer together in a whole new way.

In the interim, as we plan our lives around a handicapped dog, I find myself saying tiny prayers, something I have not done a lot of in my life. ‘I hope she heals. I hope she is at our wedding. I hope she learns to tell us when she has to poop. I hope the stroller arrives in the mail today,’ and the list goes on…

Ah, the stroller… how much easier life will be when we don’t have to carry a 45 pound dog around town. Sure, people will point, and they will snicker, but what matters most is that some people will learn something, too. And for that reason alone, Ella is a gift.

To Change or Not to Change

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On an unusually warm weekend afternoon about a month ago, I walked into Diane T. on Court Street in Cobble Hill. They were having a sale and it was bedlam. I approached the sale rack and immediately a white sparkly number caught my eye. $750 marked down to $525. It was a hot dress but I was too overwhelmed by the crowd, the lack of ventilation, the price, and the fact that my fiance was waiting for me to return home (without shopping bags).

But I couldn’t get the dress out of my mind. I asked my friend Joie at work what she thought of a bride changing halfway through her wedding reception. A total diva, she replied, “Oh, I’ll change at least five times!” I told her about the sexy white frock that was marked down and that had caught my eye a few weeks earlier. She urged me right then and there to call the store and make sure they still had it.

The next day I was back at Diane T. I was met by the owner, Diane T., and a friendly and eager, young sales associate. The store was relatively empty as the two women prepped the tables and racks with colorful spring inventory.

I tried on the Catherine Malandrino dress (from the winter holiday collection) which was actually half off the originally marked $750! A steal at $375! It didn’t zip over my breasts, but looked dynamite everywhere else. I was pretty bummed.

When the young sales associate asked what it was for, I told her I was deliberating about changing into a party dress for the second half of my wedding in New York City. She loved the idea and shared in my disappointment that the dress did not fit. I felt defeated, so I did what any sensible shopper would do, I browsed the rack some more. I came across a black shirt-dress with flowy, butterfly-like sleeves. It fit and I loved the look. It too was half off, so I bought it.

As I approached the counter to pay, Diane T. asked what occasion the white dress would have been for. The young sales associate answered for me and told her it was for my wedding. The owner’s eyes widened then as her jaw dropped. She said she was going to guess that it was for my high school graduation. You could imagine her shock when I told her I was 30.

I could have kissed Diane T. when she said that, but instead a flood of other thoughts rushed through my head like, “What parent would ever let their 18 year old daughter wear that to her graduation? Was the graduate a star on Gossip Girl? Do I look like Billy Ray’s offspring? How would an 18 year old girl afford a dress like this? Am I really in the same salary cap as an 18 year old girl, or better yet, her parents?”

When the compliment wore off (by the way, I had my hair in a ponytail and was wearing a short, pink plaid dress, looking unusually young that day), a long conversation ensued about changing into a party dress halfway through the wedding. Christina Aguilera had done it, Ivana Trump most recently did it, and I learned that Diane T. had done it, too!

An hour after I entered the store I left two friends richer, and $125 poorer. I walked in for something white and walked out with something black and still don’t know if I am sold on changing from a gown and into a party dress on my wedding day. So I leave you, my readers, with this question: To change or not to change?

Mom, no need to take the poll, I already know your answer.

Letting Go of the Designer Name

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I’ve finally found my wedding dress. Saying “finally” is kind of funny because it wasn’t like I had a hard time finding one, or two, or even three. When I shop, I’m impulsive and act with a kind of fervor that I would liken to a kid in a candy store. Want proof? I had my maid of honor’s dress picked out and paid for before I even began the search for my dress!

I wasn’t the least bit surprised when I saw what a non-traditional bride I was turning out to be. I didn’t want to wear white and wouldn’t be caught dead in a poof. So it made all the sense in the world that I should set out on my wedding dress hunt by targeting my favorite designer, Marchesa.

I bought dress #1 on the Internet: A champagne lace gown with a vintage appeal that I just adored. It was gorgeous, but somehow NOT right for a backyard, garden ceremony.
I sent it back.

Marchesa

Thanks to a sultry redhead who I shared a Saks Fifth Avenue dressing room with, along came dress #2: Monique Lhuillier’s Iman gown. While she tried on poofs, I tried on sleek, silky numbers that were akin to the lingerie I had hanging in my closet at home. When I put on the Iman I told her that I thought my fiance would approve and that he would probably devour me in it. She replied, “Are you kidding, I’d devour you in that!” So I bought the Iman at at a bottom-bargain, sample sale price, and told myself there were others after Britney who wore Monique on their wedding day. I took it home where it sat in a Saks garment bag in my closet for months, putting off the inevitable… the dress needed work. It turned out that the dress was going to cost more money to alter and preserve than I had paid for it. All I have to say is thank goodness for eBay.

Monique Lhuillier

When I was willing to let go of the designer name — hey, what can I say, I live in New York — I found dress #3. THE dress. I was with mom, not a mouse and not an anonymous redhead. Picture to come post-wedding… after all, some things should be a surprise!

Coming Full Circle

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Technically my first ever blog post: Previously published on New York Women In Communcations’ Blog.

In 2002, I graduated from Baruch College with a bachelor’s degree in corporate communications. It was the summer after 9/11, the economy was stagnant, and so were my employment prospects. After a fruitless job search, I did what any young, passionate, unemployed student would do… I packed my bags and trekked through Europe and Morocco.

When I returned from my travels, I found work as a bartender and applied to the graduate business journalism program at Baruch, into which I was accepted. I had no practical business experience, but, ironically enough, it was through my bartending job in Brooklyn that I got my first break in the business world. I was a month into graduate school then, and the idea of having a desk job, in an office with professional people, was a very attractive one.

I was offered a well-paid internship at the New York Stock Exchange. During my three years there, I published an investigative article, was promoted to “financial consultant,” and graduated from Baruch with my master’s. With three years of financial services under my belt, I had no idea that I had begun to dig my way into a “career corner.” However, as I began to apply for other jobs, I realized that the only interviews I could get with a comparable salary were with other financial service companies like Refco, UBS, and finally, in 2005, Goldman Sachs.

I knew from Day 1 that the buttoned-down, corporate-culture at Goldman Sachs did not suit me. I found the environment to be stifling and impersonal, and worst of all, the very business writing skills that I had invested great time, energy, and money in learning were not being applied. In fact, I found myself writing little more than emails.

My career exploration needed to take another turn. I had inadvertently attained a successful career in financial services and wanted to find a way out. I went to networking events, and set up coffee, dinner and drink dates with contacts in the communications industry for nearly a year. Among the many conversations I had, I clearly recall one with a woman who was the managing director of a PR firm in NY. She put it into perspective for me: I had pigeonholed myself in an industry by blindly going after my paycheck and not my passion.

Change finally came this past January. I was hired for a financial news writing position that I had interviewed for exactly one year earlier. After my initial interview with the company, I had followed up by sending emails and attending other media events that they held. At the time, it seemed as though all my networking was for naught. However, the position was part of a web show that was being developed, and as it turned out, it took my current boss a full year to move forward in hiring. A steady combination of patience, perseverance, and networking had paid off.

Today, I am an in-house writer for a stock loan company. I write financial news scripts for an online web show that combines stock news with humor and entertainment. At long last, I have finally found the job that is a perfect fit. It may sound silly, but I would not have found my way if I had not at first been lost.

As for the corporate world that I left behind, let’s just say I like referring to it in the past tense. And as for my career, I’m often surprised to hear myself use the words “love” and “job” in the same sentence… but I’m beginning to get used to it.

A Piece of the NYC Real Estate Pie

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Toren in Downtown Brooklyn.

Yesterday I took my piece of the New York City real estate pie. I put a chunky down payment on a new construction, one bedroom condo at the Toren in Downtown Brooklyn.

I’ve lived in this borough eight years. My fiancee Jason has lived here three years. He’s one of those Manhattan transplants who begrudgingly moves here and then doesn’t look back.

I know a one bedroom isn’t big but it’s a step up from the studio apartment we are living in now. And well, by New York City standards, it sort of is big. To own a piece of property in this big city is, let’s face it, big!

I hope we made the right move. I think we did. We love this borough. We love new construction and well, we love each other. The sum of all these things should add up to a happy home to come! Feeling very excited right now!