From Awkward Moment to Teaching Moment: Tips for NYC

I started writing this blog post over a month ago, as soon as I got home from my internship this past summer, and then OHMYGODAPPLYINGTOGRADSCHOOL happened. Well, anyways.....

I had the crazy opportunity of interning at basically my dream job, located in midtown Manhattan. Out of sheer luck, one of my best friends, Jessica, was also interning in the city (though living in a different place and interning at a different company). Going into this, I knew I was going to experience some awkward moments; I experience so many in daily life that me and my friends have an inside joke of saying “TSM” as in “Total Sarah Move”. (We all think we are hilarious). But awkward moments can also be teaching moments, so here I will share a few with you.

1.     It is legitimately necessary to carry half of Duane Reade (the Walgreens of NYC) in your purse.

Because you never know when you’re going to be walking through the large metal turnstile in the subway station, casually minding your own business, when the person behind you is suddenly in a BIG hurry, and pushes the sharp bottom edge of the turnstile straight into your ankle. You will inevitably end up hopping on one foot to get out of the way, trying to make eye contact with the 80-year old culprit who is giving you a total “sorry not sorry” look. And then you will probably end up on the side of the street bleeding semi-profusely with no napkin or tissue in your purse, and you will be SO THANKFUL that you have that band-aid in there that’s half the size of your face.

2.   

          Walking on top of the grates on the sidewalk can help you save time by getting around people fast, but it’s just not worth it if you’re wearing a dress.

Because do you know what those grates are for? They let (minimal) oxygen into the subway stations, and every 60 seconds or so a subway car whizzes by under those grates you’re walking over. And a subway car whizzing by creates wind, which creates a not-as-classy-as-Marilyn moment.

(these are screenshots from a video Jessica took of this happening in real-time. Great.)

3.     Coney Island DOES have a place to wash your feet when you come off of the beach.

Don’t be fooled by the fact that two of the beach entrances don’t have a spicket. Don’t give up looking and think that that thing over there that spurts water up into the air at random intervals that kids play in is your best option. Don’t think that the pools of water that that fountain leaves behind don’t have total grime in them that will slather your foot. Because if you do all of the above, you might end up in the most randomly fancy bathroom with your foot in the sink, which is all fun and games until a) other people walk in and b) there are no paper towels in the bathroom. You will look at your best friend who also has her foot in the sink and she will mutter “our mothers would not be proud of us at this moment”.

4.     Be prepared for when it rains.

Because you might think you are already prepared: you have an umbrella, and you even have that new pair of crocs flats your mom sent you for occasions just like this. So you might roll up your pants, slip on the crocs, and feel ready to take on the rainy city when you step into the street to cross and suddenly realize that those crocs are a solid size too big for you. And you will literally step out of your shoe in the middle of the street, in the pouring rain, and have to hop back to get it, whilst the time on the crosswalk blinks in red at you and there are at least 4 cabs ready to run you over.

5.     When eating alone, make sure you check your face after you finish to make sure there’s no bits of food left over.

This is good advice for any person living anywhere, but is especially important in a city such as NYC, where you are surrounded by thousands of people at all times and under bright lights. Because after eating a heavenly nutella-filled croissant you might have to walk through a park full of people, and wait in the brightly-lit subway station for 20 minutes. And you’re going to feel pretty stupid when you get home to find large spots of nutella on your face and realize that you must have looked like a total drunkard when you tripped in the park and suddenly those judging looks that that couple gave you make sense.

6.     Don’t believe everything the native-New Yorker interns tell you.

Because as it turns out, Norwegian is not taught to every kindergartener in NYC private school, brunch IS legal to have on both Saturday and Sunday, it is NOT commonly accepted by New Yorkers that mice will run across your bed roughly 3 times a month, and Chipotle did not start a new “green” initiative in NY where you pay half if you get your burrito served into your cupped hands. And they will present you with a list at the end of all of the lies they told, and you will face-palm for believing them.

(the list------------>)

And lastly, when you get home, and you have had your fill of the whataburger and chicfila you haven't had in 3 months and have pet your cats and taken a glorious shower in a bathroom that you don't have to share...

Don't pretend like you don't miss it. 

I miss the specialty cookie place down the street from work, and listening to pieces of people's lives on the subway, seeing a new street or part of the city almost every day, my hilarious roommates, weekend walks through the endless central park, and most of all, the wonderful other interns who I spent hundreds of hours with this summer!

My Cheesy Friendship Post

    For a lot of my life (not that it's been that long), I have had times where I felt as if I did not have enough friends. I think pretty much everyone has felt that way at some point. I still feel a little bit like that to this day sometimes. There was also a time when I had no close friends at all whatsoever. I remember looking through the contacts in my phone in my 17 year old state of boredom-induced depression, thinking "there is not a single person in here I could call right now." But pity party over, because I wouldn't take that time back. As awful as it was, it taught me the importance of friendships and how to treat people properly in order to keep them close.
    These days, I feel like I have finally found my "group". I have a very level-headed core group of friends who do nothing but bring me up, never down. We are all extremely driven to have a high level of success in our individual endeavors, which means we keep each other motivated because we see each other working hard. My best friends are my biggest cheerleaders for everything I do, and I try to be theirs.
    When faced with the possibility of spending my summer in New York City at an internship I probably couldn't have even dreamed possible to exist, I thought "this is not something you could ever do, Sarah." In my eyes, I could never imagine doing something that terrifying; I'm the anxious, quiet girl who is susceptible to panic attacks when laying in my own bed. I trip over my own feet at least twice a day. I find it difficult to speak at a volume that can reach the average persons ear. I could not go to New York...I would be begging my parents to let me fly back two days in. My friends thought otherwise. The amount of times I heard "you have to go to New York" come out of their mouths is not a countable number. They drilled it into my head so that I started to believe I actually could be able to do it. And now I'm going to do it, the horribly scary thing; but thanks to my friends I am no longer thinking of it only in that way...maybe it won't just be horribly scary. Maybe it will be a life-altering adventure. And I know I have to give myself some credit, but I would be in such a state of disarray without my closest friends. As one of my best friends likes to put it when talking about our friendship "without you, I would be drunk under my desk."
    The point of this story is, surrounding yourself with people who will outright tell you they are proud of you, that you can do it, that they believe in you; those are the kinds of people to have in your life. And I am eternally grateful I have them.

"You were born with the ability to change someone's life. Dont ever waste it."

So I was scrolling away through pinterest looking at quotes, because if you know me at all, you will know at least one thing about me; I am a bit of a quote w-.... addict. The cheesy, inspirational kind. And so I came across this one, and it is so simple yet so powerful to me. It relates to what I aspire to do in my life as a psychologist.

"You were born with the ability to change someone's life. Dont ever waste it."

I'm not seeking a career in psychology/therapy so that I can be a life-changer. I am seeking it because I want to be a life helper. The quote says that you were born with the ability to change someones life. Well I was born with a few difficulties (as was everyone). I had Selective Mutism (here is where a scientific definition would be, but I'm not feeling it. If anyone is actually reading this, google is your friend!) Basically, it's when you're a kid and you have so much anxiety that it culminates into you not speaking in social situations. So long story short, I didn't talk at school or in public or to anyone other than 10 people for twelve years. And once I was a bit older, I developed panic disorder where I had panic attacks on a semi-frequent basis. Throughout high school I considered my panic attacks and my past with SM as a large, pointless burden. I cried to my counselor that it "just wasn't fair" and asked "why does this have to happen to ME?" (Can you tell I was 14 at the time?) I was frustrated with the world or whatever had thrust this seemingly unnecessary suffering onto me, but I tried to ignore it and live a normal, happy, high-schooler life.

Then high school ended and the summer before college was halfway gone, and my anxiety went berserk. To the point where I could not leave the house, where I could not go six hours without seriously thinking I was going to die due to my latest horrible panic attack. Low points included holding the phone for an hour with my thumb resting on the 9 when I was home alone, and having my parents pick me up from my dorm because I was in such a terrified state.

And then it got better. I continued to live in my dorm, I pushed through the panic and went to my classes. I made a best friend and therefore lifeline out of my room mate. And by christmas break, I came to a revelation of sorts. I had always wanted to go into psychology because I was sensitive and I liked helping people and giving them advice. But I came to a realization that this burden I had complained about to my high school counselor, this "unnecessary suffering" could have a purpose after all. It gave me insight. Insight to help other kids with SM, a problem few people really understand, let alone know about. Insight to where I could tell others with anxiety that I had been to hell and back with panic attacks, and that you.will.be.alright. Maybe I can change someones life, who knows. But really all I want to do is help. And the struggles in my life have given me the ability to. So I will not put to waste the crappy things I had to go through. I will not waste my ability to help someone. I will not.

Wanna talk about me, wanna talk about I, number one oh my me my.

My name is Sarah.

That is the most uninventive, predictable, ordinary way to start a blog.

Oh well.

Here are the basics. I am just another college kid with a google plus blog typing out whatever I feel because I'm bored and I'm alright at writing, and I apparently think I'm funny and clever seeing as I named my blog "sarahnadingyou." (I'm not going to lie that I was pretty excited when I found that that domain wasn't taken.) I'm an introvert. I'm a psychology nerd. I have red hair (somehow I find this important.) I apparently like parenthesis. I tend to read instead of go to raging college parties, though I have been to a few. I like football. I am a hopeless romantic who can go on rants about how brilliant certain Taylor Swift lyrics are. Don't write me off just for loving a good lyric! I am quiet and reserved to the outside world, but at the same time will often be the one to keep a conversation going in a group of people that may not know each other well. I have struggled with anxiety and panic attacks, which I will address at a later time. I give a lot of advice, probably too much. I let myself feel things full heartedly, which is a good and a bad thing. I am a deep thinker but at the same time very silly and I make ridiculously stupid jokes. I am self absorbed because I just realized no one is going to want to read all about my personality unless they read something else I wrote first and decided they wanted to know more about me. Whoops.

I titled my blog "I'm Just Saying" because I tend to word-vomit (mean girls anyone?) quite a lot, or at least I always say what's on my mind. Justifying saying it by adding "I'm just saying" to the end.

So that's me. This is my blog. I might end up ditching it, this is kind of an experiment. But until then I hope to fill it with random thoughts, rants, and reviews. If you read this and you don't already know me....you're a saint. Or you're really really bored.

You have just been sarahnaded.