Tattoo Tales: That Other Design

While I was researching designs for the first one, I had come across a little piece that I couldn’t get out of my head.  A simple little black cat outline that just stuck with me for years.  I would draw it on my forearm with a pen and act like it was another temporary tattoo.  A passing fancy.  I’d told myself I only wanted one tattoo.  That I didn’t need any more ink.  But I couldn’t forget the design.  And where I would put it.  And how much I knew I would love it (senseI love cats and all).  And how it was a little black cat and I would get it on a Friday the 13th so it was even more cool.

Fast forward forward about 3 years… and find me, on a Friday the 13th in May… wandering into another tattoo parlor.  This one not nearly as fancy and posh as the studio I did my first tattoo at. In fact, it was not fancy or posh at all… it was a literal hole in the wall tattoo studio somewhere in Wash Heights that shared space with a gym and was a total of 1 room.  No paperwork to fill out.  Cash only… I know, it sounds like the start of a horror story, but you know the ending- I’m still here and I have not lost any limbs… so it turns out ok.

The kid (honestly he was 18) was super nice and when I walked it said he could do the design for cheap and asked if he could clean up the image for me.  Of course I said yes, cause I can’t draw to save my life and my rough little sketch was not what I wanted the final piece to look like.   After about 10 minutes we were ready to start.  I sat in a folding chair with my forearm on a little stand covered in fresh plastic wrap.

Snap on the gloves, peal open the needle, squirt in the ink, and buzz the gun…. and we were ready to go.

I felt like it was over before it even began!  I guess that’s what happens when you get your largest piece as your first tattoo.  Everything else starts to feel a little easier.  Or at least shorter.  I wouldn’t say easy.  It’s still painful.  You are still agreeing to have your body pricked repeatedly with a needle and inject ink into your skin.  But 20 minutes later it was done and (only a little bloody) cleaned and neatly wrapped in plastic.

IMG_0403Like nothing had happened I jumped right on the train and went to work.  That’s life isn’t it.  In my mind yeah, getting tattooed was a big deal, but in the grand scheme of things, it is just like running another errand and you still have commitments to take care of.

I remember being at work that evening siting at the computer and trying not to brush my arm up against the desk because it hurt.  And waiting 3 hours till I could take off the plastic and clean my arm- finally getting a really good look at my little black cat.

I mean, it’s been another 3 years now and I still look at my arm and wonder why the pen drawing hasn’t washed off yet.  Honestly I forget it’s a permanent tattoo.  I got so used to seeing it on my arm and acting like it was real, not that it is, it’s not a big change.

I get all of my tattoos for me.  So I want them look best when I look at them (sense I’m the one seeing them the most). The best is when people see the cat and ask what it is.  Apparently upside-down from a distance and if you have no idea what it could be it looks like the “death eaters” symbol from Harry Potter ….. I’m sorry to disappoint- it’s not… but that makes a fun story to share here.

A word of wisdom to the wise from someone with ink?  Have a reason for an piece you get.  Have a story to tell about it.  Have a really amazing personal reason for getting it.  Cause you know what, people will ask.  They will want to share their stories.

So I have a little black cat tat that I got on a Friday the 13th with a full moon and while Mercury was in retrograde.  Thats a lot of superstition right there!

Do you have a fun tattoo story to share?  Let’s here them!




Tattoo Tales: One & Done

It’s true what they say, tattoos are addicting.

You think “Oh, it’s just one tattoo.  I have no interest in any other design or any other ink.”

Summer about 6 years ago I wrote a bucket list in my head.  A few various interesting things I decided I wanted to do during my life.  Get some time on the gun range, go trail riding, and get a tattoo, were the 3 that made the top of that list.  To this day I can’t tell you why “get a tattoo” came up first on that list, but it did.  Not cause a friend got one or my parents had them, not cause I wanted to be accepted or cool or fit in or join a gang.  I just couldn’t get it out of my head.  I started looking up design ideas and placement and looking into what it would entail to get a tattoo.

(I’ve still never gone trail riding again or shot a gun… although I’ve added run a half marathon in all 50 states to the list!)

After a few months I’d custom designed what I wanted, decided on placement, and scouted parlors.  I put the design on my screen saver so I got used to looking at it every day and ant time I saw something I didn’t like, I’d tweak it,  adjusting it to be just so until it was perfect.

I’d told family and friends that I was planning on “getting tatted” and of course I got mixed responses.  Mother dearest at first thought it was a cool idea, then changed her mind… the boy told me how it would mess up my future or career options… my roommate was totally excited (cause she also wanted one)…  Of course no one could really understand why I would want to do that.  What was I thinking?!

Finally the day came.  I’d made an appointment, finalized the design, and had my best friend there to distract me the whole time and drive home (lol).  I rolled up to Liberty Tattoo on Ponce, filled out my paperwork, only to discover they hadn’t gotten the design I emailed or written down my appointment.  So I waited and waited… of course getting more and more anxious, but I didn’t leave.

Finally I was getting settled on the table, the design was traced and drying on my ankle before my artist started.  Fresh needle, gloves, plastic cover, black ink.  She asked if I was ready and so it began.

270050_10151561083247468_1948931146_nBeing totally honest, I don’t remember much about actually getting that tattoo anymore.  I remember almost breaking Jessica’s hand and nearly changing the design in the middle of the whole thing cause it hurt.  But once it’s started there is really no going back.  All you can really do is keep breathing and remain very still.  How long this took I don’t remember but I was probably done shortly after an hour.  I do remember looking at the fresh tattoo on my ankle in the mirror moments after it was finished and cleaned.  I remember freaking out (in my head of course) just  a little at how much bigger it was then I have visualized and how much lower on my ankle it was then I planned.  But it was done.  There was no going back and I couldn’t look at it long… seconds later it was bandaged up and covered in plastic.

It was done.  I had a tattoo.

149157_10151561083017468_2012135467_nLooking at it a few hours later when I was able to unwrap it and wash it for the first time, that’s when I really fell in love.  It was perfect.  There were things I didn’t know would work- the placement and size especially- but I trusted my artist and my guy.

I heard over and over how after 2 years I would regret getting the tattoo.  After 2 years passed it was, “well after 5 years it will start to fade and you will have grown up and changed and you will regret it”.

Well y’all, it’s been over 6 years and I still love it more and more every time I put my shoes on or paint my nails.   I’ve taken exceptional care or it and there is very little excessive fading.

I couldn’t listen to all the noise.  My body, my design, my choice.  And I’m more myself for it every day.

What have people told you about getting tattooed?  Is it still taboo?



Social Media Memories


July 23rd.


I set up my Facebook account.  Sitting in a bubble tea/Internet cafe in the small river town of Grafton, IL. before there were smart phones and selfies and unlimited data and so much more.  I sat there with some girls that would become my life long friends regardless of where life took us.   We laughed and took tons of photos.  We accepted each others Friend Requests and started something that would last for well… 10 years and counting.

I’ve kept that Facebook account active all these years to keep in touch with all of those people and the hundreds more I’ve met along the way.  We are spread out all over the country… all over the world… and thanks to Facebook (and Instagram and Twitter and the rest now) we are able to wish one another Happy Birthday, anniversary, graduation, move, baby, pet adoption, and job change.  We can celebrate, grieve, argue, and explore all through social media.  We have watched each other grow up thousands of miles away through a screen.

Social media can be pretty amazing.  Not only can we keep up with so many people and activities, but we can document moments and events, special occasions and meetings through photos and written accounts. Through our accounts we can save memories to look back at them later.

So often these memories are good.  Don’t most people only share the fun times and keep the painful ones private?  But no life is perfect.  Not all memories are good.  Some things are very hard to relive.  There are life events we barely got through in the first place.   Painful or upsetting times and people who are no longer in our lives. Then Facebook pops them up on our time lines reminding us of the good, bad and ugly.   You see yourself in different times and places with different people.


Should we be able to relive these memories?  I have an account with 10 years worth of memories.  Celebrations.  Death.  Love.  Loss.  Performances.  Relationships.  Travel.  Parties.  This list could go on.  We can so easily go back and see our good times and bad times.  Looking through only profile pictures I see so many hair colors and pounds gained or lost, and other people who mattered enough to be there… then.


There have been SO many times I’ve thought about deactivated my account.

I can’t live with the memories.  The constant reminders of what I had that I lost.  The constant look back at my ridiculous state of mind as an angsty teen or the beautiful performances that are from a life I no longer live.  In another 10 years, what will I think of myself now?  Is that something I want to know?

Then I see the happy times.  Those events or people or celebrations that make it all worth it.  Having the beautiful (although occasionally painful) ability to see the relive these memories can remind us who we are.  Our brains can change these memories.  We pull what we want… from time to time we loose the details.

14889861_10155440850462468_4122340096916980480_oJuly 23rd.


I mean, I still have Facebook.  I’m very active on Instagram.  Twitter is always in the back seat, but it’s there.

There are 10 years of life and memories accessible through my computer.  What will the next 10 years bring?  What advances in technology and life will there be?  Where will we all be in 10 years?  Or even 5 years?  Will we still have Facebook or Instagram?

One thing is for sure, we will continue to live life and make memories.  We will continue to find ways to document these memories.  It’s our nature… as people…. to save memories. And right now Social Media is the way we do it.

Store your memories through Social Media?  How do you feel about that?



Conversation Chess

Before we even begin this little intellectual adventure, be warned that I’m writing pre coffee and contacts.  Yes, you all ready that right and I’m relying on my oh so smart MacBook Air  maybe more then I should to catch the errors I can’t see (literally).   So here we go, a little morning brain dump/rant/concept exploration that kept me up half the night.

Now I don’t mean that in a negative way- kept me up half the night- it’s ok, it’s good, it’s important.  When you have brilliant friends, as I do, you are often challenged to see and think a little differently about your words, thoughts, and actions.  You are challenged and engaged to see past the end of your noise and maybe just maybe trust yourself enough to go out on a limb for something you want, even if it’s totally new and scary for you… cause you know what, you may like the outcome.  Of course it may turn out it’s not what you want, but then you know.  You know not because you assumed but because you did.

I know what you all may be thinking– HOW is this anything about conversation or chess or anything?  It’s Monday morning and you were really hoping for a white piece about a race or a cat…. well, exactly… that’s what you would expect (and there will be plenty of those in the future) but today let’s make the move you didn’t see coming.

Conversation as Chess.

I had a long conversation last night about conversations.  Analyzing conversations and looking for a potential desired outcome.  The importance of paying close attention to the small details and acting no them.  Answering a question not with a straight flat answer, but with another question or a gripping answer- which in turn causes your opponent (let’s keep with the chess theme) to respond- to engage you in a conversation to the death (preferably of their king of course, but you never know).

The artist in me had so many visualizations of this concept.  One that I almost used was a play off the ConEd ad “Smell Gas, Act Fast.  Don’t thinking someone else will make the call”.  But this ended up lacking  the complexity of a conversation analysis as I wanted for this post… so chess can to mind.   Even though I know very little about the actual playing of the game, I have a pretty solid idea… I lost many a game to my brother back in the day.

Let’s say the piece are different words and topics you could use to start or continue an engaging interesting conversation.

The moves and strategy involved in each play is the same as the thought and strategy (new favorite word here) you involve in a conversation to draw out and reveal the interesting angles of your partner.

And that partner, that opponent who’s king you are trying to capture, is the person across the table or sitting next to you, with whom you really want to engage.

From time to time, a Pawn must be sacrificed.  You test the waters of conversation with them to see what sticks… and what gets shot down quick.   But they can also clear the way and begin to open up windows of opportunity for you to get something deeper  from your opponent.  The pawns can draw out the more interesting characters, the more complex topics, that can surprise you.   Don’t always talk about the expected- the race, the cat, the job, the travel destination… but find the nugget of common interest in each one… the photo, the whisky, the charred interest.  That’s where things go from flat to rolling hills (runner moment there).

These surprises are what can build exciting conversations, if you know how to use them correctly.  Don’t attack in a straight line- here don’t give a flat one dimensional answer to a question that could be a jumping off point for something more intriguing.  Instead, attack from the side or jump over someone to get at something more important that was just left lying around- find the sparks in the conversation, reply to something not asked but mentioned in passing and keep your partner watching your plays.  Keep them on their toes so they want to know what you have in store.

These plays can go on for days or maybe they are short lived (as my games were when I was 14).  Either way, each play needs to be worth the move, worth the piece, worth your time.  If it’s not, both players spent time on something that fizzled out and ended up being nothing.   Maybe it takes a game or two or even three to get you bearings and get some nerve to be yourself on the chess board.  To make the unexpected moves and take your opponent off guard.  Then maybe, just maybe that bold move, that humorous unexpected answer, will leave them wanting just a little more and a little more.  You start a volley.  A deeper back and forth conversation that is now more then rolling hills, but some steep inclines that force you to go to a much deeper level before you can enjoy the downhill (oops, ok again more of a running image there… but I’m better at that then chess, geeze!).

Perhaps you eventually get to the cat and mouse game with the king and queen dancing around the board, a few meager pieces attempting to stop her wrath and guard their king.  A battle to the death or a draw.  Where does it go from here?

Two players shake it off and walk away.  The moment was fun but now the moment has passed.  On to find a more suitable opponent.   OR.  Or these two set that board up again and play another round.  Another change to engage one another in something deeper and intriguing that keeps both coming back to the chess board over and over.  Even if the same one of the pair looses each time, the game-the complexity and deep interest of the conversation- that’s what matters most.

But remember… it may take a round or two to get there.

And there you have it.  This may be the most intellectual I will ever be without coffee.  But as I don’t see and red dotted lines running rampant through this post, I must have done something right.

I hope you enjoy. I hope you can see (at least a little) what the underlying message here.  It applies to everything, to just about every conversation- every relationship.


Thoughts?  Please share!



Can’t be MIA anymore!

Beautiful amazing readers and followers!

I know, I’ve been MIA for… well, longer then I should have been.  BUT there is a lot of amazing stuff coming your way.

Just to peak your interest (and hold myself accountable) let’s take a look at what I have in store and draft for y’all!

  • Tattoo Tales– I have 5 now, why not tell the stories behind them.  There can be so much taboo about tattoos and I want to break that down.
  • Race Reviews– I’m taking a break from running right now but I have some great stories to tell from the last 3 big races I did in the spring.
  • Bali Files– The stories continue!  I still have some fun times to share with you all.

… and more!

Anything you all want to hear about?  Topics you want me to write about or questions you have about anything I write?

Let me know!



Tourist for a Day

Living in a city like New York means you learn to put blinders on to the unpleasant and annoying sights, smells, sounds, and strangers.  It also means you can miss those beautiful moments that only have the opportunity to happen in a place like NYC.

Visiting a city like New York means you are just the opposite.  You see everything (and of course you comment on it).  Nothing gets past you.  Maybe you don’t know exactly what you are seeing, smelling, sampling, or supporting, but you experience it all.

If you are like me and you live here, it means you are the person every friend and family members wants to see.  No, they don’t particularly want to see you, they want to see the city (preferably with a room and a guide they don’t have to pay an arm and a leg for) so you are their ticket in.  This can go two ways, 1. they have a plan and just crash with you, maybe have dinner, but otherwise they are out and about on their own OR 2. they need you to take them everywhere, navigate the subway, explain every thing you see, and be sure they eat and get home at night.

It can always be a little overwhelming having visitors, especially those who need all your time and attention.  But it can also be a chance to show down and actually see the city you have decided to call home.  Maybe the building you pass over and over again on your commute is actually a beautiful historical piece of architectural work, but you never noticed cause there is always a homeless man there and you never wanted to seem too interested.

Having a visitor in town gives you the perfect excuse to turn into a tourist for the day and see your home free of blinders and tinted ideas.  This is that once a year time you allow yourself to actually set foot in times square or stand in a cue for something.  You may eat out a little more or splurge on those nicer seats for a show (I think this may be my favorite part of having guests).

I’m not saying it’s not exhausting or expensive, but playing host can open you up to a lot of fun and adventure that’s right in your backyard… if you are able to look up and see it!

When you are a tourist for a day in your home city, what is something you enjoy experiencing?

Share all of your stories here!



Drink Scotch Whisky, All Night Long

(A memorable line from one of my favorite Steely Dan songs on the Aja album.)

IMG_0506Or all day long, if you are in Scotland!
On a truly Scottish morning, grey and damp, we got an early start to walk about the city and plan the day.  Walking past Edinburgh Castle shrouded in misty, passing through a market, and from Old Town to New Town.  Seeing this beautiful city on foot is really the best way to go.

After a stroll, it was 11AM and time to head off to the Scotch Whiskey Experience for a lesson on scotch whisky making and a little tasting.

What?  Scotch Whisky at 11am?  Are you crazy?

Maybe only a little crazy, but it’s actually best to do a tasting earlier in the day before one’s pallet is tainted.  And besides, what could be more Scottish?!


This tour included an entertaining little ride in a barrel to discover the ingredients and techniques used to make scotch whisky as well as a lesson on the different scotch making regions in Scotland, each with different flavors and specialties.




After the learning came the tasting! We got a review of the old swirl, sniff, and sip techniques while admiring one of the worlds largest collections of unopened scotch.




After this, if you possessed the “Golden Ticket” you had the opportunity to sit in the cafe and explore a tasting flight of 4 additional different Scotch samples from the different regions discussed on the tour.  I discovered Highland Scotch is for me and anything to smoky makes me cough, but there was no complaining involved, how often will this get to happen!


Now personally, I’ve always been a gin girl myself… but there is something very pleasing about a smoky scotch to warm you on a chilly evening.  I was also in luck, as there was plenty of gin to be found in Scotland!  My favorite haunt?  Nicholson’s Bar– basically a whole section of the menu dedicated to “build your own Gin & Tonic” and I was in heaven.


My favorite of the evening?  Williams Aged Sloe & Mulberry Gin with Lemon Tonic.

If I could get this in the states, I would fill my apartment with it (sadly they don’t bill or ship outside of the UK).  Basically a little sweet and more tart then other gins I’ve had. Very different from many gins in that the juniper flavor was very low key.  The Lemon Tonic added a lot, and who knew there were so many different options for tonic!

So yes, on this trip there was a lot of (good) drinking.  Instant coffee all morning- don’t get me started on this!- and Spirits all night.

On our walking adventures we did find a cute local coffee shop, aka not Starbucks, and had a peaceful sit down to sip lattes and watch the people go by.  I’ve found that everywhere I go I’m looking for a local coffee place to perch relax, it really helps me feel like I’m actually living in a place and in that moment, a member of the local community.  It’s like a tradition.  My local corner in Upper Manhattan, Anomali Coffee in Ubud, Bali and  now Procafination in Edinburgh!  Really no better place to get a feel for a city, while taking care of my never ending caffeine need  😉

Have you had the opportunity to drink whiskey in Scotland?  What fun drinks have you found on your globe trekking adventures?   Share them in the comments below!



If you give a Jones a passport…

She is going to want to leave the country.

If you let a Jones leave the country…

Upon her return, she is going to want to leave again!

And again and again… Yes it’s happened.  I told ya’ll I’d been bitten by the travel bug and within 3 months of my first international trip, I’ve already come and gone once more.  And with the travel list growing, I’ll be on a jet sooner then I ever expected, I’m sure.



I’ve come to find that international travel, while it can be pricy, it’s that scary or hard, as I always imagined.  There are so many beautiful, amazing, historical, and exciting places out there and I want to see them.  I don’t want to look at the pictures others take, I want to take my own but see each scene though my eyes first.  I understand now how to leave and enjoy the journey, then come back and live my life with all the life changing experiences in my back pocket.

Growing up I want’s going to London or Paris for Spring break.  I didn’t spend summer on a beach in Mexico or the Caribbean.  I didn’t study a culture that is currently in existence (ancient Rome and Greece are buried somewhere among modern day cities) that one can visit for a semester.  I mean, I hardly traveled by air plane until I moved to New York and couldn’t always be road tripping home.  Some may say I missed out, but I always had my passport… I just needed the right people at the right time to actually pick a place, pack a bag, and go!

Traveling as a young adult is actually pretty great.

I get to pick where I’m going and what I’m doing when I get there.

As I’m paying for the travel, I’m planning wisely and then thoroughly enjoying it all, cause I know I worked very hard to be where I am. IMG_0316

Other then my kitten, I don’t have much to worry about that I’m leaving behind.  I am not always worried or checking in on the family.  There isn’t someone fussing about and waiting for me to come home to cook, clean, or do anything.

As we know, I’m a planner, which means I can give my job plenty of notice and then work very hard to set the studio up for success as well as rack up my little vacation hours.  This way, as soon as wheels are up, I can relax while I’m away.

All of this because you gave a Jones a passport.  And that passport, after sitting in a lock box for years is finally getting a little rough around the edges and filled with stamps.

That’s it.  Just a quick little thoughtful post.  Nothing to fancy, nothing to long.

Where are you headed with your passport?



Stand Clear of the Closing Doors: NYC Subway Culture

Look ya’ll!  We made it to Wednesday!  And I think all of us New Yorkers can agree that between the weather and the politics and the tourists and the usual day to day grind of work and home life, the city has been it’s usually frustrated self and then some.

If you’ve even traveled through New York by subway, I’m sure you will be able to relate to this post. Underground is a whole different culture, playing by it’s own set of rules, with it’s own set of problems and frustrations.

As someone who lives here and travels by train several times a day, I’ve seen a lot of strange and annoying things… and I’ve smelled even stranger. I thought a piece on “train culture” would be interesting and would give me a chance to share some of my top favorite train experiences.

Mostly, it’s all about the people. Sure, sometimes the MTA system screws you over and never tells you your train will be out of service or running local when it should be express. Or you get stuck in a tunnel without cell service- so you can’t tell your boss you are gonna be late for that important meeting… but some of that wouldn’t be so bad if you were just able to sit in piece and deal with it alone. Instead, you are surrounded by people, tons of strangers… all trying to get to someplace.

The weather, the time of day, the temperature outside and inside the car, all of these affect the commute and the people on the train. I’ve seen full out fights start because people won’t move into the center of a car and someone else can’t get in, so they push and shove and piss someone off.

It’s not always bad, thank goodness. When men stand and offer their seat to women, when someone holds the door cause they see you running to the train, those that you share a moment with when there is a crazy homeless person on a screaming rant and the train has stalled out in the tunnels. Remember that post a few weeks ago, “OH the 1 Train”? While I seriously disliked having to stand and have that guy hit on me the whole commute, the girl I ended up chatting with later and the other passengers who shared in a laugh at my facial expression was very fun.

Usually though, as soon as you descend down those stairs underground, the rules all change. We fight for seats, we push and shove to get into a crowded car, and we all deal with annoying things. Here are some of my favorite subway irritating moments… at least to date. Pictures and “definitions” are all mine… as are the titles themselves for that matter.

The Poll Hog:

Definition: Leaning a large portion of one’s body on the center polls that are meant to over a place for multiple people to hold onto when standing on a moving train and offer stability so one does not fall and the train lurches down the tunnels.IMG_1333.JPG



I only understand this one when the train is nearly empty or you are the only one standing. But when you are one of many on a crowded train—DON’T LEAN!! Suddenly there is so many fewer options for everyone else to find a place to hold onto. I’ve been one of 10 people holding onto one poll before, but in the blink of an eye, one person can hog a whole spot and the rest of us might just be outta luck. I don’t know what makes some people feel so entitled as to do this!

Man Spread

Definition: Taking up more then one seat per-person. For men, most often accomplished by sitting with legs spread. For women, most often accomplished by allowing ones purse to have a seat of it’s own.

I’m sorry if it’s uncomfortable, or you really don’t fit in the seat, or you don’t want to keep your personal belongings in your personal space… but you don’t need 2 seats on the train. What? You don’t want someone sitting next to you… or you think you are better then everyone else and you need more space? Oh GET OVER YOURSELF!! It’s rude, it’s also unslightly. And then glare when someone brave enough comes over and squeezes in. In a city where everyone thinks they are entitled either because of who they are wearing, what they do, what they Don’t do, how old they are, and on and on… it’s almost expected, but totally annoying. And I know, it the spots were reverse and I were taking up 2 seats… well, it wouldn’t last long!

The Chicken Wing

Definition: Someone who holds onto the bars and totally forgets where their elbow is… or that they have one at all? Or that it MAY be in someone else’s face! So it reminds me of something like a chicken wing, just flappin’ around wherever.


I experienced this one for the first time last week. It’s early on a Tuesday morning on a packed train, and I’m sitting in my seat (totally minding my own business) maybe falling asleep every few minutes… when I open my eyes and just a meer 4 inches away from my noise is some mans hairy elbow! Like it’s RIGHT THERE! And shift of my head, his body, or the train will send it smack right in my face! What got me was that the whole trip, he never seemed to notice how close his arm was to me or that I couldn’t move. This could have been remedied if he chose to pull his arm closer to himself, hold the bar a little higher, or angle himself another direction. As it was, I get this great picture and stayed awake the rest of the trip!


At Crotch Level

Definition: I think the name really says it all.


These are the people who stand right in front of your seat (if you are sitting) and don’t bother to angle their bodies or hold on the to bar with one hand and turn sideways… NO, they stand square in front of you and we… if you are sitting your eyes usually fall right at crotch level. Then of course, as the train rocks and rolls down the tracks, they may swing closer or further from your face. Mostly it’s just awkward and uncomfortable. I understand, you have to stand, I’ve been there. It’s totally cool (but I’m glad to be sitting) just, like, I don’t want to be looking there for the next hour of my commute!



The Screamers… and all those Loud Talkers

Definition: People who treat the train car like their own personal living room. They talk, fight, laugh (cackle), scream, cry… or don’t stop their bratty children from screaming and crying… and don’t for one moment seem to care if it’s bothering every single other person stuck on the train with them.

I have had to look away or close my eyes and restrain myself from glaring at so many people, or worse- from saying anything. Especially mothers with screaming children who act like it’s totally fine that their child is crying at the top of it’s lungs and make no effort to silence them. This is about as bad as the adults who carry on for the whole world to hear. Don’t you care about your privacy at all? I mean, even if you don’t… just shut up! Or use your indoor voices! It’s not that hard and it makes the whole time on the train so much better for everyone.

These are some of my favorites… that are funny, worthy of a definition, and that I can get a pretty good picture of. The list of annoying, frustrating, and unique things on the trains also include, but is not limited too: the incredibly smelly, the drunk, the good the bad and the ugly musicians, the dancers (yes, like the kids who blast music and take up the whole isle to dance and usually hit someone in the face), the starers, and the napping (those lovely people who fall asleep and tip onto their neighboring passenger).

There is always something interesting

What have you encountered on a NYC train?  Anything fun that you’d like to share, please comment!  As always- follow, share, like, comment, etc!  And check out the Official Instagram for the blog @runlivelove_blog



5 Reasons to Have a Travel Buddy

My dearest friend Savannah recently posted a piece on the amazing perks and benefits of traveling solo.  Read it here and check out her entire blog while you are at it!

While I am fully on the same page, solo travel looks like it can be amazing, I thought why not take a few minutes to write a counter piece to hers?  Just for blogger fun and to show case another side of traveling.

My amazing roommate (and great friend) Megan and I have been taking to the skies quite a bit in the past few months.  While she has traveled solo, I have yet to leave the country on my own- one thing at a time!  Between our 10 day trip to Bali and our quick but exciting weekend excursion to Scotland, we have come across a lot of good reasons to travel with a trusted travel buddy.

1. Double check that packing list::  Traveling with someone means you both have a build in bag checker.  Are you notorious for overpacking?  Always forgetting the basics?  When you are packing for a trip with someone else you have the amazing added benefit of a second set of eyes that can go over and through what you packed and make sure you have all the basics (socks?  toothbrush?) and your are not over doing it (for a 3 day trip do you really need 5 pairs of pants?).

Knowing you have what you need makes every trip that much less stressful!

2.  Personal photographers::  As much fun as it is to take selfies at every scenic spot, or never be in your own pictures, or walk up to other travelers and ask then to take a picture of you… when you have a travel buddy, you can take turns getting just the right shot of each other.  You both have build in photographers!  Today so much of our lives are wrapped up in social media, how could you live if you didn’t post just the right shot on Instagram?


3.  Try new things::  As Savannah mentions in her post, when you are traveling solo there is no need to compromise on places you want to go, things you want to eat, mountains you want to hike, or scenes you want to see.  But on the other hand, when you travel with someone you can push each other to see new sights and try new things.  The borders of your comfort zone may be shifted a little, but usually it’s for the best and you may get a chance to explore something totally new that you never though of!  When we were in Bali, I may never have thought of taking a cooking class or swinging into a waterfall, but I did (thanks of Megan) and those may have been some of the highlights of the trip!

4.  Watching your back::   Safety in numbers.  And if you are traveling in a pair or group you are not alone.  Personally I have yet to have any sort of situation, but I feel more comfortable knowing I have someone who knows where I am and should I not come home, get hurt, or act to strange… it’s good to know someone should notice and take action.  Traveling with a buddy you also have someone to watch your bags when you stop to use the restroom or step into a fitting room.

5.  Second opinions::  “Now do you really need that shirt?  It’s like the other 2 you got yesterday…”  Yes, traveling with someone means you have someone to run decisions by.  Should we spend the day at another temple?  Do you need that shirt?  Maybe we should eat someplace else?  You have someone to bounce ideas off of and continue to push your boundaries a little.

Having a travel partner also means you can split checks, take turns thinking of plans and making arrangements, split the responsibilities of trip planning in general!

Megan and I have started taking turns picking our next travel destinations and that’s great too, cause I wouldn’t think of doing 10 days in Spain & Portugal (2018…?) and maybe she wouldn’t have thought of Bali, but we are sure glad we went!

OK, so your thoughts?  Travel solo, travel with a buddy?  Share your experiences and let’s see where we end up next!