So, I have toyed with some blogging here and there throughout my 27 years. I have often been told that the things that happen to me on a daily basis need to be written about because “they’d make a good sitcom.” But, after blogging for a couple of months I started to become a little too aware of what a tornado I really was, and decided to stop writing out of sheer self pity.
Recently however, my adventures have become too much fun not to write about so I have decided it was time to start again. Let me start by telling you a little bit about me and where my Gypsy adventures began.
My name is Jessica and I am a Brooklyn girl, born and raised in a large and sometimes freakishly close Italian/British family (trust me knowing I am part British will make sense in later blogs).
I have a younger sister who is by all meanings of the word- my hero.
Two parents who have given me everything humanly possible , without actually taking off their own limbs.
I’ve got a million aunts, uncles and cousins, and “cousins” who are friends of the family- but we are Italian, so everyone is family. And, a circle of friends that I can honestly say, are some of the best people you could ever have the honor of meeting.
So, you may ask yourself- what’s with the gypsy stuff? Welp, it goes like this…. A little less than a year ago, my parents were offered a substantial amount of money if we moved out of our home, which happens to be smack in the middle of an up-and-coming Jewish neighborhood. While my parents had been looking to sell our house eventually and move to our summer home in Connecticut, the 2 month deadline to up and leave the house I grew up in was a bit of a whirlwind. I will save you the long story and sum it up briefly for you in a short timeline.
It went something like this:
Ignoring of the boxes that were frantically being packed by my parents
Fighting about nonsense that had nothing to do with moving, but everything to do with moving.
Apartment hunting with my BF at the time.
Parents moving out so my mother could start new job she found in CT.
Total loss of control by me and my sister in having the house to ourselves.
Brief moments of sadness as the reality crept in.
Breaking up with my BF at the time.
Lots of partying.
Me and 4 of my closest girlfriends packing up my entire life in 121 sad brown boxes all in a small window of 48 hours. Because, I had to be out by Monday and all of my denial did not change the fact that- we were moving,
Now, my whole life is here in New York: My job, my friends, my gym, my nail salon, etc. And CT, while it is only an hour and a half away, is just not my cup of tea. “So why don’t you just get a place Jess?” Yea well that’s the end goal, but right now there are a couple of factors in my life stopping me from doing that.
1- Money- living in NY is freakin expensive. I mean yes I could swing the rent, but it would be tight. Which leads us to problem #2
2- I love to travel. I love to see things near or far, weekend trips, 4 day escapes, 2 week excursions. If i got a place, my traveling would be severely affected.
3- I am not the biggest fan of the thought of living alone. I watch way too many Law and Order and CSI NY episodes. I don’t like the idea of having no one to notice that i didn’t make it home that night, or to give me the Heimlich when I am choking on my dinner, or to call the ambulance when I fall in the shower (it happens more than I like to admit).
4- I am NEVER home, even when I lived in Brooklyn. I am a busy body, always out, always having 4 jobs, always doing something. I feel no need to pay over a grand a month for somewhere to store my things. I can rent a locker for half that.
Thus, a Gypsy was born