Episode 12


“Hey Siri, what’s the weather?”

“..It’s 60 degrees in NY right now.”


Well time for the turtle neck to come out.

7:00 SIM22

I never had to walk to the back of the bus before, but a lady moved to another row and left two empty chairs for me. Gracias!

Halfway down the turnpike I realized why she had left. The couple in the row before me didn’t shut the hell up the whole ride! My Netflix show couldn’t even drown them out.

I took the train because my feet were still crying from last week. I did 10,000+ steps on Friday alone.

Song of the Day: Swizz Beatz’ “Money in the Bank”

His album drops November 2nd. But this song is still fire! 🔥

Work update: I completed my 1st draft of my second write-up 😝 and feel pretty excited about it.

Sometime after 6:00 🕕

I was about to get off the bus once I saw there were no seats but we started moving. I finally found a window seat in the back and got so mad that the guy didn’t follow the rules. He didn’t move in, but he did get up so I could sit by the window. Thankfully I got there first – some lady couldn’t find a seat either. What a struggle!

I spent the ride home watching season 1, episode 9 of House of Cards.

Other people were playing some old games on their phones: Candy Crush – is that still a thing? – and one girl was catching a Pokémon on the bus!

I wanted to cheer her on so bad, but that game was so last year. I’m not making fun of her at all – I used to be one of those Pokémon trainers in the streets trying to catch em all!


We got the front row on the bus! My mom came to the city again today.

At the last stop, some guy got on to check the occupancy. I wanted to scream out: “Get us more SIM22’s!” But it was too early to yell and besides, they need more for the trip home.

Sometime around noon 🕛

The elevators were zooming by. I ran to slap the button and heard it come to a rushed pause. I couldn’t stop laughing, picturing the people inside all flying to the ceiling with the abrupt stop at my floor. Luckily no one was in the elevator.

Juggling update: I am learning to juggle 2 balls and 1 pin at the same time.

Sometime after 5:30 🕠

Before we got on the bus, we stopped at that bakery again. I didn’t know it was The Cake Boss’ bakery. My mom wanted to try the carrot cake I raved about.

Then the bus finally arrived and there were no seats. We found out too late and had to stand. I saw a seat in the back, but the lady didn’t move over, so I maneuvered in the aisle to get my mom past me so she could sit. I stood, others stood, and 15 minutes into the ride, I gave up. I sat on the floor in the aisle.





I decided to walk to the transit center since I’ve been taking the train to work and skipping out on those much needed steps.

It’s a nice walk, but I need thicker socks!

I was the first on line for the bus and sat down in the glass shack (you know – the glass box that they usually have at most bus stops; It’s like a tiny house with a bench inside.)

The others showed up minutes before the bus came.

It’s funny how I grill people for not going to the end of the line, even if the bus stop has multiple routes. I think about how they’re dressed and assume they’re going to the city, then wonder why they aren’t getting on the line. But if they’re dressed down or if it’s a kid, I know they’re going on the regular city bus. I know, I know, it’s not nice to judge, but I can’t stand line cutters and I’m getting pretty good at figuring it all out.

Well, some guy showed up a minute before the SIM22 rolled by and I immediately scanned his wardrobe, looking for clues as to what bus he was waiting for.

The SIM22 peeked around the curb and I jumped up so the others – including him – could acknowledge my status on the line.

He also moved toward the curb. 🤔

I thought to myself – he has to let us go up the stairs first. But he didn’t and I couldn’t believe what was happening. I felt like I had to tap his shoulder and point to the ten people behind me, like they were all expecting a hero, and I had let them down. I just mumbled – there’s a whole line – And got on the bus.

Somehow, my phone didn’t charge overnight so I was forced to plug the charger in, instead of my headphones. Apple problems – I don’t like using my wireless Beats in Manhattan so I use the pluggable ones that came with my iPhone X.

Without my podcast app, I was forced to get lost in my surroundings: the guy to my right was looking at a map of America, the guy to my left was playing Wii U, and the bus started making awful sounds like a bunch of metal poles vibrating in a sink in the midst of a cicada outbreak.

I put my headphones on and gave up on charging my phone.

Welcome to Times Square!

Work update: I finished my final draft of my first write-up, still waiting on a review of my second package and started a new project.

I juggled at lunch after nearly getting lost in Macy’s. I had no idea Macy’s took up the entire block! I wanted comfortable work boots and kept getting stuck in the boujee shoe sections. They had high end designers within the shoe department and all I wanted was the normal shoe section – for real people – with real bank accounts.

I ended up at Rainbow down the block and got comfy black boots for $20!

Since I walked to the bus depot this morning, I decided to take the SIM6 home. I walked what felt like 100 blocks to get to Lexington & E34th. There were like two seats left. Some privileged chick had her shopping bags on the seat next to her, so instead of starting a problem, I sat next to a woman who didn’t seem to want a neighbor. The seat rocked back and forth with every abrupt stop the driver made and the six rows dedicated to wheelchairs, all shook and ejected passengers the entire ride.

The girl in front of me screamed out and broke the somewhat quiet bus. Everyone else got scared and the girl apologized over and over. We all started laughing. She tried to bring her chair upright but the bus stopped at the same time, causing her chair to quickly recline further back than she was used to.

I absolutely hate this bus! Never again! All because I wanted to be dropped off closer to home. I’ll just walk up to Times Square tomorrow.

I don’t understand how the metro card machine doesn’t calculate seat count. If I went to a movie theater and tried to buy tickets, the cashier would say, “Sold Out!”

So when I swipe my metro, why doesn’t it “buy my seat” and mark it sold? That way when someone asks the driver if there are there anymore seats, the driver can give an educated answer other than a shoulder shrug!

Two women are standing and I feel their pain. One thing I can appreciate is the guy who ended up making the chick move her shopping bags. He even asked if one of the standing women wanted to sit. Kudos, man.

The privileged chick shut their air vents, but he said he was hot. I wanted to laugh so bad. You can’t touch someone else’s air vent.

This bus is so different. Now she’s talking on the phone. You’re supposed to be quiet. This is wind-down time.

As people got off at their stops, I moved to the front row. I just about had enough of the rocking chair I was sitting in. I complained to the driver about the metro card reader not counting the seats and he laughed and said there’s more changes coming in January. He doubted they would do anything about seat counts, but the routes will be altered yet again. 😮 Just when I got used to my commute!


Oh and somehow, my nail fell off somewhere in Midtown.


👀 I think it’s time for a coat. I had asked my dad if he wanted to contribute to my winter coat fund. He said “Sure, I’ll get the hood!” 🤦‍♀️ He thinks he’s hilarious.

The driver from Friday is back – you know – the whistling, “good morning” driver who waited for late people at the last stop.

The bus checker wasn’t there today, he must be handling official bus duty at the Capitol.

A man hesitantly put his metro through while stretching his neck over the others but the good morning driver reassured him, “there’s seats.”

I was so tempted to ask how he knew that but there’s a sign not to talk to the driver.

I sat back and listened to 2 Dope Chicks while the sun came up.

I finally asked the driver about seat count once we left the tunnel and he said he keeps his own count. I congratulated him for being a team player.

So the wind nearly took me back to Staten Island – I had just loosened my scarf and came close to getting side-swiped by a pigeon! It was a close call.

I made new friends at lunch. Some guy in a suit was walking down the stairs on his hands. He was with my usual juggle group and I asked if I could tape him for my blog. He was super chill about it. I had no clue how big juggling really is – they invited me to join their juggle group on Facebook and share my blog with their community. 🤹‍♀️


Someone almost tried to cut the line and I was the first person at the stop, so I wasn’t having that! The lady after me said she thinks we’ve been cut, and she gave me the squinted-shifty eyes. Naturally, I looked at the new girl in the glass hut and turned my body toward the direction of the bus. But my line-mate didn’t pay attention and the cutter got on the bus after me. 🤦‍♀️

My window seat allowed me to shrink inside my hood and pass out. 42nd St popped up out of no where! All I wanted was breakfast. The self service kiosks were out of order so I was forced to speak to a cashier:

Me – “Can I get a sausage biscuit?

Guy – “Do you want the meal?”

Me – “No, and an order of pancakes.”

Guy – “….”

He had confusion all over his face. I didn’t know how I could’ve offended or confused him.

Him – “you mean hot cakes?”

Me – “Yeah, pancakes.”

Really? You can’t call hot cakes, pancakes? What planet is this?

Work update: I submitted my first complete deal!!!!! I told you it was a lengthy process – a lot of back and forth.

For lunch I got a happy meal and it came with Hello Kitty glasses!

My squad still doesn’t understand how they sold me one.

After work we celebrated another week and the squad had a few happy hour mystery beers.

Outside on 8th Ave, they had giveaways!

I made it to my bus on time, got my own row and basically got prepped for the nap of my life!

Check back for more SamWriteNow & the City!

Goodbye, S

I said goodbye to my friend a few days ago. Not just my friend, my long-distance best friend. The type of friend who would be gone for months but once they’re back, it’s like no time had passed.

Let’s be real here, no one likes to say goodbye.

Let’s go back to the last time I saw her–let’s just call her S to keep it simple.

I think I had made it perfectly clear over the past few months just how infatuated I was with S. I even confessed my love of S to my boyfriend, Mr Carter.

Jealousy wasn’t an issue, not to my knowledge anyway.

When S comes to town, my world stops. And I can’t help but be dramatic when I talk about her.

Mr Carter took me on a trip to celebrate S.

See? No jealousy at all.

Honestly, it was the first time I had really seen S this year. To say I was excited would be completely underrated–I was like Sonic the Hedgehog after someone pressed the <down> and <A> buttons a few times.

Road trip with Mr Carter
Driving to Crystal Springs Water Park, NJ

We made it to the water park in record time for Labor Day. I guess I felt the world would be as excited as I was, how silly right?

The line seemed more congested than the entire NJ Turnpike had been that day. I had a mission, I didn’t get frustrated.

I waited, patiently.

The time had come. It was going to be an epic moment. I stuffed our shoes in the locker and we were off.

Finally. I inhaled the warm sun and exhaled the past months of endless studying, and stressing over accounting tests. I mean, damn, S was finally before me.

The day was perfect. Me, my man, and my best friend who would be leaving shortly.

We swam, we ate, we laughed, we had the time of our lives. Until I heard that awful announcement:

“Attention all Crystal Springs guests–the time is now, 6:30. The park will be closing at 7:00 for the last time of the year.”

By this time, we were floating along the lazy river. We had gotten lost in the endless twists and turns. I watched as the workers deflated the plastic rings and couldn’t help but cry. I didn’t expect the day to end so suddenly. Luckily the water was there to catch my tears.

It was over.

We left the park.

We left S.

I kept the key to the locker as a souvenir of my best friend. I will miss you, Summer. It’s always a beautiful time when you come visit.

Until next time,

SamWriteNow & Mr Carter



This world is too beautiful to sit back and not look.

I try to enjoy the world I live in as best I can. From the colorful sunsets, to the rhythmic ocean waves, this world is beautiful. The ocean has always been a safe place for me to feel my best and I try to go to the beach as much as I possibly can. There’s something about the breeze, swirling the smell of sun-tan lotion and sea-salt around while the water sways back and forth, back and forth, in a rhythm that can never be duplicated. It’s perfect.

The stars have always fascinated me, all spread out across the sky like glistening lights. And when the moon sits close enough to nearly grab, I get such a rush of emotions. Yeah, I’m sensitive to nature and energies, I am a Cancer. It’s not a bad thing. I guess I just love the feeling of having a place of my own, while I share this huge world with way too many people. When I look up to the sky or out across the ocean, I am lost within something so vast, but at the same time I feel safe. It’s magical.

Introduce and re-introduce yourself to the beautiful world that surrounds you.

50 Shades of Tangled Hair

I haven’t been feeling like my bubbly self lately. I changed a lot over the past year–many ends, and even more beginnings. Life has a funny way of working out though, even when I thought I was being completely taken over, much like the dark roots that ruin my dye job every month. I still find this past year to be an over-tangled string of wires, connecting every major moment and challenge in a swift electric current. It’s not regretful at all, but interesting in how everything in life is connected. And why does hair color matter so much? Every shade is connected with an emotion and a state of being which is basically how personalities are created. Trust me, I know all about 50 shades of hair.

I took a completely new direction and started selling furniture and mattresses back in February. Imagine that, an English graduate with a minor in business, a passion for writing and an intense background in banking spending over eight months explaining the difference between microfiber and chenille fabric. I was good at it, just like anything else I grew an interest in, but it wasn’t enough. It just wasn’t for me.

In my exciting new job where I met my cosmic sister, I also added some weird facts to my vocabulary: Do you know we spend 1/3 of our lives in bed? Oh, and for all of you back sleepers, try keeping your shoulders on your pillow at night. You can thank me later!

I started to give up on that commissioned atmosphere and applied back to my old bank, hoping they would believe in me the way they had from 2008 to 2014. They did. I made the switch and landed where I felt most comfortable. But, before I jumped from commish to salary, I met someone. I didn’t know what to expect, but he turned out to be the biggest purpose for my smile these past four months. I hope he knows it.

I picked up where I left off at the bank with one issue: my hair. After being a blonde for roughly three years, I made a mistake and stained my hair blue and green.


Side note: it doesn’t wash out…or bleach out for that matter.

I was so happy to be back where I belonged that I had forgotten about the sea foam shades protruding out from my ponytail. After many trips to Sally’s, visits to the hairdresser, and stress over having green hair on my interview, I had finally reached a slightly muddy-grayish-brown that was good enough for meeting with my old boss.


The only thing was, I felt like total poop, pun intended!

I got the job but had to fix the disgusting dye job. I dabbled with every shade of color imaginable and it pissed me off that I wasn’t blonde anymore. There I was, in my new/old position with my “soccer mom shag.” And the more I complained or hinted at going back to blonde, the more horrifying “bleaching bald” stories surrounded me. I hate starting a new job without a new look or even a slightly refreshing adjustment, and this murky nest was killing my vibe.

Plus, I felt like I wasn’t who I was anymore. Does that make any sense? All I knew of myself for the past three years was the confident, blonde writer with a bomb-ass personality. I needed that back. I was drowning in the oil spill that leaked over my head.

Somehow, I figured going red would help while I kept my hair from falling out. (I had to wait for the courage to pour bleach on my head again.)


The red did cancel out most of those blue-green tones which wasn’t exactly working with my muddy canvas. And the red lasted, but my patience grew extra-thin. I still wasn’t myself. I was a replica, like the Holographic Pokemon card that I needed so bad until I held it to the light and saw the pokeball on the other side.

Between the many chapters of my hair chronicles, I had my happiness feuled by a man who gave me a feeling of importance like no other. I still can’t imagine what today would look like if I didn’t work that day at the furniture store. It was like I was supposed to be there in that spot at that moment for everything to take place. If I had stepped out for a cigarette or had taken my Wendy’s lunch-run, I wouldn’t be here, having learned so much about myself through someone I truly admire.

*I thank you*

Still adamant about getting back to my ash blonde life, I hijacked my mom’s weeknights and asked her to bleach my head a couple of times. Together we crossed our fingers, mixed the powder bleach and hoped for the best.

Round one went smoothly, but it took about five or six more attempts to conquer the brassy-orange that sat up near my roots. All I kept thinking was how blonde I had wanted to be, and I sat there reminiscing over the good old days of being platinum and how I took those moments for granted. Kind of like when I’m super broke and start contemplating the hundreds of dollars spent on nuggets. I processed my hair back-to-back, looked at old Instagram pics and suffered through the weird pink hues in my bangs.


I did it again. And again.

I’m blonde.


It’s been a little over a week now and I can finally exhale. I know it sounds silly and pointless to some, but it isn’t fun to feel mismatched between your insides and outsides.

I hope this is the finishing touch I needed in order to prep me for 2018.

I hope I can finally get back to feeling like myself.

But mostly I hope he is reading this and understands that he was supposed to meet me when he did. While we both were in a position of endings and beginnings, it all had to happen to bring us to this point right now. Like I said before, I have no regrets in life, because every instance makes room for something else. Life is funny that way.