Uptown Moxie


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Money Diary: a week in the life of Funemployment

A new friend and I were recently bonding over our obsession with Refinery29’s Money Diary series, which chronicles the a week in the life of different people with various jobs on a specified salary. It’s an slice of life view on spending habits from a variety of budgets (or lack thereof).

As I’m currently living the #funemployed life (in Chicago – remember, I moved!), I thought it could be a fun (and completely terrifying) way to give a little more insight (than I usually like to give on a public domain) about how I’ve been spending my time money here so far. Keep in mind, Chicago summers are allegedly the most fun season in the city/it’s a brand new place for me/this includes a holiday/any other disclaimers that I should be naming to give me a little break of the judgement I feel forthcoming. Cool? Cool. So – here’s a week in the life, according to my bank account. (Also, I rounded. Sue me.)

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Monday:

This happened to be a Monday which was also the fourth of July. Being new to the city, I justified spending a little more than I should have would have normally on a Groupon for unlimited food and beverages on a rooftop overlooking a Cubs game with new friends. No regrets. – $69

And then there were further post-game drinks. Mild regrets. – $12

 

Tuesday:

Real talk: I woke up considering placing a $25 Postmates order for McDonalds breakfast (the delivery would have been $8 so I had to make it worth it), but my roommate was kind enough to bring me an Egg McMuffin meal on her way back to the apartment in the morning. – $6 (which I still owe her)

I finally called one of the companies I have student loans with and paid an upfront forbearance fee to postpone payments for a few months while I work out this I-have-no-income situation. – $50

Met up with new friends for dinner and a drink at an (obviously) new-to-me seafood joint in our neighborhood.-  $35

 

Wednesday:

Ate all meals at home and no money was spent, much to my bank account’s delight. – $0

 

Thursday:

I traveled downtown for a networking coffee meet-up. I bought both of our drinks and it cost probably half of what it would have been in New York. Minor win. – $6

 

Friday

Our wifi at the apartment went out, and since this week wasn’t as productive as I would have liked on the job-hunt scene, I planted myself at a coffee shop for three hours, slowly sipped at an iced Americano and applied to jobs like it was no one’s business. – $5

After the coffee-shop, I hauled myself over to a grocery store and purchased groceries and other necessary items for the next two weeks. (Can we all say a quick prayer for these groceries to last two weeks? After all, a self-actualized grocery addict is still an addict.) – $70

 

Saturday

A large iced coffee from Dunkin was necessary in the late morning/early afternoon, as the following activity required some brainpower. – $1

A few months ago, a friend purchased a Groupon for a group of four’s admission into PanIQ room – which is a live escape game where your teammates have an hour to solve puzzles where the ultimate idea is to escape the room. Ours happened to be mob themed, and it was absolutely a blast. – $0, as it was c/o a friend

After we escaped the room (we escaped!), we deemed celebratory margaritas and insanely delicious nachos were in order. – $35

A few drinks later, we decided to walk up from West Loop to River North, where a friend of a friend was with was hosting a wine & snacks night at her apartment. I picked up a bottle of red (I don’t drink white) on the way. – $10

The night ended at a River North club with a glass of water because #fiscallyresponsible, or at least, I’m trying. A friend and I split an Uber home. I told her to split it with me but she didn’t. – $0

 

Sunday

This afternoon was spent checking out the Lincoln Park Zoo and a nearby rooftop with a killer view the park, lake and skyline. The zoo was free and I was treated to the post-zoo snacks. – $0

After receiving a notification that my Ventra card funds were low, I reloaded some money onto it for transportation home and hopefully covering the next week or two. – $20

 

Weekly total: $319

Verdict: Man am I enjoying Chicago.


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The one where I leave NYC

Two weeks ago, I formalized my decision. Tonight, I lie in a king bed in Ohio, with everything I’ve accumulated over the past 5 years crammed ever-most strategically inside an SUV in my parents’ garage. Next stop: Chicago.

Ever since the news started to get around, I’ve encountered a lot of “I’m so sorry New York didn’t work out” and “I really hope you don’t think of yourself as a failure.” It may not be necessary to defend my reactions of “I’m not” and “I don’t,” but just so we are all on the same page…

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I didn’t decide I was done with New York when I got a staph infection from lifting weights at the cheapest, most convenient gym in my neighborhood. When I medicated myself with an expired antibiotic I was prescribed over a year prior, because my contractor insurance was terrible and I couldn’t afford a real doctor or for that matter, a real diagnosis.

I didn’t decide I was done with New York when a week after the staph infection, I contracted the worst illness I’ve had since living on my own. When a stomach virus shut my body down for an entire week — extracting every remnant of liquid or solid in my digestion system, as if my body only wanted to operate on gases from there on out. When I dropped a repulsive amount of money to see a shitty doctor in my shitty neighborhood, who only agreed to see me, three hours after I checked into the urgent care, because I cried and threatened that if I didn’t drink something soon I was going to pass out, and if I did drink something soon, my bodily fluids would rapidly exit my body all over their waiting room floor. When after receiving a shot, being locked in a room to nap and regain strength for 30 minutes, and finally getting a half-full bathroom-sized miniature glasses of water, the nurse asked for what seemed like the millionth time “are you SURE you don’t have ANYONE who could pick you up?” (Those urgent care nurses sure knew how to make a single lady in an inconvenient neighborhood feel good after 14 hours of nonstop puking.)

I didn’t decide I was done with New York when a week after the stomach virus, I was punched in the back of the head by a complete stranger at the Port Authority subway stop. When I was followed by a man, and hit so hard that I blacked out. When I was asked to watch the attack several times later on security cameras, and then spent the next 5 hours of that evening reliving the event to several police offers, medics, and ER doctors. When the next morning, unable to move my neck, I still went into work on time.

I didn’t decide I was done with New York when I found out my boss was quitting, thus causing formal staffing of contract workers (aka me) in our department to be frozen.

I didn’t decide I was done with New York when we experienced a second bed bug scare.

I didn’t decide I was done with New York when the bills from my assault incident started to accrue.

I decided I was done with New York much earlier. When right after I came back to the city after spending time in Ohio for the holidays, a point when I’m usually very ready to get back to the NYC grind, I was en route to meeting up with a friend for dinner and almost got mauled by a biker. When my subconscious reaction to an fast-paced oncoming bike was, “let him run you over.” I laughed it off that night, but that was the moment when I realized I was mentally checked out of the city’s rat race. At that point, I loved my job, but I knew it would be ending. I had freshly given up on a “will they or won’t they” relationship I had been flirting with for four years, and the city was at the onset of the coldest season of social hibernation. I didn’t want to be there, and something inside me knew the feeling wasn’t temporary this time. I had more bike encounters over the next few months, and my knee-jerk reaction never changed. “Don’t. Move. Let it happen.”

After that, the city seemed to pepper me with little gifts of hell on the reg. I admire New York so much, but I’ve always known that if you let it, it’ll drag you down until you are living with the sewer rats. At both at my four and four and a half year marks in NYC, I said I truly didn’t think I’d make it to five. And here I am, lying in my Ohio bed, with exactly two months until I would have reached that milestone.

Realizing your environment changed from a place that drives and inspires you to one you resent is a tough pill to swallow. For me, New York became a place where I felt myself becoming more impatient and insecure each day. Walk faster. Work longer. Trust less. Dress better. Speak louder. Love harder. Grit is at the core of New York City. It’s beautiful and powerful, but tough to settle into.

Leaving was something I wrestled with time and time again: at the onset of every new job, each time a childhood friend in the Midwest got engaged or married, all the times I second-guessed the cashier at my local grocery store when asked to pay $45 for eggs, hot sauce, cheese and kale (the staples). But I always knew the timing would be right when I felt simultaneously okay with never living in New York again, but also open to the idea that life could bring me back in two or five years, when I’m further into my career and making more money. I didn’t openly cry on public transportation about leaving a single time, but I already have a running list of things I know I’ll miss. Some highlights:

  • Weekly volunteering at The Covenant House with the NYJL
  • Spending weekends being the epitome of lazy in Central Park
  • Excessive Blockheads dinners with Michaela
  • Nightly kitchen chats with Jess (and more recently, Carson)
  • Days spend exploring the Hudson Valley with Jon and Josh
  • Third-wheeling with Mike and Nicole (and more recently, Paige)
  • Nordstrom Rack trips with Mandy
  • Brunching with Joel
  • Shows at UCB
  • Elevator rides with Jimmy Fallon, Willie Geist, et al.
  • Running and biking down Riverside Drive
  • Cheap Broadway tickets
  • Rooftop parties and bars
  • Free access to the city’s museums

I am not sorry “New York didn’t work out,” and I do not think of myself as a “failure.” Quite the opposite. In the past five years: I’ve worked in five jobs at eight locations in three different industries; I’ve moved five times into three apartments with thirteen different roommates; I’ve encountered almost every kind of rodent, coworker, and breakfast cocktail I can think of. My tolerance for crazy has been blown out of the water, along with any type of personal or professional expectation I’ve ever had. New York came through for me time and time again; I realize and acknowledge that. I had the lucky opportunity to live in the city I fantasized about since I was in 7th grade, work for the company of my dreams, and expand my network tenfold with creative, inspiring people who are thought-leaders in their respective industries — and even made a handful of them my best friends.

It’s really challenging to start over in your comfort zone, and even as tough and bizarre as New York City is, it became just that. I know how to survive there, but I no longer want to. Just as buying that one-way ticket to LGA five Augusts ago felt so right to me then, making the decision to bunk up with a college friend in a new-to-me city much closer to home feels right to me now.

I don’t know what this next city will have in store, but taking a risk and starting a new adventure isn’t something that intimidates me any more. New York has been my greatest love/hate relationship, and maybe it always will be. And while I am happy to be moving on, I don’t regret a thing. NYC: until we meet again, thanks for the memories, lylas and never change (even though you will, and probably already have).

Chicago, you’ve got some big Birkenstocks to fill.


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Decisions, Decisions

Let’s start by saying “good decision-maker” is something you won’t see listed under the Skills section of my resume any time soon — partly because it’s neither a professional trait nor grammatically advanced enough phrase to use on such a document, but mostly because I’m terrible at it.

In high school, my best friend and I would drive around town for hours on end unable to make a simple choice about where we wanted to eat dinner. A handful of times, I’m pretty sure it ended with her dropping me off at home, an empty stomach intact.

I’ve twice let “signs” from the universe take the wheel at pivotal points in my life.

Once, I had just made the 7th grade cheerleading squad and needed to decide if I wanted to continue dancing in a company where I had been taking lessons since I was three years old, or if I wanted to spend my extra-curricular time at school, chanting and cheering for boys playing sports. For a reason I can no longer fully remember, I wasn’t able to commit to both. Maybe cheer camp conflicted with an important week at the studio? Doesn’t matter. I thought and I over-analyzed and my mom spent hours on the phone with my dance teacher and cheer coach trying to mediate a situation where there simply wasn’t a workaround. So what was a distraught 12-year-old to do? As the young, proud Catholic girl I was, I locked myself in my bedroom, prayed for a sign, and turned on my radio. The song that was playing? Lee Ann Womack’s one hit wonder, “I Hope You Dance.” No shit.

The other time was a more recent account I tell fairly often — my moving to New York story. Spoiler alert: you know how it ends. I had been obsessed with New York City for as long as I can remember; I wanted to move here long before I ever visited. I met one of my best college friends working at a coffee shop my sophomore year. We clicked almost immediately, and upon learning our New York fantasies aligned, we planned to be NYC roommates from the get go. I used my senior year spring break to network in the city, meeting with college alumni who worked in fashion, media, and most interesting to me, at NBC, and Ashley spent hers falling in love with a successful man who lived in Los Angeles. We reunited working our first shift together after the break from school, and discussions slowly started to drift westward. The next few months consisted of much deliberation, more reruns of The OC than anyone should watch in their lifetime, and eventually ended with me accepting a job working at my friend’s boyfriend’s LA company upon graduation. Summer began, and a few months passed without much progress. I hadn’t received an official contract or offer letter, we hadn’t secured an apartment, and I was without pay since leaving my coffee shop gig when school let out. So one day, I sent another request up to the gods. As the young twenty-something Catholic school graduate I was, I said “today, I need a sign.” That day, an apartment application in Los Angeles went through — something called “accepted with conditions” where apparently all that was required for our very first apartment was an increased security deposit. “This must be the sign,” I thought. Later that evening, after a family birthday party, a long run and a large glass of wine, I received a phone call from a childhood friend who had recently moved to New York. She just left a dance show, thought of me, and oh yeah, since she knew my feelings about LA were up in the air, she finally received the okay from a friend that she could offer me an open room in Harlem for $400 a month. I bought a one way flight to LaGuardia the next day.

“You can’t fight fate,” Zach, a tertiary character in The OC said in season two. In each circumstance, I asked for a sign, and I received one. My choices to continue dancing and move to New York City, arguably two of the most important parts of my life to date, were both made solely on my inability to make a decision. Or were they?

I was obsessed with New York City — of course I was going to find a way to justify moving here. Los Angeles was scary and hot and three timezones away. I’d like to believe I gave it a fighting chance, but at the time, it just wasn’t meant to be.

If I chose cheerleading, I would have been giving up on nine years of dance lessons at the most prestigious school in my hometown. A lot of money had been spent by my parents, and I would have lost my spot in a company I had worked extremely hard to earn. Granted, there was never a song entitled “I Hope You Cheer,” but I’d like to think, even if the radio had been playing “Mickey” at the moment I turned it on (Bring it On reference), I would have made my way to the dance decision regardless.

I could have easily taken the fact my apartment application was accepted as a sign that I should move to LA. I also could have easily taken the fact that I moved forward with cheerleading tryouts after I knew I was a shoe-in for a Junior Company spot as a sign that I should have been a cheerleader. But in life, I think we make subconscious decisions every day. We exercise the ability to talk ourselves in and out of situations on the reg. I had a glass of wine at happy hour, so now I can’t workout tonight. I told my friend I’d go to a party where I knew my ex would be, I guess I’ll show up…in the short skirt. I took a contract job knowing the possibility of using its end as my NYC out. You get the idea.

“Life is a chain of decisions,” Mandy, a tertiary character in New York City once said in season five. I simultaneously do and don’t know what’s next. In case you haven’t acquainted with my skin and/or liver in the recent months, there’s a lot up in the air right now. Making decisions is by nature a scary business, but I’m hopeful what’s meant to be will be. And as the late twenty-something distanced Catholic girl I am, I welcome prayers and positive vibes more than ever.


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Where Everybody Knows your Name

A week ago, my friend and I traveled to Boston for a quick weekend getaway. Neither of us being native New Englanders, we had never visited before and were eager to knock the city off of our bucket lists before the real tourist season starts (it apparently ramps up in May). I tried my hand at airbnb-ing for the first time, sipped beers at the bar my favorite TV show is based on, and channeled my Elle Woods alter ego for a few days. As it always goes for me, it was great to spend a few days in a city less chaotic than NYC, and I especially loved the charm of Cambridge. From Harvard to Fenway, I found Boston delightful and would certainly love to visit again someday – especially as it’s only a four-hour bus trip (or super fast plane ride, if you’re the non-poor type) away. Here’s a few pictorial highlights of our visit:


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Currently: a Monday evening perspective

HI THERE, HOW ARE THINGS? Life lately = yeeesh. It’s been a while since I’ve done one of these (or one of anything on here) so let’s touch base. Regroup. Circle back. Er, I mean catch up. It’s only Monday evening (when I wrote this) and I’m already exhausted. I’d say “what a week!” but it’s been a day. I DIGRESS.

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Currently, (as I navigate my at Monday evening), I am…

Listening to: A Spotify playlist I made featuring all the songs on Will Arnett’s horrible Netflix original series called Flaked. The show will make you upset with Venice and friendship and humanity (in a totally not worth it way) but the music will make you moody and solemn and deep (in the best way!), so do that instead.

Eating: I just finished an “open-faced grilled cheese sandwich.” AKA I microwaved a slab of brie on an english muffin, and I’m trying to make myself feel okay about it. Other people my age have families of five and I’m still cooking at a junior-high level but THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT.

Sipping on: A glass of pinot noir. Always. I mean obviously not always, but you know, sometimes. We’re getting into the most uncomfortable time of the year for red-wine connoisseurs, btw – when the rising outside temperatures make ordering a malbec or shiraz socially uncomfortable. But be bold, lovers of the dark-colored grape, and do not let those rosé or *shivers* chardonnay drinkers cramp your style. For if it truly gets too warm out to think about sipping on a red, there’s always our good friend whiskey on the rocks.

Feeling good about: This past weekend. I helped coordinate an alumni happy hour AND I organized a donut crawl, which is exactly what it sounds like (a bar crawl of donut shops). Both were occasions to catch up with people who I’ve spent too long not seeing, and it was so good to socialize and spend some time exploring new places in the city which I too often (literally daily) take for granted.

Reading: Finishing up Aziz Ansari’s Modern Romance and starting Pamela Ryckman’s Stiletto Network for book club (#oneNewYearsResolutiondown).

Missing: My long-distance family and friends. And Whitney Houston, always.

Terrified of: Spiders. Job stuff. Strangers/being followed. Walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I’m with you. You know, the normal things to be terrified of.

Excited about: OH I REBRANDED MY WEBSITE. In a time when I actually have 1,000,000+ other things I should be working on in my spare time, I decided to move full speed ahead with the website rebrand I’ve been thinking about for a year on the blog I update maybe once every other month at most. Anyways, it’s still a bit of a work in progress, but I chose the name Uptown Moxie because:

a) I’m no longer the little girl I was when I moved to the big apple five years ago, and even though ‘uptown’ is specific to where I live curently, I like being a little more expansive with my geo-referencing. Just perhaps I won’t live in New York for the rest of my blogging days. Just perhaps.

b) I have always lived Uptown, and I’m basically Christie Brinkley

c) I liked and have used the word Moxie plenty of times before Allison Williams named her dog. But for the record I died a million times when she got/named that adorable pup.

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With that, I’m at the end of my feelings and also at the end of my wine glass. I hope you like the rebrand and that you’ll stick around to hear my ramblings, however many months apart I may post them. Xo.

P.S. Follow my blog with Bloglovin


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Another one.

The start of another year always makes for a nice touch-base on the blog. It’s no coincidence that the past two weeks I’ve been “vacationing” in the midwest so I’ve had ample time to reflect back on the previous 12 months and rekindle my flame for writing. Let’s call it a temporary resurgence while I wind myself back into the norm of juggling the everyday chaos city-life loves to provide.

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Looking back on 2015’s top-of-the-year post, last year’s supposed mantra was adventure. That didn’t really pan out the way I thought it would. I think a more appropriate theme would have been personal growth, and overall, I am at peace with how it and I evolved throughout the given 12 months.

In 2015 I…

  • Made a conscious effort to work out more often and eat cleaner.
  • Saw some kickass theatre.
  • Saw some kickass comedy.
  • Had three job interviews with the company of my dreams. After the first interview went poorly [for a position I was ultimately not offered], I drank a good amount of Jameson Black Barrel and was sure I forever lost my chance to get a foot in the door. Two months later, I started working for said company in a department and position which much better aligned with my long-term career goals.
  • Dealt with a thing over the summer that was awful and painful and taught me yet another life lesson about letting go.
  • Spent a relaxing long weekend in LA and a chaotic long weekend in DC .
  • Watched five of my closest friends marry their soul mates at five beautiful weddings.
  • Decided I’m content not being married right now.
  • Traveled to Ohio seven times in five months.
  • Saw one of my favorite musicians live, for the first time. Also, another first, attended a concert by myself.
  • Hiked a mountain in the Hudson Valley and climbed a ski slope in Stratton, Vermont.
  • Cooked and ate vegan food on Thanksgiving.
  • Got glasses.
  • Finally saw Tina Fey and Amy Poehler together in person.
  • Made my first business trip to Miami.
  • Won my fantasy football league championship. (#humblebrag)
  • Spent time with aunts, uncles, and cousins I rarely get to see over the holidays.
  • Danced myself into 2016 with my closest friends.

2015 was a year I said Yes more. It was a year I took chances. I told people how I felt, spent a lot of money on things and trips that felt right to me and realized I don’t regret any time I put myself out there. 2015 was good to me — I’d say I’m lucky, but these days I feel pretty confident that we create our own karma, happiness, success, or what have you.

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I sense that 2016 will be amazing and tough. I have a lot of work to do professionally, and I’ve set some high goals for myself on a personal level. I anticipate more reading, writing, music, travel and work. I look forward to another challenging year of saying Yes, focusing on wellness, and keeping in better touch with my friends and family. Aside of maintaining all of that, here are a few additional personal (and random) resolutions I’ve set:

  1. Teach myself to play guitar.
  2. Learn conversational Spanish.
  3. Join a book club.
  4. Travel to the Pacific Northwest.

I’ve already sunk my teeth into some of these and am very much looking forward to tackling 2016 head-on. What are you planning to take on in 2016? Any resolutions as out there as mine?

Let’s conquer the world this year. Anyone with me?

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What I’m Watching: Fall 2016 edition

Well, well, well. Here we are again, new primetime season. It feels like just yesterday we were talking about A to Z (RIP), Marry Me (RIP), and the final seasons of Parks and Rec (RIP) and Parenthood (super RIP). Yes, NBC did slay my soul last season. Although original content distribution platforms and timetables are ever-evolving, it’s still safe to say television amps up the in the fall. Every September+ brings a fresh batch of new shows to get pumped about and returning favorites to mark your calendars for.

A few important notes before I get to the meat and potatoes:

a) As you may know, I gravitate toward comedies. I’ve been weaning myself into more dramas lately with goodies like Breaking Bad (re-watching), American Crime (still working on but loving so far!), The Wire (watched because I liked American Crime and Amy Poehler told me to), and The Americans (also really great). People don’t actually consider Orange is the New Black a drama right? I digress…

b) This year’s new shows are really laser-focusing on that 90’s-obsessed Gen Y and Millennial audience. (Note: that’s me and yes, I am listening.) I see you throwing these actors from decades past in my face. Looking at you Rob Lowe, John Stamos, Fred Savage, all ya’ll Muppets, NPH, Jamie Lee Curtis, I COULD GO ON. But here’s the deal: it’s one thing to entice an audience – and an entirely different thing to keep them around. Like everyone else raised with Beanie Babies and water beds, I tuned into Girl Meets World (#respect), and it was apparent Disney brand-slapped Ben Savage and Danielle Fishel hard. I realize rolling beloved actors into brand new characters is an entirely different feat, but don’t stake your campaign/show entirely around talent. Here’s to hoping the writers and producers of these new series also do their homework so that some of these new players (especially on networks) build some audiences who stick around.

c) This season is TOUGH. With hardly any returning favorites and new series I’m only slightly intrigued by, I’m a little less than enthused with what’s on the table. This summer set a lot of high standards for programming (OITNB, Difficult People, Wet Hot American Summer, The Fosters, Mr. Robot, probably a lot more I’m forgetting), so maybe that’s what makes falling into the fall a littler scarier this time around.

Now with all of that out in the open, here’s what I am most looking forward to tuning into over the next few months. [All times listed in ET, the only timezone that matters ;)]

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Brand spankin’ new content:

  • Best Time Ever with Neil Patrick Harris (NBC): The network god (NBC) and its vastly talented holy spirt triple threat (NPH) is are attempting to bring back the variety show format to primetime television. For as much street cred and punch as NPH can pack, I’m not quite sure if an audience will stick the landing. Regardless, I’m there for the ride. Premiered September 15th and will continue airing on Tuesdays at 10pm
  • Life in Pieces (CBS): I don’t know that the world needs a new Modern Family (mostly because the original is still holding up just fine), but I’m curious to see CBS’s supposedly “edgier” twist on “authentic” family humor told through chopped up vignettes. Premieres on Monday, September 21 at 8:30pm
  • Blindspot (NBC): While the premise (a memory-less tattoo-mapped girl winds up in a bag in Times Square) is a little hokey, NBC has been doing their darndest to push this show and I could stand to get in on an action-based thriller. Premieres Monday, September 21 at 10pm
  • The Muppets (ABC): I mean, I think we’re all curious. And as a single adult woman, I would love to live in a world where “did you see what happened on last night’s Muppets?!” is an acceptable and interesting first-date topic. Please grant my wishes, ABC! Premieres Tuesday, September 22 at 8pm
  • Scream Queens (Fox): Scream Queens to Fox feels like Blindspot to NYC. Couldn’t be more different re: premise (SQ= Lots of lady-power helmed by JLC that’s purposely silly-scary, put on by the makers of Glee and American Horror Story), but there’s just so. much. promotion. Did you guys know I work in marketing? So yeah, I’ll check it out. Premieres Tuesday, September 22 at 8pm
  • Grandfathered (Fox): My conscience knows this isn’t going to be an older Jesse Katsopolis (just wait for Fuller House, Mandy!), but even after all the greek yogurt commercials, I will still follow John Stamos around like a lost puppy. Premieres Tuesday, September 29th at 8pm
  • The Grinder (Fox): I welcome back Rob Lowe and Fred Savage to my television set with open arms in this weird, impractical, lawyer-centric story line. Premieres Tuesday, September 29th at 8:30pm
  • Wicked City (ABC): True Detective for network? But it’s with Chuck Bass and set on the 1982 Sunset Strip with a focus on serial murders. Enough buzzwords for me to at least give it a shot. Premieres Tuesday, October 27th at 10pm
  • Master of None (Netflix): Aziz Ansari’s new series about a New York actor (loosely based on himself who, as he puts it, “[is] in his early 30s, he has good friends, and realizes, ‘Oh shit, I’m an adult now.’” Aziz is a hilarious genius, and if this show remotely resembles his previous work (Parks and Recreation, his book Modern Love, his standup in general), I’ll likely be a huge fan. Premieres Friday, November 6

Oldies but goodies (aka returning, and some revised, favorites):

  • The Mindy Project (Hulu): Premiered September 15th
  • Modern Family (ABC): Season seven premiers Wednesday, September 23 at 9pm
  • Jane the Virgin (The CW): Season two premieres Monday, October 12
  • Transparent (Amazon): Season two premieres Friday, December 4
  • New Girl (Fox): Season five premiere date TBD

What else am I missing? Because I truly am always looking for more reasons to skip the gym.

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