Obligatory New Years Questions (courtesy of Ari)

1- Did you kiss anyone?
Yes.
2- Did you date anyone?
Just a few...
3- Are you going to kiss someone when the ball drops?
If anyone tries anything I'll punch them in the face.
4- Did you lose any friends?
Nope...I don't think so anyway.
5- Did you gain any friends?
Yes.
6- Did you do something new?
I did EVERYTHING new...
7- Did anyone important to you die?
No, thank God.
8- Did you change?
I've changed SO much.
9- Are you happy with the year over all?
It has been very different. But yes...I think I am happy over all.
10- What's the best thing that happened to you?
I got a job...I'm not poor person on the street.
11- Did you fall in or out of love?
Well...if I fell in love I fell out of it...fast.
12- Are you happy the years almost over?
Yes...I think so. I'm ready for a new year.
13- Are you going to change something about yourself next year?
I'll take care of myself more. And I want to be better at keeping in touch.
14- Do you think 2009 will be a better year then 2008?
Of course!
20- Did you go on a summer vacation?
Florida, baby!
22- Did you get into a fight?
I don't remember it if I did. Must not have been important.
23- Did you leave the country
Nope...sadly.
24- Did you have a good birthday?
It was kind of weird. I had a Sex in the City cupcake and sushi.
25- Did anyone in your family get married?
Not yet.
26- Do you think you grew?
So much.
27- Did you dye your hair?
I got blond highlights.
28- Who do you think you were on the phone with the most?
Ari or Mom
29- Did anyone sing to you?
Yes...but that's a long story.
30- Did you sing to anyone?
Myself in the shower.
31- Did anyone tell you they loved you?
Yep! What's not to love...
32- Did you ever go to the hospital?
Nope. I hate hospitals.
33- What did you drink and eat the most?
Water and probably hummus.
35- Did you change your profile over 10 times?!
I'm not sure. I don't think so.
36- Did you change your default at least 20 times?
No.
37- Did you get a tattoo?
No.
38- Did you vote?
No.
39- Are you going to make a new years resolution ?
Yep...
41- Think you’ll date someone in 2009?
Probably. Hopefully he's better than the ones last year!
42- Where will you be when the ball drops?
Times Square!
43- Do you think you will make new friends in 2009?
Probably. But it's hard to believe they could be better than my friends now.
44- Are you hoping to meet someone special in 2009?
Hehehe...
45- How do you feel, another year has passed you by?
I feel ready...bring it on!

Thanksgiving a little late

Pictures to come!

After reading this story (http://living.health.com/2008/07/10/want-happier-lif-try-being-thankful/) from Healthy Living, I’ve decided to dedicate today’s post to what I’m most thankful for. After careful consideration, here are the top ten:

1) New York City: As much as the congestion, pollution and general nastiness make me want to turn around and run in the opposite direction, there are so many things to love about NYC. Below are some pictures that should help explain:
2) My job: It’s stressful, yes, but it’s also really an amazing opportunity. I’m learning about the publishing world, sales, online marketing, multi-platform marketing programs, as well as media kits, inserts, advertorials and event planning. Honestly, I think with this job on my resume I could go so many different directions. I have options. And I also just got a merit raise today!
3) My family: They are amazingly supportive. Beyond what’s necessary. I love them more than words can say. We’re talking THIS MUCH…
4) My friends: I kind of have girly friend crushes on all of you. And yes, that was supposed to be a little creepy.
a. Ari: You know more about me than anyone else except my mom. We’ve grown together so much (can you believe how much and for how long? 17 years!) and I love that I can always count on you for a shoulder to cry on. Or constantly whine on. You’re my friend soul mate!
b. Erin/Megan: I’m only lesbian for you two. I love our three ways more than I can express. So hot…You guys are my safe place when I’m angry at the world and want to kill EVERYONE (which is often) or when I need someone to pull me back from the brink of bull shit. And yes, Erin, I still do love all things beautiful.
c. Jessica/Tiff: You are two of the most beautiful souls I have ever met. Can you believe it’s been five years since I started living in your dorm room? Time flies. I can always count on you for encouragement, inspiration and a good laugh. We really are the three musketeers. And we really should be on the same continent at some point.
d. Katie: GREEDY KATIE!! You are so…(at the risk of sounding like my grandmother) PRECIOUS! I just love you and you are such a delight. And you are the only one who I can really talk fashion with--a very important job.
e. My other friends who make my life worth living: I really want to write a paragraph for everyone but I’m at work and probably should get back to it soon. So…Tessa, Angie, Red, Jeanne, Alisa, Adrienne, Carmen, Leighton, Cole, Helena, Emily…I am SO thankful for you and I want you to
know that.
(Now that all the obvious things are out of the way…)
5) Cocktails: I am SO thankful for cocktails, especially gin and tonic with lime. I also REALLY like (surprise!) cosmos. At their best cocktails are served at lunch time after a manicure and while wearing a large cocktail ring from nOir.
6) Being single: As much as a family sounds nice in theory, I’m really happy where I am right now with my marital status. I’m sure all that responsibility will come in time. Let’s not hurry it.
7) I like myself: This is something that I’ve struggled with in the past, but I really think that I can honestly say these days, I like myself. I think self-love is the foundation that happiness is built on. If you don’t like yourself, you make all kinds of self-destructive decisions that just make you hate yourself more in the end. Believe me, I’ve been there. And just to clarify—self-love is not selfishness (although it can develop into that). I just think you need a healthy respect and love for your body and your mind. It’s the temple of God after all.
8) Christmas: I love this time of year. And New York is amazing right now (see #1) with the decorations in Bryant Park, Central Park, Fifth Ave, and even my little Williamsburg is getting in on the Yuletide cheer. And the Lord and Taylor window displays are simply lovely. I even decorated my room in honor of the mother of all western holidays. Like my Charlie Brown bachelorette tree?
9) I’m Italian. Need I say more?
10) It’s winter: Although I hate snow more than Hitler and pedophiles, I do like winter in theory. I like wearing coats and mittens. I like hot herbal tea. I like cozying up with a book and a candle and watching the nastiness outside have no affect on me. And I like ice-skating, presents, and holing up in my room with good excuse: three things that come with cooler weather. This in no way makes me happy in the cold…just so you know. I’m just trying to be thankful here.

The Blues

Yesterday it started really snowing. The kind of snow you can see on your black coat for more than two seconds. The kind of snow that sticks.

Yuck.

It actually got warmer, oddly enough, before the blessed event. I guess I’ll take warmer weather and icy precipitation over frigid wind and piercing rain.

I’ve been feeling down lately. And it’s not because of the snow (I don’t think). I’m just…blah. And it’s a little strange because I can’t put a finger on why I should feel this way. Greedy Katie is coming up on Friday. My sister is here picking up my laundry and cooking me dinner. My parents are coming next week. It’s Christmas for crying out loud! What’s my problem? I’m going to make a decision to snap out of it. And I’m going for a run today. Yay, endorphins.

Tomorrow Sarah and I are going to a salon. She’s getting a cut, style, and manicure. I’m getting an ion treatment. My hair is so fried after years of straightening it really needs some conditioning. Professional conditioning.

Last night, Sarah and I ate veggie burgers and salad and watched Thelma and Louise. I put it in my Netflix queue because EW ranked it one of the 40 hottest movies. Let’s just say the only hot part of the movie was watching the two drive their Thunderbird off the Grand Cannon with sweat dripping from their foreheads. Brad Pitt performed his role with a country accent and he might have been the only entertaining part of the movie outside of the ending. I forgot how lanky he used to be. But my goodness…what an ass. Then I painted Sarah’s toenails and went to sleep.

It was an exciting evening.

My Friday Morning Wake-up Call

I saw the saddest thing today while I was walking to the subway. There were two little boys—they couldn’t have been older than 10—and they were talking while waiting to cross the street. One had his hair teased into a Mohawk and they both had huge ratty puffer coats and pants that were at least three sizes too big.

My first reaction when seeing them: How cute. Little gangstas.

Then I went back to thinking about all the projects I had to finish today. That is, until I got within hearing distance. It was unbelievable.

The boy on the left (sans-mohawk): Man, my brother knocked a guy off last night.
Right boy (with Mohawk): With what?
Left boy: With a gun, you dumb ass.
Right boy: He had it coming, right?
Left boy: Hell yeah! He had the crack.
Right boy: Oh.
Left boy: My brother don’t take no shit.
Right boy: Yeah.

Maybe the kid of the left was making the entire thing up to impress his friend. But what if he wasn’t? And what does that say about those boy’s futures when a murder would impress them? It was really, really sad. And of course "sad" doesn't quite describe it.

On a whole different note, my sister is here and I'm a little worried for her. She says one of her finals didn't "go through" so now she has to re-take the class. But she is all set to go to UCF in January and I really hope that doesn't affect her starting classes there. And she doesn't want to tell mom. Which always ends up being a mistake. But we had a really nice time last night--I made a spelt noodle, green bean, pesto dish and salad for dinner. Then later we talked over hot chocolate and oatmeal raisin cookies (that I baked!). I have to say, I was really impressed with myself. I also have expelled every ounce of domesticity for the entire week. It's time for take-out, late nights and cosmos!

And Emily is coming tonight! Fun times ahead...

Also, take a look at these...I almost died:

http://www.time.com/time/specials/2008/top10/article/0,30583,1855948_1863736_1863728,00.html

http://www.time.com/time/specials/2008/top10/article/0,30583,1855948_1863736_1863731,00.html

This just made my day:

Zac Posen recently announced his own bridge line, and Thakoon will soon launch Thakoon Addition just before summer and winter next year, which will also be based off of his “most popular” designs (let’s see if some of his Target creations - December 28th! - make it into the remix).--Fashionista

Hallelujah. I'm always in the mood for budget friendly couture.

Heaven, snow and bubble baths.

This weekend it began to snow. And also, I took three bubble baths on Saturday. Those are the highlights of my weekend.

Do you ever feel like your life is just one huge to-do list? I have my personal to-do list (get my credit cards under control, start sending Christmas cards, call a bazillion people, laundry, cooking, etc.) And then I have my work to-do list (finish writing my pharmaceuticals advertorial, finish a few spread sheets, proof read our media kit, etc.) And I always feel like one or the other is hanging over me like a limp, dead…thing…that constantly hangs. Is there ever peace? Is there ever complete contentment? It’s not that I mind having things to do. In fact, I hate being bored and I would much rather be insanely busy than sleep all day (most of the time). I just wish I could turn off my mind when I was trying to rest. I wish I had a peace switch. Turn it on when you want to be productive and switch it off when you just want to…be. Maybe that’s what heaven will be like.

In other news, my sister is coming to visit on Tuesday. She’ll be staying for a few weeks and I’m really excited that we’ll have a chance to talk. She has gone through so much in the past year. It will be great for her to relax a bit. Then Emily is coming on Friday (to see Twilight and All My Sons). The next weekend Katie get here (to go see The New York Ballet’s Nutcracker with Sarah and I). Then my parents get here for Christmas the next week! It’s going to be a very busy month.

By the way, if you could all give me your addresses…that would be fantastic. I want to send you some holiday cheer.

Much love.

Christmas time is here...

Last night they lighted the Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center. I decided that I should go and made myself some hot tea before heading down there around 6:30.

I thought I knew what it felt to be like a sardine in the subway? That was NOTHING compared to this madness. But it was jolly madness, so I sipped my hot tea and listened to all the families around me and started to feel a sweet loneliness. It was mostly a good time.

The tree was beautiful. I can’t wait to go skating with Sarah when she comes next week. We’ll also go shopping down there. And get a Magnolia cupcake (they have a store in midtown now!) Life will be good.

Where Have All the Good Men Gone?

It’s so funny going from Hillsdale boys to New York City boys. Hillsdale boys won’t make eye contact to make sure you won’t get “the wrong idea.” New York City boys get you drunk and then try to usher you to their apartments—where they hope you have the “wrong idea”…if you know what I mean. Hillsdale boys open doors for you. New York City boys steal your cabs. Hillsdale boys play Ultimate Frisbee. New York City boys don’t even lift things—they have “bad back problems in their family”…”its preventative.” Hillsdale boys swing dance. New York City boys want lap dances.

Last night I went on a date with a guy named Richard. He took me to the Guggenheim and out for “a glass of wine” afterward. Which turned into “just a few” martinis. Richard is from England and flies back and forth from London “all the time…first class.” Aren’t we all impressed? After insulting America, being an ass to our waitress, and talking about himself the whole night he had the nerve to invite me to his hotel room. Even though it was a thoroughly romantic offer, I regretfully had to decline. You see, I had work the next day and he had an early flight out of JFK.

“That doesn’t matter,” he said trying to go in for a kiss.

He’s lucky I didn’t smack him.

Where have all the good men gone? Is there no happy medium? Do they have to be slime balls or completely socially awkward?

Here's a toast to Coach, mid-day drinks and nOir!

So…I’m thinking about buying myself a Coach bag. Here’s the link, tell me what you think:

http://www.coach.com/content/product.aspx?product_no=11804&category_id=200&query=Sabrina%20Satchel

I’m thinking I like the purple.

Thoughts?

On a less happy note, my best friend in the office got laid off on Monday. I’m going to be so depressed when she leaves next week. It’s going to be so lonely! Today we went to get manicures over lunch and then went to Bryant Park and had a glass of wine. I’m going to miss that…

Yesterday during lunch I went to the nOir sample sale which was amazing. Two of my work friends came too and we all ended up buying the same ring. I actually bough two rings and I will post pictures soon.

I guess that’s all I have to say! I’ll update more this weekend. It should be low key…hopefully.

And Life Goes On...

I just bought myself a ticket to the Metropolitan Opera to see Madame Butterfly. I loved La Boheme when I went with Katie and Judith in Chicago and I read a review in the Times and they said this production is beautiful, so I’m really excited and have high expectations. I love Puccini. What has Hillsdale done to me?

In other news, my dad came to visit me last night. We had sushi at a Japanese restaurant (that wasn’t that expensive!) and then I showed him my new apartment. He kept saying, “I’m so proud of you.” I haven’t told him I’m leaving yet, and apparently my mom has stayed mum. That’s going to be a bit difficult. He kept saying things like, “you’re a role model to your sister” and “you’ve really done good, kid.” Oh and…”you’re really lucky, people would kill for this opportunity.” That was my favorite. I kept saying things like, “I don’t want to be a role model” and “yeah, New York is great but I can’t live here very much longer.” He didn’t get the hint. I really hope I don’t disappoint him too much.

I’m having a house warming party on Saturday. And none of my friends can make it. Which isn’t surprising because a) most people have plans three weekends in advance, b) most of my friends are in the DC area and traveling is a lot of trouble and money and c) my apartment is sort of off the beaten track all the way in Brooklyn. So all these things combined makes it mostly my roommate’s party. And I’m still helping to pay for the booze. Which, is my fault entirely, as I always have to be liked, etc and told her I didn’t mind. I will be getting very, VERY drunk on Saturday night. I have to drink my half all by myself.

On a more cheerful note, Megan, Erin and Tessa are coming to spend Thanksgiving with me. I am so excited I can’t even handle it. We have a plan that is going to be VERY interesting. If you need specifics I can tell you individually. Suffice it to say, we will all be changed women when it is over. And sore most likely.

For my birthday my office bought me a “Sex in the City” cupcake that was completely pink with green frosting. It was fantastic. And I also went out for lunch with some co-workers and got Sushi at a karaoke restaurant. So we got our own little karaoke room. No singing, but plenty of laughing. It was a good time. Not perfect, but an adequately good time.

I’m 23 now. Damn, I’m old.

Birthday!

When I was younger I was always angry because I never felt like God spoke to me.

Now, he won’t stop talking in a loud, very incessant voice.

Maybe I just wasn’t listening before? Or maybe I just wasn’t ready? I don’t know. But I know one thing—I can hear him now. Loud and clear.

And that is the BEST birthday present, ever.

A Big Announcement

Too tired to clean, return phone calls, or get my lunch ready for Monday, I slumped down to watch Garden State last night after a long day of laundry, exercise and Church. I love Garden State. I cry every time Largeman comes back for Sam. Every time. Anyway, Largeman says something in the movie that made more sense to me now that I’ve permanently moved away from home. And its a scene that I’d never really thought about after all these years of watching and analyzing that movie.

You know the part when they all go swimming in their underwear (which as I learned after watching the special features, was EXTREMELY cold and Zach Braff screams like a girl) and then Sam and Large kind of bond in the shallow end once every one sees his less than par swimming technique? He gets to talking about the concept of home and how there is a moment when you stop seeing home as the place where you grew up. You go to that place and, while it’s comforting, it’s not home. Because the place you grew up changes. Rooms change. The people in those rooms change. It’s like you’re homesick for a place that doesn’t exist.

I remember when I was a kid how much I hated being told what to do. I wanted to stay up for the news. I couldn’t stand setting the table (especially being the unhappy sucker who had to put out ALL the utensils—because everyone knows that’s the hard part). It was a hard life—being a kid. And as much as I don’t want to go back—part of me is screaming, WHERE IS MY MOMMY? And, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN NEW YORK CITY?!? It’s scary. It's smelly. People are rude. I am not comfortable. And I am not at home.

But then I think about it. Will I really feel at home anywhere right now? Isn’t this the time in my life when the growing pains are the most acute? I’m out from under the umbrella, walking in the world alone for the first time without protection. Did I expect this to be pleasant at first? I guess until I can build my own umbrella, I’ll be feeling the rain, right?

This isn’t to say that I don’t love New York. I do. I love the city, I love the energy and I really love being able to go to the original Marc Jacobs boutique. And my job is pretty great. I just don’t think this is going to be where I settle down. I don’t feel at peace here. There is too much activity. Too much competition.

So I’m making an announcement. I’ve decided that I’m going to give this job a year. So next July, I’ll give my 30-days notice. Until then, I’m going to research jobs in Europe and hopefully live there for a while. Eventually, though, I want to end up back in Florida. I really think that’s where I’m supposed to settle down. I don’t know what I’ll do, or if I’ll even stay in the magazine business. I actually don’t think I will. I’m learning a lot about myself in New York and one thing I know I don’t respond well to is stress. And this city is the capitol of stress. And media is a stressful business. Extremely stressful. I don’t want millions of dollars on my head. I mean, I wouldn’t mind millions of dollars, I just don’t want to be responsible for someone else’s millions of dollars. All of that to say—I think I just want a job that isn’t in an office, doesn’t make my stomach do flip flops, and gives me a sense of purpose.

Oh yeah, and I want to wear flip flops.

Is that too much to ask?

The Tropics?

I’m going to take a moment to collect my thought and breath…

There, that’s better.

I finished putting together my first ever sales presentation deck today. It’s been an adventure. And pretty stressful.

Besides that I have nothing to report except for the fact that my mother came to visit me last weekend. I love my mom. It was so nice to be taken care of for a while. We went shopping for groceries, went to Target to look for things I need for the apartment, went and saw her friend in the New York Marathon (which was amazing), and checked out quite a few fun restaurants in my new neighborhood. One is a falafel place with falafel sandwiches for 3 dollars! We also found a sushi place with really good Philadelphia rolls for 3.50. I bought Uggs and also looked at some dresses in Lord and Taylor. It made me want a raise.

Also, I found out that my dad is coming to New York next week for a sales meeting and he’s going to take me out to dinner. I’m looking for somewhere expensive….

Tomorrow I’m having a frittata for breakfast for a co-workers birthday. I know because I ordered them…and I’m kind of excited. They looked really delicious in the brochure.

Besides that—nothing that exciting to report. Life is pretty monotonous and mostly stressful. I think when I decide to leave New York I’m going to go somewhere very tropical. Yeah…somewhere with palm trees and the sound of the waves. Wait…isn’t that where I started? Maybe forward motion isn’t the best motion after all.

The Heather Update (Oct 24th Edition)

Here is my news for the day in bulleted format for your scanning pleasure:

• Emily is coming this weekend! So I’m going to meet her in midtown around 10 tonight. I have a flexible itinerary and I hope we make the most of this visit. I’m hoping to do touristy things on Saturday (Broadway, Empire State, Times Square) and real New York things on Sunday (brunch, Magnolias, Canal Street, jay walking…). I’m so excited! So until she gets here (after work) I’m going to the MoMA free Friday night event and then I’m going to finish up some stuff at the apartment.
• For those of you who were concerned—this week was much better than last week. I did some expenses, helped write some copy for an advertorial, planned an office wedding shower and went to (and planned) an Emmy “thank you” lunch. It was much less stressful. It was actually pretty entertaining. I also caught up on my blogs. My new favorite is www.restaurantgal.com. Check it out (but you have to start from the beginning).
• I got tickets to see Jon Stewart! My tickets are for February (that’s how long you have to get them in advance). I’ll let you know how that goes.
• My furniture is completely put together! All I need now is a tv, chair/love seat and everything will be perfect. I’ll post pictures when a) I find my camera and b) I feel like the apartment is ready for it’s blog debut.
• I met another boy! His name is Todd. But I’m not sure if I really like him yet. He has this annoying discoloration on his front tooth and every time he talks it’s kind of distracting. But we’ll see…He’s a nice guy. We have a date on Tuesday night. I think we’re going to the Buddha Bar in the Meat Packing district. Fun times.
• I found a miracle tea. It’s made by the Republic of Tea and I swear—I’ve drank it for the past few mornings and my breakouts have disappeared. It’s called “Get Gorgeous” and you can find it at Whole Foods. Check it out!


Ta ta for now!

XXOO

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is a hot dog vending machine. On Coney Island, no less.

What will they think of next?

And according to New York magazine, the hot dogs can be in there for 20 days at a time before they plop out of the dispenser and you take a bite out of 'em. Yum.

It's moments like this I'm glad I'm a vegetarian.

Maybe this isn't as funny as I think...but I think it's pretty funny...

I saw this on another blog and thought it was a pretty funny thought.



He probably would have come over anyway...

Nightmare on 42nd Street, between 5th and 6th

I’m finally settled in my apartment. It’s funny because all last week I was procrastinating, thinking that I would NEVER get the mess that was my room/landing in control. But after three hours this weekend, I’m pretty much done. Hallelujah.

And cleaning was most definitely therapeutic. I turned on some tunes and sorted, scrubbed, and sanitized EVERY last piece of junk I own (which is considerably less after the great bed bug debacle of 08) and that in turn gave me time to sort, scrub and sanitize my thoughts. Well…somewhat at least. It was nice to just spend the weekend getting life together. And I had a deep tissue massage too because it was spa week. I love New York.

I needed that massage too because last week was amazingly stressful—both at work and at home. First TV Guide was sold (Yay!) to a private equity firm (yay!) based in Paris (Yay! Time to get that passport out…). All in all—this was good news. We were getting all this positive press because we had brokered a deal even in the middle of the economic hullabaloo—it was a happy day. The only happy day. Part of the deal was that there would be no disclosure of the financial side of the deal, which I figured was pretty standard so I didn’t worry too much about it. Well…the next day we all wake up to an article in Advertising Age with the headline: “TV Guide sold for a buck.” And it was true. We were sold for one dollar. One dollar. Which I actually thought was a joke at first and laughed. No one else in the room laughed. Apparently the company who bought us are taking a considerable amount of debt (100 million) to own us, so that was their “payment.” Once that was explained, I understood, but none of the articles are including that vital piece of info! So we had a PR nightmare. I had people calling from the NY Times, the WSJ, the Post—it was insane. I’ve never said “no comment” more in my life (and just for clarification—they were calling to talk to my boss…not me. I’m not that important.). It just makes us look like a joke. And that is never good for a magazine that survives because of ad revenue.

Also, we have this cover party tomorrow. Which we didn’t realize we were having until the end of last week. Apparently some of the sales reps wanted to have a “happy hour” and started planning and it got out of control and somehow someone mentioned a cover party in the invitation to clients. Now, a “cover party” is something very specific in the magazine world. You have talent. You have alchohol. You have food. It’s a real party. And the cover they were celebrating was for 30 Rock, which is a really hot show right now. You don’t just walk up to the set and expect to get Alec Baldwin and Tina Fey to come to your “happy hour.” And that’s what we needed. Because that’s what everyone is expecting. Beccuase it is a “cover party.” And you expect the stars on the cover that you’re celebrating to be at their “cover party.” So, in short, it has been super insane. We finally got the talent to agree, we secured a venue and we think we have everything under control. But…whew. It was a crazy week. The only thing left is to actually go to the party…which shouldn’t be too stressful. I’m just supposed to “babysit” the talent. Whatever that means. I hope they’re not divas.

Anyway…that has been my life for the last week. I’ll update again tomorrow with further scintillating details.

LA or Bust: Part Two

Here is the very late follow up to my LA adventure!

Everybody knows the real party at the Emmy awards starts after the cameras turn off. Drunk and mostly disappointed celebrities meander through as many after parties as they can, milking the free publicity and the free booze. Sometimes this happens without incident—other times you’re lucky enough to catch a glimpse of something truly spectacular. So, last month when I found out I was going to work one of the hottest Emmy night bashes, excited didn’t begin to describe my reaction. Hysterical was more like it.

I really didn’t expect to see anyone until 10 or 11pm (what self respecting celeb is actually on time to an event?) So when we got to the party and people were whispering that LiLo and her gal-pal Samantha Ronson were already in the VIP tent, I was a little taken aback. But that didn’t stop me from scoping out the situation. Careful not to look like I was gawking (which probably made me even more obvious) I walked over to get a drink by where the two were canoodaling. And she looked…it was so sad. I almost cried for her (but that would have ruined my make-up). She was in this little slinky velvet dress with a hood that looked like she must of bought it drunk, high and on her Blackberry. The material and the dark color did nothing for her emaciated frame and pale skin tone. She was also definitely sporting the twelve-year old I-just-got-out-of-the-pool-and-towel-dried-my-hair-while-eating-a-very-berry-popcycle look. Suffice it to say, I was not impressed. Samantha was even less impressive, but there were no expectations there. But I couldn’t help but be happy for them. They looked happily oblivious to their sadness.

The next celeb on the radar was Lauren Conrad and Lo Bosworth from The Hills. I obsessively watch The Hills, so I was so excited when the two (and Lo’s new boy toy) sat down right next to where my group was standing. Lo looked fabulous, as always. She was wearing this gold belted dress with black pumps. They actually looked like YSL Tributes—but I didn’t get close enough to be really sure. Lauren was also fantastic in a navy blue ankle length gown with a jeweled brooch. I read somewhere that she designed it herself—but I guess there are also murmurings that her full time job of hating “Speidi” and propensity to sun bathe leave her little time to make an honest living. After twenty minutes or so, I overheard her saying she wasn’t feeling well and she ended up leaving the party early. Lo and co. followed soon after.

Chandra Wilson (Dr. Bailey on Grey’s Anatomy) was quite elegant in a black Tadashi Shoji halter gown. My co-worker and I appropriately gushed over her fantastic performance on the show and she genuinely thanked us. I think she might have been my favorite celebrity of the evening, mostly because she was so real in a room brimming with fake boobs, fake smiles and fake bravado.

Sandra Oh (Dr. Yang on Grey’s Anatomy) sauntered down the red carpet next, in an Oscar de la Renta black lace dress. But it was her sister, Grace Oh, that I actually met. She was beautiful too, in a classic Hollywood red gown and a red lip. They look exactly the same, and have very similar facial expressions, so it was pretty funny to talk to her. She was a little lost and looking for Sandra—eventually she went back in the party to retrieve her sibling. That girl was a riot.

The next celebrity will only be exciting to all those girls who were obsessed with NSYNC when they were 13—myself included. Joey Fatone (Who is the host of the new series “The Singing Office” that has debuted with less than stellar ratings—and not surprisingly in my opinion. Does anyone actually want to see their boss sing, “Like a Virgin” into a ruler? I didn’t think so) actually looked great in my opinion. Maybe the camera does put on twenty pounds.

The Office crew got there a little later. I actually bumped into BJ Novak (Ryan) as he was walking in my general direction (so maybe he bumped into me?)—which might have been a bit embarrassing if any thoughts besides “oh-my-god-that’s-BJ-Novak” were going through my head during the slow mo collision. I saw John Kransinski (Jim) next, which also was a highlight of the evening. He was as hot in person, as he is on television. Melora Hardin (Jan), Brian Baumgartner (Kevin), and Phyllis Smith (Phyllis) were also milling around. I really wanted to give Phyllis a hug because I think I’ve been conditioned to feel like that when I see her on the show. But I refrained—which was probably a good thing for my job.

Two actors from another show I’m obsessed with, Pushing Daisies, were also present and milling around. Lee Pace (The Pie Maker) was so adorable and there was no mistaking the signature voice of Kristin Chenoweth (Olive) who I know and love as Glenda the good witch in the Broadway show Wicked. Her dress was a fantastic white gown and she admitted to reporters that, “this isn’t my hair, or my eyelashes!” So honest!

There were a billion other celebs too: Kevin Spacey, Jaimie Fox, Jesse Spencer (Chase on House), Simon Rex (Entourage), Kyra Sedgwick (The Closer), Elijah Kelley (Hairspray) and The Bravery performed to an ecstatic crowd. And as good as they were, I think excessive amounts of alcohol had a lot to do with their excitement.

As the night came to a close, I couldn’t help but think that maybe being a celebrity wouldn’t be as fun as it seems. People were running up to Lauren Conrad and sticking cameras in her face even when she said no pictures. And she was sick! It seemed like a lot of them had to jump out of cars, back into cars, flash bulbs going off everywhere…it all just seemed so—fake and empty. And annoying. Therefore, I think I’ll stay anonymous for the time being. Thank you very much.

My Dating Type...this is too funny.

The Priss Deliberate Brutal Love Dreamer (DBLD) Mature. Responsible. Aristocratic. Excuse me. The Priss. Prisses are the smartest of all female types. You're highly perceptive, and confident in your judgements. You'd take brutal honesty over superficiality any time--your friends always know where they stand with you. You're completely unfake. Don't tell me that's not a word. You're also excellent at redirecting internal negative energy. These facts indicate people are often intimidated by you. They also fall for you, hard. You have a distant, composed allure that many find irresistible. If only more of them lived up to your standards. You were probably the last among your friends to have sex. And the first to pretend that you're pregnant. LOL. Though you're inclined to use sex as weapon, at least it's not as one of mass destruction. You're choosier than most about your partners. A supportive relationship is what you're really after. Whether you know it or not, you need something steady & long-term. And soothing. Your exact female opposite: The Playstation Random Gentle Sex Master Always avoid: The Playboy (RGSM), The Loverboy (RGLM) Consider: The Manchild (RBLD)

Link: The Online Dating Persona Test | OkCupid - personals | Dating My profile name: : angelina85-85

Saw this on fashionista and wanted to share the wealth:



It reminds me of my hair before I straighten it. It's pretty fantastic.

Enjoy!

I'm Not a Zombie, Not Yet a Woman

After falling fast asleep at 8pm last night and not waking up until 7:30 this morning—I think I’m finally feeling less like a zombie. It was amazing. One second I was reading The Concise Guide to Magazine Marketing and the next minute my alarm was going off. I didn’t even hear my roommate come in. I think my body was telling me something…

I guess I still owe you guys LA or Bust: Part Two. I’ll work on that in a bit. First I want to share some observations on my new job at Anthropologie. Or “Anthro” as I’m supposed to call it now.

I started a few weeks ago. It’s a fun job, for the most part. I like the girls I’m working with. It’s fun to look through all the clothes and home stuff. The not so fun part is closing the store—which involves folding each and every piece of clothing and making sure EVERYTHING is perfect. It takes pretty much forever and a day. Unfortunately that is usually what I end up doing, due to the fact that I have a full time job during the day. There is also a whole different language I’m supposed to use while I’m working. Instead of using the ladies room, I use the “conference room.” If I see someone suspicious, I alert other associates by asking them to “help my friend Nick (or Nicky)” over the walkie. Everyone is so perky. It’s actually a little like working at Disney again. Overall, not a horrible place to pick up an extra four to five hundred a month. But I could see it getting old very fast.

I’m also almost done putting together my furniture. Before I fell asleep last night I almost finished my desk. After that, all I have to do is put together my dresser. I’m hoping I don’t ruin anything…

Of Falafel and Moving Men

I think I’ve felt like breaking down and moving home more in the last two weeks than my entire time in New York combined.

First, the bed bugs have forced me out of my Upper East Side apartment and into a much roomier place in Williamsburg. It’s much nicer than my old building. I have a huge window, a roof, and I feel like I can actually breath without the floor squeaking. There is also a place that sells AMAZING falafel right down the street. While I am extremely thrilled to be out of my old apartment, the time leading up to the move can be best described as Hades. I couldn’t sleep because I felt like the bugs were crawling on me (they weren’t, but the mind can play extremely cruel tricks), my roommates were cold because I was moving out and they weren’t too hip on that idea (but, come on people…I’m not living with insects. I was paying 1500 a month for third world country conditions. No thank you.), and I was just…tired. Constantly tired. Incredibly tired. I couldn’t think right I was so tired. It took an entire weekend of sleep (and a manicure) to get me back to half way human.

On top of that, I’ve been sick. Which usually happens to me this time of year, but it was tragically horrible timing. It started the day I got back from LA. I started feeling a slight twinge in my throat and I couldn’t keep my eyes open. This rapidly escalated into a full-blown cold. It was disgusting.

So I’ve been feeling horrible. My head has been muddled. And I’ve been having to act like a grown up anyway.

Life sucks.

Well, until my Ikea furniture is put together anyway.

Rooming Situation Continued: PLEASE VOTE!

Okay…in lieu of the second portion of my Emmy story (I’m writing another article for Patrol on the actual party and I’ll post a link asap) I have something of more immediate importance to discuss with all of you: my living situation.

After writing my last rant about my housing dilemma, three different people got back with me asking me to be their roommates. So now I have a real dilemma. Each place has pros and cons, which I will list below. Please vote for the place you think I would most be at home…

Okay, room number one:

Location: Murray Hill, Manhattan.
Price: $4900 to move in (That’s a deposit, and two months rent) plus a $500 move in deposit (which I would get back after not breaking the elevator as I'm moving in). $1,000 a month, utilities included, except for cable.
Pros: Location is FANTASTIC. It’s 10 minutes to work, 5-10 minutes to Union Square (where I go grocery shopping), and 15 minutes to Anthropologie. It has a doorman, elevator (very awesome in NY!), and I like the girls I would be living with.
Cons: It’s a 2 bedroom converted into a 3 bedroom. Which pretty much means they are putting up walls in the middle of the living room and that’s my room. The closet would be outside of these walls and, while there is heat, there is no air conditioning (and no window to put in a unit).

Room number two:

Location: Williamsburg, Brooklyn
Price: $3,600 to move in (That’s a deposit, and first and last months rent). It’s $1200 plus utilities a month.
Pros: The apartment is so cool. It’s very urban, it has an iron spiral staircase that goes all the way up to the roof. It’s the penthouse, so we get the roof and it has an amazing view of lower Manhattan. I get my own floor of the apartment, and that consists of a very small room in the back and a little larger connected space attached to the staircase and towards the front of the apartment. I also like the girl I would be living with. There is central air and heat.
Con: Location. It’s going to be a 40 minute commute to work and while I would say I could read on the subway—that’s not always the case. It’s usually very crowded and you’re lucky to get a seat or room for a book in front of you. It also doesn’t have a door. So not as much privacy, but I don’t care about that as much. The real con is it is a six floor walk up, which means no elevator and sore legs for a few weeks. The ceilings in my space are also very low.

Room number three:

Location: Long Island City, Queens
Price: $2535 to move in (A deposit and two months rent) It’s $845 a month plus an amenities fee and utilities (about 100) a month.
Pros: It’s an amazing location for the money—15 to 20 minutes to midtown (where I work). It’s also an amazing building. 24-hour concierge, a pool, a fitness center, a roof with an amazing view of Manhattan, a laundry service, free wi-fi, etc. The apartment is great too. Awesome living space. Big kitchen. I’d be living with three other girls from 22-24 who also work in Manhattan. It’s a beautiful area as well. Also—elevator!
Cons: I’d be sharing a room with another girl (the master suite) so we’d get a huge bathroom—but I feel like it might be like college again. Which wouldn’t be so bad I guess. I’m the kind of person who can share a space and be pretty cool with it. But it’s still a little bit of a con because I wouldn’t have as much space. The girl I’d be living with is super sweet and works in marketing too. She also went to school in MI.

So—those are the choices. Let me know what you think!

LA or Bust: Part One

Whenever I want to feel like fall, I eat butternut squash soup. I just got some from this fantastic little soup shop off of 42nd street and it reminds me of what fall would taste like, if fall had a taste. It’s delicious. And it makes me want to carve a pumpkin.

I woke up this morning and kind of felt like someone had run over me with a truck. I didn’t sleep at all on Sunday night because of the after-party and I was in these amazingly masochistic heels that had my feet screaming bloody murder before 1am. But after a while the pangs turned to dull aches, which weren’t so bad. The things we do for beauty.

So, I guess I should just get right down to business: my weekend. Here is a blow-by-blow account and I will upload photos as soon as possible. Some of this stuff you have to see to believe.

On Saturday morning I was picked up by my car service and driven to JFK. When I got there I was instructed to hold a sign that read: TV GUIDE, EMMY RED CARPET WEEKEND at the front doors. This sign was supposed to let clients know, should they miss my huge TV Guide staff badge, that I was someone who could direct them to our private check in. I had some stares. And some puzzled questions from airport personnel. “What’s a red carpet weekend?” was a popular inquiry. Are you serious? I would think. And then politely explain to them what everyone who has had two seconds of American pop-culture exposure has known since…forever.

After all our clients were through, we went through security ourselves. This went surprisingly smoothly. I was just waiting for an airport wide lockdown (that’s what happened the last time I flew through JFK), but alas and alack, we were ushered through with ease. We were then given $60 coupons to buy lunch and snacks for the bus to the hotel in LA. So I got lunch with a friend of mine, Minal. We ordered and ate. It was 11:26 and our flight was at 12. We had some time so I went to buy some magazines and sushi for the plane (I hate airplane snacks. Yuck.) As I am paying for the sushi, I hear: “Last call, flight 217 to Long Beach.” You have got to be kidding me? I think. Shit. I continue to curse in my head as I run through the terminal. I need gate 24. Guess where gate 24 is? Not in this terminal. You have to take a shuttle all the way across to another terminal. And then run all the way across that one to get there. So I ran. I ran and I shook. But I made it…with two minutes to spare.

Safe in the plane I calm down and enjoy my sushi and Vogue. And I watch the Rachel Zoe project marathon on Bravo.

Five and a half hours later we touch down in Long Beach. It is the smallest airport I have ever seen. There are three check-in counters and virtually no walls: it’s practically a tent with airplanes around it. We all deplane, grab our bags, and load into the shuttles. An hour later we’re in LA.

Okay, so LA is pretty much amazing. I would LOVE to live there some day. The weather was impeccable, the views were spectacular, and the people were so much fun to watch. I felt like I was in an alternate universe, like MTV’s The Hills. I’m sure Lauren Conrad was trying to text me that she wanted to meet up at the Kress later and chat about Brody being a jerk…again. I hate my phone—it never works.

We arrived at the hotel (the same one they filmed Pretty Woman in) and I checked in to my room. Or should I say, my private suite. It was HUGE. I had a balcony, a Jacuzzi tub, a 40-inch flat screen, and two giant beds stuffed to the brim with feathers. It was heaven. And just break I needed from the reality of my nasty apartment in New York.

Then we went to dinner. I ordered a California Chardonnay and a lentil and truffle stuffed ravioli. I still maintain, apart from my mother’s lasagna, it was the most delicious Italian meal I have ever eaten. And the Chardonnay was superb. After walking back to the hotel, my co-workers wanted ice cream, so we all went up to the TV Guide hospitality suite and got some. Also…so good. After the wine, the simple carbs, and the sugar, I was done. I kept almost falling asleep and snapping back up—finally they made me go to bed. I felt like a kid, but I didn’t care at that point. I was so tired. I took a bath and went to bed right after asking for a 10am wake up call. My first responsibility wasn’t until 11:30.

The next morning I am wide-awake—at 7:30am (10:30am EST). It was so weird to be up that early without having to force myself to roll out of bed. But I didn’t have to roll out of bed for a while—so I laid there for an hour, snuggling in the sheets. An hour of so later I took another bath. Then I got in the terry cloth rob the hotel had hanging in the bathroom and got back into bed. It was delicious.

All I had to do that day was be around the hospitality suite for an hour and help pass out departure notices. My cousin Perry came to visit me and took me out to lunch—then we went for a walk on Rodeo Dive (which wasn’t all that exciting next to 5th Ave). I just drank in the day. Our hospitality suite was in the top floor penthouse and had access to the roof of the hotel. The view was breathtaking. Perry and I grabbed a few beers and walked up there for an hour of so. The clients weren’t there (they had planned activities like helicopter tours, etc.) so there wasn’t anyone up there to bother. You could also see the Hollywood sign in the hill that everyone always shows in the movies. That was a highlight for me.

As the party got closer and closer I started getting a little nervous. I wasn’t sure what to expect. Before the party, we had a viewing party with the Emmys being streamed live and crazy amounts of food. I’m still not sure who won because I paid no attention…as you will see, this bit me in the butt later on.

Actually, I’ll have to finish this tomorrow! My lunch break is over…stay tuned!

Also--Boots

One more thing:

I've narrowed my fall boot selections to two (no easy task). Which ones do you guys like better?

href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ7NBtBs9fX9jEwmRPUSqHEp287VWGiTElXaOekmq5FzKBj8nHPvEaFG-rWoj44SJB-1kaCgVSfKJsjFXqAg4QIKfOGLZkdCHHu7ZZ-SQ3y2OD1RlHh3CNJavKO8Rf7jVyVSzpEE4LGX3s/s1600-h/Kenneth+Cole.jpg">
Kenneth Cole?



Or Steve Madden?

Please Address my Mail to Central Park...I'll be on the bench by the zoo...

I’ve been looking for an apartment for almost a month now and all I have to say is, “AHHHHHHHH!”

It’s so frustrating. I call. I go see a place. It’s pretty much crap, but that’s what I’m going to get for my 1,000 a month in Manhattan. Plus utilities. Then I say I might be interested—I’m nice, charming, well dressed, not crazy…

AND I NEVER HEAR FROM THEM AGAIN! It’s a little frustrating. Maybe instead of indifference I should respond with, “Please, dear God, let me live with you? I’ll bake you cookies. I’ll do your laundry. I just don’t want to be homeless?”

What do these people want? They are living in hovels. And they want ME to live in hovels with them. And be ecstatically enthusiastic about the prospect. Excuse me for not jumping for joy. Ugh. I think I give up. I’ll live with the hobos in Central Park.

At least that’s free.

Well--except for bribing the police to let me stay after dark…

An Update of Epic Proportions...or as epic as I can get at 4 in the afternoon...

I’m so sorry for my appalling lapse of posting in the last few weeks. Remember all those posts about how my job is sort of boring? Well—the Emmys have made that NOT the case anymore. Combine that with my search for a new apartment—and I barely have time to scarf down the pathetic excuse for sustenance I pack for myself every night. Which is probably a good thing because my boobs are a little big for my dress (which I will be posting a picture of soon—my dress—not my boobs.)

In other news—I think I might have found an apartment. It’s in Williamsburg and it has a fantastic roof/porch/thing. I’m going to look at it on Sunday, so we’ll see. I’ll keep you posted.

I don’t think I ever posted about my trip home to Florida. Man, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? Well, I got my hair chopped off. And I mean CHOPPED OFF. It’s short, people. Not Victoria Beckham at the Marc Jacob’s show short—more like Jennifer Hudson at the Sex and the City premier short. Pictures to come. I also ate SO much. Mom and Dad had EVERY kind of food I could ever want, and I ate it ALL. It was so nice to see them and Sarah. I can’t wait until they come up in October.

I’m trying to think of what else to say. I feel like I’m on autopilot a little bit right now. I work all day. I eat, workout, and sleep at night. Then I get up and do it again until the weekend. But honestly, I’m starting to really like my job. All the nuisances of marketing are starting to make sense and I’m getting the publishing “lingo.” You need edit and creative? Circs and subs? Hell yeah, I can get that for you. Or at least tell you where to get it.

So once I move out of my bedbug/mice invested apartment and settle in somewhere less hostile to human life—my life will be pretty good. I just have to get through this month. Please God…let me get through this month.

Fashion Week EXTRAVAGANZA!

Check out my adventure at Fashion Week at Patrol Magazine: http://www.patrolmag.com/

It was CRAAAZYYY!!!!

XOXO

I'll update more soon.

Attack of the eighties and other sundry updates

Just so everyone knows—I saw a scrunchie today. Yes. Some poor, odd, clueless woman was wearing a white taffeta-looking scrunchie in the Barnes and Noble on 5th Ave. It was really fun to watch people’s reactions. There was mostly pity--although one woman looked like she did a double take. All I have to say is: thank God the eighties are over.

In other news—I’m going to visit my parents in Florida for Labor Day weekend. I’m looking forward to getting my hair done by my trusted stylist Jackie, seeing my cat, and meeting my nephew, Micah. I’m also looking forward to eating a VAT of my mom’s mashed potatoes. I’m sure I’ll be starting a cleanse when I get back to New York. But I’m not thinking about that now.

Also I’m looking for a new apartment. I’m looking in Park Slope and Williamsburg in Brooklyn both because its cheaper than Manhattan and because its an “up and coming” area according to New York Magazine. So, let the apartment hunting begin!

Resolutions and Other Bric-a-Brac

I made a resolution yesterday. Two in fact. And I’m going to share these resolutions with you so you can keep me accountable.

First: I’m going to cook more. I’m sick of Amy’s Organic microwavable meals (as much as I love their tofu brown rice bowls!) and I’m ready to chop my own potatoes, smell the curry adequately before I put it in my mouth, and just enjoy my food. I feel like that preparation process is essential to really experiencing different meals. And I also feel like my personality doesn’t do well with boredom. I’m Italian. I love pleasure. I love spices. I know this. So why don’t I try to take pleasure in all things? And since I HAVE to eat, I might as well start there. So look forward to some good food posts coming soon.

Second: I’m going to learn about wine tasting. I’ve always wanted to. And since I’m getting that job with Anthropologie I’m going to have some extra money. So…I’m going to look into a wine tasting class. And start learning.

So those were my resolutions yesterday. Bug me about them if you notice I’m slacking. ☺

Besides our building fire drill (not as exciting as it sounds), going out to lunch with some sales friends and reading my new favorite blog (www.threelayercake.com) it was a pretty uneventful day. After work I went down to Soho to have my second interview with Anthro and look around. I really love that area—it’s the perfect mixture of old New York and new New York. Culture and class. Quarky and fabulous. When you all come visit me we’ll have to go down there. There is some GREAT shopping. I’m going to go down there with a camera and give you a online “tour” some weekend. I have Fifth Ave. done from the weekend before last, I just have to load them.

So I guess that’s it for today. Keep the faith peeps. I know I am.

My Ride From Hell

Now for the scoop on my hellacious bus fiasco. I hope you’re sitting down.

Let me preface this by saying that my bus ride down to DC from New York was flawless. It was a spacious bus. Big TVs. The bathroom was clean. Overall it was a great experience. In fact, I thought I had found the best Chinatown bus in the world.

Fast forward to the events of Sunday, August 24th, 2008.

I began my travels around 4:10—Alicia, Emily, and Kara drove me to Chinatown attempting to get me on the 5:00 bus. The 5:00 bus for which I had reservations. The 5:00 bus that Chinese people who got there AFTER me got on. The 5:00 bus that ultimately left me behind. The Chinese lady who squashed my dreams summed it up best: “Five o’clock….no,” she barked in her little communist accent.” “YOU…SIX O’CLOCK.” I wanted to squash her face. But I refrained. And instead, I waited.

I waited and waited for that nasty six o’clock bus. My phone was dead. My ipod was dead. I had no book, magazine, or money to buy anything. So I just sat there. While I was looking remarkably like a hobo, I met Dan who was also waiting. He was a self-proclaimed 100% Irish, Korean and would be the only reason I stayed sane for the next SIX HOURS we were cramped onto that ridiculous third-world-country-esque bus of doom.

First, there was no air conditioning for the first few hours. And when someone finally said something to the driver, the bus started making strange sputterings that sounded like a once functioning air-cooling system that had obviously given up on life eons ago. Little spurts of cool air wafted out of the vents—but nothing worth the effort the bus was clearly exerting to produce it. Poor Dan was wearing sweat pants. I would have died if I had on anything more than my sundress. It was sweaty. It was smelly. And we just wanted to open a window. But all we could do was look outside at the beautiful weather through the prison of the glass and pray to God we would survive. There was an emergency exit we considered smashing through—but figured that would only make the situation worse. So we suffered. And tried to distract ourselves from our awful reality by talking about better times.

Then I started noticing that the bus was turning around every now and then. I thought to myself, now that’s odd. Because the last time I checked, we pretty much go in a straight line to get from DC to New York. Not too many curves in the equation. Then I realized, that @&%@ bus driver is @#%&$# lost! A ride that should have taken 4 and a half hours ultimately took six because of a) horrible traffic and b) a bus driver who obviously had no clue what he was doing. I hate incompetence. Especially when I’m paying to be subjected to it.

So I finally got to New York at 12:30. I would have kissed the ground…but it’s New York. That would be gross.

So the moral of the story: there is no safe Chinatown bus. For $35 you could get a vehicle reminiscent of a holocaust transport just as easily as transportation conditions westerners have come to expect as normal. So be wary. And bring a fan just in case.

Weekend Update

My weekend in DC was fabulous. Worth the horrible bus ride home.

Instead of boring you with my commentary, here is the weekend in pictures:


Alicia and I waiting for the metro! We all (Emily, Kara, Alicia and I) decided to get together with Tiffany, Katie and Laura downtown for lunch on Saturday for a day of refreshing girlie chit chat. So here we are waiting for our public transportation. My favorite thing EVER. *sarcasism alert*



Em on the train! I'm not sure what she is doing. But it's pretty interesting. Hehehe.



After lunch we decided to go to the National Portrait Gallery. It was quite interesting--Katie taught us about Cleopatra, I was accosted by a security officer because he was conerned my bag was going to destroy our national heritage, and Emily and I made fun of some guy who died a long time ago so it didn't seem too cruel. Maybe that assesment was wrong. Maybe it was crueler...This is Alicia and Tiff hamming it up.



My chicks diggin' culture...



Introducing Greedy Katie Slowsky Becker. The monkey.



Tiff and I! Looking hot as always...We went to grab some drinks and fries at Five Guys later on in the evening. Girl talk continued.



The end... We had just left Tiffany sadly on the opposite platform in Chinatown. This was the last photo of the day! (Notice the tired but happy auras).

I'm going to post about my bus ride soon. It was a riot. Let me tell you what.

The Best Day

Today was the best day I’ve had since coming to New York. Maybe the best day EVER.

And let me tell you why.

First, I finished the last book of the Twilight series at lunch. And although I felt the normal sweet depression I experience at the end of any book—I’m glad that chapter of my life is behind me. As much as I enjoyed the books, I’m ready for my life back. I’m ready to get back in the game of reality. Life---I’m baaaaaack!

Second, I’ve been doing really well at work for the past two weeks. I had this project that I had to work on last week—I wrote a few paragraphs describing the “TV Guide reader.” The trick was the generalize everyone who reads TV Guide into one fictional person who personified them all. And today I found out I nailed it! They LOVED it and are going to use most of my ideas. Which is nice considering I’ve been feeling like an idiot half the time here because I know absolutely nothing about marketing. But I’m starting to feel like I like this stuff. The creative challenge is right up my alley.

Third—I’ve been babysitting a cat for Alisa—and most of the time it’s really cute. But sometimes I look into it’s eyes and see…the devil. So piece of good news number three--Alisa is coming to get the possessed cat when I get home from work! I’m really glad I could help her—but that cat was crazy.

Fourth—and the real reason this is the best day EVER—I found out today…I’m GOING TO THE EMMY’S!!!! AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! And I found a Roberto Cavalli dress I LOVE I want to wear (check it out: http://www.net-a-porter.com/product/35391). Sadly, it’s really expensive…

I’m in such a good mood I could sing. But don’t worry—my co-workers will be spared that…experience. I’m just going to keep writing my novel until 5:30 and get the heck out of here. Maybe I’ll go shopping!

Or maybe singing’s not such a bad idea…

My Weekend Obessesion

So last Wednesday began innocently enough. I went to work. Clocked in. Watered my plant. Moved the pencils around on my desk. Turned my lamp on. Turned my lamp off when I didn’t like the glare on my computer screen. Check my mail…etc. Everything was normal—until my lunch break. *Insert creepy music here*

Right before lunch, I was reading People Magazine (it’s my job—I have to get to know the competition…obviously) and there was this article on a movie they’re making from this book called Twilight. This isn’t the first I’d heard of the book or the storyline—in fact EVERYONE in my office has read it and talks about it all the time. But, it seemed ridiculous to me…so I stayed out of the Twilight mania fray. But something about the article made me curious. And I was sort of tired of not knowing what the hell my co-workers were talking about—what could possibly engender this crazed frenzy?

So lunch rolled around. I walked to Barnes and Noble. I bought the book.

Fast forward to Thursday—almost 800 pages later. With a haggard expression and dare I say—glint of insanity in my eyes, I buy the next book.

Friday. Jessica spends Thursday night with me after she misses her flight to Africa because of flight delays. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have seen the light of day this weekend. My body thanks you for the vitamin D, Jess… As soon as I drop her off at the airport the book comes out again. I read it all the way home. I continue reading until 3am.

Saturday. I didn’t have to go to work so I didn’t even get out of bed until around 2—reading of course. The only thing that got me out of bed? I finished the second 800 page book. The only thing that motivated me to take a shower, get dressed, and do my hair? I needed the next one. I didn’t realize until I was outside how perfect the day was. I couldn’t stomach going back to my apartment with the weather so fantastic—so I bought the next one and brought it to Central Park. The reading continued until the natural light began to fade and I started to get cold. I also realized I hadn’t eaten all day when my stomach loudly complained of my negligence. I went home and ate left over noodles from when Jess was here—still reading of course. I don’t remember falling asleep—but I woke up the next day with my face burried in my book.

Sunday. I stare at the blurry black ink—too close to my eyes to focus on. My muscles begin to complain from the lack of use in the last few days. I fleetingly think I should go to the gym. I usually go to yoga on Sunday mornings. But the words beckon. I can’t resist. I finish the third book by 4pm. There’s only one thing left to do. I get up. Shower. Do my hair. And walk to Barnes and Noble. For the last time.

I fall asleep around 2am…half way through the last 900 pages. It’s taking all the will power within me not to read the last 450 pages at my desk. Probably not the best idea since Mindy’s here and I actually do have work to do on the Emmy’s today. Sigh. Work. So inconvenient.

Sometimes I wish I had less of an obsessive personality. But then I remember my weekend and realize—that was just too damn fun.

I think I'll go...

Today I figured out something that will undoubtedly come in handy in the next few years I’m at TV Guide.

Nobody knows I’m here.

Now, this is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because I can pretty much do whatever I want, whenever I want as long as I complete the small amount of responsibilities I’m given each day.

It’s a curse because most of the time I am unbelievably bored.

I don’t think I have ever been so up to date of celebrity gossip and fashion. I read every blog I can get my hands on and I even started really writing for this one.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my job when I have things to do. Most of the time it’s pretty cool stuff. But during the down time, sometimes I just feel invisible in my little cubicle (Actually, it’s more of a medium sized cubicle, I guess). I left for two hours today and no one in my department batted an eye. The only people who said anything were Juanita (an awesome black lady who knows EVERYTHING who sits on my right) and my two friends in the Sales department who sort of winked at me when I came in an hour late from my lunch break.

Now—for the reason of my uncharacteristically late lunch. I took the train down to Soho to apply at Anthropologie. It was the only time I could go—and Mindy is on vacation today—so I did it. And I get 40% off! And they like to work with “part-timers!” And I get 40% off!

Life is starting to get good again.

Taxi...pitches?

I realized today on my way to work that taxi horns are all in a minor key. Strange, no?

Earphones and the City

It’s 2:00 in the afternoon and the noise down on 42nd hasn’t stopped since 8:30 this morning.

You gotta love New York City.

It actually started yesterday before I left work. Noise—beyond that created when Miley Cyrus visited Bryant Park a few weeks ago—started to invade my warm cocoon of quietude up here on the 17th floor of the Tishman Speyer building around 4:00pm. Every few minutes the screaming would begin accompanied by a few moments of quiet. Then—AHHHHHHH!!!!!! Then quiet. Then—AHHHHHHHH!!!!!! It was incessant. I walked outside around 5:30 and there they all were…clad in Jonas Brothers t-shirts and ready to spend the night in the park to get the best seats. They were some crazy 13 year-olds. I didn’t even do that for NSYNC and I LOVED NSYNC.

So this morning I got to work and the screaming hadn’t stopped. And it didn’t stop until 10AM, when the sleep-deprived hormone-driven teenagers meandered home to fall asleep with their new “OMG!” moments to treasure. In my opinion, GMA needs to find a better—less professional—area to host the Jonas Brothers next time. I couldn’t hear myself think.

But—hey—who am I kidding? I liked the excuse to peer out the window and watch the concert myself. Those kids are pretty cute. Not worth sleeping with nature—but cute.

Then—when I thought all was safe and I could begin working on those expenses I have been dreading since yesterday—another hullabaloo began. This time the noise was less teenybopper love and more United States Government hate. The AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! turned into more of a OHHHHHH!!!!! And instead of a few minutes of quiet and then screaming again it turned into a beat. It was like: dadadada (a second pause) DADA!!!!!
Over and over and over again.

It turned out it was a protest of our involvement in the Olympics. Apparently the Chinese haven’t been on the up and up with human rights. Especially with Tibet. Big surprise, huh?

That lasted for at least three hours. Three very long hours.

And then—quiet. Or so I thought.

And then the drums began. Bum budda bum budda bum bum bum. I still have no idea what this was for—perhaps a remnant of the Tibet protest? Or homeless bums? I guess I’ll never know for sure. What I do know is I lost two more hours of my life wondering when that cacophony would stop.

I guess the moral of this story—I need to buy better earphones. I hear Bose has a good pair…any suggestions?

Realizations

This past weekend was all about realizations. I realized just how long it will be before I’m laughing and dancing with my dearest friends again. I realized how much those friends mean to me. And most importantly, I realized what is most important in life.

Let me start by saying, the weekend surpassed any of my expectations. The venues were perfect. The dresses were perfect. The food was perfect. I guess the word “perfect” describes Tiffany and Aaron’s wedding…perfectly. It was gorgeous. She was gorgeous. She was so gorgeous I cried.

One of my favorite parts of the wedding was holding Tiffany’s train while we were walking to the chapel. She looked so ready for this next stage of her life and I found myself wondering if I will ever feel about a guy the same way she feels about Aaron. There were no “dating games” in their relationship. There was no waiting three days to call or feigned indifference (at least not when they were officially dating ☺ ). They were just soul achingly and heart wrenchingly in love. And watching Aaron look at Tiffany walk down that aisle—I have no doubt he will treasure and love her until his last breath. Witnessing that kind of love—that kind of devotion—that kind of raw purity in a relationship makes me wonder if it will ever come along for me. I have to believe it will. And until it does, I’m just going to be happy that couples like Aaron and Tiffany are around to remind me of what is possible when you focus on God and let him lead a relationship.

I also realized how much I really miss my friends from Hillsdale. Sitting around until 2am talking about the newest Vogue and other sundry girlie topics—I could almost transport myself back to the Whitley basement. I had so much fun; from our wild Bachelorette party to taking off our shoes and dancing to “Dancing Queen” at the reception—I think I laughed and cried more in two days than I have since graduation. And it was so hard to let go at the end of it all. Realizing we’re all in different places in our lives and things will never be the same is difficult. I almost want to go back in time and shake myself—why didn’t I appreciate these precious relationships more when they were right in front of me? I guess the Yellow Taxi song says it best. You really don’t appreciate things until they’re gone. And my days at Hillsdale are gone now. I’ll miss that place--and the people who made it live--so much.

Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you got till it's gone
They paved paradise and put up a parkin' lot

A little confused...

Because I am THAT bored at work here's another post for today.

Yesterday I got flowers. One dozen red roses--and I’m not sure how I feel about this.

One of part of me is a little confused. We’ve only been on three dates. Isn’t one dozen long stemmed roses a little much for a relationship of a few weeks? Maybe it’s not. Maybe I’m reading too much into this (as I often do) but I don’t want him to think this is more than it really is. What does one dozen red roses mean? I love you? I hope not. I miss you? I guess that wouldn’t be too bad. I want more? Ha.

The other part of me is just happy to get one dozen long stemmed red roses. I love flowers. They look nice in my room. I like the smell.

I hate dating. It’s too complicated. I’m going to mail order a Russian husband and get this whole process over with.

Fun times ahead

Now for something a little less...narrative. For those of you who asked me about my last post—it was half true—half not so true. True—I did friend my middle school crush last week, I did feel weird the next morning, I did get an awkward message from him, and I have followed him into a bathroom in the past. What’s not true--my psyche is not fragile (most of the time) and I don’t hate Clive (although his keyboard IS falling apart). I was just bored at work and wanted to make the whole experience more interesting. Sorry if I confused you.

In other news--
Today I’m driving down to Maryland for Aaron and Tiffany’s wedding and i’m so excited to feel comfortable again.

I haven’t been comfortable in a while. A new environment, new friends, new job---all of these exciting—but stressful—experiences have been a constant for the last two months. I’m starting to get the hang of things but it will be really nice not to have to try to be friends with someone—and just be friends with people who really know me. I’m also excited for the wedding! From what I hear it’s going to be beautiful.

So all I have to do is get through today—get on a bus—and cruise my way to good friends and a good time.

Fun times ahead.

The morning after...

It’s time for the walk of shame.

Slowly my eyes open to let in some light. I know something’s different—the feeling in the pit of my stomach signals something is amiss. I swing my legs around, rubbing my eyes and willing my mind to recall last night’s horrors. What could I have done to warrant this barrage of shame?

And then I remember.

I glance down at my bed. There he is. Asleep.

Crap.

I reach over and pick up his thin frame. He’s cold. It’s a 180-degree change from last night. We were up all night. And he was burning me up…

“Clive—wake up,” I command. Nothing. Frantically, I punch his buttons. “Wake up!”

Finally the little apple lights up and the Macintosh song begins—usually something I love to hear. Now something I just want to shut up.

I open my Internet browser—nervously hit my facebook short cut and wait for the inevitable. I can’t believe I did it. I can’t believe I actually did it. Did I really do it?

And there it is. The most awkward facebook message I have ever received. The fruit of my folly. The consequence of my self-perceived invincibility. Why, oh, why did I feel the need to face my past like this?

The message: “Hi…um…I think I remember you…didn’t you follow me into the men’s bathroom once? You were so weird!”

Why I felt compelled to facebook friend my middle school crush I will never know. Maybe I wanted him to know that while he was flipping burgers—I was in NYC. And while he was probably still the cutest boy on the planet—I wasn’t too bad myself. And after years of following him (sometimes into the men’s restroom) I was now a sophisticated woman who didn’t need to follow anyone, anywhere. Well…not usually anyway.

I hate facebook. I hate Alfredo. And right now, I hate my laptop, that my college friends affectionately (or not so affectionately) named Clive.

I close my laptop with a bang. I don’t need some creepy restaurant manager wanna-be messing with my already fragile psyche. The last thing I need right now is to relive middle school.
And then I realize I haven’t had my coffee. Something tells me this will be a lot less of an issue with a skinny vanilla latte in my hands. After all—his name is Alfredo. He’s had it rough too. Maybe I should cut him some slack?

A Whole New World

I think I just died and went to heaven.

A very fashionable heaven.

A chat with my mom last night left me with a concept I didn’t even know existed: New York Sample sales.

Me: “Everyone is so stylish here…I have no idea how they do it with the cost of living! It’s so intimidating.”

Mom (who lives in Florida): Well, do you go to the sample sales?

Me: The what sales?

Mom: The sample sales. I read about it in the newspaper. Let me go get it…(rummaging)…oh yes…here it is. Designer clothes for 60-80 percent off. They even have…Chanel.

Me: *Gasp*

Mom: Yes, it’s true. They also have….

But I hear no more. I begin to envision myself walking down the street head to toe in double Cs. It was magical.

Then when I got to work today I looked up “nyc sample sales” in google and a myriad of links yielded breathless wonder after breathless wonder. What have I been missing all my life? How could I live anywhere else after this life changing discovery? Chanel…you are now within my grasp…

Thank God for New York City. Thank God for sample sales. And most of all—thank God for Chanel.

I was randomly talking to a girl on the subway yesterday and she said something to me that took me by surprise.

She said, "Brooklyn is the new Manhattan!"

Really? I thought. Now I don't have excessive experience in Brooklyn, but in the time I have spent there (a week when I first got to New York and few nights here and there hanging out with friends) I have never got that impression. Don't get me wrong. I like Brooklyn. I think it has a character and a laissez-faire attitude not found in Manhattan. People in Brooklyn give off this "I just don't give a shit" aura that people in Manhattan normally just can't pull off. They're wearing too many labels. It's a fun, bohemian experience that is a refreshing respite from the Manhattan bustle and intense energy. That's why I was so taken aback by what I heard in the subway. Why would anyone want Brooklyn to turn into Manhattan? It's great the way it is. I guess the point of this post--don't mess with a good thing. Brooklyn in Brooklyn. Manhattan is Manhattan. And I like it that way.

The funniest thing...EVER

Everyone...if you have cable you HAVE to watch Flipping Out. I'm laughing so hard I can't move right now. It's amazing. I can't...I just don't have words. Watch it. You'll know what I'm talking about.

Bravo--TONIGHT--New episode at 10pm.

"It's really hard to walk in a single woman's shoes -- that's why you sometimes need really fabulous shoes!”--Carrie

It's so funny--here in Manhattan a new breed of man has evolved. He's not available anywhere else in the world. He's Manhattan Man.

Completely self-involved, impeccably groomed (complete with manicures and pedicures), they say things like "ciao" and "fabulous"--but they aren't gay. They know everything there is to know about next season's Yves Saint Laurent neon collection, where to find the best gladiator sandals, and which spas are the best for oxygen facials--all while being completely heterosexual. Manhattan Man is this very strange hybrid--a gay shopping buddy who is interested in women at the end of the day. Strange, right? And this kind of strange a girl can get used to!

"I like my money right where I can see it: hanging in my closet." --Carrie

I open the door of my apartment building every morning and jump into the stream of people heading toward the downtown 77th street subway. The people tend to be the same--yuppie twenty somethings with Starbucks in hand and the latest fashions. In fact, every morning I am more and more mortified by my dated clothes. Next month I'll probably spend my grocery money on some skinny jeans, high waisted pencil skirts and some designer giant sunglasses. Getting over my mortification, I plunge into the flow, fighting for my spot in the fray. Besides the fashion--the smells on the street are what I notice most. The produce stand guy smells like bananas and body oder, the bagel place I pass every day smells like warm flour and the guy next to me smells like Axe. I love Axe. :)

Once I get to the subway, I'm ready to get down to business. I have my magazine--so I sit--pretending to indulge in The Best Workouts for Your Body Type and instead I watch people. This morning there was an old woman who looked like she could have been visiting Queen Elizabeth--pearls, floor length floral dress (at 8am) and a designer crystal cane--she hunches over taking ten seconds to take one step (which is very slow in New York time). A father guides his two children dressed in collared navy polos, a hippie with dreads bobs his head to imaginary music, and no one makes eye contact. But this doesn't mean people aren't friendly. I just think with the amount of people you come in contact with everyday, eye contact is exhausting. The rest of the world gives New Yorkers a bad name--which can be deserved--but most of the time just simply isn't true. I've been in lost twice while I have been here, and both times people have stopped to help me before I've even asked. That's way better than what I've gotten in other cities...

Work is busy. My bosses talk about Miley, Jessica, Brittany, and Anne like they are old friends. And for all I know they are. It's a little crazy. I got Season Three of Lost today--ABC sent it to Mindy after she ran one of their ads in the magazine. She didn't want it. That worked for me. I might be flying to PA for some training and LA to assist at our Emmy party--so I'm looking forward to that. I love travel. But not as much as Axe. ;)

I guess that's my update for now. I need to go chillax before I fall asleep--and do it all over again tomorrow.