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.