Pedi-cast-mobile

New Yorkers don't let a broken leg stop them from their standard pedestrian routines.



A Year Ago Today: The View from Brooklyn
Two Years Ago Today: Pigeon Hole

Diaroogle.com

My growing New Yorker experience has led me to believe that the cleanest public restrooms in New York City are on the 42nd Street side of Bryant Park between Fifth and Sixth Avenues. But if you find yourself having to tinkle beyond walking distance of what I have deemed to be the cleanest public restrooms in the city, fear not.

Thanks to Thrillist.com, I can spread the word about Diaroogle.

Wherever you go, you'll find people whose passions spill into their responsibilities -- like the artsy barista who creates a four-toned masterpiece out of the specials chalkboard, or the taxi driver well versed in unexpected points of interest, like your destination. For accessible restrooms and so much more, try Diaroogle.com.

D's a G-map, blog, and ratings system "for the discerning, on-the-go defecator who is brave enough to use a public bathroom, but still demands a hygienic and private bathroom experience". Beyond excelling at ingress strategies, it shows promise of becoming a guide to both host establishments, and even general NY lifestyle. Some high/lowlights (rating based on cleanliness/accessibility/privacy):

Waldorf Astoria's Bull & Bear 570 Lexington Ave, at 51stRating: 4.67 of 5 This wizened patrician's haunt sports luxe lavs (floor-to-ceiling wooden stalls, marble floors, gold faucets) accessible from the street, though proper attire's required to get inside. Once re-zipped, the site editor claims the bar's also "a great place to meet classy and very attractive hookers. Is it weird I feel flattered when I'm propositioned by good-looking hookers?? How low is my self-esteem?"

SoHo Made Soups 75 Varick St, at GrandRating: 3.33 of 5This relatively clean, freely accessible, low-traffic pisser supports a shop that tosses excellent salads, but offers inept morning breakfast service: "When you order an egg and cheese in the morning, the cashier opens up the tinfoil with his dirty fingers to see what you ordered. Hey idiots: Have the cook write the order on the wrapper like every other deli on earth."

Lupes110 6th Ave, at BroomeRating: 1.33 of 5 This deplorably unkempt, oppressively tiny bathroom's only plus is a mysterious "Stolen Baby on Board" sticker on the lid's underside. However, the Spinach and Cheese Enchiladas are apparently the bomb.

Limited to Manhattan now, Diaroogle plans to expand to the outer boroughs and then go national. They also take user submissions, so fire away if you're responsibilities include working, and your passion is not working.

Get the straight poop at Diaroogle.com

A Year Ago Today: No post
Two Years Ago Today:
"Fast" Is An Understatement
Taxi Cab Rights

Quotation of Whenever - Financial Bailout

From NYTimes.com's Today's Headlines:
"The situation is like that movie trailer where a guy with a deep, scary voice says, ‘In a world where credit markets are frozen, where banks refuse to lend to each other at any price, only one man, with one plan can save us.’"
JARED BERNSTEIN, of the Economic Policy Institute, on the push for a financial bailout.

The national financial crisis is very much in our faces here in the city, particularly when so many of us have family, friends and roommates working in finance, from constant top headlines in our dailies to the subtle - perhaps unintentional -foreshadowing in a scene from "Sex and the City: The Movie" where a cover of New York Magazine's "Is New York's Real Estate Bubble About to Pop?" lies atop Carrie's feature issue of Vogue. Even a friend was able to negotiate his rent down $200 when he renewed his lease this month.

I suppose old clichés are clichés for the simple fact that they never fail to repeat. What goes up must come down.
Not a quote of the day, week or month. Just of whenever. Until the next quote that moves me.

A Year Ago Today: Manhattan Real Estate
Two Years Ago Today: Burning the Late Night Oil

United Nations-Related Traffic Delays

During the past week, you were more likely in New York City to receive a company-wide email, which may have been some variation of the following:

The shuttle van service [between our three corporate locations] is not running on time due to increased traffic in/around the UN/Clinton event, which is ending this Friday.

A Year Ago Today:
Gina's Front Stoop
Barack in Washington Square
Starting Line-Up (Happy One-Year Anniversary to the H&M on 42nd and Fifth)
"Things I Love" Thursdays - Lox (And Happy One-Year Anniversary to "Things I Love" Thursdays on BNY)
Two Years Ago Today:
America's Top Air Mattress
Infamattress

Quotation of Whenever - Yankee Ghosts

"The new stadium is beautiful, but I don’t know if the ghosts are going to be there. You can feel that, standing here — Babe Ruth, DiMaggio. It’s not going to be the same."
ALEX ALICEA, a Yankees fan from Union City, N.J.

This was a fitting "Quotation of Whenever" since I first wrote about Yankees fans two years ago today. I'm glad I was able to experience a game in the House that Ruth Built before it's gone.
Not a quote of the day, week or month. Just of whenever. Until the next quote that moves me.

A Year Ago Today: The Good Job
Two Years Ago Today:
Yankee Fans
Yankee Stadium

You Want to Go Where Everybody Knows Your Name

Yesterday Natasha and I were sprawled on our couch immediately after work - already in pajamas - when the infamous promoter text messages began to beep in. One after the other. Like clockwork. We ignored one after the other, absent-mindedly deleting them as they came. But one prompted me to read it out loud: "Hey katie! Tonight jermaine dupri bday party @ tenjune + dinner at [restaurant eradicated to preserve the promoter's identity since I'm about to bash the mass text messaging strategy that he and other promoters enlist]."

I do not mind mass text messages from promoters. Sometimes they lead us to fabulous evenings. Sometimes they are fruitless promises of open bars and celebrity-infested affairs. But I absolutely despise when promoters send out mass text messages - which most of my friends receive at the same time because we all know most of the same promoters - and then resend it with "Hey katie!" at the beginning to make it seem like a personal, private invitation.

Promoters, I know you sent the same bait out to reel in dozens of beautiful women. I do not need to feel like I have an exclusive invitation to a nightclub to motivate me to respond. Honestly, I don't want to go to something to which only I - with my personalized text message invitation - was invited. I can drink alone at home and usually in my underwear with a bag of chips, a pint of ice cream, a spoon and a greasy napkin; I don't want to go somewhere that no one else was invited because it was so exclusive that you only invited me.

I find "exclusiveness" to be the most incredible, contradictory cliché. Many want to go to the most "exclusive" places, but we're only happy when the most "exclusive" places are packed to the brim. Perhaps "exclusivity" implies a night of multiple celebrity sightings. I am certainly guilty of the star struck-ism. I won't deny that I have seen Sarah Jessica Parker walk into the GRACE building on 42nd Street with TMZ cameras in tow (at 2:11pm on September 23, 2008) and stopped dead in my tracks to gawk, text my girlfriends and send an update to Twitter (which I recently joined despite my personal affirmation to avoid signing up for yet another online social networking site).

But bobbing my head in a nightclub full of celebrities, like Natasha and I did last night at Tenjune, is not always everything that it is cracked up to be. While we had an above-average good time drinking and dancing with each other, nights like that can sometimes leave me feeling pretty dull when I wake up the next morning. Even when reviewing the photo I took with Coco and Ice-T on my digital camera - which I finally had the courage to do after a few standard Vodka Sodas at our promoter's table - and others I shamelessly took of Irv Gotti and Busta Rhymes, who were all at tables immediately adjacent ours, I ultimately realize that I always have the most fun when I'm out with my girlfriends in a sea of no-name faces. The photos felt lame. I studied them for a moment and wondered why so many of us ask to take photos with people who have no idea who we are.

It was not as if we were unwillingly being fed to sharks.

But there is a conventional emptiness that often follows parties like those when you reflect on the type of night you had - yet duly realize your role: that no one in attendance cared whether you were there or not. You gained entrance through a promoter who was hired to market you as a glorified seat filler to take up the empty space between celebrities.

Sometimes you really just want to go where people know, people are all the same. You want to go where everybody knows your name.

A Year Ago Today: To Aspiring Transplants
Two Years Ago Today: Six Degrees of NYC

The British Are Coming Settled In

Walking home today, I noticed that the British had already redecorated.


A Year Ago Today:
[No] SubTalk
Weekend Recap
Two Years Ago Today: Magnolia Bakery

Stilettos Versus Strollers

My friends in North Carolina and other old connections from my days as a military brat have recently (and when I say recently, I mean within the past few years) begun posting pictures of their children on facebook and myspace. It often makes me wonder what I've missed over the past 10 years since high school (and the five since college). With Halle Berry and J.Lo having their first children in their 40s, I certainly do not feel old at 28 nor do I feel in any rush. But I still consider the conscious decisions I've made to redirect my course away from marriage and motherhood. For example, breaking up with Matt after high school instead of getting married like many of our classmates did. Pushing back Rickey's discussions of marriage proposals in 2002. Or moving to New York in 2006 instead of Atlanta, where Terrence lives in the off-season. Or choosing not to live abroad with him in the exciting foreign countries in which he has made homes.

I've had three serious relationships in 12 years and dozens of forgettable encounters in between, and I've always consciously fought to keep my own path. But am I subconsciously fighting something else? Am I afraid that I am too selfish to even fathom decisions between having my own space or incorporating His and Hers towels? Or researching family-size cars and learning how to make more than Ramen Noodles or my awesome signature salads? Or have I naively and stubbornly assumed that I've already had my one great love? Or have I just not found "the one"? Will "the one" understand my needs to be just a "me" and parallel my path until I'm ready to be an "us"?

Today the other executive assistants and I overheard our Executive Beauty Director scolding her children via the speaker phone in her office while reviewing RFPs. It was entertaining to witness a corporate woman, who is the epitome of grace under pressure while pitching advertising packages, unravel into a soccer mom right before our very eyes. Ah. The multiple hats we learn to wear.

Rather than pull out the mommy hat that I willingly allow to gather dust on the shelf next to my biological clock, I rounded out my week by dining at Buddakan and partying at Butter on Monday night, attending a New York Women in Film & Television screening of The Women at Clearview Chelsea Cinema on Wednesday (with my girlfriends, of course, where we sipped wine and ate tiny, crustless sandwiches). Then, I accepted a spontaneous invitation to join my secret service buddy and his friends for dinner at Brick NYC, a brand new Italian wine and antipasti bar that opened recently in Tribeca. Instead of calling a babysitter to tell her I'd be late - which is what mature, settled, family-oriented women my age do - I was sending "Gossip Girl" text messages to a few friends containing a phone picture I had just taken of Danny Masterson in his trademark bowler hat seated a few tables away.

For documentation purposes, of course:


Will K ever pack up her single gal city life and trade it for diapers and family packages of Hamburger Helper? That's one secret that is too soon to tell. You know you love me. XOXO ... Gossip Girl ...

A Year Ago Today: No post
Two Years Ago Today: It Gets Late Awfully Early Around Here

"Things I Love" Thursdays - Neighborly Advice

I love that there are things you would only know about a neighborhood by living there.

A few months ago, I received the following tips from CityWendy regarding our Hell's Kitchen neighborhood. As I've continued to feel more settled in my new home, I thought I'd share what she shared about the neighborhood we share.

- The cold and hot bars in the Amish Market Westside on Ninth Avenue between 49th and 50th Streets is discounted by 50% per pound after 8pm each day. Less than $5, for example, can get you baked chicken, lasagna or a salad.
- Vitners Market, down Ninth Avenue from the Amish Market has the most amazing - though not cheap - cheese and fancy beer. They have generous cheese samples, and if you try them all, you won't even need lunch.
- The ValuePaks received in your mailbox every few weeks contain local coupons, such as $5 off purchases of $50 or more at Westerly Natural Market on Eighth Avenue at 54th Street..
- Roberto Passon on the corner of 50th and Ninth features the best weekend brunch drink special in the 'hood: All-you-can-drink bellinis, bloody marys, mimosas and screwdrivers for $8 every Saturday and Sunday from 12:30 to 3:30pm.
- Orchid Caribbean/Soul Cuisine Restaurant on Ninth Avenue at 46th Street is a favorite of CityWendy. Though she forewarns of slow service, she'll attest that the food and the drinks (try the Passion Margarita) are "SO worth it." It is operated by a couple, who do all the cooking, serving and bartending themselves. Be sure to try the macaroni and cheese.
- The Clinton Community Garden on 48th between Ninth and Tenth is an adorable, little oasis. It has a quaint gazebo and benches surrounded by curtains and fountains of flowers. Keys to the garden are given to neighborhood residents on the first Tuesday and Saturday of the month.- The Hell's Kitchen Flea Market is a popular city fixture every Saturday and Sunday of the year on 39th between Ninth and Tenth.
"Things I Love" Thursdays are inspired by "I Love New York" (BNY, February 14, 2007).

A Year Ago Today: Flower Power
Two Years Ago Today: No post

Getting Over Yourself

From another New York City blogger:
How to Get Over Restless Life Syndrome

When I experienced my quarter life crisis, I meticulously packed up my North Carolina life over the course of a year and exchanged it on a hot August day for a new one in New York City.

The jury is still out on whether or not this was my personal cure-all. Unfortunately, it won't likely be it. New York City can't solve all my problems. In fact, for many, it creates more than it resolves.

However, there is no place I'd rather "revel in them" than in the streets of Manhattan.

A Year Ago Today: Subway Laps
Two Years Ago Today:
Bringing Down the House
Stealth Bomber Sighting & Girls' Night Out

Starry Nights

On a Monday in New York City, you're more likely to party at tables in Butter adjacent Leonardo DiCaprio, Evan Ross and Baron Davis.

And you realize you would never have noticed Leonardo, Evan or Baron if a zealous club promoter hadn't pointed them out to you. And then you wonder as you squeeze your lime into your Vodka Soda, is Leonardo attractive just because he's famous?

He went up at least 10 points in celeb-crush potential when I learned he drove a Prius.

A Year Ago Today: This Weekend's Round 2
Two Years Ago Today: No post

A Quick Peek Forward & a Short Look Back

Tonight is dinner with friends at Buddakan. Yum!

In the meantime ...
A Year Ago Today: Spotlight Live & Etc of Round 1
Two Years Ago Today: No post

Saturday NYC Adventures

Saturday marked the impromptu start of a new tradition when Ra, crashing for a few days on our couch, woke up and said to Natasha, "What should we do today?"

After researching a variety of Saturday-in-New-York options via the World Wide Web, we decided to rent bicycles in Central Park. If you have never done this and have the opportunity to do so, I highly recommend it.



Oh, the places you'll go ...

Tune in next week for our next Saturday NYC Adventure!

A Year Ago Today: Times Square Mimes

Two years Ago Today: Real Estate Depression

Poor Lehman

Those are two words I never thought I'd put together.

I've been getting the inside scoop from a friend who works at Lehman Brothers regarding the financial meltdown on Wall Street. You can likely find him and his coworkers drinking away their sorrows in $1 beer spots around the city. To quote his email, "The media is outside now taking pictures of our sad, little faces."

And walking home from work tonight, there they were, camped out for front row seats of the annihilation.


A Year Ago Today: Flying Back to New York on 9/11
Two Years Ago Today: The Little Things

Where Does Time Go?

I am always surprised when I realize how much time has passed since the tragedies of 9/11. I imagine that the families and friends who lost a loved one must repeatedly face the same grim realizations of the passage of time, where we coexist in two places: one that feels so far from that last word, look, touch that you can't remember what it feels like to actually know them; and another where certain moments feel like you can graze them with your fingertips.

I feel that way when I remember Rickey.

On a doorway in Queens

A Year Ago Today: No post
Two Years Ago Today: Wake Us Up When September Ends

My First Encounter with the FDNY

While Natasha and I were watching this week's NetFlix pick, a "reminder of why we should just continue ordering in" set off our First Alert Carbon Monoxide Detector, which - up until this evening - we had thought was a smoke alarm. And which - up until this evening - we had not realized we did not have.

In any case, after 20 minutes of silencing the alarm - only to have it continue to go off every few minutes, sliding different parts of it in and out, calling my dad for advice, opening all the windows, and running the air conditioner full blast, we decided to call the FDNY to our rescue.

Unfortunately, our Manhattan Yellowpages phonebook referred us from "Fire Department" to "Emergency" to "Medical Services" with no listing for the fire department that we pass everyday walking down 8th Avenue. And none of the numbers we found on Google.com seemed to be getting us through to anyone of authority. So after much debate over whether I should dial 911 without a raging fire, a severed leg or a carving knife embedded in my neck, I pressed 9-1-1 into my cell phone, gulped and hit Send.

911 Operator: 9-1-1. What's your location?
Me: [Address eradicated]
911 Operator: You're between Eighth and Ninth Avenues?
Me: Yes.
911 Operator: Thank you. What's your emergency?
Me: [in my head: oye, it's not really an emergency per se] I'm actually trying to call a fire department in our neighborhood to ask someone to check our carbon monoxide alarm.
911 Operator: Ok. You have to connect to the fire department through 9-1-1. I'll patch you through.
Me: Thank you.

Fire Department Dispatch: New York Fire Department
Me: Hi, I'm calling because our carbon monoxide detector has been going off for awhile even though we have ventilated our apartment.
Fire Department Dispatch: No problem. We can definitely help you with that. What's your location?
Me: [Address eradicated]
Fire Department Dispatch: And you're between which avenues?
Me: Eighth and Ninth.
Fire Department Dispatch: We'll send someone right over.
Me: Thank you.

I walked back out to the living room, where Natasha was still poking and proding our molested carbon monoxide detector, which was continuing to warn us to "Move to Fresh Air". Then we waited, assuming that a small fire fighter pick-up truck with a few axes and a step ladder on the back was going to show up at some point. Instead, within minutes, we heard wailing sirens and saw flashing red lights dancing on our bedroom walls.

"Oh my God," Natasha said. "That's for us."

"No, it's not!" I exclaimed as we raced to my bedroom window and saw this (two fire trucks and about a dozen first responders):


Seconds later, four fire fighters in full gear, complete with hard hats, fire-retardant coats, oxygen tanks and axes had hiked to our fifth floor apartment and sauntered into our living room, where Natasha was peering at them from the couch, and I was leaning against the kitchen counter eating a bowl of rice. As I lamented over the fact that they had just climbed four flights of stairs in heavy gear, I couldn't help but wonder if we should feign carbon monoxide disorientation and dizziness to at least make the whole embarrassing scene look like a real emergency.

In a prompt and professional manner, they took carbon monoxide readings in our rooms, reset our carbon monoxide detector and taught us how to use it. And with a tip of their hats, they were off into the night to save the Manhattanites with real emergencies.

As I watched the taillights of the fire trucks disappear, I heard Natasha call from the living room, "Well ... and now back to our regularly scheduled programming."

Thank you, FDNY!

A Year Ago Today: No post
Two Years Ago Today: No post

Sew New York Runway Show

As Time Goes By

Tonight Natasha, Ra and I joined Mayra at her house in Queens for dinner a la Melvin, her successful chef boyfriend, who cooked up a feast and then left it on the stove for us while he went out with his boys. Mayra and Melvin have the best couch in the world. I have been looking for one just like it my whole life. I was sad to leave its lush cushions and comfy pillows, but Melvin was good enough to drive the girls back to our homes in Brooklyn and Manhattan since we had consumed several bottles of wine between the three of us by the time he returned. Mayra and her pregnant belly had sipped cranberry juice in envy as we downed glass after glass.

As we rode over the Queensboro Bridge, we happened to notice two pillars of light beaming from downtown and were reminded that 9/11 was again upon all of us. Seven years ... I can hardly believe it.

A Year Ago Today: No post
Two Years Ago Today: Beyonce Before Work

Another Non-Twitter Tweet

Katie wants the 3 hours she spent watching the VMAs back. 1 minute ago

A Year Ago Today: My First Fashion Show
Two Years Ago Today:
How Often Does Lightning Strike?
Chrysler Moon

Housewarming

Natasha and I hosted a party last night to warm our apartment with the bodies of our friends to celebrate the miracle of leasing an affordable apartment in Midtown. Clothing was optional, alcohol was mandatory, and a password was required upon buzzing our apartment to gain entry into the building.

Recipients of our evite were given the following instructions:

Password Upon Buzzing Apt [number eradicated]:
"I Like My Muffin Buttered"

Directions
[Address eradicated] is located between 8th and 9th Avenues on the south side of the street.
By Subway: C,E to 50th St; 1 to 50th St; N,R,W to 49th St; B,D,F,V to 47-50th Sts.
By Bus: M50, M11, M10, M20, M104, M27 to 50th St (but we're not really sure so you should take the train).
By Taxi: Tell the driver [cross streets eradicated].
By Foot: Walk to [cross streets eradicated].
From New Jersey: No idea. And who really cares anyway.
By Watertaxi: Means you're probably coming from Jersey. See above.
From Newark: You're not getting out of Newark alive and you know it.

The highlight of the night was making a Flip Cup table out of our ironing board and a panel of birch that we hope to eventually have made into a built-in bar between our kitchen and living room. It was like college all over again except with 30 or so twenty-something New York professionals crammed into a Manhattan box.

Times haven't changed much between college and "the real world" - or maybe they've changed a lot - when Flip Cup and Beer Pong are acceptable staples of entertaining at home or in any other venue, including our company's national sales conference, where our own EVP of media sales proved to be quite a Beer Pong cheerleader.

A Year Ago Today: No post
Two Years Ago Today: Crisis in Corporate NYC

Friday [Un-]Funnies

If only my roommate and I could find a microwave small enough to fit in our kitchen.

A coworker emailed me a link to this today and said we should try it in the office. After watching the online video of popcorn kernels seemingly being popped by cellular electromagnetic radiation, I was overcome by the euphoria of having freshly popped popcorn at home with the roomie.

Unfortunately, Snopes.com killed my dreams of consuming cellular-radiated popcorn in my Hell's Kitchen apartment sans microwave: http://www.snopes.com/science/cookegg.asp

And that is not funny.

A Year Ago Today: No post
Two Years Ago Today: Crossroads of the World

"Things I Love" Thursdays - The Good, the Bad, the Ugly

When it comes to loving New York, you have to take the good with the bad ... and with its ugly pretention. Pretentiousness exists here, as it does in any other money-ruling, celebrity-obsessed, materialistic society, but this city still beats L.A., where I swear it's nearly impossible to gain any level of respect unless you are "somebody" or you have a name to drop.

In New York, for instance, you are more likely to be in a nightclub, where a wealthy patron orders four rounds of 10 bottles of Cristal during a birthday party, then buys a bottle of Cristal for every table in the club, and then further instructs waitresses to pop bottles of Cristal and spray the club goers.

My roommate recounted this exact scenario to me this morning while we were getting ready for work. After a Nike event last night, I had opted to retire for the evening while she continued on to Pink Elephant, where she witnessed the "look what I bought" sparkler parade of bottles constantly circulating the club. I replied in total Debbie Downer-mode with "What a waste of money! Think of all the charitable contributions they could have made instead!"

Ever the Devil's Advocates, we agreed that people with that much money must certainly make plenty of heartfelt donations, even if it is for the tax write-offs alone. Yet I still could not help but feel disgusted thinking of all the additional contributions that could have been made to the needy of New York City, the United States - and even the world - in lieu of hosing down already well-to-do nightclub patrons with champagne.

But as I walked to work, I had to ask myself if I was Debbie Downer about it because I would truly prefer to see the world become a better place or because I cannot buy bottle after bottle of expensive champagne to consume or waste as I please. Was I repulsed or envious? Being one to always question the deep-seeded motives of my own feelings, I decided to call Terrence while walking to the office and see what he thought of what my roommate had witnessed. His response was similar to mine: "Wow. That's annoying."

Good, I thought.

But I'll take New York either way. Give it your tired, your poor, your weary and your pretentious. The good, the bad, the ugly, and the freedom to be any (or all three) are, after all, what makes it so great.

"Things I Love" Thursdays are inspired by "I Love New York" (BNY, February 14, 2007).

A Year Ago Today: When I See New York
Two Years Ago Today: Wisdom and Chocolate

44th Street Detour

Natasha and I walked to work together this morning for the first time. She recently scored an executive assistant job with a financial investment group a few blocks from my office and will be making as much as I do as an executive assistant in advertising. Not too bad for a girl three months fresh out of Idaho.

She and I have had amazing - and unconventional - luck ... from our jobs to our new Midtown apartment. Although she interviewed for two separate positions within the media company for which I work and was not called back, she has now begun a fairly remarkable road to success in New York City. Not to mention that separately she has had amazing luck racking up quite a few celebrity admirers.

We walked down Eighth Avenue with celebratory Starbucks in hand, and at 44th Street, I said, "Hey, let's cross town here so we can get a peek at Chris Cuomo's fine self." [my celebrity crush]

"Sure," she replied and then reminded me: "Except he's in Louisiana right now." [He's covering the aftermath of Hurricane Gustov ... which we would know since we're tuned into GMA when we return from the gym each morning]

"Damnit!" I exclaimed, "I hate it when he goes on assignment without calling me!"

A Year Ago Today:
My Boss's Life
Sky Writing
Two Years Ago Today: Real Estate Stress

My Main Cast

It took me almost a year to find the close circle of friends that I now have in the city. Last July-September, I began hanging out regularly with a few woman in Manhattan. Because of our diverse ethnic backgrounds, we once jokingly called ourselves "The United Colors of Benetton" and personalized a Disney fairies image that now hangs in some of our offices. The name for our clique never really stuck - not that we've ever tried to label ourselves as if we were some sort of girl band - but the group has gradually updated itself since the initial Cast of Characters post to encompass a beautiful group of women that I am proud to call friends.

Hallmark should make a card that reads, There are 8 million people in New York City, and we found each other. I'd buy one for all of them.

In alphabetical order:
Debasha - the fashion corporate merchandise planner
Iris - the fashion designer / personal shopper extraordinare
Jackie - the cocktail waitress who receives $100 tips from Jay-Z for counting his cash
Mayra, the international manufacturing, research and multimedia supervisor
Natasha M. (Tasha or T) - the film and TV voiceover/actress and the best "Sex and the City" Tour Guide ever
Natasha S. (Natasha) - the finance executive and fabulous roommate dubbed by the Former SNL Actor: "A White Girl Who Swallowed a Black Girl" (check her out from behind and you'll see what he meant)
Ra - the shoe designer and footwear guru

Other main characters (around and about NYC):
Bobbi (Tokii) - the best friend from college, whose acting career takes her in and out of the city
Annisha - the publishing marketer
Candice - the flight attendant
Cassie - the Connecticut-based nanny, soon-to-be-fulltime-New Yorker
Gina - the fashion merchandiser who just moved to LA

A Year Ago Today: September Sunrise
No Title for Last Night
August's Sunset
Two Years Ago Today: VMAs, Mass Celebrity Sighting and Almost TGIF