I convinced myself that I was going to love Sex and the City: The Movie when I first heard that it was in production. Absence of the series had made my heart grow fonder. Moving to New York had not unveiled my inner (and outer) Carrie Bradshaw so I absorbed the TBS syndication from my couch in Harlem every chance I could get.
By the time my girlfriends and I entered an Upper West Side movie theater on the opening weekend of the movie, I was so "Sex"-deprived, I was ready and willing to overlook any flaws that would taint my Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha moments. I imagine that - for me - viewing the film for the first time was like the taste of water after walking through the desert. It was going to be great even if there was a bug or two and a little bit of dust floating around.
I had suspended reality so much to enjoy this film, that it has been a little surprising to hear over the weeks since that not everyone adored the movie as much as I did. And then I recently read a review that really got me thinking about the message of the movie.
From Miss Model Behavior:
The moral of the film: get rich so you can afford to neglect any real responsibility and completely immerse yourself in the personal problems that consume your existence through every possible season (just long enough to view a complete wardrobe, the only saving grace of those two and a half hours). This might not have mattered if the movie had the funny sarcasm and witty repartee of the comedy series, but mostly it was just horribly, indulgently dramatic. However, my opinion seemed to be at odds with every other female that I talked to, who had consumed the motion picture like it was a pint of Ben and Jerry’s after a bad breakup.
Read more
After reading this blog post, I licked off the rest of my Ben and Jerry's spoon, put it down and did a little self-reflection. Maybe I wouldn't list Sex and the City: The Movie with all of my favorites on Facebook after all. Side thought: Because nothing is official until it is announced on Facebook - friendships, relationships, careers. I mean it. Don't mess around and claim that you are engaged on Facebook; you'll start receiving wedding gifts and then a lot of people will be mad when they learn you're not really getting married. I have referenced the HBO series multiple times throughout my blog, sometimes in sincerity, often in satire. I've analyzed the allure of Manhattan that the television show created. I've had my own couldn't help but wonder moments about whether or not I was just another Carrie Wannabe.
I've gotten through two years in New York knowing that those types of girls don't make it. They can't look far enough beyond the fantasy of Manhattan to see the gritty reality of New York City. Recently a good friend admitted to me that this city wasn't all she hoped it would be and that she can't afford to continue living here if she doesn't find a better job. This city is a hard place to survive, and the level of in-your-face luxury and materialism can make your biggest steps forward feel miniscule. Even conversations over brunch are more often about who received what from whom, who bought what from where, and who wore what when - rather than real world issues, like subsistence farming, the Middle East, poor education, natural disasters, the welfare system, affordable medical care. No one wants to be Debbie Downer on a beautiful New York day, but is marching down the street in Manolos and Jimmy Choos, linked arm in arm with our hottest friends, toting Louis Vuitton and Chanel all that we really hope for? Do we not get much deeper than that?
In a world of Darfurs, Iraqs and Tibets, it can't get any shallower. And in a post that began as self-reflection spurred by the analysis of a Hollywood film, I cannot get any more random.
A Year Ago Today: Phone Photo Ops - Here's Looking at You, New York
Two Years Ago Today: No post
Showing posts with label brunching. Show all posts
Showing posts with label brunching. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Myths & the City
As I type, Tasha is attending the red carpet premiere of Sex and the City: The Movie at Radio City Music Hall. And while our clique is living vicariously through her "Stars and the City" night, we know that a Carrie-lifestyle on a Carrie-paycheck is a far cry from the fantasy that drives 20-somethings to New York in droves. Hell - I wouldn't be honest with myself if I didn't admit that the HBO series didn't add kindling to my blazing New York City fire when I was a college student living in North Carolina.
My friends and I shop at sample sales or hook each other up with the goodies and perks associated with our own careers. I have a box of cereal under my desk for lunch or I pack sandwiches during the week. We party in A- and B-list clubs only if we know the promoters hosting comped tables. Despite our decent upper-middle class incomes and jobs in the entertainment, fashion and publishing industries, even the cheapest bottle service is out of all of our budgets - if we plan to still make the rent. We pick brunch spots based on all-you-can-drink-for-under-$10 menus - not exactly the kind of places where you sip Veuve Cliquot mimosas next to ladies in floppy, widebrimed hats. And don't get me started on how we cram our lives into a modest amount of square footage at outrageous prices.
From amNY.com:
Cast members yesterday conceded that they were familiar with the critique that "Sex and the City" helped launch these changes by drawing out-of-towners hell bent on living the life at all cost. High-priced designer labels and extravagant lifestyles have been as much a part of the series as its four female stars -- Sarah Jessica Parker, Kim Cattrall, Kristin Davis and Cynthia Nixon.
Nixon, for her part, is all too familiar with these bright-eyed girls. "When people come up to me on the street and say, 'I just got here from Iowa two weeks ago. Your show made me come. I'm like, 'Oh no,'" said Nixon, who plays reprising Miranda Hobbes. "People do come here looking for love, but what do they find?"
Quite possibly bad luck in love, cramped apartments, shopping trips that don't include Fifth Avenue and life in a borough other than Manhattan.
Even a recent article in The New York Times was a reminder that Sex and the City: The Movie is a movie:
Every year around this time, tens of thousands of postcollegiate people in their 20s flood the city despite its soaring expenses. They are high on ambition, meager of budget and endlessly creative when it comes to making ends meet.
Some tactics have long been chronicled: sharing tiny apartments with strangers. Sharing those apartments with eight strangers. Eating cheap lunches and skipping dinners — not just to save money, but so that drinks pack more of a punch and fewer need be consumed.
But there are smaller measures, no less ingenious, that round out the lifestyle. These young people sneak flasks of vodka into bars, flirt their way into clubs, sublet their walk-in closets, finagle their way into open-bar parties and put off haircuts until they visit their hometowns, even if those hometowns are thousands of miles away. Read more
But we keep on coming. Some leave, some barely get by, some make it. But I think few find that New York City will be something they would ever regret.
My friends and I shop at sample sales or hook each other up with the goodies and perks associated with our own careers. I have a box of cereal under my desk for lunch or I pack sandwiches during the week. We party in A- and B-list clubs only if we know the promoters hosting comped tables. Despite our decent upper-middle class incomes and jobs in the entertainment, fashion and publishing industries, even the cheapest bottle service is out of all of our budgets - if we plan to still make the rent. We pick brunch spots based on all-you-can-drink-for-under-$10 menus - not exactly the kind of places where you sip Veuve Cliquot mimosas next to ladies in floppy, widebrimed hats. And don't get me started on how we cram our lives into a modest amount of square footage at outrageous prices.
From amNY.com:
Cast members yesterday conceded that they were familiar with the critique that "Sex and the City" helped launch these changes by drawing out-of-towners hell bent on living the life at all cost. High-priced designer labels and extravagant lifestyles have been as much a part of the series as its four female stars -- Sarah Jessica Parker, Kim Cattrall, Kristin Davis and Cynthia Nixon.
Nixon, for her part, is all too familiar with these bright-eyed girls. "When people come up to me on the street and say, 'I just got here from Iowa two weeks ago. Your show made me come. I'm like, 'Oh no,'" said Nixon, who plays reprising Miranda Hobbes. "People do come here looking for love, but what do they find?"
Quite possibly bad luck in love, cramped apartments, shopping trips that don't include Fifth Avenue and life in a borough other than Manhattan.
Even a recent article in The New York Times was a reminder that Sex and the City: The Movie is a movie:
Every year around this time, tens of thousands of postcollegiate people in their 20s flood the city despite its soaring expenses. They are high on ambition, meager of budget and endlessly creative when it comes to making ends meet.
Some tactics have long been chronicled: sharing tiny apartments with strangers. Sharing those apartments with eight strangers. Eating cheap lunches and skipping dinners — not just to save money, but so that drinks pack more of a punch and fewer need be consumed.
But there are smaller measures, no less ingenious, that round out the lifestyle. These young people sneak flasks of vodka into bars, flirt their way into clubs, sublet their walk-in closets, finagle their way into open-bar parties and put off haircuts until they visit their hometowns, even if those hometowns are thousands of miles away. Read more
But we keep on coming. Some leave, some barely get by, some make it. But I think few find that New York City will be something they would ever regret.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Unforgettable Day Weekend
Terrence left on Saturday morning to spend a few days with his family in Atlanta before joining friends in Ohio to play on Kevin's Gus Macker team in Zanesville. But there was no time for me to be sad following the end of his two-week visit because I had Saturday afternoon coffee and shopping in Soho, Saturday night dinner plans at Wild Ginger in the West Village, Sunday afternoon brunch at Roberto Passon in Hell's Kitchen, and a Memorial Day Weekend harbor cruise Sunday evening with various combinations of my best girlfriends.
Dinner on Saturday with all the usuals was relatively tame, but attributable to all-you-can-drink mimosas, bellinis, bloody marys and screwdrivers at Sunday brunch, there now exists photo documentation of me holding my dress over my head amongst some young Naval sailors in Times Square. I would love to depict myself as truly outrageous and free-spirited, but for the benefit of accurate memorial recordkeeping, I have to add that we began our Sunday morning sunbathing in Central Park and I was wearing a string bikini under my dress. So it wasn't as bold as it may seem, but with or without the panties, either version is a shameless salute to Fleet Week.
To celebrate Iris' birthday, we rounded out Memorial Day Weekend with a harbor cruise around Manhattan, a hook-up courtesy of a good friend who was DJ'ing on a yacht. Later, we were joined by Ra, Debasha and two of Iris' old roommates at a comped table at Club Home with one of our favorite promoters.
On a Hudson River party cruise, featured below from left to right:
Natasha (Natasha S., a newbie to NYC), Jackie (a new friend of Cassie's), Iris, me
Dinner on Saturday with all the usuals was relatively tame, but attributable to all-you-can-drink mimosas, bellinis, bloody marys and screwdrivers at Sunday brunch, there now exists photo documentation of me holding my dress over my head amongst some young Naval sailors in Times Square. I would love to depict myself as truly outrageous and free-spirited, but for the benefit of accurate memorial recordkeeping, I have to add that we began our Sunday morning sunbathing in Central Park and I was wearing a string bikini under my dress. So it wasn't as bold as it may seem, but with or without the panties, either version is a shameless salute to Fleet Week.
To celebrate Iris' birthday, we rounded out Memorial Day Weekend with a harbor cruise around Manhattan, a hook-up courtesy of a good friend who was DJ'ing on a yacht. Later, we were joined by Ra, Debasha and two of Iris' old roommates at a comped table at Club Home with one of our favorite promoters.
On a Hudson River party cruise, featured below from left to right:
Natasha (Natasha S., a newbie to NYC), Jackie (a new friend of Cassie's), Iris, me
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Brunching and Walking on a Sunday Afternoon
Brunching at Roberto Passon with friends, a new boyfriend in the crew and the french toast with the just-right wheaty texture and sugary consistency and the perfect ratio of syrup to eggs and butter ... and the $8 all-you-can-drink bellinis, bloody marys, mimosas and screwdrivers from noon to 3:30pm.
Proof that Mayra is pregnant
... other than the ultrasound photos
Cookies-n-Cream Hersey's bar in a croissant
Walking from 50th and Ninth to the start of today's
city walk at 110th Street and Broadway
Upper West Side cafés
Bars
Street fairs
Benches and tree-lined streets
Proof that Mayra is pregnant
... other than the ultrasound photos
Cookies-n-Cream Hersey's bar in a croissant
Walking from 50th and Ninth to the start of today's
city walk at 110th Street and Broadway
Upper West Side cafés
Bars
Street fairs
Benches and tree-lined streets
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Phone Photo Ops - After Brunch in Brooklyn
Walking from brunch at the Dean Street apartment of friends, who live a block from Michelle Williams. Their son is even a playmate of Heath Ledger and Williams' daughter Matilda, but I decided not to take a camera phone photo of her home ...
Tree-lined streets and bicycle lanes
This is a CVS
Brooklyn brownstones
Flowering walkways
Tree-lined streets and bicycle lanes
This is a CVS
Brooklyn brownstones
Flowering walkways
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Weekend on Wisteria Lane
"What is this weird gushy feeling I get whenever I see our friends' babies?" I asked Tokii over a Saturday brunch of pecan pancakes, french toast, hash brown souffle and scrambled eggs with cheese at a Cracker Barrel outside of New Haven (brunch location per Tokii's request; you can take the girl out of the South, but you can't take the South out of the girl).
"That would be called your biological clock," she replied between bites of sausage.
"I don't know why I start to feel like I want one of these when I see them," I said, nodding toward the miniature human in the highchair at the end of our table. "Can't I hit a snooze button?"
Friday evening, Debasha and I had arrived in Connecticut via the Metro-North to see Tokii perform in "The Bluest Eye", in which she was terrific as Claudia, just as The New York Times had said she was. Cassie and her best friend joined us for brunch, and in between hilariously inappropriate for family-style restaurants conversation, we were all oohing and aahing over her best friend's adorable baby boy.
"Slow your roll, girl!" Cassie's 23-year old best friend laughed.
"Slow my roll?" I shot back. "I'm 28."
She was surprised. I supposed her genuine shock at my age was a good thing. But I found myself wondering if my life choices were leading me down a path to being the unmarried, childless auntie of all of my friends' kids.
Cassie took Debasha and me on a tour of Yale University since Tokii had matinee and evening performances at the Long Wharf Theatre and was preparing for family members to arrive from North Carolina. So we transitioned from Tokii's temporary New Haven apartment on Friday night to a Saturday night in Cassie's third-floor space of the family she works for. She is the nanny of an Icelandic family of three adorable boys. I often joke that I would never hire a hot nanny, but I realized immediately that this wife should have little to worry about since she is a typical Scandinavian beauty.
New Haven is a picturesque town with tree-lined streets, white picket fences, old New England homes and adorable storefronts and cafes. Around every corner, I felt myself admiring the beauty, the space and the family-oriented landscape. And with every manicured yard, baby carriage and camera phone photo op, I felt either the urge to go watch Desperate Housewives or respond to my biological clock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
We had a fun girls' evening on the town, where I learned in New Haven - of all places - that I love Cuban food, and ultimately ended the night only slightly earlier than usual with Cassie's DVD box set of "Sex and the City". The next morning we were awakened before 9 o'clock by the shrieks, bangs and crashes of three giggly little boys.
"Yes, it is this loud every morning," Cassie groaned from under her pillow as somewhere on a floor below us there was a giant thud and a shrill scream followed by laughter.
I rolled over and found the snooze button on my biological clock.
"That would be called your biological clock," she replied between bites of sausage.
"I don't know why I start to feel like I want one of these when I see them," I said, nodding toward the miniature human in the highchair at the end of our table. "Can't I hit a snooze button?"
Friday evening, Debasha and I had arrived in Connecticut via the Metro-North to see Tokii perform in "The Bluest Eye", in which she was terrific as Claudia, just as The New York Times had said she was. Cassie and her best friend joined us for brunch, and in between hilariously inappropriate for family-style restaurants conversation, we were all oohing and aahing over her best friend's adorable baby boy.
"Slow your roll, girl!" Cassie's 23-year old best friend laughed.
"Slow my roll?" I shot back. "I'm 28."
She was surprised. I supposed her genuine shock at my age was a good thing. But I found myself wondering if my life choices were leading me down a path to being the unmarried, childless auntie of all of my friends' kids.
Cassie took Debasha and me on a tour of Yale University since Tokii had matinee and evening performances at the Long Wharf Theatre and was preparing for family members to arrive from North Carolina. So we transitioned from Tokii's temporary New Haven apartment on Friday night to a Saturday night in Cassie's third-floor space of the family she works for. She is the nanny of an Icelandic family of three adorable boys. I often joke that I would never hire a hot nanny, but I realized immediately that this wife should have little to worry about since she is a typical Scandinavian beauty.
New Haven is a picturesque town with tree-lined streets, white picket fences, old New England homes and adorable storefronts and cafes. Around every corner, I felt myself admiring the beauty, the space and the family-oriented landscape. And with every manicured yard, baby carriage and camera phone photo op, I felt either the urge to go watch Desperate Housewives or respond to my biological clock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
We had a fun girls' evening on the town, where I learned in New Haven - of all places - that I love Cuban food, and ultimately ended the night only slightly earlier than usual with Cassie's DVD box set of "Sex and the City". The next morning we were awakened before 9 o'clock by the shrieks, bangs and crashes of three giggly little boys.
"Yes, it is this loud every morning," Cassie groaned from under her pillow as somewhere on a floor below us there was a giant thud and a shrill scream followed by laughter.
I rolled over and found the snooze button on my biological clock.
Quote of Whenever - Over Brunch in New Haven
Quote of the Girls' Weekend in New Haven:
"When he sat down, it looked like a mushroom cap on top of two acorns."
- A Native New Havenite
Not a quote of the day, week or month. Just of whenever. Until the next quote that moves me.
"When he sat down, it looked like a mushroom cap on top of two acorns."
- A Native New Havenite
Not a quote of the day, week or month. Just of whenever. Until the next quote that moves me.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Drunk Brunch with DrunkBrunch & Co.
Highlights from brunch with other New York City blogger girls at Roberto Passon in Hell's Kitchen (City Wendy, Charmingly Sarcastic Since 1982, DrunkBrunch, Misguided Misadventures in NYC, No Stop Til Brooklyn, Under-Employed Girl, Vulgar Truths):
- $8 All-You-Can-Drink Champagne, Bellinis, Bloody Marys & Mimosas
- Waking up in different neighborhoods
- Sex on a [new, clean] bathroom floor in a bar
- Real estate depression leading to near-suicidal thoughts
- Roommates who date convicted yet reformed murderers
- Stripper pros and cons
- Making out across from Carrie's "Sex and the City" stoop
- White boys rapping at East Village Idiot's Triviotic
- Sharing photos from all my stops through Brooklyn
- Bringing your kids to bars (ahem, Park Slope) not recommended [we all know the little ones can't hold their liquor]
Phone photo ops -
This plate did feature a Spinach & Goat Cheese Omelette, Italian home fries, a zesty side salad and toast. I have dubbed it the second best in the city to the omelette with cream cheese and smoked salmon here, but their $8 all-you-can-drink (versus Il Bastardo's $15 all-you-can-drink) will bring me back with higher frequency.
DrunkBrunch lived up to her name with the giant mimosas.
And then I went on my City Walk.
- $8 All-You-Can-Drink Champagne, Bellinis, Bloody Marys & Mimosas
- Waking up in different neighborhoods
- Sex on a [new, clean] bathroom floor in a bar
- Real estate depression leading to near-suicidal thoughts
- Roommates who date convicted yet reformed murderers
- Stripper pros and cons
- Making out across from Carrie's "Sex and the City" stoop
- White boys rapping at East Village Idiot's Triviotic
- Sharing photos from all my stops through Brooklyn
- Bringing your kids to bars (ahem, Park Slope) not recommended [we all know the little ones can't hold their liquor]
Phone photo ops -
This plate did feature a Spinach & Goat Cheese Omelette, Italian home fries, a zesty side salad and toast. I have dubbed it the second best in the city to the omelette with cream cheese and smoked salmon here, but their $8 all-you-can-drink (versus Il Bastardo's $15 all-you-can-drink) will bring me back with higher frequency.
DrunkBrunch lived up to her name with the giant mimosas.
And then I went on my City Walk.
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Divinity in Edible Form
I have found the omelette of my life. The holy trinity of Sunday breakfast is a combination of eggs, cream cheese and smoked salmon. It's divine existance thrives within the quaint exterior and exposed brick walls of a Tuscan steak and wine bar on Seventh Avenue. Svette VII's Il Bastardo on the corner of 21st Street features a weekend brunch menu that stole our hearts and has been infinitely dubbed our Sunday brunch spot.
I will now spend six days a week in agonizing anticipation of Sunday brunches with my girlfriends - not yearning for the fellowship and conversation of my closest friends - but craving Il Bastardo's omelette with cream cheese and smoked salmon. Not to mention that the $15 all-you-can-drink Champagne, Mimosas, Bellinis, Screwdrivers and Bloody Marys have solidified its high echelon within our Sunday brunch clique.
Phone Photo Op - My Omelette with cream cheese and smoked salmon ($9.00) and Debasha's Eggs Benedict with Maryland Crabcakes ($12.00) and monster Mimosa
Ra joined me on today's city walk after brunch. En route to our starting point at Broadway and 14th Street, we passed by a film crew and browsed the real estate listings in the window of a Citi Habitats office. The latter gave both of us the remarkable urge to bang our foreheads through the glass or dig our eyeballs out with forks smeared with hot sauce. I don't know how else to describe the self-deprecating thoughts and suicidal tendencies sparked by New York City real estate prices.
Phone Photo Op - Film crew on Seventh and West 20th
I will now spend six days a week in agonizing anticipation of Sunday brunches with my girlfriends - not yearning for the fellowship and conversation of my closest friends - but craving Il Bastardo's omelette with cream cheese and smoked salmon. Not to mention that the $15 all-you-can-drink Champagne, Mimosas, Bellinis, Screwdrivers and Bloody Marys have solidified its high echelon within our Sunday brunch clique.
Phone Photo Op - My Omelette with cream cheese and smoked salmon ($9.00) and Debasha's Eggs Benedict with Maryland Crabcakes ($12.00) and monster Mimosa
Ra joined me on today's city walk after brunch. En route to our starting point at Broadway and 14th Street, we passed by a film crew and browsed the real estate listings in the window of a Citi Habitats office. The latter gave both of us the remarkable urge to bang our foreheads through the glass or dig our eyeballs out with forks smeared with hot sauce. I don't know how else to describe the self-deprecating thoughts and suicidal tendencies sparked by New York City real estate prices.
Phone Photo Op - Film crew on Seventh and West 20th
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Easter Brunch at L'Orange Bleue
My blog likes to masquerade as a food blog. I snap blog photos of my food so often, the posts should probably have their own label. But food is such an essential part of New York City culture, you cannot become a New Yorker without simultaneously becoming a foodie ... and a wine aficionado ... and a cocktail connoisseur. And you add a "brunch budget" to your monthly expenses.
Food and drink are a defining - if not symbolic - part of most societies, but it's the diversity of authentic cuisine within the five boroughs that makes New York distinct.
Today I joined my girlfriends for Easter brunch at L'Orange Bleue in Soho, where I ordered the Omelette Maxime and a mimosa from their brunch menu. A lazy Sunday afternoon passed us by as we enjoyed our usual brunch conversation: politics (a few jokes about Spitzer), finance (the latest news surrounding Bear Stearns), fashion, jobs, men, rent. Once all that could be eaten, drank and said ... had been eaten, drank and said, we went our separate ways - to Brooklyn, to Harlem, a sale at Steve Madden, and a city walk.
Debasha joined me for my first city walk of 2008.
Phone photo op - Cherry blossoms in L'Orange Bleue
Brunch Prix Fixe, includes the mimosa - only $12.95
Happy Easter!
Food and drink are a defining - if not symbolic - part of most societies, but it's the diversity of authentic cuisine within the five boroughs that makes New York distinct.
Today I joined my girlfriends for Easter brunch at L'Orange Bleue in Soho, where I ordered the Omelette Maxime and a mimosa from their brunch menu. A lazy Sunday afternoon passed us by as we enjoyed our usual brunch conversation: politics (a few jokes about Spitzer), finance (the latest news surrounding Bear Stearns), fashion, jobs, men, rent. Once all that could be eaten, drank and said ... had been eaten, drank and said, we went our separate ways - to Brooklyn, to Harlem, a sale at Steve Madden, and a city walk.
Debasha joined me for my first city walk of 2008.
Phone photo op - Cherry blossoms in L'Orange Bleue
Brunch Prix Fixe, includes the mimosa - only $12.95
Happy Easter!
Monday, March 03, 2008
High Caloric Weekend
The increased calorie intake actually began on Wednesday with drinks and dinner at Divine Bar West with an old North Carolina college friend visiting from Chicago. As the Vodka Sodas (my signature drink) and Vodka Gimlets (his) flowed, we began to realize just how far from Cullowhee we really are. It's amazing, the clarity that comes with low-level intoxication.
"I never would have believed," I said, "Back when we would walk by each other and nod on campus - you in your over-sized hooded sweatshirts, and me in my velour sweatsuits - that we would one day be in a trendy Manhattan lounge miles and years away from North Carolina, sipping trendy drinks and eating gourmet chocolates given to me by a celebrity chef [I didn't add, 'You in smooth business casual and me in a black dress and 4" patton leather pumps']."
While we both agreed that we wouldn't change our pasts and that we appreciated all North Carolina had provided in our lives, there was nothing left back there for either of us. Then, we swapped our big city stories - both good and bad - but mostly good. And we toasted Chicago and New York.
*****
Thursday night was dinner at a friend's apartment in Harlem, where I inhaled two pieces of steak that he cooked on a grill - even though I don't typically eat beef - steamed broccoli and wine, followed by a popsicle, two packs of fruit snacks and a late-night trip to McDonalds for a hot fudge sundae and two cookies that we devoured in the McDonalds parking lot (there is actually a drive-thru on Broadway and 125th!).
*****
Friday night was dinner at Park Avenue Winter, a restaurant that changes its name, menu and decor with the seasons, and a going away party at Kush for Gina B., who is moving to Los Angeles. All weekend long, I was quoting Samantha from "Sex and the City," "I'm always surprised when anyone leaves New York. I mean, where do they go?"
Where do you go once you've lived here? As someone once said to me while we were dining in Morandi, "If you were in North Carolina right now, you'd be sitting around with your friends watching a Reese Witherspoon movie, talking about how much you love her."
While I know that's a comical exaggeration, I know that if I left New York for anywhere else right now, I'd ultimately wake up one morning and wonder what the hell I was doing there. Maybe I'll feel differently in a 5-10 years.
*****
In the meantime, I rounded out my weekend high above Columbus Circle at Asiate at the top of the Mandarin Oriental with a three-course brunch and mimosas. Then, the Sunday dinner crew (Iris, Keith, T and Olu) came to my apartment on Broadway Sunday night for a once-a-month ritual we started at Iris' apartment on Lenox in December, went to Olu and T's apartment in Jamaica Queens in January, and brought to my place for February (even though it was already the first weekend of March). Next is Keith's in Long Island, though I think we'll make him bring the menu to Harlem.
*****
It's five days and eight pounds later, and I just returned from an industry event at The Bowery Hotel, where a fellow executive assistant and I (attending on behalf of our bosses) downed complimentary champagne, mango martinis and tiny hor'dourves served on silver trays. We sat on the private terrace bundled in our jackets and scarves - just warm enough from the alcohol and the overhead space heaters - while she smoked cigarettes, laughing about how "Sex and the City" we were.
And I have more communal eating with friends this week. This is good news for neither the wallet nor the waistline.
"I never would have believed," I said, "Back when we would walk by each other and nod on campus - you in your over-sized hooded sweatshirts, and me in my velour sweatsuits - that we would one day be in a trendy Manhattan lounge miles and years away from North Carolina, sipping trendy drinks and eating gourmet chocolates given to me by a celebrity chef [I didn't add, 'You in smooth business casual and me in a black dress and 4" patton leather pumps']."
While we both agreed that we wouldn't change our pasts and that we appreciated all North Carolina had provided in our lives, there was nothing left back there for either of us. Then, we swapped our big city stories - both good and bad - but mostly good. And we toasted Chicago and New York.
*****
Thursday night was dinner at a friend's apartment in Harlem, where I inhaled two pieces of steak that he cooked on a grill - even though I don't typically eat beef - steamed broccoli and wine, followed by a popsicle, two packs of fruit snacks and a late-night trip to McDonalds for a hot fudge sundae and two cookies that we devoured in the McDonalds parking lot (there is actually a drive-thru on Broadway and 125th!).
*****
Friday night was dinner at Park Avenue Winter, a restaurant that changes its name, menu and decor with the seasons, and a going away party at Kush for Gina B., who is moving to Los Angeles. All weekend long, I was quoting Samantha from "Sex and the City," "I'm always surprised when anyone leaves New York. I mean, where do they go?"
Where do you go once you've lived here? As someone once said to me while we were dining in Morandi, "If you were in North Carolina right now, you'd be sitting around with your friends watching a Reese Witherspoon movie, talking about how much you love her."
While I know that's a comical exaggeration, I know that if I left New York for anywhere else right now, I'd ultimately wake up one morning and wonder what the hell I was doing there. Maybe I'll feel differently in a 5-10 years.
*****
In the meantime, I rounded out my weekend high above Columbus Circle at Asiate at the top of the Mandarin Oriental with a three-course brunch and mimosas. Then, the Sunday dinner crew (Iris, Keith, T and Olu) came to my apartment on Broadway Sunday night for a once-a-month ritual we started at Iris' apartment on Lenox in December, went to Olu and T's apartment in Jamaica Queens in January, and brought to my place for February (even though it was already the first weekend of March). Next is Keith's in Long Island, though I think we'll make him bring the menu to Harlem.
*****
It's five days and eight pounds later, and I just returned from an industry event at The Bowery Hotel, where a fellow executive assistant and I (attending on behalf of our bosses) downed complimentary champagne, mango martinis and tiny hor'dourves served on silver trays. We sat on the private terrace bundled in our jackets and scarves - just warm enough from the alcohol and the overhead space heaters - while she smoked cigarettes, laughing about how "Sex and the City" we were.
And I have more communal eating with friends this week. This is good news for neither the wallet nor the waistline.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Phone Photo Ops - The View from Brooklyn
After a Saturday night out on the town with my girl Iris, I dragged myself out of bed and to a birthday brunch in Brooklyn for my friend Gina C. I was joined by my best friend Tokii and her fellow Juilliard alum Jamario, four fabulous people from Gina's job, including a gorgeous girl who looks exactly like Maggie Gyllenhaal and has legs for days, Gina's roommates and other new friends.
We ate waffles cooked by the Birthday Girl and topped with everything, drank Mimosas, played Taboo! (which gets funnier the more Mimosas you drink) and had a hilarious photo shoot in the kitchen. What started as a brunch turned into an all day affair. By the time Tokii and I were headed back west to Jersey and Harlem respectively, it was getting dark and I was lamenting the end of another weekend.
The most refreshing thing about Brooklyn was the space. Gina and her two roommates share an enormous three-bedroom apartment. It took me an hour to get there from Harlem on the A train, and the commute from midtown would be more than what I would desire, but the thing about living in New York City is that you have to be willing to sacrifice one or more of three things:
1) Low Cost
2) Large Space
3) Convenient Commute
When I looked out of Gina's window, the first thing I thought was: "It is such a beautiful day." And the second thing: "It took me an hour to get here from there?"
Zoom view
(The camera phone pic does it no justice, but the Empire State Building actually dominates the horizon from her window)
We ate waffles cooked by the Birthday Girl and topped with everything, drank Mimosas, played Taboo! (which gets funnier the more Mimosas you drink) and had a hilarious photo shoot in the kitchen. What started as a brunch turned into an all day affair. By the time Tokii and I were headed back west to Jersey and Harlem respectively, it was getting dark and I was lamenting the end of another weekend.
The most refreshing thing about Brooklyn was the space. Gina and her two roommates share an enormous three-bedroom apartment. It took me an hour to get there from Harlem on the A train, and the commute from midtown would be more than what I would desire, but the thing about living in New York City is that you have to be willing to sacrifice one or more of three things:
1) Low Cost
2) Large Space
3) Convenient Commute
When I looked out of Gina's window, the first thing I thought was: "It is such a beautiful day." And the second thing: "It took me an hour to get here from there?"
Zoom view
(The camera phone pic does it no justice, but the Empire State Building actually dominates the horizon from her window)
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Phone Photo Ops - End of East Village Servitude
I did not take a city walk today because I met a coworker for brunch around noon and then concluded my two-week cat-sitting stint in the East Village. However, I did take a quick walk along St. Marks Place and Avenue A before returning to my boss's apartment to tidy up the place and pack my things.
Brunch at Jules Bistro
Looking up from our table just below sidewalk level
Our cute table nook and my mimosa!
Another adorable outdoor cafe along St. Marks Place
Along Avenue A
Thanks to the 18-year existance of my boss's cat Stella and her need for constant companionship (literally that cat sits on you wherever you go), I have returned to Harlem with some fun East Village memories and half a grand richer.
Brunch at Jules Bistro
Looking up from our table just below sidewalk level
Our cute table nook and my mimosa!
Another adorable outdoor cafe along St. Marks Place
Along Avenue A
Thanks to the 18-year existance of my boss's cat Stella and her need for constant companionship (literally that cat sits on you wherever you go), I have returned to Harlem with some fun East Village memories and half a grand richer.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Easter Brunch & Libations
"Shall we partake in libations?"
That was Jamario last night after an amazing dress rehearsal of Drama Group 36's showcase, in which every actor broke many, many legs. The Juilliard seniors will take their showcase from New York City to Los Angeles over the next few weeks, and I'm looking forward to following the careers of my (bias-based) favorite Juilliard class. But for that moment, it was Easter, it had been a long week for all, and the night was ours.
I had joined Tokii, Jamario and his girlfriend Stephanie for Easter brunch yesterday afternoon at Mobay Uptown, a Caribbean restaurant in the heart of Harlem. You know a restaurant is good when you're looking over the menu and already planning the next meal for your inevitable return. I love coming upon the hidden treasures of the city. The almost clandestine entrance - that one might easily overlook - conceals a dimly-lit, rich ambiance creating a trendy and comfortable chill spot suitable for a formal brunch or a casual evening with friends. I'm sure Mobay Uptown will be a favorite of mine for years to come.
"It's places like this that actually make me like New York," Tokii - the L.A.-bound, anti-most-things-NYC - said.
"I know. Places like this are such ..." I began to agree, searching for eloquent words to complete the thought.
In signature goofy-Tokii style, she interrupted me with eyes bulging: "A burst of fruit flavor!"
One probably wouldn't guess it from the above description of her guess-you-had-to-be-there hilarious intrusion, but she is one of the most beautiful women that many people might ever see in real life. In fact, when showing pictures of her (taken during a city outing) to my family in the Philippines, my tita would say, "And this is Katie's friend, the one who all the men kept taking second and third glances at on the street."
Beautiful, extremely funny and extraordinarily talented - even among the company she keeps at Juilliard. But my description is somewhat subject to a best-friend bias.
Following my afternoon city walk and their evening dress rehearsal, I went with Tokii and her classmates to Dallas BBQ on West 72nd Street, where I had the biggest, best wild berry pina colada ever. I think it will be my new favorite drink.
A lot of new favorites yesterday in my favorite city ... keeping in mind though that I have a lot of biases regarding the people and places that I love.
That was Jamario last night after an amazing dress rehearsal of Drama Group 36's showcase, in which every actor broke many, many legs. The Juilliard seniors will take their showcase from New York City to Los Angeles over the next few weeks, and I'm looking forward to following the careers of my (bias-based) favorite Juilliard class. But for that moment, it was Easter, it had been a long week for all, and the night was ours.
I had joined Tokii, Jamario and his girlfriend Stephanie for Easter brunch yesterday afternoon at Mobay Uptown, a Caribbean restaurant in the heart of Harlem. You know a restaurant is good when you're looking over the menu and already planning the next meal for your inevitable return. I love coming upon the hidden treasures of the city. The almost clandestine entrance - that one might easily overlook - conceals a dimly-lit, rich ambiance creating a trendy and comfortable chill spot suitable for a formal brunch or a casual evening with friends. I'm sure Mobay Uptown will be a favorite of mine for years to come.
"It's places like this that actually make me like New York," Tokii - the L.A.-bound, anti-most-things-NYC - said.
"I know. Places like this are such ..." I began to agree, searching for eloquent words to complete the thought.
In signature goofy-Tokii style, she interrupted me with eyes bulging: "A burst of fruit flavor!"
One probably wouldn't guess it from the above description of her guess-you-had-to-be-there hilarious intrusion, but she is one of the most beautiful women that many people might ever see in real life. In fact, when showing pictures of her (taken during a city outing) to my family in the Philippines, my tita would say, "And this is Katie's friend, the one who all the men kept taking second and third glances at on the street."
Beautiful, extremely funny and extraordinarily talented - even among the company she keeps at Juilliard. But my description is somewhat subject to a best-friend bias.
Following my afternoon city walk and their evening dress rehearsal, I went with Tokii and her classmates to Dallas BBQ on West 72nd Street, where I had the biggest, best wild berry pina colada ever. I think it will be my new favorite drink.
A lot of new favorites yesterday in my favorite city ... keeping in mind though that I have a lot of biases regarding the people and places that I love.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Spring Sundays
Today - the first Sunday in spring - I took my first Spring Sunday walk with City Walks: New York: 50 Adventures on Foot.
My day began at brunch in Harlem with Tokii and Gina C. Afterward I headed downtown and started the walk just as my card instructed. I took a small detour on Waverly Place nearing the end of the route when I noticed a street fair while searching for a camera phone photo op in Washington Square Park. The fair stretched several blocks and featured a variety of vendors selling food, jewelry, tapestries, carpets, plants and bags. I ate grilled corn on the cob and chocolate-covered strawberries on a stick while checking out the different booths before I headed for the train at Seventh Avenue.
How To Use These Cards:
Each of the 50 cards conveys the flavor of the New York neighborhood or area it covers. None of the walks should take more than an hour or two to complete. On the card maps, one inch equals approximately 1,000 feet, so five inches is approximately one mile. Many of the walks can be combined or paired. Historic or otherwise significant sights have been noted for each walk, but in may cases the number of sights that could have been mentioned greatly exceeds the space available. Use the text as your guide and enjoy the unexpected attractions as they appear. With a few exceptions, all 50 walks begin with a subway stop. None of the walks is difficult - most of New York's terrain is flat, or nearly so - but city sidewalks are hard on the feet, so set out for the day wearing comfortable shoes.
Purchase your own city walks cards at amazon.com:
City Walks: New York: 50 Adventures on Foot by Martha Fay
My day began at brunch in Harlem with Tokii and Gina C. Afterward I headed downtown and started the walk just as my card instructed. I took a small detour on Waverly Place nearing the end of the route when I noticed a street fair while searching for a camera phone photo op in Washington Square Park. The fair stretched several blocks and featured a variety of vendors selling food, jewelry, tapestries, carpets, plants and bags. I ate grilled corn on the cob and chocolate-covered strawberries on a stick while checking out the different booths before I headed for the train at Seventh Avenue.
How To Use These Cards:
Each of the 50 cards conveys the flavor of the New York neighborhood or area it covers. None of the walks should take more than an hour or two to complete. On the card maps, one inch equals approximately 1,000 feet, so five inches is approximately one mile. Many of the walks can be combined or paired. Historic or otherwise significant sights have been noted for each walk, but in may cases the number of sights that could have been mentioned greatly exceeds the space available. Use the text as your guide and enjoy the unexpected attractions as they appear. With a few exceptions, all 50 walks begin with a subway stop. None of the walks is difficult - most of New York's terrain is flat, or nearly so - but city sidewalks are hard on the feet, so set out for the day wearing comfortable shoes.
Purchase your own city walks cards at amazon.com:
City Walks: New York: 50 Adventures on Foot by Martha Fay
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Saturday in the City
It took me an hour and a half to get home from West 23rd Street. Ninety minutes. But before I recount that part of my day, let me back up.
I met Eileen, Annisha and Gina B. for brunch in Soho at noon. We stayed there for four hours. I love how conversation at brunch has no rules. We talk about anything and everything. It's so refreshing, frequently hilarious and always a good time. The bartender, a friend of Annisha's and obviously entrigued by our incessant laughter, pulled up a chair for awhile. I learned that he lives just five blocks from me. The waitress brought out a pitcher of sangria on the house, and suddenly it was 4 p.m.
After brunch Annisha dropped Gina off on Houston and me at West 23rd, and then she and Eileen drove back over the river to Hoboken. I had my eyebrows threaded at Unique Threading Salon and then went to The Container Store on West 19th Street - my haven. I find a sense of meaning and purpose in there that I should find in a church. It's the immaculate organization.
I bought a 12-cube organizer for my closet, two air-tight Tupperware boxes and a sandwich-shaped container since I've started making sandwiches for lunch at work (trying to add whole grains to my diet).
On a crowded uptown 1 train from West 23rd Street, I was able to get a seat at 42nd Street. A man put his bag in the seat next to me instead of sitting down or offering the seat to another passenger. At 59th Street an older woman - but by no means elderly - got on the train. A few moments later she asked me if the bag was mine. The man turned to her and said curtly, "Ma'am, you look twice my age. Do you want to sit down?"
She smiled, trying to mask her shock and surprise, and said, "I am twice your age! Thank you!"
She sat down next to me and pulled out a Blackberry. When the man moved to the other side of the train, I said to her, "I don't know how old you are, but you don't look twice his age. You look fabulous."
And I meant it. In fact, as I said it, I wondered privately if she had had any work done. Her skin looked great. Her makeup was well-applied, and she had on a furry hat and an outfit that looked expensive.
She smiled back at me and said, "He was a might rude, wasn't he? But aren't you so cute. I'm glad I got to sit next to you."
She exited the train at 103rd Street and flashed me a fabulous smile.
At 125th Street, the train was delayed. After half a dozen announcements regarding a smoke situation at 145th Street and FDNY investigations, I lugged my stuff off the train and waddled with my bags to the bus stop. I waited through two buses since they were full of fellow subway rejects.
When I finally got on a bus, I rode it one stop before I became irritated by all of the pushing and shoving. I stepped off the bus and walked the rest of the way to my apartment. It was less than a dozen blocks that I normally wouldn't hesitate to walk. With my heavy load, it was a struggle; however, I paced the bus block for block all the way to my building because of the delays caused by the overcrowding.
Now I'm in my apartment and relieved that Eileen, Annisha and Gina had already decided to bail on a birthday party that we planned to attend in the Lower East Side. I had been trying to think of a decent excuse to back out, but the bitter cold made a good enough one for all four of us.
Instead I will spend my evening organizing my shoes and vegging on my couch. I hate to admit that nothing would give me more joy tonight. It's a Saturday night in New York City, but I get a weird adrenalin rush creating organization in my life.
I'll blame it on the weather so I don't feel as lame!
I met Eileen, Annisha and Gina B. for brunch in Soho at noon. We stayed there for four hours. I love how conversation at brunch has no rules. We talk about anything and everything. It's so refreshing, frequently hilarious and always a good time. The bartender, a friend of Annisha's and obviously entrigued by our incessant laughter, pulled up a chair for awhile. I learned that he lives just five blocks from me. The waitress brought out a pitcher of sangria on the house, and suddenly it was 4 p.m.
After brunch Annisha dropped Gina off on Houston and me at West 23rd, and then she and Eileen drove back over the river to Hoboken. I had my eyebrows threaded at Unique Threading Salon and then went to The Container Store on West 19th Street - my haven. I find a sense of meaning and purpose in there that I should find in a church. It's the immaculate organization.
I bought a 12-cube organizer for my closet, two air-tight Tupperware boxes and a sandwich-shaped container since I've started making sandwiches for lunch at work (trying to add whole grains to my diet).
On a crowded uptown 1 train from West 23rd Street, I was able to get a seat at 42nd Street. A man put his bag in the seat next to me instead of sitting down or offering the seat to another passenger. At 59th Street an older woman - but by no means elderly - got on the train. A few moments later she asked me if the bag was mine. The man turned to her and said curtly, "Ma'am, you look twice my age. Do you want to sit down?"
She smiled, trying to mask her shock and surprise, and said, "I am twice your age! Thank you!"
She sat down next to me and pulled out a Blackberry. When the man moved to the other side of the train, I said to her, "I don't know how old you are, but you don't look twice his age. You look fabulous."
And I meant it. In fact, as I said it, I wondered privately if she had had any work done. Her skin looked great. Her makeup was well-applied, and she had on a furry hat and an outfit that looked expensive.
She smiled back at me and said, "He was a might rude, wasn't he? But aren't you so cute. I'm glad I got to sit next to you."
She exited the train at 103rd Street and flashed me a fabulous smile.
At 125th Street, the train was delayed. After half a dozen announcements regarding a smoke situation at 145th Street and FDNY investigations, I lugged my stuff off the train and waddled with my bags to the bus stop. I waited through two buses since they were full of fellow subway rejects.
When I finally got on a bus, I rode it one stop before I became irritated by all of the pushing and shoving. I stepped off the bus and walked the rest of the way to my apartment. It was less than a dozen blocks that I normally wouldn't hesitate to walk. With my heavy load, it was a struggle; however, I paced the bus block for block all the way to my building because of the delays caused by the overcrowding.
Now I'm in my apartment and relieved that Eileen, Annisha and Gina had already decided to bail on a birthday party that we planned to attend in the Lower East Side. I had been trying to think of a decent excuse to back out, but the bitter cold made a good enough one for all four of us.
Instead I will spend my evening organizing my shoes and vegging on my couch. I hate to admit that nothing would give me more joy tonight. It's a Saturday night in New York City, but I get a weird adrenalin rush creating organization in my life.
I'll blame it on the weather so I don't feel as lame!
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Brunching in the City
I met Eileen and Gina B. for brunch in Soho at Cafe Noir. Eileen is in fashion design and Gina is in fashion merchandising for the same company. Along with fashionable friends, brunch is something that is so New York. In the South, I'd argue that brunch is only something that one might do after a Sunday church service. But even then, it's not referred to as "brunch" in the same trendy way that it is referred to as "brunch" in New York City.
Brunch is the perfect way to start a Saturday. It gets you out of bed, but not too early. We met at 12:30 p.m. - but weekend brunches in New York can go as late as 4 p.m., or so I've been told. With the temptation to stay in bed all day, brunch is a fabulous reason to get out of your apartment and enjoy the city. And once you're out in Manhattan, it's easy to stay out.
We talked about work, men, clothes, bags and Super Bowl plans for tomorrow. After we had finished our cappuccinos, omelets, soups, salads and slices of bread that you could dip in olive oil, we continued to chat for another hour. The bartender sent out a pitcher of sangria on the house, and we sipped and laughed away the day.
I know it's a cliche Sex & the City moment, but days like today were exactly how I fantasized back in North Carolina that my life would one day be like in New York City. Brunch, sangria and a Saturday afternoon.
Brunch is the perfect way to start a Saturday. It gets you out of bed, but not too early. We met at 12:30 p.m. - but weekend brunches in New York can go as late as 4 p.m., or so I've been told. With the temptation to stay in bed all day, brunch is a fabulous reason to get out of your apartment and enjoy the city. And once you're out in Manhattan, it's easy to stay out.
We talked about work, men, clothes, bags and Super Bowl plans for tomorrow. After we had finished our cappuccinos, omelets, soups, salads and slices of bread that you could dip in olive oil, we continued to chat for another hour. The bartender sent out a pitcher of sangria on the house, and we sipped and laughed away the day.
I know it's a cliche Sex & the City moment, but days like today were exactly how I fantasized back in North Carolina that my life would one day be like in New York City. Brunch, sangria and a Saturday afternoon.
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