Zoom view
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Phone Photo Op - All Zipped Up
What I found hilarious by this scene is that it wasn't that cold outside.
Zoom view
Zoom view
Phone Photo Op - Morning View
From my boss's office, birds' eye view of Bryant Park
... where I will be enjoying spring lunches, summer Monday night movies and autumn breezes.
... where I will be enjoying spring lunches, summer Monday night movies and autumn breezes.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Phone Photo Op - Evening View
Chrysler sunset
Left the office an hour late and it was still light outside. I hate daylight savings' "spring forward" in the morning, but I love it in the evening.
Left the office an hour late and it was still light outside. I hate daylight savings' "spring forward" in the morning, but I love it in the evening.
I'll Always Be 12
So my mom sent me an email a few weeks ago, which is likely a direct result of this post and this post. The general tone, in four sentences, was motherly criticism regarding my use of fowl language and how "it may be normal for most people" but "it still isn't nice," and "it may sound cute if you accidentally say it when 'surprised,' but to do it as part of a normal sentence makes the difference between couth and uncouth."
I sighed. Closed my personal email. Took a sip from my steaming mug of green tea. Began my corporate day in a Manhattan skyscraper. Come on, Mom, I thought. I'm 28!
I was going to completely ignore her email and not issue a direct response via reply or indirectly via my blog. Then I read Chelsea Talks Smack's March 2nd post:
I'm sorry Granny (yes she reads my blog and now knows entirely too much inappropriate information about me), cousins, DAD, uncles, etc. Please forgive me for what I'm about to do -but, it's fucking human nature. So, go check your e-mail and return tomorrow. I wouldn't want to completely tarnish your pure vision of me as a little girl on Easter Sunday pointing out the color of tulips and looking all, cute and shit. Plus, if the idea that I'm not a virgin anymore is too much for you to handle, you may want to click the little red X at the top right corner of this page. Ciao.
Read more if you don't know Chelsea or if you know Chelsea and can handle that she is no longer a virgin.
Prepare for run-on sentence:
And I realized that - if Chelsea still has to apologize in advance to a family as cool as hers (check out the "Would You Punch Granny???" post) for real, raw and open topics that I only wish I had the guts to post, and East Village Idiot features reviews like:
"The best site on the World Wide Internet. Although he could cut down on the profanity a bit." - Chris' Mom"
... and Irish and Jew, hilarious 20-something New York bloggers, are smart enough to not tell their mothers that they have a blog - then I am not the only one with parents who frown upon my choice of language and personal decisions, but are still pretty cool, in general-ish. So I will accept my parents' criticisms with a grain of salt and appreciate the fact that I have parents who care enough to express criticisms that I can accept with a grain of salt.
But I still won't like it. I'm 28!
I sighed. Closed my personal email. Took a sip from my steaming mug of green tea. Began my corporate day in a Manhattan skyscraper. Come on, Mom, I thought. I'm 28!
I was going to completely ignore her email and not issue a direct response via reply or indirectly via my blog. Then I read Chelsea Talks Smack's March 2nd post:
I'm sorry Granny (yes she reads my blog and now knows entirely too much inappropriate information about me), cousins, DAD, uncles, etc. Please forgive me for what I'm about to do -but, it's fucking human nature. So, go check your e-mail and return tomorrow. I wouldn't want to completely tarnish your pure vision of me as a little girl on Easter Sunday pointing out the color of tulips and looking all, cute and shit. Plus, if the idea that I'm not a virgin anymore is too much for you to handle, you may want to click the little red X at the top right corner of this page. Ciao.
Read more if you don't know Chelsea or if you know Chelsea and can handle that she is no longer a virgin.
Prepare for run-on sentence:
And I realized that - if Chelsea still has to apologize in advance to a family as cool as hers (check out the "Would You Punch Granny???" post) for real, raw and open topics that I only wish I had the guts to post, and East Village Idiot features reviews like:
"The best site on the World Wide Internet. Although he could cut down on the profanity a bit." - Chris' Mom"
... and Irish and Jew, hilarious 20-something New York bloggers, are smart enough to not tell their mothers that they have a blog - then I am not the only one with parents who frown upon my choice of language and personal decisions, but are still pretty cool, in general-ish. So I will accept my parents' criticisms with a grain of salt and appreciate the fact that I have parents who care enough to express criticisms that I can accept with a grain of salt.
But I still won't like it. I'm 28!
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Phone Photo Op - Double Yokes and Oftens
I realize the weather was fairly mild last week, but it is freezing outside today. Why hasn't the building management turned back on the heat that is supposed to be included in my monthly rent along with the hot water, which often is not hot?
And why am I often cracking open twins from cartons of Grade A Jumbo Eggs distributed by Robert Nelms Egg Co., Bronx, NY 10488?
And why can I not stop craving Hauraches de Queso from Picante on Broadway and 139th?
Oh yea ...
Because my building management sucks.
I buy eggs from C Town.
Hauraches de Queso from Picante are awesome.
And why am I often cracking open twins from cartons of Grade A Jumbo Eggs distributed by Robert Nelms Egg Co., Bronx, NY 10488?
And why can I not stop craving Hauraches de Queso from Picante on Broadway and 139th?
Oh yea ...
Because my building management sucks.
I buy eggs from C Town.
Hauraches de Queso from Picante are awesome.
Reviews of Views
My best friend has been reviewed by The New York Times!
From nytimes.com:
... The problem is that we see all of them through the distancing filter of narration. And even though the narrator is the endearingly astute and precocious Claudia, we never shake the knowledge that it’s the analytical, literary, unmistakable voice of Toni Morrison telling us the story. Bobbi Baker is just terrific as Claudia, easily conveying both her adult perspective on the events of her girlhood and the child’s more limited understanding of them. But even as a child, Claudia is bright enough to resent Shirley Temple’s blue eyes rather than envy them ...
And hartfordstage.org:
... If Pecola is the central character, she is not the voice of the play. That role belongs to Claudia (Bobbi Baker) and, to a lesser extent, her sister Frieda (Ronica Reddick). The girls are neighbors of Pecola's family, the Breedloves, and both function almost as narrators. It is the sisters who explain at the start of the play that Pecola "had her father's baby" and then invite an exploration of "the ugly, untidy 'how' of it." Feisty, funny and confident, Claudia and Frieda also serve as counterpoint to the fragile, somber and self-negating Pecola, whose name resembles that of the mulatto child, Peola, in the 1934 film "Imitation of Life."
Ting's cast performs beautifully. Baker is especially fine, demonstrating the intelligence and spirit of a black girl whose response to getting a white baby doll for Christmas is to pull off its legs and head. She and Reddick convincingly play sisters, messing with each other or bonding tightly when, in one scene, they are set upon by a new classmate, the pretty new white student called Maureen Pearl (Shelley Thomas). Oduye brings a sweetness and fragility to Pecola, the young girl who is unaware of the roots of her yearnings and whose life is an expression of society's injustices. Miche Braden is the archetypal Mama, a loving, firm, put-upon woman who keeps her children in line and mouths off when necessary. Leon Addison Brown manifests the virility, confusion and loneliness that lead him to "claim his manhood in a manner unthinkable, unspeakable ..."
From nytimes.com:
... The problem is that we see all of them through the distancing filter of narration. And even though the narrator is the endearingly astute and precocious Claudia, we never shake the knowledge that it’s the analytical, literary, unmistakable voice of Toni Morrison telling us the story. Bobbi Baker is just terrific as Claudia, easily conveying both her adult perspective on the events of her girlhood and the child’s more limited understanding of them. But even as a child, Claudia is bright enough to resent Shirley Temple’s blue eyes rather than envy them ...
And hartfordstage.org:
... If Pecola is the central character, she is not the voice of the play. That role belongs to Claudia (Bobbi Baker) and, to a lesser extent, her sister Frieda (Ronica Reddick). The girls are neighbors of Pecola's family, the Breedloves, and both function almost as narrators. It is the sisters who explain at the start of the play that Pecola "had her father's baby" and then invite an exploration of "the ugly, untidy 'how' of it." Feisty, funny and confident, Claudia and Frieda also serve as counterpoint to the fragile, somber and self-negating Pecola, whose name resembles that of the mulatto child, Peola, in the 1934 film "Imitation of Life."
Ting's cast performs beautifully. Baker is especially fine, demonstrating the intelligence and spirit of a black girl whose response to getting a white baby doll for Christmas is to pull off its legs and head. She and Reddick convincingly play sisters, messing with each other or bonding tightly when, in one scene, they are set upon by a new classmate, the pretty new white student called Maureen Pearl (Shelley Thomas). Oduye brings a sweetness and fragility to Pecola, the young girl who is unaware of the roots of her yearnings and whose life is an expression of society's injustices. Miche Braden is the archetypal Mama, a loving, firm, put-upon woman who keeps her children in line and mouths off when necessary. Leon Addison Brown manifests the virility, confusion and loneliness that lead him to "claim his manhood in a manner unthinkable, unspeakable ..."
Saturday, March 08, 2008
"The Song Stuck in Your Head" From Hell
If I were a commercial actor, there are three types of commercials I would not want to do:
1) Herpes
2) Diarrhea
3) Optimum Triple Play
1) Herpes
2) Diarrhea
3) Optimum Triple Play
Search-Term Saturday: Foreshadowing of a Future Profession?
Maybe if my rent goes up 200% again next year.
I know my "Search-Term Saturdays" are pretty sporadic. With a blog that doesn't particularly boast or seek a lot of traffic, I don't always have amusing or interesting referrals. In fact, I have anxiety whenever traffic happens to spike above 50 unique visitors in one day, and I go back through recent posts to make sure I didn't reveal anything that I shouldn't have about a family member or friend. Link to related post
But just when I was telling my NYC Blogger girls at dinner last Wednesday that I have never been linked* to anything [and by "anything," I meant any sites that are more or less "official" like gawker.com ... ahem], I have been linked by a porn site called a-lok.net as "A Collage of Girls Stripping at hostel Campus." Someone in Calcutta visited my blog via that link.**
*DrunkBrunch's post on an odd visit to the gynecologist, where a doctor's assistant "hit on [her] mid-vag" - Gawker's Blogorrhea
*Misguided Misadventures in NYC's "Salt in the Wound" or "Irish Enough" - by Gawker's Blogorrhea
**I'm the second "A Collage of Girls Stripping at hostel Campus" link, but I wouldn't click on it at a-lok. Maybe it's phishing site and it definitely doesn't take you to a collage of girls stripping at a hostel campus. Not yet anyway. Stop back by after/if I renew my lease in November.
I know my "Search-Term Saturdays" are pretty sporadic. With a blog that doesn't particularly boast or seek a lot of traffic, I don't always have amusing or interesting referrals. In fact, I have anxiety whenever traffic happens to spike above 50 unique visitors in one day, and I go back through recent posts to make sure I didn't reveal anything that I shouldn't have about a family member or friend. Link to related post
But just when I was telling my NYC Blogger girls at dinner last Wednesday that I have never been linked* to anything [and by "anything," I meant any sites that are more or less "official" like gawker.com ... ahem], I have been linked by a porn site called a-lok.net as "A Collage of Girls Stripping at hostel Campus." Someone in Calcutta visited my blog via that link.**
*DrunkBrunch's post on an odd visit to the gynecologist, where a doctor's assistant "hit on [her] mid-vag" - Gawker's Blogorrhea
*Misguided Misadventures in NYC's "Salt in the Wound" or "Irish Enough" - by Gawker's Blogorrhea
**I'm the second "A Collage of Girls Stripping at hostel Campus" link, but I wouldn't click on it at a-lok. Maybe it's phishing site and it definitely doesn't take you to a collage of girls stripping at a hostel campus. Not yet anyway. Stop back by after/if I renew my lease in November.
Friday, March 07, 2008
M-I-C-K-E-Y ... M-O-NYC
On my way to meet City Wendy, DrunkBrunch and Misguided Misadventures in NYC for an uptown dinner at China de Puebla last night - for which I was running late, of course - I suddenly realized that I didn't know exactly where I was going - other than somewhere in my neighborhood. I texted DrunkBrunch: "Where am I going again?"
That's the life of an executive assistant, working late and so busy managing someone else's life, I can't keep track of my own. That's why all of my bills are on auto-pay, including (or perhaps especially) my rent.
I wish I could share some of the hilarious conversation from last night, but I will reserve it with my private memories out of respect for blogger anonymity. I will, however, disclose that the evening ended with multiple sightings of an unexpected and bold four-legged guest.
From MMNYC's morning-after email:
"I was shrieking at the waiter, like he could do something (Amanda, you are kind to use the nicer word, assertive, but really I am just bossy as hell), Wendy was keeping her screams contained [and then let them out on Broadway], Katie was pleading with the waiter not to kill our furry friend [at least not in front of us] ... ridiculous! I CANNOT believe that happened!!! ... But OTHER THAN THAT, I'm glad we got together, uptown-mouse style!! Let's do it again soon."
DrunkBrunch wrote a charming haiku to summarize our evening.
A very tasty meal, an adorable restaurant, fabulous women, great conversation. And a mouse. So New York.
La China de Puebla presents a unique menu and celebrates a beautiful Asian-Mexican legend. In an effort to redeem the restaurant in light of the mouse-sighting, here is a phone photo op of my delicious dessert:
From the restaurant's website and as featured on their cocktail menu:
That's the life of an executive assistant, working late and so busy managing someone else's life, I can't keep track of my own. That's why all of my bills are on auto-pay, including (or perhaps especially) my rent.
I wish I could share some of the hilarious conversation from last night, but I will reserve it with my private memories out of respect for blogger anonymity. I will, however, disclose that the evening ended with multiple sightings of an unexpected and bold four-legged guest.
From MMNYC's morning-after email:
"I was shrieking at the waiter, like he could do something (Amanda, you are kind to use the nicer word, assertive, but really I am just bossy as hell), Wendy was keeping her screams contained [and then let them out on Broadway], Katie was pleading with the waiter not to kill our furry friend [at least not in front of us] ... ridiculous! I CANNOT believe that happened!!! ... But OTHER THAN THAT, I'm glad we got together, uptown-mouse style!! Let's do it again soon."
DrunkBrunch wrote a charming haiku to summarize our evening.
A very tasty meal, an adorable restaurant, fabulous women, great conversation. And a mouse. So New York.
La China de Puebla presents a unique menu and celebrates a beautiful Asian-Mexican legend. In an effort to redeem the restaurant in light of the mouse-sighting, here is a phone photo op of my delicious dessert:
From the restaurant's website and as featured on their cocktail menu:
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Phone Photo Op - Times Square Police Line
On my way to the gym before work, Times Square was blocked to all pedestrian traffic.
And while running on the treadmill, I learned that Times Square had been opened to vehicular traffic only a few hours earlier following a 3:45 a.m. bombing.
Update: In Times Square Blast, Echos of Earlier Bombings
And while running on the treadmill, I learned that Times Square had been opened to vehicular traffic only a few hours earlier following a 3:45 a.m. bombing.
Update: In Times Square Blast, Echos of Earlier Bombings
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Phone Photo Op - The Secret of the Ooze
Today's "What the Hell is That?" city moment is brought to you by the Coalition of Mail Service Patrons Who Want to Know Why the Bryant Park Post Office Employees are Always in Such a Bad Mood.
Taken outside of the Bryant Park Post Office today around lunchtime.
Quick, someone get me some knunchucks and a turtle.
Taken outside of the Bryant Park Post Office today around lunchtime.
Quick, someone get me some knunchucks and a turtle.
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.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Three L's for the Leap Year
My three L's were inspired by a lecture given by Professor Randy Pausch at Carnegie Mellon University. Over AIM, I sent Terrence the link to view the reprise on Oprah.com.
After watching it, he IMed me back: "Wow. That really hits hard at the end. I teared up and everything."
Today I decided on three L's ...
Laugh more ... Love more ... Live more ...
Because I can ...
Professor Randy Pausch's Last Lecture on Oprah.com
After watching it, he IMed me back: "Wow. That really hits hard at the end. I teared up and everything."
Today I decided on three L's ...
Laugh more ... Love more ... Live more ...
Because I can ...
Professor Randy Pausch's Last Lecture on Oprah.com
NEW POST from drafts ...
The Moments that Make the Ride
Have you ever wanted to run through the streets of New York screaming? I have and I did. As I recall, very few people paid any attention to me. And granted, it was the one night of the year when 90% of the city's population was looking, doing or watching what would normally be considered weird by society’s standards. Read more ...
The Moments that Make the Ride
Have you ever wanted to run through the streets of New York screaming? I have and I did. As I recall, very few people paid any attention to me. And granted, it was the one night of the year when 90% of the city's population was looking, doing or watching what would normally be considered weird by society’s standards. Read more ...
Thursday, February 28, 2008
"Things I Love" Thursdays - Bitching
New Yorkers love to bitch about the petty and mundane. And I love to join them. There are few things more enjoyable than grumbling with a complete stranger about the MTA, bad pizza, rude cab drivers, the Boston Red Sox, but mostly the MTA ... and now, bagels.
There is true fury behind the bitching over the subway fare hike and the inflated cost of bagels. If you want to see steam come out of a New Yorker's ears, just mention the MTA or the wheat shortage.
Things I Love" Thursdays are inspired by "I Love New York" (BNY, February 14, 2007).
There is true fury behind the bitching over the subway fare hike and the inflated cost of bagels. If you want to see steam come out of a New Yorker's ears, just mention the MTA or the wheat shortage.
Things I Love" Thursdays are inspired by "I Love New York" (BNY, February 14, 2007).
"Things I Love" Thursdays – Corporate Advancement
The view from my boss’s new office (a floor below the founder's office), which is ultimately my view through her glass walls from my new cubicle.
The best part about being an assistant is that when your boss is promoted, generally so are you. My boss was promoted to SVP so I received a promotion, a raise ... and a gold star. It's kind of nice to ride on the coattails of someone else's success.
Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
"Things I Love" Thursdays are inspired by "I Love New York" (BNY, February 14, 2007).
Saturday, February 23, 2008
My Best February Birthday Ever
My friends are so fabulous. Since I was in England during the week of my birthday, my friends planned a belated birthday celebration. Busy schedules pushed the date back over a month, but I was so touched by their persistence. Tasha and Gina B. sent out the following evite on January 28:
"Hey ladies..... So it's time to celebrate Katie's birthday! The day will start with brunch at the amazing Spring Natural. Following, we will work off our calories by heading to Bryant Park for ice skating!!! (Make sure you bring your insurance cards in case of emergency!) To warm up after the cold ice, we will head for hot chocolate in Rockefeller Center at La Maison du Chocolat. Please RSVP and let us know if you're "in" for this fabulous day!!!!!"
Since the ice skating rink in Bryant Park was replaced shortly thereafter with Fashion Week tents and coordinating the schedules of eight 20-something, fabulous women pushed back my celebration further still, we agreed on alternative arrangements: comp tickets on a Sex and the City Tour led by Natasha (her weekend gig) and dinner at a clique favorite, Wild Ginger. At a toast to me after the wine was poured, I said to them: "This is the best birthday in February I've ever had!"
But it may have been the best ever.
"Hey ladies..... So it's time to celebrate Katie's birthday! The day will start with brunch at the amazing Spring Natural. Following, we will work off our calories by heading to Bryant Park for ice skating!!! (Make sure you bring your insurance cards in case of emergency!) To warm up after the cold ice, we will head for hot chocolate in Rockefeller Center at La Maison du Chocolat. Please RSVP and let us know if you're "in" for this fabulous day!!!!!"
Since the ice skating rink in Bryant Park was replaced shortly thereafter with Fashion Week tents and coordinating the schedules of eight 20-something, fabulous women pushed back my celebration further still, we agreed on alternative arrangements: comp tickets on a Sex and the City Tour led by Natasha (her weekend gig) and dinner at a clique favorite, Wild Ginger. At a toast to me after the wine was poured, I said to them: "This is the best birthday in February I've ever had!"
But it may have been the best ever.
The Sex and the City tour covers over 40 hot spots of Carrie and crew, including:
· Carrie's apartment stoop
· The Pleasure Chest where Charlotte bought her 'Rabbit'
· Magnolia Bakery, where Miranda stuffed cupcakes into her mouth
· Steve and Aiden's bar
· The church where Samantha meets "The Friar"
· The gallery in SoHo where Charlotte worked
· The furniture store where Aidan designed his tables and chairs
If you ever take the tour on a Saturday or Sunday, request Tasha (Natasha) as your guide. Tell her Katie sent you!
Thursday, February 21, 2008
"Things I Love" Thursdays - Coming Home
When I left for recent weekends in Miami and New Orleans, I got to return to New York City. I love calling this place home.
"Things I Love" Thursdays are inspired by "I Love New York" (BNY, February 14, 2007).
"Things I Love" Thursdays are inspired by "I Love New York" (BNY, February 14, 2007).
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Official Quotes from Our NBA All-Star 2008
Quotes:
"C just started running!" - K, drunk and lost on Canal Street and wearing a hat that wasn’t hers, after A and B picked up me and Iris from the airport
"Get in that ass!" - K
"This shit right here ... This shit right here ..." - Katie and K in sporadic intervals (adapted from Katt William's Pimp Chronicles Pt. 1)
"We need a whole lot a' chicken in room 2214!" - Davin to the Sheraton room service at 4am
"[NBA player] ordered 12 breakfastses over an hour ago, and he's pissed!" - Davin to Sheraton room service at 5am
"This is K [pointing at K], this is Katie [pointing at me], and she smells like Icy Hot [pointing at Iris asleep], want to smell her?" - Davin to Anyone Who Walked into Room 2214 between 4:15 and 5am
"Baby, I'm bow-legged." - Uncle Junebug (Snoop Dogg's uncle) to A
"Lemme get a pencil and write your number down." - Uncle Junebug to A
"You are beautiful!" – An NBA player, the owner of a Miami radio station who introduced us to Doug E. Fresh, whoever that comedian was at the NBA Players Association Party, and a bunch of random people ... all to C
"K, he is not Deebo." - Everybody
"I am not Deebo." - The Actor That K Thought was Deebo
"Danity Kane!" - Dozens of people following us around NBA Jam Session after we were escorted courtside with talent guest passes (at least our colors sort of matched)
"I'm a Pisces; I just fall so hard!" - A
"C just started running!" - K, drunk and lost on Canal Street and wearing a hat that wasn’t hers, after A and B picked up me and Iris from the airport
"Get in that ass!" - K
"This shit right here ... This shit right here ..." - Katie and K in sporadic intervals (adapted from Katt William's Pimp Chronicles Pt. 1)
"We need a whole lot a' chicken in room 2214!" - Davin to the Sheraton room service at 4am
"[NBA player] ordered 12 breakfastses over an hour ago, and he's pissed!" - Davin to Sheraton room service at 5am
"This is K [pointing at K], this is Katie [pointing at me], and she smells like Icy Hot [pointing at Iris asleep], want to smell her?" - Davin to Anyone Who Walked into Room 2214 between 4:15 and 5am
"Baby, I'm bow-legged." - Uncle Junebug (Snoop Dogg's uncle) to A
"Lemme get a pencil and write your number down." - Uncle Junebug to A
"You are beautiful!" – An NBA player, the owner of a Miami radio station who introduced us to Doug E. Fresh, whoever that comedian was at the NBA Players Association Party, and a bunch of random people ... all to C
"K, he is not Deebo." - Everybody
"I am not Deebo." - The Actor That K Thought was Deebo
"Danity Kane!" - Dozens of people following us around NBA Jam Session after we were escorted courtside with talent guest passes (at least our colors sort of matched)
"I'm a Pisces; I just fall so hard!" - A
Thursday, February 14, 2008
"Things I Love" Thursdays - Anti-Valentine's Day Celebrations
In a city full of 20-somethings who'd rather be single in New York City than married in Ohio, I attended my second Anti-Valentine's Day celebration in row. I'm not entirely a romance antagonist, as I noted last year. In fact, I love genuine expressions of love. I'm just not a fan of consumer marketing-driven holidays. So I guess I don't like any holidays, but Valentine's Day in particular is the one that feels the most forced and insincere of all. It's the day when you say I love you because you have to.
I gathered with about two dozen friends and friends of friends at Divine Bar on West 54th Street. It was my second best Valentine's Day ever. This was the first.
"Things I Love" Thursdays are inspired by "I Love New York" (BNY, February 14, 2007).
I gathered with about two dozen friends and friends of friends at Divine Bar on West 54th Street. It was my second best Valentine's Day ever. This was the first.
"Things I Love" Thursdays are inspired by "I Love New York" (BNY, February 14, 2007).
Monday, February 11, 2008
Bienvenido a Miami
Miami Weekend Highlights ...
Iris and I went to Miami for the weekend and stayed in a friend's 22nd floor condo in downtown Brickell overlooking the Port of Miami.
Friday Highlights:
Staying here
One Miami
Splashing here
South Beach
Outdoor cocktails here
Mandarin Oriental
Clubbing here
Mansion
Saturday Highlights:
Partying here
Privé
Sunday Highlights:
Brunching here
Big Pink
Lounging here
Nikki Beach
Returning here
New York City
Iris and I went to Miami for the weekend and stayed in a friend's 22nd floor condo in downtown Brickell overlooking the Port of Miami.
Friday Highlights:
Staying here
One Miami
Splashing here
South Beach
Outdoor cocktails here
Mandarin Oriental
Clubbing here
Mansion
Saturday Highlights:
Partying here
Privé
Sunday Highlights:
Brunching here
Big Pink
Lounging here
Nikki Beach
Returning here
New York City
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Any Given Super Bowl
Because this journalist, with an equal love for New York City and a true passion for football, retells it better than I can ...
One for the ages!
Matthew Schneeberger, back in the U.S. after a year in India,
relives the culture-spanning excitement of the Super Bowl
A consortium of shouts, whistles and cheers pours into my friend's apartment window on Manhattan's Upper Eastside: "Yea, baby!" "Go Giants!" "Boston sucks!"
Peering out said window, I see drunken revellers swarm past in droves. They high-five one another, swill from open containers of booze and proudly point to their team's logo on blue hats, shirts and jackets, which everyone seems to be wearing. A man does an Irish jig on Lexington Avenue, while a companion plays accompanying bagpipes. Horns honk, girls scream and a few testosterone-riddled alpha-males heckle a lone man in Patriots clothing, who scuttles down into the subway, covering his head and moving quickly to avoid confrontation.
Heavy bass lines rattle the apartment building, as a next-door neighbor plays rapper Camron's version of Welcome to New York City!
My friends, New Yorkers through and through, run around the room like excited school children, slapping hands and howling in ecstasy. Chris, who stand 6' 5" and weighs 240 pounds, crawls out of the window (with difficulty) and onto the fire escape, proceeding to shout, "Plaxico Burress is god!" A volley of similar-minded shrieks comes in response from the street below.
"Dude, if you could bottle this feeling and sell it, drug dealers would disappear," he says upon re-entering the room.
My friend Greg exclaims: "What are we waiting for? Let's get down there and celebrate!"
On the street, we greet strangers like brothers, hugging and raising our beer bottles skywards. A group of twenty - comprising African Americans, Caucasians, Hispanics and Asians - walks arm in arm, chanting, "Here we go, Giants! Here we go!"
A quartet of homeless men play the saxophone, horn, trumpet drums, decked out in Giants' garb; passer-bys liberally toss money into an upturned hat at their feet. A crowd eventually gathers around them, and what a sight it is to see: Wealthy Upper Eastside residents completely at ease with a group of vagrants, interacting freely, sharing laughter and tears as if they were long lost friends.
A stocky, middle-aged man walks past me, jabber away excitedly on his cell phone: "Dude, can you f*****g believe it? The New York f*****g Giants won the Super Bowl! I never thought I'd live to see it again!"
It's not how the story was supposed to end ...
Read Matthew Schneeberger's entire article here
... For me, watching the game took on special significance. Back in the States after 12 months in India, I was able to watch my first football game in real-time in over a year; and what a game it was! ESPN.com is already polling its users, asking "Is this the greatest Super Bowl of all time? Is this the most shocking result you can remember?"
Furthermore, seeing the mighty Patriots get their comeuppance, after years of borderline dirty play and ethically questionable tactics, made the viewing experience doubly special. In fact, a smile is still plastered on my face; and I keep watching, rewinding and rewatching the game's highlights, some three hours after its conclusion.
The Super Bowl is annually the most viewed programme across America, and has been since the early 1970's. It's watched by approximately 40% of households in the United States, and has become a major cultural event and national holiday of sorts. It features the most expensive marketing space in the world, set at RS 80,000,000 for a thirty second advertisement.
And this year's big spenders got every bit their money's worth, as the game was truly one for the ages.
So while some members of my craft may be bemoaning the result, trashing pre-written headlines that read "Patriots make history, finish undefeated", and staying up late to hastily rework copy, this journalist is ecstatic.
The game reminded me why I love American Football. It was intense, frenetic and action-packed. The hits, blocks and tackles were bone-jarring, and actually resulted in several small injuries for both squads.
Manning's Houdini move to avoid a sure sack and 32 yard pass to David Tyree with 59 seconds left will be shown on NFL highlight videos for the next thirty years. Had the improbable play gone the other way, the Patriots would have clinched victory. For a team that seemingly had the stars aligned in their favour throughout the year, it was surreal to see all the bounces go against them.
But that's why I love this game; because, as the slogan goes: "Any team can win on any given Sunday."
- Matthew Schneeberger
India in New York, A Guide to Events and Entertainment from India Abroad
Vol. XI No. 32
Rediff.com
One for the ages!
Matthew Schneeberger, back in the U.S. after a year in India,
relives the culture-spanning excitement of the Super Bowl
A consortium of shouts, whistles and cheers pours into my friend's apartment window on Manhattan's Upper Eastside: "Yea, baby!" "Go Giants!" "Boston sucks!"
Peering out said window, I see drunken revellers swarm past in droves. They high-five one another, swill from open containers of booze and proudly point to their team's logo on blue hats, shirts and jackets, which everyone seems to be wearing. A man does an Irish jig on Lexington Avenue, while a companion plays accompanying bagpipes. Horns honk, girls scream and a few testosterone-riddled alpha-males heckle a lone man in Patriots clothing, who scuttles down into the subway, covering his head and moving quickly to avoid confrontation.
Heavy bass lines rattle the apartment building, as a next-door neighbor plays rapper Camron's version of Welcome to New York City!
My friends, New Yorkers through and through, run around the room like excited school children, slapping hands and howling in ecstasy. Chris, who stand 6' 5" and weighs 240 pounds, crawls out of the window (with difficulty) and onto the fire escape, proceeding to shout, "Plaxico Burress is god!" A volley of similar-minded shrieks comes in response from the street below.
"Dude, if you could bottle this feeling and sell it, drug dealers would disappear," he says upon re-entering the room.
My friend Greg exclaims: "What are we waiting for? Let's get down there and celebrate!"
On the street, we greet strangers like brothers, hugging and raising our beer bottles skywards. A group of twenty - comprising African Americans, Caucasians, Hispanics and Asians - walks arm in arm, chanting, "Here we go, Giants! Here we go!"
A quartet of homeless men play the saxophone, horn, trumpet drums, decked out in Giants' garb; passer-bys liberally toss money into an upturned hat at their feet. A crowd eventually gathers around them, and what a sight it is to see: Wealthy Upper Eastside residents completely at ease with a group of vagrants, interacting freely, sharing laughter and tears as if they were long lost friends.
A stocky, middle-aged man walks past me, jabber away excitedly on his cell phone: "Dude, can you f*****g believe it? The New York f*****g Giants won the Super Bowl! I never thought I'd live to see it again!"
It's not how the story was supposed to end ...
Read Matthew Schneeberger's entire article here
... For me, watching the game took on special significance. Back in the States after 12 months in India, I was able to watch my first football game in real-time in over a year; and what a game it was! ESPN.com is already polling its users, asking "Is this the greatest Super Bowl of all time? Is this the most shocking result you can remember?"
Furthermore, seeing the mighty Patriots get their comeuppance, after years of borderline dirty play and ethically questionable tactics, made the viewing experience doubly special. In fact, a smile is still plastered on my face; and I keep watching, rewinding and rewatching the game's highlights, some three hours after its conclusion.
The Super Bowl is annually the most viewed programme across America, and has been since the early 1970's. It's watched by approximately 40% of households in the United States, and has become a major cultural event and national holiday of sorts. It features the most expensive marketing space in the world, set at RS 80,000,000 for a thirty second advertisement.
And this year's big spenders got every bit their money's worth, as the game was truly one for the ages.
So while some members of my craft may be bemoaning the result, trashing pre-written headlines that read "Patriots make history, finish undefeated", and staying up late to hastily rework copy, this journalist is ecstatic.
The game reminded me why I love American Football. It was intense, frenetic and action-packed. The hits, blocks and tackles were bone-jarring, and actually resulted in several small injuries for both squads.
Manning's Houdini move to avoid a sure sack and 32 yard pass to David Tyree with 59 seconds left will be shown on NFL highlight videos for the next thirty years. Had the improbable play gone the other way, the Patriots would have clinched victory. For a team that seemingly had the stars aligned in their favour throughout the year, it was surreal to see all the bounces go against them.
But that's why I love this game; because, as the slogan goes: "Any team can win on any given Sunday."
- Matthew Schneeberger
India in New York, A Guide to Events and Entertainment from India Abroad
Vol. XI No. 32
Rediff.com
Monday, February 04, 2008
Aftermath of a Giant Super Bowl Win
All over New York City last night.
I got home after 4am.
I DID make it to work today. My hair was pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, there was fresh makeup caked on top of yesterday’s makeup, my skin may have smelled like liquor, but I was in the office on time.
I got home after 4am.
I DID make it to work today. My hair was pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, there was fresh makeup caked on top of yesterday’s makeup, my skin may have smelled like liquor, but I was in the office on time.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
To Quote DrunkBrunch, "La Cena Buena"
I joined fellow bloggers for another NYC Restaurant Week Winter 2008 hoedown last night. Still reeling from my crazy day in the office, I tried my best to remain calm when I really wanted to call all of my family members and best friends and jump around in the street on my cell phone.
We met at Rosa Mexicano for what DrunkBrunch has already dubbed "La Cena Bena" on her blog. She has a pretty good summary of the evening so if anyone wants to read about it, I'll let her tell it. And posts like this are why I love FeistyRed - oh, and this, and this, and this.
And this, too. And this. And I'm done for now ... after this.
I will, however, include the camera phone photo ops of my own food.
The appetizer from my three-course prix-fixe dinner
The entrée from my three-course prix-fixe dinner
The dessert from my three-course prix-fixe dinner
Which in typical Katie fashion, I began to devour before I remembered to take a picture of it and before I subsequently inhaled it and began picking at the desserts of my blogger friends. This is also a good place to mention that the quote selected for me by my sorority sisters in college was: “Hey … are you going to eat that?”
I love NYC Restaurant Week!
We met at Rosa Mexicano for what DrunkBrunch has already dubbed "La Cena Bena" on her blog. She has a pretty good summary of the evening so if anyone wants to read about it, I'll let her tell it. And posts like this are why I love FeistyRed - oh, and this, and this, and this.
And this, too. And this. And I'm done for now ... after this.
I will, however, include the camera phone photo ops of my own food.
The appetizer from my three-course prix-fixe dinner
The entrée from my three-course prix-fixe dinner
The dessert from my three-course prix-fixe dinner
Which in typical Katie fashion, I began to devour before I remembered to take a picture of it and before I subsequently inhaled it and began picking at the desserts of my blogger friends. This is also a good place to mention that the quote selected for me by my sorority sisters in college was: “Hey … are you going to eat that?”
I love NYC Restaurant Week!
Monday, January 28, 2008
The City of Diverse Moments
Last night, I had dinner with my new Giant friend. He was running some last minute errands in Manhattan before the team was to leave for Phoenix today and wanted to grab a bite to eat.
I chose a small, inconspicuous Mexican restaurant near my apartment to avoid a scene, and as we were finishing up dinner, a police officer approached the table, "I'm sorry to bother you, but do you play football?" [Clearly not directed at me]
My friend's response: "Yes."
"I knew it!" he exclaimed, "You're [name removed]!" And turning to his partner, "I told you it was [name removed]!"
His partner, approaching the table: "I thought it was you, too, but we were like, 'What's [name removed] doing in this little restaurant in Harlem?"
Then there was a lot of handshaking and, "Bring the Super Bowl back to New York," and "It's an honor to meet you," before they walked away talking about how they couldn't believe it.
Then, the restaurant sent over two Tequila shots on the house. So much for avoiding a scene, but I did appreciate the Tequila.
And today, I had my final presentation for the Founder and the CEO at my company. I stood in the executive conference room as my visual aides flashed on a screen, my palms sweated buckets and I somehow found the words I had been practicing for weeks but momentarily thought I had lost. A few hours ago, I learned I would be on national television. A sudden whim of the Founder's.
Only in New York can you dine with someone headed to play in the Super Bowl, present to a celebrity mogul, and learn you'll be on national television - all within 24 hours. Ok ... maybe stuff like this happens in L.A., but never before to people like me and not once in North Carolina. Regardless, no more details regarding the three will appear in this blog!
I chose a small, inconspicuous Mexican restaurant near my apartment to avoid a scene, and as we were finishing up dinner, a police officer approached the table, "I'm sorry to bother you, but do you play football?" [Clearly not directed at me]
My friend's response: "Yes."
"I knew it!" he exclaimed, "You're [name removed]!" And turning to his partner, "I told you it was [name removed]!"
His partner, approaching the table: "I thought it was you, too, but we were like, 'What's [name removed] doing in this little restaurant in Harlem?"
Then there was a lot of handshaking and, "Bring the Super Bowl back to New York," and "It's an honor to meet you," before they walked away talking about how they couldn't believe it.
Then, the restaurant sent over two Tequila shots on the house. So much for avoiding a scene, but I did appreciate the Tequila.
And today, I had my final presentation for the Founder and the CEO at my company. I stood in the executive conference room as my visual aides flashed on a screen, my palms sweated buckets and I somehow found the words I had been practicing for weeks but momentarily thought I had lost. A few hours ago, I learned I would be on national television. A sudden whim of the Founder's.
Only in New York can you dine with someone headed to play in the Super Bowl, present to a celebrity mogul, and learn you'll be on national television - all within 24 hours. Ok ... maybe stuff like this happens in L.A., but never before to people like me and not once in North Carolina. Regardless, no more details regarding the three will appear in this blog!
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Phone Photo Op - Jolly New York Giant
So my girlfriends and I ended up partying last night with a promoter at a club in the Meatpacking District, who was hosting a table for a few of the New York Giants.
This is my hand next to that of one of their starting defensive players.
Holy moly.
Hope those hands can bring a Super Bowl back to New York.
This is my hand next to that of one of their starting defensive players.
Holy moly.
Hope those hands can bring a Super Bowl back to New York.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Phone Photo Op - Public Service Announcement regarding Public Sexual Acts
Below is a public service phone photo op to warn you about the consequences of performing fellatio in a car parked under a street lamp in the Meatpacking District.
It probably didn't help that one of my friends - in her drunken stupor - yelled, "Oh my God! That girl was giving that guy head!" just as we walked by and the subsequent undercover sting operation ensued.
I wonder if this couple was influenced by the sumos in Midtown.
It probably didn't help that one of my friends - in her drunken stupor - yelled, "Oh my God! That girl was giving that guy head!" just as we walked by and the subsequent undercover sting operation ensued.
I wonder if this couple was influenced by the sumos in Midtown.
Phone Photo Op - Questionable Advertising
Earlier this week (and ironically a few days just before this), I noticed this billboard in midtown while taking car service back to Harlem following late evening errands for my boss. So "Devil Wears Prada," I know.
And I realized this advertisement could be interpreted two ways.
And I realized this advertisement could be interpreted two ways.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)