Phone Photo Ops - City Walk #16

Today's route: The Great White Way and Times Square


Forgettable emporiums


Looking south from 48th Street


Broadway


Looking north from 46th Street


Where the New Year's Eve ball drops


Looking west on 42nd Street


New Victory Theater


Madame Tussaud's


Ripley's Believe it or Not!


Port Authority Bus Terminal


Theater Row


West Bank Cafe

Phone Photo Ops - Harlem Blooms

My God. New York City is beautiful in the Spring.

The day did start out like this ...


... But turned into this ...

Hands On New York volunteers painting, raking and planting
in St. Nicholas Park in Harlem









... And ended like this.

Search-Term Saturday: I Don't Know

According to Site Meter, someone in British Columbia found my blog last Monday by typing the following into the Google search engine:

"how the fuck do new yorkers afford manhattan?"

The referring URL brought them to my blog, which was unlikely to provide them with any answers because ... I DON'T KNOW.

Phone Photo Ops - From This Week

Walking through the East Village with coworkers
to Tuesday's Happy Hour




Flowers in Harlem on Thursday


Broadway Blossoms in Hamilton Heights today

"Things I Love" Thursdays - WeeWorld

My boss is obsessed with the AIM WeeMee. Yes, the 40-year old Senior Vice President. Her WeeMee dances in a disco. So is our Director of Advertising Operations. His WeeMee is underwater and when he types "shark," a shark swims up and bites off his head. Our Digital Brand Manager's WeeMee has on a sunhat and is holding a chocolate bar, a red bag and a "Hillary" sign. The WeeMee of our Digital Advertising Director in Chicago is naked with three little leaves in all the right places, wearing a gold dollar-sign chain and carrying a pina colada and a sword. Mine is in outer space, wearing a basketball jersey (#23 for Terrence) and holding a "Vote for Colbert 2008" sign and carrying an "I am not a Plastic Bag" grocery bag. All the things I love in the WeeWorld. If I type "alien," an alien tears out of her little tummy, she shrieks and then dies for a second.

I [re-]designed it yesterday after weeks of my boss telling me that I needed to update my WeeMee, who was decked out in (RED) gear and standing on a city block next to a fire hydrant. "Update that shit!" she would say whenever she walked by my desk. You have to picture a sophisticated corporate New York woman, who favors Melanie Griffith and whose voice even sounds just like Griffith's in Working Girl (but not the same hairstyle; thank God).

On the way to our division's informal cocktail hour event the other evening, we were walking along 42nd Street to catch the D train down to the East Village, and my boss was discussing the complexities of creating a Wee Mee: "There are just so many options for tops and pants and dresses. And your legs are so short, you just can't tell how shit's going to look." I love working in corporate advertising.

Yesterday, on IM with Terrence, I encouraged him to make his own WeeMee. He's a 6'9" professional basketball player overseas; he didn't really seem interested. Today, I IMed him the link and told him to just check it out.

In between processing expense reports at my desk in Midtown Manhattan - and him sitting in his living room on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, the following conversations ensued:

Me (11:29:38 AM): are you making a WeeMee?
Him (11:30:08 AM): yeah, its hard finding a hair type like mine
Me (11:30:40 AM): LOL
Him (11:40:43 AM): and they dont have black hair so its gotta be brown
Me (11:30:43 AM): you can just put a hat on
Him (11:30:49 AM): i will
Him (11:35:59 AM): i aint gonna lie, this shit is kinda fun
Me (11:37:12 AM): it totally is

Him (11:49:32 AM): im thinkin about puttin mine in the gorilla body suit
Him (11:49:36 AM): should i?
Me (11:49:45 AM): yes
Him (11:54:33 AM): great
Him (11:57:01 AM): microphone or a gold chain?
Him (11:57:08 AM): i really like the gold chain
Me (11:57:12 AM): gold chain

Him (12:35:14 PM): im making a room for my weemee
Him (12:35:22 PM): sad
Me (12:39:15 PM): LOL
Him(12:39:40 PM): did u make a room for yours?
Me (12:40:05 PM): yes
Me (12:40:09 PM): ahem
Him (12:40:30 PM): LOL
Him (12:40:41 PM): LMAO
Him (12:41:35 PM): oh god that was funny
Me (12:42:24 PM): really?
Me (12:42:28 PM): that funny, huh?
Him (12:42:32 PM): yes
Him (12:42:41 PM): we are a bunch of big kids
Him (12:43:33 PM): nah, it was so funny cuz i remember seeing it yesterday and being like, yea yea, whatever
Him (12:43:34 PM): lol
Him (12:43:51 PM): then you sent me the link and i was like....ok ok, i'll take a look at it
Him (12:44:25 PM): 30 minutes later this lil dude has his own environment n shit, fitted up in the flyest gear and im wanting to do more
Him (12:44:46 PM): dont knock it til you try it
Him (12:44:50 PM): prime example

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

73° F Feels like 73° F

To quote weather.com for the 10036.

It’s amazing how quiet the office is when it’s nice outside. But today is just a teaser. The weekend forecast is in the low 50s with thunderstorms.

Phone photo ops from lunch in Bryant Park

There was a photographer standing along the railing just behind the man in the baseball cap. He was taking a photo of this gentlemen reading in the park. I tried to capture both of them, but couldn't find my phone before the photographer moved onto his next subject.


Spring arrives in Midtown

Every text I have received from nightclub/lounge promoters has mentioned the weather to lure the girls out (e.g. "DJ [so-and-so] at [insert "Tenjune", "Home", "Prime", "Kush", "Pink Elephant" etc.] tonight. Say [promoter's name or random password] at the door. [Come have fun and praise the springtime] or [Spring is in the air, come raise a glass] or [It's beautiful outside so join me at ...] or [Did u enjoy the beautiful weather 2day? don't forget 2nite I'll be at ...] or [Spring bling]").

Cerebral Albums

I wish other people could feel moments the way I feel them. The way I capture a moment – an expression mid-sentence, eyes squinted in a laugh, a sideways look, a small achievement or a defining instant, an overall setting – whether it’s intense and intimate or casual and breezy. Maybe others do and just don’t share them out loud.

I don’t know what triggers me to take mental snapshots of my surroundings at any given time. I know that I do this most often when my friends are laughing. But other times, my albums of the cerebrum are unexpected. Like last night, at an informal cocktail hour event with coworkers at a restaurant on East 4th Street between Bowery and Lafayette, when everyone was chatting, laughing and reaching for more antipasti with wine glasses in hand. Suddenly I was unnoticeably quiet. Lightly smiling. Careful not to project my sentimental demeanor to my colleagues. Just watching and listening. And storing to memory.

Maybe my constantly changing landscapes as a military brat have made forgettable moments and random faces a staple in my memory so that reminiscent postures are familiar, proverbial. I could already feel myself, years away from last night. Older. Perhaps wiser. Maybe with wrinkles. No, wait. I can’t imagine myself with wrinkles yet. But I could feel myself in a future time, looking at my mental snapshot and remembering an easily forgettable moment when I was leaning against a heavy, dark oak table along an exposed brick wall, in a dimly-lit East Village restaurant, one arm crossed under my chest, the other elbow anchored at my side and propping the hand holding my glass of red wine pressed under my chin. And I was just looking at my New York life, the people in it, and thinking about how much I love it all.

And I Thought the Seventh Avenue Line Was Bad

What we have to look forward to if New York City doesn't choose to see the bigger picture for Mayor Bloomberg's New York congestion pricing plan (at least, I think there is a bigger picture to be seen beyond the daily inconvenience of higher bridge and tunnel tolls):

http://www.chilloutzone.de/files/08040701.html
I guess they don't really believe that "there is another train directly behind this one."

More about the opposing views
In this corner, fighting for congestion pricing:
Campaign for New York's Future
And in the opposite corner, campaigning against congestion pricing:
Keep NYC Congestion Tax Free

“When two elephants fight, the grass suffers; and, when the same two elephants make love, the grass also suffers.”
- Swahili Proverb

My fellow commuters, we are the grass, as the death of Bloomberg's proposal at the state level meant that New York City would miss the deadline to qualify for $354 million in federal funds for traffic aid.

A Dime a Dozen or Once in a Lifetime

An ex-boyfriend in North Carolina sent me a text message recently, which read: "I'm watching Forrest Gump right now. It makes me think of us." I chuckled at this at first until his response to why was: "A man who spends his whole life lovin a girl who is out chasin her dreams."

It was almost Hitch quotable. Very Sweet Home Alabama-ish. The lives and the "Loves We Leave Behind." I didn't know how to reply to him, but it did spark self-reflection. Not that I ever had half the problems of Forrest's Jenny. It's just that I've always been kind of coming-and-going with men. I remember my mom once commenting about me in between boyfriends on different military bases, "It's 'out of sight, out of mind' with this one."

Very few men - like places - have been able to keep my intimate attention. I have wondered if it's because my youth was saturated with relocation of both people and homes. Yet this common denominator does not carry over to my friendships with my dearest girlfriends, to which I am fiercely loyal despite distance. So I don't know that being raised a military brat is a valid constant. Maybe because a truly sincere friend is slightly harder to find and keep than a decent man. The value I place on the latter is sort of a fish-in-the-sea philosophy while I've shared my innermost thoughts with my closest girls, whether in person or over a phone line. And looking back on my teens, I mourned the ends of friendships more than moving away from boyfriends.

If there is a personal correlation between men and environment, my infatuation with New York City could very well be the love affair of my life. Its constant familiarity and simultaneous change never cease to intrigue me. It gives itself to you in its rawest form and plays hard to get at the same time. It keeps me interested. Like the few who have gone the distance with me.

Yet I wonder - as we choose one life over another - if there will always be that one. Even for someone like me. I guess I'll cross that bridge if I ever have to make a choice that makes New York my "one that got away."

Manhattan + Sunday + Brunch + Friends =

No City Walk today because of too much of this.

Quote of Whenever - Classic Sunday Afternoons in New York City

“A toothless old man just bought me a beer. It’s a good afternoon in Brooklyn.”
- Text message received from BNR at 3:35pm while I was two hours in to my unlimited Sunday brunch mimosas at a restaurant in Manhattan

Not a quote of the day, week or month. Just of whenever. Until the next quote that moves me.

Working It

A corporate colleague of mine is also a professional fitness model. Whenever I talk to her, it's hard to keep eye contact because I'm always looking at her arms. Motivated by the progress I've made at the gym over the last year, I've begun asking her for advice on lifting and nutrition.

Yesterday morning, I ditched the gym because she and I planned to go by GNC after work, where she would recommend a few dietary supplements (nothing hardcore like what she takes - just enough for someone who enjoys lifting but isn't pursing a professional career), and then she worked me out at the gym. I was surprised that she, a professional fitness model who benches her body weight, was impressed with my bench press, my leg press and the fact that I can do push-ups with good form. A lot of women at my gym can. But, boy, is my body sorry today.

Last night, since the gym was closing before I got in some cardio, I decided to walk part of the way home to Harlem. I should have walked up Sixth Avenue so that I could avoid the crowds in Times Square, but before I could think of it, I was almost to Broadway. Just as I made it north of the hustle and bustle under the giant megatrons and was able to resume a brisk pace, I saw this (phone photo op below) and sent it to my best friend.

New York City's Definition of "Bar & Grill"

In North Carolina, when you see the words Bar & Grill, you might correlate the words "neighborhood steak house" and assume that there will be buckets of boiled peanuts on the tables and shells on the floor.

In New York, a bar and grill is more likely to look like this and dinner for two costs over half a grand. Ridiculous but oh, so delicious is this taste of the good life. And it's even more appreciated because it's not mine, but a sample of someone else's.

Last night, I went to Gotham Bar & Grill with a friend for a dinner I could never afford because I'm not an investment banker like him - or that maybe I could afford once in a blue moon if I wasn't paying a quarter of my salary before taxes to my landlord (or almost half my monthly cash flow after federal, state and city taxes devour my paycheck).

Below is the account of my evening in camera-phone-photo essay form.

The night began with Poland Springs water in the car that my friend sent to pick me up from work (because finding a vacant cab in midtown between 5 and 9pm is maddening).


My signature drink (Kettle One and Soda) at the bar.


Studying the amazing three-course menu, which we enjoyed with a bottle of an Australian red wine.


Forgot to take a picture of my first course, which was the Black Bass Ceviche, but here is my second course, the Seafood Salad.


My third course, Juniper Spiced Muscovy Duck Breast.


Our desserts paired with sweet dessert wines.


And Sebastian Bach and his gorgeous wife at the next table (we pretended to be reading a hilarious text message on my phone while tackily snapping a celebrity photo).

Quote of Whenever - The Most Annoying New Yorker

Just when I was thinking about how I'm still a wannabe New Yorker, even though I have a Manhattan address, pay outrageous city taxes, and sport a New York State Driver License, British photographer Nigel Barker hit the nail right on the head in "Six Seconds with Nigel Barker" from a recent edition of Page Six Magazine (a New York Post gossip publication that I don't normally care to read, but was in the seat pocket of the car to Gotham Bar & Grill).

The question: Who do you think is the most annoying New Yorker?

His answer: The kind of New Yorker that irritates me the most is the wannabe - people who say they are from New York and it turns out they moved here four months ago from Ohio.

As a military brat, I've never felt comfortable saying I'm from anywhere. My standard answer to the question that many military brats hesitate to answer is: Everywhere and no where.

I'll never be from New York. But I live here now. And of everywhere I have ever lived, there is no where that makes me feel like this city.

But why does everyone always reference Ohio?

Not a quote of the day, week or month. Just of whenever. Until the next quote that moves me.

"Things I Love" Thursdays - The Empire State Building

It's the icon of New York. If you were chatting with the city on AOL Instant Messenger, its WeeMee would be the Empire State Building with arms, legs and a smiley face.

But what I love most is racing along a midtown sidewalk at your New Yorker-with-a-purpose pace, zigzagging in and out of the human slalom gates, and not thinking about all the touristy things around you. You happen to glance up. There is the Empire State Building towering over you. Suddenly you are a newbie again. And at a little under two years and counting, I guess I still am in the newbie, wannabe New Yorker stage. I guess that's why I can still look up and sometimes actually stop to take a picture with my phone.



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

Gym Pick-Up Lines

Last week, a guy at the gym came up to me just after I finished lifting and as I was getting on the treadmill and asked me, "Are you training for the Olympics?"

This morning while I was laying down on the leg press, he said, "Five months until Beijing."

April Googools

In addition to their competive salaries, employee stock options, free food, lounges with pool tables and video games, and other onsite and offsite job amenities (which make Google the #1 place to work as ranked by Fortune), below is another reason why I wish I worked there (even though I love the job I have now).

My cubicle neighbor in our own midtown high rise - some 26 blocks northeast of Google’s New York corporate office - was chatting online this afternoon with a “Googler.” The highlights from their Internet convo relayed the April Fools’ Day pranks happening at 76 Ninth Avenue: Emails on one of their internal lists were all coming out encrypted using Caesar's 13-letter rotation code, most of their printers were either flashing "Please Insert Coin" or "O HAI I ATED UR PRNT JOBZ,” and their facilities manager threw about 150 rubber snakes all over the office at around 6:30 this morning.

From “Life inside Google” at CNNMoney.com (January 2007):

Of course, when it comes to America's new Best Company to Work For, the food is, well, just the appetizer. At Google you can do your laundry; drop off your dry cleaning; get an oil change, then have your car washed; work out in the gym; attend subsidized exercise classes; get a massage; study Mandarin, Japanese, Spanish, and French; and ask a personal concierge to arrange dinner reservations. Naturally you can get haircuts onsite. Want to buy a hybrid car? The company will give you $5,000 toward that environmentally friendly end. Care to refer a friend to work at Google? Google would like that too, and it'll give you a $2,000 reward. Just have a new baby? Congratulations! Your employer will reimburse you for up to $500 in takeout food to ease your first four weeks at home. Looking to make new friends? Attend a weekly TGIF party, where there's usually a band playing. Five onsite doctors are available to give you a checkup, free of charge.

Many Silicon Valley companies provide shuttle-bus transportation from area train stations. Google operates free, Wi-Fi-enabled coaches from five Bay Area locations. Lactation rooms are common in corporate America; Google provides breast pumps so that nursing moms don't have to haul the equipment to work. Work is such a cozy place that it's sometimes difficult for Google employees to leave the office, which is precisely how the company justifies the expenses, none of which it breaks out of its administrative costs.

Even people who don't work here like to loiter: The company has become a stop on the world lecture circuit, attracting the likes of Mikhail Gorbachev, Margaret Thatcher, and Nobel laureate Muhammad Yunus.

The people at Google, it should be stated, almost universally see themselves as the most interesting people on the planet. Googlers tend to be happy-go-lucky on the outside, but Type A at their core. Ask one what he or she is doing, and it's never "selling ads" or "writing code." No, they're on a quest "to organize the world's information and make it universally accessible and useful." That's from the actual mission statement, by the way, which employees can and do cite with cloying frequency.

It's easy for Google's people to be energized, though, when their company is so stinking rich that it continues to ooze cash even while lavishing benefits on its staff. Just eight years out of the garage, Google will surpass $10 billion in sales for 2006. Its operating margins are a stunning 35%, and it ended the third quarter with $10.4 billion in cash. Its stock has soared from $85 a little over two years ago to a recent $483. All of which raises the question: Is Google's culture the cause of its success or merely a result? Put another way: Is Google a great place to work because its stock is at $483, or is its stock at $483 because it's a great place to work?

I'm sitting on a heated toilet in my pajamas. I'm in engineering building 40 at Google on "pajama day," and directly in front of me, attached to the inside door of the toilet stall, is a one-page flier, printed on plain white paper, titled "Testing on the Toilet, Episode 21." The document, which is designed to prod the brains of engineers who test software code, explores such subjects as "lode coverage" and reminds engineers that even biobreaks need not interrupt their work.

Read more

Gettin' Down With the Dogg

In New York City, you’re more likely to be in a company meeting, where your White, middle-aged, female boss mentions an email she received that very morning from Snoop Dogg.

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

City Walk #15 - Union Square to Madison Square

Card no. 19 - photos
Spend a Saturday the way New Yorkers do.

Begin at 14th Street and Broadway (L, N, A, R, 4, 5, or 6 train to 14th Street).
Union Square, with a statue of Lincoln at the north end and one of Washington on horseback at the south, might be assumed to have been laid out along patriotic lines. In fact, Union refers to the 1831 "union" of the old Bowery road with Broadway. The happy result is the center of a lively neighborhood known for its home-furnishings stores, publishing houses, modeling agencies, and stylish restaurants - the Union Square Cafe (21 E. 16th St.) and Mesa Grill (102 Fifth Ave.) being two of the best. Home to Manhattan's first and largest farmer's market, Union Square is transformed into one of the city's most delightful communal spaces every Saturday, when farmers from within a 100-mile radius of Manhattan arrive with truckloads of fresh produce, flowers, maple syrup, eggs, cheeses, and baked goods. (It's also open Monday, Wednesday and Friday when it draws a much smaller crowd.) Show up early, grab some coffee at the Coffee Shop (corner of Union Square West and 16th), wander the market in the company of New Yorkers at their most cheerful, then head up Broadway to ABC Carpets and Paragon Sports, at Broadway and E. 18th Street. Walk west on 18th to Fifth Avenue and up Fifth to the Flatiron Building, which has been turning heads since it was completed in 1902. On the north side of 23rd Street is Madison Square Park (site of the original Madison Square Gardens), shaded on the east by two of midtown's earliest skyscrapers, the Metropolitan Life Building (1902), at 1 Madison, and the New York Life Insurance Company (1928), at 51 Madison.

From City Walks: New York: 50 Adventures on Foot by Martha Fay

Phone Photo Ops - City Walk #15

Today's route: Union Square to Madison Square


Washington at the south end of Union Square


Dog park in Union Square


Coffee Shop


Lawn perimeter


Lincoln at the north end of Union Square


Looking south on East 17th Street


Paragon Sports


ABC Carpet & Home


Flatiron Building


Madison Square Park


Dogs in Madison Square Park


North end of the park


The lawn is closed October-April


Metropolitan Life Building

All Stops Through Brooklyn

My secret service buddy and I met at Coffee Shop at 8:30pm for a drink before stopping by Trader Joe's Wine Shop on East 14th Street and Union Square Wines & Spirits on Fourth Avenue and beginning our trek to Brooklyn for Amanda, Gina and Ra's Party at the Penthouse (a.k.a. their fourth floor walk-up in Crown Heights).

To alleviate the stress of MTA-imposed, maddening commuter delays, we decided it would be hilarious to take a picture of me swigging a bottle of Drambuie at all the subway stops where we had to wait/transfer due to weekend construction on the A/C line. There is now an impressive slide show of photos in my digital camera featuring me in profile guzzling the golden elixir next to signs for Union Square, Fulton Street, Broadway Nassau Street, Nostrand Avenue, Utica Avenue (because Brooklyn-bound trains were running express with Manhattan-bound trains running local for all bypassed stations), and Kingston-Throop Avenue.

"Given your role with the United States government," I said, "Let's get the legal issues out of the way ..."

"Let's not say illegal. Let's go with ill-advised," he replied.

We both had a pretty good buzz going by the time we arrived at the Penthouse, where the party was already well-underway. However, thanks to an ill-advised mix of Drambuie in transit, Vodka Soda upon arrival and some sugary mix during two rounds of Flip Cup, I was in Ra's bed and asleep by 1am while the party continued well into the night.

I wish I had more fun times to include in my Saturday night report, but I don't know what else happened. End of post.

Pajamas & Couch Night

Ra and I went to a lounge in Chelsea for Happy Hour on Thursday night, where our good friend was DJing. After turning down a promoter's complimentary dinner starting at 10pm on Little West 12th Street followed by drinks and dancing at a nearby club, we were both back in Brooklyn and Harlem respectively before nine o'clock and asleep by ten.

We had ambitious hopes for a Friday night out, but you know it's been a long, hard week when two 20-something New Yorkers pass up another promoter's complimentary dinner in the Meatpacking District and a table at Tenjune. Or maybe we're getting over the clubs, restaurant openings and velvet rope parties that are so exciting when you're new to the city. Or maybe we are unwilling to admit that we can't party in our late-20s like we did in college.

Friday afternoon we were comparing text messages we had received from promoters inviting us to various clubs in attempt to lock down a plan that we both knew we would likely bail on later. By the time I left the office, we were texting each other and relieved that we both felt the same way. All for pajamas and couch night? Say, "Aaaaaaaah."

Besides, Iris had to attend a Fashion Show in Brooklyn, Tasha is out of town for a wedding, and Mayra - though she vowed to continue with an active night life as long she can still fit in her club clothes - is in the uncomfortable phase of the first trimester of her pregnancy. Tonight, however, we're gathering at Ra's apartment in Brooklyn for a house party. Wine and hard liquor for all and Virgin Bloody Marys for Mayra. Full report tomorrow.

"Things I Love" Thursdays - Ken Rosato & Lori Stokes

Ken Rosato and Lori Stokes are co-anchors for Eyewitness News This Morning and Eyewitness News at Noon in New York City (Channel 7 - ABC). I am only able to tune in between 5:30 and 6am while I blend my protein shake and get ready for the gym, but they often amuse me within that 30-minute window.

I particularly love the snickers and snorts of muffled laughter that you hear in the background during humorous news clips. Like yesterday during a clip of a carjacking that took place while a news crew was actually interviewing police officers nearby. I had to snort at that one, too.

Metro Traffic Agent Joe Nolan and meteorologist Bill Evans have cool TV personalities, too, even though the latter's Accuview Forecast has inaccurately sent me to work with my wellies and it barely rained or rained at all. On more than one occasion.

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

Forces of Gravity

I'm watching Tokii on TBS right now. Her second Wednesday on prime time. Mutual friends call me during commercial breaks. Excited text messages beep in periodically.

I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that she is in a small recurring role on national television. I stare at the TV. I hear her. But I don't comprehend her lines. I gawk at the screen. Agape. I see her. But it's not registering. It's not her voice. It's not her accent. It's not her humor. She's hilarious in real life, but the woman on the screen is different. It's not the person I've known for a decade and lived with in college.

Terrence called from England last week after her first episode ended. It doesn't air there and he wanted to know all about it. Across the ocean, he listened to me babble like an excited school girl and strained to hear clips while I rewound and fast-forwarded through the show and held the phone to the television during her lines. He said that I sounded like the first time he watched his best friend play in the NBA.

Oscar Wilde once said, "Anybody can sympathize with the sufferings of a friend, but it requires a very fine nature, in fact, the nature of a true Individualist, to sympathize with a friend's success."

I believe that with every fiber of my being and consider it a true measure of your love for someone else. There is no way to describe the simultaneous disbelief, pride, joy that I feel right now. Just throw my arms in the air at the crest of the roller coaster and scream, "Woo hoo!"

Chicken Little

You never know what random array of miscellaneous-ness might be strewn throughout the hallways of my apartment building. A used diaper. A broken 40-ounce inside a soaked paper bag. A condom wrapper.

Phone Photo Op - This morning, there was a chicken leg.


Yes, $1200 a month for a 350-square foot apartment. Drumsticks gnawed to the bone included at no extra charge.

"In Washington, the first thing people tell you is what their job is. In Los Angeles you learn their star sign. In Houston you're told how rich they are. And in New York they tell you what their rent is."- Simon Hoggart

Furniture and the City

City Wendy sent out an email today that may interest New York City residents who are in the market for furniture:

Hey New York friends,
I need your help. I finally had my stuff delivered from storage in Chicago last week and now I need to unload things that don't quite fit in our apartment here. I've been able to find homes for quite a bit on Craigslist but still have a couple of items hanging on. Perhaps some of you are searching for the perfect little dinette set for a small space, or a great, super sturdy mission style coffee table? If not, please feel free to forward this to anyone you think might be interested (also, if we have mutual friends, please forward this along. I seem to be missing quite a few email addresses). I've included pictures and the details are below. Please note, I'm flexible on the prices, but I can't provide delivery. Mahogany coffee table measures 54" x 30" and is 18" tall and I'm asking $150 for it.The dinette set is 24" x 24" and is 30" tall and I'm asking $60.
Thanks so much!!Wendy

Click here for more information and photos

I only have a bed, a bedside table, couch, end table, a book shelf and a rolling laptop cart in my studio apartment, and I couldn't fit even her dinette set in my apartment. And it reminds me of this. And I sigh. And I laugh. And I love this New York life anyway.

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!