“Sing to me one song for joy, and one for redemption
And whatever’s in between that I call mine
With the street lamp light to illuminate the gray
And the bells of New York City calling me to stay”
Throughout my stay in the city, I have often wondered about these “bells” that Josh Groban sings of. The only sounds I hear are screeching trains, wailing sirens, honking cabdrivers and hurried, angry pedestrians. I was going to close out my summer chronicles with (yet another) list of the things I’ve learned over the course of a few months here, but these past few days can no longer be repressed in my memory and I believe that my lessons will manifest themselves in the adventures here detailed.
From the day I decided to accept this internship in the city, my goal was to meet one of the city’s most valuable (in my opinion) residents: Josh Groban. Though he’s currently on tour, he often spends spare days at home in NYC and tweets about the things that he does. It always happened that he was in the same place that I had been just a day or hours earlier. I had pretty much given up hope of seeing him until yesterday when he was asked to co-host Regis and Kelly as well as David Letterman. Well you can bet that I was up hours before the sun to wait in line for R&K! I got to the studio at 4AM, how’s that for dedication! Ineffective dedication, I’m afraid. At 9AM, it became abundantly obvious that they would be taking no more of the standby line. I was pretty bummed, but girls in front of me were literally sobbing. We watched the show on a nine inch screen outside of the studio until, to our great exhilaration, Josh made his exit and came to speak to us! I got his autograph and talked to him for a brief minute and captured a couple of creepy photographs when he got back into his car.
By that time, I had made friends with the other Grobanites who were waiting for his appearance. We had spent six hours waiting together. The more I talked to them, the more I put together the pieces that led me to the understanding that there is an entire Grobanite subculture that exists—a family of people who know each other only by their FOJG (Friends of Josh Groban) usernames and who are identifiable by the tattoos of Josh’s autograph on their wrists. The six women I met that day were so eager to welcome me into their fan club—literally. Though they had never met each other (or me, for that matter) we were soon bonded over shared experiences and an adoration for the same musical genius. We got tickets to see David Letterman where Josh would be singing the “Top 10,” and we went to have lunch in Times Square while we waited until the show would be taped later that afternoon. This is where Lesson #1: Talk to People comes in. I have learned that everyone has a story to tell, and in my (somewhat limited) experience, I have not yet met an exception to the rule that everyone wants to be heard. On this day, I learned so many things about some incredible women. They all had crazy stories about following Josh and hanging out with him—they know his dog, his mom, where he lives, you name it—and though it sounds moderately creepy now that I’m writing it out, I had a truly fascinating day wandering around with my new pals.
That night, I had dinner at my apartment with the small and close knit group of friends with whom I have spent most of my time here in the city. They offered to help me pack, but when they tried to come into my room we realized (again) that it is much too small for more than one person to be moving about. So instead we had a good Lesson #2: Laugh and poured ourselves some glasses of wine while we watched the Bachelor downstairs. Laughing is an absolute necessity no matter where you are, but in the city you must maintain a sense of humor at the risk of becoming completely cold and hardened by your surroundings. There are so many things that can be distracting, annoying, even downright painful (ahem, carrying 40lbs of books for 30 blocks), that you must make a conscious effort to find humor in all situations. It is always there.
After a sweet farewell to my boss and the rest of the company today, I skipped home to pack, have one last dinner with friends, and head to the Groban concert in Newark. Although I originally planned on Lesson #3: Being Independent, I ended up meeting a few of my new Groban-subculture friends to sit with at the show. The concert was an experience unlike any other. It was simple in nature, lacking (for the better) pyrotechnics and fancy backdrops. Josh was engaged with the audience and the music was—for lack of a more appropriate word—perfect. For a solid 3 hours my moderately neurotic, 2-steps-ahead-brain wasn’t worried about the un-packed bags in my room or a 7AM checkout. The music was captivating, the entertainment unparalleled, and I was completely content to live fully in my last few moments of big city summer.
The final lesson and the most difficult for me—even now to write—is Lesson #4: Feel things deeply. These past few months have held some of the highest and lowest moments in my life—from being alone and sorely out of place to pure elation, adoration of the city—and they have witnessed an unusual reaction on my behalf. Looking up at the illuminated Empire State Building and the NYC skyline as I walked down darkened 34th street for the last time, I realized that I too can hear “the bells of New York City singing all around.” It truly is a magical place, a place for dreams. This city and this summer, the people I’ve met and the characters I’ve merely seen will forever hold a place in my heart and my memory. I can’t say what I’ll be doing this time tomorrow, much less in a year, 10 years—but I know that a part of me will always belong in a tiny corner at the end of West 34th Street, New York, New York.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
Freedom
“Freedom is the opportunity to be what we never thought we’d be.”
I read this line on a commemorative stone leading up to the Statue of Liberty today. Suddenly I realized that nothing could more aptly describe my summer in the city, the lessons I’ve learned, and the person I’ve become as a result my experiences over the last two months.
It has taken this long to realize that this summer has been an exercise of my own freedom: I came here not knowing a soul, with no idea what my internship would entail and no roadmap for a successful trajectory in the streets of this huge melting pot or in my personal life. The beauty of this city—this whole life, really—is that no path is the same. We blaze our own trails! I feel that this summer has been my personal tutorial in doing just that.
For the first time in my life, I was placed in a situation where I must actively seek the things I desired: new friends, adventures, contacts for future endeavors, and of course cultural stimulation. There is no better place to do these things than in NYC, and at times no place more challenging. How in the world can you find a kindred spirit in a city obsessed with anonymity? How do you choose what to do when you get off work at 11PM and there are still millions of things to see and do?
Luckily for me, I have met so many people since my arrival in early June, and a couple of them I truly believe will remain a part of my life forever. The most valuable thing that I have learned, however, is to figure out what I want and just do it—regardless of who is with me and what other people think. I don’t consider myself a loner, but nowadays I have no qualms going to dinner or seeing a show or movie by myself. I’ve found that there’s something to be said for a balance between good company and doing things on my own.
Yesterday, for example, I had much of the day off because I had fulfilled my 30 hour work week, so I took the opportunity to do some wandering. I opted for my favorite anti-plan: choose a starting point and go from there. I started at St. John the Divine, the world’s largest Cathedral (hooolllly cow it was big), read my book for hours in the quad at Columbia University, and walked by Riverside Park. That night, for the first time, I went to hear an author that I like, and got her to sign my copy of her book. I realized that I could wear my most hipster t-shirt (it was still J.Crew), paint my nails seafoam green, check off three restaurants from my to-do list (yes, all three meals were dessert), and drink tap water from a wine glass in my little bedroom. I can literally be anyone I want to be—undefined, unwritten. It took coming to New York for me to realize this, but I hope that everyone has this epiphany at some point because it is one of the most liberating feelings in the world!
At the risk of entering the realm of the prematurely sentimental, I’ll add one more thought that’s been running through my mind over the past few days, and it is this: If you were to ask random people on the streets when one becomes a “real New Yorker,” you would obtain a variety of responses ranging from “being able to find your way home from any point in the five boroughs” to “the first time you got mugged.” Personally, I believe that moment is when you can acknowledge the city for what it is. Something indefinable and yet understood by all who have spent enough time here to see the ups and downs. You learn to roll with the punches, to make good of what is handed to you even if it rains on your day off or subway construction lands you in unknown territory. Sometimes it feels like the city is out to get you, and then you happen upon some little piece of paradise--like being at 42nd and 5th at just the right time to see the sun go down and fill the street with glowing, glittering luster; or when you descend the subway stairs just as the train arrives at your platform. Some days, it’s more obvious. You’re struggling with a 200lb rolling suitcase full of hardcover books in the pouring rain and just when you’re ready to push the bane of your existence into the tracks of an oncoming train, you look up and there, scrawled almost illegibly on the beam upholding the station, is simply the word “pray;” a gentle yet powerful reminder to slow down and be grateful—to find the beauty in all things. That's when you know that out of anywhere in the whole world, you're right where you're meant to be.
I read this line on a commemorative stone leading up to the Statue of Liberty today. Suddenly I realized that nothing could more aptly describe my summer in the city, the lessons I’ve learned, and the person I’ve become as a result my experiences over the last two months.
It has taken this long to realize that this summer has been an exercise of my own freedom: I came here not knowing a soul, with no idea what my internship would entail and no roadmap for a successful trajectory in the streets of this huge melting pot or in my personal life. The beauty of this city—this whole life, really—is that no path is the same. We blaze our own trails! I feel that this summer has been my personal tutorial in doing just that.
For the first time in my life, I was placed in a situation where I must actively seek the things I desired: new friends, adventures, contacts for future endeavors, and of course cultural stimulation. There is no better place to do these things than in NYC, and at times no place more challenging. How in the world can you find a kindred spirit in a city obsessed with anonymity? How do you choose what to do when you get off work at 11PM and there are still millions of things to see and do?
Luckily for me, I have met so many people since my arrival in early June, and a couple of them I truly believe will remain a part of my life forever. The most valuable thing that I have learned, however, is to figure out what I want and just do it—regardless of who is with me and what other people think. I don’t consider myself a loner, but nowadays I have no qualms going to dinner or seeing a show or movie by myself. I’ve found that there’s something to be said for a balance between good company and doing things on my own.
Yesterday, for example, I had much of the day off because I had fulfilled my 30 hour work week, so I took the opportunity to do some wandering. I opted for my favorite anti-plan: choose a starting point and go from there. I started at St. John the Divine, the world’s largest Cathedral (hooolllly cow it was big), read my book for hours in the quad at Columbia University, and walked by Riverside Park. That night, for the first time, I went to hear an author that I like, and got her to sign my copy of her book. I realized that I could wear my most hipster t-shirt (it was still J.Crew), paint my nails seafoam green, check off three restaurants from my to-do list (yes, all three meals were dessert), and drink tap water from a wine glass in my little bedroom. I can literally be anyone I want to be—undefined, unwritten. It took coming to New York for me to realize this, but I hope that everyone has this epiphany at some point because it is one of the most liberating feelings in the world!
At the risk of entering the realm of the prematurely sentimental, I’ll add one more thought that’s been running through my mind over the past few days, and it is this: If you were to ask random people on the streets when one becomes a “real New Yorker,” you would obtain a variety of responses ranging from “being able to find your way home from any point in the five boroughs” to “the first time you got mugged.” Personally, I believe that moment is when you can acknowledge the city for what it is. Something indefinable and yet understood by all who have spent enough time here to see the ups and downs. You learn to roll with the punches, to make good of what is handed to you even if it rains on your day off or subway construction lands you in unknown territory. Sometimes it feels like the city is out to get you, and then you happen upon some little piece of paradise--like being at 42nd and 5th at just the right time to see the sun go down and fill the street with glowing, glittering luster; or when you descend the subway stairs just as the train arrives at your platform. Some days, it’s more obvious. You’re struggling with a 200lb rolling suitcase full of hardcover books in the pouring rain and just when you’re ready to push the bane of your existence into the tracks of an oncoming train, you look up and there, scrawled almost illegibly on the beam upholding the station, is simply the word “pray;” a gentle yet powerful reminder to slow down and be grateful—to find the beauty in all things. That's when you know that out of anywhere in the whole world, you're right where you're meant to be.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
better make it count because you can't make it last!
With exactly a week remaining of my big city summer, it has become incumbent upon me to spend every instant in pursuit of new adventures. I had much of today free of work, so I set about this endeavor in my absolute favorite manner. I had only two goals for the day: to see Fraunces Tavern and St. John the Divine. I began with Fraunces Tavern, as it is at the bottom of the island, and planned to work my way up. Well, when I ventured down to the tavern where George Washington said farewell to his troops at the end of the Revolutionary War, I realized that I also wanted to see the former City Hall which was coincidentally the State and Nation’s capitol and where Washington was inaugurated! This led me to the Stock Exchange (I chuckled to myself as I stood behind the huge statue of GW and realized that he looks out on the very emblem of capitalism) which led me to Trinity Church, where Alexander Hamilton is buried. There was a pops band playing in the courtyard of the church, and I plopped down in the company of some fancy Wall Street suits to enjoy the music and read my book for a few minutes.
I went on my merry way after realizing that sitting still wasn’t getting me too far in the way of new sights! I meandered around the financial district a bit more, scoping out the Chrysler Building and NYC’s first skyscraper before heading to Union Square. I hadn’t planned on stopping there, but as I was walking I got a hankering for something sweet and knew just where to go. I have been following Big Gay Ice Cream on Twitter all summer and have heard rave reviews about this truck that travels around the city selling ice cream, but until today have never been in the right place at the right time. Well I found the truck and as I waited in the line that stretched halfway down the block, I watched as a young guy got down on one knee and proposed to his girlfriend with the ring and an ice cream cone! It was SUPER sweet (woah, no pun intended), and the guys that own the truck jumped up and down squealing and expressing their joy that now they too can get married in their home state.
The proposal was of course exciting, but it can’t hold a candle to “The Salty Pimp.” AKA—My ice cream cone. The cone was drizzled in caramel, sprinkled with sea salt, filled with vanilla, drizzled/sprinkled again, and dipped in chocolate. You haven’t LIVED until you have had a Salty Pimp! It put me in a good mood on my way to the office to get ready for tonight’s event.
An event it was—my generally eclectic crowd at the NYC Public Library was no less so tonight, though the speaker is a fashion editor for TIME Magazine and author of a book about Michelle Obama’s “power of style.” The attendees were primarily black females, with the exception of an Asian woman and one snickering, ”hmmphing” gentleman in the back. When the speaker was finished, he raised his hand to ask a question but instead informed the author that her topic of choice was “mere fluff” and that it was a waste of time and energy to continue to write about fashion. As you can imagine, the already rough crowd became incited; they argued about the importance of her topic from every angle from women’s suffrage to slavery. When an Asian woman with barely discernable English spoke up to criticize Michelle Obama for not wearing her hair naturally, the remaining audience became positively incensed. I was incredibly uncomfortable—I felt bad for the speaker as well as for her husband and young daughter who had not yet heard her speak since the book was recently released—and was counting the seconds until the host took control and ended the firing session.
Until just now, I had forgotten that last night’s event held a bit of an awkward moment as well. I was at the Princeton Club—it is just as hoity-toity as it sounds. It was a political event, and everyone was dressed to the nines. As members of the club toasted champagne and partook of their filet mignon, the speaker joked that he might need to take his jacket as a result of the New York heat. At that moment, all knives stopped cutting. No glasses clinked. Not a word was spoken until, just audibly, an old man at the table next to me grouched “and what? Be half naked?” The speaker stumbled over his words and muttered something about a joke and a tough crowd before straightening his tie and shoving his hands into his pockets. The rest of the evening went smoothly if not uneventfully, for which I was eternally grateful.
Monday night’s event was far more enjoyable even though it was equally fancy. It was a glamorous rooftop gala honoring two Jewish authors. The curator befriended me immediately upon arrival, and throughout the entire program slipped me handwritten notes under the table. By the time I realized that these notes were composed in Hebrew, it was too late to tell her I didn’t understand/wasn’t Jewish. We were already besties. She hugged me when I left, and I added her to the list of Jewish people who for some reason think I am one of them. On this list she joined the ranks of the man who held an hour long conversation with me about how much easier it is to be Jewish in Sweden (they follow all of the eating rules) and a woman I met on the train who wanted to bond over the difficulty of finding “a good Jewish boy.” I can’t be sure, but I don’t think it’s the blond hair/blue eyes combo that makes them think I’m one of them. Whatever it is, I hope it sticks around. This list is definitely one of my favorites.
In the vein of soaking up every minute, I am about to head out to see Harry Potter. I know I’m a terrible fan, that it’s almost 11, that I could conceivably watch HP when I get home—but it’s in IMAX! And I really want to see it. I never made it to St. John the Divine today, but hey, that's what tomorrow's for!So I will be posting soon about all of the rest of the things I can cram into the last few days, making them count!
I went on my merry way after realizing that sitting still wasn’t getting me too far in the way of new sights! I meandered around the financial district a bit more, scoping out the Chrysler Building and NYC’s first skyscraper before heading to Union Square. I hadn’t planned on stopping there, but as I was walking I got a hankering for something sweet and knew just where to go. I have been following Big Gay Ice Cream on Twitter all summer and have heard rave reviews about this truck that travels around the city selling ice cream, but until today have never been in the right place at the right time. Well I found the truck and as I waited in the line that stretched halfway down the block, I watched as a young guy got down on one knee and proposed to his girlfriend with the ring and an ice cream cone! It was SUPER sweet (woah, no pun intended), and the guys that own the truck jumped up and down squealing and expressing their joy that now they too can get married in their home state.
An event it was—my generally eclectic crowd at the NYC Public Library was no less so tonight, though the speaker is a fashion editor for TIME Magazine and author of a book about Michelle Obama’s “power of style.” The attendees were primarily black females, with the exception of an Asian woman and one snickering, ”hmmphing” gentleman in the back. When the speaker was finished, he raised his hand to ask a question but instead informed the author that her topic of choice was “mere fluff” and that it was a waste of time and energy to continue to write about fashion. As you can imagine, the already rough crowd became incited; they argued about the importance of her topic from every angle from women’s suffrage to slavery. When an Asian woman with barely discernable English spoke up to criticize Michelle Obama for not wearing her hair naturally, the remaining audience became positively incensed. I was incredibly uncomfortable—I felt bad for the speaker as well as for her husband and young daughter who had not yet heard her speak since the book was recently released—and was counting the seconds until the host took control and ended the firing session.
Until just now, I had forgotten that last night’s event held a bit of an awkward moment as well. I was at the Princeton Club—it is just as hoity-toity as it sounds. It was a political event, and everyone was dressed to the nines. As members of the club toasted champagne and partook of their filet mignon, the speaker joked that he might need to take his jacket as a result of the New York heat. At that moment, all knives stopped cutting. No glasses clinked. Not a word was spoken until, just audibly, an old man at the table next to me grouched “and what? Be half naked?” The speaker stumbled over his words and muttered something about a joke and a tough crowd before straightening his tie and shoving his hands into his pockets. The rest of the evening went smoothly if not uneventfully, for which I was eternally grateful.
Monday night’s event was far more enjoyable even though it was equally fancy. It was a glamorous rooftop gala honoring two Jewish authors. The curator befriended me immediately upon arrival, and throughout the entire program slipped me handwritten notes under the table. By the time I realized that these notes were composed in Hebrew, it was too late to tell her I didn’t understand/wasn’t Jewish. We were already besties. She hugged me when I left, and I added her to the list of Jewish people who for some reason think I am one of them. On this list she joined the ranks of the man who held an hour long conversation with me about how much easier it is to be Jewish in Sweden (they follow all of the eating rules) and a woman I met on the train who wanted to bond over the difficulty of finding “a good Jewish boy.” I can’t be sure, but I don’t think it’s the blond hair/blue eyes combo that makes them think I’m one of them. Whatever it is, I hope it sticks around. This list is definitely one of my favorites.
In the vein of soaking up every minute, I am about to head out to see Harry Potter. I know I’m a terrible fan, that it’s almost 11, that I could conceivably watch HP when I get home—but it’s in IMAX! And I really want to see it. I never made it to St. John the Divine today, but hey, that's what tomorrow's for!So I will be posting soon about all of the rest of the things I can cram into the last few days, making them count!
Sunday, July 24, 2011
the devil called. he wants his weather back.
So. Dang. Hot. I would venture to say the defining feature of this weekend—beyond the best friends visit, the Harlem Book festival, and many things crossed off the list—is the heatapocalypse that is suffocating the city right now. It’s all anyone can talk about, because it’s all anyone can think about. It is hotter here than it is in Baton Rouge or Mobile, and more humid. The air is static between the buildings and hangs like a heavy coat, and I am currently (and seriously) considering going to sleep on the air conditioned subway like a hobo.
I met Cam and Morgs at the airport late Thursday night. We ran past the security at my building so that they could sneak in without having to pay for a room. We couldn’t believe that it worked! We did the same thing the entire weekend, sneaking in and out and pretending to put our keys in the mailbox as is building protocol. It was an adrenaline rush every time. The air mattress they brought covered the extent of my floor space, but it worked out perfectly. We woke up after about three hours to head to the Goo Goo Dolls concert at Good Morning America. By 5:30AM, we had walked across Central Park to get to the stage, and were soaked through and through with sweat. 5:30AM!!! We were glad to be up early to get to pack the day with fun New York activities, and we headed to Chinatown after the concert.
In Chinatown we visited several of the sketchiest operations in existence, made some illicit purchases, and ate at an infamous side street tea room. Perhaps the best part of our day were the hours we spent perusing 4 floors of Tiffany & Co, each of us choosing our favorite jewels and dreaming in Tiffany Blue. We enjoyed a little pick me up in the form of Starbucks at the Trump Tower Plaza and imagined a return trip in the years ahead, thinking of all the turns our lives will soon be taking. Afterward, we walked down the street to a place called Milk Bar, which is famous for their “life changing cakeballs.” Life changing they were—like heaven to our taste buds. SO YUMMY! We went back today so that the girls could take some home to their friends (and get one more for ourselves, of course.)
After a good nap and shower, we went out to eat and walked along the Hudson River. We caught it just as the sun was setting and had a lovely time singing and dancing under the strings of lights on the pier. We headed to the airport to pick Clayton up, but when we got off of the train at Harlem to catch the airport shuttle, we were perturbed to see it pulling away. We ran 3 blocks (in Harlem, at night), but to no avail. The bus just kept on rolling. So we got ourselves some Michelob Ultras and hopped back on that subway headed home. We decided that was the epitome of youth—drinking beer out of paper bags on the subway in New York City. In hindsight that actually sounds more like alcoholism.
Saturday saw my return to Harlem in the form of an intern task. I had to work at the Harlem Book Festival all day. I was dreading it with all I was worth, but even though I was very much out of my element it actually turned out pretty neat. The street was lined with tents of authors, publishers, and booksellers; some famous, some not. After my work duties were over, I checked something off my list that I didn’t even know was on there—SOUL FOOD IN HARLEM. Yep, I walked over to the food festival on the cross street and had the best fried chicken and grape juice of my whole life. I don’t know what they put in that food, but it was SO GOOD!
When I finally got home, Cameron and Morgan came back from their shopping day in SoHo and we got dressed to meet up with Clayton and go to dinner. Because of subway construction, we ended up wandering across the Brooklyn Bridge. Possibly one of the funniest moments of the night was when we hopped in a cab headed back for Manhattan, Cameron in the front seat giving the driver instructions on how to get back across the bridge and to our restaurant of choice. We went to the Bridge Café, which turned out to be the perfect choice. There were no tourists (except for us…) and the food and ambiance was kind of glamorous! At that moment and in our subsequent walk along the cobblestone street, I realized there was no place I would rather be and with no other company. We laughed, sang and danced (to poor Clayton’s amusement) as we strolled down the street arm in arm. We took the Staten Island ferry—one of my favorite things to do, as you can probably tell by now—and basked in the glow of the city lights, the water breeze and perfect camaraderie.
This morning we rose from our restless slumber to hit a few last places before the girls had to catch their plane. At the Museum of Modern Art, I had one of those strange, life assessment moments alone: I found myself standing in a window box on the 5th floor in the exact place I stood nearly 10 years ago on my first visit to the city. I remember my exact thoughts at that moment, a dream that I would one day come to New York to stay. I had fallen in love with the city over the course of a short visit. Today—for the first time—I realized that am living my dream. What an incredible feeling! I took in the surrounding sky scrapers and the streets below and wondered where in the world I will be ten years from now, and what dream I will be living at that point.
The girls just left for the airport after a morning at the MoMA and a walk through the Plaza. We got matching coffee cups to commemorate the trip (lame?), and laughed as we pictured ourselves cheers-ing on a veranda in a couple of years remembering our weekend in the city. As they ran past the security guard for the last time, I realized how sad I am for them to leave and that I cannot wait to be back in the South with my best friends!
I met Cam and Morgs at the airport late Thursday night. We ran past the security at my building so that they could sneak in without having to pay for a room. We couldn’t believe that it worked! We did the same thing the entire weekend, sneaking in and out and pretending to put our keys in the mailbox as is building protocol. It was an adrenaline rush every time. The air mattress they brought covered the extent of my floor space, but it worked out perfectly. We woke up after about three hours to head to the Goo Goo Dolls concert at Good Morning America. By 5:30AM, we had walked across Central Park to get to the stage, and were soaked through and through with sweat. 5:30AM!!! We were glad to be up early to get to pack the day with fun New York activities, and we headed to Chinatown after the concert.
In Chinatown we visited several of the sketchiest operations in existence, made some illicit purchases, and ate at an infamous side street tea room. Perhaps the best part of our day were the hours we spent perusing 4 floors of Tiffany & Co, each of us choosing our favorite jewels and dreaming in Tiffany Blue. We enjoyed a little pick me up in the form of Starbucks at the Trump Tower Plaza and imagined a return trip in the years ahead, thinking of all the turns our lives will soon be taking. Afterward, we walked down the street to a place called Milk Bar, which is famous for their “life changing cakeballs.” Life changing they were—like heaven to our taste buds. SO YUMMY! We went back today so that the girls could take some home to their friends (and get one more for ourselves, of course.)
After a good nap and shower, we went out to eat and walked along the Hudson River. We caught it just as the sun was setting and had a lovely time singing and dancing under the strings of lights on the pier. We headed to the airport to pick Clayton up, but when we got off of the train at Harlem to catch the airport shuttle, we were perturbed to see it pulling away. We ran 3 blocks (in Harlem, at night), but to no avail. The bus just kept on rolling. So we got ourselves some Michelob Ultras and hopped back on that subway headed home. We decided that was the epitome of youth—drinking beer out of paper bags on the subway in New York City. In hindsight that actually sounds more like alcoholism.
Saturday saw my return to Harlem in the form of an intern task. I had to work at the Harlem Book Festival all day. I was dreading it with all I was worth, but even though I was very much out of my element it actually turned out pretty neat. The street was lined with tents of authors, publishers, and booksellers; some famous, some not. After my work duties were over, I checked something off my list that I didn’t even know was on there—SOUL FOOD IN HARLEM. Yep, I walked over to the food festival on the cross street and had the best fried chicken and grape juice of my whole life. I don’t know what they put in that food, but it was SO GOOD!
When I finally got home, Cameron and Morgan came back from their shopping day in SoHo and we got dressed to meet up with Clayton and go to dinner. Because of subway construction, we ended up wandering across the Brooklyn Bridge. Possibly one of the funniest moments of the night was when we hopped in a cab headed back for Manhattan, Cameron in the front seat giving the driver instructions on how to get back across the bridge and to our restaurant of choice. We went to the Bridge Café, which turned out to be the perfect choice. There were no tourists (except for us…) and the food and ambiance was kind of glamorous! At that moment and in our subsequent walk along the cobblestone street, I realized there was no place I would rather be and with no other company. We laughed, sang and danced (to poor Clayton’s amusement) as we strolled down the street arm in arm. We took the Staten Island ferry—one of my favorite things to do, as you can probably tell by now—and basked in the glow of the city lights, the water breeze and perfect camaraderie.
This morning we rose from our restless slumber to hit a few last places before the girls had to catch their plane. At the Museum of Modern Art, I had one of those strange, life assessment moments alone: I found myself standing in a window box on the 5th floor in the exact place I stood nearly 10 years ago on my first visit to the city. I remember my exact thoughts at that moment, a dream that I would one day come to New York to stay. I had fallen in love with the city over the course of a short visit. Today—for the first time—I realized that am living my dream. What an incredible feeling! I took in the surrounding sky scrapers and the streets below and wondered where in the world I will be ten years from now, and what dream I will be living at that point.
The girls just left for the airport after a morning at the MoMA and a walk through the Plaza. We got matching coffee cups to commemorate the trip (lame?), and laughed as we pictured ourselves cheers-ing on a veranda in a couple of years remembering our weekend in the city. As they ran past the security guard for the last time, I realized how sad I am for them to leave and that I cannot wait to be back in the South with my best friends!
Sunday, July 17, 2011
old & new
I woke up at 5AM yesterday, and upon realizing that I had no direction for my day decided to catch the next bus to Boston. Before I knew it, I was sitting at the top of a double-decker, sipping a glass of orange juice as the New England panorama raced by. Elizabeth Fair, one of my dearest old friends was waiting for me at the station when I arrived a few hours later. Together the two of us and her roommate Caroline made our way into the city. Because they attend Boston College, they were the best tour guides anyone could ask for. We traveled the brick path that leads through the city, along the way visiting sites like the North Church and the graveyard where Mother Goose and Paul Revere are buried. We had cannoli at the famous Mike’s Pastry Shop and paid a visit to Fenway Stadium, home of the Red Sox. Experiencing these iconic places was an incredible feeling. We were all giddy as we walked from street to street, passing beautiful architecture and famously historic sites all the while. The atmosphere was altogether different from NYC: slower, somehow, and with an air of antiquity as if the ghosts of Paul Revere and George Washington are just out of reach. The best part of the day was sitting on a dock in the Boston Harbor, feet dangling in the water as the sun slipped behind the skyline. We took in the city bathed in gold as hundreds of sailboats made their ways back to the shore.
I made it back to NYC around 3 this morning with a new city added to my list of favorites. My day in Boston will always be counted among fondest memories. This week has held many of my top moments of the summer. Earlier in the week I had an event with Thomas Lennon and Ben Garant, television and movie actors, and the writers of many movies including Night at the Museum and Balls of Fury. It was my first extended encounter with movie stars, and I got to know them very well over the course of the evening.
I met some less famous authors the following night at the KGB Bar. The name probably should have warned me, but I was still taken by surprise when I walked into a small red bar with communist flags and Russian Socialist propaganda covering the walls. The hammer and sickle were prominently displayed on every surface, including glasses, bar stools—you name it. I couldn’t make this up. I was genuinely disturbed for a greater portion of the event, even though the books were NYT Bestsellers and the authors were very genial. As it turns out, the bar is merely a well preserved former-socialist-headquarters-turned-literary-hotspot. That’s a mouthful. Regardless, it was definitely an interesting (?) experience that I likely would never have had otherwise (for better or worse…).
But the best part of my week—and I know I’ve already mentioned this—was being able to come home after work and hang out with Courtney. There is nothing like sitting on the rooftop of your apartment looking out on the glowing Empire State Building and the city lights with your best friend right beside you and a glass of wine in hand. It’s the simple things, right? We swapped summer stories and caught up on weeks past, and finally bid adieu before the sun could rise again and see her on her way back to Mobtown.
All in all, it has been an absolutely glorious week. As I look back on it now, I’m excited for what this coming week will bring, knowing that my days in the city are dwindling and anticipating the arrival of a few more best friends in the next few days.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
groovin'
It has been a crazy/awesome few days since the last time I wrote. So many things have happened in such a short time! After we took the ferryboat on Friday night, we realized all of a sudden the extensiveness of our to-do list and the short amount of time we have left. The same thing happened in London last summer—all of a sudden you realize that the city still holds so many, many adventures and you want to cram as much in that short time as possible!
We dedicated Saturday to exploring different neighborhoods—shopping at eclectic markets in Greenwhich Village, Chelsea, and Williamsburg—and got tickets to see Mary Poppins that night. It wasn’t our first choice for a show that night but it turned out to be so much fun recalling the songs we listened to and loved as children. The following day was the perfect day to hit the beach, and I took full advantage of the beautiful weather. I took the train to Long Beach and joined hundreds of New Yorkers in the mass exodus from the city. A fortuitous accident landed me in between two jetties that marked the surfing section, and some kind surfer boys offered to teach me their skills! It took a couple of tries, but once I got the hang of it (no pun intended) it was such a rush! Maybe next summer I’ll wander to California and make surfing a full time occupation. Kidding, dad. Nisreen and I polished off the day with a trip to Serendipity—the hour wait was made well worth it by the Broadway Sundae—a must for anyone who visits the city.
Work wise, things couldn't be going better. I feel as if I have found my groove both in the city and in the industry. My event Monday was at the New York Times; the speaker was Soledad O’Brian, a reporter for CNN. I knew I wouldn’t regret watching all that Hurricane Katrina Coverage back in the day—I was so glad to recognize her from her work! Before the event, we bonded over our weird names (she told me of a network that only hires people with obscure names like ours), Catholic churches in the city, and a mutual affinity for New Orleans. She was one of the most positive, inspiring, genuinely funny people I have ever met and I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of her company.
For a while today, I was the only person in the office. I was definitely on a power trip as I unlocked the doors with the keys bestowed upon me last week. Maybe it was the feeling of independence that came with opening the office or maybe it was the particularly potent Starbucks from my walk over, but something had me thinking. As I settled down to get to work for the day, I began to mull over the questions that have been forming in my mind: could I possibly see myself in this city after all? Where would I even start? I have become more and more enamored of the city with each passing day, and am beginning to see my own place within.
Tonight I had the absolute best delight in the whole world—there is nothing so wonderful as reuniting with a best friend! Courtney is in the city for the week, so tonight we took the ferry to see the most spectacular view of the city. We drank in the city lights and were almost too engrossed in catching up to hear voices behind us and the words “War Eagle” and “Roll Tide.” If I wasn't feeling at home all ready, I sure was when--to our great amusement--we discovered that our companions too were from the great city of Mobile, Alabama! We exchanged New York stories and places to go and were all so excited to meet each other in the big city. Turns out the world isn’t quite as big as it seems!
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We dedicated Saturday to exploring different neighborhoods—shopping at eclectic markets in Greenwhich Village, Chelsea, and Williamsburg—and got tickets to see Mary Poppins that night. It wasn’t our first choice for a show that night but it turned out to be so much fun recalling the songs we listened to and loved as children. The following day was the perfect day to hit the beach, and I took full advantage of the beautiful weather. I took the train to Long Beach and joined hundreds of New Yorkers in the mass exodus from the city. A fortuitous accident landed me in between two jetties that marked the surfing section, and some kind surfer boys offered to teach me their skills! It took a couple of tries, but once I got the hang of it (no pun intended) it was such a rush! Maybe next summer I’ll wander to California and make surfing a full time occupation. Kidding, dad. Nisreen and I polished off the day with a trip to Serendipity—the hour wait was made well worth it by the Broadway Sundae—a must for anyone who visits the city.
Work wise, things couldn't be going better. I feel as if I have found my groove both in the city and in the industry. My event Monday was at the New York Times; the speaker was Soledad O’Brian, a reporter for CNN. I knew I wouldn’t regret watching all that Hurricane Katrina Coverage back in the day—I was so glad to recognize her from her work! Before the event, we bonded over our weird names (she told me of a network that only hires people with obscure names like ours), Catholic churches in the city, and a mutual affinity for New Orleans. She was one of the most positive, inspiring, genuinely funny people I have ever met and I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of her company.
For a while today, I was the only person in the office. I was definitely on a power trip as I unlocked the doors with the keys bestowed upon me last week. Maybe it was the feeling of independence that came with opening the office or maybe it was the particularly potent Starbucks from my walk over, but something had me thinking. As I settled down to get to work for the day, I began to mull over the questions that have been forming in my mind: could I possibly see myself in this city after all? Where would I even start? I have become more and more enamored of the city with each passing day, and am beginning to see my own place within.
Tonight I had the absolute best delight in the whole world—there is nothing so wonderful as reuniting with a best friend! Courtney is in the city for the week, so tonight we took the ferry to see the most spectacular view of the city. We drank in the city lights and were almost too engrossed in catching up to hear voices behind us and the words “War Eagle” and “Roll Tide.” If I wasn't feeling at home all ready, I sure was when--to our great amusement--we discovered that our companions too were from the great city of Mobile, Alabama! We exchanged New York stories and places to go and were all so excited to meet each other in the big city. Turns out the world isn’t quite as big as it seems!
Courtney and me with our new friends at the Staten Island station
Friday, July 8, 2011
now playing
"in this moment all i know is the skyline through the window; the moon above and the streets below" -parachute
What a beautiful New York night! You'd never know that it's raining cats and dogs, as usual when we have a significant amount of free time. Tonight we decided not to let the rain get in the way of our plans even though they involved a boat and open air. We took the subway down to the Staten Island Ferry and rode the ferry boat around the Statue of Liberty and back to Manhattan.The skyline and the statue were absolutely breathtaking--it is one thing to see them in pictures and postcards; quite another to be right underneath them.
Lessons Learned
It’s no secret that I like do to things my way or not at all. Call it spoiled; call it stubborn—it is what it is. As it turns out, New York City and I have that in common. The city often has different plans for my day than I do, and—it being the bigger beast in the equation—often prevails over my own ideas. Take last Wednesday for example. Up before the sun, I was packed and on my way to Tucson. I was waiting to board my first connecting flight to Charlotte when over the intercom came an announcement that there were hundreds of turtles blocking the runway at JFK. I was so excited for KD National Convention and Tucson with my best friends and fellow council members, but what can you do besides laugh at a flight delay because of turtles crossing the runway? Sounds like a joke, right?
I eventually made it to Tucson at about midnight Arizona time, which coincidentally was 3AM New York time. I was exhausted. The next few days all began at 8, but I was awake hours before because of the time difference. It gave me the opportunity to go run around the desert, which was absolutely gorgeous. I had no idea that I would love Arizona so much! Our resort was nestled between mountains with cacti literally every two feet or so, and wildlife like mule deer and desert rabbits ran rampant. The convention was amazing. We were treated like queens with banquets and plush resort rooms, but the best part was the sisterhood! So many KDs young and old in one place! Our chapter had the most representatives there out of any other school, and we were so happy to be reunited. KDs from other chapters kept coming up to us to ask our secrets about recruitment, socials, and different success tactics, but on awards night we began to get discouraged. We sank lower and lower into our chairs with each honorable mention, until finally the time came for the biggest award. We had to pick our jaws up off the floor when they called EPSILON!!! All of our alums surrounded us and we became the obnoxious LSU girls singing our chants.
We were devastated to part at the week’s end, but it makes the nearing approach of school and our senior year infinitely sweeter. I headed back to New York just in time for a good nap before the 4th of July festivities. We marveled at the emptiness of the city (sidenote: this is the best time to visit NYC!) and watched the Macy’s fireworks from our rooftop.
I had the morning off yesterday, and as it was my first free morning of the summer, I decided that I would go to Regis and Kelly! I’ve wanted to go all summer but haven’t yet had the chance. I read that the first 30-45 people in the standby line get seats in the studio audience, so I woke at 5 and was downtown by 6. I was fourth in line, so when some guy joined the line in front of me at 7:30, I didn’t bat an eye. At 9AM, they began to let us in. Guess what number they got to? If you guessed four, you are correct. Our consolation for waiting and not getting in was a ticket to meet Jennifer Anniston and watch her on the show the following morning—a dream come true for those that did not have to be at work by 9.
Again, I practiced my newly acquired rolling with the punches skills. I spent the morning wandering around the Met, and in the afternoon I ventured into the Upper West Side and Riverside Park. I watched a sailboat race on the river (I love sailboats) and finally made my way home. My event last night turned out to be the coolest one yet. It was at the Harvard Club and featured an author named Andrew Breitbart. For those of you who are unfamiliar with him, Andrew is a conservative activist involved in the tea party movement and instrumental in national GOP politics. I was in the company of New York’s finest (and wealthiest) young conservatives. Among the distinguished guests of honor was none other than Rudy Giuliani! I think I was more excited to meet him than I was Daniel Radcliffe. Probably one of the coolest moments of the summer was sitting next to Giuliani and Breitbart while they signed books; they would turn to me with snide comments or sarcastic espressions after listening to a particularly enthusiastic youngster/devoted fan. I kept my cool even though I was just as excited as the others about meeting these two.
On my way home late that night, I stopped at 5 Guys to pick up something to eat. To my chagrin, the guys that work there recognized me and called me Alabama. I don’t know what that says about me—that the only people in this city who remember me are the employees of a burger joint on the busiest street in America—but I do believe that’s my cue to switch to salads (yeah right).
Today’s event was about Nica Rothschild, the famous jazz baroness of the 50s and 60s. The speaker was really interesting and got me thinking about all of the music NYC has to offer. After work, I walked down Broadway and picked up student tickets for Jersey Boys. It’s a musical I’ve wanted to see for years now, and it did not disappoint. Afterward, we met the cast as well as some other people hanging around waiting to see them. We made friends! We ended up standing on a street corner in Times Square talking to our new friends until the early morning. All the while, the busiest block in the whole country buzzed and changed around us. The lights never dimmed, but eventually Python Man, comedy show promoters, and the schizophrenic Russian died down and returned to their respective caves. When we finally walked home with our signed playbills, we deemed tonight one of the best so far.
I eventually made it to Tucson at about midnight Arizona time, which coincidentally was 3AM New York time. I was exhausted. The next few days all began at 8, but I was awake hours before because of the time difference. It gave me the opportunity to go run around the desert, which was absolutely gorgeous. I had no idea that I would love Arizona so much! Our resort was nestled between mountains with cacti literally every two feet or so, and wildlife like mule deer and desert rabbits ran rampant. The convention was amazing. We were treated like queens with banquets and plush resort rooms, but the best part was the sisterhood! So many KDs young and old in one place! Our chapter had the most representatives there out of any other school, and we were so happy to be reunited. KDs from other chapters kept coming up to us to ask our secrets about recruitment, socials, and different success tactics, but on awards night we began to get discouraged. We sank lower and lower into our chairs with each honorable mention, until finally the time came for the biggest award. We had to pick our jaws up off the floor when they called EPSILON!!! All of our alums surrounded us and we became the obnoxious LSU girls singing our chants.
We were devastated to part at the week’s end, but it makes the nearing approach of school and our senior year infinitely sweeter. I headed back to New York just in time for a good nap before the 4th of July festivities. We marveled at the emptiness of the city (sidenote: this is the best time to visit NYC!) and watched the Macy’s fireworks from our rooftop.
I had the morning off yesterday, and as it was my first free morning of the summer, I decided that I would go to Regis and Kelly! I’ve wanted to go all summer but haven’t yet had the chance. I read that the first 30-45 people in the standby line get seats in the studio audience, so I woke at 5 and was downtown by 6. I was fourth in line, so when some guy joined the line in front of me at 7:30, I didn’t bat an eye. At 9AM, they began to let us in. Guess what number they got to? If you guessed four, you are correct. Our consolation for waiting and not getting in was a ticket to meet Jennifer Anniston and watch her on the show the following morning—a dream come true for those that did not have to be at work by 9.
Again, I practiced my newly acquired rolling with the punches skills. I spent the morning wandering around the Met, and in the afternoon I ventured into the Upper West Side and Riverside Park. I watched a sailboat race on the river (I love sailboats) and finally made my way home. My event last night turned out to be the coolest one yet. It was at the Harvard Club and featured an author named Andrew Breitbart. For those of you who are unfamiliar with him, Andrew is a conservative activist involved in the tea party movement and instrumental in national GOP politics. I was in the company of New York’s finest (and wealthiest) young conservatives. Among the distinguished guests of honor was none other than Rudy Giuliani! I think I was more excited to meet him than I was Daniel Radcliffe. Probably one of the coolest moments of the summer was sitting next to Giuliani and Breitbart while they signed books; they would turn to me with snide comments or sarcastic espressions after listening to a particularly enthusiastic youngster/devoted fan. I kept my cool even though I was just as excited as the others about meeting these two.
On my way home late that night, I stopped at 5 Guys to pick up something to eat. To my chagrin, the guys that work there recognized me and called me Alabama. I don’t know what that says about me—that the only people in this city who remember me are the employees of a burger joint on the busiest street in America—but I do believe that’s my cue to switch to salads (yeah right).
Today’s event was about Nica Rothschild, the famous jazz baroness of the 50s and 60s. The speaker was really interesting and got me thinking about all of the music NYC has to offer. After work, I walked down Broadway and picked up student tickets for Jersey Boys. It’s a musical I’ve wanted to see for years now, and it did not disappoint. Afterward, we met the cast as well as some other people hanging around waiting to see them. We made friends! We ended up standing on a street corner in Times Square talking to our new friends until the early morning. All the while, the busiest block in the whole country buzzed and changed around us. The lights never dimmed, but eventually Python Man, comedy show promoters, and the schizophrenic Russian died down and returned to their respective caves. When we finally walked home with our signed playbills, we deemed tonight one of the best so far.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Full Circle
Today I find myself in the Charlotte airport, in the very spot that I began writing this blog exactly 366 days ago as I awaited my flight to London. There is a palpable difference between the atmosphere here and the city that I have left for the next few days. For the first few minutes in Charlotte, I was confused as to why people were making eye contact—even smiling. Even though it has only been one month, I have grown completely accustomed to the coldness of New York and the universally accepted irrelevancy of each face in the hordes of tourists and workers hurrying toward the next best thing.
I am so happy to be here—more specifically on my way to KD convention in Tucson—that I don’t even mind the six hour layover. It will allow me to recount my last few days, as I have been much too busy keeping up with the pace of NYC to write. These past few days and the preceding weekends have been the best by far. My weekend visitors have played a major role in making my time in NYC a fabulously unforgettable adventure.
When Boley arrived last Friday, my NYC friends came with me to pick her up and we checked off many of the touristy things from our lists. We had some of the best pizza I’ve ever had at a shack in Hell’s Kitchen, wandered through Times Square, walked the Highline, and went to Legends. We got up early to see SOHO, which proved to be one of my favorite areas. It is much more artsy low-key than the rest of the city, and because we were there early there were far fewer tourists than usual. Afterward, we walked in Central Park before getting ready for the main event…GLEE!!!
We met for dinner at Artisanal, an esteemed cheese restaurant. We found it highly overrated—the “3 cheese plate” we thought we’d share came out an hour later with literally 3 slices of cheese on it and set us back $20! After we had paid, the waiter had the audacity to tell us that gratuity was expected and wasn’t included in the bill. We took some of it back just for spite. That event--though comical--set the tone for the first half of the evening. We were supposed to meet for Glee at Grand Central Station and though we were excited to see the iconic establishment, we were a bit flustered when we discovered that it was not in fact where we needed to be. We found ourselves running the streets of Manhattan in an attempt to get to Penn Station to catch the train bound for Long Island. Once there, we were told that we could get to the next train station by 8:30 and take a cab from there to the coliseum. The show started at 8. Panic ensued. With a little help from some kind New Yorkers, we found our way to the right train and hopped on just in time, but not without a few meltdowns.
At last we were on our way, and everything worked out in the end. There had been two opening acts so we got there in plenty of time for the show. It was probably one of the best concerts I have ever seen, and when they sang “Empire State of Mind” the crowd went absolutely crazy. Every time one of the cast said “Thank you, New York” (or something to that effect) the enormity of living in this crazy, enchanting place struck me—made me realize how much I have grown to love it and consider myself a member of the massive cosmopolite.
The next day, we watched the sunrise over the Brooklyn Bridge and said our goodbyes. The work week began again, this time with fewer remarkable events—a couple at the TriBeCa Club, one at the Century Club— and they came with a normality for which I was acutely grateful. After work , my friends and I continue our missions to become NYC’s cupcake connoisseurs. Cupcake couture is a huge current trend in the city, and we have decided to try as many different places as we can (our rewards for making it through the work day). Strange as that may be, we have actually discovered some pretty cool neighborhoods, nooks and random areas of town to which we might have not otherwise ventured. So far, our favorites come from a truck that moves around town—you have to follow them on Twitter to know where they will be each day! That sounds sketchier in writing…
Michael (the kid I babysit) and the Hayes’ (his grandparents and the owner of Lance Hayes Flowers where I work in Baton Rouge) visited this past weekend, and I had a great time showing them the city. Michael and I went to the Harry Potter exhibit at the Discovery Museum on Saturday—an absolute must see for HP nerds. Even though it was all movie stuff (as opposed to the books) it was fascinating, and we spent the greater part of our day inside. That Sunday was Gay Pride day in the city. I have mentioned my frustration about different types of parades getting in the way of going to Mass on Sunday, so I decided that in order to get to church on time and shield Michael from the inevitable vulgarity, we should go to a different church. What I didn’t anticipate was that “Gay Street” was located a mere block away from our chosen location. I will not even put into writing the things that we saw that day—use your imagination. Or don’t.
The last couple of days have been insanely busy at work. Since I am missing the rest of the week, the company tried to squeeze my week’s hours into Monday and Tuesday. Monday night I was in charge of publicity for a biography of Bob Dylan that took place at the NYC Public Library. The people that attended this event were the weirdest group of people I have seen yet—including the atheist convention. Dominated by 60+ year-old hippies, these folks had no doubt consumed far too many illegal substances in their heydays. The event lasted hours longer than was intended because everyone had unrelated questions or experiences to share with the authors and the rest of the crowd. At one point the author spoke approximately one line of a Dylan song, and the audience began an impromptu sing-a-long, completing an insultingly out of tune rendition of Blowing in the Wind nearly five minutes later.
Last night I was in charge of publicity for an event at the Park Avenue Synagogue, a beautiful old venue on the Upper East Side. This was enjoyable to me because I genuinely appreciate Judaism and the Jewish culture. I live by a popular synagogue on the West Side and have made some pretty cool friends because of the proximity. Earlier that day, I went to a store called H&B across the street from my building in search of a new iPhone screen cover with one such friend. I was previously unaware of the fact that H&B is basically Santa’s workshop but instead of elves, all the workers are members of the synagogue. Every worker wore a yarmulke and was happy as a clam to be of assistance. H&B was the largest electronics store I’ve ever been in, with things whirring overhead on assembly lines and transportation rails. There are different stations for buying, paying, and picking up your items. I was already laughing to myself as I pictured the store as Santa’s workshop, and when the last clerk whipped out his candy stash to offer us a piece, I almost lost it. It was probably one of the funniest 10 minutes of my life, and I wish someone funnier than I had been witness and able to better articulate the hilarity of the situation.
I think that’s all for now—hopefully I will come back with some good stories from Kappa Delta Convention! I will try to be better about posting regularly so y’all don’t have to read a novel when I finally sit down and write it all :)
I am so happy to be here—more specifically on my way to KD convention in Tucson—that I don’t even mind the six hour layover. It will allow me to recount my last few days, as I have been much too busy keeping up with the pace of NYC to write. These past few days and the preceding weekends have been the best by far. My weekend visitors have played a major role in making my time in NYC a fabulously unforgettable adventure.
When Boley arrived last Friday, my NYC friends came with me to pick her up and we checked off many of the touristy things from our lists. We had some of the best pizza I’ve ever had at a shack in Hell’s Kitchen, wandered through Times Square, walked the Highline, and went to Legends. We got up early to see SOHO, which proved to be one of my favorite areas. It is much more artsy low-key than the rest of the city, and because we were there early there were far fewer tourists than usual. Afterward, we walked in Central Park before getting ready for the main event…GLEE!!!
We met for dinner at Artisanal, an esteemed cheese restaurant. We found it highly overrated—the “3 cheese plate” we thought we’d share came out an hour later with literally 3 slices of cheese on it and set us back $20! After we had paid, the waiter had the audacity to tell us that gratuity was expected and wasn’t included in the bill. We took some of it back just for spite. That event--though comical--set the tone for the first half of the evening. We were supposed to meet for Glee at Grand Central Station and though we were excited to see the iconic establishment, we were a bit flustered when we discovered that it was not in fact where we needed to be. We found ourselves running the streets of Manhattan in an attempt to get to Penn Station to catch the train bound for Long Island. Once there, we were told that we could get to the next train station by 8:30 and take a cab from there to the coliseum. The show started at 8. Panic ensued. With a little help from some kind New Yorkers, we found our way to the right train and hopped on just in time, but not without a few meltdowns.
At last we were on our way, and everything worked out in the end. There had been two opening acts so we got there in plenty of time for the show. It was probably one of the best concerts I have ever seen, and when they sang “Empire State of Mind” the crowd went absolutely crazy. Every time one of the cast said “Thank you, New York” (or something to that effect) the enormity of living in this crazy, enchanting place struck me—made me realize how much I have grown to love it and consider myself a member of the massive cosmopolite.
The next day, we watched the sunrise over the Brooklyn Bridge and said our goodbyes. The work week began again, this time with fewer remarkable events—a couple at the TriBeCa Club, one at the Century Club— and they came with a normality for which I was acutely grateful. After work , my friends and I continue our missions to become NYC’s cupcake connoisseurs. Cupcake couture is a huge current trend in the city, and we have decided to try as many different places as we can (our rewards for making it through the work day). Strange as that may be, we have actually discovered some pretty cool neighborhoods, nooks and random areas of town to which we might have not otherwise ventured. So far, our favorites come from a truck that moves around town—you have to follow them on Twitter to know where they will be each day! That sounds sketchier in writing…
Michael (the kid I babysit) and the Hayes’ (his grandparents and the owner of Lance Hayes Flowers where I work in Baton Rouge) visited this past weekend, and I had a great time showing them the city. Michael and I went to the Harry Potter exhibit at the Discovery Museum on Saturday—an absolute must see for HP nerds. Even though it was all movie stuff (as opposed to the books) it was fascinating, and we spent the greater part of our day inside. That Sunday was Gay Pride day in the city. I have mentioned my frustration about different types of parades getting in the way of going to Mass on Sunday, so I decided that in order to get to church on time and shield Michael from the inevitable vulgarity, we should go to a different church. What I didn’t anticipate was that “Gay Street” was located a mere block away from our chosen location. I will not even put into writing the things that we saw that day—use your imagination. Or don’t.
The last couple of days have been insanely busy at work. Since I am missing the rest of the week, the company tried to squeeze my week’s hours into Monday and Tuesday. Monday night I was in charge of publicity for a biography of Bob Dylan that took place at the NYC Public Library. The people that attended this event were the weirdest group of people I have seen yet—including the atheist convention. Dominated by 60+ year-old hippies, these folks had no doubt consumed far too many illegal substances in their heydays. The event lasted hours longer than was intended because everyone had unrelated questions or experiences to share with the authors and the rest of the crowd. At one point the author spoke approximately one line of a Dylan song, and the audience began an impromptu sing-a-long, completing an insultingly out of tune rendition of Blowing in the Wind nearly five minutes later.
Last night I was in charge of publicity for an event at the Park Avenue Synagogue, a beautiful old venue on the Upper East Side. This was enjoyable to me because I genuinely appreciate Judaism and the Jewish culture. I live by a popular synagogue on the West Side and have made some pretty cool friends because of the proximity. Earlier that day, I went to a store called H&B across the street from my building in search of a new iPhone screen cover with one such friend. I was previously unaware of the fact that H&B is basically Santa’s workshop but instead of elves, all the workers are members of the synagogue. Every worker wore a yarmulke and was happy as a clam to be of assistance. H&B was the largest electronics store I’ve ever been in, with things whirring overhead on assembly lines and transportation rails. There are different stations for buying, paying, and picking up your items. I was already laughing to myself as I pictured the store as Santa’s workshop, and when the last clerk whipped out his candy stash to offer us a piece, I almost lost it. It was probably one of the funniest 10 minutes of my life, and I wish someone funnier than I had been witness and able to better articulate the hilarity of the situation.
I think that’s all for now—hopefully I will come back with some good stories from Kappa Delta Convention! I will try to be better about posting regularly so y’all don’t have to read a novel when I finally sit down and write it all :)
Friday, June 17, 2011
introducing the players
What really characterizes New York for me is the people. I suppose you could say the same about any city, but there is a certain je ne sais quoi here that makes it more noticeable than, say, London, Paris, or Rome (or Mobile). Each of the latter—yes, even Mobile—has such deep history and resplendent beauty that can be focused on instead of the masses of mere mortals that roam the streets. The people that make up New York, however, simply cannot be ignored. In my short two weeks here, I have seen and met so many, many crazy people that I am astounded and even suspicious when I meet a normal one. What are they hiding? These are the characters I have read about or seen in movies but never actually believed existed. From the man I pass every day on the way home from work on the street corner in front of Madison Square Garden demanding “A penny? A penny? A PENNY!” to the monomaniacs in the crosswalks, these people are crazy…plain and simple. I have begun to realize that I am in the small minority of people whose mamas taught them to stay to the right side of the sidewalk, that it is rude to holler at people as they walk by, and that Affliction t-shirts do not qualify as business casual (Jersey intern). I have seen knock-down-drag-out-fights and intense make-ups, hair and clothes that would make Gaga cringe, and enough tangible lunacy to sink a ship.
I have encountered many of these nuts at my author events. The first of this week’s events was a huge ordeal. It was for the release of a new cult self-help book/DVD/CD called The Gift. There were over 700 people who came to be photographed on the red carpet and hear the authors speak. The Gift is basically a charismatic movement lead by a guy who “wandered around and partied” for 23 years “searching” for his true self, his Gift. (after a certain point it’s not a spiritual thing—it’s freaking lazy. Get a job.) Early in the book, the author says that he does not endorse a higher being, but that instead the Gift is what we long to find within ourselves. For the rest of the presentation/book/DVD, he talks about the “Gift” in the same way that most of us think or talk about God, all the while denying his existence. The disillusionment present in not only the speaker but also the audience who devoured his words and immediately ran outside to purchase his rhinestone encrusted paintings and self-help books was truly disturbing to me. I didn’t get back to the office until after midnight, and as I walked home on the quiet streets I thought about how very, very thankful I am for my family and friends and to know that as long as I have y’all, I will never be as lost as many of the people I met that night.
After such a long, emotionally draining night, I was thrilled to find that my next event was at an old Episcopal church on Wall Street. It was exactly what I needed. The event was with a children’s author, and I finally met some people with whom I was more connected (so what if they were 4 years old). The Trinity community center was a bright, open space where anyone can drop in and hang out. You know how in commercials and advertisements they gather a wide spectrum of races and ethnicities? Well as it turns out, that is an accurate depiction of life in the city. I had more children from different backgrounds sitting on my knees, reading me stories, and telling me secrets that day than I could possibly keep track of, but it was definitely my best day of work yet.
Today my event was at the Society of Mechanical Engineers. The book was really interesting—it was about the first steamboat built in America. I loved that the author was truly passionate about the subject. He had studied and researched the steamboat and its captain for years. The joy that emanated from him as he talked about his book was contagious! This made me realize even more how phony The Gift and its author are. Talking to him, it was easy to tell that his primary concern was the profit garnered by book and merchandise sales. The author of Steamboat Coffin had no need for breathing rituals (to get rid of evil spirits) or cheesy sob sessions punctuating his speech. His simple passion for the subject was sufficiently engaging. The attendees of the Mechanical Engineering Society were similarly enjoyable company; all the old men wanted to discuss their steamboat experiences with me and said that if they were my age they would like to take me dancing in the city. They were so precious!
After work, Emily and I went to a place called High Line Park. We got ice cream and walked on a boardwalk that is suspended about three stories high and runs next to an old railroad line parallel to the river. It afforded us the most beautiful view of the city lights, and is definitely my favorite place here by far. I am going to wake up early to see my boy Kenny Chesney in a few hours, so I will catch up with y’all later!
P.S. The ultimate “Gift” is love. Spoiler alert.
I have encountered many of these nuts at my author events. The first of this week’s events was a huge ordeal. It was for the release of a new cult self-help book/DVD/CD called The Gift. There were over 700 people who came to be photographed on the red carpet and hear the authors speak. The Gift is basically a charismatic movement lead by a guy who “wandered around and partied” for 23 years “searching” for his true self, his Gift. (after a certain point it’s not a spiritual thing—it’s freaking lazy. Get a job.) Early in the book, the author says that he does not endorse a higher being, but that instead the Gift is what we long to find within ourselves. For the rest of the presentation/book/DVD, he talks about the “Gift” in the same way that most of us think or talk about God, all the while denying his existence. The disillusionment present in not only the speaker but also the audience who devoured his words and immediately ran outside to purchase his rhinestone encrusted paintings and self-help books was truly disturbing to me. I didn’t get back to the office until after midnight, and as I walked home on the quiet streets I thought about how very, very thankful I am for my family and friends and to know that as long as I have y’all, I will never be as lost as many of the people I met that night.
After such a long, emotionally draining night, I was thrilled to find that my next event was at an old Episcopal church on Wall Street. It was exactly what I needed. The event was with a children’s author, and I finally met some people with whom I was more connected (so what if they were 4 years old). The Trinity community center was a bright, open space where anyone can drop in and hang out. You know how in commercials and advertisements they gather a wide spectrum of races and ethnicities? Well as it turns out, that is an accurate depiction of life in the city. I had more children from different backgrounds sitting on my knees, reading me stories, and telling me secrets that day than I could possibly keep track of, but it was definitely my best day of work yet.
Today my event was at the Society of Mechanical Engineers. The book was really interesting—it was about the first steamboat built in America. I loved that the author was truly passionate about the subject. He had studied and researched the steamboat and its captain for years. The joy that emanated from him as he talked about his book was contagious! This made me realize even more how phony The Gift and its author are. Talking to him, it was easy to tell that his primary concern was the profit garnered by book and merchandise sales. The author of Steamboat Coffin had no need for breathing rituals (to get rid of evil spirits) or cheesy sob sessions punctuating his speech. His simple passion for the subject was sufficiently engaging. The attendees of the Mechanical Engineering Society were similarly enjoyable company; all the old men wanted to discuss their steamboat experiences with me and said that if they were my age they would like to take me dancing in the city. They were so precious!
After work, Emily and I went to a place called High Line Park. We got ice cream and walked on a boardwalk that is suspended about three stories high and runs next to an old railroad line parallel to the river. It afforded us the most beautiful view of the city lights, and is definitely my favorite place here by far. I am going to wake up early to see my boy Kenny Chesney in a few hours, so I will catch up with y’all later!
P.S. The ultimate “Gift” is love. Spoiler alert.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Dead Ends and Deathly Hallows
The past few days have for me been characterized more by things that didn’t happen than those that did. We got up early and went to the Today show, but realized too late that we were on the wrong street. We were sitting behind the stage and equipment, so we missed the band and the show entirely. I set out to run along the river, but there is construction for 3 miles both ways. I attempted to go to mass at St. Patrick’s yesterday, but got caught up in the Puerto Rican day parade instead (that is one experience I do not care to relive).
From each of these seemingly failed endeavors, however, I made new discoveries and adventures. At the Today Show, I learned about Matt Lauer’s favorite local bar…I will definitely be hitting that up! Instead of running by the river, I went to Central Park instead, and last night I discovered a beautiful church on the Upper East Side—St. Ignatius of course!!! I felt right at home, and not just because it was St. Ignatius. The congregation was friendly and the priest talked about his recent visit to—you’ll never guess—Alabama!!!
I have done lots of traditional New York things—went to an underground comedy club, ate cheesecake on the steps of the beautiful old post office building across from Madison Square Garden, looked down from the top of the Empire State Building—but at the end of the day, nothing that would be interesting enough to subject ya’ll to on this thing. Today when I got up and made my list of things to do, I thought to myself, “I’m going to make this day worth writing about.”
Mission accomplished. I had a pretty nice day at work, just running errands about town. On my way home, I passed the Manhattan Center a block away from my dorm. They were rolling out the red carpet with advertisements for the Webbys, an awards show for YouTube and online phenomena. I looked it up online to see who would be making an appearance and was surprised to note some significant actors and actresses. I didn’t think too much about it, and I took my computer to the Starbucks across the street to work on some standards E-mails. When the barista called my name indicating that my drink was ready, the guy next to me said with a British accent “sometimes I make up weird names at Starbucks too” I turned around with my usual answer (haha, it’s a family name…) but stuttered when I realized it was DANIEL RADCLIFFE!!!! Somehow I got the words out and we chatted for a few seconds but I honestly don’t remember a single word because all I could think about was that I was talking to HARRY POTTER!!!!
Still giddy, I ran home to eat dinner with two of my friends from the apartment. We decided we better go check out this Webby thing to see who else we could see. As it turned out, the security people wouldn’t allow us to get very close—one of them told Nisreen that “this is very much NOT a public event” even though the red carpet and the photo op was on 34th Street—one of the main drags in the city. We lingered about the edges and were able to see Brooke Shields, Adrian Grenier and my personal favorite: Antoine Dodson (hide yo kids, hide yo wife) and his sister!!! They even sang the song. After all the stars had gone inside, the security guards teased us and told us they would let us inside even though they had no intention of doing so. Instead we walked around Hell’s Kitchen, which is the eclectic area near our building on the West Side. There are millions of different cuisines and bars, including Ethiopian, which I thought was…interesting. (What kind of food do they actually have in Ethiopia?)
Walking back, we rehashed the day’s events and agreed that the best part was that we had met each other and had someone to share these things with. Even a city with 3 million people can seem empty if you don’t have people with whom you can share your experiences, including the the dead ends. Today has definitely been the best day yet, and I am looking forward to many like it in the future…I think from now on I’ll live each day with the intentions of doing something worth writing about!
From each of these seemingly failed endeavors, however, I made new discoveries and adventures. At the Today Show, I learned about Matt Lauer’s favorite local bar…I will definitely be hitting that up! Instead of running by the river, I went to Central Park instead, and last night I discovered a beautiful church on the Upper East Side—St. Ignatius of course!!! I felt right at home, and not just because it was St. Ignatius. The congregation was friendly and the priest talked about his recent visit to—you’ll never guess—Alabama!!!
I have done lots of traditional New York things—went to an underground comedy club, ate cheesecake on the steps of the beautiful old post office building across from Madison Square Garden, looked down from the top of the Empire State Building—but at the end of the day, nothing that would be interesting enough to subject ya’ll to on this thing. Today when I got up and made my list of things to do, I thought to myself, “I’m going to make this day worth writing about.”
Mission accomplished. I had a pretty nice day at work, just running errands about town. On my way home, I passed the Manhattan Center a block away from my dorm. They were rolling out the red carpet with advertisements for the Webbys, an awards show for YouTube and online phenomena. I looked it up online to see who would be making an appearance and was surprised to note some significant actors and actresses. I didn’t think too much about it, and I took my computer to the Starbucks across the street to work on some standards E-mails. When the barista called my name indicating that my drink was ready, the guy next to me said with a British accent “sometimes I make up weird names at Starbucks too” I turned around with my usual answer (haha, it’s a family name…) but stuttered when I realized it was DANIEL RADCLIFFE!!!! Somehow I got the words out and we chatted for a few seconds but I honestly don’t remember a single word because all I could think about was that I was talking to HARRY POTTER!!!!
Still giddy, I ran home to eat dinner with two of my friends from the apartment. We decided we better go check out this Webby thing to see who else we could see. As it turned out, the security people wouldn’t allow us to get very close—one of them told Nisreen that “this is very much NOT a public event” even though the red carpet and the photo op was on 34th Street—one of the main drags in the city. We lingered about the edges and were able to see Brooke Shields, Adrian Grenier and my personal favorite: Antoine Dodson (hide yo kids, hide yo wife) and his sister!!! They even sang the song. After all the stars had gone inside, the security guards teased us and told us they would let us inside even though they had no intention of doing so. Instead we walked around Hell’s Kitchen, which is the eclectic area near our building on the West Side. There are millions of different cuisines and bars, including Ethiopian, which I thought was…interesting. (What kind of food do they actually have in Ethiopia?)
Walking back, we rehashed the day’s events and agreed that the best part was that we had met each other and had someone to share these things with. Even a city with 3 million people can seem empty if you don’t have people with whom you can share your experiences, including the the dead ends. Today has definitely been the best day yet, and I am looking forward to many like it in the future…I think from now on I’ll live each day with the intentions of doing something worth writing about!
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Curveballs
I can’t even get over this day and this city. I guess the beginning is the best place to start! First of all, the city is uncommonly hot right now, made even more miserable by the lack of AC in most buildings including my apartment. I’m a beach kid and the heat doesn’t usually bother me, but my Burt’s Bees melted inside my room. Just sayin. Ok, so I did some office stuff at work and then headed off to the University Club. It was gorgeous, old and obviously the watering hole for only New York’s most affluent members of society. The author was speaking about her book called “The Lost Boy,” a biography of Mickey Mantle. I was mesmerized by her adoration of the Yankees icon as well as the real passion that all of these old billionaires have for him. They all wanted to tell me stories about how he was their childhood idol and where and when they first saw him swing that bat. I know I promised not to become a Yankee fan but I have definitely added a game to my “to do” list. One won’t hurt, right?
My second author appearance was an entirely different experience all together; one I was wholly unprepared for. It was put on by the Center For Inquiry at the New York Institute of Technology. The book was called “The Believing Brain” (or something to that effect) and I’ve always been interested in the mechanics of brain function, so I anticipated a pretty interesting talk. It took me a good half-hour to realize that this was in fact a convergence of atheists (or skeptics as they refer to themselves). The talk was all about how the brain has been tricked into believing that there is a God. I would have been fine to just chill by this psycho author while he did his thing, but apparently I had an invitation for the crazies written on my forehead that I was heretofore unaware of. These people—seriously, movie characters… I never thought people like this existed—came up to me with Einstein hair, glasses and quotes muttering psycho babble about the books that they are writing about skepticism and the brain. By the way, ya’ll—were you aware that the brain is like one of those party favors that you blow and it puffs out and makes a sound? Learned that tonight.
And when they discovered the cross around my neck and that I am Catholic—you can’t imagine the field day they had with that. I wasn’t going to argue with them at this event but I was seriously disturbed with the images people have about even Christianity in general. They were shocked that I believe in the existence of Heaven and Hell and found the concept entirely unfathomable. I explained my beliefs when asked but it may have been one of the most uncomfortable situations of my life. Afterward, two of the guys asked for my number so we could discuss this in depth over coffee (why of course, atheism is definitely at the top of my checklist). Riding the subway home and even now as I sit on the rooftop looking at the Empire State Building (it’s green tonight!) I can’t help but wonder is this for real?!
My second author appearance was an entirely different experience all together; one I was wholly unprepared for. It was put on by the Center For Inquiry at the New York Institute of Technology. The book was called “The Believing Brain” (or something to that effect) and I’ve always been interested in the mechanics of brain function, so I anticipated a pretty interesting talk. It took me a good half-hour to realize that this was in fact a convergence of atheists (or skeptics as they refer to themselves). The talk was all about how the brain has been tricked into believing that there is a God. I would have been fine to just chill by this psycho author while he did his thing, but apparently I had an invitation for the crazies written on my forehead that I was heretofore unaware of. These people—seriously, movie characters… I never thought people like this existed—came up to me with Einstein hair, glasses and quotes muttering psycho babble about the books that they are writing about skepticism and the brain. By the way, ya’ll—were you aware that the brain is like one of those party favors that you blow and it puffs out and makes a sound? Learned that tonight.
And when they discovered the cross around my neck and that I am Catholic—you can’t imagine the field day they had with that. I wasn’t going to argue with them at this event but I was seriously disturbed with the images people have about even Christianity in general. They were shocked that I believe in the existence of Heaven and Hell and found the concept entirely unfathomable. I explained my beliefs when asked but it may have been one of the most uncomfortable situations of my life. Afterward, two of the guys asked for my number so we could discuss this in depth over coffee (why of course, atheism is definitely at the top of my checklist). Riding the subway home and even now as I sit on the rooftop looking at the Empire State Building (it’s green tonight!) I can’t help but wonder is this for real?!
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Clichés
You know what they say about clichés: they all come from some thread of truth. So far, I have discovered no exception in NYC. It is the city that never sleeps, the concrete jungle, and the worst sin one can commit is taking up more space (anywhere) than you absolutely require. I haven’t held up on my promise to update consistently because I like to write only when I have the most positive things to say; and for the first couple of days, that was hard to do. NYC is a huge adjustment and this blog title ended up being more appropriate than is absolutely necessary (or safe). It is very well known that I am the most directionally challenged human being possibly on the planet (one night as the DD I ended up with our car full of 12 girls on the other side of the Mississippi river from Baton Rouge…) and the subway system did absolutely nothing to ameliorate this problem in NYC. I kept getting hopelessly lost, past the point of the “haha, I’m wandering around in the big city” phase. I’m talking hours. And not in daylight (sorry mom).
I moved into my 6x6 “apartment” (ha, dorm) on Saturday. It is small but quite cozy and with a brilliant view of the city. Right now I have the window up listening to the incessant hum 12 stories down. The next day Alex and I explored the city—we went to St. Patrick’s for mass, Saks, the New York Palace, and China town. It happened to be Israel day (another cliché: “everyone in NYC is Jewish, even if you’re Catholic”) so there were literally thousands of Jewish people in the streets and the Star of David was prominent on every establishment, including hotdog stands. Irony?
I started work the next day. I knew going in that interning means starting at the bottom of the feeding chain. I did not, however, expect to be sent out into the city equipped with a metro card, seven addresses, and an empty rolling suitcase. All day long, I performed menial tasks like filing, organizing, etc. In the late afternoon, however, they decided to send me out on the day’s book garnering. I got lost, had a few minor meltdowns, walked about 7 miles (in heels) and dragged that dang suitcase (increasingly filled with books) up and down subway staircases. I was that girl. By the end of the night, I was ready to peace out and head back to ol’ Mob.
Not to worry though! I had the morning off of work today, and things have begun to turn around. I was able to sleep in a little and explore the city. I finally rode the subway without getting off at the wrong stop and didn’t use the compass on my iPhone one time (and you thought no one used the compass…). At one point, I looked up and saw a huge void in the skyline. I automatically knew that the WTC had once stood in that spot. It was a really strange, almost spiritual moment for me as l looked through the scaffolding at where the buildings had once stood. There were flags and memoirs of Sept. 11th all around as if it was a sort of sacred ground. I definitely had chills as I wandered around through St. Peter’s church across the street.
I picked up some pretty pink peonies to brighten the room and came back in time to get ready for work, anticipating a different kind of day. I knew that I would have my first author appearance tonight. It turned out to be wayyy cooler than I expected. Let me first explain the function of my company: Publishers are not allowed to conduct events publicizing their books/authors. They come to us to plan book signings and author events. I have already worked with major publishing houses (HarperCollins, Random House, Penguin…) and am pumped about making those connections. The event that I had tonight was with a couple who wrote a cookbook and actually cooked on Good Morning America this morning! They hosted a cooking show tonight in which they promoted their vegan cookbook and extremely popular NYC vegan restaurants. They let us try everything they cooked, including tomato gazpacho and chocolate mousse pie. It was FABULOUS. Seriously, if I didn’t love meat and dairy so much, I would consider trying veganism. I got to talk to the authors/chefs and got to know them really well. They even taught me some tricks of their culinary trade! I definitely want to hit up one of their restaurants now to see what all the buzz is about. I didn’t get finished tonight until after 10PM, but it was well worth it. I liked walking home on the quiet(er) streets. The pace was slower and the tourists few. I am about to hit the hay because I have to be up bright and early for an author appearance at the University Club—an exclusive gathering of Manhattan’s elite. I have yet to see anyone famous but maybe tomorrow will be the day!
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Here We Go Again!
New summer, new adventure! Where to start? I am currently taking a brief hiatus from packing three cities and two months into one suitcase and I decided to update the ol’ blog. I had to change the name this summer, as “Au Revoir, America” is no longer applicable. After Libby’s wedding on Friday, I am heading to New Orleans and shipping out for New York City where I have a publishing internship for the summer. “The Wandering Kind” seems to me the perfect title for a chronicle of my escapades in NYC and beyond, especially because it is the name of the prelude to one of my favorite albums. It signifies hopeful beginnings; new trials and pursuits. I am going to make a conscientious effort to keep this thing up to date (we’ll see about that) primarily for my own journaling purposes and because I fully intend on filling every day with new adventures.
At this moment, I cannot imagine how different things will be in just a matter of hours. Walking outside now, I step under the canopy of oak trees that lines my street. The bay breeze blows heavy with the scent of magnolia, and the sky is a rosy saffron color as twilight settles on our sweet southern town. All is quiet except for dogs and children playing in the street. After tomorrow, I am fairly certain that this picture will be replaced by a very different one and I can’t wait to experience it!
Sidenote: In a fit of nostalgia a few days ago, I went through my pictures and entries from London last summer. I remembered this correspondence gem and thought I would post it just for old time’s sake. (Background: after London, the group split up to visit different places in Europe. Paul would come to Rome a few days after Emily and I left. People that have been/are going to Rome will probably appreciate this more than others J)
Paul
Hey guys hope yall are having a blast in Rome. Just got a few questions:
1. Where did yall stay?
2. Whats the weather like?
3. How friendly are the people there?
4. Did you make any new friends?
5. What did you do while you were there?
6. Is the coliseum worth seeing?
7. Do they have a tube?
8. If so, Is it anywhere near cockfosters?
9. Did you happen to see the queen there?
10. What was the weather like again?
11. Are all their signs in English?
12. Is it anything like little Italy?
13. How was the food?
14. How was the night life?
15. Is there a Zoo Bar there?
16. What about Pubs?
17. Did you join the mafia while you were there?
18. If so, can you get me in?
19. Were there any instances of gender politics?
20. How was Rome?
Sorry thats all I could come up with off the top of my head. If I remember any more questions I'll be sure to send yall another message.
1. Where did yall stay?
2. Whats the weather like?
3. How friendly are the people there?
4. Did you make any new friends?
5. What did you do while you were there?
6. Is the coliseum worth seeing?
7. Do they have a tube?
8. If so, Is it anywhere near cockfosters?
9. Did you happen to see the queen there?
10. What was the weather like again?
11. Are all their signs in English?
12. Is it anything like little Italy?
13. How was the food?
14. How was the night life?
15. Is there a Zoo Bar there?
16. What about Pubs?
17. Did you join the mafia while you were there?
18. If so, can you get me in?
19. Were there any instances of gender politics?
20. How was Rome?
Sorry thats all I could come up with off the top of my head. If I remember any more questions I'll be sure to send yall another message.
Hallet and Emily
Dear Paul (Paolo),
These are the things that you should know before you head to Roma.
Anticipate a slower pace. Italians do not hurry.
Basilicas: My favorite part of Rome. They are everywhere, and they’re gorgeous! St. Peters was my favorite. We celebrated Mass on the front row with a Cardinal. Soooo cool. Also St. Ignatius—What. A. Baller.
Cookies: The best gelati flavor ever.
Don’t think that a Vatican tour is a good idea. It’s not. They will dupe you and escape with your money.
Exploring: many of our favorite finds were places we discovered when we were just wandering around. Go in random buildings and take a look around.
Fontana d’Amore: Doesn’t exist. Don’t make a fool of yourself by asking where it is.
Gelati: God’s gift to mankind. Eat lots of it while you’re here. Also Gypsies: NOT God’s gift to mankind. They will scam you in front of the Vatican. NOT COOL.
Have lots of pizza and pasta. As if you had another choice.
If you don’t want to see the Coliseum, too bad. It’s pretty much everywhere. But it’s really cool, so that shouldn’t be a problem.
Jersey Boys: The best theatrical production of all time—OH WAIT, THAT’S IN LONDON.
Know the difference between fresh and frozen foods. Call us American, but all four of us preferred the frozen.
Like usual, the nicest and coolest people we met were from the great city of Mobile, Alabama. We explored the Vatican and went to lunch with them.
Make a night trip to the Fontana di Trevi and Piazza Navona—they are both beautiful when they are illuminated after dark! As for the Mafia—if we told you, we’d have to kill you.
Naples: May we suggest Florence instead?
On Sunday at noon, the Pope should make an appearance from his apartment window. If he’s not in his summer home, that would be a really cool sight to see! If you go, take pictures for me!
Piazza de Popola: a place we found when we were wandering around one day. It’s a lovely park to walk through. As for pubs, not so much. Pretty sure they’re unique to Britannia.
Quintessentially, Italians do not like to speak English even though they are perfectly capable. Just prepare to speak slowly or in poor Italian. As for the Queen—someone today found out that we we spoke English and his automatic response was “Queen Elizabeth II???” But no, we have not met her. We’re in Rome…
Roma pass: get it at the metro station by the Coliseum. It will get you 3 days on the metro plus entrance into two exhibits for free.
Spanish Steps: worth the hike. A trip to the top gives you a great view of the city.
Tiramisu: Always a good choice.
Underground: Pretty good, actually. It’s no Piccadilly line terminating at Cockfosters (mind the gap) but there are two lines that get you where you need to be. Mostly.
Very. Very. Very. Rude. The people at our Best Western were sooo mean!
Weather: Sunny and hot. PERFECT.
X. This isn’t an x but croissants are really overcooked here. We miss sainsburyyyys.
You should never, under any circumstances, accept a Vatican tour. Even if a sweet North Carolina girl says it’s a good idea, DON’T DO IT. Did we mention that already?
Zebra crossings (aka crosswalks) are really scary. Just close your
eyes and make a run for it. On second thought…maybe just make a run for it.
pace, amore and tiramisu,
hallet and emily
These are the things that you should know before you head to Roma.
Anticipate a slower pace. Italians do not hurry.
Basilicas: My favorite part of Rome. They are everywhere, and they’re gorgeous! St. Peters was my favorite. We celebrated Mass on the front row with a Cardinal. Soooo cool. Also St. Ignatius—What. A. Baller.
Cookies: The best gelati flavor ever.
Don’t think that a Vatican tour is a good idea. It’s not. They will dupe you and escape with your money.
Exploring: many of our favorite finds were places we discovered when we were just wandering around. Go in random buildings and take a look around.
Fontana d’Amore: Doesn’t exist. Don’t make a fool of yourself by asking where it is.
Gelati: God’s gift to mankind. Eat lots of it while you’re here. Also Gypsies: NOT God’s gift to mankind. They will scam you in front of the Vatican. NOT COOL.
Have lots of pizza and pasta. As if you had another choice.
If you don’t want to see the Coliseum, too bad. It’s pretty much everywhere. But it’s really cool, so that shouldn’t be a problem.
Jersey Boys: The best theatrical production of all time—OH WAIT, THAT’S IN LONDON.
Know the difference between fresh and frozen foods. Call us American, but all four of us preferred the frozen.
Like usual, the nicest and coolest people we met were from the great city of Mobile, Alabama. We explored the Vatican and went to lunch with them.
Make a night trip to the Fontana di Trevi and Piazza Navona—they are both beautiful when they are illuminated after dark! As for the Mafia—if we told you, we’d have to kill you.
Naples: May we suggest Florence instead?
On Sunday at noon, the Pope should make an appearance from his apartment window. If he’s not in his summer home, that would be a really cool sight to see! If you go, take pictures for me!
Piazza de Popola: a place we found when we were wandering around one day. It’s a lovely park to walk through. As for pubs, not so much. Pretty sure they’re unique to Britannia.
Quintessentially, Italians do not like to speak English even though they are perfectly capable. Just prepare to speak slowly or in poor Italian. As for the Queen—someone today found out that we we spoke English and his automatic response was “Queen Elizabeth II???” But no, we have not met her. We’re in Rome…
Roma pass: get it at the metro station by the Coliseum. It will get you 3 days on the metro plus entrance into two exhibits for free.
Spanish Steps: worth the hike. A trip to the top gives you a great view of the city.
Tiramisu: Always a good choice.
Underground: Pretty good, actually. It’s no Piccadilly line terminating at Cockfosters (mind the gap) but there are two lines that get you where you need to be. Mostly.
Very. Very. Very. Rude. The people at our Best Western were sooo mean!
Weather: Sunny and hot. PERFECT.
X. This isn’t an x but croissants are really overcooked here. We miss sainsburyyyys.
You should never, under any circumstances, accept a Vatican tour. Even if a sweet North Carolina girl says it’s a good idea, DON’T DO IT. Did we mention that already?
Zebra crossings (aka crosswalks) are really scary. Just close your
eyes and make a run for it. On second thought…maybe just make a run for it.
pace, amore and tiramisu,
hallet and emily
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