I knew when I moved to New York that I would be sharing the city with 8 million people.
But I foolishly thought that since there's more people, there would be more repairmen.
That was a stupid assumption.
As you all obviously know, I have a blog, I am a freelance writer, I'm trying to find a writing job.... etc. All of this requires me to be on the Internet. So when it started acting up, meaning I could go online at some points during the day and other times I could not, I called the cable company.
Their first question?
"Is the cable plugged in?"
Um, I might be a little naive at times, but I'm not an idiot.
So four people later, they said they would send out a repairman. In six days.
SIX days?!?!
Here's where I begrudgingly admit that the Internet has become like my cell phone - I feel completely lost if I don't have the technology at my fingertips WORKING properly!
A friend and former colleague who grew up in New York warned me that it takes FOREVER for repairmen to show up, but I thought "forever" meant, like, a whole day later. Man!
So I told the IT guy that I am a freelance writer and needed the Internet to do my job (which is technically true. They didn't need to know taht I don't have any assignments due this week.)
The guy paused, then said he'd talk to his supervisor and get back with me in five minutes.
This was satisfying... for five minutes.
Then he called back and said that the earliest appointment they had was in FIVE days. Gee. Thanks.
Guess I'll be spending a lot more time at the Columbus branch of the New York Public Library!
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
At least I didn't burn myself
I went to work at the coffee shop today with a new attitude.
A positive one.
I was in a good mood, so I took that good mood with me to work. My co-workers noticed and said I was much more spunky.
Brent made me feel a lot better about myself (love that man!) and my job, and that's what I was thinking about. Besides, there's something to be said about having a mindless job for awhile.
HA!
As I probably should have guessed, working at a coffee shop is anything but mindless. People N-E-V-E-R simply want coffee! OK, that I knew and that I can handle. People always want specialized drinks, but I can handle that as well because I have to learn how to make all those specialized drinks that the coffee shop offers.
The problems arise when people aren't just happy with a cappuccino. They want a wet decaf cappuccino with soy milk, 3 shots of espresso, whipped cream, and caramel topping.
My first response?
"Um, could you repeat that, like, seven times so I can process that please?"
My second response?
"What the heck is a wet cappuccino?" (I later learned it's one with more milk and less foam.)
My third response?
"Can I get some help here!?"
I'm sure all of it will become second nature once I get into the swing of things, but right now, it's not easy.
Plus, I'm sure I'm not making many friends, seeing since I spilled 100 sleeves into every single jug of milk, spilled half of a drink down my pant leg and on the floor, and dumped an entire plate of coffee cake that had just been stocked on the floor.
But at least the plate didn't break. Score one for me!
A positive one.
I was in a good mood, so I took that good mood with me to work. My co-workers noticed and said I was much more spunky.
Brent made me feel a lot better about myself (love that man!) and my job, and that's what I was thinking about. Besides, there's something to be said about having a mindless job for awhile.
HA!
As I probably should have guessed, working at a coffee shop is anything but mindless. People N-E-V-E-R simply want coffee! OK, that I knew and that I can handle. People always want specialized drinks, but I can handle that as well because I have to learn how to make all those specialized drinks that the coffee shop offers.
The problems arise when people aren't just happy with a cappuccino. They want a wet decaf cappuccino with soy milk, 3 shots of espresso, whipped cream, and caramel topping.
My first response?
"Um, could you repeat that, like, seven times so I can process that please?"
My second response?
"What the heck is a wet cappuccino?" (I later learned it's one with more milk and less foam.)
My third response?
"Can I get some help here!?"
I'm sure all of it will become second nature once I get into the swing of things, but right now, it's not easy.
Plus, I'm sure I'm not making many friends, seeing since I spilled 100 sleeves into every single jug of milk, spilled half of a drink down my pant leg and on the floor, and dumped an entire plate of coffee cake that had just been stocked on the floor.
But at least the plate didn't break. Score one for me!
Monday, January 28, 2008
Why I'll never be a haz-mat investigator
I have aloe vera between my index and middle finger on my left hand from a steam burn and both my tongue and throat are still screaming in pain from when I sampled WAAAAAYYYY too-hot coffee.
And I was only at my new job for four hours today.
Stupid coffee shop job.
I'm used to working at a desk in an office where the only hazardous situation I have to worry about is getting a paper cut - something I used to do often enough.
Anyone who knows me realizes that I'm kind of a klutz.
The fiance has stopped asking me about the bruises on my legs (from bumping into furniture that I KNOW is there) and the open sores and blisters that regularly develop on my heels and toes (from walking in high heels - for his benefit, I might add!).
I'll openly admit that I don't shave my legs as often as society dictates (I've heard there are women who shave, like, every day. What the heck?) because the razor always gets away from me, and I end up with a few minor slits all over my legs. One time, I didn't realize I was shaving with a defective razor and when I looked down, there were so many cuts on the bottom of my right leg that I needed to wrap it with an Ace bandage because it would have taken too many Band-aids to patch them all up. I honestly thought I was going to bleed to death that night.
But that still isn't as bad as slitting my wrist - which I did often enough while attempting to cut a long wedge out of a loaf of bread when I was 14 years old and working as a "Sandwich Artist" at Subway. And that was in front of customers!
So apparently I'm not made to do my new job.
I'll take paper cuts over third-degree burns any day!
And I was only at my new job for four hours today.
Stupid coffee shop job.
I'm used to working at a desk in an office where the only hazardous situation I have to worry about is getting a paper cut - something I used to do often enough.
Anyone who knows me realizes that I'm kind of a klutz.
The fiance has stopped asking me about the bruises on my legs (from bumping into furniture that I KNOW is there) and the open sores and blisters that regularly develop on my heels and toes (from walking in high heels - for his benefit, I might add!).
I'll openly admit that I don't shave my legs as often as society dictates (I've heard there are women who shave, like, every day. What the heck?) because the razor always gets away from me, and I end up with a few minor slits all over my legs. One time, I didn't realize I was shaving with a defective razor and when I looked down, there were so many cuts on the bottom of my right leg that I needed to wrap it with an Ace bandage because it would have taken too many Band-aids to patch them all up. I honestly thought I was going to bleed to death that night.
But that still isn't as bad as slitting my wrist - which I did often enough while attempting to cut a long wedge out of a loaf of bread when I was 14 years old and working as a "Sandwich Artist" at Subway. And that was in front of customers!
So apparently I'm not made to do my new job.
I'll take paper cuts over third-degree burns any day!
Sunday, January 27, 2008
OK, fine, I surrender
I actually had to hold back tears today when my new manager handed me an apron and asked me wipe off tables and restock coffee condiments in the lobby.
Yep, that's right. New York - you won.
I am a college-educated journalist with five years of experience living in a city with a publishing house on every other corner and I can't land a "real job" - or even a job as an intern.
So out of desperation and exasperation, I shelved my college education to ask customers if they would like their coffee for here or to go.
Now don't get me wrong - there is absolutely NOTHING wrong with working at a coffee shop. It's just not me. It's not my dream. It's not where I have envisioned myself at this stage of my life - especially now when I'm living in a city of opportunity for a limited time only. Plus, coffee always gives me a stomachache.
I guess I just expect greatness out of myself - or at the very least some success for crying out loud. And I'm failing.
I mean, what if Vincent van Gogh put his paintbrushes in a closet to work at a college snack shop (work with me here - I'm trying to make a point)? Or what if Stephen King assumed no one would want to read horror stories? Just to clarify - I'm NOT saying I'm even allowed to mention my name anywhere NEAR names like van Gogh or King, but you get what I'm getting at.
But what I've learned since moving here in December is a girl living in New York City has gotta have health insurance and a steady paycheck - things I haven't had since early November. My bank account shows it. My prescriptions are getting dangerously low.
And on top of that, a 120-pound Golden Retriever recently barreled into my right knee and forced it to bend a bit in the wrong direction. Luckily, the pain went away after a few days of icing it with frozen broccoli and taking lots of aspirin. But what if the mangy canine had caused a torn ligament or a broken ankle?
So until a publishing house gives me a chance to show them that I will be a valuable part of their team, I'll be wiping up coffee spills along with a few of my tears.
On the plus side, the fiance has been so supportive and appreciative that I'm not accepting unemployment with the occasional freelance paycheck as my job at the moment that it almost makes it seem worthwhile.
Almost.
Yep, that's right. New York - you won.
I am a college-educated journalist with five years of experience living in a city with a publishing house on every other corner and I can't land a "real job" - or even a job as an intern.
So out of desperation and exasperation, I shelved my college education to ask customers if they would like their coffee for here or to go.
Now don't get me wrong - there is absolutely NOTHING wrong with working at a coffee shop. It's just not me. It's not my dream. It's not where I have envisioned myself at this stage of my life - especially now when I'm living in a city of opportunity for a limited time only. Plus, coffee always gives me a stomachache.
I guess I just expect greatness out of myself - or at the very least some success for crying out loud. And I'm failing.
I mean, what if Vincent van Gogh put his paintbrushes in a closet to work at a college snack shop (work with me here - I'm trying to make a point)? Or what if Stephen King assumed no one would want to read horror stories? Just to clarify - I'm NOT saying I'm even allowed to mention my name anywhere NEAR names like van Gogh or King, but you get what I'm getting at.
But what I've learned since moving here in December is a girl living in New York City has gotta have health insurance and a steady paycheck - things I haven't had since early November. My bank account shows it. My prescriptions are getting dangerously low.
And on top of that, a 120-pound Golden Retriever recently barreled into my right knee and forced it to bend a bit in the wrong direction. Luckily, the pain went away after a few days of icing it with frozen broccoli and taking lots of aspirin. But what if the mangy canine had caused a torn ligament or a broken ankle?
So until a publishing house gives me a chance to show them that I will be a valuable part of their team, I'll be wiping up coffee spills along with a few of my tears.
On the plus side, the fiance has been so supportive and appreciative that I'm not accepting unemployment with the occasional freelance paycheck as my job at the moment that it almost makes it seem worthwhile.
Almost.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Soft boiled eggs with a side of sweater fuzz
Before Sarah caught her train to head back to Washington D.C. (sniff, sniff!) early Monday afternoon, we decided to grab some breakfast.
And I mean actual breakfast - not cupcakes!
On the advice of the friends we made in line while waiting for free tickets to the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre on Sunday night, we headed to Le Pain Quotidien Le Pain Quotidien on Seventh Avenue near Central Park - a restaurant that only serves organic foods.
I ordered the most amazing Belgian waffle I have ever eaten, which came topped with plump raspberries, blueberries, and blackberries, and Sarah decided to try a soft boiled egg because she wanted to see it come in a cute little metal stand that holds it vertically.
I had no idea that she didn't know how to eat a soft-boiled egg. But neither did I. So she decided to put the bottom of her spoon on the outer edge of it and put pressure on the egg towards her.
That is not the right way to open a soft-boiled egg, which we both discovered when the egg cracked and the yolk and whites of the egg flew all over Sarah's sweater and jeans.
The look on her face was priceless.
Luckily, I don't think anyone noticed - or if they did, they were being extremely successful at keeping their laughter to themselves. Unfortunately, I was not and laughed nearly as hard as I did when I was at the comedy club the night before.
After excusing herself to go to the bathroom and clean herself off, she came back with a new shirt and a big wet spot on her jeans to finish what was left of her egg and we busied ourselves spying on other customers to see how the eggs are actually eaten. (The tops are carefully cracked off and most dipped their spoons inside the eggs to eat what was inside.)
Now we know.
Even though Sarah left to go home shortly thereafter, (sniff, sniff!) it's those little moments that still keeps me smiling.
Love you girl!
And I mean actual breakfast - not cupcakes!
On the advice of the friends we made in line while waiting for free tickets to the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre on Sunday night, we headed to Le Pain Quotidien Le Pain Quotidien on Seventh Avenue near Central Park - a restaurant that only serves organic foods.
I ordered the most amazing Belgian waffle I have ever eaten, which came topped with plump raspberries, blueberries, and blackberries, and Sarah decided to try a soft boiled egg because she wanted to see it come in a cute little metal stand that holds it vertically.
I had no idea that she didn't know how to eat a soft-boiled egg. But neither did I. So she decided to put the bottom of her spoon on the outer edge of it and put pressure on the egg towards her.
That is not the right way to open a soft-boiled egg, which we both discovered when the egg cracked and the yolk and whites of the egg flew all over Sarah's sweater and jeans.
The look on her face was priceless.
Luckily, I don't think anyone noticed - or if they did, they were being extremely successful at keeping their laughter to themselves. Unfortunately, I was not and laughed nearly as hard as I did when I was at the comedy club the night before.
After excusing herself to go to the bathroom and clean herself off, she came back with a new shirt and a big wet spot on her jeans to finish what was left of her egg and we busied ourselves spying on other customers to see how the eggs are actually eaten. (The tops are carefully cracked off and most dipped their spoons inside the eggs to eat what was inside.)
Now we know.
Even though Sarah left to go home shortly thereafter, (sniff, sniff!) it's those little moments that still keeps me smiling.
Love you girl!
Monday, January 21, 2008
Dinosaur bones, sock mittens, and Chevy Chase
What do dinosaur bones, sock mittens, and Chevy Chase all have in common?
Well, they all showed up at some point or another during Sarah and I's amazingly fun and awesome Sunday!
Since we had the whole day ahead of us, Sarah decided to start it off on the right foot - with a cupcake for breakfast. I just stared at her over my shredded wheat. Compared to her, I'm really boring sometimes.
Then we went out into the freezing cold, hopped on the Subway, and headed to the American Museum of Natural History and ended up spending two-and-a-half hours there. (No, I couldn't get Brent to go. Boo!) But we barely made a dent at the museum - which we discovered as we were winding around exhibits we didn't know existed until we were trying to find our way out - something easier said than done.
But most of our time was spent on the top floor looking at the dinosaur bones and other animal exhibits - something we both found fascinating and fun. And we even had time left over to check out the space exhibit, which took us through a timeline of the history of our galaxy from the Big Bang until today. Space is awesome!
Afterward, we had some time to shop at Filene's Basement - home of the crazy brides stepping on each other to get discounted brand-name wedding dresses twice a year (thank God I already have mine - and it's gorgeous!!) and grab a delicious bite to eat at Ruby Foo's.
And since I'm such a great fiance, we made it home so I could make eggplant casserole for Brent, Sarah, and I (I make a homemade dinner every Sunday for Brent and I to enjoy together) and to chill out. The eggplant ended up being DELICIOUS, so Sarah and I ate up as much as we could, seeing since we had lunch about an hour before, before heading back out into the cold again to see if we could get tickets to a free comedy show at the Upright Citizen's Brigade Theatre.
It offers free shows on Sundays, so Sarah and I thought we could snag two tickets if we got there 45 minutes before they started handing them out.
We were wrong. They ran out of tickets about 10 people ahead of us. Crap.
We learned later that people start lining up for these shows at 6 p.m. because The Upright Citizens Brigade performs these improv shows with special guests and writers from Saturday Night Live, Late Night with Conan O'Brien, and The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. You never know who's going to show up.
So after waiting outside in the FREEZING cold, coupled with the frigid breeze, from about 7:40 until 8:20 p.m., Sarah and I decided to take our chances that we'd get standby tickets. But that meant standing outside in line for another hour. I don't do cold well at all, but was willing to suck it up for Sarah. I'm such a great friend.
I grabbed hot chocolate from a nearby Dunkin' Donuts, then Sarah and I started chatting up the four people ahead of us in line before Sarah and one of the guys ahead of us went into the supermarket we were standing next to to warm up.
After a few minutes, our new friend came out with those warming pads that warm up when exposed to air so you can stick them inside your gloves to keep your hands warm. And they were only $1.50 each. He bought enough for him and his friends, so I thought Sarah would be out any minute with some as well.
Sure enough, she came out with a shopping bag. My frozen hands could almost feel the heat. Until she pulled out a six-pack of socks. Socks?
She said since she couldn't find any gloves (she forgot to bring some to the theatre) it was either the socks or some oven mitts.
"WHY WAS IT BETWEEN SOCKS AND OVEN MITTS?" I asked her incredulously knowing that there was at least gardening gloves in there.
But she ignored me, put a pair of socks on her hands, and offered our new friends a pair of socks as I just shook my head. One of our friends actually accepted and took a pair of socks as mittens as well. Maybe Sarah will start a fashion trend.
Luckily, after nearly two hours of stamping our feet in the cold, we got into the theatre to see the ASSSSCAT 3000 show.
It was so totally worth it.
For the next 90 minutes, my abs got a total workout as I was cracking up from the second row at the improv delivered from about a dozen comedians - including Chevy Chase and Amy Poehler and Seth Meyers from Saturday Night Live.
From trying to get some on a ski slope instead of frostbite to stirring a vat of granola with, well, something you don't want to imagine that was ever, EVER even NEAR something that was going to be in your mouth, the show was brilliant. And it was free. What could be better?
I'll tell you now that I will no longer clap when I'm happy. I'm totally doing monkey arms.
Well, they all showed up at some point or another during Sarah and I's amazingly fun and awesome Sunday!
Since we had the whole day ahead of us, Sarah decided to start it off on the right foot - with a cupcake for breakfast. I just stared at her over my shredded wheat. Compared to her, I'm really boring sometimes.
Then we went out into the freezing cold, hopped on the Subway, and headed to the American Museum of Natural History and ended up spending two-and-a-half hours there. (No, I couldn't get Brent to go. Boo!) But we barely made a dent at the museum - which we discovered as we were winding around exhibits we didn't know existed until we were trying to find our way out - something easier said than done.
But most of our time was spent on the top floor looking at the dinosaur bones and other animal exhibits - something we both found fascinating and fun. And we even had time left over to check out the space exhibit, which took us through a timeline of the history of our galaxy from the Big Bang until today. Space is awesome!
Afterward, we had some time to shop at Filene's Basement - home of the crazy brides stepping on each other to get discounted brand-name wedding dresses twice a year (thank God I already have mine - and it's gorgeous!!) and grab a delicious bite to eat at Ruby Foo's.
And since I'm such a great fiance, we made it home so I could make eggplant casserole for Brent, Sarah, and I (I make a homemade dinner every Sunday for Brent and I to enjoy together) and to chill out. The eggplant ended up being DELICIOUS, so Sarah and I ate up as much as we could, seeing since we had lunch about an hour before, before heading back out into the cold again to see if we could get tickets to a free comedy show at the Upright Citizen's Brigade Theatre.
It offers free shows on Sundays, so Sarah and I thought we could snag two tickets if we got there 45 minutes before they started handing them out.
We were wrong. They ran out of tickets about 10 people ahead of us. Crap.
We learned later that people start lining up for these shows at 6 p.m. because The Upright Citizens Brigade performs these improv shows with special guests and writers from Saturday Night Live, Late Night with Conan O'Brien, and The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. You never know who's going to show up.
So after waiting outside in the FREEZING cold, coupled with the frigid breeze, from about 7:40 until 8:20 p.m., Sarah and I decided to take our chances that we'd get standby tickets. But that meant standing outside in line for another hour. I don't do cold well at all, but was willing to suck it up for Sarah. I'm such a great friend.
I grabbed hot chocolate from a nearby Dunkin' Donuts, then Sarah and I started chatting up the four people ahead of us in line before Sarah and one of the guys ahead of us went into the supermarket we were standing next to to warm up.
After a few minutes, our new friend came out with those warming pads that warm up when exposed to air so you can stick them inside your gloves to keep your hands warm. And they were only $1.50 each. He bought enough for him and his friends, so I thought Sarah would be out any minute with some as well.
Sure enough, she came out with a shopping bag. My frozen hands could almost feel the heat. Until she pulled out a six-pack of socks. Socks?
She said since she couldn't find any gloves (she forgot to bring some to the theatre) it was either the socks or some oven mitts.
"WHY WAS IT BETWEEN SOCKS AND OVEN MITTS?" I asked her incredulously knowing that there was at least gardening gloves in there.
But she ignored me, put a pair of socks on her hands, and offered our new friends a pair of socks as I just shook my head. One of our friends actually accepted and took a pair of socks as mittens as well. Maybe Sarah will start a fashion trend.
Luckily, after nearly two hours of stamping our feet in the cold, we got into the theatre to see the ASSSSCAT 3000 show.
It was so totally worth it.
For the next 90 minutes, my abs got a total workout as I was cracking up from the second row at the improv delivered from about a dozen comedians - including Chevy Chase and Amy Poehler and Seth Meyers from Saturday Night Live.
From trying to get some on a ski slope instead of frostbite to stirring a vat of granola with, well, something you don't want to imagine that was ever, EVER even NEAR something that was going to be in your mouth, the show was brilliant. And it was free. What could be better?
I'll tell you now that I will no longer clap when I'm happy. I'm totally doing monkey arms.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Weekend of awesomness
One of my best friends, Sarah, came up to New York from Washington D.C. for a long weekend, and I don't know if I could be more excited!
She got here early Saturday afternoon in time to help me finish grocery shopping. The fun here in New York never stops.
But I made it up to Sarah by making her stand in line with me in the cold for more than an hour so we could get 50 percent off tickets to see a Broadway show. (Hey - seeing a show was her idea!)
It was worth it, though, because we scored three tickets to Mamma Mia, which is one of the shows that Brent said he wanted to see. (Later, he told me that what he actually said was that Mamma Mia was the show he'd go and see willingly only if someone had held a gun to his head and told him he was going. Sigh.)
Even though he wasn't feeling well, he was a trooper as Sarah and I giggled and caught up with each other's lives while walking toward the theatre looking for a place to eat dinner.
After disagreeing on a few, we finally found one that was better suited for after-work drinks, but Sarah and I didn't really care because we got to sit on red velvet couches near coffee tables and felt like queens. Brent just went along with whatever we decided. He knows when he's outnumbered!
Since we weren't even sitting at a table, we ended up just ordered appetizers and sharing them all. That meant for dinner, I had nachos, brie, dumplings, and spring rolls. Awesome!
Though we didn't have the best seats for Mamma Mia (third from the back on one side) it was still a great show. The singing was phenomenal. I seriously never knew how good singing could be until I went to my first Broadway show.
While Sarah and I were enjoying the show, Brent was counting the number of songs he had to listen to until it ended. Not even ABBA could save the show for him. I do have to admit that the storyline was pretty silly, but it was funny, so I liked it, but not as much as Rent, of course.
After the show, Brent announced his retirement from seeing Broadway shows. Sigh. He's so not cultured.
But since he really wasn't feeling well, he walked us to the subway and headed home. Sarah and I weren't done having fun, so we did one thing I wanted to do - get some Pinkberry (see my Dec. 22, 2007 post) and one thing Sarah wanted to do - get some cupcakes at that famous bakery, Magnolia Bakery.
The bakery, which opened in the early 1900s on Bleecker Street near 11th Street in the West Village, is known for its dessert treats - most notably cupcakes. What other bakery do you know of that's open until 12:30 a.m.? And has a LINE of people outside waiting to get in at midnight?
But we understood why there was a line once we got close enough to see the brightly-colored chocolate and vanilla cupcakes decorated with sprinkles.
So even though the West Village after dark is a bit scary and deserted, the walk was worth it. I thought I'd like the chocolate ones much more than vanilla, but I was wrong. Vanilla cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery is where it's at. Y-U-M!!
And you know the cupcakes are good when my normally health-conscious fiance ate TWO in ONE day... on a non-cheat day, which is practically unheard of!
Maybe tomorrow I can get him to actually go to the museum!
She got here early Saturday afternoon in time to help me finish grocery shopping. The fun here in New York never stops.
But I made it up to Sarah by making her stand in line with me in the cold for more than an hour so we could get 50 percent off tickets to see a Broadway show. (Hey - seeing a show was her idea!)
It was worth it, though, because we scored three tickets to Mamma Mia, which is one of the shows that Brent said he wanted to see. (Later, he told me that what he actually said was that Mamma Mia was the show he'd go and see willingly only if someone had held a gun to his head and told him he was going. Sigh.)
Even though he wasn't feeling well, he was a trooper as Sarah and I giggled and caught up with each other's lives while walking toward the theatre looking for a place to eat dinner.
After disagreeing on a few, we finally found one that was better suited for after-work drinks, but Sarah and I didn't really care because we got to sit on red velvet couches near coffee tables and felt like queens. Brent just went along with whatever we decided. He knows when he's outnumbered!
Since we weren't even sitting at a table, we ended up just ordered appetizers and sharing them all. That meant for dinner, I had nachos, brie, dumplings, and spring rolls. Awesome!
Though we didn't have the best seats for Mamma Mia (third from the back on one side) it was still a great show. The singing was phenomenal. I seriously never knew how good singing could be until I went to my first Broadway show.
While Sarah and I were enjoying the show, Brent was counting the number of songs he had to listen to until it ended. Not even ABBA could save the show for him. I do have to admit that the storyline was pretty silly, but it was funny, so I liked it, but not as much as Rent, of course.
After the show, Brent announced his retirement from seeing Broadway shows. Sigh. He's so not cultured.
But since he really wasn't feeling well, he walked us to the subway and headed home. Sarah and I weren't done having fun, so we did one thing I wanted to do - get some Pinkberry (see my Dec. 22, 2007 post) and one thing Sarah wanted to do - get some cupcakes at that famous bakery, Magnolia Bakery.
The bakery, which opened in the early 1900s on Bleecker Street near 11th Street in the West Village, is known for its dessert treats - most notably cupcakes. What other bakery do you know of that's open until 12:30 a.m.? And has a LINE of people outside waiting to get in at midnight?
But we understood why there was a line once we got close enough to see the brightly-colored chocolate and vanilla cupcakes decorated with sprinkles.
So even though the West Village after dark is a bit scary and deserted, the walk was worth it. I thought I'd like the chocolate ones much more than vanilla, but I was wrong. Vanilla cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery is where it's at. Y-U-M!!
And you know the cupcakes are good when my normally health-conscious fiance ate TWO in ONE day... on a non-cheat day, which is practically unheard of!
Maybe tomorrow I can get him to actually go to the museum!
Thursday, January 17, 2008
PLEASE just give me a CHANCE!
Since I arrived in New York, I feel like I already have a full-time job... by applying for jobs.
Last count, I've applied for 116 jobs - that's ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTEEN - and have gotten three phone calls in total since I began applying for them this past summer.
I've gone on three interviews - one in August and two at the end of September. Two of the jobs didn't pan out and I declined going on a second interview for the third job.
Since then, however, I've been applying for job after job after job..... and NOTHING!
ZIP!
ZILCH!
It's not like I'm applying for jobs that are way above my skill level. Some only required a year or two of experience, and I have five when you count what I've done both at The Blade and in college. So I'm not going for something beyond my reach, here. And I've very much lowered my salary requirements, so what's the deal, man?
I wish there were some way to prove that I'd be a fantastic employee at a magazine writing features or in publishing working with authors so they would know that I'd be a good employee, but, sigh, that's not how it works.
So apparently the next step is to find some professionals to take a look at my resume and cover letter because I'm frustrated and pretty much nearly at the end of my rope.
To all those people who have gotten my resume - JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE ALREADY!
Last count, I've applied for 116 jobs - that's ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTEEN - and have gotten three phone calls in total since I began applying for them this past summer.
I've gone on three interviews - one in August and two at the end of September. Two of the jobs didn't pan out and I declined going on a second interview for the third job.
Since then, however, I've been applying for job after job after job..... and NOTHING!
ZIP!
ZILCH!
It's not like I'm applying for jobs that are way above my skill level. Some only required a year or two of experience, and I have five when you count what I've done both at The Blade and in college. So I'm not going for something beyond my reach, here. And I've very much lowered my salary requirements, so what's the deal, man?
I wish there were some way to prove that I'd be a fantastic employee at a magazine writing features or in publishing working with authors so they would know that I'd be a good employee, but, sigh, that's not how it works.
So apparently the next step is to find some professionals to take a look at my resume and cover letter because I'm frustrated and pretty much nearly at the end of my rope.
To all those people who have gotten my resume - JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE ALREADY!
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
American Idol is back, baby!
Finally! It's the moment we've all been waiting for!
AMERICAN IDOL IS BACK for SEASON SEVEN! Woo-hoo!
And for all of you loyal readers of The Blade in Toledo, the editors have asked me to continue my American Idol coverage, so you can still read my stories there! Here's my first story on American Idol for the seventh season.
Today and tomorrow, look forward to a total of four hours of hilarious auditions.
From there, the auditions will be an hour every Tuesday and Wednesday from 8 to 9 p.m. until Feb. 12, when we'll go to Hollywood for Hell Week.
The top 24 will be revealed on Feb. 13.
Once the top 12 are revealed, I'll start writing stories about who gets the boot until one is left. Can't wait!
AMERICAN IDOL IS BACK for SEASON SEVEN! Woo-hoo!
And for all of you loyal readers of The Blade in Toledo, the editors have asked me to continue my American Idol coverage, so you can still read my stories there! Here's my first story on American Idol for the seventh season.
Today and tomorrow, look forward to a total of four hours of hilarious auditions.
From there, the auditions will be an hour every Tuesday and Wednesday from 8 to 9 p.m. until Feb. 12, when we'll go to Hollywood for Hell Week.
The top 24 will be revealed on Feb. 13.
Once the top 12 are revealed, I'll start writing stories about who gets the boot until one is left. Can't wait!
Monday, January 14, 2008
It's what responsible people do
I quit my job in Toledo in November to move to New York City in December. Except for some freelance opportunities I've taken advantage of, I no longer have a steady source of income.
So today, I did what any responsible unemployed person would do.
I went on a shopping spree.
Well, what else do I have to do with my time?
As I mentioned before, Ali and I went shoe shopping on Sunday, but I didn't find exactly what I was looking for, which were Ugg knock-offs. So I did a bit of Internet research and found that Famous Footwear had the exact ones I was looking for - for 1/4 of the price of regular Uggs.
But before I got to Famous Footwear, I found a cute pair of brown shoes at Payless, so I bought those. Then I found the boots I was looking for along with a pair of black ultra low boots, and bought both. On the way home, I also snatched up some suede brown boots to go over jeans at another store.
Luckily, Brent wasn't even upset when he saw four shoe boxes in the living room when he got home. He was just happy that I was going to have something to wear around the city during the winter other than my tennis shoes. He did ask if it would matter if suggested that I stop spending money because I didn't have a job.
I replied by looking at the shoe boxes and looking back at him with a helpless stare. I mean come on! They're shoes! And they're SOOOO cute!
Brent just sighed - he knows when he's beaten. Shoes have that power.
'Nuff said.
So today, I did what any responsible unemployed person would do.
I went on a shopping spree.
Well, what else do I have to do with my time?
As I mentioned before, Ali and I went shoe shopping on Sunday, but I didn't find exactly what I was looking for, which were Ugg knock-offs. So I did a bit of Internet research and found that Famous Footwear had the exact ones I was looking for - for 1/4 of the price of regular Uggs.
But before I got to Famous Footwear, I found a cute pair of brown shoes at Payless, so I bought those. Then I found the boots I was looking for along with a pair of black ultra low boots, and bought both. On the way home, I also snatched up some suede brown boots to go over jeans at another store.
Luckily, Brent wasn't even upset when he saw four shoe boxes in the living room when he got home. He was just happy that I was going to have something to wear around the city during the winter other than my tennis shoes. He did ask if it would matter if suggested that I stop spending money because I didn't have a job.
I replied by looking at the shoe boxes and looking back at him with a helpless stare. I mean come on! They're shoes! And they're SOOOO cute!
Brent just sighed - he knows when he's beaten. Shoes have that power.
'Nuff said.
When women go shopping, they are not messing around!
I got an unexpected, but great phone call during my one-night stand on Saturday with Brent. On the other end of the phone was Ali, a former colleague. We worked together at The Blade newspaper last summer while she was there as an intern during her summer break from college. We had fun during the three plus months she was in Toledo, playing board games, tennis, and going out to dinner.
As luck would have it, she told me on the phone that she was on her way overseas and had a day-long layover at a New York City airport. But rather than be stuck in the airport all day, she asked if I was free to hang out. I of course said YES! I FINALLY had a friend look me up the next time he or she was in New York! Yay!
So we met up at the subway station near my place late Sunday morning and walked uptown to Europan to eat brunch and catch up on each other's lives.
Afterward, we spent the next FIVE hours walking from around 64th Street to Soho, which is more than two miles, and stopping in tons of shoe stores, Old Navy, and interesting shops along the way. We were ultimately headed to Muji - an IKEA-like store that opened its first U.S. store in November.
Though they had great stuff there - lots of plain white, but beautiful dishes, teapots, and other housewears along with office supplies, pillows, and clothes, it was EXPENSIVE. Ali said it was probably the exchange rate that made it seem so overpriced. But she found a cute skirt and a T-shirt for both her and her mom there, so the walk was worth it.
And since she goes to Yale, she said we'll be seeing each other more often after she finishes a semester studying in Argentina - how awesome is that?! - because she often comes into the city when she wants a break from classes. Yay!
Thanks for a fun day Ali!
As luck would have it, she told me on the phone that she was on her way overseas and had a day-long layover at a New York City airport. But rather than be stuck in the airport all day, she asked if I was free to hang out. I of course said YES! I FINALLY had a friend look me up the next time he or she was in New York! Yay!
So we met up at the subway station near my place late Sunday morning and walked uptown to Europan to eat brunch and catch up on each other's lives.
Afterward, we spent the next FIVE hours walking from around 64th Street to Soho, which is more than two miles, and stopping in tons of shoe stores, Old Navy, and interesting shops along the way. We were ultimately headed to Muji - an IKEA-like store that opened its first U.S. store in November.
Though they had great stuff there - lots of plain white, but beautiful dishes, teapots, and other housewears along with office supplies, pillows, and clothes, it was EXPENSIVE. Ali said it was probably the exchange rate that made it seem so overpriced. But she found a cute skirt and a T-shirt for both her and her mom there, so the walk was worth it.
And since she goes to Yale, she said we'll be seeing each other more often after she finishes a semester studying in Argentina - how awesome is that?! - because she often comes into the city when she wants a break from classes. Yay!
Thanks for a fun day Ali!
Sunday, January 13, 2008
On top of the world
I had my first one-night stand on Saturday, and it was fantastic!
Before you jump to conclusions - my one-night stand was with my fiance, Brent. Sheesh!
I got the idea from the fantastic book "Forget About It" by Caprice Crane, which I totally recommend to anyone looking for a good book to read.
For our one-night stands, both Brent and I take turns coming up with a fun activity to do together every other Saturday. The caveat is that it has to be something we've never done before, and may never do again, hence the one-night stand.
It sounds harder than it is, but it probably will almost always will be a restaurant we've never eaten at before along with an activity we've never done.
So since I came up with our first activity yesterday, Brent will need to come up with his idea in two weeks. That means we'll get to do some sort of New York-y thing twice a month, which is probably all we'll be able to afford anyway!
For my turn, I poured over some of the "stuff to do in New York" books I've gotten as gifts to find a good romantic restaurant because I was in the mood for romance!
Right when I saw the restaurant called Chez Josephine , I knew I hit money. My middle name is Jo because I was named after an uncle who died before I was born. But since that's a guy's name, Brent usually c
alls me Josephine as one of his pet names. Since he hates surprises, I gave him the hint that we were going to "my place" for dinner followed by something spectacular!
And since we were going somewhere romantic, it gave me an excuse to dress up!
alls me Josephine as one of his pet names. Since he hates surprises, I gave him the hint that we were going to "my place" for dinner followed by something spectacular!And since we were going somewhere romantic, it gave me an excuse to dress up!
For some reason, I had the urge to wear my red pumps - red equals romance, after all, and paired that up with skinny jeans, a red fitted shirt, and a black stretchy belt cinched around my midsection.
I also had the urge to do something different with my hair, so I channeled the '80s and crimped the top half. Honestly, I have no idea whether I looked stylish or just plain silly, but I felt pretty fashionable!
Many blocks later - with many Band-aids wrapped around my toes and adhered to my heels - we got to the restaurant and sat down right away at an intimate table with candles. Brent had the salmon - of course - with veggies, and I tried some delicious angel hair pasta with squash and tomatoes.
After my feet had some time to rest, and after Brent made me ruin the surprise by telling him where we were headed, we walked another few blocks to the tallest building in New York City - The Empire State Building at Fifth Avenue and West 34th Street. It was the world's tallest building for 40 years, from its completion in 1931 until the World Trade Center's North Tower was built in 1972. It then became New York City's tallest building once again after the World Trade Center towers were destroyed in 2001.
It took FOREVER to get to the top because we had to weave through line after line in room after room and down hallway after hallway, but finally we rode two elevators to the 86th floor observation deck.
Because we went at night, the view was SPECTACULAR. It was a clear night, so we could see for 20 miles in every direction. The city stretched out before us in three directions and we could see the Hudson River and New Jersey in the other. Though it was freezing, it was also romantic.
Then we capped off the evening with a subway ride home because there was no way I was walking yet another step in those great-looking, yet ridiculously painful shoes. It hurts when you're trying to be beautiful!
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Sometimes Hell's Kitchen lives up to its name
As I've mentioned before, I live in the Manhattan neighborhood known as Hell's Kitchen. It's roughly the area between 34th and 57th streets from 8th Avenue to the Hudson River.
Since I've been here, I've heard several stories about how Hell's Kitchen got its name. But my favorite version, and the most common one I've heard, involves a veteran police officer and his rookie partner. The pair were watching a small riot on West 39th Street near 10th Avenue, and the rookie is said to have muttered, "This place is Hell itself" to which the veteran cop replied, "Hell's a mild climate. This is Hell's Kitchen."
Though it has come a long way since then - and is actually a place I feel safe living in - it's the following SHOCKING story that make it live up to its namesake. This story was first pointed out to me by a source who wishes to remain anonymous. Let's refer to him as J. Wilhelm - no wait, that's too obvious. Let's call him Jim W. - a former colleague and president of the Erika Ray Blog Fanclub.
Though my source pointed it out to me first, it's come up in conversation many times with neighbors in a "did you hear about this story" kind of way, seeing since it happened a mere 4 blocks from my apartment.
Anyone seen "Weekend at Bernie's?" Apparently these two 65-year-old guys did too. And they thought they could get away with cashing their friend's Social Security check. Oh yeah - their friend was DEAD. But they were smart enough to know that their 66-year-old friend would have to be present to cash the check - so they ROLLED HIM TO THE CHECK-CASHING SHOP IN AN OFFICE CHAIR. All for a whopping $355, which they didn't get. Thankfully, they got arrested instead.
It's rare, but I am truly at a loss for words.
Read the whole story here.
Since I've been here, I've heard several stories about how Hell's Kitchen got its name. But my favorite version, and the most common one I've heard, involves a veteran police officer and his rookie partner. The pair were watching a small riot on West 39th Street near 10th Avenue, and the rookie is said to have muttered, "This place is Hell itself" to which the veteran cop replied, "Hell's a mild climate. This is Hell's Kitchen."
Though it has come a long way since then - and is actually a place I feel safe living in - it's the following SHOCKING story that make it live up to its namesake. This story was first pointed out to me by a source who wishes to remain anonymous. Let's refer to him as J. Wilhelm - no wait, that's too obvious. Let's call him Jim W. - a former colleague and president of the Erika Ray Blog Fanclub.
Though my source pointed it out to me first, it's come up in conversation many times with neighbors in a "did you hear about this story" kind of way, seeing since it happened a mere 4 blocks from my apartment.
Anyone seen "Weekend at Bernie's?" Apparently these two 65-year-old guys did too. And they thought they could get away with cashing their friend's Social Security check. Oh yeah - their friend was DEAD. But they were smart enough to know that their 66-year-old friend would have to be present to cash the check - so they ROLLED HIM TO THE CHECK-CASHING SHOP IN AN OFFICE CHAIR. All for a whopping $355, which they didn't get. Thankfully, they got arrested instead.
It's rare, but I am truly at a loss for words.
Read the whole story here.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Well it SHOULD be abandoned
When I moved into my apartment in Hell's Kitchen, I noted in my Dec. 8 post that it was directly next to an abandoned, graffiti-clad building with a padlocked chain on the front door and giant posters attached to it up to six feet above the sidewalk.I lied.
Apparently, I live next to an OCCUPIED graffiti-clad building that's has a brand-new hole in the side, now that someone wrenched open the wooden boards that were used to board it up. The hole is big enough for someone to fit through, but it sure as hell isn't anywhere I'll be going anytime soon.
Well, what can you expect from the second-oldest apartment house in Manhattan?
Apparently, in its heyday, it was all tricked out with marble fireplaces, uniformed "hall boys" to help the tenants, and the latest technology - the hydraulic elevator and the telephone.
I read up on the eight-story building, built in 1881 and named the Windermere, after seeing dozens of firefighters and police officers surrounding it the other day. There were so many of them that they actually had to close a portion of the street (read: right in front of my apartment building) and evacuate the area due to "hazardous conditions" which I later learned was a suspicious gas leak. One of our doorman suggested that someone was trying to blow up the eyesore, which has been in the middle of some serious litigation for years.
Most of the tenants have settled and moved out of the building. I say "most" because apparently, seven tenants still live there. I don't even want to IMAGINE what type of condition they're living in. But apparently court orders are protecting them living in the deteriorating building - one that I have serious doubts that it was ever as glorious as some claim.
Before we decided to move in to our building, I was encouraged by the scaffolding surrounding the neighboring building. But during the course of the blowing-up-the-building conversation that I had with one of our doormen recently, he said the scaffolding has been up for the last decade - probably holding the Windermere together.
And even though the building is a prime piece of Manhattan real estate, it was designated a city landmark in 2005 and isn't going away anytime soon. Damn.
Friday, January 4, 2008
I just didn't want to die in my sleep
I was just following the directions.
Next thing I know, I hear the wailing sound of a fire truck just before three firefighters wielding axes are beating on my apartment door.
And I was perfectly fine. And absolutely nothing was wrong. How embarassing.
Let's start from the beginning.
I was innocentely chilling out on my couch around 8:30 p.m. when I heard four piercing beeps. Chloe immediately jumped up to go hide in the bathroom (wuss) while it took me a minute to realize the blips were coming from the smoke detector.
Since my apartment is the size of a walk-in closet, I quickly looked around the room and observed that there was, in fact, no fire.
But it wouldn't stop beeping, and I couldn't get the battery out, so I twisted it off the ceiling and saw that it is actually a carbon monoxide and smoke alarm combo.
So between the beeps, which were so loud that I'm sure I was waking someone up in Finland, I read the directions on the back. They said the noise I was hearing - four quick, intermittent beeps, meant the alarm detected carbon monoxide.
Then I saw the WARNING! which states: "Carbon monoxide cannot be seen or smelled but can kill you." Oh shit, I thought. That must be why I've had a pounding headache all day and felt like a slug - I've been inhailing carbon monoxide!
So I read further under the warning. It said:
"If alarm signal sounds:
1) Operate the test / silence button."
Easy enough. But it wouldn't quit going off, so, naturally, I thought that meant my apartment was so saturated with the invisible poison that it was only a matter of time before I dropped dead.
So I read on:
2) Call your emergency services (fire department or 911)
3) Immediately move to fresh air - outdoors or by an open door/window
Number 2 seemed rather extreme, so after I got the building superintendent's voice mail, I opened the windows to let in the frigid air and called the emergency gas number I found in the phone book to ask them what I should do.
The woman who answered might as well been an answering machine because she didn't answer any of my questions and didn't offer any advice. All she asked for was my address, then said she was connecting me to the fire department.
OK, that's fine. They're the ones with the expertise, I thought. So I once again explained the situation to the fire department dispatcher, and before she hung up on me almost immediately, she said she was dispatching the fire department.
About five minutes later, I was dwarfed by three firefighters in full firefighting gear who came inside my apartment to check the carbon monoxide level - which was at ZERO. Seriously.
But they were nice enough to take the time to explain why the alarm may have gone off and what to do next time, which is reset it by taking the battery out and putting in a fresh one. If it continues to go off, DON'T open the windows, but call them immediately so they can see where the leak is.
About 30 minutes later, a representative from the gas company showed up to do additional tests, and found the levels to be much less than the maximum allowed. And while he was there, he made sure there was no gas leak.
So while I was extremely embarassed, I have to admit that I felt better knowing that I wasn't being poisoned and would most likely wake up the next morning - as long as Brent doesn't read this posting 'cause he'd totally kill me for being irrationally safe.
But better to be safe than sorry, right? RIGHT?
Next thing I know, I hear the wailing sound of a fire truck just before three firefighters wielding axes are beating on my apartment door.
And I was perfectly fine. And absolutely nothing was wrong. How embarassing.
Let's start from the beginning.
I was innocentely chilling out on my couch around 8:30 p.m. when I heard four piercing beeps. Chloe immediately jumped up to go hide in the bathroom (wuss) while it took me a minute to realize the blips were coming from the smoke detector.
Since my apartment is the size of a walk-in closet, I quickly looked around the room and observed that there was, in fact, no fire.
But it wouldn't stop beeping, and I couldn't get the battery out, so I twisted it off the ceiling and saw that it is actually a carbon monoxide and smoke alarm combo.
So between the beeps, which were so loud that I'm sure I was waking someone up in Finland, I read the directions on the back. They said the noise I was hearing - four quick, intermittent beeps, meant the alarm detected carbon monoxide.
Then I saw the WARNING! which states: "Carbon monoxide cannot be seen or smelled but can kill you." Oh shit, I thought. That must be why I've had a pounding headache all day and felt like a slug - I've been inhailing carbon monoxide!
So I read further under the warning. It said:
"If alarm signal sounds:
1) Operate the test / silence button."
Easy enough. But it wouldn't quit going off, so, naturally, I thought that meant my apartment was so saturated with the invisible poison that it was only a matter of time before I dropped dead.
So I read on:
2) Call your emergency services (fire department or 911)
3) Immediately move to fresh air - outdoors or by an open door/window
Number 2 seemed rather extreme, so after I got the building superintendent's voice mail, I opened the windows to let in the frigid air and called the emergency gas number I found in the phone book to ask them what I should do.
The woman who answered might as well been an answering machine because she didn't answer any of my questions and didn't offer any advice. All she asked for was my address, then said she was connecting me to the fire department.
OK, that's fine. They're the ones with the expertise, I thought. So I once again explained the situation to the fire department dispatcher, and before she hung up on me almost immediately, she said she was dispatching the fire department.
About five minutes later, I was dwarfed by three firefighters in full firefighting gear who came inside my apartment to check the carbon monoxide level - which was at ZERO. Seriously.
But they were nice enough to take the time to explain why the alarm may have gone off and what to do next time, which is reset it by taking the battery out and putting in a fresh one. If it continues to go off, DON'T open the windows, but call them immediately so they can see where the leak is.
About 30 minutes later, a representative from the gas company showed up to do additional tests, and found the levels to be much less than the maximum allowed. And while he was there, he made sure there was no gas leak.
So while I was extremely embarassed, I have to admit that I felt better knowing that I wasn't being poisoned and would most likely wake up the next morning - as long as Brent doesn't read this posting 'cause he'd totally kill me for being irrationally safe.
But better to be safe than sorry, right? RIGHT?
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Home for (one of) the holidays
As luck would have it, one of my good friends, Ryan, was getting married in Toledo on New Year's Eve so he and Jen could start the new year off as a married couple. Aww!
And even though the Secor building in downtown Toledo wasn't quite finished yet, the decorations were amazing and they had a beautiful, traditional Jewish ceremony followed by a fun reception in which people were hoised on chairs and the guests danced around them in circles.
So though I wasn't able to celebrate Christmas with my family on Christmas, I asked my mom to keep up the decorations so I could have Christmas with my family on New Year's Day. They even held off on opening gifts on Christmas so they could do it with me. Aww again!
So after a whirlwind of running errands and catching up with a select few friends and family members, I got back to New York late last night to continue the job search.
Wish me luck!
And even though the Secor building in downtown Toledo wasn't quite finished yet, the decorations were amazing and they had a beautiful, traditional Jewish ceremony followed by a fun reception in which people were hoised on chairs and the guests danced around them in circles.
So though I wasn't able to celebrate Christmas with my family on Christmas, I asked my mom to keep up the decorations so I could have Christmas with my family on New Year's Day. They even held off on opening gifts on Christmas so they could do it with me. Aww again!
So after a whirlwind of running errands and catching up with a select few friends and family members, I got back to New York late last night to continue the job search.
Wish me luck!
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