so much drama in the LIC

Dear People -

I'm sorry I've been neglectful. I've just been overwhelmingly preoccupied, as of late. Many reasons I cannot discuss here. Maybe it was Memphis. Maybe it was southern summer nights. Maybe it was you. Maybe it was me. Maybe it was my legitimatly insane roommate who decided to rent out her room to two strangers (a couple) from Craigslist while she's in Colombia for 2 weeks. Oh, and she told us the day before. Yeah...maybe that was it.

I'll be bock,
Hayley

P.S. We fixed the debacle (as I'm calling it). No sketchy strangers for 2 weeks.

the kind of thing only seen in scented, glossy magazines

I can see myself, back in the day, sitting on the 2nd floor of Patterson Hall (the all girl's freshman dorm at USC). My roommate, Leigh Ann and I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning almost every night. What were we doing? Watching some show about Tommy Hilfiger's daughter who had money coming out of her junk and sing/screaming Celine Dion and Barbara Streisand duets. Dude, do you remember that show??



*the rich girls*



*the p-hall girls*

I can also see myself, listening to John Mayer's "City Love" on repeat - daydreaming. I envisioned myself. For some reason it would be at night. Maybe a little rainy, for dramatic effect. Over a candle-lit dinner, I would sit. With my boyfriend, who probably looked something like John Mayer, and even had his voice. He would be a struggling singer, or maybe an actor. We'd have to share an apartment because we were so poor, but it wouldn't matter because we'd be so in love that we wouldn't have it any other way.

I was Lydia. I would have about 16 toothbrushes lying around all over the place, taking up tons of space. Of course my long, blonde hairs would be all over his personal possessions, because I shed like nobody's business. I'd have some job. Doing something. I'd even wear his clothes to work, because it would be the sort of job, where you can throw on a button down 3 sizes too big and maybe some boxers and just GO.

While at the aforementioned candle-lit dinner, we'd probably have too much wine or sangria or pabst blue ribbon. He'd think about proposing but instead, we'd just go home and spoon to the sound of sirens.

Yeah, that's how it would be when I got to New York City.

hello sweet summer

And I saw two NYU students - graduates maybe - from outside my cab window. They were holding a small TV. The one boy, with his filthy, once-white undershirt, uncomfortably toting the awkward television. The other boy, sucking on a Marlboro Light or maybe a Newport, to ease last night's binge. He solomnley held the TV's matching remote. This one shouted a verbal version of a Craigslist advertisement: "Twenty dollars! This TV is perfect for dorm rooms! Kitchens! Bedrooms!"

I imagined they had just finished their semester. They had shared memories with this TV. They were roommates. They were going back to Cali or Colorado for their summers. They were making more memories by selling this TV on a lazy New York City Sunday - this very moment. One day they would tell their kids about "the time after sophomore year" when they sold their TV for $20. They would leave out the part about needing the twenty bucks for a bag of weed from Washington Square Park. They would tell their friends at the bar tonight about how "crazy" they both were, and laugh out loud while downing Guiness and flashing fake IDs. They would tell their bar friends about how they spent their TV money on a bag of weed from WSP. And how it was totally worth it.

the truth about cats

Apartment searching in NYC is a ****ing joke. Pardon my Southern.

I found my current residence through Craigslist and it is working out just fine for the time being. I have a scenic view, a cool breeze off the East River, a gym I don't go to, and a doorman who flirts with me when I leave all gussied up on Saturday nights.

But I've been searching for greener pastures as of late.

"All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost." -- J.R.R. Tolkein

I'm a restless soul - what can I say? So I've been scouring the Craiglist world again, crossing my fingers to find rent of no more than $1000. I'm sorry, but I refuse to pay more than a grand a month. I'd have to start wearing plastic bags to parties and claim a fashion statement.



Ivy Walker, ladies and Gentleman. (a best friend and long story)

SO - first you have to weed out the ads that offer you free rent in exchange for "occasional requests to walk around the apartment naked" (true story). Then you must assure that you're not going ABOVE the 100's (east OR west side - trust me). In addition, you'll find that every freak in NY has a cat.

Now I DESPISE cats. They are shady, moody creatures that rub against your legs and scratch your eyeballs out in the same sitting. Much like myself. And I distrust ANYONE like myself.

Yesterday, I went uptown to check out a place that didn't sound half bad. It was on the West side and I broke my 100's rule by 6 blocks. (I thought I'd let it slide) Arriving above ground, my first impression was "OK, we're right next to CP. Not half bad." Next thing I know, all I'm hearing is the sound of sirens and ice cream trucks.

I immediately made a call, requesting help. It went something like this:

"I'm scared. There are a lot of sketchy people walking around."
"OK, my game just ended. I'll come pick you up. Where are you?"
"Oh GOD PLEASE HURRY - 106th and ... Columbus? Manhattan Ave? BY THE PARK!"
"OK, walk up to 110th and I'll meet you there. I am getting a cab."
"Walk UP? Are you KIDDING ME? Are you IN a cab, or are you GETTING a cab? PLEASE SAVE ME! *pause* I just had to walk through a gang."

Ten minutes later - prince charming swept me away in a shiny, silver towncar. Aw - I just realized my sense of urgency led him to jump in the first car he found, as opposed to waiting for a yellow cab.

We dropped off at Columbia University and ate Falafel and veggie soup on the campus quad.

And last night I slept peacefully in my over-priced high rise...16 floors above any would-be perpetrators.

212

Sometimes I have to remind myself why I am in NYC. Sometimes when I'm showing my beloved Infiniti QX4 to a potential buyer (because I don't need it anymore)...or when I'm scouring craigslist for a SECOND job (beacuse I refuse to give up the lifestyle I maintain)...or when I'm walking a combined 20 minutes a day to and from the subway to work, head buried down, running nose deep in my Burberry (because it's so incredibly frigid and it gets even colder when the wind blows off the water that my high rise towers over) - Sometimes.I.just.have.to.ask.myself. And then it hits me...






That's the roofdeck at my new apartment. 15 minutes from my office in Midtown Manhattan. It makes me so happy. I live with Gabor, (he's Hungarian, and works in finance) Claudia, (she's Colombian and from PA) and Natalia is a Latvian model who sleeps on our couch. Well - we just found out she's leaving us at the end of the month. I will miss her. Gabor, Natalia and I went to see Saw IV yesterday - awful. I'm not even sure who decided on that one.

I can't even think of a witty way to end this one...