Who makes it in this world? You'd think it was the ambitious ones. Is it the ones who take the stairs two-at-a-time, or those freaks who stick to the left side of the moving escalator and walk up it? ...making all us normal people feel like a bunch of lazy tourists. I mean is it necessary for the escalator to have two lanes? Let's be real here.
What about the people who get up from their seat on the subway (while it's moving of course) and make their way to the closed doors (we're still moving folks)... What's their deal? There they are - nose virtually pressed against those greasy doors (that look like they might fall off any day now), ready to jump out of the gates like they're escaping hell's fire and fury. I can see the bubble beside their head, "Come on, come on. The friggin' train is stopped. I'm standing right here. No one - *side glance to the left* oh no yah don't gramps - get back - I said NO one is getting out of this subway before me." Open the door. BAM they're off.
They're the same ones who walk up the escalator.
Now you might be wondering if I've ever done this. I sure seem to know a lot about it. Meh, well maybe one day you'll see me in the subway. Make your own observations.
I'm wondering about these people though. Does this little extra "oomph" in their everyday commute transfer to their everyday lives...relationships...jobs? Maybe that's how you tell the ambitious ones from the "meh, this subway isn't so bad - I don't mind riding it foreeeeeeeeeever" ones. Maybe those are the people who will be signing your paycheck one day and riding to work in a shiny, black towncar.
Or maybe those people just really have to pee.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Thursday, January 10, 2008
gossip girl
I may have missed last night's episode of Gossip Girl, but I still got to watch some UES socialites. Plans change quickly sometimes. After I left work, an acquaintance of mine sent a text inviting me to the Dominique Cohen jewelry store opening - 65th and Madison, across from Valentino. Among the short guest list of 50 or so, swanky upper-east-siders was the co-host Gillian Hearst Simonds (of publishing giant, Hearst). Impressive.
I've been thrown into a lot of brilliantly diverse environments with equally diverse classes of people here in NY. The VIP lounge of a dark, pounding night club with about 30 Soprano-esque Italians who LOVE to party - hey where's Vito? A Latino dance club over-looking the river, with incredible music and oh can they dance. Then of course, we have the intimate loft party with a buffet of ethnicity's and accents (see a few posts back). However, I must admit, I had been looking forward with great anticipation to catch a glimpse of the snobby socialite scene that is portrayed on one of my favorite shows - Gossip Girl.
The store is by far, the most luminous corner on Madison Avenue tonight. Coat check, velvet ropes, chitter chatter, snapping photographers. Dominique Cohen creates beautiful designs with the most intricately delicate patterns. Draping gold necklaces adorn the headless decolletage in suffocatingly small glass display cases. We brush past an almost-beautiful redhead who is more slender than my left pinkie and 6 feet tall because of her patent leather bootie/pumps. She is surrounded by five or six well dressed admirerers. Our eyes meet, and she smiles with an intensity that seems to stem from curiosity or blow - or both. I'm later told that she is a diamond dealer heiress and has graced Page Six with her addictions. How should I know?
Similar to wild animals in their natural habitat, you wouldn't want to get too close - because they look crazy and who knows what might happen. Okay not really. I was complimented on my Tory boots by a short lady in a short dress. There was a cool-as-a-cucumber DJ spinning in the back near the bar. Yummy waiters - in all black - slid in and out of the crowd with hor'dourves. And then I saw him...
Slender like a model. A young Johnny Depp with a baby face. Thick, black rimmed eye-glasses and a shy smile. We locked eyes and I immediately told him he was the cutest thing I'd ever seen. (I was a drink or two in at this point and it was acceptable) He grinned, looked down, and I took an artichoke tart from the tray he presented me. Yes, he was a waiter. I was intriguied by no other for the remainder of the evening. Of course he kept moving, but he came back. We passed eachother, and smiled. He winked. I tried not to stare and pathetically scan the room every five minutes to find him. I would take this man over a Park Avenue Prince any day.
The party is ending and I become frantic. I have nothing. No card, no pen, no time to store a number in my cell. Talk about being unprepared. I tug on the waiter nearest me. "The man with the glasses, is he gay or straight?". I can't even believe the words that are coming out of my mouth. Is that even the question we are supposed to ask first? What about single or taken? I have no idea what I'm doing. He smiles kindly and tells me he is straight - and taken. Damn damn damn. There is no point in pursuing. We take our coats, our gift bags (which contain a scented candle, custom Dominique Cohen black bowtie earrings, and two chocolates), and leave. I can't stop wondering if the other waiter knew exactly which "man in the glasses" I was referring to. *sighs*
We go across the street to a small French restaurant called Paris Match and have dinner with my friend's friend - who is a fashion designer. We have hummus, and sushi, and french fries (I'm wondering the same thing now). At the end of the night, I hop into a cab .. accidentally leaving my DC gift bag .. and McDreamy .. on Madison Avenue.
I've been thrown into a lot of brilliantly diverse environments with equally diverse classes of people here in NY. The VIP lounge of a dark, pounding night club with about 30 Soprano-esque Italians who LOVE to party - hey where's Vito? A Latino dance club over-looking the river, with incredible music and oh can they dance. Then of course, we have the intimate loft party with a buffet of ethnicity's and accents (see a few posts back). However, I must admit, I had been looking forward with great anticipation to catch a glimpse of the snobby socialite scene that is portrayed on one of my favorite shows - Gossip Girl.
The store is by far, the most luminous corner on Madison Avenue tonight. Coat check, velvet ropes, chitter chatter, snapping photographers. Dominique Cohen creates beautiful designs with the most intricately delicate patterns. Draping gold necklaces adorn the headless decolletage in suffocatingly small glass display cases. We brush past an almost-beautiful redhead who is more slender than my left pinkie and 6 feet tall because of her patent leather bootie/pumps. She is surrounded by five or six well dressed admirerers. Our eyes meet, and she smiles with an intensity that seems to stem from curiosity or blow - or both. I'm later told that she is a diamond dealer heiress and has graced Page Six with her addictions. How should I know?
Similar to wild animals in their natural habitat, you wouldn't want to get too close - because they look crazy and who knows what might happen. Okay not really. I was complimented on my Tory boots by a short lady in a short dress. There was a cool-as-a-cucumber DJ spinning in the back near the bar. Yummy waiters - in all black - slid in and out of the crowd with hor'dourves. And then I saw him...
Slender like a model. A young Johnny Depp with a baby face. Thick, black rimmed eye-glasses and a shy smile. We locked eyes and I immediately told him he was the cutest thing I'd ever seen. (I was a drink or two in at this point and it was acceptable) He grinned, looked down, and I took an artichoke tart from the tray he presented me. Yes, he was a waiter. I was intriguied by no other for the remainder of the evening. Of course he kept moving, but he came back. We passed eachother, and smiled. He winked. I tried not to stare and pathetically scan the room every five minutes to find him. I would take this man over a Park Avenue Prince any day.
The party is ending and I become frantic. I have nothing. No card, no pen, no time to store a number in my cell. Talk about being unprepared. I tug on the waiter nearest me. "The man with the glasses, is he gay or straight?". I can't even believe the words that are coming out of my mouth. Is that even the question we are supposed to ask first? What about single or taken? I have no idea what I'm doing. He smiles kindly and tells me he is straight - and taken. Damn damn damn. There is no point in pursuing. We take our coats, our gift bags (which contain a scented candle, custom Dominique Cohen black bowtie earrings, and two chocolates), and leave. I can't stop wondering if the other waiter knew exactly which "man in the glasses" I was referring to. *sighs*
We go across the street to a small French restaurant called Paris Match and have dinner with my friend's friend - who is a fashion designer. We have hummus, and sushi, and french fries (I'm wondering the same thing now). At the end of the night, I hop into a cab .. accidentally leaving my DC gift bag .. and McDreamy .. on Madison Avenue.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
no thanks
I turned down an invitation for "a drink" tonight.
Because the truth is I would rather get off work, stop by Trader Joe's to do some grocery shopping, make dinner for myself, go to the gym, and watch the juicy new Gossip Girl - in my PJ's - alone. What is wrong with me?! I want the rewards and I don't want to do any of the work. I would rather just automatically have some boy sitting in my living room when I get home. So you're telling me I actually have to find him?
PostScript - there is almost nothing better than getting through your day, guilt-free - knowing you've made every smart eating decision there is. And this Berry Fulfilling Jamba Juice is just amazing.
Because the truth is I would rather get off work, stop by Trader Joe's to do some grocery shopping, make dinner for myself, go to the gym, and watch the juicy new Gossip Girl - in my PJ's - alone. What is wrong with me?! I want the rewards and I don't want to do any of the work. I would rather just automatically have some boy sitting in my living room when I get home. So you're telling me I actually have to find him?
PostScript - there is almost nothing better than getting through your day, guilt-free - knowing you've made every smart eating decision there is. And this Berry Fulfilling Jamba Juice is just amazing.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
come pick me up
**DISCLAIMER** My writing is therapeutic for me and my goal is to provide a (slightly biased) perspective into the world in which I live. This includes the good, the bad and the ugly (to be completely cliche). So, if I sound bitchy and boastful - please know this is not my intention. Or stop reading.
Other than that - business as usual. If you haven't tried any of the Amy's Organic food products, you should. I'm heating up her fabulous black bean burrito at this very moment before heading downstairs to the gym. I have my usual hot date with Oprah at 7. Ahh working out - because you never know when you might get invited to the Grammy's (was asked this past weekend), or some crackhead wants to fly you to Miami. (more than once) I mean you just.never.know. Before you get the slightest wrong impression, let me assure you I am NOT bragging about this - nor am I taking up on either of these offers. The crackhead is - well, a crackhead. (figuratively speaking) And the Grammy guy is well - just too old for me. *sighs* However, I thought this was one of the most amusing attempts I've had thus far:
*The following is a text conversation with a man whose intent was to invite me out to the table he had with some friends at a club in meatpacking*
HIM
ME
"Oh come on everybody expecting U"
"Haha nobody knows me there"
"The owners and the press asked me about U. I told them U were a Southern socialite-beauty who just moved to NYC"
"Haha I bet!"
"I'm telling U, they're all asking. Tonight come. I'll send U car service."
"Haha doesn't matter...im not anyone famous...and if i drink alcohol i will just die."
Needless to say, I didn't go. I'm sorry - he just lost me after "Southern socialite-beauty"...
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Other than that - business as usual. If you haven't tried any of the Amy's Organic food products, you should. I'm heating up her fabulous black bean burrito at this very moment before heading downstairs to the gym. I have my usual hot date with Oprah at 7. Ahh working out - because you never know when you might get invited to the Grammy's (was asked this past weekend), or some crackhead wants to fly you to Miami. (more than once) I mean you just.never.know. Before you get the slightest wrong impression, let me assure you I am NOT bragging about this - nor am I taking up on either of these offers. The crackhead is - well, a crackhead. (figuratively speaking) And the Grammy guy is well - just too old for me. *sighs* However, I thought this was one of the most amusing attempts I've had thus far:
*The following is a text conversation with a man whose intent was to invite me out to the table he had with some friends at a club in meatpacking*
HIM
ME
"Oh come on everybody expecting U"
"Haha nobody knows me there"
"The owners and the press asked me about U. I told them U were a Southern socialite-beauty who just moved to NYC"
"Haha I bet!"
"I'm telling U, they're all asking. Tonight come. I'll send U car service."
"Haha doesn't matter...im not anyone famous...and if i drink alcohol i will just die."
Needless to say, I didn't go. I'm sorry - he just lost me after "Southern socialite-beauty"...
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Monday, January 7, 2008
good news for people who love bad news
all that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost.
-- j.r.r. tolkien
Sometimes I feel like I'm on an extended vaca in NY. Oh I'll be going back eventually. No. When people up here ask me (and almost everyday someone does) "do you like it here" and "will you ever go back"? I tell them in the most exasperated tone that I simply love it and that the only other places I would consider moving beyond New York would be San Fran, San Diego, or Europe. Everyday is such a plethora of experiences and explosion of sensory pleasures, that anything less would surely result in death by boredom.
My roommate, Gabor had his family (father, mother, brother, brother's girlfriend) visiting NY these past couple weeks for the holidays. They're from Hungary. Well, Camilla the girlfriend is from Poland. His mom doesn't speak English. So that was interesting enough to have to have everything translated. His brother and his brother's gf don't know eachother's first language so they oddly enough speak their second language (English) to eachother only. It was Camilla's first time in the States. She really liked it. As we were sitting in our living room watching MTV's super stupid "Super Sweet Sixteen" - Camilla tells me these shows are blasted across Europe and that she (along with everyone else) is under the impression that THIS is what American teens are like. She was completely surprised when she actually got here and found out that wasn't the case. She asked me if I had a Sweet 16 party like the ones on this show. I laughed out loud and told her no. I was in shock. No wonder so many people despise us. We are the superpower here and hold an immense responsibility in this world. Why is everyone so disillusioned? Sad to say, the media is responsible for the majority of this misrepresentation.
But you have to ask yourself...how far off is the media from the truth? We have deserted our once industrial society and traded it for a consuming one. A society dependent on services. It's all about us. What can you do to make my life more comfortable, flamboyant, sexy, fun? Work ethic out the window - let's depend on our rich Daddy's who work in the Pharma companies to throw us parties worthy of MTV. But oh, there's no real-life reward in that - is there, little girl? Depressed much? Good thing your Daddy is working hard to pump out a multitude of shiny new pills each year. I saw the saddest thing on TV a few days ago.
More drugs for people on drugs. That's right. NatureMade has come out with a new line of products called RX Essentials. Their product line ranges in everything from Arthritis, to Heartburn, to - that's right - depression. It's simple really - some of those perscription drugs you're on right now, remove natural vitamins and nutrients from your body. WHAT?!
Therefore...you need this:
http://www.naturemade.com/ProductDatabase/prd_prod.asp?tab=Products§ion=2&productid=200
Ahhhk what's with all my venting lately?
I've become sublimely aware.
Sometimes I feel like I'm on an extended vaca in NY. Oh I'll be going back eventually. No. When people up here ask me (and almost everyday someone does) "do you like it here" and "will you ever go back"? I tell them in the most exasperated tone that I simply love it and that the only other places I would consider moving beyond New York would be San Fran, San Diego, or Europe. Everyday is such a plethora of experiences and explosion of sensory pleasures, that anything less would surely result in death by boredom.
My roommate, Gabor had his family (father, mother, brother, brother's girlfriend) visiting NY these past couple weeks for the holidays. They're from Hungary. Well, Camilla the girlfriend is from Poland. His mom doesn't speak English. So that was interesting enough to have to have everything translated. His brother and his brother's gf don't know eachother's first language so they oddly enough speak their second language (English) to eachother only. It was Camilla's first time in the States. She really liked it. As we were sitting in our living room watching MTV's super stupid "Super Sweet Sixteen" - Camilla tells me these shows are blasted across Europe and that she (along with everyone else) is under the impression that THIS is what American teens are like. She was completely surprised when she actually got here and found out that wasn't the case. She asked me if I had a Sweet 16 party like the ones on this show. I laughed out loud and told her no. I was in shock. No wonder so many people despise us. We are the superpower here and hold an immense responsibility in this world. Why is everyone so disillusioned? Sad to say, the media is responsible for the majority of this misrepresentation.
But you have to ask yourself...how far off is the media from the truth? We have deserted our once industrial society and traded it for a consuming one. A society dependent on services. It's all about us. What can you do to make my life more comfortable, flamboyant, sexy, fun? Work ethic out the window - let's depend on our rich Daddy's who work in the Pharma companies to throw us parties worthy of MTV. But oh, there's no real-life reward in that - is there, little girl? Depressed much? Good thing your Daddy is working hard to pump out a multitude of shiny new pills each year. I saw the saddest thing on TV a few days ago.
More drugs for people on drugs. That's right. NatureMade has come out with a new line of products called RX Essentials. Their product line ranges in everything from Arthritis, to Heartburn, to - that's right - depression. It's simple really - some of those perscription drugs you're on right now, remove natural vitamins and nutrients from your body. WHAT?!
Therefore...you need this:
http://www.naturemade.com/ProductDatabase/prd_prod.asp?tab=Products§ion=2&productid=200
Ahhhk what's with all my venting lately?
I've become sublimely aware.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Heeey! You suck, let's date!
I've recently discovered that I only attract psychopaths and gay men!!! Let's get this out on the table first, I am not complaining about the gay men part. For the most part, I get along with everyone and some of my close friends happen to be gay. But after a year or two of being single, you have ask yourself, "Do I look like a drag queen?". . .
And then there's the crazies. The straight men:
I mean do I SCREAM, "HEY ALL YOU CRAZY WEIRDOS WITH THE QUIRKY TENDENCIES THAT DRIVE ME CRAZY, YOU WANNA ASK ME OUT? OH YOU DO? PERFECT! IT'S EVEN BETTER THAT WE MET IN A SKETCHY CLUB WHERE MY BLOND HAIR AND PAINFUL WHITE-GIRL DANCING GOT YOUR ATTENTION. DINNER YOU SAY? OH GREAT. LET'S GET HALFWAY THROUGH THE APPETIZER BEFORE I REALIZE HOW INCOMPATIBLE WE REALLY ARE AND HAVE TO GULP DOWN A FEW MARTINIS TO GET THROUGH THE REST OF THE EVENING - AT WHICH POINT, I WILL NOT CALL YOU AGAIN SO PLEASE DON'T GET WASTED ON THE WEEKENDS AND DRUNK DIAL ME A MILLION TIMES."
*After this blog, I'm sure that I won't have anymore bad dates to complain about - as I probably won't be asked out on any*
Ahhhhhhkkkkk...but you know what? This is dating. I mean this is it. True Life: I'm 23 years old, single, and dating frogs. I'm running out of steam here and I'm only 6 months into dating here in NYC and I feel like I've seen it all. Two financial consultants, a few Europeans, toss in a couple models and actors (come on, it's NY), and a even a "my new haircut" or so...and still nothing substantial. Poor Carrie - I feel her pain.
And then I look at my friends who are in serious relationships. What a joke. Half of them aren't even really happy. So I have to ask myself? What am I REALLY trying to accomplish here? Am I hopelessly scouring the streets, bars, ice skating rinks (yes I've met one there too) for a McDreamy who doesn't exist - just to get STUCK in one of those dead relationships my so-called "happy" friends are in?
Sighs....okay I think I'm done now. My post-work-out energy is finally fading. I should really stop watching WE's "Platinum Weddings". . . stupid crap.
And then there's the crazies. The straight men:
I mean do I SCREAM, "HEY ALL YOU CRAZY WEIRDOS WITH THE QUIRKY TENDENCIES THAT DRIVE ME CRAZY, YOU WANNA ASK ME OUT? OH YOU DO? PERFECT! IT'S EVEN BETTER THAT WE MET IN A SKETCHY CLUB WHERE MY BLOND HAIR AND PAINFUL WHITE-GIRL DANCING GOT YOUR ATTENTION. DINNER YOU SAY? OH GREAT. LET'S GET HALFWAY THROUGH THE APPETIZER BEFORE I REALIZE HOW INCOMPATIBLE WE REALLY ARE AND HAVE TO GULP DOWN A FEW MARTINIS TO GET THROUGH THE REST OF THE EVENING - AT WHICH POINT, I WILL NOT CALL YOU AGAIN SO PLEASE DON'T GET WASTED ON THE WEEKENDS AND DRUNK DIAL ME A MILLION TIMES."
*After this blog, I'm sure that I won't have anymore bad dates to complain about - as I probably won't be asked out on any*
Ahhhhhhkkkkk...but you know what? This is dating. I mean this is it. True Life: I'm 23 years old, single, and dating frogs. I'm running out of steam here and I'm only 6 months into dating here in NYC and I feel like I've seen it all. Two financial consultants, a few Europeans, toss in a couple models and actors (come on, it's NY), and a even a "my new haircut" or so...and still nothing substantial. Poor Carrie - I feel her pain.
And then I look at my friends who are in serious relationships. What a joke. Half of them aren't even really happy. So I have to ask myself? What am I REALLY trying to accomplish here? Am I hopelessly scouring the streets, bars, ice skating rinks (yes I've met one there too) for a McDreamy who doesn't exist - just to get STUCK in one of those dead relationships my so-called "happy" friends are in?
Sighs....okay I think I'm done now. My post-work-out energy is finally fading. I should really stop watching WE's "Platinum Weddings". . . stupid crap.
Annnnnd we're off
O-eight is here and my New Year's resolution is to start eating eggs and find a man. Claudia (my roomie) and I spent 1/1 sleeping in with the most accomodating overcast weather outside. We made it as far as the LIC diner to drink black coffee and tall OJ with granola/yogurt and - of course - egg white omlettes. I miss my grits, but I feel much healthier with this breakfast spread.
I missed my flight back to SC - it was the shuttle bus' fault, not my own. After being put on a connecting flight to Charlottesville (I'm still not even sure what state that is), I made it to Charlotte much later than anticipated. My entire family met up in Charleston at my Mema's house on Christmas Day. Mom threw an amazing dinner party the next night with Grand Marnier/Champagne punch and we all sang Karaoke until we decided to meet up with Mikail and Callie in Aiken. The Holly House. My friend from high school, Colin went with us. The next few days were a blur of hibernation, Planet Earth (my Dad's Christmas gift and one of my favorites), and Christmas leftovers.
My flight home was an all-day affair. Awake at 7 - pack - Madelaine drove me to Charlotte (2 hours) and my flight was delayed an hour. Wait wait wait. Finally on board - cat naps - landed - dragged huge luggage to the shuttle bus from the airport to the subway. At that point, our shuttle bus got hit by a car - and the car "ran". UGHHHH. We waited on another bus to arrive (way overcrowded) and we get to the subway. 7 train is having repairs on the Manhattan-bound side. It took me 3 hours to get home - at which point I made myself a vodka/Dr. Pepper (all I could find in the apt) and sat on my roofeck, staring at the skyline. Fast asleep at 8:30PM.
New Years Eve was spent at Lotus. My friend Val was throwing 12 NYE parties around the city - and he was beyond stressed. He gave Claudia and I tickets to the Lotus and Maritime Hotel parties. Wild wild wild.
The holidays are hectic - I'm sort of glad to be back in the swing of things...I miss my family though - xo
I missed my flight back to SC - it was the shuttle bus' fault, not my own. After being put on a connecting flight to Charlottesville (I'm still not even sure what state that is), I made it to Charlotte much later than anticipated. My entire family met up in Charleston at my Mema's house on Christmas Day. Mom threw an amazing dinner party the next night with Grand Marnier/Champagne punch and we all sang Karaoke until we decided to meet up with Mikail and Callie in Aiken. The Holly House. My friend from high school, Colin went with us. The next few days were a blur of hibernation, Planet Earth (my Dad's Christmas gift and one of my favorites), and Christmas leftovers.
My flight home was an all-day affair. Awake at 7 - pack - Madelaine drove me to Charlotte (2 hours) and my flight was delayed an hour. Wait wait wait. Finally on board - cat naps - landed - dragged huge luggage to the shuttle bus from the airport to the subway. At that point, our shuttle bus got hit by a car - and the car "ran". UGHHHH. We waited on another bus to arrive (way overcrowded) and we get to the subway. 7 train is having repairs on the Manhattan-bound side. It took me 3 hours to get home - at which point I made myself a vodka/Dr. Pepper (all I could find in the apt) and sat on my roofeck, staring at the skyline. Fast asleep at 8:30PM.
New Years Eve was spent at Lotus. My friend Val was throwing 12 NYE parties around the city - and he was beyond stressed. He gave Claudia and I tickets to the Lotus and Maritime Hotel parties. Wild wild wild.
The holidays are hectic - I'm sort of glad to be back in the swing of things...I miss my family though - xo
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
