On Delay, On Delay

I made it home in one piece last week for the Christmas festivities. Airport waiting areas, irritable flight attendants and chatty pilots aside- all was merry and bright.

To coronate our first Christmas in our new house, my parents decided to facilitate as many people as possible during the four and a half days I was home. We hosted a dinner party for 22 on Sunday, everyone was assigned to work on a dish and then everyone ate family-style. Things were getting crowded in the kitchen, so my friend RW and I headed outside to my dad’s outdoor kitchen to create our chicken enchiladas. It was a whopping 37 degrees outside, and my brother and his friend were in charge of the margarita machine (which was also outdoors), so we all stole North Face fleeces from my dad’s closet and got to work.

Ten hours later, my brother and dad were manning the stove indoors, serving up made to order omelets country club style for my dad’s side of the family. The two of them have made eggs an art form. I never used to eat them before I tried the ones they made. They’d convert the pickiest of eaters.

Among the omelet eaters was my cousin and his wife’s youngest son JH, who is four-years-old. He wasn’t so much into the gourmet eggs as the gumball machine he found upstairs. Being the one who showed him how to use it, I was responsible for him when he came bounding down the stairs- herringbone pants, black blazer (with matching tie) and all, chomping his rainbow assortment of gum.

My bad.

The night of Christmas Eve was spent, as usual, at my aunt and uncle’s house in Plano, Texas, eating Mexican food and relaxing. I was, however, introduced to a fun new little game called Rock Band, which was up and running in my cousin KH’s room after dinner. Rock Band includes a guitar, a microphone, and best of all- drums. My attempts were quite dismal- even on level Easy. I was like the mom who is trying to be hip with her kids who are way more technologically advanced. A few months out of college and I’m totally out of the loop. I also have no rhythm, which contributes to my lack of skills necessary for Rock Band success.

Christmas Day itself was great- my family always goes to movies in the afternoon on Christmas, and this year we elected to see “National Treasure: Book of Secrets”. It was good- as sequels go, definitely good. Leonardo di Caprio is our usual go-to Christmas day Blockbuster poster child- Titanic, Catch Me If You Can, Gangs of New York.

A funny revelation I had over the weekend was the overlapping of my brother’s and my Christmas gifts this year.

The DVD of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix? Check.
Dressy patent leather shoes? (His were to go with his tux, for the record). Check.

Like brother, like sister. Or something like that. I wish I was also going on the ski trip he’s getting, but some of us have to WORK.

Our good friend CC is on her way to the city for a long weekend right now. Her flight was artificially delayed (she was told it was late, only to arrive at the airport to find it leaving without her) so we’re hoping she gets here in one piece. I’m sure that would be comforting for her to hear about now… after midnight, stuck at the airport in New Jersey.

We all had half-days at work today, so we got to play all afternoon. We met up at Rockefeller Center, which was a poor choice considering the influx of people that have already arrived in the city for New Year’s Eve. AV compared us to prisoners who get out of jail, and then don’t know what to do with themselves, and end up back in the slammer.

Lucky for us, after our busy day we got to come home to fresh groceries and High School Musical I & II on T.V. My first experience with HSM I was actually at CC’s house in College Station, where she lived with four other girls. My roommate MH and I had been over to watch Grey’s Anatomy and eat Pei Wei with our friend DM, and after the show the topic of HSM came up.

Neither of us had ever seen it- so in a fury of DVD cases and remotes and a few pillows, we were set for the night. Confused, MH and I sat in wonder at the fact that any time a musical number came on, all five girls would simultaneously appear to dance and sing along, and then subsequently disappear when the plot would pick up again.

I also can’t say we were that surprised.

"Family faces are magic mirrors. Looking at people who belong to us, we see the past, present and future."
–Gail Buckley

Blame It On The Day Job

I self-conciously made my way down the stairs of our walk-up this morning and out into the bustle, only to find that I was not the only one wheeling their Christmas luggage to work for the day. I briefly weighed the pros and cons of trying to get on the subway (for one stop) and after having a flashback of AV stuck in a subway turnstile with a suitcase, I chose to walk.

I was grateful for the 35 degree morning as I was managing my load- second guessing my choice to walk, but glad to not be dealing with stairs and commuters. I'm also choosing not to think of what a madhouse Penn Station is going to be at 5 PM today.

One of the great things about going home to Texas is that my parents are always there to pick me up in a CAR. I don't have to worry about cab prices, getting in late at night, absent shuttle drivers or any of the other things that could possibly go wrong once getting into the city.

KR and AV both took flights out last night to go home, leaving me at home to my own devices. My devices included, but were not limited to: baked Doritos, leftover Christmas cookies from a few days ago, college basketball and a new-found guilty-pleasure show.

AV called me from La Guardia to tell me that Chace-Something from "Gossip Girl" was on her flight. Two girls had just asked to take a picture with him, and so I looked him up on IMDB (the perfect website to access when you can't remember what other movie or show someone was in).

Some of our friends at work (did I mention KR and I work together now, by the way?) have talked about the show, and intrigued after AV's phone call, I ended up watching three episodes online. They weren't sequential, but I'm good at using context clues and so I picked up on the story line. Nevermind the fact that I had not started to pack.

After spending the week eating Christmas cookies, hors d'oeurves, cocktails and Diet Dr Pepper- mostly at work-related events, I'm ready to commit to some kind of New Year-New You philosophy. The day my gym-benefit kicks in, I'm joining the one in my building.

If I see one more piece of sugar covered in buttery sugar, I might vomit... or I might eat it, it could really go either way at this point.


Lucy: Beethoven's birthday is December 16th Shermy! Have you decided what you're going to get me?
Shermy: Yes! I'm not going to get you anything!
Lucy: What kind of a holiday is it where you don't give girls presents?
-Charles Schultz, Peanuts

The Bareilles Incident

About a month ago I woke up in the middle of the night to hear “Love Song” by Sara Bareilles blaring from the iPod speakers in our kitchen/living area. Startled, I gingerly arose from my slumber to assess the situation. AV and KR’s room is at the very end of our apartment, right next to mine, but they were sound asleep. I walked down the hall to peer into the cove-like area, and saw AV’s iPod aglow, and upon closer inspection I found that it was, in fact, on and playing.

I told the girls about it the next day, and asked them if they had honestly heard nothing at 3AM, and they had not. AV’s iPod had acted up occasionally, and I thought that one of us might have accidentally hit the alarm button or something.

It was written off as an isolated incident until the night before last, when I awoke yet again to the same song. I was kind of singing to it when I woke up again, which was funny, and I thought I might be dreaming… but it’s when you think you’re dreaming that you realize you’re awake. And I was, again. I even pinched my arm to make sure. Again, I checked on the girls and they were snoozing away, and again I found AV’s iPod on and blaring.

I almost forgot about it happening until we were in a store in SoHo yesterday and I heard a song that reminded me of the repeat offense. I relayed my bizarre 3AM finding to the girls, and AV’s eyes got really big and she told me that she had turned her iPod on after KR and I had left early, and thought it was strange that her play list would start in the middle of a song when she had just turned it on. I was like “THANK YOU- I THOUGHT I WAS GOING INSANE.”

New rule: AV’s iPod is not to be left charging on the speakers after dark.

My only conclusion is that there is a tiny devil that lives behind our stove and likes possessing our appliances by night. Our microwave, (which, granted, was the smallest and cheapest Target had to offer)- now makes a whirring noise anytime it is plugged in and not in use. Our coffee maker randomly started pouring our water instead of brewing coffee one morning this week. Our gas oven will never start the first time, and forces you to peer your head inside it to make sure the blue gas light at the bottom comes on while you turn the knob. THAT can’t be safe.

Our Christmas tree is looking more and more reminiscent of Charlie Brown’s everyday. We are constantly dust-busting the needles that fall off of it, and our little vacuum now sounds like a maraca.

This whole planned-obsolescence thing is getting way out of hand.

“I’m not gonna write you a love song
‘Cause you tell me it’s
Make or breaking this,
If you’re on your way
I’m not gonna write you to stay…”

- Sara Bareilles, “Love Song”

Pigs Flew

Somehow I completely missed 'Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix' coming out on DVD today. How could I miss this?

I’ll tell you how: I have a job! It finally happened. It’s my turn to join the rigors of the working world: the whirlwind nine to five, the first-initial-last-name-@-company-dot-com e-mail circuit, the general hopelessness and hopefulness that comes with overall inexperience with real world work. It’s awesome- I love it.

What makes everything so much easier is my new friend MC. She is the assistant I replaced and she was promoted to a position within the same office, which means she is literally an e-mail, an IM, an inter-office phone call or a carrier pigeon away. One of these days she’ll get a Blackberry and I will have texting, calling and Blackberry Messenger capabilities with her. She might cut me off one day, and I wouldn’t blame her. She went to Auburn, and we have mutual friends, so it might not be as easy as one would think.

So I’m now getting acclimated to my new schedule. The real kicker is the commute-

11 blocks. 11 whole blocks.

I know- brutal, huh? I literally walk to work and it takes less than 10 minutes. Who needs a car when you have your own two feet? That’s what I always say. Unless you have a car… then by all means, drive.

KR’s mom and grandmother were in town for her uncle’s birthday on Saturday. I spent the day browsing and buying for my family for Christmas. I roamed around Columbus Circle and then made my way over to the East side. I went into Crate & Barrel to browse their selection of holiday décor, like all of the other 40-year-old moms in the city, and I stopped by Bloomingdale’s for the hot chocolate.

AV slept in my room on her air mattress, held over from our Murray Hill days of long ago, which meant we got to have a sleepover all weekend. It started feeling little a youth group weekend, specifically Disciple Now-ish. There were lots of people in a confined space, hand-held games and parents involved. When Mrs. R told us “lights out”, we almost died laughing.

Mrs. R also bought us a bathroom shelf from Bed Bath & Beyond, which included assembly. AV and I took a whack at it, literally, Sunday morning when the R’s left to see Mary Poppins. It was definitely a little rickety, and when all was said and done we did not use all the screws or poles, but we also didn’t have to use a high heel as a hammer. It’s also still standing, which has to count for something.

It’s a work night, so it’s time for bed. I talked to my brother earlier who was studying for finals, and while I sympathize, I can’t feel that sorry for someone who gets a month off after a few days of exams.

“Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you’ve imagined.”
-Thoreau

23 Years Of KR

Yesterday was KR’s 23rd birthday. 23. We met when we were 14. Which was almost a decade ago. You start feeling old when you can talk about time in terms of decades.

Looking back on nearly a decade of memories, a few specific moments come foremost than others to my mind. KR’s family moved to the Texas town I grew up in right before we started high school. She was introduced to MK at church by our youth pastor, and it wasn’t soon before we crossed paths. She was trying out for the tennis team, and since all of my BFF4L’s were doing the same, we quickly became interested in the new girl.

I spent many a Friday afternoon watching KR and my other friends play tennis that year, because obviously my social life could not start until they were finished with their matches. We even had a name for ourselves, which was the Fabulous Friday Night Five, which was shortened to the Fab Five, for all practical purposes. We shared our first traumatic high school formal experience with each other- mine being an unfortunate 80’s number that involved silver sequins and tulle, hers being the fact that her mother made her wear panty hose with open-toed shoes.

A year after that, she moved to the Austin area. A few girls and I surprised her over our fall break by going down to see her in her new home for a few days. It was a Sunday morning, her family was in church, and her mother came outside to help us orchestrate our surprise. She handed over her car keys to four 15-year-olds, leaving us to elect a driver amongst ourselves, with the exception of MK. MK was not allowed in the driver’s seat, due to being the newest to driving and the most ambitious.

I will never forget the scene of the church ladies and gentlemen leaving the morning services, only to see a red car going 3mph (I was the driver-elect) coast through the parking lot, blaring some teeny-bopper song with girls hanging out the windows and sunroof. I don’t know who was more surprised- KR upon seeing us, or me upon realizing that no one had been hurt and Mrs. R’s car was still intact after my parking lot driving experience.

Junior year of college KR transferred to A&M, and we found ourselves in the same city once again. Senior year we lived in houses less than a block away from each other, and got to spend many a game-day Saturday. The May and June of 2006 will forever be chronicled away in our minds as “The Lost Months”, which we spent taking a summer course in finance and studying/going insane in the far recesses of the business school. After graduating college I called her often and we talked wistfully of New York and how great it would be and how much we both just wanted to give it a try.

When I think of KR, I recall the time we begged her sister to drive us to Spaghetti Warehouse in her parents’ convertible ‘Stang (only to arrive at the restaurant with hair tangled beyond recognition).

I look back at an unforgettably hot summer spent working with her in Austin, and calling her father when her parents were gone one weekend to ask for detailed instructions on using his propane grill for the first time so that we could make burgers. I think he assumed we would either blow up his house or give up all together. Thankfully, we did neither.

I remember KR bringing over a package of just-add-water angel food cake mix to my house in college, only to watch the cake balloon up in the oven and realize that she had, in fact, added too much water.

I have fond memories of spring break trips spent together in Destin, and in New York.

I will never see anything leopard print and not think of her.

So, to a dear friend on her 23rd birthday, I offer my thanks. Thanks to you, the friend who introduced me to such movies as “Shag”, “Beaches” and “Anchorman”, who has a gift for making anyone feel comfortable and welcome, lover of all things involving bread and cheese, my fellow Will-Ferrell-movie-quoter and whose friendship has meant so many different things to me throughout the years. I would not trade this experience with you and AV or our friendship for anything in the world.

Know that you are so loved by so many.

We’re living the dream, kid.

"There are people whom one loves immediately and forever. Even to know they are alive in the world with one is quite enough."
-Nancy Spain

"...My cup runneth over."
-Psalm 23:5b

Sight For Sore Eyes

I've had some trouble posting pictures recently, but here are a few shots from the past two weeks. Enjoy.



Figure I: Autumn on the West Side...
Figure II: ... and the East Side
Figure III: Texas sunrise at 40 mph

"I like spring, but it is too young. I like summer, but it is too proud. So I like best of all autumn, becuase its tone is mellower, its colours are richer, and it is tinged with a little sorrow. Its golden richness speaks not of the innocence of spring, nor the power of summer, but of the mellowness and kindly wisdom of approaching age. It knows the limitations of life and its content."
- Lin Yutang

Oh Give Thanks

It is Sunday night in Dallas and I find myself delayed once again. I don’t mind so much, but I offer my condolences to all of the parents of small children who are running around the terminal in their PJ’s. It looks like bedtime won’t be anytime soon for them.

I was putting off my update until I returned to New York, but now all I can do is hurry up and wait. I arrived at the airport a premature two hours early, anticipating Six-Flags-worthy check in and security lines. Instead I found that there was no wait at the self-check-in station, I got to set up a frequent flyer miles account with the airline, and I made it through security with the only trouble being a women who didn’t speak English in front of me who was trying to put her new puppy through the baggage X-Ray.

I asked my parents to stay and make sure I made it through security with my plastic bag of liquids. I bought new moisturizer at Barney’s this past week and there was NO WAY I was going to let homegirl with a police badge confiscate it. Luckily, it did not come to that, and my moisturizer, lip-gloss and Rosebud Salve were safe.

That took all of 12 minutes.

So, reflecting on my week at home, I’d have to say it was cathartic. I got to hang out with my family, and enjoy the new house with my parents. Every time I wanted to go anywhere, I got in a car. I got to cook in my mom’s huge kitchen, and watch the Cowboys, the Mavericks, the Aggies and the Longhorns to my heart’s content with my dad in HD (nevermind that I could have been watching A&M play basketball in person at Madison Square Garden twice last week in New York…story of my life). Someone came over to our house and asked why I would ever want to live in a tiny apartment in New York when I have such a great set-up at home. Sometimes I wonder the same thing myself.

One particularly strange moment was Wednesday night when my brother and I were both separately making plans with friends, and both ended up hanging out at the same bar. I saw my brother across the room, sipping a beer and laughing with his friends, and I suddenly felt old. L and I were born only 20 months apart, and he may be six feet tall and have my dad’s deep voice, but he’s still my little brother. Needless to say, I felt every day of my 22 years and change.

We are all safely back in New York now, and I now return knowing that I have so much to be thankful for:

1. My family… cliché but true. For many reasons they know, and many they don’t. They mean the world to me and are consistent examples of faith and trust and Godliness.
2. My friends… cliché x 2. I have the best friends anyone could ever ask for. Some of them I’ve known for 15 years, and some were gathered through high school and college and somehow we have struck the perfect blend of personalities and dynamics and awesomeness.
3. George Clooney.
4. Christmas in New York…December belongs here, period. Everyone should visit the city at Christmas. The city comes alive and everyday sees more lights and trees and love.
5. Fifth and finally- I’m so thankful I’m not from New Jersey. It’s the Oklahoma of the North.

My hat’s off to my Texas Aggies for the 38-30 win over UT last Friday. It made my week. As did the Cowboys’ Thanksgiving Day win over the Jets and both of the Aggie basketball wins.

I love to win.

"Look at her standing there with those yams. My two worst enemies, Ross: Rachel Green and complex carbohydrates."
-Will, as played by Brad Pitt, on "Friends"

Sunday Best

We just spent the whole morning talking about what needed to be accomplished today. We are nothing if not efficient.

So AV and KR went out midday to get their laundry done, which is always met with moaning and procrastination. I, on the other hand, opted to stay home since I get to return home to Texas tomorrow and will proceed to do my laundry at home. That’s right, unemployment has its’ benefits too. Chief among them being in-house laundry privileges.

As it turns out, I was not offered the job I wanted. I found out Thursday, which actually came at a good time because now I can go home for a full week to see my family for Thanksgiving. I need to recharge my batteries and be around my dog and see a sunset.

I’m going to start doing temporary work when I get back to New York while I continue looking for a permanent job. It’s really the best option for me right now, and since it’s now the time of year that’s paradoxically busy AND slow, I feel that this will be a good ‘meantime’ activity. If I find a full-time job in the process, then all the better.

Luckily the bad news was received on Thursday afternoon, and Thursday is the best night of the week in our apartment. It’s the best because it’s the best T.V. night of the week, if you didn’t already know. We always put on comfortable clothing, preferably something with an elastic waist, and we get pizza and return home to watch The Office, Grey’s Anatomy, sometimes Big Shots (the show is lame but Michael Vartan is in it) and whatever else we feel like watching. It’s the perfect combination of awesomeness.

My friend AR, who knows everything about everything, sadly informed me that because of the writers’ strike continuing, that Thursday was the last new episode of The Office that was finished. Now that is a tragedy indeed. What will we do without the crew at Dunder Mifflin to entertain us? Thank goodness Thanksgiving is this Thursday- I’ll be surrounded by family, friends and food to soften the blow. And the Dallas Cowboys, of course.

Friday was a big day for the KR and AV because they were both debuting their new boots. I was never interested in leggings or skinny jeans until I moved here and became interested in boots. Now they are not only appealing, but also absolutely necessary.

KR found out last week that you can go to a salon in Tribeca to get your haircut for $20 by someone in hair school, and so she rushed over with a file folder of cute haircuts Friday after work to get her hair trimmed and tailored. AV and I met up and walked around for about an hour until AV’s feet were about to fall off from teetering around in her boots all day. We were sufficiently hungry and tired, so we decided to make our way up to Hill Country Barbeque for the evening.

Two hours after leaving KR at the salon, and an hour after we had been waiting, it became clear that she would not be making it to dinner because of the hair situation she was stuck in. I squeezed my way up to the hostess stand wedged next to the bar to readjust the number in our party, and got caught in the middle of the frenzy that was started by a bartender ringing a cowbell and announcing free shots for everyone. Someone with THREE of the free shots shoved one in my hand, said “bottoms up” and I heard “one, two, three YEEHAW”.

Ten minutes later, after scooting myself back to AV and getting resituated, she said she wished she had gotten a shot because then her feet would be hurting less.

I said: “You didn’t get one?”
And she said: “You DID?! Are you telling me you just took a shot over there by yourself?”

I did. And you know what? My feet didn’t hurt one bit. We returned home to find out that KR had spent three hours in the hands of an inexperienced student, and emerged scarred with bangs. She refers to them now as “fringe”. She bought prenatal vitamins and bobby pins to hide them while they grow out. I told her that at least she doesn’t have my hairline, because if I had to pin back bangs, I would be forced to expose my Widow’s Peak and would look more like Dracula than myself. I don’t know if it was any consolation at all, come to think of it.

Yesterday morning we were in desperate need of physical activity, so we ventured over to Central Park to exercise AND get a tour of the fall foliage. Two birds, one stone… it seemed like a good idea at the time. None of us wanted to carry purses and so I had my camera in one pocket of my fleece, my phone in the other, and my Metro and debit cards in the pocket of my shorts.

Trying to get on a bus on the East side, I realized that the aforementioned cards were MIA. In Central Park. Somewhere in the foliage. Awesome.

This morning KR tried to use her debit card and after being put on hold five times with five different people at her bank, was finally told that she had exceeded her transaction limit. Who has ever heard of such a thing? Not me, not AV and definitely not KR. Oh the debit drama.

All that to say that we just got home from church, and I really need to pack.

I’ll be home this time tomorrow!

"Failure is the opportunity to begin again more intelligently."

-Henry Ford

Bend And Snap

I’m a slacker. I’m suffering from an affliction; it’s called Unemployed Writer’s Block. It’s rough, I tell you.

A selfish reason why I wanted to write this blog was just to keep up the practice of writing in general. I met a really intriguing woman in June who has been very successful and has an amazing job, and we spent a few hours talking one morning about her experiences and about my interests. She asked me some things I enjoy doing, and one of the things I mentioned was writing. I said that I would love to be a writer one day; to work freelance or for a publication or maybe be an author…one day.

She told me that if I enjoyed writing so much, that I should do it now, and never to let a professional title dictate what I can and cannot do with my free time. It sounds simple enough, doesn’t it? I don’t want to sit down at a desk ten years from now and have nothing to say.

So hear I am, saying things to you.

We had a great long weekend with our visitors. We got to see Legally Blonde from the second row (for $26.50 per ticket, thank you very much. I’m keeping my student ID as long as I can still pass for my 18–year-old self in the picture). We got to see all of the facial expressions and eyes watering and tiny mistakes that go unnoticed by the suckers in the mezzanine who paid way more than we did to see the show. They can afford it; they have jobs.

There were two theatre students in front of us who had each seen the show four times already. FOUR. And they were giving US a hard time after they figured out that they were sitting with a bunch of sorority girls from Texas. As if the Legally Blonde musical is any indication of a typical sorority experience. It didn’t help that our cause that we ran into a younger girl from our sorority after the show who was in town visiting with her family. Stereotypes sneak up on you when you least expect them.

Saturday we woke up leisurely and went to eat at our favorite brunch place in Murray Hill called Penelope. Have I mentioned it yet? The Penelope people consider brunch to be an art form, and we consider it to be delicious. We then made our way over to Herald Square to browse around and shop, and made the hideous mistake of entering Macy’s.

The flagship store.

On a Saturday that also happened to be a holiday weekend.

Did I mention that there are three Starbucks inside this one store?

I camped out with AG in the Bandolino section while AV and KR searched for their perfect fall boots. I wasn’t even going to try- it was madness. Like Century 21 madness, just more civilized. They both made purchases, which somehow validated the time we spent there.

Saturday night we went to a restaurant called Cleopatra’s Needle for live jazz and Italian food. The place had great ambiance, and the saxophone player flirted with us and even dedicated a song to our table. It was a nice try. We made our way over to Rockefeller Center to see the tree and watch the ice skaters. And by “watch the ice skaters” I mean we watched them fall. Sunday the weather in the city was beautiful, and we spent as much time as we could outdoors. AG spotted some celebrities, and KR found her REAL pair of perfect boots, at the Steven by Steve Madden store. Steve himself even made an appearance at his store for the occasion.

I sent AG and LB to Century 21 without me on Monday morning. I did laundry instead, because I prefer sitting in a hot underground room with a book to Century 21. They did well and did not get lost at ALL.

I’m so proud.

"Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life. Well, not small, but valuable. And sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven't been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around? I don't really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So good night, dear void."

-Kathleen Kelly, "You've Got Mail"

Commensurate With Experience

This week has not been the greatest for any of us. It’s actually been rather awful (with glimmers of hope- albeit), to be perfectly honest.

It’s been the worst for AV. Her precious grandmother, Dot, passed away on Sunday back in Texas. AV maintains that her grandmother was her biggest supporter in her decision to move to New York, and would not hear of her doing anything other than exactly what she wanted to be doing. You know how there are things about people that precede them? Even before Dot fell ill unexpectedly a little over a month ago, I knew how wonderful she must be because of how loved by AV’s whole family she was. I may have never met her, but I know that she was vivacious and fun, that she was notorious for her great style and that she loved living independently. She will be missed.

AV also resigned from her current job on Monday, and will be starting a new one next week with THE company she would have hand chosen to work for in New York, even years ago. She had to get through the initial blow of telling her boss she was leaving, which she was dreading all weekend, but it had to be done. It was practice in confrontation, and who actually enjoys that? I harassed her all weekend for having two jobs, while I’m still hanging out with my big goose egg.

My friend MJ came to the city for PowerPoint training the past few days. MJ was my roommate during my study abroad program last summer- we shared many a World War II battle site adventure together: trenches, beaches, bunkers. You name it- we saw it. Basically, I introduced her to Nutella, and we became friends.

The company she works for in Houston literally incurred all expenses to send her to New York for two days. Beyond animation and bullet points, what’s there to know? “Oh plenty” said MJ, after spending an entire day with a woman who went through every possible PowerPoint scenario that no one ever wanted to know.

We met up and went to see Hairspray Wednesday night, and enjoyed every minute we spent in our third row orchestra seats. The show was amazing, but musicals really make me wish I could sing well. The woman who played Motormouth Maybelle brought down the house with her song “I Know Where I’ve Been”. Her voice literally gave me chills. I love singers who can do that- it’s the same with people who have really piercing eyes, something about them just reaches your soul. Does anyone know what I’m talking about? Good.

To update you on my job status, I’ll admit to the cyber world that I turned down a job today. It was with a company I had thought I wanted to work for, for a long time. When I got asked to interview for a job with them, I was ecstatic. Maybe my expectations were too high, maybe it just was not a great fit. Regardless, I ultimately said no. Something about it just did not feel right. I’m a big believer in intuition, and I try to pay attention to my own when it’s nagging at me.

Fortunately for me, my parents have been supportive of my decision. That’s been one of the only reassuring aspects of this whole process. I am working with some other options, and hopefully something will come of one of those.

Luckily my friends AG and LB came into town last night, and they have been making me laugh since the minute they got here. They have been taking my mind off of everything with their antics. The three of us went to find inexpensive show tickets this morning, and started out early. They wanted to see the Today Show, and when I reached Rockefeller Center I called to see where they were. They had already taken pictures of Al Roker and the massive Christmas tree that was delivered there this morning, and had moved onto the American Girl Place. Why didn’t I think of that?

We had an adventure looking for tickets- AG serenaded everyone outside of The Little Mermaid, which was just LB, myself and the technical crew who were just trying to eat breakfast. The shows for this weekend were sold out, and we went to check out Wicked. That was also a no-go, as well as a close call buying tickets for the wrong show altogether. After strike two, we made our way over to the Legally Blonde theatre (called Illegally Blonde half of the day by AG), and finally lucked out. We also got to meet some enthusiastic theater students who had rushed over to get tickets for tonight. They had seen it four times. That’s right, four.

We ate lunch at Peanut Butter Company in Greenwich Village today, and in lieu of lunch, I only have two words for you: toasted Fluffernutter. If I know anything- it’s peanut butter. Trust me on this one.

Did I mention it was a guy who told me that? He said you haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen frat boys dancing and singing on stage. I don’t know how I feel about that.

We’ll see in a few hours, I suppose.

"People talk about being successful or not being successful, but the concept of success is very ambiguous. There is no need to pursue other people's ideas of success."

-Ichiro

Falling Back

Figure I: THE New York Marathon
Figure II: "They look like rats with wings"
Figure III: Baby it's cold inside

It’s finally starting to look like a place we can call home around here.

Friday night we enjoyed a post-work (post-interview for me) nap while waiting for AV to arrive home from her office. It took her an hour and a half to get home on the bus. You’d think we would have learned our lesson with that mode of transportation by now.

We met up with some friends from our Community Group at church at the Hudson Hotel that night for a going-away party. One of the girls that leads our group is moving to London and her sister and roommate planned a fun night out for her before she leaves town. We knew the area, but walked a few blocks past the hotel initially because it was unmarked outside- no address and no name = posh in New York. You “just have to know” it’s there. I feel sorry for the Postal Service workers.

So we finally found where we needed to be, and took the escalator up to the second floor which had about four different (yet still unmarked) bars on the same floor. We located the Library, and met up with the girls from church to wait for the surprise. It was a little anti-climatic, considering we spotted the guest of honor and friends across the bar half past 10. It was a fun evening, considering we have been spending recent nights grocery shopping and buying curtains.

KR made us some waffles on Saturday morning- since her mother, the professional suitcase packer that she is, somehow managed to fit in a sandwich griller as well as a waffle iron into her bag of tricks. She also mailed us a bag of mini Snickers, which may have been intended for trick-or-treaters, but actually only made it as far as our glass kitchen jars.

We cleaned around our apartment yesterday after yet another trip to Bed Bath & Beyond, where we annoyed our fellow shoppers by testing out all of the hand-held vacuum cleaners on each other. Our place finally looks more put-together, though. We try to touch the coffee table as little as possible, considering it was assembled with a screw driver and the heel of a shoe, and might crumple the second we so much as look at it the wrong way.

I had made plans to meet up with our old friend MD, who got married in January and moved to NYC in February, and so we went to the Irish Rogue Pub to watch the Texas A&M/OU football game with the other Aggies in the city. Having limited cable and Internet access the past month, I almost did not realize how much I’ve missed watching college football. I love college football, but with all of the moving and weddings and being overruled by girls, I usually only catch up with the latest through ESPN.com and Sportscenter. If someone could find a way to market sports to make them a little more female-friendly to watch, they could make a lot of money… just a thought. Maybe it will be me, even though I don’t need much convincing.

We got to watch the 26-mile marker of the New York Marathon this morning, which was truly an inspiration. The day was beautiful and we got to see all of the leaders in the different divisions as they were coming up on the finish. We saw a woman who had to be around the age of 65 finishing in a little over two hours. 26.2 miles. Two-ish hours. She could be my grandmother, almost. You do the math.

Every five minutes or so I would convince myself it would be a good idea to train for one, only to mentally smack my imagination back into place five minutes later. It’s a good thing too, because I have marathon-running friends who would surely harass me about it if they heard.

Heaven forbid I challenge myself physically. And who can think about running when there’s a Snickers waiting for you in the kitchen?

In other news, an e-mail just popped up on my phone telling me that KR, who is currently sitting four feet away, just tagged me in new pictures on Facebook, which I obviously need to peace out to view.

It is also now confirmed that in the wake of Halloween, both my brother and KR’s are now bald. LH had sported a mullet for the big night; TR had bleached his hair to look like Zack Morris, respectively. Sometimes these things happen.

In the words of a pillow I once saw in KR’s mother’s kitchen:

“I’d give up chocolate, but I’m no quitter.”

Rabbit Rabbit

Halloween in New York City.

As if everyday here isn’t filled with enough weirdoes.

Seeing as I was on house arrest yesterday waiting for our fifth (and final) visit from the cable company, I had no idea the lengths that some people would go to around here for Halloween…but then again, I should not have been surprised. I was too distracted by the precious little pumpkins and Hermione Grangers in our neighborhood to notice the scary men in black capes wearing masks from every horror movie I’ve never seen.

We headed down to West 4th in the Village for the Halloween Parade after the girls got home from work last night. My only previous experience with parades was the Homecoming parade that my hometown would host in our downtown square when I was younger. My friend RW and I were even the mascots our junior year (it was cool- I promise) and we rode in the back of a convertible, waving to everyone while in our costumes and inching down Louisiana Street.

Anyways, I did not have the correct mental image of what this was going to be like. I should have known when KR, AV and I stepped off the subway and onto the busy platform only to wait for ten minutes before reaching the surface that I did not know what we were getting ourselves into. We reached the top and the madness ensued. KR’s phone was plastered to her ear as we started weaving through Bleecker Street to attempt to find RM, and AV and I gripped each other for dear life as we continued walking further into the crowds.

We finally found RM, still in his suit and tie from his job training, and we settled into an outdoor patio table at a Mexican restaurant so that we could view the mayhem from a safe distance. There were two conclusions drawn during our dinner:

1. Since Slutty ______ is always a popular choice for Halloween, it would only be fitting that since Jerry Seinfeld’s new Bee Movie just came out that girls would walk around dressed as Slutty Bumblebees. A Slutty Ladybug sidekick, or a cast of Slutty Disney Characters most often accompanied them.
2. An alarming number of men in New York dress up as women on Halloween. I’m talking heels (primarily boots, a few dared to wear pumps), dresses, panty hose, make-up, dresses, purses… the whole nine yards. Except I doubted that any of these guys watch football.

So after watching the spectacle that is Halloween in the Village from the safe haven of our table and my jeans and turtleneck- we ventured out again into the abyss of crazies. We made our way to Magnolia Bakery for cupcakes, since all the other kids were getting candy, and waited in a surprisingly short line for our favorite vanilla cupcakes with vanilla frosting. Magnolia is always an experience, because there is usually a considerable line to wait in (even late at night), there is an army of workers who look like they should be employed at an old record store rather than piping frosting, and there is always what we have affectionately come to know as a “Cupcake Bouncer”. He’s a guy who stands at the door (often in an apron) and keeps the peace among the people in line, and maintains the number of people passing in and out of the bakery. All that’s really missing is a VIP list and a velvet rope. We harassed him for allowing someone to breeze right in before us, and he explained that the guy “knew someone” inside. We should all be so lucky.

Returning back to the subway station with our little white boxes, a girl who was probably drunk asked us why we were holding white boxes. We explained and she looked at us as if it were the strangest thing she had seen all night. People dressed as themselves holding cupcakes- how avant-garde.

We had to wait in line to get back onto the subway, which was alarming. Once we were underground, we realized that half of the staircase was barricaded for the people coming in, and the other for people leaving. When the train would come in, they would get everyone off who wanted that stop, and they would corral them over to one side and let everyone else get on. The train arrived while we were with the rest of the cattle trying to get through the turnstiles, and suddenly it was every man for himself. As if New York isn’t one big game of Survival of the Fittest anyway. Out of the corner of my eye I saw RM and KR fleeing for a subway car three doors down, and AV and I darted into the first open door we could find.

I found an open seat next to a man who kept falling asleep leaning on me between stops, and then would wake up in a panic when the train halted and would frantically ask which stop we had reached.

I went to visit MK in Murray Hill this morning, and helped her prepare for the presentation she had this afternoon… and by “prepare” I mean I CHI-curled her hair and listened to her read through her note cards. I spent most of the day there in my Nike shorts; drinking coffee, reading, writing this thing, using her laundry facilities. I was distracted by the fact that I had purposely worn clothes to exercise in, and I put it off as long as possible, but inevitably pushed the button for the fifth floor and spent 25 miserable minutes on the treadmill.

We got to spend one last night hanging out with MK at her place tonight- doing our usual Thursday night routine of eating Libretto’s pizza and watching The Office. MK’s mom is in town, and we got to hear about her week working in New Jersey. The rest of their family was getting in town tonight as well, so we left and came home just in time to hit Broadway when all of the plays got out and every senior citizen from Central Park West refused to wait for the next bus.

Timing is, after all, everything.

“Ever notice that ‘what the hell’ is always the right decision?”
- Unknown Hollywood scriptwriter

Be Our Guest

Figure I: You know New Yorkers hated seeing this in the middle of Times Square. (That's for you, MH!)
Figure II: RW's first visit to the Big Apple.
Figure III: Come visit! We may not having singing candlesticks, but we can make a mean grilled cheese.

Here I find myself yet again with the RCN cable service man, in our usual three-hour window, waiting to hear the sweet sound of voices coming through the airwaves of our T.V. Fourth time’s a charm. We only have so many DVDs we can watch, only a one season of “Felicity” to keep us at bay before we die for lack of entertainment.

In other news, we just enjoyed our first weekend in our new apartment! We had three friends in town, SK, a friend from college and KR’s old roommate from junior year; my partner-in-crime since 1993, RW; and the notorious RM, who I made friends with freshman year of high school because he played tennis with all of my closest pals.

He once planned a Spring Break trip to New York that included himself and four girls our freshman year of college. He got us great tickets to shows, put up with our shopping and we even got to watch him in his element on Canal Street, haggling with illegal immigrants for illegal knock-off purses. It was the best trip ever. He and MK shared an apartment in Brooklyn last summer when they were both here for internships, and as RM now works for the same company as MK’s father, he is now known as the guy that lived with Mr. K’s daughter in New York.

Much to the delight of everyone involved, we ran into Heath Ledger in a rustic antique store that we wandered into in SoHo on Saturday morning. We saw Cyrano de Bergerac on Saturday night, which I really enjoyed. Kevin Kline played Cyrano, and he was phenomenal. RM spotted America Ferrera afterward, waiting to go backstage to pay her compliments to the cast, and she was successfully flying under the radar until RM yelled out: “America! We love you! We love Ugly Betty!”

She was terrified, poor America.

She smiled nervously and was then ushered inside quickly before anyone else realized what the commotion was about.

I have to take a moment to commend AV on her ability to handle anyone we throw her way. Homegirl was half asleep at midnight last night when RM breezed through the door, making a dramatic entrance as usual and ensuing in a festival of laughter with KR and I about two feet from her head. What a good sport.

We returned home with hot chocolate because KR had discovered her wallet to be missing* (it was later found to be left in a cab and was returned to her) after a work event that she had been helping with on Saturday, and had not attended the play. We chose to walk home to see all of the crazies who were out in full force for Halloween parties, and we concluded that you could make any costume inappropriate. KR and RM even spotted a scantily clad bumblebee at Penn Station when she went to greet him on Friday night. “We’ll talk about this later” he said to KR, “horizontal stripes are the least of her problems right now."

I don’t care what the old saying goes about how girls can get away with wearing anything on Halloween. I’m sure a guy made that up. Let’s just say if you are wearing lingerie outside- regardless of the holiday or event- it’s not okay, in fact, it’s decidedly a bad idea. You will surely find attention, but not respect.

I’ll get off of my modesty soapbox now.

We went to see Dan In Real Life on Sunday morning, which was surprisingly better than expected. When it comes to movies that almost never happens. Whoever wrote the movie definitely has had teenage daughters at some point in his life. The drama, the fury, the stomping of the feet and the rolling of the eyes- it was all there. I would recommend it- especially if you liked ‘The Family Stone’ and if you are a Steve Carell fan. (And who DOESN’T watch ‘The Office’)?

I’m thinking I need some grammar and punctuation refreshers. My education has not failed me- I’m just tired because I returned home a few minutes ago from a job interview. Yes, my New York Unemployment Saga continues. I actually had a great interview with a great company last week, today’s went well, and I was asked back for a second interview with yet another company for the end of this week.

Throw in a cliché about everything panning out or something about half-full glasses and you have the rest of my afternoon.

I’ll be meeting up with the girls later to go to the Target in Brooklyn. God help us, we were all lucky to get out with all of our limbs intact the last time.

"The most beautiful discovery true friends make is that they can grow separately without growing apart."
- Elizabeth Foley

Tying Of The Knot

We woke up bright and early Saturday morning at Dr. & Mrs. S’s home to begin our day. We got out of bed a little after 7:00am, and her parents were already gone to attend to other wedding-related business.

I had stayed in a room with my old roommate KW, and we were waking up to shower when our friends from the house party burst in, wound-up from a fiasco at the Holiday Inn. Before they told me anything, they made sure it would be covered in the New(York)Comer. I assured them it would, and they proceeded to explain to KW and I an animated story of their evening, which included but was not limited to; shattered glass and banging noises in the room above them, an uninformed hotel desk clerk, and the four of them holding hands for dear life in the same bed. My head hadn’t even stopped spinning from all of them talking with such elaborate hand gestures, and I turned around and they were asleep in the bed I had just got out of. (All four of them, obviously.)

In the midst of our morning, the doorbell rang, and there stood a woman from the local bakery carrying fresh pastries, for which we abandoned our preparations and stopped to eat. J gave each of us gifts, which included personalized stationary. If you know anything about me at all, it’s that I love a good letterhead.

After the breakfasting and gift-receiving, we made our way across town to get our hair done. At one point my friend BF pointed out that watching J get her hair done was like watching that scene at Trudy’s salon in Steel Magnolias where Shelby talks about her wedding while her hair is teased in all directions. We may have been born in the 80’s, but thank goodness we didn’t have to get married in the same decade as poofy bangs and stirrup pants. Some of Mrs. S’s friends had prepared lunch for us, so we got to sit, chat and eat for hours amidst the hairspray and bobby-pinning.

Somewhere in the middle of the day we commented on the fact that the groom and his male friends and family had been playing golf all morning and would only have to shower and put on their suits to get ready for the wedding. They have no idea, do they?

We went back to the S’s house in the early afternoon to do our make-up and put on our dresses. We had all made a new friend- JA, who was a friend of the groom’s from college, and she became our make-up artist for the afternoon. I think one of the primary reasons women plan formal events is just for the occasion of dressing-up.

We finally made it back to the farm for the fourth and final stage of wedding-day preparations: the dressing of the bride. JS is no stranger to the limelight- she once ate a yard of conies from Sonic in front of a captivated audience. At her bachelorette party she entertained an entire restaurant while leading a Conga line with a tambourine through the tables and dancing on stage with the Mariachi band. This is only a small part of her charm- trust me. Anyway- we watched her slip on her beautiful lace gown and got to sit with her through all her pre-wedding emotions.

The ceremony was beautiful and as bridesmaids we were fortunate enough to have the sun on our backs- whenever I found myself getting sentimental during the ceremony I would just watch the groomsmen, who were playing a squinting game of hiding behind each others’ heads to avoid the sun’s glare. We took pictures afterward, and ate barbeque under the stars while table-hopping to get a chance to see our old pals.

JS, being no stranger to the dance floor, had a costume change before the musical portion of the evening started. She traded her lace gown for a short, strapless little white number and a pair of cowboy boots, and we spent the rest of the night in a scene reminiscent to most of our college date parties: girls dancing, guys elsewhere. We sent the happy couple off in a whirlwind of sparklers and an old Mustang convertible, and since most of my friends are now part of the workforce, everyone was exhausted by 10:00pm. We don’t get out much.

A few of us stayed the night with the S’s and woke up early Sunday morning to the smell of breakfast cooking downstairs. We stumbled (gracefully) downstairs with squinty faces to see who on earth was awake, and found JS’s parents in the kitchen, her mother frying bacon and eggs and her father reading the paper and entertaining their 14-month-old granddaughter. It seemed just like any other morning- as if they were just getting up to go to church like any other Sunday. They were chipper and eager to get us fed and caffeinated for our drive home, so we ate and drank and wondered how on earth they could rebound so quickly from such a huge event. I need to find out what kind of vitamins they take.

It was quite the weekend, obviously. I arrived home Sunday, went to Dripping Springs, Texas with my Mom, her friends and sisters, to enjoy a quiet girls’ night away and take a cooking class. I love to cook, and had never taken a class before so I thought it was a blast. Give me a food processor and well-sharpened knives and I’m one happy camper. I also never get to spend that much time with my mom and her entourage, so I got to listen in on their chatting, which was not (shockingly) all about their kids, as I think we all selfishly assume. I love the little things we get from our mothers, like the way SR and her mother have the same sparkling blue eyes and say “salsa” with the same soft “z”, how MK and her mother ask the same introspective questions with the same concerned countenance, how RW has the same killer smile as her mother and how my cousin KH has the same laugh and sweet disposition as my aunt.

Needless to say, it was a great, long weekend. There’s so much still to report…

We’ll get to that later

“What are you doing the rest of your life? North and South and East and West of your life, I have only one request of your life, that you spend it with me.”
- Alan & Marilyn Bergman

Practice Makes Perfect

Figure I: Blushing bride
Figure II: The happy couple
Figure III: The Association of Former 2%ers

I met up with AV at her office Thursday afternoon and we caught a cab to La Guardia. The Ikea guys were late with our delivery, which added to the stress of getting to the airport. We ended up rushing around, only to find that we were about two hours early. Our flight was not full, and both Alyssa and I were the only people in our rows, so I moved before we took off. The guy behind me had said something, which I didn’t realize was directed towards me until I sat next to Alyssa and she told me how oblivious I was for overlooking the nice looking man sitting in 23F. 'Figures,' I thought. Then I ascertained from the thin gold band on his hand that he was married…which also figures.

I wasted no time after arriving at home with my parents. They had picked up fajitas from La Hacienda Ranch, and I completely disregarded the fact that it was midnight and bee-lined for the chips and salsa. I asked my mom to wake me up at 7:30am so that we could spend some time together before I left for Paris. As promised, my mom (accompanied by her faithful dog Lucy) found me in my bed, dead to the world at 7:30. I asked for it.

I made my way to Paris on Friday to meet up with JS (now JP), the bride. You know you are back in Texas when the landmarks used to guide you are Cavender’s Boots and Beall’s. After getting turned around by some sign that looked more like a tied shoelace than highway directions, I made it to J’s family’s house just in time to walk back out the door and look for shoes for her dress rehearsal. The best part of it was that J’s mom drives a gray Astro van with a sliding door, so she would literally pull up to a curb and leave us to search for red patent leather Mary Janes, and I would slide open the door after each trip, only to find myself getting slowly boxed out after each of her errands by the programs, bridal portraits and glass hurricanes.

After arriving back at Dr. & Mrs. S’s home, we had to shower and get ready for the rehearsal. We set off and I finally got to see the wedding site for the first time. You know when you have a preconceived idea of what something is going to look like before you see it? I have no idea what I thought the farm was going to look like- I only know that I was wrong.

We drove up to the most picturesque, Pottery Barn catalogue scene that I have ever seen with my own eyes. Texas really is God’s country. A friend in Bible study yesterday mentioned that she had never seen a state flag flown more often than in Texas- and she’s absolutely right. I probably appreciated the view more considering the fact that I don’t actually see grass everyday. Needless to say- it was the perfect location for the wedding.

We practiced our entrances and exits, made polite introductions with the San Diego groomsmen in the midst of our college gal pal reunion and watched the sunset over lake. The night was already perfect- and we hadn’t even eaten yet. The chicken fried steak and bread pudding at Hole In The Wall (actual name of the restaurant) were superb, but not as good as the company or the slide show.

I just scrolled up to see how long this is, and I have not even gotten to the day-of. I’ll have to update tomorrow as well, before this novel turns epic.

"The best mirror is an old friend."
-Peter Nivio Zarlenga

Put It On My Tab

Pictures from top left:
Figure I: Irony at Ikea
Figure II: "Do it yourself"
Figure III: The perfect place for our DVR: in the middle of the hall on the floor.

Remember that time I fell getting off the bus and skinned my knee? Now I have a lovely scab/bruise to show for it… just in time for the bridesmaid’s dress I will be wearing in 48 hours.

I am currently sitting at our new apartment waiting for the delivery guys from Ikea to show up. The time frame they gave me was 11:00am-3:00pm. That’s quite a large frame, especially when it’s just me, three twin beds and an empty refrigerator. We do have the Internet connection set up, and DVR for that matter. There’s no T.V. yet, but maybe one day soon since we are all in desperate need of Giada and Paula. There is only so much you can do in six days, if you catch my drift ($$$$$).

I had two more interviews this week, and actually got calls from many of the other people I have met/corresponded with since I have been in New York. It’s like everyone woke up on Monday and suddenly decided they needed a new assistant. I’m certainly not complaining, but there has been such variety in the jobs I have applied for, that it will be interesting to see which opportunity I am given and where I end up working.

As inferred above, KR, AV and I will be returning to the Texas tonight for our friend JS’s wedding weekend. She will be tying the knot on a ranch in Paris, Texas at what promises to be quite the party, and moving to San Diego (discovered by the Germans). We will get to see family, our friends and I’m pretty sure there is chicken fried steak involved. Since this is my eighth and final wedding of 2007, and since JS is such a dear friend and devoted blog-follower, I’ll be sure to provide full coverage upon my return.

I will also be home to celebrate my mother’s 50th birthday on Sunday, and I will be going on an overnight girl’s trip to the Hill Country with her entourage. My family has had a milestone year: I graduated college, my parents celebrated their 25th anniversary and both turned 50, my brother turned 21, and we moved into a new house. What this really translates to is all of us sitting on the porch, drinking a beer, talking about how old we are and going to bed early. I love it!

Now it’s time to unpack the bags in my room and re-pack for this weekend. I have put it off as long as possible, and the window of delivery time is waning; yet there is still much to be done. I can’t check the overhead compartments for baggage that may have moved during the flight if there is no baggage to begin with, now can I?

"The beginnings of all things are small."
- Cicero

Moving Weekend Installment II: Exhaustaleeza Rice

We woke up Sunday and hurried to get ready for church, since the morning service was meeting at 10:30am in the Southwest corner of the Great Lawn of Central Park. We found ourselves on the Southwest-ish area of Sheep’s Meadow (note: different from the Great Lawn) at 11:15am. Needless to say: church did not happen.

After we got off to such a great start, we ascertained that we were in the neighborhood of our new apartment and set off to the West Side. After viewing the selection of sleeper couches that Jennifer Convertibles had to offer, we made a decision that had been imminent since the day we decided to move to New York.

That’s right, we went to Ikea.

We bit the bullet, boarded a New Jersey-bound bus at the Port Authority and headed to the Swedish home conglomerate. Ikea has a very specific organization to it, which was nice because everything was organized (in a controlled-chaos type of way) but made it difficult to try and retrace our steps. Armed with an Ikea-issued list, yellow bag, a golf cart pencil and a text from MK that read “Godspeed”, we ascended the escalator and into the madness.

We made sure to carefully mark each item we wanted on our list, and eventually accumulated two other yellow bags full of inexpensive kitchen goods. It was not until we reached the end of the labyrinth and found ourselves in the midst of the get-it-yourself warehouse when we were told that we were supposed to be ordering the items we wanted from each individual department as we went. Deflated, AV and I left KR with all the bags in the middle of the dining table showroom.

Once our major items had been reserved, we made it through the zoo known as the children’s section and back to the self-serve furniture warehouse. I say self-serve as if it where as easy as grabbing a cone of frozen yogurt at Jason’s Deli, but Weak Girl Arms prevailed and KR and I had a brief debacle that included a broken glass jar and a near-incident involving a coffee table. The eye-level boxes on the shelf were black, but the ones about a foot and a half above our heads were black-brown, which seemed worth it at the time. The coffee table somehow made it onto the cart, and no necks were broken.

Luckily, the delivery guy at Ikea was very accommodating and we got to leave the bulk of our load with him to deal with. We managed to make it to our new apartment without breaking anything else and were ultimately pleased with our weekend productivity.

I also skinned my knee tonight…I’m fairly confident that hadn’t happened in 16 years.

Just when I was starting to feel like a grown-up.

“Only with laughter can you win.”
-Rosie Thomas

Moving Weekend Installment I: Rookie Mistakes

This has been the most expensive weekend of our lives.

One lease, three beds, a couch, various other items and delivery fees, 48 hours and roughly $10,000 later, we have our apartment. We also have stuff- and lots of it. Our lease officially starts tomorrow- which means this is our farewell night to the Murray Hill Air Mattress Club. It does not so much feel like a teary good-bye yet- probably since I will still be here daily to use the Internet and do laundry. Not to mention the fact that there is no way all of our junk is getting out of here in one day. Not a chance.

After the lease signing on Friday night, we ate at Au Bon Pain and decided to buy some pastries for breakfast on Saturday. The clerk informed us that if we waited 15 minutes, we could get them for half-price, so we shamelessly watched the clock to get our bargain croissants while we mapped out our weekend schedule. We made it down to Sleepy’s to get our mattresses before they closed, and bee-lined for the back to find the best deals on twin mattresses. That’s right, we are 22-year-olds investing in twin beds. I am fairly confident that the only time in my life that has been spent in a twin bed was my freshman year of college, as well as the time I spent at camp and studying abroad.

Saturday morning AV and I woke up and headed to this Saturday/Sunday event on W. 25th called the Antiques Garage. I plan to go back for decorative items eventually, but we were not in the market for paintings or . We met up with KR and took the train to Brooklyn to check out some second-hand furniture stores. Brooklyn, for all of you Texans reading this, is across the East River from Manhattan.

Brooklyn Heights is a particularly nice area, but I would compare the rest of Brooklyn to the former Soviet region of Eastern Europe. By that I mean one minute you’re walking down a beautiful cobblestone street, and the next you’re on an abandoned ghetto sidewalk covered in graffiti with weeds growing through the cracks in the cement. But it’s charming- seriously.

And then we got ambitious and decided to go to Target. Target sounds easy in theory, it really does. It seemed like familiar territory until we remembered that Target stores are few and far-between here, and there are about eight million people who need cheap house-ware items just as much as we do.

We knew we were in a whole different ball game when we walked in to see the escalator in the middle of the store, and something none of us had ever seen before: a cart escalator. That’s right, you literally push your red buggy onto a ramp that drags it up next to you to the second floor. This was a Target of advanced technology, it was a Saturday afternoon in New York, and our eyes were bigger than our arm muscles. At one point we even looked at a T.V. stand for a space that we had yet to measure and a T.V. we did not yet own. We had to draw the line somewhere.

After several hazy hours which included selecting an accent color for our black and white bathroom (KR wanted to make it look more “warm” and less “Beetlejuice”), vague directions about the unavailability of a certain black coffee maker from incompetent Target team members and managing to get a full-sized ironing board on and off the subway at Grand Central- we were defeated. Target: 1, Weak Girl Arms: 0.

Once we returned home and regaled MK with our tales, we ate supper at a place with guacamole worth mentioning, and went to see the new “Elizabeth” movie. Cate Blanchett was at her finest- and the costumes were amazing. I usually know I’ll enjoy a movie when the previews give me chills, and I wasn’t disappointed.

So that was Saturday, and today was a whole different adventure for which I will open a different can of worms tomorrow.

“You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.”
- E.L. Doctorow

It's Official

We are no longer homeless! Well… as of Monday that is, but don't worry, we are still mooching until then. As long as everything goes swimmingly Friday when the lease is signed- we are good to go for a Monday move-in! Since there is already a line of people booking flights and planning visits, I suggest you run your travel plans by us to make sure our air mattress calendar is not booked up.

We get to spend the weekend shopping for mattresses and a couch, among other things. We will be returning home next weekend for our dear friend JS’s wedding, and I fully plan on packing a suitcase that will accommodate my blender and food processor… since I’m pretty sure those don’t qualify as safe carry-on items. I guess I will grab some cold weather clothes to brace myself for this “brisk New York fall” I keep hearing so much about.

I am still on the job search. Just an FYI: I’ll keep talking about it until I have one. It’s so elusive, and if I have learned anything from this whole experience, it is that timing is everything. Case and point, AV got an e-mail today from THE company she would have hand-picked to work for upon arriving in the city, a week and a half after beginning her new job. THE company contacted her to let her know that they had some job opportunities they thought she would be interested in. Stab and twist.

I neglected to mention the shopping fiasco KR and I had last week. MK had found some good buys at this place near her office, and so we thought we would venture down and see for ourselves. I should have known better when I Googled it to get the cross-streets that the tagline on the website for Century 21 store was: “Fashion worth fighting for.”

I should have, but I didn’t.

I fell prey to the Financial District’s discount fashion powerhouse under the pretense of paying less for my favorite brands. Was it worth it? I’ve been to the mall the day after Christmas, I’ve been to Neiman’s on the first weekend of the Last Call sale, and I even dabbled on tax-free weekend once. None of those could hold a stick to the madness that was Century 21. I enjoy shopping. I know there are women who see it as a chore- I’m not one of them. I even met with the carpenter of my parents’ new house to discuss the maximization of space in my new closet because by some odd twist of fate I lived in the room with the smallest closet in our old house for 15 years. I eventually took over the other two closets upstairs, but that is neither here nor there.

Don’t worry, there thousands (literally) of great places to shop here. We will cover as many as possible when you come to visit.

“Dwell in possibility.”
– Emily Dickinson

Give The People What They Want

I cannot even begin to explain these pictures. There is a pair of roller/figure-skaters in Central Park training for the 2010 Winter Olympics, there is a tiny (and sadly typical) New York apartment and the aftermath of a Texas-sized supper (for the record that is barbeque sauce, not blood).

We had a busy week around here- but what else is new? AV’s sister-in-law is currently in labor back in Texas with AV’s soon-to-be second nephew! They were planning on inducing labor when AV comes home in two weeks, but the baby beat everyone to the punch and decided today was the day.

AV started her new job and KR prepared for her new life in the working world. She already warned us that she might cry tonight. She apparently has cried on the eve of the first day of school her entire life. It’s the same way some girls cry every time they get their haircut. Or at any other time in life when emotions are conflicted or coincide, come to think of it. Happy and tired, excited and hesitant, relieved and thankful… all perfect recipes for tears.

Wow, I’m a girl surrounded by girls. Onward.

Hill Country Barbeque: three beautiful words. KR went to baby-sit for another British family, so AV, MK and I took off to the highly recommended Chelsea hot spot of the same name. Once the intoxicating aroma of smoked goodness reached our noses, we were content to grab a drink and wait for an hour and a half to get a table. We joked none of us should ever attempt to eat barbeque on a date- there’s something primal about eating meat with your hands off of a bone. It’s also delicious.

There were a few random Texans hanging around, and a large group of mid-thirties New York men dressed like they had just returned from a hunting trip. They might have looked more believable to a less discerning eye, but I saw no five’ o’clock shadows or cowboy boots, and lots of hair gel and tucked-in shirts. Someone is getting short-changed on his cowboy lessons.

I should also mention that we looked at a few more places this week. In the interest of saving about $5,600, we pursued alternatives to using a real estate broker. We got connected with a management company, and KR and I ended up in the 80’s of the Upper East Side yesterday looking at a place. It had all the charm you would want from a New York apartment with an exposed brick wall, new kitchen appliances, good windows and hardwood floors, etc., but we could not get over the second “bedroom”, which was roughly 8x5. I literally lay down on the floor to get a more realistic idea of the actual width, and I could not rest my head on the floor.

I’m 5’6.

I could do a deep lunge in there while finding appliances to plug into the superfluous four electrical outlets, and that’s about it. We were seriously thinking of bed alternatives like dog pillows and bean bags (a twin would not have fit in the space), or the possibility of bunk beds in the bigger bedroom. These were actual options, until today.

Today we ventured to the 60’s of the Upper West Side, and got to see two places, across the hall from each other, that are currently having their floors redone. We fell in love with the second of the two, and made friends with the super, who gave us an application and said she would put in a good word for us with the management company. Cross your fingers people, this is in your best interest too, you know. I know once we get a place many of you will be on our doorstep quicker than we can say “Ikea”.

In honor of Columbus Day, which is kind of a big deal up here:

"We cannot discover new oceans until we have the courage to lose sight of the shore."
-Muriel Chen

*A special congrats to AV’s family on the birth of the new baby! Welcome to the world Baby H!

The Cheese Stands Alone

That’s right folks, we’re 66.7% of the way there! KR received an official offer yesterday afternoon from a publication she has been interviewing with, and trained today with the girl she will be replacing before she starts on Monday. AV started her job yesterday- we even got an e-mail from her in the afternoon with the little e-mail signature from her company, which seems to make everything more official. I’m bringing up the rear on the job front, so we’ll see how this week pans out (after much diligent and proactive work on my part- I mean).

My first day of solitude was actually great because I came down with a self-diagnosed cold or something equally tragic over the weekend. It started with a scratchy throat, then progressed to a stuffy nose and now a hacking cough. I’ve certainly complained about it enough! I bought some community hand-sanitizer for all of us- since we live within a three-foot radius of each other most of the time. KR seems to be coming down with the same thing, which means we’ll get to commiserate together for the rest of the week.

I was at the apartment post-cleaning lady and pre-sugar mamas returning home, and I did not realize how eerily quiet it was until my phone rang. The T.V. was off, there was no hair on the ground (four girls=considerable shedding), and there were no clothes visible the naked eye. I sat there on the couch with full knowledge that the remote was broken, that there would be hair on the ground as soon as one of us so much as plugged in a curling iron, and that if I peeked in any cabinet door I would be covered by a barrage of shoes. KR and I use the cabinet under the T.V. for our shoes; it’s a very tedious, Jenga-like game.

(whining, coughing, looking for a Kleenex)

Last night, after many seasons of carefully watching The Bachelor, I concluded once and for all that Chris Harrison has the easiest job in television. All he does is tap a champagne glass with a fork, do a few voice-overs about the most dramatic rose ceremony ever, and say “take a moment and say your good-bye’s” at the end of every episode. That’s it. He flies to posh destinations all over the world, acts as a pseudo-sounding board for guys who should never have had that many girls to choose from in the first place, and pick up a dozen red roses on his way to work. Are these jobs listed on Monster or what?

(more whining, more coughing)

I finally downloaded that pesky Ingrid Michaelson song on the Old Navy commercial that airs every five minutes. I was annoyed with only knowing one stanza, and I actually like the song, but seeing that unfortunate sweater has not gotten any easier. MK came home with some snazzy new turtlenecks from Ann Taylor today, though. Funny how quickly we pass up the trendy jeans and short Mod dresses for well-tailored pants and knit sweaters.

On a different note, I think I have neglected to mention how much I love quotes. You learn something new everyday. From now on, I’ll be ending every entry with a quote. Happy Tuesday, all.

“Not all who wander are lost.” –J.R.R. Tolkien.

New Puppy & Considering Adoption

Nope, not even a little bit. We keep catching KR googling pictures of puppies and talking about small British children. We're keeping a close eye on that one, but I can't make any promises.

In case you have not seen the news, read the paper or gotten on the Internet this week- we had two presidents in New York this week. This meant that every NYPD officer and orange traffic cone was out in full force, making a center lane in the blocks leading up to the U.N. It’s really reassuring- walking into Grand Central and seeing motorcades of black suburbans with men in sunglasses holding guns and staring at you through their open windows. I’m also fairly confident that the same people protesting the president of Iran just changed shirts and protested Bush the next day. Retired hippies have way too much free time.

We tried our hand at the New York apartment hunt this week- we got the number of a referred broker, met with her, and spent an afternoon viewing openings on the Upper West Side. No one exaggerated about the difficulty of finding a good place here- that’s pretty much the only thing we found to be true. It is every bit of the headache it was promised to be.

The first place we went to was a converted hotel behind the Lincoln Center-, which had the smallest closets and most non-existent living area/kitchen, we saw all day. The second was in a nice neighborhood, but it was under construction, and kind of depressing inside. The third was our favorite- the kitchen and living area were actually separate which was a bonus. I don’t know where we would do laundry or buy groceries, but maybe we will just have to live without food and clean clothes. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made. The fourth place I almost don’t even want to talk about. We had to climb seven flights of stairs because the elevator was not in service (red flag), and I was inclined to think it could have a pest problem. I’m not knocking the pre-war buildings, but I do have a standard of cleanliness. It’s negotiable- but it I do have one.

We started joking about our different options, and one of them was getting a nice studio where we could line up three twin beds orphanage- style. What we would sacrifice in privacy, we would gain in nicer appliances and a doorman. I’m really not sure which is more important at this point.

After AV filled out an expandable folder full of paper work for her new job and KR and I continued our job search, we took some time off yesterday morning and set off to lay out in the Central Park sunshine. On our way to the bus stop it began raining intermittently, which was fantastic considering my laptop was in my messenger bag. I should pause to mention that our subway passes also work for the city buses, which are the preferred method of travel for sassy old New York women. So there we were, umbrella-less in the sprinkling rain, looking at two buses with bus drivers who would not acknowledge the fact that we were waiting. The blue hairs of 42nd street were getting their feathers ruffled, and we knew from experience that we did not want to be around for that, so we went to our back up, which is always Bryant Park.

Since we obviously couldn’t win for losing, it made perfect sense that when we found a table in the sun (yep, ten minutes later it was sunny), we were immediately surrounded by a 6th grade class that had settled in for their lunch break. The boys of the class decided to start throwing something, which turned out to be a baby carrot, for the duration of the break. The girls of the class (taller and more awkward than the boys) joined in until one of them got her hair stepped-on. There was also a class of little private-school kindergarteners, who were hilarious. Our level of amusement was probably enhanced by the fact that they were not our responsibility to watch. The kids were yanking up the squares of grass they were supposed to be sitting on, and even with a teacher and two chaperones it took about thirty minutes to get them to stop kicking each other and actually sit and eat something. Oh yes, and AV and KR both got grass stains, which made everything better.

We met up with some girls from our Bible study this morning to deliver food to the “frail elderly” of the Upper East this morning. It was great- the people were really appreciative and it was a beautiful day. We got home just in time to watch none of the football games we wanted to see. We also decided that T.V. really leaves something to be desired on the weekends. Since they don’t show Big 12 games in New York, we just turned on what we thought was America’s Funniest Home Videos on Animal Planet. I can’t decide if they are trying to be funny- we just watched a child playing an accordions in a stable while pigs chewed at his shoes.

You can’t make this stuff up.