Tartan Week

Tartan Week kicked off today. Actually, this year it's more like Tartan Week(s), as the annual Tartan Day Parade is not until April 14. Since it was absolutely beautiful outside, I walked the twenty five blocks up to Grand Central where the Scottish Village was set up.

While the layout is always the same, the exhibits change. A few years ago, we were able to view William Wallace's sword there. This year, the main exhibits were paltry at best. However, its saving grace were the established vendors that appear to be non-changing.

Last year, I recieved a free mouse pad of the Scottish flag. This year they were handing out hats with the flag on them. I just love free stuff!!

I was especially interested in the Loch Ness Monster exhibit. I'm not into conspiracies or a major believer in legends, but, if there is one thing I believe in, it's Nessie. Don't mess with the Ness! Of course, there are always the contests, and travel pamphlets galore. I must have entered about three of them to win various trips to Scotland. Don't discount sweepstakes, I certainly don't. I won a trip to England one year through one.

Other than that, visiting the vendors was fun. There was Best of Scotland, which has very beautiful and very expensive cashmere sweaters. Ancestral Scotland allows one to research their Scottish roots on a computer. Thistle & Broom sells luxury clothing, and uses only resources from Scotland. Of course, no visit was complete without a stop at the Scottish Gourmet! I managed to stay away from the tablet (um, tablet!), but ended up purchasing lavendar shortbread for my grandmother, and some pinhead oatmeal for myself. There were many others there, but the ones I listed were the vendors I spent a considerable amount of time visiting.

Walking around, I got a great feeling about myself. A sense of pride. Although I'm English first and foremost, I am deeply proud of my Scottish heritage. Especially since I can trace my ancestry back to the Massacre of Glencoe.

Overall, the atmosphere of the village was one of fun and good times. Regardless of what exhibits are there, each year I manage to have a great time.

A Meal Unto Itself

I live near City Bakery, and have always heard about their infamous hot chocolate. For some reason, perhaps closeness breeds un-necessity, I had never been there before. Trust me, it was kind of hard not to avoid them. This establishment has a cult following all throughout the country. Even Martha Stewart raves about them. Still, I have walked by the place, like, umpteenth million times, and have never set foot over the threshold. Until today. Because it was such a beautiful day, I was in my, I-revel-in-all-things-New York mood. On my way to Old Navy to return a tank top, I walked by and thought, "Oh, what the hell, I need to give this hot cocoa a shot".

I ordered a small and opted for the home made marshmallow (as seen above). At first, I balked at the five dollar price tag. Who buys hot cocoa worth five bucks? Then I realized I was about to consume an cult classic, and swallowed my frugal pride. My thoughts? One word - decadent. What you are drinking is pure chocolate, melted down and served in a cup. It can be eaten with a spoon. This ain't Swiss Miss folks! Had Augustus Gloop fallen into this stuff, he would've sunk right then and there, like quicksand. No chocolate river journey for him. It was so unbelievably rich I couldn't even finish it and was only able to get through about half before finally throwing in the towel. It proved to be a meal unto itself.

Would I recommend this to you? Hell yeah! Would I ever order one again? Not for awhile now. It proved to be so filling it was sickening. Should you want to partake, I would first recommend ordering only one small cup and sharing it with someone.

This stuff is not for the faint at heart.

Hand Over Mouth, Press Firmly.

Last night, I went out for drinks with a few of my co-workers. Usually, we choose our regular hangouts in the garment district where we clink glasses among all the other garmentos. This time, since the president of our division had a say, and his trusty Am-Ex black card to use (YEAH!), we headed to the Library Hotel for drinks. It was a beautiful unusually hot day yesterday, and we were so looking forward to snag an open spot on the rooftop lounge. However, since everyone and their brother were also enjoying the weather, there wasn't enough room to accommodate us. The ground level lounge would have to suffice.

Well. After much libation, the emotions and friendliness flowed like a river. Boss Man had to leave, and the rest of us were left to our own devices. The mood of the night quickly changed and we were all loosey-goosey with our feelings and laughter. Now, I have an uncanny knack of being full out piss drunk while managing to restrain myself from doing anything weird or out of the ordinary. Lucky for me. Lucky for everyone. Anyway, I was able to shock everyone present with a few saucy confessions, and without doing permanent damage to my reputation. Thank God.

However, the next day, I had this feeling of dread on my way into work of having to face these few co-workers. At first, I couldn't figure out why, because I wasn't the only one who had freed up the 411. I also worried how things would have been had I been out of control and revealed too much. It's not like I once worked at the Bunny Ranch, or Peep World, or anything like that. We all have a past and our experiences are subjective to both the listener and the storyteller. I guess that deep down I realized that my co-workers never really got to know me outside of work. In truth, I felt naked. It was just that I did something I rarely do and always seem to have trouble with - I opened up. Made myself vulnerable. My private life was now up for everyone to interpret in a whole different way. What did they think of me prior to this night, I wondered? What do they think of me now?

Arriving at work, it wasn't bad. Again, it's not like I did anything crazy. I just admitted to some past fun times and revealed some personal opinions. Now? There's a new comfort level that I am just like the rest. Had I kept my mouth shut the entire night, people might have continued to think of me as too shy and polite.

This was supposed to be a fun night - and it was.

I Got To Say It Was A Good Day

Yesterday, was a picture perfect day. My two cousins H and H came into the city for Elton John's 60th Birthday concert at MSG, and they spent the afternoon with me. Because they spend most of their time in Midtown when they visit, I decided to show them around the West Village. When it's a beautiful day in New York, it's absolutely beautiful in every way possible. H (of 365 blog fame) took a lot of pictures and posted a few of them on her blog. I am so awestruck at her talent, and she really captured the essence of the day. Had I taken the picture of the little girl (which is one of my faves because it captures the innocence of people watching from above), I would have taken it so far back that too much would have been in the shot. I'm glad I was able to show them a part of the city I cherish, which is also a part that many don't get to see on television.

It's funny, because we all learned something new that day, including yours truly. After they arrived and we found a place to eat, they expressed an interest in visiting Madame Tussaud's. Never in my life had I set foot in the place and I really only went out of half interest. Well, I was completely taken by surprise to find that I had such a great time there. I truly believed it would have been a bunch of horrible wax figures just standing around. Yeah, some of the celebrities didn't look as true to life as you would think, but some looked as if the actual person were standing right there in front of you. The museum creates an ambiance with the figures and that makes a major difference. We went through the Chamber of Horrors but didn't remember much because our eyes were closed and we were screaming the whole time!

I'm so glad I was able to spend some time with my cousins, since I'm not able to much. Still, it's always fun to connect with them, and yesterday was no different.

Now I Don't Feel So Friggin Bad

AMNY, Newsday's daily free paper, had a feature Friday about a couple living together in a 295 square foot apartment in Chelsea. I would guess that my apartment clocks in at around the same square footage, but where I have length, they have width (lucky ducks!). However, their apartment is pretty much configured the same as mine, a classic railroad flat. At first, I stared at the picture of them, cosy in their tiny abode, way jealous of the nicey-niceness of the space. Then I took at look at what they are currently paying for their pad; $1,675 per month!! Gasp! Shock! Horror! Can a place that tiny really go for so much? Well, read the article folks because apparently, it's much more commonplace than I originally thought.

I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised. Several years ago, when feeling a bit of the summer doldrums one feels when they aren't allowed to have A/C in their living space, I decided to take a looksy at the apartment pool again. What I saw, for the amount they demanded, shocked me right back into my little shoebox. It was then I learned I was officially priced out of the city forever. You see, it wasn't always like this...

When I first moved here, cheap apartments were a skosh easier to come by. However, I moved here a pauper, with not enough to plunk down for a decent broker, and certainly not enough to pay several months of rent in advance, as was expected. There were also more neighborhood options open in terms of the rental market, but they weren't yet safe for a single girl in her mid twenties. Brooklyn was a place where you moved to have kids, or for huge multiple bedrooms. Or in defeat. I settled by accident in Gramercy and watched as this neighborhood became so hot it took me years until I began to feel like I fit in. I still don't dine much on Irving Place!

Still, I don't feel so bad knowing that many continue to live in such small spaces in order to remain here. It's just another quirky, kooky aspect of city living.

Avocados & Ice Skating - Revisited

Last night was a harsh ice skating session. It was a bit warm and very humid, yet cold enough to keep Wollman Rink open (there’s a cooling system underneath). However, skating on sharp cold ice is a bit different than the soupy, scraggly mess I faced last night. Anytime you see gleaming super slick ice, don’t fret. As much as it looks hard, scary and sharp as knives, it’s going to provide you with the smoothest ride you can imagine. Apparently, others were having problems as well. We were one huge sweaty fallsy bunch out there; including yours truly. Less than one hour into it all, it start to rain. I held out for as long as possible before throwing in the towel.

Once home, I decided to revisit the avocado milkshake recipe. It made perfect sense not to binge on junk, since I just had a grueling workout (and two decadent cookies before leaving for the rink!). But, I didn’t have the time or energy to make a meal, and I wanted something refreshing as well. So I pulled out the blender and got to work. I had purchased some rum extract, which made it all taste so much better. This is definitely now part of my repertoire. I was really bummed when I finished up the shake cause I wanted more, but I knew it wouldn't be a wise choice for my waistline.

Whilst preparing it, I got to thinking. Parents give babies avocado mashed with banana to form a concoction called “Chunky Monkey”. It’s way tasty and way good for babies. Well, they don’t actually verbalize the tasty opinion to us, you just have to guess by their facial expressions. Half avocado/half banana? Hmmm, I will have to begin the milkshake experiments. It can only result in yumminess.

The Sign Read

"Help yourself to some Spanish chocolates".

In the basket were Toberlone chocolates.

Spain - 40°26′N 3°42′W
Switzerland - 46°57′N 7°27′E

Battle Royale

On my way home from work today, I got into a verbal confrontation with a disgruntled middle aged man. Oh, he was ugly too.

When I walk the city streets home, I tend to keep to the sides because I'm frequently lost in thought and I don't want to bump into people. I am however, aware of my surroundings. In this case, the sidewalks weren't busy, so there was ample space for this jerk to walk by me unfettered. This was not to be the case. In a matter of seconds I felt the sharp jab of a shoulder bag in my gut. Le Jerkoff immediately got defensive with me even before I exclaimed, "WHAT THE FUCK!?" My brain quickly determined that either he meant to slam into me, or he assumed that he didn't have to move for anyone. After I yelled at him, he turned to me and called me a million names, not one of them good. I walked towards him shouting back insults. I was quite the surprised one when he decided to walk back in my direction and have a go at me. A shouting match ensued, and after putting up with his string of crazy non sequiturs (“Oh, is that your favorite body part!?”), I arrived at the conclusion that he must have been a card carrying member of the He-Man Woman Haters Club.

Luckily, I quickly assessed the situation and remembered that I had pepper spray on my person. I think he got it into his thick skull that going after a woman in the middle of Midtown, who was also reaching in her handbag for something, was not the greatest idea in the whole wide world. In his final coup de main, before walking away for good, he shouted, "GO VOTE FOR HILLARY CLINTON!!"

Okay. I'm getting verbal abuse and savvy political advice. I wonder if this guy hires himself out for consulting jobs too. I had to laugh, I mean what was I supposed to do after that comment? Can you imagine if I stopped, turned to him, and gently explained -

"Actually sir, I'm more of a conservative Democrat myself. I'm personally opposed to abortion, but I firmly believe in a woman's right to choose. I'm an advocate of personal responsibility, but feel that the government should provide a solid safety net for the marginalized members of society, or those who might find themselves in a financially unstable position".

Imagine that scenario folks!

After calming myself down, I got the distinct feeling that he was a short old loser, mad at what the world dished out to his pathetic self. My guess is either his wife left his sorry ass, or he was currently married to some useless hag. Whatever it was, he needed to get some.

Why be angry at me? I can't help it if I'm cute and happened to be having a good hair day!

Back In The Learning Groove

I am attempting my second on-line course this semester. “First Peoples of North America” starts today and will focus on Native American history. I’m all excited about this course for obvious personal reasons, but I feel that I’m going to be able to handle the material and flow of the course much better than the last on-line class I took; which was last semester. I’m a bit more seasoned this time around. On-line courses are actually quite difficult. To make up for lost physical time in the classroom, students are required to contribute to several discussions, which can be hard because there are certain criteria to meet. There’s no one liners allowed on these boards. That can be a pain in the ass when you have to reply to several classmates about one topic and you end up feeling like a myna bird.

Make no mistake; there is nothing like face time in a regular classroom. However, when it comes to education, I wouldn’t recommend taking only one route. I’ve done my freshmen and sophomore years physically, in a classroom. Now, due to time constraints, and just plain needing to get my degree done and over with, it looks like I’ll be spending my junior and senior years on a computer.

In the mean time, I keep meaning to schedule an appointment with my other school, the brick and mortar one, to sort out my graduation requirements. I am SO over them right now it exhausts me to think about what’s in store when I have my advisement session. UGH!

*Sigh*

"I Think New Jersey Made Me Sick"

This said by a fellow traveler on our way back from the Garden state. To be honest with you, no sentence could be more apropos considering the situation. Now, I'm not one of those people who are anti-New Jersey. I mean, I've poked fun at it in the past. But, what's done is done. It's in the past, and we can all be friends now. But, I will admit that it's very hard for a city dweller, without a vehicle, to travel to New Jersey. Especially the suburbs, where we were today. By the end of the day, I was exhausted.

I went to my friend K's baby shower. It was so great to see her as I hadn't seen her in months. For those who don't know the story, K didn't find out she was pregnant until she was five months along. Come to find out, the reason she didn't know was that it was an ectopic pregnancy that had been successful. I don't know logistics, and I never paid much attention to St. Elsewhere, but apparently, the baby had grown closer to her cervix, which is why her body never picked up on the fact she was pregnant. She continued to function in the way a woman does for several months not knowing she was actually pregnant. Plus, she wasn't showing so much because the baby was so low. Now? She's HUGE! And because of the way she's carrying, it will be physically impossible for her to push. Because of this fact and the way the baby is placing pressure on her body, they want to induce her three weeks before her due date.

Technically, she's only been cognizant of a pregnancy for about, say, three and a half months now!

It was finally great to see all of the people she has talked about in the past. I've known K for nine years now. I met her at my first fashion job. I also saw G, (or G-Cat as I call her), which was great because I don't get to see them that much since we've all moved on to different jobs. We got to catch up on everything. D and T didn't show up, but still, it's always good seeing my girls. K, G, D and T are part of group which comprises quote unquote "The Girls". They're the friends who have been with me from most of the beginning, and will be there to the end. In fact, a lot of my sassiness comes from them. If you ever see me talk with my hands, it's their entire fault. You could say it’s part of my undoing, actually. They’re the ones that truly helped me become a New Yorker, in both body language and vocabulary. We've been together through thick and thin. Everything. Breakups, marriages - everything. And now one of us, the first of us actually, the first of our "lot", is having a baby. I'm definitely looking at it in a bittersweet way. Just to see K have a baby. It's so different. It's going to be so weird. K's a character. She's quite the character. It will be amazing to see her as a mommy.

At the close of the baby shower, K's fiancé was kind enough to give us city dwellers (K's current co-workers) a ride to the PATH station at Newark Penn, which would get us back to Manhattan. Let me tell ya, the PATH is an experience. I don't bemoan it, it's just an experience. I did get to know K's work buddies well, except for one who was kind of cunty in attitude. Whatever. Her loss. She got off at Journal Square with her pseudo-trendy boyfriend in tow to transfer to Hoboken. Go figure. I continued on with the other two and had a delightful conversation all the way to the WTC stop. I've said this before and I'll say it again, it's always fun to talk shop with fellow garmento fashionites.

K? I can't believe it. K's going to have a baby. I said it. I said it out loud. I got it out into the open. By the end of this week, she'll be holding a brand new baby. And this baby, given this baby's journey, it's such a blessing. Welcome to the world!! You fought like hell against all odds to get here. I just hope you remain a fighter; a good one. I wish you all the best baby!

Family Matters

Monday, I mailed out a card for my great aunt’s 90th birthday yesterday. It’s not every day you pick out a 90th birthday card for someone. Trust me, there’s not many on offer to buy either. There was a sense of sadness in this act because my great aunt is the only "great-" anything left on my mother’s side of the family. I should look at it with reverence and happiness, and trust me, on so many levels I do. But, I can’t help but have a thin layer of melancholy when I think about it.

Several weeks ago, while at my cousin’s house, I stared into a group portrait of my maternal grandmother's parents with all of their children, their children's spouses, and their first grandchild. Only two in the picture are alive today - my great aunt and my mother’s cousin (which would make her my second cousin). I remember almost all of these people when they were alive, save for my great-grandfather, who passed seven months prior to my arrival into the world.

Sometimes, I also think of my paternal grandmother and I feel sadness. She is the only grandparent I have left, and that has an impact on how I view family. First, there are the most obvious reasons; you don’t want the people you love very much to leave you. Second, not only is it hard to let go of family members, it’s also hard to let go of time. Lastly, there are threads which hold a family together, thick richly woven ones and grandparents are almost always holding the reigns to them. Once they pass, the rest of the family is left to pick up where the grandparents left off. It becomes like a new administration, complete with shifting of power, shifting of balances, and shifting of allegiances.

Another thought I had is that family works somewhat like a tier system of generations, and it’s sometimes hard making that depressing but natural move up those tiers. Once my maternal grandfather passed, there was a brief period of shifting. Who was going to head the family now? We now had to make adjustments. With a tier system, there is deep comfort being part of the youngest group (thus, the last tier) who looks up to the older groups, no matter how difficult it may be. I think part of this comfort is the memories that come with your generational place in the family tree. With those memories, remains a longing for things to remain as they are, not to change one bit. To keep the good old days. Does that make sense?

Now? My cousins, who once looked up at the older folks, have jumped a tier and have another generation who is now doing the looking up. It's a constant reminder that unlike photos, time doesn't freeze.

Guilty Pleasure # 63

http://www.chowhound.com

The only problem with sites like these is you get so caught up in what's supposed to be "the best" that you can easily become confused.

A search for the best bagels turns up many heated threads. That's to be expected, I guess. But it's wonderful for the man on the street opinions, and possibly finding some places that aren't quite known or have been printed in city guidebooks. Yet.

In It To Win It

Quite possibly, my most favorite song in the whole wide world (right now anyway).

Anytime I feel down, I just listen to this song and try to gain a better perspective of how far I've come along in life. This is of course considering the circumstances by which I arrived in this world.

Hey somebody's giving me grief
I'm having one of those days
Something that I just don't need
Today things just ain't going my way
Nothing is working for me
Oh boy I'm feeling the strain

[Bridge:]
So now I, gotta reach up to the bright sky
Live life, have trust, keep the faith
Dust myself off and I'll be alright

[Chorus:]
It's ok, bad days will come at times
Don't stress it won't last it's only for a minute
All good hard times you'll wonder why
Oh babe you got to be strong
If you gon' win it

Hey what's the problem with me
Is it bad enough to complain
There's people much worse off than me
Hey can't seem to land on my feet
Feel like it's all going wrong
This shit should make me grow stronger

[Bridge]

It's ok, bad days will come at times
Don't stress it won't last it's only for a minute
All good hard times you'll wonder why
Oh babe you got to be strong
If you gon' win it

Take a deep breath
Face your fear don't be worried
Life is too full it could never be empty
Take a step back
Get a better perspective
Fix up, look sharp, don't be so negative

It's ok
It's alright
It's all good
It's alright

[Bridge]


It's not as good live. But I can't just throw up lyrics, declare the song my saving grace, and expect to call it a night. Can I now?

Better Than A Casino

Oh, Wah! Leave the Hualapai Tribe alone. The White fist of the Sierra Club has, of course, complained about the efforts of this tribe under the guise of keeping the pristine condition of the Grand Canyon intact. Remember people, this tribe was schlepping around that canyon way before your ancestors even thought to put up a gift shop, beat up those poor canyon donkeys, and call it a cultural event.

First, let me explain that I have nothing against the Sierra Club, and I consider myself to be an environmentalist (I try my damnedest anyway), but the Native in me says to these doubters, "Shut Up, You!" With so many tribes turning to casinos as revenue to remedy their problems (thus, creating new ones), the Hualapai are taking it a step further, and better. Plagued by years of poverty, they seek to increase revenue on their native land by building a glass Skywalk which will extend 70 feet out and 4,000 feet above the Colorado River.

STUNNING





Now before you go getting thoughts of unnecessary drilling and fakeness, the Hualapai have kept the skywalk as natural looking as possible, using natural materials, so not to spoil the aesthetics of the canyon. They have also built the structure on a side canyon, out of view. How kick ass is that? Here’s an attraction that will benefit the nature lovers and provide a purpose in life. To enjoy yet another scenic view of a natural wonder, and for the average Joe to be able to walk on Indian land.

Visitors will not only get to know the Hualapai on a much deeper level, they will also (hopefully) get an understanding of tribal history in our country; whilst helping out an actual tribe at the same time. That’s much better than a casino, which will only result in empty pockets, and a low rent laser light show. But I digress. Face it. The last time you saw Native Americans in the Grand Canyon was on the Brady Bunch. And why did Bobby and Cindy bring that poor kid hot dogs and beans anyway? I totally forget now.

So what is it really that you want? To walk on ancient land kept pristine and now available for you to get stunning views while helping out an actual Native tribe? Or, can you still not get over the novelty of tax-free packs of smokes and that charming dream catcher which makes you feel, so…um…“spiritual”?

So, pay out your twenty five bucks, step on board, and dig the scenery. Groovy!

My Own Worst Enemy

Me.

I am my own worst enemy. There I said it. I started this thing with a deep fear that over time I'd end up having nothing to write about. Now, I have about thirty, count 'em, thirty items banked for future posting. This doesn't count the everyday things that occur, or the newsworthy stories that will come up.

Naturally, I've already done myself in. See, I drafted and banked an item about generic street fairs here in the city. Last night, I attended a lecture which addressed this very issue. So, I feel like that proposed entry has dried up and I can't think of posting it in the near future. I discussed another item with H about the silly low rent cable channel commercials of our childhood that I have yet to post here. Collecting dust was an item I wrote about the proposed sale of the Starrett City housing development. Now, that deal has fallen through, so my proposed entry has gone and done the same.

Alright, already! I have to bite the bullet and stop hoarding my entries. Or else I'm doing myself in and defeating the purpose of this blog.

Enough said.

Fitch

I attended a wonderful lecture tonight, which I'll write about soon. However, it looks like I missed this lecture at the Gotham Center.

On the Take: Labor Union Corruption in New York City, Past, Present, Future February 26th, 6:30 - Ninth Floor

Recent scandals are the jumping off point for this forum, in which the new head of the city's Central Labor Council and distinguished scholars ask: How pervasive has labor corruption been in New York City? What has caused it? How does it compare to (or connect with) corruption in business and politics? What has been its impact on Gotham's economy and polity? What to do about it? An important and provocative evening with Ed Ott, Executive Director, New York City Central Labor Council, AFL/CIO; Mike Merrill, Dean, Harry Van Arsdale Jr. Center for Labor Studies, Empire State College; Robert Fitch, author, Solidarity for Sale; and James Jacobs, Professor of Law and Director, Center for Research in Crime and Justice, New York University School of Law, author, Mobsters, Unions, and Feds: The Mafia and the American Labor Movement.

Not that I was the least bit interested. But, one of the lecturers, Robert Fitch, was my Urban Sociology professor. I remember the first day of class when he told us not to bother getting the required textbook, because we wouldn’t need it. His honesty turned out to be the best policy, and I learned why. Professor Fitch was exasperatingly against corruption of any kind. So against it in fact, that most of the class discussion was centered on how mobsters and the FIRE organizations (Finance – Insurance - Real Estate) have destroyed our cities.

I always got the sense that he knew how to keep his opinions on the down low and without much rabblerousing, or else he would have made the journey from the top of the East River into the New York Harbor a long, long time ago. Swimming with fishes is a great mob pastime here. I have to give him credit though, he required us to bring in the Tuesday Metro edition of the NY Times each week to read and discuss the articles in class. It might sound like a babyish task, but he used the articles in his lectures to give us a better scope of the material as it pertained to our daily lives and the sociology of urban communities. I really did learn a lot from him. Another plus was that he hated exams and only did them out of administrative requisite. So, he gave us all the answers to his tests. Imagine taking your midterm and final exams with the answers right there next to you. Imagine!

The hardest assignment Fitch required was our final paper. We students were to choose four settings in the city and report what we observed. The idea was to get an idea how the rich and poor functioned in cities; urban sociology in action. In order to be varied, this had to be a cross-selection of experiences. I chose to visit the (now half defunct) Plaza Hotel for afternoon tea; a community board hearing, and observed both a Manhattan and a London criminal court case in session. Can you imagine visiting another country for a class assignment? Okay, it was tied it into my vacation, but I can now say I did.

I bump into Professor Fitch from time to time at the supermarket. He lives in my neighborhood. And each time he searches my face for clues as to who I am. Each time I gently remind him I was once a student of his.

Cetaphil Score

The thing I love about this city is that you never know when you're going to bump into an opportunity. Case in point - today. I headed towards the subway, while passing the Daryl Roth Theatre, and noticed there was a Cetaphil event taking place inside. Outside were event workers passing out free samples of said products. Once inside, where everyone was welcome, I was given a blue Cetaphil bag containing even more samples.

Once inside, I waited on line to spin a wheel for free products. I ended up winning a full size of Therapeutic Hand Cream! I wish I had won something different, but still, it was nice to walk away with free stuff. I scored tons of free samples, which I love, because I just adore Cetaphil products. That's the beauty of this event; the freebies will get great use.

After I retrieved my prize, I headed over to a hand massage station and received a nice massage with, you guessed it - Cetaphil moisturizer (double duh!). Speaking with the "masseuse", I learned she was actually an event worker and got the job from a company called Event Pro Strategies. I will keep a note of that, in case the urge or need to get involved in marketing arises.

It's always great to come across an unexpected treat.

Barney Greengrass

When I get an idea in my head, I really get an idea in my head.

Such was the case with Barney Greengrass. I got it in me that I just had to have an everything bagel with horseradish cheddar cheese. I figured since I wouldn’t bother to go on the weekend (understand, I’m below 23rd street), I would go yesterday during my regular work lunchtime. Even though they were several miles away from where I work, the subway proved to bring me there quickly. So quick in fact that the stop was around the corner from the place. Even better. Have you ever walked those avenues up there? I’ll keep my downtown compactness any day.

I'd heard the service there was surly at best, so I prepared myself for major attitude. I didn’t get that when I ordered (beginner's luck?). I ordered my bagel with the horseradish cheddar and a slice of tomato. I was surprised and very pleased when the guy behind the counter pulled out a tub that it was a spread and not cheese slices. Had I known this beforehand, I wouldn’t have asked for mayo on it. What I got was heaven, albeit a bit runny due to the mayo. The horseradish cleared my sinuses properly and succinctly. I admit, the combination was a bit weird, but it tasted perfect to me.

While I was waiting for my order to arrive, a man next to me had his beeper go off. I mean, who in the hell still uses beepers these days? Didn’t that go out with personal answering services?

Since I secretly love the Upper West Side (please don’t tell anyone!), it was nice walking around checking out the nabe whilst dodging all the strollers. One thing they have over us down-towners are the multitude of breakfast places available. Man, I miss breakfast places. My neighborhood has them, but not like uptown does. I walked it down to Zabar’s and picked up a slice of their zucchini pizza for tomorrow’s lunch. It proved to be delish! Would you believe that Zabar’s has great pizza? I think so anyway. Also, I couldn’t resist buying a small slice of their cheesecake; perfect for a sweet treat.

So, Barney’s is a nice place to nosh. I wouldn’t recommend going out of my way (like I did), but if you’re in the neighborhood and you're hankering for a hunk of horseradish cheese, there you go!

Wollman Rink Skating Meetup

I love to ice skate, but I rarely get the opportunity to partake. Years ago, I discovered I'm quite the natural. I guess all those years of professional dance and living in roller skates helped me more than I realized. Can't do figure eights, lutzes or salchows, but with tons of training, who knows?

Since none of my friends enjoy skating, I figured I'd join some folks at a Meetup. I was disappointed when I couldn't find my group at the proposed spot, but whatever. Why cry when I can carry on by myself and have a chance to meet other like minded people without a group? So, I headed off to Wollman Rink and set out to skate to my heart's delight. Later, I was to find out that a few others also went it alone because they too couldn't find the group.

After several minutes of clinging to the sides (I did say it had been years!), I gained my momentum and was off. I'm so glad I decided to go in the face of social adversity because I had a blast, and met some wonderful people at the same time. Several were tourists hoping to soak up a NY experience. The others were people looking to have fun, like me. The weirdest moment was when I bumped into a co-worker!

My only regret was I wished I had brought my camera, because the view of the city from the rink is indescribable. You couldn't help but look up every once in awhile, soak it in, and just remember that you are small change compared to what's going on out there. Stunning.

After about two hours, my ankles were feeling chewed up from the skates and I knew it was time to go. The walk from the rink to the street was a bit scary. It's hard enough to navigate Central Park during the day, so you can imagine how much more difficult it is during nighttime. I just chose a lit walkway, and prayed for the best! Remember that scene from the Wizard of Oz after Dorothy retrieves both the scarecrow and the Tin Man? At first it's all bright happy Technicolor and dancing and singing. Then, as they head into the forest, their world closes in around them. That's the experience I had tonight. I walked away from the rink, all lit up with kids shrieking in happiness into complete quiet wilderness. Something hissed at me as I walked by the pond. After I ruled out a mountain lion (hey, it could happen!), I put on my glasses to see (I'm so vain), and realized it was only a couple of raccoons defending their turf.

I decided to continue with the skating Meetup group, but if I never find them, it's no big woop.

Guilty Pleasure # 58

http://www.fodors.com

When it comes to the average everyday traveller, I consider Fodors forum to be a bit more user friendly. One can find just about anything they need or desire, especially in the forum; which is where I am prone to hang out.

Travel need not be expensive nor snooty. Many drives have resulted in fun times and neat discoveries -- right under my nose. You just have to be open minded about your possibilities. To the naysayers out there - admit it, you are just too afraid to leave your home. And that my friends, is very sad.

Roman Historical Relief

A Slide Lecture Presented By:
Dr. Nancy L. Thompson,
Associate Museum Educator, Metropolitan Museum of Art
Mid-Manhattan Library

I attended this lecture tonight at the Mid-Manhattan branch of the NYPL. This branch is diagonally across the street from the head library. The one with the famous lions out front.

I admit I'm not well educated on Roman historical relief, but I'm a firm believer that you don't know unless you give it a try. I knew it was going to be a slide presentation and I have nothing against slides, as I'm a visual person and love looking at historical items. What I didn't expect were the types of people in the crowd that night. There were many there who were, shall we say, the free library lecture types. The thing about culture and the city is that the type of venue sums up the many types of people who will be in attendance. This, I learned tonight. I know that statement reflects on me as well, but, I'm a different kettle of fish all together you know!

Dr. Thompson was incredibly on top of her game while explaining each slide. She was even able to put a certain someone up front in their respective place. This person tried (the operative word here) to dominate the discussion. I got the feeling that Ms. Thompson was either used to this person, or used to this type of person. Kudos to you lecturer, because I despise these kind of people.

Dr. Thompson focused mostly on the following:

Arch of Constantine
Arch of Septimius Severus
Arch of Titus
Trajan's Column
Column of Marcus Aurelius

Although I was tired, the room was a bit on the warm side, and the lecture was longer than expected, I found it educational and enjoyable.

Form Follows Fashion: Isabel & Ruben Toledo

Tuesday, March, 6, 6pm
560 7th Avenue, Parson’s Auditorium, 2nd Floor

Ever since I purchased a most interesting Vogue sewing pattern, I have been intrigued with the designers Isabel and Ruben Toledo. This was probably about 1995-6 when I chose it for a sewing workshop. Vogue features popular fashion designers for their “Attitudes” collection of patterns. The idea is that if you know how to sew, you too can wear Donna Karan or Calvin Klein couture, for a fraction of the price.


The cover of the package for the Toledo featured pattern was mesmerizing and quite different from the other designers who had contributed designs to Vogue. Exquisite pale blue and green light Shantung silk fabric outfits on headless and somewhat fingerless wooden mannequins, it was removed from the commonality of the other Vogue Pattern covers during this period. Sadly, the project ended up being a bit too much for my level of expertise at the time. I had gone a tad bit rusty after being away from the sewing room I seemed to live in during high school. I must have the pattern around somewhere (note to self, look for said pattern), but the memory of that cover combined with the feelings of “yes, I can be that cover” will probably last me a lifetime.

Out of this experience I came to admire the Toledo’s (pronounced Ta-LAY-doe). Over the years, I read blurbs about the two; this husband and wife team, and grew to admire their work and their ingenuity. There is something so raw yet tailored about their art. I don’t know if those are the proper descriptive words, but I still can’t quite put my finger on why I became drawn to them in the first place.

When I visited the Queen Maud of Norway exhibit at the Victoria & Albert Museum in 2005, I came across a brooch that Ruben had designed, which was for sale. In true form, I hemmed and hawed over the purchase (what’s new!), fought all doubts in my brain, and bought the damn thing. Much of my hesitancy was over the fact I don’t wear brooches. I still to this day don’t wear it, but I take it out once in awhile and caress it, pleased that I own a Ruben Toledo piece.

Last month, again, the Toledo’s entered my world. Harper’s Bazaar magazine featured an article about them in their February issue. Isabel was going to head up as creative director for Anne Klein. We would be seeing more of her work. I also learned that she uses her husband’s scrap artwork for thank you notes and his portrait arts as party gifts. I just so want to emulate their lifestyle!

Today, when I arrived at work, my copy of the NY Times UrbanEye daily update was waiting for me in my e-mail inbox. Glancing over it, I discovered that the Toledo’s themselves were to be featured as part of a forum for free at the Parson’s Auditorium – and it was tonight!

When I arrived, I was immediately struck by their beauty and partnership as a couple. We were first shown a 5 minute DVD which showcased a timeline of their work. Afterwards, they discussed their history and future plans. Their conversation flowed insightful and humorous. Both born in Cuba a year a part, they grew up together in New Jersey, where they met in school as young teens. According to Ruben, he knew when he met Isabel that she would become his wife.

Married young, they moved to New York and set out to conquer their dreams. Ruben got his start at the famous Fiorucci store under Andy Warhol. He stressed that he refuses to label himself as just a photographer, illustrator, fines arts, or fashion illustrator; all of which he does. Choosing to not to limit or pigeonhole his artistic abilities.

I came to realize why I admired the Toledo’s. Their tenets, I feel anyway, were somewhat in line with mine; simplicity. Love of technique and natural fabrics instead of showmanship and synthetics, Isabel got her start very young as an intern at the Met Costume Institute under Diana Vreeland, where she was involved in the restoration of garments. Amazed at the attention to detail, she set out to educate herself on the interior of the garment more than the exterior; to know the garment. Because of this, her garments are “all about the inside”, she said. Also, patterns are “thought out and orderly”, and with a “focus on construction”. According to Isabel, she approaches her work like a “mathematical equation”.

The night was exactly what I expected. I sat mesmerized, learning so much more about two people whose work I admired, and their art, but up to then didn’t know much about. I was ecstatic that I discovered this forum and was able to attend.

My only regret was that I didn’t know about this occasion ahead of time so I could search for my Toledo Vogue pattern for her to autograph. Still, it was truly a happy surprise to have found this event.

You can learn more about the Toledo's work here.

365 Holly

Take a gander folks - my cousin has a photo blog.

http://hollys365project.blogspot.com/

I think it's a totally fantabulous idea. She's going to post a photo to her blog each day for 365 days. I swear, H is going to be the next Ansel Adams. You should see what she does with her photos. This site is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to her talent.

Another plus is that she has a gorgeous son who I would run to the ends of the earth for.

I'm so not a good photographer. I did have a fab point and shoot camera ages ago that seemed to take wonderful pictures. But, I'm convinced it was just taking pity on me, or something like that.

How Many Countries Can You Name in 10 Minutes?

I got 69. Not bad, since I'm American and all.

Gadling had a post which featured this interesting quiz. In ten minutes time, you have to name 192 countries that are in the United Nations. The downside is that if you are not a good speller, you are s.o.l. my friend. So I'm guessing that leaves out pretty much any territory that ends in "stan"!

There is also a link on the same page for a quiz you can take to name 252 countries. I'm assuming that 53 are not in the UN.

I even remembered some African countries. However, since I'm not French, I couldn't remember them all (wink).

http://andys.org.uk/countryquiz/

March Shelter Duty

Last night was my night for shelter duty this month. If you remember, the last time it was my turn, the shelter was cancelled for the weekend. It turns out they had been sick. Last night my fellow volunteer was a newbie. I hope she'll return as she appears to be the type to return. She seemed to take everything in stride and she had shelter experience in Texas during Hurricane Katrina.

Turns out, the cool thing was that she's a fashion student at FIT. I always get excited when I have the chance to "talk shop" with someone who is familiar with the business. We both rolled our eyes and laughed with much understanding when she explained that almost everyone in her major expects to become a buyer. It's difficult sometimes being in fashion, especially since I'm not on the retail end of the field. When people find out I'm in fashion, invaribly they think of The Devil Wears Prada, and I have to gently explain that I'm not a part of that aspect. Once I begin to explain overseas production details and sell-thru percentages, the conversation usually comes to a complete halt.

Everything went smoothly except for one guest who seemed so anxious and forgetful. He made up his bed and began to look for his belongings. We pointed out that they were on another bed. He walked over and began making up that bed. We explained that he just needed to bring his belonging over to the bed he originally made up, and this appeared to boggle his mind somehow.

After walking around out of sorts for a bit, he proceeded to try and make yet another bed. Finally, I got huffy and explained that he was to use only the bed he originally made up and that he was only making more work for us by setting up other beds. I got the feeling that he couldn't comprehend the idea that he already picked out his bed. I swear I smelled alcohol on his breath, which would explain his actions; and give me reason to ban him. He appeared non-threatening so I left it as is. I am not one to wield that kind of power so freely.

This guest ended up tossing and turning, and when he was not in his bed, walking around all night. This morning, when we all woke up, we saw that he had already left before everyone else; choosing not to wait for the bus that picks up all of our guests.

I really hope he finds the peace he needs.

Drag Ass Day and Other Sundry

The second I got to work today, I was climbing the walls to get out. I hate slow days because they are just so drag ass. I think not going outside all day also contributed to my cubicle cabin fever.

I think my department has one of those entertainment curses. Like the Different Strokes curse. The Poltergeist curse is more like it. It appears that three salespeople's fathers have passed away in the last year. The third death happened yesterday. Not to mention our new assistant/junior salesperson's father is very sick right now. Bad things happen in three's. I sure hope this is the case, the curse will come to an end, and we can become sane again. Enough!

I connected with some co-workers yesterday over our experiences moving to NYC. Sometimes I get wrapped up in what outsiders have to think about this city and how to survive here that I forget there are millions people like me who have gone through the same thing; and worse. I spoke with my friend J last week. I hadn't talked to her in ages. I filled her in on the recent water woes in my apartment. She assured me she had gone through this at least a ton of times. I then opened up an issue of Time Out NY and saw a question about getting a landlord to fix a leak in the ceiling. Sorry to be cunty, but I have the courage to admit that if you don't live here, your opinions about my living conditions as they apply to yours really don't matter. Snap!

Was so frigging pissed today at La Redoute. I ordered a few tops, and when I entered my shipping address and confirmed the order, it came back to me that it was shipping to my home address. Not where I wanted it to go. Nope. No can do. After I spoke to a few people I was informed that it was impossible to change the order or even cancel it to reorder under the correct address. Bastards!

Got my eyebrows threaded at a place called Bombay Beauty Salon. Don't go thinking I went someplace special. It's always the same set up with the Indian threading salons. Tiny, plain, heavily mirrored and over lighted. There are so many of these places in Midtown it's hard to figure which ones are the pros. I get the feeling that like Europa Cafe, many of them are owned by the same people. Being too lazy to go to my regular spot, I figured that the huge NY Post newspaper clippings promoting the place that hung in the window gave some kind of indication I wouldn't walk out without eyebrows. I'm lucky because I'm so fair, I don't need to go regularly, just once in a great while for a re-shape. Hurts like hell though. Feels like razor blades are skinning across your brow line. Ouch!

Shelter duty tomorrow. I hope that all goes well. The coordinator mentioned that I'll be volunteering with a newbie.