The Hornet knows all

I received a postcard in the mail today from my high school in Illinois requesting my biographical information for a graduate directory. It brought up a question I've thought of from time to time when people get notices for reunions and such; How did they find me? Since graduating from college I have moved nine times. Nine times between three states. I only keep in touch with one person from high school, and she lives in the middle of Australia with her husband, a new baby and emus. She's got better things to do than rat me out. I have no registered phone number. I'm pretty sure most of my friends and family lost the e-mail I sent with my address. The only people who know I'm here are the ones who send me bills every month, and they shouldn't be giving my info to a high school (maybe they do). On top of this, the printed postcard is addressed as 'Lori', which is not my given name, and not how I am ever registered anywhere. So I wonder, how the hell did they find me?

Perhaps our mascot, the Fighting Hornet, is omniscient.

"Yooouuuu cannot say 'f$&*' on your show!"

So last night I was invited by my friend Natasha at work to go to a swanky party. A while back, before I worked there, Iomedia did the visualization for a condo building at the top of Central Park in lower Harlem. Esquire magazine bought the penthouse and had different designers create the individual rooms. They are using it as a party venue. Because we did the work, occasionally the developers can get us on the list for these parties. I was lucky enough to tag along with Natasha and the rest of the crew to this even with Bill Cosby as a special guest.

When we got to the entrance we weren't on the list! Devastating! Didn't they know who we were? They didn't, but took our names down and let us in anyway. Man, is it easy to crash a party. We listened to the shpeal from Bill and others about helping kids in disadvantaged neighborhoods, and then the bar opened. As I was waiting for my drink Bill made his way through the crowd and was 3 feet away from me. I freaked out, there was nothing I could say. Mom told me I should have just said "Hi." Greg said I should have asked if he wanted any pudding. I always have felt that celebrities are just people, but when you are standing next to someone who has influenced multiple generations of comedians and who really seems like a good guy, its hard to think of what to say that won't sound retarded. So I just smiled and let him go.

When we finally got our drinks we toured the apartment, hung out in front of the fireplace on the bi-level terrace and gave a very nice man who works for Esquire a hard time for not giving red velvet cupcakes to Eugene's pregnant wife Allison. Alright, it was Eugene giving him a hard time, and it was funny. Or we were drunk. Maybe both.

As we left the red carpet downstairs was still lit but abandoned, so we took a few red carpet pictures... cause we are such big shots. Here's me making fun of the red carpet poses...


Oh yeah, I could totally be someone, if you didn't already know I was no one.

"Is she like an Egyptian Wonder Woman?"

On Saturday night I went out with some friends to a Halloween party on the Lower East Side. I was so excited because I put a TON of time into my costume this year. I was committed to going as She-ra, and since you can't buy a costume, I had to make mine. With the help of my very crafty friend Natasha, I pulled it off perfectly.

Here's a picture of Shannon and me, she's a Freudian Slip (there's a slip under that jacket).
On the way to meet Shannon a few girls on the street asked if I was Wonder Woman. I said no, I was She-ra. They asked, "Is she like and Egyptian Wonder Woman?" I replied, "No, she's a super hero from the 80s, you guys probably weren't even born yet." To which I was curtly corrected, "Hey, I was born in 89!" Touche.

On the subway a whole car of people again thought I was Wonder Woman. I'm still puzzled by the WW confusion.

Also on the subway one woman recognized the costume and asked to take my picture. That was pretty funny. Oh yeah, I'm somebody now.

Once at the bar there were a bunch of people that recognized She-ra, and they all loved the costume. There were two guys who were dressed as the Dick in a Box guys, and that was pretty good. I stopped to compliment and chat with them but they didn't know who I was. One of them though I was some kind of Grecian superhero... I guess I can see that. But since I decided before going out that I wouldn't entertain any boys who didn't know who I was (because they would be too young), I had to move on.

I had a funny short conversation with a pirate guy as I was waiting for my drink at the bar:
Guy: You're cute!
Me: Thanks.
Guy: So what are you? Other than cute?
Me: She-ra.
Guy: Is that from Chronicles of Narnia?
Me: Um, no.
Guy: Well, you look really cute.
Me: Thanks. *smirk* Bye.

When I turned with my drink there was a guy dressed as a Ghostbuster. He recognized She-ra and we had a little "We love the 80s because we were born before the decade started" moment.

It was a lot of fun seeing all the costumes people had on. There were lots of pirates, Wonder Women, and slutty whatevers. I was pretty slutty too, but that's not my fault... that's just how She-ra rolls.

He's got my vote

I saw a presidential candidate on the street today across the street from my office. He has no shot at winning, but I would vote for him. I walked right past Stephen Colbert. I wish I had stopped to say something, but I never do. I figure that I don't like being bugged out on the street, a celeb must hate it. So I left him alone to continue his conversation.

I must be getting more "New York"... I'm finally starting to recognize celebrities out in the world. Sweet.

Choose Your Own Adventure: Death Edition

I hate science. Just when the science guys convince you that your drinking habit is helping your cholesterol it turns out it's also giving you cancer. Want lower blood pressure? Have some dark chocolate... but you had also better head to the gym to burn off the extra calories. What these dichotomies are basically saying (to me) is that you should choose your vices based on what you would like to die of. Because, let's face it, a life without a few vices is a life not worth living. So you'd be healthy and prolong a really boring existence. Not for me. I'm off to buy some chocolate with liquor in the middle.

I see you, famous dood!

I've been in NY for a year, and I keep missing celebrity sightings (Derek Jeter doesn't count, I was there to see him, it's only a sighting if they are out on the street with the real people). Celebs pass me by, and people tell me, "Hey, that was what's-his-name!" But poof, they are gone. In my second week here Mark Ruffalo sat down right next to me at lunch and I didn't even notice. Michael Kors walked right past Jose and I on the street... didn't see him. But today I finally saw someone. It was someone most people probably wouldn't recognize, but I sure did. As I was buying Halloween candy at Duane Reade I was watching Michael Patrick King direct his people on how to set up the store for an upcoming movie shoot. A Big movie that everyone (at least all the women) in New York are talking about. A movie that is leading to celeb sightings all over town because the city is one of the characters and it would never be filmed anywhere else. Do you know which movie? Michael Patrick King is the producer, writer and sometimes director of Sex and the City, and he was setting up a shot for Friday. For me, he's a big celebrity. Maybe I'll go back on Friday and see if they need any extras!

The fussy litterbug

I was riding the subway the other day, sitting across from a woman and her child, who looked to be around ten years old. They were eating something, not sure what. When the train pulled into the station I watched her unapologetically toss their garbage in the bag outside the door and onto the station platform. I couldn't believe it. I looked right at her. She saw me and just looked away, but not in any way that conveyed she felt badly about what she had done. Then, a few stops later her kid was halfway through a lollipop that he decided he was finished with and she told him to wait until the doors open and toss it out. He got up, waited for the doors to open, and aimed the lollipop right through the gap and dropped it onto the tracks. She praised him for making the shot. I was absolutely amazed.

Now, I get why people litter; they are lazy, they don't care, they don't respect shared space or the city they live in, they have no sense of human decency, etc, etc. But what I don't understand is this: How did she come to the conclusion that it is wrong to litter on the train, but perfectly acceptable on the platform? I continue to be baffled.

Did she, or didn't she?

In fact, I did... meet Derek Jeter. And shared a little giggle with A-Rod. And saw all the other players, coaches, trainers, keepers and security people for the Yankees, and the Toronto Blue Jays for that matter (including Frank Thomas, who used to play for my hometown White Sox). We were camped out for two hours before the game directly outside the door to the Yankees clubhouse, waiting to get the shot of Jeter. The weight room and batting cages happen to be down the hall from there for both teams, so just about everyone walked past. And if I might just make one comment to all of Major League Baseball... nice ass.

Even though I'm not a big sports fan, I have to admit it was pretty cool to be down there before the game... even if I did have to get up early-ish after another night of staying out late drinking. What? It's the New York lifestyle, or something like that. Yeah, I totally turned my brain off again.

As promised, I've posted some new photos to my Out and About in NY album. Some are from when I went walking around with Jerry and Jenna a few weeks ago, but after that are some choice helicopter shots. Enjoy!

Helicopters ARE as cool as you think

I work a lot, but there are a few pretty sweet perks that go along with it. Being the project manager on the Yankee monstrosity has afforded me quite a few. Second row seats to a game, private tour of the stadium, meetings in Steinbrenner's private box. Tonight I got to go up in a helicopter to capture aerial photography. It was pretty awesome. Here I am, with my fancy helicopter headset, having an swell time in really good lighting.


Flying over Yankee Stadium was cool, but the best was flying down to Coney Island to capture dusk shots for another job. It was a beautiful sunset that reflected amazing colors on the water. Even though it was hazy and I wasn't in the best spot for taking pictures I took a ton. A few actually turned out... here are a few of my favorites. I'll be posting more in my NY album over the weekend.

Upcoming perks: Meeting Derek Jeter this weekend to film him at the stadium and possibly meeting Billy Crystal in the near future for a similar reason. I'm sure DJ is a swell guy, but if I get to meet Billy Crystal I'll be a puddle of goo. It will take everything I have not to spout out every single line from my favorite movie of all time. It's bound to be embarrassing.

Brain off

I've been working a lot lately. Way too much. Most nights I'm in the office late, checking in at home, and then working at least a few hours each weekend day, if not for an entire day. Somehow its easier to work 10 hours if you can do it with Sex and the City on the TV. Of course you have to really like Sex and the City. (How could Carrie have cheated on Aidan? That bitch drives me crazy in season three.)

The reason behind my pseudo-complaining about work is this; while I definitely feel overworked, I also feel like I'm having a lot of fun (read: drinking a lot). I realized today I don't have a ton of the down time I used to when I would just kick it on the couch and watch my ex-TV Boyfriend. I'm either ramped up working or ramped up drinking, with not a lot in between. And I'm not having just a glass or two of wine like I used to. I'm drinking for mileage. It's like I'm trying to cram all the fun into the few hours I have, and I'm not making wise decisions.

Case in point: Jenna invited me to a BBQ at her friend Kathleen's on Saturday. I've been to another one and loved everyone there, so I shut down the computer for the afternoon and scheduled some fun time, fully expecting to be back home and working by 9pm. Um, yeah, that didn't happen. I was drinking sangria all day and was then very easily coerced into playing Flip Cup by a bunch of Aussies with cute accents. Freakin' foreigners. It doesn't really matter how you play, but it does involve way too much cheap beer. PBR and Bud Light to be exact (what is with me and drinking beer lately?). I was hammered, and I had absolutely turned my brain off at some point. Sometime before Flip Cup for sure.

Apparently this is how I've fallen into dealing with stress these days. Probably not the best solution, but it could be worse. I haven't completely fallen apart... I still eat well and make it to the gym to run and bike my ass off (literally; my skinny jeans from last year are now my "relaxed fit" jeans... sweet). My body used to remind me that I was stressed by creating painful stomach aches, in case I had forgotten for a second that the world was falling down on me. That sucked, so this is much better.

So, if you end up with strange text messages from me in the coming month, I haven't actually lost my mind, I've simply turned my brain off. It'll be back on the next morning when you are welcome to call and make fun of me. Just don't laugh too loudly into the phone.

Driven to drink

It's Saturday afternoon, and I'm taking a break from work to write this post. That's right, it's Labor Day weekend and I'll be working at least today, if not tomorrow as well. The Reason: The Yankees. Right now the project is flying wildly out of control, and I've got to pull it back together. The only time I actually have to do this is after work hours when people aren't constantly asking for stuff. So I'll be organizing like a mofo this weekend.

This project has quite a cast of characters, one of which is the interior designer, who is a very nice man... but couldn't take longer to make a point. Andy and I were on a conference call with him yesterday for an hour and a half that should have taken 45 minutes max. At this point in a very long week I was tired of working and Andy was just plain old tired. Delirium had set in and we were acting quite silly on our end of the line. He went and got a beer, ugh Corona, and was entranced by the bright green color it turned when he put it in front of the projector. I left shortly after and returned with an Amstel Light. That's right people, the Yankees have driven me to drink... beer. And I wasn't even drunk first. Armageddon is clearly upon us.

Best... Birthday... Ever

I'm exhausted, but I can't sleep. It's nearly 12:30 am Sunday night/Monday morning as I type this. I've spent the past hour going through pictures from the amazing birthday weekend I just had. I find I can't stop looking through the pictures. I turned 30 on Friday, but the fun began on Wednesday night when I treated myself to a new haircut and color. I have always wanted blue hair of some kind, and I finally mustered the courage to do it. I darkened most of my hair, and put in a panel just under the crown of very rich midnight blue. It looks amazing, I've never loved my hair more. Thursday was fun at work where I got many different reactions. People are staring at me on the subway. I didn't do it for the attention, but it is fun to watch.

Friday, the birthday, was a busy day at work and I wasn't even able to answer most of the birthday calls that came in. I was truly touched at all the heartfelt and funny messages people left. The day flew by and before I knew it I was in my apartment with Jenna, waiting for Kristen to arrive from Chicago. She was only an hour late, which is considered on time for air travel these days. Starving, we went to a very fun Turkish restaurant in Park Slope. I was so happy to be spending the night with one of my oldest friends and one of my newest, both of who mean the absolute world to me. It would turn out that the three of us would be together for much of the entire weekend to come.


Saturday morning we went to brunch with Jerry and Jenna at this great diner called Tom's Restaurant. It's the kind of place where you actually wait in line to get in, but the entire time they are bringing food and drinks around. There was water, coffee, cookies, sausage and orange fourths. Once we got in the food was absolutely amazing. It is definitely a must visit brunch spot for all future visitors. And here are the girls, sharing a chocolate egg cream...


Saturday was a really hot day, but Kristen wanted to see the city so Jenna and I took her on a walk over the Brooklyn Bridge. We took lots of fun pictures, even though it was hazy. From there we walked to TKTS to get half price Sunday matinée tickets to see The Drowsy Chaperone. We planned to take the Staten Island Ferry just for the boat ride, but we missed it by two minutes and ended up in Battery Park. Which turned out to be really nice. Hot as we were, when we stumbled across a fountain a bunch of kids were playing in we couldn't help but join them. I would have been soaking wet if it weren't for my new blue hair, as it still runs blue when it gets wet!

Now as I write it's Monday night. That day went by fast, didn't it? I finally succumbed to the tired last night. Which leaves me to talk about the big party Saturday night. It was amazing. I was so incredibly happy to be surrounded by all my fabulous New York friends. The only one missing was Megan, but she was excused because she and her boyfriend Paul got engaged the night before out on Long Island. So it was perfectly acceptable that they were missing, although they certainly were missed.

We started the night at Wined Up, my favorite place for an after work bottle of wine and fondue. There's just no better way to erase a bad day than with a good Meritage and a vat of melted cheese. But that's another post. Back to the party. It was like my own little tasting. We ordered a bunch of different wines and I got a glass of each. I had three glasses in front of me at all times. And everyone else was doing the same. We closed the place down (I think) and went to another bar called Flatiron Lounge at 1am. We lost some people at this point. We closed Flatiron at 3am, or maybe 4am (I think) and at this point we were down to four revelers... me, Andy, Ashwan and Matt. Ashwan led the way to the next bar, which I couldn't name and couldn't find again if I had a gun to my head. I was just being led around by the boys. I'm pretty sure we closed this place down but I have no idea what time. I was hungry so we went to a diner, at which point we lost Ashwan very suddenly. So it was down to Andy, Matt and I having burgers at 5am. In the cab on the way home it was getting light outside and I can't remember the last time I was home at dawn.


The next morning, after three hours of sleep I woke up at 10am ready(ish) to show Kristen around Brooklyn. We walked to have a great brunch and then walked around Prospect Park. Afterwards we got ready and headed to see The Drowsy Chaperone with Jerry and Jenna in Times Square, which I despise with the passion of a thousand suns, but is a necessary evil if you like Broadway shows. The show was an absolute blast, and our seats were wonderful. Kristen even got me to pose in the middle of Times Square... this is how much I love her.


But the day wasn't done yet. We went out for dinner in Union Square, and unfortunately I had to stop into work for an hour while Kristen walked around exploring and taking a bunch of great quintessential New York City photos. Afterwards we went for ice cream in Brooklyn and our butts finally hit the couch around 8pm at which point we only had the energy to look at our pictures and watch some episodes of my TV boyfriend's show. We were so tired, but even then I was wired, which brings us to the beginning of this post last night.

Many thanks to everyone who made my 30th birthday weekend the super-duper amazing technicolor party that it was (especially Kristen and Jenna, I love you both so much). This includes all my amazing friends and family from Chi Town who couldn't be here but still gave a phone shout out. My weekend could have only been better if all of you were able to be here in New York!

So, yeah, awesome birthday... and a weekend I'll never forget... at least what I remember of it.

Turns out, 30, not so old

I've been 30 for nearly 8 hours now, and I've got to tell you, doesn't feel much different. Granted, I've been sleeping for 7 of those hours, but still. I will say that there is a general feeling of awesomeness, but I felt that way yesterday, and a few days before, and pretty much since I moved to New York and found my job and a slew of amazing friends. I guess this is what it feels like to be happy with your life. Sweet.

The birthday well wishes may commence.

Birthday Baklava is back!

This weekend my mom managed to make it out to visit me. It was quite a trek for her to get here. I think between the time she spent in the airport trying to get here 3 weeks ago, and the time she spent this past Friday, it was a greater total time than she actually spent in New York itself. We had a great time while she was here, but the to and fro was really a hassle for her. Freaking LGA.

While she was here we went to the Whitney Museum for a special exhibit on the art of the psychedelic 60s. It was a really cool exhibit. Our favorite was taking pictures in the felt rainbow room thing because of the fluid shapes and colors. I'm really not sure how to describe it. Below is a cool picture of Mom , and I've posted more in my NY Visitors album from the weekend, so you can get an idea there.


We also went shopping to Bloomingdales where I was very successful in finding two pairs of new jeans, which was quite a triumph for me. I actually had a few pairs to choose from, whereas I usually just buy the single pair that doesn't make me cry. I attest my big win to two things; stepping up my workout to running and biking every time I'm at the gym, and the selection in the store. Megan was right all along, it really is the best jeans department I've ever seen.

Saturday night we went out for dinner at a Moroccan restaurant in Park Slope, which was amazing. We had some wine beforehand, a big glass with dinner and some port with desert, compliments of the owner for my birthday. I also saw the return of Birthday Baklava! Last year I regaled you with my story of Birthday pie. But there have also been many instances of Birthday Baklava. For some reason a bunch of years ago we got in the habit of having my birthday dinner in Greek town in Chicago, so I would order a piece of baklava as desert. It always makes me laugh when it comes with a candle, and who doesn't love Baklava?

Sunday we had brunch at a wonderful Irish bar, I was full the entire day. Oh, so full. We got tickets to see Curtains on Broadway, which was just wonderful. It is just one of those fun comedy musicals that you can't help but feel leaving good. Then it was off to dinner with the NY Family, Jerry and Jenna, at one of my favorite restaurants.

Even though it was hard for Mom to get here I'm glad she was able to. It was a really fun pre-birthday weekend in the city. And now I have rockin' jeans to wear to the big party on Saturday. Sweet.

Chicago, you're TOTALLY OUTRAGEOUS!!!

Get ready Chicago, you are about to play host to the hottest conference of the year. In just over a month the city, or at least the Springhill Suites Marriott - Chicago/O'Hare, will be bustling with the world's craziest fans. That's right, it's JemCon 2007!

For any of you thinking this is a conference showcasing rubies, sapphires and topaz, you would be wrong. Really, really wrong. It is, indeed, the third annual conference for fans of Jem, the animated series and Hasbro dolls from the 80s. The first conference in 2005 in Minneapolis was attended by over 50 (that's right, 50!) Jem fans, vendors and collectors. The sky's the limit this year. Could get crazy, there could even be 100 people in attendance, singing and dancing on top of a pink guitar shaped stage.

Personally, if I could make it into town for "Showtime in Chicago!" I would want to be part of the scheduled panel discussion; "Triangle Built for Two: Does Jem/Jerrica/Rio work?" I feel pretty strongly that it doesn't, but only because Rio was always hitting on my Barbie dolls, and Pizzazz was always hitting on Rio, and Jem/Jerrica felt pretty hopeless about the whole thing. It just can't work out between them.

While you are on the site make sure to check out all the newest Jem fashions. Apparently Jem got sick of her trendy 1985 clothes and got herself back on the updated fashion track. Oh, no wait, that doesn't seem to be the case.

In case any of you are wondering how I might have stumbled upon this fabulous piece of information, it's not that I'm a closet Jem fan. I don't have Jem dolls in my closet. I don't. It might, just might, have something to do with Halloween.

I've definitely narrowed the costume idea down to something from my 80s childhood, coming off the success of Punky Brewster two years ago (sadly last year I didn't get to dress up). I was batting around a few other ideas, but now that I've discovered this insane online Jem community of freaks, I must say I'm a little sucked in. Now I just have to choose who to be... any votes?

More from Yankee Stadium

Okay, I'm not in this picture because I'm the one taking the picture... but here is most of Team IOMEDIA:From the back: Newest Guy Jason (awesome second day on the job), Simon, Chris, Mark, Steve, Andy, Blanka, Alex (up high), Johann, Rosanie, Justin and another Chris. Love my team!

More Yankee fun times

This morning I headed back up to Yankee Stadium again, this time to take reference pictures for our renderings. I went with my architecture partner in crime, Andy, and our boss, Eugene. While we were there we got to walk through the players tunnel into the dugout, which was pretty cool. We also got to hang out in the dugout.

And stepped a little on to the field, even though we weren't really supposed to...

And I made a huge fool of myself just after this picture was taken. There was a tour going through, exiting in front of us, and Eugene pointed out a guy wearing a Cubs shirt. Without thinking, obviously, I shout "GO CUBS!!!" Oh holy Zeus, it was loud. I heard the echo come back at me. Soooo embarrassing. I was rightly taunted the entire way home by Eugene and Andy, who then made it the first order of business at our architecture production meeting to share my little outburst with all the artists. My new nickname is now GC, for Go Cubs. In an office of men, I guess it could be much worse.

The funny thing is that I'm not even a baseball fan. I root for both the Cubs and the White Sox, but I barely ever see either of them. I was just so excited to see a hometown shirt. Although I do have to say, spending all this time up at the stadium is making me a bit of a Yankee fan, but don't worry Chicago, I'll always root hometown first!

More cool Yankee pics to come tomorrow as everyone working on the project is being taken on a private tour of the entire stadium by their lead historian. I can't wait to get a picture of all of us together in the dugout!

Why it always pays to be the one with the camera

Because you can take pictures of your drunk friends and post them to your blog.

Jenna feeling herself up... Kate was surprised, but not nearly as surprised as when Jenna moved over to feeling her up next. Be happy Kate, the girls got rave reviews.

Harris' reaction when asked how newly married life is. Clara seems fine.

Sorry Jerry, but you wanted more pictures on the blog. Lets hope we get many more like this in two weeks at my birthday party... unfortunately I'm pretty sure I'll be the one making a fool of myself that night.

Lookin' for a fight

On the subway tonight I saw one of the classic New York characters, "Strung Out Avenger Looking For a Fight." As I boarded the train a woman wanted to sit in an empty window seat that was tricky to get into. Truth be told, the guy sitting on the end didn't do much to help her out. Really, he didn't move at all, not even the leg swing or the bag shift. And then the Strung Out Avenger Looking For a Fight (SOALFF) made his presence known.

He began his taunting by asking, "What's wrong with you man?"

This is where Inconsiderate Finance Guy (IFG) made his first mistake by replying, because he didn't hear what SOALFF said, "Sorry?"

And so it began. "Yeah, you are sorry." SOALFF got into it. How dare he not stand up for a lady? How could he be so disrespectful of women? Slur I can't repeat. When he stopped for a few minutes his foot would stomp and his leg would shake and he was right back in on the guy with the lecture about how to treat women right.

"You always get out of your seat for a woman. You better start respecting women. You ain't nothing but a bitch. BITCH! That's right, bitch, I know you can hear me. You ain't reading. You're hearing me. You know you're a bitch." Slur I still can't repeat.

He stopped for a little while again, muttering to himself and darting his gaze all around the train, looking over the top of his dark sunglasses. Stomping his foot when you just know he got all pissed about it again. He continued to mutter to himself mostly for most of the ride into Brooklyn. But just before he rushed off the train he made sure to finish his point, "You had better not be disrespecting women ever again because next time someone's gonna kick your ass, bitch [slur]."

The entire time I was pretty sure this was actually going to escalate to a fight. SOALFF was real jittery and definitely looking to get into it. His comments were far more colorful and full of expletives than I've recorded here. The only thing that stopped it was IFG just ignoring him the entire ride. Had he engaged this guy past his initial reply it would have been over. I'm pretty sure I read a chapter of my book on the ride home, but I can't remember a word of it because I was way too involved in listening to the rantings of SOALFF. Usually you don't see those guys until the sun goes down, it was quite amusing.

Oh New York, you saucy minx

Last week I was convinced that NY was totally and hopelessly in love with me. The City has made me so happy this past year, and then gave me that wonderful Yankees game anniversary present. I thought everything was going swimmingly. But you know how relationships can be sometimes... hot and cold. Today, NY really surprised me. I should have known better, I know The City really well, I knew deep down it had problems. Way below the surface it was hiding something devastating. That's right, NY has a problem with... gulp... infrastructure.

It rained this morning. A lot. Something like three inches in a half hour. Although that number was only 2.5 this morning so I think there's some telephone thing going on there. Either way, it was a lot of rain in a short time. I was determined to have a good day. I was up early, I felt good, I was ready to get in to work and get jamming. When I got to the subway station everyone was coming up, not down. The minorly helpful MTA worker only knew how to say one thing, "No trains at this station, all trains are running at Atlantic Avenue." So I walked a half mile in rain boots to mega-station, Atlantic Avenue. When I got there everyone was above ground, because, as it were, there were absolutely no trains running because the tunnels were all flooded. With no MTA workers on site I hear people talking about how to get in the city: multiple buses, walking over the bridge, and just going home to shower and try later. I was about to walk back home when Jerry called to see where I was. He suggested at least we could walk over the bridge together. Sure, why not, I'm already completely drenched in sweat, what could a brisk walk through Brooklyn, over the Manhattan bridge and probably all the way to work hurt?

So we met up and off we went. I think it took about a half hour to get to the bridge. We were drenched in sweat. Just before getting to the bridge I remembered there was an F train stop right nearby. We figured since it was one of the few trains that doesn't go through Atlantic Ave. it might actually be running. We got down to the station and sure enough, a train was already pulling up. It was tight, but had air conditioning! So happy!

As the train got into Manhattan it became more crowded. It was easily the most crowded train I've ever been on. This chick with thick blonde hair was crushing against me, I had to turn my head to not breathe her hair in. The guy packed behind me was somehow still trying to read the paper. As we were stopped at West 4th street an R train pulled in on the express track. People getting off said it was a B express. Since Jerry was heading all the way up to midtown, he bolted on to that train.

I somehow made it to work by 9am, before almost everyone in the office. Long before people actually coming from elsewhere on the island. Of course I was soaked in sweat, but luckily I keep a pair of shorts in the office for when the air conditioning breaks with no notice. So I put on those shorts and looked ridiculous all day. Jerry called me at 9:45 to say he finally made it to his office. Apparently the B express not only stopped at every stop, but also just stopped for a while. He may have been better off on our original local F, but who knows.

So I've had my hell commute in hot, humid, gross NY summer weather. It could have been worse, would have been if we hadn't thought to try for the F train. But still, it's going to take a little time before I forgive New York, because that sure was a dirty trick.

One year and counting

Can you believe I've already been in New York for a year? I guess that's not really a lot of time, but it is one of those time periods that people take note of. Birthdays, anniversaries, parole hearings... cause for reflection. And as I reflect on the year I've spent in New York a few things come to mind:

• I like this city more every single day. It will wear you down, steal your soul and destroy your faith in air conditioning, but at the end of the day anything can happen here. Any day. When I leave the apartment in the morning I'm never surprised anymore where I end up and who I end up with (more on this feature later).
• I like living alone here. I came here with someone I was expecting to live with for a while, and that didn't work out. At the time it was heartbreaking because it's what I thought I really wanted. Back in Chicago I hated being single. But here, not so much. I'm delighted living on my own and experiencing this city however I so choose. I go out with who I want, come home when I want and pass out drunk in the middle of the bed again.
  
• I love my New York family. In NY people don't see their actual families as much as they do elsewhere, so they create very close knit groups of friends and seem more open to letting new people in. At least, this is my theory. Whatever it is, I've made some very close friends very quickly here, and I love all of them so much. You know who you are.
  
• I'm finally happy with my career. Sure, I had to start over and take a leap of faith that I would find a job here, but it was worth it. Things are still in flux, but it's looking like I've finally moved into something that keeps me in the creative realm but also makes use of all my marketing and communication skills from my past life. And I love the company I work for. Many of the aforementioned friends can be found here, so it makes for a great work environment. Dysfunctional, but great.
• I do still miss Chicago. New York is fabulous, but Chicago will always be the gold-standard. My family is there. My oldest friends are there. Oberweis ice cream is there. Garbage is stored in cans in the alleys. The heat in the summer doesn't make you want to kill yourself. Snowstorms don't shut down the city. Strangers are nice. Da Bears. Wrigley Field. The Bean. The Lake. A lifetime of memories. Yeah, Chicago is still #1 in my book, and I'm sure I'll be back, it just might be a lot longer than I thought. But that's okay, Chicago will always be there, an oasis of awesome in the middle of the country.

And now, bragging time. On Wednesday, I was surprised with a very cool perk from one of my clients, The Yankees. I was joking about my embarrassment at the White Sox's 16-3 loss from the night before when my contact asked if I would like to go to the game that night. "Hell yeah!" was my response. I brought Andy, the new guy from London. He's never been to a baseball game and I thought he would have the most fun. We got to the stadium and when we picked up the tickets at the executive entrance the guy asked us to follow him and he would escort us to our seats. Holy hell, we were being escorted... these were going to be good. We entered behind home plate, and kept walking towards the field. Closer and closer. I was looking at Derek Jeter's ass. Our tickets were second row behind the plate. We were both in shock. We spent a fortune on food and drinks that we ordered from our seats that came right to us. We had hot dogs and peanuts and beer, just like you should have at a baseball game. I might have snuck in a cosmo first, but that's only because I have to have something taste good before I can switch to beer.

It was an amazing night, and I had no idea it was coming until the very end of the work day. Of course, it was the one time I didn't have my camera with me. I was kicking myself. Andy made sure to send a picture message to our boss saying "wish you were here." He he. He's going to fit in well at the office.

I considered the game my one-year anniversary present from New York City. Happy Anniversary New York, I heart you too.

Manhattan Bridge to Manhattan

This past Saturday I was helping out a new co-worker by showing him around Brooklyn. He just moved here last week from London, wasn't crazy about the apartments his broker was showing him in Manhattan, and had no idea Brooklyn was even habitable. So he came out to Brooklyn and we walked around. A lot. The tour ended in DUMBO, which as a neighborhood I hate, but afforded me this beautiful view of the Manhattan Bridge with the Empire State Building in the distance. Sweet.

And this one too.

After leaving Brooklyn we went to Union Square to meet up with with Jerry and his friend Mikey, who I loved so much I want to steal him and make him my newest non-boyfriend boyfriend. Don't worry Jerry, you could never be replaced!

While in Union Square we saw this lady.

If you can't read the sign it says, "Tired of prostitution. Need money. Please help." Ah, New York.

I've been a bad girl

And I have been scolded. It did not go beyond Jerry's notice that I haven't been blogging so much recently, and he teased me so relentlessly that I cried. Okay, I didn't cry. I laughed and promptly told him to shut his pie-hole. But I do really need to update my public on what's been going on with me. I know you don't want to find out from Perez Hilton.

I managed to snake the two days after the 4th of July off of work so I flew home on July 3rd to spend some quality time with friends and family. There was no traffic going to LaGuardia, I flew through security, got on a much earlier flight and made it home in time to see these:

YEAH!!! Chicago fireworks!! Sweet! Great show as always, I was happy to catch it. And I got to hang out with these two crazy love birds. You might recognize them as the people most recently seen in fancy clothes with lots of crystal and gift certificates.

I had a low-key 4th of July with the newlyweds, my cousin Tony, my Aunt Janye and Uncle Tom. We ate, gabbed and played the world's longest game of bocce ball. I also set Aunt Jayne up with her very first e-mail account... but I've received no messages so my guess is she forgot how to use it. I'll have to call to bug her about it.

On the 5th I spent the morning with my friend Jen who used to kick people with me (we took Taekwondo together once upon a time). I got to see the progress she and her husband Marshall have made on their fixer-upper house in Elmhurst. Then I headed downtown to speak to a class of students at my old design school. It was pretty fun to explain what I do for a living these days, and they actually seemed interested. I think their teacher Duffy, now a friend of mine, may have puffed my reputation up a little! After that, drinks with mom who had a bad day and needed a martini. Who am I to stop her?

On Friday Mom took the day off and we went through the entire house and I told her what needs to be thrown out, how to rearrange the furniture when it gets moved from the condo, and what she can do to make it easier to sell. After that we ran errands to pick up things to accomplish this task, and then got mani/pedis. It was really nice just to hang out. I miss being able to just spend time with her, and it doesn't have to be something special. We have fun no matter what we do.

Then I was off to Kristen's house to meet up with her, her date Ethan, and Harley where we took the el up to Wrigley Field to see a bunch of old guys...

Yeah, it was awesome. Kristen and I were trying to "go with the flow" and we planned to just show up and buy tickets that night. The word around town was that there was a glut of tickets people expected to sell at a profit and not only were they not moving, but the concert hadn't even sold out (Thursday night had, but Friday hadn't). So we got up there, got some dinner, figured people would be throwing tickets at us shortly after the concert started at 7 with the opening act. Um, yeah, not the case. Apparently everyone in the city had our same thought and by the time we got back to the stadium tickets for sale were going for double, and they weren't many of them. So at 8 we ended up buying tickets from the box office. Spent a little more than any of us wanted too, but we got in and the show was a lot of fun. I think we only missed 2 songs, but we heard them from outside the stadium anyway. Of course all this just affirmed Kristen and my firm belief that planning is always best! Can't fight nature.

Saturday was brunch with my friend Monique at Wishbone, Chicago staple. We met working at an Internet company when the Internet Bubble was still full of hot air. It burst, we both went separate work ways but always remained friends. I hadn't seen her since I left Chicago and it was wonderful to catch up. After that I went back out the burbs for a little outlet shopping with Mom and dinner with her and Homer. Then I somehow got my ass back in the car at 10pm to go back into the city to see Melissa and Scott. They had a wedding earlier so we had to hang late. I just pretended I was still on NY party time. Because Melissa and Scott are awesome we laughed all night telling stories and catching up. They are getting married in less than two months now and they aren't crazy at all. At least not any more crazy than they ever were. Perhaps they just hide it well...

Sunday morning I had brunch with Jeff, my ex-boyfriend from San Diego who now lives in Chicago again with his new girlfriend who we all used to work with together at the aforementioned Internet company where Monique also worked. PHEW, that was a mouthful! We are friends now, obviously, and enjoyed the opportunity to catch up. He may even play a little golf with Homer since they are both looking for new golf buddies. After that it was back out to the burbs to hang out with Mom and Homer, and their children, Duke the dog and Damon the cat. Mixed families can be difficult, but this one seems to be working out. Duke is as stupid a dog I've ever seen, and Damon is really smart. So you can imagine, the smaller of the two makes the rules in that house. And here is my big boy Damon, king of the house, hanging out on a lawn chair in the sun, overlooking his kingdom and his subjects.

Back to work I went on the first flight out Monday morning. Since then it's been a flurry of meetings and prep work for this one enormous client. In my downtime I've been painting my apartment, attempting to get back to some kind of regular workout schedule, and managed to sneak out to see Jerry and Jenna twice over the weekend. Oh yeah, and I spend a lot of time with my new favorite past time, complaining endlessly about the heat index in this damn city. It's unreal.

Creeps are at Home Depot

You know how it's fun to watch crime shows because those things never seem to happen to anyone you know? Have you ever wondered how close you've come to being a victim? As a single woman who has lived alone in either Chicago or New York for the better part of the past 10 years I am always conscious of my security and surroundings. So far I've been safe. But something happened yesterday that reminded me that creeps are indeed living in my world and not just on Law & Order SVU.

I went to Home Depot to get paint and supplies to put the finishing touches on my apartment yesterday. I've carried a few heavy things home from Home Depot on the subway, but four gallons of paint was past even my stubborn limit. I called a car service (which are the cabs in Brooklyn) and was waiting outside the exit for them to arrive. After I had been waiting for about ten minutes a white van with only porthole windows pulled up to me. This guy looked creepy. He rolled down his window and asked, "Want me to drive you?" I replied with clear caution in my voice, "No, thanks." He asked, "Are you sure?" "Yeah, I'm sure," I replied in a very stern, get-the-hell-away-from-me-because-I-know-you-are-a-cretin tone. He tried one last time as he started to pull away, "Really?" "Yeah, really." He pulled away slowly, as if I might change my mind.

My guess is that this guy had been driving around the parking lot for a while before approaching me. Had to see that I was waiting alone. Since I generally look younger than I am, was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, and had no make-up on I'm sure he assumed I was actually quite a few years younger. Obviously he thought that I might be stupid enough to get in that van with him, or that it was at least worth a try.

I wouldn't label this exchange a close-call by any means. I was in a very crowded place and there is no way I would ever get into some stranger's van willingly. I wasn't in danger for even a second. But it sure was creepy.

Cats in Dog Suits; The Truth Revealed!

Since the beginning of this teacup pup trend I've called the mini-pooches "cats in dog-suits." It's been funny, usually pulls a laugh. But today, I found proof that it might actually be true. I was leaving TJMaxx, happy with the new decorations I had chosen for my Epiphany Bathroom (more on this later), when I was walking towards a woman with a little grey poodle. It was sitting in the basket of the cart, and when she picked it up to put it in it's little roller-mesh-cage-thingy it hissed. The poodle hissed. It was the strangest hiss I have ever heard, but it was definitely a hiss. So apparently, the joke is on everyone, they really are cats in dog-suits.

Photos photos everywhere!

Many of you have already gotten notice that the photos of my mom and Homer's wedding are released and ready for you to enjoy and go broke purchasing. You can find all of them on Pictage. You can also see a beautiful slideshow created by the photographer, complete with pretty music. Lastly, I have created a Flickr group where people can add all their photos from the weekend to one photo pool for everyone to view. So far it's just my pictures, but I hope more people will be adding theirs to the mix.

Enjoy!

Grown-up book report

I have a bone to pick with Emily Giffin, the writer of the book Baby Proof. But first...

Most of my readers already know my stance on kids. They are fine; we have to have them for continuation of the species, and I even like some of them (my cousins seem to pop out some mighty cute ones). But they aren't for me. The desire to non-produce puts me in a major minority, but it doesn't mean there's anything wrong with me. For years I've endured all-knowing remarks from family and friends who are all certain I'll change my mind when I meet The Right Guy. Oh yes, how could I forget? The Right Guy is out there somewhere. The man who is so physically, intellectually and emotionally gifted that our bond of love creates a force such that can't help but be shared with the world in the form of new genetic material left behind to carry on the legacy of our joined selves. The man who will be so perfect that what I want for my life no longer matters.

Hooey. Serious, serious hooey.

Such is the topic of above mentioned book, Baby Proof. Claudia is an attractive, intelligent, successful New York woman who doesn't want to be a mother. Right around my age she resigns herself to living her life as she wants, content that she may not ever find The Right Guy, and she's okay with that 'cause she has family, friends and New York City as her playground. Chapter One, Claudia is someone I want to hang out with. Of course she does find a man named Ben who is also attractive, intelligent and successful and doesn't want kids. They fall madly in love and marry. A few years in, he changes his mind, and decides he wants to be a father and they divorce. Chapter Two, my greatest fear realized, marrying The Wrong Guy. The rest of the book tells the story of Claudia trying to move on, trying to be okay with living the "New York as my playground" life again, and questioning her decision not to have kids with who she thought was The Right Guy.

And it's a great read. Giffin writes a page-turner of a chick-novel, which I think is pretty hard to do. These are not usually the types of books I engage in, but I couldn't put it down. Then I got to the very end, and became really, really annoyed. (If you plan to read the book and don't want to know the end, stop reading, cause I'm definitely going to spoil it.)

Claudia comes to the realization that she can't live without Ben. That he really is The Right Guy and she makes the decision to have a baby with him in order to get him back. You get the feeling that she's softened a little about having kids, but still would rather not. I wouldn't even call her on-the-fence about it, she's still pretty firmly on the No Kids side. She arranges to meet Ben for lunch to tell him. But before she can, he blurts out that she is The Right Woman and he will happily give up having children if he could just be with her again, because he couldn't imagine having a child with anyone else on earth. The moral of the story: Love Triumphs All.

I adore Shakespeare, the king of Love Triumphs All, but I think even the bard would have had Romeo and Juliet part ways if they couldn't agree on a family life. "Juliet, put down the dagger. Romeo, lay off the poison. There's someone better out there for each of you. You're only teenagers for chrissake!"

Here is why I have a big problem with this ending; no one should have to compromise on the choice to have or not have children. For as strongly as most people want to have kids, this is how strongly I don't. Having children is an amazing thing that should never be denied to anyone who wants to do it. From what I'm told it is fulfilling beyond words. But only for those who choose it. For me (and I'm assuming there are a few others like me out there), having children isn't a source of fulfillment, and we shouldn't be denied the choice not to have them. I realize I am posing the argument in black and white, when there are a bunch of people out there in the grey who could go either way and be happy. Many of these people are happy they had families in the end. Some are not.

My point is this: I would NEVER ask someone to give up having children if they want them, and I would NEVER tolerate someone asking me to have children knowing I don't want them. This is not a compromise situation, and it's a lifelong choice. I do believe that almost anything can be compromised on without regret and resentment, but this is one of the few that cannot.

So the book ends with them back together, and Claudia never told Ben that she was willing to have a child. At least it wasn't written in the book. You don't really get a sense of whether they will or not. They are happy back together and the future seems shiny and bright. But would I ever love to see the sequel when he starts resenting her for not having a kid, so she has a kid to preserve the marriage, and then resents him for the rest of their lives because she had to have a kid for him and they are now both stuck in an unhappy marriage. Or maybe they get divorced and at holidays buy the kid gift certificates for a lifetime of therapy. Good times, good times.

Urine for a chuckle

Those of you with gmail know that there is a bar at the top of your inbox that not-so-randomly shows sponsored links and web clips. Today I got a link to this product. I realize that people with pets do often have the need to remove urine from time to time... but the product name is just too funny. And the web page is bright yellow. How can you take it seriously?

Take note, it gets surfaces "black light clean" for all you CSI addicts and misguided teenagers who think black lights are cool.

Magical Mystical Model

This morning I'm waiting for the train, trying to figure out why this particular morning is filled with happy smooching couples making me sick every 20 feet. I settle on the fact that they've probably spent an entire happy smooching couple weekend together and can't seem to break the mood until the very last second when the subway tears them apart and whisks them off to work. And then the Magical Mystical Model appears.

Amidst the dank, hot, grey-toned, gunk-stained subway station the MMM appears looking fresh as a daisy in her little flowy white dress (which I would have worn as a tunic, but whatever) and heels. Now, she may not have been a model, but even if this woman had the brains of a physicist she would be wasting her body by not being a model. She was tall and thin and actually had a very pretty face. Normally, for these reasons, I don't like models. They make me feel bad for being short and curvy and not able to walk gracefully in heels. But this one didn't bother me, because she noticed what was happening around her, and clearly found it amusing. I found it amusing too.

As she passed, all the men turned to look. That's not unusual, men will turn for just about anyone. Hell, men turn for me when there aren't models present. But then as she stopped to wait for the train I noticed the men shifting position. Guys that were facing the tracks were suddenly facing the side, so it was a little less noticeable they were looking over at her. One guy in particular, standing pretty much in front of her but closer to the tracks, had assumed his new side-stance and was consistently looking over at her, and back at the tracks. Over at her, back at the tracks. From my spot behind both of them I saw Sly-Guy doing this, and then when I looked at her she was smirking. Not a, "aw shucks, this guy thinks I'm cute" smirk, but a, "men are so damn easy" smirk. I like that smirk, I respect that smirk, I wear that smirk.

So I finally found something I have in common with a model. It's not much, but it's something.

Keeping one eye on the street

I love my new neighborhood. Just at the end of my street on the way to the subway this morning I saw this big fella, relaxing by the fence. I just had to take a picture... because I have a deep love of chocolate labs, because he might be the cutest thing I've ever seen, and because this is as close as I'm going to get to having a pet for, well, at least 2 years. So what? So I'm a pet stalker, I'm okay with that.

The wedding post

What is with me? Anytime something big happens I completely forget to report on it. Here it is, over a week after my mom got married and I'm just now getting around to writing about it. Perchance there is just too much to say. Perhaps there are no words to describe the event. Maybe I've been busy. It's most likely that I'm just lazy. Sorry Ma!

Day 1, Thursday night:
Arrive in Chicago late. Sister arrives late at the exact same time. Hilarity ensues as she waits for luggage in one terminal, I wait for train in another to get to her terminal, and Mom waits in car outside clueless as to where we are. Somehow we find each other, complain about air travel, and head to Mom's condo.

Day 2, Friday:
Three-way fight with Mom and Leah over brunch, perfectly normal. We generally get on each other's nerves anytime we are together, best we got it out of the way before any wedding activities began. Mom and I head out for some last minute fun-time shopping while Leah decorates the wedding cake. We all converge at the condo and head up to the hotel/restaurant to drop off the cake and check in to the hotel in Evanston. Mom has dinner with Homer, Leah goes out with her friends, I have dinner with Kristen. We complain about men, she spills wine all over her cute capris, we drink remainder of the bottle and then start laughing for the rest of the night. Can't remember about what, but I'm certain it was hilarious.

Day 3, Saturday:
Today we begin to simply refer to Mom as "The Bride" or "Bride." We start early for The Bride's Super Special Spa Day. The guest list as pictured below: Leah, Lisa (Bride's best friend), The Bride, me, Gerry (Bride's older sister), Abby (Groom's youngest daughter), and Susan (Bride's younger sister). Hey, I'm not even close to the shortest person in that group!
Bride got a manicure, pedicure and facial while the rest of us got mani/pedis. Except for Lisa, who, due to an unfortunate nail polish allergy, got the strangest hand and foot massage in history as the technician didn't use any lotion/oil/spittle... anything. After the spa, tapas for lunch where we surprised The Bride with presents.

Sidebar... The Bride really wasn't surprised by the presents at this point. Before the day started I get a call from Susan in my hotel room. We are getting ready to depart with Bride to the spa and she doesn't know how to hide the presents. The conversation goes something like this:

Susan says, "I got a garbage bag from the front desk, do you want to put your present in there too?"
I ask, "A garbage bag? Don't you think Bride will think it's a little strange that you are bringing a suspicious garbage bag with you to the spa?"
"Well I'll just tell her it's junk or something."
"Don't you think she'll wonder why you are bringing a bag of junk to a spa?"
"I don't know..."
"Susan, I think the jig is up on the presents."

She still came downstairs with the garbage bag. Bride told us later that she did think it was strange but just thought they were decorations for the restaurant, or so she says....

After lunch we have about an hour to relax before heading to the church for the rehearsal. There was major miscommunication in that Bride thought her two sisters were coming to the rehearsal but they thought they weren't. Last minute she calls them both, wakes them up from their naps and drags them to the church. The church went long, but we were having fun. Most fun I've had in a church... ever. I didn't even burst into flames.

After the rehearsal, dinner at a pizza place with everyone at the rehearsal and anyone else who was in town, which was a lot of Homer's family by this point. Lots of people getting to know each other from many families. Good times with round cheesy Chicago goodness.

Day 4, Sunday, The Wedding Day:
First day I get to sleep in a little bit. After getting ready Leah, Abby, Caroline (Groom's older daughter) and I met in The Bride's suite at 2pm for girl pictures. We then took some more with Groom in the parlor. Into the limo and off to the beach we went for some fun pictures in the sun and surf. Then it was on to the church for The Big Event.

The ceremony was lovely, and very touching. The Bride looked absolutely beautiful and The Groom was cool as a cucumber. The church was filled with family and friends, all of which were special to the couple. After refreshments in the church it was off to The Big Party!

The reception was in the restaurant at the base of the hotel, with one room for dinner and another for cocktails and dancing. Dinner was delicious family style Italian fare. During dinner the photographer secretly edited and created a slide show of some of the best pictures from the beach as a special treat. They were amazing, people couldn't look away. Dancing to a live jazz band followed dinner, as did pictures outside. New family and friends ate and drank and laughed and danced through the evening.

Here's a picture of The Bride and The Groom after they were announced before dinner. Awwwwwww......

Day 5, Monday, The Day After:
Bride and Groom left very early for flight to Puerto Vallarta. Bride sends text message before flight about how happy she is. After checking out of the hotel, Leah, her friend Nick and I have lunch with Caroline and her boyfriend Dave. Back to Caroline's place where we find Abby is back from her morning plans and we all go hang out at the park and the beach with Caroline's dog. It was nice to spend a few hours with our new step-sisters, who are in no way evil and in fact quite wonderful. It might be a really long time before we get to hang out together again... I live in NY, Caroline in Chicago, Leah in Minneapolis, and Abby lives in Thailand. This is what e-mail and web cams are for!

I wish I had more pictures of the event, but when you are part of a wedding it's hard to take the time to snap some shots. Its always when you are having the most fun that you end up with the least photos. When the photographer releases her online slide show I'll post the link here for all to see.

The new "New York Lori"

So I moved into my new apartment yesterday. The move went as smoothly as could be expected... with the major exception that I didn't know where I was actually putting my stuff until 1pm the day of. Apparently the apartment failed the first lead test and was fixed, but they wouldn't let me in until they got the results back from the second lead test. If it failed I would have been putting my stuff in storage for an undetermined amount of time and sleeping on Jerry and Jenna's couch. But it did pass, I didn't have a stroke, and into my new apartment I went.

They did a better job cleaning and painting than I expected. Of course, it's not clean up to my standards, but I'm crazy about a fresh new apartment. I've moved into a lot of them, I know what I like. One major disappointment is that they painted over this beautiful framed blue-green glass that was over the doors to the bedroom and kitchen. I really loved it. I'll have to buy a paint solvent and get that glass back myself. Other than that some pretty basic stuff to fix... missing light bulbs in ceiling fixtures, putting screens in windows, replacing a towel bar in the bathroom. Nothing major, just small annoyances.

I quickly realized upon moving in that I'll have to make a few adjustments to my lifestyle in the new place. It's not a small apartment by New York standards, but it is to Chicago standards. Even though I already downsized when I first moved here, and then got rid of even more stuff before this move, it's still not really enough. All my stuff fits, but not comfortably. Certainly not stylishly. So I have vowed, in the presence of Jenna and Jerry (so I can't back down now), that I will become a new Lori. A paired down Lori. A streamlined Lori. A "New York Lori" if you will.

I'm going to be a new woman with a better attitude. I will see my apartment not as a too-small space with limited furniture placement options and awkward painting challenges. I see it as a tremendous and unique opportunity for artistic design growth. I will utilize these challenges to stretch my creativity and see what I can come up with. I will also no longer see my "stuff" as necessary objects just because I've had them for a long time or someone gave them to me. Everything is up for disposal. Well, except of course furniture that is handed down and special and I love it. But the handed down non-special stuff is up for grabs. I will learn to live the New York apartment life, with the emphasis on higher quality of fewer objects instead of greater quantity for the same price. I've already been doing this very thing with my wardrobe, time to put it into practice outside of the closet too.

But don't worry, fair readers, I'll never become a real New Yorker. Just a New Yorked version of Lori. I'll pluck the good stuff that the city has to teach and blend it in. And I look forward to the massive shopping spree I'll have the day I move back to Chicago because I'll have so much floor space to fill!

News from the Dept of Criminal Darwinism

Sure, robbery is a crime, but wouldn't the larger crime be not having the right earrings for a job interview?

UPDATE: "I guess I'm not going home."

Holy oversight Batman!

So I was rearranging computer files and I found some pictures from when my mom and her friend Lisa visited me in December. I can't believe I had forgotten about them! We had such a fun time that weekend. And there were some cute pictures, so I've posted them in my New York Visitors album.

Meanwhile, the packing continues. I keep running into the corners of boxes, and thus far I have been lucky to contain the bruises above the knee. Can't have any below or they'll be visible when I wear my dress for the wedding next week.

Getting my move on

My move date is finally set. The new landlord has agreed to let me in on the 31st, so I won't be homeless for a night. Sweet. So now I just have to book a movers and I'm ready to roll. I've already packed most of my apartment, so from here on it should be pretty smooth sailing. I have to go back out to Queens next week to sign the lease, but I promise not to rant about it. Really. I promise.

My mother's wedding is less than two weeks away now. She's very excited, and that's really cute. Actually, everyone is really excited. It's such a wonderful thing to get together with family to celebrate such a happy occasion.

Week...uh... six-ish, I think, tanning report: I recommend Aveeno! It makes the areas that naturally tan more tan than the rest, so it's really quite natural looking. And it doesn't smell badly like Jergens does. In fact, it really doesn't have a smell at all, so it doesn't fight with perfume. I'm no longer a white ghost! I may not be a tanned goddess, but I'm happy somewhere in the middle.

That is all... I may have less time to write in the coming weeks because of all the moving/wedding stuff happening at the same time, but don't worry, I won't forget you!

Don't forget your, uhhhh.... riding crop

Apparently strange things are left behind in apartments as well as the subway.

#1 Reason NOT to move to Queens

The

Commute

Blows

I had the distinct displeasure of travelling out to Forest Hills in Queens for an 8:30am appointment with my new property manager on Friday. For those of you who don't know where Forest Hills is, let's just say it's at the end of the line. The E line that is. I had to get up extra early to travel an hour out there, so I was already annoyed when I started out for the day. I arrived expecting an interview and was there for 5 minutes. 5 minutes! I can't believe she made me do that. Was there something about looking me in the eye which somehow proves I'm not a serial killer that talking to me on the phone couldn't? I would understand if she took a half hour to ask me some questions, but there was none of that. The most probing question she asked was how to pronounce my last name. Mostly I was just trying to plead my case to let me sublet the apartment to avoid all the hassles they are causing because they are annoyed the current tenant is breaking her lease and they are taking it out on both of us, which is so not fair. So at this point it's 8:45 and I'm pissed.

And yet, as ridiculous as this journey was, it wasn't the worst part of the morning. Getting back on the subway at the height of New York rush hour was. The E train is a serious express train, making very few stops before it gets to Manhattan. Express = crowded. And the E trains are all old trains, with poorly placed poles to hang on to leaving everyone teetering on each other the entire ride. It was gross and smelly and definitely invaded my personal space. Grrrrrrr..... Then I went to transfer to the 6 train. Big mistake. The line to get on the escalator to the 6 was so long I didn't even realize it was for the escalator. Once I figured out the quicker line was for the stairs I fought my way there. When I got to the base of the stairs I looked up couldn't see the top. Apparently the E train is five flights below the 6. I made my way up huffing and puffing and finally got over to the 6, which was then equally crowded. But they run newer trains so that was a slightly better ride. By the time I got to the office I was close to a rage, and it was only 9:45.

My office situation didn't help my mood. We've hired a few people lately and had to reorganize to accommodate. The day before I was uprooted from my comfy corner in the back to an office in the front. So now I'm stuck in a glass office in front of the entrance where it's ridiculously loud with everyone having meetings and yelling through doors. Not to mention that we keep all the marketing/shipping/etc supplies in this particular office so people are constantly traipsing through. Oh yeah, and my computer is the only one hooked up to the fancy printer and scanner so I keep getting kicked off for other people to do work. They tell me it is temporary, but I don't believe them.

I got the call in the middle of the day that the property manager won't let me sublet, but that I can move in June 1st. The current tenant left this weekend giving them 3 weeks to clean/paint/etc. I asked to move in on the 31st and she said that's really pushing it. There is maybe a week's worth of repairs and they won't give an inch, because they just don't have to. Jerks. I'm nervous about signing the lease, but this is the norm in NY so I just have to get in and then I'll never talk to them again since the building has a Super.

On top of all this it was Day 5 of the headache sent to suck my will to live, which would indeed continue through to Day 6 and for a short stint of Day 7 (as I write this now, on Day 7, it seems to have finally died away).

My weekend was actually a huge improvement, despite the headache. I had dinner and saw Spiderman with Jerry and got all of my non-essentials packed in my apartment, which makes me feel good to be ahead of the game. I have to be completely packed by the 24th when I leave for my mom's wedding, and will move just a few days after getting home, so I don't really have much time left. I hope to get an answer out of the property manager tomorrow on the date so I can book movers.

Sorry to unload on all of you, but damn, Friday was a bad day. I feel much better now.

And seriously, don't move to Queens. Bad days will follow.