I Know It's Been Awhile...

But I've been busy. And really for a while nothing that interesting or funny was happening in my life. Until now. First let me give you a little update. I'm back from the city and chillin' in Tallahassee, living with R and his brother, working for a very prominent Tallahassee company in the event industry. I will not (for safety purposes) name the company. I will however tell you it is not an event planning firm (I'm still working on opening my own, so if you have an event that needs planning, call me.). Other than that, based on the stories to be told, it is up to you to figure out the type of company I am working for.

Let's begin with this. I was hired under the pretense that this would be a full time position. Much needed for someone at my age with my spending habit. Thankfully my living expenses are minimal because I have two roommates and I've become a coupon-er. Based on that you should now realized that I am not working full time as promised. Basically, this is how it goes...

Me: "What time should I come in tomorrow?"
Boss Lady: "Ehh. I've decided I don't want to work tomorrow. I'll let you know about the next day."

Next day...

Me: "What time should I come in tomorrow?"
Boss Lady: "Ehh. How about I see you Monday at 10."

You get the point. And honestly, by the work habits of this company, I'm not quite sure how they have become so successful.

Moving on. I can't even begin to explain to you the interesting (for lack use of a better word) things I have had to put up with. So, let's just start with today...

Boss Lady: "I need you to go to Sam's and get the following (provides me with a list)"
Me: "Okay sure."

Now at Sam's...

Me: "I know you said the apples come 15 to a bag, but there are only 8 in a bag."
Boss Lady (in a very loud New York accent): "There are 15 in a bag. I just bought some the other day!"
Me: "I understand, but I am standing here looking at the apples and there are only 8 in a bag."
BL: "Well clearly you can't find them. Ask somebody."
Me: "I already asked the produce man and the woman sampling and selling apples from the kiosk and this is the largest bag of apples they have in this kind. We can get 10 to a bag if you want Gala apples."
BL: "They are on an end cap of the produce."
Me: "The end caps have bananas and kiwis."
BL: "Well I don't care what kind you get me, just get them! I don't have time to put up with these kind of conversations"

Well clearly you care because before I left you told me 3 times what kind of apples you wanted...
Now on to the cornbread...

Me: "Sam's doesn't carry cornbread mix."
BL: "Yes they do! I had it in my hand the other day about to buy it!"
Me: "I don't know what to tell you. I've walked up and down each aisle and there is no cornbread. So I asked the grocery lady. She told me they don't carry cornbread."
BL: "Well employees don't know anything!" (Oh really? And you do? That's funny because they are here everyday and you are here every other month.) "Listen. You need to walk up and down each aisle again and then ask a manager."
Me: "Okay. I will do that, then call you back." (I was wearing heels so clearly the walking didn't happen, but the manager asking did...)
(I should state that during this phone call, I was actually speaking to the other girl in the office who we shall call Jane. And I told her to ask Boss Lady if she was confusing Costco with Sam's seeing as she has memberships at both and is slightly (by which I mean out of her freakin' mind) crazy. She refused because she was too scared.)
Me: "I talked to a manager and he said they don't carry it."
BL: "But I had it in my hand the other day! Whatever, you just don't know what you're looking for or who to ask! I had that in my hand the other day and now you can't seem to find it. I guess I will just have to do it myself since clearly you aren't capable."
(In my head I'm thinking please be my guest you crazy psycho. They don't carry it.)

Anyways, on the way back, for my own personal satisfaction, I took the liberty of calling Costco. They do, unlike Sam's, carry Jiffy cornbread mix, as I suspected. I neglected to tell her this because (a) she would probably tell me I am a terrible, rude, inconsiderate employee and (b) because I simply don't give a rat's ass if she ever gets her cornbread mix. Oh yeah, and when I got back she made me count the number of apples in the bag in her fridge. There were 10...

Until next time... xo

Are You Kidding Me?

If I was unsure before, it is solidified now. Traveling and New York hate me. They hate me. As I've stated before, my flight to New York two months ago was delayed, my flight from New York a month ago was delayed, and my flight back to New York a month ago was delayed.  Well my final return flight to Florida from JFK was MAJORLY delayed. I'm not talking like 4 hours. I'm talking 12 hours and two flight cancelations delayed.  So here's the story. I leave my apartment at 11 expecting it to take me at least an hour and a half to get to the airport since I was planning on taking the airtrain.  Since my bags were too heavy and  I could barely make it half a block without stopping and changing arms, I hailed a cab about a block from my apartment.  I get to JFK, check in, and wait in line to get my bag tag. I get to the counter, hand the man my boarding pass and ID, put my bag on the scale (1.2 pounds under weight thankfully!), and wait.

Man- "Ma'am, this flight is cancelled."
Me- "No, sir, it's not. That's my boarding pass. I just checked in five minutes ago."
Man in Charge- "Ma'am I'm sorry that flight literally just got cancelled five minutes ago."
Me- "So, what does that mean? What do I do? When is the next flight?"
MIC- "Well, the next flight is not until 9 pm tonight."
Me- "So, can you guarantee me a ticket on that flight?"
MIC- "Thankfully, since you are here two hours early, I can print you a boarding pass right now. Or, I can put you on a flight to any where else you would like to go."
Me- "Okay. So can you guarantee that I will get into Jacksonville tonight if I book on the 9?"
MIC- "Well, I can give you a boarding pass but I can't guarantee it will leave. The weather is only getting worse right now. I would say your best bet is to probably just rebook on the 8 am tomorrow morning."
Me- "Sir, I'm graduating from college tomorrow and I kind of need to be there, so tomorrow morning is not an option.  It's fine. Just put me on the 9."

With a new boarding pass in my hand and tears running down my face, I made my way past security, grabbed a seat at my gate and waited it out.  Three hours later, I made my way to the bar and enjoyed some wine and hummus.  Another three hours after that I made my way back to the gate to wait the remaining 2 hours there. This flight was supposed to board at 8:30. At 8:30, the gate agent lady came on and told us there was going to be a 30 minute delay because our plane is sitting at customs because it just came in from Cancun and is waiting to be cleared. Thirty minutes later...

"I'm sorry ladies and gentlemen, but there seems to be a hold up at customs.  The plane is waiting to be cleared. Once it is cleared, it must come from terminal four, here to terminal five, go through a security check, be catered and cleaned, then we may begin the boarding process.  Right now we are estimating the departure time to be 10:30."

Seriously? At least it's not cancelled.  Next thing I know, a plane is pulling up to the gate. A plane. I have never been more excited! They open the gate and people get off the plane.  In my excitement, I approach the counter and ask the man if this is our plane.

Man- "No. That's a different plane."
Me- "Well, then why is it at our gate?"
Man- "Because, this is their gate."
Me- "But this is our gate. So where is our plane going?"
Man- "It's coming here. This flight is going to deplane and when our flight clears customs, we will move the plane that is here now and bring your plane over."
Me- "Well why can't we just use that plane?"
Man- "Because that's not your plane."
Me-"Okay. I'm just trying to understand here. There is a plane at our gate, but it's not our plane. And we can't use that plane. But, our plane is sitting at another terminal where it is not being cleared by customs so we can't get on it yet. And once our plane finally clears customs and comes over here it has to go through another security check by you then get cleaned and catered then we can board and go to Jacksonville?"
Man- "Yes. But we are also waiting on a crew."
Me- "A crew? There was a crew here 2 hours ago. Where did they go?"
Man- "That wasn't your crew?"
Me- "Then how come they were standing here waiting for the plane and when I approached the one man he said 'Hi I'm John and I'm flying this plane to Jacksonville tonight.'?"
Man- "I don't know. Your crew is in Washington because of a cancelled flight."
Me- "Okay so now we are also waiting on a crew? Let me get this straight. We have a plane that is not here and no crew. We have no plane and no crew and it's 10:30. So is this flight going to get cancelled too?"
Man- "I can't tell you that."

Are you kidding me? You can't tell me that! I am on my second cancelled flight of the day and if you don't tell me something soon, I will have a minor freak out. At this point, I call my mom, tell her to do whatever she needs to do because I need to be out of this freaking city and there are 300 people on this flight that is most likely going to get cancelled and only 3 seats tomorrow. My mom finds a flight on US Airways at 6 am the next morning from LaGuardia. The second that man came on the intercom at 11:30 and announced the flight was cancelled, Mom clicked reserve, I grabbed my obnoxiously heavy carry ons, walked to baggage claim, sat for an hour waiting for my bag, stood in a taxi line for half an hour, got back to my apartment at 1:30 (thankfully I still had the keys and I could get in touch with my roommate so she would undo the dead bolt), slept for 2 hours, woke up at 3:30, got in a cab at 4, got to LaGuardia at 4:30, checked in, got on a plane to DC, waited 2 hours, got on a (on time!) flight to Jacksonville, drove 45 minutes to the beach, got in my car and drove 3 hours to Tallahassee.

Longest travel day ever. It sucked. I cried. I laughed in irony. I finally made it home!

The Things People Say...

I don't know what it is, but apparently there is something about me that just screams to strangers "Hey you should make random conversation with me." I mean I guess it's a good thing because I guess it means I'm an approachable person, but sometimes it gets weird.  I don't get your normal "Hi, how are you?" or "This weather is crazy isn't it?" No. This is what I get (and yes, all of these have happened):

While waiting to cross the street: "Oh, I love the color on your toes. It's so pretty and spring like. You know I'm a yoga teacher and people are constantly looking at my feet because I'm normally not wearing shoes. I mean I am today, but I always have to have a pedicure because I'm always barefoot. Except for today of course. But I think I may have to get that color next time. It's very nice. Who makes it? I'm sure all my yoga students would love to see that.  It looks very calming and when they are looking at my feet it would calm them!"

While waiting for an elevator from across the lobby: "Hi there pretty.  Why you look so sad? I mean I know it's raining outside and it's kind of a sad day, that doesn't mean that you need to be looking all sad. You too pretty to not have a smile on your face.  I mean it. Smile. I always smile. I swear I'm not trying to pick you up. I'm just saying. I would take you to dinner sometime but not if you frowning. You too pretty for that."
-> After that I continued to frown and look away just so he would stop. He didn't. And this was the slowest elevator ever!!!!

While at the airport during a 9 hour delay: "So where are you going today?" Jacksonville. "Oh yeah, Jacksonville? I like it there. A lot. Ya know I go there sometimes. Maybe I could call you while in town and you could show me around." I thought you go there all the time? "I do but still." Umm no. Cue the walking away.

While on the subway: "Look at my phone. It has service! Do you see this? My phone has service on the subway. You know this has never happened to me before. It's kinda weird. You know what I think, in a couple years, everybody is going to have service on the subway and when we ride, we are all going to be talking to each other! Isn't that the craziest thing?" No, but know what is the craziest thing? How you won't shut up!

While also on the subway: "Oh hey mommy! You looking good! Me and some of my boys are going down to the corner. Want to come? Mommy you lookin' good! What's your name? Why you won't talk to me?" Why won't I talk to you? Because you are 14 and calling me "mommy." Hey news flash, a girl doesn't find it to be a turn on when you call her "mommy" or "momma." I'm a little to young to be a mother and even if I was of age, you sure as hell would not be the father of my baby.  So put that "mommy" in your back pocket and save it for the girl you knock up in a couple years!

This is only the beginning. I don't even remember all of the strange things people say to me. Seriously, what is this?!

Homeless Men and Rats

Sounds awesome right?! So I'm walking down Broadway to work, on the phone with my mom. When I get really into a conversation, I start talking with my hands. I mean like big, in your face, hand gestures. So, as I'm talking, I have my hand out to the side shaking it and apparently this homeless man took it as a sign that I wanted a high five. NO. No, I don't want a high five from you! It only freaked me out slightly. Now, on to the rat part of the story. It is completely separate but it's weird and fits with the weirdness of the homeless man high fiving me.
I have a huge fear of rats. And I'm not talking about your average, run of the mill, huge fear of rats. I'm talking can't even watch a rat on TV, live or cartoon, because I don't like them so much. As many of you know, the subway is full of rats. But, they stay on the tracks, a good 3 feet below me, and I just never look down so I never have to see them.  Well, the other day I walk down the stairs to my train, and start walking down the platform to get to the spot where it will drop me closest to the stairs at my final stop.  So, start walking and get about halfway there and what do I see? A rat. A rat on the platform! Just roaming around. I almost threw up. Literally. It was the grossest thing I have ever seen in my life and I'm about to throw up just thinking about it again. Eww. And to top it all off, my train wasn't scheduled to come for another 4 minutes. What was I going to do? There was no way I was going to stand on that platform with that stupid, ugly, diseased rat. So, I ran down the platform to the bench. I took a seat, pulled my feet up off the ground, and sat there, paranoid, until my train came. In which case, I ran onto the train to get away from that thing as fast as possible.

Laundry Day.

Thankfully, we live right next door to a laundry mat.  This means to do laundry, I all I have to do is walk down the stairs.  If you don’t know, laundry mats only take quarters, and the quarter machine only takes 5’s, 10’s, and 20’s.  Obviously I don’t have any of those, because I never carry cash.  So I walk to the CVS at the corner and buy two little things of Skinny Cow Ice Cream because it’s delicious and get $10 back.  I get home, grab my laundry, and walk downstairs with Whitney.  We don’t bring jackets because all we are doing is walking right back upstairs.  We are both sporting leggings, t-shirts, and UGGs.  We get downstairs and the coin machine is broken. Obviously. Why would it be working? With no clean clothes, laundry had to be done.  So, instead of walking back upstairs to get coats, we head down the street to beg for change.  Picking the cheapest looking places we can find, we begin our hunt.  With $20 in change needed, this was bound to be interesting.  Into the first place we go.  I ask first. “Sir, is there anyway I can have $10 in quarters?” “No but how about $5?” “Great.” I get my $5 in quarters and my $5 and head out.  There was no such luck for Whitney there.  Into the next cheap looking deli.  Whitney asks for $5 and the guy offers $2. Okay well it’s a start. Cheap deli number 3.  I score my remaining $5.  Next door is this run down cheap bakery with only mediocre chocolate chip cookies.  Whitney scores another $2.  At least now, she can do a load of laundry. She can’t dry it, but still. An unlikely place, we go to Duane Reid (it’s like Walgreens or CVS, but not as good.) Amazingly, Whitney scores $3.  This was definitely a shot in the dark. But it worked.  Thirty minutes later and numb, we finally start laundry and now I have clean clothes. Delightful.

Dear Traveling, You Suck.

I don’t know if I should take this as a sign or something. But all I know is my original flight to New York back at the end of February was delayed 3 hours out of Jacksonville.  My flight to New York the other day was delayed 3 hours out of Tallahassee.  I mean seriously what is this? If I didn’t know any better, I would think that Rob was calling the airlines and telling them to delay my flights on purpose to get me to stay.  Well this time it almost worked.  Airlines, get your act together because I am thoroughly annoyed.  I do not want to fly into LaGuardia. I would like to fly into JFK and not land at midnight. LaGuardia does not have an AirTrain to get me to the subway like JFK does.  And I have no desire to take a bus to get to the subway. I now have to pay for a cab since that is the only reasonable option to get to the city from LaGuardia and I am not happy about it.  I had planned to use that $50 on something much better.  Like the new Benefit moisturizer and under eye cream that just came out.  You know, the new one that is supposed to completely eliminate my dark under eye circles making it look like I sleep when I don’t and the moisturizer that is supposed to give me that natural glow all the time making me look refreshed and hydrated when I’m not.  I do believe Delta should pay for my cab due to the inconvenience or at least buy my new moisturizer since flying will only add to the fact that my skin is not refreshed and hydrated looking.  One man was so flaming mad too. Seriously. His face was actually flaming red he was so upset.  Apparently he had been trying to get out since yesterday, so I kinda understand. But still. Take a chill pill, have a drink, and a shot and calm down! There is clearly nothing you can do, and if you have a problem there is no need to yell very loudly at the gate agent and slam your fist on the counter like a 5 year old when clearly there is nothing she can do to fix the problem because obviously she is just the gate agent.  That man walked away. Finally. On the plane, I find that my flight attendant’s name is Starla.  It made me think of Sweet Home Alabama even though that woman’s name is Stella.  It’s still very similar and Starla totally sounds like a name that you would hear in Sweet Home Alabama.  So, instantly I started quoting it in my head, because if I said it out loud people would look at me like I’m crazy (since they don’t already).  My thoughts of quotes was rudely interrupted when Starla came on and told me that we were delayed another 10 minutes.  Cool. Thanks Starla.  But she did run a glass of water to me right as they were starting the engines and moving down the runway.  She totally made it to me and back to her seat without spilling a drip of my water, so naturally I think she is the best fight attendant ever and if I could pick my flight attendant like I can pick my seat, I would pick her.  Plus she has a little sarcasm to her, which I like as well.   By this point I am also incredibly hungry because I sat at the airport for 3 hours and didn’t leave because the other gate agent told me that was the worst idea I had all day and incase you didn’t know, there is no food in the Tallahassee airport.  My stomach is now grumbling louder than the plane engine.  Oh and don’t let me forget to add that now my flight to New York is delayed till 8:30. Oh and I can’t get on the earlier one because of my checked bag because if I do, they won’t bring my bag to me. I would have to go back to LaGuardia to get it. So let’s sum this up. It’s 7:38. I’m tired. I need a drink. I don’t land till 11. I won’t get home till 12:30 at the earliest. I have to be up at 7. And I miss Rob. Officially this day sucks.  

Planes, Trains, and Cars…Literally.

That’s what it took.  I wake up at 4:30 am. Leave my apartment at 5:30 am.  Walk to the 6, take the 6 to 51^st, transfer to the E at 53^rd, ride the E for 45 minutes to the JFK AirTrain, take the JFK AirTrain to Terminal 3, board a 2 hour flight to Atlanta, sit in the Atlanta airport for 3 hours (yes, I was delayed twice and the earlier flight got cancelled), take a 1 hour flight to Tallahassee, hop in a cab to campus, and finally get driven home by Rob.  Twelve hours later, two planes, three trains, a cab, and a truck and I’m here. So here is what I encountered on my journey.

So, I board my flight at JFK and I’m sitting in my seat minding my own business, and this woman yells, “Do you want to sit there?” Naturally since this woman is yelling I turn to look at her not thinking she’s talking to me.  She say’s it again. “Do you want to sit there?” Looking straight at me, I finally figure out she is talking to me.  I stare at her dumbfounded because obviously I want to sit there. It’s my seat. My assigned seat.  And no, I do not plan on giving it to you. It’s an aisle. Since I’m not saying anything to her, she yells once again, “Fine, you can sit there, what’s your seat number?”

Me: “19D” (By the way, I was sitting in 19D at the time this conversation is taking place.)

Woman: “That’s my seat, but I’ll give it to you.”

Me (showing my boarding pass): “I’m sorry, but my boarding pass says 19D”

Woman (now looking at her boarding pass): “Oh. Well I suppose I’ll sit over here in 19A then”

Exactly. My guess is 19A was her actual seat and she was either (A) trying to scam me out of my aisle seat because aisle rock or (B) forgot her glasses at home and her husband was too embarrassed by her yelling to correct her. Dear people of the world, please read your boarding pass before unnecessarily yelling way too loud for 7 am at the girl trying to sleep for sitting in the correct seat.

Here is another lovely letter I have composed to travelers in Atlanta.

Dear People in the Atlanta Airport,

Escalators are made wide enough for two people side by side.  This is not for you to hold your girlfriends hand and kiss her while riding up. This is not so more people can fit on the escalator.  This is not for you to stand beside your buddy and have a conversation about basketball.  This is for travelers who do not like to stand on escalators.  For the people who like to walk up.  They are made wide so that people who are standing, stand on the one side while people who are walking, walk up the other.  It’s simple. Plus it’s highly inconvenient when you are running to catch an earlier flight and people are too lazy to move over five steps to let you by. 

So It's Been Awhile...

It's been awhile and nothing too crazy has happened. Here's a run down of the last week or so. Sat next to a man on the subway who smelt tragic. Washed dishes with my hands at work in the bathroom sink. Put together Ikea pieces at work. I had to literally climb inside the piece of furniture to put the top on. Went to the FSU bar and met this guy who awkwardly followed us to the diner after. Went to some club where I think we met the son of a mafia man. And today, we got followed by some man off the subway. And I saw two HUGE rats and freaked. But, I did buy a super cute pair of shoes from this highly annoying man at Bloomingdales. Happy Saturday!

The Day I Got Stuck on the Subway (and fell asleep at the bar)

This story actually starts the night before.  Well actually two nights before.  So okay, two nights prior to getting stuck on the subway, we (7 people) were all supposed to go to dinner then go out for drinks.  Well around dinner time we (3 people) find out that it is not dinner just drinks and that we are to meet everybody (4 people) at Pat's to pregame and that everyone else had already eaten.  So since apparently Carlie and I don't know how to listen when people talk and both get rather angry when we haven't eaten, we decided to stop for food before heading downtown.  Ali texts us directions during dinner, so after we eat we head to the 6 and head downtown.  By the way there is a monsoon outside.  The rain is literally coming at you sideways and it is windy and I am in no way dressed properly for the weather.  We get all the way downtown, get off at Canal, walk to Broadway and proceed to walk five block to find Broome St.  Well let me tell you, when you go left on Broadway as opposed to right on Broadway, you end up in Chinatown.  That's right, we walked 5 blocks into the heart of Chinatown at 11 at night. In the rain.  By the way, Chinatown is not the safest place in the city at night.  We are cold, wet, lost, tired, I kinda looked like a wet dog and there is not a drink coming my way for a long time.  We text Ali (and lie to her of course because if we told her the truth she would run into the rain 16 blocks to Chinatown to find us) and said we were going home because we are tired.  The next morning Ali stumbles in around 7:30 to get ready for work and we tell her why we really didn't come.  She feels so bad that automatically we have to go out that night too.  So we all go to work, come home, change and head out for dinner.  We went to this great little sushi place in the Village that had the best ginger dressing! Anyways we head to this bar called Bleeker Heights.  Which by the way I love. It's above a Five Guys. You literally have to walk through the Five Guys and up the stairs to get there.  And which if you know me, drunk eating is my favorite so this place is perfect! The bartender's name is Patrick. He's Irish and told me that he used to only date Sarah's and that if he wasn't married I'd be in trouble.  We did shots of whiskey together.  I proceed to be a slight bit drunk.  So we decide to go to another bar.  All I can tell you is that it's called Joshua Tree.  As soon as we walked in the door, I got the hiccups.  We walked to a table in the back, and...I fell asleep. Right there on the table, in the bar, with my hiccups.  Whitney, being the fabulous roommate that she is, takes me home.  We both wake up the next morning without crashers in our bed.  Let me clarify.  I share a bed with Carlie, and Ali has been crashing in Whitney's bed for the week.  Neither are there.  We call, brief chat, their at brunch, we go get the best bagel I've ever had.  After restocking the paper towels, trash bags, and toilet paper (please see previous post), we head home.  About an hour later, these two coming strolling through the door.  Ali now has to be at the airport in 2 hours.  So let's do a time run down.  It's going to take 1 hour to get to the airport from the time you walk out of our apartment.  Ali is not packed, we have to go find her a charger for her phone, and she has to shower.  Miraculously, we make it out of the apartment at exactly the right time.  Also, I'm sure you are wondering why we are making a group trip to the airport.  We aren't.  Whitney and I are going shopping in Soho and just left when Ali left and have to take the same subway.  Anyways, right before our stop (literally you can see the platform off to the other side but we just aren't close enough to open the doors) the subway comes to a screeching halt. Yep. The emergency brakes went off. They don't know why. And now we are stuck. For 30 minutes.  Let me just tell you, getting stuck on the subway is not fun. And there were these little kids running around thinking the subway car was a playground. It's not. Dear Man, please control your obnoxious children.  But I did take a girls picture for CollegeFashionista.  Anyways, longest 30 minutes ever! And that's the time I got stuck on the subway.

Things There Are No More Of

We are presently out of toilet paper, paper towels, and trash bags. Probably three of the most essential things in a house.  My friend started a blog called Hot Hot Mess. I'm pretty sure we would qualify to be on this site by the fact that we are all out of these items and have been for 2 days now but we are all too hungover to actually go buy them. Hot Hot Mess. And incredibly tragic. I also have no food. Hello shopping Saturday.

The Flea Market

This past Saturday I took a journey. A journey to Brooklyn. In this far away land known as Brooklyn, we went to an indoor flea market.  I love flea markets.  I think they are great.  You can buy vintage and not pay outrageous prices.  Yes you must dig, but you get to barter and there are some great things to be found.  Please just look at the necklace I bought.  It's from the 60s, I only paid $40, and you can't run to Target to get your own! This flea market was great though.  All of these food truck set up tables on the first floor and the food is amazing.  I went to this place called the Milk Truck.  All they serve is grilled cheese and it's delicious.  There was also an Asian hot dog place and a some taco place that looked really good.  Oh and I also had this bread stick thing that had butter and parmesan cheese and kale and it was uber delish.  The cupcakes I had though, while tasty, were a bit dry (mine are totally better). If you can't already tell from the post below, you should be able to tell by now that my life clearly revolves around food. Here are pictures from my Brooklyn exploration.

                                       

Clearly my life revolves around food.

Food food food. I love food. Here's the run down on what I ate this weekend.
Friday: Southern Hospitality (Justin Timberlake's restaurant.)
Well Carlie's boxes arrived Thursday, and clearly UPS wouldn't leave them.  Naturally they try again on Friday and won't leave them again. This leads to a trip to the UPS distribution center. Perfect seeing as Rob has ordered me an ethernet cable and forgot to put my apartment number in the address so it too is sitting at the UPS distribution center.  At around 8, we cab it there.  After waiting some period of time, Carlie's boxes are brought to the front.  Obviously they are too heavy for us to carry, so the very nice UPS man wheels them out to the cab for us.  We get home and get the boxes upstairs (miraculously!).  By this point we are starved seeing as it's 9:30 and none of us have eaten since lunch.  Whitney suggests Southern Hospitality which is conveniently located within walking distance from our apartment.  At 9:30 on a Friday night we had a very short wait.  I got the pulled pork sandwich with fries and creamed spinach.  Overall the food was really good, the wine was really good, the atmosphere was great, and the price was reasonable (only $11.95 for my sandwich, but I did pay $6 for a side of spinach).  By the way, the people hanging out at the bar next to our table were role playing. And by that, I mean they would stand back to back and another person with them would make a doorbell sound and then they would talk in different voices. Strange, but this is New York.  Anyways, very good and I would definitely go there again.

Saturday: Agave
It's this great little Mexican place.  I could not tell you where, but I had the best blood orange margarita and tuna thing.  So this tuna, it's kind of like a tuna taco but on a big blue corn chip with this chipotle cream and guacamole (Ps, we ordered guacamole as an appetizer and I don't even like guacamole and this was the best stuff I have ever had! ) and some sort of chunky tomato salsa on top, and it was fab!  Also, our waiter, named Bradley (not Brad...Bradley) was the funniest man! His iPod was what was playing throughout the restaurant and at one point "Popular" from Wicked came on!  No picture of Agave but I swear this is the best Mexican I have ever had. A little bit pricer than Southern Hospitality, but then again I did pay $9 for a margarita and $13 for a grande margarita (clearly the later was a better deal).

Sunday: Le Pescadeux
Sunday, we hit this great little place in Soho called Le Pescadeux.  We made reservations Saturday night as we were walking to dinner, and Patrick decided to make the reservation for six.  There are only five of us.  He tells us he made the sixth seat for whoever brings home a shacker.  This week it was Patrick.  We first walked in and it was really cute.  I then saw the menu.  $14 for all you can drink mimosas or bloody mary's? I knew I was going to like this place.  Needless to say, we took full advantage of the all you can drink. The owner of this place is a man named Chuckie, an ex actor who used to work on broadway, did the first speaking role in a music video, was once married to some singer I can remember the name of but was apparently very popular, is Canadian, majored in economics, was going to get his PHD in economics at Brown until he landed his first role, and is the nicest, funniest man.  I love him.  Even if this place sucked, I would go there just because I love Chuckie so much! There was also this little girl there.  She is 3, speaks 4 languages, half German, half Dutch, lives in Tribecca, sings a summer song in her head because she is tired of the cold, like to ride her bike, her birthday is in May and she wants a doll house.
Alli: What color doll house do you want? Pink?
Little Girl: Red. No Black.
When asked about her party this is what she had to say to Patrick.
Patrick: Are you excited for your birthday? Are you going to have a party?
Little Girl: Yeah. But you're not invited!
This little girl is a true New Yorker and she's only 3! And her party is so exclusive! I love her. I want my kids to be her! We ended up staying at brunch for 3.5 hours.  And yes we were drinking the whole time. We loved this place so much we are going back every week.  And we have decided to always get a table for six just to have the awkward shacker join us the next morning.



















  
The right image would be Ali's foot and this little girl's foot. They are almost the same size.  That's just how small Ali's foot is.

So after brunch, we decide that it would be a good idea to go to Ikea...drunk. Let me tell you, never go to Ikea drunk. When we get there (By the way Ikea is in Brooklyn. We don't know how to get there. And we have to take a bus.), we are so hungry we end up eating at the Ikea cafeteria. Yes, Ikea has a cafeteria. I ended up with meatballs and macaroni and cheese.

Overall, the food was great for being drunk. Would I eat is sober, no. So now let me tell you why going to Ikea drunk is a bad idea.  This is how the process goes. Drunk, a little less drunk, kinda sober, hungover. For those of you that have walked around Ikea know, this is no quick process. We were there for four hours. And we knew what we wanted. The longest part was waiting in line to check out and then get the home delivery.  Let's just put it this way, by the end of the trip Carlie, Whitney, and I were passed out on the bench.  Yes, we were literally asleep on the bench at Ikea waiting on Ali.  Here is the best part.  Ali was talking to this guy in line.

Ali: This is the longest line ever.

Guy behind her: I work in management and this is the worst managed place ever.

Ali: Yeah look these kids in front of me are falling asleep.

Guy: Clearly this place is a bore, I mean just look at those girls over there. They actually fell asleep on the bench.

Ali: Yeah, those are my friends. We came here after brunch...

Guy: What would make you think that was a good idea?!

End of conversation.

Oh by the way, I forgot to mention that it's a hurricane outside. Drunk, cold, rain, Ikea. Awesome.  Moral of the story, never go to Ikea drunk.

Just a few shots of the UES...

Since I don't start work till tomorrow, I decided to spend my last day off on a nice little run through Central Park and back down 5th Ave.  Here are a few shots from my run!

The Guggenheim Museum 

5th Ave. Homes

Future Residence

5th Ave. to the left, Central Park to the right

Lexington and 65th

The Locksmith

By the title I'm sure you can tell this is going to be interesting.  Yesterday my boxes came.  Well the UPS man leaves them downstairs so I have to go down the stairs to get them.  So, I throw on a pair of shoes and run down the stairs to grab them.  Well of course as soon as I close the door I remember, this door locks back automatically, which means now I'm locked out.  Step 1, get all the boxes upstairs.  Which by the way, props to me because each one (there were 3) weighed 40 pounds.  Step 2, knock on the neighbors door and ask to borrow her phone.  Side note, our neighbor across the hall is so nice and she just moved in too. Step 3, call the locksmith.  He tells me he will be here in 15.  Now here is where the drama starts.  I stood downstairs for 20 minutes waiting on him.  Five minutes late. I knew this was going to be bad.  As we're walking up the stairs he asks me how it happened and I told him.  The following I will put in dialog just so you get the full effect of the craziness.

Locksmith man: (shining his flashlight in my lock) "You see, you have a kind of lock that can't be picked."
Me: "Of course it can't."
The Man: "What I would have to do is either break the lock or take a drill and drill off the whole thing to get you in the door. And I would have to see your ID first."
Me: "Okay well everything is inside that door so I can't show you anything."
Man: "And it would be a $55 service fee and then $125 to break the lock."
Me: (almost in tears) "Umm no. I'll just wait for my roommate."
->Yes, I was actually going to sit in the hall for 4 hours and wait for my roommate to get home. I refused to pay this man $200.
Man: "Well you still have to pay the $55 service fee."
Me: "Yes, well as I stated before, EVERYTHING is inside that door. So, you can sit and wait for 4 hours with me or you can leave and come back because you aren't breaking that lock and I have nothing except these 3 boxes and you aren't getting their contents."
->Magically his phone rings and he has an emergency.
Man: "Listen, I have an emergency. Can you pay cash?"
Me: "Yes, but EVERYTHING IS INSIDE THAT DOOR and you aren't breaking my lock."
Man: "Okay well if you can pay cash, I will open this door right now for $55."
Me: "Okay than do it!"
-> I was willing to right the $55 off as a life lesson and move on.  Next, you would suppose the man pulls out his drill or lock breaking tools. No. Want to know what he pulls out? A piece of sheet metal. Yes, sheet metal.  A small 4x2 piece of sheet metal.  Now I'm sure you are thinking how is this man going to break the lock with a piece of sheet metal.  Well guess what. He doesn't break the lock.  He takes this lovely piece of sheet metal and slides it between the door jam and the lock and wiggles it a little and magically opens my unopenable door. Without breaking a damn thing.  This stupid man was about to charge me $200 to break my lock when he was able to open it with a piece of sheet metal. I was furious! I mean wouldn't you be? This man was straight up taking advantage of me! Either way, I got in, payed the man his cash, and he left.

So, lesson learned. A) Don't leave without your keys. EVER. Even if you are just going to check the mail. B) Never trust the locksmith. EVER. Because now you know he can always open the door with a piece of sheet metal. C) Be sure to lock the deadbolt because a man can always get in the bottom lock with a piece of sheet metal.

The Subway Debacle

Yesterday was my first real day in the city, and I decided to combat the homesickness with a little retail therapy in Soho with a couple friends.  After a lovely afternoon of walking, walking, shopping, walking, and walking (I don't really know why people in NY join gyms because all I've done since I got here is walk), I try (try being the key word) to head home.  My handy-dandy iPhone app, iTrans NYC, tells me there is a 6 train stop at Spring St. Of course I can't find it.  So I walk back to the one I knew at Bleeker. Well of course the uptown 6 entrance is closed at Bleeker.  I then walk back to find the Spring St. 6 uptown (by the way during all of this there is supposed to be an F train around which I can't seem to find either).  Finally, I find it and guess what, it's closed as well.  Thank God for the nice subway fix-it man who happened to be standing there when I was trying to go downstairs telling me where to go. Otherwise I may have been stuck in Soho or had to walk back uptown (Which was not going to happen. I would have rather slept on the street than walked all the way back uptown.)  So this lovely man tells me I now must take the 6 two stops downtown and then transfer to the 6 uptown. Incredibly frustrating, seeing as by this point I had the back pain of a pregnant woman and four blisters on each foot from walking so much in improper (but cute) shoes.
Overall, yesterday was a learning day, but I made it through.  Tomorrow is a new day and hopefully I will have a little more figured out by then.

49 Days and Counting...

I have officially accepted an internship. I have officially found a place to live. I am officially moving...in 49 days! No matter how excited I am, the closer it gets the harder it is for me to think about leaving those I love most. It's a constant struggle, and I wish I had more time, but I'm ready. Let's GO! The countdown has begun. New York...I'm coming for you!