my spring ‘neutral’ obsession: burberry trench!

Today and yesterday were such a grind! With all this John Galliano swirling amongst the media, I realized it was time for me to pull myself out of it and stop raging over Galliano’s ignorance. Apology or not, he made his bed, and now he has to lay in it.

After working on one submission this morning for yet another literary journal (editing is a vast and tedious process, let me assure you), I decided to take a break and “surf” while waiting for my green tea to brew. Ever since I started hoarding all my TRENTA cups from Starbucks, they’ve formed a line on my desk. Naturally, if I don’t feel like shelling out $300 for coffee, I drink tea–and it’s just as easy (and financially prudent) for me to brew it in my own home, fill the TRENTA cup with gobs of ice, and pour the tea over ice. Voila. Stick a new straw in, and I have tea to last me days (hours).

Anyway, while I was breaking, I’d remembered that my fashion forward roommate (who shares the same fondness/disease for the fashion game) had told me she was obsessed with SHOPSTYLE, a website that allows you to check off all the brands you love, and then search their items to add to a “closet” of your favorite items. It’s like paperdolls without the dolls–you add clothes and make outfits, and they stay on a favorites list, or can even email alert you when the item(s) go on sale! Genius! (I also downloaded the app for my iPhone.. of course. Because I also want to obsess about items I’m in love with while I’m on the go.)

Of course, my closet has begun to be riddled with neutrals since before I took off for New York over the holidays. It always starts out small.. Double knit equestrian leggings in olive, closed almond toe pumps in patent nude, silk boyfriend blazer in black, etc. etc. But what my fashion sense has always lacked is: 1) outerwear and 2) spring/summer tops. Of course, it’s easy to go the old “tube top/tank” route in the summer, but what about really fierce pieces that make a statement and are also gorgeous for spring?

Spring outerwear at its finest.

ShopStyle helped me answer this question–and I’ve been hankering for spring outerwear all winter. What better way to satisfy that craving then a timeless, lightweight trench? And who is famous for their outerwear (trenches, in particular)? Burberry. When I saw this amazing cotton/canvas lightweight trench from their Burberry Brit collection, my heart grew two sizes. After I added it as a favorite, I constructed a whole outfit around it–classic skinny jeans in a medium wash, silk-blend jewel toned sleeveless shell (carelessly tucked in the front for effortless style), and nude pumps to keep the line of the leg long. Add pretty studs and a high-ponytail, and you have success.

Sigh.

Well, I’ll have to admire this piece from afar, on my computer screen, until I get an answer from a publisher or literary journal that isn’t “At this time..” Ha!

DIOR creative director john galliano is officially booted to the head!

Dear John Galliano: Don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way out! On second thought, I hope it does!

The flamboyant former Creative Director is officially on fire. Er, has been fired.

Paris Fashion Week was swirling with controversy this last week over Galliano’s shameful anti-Semitic tirade out at a Paris cafe. At first, Galliano was alleged by witnesses to be making the comments in a drunken haze, but after viewing the YouTube video that was released Monday morning, he seemed to be fully aware of what he was saying, and whom he was saying it to. A bleeped version can be viewed here, but it’s pretty offensive and disgusting.

He’s very clearly saying, “I love Hitler. You would be dead, your mother would be dead..” It’s ridiculous! And it prompted me to wonder whom he was talking to, as the hate in his voice was clearly audible. He in fact, kept telling the woman he was talking to that [these things should be permissible/should happen] simply because he felt she was “ugly” (which led me to believe he was referring to her being Jewish). Anyway, Dior remained silent over the matter until the investigation was conducted throughly, but after the release of the YouTube video, it seemed to be enough to make Galliano lie in the bed he made for himself.

VIEW THE SHOCKING VIDEO ABOVE!

As of this morning, according to New York Magazine‘s article, after 15-years with the company, he has been terminated, effective IMMEDIATELY. Sidney Toledano, Dior’s president and CEO, stated: “I condemn most firmly the statements made by John Galliano which are a total contradiction with the essential values that have always been defended by the House of Christian Dior.” As of now, Dior intends to proceed with its runway show in Paris this Friday.

Even Natalie Portman released a statement last night, condemning Galliano (which I thought was amazing of her): “I am deeply shocked and disgusted by the video of John Galliano’s comments that surfaced today… In light of this video, and as an individual who is proud to be Jewish, I will not be associated with Mr. Galliano in any way. I hope at the very least, these terrible comments remind us to reflect and act upon combating these still-existing prejudices that are the opposite of all that is beautiful.” [Thanks to New York Magazine for full quote.]

I was shocked to hear about how many individuals in the fashion world tried to come to Galliano’s defense in regards to his comments and behavior, which was completely inappropriate and is being dealt with accordingly. Hey Armani, hate to say it, but, THERE IS NEVER AN EXCUSE FOR RACIAL SLURS even if someone is having a “difficult time”.

And I thought it was so ironic that Giorgio Armani would be someone to speak out on Galliano’s behalf, considering Armani’s SS11 men’s collection, which is “Nazi” and Mussolini’s “Black Shirts” inspired. WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE? Fashion is about making statements, honoring what’s classic, and making room for what’s new, but I definitely believe there’s a line of appropriate that is crossed when a collection draws its inspiration from offensive periods of history. When is enough, ENOUGH? How can you give a fashion house props for designing pieces inspired by people who hated, persecuted and violently committed genocide on another group of people? Why is this being glorified?

I mean, at this point, they're just ASKING for it.

Ugh. I’m glad that Dior is being completely open and stringent with the matter and that Galliano is OUSTED. I’m excited to see who will replace him and his crazy legacy of loud “avant garde” collections. Sorry, we’re not all interested or excited by LADY GAGA-esque couture. The LA Times’ article ‘Tom Ford Gets Personal’ quoted it best, and in the words of the great Tom Ford, “I’m just trying to make pretty clothes. And beautiful clothes make beautiful women, but sometimes they don’t make fashion news. I don’t want to be pushed to think about what we have that’s new when we don’t need anything new except another version of what we did last year that still looks good to me.”

Well said, Tom. Well said.

where does the ignorance stop?

GEM of the day: Someone told me they bet “African-Americans” in Great Britain were treated better than some African-Americans here because of their “sophisticated” accents.

In my horror (considering how MANY things were wrong with this conversation all around), I politely noted that if someone is born in Britain, they’re BRITISH, not African-American, and if people are treated according to ONLY how they speak, we really need to consider how we judge people.

Of course, what the other person was suggesting was, “Because they sound more sophisticated, like a Caucasian person, they must be treated better.” WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? More equal? Guess what? We ARE all equals. However we choose to live our lives in the pursuit of legitimate success determines our worth and worthiness to ourselves and in society, NOT STIGMAS ABOUT HOW ONE SOUNDS OR MUST BE TREATED BECAUSE OF AN ACCENT.

Then I knocked their drink off the table into their lap. I was so disgusted it was palpable. The idiocy of the aside, combined with the general ignorance of thoughts borne into statements “THE AMERICAN WAY” just made me so sick.

I love America, but I’m embarassed when we choose to present ourselves as ignorant pigs. People, yes, we are a country of free speech and thought. But put some value on it. Seriously.

madison jennings for posh pulse magazine new york!

Well, I’m not a model, but.. I did this spread for Posh Pulse Magazine New York!

So, most of January has been whirling around me like a tornado (despite my Twitterfeed, which usually says I’ve been catnapping for 14 hours, days at a time), and it has been a few interesting weeks. New York has taught me some important lessons about people and situations, and more importantly, about how to just sit back, fold my arms behind my head and chill.

It was about two weeks ago that I discovered the key to slipping into the fashion industry’s grid is NOT to go looking for it. It just so happened that the apartment building I have been subletting at (for the time I’m in New York) also housed up and coming fashion magazine she-mogul, Alicia Davis of Posh Pulse Magazine. She happened to be good friends with the superintendent of the building (whom I was referred to by my close friend back in LA, Seneca Hart of Billboard Talent), and she happened to be paying him a visit when we met. Ern (the superintendent) introduced us, and I could immediately tell she worked in the industry. Every action she made told me that this 5’4″, serious young woman was a business pistol.

She quickly gave me a once over, and then gazed at me discerningly. Ern stood on and watched quietly, and I wondered briefly if I had done something UN-New York to have four pairs of eyes on me at once.

“How tall are you?” she shot off quickly in her Long Island accent. Quite the direct one, this woman.

I scratched my shoulder and shifted my stance, standing up a little straighter. “5’7″. Why?”

She continued to look, and then glanced at Ern, grinning. “Are you doing anything on Saturday?” she inquired.

“Uh, no.. Just showing my cousins around the city,” I said, remembering that they were coming to visit. She smiled wider.

“Well, I need another model for the spread I’m shooting for the February issue of my magazine. It’s too late for me to hold another casting call, and it’s Spring/Summer 2011. I think you’d be perfect for the line of samples I’ll have.”

‘Me?’ I thought. ‘The 5’7″ California girl here on vacation in the dead of winter?’ I unconsciously sucked in my stomach at the word “samples”.

I agreed to come shoot with her, not really sure what to expect. Of course, I’d worked in the industry back home in LA under the guise of fashion recruiting, fashion PR & entertainment, but always behind the scenes, never really in front of the camera (usually out of disinterest and general laziness).

“Perfect,” she said. “IF anyone asks you, you’re 5’8″. What’s your dress and shoe size? We’ll be shooting from 11am-3pm, location to be disclosed.”

And that was that.

The shoot itself was exciting and fun–we were holed up in this gorgeous, white washed studio down in TriBeCa (Triangle Below Canal Street — New York loves to abbreviate everything). There were a total of five models shooting individual spreads (including me), and they were all really nice, down to earth people. The samples we shot in were made by designer Mika Albertini and her sister, who design their own fresh, flirty collection called Albertini Addiction.

This quick photo I snapped doesn't do these slinky pieces justice. <3

As Alicia and her head stylist, Yolanda, browsed through the rack of Spring/Summer samples, I found myself oogling the colorful pieces she was setting aside. Spandex, lame, chiffon — you name it, she picked it. Everything jumped out at me in bright prints, bold colors, stripes and designs, and I sat back and watched in interest as Alicia’s stylists and assistants set out the sample shoes and handmade accessories. Alicia told me to check out the shoes and pick some pairs that I liked (SCORE!), and I slipped on a neutral pair of leather stiletto sandals just as I was bustled over to Linda (the hairstylist) for hair. All of the sample size shoes were standard size 39 (I’m a 38 typically), so I tried to be careful not to lose a shoe as I stepped up into the chair and introduced myself to Linda, who greeted me with a friendly, wide smile.

“Girl, I was just saying to Yolanda (the head stylist) how cute your feet look in those shoes,” she said.

“I really like them, but they’re a whole size too big! I definitely couldn’t run from the police in these shoes,” I joked. A few of the girls around me laughed, and I couldn’t help but feel at home with the crew. We talked as I sat in the makeup chair, and then turned around to be pushed over to where they were doing makeup. I was immediately put in the hands of the fabulous Jamel, whose long lashes and flawless airbrushed skin were to die for. Alicia told him she wanted my makeup fairly neutral (she really wanted to see the Asian in me), but to give me really red, juicy lips. It sounded exciting. Jamel was a total pro as I watched him mix his foundations and blend powers–it definitely felt glamorous to be sitting in the makeup chair with nothing to do but bat my lashes and pucker my lips, all the while, taking sips of bottled apple juice from the kraft table.

Jamel Thomas is a genius and an expert. They really wanted to bring the Filipino out!

As one of the other models, Sue Tsai was being shot with a piano prop, in a cute black lace slip dress, I sat while Jamel expertly applied bright red lipstick and clear gloss to my lips. Her publicist was on set with her while she was being shot, and filmed a short video in the downstairs studio. (At about 1:57 into the video, they caught me over in the corner having my makeup touched up by Jamel. Hee! )

That’s me in the corner. Ha.

“BooBoo,” he started affectionately, “If your gloss starts to drip, just wipe from the bottom of your lip and keep shooting. Your lipstick will stay in place, I promise!” He was so adorable I wanted to pack him and take him back with me to LA.

I was reluctant to leave makeup, but I knew it was time for me to get dressed. Alicia handed me a racy mini dress off the rack, not something I’d typically choose for myself. It was a skin tight black mini, cut in the style of a one-shoulder. Around the top of the dress, a bright pink leopard print ruffle was sewn to accessorize. As I went to change into it, I discovered it was so tight I couldn’t wear a bra, so in my head was a mounting concern that if I moved too quickly in any fashion, either the dress would ride up and I’d look like wonder cheeks, or I’d fall out of the bodice and I’d be a wardrobe malfunction. I came back into the main studio taking Geisha-like steps to keep my shoes from falling off, and had one hand tugging the dress down and the other holding the top up. But.. despite all my fumbling..

I guess I was doing my job alright.

I shot two looks total–the second one was a bandeau and skirt combo–both made of the tightest spandex and lame I’d ever set eyes on. (Lord knows I don’t own any!) My photographer (a wisp of a girl with exotic eyes and a shy smile) Nina (owner of Plum Porcupine Photography), grinned at me after I came back into the room the second time, looking like what I was sure was a girl that had been wrapped in 90s print SARAN WRAP.

By that time, two tall, slender twins with really cool sunglasses had come in and were in hair, hanging out and talking to the crew. They turned out to be Coco & Breezy–the fashionable/futuristic wonder twins that started designing their own sunglasses and accessories and became celebrity favorites. We all sipped our juice and traded stories about where we were from (it turned out when they visited LA, they didn’t like it all that much, haha!). They asked how we Angelinos were able to live, wondering if we always worried about earthquakes and South Central LA shootings. (I simply told them not ALL of LA was riddled with gangbangers and drive by’s–and also, that the whole stereotype of LA being like that was best limited to the 80s and 90s, during the heavy reign of the LA Raiders and Ice Cube & NWA). I was surprised they were both so down to earth and laid back.

“That outfit is hot!” she said. I grinned sheepishly and shrugged, one hand tugging up the bandeau, which was fighting with my D tatas. “Um, now.. which one of these coats is yours?” she asked, looking around at the pile of clothing that belonged to me and the other models. I shrugged and anchored my neck to look past her.

“The black Michael Kors,” I said, pointing. She gathered it up, and handed it to me. I took it in confusion. Were we shooting my outfit with my coat on? That didn’t seem very Spring/Summer/Resort.

“Put it on,” she said. “We’re shooting this look outside. Alicia’s orders.”

I glanced wildly around the room, wondering if that was a joke. It was 29 degrees, and 2:00 in the afternoon IN TRIBECA. Alicia assured me it was not a joke, nudged me to get into my coat, and waved Nina and me away. I shrugged my coat on, and climbed the main stairs of the studio to go up to the main level and through the lobby to reach the entrance.

As the receptionist opened the door for us, the unforgiving January chill of New York blasted at my legs. I could literally feel my blood vessels shrinking in the body and my legs started screaming in protest. I trudged behind Nina in gold rope wedges, tugging my skirt down as she scouted for a backdrop to shoot against on Church Street. When she finally found what she wanted, she grinned at me, and said knowingly, “Alright. Take a deep breath, count to three, and then take your peacoat off and throw it to me.” I swallowed a high pitched squeal, puffed a few breaths, and then did as she told me.

That was when the real work began.

It’s funny what you’ll make your body do when you know you have a job to accomplish. Standing outside in the middle of one of Tribeca’s busiest blocks, in 29 degree (and dropping) weather, made up in bright makeup and wearing resort clothing, I shot frame after frame until I gave Nina what she wanted. And it was slow going, with the wind whipping my hair to and fro. More than once, she had to stop shooting to held me unstick my hair from my lipstick and make sure I still had ample coverage.

When I finally got to the point where I couldn’t feel my fingers or toes, I shouted to Nina over the wind, “Alright! Time out! I think I may be officially FROZEN!” She took pity on me and handed me back my coat, but I was so cold I couldn’t properly stick my arms in it, so she just rushed me back to the studio.

I now know that I can never say models don’t DO WORK, SON. It’s not easy. Frame after frame, hold it, more this, less that, chin down, relax your shoulder, RINSE, REPEAT. When I scurried off to change, Nina and Alicia started going through some of the frames, which must’ve been good, because when I came back (my feet stuffed back into my comfy Uggs), Alicia looked at me, smiling, and said, “Good job outside. Your pictures don’t look like you’re cold.” Nina smiled, and I said, “Well, I must’ve been doing my job, then!” It was exhilarating and amazing.

Alicia laughed and nodded her head. “You belong in New York. I hope you’ll be able to come to a few shows I’m going to cover for Fashion Week. February.”

I was reeling from the invite. And I’m still figuring out how to work it out, since I’m due to come back home to LA in two weeks.

We’ll see what happens. So much has been happening I haven’t really been able to take a break from any of it. And tomorrow I’m observing a rooftop shoot, plus Alicia’s “LETTER TO THE EDITOR” photo shoot page and spread. Yesterday night, she brought in the samples that she’s using for the shoot tomorrow, so she’d texted me and said, “I need a model. I want you to try on all the samples I have so I can see what will look good on the girls tomorrow.” It was a really fun session too–I just tried on samples and accessories while she looked on with her expert eye for who is going to wear what tomorrow. (The designer of these samples is the same woman in Queens that designs for Nicki Minaj, and made custom sunglasses for one of Lady Gaga’s videos. Pictures tomorrow, promise!)

Everything moves so fast, it’s like, if I close my eyes for one second, a million things happen around me. Now I finally understand the whole, NEW YORK MINUTE reference.

Can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings!

dolce vita sample sale! SCORE!

You have to love those days where you get good news mixed with annoying news.

Good news: I was able to log onto Daily Candy’s SWIRL sample sale site this morning to check out their BLOWOUT Dolce Vita clothing sale! I’ve been wanting a silk romper for quite some time, but with a $200 price tag and no job, I couldn’t really justify the means. But, seeing that everything was discounted so DEEPLY ($29!!), how could I resist?? I was able to snap up what may have been the last medium in the Dema romper. It is so cute, I cannot WAIT to break it in for Spring/Summer. But anyway, after this? I’m in total savings mode.

100% silk, 100% mine. YES.

Annoying news: I received another “better luck next cycle” letter from one of the many publishers I submitted to before I took off from LA. But I’m not really worried. One of these days, my story will find a literary journal that it was absolutely made for. The meantime is just really.. sigh. Irritating.

I’m happy to report I’ve been slowly catching up on sleep, which is unheard of in the City That Never Sleeps.
And I must tell tell tell about the fabulous Tuesday night I had with my two favorite, fabulously gay besties at The SoHo Grand Hotel (private party), B Bar (cute joint!) and then, the dazzling midtown favorite, THE BOX (scintillating shows with interesting performers). More to come (after I catch more ZzZzzzzz’s..)!

exploring hell’s kitchen.

On Monday night, I met up with the old Editor In Chief of my college newspaper, Shawn. We had briefly talked when I had moved to LA and was working in fashion recruiting (June) but hadn’t spoken much since then. In college, we’d worked at The Highlander together, and he’d played intramural sports with my musically inclined cousin, Eric.

Anyway, after I’d taken a picture of the snowy NY weather, he’d commented on how he didn’t dig the wind and the cold. We exchanged a few messages, and decided to meet up for food and drinks if I was in the city. Since the 7-day unlimited metrocard that my Kuya Roland had purchased for me (during their weeklong trip here) wasn’t due to expire until Tuesday, I decided to stop moping around in Brooklyn (missing my family, missing LA) and make use of the time left on the pass. Plus, it would be good to see a familiar face and to hang out!

Originally, it had been my plan to go into Greenwich while he was at work to grab some coffee, spend some time hanging in the village by myself to decompress from having to be anyone’s city guide. But I slept late (finally had a full 8-hour block of sleep, thanks to those sleeping pills I bought), felt grubby, and generally didn’t look forward to hopping in the shower or even getting dressed. Instead, bumming around in my Kuya’s oversized black sweats (he left them behind for me) and my black thermal, I wasted time watching The Cleveland Show, ignoring my grad loan reminder statements and deleting emails I wasn’t interested in reading. I’d also received four more publishing rejection letters since I’d been gone–thanks for all the good news, life back in LA! >:/

Since the plan wasn’t to meet Shawn until 7ish, I knew I had time to chill out. It actually felt good for a change to just veg out alone in my dark cozy room, away from the frantic GO-GO-GO pace of Manhattan. I just roll my eyes when people liken the pace to LA. Even Hollywood doesn’t feel like this to me. The more I think about it, the more I find myself missing home. Hard.

When I finally dragged myself out of bed and had finished getting ready, I hustled over to the subway and squeezed onto the C headed uptown with a few moments to spare. We had planned to meet up in his neighborhood, Hell’s Kitchen, and to explore 9th Avenue (which Shawn aptly noted later, “There’s nothing here I’ve had that’s been amazing, but everything is consistently good.”). Rudy’s Bar & Grill seemed to be a popular spot in the neighborhood, so that’s where we agreed to go.

But, as soon as I got there.. wouldn’t you know it? Rudy’s turned out to be closed, so we walked across the street to another dive, called REDEMPTION (I think). Following the sign, we ducked into a narrow, dull lit hallway, both looking around for where to go. A lone bouncer glanced in the doorway at us, and pointed to two unremarkable grey doors.

“Down there, guys.”

Grinning sheepishly, I made a grab for the door, and we both had a laugh over our confusion.

Venturing down the stairs, we walked into a low lit, cheerful (CLEAN) bar that was more like a drinker’s “ISLANDS” than a dive bar. There were candles and tikis and surfboard pictures everywhere, and the whole place seemed really warm and inviting. We took two seats at the end of the bar and were immediately greeted and handed a menu. It was happy hour AND game night.. Even better. We ordered sliders and fish tacos to start (both REALLY GOOD) and had a round of beers. Part of the Monday game night was if you ordered a Sessions beer, you’d play a round of rock, paper, scissors (there really was a picture of a rock, paper, or pair of scissors underneath each bottle cap, and you’d go up against the bar tender to see who won. If you won, you got a free shot of Tiki rum). I was amazingly bad at it. I kept staring at the caps and mixing them up and cheering if I thought I won, but actually didn’t (probably also a case of the alcohol flooding my system).

We talked about work, about moving, about the ventures of the mid-twenties. When asked about when and what kind of work I was going to eventually go back to, I shrugged.

“Truthfully, I don’t WANT to go back to work,” I said. “And I don’t want to see the inside of another office again.”

Shawn laughed. “You know you’ll have to, eventually, do something right?”

I nodded, but I didn’t like the idea. I mean, could I afford to play my whole life? Definitely not. In the LA LA land in my head, did I want to? Emphatic yes, every day.

Out of the, what, 6-7 times we played, Shawn must’ve won once or twice. In the end, we won a round of Tiki rum shots (I poured mine into coke to avoid acting silly–you know, the whole beer before liquor, never sicker..) and then later the owner went around pouring tequila sunrises for all the patrons (which I took like a man, around beer 4, I think). We were given Tiki beads by the girl bar tender (whom I had a conversation with about Madewell & J Crew jewelry–amazing!).

He was so COOL, the owner. When I asked what the free shot was for, he said, “I see a lot of people come and go, but I think you two might be the first normal, intelligent young people/friends I’ve seen enjoying their drinks and having a normal conversation. I like you guys.” It was a very nice compliment. It felt good to just talk about work and life and moving and leaving behind what we were in college to just break out and live.

After we bailed from the bar, we walked around Hell’s Kitchen in pursuit of ice cream (me), but ended up getting a few slices of hot cheese pizza. It was fun to just sit around and muse and joke and eat with no pretense. Afterwards, he showed me to the nearest subway station, we said our goodbyes and I hopped on the nearest express train (A) back to Brooklyn, Tiki beads in hand and beer buzz on the brain. It was a fun Monday. Although, the next day when I woke up, the only thing that bothered me was the fact that I couldn’t actually recount how many beers I’d had total.

I’m pretty sure it was only like, 4 or 5. IF that. Again. I think.

all good things must come to an end.

The rest of the week I spent showing my cousins Roland & Jindy New York City was amazing. Now that it’s all over and they’re on their way back to LA and I’m back in my apartment in Brooklyn by myself, it feels empty. I’m not going to lie–I’m a little sad.

Tastiest food on the Upper East Side!

Yesterday and Friday were a blast. Friday was GO GO GO on the Upper East Side–from eating waffles and fried chicken for dinner at the famous Brooklyn Diner (in Manhattan, haha) to taking pictures of Carnegie Hall, they really got a dose of the “NYC” that portrayed romantically in movies and on TV (unless you’re watching Law & Order). We gawked at 5th Avenue, got massages in Chinatown, had doughnuts at the Doughnut Plant on the Lower East Side, and caught snowflakes on our tongues. We wrapped Friday night with pictures in Rockefeller Center and cupcakes at Magnolia Bakery, then headed to Times Square for the obligatory “touristy” stuff and dinner at (delicious) Ruby Foo’s.

Snow feet on the Upper West Side, after dinner at Shake Shack.

Saturday, since I had some business in Tribeca, I left Roland and Jindy to explore the trains and get to Central Park on their own. After a brief mixup on the C train, they made it to 7th & 57th and headed into the park. They told me about how it snowed on them (cute!) and how they saw the frozen pond and took pictures with all the monuments that are peppered in and out of the south end of the park. When I met up with them, we made our way through Columbus Circle (impossible to hail a cab here) and onto the subway to The American Museum of Natural History to the Shake Shack (YUMMMM!!!) on the Upper West Side for dinner. I might have had the best stuffed burger that’s ever been made. We gorged on burgers and beers, booed the Saints (the football game was on) and enjoyed being out of the snow.

Seeing them off at JFK was what really did it. We spent the morning getting their things packed, and then headed up to Williamsburg for our goodbye breakfast/brunch. We were going to go to this cute cafe called Egg, but the line was way too long with the Sunday breakfast crowd. Not to be deterred, we walked around the corner of 5th Street and Bedford Avenue, and stumbled upon an even smaller place called New York Muffins. It had a cheerful yellow banner hung up across its bright awnings, and the front windows showed a few of Williamsburg’s resident hipsters inside, sipping lattes and eating bagels. We popped in here for breakfast, and wound up sitting around our tiny circle table, sipping coffee and sharing our bagels and muffins. It was sunny and mild today, so the sun that came in through the long front windows felt good. We had a good rotation set up too–take a bite of onion bagel, pass, bite of smoked salmon bagel sandwich, pass, bite of tomato and pesto bagel sandwich, pass, sip coffee, rinse & repeat. Everything was warm and the bread was soft and freshly baked.

Me, Kuya Roland and Ate Jindy in the subway.

After we finished eating, we sat around, chatting about our adventures, our lives, our family. That was when I started to feel the tug that typically gets me when I know or have been away from home for a long time. We were laughing after a stupid joke my Kuya cracked (what’s new?) and in the midst of that, I felt like time had frozen. It was the sunshine on our faces, the bold smell of coffee and toasted bread in the background that I realized in a few hours, they would be on their way back to LA, and I would be riding the L train by myself out of JFK, transferring to the C at the Broadway Junction, and heading back to sleepy Brooklyn all alone.

From the food we ate to the sights we saw, I made all new memories and it was great. It’s so weird as I sit here and think about how fast it was from Thursday to today. Now I’m sitting at the keyboard, looking at the all pictures we took in the moment of things and crying. I just couldn’t help myself. When we gave our last hugs and said our last I love yous and goodbyes, walking away to the tunnel for the subways, I had to struggle not to cry. I’m sure I looked stupid facing the elevators full of people flocking into the airport with big watery eyes and my hands shoved deep into my peacoat pockets. I just tried to pull my fur hat down further on my head and I kept my eyes on the ground. Sometimes recalling happy moments are the ones that make me the most emotional.

Tomorrow, I’ll be headed off to D.C. with Cliff to visit his cousin Dan and his wife, Daviana. That will be fun–haven’t been to D.C. & Virginia since this time last year, so another road trip down there will be cool. Then, to prepare for this weekend.. especially if I have more family coming to visit! Woo hoo!

to do list.

Since my cousins got here, I’ve been eating like royalty. Pretty sure my body is screaming in protest. Sweet torture.

Things to do: skip eating Magnolia Bakery goodies we got today, stop drinking mocha lattés (I always go on a damn kick in phases!), and go back to fruit and cereal once they leave. THANKYOUVERYMUCH.

Guh.

More about adventures in babysitting tomorrow!

adventures in babysitting!

Day one of “Escort Kuya Roland and Ate Jindy around the city safely” was safely executed.

Being that we all got up on time (my room is cozily heated–maybe a little too cozy, which can make it hard to get up and out into the cold), we were able to stuff a lot of stuff into Thursday (if you knew this family, you’d see why it was a win. We’re..notoriously lazy). We got a lot done today, which I mean to say, is we conquered all of lower Manhattan. We started out with coffee and breakfast at Dean & DeLuca in SoHo (where I snacked on a chocolate doughnut and grande soy mocha latte–yummy!) and then I dragged them around strategically (according to the end of my “shopping fast”).

I see you coming, snow!

I laid siege to a couple of key places, including but not limited to: Daffy’s, Topshop (almost bought two pairs of shoes here.. I held off because they were both styles of pumps and strappy sandals I already HAVE), and Bloomingdale’s. I stopped into Victoria’s Secret PINK because I REALLY wanted to buy the boyfriend sweatpants from the PINK LOVES THE NFL collection (already on sale for 40% off!), except, SURPRISE–the SoHo store only had two teams out of the 15 they carry in stock: Jets and Giants.

BOO! What does a girl have to do to get her Cowboys sweats? Sheesh!

Best pizza in NY! Well, my favorite, at least.

It was a nice day, but I could tell the cold was a little sharper than yesterday. Most of the day was clear, but when we got into Greenwich Village, I could see the storm blowing in. We ventured through and stopped at Bleecker for lunch (my favorite pizza place, and now theirs too), where I tried to coax my Kuya into buying me a Blue Moon (didn’t happen.. oh well). I was also able to treat myself to a little something–since I held off on the shoes at Topshop, I was able to snap up the woven sweater I’ve been obsessing over at 7 For All Mankind! I was literally jumping up and down with joy (and it went further on sale! WINNING!) while my Kuya watched and shook his head.

“Really?” he mused. “Over.. a sweater?”

“YES, OVER A SWEATER,” I snapped. “It’s more than 50% off. DER!” As if that were explanation enough. I was so happy as I hoisted the grey bag with my new treasure over my shoulder, I even skipped out on the famously moist cupcakes of The Magnolia
Bakery because I felt like I’d been that good.

I wisely stayed out of Juicy Couture (even though there was nothing I wanted from there) and bypassed all of the Marc Jacobs Collection stores. That’s how satisfied I was. I only wanted the one sweater. Whee!

Lady Liberty.

The middle of the day was reserved for the Financial District and The World Trade Centers. The whole experience was moving and emotional. To see the remains of what once was, the buildings that are already rising up where there were only ashes, and to see that people have no other desire but to move forward and do better for the WTC collective than they did before was really amazing. Just taking pictures of the buildings in progress and seeing so many hard New Yorkers at work was rewarding in itself. Shortly after, we visited the 9/11 Memorial Preview, where they showed videos of people telling their stories after the tragedy and showcased the names of people who had fallen in the attack.Various memorabilia was on display around the room. I couldn’t help but get a little teary eyed watching the videos.

We rounded the day off by warm bowls of steaming, tasty ramen in NoHo at the locals favorite Ippudo, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of NYU students and the early dinner crowd. We were going to try to venture into Queens to check out the famous Max and Mina’s Ice Cream Parlor, but it looks like we’ll have to save that adventure for Saturday. Now, we’re going to kick our feet up, break out some snacks and watch some GLEE (if I don’t fall asleep first).

long island rail road.. almost missed it!

Today my Kuya Roland (my cousin, but more like my older brother) and his wife are coming into town. I slept all day trying to make the clock go faster–that’s how excited I was.

I’d even made sure to map out how I was going to get to JFK to meet them at their terminal. But I thought it would be a better idea to ask my roommate, Ern, to walk me to the right subway station (considering yesterday’s party foul).

Upon leaving the apartment, I mentioned that the station I needed to get to JFK by 5pm.

“Wait, JFK? In 30 minutes?” It was 4:15 by that time. “Why does your map say Atlantic-Babylon? Why don’t you just take the subway to Port Authority?”

I shrugged. Why would I? I just wanted to do what my map said. Shaking his head, we walked to the Kingston-Throop subway stairs. I hesitated a little bit, not sure if this was what I should do. I did not want to be late.

Even Ern was a little iffy on what trains would transfer where. He asked a girl standing by. After being informed that I’d have to take several transfers and that it would take an hour to get to JFK. Noooooooo!

Time (and one metrocard fare lost), we hustled out of the subway and onto Atlantic Ave. to get straight to the Long Island Rail Road (or, LIRR). I managed to catch up to the LIRR before it left for Jamaica. I must’ve stood in front of the damn ticket machine for 10 minutes before I could determine which train ticket to buy. Peak? Off peak? Arriving in NYC Departing in NYC?

WTF? How was I supposed to know? All I knew was that I was in Brooklyn, and needed to get to JFK. Google Maps started spewing some crazy stuff on my phone, so after asking a lady bystander for some ticket help (thanks, Ern) I was on my way.

Before getting on the train (I wanted to be super sure) I asked the conductor if the LIRR went to Jamaica (in Queens.. Which is where you pick up the AirTrain to get to JFK), and, after staring at me stoically for a moment, nodded yes. I rolled my eyes and tossed my head. Then, went to find a seat.

I don’t think public transportation has ever made me so anxious before! I never read or listen to my headphones because I’m paranoid I’m going to miss the damn train!