She suggested it... I did it

For the past several posts I have been asking for suggestions concerning things to do my last few weeks in the city. For as many people as I know read this blog, only one person has given me any response. And to her I am thankful, but really, all suggestions are still welcome.
Last week my aunt sent me an e-mail with a list of things to do on any given day of the week.
I woke up without a plan, without a single intention for the entire day. Before I let myself rent another movie on iTunes and crawl back into bed to hibernate, which was Sunday's list of activities, I got on my computer and began uploading pictures from the past weekend. In the process I checked some older e-mails that I had forgotten about and stumbled upon all of the suggestions my aunt had supplied.

Thus I had a schedule for the day. After showering and getting ready, I headed to the Flower District. When I got off the train I wasn't sure which direction I should go, so I chose what I thought was east and started walking. Before seeing a single petal the scent of the city had made a 180 degree turn. Roses, hyacinths, and cala lillies, galore. I picked up my pace and got my camera out. There really is nothing like it anywhere else in the city. It reminded me of Papa's greenhouse but in the middle of a metropolis. I ducked into different wholesalers and flower houses and chatted with several shop owners. I watched one man make arrangements three feet in height, with bamboo, moss, and touches of color from hyacinths. Breathtaking.
Palms lined the sidewalks which gave shade to boxes of rose petals that were being bought by the ounce. Baskets, bamboo, and sticks of all shapes and colors were lining store windows to inspire any floral decorator to walk through the door. What is now left of the flower district (predominantly 27th st. between 6th ave. & 7th ave.), was easy to enjoy and reminded me of fond childhood memories.

After walking up and down 27th st. I headed for my next destination, Big Nicks. Located at 77th and Broadway, Big Nicks is open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week and has cheap food. It was mid-afternoon and I sat outside in the shade enjoying the nice breeze and gazed over the 23 page menu, which predominantly included "unbeatable beefburgers." Looking over and over the menu, I searched for a turkey burger and came up short. So, Dad, I embraced the beef and ordered a cheeseburger. Be proud, I clearly haven't given up on red meat, just taken a hiatus. I lingered at Big Nicks for over an hour reading, writing, and people watching. It was very relaxing.

Next on my aunt's list was Zabar', conveniently located a couple blocks away from Big Nicks. She also had Filene's Basement on the list, but I found that on my own a while a go, and emptied my wallet at the Union Square location on Monday, thus I passed the one on the Upper West side, but I did not pass up Zabar's. I could outfit my entire kitchen, refrigerator, and pantry at Zabar's. I managed to snag a few gifts for people and wander around aimlessly for nearly an hour. It soon became a little crowded for my liking and since I was done shopping I slipped out and began heading back downtown to my neck of the woods.

Yet another book

So my reading list continues. I cannot recall ever reading this much in such a short period of time, but with the subway rides, and waiting on trains, etc. reading is the easiest way to kill time... and avoid eye contact with people.

Thus far I have finished:

• Julie Kraut & Shallon Lester's Hot Mess: Summer in the City
  
• Timothy Keller's The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism
• Lily Koppel's Red Leather Diaries
• Pete Hamil's Forever
• Pete Hamil's Downtown
• William Golding's Lord of the Flies (for the tenth time)
• Letters to a Young Artist

This last book I got on Monday at P.s.1 and is a quick read. For anyone aspiring to achieve their life goals and ambitions, I suggest reading Letters to a Young Artist. A young man a year out of college moved across the country to New York City to pursue his art as a career. He feels compelled to write artists who have once been in his shoes. Several weeks later he actually gets a response. Soon after he begins writing other artists for words of wisdom, passion, and integrity.
The small book contains twenty-three letters from artists across the world, from Stephen Shore, Yvonne Rainer, Yoko Ono, to Guerrilla Girls and Xu Bing.

Words of wisdom I particularly valued:
Young artist to be,
"You should have grandiose ideas about your future success. No one with small ambitions and vague goals ever amounted to much in this game." -Kerry James Marshall, Chicago

Dear Young Artist,
"New York is a tough city. It is complex and beautiful. Cities are amazing and brutal. We love cities. They survive, we survive. Each individual finds a way alone or with the help of others.
One must know when deciding to beome an artist-it is an irresistible attraction that there are no guarantees of success, rewards, recognition, etc. One chooses or is drawn to a life of producing works that have no practical use in a largely indifferent world. The way is not easy or comfortable. To be an artist you must love art-and you must respect and find a haven for yourself in your work." -Joan Jonas, New York

Dear Y.A.,
"...The real importance lies in the question, 'How can I write in ways that contribute?'...Everything else follows. Good luck to us," -Jimmie Durham, Berlin

Dear Young Artist,
"...Good luck. You are already succeeding just by attempting." -Elizabeth Murray, New York

Monday, fun-day, with a touch of seriousness. Can you handle it?

Monday was one of my favorite days I have had this summer. It mixed many of my favorite things: art, architecture, design, exploration, and adventure. I traveled to Long Island City, Queens to visit P.S.1 Contemporary Art Center, an affiliate of MoMA. One of my favorite teachers last semester told me that my summer would not be complete if I did not make the trip. I thought she might have been playing up the fact that her sister, Alanna Heiss, founded P.S.1 in 1971 as the Institute for Art and Urban Resources, Inc.

Well, my professor was not merely shining light upon her sister, because the museum has become a new obsession of mine. It could easily be my favorite, but in a whole different spectrum of museums. The building is unique, as it was the first public school in New York. The architecture and restoration were as mesmerizing as the interpretations of socio politics and culture of the 1960s, which is a current exhibit that is heart felt, gut wrenching, and leaves the soul wanting more.

My favorite exhibit that I saw is called "That Was Then... This is Now." Split up into three sections, flags, weapons, and dreams, an "international group of artists, spanning 4 decades mobilized art as a means of change."

"That was Then... This is Now, situates theses representations as central to artists collective aspiration towards progress, as it examines political hopes and the ambiguity of symbols meant to imply consensus."

Unless you have a media pass, no one can take pictures of the installations or anything in the exhibits for that matter. As I was sitting on the floor in awe of Controller of the Universe (picture at the left), a hanging sculpture consisting of old tools and weapons (some literally rusted and discolored and out of production), I notice a man taking pictures from every angle. I tried not to get annoyed, but it was seriously starting to bother my flow of thoughts. *Side note: I'm writing a paper on P.s.1 for my final project of the summer.* Anyways, before I decided to get mad, I see the P.s1 employee chatting with them about the piece. His accent was very strong and his English was somewhat broken.

A light bulb went off in my head and I figured it out. The man taking pictures was, Damian Ortega, the artist of the sculpture and not to mention a well known artist originally from Mexico. Once I put the pieces of the puzzle together I tried to "slowly" approach him (we were the only ones in the room), and ask him twenty questions about the piece.

The dream section of the exhibit was as if Martin Luther King Jr.'s speech had come alive. The reality that the power for equality and the right to vote was once a dream for women and African Americans has pus history in much more perspective. To see the feeling and passion as art is much more powerful than reading in a text book.
I took many deep breaths while I was in the room of dreams because what many of us, including myself take for granted, was once many American's dream.

The flag portion of the exhibit struck a few cords with me. Being raised in Southern suburbia America, I have been raised seeing the flag on a flag pole, raised above school yards, front lawns, churches, etc. All of which consist of thirteen stripes and fifty stars, with the universal colors of red, white, and blue.

Walking into the room I was faced with a police car hanging upside down from the ceiling, viewable from all angles. I turned to my left and see a flag made of aluminum foil. It still had thirteen stripes and fifty stars. Did it hold the same meaning? What about a water color that had dots painted for the stars, but all the colors remained true?
Or what about Lovett Codagnone's, Stripped, hand stitched cotton and satin flag which had thirteen strips was completely black?

Does the meaning of the flag change by an artists interpretation? It isn't my place to say it does or it does not, because I am only one person and can only speak for myself. But to me, the flag stands for camaraderie, freedom, courage, justice, heritage, achievement, and future perseverance.

Hopefully, you've all enjoyed my deep thinking for the day. Monday was really an awesome experience and I got to think a lot about art and America's history and I am very glad I took my professor's advice, because I would have regretted not going. Put it on your list next time you visit.
Even if contemporary art isn't your niche, the architecture is out of this world.

too busy vs. too bored

Okay so there really is no way of being bored in New York, but today my plans got cancelled because P.S.1 isn't opened on Tuesday's or Wednesday's and my day was left wide open. Completely open. Since both of my roommates were at work and I wasn't in the mood to go uptown or have to run through crowds of tourists in mid-town, I decided to explore more of the lower east side. 

I walked past a few parks, several schools, exploring more of my neighborhood.  I walked about a mile and a half and then stumbled upon Sugar Sweet Sunshine, a bakery that specializes in cupcakes. It is much like Magnolia Bakery but so much better. Haynes told me about it when I first moved here and I have read about it several times in local articles. Until

 now I had totally forgotten about it. 

Side note: It is the perfect place I would take Mimi -- pumpkin cupcakes and chai tea -- not to sweet, but just the right amount of sugar to make the icing perfect! Unfortunately I was there alone, so I bought one for each of my roommates so we could try a few, and I could surprise them when they returned from work. (Also half the price of Magnolia... and for everyone at home, these cupcakes win hands down to C on K... wink, Mickey). 

So after my morning of wondering what I was going to do all day, I found Sugar Sweet Sunshine. And if you are addicted to Magnolia or think it is the only cupcake that exists in the city, please take a step on the wild side and explore other options. My preference -- the pistachio cupcake!  

So after indulging in a cupcake and ordering in grilled fish for dinner with my roommates, I got a burst of energy (I know, weird, right?) and went running along the east river. *Disclaimer: for all of those concerned, there were tons of people running, it was light outside, it was one block from my apartment, and I'm still alive.* It was a fantastic run. The river had a few waves but by the sky it was noticeable a storm is nearing. 

P.S.1 is moved to this weekend, in case you were wondering. 

Added to my list of things to do before I leave is the Flower District... anyone else have suggestions? 

Busy bee turned sleeping beauty

And on the the seventh day Maggie rested. Today is the first day in over four weeks that I have had nothing, and I mean nothing to do. No plans. Nothing set in stone that I am required to do. And let me tell you it is a great feeling. But nonetheless I found myself awake at 9 a.m. this morning getting ready and meeting Haynes on the corner about 45 minutes later to go to church. (I can't really go a whole day without any plans...). The church was a lot like The Crossing in Columbia but much much smaller and local. The sermon was awesome, and I plan on going back. Prior to today I have worked and moved non stop! 

Friday I had the day off of work to go on a media tour with about ten people from Missouri to visit different publications and media fields. 

But before the tours began I went to the Miley Cyrus concert in Bryant Park for Good Morning America. Yes, yes I did. It was fantastic. I throughly enjoyed myself. It was so crowded and mothers and daughters everywhere but

 I was able to sly my way up as far as I could, for as late as I got there - 7 a.m. I stood next to a mother of twins who were seven years old and adorable. 

The mother was switching daughters between songs on who would get on her back to actually see Miley. It was really cute, but sad for the twin that didn't get to see. So, I offered my assistance. 

Being a Miley fan myself, Sadie got on my back and we sang every song together and she and her sister both were able to see. Look at our picture... isn't she adorable? 

We began at Billboard magazine and made our way to Editor and Publisher, The NY Times, ELLE Magazine, New York Stock Exchange, and a couple others. Needless to say I grabbed a cab home close to 6 o'clock and was asleep in my bed by 6:30. My intentions were merely to take a nap and go out later in the evening, but my body did not agree, because I did not wake up until nearly 11 a.m. Saturday morning. I guess you could say I was tired? 

Well, after a very nice long night of sleep I caught up on some reading, finished another book, and read a few magazines before heading to work. Yesterday was my last day at Banana Republic, Soho. Don't worry, I have not quit, I am being transferred back to my home store and will pick up a few hours before I return to school. I can never really leave Banana.  Besides work, I came home and slept more. This weekend has really been a highlight -- please hence my sarcasm. 

Today is July 20 and I have about 25 days or so left.... I'm not actually going to count because that will make me sad, but my roommates and I are trying to make a list of things we must do before we leave, which, oops... we haven't done yet. So far the list consists of, Little Italy, Canal St. (Aunt Becka... comments welcome here), Jazz night at Bemelman's, Saks again... and seeing In the Heights. There are many more, but my list isn't next to me. If you have any suggestions let me know. I'm serious.

I have free time again and don't know what to do with it... so help me out. 

Tuesday I am going to P.S. 1 in Brooklyn - a part of MoMa, and am super excited! Look forward to a post about it. 

And she arrived in her bubble...

Oh the family. How I had forgotten how much I do miss them. What humor, sarcasm, flits, and taunts we all have... we are a unique clan. But one that I must say, I would never trade.

My ELDER sister, Mickey, arrived "in her bubble" and I'm not sure she ever left. Although we tried to pop it a few times, it remained intact, because she remained happy the entire trip. (Even at the Modern Museum of Art... which is a feat in itself).
Dad, what a trooper, and never a complainer. How does he live with three girls? We shopped and shopped and then shopped some more and he patiently said, "Oh, uh huh, that's cute." And gave his two cents when needed.
Mom... even though she has experienced NY several times, she got to experience NY in a whole new light. Soho, subways, the Lower East, Stuy Town, the way I do things. But I'm pretty sure liked it... after that first train ride.

The weekend was full of events, and I mean full. I am going to catching up on sleep for several days, due to my "father's" snoring, along with all the activites we took part in. Amazing restaurants, the theater (Wicked and South Pacific), Central Park, Soho, West Village, Greenwich Village, the Upper East and West, Midtown, Times Square, MoMA, and shopping, shopping, shopping. Oh and for dad, we did ESPN Zone -- except that we all really enjoyed it. (Picture of Dad playing interactive Golf).

The restaurants were terrific, and although I do not remember the name of all of them, my favorites included brunch at Ouest, lunch at the Central Park Boathouse, and dinner at Blue Hill. (Yes Dad, dinner the last night was my favorite, but the name of the restaurant was.....Forlidia?? Get back to me on that one.)

And to top off the visit from my parents we visited one of my Dad's favorite bars in the city, Bemelman's Bar, in th Carlyle Hotel. And then before taking a cab to the airport we had lunch in the Village at Pearl Oyster Bar: rich lobster rolls, decadent oysters, and awesome fries!

(Picture of family from Bemelman's Bar). It was a great treat to see my family and show them everything I love to do in the city. But I tell ya, I love having visitors, but it is exhausting. -- But don't worry I am catching up on sleep and will post again soon. But of course I can't leave out the picture of Mick and I with Haynes!

This is a great story.

Read the post before this one if you have not already, otherwise some of this post might not make sense.

D.C. was great. Steph and I definitely relaxed and got to watch Wimbledon, which was incredible, can we say women's finals 2003 repeat? Can we even bring up the men's finals? Unless you feel bad for Federer, do not talk to me. :)

Katie and Andrew were the best hosts for us over the weekend and let us lay around all weekend. After arriving at their house in Virgina on Thursday we finally ventured out on Saturday night. Yes, we hibernated until Saturday night. Andrew and Katie took us to Maggiano's. Awesome Italian food. A lot of Italian food. A lot of to-go boxes, but worth it.

**If you know me, my stories are usually long in person, so writing them, is just the same, get ready for a pretty good story that happened this past Sunday.

After our smooth sailing trip in VA and D.C., we took the metro into the city to catch our bus to get back into New York about 9:00 p.m. Sunday evening. Well, Sunday evening, turned into early Monday morning. And for a few hours Stephanie and I sat on the side of the New Jersey turnpike debating on whether or not our situation was worthy enough to put upwards of two hundred dollars on our "emergency" credit cards. Well, thanks to my cousin Katie, and some common sense, we didn't call a cab to take us an 95 minutes home. We waited and waited and waited for another bus to come.

Oh... would you like to know why we were sitting on the side of the NJ turnpike? Cruising along finishing up the Red Leather Diaries, listening to my ipod, Steph hits me, mid panic. "Do you smell that?" she said. I said yes, but really thought nothing of it and just took deeper breathes. Really I was too into the book to notice anything other than Florence's relationship with M and Nat (reference to the book). After telling her to ignore it, a few seconds later Steph is perked up looking back at the five rows of people behind us, who are also freaking out. "Something is burning!" "It smells like gas!" "It's really foggy," were the comments being shouted through the back of the bus. (Oh and one girl on the back row had her shirt covering her mouth and nose looked like she was going to pass out...).

"Hey bus driver, pull over." "Yo captain, something has to be wrong here." "He's not going to pull over and we're all going to die." I was in a bus full of over reactors and people who literally were ready to jump out of a 56 passenger bus moving 70mph along the NJ turnpike. Steph was shook up and I think was nervous because I wasn't. And not that I'm trying to act like i wasn't scared or anything but it was a very surreal situation. We were all taking very deep breaths and the back of the bus was very foggy and unclear, we knew something was wrong. Finally someone got the bus drive to pull over. He got out for a minute and came back on and started driving.

"What the hell driver!" "You have to tell us what happened." "We're paying for this ride, if something is wrong, I'm getting off," yelled random passengers near Steph and I. The bus driver said, I'm going to New York, Penn Station, the engine was fine, nothing is wrong.

By this point about ten minutes have passed and the front of the bus is annoyed because the smell and fog has not made it up there yet and people in the back are yelling and complaining. I was amused and entertained. I told Steph that we were going to get off. It wasn't a good situation to be in and we both wanted off. So I told her, once we get the driver to stop again we are going to grab our bags and just walk straight to the front and get off. The two nice British guys sitting next to us went up to talk to the bus driver a second time while he was driving because we had opened all of the emergency exit windows and vents in the ceiling for ventilation, and it was still there.

Completely annoyed with the back of the bus, the diver gets off the bus and gets on his cell phone. I tell Steph its our chance to get off and we'll just figure out what to do next when we get off. Of course I go up to the driver first and tell him, "I am getting of this bus right now." He said fine do whatever you want. I said okay, let me go get my stuff, and walk back to the back of the bus...

Stephanie and I grab our things and get off. We walk about 300 yards to a service station to see where we are. Not speaking the same language as the woman working, she printed off a reciept to inform us we were in Hamilton, NJ. (You'd think with my spanish background and Steph's french, we would have gotten somewhere, but no...we got no where with this lady). Continuing I call my cousin Katie back in VA because I knew this would worry my mother to death because she would not be able to help in any way possible.... except worry. So what she didn't know, didn't hurt her. *I did tell after we figured out what we were going to do.

(Okay I am going to make this go a little faster...) We had two options... wait about 2 hours for a cab that would cost upwards of $250 to be split between the two of us, or wait for another bus to come, oh, after about thirty minutes everyone else got off the bus and was told another bus would come in 3 hours or so.

So that was our decision. I had to work at Banana at 9:45 Monday morning and Steph had to be at work at 10:30 Monday so we both had to get home asap. Deciding against the cab, with the influence of cousin Katie, we waited on a bus. Thankfully Steph and I lucked out and two hours later, a bus came with, if i remember correctly, 10 spots on it. Steph and I creeped our way in and made it back to Penn Station a little after midnight.

In the middle of this bus ride our third roommate, Bridget called and told us, half the fuses in our apartment were blown. The only one working was the the one the AC is plugged into. THANK GOD! She had also been in D.C. for the weekend and had just gotten home. She filled us in that the train at Penn Station took about 20 minutes then the L train took about 15. Steph and I bypassed the subway entirely. We paid ten dollars took a cab and crashed when we got home, with full working fuses, thanks to Bridget.

It was an adventure hope you enjoyed reading that saga!

let me fill you in...

So I thought it would be an awesome idea to pick up a second job. *Disclaimer - I wasn't looking for a second job and no I don't need a second job, but they asked if I would like to work for them and it is the beloved Banana Republic and in fabulous SoHo. So really, how could I say no. But between my internship and BR, life is hectic. Crazy, to say the least. So I apologize for not updating as often. I came into work early this morning so I could post and not be late. (I so plan ahead for these things).

P.S. As many of you know I've worked at BR at home for about 2 years now, in comparison to the store in SoHo.... its like Christmas Eve shoppers everyday.Very cool to see how other stores operate.

This past weekend I took my roommate, Stephanie down to D.C. to visit my cousin and her husband, Katie and Andrew. We have seriously forgotten "the life suburbia." It was so quiet I had to put my ipod on or sleep with the TV on (not totally unusual for me though). Katie and Andrew had fifty or more of their friends over on the 4th for an Independence Day party which was a complete success. Rain could not stop the party from happening, and everyone's kids were so much fun. Steph and I even brought our Frisbee's down from the city and they were a big hit. It was an All-American celebration to say the least.
(Picture of Katie and I... well into the evening...clearly I've changed into a Cardinals T-shirt).

Besides the party, Steph and I caught up on TV watching, couch sitting, book reading, and nap taking. It was perfect. I mentioned last time the book, Red Leather Diaries... Steph and I both read it and overall I give it a seven. It started off awesome and ended awesome, but I think the author left a few gaps out towards the end and I was left asking to many questions. So overall I give it a seven, but still, a must read. What can I say, I'm a tough critic?

More to come later in the day.... promise