Tag Archives: living in new york is neat

Renegade Craft Fair 2009

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Our friend Emily introduced my friend Beth and me to the Renegade Craft Fair last year, but I had absolutely no money at the time and bought only a $2.50 ice cream cone (which is what ice cream should cost) and an $8 plastic strawberry necklace (that broke on me after the second wear, but nevermind that).

This year, though, I brought stacks of cash with me and was ready to do all of my Christmas shopping like Emily does. But instead I bought only things for myself.


A pair of houndstooth button earrings for $5 from Cherry Red Boutique that I happen to be wearing today.


An Abe Lincoln pendant from traveling rhinos for $25 that I thought was pretty much the greatest thing at the fair and told the guy at the booth. He agreed and said he couldn’t believe it wasn’t the first thing sold.


A pair of silver hot dog earrings marked down from $12 to $7 also from traveling rhinos, because I’m always buying hot-dog-related items for Tracey and decided it was my turn.


And this amazing, amazing wallet from 31 Corn Lane that lists for $25 on their site but sold for $10 at the fair. It has a life-changing amount of pockets, and I’m sad I didn’t buy one for everyone I know.

Everything was so cheap, right? But that’s because I didn’t buy a $90 sterling silver deer necklace like Beth did or a $110 hat like Emily did. But the hats were pretty cute, right?


Beth Looking Very 1920s

We were walking around with these giant margaritas, and about halfway through them, Emily and I agreed that they must not be very strong, but by the time we finished them, we were able to talk each other into buying anything. I even bought something for Tracey that was more expensive than anything I bought for myself and everyone agreed didn’t even make sense. And then, of course, there was the mad dash to the restroom area, followed by the mad hunt to find a porta-potty that still had toilet paper:

The craft fair was about 100 times better this year than last, because it was in McCarren Park rather than in McCarren Park Pool. In the pool, all of the booths were lined up perfectly, and the sun was beating down on the concrete, and we were generally miserable. In the park, the booths were sort of willy-nilly, and we got to walk on grass, and everyone was generally delighted.

The One That Got Away

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I was reading in You Don’t Know Us But . . . this morning that the NBC drama “Kings” was canceled, which probably means nothing to anyone but me but means enough to me to make up for everyone else.

Did I tell you that I was asked to be in that show? Before I had even heard of it, I was called on a Friday afternoon by a casting director and asked to play the part of the mayor’s wife at a shooting in Brooklyn on the following Monday. At the time, I had just started working for the then-president of my company and was so concerned about looking diligent and not skipping work that I decided to politely decline the offer. Because I am an idiot who thinks it’s not cool to actively try to become an actress.

When the ads for the show started appearing all over New York City this spring,

I cringed every time I saw one. I blamed Kamran for everything, really, since when I told him that I’d turned the part down, he Google chatted to me, “Oh honey, you have all kinds of talent and all kinds of opportunities. And you’ve already done a FAMOUS TV show and a major motion picture, so you’ve already cemented your bragging rights, too. I wouldn’t sweat this one little fish.” So instead of calling the casting director right back like I felt I should to say, “Nevermind! I’ve cleared my schedule, and I’m ready for my close-up!”, I just went about my business of conference calls and spreadsheets. (And by that, I of course mean updating my blog and sniffing the Sharpies.)

I never actually watched the show, because naturally I wanted it to fail miserably. The worst possible situation would’ve been for me to not have appeared in it and for it to have become a huge hit. And since I never watched it, I have no idea what the mayor’s wife’s role actually was, but to this day, I swear in my mind that it was a major part with a huge amount of lines and extravagant costumes.

But now the show’s canceled. Just like the show I was actually in. Coincidence?

Warm-Weather Weekend

Filed under all of my friends are prettier than i am, living in new york is neat, par-tay
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Last weekend felt like the greatest of the winter to spring transitionings ever. I’m not one for sunburns and sweat, but without the burden of twenty pounds of winter coat, walking outdoors suddenly seemed like a joy. After three months of holing up with Kamran in his apartment and dreading every social invitation, I realized that I don’t actually hate my friends. Incredible!

On Saturday night, I first met up with Jessica-the-German-intern and Erika-who-moved-from-Boston-specifically-to-work-for-my-company-a-month-before-they-laid-her-off for dinner at Cucina di Pesce, which we chose because it supposedly had outdoor seating and giant plates of delicious food for tiny prices. But no! My meal was four pieces of toasted raviolo for $2 each. And you know I’m a growing girl. But luckily, the fresh air made up for it, as did the intense debate about whether or not the craigslist killer is hot.

After that, I took the ladies to my favourite freaky sour frozen yogurt place (which is, just so you know, NOT PINKBERRY), where we loaded up on toppings so intense I’ll only be able to tell you about them when I review it in donuts4dinner.com. Look how yogurt-filled and glowing Jessica and I are:

Then we met up with our friend Sonya for her boyfriend, Adam’s, birthday party at ACE Bar, where she was busy wearing a romper, showing off her side tattoos, and basically making out with innocent drunk girls:

Despite the fact that ACE has skeeball, darts, pool, animal-shooting games, and frat boys, Jessica and I were sort of sticking to the vinyl seats and having about this much fun:

So we gathered our friend Beth, ditched the Asians, and went to an outdoor bar down the street for an all white girl party with frozen margaritas and lots of talk about how we should all move to Paris, the white girl dream capital of the world.

I’d planned to meet up with Sonya to continue the Adam-related festivities at Beauty Bar, but then Beth offered me a ride home in her Alfa Romeo, which is a convertible, and convertible trumps claustrophobic bar. So we drove through the streets, wind in our very short hair, lights blurring, people yelling at us from their balconies, “Nice car!”, us waving back:

And that was only the beginning.

I Didn’t See Sarah Jessica Parker and Hugh Grant Filming Their New Movie

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I forgot to tell you that a couple of weeks ago, I was picking Dr. Boyfriend up from law school, and after a stop at the Whole Foods in Columbus Circle for dinner at the hot bar, we exited the Time Warner Center to find a movie being filmed.

We obviously think celebrity is lame, but we couldn’t help trying to get a look at the actors to see what the fuss was all about. The whole sidewalk was roped off, stage lights were set up all around, and limos were pulled up to every curb. It turned out that Sarah Jessica Parker and Hugh Grant were filming some new movie called Did You Hear About the Morgans?. Greeeeeat title, huh?

Of course, Sarah Jessica and Hugh weren’t actually anywhere in sight. It was merely their stand-ins rehearsing the scene while they likely sat in their limos–Sarah Jessica calling home to Ohio, Hugh wondering how he was going to get past kissing Sarah Jessica’s horsey face without losing his lunch. But the crowd, of course, was still totally enthralled.

I doubt I’ll add their stand-ins to my list of famous people I’ve seen while living in NYC, but if Kamran keeps running into Keanu Reeves and Eliot Spitzer, I might get desperate for something to talk about.

I wanted to quote The Ting Tings here, but “Great DJ” doesn’t actually have any quotable lyrics whatsoever.

Filed under living in new york is neat, music is my boyfriend
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I went to Le Royale Saturday night with some trepidation to celebrate my friend Sonya’s birthday. See, we like to go to Le Royale on Friday nights for Robot Rock, where we can be sure to hear 80s new wave and current indie music. However, Sonya had to go and be born on April 11th instead of April 10th, so we had to go to what Le Royale was calling Grand Buffet Saturday. Not appealing, right? Unless you’re into Ponderosa and cheap Chinese food, I guess. (Which you are.)

But it turned out to be the best night ever! The DJ, I later learned, was named Vikas Sapra, and he’s now my favourite DJ ever. I’m the sort of person who has a reeeeeeeeeeally great time when the DJ’s playing a song I like and an inversely more horrible time when he’s playing something I don’t like/know. It’s definitely one of my more intolerable personality traits and something I feel bad for subjecting my poor friends to, but there it is all the same, and not even two fistfuls of vodka can make it any better.

Luckily, this Sapra fellow is a master of mixes. One second he’s playing “Kids” by MGMT and I’m going crazy, the next he’s playing some shitty hip-hop song that makes me want to kill myself, but then he’s playing Bowie’s “Modern Love” and everything’s great again. And he only plays the best 30 seconds of each song, which sucks for the songs I love but is perfect for the times I’ve reached for my razorblade.

My friend Beth and I spent the night right in front of the DJ booth in order to have enough room to flail our arms wildly like white girls dancing do and to look approvingly at Vikas when he played Blur and Nirvana and not-so-approvingly when he played One Republic (who I originally called New Republic until I just had the foresight to Google their name to be sure). Now my weekend schedule will officially consist of karaoke on Fridays, Le Royale on Saturdays, and “Celebrity Apprentice” on Sundays.