Things I Will and Won't Miss About NYC: An Ongoing Project

So today is the day I leave NYC to go back to NC. I definitely have mixed feelings about everything, but I think I am making the right decision for now even if it ends up that I move back in a couple of years. So, I've made a list (lists are wonderful, and very calming, and something great to do when you're bored). Things I'll Miss About NYC - The few good friends I did make in the city - Opportunities at every corner - Creativity right beside those opportunities on each corner - Not worrying about going out and then driving because public transportation is always, at most, a 20 minute walk away - The thrill of living, and being, and meeting in the city - Parties every weekend. On rooftops. Sometimes even during the week. - Getting cat-called by nice looking men - Little Town NYC - My proximity to my cousin and to Boston (we had some really great times together and I'm going to miss seeing her almost every month) - Being largely autonomous - making my own decisions, which only affect me, whether they turn out good or bad. - Divas - The ridiculous amount of awesome shopping that can be done (although it's probably good that I will be far away from that) - Walking home and finding that the kids on the street have broken open a fire hydrant for their own water park fun - Being so close to the beach and not even having to drive there

Things I Will Not Miss About NYC - Having dirt kick up on the back of your legs (or formerly pristine white jeans) when it rains - Gross smells - Lack of A/C - Angry People - My small bedroom with not enough room between my head and the ceiling to turn on the fan (Given, I did have a loft bed) - Being so far away from family - Divas - 80 year old men leering at me on the way to my apartment - Divas looking at you like you are a ridiculously stupid person having no idea what you could have done to get that look (I'm sitting minding my own business, how could I possibly have offended you?) - The stress of keeping up (must go out, must succeed, must not sleep, must join groups, must join gym, must run for the subway, must not awkwardly make eye contact) - The stifling heat and humidity pushing down on you from hundreds of A/C units spitting out their lava onto the streets - Getting yelled at by random people on the subway (although that totally makes for some good stories)

Things I Learned From Hauling My Ass To NYC

Things I Learned From Hauling My Ass to NYC (or How To Have A Mental Breakdown at Work) I don't get incredibly lonely when I'm going to work everyday and going through routine. I get incredibly lonely when I'm with people and I realize that I have missed them terribly and I just have not let it come to my attention (yes, I do compartmentalize to that extent). I first started to come to this conclusion when my mum came up to visit. I realized just how gosh darn hard I had missed all my family and how much I actually did enjoy spending time with them. It was driven home when Anita, one of my best friends, came to visit right before I am scheduled to go home for a long weekend. I'm hanging out, enjoying life with her and it hits me. I have missed spending time with people who know me, care about me personally, and like me. I then went home, realized all the things I had been missing and did not want to come back to New York. I literally spent the last two days trying not to think about how much I wanted to stay in NC. I, of course, did go back because, well a) all of my clothes are up here and b) I don't really like being a failure. I lasted two days. I broke down in the middle of the day, in the office. Those of you who know me, know this is not like me. Those of you who know me also know I like to be left the hell alone (sorry sorry) when things like that occur. My boss and coworker did not know that and kept pushing, which led to me crying off and on all day (which is reallllyyy unusual), awkwardness to the extreme, and telling my boss how I disliked what I was currently doing. During the pity lunch that she took me to. When asked by coworker how lunch was, my only reply was "awkward." So I have set a goal for myself in hopes it will get me over this mental setback and in hopes that I don't start out each morning dreading the day. I am going to use my job to meet as many people as I can, personally and for business purposes, and see where that leads. My boss even gave me permission for this. She basically said I was too nice and I should not feel guilty for doing things like taking advantage of my current position to make new contacts. We shall see if that works or not. Living in NYC, you can get pretty isolated. I know, it seems ridiculous. But seriously, all those people walking around you have their own thing to do. No one looks at each other for long on the street or in the subway. It isn't normal to start chatting to your neighbor, sure it happens every now and then, but generally this is not the case. So you have to put yourself out there. Join a group. Go to a bar. Invite people to come out with you, because chances are people will not invite you to go out with them (people generally do not think about other people).

On that note, don't be duped by for horrid guys (or girls), who pretend like they like you and only want to get in your pants. I met a guy, seemed nice, at a bar with my friend Anita. Gave him my phone number and he started texting. All he could seem to talk about was my boobs. Occasionally he would veer away into what seemed like real conversation (even jackasses can't be jackasses all the time). I met him for a drink, and he really was pretty nice, but I could tell he was taking as many glances as he could if you know what I mean. I went home (ALONE DAD ALONE!) and he continued to text, but the weekend I was away on vacation: nothing. The day I'm supposed to get back, more texts. He said something to the effect of "I would really like to see you" (after he had talked about my boobs some more. And I said "No, you want to see my boobs, not me. Entirely different thing." All I got back was a ":-(" face and I haven't heard from him since. So moral of that story: Just because you are lonely, do not get together with people who do not treat you like they should. You deserve better, no matter what. Also he was a horrid tipper. That was my second clue at his wanker ways. Word to the wise for the boys: us girls really do pay attention to things like that. If you're skimpy tipping the nice waitress, what else are you going to skimp on?

Also, Camille left me to go back to the south. SHE EVEN BAKED ME COOKIES THE NIGHT BEFORE SHE LEFT. She is a wonderful person. Which probably did not help my desires to go back to the south. Although Camille's viewpoint is to get back up here as soon as she can. She's got a nice boytoy to keep her company when she does come back up here. Although he might be moving somewhere weird like Michigan. Don't do it Mikhail. Don't do it.

There will probably be more posts of this nature in the future. I'm sure they all won't be this depressing.

Things I Learned From My Internship, Part Eleven (or And So It Led to This)

Things I Learned From My Internship, Part Eleven (or And So It Led to This) Words of advice in the event you are offered a job:

You can, in fact, negotiate for a higher salary.  This is something I learned literally an hour after I accepted a job, mediocre salary and all. Don't get me wrong. It's a great salary to have coming out of college, but there is the possibility (which I will never know) that I could have had an amazing salary coming out of college. I get the job, text my friend from Martha about it. He asks me what my salary is. I tell him. He then proceeds to ask me if I had tried to haggle for a higher one. I was all like "uh. No. I was unaware this was a legitimate option."

His response was "you can always negotiate." And i was dumbfounded. And slightly angry with myself.

Make sure you ask questions during the interview about your benefits, how they will be doled out, and what they are exactly.  Otherwise you will be walking around in a cloud of confusion for the first three months, thinking to yourself, "What exactly have I gotten myself into, and what were the reasons I got myself into it other than my weekly paycheck."

Rejoice in that weekly paycheck.  A large portion of people who graduated with a photography degree (or any degree for that matter) in the last few years do not have that amount of stability and are crying on the inside while openly worrying about where they will find rent for the next month and eating one packet of ramen a day.

Figure out if your employer takes out taxes or if you have to do that for yourself.  There are pros and cons to both.  On one hand, you have exactly as much money as you think you do. On the other, you have to make sure to set aside about thirty percent of each paycheck, a painful and at times dangerous thing to have to do.  On one hand, you can barely write anything off.  On the other, lots of things could technically be written off when you are an independent contractor.  I would not; however, take my word for these things.  I would consult an accountant.  I still have not quite gotten to the part where I file my own taxes. In time, young padawans, I can give you advice on this as well.

Make sure you are going to like what you are about to plunge into.  It is not a great feeling when you set out to do something and then realize it is not exactly what you were hoping.  This cannot always be avoided.  In the case that you are duped and stuck with a job that is slightly off kilter, be sure to learn all that you can before you skip out of there. And, you know, make sure you skip out of there in a nice way so that those people still like you when it comes down to it.

In other news, More Adventures of Mumsy, Naughty Nicki, and I then I will fill you in on some things that Camille and I have been getting ourselves into.

Sunday was my mum's last full day in NYC. So we went to Hillsong. It was packed. Mum, Nicki and I were way back in the back by the door and we could not see anything because of all the people standing in front of our short selves. They did bring mom a chair, while we were back there and then they went in search of actual seats for her. WHICH THEY FOUND. Some nice lady gave up her seats so that my Mom could come up to the front and sit in a chair where she could see. I was lucky enough to get in on this as well. I did say that I would sit on Nicki in the aisle, but that didn't seem to be acceptable. So Mum being a gimp paid off. People are all kinds of nice to the injured.

Then we came home and made lasagna! It was delicious and yummy!

Monday morning, we packed mom all up and went on a bus adventure (I am now a pro at buses) to Kitchenette. The mecca of brunch food on the Upper West Side. I had delicious strawberry french toast and delicious strawberry sangria. They go surprisingly well together.

Then we went on back to the apartment and I had to sadly put my mum into a cab. Then there was post vacation depression. Don't laugh, you all totally know what I'm talking about.

That Wednesday, I went out to a release party with Camille. Camille and I have taken to going to random MeetUp group events and gallery openings that come into my works email box simply because we can.

We did not know who this girl was, just that there had been an email inviting us and we had our minds set on going. Who cares if this girls music was good or not (it was so not awesome). We got there, FREE hors d'oeuvre! This was great as I had come from work and had nooooooo dinner. We then decided we should at least by one drink if we were planning on staying a while and sip that thing for hours. FREE vodka drinks! Sure, they were watered down, but they were still delicious. We did not go crazy though, because we are responsible adults and did not want to have to go to work with hangovers in the morning.

So we are sipping out drinks on a nice couch by the stage when the girl releasing her CD comes out to sing and shake her thing. Everyone immediately stands up and crowds to the front so us short people are incapable of seeing. This is okay though, because I notice other short people standing on the couches so they can have a higher vantage point. We immediately follow suit. So does a tall guy trying to take photos with his point and shoot. I ask him if he would be so kind as to move his head to a lower level so us short people can see. Which he actually does, so I had to stop being snippy with him.

He starts talking to us and asking if we are enjoying ourselves (which two free vodka drinks in, of course we are) and it turns out he is in charge of the whole thing. This makes me laugh on the inside and try not to look scornful. I think I managed it because he tries to give us his card. He handed me one directly, hand to hand. But apparently Camille was not paying enough attention to him (there was a girl singing and dancing on a stage ten feet in front of us), and he starts moving his hand like he is going to slip the card INTO HER BRA. I shove her so that she notices this and has the opportunity to stop that from ever happening. Apparently I made a very horrified face at her, which she still remembers exactly a week later. She took the card from his hand and was very polite about it. She said "Uh Thanks," and did not mention his blatant disregard for personal space as I would have.

This incident is something I will remember for months, possibly years, to come. He was taking pictures the whole time too. Of us as well. I looked on the website later and I did not apparently make the cut, but half of Camille's face did. O the funniness. Camille and I at le party!

Things I Learned From My Internship, Part Ten (or I Feel Pretty, Oh So Pretty)+ Dance Like You Mean It

Things I Learned From My Internship, Part Ten (or I Feel Pretty, Oh So Pretty) + Dance Like You Mean It Make everyday fun in some way so you do not dread waking up.  For instance, take pictures of you work outfit everyday.

This may, at first, make you feel like a vain fool, but it brightens up your day when you get a nice comment and it encourages you to try, which is certainly important when your endgame is impressing people enough to give you a job.  It also is a nice record of every day of your internship. Something to look on in your dotage and say to your adopted grandchildren "see here, on this day I wore this outfit and got noticed by the editor of this magazine." Or something like that.

Obviously, not everyone is going to want to take pictures of their daily clothing choices, but you get the point.  Make everyday at least slightly different by setting a goal and recording it.  I can honestly say I did not wear exactly the same thing any of the days I worked at the lovely offices of Martha Stewart.  This may be unimpressive and extremely un-noteworthy to you, but I find some small sort of pleasure in it.  And should we not find pleasure in our internships, even while working our little tushes off to impress people?

And more Adventures of Mumsy, Naughty Nicki And I!

Saturday was a ridiculously fun day as we went on a cruise around Manhattan.  I should say this adventure began on Thursday when I called to book the tickets.  Joe, the voice on the other end of the phone, was very flirty.  He asked me what the occasion was and I told him just because we wanted to.  His response was "So life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."  I did not know what to think of the kid at this point so I was just like sureeeeee.  He then asked if we would be "enjoying any alcoholic beverages" on the cruise so we could buy the tickets beforehand for a lesser price.  I was all like "heck yes, we drink alcohol" and he proceeded to tell me "I think I like you," which was interesting.  After this was all done, he was outlining a few ship rules.  "As this is a lunch cruise, the dress is semi casual, so a button down and slacks."

To which I replied, "I don't think I'm going to be wearing a button down and slacks," and he became extremely flustered.

I thought this cruise was sure to be a touristy, corny thing to do, but something all people who live in the city should do at least once.  You know, with one alloted alcoholic beverage and a mediocre buffet.

It turned out to be awesome.  Probably because we had an interesting group of people on the boat with us.  And when I say Interesting I mean Crazy.

We get there and are shown to our table. It was on the second floor (so I hauled Nicki up some stairs) and it was not by a window, but we could see the dance floor and out the windows across from us. This turned out to be the prime sitting spot as we could look over the railing at the goings on of the DJ and the people who interacted with her.  Before we figured out the wonderfulness of our tables location; however, our waiter came to get our drink order and to ask if we were here for any particular reason, an ongoing theme.  We repeated that we were just here to have fun, no particular reason, but my mum was visiting from NC.  He WROTE THIS DOWN and then flounced off.

Then came the food.  It was actually pretty delicious. Mashed potatoes, and salad, and salmon, and mac & cheese.  A carb lovers delight.  Then we got TWO desserts. TWO.

We then went outside and enjoyed the beautiful weather and the Statue of Liberty. This is us in front of the Statue of Liberty even though you cannot tell....

Then the fun began.  People had imbibed their alcoholic beverages (and probably a few more before they even boarded the boat) and they were loose and excitable.  The DJ fed on this and so did the crew. The waiters and waitresses actually came out and sang and danced.  It was corny, true, but great.

Then the crazy crowd got involved.

 This woman was hilarious.  She interpret danced all around that dance floor, and on it, and off it, and on the waiter a bit too.  We later found out she actually teaches dance classes, which does explain a bit about the large amount of dancing.

After that the DJ threw out some line dances, which basically forces everyone to get on the dance floor.  I did indeed dance. Sadly, these photos are on my mother's phone and I cannot get them to you, my loyal readers.  I'm sure you can use your imagination.  I was literally the only white girl on that dance floor and it was awesome.

I would like to believe that I held my own.

Part Nine

Part One

Things I Learned From My Internship, Part Nine (Planning Ahead Makes People Happy) + Adventures!

Things I Learned From My Internship, Part Nine (Planning Ahead Makes People Happy) + Adventures! This lesson is less about interning and more about being a photographer. Nevertheless, it came to my attention how lackadaisical photographers really are at procuring releases at my internship and not through my four years of college (in which I may have gotten one model to sign a release. Maybe). This is not for lack of trying on my professors' account, it's just a matter of real world experience instead of theoretical lectures.

All photographers should be made to secure release as they shoot, not after they shoot, move on, and turn in their photographs for the magazine to use.  I'm talking to you, location photographers, and you lifestyle photographers.  I cannot begin to count how many times I had to go back and find location releases and appearance releases and even location AND appearance releases.  Get that business taken care of ahead of time.  It is so much more difficult for the assistant photo editor (or intern as the case may be) to track down the people and places you shot than it is for you to slap a piece of paper   in front of the owner while you have them there, trapped in front of your camera.  There's even an app for just this purpose. And we all know most photographers would not be caught dead without their trusty IPhone. Put that $700+ worth of technology to work for you and your future employers and everyone will be much happier in the long run.  I know the people in the photo department will appreciate it when you say "Why yes, I do have a release for that random person I shot in the middle of Toronto."

This lesson applies to all photographers who are a) invested in saving their own ass should the need occur and b) want to work for a publication and keep working for the publication because they make the photo editor's job so breezy and carefree.  I'm pretty sure that is the majority of photographers.

In other news: The continued Adventures of Mumsy, Naughty Nicki, and I.

The next day of our trip (well Mum's trip), Friday (and to think this is only the second day of adventures), we went in search of discounted theatre tickets for later that night.  But first we had a wonderful lunch sitting outside in the sun, munching on fish tacos and sipping margaritas at Blockheads. Mine had an upside down Coronitas in it. Clearly I am always up for an experience.

Once this had occurred, our search began.  We went to the TCKTS line, but as we had had an enjoyable lunch instead of standing in the line from hell for hours, the line looked like a barely contained mob.  We decided that this was something Naughty Nicki could not handle (not us of course, we can handle anything).

So on an off chance that there would be cheap tickets, we went directly to the theatre that was showing out first show of choice, How To Succeed In Business Without Really Trying.  It was an interesting journey through the throng of tourists who continually occupy Times Square, but we finally made it.  It is extremely possible we ran over a few toes on the way there.

Alas, there were not cheap tickets (i.e $60 balcony tickets), but there were RUSH tickets.  For those of you who are uneducated (I was, but not anymore) this means that they are partial view seats, but most importantly that they are only $30.

We decided to take this risk, and after a perilous journey to the grocery and home we came back for the show.  On the way in I overheard this statement, "OMYGODNICKJONASISINTHISBUILDINGWITHUS." I kid you not.

We were escorted into our seats, as apparently my mother is 'handicapped' and needed special help. I enjoyed it, everyone was VERY considerate of her. Even when she ran them over.

We actually had pretty awesome seats.  Only the very top of the stage was cut off, which only became a problem when a person got dangled from the ceiling, so not much of a problem at all.  Needless to say, It was a very enjoyable show.  

What came after it was just funny, and made me a little sad for the world in general.  Nick Jonas and another character, Bud Frump, came out to auction off J. Pierrepont Finch's bow-tie (Nick Jonas).  This of course caused those very same girls who had screeched earlier to become highly agitated.  Although one grown woman in the front was trying to get them to auction off Bud Frump.  She was very adamant, but was finally dissuaded from buying him and persuaded into actually bidding for the bow tie.  It got to the point that one man yelled out "ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS" and then tried to temper it by saying "for my daughter."  This girl was clearly a) thrilled and b) probably a spoilt brat.

My mother and I made our escape at that moment, wondering about the nature of people who have the ability to pay $1000 for a man's sweaty bow-tie.

At least it was a tax-deductible $1000.

Part Eight

Part One

Things I Learned From My Internship, Part Eight (or Holding On with All Ten Toes) + More Adventures

Things I Learned From My Internship, Part Eight (or Holding On with All Ten Toes) + More Adventures I'm sure you've had the friend who tells you the horror stories of his menopausal boss, or the boss that loads them down with work on a weekend, or the boss who constantly sits right behind them and criticizes everything they do. Or, you know, the boss who tries to seduce you while acting like a chauvinistic pig, or the unfulfilled pay promises, or the crappy job assignments meant to 'put you in your place.' You get the idea. I'm here to tell you that, though they may be slightly embellished and/or overly talked (complained) about,  it is highly likely that most of that story is true.  Consequently, if you find yourself in a happy work environment hold on to it with both hands and all ten toes.

Horror situations like that do; however, make you that much more appreciative when you do land an awesome workplace with awesome coworkers (they also lower your standards so you are in a much more appreciative mind frame to begin with). Martha was a place of mostly happy people, enjoying what they do and enjoying the people with which they were doing it (at least that's how it seemed to me).  Martha the homemaker is clearly also Martha the maker of happy workplaces (maybe even more so).  Let's face it, a picture of her giant chow, Genghis, will put a smile on your face any time you see it (and I saw one at least twice a week).  I'm convinced Genghis Kahn is her secret plan to take over the world.  I mean, he did win best in show at Westminster. He also is allowed to eat at tables, in fancy restaurants:

But anyway, the Moral of the Story is: Be thankful for an awesome work environment because not all companies are full of genuinely happy people who not only enjoy their jobs, but also the majority of their life (all because of Genghis Khan).

Take note of Martha holding puppy Genghis, clearly world domination is being planned:

In other news, I promised more Adventures of Mumsy, Naught Nicki, and I.

Later on in the afternoon, after the horrible waitress incident, I got to take my mother to the other Little Town NYC location by Union Square. With a LivingSocial coupon of course.  The Union Square location was just as wonderful, though the ambience was not quite as awesome as the Hell's Kitchen location (that one was two stories, with a net above the bar so drunk people couldn't throw things at innocent bartenders).

We rolled on in (or my mum did) and got a table by the wall (so my mum could lean on it., Okay I did too) AND THEN we had beers!  Let me just point out from what kind of selection we could choose.  And THERE WERE MORE THAN THAT. I had a White IPA which I encourage everyone to try.  It was fantastic. My mum had some sort of light wheat thing, which was also good, but she is clearly a pansy beer drinker.  My brother and I try to teach her and fail.

And then we had TWO DOZEN oysters. Which were pretty awesome.

Once we had finished our delicious oysters, our two beers each, and one (non couponed) bag of chips and bleu cheese dressing; we went on our way to a Trunk Magazine 'Special Exhibition' to meet and greet with Trunk Mags Photographers.

But backing up to us being on our merry way.  We our strolling (or rolling as the case may be) down the street, me pushing my mum a bit so her "calf doesn't get too tired" and so we can make it there before 2013. We may have gotten a little too ambitious, speed wise, and Naughty Nicki was not having it. We hit a bump and almost bit it. The both of us and Naughty Nicki.  Luckily, Mumsy and I are both quick on our feet (her slightly less so obviously) and we managed to not make a spectacle of ourselves on the sidewalks of Union Square.

We eventually made it to The Conran Shop (which makes you want to buy EVERYTHING) and down to the Exhibition where we met up with one of my photographer friends. Yes I do have friends in NYC.  Three of them. So there. The event was interesting (i.e. photographs and free alcohol), but there was only about ten photographs, which was slightly disappointing. To be fair, they were awesome photographs.

So we are mingling. Eric and I are trying to get to know people (we are both new to the city and need to know everyone). Eric points to a guy and is like 'I think that guy is one of the photographers,' but he wouldn't get his ass in gear and go talk to him. So I took matters into my own hands.

For those of you who are unaware, I came to NYC and became much more outspoken.  You have to be.  But I also grew up in a household that rid me of most of my shame (in a good way).

Anyway, I sidled up to him and said "You're one of the photographers right? My friend over there wants to meet you, but he's being a pansy, so I'm shaming him into doing it."  I know, I'm a horrible person.  Turns out the photographer was David Cicconi, the founder of the Magazine and the Creative Director.  Pretty Awesome.  And he remembered my name later, which is always a good sign.

That's something to add to the Intern Manual, Be Memorable. Perhaps that will be the next post?

Part Seven

Things I Learned From My Internship, Part Seven (or Sharing is Caring) + The Adventures of Mumsy, Naughty Nicki, and I

Things I Learned From My Internship, Part Seven (or Sharing is Caring) + The Adventures of Mumsy, Naughty Nicki, and I For this little tidbit I'm going to tell you a story, a story of a girl:

Once upon a time, on my last week working at Martha Stewart, I was speaking with a coworker, let's call her Lisa (you know, to protect her identity, and I asked her what she was doing before the glorious days of Martha.  She responded by telling me that she had worked at both Allure and InStyle, which is awesome.  Something about which I would have clearly liked to know more.  In fact, if you know me at all you know I would happily work at either of those establishments with a smile on my face for all my days.  'Lisa' was clearly a connection whose life I could have looked over with a fine tooth comb and bored with my questions. I also could have used her as a reference/in into a photo job at one of these magazines (not that I will not now, since I know she loves me).

The moral of this story is to ask your coworkers questions about themselves early on into your internship.  People like to talk about themselves and their accomplishments, whether that is the incredible genius of their granddaughter (my mother), the amazing family photos they took at the beach (anyone who owns a point-and-shoot or a camera phone) or how they just got back from battling crippling winds and subzero temperatures while climbing Mt. Everest (no one I know). Don't believe me? Go ask anyone you even marginally know what they do, or what they are most proud of accomplishing and see what happens.

Not only does asking about your coworkers lives build a stronger relationship with them, but it also allows you to figure out networking opportunities way before you need them (something I failed at, but will not fail at in the future).  This also has the added bonus of making your coworkers believe you care about them (I did, you may not, just pretend you do).  Plus, and I am not lying, you get to hear some funny stories.  Directly after 'Lisa' gave me the momentous fashion magazine revelation she told me a hilarious story about finding out one of her old roommates was a 'dancer' by coming upon the girl's clear, lucite dancing heels displayed in the girl's room after she had moved out. See, life stories are hilarious. 'Lisa' was all like: "It explained so much."

In other news,  I just put my mother in a taxi to the airport and she's leaving me on a jet plane.  I am slightly depressed by this.  Not only because, you know, my mother is leaving, but also because I get crazy post vacation depression.  And even though I did not actually go anywhere out of the Greater New York Metropolitan Area, I treated this weekend like a nice, crazy, relaxing vacay (in lieu of a nice, crazy, relaxing trip to the beach). 

I had a fun filled long weekend with my mother and Naughty Nicki the Kneewalker (an adventure in and of itself).

This is my mother: 

This is what she was riding around on:

Only hers had a little pack on the front and a lambs wool knee cover, cause she is classy.

I'm sorry to say the very first thing my mother and I did was go to brunch, wherein there was no BREAKFAST and it was only 11. Our waitress was horrid, we shared a meal, she didn't bring us an extra plate but charged us $3 for it, and she forgot about us for a good 20 minutes before she came to run our credit card. Which she promptly dropped, dropped, and kept walking, before another waiter had to flag her down and give it to her.

During that fiasco, she botched this crotchety old couples order. And they literally yelled at her and left.  I want you to imagine this whole scenario spoken by people who cannot hear their own voices unless they yell, and these people wanted to hear the sound of their own voices.  Anyway, crotchety couple was not pleased.  They wanted breakfast and there was none, until another waiter told them they could have a 'lunch omelette' but it was not on the menu (WHICH NO ONE TOLD US).  They ordered egg white omelettes, very clearly (as I can obviously repeat this whole scenario to you), and then the waitress came out with the wrong kind of omelette.  The old women was all, "Now. WAIT A MINUTE. This is not an egg white omelette," and the waitress just stood there and kept putting the plates on the table, not offering a solution.  That was the end for her. They stormed off in a huff while the crotchety old man said, "NO. I am NOT paying you. This is ridiculous. No breakfast and then when we finally get breakfast it's not even the right kind of omelette!"

I felt marginally bad for her, but then I remembered how she had dropped my mother's credit card on the floor and walked off so anyone passing by could just grab it.

The Adventure's of Mumsy, Naughty Nicki, and I will continue in the next posting. I promise.

Things I Learned From My Internship, Part Six (or God's Gift to New Yorkers)

Things I Learned From My Internship, Part Six (or God's Gift to New Yorkers) Multitasking is God's gift to New Yorkers. They get excited about it in their own little ways, whether that is complaining about everything they have to do at once or rejoicing in the fact that they are so busy and have so much work.

If you can also do these things, and do it with a smile on your face (as talked about previously) you are set.  "Wearing different hats" (as one interviewer I talked to put it) is like gold.  Employers, whether at a real paid job or a fake job (as I like to call internships) want you to be able to do everything and anything and do it with pizzazz. This talent makes you eminently more marketable.

And it likes up the frenzied, crazed faces of your bosses.

In Other News, my mum is coming in the morning! This is exciting because a) I do not have to go to my real job for the next five days and b) MUMSY.

We are going to have tons of fun (even if my mother is currently gimpy cause she's done something crazy to her knee). We are going to try to go to a musical! and an art gallery opening! and the same bar/restaurant my cousin and I went to last night (LivingSocial is my jam).  And we will be doing it all on a kneewalker (you can legitimately rent the things for a week)! Well she will be, I'll just be in the background being jealous.

And taking pictures.

No seriously, there is a kneewalker photo contest.  I am going to take tons of pictures of my mother knee walking about New York and win that money. There will be knee walking in bars, knee walking in galleries, knee walking in Trader Joe's, knee walking at the Eiffel Tower (oh wait, wrong city).  I'm sure you get the picture though. (PUN!!)

Last night, was also awesome. I met up with the lovely Camille, which is always dangerous, and we painted the town red. Which means instead of going to a real dinner we went to Sweet Revenge, a cupcake and wine bar. A CUPCAKE AND WINE BAR! I got the Dirty Cupcake (because why wouldn't I), which is all chocolate all the time and paired it with a Guinness. Pure deliciousness. Camille partook in the Crimson & Cream with a glass of sangria because she is more classy than I am. Both were amazing and I will probably go again. Simply because it is a CUPCAKE AND WINE BAR. Enough said.

We then pranced on up and over to a gallery opening called Quiet Beauty: A Portrait Series, which was pretty awesome. Braden Summers takes some great photographs and looks good in a teal bow tie while he shows them off (let's be honest, I will pretty much instantly love anyone who wears a teal bow tie).  If you make it to NYC before May 10 stop by the Wonderland Beauty Parlor and take a look at them.

To end, here is a quote that one coworker said today. She doesn't know where it came from and nor do I, but everyone should ponder on it and use it to their benefit:

"Do not look backwards, as you will trip going forwards."