Baby, It's Cold Outside

It is officially winter. Now, I was never a huge cold weather fan to begin with, but I was hoping that it was simply because I didn't have the appropriate wardrobe. I am now on the verge of closing out year numero uno en Nueva York, which means my second season of snow and the frigid cold, and while I'm getting used to it and 35 degrees doesn't seem so bad, I can't say I'm sold.

A few weeks ago, as I was walking home from school in low 30-something temp, I decided that I could hate the cold the rest of that night, but the next day I would begin to embrace it. Because as long as I'm here, I gotta at least try to love it. What's the use in being miserable in some place that you have to be? That is just silly.

A Night for the Werewolves

Monday, and I had officially ended my second semester at Parsons. I was freakin' exhausted, but I think my body had become so accustomed to staying up until the wee hours of the morning, 1 or 2 o'clock rolled around and it seemed to be no big deal. Since I was still awake, I decided I'd go ahead and stay up for the lunar eclipse on the winter solstice thing, because 400 years is a long time; and even though I still had to intern the next day, I figured what's another hour or two of lost sleep.

So I threw on my coat and a pair of boots to brave the cold and see what deal was. I walked out onto the steps of my apartment, surprised to actually see stars. I guess living in the city you assume you can't see any, so you forget to look up. I stood on my steps, hoping this would happen faster. I looked up and down my street, to check if there was anyone else out to witness this celestial phenomenon. But nope. Just me. Anyways, the moon was only half covered at this point so I retreated back to the apartment and decided I'd check again in a few. One of my room mates asked if there were a lot of people outside watching. I told her there weren't and she called me a nerd (which is mostly true). I went back outside to see if there was any progress. Back to the waiting game. A woman was walking towards me, and I expected her to continue to rush on by. But then she stopped, looked up, and took a few thoughtful steps backwards to get a better view. That makes 2.

Sometimes ya gotta step out of the hustle and bustle of the city and slow down, just a little bit. Otherwise, you'll drive yourself insane.

Strike a Match. Start a Fire.

November 1st. Past midterms. And I'm beat. I need a breath of fresh air. I need to re-charge.

The good news: Thanksgiving is in three weeks. That means home, and familiar faces.
The bad news: There's A LOT of work to do within those three weeks.

So I guess I have to muster enough energy and motivation from elsewhere, since home won't be it. And it better come. Quick. Because I don't think "I just can't" is a valid excuse at Parsons.

Big picture big picture big picture.

Alright. Let's go, y'all. Time waits for no one.

Dance Like Nobody's Watching

The weekends have become my running days, and Sundays in the Park seem to be especially lively.

There always seems to be something random going on, and this afternoon was no exception. So I let my breathing slow and walked past the congo drums, then continued toward this group of people to see what the fuss was about. As I got closer, the drumming started to fade and the whatever the DJ was spinning was getting louder. (He was playing Janet Jackson, if you were curious.)

They closed off a little part of the road and turned it into a mini roller rink. And the longer I watched, the happier it made me. It was the greatest group of randoms I've seen in a while. There was this little Asian lady with her sunglasses on, who after a couple of rounds came rollin' by with this big black guy, twice her size and dreads past his shoulders, helping her get her groove back. There was this huge guy with striped genie pants on and no shirt payin' no mind to anyone else. (It might be what Mr. T would look like if he stole MC Hammer's pants.) There were two younger gals hanging out in the center, sans roller skates, just dancing without a care. And another women who didn't have skates, just gliding her way around with the other roller skaters. Each was in their own little world, and everyone was just having a good time.

But one thing they did have in common, and what I found particularly amusing was how much swag every single one of them seemed to have. So smooth. And nobody gave a what-what.

Heeeeeeeey. Do your thhaannng.

Signs Say Yes

This semester I've been interning with Charlotte Brody, a small company out of NYC. I love it. The people are great, and since it's so small I've been learning a lot. What's different about this company is that it's based almost entirely on trunk shows and sells directly to clients. And mind you, this isn't your typical client. Think Upper Eastside, totally GG, if ya get what I'm saying.

Starting this internship was a little scary, because I always pictured myself working with a smaller business like this one. So I thought to myself, "Man, I better love this." Because if I didn't, was I gonna have to go soul searching.. AGAIN??? Well, good news. If you missed it, it's at the second sentence of this post: I love it.

I started a joke.

So I watched Banksy's Exit Through the Gift Shop, and yanno what I said about this Mr. Brainwash guy I mentioned, well, I re-tract my statement. I've been doing research for this project that I'm doing, and while I still think his stuff pretty to look at, there is not much else past that. I don't know that he was really a videographer, or that I'd consider him a real street artist, or artist. Period. Anyways. My opinion is still forming.

Not sure. But I think a joke is being played on someone.

Chasing Carrots

So I spent the better part of last weekend doing homework and felt great going into this week. Mondays and Tuesdays are pretty chill, but when Wednesday hits.. BAM! Any illusions of having a weekend disappear. Such is the life of a design student.

Like a hamster on a wheel, you think you're moving, but honey, you ain't goin' nowhere.

"Life is Beautiful"

I had less than two weeks to come up with a concept.

In my CAD class, we have the option of coming up with a mini-collection for a designer and design according to their aesthetic, or deciding on a theme and developing our own little line. I've chosen the latter.

Fashion Week, a visit to the MET, and a couple of September issues later, I still had nothin. It was the Sunday before the mood board was due, and I told myself I'd take a trip to MoMa in the hopes of being inspired. But on a whim, I decided to meet some friends at Highline Park instead.

On my way to meet them, I wanted to take a little detour to the Catherine Malandrino store since I was already in Meatpacking. (She is one of my faves.) En route, I stumbled upon the greatest little pop up gallery. "Icons" by Mr. Brainwash. I was in heaven.

Neo-pop the size of the walls, I was engulfed in each work on art, getting lost in each piece.

I found my concept.

I guess it's true what they say about inspiration. You can't look for it. Ya gotta let it find you. Because it will. And like most wonderful things in life, it'll happen when you least expect it.

Mr. Brainwash Icons NYC Exhibition, Opera Gallery, Chelsea

#*#(Ffnes*@#

I just wrote a huge chunk of this entry, then Safari quit unexpectedly. F. I'll try again tomorrow.

Back in Session

It's the first day back in school, but I've decided that my summer isn't quite over yet. My vacation home may be over, but who said the fun has to end now?

As I was saying, I had my first couple of classes today. And my fashion history class in particular left me quite inspired. It chronicles fashion through time, of course, but also fuses art, culture, and really everything. My teacher is this sweet German woman, an artist, with the whit and wisdom that makes you wish you were that clever. So if you ever randomly see posts with "-Catherina", that's her. And I'm thinking I'll have several to share with you throughout the semester. Here are some from today:

"I want you to get rid of your latest lover: Fear. Dont let him in again."

"I could never treat you as badly as you treat yourself. " (Fear personified)

"Fashion isn't dressing someone. Fashion is dressing someone with a hidden agenda."

"This is America. You open your big mouth. Whoever says it first gets it."

Goodbye, My Coney Island Baby

Coney Island. We got off the subway and there sat Nathan's, with an oversized billboard counting down to this year's 4th of July hot dog eating contest, and photos of past winners, including Takeru Kobayashi, the Japanese competitive eater who held the hot dog eating record for 6 years! (53.75 in 12 minutes! Bet his parents are so proud!) We wandered to the last of the amusement parks, Astroland, and headed straight for the Wonder Wheel, where I was able to finally check "Ride a ferris wheel" off my Life's To-Do list. I debated getting a funnel cake to munch on while we walked the pier, but decided against it, and we headed to the sand to catch some rays.

I'm gonna be honest. Coney Island is a bit lackluster, but it isn't the rides, and def not the beach that attracts people here every summer. It's the history. Granted, I am the biggest nerd at heart, but all I could do was imagine Coney Island at its prime, with all the glitz and glamour of the early 20th century, when it was THE place to be. Lights flashing, amusement parks lining the shore; ferris wheels turning, rollercoasters and other rides doing the unthinkable. I could see the women in their dainty little bathing suits with bottoms so high that they might as well have been a one piece. And all I wanted was a barber shop quartet to walk by in their pinstripes and straw hats and sing "Goodbye, My Coney Island Baby."

But that's probably just me romanticizing the era.

"A hundred times have I thought New York is a catastrophe, and fifty times: It is a beautiful catastrophe." Le Corbusier

It's when I leave school and walk through all of the vendors in Union Square; when I head home and pass by those bright lights of 42nd. It's when I leave my internship and see Alexander McQueen's store across the way, then pass by Chelsea Market. It's when I get lost in Central Park on an early evening run, then, feeling completely out of place in my spanks and t-shirt, walk home down 5th Ave.

I have to pinch myself, because most of the time I forget that I actually live here.

Time Square is my front yard, and Central Park is my playground. And despite the occasional pungent smells, the creepy homeless men, and the almost unbearable heat of the subway stations, I am completely enamored with this city.

And it's not that I don't see myself living somewhere else. It's that right now, there's no place I'd rather be.

The Road Less Travelled

I've started running in Central Park, and I'm not sure that I will ever take the same path back to where I started. Not by choice.

Sometimes life just gets it right.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
-Our Deepest Fear by Marianne Williamson

All too often we play the "what if.." game. What if I had never studied abroad that summer? What if I were in grad school? What if I were teaching in Spain? What if I never started selling my paintings? The "what if.." game is a stupid game. You can't change what's already happened. And if you could go back and do it all over again, would you want to do things differently?

I'm gonna go with a "no" on this one. It's difficult to regret the past when I am so completely satisfied with where I am now. Is this what I planned for myself? Absolutely not. But that's okay, because it's better than anything I could have ever hoped for. And I'm 100% aware of how cheesy I sound right now, but I'm alright with that.

Okay, so I know that I said the "what if.." game is a stupid game. I take it back. What if all the choices you made were all the right ones? What if life unravels just as it's supposed to? What if you get everything you ever wanted?

That version of the "what if.." game I can do.

One more: What if you really are just that awesome? Bet you are.

Sweet Summertime

Seaside Heights

It's June! And my summer is off to an absolutely BEAUTIFUL beginning. It has been so long since the last update, I don't even know where to begin!

I can officially check "Jersey Shore" off my list. It was Memorial Day, and we started at Island State Park. I was just ecstatic to see my old friend, the Atlantic Ocean, again. It's been way too long. No, it wasn't Florida. But a beach is a beach. And it really wasn't tragic. It was rather nice, actually. Crowded. Typical for Memorial Day, I suppose. But yanno what was weird? All of the beach umbrellas. I didn't know that so many people actually used them. Sure, an aunt would occasionally lug one to the beach every now and then, but I thought it was a Filipino thing, because she didn't wanna get dark. But there they were, lining the shore. Maybe I just hadn't noticed them at the beaches at home? I don't think so, but I'll be sure to check this out when I go home in July. I know it's a funny thing to dedicate an entire paragraph to, but it was the strangest sight to me for some reason.

So we peaced out then proceeded to the boardwalk at Seaside Heights. The beach there was overcrowded. Glad we went to Island State first, because I think I would've been miserable otherwise. The boardwalk is awesome for people watching. You just never know what you'll find. It's great.

So that was my Memorial Day in a nutshell. And the next day was, alas, MOVING DAY!

And moving day became a moving fiasco. Things got all mixed up with how was going to move, and even if we were going to move in that day was uncertain. It got a little tricky, but by the end of the day, I was out of Jersey and finally in the city.

I spent the next couple of days trying to get the place together for Lexy's visit, but failed miserably. With the painters, and the whole move in day mix up, it was just not happening. But on the bright side, it day make for an interesting weekend with Lex and Anna who were in town for Belmont .

Toothpicks in burritos, driving literally in circles only to end up at Two Boots for the traditional end of the night pizza, strange brunch experiences, lassoing cowboys named after presidents, Sweetiepie for dinner (great atmosphere, mediocre food btw), wandering to Union Square.. all key descriptions for Belmont weekend, but could all be summed up in a single word, as previously stated: interesting.

WHEW. That's enough for now. More adventures to come, and more frequent posts now that school no longer has me by the ovaries. Summer guide to NYC coming sooooon. Look forward to it.

Put a fork in it. That's a wrap, folks.

The last two weeks of school has mostly consisted of sleepless nights, switching my gaze from the fabric on the table and the sewing machine that kept tearing my thread, willing the two to work together to create the beautiful garment I thought of in my head. Those nights blurred into the following day, and kept me wondering how in the world 7 projects were going to be completed within the those 3 days of classes. Because even though I didn't sleep, and hardly stopped to eat (you learn to multi-task very quickly) and my social life was thrown out the window months ago, there still didn't seem to be enough hours in the day. And the school became one big brick building of inconvenience, with its odd hours and lack of open rooms during the day. Really? Not open 24 hours during finals week? Throw me a freakin' bone.

But as of Monday, the semester has officially come to a close! And while each class concluded the week before, each with a lack of fulfillment that I was hoping for, by the end of the day on Monday, I was jumping for joy, and felt like I was graduating all over again. Yes. That's how good it felt to be done.

One semester down, two more to go.

But the world doesn't stop, and apparently neither do I. My internship started on Tuesday, with MAO PR, and as far as PR goes, they are legit as it gets. This is the same company I interned for during Fashion Week. I could go on and on about how rad I think they are, but I'll let you read about that yourself if it so interests you.

Okay. So what have I covered thus far? Schools out: check. Internship: check. Now on to the big move. I move into this dank apartment in Hell's Kitchen on June 1st! I'm living with three other girls from school, and it's not so far from Parsons. We really lucked out on this space, and I can't wait for you to visit

So now what? On to the job hunt. What kind of job am I looking for? Any one that pays.

What else? Well, I few more tricks up my sleeve, but you're just gonna have to wait and see ;)

Standing on the Shoulders of Giants

Dear Mom and Dad,

Thanks for being awesome.

Love,
Your baby girl

True Life: I'm an Astrology Junkie

Confession: Horoscopes are my guilty pleasure.

Standing in line at the grocery store, I rarely pass on the chance to flip to the back and read the month's predictions. Do I really, truly believe in them? Negative. But I think they're fun. And I'm a curious girl. And what I like even more than seeing the upcoming month's is looking over the one that has already passed, just to see if they have at all fallen in line with what's happened. They're usually a miss. Sometimes they're right on.

Tonight, after laboring in the sewing room, I get home and Google search "Project Runway" to catch up on the latest. (I like the background noise while I work. And FYI: I'm running out of shows to watch, so send recommendations my way.) So I'm eyeballing the page, trying to navigate my way to where I could watch full episodes. Then I spot it. Towards the right side of the page, there it is, practically beaming off the page, begging me to click it. "Astrology". Okay. Ya got me.

I find my sign, and, lacking interest in my daily or weekly horoscope, I select the the "Monthly" button. With April being nearly over, I thought I'd get a kick out of it.

Anyways, I about die over it. I thought I'd share at least the overview, because this one, well, it's pretty on point. And as a bonus, it can totally double as additional insight into my life lately, since I've neglected this little blog of mine and have mostly entered ambiguous and vague posts.
___________________________________________

SCORPIO
April 2010
MONTHLY OVERVIEW:
Enough with letting your miles-long to-do list overwhelm you. (They are indeed extensive and have become legendary. They are out of control. It's really quite embarrassing.) It’s time to streamline your life and get back onto a healthy, efficient track. The Sun is in Aries until April 20, igniting your sixth house of fitness and well-being. Make time to take eat properly and exercise, no matter how busy you are. (I've been pretty sick this month. Maybe if I read my horoscope earlier this wouldn't have happened.)

We know it’s a challenge because Mars — the ruler of Aries and minor ruler of Scorpio — has been hyper-speeding through Leo, your 10th house of career. Work demands have dominated since mid-March, leaving many Scorpios frazzled and stretched paper-thin. (Hence the terse life updates; the ambiguous and vague posts, as aforementioned.) Mars is here until June, pitching fastballs at you. You can’t run on adrenaline and fumes, Scorpio. Unless you nourish yourself, you won’t have the strength to grab these plum opportunities.

On April 20, the Sun moves into Taurus, your relationship sector. The key to balance: finding reliable people to help carry the load. (Amazing friends: Check) That perfect partner may just be someone you already know. With Mercury retrograde (moving backward) in Taurus from April 18 through May 11, old friends and lovers come out of the woodwork, or you may hunt them down yourself. April ends with a Scorpio full moon on the 28th, a powerful moment that puts you at a crossroads. You’re pulled between your own path and the demands of work or personal relationships. If you haven’t already, this might be the day to declare, “Enough!”
___________________________________________

It goes into more detail, but there is such a thing as overkill. You can read the rest, or your own, at your leisure here.

I just couldn't resist.

Green Light

I know I'm beginning to sound slightly redundant with the "I can't believe it's already (insert month here)!" But, really. I can't believe it's nearly May! MAY, you know?!

It's crunch time. And all I got are finals in sight. Three more weeks and this semester is kaput. Dunzo. Finito. Sounds great, doesn't it? Then I begin to think about all of the work that needs to be done in those three weeks. Yikes. Three. Just three. And after that, only one year to go.

How about that?

The Search is On

10th Street between 5th and 6th had the most precious apartments. Nothin' wrong with dreamin'.

Found some room mates and we are apartment hunting! The search just started, but it's looking promising. Fun, but it def requires time and energy, two things we are all lacking. I think this is when time management is supposed to kick into high gear. Just to give you an idea of how well this going, I'd like you to know that at this very second, I should be working on some homework for color theory.

But, what can I say? I like to live life on the edge.

Seasons Change

The gorgeous weather has gotten me in full-on adventure mode. Winter was.. a good experience? Well, it was an experience, alright. But I'm glad that NYC has since gotten over that. It's spring time, and the sun is out and the flowers are in bloom. At home, these would've made for perfect pool and/or beach days. But wandering the streets and days in the park are not bad alternatives.

Light as a Feather.. Pfft

"Idk if I can go to the pillow fight. I'm a pacifist." -Ana, one of my classmates

Saturday morning-ish, and I headed to school to get some homework done. NOT in the mood. One, it was gorgeous out. Two, Kelly and her sis, Rachael, were in town for one day and one day only. Unfortunately, there was no way I could omit "go to school and do homework" from my weekend's to-do list. You see, the building was closing extra early that day and wouldn't be open at all on Sunday. (Easter weekend and all that jazz.) My vest for my sewing class was due on Monday at 9 o-freakin'-clock in the morning. So you see my conundrum.

International Pillow Fight Day would officially commence at 3 in Union Square. 2:45. I decided that it was go time, and Kelly and Rachael were on their way as well.

They finally arrived. We did some quick hellos, hugs, and salutations. We grabbed some pillows, looked at each other with wide eyes, shook our heads and shrugged our shoulders and said, "Well, I guess we just.. go." And so we went. We cautiously began to weave our way through the crowd to where all the action was happening.

A hit to the stomach here. A love tap behind the head there. Very playful. Light. Then, "SMACK!" It was onnn.

Wild bangees. You get to this point where you get smacked so many times, you can't figure out where you are and from which direction you were hit. You stop trying to use your pillow as a shield, man up, and just start swingin'.

Contrary to what you may think, pillows freakin' hurt, man. They aren't all feather-filled, light, happy things. They can be vicious. This one guy, we swear just kept whipping his pillow in this one spot, and one of us always managed to get in its way. "Excuse me. Do you have rocks in there?!" Seriously, what in the world was in that pillow?

So you'd think that with all of these pillow fights happening around the world, there'd have to be some sort of cause behind it right? Or maybe someone's trying to break a world record or something? Nope.

What: International Pillow Fight Day
Objective: Fun

That's a good enough excuse for me.

White Flag

I've resigned myself to having zero social life, whatsoever. See ya in the summer, world.

There's No Place Like Home

A week in since spring break, and school is in full swing. The break came just in time. There's nothing quite like spending time with my family and friends. I like them so much that they make it a little difficult to leave.

I sat on my flight back to the big city, blinking back tears, thinking about how lucky I am to have such amazing people in my life. Really. I must be doing something right to be blessed with family and friends like them.

I thought about that, and I thought about the life I was returning to. And even though I hate leaving everyone, well, my dear friend Joyce put it best:

"..Remember everyone will still be your friends even when you're over there. I know it's hard not seeing them whenever you want, but at least it keeps you looking forward to visiting home. Also you're living your dream for a year, then you can come back to us."

She was right.

"Back to reality," I thought at first. Looking out the window, I could see the city peaking through the clouds, and I realized that reality isn't so bad. I was going back to exactly where I want to be, doing exactly what I want to do.

And when your reality and dreams collide, it is a beautiful thing.

Creative Genius

I went to MoMA as an assignment, and finally caught a glimpse of the Tim Burton exhibit. It was like Dr. Seuss gone mad. He is nuts. Out of this world-- out of control-- nuts. But in a very awesome, very cool way; in a way that makes you wanna jump into his ear and peek around, and poke through his brain.

I've already made up my mind that I am setting aside a few solid hours to peruse through the entire exhibit before it ends. Staring into the depths of a mastermind, how could I possibly pass that up?

Stating the Obvious

11th floor view from my drawing class

I can't believe that it's already March. Where is the time going? I guess the phrase "New York minute" is no joke. Well, school has officially taken over my life. And it's not that I've never had a busy schedule; I've had to juggle several things before. What's different is that this sole thing is monopolizing my time. And I don't really seem to mind it.

Updates, updates, updates. Hm.. School has officially taken over my life. Oh, wait. I already mentioned that? Well, that was easy enough.

Reality Check

I look at the walls carved out of the Earth each time the train arrives at the station, lights flashing by as we slowly come to halt. And all I can ever think about is that ride "Earthquake" at Universal Studios. And I envision the ground shifting, a pipe bursting overhead, and a fire starting. Then I realize that it's real life. Is that weird?

The Fashion Student's Manna

No. This isn't my room. Though there are moments when it looks this tragic. But that's neither here nor there. Here's the story:

I went to school today to get some homework done, and I hop on the elevator and there is this girl with boxes and boxes of stuff. In broken English, she tells me in more or less words, that if I wanted any of it that it's on the 7th floor. "Wait, what?" I respond. And the doors open to the 7th floor, and I see students delving into boxes grabbing whatever they could put their paws on. "Oh." And I hop off, becoming completely distracted from what I came to do.

So I scavenged. I have all the zippers I could possibly need for the rest of my life. That, amongst other things; including hooks and eyes in case you ever need some. I stuffed my locker with all of the things I couldn't carry. And believe it or not, my stash was modest compared to the others. At one point, I was literally in that big box, second from the left in the photo, looking for buttons, because hey, I might need them one day. If you look to the right of the photo there are these tall, black cases. One girl filled one of those up and took it home. It was a free for all. It was great.

Where did all of this stuff come from? Phi, a women's designer luxury fashion apparel company, went out of business and sent their remaining supplies to Parsons, all for the taking. And what do you know. Free anything is perfect for the broke college student. It was like when God sent manna from the heavens when the Isrealites needed food in the wilderness.

I like to look at it as being rewarded for going to school on a Friday to do homework.

Fashion Weak

Happy. I haven't felt this happy in a very long time. Last year was a little rough, and I certainly had my moments of elation, but this kind of happy is the type where you find yourself completely satisfied with your life, and yourself. And excited about where you might be heading.

Lately it has taken everything in me to keep myself from jumping out of my skin. Starting with that out of control snowfall (so beautiful!), all the way through Fashion Week, I couldn't ask for more. Life is so incredibly good right now that it actually makes me a little nervous; nervous because the last time everything was so perfectly in place, it all slowing started spirally downward and before I knew it my world was crumbling at my feet. But, a very wise friend told me, "It's just a new, fresh, awesome life. Nothing to be scared of. Take it in and pretend your world is perfect."

So back to Fashion Week. Five shows down and now it's dunzo. And I'm not going to sit here and pretend that I had this glamorous experience, or had this really important job. But I like that I was a part of something so big, even if it was in the smallest way possible. (It's kind of like in cheerleading. You know that being on the sidelines doesn't really matter; it doesn't make you any cooler. But you become a part of something bigger than yourself. And THAT'S pretty cool.)

ANYWAYS, the first show I did was at Bryant Park. It was Mik Sire by Eric Kim. (The one I blogged about in the post before.) But really. How fortunate is it that I got to do Bryant Park the last season before they move it to the Lincoln Center? Let's talk about that. Oh, then there's Alexander Berardi, 23, and former Parsons student. Now let's talk about the Betsey Johnson's show. I loved how involved she was, hanging out pre-show, watching the models walk up and down the hay-covered runway. Dude, she was friends with THE Andy Warhol, Pop Art icon (no pun intended). THAT is out of control. And the next show was so fun. The Blonds. Great crowd, and GREAT clothes. And my personal fave of the week. And the last one, Adrienne Landao, was different. It was a presentation and not a runway show, with five separate vignettes. It was very classy. People walking around, wine in hand, admiring the furs, and the models striking a pose for anyone who wanted to take a picture, and sneaking a cookie from the display when no one was watching.

So maybe Fashion Week interfered with my sleep, just a little. But whatev. Sleep is always an option. Fashion Week, however, is only twice a year.

I hope this doesn't come off as if I'm bragging. I'm just really enthusiastic about life and about living. And I would like you to be a part of it.

And just to be clear, using the homophone for "week" in the title was intentional.

Heart of the City: Bryant Park

We walked through the back and entered the main showroom. And it was exactly how looked on TV. The black walls, the white chairs, and the long, white runway. It's Mercedes Benz Fashion Week, and the last one at Bryant Park. And I was there, standing under the big tent.

We helped set up, assembling gift bags and piling papers on the seats, doing anything they needed to get done. A little salt and pepper haired Hawaiian woman came out, telling the male models where to stop, how fast to walk, not to cut the corner, etc. She was funny. And she kept yelling at one of the guys who wouldn't get off his phone. Then as the time for the show to start grew closer, we headed to the front to check people in. A bit hectic. "Do you have an affiliation?", "Spell that again for me, please," "I'm sorry. You're not on the list," all phrases that became all too redundant tonight. Alas, the hoard of people disappeared into the showroom. And, running 30 minutes behind, it was almost time to start. The lights went dim, then flashed on, and the music started playing.

I found myself nodding my head as the models walked by. One of the models passed, and seemed awkwardly hunched over. Turtle-like, I would say. I scanned the seats, and in a room where most people were dressed in black, there was an older woman with a hot pink turban and a hot pink fur coat. This made me smile. I looked over to where the media was set up; steps filled with photographers, snapping their photo as the model hit the end of the runway, then, as if rehearsed, bringing down their camera simultaneously to check out their latest shot. It was beautiful in a way. Synchronized swimming-esque.

They did the finale walk, and Eric Kim, the man behind Mik Cire, did a final walk with his baby son. He exited and the lights shut off. The show was over.

What a great night.

Jenna and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

"I went to sleep with gum in my mouth and now there's gum in my hair and when I got out of bed this morning I tripped on the skateboard and by mistake I dropped my sweater in the sink while the water was running and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day."
— Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

Some days just start off not so good and when that happens, sometimes you ought to just go back to bed and wait for the next day to arrive.

Be advised, this blog is going to include a lot of complaining and whining. Bitch session 100%. So I apologize in advance. But ya can't say that I didn't warn you.

First, let me make a list of grievances that slightly annoy me on a day to day basis. But I grit my teeth, breathe, and think "big picture", because things could always be worse. And at the end of the day I am, of course, just grateful to be here. And this has nothing to do with the family I am staying with. They are lovely. But this is not what I signed up for.
- The lock is perpetually jammed. It literally takes me 5-10 minutes to unlock it. Not exaggerating. The other night, the neighbor was on his terrace, and I had been there so long that he offered to help. He couldn't unlock it. But his huge friend luckily pulled up in his car soon enough and was able to get it unlocked.
- The fridge is broken. Still.
- I have no shelves to put all of my supplies-- books, notebooks, paint, 49302 types of paper, sewing materials. It is truly testing my organizational skills.
- I have no desk or place to work. I can't work at the dining table. Sometimes their friends/family stay over. And my cousin-ish in law on my dad's side still sort of lives here. Point is, there is always someone sleeping in the living room. And I end up working on the floor, which can't be good for my back. Or I do my hw in bed, which isn't good psychologically. The bed is made for sleeping.
- Since he still sort of lives here, his things are still in the room I'm sleeping in. Which is another reason why my things are all over the place and don't have a home of their own.
- TFC is always on.
- Finding a way to church is always a task. I don't have my car. And I'm in Jersey. That's a problem. And I feel like a nuisance.
- The commute isn't bad. And neither is the walk. But when it's late and the shortest distance from the station to the house includes an alley, I'm going to opt for a cab. So I made a rule for myself, that I wouldn't walk through that alley after 9ish, 9:30. For safety's sake. Good rule. Except that I get home that late from school, or this, that, and the other thing virtually everyday. It adds up. I'm not made out of money.

So there's that. And here is an abbreviated version of this terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day:
- Dad called and we argued about my living situation. The night prior I listed the grievances for my mother.
- Went to pick up a package from the post office hoping it'd make me feel better. (It was from Lex and Cass!) BUT they wouldn't let me have it because I didn't have anything with the new address on it. Problem: I'm not going to. So they said they'd deliver it, but there's not going to be a day anytime soon that I'll be home to sign for it. So what the hell am I supposed to do?! AND I'm supposed to be getting some books in the mail as well.
- I was about to leave to go fabric swatching, and wanted to warm up some food before I left. There was food in the microwave, and a vat of fish and its contents spilled all over my jacket and pants. One, it looked like I threw up all over myself. Two, the smell was rancid.
- I had to buy a SmartCard, which you use to take the train, and the machine stole $5. So I had to give it $5 more.
- Mood was f'n closed.

Get. Outta. Here.

So what did I do? Shop, of course. Retail therapy at its best. Besides, I need more black clothes if I'm gonna be working Fashion Week ;)

Jenna from the Block

Alright. So let's talk about some life choices I've been making lately. I need to make better ones.

Friday afternoon, I was checking out a couple of apartments way uptown, and since I was up by 110/116th, I figured I'd stop by Paul's since I hadn't seen him in a while. So I hopstopped it, of course; however, what I failed to do was actually read the directions. Ya see, I knew I had to take the 6 uptown. And I vaguely remember Paul mentioning that it wasn't very far from his place. Mind you, I've never taken this particular train. I've always taken the 2 or the 3 and gotten off of 135th. Well, I glance at my hopstop directions, and double check the stop, because at this point I do realize that the 6 is not the 2 or the 3; thus, it will be a little unfamiliar. 138th. Got it. Check. Paul lives on 139th, so that shouldn't be a problem, right? Wrong-o, buddy. This stop is on 138th and 3rd ave.. in the Bronx. Yeah. So I get off the train and go outside, hoping that somehow I will magically know where to go. Realizing that that wasn't the case, I have an Aha! moment, and remember that I e-mailed myself the directions and that I could look them up on my phone. Yeah, that would have worked out better if it weren't FREEZING outside. I want to say that it was maybe 10 degrees out. So I was trying to use my phone, but the touch screen was just not havin it. It uses heat sensors, of course, and heat was certainly not radiating from my fingers, which were starting to go numb. I couldn't even use my key pad because I couldn't tell how hard I needed to press the buttons. I begin to walk back towards the station (I did some wandering), and decide to head into the Shell gas station. It was lit, public, and warm. And I could really use some hot chocolate at this point. I finally began to warm back up, and I needed to come up with a game plan. I decided to googlemap myself and try to figure it out that way. That, or mapquest, or hopstop. Anything. Luckily. Paul called. He was home from work, and I should've been there by now. "Jenna. You took the 6?! That stop is in the Bronx. You have to cross a bridge." Great. Knowing that anymore wandering on my own, via bus or by foot, would just be a terrible idea, he starts trekking my way because let's face it, I'm no good when it comes to directions. (As Erica's dad would say, "It's not up to par with my other accomplishments.) I asked the pleasant cashier at the register to point me in the right direction of 138th and Grand Concourse, and made sure that this would lead me over a bridge and into Harlem (at this point, you could never be too sure). Now that I had an idea of where the hell I needed to go, I figured I could try to meet Paul halfway. It's a bridge. How could I miss it? (Oh! On a plus side, the cashier only made me pay $1 instead of $1.25 for my hot chocolate. Probably because he felt sorry for me.) In case you're thinking that I somehow managed to screw that up, I assure you that I didn't. I met Paul, and gave him the rest of my hot chocolate. Poor thing.

And so concluded my night's adventure in the Bronx.

And so it begins..

I didn't sleep very well last night. Surprise, surprise. I don't know if it was me being anxious, nervous, excited, or all of the aforementioned. And to be quite honest, my circadian rhythm has been pretty off since before graduation, so that didn't help matters either.

I get ready and step outside and a huge gust of wind about knocks me over and I think to myself, "Great. I'm glad I took the time to do my hair today." I dodge a recycling bin and trash can that Mother Nature hurls towards me, get to Journal Square, and I'm on my merry way.

I'm sitting there, waiting for my stop, and I decide that I am probably the only person on this train listening to Lady Antebellum right now.

I get to my classroom and no one's there. It's only 8:40. Maybe it's still early? Maybe? The other rooms begin to fill up and I begin to get a little worried. Seriously? After all of the sticky notes and the writing out my schedule, and double and triple checking to make sure I have everything just right, did I really get my room number wrong, and am I really gonna miss my first class? Well, the good news is, it's the right room. The bad news is that only three people were registered for that class. Count 'em. THREE! As in, 1-2-3. I knew these classes are supposed to be small, but come on. ANNND the other two don't show up! So it's just me and the professor. Just hangin out. We have a lovely conversation. She goes over the syllabus, then decides it was pointless to go on because either (A) she would have to re-do the lesson when there are more students, or (B) they would cancel that section (which would be just terrible!) and she lets me out early,

So I have a lot of time to kill before my next class. I re-vamp my schedule in one of the computer labs (classes Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays btw. Holla!) then I go down stairs, have one of my yummy snacks and catch up with a couple of friends while I wait. It's finally time to head upstairs, and since classes were switching, the elevators are packed. SO, thinking that I was still in shape or something, I decide that I want to climb up those 11 flights. It didn't matter that I haven't had a real work out in a couple of weeks, or that I haven't done any hardcore cardio in a minute. It's just 11 flights, right? Not ten Gator Mountains. HA! Who am I kidding?! I think it's around the 8th floor that I give up. I didn't wanna get to class seeming like a just ran a marathon! Major reality check!

Second class of the day (sort of), and it's Fashion Drawing. This professor is absolutely delightful. A little scatter-brained. Talks to herself quite a bit. But her accent keeps me entertained, and she loves what she's doing. She is all about making sure we stay inspired. And the other students are freakin' awesome. Especially being in the program I'm in, everyone comes from such unique backgrounds, with crazy histories of their own. It's humbling being around so many people with such different life experiences. More than half of the school is made up of international students. How rad, right?

Third and last class of the day. This one is small. Goodbye auditorium classes! Only seven of us. Fashion Industry: Marketing. This is probably going to be my least favorite since it's not a studio class, and one of the tougher ones because of the professor's expectations. But she is all about us owning who we are and making sure we learn how to market ourselves, and I can't wait to learn about everything she has to share with us.

Okay. I need to run or something. Because in case you didn't infer from a couple of paragraphs prior, I'm adding something to my list of things to conquer: Those eleven flights of stairs!

BK Bound

As I may or may not have mentioned, it's been a long week. To make me feel better, I got in touch with one of my friends, Nick, to stunt. So we had this whole arrangement. We'd meet at Penn, where his friend, Rich, would pick us up, then we we'd head to a gym in Brooklyn to stunt. We meet. Rich is running a little late, which is not a problem. We only have all day. Then, he calls and says his car just got hit. So that put a little dent in our plans. (No pun intended.) Nick, who I met while working the Macy's Parade, is not so familiar with this gym in Brooklyn, but we decided to take the train and just cab it the rest of the way. We take the 3, then try to catch the 2, but it was taking much too long. So we head out, look for a taxi or a service car. No luck. Fortunately, I turn around and, how about that. It's the Brooklyn Museum. By this time, I was over stunting, and instead we end up checking out the museum. I felt bad, of course, Nick came from a bit aways away to throw me in the air, and probably didn't enjoy the museum as much as I did. (It was on my list of things to do, so it worked out for me just fine.) Rich eventually came to pick us up. His car is in not so good shape. His window wouldn't even go up. Anyways, we grab dinner in the city at this sweet, little Japanese place and just hang out. And the day turned out to be quite alright.

And the moral of the story is: Everything always turns out fine. And besides, it's NY, so how can you really go wrong?

Oh, and two more things:
(1) The exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum right now is "Who Shot Rock & Roll". It was closed by the time we got there, but if you're down to see it, I'll be taking another trip that way. It's "suggested contributions" too, so that's a bonus.
*Side note: The Brooklyn Botanic Garden should be pretty sweet by spring time.
(2) While waiting for Rich at Borders, I found this deck of cards that I had been completely enamored with since I first spotted it on my first trip to NYC way back when. It's not just any deck of cards, mind you. It's "52 Adventures in New York City". Tell me this isn't absolutely perfect for me. I'm excited.

Speed Bumps

Yesterday was not a good day. I'm not going to get into the details, but it was so frustrating. It was certainly a stomp my feet, pouty, huff and puff, I want nothing more than to throw a temper tantrum sort of day. But even in the midst of all of the confusion and chaos, on our drive from Harlem to Chinatown, I looked out the window and it was all the reminder I needed. I stole a glance at the Brooklyn Bridge and the Pier at Southstreet Seaport and took a deep breath; I was in New York City. And I thought to myself, "Man. I'm just happy to be here." I got back to the place I'll be staying in the meantime, and unfortunately, things didn't get much better. Nothing was going right. So I decided to just stop and go to sleep, because tomorrow's a new day.

"Just because today is a terrible day doesn't mean tomorrow might not be the best day of your entire life. You just have to wake up and get there."

Yup. That pretty much sums that up.

So while today may not have been the best day of my life, it was a glimpse of this new one I'm starting. Today was orientation, and I am absolutely stoked. Hello, New York. I hope we become best friends.

Strange Sightings

There's something to see everywhere you turn. Here's something out of the ordinary, even for the seasoned New Yorker: Paul and I were on our way back to Harlem and the trains were just running entirely too slow. The platforms and the cars were a little more crowded than usual. Sardines. And one man was so desperate and so determined to get on this particular train that he hopped in between two cars (where they connect) and decided to just stand in the doorway and hold on. What a nut.

Let's Hear It for New York

First full day in the big city, and I am lovin' it. But let's re-cap day 1's adventure, shall we?

01/13
First off, poor Peiwu. He had no idea he had signed up for lugging around a 50 lb suitcase all across NYC. It was certainly an adventure, from JFK, to Paul's work in the Financial District, up to Harlem, and back down to East Village to look at an apartment. Most of my first day was dedicated to that. And as for that apartment.. great price, great location, but iffy conditions. I suppose you get what you pay for though. Decided that the search would resume the next day.

As for today, my first full day, the search continued. Had a few leads, and stumbled across a nice little place steps from Union Square. So close to school, and room for you to visit =) Not ideal, but it'll do for now.

Still just settling in, and just waiting for it to hit me. Yanno, that I'm actually in New York City. I'm sure this northern winter is gonna smack me in the face soon enough! So far it hasn't been so bad. Mother Nature's been on my side lately. Cold when I was in Florida to prepare me for the move, and warming up the north to make the transition seamless. Maybe? Or maybe I just bring the sunshine.