29 March 2008
27 March 2008
25 March 2008
I also perused the internet and found some amazing sources of inspiration:
Something's Hiding in Here's Shauna and Stephen have the most amazing, quirky apartment. It's like a festival of whimsy. A swing in the middle of the apartment? Genius! I also love the repainted thrift furniture. I dream about having a baroque-style mirror with high-gloss kelly green paint in my bathroom-- and once I move, I will definitely be applying their painting tips!
Tomorrow I intend to wake at a normal hour and actually leave my apartment for more than an hour. I'm thinking Chelsea Market, maybe a visit to get some Lower East Side pickles, maybe check out the vintage goodies at Dulcinee...read some of the Thomas Hardy biography, maybe check out John Derian? (whose gorgeous Provincetown home is profiled in Vogue Living. I want it!)
23 March 2008
18 March 2008
* My new thing is standing up for myself. But not in a defensive way. More in a "whoa, breathe, now let me talk" kind of way. Being a drama queen and working with plenty of drama queens/kings can be quite frustrating, but this new tactic is helping me deal.
*New coworker Nick. He's fierce.
*I just ate NewTree chocolate in "Tranquility"-- meaning it's infused with lavender. I'm feeling the peaceful properties. Ommmmmm.....
*Going to see sing-a-long Grease on the big screen at the Ziegfeld Theatre.
*Lula!! The new Lula is out. I love British people, indie musicians, quality art, and fairy-tale frosted hair. Anything glittery...
*Flowers on the street. Beautiful.
* Reflections. Especially the one in this darling vintage housewares shop, The Upper Rust, in the East Village. I wandered the East Village tonight until my gold ballet slippered feet went numb.
*This staircase-- and engraving-- that I found on my walk. People stared as I took a picture, but I didn't care. I'm a quirky sprite. I sometimes think that's accepted more uptown than downtown! I love Yorkville.
* I took a cue from Ginny B and stopped at Birdbath Bakery for a chocolate chip cookie and farmer's lemonade, which really is like liquid sunshine. I was sad when I finished it!
* Enchanted on DVD. I'm about to watch it...I can't wait until both Enchanted and Dan in Real Life are available pre-viewed at Blockbuster so I can get one of those fantastic 2-for-$20 deals!
* The Chrysler building at night. I captured this photo last night, right before saying goodbye to Kate. She's moving to Boston! She's been such an incredible friend to have in New York. She'll be a friend for life. No doubts about that. I'll just miss having my glittery leopard-pump wearing, redheaded sister in crime around!
10 March 2008
09 March 2008
I've been finding solace in jezebel's blog. Also chocolate-raspberry ice cream. And today I bought lemon zest sorbet and the newest issue of Vanity Fair. And I started Hunting and Gathering by Anna Gavlada. But something is missing, and I don't know what that is. Maybe I need to take Chelsea's advice and fill my well. But what are small ways I can do that, without spending tons of money in this city that sucks the soul out of you and eats your bank account? Suggestions, please, the more creative the better.
08 March 2008
06 March 2008
I think that many of these thoughts have been brought about by the realization that change isn't just something in the far-off future. Rather, it's something that's actually happening. The idea of having to check things in New York off of some list, whether real or metaphorical, makes me unbelievably sad. The other day Kate and I walked the Brooklyn Bridge as part of our "things to do before leaving New York" project, and I found myself being so melancholy. My life here has been trying, yes, but certain parts of it can only be described as beautiful, vital, and epic. Thinking about leaving those parts behind is like thinking about losing a limb. It was almost enough to make me not appreciate the wonder of the bridge. I do feel like, for me, the bridge has been colored by these ruminations. In fact, maybe it's a fitting image. A bridge is both a barrier and a passageway, an end and a beginning... It's just the sense of endings that makes me teary.
"It had been the yearning of his heart to find something to anchor on, to cling to—for some place which he could call admirable. Should he find that place in this city if he could get there?" ~Thomas Hardy
"Whence comes solace? Not from seeing, what is doing, suffering, being; Not from noting Life’s conditions, not from heeding Time’s monitions; But in cleaving to the Dream, and in gazing at the Gleam whereby gray things golden seem." ~Thomas Hardy
02 March 2008
What a ridiculous saying. We are people. I am a person. I am not a robot or a walled, emotionless being. I'm going to take things said to me personally, because they feel personal when said in a tone of attack. Even if I know it's deflecting blame, even if I know that it's someone having a bad day, I will still take meanness personally because that's how I am. I'm sensitive. When did sensitivity become just as passe as corsets and male maturity? And just because you say that something isn't personal, that just means it isn't personal to you.I think that in the workplace we should take things personally. Maybe if we thought about our coworkers, business associates, and clients as people the work world would be a much more humane place. I treat everyone with respect because I think that that's how I would want to be treated. It will be interesting to see what the fallout from my harsh speech will be. I think I'm often thought of as a punching-bag.I don't want to develop a thicker skin. That's not how I am, and I can't bear the idea of having to close myself off to processing emotion. But people say I will be killed in the work world if I don't build up a rock wall around myself. How do you compartmentalize yourself that way? When I'm in the office nothing anyone says to me has any significance or bearing on my character? That's not something I'm capable of.I can't help but thinking of Kathleen Kelly in You've Got Mail when she wisely remonstrates Joe Fox: "What is that supposed to mean? I am so sick of that. All that means is that it wasn't personal to you. But it was personal to me. It's *personal* to a lot of people. And what's so wrong with being personal, anyway? Whatever else anything is it ought to begin by being personal." I guess all of this is just further proof that I'm from a different time and a different set of values, and reinforces the fact that I can relate to very few people...