Only in New York.
Only in New York is there such a thing as an "it" workout regimin. Only in New York does said workout regimin cost you $250 (for a total of 6 classes that meet in Central Park at 6:00 in the morning and basically amount to surpervised self-torture). And Only in New York do you show up for said workout regimin, to find yourself doing squat thrusts along side Eric and Ivanka Trump.
No, your eyes do not deceive you. What you read is true. I am, in fact, enrolled in a Tuesday/Thursday morning "boot camp" training class with two of the offspring of one of the most powerful billionaires in the world. I look to my right and there is Ivanka. She is a former model, the Vice President of an enormous conglomerate, a panelist on NBC's "the Apprentice", and schooling me hard on tricep dips. Can this really be my life??
It as at this moment that I remember why I love New York City. To live here is to reify your dreams. The CEO, the TV Star, and the Billionairess all drift down to earth. They and the goals they represent suddenly seem touchable and real. It makes you feel as if you can do anything, be anyone, reach any position - with just a little bit of concerted effort. After all, the Trumps are just people too. Because here they are, huffing and pressing and crunching with the rest of us. And if they could do it, I can do it. Can't I??
At least that is how it makes you feel. I'm telling you... Only in New York.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Who's the Boss?
This entry is dedicated to my best friend, or "BFF", if you prefer. To protect her anonymity, I will herein be referring to her as "the Boss".
The Boss is an amazing friend for a lot of reasons. She is outgoing, fun, trustworthy, loves to go to biker bars and is the Myrtle Beach Booty Shake champ of spring break '98. On top of all of that, she always seems to know the right things to say. This is an especially useful quality to me, because I need another person I can count on to backup my boyfriend. He typically knows all the wrong things to say.
Today is a perfect example - and here is how it all transpired: I was able to procure some information about a mutual friend, thanks to my admittedly abhorrent proficiency at myspace snooping. Unfortunately, I cannot pinpoint the specifics of this information for you. A) because the person in question could be reading and B) because I feel that I may be judged for my levels of shock and horror at the information in question.
The important thing to understand is that I was looking for a commiserate. Someone who would validate my reaction, and echo my despair. I immediately called my boyfriend.
BF: "Hello"
HoneY: "Person... A... Is... Doing... X. Y. Z."
BF: "ok"
HoneY: "HELLO!!!?! DID YOU JUST HEAR ME!?! PERSON A IS DOING XYZ!"
BF: "Is that good or bad? That's good right?"
HoneY: "You have got to be kidding me! Don't you think that is just INSANE!!??!"
BF: "not really"
HoneY: "I've gotta go."
This was just wholly unacceptable. How could he not hear from the distress in my voice that this was not a GOOD thing! Not a good thing at all!! And not only is it bad - it's shocking. Be a little shocked - would ya?!?
At this point I knew that only a best friend could make the world right, so I texted the Boss, and she delivered:
HoneY: "Person A is doing XYZ"
The Boss: "Holy Shit!"
The Boss is an amazing friend for a lot of reasons. She is outgoing, fun, trustworthy, loves to go to biker bars and is the Myrtle Beach Booty Shake champ of spring break '98. On top of all of that, she always seems to know the right things to say. This is an especially useful quality to me, because I need another person I can count on to backup my boyfriend. He typically knows all the wrong things to say.
Today is a perfect example - and here is how it all transpired: I was able to procure some information about a mutual friend, thanks to my admittedly abhorrent proficiency at myspace snooping. Unfortunately, I cannot pinpoint the specifics of this information for you. A) because the person in question could be reading and B) because I feel that I may be judged for my levels of shock and horror at the information in question.
The important thing to understand is that I was looking for a commiserate. Someone who would validate my reaction, and echo my despair. I immediately called my boyfriend.
BF: "Hello"
HoneY: "Person... A... Is... Doing... X. Y. Z."
BF: "ok"
HoneY: "HELLO!!!?! DID YOU JUST HEAR ME!?! PERSON A IS DOING XYZ!"
BF: "Is that good or bad? That's good right?"
HoneY: "You have got to be kidding me! Don't you think that is just INSANE!!??!"
BF: "not really"
HoneY: "I've gotta go."
This was just wholly unacceptable. How could he not hear from the distress in my voice that this was not a GOOD thing! Not a good thing at all!! And not only is it bad - it's shocking. Be a little shocked - would ya?!?
At this point I knew that only a best friend could make the world right, so I texted the Boss, and she delivered:
HoneY: "Person A is doing XYZ"
The Boss: "Holy Shit!"
Friday, March 21, 2008
It's the little things
One of the funny things about moving to New York is that you suddenly find novelty again in the things that had once been mundane. For example, as a Manhattanite, there is hardly a treat in the world so great as riding in a car (cabs excluded) or taking a trip to Target. And so tonight, I have made plans to do one such activity. Yes ladies and gentlemen - tonight I will be dining at Applebee's!
Now, the important thing to understand here is that I don't even really LIKE Applebee's. I didn't like it when I lived in the south, and I don't particularly like it now. But for some reason, be it nostalgia or insanity, I am REALLY REALLY looking forward to spending my evening with a bunch of tourists, in Times Square, scarfing greasy french fries and Veggie Patch pizza at Applebee's. Like - full on PUMPED about it.
I think perhaps it is that same instinct that you may have had in High School. The one that tells you that it would be fun to sneak into the ball pit at McDonalds and play. On the one hand, it's a bit rebellious. There is something enticing about being somewhere you just aren't supposed to be. By the same token, however, you are getting to re-live that youthful fun, if only for a moment, without ruining your street cred.
So call me what you will. A rebel or a fool. Either way I plan to fully enjoy my trip back in time, and my $24.99 appetizer combo.
Now, the important thing to understand here is that I don't even really LIKE Applebee's. I didn't like it when I lived in the south, and I don't particularly like it now. But for some reason, be it nostalgia or insanity, I am REALLY REALLY looking forward to spending my evening with a bunch of tourists, in Times Square, scarfing greasy french fries and Veggie Patch pizza at Applebee's. Like - full on PUMPED about it.
I think perhaps it is that same instinct that you may have had in High School. The one that tells you that it would be fun to sneak into the ball pit at McDonalds and play. On the one hand, it's a bit rebellious. There is something enticing about being somewhere you just aren't supposed to be. By the same token, however, you are getting to re-live that youthful fun, if only for a moment, without ruining your street cred.
So call me what you will. A rebel or a fool. Either way I plan to fully enjoy my trip back in time, and my $24.99 appetizer combo.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Thy name is HoneY, and thou shalt blog
You think you know, but you have no idea...
Ok. Scratch that and let's start over. I'm not too keen on being the girl whose blog begins with a tired line from some mid-nineties MTV show. Then again, I'm not quite sure what kind of beginning I am keen on, so I suppose I'll just keep it. Besides, I think it is fitting, triteness and all.
Let's start with the basics. I'm a 20-something. Wide-eyed and fresh out of graduate school, I have spent the past few years looking for fulfillment in anything I can. Despite the extensive soul searching, I haven't quite put my finger on what it is I want out of life (although I believe that the discovery of Pinkberry comes pretty close). Unfortch for me, I don't know anyone who can explain to me what the hell that stuff actually is either.
I grew up in the south, on the Virginia/Tennessee line, and have developed a serious distaste for all things NASCAR as a result. Don't call me a hypocrite if you catch me at a race though - I will do just about anything for the experience and hilarious photo potential. If you don't believe me, I will send you a copy of my 2006 Season pass to Dollywood. Seriously. Hit me up.
These days, though, I spend my time on the friendly shores of Manhattan, New York just trying to experience the city life and embrace this whole "Corporate America" thing. Deep down I still kind of think this makes me a sellout, so I am forever scheming to give it all up in the hopes of opening my own traveling tiki 'bar'ge. You see, I would live on my barge, wear flip flops every day, and sail from town to town bringing joy to all. Kind of like Santa Claus - only with a blender and really high insurance premiums.
So with that, let the games begin. Who knows - maybe this blog will be interesting enough to "set sail" itself. Ok - I know - only if I promise to stop it with the puns.
Ok. Scratch that and let's start over. I'm not too keen on being the girl whose blog begins with a tired line from some mid-nineties MTV show. Then again, I'm not quite sure what kind of beginning I am keen on, so I suppose I'll just keep it. Besides, I think it is fitting, triteness and all.
Let's start with the basics. I'm a 20-something. Wide-eyed and fresh out of graduate school, I have spent the past few years looking for fulfillment in anything I can. Despite the extensive soul searching, I haven't quite put my finger on what it is I want out of life (although I believe that the discovery of Pinkberry comes pretty close). Unfortch for me, I don't know anyone who can explain to me what the hell that stuff actually is either.
I grew up in the south, on the Virginia/Tennessee line, and have developed a serious distaste for all things NASCAR as a result. Don't call me a hypocrite if you catch me at a race though - I will do just about anything for the experience and hilarious photo potential. If you don't believe me, I will send you a copy of my 2006 Season pass to Dollywood. Seriously. Hit me up.
These days, though, I spend my time on the friendly shores of Manhattan, New York just trying to experience the city life and embrace this whole "Corporate America" thing. Deep down I still kind of think this makes me a sellout, so I am forever scheming to give it all up in the hopes of opening my own traveling tiki 'bar'ge. You see, I would live on my barge, wear flip flops every day, and sail from town to town bringing joy to all. Kind of like Santa Claus - only with a blender and really high insurance premiums.
So with that, let the games begin. Who knows - maybe this blog will be interesting enough to "set sail" itself. Ok - I know - only if I promise to stop it with the puns.
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