Loads of Fun

I’m writing this blog post from the floor of a Laundromat in the lower east side. My mac just auto-capitalized the word Laundromat and I think that’s hilarious because there is nothing proper about this place. That being said, I am literally sitting on the tiles in front of my dryer so who am I to talk? My mother would be mortified right now.  I’m hoping she would at least be proud of my frugality. I am washing and drying my own clothes and saving approximately ten dollars for doing so. 

The past two weeks have been beyond incredible. I know it sounds cliché and self-indulgent, but I literally wake up every morning and tell God that I can’t believe I’m here and I’m this happy. I have a support group of the best friends and family I could possibly imagine. I have two roommates who are gorgeous and spunky and could not be kinder to me. I have an opportunity for higher education with NY freaking U. I have a job. And I live in the greatest city in the world. #Blessed

I read Crossing Brooklyn Ferry and Here is New York for my Storied New York class this week and I think E.B. White captures my sentiments perfectly.

“New York provides not only a continuing excitation but also a spectacle that is continuing. I wander around, re-examining this spectacle, hoping that I can put it on paper.” …or the internet.

Classes are fab, and challenging but I’m not overwhelmed yet. My first assignments were a NYFW story and a mini profile of a classmate. Did I shamelessly flirt with a young security guard to make my way into the Lincoln Center lobby where I interviewed the head of security, his Dartmouth/Georgetown alum son, and a lovely production manager? That doesn’t sound like me.

I really love the Tavern because it makes me feel like a New Yorker. All the employees have at least 2 jobs, most have 3 or more, and represent all the city’s best archetypes.

There’s the beautiful young actress with a wit that keeps me at her side most of the night.

There’s the 50-year-old rockstar who refuses to get old and still sticks it to the man.

There’s the cute little Italian filmmaker whose accent is as adorable as her size and quip-py conversation.

There’s the part-time stand-up comedian who feels like your aunt, ready with a hilarious impression or some sound relationship advice.

There’s the male-cougar (not sure what the equivalent is) bartender who was totally hott with two t’s a few years ago, and still worth the harmless work-flirt.

There’s the Hispanic bus boy with the sly smile who you want to talk to all night but he’s so busy because of his incredible work ethic.

There’s the cranky New Yorker who yells at everyone and complains all the time in a way that’s so endearing because you know he secretly loves this job and you.

I could go on.

Work gives me a purpose and allows me to entertain the notion that I’m a “real-life working girl” juggling school, church, social outings, and a job. I know I am definitely here by the grace of God and Lowell & Paula Mooney, but it’s nice to feel like I’m contributing SOMETHING. Plus, I got to seat Josh Lucas last night and his blue eyes are as magical in a poorly lit restaurant as they are on the silver screen. EEK. 

I’ve also had two run-ins with Nick Jonas and I’m not sure if this fortuitous happenstance is indicative of anything—I know Melissa Bene really wants it to be.

Friday night, Sept. 13, was my first official “night out” in the city. Some magazine kids met up in an apartment to pregame and then hit Phebes, Off the Wagon, and an awesome pizza place on W 4^th street. It was a wonderful evening. I say this with the utmost love and respect for my dear Athens and fellow Dawgs, but going out in NYC feels more glamorous.. The crowd is a little smarter. The clothes are a little better. The DJS are a little more experienced. The light fixtures are a little more expensive. You get the drift.  Though my lack of funds means these outings may be few and far between, I am looking forward to the ones I can slip in every now and then.

So now that I’ve washed clothes in a Laundromat, I secretly feel this small happening constitutes loads of progress (forgive me) towards becoming a bona fide New Yorker. Now I guess I just sit back and wait for the slow downward spiral into loneliness and self-loathing. Those are inevitable here, right? 

Frate/Freight

Though its spot on urban dictionary suggests that someone else had a similar stroke of brilliance, I like to think I coined the term, "frate."

Frate 

a term used to describe a date with friends. It combines the

               words, "friend" and "date." A friend date.

I was incredibly blessed to have best friend Becky with me for a 4-day frate my first weekend in the city. (Sidenote: "Best friend isn't a person, it's a tier." --Mindy Kaling) I also met her boyfrand Andreas, the ticklish chemist. He's adorable. They're adorable. Insert cute asian-inspired emoticon here.

I love Becky because she is unapologetically who she is without being insensitive and I think this is a difficult balance to master. Examples: She knows it drives me INSANE when she kisses people's hand upon meeting them, but it's one of her quirks so she does it anyway. She tells me when she's tired or hungry or bored or not in to something. However, if put in a situation she does not want to be in and then asked to complete a task she does not want to complete, she will be and complete in a heartbeat if it means making my life easier.

Saturday consisted of lunch in central park, drinks @Parkside, and a very disappointing football game. I did have the opportunity to witness Ryan's charms in action when he got us a barrel at American Whiskey, after being told they were all full. I'm looking forward to UGA games at this bar, if for no other reason than the Clayton Street Cocktail which was pink and delicious.

Sunday started at Gallery Church which was very nice, but not the scene I picture myself in for this time in my life. Wow, that sounded pretentious. I just mean the seats were cold metal, the sermon was a little long and unfocused, and the songs were from the 90s. I was a little distracted, however, with thoughts of Becky and my next musical engagement with First Date.

First Date felt very much like a semi-successful middle school dance. There were moments of unexpected creativity, some awkwardly placed profanity, and many grasps (not all successful) for profundity and personal reflection. But at the end of the night, the same typecast characters showed up, someone got kissed, and in the truest of middle school fashion, the transitions between emotions were sporadic and awkward.

Zachary Levi was flawless. Though not a powerhouse, his vocals were spot on and lovely. His movements and inflections were always with intention and he absolutely dazzled the crowd as a completely believable and charming boy next door. Though, I'll confess I was sweating even more than usual during his solo number. After the show Zach and the rest of the cast came out for meet & greets and pictures. Zachary Levi is an absolute doll. He said my name and that it was a pleasure to meet me and God bless. I'd like to skip over the rest of the story in which I spoke a million miles an hour and attempted to be funny...unsuccessfully.

On Monday, we visited Trader Joes where Becky and I waited in line for over an hour and argued about whether organic was actually worth an additional 34 cents. I found out my monthly allowance for rent; it's definitely not. Becky then taught me how to prepare delicious veggie tacos and I learned how to pronounce quinoa (KEENWAH). Yes. Crushed it.

Becky was indispensable with all her help unloading, cleaning, constructing, and organizing my apartment. But, I obviously enjoyed the frate more than the freight...baha. We spent time a lot of time this extended weekend in coffee shops and diners, and I think those times were my favorite. We never discussed anything especially special, but I remember having moments where I realized I was so happy. I was so happy to be sitting in a simple place, eating good food, and enjoying the company of someone who gets me completely and loves me all the more for my flaws.

IKEA came on Tuesday and turned our stairwell into a cardboard jungle so that was extremely inconvenient. Fortunately, 20 unnecessarily huge cardboard boxes make for great conversation pieces and I did chat it up with some neighbors. Though I missed Friends Trivia and a frate with my roommates/neighbors, I did get my life in a kind of order and Skype with Laura--a friend I'd neglected amidst the hustle and bustle of the weekend. I can't believe I'm the type of person who'd use the phrase hustle and bustle...and who'd write about it instead of deleting it.

I start work today and classes tomorrow. Let's hope I make friends.

Also, Melissa Bene leaves the country for 3 months tomorrow.