I'm feeling wild...

Why am I such a sucker for prints? I just placed a bid on a "vintage" Kate Spade animal print satchel on eBay. Even though I am supposed to be on the quality-over-quantity program (especially with bags because I am a handbag whore), every now and then I see something I just need to have. And it usually involves some sort of print -- either logo or animal.

Today, I'm just going to ponder my animal print fetish; I'm quite fond of animal print, particularly leopard.


My *fabulous* Kenneth Cole "Soft Serve" pony-hair pumps -- I wore it with a retro looking Diane von Furstenberg dress to my friend Jessica's Spring wedding in Orlando. Being that it was such a contrast to my all black dress, it was quite noticeable. I didn't even have to wear an inkling of jewelry!




Here's me and the ladies at Pastis in NYC for my bachelorette party. Note my Sweet Pea doe-colored print top. I was feeling a little Carrie Bradshaw that evening, wearing a black bra w/ that top. Hey, I'm in New York, I figured why not. Actually, I think it was because I forgot to pack something more appropriate to go under the tank.

A few weeks after that, at my bridal shower, I wore a leopard-print blouse with a necktie from H&M (tres retro chic), and dark AG Merlot jeans. I spent more time searching for the perfect black shell to match that blouse than I did on anything else for that event. (I have to dig up the photo...it was so cute, seriously).

Other items of animal nature:
- JC flats in leopard print
- Steven flats in black snakeskin print
- Kenneth Cole "Banana Split" leopard print pony-hair loafers
- Kate Spade giraffe print tote (a score off eBay)
- J. Crew giraffe print cardigan
- Forth & Towne python belt (By the way, I'm really sad about this store closing. They have some great stuff!)

Do I have a problem? Maybe, but these things dress up a plain outfit. Plus there's just something about it that speaks to me.

Let's hope I win that bid!

Note: The Kate Spade Madison satchel in Lizard Faille is no longer in production.

We like the pass/fail...

I've been meaning to blog, but the last couple of days was spent studying feverishly for my real estate continuing education exams. I have to take 12 credits of continuing ed every 2 years to keep my salesperson license up to date. This year is the first year that I took the full 12 credits due to some licensing rule (I thank whoever that was for the break 2 years ago). The Licensing Act of 2000 mandates that each salesperson/broker has to take these credits and pass the exams for each course with 70%. You don't have to go to class, you can do it via self-study.

The problem is, the people who write the material can be vague with concepts, be misinformed, or even flat out wrong on some of the things in the books. Unfortunately, this knowledge does not help me pass the exams, which were written to only test you on the really crappy parts of the study guides.

In all cases, I read and re-read every study book and took simplified notes that made the jumble of stuff that was written make more sense. The only course I knew was going to be a problem was the course on my profession--commercial real estate leases. You'd think being a commercial real estate salesperson was going to come in handy. However, as i took the test, i could already tell which ones I was going to get wrong. It was a feeling, something like when the hair on your arms kind of stands up a bit sort of thing.

I took the test, didn't look back, and gave it to the person at the desk to score. The very next thing I hear is, "Christy, you can send your renewal paperwork in." I went to the counter to get the credit sheets for my files, and started to ask about the ones i got wrong. The guy was very matter of fact, "you got 5 wrong -- you passed." I don't think he was going to show me my scores, cause in his mind, what is the point? If you pass, you pass. Who cares which ones you got wrong? So i thought better of it, took my papers, and got out of there but quick!

Thank god for the pass/fail, cause my license renewal is due in 5 days!

90 Seconds of Undeniable Truth

Earlier this evening, I embarked on what can truly be considered intense self-evaluation encapsulated in two 45-second intervals of hell. I voluntarily made an appointment to find out my body composition (% of lean muscle versus fat). Since my go-to hang out jeans were snug, let's just say I was not expecting the numbers to be in my favor.

The program used at my gym to measure body composition is called BodPod. It is similar to hydrostatic weighing but uses air displacement instead of water. The accuracy of the system is +/- 1-2%, whereas traditional methods like Skin-fold calipers ( the “pinch test”) can vary by 6-8%. You sit still inside a pod (thus the name) for 45-seconds as the computer takes in all the information from the pod. The test is done twice to account for small variables like sudden movements, etc. It's a serious thing to do; you cannot eat, drink, or work out 2 hours before the test. I also had to wear minimal clothing and as form-fitting as possible to ensure the best and most accurate test. I had a swim cap on because airpockets in the hair can change the results. After about 2 minutes of eternity, my test scores came shooting out of the printer in the room.

I am 29% fat.

The trainer administering the test was talking, but I don't think I heard much of it. I was having an out-of-apparently-flabby-body-experience seeing that number on the paper. (I feel it necessary to pause here and remind readers that the percentage of muscle to fat is not the same as the Body Mass Index (BMI) that so many people like to use, but does not account for a variety of factors, such as genetics, ethnicity, and body type.) The truth is, I should have known this was the case. I gained 6 pounds since right before my wedding, when I slowly but surely began to slack off on the exercise. There was too much to do. Then I spent about a month basking in the wedding celebration and subsequent honeymoon. Shortly after that, I took on a series of desk-bound assignments and spent less time at the gym. My life as a student/wedding planner worked well for the body. My life since wrapping up finals...not so much.

Here is the chart that was provided to me:
Body Fat Rating for Men & Women
Risky: >30% / >40%
Excess Fat: 21-30% / 31-40%
Moderately Lean: 13-20% / 23-30%
Lean: 9-12% / 19-22%
Ultra Lean: 5-8% / 15-18%
Risky (low body fat): <5% / <15%
*Applies to adults ages 18 and older. Based on information from the American College of Sports Medicine, the American Council on Exercise, Exercise Physiology [4th Ed] by McArdle, Katch, and Katch, and various scientific and epidemiological studies.

Sure, I'm in the "Moderately Lean" bracket, but on the higher end. I am certain that the 6 lbs. I put on was all fat, thus making my previous percentage 24-25%. In my post-wedding haze, I just set myself back a whole year of workouts.

Even before having a sophisticated piece of equipment telling me I needed to get off my duff, I already started my road back to recovery, if you will. One of my 2007 resolutions is to get on my workouts again, and what a great way to push myself back into the pain & the grind, eh? I've begun my 3-4 workouts per week again, and will start watching even more carefully what I eat.

This experience really demonstrates that to be healthy, the right diet and exercise is not something you can do intermittently, but a lifestyle.

Product Review: Moisture Boosting Body Balm by H20+

Yes, another body lotion review! I realized that I failed to mention one of my favorite accidental discoveries. Normally, I use Vaseline Intensive Care's Skin Renewal lotion or Intensive Rescue lotion, and a selection of pleasing Bath & Body Works products for my skin. But on a day when I am missing things in my gym bag (read: socks, sometimes underwear), I swing into the pro shop and leave with more than what I need. It was on one such occasion that I came into a large tube of H20+'s Raspberry Guava Moisture Boosting Body Balm. I didn't give it much thought until after the work out, post-shower when I was about to slather myself from head to toe with lotion.

This thing was like buttah.

I smoothed a good dollop onto my leg and it just melted into my skin. The scent was really nice and not too over=powering. I could have stood there all day, putting this lotion on! Hours later, my skin was still soft. H2O+ advertises the product as being:
"Natural fruit extracts combine with emollient shea butter and soothing aloe vera for an all-over healthy radiance. Provitamin B and vitamin E nourish for the softest, most supple skin."

Needless to say, my skin was feeling radiant, soft, and supple. It felt that way hours later, unlike some moisturizers I've tried. I squeezed every last drop I could out of that tube. I recently bought the Lemon Lust scented balm -- I'm loving the flavor already, and nothing beats smooth, silky skin in warm weather.

You can buy the entire collection of Body Balms in a variety of flavors for $7.00 per 8 oz. tube. Each flavor also has a matching shower gel.

Happy Birthday, CD!

Product Review: Guava Body Butter by Korres Natural Products

At my recent trip to Sephora, I was given a 1-ounce sample of the Korres Guava Body Butter. Being plagued with dry skin practically all four seasons of the year, I am always interested in a new moisturizing product.

Korres is an Athens-based company focused on making affordable organic skin, hair, and beauty products. The owners George & Lena Korres, started out as a pharmacy and then researched formulating their own products rooted in homeopathic traditions.

I decided to try the Guava body butter before going to bed. The packaging is no fuss, which I like. Upon my initial inspection, the consistency of the body butter was nice and thick. You have to work the product into your skin, and there's an immediate difference. My skin was firm, moisturized, but not greasy. The guava smell was just the right intensity. Sometimes moisturizers can have too much fragrance and be very distracting.

If you are looking for a new moisturizer for your legs, the Guava Body Butter is definitely worth a look. You can find the Korres body butter in Guava, Fig, Quince, and Yogurt (5.7 oz for $19.50).

Decisions, Decisions

It's been awhile since I last posted; I feel like the days are flying by lately. As previously mentioned, I've been temping while looking for a job. For awhile there, I thought I was getting complacent in my search because I was working a long-term assignment with no specific end date, taking interviews here and there and not finding anything very exciting or interesting to do.

I wondered about my level of disdain and came to several conclusions:

1) Though I made a great living in my real estate career, I do not love real estate. I was very lucky to have worked with great people and blessed with great projects. But success does not come easy to everyone who gets into the industry. It is a roller coaster, and you have to decide when you want to get off the ride.

2) I have and will always have a deep interest in the law. My goal growing up was to be a lawyer; a great lawyer, in fact. It took the last couple years for me to learn that life is not something you can nor should you want to plan. If you really love something, you'll find your way back to it.

Which brings me to right now. I'm still interviewing, but mostly away from real estate. After much deliberation, I've decided to take the LSAT and apply for law school! CD is very supportive of my renewed aspiration. So I'm looking for job opportunities that will allow me to pursue my interest in law and enhance my personal life. The ideal job is low-stress, pays decent/well, and where work stays at work. This is something I have never fully experienced in my career so it will be somewhat foreign and take some adjustment. There is a lot of potential out there. I know that real estate will always be there for me if I want to go back to it, but now is not a bad time to see what else I can achieve. Life's too short to not take a leap.

Underpacked in Phoenix

My husband and I are visiting my father-in-law in Phoenix/Mesa, AZ and I deliberately and with great calculation determined what would NOT be going into my suitcase. The hot pink Juicy Couture long sleeve hoodie, the extra pair of Citizens jeans, some long sleeve tops for the somewhat cool evening dinners. Last year on this same trip, I was overpacked and sweated my way through 2 spring training games and had sunburnt scalp (not fun!). There was no way I'd be going through that this time.

We were delayed in Chicago for 6 hours due to some rain in the area, and I could not wait to get into the warm and persistent Arizona sunshine. En route to the airport after lugging my bags around a humid city, I realize I left my new Versace tortoiseshell sunglasses at home. 1 hour later, it was my glasses. Then I couldn't remember if I atleast put a cardigan in the bag for air-conditioned restaurants. Hubby reassured me that there was no need for the cardigan -- we are going to Phoenix, land of perpetual sunshine, and we could get shades at Target. My paranoia crept back into the corner. Nothing to worry about, right? We landed at 4:30am PST, caught a few hours of sleep and woke up to a cloudy sky. No sweat; clouds are a rarity here. As we headed to breakfast, I noticed a few drops of moisture coming down. No sweat. At best, Phoenix only gets sprinkles. As I worked on my coffee, the rain started coming down a little more. By the time I finished getting a stand-in pair of shades at Tar-jay, it was a massive downpour complete with lightning and thunder.

It proceeded to rain the entire first day of our so-called "escape from Chicago's bad weather" vacation. I have been subsisting on the 1 pair of jeans I packed, a new Proenza Schoeuler for Target sweatshirt I snagged when I saw the lighning crack through the sliding doors at the store, and my trusty cashmere scarf/wrap. Never have I felt so underpacked in my life! I'm never going to bitch about how I overpacked after this trip. I would rather be prepared for anything and everything. All I can say is, thank god for Target.

Work.

I found this draft blog from a couple months ago...the topic is utterly appropriate for today's discussions...

I am currently taking a class called Business Ethics, which is really a study of business practices and all things that relate to business practices. We look at it from the very bottom up, starting with what is right and wrong, what makes people happy, etc.

Today our topic was: What is work? What is the value of Work?

As I was doing the reading for this week, it seemed quite apropos that this topic come up. After all, I wanted to take this class to help me think about why I do what I do, whether I enjoy it, whether it is something I want to continue to pursuem, and whether there are other things out there that I should pursue. That is a lot of 'whethers', but that's life...lots of questions, not always easy to answer, or maybe not something one would think to require an answer. But these are all legitimate questions that we either have or will asked ourselves at one point or another.

Working in the real world is often described as "being in the rat race", meaning we are little laborious grunts doing what we have to do to get by. No real joy can be drawn from being part of that kind of working world. But the question is: Can we ever do what we want to do and love while making good money doing it? Or is it true that if you want to do what you love, then you will probably be poor doing so?

Talk amongst yourselves!

How much am I worth?

The US government says that the unemployment rate is about 4.6% (as of 2006), but everywhere I turn there are people who are and have been out of work. I met one of the perpetually unemployed just last night at my gym. He was in his mid 40s, in sales, and can't find a job in Chicago to save his life. He started a conversation with me while I was waiting for my carry out dinner order. It went from, "what'd you order?" to "So you aren't working." The funny thing is, this guy was not working either. I have come to find that unemployed professionals are constantly trying to get leads out of casual conversations; you almost feel like you're getting mugged. I'm glad I have not been guilty of such an activity. People can't help but measure themselves up to others in their same situation. Which is why another frequent activity of the jobless is asking the question: How much am I worth?

Employers like to play the money game with you early -- when they post that job description on monster.com or speak to their recruiters. As a job seeker, you can set your value at the outset and search by that criteria. But the longer your search goes, the more your "value" may fluctuate. This is dependent on your mood for that day. When you are having a great day with interviews, etc., your value is pretty high. And on days when nothing is going on, and you are waiting for feedback or to schedule another interview, your value is low.

I've heard some stories about my parents' friends who were laid off from jobs they've had for 10-15 years. I wonder how they look at their value these days, having been out of work for 1-3 years. How do you reconcile your value (as determined by your last salary) with the current job market? It's rough out there. Should you take a job for less pay, thus decreasing your market value? Or do you hold out and wait for that perfect position, not knowing when it will come about? These are hard questions to answer.

As for my worth, my husband tells me he would pay millions for me. :) That's a pretty good start!

Snow Day!

Even though yesterday's on-slaught of snow was the second time Chicago has been pummeled with snow in 2 weeks, not including a major snowstorm in December, today is my first snow day this winter.

I'm actually having a "snow week", because I did not book any assignments this week. As you may know, I started looking for a new job in January, and signed up to do some temping through my recruiting agency to keep busy while conducting my search. Well, I've been on assignment the last 6 weeks, and good temps do not stay at home cause it is snowing outside. It has been good to get up and go to work with the rest of the world.

Sadly, snow is pretty for all of twenty minutes in the city, the time it takes for it to fall from the sky and accumulate on the trees, benches, streets, etc. Then the majority of the snow on the sidewalks, alleys, and streets becomes this dirty salty slush that destroys everything it covers. My one & only pair of Uggs has been abused this winter because of the extra salt Streets & Sanitation has had to lay down to combat the extremely cold temperatures we've experienced. And after a certain temp, salt actually doesn't work, which has resulted in several accidents all over the city.

Though I can't appreciate the current aesthetic of the snow, I am happy to sit in my warm house, watch the flakes come down while having coffee, and finally get to work on this blog!

Personality over just looks.

I'm happy that the Indianapolis Colts beat the New England Patriots to go to the Superbowl. I'm just a little tired of the Tom Brady love. Sure, he's good looking and won a few Superbowls. But that is exactly why I want someone else to have a shot. And there's no one better than Peyton Manning. No, Peyton is not the typical good-looking guy, but he's got lots of charisma and charm, as exhibited by his hilariously entertaining MasterCard commercials. He's cute in a boyish way too, but he doesn't get by on his looks, which is nice. I'd hang w/ Peyton any day over Tom Brady.

Sally and Tina sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g...

I want to let everyone know that I love my DirectTV . After a year-long battle with our condo association, we now have access to hundreds of channels worth of entertaining programming, and the killer HBO package (picture having 10 channels of HBO). I love it because I love to watch movies and tv shows, but somehow manage to miss most of them, so I have to catch up in my spare time. So anyway, I discovered a disturbing thing about my honey the other night. He is fascinated by girls kissing each other.

It was a lazy and late Sunday evening. We were watching TV while doing stupid stuff like folding laundry and filing things away. As my husband was channel surfing, he stumbled onto Real Sex, a show documenting human sexuality in various forms. Part of today's episode focused on a particular female porn actress discussing her decision to only do scenes with fellow females. Interlaced with the interview were scenes of the actress at work, and commentary on her chosen career specialty by porn industry executives. There was about 10 minutes left on this program, and so hubby continues to watch. And watch.

In these last 10 minutes, I learned more than I ever wanted to know about love scenes (or sex scene, as it was) with another female. As I was expressing my horror and disgust for what was being shown on screen, my husband sat there, very silent and ever so attentive to the screen. When I tried to get his attention to ask why it is so fascinating to watch girls kissing each other, he replied curtly, "I don't know...because all men like it, that's why." There was not further elaboration offered; he just went back to watching the show.

I wondered: Is it possible that we, as a general species, are hard-wired to like something so specific as 2 people kissing, let alone 2 women kissing? How could this be possible? As far as I can see, for every one type of thing, there are so many options. Take for example dessert. One person will like chocolate, another cake, another person creme brulee, and others will plain say they don't eat dessert (these are the folks who have not experienced all that is good in life!).

Unfortunately, regarding girls kissing one another, the answer is unequivocally, YES. I have asked many male friends about this, and it is the same answer every time. No wonder there are so many scandals involving women performing this very act. Look at Tara Conner, Miss USA, or the former Miss Nevada, Katie Rees, for that matter. When you know a little thing you do will ALWAYS get male attention, I suppose you would try to commit that act as often as possible. Especially if one were the type of woman prone to attention-mongering to begin with (read: beauty pageant contestants), starved for attention (read: comes from bad family with poor self-esteem), or just plain STUPID.

My suggestion for these girls with the bad publicity is: just because you can do something, doesn't mean you go do it! Save the raunchy sexual exploration for sleepovers with your girlfriends, not in public as you are about to be splashed on magazine covers and television. This is giving the general public the wrong message. The highly educated and successful business women, women's rights advocates, and homemakers now have more evidence that our country's gone down the crapper. Meanwhile, young girls are learning a faster way to get boys to like them, and pageant mothers across America are snickering at these poor idiots for blowing their chance at Fame!.

I don't blame men for their inevitable fascination with girl-on-girl, and I don't even have a problem with the actresses who make a career in porn. But I am really disappointed for the women who are supposed to be role models who take pride in doing charitable work with their public exposure, choosing to exploit themselves for a laugh, entertainment, or purely in bad taste.

Yes, disdain for the Boho lifestyle

I must have been fueled by hunger or caffeine withdraw when posting yesterday about the abominations of fashion facing me everyday when I walk out the door. In hindsight, the post seemed rather angsty, which I often get when I don't eat enough during the day.

Do not misunderstand the purpose of my post -- my point was not to rag (at least not viciously) about Anthropologie and the like. I realized that my post could be misconstrued as a mean criticism of mass marketing of trendy clothing, which is not all bad. I think it benefits everyone. I had two issues: 1)the premise of enabling upper-middle class women spending their money to dress like each other, and 2) spoon-feeding this bohos-in-paradise/francophile style in 5-10,000 square feet of retail.

That second realization happened as I walked past the store today. I looked at the window displays and asked myself, "What style is this place selling to the shopper?" It is clear that they are selling "one-of-a-kind items", except it's really en masse. But let's not draw attention to that. It is also clear that most of this stuff is designed to appear like you randomly reached into the closet and grabbed a handful of things to wear. Funky knits with odd prints, quirky colors, awkwardly cut pants and shirts...everything layered together into something that is supposed to be effortless, NOT bourgeois.

This what is regularly referred to as Boho. We're not talking about celebrity-styled boho cause that kind of style costs tens of thousands of dollars to achieve. True Boho style is to avoid looking like you spent a lot of money on superficial things like clothing, rather spending more on the "necessities" of life. You are to look artsy, free-spirited, and could care less about money. And so I ask you: Is it really Boho to spend $398 on a satchel purse? And does Paul & Joe really have to charge $60+ on a floral print cosmetic bag?

I guess it does if you have the money to try and look Boho, not actually be Boho.

Yuppie Housewife Fashion

I love clothes. Shoes, accessories, beauty products, etc., you name it, I probably have an affinity for it. I shop and shop often (but I'm trying to resist the urge now that I'm job hunting.) In my various jaunts through neighborhood shopping areas, I have noticed the sudden sprouting of stores geared towards a particular woman: the yuppy city housewife.

Before I get into this, I have to confess that my husband thinks we're yuppies. I am in disagreement...so let's get on with it.

This woman is in her late 20's/early 30's, with one or maybe two children under the age of 4, who drives a VW Jetta, Land Rover or some kind of SUV. She has the latest in baby stuff, be it the sling/pouch, the hi-tech double stroller, or camouflage jumpers and tees for $70 a pop. She likes to meet other moms & their babies out at the Einstein's Bagels in the neighborhood around 10:30-11:00am when they've finally managed to wrestle the kids into clean clothes and gathered all their equipment. This woman is not shy about being loud, commanding towards her children, or taking up public space on the sidewalk and in stores. She believes that if you don't have a child, then you must acquiesce to her.

Contrary to the image of the housewife as portrayed by the tv show, Desperate Housewives, these yuppie women are not what I would call fashionable. Just as Phoebe on Friends described Pottery Barn furniture as having "no soul", I would say these housewives are fashion drones because they wear what certain retailers market to them as hip. For example, while I am a fan of reasonably priced clothing, did Anthropologie really have to open up right by my house? For those of you not familiar with the brand, Anthropologie is for women who want non-conservative, tasteful, stylish, maybe slightly bohemiam...shabby chic, if you will. We're talking from clothing, books, housewares, right down to the little bar of soap you put in your bathroom. Nothing is tailored just right, it all looks a little worn, so you don't look canned, even though you are because they are mass marketing these goods nationwide via retail locations and catalog. I won't be a hypocrite and say I don't shop at the store, because I do. I have bought several candles for gifts, but I can't bring myself to love the clothes. Everything is laid out so you as a shopper do not have to do much thinking. You can pick up several items on the same table, rack and get an outfit out of it. We're talking quirky colors & prints, cuts, and materials. And because it's shown together, you think, "this must look good!" Despite my beef with the concept, the store, having only been open for 2-3 months, is doing spectacularly because of all the yuppie housewives patronizing it daily.

I'll give these women Anthropologie; they are attempting to look good, trendy even. However, I cannot excuse the ones who dig the frumpy sections of the department stores. My friend, Jen, recently got as a Christmas gift, something from the Karen Kanesection of Nordstrom. She was aghast, and so was I. Jen is a very stylish person, with a slant for European design in her clothes. I believe what she received was this odd peasant skirt which...I don't even have words for. Can anyone look good in this? I also take issue with the other items being shown, such as the crewneck mesh tee, the paisley faux wrap top, and the long denim skirt. What I find disturbing is that the target audience (aka our yuppie housewives) are being told it's ok to put all these "trends" on, often at the same time. That faux wrap top looks like someone threw up on it, and nobody, unless you are an anorexic 20 something could possibly look flattering in that denim skirt. If even the model looks crappy, why would our everyday shopper look any better?

IF you are a housewife with child(ren), looking find some stylish pieces or flirt with the latest trend, but not spend a fortune on clothing & accessories---I beg you to look at H&M, the soon-coming Zara, and the specialty designers for Target (ie. Tara Jarmon, Behnaz Sarafpour, Isaac Mizrahi). All three stores carry big trends of the day in disposable materials and a variety of cuts and colors, have many transition lines, turn product over quickly season-to-season, and won't break your bank account. H&M is also carrying some of their select, more timeless pieces in higher quality fabrics for just a fraction more on the price.

Already failing...

So, I had some potato chips just now.

Guess Resolution #2 is getting off to a bad start.

Happy New Year!

It has been months since I last posted and so much has happened since then. I'm happy to say in my first post of 2007 that I'm now a missus. We got married almost exactly 1 month ago in Mexico and honeymooned in Australia. We've only been back home for about a week, but it was a week jammed with activity. If the new year is anything like the last one, we'd better all hang on for the wild ride ahead.

Per tradition, I make a few resolutions every year and see if I get through them 12 months later. So here they are:
1) Exercise more and with more variety.
2) Give up potatoes (in all forms)
3) Try to abide by a "budget"
4) Cook more often
5) Make an effort to connect with friends regularly, especially those who I don't see often
6) Be a thoughtful wife :)
7) Read 75 books
8) Continue traveling

Girl in New York City

The last 3 days were billed as "End of My Singlehood" weekend where I, laden w/ several cute but not slutty outfits and a nice-sized budget, headed to New York City to indulge in all my single person habits of shopping, eating at fun restaurants, and having a few well-made drinks. Because said habits are actually quite harmless, I doubt I will cut back on them once I'm a married woman, but let's move on.

Friday (Day 1)
My friend, Jen D., flew out with me and after checking into our hotel (4 Points by Sheraton in Chelsea), we went to grab a bite at Corner Bistro. The place was divey and the burgers were crispy and good. We decided to walk around a bit after lunch and I just have to say this: if within 60 seconds you hit a street of never-ending shops, it's God trying to tell you something. We were on Bleeker, and it was good.

Highlights that day included:

- Getting fabulous boots from Sacco

- Almost getting kicked out of DKNY for taking this photo:

- Seeing Russell Simmons at Pastis

- Seeing a professional call girl working the room at Pastis

We rounded out our evening at the rooftop bar on top of a hotel, and went home fairly early to prepare for our big purse shopping day. Amusing sight on our way back: 2 trannies doing business by Penn Station.

Saturday (Day 2)

Something needs to be said about the availability of good food in New York...no matter where you go, there's always some great little deli around the corner, or a cute cafe for quick bites.

After getting something to eat, we headed down to Canal Street, where the daily business of wheeling and dealing was well on its way. I have been here at least once a year for the last 4 years, and it always amazes me how hard people hustle on this street. We visited a few spots (shady: back of a 1989 Dodge mini-van with wood paneling), but hit the jackpot when we met Benny. Benny is a cool dude with a killer retail location. We spent hours there, and came home with serious finds! My mother, from hundreds of miles away, managed to do some damage via cellphone. Bottom line is: If you need a fab purse, Benny's the guy.

Saturday night was a weird one for the books. After having a fun sushi meal at Nobu Next Door (which is probably more fun than Nobu itself), we decided to go to a few clubs. I had done some research on places people actually go to in New York, and felt like my selections were pretty safe. Who knew they would be jammed with lines out the door? You'd think in a big club/bar scene like New York, there'd be plenty of places for people to disperse? We didn't even make it into the 1st location because the line was down an entire city block.

Our next spot was a bar called Milk & Honey, supposedly real low key. We walked through LES to get to this place, and for those people who think LES is getting cleaned up? It's not there yet. What do we find when we get to the address? A scary door with a buzzer. The next 15 minutes were hilarious, and I'll just leave it at that. Random happening: When we scurried away from the "scary door", a weird pot-bellied, unbathed asian man in a whitebeater belched ever so appropriately as we passed him.

After that, we were all getting tired (since it was after midnight). So we hailed a cab and made our way back to the 14th st area where we had a ton of fun the night before. Here's where I tell you to beware of certain waitstaff late night if you aren't drunk enough. They are rude, incompetent, and just looking to start a fight with a potential patron. I was excited about getting a drink at a certain asian themed restaurant, but we had to leave before I punched the hostess/waiter. And I'm not even a violent person.

We surveyed our surroundings at this point and realized that any decent bar/lounge/club had a line. It was awful, and I realized that I didn't prepare enough for this trip. I would never let this happen for anyone else's party that I was planning. We finally sat down at a wine bar and did our champagne toast before dragging our tired (but cute) asses back to the hotel. Though it was a crazy night, I still think that we had fun on our adventure through some of the quirky parts of Manhattan.

Sunday (Day 3)

Thank God that Sunday is a day of rest. We got up late, lumbered down to Cafeteria for food (they made us wait...what else is new?), and got to see Dylan McDermott in the flesh while eating. Then Kim S. went home and Jen & I went back to Canal Street for one last look around. I actually think we were shopped out at this point. My luggage was seriously overweight from all the new purchases, and I was mentally exhausted trying to figure out how I was going to get it all home. Plus, I had shin splints!

We got to LaGuardia and had our last celebrity sighting of the trip: Kimora Lee Simmons (soon to be ex-Simmons) and her entourage, strutting down the terminal right past us! After that, we settled in at the gate, and hours later, made it back to Chicago. I didn't even get charged for having overweight luggage. ;)

What a trip!

What goes around.

Last Saturday was my 10-year high school reunion. It was organized by the Class of 1996 reunion committee, and took place at The Grand Central in Lincoln Park. I was listed as a "missing" classmate.

Where was I? At the same time the reunion was happening, I was in the North suburbs, watching my friend Coleen get married. If I wasn't at the wedding, I'm not sure if I would have gotten dressed up to see my former classmates. Part of me was replaying Romy & Michele's High School Reunion in my head (which by the way, was an entertaining movie). While I was neither Romy nor Michele in high school, it was still a slightly angsty time in my young life. There were a few notable "goods" then: I met my best friend Alison, developed a strong interest in social sciences and double majored in history/poli-sci at college, and the studly Humanities teacher who inspired a newfound respect for learning about ancient civilizations and made time fly by in class. The rest of it--teenage hormones, boy/girl drama, social confusion/embarassment, etc. etc--that stuff I could do without.

Lucky for me Alison decided to take it upon herself to drop in on the party and give me the details afterwards. I'm surprised to say that I was actually interested to hear how some people turned out.

The good news is: karma is a bitch. The first thing she pointed out and repeated several times is that the girls who were the "Queen Bees" of our class were no longer all that. Apparently, the last decade was not kind to some of their waistlines, fashion sense, and/or general abilities to groom themselves properly. Of all the women that attended, 5 or 6 looked like they were doing well. This was a huge victory for Alison and the rest of us who were traumatized by the perfectly hairsprayed fluffy hair, good lip gloss, and just-right outfits. These were also the girls that drank on weekends, were maybe a little fast (to their advantage) and had cute boys admiring them. We never felt like we could measure up to them. But here they are, looking less than perfect, looking you up and down, and some begrudingly telling you that you look fabulous. Because you do.

Another piece of good news: A lot of guys in high school were late bloomers. Those boys who were shy, slightly dorky, geeks, clumsy, whatever...they turned out handsome, sucessful, with great personalities. The potential for doing bigger things and the personality was there in each of them, but it took a little longer for them to grow into it. For the better, I think. It's like aging a fine wine. Maybe it cause a little grief back then, but like for the girls, things finally evened out for them, and now they are on par if not above the people they admired. And that is kind of nice.

Finally we get to the good-looking ones. Alison ran into her big crush (one of the good looking ones) who tormented her mercilessly for 4 years. It was pointed out to him that he didn't make her life easy in their mutual classes, and he admitted that was true but it was because he had a crush on her! The two spent the rest of the evening chatting, and were joined by his fellow good-looking friends of high school. Said friends couldn't stop fawning over her, telling her how wonderful she looked, and how different she was from back then. This I find the most ironic. Clearlly Alison has evolved from high school and blossomed into the wonderful person she was meant to be, and these guys who we secretly crushed on from afar years and years ago stayed the same. Not more interesting, more successful, and certainly not any less of any of it. But they finally really see and can't stop hitting on the girl they never noticed or wouldn't consider spending time talking to 10 years ago. Vindication!

This reunion got me thinking alot about who I am and how I got here. There were plenty of good moments to remember, coupled with some stinging ones as well. Both are needed to build character, as people like to say. It's a little scary how high school can affect your thinking and how the mentality and the cliques that build carry over into real life. By real life I mean one that is outside of a fish bowl such as high school, and sometimes even college. We get so caught up in the ethos of those particular systems because we're supposed to have this collective experience, and then what? What happens after you leave the pond?

Which begs the question: Do we ever really grow out of who we are then? I'd like to think so, but you can identify types of people everywhere you go, even in your workplace. At one of my former jobs, our office was run kind of like a mini-high school or fraternity. You could visualize who was the Big Man on Campus, the Popular Girl, the Social Director, the Drama geek...which can be a whole other post altogether.

Sometimes I wish I could do things over again with some knowledge of what I know now; there are so many things I'd do differently. But I can't, so I'm just going to have to save up the wise words for my children one day.

Age.

Aging is a funny thing. It happens when you aren't really looking. So much of our habits and perspectives are based on what part we are at in our lives. I never thought much about it until recently, when I realized that truly, I am getting older.

There are certain "great" ages, and some not so great. For awhile there, I was stuck at 18. Years 19 and 20 were blurry because while I can do so much more as a person, I was not 21. Couldn't drink, party, whatever. Not that I necessarily wanted to; it was more about having the choice of. Then I was happily 24. It was a good age because I was legitimate for the first time as an adult, no longer in school and with a decent 2+ years of work experience behind me. I lingered for a bit at 26, only because it seemed better than 25, and I had a solid career with a great relationship. Unfortunately, my life should have more purpose, says my dad, who likes to remind me that all of his sisters had atleast one child by the age of 20. My mother chimes in that she had me when she was 25. Not a chance in hell, I always shoot back.

27 has been hugely memorable because of so many things: the mind-blowing success of my job, becoming someone's fiancee with a wedding to plan, the conclusion of my job, not to mention traveling, friends with weddings & babies...I've probably been operating on adrenaline and emotions for the last 11 months.

27 has also memorable because it's the first time that my age has shown. Nothing stings more than the first time you are referred to as "ma'am". Or when you walk down the street and wonder "what is wrong with these kids who don't dress appropriately for the weather", or "why are they so sloppy?"

I have been repeatedly "ma'am"ed in the last two months. The first time was at a White Sox game. I was eating an ice cream sundae on the Club Level and I heard someone say, "Ma'am? Ma'am?" I'm not really paying attention because I know it can't possibly be someone talking to me. Then I got tapped in the shoulder. The kid sitting next to me wanted to know where I got the ice cream. I almost didn't answer him because I was in shock. The other times have been at stores, be it at a pharmacy or standing in line for books -- it's "ma'am" this, and "ma'am" that. Consider me officially scared.

The other day I took a good look in the mirror and noticed my face seemed different. My cheeks were not as puffy, more refined. My eyes and nose, which I used to hate because they seemed so tiny and inconsequential appeared distinct, like they were finally right. It was me, and yet it didn't seem like me. I wasn't sure how to feel about it. Days later, when I caught myself in the mirror again, I saw myself and decided that I was fine with it. I wouldn't trade away the lessons I've learned and the confidence I have now for a few less fine lines or to look a couple years younger. The bottomline is, age happens. It's the people who let it get them down or make them paranoid that suffer the most; those people who are the advertiser's dream consumer: people who love to buy products being hawked by the people of "mature age" on television and in magazines, so certain we need more hair, less hair, to cleans/purify/exfoliate/massage -- do whatever it takes to turn.

Don't get me wrong, it still gets me a little that there are people out there who see me as old. I feel this a lot when I am walking around downtown among my fellow students at the university. But it's true, I have had more worldy experience than them, and they in turn look young in my eyes. And that's fine.