Josh Lucas is just as cute in person.

I saw him while I was working at the Tropfest Short Film Festival where he was a judge. But you know, I would not have recognized him if I didn't know he was present. But I think that is a good thing.

Andrea and me standing outside a little place we like to call candy heaven


Andrea really liked her Sassy Red Velvet Cupcake

Angie, like me chose pumpkin. Or Pummmmmmpkin

Pacing myself

God save the Queen...and fish and chips

Still ready for more foods dieticians warn us about

I will never make fun of anyone who orders this stuff at a state fair ever again.

For the Love of Refined Carbohydrates

Remember when you were a kid and your mom wouldn't let you have any cookies because she said it would spoil your dinner? Remember how you thought dinner was already spoiled because of a certain fungi that would be present in the casserole? Then, do you recall that you told yourself that when you were a grown-up you would eat all the cookies and candy you wanted and that would be your dinner? OK maybe that's just my memories I am projecting on the masses, but I must say as a grown-up I haven't really lived up to that little promise I made to myself when I was six. Somehow Heavenly Father saw fit to bless me with a few body image issues that keep me headed for the produce section instead of the bakery when I make my weekly grocery purchases. I guess I should be grateful, but a few weeks ago I had to break free--flabby arms be damned--and I joined some friends on a little junk food excursion.

My roommate Angie claims to be a junk food junkie. That's probably true because she knows all the really good bakeries in the city, eats chips and always seems to have a good stash of candy in her room. A few months ago she bonded with a girl named Andrea at church that has an even larger junk food addiction than my roommate. Andrea stated that in high school, her brown bag lunch of choice was three Snickers bars and an RC Cola. Wow. I was impressed. However, Andrea was not familiar with all the cupcake places in town. I informed her of a little place that is number one in my heart--Sugar Sweet Sunshine--and she, Angie and I decided that we would have to take a trip down there to try it out. I then said that we could stop by Economy Candy and get some other goodies as well. Thus Junk Food Saturday was born.

We decided to get our junk food fix during Labor Day weekend. That Saturday Angie and I met Andrea on the A train, and after switching to a D, and then an F, we arrived in the Lower East Side. We decided to start our fun at Economy Candy, where my other roommate Lacey joined us. Economy Candy is a fun store. Although they don't carry everything there is a fabulous selection of European, novelty, M&Ms, Jelly Bellys and nostalgic treats. I normally don't buy a lot of candy. When I want sugar I usually reach for a cookie, cupcake or pie. But that day I felt like a 13-year- old girl with babysitting money and decided to indulge. I bought a Picnic bar (British-and delish), Haribo Gummi Bears, Jelly Bellys, a Charleston Chew, a little box of Baci and sour cherry balls. I remember that I liked sour cherry balls as a kid, but I had forgotten about them. Let me tell you, I renewed my love for that confection. I kind of can't wait to get some more.

The next stop was Sugar Sweet Sunshine (SSS), which is just a half a short block away from the candy store. SSS is the best cupcake place in NYC. A friend referred me to this place, and once while wandering around the Lower East Side I found it and decided to see if the cupcakes were indeed as good as I was told. At that time I was pretty much pro-Magnolia, despite the tourist-filled line. Things changed when I sunk my teeth into a moist pistachio-flavored cupcake. And since that wonderful day in August, I haven't had a better cupcake. On Junk Food Saturday I finally decided to try the pumpkin flavored cupcake. It was divine, but not as good as their other flavors. Still, I licked the wrapper and debated eating another one. Andrea dived right into her second cupcake. I thought long and hard, and since I knew our day was not done, I just took a good, long whiff of my remaining cupcakes and had a few sour cherry balls instead.

Our next stop on our junk food adventure was for something salty to balance all the sweet. One would think that our next stop would be for a pickle considering that particular neighborhood is home to all the big pickle vendors. However, all the big pickle vendors are Jewish, and their establishments are closed on Saturdays. (Good for them for observing their Sabbath.) Instead we decided to mix our salt with a little trans fat and headed to Brooklyn for the Atlantic Chip Shop, a little restaurant that serves traditional British fare like crispy, greasy, salty fish and chips. In a word, YUM. I really like fish and chips, and this was the best fish and chips I have ever eaten. The only way they could be better was if I was actually eating them in London. I ate every last bit, and it was a large piece of fish. But we didn't just stop there.

You are probably amazed that we weren't wanting to hurl at this moment. Let me warn you, Junk Food Days are not for the weak of stomach. And you have to pace yourself. Andrea did regret her second cupcake. But we still ordered dessert.

Not only does the Chip Shop have great fish and chips, they also serve up some fried treats for dessert. It was hard to decide which treat to get so we decided to split a fried Twinkie, Mars bar, and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. I have always been a Twinkie fan, but they are so good deep fried; I enjoyed it over the other two candies, but they did not disappoint either. The Mars bar was perfectly gooey, and the Reese's cups tasted even richer. The Twinkie with its tart raspberry sauce just surpassed the warm, melted chocolate of the candy bars. Plus I liked the combination of the crisp outer shell with the soft, creamy filling. Double YUM.

And then we were done. Well, we still had candy to munch on later, but as far as the adventure goes, we were done. I patted my happy tummy and said good-bye to five years of my life. But those were the Depends years anyway. Since we had so much fun, we decided that we were going to make it a recurring activity to try out all the great bakeries, candy stores, and sundry junk food places this great city has to offer. Six-year-old me is very excited about that.

Can I Keep Him?

While wandering around Philadelphia, I saw this very adorable Neopolitan Mastiff. You can't see it, but he has the prettiest blue eyes. (The lady holding him is a breeder. I also caught a glimpse of his sisters.) I really wanted to take him home with me. I refrained because 1) he is going to grow up to be bigger than my living room (Fang in the Harry Potter movies is the same breed) and 2) I do not want to have to pick up those poohs.

But he's sweet, huh?

I went to Philadelphia. I was just there for a couple of hours when I visited a roommate's home in south Jersey. We saw several historical things like Betsey Ross' house. Sadly, tickets to Independence Hall were sold out. Maybe next time.


The Liberty Bell. You know what: it's just a bell.


I love streets with old buildings.

A kitty door knocker

A lion door knocker

The first post office

George Washington is my neighbor; maybe I should have Ben Franklin be my next landlord.

You would think that with a sign like that, the Brooklyn Bridge wouldn't be any big deal.



I finally decided to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. It is probably the most fun tourist activity in the city.


The view of Manhattan coming from the bridge.

When someone comes to visit me we will walk the bridge--provided that it is not 90+ degrees or 45 minus degrees. What we will not do is eat at that one pizza place that everyone seems to like. No one should have to wait 45 minutes to get into a pizza restaurant when there are thousands of places in the city. Plus, my tummy doesn't like dairy anymore, so no pizza for me anyway.

Dealbreakers

Some people have said that since I am getting older (though I don't look it...) that I shouldn't be so picky about boys. No way! All it means is that I have less time to work through the quirks. So there are things that I take issue with. Therefore, in case you feel some strange, idiotic desire to set me up, please keep these in mind:

1. I don't do weird, rambling emails with bad punctuation.
2. I don't do twisted emails in foreign tongues.
3. I want to be asked on a date, not axed on a date.
4. emo-skinny jeans on boys leave nothing to the imagination. I would rather not know his legs are skinnier than my arms until after the wedding.
5. video game fanatics
6. self-righteous
7. the obvious, alcohol, cigarettes, drugs issues...
8. listening to music that I abhor.

I'm sure I could add to the list, but I don't want to look like a total snot. So tell me, what are your dealbreakers?

Who else gets to take the Amtrak to Girl's Camp?


The first night we had foil dinners. I was one of the lucky ones who ate dinner after letting it cook for 20 minutes. Some dinners took over two hours.



I felt that Juhly and I needed to document our time lost in the woods. We look happy despite the fact we had no clue where we were.

Backpacks are better!!!

A rare smile during an otherwise frustrating teaching moment.

This particular certification lesson was about nutrition. No Tita, Big Macs are not nutritious.

L-R: Dariana, Me, Aimee, and Jennifer. No clue who the girl in front was.

Hermana Soriano--a camp veteran. She goes every year.

My Girls L-R: Tita, Natasha, Caroline (in the sweatshirt)

L-R: Caroline (again), Lizzie (blond), Juhly, Vanessa, Aimee

L-R: Aimee, Jennifer, Dariana. In the background: Andrea, the Stake Camp Director

Very tired girls at the train station

Waiting for the train home.

Try to picture this:

There was one moment when I wished I had my camera ready. The girls found a bat hanging on the window frame of the lodge. One girl thought it would be fun to poke at it with a stick. The bat didn't enjoy it too much and took off. The girls screamed, but Tita, with a look of absolute horror on her face, took off running as fast as she could. I laughed. I couldn't help it. Was that mean?

Look Ma! No Ticks!

I have been back for camp for almost three weeks, and I thought I should write the highlights down before I suppress the horrors. No, it wasn't that bad, but I don't think I will up for sainthood any time soon. During the ups and downs of my four days at camp, I thought about the stake leaders I had when I was a girl. How did they do it? I had eight girls to chase around. I can't even begin to think how my stake leaders managed to look after 30 plus. I was exhausted after the first hour.

The narrative will probably take too long so here's a list of highlights and insights. Not in any particular order, really. Maybe chronologically.

1. When I was twelve I headed to camp in a van. I'm pretty sure it was a brown van--those were pretty popular in my ward. Girls in Manhattan went to camp on a train (two trains in fact). It is actually a great way to travel. All the girls got to sit in one car and get to know one another. During the trip I met a first-year named Christina. We got off to a great start because A) she liked my name (thanks to Grey's Anatomy) and B) she thought I was sixteen years old. Sadly, she was not in my group. The trip to camp was quieter than the trip home, as many were shy at first. On the way home, however, the girls sang all the camp songs they could think of. Leaders throughout the traincar suggested to oncoming passengers that they should probably sit elsewhere if they wanted a peaceful ride. I know I was glad when I stopped hearing yet another rousing rendition of "Rise and Shine" or "Big Bootie."

2. Including my co-leader and myself, my group consisted of ten girls: 1 Spanish only, 3 prefered Spanish (including my co-leader), 3 bilingual, and three english only. It's a good thing I speak Spanish, but I must say that translating back in forth was harder than I imagined. When one word escaped me, my brain threw out the corresponding French word (with a saucy Spanish accent, of course). Needless to say, I was a linguistic nightmare, and there were many times when I spoke the wrong language to the wrong people. Mental note: do not apply to the UN to be a translater.

3. New York campers were incredibly unprepared. Although the standard packing list was issued to every girl, not everyone came as prepared as they should have been. I recall the amount of things I took as a girl, and I remember adhering to the list religiously. I'm pretty sure I brought a mess kit to camp along with other necessary things like backpacks. Sure, living in the city does make it hard to obtain all camping gear, but the stake did a great job of filling the gaps. That being said, I was shocked when girls lined up for the hike without a backpack or good hiking shoes. (Converse sneakers are a good many things, but hiking shoes they are not!!) I had girls who were just going to carry their water bottles, lunch, and camp manual in their hands. I knew that would never work, so there was a lot of doubling up. I carried a lunch or two in my backpack, which didn't work out too well for those girls when I got lost on the hike.

4. I got lost on the hike. I had a couple of girls that were not quite ready for it. One girl, Tita, who lives at a "special school" and was not physically, mentally or emotionally ready for the hike. Thus she didn't make it very far. I expected it, and I was a little upset when some leaders thought she should continue even though she was visibly ill. So I left her with them to catch up with my group (who were being lead by another leader, don't worry I didn't let them wander aimlessly in the forest--although by that time I was ready to shove a couple of girls into the woods without a map). The next girl to struggle was Vanessa. I hope she doesn't read this blog (she doesn't even know it exists, actually) but she struggled because she was just plain lazy. It sounds mean, but it's the truth. She said she couldn't continue with the hike because her heart was beating faster and it was harder for her to breathe. I was a little annoyed by this time and I replied rather sarcastically that those symptoms usually occurred while exercising. After more of her whining I agreed to take her back down. It was amazing how her energy was then restored. On the way down I met up with another leader and left Vanessa with her so I could find the rest of my group. Funny thing, though, I never met up with them. I did, however, catch up to one of the youth leaders, Juhly, who also got separated. Together we headed up the mountainside.

The leader who was guiding our hike did mark the trail, but we obviously didn't see the markers and we headed strait onto the Appalachian trail. After about an hour we realized we were lost. We should have caught up with everyone else by that time. (City girls on hikes take lots of breaks.) Luckily, I taught the certification on what to do when lost in the woods the day before.

Juhly and I stayed calm, prayed, and shouted in sets of threes. Then we retraced our steps, and ran into another group of campers who pointed us in the right direction...or so they thought. We got lost again. Not wanting to hang out forever in the woods, we decided to find that one group of girls and join them on their hike. How awkward. Here I was, supposed to be a leader, and I lost my group. I hope that is no reflection of my leadership skills.

5. As mentioned in the title, I came home without ticks, or any bug bite for that matter. I thank my lucky stars for the super-strength bug repellent I procured for camp. I specifically chose the can with the most warning labels--always a smart move when buying bug spray. I was really concerned about ticks. Apparently girls in the past came home with ticks that gave them lyme disease. Being one of the many uninsured Americans, I prayed and sprayed so it wouldn't happen to me. The ticks were the scariest bugs at camp, in my opinion, but I saw way too many girls freak out over dragonflies and bumblebees. These girls live in a city infested with cockroaches and they freaked out over dragonflies and bumblebees.

6. I don't think the girls really cared about certification too much. So the fire skills I taught may never be put to use in an abandoned lot or dumpster in Harlem. I think the girls really just came to swim in the lake. Sure that's fun, if you like swimming (I've never been a fan). This year, though, the draw to the lake was enhanced by the addition of a teenaged boy life guard. He was the talk of camp. He wasn't an overly attractive boy; he was just a boy, and he got more attention than any teenage boy could want from a gaggle of giggling girls. Andrea (the Stake Camp Director) ingeniously confiscated any notes to the lifeguard in order to make sure her charges were not planning a late night rendez-vous. After reading them, she did give them to the lifeguard. One of the girls in my group, Caroline, developed a huge crush on the boy, and she wrote him a note. She didn't suggest to meet up with him, but she did use her Dr.Pepper Lip Smackers to decorate the letter with kisses. Poor girl. In a few years she is going to be really embarrased about that.

7. All the camp leaders were fabulous, an we had a stunning representation of singles and hispanic sisters. The hispanic sisters were so much fun; they reminded me of my mission in so many ways. A couple were actually from Ecuador too, so that added to the fun. My co-leader, Sonia Soriano was great. She kept a good watch on the girls and probably rolled her eyes at them more than me. I love her! I was also really glad that my friend Jessica Allred came to camp. I was amazed by her enthusiasm and wide knowledge of camp songs. She taught some new ones (I may never get "Princess Pat" out of my head) and she encouraged the Spanish sisters to teach some of their songs. Oh yes, I now know all the words to "La Cucaracha."

8. I love roasted marshmellows. I really love dutch oven peach cobbler. I now love roasted Starbursts. Try it; you'll love it. I ate a lot of junk food that week, and my intestines are still punishing me for the abuse.

9. I saw the most beautiful shooting star on the last night of camp. I was hoping to see at least one shooting star since A) there was no light pollution and I could actually see stars and B) I knew that we were at camp during the tail end of a meteor shower. At bedtime I was heading back to my tent, when this large star shot across the lower eastern portion of the horizon. I had never seen one so large, and close to the planet before. It continued to stun me as the tail turned green as it finished its descent and burned up in the atmosphere. A few of us were fortunate to catch a glimpse of that marvel. Vanessa, who I mentioned earlier, saw it, and it was probably the first shooting star she had ever seen. She was so happy about it.

10. The last night in the tent I decided to pop out my earplugs and bond with the girls one last time before heading home. The girls were really hyper, but that is pretty common on the last night of camp. Dariana and Aimee (pronounced I-may) were particularly giddy and wanted to stay up telling ghost stories. IF I were to have favorites, they were probably my favorite. The two girls were from Ecuador and they were very responsible, happily participated in everything, and did what I asked them to do. Plus did I mention they were from Ecuador? Aimee and her family actually only left Duran, Ecuador in February and she did not know a lot of English. In fact, she was my Spanish-only girl. She has the best Ecuadorian accent. I actually forgot about that Ecuadorian whine until she started branching out and talking more. Then I heard it: the way she said "hermana" with a whiney stress over the first two syllables screamed Ecuador. Then I started hearing it in my own brain as I formulated sentences in my head. The kicker was when I actually voiced it while asking one of the Ecuadorian sisters in the kitchen while asking for a new can opener. It was heavenly.

Oh yeah, back to the ghost stories. Dariana knew just about every Ecuadorian scary story imaginable. The scariest stories were about "duendes" - little ferries/trolls that haunted disobedient children. According to the stories, one of the "duendes" favorite tricks is to cut the hair off of little girls and then wear it as their own. Yeah, that's pretty creepy. Dariana was an excellent story teller. She lowered her voice appropriately and paused dramatically during tense moments. Aimee and Vanessa (also Ecuadorian, but it has been a long time since her family immigrated) were scared to death. This fear was further exacerbated by the 5th/6th years who shook the tent and yelled at the climax of one of her stories. Sonia didn't appreciate that, and we all got scolded. I really wish I knew about the "duendes" before camp started. It may have helped during chore time.

11. On the way home, I shared a taxi cab with Aimee and her sister Emily who do not live too far from me. For a while I totally forgot that I was in New York. I had two girls chattering away in Spanish while driving by hispanic businesses. The only thing that wasn't Spanish was the middle-eastern cab driver who had to get directions from me in Spanish because I couldn't quite remember English.

So that was camp. It was tough, and I hated being there more often than I care to admit, but for some reason I would totally go back next year.

Into the Woods

I just thought I would drop a quick note to let you all know that I will be going camping this week. Believe it or not, there are a few people out there that think that I have never been camping. I know I look all urban and posh, but oh yes, I know all about that tent stuff. See the above picture. I believe I am the girl with the blue and white shirt standing next to my dad. (Thanks to Brenda Sparrow for the photo!!)

Since I do not have a car, you may ask how I will get to the woods. Well, it may surprise you to know that there is a camp ground in Central Park. Kidding! There isn't one (for people with homes). I will actually take a train to a shuttle that will lead to church-owned campgrounds.

During this particular camping excursion I will be a Certification Leader for the young women from my church. Every year the church sends girls into the woods to teach them valuable skills like making bedrolls, cooking over a fire, and hunting snipes. Growing up in Washington State all those skills seemed very important because everyone camps and hikes there. In New York City, however, I will really strive to show girls how necessary it is to learn camping skills; I doubt they have many opportunities to head up to the woods. This year I will be teaching Harlem and Washington Heights girls how to sharpen knives and build a fire--skills that will be more than useful in starting a life of crime. To the people of New York: I am so sorry.

I'll post pictures when I get back! If I get back...

I think I have a new friend

About a week and a half ago, a friend from Spokane gave me a free ticket to see "The Fantasticks" an off-Broadway show playing at the very illustrious Snapple Theater. The show was...interesting. I was kind of expecting some big song and dance numbers and fun costumes, but it was a smaller production with eight cast members, no costume changes, and no fancy set. The story was kind of a love story with some cheesy songs, and it was really hard for me to concentrate because I had Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows in my lap. I really wanted to read! I must say that I didn't love any of the characters, but there was one that fascinated me a little. This guy was the first one on stage. He pranced around a bit at first, but for the most part he was a background character, almost like an extra prop. He didn't even sing or speak--his character's title was actually "The Mute". But he moved well, with cat-like precision. And despite the fact that he didn't have to wait for any speaking cues he watched the play unfold very intently. I will not lie...he was also kind of pretty.

By the end of the play the boy got his girl, and I was ready for the train ride to get back into my book. As I boarded the train, I noticed a very familiar face across from me--it was the kid from the play! I was somehow less interested in Harry Potter and more in seeing if I could make eye contact with the fellow. (Since I was sitting on the front row, he was bound to have noticed me.) Yeah, that didn't happen; he was sitting next to a friend, so back to the Deathly Hallows I went. Now that I am all brave from my Ted Allen meeting, I decided that I needed to mention the play before I leave the train. I was hoping for an opportune moment, but he kept chatting away to the kid next to him. I breathed a small sigh of relief that he didn't depart from the train before I had a chance to say something.

Fortunately for me, we got off on the same stop. Cool, huh? I had my chance. He was behind me just a bit, so I turned my head and said, "Great show tonight." Then he said, "I thought I recognized you from the audience!" I was so flattered. We chatted a bit; he wanted to know why I went to the play, etc. It was so cool, like a future celebrity sighting. I was excited to share this news with my roommates.

The story goes on. Sunday night I came home from some friends' house, and who was on my train? The kid from the play!! Sadly I didn't see him until we got off at our stop, but guess what, he still recognized me. This time we exchanged names (Nick). It is just too bad we don't use the same staircase at the subway station. That would be cooler. Oh, I am not finished. Tonight I came home from downtown and took the express train, meaning that I had to get off at another stop. As I rounded the corner to exit, I ran into Nick, and we talked a bit again before he headed downtown. I really look forward to taking the train now because I think I have a new friend. We chat. We exchange pleasantries. He told me that he went to the beach today. Who knows, maybe after a few more run-ins we will exchange phone numbers or mixed CDs or something. Either way, I think this is really cool.

Now before anyone gets excited about possible future "dates," let us all remember that he is a boy that sings and dances. On stage. But according to his myspace page he is straight. He is just a little young and wee (small).

No, I am not stalking

The planets must be aligned in my favor, because I have had a few notable celebrity sightings lately. These events are mildly common for those of us that live here, and sorry tourists, they generally don't hang around Times Square (unless they are appearing on Good Morning America) so chances are you won't get any. In the account below, I will tell you where I have seen celebrities, but this does not mean that you need to call out the paparazzi or start stalking for your own sightings. I don't want my blog turning into the next Perez Hilton site. I only share these stories because people outside the city have asked if I have seen anyone famous.

In this blog I believe that I have mentioned that I have seen John Leguizamo and of course my attempts at Snow Patrol meetings, but most sightings have been few and far between. I think I saw Olympia Dukakis on the 1 train platform, and I am convinced that I saw Adrian Grenier (The Devil Wears Prada) on the subway. But that was a while ago. This past month has been a flood of celebrity sightings. The first sighting I had was Ted Allen (Queer Eye for the Straight Guy) at a promotional thing for Top Chef. I gawked and texted my best friend the news. (She is usually the first to know about my sightings.) Then I saw him again at the Taste of Summer event at Lincoln Center (more on that below). Last week at a Nokia event in Washington Square I saw Claire Daines and Hugh Dancy (up and coming Brit actor). Oh no, it does not stop there. Monday I saw Caridee (America's Next Top Model winner) in the fashion district, of course, and Wednesday I saw Debra Messing in Union Square.

It was pretty exciting, and I have to admit, I stared. It is really hard not to stare. The first glance is used to make sure we are seeing who we think we are seeing...but we continue to look. So I have a theory. We usually see these folks on screens or stages, and we stare at the screens. Thus are brains are then programmed to stare at those people. It totally makes sense.

Of course seeing a celebrity is loads of fun, but meeting them is twice as nice. I have recounted my failed attempts to meet Gary Lightbody, and I am pleased to announce that I have met and talked to a celebrity! Sadly, it is not the Irish singer of that popular Scottish band, but it was my favorite cast member of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy - Ted Allen. I like him because he was witty, and well, I'm a foodie and I liked his food tips. (I have even used a couple.) In the above paragraphs I mentioned that I saw Ted Allen at the Taste of Summer event in Lincoln Center. The event showcased foods from some the best restaurants in the city. The food was so delicious!! Nokia sponsored the event, so I was there working--taking pictures, eating, etc. I did think that it would be cool the meet the gentleman, but I was pretty sure that was not going to happen (I remember to well my attempts to meet Gary.) Towards the end of the evening the crowd cleared and I saw Mr. Allen not too far from me. We made eye contact, and I smiled. I was then worried that I had food in my teeth. Then, he came over to talk to me! I am not lying or remembering this wrong. I am not that brave. I am pretty sure he was not hitting on me. I think he came over because 1) he is a really nice fellow and 2) I was wearing a Nokia T-shirt. He asked me about Nokia's sponsorship of the evening's event and I must say that considering my lack of information on the subject I did really superb job of answering his questions, and I was charming. I admit, I gushed a little about the show and the stellar shirt he was wearing with his seersucker suit. All in all, I felt that he was a very nice fellow. I wonder if he needs an assistant. And this experience will hopefully give me the confidence I need next time I am seven feet from a rock star I happen to like.

Miracle on 125th Street

On the 3rd day of my unemployment I began my freelance gig with the company that does events for Nokia. That day my main responsibility was to run errands and pick up necessary items for the event. My to do list took me to Staples (several times), Home Depot, Starbucks, American Apparel, and Kinkos. I really wanted to impress everyone, so I kept track of the money I spent, kept the receipts in one place-my wallet-and tried to be quick and efficient with my tasks. Things were going well until I was attempting to pay for some papers I had laminated. I searched my bag, and my wallet was nowhere to be found. I didn't take a bag with lots pockets, and although it was deep, there wasn't any place for my little black wallet to hide. Fortunately, I didn't have a lot of money in there, but it did contain my debit card, driver's license, and receipts.

I was pretty sure my pocket didn't get picked, and I figured that I must have either left it in a cab or dropped it somewhere in Columbus Circle (59th Street and Central Park West AVE). Fortunately I didn't keep any of the money my clients gave me to spend in there, but all the receipts tucked safely in that wallet were gone. I was embarrassed about that; I really wanted to impress them. I guess I must have anyway, because they have asked me to come back--not permanently, yet.

I quickly cancelled my debit card and ordered a new license. I was pretty certain I would never see it again...after all, I do live in New York City. If you think of the stereotypes of the city there would be no way I would ever see that wallet again. And I liked it too. It was small and convenient. (I hate having to schlep large wallets.) The worst part of the whole thing was that since it happened shortly after I lost my job, I felt that it just kicked me while I was down.

But as I have noticed this summer, I haven't stayed down for long. I mentioned that I have done quite a bit of freelance work. Last week I was incredibly busy running around delivering packages, and getting stuff for Nokia events. Even Saturday was busy. I had to do laundry, exercise, attend a bridal shower, pick up movie tickets at the Magic Johnson, give them to a friend (long story), pick up a package from the post office, go to the Travis concert, and write a talk for church. The last thing I wanted to do was go to the post office. I hate going there. Especially the one closest to my house, the clerks are slow, and all the bullet-proof glass creeps me out. I was kind of mad at the person who had the audacity to send me a certified letter. I figured it was probably the COBRA people sending me official you have no insurance papers.

While in line I noticed that the package notice was dated June 23rd, and I only had two more days to pick up my mail before it was sent back. The mail situation is seriously the most frustrating part of my residence. The lady downstairs gets all the mail and puts it by the front door at her convenience. We can go a couple of days before the mail arrives, plus magazines don't always arrive either. So I was doubly annoyed knowing that I could have stood in line a couple of weeks ago when I was less busy. I was in the post office for probably 30-40 minutes before I finally got my mail--a package from some stranger in Commack, NY. I wasn't quite sure if I should open the package. With emails, we aren't supposed to open attachments from strangers, but can we open packages? So I contemplated the dilemma while I ran yet another errand. On the way back home, I passed the police precinct, and decided to ask a cop that was standing outside. He said I had two options: open the package or throw it away. He offered to open it for me.

He opened it up and handed me the note inside that read: "I found this at 125th and Lennox..." and all of a sudden I knew what was in the package: my wallet with the cash, receipts, drivers license and debit card. How it got all the way to Harlem with everything still there is a huge mystery and miracle. I have to admit, I got a little emotional. I couldn't believe it was all there. So even in New York City there are good people who mail lost articles to their owners.

Maybe it is a good omen; now that I have found my wallet, I will get a new job soon, too. I do have an interview tomorrow....

A Super Long Vacation

If you read the Texas post, you will recall that I have no job. Well, I have no nine-to-six job. The day after I was let go, two former coworkers lined me up with freelance jobs. One job allows me to hang out with some very fabulous British folks and help out with their Nokia events. (Please hire me!) With the other job I get to pitch story ideas for LASIK in the Seattle area. I totally use my connections to get good conversations with the editors. Sadly, because of the time difference, I get to spend the afternoons at home making the calls instead exploring the city. My roommate Angie encourages me to get as far away from the house as possible when running errands. She has encouraged me to go to Fairway (72nd and Broadway) for groceries instead of the C-Town around the corner.

I make sure to exercise in the mornings, but in the afternoons to pass the time, I catch up on TV. I have watched the entire first and second seasons of both Veronica Mars and Grey's Anatomy. Clearly I need a full time job. Seriously.

And by the way, my name's Meredith. I have dark and twisty days. Why aren't Chris O'Donnell and Patrick Dempsey begging to date me?

Seriously.

Guess What I figured out! Enjoy the videos. I thought I edited out the second one, so there is nothing to see there sadly. Also, I have changed my comments setting so anyone can make a comment. Scroll down, there are a couple of new posts. Also, stay tuned because more are coming!

It's beginning to get to me from meredith and Vimeo.

It's Beginning to Get to Me from meredith and Vimeo.

Just Fran - Flowers in the Window from meredith and Vimeo.

This cow was one of the few willing to smile for the camera. She probably thought I was one those crazy yankees who had never seen a live animal before.


The bride and her mom putting centerpieces together at Texas A&M

It was a group project.

The Bride and Groom leaving the Houston Temple. I think Callie was the only one of the two who realized that I was taking a picture at that moment.

My Texas relatives

Dancing to their song...some country number. It was hard for my brit-rock/indie ears.

Doing the motions for the Texas A&M fight song.

City Mouse, Country Mouse

The first week in June I decided to get out of the city and head to College Station, Texas to have some fun in the country, and also to attend my cousin Callie's wedding. It was so nice to get away from the yellow taxi cabs, smelly subways, and uninteresting work. Plus I kinda have a crush on Texas. I'm not fond of the Lubbock area, but for the most part I really have a crush on the state. If it wasn't so blazing hot, Austin would be ranked higher on my places to live list. That is why I only have a crush on Texas. We tend to only crush on things we don't get to have. Who knows, maybe someday this crush will turn into full blown love.

My aunt and uncle live outside of College Station in a new development that helped me live the true meaning of vacation. I had no cell phone coverage, and due to the dial-up internet connection I couldn't check my email without wanting to hurt something...so I was unplugged from the world and didn't think about work at all. (The last time I took a "vacation" I worked during the majority of it.) Instead of monitoring the hundreds of google alerts that come into my inbox, I walked one of my aunt's dogs (Samantha, who became my best friend until I wouldn't let her share my bed. She totally hogged the bed), visited my grandma, baked goodies, and helped as much as I could with the wedding. I didn't do anything touristy, but I had a really great time.

College Station does not have that many tourist attractions. It has Texas A&M and the George H.W. Bush Presidential Library. The library was closed, but I did get to see part of the campus. My uncle is the head of the horticulture department, and we used one of the flower labs to put the flower arrangements together. I also saw a lot of cows. One of my cousins, Trevor, is a rancher of sorts. He is studying something to do with feeding cows at A&M (I am sure there is a more technical way of stating what he studies, however I don't recall asking what it was.) For some hands on experience, and reduced rent, he and his wife live in a 100 year old farm house while he looks after some cattle. One evening we took a trip out to see the cows (which weren't very friendly; they didn't let me touch them). I was pretty impressed with my cousin--he ropes cows and has a garden and eats the produce. That shouldn't be an amazing concept; it's just that I don't know that many people from my generation that has a garden and eats the produce.

The wedding was a lot of fun. The ceremony took place in Houston, and it was so hot and humid I thought I was going to melt away. I was wearing light clothes, and I really felt sorry for everyone in the tuxes and wedding dress. If I ever get married in Houston in the summer, I will probably have as few layers as possible. And I think a knee-lengthed dress will be an option. it would definitely be a draftier option. The reception was at the College Station Hilton with good food (i.e. steak--this is Texas), dancing and the Texas A&M fight song. Oh yes, I was told that the song is played at all Aggie functions...including weddings. My cousin, Lance, also informed me that the song is played on the radio as well. This a town that loves their university and its traditions.

I caught the bouquet. My relatives were pretty clear that I had to catch it, and despite my protesting, they enticed me to try to catch the bouquet. Part of the prize for winning was a gift card to Target. At first Callie just wanted to put a $5 Target gift card, but I said that $5 would not get me to the Bronx for my closest Target (the only Target in the world that I dislike as much as Wal-Mart). I did say that with a $5 iTunes card, I would probably give a few people a black eye. Then I had to explain the beauty of iTunes. I guess in a world of cars with radios, the genius of the MP3 player is not as important. My Uncle Tim put in a $20 Target card (and would not tell me how much), and I was dragged out to try my luck. I stood in the back, and Callie totally chucked the thing, and it landed on the floor a few steps away from me. So I got the Target card and a wishful promise of being the next bride. Either way it's a win-win situation.

The best part of the trip was seeing all of my cousin's on my dad's side of the family and meeting their spouses. I only have three cousins (Lance, Trevor and Callie), but since we haven't always lived near each other we have not been able to bond with them like we have with the cousins on my mom's side of the family. I particularly enjoyed noticing the family resemblances. Many people have thought that Callie and I looked like each other with our freckles and fair skin. Callie has always had red hair, and mine just gets red highlights. (We always liked it when people thought that we were sisters.) However, I noticed that from her engaglement photos that Callie looks a lot like our Grandma--they have the same eyes. I was surprised to see how much Trevor looks like my dad...except for the hairline and the nose. I think Lance takes after the other side of his family.

I was a little sad to leave Texas and my family down there. If I had only known that I was going to lose my job upon my return to New York, I would have stayed longer.