Skylines, Subways and Press Releases

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March 26, 2010

Serenity, Sin and Scenarios of Stupidity Scattered In Between

(NEW YORK, NY)— Sleek black business suits and heels have turned into sweat-perspiring jogging suits and tennis shoes. From Starbucks coffee cups and cell phones to water bottles and iPod headsets. The concrete jungle, famously consisting of a ridiculous abundance of steel skyscrapers, has morphed into a serene landscape of enormous Maple, Elm and Cedar trees. I’m sitting on a beige-stone bridge that peacefully looks over a small pond with emerald green ducks graciously floating on its surface.

Besides analyzing people walking by and annoyingly slapping bugs away from my face, Central Park is one of the most interesting places to experience if you desperately need to abandon yourself from the city. It’s almost like I don’t even live in NYC anymore, it reminds me of Texas: the huge trees and ample amounts of open land. My daydreams of Southern bliss and Texas bluebonnets came to an arrest when I kept finding several hot dog vendors, Starbucks stands, random groups of Russians, Germans and Dominicans waiting in line to buy a chili hot dog and homeless people singing Acapella- for a small monetary reward of course.  I decide to be like the cool foreign kids and order one of my first NYC hot dogs.  After eating it, I realize that I should have adhered to my rules of strict hygienics when purchasing such culinary delicacies. In retrospect, it is never a good idea to purchase processed meat from a smelly Asian man whose grill is located directly underneath two rapidly shedding trees that house squirrels and annoying grey pigeons. I am convinced that I have about 5 hours until my body is 94% contaminated with e.coli and mad cow disease.

As I type out this blog I briefly mentioned sitting on top of a bridge. I can’t help but notice this short, stocky homeless lady wearing a beret sitting next to me. She’s immersed in her boxes, blankets and three suitcases- you know, the cool ones that roll and stuff. As I nonchalantly stare at her (thinking about what she must be like, what her life must have BEEN like) I notice that she is most definitely drinking Starbucks coffee, eating a deliciously large bagel sprinkled with sesame seeds and crème cheese. Not to mention, that peering out through her stacks of blankets is a Louis Vuitton suitcase. I find it somewhat awkward that a homeless lady of low economic stature has better travel accessories and food than me.

The past couple of weeks have been full of serenity and sin. Penny Platinum and Cherry Sourcame up to visit me from Dallas and I am telling you -their reappearance in my life was MUCH needed.  Penny Platinum came up with her mom (Mama Platinum) to spend Spring Break together in NYC while Penny did interviews for some fashion internships. Cherry Sour’s excuse to come up was to wreak havoc, buy ridiculously cute clothes and make a cute little mess in my apartment. We wined, dined and drank unlimited glasses of champagne at restaurants and happy hours across the city. Morals were shattered, hearts were broken, ethical decision making seemed obsolete, and our hair was teased to such an accurate measure- I’m pretty sure we made girls with flat lifeless hair whimper and cry at the very site of our skyrocketing levels of PH balance.

Mama Platinum was a complete doll and reminded me of my mother back in Texas. Penny, Mama P and I ate glamorous dinners everyday-which had been a complete rarity for me considering the dwindling amount of money in my bank account. The most incredible experience was when Mama Platinum decided to pay for Penny and I to go on a boat ride that circled the entire city of Manhattan. Stepping away from the cluster of buildings, the pandemonium of people and the constant blaring alarms of taxis, ambulances, police cars and fire trucks really put everything in perspective. It was an oxymoron of sorts. Here we were on this peaceful boat ride going 5 MPH looking directly at a city whose lifestyle goes at about 95 MPH. In those 3 hours of being on that boat and watching tiny little people and cars from a distance, I constructed a new theory about New York.  No one moves here to suffer through the $1800 a month rent, $2.90 priced apples, and $90 monthly-metro card just to chill. They come to the nucleus of activity, the epicenter of fashion, journalism, broadcast media, PR, music, business and investing in order to get shit done. The hyper-independence mentality finally makes sense: sometimes people are so fixated with their lives because they come from all over the world to pursue ambitions, to reach a certain level of success that is unheard of in any other city, to make something happen and to have that “something,” be huge. Of course my moments of contemplation and philosophical analysis would come to a standstill every time Penny Platinum insisted we have another Budweiser. 3 hours and 6 beers later, Penny and I decided to pay a wonderful homage to Texas and Lady Liberty. Cheers to Texas hair, Texas hearts and cheers to all that is glamorous and kind. Here is to you, Texas.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v422/ely10016/CheerTexasNYC.jpg?t=1282520274

# Out of The Water and Back On Land:

It’s frustrating that job searching is such a waiting game. I still have a couple leads that could turn into something great I just have to wait for contacts to get back to me. I will say though, I find it very VIP and entertaining that these journalists nonchalantly speak of rescheduling an interview because they have to go to Milan for Fashion Week or because they are interviewing Alicia Keys and Beyonce after their appearance at Madison Square Garden. Ugh, that NEEDS to be me someday. The day will come where I will wake up and have to cancel my appearance on Good Morning America because I am scheduled to have breakfast with Karl Lagerfeld and sip on mimosas at brunch with Slash and RuPaul. RuPaul and I will be laughing as we discuss how brilliantly shiny my Louboutin pumps are and Slash –who will be my rocknroll boyfriend by then- will play Lady Ru and I an acoustic set of “Sweet Child O’ Mine” and “November Rain” on his Gibson Les Paul. When this day comes…you better believe I will blog up a verbal STORM on this Tumblr.

In about a week-and-a-half I am meeting with a writer who used to write for Vogue, GQ and Harper’s Bazaar. She’s one of the few journalists who has gotten back to me and I am so thrilled to actually get to speak with her and seek advice. 

A Couple Random Scenarios of Stupidity:

1.     After hours of craving popcorn I decide to walk to the nearest Duane Rheade (which is the NYC version of CVS) and buy a box of popcorn. As I run back to my building drooling and salivating, I arrive to my apartment only to find out that I don’t even have a microwave. Feel free to defriend me off Facebook at any time

2.    I almost mutilated my hand by washing dishes a couple weeks ago. I was washing a knife and as I rubbed it the knife cut right through the middle of my thumb…and this cut was deep, real deep. I really thought I was going to need stitches. So I’m running down the hall like a drama queen to ask the front desk if they have any band-aids. It took two doormen, two maintenance guys and my landlord to clean my thumb, pour peroxide in it, and bandage me up. You may think I’m inept, BUT through medical knowledge that my mom infused in me when I was young, I knew to apply pressure, keep it elevated and pour lemon directly on top of the wound to constrict the skin and keep the wound from ripping any more than it’s going to. After 40 minutes of freakishly bleeding, I decide to take my nightmare downstairs and let my doormen deal with it.  I am now known as NOT only the “loud girl from Texas,” but as the “ You know…that girl from the 18^th floor with the bleeding thumb.” I tend to spread a positive reputation everywhere I go…

My mom mailed me an envelope full of magazine clippings: pictures of oranges, bananas, apples, spinach and sandwiches. Underneath this mess of an arts and crafts project, there was a note: “Baby, here is your grocery list. I know you like to make things fun so I thought I would make you a grocery list with pictures.”  UMMMMM. I feel like I would go straight to hell if I made any fun of this. Too cute.

I feel that I am quickly acclimating myself to this city, I am finally understanding the subway system but still fail to understand the homeless people that stay there. I am making good friends. Whether it’s Captain Belle and I glamorously experimenting with cheap happy hours and brunch specials across Manhattan, or dining with new friends.

(PS: PH2H): It most definitely is the hardest thing you can do: to leave everything you knew, the comfort of your good friends, your family, your home and abruptly land in a city where no one cares about you unless you force them to. That’s the trick to anything, whether it’s making friends or professionally networking.

Prove that you’re irreplaceable; through action, force people and businesses to deem you as indispensable- because you are. 

Shut your insecurities up. Everyone gets worried and no one wants to fail. Everyone is feeling what you’re feeling or at some point has felt the same insecurities you have. It’s your job (and mine) to own up to what your worth, step outside, don’t stop until you get whats yours and completely kill it in whatever you want to do. Well, don’t stop until you’re pushing 110. Then, I would say to just go to Jamaica and start partying because your time has definitely passed.

Don’t hesitate, don’t be worried, and don’t be upset no matter how much you want to throw your hands up and stop. If ever you find yourself throwing your hands up- make yourself a vodka cranberry, elegantly bring your hands down, get them manicured and start pushing and shoving for your ambitions all over again.

Saving Her Manicure For Another Day in NYC,

-erika

Listening to: “Pressed Against the Sky” by the Toadies

Feeling:  my stomach turning…due to those NASTY tacos I bought for a $2 down the street. Such a dismal and pathetic excuse for Mexican food.

Missing: good friends and their birthdays back in Texas. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BAYBEEEZ: the innately adorable, Ms. Beatle Bailey and the forever ridiculous, Mr. Sasha Mess

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