You are now free to move about the boroughs

A couple of months after I moved to NY, one of my girlfriends emailed me and asked how things were outside "the bubble", meaning my former home of Orange County. The OC gets a bad rap (which I think is a mostly unfair one) of being completely insular and lacking any sort of diversity and culture. (Ironically, it's the people who tend to live in giant houses behind big iron gates in Bel Air and Beverly Hills who tend to smugly comment on the lack of diversity in OC as they sip their lattes in the safe confines of a predominantly white, upper class neighbourhood. But I digress.)

I actually find NY to have many bubble characteristics of its own. New Yorkers are fiercely proud to be from here (or to simply BE here) and it's widely accepted among true New Yorkers that this city is the ONLY place to possibly BE in the world. And I have to admit that they do have a point to a certain extent. The energy in this city is palpable and there really is nowhere else like it.

But I've met quite a few Manhattan-ites who look at you blankly when you remark that you'd like to explore living in a borough other than Manhattan. I honestly think that some people believe you need a passport for Queens and at least a visa for Brooklyn. (And don't even MENTION New Jersey.)

I have been wanting to get off the island and explore other boroughs since I moved here and this afternoon was my first chance to really do that. (Driving through Queens to get to JFK or Laguardia does not count.) This afternoon, we piled in Nick and Reny's SUV and set off for Brooklyn to meet Dave and Mairim for dinner. First of all, this was momentous because it was the first time I have actually been in a passenger vehicle (other than a taxi or a town car) in Manhattan since I moved here. AND it was the first time I was over the Brooklyn Bridge. (And just for good measure, we came back across the Manhattan Bridge.)

Dave and Mairim live in Park Slope, an adorable area of Brooklyn which is nestled up against Prospect Park, a park about the same size as Central Park. The streets are lined with gorgeous old brownstones and huge, leafy trees. The neighbourhood was a great mix of semi-urban (I wouldn't call it "suburban") homes, chic little shops and inviting restaurants and bars. We walked through part of Prospect Park, ate at Miracle (the salmon was among the best I've had, here or anywhere) and then, of course, we stopped for ice cream.

Thank goodness my visa paperwork was in order -- I had no problem getting back across the border into Manhattan.

Dragons, Unicorns and Mermaids, Oh My!

Tonight, my friend Mike (some of you may remember Mike as my long-lost buddy from university whom I randomly ran into on 8th Avenue about a month after I moved to NY) invited me to an event at the American Museum of Natural History. The event was hosted by the Junior Council, a philanthropic group of young New Yorkers (aged 22 to 39) who support the museum in its mission to advance scientific research via various fundraising activities.

The Council often hosts specially arranged events that offer an intimate, behind-the-scenes view of various museum collections and exhibitions. Tonight, we got a private viewing of the new "Mythic Creatures" exhibit, along with a great introduction by the exhibit curator, Richard Ellis, and ironically, the Board of Trustees member who happened to introduce Mr. Ellis was none other than the CEO of my company!

The exhibit was really fascinating (both Mike and I remarked that it all felt very Harry Potter-ish) and I kept thinking how interesting it was to have an exhibit all about mythical beings within the museum of natural history, with all its scientific labs buzzing with activity behind the scenes. We learned about a number of new creatures that we'd never heard of before, such as the Bunyip (a bear-like creature), the Kraken (giant sea being who could toss the biggest ships with just the flick of a tentacle), and the Roc (a huge bird-like animal who could pick up elephants in its talons). As fellow Canadians, we were both disappointed that the "water creatures" section of the exhibit gave an obligatory nod to the Loch Ness Monster, but nary a glance to Ogopogo, the mysterious inhabitant of the Okanagan Lake in the interior of British Columbia.

We grabbed a bite to eat around the corner from the museum and for the second week in a row, I got caught in a major downpour trying to get home. Many more episodes like this and I will soon have webbed feet. (Maybe I'll turn into a mythic creature myself! Although webbed feet isn't exactly what I'd ask for as a key physical feature... a head full of snakes or the body of a horse would be far more dramatic.)

Bad Blogger

I know I've been a bit remiss in keeping my blog up to date in the last little bit. I'm a bad blogger. But I promise I'll reform. (Not in the Paris Hilton "I've found Jesus and now I know my path... or wait, maybe it's just that I've actually been sober for a few weeks now" kind of way, but I'm just saying that I will continue to update.... just bear with me and my crazy schedule.)

I've had back-to-back cross-country trips the last two weeks and looks like I have another coming up next week. Got some quality time with Special K this past weekend, including Angels/Pirates baseball game on Friday night (with PJ) and then the Foo Fighters/Police concert at Dodger Stadium on Saturday night (with PJ, Special K's sis and her friend). GREAT concert -- The Foo's are amazing in person and Sting still brings it. Aside from Sarah McLachlan, Sting is the only other artist I've seen live who sounds practically the same live as he does on CD.

Last week, Jason R was in town from LA, so I managed to catch up with him, his cousin and his niece for dinner at Isabella's on the Upper West Side. (And classic New York small world story -- his cousin knows a woman I work with. Of course she does.) I joined them a bit late because earlier that evening, we had a mini biz school reunion over at Nick and Reny's. Deb was in town (haven't seen her in years!) and Nigel and Felicia came over. And with impeccable timing, Jackie called Nick while we were all there and we all got to talk to her. I think we convinced her to leave SF behind for a weekend to come out and see us. (Sharon, if you're reading this, make sure you and Jackie get a trip on the calendar soon! We miss you!)

This entry's pics? PJ and Special K at the baseball game and Special K and yours truly in the limo on the way to the Police concert.

(Oh!!! I almost forgot to mention that a white Honda Accord hit us on the 101 fwy after the concert.... movie stunt drivers have nothin' on Jim, the limo driver, as he deftly maneuvered the stretch limo at high speeds to get close enough to the white Accord to get a license plate number. Go, Jim, go!!)

Hot town, summer in the city

Back of my neck IS getting dirty and gritty. How could it not when it's 95 degrees and like a sauna out there?? After winter, we had spring for about 32 minutes and then headed straight for 90 degrees and we have not looked back.

Seriously, it has been in the 80s and 90s for weeks now. The major consequences of this kind of summer weather? Well, here's a few:

- INSANE thunder storms that roll in in a matter of minutes and flood the streets in only minutes more. (Again, picture me walking home with more water IN my shoes than out.)

- Super curly hair that will not be tamed by even the most effective no-frizz serums. (I have not blow dried my hair for weeks now -- there is no point.)

- The less-than-perfect climate control in our office now has half of our floor sweltering in unbearable heat for the second half of the day because as the sun comes around in the afternoon, there is no stopping the heat from building up inside.

- People walking around the streets in far less clothes than they should be, simply because they are trying to keep cool.

- Every piece of clothing that you are wearing sticking to you within three minutes of exiting any building and stepping outside.

But don't get me wrong! I will take this interesting experiment of heat + humidity over the 10 degrees Fahrenheit days in February and March ANY time.

The Glam Squad

That's right, I have a Glam Squad. Ok, well, I had a Glam Squad. For two days (two LONG days), they primped me non-stop, changed my look almost a dozen times, gave me great hairstyling and make-up tips, and just generally turned the whole process into one laugh after another.

So, you've already met Joseph in the previous post.... although clearly gay, Joseph was always saying something provocative to me, insinuating more than would be appropriate from any straight man. Then there's Robin (make-up) who, as it turns out, used to be in online marketing before she turned "hollywood"... and finally, there's Damian, my main stylist and co-star in the video. He looks slightly like Kevin Kline, but with an edge... skinny handlebar moustache, perfectly waxed and twisted, giving him an air of permanent mischievousness. He wears heavy black eyeliner, a tattered black bandana coiled around his neck, gold Adidas runners, and a plaid suit with giant ink splatters as part of the actual pattern.

We are a motley crew of ragamuffins for sure, but they're the Glam Squad -- how can you not love 'em?

Just call me Blondie

For some odd reason, my best friend in high school used to call me "Blondie". I'd like to think that for 16 year olds, we had some sort of highly developed sense of irony, but honestly, I'm sure it probably started for some stupid reason. (She was actually blonde, so that made it that much funnier ... well, to us, anyway, but no one else really seemed to get it.) But now, I wonder if she had some acute and prescient view of the the future after all... and you will wonder, too when you take a gander at this photo.

Behold Blondie (no longer an imposter) and the uber-fabulous Joseph, one of the stylists from the LA shoot.

While many of the folks on set said things like "Wow, that's amazing!" or "That honey color is GREAT against your skin!" or "You look great in every hairstyle and every hair color!", it was Lysette, the tiny elfin wardrobe stylist, who cut straight to the chase as she was tucking and smoothing my smock, and remarked most accurately, "You look like a hooker."

Hello! My Name is Talent

Seriously, while I was on this shoot in LA, I should have been wearing one of those little stick-on name tags that they use at conferences the world over that cheerfully proclaim, "Hello! My Name is _______". And yes, contrary to popular belief, the blank should have been filled with "Talent". And no, this is not self-proclaimed (for once).

Every time I went somewhere... "Where's the talent?"..... Every time it was time to refresh my look.... "Talent to Makeup!".... "Talent to Wardrobe!".... when the food came at midday... "Did the talent eat lunch?".... and my very favorite, yelled by the guy missing a front tooth, "TALENT ON SET!!!" to which I replied "I'm right behind you" and nearly made him jump straight into the cameras. (Guess he didn't recognize me with the blonde hair.)

Even Geoff, the director, seemingly momentarily confused me for actual, bona fide "talent" because at one point he was directing me on set from behind the multi-camera apparatus and he said "ok, for this part, pull out all the stops and use your best method acting".... I just looked at him and starting laughing.... "Um, you picked me because I am a REAL woman, remember? I have no idea what you're even talking about." At that point, the whole crew cracked up... which may have had more to do with it being almost 1:00 am (and we'd been on set since 8:00 am) and less to do with my witty repartee with the director.

Priceless

Various wigs and hair extensions: $1500

Professional stylist with handlebar moustache: $2000

Advertiser's shampoo and conditioner: $6 per bottle

Bottled water (with straw, so professionally applied lipstick does not smudge): $2

Shari as a bleached blonde: Freaking priceless

Best Laid Plans

As luck would have it, by Thursday night, I was not fast asleep at my desk, nor was I anywhere near any sort of cocktail. (Darn!) I was actually still in California, working from Special K's kitchen (aka Shari's West Coast Office).

The video shoot went way overtime, causing me to miss not one, but TWO red eye flights back to NY on Wednesday night. Not keen to lose yet another whole work day by spending it in an aluminum tube 35,000 feet in the air, hurtling towards NY, I decided to work remotely all day Thursday and Friday and head back to the Apple on the weekend instead.

So, photo/video shoot details pictures to come early next week when I get back to my personal laptop.

Welcome to Hotel Pretentious -- Are You Sure You're Supposed to be Here?

I made it to LA mid-afternoon on Sunday and immediately remembered what I don't miss about Southern California as Boris, the recent immigrant from Uzbekistan, eased the black town car away from the airport and straight into snarled traffic. Ah yes, welcome to LA.

Over an hour later, we pulled into the front driveway of the Mondrian Hotel on Sunset. For those of you who don't know the Mondrian, it is one of those "unmarked" hotels (like the Hudson in NY; and in fact, they are both owned by the same group) where it is posivitively painful to be as hip as you need to be in order to grace the front entrance of such an establishment. (Puh-leaze. Get over yourself. It's just a hotel and not a very fancy one at that.)

I gave the check-in attendant my name and he looked up and said, "We don't have a reservation under that name." Then, somewhat condescendingly, he added, "Are you sure you're staying at The Mondrian?" (And trust me, the italics were his, not mine.)

Pushing my sunglasses up onto my head, I looked at him with one pointedly raised eyebrow. He got the message and muttered, "right, sorry" as he punched my confirmation number into the computer. After a small issue with an inadvertently canceled hotel reservation, I was safely installed in my 7th floor room (with city views, thank you very much).

Kate came in a couple of hours later and we took the "Loser Cruiser" (Kate's affectionate name for the PT Cruiser rental) over to Santa Monica to the Third Street Promenade and had dinner at good ol' stand-by, Monsoon.

Oh yeah, AND I spent AN HOUR on the phone with the hotel's tech support because their wireless internet connection wasn't working. At all. Now, thankfully, it looks like I have at least wedged myself into a small window where I am getting at least 2 - 3 yellow bars of reception. Hey, it's only the chicest hotel in LA -- I mean, people don't actually come here to work, so what's the big deal with this "internet" thingy anyway??? Somebody pass me my drink because I'm too busy admiring my reflection in your sunglasses.

LA Bound!

Whew, it's been a busy week! Monday was dinner with Nick, Reny and wee Ryan at Druids on 10th. Tuesday was drinks and dinner with Dave (in from LA) down in Little Italy. (Food was excellent; can't remember the name of the restaurant though. I think that's the thing about Little Italy -- the restaurants benefit from the foot traffic and do a good job of enticing people in off the sidewalks, but they all seem the same, so they have the disadvantage of not being able to build their own individual brands.) Wednesday was dinner at Vynl with Weyland (also in from LA), and Thursday night was sushi with Nick (yes, a different Nick), Ally and Stacy at Oda's cousin's in-law's place. Got all that?

Today was a day of wrapping up a few loose ends at work, running a few errands, buying a new pair of shoes (see how I slipped that in there so subtly??), and packing. Yes, packing.

Tomorrow morning, I am headed for LA. It's an unexpected trip for quite an unexpected reason. Remember the photo shoot from the end of May? Well, it turns out that the client and their agency now want me to shoot a couple of other things for them! So, I'm on a plane for Left Coast bright and early tomorrow morning. My schedule next week?

Monday -- consultation with stylist and wardrobe (WHAT world am I in??)

Tuesday -- all-day photo/video shoot

Wednesday -- all-day photo/video shoot

Wednesday night -- red eye back to NYC (and miss "Legally Blonde, The Musical" with my whole team - damn!)

Thursday -- back to work

Thursday at 7:00 pm -- will either have a cocktail in my hand at a team happy hour OR i will be flopped face first on my desk fast asleep.

Will try to blog from LA -- if I can't, I'm sure I'll have lots to report upon my return!

I :Heart: NY

Here are a few fun things that I'm loving about New York lately:

- The sudden appearance of numerous sidewalk/patio seating areas for many restaurants that have otherwise been cooped up within four walls all winter.

- Watching Central Park turn greener and greener, seemingly by the hour, as I regularly check in on it from the window of my office.

- The incredible array of colors in the spring as the flowers begin blooming. My faves so far are the lilacs (didn't have 'em in SoCal, but I used to worship them in Canada) and tulips (they are EVERYWHERE).

- Mary's Dairy ice cream.... oh... my.... god.

- Whole Foods and the fact that the shortest check-out line is at the sushi bar.

- Rooftop patios for drinks and appetizers at sunset.

- Black & White cookies (Seinfeld was right -- it's the perfect food harmony).

- Summer skirts, dresses and flip flops.

- Walking in the rain when it's still 75 degrees out.

Give me a MOMA-ent, please

Faced with a glorious Sunday ahead of me, I decided to finally head to the Museum Of Modern Art since I've not yet been since I moved to the Apple.

I was thrilled to see van Gogh's "The Starry Night" and Picasso's "Les Demoiselles d'Avignon", two pieces that irrefutably impacted the evolution of art in the twentieth century. Of course, I also loved the works by Monet, Cezanne, Gaugin, Seurat (I am an Impressionist groupie!!) and I definitely appreciated the paintings by Dali, Kandinsky, Liechtenstein and Warhol.

But I think the work that had the biggest impact on me was the four-storey high mural on two of the walls in MoMA's main atrium. The work is called "What Happened to Us?" (where the "Us" could mean "us", as in you and me, or it could mean the US, as in the United States), and it is a witty and clever compilation of images and messages, inspired by current events and issues.

The artist is Romanian Dan Perjovshci, who makes his drawings spontaneously in public museum spaces, allowing the public to look on. The images themselves are simple -- no more than line drawings done with a heavy Jiffy marker, but the message behind each of them is profound and brilliant. Apparently, Perjovshci worked on the mural for two weeks (during museum hours) before the official opening of the exhibit. (I wish I had known about THAT!!)

But enough of me trying to explain... you need to watch these two videos to get full appreciation of the work itself and the effort it took to complete it:



And here is part 2!

I have a weight problem

Do you know how much a bag of towels weighs? Yeah, I don't know either. Absorbency, softness, lasting color... yes, I can describe all that. But weight? Not a chance.

Having been away in "Canadia" for five days and having not done laundry for nearly two weeks, I had quite a pile of clothes filling up my hamper... not to mention that the towels and sheets needed a good refreshing, too. I haven't used my building's laundry service since the week I moved in (and a big garbage bag full of clothes came back in a shrink-wrapped package the size of a block of cheese), but I decided that I'd split the load and give them all the big bulky stuff (sheets and towels etc) and I'd take care of my own clothes. (I still haven't gotten over the fact that in order for a stranger to do ALL of my laundry, said stranger must touch and actually fold my skivvies. It's just bizarre when your underwear comes back to you all perfectly folded -- by someone else.)

I marched downstairs with a big bag of sheets and towels and plopped it down on the valet's counter. Turns out that there is a 10-pound minimum for laundry. 10 pounds. Do you know what that is in metric?

I have no idea what a bag of linens weighs, but I'm guessing it's nowhere near 10 pounds. I'm not sure how I'm ever going to have 10 pounds of laundry at once. Not even relinquishing my skivvies in the future will help this weight problem.

Jean Georges, C'est Magnifique!

Jean Georges has restored my faith in French restaurants in NYC. No, Jean Georges is not some new french friend or colleague of mine, it's actually a restaurant in the Trump International Hotel and Tower on Central Park West. And it was incroyable! I went there for lunch on Friday with one of our Publishers and we were treated to impeccable service, absolutely phenomenal cuisine and to top it all of, we sat on a charming terrace under an umbrella while the sun beat down around us. Not a bad way to wind down the week!

Check it out. (I had the tuna tartare and a salad with mesclun greens, avocado, jumbo shrimp (warm!) and the most unbelievable dressing I think I've ever had!)