any change

Life is a glorious opportunity

-Audrey Hepburn

It's felt like a Hootie and the Blowfish, stare at the moon, walk a little slower kind of week. or whatever music you listen to or rituals you do that will take you away. walking through Union Square's sea of starving artists, creative geniuses, and tourists fumbling with dollar bills and clunky cameras smoothly led me into this mentality. one far from reality and into my own realm of thoughts and flow of creativity.

This week in the store, the interns did a photoshoot in some of the clothes for a page on the website. Adorned in a $1600 Stella McCartney dress and $600 Alexander Wang heels following a camera, although not phasing a single passer-by, I transformed into a rockstar. At 5'3'' I'm much too short to be a model. but rockstars have no physical limits.

I also helped assemble a customer approval order worth $68,000 for Mrs. Jessica Seinfeld, wife of Jerry as well as calmly greeted the occasional celebrity and high dollar consumer. Today another intern and I were given a $5,000 order to deliver on Central Park West. Entering the the first floor with sky high ceilings, we were directed to an elevator that took us to heaven. On the top floor, the whole top floor, dwelled the owner of the chicest apartment I've seen in the City. If that wasn't motivation to make it big in New York, I'm at a loss.

Another motivation met five girlfriends and I at a bar on a docked boat floating on the Hudson last night. This time it came in the form of a 6-foot, blackberry and AmEx wielding, free-spirited finance man and his co-workers (ladies and interns included) we all sat down as he bought us at least 7 pitchers of Sangria and dinner for everyone. He lectured us on love, life, and making it in New York. Judging by the multiple waterfront properties he owns, we figured he'd be a good source of insight. We ended the citylit evening with a round of shots and town cars to take us home, all on his tab naturally.

I seem to be catching some of New York's contagious confidence. I feel like I'm beginning to identify with who it is I really am, as cliche as that sounds. Life will never be without pain and frustration, but realizing who you are and having the courage to be that person makes it a whole lot easier.

So as the seagulls have turned into pigeons, the trolleys into open-top buses, the "yalls" into "yous", the bikini-clad beach blondes into androgynous brunette supermodels, and the sand-covered 57 on the seawall into two numbers glanced at by millions as they wait for their subway home, I'll still be the same person, the same confidence, independence, and spirit. Living, learning, and evolving in new york this summer has had more than something to do with that.

Hootie & the Blowfish |MTV Music

114th to Perry

best way to end a fabulous weekend? dinner and gelato with a friend and a solo evening walk to clear your head, see new street corners and mentally prepare yourself for the week ahead.

Camera and Ipod in tow, I casually strolled down Manhattan's west side and continually found myself fatefully walking in and out of romantic 6th avenue scenes. A woman watering the flowers on her terrace, the moonlight flirting with the city's Sunday evening crowd, and couples dipping into a shared cup of ice cream.

I finally made it to the Met today...breathtaking. I wanted to see the American Woman: Fashioning a National Identity exhibit which led me through the decades of American women's fashion and finally ended with a picture and video collage playing at the end that made me want to grab my red white and blue, show off my blonde locks and blue eyes and strut down the streets of New York listening to my american pop as my innate desire to be anything exotic vanished with yesterday's self-consciousness.

I also stumbled across the art of David Hockney in which I completely lost myself and the city around me in. particularly in his 'Caribbean Tea Time" folding screen.

This weekend's preceding events included 2 seats at citifield, 2 cupholders with a steady inflow of Miller light, and 2 amazing bands which comprised one of the most unforgettable concerts, and evenings for that matter. dave matthews and zac brown shared their talents with thousands of their fans on friday night. the scene looking down from section 522 will continue to amaze and intrigue me..being among the thousands of people who paid hundreds of dollars for an experience. those thousands of people mesmerized and hanging on to every note, every lyric coming from one man and his guitar, center stage. One of the best experiences of my life.

The next night, Dave serenaded again, this time from the speakers surrounding my dorm room. As he whispered the sweet sounds of Satellite while i showered, colored in my eyelids and powdered on my blush to get ready for my early birthday dinner, I indulged in a reminiscence of one of my most prominent memories of my parents, pre-divorce. I'm sitting at the kitchen bar with my younger brother and older sister, dining on chicken nuggets and mac n' cheese circa 1995, as my mom curled her lashes and spritzed her favorite perfume and my dad straightening his tie for date night. Satellite, Crash, and Two Step provided the soundtrack for the last half hour before our babysitter arrived.

15 years later, it's now my date night. we catch a cab to Perry st. and sit across from the hudson as i'm spoiled with a chardonnay, delicious three course meal and a little teal box, Tiffany & Co. inside, a perfect fitting, thick banded, concave ring. We followed dinner up with a stroll towards a lit up city sky line and twinkling lights along the hudson with the moon directing the whole scene.

Now, I'm commencing my last three weeks of my internship and I'm moving into the store from the web office. I'm thrilled to meet the Balenciaga and Stella McCartney wearing shoppers and see more of how this world I'm in is run.

Hope you have a wonderful week, i'll end with my favorite song played at Dave's concert this weekend..

Havana Daydreamin

I ended a nearly perfect weekend napping on the beach of Stone Harbor, New Jersey as the sun traced tan lines around my rings and bikini and the sweet sounds of "A Pirate looks at Forty" and "Castles made of Sand" cleared my mind in a mid-day serenade.

Six of us spent our Friday and Saturday nights sharing stories and laughs over homemade concoctions and occasionally getting lost in our own thoughts while watching smoke escape our mouths and float towards the most starlit sky I'd ever seen.

Saturday, between skipping over puddles and ducking under a leopard print umbrella in a fruitless search for sundresses, the three girls existed in a scene one black-and-white background short of a vintage photograph. When greeted with raindrops upon our beach arrival, we sought shelter under the local lifeguard pavilion/rain escape where we found short red shorts belonging to concerned faces peering through the rain towards the ruthless crashing waves.

Just being at a beach again felt like I was home. My toes flirting with the incoming tide and the lingering grains of sand attached to my now sun kissed skin. It was the perfect little escape from the neon lights and stumbling interns in their LBDs which usually paints a weekend night in the city. On my way to work this morning, my coffee seemed to taste a little better, the sun shined a little brighter and the flowers smelt a little sweeter as I felt a little closer to my new home.

I'll end with a quote I stumbled upon in a book of short stories by F. Scott Fitzgerald :

"All life is just a progression toward, and then a recession from, one phrase -- 'I love you.'"

Who's that lady...

One thing I completely love about New Yorkers is there untouchable, unwavering confidence. They've always got somewhere to be, someone to see, or something to do. Always busy. Always important. I've found this to hold true from the attitude of the cat-calling trash-men to the blank stares behind the suits and blackberry conversations of the Wall Street men. The fashion filled streets of Soho are no exception. I walk mesmerized by the struts and silhouettes of New York's most fashionable, most likely feeding their egos by giving them the attention they want, and deserve for that matter.

These are the women I've been fighting with packaging tape and wielding a censor gun for, to send them their $1,000 Lanvin necklaces and $800 Alexander Wang bags. Oh a day in the life of the intern. One day I plan to be on the receiving end of orders like these.

As for my evening life, in a perfect Thursday night outing, a bunch of us took over the front of the stage at the Canal Room and danced, jumped, and sang the night away. We ventured to the dimly lit hideaway filled with twenty-somethings to explore what the open bar had to offer and enjoy a band I had been told is a must-see: Rubix Kube, an 80's tribute band. Phenomenal. I had no idea how much I loved the 80's...

here's a little something that's been stuck in my head all day and might help you get in the weekend mode..Happy Friday!

First post...

"Courage is acting when there is fear, not waiting until there isn't any"

- Walter Anderson

I started for my internship on Greene Street in Soho from my unair-conditioned dorm room on East 10th for the first time on June 7, twirling my string of pearls, head down, walking swiftly, trying to stay out of everyone's way in my new black ballet flats...

It didn't take but a week for me to become the overconfident intern strutting down Broadway with the sounds of La Roux and energy of Starbucks motivating me to step deliberately, 5 inches at a time.

I've enjoyed casual drinks on rooftops, meeting my fellow future kings and queens of The City at local bars and soaked up the serenity of the Hudson river on early morning runs. I can say that I've fallen in love with this place.

this blog is for me to share music, pictures, discoveries, and stories from my new home, New York City...

My first song to share isn't new but it's definitely helped me relax in this sleepless city... listen to simply drift away

In The Waiting Line by Zero 7

a peaceful picture to enjoy as well..