Saturday, February 16, 2008

i'm a maniac, maniac on the floor

one of the best things about my roommate being out of town for the weekend (sorry, steph) is that i can hang around the apartment and be as sloth-like and unproductive as i want. even more than i usually am, even.

actually, now that i think about it, i did get a lot done today. i called citibank and contested a charge on my debit card, sold a bookcase on craigslist, reorganized our kitchen cabinets, changed the sheets on my bed, and picked up all my clothes off the floor.

but that productive streak ended circa 6pm when i sat down in front of the tv and discovered a few amazing things:

a) dirty dancing was playing on starz. i get made fun of by a guy at work for basically having seen no movies whatsoever, notably dirty dancing, the goonies, star wars, and back to the future 1, 2, and 3. so, in an effort to begin my cinematic education, i promptly "DVR-ed that shit." i simply cannot wait to ogle this hot piece of ass:


b) the N channel, which i thought only played degrassi re-runs, in fact now has an A-list line-up, including kenan and kel, fresh prince, dawson's creek, and, praise the lord, saved by the bell. i, like i assume most kids of my generation with cable did, ran home every day after school to watch this show on TBS while i ate my favorite snack of goldfish and a diet dr. pepper, and i guarantee i have seen each episode AT LEAST eight times. needless to say, i couldn't press record fast enough. in fact, i was so excited i set it to record all episodes, first-runs AND re-runs. i can only hope this doesn't bite me in the ass like it did with what not to wear. but while stacy and clinton's quips get kind of old after watching four episodes in a row, i don't think i will ever tire of bike shorts under denim skirts, stacy carosi, and of course, albert clifford slater's jheri curls.


p.s. for those of you who don't know, you can still catch some of the A.C. flavor by watching america's best dance crew, HANDS DOWN the awesomest show on the air right now not only for all the sick dance moves (no, seriously), but also for host mario lopez's wigger-tastic commentary. seriously. just watch it.

c) hands down the best discovery of all, though, is that TV land is having an "ohmigod, that's so '80s" movie weekend, running sixteen candles, the breakfast club, say anything, and flashdance back to back. the only one i didn't DVR was say anything, and that's only because i have that on DVD and have had most of it committed to heart since the 9th grade. i'm watching flashdance, yet another movie i haven't seen, as we speak, and i have to say, not once yet has it disappointed. this is obviously the trailblazing granddaddy of all modern dance movies -- center stage, save the last dance, and of course step up 2 the streets. the underdog with the seemingly unattainable dream of dancing like she's never danced before, the staid institution that favors training over heart, the supportive and kindly old grandmother figure with an unidentifiably foreign accent, and the tempestuous relationship with the ONLY person that REALLY believes in her. i mean, can you even remember a time when these plot lines weren't totally cliche? aka 1983? i know i can't, because i wasn't even born!

i should have known as soon as the credits started rolling and the first synthesized bars of "what a feeling" filtered out of the screen this was going to be a good night...

Thursday, February 14, 2008

rain, rain go away

as anyone who has spent more than 5 minutes with me can tell you, i HATE rain and snow. actually, to be accurate, i hate pretty much all kinds of inclement weather, including, but not limited to: rain, snow, mist, wind, excess heat, and especially -- oh, my god, ESPECIALLY -- humidity.

i suspect this has to do with the delicate internal heating and cooling mechanisms present within my body, which cause me to profusely sweat the second the temperature raises 1/5 of a degree, for which i blame my father and his poor genetics.

anyway, back to rain and snow. there is no occasion in my mind where rain or snow is pleasant, unless i have the ability to stay in my apartment until it's completely gone, wrapped up in a blanket, reading magazines, and drinking hot chocolate. but as we all know, it's always on a crappy weather day when you have to trek to work or to dinner in a neighborhood that requires taking three different trains with a friend you haven't seen in two years who you've already cancelled plans with four times, so in reality: i don't care how pretty the snow is when it first falls, i'm too old for snowball fights.
thanks to the mixed blessing that is global warming, this winter has been pretty mild and full of my favorite weather: cold but not too cold, no excessive precipitation, slightly windy on occasion. the kind of weather where the only things you need to keep warm are jeans, knee socks (my fave!), a coat, and maybe a really cute knit hat.

unfortunately, the looming inevitable happened yesterday in new york city: rain and snow, AT THE SAME TIME. not only did this trigger my anxiety because it created the perfect conditions for my worst fear to come to pass (that being busting ass on an ice-y sidewalk and/or subway steps), but it also brought out in full force one of my other fears: bad rain boots.
without further ado, a taste of the horrors i witnessed yesterday:


behold, the kitten heel rain boot, which i assumed was an urban myth, having only seen them in colorful neglected heaps in filene's basement. but no, i saw a pair ON A PERSON yesterday, along with other various incarnations of heeled and wedged rain boots, which all, as far as i could tell, caused their owners to shuffle uncomfortably down the sidewalks with a familiar look on their faces: please don't let me fall, please don't let me fall.

i am all for making concessions for fashion, but in my opinion, if there is ANY shoe you should buy for function, it is a rain boot. take this pair for example:

the hunter rain boot: my perfect inclement weather boot. they come all the way up to the knee, come in lots of fun colors (check them out at zappos), and you can tell they have a WICKED tread, to prevent unfortunate incidents like what happened to my roommate two days ago.


plus, you can buy matching (or contrasting, whichever your aesthetic preference) wellie socks!


how cool is that? not that i would buy them because they're $40 and i rock my own knee socks from sock dreams, but i support the concept nevertheless.

p.s. that color combination could totally be rocked at work because it matches our logo:


woot!

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

i've got mail

every day at work i receive a gift in my microsoft outlook: a daily recap of the biggest stories in the arts and theater world compiled by one thomas cott, who used to be our marketing consultant. this little electronic jewel is entitled "you've cott mail." (get it?)

anyway, today there are a few news stories i wish to bring to light, so i'm putting together my own you've cott mail. i wish my last name was gotti or something... you've gotti mail... hah.
numero uno

according to the new york observer, the juice's former agent, mike gilbert, plans to publish a book entitled how i helped o.j. get away with murder. i wonder what it's about?

the best part of this book deal? a portion of the proceeds will benefit the make-a-wish foundation.





numero dos

four impressionist paintings were stolen from a zurich museum this sunday by "three thieves in ski masks," one of which held museum workers at gunpoint while the other two took the paintings off the wall.
the paintings -- by cezanne, degas, monet, and van gogh -- are worth over $163 million.

first of all, the logistics of this "heist" confuse me. how did one guy with a gun hold all the museum workers at gunpoint? by "museum workers" do they mean "the 93-year-old night janitor"? didn't this museum have any kind of security system in place around these pieces? i mean, these are cezannes, not crappy children's artwork. (p.s. click that link. you won't regret it.) does switzerland even BELIEVE in security?

second of all, the new york sun wins the "don't even read the story; the headline basically IS the story" award of the day with their article "stolen art will be hard to sell." i'm not sure these thieves thought their plan through all the way before they stole paintings from four of pretty much the most famous painters in history. i hope they enjoy "boy in the red waistcoat" on the wall of their apartment, because no one's going to be ballsy enough to buy it.

numero tres
according to the new york observer, NYU has finally supported the greenwich village society for historical preservation's desire to grant its I.M. pei-designed silver towers apartment complex (left) landmark status.
this is good for a couple of reasons. as a proud NYU alumna, i am all in favor of anything that gets local whiners off our back. yes, i understand that many of our neighbors consider us a nuisance. i also understand that pretty much every college, from the largest cities to the smallest towns, has its detractors, whether it's for encroaching on historical land or for the frat boys that puke on their lawn every saturday night. i'm sure even notre dame has its haters, and god knows it's the ONLY reason to visit south bend.

anyway, cooperating with local community organizations is definitely a good thing. but for silver towers? are you kidding me? I.M. pei-I.M. schmei. i know he did the louvre and all, but these buildings look like they're made of cement legos. in an even odder decision, the preservation society is petitioning for the entire "super-block" to be protected under the landmark designation, which includes a morton williams supermarket and NYU's coles sports center (click for a visual), quite possibly one of the least inspired buildings ever constructed.
if you ask me, someone over at the GVSHP needs to get it together...

numero cuatro

in other news, the westminster dog show uncannily resembles best in show...

numero cinco
...and microsoft hasn't come any closer to its quest for world domination. mostly, i think, because google has cemented its place in history by creating the best e-mail service EVER, and because there will never come a day when "yahoo-ing yourself" will become a phrase in the cultural lexicon.

jane says

my very first college internship was at the now-defunct jane magazine. i am proud of this fact because no matter what naysaying readers nostalgic for the days of sassy may have said about the quality of the publication, i was always a fan. reading jane felt like i was reading my own writing (or speaking...or both). p.s. can we talk for one second about how janemag.com now links you to glamour's website? ew.

i first applied to fairchild for a marketing & promotions internship. i got called back for an interview the summer before my junior year, and being the naive whippersnapper i was, took 3 days off work and paid $500 out of pocket to fly from california back to new york for what basically amounted to an hour of hardcore sorority round robin/a cattle call, wherein 20-30 prospective interns had to race to interview with as many magazine reps as they could in the time allotted.

that interview still pops up in my nightmares every now and again for several reasons: a) i had never spent a summer in NYC before, so i was unprepared for the hades that is the subway system in 95-degree humidity. i got to the fairchild building in what i thought was pretty good shape, until i saw my friend lena, who tactfully suggested i go to the bathroom to check myself out. my pit stains, i kid you not, almost reached down to the bottom of my t-shirt. b) you might be wondering why i was wearing a t-shirt without, say, a blazer or some other type of professional accoutrement over it. that's because i was 20 years old, on my first interview, and i had no idea how to dress, much less for a business position. needless to say, i got some pretty disdainful looks. c) i was interviewing for a MARKETING internship. wtf was i thinking? this day was like 20 of those dreams where you get to class and you have no idea there's a midterm, except it was worse, because it was REAL.

i still don't know why i applied in the first place, or how i even got called back, and yet there i was in a room full of douchey-looking undergrads in business suits ready to talk about how their stern management classes had prepared them for an internship that would probably amount to pouring wine and handing out hors d'oeurves at WWD promotional parties.

somehow, i failed to convince anyone that my position as event coordinator of greek week had really prepared me for a career in magazine publishing, and i left new york sweaty and $500 none the richer.

luckily, when i came back to school that fall, an announcement was sent out over NYU's journalism listserv that jane was looking for an editorial intern who would not have to do any writing whatsoever. i'm pretty lazy, so this sounded pretty good to me. i went in for an interview, and i think i got the job because i walked into the office and nearly hyperventilated when i saw jeff johnson, katy mccoll, and esther haynes in the flesh.

these days, you would have to offer an exhorbitant amount of money to get me to the office wearing anything besides converse and a sweatshirt, but back then, i was determined to prove myself as a fashionista -- a fashionista who could walk in HEELS, no less -- so i showed up for my first day in dark jeans, a wraparound top, and turquoise pointy-toe pumps. (which, now that i think about it, i kind of miss. they broke during one of my lunch breaks at my next internship at niche media. more on that later. RIP turquoise pumps.) i imagined my first day like the waiting room at a really nice spa without the complimentary robes and slippers: i'd get a tour of the office, be placed at my personal cubicle. they'd make sure i had all the office supplies i needed, that i knew how to use the phone. then i could take the day to get used to my new surroundings before i was given an assignment.

instead, the photo editor came up to me before i'd put my bag down (i'd soon find out the intern cubicles were first-come first-serve, and there weren't always enough for all of us), gave me her camera phone, and told me to go out on the street and take 40-50 pictures of couples to illustrate jane's annual sex poll. NOW.

okay...

i confidently strode out to herald square, where i figured i'd hit the most pedestrian traffic. i soon found out that a) not a lot of couples take leisurely strolls down 34th street at 11:30am, and b) most people are skeptical about attaching their faces to an article calculating the percentage of jane readers who like to take it doggy style.

who knew?

i stood on the corner of 34th & 6th for six straight hours, minus a lunch break at sbarro, and at the end of it, i had only 10 pictures, mostly of non-english-speaking tourists who i don't think quite understood why i was photographing them but who signed the release anyway. i was near tears and terrified of returning to the office having failed my very first assignment, but i hobbled inside anyway, cursing those f***ing turquoise pumps, and upon seeing the pictures, the photo editor squealed in delight, exclaiming she'd sent two other interns out, and they'd both come back with nothing.

huh, i thought. maybe this won't be so bad after all.

in fact, the internship ended up tying as one of my favorites (granted, this ranking is out of 4 internships, but still). although i am quite happy with my work environment now, i still would have loved to work at jane full-time. it was the perfect mix of girls wearing skin-tight jeans and 4-inch heels, and girls wearing hoodies and sneakers. i got to have deliciously awkward elevator moments with people like LC from laguna beach. the staffers were all really nice and down-to-earth, unlike the plasticized manolo zombies from W who shared our bathroom. people were always zoning out with their headphones on, trying out products from the free table, and just generally chillin' like villains. plus i was soon in good graces with several of the editors because i was a transcribing and researching BEAST, and some of them would only let me do their transcriptions because i seemed to be the only one who knew how to recognize and correctly spell 'proenza schouler.'

unfortunately, i was an idiot and left jane after a semester to pursue an ad sales internship at niche media, purveyor of publications like gotham and LA confidential, which basically try to pass off 150 pages of pictures of rich people at parties as editorial content. i was swayed to go in this direction after attending a particularly convincing ad sales seminar at fairchild, during which the speaker was so dynamic and upbeat about her profession that i decided i, too, must follow this lucrative and fulfilling path.

i realized too late that it's the JOB of an ad sales rep to be dynamic and convincing, no matter how shitty the product. i ended up quitting niche media one month into the gig, after the publisher of gotham stormed into the office, verbally berated her staff for not being able to sell the inside front cover of the magazine, told them she was SICK and TIRED of doing their FUCKING job FOR them and that they'd better get their FUCKING ACT TOGETHER, and then broke down into tears, retreating into her office and slamming the door.

and that's when i decided i wasn't cut out for ad sales.

i missed jane right then, but i never quite reconnected with it. they didn't have any open positions for me after i left niche, and though i planned on returning once i got back from being abroad in london, my old boss had left by that point, and the guy that took her place didn't guarantee me a position.

everything works out for the best, i guess, because i ended up interning at the new victory instead, which lead to my current full-time job, and jane closed up shop soon thereafter, so i guess it's good that all my eggs weren't in one basket. nevertheless, i have fond memories of that magazine, and my ears always perk up whenever i see a byline of an editor i worked with there, or if i read anything about jane pratt (although i came on just after she'd left, i did talk to her once when i accidentally picked up the managing editor's extention -- needless to say, i was sharply berated).

such was the case last night, when i picked up a copy of lula i hadn't yet read, and inside was an interview with jane by jane's former executive editor, stephanie trong.

in the interview, jane reminisced about sassy, which featured headlines like "11 uses for an ex-boyfriend" instead of "10 outfits that will make him notice you," and cover shoots with kurt cobain and courtney love before it was cool to have musicians with blue hair/drug addicts front and center.

now, there are many things make me feel bad about myself, but none so much as jane pratt's life story. jane was approached to be sassy's editor-in-chief when she was "just barely 24," and she hired many of her best writers and editors simply from letters they wrote her, including karen catchpole, who was added to the staff when she was only 20.

these facts are hitting me particularly hard right now considering i am on the eve of my 23rd birthday and am tinkering away at my blog (readership: 3) on days when my boss is sick.

i should have my own magazine by now!

Friday, February 8, 2008

peace center, schmeace center

according to this recent new york times article, some 60-year-old hippie wacko who, in the grand tradition of one-name revolutionaries, calls himself simply DaVid is proposing to convert alcatraz island into a global peace center that looks a little something like this:


i'm all for peace, but i think it's pretty obvious this is the dumbest idea ever. mostly because i'm obsessed with creepy stuff such as ghosts, old sanitoriums, and prisons, and i haven't yet had the chance to visit alcatraz and get locked in a cell. so obviously, if they converted it into a peace center, that dream would be lost.

also, how could you tear down a locale that inspired one of the best TBS superstation movies ever??

Thursday, February 7, 2008

oh, sharon



i swear to god, my mother is the funniest person alive. after attending a kappa kappa gamma leadership academy in indiana (she bought a north face and special outdoors shoes from payless for the occasion), she decided to join facebook to keep in touch with all the "inspiring young kappas" she met, much to my 21-year-old brother's chagrin (i think her friend request is still sitting in his inbox).

when she joined, my friend aviva told me her profile made her laugh because you could imagine her sitting at the computer, wearing one pair of reading glasses with another pair absent-mindedly perched on her head, seriously debating over what her answers to the questions should be. for example:


Favorite TV Shows:
Dancing with the Stars, Big Love, Entourage, Grey's Anatomy, Oprah, Ellen, Boston Legal
Favorite Books:
Not a Reader

it doesn't end there. this morning i opened my gmail to an online survey from one sharon hendrix. the type of online survey we filled out in 7th grade. for posterity, i'm archiving it in my "Emails Worth Keeping" folder and pasting some choice excerpts here...

6. What do you usually have for breakfast? Green tea, oatmeal, or granola cereal lately a couple of prunes

7. What is your middle name? was Dean, now Wallingford

9. What is your favorite food at the moment? Always Mexican

10. What kind of car do you drive? 2001 White Expedition and Caroline's red Mustang

13. Favorite item of clothing? I love clothes especially from a discount store on sale

22. Favorite saying? They must be living in a hole

26. Any new and exciting news you'd like to share? I just went to the doc and my cholestral decrease 4 points yea!! 201 LDL went down 23 points that is the bad stuff

35. Do you wish on stars? YES!

51. When was the last time you cried? At church

59. How many years at your current job? Retired I volunteer

60. Favorite day of the week? every day I am retired

70. What is your favorite musical instrument? my new Yamaha piano [blogger's note: this is a keyboard with 5,000 songs programmed in so it plays itself and you can sing karaoke to it. she made us all sing christmas carols to it.]

Wednesday, February 6, 2008



i discovered zooey deschanel the singer (as opposed to zooey deschanel that quirky character actress with the disarmingly sardonic voice) whilst cruising the tags on indie exchange (hands down, i should note, the absolute BEST way to get free tunes: livejournal registration required).

unlike other famous people-turned-"musicians" who open their mouth and make you hope for nuclear warfare before you're subjected to their songs again (see: heidi montag), zooey's voice is actually very pleasing and blues-y (hey, i never claimed to be a music reviewer). plus, her photo shoots are killer -- like this one from jane (r.i.p.), every shot of which got ripped from the magazine and pasted into my scrapbook -- which guarantees an awesome insert.

her full album with m. ward is coming out soon, and as new york predicts, she might just become the world's first competent singing actor. i might even consider shelling out for the album...

on a completely unrelated note: mercedes-benz fashion week is upon us, and the conde nasties are out in full force: there was no end in sight to the salad line in cafe duke, and i've never seen so many jeans-tucked-into-boots/french-beret combos in all my life.