What do we want? Fair Wages. When do we want it? Now!

Even striking isn’t done the same here as it is in St. Louis. Obviously there are distance restrictions that dictate how far from an entrance someone can be when protesting or striking. In a city like New York, a far distance from the facility entrance could very possibly be closer to your bedroom window or more specifically, mine.

I’ve never been a union worker, never been on strike – I did however cross a picket line to go to work at a hospital when the nurses were striking (they were OK with it, I assure you). I can’t sympathize with the PM Construction team from Beth Israel Medical Center and after their behavior during the month of August; I can’t empathize with them either. While I have no idea what it’s like to strike, I can appreciate the desire to be paid what the rest of the night construction crews at other hospitals are getting paid. With that being said, is it really necessary for me to wake up 3 times a week to 30 men shouting and blowing whistles for 3 minute intervals? I’d stop and ask you the following questions but I’m afraid with your ear plugs in your ears, you won’t hear me. Perhaps you can scrounge up a pair of those for me after you address my following concerns. Are you fighting me? Do you really think the controller up in the Beth Israel building can hear your shenanigans once he passes you to get into his cushy office? He can’t. I’m willing to guarantee this – I will bet you a years worth of uninterrupted sleep on this. You might wonder how I know this; I know this because I was a witness to 4 of the 7 years of the ongoing Congress Hotel strike. They managed to stay off of my hit list by quietly pacing back and forth in front of the hotel in protest. Even Obama can’t help them, he’s protested twice with him, America, that should have been our first indication he wasn’t the man for the job but that’s a topic for another day. This is about Beth Israel and their PM construction crew.

If you want my advice, perhaps there are other methods you can use to drive home your point. The shiny black coffin strategically placed by your team near the entrance of the hospital has probably proven effective, no?

Fall in Love with New York -- in the movies...

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – I have high expectations for fall in New York transforming my life from mundane to a replica of the movie, ‘You’ve Got Mail’ – complete with cashmere turtle necks, sweater sets and tights. I know this fantasy is unrealistic, I’m going to feel slightly let down when October 1st rolls around and I don’t wake up in a brownstone on the Upper West Side expertly appointed with shabby chic furnishings and Laura Ashley fabrics. I’m still going to go to sleep each night and hope but, while I do that, I’ll be watching other movies set in New York, don’t expect a post begging me to wake up on the set of, “The Taking of Pelham 123”…

[New York Movies I’m going to Love]

• Home Alone 2: Lost in New York
• Arthur – I can’t wait for the remake starring Jennifer Garner and Russell Brand
• Ghost
• Curly Sue
• When Harry Met Sally
• StepMom
• Unfaithful
• Kate and Leopold
• Big
• Cruel Intentions
• Miracle on 34th St.
• Sex and the City
• Eloise
• Serendipity
• Breakfast at Tiffany’s
• Maid in Manhattan – Gotta love a movie that includes New York and Weimaraners
• Manhattan
• Two Weeks Notice
• As Good As It Gets
• Elf
• Definitely, Maybe
• Autumn in New York
• P.S. I love you
• Bride Wars
• The Devil Wears Prada
  

[Shows I will Love]

• Will and Grace
• Mad About You
• Mad Men
• Seinfeld

I don't have a New York I.D. but I've yelled at a stranger. I'm legit.

I’ve gotten past the first month, first job and almost through my first summer in New York. It’s been tough at times but I now officially consider myself a New Yorker, I can point to an apartment and say, “See that gray building? That was my first apartment here in New York.” I noticed when I moved here; everyone likes to talk about where they’ve lived, where their first apartment was and how they decided where they live now. I’m officially a part of that club!

Riding in a cab past 26th st. on my first day as a permanent employee of Agency Rx, I excitedly pointed out that Grey brownstone I called home for my first 6th months to the new, Vice President of Account planning who pointed out almost immediately the first apartment he lived in as a married man. It was also the apartment where his first baby came home to and it was also his last home in Manhattan. We share more than a cab that day, on our way to the midtown office of CDM, two strangers from 2 different generations and 2 different rungs on the corporate ladder were able to share one common thread and one moment of reminiscence. Obviously, our career paths were already and would remain similar but that’s not so much personal, what we shared in the cab was personal and an cherished detail of each of our lives. Both apartments marked beginnings and in a way ends.

Driving past 244 e. 26th st, I was reminded of the first day I walked up those stairs to check out the place. It was February and the city was being drowned with freezing rain. It was my second week in the hotel and I needed to get out. I trudged up 2nd avenue from a 6th floor walk up in the East Village that was absolutely not where I was going to live all the way past Stuy Town (pronounced Sty) Park almost a mile in this freezing shower, my umbrella quit working about a half a mile earlier and I was a wreck. The tips of my hair were icicles and I remember thinking to myself, if this girl is even half normal and close to my age, I’m moving in tomorrow. I walked in, looked at the room. It was small and furnished with a twin bed and a floor lamp, the apartment itself was a tad on the un kempt side – there were cracks I was constantly terrified roaches would crawl out of and I spent most nights there thinking bugs were crawling on me but I took one look at Irene who was laid back with a relaxed demeanor and I just blurted out, I’ll be your room mate if you want to be mine – we agreed and 2 days later, I moved in.

It was a great first apartment and not nearly as scary as I just described it – honestly I only encountered a few bugs and only one crawling on me. What, it builds character and will give me bargaining chips just in case I ever end up having kids!

And the Asian Saves the Day ...

I consider myself fortunate to not have to be one of the tourists who look at their maps and try to navigate the city in 4 days or less missing many of the great and interesting sights. New York is there for my taking! I can spend an entire day getting lost on just one street or one avenue walking in and out of all the little shops. I do find myself envious of those time crunched tourist in a way. They have the vim and vigor I lack. Just like anywhere you come to call home, you have those Saturday’s where you wake up, look out the window and think, “Leave me alone, today I’ll stay under the covers and watch ABC Family, eat a 3 Musketeers Bar in bed and stalk the same 30 people on facebook.” That was me just 3 short hours ago. After moving to a new apartment and interviewing for a permanent job all in the same week, walking around in 90 degree weather was not written after “Eat 3 Musketeers bar in bed” on my to do list, which, was already crossed off. It was time to get out of bed and do something.

The first 30 minutes of my neighborhood exploring made me realize, if we had a couch, today would be the first of many where I would declare to hate it. It was hot, none of the eateries I was coming across appeared to serve fountain diet coke and I felt like my entire body was built of lead. First, I walked south 4 blocks then west 2 blocks, then south again where I found a store called “Surprise! Surprise!” I hate surprises. More than surprises though, I hate not knowing what the surprise in question is so of course, I went in. “Surprise! Surprise!” is literally a store filled with overpriced crap during my visit I noticed a selection of lamps, none of which were the same, already built cheap furniture and a huge selection of glassware. As I walked around this ridiculous store, I was hardly surprised to find most of the merchandise for sale appeared to have fallen off a truck headed to a respectable retail location that doesn’t have a hand painted sign. Browsing around this store just filled me with more hate and confirmed the fact that my original plan of candy, bed and facebook was the winner. However, the thought of backtracking unhappily to my apartment and climbing the 3 flights of hot stairs only to shower again and wait for my room to cool back down seemed more daunting than continuing to walk south and further explore the area. So, I continued to walk south …

I stumbled into Cooper’s Square which I declared on the phone with my brother to be stupid and vacant except for a bar called, “The Asian Pub”. I walked past “The Asian Pub” 3 times thinking about how much of an oxymoron this was. On my 3rd walk by I noticed they had a fantastic little garden draped in grape vines, a fountain in the center and a charming brick patio. The enchanting patio and the fact that they had $3 Lychee martinis was enough to coax me inside. I saw ‘day saver’ written all over the little Asian Grandmas face that greeted me when I walked in. Even though Saturday’s are not their day to serve brunch Grandma agreed to make an omelet for me, my bill turned out to be $10 - for brunch and 2 martinis, the tables around me offered excellent eaves dropping and the patio offered an escape for all my early morning hatred. Thanks to the Asian Pub for turning my day around!

My hearty brunch served up by the Asian grandma!

Chips and Salsa at an Asian Pub ...

A lot can happen in a year ...

It’s the end of a year, a year full of life changing chances, choices and experiences. Just one year ago, I started my internship with Two West in Kansas City. During my first 3 years of post college life I’ve looked back on my choices and thought, “if only I would have stuck that unpaid internship out!” or, “If I wouldn’t have changed my direction from agency to client side.” You can sit there and ask “what if” for days but it’s never going to accomplish anything and that is exactly what I learned in April of 2009 sitting in my gross office at Augusta Winery. That was not what I wanted, what I wanted was the hip cubicle in a trendy office with creatives that had blenders and microwaves set up at their desk and on the last week of June that is what I got. There weren’t any blenders or microwaves at Two West but I did have a window and exposed brick making my cubicle ultra trendy! Did I expect it would bring me to New York? Not a chance but I knew Two West had something huge in store for me – so I took a chance, packed my car and went west.

Today, one year later, I’m moving out of my first New York apartment and I can’t help but feel nostalgic about it all. At 16, I had a better idea of what I wanted to do than I did in the past three years, I didn’t know the details but I did know I was going to live in New York and as my mom reminds me, I was going to have a high rise apartment where I could sit in my bay window and watch the city lights just like “Miracle on 34^th st.”. I don’t have a high rise apartment and the only lights I can see from my window are the ones coming from the Stuyvesant town apartment across the street from me but next summer, I hope to have a roof top pool (I’m just gonna dream big). When you’re 16 and live at home attending a sheltered all girl private high school in a quiet little town, anything seems possible. Then, when you tell your parents you want to go to school in Chicago you don’t they will but they believe you, so they drive you there and literally drop you off in this huge city with a stranger as a roommate (who turns out to be a crazy who does drugs), you tend to turn a little gun shy – suddenly New York seemed a little lofty. I had to find a new path luckily someone disguised that path I was taking by leading me to Kansas City first so not to scare me. I guess I had to see what it was like to live in a pretend city so I could earn back my rights to live in a real city. Without taking that chance and moving to Kansas City, I never would have remembered where my heart really belonged.

To put this over the edge of “nostalgic” to “corny” I’ll add this next section -- I visited Tiffany’s on Sunday which is where this love affair began almost 10 years ago and just stood in the sterling silver aisle furthest to the right on the 3^rd floor and among the buzzing of the tourists moving from case to case bumping each other with their shopping bags gazing down at the pieces of timeless treasures in the impeccably polished cases, I swear I saw 16 year old me fawning over my newly purchased glistening bauble knowing this purchase was just the beginning of something amazing. Looking down at my now gently worn, severely loved and iconic .925 sterling silver “Return to Tiffany’s” bracelet purchased on my first date with New York, I noticed, like me, it’s not shiny and new anymore but it’s developed a nice luster and I’m not afraid of letting it get a little scratch because you have to fight for what you want and take those risks.

St. Patrick's Cathedral

Ash Wednesday mass is my favorite mass of the year. I like walking around with ashes on my forehead and I love the song "Ashes" and I love the idea of new beginnings. This year though, I had to miss mass. I actually gave myself dispensation from this entire Lenten season. I just thought, I'm already sacrificing and learning new things enough as it is I can't throw the whole Catholic guilt season in the mix. I couldn't even find a church to get ashes I guess I could have asked the concierge in the hotel lobby I was living in though. Hmm. Anyway, I skipped it! That being said, it's time to start making up for it.

Today, I went to mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral which is in the middle of 5th Avenue, right across the street from Rockefeller Center. It amazes me that in the middle of all the craziness of the city there is this giant sanctuary that opens it's doors to thousands of tourists each days and still maintains a normal mass schedule. Inside the cathedral, there is the regular space where mass is held. It holds 4,000 people and that is exactly the number of people that showed up for the ticketed Easter Mass this year. Surrounding the pews are different alters for many of the saints.

People from all different nations come and light candles for their loved ones daily and say their prayers kneeling at the foot of their favorite saints statues. If you keep walking towards the main alter, the pews on your left and the Saints on your right, the path will take you behind the ornate alter to another chapel large enough to hold at least 100 participants -- it's the chapel of the tabernacle. St. Patrick's Cathedral has enough space for 100 people to celebrate mass in front of the tabernacle. This place cannot be described with words. It's amazing.

St. Patrick's Cathedral opened it's doors May 25, 1879 and in the past 132 years, New York has evolved all around this building. It's very fascinating to know that St. Patrick's Cathedral operates completely on donations from visitors and parishioners. To learn more, visit http://www.saintpatrickscathedral.org/150.html.

I have to say, I was a little disappointed in the mass I attended, the acoustics were terrible. It was difficult to hear what anyone was saying but the surroundings were enough for me to get lost in my own world.

I apologize, this picture is a terrible representation of the Cathedral.
I'm between cameras.

Look over there, I think that's the prison no one can escape from because it's an island ...

There is an entire website devoted to conversations and phrases overheard on the streets of New York. Unfortunately, this one I didn’t read about this experience on there, I lived it.

Spring in New York is a little touch and go. One day you think it’s here and the next is quickly grabbed from your kung fu grip. Today was one of those days though that was deceiving, it was warm outside of my apartment, standing still waiting for the bus, I was over flowing with joy at the pleasantness of the weather I decided it was the perfect day to take the Staten Island ferry across the New York Harbor.

I’d heard it was quite a treat to get out there on the water – most people ride the ferry to Staten Island and turn around and come right back to Manhattan. Not me, I was up for adventure. I should fill everyone in though, I don’t do adventure, adventure usually does Stephanie. I don’t think I’ve ever had one adventure go successfully. There was a road trip to Florida where we had to replace a door jamb to our rented condo, a trip to Miami where we needed a hat, scarf and gloves to go to the beach, a quick trip to the New Jersey Target that lasted 6.5 hours, a trip to P.C. Richards to pick up a TV purchased on line that resulted in visits to 4 other stores in pursuit of a cable for the HD cable – this was in avoidance of the actual adventure I was planning – while I could keep going, I think you get the point.

At the South Ferry terminal I looked around for a booth or a rack of brochures for Staten Island attractions. There weren’t any. For many, this would tell them there aren’t attractions but I was determined to get a glimpse of something amazing!

Once on the Ferry, a giant orange people mover, I first tried to determine which side would offer the best view, once I settled on a side I fought to get near an open window so I could feel the refreshing spring breeze on my face – accomplished. Behind me stood 2 gentlemen travelers, one appeared to live in New York, the other was clearly visiting. With our ride underway, I listened to the conversations around me, the 2 men behind me offered the most enticing ear candy. Visitor had just purchased his jazzy orange camera for the trip, he was so excited to use it, from what I gathered, he was really hoping there would be some great opportunities on this ferry ride.

As I enjoyed the scenery, I noticed we were coming upon Lady Liberty, as she is affectionately known to New Yorkers and Ellis Island – personally, this made me remember the Titanic and my first visit to New York, the summer before my junior year of high school and also one month before 9/11. For the savvy and well educated traveler behind me, it registered absolutely no memories at all which became evident to me as he jumped at the chance to get a photo of the 26.5 acre island he looked back to his friend and said, “Look that’s the prison no one can escape from because it’s an island.” If Lady Liberty could, I think she would have leaned down and slapped our genius right back to Chelsea where he belongs – she is too much of a lady for that behavior though and besides, the punishment he receives when he gets home and posts those pictures on his facebook in a less than cleverly titled album and captions it with, “Inescapable prison surrounded by water” , will be plenty for all of us. Someone in his circle must know the truth, I hope.

Once we docked in Staten island, I lost track of our New York tour guide because I escaped the terminal in pursuit of the sights! I walked up a hill, got hit on by a grandpa who asked me if I would like to have sex with him. After declining his rather enticing offer, he forgot he asked me and went a head and inquired a second time. Luckily, his daughter how had an accent similar to Rosie O’Donnell’s came and saved me. I continued to search but turned up with nothing except for Karl’s Klipper. Done. I popped in, sat down at the bar where I was greeted by Astrid, a Staten Island native.

Astrid and I quickly became friends – she began buying me bud lights which encouraged me to stay longer than expected, by the time I got in line for returning ferry to Manhattan it was 9pm and all the real gems of the island were dressed in their finest and ready to hit up the Manhattan night life. I must say, the beer at Karl’s Klipper was cold and the bar b cue hamburger I had was delicious. I even saw a car accident while I was there. I did not run in to any of the stars from MTV’s “True Life: I’m from Staten Island” but I did have high hopes and unfortunately, escaped without hearing someone yell in a Staten Island accent. Astrid was a trained actress and therefore, avoided the use of her accent. There’s always next time.

New Yorkers Go Out In Fast Forward

It’s safe to say I’m no stranger to a bar or a party. I like to go out and luckily, I’m good at it. So, when my long time friend who also resides in NYC asked me to go out I thought, great! The only thing holding me back is going to be my budget, let’s go. The plan was to meet her at her East Village apartment about 9pm for a little pre game session and to the bars we would go. Let’s remember when I moved, I brought whatever I could fit in 3 suitcases – I mostly brought work clothes. So, after piecing together an outfit that didn’t look completely like I just fell out of the boardroom, I was off. I got inside, she poured me a glass of wine and I settled in on the couch next to her boyfriend. We stuck around her apartment until at least 11pm before finally heading out to the bar which I learned was just a pit stop; our final destination was a house party. The bar was trendy so you can imagine it was ridiculously crowded but I could handle it, the 2 hour pregame left me feeling tickly and fancy! About 12:30am the team was ready to move on to the main event, the birthday party. After getting in an argument with a psychic, stopping at a liquor store for some Stella and walking up about 10,000 steps we were at the party – 1:30am. You know how there is always a point in the night you look back on the next day and say, “Yep, that’s where I made the wrong turn.” Well, this is similar at this point in the night the party gods hit the fast forward button on the evening and looking back, my memories of the rest of the night literally appear in fast forward. After knocking over the contents of the home bar, it was declared that we should head back out – with the entire party in tow. After a lot of fast forwarding, I poured myself into my little twin bed at The Pod Hotel and as I drifted off to sleep, I tried to convince myself I only stayed out so late because it was my first weekend in town.

Items I may have missed while in fast forward

• Inside the Birthday apartment, in an aquarium was a huge pet snake
• At some point in the evening a friend from high school got engaged – I asked her if I could be a bridesmaid, I’m still awaiting her response
• Multiple cab rides and destinations I will never again recognize
• Dancing – it wasn’t as fast as I remember it.