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.

Home Sweet Home!

I've lived in a big city before but I never worried about bugs or germs the way I obsess over them here. I don't know if I'm older so I'm just more in tune to it all or what but I'm fully obsessed. I've finally moved out of the hotel and into an apartment and I've got to say, it looks like a set of Law and Order. Not the fancy victims apartment but the slum who's being questioned. The pictures below really don't do it justice. I chose to live her for 4 reasons.

1. Irene, my roommate is wonderful!
2. It's the first floor of a walk up
3. The evening I toured it was freezing and rainy and I couldn't meet anymore freaks.
4. Irene, my roommate is wonderful!

I haven't actually seen a bug yet but I'm sure they are here. Let me be honest, I'm sleeping in a bed someone left here and I'm putting my clothes in storage drawers someone left here. There are air fresheners everywhere, cracks in the floor, stains on the walls. It's completely unkempt. If there AREN'T bugs, I'm going to be shocked. Irene informed me, no one cooks in the kitchen. Who would? It looks like a kitchen found in a prison cell, complete with a chipping, iron sink with caulk from 1965, linoleum tile from a serial killers bathroom, an oven that I'm certain roaches have nested in and when I go to bed they come out and feast and a dish towel from the 40s, never cleaned. Welcome home. Let me also ad, the door from the street to the building locks however the safety door right after the street door into the building does not lock. We don't have a safety intercom with lock buzzer, there is a dark and suspicious stairway leading down to no where right outside my door and the stairs going upstairs are narrow and slanting as though they may fall off the wall. Please, no visitors.

Below find some tips I've learned from research roaches and household bugs in New York City.

• Putting steel wool in the cracks of the floor keeps roaches from coming in your apartment.
• Spraying bleach on constantly wet surfaces keeps bugs from showing interest in the standing water.
• Don't smash bugs with your shoes, if it's a female, her eggs may survive and hatch from the bottom of your shoe. {REALLY? Really.}
• Roaches can live in your microwave, not in the cooking part but in the walls of it. Vomit.
• "Sleep tight don't let the _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _!" New Yorkers NEVER finish this phrase

Pictures, for your viewing pleasure.

Warning: Pictures don't match description, you just have to trust me.

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{Kitchen}
I know it looks cozy and cute, not in person though.

{Our Bathroom}

Where serial killers go to the bathroom and clean their hands.

{Looking into the Kitchen from the Living Room}
The dwellings of a serial killer but the potential to be so much more.

Directly Opposite of the first picture. This apartment def has
potential. Great high ceilings, exposed brick.