Dear Summer 2009,
I’m sorry, I can’t.
Don’t hate me.
Dear Fall 2009,
I had a great time last night.
Let’s do it again soon.
Things I don’t know:
Where I will be living October 1st.
Things I do know:
Blimps are very funny.
Last night, as I crossed Manhattan from East to West and made my way home, a warm dusk enveloped the streets making the city feel calm and comfortable for the first time in a long time. I’m not sure whether it was the woman dropping a letter in her neighborhood mailbox or the trio of good friends laughing long and hard through eachother’s company or the stoic Rottweiler that let me pat his head while we all waited for the light to turn, but I really wanted to smile.
So I did.
The High Line. New York, NY
Sometimes I hear people complaining about The High Line’s megaoverhypedom and ridiculous besidesthepointness, but I really couldn’t disagree with that opinion more. For me, The High Line is unbelievably powerful and makes possibilities for growth and change feel nothing short of infinite. All I want to do everytime I visit that gorgeous stretch of communal post industrial urban outdoor space is live a better life. Maybe even be a better human being. I really wish I was kidding, because I sound like a blubbering liberal lunatic. But I’m not . . . kidding.
I wonder what life would be like if we all dated fearlessly . . .
Blanket Forts and Treehouses. Anywhere, USA
Most people don’t realize this, but the secret to building any blanket fort worth its weight in bedsheets is having a large number of safety pins at your immediate disposal. After that, construction should be a total breeze. As far as building a treehouse goes, however, I have no idea where to even begin. If you happen to know the secret to building a proper treehouse, please consider this: I will trade you all of my blanket fort building expertise in exchange for just one bonafide treehouse to call my own.
Please and thank you.
1 taste of chicago
1 lawn sprinkler
a couple of firefly festivals
sparklers (for garnish)
1 lake house
a couple of port-a-pit meals
1 overgrown chipwich
1 extra long camp session
1 mason jar always full of fresh cut flowers
Combine all ingredients in a large mixing bowl and garnish with sparklers.
Keeps fresh for 3 months.
Makes (1) kick ass summer
Sometimes, when the air feels exciting and fresh and full of more possibilities than I can wrap my mind around, a single idea finds its way into my head and plants itself with such persistence and gumption that it consumes everything I’ve got until my idea obsession has gotten so out of control that it practically reaches pregnant midnight craving proportions.
In the past, this idea has ranged from mystery shopping to crush-o-gram [scaming] to hanging 250 super bouncy balls for, you know, the fun of it. Right now, that idea is opening up an old school, superkind, superfine, mom and pop ice cream shop in Hell’s Kitchen.
Challenges # 1, 2, & 3: I have no clue how to make ice cream let alone run a small business. Oh, and in case you haven’t heard, the economy has just reached a new level of crashandburn. Wish me luck!
Last week, as I tried to cure my “oh my god I’m having the slowest work week ever”-itis by attempting to read the entire internet, I [thankfully] stumbled upon a section of Craigslist NYC I had never noticed before. While I thoroughly enjoy discovering where I can find a women’s beach cruiser with at least 5 gears for under $100 or what the rapidly declining rent of a 2 bedroom on the LES is or if the too cool for school Trader Joe’s employee has finally decided to take our flirty any number of items checkout banter to the next level, I never considered using the Gigs section to truck through my on-again off-again bout of “omgihtswwe”-itis.
As it turns out, Gigs are usually one-time/part-time, under the table, tax free job postings that range from late-night dog walking to Thai language tutoring to 3D photorealistic artistry to podcast modeling [just to name a few]. Making my way through this whole new world of on the side, on the fly, money making opportunities and imagining the awesomeness of walking some kept woman’s giant Burmese Mountain Dog during my lunch break so she can attend a Kundalini yoga class, I stumbled upon this:
Rooftop Space needed for Photoshoot (Manhattan)
I am looking to do a photoshoot on a rooftop in Manhattan (or on the Queens/Brooklyn side if it is right by the water). Date is btwn May 28-31 (tbd). Duration: 4-5 hours. Please respond with rate. Thanks!
It is really scary how close I came to responding to this post. Not only is the roof of my Hell’s Kitchen apartment building currently accessible due to some temporary hallway construction, but I’ve also been completely in love with it ever since the 4th of July roof party we had the summer I moved here was perfectly punctuated with incredibly unique and stunning views of the city. Clearly, the creator of this post was speaking only to me. Everyone else go away. Seriously, dudes. Scram!
But. But. But. [there’s always a but]
I don’t really own the building I live in and we’re not technically allowed to be on the roof so I started to realized it would be extremely unwise for me to respond to this post as all parties involved would definitely end up with various disappointments [like fines/eviction notices]. Then my inner middle schooler monologue kicked in and said, “umm, Amy, how about we not and say we did?” Ugh. Whatever. You know, you’re a real baby. Why don’t you go read the latest Goosebumps or something? Yeah, you heard me! I’m gonna go download some free fonts now. Shut up! This is you in the future! Moving on…
By the end of the week, Craigslist Gigs had eased my “omgihtswwe”-itis smoothly into the weekend and suddenly it was Saturday and my roommate Patrick and I were ushering in a slow start to summer by sunbathing on [you guessed it] the roof. I told him all about the post I had found and he completely agreed how outrageously awesome this space would be for a photoshoot. At that moment we both got these really ridiculous/mischievous grins on our faces and before I knew it my Canon Powershot SD600 had been busted out and was going from 0 to 60 on an impromptu amateur photoshoot. Here’s a little taste of what went down:
Craigslist Gigs ain’t got nothing on us.
buy a bike
go to the Bronx Zoo
get a kick-ass tan
swim it out
have boozy brunch on a block that doesn’t smell like pee
Saturday, April 18 was one of the reasons I moved to New York. The city was gorgeous, sunny, exciting, without any limitation whatsoever, and practically begged us all to have a damn good time. I somehow found myself hopping from Hudson River bike riding to Central Park sunbathing to Brooklyn flea marketing to Fort Greene lounging all before sunset (hopefully making Time Out NY more than proud). Also, I have a pretty good feeling that if a randomly sunny spring day can prove to be this successful, summer is gonna blow my mind.
uh huh. ooooooh yea. one more time. nyc byob style.