WouldYouLikeToDanceAroundTheWorldWithMe

Hurricane Blizzard is what they call it. Sounds like an overpriced cruise ship beverage if you ask me. I woke up to a sloshy mixture of rain and snow this morning, and before that discovery, to an annoying dry cough. Welcome to my last day in New York. It's been almost a full month with no success in finding a paid fashion job. I have made strides. And I have been hired as a cocktail waitress. But when it came down to it, my parents were strongly suggesting I give my pup away to a new home, and... I did not have 2,200 cash lying around for the next month. I would be sacrificing a lot to stay here and I didn't want to have any regrets. If I move back to Jacksonville some people might view it as a failure, but I view it as a place to rest, save up, sew, and plan my next adventure.

New York City is a struggle, that's part of what makes it so energizing and enticing. The majority of people that live here WANT to be here with all of their heart. All of their soul.

After a month of the internship and getting a minor glimpse of the real fashion industry I realized what I didn't want to be. And sometimes when you see what you don't want, it points you in the direction of what you do want.

I don't want to be glued to my phone. I don't want to be on the edge of my seat feeling inadequate. I don't want to feel constantly stressed or live my life for the success of somebody else. If I'm struggling, I want it to be for the well being of myself or a reputable company I strongly believe in. I need to be given the respect that I give back. I want it to be a worth while and enjoyable struggle to reach my goal with dignity and self worth intact.

I'm going to miss this place. New York reminded me how enjoyable it is to strike up conversations with strangers. It taught me that every day can become an adventure, and you have the decision to make it one. It taught me to actually like cold weather. As I type this I'm in fur-filled boots, UnderArmor leggings, a shirt, a hooded sweatshirt, and lastly a fur hat head band. Cold weather allows you to dress ridiculous and I've come to comfortably adore these layered get ups. Human beings are such adaptable animals; total chameleons with the ability to live in any weather climate.

New York, I'll be back. Whether it be for a visit or another temporary residence. Until then, thanks for the hospitality.

Gypset

I can't wait to read the book Gypset Style.

Here is a brief synopsis of the "gypset life" and where it originated from in an interview with the author:

Gypset lifestyle references the 1960s but it is not a continuation. My book traces the wanderlust tendencies of the counterculture starting with the British romantic poets like Lord Byron and Percy Shelley who left England for more tolerant shores of Italy in the 1800s. The Victorian adventurers like Richard Burton and Jane Digby on up to the beatniks who lived in Tangier, and then on to the 1960s with hippies backpacking around India and Asia. All of these groups needed to go outside of society to find freedom and create. Gypsetters as a group really started to emerge in the 1990s when counterculture had become commodified. Places like St. Tropez or downtown New York City, once alternative refuges, had been taken over by bankers and real estate tycoons. The Gypsetters came along and said, that’s not luxury, that’s tacky. Real luxury isn’t for sale. It’s something that has soul and creativity.

So, in short, what should we do to live like a Gypsetter?
JC: Be spontaneous and wander.

GypsyChild

Right now I'm craving a sweet pile of breakfast food and sushi all at the same time. I woke up not feeling well this morning and immediately blame it on the head cold that has been playing games with me all week, disappearing and then waking me up vengeance. I made a healthy breakfast of eggs, salsa, coffee and a banana in an effort to ignore the fact I might be getting sick and called a contact from The Donager group to set up a time to meet with him tomorrow. He made sure to stress that he WAS NOT an employment agency, but he's nice enough to put a face with a voice and a resume so I'm grateful for that.

It was raining when I woke up and has continued to pour down all day. I'm sitting here dreaming of sushi and belgian waffles with nails painted, make up and heels on, ready to go apply to my last resort: hotel and restaurant jobs.

As soon as the rain lets up I'm out the door.

What is it with the show 24? I've only become remotely obsessed with one show in my entire life, Gossip Girl, which was arranged and reminded by my room mates and friends or else I surely would have forgotten about it. Every man I know is either a loyal viewer or at least a big fan. I called my dad last night after taking a personality-career test to tell him I am destined to become a journalist. Only 5% of the population achieve these results. I finally have my life figured out! He politely hung up the phone as fast as he could mumbling the numbers 24 into the receiver...

Looks like I've lost him to the cult too.

He did call back, we caught up and ended the phone in a mutual agreement that I was the gypsy child of the family.

IsitBecauseImBlack?TheRealStory.

It's beautiful today so I decided to write with the window open while I wait for Liz to finish packing. It's been a great weekend with card games at the bar, four story clubs and dance offs, 5:00AM diner grub and... the homeless man.

There are countless homeless people in the city, with time I'm calculating to become one of them. But this homeless man took a different approach than any I've ever seen. Instead of posting up a street corner, or inside the subway trying to make music or sell his artistic capabilities, he was lounging half way across the stairwell to get out on the street. We almost tripped over him. His feet were bloody and calloused. He held a cup for money. Truly, I would have felt bad for him and spared my change if he hadn't of muttered the words:

"It's because I'm black."

Really? Is that it? You're settling for living in the stairs of a subway and panhandling for food because you're black. I know PLENTY of African American people that are doing well. Much better than I am. They have a work ethic and class. My advice for you man, is to get a new line. People don't want to hear excuses.

A few of my favorite moments of the weekend:

1. Sliding back in the crowd and letting a midget fill my position behind Liz in line. The look her her face was priceless.

2. Discovering the "card" application on iPhone. I highly suggest it, great entertainment and perfect for Circle of Death.

3. Dance off with a very large middle aged man. Don't judge a book by it's cover. He pulled out dance moves only Michael Jackson could've been capable of and got low, low, low... And moved his hands in a constant rave motion all the while.

4. Liz ordering a full meal at 5AM and then refusing to take a bite. This upset a large part of the table as we devoured our fries, burgers, and wraps. Liz fought back by lying about her flight time. 7PM became 7AM. She had to go. Soon.

We ignored this and she tried again to win the battle. She was saving it for her plane ride. For dinner. Okay Liz.

5. A girl cleverly yelling PETA at me in the bathroom. I wanted to say, it's fake and I paid $10.00 for it. Yours are fake and you paid a few thousand. Who wins?

6. Triumphantly becoming a true New Yorker and eyeing the less packed subway cars before boarding. One was almost completely empty so we all had the same brilliant idea to fill it. As the doors quickly closed behind us we became one. Tourists, city dwellers, all ages and races realized we had sentenced ourselves to a subway that smelled like a mix of garbage and a homeless man's bathroom stall. In a line we moved from one subway car to the next laughing and gasping for air.

Tomorrow, will be an early morning of Regis and Kelly with my mom's friend Mrs. Coggins. She was surprised I was excited to join her. Are you kidding me? I am publicly announcing my love for that show. Regis is classic and Kelly is hilarious. I can't wait. Then it's job search time. Only a few more days to find a killer job before it's back to Florida. If not, I'm realizing that I DO want to ultimately own a successful clothing line and if moving back south to sew and live cheaper for a while is what I have to do I'm content with that.

I feel like laying outside with my laptop, blanket and book. Might have to make it a roof top day.

IsItBecauseImBlack???

The past two days have been accompanied by Lower East Side dive bars, the internship runaround, shopping... and of course, Liz. The first night Liz got here we changed and hit up the local bars. What made the night interesting is that on our way to the bar Liz mentioned how she might need to change into a heavier jacket. Suddenly a feisty Brazilian man intercepted our conversation and suggested that he was headed to the same bar as us. I'm sure he decided this once we dropped the name. Anyways, he bought us both drinks, which is always nice for the steep prices in the city and stuck around for a beer and conversation. He openly told Liz that he misses the intimacy of having a girlfriend in the first five minutes. When he left we were a little relieved, and I promptly got a facebook friend request from Paul in a glittered spanish parade costume. Unfortunately my finger slipped and hit ignore....

We woke up to spend our next few hours of existence finding fabric swatches, picking up dresses, re-ordering buttons. In summary, power walking a fashionable half marathon. Afterwards we checked out the NYC Juicy flagship store, two stories of high priced outfits displayed in a setting that made me want to hire the interior designer on the spot. I love the romantic vintage style of the stores, but it was all eye candy and I kept the wallet stashed away deep in my purse. Liz did the same. Once we got home we crashed into a power nap and woke up to my room mate coming home from work. He confidently accused us of being lazy and hung over while denying our alibis of an eventful day.

TBC..... Happy Hour Margaritas calling our names.

DoubleTrouble

I am aware that this is my second post of the day but I'm trying to redeem myself from not writing at all tomorrow. I think I'm going to be way too excited and busy to slow down and type out a few stories. Also, I'm going to be running around four fabric samples for Vladymir, which always takes longer than expected.

Why am I excited? Liz arrives tomorrow!!! I also have a surprise birthday dinner to attend for my second cousin Butchie in Tribecca, which I imagine is going to be expensive. Is it rude to only order a salad or appetizer at a fancy birthday dinner? Tomorrow night is the final night to go out for Fashion Week. I've surprisingly not taken part in it at all this time around, mostly because I had nobody to go out with. This makes me sound like a pitiful loner, but it's okay because I'm alright with being alone in New York City for a limited period of time (as long as I can pick up the phone for a meaningful conversation every now and then).

When I get bored all I do is literally step out my front door and start walking.

After a few blocks I've either ease dropped or taken part in so many ridiculous conversations and situations that I'm satisfied with the social interaction for the day. I forgot to add that last night on my way out of the apartment I witnessed two guys trying to shimmy a queen size mattress UP, not down, the middle of the stairwell. If you saw the picture of my stairs you would have been in awe too. It was amazing to watch their fingers turn white while trying to grip onto the mattress. I wanted to have a part in it. I dropped my bag and held on for a little while until I realized I was absolutely no help. I asked them if they wanted me to get my room mate to help them. One said yes. One said no.

Then the "one that said yes" told the "one that said no" to stop trying to act cool in front of a girl and that they were actually struggling. I let them bicker for a little while until I got a block away and called my room mate to check on the progress. I didn't want them to lose their manhood- but I'm sure they were delighted when a random dude offered help.

Today I did my laundry. I've always wanted to enter a laudromat since Amy Grant's music video in the 1990s. It was a total success, however I spent the entire hour basically sitting next to what I thought was an indie rocker boy. As I was on the phone I couldn't help but subconsciously compare our thighs, to which my dismay- his were much tinier than mine peaking out through "his" ripped, hippie, skinny jeans. It wasn't until I had to do an extra dryer cycle and needed to exchange my two dimes and a nickel for a quarter that I realized the he was a she. Startled, it took everything inside of me to not jump back. But after I heard the voice, and got a straight on look it was definitely a girl. Who was trying to look like a boy? And succeeding with flying colors...? Well done. You got me.

AllWeNeededWereSomeGoodFriendsAndASong

I was leaving my cousin's last night when I forgot how deserted the financial district gets after Wall Street lets out. It's literally a ghost town. Anyhow, I didn't want to pay for a taxi so I clutched onto my things and walked a few streets up to the subway. The entire time it was only me on the street, plus a lingering man in a trench coat and fedora smoking a cigarette. He stared at me as I walked past and could feel his eyes burning into my back as I picked up the pace. It sounds cliche but I felt like I was the victim in a Nancy Drew or Sherlock Holmes mystery novel. This is the first night in New York I can attest to feeling nervous or unsafe. I hurried to the subway and walked down two stories expecting to see more people but only to realize it was me, alone with two homeless men who had made beds on the floor. It was all too much so I ran back up to ground level and searched for a taxi. I learned my lesson. Next time I'm just crashing on the cousin's couch.

Sun is Shining!

Anytime I say this I automatically follow it by singing the rest of a song by Finley Quaye in my head. If you've never heard it you should look it up. Definitely a mood lifter. Last night I got two Valentines Day gifts in the mail. One from my mother, which included countless bags of candy, a sleeping mask to cover my eyes at night, socks, and money. It was exactly what I needed. I did tear into each bag and candy box individually, insisting with my cousin that we needed to try a sample of everything. I'm pretty sure he had a handful of nerds and an airhead. I ate the same... multiplied by five other types of candy so my stomach felt sick for the rest of the night. It reminded me of a time in college when someone's mom had sent them a large Sam's club pack of laffy taffy. Four of us sat in a circle puling out flavors and reading the jokes on the back. At the end someone said it was time to put them all back in the bag. I didn't realize I was the only one who had been eating every piece... story of my life. I'm surprised I don't have more cavities. Which reminds me, my mom also sent me dental floss. She knows me too well...

My friend Evan's mom, who- if you've never had the pleasure of meeting, is amazing. She is one of those people that can somehow find the balance of giving you honest advice while holding onto the greatness and positive opportunities that can also be achieved. She sent me a hilarious card with a Starbucks gift card inside. Perfect. On top of this, I got a really nice, motivating message when I woke up this morning. I am ready to conquer the world right now. I've always heard the saying "If you lay with the dog you get fleas," I think that is true to an extent but how about if you surround yourself with good people the energy is undeniable? I am VERY thankful for the people I have close to me at this point in my life. They are exactly what I need to help me stay focused. With that said, I have to go make a few phone calls, clean the kitchen & bathroom, attempt laundry, and return a temporary phone I bought when I thought I killed mine with coffee.