the thing about new york

During the last few months that I lived in Oregon, I became a professional Pouter.

I was so eager to get to New York that my impatience - which at one point might have been endearing - quickly turned me into a raging brat. I was dying to get to New York and had made up my mind that any time I wasn't spending in the city was a big, boring waste. (Sometimes I thought I was actually dying, but that's only because I'm really good at being a giant baby) To make matters worse, I decided that I had seen, tried, and tasted everything my little college town had to offer. I got in the delightful habit of throwing my hands up in the air and shouting, There's nothing left for me here!!! any time J suggested we go out to dinner or do something fun on the weekend. Living with me was pure joy.

For the record, Oregon is not boring and was never ever a waste. See above: big giant baby.

I have to say, though. Despite turning into a toddler, I might have been on to something.

The thing about New York is, it's impossible to be bored.
Remember the look on everyone's face when Harry kept accidentally saying Voldemort in the first, like, six movies? That's the same look you'd get in NYC if you complained about being bored. It's just offensive. Take it from Ernesto, my cab driver, "If you're bored in New York City, you've given up. You're probably an asshole, too." (Hey, he said it)

No matter what day of the week it is or how late you get off from work, there's always something to do and always people who are just as psyched as you are to do it. For example: on Friday night we were debating between 1) going salsa dancing, 2) going to a 'New Orleans-inspired Crawfish & Music festival', or 3) taking a trapeze class along the Hudson River. (What kind of options are these?! The biggest decision I've ever had to make on Friday night is whether to watch one episode of Seinfeld, or fourteen) I voted for the crawfish - who wouldn't? - but was sadly outnumbered and ended up salsa-ing my way to a whole new level of public humiliation. I only stepped on J's feet 78 times - a personal best!

What I'm saying is, if it's Monday night and you feel like drinking champagne and making papier mâché hats, there's a pretty good chance that you can find somewhere to do it (pretty good as in, 100%). Same goes for square-dancing on a Wednesday afternoon, taking fire-breathing classes, going to a restaurant that only serves oatmeal, and sword-fighting in Central Park.

Basically, New York is like, "I dare you to be bored."

photo via James Jowers

heather vs. summer

It's time for me to get something off my chest that I've been bottling up for over 20 years (that's right - years!). Are you ready for this? Here it is: Summer is my least favorite season. 

moodboard | 07

"There is something in New York air that makes sleep useless." - Simone de Beauvoir

I think what Simone meant to say was, "There is so much pollen in New York air that you should give up all hope of sleep." She really should have been more straightforward with us so that I could have known what I was in for. Way to help a sister out, Simone. 

This is my first spring in New York, and it turns out I was wildly unprepared. I swear we went from winter to spring in one night. I woke up one morning and everything had bloomed - everything! - and it wasn't even like things were blooming, they just bloomed. There were no buds or sprouts or any warning signs whatsoever. 

Spring was just like, I AM HERE. And then I was like, I CAN'T BREATHE. 

Despite the minor asthma attack that I enjoy every time I go outside, springtime in New York is pretty great! For starters, everything is beautiful. Central Park looks so pretty it's stupid. People are so happy about it, too. Everyone is running around, flying kites, riding matching bikes, skipping, cartwheeling, etc. etc. This video should give you a good idea of what's up in New York City right now. 

Other good things that come with Spring: 

1. smoothies

2. sandals

3. getting to eat outside at your favorite restaurant 

4. air conditioning on the subway

5. street fairs

This weekend, we're going to try and spend as much time outside as possible (pending my ability to breathe).  I want to explore the Brooklyn Flea Market (finally!), maybe ride the Staten Island Ferry without a jacket on, and eat as many popsicles as possible. 

How are you spending the long weekend? 

all photos via these boards

beauty soup | the upper west side

One of my favorite things to do on the weekends is wander around the upper west side and pretend that I live in one of those big, beautiful brownstones. As far as neighborhoods go, the upper west side is definitely my favorite hood in Manhattan. (My other favorite is the west village, but it would take some serious smooth talking to convince J to ever move down there. He can only handle so much cuteness.) The upper west side is pretty dreamy. The streets are wide and whimsical and so charming that it kind of makes your head spin (or is that just me?). No matter what season it is, the trees always overhang into the road so you feel like you're walking into a magical tree tunnel and after awhile, you're like, what movie am I in right now? (Just trust me) Oh, what I would do to wake up in the morning and have a cup of coffee at one of those big bay windows. And the stairs! The stairs. When I have stairs leading up to my front door, that's when I'll know I've made it in this world.

For the record, J thinks this new habit of mine is real creepy.
What I call 'admiring', he calls 'stalking'. (Tomāto tomäto, you know?) He digs the upper west side just as much as I do, but sometimes I get carried away while I'm window-shopping for my next dream home. Look at those windows! Can you imagine what it must look like inside? Look at the details! Ooh, look at the white one! LOOK AT THE WREATH ON THE DOOR! LOOK AT EVERYTHING! I WANT IT ALL!

He's made a point of walking 20ft behind me at all times in case one of the actual residents happens to notice that I've been circling their apartment all afternoon.

While I'm wandering/stalking, I like to channel my favorite New York City goddesses, Kathleen Kelly and Holly Golightly. Not surprisingly, this song is always playing in my head whenever I turn down West 69th, secretly hoping to stumble upon The Shop Around The Corner. There's something very romantic and old-New-York about the upper west side. It makes you want to play the saxophone and go on evening walks and drink red wine every night.

You know what I mean?

This post is part of the Beauty Soup project.

beauty soup (n) | a melting pot for all things worth admiring

why you should go to café lalo, right now

If you called me right now and were like, Heather. I only have one hour left to spend in the city. Tell me where to go. I would throw you into a cab and have you hauled off to Café Lalo. 

Upon arriving, I would make sure that we sat in the corner, by the window. (Did you think I wasn't going to join you? Think again!) Because if we sat in the corner, then we would have a view of the whole café and would still be able to see the twinkly lights that are always on the trees outside (twinkly lights are pretty up there in my book, so these details are all very important).

After a few minutes, you would realize how overwhelming the menu is and you might start to panic. At this point, we would order two glasses of champagne to calm your nerves. This should help you see more clearly and realize that, yes, of course the Goat Cheese and Spinach Scramble with Rosemary Bread is the best choice. I would then demand that I get to eat half.

While we enjoy the tulips on our table, the music, and all the amazing aromas floating out of the kitchen, we will start to wonder if we are suddenly living in the middle of a romantic comedy. You will slyly look around the café to see if Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams are sitting at any of the tables nearby. Disappointed that they are not, we will request a dessert menu and another round of champagne. While you scour the 50,000 flavors of pie on the menu, I will gaze longingly at the blueberry cheesecake in the display case. Declaring it Love At First Sight, I will refuse to even look at the menu.

Too distracted by the Best Dessert of Our Lives (and the food comas that we are slowly slipping into), it wouldn't be until the last bite that we will both remember that you were only supposed to be in New York for one hour. By this point, three hours have gone by and you will have missed your flight. C'est la vie! we would say, and two more glasses of champagne would be ordered.

This is pretty much a play-by-play of brunch this morning with my mom, give or take a few minor details. We weren't in any hurry (no flights were missed) and we were much more concerned about cheesecake than we were with Ryan Gosling. Also, she didn't panic about the menu because when we get together, it goes without saying that everything we order is going to be shared. You all know how I feel about trying little bites of everything. 

The moral of this story is: if you're visiting New York, this is the *one* place I insist that you go. It's impossible not to love. (And when you go, I hope you'll tell me all about it!)

Café Lalo

201 West 83rd Street

New York, NY 10024

when friends come to nyc

For the past two weeks, my friends and family from the west coast have been parading through New York City. One by one, they march through JFK, armed with heavy suitcases, great expectations, and a glow that only comes with the bliss and freedom of knowing that you're on Spring Break.

Friends have visited, my favorite cousin stopped by, and this week my mom is in town for nine luxurious days (!). This is all very exciting for me, you understand, because I still don't really know anyone in New York, so this stampede of visitors has left me feeling like the most popular girl in school.

When friends come to New York:
- we eat crepes
- and ride the Staten Island Ferry
- we wade through Times Square (and immediately regret it)
- we visit the Met, the MoMA, and grab a $2 hot dog on the way to the Museum of Natural History
- we talk about seeing a Broadway show
- and since nobody brought 10 billion dollars, we treat ourselves to the world's greatest bbq instead

When my mom comes to New York:
- we have lunch at ABC Kitchen
- and wander through the Chelsea Market
- we order champagne with every meal
- and pretend we're in You've Got Mail
- we take romantic strolls through Central Park
- and walk along the High Line
- then we eat fancy cheeses at Eataly (to reward ourselves for all the walking and strolling)
- and fall asleep dreaming about cannolis from Caffe Palermo

Basically, when people come to visit, I find that the best way to show them around New York is to eat our way through the entire city. It really is the only option, you know? The way I see it, New York has the best of everything. The best pizza. The best delis. The best donuts. If we try little (or not-so-little) bites of everything, then they can go back to Oregon and California knowing that they've had The Best of Everything. (Think of the bragging rights!) More importantly, if I've done my job properly I can send them all home with a few extra pounds around the belly - a gentle, ever-present reminder of me, and the Most Delicious Spring Break Of Their Lives.

how to: live in new york city without a job

While I have your attention, I would like to take a few minutes to thank a very rare, very select group of people. A group so exclusive - so magical - that spotting one of them is like spotting a unicorn, or Platform 9 and 3/4.

They are, People Who Tip Their Baristas.

People Who Tip Their Baristas are the reason I've been able to live in New York City for the past two months without a job. I mean it. In case you've been wondering what my secret trust fund looks like, let me tell you. It looks like a 12oz mason jar stuffed with 2-years worth of coffee shop tips. Can you say, jackpot? Minus a couple loads of laundry and a few late-night ice cream runs (i.e. life or death situations), every extra penny I made making lattes and cappuccinos went into that jar.

To me, People Who Tip Their Baristas are on the same level of holiness/heroic-ness as Mother Theresa, Gandhi, The Incredibles, and Meryl Streep. Straight up angels is what they are. If you've ever found yourself standing in line at your neighborhood café wondering, Do I really need to give this person a whole extra dollar? All they did was pour my coffee and smile at me! This isn't brain surgery! Anyone could do that! Then, let me stop you right there. On behalf of all baristas everywhere, allow me to set the record straight:

You need to tip your barista. Okay?
For one thing, if you don't tip them, they will remember you. Mark my words! You will forever be known as The Guy Who Doesn't Tip. And while it may not be brain surgery, it takes a very special kind of person to pour 300 cups of coffee a day and smile at every cranky, impatient, "mochaccino" drinking son of a bitch that walks through the door. If you really need to justify forking over an entire extra dollar, consider this: Your barista controls your coffee. You never know when you might get decaf by accident.

Am I getting side tracked?

Here's what my girl Mindy Kaling remembers about being unemployed in New York City:

The greatest source of my stress was that it had been three months since I'd moved to New York and I still didn't have a job. You know those books called "From Homeless to Harvard" or "From Jail to Yale" or "From Skid Row to Skidmore"? They're these inspirational memoirs about young people overcoming the bleakest of circumstances and going on to succeed in college. I was worried I would be the subject of a reverse kind of book: a pathetic tale of a girl with a great education who frittered it away watching syndicated Law & Order episodes on a sofa in Brooklyn. From Dartmouth to Dickhead it would be called. I needed a job.

My story is pretty much the same, give or take a few minor details.
For instance, my book would be called From Bachelor's Degree to The Bachelorette - a collection of short stories about a girl with a great education who frittered it away watching back-to-back episodes of House of Cards and eating Chinese take-out. Or maybe, From Starry-eyed to Sing-Sing (who knows what could happen?).

And so. The job hunt marches on! And I march with it.
In the meantime, I can go on living indoors and eating Chinese take-out thanks to the greatest unsung heroes of our time.

To all the People Who Tip Their Baristas, thank you.

on decorating my first nyc apartment

If there's one thing I love, it's interior design.

Along with being a famous pianist, a published author, a professional florist, and a world renowned cake-taster, one thing I would love to be is an interior designer. My ideal Saturday would be spent wandering around Pottery Barn, picking out paint chips at Home Depot, and watching back-to-back episodes of 'Love it or List It'. Sometimes J has to come in and physically unglue my eyeballs from my Home Decor boards before I forget what day it is.

To slowly be able to turn a house (or apartment) into a home is one of my favorite things to do. Of course, I never want to slowly turn it into a home. I want to do it all in one day - quick! buy the furniture! pick out the art! paint the walls! - so that, come dinnertime, I can feel like I'm nestled into my own little Anthropologie catalog.

Having our own apartment feels so good.
We looked at a bunch of different apartments before we found this one, and it was the only place that felt like home right when we walked in the door. Amazingly, it's not the closet-under-the-stairs that we were both prepared to live in. It's small, but big enough for me to do cartwheels in the living room (which is typically how I measure the size of any room). We have hardwood floors, lots of light, and a fire escape outside our window which clearly signifies that I am now a true New Yorker.

While we haven't been able to do everything in one day, we've definitely made some progress in the decorating department. Thanks to my best friend in the whole world (IKEA), we are now the proud owners of a coffee table, a dresser, and a kitchen island. We are also the proud parents of four new houseplants! This apartment is basically bursting with pride.

Oh! And speaking of pride, I am also the proud owner of my very own orange kitchen (!!!). My dream finally came true! Last week, I came home after a long day at my internship with sore feet and a dangerous, ravenous need for Chinese take-out, only to discover that J had painted our entire kitchen from top to bottom. That guy. Hunger was quickly replaced with lots of squealing and jumping up and down. It looks so good! Once we get a few things hung up on the walls, I'll snap some photos.

We have successfully unpacked all four of the boxes we moved in with (thank you, thank you), so right now all the artwork I brought over from Oregon is lined up neatly along the floor of our living room, begging to be hung. I'm getting anxious, but J insists that we wait until we paint. We must wait to paint! We're experimenting with one turquoise wall in our bedroom, and maybe a gray and yellow living room?

The options really are endless.

image via bleubird

things new york has taught me

01. The best time of day to ride the subway. 
Early morning, when everyone is showered and awake and  in good enough of a mood to read the newspaper and give up their seats to the elderly.

02. The worst time of day to ride the subway.
Between 5-6:30pm, when the train turns into a sardine can, crammed with tired, cranky people who are too busy sweating through their 3-piece suits to give a damn about the elderly.

03. How to be a professional Speed Walker. 
Around here, walking down the street is like merging onto the freeway, but without a slow lane. Last weekend I sprained my foot for some "mysterious, unknown reason". (I blame my dedication to speed walking)

04. That it really is okay to wear black every day.
Really.

05. How much I hate sales tax.
Besides all the rainy days, the quinoa, and the bike-riding, one of my favorite things about living in Oregon was having no sales tax. Cereal and paper towels didn't claim to be something they weren't, you know? If they say they're $5.00, then they really are $5.00. I like my cereal and my paper towels to be honest with me. Sales tax is really putting a strain on my relationship with Cheerios.

06. No matter how much I don't want to admit it, there *is* a burger out there that's better than In N Out.
When I lived in Oregon, all my Oregon friends tried to convince me that this place and that place had better burgers than In N Out. (As if they knew anything about burgers) Fortunately, I am both a native Californian and a good American, so I wasn't about to be fooled. Trust me when I say, it's In N Out or bust. Except...when it comes to Shake Shack. All it took was one bite (one bite!). Now I can't even look In N Out in the eye.

07. "14 degrees outside. Wind chill feels like negative 11" is something you can get used to.
Like I said, native Californian. I used to wear winter coats in 60-degree weather. Last night it was so windy that my bag literally flew off my arm. I've only been here for two months and already, 30 degrees is starting to sound like summertime.

08. A view of the Empire State Building never gets old.
I've been meaning to tell you - I got an internship! On my walk home every night, I turn the corner and BAM! There it is, all lit up and sparkling like it ain't no thang. I don't think I'll ever get tired of that view.

09. If you're bored, you're doing something wrong.
Period.

10. No matter how cold, windy, expensive, tired or cranky everything and everyone seems, it's all good.
It's New York City.

we found an apartment!

We found an apartment! We found an apartment! We found an apartment! 

Ring the gong! Light the firecrackers! Pop the champagne!

J & I will be celebrating Valentines Day by spending our first night in our new apartment. Great timing, right? (Thanks, universe!) Tonight, the guest count includes:
- Us
- Our air mattress
- One large pepperoni-jalapeno-spinach pizza

Can you say, romance?

We'll be spending the weekend moving in and getting settled. Unlike our last move, this one should be pretty painless. The only things we actually have to move are 2 suitcases and 4 FedEx boxes (everything we own fits in there - I'm still amazed). Until we start buying furniture, our air mattress will not only be playing the role of Our Bed, but it will also be starring as The Dining Room Table, The Desk, The Office Chair, and The Couch.

I love that we get to start from scratch. The first thing we want to do is paint (we're tossing around the idea of an orange kitchen - !! - any opinions?). The second thing I want to do is turn all of our walls into little art galleries. I've been pinning up a storm with home decor ideas + inspiration. I've basically spent the last month dreaming about decorating a new apartment, and let me just say, I don't know how much longer I can wait.

We'll be internet-less for awhile, but stay tuned! Apartment details coming soon.

P.S. Who wouldn't want all of these prints on their walls? Ah.

01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06

my first month in nyc + what sarah jessica parker thinks

"They say when you live in New York City, you're always looking for a job, a boyfriend, or an apartment." 

These words have been floating around in my head all week (because that's what my thoughts do, they float around like balloons). One time I was flipping through different channels and something possessed me to pause on an episode of Sex and The City (hey, nobody's perfect). As she trotted down Madison Avenue in one of her tiny little skirts, Sarah Jessica Parker mentioned that when it comes to New York City dwellers, there are only three possible things on our minds.

It turns out SJP was right. Luckily I've already got myself a handsome gentleman friend, but when it comes to a job and an apartment, I'm still 0/2. I have to admit, I moved to New York with pretty optimistic ideas about what it would be like to job-hunt in the city. At the time, I think my head was filled with cotton candy and rainbows (it happens to the best of us). In La La Land - where I sometimes like to live - I would jet off to New York City, waltz right into my dream job, move into this apartment and live happily ever after. Sounds pretty reasonable, right? 

I'm sure you're just as surprised as I am that none of that has happened. I blame Sarah Jessica Parker.

This first month in New York has been full of lessons. The first lesson I learned was the delicious power behind street vendor gyros. I'll probably dedicate an entire post to those things pretty soon. The next lesson was about patience (and how I have absolutely none). I basically stepped off the plane in December and expected everything to happen at once. Day one, get a job. Day two, find the perfect apartment. Day three, start living my new, magical life. That's been my biggest problem - thinking that once I have all these things, that only then will this new chapter of my life really begin and only then can I start enjoying New York. Lesson three, I am my own worst enemy. 

I'm thinking about having this tattooed across my forehead: 

"Often people attempt to live their lives backwards. They try to have more things or more money in order to do more of what they want, so that they will be happier. The way it actually works is the reverse. You must first be who you really are, then do what you need to do in order to have what you want." - Margaret Young

my nyc // an update (aka lots and lots of words)

Well, it's almost midnight and I'm currently enjoying the biggest slice of lemon raspberry cheesecake I've ever seen in my life. Probably in your life, too. I'm also in pajamas. Can you say yolo?

Is it time for a New York update or what? Yeah. Tell me about it.

For starters, I've been reading up a storm. It's all that time on the subway! In the past month, I've read four of what are now some of my favorite books of all time* and have moved right along to this gem. You'll be pleased to know that I'm still laughing maniacally to myself in public every time I turn the page. Speaking of the subway, I'm making major progress! I've been riding that thing like a bike without training wheels and I haven't fallen off once (slash gotten lost).

What else. Oh! How about a wild turn of events? J landed himself a nice little job. I mean, it's definitely not a "little" job. It's a nice, healthy, normal-sized job. That was definitely an unexpected plot twist. As you know, when we moved here we both assumed we'd be looking for work for at least one month (if not twenty). This is New York City after all. Right when we started getting cozy in our routine of running around and exploring the city all day - weeee! free time! unemployment! fun! - BAM! He has to ruin our vacation and go to work.

What do you mean this isn't a vacation?

Heh. To be honest, I was a little panicked when I first heard this news. After all, who was I supposed to hang out with now?! What about me and my needs?! I mean really. How selfish, right? As you might have guessed, exploring this city on my own isn't so bad after all. In fact, it's been pretty fun. I've been walking everywhere and wishing I had a million dollars in my pocket so that I could try everything. And by 'try', I obviously mean 'eat'. (Slowly but surely I will eat everything, don't you worry. Everything!)

Are you still reading? You are? Wow! Hi. Let's continue on.

Here's something I never thought I would say: I joined a gym! (I know!) Just like every other year of my life, this year my New Year's Resolution was to exercise more. Original, right? Thanks. It's true though. I always feel so much better when I exercise (duh) and I'm determined to make it part of my routine. For real this time. I promise! Stop looking at me like that.

So, there's that. I'm running more! And walking everywhere. My legs are really enjoying New York.

The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God:
I miss my people. I miss seeing my friends and family on a regular basis and having people to do things with. I want to have someone to meet for coffee and to hang out with after work. (Wait. Does this mean I need to have a job so that I can have friends? It all makes sense now!) I know what you're thinking. It has only been a few weeks, and geez, won't I calm down already?. Don't get me wrong. I know what I signed up for with this cross-country move and believe me when I say that this is still a grand adventure. I'm just eager to meet my new people.

The good news is, I love New York. That's what matters, right? Despite the fact that I'm wandering through this giant, incredible city on my own, somehow I still feel like this is where I'm supposed to be. And yes, I'd love some wine with that cheeeeeese.


* P.S. I promised to tell you how this book was, remember? Well please, for all of our sakes, stop reading this sentence immediately and go get it! Seriously. It was really good. I might even read it again. I was actually sad when it ended. I wanted more! Hey, didn't I tell you to stop reading this?

my nyc // and now we explore the sea

Before I moved to New York, people kept asking me what I was "most afraid of" about living in the city. Shouldn't they be asking what I'm most excited about? I wondered. C'est la vie. There really is something about New York that makes people think you're going to be robbed or stabbed every time you turn the corner. Coincidentally, I told them that my biggest fears were being robbed or stabbed. Or murdered. (Hi mom!) After those three (obvious) choices came things like 'never finding a job' and 'getting lost'. Now, I don't really think I'm going to be murdered or stabbed while I'm here but I do still have a fear of getting lost. This is a pretty silly fear to have when there are so many maps around and plenty of people to ask for directions (you know, if I was really desperate). J has me studying the subway map every day. He even quizzes me. If you're on 81st street and need to get to Wall Street, which train do you get on?! How many transfers? Quick, woman! I started to answer and then realized that it was clearly a trick question because Why in the world would I be on Wall Street?

Heather, 1. J, 0.

Moving to New York City is kind of like starting a new job. You desperately want to know where everything is and how it all works and you don't want anyone to notice that you don't have a damn clue what's going on. Essentially, I want to know where everything is without having to consult a map which would obviously reveal my new-girl status and ruin the fabulous reputation I'm trying to build over here.

Ahem.