The Day My Childhood Ended

Today is the day my childhood ends.

Me and my friends from the past will officially finish our stories
together tonight.

I remember staying up late with them, huddled under covers or crammed in my closet, trying to squeeze in as much time as possible before “lights out.”

I remember sitting on my kitchen table screaming my friends’ stories to my mother as she made dinner. Occasionally the tales would get too exciting, and she would stop the production of her meal just to finish their great narratives.

I remember lying out on the beach with these same companions of mine. I would spend hours with them on the sand, in the hot tub, on the balcony before dinner… We didn’t really hang out in the water together – but I would have had that been plausible.

I remember deeply discussing these childhood friends’ sagas with my family and my neighbors. We could talk for hours about why my friends did this or why my friends did that.

I remember rushing to the store to greet my friends. And then, when we got bigger, I remember rushing to the movie theaters to meet them again. Every year we were a little bit older, a little bit wiser. But we always had another year together…

Until now.

Because today is the day I will view my very last Harry Potter movie.

I know, I know – you can laugh at me. I give you full permission. It’s a little bit odd to love book characters so much, isn’t it?

But the truth is… when Harry Potter was 11, I was 11. When Harry Potter was 14, I was 14. We grew up together! I don’t know all the spells and I would probably fail at intense Harry Potter trivia. Never the less, the series certainly means something to me.

In middle school, my family would sit around the kitchen or gather in bed and read these books aloud. At that age, it was the ONLY book in my recollection we ever read aloud (besides the Bible and The Night Before Christmas, which are two very hefty literary references).

Most of my generation, as well as every other age group, loves these books. The pages are full of adventure, a hint of romance, and provide vast worlds to jump into with an ever-present good vs. evil spin. You get to know the characters as if they were actual pals that age with you over a seven-year timeline. And reading the books as they were released was true excitement.

So today is bittersweet.

I have tickets to see the advanced screening of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 in Union Square at 7pm. My roommate scored the passes from work and generously invited me!

That also means my longest running series if officially at its end. Harry, Ron, Hermione and a slew of others will forever part ways with us tonight. That’s a lot for a fan to take in. What if I cry? Dang that’d be embarrassing.

But luckily, my own story will go on, and more great friends shall be found. This epic narrative will not be forgotten, though some celebrated tales have yet to be discovered. My childhood… my last remaining strings of adolescents… might be over.

"But to live will be an awfully great adventure."

Did I just quote Peter Pan?

Shoot.

July in New York City

Guys, I know it’s been a while. I haven’t forgotten about you and there are still hundreds of stories to tell. But lately I’ve been…

So.

Exceedingly.

Busy.

I don’t quite understand when it happened, but these last few weeks have been filled to the brim with work and (let’s be honest) maybe a little fun. Throw in the 4th of July as well as a quick beach trip, and you’ve got one unavailable writer.

Speaking of the beach… can I just tell you how burned I am as I type this? Then again I suppose that’s the final outcome of a redhead going to the shore with a Dominican and a Filipino.

May I simply update you on the goings-on’s in NYC and then give it to you in story format later? Because I’ve really got some people who want me to upload Facebook pics and a cover letter that needs revamping…

First, the 4th of July was fabulous. I explored Coney Island with Ivy, watched the annual hotdog-eating contest (as seen on ESPN) and then hopped back over to Manhattan for a late afternoon picnic with the Jersey boys and a posse of people. We stayed late into the evening, witnessing fireworks sprinkle across the Hudson’s sky.

My first beach trip of the season – I know, how horrible it’s only the first? – was a little piece of heaven. None of us could stop saying how happy we were to be near water, soaking up sun, and just relaxing. I don’t even think I cracked my book; I just wanted to sit and swim.

Of course, as mentioned before, my back looks ridiculous and this morning I woke up slightly sick and dehydrated. Never the less, it was worth every lazy moment.

In between these little occasions, I’ve been working away. Bloomies had back-to-back sales, and the magazine was buzzing as editors pieced together final layouts for shipping. I ran around the office like a crazy person with product call-ins and toy manuals coming out of my ears.

Too bad I loved every minute of it.

Enough chitchat. Promise I’ll tell you a story soon. Here are some pics to go along the narrative of the last several days…

Hotdog-eating contest at Coney Island.

On the beach near the rides. Crazy crowded.

Classic carnival.

July 4th picnic on the pier.

Jersey boys in the city.

Waiting for the fireworks.We had to get there 5 hours early to guarantee a seat!

Totally worth it. Hudson fireworks, on the westside of the island.

Long Beach one hot Sunday.

The pier and such. Most aspects of Long Beach were similar to Virginia Beach.

Ending the night with some ice cream.

In Case You Missed It

In case you missed it... I have two new article on Parents Magazine's "Goody Blog." One is about eating dirt (yes, fo real), while the other focuses on the gender-neutral preschool debate.

In case you missed it... Martha Stewart Living's Family Blog is currently posting their "60 Days of Summer" throughout the next two months. You may or may not know who wrote them all...

In case you missed it... The woman at Dunkin' Donuts officially knows my summer beverage of choice (small iced coffee, with milk and sugar). She makes me very happy and I hope she's aware of that fact.

In case you missed it... I would like a dog. But I'm poor and would be deemed a bad mother under current circumstances (i.e. - When am I home for more than just dinner or sleep??)

In case you missed it... New York is sweltering again. AC units are back, blasting the sticky air with what little defenses they maintain, and utility bills soar upon arrival of an annual heatwave that wraps the city in a suffocating blanket. But we won't complain - not too much. Because we were here in winter too... and let's not even go there.

Incase you missed it... I fell in love the New York in the summer time, and I am still just as enamored as ever.

Keep New York Weird

The city was bursting with people this weekend and almost on the cusp of explosion during certain subway rides or inside particular restaurants. Between the Gay Pride Parade in the West Village, the Hope and Possibilities Race in Central Park, and the typical summer tourism, we were at full capacity.

This meant Bloomingdale’s Saturday shoppers were exceptionally hostile, snapping and biting like a pack of wild dogs. Train rides were cramped, even in off hours, and Broadway evolved into a “no walk zone.” Never the less, late nights were enjoyed and Sunday brunches were appreciated.

But there was one detail about this weekend that quite a few of us noticed by our own accounts, and then collectively agreed upon: New York was…well... weird. I stumbled into several situations that ranged from downright odd, to completely intriguing.

Here’s a photo list of some of this weekend events:

In the subway... can you find me?

This was some sort of transvestite fest in Tompkins Square Park with possible "spirit believers." Yeah, I don't know.

We found this "pi" compass in front of each subway stop throughout Soho. What does it mean? I wish I could tell you.

This is pretty cool. Pick up that phone and start dialing, because behind the back wall is an entrance to a speak easy. It's located inside an old hotdog shop, and a definite on my list of places I must go.

Costumes in the East Village. Lions, brides, unicorns - we saw it all.

Oh blast, I believe he forgot his trousers!

However weird you are New York, you're still my beautiful city.

The Importance of Being Curious

I want to take you somewhere. Today we shall travel to…. well, just keep reading.

Part of the pleasure of living in New York is enjoying the hidden gems of this cultural capital, and whether planed or accidental, you do indeed stumble upon many a treasure. With free afternoons, the occasional “happy hour” is attended. With free evenings, you’ll find some cheap pub with complimentary food. And with a rare, entire day off? Well that’s when an adventure truly takes form.

I’ve wondered quite frequently around the city, constantly curious of what’s along the next street, behind the next door, down the next block… and luckily, the majority of my friends seem to share a similar love of the unknown.

“What about a winery tour in Brooklyn?” I asked Ivy as she lay sprawled out on my couch. “That might be fun,” she said, sitting up and stealing a look at my computer.

I had “Time Out New York’s” freebie section on my browser. Neither of us wanted to spend more than $5 over the course of tomorrow– and we were defiantly eating bagels in the morning. So that left our budget at about $2.25…

Yes, something free would probably be best.

We arrived at the winery half and hour too early, so we decided to stroll around Williamsburg, Brooklyn. As we turned a corner, Ivy spotted tents in the distance. And do you know what tents mean?

Street festivals.

We happened to discover a craft fair with hundreds of vendors situated in a circle around a large soccer field. Spectators watched the game, hopped between tents, and ate frozen icy drinks. Children milled about, and the occasional stray ball bounced into a group of (mostly) un - irritable adults. There had to be over 1,000 people in the area.

Our day was already delightful, and we hadn’t even stepped into the winery yet. But our romance with the establishment was almost immediate. The space included 4 main areas for guest and a wine making section behind closed doors. The guide/bar tender showed us the process of how to bottle wine by hand and where the liquids chill in barrels. It wasn’t a long tour and it wasn’t anything flashy, but the organic, do-it-yourself feel of the place was enchanting.


Ivy and I perused the connecting rooms, taking pictures and imaging ourselves visiting again during one swanky night out in Brooklyn. Even though only a few lingering people were hanging about the area, I could picture the bar full. Patrons would be mingling about, dressed in everything from jeans and a tee to stylish black dresses. While the lights would be dim indoors, the courtyard’s overhead illumination would twinkle like fireflies as guest ordered wine on tap.

But I’m getting ahead of myself, and falling into some imaginative world.

Which means...

We’ll simply have to go back. So who’s in?

Ode to One Long Week

This summer is all about movement and long hours,

But this was one of those weeks when you need super powers.
Between a paying job and my internship,
I’ve typically been working 60 hours a week without quit.

Monday began not bad at all,

Except for one very annoying call.
“Yea, I bought that and I bought this,
But the girl didn’t give me a receipt - and I’m pissed!”

“Well mam,” I say in a positive way,
“We can not take that item back today.
You have no recipe, credit card, or bill,
So your request is one we can not fulfill.”

The yelling and shouting and moaning began,
Making me pull the phone away with my hand.
We all know she stole the clothing or switched the tags,
Because she changed her story twice and her product knowledge lags.

At the end of the night, I really want to go home.
But the subway train stops and lets out a groan.
“We are stuck, so passengers change to another train!”
I think to myself “this is the biggest freakin’ pain…”

Tuesday is a new day, which begins well.
And at my internship, I feel like I’m doing just swell.
But then that night, I’m at Bloomies till 10.
Which means I’ve worked a 13-hour day… again.

See usually we close up the store at 9.
So I get home before 11, which is fine.
But because of a sale this week I’ve been getting out late,
And by the end of today, that’s something I really hate.

Thank goodness this 65-hour week is almost at an end.
Then I’ll be able to sleep and eat normally again!
And I’ll kill the cockroach I found in my room,
I’ll do my laundry and trash, and even use a broom.

Despite all this whining I bet that you see,
I truly am exceedingly happy.
I’m busy and running through the thrilling summer air.
And even with work, I really just don’t care.

You see, summer time is when I fell in love with New York City,
And anything less than exuberance would be such a pity.
So I will smile at work without even making a dime,
Because I know that night, the city will be mine.

Flowers blooming in Washington Square Park.

He's Why I Slept on the Couch

I think there’s a cockroach in my printer.

After flipping on the light switch in my room, a horrifying scuttle arose from the darkness. The paper in my printer fluttered as something unknown disappeared into the machine’s mouth.

It’s hot. My face is sweating, and the apartment feels 25 degrees warmer than the outside temperature. But I’m frozen in my tracks, starring at the printer with a shoe in my right hand.

Haven’t I been in this position before?

Thinking back to my first experiences as a New Yorker, I definitely recall standing in my room, starring at inanimate objects hiding possible critters. I would simultaneously be praying that a bug would appear from behind the lamp so I could kill it… and that no bug would appear at all.

Because I really didn’t have the guts to kill it.

Let’s see. There were two cockroaches in my room that lost their lives. There was also the one that got away. I had two water bug scares (and if you’ve never seen a New York water bug, your missing one hellish creature). We’ve had several little guys in our kitchen, and I know my roommate has spotted at least one in her room.

So there have been a good amount of bugs.

But that makes the possible cockroach currently sitting in my printer no less scary.

I have this terrifying image of John Paul all tucked away from sight, hiding on my desk. Then I’ll turn off my lights, and John Paul will slowly pop his head out of my printer, watching me… always watching…

Then I’ll get ready for bed and lay on top of my comforter (because it’s too hot to sleep under it). He’ll skillfully scurry down my chair and onto the hardwood floor. Next, he will pause for a few moments and catch his breath. But I just KNOW what he’ll do next…

John Paul will then climb…or fly!... up to where I’m sleeping. And I’m quite sure he’ll want to snuggle. In fact he’ll probably climb right on top of me. Suddenly I’ll wake up with a fright, and scream, “something is not right!” only to notice a huge cockroach chilling on my bed. OR WORSE! What would I do if he attempted to climb in my ear!!!! I know that happens! If John Paul climbed in my ear – I would die. I’m pretty sure I would simply die.

Thus, tonight I will sleep in the scorching heat with my headphones on and my Bear Bear over my face. If I can’t see him, he can’t see me! That’s the rule, right? So John Paul, you might be in my printer but you won’t win. One day or another, I’ll get you. I have a decent track record – so watch out!

Or maybe there never was a John Paul. Maybe nothing is hiding in my printer. Maybe I will just tell myself this…

Or maybe I will turn the printer on.

Hehehe… Goodnight John Paul…

Do you see the antennae?!?!

First National Byline

I know it’s only a blog. But it’s a nationally known blog. I know it’s not real print. But it’s based off a real print magazine. I know I’m only an intern – but as it turns out, interns can write too my friends.

So I was quite excited when my first article was published on Parents Magazine’s “Goody Blog” last week.

YES! An actual magazine with an actual blog, giving me… an actual byline. There was none of this published “by the editors” or published “by the staff.” Nope. Britney FREAKING Fitzgerald wrote an article, and then took credit for it. And what a gratifying feeling that was…

So what did I write about? The news? Maybe something baby related? A product recall, or a story about a mother fighting to rid her child of the dreaded, teeth-ruining pacifier?

Nope again.

I wrote about hummus.

Hey. Rule #3: Stick to what you know. And okay, so the article was kind of assigned. But I took great joy in sampling hummus dishes and thinking of adjectives for this refreshing chickpea treat.

If you haven’t already visited Parents Magazine’s blog, click here.
P.S. – A huge thanks to everyone who commented, liked, re-tweeted, or simply read my article. This is a short and sweet post, but your efforts really do mean a lot to me. Thank you again for always taking the time to read my work… even if you don’t like hummus.

Look at those guys, before they got all famous and such.