Spotted at Lincoln Center . . You Know You Love It

Spotted at Lincoln Center - Serena van der Woodsen. The Little Nolita Lady called me, breathless with excitement. XXOO, kids.

It Takes A Village

It takes a village . . . to raise a Meow.

We needed a cat sitter for the Meow while we're home in Houston for the holidays. So I put up a sign in the basement offering $30 to anyone who would come visit the cat and feed her a few times while we are gone.

FOUR people in the building called and offered to take care of the cat - FOR FREE!

Whoever said New Yorkers were a mean lot was wrong.

The Doorman Dilemma

It is the season of giving - giving tips to Doorment and Super's, I mean. We had heard about this tradition of annual giving to those folks who help you out each year. And what a great idea! Saves you from having to dig in your pockets each time someone does something nice for you.

While the sentiment is certainly very clear, the reality of how to go about giving the tips is not. Do they get pooled together? How much is enough? If I don't give enough, will I get bad service the rest of the year?

It's a big question, and a big deal for these guys. If each one of my doormen gets an average of $50 from each resident in my building, that's $3000. The doormen in the West Side Beauty's building stand to make $5000 for their efforts.

I tried to find some guides to tipping, but I mostly asked around. The consensus was to give a range of $25 to $50 depending on how much interaction you had with them throughout the year, and how helpful they were.

Still, we spent a lot of time thinking and talking about how to handle this whole thing. It's another of those unique New York rites of passage.

O Christmas Tree

So it's our first Christmas season in our neighborhood, and the most magical thing is happening. Overnight, small enclaves of Christmas tree vendors have appeared on a number of streets. They've got small trees, tabletop size, perfect for small New York apartments. They've got large trees, for the wealthy and rent controlled who have large apartments. And wreaths and garland for the festive who don't want to commit to an arboreal display. I LOVE walking by and inhaling the scent of pine; it's the smell of Christmas really.

On Sunday, it's supposed to snow, and I'm planning to pull a "When Harry Met Sally" move.

NOOO! Not that one! Dirty mind.

I plan to recreate the scene where she drags the Christmas tree down the block in the snow. In fact, I'm waiting UNTIL it snows, just to be more festive.

Then, The Boy and Lady Lawhorn are going to help me trim the tree, and I'm going to make wassail and christmas cookies. Jealous?

New York Perceptions from the Lady Lawhorn

My sister, the Lady Lawhorn, is still visiting and has had enough time to notice several new and different New York ideosyncracies:

1. Excessive honking. She hates it! All the cabby and limo drivers are OBSESSED with honking. Even if there is really no reason for it.

2. Walking strategy. The objective in New York is never to stop. So if you get the "walking man", it makes sense to cross the street and meander your path in order that you never half to slow down. Even for a second. Sprinting in front of a cab is preferred in order to shave a mere milisecond off your travel time.

3. No Dr. Pepper.

4. Plain Baked Potato. When she ordered a baked potato, they brought it plain, with no butter, cheese, bacon bits, or sour cream. When Lady Lawhorn asked for some cheese, the waitress acted like SHE was the crazy one. Who wants to eat a plain baked potato? What's the point?

Please Don't Hurt Me

What is going on? Isn't the holiday season supposed to bring out the best in folks? Yesterday, two women on my subway sparred verbally for 10 minutes. "You don't TOUCH me, honey." If one of them hadn't finally exited the train, I think they might have wrestled on the floor, pulling hair and spitting. Then today, I crossed my legs as I was watching Mad Men on my Ipod Nano, and then I heard it. A low growl eminating from the woman next to me. "Don't. You. Ever. Touch. Me. Again," she clipped. Her eyes looked crazy. Apparently I had grazed her knee with my foot when I changed positions. I mean BARELY grazed. I didn't even feel it! But I said I was sorry. What i really wanted to say was, "If you don't like being jostled around by humanity on your way to work, maybe you should buy a car and drive in." Instead, I moved to a different seat at the next stop, and gave her a look of huffy defiance. Like she cared. But if she had had a fork, I'm pretty sure she would have stabbed me with it.

The Sisterhood of the Traveling . . . sister

I am elated to have my baby sister visiting. It will make Thanksgiving even more thankful.

Saturday Night Fever

The Boy and I partied like real New Yorkers on Saturday night, as guests of The Lovely Miss M's birthday party at The Delancey on the Lower East Side. The Lovely Miss M celebrated a quarter of a century, while The Boy whooped it up for two score. It was great to see everyone dressed up, and awesome to go to a real New York party at a night club. Fast Fingers Yang kicked it off with Patron shots for everyone. The Boy sewed up the evening by finagling my coat from coat check after he misplaced the ticket during the night. His fast thinking ensured I was warm for the cab ride home!

Dealbreaker?

Seen on the Subway: Man wearing surgical gloves. Why? Is he a germophobe? A surgeon in a hurry? A serial killer? If you got set up on a blind date and the guy showed up wearing surgical gloves, would that be a dealbreaker?

Spotted on the Upper East Side

New York's financial elite - including Diva D, the West Side Beauty, the Little Nolita Lady, Fast Fingers Yang, the Lovely Miss M, the Dashing Duo and the Debonaire Daddy - slinking to the home of The Boy and his Texas Lady for a night of Fashion and Gossip. The Lady Lawhorn made a special appearance as well.

Fummer

The Little Nolita Lady has coined a new term - Fummer. That's Fall Summer, which is what we've been experiencing the last few weeks due to the warm temperatures and humidity. All the warm dampness in the air is making my face break out. I call it the Fummer Bummer.

Not So Free Samples

Experienced my first sample sale adventure today with my friend the Diva-D. A sample sale isn't a sale of the tiny clothes they make for models like I thought. It is actually clothes of all sizes that weren't sold out in stores--and they are usually 50% to 75% off! So when Diva-D mentioned she was going to the Chaiken and Elie Tahari sample sales after work today, I was in.

Time was of the essence, she scolded me, as I loped along. I had to channel my inner New Yorker for this shopping trip. (For my guerilla shopper inspiration, I thought of my Mom).

Sample sales aren't just racks in the back of nice stores, like the sale rack at the back of Banana, either. They are located in nondescript office buildings, usually on the second floor or above. When you reach the space, the first thing they ask you to do is check your bag. Then you walk into a huge room with different types of clothes on racks and signs listing the price of each type of item.

Along with the other shoppers in the room, you are hunting, not gathering, looking for that one great deal you can brag about at parties. Once you've collected your prey, you're whisked to a draped off area to try it all on. No separate dressing rooms. Just a big open space, some hooks, a few large mirrors and lots of flesh and age inappropriate underwear.

I didn't find any steals, but the show was great. Tons of cool, stylish people watching. And, Diva-D brought me a size 2 dress to try on because she thought I could fit into it. Awww. Love you, D!

Underworld

One of the charming things about New York is the restaurant basement bathroom. In Houston, of course, there are no basements, and the restaurant bathroom is just around the corner. But in New York, the restaurant bathroom is often down a nondescript staircase in a dark corridor. Most times, the basement bathroom is just as uninviting as any. But sometimes the virture of that extra space means an unexpected bathroom oasis.

Birthday Over And Out

Perfect birthday week:
o New Macbook
o Surprise Sister Visit
o Pizza
o Jogging around the reservoir
o Brunch with eggs and big BOWLS of coffee
o Shoe Shopping!
o Great gifts wraped in love from Houston
o Dinner at Nobu
o Celebrity sighting (Benjamin Bratt)
o Team birthday lunch
o Tarts from Once Upon A Tart

You Say Tomato . . .

The Boy, The Dainty Drug Dealer and I were at a diner. The Dainty Drug Dealer asks for some salsa for her omelette. They bring her a glass of selzer and lemon. Priceless.

1 Year Anniversary/Happy Birthday

It's easy to keep track of the anniversary of my move to New York. I flew up the weekend before my birthday and started my new job ON my birthday. I remember that even though I was excited, it was all a bit overwhelming. I was wicked sick, away from my family, displaced, and The Boy wasn't here yet to share the challenges. There was no celebration, no cake, no special dinner. As birthday's go, it was a bit of a bust.

So this year was a HUGE improvement. First of all, The Boy is here and that makes everything better. Second, we have our own place. Third, my sister the Dainty Drug Dealer came to visit! And it was a surprise! The Boy told me his friend from college was coming in unexpectedly, and we had to pick him up at the airport at 1 am because his flight was delayed. I had NO IDEA that something else might be going on. Both my sisters, the Dainty Drug Dealer and The Lawhorn, had cooked up more than one scheme to push me off the trail of their deception. After a near slip and a great recovery by The Lawhorn, the Dainty Drug Dealer even called me up crying with shame about how she didn't even consider coming to visit me for my birthday. I bought it all--hook, line and sinker. No idea at all!

So it was super swell to pull up to the airport and see my sister's smiling face rather than one of The Boy's stinky friends.

Plus, I received some rather handsome gifts.

But the best gift is family. Awww.

No turning back now . . .

I "surrendered" my Texas driver's license and now hold a valid New York State driver's license. I also got a new cell phone with a new New York phone number. These changes feel significant. Next month it will be one year since I arrived.

Our New Kitchen

Dig our new kitchen with the rockin' glass tile back wall!

The Gross Whisperer

Walking to the subway after work today, a guy passed me. As he did so, he whispered "sexy lady." Wha?

Tuck and Roll

Our moms recently paid us a visit. We spent several action packed days acting like tourists - visiting the Statue of Liberty, Canal Street, Times Square and such. It's times like that when you really come to appreciate public transportation and the tranquil adventure of exploring the city on foot.

Of course, it also has its drawbacks - ill-fitting shoes can make even a short trip a painful one. And if you aren't used to it, sheer exhaustion simply takes over. The optimistic assurance from the leader, "It's just a few more blocks!" might make you cry. During our first months here, The Boy and I fought exhaustion each and every night. After our mobile commute, we had no additional energy left over.

But the commute can be fraught with other dangers. The West Side Beauty recently found this out when we were walking along the West Side Highway running/jogging/biking path on our way to the gym. An oncoming cyclist zigged and zagged, yelled something incomprehensible, and FWUMP! He took out The West Side Beauty and they both came crashing to the ground.

He, without a helmet, no less, began to berate her. Unapologetic and indignent, he tore into her as she struggled to get off the ground. Unapologetic and indignent, I tore back. "YOU are responsible for controlling your bike around pedestrians! YOU are responsible for keeping your line! It was your fault you ran into her. Now get out of here! And next time, wear a helmet!"

He didn't say another word as he rolled away. Unfortunately for The West Side Beauty, the road took another bite out of her a couple of weeks later. On her way to work, fresh and looking lovely, her shoe got caught in the cuff of her pants as she descended the stairs that cross the West Side Highway to our office. Ass over teakettle she flew, and this time the road won. Hobbled and bleeding, she strode into work. It was no way to start the day.

So yes, whiling away the time strolling through Greenwich Village is great. Just remember to tuck and roll if you make a mistep.