Instagram: Trees

Lately, a lot of my instagram photos have been trees. So, let the trees begin! 

Harlem, NYC

My Hurricane Sandy Experience

The day before the storm, I decided to stop by my neighborhood market. I guess everyone decided to show up too.

Be you.

Scissor Sisters / Terminal 5

Chris had a shoot for the Scissor Sisters at Terminal 5 and asked me to tag along. 

Chris!

9 months in the city

I need them to see

I had to walk to 8th avenue again. The D was running on the A track again. The rain stopped, and I also stopped to take a deep breath, filling my lungs with my favorite aroma. I love the after rain smell, the smell of the rain hitting the dry pavement.


I hung up on Francis, ending our long conversation that should be saved for the road trip. Topics like loneliness and memories shouldn't be discussed at 2 in the morning with 952 miles between us.

Once I wobbled down the stairway towards the turnstile, the D train arrived. I can't believe this normal occurrence made me so happy. The D train arrives all the time, but the fact that it came right as I entered the station makes me believe in miracles. It won't take me an hour to get home tonight.

There was a young man, I presume in his late twenties, tall, dirty blond curly hair. He reminded me of a skinnier Seth Rogen. From the corner of my eye, it looked like he was tying his shoes, or putting on his shoes. I stared ahead, and there were three other people, sleeping. I liked how they were all evenly spaced apart. I walked past the man fiddling with his shoe and sat three seats away from him. I had to make sure I was keeping with the trend of keeping a good space between me and the next passenger.

I took out my Trader Joe's bag of onion chips. I forgot to take my thirty minute break at work. I really was enjoying them until I saw the man with the shoes walking towards me. I kept munching, this time aggressively, with chips falling on my lap. I was trying to scare him off.

"Where did you get your glasses?"

Really, sir? At this time? "Korea," I said.

"I really like them. I ordered a pair like that online."

I kept eating.

"You know, I just googled the glasses place. It's probably from Korea. It looks a lot like yours."

 The train was running local and I couldn't stand having a conversation with a stranger about glasses for the next thirty minutes. I stopped eating, placed the bag in my tote bag, and smiled.

"This is 59 street," said the conductor in a whisper.

"Well, you have a good night." The man with the shoes and new glasses walked away from me, toward the opened doors.

March to May

3 moving scams you should know about-- and 10 ways to avoid getting duped

Moving apartments is up there with some of life’s biggest stressors, and even the simplest moves (say, within your own building), can cause some anxiety (so many boxes! so much stuff to pack! and where is it all going to fit once you’re there?!).

Add any amount of shadiness from your mover, and that stress can get out of control.

Here are some of the most common NYC moving scams:

• Bait and switch: A mover offers you a great estimate (it'll usually seem too good to be true--which is why it's important to get several estimates) and then ups the price when it is too late to back out (like moving day). 
• The "hostage situation": Your belongings are held hostage and the only way to get them back is to pay more money. Sometimes this con is pulled in conjunction with the bait and switch -- they can threaten to keep your things in their truck until you pay them.
• Phantom delivery: A mover will load your belongings and promise to deliver them by a certain date. But you never see the mover, or your stuff, again. 

“The best single piece of guidance is  ‘Know who you are dealing with,’” advises John Bisney, of the American Moving & Storage Association. 

Here are 10 strategies for avoiding victimhood:

1. Ask friends. The best way to find a good mover is to get a recommendation from someone you know who’s had a good experience recently (say, in the last six months or so).

2. Check the reviews. Go on sites like Yelp, Citymove, andAngie’s List and read as many reviews as possible -- both the pros and cons for balanced feedback.  You can also call the Federal Motor Carrier Safety Administration’s Safety Violation and Consumer Complaints hotline (888-368-7238) to find out if there have been any complaints filed against the moving company.

3. Always take a look at the website.  If a moving company’s website has no physical address or phone number and looks like it was made by a high schooler, it probably was. You want to find a company that has been around long enough to acquire a solid reputation and intends to stick around, so that it has a strong interest in maintaining a good reputation.

4. Make sure your mover is authorized to move you. For moves within NYC, make sure your mover is licensed to operate by the New York State Department of Transportation (for verification call 800-786-5368 or emailnymoving@fot.state.ny.us). Again, every reputable moving company will be licensed, and by law, should provide their up-to-date license information which you should find on their website. If you can pull up the record of the moving company by entering the license number at the FMCSA website, that's a big indication that the company is serious about the business. 

5. Meet your movers in person. No phone. No email. No Facebook. Meet them face-to-face so you know exactly who you will be dealing with from beginning to end. Also make sure any estimates are done in your apartment to avoid any surprises. This way, they know exactly the items that need to be moved and can give a more accurate estimate.

6. Get everything in writing. Your mover should give you this booklet outlining expectations for both of you, a handwritten estimate, an order for service (an unofficial contract listing of all the services the mover will perform including the dates your stuff will be picked up and delivered), and the bill of lading (an official contract between you and the mover that explains, among other things, the mover's responsibility for damages) at the time of loading.

 7. Do not give a deposit. If the company asks for a large, up-front deposit, run away as fast as you can. Reputable movers never ask for deposits. Rather, the agreement to pay the full charges are stated in bill of lading. Generally, you should be paying upon delivery.

8. Pick a mover that offers both fixed rate and hourly rates. This way you can compare costs depending on how big and far your move is. If you are moving from, say, the Upper West Side to Williamsburg with a large amount of items, it might be better to have a fixed rate. An hourly rate is best for those with little to move.

9. Get multiple in-home estimates. Have several companies come to your apartment to provide an estimate of how much everything will cost. There can be large ranges between different companies.

10. Make sure you understand what you're covered for if something breaks or goes missing  

The minimum coverage required by New York State law is $.30 per pound per article. For example, if a 20-pound flatscreen, valued at $1,000, were lost or damaged, the mover would be liable for no more than $6 (20 pounds x .30 cents).  Minimum coverages for interstate moves, which are federally regulated, can be found here.

The other option is to buy full replacement value protection, meaning all items that are lost, broken or damaged will be either repaired, replaced with like items, or get a cash settlement. The exact cost for full value protection may vary by mover, so be sure to ask.

You may also have the option to purchase additional insurance from a third party (like Movinginsurance.com), your own insurance agent, or an insurance broker. If you have a homeowner's insurance policy, find out whether it covers property in transit.

Ask your mover to explain the cost and various coverage options available for your particular type of move. Be sure to read your bill of lading (which sets forth the liability of the mover for loss and damage) and check off the option you prefer.  Interstate moves are regulated by the federal government which require all movers to have insurance. 

Edited by Lucy Cohen Blatter for BrickUnderground

I wanted a job but I got a haircut instead

Taken by my brother at the High Line in NYC. Why so mad!?

I decided to hold on to the sheet protector in my hand, making sure the images of Michelle Williams, Tao Okamoto and Jessica Stroup were in his sight. Thank goodness I wasn't in his shoes. I showed him three different looks because honestly I didn't know which one I wanted. I knew for sure I wanted to be able to tuck hair behind my ears (I kept stating that over and over along with the hand motions of tucking hair behind my ears) and I wanted it to still look feminine. Before the cut, I also showed him my "NO" sheet, which coincidentally were full of Asian women in their mid-40s. I should have illustrated it better with a huge X on all the images. I kept pointing at the bad sheet, and shook my head saying "No, not this. This is bad. No." He nodded, and before he started, he left for a minute and returned with a style book. He frantically flipped the pages and pointed to a sample. I gave him a look of doubt, and he took the sheet from my hand and examined it. "Okay" he nodded.

And before I knew it, he was snipping my hair. Short. And it kept getting shorter. And shorter. For some reason, when he was done, I told him to make it shorter. It wasn't a huge change for me, since I basically always have my hair tied up anyways.

My observant roommate and friend was surprised that I was rather... dull during the cut. "I thought you were going to cry." Nope. I thought I would feel lighter and clarity will overcome me. I seem to always miss the boat when it comes to epiphanies and life changing moments. I didn't feel like a brand new person. It's just hair. I just happen to currently be having short hair. Another interaction I seem to have when people first notice my hair is "That looks so good on you. What made you do it?" I'm not sure if I believe them or not, but I take the compliment anyway. My answer seems to disappoint them when I say "Thanks. Nothing. I just wanted to cut it." Typically, for girls at least, cutting more than 12 inches of your hair is done strategically and usually occurs during a great moment of transition and a need for a new start, i.e. the ever popular breakup, getting hired/fired, a death.

It shows how much I've changed. I'm still dramatic over things, but I seem to be very calm when it comes to bigger changes. The old me would have freaked out with the short hair, and plaster the message all over whatever social network that's poppin'.  I've become quite calm about such big issues, and I'm not sure if I like that or not.

However, my enthusiasm comes out when I apply for jobs. I'm passionate about my career choice and I've never been so hopeful and hopeless. I hate transitions. I can't fathom transitioning to the working world. Everyone I've spoken to just happened to fall into their careers. They never planned it. As for me, I've planned it, and I've had my eye on it since college. Doesn't this give me an advantage? Perhaps from this adventure, I'll end up somewhere unexpected and I end up loving it. For now, am I too eager? Should I apply the old advice to the singles of "Don't go looking for love, it will find you"to my job hunting? I'll wait for a job opportunity to find me and want me. Bull.

I guess in the end, cutting my hair did symbolize something. I wanted a shift in how things were. Getting short hair replaced getting a job. Good enough for me.

Spring Tease

The above photos were taken from my android phone. I'm really proud of her/him/it! Winter is over (I don't think it ever really started) and now I get to see another side of New York. No more dark toned michelin man coats, no more Hunter rain boots, and absolutely no more grim faces. Or at least less. Gosh, I'm really not in the mood to write anything decent, but I should update myself on what I have been going through. Me, me, me, me. Gross.

It's been almost five months since I left. Am I a New Yorker now? What kind of question is that? Yes, I live in New York, and I plan on making a living here. But I wouldn't claim to be anything. New York is just another city, with bigger skyscrapers and more people. That is it. I think I've gotten over talking about what this city means and just stopped talking about the city as a whole. Anywhere I am will be what ever I want it to be.

I wrote that three days ago, and now it is back in the low 50's. At least I know that Spring and Summer will be the best times here! I will welcome it with open arms.

I'll write a few quick notes about what has been happening (this is relevant for me when I read this in my 40's and wish I was still 23 and scolding my 23 year old self for being so serious.)

 - Got a pixie cut (really should write an entry on this, very comical)
-  Brother visited!
-  Fran visited (distance is making my heart grow fonder)
- Informational interview with managing editor of Seventeen Magazine headquarters at The Hearst Tower (I wouldn't mind walking in there every day!)
- Progress with the whole assistant photo editor thing (fingers and toes crossed)
- Wore shorts for the first time!
- Assisted 3 photoshoots in a week
- Finished The Hunger Games
- Watched The Hunger Games
- Starting Catching Fire aka The Hunger Games Book II
- Finally renewed my contacts prescription

I took the A train today

I took the A train today, and if you work, you know the A train going downtown is always packed. I once was lucky to walk in and find a seat by the door.  The thing with the subway in New York is that it's unpredictable. I saw the C train running on the B/D track. The A train became local all of a sudden and would only stop at certain stops. The L stopped working and I think it was because of the guy who committed suicide and splatted his guts everywhere.

I love it when I walk down the stairs and both trains come at the same time. It's one of the most beautiful things, I think. You stand there in the middle as these two trains rush by and it causes your hair to fly everywhere. I make sure to pause and enjoy that moment. When I got in the train, I barely took two steps. I found the nearest pole and held on. I never really know what to do when I'm standing. Usually I sit, look around really quickly to see how crowded the train is, then I close my eyes. You would think that I should open them and enjoy what's around me, and I agree. But I can't do that for 35 minutes. I'd look at the advertisements, which usually consists of some community college posters. My favorite is the Guggenheim one, which has been there for three months and should be taken down because the exhibit no longer exists.

I was standing there and I wasn't feeling sleepy so I kept my eyes opened. The young lady standing next to me was reading a book. I couldn't stop looking at her short blond hair. I wish there was some type of real life pinterest to collect everything I've seen that has inspired me. But I used my peripherals and I really wanted to ask her to turn around so I can look at the back of her head. Don't worry, I didn't do such a thing. But I kept glancing over. The three people who were seated in front of me all had their eyes closed. Actually, everyone seated had their eyes closed. It was awfully quiet for such a packed train. I couldn't see what stop it was and I hate it when you couldn't hear the conductor because for some season, he/she doesn't understand how to turn on the volume. I wasn't at a panic. I knew that after 59th, half the people leave the train anyway. "This is Canal. Next stop is Chambers. Stand clear of the closing doors." That's usually my cue to start walking to the door.

Central Park

The case of the heater

Here are two stories. My mother's co-worker, an immigrant from China, turned on the kitchen faucet and had no idea how to turn it off. This wasn't a fancy faucet either. But I guess she didn't have such sinks where she came from, so this contraption became her enemy, and she was not winning the battle. She ended up calling 9-1-1 because it was an emergency. Her sink was overflowing, and if she didn't stop it, her whole house would flood! The firefighters came and turned off the faucet. How? He twisted the knob to off.

Story two: This man (my father's friend who's also from a foreign land) didn't know the that red lights meant stop and green meant go, so every time the light was red, he would drive and wonder why people were honking at him.

I was shaking my head when I heard these stories. How can anyone not know how to turn off a faucet or understand that red means stop? Isn't that universal? "Give me the greenlight" means go right?  Come on, people!

And rightie tightie, leftie loosie. I've never actually typed that out, so it looks really awkward and cute at the same time. If I turn something towards the left it will loosen it and if I turn it towards the right, it will tighten it. That's exactly what I did to our heater. It started getting cold in the apartment so I tightened it because it was loose. The next day, my roommate layered up before bed (sweatpants, sweater, three blankets). Usually, he'd don his Harvard t-shirt and basketball shorts. The day after that, it was just unbearable. I walked around the apartment wrapped in a blanket, and spent the majority of my time in the kitchen or restroom because those were the two hottest spots. It was frustrating. How can our heater break? If ours is broken, that means everyone else in the building is freezing their toes off too! I went back to the source and turned the knob tighter. It was still cold. I googled and youtubed "how to fix a broken heater" but I didn't have the advance tools, and the heaters looked different from mine.

I called our super (I'm his favorite tenant).

"Yeah, it's really cold. Our heater is broken," I told him as he walked in the apartment.

"Really? It should be working. Which ones?"

I pointed to our room. "There, and in the living room."

He kneeled down and starting turning the knob towards the left. "Look, it was closed off. You have to loosen it so turn it to the left." He went to the living room and said the same thing. "It should start heating up in 20 minutes." And he left.

The poop story and how a kitty changed a life

And then there were two. Two needy, breathing mammals. Lexy came in a Zappos box and left in a legit pet carrier. This time, he, I mean she, is plumpier and I hope happier. The last four days has been hell for her and her owners. The internet said to place her in a small room with her food and litter box. We didn't want her to urinate in our bedroom. We didn't want to walk around smelling like kitten droppings so we avoided the closet. And we didn't want our brand old 50 inch television that might have the possibility of working to not work at all. Our tiny black and white restroom became her new home. After this new piece of information, we moved the litter box, her green rice to riches food container, and her furry self to the restroom, closed the door, and went about living our lives. I felt like a tiger mom punishing my daughter because she didn't take off her shoes in the house. That night,  the cat's constant meowing joined my roommate's snoring. And that continued for three nights.

"Have you seen the restroom yet?" asked my roommate one morning. I was snuggled under my comforter, ten minutes past my alarm.

"You should look," he said eagerly.

Last time the cat peed on the white towel, knocked over my tree oil face wash, and destroyed our soft  toilet paper. I knew it. She had taken down the shower curtains! I knew those plastic hooks from Ikea weren't going to last.

To my relief, the shower curtains were still hanging.

"She shitted all over the tub," my roommate said. I pulled the shower curtains open and immediately pulled them back. There were little pebbles of poop on the right side of the tub and in the middle was a fat one in a shape of a wishbone. I knew it wasn't a big deal, at least it wasn't human poop, but this was bad. Poop is poop.

I can never be a mother. We decided to split the task: I pick up the small poops and he picks up the wishbone poop. It was a fair deal because there were more small poops. There has to be a better word than poop right? It's starting to sound too cute. Poop.

And that was the end of it. I didn't want to pick up shit every day and I didn't want the white towel to turn yellow. Lastly, I was tired of having to hide our toilet paper and needing to collect the right amount of toilet paper before I sat on the toilet. The cat wasted a week's worth of toilet paper and that was the last straw.

That night, a kind lady responded to our craigslist ad (it was in the for sale section for $65, changed to $35 when no one responded, and after the poop tub incident, it moved to the free section). Her and her kids came over, met Lexy, fell in love with her, and left with her and the 3.5 pound bag of friskies cat food. Never have I ever seen a kid so happy.

In the end, I realized that I really am not a cat lady or any kind of animal lady and if kitten poop freaks me out there is no way I can handle cute baby poops. During one of my uproars, I confidently and dramatically told my roommate "Remember how we shouldn't have regrets? Well, my biggest regret is getting this cat!" and I take that back. Because of this cat, we both added happiness to a child's life. We provided this kitten with a loving home, and overall, Lexy taught me that I should be careful next time before I allow anyone/anything in my life because when I realize it isn't working, I can't post it on craigslist and have someone else fix my problem.

The List

Dear Santa,

I know we haven't met, well maybe that one time a few Christmases ago with Chloe, Fran, and Tim, but that didn't count because you didn't have your Rudolph with you. I'm assuming you still get a lot of handwritten letters, more than half is illegible and ungrammatical, so I thought I'd try it the digital way. With this, you won't need your glasses or a magnifying glass and you will instantly receive my Christmas list even though the holiday is only a few days away. You have your helpers reading random blogs right? Well if you're reading this, I guess my plan worked.

This will be the first Christmas I spend away from home. And it isn't like we do anything grand. Sometimes there's a small artificial tree, and sometimes my dad will use his artistic skills and hang the lights on the window (a few years back he had them dangling like necklaces which he admired for hours). But regardless of the absent physicality of the holiday, I had my family there.

All I want for Christmas is for my family and loved ones to have a peaceful and love-filled celebration. It might get lonely on the holidays for some, so please let them know they are never alone. Add some joy, some spontaneity, some hope, and show them a miracle? Just make sure to let them know they are loved.

I'm sure every child asks for this every year, and I think you are making progress.... it's slow but I see it coming. Let there be peace in this world. If not, let there be peace in our minds and hearts.

Now I'll give you a list of things I know you can get me. I'm on your nice list by the way. No excuses! If your talented elves can't make these in the workshop, let them know they can shop for most  of these online. Sadly, a majority of them are sold out. Make it work!

Merry Christmas, Santa. Stay jolly.

A.P.C.   Fox Fur Trim Snow Parka

Electric Mixer

 Evazan by N.Y.L.A.

 Daphnea by Boutique 9

Your favorite album/songs

Your favorite book

Leather sofa

Kitchen stools

ASOS Premium Coat With Double Lapel

 ASOS Oversized Quilted Lining Parka

Alpha Industries Faux Fur Hooded Fishtail Parka

Glove / Mitten

Beats by Dr. Dre Headphones from Monster

Michael Kors flat boot

Monthly pass NYC metrocard