May I suggest.....

Now I studied linguistics...and I earned my liberal arts degree (key word: liberal) at a crunchy West Coast university...As well I recognize that the United States does not have an official language- But, putting that all aside, I'd like to share with you:
(weak voice) "heelllo how are you?"
"well, thanks. how may i direct your call?"
(in a loud abrasive voice) "I NEED JOB!"

"okay sir, we're not hiring, thank you"
(calls back )
"hi how are you? I NEED JOB. I NEED JOB"
"Okay, sir. We're not hiring"
"I NEED JOB"
"We're not hiring"
"I NEED JOB"
"Sir, No job. No work. No Work"
"I NEED JOB"
"Bye"

Welcome to my awesome day, five days a week, 7 hrs a day

If someone is interested in obtaining a position outside of their NYC neighborhood, I would like to encourage them to consider a language school.

a weekend in CHICAGO

Dropping into detroit for a moment- I found myself perusing doggie bath robes- partially out of guilt for leaving Cuba home for the weekend -while I visited Holly and Lindsay in Chicago- I negotiated my way onto my connecting flight and revamped my buzz with a vodka/cran. Absolutely ecstatic to be with good girl friends after settling into NYC- we broke Holly and Dan's new apartment in with lovely company- jungle candids- and a dance party that I sadly missed due to my passing out. To my credit, I had had to wake up early to work and had started my boozing a bit earlier than the rest of the crowd!

The next morning, the three of us got back in our A-Game and took a long metro ride around the city to enjoy the skyline- the air was savagely chilly- even the patron controlled-heaters did no justice. We took brunch at bin 36 where we shared a cheese plate and each took a flight of four wines- I enjoyed the Portugese in particular which has a hearty blend of spice with a definite note of licorice. Holly had the pizza special- Lindsay the crepes and I the mussels with a bacon and creme sauce. I have to admit it was a deeply satisfying meal- right down to the crustiny sticks & the waiter's gorgeous turquoise ring.

We indulged in new boots, skinny jeans among other delights. We hopped into the John Hancock tower to enjoy the seemingly endless expanse of the Chicago city lights over Godiva chocolate martinis. Apres, we shuttled ourselves back to Roscoe Village to sip wine and pick out clothes for dinner. Holly's new jeans looked flawless on her- and Lindsay's new plaid jacket was completely sassy & fab. We walked a few blocks before hopping into a cab...or a car? I cannot recall- we settled on VOLO where we sipped smooth and delightful Sangria and picked out four tapas. I favored the steak tartar and the caviar with quail egg. A few bottles of wine and new friends made later...we stumbled out into the cold and found ourselves in a closer bar- Lindsay thought about sipping her beer...then ended up befriending a man of latin descent and dancing to Frank Sinatra. We fell into Holly's friend's car and woke up the next morning- sad to leave- Holly took us to the Lincoln Cafe- a completely epic collection of "civil war memorabilia" threatened the walls- tangled with a confusing- yet (eclectic? ...at best) inclusion of "modern art." The hostess had pretty much the most amazing hair I have ever seen. When I asked her if I could take my photo with her, she replied "I don't remember."

Thanks to my verbal communication skills gained from my amazing experience at PBM- I was able to negotiate a photo...

I took a few citron & soda's before my plane to Minneapolis from a charming, curvaceous southern woman who threatened to cut people off who were rooting for the Chargers. I took my seat on the plane next to the female of Mr. Rogers- turning to me she said, "I saw you and hoped I would sit next to you- you remind me of my youngest daughter." Two hours later- I discovered that this woman was a 7th day adventist- nurse practitioner- living through cancer- who loves sprouting her vegetables and drinking water to cure herself. She has three daughters and grew up in an abusive home. After her father died, her siblings and her rejoiced- and healed- she'd left her husband three times (also abusive- physically and mentally).

Furthermore she declared to me that she was a princess- her father is the king of this universe! Is that not enough for you....? She gives seminars - yes it's true. She dresses as a hooker and acts out with an imaginary Jesus- who asks her how much for her services- and then tells her he's already paid with his life. How I did it- I do not know- I sat through it- these two hours- nodding and keeping my lips sealed. When it was finally all over- I wished her well with her cancer and realized we hadn't even exchanged names. Have you ever noticed how you can talk to someone on a plane for hours and understand their entire life's trials and tribulations- and not even have the simple identity of their name?

In Minneapolis I had lunch and endured my long lay over- and delayed flight. In a strange way- I find this airport satisfying. I can't quite place it- perhaps it is how polite people are in comparison- that or listening to the same short/choppy cut ( always blond) haired bartender discuss how she can't believe those mothers would bring their babies to the monster truck rally when it's negative 25 degrees out...

DEATH OF THE IBOOK???

Last night I settled down to gingerly sip a vodka/soda and catch up on the current situation in Kenya on CNN- suddenly the pug force was upon me.She jumped at my hands and coincidently...I spilled my beverage upon the keyboard. I lunged for a towel and frantically sponged up what I could.. This morning I turned on old faithful to check the weather...J.CREW leather boots....or Burberry rain boots? My keyboard was absolutely haywire. I expressed concern to Vadim who called me out, "Did you spill something on here???" I recalled the incident to him and we began trouble shooting...it seems that I may need to invest in a new computer- covertly utilizing his NYU student discount, no?

BXL CAFE

I AM HAVING A TORRID LOVE AFFAIR with the Soupe a l’oignon gratinee, among other temptations. Enjoy a pearl plum & soda or a delicious Irish coffee- with which they put a generous portion of homemade quasi-whipped cream- a sort of creme fraiche, if you will- I'm still yet to try the mussels- but the good word is that they delightful.

Although in garish Times Square, the atmosphere achieves a satisfying comfort and attracts jovial- beer appreciating Europeans.

A demain aussi, peut-etre <3>

DRAMA IN THE SLOPE

LAST WEEKEND Vadim and I moved into our new apartment - a hop, skip & a jump deeper into Park Slope. We no longer find our location flirting with the Gowanus Canal. A little safer? Au contraire...we stepped of the F-Train around midnight last night to find the corner of 7th Ave and 9th St swarming with an impressive array cops, detectives, swat, bomb squad- and my personal favorite- firemen. The gurney was out and ready- sandwiched in between the hostage negotiations vehicles and we decided to stop and watch our tax dollars at work. (Hello 30% of my paycheck disappears). All the lights were off in the Brownstone- aside from the flickering display of Christmas lights- Check out the story.