Country Sounds in the City

As I sit out here in Central Park with Gerdy, the breeze blows on a balmy August morning and waves of locusts calls carry through the trees while buzz saws eat through fallen trees from this week's hurricane-like mini storm.

It's refreshing to hear these sounds, as in my apartment, I hear mainly sirens, honking, Music with a Latin flair, and the occasional bird from a neighboring tree or stray pigeon who lands on the air conditioner.

So while sitting on this park bench, I tried to pretend that I was in my dream home country kitchen, with my coffee and laptop on an island of dark polished granite, doors open, the sunlight bouncing off of my white tile-work, and I began to feel a different kind of peace. Oddly, in my fantasy, my ears filled with the ringing sound from total silence. I started to feel alone from groups of other people. My oasis was perfect, but the buzz from buildings normally around me wasn't there. It was just trees...a thick wall of trees and maybe an occasional garbageman. The closing walls of...the burbs.

I zoomed out of my fantasy and returned to the park bench, where buildings tower along side Central Park, occasional people taking pictures of the tree damage while walking to work, baby strollers, dogs on leashes, dogs off leashes, park surveyors of said damage, homeless people who live in the park...just people who I normally never talk to, but notice.

Hence my confliction of where to move to - where to buy a home instead of dumping all of this rent into my landlord's bank account. Even though we're in a housing crisis, suddenly people all around me are buying homes. Dental Mista just bought her first 1600 square foot apartment in Lincoln Park (it's beauuuutiful...we found it for her on Craig's List!), and my very first Dog Friend from the Park, who is a teacher, just bought her second house. Yes, the first is an apartment here in the city, and now a home somewhere out of the city and they will rent the apartment out.

When Dental Mista was buying her home, she'd been looking and looking, going through so many experiences. But what became very apparent to me was that she knew exactly what she wanted. I've always been a little serendipitous, so planning like this doesn't appeal to me, however, with this kind of housing decision, it's becoming clear that if I don't know what I want, I won't move. I'll sort through these conflictions, but it's going to take some observing to figure out what to do. I love the city. But I want a house. Confliction.

Can't Sleep, Neither Can iGoogle Fox

It's 2:30am and I just can't sleep. Very unlike me. Could be due to coffee had today at noon, but unlikely. I started to install QuickBooks today in my new room which is so pleasant to be in, and I swear I keep dreaming about it. I go in and out of dreams about Brothers and Sisters and the expense and income accounts I haven't created yet in QuickBooks. So I've put some water on in my pot for chamomile tea because I still have not decided on a kettle. Maybe after all is said and done I'll find a way to go to GoodWill via subway and see what I can find, as inspired by this post.

I was also jarred a bit by a small family from our building moving their daughter back into their apartment. It's a family of women, actually, a mother and her two daughters. One daughter is a professional now, and the other was a sprightly thing who I met when I first moved into this building 5 years ago. She was a hippie child and always threw imaginary "sparklies" on me when she left the elevator. It was like saying "goodbye!" but instead she said "sparklies!"

She went to college and came back during the summers, and now she's really back, today being her graduation. And it hit me. A whole mini lifetime of 4 years passed for her while I knew her, yet my life stayed the same pace. My life has had many changes in that time, actually, but it was odd to see her life fold over those 4 years. Made me realize, yet again, how quickly time passes.

:: pause to reflect ::

Ok. So now that we've had that thought, I'm moving into constructive mode and attempting to switch my blog into the new Blogger mode, which means I will lose my sidebar and analytics code, as experienced by me on my experimental other blog.

Home | Link to this

The Tragedy of Snow

I know this is a blog about fashion, and fashion resources, and the emergence of the label Katie James, but I'm really worried about snow, and how I just don't think we're going to have it anymore. Now, FashionMista is based in New York City, and for those of you who don't live here, it really hasn't snowed. Well, it snowed once about three weeks ago, and I was still in the subway, but my co-worker had just gotten out of the subway and got to walk around in the flurries. So when I got into the office, and everyone said "It snowed!" I sarcastically said: "When, at 10:00am?" because it was about 10:10am, and sure enough, that's when it has snowed. When I was late still in the subway ten minutes prior - and for ten minutes at most.

Today is a Friday, and usually that means that I'm completely worn out and overstimulated with emails and things to do, and my brain is usually swollen with all of this overstimulation, and all I can handle is eating a juicy medium rare cheddar burger with a beer. But today it snowed when I was leaving the office at 6:30pm, and it was so lovely. I mean, it was beyond lovely. I wanted to get a Christmas tree and hang a wreath. In fact, I walked past a wreath and blessed them for being so behind in taking their Christmas decorations down. I went into Duane Reade to fill up on my usual Duane Reade type stuff like bar soap and last minute non-essential hair products that I normally do on Fridays like this, and when I left Duane Reade, it was still snowing. And the cold flakes hitting my forehead and making my black cashmere pashmina white and wet were still so wonderfully refreshing that I walked all the way down to Staples at Union Square just to compare their in-store prices to their online prices (which I think are much higher in the store).

But ever since I saw Children of Men, where all of the women become infertile after a flu outbreak in 2008 or something, and then when I pay-per-viewed An Inconvenient Truth the other night with David, I feel like I saw the future. And the future did not include snow. With the glaciers melting, and the long-ago glacier that melted to form the Great Lakes, but that ultimately stopped a major weather system between us and Great Britain, I'm going to say that I'm very scared that we will just not have snow. We will be living in a very sad Frosty the Snowman Christmas Special, when the evil man in wants his top hat from Frosty, and traps him in the Greenhouse, and Frosty begins to melt and can't stop melting. And Santa eventually saves the day, and reminds us that Frosty will be back someday, but I really don't like feeling like I'm about to enter that very potentially sad Christmas Special where the snow just won't come. I mean, what a tragedy. If any of you are writers out there, that would make a real tear-jerker of a script. Maybe I'll write it, if you don't. Keep me posted. I'll have the box of kleenex by my bed at the ready.

Home | Permalink

2007 Resolutions: Yoga Ball and Google Calendar

My resolutions for this year are all coming down to two things: a yoga ball and my Google Calendar. The yoga ball is simple. Find a place in the apartment to store it, then buy it, then sit on it and do some situps. My mom has one in her room, and over the holiday break, I did it while talking to her, and my stomach was so sore, that even my sides and back were sore. No, this out-did any stupid little situps I do on the floor after a jog, that I don't think I can ever do them again! (oh well, hehe)



As for the Google Calendar, well, I started using it last year, and let me say that I am in love with it. I deeply wish that it would zip all information into my calendar for my iBook (and maybe it can, I just don't know), but I love being regulated by those little colorful boxes, dictating when I'm busy and when I'm over booked.

David's in the other room, talking about my business plan to my mom, and how it's not complete yet. That's another part of the Resolution. It's just another world to me, the business plan. I'm more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of gal, but when people talk business plan talk to me, it's like me talking webspeak to them. I can explain search engine optimization (seo) five times to someone, and they will have no idea what I'm talking about. Same for me with the business plan, only because it's hard for me to visualize such large numbers. It's just funny to hear David explain what I seem to have to my mom. I have some financials, but now I need to match it with the writing portion, which I've started a few times. I'll just need to start it again. Onward!

Home | Permalink

Unmarried Live Togethers Discriminated Against at Christmas

Unmarried Live Togethers are facing more tough times this year, battling through tense family telephone round-robbins. Females are often the hardest hit by such situations, as for some reason, daughters can do more damage than sons. During holiday homecomings, families would prefer the co-ed existence happen off of the family homestead and exist out of site at a hotel or a family farm. In Burton. Where there are murders. See the Burton Blog for more on the false sense of security of serene Amish country (because that is where this Mista will be staying - at the family farm - if co-habitation happens over the holiday).

Bridget Jones didn't have to deal with such situations, as she just didn't live with someone (sorry, Bridget). Director Julie Taymore may have something to say, being that last I checked, she was "happily unmarried for 10 years," which by now would be happily unmarried for 13 years or so. Bridget had to deal with Smug Marrieds at dinner, and while Unmarried Live Togethers consider Joyful New Moms with Adorable (and Growing) Babies and grandparents who think they will die before seeing a marriage.

Fortunately, discrimination seems to stop at the bedroom, as this writer's boyfriend has been invited to attend the great family Men's Luncheon, where men are men and sit around predicting important things like who will win the Super Bowl and what stock NOT to short (some Mista readers will know what unfortunate male family member of mine was advised to short Google without consulting his knowledgeable granddaughter on the matter). They must have needed a strong Sports Authority figure, who in a secret life is actually a sports "color" commentator who colors the game with fun facts like which player was deserted by their father, and which was slighted for the Heisman in 1998, etc. (ok, I made up that Heisman part b/c I don't know any colorful facts and the boy is out rollerblading).

Like common highschoolers, Unmarried Live Togethers are forced to abide by parent's rule if they want to celebrate Christmas under one roof, as opposed to being shipped off to Amish country. Even if they are almost 30 or nearly 43. And like common highschoolers, sneaking around upstairs is an option taken by many. And does anyone ever consider the Grand Pets in all of this? Schlepping back and forth from Amish country to "home."

Maybe we should unionize. That would make Republican fathers really mad (most of whom have such rules in the first place, so I suspect that many of us Unmarried Live Togethers who are facing such discrimination do indeed have Republican fathers, who can join a support group I started for my dad called D.A.D - Dads Against Democrats).

Conclusion? Look for sales of Baileys and vodka to be up this season as polite daughters sweetly drown frustrations in tumblers over ice.

Home | Permalink

All Clean from Caffine

It's official. I've gone 2 straight days with no caffine, and no Advil. But I'm not gonna lie. This morning I work up with a strong urge for the tall-half-caff-one-pump-vanilla latte. Even as I write this I can smell it!!

I stopped drinking it for many reasons, and they include:

• Don't need it, I'm pretty much awake when I'm awake.
• I get the shakes if I don't eat, and then I've proven capable of consuming a bunch of brownies.
• CAFFINE WITHDRAWL HEADACHES. This was the main one. Even in TN for Thanksgiving, coffee was made, but it wasn't Starbucks, so I think it was a little weaker, and I got a withdrawal headache even after I drank it. So dumb.
• Sugar dumbs my brain, and I like my sugar in my coffee.

Shoot. This is really hard not to leave the office right now and get a red cup of Starbucks. Half the reason I like going in there is because of their super lovely graphic design on the cards, cups, napkins, etc. It's always an inspiration.

Ok, leaving to get lunch. We'll see how I do.

PS: I think this cup is Asian. It's from this blog...

Home | Permalink

Glitter Princesses, Knights of Prosperity and Tinfoil Men

Happy Halloween!

I had great ambitions to be a Goth Kitty, but when my cat mask wasn't turning into what I envisioned, and I was lacking time and resources to research and buy all things goth, so Wallgreen's became my next answer for a quick costume for...the night of our first party! So, for $5.99, I found fairy princess wings, a tiara lined with a boa, and a pink tinsled wand...and for David, a very plastic skull sword (also $5.99).

A little rummaging in the art room at home, and voila!! I became a Fairy Glitter Princess! And glittered all of my friends (and the bathroom floor, and the kitchen, and Dinah the cat). The first night of a party David was A Crazed Buckey Fan in all red Ohio State attire, including Buckey slippers. The second night, David was a bit more prosperous...

me glittering the hostess aka Poison Ivy with powdery green glitter...



Poison Ivey showered in glitter...her costume is now complete


David and the host of our second party...Knights of Prosperitaaay (tune into ABC in January for the real thing)


ahh! The Tinfoil Man!!


it's just my silly brother...(but wasn't he scary?)...he needed a quick and effective costume, and asked me: "Kate - do you think I could just put tinfoil on my head?" This reminds me of when I put a carved pumpkin on my head and wore a slinky dress one year.


Don't eat all of your candy at once! I have a pumpkin of candy here at the apartment - a left over bribe attempt from the Emerging Designer NYC Market. It was my first time being a vendor at a market...click here to learn about it!

Home | Permalink

Gone Wheatgrass Crazy

I'm crazy. I've spent all day madly alternating between two very pressing deadlines, feeling like the walls are closing in with every passing minute, and yet, I get home, beg David to cook up his Peter Luger left over steak for us, and get to work on a new and exciting Conversation. SO excited am I about this one. First of all, it will be in pink. I think. If it looks good. But it's an inspirational one.

Oh, the point of this title, is that to prepare for the day of deadline madness, I had a one-ouncer of wheatgrass from Whole Foods for lunch. I knew it would keep me going through the night, feeling fresh as a daisy to post more content...and here I type at 11:06pm, after leaving work at 9pm. For some, 9pm is not very late at all. And I commend those people. For me, 9pm just means the end of one job, and the beginning of another...

Home | Permalink