Big City Living

I’ve Peaked – My Macy’s Parade Fantasy Come True

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I’ve peaked. There’s nowhere to go but down. I have achieved my life goal at age 31 and it’s only downhill from here. Why get engaged? Why get married? Why have kids? I already have enough Facebook likes for the entirety of my life. I was in the Macy’s Parade.
There is only one reason to set the alarm for 4:30 am on a day where you don’t have work, and that’s the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. I should revise that last sentence. I didn’t have to work at my typical 9-5, but I did have a very important job to do: Clowning Around! As you may have read two weeks ago in my equally-as-thrilled blog post, I was a Viking Clown in the parade. If you are still wondering how I got the gig, check out my last blog post.
I know that what you really want to know are my stream of consciousness thoughts during the best day of my life, so you’re in luck. Here we go:

4:30 am: My alarm went off. I proceeded to be very confused because it was 100% dark out and my emoji-bf was still fast asleep. He is ALWAYS up before me. But like a normal hum

an, he was sleeping in on his day off. I am not a normal human. When I finally realized why my alarm had gone off, I rocketed out of bed to get ready. IT WAS PARADE DAY!!!

4:32 am: I brushed my teeth while scrolling through my phone furiously. I successfully went to bed at 11:30 pm the night before the parade (a full 5 hours of sleep!). While I slept, my phone started to blow up with good luck wishes by text, Instagram DM and Facebook comments. Obviously, I had posted about the parade before I went to sleep, and everyone wanted a piece of the action. Duh.

4:34 am: I attempted to write people back via text message, and then remembered it was still before 5 am and thought better of it.

4:36 am: I contemplated making eggs for breakfast, but instead ate half of a chicken cutlet from the fridge (no time for microwaving!), and I definitely did NOT drink any coffee or water. Remember this for later.

4:40 am: I began layering. I wore 5 layers. A sports bra (a lot of walking was to be done!), a long sleeved thermal shirt, another long-sleeved shirt, a down running vest, and another down vest. And that was just on top. I also wore multiple layers on my legs. And my feet. Then I started to pack my stuff in my pockets. ID necessary to get into the costuming hotel, a granola bar in case my half of a cold chicken cutlet wouldn’t cut it (spoiler alert: granola bar was needed), 4 sets of hand warmers, and of course a portable cell phone charger and cord. So many photos to take!

5:05 am: (yes, it took me 25 minutes to put on clothes) I tried to go to the bathroom for the 5th time. I lamented forgetting to buy Depends because even with no coffee or water, I knew I would probably have to pee.

5:10 am: I walked to the subway. It was much colder than I thought it would be. Just kidding, it was just as cold as I knew it would be. 16 degrees. Woah.

5:45 am: I arrived at the New Yorker Hotel, where I saw a HUGE line of people wrapped around the entrance. I got in line, thinking I would definitely freeze before I even got my makeup on. I tried to chat with the people around me. The guy behind me in line was the Elf on a Shelf. I tried to find him later on TV but all I saw was the balloon. You think he *WAS* the balloon???

5:50 am: A guy came to try and warm up the crowd. A fluffer, of sorts. He asked us if we were excited. Then he told us all to take our lassos out and wave them around our heads to show our excitement. Then he said, “Knock Knock” Us: “Who’s there?” Him: “Yah” Us: “Yah-hoo!” He got all of us. With our lassos in the air. It did make us laugh and warm us up a bit.

5:52 am: A guy asked for anyone with a 5:45 call time and took us to the front of the line and into the hotel! Yay! Warmth! We scanned our tickets and I followed signs to the clown staging area. There were balloon handlers, banner holders, etc, and they each had different areas.

5:55 am – 6:25 am: I put on my costume. Yes, this took 30 minutes. AGAIN. Each type of clown had a helper to explain which costume pieces went where. This was not as self-explanatory as you may have thought. There were an additional 3 layers that were somehow supposed to go over the 5 layers I was already wearing. There were leggings to go over my 3 pairs of pants, and then fur-leg-warmers that had to go on top of those. I took my shoes off and put them back on 3 times because I kept forgetting parts. If you think it’s difficult getting up off the floor, try doing it in 7 layers of clothes. It’s no small feat. After I finally was completely dressed with my wig cap on, and with promises that my makeup artist would be able to help me fit my ear warmers under my wig so they wouldn’t show (and so I wouldn’t freeze), I went on to the makeup line.

6:30 am: MAKEUP! This was incredible. There were rows and rows of makeup artists, with number paddles like in line at Trader Joes. My makeup artist told me she had been doing makeup for the Parade for 22 years! She said, “I live for this day.” And I was like “ME TOO GURL.” We were a match made in heaven. She told me that each clown used to have different makeup, which was more fun and creative for her, but now it was streamlined and all of the clowns had the same makeup. Then she asked if I wanted to do my own eye makeup after she asked if I had contact lenses (I do). I told her “NAH, I want the professional to do my makeup even if it means sacrificing my eyes forever.” She was hesitant but she did it. All was good, though. And she let me take a few selfies as we went along. Sure enough, she helped fit my ear muffs under my wig-hat, and then I was off to the buses!

6:45 am: We boarded the buses waiting outside for us and started uptown. I was surprised the streets weren’t closed, we were just traveling with normal traffic uptown. Thankfully there is very little traffic at 6:50 am on Thanksgiving morning, and we made it up to 80th street by 7 am. While I was on the bus, my sister texted me that she was bundled up and on her way to watch the parade with my brother! Thankfully, they were running a little late (7 am is LATE to get a good spot) so the timing was perfect for me to meet them at my bus stop! We took 3 minutes to chat and take photos, and then they went on their way to find a spot. Thankfully, again, since it was 16 degrees (maybe not “thankfully”), there were less people out early to watch, so my siblings got a GREAT spot!

6:55 am: I made my way to “Clown Corner #1” which is where I was supposed to meet my other clown comrades. Along the way, I took photos of some balloon handlers getting in formation and having team meetings. Also, SO MANY PEOPLE wanted a photo of me – balloon handlers, police officers, even other clowns! The Viking costume was definitely the most involved of the costumes. I mean, I had a massive golden boob corset, yarn braids and a shield. Come on.

7-9 am: We waited. And tried to stay warm. Things I did to try and stay warm:

  • Run in place. Thankfully I was wearing sneakers. And 3 pairs of socks.
  • Use hand warmers. I had 2 in each of my gloves. I also put some in my golden corset. In hindsight, I wished I had put some in my shoes.
  • Stalked Al Roker. Really though. Every year, I scream to him about how much I love him. He usually returns these advances with a smile and a wave. This year I was very close to him when I declared my love for him. And I was in a Viking outfit. He did not return this advance with a smile and a wave. I think I scared poor Al. Why doesn’t he remember me!?
  • Went to the port-o-potty. It makes a person warm to try and take off and put back on 7 layers of clothes in a small space. This was probably the grossest part of the morning. I kept my shield and other accessories outside.
  • Took a lot of photos. A lot. And boomerangs.

9:00 am: THE PARADE BEGAN! I was in the 8th clown group, which was pretty close to the beginning. I was very excited about that at this point because I was starting to lose feeling in my toes. I did get a foot cramp while I waited, probably a result of my willful dehydration as preparation for no bathrooms. Luckily my foot uncramped just in time for me to scream and take a selfie with John Legend as his float traveled past us, and then it was go-time!

9:20 am: “Viking Clowns, you can JOIN THE PARADE!” It was finally time. I clowned around like the best version of myself for more than an hour. I saw my brother and sister uptown around 75th street, and they took (terrible) photos of me, and I got to wave and scream Happy Thanksgiving to millions of people along the parade route. We were strategically positioned after the How to Train Your Dragon Toothless Dragon balloon, and the James Madison University marching band. This was amazing placement because the poor band played the entire parade! It gave us something to dance and sing along to as we spread Thanksgiving cheer to the crowds.

It was definitely cold, but as I ran and skipped and marched down the parade route, high-fiving everyone along the way, I started to get warm. VERY warm. Keep in mind, I was running miles while wearing 7 layers and a Viking hat/wig. At around mile 2, I gave my hand warmers to some very appreciative spectators. Then, I wiped the sweat off of my brow from under my Viking hat, being incredibly careful not to smudge my makeup. Spoiler alert: I definitely smudged my makeup.

There were a lot of Ohio State fans along the route because their band was in the parade as well, and as a diehard Florida Gator fan, I was not a huge fan of all of the red and white. I did see about 6 people along the route with Gator gear on, and I was sure to scream “GO GATORS” to them. It may be the first time they heard that from a Viking!

A longtime family friend was watching the parade and had let me know where she was standing, so I looked for her and she screamed to me and we found each other! We even took a selfie. I also saw my best friend’s extended family, and her cousin took the funniest video of me ever. You can see me just doin’ my clown thang in the background for seconds until the incessant screaming of my name made another Viking Clown motion for me to come over. It’s such a funny video because it does show me in my element.

10:20 am: We reached 38th Street and came to a stop. Little known fact: There were no kids in the parade this year. I know you are all thinking I am lying because you saw them on TV, but the reality is, it was too cold. They didn’t allow the kids to be on the floats, and they loaded them on at 35th street for a 1-block ride through Herald Square! It was definitely a good decision but created a bit of a logistical nightmare for families in the parade whose parents went uptown while they left their kids down at 35th street.

Anyway, we waited while Macy’s staff collected our confetti plastic bags (no plastic on TV!) and we took our final handfuls of confetti to throw in fistfuls in our hands. (I also stuffed a handful into my golden corset. I made sure not to reach in there on TV LOL.)

Then, we waited just out of Herald Square while we listened to John Legend “sing” and it was finally our turn!! I made the career-ending mistake of interacting with the actual people in the stands, instead of going to the south side of the street to be on camera. Therefore, no matter what all of you amazing fa+ns may have thought, you did not actually see me on TV. Thankfully, my makeup artist did my makeup the exact same as every other makeup artist, so I looked eerily similar to the 2 seconds of Viking Clowns they actually showed. But no, it was not me. Sigh.

10:40 am: All of us Viking clown high-fived each other for a clown-job-well-done, and walked back to the New Yorker hotel to give back our costumes. We took an awesome photo in a deserted, closed-off street on the way, and posed with a few more spectators. Then most clowns went to the makeup-removal-room. BUT NOT THIS CLOWN. I wore that fantastic makeup all the way back home. And let me tell you, NOTHING phases a New Yorker. I didn’t get a single strange look.

WILL THERE BE A NEXT YEAR!? Will Al Roker recognize me, and my lifelong dream will happen TWICE IN ONE DAY?? Stay tuned, I’ll keep you posted.
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Big City Living

I’m In the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade!!!

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You may remember my obsession with the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. If you were following my blog, you definitely do. I wrote about it three times last year, which is 3 times more than any normal New Yorker. I set aside my “I’m too cool for all touristy things” self for Thanksgiving, and I muster all of the #IBelieve I have in me every year for the main event. I have experienced the parade in almost every way: I have watched in Herald Square, I have watched as a baby, I have watched on TV from Florida, I have watched as a full adult screaming on the side of the street, and, I have watched in the uptown grand stand when I miraculously scored those tickets three years ago.

But this year, I am going to be IN THE PARADE. AS A VIKING CLOWN! That’s right, I HAVE PEAKED. When I found out I made it into the parade, I told my boss I was done working for the day, and I knew nothing better would happen to me all year so I should probably just leave. Luckily, he likes me, so he took it in stride. Also, I think he thought I was kidding. I was not. I posted on Facebook two days in a row and I got the most amount of likes on a status since I graduated law school (RIP).

Anyway, let’s roll it back… how did I get to be in the parade? Have you ever wondered where all of those clowns come from? They come from the stores and from the headquarters! They are employees! I tried for years to be in the parade, but it’s tricky because you need to work for Macy’s or Bloomingdales, and I don’t. Despite having 4 careers in my short 31 years on this earth, I have never been lucky enough to score a job that gets me a gig in the parade. Thankfully though, I have friends who are generous, AND who are Bloomies employees! Specifically, I have a friend, Dani, who was in the parade 2 years ago, and who I have been bugging for 2 full years to get me into the parade. She is a great friend. Not only because it actually WORKED but also because she is still my friend even after all of this bugging.

She entered me in the lottery over the summer, and since she was already in the parade, I think she got precedence and her sponsorship went through! (There will be a lot of exclamation marks in this post, #SorryNotSorry, I’m V excited.) Supposedly, being a balloon handler (the ones who hold those massive balloons) is a very coveted, high-ranking job. I did not get that one. My sister did it two years ago, though! Read my other blogs about it. Anyway, I scored the gig of being a clown! This is extra fun because there is no manual labor involved. Basically, I just have to smile, throw confetti, and walk 3 miles from the Natural History Museum down to Herald Square spreading Thanksgiving/Christmas cheer. And the craziest part is, it is a completely random assignment, and I happened to be assigned to the one clown that has BRAIDS! You guys must remember my new obsession with braiding. Braid in Manhattan, in a parade in Manhattan in BRAIDS! It is kismet.

Check out that get-up!

In case one wants extra training to be a clown, they have a college just for that: Clown U. Not that I necessarily felt I needed clown education, but I absolutely wanted to partake in everything Macy’s had to offer me. So, despite my slammin’ hangover from the Halloween Pub Crawl the day before, I walked the 7 blocks to the Big Apple Circus, and I got my clown on. There were balloons and Macy’s stuff everywhere. Also, I got a Macy’s Parade beanie! There’s nothing I love more than free swag. Especially when it’s parade-related.

At Clown U, we were introduced to all of the clown groups, I got to meet my clown captain (yes, that’s a thing), and I got to meet 5 of my other co-clowns (clown-colleagues? Clowneagues?). I saw what my costume will look like in living-color, and I was excited to find that there’s a full-on studded bra involved. Also, we received training from some top-notch clowns. One of them was hoisted into the air as she taught us about the different “levels” of screaming “Happy Thanksgiving!” There’s level 1, for the people along the street who maybe are afraid of clowns, and also still half asleep. Then there’s level 2, for the people 4 or 5 rows back in the crowd, and then there’s level 3, a scream of joy that reaches all the way up 30 stories to the rich folks watching from their apartments along Central Park West. Those weren’t exactly her instructions, but you get the picture. Anyway, we laughed, yelled, and clowned around for a few hours. Then, it was over. I got some much-needed hangover food, and I started the countdown to Thanksgiving!

I can’t believe it is THIS WEEK that my dream will come true! Watch for me as a Viking Clown, I will be somewhere in the parade, although I won’t know my exact place until the morning of! My call time is at 5:45 am. Thankfully I have 5 layers of viking gear because it’s supposed to be 23 degrees (feels like 14!) See you on the street, or on TV!! Obviously, I will write another post about my time before, during and after the parade, in step by step fashion, but until then, HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!! (That was a level 3.)

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Big City Living, Long Legs and other Personal Problems

Living the New York Nightmare – Bed Bugs

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When you think of the New York nightmare, many things may come to mind: Losing your monthly MetroCard the day after you buy it, being late to an interview and the next train is in 16 minutes, going into the hottest subway car without AC in mid-August, moving to a great apartment in Williamsburg and finding out the next day that the L is going to stop running there for 7 months to a year… and those are all just nightmares related to the subway! But everyone can agree that the absolute worst fear of every New York Resident is one, four-millimeter insect: the bed bug.

First, a history. A few weeks ago, my sweet emoji boyfriend got a bug bite on his wrist. He decided it was different than any other bug bite because it itched so much. So in the middle of a work day, he texted me “I think we have bed bugs.” I have a visceral fear of any bug, not to mention the ones that may live inside my bed, so of course, I FREAKED OUT. I told him he should never mention the B-word again, especially when I was at work and there was nothing I could do about. I also told him that he only had one bug bite on his arm and he needed to “take a chill pill” and realize it was probably a mosquito bite. (I’m a very sweet and kind girlfriend, clearly.) Emoji-bf checked the bed, and he found nothing.

Fast-forward five days, he woke up and he had three bug bites, one of which was on the top of his leg, where his boxers cover. He INSISTED now that we had bed bugs. I was definitely more swayed, since bed bugs tend to bite in a line*, and now he had more than one. (*Sidenote: I know more about bed bugs now, like their biting pattern, than I EVER wanted to know.) At this point, I was sufficiently scared, and I texted the super to get the exterminator in the house. The exterminator came, took apart the bed, turned the couch upside-down, and found nothing.

My bf was pissed and itchy, though. So, we switched the sheets to be safe. We threw out our rug in the bedroom after shaking it out into the bathtub and finding nothing. We took our down comforter to the dry cleaners. We got bed bug glue traps. We got supersonic plug-in bug killers. We got a massive bug trapper with black light. But still… nothing. And I mean NOTHING. I made him check the traps every day because I was terrified of seeing one, and there was not a single one.

Fast-forward 2 days, let me set the scene. Sunday morning, 6 am. I woke up because every light was on our room. I heard my bf packing a bag, throwing things in from his closet.

Me, sleepily: “Are you running away from home?”

Him, strangely: “No, I just figured I would go shower at Equinox, and go to my office.”

Me, confused: “You do know it’s Sunday?”

Him, still strangely: “Yes, um, I’ll be back later.”

Me, very tired: “Ok, well if you’re going to keep the lights on, can you get me an eye mask? I don’t have to be up for 2 more hours.”

Him, hesitantly holding the eye mask and not giving it to me: “Well… I’m not sure if I should tell you this or not but… I found one. I found a bed bug.”

Me, jumping out of bed: “Are you sure? Where? Are you really sure? What did it look like? How many? Are you SURE?”

Him: “Yes, I’m sure. It was ON me. And I got a video. Incontrovertible evidence.”

Me: “That’s a big word for a Sunday morning at 6 am. But let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Well guys, it was Sunday, so unfortunately that meant the exterminators don’t work. Fun fact. But I felt like I had been evicted from my home. I packed a bag for the day, and went with Emoji-bf to his office to wait until I had to teach my Spin class. Then I carefully taught my class and did not put my belongings near anyone or touch anything besides my own bike. I felt like I had an STD. I finished class and began texting and telling anyone I had come in contact with in the previous two weeks, or anyone who had contact with my house. My bf group-texted my super and me with the video of the bug, which I refused to watch. I mentally prepared myself for weeks and months of sleep filled with bug nightmares. I evacuated my house and walked around Central Park for hours. I walked 30,769 steps that day. That’s 14 miles. But who’s counting?

Beautiful view, terrible circumstances.

Thankfully, our super lives in the apartment below us, and he was equally as terrified as we were. He insisted that the exterminator checked on Friday and found nothing. And we insisted that we believed him, but also directed him to watch the video of incontrovertible evidence. Our super directed us to put every piece of fabric: bedding, curtains, towels, pillows, sheets, clothing, into plastic bags and to seal them. He gave us 40 bags, and we used them all.

At first, I think my bf took the video just to prove the existence of the bug to me, but it came in handy. The super made an appointment for an exterminator for the next day, at which time I showed the video yet again (without ever watching it, still terrified), and he confirmed that it was, in fact, a bed bug. ONE. SINGULAR. BUG. Again, he insisted that he had been there on Friday and had not seen anything, but “better safe than sorry.” I cannot tell you how many times I have uttered that phrase in the past two weeks. “Do we need to worry about our shoes?” “Better safe than sorry!” “Should we throw out our hangers?” “Better safe than sorry!” “Do we need to spray our electronics?” “Can’t do that, but you should vacuum any small openings just in case.” “Better safe than sorry!”

The exterminator answered my questions for approximately 45 minutes, and then proceeded to put on a massive HAZMAT-type suit to begin the spraying process. I wish I took a photo of him, but it seemed weird. He kept trying to tell me stories of “worse situations” he had seen, and I kept cutting him off. Example:

Exterminator: “This one time, I was at a house with a massive infestation (worst word ever when hearing BB stories) and when I took the mattress off…”

Me: “PLEASE STOP FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I BELIEVE YOU BUT I DON’T WANT TO KNOW.”

Anyway, he sprayed the house and instructed us not to come back for at least 4 hours. “6 hours if you can, better safe than sorry!”

I didn’t come back for 10 hours. That night, our super kept the laundry room open for us overnight so we could run every fabric in our house through the dryer. He let us do it at night because we could use all of the machines, and also because he didn’t want anyone else in the building to know about the bug and cause mass hysteria.

*Fun Bed Bug Fact!* They don’t die in water, but they die in heat. You must high-heat or steam everything to kill them. We did so much drying and plastic bag carrying. We learned the perfect way to open plastic bags directly into dryers to make sure that no bed bugs fall on the floor. Then we re-bagged everything into NEW plastic bags, because the exterminator was coming BACK! A second, bonus round of spraying was included in our “treatment” for a week later. We were told to separate one bag each of clothes we would need for the next two weeks, and to keep the other things sealed in bags until the ordeal was over so we didn’t have to re-dry everything a second time. We finally finished at 1 am, and thankfully, my bf had gotten us a hotel room on the next block because I couldn’t stand one more day without sleep. Then again, who knows if hotel beds in NYC are any better, bed-bug-wise…

SO. MUCH. LAUNDRY. (and note the Amazon Now bags full of detergent.

2 weeks later, I can say with absolute certainty that I have NEVER done so much laundry in my LIFE. In fact, as I sit here in my living room on my laptop that came out of a sealed trash bag, looking at the remaining 4 plastic bags of things that I haven’t put away yet because I am waiting for our new hangers to come from Amazon, I can tell you that I have never experienced anything so terrible. I am sitting on my couch in a tank top, fearing for my arms and fearing that there may be any bugs left. Every night, I go to sleep fearing that maybe there was one more. Maybe it was hiding. We bought special bed bug protectors that we zipped our mattress and box spring in and we zip-tied them shut. I have changed our sheets 5 times in the past 2.5 weeks. I am still working on putting clothes back in my dresser from bags, boxes, and laundry bags.

Did I mention the best part??? THE EXTERMINATOR DIDN’T FIND ANY OTHER BUGS. NONE. THERE WAS JUST ONE. He told me when he first came to the house that it was “very common” for there to be one or two and no more, but, “better safe than sorry!” He said you can pick one up on clothes from buses, trains, subways, taxis, Ubers, movie theaters, or from other people rubbing against you. He said it could come from anyone, you, your spouse, your friends, your cleaning lady. He said it could come from bags put on the floor, bags put near other bags, from luggage, from airports or from hotels. Basically, NO ONE IS SAFE AND NOWHERE IS SAFE. And if that doesn’t make you fear for your life and the safety of your home, I don’t know what will. If you guys wake up with nightmares of bed bugs tomorrow, let me know. And take some solace in the fact that I probably woke up from them as well.

Sleep Tight, DON’T LET THE BED BUGS BITE!

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Miscellaneous

MoviePass is a Pain in the Ass

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How many emails do you have in your inbox from Mitch Lowe?? If your answer is “0” or “who the heck is Mitch Lowe?” then I guarantee you are not a Moviepass subscriber. I know that because my inbox is FILLED with emails from him. In fact, at this rate, I’ll have to upgrade my google storage. Mitch Lowe is the CEO of the now-infamous Moviepass, and he has been spamming subscribers with emails weekly (or more) with changes to the plan, making it more and more of a hassle.

If you have been living under a rock, here is some history. Moviepass is a subscription service where you pay a certain amount per month, which allows you to see movies in the movie theatre. It used to be that $9.99/month got you unlimited movies. The one caveat was that not all movie theatres participated. But most did. Now, things have changed drastically.

When the company started, there was much speculation about the staying power of a company that seemed to hemorrhage money. After all, a regular movie ticket in New York costs $18; it seemed too good to be true! Someone had to be losing money. And sure enough, somebody was: Moviepass. Ultimately, they lost so much money the app literally stopped working. On July 26th, they went SO bankrupt that their app wass inoperable, and they borrowed $6 million from investment firm Hudson Bay Capital Management to “turn it back on.”

https://twitter.com/MoviePass/status/1022643819043532800

But did Moviepass give up? NOPE. Many articles online were published speculating about the end of the service, calling the new changes to its services a “going out of business sale,” or wondering just HOW low the stock prices needed to drop before Mitch Lowe and his company Helios and Matheson gave up.

As of the writing of this blog post, it still refuses to die. But it officially sucks. They have decided to keep the company operable and continue to take money from subscribers, but the difference is… there are no movies you can see on it anymore! It is actually a genius idea. Moviepass has subscribers paying for a monthly service that basically provides nothing!

The first change came with “ticket verification.” This was where they required you to take a photo of your ticket stub and upload it to the app. They said this was to avoid fraud, but I had an inkling that it was just for them to test the waters as to what kind of changes people would put up with. Then came the movie caps: 3/month for your subscription instead of unlimited. This still seemed reasonable, especially the way ticket prices were in New York. However, it did make people wonder how they could just change the terms. Turns out everyone agreed to basically any change in terms in the small print. SURPRISE!! The third change came in the introduction of a tiered plan, where you could pay more for more movies. Then they introduced “peak pricing.” Then they decided only CERTAIN movies would be available. But you didn’t know which ones, and you couldn’t be sure when, since it only showed movies for a certain day on the day of. There was no planning ahead.

Now, they have a whole different thing going on, where certain movies are offered in the morning, but by the time the theaters actually open, they have disappeared from the app. This is extra funny because the way the app works, you need to check in to the movie, and then purchase the ticket within 30 minutes. This new trick of theirs makes this impossible, as the movies have disappeared from the app within 30 minutes of the theater opening! I have no idea why they would do this. Advertising money? Providing extra frustration for customers hoping they will jump ship to another movie subscription service? I am clueless. All I know is, it is frustrating AF.

There are other companies popping up with alternatives to Moviepass, which look better by the day. There is AMC Stubs A-List, which offers unlimited movies (including IMAX!) and e-ticketing options in advance, but it’s twice as expensive and only good at AMC theaters. Then there is Sinemia, which is $10-$15/month, depending on how many movies you want to see. If you want to avoid a hassle, I would definitely say to switch. However, $20/month for movies is $240/year, which is a steep price! Also, if you are locked into an annual plan with Moviepass, you might be SOL like me.

I signed up for Moviepass through Costco, which was offering a $79/year annual pass. It seems crazy that I signed up for a year and they continued to change the plan on me! Actually, even Moviepass wasn’t sure at first if they could do it. At first, they continued to offer unlimited movies to annual subscribers, and they did not apply peak pricing. But then they said FUCK IT WE ARE SCREWING THEM ALL! And they did. As of today, there are 11 movies showing at the theater near my house, and only 2 of them are available on Moviepass. And of course it’s the shitty ones.

As an annual subscriber through Costco, there is an option to cancel my membership in the next 3 days, before August 31, for a refund. Costco is providing full refunds for anybody that cancels and is holding MoviePass funds in escrow/threatening legal action for changed/cancelled plans. I am strongly considering this, since the hassle is not worth it anymore. There are still movies I would like to see, but Sinemia seems like a much calmer way to do it.

And in the meantime, if I see one more email in my inbox from Mitch Lowe… Nevermind, I don’t know what I can do, there are no options! I did see 30 movies in 7 months for $79 though, so… whatevs. I should probably stop complaining.

The page from my bullet journal of all the movies I’ve seen… look at all those check marks!

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Big City Living, Long Legs and other Personal Problems

Sprained in the City

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I am 3 weeks post-ankle-sprain, and I am hoping to run my FINAL race of the 9+1 this Saturday. It has been a very long road to recovery, and I have not passed the proverbial finish line yet. Recovering from an injury in New York City has its own set of unique obstacles, just like being Sick in the City. Specifically, it’s an issue because we are required to be on our feet walking everywhere we go. Accordingly, it is more difficult to recover, and more difficult to live a normal life. I compiled a short list of my gimp-difficulties below.

  • STAIRS. Y’all, I never realized how many stairs I do in a day. Ok, I guess I did realize because my fitbit tells me, but it’s a LOT!! This particular injury made it relatively feasible to go UP stairs, but nearly impossible to go DOWN. I dare you to attempt taking the stairs down to the subway by slowly walking down each stair with both feet, and holding onto the railing, in rush hour. I have heard some nasty comments in my 8 years in New York, but nothing like when you get in the way of a person trying to run for the subway. Particularly when you appear to be a young, healthy person.
  • STANDING. There is a lot of standing. Especially when waiting for the subway. As you probably know from either the news, or personal experience, or my multiple blogs complaining about the MTA, the trains in New York are in unusually terrible shape, and it is common to wait 10-12 minutes for a train, especially at night. When standing is difficult, and the subway walls are covered in all sorts of bodily fluids, it becomes necessary to balance on one leg for long periods of time. Great balance work, but also V annoying.
  • SUBWAY BALANCING. This is an offshoot of the previous bullet point, but it is not common for a person to give up their seat for a seemingly healthy young person. Therefore, you must stand, or in my case, balance on one leg. I have found a few tricks for this, like for example, facing the direction the train is going, instead of sideways. My forward-backward balance is better on one leg. Also, I’m always ready to lose my balance a few times. I’m ready to receive more ugly looks and comments directed at my gimp self. #ShitHappens #ShittyPeopleHappen #NewYorkProblems
  • HEAT! This week has cooled down a bit, but last week’s triple-digit temperatures did NOT help my healing. The hotter it was, the more my ankle swelled and became more uncomfortable. No amount of icing helps when you leave your apartment and enter the almighty depths of Hades, right outside your front door.
  • RUNNING. I know what you’re thinking: “Why are you running if your ankle is busted?” I’m not talking about running for exercise, I’m talking about running out of necessity. Again, I didn’t realize how often I did this until I was unable to. There’s the quick “oh shit, I’m in the crosswalk and a cab is going to run me over if I don’t shuffle faster” run, or there’s the “I’m going to miss the bus that is one block away and then I’ll have to wait 20 more minutes” run. There is a lot of mandatory running.

Basically, it’s super hard to live in a city that never sleeps and never stops running when you’re unable to run. Here’s hoping I don’t fall in another pothole in the near future. Meanwhile, I hope you had stock in CVS because I have purchased at least 4 ankle braces from there. Am I missing anything on this list?

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Big City Living, Long Legs and other Personal Problems

Oops I Sprained It Again

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That’s right, I’m a gimp. Again. Some of you may remember my unfortunate ankle sprains right around the time I began this blog. It coincided (extremely unfortunately) with my very first half marathon. It was approximately 18 months ago. I had been completely free and clear of sprains until now! WAHHH.

You probably assume I was doing some sort of crazy exercise when I sprained it, like jumping on Spiderbands that were suspended from the ceiling or something. But no, I was walking. On my own two feet. And before you ask me the most offensive question, like emoji-bf did when I first told him, NO, I was not on my phone when it happened. My phone was actually in my pocket! This was doubly lucky because I get to tell everyone that “no, I am not careless, I am just clumsy,” and it’s also lucky because I fell completely on the ground and my phone probably would have shattered if I had dropped it.

I was casually walking on my way from work to the subway to go teach two classes at the gym. I looked left and right to cross the street (112th street on the west side), and unfortunately, I was too busy looking for crazy New York drivers to look down at the crazy New York streets. There was a huge pot hole in the crosswalk. I learned a very important lesson: potholes are not just dangerous for cars.

I fell to the ground and 3 people stopped for me, including a dad holding his two little sons’ hands. As I was falling, watching my fitness goals and dreams blow up before me in slow-motion, of course I screamed “SHIT!!!” I looked up to try and hobble out of the street before I was run over by a car, and I spotted the dad and his kids and I apologized for my curse words. The dad kept asking if I was ok and said his kids had heard worse. I’m sure that’s true; it’s New York, they probably heard worse just that morning. I was in a LOT of pain. I felt tears stinging at my eyes but I knew I couldn’t cry in front of these kids. One of them had a cast on his wrist already, so I just hoped my ankle wasn’t broken like him and tried to hop to the sidewalk.

After many rounds of “I swear I’m fine” as I blinked back tears and hopped down the street, I walked into a Famiglia Pizzeria and asked for a bag of ice. I was on my way to the gym, which meant I knew I had a good hour to ice my ankle on the subway. As luck would have it, the only other person in the pizzeria was an NYPD officer. He saw me standing flamingo-style on one leg and he looked down at my ankle. His eyebrows flew up to his hairline as he saw the swollen ankle and he asked if he should call me an ambulance. I adamantly said no (although it would have probably gotten me to the gym faster than the MTA), and then he asked if he could “take a look at my ankle.” I told him no thanks, because the last thing I wanted was a stranger touching it. I could barely touch it myself. He asked me where I was headed, and when I told him “the gym,” he looked at me like I was crazy and decided I was beyond help.

I double wrapped a plastic bag full of ice, hopped down the two flights of stairs to the subway, and iced my ankle all the way to Brooklyn. The hard part, of course, was that I was supposed to then teach two fitness classes. My first class was Spinning, where I sat on the saddle of the bike, and propped my ankle on the handlebars on top of a bag of ice. I barked orders at my class for a full hour on the microphone, while trying to numb my pain. It was the first spin class I ever sat through without breaking a sweat. One of my regulars told me it was one of the hardest classes I ever taught. I guess I’m mean when I’m in excruciating pain.

The next class was supposed to be kickboxing. LOL. Considering I couldn’t even stand, I was definitely not jumping or kicking anything. I set up interval stations around the room and told them what exercises to do, for 1 minute on, 30 seconds off. I finished the classes with 5 minutes of core work on our backs (I could do this!) and then I had to ask for help to get me off the floor. Pretty comical.

Having a sprained ankle in New York comes with a unique set of problems, since I am constantly required to be walking and standing to get around in the city. I am in the middle of compiling a list of Sprankle Problems. Stay tuned. For now, here are a few awesomely gnarly photos of my cankle. Enjoy.

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Big City Living, Long Legs and other Personal Problems

Subway Dwellers

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Recently, there have been so many problems with the MTA and public transit that I don’t even feel like talking about it anymore. Check my twitter, it’s littered with tweets about the terrible trains. Examples:

https://twitter.com/LongLegsBigCity/status/1022229438333939713

https://twitter.com/LongLegsBigCity/status/1014131211869057024

Also, if you missed my post about the non-air-conditioned subway of death, check it out. Anyway, enough about the actual trains, for today, I’d like to talk about the PEOPLE I hate on the subway and in the subway station. I try not to do too many “list” posts, but it is required here. This is in no way an exhaustive list; I hate a lot more people.

  • People who don’t know how to use a Metrocard. Fine, I hate tourists, you caught me. But is it really that hard? Not too fast, not too slow, swipe it just right. It’s like the Goldilocks of the metrocard swipe. And for those of you who swipe the card with the magnetic strip up?? I have no words. Have you ever used a credit card? A debit card? A food stamps card? What good will it do if the magnetic strip is NOT IN THE READER?! If you tried twice and you haven’t figured it out, step out of the way, I’ve got places to be!
  • People asking for money. I could do a whole post on this one, but I’ll start with my least two favorite categories:
    • Special category of hatred: SHOWTIME. We know it, we’ve seen it; even the MTA has ads that try to combat these juvenile hooligans that believe the subway is their training center for acrobatics. I happen to like my eyes. Both of them. My nose too. I’d like to keep them intact, and your flying cartwheels are making me think I will not keep them that way.
    • Special category of hatred: man with a drum. This guy pulls out a massive drum, sets it on the floor and starts to retell some long history of drumming. Do I care? No. Has the long history changed since last week? Also no. Here’s the main problem with this particular busker, the drum is LOUD and it shakes the ground! I am here trying to read after a 12 hour day and I really do not need to have my head literally pulsating with each of his drum beats.
  • People who put a cigarette behind their ear the minute the train pulls into the station. I do not need to see that advertised. Also, you’re a bad influence for the children. There are a lot more fun ways to die than self-induced lung cancer via cigarettes. Is it that difficult to wait 2 full minutes until you exit the train and go up the stairs? Or will it take you 4 minutes to ascend due to decreased lung capacity? Either way, just wait. And while you’re at it, pull up an old D.A.R.E. commercial on Youtube.
  • Manspreaders. You have something between your legs. We get it. 
  • Smelly People. Do I really need to elaborate here? Shower and WEAR DEODORANT. It’s really that simple. Obviously I know there is nothing you can do about sweating. It’s 100+ degrees outside. It happens. But please do the rest of your fellow commuters a favor and shower daily. It should be a prerequisite before the subway turnstile. Not sure who would want the job of sniffer enforcer though…
  • People who try to get into the subway car before letting people out. I know, I know, you don’t want to miss your train. But where do you think you’re going to stand if you don’t let people off? Common courtesy here. And here’s a little known fact: they actually won’t leave the station if you’re still boarding the train. This is not Japan. Calm down.
  • People with baby strollers that are so large I can fit in them. Y’all. I am 5’11” and I should not be able to fit in your stroller. If your baby needs a stroller, they should be small enough that your stroller need not take up half of the car. If you can afford a $3,000 baby-mobile/miniature car, then grab a cab. Did you run out of money buying the stroller? Then trade it in. I hear ebay has a great black market.
  • People whose loose hair touches me. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. I have literally offered someone a hair tie before. It is JULY for god’s sake. Please, just tie it up. I am so happy for you that you took your biotin and niacin and your hair is silky smooth, but GET IT OFF OF ME. It is sticking to my sweaty arms and that is not fun for either of us.

That is my non-exhaustive list for now. I have many more people I hate, it depends on the day. Do you have any other particular categories you’d like to hear my thoughts on? Let me know below in the comments.

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Miscellaneous

Ikea Delivery Service, XPO, Is THE WORST

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Good Morning Blog-Subscribers! How was your day yesterday? Was it sunny? Was it cloudy? Did you do lots of cool things? I’d love to tell you how the day was here in New York City but I can’t. Because I was homebound for 9 hours thanks to Ikea’s delivery service, XPO. THEY. ARE. THE. WORST.

I don’t generally use my blog to complain about things unless it really irks me to my core. Example: Soulcycle. But one of the things I hate the MOST in this world is wasting time. I am a born multi-tasker. You may know this since I have a full-time job, a part-time side-hustle, I upkeep 3 Instagram accounts, braid 2-3 people’s hair/day and post on two twitters. The twitter upkeep I don’t do so well. Anyway, as you can see, I am a busy person. I don’t have time to sit around and waste, especially not when I am paying someone specifically to not waste my time. I think I aged 50 years waiting for this delivery.

Let’s start at the beginning, on July 9th, I ordered one dresser. Since I hate wasting time, I decided to pay Ikea to deliver it instead of trekking to the store. Also, I don’t have a car #NewYorkCityProblems. Delivery was scheduled for July 19th. On the 19th, they didn’t deliver. Why? Well, they said it was because I wasn’t home. Here’s the problem with that: I HAVE A DOORMAN. WHO WAS THERE! It would be one thing if Ikea had a “no delivering to doormen” policy, but they never said that. Also, I know for a fact that they do not have this policy because they have delivered to my doorman before. In April. Of this year. But whatever. They didn’t deliver so I had to go online and reschedule the delivery.

I rescheduled the delivery for yesterday the 24th. Already, I was upset because in the age of Amazon I am not used to waiting more than 2 days for a delivery, and I had already waited 15 days! Also, OF COURSE, the only delivery options were Monday through Friday.

The XPO website said I would receive a call with a “delivery window” the day prior to delivery. I was scared I would miss the call. Beginning at 8:30 am, I had my phone on me the entire day. Literally. I brought it in the bathroom with me. Don’t worry, I sanitized it. Do you think they called me at 9 am? 10 am? Maybe 1 pm?? NO. I tried calling the XPO number listed in the email confirmation: (888) 888-4532. Guess what? IT ISN’T IN SERVICE.  I tried looking for a direct Ikea phone number. SAME NUMBER. Fantastic. So I waited.

They didn’t call until 4:32 pm. I should have taken this as foreshadowing for the next day. Hindsight is 20-20.

They gave me a delivery window of 1-5 pm. It could literally not be any more inconvenient. It couldn’t be the morning so I could just go to work after it arrived. It couldn’t be late afternoon so I could leave work early. No, it had to be in the middle of the day so I left work at 12 noon, because god forbid they came 30 minutes early and I wasn’t there. So, I got home at 12:30. And I waited. And waited… and waited some more.

At 4:45, I still had no delivery. I decided I should probably call Ikea or XPO, in case they closed at 5 pm. I had very low expectations for them at this point. However, as I said before, none of the listed numbers were valid. But I did have the phone number they called me from the day prior!

I tried it and after 3 automated menus I got a real person! I told her my order number and she told me I had a delivery window of 1-5 pm. At this point it was 4:55. I informed her of this fact. She told me she would “check on the status” and put me on hold. And I waited… and waited.

34 minutes later (yes, this is an exact number), another woman picked up. She asked how she could help me. I was barely containing my anger at this point. I told her that I had already spoken to someone and asked her to promise not to put me on hold again. She told me she would check on my order, and SURPRISE, she told me that I had a 1-5 pm delivery window. It was 5:33. I informed her of this fact. She told me she would try to check in with the driver. True to her word, I didn’t hear any hold music but I think she put herself on mute. 4 minutes of complete silence later, she told me that my truck had “mechanical issues in the morning” and that they were running on an “extreme delay.” THIS MORNING?? I lost it.

I asked her why, if they had problems this morning, I was never informed of it before I left work. She said she didn’t know.

I asked if by “extreme delay” she meant 7 pm or 9 pm. She said, “9 pm… hopefully.”

I asked, isn’t this delivery coming from Elizabeth, NJ? She said yes. She blamed traffic. I told her that traffic will account for a 1 hour delay. Maybe 90 minutes. Not 8 hours. I told her I could WALK to the store in New Jersey faster. This is a fact, I checked on Google Maps.

I asked to speak to a supervisor. She told me she WAS a supervisor.

She told me that she could tell them to hold the delivery and deliver on another day. I hysterical evil-laughed at her. I asked her how she thought that was possibly a solution.

She told me she would call me again in an hour with an update. She did not call.

I tweeted at Ikea (multiple times). They did not reply.

https://twitter.com/LongLegsBigCity/status/1021899474942271489

https://twitter.com/LongLegsBigCity/status/1021899962697875456

7:26 pm: I get a call from an unknown number. SURPRISE it’s my delivery guy. He is “2 minutes away.” How in the world is that helpful? If I wasn’t home, I couldn’t get home in 2 minutes. And if he had the ability to be calling me, shouldn’t he have done that in the morning? Before I took off of work? I was livid.

Also, they weren’t 2 minutes away, they were 20 minutes away.

When they arrived, I tried very hard not to take my anger out on the delivery guys. It was probably not their fault. But then they asked me how my day was. I couldn’t hold it in. I told them I had a terrible day because I was homebound waiting for them, and I had to order in dinner because I couldn’t go to the grocery store. I had to miss work. One of the delivery guys tried to one-up me by saying he had been outside since 5 in the morning. To which I said, “Ok, well are you getting paid for that? Because I am specifically NOT getting paid because I am here waiting for you.” That shut him up right quick.

They brought in the boxes and left. And I fumed. And I wrote this blog. And now, I will work on my SEO for this piece, so that every person who thinks about using Ikea delivery in the future will find this in page one of their Google searches and will think twice about using XPO. They have a monopoly directly with Ikea, but you can hire someone else to pick it up AND assemble it! Use Taskrabbit! They are more reliable AND have better customer service because their business literally depends on your rating and feedback. Many of them have 5 stars.

I will also be writing to Ikea, attempting to get compensation for the HOURS of my life I will never get back. Hopefully an update will come soon. Although I do not have much hope, as I was retweeted by an account that is literally call “IKEA fucked me too.” Seems like a common problem. They even asked me to sign a petition.

 

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Miscellaneous, Travel

Sara’s Beacon Bachelorette

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This may sound unbelievable to you, but over the weekend, I went to my FIRST EVER bachelorette party! I know, I know, you’re all calling me a hypocrite since I always talk about weddings but it’s true! I am a PROFESSIONAL wedding guest but a total novice bachelorette attendee. I think this is because most of my weddings are out of state, so it is either impossible to attend both the wedding and the bachelorette, or I’m just not invited to the pre-festivities because my friends know I can’t come. In the case of last weekend, it was the opposite! The wedding is out of state, and I can’t go because I’m DOUBLE booked with weddings, and they are on the same day in different states! Since I can’t go to the actual simcha (HEBREW WORD ALERT!), I knew I needed to go to the bachelorette to shower the bride.

Even though this was my first time attending a bachelorette, and it was the least bachelorette-y bachelorette ever. Thanks to the bride-to-be, of course. She is a very low-key gal, and she insisted on no sashes, tiaras, penis necklaces, etc. When asked if we were a bachelorette party, she insisted we were just a “group of girls.” (Cue “Huge Group of Girls” below.) One of them just happened to be about to be married.

Our festivities started at Grand Central Terminal, where all great festivities begin. Clearly being facetious there, but to be honest, it’s nicer than any airport, and it’s less of a hassle because I can carry any liquids I want. Our fearless leader, aka bachelorette-organizer-extraordinaire, aka Arielle, got to Grand Central early and purchased our tickets. We were all miraculously on time, and boarded our chariot to Beacon, NY. Chariot = Metro-North Train.

There were 6 girls total, which is a great number. Not too many girls, but not too few that someone feels left out. Also, it turned out none of us knew each other too well, which was fun! I feel like I got to meet awesome new people, and since we weren’t close to begin with, there were no cliques. Arielle told me she was not a big photo-taker, so I nominated myself to be the picture-taker. I have plenty of practice thanks to this blog. (Do you know how many ice cream photos I took during #30Years30IceCreams?? More than 400.)

Anyway, after taking the obligatory train selfie, we arrived in Beacon, and grabbed a cab to our hotel. We stayed at the Roundhouse in Beacon, which was a very bougie hotel. Unfortunately I did kill a bug on our bathroom, and the sheets had questionable stains on them. But hey, we got money knocked off our bill, so #WorthIt!

We dropped our bags down, and boarded our second chariot of the day, a large black SUV! Arielle had liaised with a concierge-type service for wine-tasting, called Hudson Valley Bucket List. We had our own private driver who doubled as our Instagram-bf for the day (Shoutout Jonathan! Awesome pics!), and they took care of everything. They dropped us off first at Nostrand Vineyards, where we tasted 6 wines, and decided on two to buy to accompany our lunch. Our concierge wine tour set up an adorable pop-up picnic on the lawn behind the tasting. We had private cheese plates, bread, and sandwiches. We even had a green salad. Everything was perfect, besides the heat. But I am basically in a constant state of sweating from May-September, so I cannot blame the wine tour for that. After lunch, I didn’t think I was too drunk but… I guess I was. Because I forgot my phone. I was too busy taking pics, I guess! Double shoutout to Jonathan for turning around and getting my phone. Also triple shoutout to Jonathan, driver-extraordinaire, for having warm chocolate chip cookies for us in the car! Once we picked up my phone, we headed to the second stop: Glorie Farm Winery. This one had a much more rustic feel to it, but it was fun because it had actual grape vines we could pose with. Jonathan came in clutch with yet-another photo opp. We shared another bottle of wine and then packed back in our SUV to return to the hotel.

The original plan was to take a nap or freshen up for 2 hours before dinner. Most of us realized that if we went to sleep, we’d never wake up again, so we went to explore the town of Beacon. We left our one California girl to take a nap, since she had been awake for about 30 hours at that point. We took a (sweaty) walk down main street, looking in the shops, and had a stop at the end for ice cream at Beacon Creamery, much needed by that point. You know I love me some ice cream, especially in new places, and this one did not disappoint! They had a lot of obscure flavors, which is my favorite. I opted for Ginger-flavored ice cream, which was yummy and even had pieces of ginger in it!

We went back to the hotel, SHOWERED, and changed for dinner. Then we walked to dinner, and thankfully it had cooled down a bit. We didn’t know at the time, but that was because it was about to torrential rain. We got to dinner just in the nick of time. We ate at The Kitchen Sink, an amazing farm-to-table restaurant where everything was fresh and yummy! Props to Arielle, our organizer, for making a reservation, because multiple people were turned away! We hung out at the table, trying to wait out the rain, but eventually made a mad dash next door to a wine bar for dessert. The wine bar was… interesting. It had live music so we thought it might be raucous. But no. It was veryyy romantic. And date-y. We stuck out. We didn’t even order wine. We decided to walk back to the hotel in a light drizzle of rain. Another girl in our party had the foresight to call the hotel and ask if they could set aside dessert/coffee/tea for us, and they said they would.

When we arrived at the hotel, there was some miscommunication about the desserts, but the GM had our backs. The main bar area was closed for a wedding afterparty, but he brought us coffee and tea to a side lounge area. He apologized for the miscommunication about the desserts, but luckily we had Jonathan-warm-chocolate cookies leftover that we brought down from our room. 5 minutes later… SURPRISE, the GM found our desserts! The pastry chef had set aside macarons for us before he left for the night. They were delicious! Not as good as the chocolate cookies, but still.

FREE MACARONS!

We called it an early night (I told you it was a non-traditional bachelorette!), and woke up early-ish for breakfast in the hotel. After some frittata, I started braiding. Are you surprised? You shouldn’t be. Remember, it’s my new obsession! Our activity for the day was hiking, so we had to have our hair up and away from our face!

The hike itself was great, but HOT! The humidity was stifling, but the views were worth it. We hiked Mt. Beacon, specifically we hiked the Casino Trail. It’s named after an actual casino that burned down. The cool part is, many of the old ruins are still there and you can climb on and around them! There are also ruins from the Mount Beacon Incline Railway,  which was shut down in the 1970’s. Pretty cool. As opposed to the temperature. Unfortunately, since we had already check out of the hotel, we had to settle for a bathroom-sink-shower. You all should be lucky you were not sitting next to us on the train home. We stopped for a quick lunch at Royal Crepes, which was SO GOOD, and then took an uber back to the train station.

 

The night before the weekend, emoji boyfriend had asked me if I was excited, and I told him I was, but I was also nervous because I didn’t know anyone. Luckily, none of us really knew each other, and we all ended up as friends! One of the girls friended me on Facebook, and it turned out we had 56 friends in common! Small world. I’m totally down for another Bachelorette. Who’s next??

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Miscellaneous

Braid In Manhattan – My New Braiding Obsession

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Helloooo Blog-Readers! I have a confession to make. I spread myself too thin. I love to keep busy, but I have been TOO BUSY. Even for me. And the first thing that I gave up were my blog posts. I apologize but I will try to be better at it from now on!

So… what have I been up to?? A lot of things. But mostly, braiding. A lot of you guys probably just re-read that sentence because… what!? I know, I know, this is not a normal thing to be busy doing. But it’s true.

I started braiding hair when I was 18 and I was a camp counselor at a Jewish camp. I had a cabin of 20 girls, and all of them had a total of 3 hours to get ready for Shabbat Dinner on Friday nights. Inevitably, at least 12 of my 20 girls wanted French braids in their hair. I can remember hours of sitting on the stairs of our cabin braiding hair. By necessity, I got very fast at it. And by practice, I got fairly good at it.

As you may remember from my half-marathon training posts last year, as part of my pre-race superstitions, I also braid my own hair. What I didn’t know was, there is a whole #BraidingCommunity out there on Instagram and YouTube! It was all down the rabbit hole from then on.

About 3 months ago, I started to follow a few braiders on my longlegsbigcity Instagram account. I mostly followed the big names like MissySue, and CuteGirlsHairstyles. Soon, I began looking at hashtags and tried to replicate the braids I saw. I realized I was really good at it. I started to post pictures every once in a while of my braid creations. However, as I started to follow more and more braiding accounts, and I realized that many of my LongLegsBigCity followers probably did not want to see braids on their Instagram feed, I decided to create a brand-new Instagram, JUST FOR HAIR. I asked the Facebook Hive Mind for names for my new account, and I settled on my best friend’s suggestion: Braid in Manhattan. Like Maid in Manhattan! Get it!?

 

CHECK OUT MY BRAIDSTAGRAM! @BraidInManhattan

 

I am not a very artistic person, but I am VERY crafty. Again, something you may remember from my many DIY Halloween Costumes, including the Gum Ball Machine from last year. I found that hair braiding was an awesome craft because the result looked awesome, and the person whose hair you braided got to parade your craft around all day long! (Sometimes they can parade it around for two days, depending on the style.)

Once I created an Instagram, I truly committed to my new hobby. I quickly followed 30 braid accounts, and then followed the people they followed, etc. I really picked up my stride in the month of June, because I found an account JennisHairDays, and she was hosting a challenge with a different type of braid for every day of the month. I dove into the challenge head first. I probably knew about 50% of the braids, and I challenged myself to learn the other 50%! I successfully posted a braid every single day.

The first question people always ask me about my braiding is “how do you get good?” or “how do you know how to do it?” The answers are pretty easy: practice, and YouTube. But also, I have found that my unique skill is not really in the actual task of braiding, but in the recognition from a photo of what the braid is, and figuring it out on my own. Sometimes I cheat by using a YouTube Tutorial, but as I continue to hone my skills, I am able to look at a photo on Instagram, realize it’s a 4-strand waterfall braid with a ribbon, and replicate it quite easily!

The other question I get is: who do you braid? The main issue with my braiding obsession is finding people to braid! Most people in the #BraidingCommunity are moms who do their daughters’ hair daily. I don’t have a daughter. This presents a problem. Thankfully I have a lot of friends who are willing to be my hair models. More specifically, I have coworkers who spend 9 hours/day with me and love to be walking billboards for my styles! I usually spend half of my lunch break nowadays braiding my coworkers’ hair. I love trying out new styles, and they love having their hair done! I always tag my photos with #DeskBraiding.

Speaking of walking billboards, I am in the process of making business cards, so my walking billboards can hand out my contact information. I am also in the process of building a website, and hopefully by next homecoming and prom season, I will be available to do braided updos and make a little bit of extra cash! (New Side Hustle, anyone?) Do any of you out there need someone to do your hair? Your daughter’s? Bachelorette? Bridal shower? Wedding? I remember when I had my hair braided into a crown for Barrister’s Ball in law school and I paid $100!! I don’t plan to charge nearly that much, but even at 50% of that, I could make some nice mulah.

For now, I have been braiding completely free of charge to build my portfolio. I did my two friends’ hair for the Pride parade. I also recently did my coworker’s 11-year-old daughter’s hair for her 5th grade graduation, and she loved it! We met up at Barnes And Noble and I created a mini hair salon in the Starbucks café. I have a portable hair spray, spray wax texture spray, comb, and many many ribbons and elastics. A few weeks ago, I offered my braiding services for a friend’s church event with a panel of women, and they set up an adorable Braid Bar for me.

 

Also, last weekend I went to the Jersey Shore to a family friend’s house where I did her hair, and her daughter’s hair. At almost-4-years-old, she was my youngest-ever client! She went on my Instagram and picked out the style she wanted, plus, of COURSE the colors of elastics and ribbons. Somehow, she sat still for a full 12 minutes and it paid off! She totally LOVED her hairstyle.

I won’t FORCE you to follow my new Instagram, especially if you already follow me on 1 or 2 other accounts (I told you I’m busy!), but I do post pictures almost every single day. And I’m getting better every single day! Maybe someday I will start a YouTube channel and post tutorials, but for now I am sticking with the photos. Spread the word and help me pay off my student loans!

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