Eclipse and Arcade Fire (yeah in the same title)

So since the last post may not have ended as happily as the rest have been I promise- no depressing thoughts today!

Last night, ohmegee, went to the midnight premiere of Eclipse with S and her aunt (and I really don't care that half of you will no longer take me seriously for the rest of my life), it was so fun! They also agree that popcorn should be mixed with m&m's and are down with sharing drinks. I think I may have found the perfect movie-going pair.

At the moment I am sitting in my *much cooler room, thanks to a slight weather change that has occurred up here, while R watches the bachelorette- not gonna lie, whoever these boys are vying after sounds like a total ditz.

Work today was a mix of slow with hectic pockets in between. Adam Levine was somewhere wandering around and I made sure I tagged him in my tweet, just in case he decided to stop by Intern Alley. Then lunch with Wil Dana etc, and more questions on McCrystal, and magazines in a digital world, and I haven't once been depressed about the future of print up here. In class they try to scare you by being as honest as possible about the risk print faces in the digital age. Whether they're trying to weed out those without passion, or convince those that have it that there is still something worth fighting I'm not sure? But I know that up here the people who are living the fight day to day, adapting and adjusting themselves with the times, are just as sure of the future of the "glossies" as they've ever been. And it's pretty inspiring.

I'm in such a different mood today than on Monday, which only confirms the ever changing range of my emotions. No matter. Driving home in the taxi last night (the first since the awful phone incident), I loved how empty the streets looked. It's rare to find empty streets in the city and that's what I normally adore. But the lonely look of it all mixed with the cool night air was haunting and beautiful and made me ache. But a good aching- a kind where you're glad you're alive.

And now, I'm making plans for Fourth and for later, laying them all out next to schedules in the fall, and I want to pause and speed ahead all at once. I'm just very... content.

Anyone care to join me on August 5th for Arcade Fire and Spoon? Buy your tickets now and come jam out at MSG with me!

-Mandy

Sylvia Plath, Central Park, and Daisy Chains

Yesterday was warm and wonderful. I did nothing. At all. There was the parade for about fifteen minutes outside in the morning, but other than that it was close to five fifteen before I exited the building heading to church at Redeemer, then to dinner with M, E, and B. And this morning I actually awoke at 10 which confirms that I actually (hallelujah!) got some rest this weekend. Then SB and I hit up the Central Park Zoo which, aside from the ridiculous heat and fish smell of the park, was extremely impressive and fun. Then while SB rented one of the boats at the pond by the statues of Hans Christian Anderson and Alice in Wonderland I sat and read on a hill overlooking the boys with the boats, vendors with their carts, and nannies with their kids. I felt cliche braiding daisies into my hair while reading Sylvia Plath in Central Park but sort of wonderful at the same time. Then the clouds let loose and rain all silver and cool dropped on me and SB as we wandered our way back to the subway and towards home. Then dinner with M (here's your shout out sweetie!) at Kimmel and an hour or so spent at Washington people watching and listening to the saxophonist by the fountain and now I'm back chilling with the roomies (holy crap they are HILARIOUS) and well, in a strange mood.

You know how I had that ear infection earlier this week. Well so far it's caused me to lose most of the hearing in my left ear, I'm pretty sure it will come back but it's a strange feeling not being able to hear out of one side of your head. Like everything your listening to, whether it's a band in the park, or your friends at lunch, or the audio from your computer, is coming from a vacuum. Sitting in the park tonight I could key in very specific conversations coming from the right of me both having to do with interns trying to make connections in the city. All I could think of was, crap I'm so far behind. Yeah, I get the whole I'm in the city for the summer and have an internship at Rolling Stone but this city is so fast, so advanced, where if you want to make it you better bust your butt and be two years ahead of the rest. I don't want to lose myself to the city, to the bustle and speed and impersonality of it all. Of course this is part of what I love about New York, the fast pace of everything here is so different from the slow and easy movement of Mississippi and the excitement, so new and seductive makes me wish I could stay here forever. But there are times, few and far between, but times still, that I feel so lost in this city of over 8 million, where I'm just so desperate to make it happen, to prove that I can make it here- proving I can make it anywhere. But without losing myself in the proving. Does that make sense?

Sorry- that wasn't exactly the most exciting or happy of posts. But this is supposed to be a documentation of my time in New York and that's where I am tonight. Good night loves from the heat and beauty of New York at night.

-Mandy

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

the parade as seen from my window

So waking up this morning was a bit of an experience. I was hot and twisted in my sheets, which is no different than any other morning here, but something was different that took a minute for my sleep clouded mind to figure out. There were bells, and whistles, and shouts, and tambourines creating quite the ruckus outside my window. What was this bevy of noise and yells? Out on the street there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter, away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and threw up- well I don't what a sash is but if there had been one I had would have thrown it up. I craned my neck, looking over to Fifth to see what this thing (such a rude awakening) was? A parade! But not just any parade, but the LGBT (or gay pride) parade was marching itself down Fifth avenue right in front of my dorm. I had to see it for myself! After a quick shower (because no one should ever have to suffer to see me before a shower) I threw on my clothes and clamored down the stairs (okay so maybe I took the elevator, but that's beside the point) and ran out to the street to find A and SB. Among the rainbowed flags, purple and silver banners, glittered drag queens, floats blasting Ricky Martin, Michael Jackson, and Kei$ha marched the thousands of New Yorkers shouting, dancing, clapping, and singing their pride for the LGBT community of the Empire State. And all I could think of was Judy Garland, pre ruby slippers, entering into the colorful and foreign world of Oz claiming the epic line, "Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore."

And now I'm sitting in my room, listening to the screams and whistles and -was that a whip?- continue outside my window realizing I'm definitely not in Mississippi anymore.

-Mandy

a day at the beach

day at coney!

a night out!

Toes in the sand, friends all around, coke in my hand. It sounds like the beginning to a Kenny Chesney song, but instead it was my day today. I'm not sure if the prediction on Sunday was a whim, or premeditated, but it has held true all week long. I don't know if it is because I willed myself to have a wonderful week, or if it just happened but it was a wonderful week. Maybe it was the realization that I finally made sitting in the subway, that I am really in New York. Maybe it was the surprise visit from old friends. Maybe it was a marvelous Friday evening on the town or a relaxing Saturday at the beach. Or maybe it was Maybelline. Just kidding, but most likely it was a combination of all that.

Last night was too fun. Dinner out and then hanging at Webster Hall (free entry!) with S, N, R, A, K, C, J, R, and S (it sounds like a subway map, but instead it was just a fun crew) equaled an excellent Friday night. I did not want to wake up this morning. But after R and I pulled ourselves from our (freshly laundered!) sheets, showered, and got dressed we went and drug the boys out of their room for a day at the beach. A, R, S, A, R, C, M and I grabbed towels, sheets, sunscreen, and bagels and headed out for the island named after a (some say) rather tasty hot dog. There was lots of laying out, french fry eating, random conversations about home and old tv shows, and jamming out to S's music. It was one of the best days in New York yet, and it wasn't even in New York. Then S split to go home, and R to have dinner with her dad, so the boys and I headed back to the dorm for some much needed food and rest. And now I'm chatting with B and laying on my bed with the fans on high trying to decide if lucky charms are a good night snack, they look extremely tempting sitting on my shelf.

-Mandy

Easy, Breezy, Beautiful

Soooo... yesterday was maybe not the greatest day due to a doctor's visit, a severe ear infection, and horse pill sized penicillin but it was exactly what I needed. After getting off work early I got to stay in and sleep! That sounds so lame, but it was so needed. Then up today around eleven and R and I hung about the village, eating lunch, getting yogurt, meeting a new friend at Washington Square, and doing a little bit of shopping. And tonight there's a huge group of us doing dinner and Webster Hall (for free!), so it's looking to be a promising start to a weekend, and I'm so glad my prediction from Sunday has stayed true- this really has been a wonderful week, even with doctors visits, etc. And tomorrow the fun will continue with a huge beach outing to Coney Island complete with iPod speakers, frisbees, footballs, bathing suits, and sun! I'll probably stray from the Coney dog this time, but seeing as how there's food from all around the world featured on the boardwalk I should be just fine for grub.

I love my days off when it's sunny with a nice breeze out and I get to wander along the alleys and streets in the village, it makes me wonder what it would have been like to grow up here, or what it would be like to live here for more than a summer. Like what if the dog in the window was mine, or the apartment with the bright red door had my name on it. The possibilities of dreams and imaginings are endless and I can only hope one day, for a period, I'll get to see what's like to be like yes, I live here.

There was a jazz band playing music in the park today, a mix of colors and sounds, but for a moment I felt as if I was in New Orleans the beat and rhythm was so familiar. A crowd had formed around the troupe and it was so fun to watch the little kids twirl and the couples sway in time to the tempo rising in the air. In the middle of the set, the clarinet player, a young white guy who was about as far different from Louis Armstrong as anyone I'd ever seen, but could play him like no other, got up and jumped in the fountain amidst swimsuited children and barelegged teens. Then shaking his head he plopped back down to play the next song, dripping water over his clarinet and smiling so big his dimples stretched across his face. I don't know what it was about that moment, but I loved it. I loved the simple easy music, the dancing among the crowd, the mix of old and young, all cultures and countries joining together to hear a little music from back in the day. Like I've been saying all week, it was a good day.

And tomorrow is Coney Island, yes!

-Mandy

P.S. Here's a shout out to my dear Georgian love, K! Told you if you looked you'd get one!

old friends and new places

So today was, in concurrence with the theme of the week, another wonderful day. (I feel like this will get really annoying to the dear blog readers soon enough and if I don't have some crazy action soon I fear you may all start reading the nutrition label on your cereal boxes instead.) However, it was (aside from a minor earache, and how extremely tough it was to uncurl from the bed this morning) a really good day.

RS was abuzz with the thrill of the McCrystal report and the fact that RS was the headliner on every major news outlet in America not to mention several media sources abroad. And if that wasn't enough to give the workday a little extra pep, the interns got to have lunch and questions with EinC Jann Wenner. The lunch was full of good food, interesting questions (I even asked one!) and full of other motivated interns, all aspiring to be journalists, artists, photographers, publicists and so much more. All I could think about as I scanned the room noting the different styles and facial expressions rocked by my fellow interns was that these are my peers. These are my competition. And staring a little closer to my left and right, to the ones I work with, these are my friends. I think the future of journalism will be just fine. We may have to adapt and change with the advent of the iPad and whatever else Steve Jobs will think up next, but we'll survive, and not only that, but thrive if there are still this many creative and dedicated people working towards enhancing and improving the art of print.

After work and a quick trip downstairs to watch the filming of White Collar, I got a welcome surprise in the form of old friends from Ole Miss. (Because I promised a shout out to them I'm skimping on the habit of just using initials for a night!) Ben and Brock came up with four more of their Hattiesburg friends (among them a few future Rebels) and as we wandered through the village eating cupcakes and catching up I couldn't help but be extremely excited to see friends from college. It definitely made me ready for next year, and it without a doubt made my day! A subway stop and a good fifteen minute trek later we were seated on the Hudson on one of the neatest restaurants (I'm not even sure if that word works in this context) I've been to in the city so far. And from the knowledge of a non-native as well (good job, Ben!). The Frying Pan located on 12th and 26th is an awesome little eatery inside and on top of a two story barge, complete with swaying seats, live music, and some of the liveliest crowds I've seen in NYC so far. To say it was a bit of an errand to get a seat isn't saying much at all.

One more short walk, subway trip, and a goodbye to friends later, it's nice to be able to pause, sit, and breathe in my somewhat cool dorm.

With the plans that are building the weekend is looking to be epic. Will tell all later.

-Mandy

Train Under Water

Walking barefoot back in the rain tonight with the guys I laughed at how appropriate their jokes were as they snickered behind my back. "I mean you gotta remember where she's from, bro." Aside from the stereotype side of the joke it made me feel like I was back home and it made me realize I really do have a good group of friends up here. As soon as they start making fun of me I know they're for real. (I can see W, B, K, and J laughing right now at how glad they are that other people realize how much of a dork I really am)

Today was again, a really good day. I stayed busy at work, which was a nice change of pace from last week's dawdling days of binding and facebook stalking. And it wasn't an annoying busy but a fun busy with interesting and relevant things to do. The day actually went by fast and soon it was time to leave, and as I sat staring at my reflection in the window of the subway it finally hit me. The realization I've been waiting for months to smack me over the head finally came today as I sat on the V train heading downtown with no speakers in ears because my iPod was charging back at the dorm. It wasn't a thunderous, loud, clapping realization. But instead it was soft and subtle and no longer surreal. I am in New York City. I am nineteen years old and spending my summer in New York City. I have the freedom to wander and explore and make new friends and visit new places. I get to see the city in all it's glory without time or travel restraints. And it took me this long to figure that out. But I'm glad I finally did. It doesn't mean that my official summer in New York is about to begin, that started long ago. It just means (I think) that I finally understand the opportunity and blessing this is, and I'm finally truly grateful. So much happened to me before I left, in so many different areas of my life, that instead of coming to New York, I was running away from Mississippi. But that's not what I'm thinking about any more. Now I'm in New York, truly, deeply in it. I've fallen in love with the city. With its people, its places, its sounds, its smells. So many lives inhabiting one small island, so many pages unwritten, unread, and I want to read them all. I want to write them all.

-Mandy

For Franz Ferdinand

(me eating a Coney dog at Coney Island!)

Today was wonderful. Simple as that. I woke up, tangled in my sheets desperate to get back the dream I'd had the night before. It had something to do with friends and a play and I knew it was good. But instead of falling back onto the pillow I got up and got ready for the day. Dressed in a vintage inspired outfit, fitting for a trip to Coney Island, I grabbed my camera and headed downstairs to meet SB to scratch off an item from my bucket list. After a breakfast of donuts and water we zoomed across Manhattan on the N train and over to Brooklyn where Coney Isle awaited. As we walked towards Nathan's (home of the world famous Coney Island Coney) and passed the circus and fair type buildings echoing back to another, carefree era, I felt like a kid on Christmas morning. I walked along the boardwalk, humming Drifters lyrics with childlike glee oohing and ahing over the varied faces and personalities lining the boardwalk and beach, glad to be out of the city for the day and to thrilled to be by the sea. The beach stretched out in front of me spotted by rainbow colored beach blankets and umbrellas and just as colorful people. The first thing on the list was to ride the Cyclone. Over eighty years old, the roller coaster couldn't be passed up, and SB and I squeeled as the carts raced past ancient wooden railings and hugged rickety curves. Then making our way past tourists, families, and the occasional Guito we paused to listen to a brass band before heading to the New York Aquarium, an addition to my bucket list I didn't know I had. Then a few hours and one ice cream later we decided to do what needed to be done. Get a Coney from Nathan's. My first hot dog in over eight years, thick and warm with chili and cheese. Making sure it was documented, and after a sip on my iceless coke I took a tentative bite. It was... good. I know that generations of Coney loyalties are probably cursing my post right now, but I only made it through half before realizing as appetizing as it looked and sounded, it wasn't for me. However at least I can say I have been there, done that, not gotten the t-shirt- but did eat the dog. After another hour spent wandering along the pier and wondering what it was like in it's heyday, pavilions filled with pinstriped men and silk skirted women and the shore covered in parasols, swimming caps, and striped suited beach goers. Stockinged children screaming on the Cyclone and ferris wheel, tugging their taffy tight in their mouths. It was a beautiful image to end the trip on and I promised myself another visit before I leave New York. Then one quick trip back to the city, two hours of watching Cloverfield, and a dinner at Kimmel later. C, A, SB and I settled ourselves down in Bryant Park to watch (along with hundreds of other Manhattaners) Goldfinger on the HBO screen in the park.

Walking back from the movie tonight I realized that my prediction yesterday so far was correct. It's going to be a good week. The memories and ghosts and characters that haunt Coney Island made the trip more romantic and magical than the place probably actually is. And the togetherness and cool night air made Goldfinger an immediate classic in my mind. But today was one of the days that reinforced the wonder that this city, this summer holds for me and I'm glad that I can sit here now, sweat dripping down my neck in the heat of a New York summer night, typing this to you.

Above are some photographs to show just how AMAZING Coney Island is!

-Mandy

Sundays in the Summer

It is still hot. It is still sticky. My hair is thrown up in a bun so hopefully the curls have stopped.

I love Sundays in the summer. They're drastically different than Sundays in the fall, winter, or spring. During the school year they come with this sad, gone sense of foreboding- the weekend is over and Monday is almost here. But in the summertime they are blissfully sweet and lazy and are the one day out of the week where I don't feel guilty about not being out there doing something. It's my day to wander, to read, to write, to eat by myself in the park and not feel lonely. There is something comforting about a Sunday in the summer, no sense of foreboding, not when my work week starts on a Tuesday, but instead a delight in a day given to pauses and breaks. After a late lunch in the park, I took my sundress self, sandaled feet, straw hat and all uptown to Redeemer College to hear Tim Keller preach and I realized how much I had been needing a Sunday. A true Sunday. The last one was filled with rain, crowded subways and a night dedicated to the Tony's, but today was good. It made me glad that Sunday was the start of my week- it's given me a sense of excitement. Like anything can happen this week. Or nothing at all, and it will still be wonderful. I finished the night at S's watching Dear John and wondering at how Nicholas Sparks can make girls melt like that. Then a surprise phone call from V, a dialed one to W, and a short trip back, I now sit in my room swearing I will never take air conditioning for granted again.

There's a half moon tonight, hanging heavy and lonesome against skyscrapers cutting into the night but there are people on every street corner- their lives spinning out beneath neon signs- and I have a good feeling about this week.

-Mandy

Jersey Shore baby

It is hot. It is sticky. My hair is actually curling. But ohmegosh Crumbs Bake Shop makes the best cupcakes.

I'm not sure what brought on this thought, but I'm fascinated with the way that Gertrude Stein, Ernest Hemingway, and F. Scott Fitzgerald were all friends and moved in the same circles. This has nothing to do with the writings of the Lost Generation, though I am really fond of those, but more to do with the way these literary minds found and nurtured one another. It's happened throughout history, theirs was in Paris, the Inklings (Tolkien, Lewis, and Barfield) in Oxford, and then there was the Beat Generation discovering themselves in 1950 New York (Ginsberg, Kerouac, and Cassidy). The way that these writers formed friendships and influenced each other's works is astounding and I have to wonder if there's a movement, a hidden grouping of writers works who will stand the test of time happening right down the corner from me. Meeting at mornings in The Gray Dog or for drinks at Gatsby's or maybe just sitting and chatting with one another at Washington Square Park. Or maybe this time it won't be New York, but L.A. or Prague or Berlin, who knows? There are just so many books published and so many talented authors lost in the fray that I wonder will our Hemingways and Tolkiens and Ginsbergs remain unfound because of the cheapness of our generation? I desperately hope not and anxiously await to read the writings of those fellows sitting under a tree somewhere with red bull and coffee hashing out characters, plots, purposes, and passions.

Recap: Thanks to the wonderful connections that arise from living in a dorm where everyone has internships with companies throughout the city, my day yesterday was spent on the 27th floor of the Goldman Sachs building watching the Red Bull Air Races with C and SB. Watching the planes dip and dive smoke plumes tracing the path of the twisting planes was breathtaking against the bright blue of the June sky. It was my first trip to Jersey. Then after riding the Path back into Manhattan I lazed around writing and reading until it was time for K's going away party at Pastis. I love how beautiful everyone gets when they go out, arranging their makeup, hair, and outfit. Everybody sort of sparkles when thrown into the dim lights of street lamps lining cobblestoned roads and all you can think of is the night is new and we are young.

But now its morning and I have things I need to do and places I need to be. So have a wonderful Sunday dear readers.

-Mandy

P.S. Happy Father's Day!

as i see it

saturday in the park (okay so its actually friday)

Today was again a wonderfully lazy day. I fear that all of you blog followers out there are going to start thinking that half of my time in New York is spent sitting in parks and lazily and wonderfully doing nothing but people watching and enjoying the summer. Oh wait, but it is.

After a so-so sandwich at Kimmel and a trip to Bed, Bath, and Beyond for a beach towel and sunscreen I (ugh after two transfers on the subway, and I had been doing so good!) met up with M at Central Park and layed out while we watched all the colorful faces pass below us and jammed to 80's tunes. Then yogurt and a thirty minute ride back and now I'm sitting here deciding what to do with my night. There are options. And I'm extremely indecisive.

So I've decided to leave all of you sweet southerners a guide on how to speak New York.

ice pop= popsicle

you guys= y'all

soda/pop=coke/soft drink

abso=absolutely

rum=room

So now I feel like a nerd for doing that. Oh well. I am one.

-Mandy

continuing

So after a wonderful nap, and meal in Washington square, and making friends with some fellow teens who sit in the park each night having a jam session, I'm back in the dorm and hanging with the roomies.

The weekend is coming and I can't believe my time here is zooming by so fast, and there's so much still to do. I miss everyone and wish they were all to share it with me but it's so wonderful and amazing that I can't focus on that and just have to enjoy every minute of it.

Back to former post. So yes, Webster Hall was really cool and I almost felt like I was back at a show in Oxford because of the music and the TOTAL hipster scene, I live in the freaking village and all I see are skinny jeans and plaid, and (anyone who knows me knows I'm not complaining) it's ironic how I can feel so at home and somewhat out of place at the same time. Still that show was so legit.

So instead of describing the rather lazy day today I'm going to leave you with a link. Enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8mA4iKESVqw

Go. Watch. Now.

-Mandy

update

I'm learning that while the world is large and expansive and holds so many opportunities and experiences that I can't wait to leap at, that it is also very small. And intimate. And different areas of your life and other peoples lives can collide in odd ways.

I don't really know where I'm going with that. But for some reason it needed to be said.

Anywho... last night went to see Blitzen Trapper with SB and it was sooooo good. Webster Hall is a really cool venue when it's not guitoed out.

Oh, hold up, Sis just said we can bounce work early. I'll finish this at the dorm.

-Mandy

heaven and earth

Heaven and earth are mine says I

Over the western world shadows fall
Under the kind and dying trees we call
Together still the feel the breeze
To shatter all these waking dreams we've told
Ourselves to keep us free and clean

Heaven and earth are mine says I


There is a love that sleeps inside
The canyons of our deepest dreaming lives
A shelter that cannot be lost
A name that is so deep and so far across
Your life is like a bolt of lightning seen
Across the sky, so high and clean

Heaven and earth are mine says I
Heaven and earth are mine

Over the western world shadows fall
Under the kind and dying trees we call
Together still the feel the breeze
To shatter all these waking dreams we've told
Ourselves yeah ourselves
Ourselves yeah ourselves

Heaven and earth are mine says I

-Blitzen Trapper

hi y'all

I've realized my posts are leaning towards a bit of a theme at times, my "Southerness" and how it plays out in this Yankee town. Funny how I never meant for this to happen. My only goal of this blog is to record my summer, update everyone back home on how things are going in the city, and generally journal my way through this passage in my life (trying to be as honest as I can on a public blog). So I'm guessing that means that the part of my identity that is defined by being from the South has never truly gotten a chance to reach out and feel its boundaries until being transported to a place so unlike where I was raised. It's the little things that I've become acutely aware of, how appreciative I am when a guy opens a door for me, or how many strange looks I get when I say yes ma'am to the cashier behind the Starbucks counter, or even how excited I become when I bump into a woman on the street and she remarks, "Excuse me, dahlin." (Finland laughed when he noticed the extra skip in my step after hearing her drawl, oh yeah did I mention I made friends with an artist from Finland? Real neat guy, bit of an awkward lunch date) What any of this has to do with my day yesterday you may ask? Well, as I was googling, yes, B, I was googling, up things to do last night I stumbled upon a cool little venue in Chelsea that happened to be featuring Corey Smith at 8. What?! My immediate response was to look up how far away it was, to text S, wait for her exclamation mark filled response and then hurriedly put together my plans for the evening. Which turned out to be wonderful. I may have happened across two different promo parties since I've been up here (one for the movie Killers, and the other for Lady Gaga's sunglass designer), but neither of those nights turned out to be near as fun as last night, hanging with S, and listening to some sweet Southern boy sing. Maybe it was because of who I was with, or where I was, or how it reminded me of home, but it was definitely a great night.

Even though the night was filled with sweet Southern comforts the day consisted of very New Yorkerish things. Lunch with Finland at an Indian restaurant, window shopping along Broadway, reading in Washington Park, dancing to a band playing under the arch, and joining in on a group of strangers decorating the sidewalk, chalk in hand, till finished with my contribution I walked away iPod plugged in my ears ironically playing Belle and Sebastian's Piazza New York Catcher. Then dinner with A at Kimmel and the show and bed and morning and work and now I'm back, and who knows what tonight, tomorrow, or the rest of the summer will hold?

-Mandy

P.S. Much later, just now realized that my computer was still up and hadn't posted this whoops.

in the village

The best way to have a good day is to stumble upon it. S and I roamed the village yesterday, losing ourselves amongst the numbers and names only to happen upon a street festival in between bars lined with people cheering on USA. The day ended up being a mixture of smells, sounds, faces, and hole-in-the-wall vintage stores where hats, dresses, and shoes, reminiscent of old-time New York decorated the walls and yearned to be bought, worn, paraded down the sidewalks of Manhattan. A wandering day turned into an colorful night full of characters and outfits fit for the main stage of a Lady Gaga tour. But like I said before, I like the nights best.

I awoke this morning to tangled sheets and rain pouring against the window. It was a good day to read. And write. And end the night with the Tony's where inspiration and creativity flows out of every performance on the stage, and you become desperate to be a part of that world. To write something worth performing.

And now I'm back. It's still raining and my room smells of dusk and weather but it's cool for once and my bed with its rumpled sheets and book lying open looks too inviting to ignore much longer.

-Mandy

familiar faces

It's funny how seeing someone from your past reemerge in a place so unconnected with them can make you realize how much you've changed, grown. Hopefully for the better, but then again you know you make mistakes too. Got dinner with P. Smith and Benjamin on Thursday and it was strange realizing that I was sitting in New York, the city I had written and longed for in all those silly stories and poems from high school, with the man who helped me find my voice in those silly stories and poems. It's seeing him, and remembering that high school girl when I really realize the changes that a single year can make. And a single city. It breathes and lives change and growth and life. From the skaters at Union Square to saxophone player on the steps of the Met, New York vibrates with sound and color and I'm grateful for the chance to be here. Right now. In this moment. It sounds terribly cliche and I should probably add in that New York can be a mean, unforgiving place as well, and I know it can, but that's my experience, not yet. And this is my first stab at writing fact not fiction so I'll keep it honest.

So recap? I know you're dying. Thursday, cold New York day and windy night but dinner with the friends and watching the Celtics game with a newfound group of NYU residents kept me busy and my mind off of the chill bumps decorating my arms. Friday? Gym in morning (I know, shocker right? then lunch, met, and Forever 21 with roomie R. Really loved hanging, comparing shoes, chatting up New York and art, and getting to know her better. Then dinner and hanging out with S, A, S, A, C, M, A, S, M, and O (really if I put names down you'd be just as confused). Then today... hmm who knows yet?

love from the apple

-Mandy

rainy days and mondays (erm, wednesdays?)

So I realized today that I didn't make the big, one week blog entry. You know that one that everyone does when they've been somewhere amazing and surreal (cough New York cough) for exactly a week. But I feel it's unnecessary. I mean what's so special about one week that isn't special about one day. The city is, cliche as this may sound, magical. When you're down in the morning, something simple as rain against your window, or having someone to go to dinner with, or seeing an old friend can pick you up and twirl your mood around. Today was good. It was wet and cold but there is a comfort in the rain that sometimes the sun in all its brilliant array can't provide. And there is a refreshing feel in sitting in a dining hall at a table of newly found friends that is reminiscent of summer and the first days of school all mixed together. The sound of the city and the rain and the wind are all curling together into a low hum outside my window right now and I feel so content I might explode, or implode, is that the correct word? I feel like these are the kinds of days when brilliant works, and songs, and deeds are written and done.

-Mandy

"We'd watch the shapes the rain would make, falling down the window of our bus. I said they reminded me of paper ponies blowing free, you said they reminded you of us." - The Felice Brothers

my room + a new york moment

recap

I've decided that New York at night is my favorite time of anything. For some reason the streets belong to me then, in Oxford or in Jackson morning was my time, early before anyone was awake when I felt the whole world belonged to me and anything was possible. But in New York it's the nights that I can call mine. The crowds are gone, the vendors are closed and the subways seem lonely and alien, but the building are lit and every now and then you catch glimpses of stars mirroring the street lamps that line the sidewalks. And the buzz and the heat of midday in the city has settled to a quiet cool and hum that defines the night and the people who walk it. And this is my favorite.

So in case any of you have just been aching to know or are even curious as to what the weekend consisted of, here is the quick and somewhat concise plot line. Saturday in the park: Only Mississippians, a state full of characters whose first line out of their mouth after an introduction is "And now who are your people?" could successfully architect a get together of everyone that originated from the hospitality state for a picnic in Central Park that consists of food, music, friends, and sweet tea. I saw so many people I'd hoped to run into S, N, and E to name a few and ran into some more that I didn't know were up here K, and T. Spent the day lazily laying on a picnic blanket with M, and her friends, and then S after M left. Observing the fact that only Mississippians would want to linger at the party even after the tents had been folded, stored, and the sweet tea gone. But lying on that blanket hearing y'all, yes ma'am, and Hotty Toddy surround me how could I have wanted to leave? But leave I did, gently strolling through the park with S as we discussed everything from boys to Broadway and cutting the conversation short I boarded the train to meet up with K, etc. for dinner and hanging out time.

Then Sunday and reading in Union square and church and dinner with M. A lazy day full of wind and music and pages read hurriedly rushing to find out the ending only wishing I hadn't so I'd still be in the middle.

Then today with a much-needed and desired lie in, I started my day correctly until getting a bit confused as to how to get to my cafeteria, but a few repeated streets and one Duane Read map later I found the building, the food, the view, and the other NYU diners sitting singly in the middle floor of Kimmel. After enjoying a cafeteria meal that tasted unlike a cafeteria meal I again boarded the subway only this time heading towards the Met, only to discover it was closed on Mondays. But no fear, if New York is nothing else, it's beautiful and there's a plethora of places to explore. Today's chosen spot was Central Park and after (creepy I know!) watching the babies with their nannies, the skaters and bikers, the tourists and athletes, I headed back to midtown to pick up M for dinner and the show. We ate dinner at Brazil, Brazil amidst the colors and sounds of New York sifting through our supper window as a street fair carried on outside and headed towards Broadway for a little bit of musical genius performed in American Idiot in the guise of John Gallagher Jr. (yes I said John Gallagher Jr., if you know who is, you're doing a double take I know). The musical was in so many words, epic. To take a bunch of rock songs that seem to apply more to pubescent teens and correspond them to issues and ideals that are universal is genius. To see a musical, a play, written about our generation, a generation dealing with hypocrisy, rage, love, life, duty, and freedom and see it take songs that I, we, grew up to and use them to correspond with all of these themes and more is encouraging. To know that maybe, even a little, we are understood, is more rewarding than any money that play may cash in on. And from the standing ovation that it received I feel that other people may agree with me. My only hope is that others will see it and enjoy it and understand it, and that one day I may be able to write something that inspiring, and that meaningful, and have people see it and understand.

So to all those lovelies still wishing on stars and building lights, good luck and good night.

-Mandy

a pause

Sorry, anxious (eh?) readers out there. No post tonight or summary of the weekend. That will come tomorrow, I promise! Tonight you get someone else's words, someone else's summary, someone else's story that I feel is very... fitting. So thank you Mrs. Stockett for putting in words what it feels like to be... you, me, all of us?

"The rash of negative accounts about Mississippi, in the movies, in the papers, on television, have made us natives a wary, defensive bunch. We are full of pride and shame, but mostly pride.

Still, I got out of there. I moved to New York City when I twenty-four. I learned that the first question anyone asked anybody, in a town so transient, was "Where you from?" And I'd say, "Mississippi." And then I'd wait.

To people who smiled and said, "I've heard it's beautiful down there," I'd say, "My hometown is number three in the nation for gang-related murders." To people who said, "God, you must be glad to get out of that place," I'd bristle and say, "What do you know? It's beautiful down there."

Once, at a roof party, a drunk man from a rich white Metro North-train type of town asked me where I was from and I told him Mississippi. He sneered and said, "I am so sorry."

I nailed down his foot with the stiletto portion of my shoe and spent the next ten minutes quietly educating him on the where-from-abouts of William Faulkner, Eudora Welty, Tennessee Williams, Elvis Presley, B.B. King, Oprah Winfrey, Jim Henson, Faith Hill, James Earl Jones, and Craig Claiborne, the food editor and critic for the New York Times. I informed him that Mississippi hosted the first lung transplant and the first heart transplant and that the basis of the United States legal system was developed at the University of Mississippi.

I was homesick and I'd been waiting for somebody like him.

I wasn't very genteel or ladylike, and the poor guy squirmed away and looked nervous for the rest of the party. But I couldn't help it.

Mississippi is like my mother. I am allowed to complain about her all I want, but God help the person who raises an ill word about her around me, unless she is their mother too."

*excerpt from Kathryn Stockett's book The Help

So good night all. From the working girl in the city.

-Mandy

the good, the bad, and the taxi

Today was a day of firsts. For the first time I got an ID made that doesn't make me shove the card in the furthest pocket of my wallet out of fear I will be connected with the unsightly creature in the photo (a.k.a. me at sixteen). I explored New York by myself for the first time, covering all over Union and Washington Squares, taking everything in that makes New York- New York. The architecture is beautiful, the city is alive, the shops and vendors and restaurants are as variant as the faces that occupy them, which is of course the real infrastructure of New York. People from all walks of life, hundreds of different countries and all fifty states, people from London, to L.A., to Lafayette claim the city as their own- and justly so. Oh, and I left my cell phone in a taxi for the first time today.

Yes. You read it right. I left my phone in a taxi. Then had to figure out if and where there was a pay phone, and dig for quarters. Needless to say not such a fun adventure but then those silly people of New York go on out and surprise you to make your day a little better. First there was Renee- the taxi driver (not the missing phone taxi driver), who felt bad for me and let me pick music out on his iPod to listen to then followed up his wonderful car conversation and pretty decent taste in music with his card, telling me to call if I ever needed him or his taxi for anything. And secondly there was Kyle, who works at the AT&T store and has totally changed my opinion on the workers of above said store. He marveled at my y'alls and yes ma'ams and made sure my new phone was in working order before I left the store. In short the entire process was annoying but led to a successful ending, so all's well that ends well right? And today ended excellently; with more triumph over that tricky subway and dinner with M and her friends K, E, E, and E, and an amazing performance by the New York ballet company that left my mind stumped over the precision, detail, and beauty that exists in the human body when intertwined with passion, art and music. So on that note (ha how clever?) good night to all and to all a good night.

-Mandy

to all my single ladies

Day off. Most likely going to go back to sleep. It's hot and I feel sticky, wondering if all those beat writers surviving the sixties in the village, holed up in their studios curling their bodies over typewriters- only leaving for wine and cigarettes and to visit other writers hunched over their typewriters- were hot and sticky as well? Must have been. They were playing the role of the tortured artist after all.

To all my single ladies: Yesterday was girls day. E (different from Tuesday and Wednesday) and S and I were the only interns and our emails were labeled to (understood our) sweet girls all day long. And after work I finally got a chance to know and hang with the roomies, plus their friends S and K. Turns out? Not so intimidating, but very fun and sweet. Grabbed dinner at the gray dog about three blocks up and talked boys, clothes, and what the plans for the summer were (free dancing lessons anyone?) and like I said it was a girls night out.

So love to all, I'm about to sleep in just a teency bit more, and here's a shout out to W (since he asked for it), but also deserved it. Yours forever.

-Mandy

a little past midnight

So, a little past midnight and I should be asleep. But how do you sleep in New York? After successfully navigating the subway for the first time by myself with no (erm?) mishaps the accomplishment is very reminiscent of the feeling of tying your shoes for the first time (only with less rhyming and a subtler grin) I found dearest S and had dinner and chatter just like we planned. I didn't realize how much I needed a small reminder of home till our conversation drifted to high school, friends, and the divergent paths our lives are taking now. Two hours later and I'm back at the room chatting with L and R about Glee (imagine?!) and then A and two of his friends (S and C) and I talked college and explored the lounge, thank the Lord, I found a coke machine. And now- I'm sort of half laughing and biting my lip at all the worries I felt coming into this. I know it won't all come up roses and more than likely there will be a tough day ahead. But for now? I have friends (or at least friends in the making) and weekend plans and subway success stories, and most importantly wonderful loves back home (B!) who know how to cheer me up when silly insecurities attempt to plant themselves in my head. So goodnight to all from the city that never sleeps.

-Mandy

day tres

Slowly sidling through the New York sidewalks this morning, flats on my feet and tote on my shoulder filled with New Yorkerish things such as a subway pass, iPod, and an ID that gets me into the RS office made up for any uneasiness I might have felt last night.

Rewind to yesterday. Short sleep, long flight of stairs, quick taxi ride with my nose pressed to the window and my hand on my stomach firmly commanding the butterflies to stop. Then one elevator ride and ugly ID card later I sit comfortably at my own desk, IMing the other interns about working at RS, and who else is going to the True Blood screening at midnight. Then there’s tabbing mags, eating lunch, attending sales meeting (blushing furiously at being made to stand and introduce myself), and then M and I grab those monsters of suitcases and grab a taxi to the dorm. After unpacking and snooping to see what type of girls my new roommates will be (stylish with good taste in books), I finally finished hanging two months worth of dresses and was settled. Then I met the roomies (L and R from Boston and San Fran, Syracuse friendsies, sweet but slightly intimidating), and headed off with M to dinner and the True Blood screening with A, E, and J (with her boy!). Then bed at two thirty, alarm at seven, and zoom into me walking along those New York sidewalks this morning.

And now I’m at work- with my lovely fellow interns, ranging from Georgia to Connecticut. A, C, and E are here today, S showed me the ropes yesterday (eternally grateful!) and now I can’t wait up to meet with my other sweet S (living with her dear auntie on 86) for dinner and chatter. But for now I’m here leaning (way) back in my chair, staring out on Fifth, attempting to keep my fingers from pinching myself in disbelief.

Love to all- Mandy

p.s. Apparently there was confusion, my dear Jacksonian (and Floridian) loves, yes Mandy is Miriam, but thanks to some dear college girls who belong in the city, for the sake of the blog and the story, I’m Mandy. Don’t ask, just go with it.