"Your Booty" in Three Syllables

I know.

You don’t have to tell me.

It’s not Thursday. But I’m still going to give you “Thursday’s Things New Yorkers Say,” simply because today I have time and yesterday I did not!

I'll be better next week. Promise.

Ladies and gents, without further ado, here is the chitchat from around the city:

Waiting for the E train at Times Square to get to Martha:

A man in a Yellow Jacket is kind of circling around the platform with his headphones on, occasionally mumbling a song lyric. I think nothing of it.

“This is my song for reeeal, no doubt, See the DJ’s makin’ me feel thugged out.”

Oh great. And we’ve got a singer! These people have always annoyed me. Why do they assume we all want to hear them sing? Never the less, I’ve heard worse and louder. But I do silently curse the fact that my Ipod’s battery is dead.

“As I walk you to the dance floor, we begin to dance slow. You put your arms around me, I’m feelin’ on yo booty.”

Um. Seriously? First, he kept singing…why? Second, feeling-on-yo-booty? Are we really going to sing that right now? Uh, sir, isn’t it awful early in the morning for a booty song?

“And yo hair weave’s lookin’ kinda puuuuurty, the way you back it up on me, baby, Lord have meeeercy.”

Oh – oh no. I’m laughing… out loud. Straight up laughing. Sure, I look like an idiot too – but Yellow Jacket is now bending, dancing, and singing LOUDLY about a purty girl’s weave, while waving his hands around. Other people are beginning to stare at him. Is this Candid Camera? A joke? Please, please be a joke.

“Playaz wanna play, ballaz wanna ball, Rollaz wanna roll but I’m takin’ all, after I dance.”

Boo. Come on Yellow Jacket. That didn’t even rhyme. If you are going to MAKE me unwillingly listen to your music you sure as heck better perform up to standard.

And then is happens.

“Yo boo-o-ty.” Imagine. Booty becomes a three-syllable word. He starts off by saying it low and with a deep voice.

“Yo boo-ew-ty. Yo boo-ew-ty.” Getting louder.

Yo boo-EW-ty. Yo boo-EW-ty!” Louder and higher pitch.

“Yo boo-EW-TY. YOO BOO-O-TY!” Too loud! Too high pitch!

“YO-BOO-EWWW – EHHH….”

Yep. He cracked. His voice cracked big time. No more booty for him. The platform echoed that shameful note and I simply starred at him with a slight (vindictive?) grin. All the things that came to my mind – all the things I could have said!

Instead I just shook my head. Yellow Jacket may have had the booty blues for a few minutes, but don’t you worry about him. He was singing again before the next train arrived.

And while he annoyed me, and while I thought about yanking his earphones from his head, and then shouting “WE DON’T WANT TO HEAR YOU SING,” I refrained.

Because Yellow Jacket is a part of what makes New York exactly what it is and exactly what it’s supposed to be.

********

Pics of the Week

How's this for hobo-chic living? Our roof begins to leak...

...a lot.

Then the wind was so bad it blew over my picture frame and opened my AC unit. I was sitting in my bed and then BAM. Mother Nature invaded my room. Craziness.

Three's Company... Great Company

This past weekend my friends Kelley and Alice visited the city from Virginia. After a harrowing journey via the midnight Chinatown bus to New York, they were greeted with an under construction F train which subsequently led to a trip through Brooklyn on the wrong train, followed by several layovers to good old Queens.

And all this at 6am. Sounds like some adventures I've had before...

Never the less, they made it! And I'm quite proud of their determination despite the evil MTA powers at hand.

So they slept all day and I went to work until dinner time. When my shift ended, we made plans to meet up for food and headed towards my favorite sandwich shop near Union Square.

Grey Dog's Coffee is a cozy cafe with delectable breads and beers, tucked into a pleasant, eclectic space on University. We walked into the small restaurant and per the usual, were greeted by some cute, semi-trendy guy. Embarrassingly enough, Alice, Kelley, and I all ordered the same exact thing - but you CAN NOT go wrong with the infamous Number 7. Brie cheese, and turkey melted together, combined with juicy Granny Smith apple slices and topped by a raspberry mustard sauce on two thick slices of cranberry bread. No. You can do no wrong.

All the sandwiches look amazing. This is the Number 1 with tomato instead of apple. Photo courtesy of Robobby on Flicker.

But our food binge didn't stop there...

The next morning we woke up and made plans to try a French cafe in Astoria. We donned our boots and grabbed umbrellas, undaunted by wind or rain. You see, rumor had it this place served a brunch under fifteen bucks that included croissants and Nutella.

Swinging open the door of the Pomme Cafe, I was greeted by a warm Parisian wood-panelled den, lined with wine bottles and picture frames. "Three for brunch?" the hostess said as we nodded and were whisked away towards our table.

Oh and were the rumors blissfully true! Croissants and Nutella appeared before our hungry eyes, as well as coffee and a box of teas to chose from. There was also a complimentary Bloody Mary, Bellini, or Mimosa with our meals, so I tried with homemade tomato juice mix and was not disappointed in the slightest. But this ceremony of treats was all before our food even arrived. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves...

Bloody Mary that came with brunch.

My buttermilk biscuit with pork, eggs, and hollandaise sauce.

Kelley's fruit-filled French toast.

Alice's zucchini and squash omelet.

The day progressed with much walking thus our glutenous appetites were not yet quite appeased. Yes, you know what comes after brunch... dinner.

Down to the South Seaport we went, stopping into Salud around 4pm, just in time for the $5 Mojito happy hour special. After two orders of drinks, two orders of plantain chips, and one order of a three-course tapas meal to split, we were finally feeling delightfully full. A little steak, the seafood platte, and a rice pudding dessert occupied our minds as we hid from the perpetual rain in this candle-lit restaurant by the Hudson.

$5 Mojitos are unheard of in the city. These three guys were fabulous - and usually $11.

Love me some plantains and bean sauce.

The rest of the evening was enjoyable and I finally saw the Oscar-wining movie, "The Kings Speech." For good measure, let's not discuss the fact that we dove into chips and salsa after the film. Nope - no mention of that.

But of course, by Monday morning, we had been without food for nearly 7 hours. It was grazing time again! Now we craved the ever-present man in my life: Mr. Brooklyn Bagel. Kelley, Alice, and I ordered a schmorgasboard of different bagel flavors and cream cheeses, leaving us all full to the brim.

Now finally we fasted. I saved half that bagel all day, eating pieces here and pieces there. After my internship and late night at Bloomies were completed, I met the girls and David at Rudy's Bar and Grill around 9pm. If you've read these posts before, you know what we do at Rudy's... Besides dance with Louie Prima Jr. and run away from Indian men who try and curse you... yes that's right! FREE HOTDOGS.

And did we devour those! Plus the bartender gave us free drinks and somehow we managed to score free fries from the bartender's cousin. I know, I know... how could I lower myself eating scavenged fries and hotdogs after such fabulous foods all weekend?

I'll tell you. Eating food? Well it's fine. But wining and dining with great company? Enjoying conversation over a fancy Mojito or a $7 pitcher of cheap beer? Whether it be at a Parisian cafe or a dive bar in Hell's Kitchen - those moments with friends sharing stories and snacks; those moments are to be forever engrained into my bottomless stomach. Those moments are precious.

Now aren't you hungry?

Grey Dogs Coffee - Photo courtesy of Alice Ricks.

Pomme Cafe - Photo courtesy of Alice Ricks.

Thursday's Things New Yorkers Say

Some one-liners from the streets of New York and New Jersey:

“Why you don’t got no kid yet?” – Child in Newark asks me. It was sad. But then it was kind of funny.

“Look, honey. I got two hands. I’m not a like uhh… one of those octopuses, ya know?” – Woman talking on her phone walking down 24^th street in Chelsea.

“Do you know how to get to the Hustler’s Club?” – Young guy to me when in Hell’s Kitchen.

And no… I didn’t know where the Hustler’s Club was located.

Now, let’s take a look at February in a flash:

Classes began to confuse me.

I bought a plant. I haven't quite planted it yet... but I took the first step.

A yummy Martha Stewart crumb cake was baked and devoured.

We celebrated a birthday!

And we danced.

Finally, there was a photo shoot.

Plus more. But for now, I'm sorry guys - I've got to go. This blog post was short. Here's the thing: I'm reading the Hunger Games and I have about 50 pages left. So I'm going to go disappear into that world for a while, and then I'll be more sociable in a few days. Talk to you again when I'm not in Britney-book-mode... oh the obsessive behavior. It's like a disease! Insomnia, loss of interest, and a whole slew of other side effects you might hear in a prescription's informercial.

Lucky I love this sickness. And if your reading my blog, you probably do too.

What I Do On My Days Off

I’ve got the entire day off you say?

Well of course! I can’t believe I’ve got the whole day.
No internship, work, or even school.
This day, yes. This day will rule.

Maybe I’ll clean my room and make my bed,
But no, I would only do that if I were sick in the head.
Chores are boring and really no fun.
Besides I’ll get back in bed once the day is done!

So maybe I’ll go down the street and wash my clothes.
But honestly that idea just makes me want to doze.
It’s too cold to carry my laundry basket down the block,
So I’ll just do my laundry when it gets hot.

Instead I could do homework and read for class.
But it’s my free day! I’m sure I will pass…
Besides, there is my Fafsa and taxes I must complete.
Not to mention scores of paperwork I should greet.

But no! I refuse! With this dreadful list,
My day off is becoming something to resist!
So I will turn a blind eye and stress myself out during the week,
Thus on my day off only happiness shall I seek.

So these days have been filled with bagels and museum tours,
Or shopping, friends, exploring, and more.
There’s also my list of things to do in NYC I’m trying to beat
And I always love to be busy, out and about on my feet.

While Pace is driving me crazy with these ridiculous forms,
And my “online” W-2 was never emailed to me like it was sworn,
I’m glad I have at least a few hours a week to be free
So I can live an exciting life, or just simply be.

*******

This past President’s Day, most of me and Ivy's friends had visitors in NYC or were out of town. So we got together and made some breakfast in Queens before visiting the Tenement Museum in the lower east side (two thumbs up!) and then checking out some thrift stores. Not only did we enjoy our fabulous day off from reality, but I found a leather jacket for spring via The Dressing Room consignment shop for cheap!

I can’t tell you how great it was to do nothing.

So we made a crazy breakfast involving doughnuts, strawberries, and cream cheese.

Get chocolate cake-like doughnuts (mine are from Donkin'), and then slice up the strawberries.

Next, slice the doughnuts in half.

Spread a light layer of cream cheese on the glazed side of the doughnut and pile on the fruit.

Martha probably wouldn't like this recipe. Oh but do I...

We also bought some bacon because you know I've got to get my salt.

Next, lightly grease a pan, and toast the tops of the doughnut till they are slightly crispy and deliciously warm.

My first glass of orange juice in months! Ivy and I actually drank the majority of the gallon.

So very good.

Cooking and such.

Putting our plates together and getting ready to watch a Gilmore Girls episode. Because, you know, it's our day off. So we do what we want.

Heaven. Just don't tell the bagel I cheated on him with something this sweet. It will be our little secret...

Brooklyn Photoshoot

I’ve never really posed for anyone else other than Katelyn James before.

So I was intrigued when a friend I’d met when I first moved up here asked if I would help model for a photoshoot in Brooklyn. She knew someone who owned a small clothing company, mostly specializing in religious scarfs, belts, totes, etc.

I weighed the pros and cons in my head and based my decision off one thing: it’s an experience. “You’ve never done it and you’ll probably never do it again,” I told myself.

Plus I could blog about it.

“Yeah. Sure, I’ll help out,” I replay via Facebook. The plans were constructed throughout the next week. Where to meet, what to bring, my sizes… everything was slowly being pieced together. Before long it was Saturday night, and I had less than 12 hours before I needed to be headed towards Brooklyn.

But of course it wasn’t that easy. The weekend was busy, and collectively between Friday and Saturday I’d gotten about 11 hours of sleep – which honestly, isn’t that bad for me, but I was beginning to stress about the looming bags under my eyes and the amount of chocolate I’d consumed throughout Valentine’s Day week.

How shamefully “girly.”

Never the less, I woke up Sunday at 8am and showered after chugging a huge glass of water. I stayed away from coffee because it can give me the jitters, and picked at an apple and some bread.

Eck. I was nervous.

I made it to Brooklyn easily enough and found the row of warehouses that people rent out for events like this. I only got lost once, accidently walking into a factory where a bunch of workers were making wires. “Whoops. Sorry. Not for photos,” I say, heading a block over to the correct warehouse. I mean… they all look the same.

The rentable warehouse in Brooklyn.

Enthusiastically I was thrown into a whirlwind of hair and makeup. For nearly an hour and a half I was brushed, flat-ironed, curled, primed, and painted. The girls attacking my hair and face were nothing short of fabulous – they gave me doll-like vintage red lips and cheeks with wavy ringlets I could only dream of creating. The transformation from tired mess to a vintage success was certainly a noteworthy accomplishment for them.

The beautiful gal who put this all together getting her makeup done.

Canvases were being moved here and there to catch the correct lighting, and I was changing in and out of clothing, heels, and accessories. There were two male models, and three of us girls. We were all freezing, and perpetually throwing on the scarves that were not being used during the photoshoot. You see, rentable warehouses do not have heating – so wearing a little skirt and thin cotton shirt was not ideal.

Setting up the lights and cameras.

But it was a “model moment!” I could almost hear Tyra Banks screaming, “Look fierce girls!” as we all smiled and fought through freezing fingers. My sister’s and I had practiced for this moment many a time, striking laughable poses… and now it was real!

I tottered in high heels, almost got stuck in a small pencil skirt, was freezing, hungry, told I looked great, told I looked not-so-great, and positioned a zillion different ways… but it was fun for a few hours! The shoot was like playing a part, or acting out the role of “model,” which is so different from reality that I found the afternoon to be hilariously enjoyable. I really loved the photographer, who made the posing easy, and I’d say we all had quite an experience, which was exactly what I was looking for.

But the best part of my day?

The huge everything bagel I rewarded myself with after the shoot ;)

The prop table with clothes and such.

The space we used.

Oh how ironic...

One of the other fabulous models.

Doing hair, tying scarfs, and trying to stay warm.

The End.

You Guys Make Me Laugh

So I can see on my blog tracker when someone uses a google search to find the link to "The Why" blog. Don't worry - I can't see who you are... but do I know the key terms used in a search engine that pull up my webpage. And some of them are pretty funny.

For one reason or another, last week there were 19 Google searches (yay!) and a lot of very interesting phrases that 1)brought you to my blog successfully 2)made you accidentally stumble onto my blog or 3)gave you my blog's hyperlink instead of whatever else you were looking for - sorry 'bout that.

Anyways. Here are some of the phrases that led people to the blog this week. I really love that "poor student" and "things an indian would say" were some of the key words.

1) Upbeat Josh Garrels (probably from Summer's 10 Days of Music)

2) Was Random House profitable in 2010 (I wish I knew)

3) They Say A Poor Student (is me)

4) The Usual Please (this post was from when I just found the spring Lounge and Brooklyn Bagel)

5) Britney Fitzgerald NYC Blog (fabulously specific)

1) Newerk Mission Trip (we'll ignore that Newark is spelled wrong because let's face it - I may be the worst speller in all of Knew York Sity)

2) The Why Brifit (which I'm surprised led you to the blog - love it!)

3)Internship Penguin Publishing (from all my searching around)

4) How to Get a Martha Stewart Internship (I'll tell you)

5) Words New Yorkers Say (Dounkin Donuts, you guys, kwoffe, etc.)

6) Ball Room in the Great Gatsby's House (aka. the Plaza Hotel post)

7) List of Things New Yorkers Say (go to the tab "People" on The Why homepage)

8) Student Poor Living (hahaha I love this one...)

9) The Great Gatsby Letting Go of the Past (from a quote in the Annapolis blog post)

10) The Why Brit (I feel like my sister did that Google search)

11) Things an Indian Would Say (I am just so happy someone typed this into Google and then got my blog post about an Indian I met in a bar!)

*************

UPDATE:

I see you guys had fun with that. Haha here are the key words from today's statistics.

1) britfit thewhy hey britney i like you i am a town

2) britfit thewhy i can send you any message i want to through

3) britfit thewhy is the sky blue

4) britfit thewhy this is joeyyyyyyy byers

5) britney fitzgerald nyc blog

6) the why britfit

7) bahahah britney this is what your sister googles when she is

8) britfit the why it's a town that was my old roomate earlier

So I think Sebouh and A Town are fighting via google key phrases, and Kathryn threw a search into the mix.

Yeah. You guys make me laugh.

Thursday’s Things New Yorkers Say

Valentine’s Day brought some interesting characters out all over town, and while I can’t even explain how much sugar I’ve consumed, I can tell you what I’ve heard on the NYC streets.

On the N train on the way to Bloomingdale’s:

“I told you my family doesn’t celebrate Christmas or any of the big holidays – only Valentine’s day!” She says to Him. “But why?” Him asked to She. “Because it’s the day of LOVE!” She practically screams at Him. “Oh duh,” Him replies to She – still slightly confused and defiantly amused.

In line at Dunkin’ Donuts on 30^th Ave:

The older gent in front of me is dressed in a baker’s apron and looking thoughtfully at a sign that promises 6 heart doughnuts for $6.99. “I want that please,” he says in Italian/New York/Old Man talk. “We are all out,” says one of the Indian women that I see at least 3 times a week from behind the counter. “You’re all out, ahh yeah? But I need those Valentine’s Day doughnuts…” he scratches his head and looks desperately uncomfortable. “I’m so sorry,” the woman says in her clipped accent, though she has probably seen one to many heart-shaped treats throughout her day.

“What am I gonna do!” The older man paces a little bit, preventing me from even thinking about ordering my coffee. The conversation was apparently not done, and we were obviously all in this together now.

“Will there be more Valentine’s Day doughnuts? I’ve gotta a guy… he really wants them! He wants me to buy them for him… and I think he wants to give them to someone else, see? There’s no more?” he asks.

What is this, the mafia? He’s got a guy who’s got a crazy broad, who’s got a crazy appetite…

“Um… there seem to be three in the back…” the Indian woman says. “Three?!” He replies. “Wait no I can’t have only three… I need all six Valentine’s Day doughnuts,” he resolves. “Well I think we’ll get more at 2 o’clock.” She can barely hold in her smile now.

“2 O’CLCOK! I’ll be back. I’ll be back for the Valentine’s Day doughnuts. I’ll be back.” I’m nodding, the Indian woman is nodding, the crazy Valentine-obsessed doughnut man is smiling and nodding… heck, I’m almost positive the whole line was happy the dude would get his doughnuts for another dude who was consequently giving the doughnuts to someone else.

“Everyone is crazy,” the Indian woman says to me. “We have been through over 200 heart-shaped doughnuts!” “Oh my gosh…really?” I respond. She continues to bob her head up and down. “Yes, yes. When will it end?!”

“Ha… probably tomorrow,” I say.

I hope that man got his doughnuts.

***

And speaking of Valentine's Day, look what my complication on Facebook sent me at Martha Stewart! Quite a fabulous little book that will hopefully one day explain our five year relationship of complexities. Haha thanks again Steve! It was a hilarious surprise, particularly when people working around me asked to see what I'd ordered...

The First Vlog

A little experiment... I wanted to see how long the vlog would take, if the video would upload, and wish you all a Happy Valentine's Day!