Topics of conversations around all things girly!

Thursday, September 4, 2008

NYC: Day Three!

I am writing to you earlier tonight. Yes, my dears, I've had too many cocktails. Apologies in advance for any misspellings or general oddity.

Today we had our second client visit - this time in Midtown, off of 55th street. Jon, our client, actually has a retail store. Very exciting for us as most of our clients do not. Just as we did yesterday, Becky and I get up and walk around. We stop at the corner bakery but decide against their bagels. Becky does, however, get her yogurt and granola cup. Becky must have her yogurt. It's true.

We stroll back around to Murray's bagels and get our NYC bagel on. This time I am good and get a spinach with low fat cream cheese. Becky gets multi grain with strawberry. I also get some fresh squeezed orange juice. We head back home and eat our deliciousness. We are cautious not to send ourselves into a bagel coma (as we did yesterday) by eating the whole thing. Two-thirds will do just fine. Becky, ever the homemaker, makes us tea. There are Lipton tea packets conveniently placed on the counter. We watch more of the Republican convention, Sarah Palin this and Sarah Palin that. Is there not anything else happening in the world? Becky asks me to taste the tea. I do and agree that it tastes funny. Arsenic. Just kidding...but maybe? We dump the contents of the mug. Tap water will do just fine this morning.

We get ready. Hmm, wonder what Michele is wearing? Could it be that mustard yellow cord skirt? Well lookey there, it sure is! This time I pair it with my ivory Anthropologie shirt and a beaded necklace. On go my Faryl Robins. Our car is ready at 9:15 and we head out. Traffic is especially bad today since the NFL Kickoff show is in NYC and they've blocked off ten blocks to accomodate the large crowd. Ugh. Nevertheless, we arrive in just enough time to grab some caffeine (desperately needed as sleep has been scarce.) We enter a store next to our clients and notice the sign: 'Gluttony makes you unbuttony.' We laugh and drink our tea.

Our client is actually legit. They have a sign and are located in a prominent area of NYC - in stark contrast to yesterday's client visit. We ring the bell and are buzzed in. Up the stairs we go to the 3rd floor. We knock and wait, and wait. (Kinda like on the subway.) After not getting a response, Becky mentions that she noticed an elevator on our way in. We truck down the stairs and get into the elevator - again, another stark contrast to yesterday's meeting as there was no Spanish profanity on the inside. 3rd Floor dings and we arrive in the retail space for our client. Impressive. We are greeted by Jon who leads us into his meeting area. Carpeted...nice. He introduces us to his SEO, Brian. Mahin sets up the cute little projector. We begin.

After our meeting ends, we explore the retail shop. It's a small but appealing showroom. The many kinds of hidden cameras, gps devices, and hiding devices are interesting to look at. Bluetooth devices, ties, baseball caps, alarm clocks, wall clocks, fans, and mirrors all contain tiny, pinhole size cameras. It quickly makes us paranoid.

We depart for La Bonne Soupe ( where I've made reservations for 4. Jon, helping a customer, will join us later. I head up with Becky and Brian. Small talk goes on while we wait for Jon. Becky and I get the soup/salad/bread/dessert/beverage selection. The men get ginormous salads. Brian is a vegetarian. More small talk continues and we get onto the topic of politics - usually a no-no with clients but it's such a hot topic right now. Sarah Palin's speech is all over the place. We manage to artfully dodge the awkwardness and get through the conversation with finesse. Nice job team. We depart.

Becky pays the bill and we are off to Rockefellar Plaza. My Faryl Robins are starting to ache, but they look so good with my fit I trudge on. On our way, we see the famous 'LOVE' piece and take pictures. Such tourists we are. On our way, we pass by St. Patrick's cathedral. Like the good Catholic girl that I am, I take a picture and go inside. It's really quite beautiful. It rivals Grace Cathedral in beauty and beats it in size. I capture a few crappy pictures with my camera. I want to show Grandma. Becks and I walk around and are entranced by its beauty and creeped out by the crypt beneath us. Becky, who is Lutheran, or as she describes it, 'Catholic Lite,' does not know what a relic is. I explain and tell her that Presentation has Nano Nagle's finga in the church. Uh huh, it's true.

After walking the length of the church, I decide to light a candle (a suggested $2 donation is given.) I choose the shroud of Turin looking place to pray. I think of Grandma and how often she goes to church. Guilt sinks in but I smile as I see Becky waiting for me. We call Mahin to see where she's at. Close by. We sit on the steps and cool off. Traffic, however, is still being disagreeable and Mahin is not very close. We decide to meet in Rockefellar Plaza. My feet, puffy from the heat, are starting to blister.

Trudging along, we view Rockefellar Plaza (the place where the ice rink is at Christmastime). Flags galore. But I spy an Anthropologie store! Holla. I make Becky enter with me. She's hesitant as she's not a big shopper, but in the end she is the one who ends up buying itmes (2 darling tops) and not me. Alas, I am saving myself for SOHO - which, by the way, is South of Houston (like SOMA, South of Market for you San Franciscans). Houston is not pronounced like the Texan city, no sirree. It's pronounced like Howston. Tip for you amateurs out there. Anyways, Mahin eventually makes her way there. Excellent - Jazzy Fresh united!

The three of us make our way to Banana Republic and Crabtree and Evelyn (Becky gets a lavender hand scrub.) Suddenly, I hear music and I know. I know it's what I wanted to see: Bboys! Quickly I follow the sound of the beat and see a line of bboys getting down amongst a crowd of people. Air chairs, popping, locking, and upside down bicycles all entertain the crowd. I cheer them on, wanting to see more. Impressed and satisfied with today's viewing, we move on.

We keep going, making our way to Bryant Park, the scene of this year's Fashion Week 2008. My cousin, a freelance photographer for Conde Nast, will be working there next week. I will try to connect with her. It's all tented up but we can still see this year's theme: Vote for Fashion. Ok, I will.

Tired, we hail a cab and plop ourselves down. Visons of Pinkberry dance through my head. Yes, we will cool down with some Pinkberry and showers. Becky takes our belongings up and Mahin and I walk across the street. Gimme, gimme. We take it back and enjoy every bit of deliciousness it offers. Showered and refreshed, we rest and catch up on email and the like.

Becky is meeting her friend RaeAnn, I am meeting Mark, and Mahin is meeting a friend. We dress and get ready and head out one by one. Mark calls me to let me know he's about 2 minutes away. I wait for him on the streets and invite him up to view the awesome palace we are staying in. He's blown away. We decide to fly by the seat of our pants and choose an area and restaurant completely on whim. We go to the Village (near NYU) and walk around. The place we like to go, Bar Pitti, is jam packed - it's a popular celebrity restaurant. We decide to keep walking.

Garage, a hip restaurant and bar, lures us in. Let's eat! But first, drinks! I order a strawberry martini and get a funny look. What? It looked good. Conversation about the good ol' publishing days begins and we laugh and reminisce about the golden era. It's nice to see Mark. We eventually head back.

I am the first home and Mahin comes right after. Her night went well. Becky and RaeAnn come home after that and girl talk starts in the hallway. Politics and voting and womens issues come into play. We discuss and voice our opinions, yes, the four ladies in the hallway. Go Sandra Day O'Connor! Mahin retreats to bed and I do the same after some picture taking (this album is gonna be memorable.)

The night, again, is late and we just can't seem to get to bed at a decent hour. Alas, I continue to blog and drift off into sleep.

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