Friday, July 31, 2009

state of the union

I'm not sure why but I have become obsessed with my apartment. Today I actually spent a legitimate period of time looking up danish modern chairs on ebay. I have sketched and resketched my living room to scale trying to figure out a better way to organize it (too many doorways! not enough wall!) and even used the stitch assist on my camera to take a panorama of the room with the intentions of sending it off to apartment therapy. If I read about another craigslist/flea market score I will probably scream. Outloud. And then max out my credit card with "totally expected" furniture from Urban Outfitters. I mean, it's ridiculous. I can hardly dress myself, let alone a room. I don't even know how to reupholster things! Now excuse me while I go move my tv console a thousand times (only to have it end up in the same place) in the hopes that it will become danish.


Wednesday, July 29, 2009

when it rains

The thing about living in the city--a thing I had forgotten since I left Montreal-- is that rain is one hundred times more disruptive than when you live in a smaller town. There you sprint to the car, curse yourself for forgetting to get new windshield wipers, and grip the steering wheel while listening to NPR on the way home. In the city you sprint to the subway, where you curse yourself for forgetting a bag to put your umbrella in. Then you wait ten minutes for a train where you realize that it is so humid in the tunnel that it is actually going to start raining inside from the condensation. This will remind you of that time you saw Saves The Day in high school, and so many emo high schoolers were thrashing around in such a small room that it starting raining from the rafters, pouring the sweat of strangers all over you. Only this time you're not high on boys in girl jeans and second hand smoke, you're high from the phenergan you took that morning when you had a hellacious migraine that was making you nauseous enough to have to sit down in the shower at 7:23 am. If prescription drugs were your friends, phenergan would be your maid of honor, so much do you love its ability to zap nausea. Well, honestly, it might be more of a guy-you-hooked-up-with-four-years-ago-and-now-occasional-booty-text-on-thursday-nights because phenergan does its job mightily but causes you to pass out immediately afterwords. Which is why you walked around like a space cadet today, eating smartpop white cheddar popcorn and photocopying unnecessary documents just to stay awake.

happy wednesday, let's hope for clearer skies in the morning.

Thursday, July 23, 2009


I don't even have anything clever to say, this is just ugly.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

an open letter

Dear Barneys,

When I think "Slouchy Sweatpant," at best, I think something like this:

Mmm, homegrown Canadian goodness. Perfect for running to the depanneur for peanut m&ms and a 40 of Labatt. Can't you feel the fleeciness?

At worst, after a hit of acid, I think of something like this:

This is what happens when you go skiing and instead of packing your longjohns, you inadvertently pull out a pair of your mom's old maternity spanx while rummaging through rubbermaid bins in the basement. They're giving a mannequin a cameltoe and I'm pretty sure most standard mannequins don't even have labias. I don't even care that they were originally $340 dollars, and that for $340 I could probably fly to Tunisia and purchase a camel from which to procure my own toe, what really gets my goat is that they are dry clean only. WHO THE FUCK WOULD DRY CLEAN SWEATPANTS? Can you imagine the look on your dry cleaner's face? He/She surrounded by wire hangers and signs from the 80s saying things like "Wash, Press, and Fold $.50/lb?" Blasphemy.



Monday, July 20, 2009

top ten of the weekend

10. I got paid at the end of last week, which was, in a word, delicious. My first grown up paycheck. I'm sure I'll be complaining about how small it was within months but to me it was huge.

9. My apartment is kind of starting to look like a place where people live. Not happy, well balanced people, but people who take showers and have a plant and occasionally iron.

8. When putting together the aforementioned apartment I realized that every single thing in my living room is beige. This sort of worked in my Nashville house, with its dark hardwood floors, but with the blonde hardwood? Not so much. Went to Anthropologie to look at their rugs (so colorful on their website!) but was dismayed by the quality. Anybody have any suggestions before I hit up IKEA? Correction, would anyone like to come decorate my apartment? I'll hand over my preferred pantones and my mastercard if you'll just do the damn thing.

7. Jason Bateman is on the cover of details. Check please.

6. Went here for dinner during restaurant week. Would normally be a bit pricey for yours truly (who, let's not forget, paid rent on two houses during the month of June) but I might sneak back to have the eggplant parmesan "traditional and revisited" appetizer again due to its ridiculous level of tastiness. Traditional is a little warm lump of gooey goodness, and revisited is a cold eggplant mousse with diced tomatos and fluffy cheese (sorry foodies, well worded critic I am not). Cold eggplant? Sounds disgusting but I assure you, you will be making awkward moans the whole time.

5. Went to Ralph Lauren Rugby after work to look for button downs (my favorite shirt is the plaid one from there that Jennifer from The Most Awesomest Stuff Ever found for me, the woman is a goddess) and let me just say: the sales people in that store are obnoxious. When I asked for another size, one actually mocked my request to another standing three feet from me. Harsh dude.

4. Spend Friday night and Saturday afternoon in Connecticut visiting a friend and going to the beach. T'was wonderful. For some reason I failed to realize how close to the beach I am now that I live here. A pleasant surprise.

3. Bought a window fan for the apartment. Am no longer awaking in the middle of the night covered in sweat with feet that have swollen double their size.

2. Finally went to the grocery store (a week in a new place without so much as a carton of milk is a little sad). As I had my friend's car (from the CT trip), I wanted to stock up on everything liquid that I won't want to carry when it's gone. Returned with: 1 carton of milk, 1 jug of OJ, 4 twelve packs of diet soda, 3 jugs of diet Arizona Iced Tea in varying flavors, a 24 pack of water bottles and enough toilet paper to haze NYU's entire freshman class.

1. Starting to feel more less like a refugee and more like a real person.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

an open letter

Dear CHI Hairstraightener:

How dare you. The only reason I spent upwards of four million dollars on you was because I expected you to last forever, not just two years (and let's be honest, you had pretty much checked out six months ago). I can't get off the train from Brooklyn in Manhattan with frizzy hair it would just be so...expected. So while I'm at work today take some time, put things in perspective, get a ceramic massage, and see if you can't pull it together for this evening. I'm counting on you.


Friday, July 10, 2009

moving in the city

This uhaul contains all of my earthly possessions and can currently be found parked on the sidewalk in front of the Fairfield Marriott, Long Island City, Queens, New York. This is the moving truck I drove 15 hours from Lexington, Kentucky, through the winding hills of West Virginia, through the small towns in Pennsylvania, through Newark, across the 1-9 to be denied entrance to the Holland tunnel (no moving vans since 9/11), back to Newark to turn around at 11:00 at night, across the New Jersey turnpike, through the Lincoln Tunnel, across midtown Manhattan, through the Queens tunnel, before parking at the Marriott.

It was all worth it though because yesterday I found an apartment. Park slope, two bedroom, ridiculously expensive by my standards but a good price by New York's, with laundry in the building. Sigh of relief. The problem with having OCD is that apartment hunting is extremely painful. Moldy bathrooms, dingy carpets, stray hairs in uncleaned sinks, it's all enough to make a person lose their shit in front of a broker who is two feet from your face at all times going "so, so what do you think? huh? huh?" and who tries to convince you that an extremely tiny spiral staircase leading up to the attic bedroom is AWESOME instead of a deathtrap.

Since I found a place yesterday, I can spend today in the Red Hook IKEA buying a kitchen cart (new apartment has no counter space. and by that I mean there is a sink, an oven and a refrigerator. literally not one inch counter in space) and strolling through the MOMA with my mom.

From New York with Love,

Monday, July 6, 2009

root root root for the home team

Am currently at a Nashville Sounds baseball game (minor league baseball=hilarity), enjoying my last night in the south (well, tomorrow night will technically be spent in Kentucky but not important). I went to the record store to pick up an album for Little Brother's birthday tomorrow, hit up my favorite dive bar for one (okay, two) of my favorite girlie mixed drinks (which tastes like a melted sno-come), and now am listening to rednecks scream at an umpire. Although I'm optimistic about my new job, and settling in New York, lord knows my heart belongs below the mason dixon. Needless to say, while tomorrow officially marks my final departure to the big apple, it's safe to sat I'll never be a yankees fan.

things that are annoying

  • losing my deposit on my place in Nashville
  • not having a place in New York
  • being too scared to look at my credit card balance
  • being out of eggs this morning
  • repacking all of your belongings that you just unpacked.
  • realizing that all of your belongings did not magically become consolidated and organized since the last time you packed them.
  • not having seen any good television in the past week.
  • the fact that the last moving you saw in theaters was "Year One," which was, in a word, fuckingterrible.
  • not having enough free brainpower to write legitimate blog entries.
  • getting your period for the second time in three weeks (seriously, that is beyond unacceptable)

Back in the big apple (my new home sweet home) on Wednesday. I'll be the girl in the uhaul desperately begging for a parkslope apartment that will only cost me 80% of my monthly income. Love, Hannah

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

big lights big city

Hello internet, I feel like it has been so long since we had a meaningful exchange. I am way too exhausted/scattered to write to you in a logical, coherent way, so you'll have to make do with the following crude bullet points:
  • Job: Office manager/receptionist for a firm in Manhattan. That's all I can say about it since the employee handbook explicitly prevents me from blogging about the company by name, or in a way that could allow it be identifiable. What you need to know is that a) I think I'm going to like it, b) a family friend hooked me up with it, c) I feel extremely professional going into the city and sitting in an office with people who may or may not be the smartest people in the world (even though so far all I do is listen to the woman training me and internally freak out because it is so much to remember).
  • Moving: Am in the city for this week to do training and look for a place. Will head back to Nashville on Friday, stay for the following week to pack up (and cry because I'm leaving the south, which we all know pains me to no end), then coming back up the following week (July 13th for those of you who can't add weeks without blackberry calendar). It's sort of exhausting.
  • Living: I would rather convert to scientology then look for an apartment in New York City. It is absolutely miserable. Brokers fees! Ads that say Williamsburg but mean Bushwick! The G train, which connects to NOTHING. It's all pretty miserable. If any of you currently reside in this metropolis and have advice for me, any and all of it would be appreciated (or, you know, just find me a place to live. My budget is "as cheap as humanly possible," I need easy access to the 4, 5, R, M, or L trains, and I will turn down a place IMMEDIATELY if the landlord shows it to me without cleaning the bathroom. That's disgusting).
All for now, will post more when have quick moment to breath into between Au Bon Pain bagels and sprinting for the express train.