I am not dead yet.

Angry French men are the worst.

Especially angry French usher men with power trips working on Broadway shows. My very first Broadway production was tainted by such a fiend.

Savannah and I saw Monty Python's acclaimed 'Spamlot' this evening. A production that won Best Musical in 2005. It was spectacular, more than I expected!



However, an angry French man almost ruined it for me.

Well, his mother was a hamster and his father smelt of elderberries.

Savannah and I were seated next to stack of programs and the usher was nowhere in sight. People kept bending over Savannah to reach them, so Sav just picked them up and handed them to people who wanted them.

After awhile, the AFM (angry French man) came back over and said, "Is handing out programs your job?" in his snobby French man tone. Sav told him, indeed it was not, for we were but simple lasses hoping to catch a show. Abruptly, AFM snatched the programs away and gave a snort.

Savannah and I were appalled, but soon got over our issue once we saw "The Slippers." Bunny shaped, they were everything we had ever wanted and more. They of course portrayed the 'monster' rabbit from both the film and play. The same bunny that might 'nibble your bum.' They were also ridiculously expensive.

Let down twice before the play even started, once by a man with a penchant for aggressive ushering and once by a pair of fuzzy slippers, we were beginning to doubt the show could be as good as we'd hoped. But it was much better.

Savannah and I also went to the Forbes Magazine Museum today. It showcased the history of Monopoly, with different Monopoly boards throughout the ages. There was also an entire room devoted to jewelry by famous designers. I was in heaven.



Savannah by an old Monopoly board.



Me by the many Monopolies of the World.



Rain makes for a dreary New York. The angry natives become even more disgruntled and the tourists seem to become even more disorientated and lost, causing them to stop suddenly in the middle of sidewalks, crosswalks and my way.

Maybe I could blame the rain for getting lost on the subway today. Savannah and I must have gotten cocky in our ability to maneuver around town. I was just getting comfortable with this whole public transportation thing when we managed to go too far, go back too far, get on the wrong connection, and finally stumble onto the wrong street. All within a matter of minutes.

We made it, eventually.

Good news, Mom! The Peeping Tom I believed we had living across the street turns out to be just a pipe someone has hanging out of their window, and not a telescope. It was dark out! Cut me some slack!



Possible telescope...

Law and Order gave me the wrong impression.

I am a diehard Law and Order viewer. Much to Justin's dismay, he often found Law and Order: SVU recording on his DVR. It was not my parents' constant nagging about the dangers lurking around every Avenue that really freaked me out, it was the episodes of SVU where a college girl was brutally attacked that made me cautious.

The subway was always the worst in the episodes. Filthy, with homeless beggars, overly crowded sub cars, and shifty-eyed men, the subway was infested with the worst of everything. So, when I first ventured down into the L-Train, I was uneasy. However, it isn't crowded. There are very few homeless people (save the nighttime when they want to get away from the elements), and there are always police on the platform.

About the only thing L&O had down was the rodent problem. And even that didn't become apparent until last night. We had just come from the premiere of SATC:TM (which was awesome, btw), and as we made our way back in our fabulous heels and dresses, I was just beginning to believe that there were no rats in the subway.

Ever since the first time I stepped onto the subway platform I had pictured myself falling into the tracks, unable to get back up. what would happen? I imagined myself in the movies, where they duck in between the two tracks and the subway goes right over top of them. However, I have begun to worry my butt is too big and would eventually be grazed by the bottom of the train. It didn't help that on the first trip down Savannah relayed a horror story about a man who fell down and was stuck down there so long, three subways came and went over top of him. It may be morbid, but now, as we walk through the streets of Manhattan, I often wonder if a crane will crush me, or if a crazy taxi driver will run me down like Frogger as I attempt to cross 34th and Broadway.

Death by taxi. Death by subway. I pondered newspaper headlines.

I know I am not the only one who ponders death by subway car, or worse. In her latest, Sloane Crosley writes, "As most New Yorkers have done, I have given serious and generous thought to the state of my apartment should I get killed during the day. Say someone pushes me onto the subway tracks. Or I get accidentally blown up. Or a woman with a headset and a baby carriage wheels over my big toe, backing me into some scaffolding, which shakes loose a lead pipe, which lands on my skull. What then?"

On this night, on the platform, my roommates and I waited for the L-Train that would take us to 1st Avenue. We saw a bunch of clothing laying in the tracks. Underwear, shoes, notebooks, t-shirts, all strewn about in dirty water. As I tried to get a good view of the litter, the underwear...moved.

I shrieked. Dancing underwear in itself is a sight. But watching a rat crawl out from under it is even more disturbing. The closer I looked, the more rats started appearing. Before my eyes, the subway was turned from a place I affectionately believed was portrayed inaccurately in Hollywood, to an ugly petting zoo.

Death by fear of rodents. Death by possessed underwear. Today's top story.


JUST A SMALL TOWN GIRL, LIVING IN A 'HOT MESS'

Walking around in New York can be intimidating. Everything is larger than life. Everything is expensive. Everyone looks expensive. I take that back. As Sav says, there are two types of people living in NYC. Those who can dress, and those who can't. And those who can't...really can't. However, those who can, often brush by you dressed in their BCBG dresses and Armani suits and make you feel insecure about your own clothing choice (Something that is very new to me...). Sex and the City last night brought out the best.

Strappy stilettos and Chanel earrings on the ladies, and Versace clothing adorning all the gay men waiting to comment on Carrie's wedding dress. And believe me, those gay men are vocal about criticizing fashion...and about the people who try and butt in line in front of them. I have never seen two gay men fight, but I came close last night! One of them affectionately coined our tightly packed line to the theatre as a 'hot mess.'

The 'hot mess' today turned out to be getting ourselves un-lost in Rockefeller Center. One of my roommates and I decided to look for the New York Public Library where Carrie chooses to have her wedding in The Movie, as well as see the Chrysler Building. It took much longer than anticipated since, as women, we have no natural sense of direction.

I also finally got to see where I would be working on Rockefeller Plaza and go into the NBC store. If Dwight Schrute had a kingdom, this would be it. Wall-to-wall Dwight bobbleheads wobbled gazes at me as I searched the store. I finally got my NBC Universal shirt as well as an "I <3 Jim" tee.

Pretty productive day.

Don't Get Carrie-d Away...

Well put me in a pair of Manolo Blahnik's and call me Carrie Bradshaw! I'm in New York City!

I am living every little girl's dream; being Carrie Bradshaw. I am a fabulous, underpaid, well-dressed journalist in The City. Tonight Sav and I are going to see Sex and The City: The Movie; which I will henceforth refer to as simply SATC:TM, because it will save my fingers from inevitable carpal tunnel.

Sav started her job today, so I am forced to brave The City alone. I need groceries. Even now, my stomach is growling. I also need a coffee. The 4:00 am wakeup yesterday to catch my plane really grounded me, if you know what I mean.

The apartment sitch is nice. More spacious than I had anticipated. Cleaner too. We had a mishap with my keys, however. My front door key is a stubborn son-of-a-gun. After much hard labor, Sav and I decided to make friends with my neighbors, to see if anyone of them would be able.

We met Mike, an NYU student. Very friendly. After much hard labor, he was finally able to get the door open. We graciously thanked him and began to walk inside. However, poor Mike, startled at the possibility of helping two attractive out-of-towners, had locked himself out of his apartment.

Sav, always ready to lend a hand to a city boy, quickly lended him her cellphone. Afterwards, we walked inside. I'm not sure if he ever made it back in...haha.

The real adventure, however, started once we got inside...
I have two other roommates, but there are only two bedrooms. Since I was the last to arrive, I sort of got the last pick of everything. Which is fine, I would have done the same to the poor girl who came in after me if I were first. Instead of sharing a room with one of the girls, we decided if we moved my bed to the living room we would all have our own rooms. We would just partition my "room" off with a curtain. Sounded good to me. On the off chance the girl I shared a bedroom with snored, I wouldn't have gotten a wink (many of you know about my weird mouth noise phobia).

So Sav and I set off to move the bed from the second bedroom, down the hall, and into the living room/Tracy's bedroom. Thank goodness it came apart. We were able to pull one of the end rails off and drag it out. But the top rail and the actual bed part wouldn't come apart. Savannah even resorted to banging her shoe like a hammer. Nothing was working. Finally, we jimmied the thing apart by using leverage from our body weight and the bedroom doorframe (Thank you seventh grade applied science). It took us another 15 minutes to get the darn thing back together in the living room/Tracy's bedroom. I'm pretty sure Savannah will have this story up as well, maybe with a picture. Be sure and check out her blog as well!

I slept very well, despite being in a new place. I was exhausted. I froze however. New York is not as warm as I had previously thought and that blanket my parents sent has yet to arrive...

Flyin' first class up in the sky, livin' the life in the fast lane and I won't change, by the glamorous, ooh, the flossy, flossy!

The tickets are purchased, the bags...well, they aren't even close to being packed...

But I'm ready!

I can't wait to be in The Big Apple. Savannah already has plans for us, and she has promised to be tour guide when I arrive. Be sure to keep up with Sav and me. This may prove to be a very eventful summer.

I leave May 28, 2008.

Good bye, Columbia. Goodbye, old life.