7 posts tagged “nyc”

...That I didn't have!  Duh.

Whenever the weather gets nicer my mood instantly lifts (hmm...weird.  I bet that never happens to anyone, ever).  I've taken to waltzing about my little nook of town and discover.

In my recent commuter trials & tribulations (of sorts), I've found myself with a much shorter fuse than usual.  I have literally said the following things aloud to strangers:

Come back for more...

I am the worst.  This is totally not my fault.

My laptop died.

Which means I am currently coverting it up on the 45th floor of a Times Square high-rise.  I plan on coming atcha live & in living color this evening from my aunt's laptop...because right now this is just plain too risky, plus um, I have a job that I am getting paid to do while I'm here writing to all 2 of you?

In other news, I'm pretty sure finding an apartment slash roommate is harder than finding a job.  Manhattan, just hand me your habitation wealth and wares, please!

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...Needless to say, I'm
 

So, the title totally ruins this for me, but I suppose I can’t always do the bait ‘n’ switch—or at least I need SOMETHING to maybe even somehow keep people interested.  The truth is…

 I got a job.  At MTV.

….WHAAAT?  I know, it is still surprising me, too.  And to say I’m overwhelmed would be what they call an understatement.  But it’s true.  I am apparently totally rad enough to work at MTV.  Boy oh boy, I hope I get to meet Lauren Conrad!!!

Anyway, the highlight of that day (what I liked to call Speed-dating For A Job), was definitely seeing, live and in living color, a one Mister Anderson Cooper.

Let’s get a little back-story going.  I watch CNN.  Like, all the time.  Like, more times than most in my demographic ever set their eyes on CNN.  Maybe even more than my grandparents (though my grandfather is a sucker for that damned Bill O’Riley; fair and Balanced, people).  I sometimes would say that I live and breathe it.  One time I saw Larry King with my friend Ali walking outside a Starbucks, looking like the star-studded, 80 year-old leathery spray-tanned fetus that he is—complete with a leather biker jacket and those sweet, sweet, high-waisted jeans—and that was like when twelve year olds see those spunky High School Musical kids.  Only I don’t hysterically scream and weep with joy.  Often.  In any event, I love CNN.  Everyone on there is pretty much fantastic (oh, except for Lou Dobbs.  He, well…I can’t with him.)

So I was standing outside of MTV waiting for a friend of mine that also happens to work there.   With a mutual friend of ours.  We were—at first—busy laughing at the fact that a certain singer of a certain band that names rhymes with O.A.R., was wandering around the 1515 building for 45 minutes (I know because I was there waiting for that long), occasionally getting on the phone waiting to be noticed by people—and continually being IGNORED.  It was hilarious—truly sad how some people feel more important than they are.  However, at a certain point a couple of unidentifiable origins and completely unplaceable accents were asking where the Empire State Building was.  (p.s. it is definitely NOT in Times Square.  The entire city of New York and its attractions are NOT centered in a 5 block radius.  Just an FYI.) 

(Here, this is for you, so you can set the scene.  Press play, read on)

Let me set the scene for you.  It’s maybe 50 degrees outside, nearing 5:45, almost 6 PM.  There are crowds of tourists on the corner of 44^th and Broadway, and I am half trying to explain how to get to the Empire State Building, half trying to just get these people to leave.  Suddenly, the doors open and a light shines from within the building.  “Dream Weaver” by Gary Wright starts playing, and everything goes in slow-motion.  Out, walks a man of 6’-something, silvery hair and a glistening smile.

Anderson motherfucking Cooper.

Now, I rarely ever get starstruck.  Not to sound like the douche-du-jour (but I will), but I’ve met a fair share of “celebrities” and don’t get too phased, really.

But I was the biggest slopdog pile of babbling fangirl over Anderson Cooper.  I was mid-sentence with the rando couple and stopped speaking, staring at Anderson Cooper while I grabbed Karen’s arm, repeating (at least three times) “Oh…oh my god that’s Anderson Cooper.  It’s…it’s Anderson Cooper.  Oh my god I love him.  Oh my god.”

 The rando couple didn’t know what the hell—or who the hell—I was going on about.  They may or may not have thought Anderson Cooper was a street (he should have one named after him), or a subway stop.  Or maybe even the cab driver that would bring them right to the Empire State Building.  But it didn’t matter.  All I wanted to do was reach out and say something witty to make him laugh and magically bond us as BFFs.  

 …Instead I said “hi Anderson Cooper!” while staring, as his handler rushed him away.  He nodded, stoically.  So he acknowledged my existence.  So really, that’s all I need.  I can now die happy because I was anonymously acknowledged by my supernewshero.

 I’m pretty sure this means I can go to Claire’s for the BFF necklaces now, yeah?  It’s so definitely not too soon.

...Oh yeah, did I mention I totally got a job?  My BFF is so good to me, getting me a sweet-ass job at a totally rad company.  He’s so thoughtful!