Day 44

And I saw Mr. 44. President Obama. Or his motorcade anyway.

Just as David, Amy and I were coming back from the Wash U event at the Times building, the NYPD were giving a dandy little parade down Houston. We decided to wait for a bit (not that I could have crossed the street to get back here if I wanted to), and sure enough a battalion of motorcycles blazed through, followed by a series of black SUVs and an ambulance (eek, too real). David thinks he saw Obama's silhouette in the biggest SUV. They were moving so quickly I don't know what I saw, but I thought I saw someone. Still, it's probably the closest I'll ever get to the most powerful man in the world, and being a patriot, I was pretty excited.

It's fitting that I saw the Presidential Motorcade on the same day I went to the NY Supreme Court. David had to wait for some papers, so I took the chance to check out legal life (it's nice that there's still a profession more scorned than journalism, isn't it?).

The court is rather artful. There's a rotunda that honors other judicial systems and icons: Greeks and Romans, Jews and Catholics, The Egyptians, Lincoln, Marshall, and Moses.

Looking around, I realized that this is our cathedral. Other countries have Westminster Abbey, the Vatican, Notre Dame. How pretty to think that in our country the cathedral is a court and the G-d we share is Justice.

Good night!

Day 43

And part of something.

It somehow happens that every time a situation arises this summer, Basic Black has a response. In fact, the two things seem to coincide seamlessly.

Well today I finished Basic Black (finally!), including the bit that says to round out your life by taking part in community affairs.

I also went to my first T and V planning session today. Even though I mostly kept quiet and observed, I liked being part of a group again. It feels so right to sit on a committee. It's a huge part of feeling like I belong here. I have a role in it now, a stake in NYC.

Gnight all.

Day 41

And contented.

There are some nights that remind me just how much I love this city.

The rain washed away all the heat and humidity of the past few days and left us with a perfect evening. I read my book, watched the storm, took a walk and got some fro yo (Ben and Jerry's chocolate fudge brownie, yum!), but then after nightfall I was starving again.

I just love stepping out into NYC. I always feel shocked when I look up and remember where I am, no matter how many times I do it. It's just nice to walk out into a city that's always awake, always alight, always bustling. I got my pizza and headed home, but I wish I could have walked for a while. There's just something about nights like these.

Gnight.

Day 40

And my date book is as empty as empty as it's ever been.

Not that I keep a date book. I don't need a planner to remind me to get a job, which is the only legitimate plan I have right now.

On the upside, tonight I got to do something fun. Bianca, a fellow former Martha intern, invited a bunch of friends out to a club tonight. I figured I may as well go since Bianca was so much fun last summer and my schedule has been so empty this summer.

If I thought marching around the City in sneakers was cause for complaint, then totting around the City in heels is cause for amputation. Ow.

But dancing is always fun. And meeting Bianca's friends was fun, too. They're all in similar fields: illustration, design, advertising. So we commiserated.

I left the second club just in time to get caught in a rainstorm. It felt great to cool off, but the slipping and sliding around my heels caused potentially irreparable damage. Again, ow.

So my dance card's a little empty these days. At least I got the chance to do some fun things in the City this summer. Maybe when I come back I'll get to do some more.

For now, I'm glad to be going home for a bit. Just a bit.

Unless, of course, one of you faithful few wants to hire me.

Gnight.

Day 39

And sorry guys, it's about to get religious.

Tradition is something that by definition has to be clung to. If you don't keep it up, it disappears and it can't come back.

I don't go to temple to be closer to G-d, I go to be closer to the Jewish people. It's the tradition I want.

I've been synagogue shopping, and the one I went to tonight had a good thought on one of the pages:

"More than the Jewish people has kept Shabbat, Shabbat has kept the Jewish people."

That was the basis of the rabbi's (?) speech, too: keeping Shabbat. But it was also about how we should not lose sight of what we're keeping when we say we're keeping Shabbat. In other words, don't forget the spirit of the law while you're trying to stick to the letter.

By the end of the sermon, I was nothing so much as confused. Sure, I've asked Chanie, a Chabad rabbi's wife, if she ever does any actual resting on Shabbat. I always thought sticking to the nitty-gritty rules made Shabbat less restful than say, driving to services or ripping your toilet paper right off the roll would. But on the other hand this synagogue's musical service, though pleasant, felt really wrong for me. It made temple feel like a concert the way those Obama t-shirts they sell in Union Square make the president seem like a rock star.

I finally got to hear familiar tunes and they were coming from an electric guitar.

I'm just saying I miss what I know. It's not right or wrong, just familiar.

Good night.

Day 38

And sniffly.

Just a bit. Just enough to make me tired and hang out in my apartment most of the day.

But I did manage a few accomplishments.

Like poaching an egg for the first time:

Actually, I screwed it up the first time. That was the second time. The egg was so "jumbo" it had two yolks. Wowsa.

Yes, I know that it is entirely too obvious that I took a picture of a picture on my phone. But as you can see, it couldn't be saved, and I had already started eating, so what was I to do?

Looks pretty good, right?

Next time I'll add hollandaise. Not the biggest fan of the texture, but the taste is good.

My post-poaching plans included a walk in the park to spend a little time with my book, Basic Black by Cathie Black (then president of Hearst Magazines, now Chairman).

Washington Square Park is a breeding ground for unusual sights (esp. 00:45-00:57 the

same applies to WSP).

I particularly liked this one:

Yes, the pigeons are climbing all over that man. What's funny is that a few minutes earlier, another man sat there and the pigeons gathered from far and wide. They left when they realized he wasn't the man with the goods. He left when he realized the pigeons had the advantage in numbers.

I spent the rest of my time in the park talking with a nice Greek/Italian man. He told me how his family moved from Greece during WWII, how his father was arrested and his mother carried him around because the Germans liked his blonde curls and Aryan face. When his dad was released they fled again. He spent a good amount of time in Sicily before moving to America as an adult.

He reminded me to marry Jewish. Christian himself, he has a son who married a Jew and a daughter who married a Palestinian. Talk about a house divided.

He thinks Jews make better husbands. Love that stereotype.

I finished the day off with a little dance practice for exercise. Health goal, +1. Who's keeping score here?

Gnight!

Day 34

And looking forward to tomorrow?

It's silly how ambivalent I feel about tomorrow. On the one hand I'm excited: another day to hang out with Steph a little, I get to see Jared and his dad for lunch, and (of course) it's another chance to get a little good news. On the other hand, I'm nervous: it's another chance to get some bad news.

Every weekend is a little relief. No potential employers can email me. No jobs get posted. I can relax.

Monday morning gives me something to look forward to and something to fear a little.

But I'm keeping a level head, really. I won't let myself hang everything on one job. I've applied to a bunch of places. Maybe one of them will hire me. It'll be ok if I get rejected. Just move on to the next thing. Really.

Today Stephanie and I visited the MoMA, which was interesting-ish. Again, it was cool to stand close to something Van Gogh made himself. Steph also helped me with one of my goal three projects: learn a little French. She says my accent's good.

What's the French word for anxious?

Je sui anxieuse.

Good night.

Day 33

And putting my Nikes to the test.

Today seemed like an endless walk. David came over early to pick up his bags, and we walked up to breakfast at the lovely Gramercy Park Hotel, where our "aunt" Yvonne and "cousin" Stephanie were staying. Gramercy Park is extra nice because you can only use it if you live on the perimeter and have a key...which we didn't. But the rooftop breakfast was like dining in a tranquil greenhouse.

Steph's staying with me, so we took her stuff back to my apartment, then took her to meet her friends uptown for a summer program(s) reunion.

Meanwhile, David and I got on a six train so crowded that it couldn't make the usual stops. So we got off and walked. We got iced/frozen teas. And walked. We stopped at stores. And walked. We checked out the farmers market at Union Square. We tasted cheese that had a 27 Zagat rating. We bought maple candy, scoped out artwork, and walked.

Then we crashed. For about three hours.

My Nikes are scuffed. The once-white mesh is gray. Health goal: +1

Gnight.

Day 32

And still no call.

But thank goodness it's the weekend. I can't get a call now, so I have to relax.

Today I got to experience a New York institution: Restaurant Week!

Restaurant week is actually a biannual, multi-week event (this summer it's two weeks). Certain (read: fabulous) NYC restaurants agree to offer prix-fixe menus for dinner and possibly lunch. And we lucky ducks get to try these legendary, famous, delicious meals at what amounts to be a terrific discount. David and I decided to test it out on a whim.

Then we hit a snag: we keep kosher-ish.

The prix-fixe menus include an appetizer, entrée and dessert. Most desserts are dairy, so that limits our already limited options. Plus there were so many restaurants, we hardly knew where to start.

Thank goodness Jared has more experience in this matter. One g-chat message to him and we had a slew of recommendations and reviews. We considered Morimoto (you know, the guy from Iron Chef), but they weren't taking reservations anymore. So we landed on Tau.

I'm so glad we did.

On 58th between Park and Madison, there's an oddly un-corporate stretch of facade. A nice gent outside helped me with a door that weighed roughly the same as a baby cow, and I crossed through the windowed antechamber to the main event.

I blinked at the dark chamber before me. A lineup of hostesses said...nothing to me. This place is so cool. Eventually, one of them noticed me squinting into the darkness and asked if I had a reservation and another sent me into the lounge to wait for David.

This place is so cool.

I settled into a sleek leather couch against the wall (David later stared at it for a few seconds, debating whether it was meant for two). The lounge included rows of leather benches that would be totally indistinguishable from their companion wooden tables if they didn't have arms. At one end was a bar.

Sitting against the wall I could see a sliver of the dining room. Chic patrons moved in and out, like a mismatched runway show. The music was so soothing and the atmosphere so dark and open, I couldn't imagine how I was still in New York City.

The dining room took it to a whole other level. The back wall featured a one-story Siddhartha. To the left and right were lofted dining areas. I sat on a cushioned bench with cushioned dividers to separate my seating area from my neighbors'. On my right was an accountant (?) turned culinary student and his dining companion was a funny Jew. They made for great entertainment. Our server never stopped smiling. She hovered far away, then appeared just as we needed her.

The service was as good as the food. That's saying something.

It turns out Tau does the prix-fixe thing every weekday at the Restaurant Week price of $24.07. So if you like, you can have this meal year-round.

One reason we chose Tau was the non-dairy desserts. Asian food doesn't usually mix meat and dairy, so we didn't have to worry about sticking to one or the other.

We split our appetizers: Chicken satay with a peanut dipping sauce and vegetable egg rolls with duck mustard sauce. Well worth burning my tongue. (I knew the roll was hot, I just tend to ignore that kind of thing.)

We asked our servers (Smiles had an assistant) to leave the peanut sauce. David really liked it.

Next came Hangar steak with seasoned fries. Lovely. I love steak, even (especially?) in its

simplest form. This was not steak as I know it. It was more like a beef dish in a delectable sauce. It was sweet, but mild. Almost like butter. The fries were crispy and the seasoning tasted like BBQ chips without the spice.

For dessert, we each had a mango sorbet in coconut milk with fruit. My dessert philosophy, "Fat tastes good," applies here. Coconut milk is not diet food, it's an indulgence. I especially liked dipping my spoon under the surface, not knowing what fruit I would get. Lychee was a nice surprise. The coconut milk had a dulling effect on flavors that are often too tart. I liked drizzling it over the sorbet and watching it harden.

It was a terrific experience, like being on the set of a show. A midday treat.

Good night!

Day 31

And pensive.

It's funny coming home to no one. Sad in its solitude, soothing in its freedom.

Driving on the highways around Manhattan, you can see the whole City at once. You can even see the people through their makeshift curtains, eating their dinners, laboring over projects.

The City looks so solitary out on its own with nothing to insulate it. Even its neighbors give it a wide, watery berth. The bridges from here to there are spindly lines tossed afar. They are not leads. They are not ties. The towers silhouetted against the blocks behind them are defiant in their height, but when you look down, you see they're practically floating on an island that was built upon itself.

All of New York rises from nothing and climbs to unseeable, unreachable heights.

Day 13

And connected.

So today I went to the pride parade. No, wait -- today I was in the pride parade. On a float. How about that.

So I thought it was going to be really out there, out of my comfort zone, out of the norm, and parts of it were, but actually, it was just a fun thing to do. I didn't love the attention on top of the float during the parade, but I did enjoy the people.

The float was for a group called COLAGE. COLAGE is for the children of lesbian and gay couples, and really anyone who needs it. Since my friend Avi is a part of it (four dads, two moms, and a boatload of friendly), I got to hang out with the COLAGErs. I loved the shirts that said "I (heart) my dads" and "Turkey baster baby" -- complete with turkey baster graphic -- and the signs that said "Heather isn't the only one with two mommies," but the best part was the way people reacted to the group. They all wanted hugs and photos.

It's pretty cool that so many people come out (haha, come out) for this event. There are so few groups that can command that sort of attention from insiders and outsiders alike.

As cool as the parade was, I have to say the best part of my day came later. On my way back from Ciao Bella where I got a scoop of mint (made with mint leaves!) and a scoop of chocolate (made with the entire annual output of Hershey, PA?), I ran into three people I went to high school with. It was just so nice to see some familiar faces. This city isn't really so big.

And it better get smaller. In the spirit of connectedness, and the goal I set earlier this week, I talked to a contact in the industry tonight. Her advice: don't just apply, find a connection and follow up. Eeep. I hate networking.

But she's right. A resume just isn't the same as an inside connection. So I sent out a couple emails. I can still feel my teeth grinding. I really hate networking. It's just so pushy and awkward. Four contacts down, one to go. Tips?

Good night.

Day 9 (the original post)

And frugal.

How to have a perfectly New York day with about $12 (actually, I did it in about $6, but I already owned a few things):

Today started lazy. My friend Yana had already told me she couldn't make it to dinner after all, so I had no plan. My brother texted me that Jimmy Fallon would be on the Engadget Show and the taping was not only free, but minutes from my apartment. I considered it while I browsed a blog that kept me in stitches for an embarrassingly large chunk of the morning (and evening, actually): Cake Wrecks. I inevitably checked the Jon Stewart show and found out that today was the only day in the foreseeable future with available tickets. Jimmy or Jon, techy or funny? Funny wins.

So I headed out, grabbed a bagel and cup of ice (yes, they charged me for ice) at Bite and got on the subway where I dumped the ice into my Thermos...and lap. Sub-total for me: less than $3. Sub-total for others: about $5. I already had a MetroCard.

Out on the West Side, I got in line between 3 and 3:30 p.m. The line wrapped around the corner. It was a long wait, but the studio was kind enough to provide unlimited, ice-cold water bottles. The interns manning the line told me I could still get in without a printed confirmation as long as my name was on the list (it was) and I could show them something (a picture on my phone of the confirmation email). When they came around about an hour later with tickets, they didn't even check the confirmation picture. I just gave them my name and received a flimsy ticket clearly printed off a computer and cut out (badly) by an intern. My cost: still less than $3.

Samantha Bee walked by. She really is always pregnant.

They brought us into the studio around 5:45 p.m. I wasn't the only loner in line, but the loner in front of me stopped off at the bathroom. So when they needed to fill one seat in the front row, they directed me right up front. Cool!

There were some unexpected faces in the audience. An older woman (65 maybe?) kept her fingers in her ears while she scowled at the loud music they use to pump up the crowd. Another woman--botoxed within an inch of her life, but still obviously past the 70 mark--didn't move a muscle, even when the hilarious warm-up act singled her out as "the fanciest woman" he'd ever seen. Then again, maybe she found him hilarious, too, but couldn't afford the laugh lines.

The point of the warm-up guy was mostly to remind us that the Daily Show needed us to laugh: "If Jon goes two seconds without saying anything, that means there was a joke and you probably missed it. So laugh."

Then they brought out Jon. They warned us he was short. Let's put it this way: he's mostly face. But a very nice, and funny, guy. He chatted with audience members, fielded questions (I tried!), and made cracks about his appearance.

When the show started, they said they'd pan the audience, so we had to go nuts. They didn't, but we did.

It went off without a hitch. Boy, there is nothing glamorous about TV. Those newsrooms in the background aren't even real set pieces. Some are, but most of it is projected on screens (I could see silhouettes moving behind them--wait, wouldn't the silhouette be moving on the screen? Language is funny.) After the show, they taped a piece of the international edition. Jon conversed with international audience members about their soccer teams. I kept expecting him the make a joke to the Slovenian woman in the back, but he was genuinely complimentary about her team. It was really odd to see the character Jon Stewart joke about the same things the human Jon Stewart was so serious about moments before.

I have to say, if you get the chance to see a taping in NYC, take it. It really is a lot of fun.

Actually, on my way back (cost to me: still <$3 -- hmm, weird broken heart emoticon-- cost to others, about $7.50) I saw a crew filming a young woman with teased blonde hair wearing a glittery gold dress and makeup that was comically obviously supposed to convey that she had been crying. The scene was simply her getting into a cab as far as I could tell. I didn't pay it too much attention. I was hot and hungry, so I figured I could splurge on an iced coffee from Think Coffee. Sub-total for me: <$6, for others: $10.50.

The downside to this day: I didn't eat very well.

I came home, snacked and whipped up pasta from a box ($1 because it's from Whole Foods, but you could do it for less). On the upside, I have enough pasta to last a week. So let's call it $6+ for me, $11+ for you.

Bon Appetite.