Upper West Side Femme

2011-05-30T20:37:00.000-04:00

Am I playing it too safe?

2011-02-28T22:03:00.001-05:00

Just celebrated a pretty significant birthday...the first, true leap into womanhood.

and it was zero crazies. zero neurotic tantrums.

my only thought was "how is it, that I am STILL a Christian-Louboutin-virgin?!"

MUST GET SHINY CHERRY-RED CHRISTIAN LOUBOUTINS ASAP.

is now my mission for the year.

january, a new decade

2011-01-25T23:31:00.000-05:00

snow, some T.I., malaysian take-out, strawberries + salt.

can't seem to stop 2011 from happening...but at least, i can savor some of the tangible niceties that make it all seem sunny/hopeful.

because the first of the little ones was supposed to come this year - we agreed on this years and years ago. and now it's the year, but it can't be...

because i want it to still be all about snow, some T.I., malaysian take-out, strawberries + salt...

and not about onesies. and not about the most adorable coos in the middle-of-the-night that make me burst into a fit of giggles and make me somehow forget that i haven't slept in months...

not yet.

2010-04-25T22:36:00.000-04:00

Just started taking an intro 9-week black & white photography class in Union Square. It's been really fun and taking photos is all I've been thinking about...This could be the start of something worthwhile (since my poetry & essay writing has gone shot to heck).

2010-03-29T22:34:00.000-04:00

At 22 years old, recently graduated from college...I had a choice to make. Follow my fiercest, wildest dreams and move to New York City. Or choose love.

I chose New York. And me. I chose me.

2010-03-02T20:04:00.000-05:00

Riding a crowded B train into work this morning, I couldn't help but notice all the different New Yorkers around me. Everyone was minding their own business; either reading or listening to their ipods. Strangely, I felt a kinship with them. And thought, in what other city will I ever have the experience of riding alongside strangers in a subway, being exposed to the whole diverse lot of them, and feeling that we are all somehow connected? If I was any where else in the world, I'd perhaps be tailgating some lunatic, with pure road-rage and trying to beat morning traffic...

It's true. One of the main reasons I moved to New York is because I hate driving.

my love-hate relationship with New York continues...

home is where the heart is...

2010-02-15T14:59:00.000-05:00

It's a brand new year.

My little sister just got married 9 days ago. My beloved Saints just won their first Superbowl. I just celebrated another birthday 3 days ago...

And Vietnamese New Year was yesterday.

I've refused to set goals for the past few years. But I've got to now...Because I can't live in in New York City anymore. Living here for the past six years made me realize that I will always be a Louisiana Girl.

Cajun Girl.

Girl from the Bayou.

Shame on me for thinking that I was better than Louisiana. For thinking that Louisiana will never give me what it is that I think will make me happy.

I've got to figure out how I can move back to Louisiana...

2009-09-19T00:28:00.000-04:00

There are many woman things that I eschew. Like wearing sunglasses because I feel they hinder the wonderful panoramic view I have of life. Baking chocolate chip cookies from scratch because of Pillsbury. Always leaving my hair down, because as much as I love that hair whipping in the wind feeling, again I feel it sometimes hinder the wonderful panoramic view of the places, people, buildings I see all around me. Being cordial/lady-like all the time because I can't help having a tawdry mouth. And wearing matching bras and panties.

It's like I'm a man sometimes. I hate showing signs of weakness and will not even let The Texan see me cry at sad movies. I love steak and beer. I only wear cologne. I use Old Spice Body Wash. And when I buy a car, it's going to be a big ole red Jeep. And if Icould get away with it, I'd wear ripped stonewashed skinny jeans with a classic white button down shirt and a gold Rolex everyday.

Man I am.

2009-08-09T15:06:00.000-04:00

i wonder how it's possible to want so many things at any one given moment...wanting summer to last forever, yet wanting Labor Day weekend to quickly arrive so I can go back to Louisiana to see my Mama, my little Sweet Pea, my monster Izzie and the rest of my family. wanting to buy a new rug for the living room, new china, new curtains and a new couch...wanting to get my very first Chanel bag, and wanting to add another bag to my pitiful LV collection. wanting a new signature fragrance instead of my signature Jean Paul Gaulthier Le Male cologne that smells so deliciously soapy clean on me. wanting to be rid of old demons, but need to somewhat dwell on them sometime and remember the angst so they can inspire whatever writing i can magically sum up. wanting to always go back to my favorite places to eat (Bar Bao, Prohibition, Cafe Ronda) but still try new places and never having the time to do it. wanting to re-invent my look and try a new hairstyle, a new wardrobe, but wanting to stay good ol' familiar me...

2009-05-25T22:43:00.000-04:00

Shopping in the West Village on a lazy Saturday.

Boat-watching at the Central Park lake.

Burger Sunday at Shake Shack on 77th & Columbus and seeing Bobby Cannavale.

Inadvertently going clubbing at a very chic rooftop bar with the Texan and playing wing-woman to his two amigos.

Going for all the crawfish claws at the best manhattan crawfish boil ever on top of tiny, cozy midtown rooftop...

yes, what an amazing Memorial Day weekend I had...

2009-04-29T00:02:00.000-04:00

It was a weird April night as I made my way back to my cozy UWS apartment from the office. It felt more like a late summer night instead of early spring...it was crazy breezy and warm, litter is flying everywhere, making me carefully maneuver my way up the sidewalk and barely missing a dirty remnant of someone's morning newspaper by a hair. A saucy character walks past me and says "howdy girl" as if he knew I had ties to Texas, but how? Lady GaGa's "Let's Dance" anthem is still pounding on my ipod, with her duet partner Colby O'Donis' hypnotic voice cooling my nerves. Pharrell singing “Boys Remix” with Britney back in 2002 had a similar effect on me; his voice was like silk and I never forgot it. I’m watching my shadow on the buildings and I can see my deflated curls still bouncing in the breeze. I could not wait to walk inside the door and rip off the layers of pearl necklaces I had layered around my neck. And kiss my Texan hello. Everything seemed so nonchalant, semi-charmed on the surface tonight. But it was so the opposite...

Hello Cherry Tree...It's been a while.

2009-04-11T17:11:00.000-04:00

It's "spring" in Manhattan.

I went to work the other day without a scarf for the first since November. There's a beautiful cherry tree on 105th street that saw its little green buds shyly surface, getting ready for their resplendent bloom. And yesterday, I spring-cleaned my cubicle. Recycled a year's worth of fashion magazines and all my old files and presentations. I then went on a "delete" rampage with my Lotus Notes...Every insignificant email was exterminated forever from my database. Nothing was spared. Yet, I still feel clogged.

I am finally going back to Louisiana next week, the first time since Christmas holiday. I can't wait to see my family, my Sweet Pea, my Izzie-Boo. Eat crawfish. Go to Walmart. Walk bare feet in the grass. Make a mess in my Mama's kitchen with my faltered attempts at cooking a Vietnamese dish...Feel summer on my face in the middle of April, because it's already 85 degrees down there.

The truth is...as much as I love Manhattan...as much as I feel like this is the only real city worth living in, I always freaking wonder why is it...That I felt like I had to come here to discover myself. Why did I choose a career that is only possible/lucrative in Manhattan?

I guess I had to come here....To realize what it is that I really want. A life in Louisiana. A house in the Garden District in New Orleans. Or a house by the LSU Lakes...I want family reunions every weekend. Going shopping with my sisters. Sitting on the sofa next to my mom while my feet safely warms up under her backside.

A Stroll in Chinatown

2009-03-22T22:48:00.000-04:00

When we're out and about around town...I like to think that we're a movie. A romantic comedy. Him the incredibly authentic Texan guy. And me the lovingly neurotic heroine with the sunshine smile and pithy one-liners.

A Leap

2009-02-05T22:57:00.000-05:00

The Texan took this of me...It's so far, my all-time favorite photo (for now). It's me taking a leap, being the forever hopeful. It was back in 2007. We were at our almost-secret place in Louisiana for a second time. It was such so picturesque and unassuming yet intense, that place. The kind of place that made you feel tingly all over from the sweetness in the air. and the kind of place where you can leave everything up to happy chances and no plans are necessary. the kind of place that when said out loud, all of my crazy idiosyncrasies sounded endearing like my love for crepes, all kinds of crepes any time of day, savory and dessert, and my phobia of hand-shakes...yes all of those weird things about me...he found delightful...in that place. right there, the garden by the lake.

2009-01-31T23:53:00.000-05:00

it's 2009. it's the craziest of times. i'm newly married. with a husband. a real husband. the kind that wants a real meal on the table everynight but is too sweet to expect me to slave in the kitchen. the kind who grinds away on his laptop every night, making deals happen because he sort of promised me the universe. the kind of guy who does our laundry every Sunday and shrinks every beautiful sweater I have from Anthropologie and kisses me good morning every morning. and i don't know how i got here. to this place. where life keeps wanting to lurch forward. when i just everything to stand still. unmoving, in this newlywed stage, when tenderness pervades every moment, where dinner every other night is candlelit and he brings me tea in my favorite pink daisy cup...AND AND...i want my mama to stay the way she is and i want my adorable nephew Izzie to stay 3 years old for at least another ten years, until i'm ready for him to go to pre-school. and i want to stay in this perceived state of half-adult, indefinitely, forever. i want to stay little miss obsessive and not get over people's insensitivities because getting infuritated and staying infuriated is always more fun anyway. i want to stay always in love with Marc Jacobs, although I am slightly peeved that he up and got married to some Brazilian without warning me. but i know...things wane. and things get old.

2008-04-21T22:30:00.000-04:00

Boy, am I an old maid. Long gone are the days when I used to bar-hop from the West Village to the East Village with my forever New York Girl and our dimpled chauffeur from Brooklyn. We'd stay out until 4 am, sometimes 5, but never made it home before 3 am, she the ever effortless social butterfly, and me sampling the girly shots at the bar, what with a designated driver and all. On those nights, our goal is to always dance freely, get a few of the fellas' numbers, and leave just as classily as we arrived.

This past Saturday night, I put on my signature black leather bomber and finally made it out to an East Village bar for one of my closest gal pal's "I'm moving to L.A." fete. The scene was hip and the air electric, I'm walking amidst happening divas hitting it up with the downtown boys to find my friend for a hug, a special ruby-concocted drink and a begrudging kiss farewell. It was easy, she was the only one wearing a tiara. After a few "hey babys" and some unnecessary, unaccidental nuzzling, I left the scene and walked out into the crisp spring air, capped by a planet-speckled night sky, exhaled loudly and thought, yes..I'm too old for this crowd. I hopped into a taxi and thought about what was waiting for me back at my UpperWestSide apartment: a warm bed...and a warm guy.

2008-04-16T18:58:00.000-04:00

I still get celebrity crushes...and I'll nurse them until the clouds condense and I fall hard to the ground. It all seems very adolescent and foolish, but it's fun to visit fantasyland once in awhile. However, I've never been partial to the pretty boys of Hollywood, not Leonardo, neither Brad Pitt, and I never quite understood the appeal of George Clooney. Instead, I've always been drawn to the altruistic, flawed guys with the huge chip on their shoulders. The guy who falls ferociously in love with you, but still turns his back on you because he's got another life to save, another mission to complete. The kind of guy who jumps out of windows onto a waiting horse and gallops in hot pursuit of the bad guys, or the kind of guy who will single-handedly hunt down an entire gang of mobsters to avenge his ladylove. For this reason, Kiefer Sutherland for the longest time, held a sole monopoly on my affections. Pierce Brosnan too, also had a strong hold onto a tiny crevice of my heart for being the best James Bond ever. And now it's come to...Hayden Christensen. I loved him as Anakin Skywalker. There was always something dark and brooding about him and that was the kicker. I fell...

It was the same way with the Texan. He's this sweet, kind, country-homegrown Catholic mama's boy who saved me from that debacle years ago, when I lost my innocence, when I thought every shred of young was ripped out of me...and I lost that dreaminess that always made me, me....he came along, took me for a spin and made the rescue. he said, "come to the show." and I've been addicted ever since.

2008-04-14T16:45:00.000-04:00

Delicious Mediterranean tapas in an intimate alcove of a Spanish restaurant with my favorite New Yorkers. All-you-can-eat tacos at Mercadito in Alphabet City on a lazy Sunday afternoon. People and puppy-watching in Central Park and drinking fruit punch in the warm spring breeze. Holding hands with the Texan as we meander through the East Village, pondering in which neighborhood we should buy our starter apartment...yes, I had the perfect weekend...

2008-04-10T16:34:00.000-04:00

I started shooting still life recently and this is my favorite shot.

It's 70 degrees today. Finally a taste of spring in New York and I'm ecstatic. I'm digging out my vintage-print Kenneth Cole espadrilles and I'm going out for a little skip.

A Southern Rite

2008-04-02T14:11:00.000-04:00

When the Texan and I go back to Houston, the first place we always go to is Thai Spice. We always order the pan-fried Tilapia, steamed mussels, and sauteed veggie delight with tofu. Washed all of that down with a Thai Iced Tea and I can nap happy.

Tall Tales

2008-03-28T00:44:00.000-04:00

Do you ever just wake up one morning birthing completely different convictions from the day before? Last night, after watching the movie "August Rush" on my Continental flight into Houston, TX, I decided right then and there, that I was going to follow what practicality has always feared: becoming the next Kandinsky. And then I woke up this morning and I was a wannabe hard-core advertising exec once again.

What a tale it is, to be spoiled by options. I once met a megalomaniac at a bar on 35th Street and he told me that his only vice was being spoiled by options. What kind of options, I asked.

"Oh you know. Brunettes from my job. Brunettes in the apartment above mine. And now, you."

I scoffed and took a sip of my Courvoisier and Coke. And I stared. At this physically flawed, blue-eyed man in the expensive Hermès shirt. How is it, that YOU, have that many options, I thought. Maybe it was New York that produced him, this megalomanic, walking around in circles and circles thinking he had all the time in the world to hunt for whatever it was, that was worthy of him giving up his freedom, that one thing that makes hims say "i do. now and forever."

Maybe I'm one of him too. Because I've dabbled Here and There. Explored those options. All for my self-gratification, no matter who it hurts.

2008-03-24T23:33:00.000-04:00

Mr. Chimney,
Where has your house gone?

Smiles on the Street

2008-03-20T12:14:00.000-04:00

Last week, while shlepping through Soho in my 3 inch corporate black pumps on my way to a job interview, I took a turn on Greene Street hoping I could find a private nook to pull up my annoying thigh-length pantyhose (it was 40 degrees outside and I could not not wear them). Despite the cold air, it was a gorgeous sunny day in Manhattan and usually, I'd feel an uplift, but today I was thinking of home and crawfish season and how much I missed it.

Drinking my Starbucks passion tea, I scanned the storefronts, trying to walk normally as if the pantyhose wasn't already around my ankles, when I see a man in a baseball cap bursting out of a building with luggage, with a leggy blonde in tow. He puts the luggage in the trunk of his car, which is conveniently parked right in front of the building and when he turned, he looked up at me. He smiled. It was such an effortless, warm smile. I smiled right back and realized that it was HANK AZARIA. The crazy girl inside of me screamed "are you freaking stupid, go up to him and say something, get a photograph with him, do something, don't just NOT do anything! It's freakin Hank Azaria!!" But the jaded New Yorker in me won...I just gave him a glance of recognition ("well helloooo tha, Ha-ank") and let him go on about his day without interruption from a nutty fan.

Those little moments, exchanging smiles with a stranger (who happens to be a famous actor), is why i love this city. This city that wants to keep me so far away from my family. Far from my little cherub godson whose feet is growing exponentially every week, and whose favorite word is "bubbles."

2008-01-24T23:07:00.000-05:00

I miss you, New York.
Although I can't tell if you're that quirky barista who keeps giving me extra whip cream on my frozen frappuccinos. or if you're the guy who stole my seat on the B train heading downtown to 14th street.
Either way, do you miss me?