Monthly Archives: July 2012

Day Seventy-Eight – Can I Go Back To Bed?


There are few things in the world that I love more than my bed.

Tucked right into the corner of my bedroom, underneath the window, in the dark, cozy, and quiet basement of my house, my bed is like a sanctuary. Free from the noise and the constant motion of the kitchen, far from the blaring television in the living room, and full of warmth and comfort, my bed is my favorite place in the house. There is nothing better then the feeling of being able to snuggle up under my comforter at the end of a long and tiring day. I ordered a Queen-size blanket for my double bed, on purpose, so it would be extra big and comfy, and I cocoon myself inside it like a caterpillar every night, with no intentions of emerging. I am far from a butterfly when the morning comes.

When my alarm goes off, I moan and groan, wishing I didn’t have to move. It’s not even the activities of the day that I dread; it’s just that I know it will be hours before I return home, into my bed’s warm and welcoming arms. Pillows thrown from top to bottom and soft, jersey-knitted sheets hugging the mattress make my bed fit for a princess. But a princess’s lifestyle might be too busy – she’d have feasts to enjoy and castle matters to attend to and royal subjects to please. And so my bed is all mine, crown on my head or not.

As much as I love the summer, and I hope that my days off from work are sunny and warm, sometimes I hope that I’ll wake up to thunderstorms, gray skies, and cool winds. Days I can stay in bed, covers tucked under my chin, hiding from the outside world and watching hours of reality television in my quiet little haven.

There are few things in the world I love more than my bed.

And there are few times I’d rather be there than a Monday afternoon.



Day Seventy-Five – You can keep the Olympics out of the USA, but you can’t keep the USA out of the Olympics.


The day has finally arrived. Opening ceremonies for the 2012 Olympic Games in London!!! I’m so excited for all of America to behave with overwhelming ethnocentrism and talk about how much better we are than every other country. I know that sounds sarcastic, but I actually really enjoy that during the Olympics. Cheering on the USA and watching these tiny little gymnasts throw their bodies into the air and still land on their feet – it’s unreal.

I remember being very young, 6 years old, actually, during the 1996 Summer Olympics. My family used to spend a few weeks of summer in the Poconos, Pennsylvania. We’d rent a house and relax there, going to the pool, laying in the sun, and enjoying some down time. That summer, I decided that I was not Kristen Chuber…I was actually Kerri Strug, a 19-year-old American gymnast, who unfortunately, damaged her ankle during the games, yet still won a gold medal for the USA. Every morning, I’d wake up, force my grandfather to watch my “floor routine,” and skip around the living room in a leotard, before throwing myself to the ground in pain from my sprained ankle. I was a strange child.

This year, because my friends and I are mature, 22-year-old adults, we’re planning on celebrating by organizing some kind of Beer Olympics, featuring teams of two and every drinking game we can think of. The real summer Olympics.

Anyway, today Daniella and I were discussing when the Olympics were going to be held in New York City. And my answer was, “Hopefully NEVER.” And I feel that way for three main reasons.

1. Traffic

Traffic is one of my least favorite things ON THE PLANET EARTH. Like nothing stresses me out more than sitting in my car in bumper to bumper traffic when I need to be somewhere. Especially since I’m always running late. And as New Yorkers, we sit in enough traffic as it is. Rush hour or not, driving through any of the boroughs can be a pain at any time of the day. So let’s take a city that already has millions of people, always with somewhere to go, all at the same time, already hitting traffic, and throw an international sports event, featuring athletes from over 200 nations, right in the middle of it all. There will be. So. Much. Traffic. So no.

2. Terrorists

This is a no brainer. There are always threats of terrorism in the cities hosting the Olympic Games. I think NYC has experienced their share of terrorism for at least…forever.

3. Tourists

According to the 2011 census, 8,244,910 people currently live in New York, NY. Now add in the however-many people commute into Manhattan on a daily basis from Long Island, Westchester, Connecticut, and New Jersey. Now add visitors and tourists staying in hotels, flooding Times Square and wearing I ❤ NY t-shirts. A lot of people, right? Well that number will double, triple, quadruple if the Olympics were held in New York City. That’s a lot of crowded subways. And a lot of trash. And a lot of Olympic merchandise. And a lot of I ❤ NY t-shirts. And it’s too many people. Wayyy too may people. I JUST WON’T HAVE IT!!!

…But by all means, have them in Connecticut! That way the New Yorkers can still go and not have to deal with hassle 😉

I’m super excited to watch the Olympics, though. Especially the USA Women’s Soccer team, because of how close they came to winning the Women’s World Cup. Hope Solo…I want to be you.

Proud to be from the land of the free and the home of the brave.


Day Seventy-Three – #LauraProblems


Before starting this post I actually Googled “How to blog about your best friend without it being super gay.” I got no results.

Per her request, this post is dedicated to my best friend Laura, mostly so she can read it when she’s bored at the airport. She leaves this afternoon for Italy with her family for two weeks so I’m looking for a substitute BFF until she gets back if there are any takers.

Laura has been my best friend for almost eight years now which is SO WEIRD but pretty cool that someone has been able to tolerate me for that long. We were 14 years old when we met. Which means I still wore puka shell necklaces, Laura’s hair was still a full-blown 70s style afro, and we wore light blue polo shirts/plaid skirts daily, as students of The Mary Louis Academy. We met on picture day, when my lovely best friend looked a little something like this:

Hottest Chonga on the Block

High school was, for lack of a better word, eventful. From school dances to sweet sixteens, corner stores that sold us 40s to sake bars that let us drink although we were underage, we were always in search of a good time. We had a solid crew of four through most of high school – a fearsome foursome, known as The Party Crew (or at least that’s what we called ourselves….haters gonna hate). We shared secrets and Chinese food, hated all the same people, had nights we’ll never remember and others that I’ll never forget. She was my partner in crime, the LC to my Kristin, the chaser to my vodka and the #1 spot on my MySpace top 8.

Coolest Bitches in the School.

Fast forward to May of 2008, when everyone went into panic mode. I was off to Miami, and she to Binghamton, and although we were best friends, everyone had that sliver of worry that it would be hard to stay in touch. (Mostly because the Find My Friends iPhone app didn’t exist yet – how would I be aware of her constant whereabouts?) But I was lucky enough to have Laura visit me in Miami not once, not twice, but on three separate occasions, every one of which was an adventure in itself. I also paid two trips to Binghamton, and when we were both home in the summer, we’d cram as much time together as we could into those three months. We spent our time making our way through the douchiest bars in New York City (Turtle Bay, McFaddens, Calico Jacks…the bars we hate to love and love to hate), trying to order Dominoes long after they stopped delivering, creeping on 2014s and DJs and creating FUEGO LISTS (if you don’t know what it is…you’re probably on one).


I’m happy to say that after eight long years, and after knowing everything about me, Laura still wants to be my best friend. And so this post is dedicated to you, Laura. The best friend who will be the first to embarrass me in front of a group of people I don’t know but the last to judge me when I do something stupid.

Here’s to being best friends for another 8 years, until we’re 30 and hopefully married with real jobs but definitely still living the reckless lifestyles that we’re used to. Peace, love, and parrot stew.

And for your enjoyment, some photo documentation of the love-fest that is our friendship.


A shoulder to cry on….or sit on.


Some bunny loves you!

My number one bittie for lifeeee ❤

Love you Laur, bring me back a hot Italian man or at least some pasta<3

Day Sixty-Seven – Look Mom, I’m Domestic! Episode 1


New York City Restaurant Week has officially begun, and in the spirit of the season, Daniella and I decided to do some food preparations of our own. I had off yesterday from work, and after spending the day floating on blow-up rafts in Daniella’s pool, we had the idea to go food shopping and get creative in the kitchen. It was the perfect night to do so, considering it was only my dad and I in the house. My brother’s internship required him to be in Jersey for the week, so he’s staying with his roommate, Phil. My mom is taking a little personal vacation herself and visiting a friend in South Hampton (rough life, huh?), and my sister is just never home. Just me and Bill, holding down the fort. Well, and Abby of course.

Daniella was the head chef, of course – my guide to domesticity. (Is that a word? Domesticity – a state of being domestic. I think that works.) We hit up The Supermarket Formerly Known As Met Food and picked up supplies for the evening.


Tuna steaks, shredded mozzarella, tomatoes, peaches, potatoes, Romaine lettuce, onion, and fresh zucchini.

What we planned to make, Chef Daniella’s vision for dinner, was a three course meal:

First, a salad. Fresh Romaine lettuce, tomatoes, and diced onions, tossed in Olive Oil and Vinegar.

Second, a seafood dish with two sides. Seasoned and seared tuna steaks, roasted potatoes, and a zucchini side that Daniella needs to name, with bread crumbs and shredded mozzarella cheese.

Last, a dessert. Peaches coated in brown sugar and grilled till they’re soft. Yum.

Here are some pics of our kitchen-scapades:


First and foremost, be sure to always have a beer in hand. The kitchen gets hot and you’ll need to stay cool.


Roasted potatoes, seasoned with salt, pepper, garlic, rosemary and parsley flakes. Cook in the oven for approximately 30 minutes.


Zucchini a la Daniella, layered with bread crumbs and mozzarella cheese. Throw this baby in the microwave for 8 minutes and the cheese is perfectly melted and the zucs are cooked just right.


Tuna stakes seasoned with salt, pepper, and chili powder.


Peaches coated in brown sugar YUM.


Put all this stuff on a hot grill. Sear the tuna by cooking it for 3 minutes on each side. Leave the peaches on low heat while you eat dinner so they’re nice and soft by dessert.


The finished product (minus the peaches).

It ended up being a DELICIOUS dinner for Dad, Daniella and I, and we ate out on the new patio set that we got delivered (and Daniella helped to build) last week. The zucchini a la Daniella was probably my favorite part, for sure. We all agreed the peaches were an awesome end to the meal, although as Bill pointed out, they would’ve been even better with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side. Ideas for next time.

Yay! I’m one step closer to being domestic! I think I’m pretty much ready to be on the next episode of Chopped or Iron Chef at this point, so watch out for me on the Food Network. Thanks to Chef Daniella for her help and guidance.


Day Sixty-Two – A Quick Break


I don’t have much time to post today, as I have a bunch more work to finish up before I leave the office in a half hour. But I realized I never shared the beautiful picture I took the other day from Union Square.

Through some research I did while at work, I discovered something called Manhattanhenge, a twice-a-year phenomenon in NYC where the sun sets directly in line with the East-to-West running Manhattan streets. After work on Wednesday, I spend the afternoon on my own, reading a book in the park and watching street performers in Union Square. It was nice to have some time to myself to relax, and at 8:24 p.m., I got to experience this view:


Absolutely beautiful.

I’m sure other people got better views of this fantastic happening, but I was glad I got to see it with my own eyes. I suggest you all keep your eyes open for next year’s Manhattanhenge.

Given the world doesn’t end this December, of course. Then you all seriously missed out. 🙂

Day Sixty-One – The Life and Times of a Manhattan Gypsy


So I’ve been gypsying around New York City like a funemployed little bird having too much fun for my own good. But I’m back and ready to inform all the people who I force to read this what I’ve been up to.

First and foremost…Brooke visited from Nashville and we took NYC by storm. Brooke, and Indian in her past life, for sure, is like my spirit guide. So free and fluttering and flirty and fun and fresh and fit and fab! She was here Monday through Sunday, and in those 6 nights, I did more damage to my body than I’ve done all summer long. Regardless, it was the most fun I’ve had since I left Miami.

We frolicked through the streets of Manhattan, taking advantage of happy hours and men with money. Brooke experienced the magic of drinking from a paper bag on the railroad, perfect for summer when there’s no class. (See what I did there?) We skipped down the cobblestone streets of the Lower West Side in fiercely high heels, and drank in the view from the High Line, an elevated park in the city built on old railroad tracks. Later in the week, we traded in our party suits for swim suits and cliff jumped into pools at Mountain Creek, the most awesome water park I’ve ever been to. (Complete with vertical body slides and Tarzan ropes that you swing on into the water. Freakin’ cool.) We “coasted” a 4th of July party in my backyard, concocting a blue drink to celebrate America’s 236th birthday. Coasting, of course, is a word we invented that rolls off the tongue better than “co-hosting.” Brooke was a coast because she made the guacamole. And it was good. Really good. We closed out the week real strong, jumping on the ferry to Governor’s Island, where we danced for hours in our neon clothing, chalked hair and bindis as the sun set over lower Manhattan, and ventured back home through a thunderstorm. Such party girls we are!

But now she has left me…alone and scared and EMPTY without my spirit guide. Brooke – if you’re reading this, which you will be at some point because I’m going to post the link to this on your Facebook page once I’m done writing it and it would just be rude to ignore it – know that you are always welcome to stay with me and my roommates in New York. And even though I’m angry you left me, I shlove you to bits and you are a beautiful Cinderella! You smell like pine needles and have a face like sunshine!!!

Here’s some (Instagrammed) pictures from the week – prepare to be jealous.


Belles of Bell Boulevard.


The cast of HBO’s Girls at the High Line, NYC.


(take note of the neon and colorful hair)


Governor’s Island WHERE MY PARTY PEOPLE AT?!

And now I need a nap. Thanks, Brooke.

So that’s all for our show today. Stay tuned for Season Two ofThe Life and Times of a Gypsy, airing live this fall, when Kristen and Brooke are reunited in the city of angels – Los Angeles.

Kitty out. Peace and Love. Drop mic.