Tag Archives: NYC

Day 191 – The Do’s and Don’ts of TGE


Thanksgiving Eve has finally arrived. 

As a college student who was away, far away at school, Thanksgiving was always a much needed break from classes, tests, and the whole Miami scene for a few days. It was nice to come home, experience a little bit of Autumn weather, have some home-cooked meals, and catch up with family and friends. But most importantly, I looked forward to coming home for the highly anticipated Thanksgiving Eve celebrations. I’m not sure what it is about TGE that makes it so great – maybe it’s the fact that it’s a night dedicated to drinking solely because we all have off from work the next day. Or that it’s a night of excessive drinking in honor of a day of excessive eating. Or that it’s a night that has been so commercialized that although it’s a Wednesday, it’s still the biggest party night of the year. Hell, who am I kidding? It’s ALL of those that make it so great!!! As college students, it was the night that we got to come home, meet up with everyone we grew up with, and drink to the memories. You’ll take pictures with the people you hated most in high school, drunkenly resolve long-term conflicts with girls in other “cliques,” and seriously consider getting back together with your high school ex-boyfriend.

Yet while obscenely fun, TGE can be a night of mistakes and mistaste. And so, for us mature grown-up college graduates sitting at work this morning contemplating tonight’s events, it’s important to remind ourselves what is and isn’t acceptable behavior for Thanksgiving Eve.

The Do’s and Don’ts of TGE

Don’t think you need to spend a ridiculous amount of money on some “Thanksgiving Eve Special” at an overrated club.
Do spend a little extra dough – visit a classier watering hole, splurge on the fancier drink, or buy a round for your group.

Don’t start Thanksgiving early by drunk-feasting on pizza after you get home.
make it a full-night affair. Grab dinner before going out on the town (a.k.a. put some food in your stomach to get you through the evening).

Don’t drink yourself stupid. It’s not worth it. Imaging trying to stomach courses upon courses of delicious Thanksgiving food with a hangover. The stuffing won’t taste as good coming back up.
Do drink enough that you’re not annoyed at how crowded all the bars are.

Don’t go to any place where you used to go in high school, and therefore, have the potential to run into ex-boyfriends, obnoxious girls, or worse…actual high schoolers. Remember, everyone is out tonight. Probably even your teachers.
Do go to some of your favorite current spots where you know you always have a good time.

Don’t AND I REPEAT DON’T plan on getting the 3:00 AM LIRR “drunk train” home. Literally. It is the worst decision you could possibly make. Even if you go all night avoiding annoying, underage, sloppy, wasted, obnoxious partiers, THIS is where they all end up.
Do crash at someone’s apartment or take a cab home at the end of the night. Worth it.

Don’t over-think the night and put too much pressure on yourself to have an “epic Thanksgiving Eve.”
Do go out with the intention of having fun. If you’ve got good drinks and good company, you’re sure to have a good time. Even an “epic” one, at that.

Stay safe, have fun, and ignore your ex’s texts tonight. Cheers!

Have a good Thanksgiving Eve! And a Happy Thanksgiving! 🙂


Day 189 – Can’t Be Hateful, Gotta Be Grateful


Okay before I start this post, we need to visit this video:

And a quick response:

While this video seems kind of wrong for a couple of reasons (why is that guy spending Thanksgiving with a bunch of 12-year-olds whose parents aren’t home, why he is dressed like a turkey, why did this little girl cook dinner all by herself, why are they eating mac and cheese…etc), it’s so catchy, and I can’t deny having watched it quite a few times already. And also I hate my parents a little bit for not giving me my 3 minutes and 38 seconds of fame as a 12-year-old, but I’ll get over it.

Moving forward.

This Thursday is Thanksgiving and I don’t know where the time is going. If you’ve been following this blog, it’s been more than half a year since I graduated college, which totally blows my mind. I honestly have to say, though, I don’t miss it nearly as much as I thought I would. I’m enjoying the new lifestyle I’m adapting to up here in NYC. And I don’t even hate the cool weather that much (yet).

In the spirit of the season, I want to share 10 things I’m definitely thankful for, in this first six months of post-grad life, both serious and not-so-serious things.

10. Having a job. When so many people are jobless and the word “unemployed” is thrown around like a hackeysack, I consider myself lucky to have a job, and one that I actually enjoy at that.

9. Seamless Web and the ability to get whatever food I want delivered right to my door. Allows me to not have to choose between being hungry and being lazy.

8. The magical moment that Pandora radio loads a new song even though the LIRR has dipped underground and there shouldn’t be service.

7. My awesome friends who let me crash at their apartments every weekend instead of trying to venture back to Queens drunk at 3 a.m.

6. Free shipping on orders over $100.

5. Coffee.

4. Laura getting her driver’s license. Hehehe.

3. The snooze button.

2. Charlie Brown holiday specials.

1. Living in the best city in the world, NYC. The city that never sleeps, the city that can recover from a hurricane in a week, a city that is home to so many different types of people. A city with happy hour specials every day of the week, a city with a subway system that smells bad but is convenient nonetheless, a city that can always show me a good time.

…Oh, and the obvious 3-day workweek this week. Super thankful for that.

And speaking of work, I guess it’s time I get back to it.

Hope everyone enjoys their Thanksgiving Eve parties, Thanksgiving dinners, and post-Thanksgiving Dinner comas. Can’t be hateful – gotta be grateful.

Happy Tofurkey Day!

Day 170 – More Trick, Less Treat


Needless to say, Halloweekend came to a much more serious close than anyone would have expected. And Halloween has never felt less like a holiday dedicated to candy, costumes, and scaring people. Hurricane Sandy did enough “scaring” for a good, long time.

It’s been a rough few days for people in the Northeast. While we were given warning of this Frankenstorm’s coming, and heeded the warning for the most part, I don’t think anyone really expected the magnitude at which she would hit us. Electricity was lost all across the tri-state area, trees uprooted and thrown on top of houses and cars, subways and railroads flooded and debris strewn across the tracks, dooming commuters to days of difficult and dangerous travel.

The news has never been more heartbreaking. Views of Breezy Point and The Rockaways in Queens, and Long Beach, Long Island, were the worst for me; watching these areas flooded, broken, burnt to the ground was truly hard to watch. With so many friends residing in or near these areas, it put a pit in my stomach to think of them losing everything that they had once called home. My thoughts are with everyone who was put in such a horrible situation.

My family and friends are lucky enough to all be safe from harm, and enjoying electricity, heat, and cable in our homes. Yet our neighborhood itself suffered quite a bit of damage. Fallen trees in the streets make getting anywhere difficult, and wires and street lights lay dangerously on the corners of many blocks. With no railroad or subway service, we’ve been a bit stranded and are working from home, lucky at least to have power and Internet to do that. While I am definitely suffering from a bit of cabin fever, and am devoted to finding a reason to change out of sweatpants today, I know I should count my blessings because in the wake of this disaster, I truly am one of the lucky ones.

The Chuber Tree-House

Daddy’s shed out back…eek!

Cars are ruined, houses damaged, but as usual, the one thing that always stays in tact is New York’s strong and solid disposition – we will get through this.

The rewarding thing is watching New Yorkers (and those from New Jersey and Connecticut, as well) pull together and reach out to help one another. Even in my own town, we saw and heard stories of neighbors opening their doors to those without electricity. Those reaching out over Facebook and Twitter to offer help and assistance to those who needed it. Volunteers going back into flooded areas to save friends and neighbors who chose not to evacuate. Just like in other devastations, just like we always have, New Yorkers looked out for each other, and stood together.

I was happy to be home in NYC this weekend, regardless of it all. I think had I still be in Miami, I would have felt helpless and out of place. No matter what the weather, there’s no place I’d rather be than New York. My heart goes out to those who have lost their lives, their homes, their belongings, and the places they made some of their fondest memories, from Seaside Heights and Staten Island, to Breezy Point and Long Beach. Yet I encourage everyone to stay strong; we will get through it all, as we always do. It will be slow, and it won’t be easy, but we will rebuild all that we lost. It’s better to light a candle than curse the darkness.

That being said, it is Halloween, and if anyone has any interest in coming over, curling up on my couch, and watching The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown with me, we’ve got bags of Reece’s peanut butter cups just begging to be eaten. Plus, I think we could all use something sweet and a few laughs and smiles after a rough few days.

Day 135 – Falling into Fall


As of Saturday, September 22nd, it’s officially fall, and as of Tuesday, September 25th, I’m already cold.

It’s really only been a matter of a few weeks that everything began to change. Labor Day weekend was still warm enough for me to lay on the beach, and yet, this morning, I found myself tearing apart my room looking for a heavy sweater and Uggs. Yeah, its 65 degrees. Yeah, that feels cold to me. Without question, I’ve switched from ordering my morning coffees “iced” to “hot,” and my non-air conditioned car that was miserable for the four years I spent in Miami is suddenly quite comfortable.

I’m noticing clothes hanging on the racks in stores have changed from bright, summery colors to cozy hues of browns and blues. I’ve developed an affinity for all things pumpkin, be it coffee, beer, or muffins. As I drive to the train every morning, the leaves are just a little redder, a little browner; a minor change for many, yet to me, it seems just a bit strange when I hear a leaf crunch under me and it’s only September.

All of a sudden the lightning bugs are gone. And the crickets are quieter at night. And around dinnertime, you don’t smell nearly as many barbecues grilling. I’ve already got a cold and have been drinking tea on the cooler evenings, but that’s okay.

Because I’m ready to fall into a pile of leaves for the first time in four years. I’m ready to go apple picking, and to visit a pumpkin patch upstate. I’m ready to go to a haunted house, or get bundled up and head to a football game. I’m ready for a scarf and a sweater and cool, autumn weather. I’m ready to see how beautiful New York City is, reds and yellows and oranges painting the branches of the trees, and visit the autumn street fairs. I’m ready to fall into Fall…face first.



Day 122 – We Will Never Forget


“Terrorist attacks can shake the foundations of our biggest buildings, but they cannot touch the foundation of America. These acts shatter steel, but they cannot dent the steel of American resolve. America was targeted for attack because we’re the brightest beacon for freedom and opportunity in the world. And no one will keep that light from shining.” – George W. Bush, 9/11/2001

Eleven years ago yesterday, I sat in front of my television, a little blonde 6th grader, holding my little brother’s hand, wondering what could’ve possibly gone wrong that two planes had flown into the two tallest buildings in NYC. I could feel my mom’s panic, sense her fear, as she rushed out the door to pick up my sister Kimberly from preschool. We’d been watching cartoons, home from school because of, no joke, a flea infestation in the building. I thought it was a day that would be spent relaxing in my PJs, having lunch with my mom and Kyle, and watching the TV shows that I only got to see when I stayed home sick.

Instead, it was a day full of terror. We could see the smoke from the corner of our block in Queens. My young eyes watched in disbelief TV clips of planes flying into buildings, people jumping from their 50th story office windows, and New Yorkers running through the streets, screaming, covered in dust and debris. We spent hours in church, all holding hands, praying. I watched adults – my parents, teachers, and friends – crying. That may have been when it knew it was all real. The planes, the buildings, the death, the fear. It wasn’t a bad dream; I wasn’t going to shake myself awake, and with it, shake away those images. They would be ingrained my mind forever.

I remember visiting Manhattan with my dad, prior to the attacks, and craning my neck as far back as it would go to see the top of the Twin Towers. They were so tall and so shiny, I remember having to squint my eyes. My dad told me that on the top floor, there was a restaurant where you could look out the windows during your meal and see the whole city. And at the very top, you could stand on the roof and look around and see for almost 5 miles in any direction. I never got to see it.

My mom told me that it was called a “terrorist attack;” someone had done it to hurt and to scare New York and America. She explained the pilots of the planes weren’t the “bad guys;” the bad guys had pushed the pilots out of the way, and they were the ones who flew them into the buildings. I couldn’t understand it, couldn’t comprehend how there could be someone so evil that would want to punish innocent people.

Eleven years later, I still can’t really understand it. I don’t think I ever will.

This is the first time in four years that I’ve been home in NYC for the anniversary. Last night, as I was driving home, I pulled into the gas station on the corner of my block and looked west, down Hillside Avenue. It was crisp and clear last night, the exact weather it was on that tragic day in 2001; so clear that I could see the Tribute in Light, the two “towers” of blue lights shining from lower Manhattan where those two majestic buildings once stood. And it brought tears to my eyes.

It made me think about where we stand now, as a country, in regards to the attacks on September 11th. None of us will ever forget what happened that day in NYC, Washington D.C., and just outside of Pittsburg, PA, but it’s important to remember more than just that tragic morning.

It’s important to remember what happened on September 12th, 2001. It’s important to remember what happened the next day, and the day after that, and weeks and months that followed. Remember how strangers came together, reaching out their hands and opening their doors to those in need. Remember how people donated so much of what they had to the victims and to their families, people they had never met before in their lives. Remember how people gladly hung American flags outside their homes. Remember the pride we felt in our politicians, in our police forces, in our fire departments, and in our emergency rescue workers. Remember how for once, we weren’t “New Yorkers” or “Floridians,” we weren’t Catholics or Jews, we weren’t democrats or republicans. We were Americans. United. That’s something else I’ll never forget, and for that memory, I’m grateful.

I’m proud to be a New Yorker, and proud to be an American, part of a country that has proved itself defiant, moving forward, yet always reflecting on the things that got us where we are today.

God Bless America.


Day Ninety-Two – *Star Struck*


Last week I started working two side jobs for the company. One of the jobs is at XVI, a rooftop lounge on the west side of Manhattan. I’ll be working at the door of the bar during it’s weekly Happy Hour, organizing reservations and keeping track of how many people attend. It’s a sweet gig – I get to look all profesh and more in-the-know than the rest of the people walking down 48th Street. Plus, the bouncers are funny as hell and XVI is a pretty cool spot to be associated with.

How cool, you may ask? Well, below is a picture of one of the attendees this past Thursday evening.


H to the izz-O, V to the izz-A, Jazzy, the Jigga Man, lyrical genius Shawn Carter himself, JAY Z.
No big deal.

Needless to say, I felt pretty important and definitely didn’t text all my friends immediately to tell them he had just walked into the lounge I was working at!!!! …Okay, so maybe I did. But hey, it’s my first night of work and a serious celebrity walks right up to the door I’m working at? That’s pretty cool.

I have to say, though, I was proud of myself for not turning into a starry-eyed celeb-obsessed fan, trying to snap pics as he walked by. I am by no means downplaying seeing Jay Z at all, but had it been Beyonce who walked past me, it may have been a different story. After all, she is perfect, God’s gift to the music industry and to mankind, described perfectly by my friend Brooke as “the $1,000 sundae at Seredipity.” She probably would have flown in past me with angel wings, with “Halo” playing majestically as she entered through the threshold of the venue. I would have most likely begged her to simply touch my arm, and upon arriving home, changed the name of my blog to “92 Days After I Graduated, Beyonce Touched Me” and never posted again. Because I would’ve died of happiness.

There are probably a list of about five celebrities that I would go “fan crazy” for. Like sweaty, nervous, speechless, giggling, too-awkward-to-communicate-like-a-human crazy. You all already know number one…


Is she even real?


Oh, Britney. The Britney pictured above was an idol to teenage Kristen like no other. One of the only times in my life I was happy to have worn a uniform to school every day, the Hit Me Baby One More Time video inspired me to never underestimate the power of a school-girl outfit. For me, Brit will never go out of style. It doesn’t matter that she once went crazy and shaved her head! Or that she spontaneously got married once in Vegas! Isn’t that what every girl wants to do anyway? Ugh, Brit, you’re a vision, and one of the reasons I will never dye my hair.


If you know me at all, you know that the Harry Potter series has always been a huge part of my life. In fact, upon finishing the last of the 7 books, I actually cried into the pages because I acknowledged that my childhood was coming to an end as Harry’s years at Hogwarts concluded. I will watch any of the movies, at any time of the day, even if I watched it the day before.Hell, I’ll watch it two times in a row and still enjoy it just as much. My obsession hit a peak when I visited Universal Studios with my family last summer and saw Hogwarts for the first time. I was actually speechless. My mom says I had the same expression on my face when I saw Mickey Mouse for the first time as a 3-year-old as when I first stepped into on the castle. Like all my childhood dreams were coming to life, right before my eyes. And it’s for this reason that if I were to ever come into contact with any of the actors from the movies, I’d probably just fall to the ground. To me, they’re not Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson, and Rupert Grint. They’re Harry, Ron, and Hermoine. Forever.


Captain America. I chose an animated version of this super hero because I’m wildly attracted to pretty much anyone in a Captain America costume. Like on the vacation to Universal Studios I previously mentioned, I actually couldn’t stop giggling while I took a picture with the guy dressed like Captain America. That being said, I’m sure my reaction to Chris Evans in the suit would entirely stop my heart. Guess who I’ll be looking for this Halloween? Boys…you’ve been warned.


QUAID. Dennis Quaid. When I was young, you were the super-cool dad that worked on the vineyard in California, with a golden retriever, who let me ride horses and switch places with the identical twin sister I met at summer camp and was still in love with my British mom. Today, you’re still the dad from Parent Trap, but now, you’re a hot dad. And who doesn’t love hot dads? I can’t really explain the obsession with Dennis Quaid, but it exists. And I’m pretty sure if I saw him in person, I’d hug the crap out of him, and I wouldn’t be able to let go.

So there’s my Star Struck list. Thank you in advance for not judging me.

And thank you, cool new job, for getting me closer to meeting the angel that is Beyonce Knowles.

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-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.

Day Forty – Heeeeaatwaaave!!


It’s so damn hot. 


90 degrees and it’s not even noon yet. Dear God. 

New York City’s heatwave has people flocking to the beach, swimming in their pools, and sipping frozen drinks. It also has subway platforms smelling like homeless shelters and it’s ruining the hair of women all across the five boroughs. Summertime and the livin’s easy. 

Anyway, as of yesterday, it’s “officially” summer now; the summer solstice was yesterday, June 20th. While for most of us, the summer solstice is only important because it marks the longest day of sunlight of the year, for others around the world, this marks a day of celebration. I was doing a little browsing of the world wide web this morning because I was a little early for work and read a bit about the history of the summer solstice and why, for some cultures, it is a celebrated day. 

The word “solstice” is taken from a Latin word meaning “Sun stands still,” and this day, when the sun is highest in the sky, was a day of significance in many ancient cultures. Edifices such as Stonehenge were built, it seems, in accordance with the movement of the sun; at the solstice, the sun aligns exactly with one of the outer stones at Stonehenge. The English gather inside Stonehenge on the solstice, drink around bonfires, and dance all night long. In other cultures, this was a day that acknowledged the sun’s role in agriculture, and it’s light and warmth are celebrated. 

And celebrating the Sun’s warmth, we are. Everyone in Penn Station this morning was in flip flops, carrying lounge chairs, beach bags, and coolers, headed out East for the day to relax at the beach. I’m kind of jealous, but can’t really complain — I did spend four years in a magical make-believe land where every day was like today. Instead, I’ll enjoy the air conditioning in my office. And later tonight, I’ll be attending a company happy hour at a rooftop lounge with the other interns and our supervisors. Did I mention I love this internship? Once again, I should probably stop complaining. 🙂

But I have bad news. Now that the summer solstice, the longest day of the year has ended, there’s only one thing I see in our future….


So don’t take this hot, summer day for granted, little doves.