Flying Home… Like a G6
ILLEGAL PICTURE TAKING. Just kidding. I put my phone to flight-mode so it was all good.
Not really, friends. My plane was surprisingly tiny and filled with old people.
Very un-G6 like, actually.
Any who, I’m back in Florida and the seventy degree temperature difference was a real shocker, that’s for sure. I was wearing three pairs of socks, leggings under pants, three shirts, a hoodie, my plaid trench coat, gloves, my babushka scarf, a headband, and a hat over that. Remember, it was 0 degrees with windchill this morning in the city.
“What is this post even about, Chelsea?”
Nothing really. I have nothing else to say. My trip is over. I learned a lot, I had an amazing experience, and although I was sad to leave the Northland (Let me tell you, landing in Florida in the winter is depressing. Everything looks dead. And no snow.), my heart beckons me back to New College.
Thanks for reading, I guess? I hope it was at least worth the couple of minutes it takes to read these blog posts. And who knows? Maybe I’ll keep blogging intermittently. Or travel soon enough to make this a travel blog.
But I doubt that.
Until next time, lovelies.
Milk and White Chocolate Take the Cit-ay
Looking up the stairwell in the Chelsea Hotel
Friends, so much has happened in the last day and a half, I don’t know where to begin. Guess I’ll just start from the top. I’ll try not to go into too much detail seeing as that will make this post as long as thesis paper and no one wants to read that. Not even me.
- Last day of work came and went. Super sad because everyone there was so nice and lovely to work with and the experience was amazing and all that jazz. But I know I made some lovely new friends so
ifwhen I return to the city, I’ll have some base contacts. - My aunt is here! She found me at work and we went to my favorite lasagna restaurant/bar to prove that it is really as amazing as I made it sound. Also, it was Brian, my favorite bartender in all of NYC’s night to work so it certainly wouldn’t have been okay if I didn’t say goodbye. And this friendship is totally legit because we’re now friends on Facebook. WHAT UP.
- My aunt and I had to vacate a hostel. “What are you talking about, Chelsea?” Yeah, so, apparently NYC hotels think hostels are too much competition so they lobby to have the fire departments post “violations” in the hostels to shut them down. So at 4:30 A.M. yesterday morning, they come knocking on our door to tell us we have to leave by 8 A.M. Sleepy and with a full refund, my aunt and I checked into the Hotel Chelsea around 8:30, not even realizing how totally BOSS this place is. The history, the architecture, the art: my quality of life just went up about 100 points. It really is beautiful. And of course, the fact that we’re in Chelsea again has kind of made my life. “You are so self-absorbed.” No, but the whole same name thing is pretty hilarious as well.
- Aunt Cortney and I traversed all around Central Park yesterday, were interviewed for a documentary about foreign affairs in the middle East, rode in a horse drawn carriage, and had tea at a French macaroon bakery. Yeah, it was cold, but totally worth it.
*The above video was shot at the same hotel I’m staying at… COOL.*
And that brings me to the lovely point in my day when I met up with CAROL. Aka, Milk Chocolate.
“Who’s Carol?”
Carol is not only one of the coolest people I know, but we met at CCY, she has the most amazing personality and fun-loving traits, the biggest and most badass fro I’ve ever seen, and she goes to Yale. What have you don’t with your life lately?
Oh, and she’s one of the people who originally called me White Chocolate at CCY. Holllaaaaa.
Anywho, she took the train into the city, we met in the giant Forever 21 and then went to a Thai restaurant and had dinner. Our conversation was so constant and so fast, it took us forever to order and eat because we didn’t even pick up the menu!
What’s so funny to me, before I continue, is that it’s been 3 years (almost) since I’ve seen the majority of my friends from CCY. The counselors there told us we would forget about each other after a year or so. But I saw my roommate at the Chicago airport, just saw Carol last night, and make sure to try and keep in contact with the girls in my hall. There’s just no excuse to fall apart when we have Facebook.
So after pad thai, we were super touristy and went into all the different Times Square stores, and then went to a friends birthday party at an Irish pub for a little bit, until eventually we made our way back to Grand Central to say our goodbyes.
The one thing about goodbyes is that they aren’t always heart-breakingly sad. Even though not seeing Carol for god knows how long is depressing, I know that I will see her again. And because it’s so easy to have a great time with her, it would be blasphemy to not try and meet up in the future.
So that’s been my last couple of days. Today is shopping and finishing up my whirlwind tour of the greatest city on Earth.
I suppose the last thing is, does anyone have any suggestions for places to go that you don’t think I’ve been to yet?
“Last Day of School, Last Day of School!”
Not really, friends, but it is the last day of work for both Elena and I which means the last day of work for our ISP has finally arrived!
“What have you even been doing lately?”
Work has actually been fun so I can’t complain about that. Now that I’m good friends with both the other interns and employees who work there, it seems like such a shame to be leaving right now.
I finally have even started to make friends with the people at the lasagna/bar that I frequented in Chelsea (I garnered myself an invite to a birthday party tomorrow night) so when they asked me, “Are you sad to be leaving?” I couldn’t just say “No!” and laugh like I thought I would.
Because guys, even though I miss New College desperately, and my friends more than life itself, the truth is, I was finally just starting to make connections here.
“Did you finally talk with people at your hostel?”
Yeah, no. And that’s my fault because I’ve only been here for an hour for breakfast in the morning, and before bed. I’m honestly at work or out at dinner all the rest of the time. So (unsurprisingly, I suppose) my local hangout has not been with the 20-something international travelers of the hostel, but the 30-something-mostly-gay-men of Chelsea.
Oh well.
I mean, eventually I probably would have hung out with people from work, but the thing is, a couple of them are moms, a couple of them are in school, and others don’t live on the island. One thing they do all have in common: They are definitely older than me. As in, one of my co-workers didn’t believe it when I said I had only recently turned 19.
(But really, not that it matters here. I’ve been able to sit at every bar I’ve wanted to so far and been offered many an alcoholic beverage that I did NOT take, if mainly because it would have cost me $10)
I did meet Elena’s family last night at dinner but it didn’t make me miss my family per se, but it did make me wish I had cousins my own age. The only cousins I have are like, 13, and the other ones are 26 and 29.
They also live on opposite sides of the country from me.
“What is this post even about, Chelsea?”
I have no clue.
Want me to make it even more random? I found a new food I’m allergic to: avocados.
And the list grows ever longer.
Not random enough? Anyone willing to buy my soul so I can buy this camera?
Before the Lobotomy
Friends, there are some days that are more soul-crushing than others. Not that anything specifically happened, just that the dreary humdrum of monotony got to me a lot faster and harder than previous days.
By the way, the title is in reference to a Green Day song. Yes, I’m still listening to 21st Century Breakdown on repeat since seeing American Idiot on Broadway.
“Care to share?”
Not really. I think I’m going to Hot List random thoughts I had instead.
THE HOT LIST: STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS
1) I think it would be really difficult to jump in front of a subway, if not only because the people who make the announcements have the windows open and are looking right at you. What an awkward audience.
2) The poles in subways look like stripper poles. Poor design on someone’s part.
3) What’s the point in putting panels for glass on an overpass to block out rain if you don’t put in the glass?
4) Isn’t it illegal to work a ten hour day without an official lunch break or break period?
5) How often do normal people think they’re sick?
6) Is it possible to get sick, despite having digested an entire box of Emergen-C in the past two and a half weeks?
7) Instead of having an alternative reality, can I mesh two parallel universes?
8 ) Despite my dislike of people, claustrophobic situations, and germs, flying and airports are on the top of the list of my favorite things.
Rinse and Repeat
“So what does this week hold for you, Chelsea?”
Oh! So you want to know what my schedule was yesterday?
1) Wake up a million times during the night because the bathroom door across from my room sounds like Moaning Myrtle. *This has since been mostly remedied by ear plugs.
2) Breakfast. *No bagels for me to steal and make a lunch out of. Curses.
3) Work. All Day.
4) Commute home. *Now it’s an hour long. Which I actually like because there’s something very soothing about the motion and sounds of a subway after a long day at work.
5) Food.
6) Sleep.
“Sounds exciting?”
And this is my schedule until Friday evening.
Awwwwww yeeeeaaaaahhhhh.
Slave Labor
“What the heck, Chelsea? Why wasn’t there a post yesterday?”
Well, geez, I didn’t realize I was needing to meet a deadline.
Friends, the reason why I didn’t write yesterday is because I was at work from 10 in the morning until 12:04 after midnight.
“Isn’t that illegal?”
Maybe if you are being held against your will.
“That’s kidnapping.”
Okay… my point is that I chose to go in that early and stay that late.
Why you may ask?
Because despite being a lowly intern and only having one more week of working there, I, Chelsea Elizabeth Corarito, got to go out into the field and accompany a producer and two shooters (camera(wo)men) to a shoot (a scene). Like a legit P.A. (production assistant) or something.
And it was the most terrifyingly beautiful thing ever.
“Terrifying meaning…”
Well, I did basically a full day of work. Then Nga, the tech guru of the office, told me how to dump footage (download the memory card to the laptop) and connect a producer to a shooter (set up a monitor to the camera so the producer can see what is being shot), which included a lot of steps that I wasn’t familiar with, but certainly not impossible.
I didn’t end up using any of that information.
“So what was scary?”
Well, the shoot took place at this barbecue restaurant. In Harlem.
“Oh.”
Yeah. But it was really far south so when we got there, I didn’t even know it was Harlem.
Side note: We took the West Side Highway up there and I got to see the most gorgeous shot of the Manhattan skyline at dusk into twilight into night. I could have stayed in that moment for forever.
Anywho, I won’t get into the details of the shoot because that would be boring and I can’t talk about the show we were filming for but we were there from about 6:30 until 11:00ish, got back to the office, talked to the executive producer, and then went home.
“Long day?”
Long day.
But it’s not like I haven’t done it before. I’ve been a P.A. on two other projects in the past and this wasn’t anything beyond that in terms of skills or difficulty. Sure, the producer said a lot of the situations that came up made the shoot more difficult but we still got what we needed and left.
“How exciting!”
Yep. I feel pretty awesome right now.
“So what’s on today’s agenda?”
Today I have to move to the next hostel because I’ve been in this one for the max of 14 days.
So that’s first. Then Jon is going to meet up with me and we’re going to check out the area around the hostel, he’s going to show me some cool places, and I might meet up with Elena for dinner. Who knows?
The day is young, I’m still conscious (barely), and I’ve got stuff to do. Have a wonderful day, wherever you are!
Impressionism
Friends, today has been kind of a weird day, filled with ups and downs.
For the sake of brevity, I’m not even going to go into detail about work. Good things happened but I’ll just talk about them tomorrow, though probably Saturday when I have the time.
“Well, all you have time to do is work so what the heck are you going to talk about?”
Good question, inner monologue. And the answer is one that I don’t normally throw out without good reason:
My feelings.
“Cue orchestra hit.”
Exactly.
Well, when I went to get dinner with Louis/John at the Cuban Cafe next to my hostel (I don’t even want to talk about the duration and cost of that meal) we had many a philosophical argument (big surprise there), but one that particularly intrigued me.
Louis was describing these moments of metaphysical realization, or spiritual discovery, which I told him were similar to out-of-body experiences. And he was all, “Yeah, that’s it!”
My response: I don’t get those.
Instead, I have these moments every few days, either in response to being deeply involved in something or to someone calling my name, where I don’t recognize my own name and completely forget my identity altogether.
It’s basically five seconds of complete amnesia.
It’s like my mind steps outside of my body, looks at it reacting to hearing it’s name called and wonders “Why?”
“That’s messed up.”
Yeah, I’m pretty sure most people don’t have these kinds of moments. It’s probably a sign that I have a rapidly growing malignant brain tumor. Oh well. There are worse ways to die.
“What does this have to do with your feelings?”
Well, remembering that I have these moments in comparison to the moments that I have consistently while I”m at work where I think about New College and all my friends there. I don’t know.
Have you ever missed a person so badly that it actually physically hurts?
It’s moments like that which make me wish I had identity crises more frequently.
Here I’d like to interject a little something I wrote to a friend when he asked me how I like New York:
I had to say goodbye to Louis tonight too. I’ve always had this feeling of having lived a million lives already, simply from moving as many times as I did when I was little, but I’ll be having a conversation with Louis, texting my friends in Massachusetts, waiting for a call from someone at New College, and knowing my dad is expecting some recognition that I got back to my hostel. That’s at least five different “me’s” that need to exist simultaneously and it’s honestly, the most conflicted feeling in the world.
Think of it this way: When you’re at school, you act differently than you do when you’re home. Easy enough. And isn’t it weird when you have to call home and “tell” your parents what you do at school (honesty here being a particularly large line)? You don’t want to mix the two worlds. And they don’t want to either. It’s like vinegar and oil.
Now imagine that times two, and being in a place you don’t know very well.
Yeah, welcome to my life.
“It’s a wonder you haven’t had a nervous breakdown yet.”
Tell me about it.
P.S. Help my friend Casey out with his new book!
Disappointment Reigns
Friends, today was utter failure.
“How so?”
Well first off, the snow-pocalypse didn’t happen. I just slipped several times on my to the subway and then had to tell myself that no one saw because honestly, I know I’m the clutziest person alive. I just don’t want the entire city of New York to know it. Because even though I wish someone would find it endearing, I know it’s not.
“So optimistic.”
So then work was work, lovely, dandy. Went to work, left work, and then later that night went with Elena to Rockefeller Center to see Jimmy Fallon live because she got tickets!
“How is that disappointing!”
Well, it turns out they overbooked so they weren’t sure all of us were going to get in. Queue waiting in line again. Mind you, there were only ten people in front of us.
Wait forty minutes.
We move forward towards security.
“So we can only guarentee ten spots. So I think that’s everyone but the two girls in the back.”
REALLY, NBC. REALLY?
They gave us VIP tickets for a later date for our trouble but Elena and I work all day and are leaving soon. We can’t just fly up here on a whim. Especially if we go to Hollywood on an internship this summer.
I literally almost fell to my knees and just screamed because we were that close to getting in. Terrible words hung on my lips and it took all my self-control to not make a scene.
So we got cupcakes at Magnolia, Elena headed back home, and I went to my favorite gay-lasagna-bar restaurant and got called “Sarasota” all evening. Also, the bartender introduced the entire bar to his fiancé, a lovely woman who looked like a Norwegian model. They are apparently getting married so half the year, she can work here, and the other half he can work wherever she lives.
Bravo, good sir. I applaud your efforts to weasel your way through the government system. Also, he was super fierce.
Anywho, I’m going to read and then be off to bed.
By the way, this post marks the halfway point of my ISP. It’s all downhill from here!
A Myriad, No, Cornocopia
Friends, I started a list this morning about topics I want to discuss in this blog, because I kept thinking, ‘Hey, I just don’t want to talk about my day like this blog is some sissy journal or something.’ Who would want to read it? The same people who snuck into their kid sibling’s room to read their diairies? That’s just whack.
So as soon as I got on the subway, I realized the day was not going to be like any other. First, half the lights on the subway were out. How does that happen? And no one was noticing? Do people just not care? Does it happen often? I was kind of freaking out because who knew what else could go wrong.
Then I thought back to a topic that came up when I was hanging with John and Jon:
“I don’t get it. If I was gay, I’d be getting so many more chicks.”
Why, yes, John, that may be correct.
“Explain this phenomenon, Chelsea.”
Well, far be it from me to speak for the entire female population as a whole, but for some of us born with double-X chromosomes, we desire that which we cannot have.
“Well, a gay guy should be pretty off limits, don’t you think?”
That I do. But that’s just the subconscious level. If we’re talking stereotypical flamboyant-as-hell gay guy, then your immediate response as a female is probably not to be sexually attracted to that person. That’s just science. But, once a friendship develops and you realize this person is your best friend and you’re telling him all your secrets and you’re having slumber parties and gosh, he’s really sensitive and I can take him shopping, it’s the emotional ties that make you want to well, make out with them.
“That sounds like a drastic sweeping generalization.”
It is. That’s only one way it could happen. I’m not going to come out and say, “Straight girls like gay guys because [BLANK].” That would be incredibly irresponsible of me and (politically) incorrect of me. And I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.
“You could always talk about your feelings personally.”
Yeah, well, I’m not going to. Because even though this blog is an expression on my thoughts directly, there are certain thought processes I would like to keep private, thank you very much.
So after that tangent in my head, I was mulling over why the median age of the people getting breakfast at my hostel somehow jumped from hot, 25 year old Australians to 75 year old Dutch guys.
What the heck, hostel?
Sure, it was early, 8 o’clock, but that’s like, 6 PM in Australia. You should be up by now. Ridiculous.
“How’s that going by the way? The hostel situation?”
It’s lovely, thank you for asking. Now that I have a roommate that speaks to me, my quality of life has skyrocketed through the roof. Also, I’ve had about three people briefly talk to me now, one guy who was a comedian and had some friends who went to New College (small world). There’s also a super cute Italian guy sitting next to me on one of the desktop computer that asked me for five singles to trade for his five dollar bill.
“Wow… really titillating conversation right there.”
Yes, well, I prefer living large in my fake, imaginary world than being proactive in reality. Judge me as you will.
There were two other subjects I wanted to discuss briefly:
1) The impending snow-pocalypse
and
2) the amazing atmosphere where I work.
In regards to the first one, I didn’t realize places of actual work freak out about snow like small school children. Like really? You’re all coming in to work tomorrow either way? I didn’t even know it was supposed to snow right now until the “talk about the watercooler” was about the fifteen feet of white stuff that we should have by tomorrow morning. Honestly, I love snow as much as the next person and I’m practically giddy with anticipation. But I know I’m going into work tomorrow so yeah…
The second topic is that I love working in an office predominately inhabited by women because it is really polite, cut-throat, efficient, hot (temperature-wise), fake, and genuine. It’s amazing. There are so many interactions and bonds between these women that I’m astounded any of them give me the time of day. Let’s be honest- I’m a 19 year old white girl from Florida that looks like she’s probably been given everything she ever wanted in life. Which isn’t true and I’m willing to prove them wrong. But these ladies are power players. They are super nice, super informative, and at times, are willing to “cut-a-bitch” and do what they go to do. And for that, I applaud them.
“So what’s with the small essay today?”
I watched a comedy show so I have a lot on my mind.
And with that I say, goodnight and thanks to everyone for coming out!
Nothing Much
“So your Saturday sounded like an adventure? What did you do Sunday?”
Well, friends- basically nothing. John and Jon got into the city so I hung out with them all afternoon, got this bitchin’ one dollar for four dumplings for dinner, and then I left around 7 and went to bed at 9.
“Well, that sounds… fun.”
Yeah. Then work yesterday was the same ol’, same ol’, and I had planned on going home and crashing again but then I received the following text from Jon:
“We need a woman.”
John/Louis, looking out over the view from Jon's dorm room. I love have balconies in my dorm and all but DAMN, this view was gorgeous.
Which is just something I’m not used to hearing at New College (for a myriad of reasons), so after shopping for a bit, groceries that is, I headed back down to the Lower East Side to hang out for a couple of hours. We got more dumplings (Seriously, they are the best things I’ve ever had in my life… AND ONLY ONE DOLLAR?!?!) and around 10:15, I navigated the subway back.
Easy peasy.
“What about today?”
Not sure what I’m going to do after work today. I really need to hop on making sure I get everyone that I need to souvenirs (Janardana and Anne-Sophie are taken care of but that still leaves a few more people) so maybe I’ll head up to Times Square and go into one of those foofy tourist shops.
Here’s my philosophy on gift-giving though: You shouldn’t give someone something just for the hell of it. When it comes to Christmas, for example, it takes me forever to pick out the right gifts, because that’s exactly what they have to be- the right gift.
“But souvenirs are easy. Just find a shirt that says, “I love NY”.”
Oh yeah, because no one has ever gotten one of those before.
With the amount of time I spend thinking about my friends, I know what I would want to give them, but then the second objection is money. I’m not saying I like to give expensive gifts. Because money shouldn’t really matter either. I just happen to know that what people would really want costs a bit more than a few bucks.
Don’t worry. I’ll figure something out. I already know what to get Tessa, muhahaha…
