For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to work at a magazine in New York City. I obviously honed in some psychic powers when I was half a dozen years young, because I somehow managed to find myself brushing shoulders with some seriously talented peeps. Day #1 on the j-o-b: met the editors, my creative director and 40 other people who's names I'll never remember. My desk is intermixed with the IPad designers, a bunch of laid back dudes whom I already get along swimmingly with. There is one photo intern, four editorial interns and I am the lone art intern, though after a chat today, I may have the opportunity to jump into editorial as well... best of both. Fantastic for me! More attention+more work+more critiques=more success. Unfortunately I'm forced to look at stuff like this all day...
Funniest part of my day was riding down the elevator with a fabulous man who screamed, "Can you BA-LIEVE Weiner Man?!?!" "Ehhh, to which weiner man are you refering?" "Only the New York Congressman, ha-llo!" I definitely need to brush up on my current events, and pretend to be deeply saddened or ridiculously overjoyed depending on whether or not Snookie gets her drivers license back...
Stopped for groceries at Fairways on 75th and Broadway and walked up to 116th to stretch the legs... best people watching ever... I heard a lot of Yiddish, dodged a midget on a bicycle wearing a cowboy hat hollering yee-haw and followed two men with matching pastel polos, hand in hand strolling leisurely and discussing in depth, the free range chicken salad they shared for lunch... "It must have been tarragon! I can't imagine what else it may have been? And those grapes, lord those grapes were di-vine! ...Should we share a cupcake? Yes, let's go get a cupcake, cupcake."
Who doesn't like cupcakes? :)
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