OH GOD YOU GUYS you have no idea the kinds of misery that has expired between myself and my computer in the past week. First, the backlight decided that it wanted to quit on me. Then the sound fizzled out just as soon as I started getting used to hooking up my computer to a projector. Then after a week in repair, my video card became corrupted or something and then it decided to shut down every two minutes.
But after I let it sit in the corner and think about what it had done for two days, it decided that it was done playing games and is now back to its normal self. So, back to blogging, and more importantly, back to how my spring break ended more than a week ago. Oh, boy.
Wednesday was spent pretending to be a Gossip Girl and traipsing through the Upper East Side. I wish I were kidding.
But I knew that I wanted to pack a lunch and a blanket to picnic in Central Park, so I brought this AMAZING nylon rucksack from H&M along with me. It's seriously bottomless, super sturdy, and the snaps in the back allow you to readjust everything to convert it from a shoulder bag to a backpack, then to a shopper tote.
But it turned out to be way way too cold and windy for a picnic (and I kept panicking because Central Park is a freakin' Minotaur labrynth and I wasn't smart enough to remember to pack twine). But the area was basically impressive, and sterile, and really concrete-y, and I wish it hasn't been an entire week after I went so I could remember more about it. BAH
The best parts about the Museums were definitely the stupid pretentious pieces of shit (actually, literally). For example, Exhibit A:
Or Exhibit B:
But in the basement of the Met was the blog.mode fashion exhibit which was INCREDIBLE. Hussein Chalayan, Yves Saint Laurent, Alaïa, Rodarte, Galliano, al;kdfja, andslfj, djkfdjfsd--I stayed in the exhibit until the museum closed. Then, it was off to Chinatown for some eats and then a night spent watching Weeds to rest before my last day in NY and two interviews before I left.
I'm dumb and forgot to take pictures of my outfit the last night, but I wore a vintage floral tiered Anna Sui miniskirt over a grey heathered tank from Target, the same Limited blazer, the tights, grey socks (that were supposed to be taken off before my interviews because NY is freeeeezing but I forgot dumbdumbdumb) and those shoes from hell again.
But I woke up early to finish packing. Because of my bad scheduling, I had planned my last interview a few hours before my flight, and the night before, I had received a last minute email from another magazine asking me to stop by. So unfortunately, I had no other choice but to lug my suitcase, my purse, and another carryon with me to the Conde Nast building in Times Square.
OMGG you have no idea how incredible it felt to stand in the lobby at Conde Nast. I recognized a handful of editors scurrying in and out of the elevators and nearly passed out when I was going through security with an official nametag. I stepped into the elevators and was in there by myself when it stopped and a short blonde lady in a Chanel jacket stepped in.
I kid you not.
I shared an elevator with Anna Wintour.
ack ack ack ack kkkkkkkkadsfjakdljf [this was basically what I was fighting to keep from spitting out]. It took every ounce of self restraint not to jump on the poor woman and/or vomit when she half-smiled at me. Yes, she was beautiful and intimidating and very very short. And no she wasn't wearing sunglasses.
By the time I got to the floor I was supposed to be on, I could much less remember my own name than the editor's of whom I was supposed to meet with. The interview went wonderfully and I can't tell you how embarrassed that 1)Anna Wintour saw me wearing socks and sandals, 2)Anna Wintour saw me with my roommate Will's army green beat-up suitcase 3)I think I may have let one "ack" slip out in the elevator (of which Anna Wintour probably heard).
But right after this ended, it was off to the UES again for my last interview at a much lower key (no ack attacks here) and much less stressful and really wonderful and brilliant and I can't stop using gushy adjectives because ladies and gents, my whole experience with NY was really just that gushy and surreal and wonderful and brilliant.
Then it was back to JFK, then back to San Francisco, then back to midterms and papers and the doldrums of springtime academia when I finally got replies regarding my interviews.
And if you'll let me readers, I'll post in the comments section of this entry the place(s) I'll be working this summer.