Sparkling graduation with undertones of A.D.D.

As I passed the 300+ pound woman wearing the bright blue I heart New York shirt, I was assured I was on the right plane back to Texas. After I woke up on the plane with a cute dab of drool sparkling my face I decided maybe it’s time I stop falling asleep in public, and begin either an intensive coffee regime or see a doctor about “my attention deficit disorder” for Adderall. I’m pretty sure everyone has that, and my case can surely be argued with a focus on my driving habits and two totaled cars. It’s a good thing I’ll be one of those lulled into the public transportation circuit of NYC. For my own safety and the people (or objects) who I still insist were in my way.

Falling asleep in public only happened once after that, but it was during my graduation ceremony. With only two short speeches to break up the 750 jumbo-tron logs of graduates’ smiling and mouthing “I love you mom and dad” (or in my case, losing all composure and mouthing an excitedly frantic “YAY!”), what else is there to do?

Sleeping on the sly.

This semester in New York flew by. These past four years flew by. I’m a graduate- a cum laude one at that (to my surprise) which I realized by an asterisk in the graduation program. Apparently I did well on these final finals. Is adulthood really the hangover after the college party? I’ll fill my adult life with Gatorade, ice packs, and long runs to sweat out the toxins.

The last week before leaving for graduation at Baylor was an exhausting blur. Memorable points that break away from the haze include big girl job related activities, and Baylor’s NYC Karaoke party after my last final which was a success for many and a bomb for some, the latter involving my quad of gals screaming “voulez-vous coucher avec moi.” I insisted that Christina Aguilera was not in our vocal range, but others became ambitious for Lady Marmalade’s rhythms. After the performance, my girl group all agreed Spice Girls would have been more of a hit. My roommate Cait was excited to do the song she knows, Jesus Walks by Kanye, and her out of character “hellll yea” won over the audience in a fit of laughter. Another quieter guy in our program surprised everyone with his System of a Down burst which proves everyone has that alter ego, and one guy even began freestyle rapping and was totally stoked to break out of Microsoft Word to reveal his inner rap star.

It was all in all a grand time and full of embarrassing memories.

That week I also attended a Sunset Social with my Parasol Marketing boss, Andrea. She drove me up to Westchester to Oasis Day Spa, and upon walking in I was immediately sent to the back for my spa treatment: my first spray tan. The spa gal knocked on the door, and after an awkward “Am I supposed to be naked?” convo, she got to work with her spray gun inches from my bare flesh. As I stood spread eagle desperately trying not to make eye contact I began to silently thank myself for going on a run that day. Who knew my first work event would involve getting naked for a stranger? I’ll be upping my mileage before the next work event--

Andrea and I were attending this rooftop spa event because later this summer Parasol is hosting the next sunset social, and one of our clients is catering. I was able to meet the client, who loves everything Texas, and tried to bring out my inner cowgirl to make a good impression. Thinking a faux southern accent would be a smidge over board, I stuck to describing my love of boots and red meat, and even confessed to knowing line dancing from when they made the waitresses do that at Texas Roadhouse. (Almost as degrading as singing for birthdays, little did I know it would come in handy. Yee-haw.)

Suzanne said she has big plans for me to be a Suzy Sirlion gal and go into radio shows wearing cowgirl boots, hat, and even daisy dukes (per her request). I’m hoping I rope myself a cowboy out of it. A rich Manhattan one. Who believes in opening doors like a good ole southern boy, but is cut-throat like a New Yorker in a business deal. Can I get a yee-haw?

I DID buy blinged boots while home in Colorado for the few days I had before making the move to New York. Plan in motion.

This past weekend's graduation was a time for family photo shoots (my dad finally "found his calling" in photography) and bedazzled hats. I was not walking across the Ferrel Center's stage in the Harry Potter deal (as much as I am a fan), and so when my sister flew into town we decided Hobby Lobby could save us with pink spray glitter and gemstones. It was a sparkling success, but when I fell asleep on the stranger's shoulder next to me, my cursive, gemmed "J" was pretty set on grabbing people's attention. There's pictures.

Now I’m back in the city. Sleeping on a couch. Sorting through the hundreds of craigslist ads desperately trying to find an apartment before my June 1 deadline of temporary housing goes into effect. Graduation seems like a distant memory already and brutality comes in the form of $1000 monthly rent bills in all  of these ads I scour—and THAT’s cheap.

I will be accepting all donations in the form of cash, credit cards, and grocery gift certificates. Come one, come all.

New Job, New Do

I should just start a hair blog. Of what NOT to do. Becuase it's amazing how many times past mistakes are removed from memory at the sheer excitement that comes with covering up dark roots to fake a natural blonde again.
This time, after an experimentation series of unsuccessful temporary root touch-ups which can be washed out (aka zero perma-damage), I knew I had to take desperate measures to hide the brunette tell-alls. After all, I was going to be on TELEVISION the following day. Blondes pop, brunettes bomb (for bigoted, dye-hard Jessica). And so blonde box-dye "it comes with a magical root-tool!" it was. Friendly and easy to use. Fab.
It wasn't.
So when my roommate, Caitlin, saw me rubbing blonde hair dye all over my scalp with my bare hands and the friendly tool in the trash can, we both knew I was in for a multi-colored orange-yellow TREAAAT!

For Alison Brod, miss thang intern had been preparing to be a dress model for a style segment on New York Live. I even stopped binge eating past midnight for an entire week AND bought a tanning package (helloooo graduation--either kill two birds with one stone, or massacre two photo-ops with skin brighter than the flash--tough call.) So when I washed out the scalp scorching dye and was left with a vibrant sunset, I began making the frantic calls to hairstylists who didn't find their calling in a box.
Rationalizing that an in-person plea of my failure would be more successful, I found a salon that found my situation pathetic enough to squeeze in before they closed, I'd just have to kill 2 hours beforehand. Easy enough. I was walking in the rain and passed by a homeless couple looking very wet. Suddenly, the sermon from the church I visited that morning struck me in the form of a large raindrop and I double-backed.
The sermon at Trinity Grace church on the Upper East Side was about food. Basically I found, that if you're reading the Bible and you find yourself NOT hungry, you're not reading it right. Jesus built relationships over the dinner table. He set an example eating with sinners and taxpayers. He fed thousands with a few fish and meager loaves of bread. Jesus is a foodie. HALLELUJAH!
"Hey I haven't had dinner yet and this rain sucks, will you grab a bite to eat with me?"
And that's how I met Jimmy and his pink suitcase-toting wife. We had McDonald's and besides my post-dinner self-hatred of eating lard it was rather enjoyable. They had been living on the street for about a year and a half after Jimmy lost his construction job. While they did have kids in college, they did not feel it was their duty as parents to inform them of their homeless state. Shout out to Mom and Dad-you always have a couch with me... or if it was now, a bunk bed, which has proved pretty insufficient in its comfort value this spring. I told Jimmy and his wife that if they're looking for a yummy morning bagel and coffee the church down the street has them for free. And they have sermons about food, which is awesome.

And they have pastors that are Australian which brings me to the following conclusion of holding off on my visionary escapade to live in Australia for the time being. Because.
I HAVE A JOB!! Woooo
I will be an account coordinator with Parasol Marketing, a luxury public relations and marketing agency that has clients such as Hotel Arts Barcelona, Fairmont Miramar Hotel & Bungalows, Phulay Bay Ritz Carlton and others. Luxury travel is Parasol's focus, however they also have other clients such as FIG restaurant and very new client Suzy Sirlion.

Everything happened so fast. Jennifer, a friend of my aunt's, introduced me to Parasol's Lorianne earlier that week. I had the job interview shortly after, came back later to meet the boss that day of the interview, emailed references and an assigned project to the office later that day and recieved an official document and email offer later that night. WOAH whirlwind.
I accepted over the weekend, and went into the office the f ollowing Monday to train with Eva, the gal whose position I will be taking over. I set up various accounts and email subscriptions I'll need and ordered an identification card to enter the building. I went through daily tasks and had too much coffee already (there's a coffee maker down the hall-my impulsive excessiveness stems from excitement). I met with Andrea, Lorianne, and Eva for a lunch meeting and discussed clients and the agenda for the week. It was info-overload, but Eva graciously set up a transition document for me to make my first few weeks a lot easier.
I'm going back to the office after finals this week to attend a Sunset Social at a spa on Friday. Becuase Parasol is hosting an event at this spa later in the summer, we are going to check out the location and I will be able to meet some of our clients. Apparently the gig involves complimentary spa treatment--YES.
I start the real-life grown-up New York City job May 21. I am excited, luxury travel was what I had begun to focus on. By that I also mean I had applied to be a waitress on a cruise ship and had been selected as a candidate earlier in the week before the interview with Parasol. Fact. But in all seriousness travel PR sounds like a great fit for me. The gal I interviewed with had even just gotten back from visiting a client in Thailand. Um, awesome. I'm hoping I have some covered travel expenses coming up fingers cross? Parasol is a small company, however, that leaves room for much hands-on experience and makes my opinion within the company matter.

Speaking of finals- how did people ever get through that terribly long week without Facebook? I have one final left tomorrow, and then I just have to focus on finding an apartment within a very short time. Oh and moving out of this one. And catching a plane to Texas. And graduating. And moving stuff from Colorado. And..... The speedometer never slows.
BUTTTT the growth of my hair does. Especially after I had it done after my McDonald's meal and I STILL had to go back to the salon the following week for them to fix it becuase another situation was created by the hands of the one I trusted. Fortunately, the orange tinting only tainted the back of my hair and so I smiled radiantly on New York Live the next morning more confident in my poses than in my capability to dye hair.

 But even after my "fix" the hair still doesn't look great. And cost the amount of 200+ McChickens. And is requiring some intense TLC and hair masks. And is still beckoning me to dye it brown and just give up on my dream of being blonde.
I may end up listening to it.

Enough for a title: The Donald said I was good looking

So I have two weeks to pull my life together before I leave New York and graduate from college. Totally fine. I did have the opportunity to shake Donald Trump's hand this past week, so with his magic touch, bleak definately isn't a word I'd like to use for my future. I've had a few job interviews and made a few contacts, but man oh man is kicking off my career a trying task! I've mainly been looking for jobs in the city. I could be a New Yorker-- but I DO need to get some thicker skin, stop being so nice to everyone, and slough off the feeling of offense when men don't hold doors for me (one good thing about the country of Texas.)



A good idea.

I met the Donald. And he told me I was good looking. Well, he told the interns we were "a good-lookin' bunch." Ohhh close enough. Four of the Alison Brod interns went to Herald Square's Macys for the launch of the new fragrance, Success by Trump. When Donald actually came out to face the cameras, we were standing in the roped off press section feeling pretty cool and snapping candids with our so legit camera phones. I tried to get a snap of the gal who started crying when she met Donald, but a bald man who had a hair patch sprouting a long braid got in the way. We were told to moniter the chaos of the crowd, so when a random ipad user came in trying to snap shots I asked her if she was press. She wasn’t, and there was an awkward moment where I didn’t know what to do and just stood there (“Oh, umm, ok.”), and then she was asked to leave by security. The Macy’s public relations manager thanked me, and said I was too cute (underline awkward/embarrassed/flustered #internproblems). Come on New York I thought you were supposed to give me a backbone.
One of the funnier moments of the evening occurred when Ximena Navarrete, Miss Universe 2010, said her significant speech of “this is the best lotion ever” confirming that looks are more powerful than words. She meant men’s cologne, but hey, she’s foreign and gorgeous so who cares. They probably have different words for fragrances anyway; everyone forgave her pretty quickly. Ximena was there because she is the face of Success by Trump, aka the hot woman in the ad that gets people to stop flipping mag pages for a second to a) hate themselves and put down whatever they're eating and b) notice Trump's cologne. Success. Us four ABPR gals were in the last press shot with Trump and got to meet the suit who trademarked "You're fired." Pretty stellar feeling. I need to be a celeb.

This week I also attended a fall 2012 fashion launch event for Old Navy. Editors of Cosmo, Women's Health, More, etc were there to begin planning stories for their fall issues and having pictures on file of the not yet released trends. I checked them in and sampled the catering. Was totally stoked to leave with a cute swimsuit cover-up, beach bag, and full stomach. I find it bizarre that some media people think events like these are such a chore. Even if the newest trends and products don't catch interest, free stuff is always given, the catering is usually good, and cocktails are chic. Where are the down-sides?

In a couple of days I am going to be a dress model for the Old Navy Collection on an NBC New York Live segment which will feature a maxi dress worn in four different styles. All smiles and 45 degree angle arm poses. Hopefully Oscar Blandi won't be there to tell everyone on national television that my scalp is oily (like he did in my Wall Street Journal experience as a hair model) -- charming.
It's pretty bizarre that I have TWO days of my internship left. WHAT a semester it's been. I've been able to do so much from New York Fashion Week to playing model to meeting incredible people to using FAB beauty products.

I don't know if you knew this, but New York people are a different breed. The other week I witnessed a scantily dressed man dancing to the rhythms of LSD while another man played the bagpipes and a dreadlocked gal saturated in tie-dye sat on her rainbow blanket and soaked it all in. The gathered crowds watched the dude pick up random objects which consisted of a doll head on a crutch, a large duck helmet, bicycles, and other necesities to put on a good show. Last night I was sitting across from a gypsy-type wearing a sparkly head band, cat ears, a Harry Potter belt buckle, green hair wig, nail polish, and several other beautifying trinkets. He was shaking a maraca and I was creeping camera phone pics. I must say it is people like this that keep public transportation exciting.

 Last weekend some friends and I ventured into Hoboken to experience what my birth state had to offer in seafood restaurants. I met some people on the train over to Jersey (of course I did, I could talk to a wall) who recommended a spot that overlooked the NY skyline--pretty prime. Hoboken is cute, trendy, so different than what I expected. AND it is the home of Carlos Bake Shop. While we didn't get tickets and wait in line to get inside, it was cool to see where the creative genius of Cake Boss takes place.

CAKE BOSS!

Tonight I kicked off the Tribeca Film Festival with my first red carpet appearance. Literally entering into the theater on the red carpet really make me wish I had taken my heels out of my purse in exchange for my fold up flats sooner (#classy?). The film, Struck By Lighting, is about a high school senior who is struck by lightning and dies within the first thirty seconds of the film which is hilarious at the beginning and tragic at the end after you've fallen in love with the character. Main character Carson, played by Glee sensation Chris Colfer (who also WROTE the script--genius), is an aspiring writer who has to turn to blackmailing the a-list high school seniors to be taken seriously. He is trying to create a literary magazine in order to complete his dream of going to Northwestern. The film was excellent, and the applause, laughter, tears, and exclamations of the watching audience proved that. The cast came out for a Q&A session at the end of the world premiere, and the last question belonged to Emma Watson, Harry Potter wonder, herself. My roommate Audrey had her greatest starstruck experience, and I was just soaking it all in. On our way out Audrey and I saw some more Glee cast members in black SUVs. I have three more films to see for class, and am so happy I get to be a part of this global excitement.


Cast of Struck by Lightning

So..... future New Yorker (minus maracas, tye dye and bagpipes) ? Future Australian (still haven't given up on that)? Future <fill in the blank> ???

Lion hair and turtlenecks=fail.

My hairstylist the other week told me I need some New York sass in my hair. He gave me an edgy cut with layers, bangs, volume, and SASSSS. But when I walked into work today and my cowoker: "Oh, your hair. Haha, do you need some product?" Sass gone. Will not be reaching for the hair gel and pretending to be rocker status mixed with beach babe anytime soon. It was windy outside? On the positive side, I now know how to get more beauty samples?

DIVINE Little Italy

SPRING in New York

Catie one of my girlfriends from Baylor flew into the Newark airport late Thursday night, and to prevent from getting stolen or mugged had a car take her to Grand Central where I met her with the biggest smile and an even bigger embrace. Friday we spent walking away from the five hour line to Ellis Island and instead moved north. We meandered through Manhattan and ran into the first New York public park to grace the skyscraper playground, the famous bronze bull that is in every other movie, the Freedom Tower's construction site (that will be 1776 square feet, and has the original architect of the Twin Towers on the design team working for free at his request), the serene Trinity Church, and other New York sites. I played tourist for the day, but in retrospect with how busy I've been this semester there haven't been many days I've pulled out the camera and large sunglasses and just wandered. Catie and I snapped pictures at Wallstreet and of the Trump tower before we fantasized and drooled over diamonds in the Tiffany's store just off the cobblestone streets. We walked all of the way up to Chinatown where we bartered for goods before settling down at a table on a street corner in Little Italy. Little Italy is being taken over by Chinatown, and now is confined to about two blocks of AH-MAYYY-ZING restaurants. Splitting a bottle of wine, great food, and even better conversation that was only interupted with our cute Italian waiters was the PERFECT way to spend a relaxing few hours.
We ended the night with Fuerza Bruta at the Daryl Roth Theatre in Union Square. The show happens above, around and among the standing audience and is a crazy sensory experience. There was a collapsing cieling made touchable to the audience with girls swimming through water, a sexy man running through boxes and gunshots, and a destructive dance involving throwing objects and tribal-looking movements. The CRAZIEST dancer however, was this grey-haired man standing next to us. He was just jammin'-- eyes closed, hands in the hair, hips rickety-rackin, and it was hilarious. If I'm still that lively when I'm 75 I'll be feeling pretty high on life. I think he may have been high on something else... The theater looks more like a dance club than a theater, and the show even ends with a DJ, lights, and me dancing in the rain streaming from the ceiling above the audience--awesome, AWESOME time, and everyone sopping wet leaving the theater kept the outsiders so outta the loop.

Saturday was spa day on fifth avenue. Massages and manicures later Catie and I went to a romantic dinner at Felice's wine bar. Being surrounded by lovers and candlight sure lit the mood for our friend date, and we even threw in a "toots" and "schnookums" here n there just to keep our waiter entertained. Dangerfield's Comedy Club after din was hilarious--but it sure did make the dude in the dead center front wearing the TIGHTEST TURTLE NECK second guess his attire choice. Between him and the swingers group next to us, the comedians were given enough material to work with. What an awkward answer of "Oh, I don't know" when the swinger gals were asked "So... how do you all know each other?"

Gorgeous Gal!!

Easter morning was spent at St. Patrick's Cathedral off 5th Avenue, gorgeous 19th century cathedral. While I'm not Catholic, I feel like that was a definite check off the bucket list. Afterwards, I was able to escape the city for a few hours and spend Easter lunch at my Aunt's in Pennsylvania. I should've sported my fake Chinatown Gucci bag to make her proud, but decided to spare her the embarrassment that a good barter can give a college student. She probably wouldn't have sent me home with the BEST leftovers an Easter din can give--success.

A MAC AND CHEESE BAR (um.. incredible), Ellis Island, and Lady Liberty ended a much needed girls' weekend. And even though Catie's grandfather's name was the first plaque within the construction site (seriously?), it was still an incredible experience to stand in the halls where thousands of people that started our country (and thousands of tourists since) stood.

Hello Delicious--at S'MAC

Cannot believe these months have flown by, leaving me with one more month to experience New York... until I move back (undergrad hopeful?). More interviews to come---

plastic baby bellies, bourbon party favors, and other things worth having

The other week I ventured into downtown to meet Olivia Palermo, former The City television actress turned trend setting fashionista. She was doing a synchronized broadcast, meaning several television shows called in to interview her throughout the morning in a very chilly studio set. The reporters asked her what her faves were, and she talked about the very cute high heels, handbags, accessories and outfits surrounding her on set. ABPR's fashion team had some of our clients' samples in the mix and we set up the sync.The real fun was off camera, in the other room with her stylists and makeup artist. We down and dirty talked celebs, and my eyes are now open to a scandalous world of plastic pumped faces, plastic baby bellies, plastic everything. "Is her baby hers?" was a trending topic of conversation. Apparently it's commonplace for celebs to wear a fake tummy and turn to either surrogates or adoption to keep their bods. We talked Beyonce (it's actually hers, and apparently she's super glam, super nice in person), Nicole Kidman ("no way, she's too vain to get real-pregnant"), and others. Oh look at her, red carpet ready in just two weeks, and even with a baby...........goddess.
If you don't have plastic surgery, you don't have a job in Hollywood...or live there. I basically knew this, but didn't realize that even the "natural beauties" actual aren't natural and timeless. Think Jennifer Aniston...maybe I'm just super niave. I blame it on Loveland and Waco.... can't argue. I did compliment the hair stylist's third nose job after he confessed to the work of art. It looked good, really did.
I also found out Lindsay Lohan does coke behind her purse in public (was that really not public knowledge?), but that if everyone knew her background story the public may forgive her downward spiral. Eva Mendes is gay, among a couple surprising other mentions. SO many celebs don't know what fidelity is, especially on set....ETC ETC ETC
It was fun. It was eye-opening. I always thought I'd be the best celeb, but my cheeks would look wierd with plastic, a fake belly wouldn't fit into my morning routine, and I LOVE men. So...
Last week I went to a Stetson Western Wear spring collection launch party (Stetson is one of ABPR's clients)  and was the official hatwear assistant! It was way fun. The caterers kept bringing me delicacies (fatty in the room? it's fine), I'm awesome at the "That look's SO great on you!!!!" lines, I met the CEO of liquor.com, and I found a Bourbon drink that I enjoy. All of the guests were given Bourbon bottles as party favors, along with their new Stetson hats. HELLOOOO grown-up parties. At college parties the only thing you leave with is a stained shirt. And hopefully your dignity.

See bottom left.

That same week I was also able to attend the launch party of a new cosmetic line called Elle. Elle Cosmetics hired ABPR to launch their brand new makeup collection, and so the ABPR gals created an event in one of the studios at the Chelsea Market building. In the suite there was a fashion runway structure in the middle of the room, which split the room into two areas-- a backstage that had makeup artists and manicurists to test out the new Elle Cosmetics on curious bloggers sipping flower-infused cocktails (they looked awesome), and a front stage that included the fashion runway surrounded by chairs and displays of Elle makeup products. Pretty awesome that the room was totally transformed within a day (by this very attractive foreign couple who ran their own event business together, how do people fall into these adorable lives?). I was the official gift bag creator turned director of people to the event upstairs. The gift bags included as much makeup as three hours can take putting the product into gift bags, and red bows that had to be tied twice by me and then another time by someone else (fail?). And the bows were tied twice by me becuase the hang tags needed to changed last minute. The difference between the two was like night and day (see picture.) It was cool to see the kind of planning and execution of an event like that, and I even got a manicure backstage. Well, half of one, I had to grab some stuff the clean the white runway (double fail.)
This past week the intern gals, Cherie, Marissa, Carey, Audrey, and I went to lunch and chatted about one of the gals 36-year-old-divorcee-with-kids stalker/obsessor/fanatical texter who had nice shoes. "I swear he looked ten years younger." He must be from Hollywood. Or something.
So I haven't blogged in awhile. To make this not last forever, let's do a quick recap of the past weeks:

Bring your green hat!

The other night I was prevented from going to some kind of DJ Disco in Brooklyn becuase a fight broke out in the subway and a dude fell into the tracks and was killed--luckily I was not present. I've had AMAZING Spanish tapas at Boqueria (and a surprising first date), and also Macondo (you can write on the bathroom walls--made for a long line after Sangria). I filmed a work-in-progress segment for class in Madison Square Park using the name Jessica Fox... for FOXHUNT: New York-- seeking out the best the city has to offer! (hashtag famous).  Fell in love with LUKE BRYAN for his tight jeans and muscles when he played in concert with Jason Aldean in New Jersey; the concert was phenomenal. Finished all three Hunger Games books within a too short for public knowledge time period--seeing the movie with my film class Monday night, hollerrrr. Applied to 2340987 jobs. Had my first real New York City job interview with New York Business Partners, ANDDD was called back to a second interview scheduled for tomorrow--it will last a full day and I will be shadowing an exec in the company.

Black spots="Can I have highlights?"

 Saw THE BLACK KEYS in concert at MADISON SQUARE GARDEN--Awesome, awesome experience. Accomplished my goal of finding a green hat on St. Patrick's day in the city. Spent $500 on my hair color and cut which went from splotches and lines, to dyed black spots, to less black spots with an edgy super short cut, to even less black spots--both 40+ year-old stylists hit on me-- one offered a complimentary back massage followed by dinner and the other offered sushi for lunch the first time and to pick me up from class for a wild night on the town the second time, and it was all in all a terrible experience that could only be made up for by numerous hair masks and roommate talk therapy.
I witnessed a "long hair, don't care" kind of guy who appeared to be a member of Occupy Wallstreet roll a blunt in Union Square. I unpacked several boxes of MATRIX hair care products. Several.

See: Smoke.

Helloooo MATRIX products.

I also became one of those people that enjoys going to indy movies at the Angelika in New York by myself. Seriously though... it's invigorating.

Bocce Ball doesn't make you an ATHLETE, but 27 dates might

I think I tore my calf muscle running last weekend in Central Park (my foot has been numb ever since), and so I’ve been limping around the ABPR office all week. This put a little stress on me to keep up with the unofficial high heel policy, and I had to politely bend the rules in the name of flats. Don't think I went unnoticed.
...Especially by the spa package scam men on the street, who actually commented on my "so cute" flats (well, the guys wearing pastel did?). I literally made fun of two girls from our program last week for handing out their credit card info in exchange for a hypothetical spa packege, yet here I am now, a hypocrit who will soon have great skin and nails if my gamble proves legit.

This week I was a part of setting up ABPR's beauty product displays for the CEW (Cosmetic Executive Women) 2012 Beauty Awards. After overly filling two black SUVs with eye shadows/liners, lip sticks, face creams, hair product, those annoying acrylic display risers (which NO stores around ABPR sells, in case anyone was wondering...hashtag intern problems), and several beautiful sweet-smelling flower arrangements, I found myself barricaded into a backseat corner with pink ABPR bags piled on top of me. Once we arrived I shook out the leg cramps and helped Danielle, my mentor, set up Stila makeup and Darphin displays in one of the two large rooms designated for the beauty exhibitions. Vendors from all over came to showcase their latest and greatest in the hopes that later in the day the beauty magazine editors, CEW members, and other women of beauty prestige would choose their product for an award. It was fun to see all of the new makeup and skincare launches, as well as see brands I had never heard of before. Jodi, the VP at abpr mentioned that CEW membership fees raise for those women over thirty. Happy thirtieth you senior citizen. Oh, the beauty industry is cruel.

On Tuesday I met Danielle at the building in SoHo that will soon be the NYC Erno Laszlo Institute when it opens to the public later this year. We were meeting at a conference to gain product knowledge for Erno Laszlo skincare and sample some of the products ($250 velvet night cream anyone??). I really liked the animated speakers throughout the morning and began to wonder what public speaking, meeting new people, and traveling have in common... Oh, all of my interests. Add that to the job search list.

Tuesday night was a WICKED first Broadway show experience at the Gershwin Theater. While watching the performance I recognized songs that I've heard my 12-year-old little sister sing, but other than that I didn't know what to expect from the elaborate set with a huge red-eyed mechanical dragon looming overhead. Wicked is about the background story behind the Wizard of Oz classic. The Wicked Witch of the West, through her AWESOME vocals, relayed the real experience which involved a lot of miscommunication and bad luck. Quite entertaining, especially during the scene with Glenda (giggle, giggle, hair toss, hair toss) attempting to make green skin pahhh ahhh ahh ahhh ahh pular. All in all, a good field trip in leui of class........

I had 27 dates last week. They were all about three minutes long and, aside from the occassionally breach of personal space, I was entertained. For my Culture and Communications class I have to attend an event in New York City and write a research paper about a topic of communication. So hello physically fit and athletic singles speed dating!! I'm intrigued with first impressions, what people say and do to command initial attentions. Well, let me tell you what they do. Some sat next to me and kissed the top of my hand profusely; I'd describe the experience as wet. Another tried to intrigue me with his Spanish dance moves, which I must say I WAS intrigued until the dance started. And others tried to cram in as much info about themselves as if I had a large information retention capability. I played nice, didn't stare too intensely at hair line recedings, and even let someone buy me a slice of pizza. However, let me tell you, NONE of the candidates I'd personally place into the athletically fit category. It was on the same scale of me showing up at Asian singles night. Some men would sit down and one of their questions would be "so this is athletic singles night (thanks, didn't realize) and so what is it your into?" My alter ego came out in several different forms and throughout the night I became a scuba diving instructor, a skydiver fanatic, a marathon extraordinaire (eh I ran a half once) .... Meanwhile the male forms of athleticism included bocce ball, zumba, and the forementioned, Spanish dance. I think someone liked to ride bikes in there and there was one lone weightlifter that caught my eye until I noticed his near forty age lines.  Someone else should have brought their alter ego, then it really would have been a party. I didn't circle anyone's name on the sheet and therefore a mutual consentment to give out my contact information did not occur, but I do still recieve the physically fit singles! event emails on the reg.

First impressions are tricky. I decided a universally desired trait to creating a great first impression was the ability to make the other feel comfortable. Being (or at least acting?) genuinely interested, paying attention, smiling, open body language, contributing to convos......
It'll be a good college level research paper.

Falling Asleep on the Subway, Turkish hair care and other fun things.

My roots finally reached the tip of my ears (hopeful slight exaggeration?) and so I decided this weekend that it was time to get that fixed. This necessity became more pressured after a close up camera shot of the not blonde strands in a recent segment on the Wall Street Journal. I woke up late that day of the segment, and decided a shower wouldn’t be necessary to jumpstart my day. Little did I know my hair would be broadcasted to publics everywhere and high end stylist Oscar Blandi would point out that I have an oily scalp on air. Fab. At least he saved the “your hair color is so harsh” for moments beyond filming?

Ugh, interns.

The short segment was for Off Duty, a section on the Wall Street Journal’s website, and that day my hair was made over into curls to represent a hairstyle appropriate for the 2012 Oscars. I was told to smile at the camera while Blandi styled my hair, and if you watch the segment I think an awkward grimace would more accurately describe my facial expression. Smiling while your hair is being pulled is just weird anyway. Regardless, hair model on the resume. Check. And the chic, sophisticated salon enclosed by glass windows overlooking the city streets made for quite a nice ambience. The fruit infused water, foamy lattes, and shiny everything added to the glam.

This weekend, I decided to stray from my Aveda promise to never have my hair done anywhere else, and turned to lifebooker.com. ChicHighlights Salon sounded nice, I’d like some chic highlights? But when I was walking on the block of the salon passing the Hot n Crusty Pizza Parlor and 24 hour Duane Reed THAT’S the moment I began to feel uneasy. The salon was cute, quaint, small and run by a Turkish man who is apparently internationally talented in hair care. I sat in the chair, had a glass of red wine, and the stylist went to work while I talked Spanish culture with his assistant. By went to work, I mean throwing out all methodology and throwing in random aluminum foils. While he did an good job with adding gloss and conditioning treatment times three, I left the salon with some spots and stripes and roots that are forcing me to make a second appearance tomorrow (taking my roommate for moral support). To make matters worse I temporarily strayed from what is socially acceptable and decided I wanted bangs. Bangs. Bangs are for three types of people: thirteen-year-old girls trying to grow them out, high-end fashion models, and soccer moms. Since I fit into none of those categories, I made a new pact with myself to not only stick with Aveda, but to never use the sentence “Oh, why not?” because at the first step out of the salon all of the reasons are made clear to “not.”

At Alison Brod, Jodi, the vice president, had a meeting with all of the interns and opened with the line, “Stop quitting, just don’t do it” now that three interns have quit. We discussed what can be done to improve our internship experience, and all I had to say was more beauty samples because I really am learning a lot, and unpacking boxes is really just part of the job, I know this. Jodi’s awesome. She’s very real, very lively, and even painted my nails at work last week because some gals were playing with the polishes of a new client ABPR just landed. Jodi is now going to meet with the interns a day each week and go through the magazines that are published weekly to point out various PR efforts. Example: Source gives info about Kim Kardashian and Reggie Bush’s date at this restaurant, and eight pages later that same restaurant is featured as a new hotspot. Gossip is money in PR. I’ll trade this info, you feature my restaurant. And those “who wore it best” features? Don’t even think those are coincidental. Jodi also talked to us about various pitching strategies to land publicity for different products. Example: ABPR client Sky Vodka released Dragonfruit, so how do we show the public that Dragonfruit is totally a trending fruit? Yes, even fruits trend. Sometimes stories are generated from nothing, sometimes it takes a google search or a posed “candid shot” of a paid celeb on the street to launch the trending of a product.

"Your biggest smile, Jess!" Grilled Kanga.

So because Australia is on my potential next place to live list, last night I went to an Australian restaurant, Public. There were chili-infused margaritas, and they had a delicious biting kick. Since my roommate, Audrey and I had already eaten dinner (cereal for dinner anyone?) we split a grilled kangaroo appetizer. Despite feeling bad for eating the probably once cute animal, it was SO good and much enjoyed. We ended up going out dancing afterwards, and Audrey and I fell asleep standing up leaning on each other on the subway on the way home. We dance hard? Chris was there for protection and the usual 3 am mac n cheese.

Jill and Lisa, my girlfriends from high school came to visit the last weekend. We were mainly night creatures, but did take some time out in the daylight for a museum that featured Pamela Anderson, Paris Hilton, and some interesting costumes. We also took the ferry to Staten Island, passing the Statue of Liberty. While she was BEAUTIFUL and I felt so much pride looking at her, she was a bit on the small side? I do wish tourists could climb to the top of the statue, but since 9/11 that’s no longer an option. While Lisa is moving to Aruba in the summer for a while, Jill and I are becoming bogged down with anxiety about the job search. I gotta get a move on if I'm going to live in a foreign country. My goal really is just to get some experience somewhere first. The first two years of my career are most likely not going to be the highlights of it. I just need experience, build trust, skills and a resume, then on to bigger and better things...

If you're reading this....hire me?

Chiseled performances.

Come on. They KNOW they're gorgeous (Levi's Show)

Lights, camera, male models. What's up Levi's fashion show backstage. My second fashion show this week was for Levi's, and ABPR's client Stila produced makeup for the event. Chiseled is a good description. (Minus picture to right) For the models, and for the gay makeup artists as well (who I kind of gravitate to-and they gravitate towards me?). At the show today, I was told I could come until I "get in the way." (Hashtag internlife) Which is how I felt most of the time while I was standing there un-introduced. The two gals from the office and I went to the show to check in media backstage and make sure they get their interviews with Stila's celeb stylist, Sarah Lucero about makeup products. Oh my gosh, Sarah is the most vibrant woman, very friendly, always smiling. I liked her. She even introduced herself to little ole' me, the intern. Media would walk up, and the account exec from abpr would introduce herself and the other girl, and then a small glance would be made in my direction before moving on. Nice.

I chatted up this one gal who writes for Her Campus, a website dedicated to the college woman. I told her that I have just moved here and am an intern for abpr.

The lumberjack and the feminist. Male models.

"Oh, that's why they didn't introduce you," she jokes.
"I'm just waiting for my debut."

She was a gem -- said she'd put in good word for me, and gave me a pat on the back. I feel like I deserved that. I started chatting up people, but sometimes was tentative to. Hi I have no clue about fashion, but let me try to be charming in my naivete. Regardless, I found the !E team and introduced myself to Jenna, a girl I had also seen at the Alice+Olivia show but didn't have a chance to chat with. I think they were live blogging about backstage. There were no cameras following them. Jenna is very chic, and always wears a trendy hat. I need a statement look. I need a bigger bank account. (looking up sadly at my mac n cheese cupboard...)

Gosh the male models were attractive.
"Hey can I get a picture for our beauty client Stila?" One point for Jessica...

I didn't get a shot of my favorite, an Usher lookalike chatting up the hot foreign models (girls). I know how to pick em. Prob one of the only straight men there.

Alice+Olivia was the other show I went to this week. I was much needed to give a pen to the gal I went with out of my purse. It was my favorite leopard one. She never gave it back...

Sarah Lucero

While I was at Alice+Olivia I met Dustin, a hairstylist walking around with a camera following him (Sarah Lucero's husband was the camera man, and she was doing Stila makeup at this show as well). Dustin said he guessed I was 22, he could smell it (sniffs all of the air around me as I mentally take note I forgot to wear perfume. awesome.) We chat about life, and I say one of my thoughts was broadcasting, I'm just waiting for my moment.
"It's now girllll." Shoves microphone in my direction.
"Hi this is Jessica Foreman, reporting from Alice+Olivia. Currently I'm wearing Stila makeup like the rest of the models with a convertible color blush in coral...blah blah blah."
He was pretty funny.

Thought she owned the show. It worked for her (Alice+Olivia)

The dresses at Alice+Olivia were AWESOME!! Sequins galore, gorgeous, gorgeous gowns. My pick was a sequined corset dress that blossomed into a puffy ballerina skirt. The models looked fierce in dark, dark lips and liner, and even more fierce when posing. Made me want to be in front of a camera....which happened after I left the show. A woman with a camera stopped me on the street when I was leaving and asked to take my picture for street fashion during fashion week for a fashion website. Did she know I was wearing a fake leather jacket and a tunic from Ross? No, because I posed like I wasn't...hello fierce.

I started reading The Hunger Games, basically because I was looking for another Harry Potter kind of obsession and I need something else to do on the Subway besides look at people. They don't like that, and eye contact is usually awkward if the person doesn't get off at the next stop.

Not always though--this one guy had to have terets which was accompanied by a walking cane that he enjoyed banging on the ground while chanting dah dun dun dun. Better than the F word I guess... Anyways, looking up I met the other guy's eyes across the subway car we shared a "oh, we live in New York" chuckle.

Madison Square Park

Today I told the Staples worker I was the best intern ever as I made a smart decision to not only get more bubble wrap than expected but to save ten dollars. Feeling on cloud nine for my 7 block walk back through Madison Square Park I started getting my sexy city strut walk on. Remembering you can't be sexy with 175 feet of bubble wrap (after I watched Mr. Suit's man's eyes go from mine to my extra large bag over my shoulder), I toned it down and just took in the sun setting on the park, which I've grown very fond of. It has a clock tower that looms over, and large trees surrounding some sort of fountain that I'm sure has water in it during warmer months. I really do love all of the parks NYC has to offer. Gorgeous escape havens from architecture. Makes everyone remember that is this thing called nature out there. And space.

Valentine's Day was yesterday. Uzbekistan apparently banned the holiday and decided to focus on the Moghul emperor Babur's birthday. The country decided they're not a fan of western ideals. I was tempted to spend the day there, short flight. Instead I wore red lipstick, red high heels, and got a chocolate cream filled heart donut in the morning. The chocolate kept on coming all day; I call it loving myself. I even smiled at all of the men carrying bouquets to their significant others.
"Ohhhh that's a good one." Audible judgement on the street. He was probably taken by surprise as he did shoot a glance my way. I began to rate them throughout the day. Threw out a few 8 and 9s even.
The Empire State building was pink and red. It was beautiful.
Qdoba had buy one get one free entrees if hungry people "share a kiss with a significant other, friend, family member or even an understanding stranger at the cash register." Thank goodness I took my roommate Audrey with me. We had already been sharing the same lipstick all day. Don't think kissing an innocent stranger is beneath me when free food is on the line. (*see above mac n cheese reference)

Rumor has it one of the interns from Baylor got our group tickets to the Nicks game this Sunday playing the Dallas Mavs. I'm hoping the gal at David Letterman can pull some strings too eventually? (Shout out Logan!!)

One month anniversary NYC!

Our apartment has been singing our own renditions of award-winning Adele and the tragedy-stricken Whitney Houston throughout our failed watch party of the Grammies. Now that I’m incapacitated with Caitlin’s homemade popcorn and online delivery food, and a little petrified after Nicki Minaj’s offending exorcism bit that even Lady Gaga was rumored to say “Well, that’s weird,” I’m feeling exhausted. Marked by the purchase of another month-long subway card purchase, I’ve lived in New York City for an official month. While I cannot even imagine going back to living past experiences and a life I used to know, I’m starting to wonder where I’ll be in my future.

I met an Australian on the subway this weekend and chatted the world-traveled butler up about how he followed his husband to America, and also about his recommendation for my future home, Melbourne, Australia. Normal casual subway convos. Having an international affair and snorkeling the barrier reef IS on my bucket list and I think Australia, London, and of course New York City will be places I look for a job that begins after graduation…why not.

My fave, she was so pretty!

Designer Victoria Bartlett

My first New York City Fashion Week show was Saturday at Chelsea Piers on the Hudson River for the clothing line VPL by Victoria Bartlett. I escorted social media writers to the backstage craze where five different people would be hovering over a model with makeup brushes, hair product and flashing cameras while she sat there stone-faced. Elyse with ABPR was interviewing with the writers about our clients’ beauty products that were featured in the show. A glamorous looking man with perfect cheekbones said he liked all of my jewels as I was wearing a huge pearl necklace. I like to tell myself he was someone really important and I am someone who is aspiringly chic? After backstage was closed to media, I was able to watch the twenty-minute show that had the defining feature of underwear as outerwear. I kept on getting distracted with the awkward pelvic-thrusted walk of the models. While I saw many men in high heels carrying metallic purses, many skinny foreign models (“I am model.”), and the stylist herself, I’m not as star-struck as I thought I would be. What an incredible experience still!! But I left the show feeling very…hungry.

Chelsea Piers

Models in the show

Backstage chaos.

Stephanie came to stay with her New York Wall street intern beau, Eric, this weekend. After running into an embrace at Grand Central station we found a great restaurant that was featured this past week in New York Restaurant Week, called 9. After hours of salacious gossip and catching up, a bottle of wine, and exquisite food on Papa Americano, Stephanie's dad Herb, her boyfriend Eric and his roommate Drew stopped by (inconvienient timing, might I add, as our waiter had just began to give us a first round of drinks on the house).

We rendezvoused to a few other bars around Wall street before calling it a night.

The next day, Elyse, another girlfriend I had met in Spain, took the train into NYC to meet us for Spanish tapas and wine. Patatas braves, peach sangria, and tortilla Española later, Elyse had to meet her brother who goes to school here and Stephanie and I found ourselves arm and arm strolling Central Park (London’s Hyde Park flashbacks) and talking about our uncertain futures.

Saturday night it was a bit of a task to find someone to dominate the city with me. The only rallying I could do was with my roommates to the gym where we formed a circle and I taught them my memorized Envy Girls’ workouts (“Ok, now really focus on flexing here ladies!”) A very Jessica-type tattooed meat head came in mid workout, and so when I finally made it back to my apartment fourteen floors above our gym, I mustered up the courage to go down the elevator to Mr. Man and “look for my missing phone.”

“Have you seen my phone?” (Second time walking in--first time he was mid lift, and so when I left speechless my Baylor friends in the room next door gave me a quick pep talk)

“Um, no, no I haven’t...”

“Bummer…”

Jessica needs to work on her game. I buddied up to my lobby doorman, Gabriel, and asked for deets on the dude in the gym. “He only likes Asians, doesn’t look at anything else nice.”

“I could be Asian?”

“No, you really couldn’t.”

Fail….

Audrey and brought Gabriel a 4 am brownie after we finally went out based on our endorphin levels. It’s a good idea to have this informant on my side, and after late night binging on mac n cheese we didn't want it anyway.

Most exciting news of my internship week was the Millionaire Matchmaker coming into the ABPR showroom. I walked right past her, unnoticing. Another fail. For me and my future rich husband. Apparently Melissa Joan Hart from Sabrina the Teenage Witch was in the office the same day, and I'm sure I walked right past her too. I need to be more celeb aware...

I was able to sit in on an Erno Laszlo (expensive skincare line that had specific formulas designed for Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, other icons) meeting with the UK publicity team as they set out their 2012 goals and discussed new product launches. I very much enjoyed this, not only becuase of their British accents, but it was exciting to hear about the plans for a grand opening party (classy classy, super glam) of an Erno Laszlo Institute in the States set for this year.

I finally made it to church--a necessary fuel to conquer my uncharacteristic apathetic mindset to several components of my life right now. Trinity Grace is a church with several locations around the city, and I was intrigued when someone said that an Australian pastor heads it all (OK THE SIGNS ARE EVERYWHERE!), and I figured what a great way to keep me awake on a Sunday morning, or in this case a Sunday evening as the 5pm service on the lower east side is more appropriate after sleeping off a 4am mac n cheese binge with my roommate (ew).

I have two more fashion week shows this week: Alice+Olivia and Levi's. Need my beauty sleep to keep up, or maybe some of those $250 Laszlo face creams.

Designated brain waves

I’m crossing over to the NYC lifestyle—sitting in a coffee shop blogging in the “Laptop room” as laptops are not permitted in the record room where records cover the walls and are available to listen to while you drink your perfected brew. Who would want to ruin their coffee experience with a computer? So not artistically chill.

Queens has many unique neighborhoods, and that’s what characterizes home for many New Yorkers I think. The hustle and bustle of the city has its pleasures, excitement, appeal, but when you find yourself alone among the masses, it’s the neighborhoods that provide an escape and a quintessential homely haven.

Emily, Audrey, and Cherie at the "Intern Table"

I’m beginning to feel like an essential contributor at my internship, and this brings much more enjoyment to the table for me. This week my biggest project was planning/sending out a shipment of new Matrix products to editors of consumer and trade magazines in the hopes that the newly launched Matrix Colorcare line would be a future feature in an upcoming issue. The pr plan of enticement was to first send an orchid flower to the editor with a tag of “an orchid’s color never fades, soon you’ll realize your hair color doesn’t have to either…keep your eye out to find out how” or something or other and then the box of hair product would be received a little later. Creative. Love that idea. That is one thing about ABPR I like. Fresh ideas, original angles. I had to unpack boxes of Matrix products, order bags-the right color of pink tissue paper-the right sized boxes-orchid plants, put together numerous gift bags, tie bows. Wednesday felt like an arts and crafts day. I stuffed gift bags with tissue paper, tied pink bows, put together boxes, wrapped and re-wrapped…

Thank goodness this was my project...

Yes I’m the runner and the bottom of the totem pole, hello I’m an intern. In all of that though, while I didn’t create the idea, I implicated the plan, did all of the grunge work, made it happen, and I have to find satisfaction in that. Expert gift bag coordinator, Skilled Fed-ex label creator—check. Put that on the resume.

...and this wasn't!! SO MANY.

Baked by Melissa cupcakes are a client of ABPR, and when the man comes in to discuss his PR account, he always brings in a batch. Wednesday they were blueberry flavored and the bite-sized artistically decorated cakes were too beautiful and too small to consider the probably 50 cals in each one. So I had four. The other evening, I dropped in a cupcakery on the Lower East Side, which used to be considered affordable and low-end but now is morphing into a pricier hipster scene full of cute boutiques and delish restaurants. Almond icing, lemon cake and raspberry infused filling formed Princess Dream which would just make sense for me to purchase. I think finding a different cupcake bake shop each week could be a healthy New York habit.

Alison Brod talked to me this week. She critiqued my bows on the sendout, which I happily fixed, said my dress was cute, which I had tried on from the showroom in the office, and when I brought her a slice of pizza (she bought me one too) she talked about her cravings and gotta have it moments. She’s human. I still consider her a celebrity, and she still doesn’t know my name, but hey, progress.

Inside the ABPR showroom. Clothes,
accessories, shoes galore.

And my mentor still addresses me as “The Intern” via email and IM. What’s in a name anyway. My mentor still rocks.

Audrey had luck this week at work, and stopped by a press conference for Godiva Chocolate which was hosting a Valentine's day sweepstakes for couples to write in their love stories to be critiqued by  romantic novelist Nicolas Sparks. For added publicity, one of Sparks' many fans, Blake Lively (GOSSIP GIRL) was there as well. Audrey sent me a blurry pic of my idol from her camera phone. Still ecsatic for her, and will forcibly make her watch an episode.

SKRILLEX (click on link for YouTube video of performance) came to Pacha this past Wednesday, and what a wild experience that finally ended around 7 am.  Yes I wore my pink hair extensions and rave wear, and no everyone didn’t live up to the normal attire expectations that a dub-step concert brings (think pasties, animal hats, and everything provocatively weird). The one thing that remains consistent when attending a dub-step concert is the unifying experience. The whole crowd is moving, dancing, hands in the air; it’s a sea of moving bodies, some without rhythm. Skrillex is hard to listen to without moving, the beat, the industrial sounds, the drops, the bass. It’s more about losing yourself in the atmosphere. Everyone’s “alter-ego” comes out. Mine involves challenging everyone around me to dance-offs. I’d like to think I was winning until about 5 am.

I did meet many interesting people. One was a German who was admittedly on drugs and also a European-renowned ballroom dancer who had traveled all over the world in competitions. He’s going to be a director someday in the horror or comedy department. Similar genres...? Another cute guy (think Timothy Olyphant or Josh Duhamel) ruined his appeal with back to back text messages x5, and his life story about a quest to be an opera singer. Looking forward to re-saving the rejection hotline phone number. Tips: when meeting someone at a club at 4am, one text the next day, if you ever actually use the number attained, can be considered appropriate. Ten just brings up images of men in tears or future serial killers. Both are disturbing.

On my way to find Pacha, the five story club that also has a location in my beloved city, Madrid, I asked some promoters in Times Square for directions. They ended up being comedians. We chatted for awhile, and they gave me four free tickets to their shows. Whoever said New Yorkers aren't friendly never stopped to ask for directions...