Facebook Warned Me?

Today I received a rather surprising message from Facebook, considering our surprisingly good relationship lately. The email read as follows:

You made one or more wall posts that violated our Terms of Use. Among other things, posts that are hateful, threatening, or obscene are not allowed. We also take down posts that attack an individual or group, or advertise a product or service. Continued misuse of Facebook's features could result in your account being disabled.If you have any questions or concerns, you can visit our FAQ page at http://www.facebook.com/help.php?topic=wposts

Well Facebook, I have some concerns. First, I have traced and retraced my activity over the past few days and can't seem to find what you consider to be "hateful, threatening, or obscene." My last wall post was "Happy Birthday"... Where did we go wrong Facebook? I'm starting to think you don't like me, but I don't know why. I always play by your rules. I do my best to attend the events you recommend. I try to send warm wishes to every birthday boy and girl you tell me about. I even go so far as to keep you updated on my latest likes and dislikes, activities, work, and music tastes. I know you may not like the fact that I don't use your chat feature, but that is no reason to send me emails threatening to disable my account.

Whatever your reasons Facebook, I hope we can reconcile. I'd be lost without you.

War and Peace

In need of a book and somewhat of a time filler, I found myself strolling through the aisles of a small book store in Grand Central on my way home. After looking at all the titles, I kept returning to Tolstoy. I've always wanted to read War and Peace, maybe just for the challenge, I'm not sure. For some reason some of my favorite books turn out to be the ones that are really long and are filled cover to cover with the small details of everyday living. So anyway, as I lugged my small dictionary sized book to the counter the cashier gave me a look and sent me on my way with an apologetic "good luck" that made me second guess my choice. However, I'm 50 pages in and I'm already finding amusement in the last names of the characters. Sergyevitch, Mihalovna, and here's my favorite Vladimirovitch. Thats correct, 14 letters, I counted. The first thought that popped into my mind after this discovery was thinking how stressed out I would be if I had to bubble the name Vladimirovitch in on a standardized test. Probably not the type of thoughts Tolstoy hoped to provoke when he wrote this novel...

A Scroll Through Memory Lane

I the midst of a New York thunderstorm I found myself taking shelter inside my room and somehow I managed to stumble upon my old Xanga. Yes, I had a Xanga- and for those of you who missed the Xanga craze... I'm sorry, it was wonderful. Reading through all my old entries, it was just weird to discover that despite all the little details you forget about your life, a quick read and you remember everything you were feeling at those exact moments.

In case any of you find yourself trapped indoors and are in need of some nostalgia, here is the life of Katie Chapin circa 2004.

http://www.xanga.com/HangLoosKC

We know there's Love In This Club... but what's outside?

I love Usher, and probably listen to Love In This Club more than is socially acceptable to admit, but seriously- when you reach your twenties is that all that's left? Does everyone find love intoxicated? Am I too naive in wanting to believe that old fashioned romance still exists? I'm going to answer my own question and say probably. I mean did it ever really exist... or was that something created by novels and TV dramas?

In a scripted drama, even the girl with her head buried in a book always finds some way to get the boy. In the real life she has to put the book back on the shelf and exchange her cup of tea for a can of beer.

Miss, you have some beautiful eyes.

Is it sad that this comment stopped me on the street? Am I so desperate for attention from anyone in NY that I will turn to strangers on the street for my validation?

The answer to both of these questions is most likely yes. As I was walking towards the French restaurant right next to my building a doo rag clad, straight baseball cap wearing, guy was watching me approach. When I came close to him, he said, "Miss, you have some beautiful eyes." By the time he finished his sentence, I was already a few feet past him, but I was so shocked by his statement that I literally stopped, turned, and tried to say "Thank you." I'm not even sure if the words came out of my mouth or not, but he answered, "You are most definitely welcome."

I'm not really sure what significance this encounter plays in the larger scheme of things, but it's always nice to receive a compliment.

There's Something In the Water

FRUIT. I love my gym. Most girls go to the gym to work off drinks from the night before, check out guys, read the latest Cosmo... I go to the gym for the fruit water (OK... and for a few of the aforementioned items). Every morning my gym puts out a clear cooler of water topped off with different type of fruit.

And while this probably doesn't sound thrilling to anyone else... I find it quite amusing. I've been going there for 2 weeks now and there haven't been any fruit repeats! I can't explain the excitement that builds each morning on the subway as I try to anticipate the fruit of the day. I've experienced water with the essence of kiwi, strawberry, orange, lemon, honeydew melon, grapefruit, pineapple...the list goes on!

It's official. I'm a water [accessorized with fruit] addict.

The Wall

Getting a good seat at a musical is pure luck. You can't buy the best seats in the house. The reality is, the quality of your seat is determined by the person who sits in front of you. Today, I was not in the lucky crowd. Today I was seated behind a wall of hair. Now I'm a large, frizzy haired girl myself, so I don't often have anything to say about anyone else's hair, but for this I'll make an exception. I was out frizzed, out sized, and out walled by a mere teenage girl. She was the skinniest, boniest thing I've ever seen WITH THAT MUCH HAIR. However, to add to the problem, the girl decided that she wasn't too old for a booster seat. So here I am, seated behind a TALL wall of hair.

Needless to say I didn't get to see much of Mary, but the singing was wonderful.

Today I Fell in Love...

with the New York Public Library. Really, it was love at first sight. I walked into its entry way in all of its glorious splendor and I knew that THIS was the mecca of all library lovers. I've never set foot in such an awe inspiring library (and I've been to my fair share). So I'd have to say my first date with the Humanities and Social Sciences Library was absolutely perfect. And I can't wait for my second date- the 1 hour tour.

HELLO Ladies

In order to keep myself busy and make the most of my time here in the city, I've been waking up earlier than necessary to head to the gym before work. However, I have to admit, my main motivation in going to the gym every morning is their showers. I will not go into detail of the bathroom in my apartment, but it has been an excellent source of motivation to get me out of bed and out on the streets in the morning dressed in athletic gear. Anyway, this is my first real experience with the ways of the ladies locker room. I think the last time that I really had to deal with a locker room was high school gym, but that did not prepare me for what I've been dealing with here.

I really need to find someone who can give me a firm stance on appropriate locker room behavior. Because frankly, I'm shocked. Women somehow seem to lose all sense of modesty when they enter those doors. I won't say that the gym doesn't encourage it, with those itsy bitsy teeny weeny white towels they provide, but lets just say that some of these ladies forgo the towel all together. Now traipsing around naked is one thing, drying your hair naked is one thing, BUT having a conversation while in the nude, WHAT IS THAT?

This morning, as I was getting dressed (carefully maneuvering with that teeny tiny towel) I somehow opened myself up to conversation when the lady next to me commented on the fact that Rihanna was giving a concert for The Today Show. She was standing behind me and said, "I love Rihanna." Intrigued (by my amazing taste in music) I replied (my back to her), "Me too." As she started to say something else, I turned to look at her and yes she was greeting me with nothing. To be honest, I was thrown, mainly because I wasn't sure where to look (up, down, away?). And the worst part was that she was completely comfortable talking to me that way. And now, after all of this, the only thing I can take away from this whole experience is that I no longer "love" or even like Rihanna. I blame her for this whole incident and I regret buying Take a Bow on itunes last week. There I said it.

Humdinger

Today was laundry day. For any of you who are graced with the pleasure of having to make that weekly trip to the laundry mat, you understand the true torture of this event. However, despite my inner dread that rises every time I realize I've run out of clothes, I'm starting to look for the entertainment in my experiences.

Today there was plenty.

Now this is only the second time I've actually been to this laundry mat, and but it is usually filled with an eclectic mix of people. And today was no exception. But before I introduce you to Mr. Humdinger, you have to understand that the laundry mat is set on a radio station known for playing today's latest pop. So as I'm sitting, reading my book, waiting for the washer to finish- enters Mr. Humdinger. He looks normal enough. He looked normal, but he didn't sound normal.

After a few minutes he started doing this half-hum half-sing sort of sound. Have you ever heard a half-hum-sing? If not, hope that you never do. So it is just me and Mr. Humdinger in the laundry mat, and he is hum singing as loud as he can- no shame whatsoever. I figured he would grow bored of his hum singing, but he did not. So when I finally came to terms with the fact that it would not stop, I started to listen closer. For awhile I thought he was humming along to the music. But as Rihanna's Take a Bow came blasting out of the stereo, Mr. Humdinger might as well have been humming to Cat Steven's Peace Train.

After this discovery I started to feel bad for Mr. Humdinger, mainly because I realized that he would never be able to play Cranium. What a shame.

Chivalry Translates Across Cultures

Many people believer that New Yorkers are hardened by the city. They walk fast. They are forward. They don't waste time with pleasantries. But don't let these things fool you, today I decided that they are really softies on the inside. My evidence came in the form of an elevator ride.

As I was waiting for the elevator to arrive this morning and take me back down to the ground level, I was accompanied by a gentleman standing to my right. As he was positioned closer to the elevator than I, I figured he would get on first. But to my surprise when the elevator stopped, he held out his hand to hold the door and let me in first. Then when the elevator reached the ground floor, he repeated the gesture. Figuring it was a fluke, I walked to work and was baffled by a similar scenario. To think, I've been here for a few weeks now and I'm just now realizing that chivalry exists in Manhattan...despite the revolving doors.

I'll keep you posted on any further discoveries on my mission to find southern hospitality in the city.

What do you think?

There is something about these 4 words that make my brain go to mush. Every day so far I've been asked my opinion, and every day so far I've babbled out some 'I don't know' answer. I had this epiphany last night and decided that today I was going to give an incredibly intelligent response to boost my image. No such luck. The worst part is that in my head all I can think while I'm talking is, SAY SOMETHING, SAY SOMETHING SAY SOMETHING, and the only thing that comes out is... "ummm, I'm not sure."

File This Away...

Today I was given the simple task of moving all the contents of the file cabinet in my office to another file cabinet down the hall. Today I failed the simple task of moving all of the contents of the file cabinet in my office to another file cabinet down the hall. In the process, I managed to break the file cabinet and my self-confidence.

Day 2.

Office Space

What is the best thing that could be bestowed on an intern on their first day? Their very own office, you say? To put things in perspective, I'm working in an office that is bigger than my bedroom. Thats New York for you.

I Made Friends...

They are named Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte, and Miranda. To fill the void in my own life, I decided to live vicariously, as I often do, through the scripted drama of Sex and the City. For some reason the glamour and excitement that fills their lives is just intoxicating. However, I just can't imagine living that way. It's strange to think about- can we ever really change our innate tendencies? Could any one of us actually become a Sex and the City glamour girl, or are we all on some pre-destined path?

I'm starting to believe the latter.

Yet there are those people who have life-changing experiences. Experiences that seem to shift everything into place- and I guess I'm searching for one. But I'm starting to realize you can't create or predict a life-changing experience. Because despite my attempts to thrust myself into those pivotal turning points in life, from what I can gather, everything feels exactly the same.