My first.
and its.....
AL ROKER!!!
yesssss. i'll take it.
He was walking towards me, looking very nonchalant and casual. I was staring at him, and he saw me. I kinda smiled at him as I passed.
Location: E84th and Lexington
Time: 7pm
More famous types need to come uptown.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Monday, November 19, 2007
This one time I was on set for the Sex & the City movie...
So, I somehow ended up on this email list (I think it was from a craigslist posting) that gives insider information for where and when they are going to be doing a taping for the Sex & the City movie here in NYC.
For instance, I got this info. yesterday for today's filming:
Lennox Hill Hospital
10 East 77th Street at Lexington Avenue (2nd Floor)
Stand Ins: 7:30AM and 2PM report
Background: 7:30 AM and 3PM report
4 babies- 10:30am, noon, 1:30pm, 3pm
One scene is exterior Fall season, One is Spring Season
Well, last week or maybe before I got one of these emails for a 9AM call for stand-ins in the Gramercy/ Flatiron area. Me, being oblivious and not down with movie-lingo thought
that they were just calling for random people from the streets to come in and be an extra essentially. So I went to the Hotel Giraffe on Park Avenue South and East 26th for my big screen debut and for my chance to finally see someone famous.
So I get there, and there's something definitely going on- definitely a movie. Oh wait! There's "Big"!! I go up to one of the Production Assistants and tell her that I am here to be a stand-in and I was told to go to the 11th Floor of the hotel at 9AM. She says she's not sure and sends me to another P.A., who then sends me to another one. This dude keeps "SHHH!"-ing me, so I talk quieter. He gets pissed cause I'm not supposed to be talking while they are filming. At this point, I'm like actually on the set. I see "Big" and he's getting in and out of the back of a black car over and over again. There were no girls in site. Bummer. So I continue on, telling him the information I received. He asks where I got it- and I said in an email. Then he's saying my name over his walkie talkie to some production people I assume asking where I should be! He asked me, "What agency do you work with?" and for some number or something, and at that point, well actually before then, I realized that perhaps I'm not really supposed to be IN the movie, and that maybe the information was just to fill me in on where they were filming. But I just played along, cause well, I made it this far- let's see how far I can take this.
I told him I was independent, and that I wasn't represented by any agency. Then he said they didn't need stand-ins for this scene. Hmm. Another PA said, "She'd be great for the fashion show tomorrow." I thanked them, walked away, and pretended to be really confused. I told the first PA woman I spoke to that I guess I had been given wrong information. She was like, "Well its weird that it said the 11th floor and the time and everything. Why don't you go up and see." So she let me go INTO the hotel, knowing that I had no business being there, but figured what the hell. I was waiting to see Carrie and Charlotte having breakfast in the lobby, but no such luck. I went up to the 11th floor and it opened to an entire floor of production stuff. Cameras, lights, dudes who knew how to work the cameras and lights. I told one of them the same lie- that I was supposed to report here to be a stand-in. They were super nice- one of them even thought he saw me-or my jacket at least on the subway this morning. But, he was going north, and me, south, so no. They mentioned some holding area on another street and other avenue and then I left.
I left the site, hoping to find the "holding area." I walked into a building, but they looked at me funny when I asked if they were there for the movie. I walked around some more, then gave up on movie stardom. On my way back to the subway, I walked past the Hotel Giraffe to try to see if something new was going on, but was trying to be discrete since I had already been lurking on set before. I didn't want them to think I was just some stalker or something... (obviously I am).
For instance, I got this info. yesterday for today's filming:
Lennox Hill Hospital
10 East 77th Street at Lexington Avenue (2nd Floor)
Stand Ins: 7:30AM and 2PM report
Background: 7:30 AM and 3PM report
4 babies- 10:30am, noon, 1:30pm, 3pm
One scene is exterior Fall season, One is Spring Season
Well, last week or maybe before I got one of these emails for a 9AM call for stand-ins in the Gramercy/ Flatiron area. Me, being oblivious and not down with movie-lingo thought
that they were just calling for random people from the streets to come in and be an extra essentially. So I went to the Hotel Giraffe on Park Avenue South and East 26th for my big screen debut and for my chance to finally see someone famous.So I get there, and there's something definitely going on- definitely a movie. Oh wait! There's "Big"!! I go up to one of the Production Assistants and tell her that I am here to be a stand-in and I was told to go to the 11th Floor of the hotel at 9AM. She says she's not sure and sends me to another P.A., who then sends me to another one. This dude keeps "SHHH!"-ing me, so I talk quieter. He gets pissed cause I'm not supposed to be talking while they are filming. At this point, I'm like actually on the set. I see "Big" and he's getting in and out of the back of a black car over and over again. There were no girls in site. Bummer. So I continue on, telling him the information I received. He asks where I got it- and I said in an email. Then he's saying my name over his walkie talkie to some production people I assume asking where I should be! He asked me, "What agency do you work with?" and for some number or something, and at that point, well actually before then, I realized that perhaps I'm not really supposed to be IN the movie, and that maybe the information was just to fill me in on where they were filming. But I just played along, cause well, I made it this far- let's see how far I can take this.
I told him I was independent, and that I wasn't represented by any agency. Then he said they didn't need stand-ins for this scene. Hmm. Another PA said, "She'd be great for the fashion show tomorrow." I thanked them, walked away, and pretended to be really confused. I told the first PA woman I spoke to that I guess I had been given wrong information. She was like, "Well its weird that it said the 11th floor and the time and everything. Why don't you go up and see." So she let me go INTO the hotel, knowing that I had no business being there, but figured what the hell. I was waiting to see Carrie and Charlotte having breakfast in the lobby, but no such luck. I went up to the 11th floor and it opened to an entire floor of production stuff. Cameras, lights, dudes who knew how to work the cameras and lights. I told one of them the same lie- that I was supposed to report here to be a stand-in. They were super nice- one of them even thought he saw me-or my jacket at least on the subway this morning. But, he was going north, and me, south, so no. They mentioned some holding area on another street and other avenue and then I left.
I left the site, hoping to find the "holding area." I walked into a building, but they looked at me funny when I asked if they were there for the movie. I walked around some more, then gave up on movie stardom. On my way back to the subway, I walked past the Hotel Giraffe to try to see if something new was going on, but was trying to be discrete since I had already been lurking on set before. I didn't want them to think I was just some stalker or something... (obviously I am).
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
The City's Babies
It's a strange thing to fathom, as a suburban-raised child, to imagine my life growing up any other way. Minivans. School buses. Vacations. Big houses and backyards. Pets. Mall trips and grocery stores. Getting your license and eventually your own car- if you were lucky. These are things that define a "normal" childhood, but my "normal" does not apply here at all.
When I think about who lives in New York City, I think about young professionals from all over the country who are here with big dreams. Or rich older people with fancy apartments and drivers. Or the people with street cred whose families have been born and raised in NYC for years. Who are the forgotten ones? The many, many children.
A child being born and raised in New York City seems to me like such a far out idea. "It's weird to think that kids are actually raised here." It seems like one of those things only in movies, but obviously it happens here, and it still ceases to intrigue me. "They don't know any different," said one mom. And its true. But they're here- and there is no shortage.
The middle-class we know is transformed completely in the realm of the urban playground.
The children take public transportation to school- subway or bus. They take lessons- piano, French, dance, Spanish, Hebrew (because a city child must be 'cultured'). They have nannies. They have doormen. When they leave the city, their parents use a rental car to travel to Connecticut or Vermont. They share a room with their sibling and are used to limited space. They might have a tutor. They are in a "gifted" school, but its still labeled with a number- Public School (P.S.)- ##. Their parents don't get home from work until really late. They were pushed in strollers down Broadway and are now running with bookbags across it on their way home from school.
The truth is that it is extremely inconvenient to have children here. Things cost way more obviously. NYC is a place where babysitters get paid $15 hour to watch a 22-month year old child when she is sleeping (personal experience), while the parents go out and frolic around town for dinner or Cirque du Solei at Madison Square Garden or take a private French lesson. There are no ramps for strollers on the subway, just stairs and more stairs. A family trip out means that everyone bundles up and heads out with their Metrocards- or piles into a taxi. Finding a good school is incredibly difficult.
The strange thing I noticed about some of these kids is that they are not at all street smart or well-versed on their own city beyond their neighborhood- "Upper West Side is the besssst side!" I think the constant being ushered around by over-paid babysitters and being spoiled and sheltered has not allowed them to really take in their surroundings. It frightens me that we were only about 10 blocks from the family's apartment, and they (ages 12 and 9) did not know the order of the avenues or the north-south numbering of the streets, and thus, could not find their way home. And all the languages in the world can't help them with that.
When I think about who lives in New York City, I think about young professionals from all over the country who are here with big dreams. Or rich older people with fancy apartments and drivers. Or the people with street cred whose families have been born and raised in NYC for years. Who are the forgotten ones? The many, many children.
A child being born and raised in New York City seems to me like such a far out idea. "It's weird to think that kids are actually raised here." It seems like one of those things only in movies, but obviously it happens here, and it still ceases to intrigue me. "They don't know any different," said one mom. And its true. But they're here- and there is no shortage.
The middle-class we know is transformed completely in the realm of the urban playground.
The children take public transportation to school- subway or bus. They take lessons- piano, French, dance, Spanish, Hebrew (because a city child must be 'cultured'). They have nannies. They have doormen. When they leave the city, their parents use a rental car to travel to Connecticut or Vermont. They share a room with their sibling and are used to limited space. They might have a tutor. They are in a "gifted" school, but its still labeled with a number- Public School (P.S.)- ##. Their parents don't get home from work until really late. They were pushed in strollers down Broadway and are now running with bookbags across it on their way home from school.
The truth is that it is extremely inconvenient to have children here. Things cost way more obviously. NYC is a place where babysitters get paid $15 hour to watch a 22-month year old child when she is sleeping (personal experience), while the parents go out and frolic around town for dinner or Cirque du Solei at Madison Square Garden or take a private French lesson. There are no ramps for strollers on the subway, just stairs and more stairs. A family trip out means that everyone bundles up and heads out with their Metrocards- or piles into a taxi. Finding a good school is incredibly difficult.
The strange thing I noticed about some of these kids is that they are not at all street smart or well-versed on their own city beyond their neighborhood- "Upper West Side is the besssst side!" I think the constant being ushered around by over-paid babysitters and being spoiled and sheltered has not allowed them to really take in their surroundings. It frightens me that we were only about 10 blocks from the family's apartment, and they (ages 12 and 9) did not know the order of the avenues or the north-south numbering of the streets, and thus, could not find their way home. And all the languages in the world can't help them with that.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Missed Connections
Everyday on the subway. You catch his eye. He catches yours. You should have said something, but you didn't. Here's your chance.
You gave me money for the subway! - w4m
you were waiting for a customer by central park (riding one of those bike/cab things) It was freezing, i was only wearing a green hoody. you were (i suspect)of eastern european backround. i asked you directions to get home (55 blocks away), on the verge of tears. i explained that my wallet was stolen... you gave me money for the subway and i blew kisses at you all down the block. in that moment, i wanted to marry you. but now, i just want to thank you for your kindness. i forgot to ask your name... ask me mine.
Saturday Night at 9 on the Q with tubs of mozzarella - m4w
We sat across from one another when you got on at 14th Street. You wore a green jacket with a little zipper pocket on the wrist of your left sleeve, you had big blue eyes, you weren't wearing any earrings. You had a little bag with tubs of mozzarella inside. I was wearing a black leather jacket over a red hoodie. I thought you were an absolute dream and would have loved to have known your name. I must have been insane not to abandon my plans and join you when you got off at Canal. Oh well. Perhaps you'll see this.
South Asian (Indian) Guy on Downtown 6 Train - w4m - 26
saw you on the 6 Downtown train today (Sunday) around 230ish. I forgot what station you got on but it was after 59th. You were South Asian/Indian, reading a packet or something, with a red hat, a black backpack and brown (tan) shoes. I was the Indian girl with the bright coat and long hair sitting down behind you. This is a shot in the dark but thought I'd see if you actually saw this-you were incredibly cute and intriguing!
On the 1 uptown or was it the 2? who knows.. - m4w - 23 (Midtown)
let's see, this was on Thursday night, I was heading uptown to visit some friends and really just spend some trivial time when I saw you across the train car. You were blonde, with freckles, and green eyes to kill for. I wanted to tell you right away (like they used to do in the old times) that I wanted to marry and have a big family with you, and travel the world and grow old, or of course at the very least grab a cup of coffee together and talk. But I was too shy, how could I have not been shy when I had the most beautiful vision for the day/week/lifetime. Anyway I'm very doubtful you'll actually get to see this; in any case, I thought I should do my part in telling the world there's such a beautiful creature walking the earth. Who was I? The tall guy with black hair and dark brown eyes, wearing a green jacket who was staring at you and trying to figure out something nice to say until you got off, the same guy who didn't have the courage to get off at your stop and follow you and tell you how I felt. PS I think it was the number one, but in my state of awe at the moment, I could have been on an airplane to China for all I cared.
To the pretty Latino I left at 167th St. - w4m - 23 (Manhattan->167th St. Bronx)
We were on the 4 heading Uptown. We were in different cars, but when I got off at 167th you saw me through the window. The train pulled away and you looked back at me and I smiled at you. You are a gorgeous latino with a plaid(?) scarf and I am a petite gringa with a blue scarf. These are the stories romantic comedies are made of...
I want some subway love
-----------------------------------
Guys, Quit Acting All Shifty on the Subway and Ask Us Out Already!
Ladies, Stop Edging Away From Us On The Subway And Ask Us Out Already!
You gave me money for the subway! - w4m
you were waiting for a customer by central park (riding one of those bike/cab things) It was freezing, i was only wearing a green hoody. you were (i suspect)of eastern european backround. i asked you directions to get home (55 blocks away), on the verge of tears. i explained that my wallet was stolen... you gave me money for the subway and i blew kisses at you all down the block. in that moment, i wanted to marry you. but now, i just want to thank you for your kindness. i forgot to ask your name... ask me mine.
Saturday Night at 9 on the Q with tubs of mozzarella - m4w
We sat across from one another when you got on at 14th Street. You wore a green jacket with a little zipper pocket on the wrist of your left sleeve, you had big blue eyes, you weren't wearing any earrings. You had a little bag with tubs of mozzarella inside. I was wearing a black leather jacket over a red hoodie. I thought you were an absolute dream and would have loved to have known your name. I must have been insane not to abandon my plans and join you when you got off at Canal. Oh well. Perhaps you'll see this.
South Asian (Indian) Guy on Downtown 6 Train - w4m - 26
saw you on the 6 Downtown train today (Sunday) around 230ish. I forgot what station you got on but it was after 59th. You were South Asian/Indian, reading a packet or something, with a red hat, a black backpack and brown (tan) shoes. I was the Indian girl with the bright coat and long hair sitting down behind you. This is a shot in the dark but thought I'd see if you actually saw this-you were incredibly cute and intriguing!
On the 1 uptown or was it the 2? who knows.. - m4w - 23 (Midtown)
let's see, this was on Thursday night, I was heading uptown to visit some friends and really just spend some trivial time when I saw you across the train car. You were blonde, with freckles, and green eyes to kill for. I wanted to tell you right away (like they used to do in the old times) that I wanted to marry and have a big family with you, and travel the world and grow old, or of course at the very least grab a cup of coffee together and talk. But I was too shy, how could I have not been shy when I had the most beautiful vision for the day/week/lifetime. Anyway I'm very doubtful you'll actually get to see this; in any case, I thought I should do my part in telling the world there's such a beautiful creature walking the earth. Who was I? The tall guy with black hair and dark brown eyes, wearing a green jacket who was staring at you and trying to figure out something nice to say until you got off, the same guy who didn't have the courage to get off at your stop and follow you and tell you how I felt. PS I think it was the number one, but in my state of awe at the moment, I could have been on an airplane to China for all I cared.
To the pretty Latino I left at 167th St. - w4m - 23 (Manhattan->167th St. Bronx)
We were on the 4 heading Uptown. We were in different cars, but when I got off at 167th you saw me through the window. The train pulled away and you looked back at me and I smiled at you. You are a gorgeous latino with a plaid(?) scarf and I am a petite gringa with a blue scarf. These are the stories romantic comedies are made of...
I want some subway love
-----------------------------------
Guys, Quit Acting All Shifty on the Subway and Ask Us Out Already!
Ladies, Stop Edging Away From Us On The Subway And Ask Us Out Already!
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