She Sure is {Busy} - A New York Minute

Lately when I hang out with the friends who I've never ever, ever (what's one more for good measure?) had comment on my blog. They nudge me with their feet and say,

"Hey! Why don't you do a New York Minute at She Sure is Sketchy anymore?

At this I usually put my hand against my forehead Disney Princess style and feign ennui. We all know that is a lie though. I am always way too busy to get bored. Also, as a kid I wasn't allowed to use the word because it was treated like a curse word in my house. In the third grade when Kellen Brade declared himself as such during an epically long spelling test I was truly scandalized.

So in absolutely exciting news this week I...

• Spent a blissed out morning with Rodin at the Met's sculpture garden 
• I did some weekend antiquing with my interior designer pal who is a Pratt Grad and a Hawaii boy. Brooklyn won over Chelsea and we fell in love with Holler and Squall. With a sign like this who could blame us??
• I hopped a train to the tail end of Brooklyn
• Walked across the Brooklyn Bridge
• Spent a simply perfect late evening with a best friend and a tall Tazo Calm Tea in the only soft and cushiony chairs at the Starbux off Pacific. You know in the second grade when there is only one swing available and you beat everyone to it? If so, you know you not only get to experience the exhilarating highs of near flying, but also the trodden faces of your sworn enemies (ie. the little girls who have mothers that do not force them to wear their hair in double braids). Winning that air conditioned nook at the coffee shop was like that.
• A glorious holiday was spent basking in the glow of Coney Island
  
  
• I tried to figure out when I had purchased the sunscreen I had on hand. Was it last summer or my trip to Hawaii.
• I decided to apply it liberally and hope for the best
• I nursed a burn because I bought it after I got back from Hawaii, to preserve an amazing tan, because it was not sunscreen, but rather suntan preserving lotion that is packaged to look like sunscreen.
• I shook my fist at the sun.
• I had a late night ballerina dance party in which I rocked out to Rob Thomas while wearing my polka-dot boxers and about eight yards of pink bubble wrap. I know it, my life is bliss. There are pictures, but they are not going to be seen here.
• There was an amazing night that involved dancing in the rain on NYC's high-line
• Followed by dinner at Sausage Inc. 
• Then a deep dish dessert of Chris Hemsworth. Having never before belonged to the Church of Chris, I was shocked at how instantaneously I became a true convert. If you have not yet seen the light that is this magnificent specimen of a lightning wielding god that is this elder Hemsworth brother, you can read all about it in the words of Brittany Warnock. She *ahem*... hits the nail on the head. 
• Later in the week I took back an iron clad rule I made for myself four years ago. In 2009 I vowed to never blatently lie to a man I am dating... I have kept that promise. However, I ask you, what was I supposed to do?!?! He asked if I'd seen the Avengers yet. He made it clear that he wasn't that in to seeing it. I blinked twice and I claimed that "I'd heard it was good..."
• I saw the Avengers for the second time.
• On Saturday there was another date that involved Snow White and the Huntsman. I'm concerned that there's a running theme here... 
• I noticed that no matter the hotness of your date it is impossible to not fantasize about Chris Hemsworth at any time any physical contact is made in a week in which Chris Hemsworth is seen for any time greater than 30seconds.
• I got distracted when a cashier's hand brushed mine while returning change. It's going to be a long blonde-god fantasizing week...
• I saw Cruella Deville's much younger sister marching along Avenue of the Americas and just couldn't help but whip out my camera. I wish I'd caught her from the front, because she was awesome, but here's what I managed:
  
• I had breakfast in front of the Flatiron before I headed to work. A new tradition for sure.
• I got a major two degrees close to Rob Pattinson. An adorable co-ed was being phot-oggled by her much grandpa lover against one of the large landscaping boulders that they put in the street to create a little island of cafe tables on broadway and 5th ave. The mini mountains are there to keep you from being killed instantly  by oncoming traffic. (You will instead be hit by rough and ready shrapnel from a taxi plowing into a gigantic rock and die in the hospital five days later). However, this will be the backdrop to your demise:
  
  
  So there's that.
  I looked on as the young camera-ready girl went full on Lolita. She was more than comfortable pouring herself against a rock in a - "we-are-in-a deserted-waterfall-on-a-private-island-and-it-is-just-us-and-no-one-will-ever-see-these-pictures-because-we-love-each-other-too-much-to-betray-that-trust" way. I caught the eye of one of the only other girls eating their breakfast on the little island. We exchanged the look that goes with witnessing something that private in the middle of one of the most iconic parts of Manhattan. She giggled and rolled her eyes. Then I realized, "oh wait that girl is famous..". I was texting at the time and she reached up and put her sunglasses on and said "please don't tweet where I am? I just couldn't wear Spanx today." So I love Anna Kendrik forever and even more because she knows that girl was redonk and also that Spanx are too much.
  
• I traveled to Soho where I shook down my brother's roommate with searching questions about the renter's market in Queens.
• Then Karma got me.  I crossed the Greene, where I almost fell when the delicate strap on my last Summer's afternoon heels decided it had seen one to many cobbled stones in its life. I almost biffed it, saving myself at the last minute. Just so you know, unless you're on the last crusade and heading over the invisible land bridge with Indiana Jones, there is no worse place to fall than SoHo.
  
  It means you'll have to be smiled at. These aren't just any smiles, they are the curved and delicate lips-only half-smiles pf gorgeous amazonian women who tower over you. They would never be caught in last summer's heels.
• Speaking of which, I have spent the last three months coveting my roommate's lipstick. She has been rocking a matte shade two tones pinker than her actual mouth, leading her face to look even more carved by Renaissance masters.  
• I marched myself to Sephora and two hours and 12 tries later walked on to fifth avenue just this side of Masaccio.
• I spent a fantastic and nerdy AM in the BK-Town at PolyTech at a robot fair. It was great. Then we saw this, and it became the best thing that happened to me all week:
  
• No. I still have not learned to take videos with my camera. I have my BFA in film. Give me a Forox and you'll see that I know what the hell I'm doing, but equipped with a cell phone you'll have to make do with my apologies.
• The Duchess and I worked on planning a bachlorette party of epic proportions
• I animated more blood and guts and gore at job-job, which I love.
• I realized that I am at a time in my life where I don't really have to do anything I don't want to do if I don't feel like doing it. With that in mind:
• I began crafting this little fish sushi that I fell in love with on laughing squid's eccentric blog.

• I had a great bf/gf-how awesome are we? chat with my roommate, the other girl who rules the penthouse at 302 Court. That's our weekend thing, but it always seems to be something of note.
• I was gifted the best gift any girl can ever get by Nick, from the Cobble Hill Diner. He is selfless and wonderful and I adore him.
• I grabbed my ratty copy of A Solitary Blue and decided to kick off my Summer tradition of visiting Jeff Greene a tinsy bit early. I did it here
  
  It filled me up with light.
  
  
  There were of course a lot of other things that happened this week, but those were the highlights and my favorites. I hope the day is busy for you. Want to fill me in on your best thing? How about your worst? Maybe your funniest? Lemme know, k?

Bucket List

Wear an amazingly fantasmagorical hat to the kentucky Derby