Claim to FAME

I am going to be a movie star.  I'm serious.

Okay, I'll give you the details so you can decide exactly how seriously to take me and how excited to be (as in, should you start planning when you'll get my autograph, or should you just stop reading now?). Last Thursday, a human resources woman at work asked me if I'd be interested in being in a marketing film for our company about inclusiveness and diversity. Umm HELLO! Doesn't she know me?! Of course I would! HR Lady told me that she wasn't 100% certain they would need me for the film, but she'd submit my name and would let me know.  I spent the rest of the day in suspense, not getting any work done as I envisioned my BIG BREAK and how I would be discovered and where I would display my Oscars. So what that this was only a corporate marketing video to eventually be viewed by my own colleagues and potentially some college recruits.  This thing still had fame-potential all over it. I was all in.

As of the end of Thursday I hadn't heard back from HR Lady, so my enthusiasm lost a little steam.  Now don't be mis-led. I still made sure I looked super cute (by my standards) Friday morning so I could be ready for my close-up (see self pic below).  As soon I got to the office Friday morning I saw an email in my inbox with the subject line: "Film shoot" Alas! My new life in the spotlight was beginning!  So long to boring emails containing subject lines like "New York state tax return for review" and HELLO to glamazon correspondence! Surely this was the first of many such an email.  In my mind's eye I began seeing emails flooding my inbox with subjects of "Film rehearsal 5PM tonight - location change" and "Wardrobe meeting/script read-through schedules announced."  I digress.

The email contained the logistics of the filming, and the questions I would have to answer on camera:

1) How are you diverse and how does this help you bring a unique perspective to the table?

2) How do you feel included at work?

3) How do you make others feel included?

Basic enough. I got some input from my parents and a coworker on question #1 but the second two were pretty straightforward. Easy cheesy. Nonethleless I spent most of the day preparing for my scene...umm.. I mean interview (did I say that out loud?).  I typed up my scripted, paragraph-long responses and rehearsed them at my desk for much of the day, creepily murmuring my lines to myself.  Luckily most people were out of the office celebrating post April 15th glory (whoop! no more busy season, birtches!), so they were not subjected to my monologues.  But even if they had been there, I would not have been ashamed.  I had to be perfect.  Flawless.

Finally, 4:15PM, the designated filming time, arrived.  I went with a few other girls up to the set (a.k.a. our corporate cafeteria).  The crew was still setting up, so we were sent back to our cubicles to wait in apprehension for another 20 minutes.  I tried to distract myself by doing menial administrative tasks, but I couldn't get my mind off of my impending BIG BREAK.  20 minutes passed and the posse of future actress/accountants headed back up to the cafeteria.

The woman spearheading the operation, Shannon, told us that she just wanted one-sentence answers to each of the questions.  What?! I had prepared at least a paragraph for each, and my thoughtful answers could not be condensed to a mere few words at this last minute.  I started scrambling in my brain. A real actress could improvise and think on her feet.  But I couldn't do it. None of my answers seemed to make sense when just blurted out in one short sentence.  Maybe I wasn't cut out for this acting thing after all.

As luck would have it, some relief came.  Shannon let us know that the moderator would actually only be asking us each one question, not all three. Pheww! And she told us we could pick which question we wanted to answer.  Even better!  Now all I had to do was condense one of my paragraph-long answers down to a sentence.  I opted for the 2nd question: "How do you feel included at work?" since it seemed to be the most straight forward and easily answered in a few words.  My answer would be simple: I feel included when I am invited to events, whether it's a happy hour, a client call or an account planning meeting.  No sweat!

When my film time came, Shannon sent me and two other interviewees to the man who would be asking us the questions, and the film crew.  They set us up at a cafe table, facing each other so it looked like we were 'naturally having a conversation.'  The interviewer asked us to each introduce ourselves by stating our name and role at the Company. Then came question time.

Interviewer Man: "Jenny, if you were sitting across from your boss right now, what would you tell him he could do to help you feel more included at work?"

My brain: "No No No... That was NOT the question! The question was "how do I feel included?" not "how can I feel more included?"  Ok, think quick, Stein! .............Got it! Just flip the first few words around but use the same basic answer!"

My mouth: "I would definitely feel more included at work if I were invited to more events like happy hours, client calls and account planning meetings."

My brain: "CRAPPPPPP! I sound like a friendless alcoholic!!!!"

That definitely did not go how I planned. So, I tried to reason with the Interviewer Man: "I didn't really like my answer. Can I do it again?"  Interviewer Man: "No no, it was perfect. It was great!"  Blast!

So now, my dear readers and friends (but mostly family members who I beg to read my blog), my big break will be me, on a corporate marketing video to be to potentially be displayed in front of 152,000 employees at various events and I sound like a recluse outcast with a drinking problem.

Awesome.

J-E-T-S, Tim-Te-BOW!

"Chomp Chomp, Go Gators, Timmy Tebow, Heyyyyyyyy!" Such is the chant that echoes through my mind and spews forth from my mouth every time I think of Tim Tebow (in a Southern accent of course), thanks to boyfriend-Matt.  Tim Tebow becoming a New York Jet seems like old news at this point, so I'm a bit behind in jumping on this bandwagon.  I don't have much to add to the commentary of Tebow's Jet-setting since I'm no sports fan at all.  However, since I am a Florida grad who attended the University during some of Tebow's reign, and since I am a New York resident with a boyfriend who is one of the biggest Jet fans alive (proven by scientific studies, of course), I should probably offer up something on the topic.  So I'll come at it the only way I know best: telling you the story of my one and only encounter with this hotty for God-y. 

It was fall of 2007 when I was wrapping up my 5.5 years at the University of Florida. I was "flyering" in Turlington Plaza (best known for its crazy campus "preachers") for one of my dance group's fall showcases.  Basically this meant shamelessly distributing fliers to advertise our dance show with an unnecessary amount of uber-enthusiasm to students between classes.  Wouldn't you know that one of those hundreds of lucky students was the young Tebow?! Ever alert to celebs of any kind, I spotted Tim out of the corner of my eye.  Though I didn't (and don't) care much about football (I think I went to 5 games during my entire college career  -- blasphemy I know!), I knew that Tim was as famous as one could be in the Gator Nation, so naturally, I prepared myself to take advantage of this chance celeb-encounter. 

My adrenaline pumped wildly through my veins as I thought of how I could approach the nearing Tebow.  My breathing quickened as I stealthily peered at him through my peripheral vision.  Time was running short but Tim was drawing closer.  I had only seconds to plan my attack... err flier distribution. The moment came upon me and it happened. I lost all control, and any plan I had to remain cool and collected flew out the window.  Timmy was upon me.  I abruptly swung around to face him head-on and shouted "Come to the Floridance Fall Showcase!  It will be really good!  And you can bring canned food to donate!!" shoving the hot-pink flier at him with what felt like a crazed smile (I'm sure I didn't look as crazy as I felt -- or did I??).  My cheery abruptness caught ole Timmy boy off guard.  He stepped back a bit, and laughed.  "Ok" he said graciously, chuckling.  And that was that.  My encounter with the Tebow man himself. It ranked second only to Coach Billy Donovan once telling me I was awesome after I had unlocked a door for him to the O'Dome.  I never did see Tim at the dance showcase that night (though if you know me, you know that I was thinking something along the lines of, "Surely he thought I was beautiful and amazing and will come to the show just because of me!").  But alas, the memory remains strong.

To conclude, how do I feel about Timmy being in NYC, you ask? Well, as much as I was once annoyed by seeing every Facebook status update during my college years be about Tim Tebow (i.e., "Bow down to Tebow" and "Tebowism!"), which only got worse and expanded beyond just Florida fans when he played with the Broncos, I am actually quite happy and proud about it.  Being surrounded by Tim Tebow garb (jerseys are already out in Modell's and Champs), fans and hype makes me feel kind of at home. I suppose I am forever destined to read about Tim Tebow in the news and on Facebook updates.  But I don't too much mind anymore.  Now, don't expect me to be all in an uproar proclaiming the name of Tebow every Sunday, but deep down, I do have a soft spot for him -- even though he stood me up and didn't come to my dance show.  I will forgive, just as Tebow forgives (Matthew 6:14).

Article in April 2nd issue of "New York" magazine. Too much Tebow? Never.

Just a little something I dug up on Twitter. Gotta love support from Timmy's older brother Peter.

What do you think about Tim Tebow becoming a Jet? All thoughts welcome!

The B-List: Carlo's Bake Shop

So this was not originally on my NYC bucket-list, but not until yesterday when we ventured to Carlo's Bake Shop (a.k.a. the bakery from TLC's "Cake Boss") did I realize I had actually been wanting to visit.  I have since added it to the original Bucket List entry (is that cheating?? I don't know all the blogging rules yet).  Also, Matt had never been to Hoboken, so the trip to Frank Sinatra's home-town was a first for him as well. 

The ROUTE

Matt and I trekked from Hell's Kitchen Manhattan to Hoboken via the 9:40AM bus #126 from Port Authority on 8th Ave.  We took the bus down to 1st and Washington Street in Hoboken.  It was quite easy and only took about 15 minutes.  At that time of day the bus was pretty empty... just me, Matt, and an Indian woman who smirked to herself the entire ride while eerily staring out the window (creeps-mcgeeps!).  

The SCENE

Once we arrived in the 'Boken (or Hoboke-Shaboke, as I affectionately call it), we only had to walk about 1 block before we spotted the famous Bakery.  Well, to be more accurate, the first thing we spotted was the long line of people waiting outside. 

Fortunately, Matt had placed an order online a day in advance (baby, you so smart!), so we were able to skip the line.  As we walked up to the shop, past the line of adoring fans, and straight into the bakery, I'm not going to lie, I definitely felt like a VIP celeb surpassing the line at a hot nightclub (for more on my obsesh with celebs and famousness, refer to: We Talk to Strangers and We All Want to be on Broadway).   You know I was thinking about how the visiting tourists were jelly beans (jealous) of us walking straight into the shop, like we had the connex or something.  Anyway, I digress.

FINAL DESTINATION

When we opened the door, a young, post-pubescent Italian kid greeted us and ordered us to step inside to pick up our order.  This only further strengthened my fantasy that we were being allowed VIP entry by the bouncer into the exclusive cake-club.  Upon entering the Shop I was very surprised at how quiet and organized the store was on the inside after just coming from the chaos on the outside.  Carlos' Bake Shop looked like a regular Italian bakery inside, nothing fancy and not at all commercialized, which is what I had expected given the Cake Boss show's popularity.  And, despite the crowd of people waiting outside the shop, only about 6 or 7 customers were allowed in the shop at one time.  I also got the impression that they didn't appreciate loitering and wandering around, so I stood in our designated spot as we were instructed while we waited for the cake.  

Some pretty standard cakes. The fancier ones were on the wall behind.

We were in and out in about 5 minutes.  Overall, the calmness of the Bake Shop was a pleasant surprise.  The cake was delicious as well (we ended up getting a vanilla and chocolate combo cake, with pink fondant, decorated with a chocolate fondant bow and polka dots), though I had previously tasted the Cake Boss cakes for various birthdays (thanks to Ty, our group of friends' token Hoboken resident :)).  

If you're ever in Manhattan and have a few hours to spare to indulge your sweet-tooth and reality show-obsession, definitely visit Carlo's BakeShop.  Just get there early to avoid the line. Or if you want to feel famous like me, order something in advance online, get there a little later to ensure a long line of admiring fans, and walk in like you own the joint. Works like a charm. 

With the loot.

We Talk to Strangers

On my walk to work this morning (yes, New Yorkers walk to work -- I don't even know how to drive anymore) I was in the zone thinking hard on my to-do list, when a guy suddenly jumped in front of me. He asked me to please cross the street because a show was being filmed on the side where I was walking.  "Sure, What show?" said I.  "S*M*A*S*H" (sorry, couldn't resist the asterisks) said he. "Ooo fun!" I chimed. I crossed the street obediently and went on my merry way to work.  

Unfortunately I didn't get a glimpse of the doe-eyed Katherine McPhee (I've been told I look like her -- what do you think?), Angelica Houston or Debra Messing. But walking through the set did bring back fond memories of a uniquely New York experience I had a few years ago, which involved another film set.  Except on that earlier occasion I didn't keep walking. I ended up loitering on the set for about 2 hours talking to strangers (I'll explain shortly).  

It then dawned on me that talking to complete strangers has been kind of theme in my time in New York.  Even though my parents always taught me to not talk to strange creepers, for some reason I threw that all away when I moved to the Big A.  I began experiencing a new openness to people when I moved to Manhattan. This was just the beginning of my losing fear about a lot of things, and being more receptive to life and experiences that I would have shied away from in my earlier years.  New York does that to people. You see so many weird-looking, crazy people, that you're just not afraid anymore.  You come across so many different kinds of people, that you begin appreciating their differences because they are what make up the City.  

By the time I got to work I had recalled that first film-set experience and a bunch of other random moments when I talked to strangers. It always worked out pretty well for me, or at least made for some interesting stories.  Well, at least I think they are interesting :) You judge for yourself....  but first a few SMASHing photos of this morning's stumblings (photo credit: Matthew William Ellis):

Dressing room trailers

           

             
                  (take a peak at the show's site.. I can't wait til the premiere! http://www.nbc.com/smash/)

XOXO Gossip Girl - August 2, 2008.  This was the story I referred to earlier. It was a Friday afternoon and I was taking a casual stroll on the UES.  When I hit 75th St. and Madison Ave., I saw a bunch of lights and film equipment in the middle of the street. I asked a few spectators what was going on and they told me it was Gossip Girl.  So I got a little closer to the action where I spotted Blake Lively and Penn Badgely sitting on the steps of a ritzy town home waiting for their scene.  I got giddy by the energy of the set, and if you know me, you probably guessed that my strange obsession with famous people got the better of me.  I inched my way even closer to the heart of the activity until I got to the food table where they cater to the crew and actors. I started chatting it up with some folks who looked like they actually belonged there. First I met an old man whose limo was in the scene. He was super sweet and told me he was able to get his SAG card just by having his limo in the show.  

But apparently making pals with limo-man wasn't enough for me.  I quickly determined that if I was going to make a name for myself on the set of Gossip Girl, I would have to take more drastic measures. So, I decided to buddy up to the guys serving food at the craft services table. I don't remember exactly how it went down, but I'm sure I started asking them about how they liked working there, if the actors were nice, what their schedules were like, etc.  Then I landed the big Q:  I asked them if they needed volunteers!! Yes! I was trying to get a job (a non-paying one, at that) on the set just to be around the celebs!  

Sure enough, the guy I was talking to wasn't the one with the hiring power, so he took me down the block to meet the big guns: Peter of J&P Craft Services (they're legit - check it: http://www.imdb.com/company/co0272102/).   Peter asked me if I drive, and I said "yes". Then he pointed to a pretty large truck and asked if I could drive that in the city. Keep in mind my earlier comment about driving. "Yea, sure no problem," I said. Are you kidding me?! Am I kidding me? No, I wasn't. At that point I hadn't driven a car, much less a huge truck in Manhattan, in well over a year.  Yet I was willing to do whatever it took to be near the fames.  Peter seemed pretty pleased that I was willing to work for free and drive the big truck, so he gave me his card and told me to call him.

How did the story turn out, you ask? Well, I never called Peter. When I got home I realized I had been acting on a rush of adrenaline and starstruck-baby-cause-you-blow-my-heart-up-ness (whattup Gaga!). In reality, I probably wouldn't have enjoyed standing around and serving food without pay. But it was an experience nonetheless, that I would not have had if I hadn't talked to strangers.

Movies 101 - The scene: Bed Bath & Beyond, near Union Square, air conditioning isle. Summer of 2008, pre-move to the UES apartment. I was shopping for window unit air conditioners for my new apartment but knew absolutely nothing about them. I was pleasantly surprised when an older gentleman and his wife approached and also began surveying the air conditioners.   They looked pretty friendly so I thought I'd give it a whirl.  After all, I had no clue what I was looking at and I needed help.  "Excuse me. Do you know if this one will cool an entire living room?" "It depends on the size," the husband replied. So we got to talking and they were very helpful with the matter.  We chit-chatted about how I was new to the city, etc. "Do you like movies?" he asked. I didn't know where this was going, but I answered more with a question, "yes..(?)"  "Ah, well I teach a film class through NYU. Here's my card. Email me and I'll arrange for you to sit in on a class."  Perfect! My stalking...errr.. talking with strangers was paying off yet again! Maybe he, this one Professor Richard Brown, would realize what a fantastic personality I was, and that combined with my good looks, surely he would recommend me to his producer friends to star in their next film!

No, but seriously, if you know me at all you know that's where my mind went.  Anyway, so I went to the class one evening after work and it was actually very interesting.  I think I ended up going a total of 3 times.  I remember we watched "The Promotion," starring Seann William Scott. Seann actually came and spoke to the class for about an hour before we viewed the film.  Such a cool experience! Professor Brown offered me the opportunity to attend the class at no charge if I volunteered to collect tickets before each showing. Although I ended up only going a few times (tax busy season got in the way), it was yet another case where talking to a stranger had a great upside.  

By the way, if you like movies and hearing actors/writers/directors speak live, I totally recommend Richard Brown's class....  http://movies101.org/   

Dumpster Fire of '08 -

I figured I'd lead in with a dramatic image on this one since we've had a lot of words lately and it's time for a picture. It was the summer of 2008 (apparently this was an eventful time in my life). My sissy Meg came to visit my new walk-up apartment. I had been complaining for weeks because a construction dumpster was parked directly in front of my building which was just obnoxious.  Meghan and I had been having an awesome visit until the middle of the night when she woke me up abruptly.  I was sound asleep when Meghan flashed on my bedroom light and told me me as calmly as possible, "Jenny, you have to wake up now.  Don't worry but there's a fire outside."  Don't worry?? Immediately I thought she meant a fire in my actual apartment so I freaked out. But when I ran out into the living room I saw what she meant.  Looking out the window all I saw was an orange glow. I got closer to the window and looked down to see flames leaping up from below.  It looked like the entire building was on fire from the front of the building, which was the only way out.  There was no way we could use the fire escape because the flames were reaching pretty close to it.  My life flashed before my eyes! (ok it wasn't that dramatic, but I was definitely scared)

Meghan being the leader that she is told me to get my important things (somehow my cat and keys didn't make that list -- sorry Gilburt. RIP (don't worry - the kitty didn't die in the fire... she died  a year later)). She then led us out of the apartment into the interior hall, and knocked on everyone's door on the way out shouting "Come on people! Wake up! There's a fire!"  It was amazing.. she was so brave!  We got to the first floor and as we approached the front door, all I could see were flames outside. I was petrified. But as we got even closer, we saw that the fire was actually contained in the huge dumpster, leaving us just enough room to run out the front door. Meghan did the famous back-handed touch of the door test and told me to stay low. It was text-book fire safety. I half expected her to make me stop, drop and roll, but she didn't.

We made it out safely and hung out on the street corner where people were gathering. It was about 4AM and people were stumbling home from the bars at this point.  We waited for the firemen, and after the whole ordeal was over, we realized I had locked us out of the apartment. I called my Super who said he wouldn't be able to come let me in until 6AM.  For some reason I was wimpy back then (hadn't talked to enough strangers I guess) and I agreed to wait the whole 2 hours.  Meghan was so very mad at me for not insisting he come sooner, but we made the best of it and went to H&H Bagel, the best in the land, and fortunately open 24 hours.  We weren't hungry but we had nothing else to do so we ate the free bagels offered by the waiters.  On the walk over, we managed to scrounge up some old magazines from a trash can to read to kill the time.  

So what does this have to do with talking to strangers? Well, around 5AM a drunken young man walked by H&H.  We were sitting near the window and I guess he looked in and liked what he saw (yea we looked pretty darn good in our scrubby pajamas and unbrushed hair), so he turned around and came in. I forget his name now, but we'll call him Naveen for kicks. Naveen stumbled in and asked us if he could sit down and talk with us.  We had nothing better to do and we could use the entertainment, so we allowed him.  Naveen kept repeating the same stories over and over, and asked us if we wanted to come to his apartment.  We said yes. JUST KIDDING! We said No of course. Naveen finally left us alone, and we returned to the apartment at 6AM. 

Meghan back at H&H Bagels later in the day after the fire.  Thank you for saving me sissy!

The damage. 

Me surveying the damage. The fire burnt my tree :( The end of that story.

Free Wine @ The Four Seasons - February 2010. Ok, I will keep this one short since it's late. This story doesn't actually involve talking to strangers, but rather staring at them.  If you recall from an earlier post (http://shtnewyorkersdo.blogspot.com/2012/01/we-eat.html) my boyfriend, Matt, took me to an amazing restaurant, the Four Seasons, for our first Valentines Day. I like observing people, so I set my sights on a delightful older couple who was still so clearly in love it was beautiful.  They were sitting diagonal from us, and I just loved seeing them interact and talk quietly and drink their wine together. I guess I kept smiling at them, because near the end of our dinner, our waiter brought me and Matt two glasses of wine, indicating it was compliments of the couple I had been staring at all night.  We smiled and nodded our thanks to them and they acknowledged.  When they were finished their meal, they came up to us and told us to enjoy ourselves and that we looked lovely together.  

Although Matt's theory is that the couple gave us the wine to get me to stop staring, I am convinced they sent it to us because they sensed my appreciation for them!  

The moral of the story, you should always be open to people (using good sense of course.. don't go home with a Naveen). You never know what may come of it.  When was a time you embraced a new person or experience and it led to a unique experience?

Goodnight for now! XOXO