Category Archives: new york


This post was written last Friday around 10:30 PM.

bob dylanHave you felt that moment when you look up someone you had a crush on and they have a girlfriend and live in fucking KOREA I AM SO FUCKING LONELY? What the hell and why do I ruin everything? This was in college and I had my moment and I didn’t resist the shining adventure and we had sex in my bathroom while my friend was sleeping on the couch, it was a studio apartment, I’m not really sure what you want from me, and it was New York (!) and I was young and blonde, I mean, that’s just going to happen. He wanted me, I wanted him, and then, the way things happen in New York City when you’re on your own for the first time, he became a bisexual drug addict and left school.

AND, BECAUSE HE DELETED HIS FACEBOOK ACCOUNT, I NEVER HEARD OF HIM AGAIN. Until now. Until this sad moment, when I stuffed my face with meat and cheese and chocolate and then almost did Wii fit but stopped to look up this ASSHAT on Google and now I’m sitting here in a push-up bra and sweatpants BECAUSE THAT’S HOW I WORK OUT, FUCK YOU, and I discover that he still exists, has a girlfriend, and lives in Korea. This is the same boy who once adored me. The same boy who once came into class, excited, and said, “Last night was crazy. I slept in an arm chair man,” the same boy who couldn’t afford to buy a GAP shirt so instead he went the a thrift store across the street and bought a GAP shirt from there.

FUCK YOU, DUDE. FUCK YOU FOR MOVING ON WITH YOUR LIFE AND BEING HAPPY AND MOVING TO KOREA. Even though I only remembered your existence about 20 minutes ago. How could you do this to me? How could I let you do this to me? What is this? Why am I so sad and lonely and pathetic and undesirable to those I desire? DAMN IT. WHY DO YOU LIVE IN KOREA???


cat mayor



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You’re in a new town.

empire state building nyc

Photo by me.

I am now certain that I miss New York city, though it’s sweaty as monkeys in a suitcase out here. Before I can even make it outside I’m all balmy and my hair is limp. I love this city, but jeez New York, calm your tits.

Here’s where my inner Patrick Bateman comes out: you’ll know I’ve given up on life if I move to Brooklyn. I do not adore Brooklyn. It’s far and empty and spooky at night and nothing is open and there’s no cabs. And hark, nature’s cruel joke — all of my friends, save one (love you Kelly) have moved to Brooklyn since I was last here. Which was only a year ago. All of them. Just the whole lot, off to Brooklyn. My dad lives in Manhattan. Do you not understand my unyielding pain here? I’m faced with a long subway ride or a $20 cab fare. This is debilitating and even thinking about it makes me want to place one of my childlike chubby fingers to my temple and let a single tear fall from my sweaty cheek.

I get it — Brooklyn is cheaper than Manhattan. At least that’s what you’re all telling me. Though I’m not convinced. But some of you insist that you live in Brooklyn because Brooklyn is better, which is hilarious. That’s like insisting that “Home Alone 3” is the best of all of the “Home Alone” films. Don’t insult me, comrade.

Yes, I am an asshole. I totally get that. But Oh My Kanye I hate having to haul ass to Brooklyn. You’re all worth it, I’m not saying that. But there’s nothing nearly as awesome where you live that we couldn’t do here in Real New York. Trust me, we can find your beloved independent vegan coffee guitar store here in the city. Your homemade soda shop/tattoo parlor. Your 80’s themed organic whiskey bar. We have those here too. I swear. And we have more. And we have transportation that will take you there.

Again, I’m an asshole.

And I live in Silver Lake/Los Feliz so I get it. I get wanting to live in a cool area where you can walk everywhere, where all your friends live, and where rent is cheaper than somewhere else more glamorous. I’m being a dick and a half, because where I live I can rent a one bedroom for half of what you rent in NYC for a studio. New York rent is crazy. So we all do what we can, and we’re all lucky to live in any of these places.

It’s really hot here.

I’m all not all cynical snobbery though. I’ve had some very lovely evenings in Brooklyn since I’ve been here. Very wonderful. Magical, even. Like Truman Capote shit. I love all of you BK friends. I just wished you lived closer. So, literally and figuratively, come at me.


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Living alone in LA.

Decorated by David Lynch.


I moved into my new apartment and started being a badass adult. Or maybe I’m just a bad ass. I am trying to figure this all out. There are still boxes everywhere and certain things remained unpacked and some walls are bare and it makes me anxious. And there are cords and wires everywhere from connecting various electronic necessities like Internet and television. I know, the horror. The struggle. The sleepless nights.

I don’t have a dining room table. I am okay with this. Do you have a dining room table? I don’t really dine. I eat. I haven’t started cooking yet. I keep threatening to do it, but I don’t. Do you cook? Does anyone out there lead a responsible life and can you tell me how I can do that too?

For now I am living alone and it’s good and it’s bad. I lived alone in college in NYC in a lovely little studio. I loved it, mostly. The great thing about New York is that you walk out of your building and there’s people and there’s people you know and you’re okay, everything is fine. Unless you hate people. Then you’re fucked, little sir. This is what I like about my new neighborhood. On Saturday I ran into the same guy twice. Once in the afternoon and once at night. At night it was in a restaurant (after my performance with Hello Giggles at UCB which I don’t really want to talk about because I am a perfectionist and wished I had done better. But that’s not important right now.) He was on a date and his mom was there. I think maybe it was not the best time to say hi. But I did. I am fearless. His mom and girlfriend are very nice. It’s nice when people are nice. It’s unpleasant when people are fake nice. But sometimes fake nice is better than being outright hostile.

My friend and new manager (yay!) says that my apartment is haunted. That would explain why the rent is good and why my landlord is so nice to me. I haven’t experienced any hauntings aside from when the record player started making noises like an alien spaceship in 1950s movies. I knew there was a logical explanation but I turned it off anyway.

Do you live alone and do you like it? And what does your apartment look like? Be honest with me. If it’s a mess I want to hear about every last beer can and pizza box.


This post was sponsored by U Move Free. Moving soon? UMoveFree complaints are few and far between. So, challenge accepted. Kidding.


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Please Dress Me.

almie rose bonnie and clydeThis right here is my uniform. Red lipstick, lots of black, and this Serge Gainsbourg & Jane Birkin tee when I’m not wearing a black dress.

Today I start a new job in fashion Exciting! I have no idea how I stumbled into the world of fashion (I also write for Genlux Magazine), it just kind of happened, and I love it. But I have a confession. Lately, I’ve sort of given up on my style. “I don’t know how to dress anymore,” I told my mom. Expecting her to say, “Oh of course you do,” she instead said, “Yeah you’re not really trying anymore.” Yikes. Let’s take a magical tour through my fashion history, shall we? (This post contains lots of photos so if your computer is slow, lollolol). Oh and

What is your daily uniform? What’s your favorite style, your favorite looks, your favorite fashion inspiration? And do you have any suggestions for me?

Continue reading


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Best coast?

Today I bring you a guest post on the war of the best coasts from Doniree. I’ve said a lot about LA and NYC and LA vs NYC and how I love them both and I thought why not turn this over to someone else who isn’t from either place? Not because I’m an elitist jerk (though let’s be logistical, I am) but because I want to see the shoe on the other foot or the table turned around to face the wall or whatever.


Long ago, in a Midwestern town [probably not that] far, far away, I once heard someone say [something to the effect of],

You’re either an LA person, or you’re a New York City person.

The critic in me immediately questioned this, wondering why someone couldn’t simply be *both*. Were they really that different? They’re both big, coastal, diverse, culture-rich cities, right? Why can’t you love both?

And then I actually visited LA, and then I visited New York City, and I just got it. And I know, beyond a shadow of a shred of a doubt, that I am in that right-hand, East coast column: I’m a NYC person.

I don’t hate LA

It should first be stated that by categorizing myself as a “NYC person,” I’m not saying that I dislike LA. In fact, I kind of like it. (Kind of. I think). It’s sunny. I like sunshine. I like beaches. I like fish tacos. The Pacific Ocean is cool.

However, I hate [driving in] traffic. Like, a lot. I don’t even own a car, and here in Portland, Oregon, that’s totally fine. There’s no way I’d willingly subject myself to the clusterfuck that is the L.A. freeway system on any sort of regular basis.

I’m a total pansy, I know.

However, if I had to choose one over the other, I can safely say I’d choose New York City. Here’s why:

State the Obvious: The Traffic

I like to walk, and I’m totally down with public transportation. I actually think the Subways in NYC are kind of cool. Maybe because I’m always there as a tourist or for work, and the novelty hasn’t worn off, but still. I don’t have to drive anywhere? And I can get everywhere? SIGN ME UP.

Ooh! Shiny!: NYC is Sparkly

There is something absolutely magical and mesmerizing about the NYC skyline, whether you’re looking at it or smack dab in the middle of it, at any time of day. At sunrise, it’s kind of serene and lovely. During the day, it’s busy, bustling, exciting. Even the “quiet” neighborhoods are lively. And don’t even get me started about New York City at night. Maybe it’s just because I’m a fan of all things sparkly, but I LOVE city lights and New York City just makes me feel magical.

Om Nom Nom: The FOOD

There is absolutely no shortage of amazing restaurants in NYC, and I’m not talking about the fancy ones. I like the tiny little cafes, tucked in between cheese shops and boutiques. The coffee shops and bagel shops on the corner of an old brick building.

Before you stone me for implying that the food in LA isn’t amazing, wait just a hot second. I know that’s not true. But I can’t name a single restaurant in LA that I’ve ever been to (the closest I can come to remembering places that have impressed me is that there was once an awesome patio and mimosas at some place on a hill that Nico and I had lunch at once; oh, and the food trucks). On the flip side, I’m fairly positive I can name every single place in NYC I’ve ever had a single bite. Because NYC food is memorable.

Caveat/Conclusion: More time in LA is needed

Here’s where I admit the root of my complete and utter bias preference towards New York over Los Angeles: I’ve spent waaaay more time in the Big Apple than I have the City of Angels, so one might assume I’m simply more comfortable there because it’s more familiar. And sure, that might be true.

Here’s the thing though: I know a gut feeling when I have one, and I know that something magical happens on the inside, in my heart, in my pants (where it counts), when I get to NYC, and it’s different than the feeling I get when I get to LA.

New York City feels all romantic and like a first love, whereas Los Angeles feels like that cute guy you flirted with in middle school art class: it’s fun, it’s cute, but there’s not really a spark that’ll last.

Or maybe I’m just totally and completely jealous that my Scotch-Irish skin will never be California-girl tan. And this is my way of dealing with that.

Ok, your turn. LA or NYC? And if LA, tell me why and I’m totally willing to show up with an open mind next time I’m there.

Doniree Walker is a freelance writer/blogger based in Portland, Oregon. She spends her free time frequenting Portland’s farmers’ markets, training for her first 5K, and daydreaming about the places she plans to travel. She blogs at and, and you can follow her on Twitter @doniree., and her clients include UMoveFree, a service helping renters find Rockwall, TX apartments.


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The Village & SoHo Mix.

I admit it: I’m in a New York state of mind. (Thank you, poet laureate Billy Joel.)  Please enjoy this mix. It’s titled The Village & SoHo and it’s songs that remind me of the time I spent there. Some of them may not make any sense to you, but they make sense to me. I do hope you enjoy.

Art by the incredible Emily of Phraseless. Follow her on twitter for tweets like, “Just in case you forgot, #timcurry is a god.”

Download The Village & SoHo

What songs remind you of a certain place?


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My June in NYC.
Hello everyone. I just got back from the incredible New York City. I used to live in Manhattan, I went to college there. And I really miss it. There is something freaking exceptional about apartment living in New York. I didn’t even want to leave my apartment. I could just take computer programming classes online but then I would be missing out on one of the greatest experiences one could have. The worst apartment is still magical compared to anywhere else. The cockroaches, the bathroom door that doesn’t lock, the uneven flooring – MAGIC. I had a shocking realization today that I’m poor, but before I was, I lived in a beautiful apartment building in NYC. It was on 5th avenue and 9th street, about two blocks away from Washington Square Park. It was the same building that Jane Fonda and Robert Redford living in in Barefoot In The Park, which I took screencaps of a few years ago, and have since lost. So just trust me. I wouldn’t give you any guff.

I love that movie because it’s about two beautiful people living in a “crappy” (the movie’s ideas of crappy apartments are always stunning) apartment and they’re in love and they’re struggling. They’re struggling because their building doesn’t have stairs. Because they’re poor. And in the movies, if your apartment doesn’t have an elevator and a doorman, you’re poor. Like Holly Golightly in “Breakfast At Tiffany’s.” She was a “call girl” and so she lived in a “crappy” Manhattan apartment without an elevator but with an incredibly racist “Japanese” neighbor. Whereas in “Rosemary’s Baby” you can tell that they’re rich because their building has an elevator and is basically The Dakota. I love the movies!

I think living with someone in a small apartment is the ultimate sign of love. Living in a studio apartment is a sign of love AND insanity. It’s just you, your partner, and all of your stuff, in a room. There is no escape and worse, you have to share a bathroom. That’s so much love right there. I hate sharing my bathroom. I hate sharing my stuff. True intimacy is sharing a bathroom, let me tell you, Internet. I remember reading an article where Catherine Zeta-Jones said that she and “Michael” had a great marriage because the secret was that they each had their own bathroom and I remember thinking, “How nice for you.” She also said, of their disappointment with winning a lawsuit that was $6 mil, “Six million is not a lot of money to us.” Splendid!

Do you live with your partner in an apartment? What’s your living situation like? Is there harmony most of the time or is it a secret battle that neither of you wants to admit? Do you have lots of cats? I do.


This post is a part of a series for UMoveFree, a McKinney Apartments and relocation service. All thoughts and opinions are mine, for better or worse.


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