10 Weeks in NYC

I had the pleasure of working in NYC this summer as a content production intern at mcgarrybowen. I learned a lot about working, advertising, and living life in the real world. But who am I kidding- I'm here to keep you entertained. So here is a list of things I learned after 10 weeks in NYC, completely unrelated to my internship.

Manhattan is the actual entire island, not just the small area on the map that says "Manhattan."

You will never be deprived of falafel in NYC.

The more anxious you are in the backseat of a cab, the more likely your driver is to hit a pedestrian. (I actually created this correlation myself, but based off my stats [2 hits] I'd say it's pretty accurate.)

Not all of NYC looks like Times Square... who knew!

Kroger does not exist here & it's ok to get emotional when spending over $45 on groceries.

The more anxious you are about being in contact with a rat at the subway, the more likely a rat with the girth of a large eggplant will scurry over your feet. (Again, a correlation I invented, but can attest for...)

Walking around alone doesn't make you a creep, just a girl with a fitbit trying to reach her step goal!

If you are out for the day and need to pee more than you've ever had to pee before, chances are you won't find a bathroom.

Sometimes nothing solves your problems like a good frozen margarita.

You're literally never the weirdest person on the streets, no matter what you are doing/wearing/or holding. (And if you are... you probably wouldn't be reading my blog.)

Riding a bike, in fact, is not like riding a bike. (As in it didn't come back to me...like riding a bike.. ha.)

Scott Disick exists! I saw him! In Greenwich!

Bottomless brunch is the concept we didn't know we needed.

Money... money is a good thing to have.

JK, I Actually Attended Another Yacht Party

I'm running full speed down the west side highway in NYC. (Yes, my full speed might be your slow jog but a girl's gotta work out somehow.) A man on the side of the path reached out to grab my attention and stop me mid-run. Typically, I would never stop my run for just anyone because odds are in NYC they're asking me for money (do I not look like a poor college student?!) but this time it felt promising.

I could tell this kid was about my age. He was short, dark, and handsome (can't have it all these days) and wearing some kind of army uniform. After he greeted me I discovered he was foreign because, well, he had an accent and didn't speak English too well. He attempted to tell me about this party they were having on their boat that night, and invited me to come. (I only say attempted because it was more pointing and hand motioning than actual words.) Turns out the Italian Navy was just chillin' in NYC for a few days and brought their fancy-ass ship with some really impressive gold foiling on it.
I took the invitation and told him I would consider coming. "One more thing he told me," and he pointed to the fine print on the invitation. "Attire: Formal," it read. Or something like that.
I smiled and gestured toward the size large t-shirt I was wearing and said, "so I can't wear this?" He looked at me like I was a freak. I thought it was funny. Let's blame it on the language barrier.
So I folded the invitation, put it in my pocket, and ran off. Guess who just got invited to party on a super fancy ship? Meee! Um, yeah, I was there. Oh.. Ya. *keeps running*

So flash forward, my roommate and I show up to the pier, ready to party. We are escorted onto the boat, and are surrounded by beautiful Italian men. We looked pretty cute (I mean, we were formal.. I put on lipstick for this shit) so all the boys obviously wanted to talk to us. We had some funny conversations, and most of the guys spoke English pretty well. We drank some wine at the bar and ate some pretty dank pasta.

All in all, we had a great time, and it was even more fun knowing that I was actually invited and didn't have to worry about being kicked out the entire time (see previous story from my first Yacht party).