Semestre de primavera.

So I'm back at school. Last time I was on here, I was home, in my lovely Queen sized bed. Now I'm writing from my desk, in my pint sized dorm room. Lol of course it's not actually pint sized. It's actually larger than some other dorm rooms on this campus. But, times have quickly changed in the past two weeks. I've started my second semester as a junior. How exciting? I actually like all my classes and professors and of course my schedule is amazing without Mon/Fri classes. I cannot complain at all. One of my professors is bald with a four inch beard. He looks like he works at Best Buy's Geek squad on the side. He teaches logic. I like him. Although logic is a tricky subject, I see myself doing well in that class. I actually see myself doing well in all my classes. Hopefully this semester brings greater things than last semester did.
I went to a party on Saturday with the ladies to celebrate their birthdays. But that party was....hmm? What's the word I'm looking for? Joke perhaps? Yea joke describes the scene pretty well. Joke encompasses the venue, the attendees, the rachetry, the lack of insulation, the fact that I wore heels, the outfits, etc. It was just a sweat box. I hate parties like that. Whatever, hopefully this semester has promising events and parties that will make up for my horrid experience.
I'm looking forward to finishing off my junior year strong.

My senses.

I like things that are tangible. One of my favorite senses besides seeing is, the ability to feel. It allows me to appreciate things more and feel what's authentic and what's not. I like things. I like souvenirs that I can take out of a box and touch. While I am very grateful for the age of technology, I appreciate print newspapers. I like books. I like magazines. I like physical pictures. Those things can't be lost of a computer crashes or if electricity for some reason ceases to exist. I love the tangible. I like the feeling of feeling. Of holding, of touching. I like the feeling of having. Of having something to hold and reminisce. I save all my birthday/Christmas cards. I love them all. Especially the ones with personal written messages. I love them. I love my New York Times paper with the first family on the cover, the night Obama won the 2008 election. I love that I didn't sell it. I love that I have it, to show my kids. I need to frame it.

Just some more goodness for ya' eardrums.

Just another Manic Monday.

Happy Monday!

I had to stop in just to share some greatness with you. A couple of my lil homies from school recently started a tumblr together. It's called "Seize the Society". I already love it and they only have a few pictures of themselves up. But the photography is dope and so are they. So check them out and show your support. I don't put my stamp of approval on many things, but this one definitely gets it. I'm looking forward to seeing what they have in store for us.

Seize the Society

Boom! Looked who stepped in the room.

Hey y'all!
I hope everyone's day went/is going as splendid as mine. All I did today was lounge around, but I ain't got no complaints. Yesterday, I went Ice Skating in Bryant Park, for the first time. I know, so exciting!! I only fell once! That's a major accomplishment seeing as thought it was my first time skating lol. Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures to share. I was more focused on keeping my balance and not busting my ass in front of the hundreds of people that were on the ice last night. I had a good time though. Next time, I'll be doing figure eights, turns, leaps, and spins like a young Kristi Yamaguchi out here!

Let the Good Times Roll

On Friday, I had the pleasure of dining at Serendipity 3. So to keep in the trend of trying highly rated NYC restaurants, I went to Max Brenner with a few of my girlfriends.
Quite a contrast from Serendipity 3, to say the least. On a busy Union Square street, Max Brenner, otherwise known as Chocolate by the Bald Man, is a spacious play on Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. With decor that seeks to accomplish a chocolate wonderland, Max Brenner is filled with browns and tubes of chocolate. Upon entering this dedication to chocolate lovers on a weekend night, one will find them-self hoping to be seated immediately to keep from being pushed and shoved by the mass of people in the lobby/coffee shop also waiting to be seated. Thank God we had a reservation. Although a few of us were late, we happened to still be seated when the entire party arrived. While waiting in the lobby my friend and I couldn't help but salivate over the crepes, brownies, cakes and chocolate infused beverages in the bakery. Everything just looked so good.
Once we were finally seated, we asked our waiter his honest opinion about the dos and dont's of the menu. He definitely kept it real with us. I ended up ordering the "Really Cheesy-Really crunchy Mac & Cheese" with chicken instead of bacon. Three of the ladies ordered the "Mom's simple lemon & herb roasted chicken" and one of them skipped right to dessert, ordering the Tutti Fruity Waffle. Everything was very good. I enjoyed my meal and I had a taste of the lemon chicken thing which was also very tasty.
Surprisingly, I had room for dessert, so as a table we ordered "Tasting for two". We chose milk chocolate fondue which was extremely delicious. We had a little bit of everything to dip in the chocolate such as strawberries, fried banana, bananas, brownies and chocolate cookies. It was just enough to feed my sweet tooth. And for the city, it was reasonably priced. I would definitely go back because there are a few things on the dessert menu that I still need to try. Mhm I sure do.

The art of making happy discoveries.

Nestled in the midst of an upper east side street, with an un-impressionable exterior and a window display that lends to the hearts of young children, lies Serendipity 3. Upon receiving great feedback about this famous Manhattan eatery, from it's celebrity clientele and raving reviews, one would think that Serendipity 3 would be a tad more upscale that what it truly is. From the outside, it looks like a small mom and pop shop that happened to find its way to an expensive neighborhood. On the inside, it is reminiscent of your grandmother's apartment. Looking like a hoarders nest filled with antique lighting, trinkets and odd decor dangling from the ceiling. One would think that after all the revenue such a place like Serendipity gets, the owner would upgrade and relocate to a more spacious site. But no, it remains a quint little "coffee house boutique" tucked away between 2nd and 3rd avenues on 60th street in Manhattan.

Thank God for the city. It's the place that never sleeps. Thus, there is always something to do. Serendipity is a popular NYC spot. Celebrities dine there, it was featured on Oprah's show, and plenty of magazines have written articles about it for its famous "Frrozen Hot Chocolate". Guests reserve a table during the summer with intentions of dining there around holiday season. My sisters and I on the other hand, were not lucky enough to have a reservation. Instead, we had to leave one of our name's with the hostess, and venture off to Rockefeller Centre to visit the tree. It was either that or wait patiently for two hours, just to get a table. When we finally sat down, we took a look at the fun dichromatic menu. In black and white, it listed a world of possibilities for all those brave enough to get acquainted with their sweet side.
Since we were a party of four, we got two of the famous "Frrozen Hot Chocolate" and shared them amongst ourselves. And as if that wasn't enough, we also ordered two pieces of cake; the chocolate black out and carrot cakes. Both very good choices. I for one preferred the chocolate black out. It melted in my mouth. And it went down easily with the hot chocolate.
A great experience indeed. I couldn't keep calling myself a proud New Yorker without having visited the world famous Serendipity 3. I'd recommend it to anyone who is up for it. But of course, plan ahead and accordingly.

The first couple.

Courtesy of Theybf.com

My new specs

Courtesy of my dad. Thanks par par. Bought them from Cohen's Fashion Optical. Prada. Black and clear.

Hand it to me, wait..no.

com·fort·a·ble  

/ˈkəmfərtəbəl/

Adjective (esp. of clothes or furnishings) Providing physical ease and relaxation: "invitingly comfortable beds".

There's a difference between comfortable and ease. Because it's just easy for somebody to hand something to you. For somebody to just give something to you. There is a difference and don't contest it. Now, it may not mean nothing to y'all but understand nothing was done for me. I was raised with a roof over my head, food on the table and clothes on my back. It may not have always been the clothes that I liked or wanted, but I wasn't running the streets in the nude. I grew up in Rosedale, Queens. Not quite the suburbs until recently but it wasn't a housing project or anything. Right on the periphery of Nassau County. But it's Queens and don't you contest that. 

I'm the youngest and you know what they say about the last born. "The spoiled one." "She gets everything she wants." "The baby." But don't confuse yourselves now. Nothing was ever done for me. Nothing was ever handed to me. Maybe a pacifier when I cried and whined to get my way, but that's it. I wasn't raised in a six figure income household. I was raised in a household headed by two immigrants turned American citizens. I was raised by two of the hardest working individuals that I know. I was raised. I didn't just grow up. I was taught right from wrong. Early on, I was taught the value of independence and hard work. I was taught to fend for myself. I was taught to work for everything I get. I was raised. I didn't just pop out of my mother's womb learning how to hold the door for people behind me. I didn't just automatically know how to say "please" and "thank you". I was trained, so to speak. I learned, from my parents, the importance of apologizing when I'm wrong, and standing my ground when I'm right. I was raised.

Nothing was handed to me. I was raised comfortably because I never went hungry. I can't say that I was famished. I can't say that you could have seen my bones poking out of my chest due to lack of nourishment. I can't say that. Because my parents ensured that I had everything I needed. As for the wants, those came occasionally. They came when they saw it fit. But don't ever mistaken my parents hard work for being rich. If we're rich, we are rich with culture, discipline and love. We are not rich with man made currency. 

My parents are intelligent. I can understand how it may look from the outside looking in. I can understand people mistaking their intelligence and great money management skills for us being rich. We are the farthest from rich though. If we were rich, I would not be a student at Suny Albany. Rutgers maybe, but not Suny Albany. I value you a dollar not because I'm cheap, but because I know a dollar does not come easy. I thank God for giving me parents who didn't feel the need to splurge on unnecessary trips and assets in their prime. They have good credit, and because of that, I don't have to worry about undergraduate loans and such.

I wasn't raised with a silver spoon in my mouth. Nor was I raised with a shiny plastic credit card in my hand. People need to understand the difference between being raised comfortably and being raised without being told "no". I believe that those of us who did not have to wonder where our next meal was coming from or live in fear of a landlord giving an eviction notice, were raised comfortably. Comfortable does not come from material things. If you believe so, you have it all wrong. Material things are accessories and props that may make life a little sweeter, if you're into that. Comfortable for my parents is being able to pay out of pocket for my sisters and my college tuition. It isn't being able to push the "flyest" whips. It is in knowing that we don't have to beg, borrow and steal. It is in knowing that this house is ours and nobody is going to take it away from us. It is in knowing that we can sometimes give back to family members who don't have the pleasure of saying that they live comfortably. 

Don't tell me I'm rich in dollar bills, you'll simply sound like a fool.