Impromptu Girls Night Out

No matter how big this city is, sometimes you just run smack dab into someone you know.

Tonight, as I waited for Sarah and Heather for drinks at Worldwide Plaza - I ran into Alex and Lilly!

Our night, with the help of some margaritas, and a pedicab driver:

Yummy Kimchi

Last night, headed to Koreatown with Heather to get some real Korean cuisine. Friend Kenny had promised to take me to Koreatown... but Kenny promises a lot of things... and I wait for no man. Heather was game enough for the gastronomical adventure.

Koreatown is awesome because you feel like you're in the middle another country, but it's not overwhelming and confusing like Chinatown. At least that's my opinion. It's also about 7 blocks away from my apartment, so that's clutch.

We had really great homemade dumplings at Mandoo bar... and a lot of Korean vodka. Overall - amazing experience. It's my new favorite Koreatown restaurant, though it's my only Koreatown restaurant so far...

Rotten Egg to Eggs Benedict!

Another great thing about NYC is that you're always being impacted - affected by the diversity and behavior of people around you. Your mood is often taken by circumstances. It can lead to good days plummeting to bad ones, or vice versa - as yesterday turned out.

1) Didn't get the White House job. Didn't really expect it, but the news took the wind out of my sails a bit. After all, I'm in it to win it.

2) Had a meeting with my boss, which was about a situation over the weekend - in which I had headed up our coverage of the Missing OH Mom. Rehashing decisions you made 'in the heat of breaking news battle' is never fun... or completely clear.

3) Headed to get a blowout before a big date - and when I walked into the salon, it felt like I was hit with the heat of a thousand infernos. Yep, massive electricity outage in Manhattan yesterday. And you betcha, my salon fell within the grid. I grinned and grilled through an hour of blowout hell... where the hairdresser is slamming 110-degree heat to my hair and scalp in a room that's at least 92-degrees. I sweltered through...

4) Couldn't find a cab on way to date. Massive electricity outage also means subway issues - so everyone is taking a cab. Everyone except me.

5) When I finally made it to Madison Square Park to meet date at 6pm, I was sweating up a storm under a cloud of humidity. My hair felt more like 5 wool caps than a fancy 'do. And I definitely had a frazzled look - having just made it on time within minutes. I looked HOT.

6) After exactly 28 minutes of chit-chat - date suggested walking me out of the park before he walked the other way. Yep - 28 minutes. It was our own version of speed-dating. Except it wasn't. Except it WAS. I was a broken woman.

7) Trying to find cab to meet Alex for a drink on the UES, I can't find one (because of the lingering electricity problems). Then, like a vision, a limo pulls up and the driver says "You need a ride sweetheart?" I'm now beaming - and this becomes the BEST day ever! I get in the limo - it's a black stretch - and I don't even care if the driver was featured on America's Most Wanted Sunday night. This was my ride, and I was going to enjoy it all: the leather seats, the radio, the Air Conditioning.

8) By the time I hit Luke's on 3rd and 79th - Alex is there, typing furiously away into her Blackberry. She has a slight panic attack that a guy she used to date is at the same restaurant but then realizes it's not him. Phew. Because I would have walked up to him and poured a martini in his face for hurting my friend.

9) Over dinner, find out that Alex had the worst day ever too - yet we are somehow grateful to have pushed through our lackluster days, to an end that offered good laughs, a couple glasses of wine, and the satisfaction that we made it through another one.

Wake Up Call

Thursday morning was interesting.

Rubbed open my sleepy eyes at 9:01am. Guess what time I was supposed to be at work? You got it - 9:00am. The instant dread and subsequent crazy-get-ready-don't-forget-to-brush-teeth-oh-man-I'm-not-going-to-be-able-to-get-a-cab-realization mode is such a nightmare.. but not as nightmarish as how I greeted the day...

I woke up fully clothed - a jacket and heels still on. I also had apparently woken up at some point in the night and emptied the ENTIRE contents of my purse and put the various items in my laundry basket. I have no idea why I did this, but I do know that Vodka is responsible.

Let me take you back to Wednesday night. As you may recall, I had a date with yummy Italian. Well, on the way to date - Heather calls me from a uber-hip bar in the Meatpacking District and informs me that her financial firm has rented an outside courtyard at the Gansevoort Hotel and drinks are free. I'm also heading toward my Cannoli date in the Meatpacking District (self-awarded points for using Cannoli and Meatpacking in the same sentence!) - so I swing by to see Heather and have a quick drink to calm dating nerves. I down 2 Stoli/sodas - get an encouraging hug from Heather who's knee deep into her Martini - and head to the SoHo House.

I meet Gianclaudio outside - and we head up to the rooftop... made famous by the 'Sex and the City' episode where Samantha pretends she's a member. Anyway, Gianclaudio and I hang by the pool on a lovely night, with Fleet Week fireworks in full view - and I down 2 more Stoli/sodas. At this point in the night, it's becoming clear that my date wants to find out more about my job than about me. Awesome.

In the past, when I have dated someone in my business, it's never good. They either like the fact that I work for a news network more than they like me - or they want to find out how they can get into a news network. It's all really poor dating form - which is why I rarely date anyone in the news industry anymore. That and the constant ego-stroking if they're on-air. So Ciao Caro, Gianclaudio!

After SoHo date, I head back to meet up with Heather - who's still raiding the Martini Machine at Ono. She's now spinning like a dradle - and I'm happy to be reunited with my silly friend. Her boyfriend has joined us, mostly to protect her from embarrassing herself in front of workmates. I, however, had no boyfriend to rescue me, and embarrassed myself for the both of us - by getting into an inappropriate conversation with the chief partner of her firm. Think Bridget Jones dinner party inapproriate... and yeah - you get it...

Heather had drank about 8 martinis at this point, and her boyfriend definitely wanted some alone time with his star - so he dragged her away from the bar - but not before she slipped a drink-all-night-for-free armband on my wrist! I proceeded to drink the rest of the night with Heather's colleagues... and I'm told I kept introducing myself to the same people. I'm such a dweeb.

I also met the Director of the movie Johnny Montana. I know this only because while fishing my wallet and lipsticks out of my laundry basket - I found a business card from the Director of Johnny Montana. I googled the guy, and yep - that jogged my memory. Guy Here.

Sub-Zero

Hilarious Heather gets my sides-splittin' again. Hit the title for a hoot!

Blacksburg Troops

Sometimes I'm glad I'm not thrown into the midst of breaking news. I like being in a newsroom for the big stories, able to process stuff with a bit of perspective - and not be rushed to locate interviews, fiddle with travel, find newsmakers, and track down media handlers. Don't get me wrong, there's no better place to be for a journalist than on the scene of something truly big - but I know that I operate best from home base. For me, the field has too many changing variables.

Friend Alex is down in Blacksburg... booking for CNN, which I'm sure has a staff there the size of a college campus.

She called me the day of the shooting - about midday - saying she was heading down. She sounded a bit frazzled, as was I - called in early to work. I briefly tried to calm her stress level, before she hung up and was on a plane.

She called again today - I think just to get a brain break. She was on her cell phone, and told me she was walking to a dorm. This is what I can remember of our conversation:

Allison: "Hey, how are you holding up?"
Alex: "I'm okay - but we're kinda getting served down here on some exclusives."
Allison: "Yeah, I saw your show last night - good thing the vigil was going on at the same time."
Alex: "Yeah really. I look like a mess."
Allison: "Why?"
Alex: "They sent me down directly from CNN on Monday. I came down here without any clothes - without anything. I had to buy clothes, even underwear, at WalMart!!"
Allison: "Oh dear."
Alex: "Listen, I'm at the dorm - and I have to go and harass a student. I gotta go."

And like that - my friend continued on her dizzying, sleep-deprived journalistic journey. I don't know how long they'll keep her down there. I think most of our troops are coming back this weekend. Anyway, I find the image of her itching and miserable in shapeless WalMart clothes - romping around campus trying to book guests (and more importantly - preventing Anderson 360 and Larry King from stealing those guests) pretty hilarious. But I'm proud of her - as well as all the journalists down in Blacksburg - many of whom I bet are trying to keep themselves together around all that sadness.

Girly Date at Manly Movie

Saw Grindhouse last night, and it kinda rocked my world. Besides the usual Tarantino gore stuff - there were some great one-liners, and the "Machete" and "Don't" trailers were hilarious. Both features were solid, though I liked Death Proof a little more. Go see it - so we can talk about it!

A big you're-amazing-I'm-so-lucky-your-my-friend-gold-star-and-sticker medal to Heather for not only dragging me out and providing to-go beverages - but also having a man at the theater for me, in case I wanted to test new waters. What a gal!

Snap, Crackle, STOP!

LOUDNESS
Awoke at 5:30am - about an hour earlier than my alarm was supposed to go off this morning by one of our maintenance men scraping, and banging, and pretty much going to war with the ice outside, one floor below me. The silent sleep rage that followed involved flopping around in bed trying to throw covers and a pillow - and even my puffin coat - over my head to stop the noise. Right then and there, I vowed never to give the guy a Christmas bonus (not that I did this past holiday - but that's besides the point).
WIN WITH WEATHER
Speaking of weather, it's everywhere. Either I'm tramping through it, or hearing about it. There's a saying in the news business, especially local news: "Win With Weather!" which is really true. It's why weather is in the a-block - the first portion of a newscast - to provide the hook and tease for the c-block, where the weatherman usually does their 'extended forecast.' The audience, for the most part, predominantly watches the news for the weather anyway because it affects dress, education, work, and transportation - so it's always a safe bet to lead with weather on days like today. It's also a dream during sweeps because it's an insta-lead - can be as sensational as you want with crazy graphics and liveshots at the ol' Salt Dome. It also will usually validate buying the news station's WEATHER HUMMER (consisting of just a weather vane on the roof) which hasn't seen snow since its purchase. All around - "Win with Weather!"
VDAY
So it's Crap-entine's day, and I'm definitely feeling the solo swing in what I dub the 'Land of Downward Mood.' My friend Kenny - who hasn't dated anyone in years - even tells me he has a Valentine's blind date. What is that about?!?! I might as well finish myself off: lighting a black candle when I get home, sitting in a corner, listening to Sarah McLachlan, and journaling.
WHAT'S THIS?
So I was feeling all unloved and figuring out where I should go to get a new black candle, when an anchor walked into my edit bay and handed me a box from the mail. I notice 1-800-flowers is the sender, and suddenly I perk up. The anchor himself was so intrigued that he stayed while I opened it. He didn't really make me feel special when he added: "Hope it's not from your stalker." Thanks. Anyway, lovely suede box awaited my opening - inside, lovely truffles and an assortment of chocolate bath gels and salts. Awesome! I open the card and I immediately grin ear to ear: "Happy Valentine's Day. Chocolates are Better Than Boys! Love Heather" So very, very sweet of her. My ladies rock - best on the planet earth!

A HAIR AFFAIR

UPDATES
OUT AND ABOUT:
Last night was the ABC News Radio Christmas Party - and man, was it a hum-dinger. I had plans to hit it up, then head to roller disco at the Roxy with my gal pal Heather - but was cornered by colleagues and couldn't get away in time to hit up the skate date. So thanks to Heather's understanding, maternal quality - we rescheduled via text - and I dove headfirst into the full bar. Here's a picture of me and my new bar buddy James:

Now - pay close attention to my hair. I had it down at the night's start at the urging of my roommate and fellow ABCer Mary Ellen. But I was completely self-conscious about its curly madness - as I felt like I was either channeling CHEETARA from the Thunder Cats or trying out for MUSTAFA in the Lion King. Anyway - threw it back mid-party - and then, as you can see, it was all smiles.
PEACE TALKS:
Waiting for the Wye River peace summit with boy I was dating proved fruitless - so I sent out a diplomatic email in the spirit of being above the fray and civil. It looks as if both parties will never meet again, but I remain committed to peace in the aforementioned scenario. The situation has led my mind wander - and not knowing where the said party stands - I take comfort in the humor that are my friends on the subject. As a wise friend once wrote in a similar boy drama situation: "I wish I could sue for alimony or something... or assholimony."

THE ONE:
This brings us to the next subject of "The One." I have heard several guys say in recent weeks that former girlfriends just weren't "The Ones." What constitutes "The One"? Are these guys waiting for a woman to walk into their lives at a diner - and get a tingling sensation? I have taken up the subject with many people - and we're pretty much in agreement that men - for the most part - when they're ready to settle down - just kinda look to their left or right and whomever they're dating at the time is "The One." A girlfriend of mine said that when a guy used the "You're just not THE ONE" line after a handful of dates - she laughed in his face and wryly smirked out, "You know - The One doesn't really exist. Good luck with all that." Anyway, open to a back-and-forth debate on this issue... so fire away... especially the fellas.
PARTY CRASHERS:
Friend Julie offered up a fantastic mission - that I'm TOTALLY feeling this time of year. We all know that Manhattan is a-go with Holiday parties galore. Companies really go ALL OUT at these functions - some hosting in the 5-star hotels you or I will likely never see. Anyway, considering crashing some of these holiday parties, especially the big ones. Think it would be hilarious to greet security with "I'm not on the list? I'm Allison from Accounting, and this is Heather from Payroll." Once inside, we can mingle with random people with statements like "I haven't seen you since the LAST party - how are you?" and "How's that analysis on the Johnson account going? Did you get the spreadsheet?" Anyway, it's just in spit-balling phase at current. Will let you know what comes of all this and more...