Razo & LG in NYC!

I took Razo straight back to the apartment to dump her things, and we set off! The girl was ready to experience NYC....even if it was 8pm and she had been traveling for the past 26hrs.

First stop; Shake Shack. Razo had not eaten anything on the plane, and I knew that Shake Shack was going to become Razo's favorite food joint during her stay.

And how right I was..."Best burger and fries I have EVER had!"

We headed straight to the Rockefeller Center to see the infamous lighting of the Christmas Tree & go Ice Skating. I had never Ice Skated before and was looking so forward to it. I was a pro on the ice straight away, and Razo & I spent the most amazing first night together in NYC imaginable. I felt myself turn into a tourist for the night...and I somehow loved every minute of it!

By the way..I HATE tourists!

Day - 2, we had a little sleep in and got all rugged up for a day of shopping. We hit the shops on Fifth Ave to buy Razo a few winter essentials, and then on to Soho to continue our spending. We had a crazy day of walking and shopping, and I am still in shock at what an amazing traveller Razo is. 12 years old, and not one complaint!

We finished the night in Times Square - my least favorite part of Manhattan! But with Razo by my side, I didn't care one bit. We hit the M & M's store, the Hershey's store, Toys 'R Us, all the usual shenanigans that Times Square has to offer. And we topped it all off with a street meat, New York hot dog for dinner. YUM!

Day - 3, we became tourists. We caught the train from my Upper West Side apartment to the financial district way Downtown to see Ground Zero. I hadn't been here since my last trip 3.5 yrs ago, and I enjoyed it so much more the second time around.

We then headed for Wall Street, where Razo took SO many hilarious happy snaps.

I wanted to show Razo a good mix of tourist versus 'real' New Yorker experiences, and for that reason, I refused to catch the ferry out to see the Statue of Liberty. Instead, we continued walking to Battery Park; the best view of Ellis Island from Manhattan. She got her photo taken with the faux Statue of Liberty, and spent some time chasing squirrels.

After all that walking, we hopped on a train to Grand Central Station. We continued on to The Empire State, as I had allowed Razo to do ONE tourist thing! An hour and a half later, and line after line, we found ourselves at the top. It truly was a magnificent view!

Day - 4, was a lazy day! We were exhausted...let me rephrase that; I was exhausted!

We had a yummy brunch at Fairway Cafe, where Razo ordered the works; stack of pancakes, bacon, eggs, has browns, milkshake. The works! Next was a visit to the Natural History Museum, which was amazing! So much fun, and once again, Razo enjoyed racing around the museum posing in photo after photo.

We ended the night back on Broadway, watching Marry Poppins. Such a fantastic end to the night. We had hoped to get in to an amazing cafe called 'Serendipity' for old fashioned deserts after, however I had not anticipated how popular the cafe really was. We arrived at 11pm on Sunday night, and the wait was going to be over an hour. So we settled for 'Insomnia Cookies' on the way home instead.

Day - 5, the day I had been dreading. Razo was flying home today. We had been anticipating snow all week, and until yesterday, the weather man had promised snow for her final day in NY. Razo was super excited, as she has never seen snow before.

Unfortunately, there was NO snow! We spent the day getting lost in Central Park, and finished an amazing five days exploring Manhattan with Ice Skating in the park. This time we were not such pro's, and when Razo asked to hold my hand around the rink, she slid forward penguin style while I remained holding her hand and dragging her body at least 10 meters along the ice before I crashed and fell alongside her. We were laughing so hard that Razo couldn't stay on her two feet for the next 5 times around the rink.

It was an absolute bittersweet end to our trip. But it was amazing. Razo has decided she is moving to NY as soon as she finishes school!

YAY!!!

Razo Arrives In NYC

Thursday 9th December, 2010 was a bitter sweet day for me. A day I had both been looking forward to, and a day I was hoping would not come by so soon.

The exciting news first - my littlest sister Rachel (aka - Razo) was flying in to visit me in NY for five days. Beyond excited!

The bad news - my NYC partner in crime Eloise was flying back to Oz. On the same flight that was bringing Razo in, believe it or not!

Eloise & I had planned a BIG final morning in the city. We met at Soul Cycle at 9am for a spin class; no better way to start off your morning, believe me.

After class, we took our hideously sweaty selves, and went our separate ways; me to Bed, Bath & Beyond to make my apartment a little more livable for Razo's visit. And Eloise, back home to pack!

Of course, as everything seems to happen in my life at the moment, I was running a tad late to meet Eloise so we could share a taxi to JFK. Once realizing that the first ten cab's I hailed down refused to drive all the way to JFK, I began thinking we had left our departure a tad late!

We finally managed to bribe a driver to pay in cash & he was happy :)

Half way to JFK I received a phone call from Mum asking if I had arrived at the airport, if Razo's flight was on time, if she was off the plane yet - a million questions! Somehow I thought we had more time up our sleeves than we actually did. I thought it was well over an hour and a half until she landed, but alas, it was half an hour. My bad!

We both jumped out of the cab and raced to the line. Luckily we were THAT late, that there was no one else in the check-in line & we went straight to the desk. Eloise checked in quickly & to my amazing luck, I didn't have to go through customs and all the way to the gate as I had expected. (Razo travelled as an unaccompanied minor) I just had to wait for her to be brought out to me! Phew!

Eloise & I said our bittersweet goodbyes and she was off.

Half an hour later, Eloise called me to say she just spotted a little LG look alike coming off the plane, and I knew she was not far away!

With a spare puffer jacket in hand, I eagerly awaited her jumping out in front of me...instead she surprised me from behind, and her cute little Aussie accent made me jump and nearly brought me to tears.

Best arrival EVER!

Elle.com

http://www.elle.com/Fashion/Street-Chic/Shop-Girls/(imageIndex)/13/(play)/false

This is what it's about ladies & gentleman......

LG in NYC.....

Gumby's 21st & all alone in NYC

It was the night of Gumby's; aka Mathew's (# 4 of 8 children) 21st birthday party, and as I was unable to get time off work to come home, I was stuck in NYC attempting to join in on the party at 6am my time.

They had set up the big screen so Dad and me could Skype through our speeches. As it was so early in the morning in New York, I had asked my sisters to give me a wake-up call 15 minutes before the speeches were to begin; enough time to do my hair & throw on some make-up.

The wake-up call came, and I jumped out of bed and got myself ready for the big speech, which I must admit, I had not given any real thought to just yet. As I was staying at Matt's place, and was attempting not to wake him up, I decided to go out in the corridor for my Skype call. And just to be extra considerate of the paper thin walls of the apartment building, I walked down the stairs to the small foyer on the first level.

With my laptop in hand, and earphones in ear, I was not thinking straight when I walked out of the security door. As it locked behind me, I remembered I had left my keys in the apartment and was now locked out of the building.

It was 6am, I was wearing very minimal clothing for the below 10 degree weather outside, and the draft was coming in through the door. I didn't want to buzz myself in and wake Matt up, so I decided to wait it out in the hope someone would eventually come through the door and let me back in to the building. Besides, I had a Skype date to attend!

I slumped myself down against the wall, and propped my laptop up on my lap. Within seconds I received a phone call saying the Skype wasn't working properly, and they wouldn't be able to hear us talk. I was shattered!

They were able to set us up on a conference call between the party, Dad & myself so we could at least hear the speeches. This was probably the worst idea ever. About three minutes in to the first speech I burst in to tears. The first lot of tears to escape me in the five months since I had left home. And once the flood gates opened, they wouldn't shut close.

45 minutes later, a man walked out of his apartment to walk his dog, and there I was, still blubbering.

His dog pounced on my laptop, as I attempted to wipe away the tears. I held the door as he exited, and I crawled inside the building to continue my sobbing.

Dad could hear me crying the entire time.

It was a sad, sad morning. But oh so funny looking back and picturing myself blubbering the way I did in a foyer in NYC at 6am in the morning.

Memories forever!

Best steak in NYC....& in a grocery store!

It was "date night". And Matt (a new man in my life) had been waiting long enough into the relationship to take me to this particular spot. He had mentioned how amazing the food was, but I guess it isn't the type of place you'd take a girl to impress her on a first, second or third date. (His words, not mine).

We walked the few blocks from 79th & Columbus to 75th and Broadway, where we stopped out the front of Fairway Market, a very well known grocery store. I stopped for a second, a tad confused as to where we were meant to be eating dinner, and as he noticed my hesitation, he grabbed my hand and lead me in the direction of the narrow side stairs up to the second level of the grocery store. There we came to a small restaurant in the corner of the shopping aisles.

It was not by any means a glamourous hang out, but from beginning to end, the service was amazing, and the food...well there are just no words to describe the food!

With a view of the kitchen, the cereal aisle, and tables filled with a variety of different characters, we both felt as if we'd found 'our' new favourite spot. And we have!

I started with the most amazing salad; lettuce, drizzled in aged balsamic vinegar, the most incredible enormously toasted crouton, with a huge slab of camembert cheese melting on the top of it. So simple; but to die for.

I followed with the most exquisitely cooked, medium rare, filet steak with bearnaise sauce. It melted in my mouth unlike any other steak ever had. And I am very well known as a steak snob of sorts.

Matt's meals were just as amazing.

We then both shared the Tarte Tatin (my favourite) and an amazing chocolate mousse slice. OUT OF THIS WORLD!

Never in my wildest dreams would I think to find the best meal in NYC in the corner of a grocery store. But then again...it is New York...and you never do know!

A cat, some Ivy, a pink wig, a rooftop, some hotel rooms, Greygoose...did someone say HALLOWEEN???

The night began much like any other night in NYC...I finished up at work at 8pm & hurried to the train station to get uptown and transform myself into a HOT HALLOWEEN CAT.

Eloise joined me so we could get ready together & polish of our usual bottle of Oyster Bay...yes my local bottle-o stocks Oyster Bay, and I have already told the owner he may need to order another batch ;)

After we got ready, into a yellow cab we hopped. It was absolutely FREEZING in our itty bitty costumes, and there was no way we were catching the train!

Our night began at a house party in the Village, and as soon as Clare met us, we headed to Soho House on a friends membership.

Me as Sexy Cat Woman, Eloise as Poison Ivy, and Clare as a white Nicki Minaj! (I am yet to learn her identity)

We decided to start on the rooftop where the Carnivale party was happening. After sussing it out and the drinks line taking way too long for our liking, we headed down the fire stairs to the next level....MARDI GRAS!!! Once again too many people, and no hope of getting any drinks fast enough. So we went down one more level until we hit the hotel rooms. People were standing in the corridors inviting us in to their rooms. When in New York right? It was absolutely hilarious.

As we entered the first room we found copious unopened bottles of Greygoose...how on earth they knew my drink of choice, I will never know! The atmosphere here was strange so we tried another room around the corner. And this is where the shenanigans happened; Eloise found herself a Poison Ivy twin, Clare ran straight to the bathroom for a photo shoot with randoms to send to her man, and I was obsessed with a Joker! Such a hilarious random moment!

Once we were done, we attempted to exit the fire stairs that were now completely jammed...that was until someone pulled the fire alarm! HAHA!!! Out and free at last!

Once finally out on the street Clare proclaimed with one hand out 'attempting' to hail a taxi that "I refuse to go home just yet." With a slight roll of the eyes from an already 'over it' Eloise and myself, we marched on through the Meatpacking to find a taxi. Toughest challenge of our lives!

The remainder of the night was spent catching cars uptown, and then downtown, running in bare feet on Fifth Ave, and having a faux relationship with Eloise to get the boys off of her.

All in all....AMAZING HALLOWEEN!

Happy Halloween

Last Saturday was the day/night I had been looking forward to for some time now. Well at least people had been telling me I was excited about. Unfortunately the lead up to the day was turned upside down, and my excitement turned into absolute stress!

HALLOWEEN WEEKEND...My very 1st Halloween in NYC...And I without costume!

Working seven days a week had certainly made getting my costume a challenging task. But with Eloise & myself both costume-less, we utilised every last second of my one hour lunch break to ram-sack American Apparel, H & M & Ricky's.

At last, we both had success!

We met up to get ready together later that night, and I'm sure you'll all agree we both looked AMAZING!!!

Stay tuned for the events of the night....coming soon ;)

Up the Mighty Dragons....

As you all know.....The Mighty Mighty Dragons played a phenomenal 80 minutes a few wks ago now. Although I may not have been at the game...I was at 'THE' game!

I rallied up my New York buddies, and to the 'The Australian' we went!

Being the ONLY Australian bar in Manhattan showing the game, it was no surprise that I bumped in to many Australians I have met in New York over the months, as well as a few ex-pat Sydney friends. Bec (a bestie from Sydney) was visiting at the time, so she joined in. However we did not expect one of our school mates to walk through the door minutes after us. And then find out that he had been living in New York for the past month. CRAZINESS!!!

I had SO much fun conversing with the family back & forth as the game was happening LIVE! I think I actually got to see more of it than them however, even though they had the amazing seats!

I made many many new Dragons friends that night, and I don't think I could have had a better Dragons Grand Final win...even if I were in Sydney!

Amazing NYC moment......once again!

I stupidly promised one of the boys I had dragged along to watch the game that if he came to watch the Australian game, I'd get up early the next morning to watch his Seattle American football game! Big mistake, seeing it was my first day off in over a month (no joke), and I was taking advantage of a guaranteed sleep-in...therefore meaning we didn't get home until 7am that morning!

As he jumped out of bed the next morning asking who was coming to the game, in true Australian style, I was the only one who braved the two hours of sleep to roll out of bed and fulfill the promise I had made the night before!

In all of my adrenaline pumped up from the night before I managed to sit at the bar asking for one water after the next as I watched one...two...three...four...five...YES...five games of American football the next day!

Amazing weekend of footy from every corner of the globe!

SNL After Party

The season premier of Saturday Night Live was a couple of weeks ago. Lucky me, I was on the guest list for the after party with a male companion of mine.

We arrived at a culdesac street that had been blocked off especially for the event. As we approached the venue, we were informed that it was a restaurant that hadn’t even opened yet. Guests were dressed in everything from jeans to full-length sequined gowns. We were dressed at a nice medium. I wore Willow head to toe, and my companion rocked his ankle boots and leather.

We knew that Katy Perry was hosting the event, and were super excited at the possibility of rubbing shoulders with her. However we didn’t expect the reality of what actually happened.

Not knowing anyone else at the party, we became friends with a group of people within minutes of receiving our first round of drinks. We got talking and found that one of the girls is in the new movie ‘Social Network’. That was cool, however I had no idea who she was, and didn’t really think much of it.

About ten minutes after meeting them, my male companion informed me that Justin Timberlake was sitting about ten metres to my left. As his back was to me, and the party was so informal, I chose to snub the comment off, and didn’t believe him for even a second.

That was until JT hopped up out of his chair, and walked straight in to our conversation. He kissed his co-star from ‘Social Network’ on the cheek, and went on to shake everyone else’s hand in the group.

“Hi, I’m Justin.”

NOOOOOOO……..Really!!! Absolute classic.

I then went on to have a one-on-one conversation with him. He heard my accent and immediately wanted to know what bought me New York, why I left Australia, what I do for work…and it went on.

The level of respect I have for Justin after that conversation went through the roof. I honestly didn’t believe it was him, he was that down to earth.

As my companion and I decided we’d had enough of the party, we went to make a quick pit stop via the loo and bumped in to a very familiar face in the corridor.

“Katy!”

Oh my god….we had literally bumped straight into Katy Perry, all on our way to the bathroom. Once again, such a casual introduction, “hi, I’m Katy”. We were both loving it! She was too cute in her floor length, fully sequined gown, and her hair was amazing!

Oh what a night!!!

An Australian Minute in NYC

I was at work a couple of weeks ago enjoying another monotonous day, when I noticed a few heads turn the corner. Jet black hair, over-sized bow headband on head, ruby red lips, black tutu skirt and white glowing skin. As she turned around, I noticed a familiar face. Instantly I thought of Alannah Hill. My only doubt was, she looked about half the size I thought she was.

I continued to follow her, and then offered to put some dresses she was holding in the fitting room. On hearing her open her mouth, my doubt had been turned around. She had a VERY Australian accent and had picked up a dress much too big for her. She was going by Australian dress sizes, and not US.

A moment later, she walked back to the front of the store, where a hell of a lot of commotion and noise started coming from around the corner. I looked around, and low and behold, a small Australian celebrity crew had gathered near the entrance to the store.

Alannah Hill and Master Chef's George Calombaris were standing with their possy's, causing much havoc among other customers. Customers were staring at the loud Australian voices, and the girls I work with were staring in wonderment also. They could tell they were somebody, but had NO idea who the hell they were.

I was excited of course!

Another one of my customers who was visiting New York from Singapore asked me what all of the commotion was about. When I told her it was Alannah Hill, she nearly dropped to the ground. As a huge fan, I took it upon myself to later introduce the two parties. The Singapore customer was so cute, and Alannah was the sweetest to her.

Once the commotion was over, and George realised he had stumbled in to a girls store instead of a man's store, I helped Alannah with a few dresses. She bought up big, and we had a fantastic little chat.

Sweetest, most down to earth, cutest person. I loved every minute of it. She loved every minute of it. It was a cute little NYC moment all around!

Knife fight

After what had been a truly tame night, (well as far as my nights go) something crazy happened.

I had been at Eloise's apartment; actually she was homeless for the week and sleeping on the couch. But all the same, it was Eloise's humble abode on this particular evening. I had made the executive decision to be a good girl and get an early night, with only a small amount of alcohol involved. I took this challenge on board very seriously, and with Eloise by my side, we successfully achieved a mere two glasses of wine, and I was home by 1am.

The night was so much more entertaining without all the alcohol anyway. I rather enjoyed sitting, watching the other ten people in the room get drunk and high. It was one of the funniest experiences I have had yet.

As my curfew approached, I was off. And believe me, leaving the apartment and saying my goodbye's was not such an easy task. Well with the state of the people I was saying goodbye to. In fact, they put me a little behind my curfew by the time I was "allowed" to leave.

Eloise ever so kindly offered to walk me to the station to ensure my safety. However, I made her aware that then that would put her safety at risk when she walked back home alone. Great thinking 99!

As I approached the L station on 1st Ave I heard commotion a little ahead of me. Pretending I was oblivious to the whole thing, I continued on my path and walked straight in to what turned out to be a knife fight. Well let me rephrase; not a fight as yet, but an extremely drunk and drugged up girl pulling a knife on her boyfriend, a dog, and some homeless people.

I was standing five metres to her side. My heart was jumping out of my skin, and still I continued to act as if everything was fine. As soon as I took the corner of the metro steps, I was away. It was one of those moments where I envisioned myself falling down the metro stairs, and then it seemed forever trying to find my metro card. And of course, when I finally found it, the damn thing wouldn't swipe.

But I am OK! Not even shaken up in fact. It was an odd end to my night. I mean, a knife was pulled right in front of me. But I think I did good!

Intern, High Heels, NYC = Disaster

I didn't make it home last night. I had been out, and it seemed easier at the time to just stay at a friends place.

Upon waking up with not enough time to return home to change, and with becoming a pro at packing for the next day in my evening bag; spare undies, deodorant, perfume, make-up, toothbrush, I was on my way to work.

Of course today was an intern day however, and this could potentially mean walking kilometres through the streets of Manhattan, from Soho to Midtown, up to Times Square and back down to Soho again. Potentially carrying heavy boxes, garment bags or anything else heavy and awkward. Of course, I wore heels out last night too, which meant I'd be wearing heels all day to work.

Big mistake!!!

Of course today was the day that everyone called on me to run across Manhattan. The entire day was a disaster. I was sent to three incorrect locations. I was given one incorrect package, and had to then go back to get the correct package an hour later. I dropped three garment bags over the ticket gate while attempting to juggle them as I got my metro card out of my wallet. And I literally spent my day going from the North to the South of Manhattan the entire day. My feet didn't hurt so much from the blisters that had formed and become permanent fixtures on my feet, but more the balls of my feet felt like they were on fire, burning through the soles of my feet and into the ground. I may as well have been walking on hot coals, straight out of an Arabian film.

I had been silently managing my disastrous fashion faux pas all day, when at around 5pm I couldn't handle it any longer. Armed with hangers, and garment bags flung across my body, as I was walking through Times Square I saw a huge flashing neon light, 'Sale Shoes $10'. In I went and bought myself the best pair of gladiators $10 could buy.

My feet had been through so much pain that day, I still felt as though I had my uncomfortable high heels on. The pain had got to the point where it wouldn't leave, even if I were walking through Times Square in my Ugg boots.

Lesson learnt; my havaianas are the newest edition to my going out evening bag packing regime!

The week that was...

Sunday 22nd Aug

Started my new retail job. Worked 10-8pm on 2hrs sleep!

Monday 23rd Aug

Started my new internship. Turned up at 9am to find out they don't open until 9.30. Thank God, because I really did needed a large, double-shot iced skim latte. Worked through until 8pm. BIG, LONG, DAY and the weekend that was, had caught up with me in a BIG way.

Tuesday 24th Aug

2nd day of interning. Once again, 9.30-8pm and no lunch! Ridiculous. So tired. But, when my new bestie Monica texted me to pop over to have drinks at her place at 11pm, I was up and out of bed, on on my way to the LES (Lower East Side). I arrived, and drinks at her place turned into, "we're going out!" We're going out turned into 5am walk back through the front door and passing out on her couch.

Wednesday 25th Aug

Working at my third job; another retail job working in an Australian boutique. Luckily the day was quiet, and I was able to sit at the desk all day staring in to thin air. 12-8pm shift! It was tough. I had friends attempting to get me out again tonight, but wisely I opted to stay in.

Thursday 26th Aug

Worked from 10-8pm again. Still running on some strange form of natural high. Lorien (a tough relationship to put in to words; so I won't) was in town with a couple of friends from Australia, and tonight was the night I had to show her how we did it in NYC! I met up with a friend at a bar for drinks straight after work. We met some gorgeous men (and some not so gorgeous men) and drank some beautiful drinks (mainly bought up by the not so gorgeous men). The night ended with three bars, one hotel, and five clubs. We sure showed the Aussie girls how we do it in NYC! Walked through my front door at 6am.

Friday 27th Aug

Work 11-8pm. Thank goodness I made it home to my own bed last night, and not my friends couch again. It was nice to have the extra hour sleep too.

Got home from work, and had a call from Monica saying I needed to get dressed up & in to Manhattan stat! We were invited to a VIP event for the US Open. Yummy yummy boys! Unfortunately I was too slow getting ready, and by the time I was on my way, Monica had called to say that we were meant to arrive half an hour ago in order to get in. But, we were all dressed up and hungry, hungry, hungry. To The Standard Hotel we went. A nice relaxed night, and home before 12am!

Saturday 28th Aug

Work 10-7pm. Finally I went to went to work on a full 8hrs of sleep, and it really did make all the difference. All refreshed, I was ready to hit the town one last time for the week. Sadly for me, this was the worst night yet. We started with drinks at a friends house. Then on to a few clubs. The night ended back at another friends place at around 4.30am. He ordered way too many burgers, fries and wings, and we all (all fifteen of us) sat around watching bad TV until 7.30am, at which time Monica and myself hopped in a cab, homeward bound. I started work at 10am, so barely had time for a 15min power nap, a long, hot shower, and on to work I went!

The week that was...and never will be again...65hrs of work...28hrs sleep (28hrs too little)...28+hrs of partying...and this is what they call New York, New York!

Aussie Aussie Aussie...

I have too much to say about the past week...too, too much!

I started my new job this week. Working in retail in New York has to be the funniest experience. Attempting to help customers when they can't understand my twang is absolutely priceless. Customer's walk in the door and I naturally greet them, "hi, how are you going?" They stop and look at me as if I'm stupid. One girl said, "you're from Australia, aren't you?" "Yes I am." She had just returned from Australia and went on to tell me how strange it is that we say that instead of "how are you doing?" After mulling it over, why on earth do we say going? It makes no sense what so ever. But, at least I'm not asking, "how y'all doin?"

This week has also been the week of meeting 'Southies'. I met a couple from Blakehurst, a bar tender from Oatley, two girlfriends from Oatley, and a guy in a club from Jannali. And that was just from my corner of the globe. I won't even get started on the handfuls of Eastern Suburbs people i've met this week. Every one of them I met had mutual friends I knew too. Such a small world.

I also started a new internship this week, and boy has it been a fantastic learning curve in the American language. You think that moving to another English speaking country means that there will be no barriers. How I was wrong! Today I asked a girl where the powerpoint was. The entire office stopped and stared at me, dazed & confused. "What did you just say Laura?" "Ok. So I guess you don't call it a powerpoint then?" After attempting to describe what I was looking for, I found that it was called a socket! "Ok, so then where's the socket?" But still they stopped and stared. All they heard was "where's the suck-it!" Hilarious!

As much as I hate to admit it fellow Aussies, I have been trying my hardest to change any language barriers over here. My Aussie friends in NY keep paying me out, and pulling me up on many words; ketchup (tomato sauce); cell (mobile); socket aka suck-it (powerpoint); sprite (lemonade); and the list goes on. These are all now part of my natural New Yorker vocab. Sorry Mom (Mum)!

As far as the rest of my week goes, I am going to attempt to sum it all up as briefly as possible for you! Just so you can understand the sheer craziness of it...but too much to say right now!

You will have to wait until the next entry...

Officially New Yorkers...

There's a certain gratification that comes with giving people directions in New York. It's a crazy big place, and when you get to the point of knowing your Houston from your Mott, and your Fifth Ave from your Broadway, it's simply an exciting time in the 'becoming a New Yorker' process.

More and more frequently I'm finding that I am able to successfully offer people directions. And it feels great! For weeks I wouldn't even give people the chance to ask for directions. I would cut them off mid sentence with the ever so quick response "I'm not from here". I did however feel very proud at the fact that so people thought I looked like a local enough to ask for directions. I am asked at least three times a day, every day.

But on Saturday the 21st August 2010, at approximately 10pm, Eloise Kate Andrews and Laura Anne Gammel were officially deemed New Yorkers!!! We feel like we've come home, and couldn't imagine being anywhere else. At least for the time being!

Sorry family and friends back home, but the inevitable has happened...I have fallen head over heels in love...with the most amazing, exciting, unreal dot on the globe...NEW YORK, NEW YORK!

My new place...

After 7 weeks living out of my suitcases, moving from friends of friends' rooms, to housesitting, to a sublet, I am finally home!

I am residing in Williamsburg, Brooklyn and absolutely love it. I have a door man...well five actually, & they are so lovely holding doors open for me, holding the lift, asking how my day is, wishing me a good night and all that jazz. Love it!

I am living in a gorgeous new apartment, as you can see in the pics above, and I even have a gym on the huge rooftop. It's fully equipped with outdoor setting and a BBQ, which is about to be used and abused as the Summer comes to an end.

Hope you all love it as much as I do!

08/17/2010 Part: 2

"West 13th & 9th please. And hurry. We are SO late!"

As we arrived at our destination in the Meat Packing District, both Lense and myself reached in to our bags for our wallets. "Shit! I left my wallet back at your place." Not only were all my cards & cash in my wallet, but I didn't even have my ID on me. Lense then went to pay when she realised she bought her cancelled debit card, instead of her new debit card! GREAT! We were sitting in a cab with absolutely no cash, no cards (that worked anyway) and were running very, very late, with a promoter waiting outside the club for us to arrive.

The only thing that could be done was to turn around and go back to the apartment, to pick up my wallet & Lense's working debit card.

We got to the apartment and while I sat in the cab waiting, Lense ran up the six horrid flights of stairs to her apartment. She came back down five minutes later empty handed. "I don't have the key remember...we are locked out until the others get home and our things are locked inside." She whispered this to me while sliding back in to the cab, not wanting the cabbie to hear that we had no $$$. Meanwhile he had already started in the direction of the club to take us back again.

Lense was on the phone trying to get a hold of her roomies, however we couldn't figure out where we could meet them to get money and the keys. Racking our brains, while driving aimlessly back and forth around the LES of Manhattan, we had a thought; Eloise!

We called Eloise as she lives right by Lense, and asked if we could swing by her place to borrow some money to pay the driver. Poor thing was in bed already and I felt so bad. It was 11.30pm on a Tuesday night after all. We went up to her apartment and sat on her lounge (couch) trying to make some sort of a plan. We were stranded, with no money, no keys to Lense's apartment, and a guy waiting for us to arrive at a kick-arse event at Kiss & Fly.

Finally Lense decided enough was enough. "Let's just go to the club.! Eloise can we borrow some money, and possibly your ID for Laura?"

Eloise had exactly $28.50 in cash on her. And with that, and her ID, we were off. The taxi was approximately $10 each way, so we had about $8 up our sleeves to last the night between us. Thank goodness for New York and promoters who buy you drinks!

Wally, who is a huge rapper in the States, (he has a song with Lady Gaga) was the headliner for the night. We arrived at the club (take-two) and the Countess from the reality show Housewives of New York walked by. She posed on the red carpet while the pap's went crazy.

Cover charge was $30 for most, however entry when you're with a promoter is always free. Because of the high volume of the event and because we got in so late, we had to pay $5 to get in. There went our spare $8, plus part of our cab fare home.

This club was OUT OF CONTROL. Absolutely INSANE!!!

Lense and me were up dancing when she realised Wally was sitting at the table next to us. CRAZY. We had the best seats in the house, and even when he got up to sing (the whole two songs), we were the closest people to him in the club.

Super crazy, up & down night, but what else would you expect.....it's NYC baby!!!

08/17/2010 Part: 1

My day yesterday.......WOW!

It began signing contracts and paper work for my new job. Don't get too excited; just retail! But little was I expecting to be held hostage for four hours! What I had thought was just signing on the dotted line, turned in to an hour of signing dotted lines, followed by three hours of computer training! Worst NY experience yet!

After finally getting away from work, I had to get uptown to Grand Central to vote! So exciting. I arrived at the Australian Consulate and it was "yeah mate" in one corner, and "you betcha" in the other corner. I don't know if it's because I'm surrounded by American accents day in & day out, but everyone at the Consulate sounded beyond bogan. After a few Aussie laughs and a VERY casual voting process, I was all done in under five minutes, and I walked out of the Consulate on an unusually strange high! Never in my life have I felt so excited after voting, but I think being on Aussie soil for a brief moment excited the heck out of me.

I continued back down to Chelsea, where I needed to get some money out. I stopped in at a Chase bank ATM, and noticed one of the teller's watching my every move from over my shoulder. On pulling my money out of the ATM she ran over and ripped the receipt out the ATM, congratulating me on winning $125 in a promotion they were running. I was lead through the bank with everyone working at Chase congratulating me as I was walked through. It felt like my name had been called out on The Price Is Right, and I was running up on to the stage getting hi-five's left, right and centre.

An hour later, and I was signed up with Chase bank and have a debit card on its way to me. Go figure. At least it has $125 loaded onto it.

Next task for the day was a trip to Bed, Bathroom & Beyond. I finally moved into my official permanent residence over the weekend, and needed a few essentials; pillows, rubbish bin, brita water jug, coat hangers, wall mirror.....and the list goes on. Long story short, I had to lug my new, large purchases all the way back home on the metro during peak hour. I looked like Santa Clause with my BIG shopping sack flung over my shoulder.

After a crazy long day I hit the shower and put on my pj's as soon as I arrived home. It was 10pm and I was sitting chatting to a friend online, when I found out about a huge event in the Meat Packing District.

To be continued....

Go Go Chicago...

On telling many of my NY friends about my trip to Chicago, they had replied with remarks like, “what a dive”, “why on earth would you want to visit Chicago?” In my defence at the obviously bad choice of city I was about to visit, I constantly heard myself saying “I’m only going for Lollapalooza, not to go go to Chicago.”

Since returning to NY, and to my absolute surprise, people who have asked how Lollapalooza was have only heard 3 words out of me; “I love Chicago”.

I really do. Although Lollapalooza cannot be summed up in a string a logical words, and it was insanely A.M.A.Z.I.N.G, so too was Chicago.

I found myself so mesmerized by the layout of Downtown Chicago, and to date, it is certainly the US city I have been most taken by (bar NY of course). It is beautiful. Laid out along a peaceful lake, with bridges every few streets, skyscrapers forming beautiful lines, both along the lake and weaving in and out of the main streets. And the group of about twenty kayakers that we saw coming out from under a bridge at midnight one night was an especially memorable moment.

Lollapalooza itself was the first multi-day festival I have been to. Although I may be a bit of a festival-whore back in Oz, this was my first International, and the whole thing excited the crap out of me!

The first thing that shocked me were the crowds. They were so calm and collected. Not even so much as swaying side to side for most acts on day 1. Crowds in Oz are OUT-OF-CONTROL. I don’t think I realised how out of control they are until comparing them to that of Lollapalooza. Perhaps it's because the drug of choice in Oz is ecstasy and alcohol, opposed to Lollapalooza's choice of marijuana. It was everywhere. You were high even if you weren't smoking it.

Some of the craziest moments actually came from the Australian & UK sets of Mumford & Sons and the Temper Trap. They pulled the craziest, loudest crowds, not necessarily the biggest of crowds, but certainly the wildest! There was plenty of Aussie support all around too, and we made plenty of new Aussie friends in our travels.

The crowds certainly picked up throughout the festival, and by the final headliner of the 3 days, Arcade Fire, a band I have never really taken to, I was completely BLOWN AWAY! They were insane, and if they are ever playing nearby I highly suggest you buy yourself a ticket!

All in all, instead of the inebriated sensation I usually feel at festivals, I remember everything beginning to end, and I have a much loved bright red, triple tan line (from the 3 different straps I wore each day; racer back, spaghetti strap and micro-sleeve.)

For those of you interested in what has been added to my mental 'the most amazing festival moments of all time' list;

The Strokes – Last Night, Reptilia
The Temper Trap – Fader
Phoenix – Lisztomania, 1901 & Girlfriend
Mumford & Sons – Little Lion Man & The Cave
Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros – Home
F**k Buttons - ALL OF IT!!!
Arcade Fire - ALL OF IT!!!

Cannot wait until next year Chicago!

Social Security Office - Take 2

Today I had to make a dreaded second visit to the Social Security Office in Brooklyn. They sent my first card to the wrong address...leaving the 'A' out of the street number on the postal envelope!

I know this doesn't sound like a story worthy of sharing with many of you, however to me, this experience felt like hell had made a special visit to Brooklyn.

When my card didn't turn up weeks after it should have, I made a phone call to enquire its where-abouts. I was told that nothing could be done over the phone, and I would have to go back to the Social Security Office.

Don't even for one minute underestimate what this trip meant, or even begin to pretend it could be so easy. Visiting Social Security requires a good 2.5-3hrs of your precious day. 2.5-3hrs of standing in a long line. One long line after the next. First you line up to get scanned in through security. This takes approximately 1.5hrs, with families and kids acting out and Mothers yelling profusely at them to "Shut-up, or we're leaving!" Good, I thought. Leave. Please, leave. Please let this line shorten just a little, and get your horrid kids out of my way.

After being scanned through security, there's false hope the line is done. But of course it's not done. You are then lead up an elevator to level fifteen to join another line. There's nowhere to sit, you're hungry, tired, hot, bothered, and the people around you are making you more frustrated than anything else.

The first time I had to come was not fun. It was 104 degrees outside (40 degrees celcius) and the industrial fans inside were only managing to blow out hot air. Of course, with impatient, disgruntled people lining up for hours, this also meant the constant huff, and puff snaking its way through the line.

The second trip was the worst of the two for me though. I was being punished by having the endure this long line, by the simple fact that they sent my card to the wrong address. Their mess up, not mine! When I arrived, I at least thought I would be fast tracked to a different line. "No Mam, you fill out that form again, you line up like everyone else." You are kidding......well no they weren't.

As I went up the elevator to the final line, two couples began a qualm about God, children, and at what age God deems people to be responsible for their own actions! One couple believed their one year son was responsible if he decided to murder another being, and the other couple believed you had to be thirteen before you were in control of murdering someone. It got really heated, with many bystanders in the line joining in on the conversation. At some point, the conversation became so insane that all I could do was laugh out loud in the middle of the line.

So 3hrs later today, I finally should have a card on its way to me.

Fingers crossed, because I think I'd rather be an illegal worker in the States before lining up to do that all over EVER AGAIN!

The ears on the train go POP, POP, POP!

The ears on the train go POP, POP, POP...POP, POP, POP...All the way to Manhattan.

This is a true story, and after catching the train back and forth between Brooklyn and Manhattan every day for the past month, I still find the whole experience VERY entertaining.

I live the first stop out of Manhattan, which is called Bedford Ave. In between Bedford Ave and 1st Ave, there is a moment where the pressure in everyones ears becomes just too much. And so it begins.

Many puff out cheeks. Some move their jaws in large rotations. But most commuters, in the most unflattering way possible, squeeze their noses tight and blow out like a blowfish. It is simply amusing watching everyone on the train, in sync with one another, pop their ears.

You just have see it for yourselves.

So who's visting next???

"It's just how we do it in NYC"

This was my first night out hitting the BIG clubs in NYC, and it won’t be forgotten for a very long time...

The night started out with Pre-Game (synonym = pre-drinks) at a friends’ apartment in East Village. Meet up time was 11.30pm, but when I arrived, her roomies were having a quick cat-nap. After waking them up, and getting ready, it was 12.45am before we left the apartment.

A long, 20 minute cab drive (for the 5 or so blocks we had to go) later, and we pulled up out front of Juliet in the Meatpacking District. I would like to say there’s a Sydney equivalent to this club, but really there isn’t. This would be more in line with...let's say 'the movies'.

After a two minute education lesson from the girls about ‘how things work’ in the NYC club scene, we were escorted in by a promoter, who was close friends with one of the girls. Basically, without befriending promoters, forget having a fun or cheap night out in the city.

With the promoter by our side, we were able to pass by the one hundred other girls lining up to get in. We were then escorted straight to the front of the line at the bar, and had shots (& chasers) bought for us. And then taken to a private table in the corner of the club, where buckets of ice, litres of spirits and jugs of juice were adorned across the table.

It took only fifteen minutes before I felt sorry for men in NYC. It was an expensive process for them to go out for the night. But, they had money, and we did not.

The music got our dance on, and we spent many long hours busting out the moves on the dance floor.

By the time we were ready to leave, we had mustered up a group of twelve people. The promoter decided it best to be driven by a limousine that was waiting to take in suckers like us to the next club (which was a five minute drive).



With limousines came VIP access into the next club, and no ID check. After all, if you hop out of a limo, you must be legal and you must be important; right?

This club was full of hookah’s (no, not hooker's) and once again, tables of ice buckets, litres of spirits and jugs of juice. I guess it’s just how it’s done in NYC. We had barely walked through the front door before a friend and my arms had been grabbed and pulled to a table.

“You want some hooka? A drink? I’m a promoter.”

No joke, this was all said in the one breath. My friend whispered in my ear, get his number, promoters are your ticket to fun in the NYC baby.

And so the night continued, hookah’s and all!

We rolled back to the promoters luxury apartment in Chelsea (who lives directly below Kanye West), and he ordered burgers, fries, chicken wings and spinach ravioli (odd combo, right), at 7am in the morning. Delicious.

At 8am we hopped in cab and were homeward bound. Having spent only $10 (my contribution to the cab) all night, I was one very happy lady.

I love NYC!

The Twin Cities......Minneapolis

I flew to Minneapolis over the weekend for my gorgeous God Sisters' wedding, and WOW was it a beautiful night!

I had been looking forward to this weekend since moving to the States because Mum, William & Rachel were coming over from Oz. We didn't do our final goodbyes in Sydney, because we knew we would be seeing each other in Minneapolis, so it was sure to be a fun (but short) weekend away.

After a stunningly beautiful wedding ceremony, cocktails and canapés in the courtyard, and a no expenses made reception dinner in the gallery space, we were all lead upstairs, where the real party began.

A bar, dance floor, suave lounge set-up, and amazing balcony that wrapped around the entire hotel space, and not to forget the incredible DJ who played the bride & groom's AMAZING top 100 songs picked and ready to scream through the speakers.

After but little persuasion, and upon realizing that at least twenty people were racing to the dance floor by song number one, I had dragged Rachel up with me. Right on cue of course for everybody else to sit down. She shied away for a mere 60 seconds, before I had her boogying and shaking in her very short, shift dress.


Rachel got the most compliments out of anybody ALL night. Her $23 bargain dress from ‘Forever 21’ had the bride asking if she was wearing Marc Jacobs. But no, when Laura caught glimpse of what Mummy dearest had purchased in Texas for her, we had to make an emergency “I don’t have anything ‘nice’ enough to wear to the wedding tomorrow” trip to The Mall of America. Laura to the rescue managed to find the winning number in a matter of minutes; dress, cluster of bracelets, shoes, bag; the lot!

Once we had our dance on, Rachel and myself barely left the dance floor all night long. Well, except for the occasional Grey Goose, lime & soda, and pink lemonade (or should I say, Sprite!)

Eyes were on us all night long, and we had the most incredibly fun night of our lives.

Mum shocked us on the dance floor also. We knew she loved to get down and boogy, but she was doing more than just boogy that night. She was tearing up the dance floor alongside us for many of the big hits. Alongside us, and later in the night, alongside the younger male varieties in the room. She too, had many sets of eyes on her. Go Mom!



At 12.30am Mum had, had enough. She asked William and Rachel if they wanted to leave, but they were too busy tearing up the dance floor still, so they stayed with me. It was only the party people, a whole fifteen or so of us, and William and Rachel left. Classic!

As 1am rolled around, the DJ was done for the night. We retreated to public bar downstairs where we had been for cocktails and canapés earlier in the evening. It didn’t last long though, as the heat that had been with us all day, turned to rain.

Cue for the night to end, and for everyone to head back to their rooms.

My little groovers were finally ready to go home, and so was I. But this night will be remembered as the biggest, boogiest, bestest night in the U, S of A ever!

What can I say…..The Gammel’s ALWAYS know how to get the party started!

Not so clever in pleather.....

Definition: Pleather - Artificial leather is a fabric substitute for leather where a leather-like finish is required but the actual material is cost-prohibitive or unsuitable.

I have been dying to wear my pleather skirt since arriving in NY. It had been my fave fashion piece through the Australian winter, but due to the 104 degree temps in NY, it has been out of the question. Although it is a very short skirt, anyone who has ever worn leather (and especially pleather) can tell you how sticky & hot it is to wear. Even my easiest breeziest cotton skirts have been sticking to me in this weather.

This morning however, I felt the weather had dropped a little, just enough to wriggle into my fave skirt, or at least it was the closest weather opportunity I was going to get for a while to wear the skirt. So on it went, and out the door I went.

What a statement I was making!

First stop; iced-coffee from the coffee shop on the corner. A man of about forty ordered ahead of me, and upon turning around to move off to the side, he stopped in his tracks and stared me up and down. “Why do people not wear leather anymore?” He asked. “Your skirt is fantastic, I don’t know why nobody wears leather anymore.”

“I guess it’s because I’m not from here. Aussies have always had an odd spin on fashion.” I said. And so the long story of my background began. A great pick-up line from yours truly.

I then had a meeting with a designer that morning. She too commented on her love for my skirt.

The day continued with many whistles out of car windows, men stopping on the streets to stare me up and down, one female crossed over the road to tell me she loved my skirt, and many, many sales assistants commented on it also.

I began to wonder if the pleather was causing such a response because of how I looked in it, because of the sexual connotations attached to a short leather skirt, or if in fact that people just loved the skirt.

At the end of the day however, I felt rather trampish in my tight pleather skirt, catching the boggling eyes of every man (& woman) passing by, not to mention its utter inappropriateness in the cities heat.

It is with great sadness that I announce it here first; I will be waiting a little while before pulling out my fave fashion piece again.

May the fourth be with you...

New York City, 4th of July!

A day for families to put their home made fireworks to the test, soak up the sun, wear skimpy blue, red & white combos, and purchase blow-up backyard pools to survive the stifling heat.

For me, Independence Day celebrated exactly that...my independence!

Independent Laura sat on Long Beach, eating foot long hero's, mixed berry fruit salads, and bucket loads of organic spiked lemonade. Simply superb!

After a lazy day having intimate relations with my air-conditioner, it was 5pm before we could muster ourselves into the car & hit the road bound for Long Beach.

The boys decided they needed beach toys to play with. First stop was CVS; the cities answer to EVERYTHING! The shelves dripped in an array of frisbees, racquets, balls, bats; you name it they had it. But in true male form, nothing was good enough for the boys. Especially after a quick iPhone search revealed that we were 100m away from Toys 'R Us...but alas, it was nowhere to be found. Thank God for the local beach shops overflowing with US flag printed paraphernalia. The boys jumped on board the US flag printed paddles & balls and to the beach we went.

The weather had cooled nicely, the spiked lemonade was working its magic, and the food was going down a treat. A beautiful night was had by all, and after an extremely giggly ride home, and an interesting trip to 7-Eleven, I arrived at my front door at 1.30am.

I decided the night was still young, and with a phone call to Eloise and a quick train trip into Manhattan, the night lingered on....

There was a rooftop with hedges, and fairy lights galore. The Empire State stood in the backdrop, glistening in all its evening beauty. Men were coming at us, from every corner of the globe. This was not a joke. It seemed we were pulling all the guys that night, but not one of the from the US of A. It seemed awfully un-independent of us, and tonight all we wanted was some American boy interaction. Jager bombs, tap waters, tip after tip. A 24hr gym, with a fitness freak inside (at 2am). A 24hr diner, that was packed to the brim, but alas, not even NYC can pull a liquor license through the night.

So the night finally ended, it was 5am. Independence day was gone, and the city was sleeping (yes, believe it or not). The sun was rising, and yellow cabs were in full abundance. So in I hopped back to my new found love, Brooklyn.

Home sweet home...and oh what a way to celebrate my independence...

LG hits NYC...

Night # 5 in NYC & I sadly find myself sitting on the couch in front of the tele with a tub of Ben & Jerry's 'Fish Food' Ice-cream! For those of you lucky enough to know what I'm talking about......YUM!

Since arriving, it has been a complete whirlwind. Not the first week of New York everyone is expecting me to be having - believe me! It is not all Upper East Side, drinks by the pool, parties right through til morning, and men hanging off every limb. The reality of week number one in NYC has been spending countless hours every day in a relationship with craigslist.com finding an apartment, and then coordinating inspections of the apartments - up to six on any given day. Sounds easier than you may think.

In Sydney, the prospect of going to six inspections on a lazy Saturday is normal. You casually wake up, go to brunch, then hop in the luxury of your car and away you go; hopping from one place to the next. For me it has been a little harder. Still deciding if I want to live in the East Village or Brooklyn has certainly made things harder too, as it has meant hopping back and forth on trains between Manhattan and Brooklyn. And of course, as chance would have it, inspection times always happen to pan out that one will be in Brooklyn, then one in Manhattan, then Brooklyn, then Manhattan, Brooklyn, Manhattan! Exhausting! Plus, inspections can happen on any day, and at any hour. One person wanted to swing by at 11pm Tuesday night!

At least now I am a pro at getting the train! I know which stop I'm hopping on at, which stop I'm getting off at, and even how to get to the station from my (temporary) residence in Brooklyn.

A few quick laughs about my house hunting experiences;

1 - A room in the East Village, which when I arrive, I realise the term East Village has been used VERY loosely. It is at the furthest point of East Village, and is in fact at the edge of Alphabet City; the part of town where things begin to feel a tad sketchy. As I continue walking street by street, further and further from the desirable end of the East Village, I find myself standing opposite the apartment. A group of six large men are sprawled across the front steps that lead up to the building. They have stocking cut-outs, fitted over their bald heads. Tattoos cover every visible inch of skin; which is a lot of skin seeing they all have their shirts off. They are sitting on the steps in such a way, that they have gained complete ownership over the steps and anything beyond the steps. They looked very gang-like, so I continue around the opposite corner and don't look back. I write a text to the owner of the apartment letting them know I won't be coming, as I have found myself another place already. Cheeky.

2 - This is the 6th inspection I have set up, and I have seen a lot of crap by this point. This time on the Lower East Side, and once again the term has been used very, very loosely for the border of China Town. One of the tenants leads me up to the ninth floor...all walk-up stairs...I keep telling myself I love stairs, but this was a lot of stairs. We reach the front door, eventually, and he swings the door open. "Watch your step". There is a ledge right at the front entrance that I have to step over to get into the apartment (hazard for those big nights out). He knocks on the bedroom door where another room mate pops out of. "This will be your room." As in many Manhattan apartments, all that fits in the room is the bed. I don't even know how they managed to maneuver the bed into the room, it is sitting in there so snug. There are odd looking cabinets attached the the walls with her belongings in them. Nails are coming out of the wall at the back of the cabinets (yet another hazard). I can barely see the room due to the amount of clothes and objects flung across the room. I am taken out to the kitchen that looks burnt to a crisp. Literally. I don't think it's safe to cook anything in. "Where is the toilet?" "Down the hall" he replies. "And so it's just you & me then?" "Oh, no, it will be the three of us." Hmmmm. There are only two rooms though. As the feeling of a squatters town hits home, I decide it best to leave the premises immediately!

More stories to follow...

Fatty seals & lazy seal...
Fisherman's Wharf, San Francisco!

Not So Sunny, San Francisco...

Check-in, shower, wash face, brush teeth, fresh clothes, ready to walk the streets.

6.55pm, but not yet dark and I'm starving.

A mere hop, skip and a jump from my hotel I hear sirens, and lots of them. Sirens blaring from every corner of the street. Behind me, in front of me, to my left and to my right.

An antique style fire truck pulls up alongside me. Then another, and another. Antique is such a strange word to use, but I'm sure you get my drift. By the time I get my footing and start focusing on the path ahead, I realise that the street has now been closed off, and no one else can enter. Let's hope I can get out. I continue walking ahead, and stop myself as I am met face to face with a fire fighter holding his hose on entry to the burning building.

"Sorry. You go. " I say.

"No, no, after you Mam!"

What on earth...I can't believe it. At this point, there are seven fire trucks and two police cars at the scene, and the first fire fighter to enter the building has apologised to me, telling me go in front of him! Confusion has met an all time high.

With a bounce to my step, knowing that I now have many sets of eyes watching me pass by, I hurry across the footpath. It is a big scene for everyone nearby, but no smoke or fire is in sight. I don't stop to see if anything is going to happen, because I would much rather see San Francisco, than stand underneath a possibly, burning down building.

First impressions of San Francisco are not all that. It is freezing, slightly overcast, with an eery, greyish tone in the sky. The streets are naked, and I am just a little scared for my safety. I walk fast and keep looking straight ahead. Crass comments come my way every step I take, and I begin to realise I may not be staying in the best part of town.

I see two amazing spectacles on my first night in San Fran; the longest dreadlocks I have ever seen and the most heavily tattooed person I've ever seen.

The dreadlocks reached the man's ankle. No exaggeration. He was fishing off Pier 2 and tried conversing with me.

I saw the tattooed man in the burger shack across from my hotel later that night. His head is shaven and covered in tattooed fish-like scales. The tattoos continue down his face, but they look more like spider legs stretching from the scales on his scalp, down to his chin and neck. His knuckles are tattooed in bolts, like that of a robot. Circular tattoos on his knuckles with adjoining screws along the ligaments of his fingers. His legs are covered in the same scales as his head, and his forearms are covered in lighting bolts. They take up the entire width of his arms. A large spider is coming from behind his ear and down to the back of his neck.

He is wearing spectacles, which strikes me as odd. He has that much art work on his body and face, and I would have thought he'd want to show everything off in all its glory, not having it covered by spectacles. And surely he has the money to get laser. His body would be worth tens of thousands of dollars at the very least in tattoos.

Will continue my adventures tomorrow...

6th Street "Ghetto"

Once again, I wanted to tell you all about my amazing past couple of days in San Fran, however I have another funny story to tell.

I was going to get some dinner tonight and thought I should do some research first. I'm constantly walking into places that look decent from the outside, but turn out to be horrible on the inside; good from the outside = horrible on the inside! (Note to self.) This was definitely the case tonight, but in reverse.

One of the reviews which had looked promising, led me to a place near my hotel. Only one street away in fact. The review warned readers that it was a "tad dingy", but was recommended by so many people, so I thought, why not.

I started walking towards the restaurant, and realised it was on 6th street; the ghetto street. The guy at the front desk of my hotel had told me to keep away from this street, and to keep walking if I was going past it.

For one reason or another, I thought I'd give it a shot anyway. So I took the left turn on the corner of 6th street, and in the process, bumped in to a fairly large group of homeless men. They instantaneously started calling things at me, "damn you're beautiful", "nice legs", "hellllllllll ohhhhhh, (whistling)", she is a woman right there, gorgeous". The name calling had already become second nature to me walking down the streets of LA & San Fran, as it had been happening all week long. But this time, it was scary.

I quickly back stepped and got the hell out of there quick smart!

In my attempt to pretend I knew where I was walking, and not look so 'tourist like', I walked to the next block hoping to find another restaurant to run in to and hide. Then I had an idea. The restaurant was number eight, which I figured out would be at the other end of 6th street, and close to the corner. So the plan was to go around the block and sneak into 6th street from the other direction, hopefully arriving in one piece.

I could see the restaurant out the corner of my eye as I walked by, 'Tu Lan', a Vietnamese restaurant. It was far worse than I had imagined it would be. I contemplated not turning on to 6th street, but something about those reviews made me determined.

Two bums were sitting alongside the footpath out the front. The metal looking venetian blinds in the front window were bent, rusting, and on a slant, and from the front, it looked as if I had arrived in the slums of Vietnam. I saw a young couple entering the restaurant, so took the opportunity to run in behind them.

The menu was in my hand within seconds, and a minute after that, the waiter (well I'm not sure if I would go as far to call him that, but the man who worked there) pulled up a chair beside me to take my order.

My wine was plonked on the table in front of me immediately. I'm still trying to figure out how he had time to pour a glass of wine in the time he left the table & returned with the glass. It was the size of at least two standard drinks, and was surprisingly nice for the $2.50 (+ tax) I paid for it. Then, before I had a chance to pick up my glass of wine, my meal was placed over my head and smacked down in front of me.

Unbelievable! My estimate would say it took about 3 minutes from the time I ordered, until my wine & meal had appeared before me. I was definitely getting worried about the quality of this food.


I ordered a rice noodle salad with the most incredible Imperial Rolls in the world. I have never tasted anything quite this amazing! Vermicelli noodles with some sort of ground meat and deep fried in the tastiest but naughtiest way. I had read they were good, and they certainly lived up to the hype. The only negative thing I have to say about the meal, is that I couldn't get through it. I only got half way through the bowl. The servings were huge.

In the hope that my food would settle in a little while, I retreated back to sipping on my wine. Little did I realise that all I was doing was filling myself up on wine, and feeling quite tipsy at the end of my double standard glass.

Throughout my meal, the phone was off the hook. Take-away orders no doubt. The door was constantly swinging open, with many locals choosing 'Tu Lan' as an obvious favourite cheap, quick meal.

The decor was an absolute treat. It actually reminded me of my last trip to Vietnam. So ten points for capturing the pure essence of eating like a local Vietnamese. There were chow mein noodles stacked from the cook top bench to the ceiling; opened and un-cooked. There were hand held face fans masking taped to walls and shelves around the room. I went to cross my legs at one point, and as I removed one foot from the ground, it took more than a normal nudge to unstick it from the floor. Sydney health inspectors would have a field day here. It was however the busiest restaurant I had seen all day, and no ones complaining in San Fran.

Can't wait for dinner tomorrow night, 'Tu Lan' here I come...

My oh my.......

What a morning!

I have lots to say about my 2nd day in LA, however for now, I have a much funnier story to tell...I know you will like it, (except maybe Mum - you will be angry).

Day 2 in LA & I decided I didn't want to spend the entire seven days here. Without a car it's just too hard. So I booked a flight to San Francisco. From what I've been told there is SO much more to do and it's easy to get places.

I booked my flight for 1.30pm so I could check out as normal at 11am and leisurely make my way by shuttle to LAX (I really wasn't keen on another $65 USD cab ride).

The morning of my flight...or should I say the afternoon...

I roll over in my bed and can immediately feel that I've over slept. Leaning across to read the time on the clock and my body has already taken off on a mind of it's own. My flight leaves LAX at 1.36pm. The time is now 12.01pm. Check in is at 12pm.

I am on the phone to concierge within seconds asking for a cab to be out the front in five minutes. "How long does it take to get to LAX?"

"30-40 minutes."

"Fantastic!"

Somehow I get my things together and find myself out the front within minutes.

A hire car turns up out front (not a generic cab) & I know I'm going to pay through the nose for this. "Get me to LAX ASAP. I am very late."

I'm not sure if it's just Sydney that stresses me out, or if it's me being on my own that doesn't stress me out? Because when I explained my story to the cabby, all he could say was "I'm sorry but I have to laugh about this", and I laughed with him. Not a normal Laura reaction at all!

"What airline are you flying with love?"

"Crap. I have no idea. I haven't even written down my flight details. No airline, no booking number; no nothing."

I pull my MacBook out of my bag and attempt to get wireless as i'm driving along the freeway. Wishful thinking I know, but after many sets of lights and about ten minutes down the road, success!

I got my booking up & everything was looking up. Well except for the fact that it was already 12.40pm.

We pulled up out the front at 1.03pm and I ran. Cab only cost $55 USD (plus tip mind you)

It is all self-service check in. I put in the booking details and it was all looking fine until it asked if I had any baggage to check in. Did I ever! Then the inevitable popped up on the screen. Check in for this flight has already closed.

Ok. So I'll get on the next flight. $50 USD to get a standby ticket, or $75 USD to get a guaranteed seat. Guaranteed seat for sure. Lucky I did too. We are just being called up now, and they have announced that the flight is full and no standby tickets will get on this flight. I'm silently laughing to myself.

Oh, and then it charged me another $60 USD to check my bags in. Unbelievable! I questioned this after I had paid, and the lovely man at self-service told me I could claim it back if I'd been on an international flight within the month!

Thank goodness for that...

The City of Angels

In the 100m walk from my hotel to the nearest metro, I had already been approached by a local attempting to harass me with his (tourist trap) 100 questions. Being the bitch that I am, I barely stopped to acknowledge him, let alone take part in his little flirtation game. Success; it worked!

First stop...FOOD! My last meal had been breakfast at 7am on the plane...it was now 6pm! I hopped off at Hollywood/Highland on the main strip, and with memories of the food I had eaten on my last trip to LA, opted for Maccas as a safe option. Yes you heard it here; Maccas IS a safe option in times like this!

"One small cheeseburger meal please."

A medium chips, medium coke & TWO cheeseburgers later...yes TWO cheeseburgers, because supposedly a small meal consists of TWO cheeseburgers! I left the 2nd one on the table when I left. I had seen a few homeless men walking through the tables looking for left overs, so I thought it was the right thing to do.

While sitting in Maccas I had my 2nd local encounter. A man parked his arse on the chair opposite me. I continued attacking my cheeseburger in an attempt to discretely ignore him, but he missed the point completely!

"What's you name? Where are you from? Do you mind if I sit & talk to you? I just want to know your story if that's fine."

No it is not fine! Honestly! "I'd rather be left alone."

"Seriously? Sitting with me is better than sitting alone, right???? Take a look at my CD, I'm a dj. I'm playing tonight" - & so it continued.

"I just want to sit on my own."

"For real?"

I already said for real. Get the point & move along buddy!

Too far do you think? I think not. Especially when he whipped out the CD. That guy had motive trying to talk to use his cd to get through to me! Was it money he wanted for it? Sex perhaps? I highly doubt it was a simple chat just because he didn't want me sitting alone?

I walked up the strip for a while, until it started to get dark. I'm not going to go in to detail about the strip, because I find it tragically boring. To put it in one sentence; Over-crowded, star studded, gum covered streets! I stepped in fresh gum three times.

Home time.

Waiting for the metro I had my third and final encounter of the male, local species for the day. Three in three hours isn't bad, however this time it was two guys, so that would make it four guys in three hours. They began serenading me. At first they were just singing, having a jam session of sorts underground or something. Then I started listening to the words. They were talking about me. Signing about the clothes I was wearing, about how tall I was and how beautiful I was. It was complete improvisation about me. I once again turned the bitch switch on, and pretended I was hearing impaired and couldn't hear a word of what they were signing. Awkward or what?

To say that i was a tad scared is a complete understatement. I was freaked out, and then a strange thing happened. They stopped and started talking about barbie. No joke. What they like & dislike about barbie.

I think they were gay...

And so it began...

With only 1 hour of sleep, a mad freak out as to whether or not I had packed everything, and a sudden isolation of all my limbs, (possibility that the move was beginning to affect me) I was on my way to the airport.

Let me introduce you to the first sibling to enter my blog - Mathew - AKA - Gumby!

In true fashion, Gumby had been left behind, so deep in sleep, one of my sisters prodded him (or for better choice of words - thrashed him) over the head with a broomstick to get a response, and still no movement. So we left without him. Of course, in my isolated limbs freak-out I was not aware of his absence until we were well on our way, and I was not sure if I'd get to bid him farewell or not.

Bags were checked easily enough, considering I had packed right up to the maximum of 23kg per bag! New camera was purchased through duty free (keep posted for some fab pics to pop up here over the next few days) and we (Mum, Kate, Bec, James, Dan, Vic, Will, Razo & Steph - but no Gumby) parked ourselves at a restaurant to say our final goodbyes over a few glasses of bubbly.

Mum was giving her final words of advice, "don't wait to say goodbye to Gumby, he won't get here in time & you need to utilise the free Qantas Club pass I gave you."

Gotta love my Mum. Always thinking about what's important, right before I leave my family for God knows how long. As it so happened, I did miss out on the Qantas club, which meant missing out on any food passing through my mouth at all that day.

My flight was boarding at 12.20pm; it was already 12.05pm and Gumby had called to say he was hopping out of the cab NOW! This gave me 15 minutes for final goodbyes, customs, bag search, picking up duty free purchases, and running to the gate!

I made it in perfect time. But no Qantas club = no food = STARVED!!!

With only 1 hour sleep from the night before (or should I say that morning at 5.30am) I was out like a light half an hour after take off. Only waking up at the smell of food a little while later. It was the best plane meal I had, and I'm still trying to work out if it was because I hadn't eaten in about 16 hours, or if it really was good plane food???

My usual consecutive movie marathon was far from that. I kept falling asleep through every movie I started, managing only to watch one full movie, I love You Too. So much better than I was expecting.

I had slept through so much of the 14 hour flight that my arrival in to LAX came very quickly.

$65 USD to get myself to the hotel. I managed to get an early check in at 12pm. I opened my computer to send word home that I was safe, however mid-email I had crashed and was out like a light, with sprawling limbs over my MacBook, and my neck propped in a horribly twisted position, (which I regretted later that day) and I did not awake until 4.30pm that afternoon.

1st day in LA...gone...

LG in NYC

Hi one and all & welcome to my blog LG in NYC!

I am about to embark on probably the biggest adventure of my life to date, and needed an outlet to share it with the world; or anyone who cares enough about my adventure to follow. So here it is.

I am moving to NYC indefinitely on a one year work/travel visa. I have a return flight to come home in three months time, but I do not intend to be on that flight!

Who knows where the next year, or perhaps ten or twenty or thirty years will take me in NYC.

So let the journey begin...

A big pit of nothing.......

Only one thing is scaring me in the wee hours of 3.30am on the morning of my flight to LA. Why do I feel nothing? I am about to embark on the biggest move of my life, and I feel nothing.

There are no nerves, no excitement, no tears, no nothing! Nothing!

I sat watching the minutes click over, and before I knew it it was 5.30am. Still no sleep. My bags were finally packed at least.

Until an hour ago, I didn't even have my hotel booked for tonight. I have no idea why I am so unaffected by what is about to happen, but I keep telling myself that it can only be a positive thing. At least I'm not about to wet myself and intentionally miss my flight due to the fear and realisation of what I am about to do.

I am sitting on the lounge with my brother making a check-list. A check-list that probably should have been made weeks ago;

Toiletries? "You can buy that stuff in America, so what's the use in taking up valuable packing space. I have the bare essentials of course."

Passport? "Check."

Visa? "Check."

Do you have something comfy to wear on the plane? "Shit. No!" Note to self to run up to Westfield as soon as the shops open in the morning for leggings & top!

Adaptor? "Shit. No!" Once again, note to self; buy at Westfield in the morning.

Travel itinerary? "I don't really have one; so NO. But yes to my hotel booking for tonight."

Bedtime at last. I have to wake up in an hour and a half, and I don't sleep on planes. There's always too many good movies to watch, and I'm flying on the A380. So many movies to choose from.

Is that excitement in my voice??? I think not.....