Snowflakes in France

Reflections of a 20-something woman in publishing

Month: August, 2009

Among the Weeds, Daisies and Sky Scrapers

Over the weekend, Jon and I cut through the High Line Park on our way to brunch. As I was trying to describe this newly opened phenomenon to my mom, I realized that I didn’t really know much about it myself.


Courtesy of the High Line Web site

Courtesy of the High Line Web site



Sure, I’d been there a few times, and I thought it was an awesome space in the city. A natural and green place where people can walk and relax, looking down the cars for some stretch of land, 10 blocks? 15? I wasn’t really sure. I just liked it.

As it turns out, the park may have opened this summer, but the High Line has been there since the 1930s, when it was built to run freight trains above the city streets. But the last train to run on that line carried 3 cars full of frozen turkeys in 1980. The elevated rail was left to decay and weeds for about 20 years before people started working on its reuse.


Courtesy of High Line Web site

Courtesy of High Line Web site




Now we have a lovely, sunny park, from Gansevoort Street to 20th Street, and in 2010 that will be expanded up to 30th Street.


Getting Beyond the Bottom Line

I was a straight-A student, an overachiever. Graduating from college and getting an entry-level administrative position was like signing up for a year of vacation. And now I’m bored.

What does society expect to do with men and women who used to be honor students, who stayed up until 2 am every night just to finish that book and write that 5-page paper that they didn’t have time to do amidst running a desk at the daily newspaper, working at the local lawfirm or planning a community charity event for their sorority? 

I’ve been here a year. I like my company, I admire my managers, and I want to make decisions beyond what time to schedule the next meeting. But how can we all expect to be promoted after a year?

Of course, I’m somewhat hesitant to jump back into my old overachieving, slightly workaholic mindset. I’ve finally started to watch TV, catch up on movies, and read books that have been on my list for quite a while. And I have fears. Can I really make it in a NYC business where I could potentially make decisions worth $1 billion in revenue? Am I ready for the risks? Do I have enough smarts and imagination to come up with the ideas before the other people around me? Because I sure don’t have the experience. 

But I’m not sure I have a choice. This is the way society bred me. I’m hoping that it’s also the reason I was hired.

Lazing around while I can

I probably should be sifting through a box or two to try to clean out our “dining room”. Or maybe figure out what to put on that empty bookshelf that’s sitting in front of the fire place. It would be against the wall, but we haven’t really gotten around to asking the French neighbors if we can bring the boxspring up through their place and push it over to our deck. So the boxspring is sitting against the wall in the middle of our living room.

Despite the fact that our housewarming party is 2 weeks away, Jon and I decided to go to the beach today. The weather was wonderfully hot and dry, so three of our friends and a dog drove down to the New Jersey Island Beach State Park. The dunes sloping on the coast were magnificent, and difficult enough to walk through that I got quite a workout.

Now I’m sitting on the couch, beach hair, sandy toes, random splotches of red on the pieces of skin the sunscreen missed when I reapplied. Perfectly content. Except that everything around me is in disarray. Anna asked if we knew what we were planning for the party, and a slight terror gripped me — I have to actually plan a party? I brushed it off with a comment about the unknown weather that day, but I haven’t even figured out where to put all of our junk, let alone what we’ll do to entertain!

That is the next thing on my list, to clean this place up. This weekend. Right now! That is, after I finish off my perfect summer Saturday with a cookout at Anna’s…