Nieceley's Believe It or Not

I made it. The dog made it. The cat made it. The fish made it. The turtles made it. The peking ducks flew away. Daffy and Lily fled from the Fashionaunta Zoo. On Saturday morning, I went down to feed the two ducks, but saw their buckets of food were spilled everywhere, and them, nowhere to be found. The first thing I did was triple check for them, and the second was calling Fashionaunta. Of course, this would happen under my care. Typical.

Saturday afternoon, around 3:30, a few girlfriends came to the island to get out of the city, swim, and house sit with me. They were taken aback by the view of the house, and told me maybe five times each that I was so fortunate to come back to this house every day. I agreed. We decided, while having a girls night in, that we needed a little bit of fun. So, pushing the couches and dining table out of the way, we turned on the stereo, and danced to music. And then, the doorbell rang. A male police officer suited up, telling us that he received a noise complaint from one of the neighbors. I looked at the girls completely flustered, them seeming to be fine. He asked to take a look inside of the house, so I allowed him in. I turned around only to find the officer's suit ripped off and him in a red thong, only carrying handcuffs, and moving his hips like Ricky Martin. The rest is history.

Sunday, I made sure I cleaned the house, dropped the crazy girls off at the train station assuring them I'd come into the city later in the day, and went back to the house and fell asleep watching "I Love You, Man". After a few loads of laundry, I was packed and ready to head to the city. I had called for a cab to take me to the train station and requested them to be at my house at 6:15. I stood outside of the house a few minutes early, hoping that they cab driver would be on time. That he was, but he started honking like a madman outside of the house that was one before mine. I jumped and waved, but this guy wouldn't stop. I ran into the driveway and finally he saw me. I got in the taxi. It smelled like cigarettes and Burger King... yum.

"A MERRY GOOD AFTERNOON!" he exclaimed, his head moving like a bobble head.

"Excuse me?" I said, automatically questioning if I would make it to the train station safely in my head.

"A MERRY GOOD AFTERNOON! LIKE MERRY CHRISTMAS! BUT, MERRY GOOD AFTERNOON! HAHAHAHA!"

All I could think was, "Holy shit. I'm dead." But instead of saying anything, I sat there as mute as possible, trying not to show that I saw how badly this man was shaking, and how utterly insane he portrayed himself to be. (When I had spoken to a man from the cab company, he told me the ride would be $7.) Surprisingly enough, we made it to the train station. I handed the nutjob a $20. Reassuring myself, I asked, "How much is it?"

"YOU DONT KNOW HOW MUCH IT IS?!" he yelled at me.

Okay, I was officially scared. "Seven dollars?" I replied nervously.

"NO, THE RATES WENT UP. IT'S $6.28 PLUS TAX!"

"Okay, so can I please have ten back?" I asked in a rush, simply wanting to get out of there immediately.

"DID YOU NOT HEAR WHAT I SAID? I SAID THE RATES WENT UP!" he yelled again.

"Okay, just keep it." I said frantically, opening the door to get out.

"I'M JUST MESSIN' WITH YA! HERE YOU GO!" he shouted, handing me a ten back. "SMILE!" he yelled.

I bolted out of the cab as fast as I could.

I made it to the Jamaica station, where I transfer onto the Oyster Bay train line. I sat across from a woman that had stringy, white-blonde hair and the most wrinkled face I believe I've ever seen. Through the reflection of the window, I saw a conductor ask for the woman's ticket. She fumbled through her purse, pulling out multiple papers that might possibly be what she needs the conductor to punch and move on. Because it took so long, the conductor said she would come back after she was done with the car. Instead of looking for her ticket, the woman spent her time trying to open a plastic bottle of Sprite. It seemed to be very challenging for her. The conductor came back and asked the woman if she had found her ticket. The woman shook her head and handed the conductor a five dollar bill. As the conductor was rummaging for change, the old woman put her head in her hands and started to cry. When she stopped crying, she would squint her eyes shut, and her face was so baggy that the skin around her eyes would stick together longer than her actual eyes were shut. She then proceeded to curse and occasionally cry all the way to Penn Station. I was convinced it was Nutjob Sunday.

Monday was spent lounging around, catching up on relaxation, and going to see the movie 'Extract'. The movie was hilarious, and I snacked on Flaming Hot Cheeto's and cream cheese. Don't ask.

Today at the office, the mood is back up and pumping! Abby is back from her Eurotrip, and bought me a very cute bracelet that I'll be wearing every day, and an adorable keychain from Holland. I've listened to 23 voicemails, entered names into Filemaker, helped with the seating chart for the Badgley Mischka show, ran some deliveries over to the Badgley Mischka showroom, and researched a school of interest! After work, Abby and I are attending a Seventeen Magazine special screening of MTV's "The City", with a "special guest" and the October 2009 cover girl, Whitney Port. Do you see why I love when Abby's in town?

The day has flown by, I hope you all have had a great one!

Until tomorrow!

XXO

Fashionieceta

Fashionieceta Labor Day Freekend.

I haven't seen Mr. Lobby in a while, but yesterday he made small-talk conversation both on the way to getting my breakfast, and on the way back to the office. On the way there, he was curious to how I was, and on the way back, curious to what was for breakfast. Hmm..

I returned to the office only to work on the 'Invite Me' folder, check more voicemail's, write them down, and enter them into Tara's computer while she was in a meeting. So far, the day had felt very productive, and before I knew it, it was a quarter to twelve. I decided to work on the many, many returns that had somehow found their way to pile up in the closet that Sing and I had just recently cleaned.

Around a quarter to two, I had planned to spend my lunch break with yet ANOTHER friend visiting New York from California. We're going to call him AZ. AZ miraculously found his way to my building, and after grabbing a quick iced coffee from Starbucks, we went on our way in search of a T-Mobile store for his personal reasons. On the way there, AZ was convinced that I was trying to have him killed due to the fact that we were crossing streets when the red hand symbol was up. I was trying to explain that it we are in New York City, where you cross the street when no cars are coming, not when the lights tell you to do so. I'm slightly convinced that he has gotten the hang of it now.

I returned to Iconix after this adventure, only to go down to the fourth floor, pop in to say "Hi" to Lanie who gave me papers that needed delivery to a few desks to the left, right out of her office. Q-T. Fourth floor. Note to self.

Up at the eighth floor, it was time to start working on the seven-foot seating chart for the Badgley Mischka show. Before I knew it, it was time to leave.

This weekend, I have the house on the Long Island Sound to myself. What to do, what to do? What else does an eighteen year-old Fashionieceta do when she has an eight bedroom house on the water, with a pool to herself... and tons of friends from home do? After feeding the Fashionaunta Zoo consisting of a dog, ducks, fish, and turtles, it sounds like Fashionieceta Freekend Round Four is about to crack.

Until next time...

XXO- Fashionieceta.

Same Fashionieceta, Different Pace.

Iconix has so many people out of the office, it's really a whole different experience. I miss Fashionaunta, and riding in the front of the bus is so not the same without her. Yesterday, I spent an hour and a half on the Badgley Mischka RSVP voicemail. I was jotting down names, affiliations, numbers, and RSVP's the entire time. There were sixty five voicemail's that I had to write down. SIXTY FIVE.

Just when I started to feel myself become drained, the voicemail I needed finally came to me. "Hi, I'm calling from Teen Vogue-". (Could already tell it was an intern) "...and I would like to RSVP 'Yes'- I mean fuck- I would like to RSVP 'No' for..." The girl who sounded like she was fifteen and reading off of a paper slipped the F- Bomb on a high fashion RSVP. Didn't I tell you to keep it classy, New York? Given the fact that that message was number forty-five, it made me laugh hard enough to repeat it five times, and boosted my energy to listen to twenty more.

After I wrote down all of the RSVP's so I could make it easy to enter them into FileMaker, I ran downstairs, and for the first time grabbed lunch and brought it right back up to my desk. I downed my lunch, and prepared to enter sixty-five RSVP's into the computer.

Last night, I was invited to sleep at the Fordham dorms with Tessa and the new Fashionieceta group. I must say, we are all Fashionista's. I mean, would I roll with anything other than Fashionista's?! After I begged them to come to Chipotle with me for an hour, they finally gave in. When I demolished my burrito that was the size of a child, they then realized that I wasn't joking when I told them I was hungry five thousand times in one hour. Since Model Jon's apartment was just four blocks away, we were invited to go and hang out with him and his roommates. These roommates are nothing less than gorgeous... Every single one of them. But that's about it. They're good for viewing purposes, but trying to strike up an intriguing conversation is like trying to get blood from a stone. God just couldn't put amazing looks and amazing brains into one, could he? Thanks, dude.

I woke up, and had to go to 34th and Park, where the Waverly showroom resides on the 28th floor. This morning, we were filming Sandra Lee for the Waverly website. When she walked through the door, she was stunning! The last time I had seen her was in the Badgley Mischka showroom when she was just getting ready to leave, so it was very brief. She came in, and Tara and another woman who was with the film crew threw some highlights at her that they would want her to include for the one minute segment. Personally, if this were my job, I would have to rehearse and go over lines multiple times. Sandra was ready in minutes. The camera started rolling and she was unreal. Every word, every line just came naturally to her. I know that I didn't know what to expect, but I did not expect this! Her professionalism was beyond striking and filled me with an immediate appreciation for her work.

Sing and I had lunch in Bryant Park, where they are already setting up the tents for Fashion Week. It's all becoming so real, and it is very exciting. There wasn't much time left in the day, so I spent the time listening to another thirty voicemail's and then proceeding to enter them into Tara's computer. For those of you who know me personally and have my phone number in your possession, make a "note to self" to never leave me a voicemail, because I have no desire to check them. Ever again.

Until tomorrow.

XXO- Fashionieceta.