About

Who Am I?

My name is Jamie, and I am a New Yorker. For realz. Born in Manhattan, February 1976. Sent away to boarding school at an early age, and came screaming back almost as soon as my cap and gown were returned to the drop box in the gym.

I am also someone who really and truly loves this freaking city. I gobble it up. I love the way it smells, even in the summertime or when it rains and everyone stinks like wet dog. I love the view from the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges, I love the way the asphalt sparkles in the sunshine. I love the way people are totally willing to chat with each other on the subway or give directions even if they’ve had a miserable day and really don’t feel like talking. I love that it feels like some crazy shit is going down here 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

Why Did I Start This Blog?

Because I HATE the whore she’s become (tm some very astute letter-writer to the New York Daily News). I hate the gleaming glass building that replaced a block of stores near my mother’s building that had been there since I was born. I hate the stupid Manhattan-is-better-than-Brooklyn-and-vice-versa fights on Craigslist that pop up every now and then, started by insecure idiots who don’t know anything about this city, and really don’t deserve to live here. I hate Fresh Direct and Whole Foods. I hate bars that charge $16 for a martini in a tiny glass, with attitude at no additional charge. And so on.

So this blog is dedicated to celebrating the New York I know, love and often miss. I’ve been walking the soles off my shoes in this city since I was a little girl, and I’ve found some of the funkiest, most interesting, most affordable hidden treasures here, shops and restaurants and bars and clubs and galleries that are an oasis for me in a sea of boring and overpriced homogeneity. I’m going to tell you where to get flappingly fresh fish in Chinatown, costume jewelry for 2.75 a piece that WON’T turn parts of you green, the best karaoke experience ever, where to dance yourself into a coma and actually have fun doing it, and when you’ve had enough, the best ways to get the hell out of here.

Why Should You Give A Flying Rat’s Ass (i.e. A Pigeon’s Ass) About My Opinion?

If you’re:

a) a tourist who doesn’t happen to consider the Sex and the City tour the quintessential NYC experience;

b) a college student who can barely afford the ramen to keep from starving to death;

c) a bitter old-school NYC night owl who hopes the students living in the NYU Palladium dorm are forever haunted by the ghosts of dead club kids;

d) a homosexual;

e) anyone who just doesn’t vibe with New York City circa 2008;

then the odds are pretty good that you’ll find some place, person or thing I’ve reviewed on this blog that speaks to you, that you’ll probably really love and visit all the time and tell all your friends about. I don’t claim to be a New York City expert, but I can claim to have found a way to love it here, to love it hard, and to love it on less than $60,000 a year. Not a highly populated demographic.

Shall we?