this is eye candy…
more about "Typophile Film Festival 5 Opening Tit…", posted with vodpod
…updated the site with some card photos
Photography by Connie Wang
really cool font i’m gonna start to play with
loving the light, whimsical touch!
{here is a friend’s post. Her story reminded me of people throughout my life whose words, actions, and deeds influenced me majorly. It’s the little things that make my heart smile :) Thanks for sharing!}
// I love Nordstroms and I’ll tell you why
Posted: 31 May 2009 11:41 PM PDT
I rarely go shoe shopping with friends. I don’t have the heart to put them through what is probably the most difficult shopping experience for me. My very wide, no arch, exactly like my dad’s size 7 mens foot, refuses to fit into women’s shoes. But of course, like every girl, I love shoes. And so, over the years, I’ve learned that if the shoe fits, buy it. And have been able to amass a few pairs of fantastic heels and flats.
But boots were something of a dream for me. The way some girls dream of buying Jimmy Choos or Christian Louboutin shoes someday, I looked forward to the day that I might find a pair of boots that fit my massive calves. I mean, I’m no bodybuilder, but I’ve got some mean calves – an exact replica of my dad’s calves. And this is where Nordstroms comes in.
Last year, I wandered into a Nordstroms in Chicago when I was on business to just kill some time. It was the beginning of the fall season so boots were on full display. I saw a cute pair of boots that looked like they would have some give in the calf region, so I asked a sales associate for the size 8.5 in brown. She returned with 3 pairs of boots. The first was what I had asked for and the other two in a similar style for me to try out. Whereas most people might be turned off by this salesmanship, I was actually grateful for her kind consideration. I tried all 3 on, but no luck. I couldn’t even zip it up half way…
I don’t know what came over me but I ended up telling her my sob story of forever wanting boots, but never having any luck finding the right pair. She touched my shoulder and said, “we will find you a pair that works. I promise.” I looked at her, skeptically, as in, “seriously?! you really want to put yourself through that?! Do you realize what you’re saying?” Now, you’re probably thinking, “well of course, she’s a sales person and she makes commission off the sale.” but haven’t you been in a situation where afterwards, you say to yourself, “man, you couldn’t pay me enough to do that again…”
But after 30 pairs of boots, and I’m not kidding, 30 pairs of boots later… we found the perfect ones. In a way it was as much a victory for her as for me, and throughout the whole torturous process of going back and forth to the back room to get another color, size, style, she never once seemed annoyed or regretting her decision to help me. That’s what I call great customer service. Giving off the air, true or fake, that you truly care for the customer and feel her pain and joy of finding the perfect pair of shoes.
The rest of the story is besides the point. I ended up buying 2 pairs of boots that fit perfectly and since carrying both back to CA was not possible, she shipped it, free of charge, to my office. But the point of the story is that the kindness that this sales associate showed me has forever made me a fan of Nordstroms, as well as a frequent shopper. In fact, I went to Nordstroms today and bought a few things, which spurred on this story. And it made me think how a little kindness can go a long way.
I read this article today which talks about how our acts of kindness have a lasting impact on people. We typically tend to focus on the negative, like the jackass that took your parking spot, or the mean comment someone made. If only we remembered more of the random acts of kindness, instead of writing these off like they were kindness with alterior motives (like making a sale), the world might be a happier place… on a slow blog day, I leave you with that. //
The Powerhouse is a hidden historic gem amidst the gray corporate towers of downtown Jersey City’s skyline. I’ve lived in JC for almost 4 years and fell in love with it first when I would go running past it along the waterfront. It’s currently abandoned, dusty, and unused, but that doesn’t mask the Powerhouse’s magnificence – the beautiful arched windows, detailed construction, and its solid presence. I’m not sure what the city has planned for it, but my hope and wish is that it would become a place for the community. It could have multi-uses: housing an art center, studios for artists, a cafe, a rooftop lounge, an arena for various events and parties, with gardening and seating for residents to gather. I think the Powerhouse would be a perfect location for social and cultural programs, and has great potential to enliven the staid financial area of Jersey City – there are a lot of residential buildings right next to the Powerhouse! I’m hopeful that what the future holds for the Powerhouse JC would offset what I envy in what Brooklynites enjoy in their borough.
From the Jersey City Landmarks Conservancy:
The Powerhouse’s Architect was John Oakman of Carrere and Hastings, who graduated from the Ecole des Beaux Arts in Paris. James J. Ferris, for whom one of Jersey City’s high schools is named, laid the foundation. One of the engineers in the project was L.B. Stillwell, whose firm designed the first Niagara Falls power plant. John Van Vleck designed the structure’s steel frame, Hugh Hazleton of Englewood, New Jersey, the electrical machinery, and the boilers by Babcock & Wilcox in Bayonne.
With the construction of the Powerhouse, for the first time people could travel between New York and New Jersey directly by rail on the Hudson and Manhattan Railroad. President Theodore Roosevelt himself gave the order for the engineers to flip the switch to activate the building.
Even after decades of neglect, the Powerhouse remained remarkably intact due to its sturdy construction. In the late 1990s, the Port Authority and Jersey City considered either demolishing the Powerhouse or constructing an office tower in the middle of a hollowed out Powerhouse, with the landmark structure relegated to use as a parking deck. The potential loss of the Powerhouse galvanized the preservation community and led to the creation of the Conservancy.
Things one knows about Jersey City prior to ever visiting:
One, it’s in New Jersey.
Two, it has the word “Jersey” in its name.
Three, you can see it from Manhattan.
And four, uh, it’s in New Jersey.
When my wife and I decided to move to NYC so she could go to grad school, everything we knew about the city on the other side of the Hudson fit neatly into the above statement, but Steph needed quick access to TriBeCa, and I needed to be able to drive out to Northern Jersey for work. Despite our lack of any real knowledge and our awareness of the stereotypes, we decided to give Jersey City a chance.
Stereotypes held concerning Jersey City: Many people, particularly those who live east of the Hudson, have some deeply ingrained but categorically unfounded stereotypes regarding Jersey City. These we discovered recently when we invited friends over for a visit. “Will it take about an hour to get there? But there aren’t any good restaurants, are there? Isn’t it all gas stations and strip malls? Does it smell? Should we bring a gun?”
Most people who hold these stereotypes have never visited. Some have.
Anyway, one true generalization concerning Jersey City is this: the closer one gets to the river, the nicer – and more expensive – the neighborhoods become. So, on a Saturday, just a few weeks before we hoped to make our move, I charted out a course for us that would begin in Jersey City Heights, located on a cliff above Hoboken and the least pricey part of the city, through Journal Square, and eventually to the downtown area and the waterfront.
A word about the Heights and Journal Square: These are two very up-and-coming neighborhoods in Jersey City, but with all due respect to those who live there, neither place was for us. The first few apartments that we visited did not give us any sense of “home.” Signs of development were visible but, we ultimately decided, we wouldn’t be living in the Heights or Journal Square. Slightly disheartened, we continued on.
I will never forget what happened next. The feeling that settled on us in our car as we descended Newark Avenue into downtown Jersey City can only be described as “coming home.” Dilapidated buildings gave way to beautifully restored brownstones. Dollar stores gave way to restaurants with names like Skinner’s Loft, Ox, Beechwood Cafe, and The Merchant. We drove slowly and rubbernecked at the openness of Grove Street Plaza, the elegance of City Hall, and finally, at the heart of the neighborhood we had come to see, the astoundingly well kept Victorian-era Van Vorst Park.
I was immediately taken by the rows of brownstones that surrounded the park, reminding me more of the Cosbys’ neighborhood than any notion I had of Jersey. Steph loved the fact that streets are lined with trees and the buildings reflect the obvious intention of the residents to beautify their homes. We explored down by the waterfront, walked the boardwalk along the Hudson River and took a short trip over to the vast open space that is Liberty State Park.
Within a few hours we paid a deposit and signed a lease for a one bedroom on the first floor of a brownstone building. As we sat in a local coffee shop and ate sandwiches, marveling at the range of emotions we had experienced in one morning, the inevitable line of questioning set in.
Questions one asks shortly after deciding to live in Jersey City: “So, can we still say we live in New York City? Do we have to say we live in Jersey now?” Steph asked. These questions had been on my mind as well, and all I had was more questions. “What will people think when we tell them we chose Jersey City? What will they assume about us?”
We’re coming up on a year here now. And in that year an amazing thing has happened: we’ve begun to make Chilltown our own, to proudly call it our home.
There is a feeling we try to describe to friends, but that they don’t understand until they visit. When we get off the PATH at Grove Street, we walk up the stairs, out of the station, into the open air of the plaza, and feel an unmistakable sense of peace. From the bustle of Manhattan, to our little corner of it all, there is that same experience of homecoming that we felt the first time we drove into town.
What Jersey City is really like: On our way home we might stop in at any of the bars or restaurants that, in good weather, spill out onto the sidewalks, tables full, depending on the time, with people unwinding after work, couples out for a walk with their dog, or families surrounded by baby carriages and young children. Some days we feel we are in the vast minority, having neither a dog nor children. But we are so happy to enjoy seeing the dogs and children of our neighbors.
Minor inconveniences related to living in Jersey City: Though our commute is short (seven minutes to the World Trade Center, 20 minutes to 33rd Street) and the PATH generally takes us where we want to go (downtown or the Village), if we want to go anywhere north of Herald Square we have to transfer to the MTA, and there is no free transfer from the PATH. We still often have to explain exactly where it is we live, sometimes bringing up the map on my phone to locate us in relation to Manhattan, and it is a lot more difficult to get people to visit us because they have to cross not only the Hudson, but the much wider psychological gap between there and here.
Becoming Jersey City Evangelists: Excepting those things, we have found a sense of home here that we didn’t expect to find anywhere outside of our beloved Boston. And, with this piece as evidence, we’ve become what I call “Jersey City Evangelists,” spreading the good news to any and all who will listen, though Steph is a bit more hesitant. “We don’t want everybody to move here,” she reminds me.
But why not? There’s plenty of space and, unlike many other places in the area, the perpetual construction of condo and apartment buildings continues even in the midst of this recession.
So, check out Jersey City. You may find that unique sense of homecoming that we experienced. At the very least you’ll enjoy some amazing Manhattan skyline and Statue of Liberty views, some good food and music.
And don’t worry: if you decide to move here, you’ll get used to telling people that Jersey is not all gas stations and strip malls.
I’m in love with these Aussie shoes (so is this guy)….apparently they’re only available down under :(
