New York

It was a very good day.

kristy8 Comments

My life got a whole lot better a couple of weeks ago.

It all started when I called a podiatrist to schedule an appointment.

‘Doctor’s office,’ said a disgruntled voice with a thick New York accent. It sounded like this: DOC-tah’s ah-fiss.

I wondered if I was being scammed, but I’d found the ‘DOC-tah’s ah-fiss’  through my insurance company, so I crossed my fingers and made an appointment.

On the day of my appointment, I felt apprehensive. But mostly I felt foot pain. It was hard to remember having a day without foot pain since last July, so I headed to see the ‘DOC-tah’ I hoped would be a podiatrist.

On the way, I passed a grocery store with a sign suggesting it only carries

* FROZEN FOOD

* KOSHER FOOD

This pretty much sums up New York’s food culture. Just add halal food trucks, Boar’s Head brand deli products, a fruit stand, and a cupcake shop.

***BEE BEEP BEE BOOP BOOP. WE INTERRUPT THIS BLOG POST FOR AN IMPORTANT MESSAGE ABOUT NEW YORK CITY CUPCAKES.***

I’ve decided New York has an acceptable cupcake-to-kristy ratio. Dreamy, wispy Magnolia cupcakes; minimalist Sprinkles; Hunky Crumbs, Neon cart cupcakes, artisanal Brooklyn beer cupcakes, teeny adorable Melissa‘s cupcakes (thumbcakes, I call them) and every cupcake in between…New York’s got cupcakes on lock. I wouldn’t be surprised if it had the most cupcakes per capita in the world. Long-live New York Cupcakes!

***BEE BEEP BEE BOOP BOOP. NOW BACK TO REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING.***

Walking in the Lower East Side, I wondered how I’d be able to tell if the doctor’s office was a sham. Probably when they took out my kidney, I decided.

Then, I saw the sign. For the podiatrist’s office. A pretty little wrought iron stand planted in green grass behind green bushes. I passed a womyn smoking a cigarette and stepped inside where I heard the familiar ‘DOC-tah’s Ah-fiss’. (Do you think she does it on purpose, to temper expectations?)

I filled out forms, in a darling waiting room with blue tufted chairs, and gave them to the receptionist who was shocked I’d made the trek all the way from Brooklyn. It was actually the closest podiatrist to me, but I tried to look as though I felt I deserved a medal. It’s not every day someone looks at me with awe or incredulity, so I say milk it for all you can.

Done admiring me, she ushered me to the exam room. The doc’s first words were, ‘Pretend you didn’t just see me smoking out there’, and I liked her right away (not because of the smoking; because of the gruff New York frankness). I liked her even more after she told me she’d ordered special doggie take-out for her dog and that it smelled ‘better than [her] lunch!’

I may have learned as much about her bichon frisée as I did about my foot condition. I also learned that the doctor is from Brooklyn, but since she left for college, she’s never looked back. I think this is quite a feat, considering that she lives and works five minutes from Brooklyn. However, the longer I live in New York City, the more accustomed I grow to meeting the Staunch Manhattanites. They love their borough and they hate leaving it. If you’ve seen the Sex and the City episode where Miranda meets the man who hasn’t left Manhattan in a decade and has no plans of venturing out, you know what I’m talking about. That character is not an exaggeration.

My Staunchly Manhattan Podiatrist turned out not to be a kidney-harvester after all, and she gave me a surprising diagnosis. Apparently, my foot problems are the fault of my feet’s high arches and my shoes’ inadequate arch support. It is very difficult to find the support my feet need because my arches are soooooo high! I’d been trying to wear flats and tennis shoes to alleviate the pain, but the doctor explained that the best shoes for my feet are actually heels and wedges. That’s right, anonymous blog reader, I was prescribed my favorite kinds of shoes! (I subscribe to the theory of gender performativity, but if ever there was a case for gender essentialism…)

I’m probably going to get custom-made insoles so that I can wear all kinds of shoes like normal people do. Until then, I’m happy wearing my cork wedges. And in case you think my diagnosis was a bunch of hooey, consider this: I went to the podiatrist a whole twenty days ago.  Since then, I have followed her advice and been free of foot pain for the first time in ten months!  I went from taking acetaminophen (Tylenol) at least once a day to forgetting such a medicine exists. I no longer count my steps. I am free of foot pain, and it is glorious! Thank you, doc-tah, and thank you, wedges.

I left the podiatrist’s after taking a picture of myself looking triumphant in the bathroom and concluding that, except for the receptionist’s greeting, this podiatrist’s office is all charm.

Then, I caught the subway at a newly-renovated station with a nautical theme and went to work. I’m working at a vegetarian restaurant where I get free food, and it is delicious.


You can’t tell from the picture how lovely the blue and white is. I’ll try to get a better shot next time I’m there.

Hope your feet are in tip-top shape,
kristy


It was a very good day.

It’s springtime in Brooklyn, and I have the Instagram pictures to prove it.

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I’m head-over-heels for my new tote bag. Can you say ‘arm candy’?!
One of my neighbors is a secret gardener.
Across the East River lies a magical land called Manhattan, where cartons of orange juice cost at least $2.50 (according to the man who charged me $1.75 for a tiny carton of orange juice in Brooklyn).
If you must go to that overpriced borough, take the East River Ferry. That way you can get a closer look at the Williamsburg Bridge. 
Speaking of Williamsburg, this guy’s been driving around. Score one for subtle advertising.
Tasha’s style is having no trouble with the winter-spring transition.
Meanwhile, I’m trying my darndest to delude myself into believing I can pull off tennis shoes.

That’s all for now. Cross your fingers that I get to see a podiatrist soon, so I can go back to wearing tennis shoes only when I want to wear tennis shoes (i.e. never!).

It’s springtime in Brooklyn, and I have the Instagram pictures to prove it.

Guest Post: The Search for NYC’s Best Shake, Part II

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I have a method for finding something specific to do in New York City. I search for whatever I want to do on Google or Yelp, look at the top five results and pick one without giving it too much thought. It’s a lot like plugging your nose and jumping into the pool. I’m a toe-dipper, myself; but you guys, New York is big. If you attempt to use the toe-dip method, you will get stuck. I repeat: you will get stuck.

And so it came to pass that on my birthday morning, Devin and I found ourselves at the top-rated restaurant in Yelp’s weekday breakfast & brunch category. And Devin found himself drinking a milkshake at nine o’clock in the morning. The things that man does for the sake of science, I tell you!

Here’s his review. (Note: Dev uses a 1-5 scale, with 1 being the least and 5 being the best.)

Clinton St. Baking Company & Restaurant

While the food at Clinton Street Baking Co. was great, the shake was a bust. I’m not sure if it was cheap ice cream or skim milk (I would not go so far as to accuse them of using ice), but this shake was bland.

Devin evaluates the presentation.

FLAVOR: 2 – It’s a bad sign when the whipped cream has as much flavor as the shake.
CONSISTENCY: 3 – The menu calls it a classic extra thick shake, but it’s more like extra thick chocolate milk. Not a soup, but nothing special.
PRESENTATION: 3 – While glass is good, if you are going to use the old fashioned diner-style, you should include the steel mixing cup with the extra shake. Everybody loves a bonus.
AMBIANCE: 4 – Bustling and lots of natural light, we had a nice brunch but did have to wait 30 minutes outside for a seat.
ETHICS: – Aah…I forgot to ask.
OVERALL VALUE: 2 – At more than $6, this is not much shake with not much flavor for your money.

‘No shake left unfinished!’
Guest Post: The Search for NYC’s Best Shake, Part II

The time I turned twenty-three

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This year I spent my birthday feeling a little out of sorts. All of my very best friends in New York gave me lovely presents and surprises, but for most of the day I was alone in this big city I am trying to call home.

I felt like I should feel lucky to have the day off on my birthday—a Tuesday, no less—and I should be happy exploring New York by myself, because I have always dreamed of living here and now I do. But the truth is, I felt lonely and overwhelmed despite my best efforts to feel otherwise.

This led to me getting upset with myself for not being happier, more thankful, more well-adjusted. It went like this: first, I got upset at myself for not feeling like a New Yorker and for wondering if I’m not cut out for this place after all. Then, I got upset at myself because isn’t living in New York and hating it the biggest cliché of all?

This emotional catch-22 lasted until I talked to a girl on her way to get a tattoo symbolic of her hometown. She told me she was moving back home after living here for a year and wanted to get something to remind her that she’d come to New York for a reason. ‘It wasn’t to live here; it was to realize how much I love home.’

Just writing that puts me at ease. When I mulled it over, I realized the reason I came to New York was to grow. I may not have a favorite restaurant or a dream job, but I am certainly learning something and striving to be a better person every day. And this is exactly what I want my life to be about.

When I think about my twenty-third birthday, I hope I’ll remember this lesson…and one of my favorite birthday parties ever. (It happened the Friday after my birthday, which was a MUCH happier day.)

Do you want to see pictures?

Anda and Tasha helped me put up these streamers.
Most of the food and flowers came from the Union Square farmers’ market! All the drinks were sparkly.
This is my soul in cake form.
Everyone ate and talked and had fun (I hope). Some people made hats and drawings. I got to see friends I hadn’t seen in ages!
There was the traditional singing of ‘Happy Birthday’ followed by the traditional blowing out of candles.
I finally found a birthday dress the day before my party! I’ve written before about my clothing politics and am proud to report this is a vintage find. That belt, also vintage, is one of my first attempts at accessorizing. Do you want to know what the buckle is?
A horse!

Thanks to Jess and Tasha for the majority of these pictures.  Thanks to all my friends and family for a terrific birthday, overall.

The time I turned twenty-three

My Funny Valentines

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On Valentine’s Day, I got to be an extra in an ad. The ad was for whiskey, but we were actually sipping on a mixture of apple juice and coffee. (Delicious and avant-garde! Sure to be a hit at your next brunch!)

I arrived at the photo shoot and immediately liked two of my fellow extras. They were funny and gregarious! They were not too cool to talk to me! Throughout the shoot, I lamented my lack of friend-making savvy. If only I were more like my mother blah blah, etc.

Thankfully, one of the extras suggested we go to my favorite coffee shop after the shoot. When we got there, the barista took one look at me and, before I could say “soy latté,” he asked me if I was Kristy. I am Kristy, but I had no clue who he was. “It’s been a while…” he trailed off, leaving me with no choice but to stammer, “Yeah—um—who—I don’t recognize…”

“I’m [generic boy name with interesting spelling].”

Cue the memory montage of meeting [generic boy name with interesting spelling] at a Cat Power show, being serenaded on the guitar to Elliott Smith and Bob Dylan, hearing about his passion for latté art and his dream of working at a snobby coffee shop (mission accomplished). It all ended with him reading me a farewell letter from his Moleskin notebook at a bus stop, asking to kiss me, & yelling, “Miss you already!” as I boarded the bus.

I should clarify that this epic saga lasted all of two and a half weeks during which we saw
each other three times. But! If I leave out that part (and the minor detail that we just weren’t that into each other), I think I have the perfect indie love story on my hands.

I mean, what are the chances of running into each other four years later on the opposite coast of the country? And did I mention that he made a perfect latté art heart on my drink?! (Everyone else got platonic palm fronds.) Tweak the ending to happily ever after, add “handwritten” titles & credits along with a sweet indie pop soundtrack. Ta-dah, love story of our times.

Please advise me on how to sell a movie idea to a major studio. Aesthetically, it should be a mix between The Science of Sleep and 500 Days of Summer. I’d like Emily Haines to do the soundtrack. I’d also like it to be teeming with product placement and for much money to be given to me. Please and thank you.

Back to the pretentious coffee house of my dreams, I sat there dumbfounded and tried to look normal while getting to know my new friends. A few minutes later my phone buzzed thanks to my cousin Vanessa, who asked if I wanted tickets to the Harlem Globetrotters. This turned out to be the perfect way to cement a friendship as my new friends were totally down to see the globe’s best b-ball team!

So, let’s recap: on Valentine’s Day I learned that it’s easy to make friends. All it takes is getting a job as an extra in an ad, going to your favorite coffee shop with other extras, having a weird experience, and getting free tickets to a comedic basketball game just in time to invite your potential friends. Um yeah, I’m still mystified. Please advise me on how to make friends.

Also, does anyone have coffee shop recommendations in Williamsburg? I have to find a new favorite.

My Funny Valentines

Guest Post: The Best Shake in NYC

kristy, , 5 Comments

If you’ve been reading the blog for a while or know me in real life, you’ve heard of my partner Devin. I haven’t yet written a super lovey romantic post about him because ewww. Maybe someday I’ll figure out how to write a public love letter without simultaneously blushing and vomiting, but for now, let me just tell you one thing.

Once upon a summer of 2009, Devin came to Mexico to meet my family. One night while having dinner in the Copper Canyon, my mom asked him what his favorite food was. Without hesitation, he said, ‘Milkshake.’ My mother was aghast (milkshakes are not food!). Dev quickly corrected himself and claimed the Mexican burrito* as his favorite, but this was a shameless lie! His foremost loyalty is––and will always be––to the milkshake.

That’s why when we passed this sign in November, I interpreted it as a challenge for my favorite milkshake connoisseur.

Oh yeah?

It was thus decided that every time we pass a restaurant that boasts having ‘the best shake in NYC,’ Devin must attempt to verify that claim through a rigorous taste test! Below find Devin’s first review. (Note: Dev uses a 1-5 scale, with 1 being the worst and 5 being the best.)

* Mexican burritos are not the size of a human baby and do not have rice or other weird toppings. Just beans on a reasonably-sized tortilla. Mmmm!

brgr

(A milkshake review by Devin)

After our Thanksgiving trip to Philadelphia, we stopped at brgr in Midtown near where the Megabus left us. We really had no choice; their window advertised that they were ‘Voted Best Shake.’ Granted their award was for some berry concoction, but no award in the world could affect my shake order. It’s chocolate every time. brgr calls it “the Black & White,” but don’t fear; this is a classic chocolate shake.
 
brgr’s Black & White shake

FLAVOR: 4 – Bonus points for leaving some marbled veins of chocolate sauce but mostly mixed.
CONSISTENCY: 5 – Solid, solid, solid. 30 seconds upside down, and this shake doesn’t budge, yet it glides effortlessly up the straw; perfect.
PRESENTATION: 2 – We dined in, but brgr only has plastic cups. Not glass, not compostable. Not styrofoam, but still, not classy.
AMBIANCE: 4.5 – I like this place. Despite being new and a little fast food-y, the high ceiling has beautiful exposed beams and the single-person bathrooms are marked “vegetarian” and “carnivore.”
ETHICS: 4 – local and grass-fed = fresh and tasty, but I’m not sure their chocolate is fair trade.
OVERALL VALUE: 4 – At more than $5, brgr’s shakes are not cheap, but as I said, it’s a solid 16 oz, and I’d say that we got our money’s worth of chocolaty creamy goodness.

Guest Post: The Best Shake in NYC

2011 in review

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Hi, everyone! I’m still visiting my family in Mexico. Today is Día de Reyes, the last day of the holiday season here, which means I absolutely have to post my year-in-review post and stop listening to Christmas carols riiiiight now.

January

The year started with my cousin Carol’s wedding!

I got to help teach kindergarteners about Martin Luther King, Jr. and social justice.

Devin and I dressed up as ‘American Gothic’ in sepia for a costume party.

February

My housemates and I took family pictures thanks to our fearless leader Hallie!

We’ve never been a Valentine’s Day couple, but this year Devin surprised me with my favorite cake! Here we are making a toast: Dev is holding my little glass of soymilk, and I’m holding his giant bottle of local organic cow’s milk. (We are a caricature. And how!)

I celebrated my birthday with brunch at The Nines.

 March

March was a hard month because my grandmother passed away. I felt fortunate to be able to fly home and see my family, but it was hard.

When I was little my grandmother would take me to Mass and out for ice cream afterward. I told Devin about our tradition, and he took me to do just that in memory of my Abbita.

I had to spend Spring Break in the library working on my thesis.

…but I did get to go skiing on Mt. Hood!

I almost ruined Anda’s surprise birthday party. Thank goodness I didn’t! It was in our old dorm, and the pizza was delicious, and her sister baked a cake.

April

In April, I finished doing the fieldwork for my thesis. Doing fieldwork was fun and rewarding, but it meant I had to spend a lot of time waiting at bus stops in the rain (totally worth it).

When I wasn’t doing fieldwork, I was in the library. Devin was a dear. He brought me like a million library dinners.

This is my favorite picture from April. Nate’s glasses were foggy.

May

I finally finished my thesis!

My dream of sharing Portland with my mom (again) and my two aunts (for the first time) came true! Here are the mamis and me at my favorite coffee shop! 

Dev & my mom got me a new computer for graduation! 

Before we parted ways, Melissa & Anda & I gathered for one final brunch. It was yummy, but I am still baffled: why didn’t we go to our usual spot?

June

At my first grown-up job in downtown Portland, I discovered the joys of the grown-up lunch break!

The best show I saw all summer was the Rock ‘n Roll Camp For Girls Spring Showcase.

In Wisconsin I discovered a breathtakingly beautiful bakery. The walls were covered with vintage recipe cards! 

July

July was a big month, so brace yourself for lots of pictures!

Fourth of July was so much fun! The weather finally turned summery, and I feel like I hung out with fifty-three friends the whole weekend! Also, my hair looks like Cocker Spaniel ears in this picture.

I got to live with my friend Nora all summer! Her birthday party was Kreayshawn-themed. This is one of my favorite pictures ever for the following reasons: a) Nora rules, b) it showcases our perfectly 90s kitchen, & c) you can see all our spices because the cabinet door fell off its hinges.

Dev & I had a going-away party where everything was local (we even made sure our guests were real-life, actual Portlanders!).

Devin & I gave each other watches to mark our engagement!

I had to say bye to Devin AND the kristy dreambike (they took a train to the East Coast).

August

Before I left Portland, I discovered what an artichoke in bloom looks like.

Then, I went to Texas to do fun Texas things, by which I mean I went to the mall with my mom. A lot.

I bid farewell to my summer hair at Shampoo before moving to New York.

 September

This was our building in Park Slope. It was pretty, but Anda, Marika, & I had to share a one-bedroom with an enormous pitbull who only ate raw chicken.

When my mom made me evacuate New York for September 11th, I found a brunch place that matched my dress.

Seriously, it matched my dress perfectly!

October

I fell head-over-heels in love with my new Subway stop!

Grand Central & I started to feel like pals.

This was my favorite sign at Occupy Wall Street.

November

I spent most of the month taking care of my mom post-surgery. The best part of the day was sharing breakfast in her bed.

I also spent a lot of time with Laisha.

I was going to have to skip Thanksgiving, but thanks to the genius of Dev & the East Coast’s adequate train infrastructure (rest of the States, get with it!), I flew to Baltimore & reached Philadelphia by train just in time for dinner with Devin’s family. Here we are with Grandma Pat!

December

I marched for Voting Rights!

My first Christmastime in the cityyyyy! (You cannot imagine how many times I sang that one. Quietly. To myself. Alone. I’m not that annoying.)

Then, I spent Christmas with my whole family, where I had so much fun that I forgot to take pictures. This one of some wimyn, a girl, & THE baby in the family comes to us courtesy of my cousin.

2011, thank you for the lessons & good times. You are dismissed.

2011 in review

My Christmas Tree

kristy, 2 Comments

Merry Christmas, Christmas-celebrators! I hope you are all having a wonderful day. I was inspired by blogger Natalie Holbrook to write about my Christmas tree. You can read that short essay below.

After graduating from college, I packed my life into four suitcases, said goodbye to a lot of my shoes, and moved across the country to live with three of my favorite friends in New York City! I couldn’t wait to have my first adult apartment and decorate my first grown-up Christmas tree.

However, after six months of an unsuccessful search for a Real Job and two months of an unsuccessful search for a couch small enough to fit through our apartment’s tiny front door,* I decided it would be imprudent to buy one. I suppose a living room without a couch would have allowed the tree to be the center of attention, and I’m sure that stripped-down-modern-Christmas feeling appeals to some. But for me, a tree without a couch from which to contemplate it seemed sad and somehow symbolic of my lacking stable employment.

Besides, New York is practically the Official City of Christmas Trees. Being a resident, I reckoned I could pick a favorite and declare it mine. I thought of letting the Rockefeller Tree & the Madison Square Park Tree compete for my affection—although let’s be real, I’m an indoor gal. The Plaza would have probably won, no contest.

I was busy creating a mental tree scoresheet when, like all great things, my favorite tree found me.

Isn’t she a beaut?

She spotted me on my way to the Subway and declared, ‘Hey, I’m your New York tree!’

I like her because she is so New York. Not bright lights, big city New York, but my New York: a little neighborhood in Brooklyn where space is tight and you make do with what ya got. Scrappy New York! The proud feeling I get when I’m ducking and squeezing into a too-full Subway car or carrying fifteen pounds of groceries seven blocks to my two-story walk-up. When I look at my tree, she says, ‘You did it, girl. You’re here. Now quit lookin’. Don’t you have someplace you gotta be?’

* Seriously, if you know of any cheap, miniature, comfortable sofas, hit me up—the comfortable part is negotiable. We are desperate.
My Christmas Tree

Queens & Sheroes

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This is a post about my weekend, and I am going to attempt writing it in record time: seventeen minutes. Ready, go!

Oops, I just wasted three whole minutes contemplating Words With Friends.

Back on track!
Friday

On Friday, after my last day of work at my first job in New York, I had to wait an extra hour for my supervisor to sign off on my last timesheet. I guess she wanted the significance of the moment to really sink in.

Actually, she just forgot and went to do whatever it is people who work late on Fridays (by choice) do.

Regardless, the significance did sink in! I couldn’t wait to get home, rush to the laundromat, return home with clean clothes, meet Devin at Grand Central, and go out for A Night on the Town. ‘Maybe we can even get appetizers at a Fancy Restaurant during happy hour!,’ I thought to myself.

I left work and hustled to the train. I even ran down the stairs at the subway
stop—something I hardly ever do because in my head I hear my mami yelling, ‘No corras porque te caes!‘ Like Michelle Pfeiffer in One Fine Day, I made it onto the subway just in time.* I transferred to the J just as easily. And then I found myself in Queens for the very first time. Here are some observations about Queens.

1) People really like wearing logos in Queens.

2) Only two people sit while waiting for the train in Queens: a distinguished gentleman who wears spectacles on the end of his nose and a certified lazybones, me.

3) A strong matrifocal energy is surrounds you as soon as you enter the queendom!

I’d like to return to make aboveground observations, but for now, these will suffice. You probably know where this story is going. I ended up spending my Friday night doing laundry, and the closest I got to fancy appetizers was half a Kit Kat. Instead of meeting Devin at Grand Central, he met me at the wash-a-teria. It wasn’t all for naught, though. We met a little girl, let’s call her Kari, and her mami. Kari is 3 years old and super cool. We played with her baby doll, let’s call her Bebé because that is her name, and talked about the world. It was exciting! Maybe too exciting. Judging by her very wet green pants, Kari may or may not have had an accident. We are still not sure because when asked, Kari confidently said, ‘No. No me hice pipí.’ 

Saturday

On Saturday Devin and I ventured even farther outside Brooklyn. We went to Philadelphia to visit his grandmother, aunt, uncle, and super cool cousin. I was so happy to meet them all and could write a book about what lovely hosts they were and how much fun I had. There would have to be sequel about the food we were fed in Philadelphia (yum yum yum yum yum). No room in this blog post to do our trip justice, unfortunately, but I will say that Devin’s grandma has officially been inducted into my Sheroes Hall of Fame. It was inspiring to meet someone who is so loving and thoughtful. We had never met, but she has been sending me little presents for over two years! And now we play Words With Friends together. (I just started playing, and I need practice. Everybody, play with meeeee!)

Sunday

On Sunday I went to Occupy Wall Street to meet another shero, my college Admission Counselor. I hadn’t seen her since she interviewed me and told me about my now-alma mater. That was in 2006. She was so awesome and helpful. When my mom was scared for me to go to school so far way from home, my counselor offered to let my mom crash on her couch. That is how awesome she is and how much she puts into her job. Seeing her was almost surreal. I am really, really happy that she is still helping kids get to and make it through college. We were standing around catching up when we heard, ‘Mic check!’

A womyn directly in front of us announced that the legendary Judith Butler (feminist, post-structuralist philosopher) would be speaking…immediately. We sat down and got to hear her speak. Unbelievable! I took a picture, but my phone is being weird. I’ll try to post it later, but for now, watch her short speech.

To re-cap: seeing Judith Butler brings my shero count to 3 in 2 days. Talk about an inspiring weekend!

Somehow writing this ended up taking over twelve hours, and I really need to get ready because I’m going to the MoMA (!) for free (!!!). I hope you had a nice weekend, too.

P.S. SHOUTOUT TO MY NUMBER ONE READER: ISSY. NEXT TIME ON SENSITIVITYANDGRACE: SOME PICTURES I TOOK JUST FOR YOU. LOVE YOU, GRRRL!

*Disclaimer: I don’t remember if Pfeiffer’s character ever takes the subway, but she does a lot of running around. You get the idea.

Queens & Sheroes