Shake Off All That Hate

Last weekend I moved...finally. No more bed-stuy. This is good because the laws of probability are real my friends, and I was starting to feel like they were about to come after me.

On my way home after being offered my new apartment, waiting patiently for the train at broadway junction, I saw a crazy-looking lady and was thankful that we were walking across the platform in opposite directions. The train pulled up and I stepped inside the car. Who happened to sit directly across from me? Yes...it was her. Without looking up, I felt her eyes slicing into me. I started thinking that this wasn't going to turn out well for me. We exited the car at the same stop, but through different doors and then headed up the stairs. And that's when she started, "You little white xxxxx. You creamy-xxx xxxxxx-xxxxxx." etc, etc. And she was picking up speed, walking towards me. I tried ignoring her and just going through the turnstyle. I headed for the stairs up to the street when I got the feeling she might swing at me or pull me down the stairs by the back of my head. I turned back around and hid out for a bit next to the station attendant until I could no longer hear her raging mouth.

I have had many racist and angry things shouted at me in the three months I lived there, but this was the first time I actually felt threatened. More than anything I usually just felt unwelcome.

I am now off the Grand stop on the L and so very pleased. It's only been a few days, but already life seems significantly easier.

Bit by bit, I slowly make progress, swimming like salmon.

Like a Monkey w/ a Miniature Cymbal

Yay!!! My lease is almost up! I can finally escape.

Boo!!! Finding an apartment in NYC is sooo difficult and exhausting.

I keep going to look at places. Some look like jail cells located in a basement w/ cement floors, a "cool" backyard with weeds up to your waste and a cat that was never mentioned on the wonderful world of craigslist. Others are beautiful, great location, convenient, but then there is the bit of a weirdo you would be living w/ who is worried you might cook too much, forget to take off your shoes before you come in the door, or that you might want to sit in the kitchen and eat what took you too long to cook.

Many times I've looked at apartments in an open house situation. That is uncomfortable. Am I in the jungle or at the mall on Black Friday? The claws come out, the voices get louder, the questions and statements get more to the point and matter of fact. You hope that if you liked the place that something about yourself was memorable enough that they might offer it to you.

Trivia Q: What is everyone who is looking for a new roommate or a new room?


answer: "kcab dial"

Are you really? Am I really? Only time will tell. (spooky laugh follows)

It was a Vampire Weekend.

Friday I went to one of the oldest bars in NYC- McSorleys. The place has never been dusted. Above the rough wooden bar hangs a neglected furry light fixture. Hey wait...are those wishbones hanging from there? Yes. The story goes that before men went off to war, they would come in for a meal and hang their turkey bone one the chandelier. When they returned home from service they would take it down. The light was full of them. How sad...

Saturday morning at Union Square. Eating a peach on a bench when The Amazing Race is going on before my eyes. The lady a couple benches over was one of their check-points. P.S.- for those of you who didn't know...Erin and sent in a try-out tape and application for the show. No call backs.

Saturday afternoon on my way to see Vampire Weekend @ the East River Amphitheater, I stop in Chinatown to grab a Vita Chrysanthemum Tea juice box. I had heard it was the best (It was okay, but maybe not THE best). Vamp W: I loved it, loved it, loved it. And so did everyone in the GAP commercial down by the stage. I say this b/c they were all dancing wildly at three in the afternoon, w/ no drinks, and were all totally lovely. A butterball in the audience basted himself in the sun w/ his own sweat, daring to further his "I fell asleep in the sun" fried skin stretched tightly across his hard Purdue Belly.. Picnics in the grass. Kids running up and down the amphitheater stairs. Woah...Is that John Mcenroe? No, but almost. Ben, from your description I'd say this fellow nabbed your pale yellow shorts. While I'm sure he had love for his absent racket, he showed much love and respect for his skateboard, leaving it outside the porta-potty by its lonesome during a stop.

Post Vamp W Bloody Mary---Killer! All-American Will eats a hot dog, later thumb restles a painted plaster italian chef statue, and does a cartwheel in front of a moving taxi. We ask bouncers in front of enormous wooden doors which Wizard of Oz characters we are. The big ol' bouncer claims he is OZ. I bust out push ups in an empty club and crip walk in front of American Apparel as "man on bench" shouts, "Snoop Doggy Dog!" Awesome bubble-blowin' kids at Misshapes.

Chandler and I make plans for Bread Stuy (in Bed-Stuy). I am tuning out the comment, "Why do women like bread so much." Anyways...very exciting, but we just haven't made it yet. And that about wraps it up and catches you up, so keep yer heads up.

P.S. A haircut, I beg of you!! Please Anna, I need your help.

Lastly: 2 Fams Unite. Yeah, Meg! Yeah, Jas! (w/ a long "a" of course).

Dish out Dough for a Dish

Down spring street you'll find two perfectly adorable little places to treat yourself some fine afternoon: Pinkberry & Rice to Riches.

The first sells yogurt w/ a billion toppings to chose from to mix w/ it. Bo, a fellow designer fancies a deadly trio of kiwi, blueberries, and cocoa puffs on her yogurt.

The second sells a million flavors of rice pudding. Janet, another fellow designer goes nuts for the cappuccino flavor.

Cute is a four-letter word.

Take The Long Way Home

Yes Supertramp, sometimes I do indeed. Not today though, but let's discuss. I live in a far away place with dragons, fairies, fried chicken, and block parties. This lovely place is nestled in charming Bed-Stuy. I am almost at Broadway Junction, where the L, J, A, and C trains meet in Brooklyn.

I normally take the C train, you remember Charlie, right? It's fine, usually works through the week, but almost never late at night or on weekends due to track work. Sometimes A is Charlie's substitute, a dirty ugly train. If Hopstop tells me so, I will take J, a bit of a walk and sometimes invites more dirty looks and rude comments along the way. The J is older and uglier than A, and it's slower, I swear.

But if I have the time and can avoid most of these letters, I will take the L any day, all day long. It's cold, clean, pretty, fast, and has a calming electronic voice that announces stops you otherwise have'nt a chance of understanding, and a couple light up maps in each car to show you stops and which one you are at. Lovely. It goes a little out of my way, past my stop, but isn't it worth it? Sigh. "Why can't you be more like your brother?, Why can't you be more like your sister?", some parents may inquire. But I ask you and everyone at MTA, "Why can't all trains be more like the L?"

Sun_Day in the Life

Woke up, I felt my best.
Dragged a comb across my chest.
Down 2 the Hudson & propped my feet up.
As I warmed up, I noticed I was great.
Found my shorts & grabbed my sax,
Need to tune, that note was flat.
Sat up on the rail. Arpeggios.
Payed in Cheerios & I'm livin' a dream.


Sunday Night Yum: I made huevos rancheros. A Mexican miracle!

T to the RAIN

Blame it on C train, not comin' not comin'
Blame it on the cars, with crazies at night
Whatever you do, don't take the one or two
Blame it on the trains yeah, yeah
You can blame it on the trains

Great New Weightloss Program!

It's called No Air Conditioning. My loaner A/C is now back in its owner's hands. What's a girl to do? Can I last the rest of the summer w/out it? Am I being a big fat baby?

Yowsers...I just jacked three of Snow's buddies: sneezy/stuffy/itchy. I'm starting to think that I'm allergic to my roommates cat. I don't understand, I grew up always having dog/s. Why now? Will this allergy include all pets? I was dreaming about my next apt including a big fluffy dog. I miss Joe.

Double-header: Part II

On the steps of this little "park" on the corner, I wait for my second interview to begin. Pigeons. They seriously freak me out. I kept trying to shew them away, but there's no hope. A guy in front of me said, "They're everywhere! They're like rats w/ wings." I concur. So Burt, what's the deal? Why the love?

Interview #2 (interpret that how you like): "So uh...yude be doin' graphick teez foruh juniuh an misses apparuhl. Work onuh coupluh designs and sendem tumi. Think trendee, hahd coor, uh...rahk an rowell. Or uh...you cann come up with some clevuh phrases. Like this wun...there wuzuh drawrin uvuh cat withuhnevil grin and it seduh, 'If you wanna friend, getta duwog,' ya know? We like owa designs to be layuhd, like it hasuh meanin' to it. Here, itz morahbout art than fashion."

You get the idea. Pumpin' out t-shirts as bizarre as greeting cards. "Hmmm...that's something I might say...I like rainbows and ponies..." Creating "art" on cotton for the masses just might not be my cup of tea and that is OK. It's getting easier to see what I'm not supposed to be doing with my life.

P.S. And they work on mac minis. Supuh hahd coor.

Double-header: Part I

Interview at Amalgamated. All planned out & somehow, things go south. Checked HopStop before I left & it gave me a different route than i had planned w/ a longer transit time. Ran out the door. Needed to go to W30th st, but stuck in my head was W40th st. Looking for #145 and I see a Blimpie that's 143 and the chinese place next door is 147. Hmmm...Crap. I'm an idiot. If that were right I would have been punctual. Now 10 blocks away and I have to turn my phone back on to call and say I'll be late. I grab a taxi, put on my dressy shoes, and never turn my phone off again. I get there, apologize for being tardy, go through my book and realize i forgot my posters, then my freakin phone rings. Is this a joke? What is my problem? Ok, so despite all the trouble I still think it went well. Faun seems really nice, the place has a good feel to it, and she responded really positively to my work, but it might be at least a few weeks before I here anything on this one.

What's that gold 'round yo neck?

Its a chain, the leader of our friday night train. Kelly, Will, and I head to Manhattan for a party we are just not so sure about. It is one of his co-workers 30th b-day party. He said the invite was about 2 months ago and she'll be wearing a tiara. Girls w/ Tiara's usually scare me or make me laugh–either way I'm a little suspect. So we hang out this bar and we pick out a few songs on the juke box, which never seem to play until everyone starts singing happy birthday with a creepy mask of the b-day girl over their faces. Figures. Turns out Ellen, the b-day girl, is very nice, just extra excited about this b-day and her friends are tall blondes that look like they could kick my tush. We leave there and go another bar that was more dancey. Kind of like a NYC version of DMFN (dance music for nerds). Much fun.

Taste Test

Kelly and I w/ spent feet decide to keep on and get a slice with her friend Jonathan. After that we started the real evening at the Turkey's nest in Williamsburg, a dive bar for the locals. There were a lot of dudes, the ratio was way off. I think maybe just out of baseball practice from the park? There was an old black lady with no hair at the juke box in red china flats with sock with pink bunnies or something on them. She was picking some soulful classics. She kept dancing by herself in front of the box, waving arms and a foot stomp now and then when things got extra soulful.

Another friend joined us–Laura. She said she saw an open bar a couple doors down. So we left the dive and with two scrawny guys standing outside with arms folded, we asked "what's goin' on here?" They replied, "Well, do you like crunk." We weren't actually sure but we said we were and headed inside. Quite a change of pace. Now we are the minority, music is good and the place is kind of neat. The DJ stops and two girls start rapping. Everyone is going nuts! Lovin' it. Then the break-dancing begins.

Ready for something new, we head a few more doors down to another bar with something very strange to offer– A free pizza with every drink. And now we are all exhausted. Time for that long train ride. We wake some kid up at station so he doesn't miss the train. He is from Iowa and won't stop talkin' to us Caroliners about grits. Not only am I not a good ninja, but I'm also not a good southerner. I have had grits once and they were a no-go. The other night Will's friends asked me if I also ate chicken and waffles. I don't even know what that means. I have never heard of that absurd combo. Is that a southern tradition? Got me...

Not Everyone Is Cut Out To Be A Ninja

Bad ninja, bad. I had no idea what I had gotten myself into. Nauto and I lurk in the shadows. The elevator doors open and another group of spiffy diners steps in the dim room w/ a view of 2 doors in front of them. "Hiya!" And they're startled. "You have two choices: the easy way or the ninja passage way." Gee...which do you think they picked? Yup. They are led into the darkness, across a bridge, along a winding path. "Hiya!" Startled again and then step into "ninja village". They are led to their table/room and shut in with the sliding doors. "Gomay!" and a bow with each visit to the table. Everything is theatrical. A lame attraction at a theme park–the ones people only go to to sit in air conditioning for a while– beautiful setting, horrible cheese-ball acting. So I think we all know that this is out my character. The day after my first night of work I called to quit. First job in NY–check. A humorous story–check. Do you recall that J.Lo song "Waiting for Tonight"? R-rr-r-remix. "Ninja for one night" You hear that?

Rewind...

Ok...so, back to saturday: I meet Lorna and Will in SOHO. Lorna and I: green wearers with minty-colored, pistachio-flavored gelato. Will: new mint-soled kicks. We're three lucky stripes on an easter egg.

The trains are totally messed up. Soo annoying. I leave Union Square with a perky bouquet of basil from the green market. I arrive home with a sad, droopy bunch. Boo.

Sunday: lazy. But then a call. I'm going to be a ninja. But seriously, An interview at 5pm in TriBeCa at Ninja New York. I go down the elevator, to the right, and into the rock garden. We talk and I'm asked to stay and learn my table #'s. Yikes...this place, besides the rock garden has 22 private rooms (each table has it's own room) that wind around in a confusing maze. It is beautiful, low lit and elegant. I have to wear a black ninja suit. Oh geez...this is going to be silly. I start Tuesday night. I hope I won't be a spaz.