Sunrise, Sunset
Considering my historical proclivity for causing myself serious bodily harm while doing physical activities, it will probably come as a shock to you that I have joined a co-ed sports team. It certainly came as a shock to me. Ok, to be fair, it’s not like I’ve taken up rugby or Australian football (which, by the way, looks like SO MUCH FUN). I have joined a Zogsports (
www.zogsports.com) softball team. I was thinking I’d have to do it all by myself too, but I was able to use my powers of persuasion to convince Lisa to join too! We joined the “very casual” league, which basically means you do a lot more drinking than actual playing softball. Which, if you know me or Lisa, is absolutely perfect. It should be a fun fall in New York City.
I saw Fiddler on the Roof last night on Broadway, and aside from the fact that I actually had to set foot in the hell that is Times Square, it was really great. The show was very well done, with the original choreography by Jerome Robbins (my hero ever since I saw West Side Story) intact. Harvey Firestein played the main roll and, to my great surprise, listening to his voice for three hours didn’t make me want to stab myself in the arm with a rusty knife. You can tell he absolutely loves being up there and commands the attention of the audience throughout the play. Great stuff.
Well, that’s about all there is in the land of Colleen right now. I’m heading to Danny’s later and we plan to have a run in Central Park, then dinner and Netflix will round out my quiet night. Don’t you worry though, he’s at the liquor store right now stocking up so even our quiet night can be crazy :-)
Fast Times at Capeside High
This past weekend was very uneventful. I spent a lot of time walking around Brooklyn and exploring. Walk out my front door, and you’re in Southeast D.C. Walk two blocks south, and it’s Dupont Circle. The Tea Lounge, which is part bar, part coffee/tea house, has been a favorite hangout of mine lately. They sell these Australian meat pies, which Danny tells me are nearly impossible to find in The States, so we stopped in for some meaty, flaky goodness. They tasted like gourmet Hot Pockets. I also inquired about a job there, just in case my funds should run dangerously low at some point. I have to say though, I am very happy with how I’m managing with my money. I might just survive on an assistant’s salary after all!
Saturday, Danny and I went for a nice, long walk around Central Park. It was during said walk that we discussed how not to become fat lards by eating better (1 bagel a week!) and exercising more. It’s tricky for me, because I can’t really join the gym near my apartment in Park Slope because I’ll be moving in a month, but this coming month is when I really need to get in shape, since I’m going to the beach the first week in September. Eeek! Today, I brought my workout clothes to work, and after work, I’m going to go running in Central Park. How cool is my life right now? I get to run in Central Park!
There has been an awful lot of sitting in front of the DVD player with my roommate, watching episodes of a certain teen drama these days. We are kind of on a roll, and we want to get to the end of the series soon so we can get back to our regular lives. It’s becoming a ritual…come home from work, make dinner, have a beer, watch a couple of episodes, bemoan the fact that Joey is so damn mean to Pacey, when he is, in fact, the perfect boyfriend, and yelling, “FOREHEAD!!” at the screen whenever Dawson shows up. I do think I need to get out more.
Countdown to the beach: 37 days!
A sobering experience
I grew up in the suburbs. Occasionally, I would venture into D.C. after dark, sometimes even to the more sketchy neighborhoods, if it meant getting to a great party at Velvet. But I’ve really never spent any significant amount of time in an urban environment. Just living in this Brooklyn neighborhood has been an eye-opening experience over the last two weeks. However, I was not prepared for what I saw last night.
I had gone to a happy hour in Union Square with Lisa and Jon, and was heading home on the 4 5 at around 9:30pm. I had to wait for about 15 minutes at a station in Brooklyn. While I was sitting on the bench, a man sat a bag in the seat next to me. It was clear plastic, and inside was one of those “hazardous medical waste” containers (the ones I’m always sure contain lanced tumors and bloody amputated arms – too many horror movies, I know). Anyway, the only relevance of the bag was that it made me take notice of the man who had been carrying it. He was maybe 27 or 28, wearing a wife-beater t-shirt and jeans, shaved head, and had a brand new, still bleeding swastika tattoo on his arm. I then noticed nearby there was a woman with a child. The boy was maybe 4 years old, and smiling and laughing. His mother was absolutely out of her mind on drugs. She had dirt under her fingernails and sores all over her arms, not to mention track marks from whatever needles she had been putting in them. She kept stumbling around the subway platform, pulling and pushing the child around with her, yelling at him if he got distracted and stood still for too long. Well, it didn’t take long to figure out that this little boy’s father was the Nazi shithead with the bag next to me. The woman kind of lazily followed him around on the platform. The man occasionally would stop walking and start angrily punching the concrete pylon like he was boxing.
I felt sad, scared, and really pissed at the same time. The saddest part was knowing that this little 4 year old boy was probably destined to have just as fucked-up a life as his parents obviously did. His father would teach him intolerance, and his mother would teach him that it's okay to solve problems by injecting shit into your arm. It was a big dose of reality for me, realizing that this stuff not only exists, but for the first time I am in extremely close proximity to it. I don’t think that was the last time I will see something like that. It does a lot to jolt you out of the little middle class bubble you live in, and makes you realize that there’s a reason people form organizations and programs to help lower income people and families break the cycle that causes their children and their children’s children to live this destructive lifestyle. I’ve never felt more content with my liberal political position, realizing the importance of helping people to help themselves through programs sponsored using government money. It’s important, and after seeing something like that last night, I can’t think of anything more important.
resisting the temptation for another title referencing HP6
I’m fairly sure that Peeves the poltergeist has vacated Hogwarts School and is currently residing in my apartment.
There is a small room off the kitchen in my apartment in which the tenants keep a refrigerator, an old electric piano painted hot pink, and Fabian, my beloved iMac. Last night, I got on the computer to check the route I was to take to the subway (the practically useless 2 3 train to the Upper West Side). I had turned on the fan and light in the room. As I walked back into the living room, I heard a sound like a champagne glass breaking. I looked all over the kitchen, and in the hallway, but saw nothing. Then, I happened to look over in the room in which I had just been sitting. One of the light bulbs in the fan lamp had exploded. Literally. The bulb had turned completely black and was now burning a hole in the linoleum floor exactly where I had been sitting moments before. Had I been sitting at the computer just a minute or so longer, I would have a hole burned in my head right now. Not pleasant. I love my abode.
Lisa and I are signing up for the zog sports league’s softball team in the fall. It will be a blasty-blast! We are going to be on the “very casual” league, so if we suck (which we will), we won’t be alone. Also, everyone goes out drinking after games. How cool is that?
I did not get enough sleep last night and the only thing that’s keeping me awake right now is an iced triple grande skim no whip white mocha. I’m proud to be an American for at least one reason: Seattle-based stores which sell addictive stimulants on every street corner in America. Lee Greenwood forgot to put that part in his song.
Won't You Be My Neighbor?
So a car blew up on my block last night.
Danny and I were hanging out on the roof drinking wine, when black smoke began to billow above the roof of the neighboring buildings. After about 10 seconds it was clear that the smoke was coming from the street and that it was not just someone grilling or lighting a fire. We headed downstairs and sure enough, someone’s truck has burst into flames and was completely burned out by the time we got down the street, the fire also burned a nearby bush, a bicycle and part of another car. I can only hope there was no one in the truck at the time. So much excitement on 4th Avenue. I hear sirens about 5 times a night in my neighborhood, and I’m telling myself that’s completely normal. Totally normal.
I went to a Laundromat and got laughed at by a bunch of housewives while I tried to figure out how to use the antiquated washers and dryers. Look at the white girl trying to do laundry! I feel that I should defend myself after telling that particular bit, but I have no excuse. I’ve always had a place to do laundry that didn’t require 7,000 quarters and dropping my strawberry underwear on the floor in front of 20 people. I’ll learn.
That is all the exciting stuff that’s happening I guess (doing laundry doesn’t really count as exciting, I’ll admit). Found a great little Italian restaurant in my neighborhood, blah blah, hot as hell in my apartment, blah blah blah.
Let’s hope this Diet Mountain Dew gets me through the day. C’mon buddy, you can do it.
Life at 16 Grimauld Place, London
It occurred to me today that you can learn a lot about someone you've never met by living in his room for two months. For instance, I was given free reign by a relative stranger (my "landlord") to raid and listen to his CD collection while I'm living here. As I was digging through the copious amount of jazz and little-known bands, I came across several CDs, all of which were scratched so badly there's no way they'd play on a CD player. They included Sting, Stevie Wonder, the soundtrack to Purple Rain, and Bob Marley. Not at all bad first bands, and I'm sure there is a correlation between the existence of these CDs and the great taste in music this guy seems to have. I'm currently listening to Mr. Miles Davis, thoroughly enjoying it, and thinking it's time Danny and I wandered back over to the Iridium Jazz Club in (gasp!) Times Square, and catch another show. Jazz is great stuff. Especially late at night, as it is right now. Yes, it is my first New York bout of insomnia. I didn't sleep a wink last night, due to a bad headache and a loud beeping sound out on 4th Avenue that went on ALL NIGHT LONG.
Beep! Beep! Beep! (blissful pause) Beep! Beep! Beep!
So here I am, and by all rights I should be barely able to keep my eyes open, but instead I'm listening to the jazz collection of my subletter and counting the bars on my window. Did I mention I have bars on my window? Yes, I do.
On a very positive note, I have finished "HP6" as all the kiddies are calling it (and more than a few adults...I was at the release party in Union Square at midnight on Friday. I saw more drag queens there than at a regular night at Velvet...white parties excluded of course).
My roommate and I sat around and drank some beer tonight, a favorite pasttime of mine since (a) I discovered I have no money, and (b) Rheingold beer is MAD CHEAP at the little grocery next door.
And now, back to Miles and staring at the bars. I would tell you about my exciting Broadway experience that included miss Marsha Mason and Miss Delta Burke, but I'm trying to erase it from my memory...
Oh and also, Coldstone rocks my socks. It just does.
Thank you and goodnight.
Desperate
If anyone out there finds themselves in either New York City, Chicago, Los Angeles, or South Florida (huh?), go and see the play “Jewtopia.” It’s freaking hilarious. It tells the story of two guys who meet at a Jewish singles mixer. One is a Jewish guy who needs to meet and marry a Jewish girl to make his parents happy, and the other is an Irish Catholic guy who wants to marry a Jewish girl so he never has to make another decision as long as he lives. Danny’s friend directed, wrote, and is starring in this play (stars in the NYC one), and we got to meet and chat with him after the play. So funny.
Ok, so one of the things I’ve been doing over the last few months and will continue to do while I’m living in New York is collect celebrity sightings. I’m not going to be creepy fan girl (except possibly with David Bowie), but I’m just going to collect my sightings and post them right here on my blog for all to see.
Until last night, I had a grand total of three NYC celebrity sightings:
1) Ashley Olson at an Italian restaurant/bar in the East Village in February. She bumped into my shoulder as she walked by, which is the only reason I even noticed her. She still very much looks like a child and may even be part midget, I’m not entirely sure.
2) Susan Serandon and Tim Robbins at the Schubert Theater on Broadway. Danny and I went to see Spamalot in May, and they were in the Audience. He is freaking tall, and she is absolutely beautiful in person. They also had their son with them.
Last night I also had a celebrity sighting, though not one as famous as the previous two. Ricardo Chavira, who plays the character of Carlos on Desperate Housewives (husband to Gabriela, played by Eva Longoria). We were at this bar called Vintage, which was the typical New York lounge, dark, with long couches and red tinted votives. All I can say about Ricardo is that he looks exactly as he does on television. Perhaps he was out celebrating Desperate Housewives’ 15 Emmy nominations J
So there you have it. 4 Celebrity sightings in just about as many months. I’m a rock star.
Barefoot in the Park
Reason # 1,340 why living in New York City is awesome:
My plans for tonight are not only awesome and cheap/free, but I have a good weather option and an inclement weather option.
Good weather option: The New York Philharmonic is giving a free concert in Central Park tonight. Cost to me: $5-10 for a sandwich and however much it costs for a somewhat decent bottle of wine.
Bad weather option: The Broadway show called, “Jewtopia.” Hailed by Time Out New York as, “Two hours of comedy! After a quarter century of Neil Simon and his imitators, the playwrights redeem the formula with edge! Displaying a commercial sensibility that is almost obscene, they combine the swaggering generation y, (for yahweh) sensibility with the more traditional borscht belt approach, nailing two demographics at once! The result is irresistible – like watching precocious kids mouth off to their parents! The young authors play the parts with sassy abandon! The script throws every ingredient on hand into the comedic chicken soup...you may eat till you plotz!” Cost: absolutely nothing.
Last night, Danny and I went to this great Mexican restaurant for his birthday called Blockheads. Amazing burritos and cheap mojitos make this place a must-visit for anyone on the Upper East Side. Since when did I start talking like the Zagat guide?
Tomorrow is the Mets game. David says his cousin was vomited on at Shea stadium, and it’s supposed to be raining, not to mention the fact that well, it’s the Mets. But I am determined to drink a beer and eat a hot dog and enjoy baseball just the same.
And the pickles, and the pickles...
Thing # 1: Because of the nature of blogging, I will not be writing about my job. But I will say just this one thing: I have an AMAZING view of the river, the city, and its 8 million inhabitants.
Thing # 2: Yummy Taco has FREE DELIVERY. Do you realize what this means? I can sit on my aerobed in my un-air conditioned room, pick up the phone, and have cheap and delicious Mexican food brought to my door. Life is good. On a related note, tomorrow I start my Yummy Taco-sponsored Don't Get Fat program by running the length of Central Park 3 times a week. Maybe I'll see David Duchovny.
Fabian meets Colleen and the Sparks Fly.
I may or may not have spent the last 4 hours watching Dawson's Creek with my new roommate. It must be the confessional nature of the weblog that makes me so forthcoming about my transgressions, but I just can't help it. Teenage angst never gets old. Plus I can't help but study Katie Holmes in an effort to figure out why she is shacking up with the new Crazy Tom 2000 (tm).
Tomorrow is my first day at work. Hopefully I won't pass out the moment I get home tomorrow night, because there are too many things to do in this wonderful city to spend my time sleeping. Also, lest anyone forget, I have no air conditioning, so the less time I spend in my sauna/bedroom the better.
I have decided to give this lovely 8 year old, teal-colored iMac on which I'm writing a nickname. He shall be Fabian. Fabian will serve me well in the next couple of months I think. He will check my email at alarmingly slow speeds and letters I type will appear just a second or two later than I actually enter them on the keyboard. I heart you Fabian.
Today I did all of the mundane things I normally do on a Sunday. I went grocery shopping, made another trip to Target, dropped off film to be developed, and heated up leftovers in the oven. Even though these things are mundane, somehow doing them here is much more fun.
I have discovered the Yummy Taco and I LOVE THE YUMMY TACO. I went there again today, and got the grilled chicken taco. I don't think I can ever go back to Taco Bell.
Last night was Danny and Nick's birthday party things at Patty O'Brien's on the Upper East. It was free beer all night, and Danny won two tickets to the Mets game on Thursday night. Guess who he's bringing with him? I will have to pretend that I'm not a Yankees fan for just one night and enjoy some great baseball. Either that or, if I'm feeling fiesty, I'll wear my Yankees hat and cause a riot :-)
Alright, it's almost midnight, and I've got my first day of work tomorrow.
Adios!
Real World: New York City
Alright, this is my first post in New York City. I'm writing this on an antiquated iMac bought by the tenants for $50, sitting on one of those round seats drummers sit on behind their drum sets. I am just now starting to settle in a bit, and mentally preparing myself for my first day of work on Monday.
The drive up was uneventful. We didn't get lost once, we made excellent time, and found a rock star parking spot right outside my apartment for Lindsay. We spent Thursday evening unpacking my shit (mentioned in previous entries).
The apartment is pretty nice. There's a decent sized kitchen (though with no microwave or toaster, I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do for food), and my room is big enough. One problem has arisen though, which I am not very happy about. The central air conditioning broke last week apparently, and the landlords installed window AC units in all the rooms EXCEPT MINE. Turns out, it's against NYC fire code to have a window unit installed in a window which goes out to a fire escape, so it looks like I'm SOL and sleeping with a fan for the two hottest months of the summer. Yippee.
Other than that, yesterday was spent walking around the city in the pouring rain. Lindsay and I spent a good while at Strand Books (one of my absolute favorite places in the whole city), and then made a wonderful dinner of bruschetta and Artichoke and Leek soup. It was amazing and cheap!
Around 8:30, I met the second of my two roommates. Here's the rundown: Roommate 1: From upstate New York, and before that, Japan. She is such a sweetheart and seems like she is very laid back. Roommate 2: A very cool chick from Texas. We ended up all hanging out and drinking last night. We checked out some of the cool bars in the area, and let me tell you, THERE ARE SOME COOL BARS IN THIS AREA. This place we went to last night was called the Tea Lounge, and there was some very cool music and pretty cheap drinks. I hope to return there soon. All in all, I think my roommates and I will work out very well, and possibly stay friends even once we all go our separate ways.
This morning, we went to Target. Now, let me take a minute here to explain that in New York City, there is essentially one Target which serves ALL OF NEW YORK CITY, and it is located a block and a half from my front door. Also in this same location is a Marshalls, a DSW, and a PathMark (grocery store, but better and cheaper than Giant or Safeway...crappy produce, but people don't buy produce there, they buy produce at the open air markets ACROSS THE STREET from me). Also, there is a hardware store, a Bath and Body Works, an electronics store, and pretty much anything my little heart desires or may ever desire. Unfortunately, I won't have the money to go shopping at any of these places (except for Target) in the near future.
So anyway, we went to Target to get the essentials. Then back here, where Lindsay and I packed up our backpacks and headed to the Prospect Park Botannical Gardens. HOLY CRAP it's beautiful there. A 15 minute walk from my house is every tree, plant, and flower you could imagine, along with a big pond, and waterfalls. If you come to visit me (whoever you are), you must make me take you there. We took lots of pictures. We spent most of today there. Oh, and for the 3rd time in as many months, I ran into someone I know from Virginia on the streets of New York. As Lindsay and I were walking toward Prospect Park, this girl with spikey, bleach blonde hair slowed down on her bike going the other way. It was this girl Barb from high school band, and little sister of one of my best friends! We exchanged numbers and will probably hang out soon. Amazing.
It's now 3pm, and my ex-coworker Michael is in town and we're going to hang out for a bit. Tonight is free keg night on the Upper East Side to celebrate Danny and Nick's birthday, and I'm sure lots of silly drunkenness will ensue.
I'm off to make Danny a cake. Shhhh, don't tell him, ok?
Seacrest OUT! (what a tool)
Little Body Shop of Horrors
Ok, so one of the major obstacles in the way of my complete happiness and financial stability whilst living in the "Second Home to the World" is the existence of my 2001 Honda Civic.
A little over a year ago, I left work early one day with a ridiculously high fever and was headed to the doctor. As I pulled out of the parking space in the parking garage, I heard a crunching sound. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, stupid thing #13,476 that I've done was done that day. My car was quite abruptly introduced to the concrete pilon, and it caused some relatively minor damage to the front end of my car...all this due to sheer stupidity and a 103 degree fever.
So here I am, realizing that I am not going to need a car in New York City, and that this car I thought I would drive till it died would need to be sold, and sold quickly. I got three estimates today and they were all ridiculously high. Two of the guys doing my estimates treated me like a stupid girl who didn't know anything about cars. Now of course, this is completely true, but I wasn't going to let them know that, nor should they assume such things. One guy quoted me a price of $1500, and called me "darlin'" a lot, but after I told him I had a quote from a dealership at a much lower price, he lowered his price by a few hundred dollars. Prick. He lost any business he was going to get from me with that little stunt.
ANYWAY, now I'm completely screwed because I have very little money and a rather large body job to have done. Oh the joys of living on a menial salary.
If I were to rate today on a scale from 1 to 10, I'd put today at a solid 6.0. I got a really good run in this morning, so that was good (+1), and I got a lot accomplished in preparation for the move (+1). However, the obnoxious body shop trips, the fact that I haven't seen my boyfriend in over a month, and minor breakdown resulting in my tearstained and red face led to the loss of those 6 points that would have otherwise led to a perfect 10 day (-6). Please join me tomorrow and see if I can attain the perfect 10 day.
Countdown to NYC: exactly 48 hours. Let's hope I make it that long.
Shit.
I have a lot of shit.
I've spent the last few days buried in my parents' basement (a.k.a. the Batcave, sadly and conspicuously missing a certain hot Welsh actor whose last name rhymes with "rail"). I've been organizing all of my worldly possessions into the following categories: (1) shit I need in NYC now, (2) shit I'll probably need in NYC in a few months when mom and dad come to visit, and (3) shit I don't need but my pack rat tendencies have forced me to hold onto. I think it's really funny that no matter how much effort I put into the sorting/packing process, I will inevitably get to NYC and find tons of stuff I really should have brought with me. Ah well.
I'm starting to get really excited now. Up till recently, I would have only moments when it would really hit me that I'm moving to New York City. I'd get this weird feeling of nervousness, excitement, and impatience to get the hell up there already. Now I've pretty much moved into full on Panic Mode, where I've got so much to do and so little time in which to do it. I'll be glad when Thursday rolls around and I just have to pack the car and go, and hope everything else works out. I know it will.
So here it is, Tuesday morning, and I'm off to get more shit done.
