I broke some ice this week, and went to my first audition in NYC in probably over 3 years. A dear friend of mine who has cheered me on in all my endeavors past and future tipped me off to this audition. Immediately, I began to make excuses as to why I couldn't go: I don't have a current headshot. I might be tired. I haven't finished working on my resume. The possibility for rain is 0% that day. I need to have the apartment 100% in perfect order and spotless with all my music sorted, selected and practiced on 50 of my closest friends first... Mostly, though, I was just scared.
"Where did the past few months of confidence building go?" you may be tempted to ask. I asked myself the same question while cowering in fear under my bed. To be honest, I have let fear dominate my life in so many ways in the past, and that is exactly why I am back in NYC. I am here to "Feel The Fear And Do It Anyway." (Susan Jeffers)
So, I went home on the morning of the 28th after work, gathered my materials from their various hiding places, went to the internet cafe to print my resume and was off to the studio. I arrived around 12pm, and the monitor told me I could be seen at 12:30. I have to say that I love this perk of being an AEA (Actor's Union) member. If this had been a non-union call, I would have had to be there at 4am just to get a spot. The half-hour window gave me time to sit and try to remember to breathe as I put together my headshots/resumes. As some of you may know, I have developed a nervous system disorder over the past few years that causes constant muscle twitching. This gets worse when I am stressed, and I could have sworn that my left leg was doing its best to make a run for the door with or without me. My heart wasn't helping matters as it tried to escape by pounding out through either the top of my head or the bottoms of my feet.
There was a dodgy moment when I stood up and almost passed out, but I conquered this with some more deep breathing and somehow managed to make it to the waiting line. I had pulled a song that I already knew by heart, and was prepared to sing the whole thing with pre-selected gestures and motions. However, the audition monitor informed us a few minutes before I went in (I was first in my group) that we should sing 32 bars. This cut my already short song in half, and I had to count backward from the end of the song to see where I should begin. This left me no time to think about my "moves" before going in.
Now, people just LOVE to give TMI. The monitor very kindly informed us that the music director for the show would be in the room, and that it was very rare for this to be the case. Oh THANK you, Mr. Monitor! Now I can add the need to PUKE to my list of maladies for the day.
One more deep breath, and I was in the room. The people in the room were cordial and friendly, and after giving my music to the piano player/MUSIC DIRECTOR, I sang. My voice was ok. Steadier than I thought it would be. My body, however, betrayed me. Where were all those practiced motions we had planned? Time slows down inside your head during these moments, and I was shouting internally to myself, "What are you DOING?" as I repeated the same hand gesture for EVERY LINE of the song. Well, then. There, now.
The casting director thanked my very much for coming in, and I thanked them all profusely before heading back out into the hallway. The actor following me told me I sounded good (I had shared with him that I hadn't auditioned in a few years.) All in all, I can't complain. It was not the end of the world, and now each audition can only get better and easier from here.
For those of you who don't know "The Business," this was an EPA (Equity Principal Audition,) and it was required. This means that it is made mandatory by the union for the show to hold these auditions, and they are not necessarily looking for actors. Once in a while they will hire someone out of these "cattle calls," but most actors just use them as an opportunity to hone their audition skills.
My goal in the future is to audition my pants off, and be much more aggressive regarding my career than I was in the past. I won't bore you with EVERY audition I go to in the future, but I wanted to share the fact that I MADE IT THROUGH MY FIRST ONE! AND I DIDN'T DIE!
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Saturday, August 25, 2012
August 25, 2012
"Michele Bachmann thinks natural disasters are a warning sign from God about government spending4 — but she claims there "isn't even one study" that carbon pollution is dangerous.5 Bachmann implied that Democrats could be the cause of the swine flu, and said the HPV vaccine causes mental retardation,6 while repeatedly voting to restrict access to birth control and to deny women life-saving medical care." - Becky Bond
One of my biggest questions for religious persons is, "Why don't you want to take credit for your successes?"Think about it. When something that is seen as "good" happens to someone, they give all the credit to their god. What about the hard work, sweat and determination they put into it? Is is that they don't want to seem boastful for taking the credit? Or do they really think that god gave them the strength necessary to get through, and they couldn't have done it without that assistance? I have done everything in my adult life without the thought of god, and I have done fine for myself.
I guess it could come off kind of self centered. "I'd like to thank all the people who helped, and praise be to ME for finding the courage to follow through on my dreams." We are all very scared of sounding like braggarts, and are told that we must be humble at all costs. I guess this means that we are not allowed to take the credit for any good things we do in our own lives.
The flip side of this coin is that apparently their gods are not responsible for any bad things that happen. Perhaps this is just a way of only seeing the good in situations. Take for example a natural disater that claims thousands of lives and leaves just a few. We all know that these types of tragedies are inevitable in our volatile world. Most people claim that earth was created by one god or another, and so wouldn't that mean that those gods are directly (or at the very least indirectly) responsible for it? We do not hear, "God took the lives of thousands of people today," but we DO hear, "God mercifully saved the lives of these select 30." What made them so popular with god that day?
Even the Xtian Bible includes incidents of a wrathful God smiting people, and yet I can't imagine the repurcussions of blaming God for any of these natural disasters today. What if someone stood up and actually blamed God for a disaster? INSTEAD, Xtians find the need to blame humanity instead. "It is because of your sinful ways that this tragedy occured," some say. SOOOO, in a round-about you ARE saying God did it, but by blaming humanity for invoking His wrath.
I'm so very confused by this roundabout way of thinking and processing data. Why not just state facts.
We live on the earth.
It is a volatile environment.
Once in a while this leads to a disaster that claims human life.
Where does or should a god ever enter into this, even if said god was responsible for our universe? Looking back on the history of humanity (minus the fairy-tale books of religion which are not valid as having been proven wrong time and again,) we see no evidence of a god ever intervening to save OR take human life.
Friday, August 24, 2012
August 24, 2012
Once in a while you can do a small good deed for a stranger, and really add to your daily happiness. This morning, I woke up not feeling my best (sore throat/swollen eyelid.) This led to not the best of moods, especially since I was hauling all of my work clothing with me to work this morning.
A young man stepped up to me, and asked me if the train on the express track went to Fulton St. Even though I know the A train does, I made sure to check my phone app to be completely certain and gave him the affirmative. He thanked me and walked a ways down the platform. The next train to come in was the D train (which does NOT go to Fulton!) I saw that he was going to get on the train, so I hustled down the platform and caught him by the arm.
"Not this train," I explained. "You need to take the A train." I then walked back up the platform to my place of waiting. As the next A train pulled in, he looked to me and I gave him an affirming nod. He nodded back, and we both entered the train.
It's the sort of thing that makes you feel good! These kinds of opportunities abound in NYC, and I have always been amazed by the helpfulness of strangers in this city.
In the past I have made a few blunders, and sent people on the wrong train only realizing my folly once the doors close. As I imagine them cursing me when they make the realization that they have gone to the Bronx instead of Brooklyn, I can only be happy that in a city of so many people I will probably never run into them again.
This leads me to thinking about how different the city feels to me this time. The shiny has definitely been rubbed off, but the horrible rushed/cramped feeling that I felt before is also gone. If you had asked me if I thought I would feel so CALM here, I never would have answered positively in the past. But, here I am... CALM.
A young man stepped up to me, and asked me if the train on the express track went to Fulton St. Even though I know the A train does, I made sure to check my phone app to be completely certain and gave him the affirmative. He thanked me and walked a ways down the platform. The next train to come in was the D train (which does NOT go to Fulton!) I saw that he was going to get on the train, so I hustled down the platform and caught him by the arm.
"Not this train," I explained. "You need to take the A train." I then walked back up the platform to my place of waiting. As the next A train pulled in, he looked to me and I gave him an affirming nod. He nodded back, and we both entered the train.
It's the sort of thing that makes you feel good! These kinds of opportunities abound in NYC, and I have always been amazed by the helpfulness of strangers in this city.
In the past I have made a few blunders, and sent people on the wrong train only realizing my folly once the doors close. As I imagine them cursing me when they make the realization that they have gone to the Bronx instead of Brooklyn, I can only be happy that in a city of so many people I will probably never run into them again.
This leads me to thinking about how different the city feels to me this time. The shiny has definitely been rubbed off, but the horrible rushed/cramped feeling that I felt before is also gone. If you had asked me if I thought I would feel so CALM here, I never would have answered positively in the past. But, here I am... CALM.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
August 23, 2012
One prevailing thought clouds my mind as I sit here this evening. Part of my reading tonight took me to yet another statement by an Xtian declaring that Atheists reach their non-belief as a result of being hurt by the church in their past. I hear this all the time when receiving a "rebuttal" from a person of Faith. This raises a question:
"Why would you come to the conclusion that I have been hurt by your loving, all-accepting religion, unless you are conceding that your church routinely hurts people?"
Chew on that for a while...
And then consider that I have NOT been hurt by the church. Sure, I went to church with some assholes as a kid. Yes, I was treated badly by them, outcast and called names. The church is absolutely filled with these kinds of hypocrites. Of that there is no doubt.
BUT, consider the amount of people who still seek a relationship with God even though they know the church they attend does not accept them for who they are. If you are right that I am an Atheist because I have been hurt by the church, then by that same reasoning all gay people should be Atheist. Why? Because your precious Book condemns us to the Fiery Pit. Yet, this is not so. Many gay people still seek a relationship with an unseen force.
No, friends, I am not an Atheist because I was hurt by all of you. Stop being so conceited as to think that you have that kind of power over me!
I am an Atheist because I have looked at History. I have read about where your religions and your gods started, and by whom. I have looked at the scientific record of our earthly home.
It is because of these things that I reject your gods. And I am happy. Happier than I have ever been. I have no fear of death, and no fear of any after life (or the consequences of being wrong about my choice of gods.) I live my life believing in the humanity of people, and the scientific explanations behind the things we do. Life is finite, and I therefore love completely and treasure each moment with my fellow beings.
Love...
"Why would you come to the conclusion that I have been hurt by your loving, all-accepting religion, unless you are conceding that your church routinely hurts people?"
Chew on that for a while...
And then consider that I have NOT been hurt by the church. Sure, I went to church with some assholes as a kid. Yes, I was treated badly by them, outcast and called names. The church is absolutely filled with these kinds of hypocrites. Of that there is no doubt.
BUT, consider the amount of people who still seek a relationship with God even though they know the church they attend does not accept them for who they are. If you are right that I am an Atheist because I have been hurt by the church, then by that same reasoning all gay people should be Atheist. Why? Because your precious Book condemns us to the Fiery Pit. Yet, this is not so. Many gay people still seek a relationship with an unseen force.
No, friends, I am not an Atheist because I was hurt by all of you. Stop being so conceited as to think that you have that kind of power over me!
I am an Atheist because I have looked at History. I have read about where your religions and your gods started, and by whom. I have looked at the scientific record of our earthly home.
It is because of these things that I reject your gods. And I am happy. Happier than I have ever been. I have no fear of death, and no fear of any after life (or the consequences of being wrong about my choice of gods.) I live my life believing in the humanity of people, and the scientific explanations behind the things we do. Life is finite, and I therefore love completely and treasure each moment with my fellow beings.
Love...
August 22, 2012
I've been thinking a lot about my Atheism recently, along with reading many posts/blogs about Atheism. A post this morning about another person becoming "saved" at age 11 prompted me to remember my own "saving."
My brother Grady is and has always been big on all things Xtian. It was one warm summer day that he coerced me into "accepting Jesus into my heart." I remember sitting on a tiny stump in our yard (which always felt like me to be a magical place where fairies and goblins were just out of reach) and allowing this to occur. There are two very prevalent memories about this day for me. One is that I had to be coerced into this act. I very distinctly at the age of... 6? remember not wanting to do what Grady so desperately seemed to think I needed to do. Honestly, I don't know if this was because I felt I was being put on the spot, or if I truly had misgivings about the whole business. Either way, I was not enthusiastic about this event, and he had hounded me about it for some time. My second memory is that as soon as I had done this deed and prayed for my own salvation, Grady and his friend Roger ran off to play without me. There I was, newly "saved" and just as unimportant to my brother and his friend as I always had been.
My family had taken me to church my whole life before this afternoon. We sang together as a family at church services, and my mom wrote in my baby book that my favorite Sunday School song as a 2 year-old was "Deep and Wide." I did love the music portion of church, and singing was really the only part of the service I liked. Weddings, funerals and Sunday mornings bored me to tears, and although I made valiant efforts to pay attention and read The Bible, I never felt a thing.
Oh sure, I felt some of the same euphoria back then that other church-goers experience when they are singing. At least I think I did. I do remember always wondering why I couldn't feel God's love the way others seemed to. They say there is a "God Area" of the brain, and music plays a big part in fostering that euphoria people feel when attending church. This "God Area" makes people feel a presence other than themselves and other humans, and this is how people "know" there is a God. Maybe my "God Area" never developed.
I know I am not alone in this, but so often I felt awkward in church. The raising of hands, the speaking in tongues and the long exaggerated prayers felt empty to me. I always felt that I was playing a part, and ended up pretending I had experienced certain feelings and experiences when I actually had not. Eventually I ended up going to a quieter church next door to the ministry choice of my family where my best friend attended. It was a place where I could ponder these teachings without being buffeted by the evangelical music and over-emphasized, emphatic pleas to God. It was here that I began to try to read The Bible in earnest, prayed for my sins to be taken away, and even helped create a music program so that I could perform. But, alas, even these experiences did not bring God to me.
It has taken me many years to unwind all of the church's teachings from my mind, and to find who I truly am. I think back now on all of these experiences of my youth, and wonder what life would have been like for me if I had not felt the need to play along. When you are told something is the truth, and when you fear retribution for not following, you try like crazy to conform. This has lasting consequences that take years to erase.
I can honestly say that I am here today a strong, happy man. Confident in what I do not believe. Assured that I can be (and AM) good without God.
My brother Grady is and has always been big on all things Xtian. It was one warm summer day that he coerced me into "accepting Jesus into my heart." I remember sitting on a tiny stump in our yard (which always felt like me to be a magical place where fairies and goblins were just out of reach) and allowing this to occur. There are two very prevalent memories about this day for me. One is that I had to be coerced into this act. I very distinctly at the age of... 6? remember not wanting to do what Grady so desperately seemed to think I needed to do. Honestly, I don't know if this was because I felt I was being put on the spot, or if I truly had misgivings about the whole business. Either way, I was not enthusiastic about this event, and he had hounded me about it for some time. My second memory is that as soon as I had done this deed and prayed for my own salvation, Grady and his friend Roger ran off to play without me. There I was, newly "saved" and just as unimportant to my brother and his friend as I always had been.
My family had taken me to church my whole life before this afternoon. We sang together as a family at church services, and my mom wrote in my baby book that my favorite Sunday School song as a 2 year-old was "Deep and Wide." I did love the music portion of church, and singing was really the only part of the service I liked. Weddings, funerals and Sunday mornings bored me to tears, and although I made valiant efforts to pay attention and read The Bible, I never felt a thing.
Oh sure, I felt some of the same euphoria back then that other church-goers experience when they are singing. At least I think I did. I do remember always wondering why I couldn't feel God's love the way others seemed to. They say there is a "God Area" of the brain, and music plays a big part in fostering that euphoria people feel when attending church. This "God Area" makes people feel a presence other than themselves and other humans, and this is how people "know" there is a God. Maybe my "God Area" never developed.
I know I am not alone in this, but so often I felt awkward in church. The raising of hands, the speaking in tongues and the long exaggerated prayers felt empty to me. I always felt that I was playing a part, and ended up pretending I had experienced certain feelings and experiences when I actually had not. Eventually I ended up going to a quieter church next door to the ministry choice of my family where my best friend attended. It was a place where I could ponder these teachings without being buffeted by the evangelical music and over-emphasized, emphatic pleas to God. It was here that I began to try to read The Bible in earnest, prayed for my sins to be taken away, and even helped create a music program so that I could perform. But, alas, even these experiences did not bring God to me.
It has taken me many years to unwind all of the church's teachings from my mind, and to find who I truly am. I think back now on all of these experiences of my youth, and wonder what life would have been like for me if I had not felt the need to play along. When you are told something is the truth, and when you fear retribution for not following, you try like crazy to conform. This has lasting consequences that take years to erase.
I can honestly say that I am here today a strong, happy man. Confident in what I do not believe. Assured that I can be (and AM) good without God.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
August 21, 2012
MOVING DAY
First, I just have to say that I am going to miss Lauren when she heads back to Alexandria, VA on Thursday. The past week since we met has included some of my favorite moments of NYC past or present...
As per her instruction (Yes, SHE is in charge no matter what she tries to tell you. I informed her today that she should be my manager,) here are the top 10 funniest moments of the day:
10. Forgotten Hand-Truck- Admittedly, the first part of the day went very smoothly, except for one tiny detail that would have helped us out tremendously. Lauren met me at the Budget Truck Rental lot, and we sailed somewhat smoothly toward Judy's home (my old home) in Brooklyn. I had eaten a DD muffin and had an extra large coffee, so I was flying high. Now, while I was on the Subway to head to Budget I did realize the Hand-Truck that had been lent to me was left behind, but it was too late to turn back. Whoops. This eventually resulted in me on one end of the furniture, and Lauren and Judy on the other. Judy is normally a power-house when it comes to lifting, but new (and apparently impatient) baby Benjamin ruptured her Hoo-Ha on entry. Needless to say, she is on light duty until her poor Hoo heals. We managed quite well in spite of the lack of the Hand-Truck, and I now have a desk, my couch and one of my dressers at the new apartment. Thanks, Judy! Hope your Hoo gets better real soon!
9. Half a Donut - By the time we had loaded these items, Lauren and I were just a little dehydrated and hungry. Lauren purchased refreshements at the DD (Today's show is brought to you by the letters DD,) and we split a celebratory donut in the cab of the truck as we drove off. Lauren gave me the larger half of the donut. I did not object. Little did we know this would be our last food for a quite some time.
8. Tombstones, Trains and Towers - The GPS on my phone (before dying on us!!!) directed us to drive up McDonald Avenue from Judy's residence. For those of you who are not familiar, McDonald runs UNDER the F line of the MTA. Perfect timing put us directly under a train heading in the same direction, so most of our conversation on McDonald Ave had to be screamed. We were also treated to sights of the graveyard that give Gravesend (Judy's 'hood) its name. We talked of how silly it is to create mausoleums for the dead, and I pointed out that many of the tombstones (Tomb-Log?) seemed to be trying to be the tallest in the graveyard. "Hey! Look at this log on top of my tomb! I'm the tallest! Notice ME, I'm DEAD!" I guess it works...
7. Drug Bust - We had avoided the Battery Tunnel going into Brooklyn, because it was designated for cars only. On the return, however, Lauren noted that the clearance was over 11' and we were only 9' so we could take the tunnel instead of waiting for entry to the BQE. Now, in the process of trying not to drive into other vehicles, road-blocks and walls, all the while taking instructions from the GPS on my phone via Lauren, I apparently missed a sign that told me where trucks of a certain size should go. Lauren soon noted that I was being waved over by an out-of-vehicle officer. GREAT. After looking condescedingly at me for a few seconds (Must ALL New Yorkers be so nasty?) he spoke, "All trucks must be in this lane for drug inspection. If you'd been paying attention, you'd have seen the sign." Instead of saying all the things I would have liked to at that moment (Dear Officer...,) I merely apologized and handed him the necessary documents. I was then instructed to open the back of the truck. It's too bad I didn't have a cargo-hold full of exotic animals ready to pounce instead of boring old furniture. I was cleared, and we continued on our way...
Side Note: Apparently, you can't take drugs through tunnels, but you CAN take them over bridges... Hmmm...
Our route then took us DIRECTLY UNDER THE FREEDOM TOWER. I was so close I could have touched it. Well, with a 100 to 200 ft pole maybe. I was so excited and shouting and looking that I probably WOULD have missed a sign for drug inspections at that point!
6. Sheila and Schedules - We pulled up to the apartment, and my friend Charles arrived shortly after with bicycle in tow. As he went to lock "her" up, Lauren asked "her" name. "Sheila," was the proud response. I later commended Lauren on picking up on this important detail, and making Charles feel special. We got the furniture in with little trouble, and then headed to the storage unit with Lauren sitting in the imaginary seat in the middle of the cab. I was just lucky there were no drug inspection points in the few blocks to the storage unit, or we may have had bigger "immigration" fish to fry! There are certain moments when you realize that smart phones truly have taken over our lives. I had one of these epiphanies during this ride when I realized I had been talking for 5 minutes straight with no response from my cab-mates. Charles was so distracted by his "schedule" that he barely spoke to us all day.
5. Granola Bars - Things at the storage unit went almost perfectly (there always has to be a moving day tragedy,) but due to a severe lack of food, I watched helplessly as sugar levels plummeted and moods went south. Luckily my stored bins of food saved the day with offerings of granola bars. This was a much better option than drinking honey straight out of the bottle or doing shots of Grand Marnier, and definitely helped us through the rest of the afternoon.
4. Guitar Lamp/Death of Turntable - During our last load from storage, Lauren placed my encased guitar on her back. Finding an errant lampshade (and after deciding wearing it as a hat would severely impede her vision,) it ended up on the neck of the guitar. Hysterics and a photo session ensued. Oh yeah... And my record player died today. Moving tragedy of the day.
3. Acetabula - Did you know that some people have more shallow acetabula allowing them to have more range of motion in their hip joints? Did you know that acetabula is a word? Now you do (and somehow in my delusional state of dehydration/exhaustion I am doing the splits in the storage building while waiting for the elevator.)
2. Drag Bag - There are those costume items that become legend. It just so happens that I own the boots I wore in The Rocky Horror Show. Every time Lauren saw a large shoe-box emerge, "Are those the boots?" was her question. We also discussed the fact that I have enough drag items to constitute a "Drag Bag." Somehow Lauren ended up getting a photo of her carrying the show shoes from Rocky, Whorehouse and the Drag Bag all at once.
1. Show tunes - Charles left us before the last load (Many MANY thanks for your help, Charles!,) and then Lauren and I headed to Budget to return the truck IN RUSH HOUR TRAFFIC. Lord. Needless to say I "Blocked the Box," got yelled and honked at, and pulled the most AMAZING box unblocking feat of my life. Due to having to get gas, we ended up in the SAME BOX mere minutes later. More shouting (and shouting, nay, SCREAMING back!) until I figured out an alternate route. Truck returned, aaaaaaaand aaaaaaaalmost done. Lauren and I walked to Arriba! Arriba! to replay our lunch from last week (this time with fewer mouth blisters,) and I did my best Drag Queen Out Of Drag rendition of every song that played. I blame El Papa and little sleep.
2 1/2 hours of sleep later, here I am at work. Overnight. Alone. God. Help. Me. Zzzzzzz...
First, I just have to say that I am going to miss Lauren when she heads back to Alexandria, VA on Thursday. The past week since we met has included some of my favorite moments of NYC past or present...
As per her instruction (Yes, SHE is in charge no matter what she tries to tell you. I informed her today that she should be my manager,) here are the top 10 funniest moments of the day:
10. Forgotten Hand-Truck- Admittedly, the first part of the day went very smoothly, except for one tiny detail that would have helped us out tremendously. Lauren met me at the Budget Truck Rental lot, and we sailed somewhat smoothly toward Judy's home (my old home) in Brooklyn. I had eaten a DD muffin and had an extra large coffee, so I was flying high. Now, while I was on the Subway to head to Budget I did realize the Hand-Truck that had been lent to me was left behind, but it was too late to turn back. Whoops. This eventually resulted in me on one end of the furniture, and Lauren and Judy on the other. Judy is normally a power-house when it comes to lifting, but new (and apparently impatient) baby Benjamin ruptured her Hoo-Ha on entry. Needless to say, she is on light duty until her poor Hoo heals. We managed quite well in spite of the lack of the Hand-Truck, and I now have a desk, my couch and one of my dressers at the new apartment. Thanks, Judy! Hope your Hoo gets better real soon!
9. Half a Donut - By the time we had loaded these items, Lauren and I were just a little dehydrated and hungry. Lauren purchased refreshements at the DD (Today's show is brought to you by the letters DD,) and we split a celebratory donut in the cab of the truck as we drove off. Lauren gave me the larger half of the donut. I did not object. Little did we know this would be our last food for a quite some time.
8. Tombstones, Trains and Towers - The GPS on my phone (before dying on us!!!) directed us to drive up McDonald Avenue from Judy's residence. For those of you who are not familiar, McDonald runs UNDER the F line of the MTA. Perfect timing put us directly under a train heading in the same direction, so most of our conversation on McDonald Ave had to be screamed. We were also treated to sights of the graveyard that give Gravesend (Judy's 'hood) its name. We talked of how silly it is to create mausoleums for the dead, and I pointed out that many of the tombstones (Tomb-Log?) seemed to be trying to be the tallest in the graveyard. "Hey! Look at this log on top of my tomb! I'm the tallest! Notice ME, I'm DEAD!" I guess it works...
7. Drug Bust - We had avoided the Battery Tunnel going into Brooklyn, because it was designated for cars only. On the return, however, Lauren noted that the clearance was over 11' and we were only 9' so we could take the tunnel instead of waiting for entry to the BQE. Now, in the process of trying not to drive into other vehicles, road-blocks and walls, all the while taking instructions from the GPS on my phone via Lauren, I apparently missed a sign that told me where trucks of a certain size should go. Lauren soon noted that I was being waved over by an out-of-vehicle officer. GREAT. After looking condescedingly at me for a few seconds (Must ALL New Yorkers be so nasty?) he spoke, "All trucks must be in this lane for drug inspection. If you'd been paying attention, you'd have seen the sign." Instead of saying all the things I would have liked to at that moment (Dear Officer...,) I merely apologized and handed him the necessary documents. I was then instructed to open the back of the truck. It's too bad I didn't have a cargo-hold full of exotic animals ready to pounce instead of boring old furniture. I was cleared, and we continued on our way...
Side Note: Apparently, you can't take drugs through tunnels, but you CAN take them over bridges... Hmmm...
Our route then took us DIRECTLY UNDER THE FREEDOM TOWER. I was so close I could have touched it. Well, with a 100 to 200 ft pole maybe. I was so excited and shouting and looking that I probably WOULD have missed a sign for drug inspections at that point!
6. Sheila and Schedules - We pulled up to the apartment, and my friend Charles arrived shortly after with bicycle in tow. As he went to lock "her" up, Lauren asked "her" name. "Sheila," was the proud response. I later commended Lauren on picking up on this important detail, and making Charles feel special. We got the furniture in with little trouble, and then headed to the storage unit with Lauren sitting in the imaginary seat in the middle of the cab. I was just lucky there were no drug inspection points in the few blocks to the storage unit, or we may have had bigger "immigration" fish to fry! There are certain moments when you realize that smart phones truly have taken over our lives. I had one of these epiphanies during this ride when I realized I had been talking for 5 minutes straight with no response from my cab-mates. Charles was so distracted by his "schedule" that he barely spoke to us all day.
5. Granola Bars - Things at the storage unit went almost perfectly (there always has to be a moving day tragedy,) but due to a severe lack of food, I watched helplessly as sugar levels plummeted and moods went south. Luckily my stored bins of food saved the day with offerings of granola bars. This was a much better option than drinking honey straight out of the bottle or doing shots of Grand Marnier, and definitely helped us through the rest of the afternoon.
4. Guitar Lamp/Death of Turntable - During our last load from storage, Lauren placed my encased guitar on her back. Finding an errant lampshade (and after deciding wearing it as a hat would severely impede her vision,) it ended up on the neck of the guitar. Hysterics and a photo session ensued. Oh yeah... And my record player died today. Moving tragedy of the day.
3. Acetabula - Did you know that some people have more shallow acetabula allowing them to have more range of motion in their hip joints? Did you know that acetabula is a word? Now you do (and somehow in my delusional state of dehydration/exhaustion I am doing the splits in the storage building while waiting for the elevator.)
2. Drag Bag - There are those costume items that become legend. It just so happens that I own the boots I wore in The Rocky Horror Show. Every time Lauren saw a large shoe-box emerge, "Are those the boots?" was her question. We also discussed the fact that I have enough drag items to constitute a "Drag Bag." Somehow Lauren ended up getting a photo of her carrying the show shoes from Rocky, Whorehouse and the Drag Bag all at once.
1. Show tunes - Charles left us before the last load (Many MANY thanks for your help, Charles!,) and then Lauren and I headed to Budget to return the truck IN RUSH HOUR TRAFFIC. Lord. Needless to say I "Blocked the Box," got yelled and honked at, and pulled the most AMAZING box unblocking feat of my life. Due to having to get gas, we ended up in the SAME BOX mere minutes later. More shouting (and shouting, nay, SCREAMING back!) until I figured out an alternate route. Truck returned, aaaaaaaand aaaaaaaalmost done. Lauren and I walked to Arriba! Arriba! to replay our lunch from last week (this time with fewer mouth blisters,) and I did my best Drag Queen Out Of Drag rendition of every song that played. I blame El Papa and little sleep.
2 1/2 hours of sleep later, here I am at work. Overnight. Alone. God. Help. Me. Zzzzzzz...
Friday, August 17, 2012
August 17, 2012
Just another random day in my new NYC life...
Lauren (with whom I went to Marvin Hamlisch's funeral earlier this week) asked me if I would like to come to watch a taping of Late Night with Jimmy Fallon yesterday. A few of her relatives are in town, including her mother Kathy (Queenie.) Queenie just happens to be my biggest fan from DC, and Lauren thought it would be nice if I could come over and surprise her at the show. As the day unfolded, however, it was I who received the biggest surprise of all!
I went to bed as soon as I got home so I could catch a few hours of sleep, knowing that I would be awake during my new "sleep time." Upon waking, I walked over to NBC studios to wait for them at Magnolia Bakery. I arrived a few minutes early, so I walked to a nearby Pret to grab a sandwich and gulp down a cup of coffee for reasons of alertness.
Arriving a few minutes ahead of them, I waited until Queenie walked by and squeezed her arm as she passed. Needless to say, surprise #1 was a big hit! :)
We entered the studio lobby, and once we finally figured out where we needed to be (and NARROWLY escaping expulsion by the powers that be because we were more than 4 people,) we were informed that there were dance auditions for the show that day. The accompanying yells of, "You should audition!" were rather hard to ignore, so after some coaxing and a promise from Aunt Peg that she would audition as well, I made my way to the line. Peg came a few minutes later, and we kept each other company until it was time to go downstairs for the audition.
The audition was one person at a time, and I got to watch the young man in front of me. We were told initially that we would be "taking instruction." The instruction was, "Give us some of your best dance moves. Just a couple of seconds."
WHAT? Oh boy... "That isn't taking instruction," I lamely joked. Ok... Pas de bourre, single turn, split! That oughtta seal my fate as the lamest audition of the day. I was certain they were looking for funny people.
Peg auditioned directly after me, and had a brain freeze. I think it was my split that threw her, but I know that if she had chosen to bust out her moves, she would have stolen the show!!! They herded us back upstairs to await our fate. 10 of us (ME!) were rapidly chosen, and asked to sign release forms.
The next 45 minutes were a blur of activity. So much so that I can only remember 2 of my 4 teammate's names off-hand. We were split into teams, whisked into an elevator and taken to the costume/photo area. My team was designated yellow, and as we were picking our clothing and dressing we were asked to think of a name. After the obvious banana and lemon choices were discarded, we chose "Caution Crue (creative spelling thanks to the producers of the show.)"
We were then taken to a room with a camera in it to choreograph and practice our dance, moved to a hallway with a mirror, taken to the performance space to practice microphone hand-offs, back upstairs for more rehearsal and finally to the performance space for the performance. Almost no time to get nervous at all!
Well, we kiiiiiiiiinda rocked. Caution Crue vs Thunder Coalition:
Whole episode available for a limited time:
http://www.hulu.com/watch/392125#s-p1-so-i0
Clip available for...?:
http://www.hulu.com/watch/392082
Well, needless to say, Caution Crue WON! And we got $300 gift certificates for J. Crew! And endless notoriety and fame!!! Well, I can dream...
After the show, and walking MANY blocks in the wrong direction (I blame exhaustion and lack of food!!!) we finally ended up at Pam Real Thai on 49th and 9th. Highly recommended and delicious.
Many many thanks to my companions for the day, and to everyone who watched the show JUST because I was on. I am honored and humbled that so many would take time for me. LOVE...
Lauren (with whom I went to Marvin Hamlisch's funeral earlier this week) asked me if I would like to come to watch a taping of Late Night with Jimmy Fallon yesterday. A few of her relatives are in town, including her mother Kathy (Queenie.) Queenie just happens to be my biggest fan from DC, and Lauren thought it would be nice if I could come over and surprise her at the show. As the day unfolded, however, it was I who received the biggest surprise of all!
I went to bed as soon as I got home so I could catch a few hours of sleep, knowing that I would be awake during my new "sleep time." Upon waking, I walked over to NBC studios to wait for them at Magnolia Bakery. I arrived a few minutes early, so I walked to a nearby Pret to grab a sandwich and gulp down a cup of coffee for reasons of alertness.
Arriving a few minutes ahead of them, I waited until Queenie walked by and squeezed her arm as she passed. Needless to say, surprise #1 was a big hit! :)
We entered the studio lobby, and once we finally figured out where we needed to be (and NARROWLY escaping expulsion by the powers that be because we were more than 4 people,) we were informed that there were dance auditions for the show that day. The accompanying yells of, "You should audition!" were rather hard to ignore, so after some coaxing and a promise from Aunt Peg that she would audition as well, I made my way to the line. Peg came a few minutes later, and we kept each other company until it was time to go downstairs for the audition.
The audition was one person at a time, and I got to watch the young man in front of me. We were told initially that we would be "taking instruction." The instruction was, "Give us some of your best dance moves. Just a couple of seconds."
WHAT? Oh boy... "That isn't taking instruction," I lamely joked. Ok... Pas de bourre, single turn, split! That oughtta seal my fate as the lamest audition of the day. I was certain they were looking for funny people.
Peg auditioned directly after me, and had a brain freeze. I think it was my split that threw her, but I know that if she had chosen to bust out her moves, she would have stolen the show!!! They herded us back upstairs to await our fate. 10 of us (ME!) were rapidly chosen, and asked to sign release forms.
The next 45 minutes were a blur of activity. So much so that I can only remember 2 of my 4 teammate's names off-hand. We were split into teams, whisked into an elevator and taken to the costume/photo area. My team was designated yellow, and as we were picking our clothing and dressing we were asked to think of a name. After the obvious banana and lemon choices were discarded, we chose "Caution Crue (creative spelling thanks to the producers of the show.)"
We were then taken to a room with a camera in it to choreograph and practice our dance, moved to a hallway with a mirror, taken to the performance space to practice microphone hand-offs, back upstairs for more rehearsal and finally to the performance space for the performance. Almost no time to get nervous at all!
Well, we kiiiiiiiiinda rocked. Caution Crue vs Thunder Coalition:
Whole episode available for a limited time:
http://www.hulu.com/watch/392125#s-p1-so-i0
Clip available for...?:
http://www.hulu.com/watch/392082
Well, needless to say, Caution Crue WON! And we got $300 gift certificates for J. Crew! And endless notoriety and fame!!! Well, I can dream...
After the show, and walking MANY blocks in the wrong direction (I blame exhaustion and lack of food!!!) we finally ended up at Pam Real Thai on 49th and 9th. Highly recommended and delicious.
Many many thanks to my companions for the day, and to everyone who watched the show JUST because I was on. I am honored and humbled that so many would take time for me. LOVE...
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
August 15, 2012
Funerals make me giggle. Perhaps this is just an Inappropriate Emotional Response (IER) or due to my having "different" views on death than most people. Either way, I find myself laughing my way through them.
An FB friend of mine from DC that I had not yet had the chance to meet in person invited me to Marvin Hamlisch's funeral yesterday. She is in the city for a month, and her mother has become a sweet presence in my life. I walked to the Temple as it was not far from my apartment, and was greeted at the door with a lyric sheet for "What I Did For Love." The pleasant woman who handed it to me said, "We will be singing for Marvin today." This was the last nicety I was to be offered by anyone associated with Temple Emanu-El. I then found Lauren immediately in her seat, and sat down next to her in the pew near the back of the large room.
I had my phone out (as did many others) to check Lauren and myself in at the Temple for this event, and had been sitting and chatting with her for less than a minute when the absurdity began. My FB app had barely opened when a Harpy from Hell with dyed red hair and a hateful tone descended upon me. "I want that phone turned off," she spat at me from between her dentures.
"Sure," I replied as I hastily searched to turn the ringer off.
"And I want it put away," she acidly added as she continued to stump up the aisle. I had no idea who this woman was. Was she the event coordiator? An usher with a vendetta? A woman of "God?" Just some random aisle-wandering bitch?
Now, mind you that the funeral was not starting for another half hour at this point. I slipped my now sure-to-be-silent phone into my pocket, and glanced around at all the other glowing screens around me. We had not been given any program or directives, nor were there any anti-cell phone signs lingering about. Why had I been singled out by this Shrew? Why was she so nasty? I would have gladly complied with her wishes without all of her bile-spewing.
About 5 minutes before the ceremony started, she made another pass. By this time the area around us had filled in almost completely. Lauren had regaled me with stories about the Wake she had attended the previous evening, and we had started to get to know one another.
"Put your cell-phone away, sir, and stop taking pictures! Use some discretion," we heard The Hag nearly screech from behind us. The man bumbled his apologies as she turned across the aisle to yell at another woman, "Put that away!"
Thankfully the service started, and we were spared any more cell-phone shamings for the rest of the ceremony. There was an awful moment when a cell-phone started ringing during one of the speeches. I am honestly surprised The Creature's head did not explode off of her body at that point! I did watch her flit from seat to seat along the edge of the room, however, shooting nasty glances at people who dared whisper or fidget. There was a gentleman who had brought two young and disruptive girls with him that sat right in front of us. If The Crone could have shot them dead with laser-darts from her eyes, they most certainly would have met their own demise this day.
Now. The problem with having a service with no bulletin for the audience is... the crowd has no idea what is expected of them. About 5 minutes into the program after the welcome, a large portion of the audience on both sides of the room stood up. Confused, we commoners in the back followed suit.
"Are we doing the wave?" Lauren asked as the standing reached us from the front. As we sat back down again almost immediately after standing as the sitting reached us, I replied, "I think we just did." This started me in fits of giggling. As the Chorus sang "The Way We Were," I tried desperately to stifle my laughter. As Lauren stated, we had just done the wave without arms. At a funeral.
The rest of the funeral was very reverent. Except for those young girls that I mentioned a few paragraphs earlier. Clearly the younger of the two was more interested in putting on her own show than being at a funeral for someone she didn't know. She did all the things that an undisciplined child will do in situations such as these; She fought with her sister, made noises with her lyric sheet until her dad took it away, screamed "Ow!" as often as possible, laid down in the pew, made noises with her shoes, asked why there wasn't more singing, clapped inappropriately, and had a staring contest with me which I ended by winking at her and then ignoring her. Yep. This is why I won't have kids. I don't want to be that guy that all the other adults sit around wondering whatever possessed him to bring his unruly spawn out in public. Plus shake-a-baby, but I digress.
Bill Clinton and others spoke, Idina Menzel sang (I happen to think "At the Ballet" was a WEIRD choice,) and I made irreverent remarks to Lauren under my breath so as not to alert the sensibilities of The Devil Incarnate who was always lurking nearby.
My next giggle fit started when the pall-bearers went to pick up the coffin. I really don't understand the desire to design elaborate and HEAVY boxes in which to put a decomposing body. Once that ornately carved box is underground, it is only going to decay. I could go on and on here. Don't even get me started on concrete mausoleums! But, I was talking about giggling.
So this heavy box was lifted (Marvin was not a small man,) and carried down the steps from the [altar?] (I honestly don't know what they call it in the Temple, but all I have as a reference are the Xtian terms for things in churches.) The men in front bore the heaviest part of the load, which caused them to walk quickly down the stairs. As we all know from being on the end of a crack-the-whip situation, this caused the men on the other end to almost have to run down the steps without losing their footing. As I watched this happen, images of a runaway casket began to play in my mind causing another round of laughter stifling. For some odd reason, they then hoisted the casket to their shoulders to carry it down the aisle, and then had to drop it again once they reached the back of the [sanctuary?] so they could get it out the door. Luckily all of this happened without having a jack-in-the-box corpse-surprise ending to the service.
Lastly came the parade of mourners led by his wife Terre. She had gotten through her dedication almost flawlessly, but by this time was sobbing uncontrollably. Friends and family followed quickly, causing Lauren to exclaim, "Liza's walking so fast!" Not fair, Lauren!
We were pretty hungry after all this hilarity, so we then went to celebrate our new friendship over margaritas at Arriba! Arriba! A perfect ending to the day. R.I.P Marvin Hamlisch. There is no doubt that you made quite an impact on this world during your time here.
An FB friend of mine from DC that I had not yet had the chance to meet in person invited me to Marvin Hamlisch's funeral yesterday. She is in the city for a month, and her mother has become a sweet presence in my life. I walked to the Temple as it was not far from my apartment, and was greeted at the door with a lyric sheet for "What I Did For Love." The pleasant woman who handed it to me said, "We will be singing for Marvin today." This was the last nicety I was to be offered by anyone associated with Temple Emanu-El. I then found Lauren immediately in her seat, and sat down next to her in the pew near the back of the large room.
I had my phone out (as did many others) to check Lauren and myself in at the Temple for this event, and had been sitting and chatting with her for less than a minute when the absurdity began. My FB app had barely opened when a Harpy from Hell with dyed red hair and a hateful tone descended upon me. "I want that phone turned off," she spat at me from between her dentures.
"Sure," I replied as I hastily searched to turn the ringer off.
"And I want it put away," she acidly added as she continued to stump up the aisle. I had no idea who this woman was. Was she the event coordiator? An usher with a vendetta? A woman of "God?" Just some random aisle-wandering bitch?
Now, mind you that the funeral was not starting for another half hour at this point. I slipped my now sure-to-be-silent phone into my pocket, and glanced around at all the other glowing screens around me. We had not been given any program or directives, nor were there any anti-cell phone signs lingering about. Why had I been singled out by this Shrew? Why was she so nasty? I would have gladly complied with her wishes without all of her bile-spewing.
About 5 minutes before the ceremony started, she made another pass. By this time the area around us had filled in almost completely. Lauren had regaled me with stories about the Wake she had attended the previous evening, and we had started to get to know one another.
"Put your cell-phone away, sir, and stop taking pictures! Use some discretion," we heard The Hag nearly screech from behind us. The man bumbled his apologies as she turned across the aisle to yell at another woman, "Put that away!"
Thankfully the service started, and we were spared any more cell-phone shamings for the rest of the ceremony. There was an awful moment when a cell-phone started ringing during one of the speeches. I am honestly surprised The Creature's head did not explode off of her body at that point! I did watch her flit from seat to seat along the edge of the room, however, shooting nasty glances at people who dared whisper or fidget. There was a gentleman who had brought two young and disruptive girls with him that sat right in front of us. If The Crone could have shot them dead with laser-darts from her eyes, they most certainly would have met their own demise this day.
Now. The problem with having a service with no bulletin for the audience is... the crowd has no idea what is expected of them. About 5 minutes into the program after the welcome, a large portion of the audience on both sides of the room stood up. Confused, we commoners in the back followed suit.
"Are we doing the wave?" Lauren asked as the standing reached us from the front. As we sat back down again almost immediately after standing as the sitting reached us, I replied, "I think we just did." This started me in fits of giggling. As the Chorus sang "The Way We Were," I tried desperately to stifle my laughter. As Lauren stated, we had just done the wave without arms. At a funeral.
The rest of the funeral was very reverent. Except for those young girls that I mentioned a few paragraphs earlier. Clearly the younger of the two was more interested in putting on her own show than being at a funeral for someone she didn't know. She did all the things that an undisciplined child will do in situations such as these; She fought with her sister, made noises with her lyric sheet until her dad took it away, screamed "Ow!" as often as possible, laid down in the pew, made noises with her shoes, asked why there wasn't more singing, clapped inappropriately, and had a staring contest with me which I ended by winking at her and then ignoring her. Yep. This is why I won't have kids. I don't want to be that guy that all the other adults sit around wondering whatever possessed him to bring his unruly spawn out in public. Plus shake-a-baby, but I digress.
Bill Clinton and others spoke, Idina Menzel sang (I happen to think "At the Ballet" was a WEIRD choice,) and I made irreverent remarks to Lauren under my breath so as not to alert the sensibilities of The Devil Incarnate who was always lurking nearby.
My next giggle fit started when the pall-bearers went to pick up the coffin. I really don't understand the desire to design elaborate and HEAVY boxes in which to put a decomposing body. Once that ornately carved box is underground, it is only going to decay. I could go on and on here. Don't even get me started on concrete mausoleums! But, I was talking about giggling.
So this heavy box was lifted (Marvin was not a small man,) and carried down the steps from the [altar?] (I honestly don't know what they call it in the Temple, but all I have as a reference are the Xtian terms for things in churches.) The men in front bore the heaviest part of the load, which caused them to walk quickly down the stairs. As we all know from being on the end of a crack-the-whip situation, this caused the men on the other end to almost have to run down the steps without losing their footing. As I watched this happen, images of a runaway casket began to play in my mind causing another round of laughter stifling. For some odd reason, they then hoisted the casket to their shoulders to carry it down the aisle, and then had to drop it again once they reached the back of the [sanctuary?] so they could get it out the door. Luckily all of this happened without having a jack-in-the-box corpse-surprise ending to the service.
Lastly came the parade of mourners led by his wife Terre. She had gotten through her dedication almost flawlessly, but by this time was sobbing uncontrollably. Friends and family followed quickly, causing Lauren to exclaim, "Liza's walking so fast!" Not fair, Lauren!
We were pretty hungry after all this hilarity, so we then went to celebrate our new friendship over margaritas at Arriba! Arriba! A perfect ending to the day. R.I.P Marvin Hamlisch. There is no doubt that you made quite an impact on this world during your time here.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
August 14, 2012
When I first moved to NYC, I started a diary of funny things that I saw/overheard on the Subway. I was reminded of this by a funny incident on my way to work last night. A young girl was sitting on the train with her parents standing near her. After a few moments of silence after their arrival in the car, the mother spoke up.
"There is to be no surfing on the train. It is the parent's responsibility to tell their children. It says so on the back of the card."
The father chimed in, and the daughter eventually replied, "What is surfing on the train?" A short discussion followed, wherein I believe the parents misinformed her that it was surfing on TOP of the train. New Yorkers will know that it is actually holding onto the outside of the car door-frame as the train leaves the station. (Anyone dumb enough to try this deserves their fate, which I suppose would be certain death.)
I had started to giggle to myself over their conversation already, when the daughter said, "I guess you should have known that I wouldn't have a clue as to what that was!"
Probably not the funniest exchange I've ever heard, but it did make me giggle over my game of Moon Chaser out loud, making the young woman next to me giggle as well. Rare train moments...
So, my birthday turned out as predicted. Work, then sleep, then... awake for a few hours until work the next morning. I was dog-sitting for Caren for the weekend, so I went to take care of Pebbles, and then headed to Shanna's Birthday BBQ in BK. It was quite lovely, and I met some new friends as well as catching up with a few old ones as well. HOWEVER, it caused me to stay up through my ENTIRE bedtime on Saturday. I made it to bed just as I should have been waking...
The next day was my Birthday Brunch with Kellee and Kim. A nice outing to Blockhead's for Bulldogs and Burritos. Mmmm. Then Kim and I headed home to move furniture around in the apartment, and I was finally able to head to bed at Caren's with Pebbles at 5:30pm where I slept 12 hours. Needless to say that by the time Monday afternoon rolled around I only slept 4 hours, and am kind of in misery right now... Ah well. That's what Birthdays are for, yes?
Now that Kim and I are in the larger bedroom I can get my stuff out of storage, buy a desk and a bed and hopefully get my life in order. Yay!
"There is to be no surfing on the train. It is the parent's responsibility to tell their children. It says so on the back of the card."
The father chimed in, and the daughter eventually replied, "What is surfing on the train?" A short discussion followed, wherein I believe the parents misinformed her that it was surfing on TOP of the train. New Yorkers will know that it is actually holding onto the outside of the car door-frame as the train leaves the station. (Anyone dumb enough to try this deserves their fate, which I suppose would be certain death.)
I had started to giggle to myself over their conversation already, when the daughter said, "I guess you should have known that I wouldn't have a clue as to what that was!"
Probably not the funniest exchange I've ever heard, but it did make me giggle over my game of Moon Chaser out loud, making the young woman next to me giggle as well. Rare train moments...
So, my birthday turned out as predicted. Work, then sleep, then... awake for a few hours until work the next morning. I was dog-sitting for Caren for the weekend, so I went to take care of Pebbles, and then headed to Shanna's Birthday BBQ in BK. It was quite lovely, and I met some new friends as well as catching up with a few old ones as well. HOWEVER, it caused me to stay up through my ENTIRE bedtime on Saturday. I made it to bed just as I should have been waking...
The next day was my Birthday Brunch with Kellee and Kim. A nice outing to Blockhead's for Bulldogs and Burritos. Mmmm. Then Kim and I headed home to move furniture around in the apartment, and I was finally able to head to bed at Caren's with Pebbles at 5:30pm where I slept 12 hours. Needless to say that by the time Monday afternoon rolled around I only slept 4 hours, and am kind of in misery right now... Ah well. That's what Birthdays are for, yes?
Now that Kim and I are in the larger bedroom I can get my stuff out of storage, buy a desk and a bed and hopefully get my life in order. Yay!
Friday, August 10, 2012
August 10, 2010
On this 37th year anniversary of the day of my birth, I will be celebrating... alone. Well, not reeeeeally alone. I am working, so I will be spending the day with my co-workers and the residents of 180 Montague St., and also a few of the lovely inhabitants of NYC. My roomies may by in my future this evening as well, because it is Friday night, and this usually brings them in later. My wake-up time is set for 1am, officially missing my Birthday, but I'd honestly rather have the sleep. If I'm feeling adventurous, I may venture out to a bar... probably not, though.
I don't mean to sound all depressed about this fact, however. Kellee has planned some sort of gathering (maybe Wing Bar!!!) on Sunday. Even if it just the two of us, I will be happy. Celebrations are often harder on me than not celebrating at all. Right now, however, the exhaustion from the new sleep schedule is what I am really fighting...
Ramble, ramble, ramble...
BIRTHDAY! blah.
And as my work day ends, I am feeling better. About one-million messages came in on my phone, but I really think it is the 2 cups of coffee that I pumped into my system today. Hopefully I can SLEEP!
I don't mean to sound all depressed about this fact, however. Kellee has planned some sort of gathering (maybe Wing Bar!!!) on Sunday. Even if it just the two of us, I will be happy. Celebrations are often harder on me than not celebrating at all. Right now, however, the exhaustion from the new sleep schedule is what I am really fighting...
Ramble, ramble, ramble...
BIRTHDAY! blah.
And as my work day ends, I am feeling better. About one-million messages came in on my phone, but I really think it is the 2 cups of coffee that I pumped into my system today. Hopefully I can SLEEP!
August 7, 2012
My first weekend off! It is hard to think of it in any sort of normal terms as my weekends are now Sundays and Mondays, and my sleep schedule is so different.
On Sunday, I was invited to brunch at Mike Shaieb and Brent Lord's amazing apartment in the West Village. As it was actually my "evening," I felt free to have a few glasses of... whatever it was they were serving. Some delicious mixture of wine and liquor. Mike made gluten free pancakes, and poached eggs paired with a whole strawberry and baby spinach salad. Amazing.
This same day, on the Sunday morning which is my afternoon, I got into some very heated debates on FB. I know, I know... It's completely pointless to argue over religion and politics on this waste of life called Facebook, but I want to be able to express myself without having some Xtian show up and tell me I'm intolerant. Just because I may point out how silly your beliefs are doesn't mean I am not allowing you to believe. If you get offended, it is only because you are insecure in those beliefs. Blah blah blah...
I don't get all the spitting going on in this city. Spit on the sidewalk, spit on the train platform, spit ON THE ROTATING GLASS DOOR OF MY BUILDING. Does spitting make you more of a man? Spitting, like smoking makes me so angry I could almost... spit!
On Sunday, I was invited to brunch at Mike Shaieb and Brent Lord's amazing apartment in the West Village. As it was actually my "evening," I felt free to have a few glasses of... whatever it was they were serving. Some delicious mixture of wine and liquor. Mike made gluten free pancakes, and poached eggs paired with a whole strawberry and baby spinach salad. Amazing.
This same day, on the Sunday morning which is my afternoon, I got into some very heated debates on FB. I know, I know... It's completely pointless to argue over religion and politics on this waste of life called Facebook, but I want to be able to express myself without having some Xtian show up and tell me I'm intolerant. Just because I may point out how silly your beliefs are doesn't mean I am not allowing you to believe. If you get offended, it is only because you are insecure in those beliefs. Blah blah blah...
I don't get all the spitting going on in this city. Spit on the sidewalk, spit on the train platform, spit ON THE ROTATING GLASS DOOR OF MY BUILDING. Does spitting make you more of a man? Spitting, like smoking makes me so angry I could almost... spit!
Monday, August 6, 2012
August 4, 2012
Update: The DVD that I bought a couple of days ago on the Subway appears to be blank. BUT, there is a link to some YouTube videos, and it turns out that the guy is a legit cartoon artist. Most of the work is VERY rough and could use better voice-overs, but at least he is doing what makes him happy.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
August 3, 2012
I went for a walk last night around 4:30am to find food, and also to take a gander at Times Square since I hadn't seen it for 2 1/2 years. So much has changed! It is starting to feel a little too slick. Tons of video screens and HUGE billboards wrapping entire buildings. It is still bright and shiny, but not as hodge-podge as it used to be. Kind of sad, but it is a constanly changing animal.
9th Ave is largely the same as I remember it being with most of the same restaurants. For that I am glad. At least there is something familiar not too far from the ever-changing sea that is T.S.
9th Ave is largely the same as I remember it being with most of the same restaurants. For that I am glad. At least there is something familiar not too far from the ever-changing sea that is T.S.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
June 13, 2012
Frustration: Do residents really think we have nothing better to do at the front desk than tend to their precious packages? Is there any reason you need to do so much internet shopping that you receive over 20 packages per week? REALLY? Your pasty face could use the sunshine and fresh air, and your blobby body could use the exercise. LEAVE YOUR APARTMENT ONCE IN A WHILE AND GO TO A REAL STORE.
August 2, 2012
First of all, I have to express my concern about how many gay men are using Meth in this city! Perhaps it is just because of the time I am awake, but this (combined with my Grindr use) has caused many men to ask me if I parTy. I had to put on my profile that I do not...
I forgot why the hookup game totally sucks. Now I remember. Gay men are bitches. Straight up bitches. I wanted to tell Carlo this morning that I "didn't care for Asshole for breakfast." Oh well. Weeding is part of the gardening.
NYC Subway is a marvelous place. Last night I was treated to a man ranting on the other end of the car about how it isn't "right" to be homosexual. This rant went on and on (with much repetition) about how he only likes women, and has sired 15 kids (OH, THANK YOU! What the world DEFINITELY needs is more trash like yourself running around.) After listening to him for a time, I was very tempted to actually move closer and begin asking him questions. Like, "If you are so deeply convinced that you don't want to touch dick, why must you proclaim it over and over again on the Subway?" Most straight men just keep that fact to themselves. Perhaps he was issuing a challenge...? I'll leave that one to someone else, thanks.
Once in a while, the Subway car will become a performance space. I have witnessed many young (mostly black) men showing off their B-Boy skills in the past. I am always amazed by their ability to keep from decapitating anyone that happens to be sitting nearby. Last night was the first time I witnessed one of the youngsters knock a cell-phone out of a rider's hands. Surprisingly, the (I assume) lesbian woman did not get up to perform a beat-down, but did pull herself back the next time he came to swing on the pole near her.
There was a beautiful couple on the train this evening. A sort of rare partnership that you don't see very often. It was heart-warming. :)
Yesterday morning on the way home, I bought a DVD for a dollar from a man who claimed to be the artist of the film. I need to watch it. He promised that it is a hand-drawn cartoon. Can't wait to see what it turns out to be...
Ah, NYC. How lovely to be back. Never a dull moment...
I forgot why the hookup game totally sucks. Now I remember. Gay men are bitches. Straight up bitches. I wanted to tell Carlo this morning that I "didn't care for Asshole for breakfast." Oh well. Weeding is part of the gardening.
NYC Subway is a marvelous place. Last night I was treated to a man ranting on the other end of the car about how it isn't "right" to be homosexual. This rant went on and on (with much repetition) about how he only likes women, and has sired 15 kids (OH, THANK YOU! What the world DEFINITELY needs is more trash like yourself running around.) After listening to him for a time, I was very tempted to actually move closer and begin asking him questions. Like, "If you are so deeply convinced that you don't want to touch dick, why must you proclaim it over and over again on the Subway?" Most straight men just keep that fact to themselves. Perhaps he was issuing a challenge...? I'll leave that one to someone else, thanks.
Once in a while, the Subway car will become a performance space. I have witnessed many young (mostly black) men showing off their B-Boy skills in the past. I am always amazed by their ability to keep from decapitating anyone that happens to be sitting nearby. Last night was the first time I witnessed one of the youngsters knock a cell-phone out of a rider's hands. Surprisingly, the (I assume) lesbian woman did not get up to perform a beat-down, but did pull herself back the next time he came to swing on the pole near her.
There was a beautiful couple on the train this evening. A sort of rare partnership that you don't see very often. It was heart-warming. :)
Yesterday morning on the way home, I bought a DVD for a dollar from a man who claimed to be the artist of the film. I need to watch it. He promised that it is a hand-drawn cartoon. Can't wait to see what it turns out to be...
Ah, NYC. How lovely to be back. Never a dull moment...
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