once a NY asshole, always a NY asshole

today was my first day back visiting WI before i move to atlanta. i spent the afternoon hitting up target, famous footwear, and the post office. yep - it only took one day to become a suburban housewife.

i went to the post office completely unprepared. no pen, no box to ship the item, nothing. luckily the madison post office is nothing like the brooklyn post office. along with the standard issue boxes, they keep a roll of special issue tape around and some good samaritan left a pen for people to use when addressing boxes. it took me no time to tape a box together and weigh out the correct postage. i wanted to include a quick note in the box and hadn't brought in any scrap paper. it just so happened that the guy in front of me at the automated postage machine had left his receipt. perfect. i could be a recycler AND include a note in the box. i write a quick note, place it in the box and tape it up. just as i'm putting the package into the chute for it to be shipped off, the guy in front of me comes back with an employee. he's looking for his receipt. too late. the box is in the chute, completely taped up. i just can't bring myself to confess.

i guiltily leave the premises. as i leave i overhear a plan to pull up the information on the computers and print out a new receipt. that doesn't change the fact that i'm the asshole in the situation. guy seeking his receipt i'm really sorry, but once it's down the chute it's lost forever. i hope you understand.

graduation

yesterday marked my last day as a NYC citizen. i'm sad about leaving my friends, the 24 hour pizza joints, the brownstones of brooklyn, and many other things, but excited for the prospect of beginning my "adult" life. in commemoration of my departure, i've compiled a list of my favorite memories (in random order):

- exploring the "forgotten" borough of staten island. rhythm and booze, the SI ferry, bbq pizza, with a finale at a downtown diner. all on a sunday afternoon.

- finer things club. we'll now be able to add trips to savannah, but it will never rival the adventures had in the greater 5 boroughs.

- brooklyn alliance. the few, the proud, the f and g train riders. those manhattan kids never truly understood.

- amateur burlesque night at galapagos. i certainly never performed, but the tribute to abe lincoln will be forever etched in my brain.

- first dates at the gate. minus the belgian sour ale. check please.

- group gchats. this will continue into my life in atlanta, but still deserves to be on the list.

- searching for bahn mi in chinatown. we never found what we were looking for exactly, but the journey was half the fun.

- old glory specials at cherry tavern. always a terrible idea in the morning, but a whiskey and PBR for under $5 is never a bad idea at the time.

- lifetime movies and wine in harlem. i am not ashamed.

- day trips to coney island. god, nathan's, and the wonder wheel can be found there.

- beer pong at whiskey river. what better way to show off eye-hand coordination?

- above ground subways. the D, Q, J always gave the best view of the city.

- the brooklyn flea. long live hillbilly gold.

- oko. frozen greek yogurt and fruit. let's pretend we're being healthy.

- attempting to go to free concerts. they were always too overrun with hipsters to actually make it in, but the events that ensued post-attempt was always worth the disappointment.

- visits from cloud. cheesy poofs, photo booths, phat farm, and leprechauns.

- alligator lounge. if i hadn't moved away from that place i would be a full-fledged member of pizza addicts anonymous.

- outdoor drinking, especially during the day. no one judges when everyone gets around via cab.

- the beer garden. see above.

- the walk from 42nd to union square. highlight had to be walking 30 blocks next to david from newsies.

- the chicken place. only dining establishment in midtown i'll miss.

- sunny days in prospect park.

- eve's in astoria. those women are vastly underpaid for their skills.

- failed rec teams. namely kickball.

- the evolution of pearl and the beard. they started with a handful of family and friends at free shows, now they're about to embark on a legit tour.

- amNY crosswords on the daily commute. my day always felt off if i didn't finish by the time i made it to the bryant park stop.

- dram shop sports viewing. that poor server was always there.

- craigslist roommates. out of two there's always one nutjob and one keeper.

i hope if/when i leave the south, i'll have as worthy of a list. it will probably reference just as much food.

naked time

"i went out onto the back porch yesterday and i saw a chipmunk so i said outloud, "ew what are you?" then i noticed the next door neighbor sneak back inside. i think they may have been naked."

- text from my sister

i miss her.

this only happens to me

or so i've been told by multiple people. especially this week.

i scheduled an appointment a few weeks back to get a consult for wisdom teeth removal. i've needed to get them out since i was 14 but have just continually pushed it back. i ran out of excuses the last time i got my teeth cleaned. i figured it was just time to grow up and get it done. how often to do you hear of 50 year olds getting their wisdom teeth out? drooling and vicodin is cool when you're younger - not so much when your kids see you flopped on the couch in a prescription drug-fuelled catatonic state.

my appointment was at 5pm on wednesday. i bailed out of work a bit early (quitting time for me is usually in the 7-8pm range) and walked the 3 blocks to the appointment. this is one of the great conveniences of working in midtown. typically there is a handful of non-sketchy establishments for health-related needs. unfortunately there is also typically a larger array of sketch-tastic places that I wouldn't will anyone to even bum a glass of water from the establishment much less entrust them to extract a tooth. the place i go to isn't uber pretentious but it did get some pretty stellar reviews from some coworkers so i gave it a shot.

i walk in to the appointment, where a hygienist promptly take me in for xrays. afterwards, she takes me into an examination room - a one swanky enough for there to be a TV and phony dental portraits that were taken in the last five years. the doctor comes in 5 minutes later with my x-rays.

"ok, the left ones look pretty easy to take out. we're just gonna do those today and then you can come back in a few weeks for the right side."
"so you're just gonna take them out today?"
"is that a problem?"
"i guess not"

so the doc shot me full of novocain and yanked them out. when i say yank, i mean pliers and all. it was like every dental horror movie rolled into one. it didn't hurt - i was completely numb - but it was weird feeling some virtual stranger pull and prod and eventually force out two teeth that had been with me since adolescence.

i left the building with a mouth full of gauze, a numb face, and a prescription for antibiotics and tylenol with codeine. the pain wasn't too bad - even when the anesthesia wore off and i stopped drooling uncontrollably. i put some ice on my jaw when i went home, and bit on some teabags and slept right through the night. the next morning, i went to work as though there weren't two gaping holes in my jaw (i guess that's not entirely accurate since they're mostly sewed shut). i felt fine, not terrible enough to merit missing work. from all of the horror stories i've heard from people, it was sort of absurd to be there. half my friends speak of their wisdom teeth removal as if they had a lung removed. it entails blood, gore, days of painkillers, and the dreaded DRY SOCKETS. granted, i still i'm not out of the woods completely 4 days later, but i felt sort of foolish being at work right after something like that and didn't tell anyone about the ordeal until mid-way through the afternoon.

once i told the story, it traveled through my entire team. the first response, "this would only happen to you." since i've recounted the tale, i've gotten that from additional friends and MY MOM. thanks, i guess.

it's a small world after all

last night i went to go see jocelyn's band play. they were opening for their buddies' album release party at webster hall. her band went on at 8:30, then the main act was at 10. i was recovering from my widsom teeth removal (a forthcoming post will recount that experience) so the plan was to go to the show then head home early. a surprising number of my friends had showed up to the show - very surprising since usually whenever i put out the invite i get a whole lot of maybes and a whole lot of reinforcement that it's good that i like to do things solo. so here we were waiting in between jocelyn's show and the main act, when who do i see standing less than 5 feet away?

my prom date.

turns out andrew lives in brooklyn too. and has for the past two years. we both were in complete shock and actually struggled to formulate coherent sentences for the first few minutes of conversation. it was one of those moments that really makes me appreciate my high school experience. for all those people who felt they had an awkward and cringe-worthy four years, i feel my high school was a great exception. yes, we as people were super awkward, but we were awkward together. i ran into a good 3/4 of my high school at a bar over christmas and realized how happy i was that i can look back and feel grateful that i shared the experience with such an eclectic group of people. andrew and i hadn't seen each other in almost 8 years, but we could talk as if we has stayed in touch since the day he was voted prom king (true story - my date was crowned king). only in new york can you be thousands of miles away from home and run into the guy who 8 years ago sang american pie with you and your closest friends around a campfire while drinking natty lite post prom.

GTL...part 2

the world was swept away by the jersey shore. or at least everyone in my world was fascinated by MTV's lowlifes. their lack of manners, stupidity, and well stupidity made for great TV. i watch my share of good shows and really have no guilt about spending an hour a week watching 6 idiots try to find mates on a dirty boardwalk.

season 1 ended somewhat predictably. jwoww ended up with her boyfriend who sent her the "rarest roses eva" (blue ones), snooki's 15 minutes of fame includes her pushing tanning products and being the word's largest proponent of the "bumpit", and the man who swore his #1 rule was to not fall in love at the jersey shore left in a serious relationship with a girl who broke up with him because he said she had a "fred flinstone toe". this is TV at its finest.

for all the talk about "jersey shore", MTV seems to be the only one who realizes their "talent" will be lucky to survive a second season. like all reality shows, once the first season (or less) is done, you just get a bunch of people who are playing towards the camera. "classic" moments like jwoww's proclamation of eating ham instead of cheating with her boyfriend are going to be completely contrived. girls will hook up with mike "the situation" because he's "the situation". not because he's s dude who looks 45 but has a nice 6 pack that he shows off at the bar. pauly d's DJing is probably sub par, but he's already blowing up the tabloids with his favorite "love" mixes for valentine's day. and snooki will finally find a guy to hook up with, one who likes her "for who she is"...

by the time season 2 airs, we'll all have found a new bunch of trainwrecks to follow. i'm not saying i won't watch, but it would be nice to watch the second season of something where you know a producer isn't involved in the mix.

where were you the night of the 1st?

i have been trying to pinpoint why i have had writer's block lately. i fear it's because i've become boring. i get up, when i'm lucky i hit the gym, and spend 9-11 hours at the office. go home, attempt to make a meal, watch some tv, read, then go to bed. i can figure out what day it is by what's on TV or which client status meeting i had in the afternoon. weeks and months blend together. goal for 2010: try to remember on friday what i did on monday. the more i watch these crime dramas, i realize i would make a terrible witness. they say everyone actor in NYC has been in an episode of "law and order". i best practice in case life ever imitates art.

only freshman

"for the life of me - i cannot remember. what made us think that we were wise and never compromised"

oh the verve. this song has been running through my head all day. why? because i belted it out in a real-life version of rock band into the wee hours last night. why? because i'm an idiot. and a really awesome wingman.

though it doesn't seem like it from my posts, i don't go out very hard most nights. it's rare that i venture out more than one night during the weekend and school nights are reserved for QT with the DVR unless it's a special occasion. somehow though, i find myself still getting into ridiculous late night situations. somehow i manage to push back any thoughts of bedtime at a decent hour and proceed into the murky abyss of karaoke at 5am. and this is how it happens...

i started the evening with a few glasses of wine at dinner with my dad. i met some friends at a classy joint where i sipped on jameson and ginger ale. 2 to be exact. after these drinks, the responsible thing would have been to have a nightcap and then head home.

instead me and my friends decided to continue to quench our thirst at another nearby establishment. this place was rowdy. rowdy enough that i agreed to take a shot. rowdy enough that we closed down the bar. rowdy enough that it seemed like a great idea to join some new friends at their studio at an abandoned milk factory. what i'm leaving out of this story was the purpose of me coming along. i was wingman for the evening. arguably the world's best wingman in the history of all wingmen for what went down.

i tell this story as a warning. kids - don't ever agree to hang out at a studio that some guys rent out by themselves at an old factory in wisconsin. it's guaranteed that they're probably really terrible musicians. it's also a lesson in which band members to hang out with. it's probably also guaranteed that the drummer and the keyboard player won't be the best vocalists. nor the best guitar players.

all this information is great to know in hindsight, but when you end up participating in a 3-hour "jam session" that includes such green day favorites as "basketcase", "boulevard of broken dreams" on repeat, there's a lesson to be learned.

nothing good happens after 2am. especially if it involves musical instruments. and spiked egg nog.

"my shadow's the only thing that walks beside me..." my shadow is feeling pretty rough today. pretty rough indeed.

shine on

i officially have a thanksgiving tradition. if you complete something 2 times it's a fun repeat; the third time indicates it's a tradition. 3rd annual also means it's necessary to make t-shirts to mark the occasion. the tradition goes as follows:

night before thanksgiving - i ride the penn station bus to rosslyn, va. per tradition, i also sit next to an odd older man who is not old enough nor odd enough to weird me out. just enough for me to take notice and watch my belongings.

i spend the evening at the home of my friend tracy (now mrs. casey).

we wake up, shower, put on jeans to pretend like we're leaving the house, but just watch football and eat for the remainder of the day. casey is forced to go to boston market to purchase our "turkey for 3"; we leave the couch long enough to make green bean casserole to complement the ready-made meal. after 3 years of boston market, we have yet to figure out why exactly they have a meal for 3, but we don't question the awesomeness of the deal, nor the 3 sides that accompany the turkey and gravy.

after dinner we half-heartedly throw out potential activities that would involve leaving the apartment: shooting pool, darts, etc. a pseudo-lengthy debate ensues until we decide to watch a movie on the couch.

friday morning we head out to the mountains. prior to entering the wilderness, we stop at virginia's version of culver's - aka spelunker's. the color, taste, clientele all scream culvers, right down to the cerulean pleather booths.

we end our last civilian journey by hitting up the gas station restrooms. while i have to say the outhouse accommodations have improved vastly since our first-year's cabin (we wore clothespins on our noses until we had drank enough to not notice the smell)it's no bathroom with an attendant. or really anything beyond a hole in the ground with a toilet seat.

when entering the state park, it's mandatory to play john denver. we have to take the battered road carefully; the treacherous roadway taunts casey's ford focus. one of these years we may have to abandon the car on the road.

friday night it's just the three of us: casey, tracy, and myself. we spend a few hours searching for firewood and setting up the cabin. darkness sets at 5pm - time for dinner and to crack open our first drinks. as any good wisconsinite would, we drink miller lite or mgd with dinner but have a nice cocktail as an appetizer before our meal. since we're "adults" now, the drink of choice is an old fashioned.

we don't have electricity in our humble abode so dinner is cooked over the stove and a tiny gas cooker casey has from camping. this year we managed to make curried chicken and rice. (we're way craftier than we sometimes appear). after dinner it's time for games. it's customary to play at least one game of oregon trail, a drinking game (naturally) that i created a few years back from a deck of cards. sixes are the worst: "oxen died. mystery flask." the first year we went camping, casey brought a flask in which he had no idea the type of alcohol. from that year on, he takes it upon himself to bring the flask with a new poison. no one is allowed to speak of what's in it until everyone has tried it. year one was whiskey, year two was peach schnapps, and this year it was tequila. the kicker was that the flask still smelt of the schnapps. speaking from experience, it's pretty brutal to take a sniff of faux-peaches before gulping down a swig of jose. another staple of friday night is scrabble. there's really nothing funnier than playing scrabble by candlelight and headlamps. bedtime resides somewhere around 10:30 or 11. there's something about hitting total darkness by 5pm that evokes an early bedtime. no wonder the settlers got up at dawn every day.

day 2 begins with the three of us slaving over the stove to make breakfast and coffee. we're not fancy enough to grind our own stuff; we just make the instant java. all of us have worked in the corporate world long enough to be able to down the really crappy brew. the first part of our morning is spent scouring the woods for firewood until the arrival of the rest of the crew. with the exception of myself, all other members of the cabin team are DC friends (and sometimes their significant others) of casey and tracy. i see these folks once a year - and always after i have been in the woods sans shower overnight. at casey and tracy's wedding this fall, i saw a handful of the cabin crew and one of the girls couldn't quite place me in "real-life" clothing:

"hey! i didn't recognize you without your bandana!"

our group of 10 mainly consists of wisconsin transplants. this means that it's necessary for at least 3 members of the group to bring brats, and any salads include blocks of cheese. once everyone gets settled into the cabin, we go on a hike. last year, we tried to do a 2.6 mile hike (each way) to the end of one of the trails. after a good few hours of hiking, we were convinced we had missed a turn. this year we had a GPS watch tracking our distance. turns out we needed to hike another 40 minutes or so to get to the end. after our hike, it's cocktail hour. basically that means we don't play any drinking games while sipping our beverages.

the next few hours mainly consist of multiple rounds of food: chili, pasta salad (with cheese, of course), brats, hot dogs, kabobs, brownies, smores. really there's no particular order to any of it; it's not unusual for anyone to finish up a few smores with a brat. in between rounds of food are rounds of catch phrase and/or card games, all of which necessitate the need to utilize the mystery flask. this year we had the special treat of authentic moonshine (corn whiskey). that stuff is a brutal combination of shitty alcohol and the faint taste of stale popcorn.

per the usual, we're all in bed by midnight (it's easier to stay up later with a big group). we wake up early and start the day with a meal of leftovers and some sort of bacon product. then it's time to head home: everyone else makes their way back to the burbs, i load onto the bus (hopefully after a shower) for my ride back to ny. all in all it's a tradition that can't be beat. we're already starting to brainstorm t-shirt ideas for next year.

the way you've always been

my first friend in NY that i didn't know from the midwest was my roommate jocelyn. she has previously been mentioned as a ringleader of awesomeness in some of my more debaucherous tales while living in brooklyn, but has steered clear of any recent blog acknowledgements as of late mostly because of my detour in queens and her starting a band.

recently i've been able to make it to more of her shows. i realized a few months ago that i was a total slacker the past year in making time for extra curricular activities. a good portion of that had to do with my heath (read: gallbladder/gluten fiascos of the last 14 months) but i came to discover that i was doing a crappy job of keeping up with my friends. while "adult jeni" still needs to get at least 8 hours of rest whenever possible, i've made it a priority to make it out to see people on a regular basis - especially whenever they are showing off any of their skills.

jocelyn is a fountain of craftiness. there is nothing that she can't do - with the exception of anything related to watching/participating in organized sports. i have no doubts that she would master "playing" any game she chose, but that's not really her style. she has plenty of other things to fill her days/nights: burlesque dancing, knitting, drawing, and writing/singing songs that are so masterful i sometimes watch in wonder as to how this girl and i shared a 400 sq ft apartment (with another roommate, no less) for a year and i only had small hints into her creative genius in musical endeavors.

we've never lost touch over the past few years. it gets hard to get together often since our schedules are so off from one another, but we have remained in constant contact throughout even after her stint back in jersey with her parents, breakups, and borough hopping.

last night i went to her show at a bar in greenpoint. it was the final stop of the bands tour - i was also fortunate enough to make it to their first show in the tour (they started and ended in NYC).

the place was packed wall-to-wall with people as it grew nearer to when it was time for pearl and the beard to go on. people were constantly coming up to jocelyn to congratulate her; there was a constant stream of fans tipping their drinks to her as she bounced around the space prior to when they went up.

somehow in this craziness, jocelyn and i had a moment to talk. the crowd was getting revved up, the previous band was great but it was obvious the great majority of the crowd had come specifically to see jocelyn and her bandmates perform. she looked around at the crowd and then gave me a huge grin.

"do you remember when we were living in that apartment and how i said i wished i would do music again?"
"of course i do. i remember one of your first shows when it was just you and jeremy and your little xylophone. there were probably 10 people in the room counting you guys."
"it just makes me so happy that there are so many people here that love what i'm doing and who loved me when i wasn't doing music."

when the band went up to play, the band could have forgotten all of the words and it wouldn't have mattered. the crowd knew all the songs, shouted out requests, and booed when the venue wouldn't let the band play an encore (the sets were already an hour behind).

i meet probably 10 people a year who say they want to do x,y, and z. they should be an actor, a business professional - whatever. jocelyn is the only one i know who has made it happen.

this is her in action: