Spring Awakening

It has been beautiful in NYC the past few days. We finally exited our "we're just like Seattle!" phase and the rain finally left, and now Spring is in full effect. That's allowed for lying in the grass and relaxing/falling asleep/drooling in open public spaces, which also allows for overhearing conversations like this gem I caught while napping in the Cloisters in upper Manhattan this weekend:

"So the urethra was blocked!"

And after that, I heard no context to place it in. Could've been a patient, a person, a whale, whatever. For more great things overheard, check out Overheard In New York, the website of things....overheard in New York. Be warned, like New York, it is not for the faint of heart or the easily offended.

And, here's another Star 76 video, starring Bradford How and Chris Czyz.

Why You Should Constantly Be Plugged Into The Internet

I have been holed up for the past day editing a backlog of videos for various things, and on only the second day of this, I'm already feeling claustrophobic and hermit-ish. I always imagine what I'm missing in this great city, and today I'm sad to report that I missed this last weekend! And not due to doing actual work, but actually participating in a large scale prank for the brilliant Improv Everywhere.



















Check out the footage and pics from the 2007 Union Square Pillow Fight (courtesy of Brooklyn Vegan), and see what Union Square can be, other than the NYC equivalent to the Pit at UNC, and home to a snowboard contest.

NOTE: For any concerned, there's some possibly offensive language and a video of large pantsless and drawers-less man in the pillow fight link (he's blurred out though...sheesh*).

NOTE: For anyone else concerned, I just typed "sheesh", putting me in the same category of comedy journalists Marmaduke and The Family Circus.

"I'm Here For The....Apartment?"

When I saw this poster on the street, the last thing I thought they were advertising as "attractive" was "mortgage programs". Unless this is the newest venture of MySpace Realty. You're a genius, Tom.

Get A Plunger

I saw this sign was in the bathroom of a lovely NYC coffee shop. I refrained from stuffing paper towels down the bowl. However, it didn't stop me from stuffing other "inappropriate items":

A laugh at a funeral
White pants after Labor Day
A fat joke in front of my friend's overweight girlfriend
A question about salary to a stranger
Fart noises

Ha. That'll be clogged for days.

Don't Quote The Reaper

This morning during my commute on my beloved 1 train I was doing my usual Monday check-in with my fellow New Yorkers while standing pressed firmly betwixt them. (”Morning everyone...it's Monday...How were your weekends? Mine was fine, saw a movie, did some laundry, but don’t worry, I missed this crowded train, burying my face in your back, Man-in-Suit. Don't feel left out, Dominican-Youth, I longed to hear the tinny Reggaeton blasting from your earbuds and your too-loud iPod. And you, Wet-Behind-The-Ears-Blonde-Kappa-Delta-turned-Publishing-Hound, I missed sharing awkward stares with you as well as you manhandle that bagel.”)

In the fray of all this catch up, my eyes turned to tragedy. I noticed a roughed out tattoo on a man's forearm. It was a picture of the grim reaper, draped in his black robe and wielding that ominous scythe, staring at me with fiery piercing eyes. With his hand and one bony finger outstretched, he pointed to me menacingly, delivering a message of doom. This message, coincidently, appeared on a parchment banner below the feared reaper (Blue Oyster Cult, I'm sorry, but I FEAR him, I can’t help it):

"YOUR NEXT"

Wait...uh, does that mean I'm gonna die..or is he talking about "my" next (whatever that would be)? Because he clearly wasn't saying "YOU'RE NEXT". "YOUR NEXT" is what was written on the banner o' doom.

Now, as funny as this grammatical malfunction is, I feel a little bad for my fellow train buddy. Because without some seriously painful laser surgery, or some seriously diligent Sharpie work, that reaper - and that guy's arm - are forever marked with this faux pas, this confused message: Your Next....YOUUUUR NEXT!!!

It’s sort of like Dan Quayle’s misspelling embarrassment of 1992. The whole nation laughed at our former Vice President and it was forever burned into the annals of history (however, correctly spelled). But at least he just wrote his word on the chalk board and “Potatoe” isn’t emblazoned on his forearm. On a parchment banner. Below a skeletal potato. Holding a scythe. In a grim reaper outfit. Now that’d just be ridiculous all around.

This whole ordeal makes me thankful for spellcheck. As I’ve typed this I’ve misspelled no less than 37 words (I may not be able to spell...but I can count like Rain Man on ritalin!!). But my mistakes last no longer, because that cute/horrible animated paper clip in Microsoft Word fixed my mistakes for me. And he picks up grammatical errors too. Still, it’s easy to miss the “Your/You’re” combo – but a one two punch of proofreading & Paper Clip Word Assistant, and we get the job done – high five Paper Clip! Oh...you don’t have hands, just a little metal arm...yeah, a positive nod of the head suffices...good job, bud. Whew...awkward.

If only there was a way prevent these mishaps with permanent flesh art. That’s it – new challenge Bill Gates and Microsoft team! Come up with a spellchecker for the sultans of skin art! Save future generations of punks, thugs, tipsy girls on spring break (whoooa! I want a dolphin on the small of my back too! Jello shots!), and other tattoo buyers loads of embarrassment! Don’t back down Bill...I’m counting on you. Your our only hope.

Blonde Ambition

I saw a girl on the subway today wearing a shirt that read, "Life Is Better Blonde".

This girl was a Brunette.

I didn't know what to do, laugh or feel sorry for her. I mean, here she is, proclaiming that life is more fun, nay, more fulfilling, as a blonde - something she IS NOT. Did she know? She must have. Had she just given up? Probably. I mean, poor girl! Look at yourself!

I was felt pretty good about my situation in life - until I looked down at my "White People Suck" shirt.

To alleviate the embarrassment, I buried my face in my new book - which happened to be "Women Are From Venus, Men Are From The Pits of Hades And Should Go Back There Forever". I stand corrected.

Baby's First Birthday

Saturday was my one year anniversary of living in NYC (my NewYorkiversary as some friends deemed it). I celebrated with a traditional New York diner standard: an Egg Cream. An Egg Cream actually has neither eggs nor cream in it - just seltzer, chocolate syrup, and milk. It's a weird, carbonated Yoo Hoo.

So I enjoyed it alongside what I like to call a Turkey Roll - neither turkey nor a roll, but just oatmeal, raisins, and brown sugar. That's right New York. Two can play at that game.

Bringin' The Heat

It is officially Summer in New York City and this weekend Mother Nature put her gloves on, and punched New Yorkers in the face with the Summer heat. I was no exception.















Above: Mother Nature connects with a left hook of 91 degrees.

Affirmative Big Mac-tion

With new salads, parfaits, and beverage options, McDonalds is differentiating their menu and changing the image of the American fast food shrine. And they're holding to their diversity policy and hiring from all ethnicities. But come on McDonald's - we get it, you hire from all races. You don't need to brag every time you add another ethnic member to the team. Just sell food.

Brrrrrrrrrrr

It is really cold in New York City right now.

Brokeback Subway

This morning I got on the 8:30 subway to Times Square. Even though that's only 20 minutes later than my normal train, it is exponentially more crowded. As I transferred to the express train, I was enveloped in a sea of black coats as everyone crowded and pressed in closer than sardines, tight enough to make a spelunker claustrophobic. Would be passengers tried to muscle their way into the train until the doors did a reverse open-sesame and saved us from others trying to tighten our ride forward. Everyone was a little annoyed, sighing and resituating themselves to find extra pockets of space between each other, when a thug type guy beside me announced aloud, chuckling through a tough New York thug accent:

"I actually felt gay for a second there. I was all pressed up against a dude. Ha ha...."

Oh, Brooklyn Bound 2 Express Train... I wish I knew how to quit you.

Good To Know

Often when I wait for the subway I think about two things: where's that rat going, and what would I do if I fell on the tracks? The second question has caused me to come up with a few well thought out plans of escape. It's good to see that at least one of them works.

City Linguistics

Two new words created on the way home last night with two friends:

trainge (trayn-j) v.
1. To transfer or switch trains. I thought my friend said, "trainge" when she really just said "change" (referring to subway trains), but I thought "trainge" sounded cooler and decided to adopt it.

Urban Ringworm (er-bun reeng-wurm) n.
1. A fungal disease caught from the floor of Times Square subway station. Probably worse than regular ringworm.
We walked through the open lobby of Times Square station last night and no one was performing, but there was a man cleaning the floors.

"That's nice to know someone cleans these floors sometimes. I bet all the breakdancers here appreciate it, since they're spinning around on their bellies," Susan said. "It's so dirty."
"I bet those guys get ringworm," I said.
10 second pause.
"Urban ringworm," said Susan.

I Did It For Tupac

My friend Josh sent me this picture last week. I think it is HILARIOUS.








In the email he wrote, "Just in case you forgot which side you were from.", and the picture was called "Westside". Other than the picture looking like a Donald Rumsfeld cartoon character drawn for King of the Hill staring you down and throwning a gang symbol at you, it relates to an incident that happened to me up here that I recounted to Josh one afternoon......(begin wavy blur effect into flashback sequence)

I had just finished a long day at the office I was temping at and was ready for my favorite part of the day...the part where I loosened my tie, rolled up my sleeves, and picked out some music to listen to whlie walking through Grand Central in a homeward bound trance. This particular day I was especially tired, so much that I think I laid my head in my lap on the subway. After transferring to my third train I stood on the uptown #1 staring forward. I don't remember what I was listening to, but I think it was something slow and somber, which caused me to have the mobility of molasses at that point. Just then the train doors from the back of the car - right near me - open up and two high school aged guys enter. They're rowdy and laughing and then reveal that they're holding the door closed, keeping their other friend stuck outside between the moving subway cars (a great safe prank to pull on friends). They let their friend in, and one starts dancing wildly. Now sometimes, people just dance. Especially on the subway, I don't know why. I saw a guy today singing and dancing on a subway platform and doing a wonderful Michael Jackson. So this one kid could have been dancing normally, but he wasn't. He was being really obnoxious and not monitoring the funk in his trunk so much that he started bumping this lady beside me, to which she looked annoyed and embarassed and he just laughed and continued. My fatigue made me resent these youths and for some reason i felt bonded to my other subway riders - we just all wanna get home kids. Let us be. So, as Dance Machine continued on, another one of the guys, who looked a little like Snoop Dogg, he had that hair that looked like little girls' crazy pigtails that Snoop wears, this guy starts "G"-ing out, rapping to himself and making weird hand motions. I watched with intense, fixed eyes. Then, Young Snoop looked up and his eyes met mine. Bobbing his head back and forth to the thug anthem playing in his mind, he starts staring me down and posing the rhetorical question of the ages, the one every young lost soul asks themselves when it's time to take a stand: "Are you east side, or west side?" Now for some reason unbeknownst to me, I decided, "I'm not going to buckle. I'm gonna stare this guy right back in his face and I'm not even gonna blink." I don't make this a usual habit with young thug types that travel in packs, but what the heck. Snoop Jr. continued his bobbing and interviewing me about which coast I preferred. "East Side, or West Side?" Finally, with a look on my face tougher than Ralph Macchio, I held my gaze with his eyes and slowly raised my left hand. I turned the back of my hand to him and crossed my middle finger over my ring finger whlie tucking my thumb into my palm and spreading out my pointer and pinky fingers thus making the declaration: I was West Side. I displayed my sign like a determined player in a Rock, Paper, Scissors game and held my gaze firm. Just then, the train stopped. Dance Pants stopped and saw my claim and exclaimed, "Oh! He's West Side!" and then the three of them exited the train.
I stood for a second calmly and was proud of myself. I stood my ground. Those kids were being obnoxious, rebel rousing, and I showed them what's what. I've had a long day at the office, and I, or any other of my laboring brothers or sisters, don't deserve to be patronized by Bone Thugs N' Harmony on our way home. I couldn't believe I just stared at the guy and did that - I even thought about how I know how to spell the word "BLOOD" out of my fingers, and I should've thrown that little gang sign at them. Yeah, that would've been tight. Then I started to come back to reality a bit.
THANK GOD I DIDN'T GIVE THEM THE "BLOOD" SIGN! THAT WOULD'VE BEEN TOTALLY STUPID!!! I don't care if those kids were just kids and it was only 5:45pm in the afternoon, that's not smart to throw those symbols at random guys who challenge you in the subway! Plus, I'm not even on the West Side! I mean, I do live on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, but that's not the same as rap terms! Rap terms are East Coast, West Coast. I was really throwing it out there being on East Coast turf and claiming West Side allegiance.
As I exited the subway, I thanked God for allowing me to not be the next victim of a gang hit. As a young white man in a tie probably listening to Radiohead or some other thugless sounds, I felt I had just escaped a brush with something possibly way tougher than I. And I walked away clean. Score another one for my West Side gangstas....


peace out,


Thug Angel

Soaked

The weather in New York is just nasty right now. It has been raining since Saturday and just continues. One of my roommates just walked in from out in the elements and said, "It's not nice outside. I never want to go out again." Friends, it is this bad.

I spent much of yesterday out in the elements mailing things for work, and I picked possibly the worst day in a while to check out a new grocery store just north of us close to Harlem. It was on this grand day out I met my new nemesis. It was not nature itself or a fellow citizen piloting a taxi through a lake sized puddle and spraying me with a tidal wave collected rain. No. It was one of my own, one that I trusted, and he buckled under the pressure. In all honesty, he just wasn't built for this, the powerful gusts, these mighty expectations on his frail frame.




















Rest in peace, my fallen protector. May there be sunny skies for you up there in the great beyond. And may your lifetime warranty work to bring one of your brave friends to me soon.

The Office

Wow, it's good to be back! Hello world, daddy's home! I mean, people was like, "Where are you? Why aren't you on the blog?" And I was like, "Calm down Jada Pinkett-Smith, I'll get to it when I got time, girlfriend. Besides, while you're sweatin' me, where's you're jiggy husband, girl? And what are you doing on Ozzfest? I mean, step off"
Anyway, the past couple weeks have been pretty crazy. I've moved apartments, traveled, turned a year older, and spent some time in the trenches of the 9 to 5 corporate world. And also I've watched "9 to 5" with Dolly Parton, an insane movie, that is worth a watch if you haven't seen it, especially for the 3 dream sequence/fantasy scenes.

I spent two weeks temping at a large construction firm, in their HR department. What this meant was I got to file papers for 8.5 hours a day. While testing my extreme limits of boredom, this job also allowed me insider's access into employee files where I could read productivity reports, goal tracking sheets, termination letters, praises and reprimands, pretty much any info on the employee the company had on each employee.
My favorite bit of info was a letter of resignation written from an employee. It read:

" Dear Sirs: I have enjoyed my years with this company and the training and growth I experienced here. However, I must move on and my resignation is effective 2 weeks from this date. I apologize for any incontinence. "

I suppose if I dealt with any incontinence while with a company I would want to clear it up in my resignation letter as well.

When I moved to New York I had a fantasy about the business world. I always thought it would be cool to have a business job and get dressed up in a suit everyday and go to work in the daily rush. Due to financial reasons recently, I had to go to a temp agency and get the HR job I've been talking about. This was my big chance to live my big city business job dream and join the hustle bustle life. Welllllll, long story short, that fantasy wore off when I was in the temp agency office and I realized I'd actually have to work 9 - 5 and that wouldn't actually be that cool. At least I got this picture which represents my idealized view of what this life would've been like. Trust me it wasn't this cool. Not when I got to the office and the big news was that there was a new coffee machine in the breakroom. And then finding out that the coffee machine did the exact same thing, same kinds of coffee, just a new look, new buttons. Added mystery...that was not so mysterious.

I do have to say that the people I worked with were nice. So if they ever google this and read this, they'll know that it wasn't them that caused me to write about all this. But if they have googled this and read all this way thinking they may find some dirt on themselves, all to realize that I was just bored with a mundane job, well, I apologize for any incontinence.

"alright already" or "it feels good to know people actually read this"

Well hello again. I was going to go to bed but I saw a comment posted requesting an update and it is due time. So i'll brave through the late hours and post. My plan has worked and I've baited you into wanting more.......ah hahahahaha. and thanks for wanting more.

You may be saying "my gosh, couldn't you post more than that one in a week? I mean, it's not too hard. What do you do all day?" Well, aside from my freelance edit job right now, I'm not doing any more work yet (read those italics...yet), but I do have to do other things here. Like hang out with P. Diddy a lot, and things like play street ball with Patrick Ewing's nephew two blocks from me, etc., etc., etc. It's a busy life here in the NYC, folks.

But I did manage to get some stuff together. By the way, gross things that have happened lately: today i spilled water on the bathroom floor (read: new york city bathroom floor, even in your own apartment - DIRTY). I decided to wipe it up with my bath towel because it was time to change towels. I hung it back up and said to myself, "Tomorrow morning when you get in the shower, REMEMBER TO GET A NEW TOWEL." 10 minutes ago, I wiped my face dry with the same towel and then remembered it graced the floor 12 hours ago. Gross.

NEW PICTURE:




















"Uh, okay man. But you're wearing a suit."
"Seriously, paint on me."
"Whatever you say dude. Here goes...."

Also, while exploring the Lower East Side this week, I passed two women walking and picked up on this conversation tidbit:
Woman to other woman walking with her (in a heavy New York accent):

"I mean you don't have a job and I'm on social security......AND WE LOVE IT."


She sounded really confident, like she really did love it and she was just riding the wave. Do it lady, do it.

There is a hungarian pastry shop around the corner from me that I sat in the other day and did some work. It's aptly named, The Hungarian Pastry Shop (hey, if it ain't broke.....). It's an artsy inspiring place. I took this picture while I was there. It's called "Hungarian Romance".















Quaint, isn't it? Yeah, whatever.
God bless.....

so this is a little random, but here's a start

Hello, and welcome to writings about new york city and me, finally written to you from me in new york city. Yes, i finally moved to new york as of the 24th of July and now live in Manhattan, on the upper part of the upper west side in the upper part of an apartment building.

So, welcome. To be honest, there are a lot of people with blogs written from new york (really...in New York City...No way!!!...yes, yes I know it's crazy but believe me it's true...) and a lot of them are really funny and insightful, etc. etc. Now i'm not gonna go shooting myself in the foot saying, "i'm not good enough to write interesting stuff....'. No, more of my problem is, I don't know what the heck to write about. We live in this over informed society now, and so everyone has tons of things to say and you can tell anyone anywhere about the brilliant idea you just had about how text messaging is limiting and evil, via a text message, or any other communication device. Anyway, my point is, what can i write that is of interest so I and my 5 friends can log on and read it repeatedly (them: once, me: repeatedly)?

To solve this debacle, I've been brainstorming about interesting things to post. I have a camera usually kept in my bag, with which i can catch interesting pictures around the city, and once a week give you a taste of the most interesting thing i saw. Also, in light of my moving, i thought of the total number of times i've moved since I graduated college. Total? 14. Total number of roommates in those years who have gotten married soon after our living together? 9. Interesting...sort of.

Other interesting things I could post include interesting things I overhear as I pass people on the street. Tonight on the way home outside a bar half a block from my apartment, I heard a girl on the phone give me this week's winner:

Girl on phone:
"Hello? My friend just swallowed a quarter.
Is that ok? Can he pass that?"

Priceless.

Also, I leave you with this picture:















In the top right corner: rat running up the stairs outside my building.

Welcome to New York.

ready and red eyed

Yesterday i worked an 18 1/2 hour day. Needless to say i feel like this:



Anyway, for some reason I want to keep on with the task of posting these pictures. And telling you about the ends of the trip which ended 2 weeks ago. The last day of the trip Zach and I walked to work together. When i say work i mean Zach went to his job at a consulting company and I went to the improv theater.



The week rounded out well with both teams from my class completing some great long form improv shows. 25 minutes of pure hilarity made up on the spot. It was amazing let me tell you. From someone who was up there on the stage, it was stupendous. I am so tired. I think I spelled stupendous wrong. I don't know. Man, this blog thing, you have to write a lot. Who is actually reading this? I think i am occasionally, but i don't know who else is. Anyway, Cory, here's the rest of the pictures for today. Enjoy.


Grand Central is still such a nostalgic place. especially when you turn your camera to the sepia setting.


Sunny New York outside Grand Central.


Saw this sticker on a door when i was leaving the subway early Saturday morning. Not saying I believe it, but man, it's a cool sticker.

After I departed the city, I went on to my sister's in Connecticut where we had a great easter and I slept and picked my nose apparently. It was awesome!



Ok. Go to bed. I'm talking to me.

the details slowly creep out.....

So, i'm back in NC and have been since Tuesday, but i wanted to continue some of this, since i have some pictures that i never sent out. As time went on, time grew shorter and I couldn't get to the computer to email or update. But I took some pictures. Others will follow, but for now here's some I took walking home Thursday night. Union Square is always buzzing with activity.....this is what it'd look like if you held your eyes open a lot so that things blurred. Or half closed them. Whatever. More later.