Archive for November, 2005

November 27, 2005 | Filed under: Uncategorized

Click on the picture of…whatever the hell that is…or here for a Quick Time clip of this year’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in NYC. Three hours of entertainment whittled down to 2.4 minutes. Note: there’s a weird minute long dead screen at the end of the video, I don’t know why. After the final credit there’s a whole lot of nothing. Ignore it.

It’s one of the city’s best parades (particularly to those of us who never completely grew up), complete with marching bands, fancy floats, giant balloons, (semi)celebrities, and lots and lots of clowns. Way too many clowns, if you ask me. And am I the only one who didn’t know that the NYPD had a marching band? They rocked!

The parade is always a packed house, so you have to get there super early to snag good parade-watching real estate. We arrived at just before 7am; two hours before the starting time…and the parade started a mile uptown.

The parade is pretty lame on tv. They put too much focus on the endpoint at Macy’s. Watching a parade means watching a parade pass by. Like in the song. There’s no song called “When The Parade Gets To Al Roker And Everybody Lip-Synchs”.

To feel like you were really there, watch this standing up with ice cubes in your shorts. Enjoy.

November 21, 2005 | Filed under: Uncategorized

Click here or on the subway map to watch my Quick Time tale of travelling all across this great city of mine. Accidentally. Although I’m usually pretty good with navigating the subway system, construction and new lines has made getting around on the N,R,W & Q trains confusing. I’ve gone over the Manhattan Bridge by mistake before, and I’m not the only one: each time I’ve done it I’ve looked around the car and seen several people throw up their hands in frustration at noticing they are over water instead of underground.

Vera Cruz on Bedford Avenue is a nice place to stop and enjoy a margarita. Sno-Balls are a sticky treat that’s terrific anytime! You just don’t want to dress like one. Pork buns are one of my most favorite snacks. They are worth getting lost for.

Talking is a much faster way of getting a story out, hence this video. I was never a very good typist.

November 16, 2005 | Filed under: Uncategorized

This one’s for Lorika, who wanted to know.

************************************************************************************

I’m not certain what’s kept me from telling this tale, especially since I threatened to do so in another post way back in August, and again in September. I guess I’m just a little slow. I’m also a little long-winded.

The story starts with me and my not-particularly-romantic self. Allow me to rephrase that: it’s not that I’m unromatic, it’s more like I don’t subscribe to the typical American ideas of romance. I like a nice candlelit dinner now and again…wait. Actually, I like bright enough lighting to see both my companion and my food. Eating in the dark is weird. I like getting flowers…wait. I like it but the first thing I think of is that while the sentiment is sweet, the fact is that the flowers are temporary. They’re going to die. Soon. So giving flowers: what kind of statment is that? I’m not a stars-in-my-eyes, love at first sight kind of girl. I loathe Valentines Day. My six-year tradition on Valentines Day is to rent “Aliens”, “Terminator 2″ and “Hard Boiled” and enjoy piles of Sour Patch Kids while watching stuff explode. Alone. Seriously. I don’t want to come off as cynical, I’m not, I’m just…practical. I guess what I’m trying to say here is that I really hate dating. Always have. Hate. It.

As of mid-August 2005 I’d been single for exactly one year. My last boyfriend ended our crappy relationship after seven months of dating. August 2004 he was going on a monthlong trip abroad and I had asked what our status as a couple was, and what to expect upon his return. Not too unreasonable, and I was nice enough stupid enough (whatever) to wait until the day before his flight to ask (as if this was a proper question to ask after SEVEN MONTHS). He said he wasn’t sure, blahblahblah, and I said “well, then I guess we should end this right now” because why should I spend the rest of my summer waiting for a man who wasn’t sure he wanted to be with me? “Ooooh, no. No, no”, he says. “I think that’s premature. Let’s not break up”. So we don’t. Instead, he breaks up with me the week after he gets back. This is what I mean when I say our relationship was crappy. Bumped me off the dating scene for a year.

Working nights in OB/GYN doesn’t lead to a lot of dating possibilities. The few guys around are either 60-year-old maintainence men (all married…and old) or 25-year-old med students (all single…but young). I had met my last crappy boyfriend online, and decided to revisit my account to see if there were any new dudes of interest. There were a couple, and I wrote them little notes, and none wrote back. I hate that. It’s one thing to get rejected in person, but to get rejected without them having met you is worse. I spend the next month resigning myself to the fact that I’m undateable, and that all I really need is my Netflix and my dog. I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, really, I was just looking to get back into the dating swing. A few practice dates, to remind me of how much I hate dating. Then I get a note from a redhead in a nice sweater with a kind smile. Of all the online dating service emails I’ve recieved (a whopping 7 in two years–seriously, I may be undateable) this is the only one that really screamed “GO OUT WITH THIS MAN”. So I did.

On Monday we had a nice light dinner outdoors and then sat on a park bench in Union Square and talked for ages about everything and nothing. Best. Date. Ever. I had to put my feet in his lap because Union Square has a rat infestation of biblical proportions. Having a man offer to hold your feet so you don’t get rabies–now THAT’S romantic. I’m such a New Yorker. We got together Tuesday afternoon for more walking, eating and chatting, and Wednesday morning I met him for breakfast after my shift was over for a third date (that’s three dates in three days, if you weren’t paying attention) because we wanted to squeeze in as much contact time as possible. We marvelled at how we were either completely psycho, or had really stumbled into something fabulous. He was leaving for Boston that day by train and then off to New Orleans and wouldn’t be back in New York until October. Now, you know I have to be crazy about someone to meet them for breakfast after a 12-hour overnight shift when I know I look like crap and I’m all covered with hospital germs.

The first of two signs that he was meant to stay in New York: While sitting in the coffee shop that morning we learned of a huge Amtrak accident tying up trains to Boston. That kept him for a few hours more, not long enough for my taste. “Don’t you think that’s a sign?” I asked. We got a few laughs out of it. Two weeks later, the second sign: Katrina. It just could not be more obvious: the man was supposed to be in New York with me. Period. Case closed. Someone is trying to tell you something. I think we could have gotten the hint via a less destructive sign, but it’s not like I had any say in it. He had ignored the travel warnings and tried to fly into Louisiana only to get waylaid in Atlanta on August 27th. He was stuck there for a bit, then made his way back north into my apartment and…my heart. See? I can be romantic! Or sappy, anyway.

Yep. Three dates. Does three dates in three days even count as three dates? It was really more like one really long date with some naps in between. Three dates, some phone calls, a couple of emails and *poof*! We shack up. You can imagine how my mother felt about this. But it felt right–it was simply the right thing to do, and I didn’t think twice about inviting him–he was basically homeless. A natural disaster of that magnitude was more than strong enough to wipe out any and all dating propriety. And he behaved like a perfect gentleman. He even slept on the sofa for a night or two. Okay, it wasn’t two. Whatever.

For now he’s staying in a friend’s spare bedroom until we can find something bigger to house the two of us (his kind smile takes up quite a bit of space on it’s own) plus the dog and the Katrina-displaced kitty he brought back, and he still refers to himself as “The Luckiest Refugee”. Imagine something as destructive and vicious as a Category 5 hurricane being a positive force in this one tiny instance. It’s totally embarassing. But I just don’t know what would have happened if Brian hadn’t been compelled return to New York; perhaps we would have blossomed anyway, albeit on a more traditional dating timetable, but perhaps not. Well-meaning friends have informed me that disaster is not the most romantic foundation for a fledgeling relationship…

To those people I say: I can find romance in rats.

November 15, 2005 | Filed under: Uncategorized

Click on the picture to view the Quick Time flick or here, if you have a fear of clicking on pictures.

We are taking a 180° turn from the previous video post–this one is just plain silly. This was actually the first footage that I ever shot as well as the first thing that I edited. What can I tell you, my boyfriend was out of town and since there was no one was around to witness it except the dog, I let the kitchen fall completely apart and allowed the dishes to lapse in a big way. Pursuant to the terms of my rent stabilized lease, I cannot have a dishwasher, and really, don’t you sort of have to wash things before you put them in the dishwasher anyway? I just don’t get it. My point is, I’m big on cooking, but when every plate in the house is in the sink, you are left one clear choice and that choice is, of course, pizza. Romano’s has simply the best pizza ever. Really. Hot, cheap, crispy, crunchy, cheezy, oozy. Watching this video now, I see that my boyfriend is right. Even my hand overacts.

“Pizza, Pizza, Pizza”
Smelly Mike Kelly
“Kids Songs That Stink”
www.smellymikekelly.net
Buy It!

November 15, 2005 | Filed under: Uncategorized

Thanks, everyone, for the glitch-reporting and much appreciated feedback. The N.O. footage really knocked the wind out of me but I’m glad it finally got edited and posted–it seemed too important not to. I won’t be back in New Orleans ’till late January, but there will be plenty of follow-up then.

Thanks again. All the input really helps!