Daddyism #4

Rabbit Rabbit.

"It just seems silly to see two men on a date."

In light of my resolution to be nicer to Daddy, I'm posting one of my favorite Daddyisms.


Daddy and I are at Harry's Burritos. The gay couple next to us leaves.

Daddy: You know, it just seems so silly to see two men on a date.

Me: Really? Why?

Daddy: I just think that most men are just interested in dating with the hope that it will lead to sex. So it just seems like there's no point in going through the pretense when you're interested in men.

I love it because it shows his tolerance (despite maybe some ignorance). Also, it's rare that Daddy says the s-e-x word in front of me.

Blog Sitcom, Ep. 1: "With Mediocre Blogging Comes Mediocre Responsibility"

INT. ART MUSEUM - NIGHT

Jill is at the NYU Stern Alumni holiday party. She approaches her friend TATIANA, who is standing at the bar.

Jill

Hi Tatia-- Ooh cheese!

Jill greedily loads up her cocktail napkin.

Tatiana

Your last post was on December first.

Jill looks up, surprised. Through a cheese cube wedged in her teeth, she squeaks out...

Jill

Huh?

Tatiana

Your last post was on December first.

Jill stares blankly for a second as she chews, then finally swallows.

Jill

You read my blog?

Tatiana

I checked it twice today. I’m bored at work.

Jill

That’s so exciting! I have another reader!

Tatiana sternly stares at Jill.

Jill

                       (smile fades)

Sorry. I’m aware that I haven’t posted since December first. I’m trying, believe me, but I’m having trouble.

Tatiana holds Jill’s gaze, not letting her off the hook.

Jill

                       (nervously)

See, what happened was...

Another friend, OUI, joins them as Jill continues.

Jill

...I wanted to write a post about my top 5 Christmas sitcom episodes, but I can’t find the clips online because of copyright and stuff, you know?

Oui

Yeah, totally.

Tatiana turns her stern gaze on Oui.

Tatiana

You don’t have a blog.

Oui

                       (confused)

No, I don’t... sorry?

Jill

I swear, I spent 3 hours looking for clips.

Tatiana

                   Uh huh.

Jill

...and next I want to write about Daddy’s living room but I need a picture and...

Tatiana

Oh, leave your poor father alone.

Beat. Jill is temporarily speechless.

Jill

But... that’s what the blog is about.

Tatiana

Why don’t you write about Tom?

Jill

He doesn’t do anything wrong!

Tatiana raises her eyebrows skeptically.

Jill

Ok, ok. I’ll think of something to write about Tom.

Top 5 Reasons to Love The Old Train

As Alice pointed out, I haven't complained about the LIRR in a while. Well, ok, if the readers demand it...

Background: the LIRR got pretty nice new trains about 10 years ago but every once in a while, you get stuck with an old one, which feature such lovely amenities as....


1. Every seat held together with duct tape.

2. The stylish "wood" paneling.

3. The Seal of the State of New York wallpaper.

4. The short seat on the end. Enjoy your nap.

5. Not pictured: the lights and heat turning off every time there's a gap in the third rail (which is often).


I guess it makes me grateful for my regular train. How about you, lovers and friends, what's your public transportation like? I bet you're riding in style.

Alice Guest Post #2 - Sandy, Part I

Check out Alice's original guest post here, in case you forgot about her confusing living-at-home plight.


Sandy, Part I

Has anyone noticed that Jill’s recent posts have no mention of commuting? That’s because she completely abandoned me the last two weeks. While Jill was playing board games and rediscovering old phones I was sleeping on couches and shoving my way into packed trains.

At first I was ok with things. Worked closed, the power went out in the afternoon and I spent the evening reading by candles and drinking wine. Tuesday the lack of electric got a little old and as I drove around surveying the downed power lines I started realizing it would be a while till flicking on a light switch actually did anything. But we were lucky, trees only fell in the yard and my family was safe. 

Just as I was starting to understand the full damage of the storm work emails began flooding my inbox. I received a call from my boss briefly asking about how I was and then following up with questions regarding exhibition vinyl placement. Apparently Sotheby’s was open and this was the beginning of a bizarre juxtaposition that would last the week. See, while people had lost their homes and were without power and water the auction house was functioning as if nothing had happened; because on the Upper East Side nothing really had. I told my boss that I was fine, gave instructions on where to place the text, and assured him I’d figure out how to get in the following morning. I packed a suitcase, headed to a house with a generator and started calling friends who live uptown.

Ms. PC: She's staying in the city now while I commute alone, so I don't really want to hear her crap.

6 Things You Forgot About Using The Phone In The 90s

Apologies for not getting my posts out this week but I get a hurricane pass. Daddy got power back yesterday but now the Internet is out. Also went to the library today but their wifi was out too. So I'm typing this on my phone and hoping to upload it in a rare moment of 3G coverage.

So much to talk about. For example...
Crazy gas lines + traffic lights out = full-tilt jungle madness

[Imagine your own Mean Girls gif here. I really can't from my phone.]

Computer edit: try this one.

But my family was very fortunate that we didn't have flooding and none of our persons or property were lost. Daddy's power was out for 4 days and Mommy's has been out for 5 and counting, but we're making the most of it. We've been drinking wine and playing board games at Mommy's every night.

My point is that I have nothing to complain about. However, I am now going to educate you on a little something we call "landlines."

actual phone

We are lucky Mommy kept her old landline from before they got Fios, or we wouldn't even have service. Plus her old corded phone that she dug out of somewhere. And when you can't charge your cell (and then the cell towers go down) it's nice to have a landline. But here are some things you may have forgotten about old school landlines.

1. No caller ID. The phone rings and you have no idea if it's a loved one, a telemarketer, or your stalker. You just pick it up.

1a. Besides not knowing who it is, you also don't know who it's for. At one point we had up to 7 people hunkered down at Mommy's. So you just answer it like "hello?" and then the caller has to, like, say who they are and why they're calling.
Except sometimes they don't. Because they're not used to 90s phones either. So they're just like "Helllloooo having fun???" and you're like "um what?" and eventually figure out it's Aunt Kath's sister in Colorado.

2. Everyone shares one phone. So, if you want to call someone, but someone else is using the phone? You have to... wait.

3. The phone is connected to the wall. So, you can't really walk places. Even if everyone decides to start having a conversation and/or turn up the News Radio 88 right next to you.

4. If you hang up but don't really hang up right... you might hear "If you'd like to make a call, please hang up and try again..." and if you don't hear that you'll almost definitely hear some super loud beeping.

5. Sometimes, after dialing, you might hear... "All circuits are busy. Please try your call again later." or this weird thing called a busy signal. This has actually been happening kind of a lot.

6. There's no browser on your landline. With no internet, you dial 4-1-1 and tell a recording the name of the person or business whose number you need. You are charged extra for this service because they know you must be desperate.

Seriously not complaining. I actually think its funny to relive my childhood. Makes me grateful for the device on which I wrote this entire post. Oh, and now that I'm done, I found out the internet started working again. But since it's 2am, this is what you're getting.

Feel free to share your most cherished inconveniences of the 90s.

Jay Z Speaks

I never really gave an update on the amazing Jay Z concert I saw a couple weeks ago at the Barclay's Center. Here's the short version.

Tom and I took the drunk train in. Since the LIRR is always awesome, our train from Huntington was late to Jamaica so our transfer left without us. While waiting for the next train, I bought a Grolsch, which opened with the sound of a champagne cork popping and all the drunks around us cheered. Tom was drinking coffee like a nerd.

paper bag = class

The concert was, as I tweeted, a religious experience.

Then Tom and I luckily just made the 11:55 train. But when we got to Jamaica we realized that there wasn't a train to Huntington for over an hour so obviously I fell asleep while waiting for it.

Blah blah, another LIRR story. Really, I just wanted to pass on some advice from Jay Z. 

He referenced the media having reported his owning only a small percentage of the Nets and gave some words of wisdom ending with...

"Don't let anyone diminish your accomplishments."

Church! Then he launched into "99 Problems" which, in case you forgot, is awesome.

Got any wise words from a random source?

Becoming Bridge & Tunnel

Let me start by saying that the drunk train as immortalized by How I Met Your Mother's episode "The Drunk Train" is completely a thing.

HIMYM reps NYC (even if it's filmed in LA)

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I try not to go into the city on the weekends. Let's face it: at a certain point, even going into Manhattan from Brooklyn became a chore. But a couple times recently, I had the occasion to take the drunk train.

The most recent time was this past weekend. Rachel and I decided to be young and give in to excitedly jump on our friend Rae's invitation to go dancing.

Oh and since the LIRR is awesome, when we got to Huntington Station, we found out there were no trains from Huntington and had to take a shuttle to Hicksville. We rolled with it but the old man on the bus with us was pissed.

kind of like this... or something

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Usually I'd go for beer but, this time, my trank (train-drank) was 5 Hour Energy, which just barely lasted until we got home about 5 hours and 15 minutes later. I blame my work/commuting schedule for conditioning me to get tired early, therefore making me drink harmful caffeinated beverages when I should be drinking alcohol.

We met Rae at Culture Club. This is where I crossed the line into Bridge & Tunnel.

For those of you that aren't from here, Bridge & Tunnel (B&T) is a term we snobby New Yorkers use to refer to those overdressed drunks who are bussed (train'd) in on the weekends from such God forsaken places as New Jersey or (heaven forbid!) Long Island. B&T bars are the last place you want to be seen. And I'm pretty sure Culture Club is B&T Mecca.

Culture Club

So, why did I go? 
Was it the $25 cover? (No, I'm not joking.)
Was it the $13 drinks? (Includes a plastic souvenir cup.)
Was it the crowd? (A unique mix of bachelorette parties, middle-aged women, and a few creepy guys trying their odds with either of the above.)

The truth is: I secretly think Culture Club is fun. Bombshell.

sorry

But... ok?? 

Evidence:
1- The 80s room is akin to singing into your hairbrush with your girlfriends at a sleepover. 
2- The 90s-00s room lets me relive my high school and college dance party days. 
3- Plus, thanks to the high female-male ratio, I can mostly avoid the creeps. Except for those that came with my friends (*ahem* Rae).

That said, it bears repeating... $25 cover. Therefore, never again. Never. Um, maybe just except for a bachelorette party or something but that's it, I swear.

Quick Life Update + Beyonce

I apologize that my posts have been a little less frequent but I have good reasons, which are:

a) I'm moving;

b) I'm working on script writing; and

c) I left my bag on the LIRR that had a bunch of Tom heads in it (another story) and also my memory card reader so now I can't get all the awesome blog photos that I've been taking off my camera and there's only a Staples Express by my office and they sell cameras and memory cards but not memory card readers and I should have just ordered another one on Amazon but I was dumb enough to think the LIRR Lost & Found might function as intended and ugghhhh....

But I promise to all my loyal readers (I know you are out there even though you never leave comments or any trace of your existence but then when I talk to you in person you tell me you're reading so I'll take your word for it) that I will get out at least two posts a week. And this one doesn't count.

This has been a very train-of-thoughty announcement.

And now, a photo collage of Beyonce from Saturday's Jay Z show at the Barclay's Center...

Ms. PC ♥ Ms. KC

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MTV has an awesome photo gallery that I was afraid to steal from. More about the concert later.

On Commuting

Some thoughts on commuting...

Ok, so... I'm going to commute for a few months... possibly longer (eek!) and it's going to suck. But then I'm either going to move back into the city or, failing that, get a job on Long Island. I don't understand people for whom this is the life plan. Like, you're ok with never having a life or seeing your kids and shit?

Alice: Yeah, no. I can't. I'll just get a job curating the Hecksher Park Museum.

Aunt Kath had to commute into the city last week for training but she works on Long Island...

Aunt Kath: I don't understand it! Who are these people? Who would choose to do this everyday?
Cutie (realizing I'm right there): Yeah, it's for the young.
Aunt Kath: It's for the stupid!

Well said, Aunt Kath. Well said.

But my new blogfriend from blurtblog made me realize I should just be grateful for the option of alcohol during the commute.

Alice got fancy wine (and fancy wine glasses) for Monday's ride home

credit: Alice

So, explain it to me! What makes you ok with commuting 1.5+ hours indefinitely? Do you just love your job but can't move? Do you love where you live so much that you would never think of moving? Or, if you don't commute, feel free to rub it in my face.

I need answers, people.

First Week Commuting

A Journal.

Day 1: Did you know that it's dark out at 6am? 

yeah, I was really tired but that's a window 
(with a Christmas candle in it because my mom thinks they're for year-round)

"The first day isn't that bad. It's the second day that makes you want to die..." Alice warns.

Evening - get a ride home with Daddy. Would have been faster to take the train.

Day 2: Did you know it's cold and rainy at 6am? (sometimes)

Umbrella? Check. Coat and boots? Packed: whereabouts unknown.

Evening - resist the urge to buy beer on the platform.

Queens hotspot

Day 3: Did you know that it's even darker at 5:30am? 

Leave the house at 6:35 to be at work at 8:30.

Evening - train home smells like a urinal cake, which is preferable to alternatives.

Day 4: Snoozed 3 times.

Complete thought: Penn Station is bad for your mental and physical health.

Evening - take the 7 train the wrong way one stop. Sounds about right.

Day 5: Don't act like your'e doing me any favors, Friday.

Just can't get excited about Friday today; it was too hard-earned.

Evening - train cancelled. Do not resist the urge to buy a beer.

But first have to go to this ATM that will definitely not steal my identity.

watch the happy dancing guy :) nothing shady

You heard it here first: the cheapest beer in NYC is at the Hunters Point LIRR station.

I sprung for an imported

these are my people now

Upshot: I survived the week.

Guest Post: Alice of Huntington

My first week of commuting would have been infinitely more miserable without the guidance of my friend and seasoned commuter, Alice. More on that later...

Alice and I have come up with a mutually beneficial arrangement whereby I get a break once in a while and Alice gets to vent her frustration without the effort of starting her own blog.

If this helps my blog go viral (which she's assured me it will) you'll be hearing more from Alice...

couldn't find a non-drunk pic of us

so why not go all out? cir. 2007

In June 2011 I decided to pack up and leave the east coast for a job at Crystal Bridges Museum in Bentonville, Arkansas to follow my dream of working in the arts. It went pretty well for a while, but for a myriad of reasons in July of 2012 I loaded all my possessions into a pod and headed back to NY.

Everyone keeps saying “Wow you must be so happy to be back!” Well, yes. And also, no. See, moving across country is really expensive and in Arkansas I paid $750 for a three bedroom two bathroom duplex. I’m not sure I could rent a closet in the south Bronx for that amount. So in order to get my finances in order I’ve moved back home.

Well, not exactly “home.” I’m living with my ex-stepfather Brian (my mother’s second husband, she’s now married to someone else) in his recently deceased ex-wife’s (the woman he was married to before my mother) house in Dix Hills. Still with me? My commute is a little over two hours each way and Brian very nicely drops me off and picks me up from the Huntington train station – kind of like when I was 12 and would go to the mall.

Soo…this is going to be interesting. At least I now have Jill to commiserate and have drinks at Tracks with.

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Bye Brooklyn!

Marcy Ave train station

North Williamsburg ferry stop

Meet the Neighbors, Part I

Sunday at 9am, our super-efficient movers arrived. These guys were, like, serious. The one guy wrapped all our furniture in blankets and some special... movers' wrap?... before the two of them carried it out, and the whole thing took less than 1.5 hours.

Ok, so you're like... um, yeah? That's what movers do? Know-it-all. 

I only hired movers once before and they definitely didn't wrap my then Ikea furniture and they were way more expensive. Anyway, I was impressed. They're called Bee Moving, Inc. if you're interested.

Before I left, I ran into this older lady from down the hall that I sometimes see when I'm leaving for work in the morning.

Lady: You're moving? Getting out of this dump?

Me: Oh, yeah... we're moving in with my dad to save some money, so...

Lady: Good, you're young. Get out of this dump.

Me: Um, yeah... kind of...

I didn't know what to say to that. 

For the record, I've never called this building a dump but it is kind of crappy. But I'm young/sometimes-broke and living in the second-most expensive city in the US (and working in the first-most) and I've only ever lived in crappy apartments, so I'm used to it. I've just always been grateful that this building doesn't have mice or rats (like my Hoboken and Morningside Heights apartments, respectively).

And I didn't want to be all... yeah, the building in which you are continuing to live is a dump... but she seemed pretty determined that it was and I didn't see the point in arguing.

There's more to this moving story but to jump ahead a little, my dad is having a plumbing problem so we're camping out in Brooklyn for the rest of the week, then next week we're crashing at my mom's while she's away.

Everyone I've mentioned "plumbing problem" to has had a similar reaction, so I won't be offended if you made this face...

Pilot Post

This Sunday, some professional movers (see? I'm a grown up) are coming to take my husband's and my stuff from our beloved Brooklyn apartment ("beloved" is too strong, but it's ours) and move us to Huntington, Long Island.

In the words of Snooki (and probably baby Lorenzo) "wahhhh!"

After living not with my parents through college, business school, working... I'm moving back home. Why? To save money! (Surprise! Bet you thought I was doing it for fun!) Well actually, before I can save money, I have to pay off my credit card debt from the wedding and honeymoon. whoops.

My husband, Tom, and I are going to be staying with my dad because my mom's house is too small and my mother-in-law's house is too far from work. And, after all, moving in with her divorced dad in the house where her parents' marriage fell apart is the dream for most new wives.

In case you can't tell, I'm not super excited about this move. But it's happening.

Won't you join me in seeing how this drama unfolds?