farewell Hoboken

Sad to say, but in a only a little more than a week, Lauren and Morgan's parents will be leaving Hoboken to move to their sprawling newly built home in Warren County, NJ. I have mixed feelings about this move. On one hand, the headache of building a home will be behind them and we'll have an awesome place to visit on weekends. On the other, a home cooked meal with great wine and the people who have become family won't be be just a simple PATH ride away.

Oddly enough, the most bizarre cab experience of my life (and I think my three fellow passengers will agree) took place in Hoboken not too long ago. Lauren, Morgan, and another friend Shruti, and I piled into a cab for what we thought would be just another $5 quick ride to Maxwell Place. Our driver was clearly miffed that all four of us were going to the same place (because two stops means more money), and he repeatedly said so in Arabic to his wife over the phone as we began our doomed journey.

When Morgan let on that she could understand some of what he was saying, he began telling us how he thinks certain languages sound really bad when spoken, like Japanese, Chinese, and Indian (not all of which are actual languages). Shruti is Indian and decided it wasn't worth arguing, so she kept quiet.

We learned that he was from Egypt, and soon he was telling us that he auditioned for American Idol, and that yes, Randy called him 'dog' and Simon didn't like his performance. This of course led to a sample performance in the cab--he serendaded us to 'How Deep is Your Love' by the Beegees, and then promptly turned into oncoming traffic.

So there we were, parked in the opposite direction of traffic, when two cops pull up beside us. I understand he drove recklessly and could have caused a more serious problem, but these cops were major jerks. Our driver made the mistake of arguing and not giving his license and registration over immediately, and instead begged us for help. Feeling very awkward, we quickly paid him and exited the cab to walk the rest of the way.

Believe it or not, here is our Egyptian American Idol contestant of a cab driver.

If you can top that cab story, please do so in comments.

winner: the NJ police department
loser: Alaa Youakeem, our singing cabbie with poor driving skills

no chair, pube chair, fart chair, new chair

The seating situation in my apartment has become dire. It all started a little over a year ago when Lauren and I moved from Avenue B westward to Waverly Place. Our furniture situation on Avenue B wasn't much better than it is at present: the Ikea couch from Lauren's home in Maryland had caved in on itself numerous times, to the chagrin of many seated guests. We decided to bid adieu to it when we moved to the west side, with big dreams of a brand new futon sparkling in our minds.

However, things didn't go exactly as planned, but then again, they never really do.

The futon we had our hearts set on was out of stock, but we were desperate. We settled on the best they had, which turned out to be extremely uncomfortable, with no lower back support. That was our only seat other than my old red dish chair from college, which made unfortunate farting sounds every time someone moved while sitting in it. Fantastic.

Then, as luck would have it, Lauren and I found a great chair near the garbage area. It looked to be in excellent condition, though it had no seat cushion or cover. We dragged it up to our apartment, all the while discussing how we'd buy a cover for it and have a piece of foam cut to fit it. Yes, it was going to be great! Once placed in our living room, we saw the hair. Black, wiry, pubic. It henceforth became known as the pube chair. And worse yet, we never got around to covering it or getting a cushion cut for it. Weeks passed, and one day, while playing a particularly competitive game of Scrabble, Lauren leaned forward to make her move, and SNAP! The front left leg broke. A few days later, another friend took the 3 other legs off, and to this day it sits legless on the floor in the corner. Classy? We think so.

A few weeks ago, Lauren's mom took pity on us and offered to buy us a new chair. Finally, we thought, a comfortable piece of furniture! We browsed online, found the chair of our dreams, and ordered it. It was to be delivered to Kid O, and all went as planned until the delivery guy wheeled in the giant box. There I saw a problem: a large hole, out of which fell half of a splintered chair leg.

It has since become clear that we are not meant to have comfortable seating in our apartment. Only beds. Further proof: two nights ago, I sat on a folding kitchen chair and it all but bent and crumbled beneath me.

Currently, we're down to two cheap folding chairs, one legless pube chair, and one uncomfortable futon. During the time when we had ordered the new chair, I threw out the fart chair, and I'm pretty sure I saw one of the guys who sells books and records off of card tables on 6th Avenue sleeping in it the other day. So good for him.

Below is a photo from our New Year's party. A true testament to our lack of seating, these poor ladies had to sit...er lie, on the floor. This had more to do with the seating, and less to do with the 9 bottles of cheap champagne consumed.



winner: 6th Avenue book/record merchant
loser: our lower backs

financial planning & alcoholism

My plans to attend grad school this fall have prompted me to take a closer look at my budget. I've always considered myself to be a careful spender, but this scrutiny has definitely led me to rethink some decisions. And consider seeking professional help. Outside of rent, utilities, and transportation, my top five monthly expenses are:

1. Booze
2. Cheese: since the bulk of my grocery/eating out expenses are cheese or cheese-related, it's high on the list
3. Coffee: depending on the season (hot vs. iced), trips per day, and the barista, it really adds up
4. Sushi: Funayama's spicy lunch combo with miso soup is truly irresistible
5. Cookies: they've become a Pavlovian response to finishing dinner

Red flags? Sure there are. Let's get some perspective. My top five list could look like this:

1. Booze (okay, yes, that's the same)
2. Blow
3. Diapers (I could have a baby! That would be pretty unfortunate, especially considering the rest of this list)
4. Checks written to organizations that support child prostitution and terrorism
5. Monthly payments towards a Hummer that I've leased

See! The reality isn't so bad!

Anyway, the booze expenses were a tad disconcerting, but after a careful look at the AA website, I have concluded that I am not an alcoholic:

AA: Have you ever tried to stop drinking for a week, but only lasted a few days?
Me: No, why would I ever want to stop drinking for a week? That's just crazy talk!

AA: Do you tell yourself you can stop drinking any time you want to, even though you keep getting drunk when you don't mean to?
Me: Look, AA, I can't help having such a low tolerance for alcohol! Maybe if I wasn't such a lightweight I wouldn't get drunk all the time, ok!?

AA: Have you ever felt that your life would be better if you did not drink?
Me: Absolutely not! No way, nope. No! Seriously though, just back the eff off.

See, there's no problem here. Everything will be just fine! Who's thirsty?

winner: Funayama, Jack's Coffee, Lifethyme, Ray's Pizza, most bars in lower Manhattan
loser: my wallet

it's time for a ranking.

I find that working retail leaves me with a very strange and endlessly changing schedule. Sometimes I'm really productive with my midweek days off: a run, grocery shopping, laundry, and some cleaning can easily fill up a day. Other times, I only leave my apartment for a caffeine fix and spend the day lounging on my futon watching daytime television and eating cookies.

Sometimes it's an America's Next Top Model marathon from five years ago. Other days I'll watch a few hours of Home Improvement. I've watched too much Little People Big World. Ah, yes, daytime programming truly is a strange and beautiful thing.

Even more impressive than the shows in the middle of the day are the commercials. There are some seriously weird and semi-hazardous products out there. Below are my top five current favorites:

1. The Official Neckline Slimmer: a spring loaded contraption that when squeezed between your clavicle and chin, will firm and tighten your fat chicken neck. Comes with three springs of varying levels of resistance.

2. Latisse: the first and only FDA approved prescription treatment for inadequate or not enough lashes. I'm not sure what constitutes 'not enough' lashes, but apparently Brooke Shields is a sufferer who has finally found a solution to this devastating disease. She is the official spokesperson, and I hope she is ashamed of herself.


3. Bumpits: self gripping leave-in volumizing hair inserts. They come in four colors for 'perfect' color match. You'll also receive a complimentary mini bumpit, which gives you an unfortunately named 'bang bump.'


4. The PedEgg: A strange egg-shaped contraption that shaves callouses and dead skin from your feet. Drawback: you have to empty it of your heinous foot shavings after each use.

5. The Snuggie: a blanket with sleeves, allowing you to stay warm and use your arms at the same time. Say goodbye to the days of sitting uselessly under a blanket!



winner: anyone profiting from these products. seriously, kudos!
loser: Brooke Shields and anyone purchasing these products

auxiliary loser: Billy Mays (sorry, death automatically means you lose. RIP.)

let's talk about about water

Water is a mysterious and powerful substance. Its presence has the potential to flood, cause mudslides, to kill. Really, it can seriously fuck shit up. (Also, as pointed out by Lauren, it hydrates, makes things grow, and cures hangovers, but those uses are not the focus of this post).

A few weeks ago there was an article in the NYTimes that addressed the subject of rain rage. Apparently long periods of rain in cities can cause depression, impatience, and full on angry acts of rage.

This past week has been all about water in its many forms. First, let me say that I forgot my umbrella at a bar about 10 days ago. This umbrella was special. It had a long, wooden handle and it provided a wide area of coverage. I realized while walking home that I left it behind, but I didn't go back because we New Yorkers know that the 'umbrella circle of life' does in fact exist. That very umbrella was found where I work, and I know that if I wait, another will come my way. (Unfortunately this theory has since led to a few minor acts of accidental theft and a lot of soaked clothing, but that's another story.)

Sasha was visiting from Paris and I had a full weekend off from work during which I stayed in the city, a first in a very long time. And luckily, it wasn't forecast to rain! Lauren, Sash, and I made plans to visit Hoboken to swim at Lauren's parents' apartment. It has a rooftop pool with amazing views of Manhattan. That morning, we lazily got up, put on our bikinis, and hopped the PATH train across the Hudson. We found ourselves in the sort of heaven where washing machines and dryers exist in your apartment, sushi is ordered, wine is poured, and before you leave, Lauren's mom has ordered you a new chair for your apartment. It was glorious. We ate, we swam, we didn't cramp. Magic.

Of course, as soon as our happy trio arrived back in Manhattan, everything went to shit. As we exited the train, there was a crowd huddled in the entrance to the station, meaning only one thing: RAIN. And this was no ordinary rain. No, it was a torrential downpour. The kind where the streets are deserted, except for masses trapped under scaffolding and crowds gathered in storefronts staring skyward, praying for a break.

But we were still in our swimsuits! And home was just two blocks away. So we made a run for it. We were soaked and people stared, but there was something oddly freeing about running through the streets without a care. We felt like kids!

Then we got home and discovered we had no hot water...after we had not showered in the morning, swam in a pool, sat in a hot tub, and ran through the rain and puddles of the New York City streets. That was a whole lot of water that only one kind of water could erase: the water of a hot, soapy shower.

Our options were limited. We had plans for the evening and were in no shape to go anywhere publicly looking like we did. The best option was Lauren's sister who lives a short subway ride away. Unfortunately she was still in New Jersey, but she called her super and he agreed to let us into her apartment to shower. A little sketchy, but lucky for us. We hopped the train with towels in hand, and the three of us assembly-line style showered one after the other in record time. Then, wetheaded and wonderfully clean, we took the train back to Waverly Place.

No rain rage here, just minor rain annoyance. Ah, water. I'm hopeful for a hot and dry July. Except in my shower.

winner: the super of Morgan's building
losers: all tourists riding on double-decker tour buses wearing white ponchos, looking like cult members

auxiliary winner: Lauren's mom for buying us a new chair