Poppy Cedes

Yup, so, had a new subway adventure today. I was walking down the stairs into the station with a hot coffee in one hand and a lack of Physics in the other, and I stumbled twice then fell down the stairs. My left hand palm and my left forearm took the visible brunt of it, but I’m feeling unpleasantness in my middle finger and shooting pains at random in my wrist, elbow, and shoulder.

I was a bit stunned so I stayed sitting at the bottom of the first set of stairs. One person ran back up the bottom set of stairs to ask me if I was ok, another person was walking down the stairs I was on and asked me if I was ok. New Yorkers are kind at heart. I’m sure their internal dialog was less kind in some way, but who cares about that part, it was very nice of them to ask. I told them both I was fine, just stunned. It’s not my first time falling down stairs unexpectedly or being stunned from something I didn’t understand was happening to me until after I was on the ground, so it was nice to have that familiar feeling back.

The best part about the whole situation is that I watched hot coffee fly up into the air, then fall directly back down on the lid of the cup. As I got up to go I sucked the coffee off the top of the lid and went on my way down the next set of stairs, through the turnstile (which of course ate an extra fare from me to stick that nail in the bad day coffin), then carefully down the remaining staircase. Since I had nothing to clean up my bloody palm or scraped arm I just held it close to myself on the train then picked up alcohol swabs at Duane Reade when I got into the city. (Perhaps now is the time to tuck some of those swabs into my bag for future incidents. Yes, yes.)

And so I’m back to rookie status in the subway. :)

Life could be much worse. I just like telling you my stories.

Today is Choose Your Own Blogventure Day! A collaborative piece by many bloggers is spun from one starting fragment of a story. You choose which path to follow.

If you’ve arrived directly to my blog, start the story at NPW’s blog.

If you’re a CYOBer and you’ve arrived here from Aaron’s blog then you chose for Annelise to go downstairs. Here we go…

Annelise ran downstairs to the kitchen. She had never seen a real zombie before, and the idea of meeting one face to face made her absurdly giddy. As her foot hit the bottom step her mind processed the scene — a quorum of the undead, caked in blood, shuffling slowly in place around the marble-topped island — but her body could not stop quickly enough. Her size 6 Saucony running shoes skidded and screeched across the hardwood floors as she crashed into her neighbor, Mr. Angus V. Sumps, originally from Kansas City (the Kansas one, not that city slicker Missouri one), who had been living next door up until two weeks ago when his Diabetes finally licked him. Now he was hissing and moaning with arms outstretched around either side of her and his skin was less than politely peeling off his body.

Annelise let out a yelp and pushed herself off Mr. Sumps, running backwards as quickly as possible, almost knocking herself and her father, who had run after her, over onto the stairs. Dr. Ansel reached his arms delicately around his daughter and whispered into her ear, “don’t worry, they’re under my control.”

Annelise turned her head to look hesitantly optimistic into her father’s eyes then spun her body to hug him. “That’s… that’s… GREAT news, Dad! But, how?”

“The power of the talisman, my dear! Up for an adventure?”

Without skipping a beat, Annelise responded with a smile: “Always, Daddy!”

Dr. Ansel turned to the crowded kitchen, still shuffling in place, still moaning and hissing. “To the bus, my minions! “

Annelise giggled quietly as she watched the zombies passively push and shove each other out the front door to the ‘70s hippie bus her father kept for last minute field trips to curious destinations, and this time was no different. Next stop: Jenny’s Blue Plate Diner.

…

The ride to the diner had been pretty eventful. Dr. Ansel drove the bus, so Annelise had been forced to sit on the inside seat next to Mrs. Streeter, her elementary school cafeteria monitor in her living days, who kept slowly grabbing Annelise’s right arm and trying to chew on it. Also, in the back of the bus the “controlled” zombies were getting slightly out of control by not remaining in their seats. Each time the bus jerked to a stop the standing zombies fell over and piled on top of each other. Physics was no longer their friend, so the fallen undead would stay heaped in the pile, flailing around and groaning until the bus came to a full stop in two parking spots 10 feet from the diner’s front door.

Annelise hopped over Mrs. Streeter’s lap and ran off the bus into the diner. “Jenny, there’s 22 of us today. Think you can fit us all? Our lunch guests are probably gonna be a little messy. Sorry about that. Oh, and they’ll each want their own NY Strip Steak – raw and bloody.”

Jenny gave Annelise a wink as she wrote down the order. “No problem, kiddo. We get ‘messy and bloody’ all the time.”

Annelise ran back outside and helped her father escort their army of 20 to their seats. None of the other diners even blinked, they were too used to the Ansel family’s peculiar taste in mealtime companionship. Dr. Ansel stood outside his designated booth where Annelise, Mr. Sumps, Mrs. Streeter, and 18-year-old recently deceased football hero Tommy Jenkins were seated. He leaned over Annelise. “I need to use the men’s room, think you can handle them all while I’m gone?”

“Of course, Daddy.”

Dr. Ansel needed a minute to regroup, to make a plan for what he would do with all the zombies. He hadn’t thought he could actually raise his unfortunately circumstanced neighbors from their graves, or do anything to keep them civil once they were back to a semi-functional state, but the directions on the back of the talisman had been so crystal clear that it was like making Kraft mac & cheese – easy peasy! He went into the only stall of the bathroom and leaned over to give a courtesy flush of the last person’s business. Out of the corner of his eye he watched in horror as the talisman began to tumble out of his pocket and into the flushing water.

To see what happens when Dr. Ansel loses the talisman down the diner toilet go here.

To see what happens when Dr. Ansel catches the talisman go here.

If you were in Florida this weekend hanging out for the same reason I was you may have noticed I didn’t say goodbye.

I hate goodbyes.

They imply I’m never seeing you again, and that you AREN’T just a blog away, a tweet away, an email away, a photo away, a facebook status away, a txt message away from me.

And I just can’t have that, so HI AGAIN! :)

This is my weekend recap post. Each and every thing that happened this weekend is equally as important as the others, so I’ll be brief-ish about all of them so that I don’t cry all over while I write.

Thursday afternoon Dawg and I took a plane to Orlando. We rented a car and drove it to the Altamonte Springs Hilton, checked in, settled in our room, then had dinner with (you know who I mean if you were at the party) The Photographer. She goes by a couple names, but she visits here as Mew. We went to Five Guys for dinner with her, her puddin’, her photographer sidekick, and a man that is seriously Adam Avitable’s doppelgänger despite neither of them seeing that in the other. Apparently last year Dawg and I met ALL of these people at the party, but we met Mew and Baby J when we were sober, whereas we met Local 23 and Han Solo Ringmaster at last year’s party while we were in the vertical blackout stage. This year meeting them sober was an absolute treat and I now consider this pack of unruly nerds my very good friends even if they don’t consider me their very good friends back. I mean, c’mon, after sharing Five Guys together we BONDED over butterscotch Jello pudding pop ice cream at Coldstone Creamery!!!! And the irony of this gathering is that both Mew and I thought the other person didn’t want anyone else to show up to the event so we were keeping it secret from everyone, but turns out we were only doing that to appease the other, so next year we will have A HuGe MewPopstar GaTHerIng and it will be wonderful!!! At Five Guys Mew mentioned that Adam had invited us back to his place for a sneak peek at the party decor so we went to his home to check everything out. Poppy approved. I even made some modifications to the Booze List which made it on there, despite it only benefiting me and his lovely wife Amy, which I will mention in the Saturday section. Back at the hotel we had Last Call drinks at the bar with Mikey! Although the remodel of the hotel is beautiful it irks every single one of us that the bar CLOSES at 12am, so let’s fix that for next year. (Actually, don’t bother, the new hotel hot spot for next year will be somewhere else, it is rumored. ;) At the very last few minutes of bar talk we saw Bella and Rachel slink in from their night with Hilly and Dave2 so we hung out a bit before retiring to bed with our sippy cups of beer.

Friday was breakfast of champions from the hotel coffee shop. The woman behind the counter made me an 8-shot espresso but charged me $2 for a regular coffee instead of $16 like she should have, so I gave her a $2 tip then Dawg and I went to Downtown Disney to meet up with Hilly, Floating Princess, and Karen Sugarpants for lunch at RagLan Road, churros at the Italian Ice cart, soap gazing at Basin, and Lego watching at the Lego store. I love Snackie AND Lisa, but it was revealed at lunch that Ms. Sugarpants and I had exACTly the same costume idea for Avitaween, so durrrrrrrrrrr I bonded instantly with her and now she’s my lifelong border babe friend and I can say nothing wrong about that woman ever ever EVAR. Then the ladies departed and Dawg and I shopped at the World of Disney store where I purchased a $50+ brown hoodie that appropriately says GRUMPY on it. After Downtown we went to the hotel for a little lay down then we went secretly to Publix and back to Coldstone Creamery where we bought tw cakes and two packages of cupcakes then headed to Faiqa and Tariq’s (yo, it’s pronounced thar-ick, not streety hood TAR-EEEK) where we got to see Baby Y!!!! as well as (oh boy, no pictures of this, so let’s try to remember everyone) Britt, Jared, Emma, Devin, Robin, Rachel, Ren, Marci, Heather, Tyler, Hilly, Dave2, Lisa, Karen, Becky, Finn, Mister, Stephen and Marianne (non-blogging friends of Tariq), and… um, who’dileaveout?! at which we had delicious food prepared by Faiqa then had cake and ice cream cupcakes and a beautiful dessert prepared by Faiqa in celebration of SPARKY’S 39th BIRTHDAY, SURPRISE! Not that she was surprised, she kinda figured it out when Robin asked her what her favorite cake is, but I don’t care, I was still happy we got to celebrate. At the end of this event we all sat in a big circle and made silly jokes and it was a wonderful bonding experience. Then we went back to the hotel where we saw (oh boy, I hope I remember) Adam, Blondefabulous, Employee 3699 (whose name I know but not sure I’m allowed to share), Employee’s daughter (whose name I know but not sure I’m allowed to share), and Kim!!! And Mikey and LW wandered in after their Blue’s Traveler concert, then Brad and Turnbaby wandered in after their karaoke! Then a very deeeeerunk Sheila came in for a quick hi and goodbye. :) Dawg and I wandered off to our hotel room so we could have “YAY! POPPY IS DONE BLEEDING!” sex then we went to sleep.

Saturday morning we pooled together with people for breakfast at TooJays. These people, in fact: Mister, Finn, Ren, Kim, Rachel, and Robin. Had a great meat skillet breakfast with bacon and Coke (NOTE TO SELF: NO SULFUR WATER NEXT YEAR, bottled water ONLY) and hilarity did ensue. Directly after breakfast it was back to the hotel for me and Dawg for 30 seconds during which time I do believe I hung out with Ren and (um, yah, blanky) until Dawg came down from changing his clothes so we could go meet with Jenny and Andy at Mimi’s Cafe!!!!! Dawg and I let them do most of the talking because THEY are our NASA friends and we LOVE listening to them talk about NASA! Not sure why, but at this point in the trip I never, ever took another photo so there are no photos of me with Jenny or Andy or the swag bag she made for me. :( I has a sad. I don’t know what I was not-thinking. But the chicken caesar salad was lovely! :) And seeing them again was spectacularly awesome. I hope one of these years we’ll actually get to go toward NASA to see them instead of them always coming to us. After we saw them we headed to the Halloween store for Dawg’s party costume where I almost picked up some army boots but decided they were neither cute nor comfortable enough to substitute for my hot stiletto boots in my costume. We then took a trip to Walgreen’s to purchase the remainder of Dawg’s costume, some makeup for me, and some Charmin for Adam’s, since rumor is that he ran out of TP last year. We then went back to the hotel to mentally prepare ourselves…

…and then it was time to get ready and go to Hilly’s house so we could meet Jinkies and I could get my makeup applied by Hilly! Ended up not using any of what I bought except the nail polish I had put on ALL BY MYSELF LIKE A BIG GIRL before arriving. But Hilly covered up my chin zit perfectly and gave me the sultry, smoky, sexy, slutty, trashy eyes I’d been hoping for and that was a rap. Oh, btw, I would totally have stolen Jinkies but I think Hilly would have noticed. Also, thanks again to Hilly for laying out a towel on your bed so I could put my fishnets on “correctly” without getting cooch juice on your bed. That’s just rude to do. And also thank you to Ms. Sugarpants for having the most adorable Canadian version of my same costume so that when I went slutty and you went furry we barely looked like twins!

Ok, party time! We all headed to Adam’s and … then a party happened. A lot of people I love and admire were all in the same house together. We had alien-themed mixed drinks from PJ the Bartender and I even had my secret stash of Stella! beer because I had handwritten it onto the Booze List and Adam indulged me, Mew took lots of wonderful pictures of everyone (I think I was asked to be in 4 or 5 separate photo shoots… go, Poppy!), I ate a lot of amazing food, and had a lot of crazy conversations with people. This seems like the shortest part of the post (uh, dur, cuz it is) but I just feel like you need to experience Adam’s party for yourself. Start saving up now because you won’t regret going to an amazing party with amazing friends. Make sure to bring a snack for the late night munchies and a package of TP for when the house stash runs out. :)

At about 3am a bunch of us wandered off to Denny’s. Don’t ask me who, apparently 2 mixed drinks, 2 beers, and a tiny bit of disgusting appletini were enough to give me tunnel vision. I just know I cried at the very loud music overhead until they turned that shit down, the food in front of me was DELICIOUS, and I was in the corner so I didn’t really get to talk that much, but I still had a great time. Then we went back to the hotel where we had “POPPY IS DRUNK!” sex (it’s fantastic, by the way) and then it was time to SLEEP!

Sunday morning we woke up late and headed over to Adam’s to properly say goodbye to him and pick up a gift that Mew had left there for us then we headed to Cracker Barrel for a little lunch and to drop off the rental car then catch that plane back home. (I spent the entire plane ride watching women’s billiards and popping my head over the seat looking for Bella who was in the front of the plane, but never found her. Dawg spent it sleeping. :)

Today I didn’t work but… that was probably a very good thing because I slept until 11:30am and felt blue all day from not being with everyone anymore. I miss everybody already. Boooo to that, can’t wait to see you all again! :)

Here are the photos I did take during the trip. For photos of the actual party please visit the Avitaween pool.

Thank you again to Adam and all who helped organize that damn party. You definitely outdid yourselves!!!

I assure you, I’m STILL leaving a lot of this experience out, so many little quirky things happened, but we’ll leave it at this because this right here is almost longer than a 17m26s video. Enjoy.

Back in September when I officially moved to New York I got my New York State car insurance, as one is supposed to do in order to legally drive for extended periods of time here. I had called my leasing company asking for documentation that would allow me to register my car here. The woman on the phone said she knew what paperwork that was and that it would arrive to me within a few weeks. When a few weeks passed by the paperwork still hadn’t arrived, but I figured maybe they’d be sending the papers with my lease bill to save a stamp… yah, no. And so I called them again and reminded them that they were going to send me paperwork and then the very next day I got three calls for job interviews.

The paperwork does finally show up but a new job during a bad economy plus the holidays equals me not having time to go to the DMV during the week or on Saturdays when the DMV is open at one location nearby, dammit. After a small misunderstanding involving my leasing company’s claims department, my New York insurance agency, and my ex-husband which I won’t go into but GAAARRRARRRRRR I do more research and realize I need more paperwork from my leasing company than what they sent me originally . . . but I still don’t quite have time to deal with this.

Fast forward to April. I finally have time to deal with getting my lease paperwork and it arrives without much of a hitch, aside from that pesky PH people like to put in my first name (YO, it’s F, people, SPELL IT LIKE MY MAMA INTENDED) but I’m basking in the glow of having my paperwork in order… and then all of a sudden it’s May. I’m freaked out that my Vermont inspection is expiring but my insurance is in New York so I can’t just skip town and renew my inspection back in my home town, and I live on a street next to a police precinct that already has ticketed me for “parking too close to a fire hydrant” even though everyone else around here does it too and none of them get tickets. So Dawg calms me down and we put my car into the Parental Bat Cave until I can get to the DMV… then I realize I’m going to Washington DC on a PLANE for Memorial Day and need my photo ID but wouldn’t get the New York one in the mail in time to get on the plane, so the earliest I can go to the DMV is when I’m back from my trip.

I come home from DC with a bad cold and feel like shit so I decide I’ll rest up during the week and get alllllllllll my papers in order for a Saturday trip to the DMV. I even brag at work that I will go to the DMV Saturday to become legal. I will ironically be getting my NYS registration on the last day that my Vermont registration is legal! Dawg proves his Best Boyfriend in the Universe status by offering to get up early with me and drive me to the DMV and be my bodyguard when they ask me dumb questions. I go to sleep with bad DMV dreams in my head and wake up to realize that I cannot find my social security card. Hi, you cannot get a license in the state of New York without that piece of ORIGINAL documentation. So I tear apart my desk and start begging to a deity I don’t believe in to let me find the card and, dur, I find it, and Dawg and I are both all ready to go to the DMV! And he asks me to check the website for the time that the DMV opens…

Did you know that at this time of the year there are no DMVs in the entire state of New York open on Saturdays except the one in Erie, New York?

The fastest trip there is 6 hours, 33 minutes on I-80 W for 368 miles, assuming no traffic. Have you ever been around New York City when the weather is half-way nice? Yah. TRAFFIC.

Soooo, Dawg and I go to IHOP for breakfast instead and I decide that I will go to the DMV at Herald Square in Manhattan on my way into work Monday since the DMV opens at 8:30am but work doesn’t start until 9am.

(Get your laugh in here, it’s ok, I’ll wait.)

I proceed to get pretty shitty sleep on Saturday and Sunday night, dreams of the DMV chasing after me. I have the forethought to email my boss and tell-ask him that I will be in late Monday, “ok?” which he approves, even though I didn’t tell him why. I get up early on Monday and take the J to the E to the F and arrive at Herald Square at 8:05am, plenty of time before the DMV opens!, only to find that the line outside the building is already going around the corner. I take the express elevator up to the 8th floor and wait on line with all the crazy people who were hoping to hurry through the DMV line on the Monday when the Enhanced Driver License is now required to come back into the country from Canada, Mexico, and the Caribbean (unless you have a valid passport, which I don’t).

I get up to the counter and tell the man what I want to do – go from a non-NY license to a NY license and a non-NY registration to a NY registration – and he sends me on my way to fill out paperwork (there was one form I hadn’t filled out yet) and get on the next line to get my photo taken for my license. I AM SHAKING LIKE A LEAF WHILE I WAIT. And then it’s my turn and I canNOT stop shaking so I fumble my way to the counter and it’s the guy who gave me the paperwork at the information counter and he’s grumpy that I asked him if I give him both my license and my registration paperwork and that I didn’t have my forms of ID out already so while I’m handing them to him he’s not quite registering that my middle name is my middle name even though I said “my middle name is my maiden name” when I handed him the papers and he starts to tell me that I don’t have enough proof of my name change even though every fucking piece of paper says my name on it but some have my middle name spelled out so I get over my shaking fear and I start New York arguing with him about how if my middle name was Ann we wouldn’t be having this discussion and then he looks down at the forms and says, “oh… I didn’t understand” and the lightbulb turns on and we continue with my transaction and he gives me a ticket to get to the next line.

So I wait and wait and wait and finally it’s my turn and… first of all, even though the guy I saw at the other two windows was the same guy both times and KNEW what business I needed to transact, he gave me the wrong kind of ticket. Luckily, I ended up at the window of someone who had the skillset to process both license and registration. But I had roadblocks.

The first roadblock: I got my insurance in September, and the effective date on the card I had with me was January 2009, and in print directly underneath the effective date was a sentence proclaiming that the insurance card could not be used to register my vehicle 45 days past said effective date. Also, I hadn’t filled out a section of the registration I needed to fill out assuming Power of Attorney over my leasing company who authorized me to register the vehicle in New York. I had to run downstairs to Staples to have my insurance company fax me a copy of my insurance card with today’s date as the effective date then I ran upstairs and skipped the line because I had a green piece of paper that said “SKIP THE LINE AND GET AN H TICKET, BUT ONLY TODAY SO YOU BETTER COME BACK TODAY” (hence why I didn’t just throw my hands up and sob and leave the building after I was told I had failed to fill out my paperwork correctly) so I got my H ticket and sat down and emailed my boss that there was a snag at the DMV (heh, had to admit where I was finally) and that I’d be later than I had planned, then waited for my number to be called and then I got to the window and it was the same guy again so I gave him the insurance card but then I had forgotten to fill out the section he’d told me to on the registration and then he realized that I had filled out a form to do with vehicle sales tax completely incorrectly and that I needed my lessor’s “certificate of authority… or tax ID if they don’t have that, and then get another H ticket.”

BACK out into the hallway with me. I call my lease company who hangs up on me during the transfer to the title department so I call again and get over to the title department and they have no flipping idea what a certificate of authority even is so they give me their federal tax ID and I run back in and cut the line again to get another H ticket then I stand at the counter and refill a new state tax form correctly with the federal tax ID included as well as the section of the registration I missed before and my number is called and it’s a different guy this time. So I hand him all my paperwork and forms of ID and just stand there quietly, making no movement, hoping that if I am silent and still that somehow magically everything will come together and I will actually get to LEAVE THE DMV with the items I needed. And then it happened. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a key, placed the key into the lock of a cabinet door, and pulled out LICENSE PLATES FOR MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! And printed A REGISTRATION FOR MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! And a stamped 10-days-to-get-your-inspection-ticket for MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! And I screamed, “YES, YES!!!!!!!” in my head as the man behind the counter slowly finished filling out all the lines he had to in order to make the transaction complete and legitimate. I then thanked him profusely, swooped up all my forms and IDs into my arms, and bolted to the counter where I slowly put all my papers away so as not to have a DC incident where I lose yet another credit card or, worse, my original birth certificate!!!!, and then walk out the door to grab a pretzel and a Coke and call Dawg to tell him that at as of 11:21am on June 1, 2009 I am officially legal in the state of New York. WOOOOHOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

And then I made it all the way to the station I get off at almost every weekday but went south instead of north, because I have to have SOMETHING to humble me back into my place after such an amazing experience, right? Yah. Thanks. :p

Before we went to Santa Fe a low carb cookbook arrived in the mail, and Dawg cheerily told me that he’d be eating low-carb when we got back from our trip! I thought that was a wonderful idea at the time, although carbs are like my BFF so I had no idea how to do any of that.

Time passed, and we fast forward to Saturday, May 2. It’s the end of Dawg’s week-long vacation post-Santa Fe trip and it’s time to start preparing for the low carb diet that starts Monday, May 4. While he sleeps in I painstakingly look through the low carb cookbook for common foods that fit this new diet lifestyle we will partake in, as well as tweet back and forth with several people about which foods are good for this type of diet ahem, LIFESTYLE :) . In the end I have a food shopping list 12 miles long that I think is suitable.

Something to know ahead of the shopping part of the story: I’m trying my very hardest to get through this weekend as pleasantly as possible even though my monthly affliction of blood and moodiness is upon me. A very hard event to get through with style and grace, and you’d think after 23 years I’d have that one mastered, but … not so much. Saturday was horrible. I just felt depression in my mouth and was miserable the entire day. I just didn’t want to speak to the world. When Dawg asked me if I wanted to go food shopping after we had done many other things I told him, in my most honest words, that if we did go food shopping I would (oh, how did I phrase it?) not have a good time at all whatsoever and would take the rest of the world down with me. So, we went home!

Along comes Sunday. We slept in, ate lunch, then went food shopping! I pulled out my grandest of lists which included many low-carb-friendly vegetables, cheeses, meats, and a few common ingredients for many of the recipes in the cookbook. We started out in the vegetable section, where Dawg has NO interest. I knew that, so I didn’t think too much of his lack of enthusiasm. Then we headed out of the produce section and suddenly we saw frozen burgers — turkey and beef. Those were not on the list and I was starting to get this feeling that things were going to go a little not-the-way-I-had-planned so I sweetly and optimistically told Dawg to pick whatever meats he knew were going to work for him. He started perusing the meat and since I had no input past what I had written down on a list I told Dawg *point point* “I’m going down that aisle” and walked away. I walked down the entire length of the aisle so that I could start walking toward Dawg when he arrived in the aisle. I picked up several jars along the way, as many as I could carry… and then I almost dropped all the jars in my hand, TWICE. But I kept it together and kept on walking back toward him!, except… um, he never was walking toward me, and I didn’t have my cell phone on me.

I finally juggled all my items to the end of the aisle and found him parked at the end of the next aisle. I clumsily dropped my items into the cart and just … paused for a second, then said “I know it’s easier for you to park at the end of an aisle, but I need the cart to be in the aisle with me so that I can pick up all the items from the list.” His response: *smile “I got all the meat!” My PMS thoughts in my mind, which I did NOT utter aloud: “What, do you want a fucking COOKIE or something? Bitch, GET THE CART OVER TO WHERE I AM.”

We continued on our way and then it fucking happened again. I’m trying to pick out cheese and he’s staring at me from across the aisle, between us which is a dolly packed with dairy products and two women with carts, chatting. There was no easy way for me to put items into the cart. I got royally pissed by this and just lost it. “I’m ALL DONE.” I dropped the list in the cart and walked away. I went and got my items from the hygiene aisles and tossed some guy out of our cart’s way so I could throw those products forcefully into the cart. I then screamed over and over in my head: WHAT THE HELL IS THE POINT OF HAVING A WINGMAN WHO’S NOT ANYWHERE NEAR YOU?! I might as well bring my own fucking cart around! I HAD TAKEN THE TIME TO MAKE A BEAUTIFUL LIST THAT WASN’T BEING FOLLOWED *AND* I WAS THE ONE PICKING UP ALL THE ITEMS AND LUGGING THEM AROUND THE STORE WITHOUT THE CART. WTF1!!@1@!`!113#11111@21


I shut down, folded my arms, and refused to participate in the rest of this process.


And forgot to buy my Midol. *rolling eyes*


Morals of the story: There are always at least two sides to one, and Midol should be located in aisle 1. Oh, yup, and: See the tag. ;)

I have a really funny story about me walking around work like a zombie in my black pants, black tee, grey 3/4 sleeve shirt, and my black sneakers because my left foot hurt until the IT director asked me what was wrong and I told him I was doing my Shaun of the Dead impression so he gave me an ace bandage and I swapped over to my boots, but I’m too tired to tell it.

That was a good joke, wasn’t it?

Saturday was DAVE YORK 2!!!!!!!!!!!! So, here’s how the day went from my perspective: I woke up at 8:30am, didn’t really take to it too kindly because my knees hurt so much from kneeling on concrete the day before, ate some bacon, went back to bed until 2pm, showered, got ready, then left with Dawg to the train station. We took the J to the E then rode to 42nd Street where we got Starbucks and took A LOT of photos.

Then it was Dave York 2 time at the Hard Rock Cafe in Times Square! In attendance from L to R around the Hard Rock table: Poppy, Dawg, B E Earl, ETinNY (he has no blog :( but here’s a photo!), Robin, Sparky, Whitenoise, Dave2, and Cissa!

After birthday extravaganza we headed to the East Side (lower) for drinks. At Union Square we were subjected to Maroon 5 top 40ness:

How’d they get the piano down there?

We had drinks at Jack’s but they kept fucking up everything so that we would leave. We took the hint rather than trying to tell them how to do their jobs and left to Coffee Shop Bar where I decided I needed a chorizo quesadilla for my fourth beer of the night, a Newcastle. After the Coffee Shop Bar we all went our separate ways, hugging goodbye, then everyone else jumped on a Q train while Dawg and I took the N to the E to the J home.

I have had no time to edit all the photos included in the links above because Sunday was WRESTLEMANIA. So, I’ll get around to it when I get time, but enjoy them sideways for now.

PS – HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my Gramma!

A few weeks ago Dawg forwarded me information from HARO requesting that people who had recently moved to New York City be in a group photo for a prominent publication. Some demographic info and the reason why I moved here were all that were asked for, so I answered it and thought nothing more of it. And then the emails started flying… and I got the invite to be in a group photo on the cover of New York Magazine. The shoot was originally planned for “Friday, 4/3 or Sunday, 4/5″. And then it was Friday at an unknown time, unknown place. And then it was Friday at 1pm at an unknown place. I asked work for Friday afternoon off. And then it was 5pm on Friday at Pier 59 Studios. But because of the number of changes I decided to keep my afternoon off and that way if the time changed again I could show up quickly, but since I had the afternoon off all to myself I made plans with myself that could be ditched at a moment’s notice if necessary.

You know how I talk about the subway a lot? Well, I decided that I would go to the MTA Transit Museum in Brooklyn (yah, I didn’t know it was in Brooklyn either until I read the subway map while sitting on the downtown R train) and look at the history of the subway. I’m a very visual person, so reading the history wasn’t what I focused on. I instead focused on the trains’ evolution, how the trains used to be a bit more of a personal and cozy experience, but how over time they have become more durable and accomodating to more life circumstances, sacrificing the comfort they once provided. And then a bunch of 4-year-old kids wearing subway shirts all ran down the stairs screaming and I laughed my head off at them and went back upstairs to take a few photos at which point my camera battery conveniently died. It was so tragic.

I left the museum, back to street level only to discover that there was a torrential downpour in Brooklyn. I scurried the few blocks back to the Court Street station and got back on the R to Manhattan. I hadn’t eaten lunch yet so I decided I would treat myself to lunch at Times Square. When I arrived I looked around for The Place that I wanted to eat at, although I had no idea what place that would be, I just knew I’d find a place that tickled my fancy, and then I saw it: The Brooklyn Diner. I ate there once before with Dawg the weekend of Brittcon. In case no one ever noticed, I love New York City diners, especially the high-end diners. This diner has $17 bacon cheeseburgers on its menu. And guess what I ordered? Bacon cheeseburger deluxe (pickle, onion ringlets, and fries included) with a side of mayonnaise. Oh, and a fountain soda Coke. While I waited for my food to arrive I checked my email to make sure the photo shoot time hadn’t changed again. I kept feeling in my heart like it was going to be changed to 3:00pm, so I was really anxious to see a new email from the New York Magazine photo shoot organizers when I was sitting down to eat at 2:45pm. But the email was just confirming the same details as before, as well as letting us know which stage at the pier to report to. So, I took my time eating my burger and leaving silly comments on a few blogs, then enjoyed a cup of coffee while I zoned out.

When I was done with my meal it was almost 4pm so I ducked into Duane Reade and bought the cutest little brush for my frizzed out hair then hailed a cab to take me to the Chelsea Piers. Of course I was there at 4:30pm so I sat at the cafe inside Pier 59 and drank a Coke over ice. Then it was time for the shoot. We all got in lines by first name, gave our name, got a nametag, filled out a questionnaire, then got our individual photos taken. At his point it was back to waiting and waiting and waiting until the photographer was ready for the shoot. I went back to the cafe while we waited and called Dawg to tell him I was bored then texted my mom that I was at the shoot and wished she was there with me.

At 6:45pm we were finally called into the studio for the group photo. We were arranged in a pie wedge-ish fashion and shown an inspiration photo — as in, a photo of people we were to emulate. I am not sure I can tell you the rest of the details of this part because I did sign some form and didn’t actually read it, but let’s just say that hilarity ensued and I personally was moved around the room so I’m not sure where to look for me in the published photo. Oh, and my knees hurt from kneeling. And I taught two girls how to handle a pompous, inconsiderate, money-grubbing asshole, but I’m not confident they were ready to absorb the knowledge quite yet. And I laughed my head off at a girl who had a very similar Harlem experience to my own from 1998. And I managed to laugh and smile and enjoy myself and enjoy my company without actually learning anybody else’s name or introducing myself or becoming fast friends because…

That’s me. I am quirky. And this city lets me be without making me feel bad about who I am as a person. And I hope you see a small speck of me on the cover of that magazine when it comes out. I’ll definitely tell you when to look for it if I get the heads up, but if there’s an issue about New York Newbies, that’d be the one. But for me this was more about reinforcing my love from a distance for the way this city works, and the way I effortlessly float into and out of aspects of city life but still maintain my quiet and reserved and peacefully crazy sense of self.

And then I went against Dawg’s suggestion of taking a train downtown to get to the J because that way makes all local stops so I walked an extra block or two up to 23 St (8 Ave) and I got a seat on the E train uptown and I put my earbuds in my ears and closed my eyes and rocked out all the way home.

The end.

And that’ll be 50 cents an autograph, thankyouverymuch.

PS – I am uploading museum photos but Faiqa posted this really sweet post about me so I’ve published my post since it seemed to capture the essence of her words about me. Faiqa’s approval makes me happy in my heart.

UPDATE: Now with photos! Brooklyn | Transit Museum. Aaaaand, as I mentioned, the camera battery died after that. BUT I am sure someday everyone with cameras at the event will post their photos.

Mom, cover your eyes. When I was eight years old I had a best friend named Blake. Our parents decided we were not so great influences on each other and kept us apart for a while. Probably a good thing, because Blake and her younger sister had taught me how to steal from the local grocery store and the one time I stole anything was on my very own without them, just to see if I could do it. I stole a package of markers. The mechanics and planning of it all make me laugh every time I think back to that day, and probably helped shape me into the person I am today. When I got the markers home I was pretty excited to use them, but the more that I used them the guiltier I felt about the method in which I had obtained said markers, so I eventually threw them all into my Strawberry Shortcake garbage can. And then my mom came into my room and yelled at me for throwing away perfectly good markers, so I pulled them out of the trash and went back to drawing with them. (Yep, that’s really one of the markers. The last one left. In my favorite color, green.)

A number of people did this meme, probably including myself although I have no memory so it’s New To Me!, but I finally stole it from my mom, hence the title and backstory to this post.

A – Age: 34

B – Bed size: Queen

C – Chore You Hate: I’m gonna go for cleaning the toilet, Bob.

D – Dad’s Name: I have two dads. Bio: John, Step: Marvin

E – Essential Start Your Day Item: More sleep

F – Favorite Actor: This changes any given moment. At this moment I will go with my old standby: Bill Murray.

G – Gold or Silver: Silver

H – Height: 5′4″

I – Instrument (s) you play: I sing to dance music and 80s music, so that’d be the vocal chords

J – Job Title: Geek

K – Kid(s): I think this question is up to interpretation. Is it how many you have or how many you want? Hmm. :)

L – Like: I have a fascination with perspective right now, so I’ll say I like perspective.

M – Mom’s Name: Leslie

N – Nickname: Poppy

O – Overnight Hospital Stay Other Than Birth: None

P – Pet Peeve: Lying. And cheating. And lying about cheating. More than a pet peeve, but it’s what irks me on a consistent basis.

Q – Quote that you like: On my 8th grade family crest I chose “what goes around comes around.” Man, I was already in for a life of telling people off.

R – Righty or Lefty: To the LEFT.

S – Siblings: 1 brother, 1 complication sister, 1 stepbrother, 3 stepsisters, a few other unrelated sisters

T – Time You Wake Up: On weekdays it’s between 5:45am and 7:00am, depending on how easy it is for me to guilt myself out of the bed.

U – Useful tool: My body. And, occasionally, my mind.

V – Vegetable that you dislike: Gak. Too long a list, let’s try for the ones I do like.

W – Ways you run late: I don’t enjoy knowing what time it is.

X – X-rays You’ve Had: Teeth, back, ankle

Y – Yummy Foods You Make:Everything I make is yummy. I am awesome in the kitchen, among other areas of my home.

Z – Zodiac: Leo. (rawr)

Also, I’d like you to see some pictures and a video from my weekend, ok?

Here’s Coney Island/Nathan’s.

Here’s New Jersey.

Here’s Ripley drinking my water:

And I thought my day at work was interesting enough, not that I can talk about it at all, but when I got to the E train platform at 5:15pm I thought I had gotten lucky that I caught the train sitting idly with its doors open, fully loaded with passengers. I hopped into the nearest car at the bottom of the stairs and grabbed a pole.

And then the train sat with its doors open for another five minutes.

The doors closed. We slowly, painfully pulled away from the platform, taking a good two minutes to clear it completely so that we were submerged in the tunnel, no turning back.

Then: Dead, full stop.

The conductor got on the com: “We’re being held by the next station, we’ll be moving momentarily.”

He repeated that 10 more times in 20 minutes.

We started crawling forward.

Then 5 more repeats of the “we’re being held” message. The sixth repeat contained more information! We were informed by our omniscient conductor that we would be performing an emergency evacuation of the train. Why? Well, that wasn’t our concern, apparently. We were told that we would be instructed how to perform the evacuation when we reached the station.

We continued to crawl to the Fifth Avenue station. When we were almost to the platform we were instructed to begin moving toward the front of the train for that emergency evacuation and the train turned off. The passengers near the front of the car opened the doors between the trains… but no one was moving quite yet so we stayed put.

And then? The conductor announced: “Please stay in your cars, do not move between cars, we will be moving shortly.”

Yes, for the next 5 minutes the conductor kept alternating between “we’re evacuating” and “we’re about to start the train back up.” We continued our ascent to the front of the train when the conductor told us to, but finally he got on the intercom and made a flustered noise and gave up on instructing us. We all stopped.

“Ok, we’re evacuating, please exit the front of the train.” We moved slowly, but steadily and calmly forward 3 cars. And then? “Stand clear of the doors, this is a Queens bound E train.” All of us played musical chairs and *WHUMP* sat in the nearest seat. I scored a seat next to a very nice lady who had been travelling since 4:30pm and it was already after 6pm now. (To give you a little perspective, we’d moved one whole stop in 45 minutes. By that time I’m normally about to switch over to the J train and finish my train ride.)

The train sped forward then stopped when its full length was lining the length of the Fifth Avenue station platform so that all the people who had emergency evacuated off the front of the train could (yep) board the back of the train if they had stuck around to see that they could get on the train. We were assured that it was ok to get back on the train, that our train no longer needed to be emptied so that it could push the stalled train that had been stuck between Fifth Avenue and Lexington Ave/53 St. The train paused at the station for a good three minutes.

Then the doors closed again, the conductor announced quite elatedly “this is a Queens bound E train!!!” and we began crawling forward. I thought to myself that we had been lied to, that we weren’t in the clear as the conductor had insisted, that we’d be stuck on that damn train all night, but eventually we began moving at full speed again.

Occasionally throughout the trip we would slow down to a crawl or be held at a station and doubts would creep back into my mind that the train would finish what it started but an entire hour later than normal I arrived home, completely unscathed and very happy that the E train finally got me to my destination.

I think this subway experience will be hard to top, and honestly I’d rather never have it be topped, thanks.