little bits of minor awesome

Met the big boss at Tribeca, the one who isn't Bob. Her assistants were out and I was working out of their office today. She asked my name and when she found it was hebrew we spoke briefly about both our abilities to understand the language better than we speak. She tried saying "I can understand but I can't speak" in Hebrew, but as it is a gender specific language even though she got the words right generally speaking, she conjugated them completely incorrectly. I was too scared to correct her so I let it slide, and smiled at her attempt. But it was a good first impression over all I guess.

Also, I'm going to be getting an industry pass to the Tribeca Film Festival this year, which theoretically means I can get into any event or screening. I say in theory because I'm not really supposed to use it, and as such am still a bit unclear as to why I'm even getting one. Though I'm not complaining at all. It's my first real pass for myself. In the past all the industry passes I got were in someone else's name (ie. my various bosses) that'd I'd borrow when they wanted me to watch a film they couldn't make and write up a report for them about said film. It's gonna be neat having one with my name on it with a picture that says industry. Almost like I'm actually doing what I want for a living, though not quite.

Starting another gig at a smaller production office in the city near penn station. It's just one day a week, but hopefully it will open doors to a job somewhere else, and I need to remember to talk to people at tribeca to become a reader for them official like, and get paid for it, as was suggested to me by the vp of development there. It's not a lot of money, but every little bit helps. Was going to talk to them today but got busy and didn't get around to it. Either next week or after the festival when everything calms down a bit.

I think that's all the little bits of minor awesome I have going on right now. Nothing that special, or even really that awesome, but I have to take what I can get. Beggar's can't be choosers you know.

No title

I was going to start posting about my trip to Hong Kong, which was pretty amazing, but I can't get my camera to connect to my computer, thus I can't post any pictures. Once I manage to figure out the problem, I shall post all about my trip, pictures and all (even if you aren't interested in seeing them).

But as of right now I've lost a interest in all this. A friend of mine, a few weeks shy of 22, passed away in his sleep last night. His mom walked in and thought he was still asleep, but when she tried to wake him, she realized he had passed on. We don't know the cause of death, though heart disease does run in his family. He was a really great person, a bit loud, and sometimes annoying, but had a great big heart, and was one of the funniest guys I've known. He had a problem with drugs and alcohol in the past, but had cleaned up his act and putting his life back together. He was sober for at least 6 months prior to today, and we were all very proud of him. He was finishing up a degree at Queens college and wanted to go to law school after he graduated, and some day run for office. He was a big goofy oaf of a man, and he wanted to do good in the world.

I just saw him yesterday, we worked together at Starbucks. He seemed fine, healthy, and at the top of his game. For lack of a better way of saying this, but it's just sad. I can't get used to writing all this in the past tense. It's all too depressing.

I have a wedding to go to this weekend, I'm the best man. I'm all very hectic emotionally right now, and need time to settle (He would have made fun of me for being all girly with emotions).

So I might not post for a while. Not that I post regularly anyway, but right now it just isn't on my mind.

Take care.

The End is Nigh

Recently all of my dreams seem to have something to do with an apocalypse of some sort. Either a world wide end, or a more personal apocalypse which only affects my family and friends.

Not a pleasant way to spend what should be more restful sleep. I don't usually remember my dreams, but the ones as of late have been quite vivid.

I don't know. It's just putting me off and keeping me on edge during my waking hours. Everything just feels different.

Nastia is so nice (worst - and most likely most over used - pun ever!)

Worked a fifteen hour shift today. Got home at 11 in the PM. Stayed up late to watch the Olympics and then the most recent episode of Madmen (DVRed it - though am not sure if DVRed is the way to Verbificate DVR). Now for some reason I'm blogging in bed (hooray lap top computers) about how tired I am and how much I should go to sleep.

An open letter to all the Starbucks customers who piss me off is definitely forthcoming. Unless something spectacular happens in my life that I must write about it will be the next post.

And sucks for Nastia Luikin, who tied for gold, only to get silver. The system is messed up. That shouldn't stand (and if people can share gold in other sports, why not gymnastics? or am I wrong about the other sports?). Boo to the judges - I'm looking at you australia, but hooray for Nastia for being awesome.

I didn't want to do it again but...

So I really was going to start my week of lists today. Lists of a somewhat personal nature getting a bit more into my head and life than just random lists of links that I find to be interesting.

Unfortunately the machine that sells me my LIRR tickets (that's Long Island Railroad for those of you who don't know) rejected my bank card, and I know I should have at least two grand in my checking account (alright, maybe only fifteen hundred, but still). Thus I've been freaking out about it all day and can't think straight. I'm stuck at work and there isn't a bank location near where I am currently, so I have to wait until I go home to try and figure it out (if I've been robbed or identity thefted, that would truly suck, you'd think that someone would only want to do that to people who actually have money and good credit, not guys like me).

Instead I give you what I think is absolutely fabulous (no, not the tv show). Someone has posted a bunch of old Garfield comic strips, but have removed Garfield and odie, leaving only Jon behind. The strips are actually far more poignant, touching, and funny in this garfieldless version. Talk about post-structrualist post-modernism. Anyway, you should check it out because it's good and funny, and I'm going to sit at this desk and pretend that I'm not freaking out, when in fact I'm so jittery I think my eyes my pop out of my head.

Garfield minus garfield

Why only wenseday?

Why have I only been posting on Wenesdays? Well, that's an extremely boring question. Don't you have anything better to do with your time than ask something that absolutely no one either cares about, or has even noticed? If you are reading this blog, then I assume that answer to the latter n is a resounding no. Thus, I shall answer the former.

The only time I've really been at the computer with the time or inclination to write, ie haven't been working at starbucks since 5:30 in the AM, or am about to go into Starbucks to work until 11:00 in the PM, is when I am at Tribeca Productions on Wensedays and often, especially during the writer's strike, have nothing else to do. Now that the writer's strike is over, I still have little to do, hence my posting only on Wenesdays.

Some news:
I added a link to my youngest brother's new blog That Green Gentleman in my link section.

I'm getting sick, but trying desperately not to. I didn't sleep at all on Saturday night. We went out for my brother's bachelor party (not the one with the blog) and I didn't get back from Manhattan until four in the am. As I was scheduled to work at six thrity I figured sleep would just make me more tired and I stayed awake and worked my eight hour shift. I got a lot of sleep afterwards, but everytime I wear myself down like that I get sick. And always the same way too. Sore throat that turns into a runny nose and congestion headache, and is usually gone in about a weeks time. So I figure I have a few more days of drinking copious amounts of orange juice, eating lots of soup, and trying my best to stay out of the cold and rain (doens't help that I was out shoveling snow three times yesterday, and that it is horrid and cold and rainy today), drinking tea, and sleeping.

As always, good night, and good luck.

Still so sleepy

This was going to be my week of lists, where everyday was a different fun list (no not links, just random Ami thoughts) but I've been too tired to get anything together. Still working more hours than I would like, and sleeping too little. I've had a bit of fun, went out for dim sum with two freinds yesterday before work, so that was nice.

I started the ball rolling in planning a bachelor's party for my brother who is to be wed in March, but completely fell off the ball due to work, exhustion, and a bit of laziness. Lucky one of Hillel's freinds picked up the ball and there is a tentitive plan for the weekend. So I got lucky, and feel a little bad that I didn't acutally plan anything myself, just threw it out for someone else to plan.

To be honest, having written only two paragraphs I've already forgotten what my point was going to be in this post. I know I had a point when I started, but now, not even two minutes into typing this, I've lost it. I need to stop working six days a week.

And on that note, hooray brother, hopefully it will all work out. And lists shall probably come next week, if I get back on my game.

Stay happy kiddos

Also, it seems Rawbean stopped blogging again. I'd have probably known this sooner had I read her blog more frequently. But I read other people's blogs about as frequently as I post my own, which gives you a pretty good idea as to how often that is. It isn't that I don't like the blog, if I didn't I wouldn't link to it from here, just that when I don't blog myself I kinda forget about the blogging of others. it's one of those out of site, out of mind (and that was an intentional pun, site instead of sight, as in website, it's funny because they're homophones).

Random "important" thoughts Part one

On Global Warming:
I don't know much about global warming. I generally believe in global warming, from the bits that I've read and seen on TV and such it makes sense to me. Do I think it's a catastrophic event that is going to destroy mankind? I have no idea, but probably not. Do I think that it's minute and nothing we should worry about? No, I definitely don't think that either. I'm somewhere in between those two poles in regards to the belief that global warming exists and it is caused to a certain extent by human beings and the industrialized world. Given that, my basic notion in regards to global warming and the environment is the following: whether global warming exists or not, it's still a good idea to try and keep our environment as clean as we can. Tossing global warming aside, anyone who argues that an Earth with more pollutants and less biodiversity is a good and healthy place to live is an idiot. Can't we just want clean air and water, and a bountiful and beautiful natural landscape because that's better living for all inhabitants of Earth, including (and especially) humans, without making it political? I'd like to think so.

On President Bush:
I think I'm one of the few liberals that I know, who has grown to like Bush more as time goes on than less. Which is not to say that I think he is a good president, or actually agree with his policies. Perhaps like is too strong of a word. Grown more tolerant of our current president is probably a better way of putting it. I recently had a short conversation with someone at work (not a fellow employee but a customer) who was going on about how Bush is a fascist, and then started comparing him to Hitler. Many jokesters like saying that Bush is nothing like Hitler because Hitler was democratically elected. This may be so, but Hitler then dismantled the government, started a world war of conquest, and institutionalized genocide in Eastern Europe. So far, as I am aware, the government as imagined by the constitution still exists. We have started a war, and though many have categorized it as a colonialist occupation, the ultimate goal is one of withdrawal. Granted there has been tremendous deal of lying, and the removal of civil liberties, along with the ignoring of international treaties (as in the Geneva convention) but we as the public are slowly gaining ground on these issues, and hopefully the next president will be able to restore the seat of the presidency so there isn't such egregious abuse of power in the future (which means I hope a democrat wins in 2008). Do I think he is a bad president? Definitely. Do I think he might have broken the law and thus should be prosecuted? I do. Do I think he's evil? No I don't. I think the more I hear or read arguments comparing him to leaders like Hitler, or calling him a fascist, the more tolerant I become due to the extreme fallacy of those arguments.

It's a bird, it's a plane, it's a 98 lb. weakling caught in a gentle breeze

I always said I knew I was out of shape. I just don't think I really knew that I was out of shape. One of those, "sure I can't run a marathon, but I'm a pretty healthy guy" sort of out of shape. Turns out, I'm just as out of shape as I said but never really believed I was.

I went to the gym this morning because I thought it would be a good idea and I need something like that in my life right now. I'm not really into free weights or the machines, so I settled on swimming. I almost made nine laps (well, technically if you consider there and back a single lap it was really almost five laps) before my heart was beating so fast I thought it would explode, and there was the serious and realistic fear that I would throw up in the pool. Luckily not only did my heart eventually slow down, but I managed to keep all my insides in.

So I'm going to have to go again, and probably join the gym if I think it's something I could get into. My main problem with working out is that there isn't any stopping point. It's not like, say learning an instrument, where it's hard work for a while, but once you learn it you don't need to take lessons anymore and just play for fun. I can't swim until I'm in shape, and then just stop, because that "in-shapeiness" will disappear. I don't want to be a slave to a gym for the rest of my life.

On a side note, I hate public showers. My father said this is a phobia I have to overcome. It isn't a phobia. I'm not scared of public showers, I can use them (and used one today in fact) I just don't like them. I don't care how often they are cleaned, it isn't solely a cleanliness issue. I like privacy when I shower. I like to absorb the heat, take it in slowly, and relax as I clean. This is very difficult to accomplish when there are a bunch of naked people walking around. I have no problem with the nudity in the locker room, or even being naked in the locker room myself. It's just a shower to me is a very personal thing. Growing up in a family of six with only three bedrooms (well two if you don't count my parents bedroom), doesn't really allow for any private or personal space. The shower was a refuge of privacy one couldn't really find anywhere else in the house. And that is how I still view it. Showering in public is antithetical to my belief's as to how a shower should be.

I'm totally freaking out!

But only on the inside. On the outside I'm completely calm. Actually, I'm pretty much calm all over, with sporadic panic attacks.

I can't explain, but perhaps one day, when i'm no longer panicing, I'll let you all (i.e. the internet) in on the joke.

Note, 7:45pm: Never mind. All is good. I am not freaking out. That was only a test. If it was a real emergency, my head would have exploded.

On the state of my thoughts

There was a job I wanted. I didn't get it. It kinda sucks. This is a pretty boring entry, but I still don't know what I really want this blog to be about. It may just turn back into what it was before, but I almost feel like that would be counter productive. Either way, I'm thinking about turning comments off, because as it stands I only have one reader left after my haitus (Hi Rawbean).

So if I'm doing this for me (and why would I be doing this for me on the internet? if it's just for me shouldn't it be completely private?) why do I need comments in the first place?

Decent questions, perhaps I'll come up with some answers.

Probably not though.

giving this a shot

I've been absent. I realized the that I didn't have much to say, and I don't know if I really want to continue blogging at all, though I figure I'll give this a bit of a go; but I think changes are in store.

I just don't know what they are yet.

A Cat-tastrophy

I don't know if there is an equivelent of "Cat Lady" for guys, but I have a strong feeling/fear that if there is I will be said "Cat Guy" (which shouldn't be confused with the lame Batman villan Cat-man - a not quite third rate knock-off of Catwoman - though Gail Simone has done some great things actually making him an interesting character, but I digress).

I was walking home from my father's synogogue on Friday night and this kitten, an adorable sivler colored kitten, starts following me home. It was dying for attention and I would have guessed it to be someone's pet - being that it was so comfortable with people. Only it didn't have a collar so it was a stray (or at least a house cat that accidently escaped and now didn't know what to do). I really, really (I can't stress this enough) wanted to take the cat home and adopt it, because it was so cute and needy and cute. Only I my folks already have two cats and there isn't room for any more (well there is, but they don't want another one).

Which makes me scared for when I have a place of my own again ( I miss having my own place) that I'll adopt stray cats left and right. And I know I will too. I'm going to grow up and be the scary guy on the block with hundreds of cats going to and fro through my house/apartment/shack/tent/cardboard box. It's scary, but I know it's gonna happen.

Also, the era of internet tests has yet to come to a close. Behold, a test to determine my political beliefs:

You scored as Democrat. <'Imunimaginative's Deviantart Page'> Democrat 92% Green 83% Anarchism 67% Socialist 50% Communism 50% Republican 8% Nazi 0% Fascism 0% What Political Party Do Your Beliefs Put You In? created with QuizFarm.com

This is actually the second time I took it. The first time it said I was 8% nazi, which didn't make my sense to me at all. I may be many things (actually I am many things) but Nazi is definitely not one of them.

I think it's because I answered I was a little racist. Which is true. I think everyone is a little racist, or prejudiced or whatever you want to call it. It's human nature to be suspicious of people who are different. I'm not saying everyone is a (instert skin color, race, religion ect. here) supremicist, just that everyone has a natural inclination towards homogeny. It's why you get neighborhoods like Little Italy, or Chinatown, or The Lower East side (at least back in the early 20th century when it was mostly Jewish) in New York. And there isn't anything wrong with that. As long as you don't let it control you, you'll be fine. But to claim outright that there isn't prejudiced bone in your body is just lying to yourself.

Ok, rant over.

And I still insist I'm not even the slightest bit a nazi.

(also, I don't get the whole 67% anarchist, but I'm not gonna get into it. It's really a stupid test, but as devoted readers know, I love 'em).

I think I might be running out of things to say

I'm hoping this one is pretty self-explanatory.

Just because (or, it's late, I'm bored, and I don't want to go to sleep yet)

So I was really bored at work this past week and my work buddy at Tribeca (my fellow intern) said I should create a Myspace page. I think Myspace is utterly ridiculous and very, very inane. But, I was bored, and she was insistent, mostly because she too was bored and wanted something to read (assuming I'd come up with something clever for my Myspace page). So now I have a myspace page. It's really lame, and I don't plan on really doing anything with it. I'm just keeping it until said buddy/fellow intern gets bored with it and then I'll take it down. I only mention this out of a interest of full disclosure, so no one thinks I'm hiding anything, I’m letting you know of my newest secret embarrassment (yes I am embarrassed, I now - albeit temporarily - have become a myspace person. Grahh!).

Luckily however, I shall not be alone in my embarrassment. Below you'll find a video of the aforementioned co-worker. As you'll notice she has a strange obsession with one of the dances from an older iPod commercial. This is actually her (I took it from her Myspace page) not some random video I found, so keep your minds out of the gutter. Don't worry though, she wears more at work.




Final note: J_ recently said that she thinks I should stop blogging about my daily adventures and devote this blog to essays/articles about pop culture and such (probably reviews of movies/comics/tv/ ect. As well). I don’t' think I really have the background to do this competently, and I said I probably wouldn't do that. Only the more I think about it, the more I wonder. I wonder how it would affect the few readers that I have if I did in fact change this blog? Would it be a change you'd all appreciate or something you'd rather not read? I can't say that I'd change my mind based on any of your thoughts, as J_ does have the most sway, I'm just curious what you all think.

All right, carry on then....

nothing special: a recap

Why do I even bother?

Got to my brother's birthday dinner, Yay!

Started to get sick on Monday, Boo!

Really got sick on Tuesday, Boo!

Best friend Jason flew up from Atlanta to visit, Yay!

Fought cold as we walked around Greenwich village, meh.

Had Etheiopian food for dinner, Yay!

Skipped work on Wenesday to go to the MoMA with Jason, Yay!

Was really sick the entire time, Boo!

Saw Famke Janssen at the MoMA, Wow!

Went to Dinner at Mendy's with Jason and two siblings (Mendy's Jerry, Mendy's!), Meh.

Had drinks in Hell's Kitchen with Jason, sibling, sibling's girlfreind, and girlfriend's roommate, Yay!

Pretended I wasn't feeling ill, though I was horribly sick, Boo!

Opened Starbucks (5:30 AM) nearly dead to the world, Boo!

Went bowling with Jason and a Sibling, Yay!

My highest score: 83, Boo!

Still tried to hide my horrible sickness, drank too much espresso to cover my deadness, Boo!

Ate at a Bolivian Restaraunt with Jason and his freinds, Meh.

Shot pool with Sibling and Jason, Yay!

Wanted to curl up and die the entire time (sickness yuck!), Boo!

Drove Jason to the airport, Boo.

Slept for the rest of Friday and Saturday, Yay!

Went out to get drinks with Starbucks Friends, Yay!

Came home early because was still getting over the cold, Boo!

Bonded with E and J from work on the ride home, Yay!

Woke up feeling better but still a little stuffed up, Meh.

Wrote my first post in a week, Yay!

And now you know, and knowing is half the battle.

Momentary bliss

The bad news: The Stars concert I was planning on going too (on Rawbean's recommendation) is sold out, thus I shall not be attending.

The worse news: I am scheduled to be the opener at Starbucks tomorrow and Sunday, which means I get to wake up at the devil hour known as Five AM. The last time I was up at Five AM was due to the fact I hadn't gone to sleep yet the night before.

Changing the subject dramatically, I ride the LIRR four times a week. Twice to Manhattan and twice back. While I generally sleep during the morning ride, because even eight o'clock is too early for me, I am awake during the ride home - not because I'm not tired; rather I don't want to miss my stop, sleeping my way towards Long Island (and yes, this has happened, but I prefer not talking about it).

The ride is generally bumpy, loud, and bright. It's bumpy as most public rail systems are in some way bumpy (what the reason is I have no idea, I am not the engineer I make myself out to be). It's loud because the air conditioning units that circulate air in the cars are loud, letting you know how hard they are working to afford you "clean" air to breath. Not only is the free flowing air loud, but the motor that circulates said air grumbles something akin to a troll. And of course there are the florescent lights that keep the cars safe and full of horrid florescent light. Though the majority of all my rides home the train is filled with this, what I've deemed, "Florescent noise" (not the cleverest of names, but it suits the atmosphere nicely) every so often there are gaps; perhaps in the electric currents, perhaps in the circuitry, perhaps somewhere else entirely. All I know is during these gaps, when the lights suddenly go off, and the numbing drone of the recycled air dissipates, the train sails along near silently, the beats of our hearts pumping in rhythm with the soft palpitations of the wheels on the tracks, and we can see out into through darkness the isle of Manhattan growing distant and (what I think is, though am not sure) the Queensborough Bridge lit up off across the water.

For those few moments, before the electricity kicks back in, with Manhattan shrinking behind me, and Queens slowly expanding before my eyes, in the dark, the city actually looks peaceful and calm.

Then the lights come back and the air pumps loudly through the car, and I am reminded that New York city is by far and large a bright and noisy place.

But for those few seconds as the train treks on in quiet, I almost think that all is right with the world.

Almost.

Haven't had a night like this since college

Still tired, perhaps too tired to come up with a clever way to relate the details, but if I don't write it now, I probably never will.

Last night, whilst in the midst of watching the episode of Monk I DVRed the phone rang. As I infrequently receive phone calls at this house I turned to my pops and said, "It's for you." I didn't know if it was actually for him, I just didn't want to get off the couch and answer the phone.

Sure enough, my father answered and started laughing because the call was in fact for me.

"Hello?"
"Hi, Ami?"
"Yes?"
"How are you?"
"I'm fine."
"Do you know who this is?" I had absolutely no clue who "this" was. I thought maybe my freind Charlie in Boston, but Charlie wouldn't ask me if I know that it was her, also, I know Charlie's voice, she's one of my best pals. Thus:
"Er... No. I don't."
"It's J---." She answered. (I don't know why but I am keeping it anonymous).
"How did you get this number?" I asked. J--- is one of my co-workers at Starbucks. We get along really well. We aren't best buds or anything, but we almost always have fun when working with each other (there is a lot of good busting of chops involved).
"It's on the partner list. How would you like to lose your money playing poker?"

Yes, it is true, I am a very poor poker player. It isn't that I don't know how to play. I just have an incredibly readable face (I can't bluff to save my life) and I tend to fold too quickly. There was a previous poker night at Starbucks and a few employees thought it would be fun to do it again. Not doing anything else that evening I went down to Starbucks to meet up with four other fellow off duty employees, to play. First we drove to J---'s house but couldn't play there because there was an electrical short, basically a power outage.

Not having anywhere else to play, we drove back to Starbucks, stole a table from the customers and put it in the surveillance camera blind spot in the back room and played poker until closing time. It was very simple. We each put in six bucks (yes we are young and poor), and played until those six bucks were spent. The person who has all the money in the end wins. Blinds were doubled after each round. I of course was the first person knocked out.

At 10:45 we finished up. Since the night was still young we decided to go bowling. We were only able to bowl one string since J--- had to be home by 12:30. I expected to lose as my bowling skills are sub par. I guess it all really depends on with whom you bowl as I won with only a 99 (I couldn't even break 100).

J--- and E--- left leaving the five that we were down to three. Still feeling like it was early, the three of us decide to find a place to play pool.

The first place we went was a very nice bar. By which I mean nicer than any other bar I've yet been too. The kind you always see in the movies in cool blue with hip music playing and weird screens and images projected, where everyone is somewhere between 23-35 dressed well (well as in clubbing attire, not suits or such) with far too much disposable income (comparatively anyway).

Their was a 40 minute wait for a table so instead we drove down to a place I was much more comfortable in. Large, a bit creaky, poorly maintained billiard tables and some sort of watered down $2.00 beer on tap (only two different brands). We got ourselves a table, played nine ball for about an hour, realizing that we weren't very good, and that the thrill had ended, we decided to stop.

It was a little after two in the morning by that point. Both people I was with had to open the store at 5:30 AM about three and a half hours away. They decided that since they were up so late, why not just stay up until they have to open. And on that thoroughly irrational decision we drove to the Georgia Peach diner. I was pushing for a real greasy spoon diner, something where you can get a bottomless cup of coffee and pie for two bucks. The Georgia peach is a bit more high class, and the food was more expensive than a diner ought to be.

Regardless, we all ordered grilled cheese sandwiches and coffee (tea for me) and bickered over the poor music choices offered by the table jukebox, and just hung out until around 5 when we realized we needed to get back to the Starbucks.

The night had turned cold and the rain into snow. Queens was relatively quiet and blanketed in snow, I'd have to say almost peaceful, as we drove down the LIE.

It was the snow that made my night though. I've been waiting far too long for real snow here in New York. I didn't quite realize it before, but the New England blood coursing through my veins yearned for real winter snow, and real winter cold. It was more satisfying that it probably should have been, and I was the only person not complaining about the weather.

I haven't slept since then, as I didn't want to ruin my sleep schedule. I shall probably crash in about an hour or two and sleep until morning, when it is then time for me to go to work. So, on this note I wish you good night.

A whole new year, the same old me

I had tremendous fun this New Year’s Eve, probably the first really fun new years I've had since I was in high school.

That being said, my fun doesn't translate well to an interesting story. Nothing unusual happened; I didn't do anything crazy, I didn't meet anyone and fall in love, or even any sort of drunken one night stand. I didn't go to Times Square (though I did wind up at 56th street and 7th avenue 14 blocks away from times square). I didn't even get that drunk (again, it's been a while since I really drank and I'm pretty much a lightweight).

Here's what happened and I'll try (though probably fail) to be brief. My brother Hillel and I took the 5:50 LIRR to Manhattan Saturday night. We then hopped on the 1 to 14th street transferred to the L train and got off at North 7th in Brooklyn. We walked a block down to North 6th and into a bar aptly named North Six. Coats checked (seven bucks for two coats and one backpack, plus the one dollar tip - much less than I though we'd have to pay), we waited on line for about a half hour, picked up the tickets we bought online, then entered upstairs where we waited another hour. At about 8 PM a man named Jedidiah Parish took the stage with his guitar. He sang one thoroughly entertaining song, then played about eight very bad ones. It wasn't until a little after nine that They Might Be Giants (my all time favorite band ever) took the stage. The concert was freaking amazing. Probably one of the best I've seen in the smallest venue I've ever seen them (I have seen them at least once a year since I moved off to college a little over 8 years ago). The show was sold out, maximum capacity of 300 people. They rocked. Also hilarious. Great entertainers through and through.

It was the early show (ended at 10:30) and for the final song they passed out flyers to the audience and led us all in the complete (five whole verses, and pardon my spelling) Auld Lang Syne (did I get it right?).

We got out of the bar (collecting our coats took about ten minutes) at about 10:50. We hopped back on the L rode it up to seventh (or was it eighth? I can't remember) and took the A train uptown to 59th st. We backtracked three blocks to 56th and got to Lily's (Hillel's girlfriend) apartment at around 11:30 PM.

At Lily's in addition to myself and Hillel: Lily of course, Amanda (Lily's roommate), Asaf (my youngest brother who was lazy and didn't buy a ticket to the show – he blames the subway strike but I know the truth), and two of Amanda's friends whom I didn't know (and have also by now forgotten their names - though they were really cool people). We drank some beer (blue moon) and some wine (I don't remember the name but Amanda works for the company who makes it) and ate some cheese and crackers and some sort of chopped mushroom spread - which I enjoyed immensely, though that may just be because I didn't really eat dinner. I really only hung out with Amanda once prior for about an hour or so, and apparently made an excellent impression on her. Luckily Asaf wanted to sleep in his own bed back in Queens instead of at his dorm so Asaf and I left at 12:30 (after watching the Ball Drop on the TV, all of us marveling we were watching something taking place barely 10 blocks away). I say luckily as I managed to leave when I was still entertaining thus maintaining Amanda's good impression. There will probably be a day she realizes how big of a dork I really am, but I'm safe on that front; for now.

Asaf and I caught the 1:20 AM train and took the LIRR back home. We got home a little after two and I fell asleep at 2:30 AM.

I woke up at noon, ate breakfast and spent a very lazy Sunday with my brother playing the original Zelda (you know the old one for the first Nintendo system) on his Gamecube. He purchased off of Ebay a Gamecube disk with the two original Zelda games along with the two for N64, hence our ability to play a very old game on a very new (well not that new really) gaming system.

The End.

Oh and my new favorite quote for the new year (yes I stole it from Noodles and changed the spelling) New Year is like taking off in an airplane for the umpteenth time and being sure that, this time, it will certainly finally crash.. -Eliza BeLittle

Couldn't have said it better myself, and really wish I came up with it first.

Tom Arnold Scares Me - but that's really neither here nor there

I hate washing my hair. Contrawise, I hate lice and dandruff. These two opposing thoughts haunt me each morning as I take my daily shower. My aversion to shampoo has nothing to do with a fear of cleanliness. It has nothing to do with any sort of fruity or chemical smell associated with hair care products. This hate (and I'm a little embaressed to admit) stems entirely from aesthetic considerations.

It's time I just came out and admited it. I tried to hide it my entire life, especially in high school, I could barely admit it to myself let alone my freinds, and I know my family knew. I have curly hair. There I said it (wrote it). It's like a huge weight has been lifted off my chest. I have curly hair. In my youth I used to look at all the kids with longs thin straight hair and wish my hair would look like theirs. I cut my hair short, I buzzed it each summer so no one would know. Then as I got older I grew my hair out and tried all sorts of cuts to hide the curls dying to be free.

I wore hats. Dear lord did I wear hats. All sorts of hats. Big hats, little hats, vitnage and retro hats, strange and multicolor hats. Anything so my frizzy curly (I used to say wavy but that was a lie) hair wouldn't be noticed.

It has been a long journey for me to admit what was so glaringly obvious to the rest of the world. My hair just isn't straight. Those of you out there with perfect straight hair will not understand this next bit. As a person with curly hair, shampoo kills me. It drains my head, my brown locks of all their essential oils and such. Thus upon exiting the shower, and drying my head, my hair is nothing more than a giant puff of frizz. Sure I use special anti-frizz shampoo and conditioner, but even the strongest dose just isn't strong enough.

I used to dream of having prefectly managable straight hair. The kind of thin strands than just fall across the head and sit perfectly regardless how often you do or do not comb them.

There is about one day in seven when my hair actaully works. The day when it's just oily enough not to be gross, but oily enough to keep my loose curls in check. Before that day there isn't enough natural oils and it's frizz city, and after that day there is too much oil and my that's just kinda gross.

One of the first things I'm going to do after I get my first paycheck (whenever that is,I should probably enquire the bosses of Starbucks as to when I get paid) I'm going to go out and get a hair cut. I don't know what it's going to look like, but I'm going to take the risk with a new barber. All I really need is to find one good cut and stick with it. So far, my rebllious hair does not like being told what to do. I hope that in time I can train it before it invariably falls out (I have a full head of hair, but as baldness has afflicted every generation of men on both sides of my family before me, I assume it's only a matter of time until I join them).

But it never listened to me before, so why should it start now?