Posts
I was tagged so I continue the meme.
4 Jobs I've had
-telemarketer
-e-commerce and shipping manager
-Private tutor
-film equipment rental center employee
4 Movies I can watch over and over
-Duck Soup
-Manhattan
-My Girl Friday
-Indiana Jones and the Lost Ark
4 Places I've lived
-Springfield, MA
-Boston, MA
-Jerusalem, Israel
-Queens, NY
4 Places I've vacationed
-Eilat, Israel
-Disney World
-Montreal, Canada
-The Grand Canyon, AZ
4 of my favorite dishes
-Tofu Pad Thai
-Atakilt (etheopian)
-Just regular sauce and cheese brick oven Pizza
-Pita with Hummus
4 Non-Blogger sites I visit daily
-Questionable Content (webcomic)
-Triggerstreet
-Google
-Boston Globe.com (but only since I've moved away from boston, when I lived in Boston it was the NY times.com)
4 Places I'd like to visit
-New Zealand
-Japan
-Hawaii
-Italy
4 People I'm tagging
-Amanda
-Noodles
-Alex
-And anyone else who hasn't been tagged and wants to post this meme.
Friday, January 27, 2006
Thursday, January 26, 2006
The most amazing thing I've ever seen
Hold onto your socks kiddos. You are about to be blown away with an overdose of sheer brilliance. It doesn't get any better than this. Don't cheat yourself out of this experience. Don't cop out with some lame excuse. You must press play.
You'll thank me later, trust me.
You'll thank me later, trust me.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Much easier than actually writing something clever
You want funny? I give you the Axe.
You want disturbing? I give you K-Fed.
You want just weird? I give you neon pork (no that wasn't doctored, for more info go here).
And brand new because I didn't want to start a fresh post: You want something far more ingenious than I (than me? Grammatically I'm a bit befuddled here)? I give you this visual poem.
You want disturbing? I give you K-Fed.
You want just weird? I give you neon pork (no that wasn't doctored, for more info go here).
And brand new because I didn't want to start a fresh post: You want something far more ingenious than I (than me? Grammatically I'm a bit befuddled here)? I give you this visual poem.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Ti Chi or Chai Tea?
I fear I have run out of interesting things to say.
Also, I'm a horrible friend. One of my best friends whom I've known forever got engaged on New Years. It is now 18 days later and I have yet to call and congragulate him. I'm doing it tommorrow, I swear, I just should have done it the very next day. Man I totally suck.
Also, I'm a horrible friend. One of my best friends whom I've known forever got engaged on New Years. It is now 18 days later and I have yet to call and congragulate him. I'm doing it tommorrow, I swear, I just should have done it the very next day. Man I totally suck.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Film, Television, and my worthless opinions
I started an internship at Tribeca Productions yesterday. I am going to be the intern/slave for Tribeca ever Monday from 9:30 in the AM to 6:30 in the PM (yesterday wasn't a Monday, but it was a training day).
It'd say it's cool, but it only is conceptually. I've already been informed the likelihood of this at any point turning into a real job is basically nil. I mean I'm keeping my hopes up and all, but one must be realistic. This is just basically a stepping stone so I can put Tribeca Productions on my resume and hope that it will land me a better job. But it's a start, so I am happy. The work itself is pretty boring. I sit in a small office, run copies of script coverage to the Production heads, and mail out screenplay submissions to the professional readers so that they can write the script coverage. I also answer phones and other light clerical work. The intern who trained me said there will be a lot of down time with nothing to do. Luckily, all the scripts (submissions and current projects) are filed in the intern office thus giving me the opportunity to read all those scripts. I started reading a submission titled: The Sexiest Man Alive (no it isn't about me, but it was nice of you to think that). I'm not going to say if it's any good or not (Yes I will, it has some funny moments but over all very tepid), but it did start to make me wonder why if this guy has representation (Tribeca won't accept any unsolicited submissions) don't I? I should work on that.
Second thoughts: I watched the premier of Love Monkey last night purely because I like the name. Unfortunately that's all I really liked. There is really one big reason I didn't like this show, and that reason's name is Judy Greer. Tom Cavanagh as the lead is fine, he's basically playing Ed in the big city. He's very good at being adorable. The other actors aren't really that inspired but they aren't bad actors, just what you'd expect from a standard hour long drama/comedy. Judy Greer is the exception. And it isn't her fault. I don't like the show not because she's in it, but because she isn't used well at all. Out of all the actors they have, she is the one with the best comedic timing. She may not have been in the best movies, but she is always the funniest and most interesting character in said movies. Anyone else who doubts her keen grasp of comedic timing, I give you her performance on Arrested Development. She is a talented comedic actress and in this poor man's sex in the city (really it's a poor man's Jake in Progress which itself is a bad male rip off of Sex in the City) she is given no funny lines or actions. Her character is so vanilla it hurts to watch. Not because it's unbelievable, but because she's capable of so much more and the weak minds of the writers and directors are holding her back.
It's a stupid rant, but please, Ms. Greer, you're better than that.
It'd say it's cool, but it only is conceptually. I've already been informed the likelihood of this at any point turning into a real job is basically nil. I mean I'm keeping my hopes up and all, but one must be realistic. This is just basically a stepping stone so I can put Tribeca Productions on my resume and hope that it will land me a better job. But it's a start, so I am happy. The work itself is pretty boring. I sit in a small office, run copies of script coverage to the Production heads, and mail out screenplay submissions to the professional readers so that they can write the script coverage. I also answer phones and other light clerical work. The intern who trained me said there will be a lot of down time with nothing to do. Luckily, all the scripts (submissions and current projects) are filed in the intern office thus giving me the opportunity to read all those scripts. I started reading a submission titled: The Sexiest Man Alive (no it isn't about me, but it was nice of you to think that). I'm not going to say if it's any good or not (Yes I will, it has some funny moments but over all very tepid), but it did start to make me wonder why if this guy has representation (Tribeca won't accept any unsolicited submissions) don't I? I should work on that.
Second thoughts: I watched the premier of Love Monkey last night purely because I like the name. Unfortunately that's all I really liked. There is really one big reason I didn't like this show, and that reason's name is Judy Greer. Tom Cavanagh as the lead is fine, he's basically playing Ed in the big city. He's very good at being adorable. The other actors aren't really that inspired but they aren't bad actors, just what you'd expect from a standard hour long drama/comedy. Judy Greer is the exception. And it isn't her fault. I don't like the show not because she's in it, but because she isn't used well at all. Out of all the actors they have, she is the one with the best comedic timing. She may not have been in the best movies, but she is always the funniest and most interesting character in said movies. Anyone else who doubts her keen grasp of comedic timing, I give you her performance on Arrested Development. She is a talented comedic actress and in this poor man's sex in the city (really it's a poor man's Jake in Progress which itself is a bad male rip off of Sex in the City) she is given no funny lines or actions. Her character is so vanilla it hurts to watch. Not because it's unbelievable, but because she's capable of so much more and the weak minds of the writers and directors are holding her back.
It's a stupid rant, but please, Ms. Greer, you're better than that.
Monday, January 16, 2006
Sunday, January 15, 2006
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.
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.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Monday, January 09, 2006
The good and the bad (the ugly is on a much needed vacation)
I have caught a cold. It's one of those really annoying completely bearable colds. It's just enough to make you feel lousy, but not lousy enough to skip work, or any other aspect of life to rot in front of the TV with a box of tissues and hot soup. This is me drinking tons of OJ, sucking down halls vitamin C drops (strawberry flavored) and drinking cup after cup of chamomile tea. For dinner on Friday I made an egg drop soup (super easy) and a rice and spinach casserole. The egg drop soup was good - though kinda a cheat. It's just about a quart of chicken stock (fake chicken stock for us vegetarians) a tablespoon of soy sauce, and a tablespoon of tomato sauce. When it's all boiling you drop two eggs (already scrambled) into the soup and whisk vigorously for thirty seconds. Serve immediately with some chopped scallions to garnish. It's not filling but it is definitely soothing.
My brother made the astute and oddly accurate remark that the casserole was both bland and spicy at the same time. Yes I know that sounds impossible, yet with my culinary skills (or lack thereof) I have achieved this dichotomous feat. Needless to say we have a lot left over in the fridge.
I have a new script up on Triggerstreet available for anyone to read. The bad news, you have to become a member of Triggerstreet to actually read any of the scripts posted there. The good news, membership is free, and they really don't give out any personal information. I've been a member for nearly a year and all my info has been kept completely and utterly confidential. The script is called Nothing into Something (working title only) and has gotten three reviews starting it off at number 96 on the site. For those of you unfamiliar (have yet to read my rants about triggerstreet here, here, here, here, here, here, and here) Triggerstreet is a forum and to a lesser extent competition for amateur screenwriters and film makers to post their work and get feedback from other members (technically it's also Kevin Spacey's production company). The feedback one receives comes in the form of reviews thus giving one's script a ranking. New rankings are compiled nightly based on any new reviews. As I see it 96 is a very respectable starting point as there are 2317 ranked scripts on the site. Being in the top 100 is great, though I wouldn't mind this one hitting the top ten. I just have to wait for more reviews to pour in.
If you are curious as to what my screenplays might be like feel free to join Triggerstreet and check for yourself. I would make them downloadable from my blog if only I knew how.
My brother made the astute and oddly accurate remark that the casserole was both bland and spicy at the same time. Yes I know that sounds impossible, yet with my culinary skills (or lack thereof) I have achieved this dichotomous feat. Needless to say we have a lot left over in the fridge.
I have a new script up on Triggerstreet available for anyone to read. The bad news, you have to become a member of Triggerstreet to actually read any of the scripts posted there. The good news, membership is free, and they really don't give out any personal information. I've been a member for nearly a year and all my info has been kept completely and utterly confidential. The script is called Nothing into Something (working title only) and has gotten three reviews starting it off at number 96 on the site. For those of you unfamiliar (have yet to read my rants about triggerstreet here, here, here, here, here, here, and here) Triggerstreet is a forum and to a lesser extent competition for amateur screenwriters and film makers to post their work and get feedback from other members (technically it's also Kevin Spacey's production company). The feedback one receives comes in the form of reviews thus giving one's script a ranking. New rankings are compiled nightly based on any new reviews. As I see it 96 is a very respectable starting point as there are 2317 ranked scripts on the site. Being in the top 100 is great, though I wouldn't mind this one hitting the top ten. I just have to wait for more reviews to pour in.
If you are curious as to what my screenplays might be like feel free to join Triggerstreet and check for yourself. I would make them downloadable from my blog if only I knew how.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
oh the indignity
I shaved my beard off this morning. All gone. I'm clean shaven like and fresh faced just like my avatar. I dislike shaving as I have incredibly sensitive skin. So sensitive I'm the only person I know bleeds after using an electric razor (and no it isn't the razor's fault). Though my cheeks and chin are fresh and smooth (or as smooth as they ever get) I decided to leave my sideburns long. Kinda seventies styled long. Not too wide, just long (they reach my jawbone). It's not a bad look, but it isn't a good look either. I did it for fun, just to do something different.
Then at work, there I was standing next to a female co-worker when a patron (an older lady carrying her dog in a bag - I hate those people!) came in and said "Excuse me ladies, can I have a Caramel Macchiato (sp?)." Ladies!
My co-worker (who shall remain anonymous) cracked up. She laughed like I've never seen her laugh prior and for a good two minutes with barely taking a breath.
Ladies indeed.
***LATE NIGHT ADDITION***
Because cleverness should be shared by as many people as possible I direct you to this post by the girl who rides the vespa
Then at work, there I was standing next to a female co-worker when a patron (an older lady carrying her dog in a bag - I hate those people!) came in and said "Excuse me ladies, can I have a Caramel Macchiato (sp?)." Ladies!
My co-worker (who shall remain anonymous) cracked up. She laughed like I've never seen her laugh prior and for a good two minutes with barely taking a breath.
Ladies indeed.
***LATE NIGHT ADDITION***
Because cleverness should be shared by as many people as possible I direct you to this post by the girl who rides the vespa
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
A retrospective, my fifteen favorite posts (narcissim anyone?)
It's been exactly a year since my first post on Blogspot. I have been blogging (as I hear the kids call it) for a year, and it's probably the only thing in my life the past year that has been consistent (and you all know how consistent my posting is, so what does that tell you about my life?). Anyway, in honor of my psuedo acheivment I give you my fifteen favorite posts that I wrote of this past year. I was going to do twenty, but thought that'd be too many, and ten didn't seem like enough for me to revel in my own narcisism. Some you might have read, some you might have not. Feel free to read the old ones you missed, or re-read my newer favorites. Yes, it's egotism at its best, but it's also far easier to put up a retrospective like this than actually write something about the past year. Laziness how I adore thee. My top five are astrixed since I don't know how to make a star. These favorites were chosen as the ones that distill my nature and essense better to the bare essentials. If you didn't know what kind of person I was before, these are the posts to get you up to speed.
Wednesday, Janurary 5, 2005: First thoughts
Sunday, March 6, 2005: You're on my list***
Monday, April 11, 2005: I hate writing cover letters
Tuesday, April 12, 2005: Poetry in motion
Wednesday, April 20, 2005: I'd like to buy a Vowell
Thursday, April 21, 2005: Almost, but not at all, famous***
Monday, May 2, 2005: Passover outside of Neverland***
Wendesday, May 11, 2005: This is not a test (or a joke)
Friday, June 24, 2005: Yesterday around 5PM
Thursday, August 18, 2005: I'm a stinker
Monday, October 10, 2005: Octopussy
Sunday, October 30, 2005: Secrets: Lies and Truths
Thursday, November 3, 2005: The secret true history of Amichai***
Saturday, December 3, 2005: People whom I admire
Tuesday, December 6, 2005: Why I am a Huge Dork***
Apparently I wasn't very clever in Feburary, July, or September. And I'm more clever on Mondays, Wendesdays, and Thursdays than I am on other days. Good to know for the future I guess. Now you know the days and months to actually read this stuff.
Wednesday, Janurary 5, 2005: First thoughts
Sunday, March 6, 2005: You're on my list***
Monday, April 11, 2005: I hate writing cover letters
Tuesday, April 12, 2005: Poetry in motion
Wednesday, April 20, 2005: I'd like to buy a Vowell
Thursday, April 21, 2005: Almost, but not at all, famous***
Monday, May 2, 2005: Passover outside of Neverland***
Wendesday, May 11, 2005: This is not a test (or a joke)
Friday, June 24, 2005: Yesterday around 5PM
Thursday, August 18, 2005: I'm a stinker
Monday, October 10, 2005: Octopussy
Sunday, October 30, 2005: Secrets: Lies and Truths
Thursday, November 3, 2005: The secret true history of Amichai***
Saturday, December 3, 2005: People whom I admire
Tuesday, December 6, 2005: Why I am a Huge Dork***
Apparently I wasn't very clever in Feburary, July, or September. And I'm more clever on Mondays, Wendesdays, and Thursdays than I am on other days. Good to know for the future I guess. Now you know the days and months to actually read this stuff.
Monday, January 02, 2006
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
A day and a bad excuse in a few paragraphs (with far too many parentheses)
I kinda promised a post yesterday but I spent most of the day cuddled up in my room with the electric heater on. The heat in the house broke down. That is to say the heat worked, but the circulating pump (the pump that circulates the heat to the rest of the house - for those like me who aren't so mechanically inclined) decided to make the annoyingly loud sound as if a jackhammer was going off in the walls instead of circulating the heat as it is supposed to do (see previous parenthesis). To my good fortune the pump decided to start with the loud jackhammer-ish noise at approximately three o'clock in the AM. Waking up in a house sans heat (read: very cold) by the jackhammer of the circulating pump coming out of the heating vent instead of the heat I expected is quite possibly the worst way to wake up; ever (save some sort of horrific torturous experience involving toothpicks, super glue, hot sauce, and a digital camera).
I was so cold, and so very tired (I had to wake up early to drive a sibling to the train and then stay up in a stupor waiting for the heating repair man to arrive) I quickly curled back up into bed around 11:30 AM and fell promptly back to sleep until 2:30PM. I woke up cold and sniffling, head aching due to sinuses. The rest of my day was spent first in bed reading, a quick run to drive brother number two to the LIRR so he could get into Manhattan to pick up cookie dough he left in his dorm room fridge (also hang out with his friends); then back in bed where it was warm until my folks came home from an extended weekend away. Along with my folks came an unassembled entertainment center from Ikea I then assembled with the help of the first sibling who had since come home from work. By then it was warm in the house, but I was too tired to go online and fell asleep early to get to work on time to open the Starbucks this morning.
It wasn't a very busy day yesterday, but it was one that was the quite the opposite of being conducive to writing.
Chanukah (or Hanukah, or whatever - I never know how to spell it in English, so Amber, you're one up on me) is going fine I guess. Received no presents so far, but did not expect any. We aren't a big present giving family. The only reason presents are exchanged on Chanukah is due to its proximity with Christmas Jews wanted to get gifts too. Ever since Rebecca (Roni's Girlfriend - Roni being a brother of course) mentioned to my mom that she buys her folks a gift, my mom has been dropping a few hints. Thus, the four of us (from oldest to youngest: Me, Hillel, Roni, and Asaf) all chipped in and purchased them (the parental units) an ice cream maker. We figured it's a gift that they would enjoy (they do) and something we could partake from as well. They way I figure it's far better than a bowling ball with "Homer" inscribed on it (anyone who gets that is just as big as a dork as I am - so there).
The sweet spicy smell of hot sweet potato Latkes (for those of you who speak Yiddish), Levivot (for those of you who speak Hebrew) potato pancakes (for those of you who speak neither Yiddish nor Hebrew) that my father has made is slowly wafting its way to my desk. Hence I shall sign off here, sweet potato latkes and home made ice cream are both in my immediate future. Take care kiddies.
Post script: I saw The Chronicles of Narnia and my review will be posted on TheNoyse.com as soon as I write it. I'm just a lazy bastard.
I was so cold, and so very tired (I had to wake up early to drive a sibling to the train and then stay up in a stupor waiting for the heating repair man to arrive) I quickly curled back up into bed around 11:30 AM and fell promptly back to sleep until 2:30PM. I woke up cold and sniffling, head aching due to sinuses. The rest of my day was spent first in bed reading, a quick run to drive brother number two to the LIRR so he could get into Manhattan to pick up cookie dough he left in his dorm room fridge (also hang out with his friends); then back in bed where it was warm until my folks came home from an extended weekend away. Along with my folks came an unassembled entertainment center from Ikea I then assembled with the help of the first sibling who had since come home from work. By then it was warm in the house, but I was too tired to go online and fell asleep early to get to work on time to open the Starbucks this morning.
It wasn't a very busy day yesterday, but it was one that was the quite the opposite of being conducive to writing.
Chanukah (or Hanukah, or whatever - I never know how to spell it in English, so Amber, you're one up on me) is going fine I guess. Received no presents so far, but did not expect any. We aren't a big present giving family. The only reason presents are exchanged on Chanukah is due to its proximity with Christmas Jews wanted to get gifts too. Ever since Rebecca (Roni's Girlfriend - Roni being a brother of course) mentioned to my mom that she buys her folks a gift, my mom has been dropping a few hints. Thus, the four of us (from oldest to youngest: Me, Hillel, Roni, and Asaf) all chipped in and purchased them (the parental units) an ice cream maker. We figured it's a gift that they would enjoy (they do) and something we could partake from as well. They way I figure it's far better than a bowling ball with "Homer" inscribed on it (anyone who gets that is just as big as a dork as I am - so there).
The sweet spicy smell of hot sweet potato Latkes (for those of you who speak Yiddish), Levivot (for those of you who speak Hebrew) potato pancakes (for those of you who speak neither Yiddish nor Hebrew) that my father has made is slowly wafting its way to my desk. Hence I shall sign off here, sweet potato latkes and home made ice cream are both in my immediate future. Take care kiddies.
Post script: I saw The Chronicles of Narnia and my review will be posted on TheNoyse.com as soon as I write it. I'm just a lazy bastard.
Monday, December 26, 2005
so tired, so very tired.
First off, I have come to realize, though I'm not happy about Johnny's move (and as James pointed out it wasn't a trade, which I knew, only I wrote it wrong, whoops) I can't really blame him. It's the Red Sox fault for not doing a better job of holding on to him. He wanted seven years, they gave him four, and when the Yankees called and started courting him the Red Sox didn't really do much to try and keep him. Though I would never play for the Yankees (well I would but only because I suck at baseball, but if I was good I wouldn't) I understand why he left. I mean, if there are two companies trying to get your business, which one do you go to, the one who is activly courting you, going out of they're way to win you over; or the one that just seems lukewarm to you, not seemingly caring either way? Simple.
Just needed to get that off my chest. Not the most intersting of posts, but I'm wicked tired and I reek of coffee and espresso. Luckily I don't have to go in to work tommorrow. Expect a new post 'cause I'll have nothing else to do.
Just needed to get that off my chest. Not the most intersting of posts, but I'm wicked tired and I reek of coffee and espresso. Luckily I don't have to go in to work tommorrow. Expect a new post 'cause I'll have nothing else to do.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Mildly depressed
Johnny Damon has been traded to the Yankees. I'm not angry about it yet. I probably will be in a few days, but now it's like a shot to the gut. I can't stop the bleeding.
For any Yankee fans out there, nuts to you guys.
And for people who don't care either way, I give you the best advice I've ever received.
For any Yankee fans out there, nuts to you guys.
And for people who don't care either way, I give you the best advice I've ever received.
Monday, December 19, 2005
Kong is Long
There are three things I know to be true. Adrian Brody can't help but be adorable, Naomi Watts can't help but be gorgeous, and Peter Jackson can't help but make the most outrageous and breathtaking action sequences.
Thus, if all you care about is Naomi Watts's sexiness (even when caked with mud, sweaty, running from dinasours), Adrian Brody's adorableness (even when he's caked with mud running to dinasours trying to save Naomi Watts) and jaw dropping mindless action, all tied together with a thin plot involving monkey love, then you should go out right now - before you even finish this ridiculously long sentence - and see this movie.
Just like the original Kong, this one is filled with the most technologically advanced available special effects of the time. What the new one has that the older one doesn't: about 84 more minutes. Which is not to say I didn't like those extra 84 minutes. I have seen the Lord of the Rings theatrical releases, and I've also scene the extended versions. Watching King Kong felt like I was watching an extended version (albeit an extended version I liked) rather than the regular theatrical release. There are a few too many sub plots that don't add much to the rest of the story, and some character bits that are entertaining but slow down the plot.
And the action is gruesome. Not gory, there is no blood, but it's all violent none the less. One particular scene where I couldn't help but cringe was King Kong killing a T-rex in a very cruel fashion, basically ripping its head open and jamming it into the ground. It was harsh, but maybe I'm a bit too sensitive as all the kids at the ten year old birthday party seated a few seats behind me all broke out in laughter.
Jack Black, as Director Carl Denham sentimentalizes all the death and destruction for a brief moment, then glazes over larger considerations in his quest to make the prefect movie. Peter Jackson pretty much does the same - and I think this is the only real flaw in the film. Perhaps there should have been a disclaimer in the beginning of the picture: "No digital people were actually harmed in the making of this film." In Jackson's previous films the action was either for humor (yes black humor and kitsch value count), or had some sort of emotional connection to the audience. In this film, there isn't enough of either; mindless action for its own sake surprisingly does grate on you, especially after nearly three hours of it.
Here's what it really boils down to (to use a tool taken from the Donald Rumsfeld playbook), did I like this movie? Yes I did. Did I think it was too long? Very much so. Should you see this film in a theater? With out a doubt. Is this a must see movie? No, unfortunately it isn't.
So there you have it. I hoped that helped, and if not, I hope it at least entertained.
Thus, if all you care about is Naomi Watts's sexiness (even when caked with mud, sweaty, running from dinasours), Adrian Brody's adorableness (even when he's caked with mud running to dinasours trying to save Naomi Watts) and jaw dropping mindless action, all tied together with a thin plot involving monkey love, then you should go out right now - before you even finish this ridiculously long sentence - and see this movie.
Just like the original Kong, this one is filled with the most technologically advanced available special effects of the time. What the new one has that the older one doesn't: about 84 more minutes. Which is not to say I didn't like those extra 84 minutes. I have seen the Lord of the Rings theatrical releases, and I've also scene the extended versions. Watching King Kong felt like I was watching an extended version (albeit an extended version I liked) rather than the regular theatrical release. There are a few too many sub plots that don't add much to the rest of the story, and some character bits that are entertaining but slow down the plot.
And the action is gruesome. Not gory, there is no blood, but it's all violent none the less. One particular scene where I couldn't help but cringe was King Kong killing a T-rex in a very cruel fashion, basically ripping its head open and jamming it into the ground. It was harsh, but maybe I'm a bit too sensitive as all the kids at the ten year old birthday party seated a few seats behind me all broke out in laughter.
Jack Black, as Director Carl Denham sentimentalizes all the death and destruction for a brief moment, then glazes over larger considerations in his quest to make the prefect movie. Peter Jackson pretty much does the same - and I think this is the only real flaw in the film. Perhaps there should have been a disclaimer in the beginning of the picture: "No digital people were actually harmed in the making of this film." In Jackson's previous films the action was either for humor (yes black humor and kitsch value count), or had some sort of emotional connection to the audience. In this film, there isn't enough of either; mindless action for its own sake surprisingly does grate on you, especially after nearly three hours of it.
Here's what it really boils down to (to use a tool taken from the Donald Rumsfeld playbook), did I like this movie? Yes I did. Did I think it was too long? Very much so. Should you see this film in a theater? With out a doubt. Is this a must see movie? No, unfortunately it isn't.
So there you have it. I hoped that helped, and if not, I hope it at least entertained.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
To infinity and beyond
Off to see King Kong today. Don't know when I shall return. Skull Island is a very dangerous place.
Wish me luck.
Wish me luck.
Friday, December 16, 2005
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?
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?
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
I totally miss boston
Million Dollar Rabbi (having quicktime will definitely help)
These are the type of shananagins I've missed by moving to Queens. Both fellows in the video are my former roommates. I didn't think I missed my freinds so much, but apparently I do.
As the song goes "Boston you're my home."
Also, my thoughts on the holiday season, summed up by someone else. I don't know who wrote it, but I really wish it was me. If you get gooey over christmas, this might not be the read for you. (I should thank Jeremy for posting this on his blog first, otherwise I would never have found it.)
These are the type of shananagins I've missed by moving to Queens. Both fellows in the video are my former roommates. I didn't think I missed my freinds so much, but apparently I do.
As the song goes "Boston you're my home."
Also, my thoughts on the holiday season, summed up by someone else. I don't know who wrote it, but I really wish it was me. If you get gooey over christmas, this might not be the read for you. (I should thank Jeremy for posting this on his blog first, otherwise I would never have found it.)
Just another reason...
That cats are much cooler than dogs. I'm sure there are plenty of dog lovers out there, but honestly, how many of your dogs actually keep your bones healthy?
Also, you'll never see a cat use a lame set of stairs to get on and off the couch.
I have nothing against dogs, or those who love them. It's just that unless you are looking for drugs, or skiers lost in a mountain, or are a hunter, cats just make more sense (and are more usefull - and in my opinion more enjoyable - to have around).
So take that dog lovers! Cats are just cooler.
Scientists have demonstrated that cats produce the purr through intermittent signaling of the laryngeal and diaphragmatic muscles. Cats purr during both inhalation and exhalation with a consistent pattern and frequency between 25 and 150 Hertz. Various investigators have shown that sound frequencies in this range can improve bone density and promote healing.
This association between the frequencies of cats' purrs and improved healing of bones and muscles may provide help for some humans.
quote taken from the Scientific American website, article entitled: Why do cats purr?
Also, you'll never see a cat use a lame set of stairs to get on and off the couch.
I have nothing against dogs, or those who love them. It's just that unless you are looking for drugs, or skiers lost in a mountain, or are a hunter, cats just make more sense (and are more usefull - and in my opinion more enjoyable - to have around).
So take that dog lovers! Cats are just cooler.
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