Talk about irony happening every day in front of our eyes. As I walked home this evening from my Improv class (I’ll get into that later) I saw quite a seen. I was at the corner of 23rd and 6th avenue when I heard a sharp, deep, bang. I looked to my left and noticed a guy lying on the ground in front of a bus, a white city handicap bus no less. The irony came into play when I noticed the guy who had been hit, was now standing up, thankfully, had a cane in his hand. Did a guy with a cane really get hit by a handicap bus? Got to love this city…
As for the Improv class, I have to say it’s the first of its kind—for me that is… I, again with the irony ended up in the place on accident. About 3 months ago I was supposed to meet a group of friends at Gotham Comedy club on 23rd street for a night of laughs and at least two drinks. (most of the comedy clubs have a two drink minimum) I got there about 15 minutes early, asked if they had a reservation under my friends name, it was his birthday. They said no, but I just figured it was minute detail. As time passed no one else showed up. So after about 5 different phone calls saying “I’m here right now,” “no you’re not, I’m here right now” I realized that I was at Gotham City Improv on 23rd street not to be confused with Gotham Comedy Club on 22nd street. I’m the asshole right, how could have I confused the two?
So as I really started to feel trapped with my current job, and by trapped I mean like airport security on a guy wearing a turban. So a few weeks ago I tried a sample class and really enjoyed it. The class is about the most eclectic mix of people you could imagine. It’s like United Color of Benetton ad, but funny. I have since the first class found out that for the most part, the class is full of actors/make-up artists/waiters/hostesses. I really give those people credit. I’m not saying I want to hang up my shirt and tie for the stage quite yet, but at least they came to some point in their lives and said, “this is want I want to be, this is what I’m going to try and become.” So to you…struggling artists, out of work models, between-job actors, I salute you… You just the same as doctor or lawyer know what you want to be when you grow up. Albeit, you’re choice is less expensive, I can’t say it’s easier.
Thanks for listening
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Monday, January 30, 2006
A Rough Start
As if getting out of bed on a Monday morning is difficult enough, try doing it on just about the worst nights sleep ever. I know what you’re probably thinking…somebody did some drinking on Sunday. Sunday-Funday was the term that you’re probably thinking. However quite the opposite, I was quite good and was in bed at a decent time last night. Getting to bed was not the problem, in fact it was getting to sleep that seemed to be impossible last night…
I had Monday marked as a big day in my weekly, hell, monthly calendar. I was to speak with my boss after months of dragging her feet through mud about my raise and title. This “big talk,” this meeting was the reason for my tossing and turning. I’m very comfortable with my new job, (I know what you’re thinking you’re currently in your new job but you haven’t talked title or money) I’m confident in my skills and present those skills so why in the hell have I flipped from my right side to my left side 463 times since midnight?
Not only was there the pressure of an early meeting, there was the actual pressure of falling asleep in a timely manner. As it stands I received an ihomes alarm clock for Christmas I’ve been using since, around the 26th or so. It has this great function called the “sleep” function. For those who have never had a TV that was built after 1995 in their bedroom, it allows you to set a timer to shut itself off. I decided to give this a whirl. Thirty minutes, that’s all I need right? All of the sudden I found myself wondering how much time had gone by…two minutes, ten minutes? I had no idea. And in fear of becoming less asleep I was not going to prop open and eyeball that deviously white shinny machine! As I’m sure you expected I was in fact awake when the music stopped. It was like a depressing highly un-athletic game of musical chairs, “where the music stops nobody knows.”
To no surprise of mine morning came quickly. I hit snooze once, and actually thought that action was the perfect play as I heard one of my two roommates get in the shower. Just another 9 minutes (apparently the folks of Apple can’t count to ten) of sleep, then it was up and about. It was after those measly nine minutes I met my roommate has he walked out of what appeared to be a steam room, only to say “there’s no hot water.” Looking back, I guess the right thing for him to say would have been “there’s no more hot water.”
Surprisingly I actually used this spear time, waiting for some hot water to some how be created (as if giving the boiler a ten minute rest was going to resonate gallons of piping hot water) to find out what “power” shirt I was going to wear for my big day. After all, it was just that, it was the day I was going to tell or suggest just how much I’m worth. (In dollars that is) I opted for my favorite black slacks, comfortable, stylish but not too much of either to wipe the other out. As for my shirt, it was a sleeper. One from the back of the closet I pulled from the wreckage. A strong, perfectly fitting sky blue with white lines going vertical and horizontal, a sure winner. What’s funny about this shirt is it’s from H&M and cost very little as compared to the others accompanying it in the wreckage. For those non New Yorkers H&M is like a Gap meets Gucci at Old Navy Prices. The stuff looks great for one wear, and no one ever admits it’s from H&M.
As for the shower it was cold and quite quick. Just enough lather to get the bed bugs off. As for the shave it was hot, because I had to do it in the kitchen with a pot of nearly boiling water. That’s right, me in the kitchen, my fogless mirror in hand trying to make sure I didn’t miss that spot on my right cheek bone I always seem to skip. Only in New York can you pay an arm, a leg, and usually a pint or two of blood as a security deposit for a decent and I mean just decent apartment, would something like this happen. But I’m a New Yorker baby, I did it, I made it work and I went on with my Monday. As for the meeting with my boss? It went well, but you probably figured that right? It was the sky blue shirt…
Thanks for listening
I had Monday marked as a big day in my weekly, hell, monthly calendar. I was to speak with my boss after months of dragging her feet through mud about my raise and title. This “big talk,” this meeting was the reason for my tossing and turning. I’m very comfortable with my new job, (I know what you’re thinking you’re currently in your new job but you haven’t talked title or money) I’m confident in my skills and present those skills so why in the hell have I flipped from my right side to my left side 463 times since midnight?
Not only was there the pressure of an early meeting, there was the actual pressure of falling asleep in a timely manner. As it stands I received an ihomes alarm clock for Christmas I’ve been using since, around the 26th or so. It has this great function called the “sleep” function. For those who have never had a TV that was built after 1995 in their bedroom, it allows you to set a timer to shut itself off. I decided to give this a whirl. Thirty minutes, that’s all I need right? All of the sudden I found myself wondering how much time had gone by…two minutes, ten minutes? I had no idea. And in fear of becoming less asleep I was not going to prop open and eyeball that deviously white shinny machine! As I’m sure you expected I was in fact awake when the music stopped. It was like a depressing highly un-athletic game of musical chairs, “where the music stops nobody knows.”
To no surprise of mine morning came quickly. I hit snooze once, and actually thought that action was the perfect play as I heard one of my two roommates get in the shower. Just another 9 minutes (apparently the folks of Apple can’t count to ten) of sleep, then it was up and about. It was after those measly nine minutes I met my roommate has he walked out of what appeared to be a steam room, only to say “there’s no hot water.” Looking back, I guess the right thing for him to say would have been “there’s no more hot water.”
Surprisingly I actually used this spear time, waiting for some hot water to some how be created (as if giving the boiler a ten minute rest was going to resonate gallons of piping hot water) to find out what “power” shirt I was going to wear for my big day. After all, it was just that, it was the day I was going to tell or suggest just how much I’m worth. (In dollars that is) I opted for my favorite black slacks, comfortable, stylish but not too much of either to wipe the other out. As for my shirt, it was a sleeper. One from the back of the closet I pulled from the wreckage. A strong, perfectly fitting sky blue with white lines going vertical and horizontal, a sure winner. What’s funny about this shirt is it’s from H&M and cost very little as compared to the others accompanying it in the wreckage. For those non New Yorkers H&M is like a Gap meets Gucci at Old Navy Prices. The stuff looks great for one wear, and no one ever admits it’s from H&M.
As for the shower it was cold and quite quick. Just enough lather to get the bed bugs off. As for the shave it was hot, because I had to do it in the kitchen with a pot of nearly boiling water. That’s right, me in the kitchen, my fogless mirror in hand trying to make sure I didn’t miss that spot on my right cheek bone I always seem to skip. Only in New York can you pay an arm, a leg, and usually a pint or two of blood as a security deposit for a decent and I mean just decent apartment, would something like this happen. But I’m a New Yorker baby, I did it, I made it work and I went on with my Monday. As for the meeting with my boss? It went well, but you probably figured that right? It was the sky blue shirt…
Thanks for listening
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Well, as the title suggest, this is my first time. It's my first of what I hope to be many entries. To tell you the truth there is some angst building up as I keep typing. For instance, do I have to use perfect grammar or is "online" grammar and lingo the way to go? For example do I have to use "I" instead of I, or "because" instead of b/c?
Well, as for now I am just going to wing it and hope you enjoy what you find...
This is in fact My Kind of Town. That town being New York City. I've lived here for about a year and half and I'm still loving every day more than the one before it. Take today for instance, it was cold, rainy, down right nasty and it was still was what I call consider a damn good day...
It started off later than I wanted, but after a trip to gym, I was planning on me, the NY times and a turkey sandwich from the deli to get me through the afternoon when a girlfriend (a term you will here me use often) of mine invited me to a lil hip joint down in SOHO for brunch. Sunday..Brunch...SOHO, what's more New York City than that?
As I sped by expensive shops with all-to recognizable names I realized that SOHO is in fact on of my favorite and least favorite elements of New York City. The coble stone streets, the big store windows filled with all that is new and stylish...Whether it be Italian men's suits or kitchen fixtures that look like they belong up town at the MoMa. It was just crowded enough to enjoy the streets and being in a great neighborhood. It seemed as though the rain and temperature had keep the tourist bundled up in their hotel rooms. It was like the locals knew this, like there was a secret message sent out for " only cool, unique, artsy-yet not over the top, attractive people" because that is all that seemed to be streaming the streets, and I some how got it by mistake. I even passed by Mike Myers and group of friends walking to what I can only imagine would be a cool, low key, one of a kind brunch only fitting for a master thespian who could tackle such a role as Fat Bastard.
So what's not to love about that? Well, I can't afford it...I would oh so much love to, but not quite yet. Notice I say yet...I mean I can't completely and truly hate a "club" I ultimately want to be a member of right?
As for meeting my friends, all of which happen to be a girls on this fine Sunday I managed to find the place pretty easily. It was as to be expected a stylish, dimly lit, DJ included hot spot. I was the last to arrive which is unike me because I hate when people are late. My absence did not stop the ladies from getting their first round of drinks. The cups of coffee and mimosas were already half way gone! Once I took off what seemed like a million layers, I quickly ordered a Bloody Mary to get the morning/midafternoon started.
The topics of conversation bounced from one light hearted superficial topic to the next,. Just the stuff you think would come from a table of twenty something's. We brought up the Douche Bag we all had the pleasure of meeting on Friday night (a friend of a friend's). We then moved on to the crushing words that came from one of the girl's lips that very same drunken filled evening. She went on to tell us that she "quite delicately" asked the guy she is seeing/dating/sleeping with "where are we going with this, what are we." She basically asked this guy to play the role of a Label Maker!
The sighs from the table were hilarious. There were oooohhhhss, and awwwwsss. I actually think a few came from the table of women setting next to us. The reaction from the girls was quite interesting. From one to my left came this, "well he's really busy, you have to respect that, he's got a lot going on." These words, by no surprise came from a girl who is not the most confident character in the the coup. She's beautiful, but just not as self assured as a few of the others. It was like she is so used to citing "it's me" not "it's him" routine she knows no other script. I for one actually mentioned, although the timing and diveraly, not to mention the Blood Alcohol level were not right, it seems after two months of sleeping with a guy you get the right to ask that? No?
(I find this a good time to mention that I'm looking for guy friends, I swear...too many of these brunches and I'll be trading in my Chones for Channels...)
So with my good byes and kissing of what seemed to be at least 20 cheeks, I was off to walk again though the the world of SOHO...I would stop to by Starbucks on my way home, only because I still have money left on a gift card from the parents. Like I said before, I can't afford it yet!
Thanks for listening
Well, as for now I am just going to wing it and hope you enjoy what you find...
This is in fact My Kind of Town. That town being New York City. I've lived here for about a year and half and I'm still loving every day more than the one before it. Take today for instance, it was cold, rainy, down right nasty and it was still was what I call consider a damn good day...
It started off later than I wanted, but after a trip to gym, I was planning on me, the NY times and a turkey sandwich from the deli to get me through the afternoon when a girlfriend (a term you will here me use often) of mine invited me to a lil hip joint down in SOHO for brunch. Sunday..Brunch...SOHO, what's more New York City than that?
As I sped by expensive shops with all-to recognizable names I realized that SOHO is in fact on of my favorite and least favorite elements of New York City. The coble stone streets, the big store windows filled with all that is new and stylish...Whether it be Italian men's suits or kitchen fixtures that look like they belong up town at the MoMa. It was just crowded enough to enjoy the streets and being in a great neighborhood. It seemed as though the rain and temperature had keep the tourist bundled up in their hotel rooms. It was like the locals knew this, like there was a secret message sent out for " only cool, unique, artsy-yet not over the top, attractive people" because that is all that seemed to be streaming the streets, and I some how got it by mistake. I even passed by Mike Myers and group of friends walking to what I can only imagine would be a cool, low key, one of a kind brunch only fitting for a master thespian who could tackle such a role as Fat Bastard.
So what's not to love about that? Well, I can't afford it...I would oh so much love to, but not quite yet. Notice I say yet...I mean I can't completely and truly hate a "club" I ultimately want to be a member of right?
As for meeting my friends, all of which happen to be a girls on this fine Sunday I managed to find the place pretty easily. It was as to be expected a stylish, dimly lit, DJ included hot spot. I was the last to arrive which is unike me because I hate when people are late. My absence did not stop the ladies from getting their first round of drinks. The cups of coffee and mimosas were already half way gone! Once I took off what seemed like a million layers, I quickly ordered a Bloody Mary to get the morning/midafternoon started.
The topics of conversation bounced from one light hearted superficial topic to the next,. Just the stuff you think would come from a table of twenty something's. We brought up the Douche Bag we all had the pleasure of meeting on Friday night (a friend of a friend's). We then moved on to the crushing words that came from one of the girl's lips that very same drunken filled evening. She went on to tell us that she "quite delicately" asked the guy she is seeing/dating/sleeping with "where are we going with this, what are we." She basically asked this guy to play the role of a Label Maker!
The sighs from the table were hilarious. There were oooohhhhss, and awwwwsss. I actually think a few came from the table of women setting next to us. The reaction from the girls was quite interesting. From one to my left came this, "well he's really busy, you have to respect that, he's got a lot going on." These words, by no surprise came from a girl who is not the most confident character in the the coup. She's beautiful, but just not as self assured as a few of the others. It was like she is so used to citing "it's me" not "it's him" routine she knows no other script. I for one actually mentioned, although the timing and diveraly, not to mention the Blood Alcohol level were not right, it seems after two months of sleeping with a guy you get the right to ask that? No?
(I find this a good time to mention that I'm looking for guy friends, I swear...too many of these brunches and I'll be trading in my Chones for Channels...)
So with my good byes and kissing of what seemed to be at least 20 cheeks, I was off to walk again though the the world of SOHO...I would stop to by Starbucks on my way home, only because I still have money left on a gift card from the parents. Like I said before, I can't afford it yet!
Thanks for listening
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