Trick or Treat

Yay for tonight!

Shreddin'

This is my co-worker.

Fly me to the moon

I can honestly say I'll never be able to fly like this.

Happy Hawwoween!

...a bit early. Let me share a fine example of my father's photoshop skills.



Yes. I receive hilarious masterpieces like the one above on a weekly basis. Nothin says Halloween like my mom taking a bite out of our cat.

In other news, I'm supposed to attend a few Halloween parties this weekend, one of which is a rooftop movie party. I don't really have a costume, and I'm too broke to buy cheap stuff to pull one together. Since I have a fake moustache, I'm thinking about going as Natty Boh. Ryan suggested I go as Magnum PI, Wolly Willy, or Mr. Potato Head. I'm sure the stache alone will ensure my meeting a cute dude. Guys like facial hair, right?

On Halloween itself, I'm going to see Ryan Adams at the Hammerstein ballroom. I've never been to a show there- only Columbia events. Should be a good time.

Don't even try

to mess with Boccismo!. You will lose. Last night's double header proved victorious for B!, but it did not go down without a fight.



It was the first time we played Operation: Complete Assholes (team name changed for obvious reasons). Things started off on the wrong foot, when said team didn't even acknowledge us with a handshake or an introduction. B! won the first game, and upon starting the second game, OCA's head asshole turned to our captain and said, "Do you think you could calm the fuck down, man?" Puzzled looks. More puzzled looks. Laughter- as we thought he was joking around. "No, I'm serious. You guys are completely throwing off our game by being loud and moving around. Chill the fuck out." Confused as ever, we tell this dude that clearly, HE is the one who needs to chill out because A) we are in a bar where it is loud, B) it's JUST a game, and C) there is no need to be a jerk. He didn't see it that way. For the remainder of the game (which, I might add, Boccismo! won EASILY), this dude huffed and puffed and called us all out for having a good time. Talk about a sore loser.

At the end of the game, he and his shitbag teammates continued to razzle us, claiming that we threw the game and caused them to lose. He got up in my Boccismates' faces, and things almost got physical. The sheer stupidity of this dude and his cronies was unreal. Clearly, they couldn't handle the awesomeness that is Boccismo!. Victory has NEVER been sweeter.

Shootin' from the hip

There is a deli two (avenue) blocks from my apartment called Le Bagel Delight. Lame name aside, le bagel makes- hands down- THE BEST egg sandwich I have ever had. I'm having a hard time nailing down exactly what it is about these sandwiches that makes them the best in the world. First of all, you know a place has got it goin' on when there is always, and I mean always, a crowd of people waiting. I've never had to wait longer than 5 minutes for my order- they are extremely organized, and very nice. I always order the same thing- egg whites and bacon on a whole wheat bagel. Again, I don't know what it is that makes THIS egg white/bacon/bagel combo better than any others, but it is. It just is. It's also the perfect fuel for a 22 mile bike ride, which is what I did after I treated myself to Le Bagel Delight's delight on Saturday morning. I biked from my house, across the Brooklyn Bridge, cut across lower Manhattan via Chambers St. to the West Side Highway path, up to W. 96th St., down to W. 79 St., across town to Central Park, downtown to W. 61st, back to the bike path, and home. Let's just say, my legs nearly gave out on me the second time I took the Bridge. Lots and lots of hills.

Here are some not-so-great photos, but you get the idea. Commuting sucks, but this view certainly does make it a whole lot better.

Raveny

This is pretty interesting.

And another thing

Why do people come to work sick? Seriously. I realize that not every employer is as generous with sick time as Universities, but COME ON. Ugh.

The Train of Broken Dreams

I'm the first to admit that stupid things bother me. Sometimes my neurocies get the best of me, and I end up passive-agressively calling someone out on the train, only to end up in incredible awkward silence for the remainder of the trip. Where was I? Oh yes- the Train of Broken Dreams. My commute to work is usually a little over an hour from door to door. I switch trains 3 times, so that it doesn't take 1 hour and 25 minutes. Fine. I have no problem with that. I have books and an Ipod to pass the time. What I DO have a problem with is the apparent amount of depression/sadness/insomnia that seem to grip the Q train. Every morning and evening, I am surrounded by people who hold their heads in their hands, fall asleep on me (you know the head bob/shoulder bump I'm talking about), snore, sigh/breathe loudly, and treat the subway bucket seats like Lazyboy recliners. W. T. F. WTF? Am I the only one who is bothered by this? (Yes, you are.) I feel like bringing an air horn on the train and squeezing it anytime someone's apathy gets near me. And I'm sorry, but are THAT many people really THAT tired at all times? Perhaps. Maybe the Q train is full of E.R. doctors who just finished a 26783 hour shift. Or maybe it's full of moms and dads with 8 children. Or maybe it's full of New Yorkers.

You're welcome

Lawlz

In Rainbows

First of all, if you don't have the new Radiohead, you should get it right now. You can pay whatever you like. It's also pretty great. DO IT.

Second, I've been introduced to Scrabulous, an online Scrabble game (nothing new there), but it's been taking up a good portion of my "downtime" at work. Everytime my opponent makes a move, I receive an email. I kind of suck at Scrabble, but whatever. It's fun.

Finally, I'm so glad it finally feels like Fall. My friend Alison ran the Chicago marathon last weekend, where a man DIED because of the awful weather. Everyone was forced to walk at mile 18, and she said it was absoultely horrendous. Sick people were lining the streets, and something like 350 people were hospitalized. Thanks, global warming. Thanks.

You got a purty mouth

Last night, around 10:30, Robert called me to say that he just had dinner at some chic joint on the lower east side, where he saw my future husband- Joaquin Phoenix- and his fake girlfriend (she's only for the cameras- I'm the real thing), dining. Robert has ALWAYS teased me for loving Joaquin and his scarred lip, but that hasn't stopped by love from flowing all over the place. Seriously. I mean take a look:






Mmmmmmmmm.


Robert's plan was to druken and slurringly approach my man and say, "Aren't you River Phoenix?" I kind of wish he had done it- then maybe he could have at least touched him.

If you see something, say something

I don't consider myself jaded, but I have definitely seen more out-of-the-ordinary things in the last year and a half than ever before in my life. I won't go into detail about the less-than-desirable substances I've seen/almost stepped or sat in/woken up to...you get the point. Most of the time, I just roll my eyes and remember that some people are savage, no matter how urban the setting. This morning, however, I wasn't rolling my eyes.

I caught the 1 just before the doors closed, and was able to grab a seat. I noticed the man sitting across from me was eating chips, and spilling them all over the place, staring creepily at me with each chomp. Judging by his open-mouth chewing and the glazed look on his face, I thought he might be "ill". More and more chips fell, and he finally dropped the bag and his empty coffee cup as well. Now, there is already so much trash in this city- I can't stand it when people treat the ground as a landfill. I almost said something to him about dropping his shit, when I noticed that he was totally- and I mean totally- exposed. I started to freak out a little, and then wonder if anyone else saw it. He wasn't exactly concealing it. He couldn't stop staring at every woman on the train, so I'm sure I wasn't the only uncomfortable one. Thankfully, I switched cars at the next stop, hoping to alert an MTA worker, but no one was in sight.

Here's the thing- how does one even GET there? Like, when exactly did he unzip and let loose? As soon as he sat down? How did no one else see it, or say anything? Then, when he does get off of the train, how does he put it away without anyone noticing? I suppose if he's that deranged, he's probably not concerned about anyone seeing the zip-up.

Yet another reason why I'll never raise a kid in New York City.

Good to sea

I spent the morning in Baltimore, gettin' my hair did. I've only had one haircut in New York, and it was outrageously expensive for what it was- a trim. a $100 trim. I had an appointment at Devachan last month, and I was pretty jazzed about that, but I had to cancel it at the last minute because of a gig, and I never got around to rescheduling it. So, back to Zena's I went, where I get my cut and color for the same price as my New York trim. I'll take it!

After Robert made me look like a "young Cindy Crawford" (his words; for real), I met up with Dan for a quick lunch at Thairish. (BTDubs, he's still fine has hell in case anyone was wondering. And by anyone, I mean Robert and Ashley. He has got it goin ON. Anyway...) I haven't walked around Mt. Vernon for a year and a half, so I was surprised to see some new things. A starbucks? Really??? What about Donnas? And some big building across from the big dome church on Charles St. has been torn down. Also, 900 Cathedral St. has been painted and there were no he-hos in sight. Of course, it was 11 AM. Wait a minute, that doesn't matter. I also had to stop into City Cafe for the obligatory coffee; I always really like the coffee there. And remember those cookies?? Too bad they stopped selling them a few years ago. Nakia and I would save all of our WW points for coffee and cookies at the double C. But I digress.

In spite of feeling kind of like a failure for the past few days, I know that everything happens for a reason. (Cheeseball). So, I'll get my game back up to snuff, stay as healthy as I can, lose 7 lbs, and be ready for Army Audition Reprise in a few months.

Turns out, I'm not a fatass

First things first- I didn't get the job. In fact, no one got the job. They heard 3 singers and hired none. Oh, and it took all. day.

Thanks to my cold, I couldn't muster up a pleasant-sounding high e, so I sang the Mozart Allelujah instead. Wise choice, I thought, since it has a high c (I rocked it), and lots of coloratura. I sang the prepared pieces fine, nailed the sightreading (I'm modest, really), and the interview was short and sweet. So why wasn't I offered the job? Apparently, they are looking for a pretty specific sound. I knew that this would be the determining factor- this is an ensemble, not a solo gig. Do I think I have the right sound? Yes. Did being sick possibly screw me? Yes. Will I get another shot? I think so. Time will tell...

I had a good cry after I got home, then picked myself up and reminded myself that it's all part of the profession. I audition for a lot of things, all the time. I am not easily discouraged, and I don't give up. But dammit if it isn't terribly frustrating. I'm preaching to the choir.

Oh, and it turns out I wouldn't have had to lose any weight after all. I'm right on target.

She fell in love with the drummer

Another then another.


I've had my fair share of experience with those who keep the rhythm, and let me tell you- it is NOT a bad thing. Not a bad thing at all. Also, this is funny.

Wishing you success

First and foremost, I'd like to direct your attention to Boccismo!'s blog- you'll find the link to the right- as it has been recently updated by our Captain. We killed the Readers last night, which totally made up for last week's loss against the Daddios. The Daddios and the Slope Dads remain our favorite teams on the league, so even though we lost in the 2-hour-game end, it was with grace.

In other news, I'm still feeling like crap, but whatever- I'll sing through it. Thank you for your well-wishes and bits of encouragement. I have no idea what will happen, but I intend to do my best. It's funny how life changes prompt nostalgia. Recently, I emailed a friend with whom I have lost contact. We used to be very close; we spoke frequently, visited each other (as we live in different parts of the country), and dished about WVU football. Over the past few years, communication between us came to a standstill. After several failed attempts, I began to realize that I was losing this friend- and now I realize, I've lost him. I can only say that I am disappointed and hurt, and don't fully understand why a 9 year friendship has been put to rest, but I suppose the heart is a lonley hunter.

Moving forward with my life, I wish YOU all the best, G. I hope you're happy.

This city is sick

Really. Just about everyone I know is ill, or has been ill recently. The subway is a hotbed of germs, fueled by jerks who don't cover mouths when sneezing/coughing. I have an annoying headcold that refuses to go away, and now I've developed a nice little cough. Normally, I could really care less- a cold's a cold. However, my audition for the Army is 2 days away, and my high e's are not very pretty. This is not good.

I'm trying to stay as positive as I can- I'm partly convinced that's why the cold isn't worse. Nonetheless, my Flonase/mucinex/Theraflu cocktail isn't speeding along the recovery. The show must go on- so come Wednesday, I'll give it everything I've got while looking fabulous. That's gotta count for SOMEthing.