Happy Holidays.... or Merry Christmas... or just enjoy the day off

So the holidays are here.... Great. Tomorrow, I'm flying here to see my grandparents. I have to say, I'm looking forward to getting out of the city for a while. The last time I left, I went to D.C. for the day and was sick the entire time. I'll be out of town until Wednesday, a significant amount of time away from work and this city. But I have to say, I'm just not in the holiday spirit this year.

It always happens to me every year: Christmas sort of sneaks up on me while I'm not looking and by the time I take notice, it's a new year and new projects at work and the cycle starts all over again. One of my favorite things about Christmas used to be cutting down a REAL Christmas tree every year. Not only would I NEVER allow a fake tree in the house, I also had to make sure we cut it down fresh.

UPDATE: I'm back from the grandparents'. I like how earlier (last week) I commented that I wanted to get out of the city for a while. Put it this way: I should have stayed in the city. Between airport delays, grumpy family members, and the non-stop eating that apparently happens everywhere but New York, I'm not exactly pleased with the trip. Plus you always hear about "Christmas in New York", but who really stays here for the actual holiday? Most people are gone until after New Years; I'm sitting in my mostly empty office this week wondering why I'm not off.

Time for a change

I really couldn't stand my layout anymore, so i changed it to this. I'm into it; it's green, it's serene, and (one more thing that rhymes with green.... think, dammit) it's...... mean? Whatever, hope you like this layout. This will have to suffice until I can get my "good friend Frank" to cave and design something really cool for me.

"Noonan" syndrome

Before you all go ahead and accuse me of making this one up, or tell me that "Yeah, I've heard of Noonan syndrome... it's when you get black-out drunk.", there is in fact a Noonan syndrome. And apparently, it's quite debilitating.

Noonan syndrome is a genetic disorder that effects the growth of body parts in children. Symptoms include "webbing of the neck" as well as "different shapes of the chest".

I'm not quite sure (that's not true, I just found out: Jacqueline Noonan.. helps if you read the Wikipedia entry) how my last name became synonymous with some horrible, debilitating disease (and I'm sure that one of you out there will spend more time researching this than I did on Friday afternoon). Apparently, 1 in every 2,500 kids will be born with NS, or Noonan syndrome.

I think after reading about Noonan syndrome, I'd much rather prefer the disease to be "ability to become black-out drunk" rather than what it is now. Then again, neither of those are really that great. I think I'll discover Paul Noonan syndrome, where an individual is incredibly handsome, smart, funny, and above all, has a good heart..... Think it will catch on?

Weekend Update

This is what I did last night and these are the people I met.

So I'm 25 now

And I guess I'm supposed to grow up at some point.

I can rent a car now. I can still legally drink. What else comes with 25? A co-worker informed me that this is the last year that "you can still act like a jackass and get drunk a lot." Apparently, at 26, you start realizing that you're getting old and need to "settle down" and find the right girl. Does that mean my tastes in women is going to completely change next year? Have I been looking for the "wrong" girl? I suppose that as you get older, the need to settle down becomes stronger. Just not at the top of my list right now, though, spending some more time with the fairer sex would be a start.

So far, 25 has brought the following with it:
1) raging hangover
2) the flu (still planning on going out tonight, though)
3) freezing cold
4) rapid depletion of my bank account

Oh, and, only 5 more years until I'm 30. I should have appreciated 24 more when it was still around.

There's no title that fits this

I was walking through the HEET turnstile last night in the Times Square station heading home. This lady was headed out of the subway up to the street. I figured she'd wait as I had this expression on my face that probably said "You better wait or I'll hurt you". Instead of waiting, she grabs one of the bars on the turnstile (mind you, I'm speaking of the ones that are floor to ceiling height and are not "jumpable), attempts to walk through the turnstile ON THE OTHER SIDE as I walk through entering the subway. Stop and think about this for a minute. She tried to walk through the side that has corresponding, parallel bars which prevent people from going through the turnstile on that side. (Picture for reference.)


See those things on the left? The prohibitive bars that if you try to walk into, will stop you, dead in your tracks? So as I'm walking through, she attempts her magic, only to get her hand pinched in between the two sets of bars, to which she exclaims "ow, damn, oh.... you can't go that way". No, no you can't go that way, moron. There are large metal bars that, short of having "You can't go this way" printed on them, pretty much SCREAM out, "You can't go this way."

Are you new to life?

I really hate to do this....

... but this is going to be a post about things I HATE!.

1) attitude from co-workers (none of those who read this, don' t worry).
2) other people doing my job (relax people, I do, in fact, know what I'm doing).
3) the fact that it has yet to get above 40 degrees today.
4) the complete lack of room in my freezer (you'd think with 3 guys living in one apartment, we'd have no food at all, ever.... not so in the BPC).
5) people who follow up on tasks (not just at work) just so they can say "well, I followed up, so that's that...". Work still continues regardless of your ability to "follow up" which basically consists of annoying the crap out of the person actually doing the project (again, not work specific).
6) this haircut I got today from this place. (don't let the French name fool you; I look like a 10 year old boy now).

Alright, enough of that. Some cool things going on:

7) anything that has to do with this blog or any of these blogs.
8) taking a co-worker/friend's name that ends in "ey" and making it end in "ette" (for instance, someone named "Audrey" would become "Audrette")
9) meeting new people, in general.
10) 7 days smoke free!
11) going to the gym tonight to work out aggression from #'s 1-6 above.
12) headed to Outer Banks for Christmas to see my grandparents (not sure if this is good or bad, but good for now.)


Anyway, just as many good things as bad. Hopefully this week gets a little better.

All-consuming panic

I don't know what my deal is these past few days. Being awake at 5 a.m. on a Saturday is probably a good indicator of what I feel like right now. I wound up having one of these types of Fridays again. Let's recap the past 24 hours, just in case you weren't bored enough.

-went to work where I spent entirely too much time writing a survey for this page (please take the survey) and then battling with a designer to get the thing to launch "on activity" as a pop-under (only in IE; Firefox displays it as a pop-up). spent some time in an interesting conversation at work throughout the day (clearly much better than exercising my java script skills) with a friend.

-in the middle of all that above, we had somewhat of an impromptu pizza party at work where everyone had to go around and introduce themselves, state their position, how long they've been with the company, where they were prior to this place, where they were born, and what song they would sing if they were playing "I'm going to kill you unless you sing karaoke". (for what it's worth, I would sing this.)

-went home at 5:45 after getting the pop-under and cookie to work after 5 hours of screwing around with the thing and ordered some Chinese food. (seeing as I'm broke and it was time to pay the rent yesterday, I stayed in, watched a movie/passed out around 10:30, which is why I'm up now, at 5:11 a.m.)

Back to the title of the post. I'm not sure what the hell is going on, but as I woke up a few minutes ago, I had this feeling of sheer terror running through me. I think it might have something to do with the cheap Chinese food I ate last night, but I'm really having a hard time sleeping lately. I woke up yesterday morning to find I had removed my shirt, for some reason, in my sleep. That's clearly no reason to panic but strange crap is going on when I shut down. On more than several occasions, I've had that falling dream, when you wake up as you hit the ground and you feel like you just plummeted several hundred feet only to land on your mattress.

I keep getting the feeling that I'm being haunted. Not in the creepy ghost way (man, that would freak me out) but in the "remember when" way. Like "remember when you lived in Brooklyn and hated it because your apartment was a shit-hole?" to which I follow with "and now you miss it because you live in a soul-less neighborhood in Manhattan"? Or "remember when your company paid for 100 people to go to Puerto Rico for a week and get wasted and how much simpler your life was then"? (no need to follow up on that one).

Point is, through all this rambling muck, I've got to snap out of this funk. I'll be turning 25 soon, I suppose that has me down a bit. But it's not like I can help turning 25. Plus, as people keep telling me when I tell them I'm going to be 25, it's not like I'm turning 40. You're still young, Noonan, start acting like it! (that's the point in the post where I resort to talking to myself as an authority figure..... ). Now I think I'll try and get some sleep... or I'll stay up and panic some more.

The Art of Blogging

Before I start my comment for the day, I have to let you all know that I've been "spotted" on Technorati. I have to say, I was quite proud to claim "Noonan" as my own, and I thank my friends for their linking that more than likely put me on Technorati.

Back to the post at hand. My recent foray back into blogging has lead me to the conclusion that these posts take time to craft (as well they should). This one saves drafts, even saves them for another day. I agree with the process she's got going on here, but I find myself impatient. I think this has a lot to do with how and where I post. I'm currently sitting in my cube at work, waiting to go to a meeting which probably won't have much to do with me and thus feel rushed to get this thing done before the meeting begins. Other posts are done from home, thus allowing me the time to sit there for 2 or 3 hours and think about what I should write, how I should write it, if I should stop writing, etc.

Maybe there's something to be said for publishing on the fly. Perhaps it's like free-association blogging. The first thing that pops into my head is what you'll all be reading (all 5 of you who come here... that includes people from work).

List of what's going on right now:
1) dinner party at my place last night; by all accounts, a bust
2) meeting upstairs in 30; get ready
3) thinking about going to the gym after work
4) wishing there was more to eat in my apartment other than peanut butter and jelly
5) realizing it's Thursday already
6) getting ready for my weekend

Have you ever noticed...

...how much I suck at posting on this thing on a consistent basis?

...how when you're waiting to cross the street in Midtown, and have a red light, those coming from your left/right will walk right into you as if you don't exist as they have a white walk light?

...how you can talk to someone for a few hours and have it feel like 10 minutes?

...how meetings get called at work, and the substantive conclusion of the meeting is that you'll meet again in a week to see how much more you've accomplished since this initial meeting, which, in effect, is keeping you from finishing a project?

...how, sometimes, if you leave something you "must do' for a week or so, it suddenly is forgotten about by the person who said "you must do this"?

...how hard it is to keep a list like this going, but you're committed to keeping it going, so you'll write an item that speaks to the fact that you're making a list on your blog?

...how people FIGHT on a subway for a seat, when in reality, they're getting off at the next stop which is no more than 5 minutes away?

...how friends/acquaintances/more than friends can turn into haunting memories within 6 months of meeting them?

...how much these guys rock?

...how great this bar is?

...how I keep playing the guitar with no hopes of getting any better but keep doing it because I enjoy living in some sort of alter reality where I can play the guitar?

...how what people write is a great way to pass the time?

...how long that took me to link?

...how every word in the item above the one before this is a link?

...how big of a freaking nerd I am for doing that?

...how tough it is to actually ask a girl out on a date in New York?

...how you can completely dive in at work and not come up for air for a solid week?

...that it's time for this list to end?

Some holiday comments and a general note

Thanksgiving was a good time this year. I stayed with my father as my mom was out of town (parents are divorced.) We did the whole "deep fry your turkey" thing, which turned out great. It's pretty healthy for you as all the fat melts away and it tastes great. Best part is that it only took about an hour and 15 minutes to cook the bird. Just enough time for me to down about 5 beers with my dad and grandfather outside. 3 generations of Noonan men, bonding over a turkey in a bucket of oil. Class act, indeed.

I came back to the city on Friday, partly because I was bored at home, but mostly because I had things to do. The rest of the weekend was good. I went to two concerts and had a nice time not being at work.

I started reading my archives tonight, looking back on what I've ranted on and on about since April. One particular quote from this post:

"You have the friends you do at present for a reason: they're accessible, they don't suck that much (most of the time), or you're hooking up with one of them and she's hot."

Yeah, I thought it was pretty good then too.

Anyway, I know I don't post nearly as much as this one does nor do I have as much to say as she does (yes, Audrey, I linked to you twice), but I enjoy this collection of thoughts I've managed to keep. Not 7 months ago, I started this thing thinking I'd probably only post once or twice. But, turns out, I've posted quite a bit and it's all good stuff. Best part is remembering the day you wrote it or even the reason why you wrote the post. So read my archives, if you're bored or if you're really interested in what I'm all about.

5 or 6

A few hours ago, I started watching this (I'm still watching it) and this memory came over me out of the blue. The memory is from when I was quite young, perhaps around 5 or 6 years old, on my way to school, which I absolutely hated. I used to beg my mom not to take me everyday. I hated walking in; I hated the first hour everyday. I remember what the house looks like across from my school. It had this weird red fence that used to piss me off; I definitely remember being pissed off at that fence.

One day I went to school and I remember being pretty happy. The weekend prior to this day, my mom bought me a new pair of sneakers. I thought they were the coolest sneakers and remember when I got them, I ran around in the mall, reporting back to my mom that "these ones run and jump really good, mom. thanks for buying them for me." Looking back, I remember thinking that it was the shoes that made me run and jump "really good" and couldn't possibly have anything to do with the person (me) wearing the shoes.

Anyway, for some reason, this memory came flying back into my head and I got very nostalgic for these sneakers. I find as I get older, I try sometimes to remember/revert back to when I was younger. Point is, I just spent about 2 hours on the Internet searching for these sneakers. At this point, they're "classics". Have a look: Reebok's. This version is not quite as I remember, but is pretty damn close. The pair I had when i was 5 or 6 were all canvas but the color schemes/design is pretty similar to this pair at JC Penney (honestly, I couldn't find them anywhere else).

This entire search makes me think back to the simpler days, when I was 5 or 6, and had sneakers that "ran and jumped" really good. The mall where my mom got these shoes no longer exists. It's too bad, really; there was an Orange Julius at this mall that had really good hot dogs and I guess you'd call it orange juice. (Their site now insists they offer smoothies and other crap, but back in 1986, smoothies didn't exist, shithead.) I'm not sure if it's completely ridiculous to buy a pair of shoes that remind of when you were 6 but I sure as hell would rather be reminded of when I was 6 than reminding myself that I'm almost 25.

What's this guy's problem?

I'm going to have a hard time properly masking the true identity of this individual but I'm pretty much being forced to rant about him because he's pissing me off. Everyday, this guy (I won't say "at work" but you get the idea) gets on the phone, on speaker, and basically screams at the top of his lungs at people. He's not mad at all; he's just weird.

And he'll do things like "hey John, you on the call? John? JOHN?!?!?" and then you'll hear John respond "Yeah, I'm here...." just waiting for this guy to stop yelling. Here are a few reasons why this annoys the piss out of me:

1) I have NOTHING to do with what this person does all day, either on the phone or off.
2) I want NOTHING to do with what they do, yet I overhear these calls everyday, so I could at any point in time, jump on this project like I was part of it since day one. (I even here about cost implications, etc. which just shouldn't be broadcast around an office.... or where ever it is I'm talking about).
3) I can't function on what I need to do. I'm in media research. I don't spend the entire day on the phone. I spend most of my day looking at numbers and interpreting them for people who can't be bothered looking at numbers. So this phone call going on in the background just screws up my flow, so to speak.

I'm not saying this person is a bad person; I'd surely hope he's not as he sits 15 feet from me. But I could do without the personal/private and/or business phone calls going on.... SEE, RIGHT THERE, the noise from the call just completely made me lose my train of thought....

Well, there ya go...

My attempt to post on this thing regularly has clearly failed. Last week, my site meter report told me that 8 people had visited this page in a week. "Well, there ya go...", everyone lost interest. Whatever, your loss.... because I'm posting now, and you're probably going to miss out on it... sucker.

What's going on lately? Oh, right, Halloween. I'm not bitter about this "holiday" at all. Don't get me wrong: I love an excuse to be someone you're not as much as the next guy. Maybe I lost that creative spirit somewhere along the way. Maybe it's a holiday for children, and not 24 year old guys. I remember as a kid, I was a vampire a lot.... I wore this Frankenstein mask a few years in a row too (didn't fit me the last year; had to pull it over my over-sized head). The last few years of college, I "dressed up" as a "preppy" white guy.... The joke there was that I guess I always dressed like that.... Yeah, it got a few chuckles, that was about it.

So this year, I'm doing the same thing as last year: nothing. Given that I live in Battery Park City, where there are more strollers than people who can actually walk on their own, there was a sign-up sheet in my building for "trick-or-treat friendly" apartments. You better believe neither one of my roommates signed us up for that duty. I gladly joined them in the ranks of "trick-or-treat UN-friendly" people. I'm not some guy who hates kids. I think little kids are great.... for other people. They smile and do "cute" things all the time, and that's great, and hell, sometimes I even smile watching these displays. But the thing about little kids is that right after they smile or laugh or do something cool, they SCREAM AT THE TOP OF THEIR LUNGS on a crowded subway when I left my iPod at home and can't drown the little bastard out. Not related to Halloween at all.... oh well.

Anyway, for everyone going out this year for Halloween, I hope you enjoy yourselves. I've heard that ending up in the East Village, alone, and pissed is not the way to go..... (It's really amazing how my brain only functions in 2-hour time frames...) So if you avoid the pit of the East Village, manage to surround yourself with a friend or two (hell, just walk close to someone on the sidewalk), and are not really freaking mad about something, you too shall have a good time.... Or so it's been said.

Google Acquires YouTube; Noonan's still middle-class

I'm in a suit today. No, not a lawsuit, though that might be more exciting than wearing this tie all day. I'm headed to a meeting downtown, at the new Google office building, and I specify "building" as I won't actually be meeting in the Google office. But I plan to stop by and eat their food.

I think they could probably spare it at this point given the monumental deal that went through yesterday, where Google formally acquired YouTube. I believe the total price came out to be $1.65 billion. Wrapping my mind around this figure gives me a bit of a headache. I don't know much about M&A deals, but my thoughts would lead me to believe a company would have to show some type of profit before being acquired, letting the potential acquire-er know that there's money to be made. These days, it seems like any start-up who gets enough PR buzz around them shows potential. Admittedly, there is great potential for Google to monetize YouTube with pre-roll video ads, where a 15-30 second ad would run prior to the video. So I wouldn't say that the deal is a bust by any means.

So I think if Google can afford YouTube at $1.65 billion, then I'm sure they won't miss a) any food I happen to grab 0n my way out or b) one of those neat scooters they have to transport themselves down the long halls in this new office.

Lazy Fridays

Keeping with my theme of writing about nothing, I decided to post about my Friday night routine. I thought this was purely a Brooklyn thing, but the routine stuck with me during my move to Manhattan. Here goes:

1) Get off train and walk to pizza place.
2) Get two slices to go.
3) Head to the elevator in my building thinking "I'm looking forward to staying in tonight."
4) Watch several saved shows on my DVR that I missed during the week (Cable is a virtue.)
5) Head to my bed for a "nap."
6) Wake up around 10:30 thinking "crap, I can't go to bed yet."
7) Feel bad about staying in on a Friday.
8) Wake up entirely too early on Saturday morning and do something like "Go to the gym" or "Get an early start to the day". (NOT a Saturday thing to do)

So you can see how tomorrow will go already. Great day at work. Oh, and I'm getting a Blackberry for work so I can be in touch ALL THE TIME. Surprisingly, I asked for the thing, not to be "cool" because those aren't cool anymore. I have this problem where I like my job and I want to be available for trouble-shooting, research requests, etc. I'm looking forward to my new connectivity. Who knows, maybe blogger will roll-out a Blackberry version.

Actually Using the NYSC Membership

Today marks a turning point, which I may or may not have blogged about in the past, where I get up early and go to the gym. I spend probably more than I'd like to admit on a gym membership every month and by the end of the month, I can count on two hands how many times I actually went to the gym. Clearly, it looks like a waste of time.

I decided last night to get more serious about the gym, losing weight, feeling better about myself, etc. So this morning I got up at 5:45 and headed over to the Battery Park City NYSC. This outpost usually isn't too crowded. It's not, however, the typical NYSC, crawling with young professionals just trying to squeeze in 30 minutes of cardio before a 12 hour work day. The BPC location is usually filled with middle-aged folks trying to get in shape or the occasional "I live in Jersey and commute in early to get my workout done before work" person. I did my 25 minutes on the elliptical and then some "vertical presses", "overhead presses" and this other thing that supposedly works your back. I have to say, I'm feeling the burn. Let's hope I can make this a pretty regular routine.

The only aspect that I don't enjoy about the BPC NYSC (acronyms are great) is the commuting individual who treats the gym as his/her own home gym. There's a pretty set standard at the New York Sports Club concerning the amount of time you're permitted on a cardio device (treadmill, elliptical, etc.) when others are waiting. These select few feel it is there duty to make someone wait longer than the posted 30 minute courtesy time on the device. I'm not sure why it is that only the commuters don't really understand the concept, but needless to say, it's getting annoying. I had to wait about 10 minutes today for an elliptical as they were full when I arrived. The one person who should have been done long before the others was easily a commuter as he had his gym bag next to him on the ground (stuffed full with some suit more than likely). Most normal people go to the gym first, then return home to shower, then head to work. (Okay, maybe that's not fair, but I think that's what you should do.) So after shooting a few looks like "Hey man, someone's waiting", the woman next to him finally looked over at me, smiled, and said "Don't worry, I'm almost done." Once she left, I got started and didn't hesitate to turn my head 90 degrees to the left to make sure commuter-jackass was aware of my presence. My look conveyed something along the lines of "Yeah, I'm the guy who was waiting, jerk."

Although I seem to have had a hard time at first, I look forward to maintaining this routine, regardless of the other "users" who might arrive early and throw their weight around (pun intended).

Yom Kippur

This holiday, as I understand from my Jewish friends and co-workers, allows one to atone for their sins. We Christians are pretty familiar with sins, regrets, and for those Catholics out there, repenting for your sins. However, I think our Jewish friends have a better idea going on.

Atonement comes right after the start of the Jewish New Year. And, from what I understand, it only comes once a year. This is great. Most Catholics are required to confess their sins on a regular basis. Being Lutheran, I've never actually had to confess, but I've thought about going, just to clear my head for all the "sins" I commit. My Catholic friends advise me that confession is no spring break. So this brings me back to the Jewish idea of atoning once a year. It's fantastic. Imagine going out 364 days a year and living it up, knowing that it's only going to cost you one day out of the year to make up for it.

Of course the last time I set foot in a house of worship (outside of a funeral or wedding) was about 5 years ago when my mom decided we needed to go to church on Christmas. While the rafters did not, in fact, catch fire causing the building to collapse, I felt like a big faker. I'm sure anyone who attends church regularly doesn't like my kind at all. So I doubt I'd be welcome at temple on the day of atonement.

A renewed sense of creativity

Maybe the title of this post is a bit over the edge, but I'm really trying to stay true to writing a post to my blog, at least daily. I'm not sure what type of value I'll be adding for my readers, but writing in this thing allows me to vent my anger, which as any of you who know me know, I have a lot of. (Try and diagram that sentence, bitch.)

This weekend was pretty low-key for me. I spent the entire week prior to the weekend out everynight at a work function as my boss was in town. Monday - margaritas; Tuesday - happy hour with my old job; Wednesday - out with a vendor; Thursday - out with the boss and the marketing team; Friday - out for Audrey's birthday and Jess' friends party. So Saturday, I got some pizza at Lombardi's. Today I watched football, did laundry, fell asleep at weird times during the day, and now writing in my blog. I also trekked uptown to Blondie's for some wings to watch with football. Too far of a trek. Next time, I'll have to find somewhere to deliver wings.

One of the best parts of this week came Thursday morning. I assumed I'd be sober enough to get in the shower and get to work. I was right. But when I got home Thursday night, I realized that there was a strange phone number scrawled on a post-it note on my desk. I assumed it came from my suit pocket from Wednesday night. I've yet to get up the nerve and call because I really don't remember who it could be. Many of my exploits recently have featured a high level of beer and on Wednesday, a few Jager shots. So I'm not too sure of the caliber of phone number I'd be able to pick up in that state (not that I do this sort of thing ever anyway).

Perhaps if you post comments saying whether or not I should call this number, I'll tally the votes and decide based on that.

Marching Bands of Manhattan

So this past weekend marks my official move to the "city", because as I've been told, you can't say you live in the "city" until you physically live on the isle of Manhattan. I'm now the proud renter of a room in a 3-bedroom place in Battery Park City.

I really did not enjoy the move from Brooklyn as my father spent most of the time convincing me that my furniture/bed would not fall out the back of his truck, where it lay, without being strapped down, as we catapulted through the Battery Tunnel several times. He's got this way of being right a lot. Must be where I get it from...

The only slight "hiccup" thus far came Saturday night/Sunday morning as I awoke at 5 am to the sound of my Irish almost-roommate (she leaves in October) screaming "woo hoooooooo" at the top of her lungs. I didn't mind the late arrival really, as it was Saturday and I was out til 330 myself. But, my mom was coming the next day and I really couldn't sleep until noon like I wanted to. So I went to "get a glass of water" and was spotted by the partying Irish. "Have a beer, screw that water!" "Come sit down with us, it's early!" to which I responded "Wish I could, mom's coming..... need to sleep." "That sucks! We'll keep it down." First potential confrontation was handled very well and there was no issue at all.

Coming from living on my own in Brooklyn to sharing an apartment with 2 other people shall be quite the adjustment. However, so far, so good and I'm looking forward to getting to know these new people. Now that I'm officially a "city-dweller", I don't want to hear any crap about hanging out: "Dude, Brooklyn is far." "Why would I risk getting shot to come out to Park Slope?" I welcome any and all visitors.

An Unfortunate Choice

I took a "summer Friday" last week which is essentially not showing up on Friday during the summer because nobody else is at work anyway. I decided to spend some of the day sleeping which was great and then spent another portion of the day at the movie theater. I'd been planning to see World Trade Center for some time now, mostly because, as a New Yorker, I wanted to see how the "story" would be told. The reality is that Oliver Stone, and anyone else who attempts to recount this day, is screwed from the get-go; there is no way to recreate that day (in my opinion) without doing the victims and their families a great dis-service. (As an aside, I think the only "proper" way to tell this story would be to donate 100% of the proceeds to a 9/11 memorial fund.)

I sat down for the movie about 10 minutes early and was already starting to have second thoughts about this. I showed up alone and was taking in the atmosphere in the theater. One couple was reading the paper, another was quietly talking about something. Needless to say, at 12:15 pm on a Friday, the theater was pretty empty.

The movie began and the entire time, literally from when I walked into the theater until about 2 hours after the movie ended, I felt sick. I guess I came to the conclusion that not enough time had passed, in my opinion, to make a movie about 9/11. Stone managed to include very brief clips of actual footage from the day, which had the effect of scaring the shit out of me and bringing back that sinking feeling. I guess some background is in order: my mother worked 1 block from the WTC. My hardest memories of the day were that I could not get in touch with my mom until about 9 pm that night. I admit, I'm lucky, and so is she, and so is everyone who survived that day, regardless of where you were. But sitting in that theater, watching the footage, "experiencing" that day all over again brought back the same feeling I had that day. I can't help but imagine what folks who lost someone must feel when they see these commercials or maybe see the movie.

Needless to say, I walked away with swollen eyes and a very nauseous feeling. I'm angry that the story focused on two people who survived and barely made mention of all those who did not. What about all the families that were waiting to hear something about a loved-one but never did? How about telling their stories, no matter how heart-breaking. Maybe middle-America needs to hear those stories to get it.

I don't really know if I recommend seeing this movie. It is important to remember that day and the story of survival is always "nice" to hear. But maybe we need 5 more years before we can see something like this. Maybe we need 20 more years.

Sugar Sweet (hold on, I have to throw up) Sunshine

So today was a good time. I set out to get a haircut (never happened. As an aside, I now look like Don King when I wake up in the morning), hit the Greenmarket at Union Square, and just walk around the Loser I mean Lower East Side (ha, I have to hit hard as a soon-to-be resident of the "Lower West Side"). Anyway, I remembered on my way into the city on the F that Sugar Sweet Sunshine is on Rivington. I went there about a month ago and they, admittedly, have some really amazing cupcakes. That's right, Manhattan's hottest trend is now Noonan's downfall.

I visited Magnolia (I'd link to them but they don't have a website) about 4 months ago (with the same friend I went to Sugar Sweet Sunshine with, Robyn, also known as "BS") and was not so impressed. First of all, there's a line outside of Magnolia and some undereducated fool who "counts" the number of people in the bakery and decides how many more may enter. Secondly, you must actually physically pick out your own cupcakes and place them in a box. As most of us have never worked in a bakery, you quickly realize that you're getting frosting everywhere, usually your hands, shirt, shoes, the person next to you... It was a nightmare and then when I actually tasted one of these sonsabitches, they were dry and just suck.

My visit to Sugar Sweet was a much better experience, at least the first time around. BS and I walked in to an empty bakery, a case filled with cupcakes with names like "Sunshine" and "Ooey Gooey". I ordered from the man behind the case and let him handle well, the handling of the cupcakes. Everything went smoothly and the taste was perfect. The cake was moist and the frosting flavorful, not just sweet. The first time was fantastic. Fast-forward to today. I have a bag of "sour cherries" (I didn't realize how different these are from other cherries), a bag of peaches (took about 10 solid minutes of picking through a huge bin to find ones up to par), and my umbrella in hand. I hit up Sugar Sweet, with the intention of grabbing some cakes, taking them back to Brooklyn, and eating them. Smooth transaction, same guy as last time, what could go wrong?

Well, here's the deal. These mother-father's should come with a disclaimer: "Do not consume more than one of these confections in a 24-hour period for if you do, your stomach will turn to Candy Land and you will vomit for hours". I don't know what's going on. I can consume sugar, chocolate, cake, ice cream, all that stuff with the best of them. Granted, I'm not exactly a 28 waist but I'm not pushing the 38 category either. I should be able to handle more than one of these cupcakes; I am man, hear me roar and eat pastel frosted cakes! Yeah, two hours later, hear me vomit. This post is to function as a warning to all you "hipsters", "frat-guys", "hipsters who are too hip to be called "hipster"", and the rest of you new yorkers. Do NOT consume more than one Sugar Sweet Sunshine cupcake in 24 hours. The taste is phenomenal, but more than one will set off a chain of events that should never follow consumption, mainly the "de-consumption" of food.

Tomorrow, I'm getting my hair cut.

60 years of marriage

I attended my grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary party yesterday on Long Island. The day started early for me as I had to get all the way out to Smithtown by 11 am via LIRR. As the train pulled into the station, I started to think about all the times I've been to their house in my life. When I was much younger I remember going there with my dad for Christmas and various times during the summer months. Their house seemed massive to me then and always had that "home" smell to it. Needless to say, I was really excited to go back and see them and have a nice party.

My grandmother did most of the cooking but hired a lady to help her in the kitchen. They also hired a pianist (Tom Smith, who was really great) to play for a few hours during the party. This being a Noonan affair, we had a full bar set up outside with plenty of Heineken on ice as well.

The party was going well by mid-afternoon. Many of my grandparents' life long friends were showing up and I was finally putting faces to all the names I've heard throughout the years in various stories that I've heard 5 or 6 times already. Cousins I never knew I had showed up, and it was great to meet them as well.

I'd say the highlight of the event though was my grandfather taking the microphone and singing to my grandmother. My grandfather used to perform in the 40's and 50's at clubs in New York as a "great Irish singer". I have to say, at 80 some years old, he's still got it. My grandmother was embarrassed at first, but then joined him and began to sing along as the Tom Smith played some really great old song that only the older folks knew.

I have to say, I had a great time at my grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary. It's absolutely incredible that they've been married for 60 years and what's more incredible is that they're the happiest people I know. I've never seen them fight and they're always out and about, doing things together, being happy, enjoying retirement. We should all be so lucky to have someone to share our lives with for 60 years.

Being a kid

I was walking home from the subway last night and began to think about what it was like to be a kid. I know everyone does that, some more than others. This particular incident was based around Christmas time and how my mother always made really great cookies and fudge every Christmas. She used to put this amazing Christmas music on and I would sit in front of the stereo just hanging out, eating cookies.

I think I was all of 5 years old, but this memory stands out in my head. We had a pretty big "stereo" which had 2 tape decks and 1 turntable on the top. I remember that the tape deck on the left could record, so all the buttons were in red, while the one on the right could only play, and the buttons were blue. Also, you had to hold down both the "play" and "record" buttons on the red-buttoned deck to get it to record. I never understood why you needed both. By the time I was born, the turntable was broken, but I always tried to figure out how to play a vinyl record without the belt that made the turntable turn.

This isn't really going anywhere other than sometimes, a specific memory stands out so vividly in your mind that you remember every specific detail about the situation. I remember the color carpet on the floor (beige), the song that I liked the most ("Silver Bells") and even what time of day it was (afternoon, but snowing, so it was darker out). Point is, in my daily life now, I hardly notice anything that's not directly related to something that I do everyday. As a kid, you notice everything, you take it all in, and you remember what you want. It seems as adults, we lose that capability and just have a tunnel vision approach to everything. It would be nice to be a kid again and take it all in. Of course, with my luck, while I was taking it all in, I'd probably be struck by that bus screaming down 7th Ave because I'm too busy "noticing" things.....

What it's all about

I've recently had reason to start taking stock in my life and paying attention to things and people around me. This is not to say that I've never had reason, but let's just say that I've started listening more. That said, I've begun to look around, at people, places, things, experiences and have tried to place these all in their own spaces in my life. If you try and take a larger, macro-view of your life all at once, it's likely you'll be overwhelmed. So we categorize all the pieces and stack or pile them in place, usually chronologically, with the hopes that at any given time when we want to revisit that experience or feeling gained from the experience, it's right there in our memories, like a card catalogue.

Wouldn't it be amazing if that concept actually worked? Say you had a particularly great time one day doing something really cool. You could just scroll back in your mind and practically re-live the entire experience all over again. This is probably why we take pictures or recount stories with others: so we can continue to tell ourselves what a great time that was or look at a picture and try and bring back the feeling we had that day. Maybe this works for some of you, but I've lost that ability.

I've been thinking a lot lately about my life just a few months ago. I had started my current job and had been there just long enough to start making some great friends. We'd all just returned from a trip to Puerto Rico, on Mr. Dow and things were just going great. Now, I'm not saying that things aren't going great now; they are. But I've come to the conclusion, looking back on this period of my life, which really just happened, that things aren't the same. No single moment in time or experience is ever the same as the one before it or the one right after it. They're all different, some with different people, some in different places. I'd be lying if I said I'm not sad about the fact that I'm unable to transport myself back, even if only in my memory, to these various points of time in my life.

I guess my point to all this rambling here is that you've really got to enjoy what's going on while it's happening. Your memories are amazing and one day will prove extremely valuable, usually a day when you're not trying to conjure up that first kiss or the feeling of getting a new apartment, whatever the exciting time may be. So enjoy it all now. It may be that tomorrow is just as good or better, but there's no use hoping for that tomorrow. Enjoy today. Enjoy your friends. Enjoy the people you love and enjoy their love. Take everything as it comes to you and make the best out of it. Surely, there are amazing times ahead, and we've all had amazing times in the past. Everything should be an amazing time. That's what it's all about for me.

What's the deal with me and this city?

It could just be that I'm recovering from a weekend of black-out drunkenness or perhaps that during that blacked out period I lost my phone, but I'm just not getting what's going on with my relationship these days. No, not the one people have with other humans... I'm talking about my relationship with New York.

Lately, it seems this city is saying to me "Yeah, right... Go home kid". From the cab driver who so politely enforced that I pay for the vomit I left in his backseat to the guy who flat-out walked HEAD-ON into me this morning, this city and I don't seem to be getting along. Now, in all fairness, I'm not speaking of the city in its physical form, or even its "spiritual" form. Clearly, I'm speaking of the individuals who reside here. It's important to also note that I'm speaking of a very small percentage of these individuals as most folks I encounter on a daily basis are neither polite nor impolite, they just exist.

My fascination with Manhattan, as I'm sure I've pointed out in the past, is consuming at times. From my first job downtown on 6th to my current job, in midtown, also on 6th, I've just been amazed at the fact that I work here. I used to get off the train from the suburbs and marvel at the fact that, not 8 years ago, I was coming to "the city" as one of those kids who likes to get drunk on St. Patrick's Day and skip high school (which was ok in junior year; I was hardly there). Now, I'm a full-fledged resident (well, of Brooklyn, but soon to be Battery Park City) of this great place and I just can't seem to figure some parts of it out. I've yet to find a part of the city that makes me say "I wish I was back home" (home being 60 miles north in Orange County, NY).

The one part that I do wish I could leave everyday are the shitty fucking people who stand out in this city. If you just go about your business, showing some level of courtesy throughout the month, you'll largely go unnoticed, which is fine, save for the few people who realize you're being courteous and not "weird". But if you act like a total fucking asshole, man, you're right there for everyone to see. The guy screaming at the top of his lungs at his wife on the subway platform about his stupid fucking shirt she didn't pick up or the asshole on the bike who thinks lights don't apply to him and LITERALLY ran over my shoe clearly are not required for this city to function. Granted, I'm far from perfect (those of you who actually have met me can attest to this) but I really just want to have one day, shit, maybe even 2, where none of these people exist, at least in my path to and from work. Maybe I'm not "New York" enough to just tune this out. Regardless, it gets old. So any of you out there who may be totally inconsiderate and a real piece of shit, feel free to not cross my path, sooner rather than later. In no way am I angry or upset about this; just worn out. I'm sure we could all use a little more courtesy and consideration (I sound like a public service announcement on the subway.)

Clearly not everyone here sucks. But just to make sure I'm driving this point home, I CAN'T stand the woman who stands on 6th ave, between 42nd and 43rd, handing out AMNY newspapers in the morning. She whines, fucking WHINES "AM.... AM.... AAAAAAAAAAM" all morning. I spend maybe about 7 seconds in this location each morning as I climb out of the whole in the ground for the F, but those 7 seconds are sheer fucking torture. Can't she mix it up with "AMNY" or "Free newspaper" like the METRO guy does? Why all morning must it be "AM... AM.... AM.... AM...."?

Enough complaining, back to work.

Could it be????

Yes, that's right, I've actually found suitable housing in Manhattan. Not only have I found suitable housing, but the other occupants I'll be sharing the space with are normal and they actually want me to live with them! So, it's official, I'M MOVING TO MANHATTAN!!

Here are the details: Huge (about 15x22) room in the Financial District, close to the river and not too far from the A/C/E and 1 train. We have a doorman and laundry in the building (a big deal for a Brooklyn guy like myself). The other roommates are cool; I know one of them from Binghamton and the other one seemed like a chill guy. The room itself is nearly larger than my apartment in Park Slope now. The best part: The floor is not collapsing!!

So I'm moving September 1st. Everyone else out there who is still searching, keep your head above water. It's damn near impossible to find what you want, so you have to settle sometimes. I wasn't willing to compromise on the size of the room, but was willing to walk 5-8 minutes to get to a subway. Also, the neighborhood isn't exactly crawling with bars and restaurants, but I'd rather have a place to get away from that, but still be close enough to everything (i.e. in Manhattan and not 45 minutes out in Brooklyn). So make a list and figure out what's important to you and what's not. If you're willing to live in a closet and be 5 floors up with no elevator, then you could find a room tomorrow, in any neighborhood.

There are some things I will miss about Brooklyn but not too many. I'll probably miss the cool Thai place that finally opened up after 3 months of delays on 14th and 7th (Watana Thai, great food if you find yourself in that part of Brooklyn). I'll also miss the excitement of moving to my first place outside home. I really would stay in this place if it was not falling down. But it's better for me to be closer to work and friends and have a stable place than to be out in Brooklyn, worrying that I might wake up in a pile of what used to be my building.

Obsessive behavior?

Around this time, last summer, I went on a health/fitness kick that I'm finding myself coming around to again. I would severely limit my caloric intake as well as make every attempt to burn off more than half of what I took in everyday. The result: I lost 40 pounds in about 3 months. Although I didn't have any kind of muscle definition, I felt great. I wouldn't describe myself as "overweight" but, like most Americans, I have some areas that I'm not too proud of. So to see those areas shrink or disappear felt really good.

The problem I face (forgive me any ladies reading this, I understand most of you go through this on a daily basis) is that when I get to where I want to be, I find it's hard to regulate and maintain that weight. Of the 40 I took off, I put 20 back, and most of that came rushing in when I moved to Brooklyn. It's too damn easy to eat like crap in this city. Usually after coming home at 7 or 8, after one of those "I did a ton of work today and I'm not just saying that to justify coming home at 8" days, I'll stop by the Thai restaurant or the Chinese place or pick up pasta and sauce from Russo's. Carb-loaded with rice or pasta and always greasy. But, it's fast and I'm tired.

So what do I do on those days when I'm trying to stay healthy? Park Slope is great, but there are no "do-it-yourself" salad spots around. Plus, people in Brooklyn have this body image thing, kind of akin to "I might have some extra meat on me, but I've got some curves (if you're a woman)" Mind you, I prefer ladies with curves, so that's fine, just pointing out how this mentality doesn't fly in Manhattan, really... For guys, I find it's more of a "I'm too cool to go to the gym. Plus, I live in Brooklyn, and I pretend not to care that I'm still single and 35 and it's all because I won't adjust my eating habits or drinking with my boyz."

Clearly, I don't want to fall into any of that, and I don't want you to get the impression that it's all about looks with me: not at all. In terms of women, I'm much more attracted to a girl who's got the curves than one who's really thin. Laws of physical attraction, according to Noonan, dictate you have the womanly shape and not the 12-year old boy shape.

In terms of my own weight though, I'm very much aware that my overall quality of life is much higher when I'm slimmer, not just in terms of health, but just being happy with myself. I'm also much more confident, not just with the ladies but also throughout life. But do we need to be obsessive to get to where we want to be? In my career, I often think that if I work harder or constantly put my nose to the "grindstone" that I'll be promoted. And, that pretty much works. So why wouldn't I try to be just as diligent with my weight? In no way is what I'm doing actually unhealthy: I'm not puking or eating a string bean for dinner with a side of water. But I'm working out, I'm eating less, I cut out the ice cream and other things that I'm craving RIGHT NOW AS I WRITE THIS. So hopefully, in a month or so, I'll be back to where I want to be in terms of my weight and then I'll have had enough time to figure out how to maintain what I have and not gain some or all of what I spent so much time and energy losing. Any comments on this or suggestions of how to maintain are welcomed.

Nice normal guy seeks apartment for less than a fortune with normal people

From my title, you can tell where I'm headed. Right into a brick wall. Living in New York is great and I really wouldn't want to be anywhere else. But moving from Brooklyn to Manhattan is near impossible unless you own Google or have a grandmother who lives in rent-controlled heaven and is on a respirator... Clearly she's on her way out.

These past weeks searching for an apartment have been torture. I'm not in a position to live on my own yet, as I can't afford the rent. So for now, I'm attempting to find a share. July or August, either is fine. I just want to find people who are ok to live with and a room that's not advertised as "12x15" and is really "1x5".

Which brings me to my next problem with the situation (I'm really not a miserable person, most of the time): posting on Craigslist. I love the site, found my first place on it. I cannot, however, stand some of these people's postings. Allow me to translate what some of them mean:

"I'm rarely home" = "I have no life and pretend that I do so you'll think you're getting 1/2 a roommate."

"I'm a light smoker" = "I chain smoke 3 packs before and after dinner."

"Prefer female, but either is ok" = "Clearly I won't live with a guy but I'm technically not allowed to discriminate on Craigslist, so I have to put both. Guys, don't call."

"Utilities not included (around $60-$70 a month" = "$60-$70 if you don't turn the lights on, watch TV, breathe, and take a shower EVER."

"My beloved old roommate is leaving for a better job/life/girl/etc." = "I'm scary and this guy finally figured out that I've been performing evil chants at night with the hopes that he doesn't wake up in the morning."

As you can see, it's tough going. Part of me almost wants to give up, but the other part is driven and really does want to get into Manhattan. However, both parts are severely hungover today, so it'll have to wait another day.

(If anyone reading this has any ideas or contact, please email me pnoonan127@gmail.com. I'm looking for a share, South of 96th street, will live with guys and girls, budget is $1200 (no higher, I have a big student loan). Thanks.)

6-6-6

Today, apparently, is some fusion of math, science, and potential devil-worship. It's somewhat embarrassing that the fact that today, June 6, 2006 (6-6-06), somehow representative of some big hell party, is actually making local and national news! Do people really think that somehow, today, because of MATH, is going to spontaneously be "the end of the world" or spawn some sort of evil hell-on-earth character?

There actually is some sort of mathematical explanation for the natural occurrence of "666". Apparently, this number appears quite often in nature and math (see The Mathematical Association of America). The previous link will actually explain all the different mathematical occurrences of "666" and the reasoning behind these instances.

Living in New York, I believe I have a unique perspective on 666: Is there really any difference when comparing this day to any other? I believe it was "5/15/06" when a homeless man approached me on the subway and yelled all sorts of explicatives about .5 inches from my face. That sounds pretty life-ending to me, yet it wasn't 6-6-06. Or how about the various "street meat" carts that adorn midtown corners all year round. I'm sure that food is just as likely to kill you and send you to hell on any day, forget a day that happens to be "damned" because of the coincidental date and folklore. The sad thing is that I actually heard on the radio this morning that cities are placing extra cops on patrol, just in case some people really think the world will end.

I say, go out and enjoy today, much as you would any other day. It's hard enough making it through a day in this city without having to deal with mathematical coincidences that have no bearing on anyone's life in any way, shape or form. Watch out for that bus hurtling up 6th ave that's too close to the sidewalk; take notice of the creepy man sitting next to you who looks like he might have a bomb on the subway; don't walk through Bed-Stuy after dark. But don't pay attention to 6-6-06; you've got enough to worry about.

Trader Ho's

I set out yesterday afternoon in search of "groceries". I've been making an attempt, for some time now, to eat healthier food, which typically entails brining lunch to the office and eating dinner at home (healthier and cheaper). So after my first attempt a few weeks back to find Trader Joe's on 14th (yes, it's right on 14th but for some reason, I failed to go east of 4th ave the first time and thus ended up at Whole Foods), I finally made it back some time around 4:30 yesterday afternoon.

The first initial entrance into this place leads you to several conclusions: 1) It's crowded... and not that typical "oh everything in New York is crowded but we all just deal with it" type of crowded... This place is Tokyo-subway type of crowded. 2) It's small, despite also being crowded. I wrestled a basket thing away from the pile in the front and set out, not really knowing what I wanted, but thinking along the lines of "light bread, vegetables for a salad, fruit to bring to work, soy-based snacks, etc". One thing to note about Trader Joe's (unless there's a secret compartment): their produce line-up flat out SUCKS. The whole point of trying this place out was in hopes of finding better produce than Whole Foods, which has great produce, I'm sure, in any other store BUT the one on 14th. So after coming to the conclusion that I'd need to go elsewhere for produce, I decided to try and get some bread. Easier said than done. Apparently, in order for bread to be "organic", the word "light" cannot appear on the packaging, for this implies something less than organic. I don't really give a rat's ass about organic bread, but I do want something that has less than 400 calories a slice, which this crap didn't.

I proceeded to pick out some other things: organic tostito's, organic pretzels, organic something else.... Then I started to notice the people. Many people just standing around, seemingly in a line, but in places where no line should be. The checkout is at the front of the store and these people were seemingly lined up near the rear of the store.... What's going on here? Yeah, that's right, that's the line for the checkout. After further inspection, I realized that it stretched all the way around to form a complete square in the store. Quickly realizing that this is no longer worth it and probably never will be, I ditched my basket and headed out the door. I was on my way to Whole Foods when I noticed the Food Emporium across the street. No line out the door, no signs screaming "ORGANIC OR GET OUT"... This was what I needed.

Turns out, the Food Emporium had exactly what I wanted. I got (listen to this) "Whole Grain WHITE Bread".... They made white bread healthy... awesome. I also picked up some fruit and vegetables, got some iced tea mix (diet, as I don't drink "regular" soda/drinks and am trying to cut back on diet soda in general), "Light" Tostitos, with 1/3 calories, Febreeze (I ran out and you'd be surprised what you can use this crap for), and some other stuff. The best part about the trip was that I felt like I was in a real grocery store. Most places in the city feel like an oversized corner store or are "ORGANIC OR GET OUT" establishments, which are too annoying sometimes.

So if any of you are looking for a supermarket experience that you remember before moving to the city (most of you have all lived in some suburb somewhere), I recommend Food Emporium. Name sounds a little ghetto, but I was pleasantly surprised. I've yet to figure out why stores like Trader Joe's and Whole Foods do so well in this city when you literally have to cook/prepare (almost) everything you get from these places and NONE OF US has a normal kitchen for this preparation... I just don't get it.

Things You Forget

I headed out Tuesday at around 5:30 from my office. My thoughts ranged from "Should I go to the gym?" to "Man, I'm hungry" to "Maybe my apartment will have finally collapsed and I'll be able to move".... Not once was I thinking "Did I leave anything at the office?"

The subway ride was relatively uneventful, and as I'd had quite the day from hell already, my main focus was just getting home and trying to forget about the day. As I was walking from the hole in the ground toward my apartment, I saw some guy take his keys out, so that he'd be READY TO GO once he got to his apartment. My initial thought was "Are you afraid someone is going to attack you?". Then I thought "I hope I put my keys in my bag/pocket/shoe/anywhere accessible now and didn't leave them in the office." After searching my bag/pocket/shoe/you get the idea, I realized I'd left my keys ON MY DESK in MIDTOWN. The subway ride is only about 35 minutes, but after a bad day, it's the last thing I want to do. I quickly try to think of anyone who's still at work who lives near me: not a soul.

Back down into the hole in the ground, headed toward Manhattan when the rest of the world is headed out. "At least I'll get a seat", I thought to myself, somewhat sarcastic, but somewhat hopeful. (Note to all reverse commuters: You're insane.) For every train heading into Manhattan, about 5 are headed out, at this time of day. So, sure as f*ck, I didn't get a seat. SON OF A BITCH. Now I'm trying to think of a dinner situation as I won't get back home until well after 8. I call a few friends, none of them are answering or available (the F goes above ground for a few stops).

I get to the office, grab my keys, and again, head back out. Now I look like one of those people who works late everyday and does so just to get on a less crowded train. Mind you, it's 7:30 and I should have been home by now, probably already watching TV or playing guitar or doing something to make this day go away. NO, I'm getting on another F train. I finally got home around 8:15 after picking dinner at some local "Italian" restaurant.

Now, without fail, I put my keys in my briefcase, EVERY MORNING, after leaving my building so as not to recreate this awful evening. On another funnier, universe-getting-me-back note, I left my iPod earbuds in the office yesterday and was music-less for about 14 hours.

The Art of the 3-Day Weekend

Hopefully, none of the rest of you are actually still in the city this weekend. It's Sunday, the mid-point of Memorial Day Weekend and I've found it's more about surviving this weekend than savoring it, sometimes.

I spent yesterday with my mom at the Metropolitan Museum of Art looking at some Anglomania exhibit. I wasn't aware that the exhibit was all about British fashion for if I had been aware of this prior to arriving at the MET, I would have never answered the phone when my mom called. Anyway, I was stuck, so I decided to try and enjoy myself. This was a bit harder than it should have been as I got about 3 hours sleep after spending Friday night at Bowlmor and some Irish Bar with friends.

The best part about the museum was lunch (for me at least; I've been to the MET countless times and I do enjoy it, but just wasn't in the mood yesterday). I had some great pasta thing for lunch and it was good; really helped the hangover. I also got a great book on Subway architecture and art, which, according to this book, are one and the same. (For those of you who don't know, I'm somewhat of a subway fan. If I could take a week off and drive a subway, that would be amazing.)

Today is suppposed to be "Dad comes to Brooklyn, take 2" but I've yet to hear from the man since last weekend, so we'll see. Like I said, it's all about survival. Clearly, 90% of my friends fled the city sometime on Thursday or Friday, so when ideas pop up like "Call Robyn" or "I wonder what Trevor is doing?" they're just met with the disappointing realization that everyone managed to secure plans for the weekend.

The best part of the 3-day weekend is the realization sometime Sunday afternoon that you have ONE MORE DAY before you have to go back to work! I'm excited for that moment. So that's the key to surviving this 3-day abyss.

My Weekend

So another weekend comes to a close and I must say, I'm not impressed, but I'm fairly pleased. Here goes:

Friday: Great day at the office. I spent some time getting one project done that was pretty critical with our migration and such. I left the office around 530, headed to this Mexican taco stand in Park Slope, picked up dinner, and headed home to "relax" (the term "relax" usually is reserved for people who perform strenuous tasks over a period of time, and then take another period of time to rest from those tasks..... I wonder if work really counts as one of those tasks for me..).

Saturday: Woke up early. Hung around a little, got dressed and headed into town. I'm checking out a place tomorrow up on 3rd Avenue in the high 70's. (Yeah, I'm moving... soon, I hope. Whenever I refer to an apartment I'm looking at or a place I'm seeing, they're all shares with randoms, but it's gotta be better than this hole I live in now). Anyway, I went up to 77th and Lexington, walked over to 3rd and who did I see????? That's right, JASON GIAMBI!!! The big show, so to speak!! He was walking out of his place, which is right around the corner from the place I'm going to see Monday. Naturally I said "That's Jason Giambi" loud enough for him to hear. He turned, said "Hey man, how's it going?" and then got in his big SUV. I screamed at the last minute "Good luck today man!!!"..... Pretty cool!

After walking around up there for a while, I headed down to 64th and 2nd to the movie theater. I saw The DaVinci Code (yes, by myself... first time to the movies on my own, and I have to say, it's pretty much the way to go... more on that another time). The movie was great, and I highly recommend it to anyone who has or has not read the book. I headed back to Brooklyn and met up with my friend Trevor (friend since 7th grade... this guy lives in Williamsburg with his girlfriend, Melissa... they're cool people and I'm lucky to have him as a friend) to play some tennis. This was a good time, but I could NOT get my first serve in at all. However, I did get one in, a nice spinning model, which spun right into his crotch and was blocked only by his hand that happened to be in the area... Oh well, it was a good time, though I lost.

Sunday: Got up, went to the gym. Then I did my laundry. I walked up 7th Avenue in Park Slope to get some incense as I ran out. This was a good time, but I'm not really a fan of the people that come to the neighborhood on the weekends just to "hang out in Brooklyn".... They tend to look at everyone and try to figure out who actually lives here just by how they look. GO HOME.

My dad was supposed to come in for dinner but he got held up. So I decided I'd blog. I'm going to look at some more places this week. I'd like to move June 1. Anyway, I hope you all had good weekends. I hope to blog on a regular schedule again.

The Far West Side

These past two days, I've been in training (today is day 2) to learn a survey programming tool. Good times. Anyway, this place is located in midtown, between 9th and 10th avenues. I knew such thoroughfares existed, but I never considered that anything actually was over here. Turns out, outside of a few offices (cheap rent) there's really not much at all. Note my 5 or 6 block jaunt just to find a Starbucks (non-existent).

Couple this with another west-side experience: that's right, Noonan's apartment hunting again. I went uptown to 84th and CPW yesterday to take a look at a very small room for not much less than I pay now for a 1 BR in Brooklyn. Turns out, the place was nice and was half a block from the park, but it's just too small. I've often been suspicious of the West side. Turns out, I really just don't like the far West side. Anything along CPW is really nice. I realized, however, that to get the amount of space I have now in that neighborhood, I'd probably be paying close to $4,000 a month. I don't know about you, but the last time I checked, I wasn't raking in $200k a year.

So that's my West side experience. I now know why I stay away from this place.

Coming tomorrow: my experience looking for an apartment on Wall Street.

Broken-wrist man

I was at the Yankee game last night and witnessed the entire Matsui-breaks-his-wrist-Joe-Torre-sprints-out-to-left incident and man, it sucked. Having broken my wrist myself, I can understand the pain and terror you feel when your hand suddenly doesn't feel connected to your arm........ And I'm going to digress into that story

Freshman year up at Binghamton: I'm drunk. I was headed to my first frat party with my friends and had about 8 beers in me. Obviously lacking the power to reason logically, I decided jumping off this cement block onto a sidewalk about 5 feet below me would be a great idea. Yeah, I landed on my wrist. Looking at my arm sideways, it made a "Z". I'll let that sink in for a minute...... Right, so I ended up in the emergency room, so drunk that I couldn't actually take any pain killers for 6 hours. The "doctor" set my wrist eventually and to this day, something isn't right. If you know me personally, you've seen the disaster that is my left wrist, complete with protruding bone (it's not that bad but it's not cool). To this day, I cannot swing a baseball bat properly. So let's hope Matsui has a better doctor than the ass-clown who "set" my wrist back in place.

Sorry about the streak man. It would have been refreshing to see a REAL baseball player enter the record books without the help of love-organ altering drugs.

Why blogging sucks

Blogger ate my post. SERIOUSLY.

I'm angry because 1) this takes time and 2) I'm not really that creative to think up a new post. Trying to re-create the old one, forget it. I work with numbers for a reason: there's no creativity necessary. Usually I spend my days NOT being creative and then have this blog as an outlet for the minutiae of creativity that builds up all day. Now, I'm screwed. It's over. This is my post for today. Comment away on how I'm being bitter and how I should write my posts in Word and then transfer. I don't care.

The "List" Post

Seeing as Mondays generally tend to suck and don't generate much content, I'm making a list. I suppose this qualifies as a list of favorite things, actions, or anything else I tend to be fond of. So in no particular order (or maybe there is; you figure out the pattern of randomization), I present Noonan's favorites:

1) This glass of wine I'm drinking right now (this is a futile attempt to get "sleepy" and pass out before 2 am so I can go to the gym tomorrow before work).

2) Music: If you took music away from me for an entire day, I'd probably start seizing on the floor. Currently listening to Thursday and Death Cab for Cutie. Polar opposites.

3) This wine is really good.

4) Mud Truck coffee. Wish they were in midtown.

5) Women: Without you, I'd perpetuate in a state of sheer boredom, rather than occasional lapses. No, really, you keep it real.

6) Numbers: I'm a nerd, a numbers nerd at that, but they're cool.

7) Politics

8) Have I mentioned how good this wine is?

9) My blog. Must be on your list too if you're reading this.

10) Spring: It's the only season for me. Summer is hot but not bad sometimes. Fall, well, everything's dying. Winter, seriously, show me the good.

11) This site: Sloganizer. The idea is you enter any words that come to mind (keep it short) and this thing generates slogans! Try it, and don't be a pervert.

12) Here it comes. Noonan sentimentality=1 part wine, 3 parts Noonan, and throw in a dash of Monday; I really like the group of people I've managed to surround myself with recently. I'm talking about work, not work, and everything in between. Most of you read this blog, so, you guys and gals rank up there on my list. Don't forget, there's no particular order here.

13) Even numbers, so there's no way I can end here.

14) That's better. Also, I'm a fan of playing my guitar.

So there's my list. Mind you, this isn't everything, as there are many things that just aren't meant for public consumption, or better yet, aren't meant for public blogging. But yeah, my list post is complete. Probably a pretty crappy list, but hey, this is Noonan's blog. This is no first-rate publication.

Weekends

Last week, I spoke of a weekend cycle I've fallen victim to. So now is when I'm supposed to tell you about the cool events of this weekend that broke that cycle. I'm afraid the rest of this post may disappoint. But sometimes, as I fear some of you may have noticed, I tend to shoot from the hip on this blog, and might surprise myself by the end of the post.... Read on!

I did, despite myself, have a very nice time in Union Square/Chelsea yesterday. A friend and I went to Home Depot (my father refers to this as "Homeless Depot"....... Yeah, he sees the irony too.) where I purchased some items for my apartment. We then headed over to Bed, Bath and Beyond (no name for this from my dad) where I bought some things to lift my bed about 8 inches off the ground. I can't really say why I did that, but it's a neat perspective and I didn't fall out of my bed when I got up this morning, so no harm done.

We then headed over to Union Square, found the "elusive" Mud Truck and had some great coffee. You should check that place out. I've been craving a good cup of coffee for a while. I didn't really want a latte with 500 calories and burnt crap Starbucks in it. Nor did I want street meat vendor coffee. So the Mud Truck hit the spot. I headed home, my friend uptown, and the day was pretty much over. But man, it was a good time, just hanging out, getting some home essentials, enjoying the city, the nice weather. So, maybe I did break the cycle. I did something that I don't usually do, spent some time with cool people (person) and hung out in Union Square for a while. I usually just pass through that hell hole, but spending time in the park part is fun. The wind was blowing the whole time, dispersing flower petals off the trees all over, including in my face. I thought to myself "What a great way to infect people with biochemical weapons" and then I thought "You moron, just enjoy the wind and flowers."

So, a first for Noonan's blog, a weekend post. I feel far less funny today and have no material to convey from the office (a hot-bed of shenanigans). Although, I have posted earlier in the week than Audrey so HA, I'm up first. Enjoy the rest of your weekends. For those of you who love your jobs (like myself), time for a new week. For those of you who don't love your jobs, find a new one. Start being happy. And until you find a new job, spend some time in Union Square with a good friend (or lady friend if the opportunity presents itself) and get some Mud. Enjoy.

Anyone's space

Much a-do about social networking sites these days, so I decided to comment, Noonan style. Having recently ended my academic career (not that recent), I often find myself saying "I wonder what THAT guy is doing" or "Did that jackass I shared an apartment with actually get a job yet?". So, for these reasons, I've joined many a social networking site. Facebook, Friendster, and Myspace have all allowed me to get in touch with friends from the past. But what's the real value here?

After having found such individuals, usually one of us will use the site's messaging service to send a message, with something like this in the body "Hey man, long time no see. What have you been up to? We should get a drink sometime. Hit me back when you get a chance". Fairly innocuous and polite message, but still leaves the option for either individual to decide if they'd like to respond in kind. 90% of the time, the recipient will respond with something like "Dude, awesome that you found me on here. I'm working in NYC and living with (my parents, my roommate, my sexual deviant, etc.). Let's get a beer soon. Here's my cell. Later." All well and good.

But come on. We all know, unless you've kept in touch with this person over the years (and, judging by the fact that you're looking them up on one of these sites, you have not kept in touch), you're not really going to "re-live the old days" or "catch up". You have the friends you do at present for a reason: they're accessible, they don't suck that much (most of the time), or you're hooking up with one of them and she's hot. There's no need to really head back in time and reconnect. (I must say that although I preach this love 'em and leave 'em lifestyle, I have reconnected with many friends: this doesn't apply to you).

So I fail to see the real value of social networking sites, other than if you're friends with really hot girls and you're trying to make your guy friends jealous. "That's right, she's my friend, not yours dude." And yet I remain faithful, checking up on my "friends" daily. Imagine what other productive things I could do with that time. Imagine.

Why we blog

I was trying to think of something to blog about all morning/beginning of this afternoon and have really turned up with nothing. Then I started thinking about why I blog, and I realized, as one friend has pointed out to me on countless occasions, "Noonan, you LOVE the attention." She's more than right.

I realized that I generally enjoy the company of people. I also enjoy making people laugh; I feel if I haven't made you laugh and I've known you for longer than 5 or 10 minutes, I've not really done a good job at being me. Mind you, I'm not a comedian by trade, and have never thought to myself "Noonan, you're a funny bastard. You should do stand-up." But I'd like to think I'm witty enough to get a chuckle out of folks. So this is one reason I blog.

I also blog to make money. Yeah, that's right, I make money off you people. Thank you, in advance. I should qualify this fact, actually quantify this fact, with the raw numbers: I've made $1.33 over a week and a half. So I'll take y'all out to lunch sometime in the next 3 years when I've made enough off of you. Thanks for clicking my ads, in advance.

The third (is it only 3 so far) reason I blog is for the simple reason that I can. I can add to the filthy, sweaty, stinky pile of consumer-created content on the web. And it's great. You may have your own opinions of my blog, and I welcome those. But I have to admit, the sheer joy I get every time I hit "Publish Post" outweighs any sense of shame I feel for publishing sheer non-sense most of the time.

So that's why I blog. I encourage any of you out there with something to say (or, if you're like me, with NOTHING to say) to give it a shot. This concludes my official "Meta-blog" on this blog.

Damon a New Yorker?

For anyone who saw the Yankee game last night, surely we all had expectations as to the type of welcome Johnny Damon would receive from the crowd in Boston. Past precedent (Wade Boggs) indicated that Damon would be welcomed with a chorus of "boo's". But, I thought to myself "Damon's pretty classy and did great things for this team. Maybe they're thankful for all he's done and they'll wish him well." Wow, was I wrong!

Not only was Damon not received warmly, he was downright mistreated. These are fans who had not won a world championship in 86 years and they have NO RESPECT for one of the key members of that championship team. Although he looked like a mountain man for several years, Damon's a pretty sincere guy. He cares about the fans, his teammates and most of all, the game. So to show some class, he tipped his batting helmet toward the Boston dugout, which got some of the crowd to realize that he was a really great player and a great guy. However, after he grounded out, he went back to the Yankee dugout and was visibly shaken.

I'm the last guy to defend a player who switches teams for reasons that appear to be centered around money. But, in this case, the Red Sox really did not make an attempt to keep Damon and the Yankees offered not only more money, but the prospect of CONSISTENT winning as well as a fan-base that has some class.

When Johnny took the field in center, fans started throwing dollar bills, some 20's as well, onto the field, "giving Damon exactly what he wants." As far as I'm concerned, scoop those bills up Johnny, and enjoy a night at the bar on the WORST FANS IN THE WORLD. You deserve it.

Welcome to New York Johnny. We're glad to have you. Thanks for showing the same amount of class up in Boston that we will always show you.

Weekend Warriors

I'm not sure about everyone else's weekend(s), but I'm noticing a distinct pattern beginning to appear within mine.

My weekends usually start on Thursday night, with some event (this week, it happened to be a Yankees game, followed up by a night filled with little sleep) that inevitably leaves me too tired to think the next day. Friday is usually a struggle; however, in my world/office, Fridays tend to be a joke anyway. So I really didn't need to be on my game, which is good, because, as is typical, my "game" was eluding me.

Friday night began with me heading home, grabbing some dinner and watching TV. Friday night ended with me eating dinner and falling asleep in front of the TV. This may be where the fundamental flaw within my pattern comes to light. The result of this passing out before 11 on a Friday is that I'm awake at 7 am on Saturday. This usually angers me and forces me to sleep more, just because "It's Saturday, I'm supposed to sleep." This Saturday, I decided to get up and go to the gym.

NYSC in Park Slope is never really "crowded", so it was no surprise that at 8 am on Saturday, not a soul was lurking. Anyway, I worked out, went home, ate some lunch, went to the office to do some work, bought some clothes, went home. That was the afternoon; not too bad.

I went out with a friend for dinner at "Dallas BBQ". There are about 20 of these things in the city, so it wasn't exactly haute cuisine, but it was good food, plus cheap beer. I then trekked downtown to Stanton Street to see Big Dictator (Donsky's band: official review= Insane, but good times). I saw a few other bands, met up with Frank, who in general, is sarcastic enough to boost anyone's mood. I broke my glasses, which kind of sucks, so now I look like I need new glasses and am wearing the old one's because I'm too cheap to buy new ones (not too far from the truth).

Sunday was great, other than me waking up at noon, doing laundry (twice: forgot my sheets the first time), taking about 2 hours to get to Target (really love the weekend transportation situation in NYC), and ending with wondering if my living room floor is really sinking further, or if I imagine these things.

So yes, all in all, not a bad weekend, but cyclical. I've done this weekend before, and yeah, it's a good time, but I need to switch it up this coming weekend. Something bold, crazy, maybe get out of town, go to Jersey, somewhere I can get to without a car that's "different".... Any thoughts?

The Sound of Settling

Rather than ranting about what's wrong with this city and my life, I decided to focus on the amazing experiences that I promised to pass along at the onset of this blog.

First off, any of you who are not currently familiar with the band Death Cab for Cutie, you need to familiarize yourselves tout de suite. They're amazing and if you're new to them, I recommend starting off with "Transatlanticism", a great album, and then moving to "Plans", their newest release. Really great music. The title of today's post is one of their best songs.

Secondly, I had an amazing night last night. I went to the Yankee game with some people from work and just had a really nice time. The Yanks won, always a good thing, and we all had a nice night. It's rare, in my case, to go out to something with a bunch of people, and have the night end with everyone having a good time.

I guess I really have nothing to complain/rant about today. I'm glad it's Friday; I've got a pretty open weekend, which is nice. I'm sure something amazing/insane will happen and I can blog about it later. OH, I'm going to see Donsky's band, Big Dictator at Arlene's Grocery (not laundry).

F Train

This morning I had a unique experience on the F train. It was my first time on a crowded train with a gentleman who proceeded to talk to thin air, in a rather angry manner, and was reacting as if thin air was responding. The shocking thing about all of this was that he was clean, dressed in jeans and sweatshirt, and appeared as if he was coming from/going to a job. He was, in fact, ranting about his boss and how horrible of a person this boss is. He kept threatening that tomorrow is "Sit on my ass Friday" and how he won't do a thing.

Some people laughed at the man, some ignored him, other's gave dirty looks. I think I was somewhere between the last two, as there were small children on the train and he was really going at it with the "F this and F that". But then I started wondering what could have possibly driven this man to get to this point, where he needs to shout out in a crowded subway at nobody in particular. Could it really be that his job is that awful? I mean we all say at some point "Man, I hate this job." but we all say that either to someone else or in our heads, and not over and over again in front of strangers at an elevated tone. Regardless of what has driven this man to this point, I felt bad for him and hoped that at some point, someone would help him out. I suppose I should be thankful that he wasn't asking for money at the same time, as his method probably would have been rather ineffective (I used to shout at my mom for cash; never worked out well).

The misadventures of Noonan continue..... Stay tuned for more.

Prices at the Pump

These past few weeks have seen increases in gasoline prices to all-time highs. Recently, I heard on WCBS-AM that a station in Brooklyn was charging somewhere near $4.60 a gallon for regular unleaded gas!!! Soon after the report came out, the station lowered the price on a gallon of regular gas, to a more "manageable" $3.50 per gallon. Let's just say I'm glad I just live and WALK in Brooklyn and am not driving there.

There are many purported sources of the fuel price increases, ranging from Big Oil to individual station owners who "get greedy" at the sign of another fuel increase and tack some on for themselves. The true explanation, one that most Americans, myself included, don't want to admit is that we live in a free market, and are subject to the forces of such a market. A free market can be influenced by anything from the war in Iraq to Bush appointing a new press secretary. So the reality is that we really can be held accountable, as a nation, for the various actions our "leader" takes across the globe. I'm not saying increased gasoline prices are a direct result of the war in Iraq, but you must be seriously kidding (seriously kidding, is that possible?) yourself if you believe that the two are unrelated.

I often, OFTEN, tell this story about my senior year of high school, 1999. I used to drive to a gas station, mind you a recently-opened gas station, about 10 minutes from my house, that sold regular unleaded gas for $0.99 per gallon. That's right, less than a buck. 5 such bucks could get me anywhere my 17 year old heart desired for about a week. Perfection. Now I'm 24, have a job, somehow don't have a car (product of that whole "I MUST live and work in New York City" mentality) and find myself telling stories of "when I was your age...". That's not right. I should have about 60 more years of living before I start recounting such tales to anyone, let alone my peers. So what's really causing the gas price increase? I can't honestly say I know. But what I do know is that, just as every other aspect of life, things will never be the same. I don't know if $3.00 per gallon is here to stay, but I do know that $0.99 a gallon is a fond memory of my senior year of high school... one of many.

Tennis anyone?

It's amazing how much lunch conversations fuel blog posts. We (the unnamed few) were sitting at lunch today discussing gym and what sports we played in school. Now, at the risk of revealing just how big of a nerd I was/am, I tried out for the tennis team at Cornwall Central High School, home to one of the most competitive tennis teams in New York. Long story short, I end up on "exhibition" meaning my games wouldn't "count" but would be more to "watch the kid that's not that good get his butt kicked."

But man, I had a great time playing tennis. I'd show up just for practice everyday just to hit around. I realized later on in college that the main reason I wasn't really that good in high school was the intimidation factor. When I play with friends I feel I really step it up a notch. Not saying I'm Pete Sampras, but I can get some velocity on the ball. I was kicked out of some park recently in Williamsburg for "playing without a permit". Yeah, one more bone to pick with the NYC Parks Department: YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE TO PAY TO PLAY TENNIS.

That aside, we should play sometime. Bring your A game, Noonan doesn't mess around.

The Value of Not Sucking at Life and the Knowledge to Avoid those that do

Subways tend to be a venue rife with stress for me lately. I'm not a rich man, for if I were, I'd be chauffeured to work each and every day, or hell, I wouldn't work. So in keeping with this "I sorta make money but not really" theme, I made my lunch this morning, just a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but nonetheless, a money saver down the road. I place the sandwich in a crazy holiday print Ziploc bag and put it in my work bag that I kicked off my bed in Puerto Rico (Bang Bang). Heading out the door, I'm feeling pretty good about my lunch, and rather protective, as it's not wrapped in thin sheet of bullet proof Kevlar, which would probably do the trick in keeping my sandwich in one piece.

I get on the lovely F (F for "You're going to get F'ed over on this train somehow") and stand, careful not to lean on anything as I don't want to crush my already vulnerable sandwich. Doing fine, up until Jay Street. Now 90% of the train usually empties out here to catch the A up the west side. Today, that wasn't the case. Nearly everyone stayed on and some jackass suit got on and proceeded to think he was too good to hold onto anything. So the train starts moving, and sure as sh*t, this moron falls RIGHT ONTO MY BAG. Now I'm furious, and proceed to give dirty looks, harsh sighs, and even a "jesus".

What's with people? I mean that guy sucks at life. He's all suited up, good for him. He's got the WSJ in his hand, again, I'm thrilled out my ass. But you're TOO GOOD to grab hold of something so you don't LAUNCH yourself into another human being? Seriously man. SERIOUSLY. "I am dressed in a suit and therefore am not subject to the same laws of gravity and other physics theorems that the rest of the world is. I won't fall as I'm made of money man and I'm perfect." Get a life and stop sucking at it.

Noonan OUT.

Tipping

A topic brought up at lunch today got me thinking about tipping: when, where, how much, and why?

If you're at dinner, any restaurant where you're seated and someone is bringing food to you, I agree, tipping (20% in the city) is appropriate. However, I cannot stand the places where you wait at a counter, and then likely take the food with you, that have "tip jars" set up on the counter. What is this crap? You're not going out of your way to bring me the food. As a matter of fact, I'm waiting for you to bring it to me, and I'm standing, and probably pissy. No tip for you.

What about at a hair salon/barber (whatever you prefer to call it)? Ladies, I can see how you should tip everyone and their uncle who comes in contact with your heads as you have a ton of hair. However, men, I say a tip is in line, but given that we don't usually have that much hair, anything more than a couple bucks is extravagant. Of course, I don't pay more than $25 for my haircut anyway, so adjust accordingly.

Finally, taxis. Now this pisses me off. Just the other day a friend and I were headed uptown from Union Square. My friend said 41st and 6th, and the driver starts up park ave. Out of NOWHERE, he makes a right, going east.... Now, why, if you're heading uptown from a point south and east, to get to a point north and west, would you go further east? He claims he heard "Washington Avenue" and not "6th"...... I know of no such Washington Avenue in New York City (if there is one, my apologies) but "6th" does not sound like "Washington" in anyone's book. So for this, the total was $5.40 and I gave the man $6 and went on with my night. NO, he does not deserve a tip for driving me clear across Manhattan in the wrong direction and charging me more money than it should have been. So I say, tip a taxi driver a good amount if they manage to get you somewhere quicker than you expected. If not, round up to the next whole dollar and call it a day. I'm not cheap, I'm grumpy.