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?