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....
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Monday, October 30, 2006
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
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.
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.
Friday, October 06, 2006
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
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).
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).
Monday, October 02, 2006
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.
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.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
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.
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.
Monday, August 14, 2006
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.
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.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
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.
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.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
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.
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.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
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.....
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.....
Thursday, June 29, 2006
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
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.
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.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
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.
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.
Friday, June 09, 2006
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.)
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.)
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
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.
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.
Monday, June 05, 2006
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.
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.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
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 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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
