i been fixin' ta get these picture up fer y'all

ALMOST HEAVEN...almost

everyone should go to west virginia. right now. it's one of the most beautiful states i've seen and a place i called home for five years. and if you insist on making fun of the state, i assure you that your jokes will be more potent if you spend some time there.

over memorial day weekend, a bunch of my freinds and i went back to morgantown for revenge. good times, for sure... boatin', shootin' guns, fishin', drankin', and gittin' rowdy.

ian was kind enough to drive amanda, bailey, and me back and play tour guide through lesser known weston, wv. we were able to get the inside track on real life in the middle of the state with such memorable insights as, "a guy named doodle lives there. he's a real scumbag."

night one: stayed in clarksburg, posed with every trans am we could find, and raided goodwill .

because it is a point of personal pride, i feel inclined to mention that i got some cowboy boots for 2 bucks.

ended up being lucky enough to spend 2 days on the stonewall jackson lake, a stunning place where the water meanders through rolling green mountains. not a telephone pole in sight. awesome.

when we were thoroughly finished appreciating natural beauty, we headed to morgantown, wv, home to west virginia univeristy and several of our old friends who still remember stories about us we wish they'd forget.

enjoyed some light reading and a heavy lunch in the company of the famous logan hall.




once night fell, it was time to hit up aptly named high street, a.k.a. the hub of morgantown nightlife. walked into gibbies and found my old employer (gibbie) plopped down in his usual barstool hitting on college girls 30 years his junior. he glanced at me as if we'd seen each other yesterday, smiled, and said, "do you want to write on somebody?" i did, actually. funny he should ask. i nodded with conviction and he pointed down the bar. "there's some dude passed on the prep table in the kitchen. someone will give you a marker." so i went back... GOT IN LINE(!) and left my mark.

when in rome...

made the obligatory stop at bent willey's (the megabar and anti-hipster establishment) and saddened by the changes, bounced early. i did manage, however, to run into the creepy old man that has never missed a bumpin night on the dance floor, weekdays included. seriously, this guy is spending his retirement scoping college booty. must be keeping him young, because he looks exactly the same as he did six years ago... my freshman year. our first dance...


NOTE: the creepy old man is in the top photo, NOT to be confused with the incomparable joe white... bunkmate.... the next morning was beautiful and sunny. i just love waking up at the friend's inn.

most of our posse hit the road monday to head back to the apple, but we just weren't done yet. headed south in I-79 one last time to do some wierd last minute things.

we are now accepting travel buddy applications for memorial day roadmasters 'o8. git 'em in early, y'all.

decisions, decisions

back in west virginia (and maybe PA, but i don't know because i wasn't buying the beer then), you can't buy alcohol before 1pm. it's considered a sin to even TRY to purchase alcohol on sundays. but here in new york, it's encouraged. all the time. on a hot day, i strolled into a duane reade for some water and searched the signs for navigational cues. sure enough, there was the booze- brazenly sharing a shelf with its remedy. they should just start selling kits. water, beer, antacids, ibuprofen, and gum. marketing genious.

may 20: playlist of the week

1. RYAN ADAMS walls
2. TORI AMOS big wheel
3. FEIST 1234
4. JUSTICE d.a.n.c.e.
5. BOB SCHNEIDER mudhouse
6. THE SHINS sealegs
7. WHISKEYTOWN crazy about you
8. HOPEWELL monolith
9. PETE AND J number one
10. JURASSIC 5 work it out

define "something"

"The happiest people seem to be those who are producing something; the bored people are those who are consuming much and producing nothing."

William Ralph Inge (1860-1954)Cleric and writer

roe vs. wade: the right to... date who you want?

the other night, i was in union square, training to bartend in what a good friend of mine describes as a sweathole. i get through it by telling myself how much i love to write and how this will afford me the time. the clientelle was interesting; a mixture of international sailors and preppy happy hour fanatics. sure, i'd rather be working somewhere in brooklyn- or not serving drinks at all, but i was getting along fine until i heard this:

"...and i just told her, i'm PRO-CHOICE. i'd date a black guy."

after that, i just started looking at my watch every five minutes.

mah block, everything is everything for sheezy

I have a dog. A big, sloppy, frisbee-playing, swimming, muddy, bounding, wonderful mutt who scoffs at dog runs. Central Park is the ideal venue for her …self expression. Before 9am and after 9pm, (off-leash hours) we get to pretend that we live a life that makes a little more sense. A life with more green and less brick and mortar in which dogs and people run free. Or at least where a puppy doesn’t cost as much as an SUV.

I also have a dishwasher and ceiling fans in the second floor junior one bedroom that houses my little family. It’s tucked in a safe neighborhood and is under 17 minutes (unless it’s raining or I’m on the phone with my mother) from the subway. A nice little heart rate spike in the morning. There are conveniences on every corner, good restaurants, and plenty of uninspired bars from which to choose.

Noooo, its not the notorious Village or acceptable Union Square (acceptable, that is, for those who refuse to travel above 14th St). It’s not the poshy Upper West or deliciously irreverent Brooklyn. It’s not even hip-to-be-square Chinatown.

It’s the city equivalent to frat row, filled with post-collegiate white-hats and stroller gridlock.

I've called this 'hood home for 2 years, and I live here for logistic and personal reasons. But really, that’s beside the point. Why anyone chooses or settles for a particular neighborhood (or Jersey) is exactly proportional to why the rest of the country sow and reap in their respective cities and towns. If a good friend of mine landed a job in Cincinnati, Miami, or Missoula, I would congratulate them on their independence and wish them luck. If I had something nice to say about the area, I would. Even if I didn’t, I’d reach for something—“Gotta love the peace and quiet of those desolate open spaces!” So why does this common courtesy drown in the East and Hudson Rivers, never to reach the shores of Manhattan?

Why do people think it’s okay to voice negative opinions about neighborhoods in the company of those who reside there? As if it isn’t enough to live in Manhattan, we have to dine, play, work, and shop in the right places. Why do we turn on our own? We islanders are bound by a common goal to remain. But somehow, amidst our scratching and clawing our way above the red, we forgot to enjoy the skyline and focus instead on small blocks of pavement. Silly.

midlife schmidlife

So I have this theory about mid-life crisis. I think that we’ll see less of it in my generation, the 20-30-somethings. What are we called? GenerationY or Why or Why not or something….

Anyway. Think about it. Our parents had jobs lined up before they were out of college. If they had done their homework, they had a spouse lined up too. They left the shelter of college or high school with the promise of a paycheck and a warm, wedded body next to them at night. They had kids before they had finished evolving into adults themselves, and spent virtually no time alone together. 20 years later, the kids are out of the house, they realize they have very little to talk about, and start to wonder if their cause of death will be disappointment. Was this the right career choice? Who am I? Do I have what it takes? Can I be more? Do I love this person/do they love me? Enter the mid-life crisis.

They last, what, ten embarrassing years? Something like that, I guess. The self doubt can be debilitating. The need for a career with meaning and pleasure seems ever elusive. Money is being spent at The Gap with the nagging worry that you could be looking your age. Sound familiar?

Most of my friends took at least a year after school to leave home again. Some have jobs, real jobs, while others are overeducated and underutilizing our talents. We’re all underpaid. It’s not at all uncommon to work a survival-job for a few years and go back to school to give a boost to whatever nebulous liberal arts degree earned as an undergrad. Or to try and start a t-shirt company, for instance, because it’s so much more personal. Meaningful. Right.

Point is, many of us aren’t taking corporate flight right away or at all like those who bore us did. We’re working on cruise ships, at ski resorts, as life guards, cabana boys, cocktail waitresses, aquatic fitness professionals, throwing huge parties, living in sick apartments with too many roommates and buying sweet cars earlier than the mid-lifers did before us. Sure, some things are different, but one important detail remains constant. We are questioning everything and the answers we’re getting are worth running from.

So by the time we figure it out (and I’m actually in the middle of my 20-something experiment, so I’m not sure how it ends, but here’s to hoping…), we’re around 30. We’ve been out of school, some of us, for almost a decade, and the dust has settled. Or at least, we’ve settled. Even if we’ve had to invent a career to make it happen .

After much soul searching and coming to terms, we’re in low gear, ready to stick it out. This is why I think we’re going to see a radical decline in the mid-life crisis. The more trendy quarter-life crisis is really rocking the nation. And if you think about it, if you’re around 30 when you finally emerge from said crisis, you can’t be only 10 years away from the mid-life snafu. That just doesn’t make any sense.

I guess what I've learned is this: Go ahead and get married to your early 30-something mate with confidence. Chances are, they’ve already slept with some unlikely people, owned a convertible or huge SUV, drastically changed their hair color or reduced overall body hair, splurged on (and maybe slept with) a personal trainer, made a few wildly irresponsible purchases, and figured out exactly who they were trying to be. Mid life should be a breeze.

i shall now mount my soapbox OR some words of advice for tourists

after having lived in new york long enough to: know the subway system; understand where not to be after dark or ever; talk a cabbie into chauffering my large dog on several occasions; be victimized by the vile saliva of an angry homeless man; stop thinking of dave chapelle every time i say the word "bodega"; realize that i am, in fact, nuts for nuts; accept that there is no such thing as a 40 hour work week here; overcome my inclination that pretty restaurants serve the best food; been momentarily a scenester and then decidedly not; come to have a fondness for the sound of my hissing radiator; catch a mouse in a rolled up poster; witness the third-world conditions of coney island restrooms; swear off grocery store produce; become friends with people through nonverbal communication as neither of us speak the other's language; know where the free stuff happens and when to get it; swear my eternal loyalty to trader joe's wine store; love temping; hate temping; have a fabulous-on-paper-job; quit said fabulous-on-paper-job; temp some more; curse temping; temp some more; get a second not-so-great-on-paper-job; have my picture in a store window in time's square; have my picture taken by getty images backstage at a fashion show in a couture dress in which i could barely breathe, then get a free cab ride home and realize that the only person i enjoyed talking to all night was my cabdriver peter from russia; get over feeling helpless and scared, realize that chasing pigeons is not and was never funny, and come to appreciate my hometown in a way that wouldn't be possible if i were still there...

i feel that i am qualified to explain why new yorkers are often misconstrued as rude and callous people.

let this be a cautionary blog to any of you who plan to visit this great city.

it's simple. visitors unwittingly mangle the commute of the locals.

follow these rules and it'll be smooth sailing for you and yours.

1. if in need of directions, do not call out "excuse me!" to a passing new yorker. they will think you want money or will waste their time. be direct. right to the point. begin with the question. you will have more success this way.

2. out then in. if you're waiting for an elevator, a subway, or are headed inside, always let people out first. this is a surprising problem.

3. if you are going to walk around, slack jawed, staring at the pretty buildings, do so in designated slack-jaw-areas. i believe in wyoming, they refer to this as "gaping." gaping is perfectly acceptable in times square, rockefeller center, the theatre district, the empire state building, the statue of liberty, and the like. when not in these areas, do your best to keep with the pace of traffic.

4. sidewalks are the highways and biways of most new yorkers. the right-left rule still applies for the most part. do not stop abruptly. do not turn on a dime. be mindful when merging- glance over your shoulder. watch out for bike messengers, as they believe they are immune to all rules of the road.

should i think of any more guidelines, i'll be happy to post them with haste.

in my opinion, new yorkers are some of the warmest, most approachable people in the world. just don't make them slam on their breaks and you should be just fine.

my life as a montage OR this week's playlist

merry happy...kate nash
who am i kidding...winterkids
one evening...feist
knock 'em out...lily allen
me plus one...annie anniemal
something to talk about...badly drawn boy
ah leah...donnie iris
elected...inouk
heartbeats...the knife
if i ever feel better...phoenix
ratatat...seventeen years
chicago...sufjan stevens
arrivals gate...ani difranco
biomusicology...ted leo and the pharmacists

scooters,vacation,fall

i wonder if this weighs 21 grams.

http://cgi.ebay.com/IM-SELLING-MY-SOUL-ON-EBAY_W0QQitemZ150081765407QQihZ005QQcategoryZ1467QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem

...and notice that a bid has been placed.