Lace It Up Baby, Tie It In A Knot

If you must know, I am quite pleased that the last day of January is finally upon us. This has been a month that has been dragging on and on and on and on, and given the extreme cold of winter, I've been looking forward to even just saying it's February. I know it realistically doesn't change anything, but mentally I think I'll feel a little better. And truthfully, I got stuff to do 2013, let's get going! I've got a great birthday in the works and this awesome thing called Coachella. Ever heard of it? It's in Coachella.

Today I had a half day to run a lot of errands. It's chilly and very, very windy, but I finished early and was able to go through Central Park for a solid half hour. With a Starbucks, and a book, and a very empty lakeside, it was a nice time of quiet.

And that view didn't hurt anything either.

So. This Is Brooklyn.

As promised, Saturday was my rock climbing adventure. I've been to Crooklyn/ Brokelyn/ Brooklyn more times than I can count, but everytime I emerge from the subway I just love to say "So. This is Brooklyn" a la Rachel Green from this clip below...! (It happens at the 0:05 mark but just FYI the entire clip is totally worth your time!)



I was coming from a class in Chelsea and got to the rock climbing place a little early. It's a converted... something, I don't know, garage?

I was meeting a friend of a friend who is a member at the gym and once she showed up she helped get me set up with the waiver and shoes and then we changed (and this was the fantastic dressing room door I got.)

The place was actually pretty awesome. It's a huge open gym with boulders and walls and bridges and inclines and it's warm and they just have good music blaring (I mean, it is Brooklyn...!) My friend showed me how to read the wall paths and find the trails that would be easiest for me to do, we chalked up our hands and went for it.

The only thing that really sucked was how crowded that place was!!! It was intimidating to be rock climbing as a newbie but everyone waiting for their turn just staring at you. Still, I liked it. I liked the mental challenge of finding where to do next, and I liked the physical aspect of it, I liked being able to move in a different way, and I really feel like I got a work out. (My forearms are still pretty sore today!) The only thing that bothers me is how these Park Slope Brooklyn hipsters don't have a sense of humor! At the base of all the walls are huge gymnastics mats, naturally, to cushion all the falls. I did a particularly tricky route (for me!) and was excited when I reached the top that I just sort of jumped down instead of climbing down. Well, I nailed that landing, so what else was there to do but salute the judges (aka other people) a la gymnastics landing



...and no one seemed amused. Welp. Have a nice life!

After a couple of hours of mountain climbing, we walked the miserably icy walk to the subway but stopped in for a round of drinks at a cozy tapas-type bar. And yesterday I was so productive around the house, you would have thought I was on some sort of drug. But I wasn't.

Odds and Ends

The long and the short of life lately: IT. IS. COLD.

Just about all this week I've been waking up to weather anywhere from 10-19 degrees. When I walked to the elementary school to read to my girl on Wednesday, I only had about five blocks to go, but I almost couldn't make it. I almost needed to stop into a store on the way to warm up. That wind is just killer.

Last night after diving, we had to walk (as usual) a bit of a hike to the subway, and then from the subway to my place, it made for a solid 20 minutes of walking. I was as bundled as could be, but considering you still need to see and breathe, my face was exposed. I was damp from the diving, and it was literally 16 degrees and there was a wind, and it turns out my face got... cold burnt? Frostbitten? I don't know, but my face has been warm, and my cheeks are stained pink, my skin is all patchy and sensitive. From a simple 20 minutes of walking! Who can really concentrate on much else when it's that cold outside?

In other news, I'm going rock climbing (indoors!) in Brooklyn tomorrow? This will be a blast from 6th grade science camp past!

Artists Helping Artists

If you don't think even the most insignificant of your decisions can ripple through history, here's a sign that maybe they can?

It started with a Manhattan in July 2008. I was invited to a high school friend's surprise birthday party, and there remains 3 memorable pictures from that night, one of which is a group shot with the birthday boy holding a drink in a martini glass. I always wondered about that when I looked at it later. I figured someone had just bought it for him as a joke. A summer or two ago, said friend and I were talking and I showed him this picture again and made fun of him and his "appletini" to which he corrected me: "It's a Manhattan and it's straight bourbon!" After that, I looked out for men with Manhattans... including, in my usual bar.

One evening last spring, I was talking with the bartender while he mixed up a cocktail and I asked him what he was making. He told me he was making a Manhattan. I asked who ordered it, and he pointed to the dark booth closest to the door, where a man was bent over scattered canvases and paint brushes and working on a small 5x7 painting. The bartender explained to me that this man always ordered Manhattans, and always painted the same picture, and as it turned out, it was true.

If this guy was in the bar when I was there, he was always in the same booth, always with a Manhattan drink placed precariously close to the edge of the table and always bent over what looked like replicas of the exact same painting. If this sounds familiar, it may be because you've seen the French film Amelie and remember the old man character who worked tirelessly to try to recreate Renoir's Luncheon of the Boating Party.

I always thought that it was so endearing, that I had found my own Monsieur Dufayel, and used to love to tell that anecdote to people. Well it happened to come up with said friend with the Manhattan, who thought it was the best thing ever (probably just to know there was another man in the world ordering Manhattans) and asked me to buy a painting for him. I kept it in the back of my mind.

Last Friday was a going away party for a coworker at the bar, which meant I was a few rounds of beers and darts in when I saw the artist working on his pieces in his dim booth. I figured there was no time like the present and I approached him, introduced myself, told him I admired him and his work, and asked if I could buy one off of him. He was really taken aback. I was surprised he didn't just hand one over to me for $20 on the spot. We talked for awhile about his project and what he was doing, he was very polite and nice but he did seem attached to all the pieces and I realized I probably wasn't going to get one out of him. I apologized for interrupting, since I understood how frustrating it could be to be interrupted when you are inspired. He asked if I was also an artist. I said "um... I write?" He said he would think about selling me one, because he had never imagined someone would ask, and gave me his information to find him online, so I told him I was a regular and would see him around and left him with my card.

On Tuesday morning I came in to work an email from the artist. He said that he was flattered by my admiration and had a proposition for me. He directed me to his art space and studio that he was working with, as well as his personal website for his artistry, and since I was a writer, asked if I would want to write a journalistic piece on this project, because he wasn't good with words and needed an article to submit for publication to garner interest in the eventual showcasing of the work. He would even start a new piece specially for me that I could follow the evolution of to be able to write about and that I could keep when it was over.

I am stoked at the opportunity to be a part of something I feel connected with already (I've watched him work on this for a loooong time) and the motivation to produce a good piece for publication that would help him, and that I get a piece of in the end as well. I don't know, but I thought it was the neatest little artistic opportunity.

If my friend hadn't had a Manhattan that July night, it might not have been in that picture, and I might not have noticed it later, made fun of him for it, learned what it was, noticed when I saw them, or cared who at my bar had ordered it, and finally not have received this unique opportunity to collaborate...!

"We're Following the Drag Queens"

This has been the longest week of my life, and no I wouldn't necessarily consider myself a dramatic person, why do you ask? When my coworker invited me out with her and her friends yesterday, I was really on the fence. I kinda just felt like going home and sleeping and recovering. But, per usual, when it came down to it, I didn't feel like just going straight home, so I decided to join for one drink. (You can see where this is going.)

We go down to the Greenwich Treehouse, a very unpretentious and quirky bar in the Village, where I grab us a round and meet her friends. I was blown away immediately by how nice they all were. Usually as the new one in a group you stay on the sidelines, contribute occasionally, and need to feel the group out first. (Or maybe this is my rule since I can be so sarcastic, I have to watch myself, it doesn't come off well too strong in new settings.) But they were SO GREAT. I felt like I had hung out with them before, they were all asking my opinion on things in their conversations, incorporating me into all the discussions and really engaged in things I had to contribute. They were so friendly! So that's how one round turned into two... plus a round of kamikaze shots.

There was talk of relocating, so I figured I would head to the subway when they went somewhere new... until they said they wanted to go find a place to dance. WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY SO?! So naturally I stayed on. Plus, we were already in the Village, it was just too easy.

Someone looked up and found a dance place with no cover, but when we went there, it did have a cover due to a live band. I started to think things were just going to disintegrate cause everyone got discouraged, until someone piped up "This way!" and led us across 6th Avenue in the rain "We're following the drag queens!" and that's when I knew, yes, this was going to be a good night.

We followed those drag queens right into a bar in the West Village near the Stonewall Inn, where tequila came out and we found our way downstairs to their superawesome dance floor scene. It was a giant winding staircase going down and the wall was all paneled mirrors and downstairs everything was mirrors and neon lights, silver streamers and a big opened floor. The DJ was kickin with house mixes and Eurostyle music, and we got to dance our little hearts out and it was SO GRATE! (Not a typo-- Bruno reference.) I was surprised by how fun my coworker was and how great her friends were.

I'll try to end the story there instead of bringing us all to tears with the saga of my awful trek home, and how the 7 train is under construction and I had to take 3 trains to a junction and wait half an hour for a train that never came and walked 15 blocks home in heels. Ugh. I was le misérable, where's my oscar?! But until that time, fabulous Friday night.

Les Trois Misérables

For 2013, Ronnie, Betsy and myself aimed to continue our monthly Family Dinners, which means the 3 of us get together for some sort of food (usually some weird combination-concoction Ronnie dreams up) and some sort of movie (generally trashy straight-to-video teen girl films chosen by Ronnie), but we opted for another route this time and we went to see Les Misérables before dinner together.

I was not a fan of the movie. Hugh Jackman and Russell Crowe's singing was as awkward as it sounds, and them singing every last word was so unnecessary. It was actually music to my ears when they actually spoke anything (which was almost never) and it was just dragging on and on and it just didn't make sense as a movie to me, I really think it's a stage production. But whatever. We bitched over it at a sushi restaurant across the street. They were really thinking about the audience when they titled that thing.

Yesterday on the wintry walk across the campus from the subway on my way in to work, I had my headphones in and I saw a guy who was definitely not a student just standing there with another guy start talking to me. I was going to just ignore him because it was obvious I hadn't heard him, but I stopped and took a headphone out and asked him to repeat himself.

He asked me if I wanted breakfast.

Not, would you like to go get breakfast, or, can I buy you breakfast, but, would I like breakfast? I was really baffled and thought maybe he was offering it to me as if he had leftovers, or maybe I looked hungry and he was going to direct me to a soup kitchen, so I had to say "Oh I just bought food, but thank you," he said okay and let me on my way. I am still confused what that was, but if it was a pick-up line, it is still at LEAST second after "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair..."

Left Right WINNER!

Here I am back in New York and I have to say that it was quite the accomplished trip home. For one, I came back with three times the amount of Trader Joe's Candy Cane Joe-Joe's than I had before (thank you to my mom, my dad and Aunt JoAnn!!) and secondly, because I FINALLY WON LEFT RIGHT CENTER!! I immediately wrote it on my bucket list and then crossed it off. What a dream come true!

What can I say other than my time was chock-full of friends, family, memories and fun. I got to see everyone I set out to see, and more. It's a lot to re-hash, so in times like these, I like to express myself in pictures:

Meeting baby Izaak for the first time!

Making my "famous" bacon-wrapped asparagus whilst drinking an Uncle Carl

Look at the intensity in our game!

Typical photoshoot

Photoshoot continued

The other side of the family's Christmas gathering

Kathleen's Pikachu graveyard where I slept most nights

Cuddling with little Zug-Zug

My best friend's two-year-old baby James

My best friend's three month old daughter Chloe

A beautiful night in Riverside: dinner, drinks, and the sights

...like the Mission Inn with lights!

Ahh the Mission Inn

The Mission Inn

Can you tell it's still the Mission Inn?

Visiting friends in LA

Contemplating my next move for Jenga!

My New Year's Eve at a friend's house in San Diego

Pickleback shots on the last day of 2012!

My New Year's Day was spent in and around San Diego, including the harbor 

...and the Gaslamp

The Inland Empire looking more beautiful than ever

And the love of my Californian life... DEL TACO!!!

As usual, leaving was quite hard. I took a red eye on Wednesday night which actually I quite enjoyed. The airport was empty, security a breeze, the flights quiet and restful and very fast! The problem was getting in at 5:30a.m., hitting morning rush hour on the subway with a broken suitcase and 25 degree weather. You can imagine that I was not exactly the radiating glow of cheerful energy at work that I might usually be. I actually had a breakdown in the back room where some co-workers found me and in their attempt to comfort me, somehow came to their own conclusion that I was upset about turning another year older in two and a half months. It was so off-kilter and ridiculous to me it actually made me laugh and I didn't bother to correct them.

All I'm gunna say is... if it's going to be so cold, can we at least have snow?! Can't wait for that Irish party I'm planning with my bar friends! Vive le New York!