Si Se Puede! Change We Can Believe In!

I'm a changed man. Erika left me on Saturday morning for a multitude of reasons. Most of them are my fault, but one of them is because we are going to be god-parents in a few weeks and I cracked under the pressure, letting her fly down to Peru on her wonderful $200 round-trip ticket and leaving me all by my lonesome. Fear not, however, because I am going to be joining her down there on my $200 round-trip ticket in a week or so. I'm looking forward to the party, the culture, the food, and the vacation! I've got the speech that she wrote in front of me and hopefully I will be able to memorize it before the trip, though I'm sure I'll be reciting it after a few rounds of the shared pixie cup of beer so I have little faith that I'll be able to remember it without my cheat sheet.

But, really, I'm a changed man! I've decided that I need to prioritize some things in my life, including my focus on learning better Spanish. I've started up on my Pimsleur Spanish CDs again - which are amazing, by the way. Sucky commute got you singing the blues? Change the channel and pop these guys in your car's CD player and you'll be golden. I used to listen to one lesson on the way to work and then listen to it again on the way home just to make sure it sinks in. I actually discovered that it's not too difficult to get going with because most of the terms you first learn are pretty well known. OK, enough advertising for CD's that I can provide to anybody free of charge. To take my lessons a step further, I attended a free Spanish Conversation Group down at the NY Public Library last night. I was really nervous, thinking about a giant room full of people, most of whom were probably more or less fluent that just wanted to practice a little. I was surprised to find that there were only about seven people in the group and that I wasn't half bad compared to them. It was a nice confidence booster.

Seriously though, I'm a changed man! I bought some new running shoes recently and after a day of lonesome reflection after dropping Erika off at the airport, I decided that I'm going to train for a triathalon. It's more like a try-athalon, though. And it will be like an eXtreme sports version of it. I've already got the spin classes on my regular schedule and on Sunday I decided to hit the streets with my new shoes and go explore the rustic, polluted, and industrial parts of Astoria along the power plants and the East River with a 3.5K jog. I didn't do too bad, though my legs are killing me to this day and my whole body is sore from my legs all the way up to my head with some screaming neck muscles. I plan on incorporating more jogs into my schedule and have even considered jogging home from work, which would only be about a 30 minute job for me.

I'm most excited about the last exercise that completes my triathalon training. I've been tossing around the idea of getting a bike to ride to work, except that I have no place to put it and arriving at work as a sweaty mess just doesn't fit my image - though I wouldn't be totally out of place among the nerds at work.

But! I have rollerblades at home still! I haven't used these things since I moved from Manhattan, but couldn't just toss them since they are a decent enough pair with newish wheels. I decided that on Monday, I would jam the blades into my backpack and take them to work with me and see if I could find a decent route home with them on.

First of all, have you ever changed at work? I dunno about you, but I have a major complex when it comes to changing at work. Maybe it violates the separation of work and personal life that I strive to maintain on a daily basis. I feel almost naked when I come out of the bathroom with shorts and a t-shirt on. I've got to work on that some more and learn to lift the shoulders up (and suck the belly in :o/) and try to hide the pit stains on my grungy undershirts while I try to make a quick getaway.

In any case, I made it to the street where I mounted my twin pair of horses onto my feet. I realized that I left my insoles at home, which meant that my balance would be all messed up. Or maybe I'm just using that as an excuse for why I was flailing all over the first couple of streets with cars honking behind me. Come on, it's been three years, gimmeabreak. Plus, the only place I used to roll in the city were in Central Park with it's meticulously maintained outer-rim road that provided me with lots of room to fly and launch off jumps.

Well, Queens is no Central Park, that's for sure. True to it's industrial image, the streets are lined with gravel, the decrepit sidewalks are more or less poorly maintained, there are no street sweepers off the major routes, and the roads are lined with chop shops and auto mechanics that love to drip oil all over the place, making me look like a car in that old video game that hits the oil slicks. Plus, the road along the water, with surprisingly clearly marked bike routes, were pitted, uneven, and full of little rocks that tore up my virgin wheels. It was great! This route is clearly going to be challenging to master, but this spring I am going to have a go at it and see if I can manage to survive.

After blading home yesterday, I decided that my suffering legs needed a stretch so I did a little jog around the hood and through the lovely sculpture park, where people like to unleash their dogs and minks. Wait, WTF? Somebody let their mink/weasel thing off the leash and it was just hopping alongside them in the park. That was the weirded thing that I've seen since I saw somebody taking their monkey for a walk in SoHo one time. At least with a pet mink you can skin it and make a nice neck lining for your coat....

Easter was pretty depressing around here, what with Liverpool failing to qualify for next year's Champion's League, Erika having a family reunion and making chicharron with a whole pig at home with people that traveled 16 hours on a Peruvian bus just for lunch, my family having a family reunion in California with various liquor concoctions and Brie undoubtedly getting drunk, and with me reading a book about a girl who's jailed and tortured in Iran as a political prisoner. At least the weather was brilliant! What a happy day :o) !!

J. Riley, remind me to bring my bike helmet back with me from California. I'd rather prevent my head from meeting the gravel on these dangerous commutes home!

In An Effort To Catch Up....

For once, I've actually been too busy to blog! Let's see, what's going on around here:

• In an effort to become cultured, we decided to go see a ballet at the NYC Ballet, which was also Erika's (belated) Valentine's Day present. As much as I mockingly "ooohhhed" and "awwwwwed", I couldn't really get into it. I'm not really sure what to look for when they are prancing and dancing around the stage. Some of it was cool, but I have a feeling that it has a lot to do with the classical music that the orchestra is playing. Classical. You know, that extremely cranial music style that people force their kids to listen to in order to increase their intelligence. Obviously, I didn't have that kind of training and clearly don't understand how to "interpret" the music like some of my neighbors at the ballet! But it was fun - considering I had a nice little discount. 
• In an effort to become dehydrated, Paul and I visited the Russian Turkish Bath House. Despite the name, it's not a typical "bath house" that you would think exists in liberal NYC. In any case, my skin got as crispy as the porchetta sandwich that we enjoyed afterwards while we went between seven different saunas and steam rooms with a dips in an ice pool in between. Not only that, but we got to enjoy a public beating with a bushwhacking (literally) Russian who beat us down with oak branches/leaves in the Russian sauna. The oak leaves apparently open your pores even more, which was clearly the case as my skin was synged and fried by the time I was done. Throw in some warm water, a soapy paint brush (olive-oil soap!), and (what felt like a ) a bejewled, Michael Jackson-style,  glove that rubbed the complete epidermis off of my back (and scabbed up a few of my moles :o/ ), and the "platza" massage was a wrap! 
• In an effort to explore Brooklyn and some of what's on offer,we enjoyed some legit Trinidadian food in Crown Heights/Bed-Stuy at Trini-Gul, which was recommended to me by a guy I know from Grenada. We tried out some tasty roasted goat that was coated in spices from the islands, some curry potatoes, and a "bake and shark", which was like a fried pita bread with breaded and fried shark meat. And some of the hottest hot sauce I've ever had the pleasure of trying! 
• In an effort to check out the highly-acclaimed Brooklyn Museum (by said Grenadian), we met up with some of Erika's classmates and teachers for a Target First Saturday. Free entrance to the museum with some Haitian music that clearly was influenced by similar cultures as Brazilian samba music and, later, a full on party on a massive dance floor in the middle of a museum. It would have been awesome to hang out at, except for the fact that my feet were killing me because my latest Pumas don't exactly use comfort as one of their stand-out features and we had been walking around since 2:00pm. The next event is on my calendar for May, however, and I will attend and I will dance!
• In an effort to finally let Erika see some of the touristy sites in the city, in particular from 67 floors up, we hit the Top of the Rock up last Sunday. The view from there isn't as impressive as from the observatory on the Empire State Building, with the exception of the fact that you can actually see the Empire State Building from there. The weather was crystal clear, spring-like, and there was absolutely no crowd or line at the entrance.
• In an effort to enjoy a Snow Day (when I get to work from home), For one of the first times we ventured out into the fresh powder at our local sculpture park on the river, armed with a camera and some waterproof boots. It was pretty nice since it was dead quiet, nobody was in the park, and it just kept on snowing. We built a nice little snow man until I started not being able to feel my hands. I'll that one to the list for next winter - if I'm still here! 
• In an effort to use my Justin-branded urban cowboy boots, we met up with Paul and Jeff to enjoy some boot-stompin', ass kickin' hipster bluegrass music downtown. We had seen the Hackensaw Boys a few years back and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. This time around was good because I got to take a picture with my favorite member of the band, but they were missing their redneck percussionist (who now lives in California, ironically) who used to play the spoons, pots, pans, metal trash-can lids, etc. 

J. Riley, not much going on on the IVF front right now, except that I am now coming to realize that doctor's do not like to have any liability with this kind of stuff!

We've Got Worms

Actually, they are more like visitors. After not having anyone visit me in the last few years after the initial rush, Summer and Mom & Dad have all visited us in lovely Astoria. Now, we've got Vas confirmed on a flight to come here for a week during Thanksgiving (my second Thanksgiving since I've been here, and my first where I can actually eat solid food) and on Saturday, Leif said "Hey what are you doing next weekend? I think me and my girlfriend will fly out to visit next week if you're around!" Uhhh...OF COURSE! It's about time! Anyone else? I would love to have to actually put a calendar to use to fill the vacancies on our futon!

If you're thinking about visiting us anytime soon, it is probably better for you to consider coming sooner rather than later because we've been having some interesting conversations in our household lately. Specifically, around the thoughts of the option to move to the Cincinnati region. WTF? I don't even know if it is an option, but I think that it may be. It won't be happening anytime soon, but you really just never know. For once in my life, I'm trying to think long term, but at the same time trying to appreciate the now and thinking about everything in between...

This past weekend, I was a volunteer at a kids soccer coaching clinic up in Harlem. It sounded like the perfect kind of gig for me, inspiring youths to take up the beautiful game and eschew other lame American sports like American Football ;o). It had so much promise, but it was actually one of the worst volunteer experiences I've had. Not because the kids weren't awesome, because they were. More so because the volunteers had a penchant for proving to everyone that they were awesome soccer players. Bragging about the position they played, how they used to take penalty kicks, and kicking the ball as hard as they could at the teenage goalkeepers, while "playing" with the under-10 kids.And the two teenage goalkeepers were so inspired to prove that they were awesome that they would block every single kick anytime one of the little kids tried to kick the ball. Clearly, there were some egos that needed to be massaged. It was definitely not about the kids, and that's just lame. By the way, I have a hard time just kicking the ball without falling down, so I certainly didn't have any point to prove to anyone :)!

Today I brought in awesome bagels from the local bagelria to work as part of the October birthday celebrations that we have. At the coordinator's request, I bought two dozen, plus the bagelria gave me four extra for free. There's only like 12 people in my group, so it was clearly a ridiculous amount of massive, warm bagels, so I thought I'd give one to the homeless guy begging for money on the subway stairs. He looked at me and said "I don't want THAT!" I said okay and put it back in the bag before he said "Fine, I'll take it". Yo, man, don't do me any favors just because you can't buy booze with a freakin warm, delectable bagel!

J. Riley, Vas and Susyash, I haven't seen any blogs in the required time, so this will continue to be the short feeds. You scratch some words on your blog, and I'll scratch mine! I'm waiting....

Dishing Out the Truth About Ikea

First off, congratulations to Summer on her accomplishment! 

Last year before I moved into my new apartment, I went on a mad shopping spree to buy stuff for my apartment - you know the essential stuff like a futon, a table, dishware, energy-saving lightbulbs, etc. It was my first experience, but I was amazed at how cheap the stuff was there and, really, how some of the stuff is actually pretty decent quality. The "silver"ware has been great. Despite finding some phantom screws underneath it, nobody has sat on the futon and crashed to the floor (where the hell did those screws come from, anyway?), and even the dishware has been surprisingly sturdy and shatter-resistant (despite my utter clumsiness and lack of a grip with my rubber gloves on while washing them).

So imagine my surprise when yesterday I discovered the following....ON THE SAME DAY, within hours of each other:

• A large chip off the edge of one of my big plates
• A small microscopic chip (though surely capable of giving me a bloody lip, I'm sure) off the edge of one of my glasses.
• A crack on the handle of one of my mugs. 

I'm certain that these things weren't there the day before. I have no option but to judge Ikea dishware like I judge Chrysler transmissions: they should come with a "Best if used by" date. In this case, 1.5 years or 400 hand-wash cycles, which ever comes first.

It's been an exciting week and half since we last talked. I had my birthday party at the German beer garden, which went off exceptionally well and without anybody getting arrested for dancing on the tables or other drunk and disorderly conduct. The place was surprisingly packed by about 6:30 on a Friday night, which is just way too early. I guess the hipsters living off their trust funds don't really have to go to work, so they just leave their artist studios when they feel like drinking liters of beer on the first night of Oktoberfest. But I digress (and mock).

We engaged in a battle with a neighboring group for control of one of the large "beer banken" and eventually won when their soldiers started standing and loitering, at which point we flanked their position and gained the high ground so that all of our soldiers could settle in for the evening with hard tack (also known as tasty sausages, fries, and an assortment of delectable mustards [thanks Paul!!]), beverage sharing, and jovial music. Have I been reading too many Civil War novels since Gettysburg? The beer garden was great, although it might have been a little too "hip" for me and despite the genuine beverages and food, I think I prefer the aura of the Czech beer garden in Astoria a bit more for a regular visit. But it was a nice change of scenery for a Birthday.

This past weekend was an interesting one. It started off the way the best weekends always start off - with an evening full of movies ("Che II" in this case) and technical support! Nana got herself a shiny new computer and despite an initial setback of "Boot device not found" (not something that you want to see ever, especially the first time you boot up your computer) Frata quickly mastered English with an Indian accent and then the art of the computer's innards and they had the computer up and running and ready for system restoration from Your's Truly's Technical Support (highly recommended, by the way. Look them up). I got mischievous and accidentally disconnected myself from my Teamviewer remote access to their computer, but I got everything working by Sunday.

Saturday we enjoyed a few hours of Bachata and Merengue classes (look out sketchy Jackson Heights discos!) followed by a downpour and a road trip to Trader Joe's to stockpile our food for the next few days (chips)/weeks (cheese)/months ($0.67 beers). At night, we were graciously invited to check out the Royal Manhattan Triumvirate's (that would be Paul, Cathy, and D) favorite singer Brandi Carlile - live and in concert at the visually and acoustically beautiful Beacon Theater. A highlight of the performance that only someone like my dad could truly appreciate was when the whole band moved to the front of the stage, in front of the monitors and sound equipment, and performed a song that the entire theater could hear christal-clear. The show was very impressive and I give Paul, Cathy, and D a thumbs-up on their musical tastes after that show!

J. Riley, and now, back to my regularly scheduled activities of reading Civil War novels (I'm on the Last Full Measure after reading Killer Angels) and studying up on my 2010 health and welfare benefits.

Another Year, Another Beer Garden

See what I did there? I love Google Reader, but I also love seeing my hit counter go up on the blog - self gratification or something like that. So now you have to click on the blog link from Reader to read it all. If I could add a link to Facebook to do the same (rather than posting the whole blog), I would do the same thing - force people to click on the link, increase my counter by one, and increment ye old counter.

Anyway, as everyone knows (thanks to Facebook), it's my birthday on Friday. Strange, I never really celebrated my birthday much during adolescence or college, but I enjoy doing something here in New York.
I think my first out-of-body/outer-borough experience was on my birthday, when I visited the (now local) Czech beer garden. I remember it well....Susannah was too cool to come on time and arrived just before we were leaving and all my friends except Melissa bailed on me just because I wanted to go dancing at some non-reputable Polish disco in dirty Greenpoint. But I'm not still bitter about that! ;o)

Well, I'll turn a new year in a few days, so I've turned a new leaf and will be going to Radegast in the hipster safe-haven of Billyburg for this year's birthday. Having a birthday that is around the day that Oktoberfest commences is a great benefit (and so is having a Name Day around the start of the summer). So all you New Yorker friends of mine, I expect to see you on Friday night next to me with a liter of German beer in one hand and a bratwurst in your other! Whether I decide to go back to the nearby Polish disco or not remains to be determined!

Just a note: how not to celebrate my birthday (yes, this is how my cube looked when I came back from lunch. This will be removed tomorrow morning):

J. Riley, my foam mattress topper arrived today (finally)!!!

The Gettysburger and Turkish Delight

This past weekend marked my parent's third trip out to New York to visit - but their first visit since I've lived outside of Manhattan. It was also going to be an interesting trip since they've seen the museums and the typical tourist stops and also because my mom wanted to drive through "the country" and see some landscapes, which would be the....second time I've made a trip outside of Manhattan since I arrived on these shores six years ago (slight exaggeration, but not by much).

My parents arrived Friday evening after a looong day of flying delayed - and feeling quite famished. Apparently, Delta's low-cost flights are self-subsidized by charging for the food and for "extra baggage" (i.e. everything not carried-on). We put that issue to bed by feeding them with a taste of Astoria: my famous (in my household of two) Harissa Spaghettini along with fresh, soft whole wheat pita breads and hummus - which I knew mom would love since she's a big fan of Greek food. Apparently they weren't kidding when they said they were famishes since we nearly polished off two pounds of whole wheat pasta between the four of us.

From there on out, we were non-stop for four days - although it really didn't seem too rushed. Let's break it down, bullet-point style...

New York:

• We woke up at the Haines/Salazar household version of the "butt-crack of dawn" for a Saturday - sometime around 8:00am - in order to fit our busy schedule into the day.
  
• Naturally, this started off with a mouthful of carbohydrates from the place that I consider to have the best bagel in New York - Brooklyn Bagel and Coffee Co., right here in Astoria. We were running late for the next planned event though, so we grabbed our bagelwiches and jauntied down to the subway - destination Union Square.
  
• We had a game to catch! It's been eons since I've made the road trips down to the 11th Street Bar to watch a Liverpool game, and dad was pretty stoked on trying one on for size, while the girls were perfectly happy to peruse the stores in Union Square rather than cram into the jam-packed bar at 10:00am. And, being one of the most important games of the season so far, it was a good day to be among Kopites as the Everton jeers were silenced by a 4-0 pounding of Burnley. I introduced dad to the folklore of the game, the stories and biographies behind the players, and the play-by-play & strategies of the game. I think dad has been converted ;o). The girls also scored with a hat-trick of their own by identifying plenty of things that they wanted to pick up the next day during their shopping blitzkrieg.
• We had no time to spare when we stopped for a brief grab and go lunch at Rice, because we had a Big Onion tour of NoLIta and SoHo to take. We were introduced to the cast-iron facade architecture of beautiful SoHo, the history of the buildings, and the location of 18th-century brothels before wandering over to the "other" St. Patrick's church to marvel at in NoLIta. It was a bit of a crowded tour considering the location, but it was interesting nonetheless.
  
• After marveling at Manhattan's first skyscraper (the Flatiron Building) and dropping of some papers in Chelsea, we slowed down and stopped to smell the flowe...-ing sewage at a small cafe to get our caffeine and sugar fix to keep us going. We didn't have much of a schedule to work off of at this point, so we loitered around, checked out furniture and the mattresses at Macy's (including the dreamy Tempur-pedic) and then headed off to dinner in Astoria with Shane-the-bitter-blue and Susannah at Mundo.
• Mundo is hot. This place serves crazy delicious Argentine and Turkish-influenced food that Susannah and Shane are willing to travel an hour for. The place just has a really friendly vibe and the Argentine host (his name is Willie, apparently) is an expert in all things Astoria. We dined on delicious conversation, platefuls of sultry food, and several pitchers of sangria before we decided to try a recommended night-cap at the nearby (and recently opened) Sweet Afton, which was packed at the early hour that we arrived. Willie highly recommended the Red Lemonade and he was on the money with that one. It was like drinking...red lemonade, except it lit you up pretty quick - just ask my mom ;o) !
• On Sunday, we slept in a bit and had a lazy morning, although it could have been more lazy after our second experience at hidden brunch-spot Elo. Erika and I had experience at this place with Summer and this time around wasn't much better. Last time, we waited almost an hour for the Sunday morning chef to show up before we bailed and this time wasn't much better. The food was solid, but nothing to write home about (except in a blog). Note-to-self: don't bother getting their til noon for brunch because the chef doesn't bother getting there until then either.
• The only location that we had scheduled to visit was picturesque Fort Tryon and the Cloisters. After a long and un-fruitfull walk through the LES to buy Teany tea (closed due to a fire), dad and I decided to stop into the newly opened (!!!) Topman in SoHo. I've browsed their website, but I didn't have any idea that they would open a US location until it was spotted on our tour the day before. It's a great place for a little Fort Tryon of our own - shoes! I've been looking for some new dual-purpose shoes to replace my aging Euro-pumas and I scored a pair for my birthday - but not before dad found a pair of Euro-treaded Plimsolls of his own liking :o).
• To wrap up the day (in Manhattan), we decided to take the train road-trip up to Fort Tryon Park for a walk despite the Cloisters being closed. With such magnificent weather, Fort Tryon was the only place to be with it's lovely views of the Hudson Valley and it's tree-shaded paths. If you've been-there-and-done-that in Manhattan, then it's worth a trip up to this corner of the city for some relaxation.
• One of the benefits of going all the way up to Fort Tryon Park is that you can also take a vaguely interesting tour of Washington Heights and Harlem from the safety of the MTA public buses on your way home. These colorful ethnic communities aren't normally visited by visitors to the city, so it was nice to see them although gentrification is definitely taking it's toll on these out-edges of Manhattan.
  
• The last stop of our day was going to be meeting Susannah at the Bohemian Beer Hall and Garden - definitely a place to stop for reasonable food and fare on a blissfully warm afternoon/evening. They have a whole hosts of beers that we partook in along with burgers, kielbasa, and bratwursts to fill our bellies.

At this point, the next stage of the journey began as my dad and I headed out to Laguardia Airport to pick up a rental car with GPS and everything. Miss Garmin was definitely a worthwhile investment for the trip, though she had some serious issues with airports. She did NOT like to go to Astoria (from Astoria) and did not like to go back to the airport in Astoria (from Astoria). Both trips took at least an hour each, even though upon further review I found that the airport was essentially right down the street from me. Luckily, everything in between was golden with this little beauty.

We didn't know much about what we were in for when we departed at 6:00am on Monday morning for a four hour drive to southern Pennsylvania, other than what dad found on the internet that morning while everyone was waking up and putting on their faces. All we and Miss Garmin knew is that we were heading for the Tourist Visitor Center: Gettysburg.

J. Riley, to be continued....

Parties in the Hood

Erika and I had a nice couple days planned for last weekend. It all started out by making homemade pizzas on Friday night coupled with some movies on a disgustingly humid night. I hadn't made homemade pizzas before, and since I don't have a pizza stone, I wasn't exactly sure how the crust was going to work out. We ended up using whole-wheat pita bread with tomato sauce, a bunch of vegetables, and topped off with cheese. They actually turned out pretty good, as did the movie!

For the weekend, we had some options on the table. We could take a road (train) trip to the beach for one day or we could walk from Central Park to the Brooklyn Bridge on Saturday when they closed down Park Avenue for this purpose. Or we could do both. Or we could do neither. Which we did.

The forecast for Saturday was gloomy. 70% chance of torrential downpour, a light-show in the sky with a booming orchestra, and hot & steamy temperature when it wasn't raining.

Although a five mile walk from the park to the bridge on hot concrete and little shade sounded like pigs in mud, considering the weather we decided to pass on that this time around and instead dedicated the day to the indoors, doing laundry, watching football, and trying to stay dry.

Amazingly, we did stay dry. Probably because it never rained, not even a drop! No lightning, no thunder, nothing. Just hot, humid, disgusting temperatures. By 10:30 at night, I had a case of cabin fever and was cursing the gods for not quenching my thirst for water from the sky. I decided that maybe we should take up Wunderbar, our local German drinking hole, on their offer of drink specials and live music. I figured we could go there, have a delectable, frothy, imported beverage, check out the music scene with the bountiful hipsters, and then retire home to my residence at a reasonable hour.

There's only one problem with going to Wunderbar - it's in the G-to-the-hetto. There's nothing around this place except possibly abandoned warehouses, projects, chop-shops - and a library. I scavenged through my meager belongings and couldn't find a suitable self-defense weapon (my nunchucks were buried somewhere in the back of my closet), so I decided to rely on my awesome capoeira skills and also to wear my running shoes. Because, uhh, you know, I can do the best capoeira jengas with those on. I told Erika to prepare to go to downtown Lima, which means no necklaces, no earrings, no weddings rings, no wallets, etc.

Anyway, we made it safe to the beer hall, I went to the bathroom, Erika got hit on (I believe the term "sausage fest" would be an ideal term for the place), we drank some refreshing liquids that comply with the German beer purity law Rheinheitsgebost, and we downed a savory bratwurst with sauerkraut while trying to shield our ears from the horrendous screaming that came from the rock-band singer's amplified voice. Judging by the increasing number of people that joined us
outside the place, I don't think anyone was left inside by the time the band finished playing. Yikes!

On the way back, we heard something that sounded like Brazilian music outside, which is odd considering there is nothing else around the beer garden. We decided to walk around and try to see where the music was coming from and came across a group of younger people who were walking into a building of some sort. So, we followed them up the stairs like nobody's business and low and behold, we were on the roof of a building where a Brazilian party was going down! We just missed the live music, but a DJ was spinning it up, drinks were being served (due to the above traveling restrictions, I carried no cash), and several barbecues were in effect. It was completely random, but completely awesome at the same time. We hung out there for a while and did some dancing and were completely anti-social as usual, so we decided to head home after a while and see if this is something that was going on every week or what. We found no evidence of this party whatsoever on Google.

J. Riley, and on Sunday, I was so sure that the rain would catch up to us, that we stayed inside. And it didn't rain.

Outer Borough Tour

Last week I was watching the latest No Reservations from Anthony Bourdain, when he was traveling with his crew to Melbourne, the city that I consider "forgotten" in Australia. I really don't know anything about the place, which is why I found this particular episode intriguing. What I didn't realize is that Melbourne is a huge melting pot that he described as the San Francisco of Australia. So he waltzed around sampling the local fare (and tasty beverages) like he typically does on his show and then he hit up a simple, back-street Szechuan restaurant. The food that he had there looked absolutely amazing and loaded with hot chili peppers. He commented that it is hard to find amazing Szechuan Chinese food even in a place like New York, which I mildly scoffed at - until I remembered that I can no longer consider myself a Manhattan snob anymore, considering I am the Jack of Queens (get it?). I have heard about some diverse food out in Flushing, Queens, which sounds like a disgusting place to me. Flushing, as in a toilet. Flushing, as in a part of the sound where all the pollution ends up. Flushing, as in a melting pot to where you can take a $2 shuttle from Manhattan Chinatown to. Wait, what was that?

So, Friday night after work, it was on; destination neighborhood: Flushing; destination cuisine: legit Szechuan Chinese; restaurant name: "Spicy and Tasty"; ethnicities represented in the discovering party: Latina, Gringo, and Indo-Caribbean; number of ethnicites other than Chinese in "Spicy and Tasty": 0. That's right, Erika, Priya, and I landed in a hotbed (pun intended) of spicy and tasty Szechuan cuisine. In Queens. That amazing part about this neighborhood is that I got off on the last stop on the 7 train and was immediately transported to Chinatown's Canal St, only with a few more buses (commuter, not tourist). It was jam packed with a wide variety of ethnicities and there were a ton of places to go eating. This is actually a legitimately sweet neighborhood, I could say.

Spicy and Tasty did not tell a lie about their food. The appetizers were being made at the counter next to the entrance and they were already prepared, so we knew that we were getting the spicy goods that couldn't be watered down like our entrees would be. They produced an inferno for my taste buds, but I couldn't get enough of the bamboo shoots and the bean curd? Amazing. Bean curd, who the hell eats bean curd. I didn't even know what bean curd was, but I couldn't understand what the waitress was saying so I said "yea, we'll take that one". Bean curd is like tofu, except it's more firm and tastes like CHEESE! Awesom stuff, I ate every last sliver of it.

After a dinner of double-cooked pork bellies (like a plate of thick bacon and veggies), spicy shrimp (juicy), and lamb home-style (blazing and succulent), we were all fat and happy and had enough left over to feed us for the next two days. But, being in this neck of the woods, we couldn't just go home without getting some legit boba tea. Question: why is boba tea so expensive? Those tapioca balls can't be that expensive to make, and surely the tea is cheap. Whatever, it's still great to drink and to introduce to the eager-to-try, easy-to-please wife :o).

Next stop: Priya's new apartment in Jackson Heights. Well, technically it's a year old and we visited it last year after she bought it and it was completely empty. And MASSIVE. It's now nicely furnished and is still the biggest one bedroom apartment I've seen in my life and is located in a very charming, historically protected neighborhood where something like 180 languages are spoken. Slightly diverse. Priya is awesome to hang out with and like a true Trini (from Trinidad), she busted out a bottle of quality rum (which was actually from Guayana) to treat us to some stiff rum and cokes. Just the smell of rum brough me back to the days of Bacardi-induced hangovers. But quality liquor never does that to you, so I got to enjoy some risk-free Cuba Libres for the evening. Before we knew it, it was 2:00am and we had to get home since we were planning on exploring Brooklyn the next day (in a blog to be named later). But we have lots of plans for hanging out with Priya this summer, like hitting up some clubs, eating some home-cooked caribbean food, getting her to come to our salsa classes, and drinking some more of that goooood rum!

J. Riley, a $10 taxi ride and we are home!

Summer Starts....Now!

Scientists haven't figured out why yet, but lately I've been....motivated. It's really weird. I am not sure what it was that flipped the switch for me - among other things, it could have been the realization that I will most likely live until I'm only 60, it could have been the wife telling me that I should try to accomplish more things with my plethora of free time, it could be the start of summertime in Astoria, or it could have been the new book that I'm reading that has opened my eyes and my mind to what is there for me to experience.

So on the weekends, I've started exploring my living environment - destination unknown. Well, that's not totally true. Last weekend, out of sheer boredom, I decided that I had to experience an article that I read when I first moved to this hood: The Top 5 Sandwiches in Astoria. Sandwiches? Really? It sounds kind of boring in light of the fact that we live in a crazily diverse area, but I decided that it would be a worthwhile adventure to undertake on a beautiful weekend. Unfortunately, I didn't start until Saturday evening on the 4th of July, so I only got through two of them - last weekend. The first one I hit was the one with the most consonants and the fewest vowels on the list: Cevapdzinica Sarajevo. Apparently Google Maps can't figure out our weird hyphenated addresses any better than me, so it was quite an experience finding this place. Was it worth the journey? Yes, because I got to see a new neighborhood and found some cool looking places to hang out and eat. But the Cevapi were a little bit fatty/greasy for my taste. But at least it was interesting!

The next day, I was going to hit up Sal, Kris & Charlie's Deli on my way to the park after stopping by the office to pick up my sunglasses. On my five minute walk to the office from the bus, I came across a gem among the chop-shops and warehouses that line the roads near my office: A newly opened dance studio that has lessons nightly on Latin dancing! Wholly crap, I had totally been thinking about taking some lessons with Erika when she gets back, and this place is like 5 minutes from work with reasonable rates and probably no customers! More on this later...

So after snatching my glasses, I headed to the deli to get me a monster 'which. I was cracking up because this deli is just that - a typical New York bodega-style deli, but they were packed with customers ordering artery clogging meat between two slices of bread. This thing probably had more calories than I had eaten in a week but, you know, I didn't really care! For the first time, I had a sandwich in my hands that brought me back to the epic meals I used to eat on the weekends in SLO-town during college. I mean, look at this thing!


Anyway, after spending the day basking in the sun and digesting five pounds of processed meat, cheese, and bread, I came home with my next mission in mind. The community college next to my office offers Spanish conversation courses that I neglected to enroll in a few months back due to me being lazy and assuming that I shouldn't have to pay for something that Erika can do for free. I found out how well that worked when I went to Peru last month and was more mute than at any period in the past! So I checked into it again and found that a class that offers two hours of lessons two days a week is going to be starting in August. I figured that I could enroll in Spanish II since I'm not completely hopeless in Spanish, but Erika insists I need to enroll in Spanish I. I guess I should have figured that out after being out of my league in the free classes I took in the past :o/ .

So, this summer is shaping up nicely. I took my first Salsa class last night (free every Thursday night) and, as expected, I was the only student who showed up. This place is fresh off the boat, so that didn't really surprise me. But it turned out to be brilliant - personal classes are normally expensive and I got a lesson customized to me! I was actually surprised at how my limited knowledge of the basic salsa step and rhythm carried over to the moves that I learned. I had an awesome time though and pretty much quadrupled the number of steps and moves that I can break out on the dance-floor now :o). Erika and I will certainly be attending a plethora of these classes starting Sunday!

Of course, I'm going to have to try to fit those classes in between the other events going on this summer, though, such as the free movies in the parks that are starting this week. Free mainstream DVDs in Astoria Park on Monday nights followed by independent foreign films at Socrates park on Wednesday nights. So it looks like Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights are scheduled. We've gotta take Salsa lessons somewhere in between, though!

The J. Riley, taking full advantage of the summer this year!

Twick or Tweet?

So I went and researched my options for getting my next dental adventure (two crowns) done down in Peru. It looks like they will likely cost me about a quarter to half the cost by going to one of the best doctors in Lima, plus my insurance will cover 50% of the work done (even in a foreign country, they'll even translate documents!!), so that will be half of THAT cost! So now I just have to figure out how to get it all done, logistically, and talk with the doctor about some more details (oh yea, he speaks fluent English, of course). I wonder if he'll have the awesome DVD goggles to keep me entertained while he's giving me new teeth....

Summer seems to have arrived - at least it did last weekend. So, we celebrated it in style, starting immediately at 5:00pm on Friday. We headed down to Brooklyn to catch a sushi dinner a theater performance with some friends of ours. I thought it was some nice classical music performance, and it was Bach, which was impressive. It was St. Matthew, the Divine. Ever seen Passion of the Christ? Yea, it was like the movie. Only it was all done in opera style, and there was no acting :o|. Three hours of chorus singing interspersed with solo performances, and only one intermission. Yikes, it was rough. No wonder two of the four of us fell asleep (not me, I survived through it, counting down each minute).

Saturday, we slept in a bit until 9:45, when I had to get up to hook my laptop up to my TV and watch the Liverpool game. There's been some pretty crazy games with them lately, unfortunately not in their favor, but they did the job on Saturday, knocking around the opposition in a 3-1 fashion. Afterwards, Erika went to get her haircut for the first time in the US. Being that we live in a heavily Euro/Brazilian immigrant neighborhood, she got a referral from one of her friends to get her haircut at a super-Euro, Croatian place called Gigi. It was great, full of fashionable gay guys with mohawks, techno music blasting, wine or beverages available to the guests and clients. And, to top it off, Erika got a great haircut and walked out looking like Paula Abdul. Which is not a bad thing!

We had some free time then, and it was hot out, so we decided it would be great to take a mass-transit road trip to check out some beaches. Three subways, one express bus, and two hours later, we ended up at the Far Rockaways, where we were met with cold gusts of wind and NO heat! We were lost in the middle of nowhere after cruising through some serious ghettos to get there. Every other building was either shuttered, an African braid salon, or a laundromat. Thank got I live in Astoria! We got off the bus and started walking and asked a guy we were walking by, "Where's the beach?". Of course, he didn't speak English. Having about seven languages covered between the two of us, we asked him what language he wanted to converse in and he said "Russian". We started doing hand-hyrogliphics and using words like "water", "beach", and "why don't you know English, you live in freakin Far Rockaway!" Anyway, after a very anti-climactic visit to a cold beach, we got back on the local bus and I proceeded to fall asleep until we got back - to Jamaica, Queens (another ghetto-fantastic neighborhood). That's a long ass trip home!

Well, at least there was one positive thing to do on the way home. Since we were taking the E-train home, we got off in Jackson Heights to try to find our Peruvian Restaurant of choice - Pio Pio. There are several elusive restaurants that we tried to find using phone-a-friend, but Jackson Heights is in desperate need for jacksonheights.citysearch.com . We walked all over JH trying to find Pio Pio and ended up really enjoying the neighborhoods there. Big, roomy, historically protected apartments, leafy streets, 182 languages spoken (fact!), more restaurants than you can imagine from more countries than you can imagine, and still relatively close to NYC. I think we decided that if we were going to settle down in the NY area (a BIG if), it would probably be somewhere like JH. A pitcher of sangria and a pollo a la brasa later, we were feeling good, so we got on another bus that took us to the ghettos of Astoria, from where we could walk home and crash after a long day.

Sunday was even hotter than Saturday, reaching a full 90 degrees! It was gorgeous, as was our plan for the day - entertaining out of town Vince by giving him a whirlwind tour of some of what Astoria offers the occasional tourist. Naturally, we started off with pitchers of imported Czech beer at the very popular Czech beer garden. There must have been at least 600 people there with the sun shining through the giant, overhanging Euro trees that provide just enough shade to prevent my chalky skin from changing into a pigment of red. Further stops included a self-proclaimed Greek-fusion restaurant for Greek beer, and a hip burger cafe aptly named Fatty's for some righteous, original burger flavors (that would provide me with 2:30am heartburn) and some fresh German hefe-weissen to whet my whistle (that would provide me with a 9:00pm bedtime).

A glorious weekend it was. And now, onto the subject of this blog. Twitter. Do I need it? No. Really, who cares what I'm doing every day? Who wants to read, "wow, just read an interesting article about industrial espionage" (besides Ryan), or "I just found out that E*Trade is paying 2% on their savings accounts" (besides Cathy and Melissa), or "Sweet, Adriano is going back to Flamengo!" (besides Daniel), or "Stefan just bought a new computer to install Linux on so that I can install an awesome photo album software" (besides Roland), or "Just finished an hour of downward dogs" (besides Paul). Really, do people want to read my "tweets"? If the masses want it, it will come! Comments please....

J. Riley, "just finished writing my blog"

Who Cares if a River Runs Through It!!

You know, the subway can get real boring at 10:00pm on a Saturday night. I took Erika to the airport tonight so she could head back down to Peru. No, I didn't make her take the AirTrain, but only because her bag weighed twice my body weight. But I sure as hell took the AirTrain home and spent the 30 minute subway ride calculating the most efficient way for me to get back home. The most convenient option would be to take the train to my office and then take the bus to my doorstep. But that bus only runs every 30 minutes, so my timing would have to be perfect. Another option would be to take the train to Jackson Heights, transfer to the 7, and then transfer to the N/W to Astoria at Queens Plaza. Or take it to my office, walk five minutes, transfer to the 7 to the N/W to Astoria. All good options.

Watching my watch tick every minute, I calculated that I would actually arrive at my office at exactly the time the bus would arrive! It would be a close call, so I got off the train and sprinted to the exit only to see the bus a block past, son-of-a-bitch! Hell, I was five minutes away from the 7-train in the greasy chop-shop neighborhood that I work in, so I figured I'd just walk to the N/W instead of walking to the 7 - even though it's below freezing.

Then the night got interesting. Eyeballing my watch when I got five minutes from the N/W train, I calculated that the next bus would actually be arriving in 20 minutes. Doing math in my head, it would take me 5 + 5 + 10 minutes (assuming that the train would come exactly when I got there, which it never does) to get home on the train. Intriguingly though, the bus stop had a fire hydrant next to it that was leaking, causing a massive ice buildup, flooding the street corner, and causing even more ice to build up. It was quite gnarly, and I was in an artistic mood to sit and watch the ice buildup, hoping that some gypsy cabs would nail that puddle, spraying the sidewalk that had three inches of ice built-up from other gypsy cabs nailing the puddle. So I decided to sit and wait for the bus to take me home.

Being a good citizen and realizing that the world is running out of clean, drinkable water (fact!), I called in the leaking hydrant to 3-1-1, the second or third time I've called them. The last time I called them was in Manhattan when a god-damn car alarm kept going off outside my window in the middle of the night. Nobody ever showed up that time, not surprising. But I was bored and the call was free. So I sat, and waited in good confidence knowing that I would be entertained by huge splashes of water/ice and that the buses were running on time because it's late at night and no one takes the bus at this hour, so there's no delay.

Fact: Not enough people rent cars in ghetto Long Island City. I waited like 15 minutes before a car made the turn and nailed the puddle, sending a plume of water onto the icy sidewalk. It was magnificent, though belated. I saw my bus going the other way and knew that it would show up in about five minutes because it does a loop.

Fact: I was losing the feeling in my toes and I was thinking about taking the bus to the hospital to have my nose tested for frostbite because the bus was running five minutes late. I had techno pumping in my headphones and decided that I should do some sprints up and down 21st street. I would totally be that weirdo in LIC, especially with my brightly colored chuyo on my head.

Fact: The bus was STILL not there after doing a sprint up the street and back, though my toes were moderately warmer (which isn't saying much).

Fact: I waited FIFTY EFFIN MINUTES with no bus in site before I hailed a cab and threw six dollars down the drain. I hate the bus. Let it be known that I will no longer honor the buses with my presence from now on in order to protest the utter irresponsibility of the buses. Unless I walk out my apartment and see it coming. There is NO excuse for them being late tonight.

Fact: I am beginning to get feeling back in my toes now.

This incident really drove home the point that my "winter" (fall/spring) jacket is not substantial and I should use my gynormous tax return to purchase a discounted jacket (thanks, recession). But this begs the question - do I go with the long, wool, UES-style jacket, or do I keep it ghetto and real and go with the poofy North Face waterproof, down jacket that has kept Erika warm all winter? I'm likely going to go for the poofy jacket. They're on sale now at Dr. Jays, the ghetto's finest.

J. Riley, two weeks until my wedding and the disappointing gringo turnout means I don't have enough men coming to be groomsmen (thanks, recession). I guess I can rent some Peruvians!

Annoyances

Before I continue, let it be known that on Sunday, December 7th, 2008 I was really really pissed off because it's around zero degrees (Celsius) outside and I have to actually use my oven to heat my apartment. Is this really what $1700 a month gets you in Astoria?

J. Riley, drinking hot tea and wearing my wool scarf. Indoors.

Trouble's Brewing in Astoria...

So today I'm sitting on the bus for my loooong 20 minute commute and am about to doze off when I see a couple police cars swerve in front of the bus and park next to the curb. Then I See more police cars. And more police cars, coming from everywhere and hauling some serious ass from every direction. I've seen this before on 34th St. or in Time Square when they are doing their drills. And I've seen cops on this corner of Astoria, conveniently located in front of several blocks of projects fronted by seriously shady looking characters and the types of stores that would be located a more-or-less abandoned elevator factory - hell yea, Astoria is blue-class like that.

Anyway, these cops are EVERYWHERE. Coming out of the woodwork and I see that they are running into the subway station! The bus kinda creeps along between all the cop cars because they had just shown up and the people getting on the bus there were whispering about a shooting in the subway. Now a shooting is not all THAT surprising, it pretty much happens everyday, but the number of police that were hauling ass down my street to get there was pretty impressive. They must have called all units in the five closest area codes. I got off the bus ten minutes later, went in to get a prescription filled, and came out, and there were STILL cop cars hauling ass down there. There couldn't have been less than 200 cop cars there by this time.

It was impressive, but I couldn't help thinking, what does the guy in that last cop car who's arriving 30 minutes after an incident really going to accomplish? What's going through his mind? And once that many cops show up, who the heck communicates to everyone what their job is? I mean, I saw several emergency response/mobile command center vehicles going there, so I guess that is there job, but still. In any case, I guess this is what these guys train for everyday, situations like this. BTW, it turns out that two cops got shot down in the subway by some thug, probably from the projects. It'll be all over the news tomorrow since it was cops that were shot. Normal shootings? They usually get about an inch-long article - if any at all.