One of the nice things about working for a monolithic retail bank is that we get the bank holidays off - such as Columbus Day. I'm not really sure why banks feel the need to close their doors in order to celebrate the raping and pillaging of my ancestors (I'm 1/16th Cherokee, as you all know) by an Italian, but I will forgive them because it meant that I had an excuse for sleeping in until 9:45 in the morning on a Monday. Of course, none of my friends had the day off, so it was going to be a mellow one for me, and we had perfect 80 degree fall weather to boot!
With such nice weather, I decided to utilize the rollerblades for my errand-running. Rollerblading on the crazy UES sidewalks always puts my life in peril, but I figured it wouldn't be too bad avoiding the milfs, trophy wives, and nannies that the narrow sidewalks are full of during a "normal" day. But, sure enough, I had two near-death experiences, one of which involved a shopping cart that was turned around and rolled right into my path. Of course I hit it but demonstrated my impeccable grace by not spilling myself all over the sidewalk and instead turned around and glared at the guy. I can't totally fault him since I was on my rollerblades on the sidewalk. The second event was on an empty sidewalk where a wealthy lady was standing next to the entrance of the car garage waiting for someone to pull her car out - as I found out just as it pulled out right in front of me. The dumb biotch had clearly seen me slowly coming up the street but didn't bother to ask her driver to wait a second or let me know that her car was coming out. Annoying.
Having already seen my life flash in front of my eyes twice already, I decided to push my luck by rollerblading around Central Park and heading down into the heart of all that is evil - Time Square. With speeding traffic, throngs of tourists, tour buses, and messed up roads, this isn't exactly optimal rollerblading territory. But I was so close to it when I hit the south end of the park that I had to take the chance in order to save $7 on Citizen Cope concert tickets that will come in handy during my recovery time next month....
J. Riley, speaking of which I've finally gotten insurance approval for Nov. 1's main event.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Monday, October 09, 2006
Public Service Announcement
"...at least once an hour, on average, the BBC honeypot was hit by an attack that could leave an unprotected machine unusable or turn it into a platform for attacking other PCs."
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/technology/5414502.stm
J. riley, yea, just keep using Internet Explorer please.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/technology/5414502.stm
J. riley, yea, just keep using Internet Explorer please.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
In the Ghetooooo....
On a cold and gray New York mornin,
Another little baby term is born
In the ghettoooooooo (in the ghettoooooo-that-is-91st-St)
Milk Committed. We've all been there before. You have some soccer games from the afternoon Tivo'd and are preparing for a nice, quiet evening catching up on them. You've just returned from the grocery store with some new items and are going to sit down to a fine dining experience with your new Peanut Butter Bumpers cereal. The cereal is in the bowl, the milk is in hand. The milk is poured into the bowl, and then the phone rings. You've been invited to join your friends for an exotic dining excursion - or maybe just chinese food. But you can't join them. For you are milk committed.
J. Riley, there's committed and then there's milk committed. There's a clear distinction here...
Another little baby term is born
In the ghettoooooooo (in the ghettoooooo-that-is-91st-St)
Milk Committed. We've all been there before. You have some soccer games from the afternoon Tivo'd and are preparing for a nice, quiet evening catching up on them. You've just returned from the grocery store with some new items and are going to sit down to a fine dining experience with your new Peanut Butter Bumpers cereal. The cereal is in the bowl, the milk is in hand. The milk is poured into the bowl, and then the phone rings. You've been invited to join your friends for an exotic dining excursion - or maybe just chinese food. But you can't join them. For you are milk committed.
J. Riley, there's committed and then there's milk committed. There's a clear distinction here...
Friday, October 06, 2006
Baby Got Linear, Vertical Back
Because I am not spending enough money or time at the doctor's office, I have decided to take advantage of my new medical insurance and start visiting the chiropractor on a regular basis. The last time I went, he took x-rays of my spine and pointed out a plethora of issues that are not going to fix themselves, sitting on an exercise ball all day at work or not. I am entitled to up to 20 visits a year with my insurance and since there are just three months left in the year, I think I'll be making a couple visits a week to get my alignment all up to date.
In other news, I've been spending a whole lot of time watching the baseball playoffs, where the A's are likely to figuratively (and literally) drop the ball for the next three games after taking a 2-0 lead in the best-of-five series. And I've been catching up on a great show called Weeds, which is on Showtime (though I've heard that it can be found on bit torrent sites as well ;o)
J. Riley, I'm thinking that I probably won't get too many adjustments in the month of November, however....
In other news, I've been spending a whole lot of time watching the baseball playoffs, where the A's are likely to figuratively (and literally) drop the ball for the next three games after taking a 2-0 lead in the best-of-five series. And I've been catching up on a great show called Weeds, which is on Showtime (though I've heard that it can be found on bit torrent sites as well ;o)
J. Riley, I'm thinking that I probably won't get too many adjustments in the month of November, however....
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Releasing the (not so) Inner Geek
Today at work, I was bored with watching the A's game statistics appear on the webpage everytime I hit F5 and decided that I was ready for a change to help improve my efficiency of work, or read the Liverpool news with greater ease. I decided to tackle Windows 2000 and try to get both my laptop screen and an LCD monitor hooked up with Extended Display, so my screen would be split between the two peripherals. A challenge of geeky proportions! My boss, who sits across the aisle from me, came back and found me with parts and bits of my computer and monitors and docking stations all over the place and immediately chastised me, saying I must not have enough work to do. Well, except then he immediately gave me tips, saying that he tried to set it up and it turned into an hour long session of Googling webpages trying to get this damn thing to work. And then I struck gold after downloading some new drivers from Dell's website and - voila! - now my video card is outputting the images on my screen across two monitors, giving me vast more real estate for my spreadsheets and Liverpool news...
J. Riley, yes, I'm that guy with braces who is surrounded by computer screens cluged together while sitting on my exercise ball.
J. Riley, yes, I'm that guy with braces who is surrounded by computer screens cluged together while sitting on my exercise ball.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Gaining Respect for Queens
I've had quite a September, I must say. It started off in LA, where I spent my Labor Day weekend. I know quite a few people down there and, for that reason, I've avoided it like the plague since I graduated from college. I know that there is no way I could go there for a weekend and see everyone that I want to because most of them are from different groups of friends. So rather than disrespect anyone, I just don't go there :o) . But Labor Day was great because 1.) Everyone was actually staying in town for the long weekend, 2.) There was a wedding to attend, and 3.) My little sister had just moved into her apartment and was starting her second year of college. So the stars were lined up and, despite my flight there and back being significanly delayed (for no apparent reason), it was a very entertaining weekend seeing (almost) everyone and getting to meet my friend's Peruvian girlfriend finally, seeing his parents again, and getting to know some people that I was acquantinces with from high school who also attended the wedding. I also managed to squeeze in a day with my sister, seeing her knew warzone apartment and hanging out at Huntington Beach with her for the day. We don't get to spend enough time together, so that was something special! I also narrowly missed meeting up with my parents, who were driving through the area on their way back from visiting my niece in San Diego after moving my little sister in.
The end of the month has been interesting as well. My good friend Paul was (mis-?)diagnosed with a kidney stone, which actually was appendicitis and ended up in the hospital for five or six days with his appendix ruptured. It was pretty hard to see him forced to sit still for six days, not being able to eat or drink anything. I tried to spend as much time down there as possible and he finally recovered enough to come home last week, shortly thereafter flying back to California to return to school, which started this week. I'm sure he's gotta be mentally exhausted, but that's better than being hooked up to IVs all week!
I think the culmination of this, plus turning a year older, some stress at work, Liverpool's stuttering start to the season, getting stood up by my stewardess friend, and my impending surgery, got me feeling pretty lethargic and anti-social lately, so I needed to shake things up to get back into a positive frame of mind and groove. Some remedies come in strange forms, like Columbian nightclubs in the middle of Queens. Some friends from work and I had a drink or two after work on Friday at a (the only) beer shack near my office. Feeling emboldened, I decided that we needed to keep it going somewhere, so I suggested to my Ecuadorian co-worker that he take us somewhere local and unique, since he knows Queens pretty well. One subway stop away at Roosevelt Avenue, we were in the middle of Little Columbia (if you've seen Maria Full of Grace, you might recognize that street name). Our Ecuadorian tour guide took us to a nightclub that was so local that the Columbian bartenders didn't speak a lick of English. Sweet! I was so enthralled in this place!
Personally, I use sites like Citysearch and my restaurant guides to find new places to check out, but since those mostly focus on Manhattan, it's really tough to find these little enclaves, kind of like Polish Greenpoint in Brooklyn. I know they exist, but it's really hard to find out about them without someone local!
In any case, one happy hour drink turned into a night of dancing to merengue, borchata (sp.), cha-cha, and salsa music and meeting some new Latin folks in a legitimately South American atmosphere. I've got that place bookmarked in my mind, possibly the next destination for one of my infamous Pisco Sour parties??
After waking up late on Saturday, I joined Sean for some greasy American food to help shake off the effects of the cervezas from the night before. Unfortunately, we had to help see Paul and his parents off to the airport to return to school, but fortunately the day didn't end there as my friends Andrea and Alan had their wedding celebration that evening waaay upstate. They got married alone in Fiji a few months back so they had their party Saturday night at a very unique location - in an old carousel building at a state park. The carousel was still operational and made for an amazing aura about the place. Cathy, originally supposed to be in California on vacation this week, decided at the last minute to attend, so we both hitched a ride with someone who was making the hour and a half drive with a rental car.
They had a lovely reception, including a nice slideshow of their trip and wedding in Fiji, complete with Fijian warriors escorting her down to the cliff overlooking the sunset. That fulfilled the emotional quota that all wedding celebrations need to have :o).
J. Riley, today's events include watching movies that came out before I was born that I really should have seen a long time ago, like West Side Story (aka New York's Romeo & Juliet in the neighborhood that was torn down to build the Lincoln Center) and Saturday Night Fever...
The end of the month has been interesting as well. My good friend Paul was (mis-?)diagnosed with a kidney stone, which actually was appendicitis and ended up in the hospital for five or six days with his appendix ruptured. It was pretty hard to see him forced to sit still for six days, not being able to eat or drink anything. I tried to spend as much time down there as possible and he finally recovered enough to come home last week, shortly thereafter flying back to California to return to school, which started this week. I'm sure he's gotta be mentally exhausted, but that's better than being hooked up to IVs all week!
I think the culmination of this, plus turning a year older, some stress at work, Liverpool's stuttering start to the season, getting stood up by my stewardess friend, and my impending surgery, got me feeling pretty lethargic and anti-social lately, so I needed to shake things up to get back into a positive frame of mind and groove. Some remedies come in strange forms, like Columbian nightclubs in the middle of Queens. Some friends from work and I had a drink or two after work on Friday at a (the only) beer shack near my office. Feeling emboldened, I decided that we needed to keep it going somewhere, so I suggested to my Ecuadorian co-worker that he take us somewhere local and unique, since he knows Queens pretty well. One subway stop away at Roosevelt Avenue, we were in the middle of Little Columbia (if you've seen Maria Full of Grace, you might recognize that street name). Our Ecuadorian tour guide took us to a nightclub that was so local that the Columbian bartenders didn't speak a lick of English. Sweet! I was so enthralled in this place!
Personally, I use sites like Citysearch and my restaurant guides to find new places to check out, but since those mostly focus on Manhattan, it's really tough to find these little enclaves, kind of like Polish Greenpoint in Brooklyn. I know they exist, but it's really hard to find out about them without someone local!
In any case, one happy hour drink turned into a night of dancing to merengue, borchata (sp.), cha-cha, and salsa music and meeting some new Latin folks in a legitimately South American atmosphere. I've got that place bookmarked in my mind, possibly the next destination for one of my infamous Pisco Sour parties??
After waking up late on Saturday, I joined Sean for some greasy American food to help shake off the effects of the cervezas from the night before. Unfortunately, we had to help see Paul and his parents off to the airport to return to school, but fortunately the day didn't end there as my friends Andrea and Alan had their wedding celebration that evening waaay upstate. They got married alone in Fiji a few months back so they had their party Saturday night at a very unique location - in an old carousel building at a state park. The carousel was still operational and made for an amazing aura about the place. Cathy, originally supposed to be in California on vacation this week, decided at the last minute to attend, so we both hitched a ride with someone who was making the hour and a half drive with a rental car.
They had a lovely reception, including a nice slideshow of their trip and wedding in Fiji, complete with Fijian warriors escorting her down to the cliff overlooking the sunset. That fulfilled the emotional quota that all wedding celebrations need to have :o).
J. Riley, today's events include watching movies that came out before I was born that I really should have seen a long time ago, like West Side Story (aka New York's Romeo & Juliet in the neighborhood that was torn down to build the Lincoln Center) and Saturday Night Fever...
Friday, September 22, 2006
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Crap(s)
We never thought this day would come, but Vas is actually getting hitched. We got the warning email today that he has, appropriately, decided to get married on 7/7/07. This is appropriate because 7 is of course one of the numbers that you would like to see in a casino, notably at the Craps table. And if you know Roland and his Texas Hold'm addiction, you would instantly understand ;o) . The best part about Vas getting married is that I will get to experience my fourth international wedding, this one being in Slovakia (Mexico now counts because S&D are getting married by a Mayan shaman, or so they hope). As is typical, I began mentally planning my trip next summer about a minute after getting the email, and it's going to be a tough one. Crap, I have to use how many miles to fly for free?
Crap, I can't figure out my neighbors. They are stumping me. There is an older guy (who calls me Jason or "J", incidently) and a girl (who is also old, though she doesn't seem to think so judging by her choice of clothing) who live there. I frequently see fresh-from-the-ghetto guys leaving her apartment in the morning, I frequently see bikes parked in the hallway in front of the door, I frequently (exaggeration) hear her yelling at the guy from the hallway because he won't let her in. I just assumed she was a prostitute or a raging crack whore. Then I started seeing shady characters standing in the staircase hallway outside of her (and MY) door, calling her from their cellphones and making very defensive comments to me about how they're waiting for someone when I didn't even ask or look at them when walking down the stairs. And then her "friend" who doesn't have a key and who I see looking spaced out while she wanders around the hallway has apparently moved in. So maybe she's a drug dealer. Or, it dawned on me today, maybe she's just a crack head who's picking up from her dealers in my hallway. Or maybe she's completely normal.
J. Riley, only in New York City could/would I have a drug pushing, needle dipping prostitute living next door paying the insane prices we're charged for living 91 blocks from the nexus of the universe.
Crap, I can't figure out my neighbors. They are stumping me. There is an older guy (who calls me Jason or "J", incidently) and a girl (who is also old, though she doesn't seem to think so judging by her choice of clothing) who live there. I frequently see fresh-from-the-ghetto guys leaving her apartment in the morning, I frequently see bikes parked in the hallway in front of the door, I frequently (exaggeration) hear her yelling at the guy from the hallway because he won't let her in. I just assumed she was a prostitute or a raging crack whore. Then I started seeing shady characters standing in the staircase hallway outside of her (and MY) door, calling her from their cellphones and making very defensive comments to me about how they're waiting for someone when I didn't even ask or look at them when walking down the stairs. And then her "friend" who doesn't have a key and who I see looking spaced out while she wanders around the hallway has apparently moved in. So maybe she's a drug dealer. Or, it dawned on me today, maybe she's just a crack head who's picking up from her dealers in my hallway. Or maybe she's completely normal.
J. Riley, only in New York City could/would I have a drug pushing, needle dipping prostitute living next door paying the insane prices we're charged for living 91 blocks from the nexus of the universe.
The Date is Set
November 1st will be the day that I will be re-shaped to allow me to eat a slice of pizza, a sandwich, corn on the cob, etc. Well, after I heal of course!
J. Riley, looking forward to that experience
J. Riley, looking forward to that experience
Monday, September 18, 2006
The Cost of Budgeting
After doing some back-of-the-envelope calculations on my impending surgery, I knew that I'd need to do some serious cost-cutting on luxury items like eating out and gourmet yogurt at the natural food store. As I expected, this second surgery is gonna be like 20 times (slight exaggeration) more expensive and with my insurance up in the air right now (though it has more or less come in for a landing with the arrival of my insurance card), these are times for me being really, really frugal (cheap).
Well, except for going to watch Spamalot on Broadway last Tuesday. That was booked before said back-of-the-envelope calculations were computed. And we got a fantastic deal on the tickets! It's a great show that was precursed not with a $30 theater-district meal, but rather a $10 (combined) plate of pierogis and borscht with uber-frugal Melissa at my favorite Polish restaurant in Brooklyn, a few stops from where I work.
And then Wednesday arrived and I was caught between a rock and a hard place when Paul called me at work and tempted me with an opportunity for immense pleasure watching Jimmy Buffett at Madison Square Gardens the next night. Hello? No brainer! Of course I'm going to see that. But, yowser, that was an expensive treat. I had to hit myself to restart my pulse after he told me the price. I was doubting, doubting, doubting, sold. I spent many years of my life holding my wallet down and missed out on a lot because of it, so there's no reason to skimp on opportunities when they come knocking on the door when I still have positive cash flow. Plus I got to spend an evening with Paul and D before Paul goes back to school this week. As always, Jimmy put on a great 3-hour show with thousands of parrot-heads in the crowd. I really should go experience the Key West lifestyle while I'm out in this side of the country...
Saturday was a big milestone for me and my volunteer troupe. After two-consecutive trips that were total bombs due to one thing or another (and I'd like to think outside of my control), this was going to be a key month. School is back in session, so I was hoping that things would again be predictive and back to normal. I kept the number of volunteers limited this month to make sure that we'd get enough kids to sign up before people committed themselves, and sure enough we had 12 kids coming and only six volunteers early in the week. We were going to a rock-climbing gym, so maybe it was popular with the kids and the volunteers, because as soon as I opened up a few more slots for volunteers, they were snapped up quickly. Until someone cancelled on Friday evening and then someone called in sick Saturday morning. I was stressing out about having too many kids this time, but in the end everything was just fine and we had a great trip doing something that, while not cheap, was something that I hadn't done before. And apparently my body had never experienced such contorsions of my meager frame, either. I've been walking around wincing and with bruised ribs ever since! I picked an easy wall to try first and then, in front of the full crowd, chose a more difficult one that the little kids had little problem with. Apparently they're stronger and more athletic than me. Or should I say "strong" and "athletic", since I am none of the above. I huffed and I puffed and I cheated by pulling on the rope to hoist myself a few inches higher so I could get my foot on the next rock. But, hey, I made it and got down to the ground in a sweaty heap with my upper body twitching and shaking like it was 10 degrees outside and I was in my boxers.
Saturday night, was the massive Triple-E event: Eastern Euro Extravaganza! With many of my friends in grumbling compliance with my birthday wish to leave the island, we headed off on a trip to Astoria, Queens for one of the last Old-World beer gardens in New York. Unfortunately, D was a victum of a certain snarfing-incident and had caught the nasty bug that I'd had the previous week and Paul got the short end of stick when he came down with a stomach infection as a result of a baby pearl lodged in his kidney. There were many people hinting that going to the Polish nightclub (with "dress to impress" standards) at midnight in Brooklyn wasn't exactly on their agenda, but I was still up to the task. But, therein lied a question:
What does one wear to "impress" at a Polish nightclub in Brooklyn? Imagine a ven diagram with four circles (pretend like this isn't a web architecture ven diagram for a minute):
In my ven diagram, my four circles would be as follows:
In any case, the beer garden was amazing. Next time anyone visits me and it's warm at night (think: September), I am going to take you there. It was totally legit and totally authentic, complete with old men playing cards and drinking imported Czech beer to little kids running around at ten o'clock at night while mom and dad sat with their friends at a bench table enjoying a cold one or four. I know you've heard me say that NYC is very European, but this was the first time I've experienced such an atmosphere without taking an eight-hour flight home.
Being that it was my birthday party, we all enjoyed quite a few pitchers of fresh, tasty Pilsners and Bavarian Dunkel-donker (I made that one up; How else do you describe dark Spaten? ;o). Foolishly, Alan brought up the subject of purchasing me a birthday shot and, clearly under the influence of the dunkel-donker, I asked everyone if they'd ever had a shot of Wild Turkey and lime. I guess I was the only one who had enjoyed such a disgusting sounding, but heavenly tasting, specimen and to my surprise, someone actually brought me a shot of Wild Turkey with a slice of lime. Uhhh...by "lime" I meant lime juice! And the next day, I realized that by "Wild Turkey", I actually meant "Southern Comfort". To this hour, I have no idea where I came up with Wile Turkey and Lime. No idea. I don't even like whiskey! SoCo and lime excluded....
With the masses coming up with lame excuses like "I have a baby shower to go to in the morning", "I have other, more important parties to attend", "I have a Liverpool vs. Chelsea soccer match to watch in the morning" (oh wait, that was me), or "my husband is at home with a kidney stone" (ok, that one is excusable), there was an exodus of friends when I announced that we had to depart for the club at once in order to get in at a discounted price. Melissa was a trooper, however, and was up for checking out Club Exit. We got there nice and early (and cheaply) at 11:45 and chilled out on the couches while the Polish rolled in. We discussed the dress-code quandry that I'd faced earlier that night and sat back and analyzed Polish fashion trends from days gone by. Once the dance floor was packed and the Euro-techno was pumping, we danced for a few hours before we got bored and headed back to the homeland in the city.
The next day, after shaking off a Wild Turkey headache and sitting in despair while reading recaps of Liverpool's loss (again) against Chelsea, I got some small things around the house accomplished before starting to plan for the next event of the week - Paul's Going Back to School party at a karaoke place downtown. Sunday nights are super cheap and we had a room for 15 rented out all for ourselves. It's been a while since I've sang out of tune in front of a crowd of people I know, but we had a blast. We were there for about four hours and sang what seemed like a few hundred crowd-favorite songs, plus a few songs that I wanted to sing but nobody wanted to listen to. You mean "Riders on the Storm", with lyrics like "If you give this man a ride sweet Caroline will die, killer on the run" isn't a popular sing-along? And, one thing I've gotta say: I now have tremendous respect for Ringo Starr. I always thought his songs were very monotone, but I actually found "Act Naturally" more difficult to sing than Sweet Child of Mine. We're gonna have to do that again sometime!
J. Riley, for some reason, sleeping sounds really good right now.
Well, except for going to watch Spamalot on Broadway last Tuesday. That was booked before said back-of-the-envelope calculations were computed. And we got a fantastic deal on the tickets! It's a great show that was precursed not with a $30 theater-district meal, but rather a $10 (combined) plate of pierogis and borscht with uber-frugal Melissa at my favorite Polish restaurant in Brooklyn, a few stops from where I work.
And then Wednesday arrived and I was caught between a rock and a hard place when Paul called me at work and tempted me with an opportunity for immense pleasure watching Jimmy Buffett at Madison Square Gardens the next night. Hello? No brainer! Of course I'm going to see that. But, yowser, that was an expensive treat. I had to hit myself to restart my pulse after he told me the price. I was doubting, doubting, doubting, sold. I spent many years of my life holding my wallet down and missed out on a lot because of it, so there's no reason to skimp on opportunities when they come knocking on the door when I still have positive cash flow. Plus I got to spend an evening with Paul and D before Paul goes back to school this week. As always, Jimmy put on a great 3-hour show with thousands of parrot-heads in the crowd. I really should go experience the Key West lifestyle while I'm out in this side of the country...
Saturday was a big milestone for me and my volunteer troupe. After two-consecutive trips that were total bombs due to one thing or another (and I'd like to think outside of my control), this was going to be a key month. School is back in session, so I was hoping that things would again be predictive and back to normal. I kept the number of volunteers limited this month to make sure that we'd get enough kids to sign up before people committed themselves, and sure enough we had 12 kids coming and only six volunteers early in the week. We were going to a rock-climbing gym, so maybe it was popular with the kids and the volunteers, because as soon as I opened up a few more slots for volunteers, they were snapped up quickly. Until someone cancelled on Friday evening and then someone called in sick Saturday morning. I was stressing out about having too many kids this time, but in the end everything was just fine and we had a great trip doing something that, while not cheap, was something that I hadn't done before. And apparently my body had never experienced such contorsions of my meager frame, either. I've been walking around wincing and with bruised ribs ever since! I picked an easy wall to try first and then, in front of the full crowd, chose a more difficult one that the little kids had little problem with. Apparently they're stronger and more athletic than me. Or should I say "strong" and "athletic", since I am none of the above. I huffed and I puffed and I cheated by pulling on the rope to hoist myself a few inches higher so I could get my foot on the next rock. But, hey, I made it and got down to the ground in a sweaty heap with my upper body twitching and shaking like it was 10 degrees outside and I was in my boxers.
Saturday night, was the massive Triple-E event: Eastern Euro Extravaganza! With many of my friends in grumbling compliance with my birthday wish to leave the island, we headed off on a trip to Astoria, Queens for one of the last Old-World beer gardens in New York. Unfortunately, D was a victum of a certain snarfing-incident and had caught the nasty bug that I'd had the previous week and Paul got the short end of stick when he came down with a stomach infection as a result of a baby pearl lodged in his kidney. There were many people hinting that going to the Polish nightclub (with "dress to impress" standards) at midnight in Brooklyn wasn't exactly on their agenda, but I was still up to the task. But, therein lied a question:
What does one wear to "impress" at a Polish nightclub in Brooklyn? Imagine a ven diagram with four circles (pretend like this isn't a web architecture ven diagram for a minute):
In my ven diagram, my four circles would be as follows:- Brooklyn Style: Known as being uber-hip, where you can wear torn jeans, tight vintage shirts, big belt buckles, and any other kind of clothing one could find at a second-hand store.
- Greenpoint (1): An area of Brooklyn that is home to mostly Polish immigrants (and I mean fresh off the boat).
- Greenpoint (2): According to my Polish sources, Greenpoints style is approximately a decade behind modern-day Warsaw.
- Manhattan Club Style: In Manhattan, "dress to impress" for a club could mean a full on suit.
In any case, the beer garden was amazing. Next time anyone visits me and it's warm at night (think: September), I am going to take you there. It was totally legit and totally authentic, complete with old men playing cards and drinking imported Czech beer to little kids running around at ten o'clock at night while mom and dad sat with their friends at a bench table enjoying a cold one or four. I know you've heard me say that NYC is very European, but this was the first time I've experienced such an atmosphere without taking an eight-hour flight home.
Being that it was my birthday party, we all enjoyed quite a few pitchers of fresh, tasty Pilsners and Bavarian Dunkel-donker (I made that one up; How else do you describe dark Spaten? ;o). Foolishly, Alan brought up the subject of purchasing me a birthday shot and, clearly under the influence of the dunkel-donker, I asked everyone if they'd ever had a shot of Wild Turkey and lime. I guess I was the only one who had enjoyed such a disgusting sounding, but heavenly tasting, specimen and to my surprise, someone actually brought me a shot of Wild Turkey with a slice of lime. Uhhh...by "lime" I meant lime juice! And the next day, I realized that by "Wild Turkey", I actually meant "Southern Comfort". To this hour, I have no idea where I came up with Wile Turkey and Lime. No idea. I don't even like whiskey! SoCo and lime excluded....
With the masses coming up with lame excuses like "I have a baby shower to go to in the morning", "I have other, more important parties to attend", "I have a Liverpool vs. Chelsea soccer match to watch in the morning" (oh wait, that was me), or "my husband is at home with a kidney stone" (ok, that one is excusable), there was an exodus of friends when I announced that we had to depart for the club at once in order to get in at a discounted price. Melissa was a trooper, however, and was up for checking out Club Exit. We got there nice and early (and cheaply) at 11:45 and chilled out on the couches while the Polish rolled in. We discussed the dress-code quandry that I'd faced earlier that night and sat back and analyzed Polish fashion trends from days gone by. Once the dance floor was packed and the Euro-techno was pumping, we danced for a few hours before we got bored and headed back to the homeland in the city.
The next day, after shaking off a Wild Turkey headache and sitting in despair while reading recaps of Liverpool's loss (again) against Chelsea, I got some small things around the house accomplished before starting to plan for the next event of the week - Paul's Going Back to School party at a karaoke place downtown. Sunday nights are super cheap and we had a room for 15 rented out all for ourselves. It's been a while since I've sang out of tune in front of a crowd of people I know, but we had a blast. We were there for about four hours and sang what seemed like a few hundred crowd-favorite songs, plus a few songs that I wanted to sing but nobody wanted to listen to. You mean "Riders on the Storm", with lyrics like "If you give this man a ride sweet Caroline will die, killer on the run" isn't a popular sing-along? And, one thing I've gotta say: I now have tremendous respect for Ringo Starr. I always thought his songs were very monotone, but I actually found "Act Naturally" more difficult to sing than Sweet Child of Mine. We're gonna have to do that again sometime!
J. Riley, for some reason, sleeping sounds really good right now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)