I had a feeling 'bout you

I was just caught by my boss lurking a cat on facebook. I can't believe they pay me to sit here all day.

Now, back to the detailed rendering of my new apartment in MS Paint.

There's an app for that.

The Boy: "I don't care for this new iPhone of yours. It's taking too much attention away from me."
Me: "Well, maybe I would pay more attention to you if you had the ability calculate my tax return while simultaneously finding me three Ethiopian-Thai fusion restaurants within five blocks."
The Boy: [Looks dejected]
Me: [Reaches to hold The Boy's hand]
The Boy: "Pffft, hold your iPhone's hand. [Pause] There's an APP for that."

Yes, LET'S!

There's a store (if you can call it that) next to my apartment called "Let's Dress Up", which for the longest time I thought was a money laundering front for a drug dealer because it was never ever open (or because I've been watching too much Weeds). Anyway, I finally walked by it on the weekend when it was open and it turns out it's a place where little girls dress up and attend themed parties every Saturday (June is Mermaid month). But the place is so small that the parents just all wait outside with their Maclaren strollers and Starbucks lattes, while their little Ariels prance around inside. And the store has these lacy curtains that are always drawn shut so it's uber dark in there.

Basically the whole concept gives me the creeps and just seems to scream pedophilia.

Army of Loneliness

My roommate was recently laid off and doesn't have many friends in this town. So when I came home from a show at about 2:30am he was eager to chat and began describing the elaborate graphic novel trilogy he was working on. Though I was relieved and encouraged to know that the hours he spends playing video games and watching B-movies may ultimately be fruitful, all my admiration disintegrated around 4am, just as he was launching into the third installment.

Zoom Zoom

I love New York City taxis. Most of my time I take the subway wherever I need to go, but it's always a welcome relief when I have an excuse to take a cab. Excuses include: (a) coming home drunk, (b) coming home late, or (c) coming home drunk and late.

I always feel safe in a cab, even when they're driving recklessly, because they never seem to hit anything (seriously, I've been here 4 years and I've never seen a cab get in an accident). I also like how every cabbie seems to have some kind of higher education in their homeland but they're stuck driving cabs in New York because of this, that, or the other (usually "The Man").

My absolute #1 pet peeve is when I tell the cabbie where I want to go and he asks: "How do you want to get there?" Ummm...how the hell should I know? You're the professional. Isn't this what you do for 12 hours a day, just drive around the city? Pffft.

Since I moved into my own place (discounting my three stranger roommates) last month I have frequently been asked, "so, what do you do after work?"

Well: I sat down to catch up my correspondence at about 10pm, but instead ended up watching all of Adam Lambert's American Idol performances and then reading every comment on Perez's "Adam Lambert Comes Out in His Own Way" post.

I usually answer "...work out."


- SJB