As a disclaimer, I would like to start by saying my heart goes out to the families that lost loved ones due to Irene. My humor is not meant to mock anybody's pain.
When I lived in the south, we would sometimes get a snow storm. Usually it wouldn't add up to much more than a couple of inches (insert penis joke here), but we would find ourselves stuck in a house with non-perishable foods, a gallon of milk and the frustrating inconsistencies of Time Warner Cable. (Just for the record, I still don't understand why everyone rushes out for milk. If you lose power, the milk goes bad!) The city would be shut down, Amanda would be working from home and the dogs would be confused as to how to shit on a sheet of ice. Nobody would be driving unless they had to or they were from the north.
Those from the north would mock us with their vehicular prowess as they navigated the ice covered streets with ease at top speeds. We would constantly hear the jabbing comments about how southerners are dumb and don't know how to drive in the snow.
"You call this a snow storm!?" they would say. "You don't know what a real snow storm is! In New York we wouldn't even define this as snow." They wouldn't understand that the city of Charlotte is not equipped to handle even the smallest amount of snow since it's so rare that we get it there. We don't have the slag trucks and manpower to handle these acts of nature. Would you rather people who grew up in the south say, "Fuck it! I'm going to drive anyway!" Nobody wants that. They will be slow, they will be dangerous and they will be sliding off the roads.
Then came Irene. Finally we were able to exact our revenge! The Category 1 hurricane decided to make her way up to the popular city of New York. (Now, I understand that Irene was more than a Cat 1 when she made landfall, but, honestly, when she made it to NYC, she was barely a tropical storm.) As us dumb southerners were watching the news and mocking this laughable "hurricane" that was on its way up for a visit, the know-it-all New Yorkers were boarding up windows and buying all the milk in preparation for a little rain shower. We went and got our gallons of water and a few boxes and cans of non-perishables, but only because we realize that NYC is not prepared for a storm and we didn't know what kind of aftermath we would be in for. Power lines could have gotten blown over and stores could have decided not to reopen.
The news was blowing the entire situation out of proportion as well. This was supposed to be the "storm of the century"! This was supposed to drown NYC and even had the dramatic computer graphic images to show the tides splashing up against the buildings in lower Manhattan. It basically seemed to us that after Mayor Bloomberg made the decision to shut down the MTA and evacuate flood zone "A", the news had no choice but to continue to make this storm as epic as it possibly could. But all of us dumb southerners knew that once the storm hit land, it would decrease in intensity. As the storm continued to move north and lose strength, we knew it would be nothing more than a thunderstorm by the time it got up to us.
Even the next day, the great city of New York hadn't recovered. All of the subways were still closed. Businesses were still boarded up and the streets were desolate. There were the rare cabs cruising up and down the streets, but not too many fares wandered the abandoned avenues. Tourists had gathered up their souvenirs and taken the first bus or plane out.
The news was still freaking out and we were told that we should all still remain indoors. REALLY!? Now I'm not saying people should just go out all willy nilly like it was a beautiful spring day, but to not go out at all!? It was one of the nicest days I had seen outside in New York since I moved here! The sun would occasionally peek out. The breeze felt amazing. The temperature was just right. All we really needed were a few brave New Yorkers to come out and open up a damn restaurant!
In a small way, it was nice to see the well adjusted people of New York freak out over what we knew would be a small storm. In a small way, it was nice to be able to throw a little mockery their way. Take that New York! Score one for the dumb southerners who never get snow...but know what a damn Hurricane is! Drive in that!
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
Learn to Laugh
These views have significantly changed and I am a more mature person now having listened to those around me and grown through their knowledge.
Monday, August 8, 2011
She's always playing with it!
She plays with it everywhere.
She plays with it on the couch when she gets home from work.
She plays with it in bed when we lay down.
She plays with it on the subway, whether she's standing or sitting.
She plays with it even when we're watching a movie at home!
She plays with it when we talk sometimes, barely nodding in agreement.
She plays with it on the airplane.
She plays with it in the car...unless she's sleeping.
She plays with it when we go out for dinner.
When we're out and I excuse myself to use the restroom, she's playing with it when I return.
She plays with it in the shade,
She plays with it in the sun.
She doesn't seem to play with it much in the rain...
She plays with it sitting up, laying down, walking, waiting or standing.
I often think she'd rather be playing with it than spending time with me.
I honestly wouldn't mind so much if I had one to play with...
But I won't have an iPhone for at least another year.
She plays with it on the couch when she gets home from work.
She plays with it in bed when we lay down.
She plays with it on the subway, whether she's standing or sitting.
She plays with it even when we're watching a movie at home!
She plays with it when we talk sometimes, barely nodding in agreement.
She plays with it on the airplane.
She plays with it in the car...unless she's sleeping.
She plays with it when we go out for dinner.
When we're out and I excuse myself to use the restroom, she's playing with it when I return.
She plays with it in the shade,
She plays with it in the sun.
She doesn't seem to play with it much in the rain...
She plays with it sitting up, laying down, walking, waiting or standing.
I often think she'd rather be playing with it than spending time with me.
I honestly wouldn't mind so much if I had one to play with...
But I won't have an iPhone for at least another year.
Scrub no more...wait, scratch that.
Hello, all! It's been a while! I don't really remember when I last checked in, but I feel like I actually have something to report this time!
So, my buddy, Jim Cremins, made a life changing decision a couple of months ago to quit his job as the GM of the Beekman Theatre and do what he moved to NY to do which is work in the film industry. Since making that decision, he's had work every week in some capacity on a project in that industry! Most recently he got on as an office PA on the low budget film "Scoutmasters." Being the good friend that he is, he got me an interview. I went in, apparently impressed some people and started driving. I worked my first day in about three and a half months and became an ex-NYC Scrub!
(cheers and applause and pats on the back)
I know, thank you, thank you! So, whilst driving I apparently impressed a few other people and I figured this gig was on lock! Then I found out the AD department (that's assistant directors) had a different idea.
See, when I first interviewed, I came in to be a driver. Then they realized I was an actor and they wanted me to be a set PA working with the nine nine-year-olds in the film. I was down for that! Then the director steps in and brings someone else in for the kid wrangler position...but the coordinators that I interviewed with still like me and want me to work, so they tell me I'll likely be a talent driver. Still awesome! Driving a van around for the actors (the film stars Patton Oswalt, Johnny Knoxville and Rob Riggle) and then working on set in between is a good way to make some connections.
Then during pre-production, the set decorating department needed a 14' box truck to get their gear to Yonkers. I got the call and drove for that day. I have to be honest, not a fan of driving a truck in and around NYC. There are certain roads you can't drive on in NYC and there are certain bridges you can't take. You pretty much can't park anywhere and part of this film takes place in Bear Mountain State Park where I would be driving up the side of said mountain with nothing but a six-inch rock wall keeping me from going over the edge and plummeting to my inevitable fate. Do not want!
The two days after driving the box truck I drove one of two 15-passenger vans on a Tech Scout. We hit just about every location outside of Manhattan and this is where I learned about the need to drive up the side of a mountain. There was a lot of back-and-forth between what I was hearing in the van and what I was hearing from the production office. The coordinators wanted me to be a talent driver while the ADs wanted me to be a truck driver. The set decorator, Lou, wanted me to drive his truck. After I told the coordinators that I didn't feel comfortable driving a truck, I was supposedly back on to drive talent vans. Then I was told by the ADs that I would be driving talent vans and I figured it was a done deal. Nothing is ever a done deal! After being told that I was on the crew and would be driving talent, I received a call over the weekend and was told I was needed to drive the wardrobe truck.
I'm not sure if you got the idea yet, but I DON'T FEEL COMFORTABLE DRIVING A TRUCK AROUND HERE!! So I turned it down. I was supposed to receive a call from the ADs as a follow up this past weekend, but they never rang. Come to find out today that they will not be using me to drive anything! Now I've been reduced to day-playing as a set PA.
Now, part of me is pissed! However, there's a part of me that is happy since I was trying to go back to Charlotte one weekend to see my brother-in-law and some friends play a Nirvana show.
So, basically, I've been a scrub for about three and a half months, then got a job and started making my own money, then lost the job (essentially) and am back to being a part time scrub. Nothing is ever easy.
So, my buddy, Jim Cremins, made a life changing decision a couple of months ago to quit his job as the GM of the Beekman Theatre and do what he moved to NY to do which is work in the film industry. Since making that decision, he's had work every week in some capacity on a project in that industry! Most recently he got on as an office PA on the low budget film "Scoutmasters." Being the good friend that he is, he got me an interview. I went in, apparently impressed some people and started driving. I worked my first day in about three and a half months and became an ex-NYC Scrub!
(cheers and applause and pats on the back)
I know, thank you, thank you! So, whilst driving I apparently impressed a few other people and I figured this gig was on lock! Then I found out the AD department (that's assistant directors) had a different idea.
See, when I first interviewed, I came in to be a driver. Then they realized I was an actor and they wanted me to be a set PA working with the nine nine-year-olds in the film. I was down for that! Then the director steps in and brings someone else in for the kid wrangler position...but the coordinators that I interviewed with still like me and want me to work, so they tell me I'll likely be a talent driver. Still awesome! Driving a van around for the actors (the film stars Patton Oswalt, Johnny Knoxville and Rob Riggle) and then working on set in between is a good way to make some connections.
Then during pre-production, the set decorating department needed a 14' box truck to get their gear to Yonkers. I got the call and drove for that day. I have to be honest, not a fan of driving a truck in and around NYC. There are certain roads you can't drive on in NYC and there are certain bridges you can't take. You pretty much can't park anywhere and part of this film takes place in Bear Mountain State Park where I would be driving up the side of said mountain with nothing but a six-inch rock wall keeping me from going over the edge and plummeting to my inevitable fate. Do not want!
The two days after driving the box truck I drove one of two 15-passenger vans on a Tech Scout. We hit just about every location outside of Manhattan and this is where I learned about the need to drive up the side of a mountain. There was a lot of back-and-forth between what I was hearing in the van and what I was hearing from the production office. The coordinators wanted me to be a talent driver while the ADs wanted me to be a truck driver. The set decorator, Lou, wanted me to drive his truck. After I told the coordinators that I didn't feel comfortable driving a truck, I was supposedly back on to drive talent vans. Then I was told by the ADs that I would be driving talent vans and I figured it was a done deal. Nothing is ever a done deal! After being told that I was on the crew and would be driving talent, I received a call over the weekend and was told I was needed to drive the wardrobe truck.
I'm not sure if you got the idea yet, but I DON'T FEEL COMFORTABLE DRIVING A TRUCK AROUND HERE!! So I turned it down. I was supposed to receive a call from the ADs as a follow up this past weekend, but they never rang. Come to find out today that they will not be using me to drive anything! Now I've been reduced to day-playing as a set PA.
Now, part of me is pissed! However, there's a part of me that is happy since I was trying to go back to Charlotte one weekend to see my brother-in-law and some friends play a Nirvana show.
So, basically, I've been a scrub for about three and a half months, then got a job and started making my own money, then lost the job (essentially) and am back to being a part time scrub. Nothing is ever easy.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Just a Dream
So, I had a dream last night that I was in space. I didn't have a space suit on, it was me, in plain clothes, floating through space. I believe I went up in a shuttle, but somehow got out of it and just floated up to a small space station. Someone was with me, although I don't know who. We discussed the changes in the different space shuttles over time. How they got more sleek and aerodynamic. We entered the space station, looked around, and then just left, going back to floating amongst the stars.
That was all I can really recall from the dream.
Then I found out that today is the day the space shuttle program will end...
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
TMI! TMI!
If you are related to Amanda or me, you might want to stop reading now.
You're still reading...STOP!
Okay, just don't bring it up later!
Keep in mind we've only been in NY for a little over two months...and those months have been from warm to hot!
That said, spontaneous sex is out of the question! Unless you are completely immune to the musty smell of the netherlands, a shower is absolutely needed before engaging in physical fun time.
Maybe it's just us! Maybe most people don't care! I'm sure there will be a point in time when we just throw in the towel and get used to stinky, sweaty sex.
Now don't get me wrong, sweaty sex is awesome! But this isn't just sweaty sex. This is walking around New York City, layer of grime on skin, hair slicked back from the sweat, soaked through clothing, in need of Gold Bond sweat. This isn't that roll over for post-coital heavy breathing, dry off under a ceiling fan while still reaching for a boob sweat. This is that lay down and push every cover to the middle of the bed, get the dog away from me, I love you but please don't touch me right now I feel gross, I usually fall asleep touching my own junk but I don't want to sour my hands sweat! I guess my point is, THIS IS NOT SEXY SWEAT!
I have been a morning showerer for as long as I can remember. The only time this routine typically changes is when I have to be up really early for something and showering the night before will buy me 20 more minutes of sleep the next morning. I like being a morning showerer. It helps wake me up! It's a great way to start the day! I constantly resist the need to be the night time showerer. Usually it is because I'm just too damn tired to shower at night and I just want to go to bed.
"Why not shower early in the evening so when you get tired you can just go to bed?"
Good question. Here's my answer:
I have two dogs that I have to harness and leash and walk down three flights of stairs and out into the street to stand in the heat while they piss and shit and then pick up said shit and walk back up those three flights of stairs and unharness them and then go to bed. By the time I'm done with that, I'm usually sweating again. Yes, part of it has to do with the fact that I'm out of shape. Yes, part of it has to do with the fact that I'm a sweaty person. Maybe in the fall things will be different. But for now, it's gross.
Keep in mind we have A/C units in our bedroom and in the living room. I've seen a lot of apartments without A/C units! Can you imagine the overwhelming, perpetual ball smell slapping you in the face there?
Now, you may have noticed that I'm only referencing the smell of the male genitalia and I have done so for very good reason. My wife smells like roses.
You're still reading...STOP!
Okay, just don't bring it up later!
Keep in mind we've only been in NY for a little over two months...and those months have been from warm to hot!
That said, spontaneous sex is out of the question! Unless you are completely immune to the musty smell of the netherlands, a shower is absolutely needed before engaging in physical fun time.
Maybe it's just us! Maybe most people don't care! I'm sure there will be a point in time when we just throw in the towel and get used to stinky, sweaty sex.
Now don't get me wrong, sweaty sex is awesome! But this isn't just sweaty sex. This is walking around New York City, layer of grime on skin, hair slicked back from the sweat, soaked through clothing, in need of Gold Bond sweat. This isn't that roll over for post-coital heavy breathing, dry off under a ceiling fan while still reaching for a boob sweat. This is that lay down and push every cover to the middle of the bed, get the dog away from me, I love you but please don't touch me right now I feel gross, I usually fall asleep touching my own junk but I don't want to sour my hands sweat! I guess my point is, THIS IS NOT SEXY SWEAT!
I have been a morning showerer for as long as I can remember. The only time this routine typically changes is when I have to be up really early for something and showering the night before will buy me 20 more minutes of sleep the next morning. I like being a morning showerer. It helps wake me up! It's a great way to start the day! I constantly resist the need to be the night time showerer. Usually it is because I'm just too damn tired to shower at night and I just want to go to bed.
"Why not shower early in the evening so when you get tired you can just go to bed?"
Good question. Here's my answer:
I have two dogs that I have to harness and leash and walk down three flights of stairs and out into the street to stand in the heat while they piss and shit and then pick up said shit and walk back up those three flights of stairs and unharness them and then go to bed. By the time I'm done with that, I'm usually sweating again. Yes, part of it has to do with the fact that I'm out of shape. Yes, part of it has to do with the fact that I'm a sweaty person. Maybe in the fall things will be different. But for now, it's gross.
Keep in mind we have A/C units in our bedroom and in the living room. I've seen a lot of apartments without A/C units! Can you imagine the overwhelming, perpetual ball smell slapping you in the face there?
Now, you may have noticed that I'm only referencing the smell of the male genitalia and I have done so for very good reason. My wife smells like roses.
Monday, July 18, 2011
You think your shit don't stink!?
Pigeons.
If you have ever been to New York or seen a movie that takes place in New York, you know that there are pigeons everywhere. When I first moved up here, I wondered how often people got shat on by pigeons. I also wondered how long it would take before I was inevitably shat on. Roughly nine weeks and one and a half days.
Amanda and I met up with some friends at the most awesome sports bar EVER, 200 5th. They have a huge projector screen in the back of the place and individual TVs for each person sitting at a table. I'm not saying there is a TV at each table...I'm saying there is a TV for each person! And you can get them to tune in to whatever game you want!
Needless to say, this past Sunday every TV was tuned in to the Fifa Women's World Cup Final. I was seated on a long bench seat between three people. I get a bit claustrophobic, so I had to take a break and get out from the middle of the bench. It was noisy inside the bar and I was trying to talk to Amanda and my buddy, Jim about his job, so we stepped outside for a minute. I led the trio out of the front door...and blammo!
I don't know if you've ever been shat upon, but it kind of sucks. This massive poop landed directly on my left shoulder. That's a bit too close to my face! I also felt something hit my neck and the back of my head. It took me a moment to realize what had happened. At first I thought it was condensation from an A/C unit, but then realized it was more than just a drip. Then I thought someone threw up out of a window above the bar, but there wasn't enough for it to be vomit. That's when I glanced up (risky!) to see the freshly relieved pigeon turn and strut away. I looked at Jim and Amanda who were confused and stunned.
"I just got shat upon," I said, nonchalantly.
Somewhere between the laughter Amanda was able to remind me that getting shit on by a bird is supposed to be good luck.
Amanda ran inside to grab me some napkins. I stood, frozen, outside of the bar and had Jim check my neck and hair for any poo-poo splatter. He didn't see any, just some clear liquid like water...yes...it was liquid pigeon butt-juice. I also noticed a bit of the dark broon on my thumb.
Amanda came back out and began wiping the mound off of my shoulder. A lump of it landed on my arm, adding a bit of insult to injury. I grabbed a napkin and wiped off my head and neck.
Jim mentioned that he was on the verge of getting sick. I mentioned that it was strange how the shit never smelled. How does shit not stink? It makes me wonder if this is true of all birds or is it just pigeons? Or was it just this particular pigeon...or just this particular pigeon's singular poop?
This isn't a science project I think I'm going to study any time soon, it just made me wonder. By the way, I hit up Brooklyn Industries on the corner of the block and got a new shirt. So it wasn't all bad! And if getting shit on by a bird is good luck, I should be the luckiest mofo in the world with the amount of shit with which I was hit!
If you have ever been to New York or seen a movie that takes place in New York, you know that there are pigeons everywhere. When I first moved up here, I wondered how often people got shat on by pigeons. I also wondered how long it would take before I was inevitably shat on. Roughly nine weeks and one and a half days.
Amanda and I met up with some friends at the most awesome sports bar EVER, 200 5th. They have a huge projector screen in the back of the place and individual TVs for each person sitting at a table. I'm not saying there is a TV at each table...I'm saying there is a TV for each person! And you can get them to tune in to whatever game you want!
Needless to say, this past Sunday every TV was tuned in to the Fifa Women's World Cup Final. I was seated on a long bench seat between three people. I get a bit claustrophobic, so I had to take a break and get out from the middle of the bench. It was noisy inside the bar and I was trying to talk to Amanda and my buddy, Jim about his job, so we stepped outside for a minute. I led the trio out of the front door...and blammo!
I don't know if you've ever been shat upon, but it kind of sucks. This massive poop landed directly on my left shoulder. That's a bit too close to my face! I also felt something hit my neck and the back of my head. It took me a moment to realize what had happened. At first I thought it was condensation from an A/C unit, but then realized it was more than just a drip. Then I thought someone threw up out of a window above the bar, but there wasn't enough for it to be vomit. That's when I glanced up (risky!) to see the freshly relieved pigeon turn and strut away. I looked at Jim and Amanda who were confused and stunned.
"I just got shat upon," I said, nonchalantly.
Somewhere between the laughter Amanda was able to remind me that getting shit on by a bird is supposed to be good luck.
Amanda ran inside to grab me some napkins. I stood, frozen, outside of the bar and had Jim check my neck and hair for any poo-poo splatter. He didn't see any, just some clear liquid like water...yes...it was liquid pigeon butt-juice. I also noticed a bit of the dark broon on my thumb.
Amanda came back out and began wiping the mound off of my shoulder. A lump of it landed on my arm, adding a bit of insult to injury. I grabbed a napkin and wiped off my head and neck.
Jim mentioned that he was on the verge of getting sick. I mentioned that it was strange how the shit never smelled. How does shit not stink? It makes me wonder if this is true of all birds or is it just pigeons? Or was it just this particular pigeon...or just this particular pigeon's singular poop?
This isn't a science project I think I'm going to study any time soon, it just made me wonder. By the way, I hit up Brooklyn Industries on the corner of the block and got a new shirt. So it wasn't all bad! And if getting shit on by a bird is good luck, I should be the luckiest mofo in the world with the amount of shit with which I was hit!
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
It's paid for! Now get rid of it!
For those of you who read this on a regular basis, you'll know that I had a bit of trouble with keeping my car out of the hands of NYC's fucked up punishment system.
Quick recap:
Got a ticket on my birthday for no apparent reason, then got towed the following day (after moving my car to a location to avoid another ticket) to a location only revealed to me by a construction worker who was directing traffic and only after speaking to several NYC police precincts who could all tell me nothing except to walk around and look for my car...which I did...twice.
So, after that experience, and then waking up one morning to walk the dogs and finding a van parked on my car, we have now decided to get rid of our Yaris...just two months after paying it off.
What's that? Oh, yeah! The van!
I got up and threw on some clothes and shoes and took Abby and Red out to use the sidewalk (and a small tree that Red is bound and determined to piss to death). My car was parked directly in front of my apartment building. Now, as a general rule, people are basically allowed one tap when parallel parking. That's a tap to the bumper of the car in front of and behind you while trying to park. Most people in New York have guards on their bumpers to avoid scratches. The ones that don't have bumpers that look like scratching posts for a litter of kittens.
This particular day there was a black van actually backed completely up to where their back bumper was literally touching my front bumper over the span of a good two feet or more. Needless to say, this bothered me. Then I look inside the van to see a guy sleeping in the passenger seat. So I knocked on the window. He stirred and sluggishly pulled himself up from his reclined seat and opened the door.
"Do you think you could get someone to move the van up so your not sitting on top of my car?"
He looked confused.
So I explained further, "Your van is literally touching my car." He slowly drug himself out of the van and shuffled to the back to see what I was talking about. Without even a word, he turned to get back in the van. At this point Red, my bigger dog, jumped at him and barked...he agreed that it was fucked up for these guys to be parked this way. I pulled back on Red's leash to let the passenger get by.
Suddenly the driver sits up out of nowhere and starts up the van. I had no idea there was even a driver in there! He pulls up a foot or so and they look to me for approval. I nod my head and return my attention to my dogs, and the return to their slumber.
As for the car, there is a bit of a light scratch that spans the length of where the van was parked on it. It's enough to piss me off, but that's about it.
The fact is, there really is no need for a car in NY. There are Zip cars and rentals and an amazing public transportation system. At this point it only really serves as a target for people in black vans!
After these incidents, realizing our lack of need, and the quotes on how expensive insurance is in NY, we've decided to just let the car go.
My brother is in need of a car, so I offered it to him...but it looks like he'd rather have a car payment than take mine off my hands.
It's okay, though, because my in-laws would also like to have it to bring to their house in Florida to have when they are down there.
I do find it interesting that I'm trying to give my car away to family member in need and I have to have a back-up plan just in case...oh well! Not my loss...or is it?
Quick recap:
Got a ticket on my birthday for no apparent reason, then got towed the following day (after moving my car to a location to avoid another ticket) to a location only revealed to me by a construction worker who was directing traffic and only after speaking to several NYC police precincts who could all tell me nothing except to walk around and look for my car...which I did...twice.
So, after that experience, and then waking up one morning to walk the dogs and finding a van parked on my car, we have now decided to get rid of our Yaris...just two months after paying it off.
What's that? Oh, yeah! The van!
I got up and threw on some clothes and shoes and took Abby and Red out to use the sidewalk (and a small tree that Red is bound and determined to piss to death). My car was parked directly in front of my apartment building. Now, as a general rule, people are basically allowed one tap when parallel parking. That's a tap to the bumper of the car in front of and behind you while trying to park. Most people in New York have guards on their bumpers to avoid scratches. The ones that don't have bumpers that look like scratching posts for a litter of kittens.
This particular day there was a black van actually backed completely up to where their back bumper was literally touching my front bumper over the span of a good two feet or more. Needless to say, this bothered me. Then I look inside the van to see a guy sleeping in the passenger seat. So I knocked on the window. He stirred and sluggishly pulled himself up from his reclined seat and opened the door.
"Do you think you could get someone to move the van up so your not sitting on top of my car?"
He looked confused.
So I explained further, "Your van is literally touching my car." He slowly drug himself out of the van and shuffled to the back to see what I was talking about. Without even a word, he turned to get back in the van. At this point Red, my bigger dog, jumped at him and barked...he agreed that it was fucked up for these guys to be parked this way. I pulled back on Red's leash to let the passenger get by.
Suddenly the driver sits up out of nowhere and starts up the van. I had no idea there was even a driver in there! He pulls up a foot or so and they look to me for approval. I nod my head and return my attention to my dogs, and the return to their slumber.
As for the car, there is a bit of a light scratch that spans the length of where the van was parked on it. It's enough to piss me off, but that's about it.
The fact is, there really is no need for a car in NY. There are Zip cars and rentals and an amazing public transportation system. At this point it only really serves as a target for people in black vans!
After these incidents, realizing our lack of need, and the quotes on how expensive insurance is in NY, we've decided to just let the car go.
My brother is in need of a car, so I offered it to him...but it looks like he'd rather have a car payment than take mine off my hands.
It's okay, though, because my in-laws would also like to have it to bring to their house in Florida to have when they are down there.
I do find it interesting that I'm trying to give my car away to family member in need and I have to have a back-up plan just in case...oh well! Not my loss...or is it?
Thursday, June 30, 2011
That Shit was Ill, Yo!
I got out of the apartment last night and joined my buddy, The Jim Cremins, for an evening of short films and stage productions put on by Left Hip Productions. They had a great concept and the execution was amazing considering the lack of budget for the videos. All in all, it was a great night. I hope to join up with them in the future to collaborate on a few projects.
So, after the show, Jim and I walked up to Times Square and caught our respective trains home. Him on the N train to Queens and me on the N train to Brooklyn. As we approached the stairs leading down to our platforms, my train arrived. I said a quick good-by to Jim, exchanged a pound, and hauled ass down the stairs. A mob was already awaiting the N train on the platform, so as soon as the doors slid open, the cars filled up. I was (un)lucky enough to jump on the last car. Being able to take the N train all the way home is a blessing. Otherwise, I would have to stop at Atlantic/Pacific in Brooklyn and transfer to the R train. On late nights, the N train runs all of the R train stops, so I was able to "settle" in for the ride all they way home. I took my lean in one of the corners of the train car and pulled out my phone to complete a crossword puzzle or two on the ride back.
Now, typically, the trains aren't quiet. People talk. Some talk on cell phones. Others to one another. Some are paranoid schizophrenics who talk to people who aren't even there. This particular night there was a large black family that took up a good deal of the end of the car I happened to occupy as well. When I say they were a large family, I mean that in both quantity and size. Along with this mass came the boisterous voices of women talking about some trifling "ni**a (that) be cheatin all the time!" Now, usually I'm not bothered by loud people (except kids...kids that are loud are often obnoxious), however this woman just had this attitude and voice about her that just got under my skin.
Okay, now combine that woman with the large Asian family that was standing up across from me at my end of the car. Now when I say large, I only mean in quantity. These were the wiry semi-dorky Asian types. The dad was loud as hell, too...but he was speaking a different language.
So now I have Miss Air-Out-All-My-Shit-And-Not-Give-A-Fuck versus Mr. Loud-Foreign-Language-Guy. Every now and then Loud-Foreign-Language-Guy would pull ahead, but mainly because he was so close to me and was trying to entertain his kids by fake fighting with them...seriously! Like making hitting noises and using his legs to throw his kids around! It was like some insane training for reject Spartans!
Miss Air-Out-All-My-Shit-And-Not-Give-A-Fuck pretty much maintained the lead by informing the entire train that this guy was a dumb-ass and that his "boo" became suspicious about some phone calls that kept coming in and he tried saying it was bill collectors. Apparently this tactic doesn't work. Also, apparently if you're attractive it's a pass to cheat...or at least be forgiven for cheating. This woman went on about how "he uh ugly ni**a, too!" I guess ugly people don't get a pass.
At some point, the Asian family forfeited and left the train, allowing Miss Air-Out-All-My-Shit-And-Not-Give-A-Fuck to do her victory lap which included talking over the conductor. I don't know how many NYC subways you've been on, but when a conductor talks over the loudspeaker, it's near impossible to understand him/her. Couple that with the fact that they usually choose to use the loudspeaker when the door are wide open and another train is passing on a nearby track and it gets even more difficult. Now add this loud mouth bitch into the equation and I didn't hear a damn thing the conductor said!
This can be kinda important since the conductor will often announce that we can all go fuck ourselves and find a different way home since this particular train will only go to two more stops. Luckily this turned out not to be the case...this time. And the woman kept jawing.
By then, I'd managed to get so upset by these loud individuals that I'd broken into a sweat and had troubles concentrating on my crosswords. Allow me to share a quote from a psychopath in a fictional film:
So, after the show, Jim and I walked up to Times Square and caught our respective trains home. Him on the N train to Queens and me on the N train to Brooklyn. As we approached the stairs leading down to our platforms, my train arrived. I said a quick good-by to Jim, exchanged a pound, and hauled ass down the stairs. A mob was already awaiting the N train on the platform, so as soon as the doors slid open, the cars filled up. I was (un)lucky enough to jump on the last car. Being able to take the N train all the way home is a blessing. Otherwise, I would have to stop at Atlantic/Pacific in Brooklyn and transfer to the R train. On late nights, the N train runs all of the R train stops, so I was able to "settle" in for the ride all they way home. I took my lean in one of the corners of the train car and pulled out my phone to complete a crossword puzzle or two on the ride back.
Now, typically, the trains aren't quiet. People talk. Some talk on cell phones. Others to one another. Some are paranoid schizophrenics who talk to people who aren't even there. This particular night there was a large black family that took up a good deal of the end of the car I happened to occupy as well. When I say they were a large family, I mean that in both quantity and size. Along with this mass came the boisterous voices of women talking about some trifling "ni**a (that) be cheatin all the time!" Now, usually I'm not bothered by loud people (except kids...kids that are loud are often obnoxious), however this woman just had this attitude and voice about her that just got under my skin.
Okay, now combine that woman with the large Asian family that was standing up across from me at my end of the car. Now when I say large, I only mean in quantity. These were the wiry semi-dorky Asian types. The dad was loud as hell, too...but he was speaking a different language.
So now I have Miss Air-Out-All-My-Shit-And-Not-Give-A-Fuck versus Mr. Loud-Foreign-Language-Guy. Every now and then Loud-Foreign-Language-Guy would pull ahead, but mainly because he was so close to me and was trying to entertain his kids by fake fighting with them...seriously! Like making hitting noises and using his legs to throw his kids around! It was like some insane training for reject Spartans!
Miss Air-Out-All-My-Shit-And-Not-Give-A-Fuck pretty much maintained the lead by informing the entire train that this guy was a dumb-ass and that his "boo" became suspicious about some phone calls that kept coming in and he tried saying it was bill collectors. Apparently this tactic doesn't work. Also, apparently if you're attractive it's a pass to cheat...or at least be forgiven for cheating. This woman went on about how "he uh ugly ni**a, too!" I guess ugly people don't get a pass.
At some point, the Asian family forfeited and left the train, allowing Miss Air-Out-All-My-Shit-And-Not-Give-A-Fuck to do her victory lap which included talking over the conductor. I don't know how many NYC subways you've been on, but when a conductor talks over the loudspeaker, it's near impossible to understand him/her. Couple that with the fact that they usually choose to use the loudspeaker when the door are wide open and another train is passing on a nearby track and it gets even more difficult. Now add this loud mouth bitch into the equation and I didn't hear a damn thing the conductor said!
This can be kinda important since the conductor will often announce that we can all go fuck ourselves and find a different way home since this particular train will only go to two more stops. Luckily this turned out not to be the case...this time. And the woman kept jawing.
By then, I'd managed to get so upset by these loud individuals that I'd broken into a sweat and had troubles concentrating on my crosswords. Allow me to share a quote from a psychopath in a fictional film:
On the subway today, a man came to me to
start a conversation. He made small talk,
this lonely man, talking about the weather
and other things. I tried to be pleasant
and accommodating, but my head began to
hurt from his banality. I almost didn't
notice it had happened, but I suddenly
threw up all over him. He was not pleased,
and I couldn't help laughing....I wanted to throw up on this woman. I literally felt nauseous, leaning in my corner, drenched in a cold sweat. My stomach began to turn and my head felt lighter by the minute. I eventually returned my phone to the lower right cargo pocket of my shorts and held on, trying not to think about the bile I wished to spew on this woman. She had been drowning me in her filth for 20 minutes. The least I could do was return the favor.
Finally I came to my stop and quickly exited the train. I made my way up the stairs and breathed in the cool, fresh air. I felt the evening breeze bringing relief to my dampened skin. And, finally, I went home.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
New Yorkers are such assholes!!
Amanda and I loved to come up to New York and visit before we moved here. It seemed like every time we came up here, there was some pompous know-it-all asshole in the subway trying to help us when we couldn't find our way around town through the rail system! I mean, the audacity of these people to ask us if we need help just because we're looking at a map!
Oh! And then there was the day we were meeting up with a friend who was in town visiting. We had just moved to Brooklyn and could officially consider ourselves "New Yorkers" when we popped out of the subway downtown Manhattan and this old guy, who was ordering some other poor person around (probably some tourist!), took my momentary pause to orientate myself as me not knowing where to go and demands to help out. Being the southern gentleman that I am and not wanting to be a dick, I kindly tell him we just need to find south. This prick not only guides me south, but explains the cross streets and "helps" me get my orientation.
And just the other day, there was a group of Asian teens cutting up and goofing off on the F train when an elderly woman got on at one of the stops. This one kid had the gall to get up and let her have his seat! Like she can't stand or something! Like her fucking legs are broken!
I'm getting too worked up over this...I'll report more later. Fuckin' New Yorkers!
Oh! And then there was the day we were meeting up with a friend who was in town visiting. We had just moved to Brooklyn and could officially consider ourselves "New Yorkers" when we popped out of the subway downtown Manhattan and this old guy, who was ordering some other poor person around (probably some tourist!), took my momentary pause to orientate myself as me not knowing where to go and demands to help out. Being the southern gentleman that I am and not wanting to be a dick, I kindly tell him we just need to find south. This prick not only guides me south, but explains the cross streets and "helps" me get my orientation.
And just the other day, there was a group of Asian teens cutting up and goofing off on the F train when an elderly woman got on at one of the stops. This one kid had the gall to get up and let her have his seat! Like she can't stand or something! Like her fucking legs are broken!
I'm getting too worked up over this...I'll report more later. Fuckin' New Yorkers!
Monday, June 27, 2011
Je Suis Fatigué.
It's been a bit since I've been able to blog. I went back to Charlotte, NC for Brennan and Hannah Roth's wedding. It was awesome! It was also really nice to get back to Charlotte for a few days and catch up with some friends and actually drive a car around town!
Amanda and I went by our old house. It was a bit weird, but I didn't really have the emotional response I thought I might. I think this entire move to NY is still a bit surreal. Leaving NYC for five days, then returning to our Brooklyn apartment definitely helps make New York feel more like home.
So, nobody told me to stop talking about our move-in experience, therefore I will pick up where I left off on my last check-in.
(Brief note: When we came back home from the wedding, there was still nothing express about the Staten Island Expressway. In fact, we found that they even mock us by posting 50 mph speed limits.)
Okay, the move in. As I stated in my last blog, we made it to our new apartment at 7:00pm. The suck thing is, we were supposed to be here at 6:30pm for the two guys that we hired to help us move in. By the time we got here and got the truck in position and the keys to our apartment, it was close to 7:30. As this was a Saturday, our hired help had to be done by 8:00, but agreed to stay until 8:30 to help us out. Since we got such a late start, we asked them to focus on the big stuff.
We are on the top floor of a four story walk up...with a narrow stairwell. I know you're thinking, "That sucks, but you have help, so it shouldn't be too bad. All you have to do is grab the small stuff."
And you would be totally correct in thinking that, if, the day prior we hadn't had to spend half a day in Charlotte heat and humidity packing the truck! Then driving an hour to Waxhaw only to load more into the truck. Then stay up way too late to get as much family time in as we could before we went to bed, got up way too early and spent way too long on the road driving. By the time we got to Brooklyn all we wanted to do was get a bite to eat, lay down and go to sleep. But no...we still had to move our stuff up three flights of stairs and into our new home. AND...because the staircase was so narrow and the help limited, I had to jump in on several occasions to help get the big stuff upstairs.
About half way through, Amanda and I were beyond exhausted. Our legs were on the verge of giving out. We just didn't have it in us anymore, physically. So I called for backup. Joey Westcott became our savior that night!! He showed up and just jumped in! He was grabbing stuff and running upstairs and setting it down. He was like Superman to our Handyman. We couldn't have finished without him!
One of our movers made a deal with me...he would give me another 15 minutes if I would allow him to use our restroom to freshen up so he could get to Manhattan. I would be an idiot to deny him! Even if he couldn't give me the extra 15 minutes, I would be an asshole to deny him! By the time the movers were done, all of our big items were in the apartment. Joey stuck it in there with us until it was over completely. Just as we were grabbing the last of the small stuff, the rain started. It held off as long as it could.
For anyone out there that thinks all New Yorkers are just a bunch of assholes, let me give you a different idea of what I've experienced. As the movers and I were trying to figure out where to pull the truck up to be as close as possible to the building, one of my neighbors came out to help. He moved his car, then his motorcycle. He opened the gate in front of my building and helped guide the truck back into the driveway. When we finished up, he came back to help close everything up and get the truck out. That was just our first experience with New Yorkers. There will be more to come...
With love,
Your NYC Scrub
Amanda and I went by our old house. It was a bit weird, but I didn't really have the emotional response I thought I might. I think this entire move to NY is still a bit surreal. Leaving NYC for five days, then returning to our Brooklyn apartment definitely helps make New York feel more like home.
So, nobody told me to stop talking about our move-in experience, therefore I will pick up where I left off on my last check-in.
(Brief note: When we came back home from the wedding, there was still nothing express about the Staten Island Expressway. In fact, we found that they even mock us by posting 50 mph speed limits.)
Okay, the move in. As I stated in my last blog, we made it to our new apartment at 7:00pm. The suck thing is, we were supposed to be here at 6:30pm for the two guys that we hired to help us move in. By the time we got here and got the truck in position and the keys to our apartment, it was close to 7:30. As this was a Saturday, our hired help had to be done by 8:00, but agreed to stay until 8:30 to help us out. Since we got such a late start, we asked them to focus on the big stuff.
We are on the top floor of a four story walk up...with a narrow stairwell. I know you're thinking, "That sucks, but you have help, so it shouldn't be too bad. All you have to do is grab the small stuff."
And you would be totally correct in thinking that, if, the day prior we hadn't had to spend half a day in Charlotte heat and humidity packing the truck! Then driving an hour to Waxhaw only to load more into the truck. Then stay up way too late to get as much family time in as we could before we went to bed, got up way too early and spent way too long on the road driving. By the time we got to Brooklyn all we wanted to do was get a bite to eat, lay down and go to sleep. But no...we still had to move our stuff up three flights of stairs and into our new home. AND...because the staircase was so narrow and the help limited, I had to jump in on several occasions to help get the big stuff upstairs.
About half way through, Amanda and I were beyond exhausted. Our legs were on the verge of giving out. We just didn't have it in us anymore, physically. So I called for backup. Joey Westcott became our savior that night!! He showed up and just jumped in! He was grabbing stuff and running upstairs and setting it down. He was like Superman to our Handyman. We couldn't have finished without him!
One of our movers made a deal with me...he would give me another 15 minutes if I would allow him to use our restroom to freshen up so he could get to Manhattan. I would be an idiot to deny him! Even if he couldn't give me the extra 15 minutes, I would be an asshole to deny him! By the time the movers were done, all of our big items were in the apartment. Joey stuck it in there with us until it was over completely. Just as we were grabbing the last of the small stuff, the rain started. It held off as long as it could.
For anyone out there that thinks all New Yorkers are just a bunch of assholes, let me give you a different idea of what I've experienced. As the movers and I were trying to figure out where to pull the truck up to be as close as possible to the building, one of my neighbors came out to help. He moved his car, then his motorcycle. He opened the gate in front of my building and helped guide the truck back into the driveway. When we finished up, he came back to help close everything up and get the truck out. That was just our first experience with New Yorkers. There will be more to come...
With love,
Your NYC Scrub
Monday, June 13, 2011
Back dat thang up.
Okay, when I started this blog I assumed that if anyone was going to read it, it would be my wife...and maybe a friend or two. It has come to my attention that other people who may not know me may be following this. So, I'll give a brief rundown of my life:
Born in Honolulu, Hawai'i to a Taiwanese mother and Scots-Irish father who was serving his country in the Air Force at the time and stationed at Hickam AFB. I moved a lot as a kid. From Hawai'i to Maine, to Nebraska, to Germany, to Texas where my father retired from the Air Force and moved home to North Carolina. I ended up in Charlotte when I was about 15. I went to college at UNC-Wilmington and then went back to Charlotte. I met my wife, we bought a house, we got married and about a month ago, we moved to NYC!
I've visited NYC on many occasions, but none of those vacations could have prepared me for living here!
Now that you have a bit of knowledge about me, we'll fast-forward to moving day. I rented a 16' box truck and packed to its' ass with all of our belongings. When I say it was packed to the ass, I mean it! There was about enough room left to toss in all of Lebron James' championship rings!
We spent our last night in Charlotte with my in-laws and woke up at 4 o'clock on the morning of May 14th and began our trip to our future home at 5:30am. Considering I was in a 16' box truck and could only drive about 65 mph (for the sake of gas mileage) and my wife, Amanda, was driving our car with our two dogs aboard, we made decent time. We arrived at our Brooklyn apartment at 7pm.
Now, let me also say a few things about the drive.
One, the New Jersey Turnpike is boring as hell! Also, I'm not sure who came up with the "logo" for the New Jersey Turnpike, but it looks about as professional as a high school freshman with aspirations of drawing stick figures for a living. If you've never seen it, check it out here: http://www.google.com/search?client=safari&rls=en&q=new+jersey+turnpike&oe=UTF-8&um=1&ie=UTF-8&tbm=isch&source=og&sa=N&hl=en&tab=wi&biw=1440&bih=749
Two, when traveling with a cat, a half of a feline dose of Valium is not enough to shut them up. Getting them to take the second half is impossible...I don't know why. I've had Valium before...I would have taken the second half.
Three, there is absolutely NOTHING express about the Staten Island Expressway...NOTHING!! I even went to Jersey yesterday and returned on the SIE and it was just as congested as it was when I moved up here.
Four, if you can, drive in the center lane. Lanes will end with absolutely no notice.
Five, the Verrazano Bridge is narrow. VERY narrow. My wife was driving our Toyota Yaris and was scared of how narrow the lanes were...I was in a 16' box truck. And people were still passing me!
Six, you can't talk on your cell phone in NYC. As I crossed into Brooklyn over the Verrazano, my broker called to meet me at my new apartment. As we were working out details, I was waved down by NYC's finest. As I was pulling over, one of them yelled to the other, "He can't hear you! He's on his cell phone!" I pulled over and got off the phone. I rolled down my window as the officer approached and the conversation went something like this:
Officer: "Where are you coming from?"
Me: "Charlotte, North Carolina."
Officer: "They don't have cell phone laws in North Carolina?"
Me: "Nope!"
Officer, realizing his point was lost: "Well you can't talk on your cell phone and operate a vehicle in New York City. If you had a New York City license, that would be two points on your license."
Me: "Okay."
I was then asked to step out of the truck and open the back. It was explained to me that New York was on high alert and had to stop all trucks entering the city and search them. Welcome to New York!
I think that's about all for the actual drive up. I'll be back soon to explain our move in.
By the way, if this is boring and you have no interest in hearing about the actual move, let me know and I'll skip it and move on.
Born in Honolulu, Hawai'i to a Taiwanese mother and Scots-Irish father who was serving his country in the Air Force at the time and stationed at Hickam AFB. I moved a lot as a kid. From Hawai'i to Maine, to Nebraska, to Germany, to Texas where my father retired from the Air Force and moved home to North Carolina. I ended up in Charlotte when I was about 15. I went to college at UNC-Wilmington and then went back to Charlotte. I met my wife, we bought a house, we got married and about a month ago, we moved to NYC!
I've visited NYC on many occasions, but none of those vacations could have prepared me for living here!
Now that you have a bit of knowledge about me, we'll fast-forward to moving day. I rented a 16' box truck and packed to its' ass with all of our belongings. When I say it was packed to the ass, I mean it! There was about enough room left to toss in all of Lebron James' championship rings!
We spent our last night in Charlotte with my in-laws and woke up at 4 o'clock on the morning of May 14th and began our trip to our future home at 5:30am. Considering I was in a 16' box truck and could only drive about 65 mph (for the sake of gas mileage) and my wife, Amanda, was driving our car with our two dogs aboard, we made decent time. We arrived at our Brooklyn apartment at 7pm.
Now, let me also say a few things about the drive.
One, the New Jersey Turnpike is boring as hell! Also, I'm not sure who came up with the "logo" for the New Jersey Turnpike, but it looks about as professional as a high school freshman with aspirations of drawing stick figures for a living. If you've never seen it, check it out here: http://www.google.com/search?client=safari&rls=en&q=new+jersey+turnpike&oe=UTF-8&um=1&ie=UTF-8&tbm=isch&source=og&sa=N&hl=en&tab=wi&biw=1440&bih=749
Two, when traveling with a cat, a half of a feline dose of Valium is not enough to shut them up. Getting them to take the second half is impossible...I don't know why. I've had Valium before...I would have taken the second half.
Three, there is absolutely NOTHING express about the Staten Island Expressway...NOTHING!! I even went to Jersey yesterday and returned on the SIE and it was just as congested as it was when I moved up here.
Four, if you can, drive in the center lane. Lanes will end with absolutely no notice.
Five, the Verrazano Bridge is narrow. VERY narrow. My wife was driving our Toyota Yaris and was scared of how narrow the lanes were...I was in a 16' box truck. And people were still passing me!
Six, you can't talk on your cell phone in NYC. As I crossed into Brooklyn over the Verrazano, my broker called to meet me at my new apartment. As we were working out details, I was waved down by NYC's finest. As I was pulling over, one of them yelled to the other, "He can't hear you! He's on his cell phone!" I pulled over and got off the phone. I rolled down my window as the officer approached and the conversation went something like this:
Officer: "Where are you coming from?"
Me: "Charlotte, North Carolina."
Officer: "They don't have cell phone laws in North Carolina?"
Me: "Nope!"
Officer, realizing his point was lost: "Well you can't talk on your cell phone and operate a vehicle in New York City. If you had a New York City license, that would be two points on your license."
Me: "Okay."
I was then asked to step out of the truck and open the back. It was explained to me that New York was on high alert and had to stop all trucks entering the city and search them. Welcome to New York!
I think that's about all for the actual drive up. I'll be back soon to explain our move in.
By the way, if this is boring and you have no interest in hearing about the actual move, let me know and I'll skip it and move on.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Thank you, NYC...for kicking me in the nuts.
(Disclaimer, if you've already read my Facebook post this morning, you might just want to pass on this one, unless you want the full story, unabridged. (It's a bit funnier!))
Amanda and I were on our way home on my birthday from dinner and drinks when I notice a ticket on the windshield of our car. I grabbed it off the windshield and took a look. It was a citation for parking in a restricted construction zone.
Okay, so yes, they are working on the train trestle across the street from my apartment. And yes, they often block off a lot of street side parking because of said construction. They usually throw out a bunch of orange barrels where they will be blocking parking and put out signs on when they will need that street cleared. That said, I actually moved my car to the spot where I got the ticket because I was in one of the construction spots originally. There were three other cars along with mine that were wrongly ticketed. I took pictures of everything around my car to prove that there were no signs anywhere regarding parking in those places.
I then went online to dispute the ticket and found out that I had to wait a week before the ticket processed into the system! But, I had to dispute the ticket within 30 days of getting it or I would get a late fee. Not really that big of a deal, but when a quarter of your time is taken away from you, that's some bullshit!
After much cussing and realizing I could do nothing, I let it go. I will revisit in a week.
Then this morning I got up to let Abigail and Red out. As I stood there with two leashes in my hand and urine running down the sidewalk, I looked up to realize my car wasn't where I parked it. See, I moved my car the previous day after receiving the ticket so I wouldn't get another one. I parked it right past a section that was barreled off for construction...apparently that wasn't a good place either, even though there was nothing telling me not to park there!
After picking up a small mound of poop off of the sidewalk, I returned to my apartment...pissed as fuck!! After a stomping rant full of expletives, I went online to find out where my car had gone. I went on the NYC.gov site and put my plate number in...nothing. I tried again...nothing. So I called and they put it into the system...nothing. I told them about the construction and they said it was possible they "relocated" my vehicle.
Tangent: WHAT THE FUCK!!?? Back where I'm from, if a tow truck picks up your car, you have to pay dearly to get it back! Even if you catch them before they drive away, you have to pay! I have NEVER heard of a tow truck relocating a vehicle to a spot that is more convenient to the people who had it towed.
Okay, I'm back now. I was told to contact the NYPD precinct that would have been responsible for the tow. The woman was nice enough to connect me. Nobody answered, so I went out on foot to walk a few blocks to see if I could find it. I walked down to 2nd Ave, cut across to 11th Street, back up to 4th Ave and back down 10th Street to my apartment...nothing.
I went back upstairs and tried calling the precinct directly. They looked it up in the system and, yup, you guessed it...nothing! I explained that it was towed because of construction and she told me they may have relocated it. Okay, where would they have relocated it to? NOTHING!! I was actually told to walk around and look for it!! WHAT THE FUCK!!??
So I went back out on foot. I covered several more blocks before returning to my street...nothing. I decided to ask one of the construction workers who was directing traffic. He tells me they towed it to the Lowe's Home Improvement a few blocks from my place. Another guy walked up and asked where I had parked it. After I told him, he tried telling me there were signs out that told me not to park there. I told him I was parked past those signs and in my best I'm-really-pissed-off-don't-fuck-with-me-pseudo-Brooklyn voice I said, "I'm not stupid, I know where to park!" Then I walked off, somewhat defeated and very hopeful, in the direction of Lowe's.
And I found the car. Then I ended up looping block to block in search of a parking space. I found one a half-hour later. So after 2+ hours of that bullshit, I got to go home, eat breakfast, take a shower and then a nap. And as I complain about this ordeal, Amanda had to go to work and deal with 8+ hours of bullshit!
With Love,
Your NYC Scrub.
Amanda and I were on our way home on my birthday from dinner and drinks when I notice a ticket on the windshield of our car. I grabbed it off the windshield and took a look. It was a citation for parking in a restricted construction zone.
Okay, so yes, they are working on the train trestle across the street from my apartment. And yes, they often block off a lot of street side parking because of said construction. They usually throw out a bunch of orange barrels where they will be blocking parking and put out signs on when they will need that street cleared. That said, I actually moved my car to the spot where I got the ticket because I was in one of the construction spots originally. There were three other cars along with mine that were wrongly ticketed. I took pictures of everything around my car to prove that there were no signs anywhere regarding parking in those places.
I then went online to dispute the ticket and found out that I had to wait a week before the ticket processed into the system! But, I had to dispute the ticket within 30 days of getting it or I would get a late fee. Not really that big of a deal, but when a quarter of your time is taken away from you, that's some bullshit!
After much cussing and realizing I could do nothing, I let it go. I will revisit in a week.
Then this morning I got up to let Abigail and Red out. As I stood there with two leashes in my hand and urine running down the sidewalk, I looked up to realize my car wasn't where I parked it. See, I moved my car the previous day after receiving the ticket so I wouldn't get another one. I parked it right past a section that was barreled off for construction...apparently that wasn't a good place either, even though there was nothing telling me not to park there!
After picking up a small mound of poop off of the sidewalk, I returned to my apartment...pissed as fuck!! After a stomping rant full of expletives, I went online to find out where my car had gone. I went on the NYC.gov site and put my plate number in...nothing. I tried again...nothing. So I called and they put it into the system...nothing. I told them about the construction and they said it was possible they "relocated" my vehicle.
Tangent: WHAT THE FUCK!!?? Back where I'm from, if a tow truck picks up your car, you have to pay dearly to get it back! Even if you catch them before they drive away, you have to pay! I have NEVER heard of a tow truck relocating a vehicle to a spot that is more convenient to the people who had it towed.
Okay, I'm back now. I was told to contact the NYPD precinct that would have been responsible for the tow. The woman was nice enough to connect me. Nobody answered, so I went out on foot to walk a few blocks to see if I could find it. I walked down to 2nd Ave, cut across to 11th Street, back up to 4th Ave and back down 10th Street to my apartment...nothing.
I went back upstairs and tried calling the precinct directly. They looked it up in the system and, yup, you guessed it...nothing! I explained that it was towed because of construction and she told me they may have relocated it. Okay, where would they have relocated it to? NOTHING!! I was actually told to walk around and look for it!! WHAT THE FUCK!!??
So I went back out on foot. I covered several more blocks before returning to my street...nothing. I decided to ask one of the construction workers who was directing traffic. He tells me they towed it to the Lowe's Home Improvement a few blocks from my place. Another guy walked up and asked where I had parked it. After I told him, he tried telling me there were signs out that told me not to park there. I told him I was parked past those signs and in my best I'm-really-pissed-off-don't-fuck-with-me-pseudo-Brooklyn voice I said, "I'm not stupid, I know where to park!" Then I walked off, somewhat defeated and very hopeful, in the direction of Lowe's.
And I found the car. Then I ended up looping block to block in search of a parking space. I found one a half-hour later. So after 2+ hours of that bullshit, I got to go home, eat breakfast, take a shower and then a nap. And as I complain about this ordeal, Amanda had to go to work and deal with 8+ hours of bullshit!
With Love,
Your NYC Scrub.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Anyone out there?
So I started a blog...which means I need to keep up with a blog. I had two friends read it (that I know of) and figured I should just keep writing, if even just for the two of them!
So here it goes...
I received a card from my parents on Friday for my birthday. There was a nice check in said card. I have money!! I also received a check from my agent for an industrial shoot I did a few months back that I totally forgot about. Score!! (On a side note, I'm hoping my agent doesn't read this and figure since I forgot about that one, I'll forget about any others and just stop paying me!)
So, without a proper job in Brooklyn, I've managed to make some money to keep me afloat! Now I just have to wait patiently for my Army Wives residual checks to come in!
Okay, back to the job deal...I'm still not working, obviously. I have a lot of time to sit around and think of ideas, then not write them down, and totally forget them. By ideas, I mean for shorts or scripts or comedy routines. I feel like this is the place where I need to be the most creative. I think I have an idea for short comedy, but I need to write it and figure out how to get it shot. Maybe I'll just do it! That's what it takes, right? Just going out and doing it!? Nothing gets done sitting on my ass, except some writing and this blog.
I'm going home next week. When I return, I must hit the ground running and accomplish something! I'll let you know how that goes.
I'm loving Brooklyn more and more! Went out this past weekend and met some really cool peeps that live in the neighborhood and are from Charlotte. Funny story actually. Went out for my birthday on Friday night, Jim came out and chilled for a bit then went home to rest up for another long day of work. He crossed paths with Kris who arrived with shots in hand. Got to catch up with him for a while when his friends Derek and Erica showed up. Hung out with them, Amanda and Erica hit it off and Derek and I had a good time as well (at least I hope he did, too). Ended up going back to their place to chill after leaving the bar. At the end of the night (around 3:30am) we decided to leave. Derek and I went to exchange numbers. As he was programming my number, my name popped up. I was already in his phone! I decided to check my phone and...sure enough, there he was! We were both to messed up to really think about it that night, but we obviously had met at some point prior.
I digress. Amanda and I also did some work on the apartment on Sunday to make it feel a bit more like home, so we feel better about that as well. I took a long walk today up to the Target at Flatbush and Atlantic, right next to the currently-constructing Brooklyn Nets arena. Good walk. Love the neighborhood. Took care of some business I've been putting off. Feels good to check things off my list. Still feeling like a scrub! Especially when Amanda gives me cash for spending. Glad I got some money of my own to spend now!
I think I've said enough. I'll try to write again tomorrow. Thanks for checking in!
So here it goes...
I received a card from my parents on Friday for my birthday. There was a nice check in said card. I have money!! I also received a check from my agent for an industrial shoot I did a few months back that I totally forgot about. Score!! (On a side note, I'm hoping my agent doesn't read this and figure since I forgot about that one, I'll forget about any others and just stop paying me!)
So, without a proper job in Brooklyn, I've managed to make some money to keep me afloat! Now I just have to wait patiently for my Army Wives residual checks to come in!
Okay, back to the job deal...I'm still not working, obviously. I have a lot of time to sit around and think of ideas, then not write them down, and totally forget them. By ideas, I mean for shorts or scripts or comedy routines. I feel like this is the place where I need to be the most creative. I think I have an idea for short comedy, but I need to write it and figure out how to get it shot. Maybe I'll just do it! That's what it takes, right? Just going out and doing it!? Nothing gets done sitting on my ass, except some writing and this blog.
I'm going home next week. When I return, I must hit the ground running and accomplish something! I'll let you know how that goes.
I'm loving Brooklyn more and more! Went out this past weekend and met some really cool peeps that live in the neighborhood and are from Charlotte. Funny story actually. Went out for my birthday on Friday night, Jim came out and chilled for a bit then went home to rest up for another long day of work. He crossed paths with Kris who arrived with shots in hand. Got to catch up with him for a while when his friends Derek and Erica showed up. Hung out with them, Amanda and Erica hit it off and Derek and I had a good time as well (at least I hope he did, too). Ended up going back to their place to chill after leaving the bar. At the end of the night (around 3:30am) we decided to leave. Derek and I went to exchange numbers. As he was programming my number, my name popped up. I was already in his phone! I decided to check my phone and...sure enough, there he was! We were both to messed up to really think about it that night, but we obviously had met at some point prior.
I digress. Amanda and I also did some work on the apartment on Sunday to make it feel a bit more like home, so we feel better about that as well. I took a long walk today up to the Target at Flatbush and Atlantic, right next to the currently-constructing Brooklyn Nets arena. Good walk. Love the neighborhood. Took care of some business I've been putting off. Feels good to check things off my list. Still feeling like a scrub! Especially when Amanda gives me cash for spending. Glad I got some money of my own to spend now!
I think I've said enough. I'll try to write again tomorrow. Thanks for checking in!
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Have ambition, will work...some.
So, I've been in Brooklyn for about two and a half weeks and I've accomplished just about nothing. I've barely looked for work. Still haven't completely settled into the apartment. Still haven't changed my phone number. Still haven't gotten a NYS driver license. Still haven't canceled insurance on our old house or car. Still haven't cleaned the apartment to my liking or expectations. Honestly, most of this comes out of being overwhelmed. There is just so much to do and I'm so unfamiliar with the area. They say you can pretty much do anything in NYC, but all I really want to do is hang out with my friends from Charlotte, drink a cold beer at Sanctuary and drive my car to South Park mall and walk around in the A/C.
Don't get me wrong, I love living in Brooklyn! When Amanda and I get out and walk around Prospect Park or I meet up with her at Bryant Park for lunch during the week, everything feels great and right! I think I just have too much time to think while sitting on my ever-expanding ass while watching SportsCenter and wondering what time Amanda is going to be off of work. Mix in a few trips downstairs to let the dogs out (which is just enough movement to get me sweating again) and you pretty much have my typical weekday.
I did recently send my headshot off to three different projects on Actors' Access but heard nothing back. I also submitted my resume to a feature film that shoots in NYC in July to work as crew, but still waiting on that as well. I found the "perfect" job yesterday online for an Office/Studio Manager position at a photography studio and submitted my resume to them. I say "perfect" because the breakdown almost seemed to be written for me! It's essentially what I did for over two years working for Stephanie Chesson in Charlotte. Still waiting to hear from them as well. We'll see how "perfect" they find me to be.
Part of my reasoning for not finding a job is my career. I need to find a job that I can work and still be able to audition and act. I also would like to take classes, but those cost money, which I don't have...cause I don't work. I also need to update my headshots...again, money. I feel like I had the perfect balance in Charlotte, but it took time for me to find. I just need to be patient and the balance will come.
I think I've rambled enough. Until next time...
Don't get me wrong, I love living in Brooklyn! When Amanda and I get out and walk around Prospect Park or I meet up with her at Bryant Park for lunch during the week, everything feels great and right! I think I just have too much time to think while sitting on my ever-expanding ass while watching SportsCenter and wondering what time Amanda is going to be off of work. Mix in a few trips downstairs to let the dogs out (which is just enough movement to get me sweating again) and you pretty much have my typical weekday.
I did recently send my headshot off to three different projects on Actors' Access but heard nothing back. I also submitted my resume to a feature film that shoots in NYC in July to work as crew, but still waiting on that as well. I found the "perfect" job yesterday online for an Office/Studio Manager position at a photography studio and submitted my resume to them. I say "perfect" because the breakdown almost seemed to be written for me! It's essentially what I did for over two years working for Stephanie Chesson in Charlotte. Still waiting to hear from them as well. We'll see how "perfect" they find me to be.
Part of my reasoning for not finding a job is my career. I need to find a job that I can work and still be able to audition and act. I also would like to take classes, but those cost money, which I don't have...cause I don't work. I also need to update my headshots...again, money. I feel like I had the perfect balance in Charlotte, but it took time for me to find. I just need to be patient and the balance will come.
I think I've rambled enough. Until next time...
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