Let me begin with the fact that this is not the last blog post. This is, however, the last post about my string of adventures. In about a week, school starts again and the rate of adventuring goes down dramatically. I might be getting a job at WalMart so that might be an adventure... fingers crossed right?
Anyways, let me start where I left off, a lot has happened so kick back and get ready to read quite a bit. After my buddy left, I got an opportunity to attend a concert in Long Island thanks to my second job with Altrocklive. The review of the concert will be up in the next few days. So, I won't go over the details of the concert too much, but some of the people in attendance were pretty entertaining. The concert was for The Dirty Heads and Matisyahu, a very reggae feeling. This type of music apparently draws in a very diverse crowd. There were high schoolers and retirees bouncing to the music together. And, unsurprisingly, the interesting people in the crowd were the older people. There was a father who was trying to update his facebook status about the concert but couldn't spell "reggae" and tried multiple times and finally gave up and just said "concert." Another set of older people were watching out for their incredibly drunk friend who was making a bigger fool of himself than a fratboy at a tailgate.
Not much happened for a while after that concert. I was supposed to go to another one, but they didn't let me in since I wasn't 21, so I ended up standing in the rain trying to get ahold of the band's PR guy who finally got in touch with the bouncer to say that he hadn't heard of me, despite the fact that I was on the list. Later that week, my boss and fellow writer from Altrocklive came to a music festival in the city and crashed at my place. After they found my apartment, we walked down the street to get some subway at the 24/7 subway restaurant! (I love NYC). The writer, born and raised in Boston, mentions to the cashier at subway that he was scared to be in the Bronx. If there was a way to ask to be shanked other than saying "please shank me" that would be it. But, I guess someone up there was watching out for this kid, since the cashier sort of chuckled and rolled his eyes. The following night the guy I stayed with in Huntington, WV came to visit NYC with his friend and they crashed at my place. They had some funny stories about their experiences downtown and were clearly worn out from all of the walking.
About a week later, my friend Lisa, from Colorado, came to visit me. She'd never seen NYC before and wanted to do all of the touristy things. So, I re-opened vacation bootcamp. We made a list of everything she wanted to see, we bought the NYC pass that allowed us "free" admission to a wide variety of sites for 3 days. The first day, we do the Statue of Liberty, Battery Park, and Ellis Island. If you've ever waited in line for the Statue of Liberty/Ellis Island, you know why it took us a whole day to get it done. Granted, we started at noon, but whatever, the lines were long. Yet, magically, we got to cut the lines. What should have been an hour and a half wait turned into 30 minutes. It was nice. Granted, that thirty minute wait was followed by another thirty minute wait and another fifteen minute wait, but still an hour and fifteen minutes is better than two hours and fifteen minutes. At Ellis Island, we hustled through the sites, to try and stay on schedule, but when we got outside, and saw that the line wrapped half-way around the island (seriously) we realized that whatever our plans were for that afternoon, they just got cancelled. In line, we met a mormon girl who apparently was around 26/27. I started flirting and asking her about her world travel, then suddenly the conversation halts when she drops the "my husband" line. Whoops. Since then, I almost always check for a ring first.
After we got back to the city, we hit up a restaurant that our pass got us a discount at as well as a department store, where I bought THE most comfortable underwear ever (Lucky Brand Boxer Briefs). We also went to Madame Tussaud's wax museum in Times Square. That was potentially one of the best places we went to that entire weekend. It was so much fun getting to take pictures with fake celebrities. Getting to act out scenes we wish would happen (Kissing Angelina Jolie and pushing Brad Pitt out of the picture).
That night, we worked our way up to the top of the empire state building. It is a beautiful sight up there. I love NYC. I was able to tell some Australian women which river was which, and what they were looking at. But, the downside is, the grates around the observation deck make it hard to take pictures, but it's still breath taking, especially at night.
The next day, we got an early start so we could hit a lot of sites. We started at the Intrepid, a retired aircraft carrier turned museum. It was pretty sweet, but made me realize that I would never cut it in the navy, particularly not on a sub (we also got to tour the Growler, a submarine). The World Trade Center monument was absolutely gorgeous. There was a taste of sad beauty to it. The cascading water, the peaceful trees in the bustling city. Knowing that so many lives were lost right there. It was an amazing and touching experience. Next, we hit up the Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art (MoMA). We did the bootcamp tour, not stopping for anything. We saw Starry Night and some other pretty famous pieces, and unlike in Italy, you're allowed to take pictures, which was cool. Once we left MoMA, we grabbed lunch in Central Park and walked an obscene distance up through the park to the Museum of Natural History. By the time we got there, we were pretty delirious. All of the information, we either already knew, or didn't care to really learn. So we hustled through, motivated by a sense of obligation to see everything we could possibly see. When we left the natural history museum, I went back to the Bronx to do some work really quickly, and Lisa went to Mass at St. Patrick's (apparently the largest Cathedral in the Western Hemisphere). Quickly, however, turned into not so quickly, because, as it turns out, the train that we were both banking on taking us directly where we needed to go, doesn't run on weekends, or at least not on that weekend. So, Lisa showed up just as communion started, and what should have been an hour and a half turned into three hours.
Anyways, we meet back up in Times Square and head over to the Spy Museum, which is apparently closed. We missed it by 20 minutes. If it weren't for that stupid train! Oh well. We walk back through Times Square to Rockefeller center and go up to The Top of the Rock. It's an observation deck surrounded by Plexi glass, not fencing. It offers spectacular views of the city, including views of The Empire State building, something you can't see from the Empire State Building. Personally, I'd suggest hitting up The Top of the Rock instead of the Empire State Building if you ever visit NYC because the views are better and the lines are shorter. Also, you'll have an opportunity to practice your French. There seemed to be an odd conglomeration of French people at this building, with whom I attempted, and barely succeeded, to communicate with, in French. Anyhow, we left the Top of the Rock and walked back to Times Square to walk through Ripley's Believe it or Not. It was cool, but not that cool. Nothing really amazing, believe it or not.
The last day of vacation bootcamp was supposed to be relaxing. We set aside this day to enjoy all the free cruises around the Island that came with our pass. The first cruise was very informative. The tour guide dropped info about all the sites we were passing, but Lisa was passed out and I was too tired to care. But, when he said the deck was open, I hustled down to get some rays. I also, managed to ask an Italian woman to take a picture of me, in Italian. I was feeling pretty proud about my poor language skills, especially after she asked me where I studied Italian. The second cruise, was technically a water taxi. We sat on the top deck and enjoyed the sun and views. The third, and unfortunately final, cruise was a tall ship. A giant sailboat if you will. We spent the entire time trying to figure out if the left-handed red head on board was Julianne Moore (we are roughly 90 percent positive it was). We finished our tour of the city with a trip back to the spy museum, which was kind of a let down. But, all in all, we had a great time.
The following week was filled with a bunch of interviews with MPH programs at NYU and Columbia and long work hours trying to prepare for the end of my internship. I was leaving the lab between midnight and 4 AM for about a week in a row. But, it all paid off. The lab sent me off with a great ice cream cake and pizza for my birthday and last day at work. My mom had a cake delivered to my apartment for my birthday. And my friend and fraternity brother Scott organized a 36 hour extravaganza to celebrate my entrance into the adult world.
We started the evening of the 15th. At around 11 pm, we roll up to this American food restaurant in Manhattan and order drinks. The waitress acknowledges that I will turn 21 in an hour and says she'll bring my drink anyways. After a short period, she comes back and appologizes saying that she can't serve me until midnight, but then it's on her. I told her it was absolutely fine and that I really felt ok about it mainly because she had a British accent. I asked her about Dorsett county (where some of my family come from) and she said it is absolutely breath-taking (I hear an adventure coming up!). But I digress, the clock strikes midnight, she brings me my drink, and I am officially welcomed into the world of adulthood! The crew strikes out looking for some bars to celebrate at, and we are joined by a pretty girl and her friend from Indiana. She had red lipstick on. Game over! The rest of the night, I was flirting with her (she was actually my age, so it's ok). We ended up going to two more bars and playing pool and then shuffleboard at them. I was having a blast. The girl went home after swapping numbers with me and promising to continue celebrating the next night. I began the long trek back up to the Bronx at about 5 am (it was still dark outside when I got on the subway). When I got off the subway, at 6 am, looking disheveled, I was surprised to see that the sun was out. I must have looked like someone who has been locked in a closet for years who finally gets released only to be blinded by the light of the outside world. Needless to say, when I got home, I crashed, hard. I woke up later, feeling well rested and ready to go. All of the gang bailed except Scott so he and I walked Highline Park (an old elevated railroad track, turned eyesore, turned beautiful public park). We then hit up a bar called The Blarney Stone (because who doesn't want to be Irish)?. When the bartender carded me, she said "Sweetie, today is the 15th. You can't be in here. I need to ask you to leave" I was like "NO! It's my birthday I belong...oh you're joking haha thanks." Then Scott and I headed over to Brooklyn to meet a few girls and go to all the "cool obscure bars." At the first, we played a game trying to guess our bartenders names. Ahh my computer is about to die. I'll publish the rest soon I'm sorry!
Friday, August 24, 2012
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Pain and Pleasure
Quite a bit has happened in the last 48 hours. With the help of my best friend, I cleaned my apartment and cooked a four course italian dinner for the people who work in the research lab that I'm interning at over the summer. I have limited cooking resources here in NYC, which mainly just affected the tiramisu. Instead of a fluffy, light consistency, it ended up liquidy. Tasty but more like tiramisoup. At some point in the night, I ended up trying to whip egg whites with a fork, even though I knew it wouldn't work, because back in Italy, I watched a girl to the same thing for over an hour to no avail. But, all in all, it turned out great and I felt like a real adult.
To explain the pain part of the title of this post, we have to jump back a couple days to the filming of the indie movie on saturday. At one point, I had to walk into the ocean with my socks and shoes on...leading to my shoes getting soaked. Which, was fine, considering I had ordered new shoes the day before, anyways, and was eagerly awaiting their arrival. However, the new shoes didn't arrive on Sunday (shocker) so I had to wear my skater shoes, which tend to cut into the back of heals, especially when I end up walking around downtown with them on. Monday, my shoes still haven't arrived, I wear my skater shoes to walk the two miles to and from work, making the wound worse. Tuesday, new shoes arrive!! But, as everyone knows, new shoes are not the way to avoid blisters... So, last night, I ended up walking from the East Village to Time Square, about two miles. By the time we arrived in Time Square, my heal looked, and felt like it had been shot. But, I fought through the pain to enjoy limping around the center of the universe.
The pleasure part of this story? Dinner, a show, and a moment. Dinner was 6 dollars per person thanks to Groupon. If you aren't familiar with Groupon, it is an online service that allows companies to get coupons out to large amounts of people. Stupidly good deal for both the customer and the company. Anyways, my first groupon purchase led us to Empanada Bar NYC. We each had a spicy chicken empanada, a curry empanada (both amazing) and for dessert, a half of a dolce empenada and cinnamon apple empanada. We were warned that the dessert empenadas were hot, but little did we know, that the server meant they would still be hot after we finished eating our main course empenada. Surprise! The dolce empenada was filled with essentially sweet molten lava. I think it was a chocolatey substance, but I couldn't really tell because I was in so much pain from the ball of fire that leaked out of the empanada and covered all of my fingers! But, it was sweet, I'll give them that.
We left the empanada bar, went to time square, where I had THE MOMENT. I was crossing the street, and a relatively attractive red head girl was crossing the street towards me. We made eye contact, I smile, she smiles, we look away. We're still walking toward each other when we both look back and smile again. Boom! Awesome moment. But, there's more. We cross paths, get to our respective sides of the street and look back at the same time and SMILE AGAIN! I chuckle, she giggles, and we both stop, grab our respective friends, and start telling them about the moment. This belongs in a Jennifer Aniston movie. As I'm talking to my friend I point and say "the ginger over there, is gonna look over here in two seconds." Side note, it's surprisingly easy to spot red heads across a crowd, even one as large as the one in Time Square. Anyways, two seconds later, she looks over smiles again and rapidly starts talking to her friend again. But, I decided, that was enough of that, and to leave the moment as just that, a moment.
Sadly, my moment abruptly turned into some street vendor trying to sell us tickets to a comedy club. "No thank...Wait, comedy club? How much?" I was suckered in. We bought two tickets and started walking away when it hit both of us. OH. MY. GOD. THESE ARE PROBABLY FAKE! We headed to where the comedy club was supposedly located and it wasn't there! Seriously? I blame the red head. I let my guard down for a minute and boom, scammed. "Wait, these tickets say the address is 300, this block is only the 200's. Let's go one block more" The address did exist, but it didn't look quite like a comedy club. We walked in and said "umm, I think we have tickets, but we want to see if these are real... this is a comedy club right?" "Oh, it is a comedy club, check with the guy out there to see if your tickets are real." So we head outside and find two guys on the stairs. One of whom had his pants unzipped and was tucking in his shirt. He also happened to be going commando...and looked a bit like the australian guy from summerland/Jason Stackhouse from True Blood. We asked the guy who wasn't exposing himself to the street, "Sir, are these real tickets." "Well, those are real tickets anyone could tell you that. They're real tickets, but not to this show. Sorry kids" My friend was so bummed, but it hits me...this is a comedy club...that is a joke...these tickets are real and this is a real comedy club. Oh thank God, it's real. I was so relieved. My friend was still trying to clarify when the guy said "Kid, it's a comedy club, lighten up. Yes it's real, come back in half an hour for the show."
We went and killed some time in Time Square (no pun intended). Came back and got seated with 8 other audience members. Of the 5 acts, not one failed to ask everyone where they were from. Therefore, I can tell you that on one half of the room we had a Philipean couple from Canada who had been married for 30 years and a couple from Brooklyn who were of mixed ethnic heritage. On my side of the room, we had a white couple from Calgary, Canada, a couple of guys from Denmark, and me and my friend. If you're picturing this scene and wondering why all the white people are on one half of the room and the non-whites are on the other side, ask our waitress, or every comedian that night, because they all pointed it out.
The poor Denmark boys got made fun of a bunch, as they were seated front and center, and clearly stood out. One guy was told he looked like he was from kansas, and his friend looked like someone from Children of the Corn. There were some funny jokes other than that, but I have no desire to share them, because I feel like they just won't be as funny the second time, especially since you weren't there.
That's about it. Pics are still on their way, including one of my battle wounded heal. Cheers to the daily adventure.
To explain the pain part of the title of this post, we have to jump back a couple days to the filming of the indie movie on saturday. At one point, I had to walk into the ocean with my socks and shoes on...leading to my shoes getting soaked. Which, was fine, considering I had ordered new shoes the day before, anyways, and was eagerly awaiting their arrival. However, the new shoes didn't arrive on Sunday (shocker) so I had to wear my skater shoes, which tend to cut into the back of heals, especially when I end up walking around downtown with them on. Monday, my shoes still haven't arrived, I wear my skater shoes to walk the two miles to and from work, making the wound worse. Tuesday, new shoes arrive!! But, as everyone knows, new shoes are not the way to avoid blisters... So, last night, I ended up walking from the East Village to Time Square, about two miles. By the time we arrived in Time Square, my heal looked, and felt like it had been shot. But, I fought through the pain to enjoy limping around the center of the universe.
The pleasure part of this story? Dinner, a show, and a moment. Dinner was 6 dollars per person thanks to Groupon. If you aren't familiar with Groupon, it is an online service that allows companies to get coupons out to large amounts of people. Stupidly good deal for both the customer and the company. Anyways, my first groupon purchase led us to Empanada Bar NYC. We each had a spicy chicken empanada, a curry empanada (both amazing) and for dessert, a half of a dolce empenada and cinnamon apple empanada. We were warned that the dessert empenadas were hot, but little did we know, that the server meant they would still be hot after we finished eating our main course empenada. Surprise! The dolce empenada was filled with essentially sweet molten lava. I think it was a chocolatey substance, but I couldn't really tell because I was in so much pain from the ball of fire that leaked out of the empanada and covered all of my fingers! But, it was sweet, I'll give them that.
We left the empanada bar, went to time square, where I had THE MOMENT. I was crossing the street, and a relatively attractive red head girl was crossing the street towards me. We made eye contact, I smile, she smiles, we look away. We're still walking toward each other when we both look back and smile again. Boom! Awesome moment. But, there's more. We cross paths, get to our respective sides of the street and look back at the same time and SMILE AGAIN! I chuckle, she giggles, and we both stop, grab our respective friends, and start telling them about the moment. This belongs in a Jennifer Aniston movie. As I'm talking to my friend I point and say "the ginger over there, is gonna look over here in two seconds." Side note, it's surprisingly easy to spot red heads across a crowd, even one as large as the one in Time Square. Anyways, two seconds later, she looks over smiles again and rapidly starts talking to her friend again. But, I decided, that was enough of that, and to leave the moment as just that, a moment.
Sadly, my moment abruptly turned into some street vendor trying to sell us tickets to a comedy club. "No thank...Wait, comedy club? How much?" I was suckered in. We bought two tickets and started walking away when it hit both of us. OH. MY. GOD. THESE ARE PROBABLY FAKE! We headed to where the comedy club was supposedly located and it wasn't there! Seriously? I blame the red head. I let my guard down for a minute and boom, scammed. "Wait, these tickets say the address is 300, this block is only the 200's. Let's go one block more" The address did exist, but it didn't look quite like a comedy club. We walked in and said "umm, I think we have tickets, but we want to see if these are real... this is a comedy club right?" "Oh, it is a comedy club, check with the guy out there to see if your tickets are real." So we head outside and find two guys on the stairs. One of whom had his pants unzipped and was tucking in his shirt. He also happened to be going commando...and looked a bit like the australian guy from summerland/Jason Stackhouse from True Blood. We asked the guy who wasn't exposing himself to the street, "Sir, are these real tickets." "Well, those are real tickets anyone could tell you that. They're real tickets, but not to this show. Sorry kids" My friend was so bummed, but it hits me...this is a comedy club...that is a joke...these tickets are real and this is a real comedy club. Oh thank God, it's real. I was so relieved. My friend was still trying to clarify when the guy said "Kid, it's a comedy club, lighten up. Yes it's real, come back in half an hour for the show."
We went and killed some time in Time Square (no pun intended). Came back and got seated with 8 other audience members. Of the 5 acts, not one failed to ask everyone where they were from. Therefore, I can tell you that on one half of the room we had a Philipean couple from Canada who had been married for 30 years and a couple from Brooklyn who were of mixed ethnic heritage. On my side of the room, we had a white couple from Calgary, Canada, a couple of guys from Denmark, and me and my friend. If you're picturing this scene and wondering why all the white people are on one half of the room and the non-whites are on the other side, ask our waitress, or every comedian that night, because they all pointed it out.
The poor Denmark boys got made fun of a bunch, as they were seated front and center, and clearly stood out. One guy was told he looked like he was from kansas, and his friend looked like someone from Children of the Corn. There were some funny jokes other than that, but I have no desire to share them, because I feel like they just won't be as funny the second time, especially since you weren't there.
That's about it. Pics are still on their way, including one of my battle wounded heal. Cheers to the daily adventure.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
It's all about the people
What's life? Not to get all deep and philosophical on this fun little blog of mine, but it's the ultimate question that each of us asks ourselves at least once. It seems to be a common question among young people. I hardly think anyone has the answer, but I think the key lies in your interactions with people, and with the entire human experience as a whole. I once read this short story that basically suggested that man kind advanced so much that they created a place to save the collective human experience in hyperspace and allow it to learn and answer all questions because it essentially was everyone. This thing, once the entire universe succumbed to the nature of entropy, said let their be light, thereby restarting the universe. An interesting take on the interaction between man, God, and science. Why do I bring this up? I have realized over the past week, that I have been blessed to meet some really awesome people, if only for brief interactions.
My new roommate: Roberto Corona. Spanish name. Born in Africa. Raised in the UK. Culturally confused? He is awesome! Unfortunately, he is barely here because he has cooler friends in Jersey but, when he is here, I probe his mind for information about the UK and try and copy his accent. He's such a good sport about it.
His friend Chelsea. She is from upstate New York, currently lives in Brooklyn, with all the cool kids, and handles Roberto's jokes well. We only spoke briefly, but she seemed pretty interesting.
Becca and KiKi: I was fortunate enough to meet these beautiful ladies at the New York Philharmonic concert in Central Park. Becca and I flirted a little bit, I found out that she was a teacher, played Scrabble better if she had a bigger board, and went to church religiously (pun intended). When I revealed that I was only 20, I think I took her by surprise a bit. Best reaction ever "No your not! Seriously? No. Wow. The universe is sending you older women" Becca, you have no idea! It was a fun random interaction. We talked about our blogs, because everyone has a blog these days. You can find hers here.
Patrick V. Hackeling: This guy is pretty amazing. He is an ex-lacrosse player at Swarthmore university. His true passion lies in filmmaking, however. He wrote a shockingly deep script and had the guts to try and produce it on his own, and star in it. I was fortunate enough to have a fun, smaller role in the film and get to meet him and his friends and be part of, what I hope, is an amazing first step towards a great career for him! Whenever it comes out, in whatever film contests or festivals, you all should check out "The Thirteenth Step."
Judie: I met Judie, a fiery red head with a personality kind of like Abby Schuto from NCIS on the set of Pat's movie. She has lived quite the life, being a make up artist and hair designer in Hollywood. Two of her siblings are also in the film industry, and the other is a doctor. Judie gave me some pretty realistic track marks as she told stories of interactions with crazy celebrities and wacky film shoots. What a life she's led.
Sam: The cameraman for the second half of the day of shooting with Pat. This guy recently got married at Cold Spring Harbor Labs. This place is absolutely beautiful! Tucked away in the hills of long island (seriously), overlooking the water, this medical facility researches neurological disorders while also hosting concert series and such. Sam works for them as a video technician. He was born in England, raised mostly in the states, did college in England and came back (leading to a slight, but noticeable accent). We talked about a zombie film he is shooting and how he really likes filmography, but can't find enough time/people to do it.
But, beyond meeting new people and experiencing touches of others lives (I think I'll post again about some of the people I've met. Some who have had longer interactions with me, or who were mentioned briefly in other posts but didn't get a paragraph like everyone here) I have created some new memories with an old friend.
I'm lucky enough to have my buddy KC in town to visit me. Today, we went to brooklyn to have dinner and wound up in the getto/hipsterville/Jewtopia. It was great food and amazing view of the city. We walked back to Manhattan, over the Williamsburg Bridge, as a storm started rolling in. IT was beautiful (pics will get their own post). On the metro ride back up to the bronx, we got on the crazy train. Some woman who looked a bit like Diana Ross started clapping and singing "ain't none yo' business" and would get mad if anyone looked at her. When she got off she said "I hope you have a bad evening and a worse night." Elsewhere on the subway, a homeless man fell asleep and fell over onto a very large black woman who just started laughing away. It was a fun moment. A different mother got fed up with her crying daughter after what I imagine was a very long day. Some guy recognized me and KC from the subway ride at the beginning of the day! He remembered where we got on and said that we were sitting a few seats away from where we sat in the morning. How funny!
It was a pretty awesome experience, and I hope there will be more to come. I'm dreaming of moving back here after I graduate. I hope it works out. Cheers to the daily adventure, and the people who make adventures worthwhile.
My new roommate: Roberto Corona. Spanish name. Born in Africa. Raised in the UK. Culturally confused? He is awesome! Unfortunately, he is barely here because he has cooler friends in Jersey but, when he is here, I probe his mind for information about the UK and try and copy his accent. He's such a good sport about it.
His friend Chelsea. She is from upstate New York, currently lives in Brooklyn, with all the cool kids, and handles Roberto's jokes well. We only spoke briefly, but she seemed pretty interesting.
Becca and KiKi: I was fortunate enough to meet these beautiful ladies at the New York Philharmonic concert in Central Park. Becca and I flirted a little bit, I found out that she was a teacher, played Scrabble better if she had a bigger board, and went to church religiously (pun intended). When I revealed that I was only 20, I think I took her by surprise a bit. Best reaction ever "No your not! Seriously? No. Wow. The universe is sending you older women" Becca, you have no idea! It was a fun random interaction. We talked about our blogs, because everyone has a blog these days. You can find hers here.
Patrick V. Hackeling: This guy is pretty amazing. He is an ex-lacrosse player at Swarthmore university. His true passion lies in filmmaking, however. He wrote a shockingly deep script and had the guts to try and produce it on his own, and star in it. I was fortunate enough to have a fun, smaller role in the film and get to meet him and his friends and be part of, what I hope, is an amazing first step towards a great career for him! Whenever it comes out, in whatever film contests or festivals, you all should check out "The Thirteenth Step."
Judie: I met Judie, a fiery red head with a personality kind of like Abby Schuto from NCIS on the set of Pat's movie. She has lived quite the life, being a make up artist and hair designer in Hollywood. Two of her siblings are also in the film industry, and the other is a doctor. Judie gave me some pretty realistic track marks as she told stories of interactions with crazy celebrities and wacky film shoots. What a life she's led.
Sam: The cameraman for the second half of the day of shooting with Pat. This guy recently got married at Cold Spring Harbor Labs. This place is absolutely beautiful! Tucked away in the hills of long island (seriously), overlooking the water, this medical facility researches neurological disorders while also hosting concert series and such. Sam works for them as a video technician. He was born in England, raised mostly in the states, did college in England and came back (leading to a slight, but noticeable accent). We talked about a zombie film he is shooting and how he really likes filmography, but can't find enough time/people to do it.
But, beyond meeting new people and experiencing touches of others lives (I think I'll post again about some of the people I've met. Some who have had longer interactions with me, or who were mentioned briefly in other posts but didn't get a paragraph like everyone here) I have created some new memories with an old friend.
I'm lucky enough to have my buddy KC in town to visit me. Today, we went to brooklyn to have dinner and wound up in the getto/hipsterville/Jewtopia. It was great food and amazing view of the city. We walked back to Manhattan, over the Williamsburg Bridge, as a storm started rolling in. IT was beautiful (pics will get their own post). On the metro ride back up to the bronx, we got on the crazy train. Some woman who looked a bit like Diana Ross started clapping and singing "ain't none yo' business" and would get mad if anyone looked at her. When she got off she said "I hope you have a bad evening and a worse night." Elsewhere on the subway, a homeless man fell asleep and fell over onto a very large black woman who just started laughing away. It was a fun moment. A different mother got fed up with her crying daughter after what I imagine was a very long day. Some guy recognized me and KC from the subway ride at the beginning of the day! He remembered where we got on and said that we were sitting a few seats away from where we sat in the morning. How funny!
It was a pretty awesome experience, and I hope there will be more to come. I'm dreaming of moving back here after I graduate. I hope it works out. Cheers to the daily adventure, and the people who make adventures worthwhile.
Monday, July 9, 2012
A new day another adventure
Sorry I haven't posted in quite a while. I haven't had that many adventures but I'll try to give a little recap of what I've been up to.
Last weekend, I was in a Starbucks in downtown Manhattan, drinking an over priced cold drink and people watching. I realized that I could now officially be considered a New Yorker. To complete my transition to New Yorker, I was wearing pants regardless of the fact that its been in the 90s since the first day of summer two weeks ago. I meandered for a while that day, down to Battery Park and around the new WTC towers. After that, I had an incredibly overpriced brunch at a restaurant called 5 points. Located at the center of the area that Gangs of New York was based on, I could not help but chuckling to myself thinking about the contrast of this 5 points and the 5 points in Colorado (it's Denver's version of the hood). On my way home, I had to catch the train with a bunch of drunk people leaving the baseball game. Entertaining, a little annoying, but generally entertaining.
On the fourth of July, I went to a friends apartment, barbequed, played dominos then went onto the roof of the building to watch the fireworks. It was absolutely amazing, seeing fireworks go off all over the city. There was so much smoke, the moon looked blood red. It also kind of looked like Manhattan was on fire. But it was wild being higher up than the fireworks and being able to see 20 or 30 fireworks exploding at any given moment. Granted, the 4th of July, the buses don't run, so I was left to walk home, through the Bronx, at 1 AM. This goes against everything I'd ever been told! "The Bronx is fine as long as you aren't walking alone though the Bronx at night..." I called my mom and had her keep me company till I was safe home. Fortunately, nothing bad happened. Also, people find it necessary to set of fireworks around the 4th of July. So from the first until even today, I think there are gunshots or bombs going off (which isn't a radical idea, after all, I am in the Bronx) then I realize it's just fireworks.
This past weekend, I ran to work in running shorts again. Let's clarify...most of my underwear covers more skin than these shorts... I'm always half afraid I'm going to get shanked for dressing like that, but then I realize that people won't want to rob the guy that clearly has no room to hide a wallet or phone.
I have a second job writing for a music website called AltRockLive. I write reviews of CDs and soon I'll be writing reviews of concerts and interviewing bands. Potentially, I'll be interviewing Owl City tomorrow, we'll see. In fact, I'm listening to an album I'm reviewing as I write this. I was enjoying it, then all of a sudden, it got really dissonant and literally started giving me a headache. I was thinking that this was absolutely terrible. About twenty minutes later, I had to pause it to just let my ears rest. Some music kept playing. I realized, I had it opened and playing in two separate windows at two different places. Ugh, that was a miserable experience.
That's about it. I'll try and have a more exciting life... Cheers to the daily adventure, which is rapidly turning into the weekly/monthly adventure.
Last weekend, I was in a Starbucks in downtown Manhattan, drinking an over priced cold drink and people watching. I realized that I could now officially be considered a New Yorker. To complete my transition to New Yorker, I was wearing pants regardless of the fact that its been in the 90s since the first day of summer two weeks ago. I meandered for a while that day, down to Battery Park and around the new WTC towers. After that, I had an incredibly overpriced brunch at a restaurant called 5 points. Located at the center of the area that Gangs of New York was based on, I could not help but chuckling to myself thinking about the contrast of this 5 points and the 5 points in Colorado (it's Denver's version of the hood). On my way home, I had to catch the train with a bunch of drunk people leaving the baseball game. Entertaining, a little annoying, but generally entertaining.
On the fourth of July, I went to a friends apartment, barbequed, played dominos then went onto the roof of the building to watch the fireworks. It was absolutely amazing, seeing fireworks go off all over the city. There was so much smoke, the moon looked blood red. It also kind of looked like Manhattan was on fire. But it was wild being higher up than the fireworks and being able to see 20 or 30 fireworks exploding at any given moment. Granted, the 4th of July, the buses don't run, so I was left to walk home, through the Bronx, at 1 AM. This goes against everything I'd ever been told! "The Bronx is fine as long as you aren't walking alone though the Bronx at night..." I called my mom and had her keep me company till I was safe home. Fortunately, nothing bad happened. Also, people find it necessary to set of fireworks around the 4th of July. So from the first until even today, I think there are gunshots or bombs going off (which isn't a radical idea, after all, I am in the Bronx) then I realize it's just fireworks.
This past weekend, I ran to work in running shorts again. Let's clarify...most of my underwear covers more skin than these shorts... I'm always half afraid I'm going to get shanked for dressing like that, but then I realize that people won't want to rob the guy that clearly has no room to hide a wallet or phone.
I have a second job writing for a music website called AltRockLive. I write reviews of CDs and soon I'll be writing reviews of concerts and interviewing bands. Potentially, I'll be interviewing Owl City tomorrow, we'll see. In fact, I'm listening to an album I'm reviewing as I write this. I was enjoying it, then all of a sudden, it got really dissonant and literally started giving me a headache. I was thinking that this was absolutely terrible. About twenty minutes later, I had to pause it to just let my ears rest. Some music kept playing. I realized, I had it opened and playing in two separate windows at two different places. Ugh, that was a miserable experience.
That's about it. I'll try and have a more exciting life... Cheers to the daily adventure, which is rapidly turning into the weekly/monthly adventure.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
It's Late
It's late, I'm tired, but I'm committed to getting YOU the details of my adventures. Tonight, I worked a job that I found on craigslist. Fortunately, this tale has a happy ending that doesn't involve the craigslist killer or any scams. I was hired by an indie film company as a "host" for a movie premier downtown tonight. My mom and grandmas were worried sick that I was going to die in at least one of enumerable horrifying ways, but somehow, they came to accept the fact that I was going to earn my 30 dollars working from 10:30 pm to 1:30 AM...
My job as host was to welcome movie goers to the film and to say goodbye to them as they left, and to look good. Simple enough. Unfortunately, there were only about 20 guests and roughly half of them showed up only for the short film that was shown before the feature film that I was hosting. Oh well, I got paid regardless. Now, it was never really clarified whether I was allowed to watch the movie. The actors/only people who showed up to watch it all paid for tickets, something I wasn't about to do. I was quite content to hang out with the staff of the theater (2 hipster guys in their late twenties, one of whom was playing the ukulele). But, I bounced back and forth between watching the movie, and talking to hipster 1 and 2. (Hipster 1, as it turns out, is in love with a psychopath, literally, a psychopath. He's obsessed. He even writes ukulele songs for her. If that's not commitment, I don't know what is?) Eventually hipster 1 decided he deserved a beer and a joint while working, so I headed back into the movie, permanently.
By this point, we are waaay past my bedtime. The film has shoddy videography and some pretty bad acting, but the theme was solid. It's about a gangster kid who wanted out of the drug business who gets killed and then his body gets taken by the US army and turned into the bionic man. There's more, but I fell asleep so I have no idea what happens. But, lets go back to the point where this kid gets shot. It's a drug deal gone bad and the kid gets shot, point blank, IN THE EYE...but keeps going. I disagree, writers...one does not simply walk after getting shot in the eye. You die at that point. But, just in case there is some freak way he didn't die, he gets shot another 4 times AND KEEPS GOING. It isn't until the bad guys walk past him one by one each firing another 2 or 3 shots into him that he dies. Later, when his body is recruited, the doctors say "his brain is completely intact, as are his vital organs. Apart from a few crushed bones his body is in good shape." Excuse me? What bullets crush bones and spare organs? And in what universe does getting shot in the eye not lead to some form of brain damage? Also, they talked about downloading the kid's life experiences from his brain onto a "magnetic disc" aka a CD (which, by the way, is not magnetic. CD's rely upon light, whereas cassettes used magnetism...whatever). But, the thing that got me the most, was the scientists kept saying "neuronic" when they meant "neuronal" I know...it's a silly thing to be hung up on, but if spell check tells you you're wrong, you might want to check into it. This was especially bothersome because the director said that they tried to be as scientifically accurate as possible. Anyways, the movie ends, I wake up just in time to say goodbye to everyone and all in all had a good experience.
So, I'm walking to the subway station and cross a pizza joint, selling slices of "Little Italy Pizza" for 2.75. It reminded me of Italy and how hungry I was at that point so I stopped in grabbed a slice and headed to the train. The pizza wasn't up to Italian standards but it was pretty good. But, around the fifth bite in, a rogue string of melted cheese flips down from the pizza and latches onto my chin, scalding me. I COULDN'T GET IT OFF. I now have a pretty sweet burn and a ridiculous story for how it got there.
A few random fun stories from things you see on the NYC subway late on a Saturday night:
Hookers.
Homeless people.
Drunk couples making out.
Drunk couples fighting.
Drunk single people hitting on semi-conscious or completely oblivious people.
Tweens singing "Call Me Maybe" and pleading strangers to sing along with them. (I obliged. I'm a sucker for singing with strangers.)
Some woman got angry at this guy who kept pacing up and down the subway car. He was clearly not good at interactions with people. The Call Me Maybe girls freaked him out. The woman yells at him, in front of everyone, "Just sit down or go to sleep or something. Stop pacing this car. Seriously. Stop being weird." The poor guy just kind of awkwardly smiled and literally ran away to the other side of the car, where he kept his pacing minimal and eventually sat down for a short period of time.
I love NYC. Cheers to the daily adventure and to a good night's rest.
My job as host was to welcome movie goers to the film and to say goodbye to them as they left, and to look good. Simple enough. Unfortunately, there were only about 20 guests and roughly half of them showed up only for the short film that was shown before the feature film that I was hosting. Oh well, I got paid regardless. Now, it was never really clarified whether I was allowed to watch the movie. The actors/only people who showed up to watch it all paid for tickets, something I wasn't about to do. I was quite content to hang out with the staff of the theater (2 hipster guys in their late twenties, one of whom was playing the ukulele). But, I bounced back and forth between watching the movie, and talking to hipster 1 and 2. (Hipster 1, as it turns out, is in love with a psychopath, literally, a psychopath. He's obsessed. He even writes ukulele songs for her. If that's not commitment, I don't know what is?) Eventually hipster 1 decided he deserved a beer and a joint while working, so I headed back into the movie, permanently.
By this point, we are waaay past my bedtime. The film has shoddy videography and some pretty bad acting, but the theme was solid. It's about a gangster kid who wanted out of the drug business who gets killed and then his body gets taken by the US army and turned into the bionic man. There's more, but I fell asleep so I have no idea what happens. But, lets go back to the point where this kid gets shot. It's a drug deal gone bad and the kid gets shot, point blank, IN THE EYE...but keeps going. I disagree, writers...one does not simply walk after getting shot in the eye. You die at that point. But, just in case there is some freak way he didn't die, he gets shot another 4 times AND KEEPS GOING. It isn't until the bad guys walk past him one by one each firing another 2 or 3 shots into him that he dies. Later, when his body is recruited, the doctors say "his brain is completely intact, as are his vital organs. Apart from a few crushed bones his body is in good shape." Excuse me? What bullets crush bones and spare organs? And in what universe does getting shot in the eye not lead to some form of brain damage? Also, they talked about downloading the kid's life experiences from his brain onto a "magnetic disc" aka a CD (which, by the way, is not magnetic. CD's rely upon light, whereas cassettes used magnetism...whatever). But, the thing that got me the most, was the scientists kept saying "neuronic" when they meant "neuronal" I know...it's a silly thing to be hung up on, but if spell check tells you you're wrong, you might want to check into it. This was especially bothersome because the director said that they tried to be as scientifically accurate as possible. Anyways, the movie ends, I wake up just in time to say goodbye to everyone and all in all had a good experience.
So, I'm walking to the subway station and cross a pizza joint, selling slices of "Little Italy Pizza" for 2.75. It reminded me of Italy and how hungry I was at that point so I stopped in grabbed a slice and headed to the train. The pizza wasn't up to Italian standards but it was pretty good. But, around the fifth bite in, a rogue string of melted cheese flips down from the pizza and latches onto my chin, scalding me. I COULDN'T GET IT OFF. I now have a pretty sweet burn and a ridiculous story for how it got there.
A few random fun stories from things you see on the NYC subway late on a Saturday night:
Hookers.
Homeless people.
Drunk couples making out.
Drunk couples fighting.
Drunk single people hitting on semi-conscious or completely oblivious people.
Tweens singing "Call Me Maybe" and pleading strangers to sing along with them. (I obliged. I'm a sucker for singing with strangers.)
Some woman got angry at this guy who kept pacing up and down the subway car. He was clearly not good at interactions with people. The Call Me Maybe girls freaked him out. The woman yells at him, in front of everyone, "Just sit down or go to sleep or something. Stop pacing this car. Seriously. Stop being weird." The poor guy just kind of awkwardly smiled and literally ran away to the other side of the car, where he kept his pacing minimal and eventually sat down for a short period of time.
I love NYC. Cheers to the daily adventure and to a good night's rest.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Heart Warming in the Heat Wave
It is officially summer, and her in New York City boy don't we know it. It's been high nineties the past few days and it apparently feels like it's in the hundreds (thank you weather channel for rubbing it in/ validating my feelings). Meanwhile, in the heat of the city in the summer, my heart was warmed by something other than the sun. You read about things like these (I suppose like you are right now), you hear about them, but rarely ever do you get to see them.
I was chillaxing in line at the local Rite Aid pharmacy watching this little girl run around and fall and be a major nuisance to her mother/cute as a button. The mother, a young girl about my age plus/minus 3 years, got called up to pick up her prescription a little before I did. But, there was a hiccup at the checkout stand. The pills cost 3 dollars but the woman couldn't pay for them. As she was trying to ask if she could pay with a credit card, I realized that something was off with this interaction. She was deaf. Some other woman who was picking up her prescriptions leaned over and told the checkout clerk to put the deaf mom's pills on her bill. It was great to just see such genuine kindness. The mom thanked the woman in sign language, took the medication and her daughter and headed out.
It was inspiring. It makes you want to do something for other people. I really wanted to thank that woman for being so kind, but I think instead it is kind of just contagious. Maybe I'll spread it. Maybe random acts of kindness like that will just spread naturally, kind of like Pay it Forward, but more natural. Anyways, thought I'd share the story.
Cheers to the daily adventure.
I was chillaxing in line at the local Rite Aid pharmacy watching this little girl run around and fall and be a major nuisance to her mother/cute as a button. The mother, a young girl about my age plus/minus 3 years, got called up to pick up her prescription a little before I did. But, there was a hiccup at the checkout stand. The pills cost 3 dollars but the woman couldn't pay for them. As she was trying to ask if she could pay with a credit card, I realized that something was off with this interaction. She was deaf. Some other woman who was picking up her prescriptions leaned over and told the checkout clerk to put the deaf mom's pills on her bill. It was great to just see such genuine kindness. The mom thanked the woman in sign language, took the medication and her daughter and headed out.
It was inspiring. It makes you want to do something for other people. I really wanted to thank that woman for being so kind, but I think instead it is kind of just contagious. Maybe I'll spread it. Maybe random acts of kindness like that will just spread naturally, kind of like Pay it Forward, but more natural. Anyways, thought I'd share the story.
Cheers to the daily adventure.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Quickey
Thought you all might enjoy this story. You know how you can get water from soda fountains? I did that this morning. I was so proud. I had a new water bottls, I was being so healthy. Turns out, the water was carbonated! What is that? So now my air tight water bottle keeps burping since the gas pressure building inside is too much for the little membrane thing on top to handle. Cheers to the daily adventure. Here are some pics of central park and NYC streets.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Coney island, baby
Ok, I'm trying posting from my phone since it served as my camera for today's adventures so bare with me. So today started with a trip to a pop-up store (what Is that) for suits themed after the amazing show suits. Free coffee and chips. Awesome tables with tablets in them that recognized cards. And, oh yeah, 1500 dollar suits. It was amazing. Such a great atmosphere.
Later, we headed to coney island. I grabbed a hot dog and bacon cheese fries from the famous Nathan's hot dog place that will be hosting the eating contest in about 16 days.
Then we rode some awesome rides. The girl I went with is a bit of an adrenaline junky so the three rides we went on were the most intense. See, I used to hope for a life threatening situation so I could prove myself. I wanted my work to get robbed. I wanted to have to fight for my life. I settled for just riding roller coasters. Today, on the other hand, I have a healthy attachment to my life, so these intense rides were a bit much. Dangling 100 feet in the air, all I could think about was how much it would suck if the machine broke and we plummeted to the ground below. It was a really beautiful site though. The second ride was one of those lay down super man style. But, the security thing did not click in very well. I could lean back and it would lean with me for about another five inches. Im sure it was safe but at the time I was sure I was gonna die. The 10 year old kid who was riding alone with us was laughing at me. add injury to insult, since I wear my ID badge from the hospital every where, and it clips in, it unclipped on the ride and fell fifty feet never to be seen again. Oops. The last intense ride, was the big ball that gets slingshot into the air, about 140 feet. The thirty minutes spent in line were agony. as we watched couple after couple get hurled into the air, all I could think about were the wires snapping. I was convinced I was going to die. I met a man in the line behind us, named Alex, who was pissed to go on this ride. His two fears are heights and falling. But he was more concerned about his friend, who looked like Donny Osmond, making out with his girlfriend, who looked like slightly less trashy version of Ke$ha. Apparently Donny was going to go with Kesha but promised to make out with her afterwards, causing Alex to over come his fears and go on the ride. Anyways, at the top, when you're in free fall, you can see for miles. its beautiful. The city, the sun, the ocean, just beautiful. We were higher than a kite. Literally, there was a kite flying below us. and a seagull was flying mere foot or so above us. It was an amazing 90 seconds. Alex and Kesha went after us. He looked like he was about to cry but as soon as it took off you could tell he was having fun. But, when it ended, he went back to being pissed at Donny and Kesha. We ended our coney island trip on the Ferris wheel so I could get pictures for the blog. So here they are.
We ended our day with the best chicken salad sandwiches ever...from Dunkin donuts. Seriously. We ate them on the beach at sunset. Yeah, that's my life in new York
Cheers to the daily adventure. And happy fathers day to all you dads out there.
Later, we headed to coney island. I grabbed a hot dog and bacon cheese fries from the famous Nathan's hot dog place that will be hosting the eating contest in about 16 days.
Then we rode some awesome rides. The girl I went with is a bit of an adrenaline junky so the three rides we went on were the most intense. See, I used to hope for a life threatening situation so I could prove myself. I wanted my work to get robbed. I wanted to have to fight for my life. I settled for just riding roller coasters. Today, on the other hand, I have a healthy attachment to my life, so these intense rides were a bit much. Dangling 100 feet in the air, all I could think about was how much it would suck if the machine broke and we plummeted to the ground below. It was a really beautiful site though. The second ride was one of those lay down super man style. But, the security thing did not click in very well. I could lean back and it would lean with me for about another five inches. Im sure it was safe but at the time I was sure I was gonna die. The 10 year old kid who was riding alone with us was laughing at me. add injury to insult, since I wear my ID badge from the hospital every where, and it clips in, it unclipped on the ride and fell fifty feet never to be seen again. Oops. The last intense ride, was the big ball that gets slingshot into the air, about 140 feet. The thirty minutes spent in line were agony. as we watched couple after couple get hurled into the air, all I could think about were the wires snapping. I was convinced I was going to die. I met a man in the line behind us, named Alex, who was pissed to go on this ride. His two fears are heights and falling. But he was more concerned about his friend, who looked like Donny Osmond, making out with his girlfriend, who looked like slightly less trashy version of Ke$ha. Apparently Donny was going to go with Kesha but promised to make out with her afterwards, causing Alex to over come his fears and go on the ride. Anyways, at the top, when you're in free fall, you can see for miles. its beautiful. The city, the sun, the ocean, just beautiful. We were higher than a kite. Literally, there was a kite flying below us. and a seagull was flying mere foot or so above us. It was an amazing 90 seconds. Alex and Kesha went after us. He looked like he was about to cry but as soon as it took off you could tell he was having fun. But, when it ended, he went back to being pissed at Donny and Kesha. We ended our coney island trip on the Ferris wheel so I could get pictures for the blog. So here they are.Cheers to the daily adventure. And happy fathers day to all you dads out there.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
NYC and Me
Sorry to those of you who were hoping for more frequent updates, but new York is turning out to be pretty relaxing. I made it down to central park which was amazing and felt the subway pass below me as the ground shook. Ive continued hunting for a second job. Ive gotten caught in New York traffic so an hour trip to Newark airport turned into two and a half hours (my friends made their flight with 10 minutes to spare.)
Nothing, this weekend was really blog worthy. But the last 12 hours have proven a bit more thrilling. One of my friends who's from Miami and is spending the summer in the upper west side of New York came by to check out my apartment and to pick up a bag of his shoes I brought up for him. As he gets off the subway he shoots me a text "I'm never coming back here. Im surprised they did not check my passport ay the border." The guy who helped me hang out on rooftop poolside was now experiencing how the other half lived and it was culture shock. I offered to drive him to the train station when he was leaving so he would not have to brave the streets of the Bronx at night.
Back at home, I could not find a place to park on the right side of the street (the left side gets ticketed on Tuesdays and Fridays because it gets street cleaned.) I resigned myself to driving to work. I swear, overnight the number of cars in the Bronx doubled. There was not a parking place the whole way to work. At some point, I got caught between a set of double parked cars and a diagonally parked garbage truck. AND, the guy behind me kept honking AT ME! Are you serious? There is maybe 3 feet between the truck and the double parked car, I cant fit through that and neither can you, minivan driver. Whatever, I'm over it.
Anyways, I finally found a parking spot near a fire hydrant (but not too near this time). But, I didn't quite know how to get from where I parked to where I worked. I knew the general direction, but not the specific route. I cut through this side ally next to a police station, but ended up in a fenced-in parking lot. As I meaner around, out the other exit, I realize that I am in the parking lot for the police station. One of the gars flips on the sirens to let me know I'm her way so I move over to let her pass and keep walking out. She flips on her siren again when I'm out, and I think, Jeeze lady I'm already out of your way leave me alone. I keep walking and she shouts out her window "Yo, are you lost." Thank God! Someone helpful! "Yes, I am. I'm trying to get to the Kennedy Center from here." "Oh I just had to make sure since you were technically trespassing." At this point, we are joined by a man cop who responds to my "I'm sorry I didn't realize" with "the signs didn't throw you off?" No, buddy, they didn't because, upon further inspection when I was walking back to my car, they don't say no trespassing merely "police station, beware of cars." "No sorry, I came in on the other side" "They're there too." "Oh, sorry. Well, how do I get where I'm going?" "Take your next right"
The next right turned out to be the fire department. Seriously? Out of the frying pan into the fire...department. But, they were much cooler (no pun intended) and let me through without issue. Moreover, after all this, I come home to an email from the New York Department of Finance about that first parking ticket I got that read "The respondent has been charged with violating Traffic Rule 4-08(e)(2) prohibiting stopping, standing or parking a vehicle within fifteen feet of a fire hydrant. Respondent's claim that he is from out of state and was unfamiliar with the parking regulations in New York City is not a meritorious defense to the violation. Area within fifteen feet of a hydrant is a general no stopping zone. Signs or markigns are not required. Claim that the vehicle was parked temporarily as he was moving items into his new apartment fails to provide a meritorious defense to the cited regulation. Summons upheld. No reduction." So, apparently, they can have laws specific to their state, don't have to let you know about them in any way, and can still hold you accountable.
But, it's okay. I'm in NYC, center of the Universe, heart of culture, and thought, and finance, and loads of other things and I'm having the time of my life. Cheers to the daily adventure. Pics to come, I swear!
Nothing, this weekend was really blog worthy. But the last 12 hours have proven a bit more thrilling. One of my friends who's from Miami and is spending the summer in the upper west side of New York came by to check out my apartment and to pick up a bag of his shoes I brought up for him. As he gets off the subway he shoots me a text "I'm never coming back here. Im surprised they did not check my passport ay the border." The guy who helped me hang out on rooftop poolside was now experiencing how the other half lived and it was culture shock. I offered to drive him to the train station when he was leaving so he would not have to brave the streets of the Bronx at night.
Back at home, I could not find a place to park on the right side of the street (the left side gets ticketed on Tuesdays and Fridays because it gets street cleaned.) I resigned myself to driving to work. I swear, overnight the number of cars in the Bronx doubled. There was not a parking place the whole way to work. At some point, I got caught between a set of double parked cars and a diagonally parked garbage truck. AND, the guy behind me kept honking AT ME! Are you serious? There is maybe 3 feet between the truck and the double parked car, I cant fit through that and neither can you, minivan driver. Whatever, I'm over it.
Anyways, I finally found a parking spot near a fire hydrant (but not too near this time). But, I didn't quite know how to get from where I parked to where I worked. I knew the general direction, but not the specific route. I cut through this side ally next to a police station, but ended up in a fenced-in parking lot. As I meaner around, out the other exit, I realize that I am in the parking lot for the police station. One of the gars flips on the sirens to let me know I'm her way so I move over to let her pass and keep walking out. She flips on her siren again when I'm out, and I think, Jeeze lady I'm already out of your way leave me alone. I keep walking and she shouts out her window "Yo, are you lost." Thank God! Someone helpful! "Yes, I am. I'm trying to get to the Kennedy Center from here." "Oh I just had to make sure since you were technically trespassing." At this point, we are joined by a man cop who responds to my "I'm sorry I didn't realize" with "the signs didn't throw you off?" No, buddy, they didn't because, upon further inspection when I was walking back to my car, they don't say no trespassing merely "police station, beware of cars." "No sorry, I came in on the other side" "They're there too." "Oh, sorry. Well, how do I get where I'm going?" "Take your next right"
The next right turned out to be the fire department. Seriously? Out of the frying pan into the fire...department. But, they were much cooler (no pun intended) and let me through without issue. Moreover, after all this, I come home to an email from the New York Department of Finance about that first parking ticket I got that read "The respondent has been charged with violating Traffic Rule 4-08(e)(2) prohibiting stopping, standing or parking a vehicle within fifteen feet of a fire hydrant. Respondent's claim that he is from out of state and was unfamiliar with the parking regulations in New York City is not a meritorious defense to the violation. Area within fifteen feet of a hydrant is a general no stopping zone. Signs or markigns are not required. Claim that the vehicle was parked temporarily as he was moving items into his new apartment fails to provide a meritorious defense to the cited regulation. Summons upheld. No reduction." So, apparently, they can have laws specific to their state, don't have to let you know about them in any way, and can still hold you accountable.
But, it's okay. I'm in NYC, center of the Universe, heart of culture, and thought, and finance, and loads of other things and I'm having the time of my life. Cheers to the daily adventure. Pics to come, I swear!
Monday, June 4, 2012
The Great New York Adventure
I made it. I am finally in the Big City! Well, actually I'm in the Bronx, but close enough right? I'm sitting in my living room on a couch that came with the apartment I'm renting. I live in a cozy two bedroom apartment, and cozy in the good way not the New-York-I-don't-have-enough-room-way. Granted, my view from my windows is of our trash filled back yard but hey you win some you lose some. Anyways, even though I've only been in NYC for a week now, I have already learned a bunch of little lessons and one overarching theme.
First: driving in New York is miserable. Now, Men's Health Magazine may rate New York drivers as the safest, but coming into the city, I was much more fearful for my life than in Italy with the magic cars. But, driving into the city, crossing the George Washington Bridge (possibly on the wrong level) I could see the New York skyline, the classic image of man and nature standing and swirling together in beautiful harmony contrasted against the chaos of the road and I was in love. See, I've had a poster of the NYC skyline hanging on my wall the past 2 years and I've wanted to end up here for quite some time and, though the skyline looks a bit different (the poster was pre-2001) it still did the trick.
But beauty of it aside, here in the Bronx, the majesty of the city gives way to tired buildings and dangerous streets in more than one way. Here in the Bronx, the streets aren't painted! Seriously. The lanes are up for you to decide. It's like the Seinfeld episode when one of the lead guys sponsors a piece of highway and paints over over the lines to make it more luxurious. Here, though, there is no luxury just confusion and chaos, but hey life is an adventure, why shouldn't driving be? I've never been one for road rage, but the traffic here has caused me to shout some phrases that would make Steve Stiffler blush.
Second: moving in sucks
Somehow, we survive the drive through Manhattan (I was blessed enough to have my father riding with me). After we finish getting all of my stuff into the apartment, sweating, we bumbled down to my car to go get food to find a nice surprise on my windshield. My first New York parking ticket! I was too close to a fire hydrant (they don't clearly mark them here). The fine assessed by the state of New York? One-hundred-fifteen dollars. Whether I'll have to pay all of it is still up in the air.
Overarching theme (since I'm kind of sick of writing this): Life is full of unexpectedness. You have to just roll with the punches. For example, on Saturday, I was planning on going to visit Strands (a used book store with over 8 miles of books) and Central Park. What ended up happening? I met a friend and his friend in an exclusive club called the SoHo House and ended up relaxing next to a roof-top pool (one of only 3 in NYC) with some 30-year old Australian women and Argentinian models. Another example of unexpectedness? I came home from work today and was followed by a man from a different apartment into mine. He asked if he could come in then sort of just came in without waiting for a response. He comes in and starts moving things out of my sink and turns it on, leaves it running, and leaves with a promise to come back. Kay? He comes back with another guy and a tool. They duck under my sink and start unscrewing pipes and then jamming the tool into the pipes and snaking the drains. But after about 30 or so minutes of this, it wasn't enough so they both leave with a promise of coming back and come back with a bigger machine and another guy. They snake the pipes again with the bigger machine and stand around talking and eating for the next two hours. They leave, tell me to not use my sink, and tell me they'll come back the next morning.
Cheers to the daily adventure (pics to come, I haven't forgotten about the tower of Pisa).
First: driving in New York is miserable. Now, Men's Health Magazine may rate New York drivers as the safest, but coming into the city, I was much more fearful for my life than in Italy with the magic cars. But, driving into the city, crossing the George Washington Bridge (possibly on the wrong level) I could see the New York skyline, the classic image of man and nature standing and swirling together in beautiful harmony contrasted against the chaos of the road and I was in love. See, I've had a poster of the NYC skyline hanging on my wall the past 2 years and I've wanted to end up here for quite some time and, though the skyline looks a bit different (the poster was pre-2001) it still did the trick.
But beauty of it aside, here in the Bronx, the majesty of the city gives way to tired buildings and dangerous streets in more than one way. Here in the Bronx, the streets aren't painted! Seriously. The lanes are up for you to decide. It's like the Seinfeld episode when one of the lead guys sponsors a piece of highway and paints over over the lines to make it more luxurious. Here, though, there is no luxury just confusion and chaos, but hey life is an adventure, why shouldn't driving be? I've never been one for road rage, but the traffic here has caused me to shout some phrases that would make Steve Stiffler blush.
Second: moving in sucks
Somehow, we survive the drive through Manhattan (I was blessed enough to have my father riding with me). After we finish getting all of my stuff into the apartment, sweating, we bumbled down to my car to go get food to find a nice surprise on my windshield. My first New York parking ticket! I was too close to a fire hydrant (they don't clearly mark them here). The fine assessed by the state of New York? One-hundred-fifteen dollars. Whether I'll have to pay all of it is still up in the air.
Overarching theme (since I'm kind of sick of writing this): Life is full of unexpectedness. You have to just roll with the punches. For example, on Saturday, I was planning on going to visit Strands (a used book store with over 8 miles of books) and Central Park. What ended up happening? I met a friend and his friend in an exclusive club called the SoHo House and ended up relaxing next to a roof-top pool (one of only 3 in NYC) with some 30-year old Australian women and Argentinian models. Another example of unexpectedness? I came home from work today and was followed by a man from a different apartment into mine. He asked if he could come in then sort of just came in without waiting for a response. He comes in and starts moving things out of my sink and turns it on, leaves it running, and leaves with a promise to come back. Kay? He comes back with another guy and a tool. They duck under my sink and start unscrewing pipes and then jamming the tool into the pipes and snaking the drains. But after about 30 or so minutes of this, it wasn't enough so they both leave with a promise of coming back and come back with a bigger machine and another guy. They snake the pipes again with the bigger machine and stand around talking and eating for the next two hours. They leave, tell me to not use my sink, and tell me they'll come back the next morning.
Cheers to the daily adventure (pics to come, I haven't forgotten about the tower of Pisa).
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
An end and a beginning
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| The Pantheon |
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| The Trevi Fountain at night. |
Meanwhile, we peaced out of the church and headed to a crypt that was decorated with the bones of 4000 monks, some of which still had tissue attached...it was uncomfortable to say the least. Once we escaped the creepy pit, we essentially did the walking tour from the night before again, but backwards. It was an awesome opportunity to see the sights both at night and in the day, but my feet hated it. We made it to a market in the Campo di Fiori, where I mastered my haggling skills. I bought 20 key chains for my friends back at home. The set price? 2 euro each. The final price? 1.50. Not much, but whatever, I was proud. We later found ourselves in a war memorial museum thing. Interesting, but seemingly out of place. It's easy to forget that Rome has modern history as well.We had some final time to kill and decided to check out the island in the middle of the tiber that runs through Rome. In the past, walls were built around the island and decorated to make it look like a giant boat. It has served as some form of a hospital for over 1000 years. And that about wraps up Rome.
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| The Tiber River. |
By the time we made it to the Mediterranean, the weather had taken a turn for the worse. Which, was fine, since the beach was actually more just a network of giant rock and a small patch of sand. It was beautiful, though, with the rain clouds coming in and the island visible off in the distance. I dutifully touched the water and we headed home.
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| The remnants of the wall used to make the island look like a boat. |
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| A bridge to the island. |
PS I actually just moved in to NYC and there's a bunch to talk about...I've been intending to post this for about a week and I just got the time/internet connection.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Inspired
It is 2 minutes after midnight on the last full day I will spend in Siena, Italy for a long time, potentially forever. What a thought. I have mixed feelings. While Italy has been everything I had dreamed of and more, including, but not limited to: pizza, pasta, Colosseum, Trevi Fountain, Christmas lights strung outside, vineyards, rolling Tuscan hills, markets; I still miss home, though I'm not entirely sure where my home is (Lexington, VA? Littleton, CO? Rio Rancho, NM?). I miss being able to complete simple tasks such as grocery shopping without feeling like a bumbling idiot. I also miss a dollar being worth a dollar instead of 67% of a euro. So, with that in mind, and with a little inspiration from a blog written by a talented friend of mine that holds similar values, I decided to push through, speak a little bit more about Rome (THERE'S JUST SO MUCH!) and hopefully catch you up to my current adventures, after all, in just over 48 hours, I will be leaving this country for about a year.
OK, so THE Vatican City! The smallest country in the world, with a population around 1000 people. Did you know, you can only live in The Vatican City if you work for the Church? Also, inside the walls of the Vatican, there are no taxes, but there are (oddly enough) bars. The Vatican City has the greatest fortune of any country (or so our tour guide said, I think). So I guess we should start with meeting our lovely tour guide outside the foot locker on a corner near the Vatican, just moments after an attempted (and failed) pickpocketing experience. See, our group had to pay the fee for the tour in cash, which we were all short on. So naturally, we meander on over to potentially the sketchiest pair of ATMs in Rome to withdraw large amounts of cash. But, this bold young group of Americans did have the foresight to create a wall of bodies around the person withdrawing money so no one could rob, mug, or take them. However, that didn't really stop this one pair of people (a co-ed team) from trying. They sketchily stood next to us for a few minutes, and then when we said that there was a nearby ATM open, they meandered on over there, to be followed, seconds later, by complaints from a person about being pick pocketed.
So, in one of our less thought out moves, we offered to pay our tour guide up front. She seemed friendly enough. But, she was too smart for that, as her mother told her "never take cash on a street corner." Granted, her motherly was likely warning against other behaviour, but it served us well just the same. We were shortly joined by about 20 other people, a few were buddy groups from different countries out to experience Rome, a few were couples on Romantic get-aways, but none were going to stop me from being right next to our tour-guide who we will call Maggie, since we never did get her real name. (Also, just know that as I type this, I am thinking it with a British accent since Maggie's was so thick, that it was contagious. Seriously, this whole paragraph, British. Colour! See, it's even spreading to my spelling).
Flash-forward to inside the Vatican walls. We first visited the art gallery. Built by Pope something in 1937, it houses some of the greatest works of art. We got to walk through the halls, in chronological order (the only thing on the tour that actually went in order). First, we saw a statue that Michael Angelo carved when he was 19. It is the only piece of art he signed. Why did he sign this one? Because when it was debuted, noone believed he did it. It was attributed to some other guy from Niece. So Mikey snuck in to the Vatican and carved his name into the statue so people would know it was his. He was in such a hurry, he misspelled his own name! He had to go back and carve a tiny N inside the G (granted that doesn't exactly spell it right, but hey points for trying). We saw some Medieval art (it's terrible, even Maggie thinks so). We saw how art evolved, slowly people brought back techniques from Ancient Rome, drawing stairs in 3D, drawing people in 3D. Drawing people dynamically. Using fresco! Now let me tell you, Fresco sounds miserable! You have to layer on some plaster, then really quickly paint it before it dries (which in the summer could be a mere 20 minutes or so). But, if it didn't dry for a long time, as was the case the first time Mikey attempted the Sistene Chapel, it can grow moldy and you have to start all over again. Tradeoff is, though, that it's much more permanent and looks really good for much longer, except when people try and remove the fresco from the building to put it in a museum, then it cracks.
Moving from the hall of art, we moved to a statue garden. Some of the greatest statues of history are kept here (they, along with many other great pieces of art, were typically rescued from stupid places like from being a work bench, or the bottom of a stool, etc). One statue was rescued, but the right arm was never found, so some Pope said hey you two (Mikey and some other guy) build me another arm for this statue, I want it whole. So the other guy sculpts the arm stretched out, but Mikey sculpts it in this rather odd position, angled back to the head. And, surprise! A few hundred years later when the real arm is recovered, guess who was right?! Our boy Mikey! Fortunately he was dead when this was discovered because otherwise his ego would grow so large he'd be stuck in the Sistene Chapel, which, by the way, is named after Pope Sixus.
And as much as everyone loves Mikey, I must say, I'm partial to Raphael (and no, I'm not just naming of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles). Raphael was a contemporary of Mikeys, but was a few decades younger. They met, at one point, when the Pope called them both to the Vatican to compete for title of best artist in the history of the universe (OK, not the actual name of the competition, but it was a competition). So Mikey goes off and does the Sistene chapel, reluctantly, and Raphy goes and does the beautiful piece of art.
He dies, shortly thereafter due to syphilis and poor medicine (he came home one night after "partying" too much and after he didn't wake for a day or so, his buddies called the doctor, who decided to cure his exhaustion by blood letting, which only fatigued him more, i.e. killed him). The general consensus it that the Sistene chapel is way cooler than this painting, but I'm not so sure. If Raphael hadn't been such a playboy, I think he would have out done Mikey.
We saw a bunch of other stuff that was wroth insane amounts of money, some type of red marble that is, pound for pound, worth more than gold, 80% of which is owned by The Vatican. Nero's tub which is stupidly large. And then, we nervously entered the Sistene Chapel. We were instructed to not take pictures because: "The Sistene Chapel was a functioning church for hundreds of years. After centuries of burning candles, the ceiling and walls were covered in wax and soot. Restorations needed to be made, and in order to finance these, the Catholic Church sold the copyrights to the Sistene Chapel, and all the images therein, to NBC. Yes, that's right, you get yelled at by the Vatican camera nazis if you're taking pictures, not because it's bad for the art, but because the National Broadcasting Company has the rights. Granted, that didn't stop people. I wanted to punch those people, but whatever. You're also not supposed to talk inside the Sistene chapel but that also didn't stop people. I swear, people suck. I'm sorry were the 20 signs in like 5 different languages and very clear pictures not enough for you? Or, do you think you're above rules? Whatever. It was gorgeous. My neck still kind of hurts from looking at it. It's actually a pretty interesting story. So a few centuries ago, before the pilgrims had hunkered down with the Indians over popcorn and poultry, Pope Sixtus ordered the Sistene chapel built. So it's built. Later, some other Pope held another competition (it's a Pope thing) open to 16 different artists. They were all invited to come and paint the walls of the Sistene chapel, half with stories about Jesus and half with stories about Moses. Mikey wasn't one of them, he was only two at the time. 30 or so years later, another pope calls on Mikey to fresco the rather boring ceiling of the chapel. Mikey says no. "I'm a sculptor, not a painter, I can't and won't fresco the Sistene Chapel." So the Pope pulls, the "umm, but I'm the Pope" card and Mikey has to do it. So as we've discussed, fresco is hard. Mikey has NEVER done fresco before. So he argues with the Pope (who is this guy) about which stories will be on the ceiling that will "inspire people to believe in God again" but also offer a story about how it's ok if Mikey is bad at frescoes (which he's not). He gets "The Drunkenness of Noah" in there, to mention how even the best people mess up sometimes. It takes him four years, but he does it. He works his way from the back of the Chapel to the front, getting better with time, learning more about fresco. He walks away satisfied at a job well done, and goes back to sculpting. Another 30 or so years later, another Pope calls on Mikey to paint the back? wall. "Mikey, my man, people are pretty terrible. No one is living a Christian lifestyle, I need you to paint something that will strike the fear of God into people's hearts." So, in what Mikey thought was going to be his last great piece of art (he wasn't expecting to live to 89) he paints the back wall of the Sistene Chapel. By this time he's very accomplished at fresco. He has mastered drawing/sculpting/painting the male form (he didn't use female models (Raphy used female prostitutes, he wasn't very popular with the Vatican)). There are over 300 individual forms in this painting, in which angels are reading from two books: a small one, of names of people who are going to Heaven (some with the help of their rosaries), and a large one, of names of people going to Hell. Mikey didn't have a lot of faith in people. There are some saints in there, like the one who was grilled alive, skinned alive, tortured on a wheel, etc. So he finishes, and some bishop has the audacity to say "I don't like it. Too many naked people." So Mikey gets pissed (as he's apt to do) breaks in to the Vatican one night (as he's also apt to do) and paints this bishop in Hell, naked, with donkey ears and snake wrapped around him biting his man-junk. The next morning the Bishop sees the picture, runs to the Pope (who was a fan of Mikey's work) and says "Look! Father, Look! Look what Michael did" and the Pope says "Nothing I can do. Had he painted you in Heaven, then maybe I could have done something, but the Pope has no say in Hell."
Moving out of the Sistene chapel, we entered St. Peters Basilica. The largest church in the world. It was amazing. I've never felt closer to God, and I'm not even Catholic. I'm excited to return next year to sing mass with the WnL Choir. Instead of describing this place, let me just post a video of, what I hope, is a great approximation of my best experience in the church.
OK, so it's on the wrong side for now, It's a little after one, so I'll fix it as soon as I can. Also, in case you didn't get it, there were these two very distinct and clear beams of light coming in through the dome in the Basilica down to the ground in the middle of the Isle. Naturally, I walked into one, looked into the light, was blinded by said light, took a few steps forward to see the glory of the Alter and the church appear around me out of nowhere. And naturally, I took a few steps back, pulled out my camera and did it again (I'm always thinking of my readers). Meanwhile, here is a picture of the gang and Aunt Maggie. And a panorama of St. Peter's Basilica.
Cheers to the daily adventure! (Tomorrow, 2 walking tours through Rome. And an Island!)
OK, so THE Vatican City! The smallest country in the world, with a population around 1000 people. Did you know, you can only live in The Vatican City if you work for the Church? Also, inside the walls of the Vatican, there are no taxes, but there are (oddly enough) bars. The Vatican City has the greatest fortune of any country (or so our tour guide said, I think). So I guess we should start with meeting our lovely tour guide outside the foot locker on a corner near the Vatican, just moments after an attempted (and failed) pickpocketing experience. See, our group had to pay the fee for the tour in cash, which we were all short on. So naturally, we meander on over to potentially the sketchiest pair of ATMs in Rome to withdraw large amounts of cash. But, this bold young group of Americans did have the foresight to create a wall of bodies around the person withdrawing money so no one could rob, mug, or take them. However, that didn't really stop this one pair of people (a co-ed team) from trying. They sketchily stood next to us for a few minutes, and then when we said that there was a nearby ATM open, they meandered on over there, to be followed, seconds later, by complaints from a person about being pick pocketed.
So, in one of our less thought out moves, we offered to pay our tour guide up front. She seemed friendly enough. But, she was too smart for that, as her mother told her "never take cash on a street corner." Granted, her motherly was likely warning against other behaviour, but it served us well just the same. We were shortly joined by about 20 other people, a few were buddy groups from different countries out to experience Rome, a few were couples on Romantic get-aways, but none were going to stop me from being right next to our tour-guide who we will call Maggie, since we never did get her real name. (Also, just know that as I type this, I am thinking it with a British accent since Maggie's was so thick, that it was contagious. Seriously, this whole paragraph, British. Colour! See, it's even spreading to my spelling).
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| This is the piece, Mikey signed. |
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| Forgive the poor quality, I was still figuring out how to work the camera. | This is the wrong arm. |
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| This is the original arm. |
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| Poor quality pic of Raphael's awesome piece. But notice the light and dark. |
He dies, shortly thereafter due to syphilis and poor medicine (he came home one night after "partying" too much and after he didn't wake for a day or so, his buddies called the doctor, who decided to cure his exhaustion by blood letting, which only fatigued him more, i.e. killed him). The general consensus it that the Sistene chapel is way cooler than this painting, but I'm not so sure. If Raphael hadn't been such a playboy, I think he would have out done Mikey.
We saw a bunch of other stuff that was wroth insane amounts of money, some type of red marble that is, pound for pound, worth more than gold, 80% of which is owned by The Vatican. Nero's tub which is stupidly large. And then, we nervously entered the Sistene Chapel. We were instructed to not take pictures because: "The Sistene Chapel was a functioning church for hundreds of years. After centuries of burning candles, the ceiling and walls were covered in wax and soot. Restorations needed to be made, and in order to finance these, the Catholic Church sold the copyrights to the Sistene Chapel, and all the images therein, to NBC. Yes, that's right, you get yelled at by the Vatican camera nazis if you're taking pictures, not because it's bad for the art, but because the National Broadcasting Company has the rights. Granted, that didn't stop people. I wanted to punch those people, but whatever. You're also not supposed to talk inside the Sistene chapel but that also didn't stop people. I swear, people suck. I'm sorry were the 20 signs in like 5 different languages and very clear pictures not enough for you? Or, do you think you're above rules? Whatever. It was gorgeous. My neck still kind of hurts from looking at it. It's actually a pretty interesting story. So a few centuries ago, before the pilgrims had hunkered down with the Indians over popcorn and poultry, Pope Sixtus ordered the Sistene chapel built. So it's built. Later, some other Pope held another competition (it's a Pope thing) open to 16 different artists. They were all invited to come and paint the walls of the Sistene chapel, half with stories about Jesus and half with stories about Moses. Mikey wasn't one of them, he was only two at the time. 30 or so years later, another pope calls on Mikey to fresco the rather boring ceiling of the chapel. Mikey says no. "I'm a sculptor, not a painter, I can't and won't fresco the Sistene Chapel." So the Pope pulls, the "umm, but I'm the Pope" card and Mikey has to do it. So as we've discussed, fresco is hard. Mikey has NEVER done fresco before. So he argues with the Pope (who is this guy) about which stories will be on the ceiling that will "inspire people to believe in God again" but also offer a story about how it's ok if Mikey is bad at frescoes (which he's not). He gets "The Drunkenness of Noah" in there, to mention how even the best people mess up sometimes. It takes him four years, but he does it. He works his way from the back of the Chapel to the front, getting better with time, learning more about fresco. He walks away satisfied at a job well done, and goes back to sculpting. Another 30 or so years later, another Pope calls on Mikey to paint the back? wall. "Mikey, my man, people are pretty terrible. No one is living a Christian lifestyle, I need you to paint something that will strike the fear of God into people's hearts." So, in what Mikey thought was going to be his last great piece of art (he wasn't expecting to live to 89) he paints the back wall of the Sistene Chapel. By this time he's very accomplished at fresco. He has mastered drawing/sculpting/painting the male form (he didn't use female models (Raphy used female prostitutes, he wasn't very popular with the Vatican)). There are over 300 individual forms in this painting, in which angels are reading from two books: a small one, of names of people who are going to Heaven (some with the help of their rosaries), and a large one, of names of people going to Hell. Mikey didn't have a lot of faith in people. There are some saints in there, like the one who was grilled alive, skinned alive, tortured on a wheel, etc. So he finishes, and some bishop has the audacity to say "I don't like it. Too many naked people." So Mikey gets pissed (as he's apt to do) breaks in to the Vatican one night (as he's also apt to do) and paints this bishop in Hell, naked, with donkey ears and snake wrapped around him biting his man-junk. The next morning the Bishop sees the picture, runs to the Pope (who was a fan of Mikey's work) and says "Look! Father, Look! Look what Michael did" and the Pope says "Nothing I can do. Had he painted you in Heaven, then maybe I could have done something, but the Pope has no say in Hell."
Moving out of the Sistene chapel, we entered St. Peters Basilica. The largest church in the world. It was amazing. I've never felt closer to God, and I'm not even Catholic. I'm excited to return next year to sing mass with the WnL Choir. Instead of describing this place, let me just post a video of, what I hope, is a great approximation of my best experience in the church.
OK, so it's on the wrong side for now, It's a little after one, so I'll fix it as soon as I can. Also, in case you didn't get it, there were these two very distinct and clear beams of light coming in through the dome in the Basilica down to the ground in the middle of the Isle. Naturally, I walked into one, looked into the light, was blinded by said light, took a few steps forward to see the glory of the Alter and the church appear around me out of nowhere. And naturally, I took a few steps back, pulled out my camera and did it again (I'm always thinking of my readers). Meanwhile, here is a picture of the gang and Aunt Maggie. And a panorama of St. Peter's Basilica. |
| Us, and the ex-chem teacher, tour-guide by day, Irish Pub bartender by night. |
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| Bonus artsy pic for making it this far. THE CROSS IS IN THE SUN! I'M AWESOME! |
Cheers to the daily adventure! (Tomorrow, 2 walking tours through Rome. And an Island!)
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
A Push Through Rome
OK, where were we? Oh yes, the Roman Forums, the political, artistic,
and religious center of civilization for over 1400 years. We trudged
along to buy tickets to see the ruins (which was quite a feat, since we
got a little lost and the forums are HUGE! so we had to walk around
nearly half of them to try and buy tickets). Finally getting into the
Forums, we began meandering around, directed by the audioguide that we
bought. I'm not a big believer in the audioguides or the tour guides,
but I am so happy that I bought the audioguide.
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| The Forums from the outside. |
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| The Forums, also from the outside/the old entrance. |
The forums without an audio guide: "Oh cool look at those columns. I wonder what this was. Man this place is pretty dusty. I wonder how old these things are. Do we have to walk all around this? OK that was fun. Colosseum?"
The Forums with an audio guide: "NO WAY! This was a temple to Saturn. And this used to be a platform where orators would entertain crowds. Oh, this was the house of the Vestel Virgins that watched over religious ceremonies for the city. They apparently buried some urns when the Guals were invading Rome. etc." Definitely worth the investment. Granted, this audiotour only covered about 1/4th of the Forums. We were left on our own to explore the rest (and typically make up what they were ruins of). But, we managed to find ourselves in a gardeny area overlooking the Forums, while still being in the Forums, I think... Here, we heard English. And, as is now customary for us to do, we immediately walked towards it. Some British lady was giving a tour, and we decided to tag along to learn some new things about the forums. She was sitting on a wall at the edge of the gardens, on top of a cliff above the Forums. She was so excited about what she was saying that she kept bouncing around, I was sure she was going to fall over and die in the Forums. She didn't, and in fact, she was just finishing up her tour. When she finished, she gave a shameless plug for her tour at the Vatican tomorrow and invited all of us, even the ones that jumped on at the very end. She also reassured us that it was a free tour anyways so it was no big deal. We took her card and promised to let her know by 10 that evening if we were going to do it.
The sun was beginning to go down, and we had to get to the metro station and get home. We walked to what we thought was the metro station, in fact it was just a bus station. We stood around for about ten minutes re-reading the signs and trying to figure out why our stop wasn't mentioned. Then we looked across the street to the the giant entrance to the metro station. Oh. We headed down, purchased three-day passes for 11 dollars and found where our train would be coming in. We realized that this whole strike thing was really going to mess with us getting on the train, when there was already a crowd of people lining the entire stop about 4 or 5 people deep. Fortunately, we have training. There's a bus that carries students home from parties at our school, and getting on is generally much worse of an experience than this metro stop was shaping up to be. What we didn't expect, however, was for the train to come screeching to a halt in the station literally packed with people. No one was getting off and even more people were squeezing on. People talk about how bad the buses are in India, I feel like this was probably worse. Two of the seven of us got on. The rest of us had to wait for the next one, and develop a game plan. When the next train came into the station, a few people actually got off and we bustled on. Some old lady who was getting off threw an elbow into the face of one of the girls in the group as she was getting on. Other than that, no casualties and we all made it on with literally no room to spare. I kept expecting people to get off at the next stop, but they never did. At one point, I was stuck on one foot. Everyone was sweating since the car didn't have air conditioning (everything they say about Italians not believing in deodorant is true). We eventually got off the train at the very last stop to find our two friends who had a similar experience on their train. Laughing about it, we searched for our hotel which was theoretically only 3 minutes away. We eventually found it and my only prayer was that it was clean and had beds. I was held in a limbo for quite some time worrying about what it was going to look like because splitting a bill into 6 parts for seven people in his second language proved to be a bit too much for the guy at the front desk. But, after about 20 minutes we figured it all out, got the keys to our rooms and found that the rooms were, in fact, clean and also had beds! Success!
We showered off the grease and sweat from the days events (in an incredibly powerful jet of water that also flooded the bathroom...) and headed down to dinner in the hotel. We were the only customers and the chef/server/manager treated us very well. So well, in fact, that she earned family status as grandma. The matriarch of our Italian family gave us free appetizers and desserts and laughed when we tried to eat a salad with our hands because 1) they didn't give us utensils and 2) we were delirious from exhaustion.
The next morning, we headed out, back into Rome on the no-longer-on-strike metro. We had a plan, and stuck to it pretty well. First, we headed to Palantine hill. The ancient home of the Who's Who of Rome. It over looks the Forums and Circus Maximus. It was interesting but without an audioguide, a little lack-lustre. Then, on to the Colosseum (thank God for spellcheck, I haven't spelled that right once). I was so excited, I could barely contain myself. This WAS Rome. Of all of the famous things things in the world, the Colosseum was right up there, and I was about to walk inside. Not to mention, it was HUGE and really old. We breezed the line (since, following the tour book's suggestions, we already had our tickets and instead of waiting an hour and change, we waited maybe 30 seconds). Then we were there! Inside an ancient stadium. I felt like I was inside Invesco Field at Mile High all over again. I could totally see an ancient Roman high school hosting prom here. Walking into the stands of the Colosseum was an amazing experience. I could just feel the history, how many gladiators had fought there, the staged naval battles, etc. It was also sad, though, to think that such an amazing piece of architecture fell to such ruin. Though, fortunately, it still stands because some theory says "Rome stands as long as the Colosseum stands. And when Rome falls, so does the world."
 |
| This is poorly stitched together, but it gets the idea across. This place is huge! |
After the Colosseum, we headed to The Vatican City, capitol of the Catholic world. But, that is a story for tomorrow. Cheers to the daily adventure.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
As Much As I Can
Back in Siena after an exhausting and yet thrilling weekend in the Eternal City, Rome. My body is achy and I'm barely awake but I feel that I must start blogging about this weekend so I can try and get it all down. There was just so much to see/do and we did just about everything. So here's the plan: I'm going to start writing about this weekend and keep going till I just about pass out, I'll post it and then follow up with the rest of the story and pictures. I hope this be cohesive and up to whatever standard I've already set for myself, not that that's a very high bar. So, here goes.
I had a very small set of goals for this past trip to Rome. I wanted to see the Colosseum (because of the movie Jumper/because it's the Colosseum), I wanted to see the Tevi Fountain (because of the Lizzie McGuire Movie, feel free to judge), and I wanted to see St. Peter's Basilica (because of Angels and Demons). Check, Check, and Check. I also wanted to avoid getting taken, pick-pocketed, or mugged. Check, check, and check. Other than that, I figured I'd role with the punches, Rome wasn't built in a day and it certainly wasn't designed to be seen in one or two, so I wasn't going to stress about it...False. But, I suppose if I'm going to give you a cohesive narrative about this weekend, I should really go back to the beginning. Thursday.
This past Thursday, we had between 1 and 3 field trips (depending on how you count). We began in a cookie factory. This place was absolutely huge! But, before we got to see it, we had to slip into a hairnet, a gauze jacket, and booties. Apparently, because they ship their cookies internationally, they're held to different standards of health and need to ensure that we look ridiculous before viewing their magic machines. And, while I didn't forget my camera, as evidenced by this picture of the outfit, I couldn't get any pictures of plethora of magic machines because it was forbidden. The guy never really explained why, but I heard grumblings about labels and copyright. It was insane though, there was a machine for everything, but they all needed human help. I felt like I was in Willy Wanka's factory and I was an oompa loompa, so naturally I started humming/singing the theme song while we saw all the different ways to make cookies and cakes etc.
Later, we stopped for lunch in a random town, during which they played only the Beatles. I was confused. Though, while I'm not a particularly big Beatles fan when I'm in the US, I was so happy to hear English, that the Beatles were literally music to my ears. The view from outside the restaurant was absolutely amazing.
After lunch, we went to a brewery. I'm not sure how many of you have been inside the brewery part of a brewery, but it smells terrible. There are more magic machines, but these ones excrete all sorts of smells, and it's loud, and wet for some reason. The people working there were all guys. It was a very different experience than the pristine vineyard where we had the wine tasting. We had to drive another 4 minutes after seeing the brewery to get to the tasting room. During which, I was surrounded by girls who didn't want to finish their half glasses of beer that they were tasting, so they'd pour it in my glass. Somehow, a simple beer tasting turned into around 5 or so glasses of beer, the first of which was really foamy; the second smelled like mangoes, tasted like mangoes, but had a horrible after taste; the third tasted like all of the awesome parts of a water park and had a slightly better after taste, the fourth was a chestnut beer and was actually pretty good, and the last was an aged chestnut beer. I left the tasting unpleasantly full of beer. Our teacher really needs to consider people's drinking habits before she allows them on the trip. Each person should be able to abide by the cardinal rule: no wounded soldiers in Italy.
Later that night, as it was someone on the trip's birthday, we went to El Gringo for dinner and tequila and sangria. Surprisingly, and upsettingly, the Mexican food in Siena, Italy is better than the mexican food in Lexington, Virginia. Granted, I avoided the meats, but either way, I was in heaven. Something other than basil, tomatoes, and olive oil! We then moved to a coffee bar, then an Irish pub (we were trying to be as cultural as possible) and finally to the most hopping bar in Siena. I'm not one to party, so I just watched my friends do a few rounds of shots at the last bar as they decided that it was finally time to get to know the locals. It was 11:45 at night. By 12:45 we had met a man who had been in the Italian army as a parachuter (he was 34) and one of our girls had decided that she was going to fulfill her goal of kissing an Italian man. But she got stage fright around the parachuter and decided to ask someone closer to her own age for advice. Mind you, our train to Rome left in just under 9 hours and was a 45 minute walk away and none of us were packed. She begged to have 10 more minutes to find a wing woman and spit some game, and challenged the rest of the group to beat her. No one ended up kissing Italians. One person did end up getting followed by a lesbian and making out with a guy from Lousiana. Granted that cannot be confirmed because it happened at 3:30 in the morning, long after I'd gone home. Unfortunately, at 1:40 when I decided it really was time to go home, I didn't have my key. When we were leaving early in the night I thought to myself, "hmm, Keaton, should you grab your key? No, things haven't gone past 1 here ever, and no one has gotten out of hand. It'll be fine." False. The roommie brought his key, but decided to stay out a tad bit later than I would have liked, by roughly 2 hours and change. I finally managed to get his key on the condition that I let him in when he got home. So I get home at 1:45, and start to do things to keep myself busy and awake while I wait for him. I packed and pulled my laundry in off of the clothes line. While doing that, I dropped some of my shorts onto the clothes line of the floor below me, but I couldn't reach them from the ground. I ended up trying to knock them down using a bag of recyclable plastic that was from our downstairs neighbors (the ones who's clothes line my shorts were now on). Instead, I just ended up hitting their window a lot, waking them up, getting laughed at, and having them hand them to me. It was an uncomfortable interaction for any time of day, let alone 2 AM. I ended up falling asleep at 2:30, waking up at 3:30 just before the roommie got home. I let him in, and tried to fall back asleep. It wasn't until around 4:30 that I could fall back asleep. About 4 hours later, I woke up, finished packing and headed on the way to Rome. The roomie did the same, but at a much slower pace, for obvious reasons.
I was shocked at how tired I wasn't. I was equally shocked at how easily we managed to get into Rome. A swift transition from bus to train and boom ROME! I was so excited. All we had to do was take the metro to our hotel, check in, drop our bags off, come back into the city and start site seeing. But, as the saying goes, even the best laid plans can be ruined by European unions. The Italian metro workers were on strike. But not for the whole day, just from 5-8 AM, 10 AM-5 PM, and 8 PM to the end of the day. So we had a 3 hour window during which we could actually get to the hotel (which we still weren't sure would be a decent hotel). But, even 5 PM was still 3.5 hours away. So what were we to do but wander around Rome carrying our back packs? In fact, we happened to wander to the Roman Forums! And here is where I think the story has to stop because my eyes are closed and I'm just typing, assuming that words are coming out right. Cheers to the daily adventure.
I had a very small set of goals for this past trip to Rome. I wanted to see the Colosseum (because of the movie Jumper/because it's the Colosseum), I wanted to see the Tevi Fountain (because of the Lizzie McGuire Movie, feel free to judge), and I wanted to see St. Peter's Basilica (because of Angels and Demons). Check, Check, and Check. I also wanted to avoid getting taken, pick-pocketed, or mugged. Check, check, and check. Other than that, I figured I'd role with the punches, Rome wasn't built in a day and it certainly wasn't designed to be seen in one or two, so I wasn't going to stress about it...False. But, I suppose if I'm going to give you a cohesive narrative about this weekend, I should really go back to the beginning. Thursday.
This past Thursday, we had between 1 and 3 field trips (depending on how you count). We began in a cookie factory. This place was absolutely huge! But, before we got to see it, we had to slip into a hairnet, a gauze jacket, and booties. Apparently, because they ship their cookies internationally, they're held to different standards of health and need to ensure that we look ridiculous before viewing their magic machines. And, while I didn't forget my camera, as evidenced by this picture of the outfit, I couldn't get any pictures of plethora of magic machines because it was forbidden. The guy never really explained why, but I heard grumblings about labels and copyright. It was insane though, there was a machine for everything, but they all needed human help. I felt like I was in Willy Wanka's factory and I was an oompa loompa, so naturally I started humming/singing the theme song while we saw all the different ways to make cookies and cakes etc.
 |
| It's hard to look thug as an oompa loompa, but I tried my best. |
 |
| One of the courses at lunch. |
Later that night, as it was someone on the trip's birthday, we went to El Gringo for dinner and tequila and sangria. Surprisingly, and upsettingly, the Mexican food in Siena, Italy is better than the mexican food in Lexington, Virginia. Granted, I avoided the meats, but either way, I was in heaven. Something other than basil, tomatoes, and olive oil! We then moved to a coffee bar, then an Irish pub (we were trying to be as cultural as possible) and finally to the most hopping bar in Siena. I'm not one to party, so I just watched my friends do a few rounds of shots at the last bar as they decided that it was finally time to get to know the locals. It was 11:45 at night. By 12:45 we had met a man who had been in the Italian army as a parachuter (he was 34) and one of our girls had decided that she was going to fulfill her goal of kissing an Italian man. But she got stage fright around the parachuter and decided to ask someone closer to her own age for advice. Mind you, our train to Rome left in just under 9 hours and was a 45 minute walk away and none of us were packed. She begged to have 10 more minutes to find a wing woman and spit some game, and challenged the rest of the group to beat her. No one ended up kissing Italians. One person did end up getting followed by a lesbian and making out with a guy from Lousiana. Granted that cannot be confirmed because it happened at 3:30 in the morning, long after I'd gone home. Unfortunately, at 1:40 when I decided it really was time to go home, I didn't have my key. When we were leaving early in the night I thought to myself, "hmm, Keaton, should you grab your key? No, things haven't gone past 1 here ever, and no one has gotten out of hand. It'll be fine." False. The roommie brought his key, but decided to stay out a tad bit later than I would have liked, by roughly 2 hours and change. I finally managed to get his key on the condition that I let him in when he got home. So I get home at 1:45, and start to do things to keep myself busy and awake while I wait for him. I packed and pulled my laundry in off of the clothes line. While doing that, I dropped some of my shorts onto the clothes line of the floor below me, but I couldn't reach them from the ground. I ended up trying to knock them down using a bag of recyclable plastic that was from our downstairs neighbors (the ones who's clothes line my shorts were now on). Instead, I just ended up hitting their window a lot, waking them up, getting laughed at, and having them hand them to me. It was an uncomfortable interaction for any time of day, let alone 2 AM. I ended up falling asleep at 2:30, waking up at 3:30 just before the roommie got home. I let him in, and tried to fall back asleep. It wasn't until around 4:30 that I could fall back asleep. About 4 hours later, I woke up, finished packing and headed on the way to Rome. The roomie did the same, but at a much slower pace, for obvious reasons.
I was shocked at how tired I wasn't. I was equally shocked at how easily we managed to get into Rome. A swift transition from bus to train and boom ROME! I was so excited. All we had to do was take the metro to our hotel, check in, drop our bags off, come back into the city and start site seeing. But, as the saying goes, even the best laid plans can be ruined by European unions. The Italian metro workers were on strike. But not for the whole day, just from 5-8 AM, 10 AM-5 PM, and 8 PM to the end of the day. So we had a 3 hour window during which we could actually get to the hotel (which we still weren't sure would be a decent hotel). But, even 5 PM was still 3.5 hours away. So what were we to do but wander around Rome carrying our back packs? In fact, we happened to wander to the Roman Forums! And here is where I think the story has to stop because my eyes are closed and I'm just typing, assuming that words are coming out right. Cheers to the daily adventure.
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