The Importance of Having Game

Today I give you the Daily December Photo:

Courtyard of the Palace Hotel

...and a Heart-Warming Christmas Story:

Walking the four blocks home from a friend's house tonight, I encountered two neighborhood youths.

"Hey, you're kinda cute," one guy shouted as we passed each other on the sidewalk, "Wanna smoke a blunt?"

"Only *kinda* cute?" I shouted over my shoulder, indignant.

Kids today.

The End

Making Friends In The Neighborhood
(A Play in One Act)

Act One

Scene 1

(Evening. Kristy arrives home at her building. A group of neighborhood youths is loitering

 outside. Kristy approaches and the youths make way to allow her to reach the doorway.)

YOUTH 

Hey, what's your name?

KRISTY 

 (Unwilling to give up information without first receiving some)

What's your name? 

YOUTH 

Caliph.

KRISTY

Hi, Caliph.  I'm Kristy.

CALIPH

How old are you?

KRISTY  

How old do you think I am?

CALIPH 

Nineteen.

KRISTY  

(ignores the 15-year underestimation;
unlocks door; enters front hallway)

Good answer, Caliph.

CALIPH 

(calls after her)

Hey, do you have a boyfriend?

KRISTY  

(over her shoulder)

Goodnight, Caliph!

CALIPH 

All right, good night.

End scene.

I Hear You When I'm Sleeping
December Photo Project Day #17

UNICEF Baccarat Crystal Snowflake, 5th Ave & 57th Street

My upstairs neighbor was vacuuming at midnight last night.  And then again at 1am. If an upstairs neighbor has to have a late-night cleaning habit, I think I'd prefer if it were dusting, or silver-polishing, or something.

Still, the vacuuming was preferable to his commotion a few weeks ago, when he woke me up in the middle of the night by screaming f-bombs over and over.  I mean, really, over and over and over.  I don't know that I've ever heard that many f-bombs strung together, not even in a Die Hard movie.

When he was finally done venting verbally, I heard an odd rustling sound.  And then - white flurries outside my window.  Sadly it was not snow, but rather, falling papers.  He cleaned house by dumping reams of paper out his window and into the air shaft that separates our building from the neighboring one.  Weird, and not a little environmentally irresponsible.

I think my neighbor is a student, and I wonder if maybe some sort of end-of-semester psychosis is setting in?  I vaguely remember what that was like - to be in finals mode, a ball of stress, barely sleeping, subsisting largely on pints of Ben & Jerry's Low-Fat Frozen Yogurt and instant mashed potatoes (or was that just me?).

In a situation like that, you slowly lose your grip on what constitutes normal behavior. And vacuuming at midnight starts to seem like an excellent idea - both because you probably haven't vacuumed all semester so you're overdue, plus you're desperately seeking excuses to delay writing that history thesis.  Win-win.

Except for your downstairs neighbor, who loses a little when her sleep is disrupted by your psychosis.  But that's ok, little student; your downstairs neighbor remembers how final exams can be crazy-making.  And she didn't move to the city for peace and quiet, anyways.

So clean on.

(But try to recycle.)

Anatomy of a Saturday

After traveling out of town for the past two weekends, I was pretty stinkin' excited to just BE this weekend.  And especially to BE in my neighborhood, which I've been missing.  I just really dig this place on the weekends, you know?

I am not very good at going to bed on time, nor am I very good at sleeping in, but I WON on both accounts Friday night/Saturday morning. So I started the day well-rested, a rarity.  After some quiet time in the morning, I went to the gym and H&H Bagels (does a bagel negate the gym? Yeah, I didn't think so.)  Then I walked down Broadway to a coffee shop and did some writing.  And some eavesdropping.  (Don't judge! What's a girl to do, in a coffee shop?) 

While I was there, I got a call from the hilarious SBG and went to join her and her hilarious husband for lunch at Shake Shack and a little location scouting.  Then I walked over to CJ's place for vodka- lemonade punch, pizza, and fun party games with fun people in her twinkle-light-lit backyard.

I thought about going downtown to see an Improv show, but decided against it.  I really didn't feel like leaving the 'hood.  Sometimes Saturdays are best spent staying put, you know?

Dear Saturday,

Thanks for being awesome.  Please tell your friend, Next Saturday, to get here ASAP.

Love,
Me

Happy In The 'Hood

Lincoln Center

Have you heard of Gretchen Rubin's book The Happiness Project? I haven't actually read it myself. But do I follow Gretchen's blog, where she discusses all things related to happiness.  Sometimes she has some good sense tips on how to achieve order, balance and yes - happiness, in your life. Worth a look.

In a recent post, Gretchen listed ten simple ideas to eliminate stress.  Number 9?  "Have at least one good friend who lives in the neighborhood."

I know this has certainly affected my happiness level.  One of my chief complaints with Brooklyn (besides the grocery stores all closing at 9pm) was that I felt isolated when I lived there.  I didn't know anyone else in my neighborhood.  Moving to a location where I have friends nearby has definitely made me a more happy camper.

I was especially grateful for friends' proximity during the past week when - on two separate occasions - I was able to pack up my dinner and walk over to a neighbor's house to eat.  Many thanks to CJL and JJ for sharing their couches and TVs with me.  So You Think You Can Dance and the Tony Awards are much better when watched with friends.

Five for Five

Happy Cinco de Mayo, todo el mundo!

Once again, I don't really know what we're celebrating on this holiday, apart from margaritas.  But then again, margaritas are reason enough to celebrate in my book.

For added measure, here are five other things I'm celebrating and giving thanks for today:

1) "Freaks and Geeks." I missed this all-too-brief TV series when it debuted in 1999, but I'm making up for lost time by burning through the boxed set now. It's so, so, so good!  High school portrayed in a way that is real and poignant - but not sappy - and with wit.  The characters are relatable and endearing.  I'm completely crushing on Bill Haverchuck, tall gangly geek par excellence.

2) "Chocolate Underground" Stonyfield Yogurt. Slightly sour, slightly chocolate, this may not sound like a great combo but somehow it works.  Plus, it reminds me of my favorite sweet-treat from the Netherlands, adding another whole layer of emotional comfort to chocolate.  And summer-time bonus: stick it in the freezer for an hour! Yum, and again I say: yum.

3) My Pandora "Days of Wine & Roses" radio station. Based upon this song (by Mr. Frank Sinatra, who else?) Pandora spins a toe-tapping play list which makes my work day a little more peppy and hope-ful.

4) Pink Jersey Sheets.  They're pink, they're soft, they're snuggly, they're the perfect spring-time sheet weight.  That's pretty much all I have to say about them.  They just make me happy.

5) Neighbors.  Love 'em.  Loved walking in Riverside Park with JJ on Sunday afternoon so that we could debrief our Saturday nights.  Loved running into my Hebrew teacher at the gym on Monday.  Loved meeting with CJ at the 'bucks between our places to talk through the week's events.  Love feeling connected and known in the place that I live.

Neighbors

So I have this neighbor, let's call her "Brownie." (This pseudonym is not racially motivated, but rather dessert motivated; her actual name is also a baked good.) Brownie has lived in the building for many years, and livened up the drab hallway on our floor with, among other things, a poster of a golden retreiver holding 3 tennis balls in his mouth, a painting of 2 men (who may be former Supreme Court Justices, I am unclear on this), some "Support Our Troops" stickers, a couple plants, and a full length mirror.

In the past few weeks, Brownie has enhanced the existing decor with some holiday spirit - she wrapped the plants' tables in red and green paper, and hung a wreath and a few "Merry Christmas" signs on her door.

Today, however, I arrived home to find that the holiday decorations had virtually exploded and multiplied - a 'Santas of the World' figurine collection has replaced one of the plants, and the walls are now covered with images of candy canes, mistletoe, and reindeer. These images spill down the staircase into the 4th floor hallway, and up the stairs leading to the roof: the 5th floor cannot contain Brownie's festivity! It runneth over with Christmas cheer.

I walked slowly to my apartment, scarcely able to absorb the "splendor" of it all and stiffling a laugh. At the end of the hall, hanging between my door and my other neighbor's door, was perhaps the best part of all: a small, shiny metallic "Happy Hannukah" banner taped to the wall.

I am not sure who made this interfaith contribution to the holiday-riffic hallway - some of you readers at home may suspect it was me, but I swear it wasn't. My other neighbor has a mezzuzah on his door and an Israeli-sounding name, so the banner seems to be in deference to him. But it's anyone's guess if he hung it there himself, in an attempt to maintain his Jewish identity in the face of so many miniature Santas staring back at him, or was it placed there by Brownie, a decorating concession made in effort to promote 5th floor religious harmony?

If I find out, I'll let you know. In the meantime, Season's Greetings!

Who are the people in your neighborhood?

I have discovered that there is a slightly crazy man in my building. I have run into him twice now in the lobby. This last time he ignored me for a minute while I fumbled to find my keys and get my mail, then he started a conversation by saying, "And another thing I like to do is go down to talk to the fire safety inspector..."

Our conversations are always one-sided (him) and center around all the things that are wrong/broken in the building, and how you have to take action and people don't know that you can take action, but you can because you have rights. And you can't trust the police, with their lies and alibis (he often breaks out in rhyme), no sir.

I always nod and agree, because I listen to Peter Paul and Mary and am very anti-establishment. Also because I think agreeing is the quickest way to end the conversation and escape this neighborly exchange.

This man has clearly lived in the building for quite awhile, perhaps much to the chagrin of the super and landlord. I wonder what he does most days, when he's not downstairs complaining in front of the mailboxes? Maybe he has standing appointments with various public servants, during which he berates them for their "collections but no corrections."

What a character.