crush cubed!

i was cured all right

As noted below, Amber Bear arrives tomorrow afternoon. She'll be shopping and enjoying herself during the days while KM and I slave away at work.

(Note: today's slaving has included discussing my Halloween costume with Paul and, as noted below, applying to culinary school.)

Friday night brings clams at Trout, I believe, for a Bon Voyage get-together for Josh. I look forward to introducing AB to everyone.

Saturday morning Next week brings an appointment with an admissions counselor at the French Culinary Institute...!

(Note: this means I cannot go balls-to-the-wall like I did on Sunday night [but I probably shouldn't].)

So, yeah, Halloween costumes: what do you think? Supergirl, Polaris, Poison Ivy, Starbuck, or the ol' frat boy-esque standby that I've been discussing for years: Alex from A Clockwork Orange? VOTE OR DIE!

heat

I just submitted my application to culinary school.

I feel like I'm going to throw up.

so terribly charming

As I attempted to extend my vacation to the very last minute, I didn't get home and into my own bed until around 8:30 pm last night. This is despite flying back into JFK at 6:30 pm on Sunday. Yes, I hopped off the plane, went directly to Moonshine for "29 on 29" (with luggage in tow), slept on KM & Josh's couch, hung with boys yesterday, and begrudgingly went home to a stack of junk mail and an unmade bed. Call it post-vacation depression.

Not many pictures are up yet (save for ones of the party and a few of me and my bro) but they will be soon.

If I close my eyes, I can imagine myself in St. Thomas.

The summer is winding down. Tomorrow brings August (and Amber Bear). What a summer this has been; I've felt a little off my rocker the entire time. I've partied like it was the Summer of Action all over again.

Maybe I need autumn to arrive, if only so that I may have a bit more money in my bank account and reacquaint myself with the gym.

No; the summer is winding down and it really bums me out.

i can see my toes

I did it: I visited the clothing-optional beach in St. Maarten. Now, I won't give you any of the sordid details, but let's just say it was fun and no, I didn't go with my family. Gross.

(Though my aunt and uncle did happen to spot me, but that's another story for another time...)

Today, while floating in the crystal clear water at Magen's Bay in St. Thomas, my brother and I had a great talk about following one's passion. This is the truth: I've been wasting my life at my job. All I do is Gchat with others who actually have work to do (in fields that some of them actually enjoy). It's a ridiculous way to spend my time. Some people envy me because I have no stress while on the job; believe me when I tell you, however, that I'd rather be stressed than bored. My brain is atrophying. Again.

He's voting for culinary school. It's something I've always tossed around, as many of you know. The FCI in New York has a 9-month part-time night program that I could attend while still "slaving away" at the HMO. It's a thought.

I return to New York tomorrow. It's been a really nice trip. More deets later.

the basics

This sums up my vacation:

I am drunk.

No, wait, I am hungover.

I am thirsty.

I am full.

I am tired.

I am hot.

That is all.

still flyin'

Despite Porkchop's predictions, I have not been spending my entire time on this cruise vacation in the Internet cafe. No, on the contrary, I have snorkeled, kayaked, danced, eaten, slept, been sunburned, swam, and on and on and on. This is my first trip on the Innerweb. For serious!

Seriously: it's actually been pretty nice. No fights with the family thus far.

My mom tore her ACL on the first night when my dashingly handsome cousin decided to dip her on the dance floor. She's been on crutches and in a wheelchair ever since. She's just about the strongest person I know; if I were in her situation, I'd become a recluse. She's instead been at the pool every day and still enjoying her nightly champagne.

I wrote a few of you postcards yesterday while drinking an afternoon Bloody Mary poolside. You'll receive it, I'm sure, within a month or two.

All in all, though: things are going very well. I wake up, go on some sort of excursion (tomorrow we are at sea and so I'll just relax by the pool, but Friday brings a clothing-optional beach!), sleep, endure the fact that my brother and I have to share a room, feel lucky that I have the most amazing brother, eat dinner with the 11 others in my party, miss my friends, dance, apply sunscreen, et al. I keep reminding myself that I will miss this when I return to Brooklyn.

Yesterday I went on a sailing and snorkeling trip in Aruba. On the way back from the snorkeling site, I lay down at the front of the ship, on my belly, rum punch in hand, and let the ocean splash over me. I ended up with a wicked sunburn on my back, but, Jesus, it was worth it.

If anyone wants to kayak the Hudson, I'm game.

Hope all of you are having a most pleasant week.

XOXO

ship shape

This cruise ship has not only a rock climbing wall but an ice skating rink.

Yeah, I know.

If my mother thinks I will accompany her to any Broadway-esque shows, she's got another thing coming!

My plan: drink at least one Bloody per day, read my books (this and this and Jesus, this still -- and yes, I should have picked more beach-y type reads or something about the Lusitania or something), kick ass at trivia night, run on the deck track daily, snorkel, sunbathe, take a spinning class, bicycle in Aruba, dance to the bad discotheque music, not gamble, not eat past 1:00 AM, kick my brother's ass at miniature golf, remember the sunscreen, talk to at least four strangers per day, not fight with the family, and not give two thoughts to anything else.

Bon voyage.

size six

I knew I really didn't want a bagel for breakfast but I left the house before eating anything. A bagel it would be. "Our toaster is broken," he said. "That's fine; I can toast it at the office."

Instead, I start a minor fire in the kitchen.

No bagel for me.

Breakfast was coffee.

Lunch would be a frozen meal, and while cheap and unsatisfying, I'm certainly not going to buy more food when I'm leaving for eight days.

I pull the hot meal out of the microwave, where it had been hanging out for exactly four minutes. My stomach is growling. I need sustenance. Coffee is not a sufficient breakfast.

It slips out of my hands and onto the floor. Upside-down.

No lunch for me.

Lunch is water.

The universe doesn't want me to eat today.

spice world

I was listening to the Clash and to Belle & Sebastian on the way to work this morning. I was still very tired, though I slept like a rock last night after dipping out early on the boys. (Boys, I am sorry. Fatigue doesn't even begin to describe what I was feeling. I <3 all o' y'all.)

I arrived at work to an email from a recruiter from the CDC asking me if I could interview today in Atlanta. This woman is obviously a genius.

I must return the following books to the library: "The Third Policeman" and "The Hero With a Thousand Faces", both of which remind me that I haven't felt geeky in a while.

I leave for the cruise on Saturday. I have mixed feelings about going on the trip, which I know makes me sound so terribly spoiled. Family vacations aren't necessarily the easiest for me, but I'll be trying to get some good Jen-time in while visiting the following locations:

Saturday, Sunday: San Juan, Puerto Rico
Tuesday: Oranjestad, Aruba
Wednesday: Willemstad, Curacao
Friday: Phillpsburg, St. Maarten
Saturday: Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas

I return to New York on Sunday, when I shall be tan as fuck.

I'm taking Monday the 30th off, as my new philosophy is that one should always have a recovery day after vacation. Always.

Fun times, hurry up and get here.

cracked out

I'm just a weeeeee bit tired today, but am a trooper and will push through. I must, you see, because tonight is The France: Part Two with Panna 2 dinner beforehand (I think; I hope). If you missed The France on Monday night, this is your chance to experience a serious mind zapp.

Oh, and if you haven't seen the Michel Gondry-directed Cibo Matto video for "Sugar Water", please do.

Oh, and if you haven't tried Coca-Cola Cherry Zero, please do.

These are just two of the things that have made me happy this morning.

snail mail

Yo, kids, I know some of you don't see the value in postcards, but I'm going on this Caribbean cruise 'n shit next week, and I'd like to send you one.

('Cause I wanna make you jealous of my international travels.)

If you'd like to be on the receiving end, (privately) send me your address.

star struck

My horoscope:

"It's not a laughing matter when someone criticizes you in a way that hurts your feelings, but remember that it may not be as intentional as it seems. It isn't always easy to hear the truth, especially when it's stated so matter-of-factly. Instead of hearing only the negative aspect of what's said, reframe it in a way that gives you somewhere positive to go with it."

I'm not loving life today.

In other news: um, you should start reading Cinematical. My friend Porkchop writes for it. He is a real blogger. If you like movies and/or you like Porkchop (which you should -- both of 'em), you will like Cinematical.

I give it two thumbs up! Freals!

vote for hope

I haven't thought about getting to the gym, the 2008 Presidential campaign candidates, serious job hunting, watching a television show on a regular basis, the NYT Sunday Styles section, baking cookies, listening to "Lost" podcasts, or updating my Netflix queue in I-don't-know-how-long.

Lately, all I think about is enjoying good times with friends, G'chatting all day, texting all night, and crunk jamz on the iPod.

This is, apparently, what 30 looks like.

every day is a wasted day

Nothing better than showing up at Union Hall and giving hugs to ten or twelve dudes in succession.

The France brought the house down tonight, folks. I scored myself a sassy lil' planet-print neck scarf. Thank you for playing "Ice Age"; I expect to hear "Coming Out Party" on Wednesday.

(And thanks, Scarny, for the bite of that jalapeno slider. Yummers!)

boy, i can't wait to blog about this weekend

Friday:

Back and forth with Scarny and Josh about the night's goings-on. Supposed to hit up the city and meet at Black & White at 10:30, perhaps? Scarny's at B-Side with a brew and a desire to hang. Let's do that. I train it to the EV and walk ever so slowly in my shoes that keep slipping off of my feet. I should have cabbed it, I know. Walk in and there's Scarny with a Peeb for me. Thank you, my friend.

Josh meets us, we play some G 'n R, some J & MC, and exit on Fugazi. Hit up Black & White. Ben from "Felicity" graciously allows me to cut in front of him in line for the bathroom. (Yes, it's the second time I've seen him. He's just as cute in real life.)

The Purse Drama of the Evening (that keeps rearing its ugly head): somehow the contents of my purse hit the ground while I'm away.

Josh, Scarny, and I stay a bit longer and the boys talk to girls; I text and make some calls. Scarny cabs it home and Josh and I hit up San Loco. (Note: if you want to wake up hangover-free, this is your place.) I have the cab drop me off a mile from my pad 'cause apparently I have no idea where I live. Get home around 4 AM. Barefoot and alive.

Saturday:

Awaken and decide it's the perfect day for a trip to the beach. Solo. Grab my camera and a towel and "Watchmen" (will I ever finish it?!) and make my way to Coney Island. The beer vendors yell, "Hey, don't sit there looking like a mannequin; get up and get yo'self an ice cold Heineken!"

Scarny calls. Apparently it's not the day for the Frog Parade after all! Oh no! He's on Smith Street in a striped shirt and jaunty beret! (Striped shirt, yes; beret, no.) I ditch the beach after sunning for a few hours and meet him at Bar Tabac,where he's befriended a Keanu Reeves look-alike and then head to GYC for pitchers. Josh meets us there. Justin-the-bartender hooks us up. (I like that guy.) The mist is a nice touch on a hot day. Alan is wearing a shirt with a strawberry print. (I like that guy, too.)

The three of us settle up and head to Porkchop and Colleen's amazing apartment for a housewarming party. Chips and salsa and the biggest olives ever are consumed. Wine is consumed. Cigarettes are smoked. KM arrives! (It feels like it's been years since I've seen you!) A good time is had by all. KM and I leave to meet Jendy and hit up my bro's show in the LES. I'm pouty on the cab ride. (Sorry, KM.) We arrive at the club, as do my parents, which is actually really fun and Mom feels like one of the girls. Before I know it, I'm dancing with Mom and buying her drinks and then, all of a sudden, I'm in a cab heading back towards the party.

Party winds down and we hit up Moonshine. I play pool. Quite poorly. Paul arrives, luggage in tow. I befriend Carol. It's getting late. Do I want to go to Splish Splash tomorrow? Um, of course.

Sunday:

We awaken, clean up, train it to the city, hit up Bed Bath & Beyond and Old Navy, and then join Brandon, Carol, and Porkchop in the Zip Car and weeeeee're off to Long Island! "Mr. Blue Sky" is played. "Got to Get You Into My Life" is played. Porkchop has the bitch seat.

We've finally made it! ("It's really happening!") We kick things off with a tram ride. Lines abound, yes, but we ultimately ride many a water attraction: Alien Invasion, Dragon's Den ("It's a funnel!"), the blue tube, the black one, and others. Carol and I cheer the boys getting their enemas on the Cliff Diver. We enjoy water theater, "One of you shall betray me" tattooed on a man's chest, and a dude sporting a blue goatee. We groan at the PDA. We eat popcorn chicken and nachos. Biggest highlight of 'em all, howevs: we see a beaver! Or a woodchuck! Or a big rat! (Long Island is, like, the country or some shit.)

The park closes. We are tired and wet and I am cold with chattering teeth. We find a diner and I eat a veggie burger with real veggies. The cole slaw is sweet. The soup is lukewarm. Garett figures out the check like a genius. We get caught in traffic. I have the bitch seat. Brandon is a skilled driver. We make it to the city by 11:15 PM. We all sincerely hug it out and go our separate ways.

I am tired.

I am exhausted.

The weekend to end all weekends?!

i'm two

Happy 2nd birthday, blog.

if you love me then i'll love you back

I found out about twenty minutes before I left work yesterday that Nick Cannon's "Wild 'N Out" was preventing me from seeing Fabrice Fabrice at the UCB Theatre. (As Amber Bear so keenly put it, "Why does MTV suck so much Nick Cannon cock?")

As noted below, I was bummed.

I walked the two miles home, ate tempeh and broccoli, and began a series of texts with Josh to plan the night's activities.

Me: "Beer?"

Josh: "Girls?"

Me: "Cerveza?"

Josh: "Girls!"

Me: "No girls."

Josh: "Beer?"

And on and on for two hours.

We eventually met up at Trout ("Trout?" "K" "30 mins?" "K") where Noreen was working and thus, got really hooked up with a couple of pitchers of Victory and much food for Josh (corn, pulled pork sandwich, cole slaw, pickle, watermelon, French fries). They played "Kiss You Back" by Digital Underground, which I hadn't heard since the tenth grade.

Walking to the train, we decided to hop into GYC for a moment. Apparently, so did the Department of Health. No more smoking at the GYC, folks -- or, rather, in 75% of the outdoor area. Who knew that a series of opened umbrellas constituted indoor seating? Not us and certainly not the GYC. (I do have some love for Bloomberg, but c'mon; taking the smoking outta the GYC is like taking the cheese outta quesadillas. Or something.)

Learned that Justin-the-bartender is a writer. ("Mostly literary and commercial.") Lives in Fort Greene. Fort Greene is so hot right now. Like Day Glo.

I had to pull myself away from Josh and Justin-the-bartender at 1:30 AM but not before being told that Josh was to have The Pass tonight. I have both Porkchop & Colleen's party and my brother's show tomorrow night; can I party three nights in a row?

I'm not as young as I used to be.

trout

2:06 AM Josh: justin wouldnt let me pay

2:07 AM me: what?
really?
wtf?
i just got home
i hate the train
2:08 AM and this dude was trying to talk to me
and i was gonna throw up on his face

2:09 AM Josh: gross
what did he say

me: i have no idea
i never listen to dudes like that
2:10 AM i need to not text anyone after midnight!
i think i texted, like, five people
ridic

Josh: yea pull the kill switch

me: freal
why isn't it friday?

2:12 AM Josh: its friday the 13th
go to sleep
im going to sleep

me: i must sleep
sleeeeeeeeeep

Josh: yea

me: talk to you soon

Josh: sleep
oeace
pace
peace

me: sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
p

empty

I am on my second large coffee of the day.

I am tired.

I am going to see Fabrice Fabrice tonight.

I am excited bummed.

Ummmm...

I got nothin' else.