Cat Lovers Beware

It's only day two and my third roommate is really beginning to get on my nerves. She's nosey and sneaky and frankly a little creepy. I get the distinct feeling that she's plotting to kill me Stewie-style. She stares at me while I eat. She lurks in the hall outside my bedroom waiting to sneak into my closet and rub her face on all of my clothes. Whitney says it's because she likes me. This is the same type of lie that parents tell their children when they are being made fun of at school.

However, this time, I'm much bigger than her.

Oh, and she has three legs.

Dad: This One's For You

Why I think Whitney is going to make an excellent roommate...

Scene -- Whitney and I are unpacking boxes in our new kitchen.

Me: Oh, you have Tony's.

Whitney: Yeah, my mom sends it to me. It's hard to find up here.

Me: Tony's is a staple in my family.

Whitney: Mine too. It's good on everything!

A Whole Lot of Nothing

It's been a garden-variety kind of week. No travel or parties or culturally eye-opening experiences. I'm finally getting my retainer fixed this afternoon and I must, must do laundry after work. I miss my washer and dryer. Laundromats are kind of dismal places. You're held captive in a small room permiated with the nose-stinging scent of dryer sheets and surrounded by baskets of strangers' dingy undergarments. Stuck in laundry purgatory, you stand guard for clothes theives while hypnotized by your belongings swirling around in a machine that, only moments before, may have been occupied by, well, grossness (no need to elaborate). There's another popular and not too expensive option -- the drop and wash. However, I haven't quite come to terms with a stranger washing and folding my underwear yet. Just wait until mid-February when it's too cold to move my big toe and then maybe my story will change.

Lots of fun is to be had this weekend. Andrea has offered in exchange for my participation in a Petsmart-run (it's in a sketchy part of NJ that one would not want to travel to alone) to take me to IKEA to buy a dresser. Afterward, Andrea, Sarah and some of our other Hoboken-friends are going out to celebrate my "moving-away." I tell them everyday that I owe them my first born child for everything they've done for me over the last few months. No, seriously.

I'm so excited about Sunday I can't even write about it. It feels like one of those things that if I talk about it too much it might somehow go away. So, the plan is to just play it cool until I turn my key and do a victory dance in the middle of my own furniture-less apartment. Only two more days!!!!

Ups and Downs

Up: I unintentionally cut off my hair. Well, not me personally -- the renegade stylist did. The jury is still out whether I love it or not, but hair cuts are always fun. I'm sure it will grow on me (har-har).

Down: My permanent retainer broke. It is a painful reminder of the brace-face-ache of childhood. However, the impossiblity of scheduling an orthodontist appointment and the dental insurance hassle have shoved me back into adulthood. Me: "Ack! I have a loose piece of metal in my mouth that is shredding my tongue and gums." Receptionist: "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. The doctor will be able to see you in about two weeks." Sigh.

Up: I ended my lame rental car streak! Goodbye, Lumina/Cobalt/Taurus. Hello, Mustang.

Down: Friends that don't act like friends.

Up: Despite her insanely busy schedule, Becks has called me almost every night this week just to talk about nothing.

Down: The agency arranged for a car service to pick me up from the airport after my trip to AC. I never thought I would see a limo driver at the airport holding a sign with my name on it! As I approach Maris, the driver, he looked surprised. Maris: "Oh. I thought Leslie was a man's name." Me: "Oh. That's funny. I thought Maris was a woman's name." Ok, I didn't really say that, but seriously...

Sunshine

It was one of those idyllic days that pries you from the couch and shoves you out your front door. A jog, a haircut, and a few errands later, I was sitting on a park bench beside Brooklyn's Prospect Lake. I struggled to focus on a somewhat forgetable novel (one of those that you refuse to give up on, but 300 pages in, has little hope for recovery). Distraction -- a state of mind that I've been unable to escape for quite a while. Maybe it was the perfect temperature or the unbelievably clear sky, but here it is...

I'm not going to get all pit preacher on you and claim to know exactly what God likes or wants, but if I had to take a guess, I think living a life of purpose and meaning qualifies as serving God in a positive way. Relationships between people matter. This idea I'm comfortable with -- it's the details I haven't quite figured out. I know my stint in NYC is not forever. And, I hope that uprooting my life will do more than empty my bank account. Instead, I hope it brings a change of focus from "ambition" to "contribution." "Making a difference?" Barf. Growing up. Perhaps. And, to begin to really believe that a smile, a kind word, and some compassion toward your neighbor makes waves, and you're actually helping to save the world from itself.

Amen.

Just Another Day

1) This has been on display on the sidewalk outside my office all week:



It took me several days to realize that it is carefully located in front of the ABC headquarters. Those WGA unioners are intense.

2) I was invited to a green jello burlesque show -- and warned not to sit in the first three rows.

3) Vegetarian duck is gross. Trust me -- it kind of tastes like wet paper towels.

4) I think my real estate agent is in the mob.

5) Saturday is the 7th annual No Pants Subway Ride. Not that anyone makes eye contact anyways... (Side Note: No, I wasn't taking pictures on the subway. I stole it from the official No Pants Subway Ride Web site, haha.)



6) I'm being forced into participating in a psoriasis photo shoot tomorrow. The excuse "I don't have psoriasis" did not work.

7) The coffee shop downstairs gives away coffee if you're wearing orange. Word.

A Roof Over My Head And A Hot Meal

After a really tough week, I had quite the weekend. Apparently all I needed was a roof over my head and hot meal to change my outlook.

On Saturday morning, I met Whitney in Brooklyn for another string of apartment appointments. The first two apartments were a bit disastrous. Low ceilings. Filthy. Very small. The third place was even more ruinous. A peculiar smell coming from the downstair's dry cleaners permiated the walls. The floors were at a 30 degree angle (no exaggeration). The front door didn't even open all the way because it bumped into the oven. The fourth place however...

...will be my new home in T minus 23 days!! I don't have a pic of the place, but here's one that's pretty close.



The apartment is on the first floor of a three-unit building. The owners completely remodeled the place a couple of years ago. They tore down the wall that divided the family and dining room to create a huge living space. It has wood floors, new appliances, and tons of storage. The gem of an apartment had just gone on the market that morning. I think I was finally being handed some apartment luck.

It's in a neighborhood called Kensington. It's smashed between Park Slope (a very expensive, trendy neighborhood -- also the location of Ted's apartment on HIMYM) and Prospect Park (Brooklyn's version of Central Park). Kensington is mostly residential with lots of brick rowhouses, Victorians, and "pre-war" (I'm still not sure which war) co-ops.

I may not have any furniture, but I have a place to live and I've never been happier.

This weekend was also Stephanie's birthday celebration. Saturday night, I met her and a few friends at a restaurant called Sapa. Here's a picture from inside the restaurant.



The food was really good, but the bathrooms were the highlight -- it even had a meditation pool. I'm not sure why one would want to meditate in a bathroom, but cool nonetheless. I think I saw Hilary Duff eating with her boyfriend too. Afterward, we went out for a drink. One of Steph's college friends had reserved a room in a bar called Sin Sin. We were officially on "the list." The bouncer even let us in through a back door -- fancy, fancy. We had a great time and Steph had a very happy birthday (see evidence below).



I spent the rest of the weekend watching Law and Order reruns on Sarah's couch -- thankful that I have such great friends and happy that I will soon no longer have to mooch off them.

Revolutions

I was mulling over this time last year and how clueless I was that 2007 was going to be such a transformative kind of 365. I had no idea (well, maybe a little) that I was facing a huge year of changes and craziness and things would make me feel like I had been socked in the gut. Things that left me breathless -- limping away from a broken relationship and making this conscious choice to have an adventure and do something terrifying.

This year, standing at the edge, I'm feeling a little sentimental and a little apprehensive, knowing exactly how crazy my life is going to be, and feeling very aware that I'm doing it to myself -- that every single one of these things about to happen is the direct result of a choice or choices I have made. I'm heading toward something at right angles from me, and it is good. New beginnings have always given me hope -- but so have even numbers (that's an entirely different story).

Well, anyway. Happy new year to everyone. Cheers!

My Big Fat Greek Adventure

After work yesterday, I ventured to Astoria to look at apartments. The realtor (and her two kids) picked me up at the train station around 7:30. She is this large (in stature and personality) woman with a great New York accent and lots of Greek charm. Her driving skills were questionable -- she drove 10 blocks with her flashers on while flipping through her listings book and talking on her cell phone (all at the same time). Her parenting was unorthodox -- her kids call her by her first name and the daughter is apparently an ex-Disney Channel star. But, this woman held the keys to the best apartments I had seen in the city yet.

The first was the first floor of a three unit brownstone. Nice place -- but I wanted to tell the landlord that just because the living room has a door does not make it a bedroom. Oh, and the bathroom was VERY pink. Pink toilet. Pink sink. Pink shower. The second place was my favorite. It was a fully renovated unit in a large building. It had wood and tile floors, new appliances, a renovated bathroom, and was in a rent controlled building. "Just beautiful" -- as the realtor kept saying. The last was the most amusing. Like the first, the landlord lived in the building -- which could mean quick repairs. However, he did not speak a word of English -- which could mean very slow repairs. He showed me around the apartment describing every inch in the fastest Italian I've ever heard. His daughter-in-law, dressed in only a bathrobe, was running around the apartment after her two-year-old. His son is yelling to his dad that I don't understand Italian. Meanwhile, the two-year-old has death-gripped my finger and is taking me on a tour of his toys. Beneath the chaos, the apartment was really nice -- too small for Whitney and I, but nice nonetheless.

Whitney is going by to see the second apartment this morning. Keep your fingers crossed for us!

Toula Portokalos: I woke up with this huge zit this morning.
Ian Miller: Where?
Toula Portokalos: [points to spot on face] There.
Ian Miller: I had a huge zit this morning!
Toula Portokalos: Really? Where?
Ian Miller: [points to his face] Well, it was there, but it's gone now.
Toula Portokalos: Why?
Ian Miller: I put some Windex on it.