A Little 500

This was my first year missing the Little 500, since I attended University. If you don't know what this bike race is about, get on your computer, go to Netflix, and order a copy of 'Breaking Away.' And, if you can't wait any longer, just know that it has been called 'The Greatest College Weekend." Even Obama has been to the race, my Junior year, to shake the female rider's hands. So, if you don't know what it is...you are obviously missing out.

That said, I was pretty sad when I had to be in NYC the Friday and Saturday of the races. However, another alum friend of mine found an event going on at a bar called Traffic. The bar is owned by an IU alum, and he had mock-AMFs, Hairy Bears, and Sink the Biz (all University-only drinks and traditions). We watched the men's race on Saturday there, played Sink the Biz with other alum, and reminisced about what it was like to go to school there.

If you don't go to school there, you will never totally understand the pride and traditions, and perhaps why missing this of all weekends was important for me. Evidence on the truth of this theory came when the waitress first arrived with my 'AMF' and my friend's 'Hairy Bear.'

Both of us in unison: That's not right.

Waitress: What?! Omg, I am so sorry. (begins to walk away)

Us: No, the drinks are fine. They're just normally this big (as we motion a 40 oz glass, instead of the 8 oz one in front of us)

Waitress: (still looking bewildered) Oh, ok.

I guess a lot of pride and tradition develops when you go to a school for alcoholics? Either way, we had a good time, and I hope to attend the event again one day...

The Epiphany

Nope, a light bulb did not go off in my head. Songs of 'Hallelujah' did not fill the air. And, no, there was no vision of a man or woman in white robes....

just an email in my inbox.

I read in the email that my room mates will not be re-signing their lease at the end of May. I wasn't shocked by that, but by the aching feeling in the pit of my stomach.

'Do I really want to leave?,' I felt like asking myself.

I began to get the bitter-sweet feeling of finally being free of the stress and anxiety, but also the realization that it is time to go. As has been the case many times in the past, I finally found a home when the time to leave had arrived. The impermanence of so many of my living situations since high-school summers should make me aware and even immune to such feelings, but instead each time hurts more than the previous.

It didn't hit me until I was on the phone with my mom.

Mom: So, you will be coming home the beginning of June?

Me: Yep...unless I...(cut short by)

Mom: Oh, that might be the best news I've heard all day.

Me: Oh, but...

Mom: We can talk about it more when you come home next weekend, but I could really use your help. I am so relieved, just hearing that you will be here to help me.

This is the first time my mom has asked anything more from me other than to try my best or make my bed. It wasn't long after when I received an email from my dad. His response was grave and stressed a large concern for the weight my mom is bearing trying to take care of my Grandmother.

To know I only have a month left here is terrifying. I don't have sudden urges to run to the Empire State Building, but instead I feel even more lost and alone. What now of the recent friends I have made? The venues I have finally begun frequenting? The salary (however small) that I have begun saving...ok, spending? And, more than anything else...no matter how selfish...What am I going home to? Is it that bad that my parents are requesting my help?

I tell myself over and over how much I've learned, experienced, developed, but I still feel like failure. Is leaving giving up? Why couldn't I make it in a city supposedly full of opportunity? And, if I have struggled and suffered so much here, will it be any better anywhere else? What if, like before, I am ignorant...and this is really bliss?

So, I will be returning south in nearly a month (excluding my planned trip there next weekend). I hope to help my parents, work part time, and hopefully exercise a lot(mostly to let off steam from living at home). My intent will be to set-up a time line, that ensures my own independence and freedom, while still living under their roof. I will more than likely attend the graduate program I have been accepted to in the fall, unless more extenuating circumstances arise.

I will miss my friends in New York, but have already heard a few of them mention possible expeditions westward, which will hopefully come true. If not, I will always have the year I lived in New York. I may not have found love, a job, or even a home, but I did find myself.

All Good Smiths:

Will Smith

Granny Smith

Smith and Wollensky

The Smithsonian

Smithereens

Aerosmith

Blacksmith

The Smiths

....ok, now that I've gotten that out of my system...

It began as a hellish work week. I was $200 short of a bonus the night of the gym anniversary party, and I should have rolled a sleeping bag out inside the dressing room instead of coming home to sleep. A full night's rest and errands accomplished I was ready for company (ok, minus the moment when I almost passed out and imagined falling off my bike, busting my head open, and watching the bikes tumble like dominos beside me during cycling class).

Kara arrived and we enjoyed catching up, for what seemed like hours. My room mates, who hadn't been seen in 5 days made a magical appearance, Kara hopefully appreciated. Their offers of drinks and cookie dough were another attest to their rambunctious and hospitable natures.

Eventually the two of us ventured out into the night for dinner. We ate at The Smith, one of my favorite restaurants on the East side. It's a quintessential New York restaurant with black and white tile floors and pictures flanking the walls. We split a carafe of Shiraz, goat cheese ravioli, and of course....a burger! It was delicioux!

Spontaneous Thursday

I've come to realize that this blog is merely a way for me to keep track of all the decent, and sometimes extremely indecent experiences I've had. Trying to explain my day-to-day activities would be boring, now that I am no longer working for a maniac, so instead I have resorted to telling you all about the one night I go out a week. Thus the following story:

I have become friendly with a girl named Michele, who like me is from the south and moved to New York hoping to find more than just a job at a gym. Whenever we are working at the same time and business is slow we get on the company phone to bitch about corporate, or a member who wanted 'help' in the dressing room (if you know what I mean). When we found out neither one of us was working Thursday night, we decided to get a drink together. I can't help but want to get to know people better, even if my time here is coming to an end.

We ended up at a Mexican restaurant I've passed a billion times. The food was alright, but our margaritas were better. With a slight buzz, we opted to stroll down to the LES for another drink and possibly some music. I remembered that it was the grand opening for another stage at Rockwood Music Hall, where I had been the week before. Well, I guess we didn't know how big of a deal it would be, because when we got there we joined a line at the end of the block. I would have happily left, but Michele seemed at ease. Neither one of us had anywhere to be, and it seemed pretty cool to be at the first of something in New York.

During our wait in line a dreamy boy was standing behind us. However, a quick glance at his hand showed a silver ring on his fourth finger, left hand. Yes, I have to check for these now. Does this always mean a guy is married? Could someone clear this up for me, please? He was totally flirting, which if he was married would have made me feel gross. But, that ring and my overall shyness are what kept me from offering him my number. Another odd thing about this guy, and several of the people standing around us....THEY ALL KNEW EACHOTHER. It wasn't until we were leaving that I figured it out....they are all probably in bands that play at the other part of the venue. duh!

After an hour and some in line, because we were gabbing and didn't even realize; we made it in. That also wasn't without a little flirting with the bouncer, who seemed to think my fiesty nature may get me in 'trouble.' Once inside we got to listen to Zach Williams sing for an hour or so. I had a blue moon and listened to some pretty great music, while keeping my eye on the cutie who hadn't strayed too far from us. Michele didn't know what to do with her pint glass, since it was so crowded we couldn't move and ended up shoving it in her purse. At the train station she handed it to me, and I am now the proud owner of a $7.50 pint glass from the grand opening of Rockwood Music Hall's Stage 2.

After, I went home full of happiness, beer, and a new glass. I realized...at times like these it seems like music, booze, and boys are all I will ever need to be happy, maybe not successful...but happy.

I Think I'll Go For A Walk Outside Now. The Summer Sun's Callin' My Name. I Hear Ya Now!

I was upset at first that my college friend who was coming to visit had to cancel her trip for this weekend. Instead, I made the most of my extra time and started the weekend off with a training session...probably not one of my best decisions.

I've been popping Advil since about two hours after and can still barely walk, straighten my arms, or get up and down from chairs or stairs, without the much needed help of banisters and arm rests.

I spent Friday night playing the younger sister to my room mate, who was cleaning out her closet and laughing at my gimpy-ness. Saturday morning I got up bright and early for a brunch with two other New Orleanian transports in NYC. We ate at Prune, a lower-east-side, brunch, hot spot. I enjoyed a fried oyster omelet...gluttony at it's finest.

Attempting to walk (although I resembled more of a post-horseback rider) we spent the rest of the beautiful, cool afternoon looking for furniture and attending the Brooklyn Flea's first day of the outdoor market in Fort Greene. I came home for a brief relaxation period before going out on the town.

Saturday night I met up with the other intern, who I've remained in touch with and her friend. We had a drink at Arlene's Grocery, walked over to Stanton Public for another, and then they left me at Rockwood Music Hall (all on the LES). I stayed in the tiny, crowded, venue for the Casey Shea Band. I was alone, a little drunk, and totally enjoying myself!

After the band I had a bit o' trouble getting a cab...which resulted in a 30 block walk home! I was not the only one having difficulty getting a cab, which I found out later was a result of the lack of trains running uptown. The difference between me and everyone else on the street is that a man on a bike, riding by me, actually grabbed my ass!...And, lucky me, had two underage boys rapping to me during the last 5 blocks home. Not the happiest end to the evening.

After waking up a bit hungover and spending some time at Madison Square park, I hopped on the train to Flat Bush in Brooklyn. I went to meet a college friend who is attending grad school out there. We ate some Thai, caught up on each other's lives, and talked about music/ philosophy for a few hours.

Exhausted and extremely sore I'm spending the next few days getting caught up on life, before what will hopefully be another weekend of sun:)

I just can't stay inside all day! I got get out, get me some of those rays!

Wisdom....That Still Hasn't Arrived

I'm 23, going on 24, and my wisdom teeth still haven't arrived. It explains a lot about my maturity level...and, my general progression in life, last. In Mary Poppins they laugh so hard they float to the ceiling. The following videos prove the same thing happens when you have dental surgery. Enjoy!

What's with the unicorns?

http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1931876

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vyR2KNNsxCc&feature=related

The all time classic:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=txqiwrbYGrs&feature=related

Dirty Harry

Not to overshadow the last post, but the last ten minutes of my shift at work tonight were pretty crazy...

There is a middle aged, dirty, and smelly (probably homeless) man who comes into the shop on a regular basis. We have kicked him out countless times. Each time he walks in he does the same thing:

Grabs 3 pairs of shorts and heads straight to the dressing room.

Where, we have caught him charging his phone, eating, sitting, and even...

standing naked in front of the mirror (with the dressing room curtain open, of course). He often leaves the store smelling like a combination of urine and smelly feet, with expired peanut butter mixed in.

How does he get in?! You may ask. While you have to walk through the gym doors to enter the shop, you do not have to be a member to shop there. Thus, we get everyone and everything off the street.

Although we have had him kicked out countless times he continues to return. Recently, he was caught showering in the men's locker room, causing them to have to throw out towels and who knows what else?!

Tonight was no different...wait, I take that back.

He came in about fifteen minutes before closing. When he entered another customer was there, and it was too late for me to send him away. He proceeded with his usual hastiness at grabbing 3 pairs of shorts.

And, then he stopped.

Turned to me, just enough for me to see his front.

He had on his usual dirty, smelly, stained khaki pants and jacket, but this time the jacket was adjusted just enough out of the way for me to make out, what I am almost positive was a gun handle. There are no cameras in the shop, so we will never really know.

'Are you closing yet?' he asked in a kind of perverse way, as if to say 'Don't you dare say no.'

He headed for the dressing room. I motioned for a front desk person, but there was only one there, and she was on the phone with a member. The lobby was empty, and the new guy at the juice bar can't leave his station either. I emailed my MOD hoping 'The crazy, smelly man is back...and I'm almost positive he has a gun!,' were not my last words.

[Obviously they were not since I am writing this post.]

Instead, I did the procedure we are told to do to keep people from stealing. I figured it may work here, too. I harassed him with enough 'customer service' questions that he was so annoyed he didn't stay long. Thank goodness!

After discussing it with my boss, we decided he must know the managers all leave before the gym actually closes, so he would be safe to come in without getting kicked out. Tomorrow I'm working on getting the cops involved if he shows up again, and I guarantee he'd rather have my managers kick him out, than get arrested.

I got the hell out of there when my shift was over! Who ever thought working at a five-star gym till 9 PM would produce encounters with homeless men and weapons? I always thought that was the grave yard shift at the Seven Eleven.

The 'Best Ofs' NYC

While New York hasn't been the most welcoming city, I have been lucky enough to have a few friends willing to share their secrets. One such friend is Josephine.

We met when I moved into our minuscule NYU apartment, the summer of my Junior year. At the time I was interning 4 days a week and exploring New York every other day. She was a student, working as part of the freshmen initiation programs. She is from the same area as my ex (boyfriend at the time), and we had an immediate connection. After 2 weeks she was moved to another dorm where the freshmen would be, but we managed to remain in touch. We started weekly Sunday brunches as an excuse to get together, try new restaurants, and stay in touch.

We stayed in touch throughout our Senior years, and when I got back last September, we began our brunch traditions again. We rarely try new places anymore, but we like to rotate, so we never tire of a menu or neighborhood. Our conversations often include boy friends, ex-boyfriends, good books, puppies, and the occasional political discussion, complimented by french fries, sugary treats, coffee, and tea.

Today was no exception. We ate at Mission Cafe, a San Fran inspired cafe in the East Village, and then wandered over to Washington Square Park. We continued to wander our way through the West Village, all the way to the river, wind our way back East again, and stop for gelato along the way. It was the kind of day I remember having in Europe...

What I owe to Josephine is her incredible knowledge of the city. While I can wander around for hours on my own, I do not know all of the local venues, best cheap eats, or directions. She is always full of fantastic suggestions and knows where to find everything! In a city this big, I'm not sure what I would do without such a fantastic tour guide and friend. Even if I do have to leave in May or June, I'm almost positive my Sunday brunches will be what I miss most.

Best Of NYC (with Josephine):

Brunch: Penelope, Friend of a Farmer, and Mission Cafe

Shopping: Made Well, Buffalo Exchange, and Beacon's Closet

Activities: Tea Time at Podunk or Alice's Teacup,

Central Park, Washington Sq. Park, Hudson River Park,

and movies

Company: a good friend, or at the very least someone with a decent sense of humor