Go Do Something!
I work from 7am-5pm Monday-Friday. That's 50 hours (in NYC time, so it's really more), and I am constantly exhausted. Usually after work I go directly home, immediately put on sweatpants, promptly turn on NBC Nightly News, and veg for the remainder of night. Friday nights are no exception. Usually I'm perfectly content being a total city sloth, but every once and a while I take a good, long look at myself in my mirror and see the bookmark that I have taped to the bottom that says, "YOU ARE HERE."
My mirror, mirror on the walls screams at me: WAKE UP. YOU LIVE IN NEW YORK EFFIN' CITY. GET OUT OF YOUR APARTMENT AND GO DO SOMETHING.
So this week, in spite of real January temps, I did just that. I woke up, got out of my apartment, and did something.
Here's what I did:
On Wednesday, roomie HK and I ventured out into the neighborhood to a new cafe/bar on 125th street. HK knows the woman who runs it, and since Wednesday nights are jazz nights, we decided to check it out. The place was almost completely empty, but we got great front row seats to watch the four-piece jazz group do their thang in front of a glass window with the Projects in the background. I wanted to take a picture of the band, but I didn't want to lose all street cred (I have so little to begin with...). HK and I drank Stellas and I met some more of HK's friends/coworkers. It was a nice change of scenery, and a wonderful mid-week roomie-date.
On Thursday, DH and I met up in SOHO, ate 2 Boots pizza, and went to a Moth Story Slam. I think I've blogged before about the Moth podcast (because I'm SO OBSESSED), but this was the first time that I had ever gone to a live story slam event. It's basically just like a poetry slam, except instead of reciting poetry, story-tellers stand up and have 5 minutes to tell true stories about their lives. There are 10 stories in total, and the winners of the story slam go on to a Grand Slam where stories are recorded for the podcast. It was SO freakin' awesome. I have been listening to the podcast for a couple of years, but I sort of thought that it was a little story thing that no one else really knew about or followed. And I was so wrong. When DH and I got to the bookstore where the event was being held, we were 30 minutes early and already at the end of a block long line. There were so many other Moth-lovers! It was like I was a part of a club that I never knew was a club! Luckily, DH and I eventually made it inside, bought PBR's and got cozy on a empty spot on the bookstore floor. The next hour and a half was like magic. I laughed. I cried. I started thinking about my own stories, and if I would ever have enough courage to stand up and tell them to an audience of strangers. The jury is still out on whether I'd participate in the story slam myself, but I will definitely be going to more slams as a story listener. Let me know if you want to come with!
On Friday, I came home and did the whole sweatpants, NBC Nightly News thing, but cut me some slack!
On Saturday, I worked from 1-8 but afterward I stopped over at TB's apartment where we ate popcorn and watched the Matt Damon movie, We Bought a Zoo. I cried. We called the bodega on the corner and had a root beer and quart of Ben and Jerry's DELIVERED to our door. You can do that! I had no idea! I love this city. I grabbed a cab home since I had a week's pay in cash in my pocket, and took this pic as turned on 125th street.
On Sunday, I donated my clothes to my church thrift store (plus one God point), then denied a beggar asking for change as I walked up the stairs to my church (minus two God points). I prayed really hard and was very focused in the beginning of mass (plus one God point?), but then I continuously forgot about the missal changes and said the wrong response over and over again, each time silently cussing in my mind because I kept forgetting! (minus many, many God points). (note: Sorry, this part only makes sense to you if you're Catholic..) Anyway, I'm not sure how the math all worked out in the end, but I'll keep those Hail Mary's going just in case. After mass I met KS for a coffee/writing/studying session in the village where we FROZE causing me to drink my latte in record speed. We had lunch at the Grey Dog after, and I had the best grilled cheese. KS and I had some temporary memory block regarding the ever-so important name of a random basketball player from high school, and when I finally remembered (two conversations later), I shouted out his name and let's just say, there were some looks. You had to have been there.
All in all, I'm feeling pretty good about kicking myself out of my apartment this week. No plans yet for next week, but I'm sure Brian Williams and my sweats will be getting some much needed attention.
 |
| I promised to NEVER be a girl who takes pictures of herself in her mirror, and then I did this. But it's ok; I'm just being ironic. |
My mirror, mirror on the walls screams at me: WAKE UP. YOU LIVE IN NEW YORK EFFIN' CITY. GET OUT OF YOUR APARTMENT AND GO DO SOMETHING.
So this week, in spite of real January temps, I did just that. I woke up, got out of my apartment, and did something.
Here's what I did:
On Wednesday, roomie HK and I ventured out into the neighborhood to a new cafe/bar on 125th street. HK knows the woman who runs it, and since Wednesday nights are jazz nights, we decided to check it out. The place was almost completely empty, but we got great front row seats to watch the four-piece jazz group do their thang in front of a glass window with the Projects in the background. I wanted to take a picture of the band, but I didn't want to lose all street cred (I have so little to begin with...). HK and I drank Stellas and I met some more of HK's friends/coworkers. It was a nice change of scenery, and a wonderful mid-week roomie-date.
 |
| We still need a less fuzzy photo for our apt! |
On Thursday, DH and I met up in SOHO, ate 2 Boots pizza, and went to a Moth Story Slam. I think I've blogged before about the Moth podcast (because I'm SO OBSESSED), but this was the first time that I had ever gone to a live story slam event. It's basically just like a poetry slam, except instead of reciting poetry, story-tellers stand up and have 5 minutes to tell true stories about their lives. There are 10 stories in total, and the winners of the story slam go on to a Grand Slam where stories are recorded for the podcast. It was SO freakin' awesome. I have been listening to the podcast for a couple of years, but I sort of thought that it was a little story thing that no one else really knew about or followed. And I was so wrong. When DH and I got to the bookstore where the event was being held, we were 30 minutes early and already at the end of a block long line. There were so many other Moth-lovers! It was like I was a part of a club that I never knew was a club! Luckily, DH and I eventually made it inside, bought PBR's and got cozy on a empty spot on the bookstore floor. The next hour and a half was like magic. I laughed. I cried. I started thinking about my own stories, and if I would ever have enough courage to stand up and tell them to an audience of strangers. The jury is still out on whether I'd participate in the story slam myself, but I will definitely be going to more slams as a story listener. Let me know if you want to come with!
 |
| Doesn't this look so magical?! |
On Friday, I came home and did the whole sweatpants, NBC Nightly News thing, but cut me some slack!
On Saturday, I worked from 1-8 but afterward I stopped over at TB's apartment where we ate popcorn and watched the Matt Damon movie, We Bought a Zoo. I cried. We called the bodega on the corner and had a root beer and quart of Ben and Jerry's DELIVERED to our door. You can do that! I had no idea! I love this city. I grabbed a cab home since I had a week's pay in cash in my pocket, and took this pic as turned on 125th street.
 |
| The Heart of Harlem |
On Sunday, I donated my clothes to my church thrift store (plus one God point), then denied a beggar asking for change as I walked up the stairs to my church (minus two God points). I prayed really hard and was very focused in the beginning of mass (plus one God point?), but then I continuously forgot about the missal changes and said the wrong response over and over again, each time silently cussing in my mind because I kept forgetting! (minus many, many God points). (note: Sorry, this part only makes sense to you if you're Catholic..) Anyway, I'm not sure how the math all worked out in the end, but I'll keep those Hail Mary's going just in case. After mass I met KS for a coffee/writing/studying session in the village where we FROZE causing me to drink my latte in record speed. We had lunch at the Grey Dog after, and I had the best grilled cheese. KS and I had some temporary memory block regarding the ever-so important name of a random basketball player from high school, and when I finally remembered (two conversations later), I shouted out his name and let's just say, there were some looks. You had to have been there.
 |
| His last name is Glaesman. We couldn't find him on facebook. |
All in all, I'm feeling pretty good about kicking myself out of my apartment this week. No plans yet for next week, but I'm sure Brian Williams and my sweats will be getting some much needed attention.
"You are here."
ReplyDeleteI love you.