R was just in our bay and conversation turned to Karate Kid. R said "Yeah, and Hillary Swank was in Karate Kid 3."
Bench Buddy and I quickly jumped on him and said "No! That was The Next Karate Kid. Karate Kid 3 was a different movie entirely."
R looked at us in horror. Had he possibly missed a Karate Kid? Bench Buddy quickly and impressively recounted the entire plot of Karate Kid 3.
R said "The craziest thing is that Pat Morita was in it."
I said "Why is that crazy?"
Bench Buddy said "What else would Pat Morita be in?"
I said "A Happy Days movie? That would rule."
R, instantly consumed by venom, said "No movie of a TV show should ever be made ever again!"
Bench Buddy, without missing a beat said, "Yeah, but what would think of a Saved By The Bell movie?"
R lit up and said "Yeah, I guess that would be awesome."
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I was on the train this morning and there was an ad for the Bronx Zoo, and the ad said something like "Now your kids can ride giant bugs!" and showed a little girl riding a giant grasshopper on a carousel.
I am totally freaked out.
More like "Now your kids can get really freaked out by gigantic hideous bugs!"
Seriously. I can't think of anything more horrifying.
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I still have a pet peeve about people who press elevator buttons after they've clearly already been pressed.
What is more annoying is when like 20 people are in the lobby waiting for an elevator and somebody comes and thinks that if they press the button 100 times really quickly and with anger that they will be able to summon the elevator in a way that nobody else could.
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I had karaoke dreams last night. Sigh. I dreamt about Sid from Sid Karaoke. I need to do karaoke soon. Maybe when I am in Boston....
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It's Friday. I am so happy. This weekend is going to rule. I am free this weekend of visitors and boyfriend, so I will see galleries and go to the Comic Con to see Aerosith and watch movies and clean my apartment in anticipation of visitors and get lots of sleep. Tonight I will drink on Bench Buddy's roof, looking cute with new purple glasses with pink rhinestones, after checking out the Mr. T exhibit.
Have a nice weekend!
Friday, June 17, 2005
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Do Not Eat at the Tick Tock Diner
Please. Do not eat there.
D and I intended to meet D's friend M at a diner last night prior to seeing Batman Begins.
D said "Yeah, you know, I'm getting there at 6:00. M's getting there whenever, so, you know, just get there whenever."
D called at 6:00 and said "Don't go to that diner. There's filming going on and it doesn't look like they have a bar. I'm going to walk around and find somewhere else to eat."
I left work at about 6:15 and went home to grab my hoodie, since it was winter yesterday. I called D who said "We're at the Tick Tock Diner, on the northwest side of 34th and 8th."
Word.
By the time I arrived, D and M had already had drinks and inhaled mozzeralla sticks.
I looked at the menu and decided what I wanted. Fifteen minutes passed and still no waiter. I was getting slightly concerned because I wanted good seats for Batman.
The waiter finally appeared and said "Can I get you anything else?"
We were like "Well, we'd like to order our dinner."
"Oh, right."
"I'd like the Santa Fe omelette," I said, and was met with a look indicating that suddenly I had seven heads.
"The Santa Fe omelette?" I repeated.
Still a blank stare.
I pointed to it on the menu. He shook his head in disbelief and wrote it down. He then said "What toast would you like?"
"What kind do you have?"
"Toast."
"Yeah, but what do you have?"
"All kinds of toast," very judgmentally.
"OK. Well, do you have raisin?"
"No."
"What do you have?"
"You know, toast."
"What kinds do you have?"
All confused "White? Rye?"
"I'll just have white."
Fine.
The food didn't come for a while and we started to get concerned again.
The waiter reappeared and said "Oh, I lost your order. I just don't know where it is. Can you give it to me again?"
We re-ordered.
The food still did not come, nor did our drinks.
He reappeared and said "It's coming soon..." and we said "Um, could we have the waters? And the beer? And could I get some silverware?"
Nothing appeared.
Finally the food came. No beverages. No silverware.
I said "Our beverages? And silverware?"
The beverages came out about 5 minutes later, and still no silverware.
I asked the lady in the booth next to us if I could have her extra set of silverware.
Finally we were able to eat!
The food wasn't bad. We were sitting at a really small booth so I had my toast sort of on the edge of the table with my knife hanging over the edge of the plate. A waitress blew by frantically and knocked the knife off of the plate, into the air, it bounced off of my shirt and then my pants and finally onto the floor.
She got all huffy, as though it was my fault, picked up the knife and stormed off. She didn't apologize, nor did she return with a replacement knife.
Terrible experience all around, and late to Batman Begins.
We ended up having to sit in the second row of a theater with a huge screen. I wasn't too upset about it, as I'd seen Spiderman under similar circumstances and rather enjoyed being that close to the action.
We ended up, however, having to sit in front of some woman who had her three year old daughter with her. First of all - who brings a three year old to see Batman Begins? Second of all - who brings a three year old to see a 9:00 showing of Batman Begins? Third of all - yeah. Needless to say the kid was screaming and making horrified and amused noises throughout the entire movie. Very annoying.
Also annoying was the fact that many people decided that it would be acceptable to talk throughout the movie. There was a huge thug factor at this movie, and I was convinced that a knife fight or shooting would break out. An argument erupted somewhere in the stadium seating about 15 minutes into the movie. Two groups of people literally screaming at each other. What was the fight about? No idea. Probably "Yo, assholes, stop talking" and then "I can do whatever I want!" and then "Shut the fuck up!" A lot of people left entirely, some people switched seats. Mostly people were just screaming and murmering and getting out of hand. I don't know how it was resolved, but the first half hour of the movie is basically lost to me.
Also annoying was the fact that the movie theater was 3 degrees. I had my hoodie zipped all the way and the hood on and then pulled it up over my face and was still shivering the entire time.
Also annoying was the fact that I have been sick. Well, I don't know if I am sick but something has been awry for the past few days, starting with Tuesday when I took a three hour nap in the middle of the day. I have been exhausted, but not like flu exhausted. Like weird internal exhaustion, and today I am exhausted and am sometimes having a fever and sometimes my hands are shaking to the point that I can't label tubes. Weird. I averaged at least one yawn a minute during the movie, and nearly fell asleep a couple of times.
This all being said and having seen this movie under duress, my opinion is: FUCKING AWESOME AMAZING WOW BLAM POW PERFECT!
My thoughts:
1. Christian Bale - best Batman thus far. He was amazing. He played it believably dark and smartly.
2. Katie Holmes - not nearly as annoying as I'd feared. (On a similar note, I saw the preview for Dukes of Hazard and I feel really bad about it, because I think that the casting of Jessica Simpson is goint to prevent anyone from seeing it. Her annoyingness quotient far exceeds the coolness factor of the rest of the movie).
3. Gary Oldman - he somehow managed to not be creepy! Who knew that was even possible? He is endearing and wholesome as the future Commissioner Gordon.
4. Michael Caine as Alfred - ADORABLE. We had to fill out an audience survey and you had to pick your favorite character, and I went with Michael Caine. He is so cute and wonderful in this movie.
5. Cillian Murphy - WOW. He is going to be a huge star. I fell in love with him in 28 Days Later. I had a hard time choosing between him and Michael Caine as my favorite character. He is beautiful. There's something enchanting about his face. He's pretty. And an amazing actor.
6. Morgan Freeman - yeah. Of course he was wonderful. He always is. He is a national treasure. The most exciting thing about Morgan Freeman in this movie is that he is a scientist! He was throwing around "receptor" and other terminology. D became spastic at one point, punched me and said "That's a gas chromatograph (or something to that effect - I don't know anything about chemistry)!" Morgan Freeman was all "I analyzed your blood and receptor content and catalyst and blah blah blah - it was difficult" but then managed to develop an antedote to the chemical in the same day. I love movie science.
7. Other cast members such as Tom Wilkinson, Liam Neeson, Ken Watanabe - all awesome.
8. The strength of this movie is the characters. Everyone is perfect. I can't stop gushing about this movie. I am still high from it.
9. The fight scenes at the beginning between Liam Neeson and Christian Bale are quick and gorgeous.
10. My only complaint might be Gotham itself - it was a little too CGI and shiny.
11. Thematically it was intense - fear and guilt and duty etc. It was tortured without being cheesy.
12. Script - perfect.
Yeah. I could go on and on. Net: I loved it and you must all see it.
That is all.
D and I intended to meet D's friend M at a diner last night prior to seeing Batman Begins.
D said "Yeah, you know, I'm getting there at 6:00. M's getting there whenever, so, you know, just get there whenever."
D called at 6:00 and said "Don't go to that diner. There's filming going on and it doesn't look like they have a bar. I'm going to walk around and find somewhere else to eat."
I left work at about 6:15 and went home to grab my hoodie, since it was winter yesterday. I called D who said "We're at the Tick Tock Diner, on the northwest side of 34th and 8th."
Word.
By the time I arrived, D and M had already had drinks and inhaled mozzeralla sticks.
I looked at the menu and decided what I wanted. Fifteen minutes passed and still no waiter. I was getting slightly concerned because I wanted good seats for Batman.
The waiter finally appeared and said "Can I get you anything else?"
We were like "Well, we'd like to order our dinner."
"Oh, right."
"I'd like the Santa Fe omelette," I said, and was met with a look indicating that suddenly I had seven heads.
"The Santa Fe omelette?" I repeated.
Still a blank stare.
I pointed to it on the menu. He shook his head in disbelief and wrote it down. He then said "What toast would you like?"
"What kind do you have?"
"Toast."
"Yeah, but what do you have?"
"All kinds of toast," very judgmentally.
"OK. Well, do you have raisin?"
"No."
"What do you have?"
"You know, toast."
"What kinds do you have?"
All confused "White? Rye?"
"I'll just have white."
Fine.
The food didn't come for a while and we started to get concerned again.
The waiter reappeared and said "Oh, I lost your order. I just don't know where it is. Can you give it to me again?"
We re-ordered.
The food still did not come, nor did our drinks.
He reappeared and said "It's coming soon..." and we said "Um, could we have the waters? And the beer? And could I get some silverware?"
Nothing appeared.
Finally the food came. No beverages. No silverware.
I said "Our beverages? And silverware?"
The beverages came out about 5 minutes later, and still no silverware.
I asked the lady in the booth next to us if I could have her extra set of silverware.
Finally we were able to eat!
The food wasn't bad. We were sitting at a really small booth so I had my toast sort of on the edge of the table with my knife hanging over the edge of the plate. A waitress blew by frantically and knocked the knife off of the plate, into the air, it bounced off of my shirt and then my pants and finally onto the floor.
She got all huffy, as though it was my fault, picked up the knife and stormed off. She didn't apologize, nor did she return with a replacement knife.
Terrible experience all around, and late to Batman Begins.
We ended up having to sit in the second row of a theater with a huge screen. I wasn't too upset about it, as I'd seen Spiderman under similar circumstances and rather enjoyed being that close to the action.
We ended up, however, having to sit in front of some woman who had her three year old daughter with her. First of all - who brings a three year old to see Batman Begins? Second of all - who brings a three year old to see a 9:00 showing of Batman Begins? Third of all - yeah. Needless to say the kid was screaming and making horrified and amused noises throughout the entire movie. Very annoying.
Also annoying was the fact that many people decided that it would be acceptable to talk throughout the movie. There was a huge thug factor at this movie, and I was convinced that a knife fight or shooting would break out. An argument erupted somewhere in the stadium seating about 15 minutes into the movie. Two groups of people literally screaming at each other. What was the fight about? No idea. Probably "Yo, assholes, stop talking" and then "I can do whatever I want!" and then "Shut the fuck up!" A lot of people left entirely, some people switched seats. Mostly people were just screaming and murmering and getting out of hand. I don't know how it was resolved, but the first half hour of the movie is basically lost to me.
Also annoying was the fact that the movie theater was 3 degrees. I had my hoodie zipped all the way and the hood on and then pulled it up over my face and was still shivering the entire time.
Also annoying was the fact that I have been sick. Well, I don't know if I am sick but something has been awry for the past few days, starting with Tuesday when I took a three hour nap in the middle of the day. I have been exhausted, but not like flu exhausted. Like weird internal exhaustion, and today I am exhausted and am sometimes having a fever and sometimes my hands are shaking to the point that I can't label tubes. Weird. I averaged at least one yawn a minute during the movie, and nearly fell asleep a couple of times.
This all being said and having seen this movie under duress, my opinion is: FUCKING AWESOME AMAZING WOW BLAM POW PERFECT!
My thoughts:
1. Christian Bale - best Batman thus far. He was amazing. He played it believably dark and smartly.
2. Katie Holmes - not nearly as annoying as I'd feared. (On a similar note, I saw the preview for Dukes of Hazard and I feel really bad about it, because I think that the casting of Jessica Simpson is goint to prevent anyone from seeing it. Her annoyingness quotient far exceeds the coolness factor of the rest of the movie).
3. Gary Oldman - he somehow managed to not be creepy! Who knew that was even possible? He is endearing and wholesome as the future Commissioner Gordon.
4. Michael Caine as Alfred - ADORABLE. We had to fill out an audience survey and you had to pick your favorite character, and I went with Michael Caine. He is so cute and wonderful in this movie.
5. Cillian Murphy - WOW. He is going to be a huge star. I fell in love with him in 28 Days Later. I had a hard time choosing between him and Michael Caine as my favorite character. He is beautiful. There's something enchanting about his face. He's pretty. And an amazing actor.
6. Morgan Freeman - yeah. Of course he was wonderful. He always is. He is a national treasure. The most exciting thing about Morgan Freeman in this movie is that he is a scientist! He was throwing around "receptor" and other terminology. D became spastic at one point, punched me and said "That's a gas chromatograph (or something to that effect - I don't know anything about chemistry)!" Morgan Freeman was all "I analyzed your blood and receptor content and catalyst and blah blah blah - it was difficult" but then managed to develop an antedote to the chemical in the same day. I love movie science.
7. Other cast members such as Tom Wilkinson, Liam Neeson, Ken Watanabe - all awesome.
8. The strength of this movie is the characters. Everyone is perfect. I can't stop gushing about this movie. I am still high from it.
9. The fight scenes at the beginning between Liam Neeson and Christian Bale are quick and gorgeous.
10. My only complaint might be Gotham itself - it was a little too CGI and shiny.
11. Thematically it was intense - fear and guilt and duty etc. It was tortured without being cheesy.
12. Script - perfect.
Yeah. I could go on and on. Net: I loved it and you must all see it.
That is all.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Concentrating
It is difficult to concentrate at work when you know that you will be seeing Batman Begins in a few short hours!!!!
Christian Bale as Batman. Does life get any better? It is bizarre to me that I have had a steady crush on Christian Bale since the early days of Newsies. Tastes change and evolve, yet Christian Bale remains a constant.
Men have come and gone - Corey Haim, William Baldwin, Ralph Fiennes - but Christian Bale persists! YUM.
In other movie news, I watched Maria Full of Grace last night, which is an excellent movie that gave me an ulcer about 10 minutes into it.
OK. I really should work and stop shreaking "BATMAN!" every five minutes.
Christian Bale as Batman. Does life get any better? It is bizarre to me that I have had a steady crush on Christian Bale since the early days of Newsies. Tastes change and evolve, yet Christian Bale remains a constant.
Men have come and gone - Corey Haim, William Baldwin, Ralph Fiennes - but Christian Bale persists! YUM.
In other movie news, I watched Maria Full of Grace last night, which is an excellent movie that gave me an ulcer about 10 minutes into it.
OK. I really should work and stop shreaking "BATMAN!" every five minutes.
Laundry - Epilogue
I have been dropping off my laundry to be washed by someone else since I moved.
I know - you were worried! What if someone stole my laundry? What if it was returned smaller to me due to shrinkage? What if what if what if?
These were all legitimate concerns, and concerns that I shared with you.
There had been no issues until I picked up the sheets/towels that I had washed post-parents' visit.
I got home, opened my neatly folded and lovely-smelling towels, and found, to my surprise, men's clothes!!!
All of my items were returned, with the addition of a large pair of pants and large shirt!!!!
I am plagued with guilt. I know this is not my fault, but I feel awful. I figured I'd be able to bring them back to the laundromat and the woman who works there would instantly know to whom they belonged. Everyone who drops their clothes off there, like me, must be a regular, and after a certain amount of washes, the people who work there must learn what clothes belong to whom.
But no. The woman, who speaks to me in a combination of English and Spanish but who I am learning to understand, had no idea who the clothes belong to.
She too felt terrible. "This never happens!" she said. I feel awful. I left them with her, but now there is a man out there who is missing his khaki pants and his large red button-down shirt with weird blue paisley things on it!
And now I am newly paranoid that my clothes will accidentally be given to someone else! Hopefully the person who gets them will be a large man who knows nobody who will fit into my small clothes and will return them because he is plagued with guilt.
Sigh. I shouldn't be thinking about this at all, but I feel so bad.
I know - you were worried! What if someone stole my laundry? What if it was returned smaller to me due to shrinkage? What if what if what if?
These were all legitimate concerns, and concerns that I shared with you.
There had been no issues until I picked up the sheets/towels that I had washed post-parents' visit.
I got home, opened my neatly folded and lovely-smelling towels, and found, to my surprise, men's clothes!!!
All of my items were returned, with the addition of a large pair of pants and large shirt!!!!
I am plagued with guilt. I know this is not my fault, but I feel awful. I figured I'd be able to bring them back to the laundromat and the woman who works there would instantly know to whom they belonged. Everyone who drops their clothes off there, like me, must be a regular, and after a certain amount of washes, the people who work there must learn what clothes belong to whom.
But no. The woman, who speaks to me in a combination of English and Spanish but who I am learning to understand, had no idea who the clothes belong to.
She too felt terrible. "This never happens!" she said. I feel awful. I left them with her, but now there is a man out there who is missing his khaki pants and his large red button-down shirt with weird blue paisley things on it!
And now I am newly paranoid that my clothes will accidentally be given to someone else! Hopefully the person who gets them will be a large man who knows nobody who will fit into my small clothes and will return them because he is plagued with guilt.
Sigh. I shouldn't be thinking about this at all, but I feel so bad.
Monday, June 13, 2005
Poetry
I had a dream last night that Anonymous sent me a poem that expressed how my blog had changed his life for the better. He sent a photo of himself along with the poem.
I then had a dream in which these huge balls of red smoke were in the sky in my hometown. I was in a crowd of people looking at the sky. These balls would appear above the canopy of trees in my parents' back yard and would then be hurled towards the earth. We couldn't tell where they were landing, nor could we tell what they were. I said "I think it's fire" but then someone said "No, because there's no fire on the ground indicating where they've landed." The military soon appeared, and told everyone that we had to be rushed to protective camps. "Terrorists," they guessed, and forced us to move along.
I stared at the sky, wondering what was to become of Medway. I wondered why they'd chosen Medway as a target. The camp was a huge, white outdoor tent - imagine the type of tent you'd put up in your backyard if you were hosting a wedding.
I took my place amongst the frightened people. People were all lying down on their backs, just waiting. Nobody spoke. I located my VP in the crowd and said "I want to be near you, just in case we are the last two people left on earth and have the responsibilty of repopulating it. That way the species would have a chance of being tall."
I then realized that I had to go to the bathroom. The military was stern and would not allow anyone to leave the camp. I said "Listen, that is my parents' house. It's totally ok if I just leave for a second." They wouldn't allow me to leave. They could not be convinced.
Then, out of nowhere, Anonymous appeared! I recognized him from his photo. He said "I'll get you in there. It's the least I can do for you."
And then I woke up.
This is another instance of completely obvious and derivative dreaming. Fire in the sky, terrorists, not knowing what was going on. All based on Friday's weird experience of calm in the face of possible terrorism. Not being allowed to go into the house to use the bathroom was definitely a shout-out to Curb Your Enthusiasm (the episode in which Larry attends a pool party and the guests are not allowed to use the facilities in the house). The white tent was in response to Werner Herzog's The White Diamond, which I saw last night.
I am perplexed, however, by the sentimental dreaming about My Mundane Life In Song.
I am distressed that I am dreaming about blogs. And my blog in particular. What a waste of potential good dream content. Contagious media is taking over my neurons.
My subconscious is so uncreative.
I then had a dream in which these huge balls of red smoke were in the sky in my hometown. I was in a crowd of people looking at the sky. These balls would appear above the canopy of trees in my parents' back yard and would then be hurled towards the earth. We couldn't tell where they were landing, nor could we tell what they were. I said "I think it's fire" but then someone said "No, because there's no fire on the ground indicating where they've landed." The military soon appeared, and told everyone that we had to be rushed to protective camps. "Terrorists," they guessed, and forced us to move along.
I stared at the sky, wondering what was to become of Medway. I wondered why they'd chosen Medway as a target. The camp was a huge, white outdoor tent - imagine the type of tent you'd put up in your backyard if you were hosting a wedding.
I took my place amongst the frightened people. People were all lying down on their backs, just waiting. Nobody spoke. I located my VP in the crowd and said "I want to be near you, just in case we are the last two people left on earth and have the responsibilty of repopulating it. That way the species would have a chance of being tall."
I then realized that I had to go to the bathroom. The military was stern and would not allow anyone to leave the camp. I said "Listen, that is my parents' house. It's totally ok if I just leave for a second." They wouldn't allow me to leave. They could not be convinced.
Then, out of nowhere, Anonymous appeared! I recognized him from his photo. He said "I'll get you in there. It's the least I can do for you."
And then I woke up.
This is another instance of completely obvious and derivative dreaming. Fire in the sky, terrorists, not knowing what was going on. All based on Friday's weird experience of calm in the face of possible terrorism. Not being allowed to go into the house to use the bathroom was definitely a shout-out to Curb Your Enthusiasm (the episode in which Larry attends a pool party and the guests are not allowed to use the facilities in the house). The white tent was in response to Werner Herzog's The White Diamond, which I saw last night.
I am perplexed, however, by the sentimental dreaming about My Mundane Life In Song.
I am distressed that I am dreaming about blogs. And my blog in particular. What a waste of potential good dream content. Contagious media is taking over my neurons.
My subconscious is so uncreative.
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Most Bizarre Occurence Of Life Thus Far
I left work early on Friday afternoon in order to go home to clean my apartment in preparation for my parents' visit.
I was, of course, a stress case. I'd hoped to be able to take a nap, but I couldn't sleep. It was oppressively hot, and I kept wondering "When will they be here?" I knew they were running late, but I had no idea how late they'd be.
Instead of taking a nap, I decided to clean. A lot. My parents would be very impressed! I swept, dusted, even wet-jetted the floors. It was at least 90 degrees on Friday afternoon and apparently my apartment gets really hot in the middle of the day. It was not fun, but this is what one does in preparation for parents' visit.
After finishing cleaning, I decided to unwind and hopefully cool off by playing some piano. I played for about five minutes and randomly looked over my shoulder and out the window.
I don't even know where to begin with this.
How do I describe what happened?
Outside my window was complete white. I couldn't see an inch outside the window. It was smoke billowing up, but it didn't smell like smoke. It was almost like being on an airplane in the clouds. Total whiteness.
First thought: "Hmmm. Sometimes my apartment gets really dusty during the day. Maybe the gas station, which is right below me, does some sort of weird cleaning during the day and that's what has been causing the dust?" Originally I'd thought that perhaps the dust was due to construction in the apartment above me, but maybe it was this phenomenon happening every afternoon.
The more I thought about it, the more I thought "No, this can't be normal. I can't see at all. I can't even see my fire escape and I am standing a cm away from it."
"Come to think of it, I can't really see in my apartment right now." My entire apartment started filling with whatever the smoke was. I was standing at the window, and could barely see my piano across the room.
I took off my glasses and realized that whatever it was had accumulated on them as well.
I thought "Something has to be on fire. Is my apartment on fire? But it doesn't smell like smoke! What could be on fire? Is it the fan? Is the fan on fire and the smoke is going outside?"
"Is this is a terrorist attack? Fuck! What if this is a chemical attack? FUCK!!!"
"Wait. No. This will pass."
"But what if this is chemical?"
"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!?!?"
"Now I am inhaling this stuff. This can't be good. Whatever it is, it's not good. Maybe I shouldn't stick around for this."
I quickly shut the windows and turned the fan, which was blowing whatever it was into my apartment, to reverse so that hopefully it would start to blow whatever it was out of my apartment.
I washed my glasses quickly, grabbed my wallet, keys, and cell phone and left the apartment.
I then ran back in to get my camera.
I really had no idea what was going on. I didn't know where I was going to go. I just knew that it probably wasn't the best idea to be in my apartment.
I expected there to be mad pandemonium in my building, but nobody was running around.
I thought "What if its only outside my window? What the fuck?"
Then I thought better of it, and realized that probably nobody was home since it was the middle of the day.
It felt like Terminator 2. You know the scene where Linda Hamilton is having the nightmare about the future and everyone gets blown away and turns into ash? That's how I felt. I felt like grabbing my window and screaming "Nooooooo!" as the pedestrians who were on the street during whatever this was were blown to bits.
Nuclear winter.
There was no sky.
It was just white stuff.
Outside of my building a crowd had gathered and the dust had literally settled.
A man was getting into his car, which was covered in the stuff. I asked him if he knew what happened. He was laughing. His friend soon joined us, and informed me that the gas station clerk who worked behind the counter accidentally pressed the fire button.
The fire department was already there.
At first I didn't understand, but then it occurred to me that should a fire break out at a gas station, that would be a very bad scene for obvious reasons. It makes sense that they need to be able to put it out themselves. And fast.
Apparently some asshole accidentally backed into the freaking button and set off whatever system is in place to put out a gas fire of gigantic proportions. This caused the entire gas station, as well as like two surrounding blocks, to be covered in freaking sodium bicarbonate.
This is the ground surrounding the gas station:
The owner of this car was getting gas when this all happened:
They called an ambulance for his wife, who was 8 and a half months pregnant.
Here are some more photos from the gas station:
I was irate. I realized, then, that my entire apartment was going to be covered. COVERED. I made demands. I said "I don't think you understand, PEOPLE. MY PARENTS ARE COMING IN A FEW MINUTES!!! THEY ARE STAYING IN NYC, IN MY MICROSCOPIC APARTMENT, FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER AND I JUST FREAKING CLEANED AND NOW MY ENTIRE APARTMENT IS COVERED IN THIS SHIT!"
The manager was "on his way" for about an hour.
Nothing came of this.
I decided to go back into my apartment building. The windows in the stairwells were only open about half an inch each, and this is what the building looked like on the inside:
When I got back into my apartment, it was, indeed, covered in a layer of the stuff. Every single item I own. Everything. Each book. Each CD that was out. Each item hung on the wall. My parents were only about half an hour away (they actually got stuck in traffic for 2.5 hours but I was thrilled because had they not hit traffic they'd have been in my apartment when all of this happened). I went on damage control and swept and mopped what I could, rewashed all the dishes, sent D, who turned up shortly before my parents, to the laundromat with all of the sheets and bedding and towels, started to wipe off all of my hair products and books and everything else I had time for. Sweeping helped but now the stuff is in between all of the cracks in the newly renovated floor. Everything in my entertainment center is covered and I don't have the stamina to unplug everything and rewire everything and wash everything and blah.
In-fucking-furiating.
I didn't have the presence of mind to take photos in my apartment, because my main concern was getting the apartment in semi-presentable condition by the time my parents arrived. I did, however, take this photo of the fire escape outside my living room window, which is a good representation of the condition of the rest of my apartment:
My parents arrived and obviously I was a stress case. They arrived with enough luggage for 10 people to be on vacation for 10 days. It was chaos. I was so wound up and distressed and mortified. All I wanted to do was clean or relax or make more demands. I didn't want an army of people to deposit 43 pieces of luggage in 300 square feet of floor that was covered in dust. I hated that I had to be the person who was like "Can you take off your shoes before you walk into the apartment? I don't want you tracking that stuff all over the place."
I have a couple feelings about the timing of all of this:
1. If my parents weren't visiting, I'd not have been home for this and therefore my windows would have been shut.
2. If this had happened, like, five minutes sooner my computer would have been destroyed. It was sitting on the table in front of the fan while I downloaded music while I cleaned. I put it in my closet, which was the only place that was untouched by the dust because the door was closed, right before I started playing the piano.
3. If my parents hadn't been running late in the morning and hadn't therefore hit traffic, they would have been there for this and it would have been chaos. Mom most certainly would have thought it was terrorists and demanded hospitalization, and they'd have one more piece of data supporting their feeling that I should move back to MA. Not that they think I should move - they love NYC - but they'd like to have me home. I imagine had they experienced this they'd no longer be in love with NYC. Not to mention that both the couch and new air conditioner would probably have been destroyed.
4. But, what are the odds of this sort of freak occurrence happening right before your parents' visit that already has you extremely stressed out and right after you just cleaned your apartment way too thoroughly?
I guess it worked out for the best, but consequently I had an extremely stressful weekend during which all I wanted to do was rid my apartment of whatever sodium bicarbonate residue I could but during which I instead dragged my parents, who again didn't want to walk anywhere, around the city. And, to make matters worse, when we (five of us in my small apartment - two parents, Brother, D and myself) were in my apartment, we couldn't open any of the windows because the fire escape was covered with the stuff and I didn't want it to blow in anymore.
Ugh.
I gave my photos to the super so that they could submit an insurance claim to have the building cleaned. I am hoping that they will refund me for the laundry and will pay to have my floors cleaned. I really shouldn't have to do that.
I really shouldn't have had to do anything. My super said "Did you take pictures of your apartment? We can have someone come in and clean it." "No, I already cleaned it because MY PARENTS ARE GOING TO BE HERE IN TEN MINUTES AHHHHHHH!" It's not like you can wait for this sort of thing. The place was covered. Unliveable.
Ridiculous.
Various firemen said things like "You had a fan on? Why? Why don't you have an air conditioner?" and "If you had an air conditioner, you wouldn't have blown that stuff in" and "Yeah, but if she had an air conditioner it might have been destroyed" and "You should get the gas station insurance to pay to put your folks up in the Waldorf." I got yelled at by some lady in the gas station for "taking photos on the premises." Fuck off, lady. It's the LEAST I am going to do since my apartment is covered in this shit because some stupid employee of yours doesn't know how to lean correctly.
Only in NYC, folks.
I am so getting renter's insurance tomorrow.
What a stressful weekend.
I was, of course, a stress case. I'd hoped to be able to take a nap, but I couldn't sleep. It was oppressively hot, and I kept wondering "When will they be here?" I knew they were running late, but I had no idea how late they'd be.
Instead of taking a nap, I decided to clean. A lot. My parents would be very impressed! I swept, dusted, even wet-jetted the floors. It was at least 90 degrees on Friday afternoon and apparently my apartment gets really hot in the middle of the day. It was not fun, but this is what one does in preparation for parents' visit.
After finishing cleaning, I decided to unwind and hopefully cool off by playing some piano. I played for about five minutes and randomly looked over my shoulder and out the window.
I don't even know where to begin with this.
How do I describe what happened?
Outside my window was complete white. I couldn't see an inch outside the window. It was smoke billowing up, but it didn't smell like smoke. It was almost like being on an airplane in the clouds. Total whiteness.
First thought: "Hmmm. Sometimes my apartment gets really dusty during the day. Maybe the gas station, which is right below me, does some sort of weird cleaning during the day and that's what has been causing the dust?" Originally I'd thought that perhaps the dust was due to construction in the apartment above me, but maybe it was this phenomenon happening every afternoon.
The more I thought about it, the more I thought "No, this can't be normal. I can't see at all. I can't even see my fire escape and I am standing a cm away from it."
"Come to think of it, I can't really see in my apartment right now." My entire apartment started filling with whatever the smoke was. I was standing at the window, and could barely see my piano across the room.
I took off my glasses and realized that whatever it was had accumulated on them as well.
I thought "Something has to be on fire. Is my apartment on fire? But it doesn't smell like smoke! What could be on fire? Is it the fan? Is the fan on fire and the smoke is going outside?"
"Is this is a terrorist attack? Fuck! What if this is a chemical attack? FUCK!!!"
"Wait. No. This will pass."
"But what if this is chemical?"
"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!?!?"
"Now I am inhaling this stuff. This can't be good. Whatever it is, it's not good. Maybe I shouldn't stick around for this."
I quickly shut the windows and turned the fan, which was blowing whatever it was into my apartment, to reverse so that hopefully it would start to blow whatever it was out of my apartment.
I washed my glasses quickly, grabbed my wallet, keys, and cell phone and left the apartment.
I then ran back in to get my camera.
I really had no idea what was going on. I didn't know where I was going to go. I just knew that it probably wasn't the best idea to be in my apartment.
I expected there to be mad pandemonium in my building, but nobody was running around.
I thought "What if its only outside my window? What the fuck?"
Then I thought better of it, and realized that probably nobody was home since it was the middle of the day.
It felt like Terminator 2. You know the scene where Linda Hamilton is having the nightmare about the future and everyone gets blown away and turns into ash? That's how I felt. I felt like grabbing my window and screaming "Nooooooo!" as the pedestrians who were on the street during whatever this was were blown to bits.
Nuclear winter.
There was no sky.
It was just white stuff.
Outside of my building a crowd had gathered and the dust had literally settled.
A man was getting into his car, which was covered in the stuff. I asked him if he knew what happened. He was laughing. His friend soon joined us, and informed me that the gas station clerk who worked behind the counter accidentally pressed the fire button.
The fire department was already there.
At first I didn't understand, but then it occurred to me that should a fire break out at a gas station, that would be a very bad scene for obvious reasons. It makes sense that they need to be able to put it out themselves. And fast.
Apparently some asshole accidentally backed into the freaking button and set off whatever system is in place to put out a gas fire of gigantic proportions. This caused the entire gas station, as well as like two surrounding blocks, to be covered in freaking sodium bicarbonate.
This is the ground surrounding the gas station:
The owner of this car was getting gas when this all happened:
They called an ambulance for his wife, who was 8 and a half months pregnant.
Here are some more photos from the gas station:
I was irate. I realized, then, that my entire apartment was going to be covered. COVERED. I made demands. I said "I don't think you understand, PEOPLE. MY PARENTS ARE COMING IN A FEW MINUTES!!! THEY ARE STAYING IN NYC, IN MY MICROSCOPIC APARTMENT, FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER AND I JUST FREAKING CLEANED AND NOW MY ENTIRE APARTMENT IS COVERED IN THIS SHIT!"
The manager was "on his way" for about an hour.
Nothing came of this.
I decided to go back into my apartment building. The windows in the stairwells were only open about half an inch each, and this is what the building looked like on the inside:
When I got back into my apartment, it was, indeed, covered in a layer of the stuff. Every single item I own. Everything. Each book. Each CD that was out. Each item hung on the wall. My parents were only about half an hour away (they actually got stuck in traffic for 2.5 hours but I was thrilled because had they not hit traffic they'd have been in my apartment when all of this happened). I went on damage control and swept and mopped what I could, rewashed all the dishes, sent D, who turned up shortly before my parents, to the laundromat with all of the sheets and bedding and towels, started to wipe off all of my hair products and books and everything else I had time for. Sweeping helped but now the stuff is in between all of the cracks in the newly renovated floor. Everything in my entertainment center is covered and I don't have the stamina to unplug everything and rewire everything and wash everything and blah.
In-fucking-furiating.
I didn't have the presence of mind to take photos in my apartment, because my main concern was getting the apartment in semi-presentable condition by the time my parents arrived. I did, however, take this photo of the fire escape outside my living room window, which is a good representation of the condition of the rest of my apartment:
My parents arrived and obviously I was a stress case. They arrived with enough luggage for 10 people to be on vacation for 10 days. It was chaos. I was so wound up and distressed and mortified. All I wanted to do was clean or relax or make more demands. I didn't want an army of people to deposit 43 pieces of luggage in 300 square feet of floor that was covered in dust. I hated that I had to be the person who was like "Can you take off your shoes before you walk into the apartment? I don't want you tracking that stuff all over the place."
I have a couple feelings about the timing of all of this:
1. If my parents weren't visiting, I'd not have been home for this and therefore my windows would have been shut.
2. If this had happened, like, five minutes sooner my computer would have been destroyed. It was sitting on the table in front of the fan while I downloaded music while I cleaned. I put it in my closet, which was the only place that was untouched by the dust because the door was closed, right before I started playing the piano.
3. If my parents hadn't been running late in the morning and hadn't therefore hit traffic, they would have been there for this and it would have been chaos. Mom most certainly would have thought it was terrorists and demanded hospitalization, and they'd have one more piece of data supporting their feeling that I should move back to MA. Not that they think I should move - they love NYC - but they'd like to have me home. I imagine had they experienced this they'd no longer be in love with NYC. Not to mention that both the couch and new air conditioner would probably have been destroyed.
4. But, what are the odds of this sort of freak occurrence happening right before your parents' visit that already has you extremely stressed out and right after you just cleaned your apartment way too thoroughly?
I guess it worked out for the best, but consequently I had an extremely stressful weekend during which all I wanted to do was rid my apartment of whatever sodium bicarbonate residue I could but during which I instead dragged my parents, who again didn't want to walk anywhere, around the city. And, to make matters worse, when we (five of us in my small apartment - two parents, Brother, D and myself) were in my apartment, we couldn't open any of the windows because the fire escape was covered with the stuff and I didn't want it to blow in anymore.
Ugh.
I gave my photos to the super so that they could submit an insurance claim to have the building cleaned. I am hoping that they will refund me for the laundry and will pay to have my floors cleaned. I really shouldn't have to do that.
I really shouldn't have had to do anything. My super said "Did you take pictures of your apartment? We can have someone come in and clean it." "No, I already cleaned it because MY PARENTS ARE GOING TO BE HERE IN TEN MINUTES AHHHHHHH!" It's not like you can wait for this sort of thing. The place was covered. Unliveable.
Ridiculous.
Various firemen said things like "You had a fan on? Why? Why don't you have an air conditioner?" and "If you had an air conditioner, you wouldn't have blown that stuff in" and "Yeah, but if she had an air conditioner it might have been destroyed" and "You should get the gas station insurance to pay to put your folks up in the Waldorf." I got yelled at by some lady in the gas station for "taking photos on the premises." Fuck off, lady. It's the LEAST I am going to do since my apartment is covered in this shit because some stupid employee of yours doesn't know how to lean correctly.
Only in NYC, folks.
I am so getting renter's insurance tomorrow.
What a stressful weekend.
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