REVENGE OF THE SITH!!!!

After the Aimee Mann show, I headed uptown to the Ziegfeld to get in line for 9:30 showing of Revenge of the Sith.

I was slightly concerned about the line. When I arrived at the "megastore" earlier that evening, I encountered hundreds upon hundreds of people waiting in line for the 8:15 showing at the Union Square theater.

I arrived at about 7:00 and already there were hundreds upon hundreds of people in line.

These were the people in front of me:



I was excited, because one of the people in front of me was Shandi from America's Next Top Model. You might remember Shandi as the girl who cheated on her boyfriend with a hot male model in Milan and who then experienced all sorts of televised drama that scandalized the entire world:



I was dejected when I first arrived, because I thought "Man, I am at the end of the line. I should have arrived here like four hours ago." The line wasn't a line so much as it was a mob of people in a semi-organized state.

The overall vibe was good, though, and people were excited.

D couldn't take standing anymore and was the only person who sat down:



He was hoping to start a movement that all would follow. I had hope, too, as I wanted to sit down. But I didn't want for us to be the only ones. He kept saying things like "Standing, unlike walking, has no health benefit at all. The only thing it does is help you get better at standing, and, really, who wants to do that?"

After another hour in line, I didn't feel so bad because there were a lot of people behind us:



I overheard someone in the ladies' room say that The Ziegfeld holds 1900 people or something. It's an old, classic theater with velvet seats.

Getting into the theater wasn't as dramatic as I'd feared. It took about 5 minutes to get everyone inside, and it flowed quickly.

We ran up the stairs and decided to head straight for the balcony.

We got seats in the fifth row and couldn't contain our excitement.

I am annoyed because my camera died during my attempt to stealthly take pictures of Shandi, so I don't have any photos of the chaos in the theater.

The vibe was amazing. I said "D, it is so important to do this, because whether or not you want to admit it, we are part of this group."

He laughed and said "Yes. Yes yes."

D had been soliloquizing in the line about identifying oneself with a group - either by ethnicity or hometown etc. and the philosophical assumptions that this self-identification carries and how people will take the good but not the bad assumptions associated with the group they're mentioning blah blah - and I was like "Yes, dear, yes, but can I just watch the people and be excited about Star Wars?"

I admit it. I am a nerd. I am a huge Star Wars nerd and I was proud to be amongst my people.

There were a bunch of Jedi in the audience and two kids that staged a light saber duel at the front of the theater.

It was electric.

I decided to use the ladies' room, and it was awesome because the line for the ladies' room was about 1/10 the size of the line for the men's room. Justice!

The gender ratio was about 10:1 male:female in the line, and I know all the nerd-boys were like "Dude, we can't miss one second of this movie!"

They showed the previews and people were rowdy. I love a rowdy audience. I love digital projection. I love the way the 20th Century Fox drums sound when you know Star Wars is to follow. I love knowing you are about to have a religious experience.

I love that people starting screaming when the Lucasfilm logo appeared and I love the dude behind me who yelled "Wait for it... wait for it...."

And then: REVENGE OF THE SITH.

Aimee Mann at Virgin Megastore

I hate to use the word "megastore." I'd never even been in the "Megastore" (despite using it as a good place to meet people outside of) until yesterday, because I prefer to buy CD's used or from wicked cool places such as Newbury Comics, although I've found no equivalent thus far in NYC.

Aimee Mann was doing an in-store appearance at 6:30. I left work at about 5:15 despite having sauntered in at around 10:05. I wanted to see, dammit! There was no way I'd be able to see if I got there any later than 6:00.

Despite having arrived early, I was still unable to see a thing.

Luckily I had my camera with me (for somebody's going-away lunch and for REVENGE OF THE SITH). Otherwise I'd never even have known what Aimee Mann was wearing.



As always, Aimee Mann was amazing. Her voice is so clear and perfect. She's probably one of the best live performers ever.



She played five new songs and all were amazing. I'd have picked up the new album from the "megastore" and had her sign it had I not had to run to get into the line at the Ziegfeld for the 9:00 showing of REVENGE OF THE SITH!!!!

Anyway, Aimee Mann. Awesome. Grab the new album and see her if you get a chance. Actually, I'd recommend seeing an in-store instead of seeing her live, because, unlike her show at Avalon, nobody was making out in the "megastore."

Revenge of the Sith Activities - Part II

I was so excited after having experienced Star Wars fever in the afternoon that I decided to go back to The Ziegfeld at night to see more!

I knew it would be torture since I did not have tickets to the premier, but decided to deal with the torture since this would be the last time this would ever happen!

When I arrived, The Ziegfeld was prepared for Revenge of the Sith:



There was a spotlight, red carpet, and Storm Troopers loitering:





At one point the Storm Troopers sang "You've Lost That Loving Feeling" or whatever that song is to some girl who was dressed up as Princess Leia. It was adorable.



Here are some photos from the line:















This guy was confused:



At 10:00, they let the people who had been waiting forever walk the red carpet:



All of the costumed people who were part of the original bunch then got to walk the red carpet:









The Average Joe people were going to be allowed to enter the theater at 11:10, but I didn't want to stick around to see them walk the carpet. I had met a lot of them that afternoon, but couldn't keep my eyes open long enough to show my support.

I wanted to make sure I got a good night's sleep so that I'd be completely lucid tonight when I see Episode III!!!!!

YEAH!!!!

I have my camera with me today, so if anything interesting happens tonight, you will get to see.

Revenge of the Sith Activities - Part 1

I had to go for bloodwork yesterday afternoon. It was a beautiful day and I happened to have my camera with me, so I decided to swing by the Ziegfeld on 54th to see if there was any Star Wars related insanity going down.

On my way to the Ziegfeld, I encountered this guy:



I knew I was in for a treat.

The Ziegfeld was busily preparing for the red carpet that night:



There were lots of people camping out:





Some of these people were part of a non-profit organization that was raising money for charity by waiting in line for months. They apparently were going to get into the movie first.





The non-profit people sponsored things for the campers, such as massages:



Geek Squad also had this thing, a Fully Operational Workstation:



The inside of the workstation was set up to look like "the Death Star." A very cute boy told me I could go inside. I don't know if it was open to the general public or if he let me inside because I looked tres official with my camera. Inside they had a bunch of computers with wireless internet connections so the campers could keep in touch with the outside world, as well as what looked like a kitchen.





After the non-profit line was the line of regular people who were hoping to get a good seat:



















On my way back to work, I passed a little souvenir shop. It's window looked like this:



I had to go inside. I took some photos:



Because I felt guilty about taking pictures in the store, I bought Star Wars temporary tattoos that we are still showing off today!

Jawas

Why is it that every time you're applying a Star Wars tattoo at work your boss appears at that very second and shrieks, in alarm, "What happened? Are you OK!??!?!" At first you are confused. You then have to say "Oh? You mean why am I sitting here hunched over while holding a wad of wet paper towels against my arm?" If you are Bench Buddy you then say "Because, oh really, its nothing, I just, its minor... it's a... it's a small gash..." And then, if you're me, and you assume that everyone in their right mind is scrambling for an opportunity to apply a Star Wars tattoo at work, you start giggling like a maniac and offer Bench Buddy's extremely conservative and hardworking boss a Princess Leia tattoo which she refuses.

The Jawa tattoo on my forearm is awesome.

I know. Try not to be too jealous.

Collective Sigh of Relief

You can all sleep well tonight knowing that my laundry, all of it, has been returned to me without issue.

It is all there and it is oh so clean.

And miraculously compressed into 1/8 its original size, so I didn't break my back carrying it this time.

They folded everything into amazing little square packets. My clothes have never looked so beautiful!

People in New York say "Once you drop off laundry you'll never do your own laundry again! You will be hooked! Don't do it!!!" I thought "How uptown girl! I'll never drop off my laundry! I will never be that person!" I determined that it was acceptable to drop off my laundry this one time since I just moved and am without clothes or free time to do laundry but dear god! My clothes are all little squares! It's fabulous!!! Not only do you not have to do laundry, but it takes 1/10 the time to put it away because it is already folded, and folded professionally in a way that I can never even hope to duplicate.

I think I am addicted.

Drat.

Ex-Factor

I have another question for you, dear readers.

Is it completely irrational to feel unsettled about your significant other spending time with his/her ex?

I feel that it is irrational, but only slightly.

Is it normal not to want to meet your significant other's former lovers? I can't believe I just wrote "lovers." I am a dork.

Ah, to be secure. It's hard to explain these sorts of issues to someone who is completely secure.

I feel like I'd be thinking, the entire time, "You slept with my boyfriend!" and "I wonder what they were like together" and "She's way hotter than me" and "Why is he looking at her like that?" and "What are they saying to each other?" and "They seem to share something that we don't have!" and "Damn, she is infinitely cooler than me."

Secure people would think "What a nice girl" and "I'd like to be her friend" and "Isn't it nice that my boyfriend has such a hot friend who he's not interested in at all, even though they used to sleep together constantly, because he loves me!"

Right.

How do you just become secure? What needs to happen? What snaps that allows you to be like "Nothing can jeopardize this"?

I don't know. I don't know why I'm uncomfortable with the idea. I guess its because I've had many sordid encounters with various ex-es and I don't trust ex-es one bit.

Why, if you are a person with millions of friends, must you keep your ex around?

In my experience, people keep their ex-es around for one of three reasons:

1. source of comfort
2. source of self esteem
3. as a backup

If you're in a good relationship, why have your ex be a presence?

Unless you dated a million years ago. Fresh ex-es are scary.

Unless the ex was substantial. Then again, if the ex is super meaningful then you're tied together forever, which also makes me nervous, and is another reason the ex should not be in your life.

Unless the ex is insubstantial. Then again, if the ex is insubstantial, then the ex should not be in your life if it is a cause of stress to your significant other. What's the point?

I suppose you are supposed to trust the judgment of your significant other to know what is and is not a good idea for the relationship.

D said "I don't care if you hang out with Former Favorite-Ex-Boyfriend" and I was like "It's not a good idea." He didn't understand why. I said "Because, Former- Favorite-Ex-Boyfriend and I had something really special, whatever it was, and when I talk to him I am reminded of it and it's not good for the relationship I am in now. This relationship is more important to me than having dinner with Former-Favorite-Ex-Boyfriend." D's like "But I don't care if you do" and I had to say "But I do and you have to just accept it."

D said "But it's important to me that I show my support to Ex-Girlfriend" and I wanted to be like "Doesn't she have other people to get support from?"

Why is this so important?

Blah. I am an irrational loser.

What do you think?

Legs

Does anyone know why people cross their legs while sitting?

Is this something that's been socialized or does it provide some sort of biological function?

D argues that it's biological. I think its social. He said "But I cross my legs when I am by myself." I said "But why?"

He said nothing.

Anyone? Anyone?

Sheets

I nearly broke my back this morning dropping off 20 pounds of laundry for someone else to do for me.

All I need now is a small dog to put in my bag and the transformation to New Yorker will be complete.

More to come when my brain has resumed normal functionality.

Dogs

Why must people in NYC bring their dogs to work and then bring their dogs in the elevator, thus causing all of the people to be squished up against the sides of the elevators, while the dog runs around freely?

Why?

The Kid From Third Rock From the Sun....

... got hot.

I went to see Mysterious Skin last night.

It was difficult but good.

Prostitution on film is never easy. I was thinking, though, that there's this whole element of people who are into this sort of thing and I have no idea who they are or how they know about their options.

In movies, people always seem to just "know" who is a prostitute. And they're like "Hey, you, I'll pay $50." Like how do they know? Is it really just writing on bathroom walls? Is there some signal I don't know about it?

Nevertheless, Joseph Gordon-Levitt is beautiful. The movie was challenging. It dealt with a horrific subject matter in a non-melodramatic and interesting way. It was understated and sentimental without being cheesy.

I don't know if you should see it. It drains you. It hurts. It's lovely.

I am going to get my hair cut now so I can look cute for N's first wedding this weekend!

There Are No....

... hipsters in my building!

In fact, there are no hipsters anywhere near my building.

My area is very old timey.

There are ancient, charming people who I imagine have many stories living in my building.

I love New York again.

When You Live Alone....

... you have to get the mail every day.

Crazy.

I Now Live in Manhattan Part 3 - The Aftermath

3. The Aftermath

I actually feel quite settled.

I need many things, but all of the essentials are taken care of. Tonight I will go to Pier 1 to return the oversized silverware tray and will buy plates and bowls and glasses. I need a kitchen table and chairs and perhaps a love seat. I need a kitchen cart and a colander and a toaster oven. I need a more aesthetically pleasing alarm clock. I need tupperware. I need reasonable groceries.

I woke up early yesterday because I was excited. I made lists and unpacked shoes while D unpacked books and videos and CDs. His goal is to eliminate boxes. Whatever he wants is fine with me as long as progress is being made.

I took my first shower in the new apartment yesterday. It was an adventure. At first it wouldn't get hot, then it was too hot, then it was freezing. The shower curtain, which is too small, kept smothering me because I'd opened the bathroom window for a cross draft. This left me with about a millimeter of width in which to shower. Another good thing about being small is that you can take showers in ridiculously tight spaces. Although, I did drop the soap this morning and it was not easy to pick up, but I did not have to step outside of the shower to do so.

D and I went to Home Depot and bought shelving and brackets and other goodies.

We then went for breakfast at this adorable place on 9th and 35th that serves breakfastallday and had a special involving scrambled eggs with cream cheese and scallions! Yes!

We then headed out to Brooklyn to see the Basquiat show at the Brooklyn Museum. I was very tired and the show was overwhelming. Any Basquiat painting or drawing in a group of other work is a superstar. An entire show of Basquiat is a bit much to handle, especially when you're tired. You could look at one of his paintings for five hours. It's hard to digest 100 of them in an hour and a half.

After Basquiat, we headed back into the city where we went to Bed, Bath and Beyond and bought more fabulous things such as a curtain and curtain rod for my bedroom, bathroom shelves, and hooks for the kitchen. I went to The Container Store afterwards, my new favorite place on the planet, and bought a reasonably sized silverware tray and some other space saving miracles.

After our errands, we saw Kingdom of Heaven at the 34th Street Theater, which is a 5 minute walk from my new apartment. Orlando Bloom. Yes. I said "If Orlando Bloom played Anakin Skywalker the world would be a better place." It was surprisingly good. I had no desire to see it but D, a fan of all movies epic, really wanted to. It is weird to me that back-in-the-day, kings would just fight battles with the troops, and seemingly without extra protection. I wish W had to do that. If he did, I imagine things would be very different.

Back at the apartment, we put up shelves and hooks and I cleaned the floor with the new wet-jet-whatever-thing (not Swiffer - I forget what it is) I bought at Home Depot.

We finished watching Star Wars while eating Mint Chocolate Cookie and then went to bed.

Phew.

Busy. But feeling settled, which is not a feeling I've felt since moving to NYC.

Tonight we will put up more shelves and organize books on them. If ambitious, we will hang things on the wall. If not, we will watch episodes of The Muppet Show on DVD.

Regardless, we will have fun in the new apartment because it is an awesome apartment. And it is all mine.

Mwa ha ha!!!!!

I Now Live in Manhattan Part 2 - The Unpacking

Just got off the phone with worst health-insurance provider on the planet. In addition to the potential $850 I found I may owe for the kidney stone surgery I didn't have, I may owe even more money because they are claiming I have a pre-existing condition and that I was uninsured prior to having this particular insurance.

Obviously I was insured. Obviously I will be able to prove this, since I was insured.

It's just annoying since things need not be this difficult. And costly. I hate my health insurance. I hate health insurance in general. I hate that I have to pay all sorts of deductibles and for all sorts of procedures that were once covered by my monthly premiums.

Nevertheless....

2. The Unpacking

While I was meeting the piano movers, D stayed behind to hold down the fort and to do adorable things like unpack the kitchen boxes and move around the remaining boxes so as to clear an appropriate trajectory for the piano.

He couldn't put the bed together because the bed suffered a freight elevator-related injury. The frame was stacked against the wall, so that when the elevator went between floors it basically hit the wall, and, at times, got pulled up and nearly smooshed between the elevator and wall. I can't quite understand why the superintendent said "Grab your bed" instead of saying "Let me stop the elevator for a second while you grab your bed." I grabbed the pieces of the frame that I could and nearly broke my arm in the process. Luckily the frame (and my arm) didn't break. We both came away with cuts and bruises, and a piece of the frame got pulled off of the wood and all of the screws went missing.

D and I went to the hardware store to buy screws, a drill bit and sand paper. We then grabbed a late lunch and headed back to the new apartment, where D did things like sand down the bathroom and where I made the following discoveries:

1. Free internet! YES! I don't know the owner of the wireless connection I am using, but they are my new favorite person on the planet.

2. My clothes all fit in my closet!

3. My apartment has expanded in size with the addition of "stuff."

4. My stove is too small for the baking sheets I own.

5. My new silverware tray is too big for the drawer.

6. The Brita was too tall for anywhere in the refrigerator, although that was remedied by moving the refrigerator across the kitchen in order to remove a shelf.

7. My former kitchen shelves look perfect as an entertainment center.

8. My toilet is really low and my bathroom sink is really high.

9. My shower curtain is too short.

10. I am a much better packer than I give myself credit for.

When we got home, I did fun things like organize my clothes by color in the new closet. D, who slipped back into perfect-boyfriend-mode, sandpapered the bathroom and swept and unpacked boxes. Together we hooked up the TV and DVD player and VCR and stereo and Ipod.

Putting the bed together proved more difficult than we'd imagined. The preexisting holes in the frame were apparently drilled arbitrarily, which may or may not explain why my bed squeaks if you look at it too long.

Amidst the bed reassembly I realized I was completely and utterly exhausted. I couldn't function. My body was aching and I just completely shut down. As soon as we got the bed together, which took about an hour, I hastily threw sheets on it and we meant to take a nap.

D then went back to work on the bathroom while I dealt more with clothes and bedroom-related tasks. He left to do whatever D does when he is alone and I stayed behind and unpacked and organized kitchen things, bathroom things, bedding, and more clothes.

I then went to buy groceries which, in typical NY form, proved challenging. There seems to be only one market within a 5 block radius, and they don't have things like fruit. They don't have any cereal I like. They only have meat-flavored sauce. They do, however, have Ben and Jerry's Mint Chocolate Cookie ice cream, which I suppose is all that matters.

On my way home M called and left a message asking about the move, in which she said "You're probably asleep." I laughed because I really wanted to be asleep.

I got home and made myself a peanut butter sandwich which I promptly ate while sitting on the floor. I talked with my parents and was psyched that my mother received her flowers and candy while on the phone with me! Woo hoo!!!!

D came back and we unpacked a bit more, inflated the air mattress, grabbed some throw pillows and watched as much of Attack of the Clones as we could before passing out. The last thing I remember is "I killed them all!"

Random Aside

My new lab notebook's number is the zip code of the town I grew up in!

Will the insanity ever cease?

I Now Live in Manhattan Part 1 - The Move

Madness.

My commute into work this morning was 25 mintues. Only 25 minutes! I took my sweet time. Looked around. Looked futilely for a potential spot at which to buy groceries.

I shall divide this post into three segments:

1. The Move
2. The Unpacking
3. The Aftermath

1. The Move

At 7:45 am on Saturday, D arrived, focused, to take the bed apart. I began dragging things to the freight elevator. At 7:55, the movers I'd hired via Craigslist arrived. They proceeded to get lost in the building, as everyone does, and then appeared, ready for action. These men were the pinnacle of efficiency. Each would carry, no joke, 5 huge boxes of books at once. They couldn't even see what they were doing, yet they carried these boxes without drama. At about 8:10 Bench Buddy arrived, and I was like "Dude, we're practically DONE."

Two trips down the freight elevator and the truck was loaded. I think this entire process took 45 minutes. The superintendant was actually friendly, and informed me that we'd have been kicked out of the building at the end of July anyway. They are going to turn it into condos - gut out the inside and build an atrium so that all of the units will have windows on two sides, build a pool, a gym on each floor. They are also going to build 4 more luxury highrises on the waterfront. I am glad I got out of there before I was (a) kicked out and (b) part of this horrid redevelopment.

These movers were INSANE. They packed my stuff in the truck in the most efficient, organized manner. They compacted it to what seemed to be 1/10 the original volume. I thought "Huh, apparently I don't have any stuff."

We piled into the truck - D and I in the front with Bench Buddy between us, and the two movers in the back. We hit traffic. Lots of it. D was a stress case and I was worried about the dudes in the back, but soon we were at the new apartment. There was the part where my key to the building no longer fit in the lock and where I had a panic and started buzzing all of the apartments in the hopes that someone would let us in. Luckily the super was home (she is the most adorable little old lady you have ever met) and rushed me new key to the recently fixed lock in which most people's keys no longer worked. Within 45 minutes the truck was empty.

Two hours total. Two hours total, with a traffic jam! These movers reaffirmed my faith in the human race. They could have dragged the move out since they were being paid by the hour, but they didn't. They did a wonderful, efficient, stress-free job. I think I carried maybe a total of 15 boxes. D and Bench Buddy were very helpful as well.

It was awesome.

I was convinced, given how smoothly it went, that something would happen with the piano. "It won't fit. They will drop it. They will put it in the truck and drive off with it. It's going to be a disaster." I've been having such a string of bad luck as of late, so I knew something would go wrong.

I went back to Williamsburg and ran an errand, picked up Last Bagel from The Bagel Store, and walked back to The Loft. As soon as I walked in, I got a call on my cell from the piano movers who were stuck in the stairwell because they'd taken the wrong elevator. Immaculate timing. Five minutes later the piano was outside the building after being transported in the passenger elevator.

They said "We didn't have lunch. We want a bagel." I rode with them in the truck - sitting between them on the truck bed which was made of plywood - and went back to the Bagel Store. We ate the bagels in the truck and then headed into the city. Our plan was foiled by "No Trucks on the Williamsburg Bridge," so we had to take the Manhattan Bridge.

Our plan was further foiled by a flea market that was most likely not the Hell's Kitchen Flea Market.

When we got to the new apartment, one of the mover's said "You want us to get it through this door?" when he saw the entrace to my apartment. I'd measured the doorway, but I hadn't accounted for the fact that the door doesn't open all the way due to a weird wall angle in the kitchen. I scrambled for the tape measure and said "Umm... I really think it will fit." He said "Well, I guess we'll bring it up and see what happens."

Of course. Of course!

I said "Hypothetically, let's just, like, pretend for a second. If it didn't fit, what would happen?"

They laughed.

These guys were great. They were hilarious and unique and told me all sorts of stories about piano moving and carried my piano up the stairs in about half an hour. There were grunts and screams and scrambling, but they got it in there and helped me decide where to put it. And also presented to me my next creative project, which I will begin as soon as things settle down in the new apartment.

And then it was finished, and D and I were left alone in the new apartment.

Smooth

I am posting this from my new apartment, wherein I am hooked up to a mystery neighbor's internet connection!

Life is good, folks.

Good good good.

The move went as smooth as it possibly could have.

D was a rockstar boyfriend.

I feel like this place is supposed to be my apartment.

I am not at all unpacked. Did some cleaning, put together the bed with much strife, basically assembled the bedroom, went grocery shopping for staples and realized that local "market" does not have staples such as any sort of cereal that I find edible, watched Star Wars Episode II with D, went to bed and couldn't sleep due to thinking about unpacked boxes and city sounds (note to self: purchase white noise maker) and things to do. So many things to do.

But I am in my new apartment, living alone, in Manhattan.

I'll write more later when there isn't much to do.

One thing, though. My apartment, thankfully, falls into the category of "Apartments That Seem Bigger With Stuff In Them."

YES.

You must all visit.

What Did People Do Before the Internet?

I'll tell you what they DIDN'T do. They most certainly DID NOT sell their lava lamp via Craigslist. No sir!

I just sold my lava lamp for $15, and while the people were here buying it, I convinced them to buy my pink lamp for $10 and Roommate's Papasan chair for $20. And they want my red IKEA cabinet and will pick it up on Sunday!

Good thing we're all mad at D and are not hanging out with him tonight, because if we were, we'd be $25 poorer and begging strangers to buy our stuff on Craigslist!

All I Needed....

... last night was a decent meal and a good night's sleep.

I got neither.

A bunch of us went out for drinks at the Fat Black Pussy Cat for Cinco De Mayo. Given my stress level as of late, one might say that I drank a bit too much. I won't apologize. I deserved it!

I could have had more to drink, but D exclaimed "I want to go" so I said "Ummm... ok? I guess?"

We left and D said "What do you want for dinner?" Oh, the things I wanted for dinner! I haven't been eating right/enough lately what with stress and the desire to consume all of the food in my apartment so as not to have to throw away or transport it. This has made for weird meals such as cereal with a side of Cheez-Its, and far too many peanut butter sandwiches on slightly bad bread with slightly bad peanut butter. Tonight? Waffles!

Anyway, I said "How about pizza? Or Thai? Or Indian!!! Or ITALIAN! I want raviolis!" Starving, folks, because, again, haven't had much time for lunches these days and dinners have been abominations. D said "Well, actually, I was hoping to not have to buy anything. You know."

OK. "How about an omelette?" he said, to which I said "No, I had an omelette for lunch," because I'd had an omelette for lunch because my body was crumbling and when you order an omelette you get all sorts of nourishment - protein, carbs, pickles on the side.

"What about crepes?" I suggested, since he's been dying to try his new crepe pan from Reading Terminal Market. He found that agreeable until I said "But can we not do chocolate ones? I need real sustenance." He said "Well, what would you put in them?" I said "Spinach? Vegetables? Cheese!" He said "I don't have any vegetables and I don't really want to buy them. Buying vegetables would be like eating out."

"Ummmm. OK."

The subject was dropped and when we left he started heading towards the supermarket, and I was like "Where are we going?" and he was like "To get vegetables?" and I was like "No! We can come up with something!" I knew he didn't want to do it, and who am I to suggest my boyfriend do something he doesn't want to do?

I said "I really want raviolis" and D said "Oh! I have cheese tortellini!"

YES!

We got back to his place and he started making the tortellini. Shortly thereafter, the room began to spin. Shortly after that, I was lying on D's bed thinking "This must be what vertigo is like - how awful!" when D said "So remember how I was telling you that the last time I ate these it was the worst meal of my life? I still haven't decided if it was the sauce or the tortellini."

I said "D, I think I'm just going to get a bagel or something" and he was like "No! I promise it won't be bad this time."

Heh.

Worst thing ever. Definitely the tortellini. I would side against room temperature cheese on any given day, especially cheese that claims to be ricotta but clearly is not. Vile. I had three of them and gave up and ended up not eating dinner.

Not good. Not good at all. I am very, very, very hungry right now.

I thought "Well, at least not eating dinner might help me to sleep, right? I'll just pass out! It will be lovely!" D's mother called, he ate, and I did fall asleep! Bliss!

Until D said "LEAH! There was this other thing I wanted to tell you... wah wah wah wah wah wah..." No idea what he said because I'd passed out, and because all I could hear was "I realize you haven't had a good night's sleep in at least a week, and I see you sleeping right there, so I thought I'd wake you up and tell you something inconsequential!"

So that was that. About 5 minutes later (and, folks, be made aware that this is all happening at around 9:45) D was curled up beside me passed out himself, snoring. And I was wide awake because he'd woken me up, and I was becoming increasingly cross with the snoring. And I was cross because he'd refused to set the alarm, because he said "Dude, we're going to get SO MUCH SLEEP. There's no way I'm not going to wake up." Uh-huh. Right. If I don't get into work at 8:00 my piano is not going to be moved, if my piano is even going to be moved. Ergh. The snoring. The hunger.

All irrational. All totally and completely irrational.

I got up and realized that I was in prison. I kept thinking "I am neither sleeping nor eating nor packing. This is not good."

I don't know how couples can live in a studio. No idea. I kept thinking "I wish there was somewhere else for me to go! Where am I supposed to go? I am wide awake and am freaking out and he's dead asleep and peaceful."

My stress level as of late is through the roof. Lots going on and feeling like I am all alone in the world. I thought "Shit, if there was another room, I'd call some friends who actually want to talk to me right now, unlike my boyfriend who has passed out and is preventing me from sleeping and eating" or "I could watch TV in another room if there was another room!" or "I could go through D's books and read one of them, except I can't because I can't turn on the light in this studio because he is asleep!"

I wish I'd been coherent enough to think "Ah ha! D is asleep! I can LEAVE and either get a meal or go home and pack and then sleep there!" But no. I was all emo and stressed and wanting desperately to sleep.

I did think "If I went back to Brooklyn now, I could be in bed by 11:30 but I'd
have to get up at 6:45 in order to get into work by 8:00. If I stay here, maybe
I'll fall asleep a bit later but I'll be able to get up later because I am 5 minutes from work."

Ah, the rational ways of insomniacs. These seemed like legitimate arguments at 10:00.

I decided to pretend that D's bathroom was the living room, so I hooked up the space heater, put it on the toilet bowl, turned it on, sat on the tiled floor and started to make phone calls. RR was out celebrating Cinco de Mayo, so I thought "Who is of great comfort to me? Who can I say 'Dude, I'm drunk and tired and stressed' to and will not be like 'Dude, stop worrying!'?" M!

I called M and she gave me good advice. She said "What you need to do is imagine someone - or yourself - writing the number 100 on a chalk board and then imagine them looking at it and then slowly erasing it. Then, repeat but with 99. It has to be boring. It's a variant on counting sheep."

GENIUS.

I spoke with her for a bit and then said "M, thanks for the advice. I shall try this right now!" By then I think it was probably 10:30.

I went back to bed and was hoping for D to be awake and for him to ask me how I was doing but no. Dead asleep.

I crawled onto his bed and closed my eyes and pictured a chalk board.

OK.

I knew what to do.

I am walking up to the chalk board and I am going to write the number 100.

Except that instead of writing on the chalk board, I pulled out a cup of a banana pudding from a brown bag and ate it.

Shit.

Try again. Think chalk. Only this time, I approached the chalk board and ate Pad Thai.

NO!

Think think think. Concentrate.

Write on the chalk board. Don't think about food.

Numbers.

Boring numbers.

Good yummy garlic bread!

NOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I decided that this method wasn't useful to me since it required so much concentration to just even think about numbers that there was no way I was going to be able to sleep. I was curious as to whether I could think of 100 items of food, but realized that was just a guarantee to be awake forever.

Crap.

Hours passed and sleep did not come. I was doing the typical insomniac manuever of "If I fall asleep right now, I'll get 7 hours! That's totally enough! I mean, I haven't gotten more than 4 hours in forever, so 7 will seem like tons compared to that! And then I'll go in and work with radioactivity at the crack of dawn and then stay up all night tomorrow night packing and then get up at 6 on Saturday and I'll be fucking fine fine fine!" Except this was all conjecture, since D doesn't believe in clocks. Every now and then I'd turn on my cell phone just to see what time it was. It was always discouraging, especially given that I could have conceivably gone to bed at 9:30 and gotten 10 hours of sleep if someone didn't feel compelled to wake me up.

At around 12:30 I thought "OK, 7 hours. I can get 7 hours. This needs to work. It's been about an hour and a half since the chalk board thing and maybe its about time we give this another try!"

I decided that the best way to do it would be to think of someone else at the chalk board, and it would be someone who wasn't starving to death and someone who hasn't lost 5 pounds this week.

My delirious mind conjured up the chalk board, and a man approached. "He's going to write 100, I just know it!" I thought. And he did! And then he turned around and revealed himself to be Colin Farrell.

Meeeeowwwww! Colin Farrell, hottttt. Oh yes, Colin Farrell, write 99! Just don't face me again because I can't think about numbers when you are in the room. How can I think about chalk at a time like this, when you keep looking at me coyly?

Oh, my post-drunk mind. WHY!?!??!?!

I thought "This is fucking ridiculous. Why Colin Farrell? Where did he come from? OK. Think of someone who looks really bland. Someone really boring. Right. Someone who will make you tired just thinking about them!"

Thom Yorke. Yes. Thom Yorke will put me to sleep. His droopy eyes will convince me that I am tired! His lethargic ways. Yes.

It worked, and I was almost falling asleep. I think I remember him getting to 92, looking all sullen and taxed. Perfect representation of how I was feeling. Perhaps this is the key to the chalk board game. Pick someone to go to the board who suits your mood.

But, of course, I woke up again.

I think, though, that I got about 4 hours.

And I am psyched that I woke up at about 5:00 and realized that there was no way in fuck D was going to get up at 7:30 on his own, so I set my cell phone.

Thankfully, because did he get up? No.

He said "How did you sleep?" and I said "Not at all" and he said nothing. And then he started singing some stupid song and I wanted to sing a song about how irrational it is to be jealous of people who sleep and how insomniacs must want to kill people who have gotten 9 hours of sleep and who have enough energy to sing stupid songs at 7:30 am.

But I didn't, because I have no energy. Because I haven't slept. Or eaten. And I have lots of work to do. And might be having a piano moved. And definitely have to pack for hours tonight. And then have to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow.

It will all be over tomorrow.

I will have sheets on my bed in my new apartment and a towel over my bedroom window and I will sleep like the dead.

Incidentally, I had the following waking dream last night while trying to sleep:

I was at a show and it turned out that Eugene Mirman was headlining. There was some sort of drama with getting tickets, but somehow we had them. At the end of the show, Eugene Mirman came up to me and was like "Hey - I know you! Thanks for coming! How do I know you?" In the dream I was hot for Eugene Mirman and was all flustered by his talking to me. I was like "Well, I went to school in western MA. I think you did, too?" He was like "Yeah, but you look familiar. I feel like I know you." I said "Well, yeah, funny, I was actually in a talent show with you. Ummm. Not that I have any talent, but yeah. I think that's how you know me." He was like "Oh! YEAH! I remember. You were good. You were cute." I got all awkward, mainly because D was standing right behind me and I wanted to be like "Oh, please, you shouldn't... but please... go on...." Minutes later, after he had gone on and was telling me that I had a good voice etc., his girlfriend, a gorgeous and tall model-type appeared. I thought "Further evidence that funny men who aren't particularly hot get really hot chicks" and "Shit, of COURSE he has a girlfriend." I was nice, and said "What do you do?" and then she started to sing. Amazing voice. She said "I'm an opera singer." And I felt like shit. She said "What do you do?" and I said "Nothing."

The Last Time

Knowing that you're doing something for the last time is really sad.

Seeing someone that you know you're seeing for the last time is even more sad.

Most of the time, you don't know that what you're doing is the last time you'll do it. Or, you don't know that the conversation you're having with someone is the last time you'll ever speak to them. Or, you're somewhere and you don't think to think "This is the last time I'll ever be here."

That's sad too, but at least you get to be happy and normal during those last times.

Ignorance is bliss.

I am thinking about the last time I saw The Sandwich Who Shall Not Be Named and I am thinking "Man, if I had known that would be the last time things would have been so different." There are things that are huge parts of your life that just disappear without your having had a say.

I guess knowing things are going to disappear suggests a certain amount of power over a situation. That doesn't, however, make things easier.

Most of the last time things I am doing this week aren't enough to make me sad. This morning I thought "This is the last time I'll ever take a shower in The Loft!" and then thought "Huh. Interesting."

Last night I said "Wait! D! This is the last time we're ever going to be sleeping in The Loft together!" He had no response to its being the last time. I was like "But D, this is the location of the first time! This is where it all began! You were the first person I met in NY who set foot in The Loft! You were here riding Roommate's bike around the loft during my second week here! This is where you put up the post-it note on my wall that said 'Kiss D' after Bench Buddy's party! This is where you first said 'I love you!'" He then said "Huh. I guess it just hasn't hit me."

I have to admit that I don't have much sentimental attachment to The Loft. I always knew it was temporary. But I am attached to the little things that happened there, such as the previously mentioned post-it note. Things like RR coming down for the karaoke party, my entire family being able to stay with me at the same time, Roommate's Cat, D and I giggling and getting-to-know-each-other on the couch on New Year's Eve, M's suggestions for shelf systems, bitching to N and RR all night long while it snowed outside, LBF and I creeping around while an unwanted Canadian slept in my bed, cooking dinner with PW, talking to Sister all morning about how weird death is, wondering if DirectTV interfered with my cell phone reception, drinking wine in the early days with Roommate when New York was new and things were overwhelming.

Things are still overwhelming. I haven't settled in at all. The new apartment will be a good opportunity to feel settled and feel like myself. I haven't felt like myself since I moved here. This is most likely because there hasn't been time. Hopefully having a new apartment in the city and having time to myself will remind me of why I've chosen this.

Anyway, melodrama aside, I took the L to work this morning for the last time. No more L! Life is good. I basically skipped to the subway, waving to all of the places I'll miss but that can be visited. Ah, Asian/Organic supermarket with the sesame sticks, I will miss you but I will be back! Ah, adorable boutique with the fabulous clothes I cannot afford, you will torture me no more! Ah, Relish! We will meet again! Oh, Anytime, I wish you would deliver to Manhattan. Sigh.

So I walked down the stairs of the L and nearly burst into tears, because I'd forgotten about my favorite subway musicians! I listened and tried to hold it together. They are the cutest things ever - older white gentleman who wears a black winter hat and black jacket and plays violin and looks Italian but is probably Russian playing with an adorable little (Mexican?) man with a pot belly who plays classical guitar and who never stops smiling. They play together a few times a week at the Bedford Ave. stop and they are amazing. They love what they do and dance and nod as the riders walk by. I would pay all sorts of money to see them non-subway-style. They are happiness.

I wrote down their names. I wanted to buy their CDs to commemorate The Last Time but the train came and I didn't want to interrupt them.

I almost wish I hadn't seen them, because then I could think back to the last time I saw them and be nostalgic instead of dramatic.

Sigh.

Now I'm sad about potato knishes at Pita Power. When was my last one? I don't know!

Today

I....

1. ...am thinking "It's good to be small because nobody ever asks you to help them move!"

2. ...am thrilled to have seen a mid-40's man walking down the street carrying a bag in his right hand and shaving his head with his left hand. Seriously. Walking at a completely normal rate whilst shaving his head with an electric razor.

3. ...am wondering "What do normal people do when told by a doctor 'You have cancer'?" Am betting they don't think "Huh."

4. ...am officially feeling like a grown-up for the first time in my life because I considered my response to #3 realistically for the first time in my life. Have decided that the sudden realization of mortality is a part of adulthood.

5. ...am glad that I don't have to realistically consider my response to the question posed in #3 but

6. ...am wondering, if I did have to respond to the statement in #3, how to change the response from "Huh" to "I know exactly what I will do with my last moments" or "I know exactly who I will spend my last moments with" or "I will kick the ass of cancer because I have so much to live for!"

7. ...am getting psyched about NetFlix and can't wait to construct an elaborate spreadsheet detailing all of the movies I need to see.

8. ...am wishing for a world without deductibles, because in a world without deductibles, I could have cable for a year instead.

9. ...am wondering why everyone in the world wants to buy my bookshelves but nobody wants my fabulous pink lampshade from Miami.

10. ...am wondering how I am working, well, how I am even awake, given that I am the most tired I've ever been in my life.

11. ...am thinking about Martin Short, who was in class last night. Am thinking about his philosophy of success, and think that I might employ the Martin-Short-Method of life assessment. It involves a report card. I think its a great idea, but my grades-to-be are already scaring me. Am thinking Martin Short would be a good writer of a self-help book.

12. ...am thinking that it is INSANE that another person at work has exactly what D had a few months back. Am wishing I was a member of the CDC and could track this virus or bacteria to the source and STOP IT! Am paranoid that this suggests that I could, ahem, contract it. Am thrilled by the fact that someone has indicated that "other people have reported similar symptoms." Outbreak! It could be a freak coincidence, but really. How exciting.

13. ...am hungry.

14. ...am procrastinating lunch for some reason.

15. ...am wondering what to rename "MyMundaneLifeInSong.com" given that I have sold my keyboard to afford moving the piano, which means that there will be no music! Well, there could be music, and then an internet cafe to post music. Any ideas? MyMundaneLifeInBlog? I don't know. Brain... has... ceased... functioning....

16. ...am annoyed by feeling that I have been reduced to a person who only packs, coordinates moves, and gets medical tests. I feel boring. I feel like I haven't had fun in ages. I feel like I am only dates and times and phone calls and confirmations and planning. I want to just go to a movie. Or see the Basquiat show. Or walk around aimlessly instead of in search of CD envelopes.

17. ...am mystified as to how Best Buy has sold out of CD envelopes! I have converted to a new system for CD storage that I am excited about (although not as excited as I was yesterday after D said last night when he said "I don't like the way it looks. I am going to make my own," which made me feel like I am without taste and also without function and made me feel like I wanted to cry) but that requires CD envelopes. I don't like the paper ones. Makes me nervous. Scratches. No good! I want the cloth-y ones. You know the kind. Anyway, I did a pilot of this system last Tuesday on my way to class - bought one container, bought one set of envelopes (I toyed with buying many envelopes but thought "Well, what if I hate it? Plus, they have about 50 BOXES OF ENVELOPES, so I can just come back whenever and buy tons of them"), went home on Wednesday and decided "Yes! This is good for now." I ordered more boxes online (because Best Buy had only one in stock) and then went back for envelopes on Sunday. There were NONE! Seriosly, there were TONS OF THEM on Tuesday. I bought three boxes of rainbow ones (hideous, but literally all they had) and decided to go back last night after the restocking I was convinced would occur. Again, NONE. Weird.

18. ...am certain there is a counterpart of me out there in NYC who had the exact same "Eureeka!" moment about his CD's as I did at the exact same moment, and went back on Saturday and bought 5000 CD envelopes. I don't know if I should hate him or love him. I think love.

19. ...am now really hungry and am going to go to lunch.

20. ...am sad I couldn't think of 20 things. Boring boring boring moving-doctor's-appointment-robot. Awful.

Pots On!

I am so tired.

I haven't had a good night's sleep in ages.

This is of particular concern as I will be starting to move at 8am on Saturday and up all night Friday packing for said move. I will be out on Thursday night consuming much-needed drinks for R's birthday. Tomorrow night - packing! And hopefully selling some stuff that I posted on Craigslist. Tonight - class, and possibly Bed, Bath, and Beyond, because suddenly I am concerned about things like curtains and colanders.

If I pull this off I will be amazed.

All sorts of drama with movers and piano movers and freight elevaotors and work and shelves and measurements and ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am very tired today because I went to see Eugene Mirman and some other comics at Pianos last night for their recording of a CD/DVD for Comedy Central.

Yes, folks, Eugene Mirman. You read that right!

Some of you are thinking "Eugene Mirman... that sounds familiar... how do I know...."

YES! It is the VERY SAME EUGENE MIRMAN who was featured in the very same Orgy of Talents as Leah Lar way back in the day!

Yes, folks, picture it: the debut and demise of The Orchard Hillbillies. You might forget Eugene Mirman because you were too busy revelling in the Fleetwood-Mac-like-drama that plagued the Hillbillies backstage. Or, you may have been too busy singing along with "Ridin' on the City of New Orleee-ans...."

Or, you might remember Eugene Mirman because he was DAMN FUNNY.

He still is DAMN FUNNY. He has a bizarre sense of humor, which makes me damn happy. He has a weekly show in NYC. Awshummmm.

The show allegedly started at 8:00, and did not start until 9:00. It went until 11:30, and because I am old, I could not function. And of course we had to stop for Breadsticks at Domino's on the way home. And then had to hang out, because we hadn't seen each other since Friday!, which, as D said, really isn't that long, but it feels like forever.

I said "It's because we've gotten used to sharing our lives, so when we don't, it feels weird. And weirdness feels like eternity."

The show was great, though, and I have decided that all jobs should be like stand-up comedy.

For example, when I get into work in the morning, I should bring a beer with me into the lab. Then, as the day goes on, someone should just hand me beers when I am at the bench. Well, not beer for me, because I don't like beer. Maybe a glass of wine, and when I mess up an experiment, I'll shrug my shoulders and say "Man, this is a tough crowd" and pound the glass.

And, if someone is doing something stupid, I should be able to heckle them. I could say things like "YOU SUCK!" and throw a Kim Wipe at the guy in the next bay. That's the best I could do, because I suck at heckling because I think its mean. It would still be fun.

And when I mess up an experiment, I could just blame the fact that its "new material" that I haven't tried before, and everyone would laugh instead of getting all stressed out.

Yes.

As stressful as standup comedy must be, it has its perks.

OK. I'm off to Bed, Bath, and Beyond!!! which actually sounds somewhat sci-fi if you say it dramatically. Watch out, world, I am going to have my very own garlic press in an hour!!!

Moment of Silence....

... for Roommate's Cat, who is no longer with us.

I am strangely sad.

Hmmmmm.

Bye-bye, Loft

Roommate is on the phone, talking really loudly.

I am exhausted. I need sleep.

Instead I am up and blogging, because, well, she's loud.

Really, really, loud.

But you know what?

This is the last time, ever, that this will be a problem, because this is my Last Weekend In the Loft!

I am not feeling at all sentimental. I think its because I never settled in here, because I knew it was temporary.

I spent yesterday packing, and, again, felt nothing. When I moved out of Hall Street, every time I put something in a box I wanted to break down and weep. Everything had a memory attached to it, everything belonged there. I have no attachment to this place whatsoever. I think I've always felt like a poser here. Hopefully I'll feel like me in the new apartment.

And here, for your viewing pleasure, is the new apartment!!!!












I am very excited. Stressed, but excited. I don't have enough boxes. I am disorganized. I haven't sold everything. I haven't changed my address on things. I haven't cancelled cable. I haven't put up shelves. I don't have anything for anyone to sit on in the new place. I don't have anything, really. Sigh. Much to do.

I have, however, sold my keyboard for cash! I have hired two guys to help unload the truck. I have secured a truck although that means nothing. I have secured piano movers although I don't know when we're going to move the piano because the superintendent of my building will not call me back to tell me if/when I can use the freight elevator.

It's going to be fine, and soon I will be able to start feeling comfortable in NYC!