adventures in the flower district

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, step right up to hear the Adventures of The Fearless Duo in Let's Go to a Singles' Event!!!

Yeah, that's right, Thea and I went out last night to an event co-hosted by Absolut Vodka and Lavalife.

First off, they required that you register for this event. So Thea and I showed up, registered as Bob Williams and Cady Sanburg, respectively. Which might have been a problem had we shown up at 8, but by the time we got there, the guy at the front door was so harried that we just showed ourselves in. Little did we know, however, that the guy up front was the guy handing out the free drink tickets.

Luckily, Thea finagled us some drinks out of this guy near the bar, (hell, he wasn't paying for them) but just as soon as we got a drink, they cranked the music up so loud that you could only hold a conversation with someone by yelling directly into their eardrum. Which was really unfortunate for Thea, as the guy she scored the drinks from could have benefitted greatly from a piece of gum. Or a field of mint.

Armed with our free drinks, we worked the crowd -- not in Thea's LA-Style, which apparently involves flailing about and getting ugly looks from all the perfect people in the room, but by simply walking, and acting like Moses, if Moses were in a sea of five foot men. Five foot, unattractive men.

It was only ten minutes in, and already I wanted to leave.

We found Thea's friend from college, Mike, and gratefully chatted with (i.e., screamed at) him while the music got louder and louder. Thea went off to find the bathroom and came back with a lawyer. I sat in the corner and talked to a guy who works in the telecommunications industry who told me that "Snoop is coming to my friend's place later" and that the cellphone is my "remote control to the universe." He insisted on touching me a lot. I insisted on ignoring him after that.

While the noise level was extremely unpleasant, the company (other than Mike) a little dubious and the drinks strong, random and free, I actually had a good time, and learned some valuable lessons last night:

1. Vodka makes me surly. Red wine will open my heart so I love the world. Whiskey will make me stumbly and goofy. Tequila makes me want to smooch everything I see. But Vodka? It makes me want to yell at people and punch them in the head. I don't think I should drink it much anymore.

2. Peeing at McDonald's, while always a risky proposition, is a really good excuse to get a tasty parfait treat. (It's best to go to the McDonald'ses that aren't under construction, though. Hard to pee when there is no bathroom.)

3. I don't think I'm cut out for singles' events at loud bars. Meeting me there is like meeting me while I'm shopping at Bergdorf's -- it's a fluke, and you'll never catch me in that situation again, so how can you possibly meet the real me?

4. Thea is a true friend. Involved in as intimate a chat (i.e. screaming match) as she was with a cute lawyer (who had Hobbit ears), she looked at me, saw that I was surly, single and solo, and told the lawyer we had to leave. Didn't even take his number.

5. Thea and I may be single for a while. And truthfully, that's OK with me!

one last thing, and then I swear I'll drop it... (or at least I'll try)

Things seem to be getting worse with the neighbors, although this morning, they proved that they do, in fact, know how to close the door quietly, and just haven't been doing so all along. I pray to Jeff, the God of Doorknobs, that this low-level animosity between us keeps them turning that doorknob before closing the door. In truth, though, it seems too good to last.

Yesterday morning I left them a note that read:

I am BEGGING you, if it is before 8 a.m. or after midnight (i.e., especially 3 a.m. Friday night), please CLOSE THE DOOR QUIETLY. I don't expect you to live by my schedule, but I do ask that you show it some respect.

You know I would do the same for you.

Last night I came home to a typed letter that had been slipped under my door, reading:

Kate,

Got your 15th note and knocked on your door immediately as to be honest I can't take this anymore. [My husband] and I are not intentionally slamming the door and in fact have been mature about the fact that our new door is less than desirable and was installed during my only vacation this year. We can not help it when we have weddings, events or lives that lead us to return home late.

We are not trying to slam the door at specific times, we are living our lives. Most times that we have company you are ALWAYS on our minds and we modify the time or volume as your complaints have been so frequent.

We have also noticed the slamming of your door recently, which I can only assume is intentional or perhaps it is just that you are living your life and closing your door is part of it. Either way we WOULD NEVER COMPLAIN.

We are leaving the apartment on April 1, 2007 and realize this is quite a few months away but there will finally be an end to this one sided situation. A cupcake simply didn't do the trick for me when part of our lives was disrupted and the overall appearance of our place altered.

We will do our best to live around your sleeping patterns (i.e. try not to breathe at any time that won't work for you) if you could please LEAVE US ALONE!

As you can tell from the tone of this letter, I am beyond sick of getting complaints after a HARD day of work. Many people in this building make noise but we would NEVER complain. We all pay rent and unless we are intentionally arguing, screaming in the hall or playin gmusic etc. etc, we should be allowed to live our lives.

Please knock if you want to chat about this further, as I initially knocked on your door to discuss this face to face.

If not good luck with your new neighbors in April or May, I hope they will work out better for your routine.

Best,
Angry Non-slammington

While I'm sorely tempted to comment on this letter, truthfully, I think it speaks for itself. Obviously we're both victims, and think our side is more important. But what they don't understand is that, while my behavior makes them angry, their behavior makes me angry... and it wakes me up.

And to clarify... a) I've only ever complained about the noise level of a party of theirs once, and it was 12:30 at night on a school night and all I did was tell them I was going to bed, and b) I haven't heard anyone else in the building (besides the stupid dog, obviously) make any noise.

poetry slam

Odes to my hateful neighbors, who drive me crazy, and make me want to kill them.

I've got these crap neighbors next door,
One of whom is a door-slamming whore.
Slams it early or late
With no thought for poor Kate --
Oh, I hate them right down to my core!

3 a.m. I'm awake in my bed
Sounds of slamming reverb in my head
Through the door to 3L
Live the neighbors from hell
And I think they'd be better off dead.

To them I cried and begged and pleaded
But my wishes for quiet were ne'er heeded.
With sheer heartless disdain
They ignored me again
A drastic rent hike for them is what's needed

Every day I'm awake 'fore my time
Just to sleep would be oh so sublime
But they slam every door
With loud stomping galore
They're the bastards of 329!

When they leave their apartment the floor shakes
I can only imagine each board quakes
And with every door slam
To myself I say, "Damn,
I regret ever baking them doorcakes!"

"animal" crackers

I fully admit to playing with my food, but I may have gone too far today.

On my way to meet up with Thea this afternoon for our jaunt to (get this) Ye Olde Renaissance Faire at Forte Tryon Parke (i.e. Ye Olde Cloisters) (yea, I jest not, tho' I wish I did), the F train was doing some festive footwork, so I had extra time to kill at the Hoyt-Schermerhorn stop. I was hungry, and started to munch on the animal crackers I had brought along as a snack. All of a sudden, gazing upon these tasty treats, I realized that they don't bear anything resembling a resemblance to any animal I have ever seen in my life.

Animal crackers are supposed to be circus animals. I'd really like to see a circus of these creatures.

Hippo?

Horse? Zebra?
Camel?Buffalo?
Deer?Antelope?
This one is the most baffling. Monkey? Big cat?

So then I got even mroe bored... Hppo Parade.
"I'm sorry, this club is for Deer/Antelope only. No Buffaloes/Camels allowed!"

noah cracks me up... again

Want to laugh? Visit baggypantsandbravado, my friend Noah Smith's blog. He's got his top jokes for SNL posted there, and they crack me up. A few of my favorites:

Republican strategist Karl Rove has said that the American electorate is in a "sour" mood at the moment. This is probably because they've discovered their president is a lemon.

President Bush threw out the opening pitch Monday at Cincinnati's Great American Ball Park, but the pitch was high and inside, two words that also describe George W. Bush during Vietnam.
An Italian judge ruled that it is not necessarily hate speech to call someone a "dirty negro." But, still, Crayola really should find a new name for that color crayon.

And my favorite: It was reported this week that Maggie Gyllenhaal and Peter Sarsgaard are expecting their first child and plan to marry soon. The couple is registered at Taarget.

Noah is a genius, but he seems to have really mastered this format. Many kudos to you, my friend!

firsts and lasts

These were snatched from Bon, who nabbed them from Susan

Everyone has their Firsts:
First Real Best Friend: Amy Gabriele. But then, in fourth grade, she became friends with Beth Robinson, and in the middle of reading class she passed me a note that said "Shut Up Fat Four Eyes!" I think we stayed friends even after that.

First Cell Phone: A crappy Motorola, kind of like this one:

First Funeral: Grandpa Burl. He was always such a joker that everyone expected him to sit up in his casket and yell "Surprise" but both were unlikely, especially after that last stroke.

First Pet: Sunshine. She was a guinea pig. Which makes my porn name really good -- Sunshine Messenger!

First Big Trip: No idea. Probably that road trip to Florida where I got herpes all over the inside of my mouth and my mom said I didn't stop wailing for almost all 24 hours of the trip. Bet that was so much fun!

First Fight: I'm sure it was with my sister, and I'm sure I lost.

First Celebrity Crush:

First Time Out of the Country: Switzerland. I had altitude sickness and jet lag and barfed all over my mom in a fondue/yodeling restaurant, and when she went to wash off her sweater, they only had one of those rotating cloth towels for her to dry off with. Total disaster. And the ONE day I ended up skiing, I could not, for the life of me, master a pommel lift, and ended up face first in the snow amidst hundreds of pre-pubescent Swiss kids shouting "Hello America! Hamburger!"

First Myspace Friend: Techincally, Tom. But realistically, Christina

Everyone has their Lasts:

Last Person You Hugged: David N., Faux Bike Messenger Extraordinnaire. (who knew I dug that look?)

Last Car Ride: In Robin's car, on the way from the Greenwood Cemetery to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden to meet Lisa and RJ. Thank god he gave me a ride, too, because I was wearing Date Sandals, and they were tearing up my feet!

Last Time You Cried: Yesterday, when Thea told me she might be moving to LA.

Last Movie You Watched: Frida. And I hate Salma Hayek, but she was FANTASTIC in this movie!

Last Food You Ate: a red pepper, three strips of which are left in the bag and I just don't want them anymore.

Last Item Bought: Caffeine free diet coke. Although the last exciting thing I bought was new socks at Target! (which, when you put it in writing, is far less exciting)

Last Shirt Worn: I'm going to jazz it up a bit and say that sweaters don't count. So the last shirt I wore was the Yale t-shirt I sleep in. [That wasn't half as jazzy as I wanted it to be.]

Last Phone Call: from my sister, stuck in traffic between Minneapolis and St. Paul, on her way to the airport. She had to pee, and I told her to go in the rental car. After all, there's no rule saying she can't....

Last Kiss: See last hug.

Last Thing You Touched: Other than the pepper and the phone and the keyboard? Candy Corn!!

Last Funeral: Grandma Esther's, I think. And that was in high school.

Last Time at the Mall: Christmas. Although, more recently than that, I was on the phone with someone who was at the Mall of America, and I kind of felt like I was there, too...

Last Time You Were Excited for Something: When Christina came to visit.

Last Person You Saw: My boss Eric. He just came by my desk to give me work to do. Ha!

Last Thing You Drank: Hot cocoa. Sure, it's 80 degrees outside, but it's FREEZING in here!

Last Person who Broke Your Heart: me?

Last Time you were Really Honestly Happy: This question makes me sad, and as a protest, I'm not going to answer it.

LA is hogging all my friends

Dear Los Angeles,

You've got enough of my friends already. Can't you just knock it off and keep your greasy little mitts of the rest of my pals?

Oh sure, you're offering them success, fame, fortune, and a greater amount of paying union work. You've got nice weather. You've got beaches. You've got a laid back, traffic-laden, schmooze-easy culture. Fine! I can't compete with that.

But LA, will you bake my sweet friends cupcakes? Will you listen to them as they cry in the parking lot at 3 in the morning? Will you fight with them every time they tell you their haircut is ugly? Will you look the other way as they slip out of sexy heels and into flip flops? Will you love them the way I do?

No. You won't. You never will. And that's why it's most unfair that you want to have them... and that they want to have you. They're mine. And until you send at least one of them back, I'm taking my toys in the other room, holding my breath and not saying another word to you.

You're stupid LA and, like I said to my dad when I was five years old, You have a big bald spot and I hope you die!

Love,
Kate-who-misses-Thea-and-Christina-and-the-rest-of-you-out-there