Busted!

I went what, a whole two days fearing for my homelessness? Yeah, I got an apartment. Or did I? I think I did, although I have yet to sign a lease. Well I'm 75% sure I got an apartment. I mean Time Warner is coming to said apartment next week to install cable and internet, (because god knows what I do without those two things!). Well we'll see I guess.

Onto more important matters. Who gets a civil disobedience ticket at 9 am in the morning? Me that's who. Now before you start to live vicariously through me, I warn that the story is pretty boring and does not involve nudity or violence in any way. It's 9 o'clock in the morning, I'm walking to the subway with my good friend Emily. We're laughing and chatting about nothing in particular. It's her first morning in her new place, my old place as of this Saturday. I'm happy to be walking to the subway with someone I know. Well last Friday, I spent my last ride on my MetroCard and spent the weekend lazily buying Single Ride tickets. Needless to say, part of my planned to be uneventful morning was purchasing a new card. As we walk in the station, I casually walk up to the machine, only to be greeting with a "No Signal" message on the screen. I've seen many out of service messages on this very machine, but never that one. Seems more suitable for a cell phone or wireless internet connection but whatever. Technology these days, sheesh.

So in order for me to buy a card I'd have to climb the stairs back to street level, walk an avenue block, descend the stairs and potentially be greeted by the very same message on the other machines. Emily had a better idea. "Squeeze in with me!" I mean, on paper, it was a good plan. No security cameras to speak of and a seemingly empty station, I went for it. It was much more appealing than the other option, and hell, I'm a good citizen and had only done this once before, which from what I hear, is pretty honorable for someone who rides the subway everyday. Of course, as we squeeze in, push through, and head for our train, a NYPD officer walks up the stairs towards us. He came from out no where. Maybe he didn't know. We played it cool.

"Can I see some ID from you two?" Shit. "Have either of you ever been arrested?" Double shit.

As much as I wanted to cry, (to try and ease the punishment a little bit), I couldn't do anything but laugh. Call me crazy, but what the hell. Hilarious. Arrested for not paying 2 dollars? The potential cell-block conversations filled my head and I nearly doubled over in laughter. The fact that I wasn't scared of being arrested was perhaps the first sign to myself that I was an adult. Usually I'd be shaking in my mom-labeled underwear. Nonetheless, there was no arrest. He silently took our IDs and called in to check for past offenses. After finding that up to that point, we had lived law-abiding lives, he handed us a ticket for sixty bucks and told us to have a better day.

As soon as he let us go, we nearly sprinted to the train in a fit of giggles. We jumped onto a train filled with the very same people who had walked by moments earlier as we stood shamed as the PO wrote up our tickets. Some people had looked sympathetic, others, like we were the scum of the earth. And as we rode on the train, we laughed and Emily mentioned something about "not belonging", and I swear, if I didn't know us, I would have been annoyed. So I figured it was just a sixty dollar subway ride. I sat in the Priority Seating. Hell, I decided I deserved it.

Oh well, makes for a good story. Especially when I had to explain to the bossman why I was late. Even my mother laughed. And if you know my mom, you know that's quite a feat!

Woe Is Me: Being Homeless

For those of you who know me, you know that I've been trying to find housing for the past few weeks. My lease is up July 1st and I have yet to find a new place. I mean, what is up with New York real estate? It just keeps going up. One day it's going to be so high that NYC will be filled with two classes: upper and lower. Last year, my roommates and I found a place with really no big problems. Maybe I see it that way now because we didn't have a deadline. Right now, someone is planning on moving into my room in one short week. And where does that leave me? On the streets! Homeless I say!

A few days ago I joked that if we didn't find a place I'd load up a U-haul and move home for a few months, saving money for a move to LA. Now even that is out of the question seeing as the company I work for used to consist of four, and now it is down to three. The guy, we'll call him Joey, left, for practical reasons (!) but I humbly realize that if I were to leave as well, it could very well cause boss man to spontaneously combust! As I try to keep people's insides on the inside, I will not go that route...yet. But being homeless is a daunting threat that looms over my head as I look around me at all my worldly possessions knowing that being homeless might be rather hard with a dog and a truckload of stuff.



This is me when I was homeless for Halloween. The cardboard sign in the bottom right hand corner says, "Need Beer. God Bless You" On the reverse side it read, "Will Work For Beer". I went to a party that night, didn't have to shower after crew, spent zero dollars on my costume, and didn't buy a single beer. Clever and economical.

Sweaty Goats and Tap Water

I love putting two things together in a sentence that is seemingly random and may even provoke some sort of knee-jerk reaction. I guess in this instance, you'd have to have a strong aversion of goats or tap water for that to be the case. This evening brought these two seemingly random statements together in an interesting way. One minute I'm sitting in my den watching Spiderman II, the next, I'm dressed up like a nun with a goat mask on.

Long story short, a filmmaker friend of mine decided to do some re-shoots on his movie, Rock and Roll Eulogy. If you venture to the website, that might be enough to explain exactly why I was a nun dressed with a goat's mask. (It's a exploitation film, somewhat similar to Reefer Madness in the sense of style and tone.)

Anyway, I said "sweaty goats" didn't I? The masks were hot, the suits were hot. A sweet cocktail further dehydrated my poor body. At one point I thought that maybe they would somehow have to work in why one of the nuns passes out for seemingly no reason. Alas, I survived. Hopefully I can finagle some pictures. To tide you over, here's one of me as Goody Girl #1, (one of my 3(!) roles, and yes, I'm proud).

My roommates and I are all separating ways within the next few weeks. Roomie #1 left today. She took her Brita with her. After exhausting all the ice trays, (which had been filled with filtered water), I was left to drench my shriveled insides with tap water. I'm not a water snob or anything, but I have a hard time rationalizing the consumption of foggy water, even if it does clear up after a minute or two of settling. Eck!

Clarissa Where Art Thou?

I just watched the first episode of "Clarissa Explains It All". Nineties Nick was the best and this was only reconfirmed tonight.

NY and It's Strange Happenings

I've been sitting here staring at this blank box for close to two hours now. What is the first entry in a blog supposed to be like? Well I've officially decided that my first blog entry is going to be about first blog entries. You know, it's like a first impression. You want to be engaging and interesting but you don't want to disclose too much information like something horrible that's going on in your life that will immediately set the pity train a-racing. If you're having a particularly funny day, you don't want to use up all your good humorous stories on the first blog. Because really, in a few months, who is going to go back and read the first, outdated entry?

Yeah. I make a good point. The pressure is off.

The NYC subway system is a whole weird interesting world upon itself. A community almost, especially if you commute to work around the same times everyday. You see the same people and its always knowing looks, nods, sometimes even passing salutations. I've found that you can be smiling politely at a stranger one minute, but as soon as a train comes, it's a fight for who's going to fit and who's not. I've seen mothers push their toddlers out of the door so they could get to work on time. Okay, that's an exaggeration and has probably only happened like two times, but it is kind of inappropriately funny. That's the thing about subways, your kid pissing you off? Tell them you are connecting at the next station, and get out of the train with them. Right when the doors are about to shut, jump back on. That'll teach them. Yeah, I obviously don't have kids. I used to, but not anymore.

Then there's the whole subway-flirting that is completely different than regular flirting. Subway flirting is something I have come to appreciate. Here's how it works. You're on a train and standing beside you is a handsome stranger. Your left arm is grasping the rail; his right. The train veers a little and your arms touch setting off the initial sparks. Then, it happens again, but this time, the immediate response isn't to move your arm away. Shy smiles and sly movements make the small touches more and more frequent. It's simple and fun. No words exchanged, just a little bit of innocent flirting. I've also seen this done with backs and on a really crowded train, complete bodies. It's always a little awkward though when you find yourself standing face to face with a complete stranger. Four inches or less between you. That happened to me once and it's like, where the hell do you look? You don't want to look like a complete ass and completely ignore the hilarity of the awkwardness, but you also don't want to be stuck staring in this persons face for fifteen minutes. It's a tricky game this one.

The negative side of this? The subway is the only place where some strange old man has had his hand uncomfortably close to my groin. It was a crowded train and he was holding a bag, therefore placing his dirty hands right in the region of my nether region. We got squeezed together in the most unfortunate of ways. His hand, my crotch. Those five minutes were the most excruciating five minutes I've ever spent on a train. You ask why I didn't turn or move or slap his hand away? Because sardines are living a comfortable life compared to the commuters on the "L" train at rush hour.

My weird human interest story of the day:

Today at work, I was going back into my building after getting a bit of "fresh air". As I was walking past security, I heard them discussing a man who had just ran through putting on a wig and a clown nose. My initial reaction was some crazy actor late for an audition. Then I settled on disgruntled employee who was forced to take on the job of a birthday clown after being fired for taking inappropriate pictures through his peephole in the ladies room, coming back for revenge. Silly string and balloon animals. Yeah, that sounds about right.

photo from fredshead.org