Half Marathon Madness

I hate running. That is, until recently I had a very hateful relationship with running. You see, I am a former competitive swimmer, so any “dryland” activities were not for me. Even when I quit swimming full time and I started working out on my own, I live in Southern California. So I was always swimming or surfing or wakeboarding. Might as well get a tan while you work out, right?

So needless to say, when I moved to New York and I had all this cold weather (and I really really hate indoor pools) I had to figure something out. At first I pretty much did nothing, but then with a wedding coming up, I started to run. And run, and run. And then Ted moved to New York and got this crazy idea that we would run a marathon. So I coerced a couple of girlfriends into it and we began running every day. And then this weekend was the qualifying race – 13.1 miles around Central Park.

We prepared that morning at 6:00am by putting on our crazy underarmor suits to keep our bodies warm in the below 30 degree weather. Victor was none too pleased at our happiness:

we look so cool.

And then it was off to the park! What is awesome about New York on a Sunday morning at around 6:00am is that you have a great mixture of people. There were the race participants, and people coming back from the clubs the night before. And man do they look like they were hurting. One girl got off the train and barfed up all her bad decisions, luckily it wasn’t on the train. Again, Victor was not too happy about being awake at that hour on his weekend:

What was great about the race is that I got to feel like I was an athlete again. I forgot how much I missed that feeling, with people cheering us on, and getting to look all official:

putting on my official number

As far as the race itself goes, it really wasn’t that bad. I really liked running with Kaitlin and Joscelyne because we seemed to time ourselves pretty well. We had a really fast mile in there, and we also got to see all the sights in Central Park that we had never seen before, and man is that park full of hills! I probably should have trained for hills, but I never did so they really did not make my things feel good. The first eight or so miles went great and then at mile ten I really hurt myself. The thing about Central Park is that there are a lot of horses. And horses poop. And poop doesn’t get cleaned up.

So I jumped over a pile of poop. And sprained my ankle. Really bad.

But that’s okay I finished anyway, and Victor got a great video of the three of us crossing the finish line eight minutes before our goal! (Ted of course had finished 40 minutes before us! Way to go Ted!) Unfortunately the video can’t be uploaded onto the blog for some reason, but here’s a good picture of us after it all:

we did it!

And after we ate our bodies full of delicious food at the Manhattan Diner, we headed home to stretch and do nothing for the rest of the day:

Kaitlins creative stretching

Later that night Victor took me to the Lion King on Broadway for my birthday present, and though I hobbled my way over there. It was amazing. And I am still hobbling, a week later. I start physical therapy next week, so hopefully I will be able to start running again soon. The half marathon was so fun I can’t wait for the full!

Yes, I am a Nerd

The last shift that I really enjoyed was completely surrounded by literature. One of my regulars, Mark, who is also a good friend and sounding board through all of the job applying I am currently going through, thanks to his PhD status and California background, we share common ground. However, he is a science guy, and I am a literature gal. But I have been reading East of Eden by John Steinbeck, and we got to talking about it.

You see, I got my MA in Comparative Literature, sure, but I focused on post World War II American lit, so right now I have been into this kind of pastoral turn of the century stuff. Struck out with Kerouac (just stop whining!) but Steinbeck, I love. Love love love. Perhaps it’s because I’m going through this whole, “what am I doing with myself” crisis, and I believe the message of that book to be that we are all in control of what we become, regardless of what we came from – a message that is truly poignant in my life right now.

But I digress. Mark is also a lover of the book, and for at least an hour over a very empty bar, we chatted about the book. And why it means different things to different people. And why it was important to each of us. It was really nice to have a conversation about something that we both liked but both of us are so different. It was refreshing to talk to someone who loved the book just because it is, not because we are analyzing it for class. And thanks to Mark I got to thinking about books I love. Most of them, with a couple exceptions of course, are books I have read outside of school. I miss that. I think it is pertinent on the day that the author of one of my favorites:

Franny and Zooey, passed away. I am a big Salinger fan, with the exception of Catcher in the Rye because I find it very whiny, but perhaps if I were a boy I would understand it better, and I am thankful for him to have existed. I am thankful for Harper Lee, and John Steinbeck and Wally Lamb and Alice Seabold and Hemingway and Spiegleman and Shakespeare and Chabon and Rowling for making books my life. So all of you out there in my community, let us mourn the loss of a great writer by remembering what made him great, go home tonight and turn off your tv and read a book. You won’t regret it.

An Affair to Remember (that I want to forget)

Public make-out sessions are the WORST. There is literally nothing more blech in my mind than two people playing “how far can I stick my tongue down your throat” in a public place. Needless to say I am not a fan of PDA. In fact this New Year’s Eve was the first time most of my friends have seen Victor and I kiss, and we have been together for six and a half years now.

That being said, it seems to me that the stuff that grosses me out tends to be the stuff that follows me around. That’s why on Tuesday night I was none too happy to find that a couple had decided to shack up at two of my bar stools, drink some wine, and play tonsil hockey for the rest of the night.

And don’t get me wrong, I am not arguing for morality in any way shape or form. An Affair to Remember is one of the most romantic movies of all time. The Empire State building always makes me think of it:

But Tuesday was no Affair to Remember, rather it was oddly cheesy and predictable. Almost laughable.

Let me paint a picture for you. Her: attractive, mid-forties, blonde, extremely well dressed, big diamond wedding rings on her left finger. Him: Thin, also mid forties, with sandy hair, pointy nose, and also well dressed. Also wearing a wedding ring. All signs point to them being married to each other, except for the passionate making out that was going on. My manager, who is married with three children turns to me and says, “there is no way they are married to each other,” and I of course took that as a sign to listen in as much as possible to their conversation when they decided to come up for air.

And wouldn’t you know it, my manager was right. It was like a scene from a really bad movie. Not the love story between Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr, but like bad bad affair. She literally looked at him and said, “I can’t believe you have to go back home to your wife and kids,” to which he replied, “I love my wife but I love you more.” Really? Really? I wanted to ask them if either of them have ever once watched a movie, this will not turn out well. Though, it is not my place to get involved, and as they were not drinking too much, and though she was pressing her GIANT boobs as far as possible into his chest, they weren’t really bothering anyone, which is a nice change.

I am just curious as to why so many people choose to live out their affair at my bar. This couple is definitely not the first. I will refer to the mistress who jerked off her manfriend at the bar. That was by far the worst. Maybe it’s because the place is off the beaten path, in Brooklyn but close enough to Manhattan that it’s convenient, and there is less chance of getting caught. Maybe it’s because management insists on keeping it so dark in there at dinner time that our elderly regulars bring flashlights to read the menu. Maybe it’s because I am young and unassuming, and the place is pretty much never crowded. I don’t know, but I tend to ask myself why all the time. I wonder whether they work together, or if he really does love his wife, because he has no problem screwing someone else. I just wonder. And I hope that Victor never has some cheesy mistress someday. Because really, I think I would just laugh at him.

Well bloggies, I am off to get ready for my BIRTHDAY PARTY tonight! I am sure that there will be a post to come after that. This will be a pretty busy weekend, what with the birthday party, the half marathon on Sunday and the fact that Victor got me Lion King tickets, I will update on Monday about all the fun.

I just love birthdays

Update

I added a new tab, a disclaimer, as it has recently come to my attention that my words could be construed as offensive to any given population. Check it out.

A Penny For Your Thoughts?

I’ve been avoiding the blog.

2010 has started off to, well, an interesting start. One of the main reasons I have not been writing too much is because this blog is devoted to my job as a bartender. But it’s sort of hard to write about crazy things that happen there when it’s really, really, really, really slow.

As in, I have been closing before midnight pretty much every night. Which is not to say that I am doing terribly financially, because my regulars always tip me well, but there is just nothing crazy happening. I have the guy who will not SHUT UP about how awesome AVATAR is, or the guy who smokes too much pot and then has to “escape from the bad people through the kitchen” and takes off running through the kitchen out the back door, or the woman who is super loud and obnoxious, the regular crew of alcoholics and misfits. And of course, there is one regular that is absolutely killing my spirit, but I made a vow not to blog about regulars, as I depend on them to pay my bills.

But really, this guy makes me want to pluck out my eyes with a spoon just so that I don’t have to talk to him anymore.

And then a really terrible thing happened on Tuesday. There was an earthquake in Haiti, a place that is already full of pain and suffering, a place that really could not stand to suffer any more, especially from a natural disaster of this magnitude. As I tried to comprehend the extent of the disaster, I got a horrible phone call from my brother, informing me that someone I knew quite well was missing in the rubble outside of Port-Au-Prince. You see, I’m from a really small town. And I went to a really small private school. I am lucky enough to count Jordan Hightower as one of my good friends from back home, a lively, crazy, spirited girl who always, no matter what, has a smile on her face. And Jordan’s little sister, Molly, who was a year younger than us shared that same light that her sister gives off. Molly had been spending the past year in Haiti working with abandoned, disabled children, and died in the earthquake.

So for the past day or so, I have been trying to comprehend something so utterly terrible. Though Molly and I were not super close, I knew her. And I know her family, as does everyone in our town. The Hightowers are that kind of family – loving, giving and kind. I can’t understand how someone like Molly, who devoted the last year of her life to serving others, can be taken away like that. I can’t understand how a place like Haiti can be the place that was hit. I can’t understand why people like Pat Robertson use a horrible disaster like this to push his political agenda.

Walking through Manhattan and Brooklyn today, in the unusual sunshine and warmth, I counted my blessings. I know I complain a lot, but I am damn lucky for what I have. We all are. Molly is an inspirational person, and thought it’s completely unfair that she was taken away way too young I can hope that she will continue to inspire others to give their talents to those in need. A foundation to rebuild the hospital/orphanage that she worked and gave her life in has been set up: http://www.friendsoftheorphans.org/molly

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas Y’all!

Hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday season! My family is in town (mom, brother, and sister) and we are spending some quality time in Brooklyn, and of course doing all of the tourist activities. These crazy travelers have already been to Washington D.C. and DisneyWorld (without me. sadface) and now we are trying to do all of the tourist activities possible before they leave on New Year’s Eve.

In the meantime, I bartended Christmas Eve at the bar. It was quite uneventful. Though the fam came in for dinner, which was nice and gave me some customers for a while:

Obviously we were super slow that night, since I was able to close up shop around 10:30pm. I came all festive for the night (pictured here with one of the servers:

And we had a champagne toast as a staff:

The best part though? One of my tables ordered a $95.00 bottle of wine (1984 from Napa Valley) and left more than half of it on the table, which meant I got to take it home with me! Really really yummy!

The next day we ventured out to Macy’s in Herald Square….which was so crowded I thought I was going to go crazy. But I did get a $108 dress for $9 so I’d say overall it was worth it.

Next we headed to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, to check out the ancient Egyptian exhibits for my brother, the budding Egyptologist:

And again, it was so crowded it was insane. Probably because it was pouring rain outside. Like pouring buckets. Also, as most New Yorkers know, the admission fee of $20.00 per person is a “suggested donation” and I was not about to have my familia shell out $100 for a couple of hours at a museum. Especially since we were only going for one exhibit. Needless to say I got about the dirtiest look ever from the cashier. But who cares, they were making so much money it was ridic.

That night mom rested her feet while brother, sister, Victor and I went to an Upright Citizens Brigade show in Chelsea and with the exception of the very very irritating bachelorette party, was very funny. I think we all had a great time.

But I have to check out now bloggies, as my cousins from the Bronx are coming over for lunch, and then we are going to take a leisurely stroll across the Brooklyn Bridge. More pictures of that soon!

Burning Ring of Fire

I think I mentioned in my last post that I made a huge mistake the morning after Thanksgiving. And again, I blame it all on cooking. You see, I really don’t like to cook. I like to bake because I love cookie dough and cake batter. Cooking, on the other hand, is hard, complicated and no matter how often I try and freakin’ follow the recipe correctly, I always manage to mess it up.

It’s true. Ask Victor about the Papa Murphy’s pizza incident of 2004. I was inconsolable.

On Thanksgiving, as I posted last time, I cooked A LOT. And I did it well. I hardly messed anything up! The one thing I made a mistake on was easily fixed and no one even noticed. I’m tricky like that. That being said, my confidence was up – big time. I got overambitious and decided to make my delicious French Toast for the morning after breakfast.

My French Toast is GOOOOOOD. I start by making the batter and soaking real french bread over night and the next morning bake it and smother it in a homemade brown sugar/butter/pecan mixture. It’s a heart attack on a plate and it’s damn good.

So I wake up really early, while the family is asleep and start to preheat the oven. We have an electric oven back home so it just beeps at me when it’s ready. About ten minutes later I start to smell smoke, so I wander into the kitchen and see tons of smoke all over the kitchen coming from the oven. So I, being a smart person, open the oven door, allowing oxygen to enter the cavity. Which, in science terms I believe is called

FIRE!!!!

Big, orange flames bursting from the oven:

FIRE!

So what do I do? I know exactly where the fire extinguisher is stored. Do I go get it? Of course not, because in the heat of the moment (no pun intended) I decide to slam the oven door shut and take off in the opposite direction screaming for my mommy. Who in turn, jumps from bed, instructs me to throw baking soda on it, while she runs for the extinguisher.

I grab the baking soda, and proceed to pour it all over the flames, throwing it into the open oven door. And the flames go out, leaving my mother, me, my groggy siblings and a HUGE white mess all over the kitchen heaving from exhaustion. My mother turns to look at me and says, “well, at least it wasn’t Thanksgiving morning.” True statement mother. Very true. And man, did I have a mess to clean up later, which I found out was started from my SISTERS cheese sauce dripping all over the bottom of the oven and not cleaning it up…so really it wasn’t my fault, was it? Though I still had to clean it all up and I was not so happy about it:

I set the oven on fire...

Needless to say, the French Toast was not very good – though I did end up making it on a griddle – it just wasn’t the same. I also won’t be cooking again for a long time I suppose, because stuff like this always happens.

Baby It’s Cold Outside

Hello world! I’m back! It’s been a while – I’ve taken a trip to Washington, had Thanksgiving, and, drumroll please….

I FINISHED MY FINALS!

Which means that I am done with my MA coursework – All I have left is to turn in my thesis on April 16, 2010. Did I mention that my thesis was 90% done already?

Anyway, since I have been gone, I went to Washington:

isn't it pretty?

We spent a week at home planning a wedding with my groomzilla (post on that will appear in the next couple of days) and having delicious Thanksgiving food. For the first time in my life I cooked a lot of the side dishes including the green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie (from scratch!) and the stuffing. I had supervision of course, as my sister (the seasoned cook) made sure that I couldn’t mess anything up, and I didn’t, which is very surprising. And the dog got in the Christmas spirit a bit early:

Boo's first appearance in the blog!

Since Victor and I are getting married in the summer, he is officially the oldest male in my immediate family. In our family that means carving the turkey at Thanksgiving, which he enjoyed too much I think:

Turkey carver extraordinaire!

The dinner was fantastic and stress free. Usually holidays at my house are a little on the tense side. Not that we don’t like each other, but the stress of planning big dinners really seems to stress people out. This year, however, we really had a good time:

Mi Familia!

The next morning I made a huge mistake, that will appear in a later blog post, I promise But let’s just say its a doozie, having made everything so perfect the night before it only logically followed that the next day I would wipe the slate clean again.

In the meantime I have been back in New York preparing for Christmas. We are official New Yorkers because we have out own Charlie Brown tree, and I finished all my shopping and wrapping:

Our tree!

And today it started to snow! My family has been driving to Orlando all day to go to Disneyworld, and Victor and I are trapped in a snowstorm. We decided to venture out in the storm and have some fun, after bundling up:

Then we decided to make designs in the snow with our gloves. The back windows of cars were our main target, and I don’t think its vandalism per se if we are spreading joy that will soon be covered up with more snow:

caught in the act!

Needless to say we have had a fun weekend celebrating the end of our respective MA degrees I am going to make sure to update the blog much more often – as I have a lot of material! Have a lovely and snowy weekend!

I Promise I am Coming Back!

Hi All-

So it’s officially been three weeks since I’ve last posted, but I promise there is good reason. These are the last three weeks of my Master’s Degree (!!) and needless to say the workload has been utterly awful. On top of this I have also been working a lot more at the snooty private school, going to class, running, and I recently went on a week long adventure to Seattle. Did I mention I am planning a wedding as well? It’s enough to make me want to pull my hair out.

Luckily, I have had some incentive to get everything done. I have been keeping a hand-written journal of all of my misadventures, that will soon be posted here in the blogging world…so there is a lot of material for you all. Trust me, it’s the time of year when the crazies are out full force.

Also, Ted bought me East of Eden for Christmas. He knew I have been dying to read it (as I have been dying to read a lot of things, but thanks to grad school have been unable to so much as go to a bookstore for pleasure) so I have it sitting on my shelf for incentive. As soon as I turn in that last paper (that I have not started eek!) I will be cracking open that book as my reward.

The last paper is due Monday December 21, and the first one is due tomorrow by 5pm. In true Cady form however, I will be attempting to get it done by Friday so I can actually enjoy the holiday season in New York and try and get some Christmas shopping done as well.

Wish me luck and will post soon – promise!

No Crazies Here, Please.

Jeorge – with a “J” he informs me. He is wearing a pink Armani shirt with purple Coach tie. I know I’m in trouble. Why the hell this guy sat down next to me – in my ratty old red shirt, skinny jeans and tattered chuck’s – I’ll never know. He was definitely the kind of guy who date rapes blonde bimbos in pleather leggings and 6″ stilettos in only the best clubs. Kill me. He throws his feet up on the overstuffed ottoman and glances over at me. “What’s your major?” I have two essays, a Faulkner novel and my computer in my lap – obviously not wanting to make chit-chat.

“I’m a grad student. Humanities.” Which apparently is an open invitation for me to sit passenger side on his ride to crazy town. First he tells me he graduated from NYU and is a stock trader. Did I mention he is bald? In the “I shave my head because I want to look like Bruce Willis in Die Hard because it’s the best movie ever even though I have a full head of hair!” kind of obnoxious manner. Then he starts going on about how he was in the Navy. He’s European. Greek. Wanted to be a Navy seal but ran a seven minute mile so he was too slow so he became a rescue swimmer. But now he’s thinking of being a Math teacher or FBI agent or DEA agent but he’s not a citizen yet but will be in a year don’t worry.

This while time I continue reading and saying, “uh-huh” because I’m afraid if I don’t he may flip out. And then he tells me hes trying to give up coffee and is depressed about it and the last time he was depressed and he went shopping and bought an Armani fur coat. Then he tells me I should blow off class to smoke cigarettes and do cocaine with him – and then started talking about hookers and Ferrari’s. I think he was joking but his accent made every sentence he spoke sound like a question: I graduated from NYU? I have a degree in Economics? I’m an environmentalist? I read Forbes magazine? SHUT UP!

I’m dying to scream it by again, I like my life. Luckily (but not for my homework) I ask him the time – he flashes me his – SHOCKER! – Armani watch. It’s 6:04? And mutter that I have class at 6:20 5 blocks away and he tells me I look like Britney Spears? And I’m not sure whether or not its a complement. Britney Spears circa 2003 is a total compliment whereas Britney circa 2007 is a huge insult.

Basically this kind of thing happens to me often, not just at the bar. apparently I have a face that says, “Please stranger, vent your crazy life story to me!” Though, this guy was totally the craziest so far. I don’t want to generalize guys from the Mediterranean, but my manager is from a similar area and he is a LOT like this dude. Only less freaky and more creepy. Where I’m pretty sure Jeorge wanted to take me home and skin me alive while he ran through piles of cocaine my manager is just awkward, but I think he has good intentions.

Not to all crazy men: LEAVE ME ALONE!