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san frannnnn

Cali is rad. I love it here and wish I were never coming back to New York. OK, well, that's not true - NYC ain't so bad. It's just that this city is so.o.o.o.o.o chill. Saw some touristy stuff and also gorged on the ubiquitous cali staple, In N Out Burger.

Met a lot of smart and interesting people so far. It just feels more REAL here, less poseur than Manhattan / Williamsburg. If I didn't live in New York I would definitely live here, earthquakes or no!

I'm just updating this really quickly then I'm off to explore by myself since Alex is at work. (Her apt is so fly BTW. I wanna be her new roommate.) I'm going to walk through the park then go to Ocean Beach. It might take me all day to walk there but A is an iBanker and might be working til midnight so I have plenty o' free time.

Probably peacing out from SF tomorrow to hit up Long Beach / LA with Rachel. Holla for SoCal but tears for leaving the Bay.

Update:

San Francisco was one of the best cities I've ever visited. It was so relaxing and clean and interesting. There were a lot of scary homeless people in random spots though. I definitely want to live here someday for at least a few years.

After overstaying my welcome with Alex (about 5 days), I hopped an early morning BART bus to central SF to catch a private bus to LA. It was the cheapest route I could find and it only cost a pittance - maybe $70. After some navigational troubles I found the "Station" - which consisted of a tiny sign outside a fast food joint. I of course immediately went into the restaurant (NOT In 'n' Out unfortunately - it was something weird I don't recall) and got some lunch. The only other people there were also obviously waiting for the bus to LA as they also had duffels and backpacks. The guy next to me decided to strike up a conversation.

At first I was wary but he seemed like a nice, jolly guy. I of course immediately started talking about my "girlfriend" so he would know I was gay - and think I was definitely not single. Usually this method serves well to weed out the guys who are just looking to pick you up - if they are just looking for conversation, they don't mind at all that you're a homo.

So this guy and I got on well - he was a photographer and he had a lot of tips for a first-timer to LA - what to see, where to go. He told me I looked like a "Silver Laker" as I guess that's Cali's version of Williamsburg. (For some reason, people in SF / LA all know what Williamsburg is, which is random. At Alex's house party, a friend of hers who was originally from NYC commented, "Oh, she looks like someone from Williamsburg or something" and Alex had to laugh.) Anyway, we struck up such a rapport that when we boarded the bus, we took seats side by side.

This turned out to be a good decision. The first thing he did was offer me a sticky chocolate brownie, accompanied by an exaggerated wink. Sweet! The 5-hour ride, which in exchange for its cheapness offers literally no sights of beauty or interest along the route, went by very quickly. He was an interesting dude, for sure. Turned out he was a photographer of the old and arcane. He told me a really, really long story about photographing "ghosts" in Louisiana swampland. Sounds like he got a bunch of creepy pictures of old furniture in run down houses. Sorry, but stories of "open drawers" and "shadows on rugs" will never be enough to convince me of the existence of spirits.

When we arrived in LA, night had fallen and we parted ways. Out of an exaggerated need to "save trouble", I had insisted to Rachel that there was no need to pick me up all the way in LA, and I agreed to take a bus as close to Huntington Beach that ran at night.

Big mistake.

Turned out that this entailed taking a subway from the bus station to some random spot in downtown LA. I have taken many a metro system (NY / LN / DC / Boston, etc) but LA's was the most confusing by far. By the time I figured out how to get where I was going, I missed the next ride.

So I found myself on a darkened street in downtown LA surrounded by homeless people and sketchy dudes. It's 11pm. I'm 5'2" carrying a blue duffel and looking way out of my element. Can anyone say runaway prostitute?

It was surreal. I felt like I was in some kind of post-Apocalyptic world. Surrounded by huge, shiny chrome and glass office buildings but standing by heaps of trash and wandering ragged beggars. So far, I don't like LA.

I wait on a metal bench for the bus to arrive. According to the schedule it's supposed to show up at 1145, but it never comes. I wait. Call Rachel, wait some more. Men and women walk by, pushing rusted shopping carts filled with plastic bags and various recyclables. I pretend to talk on my blackberry so the numerous men also waiting for the bus don't talk to me.

Finally, 45 minutes later, the bus arrives. Taking public transport in LA SUCKS. You clearly need a car. People taking public transport seem to be really poor and the drivers treat them like dirt. Some poor guy was screamed at for taking a bicycle onto the bus - it was obvious that he needed it for work, and that the bus driver was obligated to take him on anyway, but he just took the piss out of the guy for no reason. Afterward, the driver looked at me as if to commiserate, like, "what an asshole, trying to take his bike on board!" I pointedly looked away. The driver was white - so was I. Everyone else was black or latino. It was a long drive to Huntington.

Rach and Pete picked me up at the bus stop and we drove to Pete's house in Huntington Beach. Such a cute little beach town although it felt pretty suburban. I guess it was. I don't think I could ever live in such a boring little grid. Manhattan may be a grid, but that's a totally different setup and there is lots of diversity. This was much more monotonous.

Pete's in a band and it was a total band house. Guys crammed together, two to a room, instruments and cables everywhere. But it was really clean, and nicely set up. I didn't feel uncomfortable at all, despite the overwhelming scent of Axe and testosterone.

rockford peaches

BTW my basketball team won our first game on Monday! So we're 4-1. I actually played well - I scored three times, and one was a three-pointer SWISH - nuthin but net yo. I'm like MJ without my own brand of high-top specialty shoes.

We started out so cocky, man. I remember the first game, when we still had enthusiasm and hope, and almost everyone would show up. We had a couple girls who were taller than 5'5" which is always good news in a game like b-ball, and we're all stretching on the court, flexing our biceps and triceps and quads and also explaining to me where these muscles are exactly. Then the other team walks in and it's like scrimmaging the Chinese National Team - a set of diminutive Asian ladies all of whom are under 5'5" for sure. Ha ha ha! we all laughed, amusedly flipping our hair, the glow of imminent domination already illuminating our faces and widening our vicious grins. I remember there was a lot of power-drunken high-fiving.

Of course we would win, after all, we had some tall chicks and also we were prepared to get violent. Plus a lot of us had these really official-looking terry cloth headbands from American Apparel and everyone knows how reliably these boost athletic performance.

But we didn't. Turns out these chicks were cutthroat and devoid of pity - total sociopaths. And they kept calling plays in their language that we couldn't understand which is practically cheating. I got a fist to the voicebox and a malfunctioning kidney from this neanderthal-browed point guard and that was it. I gave up and sat in the stands fingering rosary beads for the rest of the game.

We lost. By a lot. You know what they say, pride goeth before a fall. Luckily now we don't have any pride and look where it got us! We won a game! Well, the other team was late and had to forfeit, but I still had a point.

chickity china

Yow! So my bro leaves in two weeks for Nanjing, China. He'll be there until early 2009 and I can't wait to visit. I think while I'm there I will make stopovers in Beijing and Shanghai. I wanna see all the culture-y shit too, you know, Great Wall, Mulan's Grave, etc.

I leave in TWO days for San Fran / Long Beach / Los Angeles! Hollerrrr. Gonna meet up with a plethora of randoms, v. exciting as well. Jose is giving me a memory card since mine was lost while camping once-upon-a-time, so expect 1000's of photographs.

I was so amped about my Cali trip as well as the RNC roadtrip with Ken that I started bragging about them to my roommate. She smiled warmly at me and said, "How nice for you... I'll be leaving for two weeks right when you get back."

"Oh sweet, where're you going?"

"Oh you know - I thought I'd just jet off to Barcelona for a few days - my parents are flying from Cairo into Montreal then and I want to be away - and then I'll probably head to the south of France to stay with [our Williamsburg neighbor and her longtime friend] in his villa there. I'm going back to Madrid after Nice and then to the Spanish Coast to stay in a friend's empty house... probably no longer than two weeks, but definitely not like, a month."

All said off-handedly, like she was letting me know she was off to the deli or something. When I was talking about MY trip, domestic-not-international-thank-you-very-much, I was practically frothing at the mouth with excitement. Of course, she is a model so she has a lot of world-traveling experience whereas I count London, Disney World, and Niagara Falls as my excursions of note. We working-class non-models / non-Rich Kids have to EARN our frequent flier miles, the hard way.

That being said, I, along with billions of other personal ad placers, truly enjoy traveling. Roommate, friends and I have had many deep conversations about the intrinsic value that global exploration can add to your outlook on the world. Yet it is one of the most expensive and time-consuming hobbies out there. I am just on the cusp of jet-set affordability, and when I say jet, I mean regular plane. When Roommate says jet, she means actual jet. Ah, to live the glamorous life.

A peripheral friend and fellow party-goer once ticked off her list of preferential attributes in a significant other:
"Smart, handsome, well-read, educated, multi-lingual...oh, and of course, well-traveled!"

This girl was 22 at the time. Notice she didn't mention a comfortable socioeconomic status - however, I think this preference is implicitly implied with the globe-trekker caveat - and she ends up sounding cultured and discerning rather than like some gold-diggin' broad. I think insisting upon someone being "globally well-traveled" before the age of 25 - or even 30! - is tantamount to socioeconomic exclusion.

Yes, I'd LOVE to have been to France, Italy, South Africa, Cairo, Shanghai, Baghdad etc. etc. etc. But while this girl was off cruising the Mediterranean / Baltic / Pacific 10-12 times during high school and college, I was working 40+ hours a week to be able to pay all of my own expenses. While this girl was living in a parentally subsidized apartment, and hopping the Turks AND the Caicos with the surplus slush, I'm paying rent, buying groceries, and gettin' biddy on the rest. It's HARD to travel when you work 40+hours a week, 52 weeks a year. In the past year, I've taken ZERO of my vacation days because I wanna get ahead. I don't want to be seen as the officemate who is always globe-hopping and party-stopping or the one who works in order to pay the bills instead of aiming for progression and succession.

Please Note: I don't begrudge anyone their happinesses. It's amazing that some people have been afforded the opportunities to see the world and I think they're all the better for it. In fact, I too am hypocritically attracted to those that are, in a nutshell, "well-traveled", because I am not and I am a strict devotee to the Doctrine of the Attraction of Opposites. I simply dislike the fact that many of these individuals view themselves as being somehow more enlightened or informed as a result of their wanderings, when in fact they are more typically just vulgar sight-seeing tourists gorging the craws of revenue-starved cities. [I ESPECIALLY hate when trust-funders predictably head to Africa as an alternative to actually studying / working for a semester, and profess their "connections with" and "empathy for" the poverty stricken natives / refugees. They invariably claim to have forged meaningful friendships - these are quickly forgotten however, when Richie Rich heads back to the old US of A and Kwame can't afford to follow / mail any letters. But Richie will post the meaningful photos of himself wearing the traditional African garb, posing with charmingly skeletal local schoolchildren, straight from his Nikon Digital SLR to his new custom lime-green PowerMacbook and then on to the Book of Faces / HisSpace almost immediately, which pretty much puts him on par with like, Gandhi. And stuff.]

I've already decided. When I have the income that I am comfortable with, I'll start going away more often. I've not been able to travel much so far, but that will change soon, I hope, because hard work often results in a better job and higher pay. And anyway, it's not like Spain is the only place worth going. I've been camping on more mountainsides, exploring inside more caverns, and swimming in more lakes, rivers, and streams than most international travelaholics - you can find beauty almost anywhere.

In this year alone I'll be able to go to California (10 days), US cross-country roadtrip (9 days) AND head to China (10 days). But you know what? I think I'll enjoy each and every one of these vactions ONE THOUSAND TIMES more than those people who, by birth and privilege, have already seen the world. Because when you make it yourself, it just tastes sweeter.

rad weekend

So on Saturday Ken and I went to the Anti War protest in Times Square. Despite the torrential downpour, there was a great turnout - very positive! There were also some protesters protesting the protesters - shouting "Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb bomb Iran!" and "George Bush is winning!" The latter statement made no sense, because what exactly IS George Bush winning? The war on Iraq? Opinion polls? But people shouted "George Bush is winning!" for several straight hours. Luckily, there were only about 15 of these people and they looked thoroughly crazed. Plus, a lot of them were missing what some would consider rather crucial teeth.

It was so much fun to interview people. I got to act all official, in my two piece suit, asking, "Hi, would you like to participate in a five to ten minute interview for CBS News?" A lot of people actually don't want to be on camera - I mean, it seems kind of contradictory - they're there to get the word out, to show a warm body instead of a ballot - but they don't want anyone to associate them with the movement. I bet a lot have had bad experiences with the media twisting their words and re-contextualizing their statements. We did about eight to ten interviews, with Ken and I sharing the interviewer and camera[wo]man roles.

After the protest, Ken and I headed over to the CBS Studios to cut and edit the footage. So rad! I was able to tour all the sets, including Katie Couric's super off-limits zone. What a money drain for the network that woman is. She doesn't even write her own stories - I hardly see how her presence as nighttime anchor is in anyway promoting the cause of women's equality. She quite simply isn't up to snuff.

We spent a long, long time editing the film - I learned a couple tricks with Final Cut Pro and realized that I totally missed my calling when I opted out of the Communications program at Fordham. Dang son! I wish I had stuck with it and I could have Ken's job, which is to interview celebrities and produce news stories of interest. Of course I make a lot more in the whole legal analytics sector, but life ain't all about the benjamins.




Here I am, editing with Final Cut Pro!

All in all we had a great time. I can't wait for the RNC road trip! We're going to bring the camera and film a lot of footage, both at the RNC and on our way there and back. Probably going to make a stopover in Chi-town too.

The video is all set - Ken did the final cut - and it's posted below. Holla!

Stop War On Iran Protest Story

new news!

Kait n sam are officially moved into their new W'burg apartment today - exciting for me 'cause now I have neighbors

Jose and I are going shopping in 20 minutes - yesss. Been so long since I've been shopping.

Also: This weekend we are a)going to a protest b)going hot-air ballooning in the park and c)heading to the beach again. No complaints!

My roommate is going away from August 15-Sept 1. I'll be away from August 8th-15th, then again Sept 1 - 6th. So it'll be a month-long separation. But I don't think either of us will be crying about it.

Jose and I are considering a two bedroom in the Village. Thanks to some recent developments, I may be able to afford this. However - do I really want to double my rent when I could just go on more vacations? Maybe get a car? Who can say - after all, what I want seems to NEVER EVER be for the best. (Ask anyone.)

Californication!

So I'm leaving in ONE WEEK for San Francisco! Holla! I'll be staying with A-Chan, aka Right Mind Left Coast (dunno what she's saying there - uh - Republican?) for the weekend, staying out of her hair because she has another visitor arriving the same week. I think I'll have fun and she mentioned a daytrip to Napa...umm...sure! Alex is mad chill and also a gay. I love gays.

Then I'll fly down the coast to visit Rachel in Long Beach. She's going to be job hunting but I plan on staying on the beach for four or five solid days - I'm going to get a tan if it kills me! (It might.) We'll go into LA for a day or two, too - can't wait to see West Hollywood and all the L Word hotspots in person. God I'm such a lesbian! Love it!

I. Am. Really. Stoked.


Also, tomorrow is the Stop War On Iran! protest in Times Square. Ken and I will be interviewing people for a story for CBS News. Maybe he'll let me interview on-camera! You know, I came to NYC to pursue broadcast journalism; maybe this will reignite the flames of my dreams. LOL that sentence is hilarious.