So what might there be to celebrate today, hmmm?
It just so happens (and I only remembered this in the shower, so that proves how attentive I am to the date ---- but oh, the new Herbal Essences Strengthening Conditioner is so distractingly terrific! give it a shot, why don't you?) that today marks the six-month anniversary of our moving in to University Hall room 1109B, and thusly we've been college kids for an entire half-year.
This gives me an excuse to use the speech I wrote for the Academy Awards but never got to use: Thank you to Julia, for being a fantastic roommate and a wonderful person. We've said it before, but DANG! someone in the Housing Department sure got it right when they put us together in this ole room. And I'm not the only one who thinks she's awesome. An anonymous subject (drunk? drugged? leave it to your imagination) declared on Saturday night that I was "yeah, cute....yeah, but Julia's the HOT one!" And that was all the compliment I needed. Next to her, I'm shocked I even qualified for "cute!" And I don't mind that she was horrified (seemingly) when the cashier at Trader Joe's asked if we were sisters. "No! We're roommates!" she gasped.
In more urban news, New York is as it was six months ago: overwhelmingly but undeniably fabulous. As close to Europe as America can get. And it's finally seeming appropriate to begin hoping for spring. This despite the fact that it snowed flakes as big as toast two nights ago. I've been going outdoors with no coat! I've had dreams of daffodils! They've set up a miniature beach complete with lifeguard's chair and towels at Union Square! It's nearly time to start picking out sandals for late April nights and early May picnics. I took my coffee out to Washington Square Park this evening, sitting on a chilly bench but remembering how close we are to the tip of spring --- when the Strawberry Festival will come and stain the park juicy magenta, and when those traveling circus performers will come back to perform with their little dog, and when they'll turn the fountain back on, and we'll reclaim the sovereign republic of Greenwich Village just as those illuminated Bohemians did at the turn of the century.
So there's certainly much to look forward to. Spring break in two weeks? It sounds inconceivable. Home for summer vacation in two months? Beyond belief. But today and tomorrow and the hours after that will be entertaining and exasperating in the way that only Manhattan manages to be.
February 27, 2007
February 25, 2007
"on our way from stockholm, it started to snow
and you said it was like christmas
but you were wrong
it wasn't like christmas at all."
Definitely ranking in the top three experiences I've had thus far in New York: watching snow fall from the eleventh floor. Really, there can't be many things more beautiful than this. It's just like living in a big snowglobe metropolis. It's enough to make me break out my Christmas playlist. On Oscar Sunday, of all nights!
So I've decided there are certain things you're never too old for. This weekend proved a lot of them true.
and you said it was like christmas
but you were wrong
it wasn't like christmas at all."
Definitely ranking in the top three experiences I've had thus far in New York: watching snow fall from the eleventh floor. Really, there can't be many things more beautiful than this. It's just like living in a big snowglobe metropolis. It's enough to make me break out my Christmas playlist. On Oscar Sunday, of all nights!
So I've decided there are certain things you're never too old for. This weekend proved a lot of them true.
- pillow fights
- LiteBrites
- play-doh
- "The Little Rascals"
- snow days (and consequently, snow dances and wearing pajamas inside out and all that glorious stuff)
Much love, kids. Enjoy the last days of February.
A Public Apology
Please excuse any bizarre behaviors I may have exhibited last night, such as:
-Posting gibberish in the blag (entry has since been removed);
-Quoting Borat, Homestar Runner and The Office excessively and loudly;
-Demanding high fives from everyone on the floor;
-Revealing unnecessary details about my love life and other personal matters;
-Insisting that I am NOT A SLUT;
-and any other instances of yelling, singing, crawling, hugging, stumbling, swearing, giggling, and bitter ranting.
Although I would prefer to blame my actions on extreme intoxication, I accept responsibility for any annoyance, awkwardness and other forms of trouble caused by my presence in the past twenty-four hours. I have no memory of any of the above incidents, but I offer my sincerest apologies. In fact, let's get rid of any evidence it ever happened, okay? Except first, let's all cheer for Monica, who took on the highly impressive task of not only putting up with me, but taking care of me in my drunken stupor. Hooray, Monica! Fortunately for everyone it'll probably never happen again.
In other news, look at all the snow! Snow day maybe? Please...?
In other other news, we're famous! There is actual video footage of our awesome afternoon pillowfighting in Union Square, and there we are, beating each other with pillows, in all our dorkiness. In all my dorkiness, anyway. Monica is not a dork. In fact, let's thank her again for being such a good sport to her dorky roommate. Three cheers for the Monica! (The Monica? Yup.)
I think Monica wanted to write about our evening in SoHo before that bit of vodka trouble. But to give a brief recap, we went to String Street (string like yarn!) on the subway (subway, like eat fresh!) and saw the tiniest puppy and bought Little Rascals. Ohhhtay!
In other other news, don't you hate stupid jerks? I sure do. Aren't they frustrating? Yeah, they sure are.
And now it's probably time to go to bed, so I can prepare for the hard work I'll have to do tomorrow, what with living down my embarrassment and salvaging my reputation and repenting for all I put poor Monica through. After all, she's the bestest. (In fact, why didn't I think to drunk dial Monica? That would have been the hilariousest.) Anyways, a Merry Oscar Night to all, and to all a Good Night.
-Posting gibberish in the blag (entry has since been removed);
-Quoting Borat, Homestar Runner and The Office excessively and loudly;
-Demanding high fives from everyone on the floor;
-Revealing unnecessary details about my love life and other personal matters;
-Insisting that I am NOT A SLUT;
-and any other instances of yelling, singing, crawling, hugging, stumbling, swearing, giggling, and bitter ranting.
Although I would prefer to blame my actions on extreme intoxication, I accept responsibility for any annoyance, awkwardness and other forms of trouble caused by my presence in the past twenty-four hours. I have no memory of any of the above incidents, but I offer my sincerest apologies. In fact, let's get rid of any evidence it ever happened, okay? Except first, let's all cheer for Monica, who took on the highly impressive task of not only putting up with me, but taking care of me in my drunken stupor. Hooray, Monica! Fortunately for everyone it'll probably never happen again.
In other news, look at all the snow! Snow day maybe? Please...?
In other other news, we're famous! There is actual video footage of our awesome afternoon pillowfighting in Union Square, and there we are, beating each other with pillows, in all our dorkiness. In all my dorkiness, anyway. Monica is not a dork. In fact, let's thank her again for being such a good sport to her dorky roommate. Three cheers for the Monica! (The Monica? Yup.)
I think Monica wanted to write about our evening in SoHo before that bit of vodka trouble. But to give a brief recap, we went to String Street (string like yarn!) on the subway (subway, like eat fresh!) and saw the tiniest puppy and bought Little Rascals. Ohhhtay!
In other other news, don't you hate stupid jerks? I sure do. Aren't they frustrating? Yeah, they sure are.
And now it's probably time to go to bed, so I can prepare for the hard work I'll have to do tomorrow, what with living down my embarrassment and salvaging my reputation and repenting for all I put poor Monica through. After all, she's the bestest. (In fact, why didn't I think to drunk dial Monica? That would have been the hilariousest.) Anyways, a Merry Oscar Night to all, and to all a Good Night.
February 24, 2007
As nice as we sound, we can be terrible people sometimes. Terribly hilarious, that is!
Actually, here's the thing --- my confession of the weekend. Sometimes when other people's mail comes into our mailbox, I'll take it. Particularly if it's magazines. It's such a nice surprise to open up the mailbox with little hope for seeing anything other than the empty metal walls, and POOF! there's the latest issue of Rolling Stone.
We never end up keeping them permanently --- that's just cruel. And as shocking as it may seem, we do have SOME morals. Instead we'll spend a day or so looking over the articles, enjoying the issue, then return it to the "Misdelivered" box in the mailroom.
Is that so bad? I keep thinking that the poor boy downstairs is hopping up and down, waiting breathlessly for his new copy of Rolling Stone to arrive, and that extra delay of 24, 36, 48 hours is positively painful for him. But maybe I'm just deluded, and he doesn't really mind that we're sharing the issue. I sure don't mind. But I'm starting to feel a little guilty.
Also, I just realized that what we're doing is probably a felony. And now I firmly resolve to cease and desist. Yikes. Now I'm all sheepish.
Actually, here's the thing --- my confession of the weekend. Sometimes when other people's mail comes into our mailbox, I'll take it. Particularly if it's magazines. It's such a nice surprise to open up the mailbox with little hope for seeing anything other than the empty metal walls, and POOF! there's the latest issue of Rolling Stone.
We never end up keeping them permanently --- that's just cruel. And as shocking as it may seem, we do have SOME morals. Instead we'll spend a day or so looking over the articles, enjoying the issue, then return it to the "Misdelivered" box in the mailroom.
Is that so bad? I keep thinking that the poor boy downstairs is hopping up and down, waiting breathlessly for his new copy of Rolling Stone to arrive, and that extra delay of 24, 36, 48 hours is positively painful for him. But maybe I'm just deluded, and he doesn't really mind that we're sharing the issue. I sure don't mind. But I'm starting to feel a little guilty.
Also, I just realized that what we're doing is probably a felony. And now I firmly resolve to cease and desist. Yikes. Now I'm all sheepish.
We're Giving It the Old College Try
What better time to start a blog than in the aftermath of the 2nd Annual Newmindspace City-Wide Pillow Fight in Union Square? We're both tired with giggles and giddy from taking one to many hits to the head with Joe Boxer pillowcases and inhaling vast quantities of feathers.
It's been a great day, though.
It's been a great day, though.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)