Something Borrowed

Days without computer: 14

With my computer on the fritz (Best Buy says another week or so) it has been increasingly difficult to inform strangers of the amusing events in my life. Tragic, right? I know, I’ve had to leave out all the unnecessarily fun details about my blinky-intense boss and the girl who sat next to me in training who wants to start a corporate race riot or the fact that four out of four of those of us living in the apartment are hungover at 3 in the afternoon on a Sunday. My first week of work was pretty calm, but it was just training so it doesn’t count. Apparently I have a reputation that has preceded me and the entirety of the salesmen/women in my sales team expect me to be the best assistant ever, and then become a sales rep in a year… I hope they’re right.

In the meantime, I live on an air mattress in Jersey. It’s posh. I live with three girls who all make more than me, except one who is unemployed and currently asleep on the wood floor of her room after I pumped her full of pepto-absymal. Being unemployed in Jersey, I feel for her. Granted, she spent last week doing temp work in fashion- for an entire day she got paid to help Martha Stewart’s assistant try on wedding dresses. Apparently it will be a very interesting TV special.

I’ve been bouncing around the city in my free time. A glass of wine on the west side, a few too many beers on 14th street, tons of sangria in Hoboken, a high ball in Hell’s Kitchen, and so on. It passes the time perfectly when you’re with friends, which I’m fortunate to have a few of here. The Femme Fellows are housing me, and they’re great, Rick & Steve have provided me with drinking amusement (and one really awkward Olympics viewing experience), an unexpected visitor made yesterday a good drinking night (and we didn’t even accidentally mess around this time!), and the Harlem Harem keeps me very busy and happy.

Speaking of the Harlem Harem, we are the hopeful soon-to-be Brooklyn Brothel, or perhaps the Parallel Parkers (yet to be decided), as we’ve applied for a fantastic place in Sunset Park, Brooklyn. It’s gorgeous, but no use in getting excited until all the paper work goes through.

Work is starting, apartments are changing, friends are forming, I’m crashing people’s homes and commandeering their computers, and my bed is still deflating. Wine will help me cope with all these truths.

[and they say this is the job that people die for]

Fight Club

Days back in Michigan: 5

My computer blew up. Ass.

Home is an extremely bizarre place. There are entire fields of grass for absolutely no reason. There are stars at night… STARS?!?! And you can hear crickets when you’re trying to sleep on the couch of your entirely uncomfortable living room couch (not to mention that the house is without air conditioning). It’s kinda nice, though.

Needless to say, I am back in Michigan for a week before heading back out to the city. In a few short days the new job begins. Exciting! Until then, baseball games and Dominicans and ice cream and Project Runway. In that order. It is a far cry from the life I grew to love in New York, which culminated with Burkeman (yay!) and Dude Mathews drunkenly hailing a cab to La Guardia at 5 am. Bars in New York close at 4, so staying up the extra hour at a diner was no problem. Finding my ID in my bags while drunk in line to pass security, that was a bigger problem. When I tripped and fell in the Detroit airport during my layover I realized perhaps I should’ve slept a little before arriving home. Nothing says “you fucked up” quite like eating shit in the middle of a magazine store in an airport. Note to self: drinking on a flight is great. Drinking for six hours and then catching a flight- not so great. On the upside, the crying baby next to me on the flight stood no chance against my binge-drinking coma. I slept like that baby should’ve. However, that only lasted a half hour before arriving home, where my family was mildly horrified that I reaked of Jameson and hadn’t bathed in a few days. New York turns scion into a slob.

There is one large change between home and the city that I’m not adjusting to very well, I admit- my computer. Its on the fritz and cannot be revived until I am back in Manhattan. Only problem, I might not be going back to Manhattan…

While walking home on a Sunday evening Straight Boyfriend (of the Harlem Harem, a group I recently elected to live with) ran into three large men on the street. Well, he didn’t run into them so much as their fists. Multiple times. The attack is believed to have been racially motivated, as Straight Boyfriend is a large white Alaskan dude in the middle of a largely Dominican section of Harlem, but his attackers weren’t Dominican.

Forunately the incident was stopped before it could become to brutal, but he does have some bruising on his face and a severely broken desire to remain in Harlem. Thus the Harlem Harem may soon become the Brooklyn Brigade. It will be a journey.

Oh, and Weather Man will be back in the city when I arrive on Saturday. AND I’m living with the Femme Fellows in Hoboken for the month of August. And work, the first day of the rest of my life, starts on Monday (same day as Drag Queen Bingo).

It’s about to get very interesting.

[we are adventuring, we are adventurers]