CAN SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN THIS TO ME?

i get the whole "orange dress for halloween thing" (sort of) - but why does katie insist on this foolish nonsense? the poor kid even looks like she's over it. (CLICK ON IMAGE TO ENLARGE)

Confession

For the past few weeks I've been spending a couple of my weekdays sleeping in EXTRAORDINARILY late. I (almost) feel bad about it. But yesterday my guilt was exonerated after I accepted the job offer, knowing that my days of snoozing well into the afternoon were numbered. No more PJ's 'til 3pm, lounging around in my robe watching daytime tv and wasting countless hours on the computer.

To my credit, i've spent a lot of time going out and getting a job, as well as adjusting to the city and doing both of our life and house chores.

But I'm not gonna lie, I sure am glad I'll have a place to go every day come November 10th. So you heard it here first: HOORAY FOR WORK!

(ps-Please don't judge me by what is on my television.)

what I don't know could kick the crap out of me

Crissy and I were getting coffee together this morning, and she made a crack about my stupid, huge headphones that I had hanging around my neck. Sure, maybe they look a little ridiculous, but the sound! It’s so much better than those crappy little iPod buds.

But it’s not only about the sound. They also protect my innocent ears from the slings and arrows of angry New Yorkers. For example:

It was eight-something in the morning, about a week ago. I was minding my own business, waiting on the subway platform for the 4 or 5 express. As the train rolled in, I joined the usual rugby-scrum for positioning outside the doors as the cars groaned to a stop. Suddenly, I felt someone’s hand on my lower back.

Push.

No way that just happened, I thought to myself.

Push.

Suddenly, fire truck sirens and fireworks and nuclear explosions are going off in my brain. Few things are more maddening than someone shoving you from behind. One of those things is someone shoving you from behind into the flow of passengers exiting a train. Naturally (because the dude was smaller than me), I leaned back hard and dropped an elbow into him.

Unfortunately, as I did this, my balance shifted into the path of an angry (and much larger than me) take-no-shit-from-nobody black woman exiting the train, who thought I was jockeying for position in her personal space. Without hesitating for ONE SECOND, she lowered her shoulder like a salivating linebacker and put a hit on me that made my teeth clack. I could swear I saw her pupils dilate just before the hit.

Thankfully, I bounced off the little bastard behind me, who was supported by the rest of the scrum, and scurried onto the train. This sent the woman into a rage, screaming obscenities from the platform. Which is where the headphones come in…

I’m sure what she was saying was bad. I’m sure it was aimed at me. By the slack looks on people’s faces around me, I’m sure it was emasculating. But I didn’t hear any of it. Or, I should say, I didn’t hear much of it.

Let’s say, for the sake of discussion, that I was listening to The Beatles “Let it Be.” Here’s what I would have heard:

When I find myself in times of motherf*#ker you better run trouble
Mother Mary will beat your sorry motherfu*%in come to me
Seeking words of in my motherfu#*in sight wisdom
Let better not look this way bitch it be…heeeeeee!

Though under any other circumstances this 6-second crisis would surely have destroyed the rest of my day, thanks to my trusty headphones, I could not have cared less.

And it only took about a half-hour for my back sweat to dry.

november 10th, 2008

is the first day of my new job. hooray!

i took a position as a broadcast producer at a medium-sized ad agency. nothing super sexy, but it's a job in this dreadful economy AND i get lots of vacation time (now i will just have to see if they actually let me take it).

a blast from the two months ago

Well, this past weekend was a smashing success, I gotta say. We got some fantastic hang time with a few friends we haven’t seen in awhile. And let me tell you, it’s so nice hanging out with people you like. It makes hanging out with people that much more enjoyable.

Friday night we were paid a visit by Rob and Katie, two old work buddies from Element79 who were in town for a producer’s summit. We were gonna go out on Thursday, but we decided to hold off one more night so we could do dinner and really whoop it up afterward.

I suggested either Thunder Jackson's Urban Roadhouse, or Señor Swanky's Mexican Cafe and Celebrity Hangout. We ended up going with the Tribeca Grill, a fancy restaurant in our neighborhood rumored to be owned by Robert DeNiro who, to our shock, was not in attendance. What a gyp.

Regardless, the food was excellent, and we washed it down with large amount of delicious, delicious alcohol, including a bottle of pink bubbly ordered by Rob. Halfway through dinner, I was already “tellin’ it like it is!” and the night was just getting started.

After that we stopped by a neighborhood bar for a couple beers, before deciding that we should bring our friends back to check out our place and touch our stuff. Now, I have to admit, things got a little hazy around this point in the evening, but the flashes of memory I do have include the following:

1. Watching a Steve Martin magic act on YouTube.

2. Cursing the locked door to the rooftop deck, staggering down to ask the doorman what the rooftop hours are, only to have him (Howie, not recognizing me) respond, “the rooftop is closed at two thirty in the morning.”

3. Having a loud, passionate sing along at around 3 in the morning to Puff the Magic Dragon.

We woke up the next morning with angry brains, a foul taste in our mouths, and some confusion over what happened the night before. And you know you’re getting old when, instead of cigarette butts in beer bottles to remind you how the night went, it’s the iTunes purchase email for Puff the Magic Dragon that makes you mildly queasy.

The following night we met up with my old college buddy Kurt, who was in town from Newburgh, NY, which is about an hour north of the city. We headed out to a bar, had a few drinks, and pretty much called it a night. When Kurt, who’s about 6’6”, decided to generously pick up the bill, he had our friend Ken sign it for him. Why? Who knows? But Ken dutifully capitalized on the opportunity to make Kurt look like a prick by signing, “Kurt Najork, #44, “ his high school basketball number.

The following morning, Kurt stopped by to check out our place, before we all piled into his car and headed up to The Stumble Inn for beer and football. Our buddy Tyler’s younger brother Keith tends bar there, so we yukked it up, made fun of some hillbilly Dolphins fans, and decided to head home.

Highlights from the day were Crissy’s onion rings, and my burger stuffed with Swiss cheese. Which, not surprisingly, were lowlights several hours later.

P.S. This is a picture Katie and Rob. I think they're trying to figure out who's singing lead and who's singing harmony on "PTMD; the Extended Jam."

shake it baby

today was my first experience with the "world famous" shake shack. it is indeed a shack and it's located in a corner of madison square park. in my quest for a great burger and fry, i did extensive research on the joint and even google imaged photos of the food. they have a live webcam on their website so you can see how long the line is before you venture over there. and the stories i've heard of the long lines at this place are true (see my last photo if you want proof).

being a chicagoan where the favored local cuisine is anything-fried-goes, i consider myself somewhat of an aficionado on the subject. my verdict on the shake shack: what is all the fuss about?

the shack burger was great (shack sauce, lettuce, tomato, american cheese - and be sure to ask for pickles), but the cheese fries left much to be desired. the fries were good enough on their own (and fried in trans-fat free oil) but the cheese was a mix of slightly chunky/creamy and tasted like actual melted cheese. i guess i'm just used to portillo's where the cheese is so creamy and delicious you could drink it straight from a cup.

but i will probably try this place again. i'd like to see if the "shack-cago" hot dog really stands up to what we get at home.

check out the webcam around lunchtime on a weekday and look at the line yourself! you won't believe the madness.
www.shakeshacknyc.com

work sweet work

I really hate to make all my posts about lame-ass work, but I've had several people ask me what my workspace looks like. Lucky for me (so I don’t have to go around taking pictures like a total nerd) there’s an article about this place in the latest issue of Interior Design Magazine, complete with pics.

I guess they gutted these offices a couple years ago, brought some fancy-pants designer in here, and really put the scrub to everything.

And I won’t lie. When I interviewed here, I was damn impressed. Ok, I’ll admit it…I was intimidated. Coming from an agency that looked like a series of low-rent law offices, it’s kind of refreshing to work in a place where they at least TRY to make it feel creative.

So, for those of you that care (both of you, anyway), I present to you…the place where I spend 80 hours a week! (tadaa)