i joined the ymca

and i like it.
really, really like it.

see, the thing is, i have not ridden my bike much since moving here. when going into the city it just feels a bit dangerous, and when in brooklyn it's so much simpler to just catch the train or walk without worrying what will happen to your bike should you lock it on the street. shit disappears here rather quickly.

so since bike riding has not been a common activity, i've felt sort of lazy. i do a lot of walking (at least much more than i am used to) but it still doesn't cut it. after debating with myself the pros and cons of joining a gym i decided to try it, with a goal of sticking it out for at least 2 months and a 2 sessions per week schedule.

this is week two. so far, so good.

last night i went to the gym at around 8 o'clock after eating some dinner and taking bullet out for a walk. i brought my headphones with because this is one of those newer gyms that has equipment with mini tv screens built in, offering around 20 or so cable channels to watch while you're exercising. i got on the elliptical, plugged in and starting flipping the channels in hopes of getting to something at least mildly entertaining.

i was on for maybe 5 minutes when i discovered that the world series of poker was on. the final table, there were only 7 players left in a huge, no-limit hold 'em tournament. of course, i glued myself to the screen. at this point, i had burned 30 calories and was already sweating.

first commercial break and i was shot. i had been on the thing for 10 or so minutes but it was starting to get harder and harder. only one person had been eliminated from the game and now they were down to six. i had to see who was the next one out.

second commercial break hit at 19 minutes. i slowed down, around 150 calories down and five players remaining. the game was getting intense and i was getting tired as hell.

third commercial break. four players. tired legs, arms, lungs. i continue moving, but at 27 minutes, it's hard to do anything.

fourth commercial break. three remain. i can't feel a thing.

end of program. i've been on for 45 minutes. the table has counted down to two.

the final head to head game will be broadcast the next day, they announce.

damn.
sweating, out of breath and horribly thirsty i get off the damn thing and walk the six blocks home. i curse the television and the game itself. at the same time, i make bets in my head on who i think would take it in the end.

you better believe i will be there tonight to see how this shit ends.

second visit to the y in two days, and nothing but my gambling addiction to thank.

few observations from the strange place i call home these days

run dmc sell a lot of dim sum


if you're lonely, there's always a place where you can go to meet new friends



and should you not meet new friends there, the dong club is always a reliable bet

well read

my trek to midtown every morning puts me on the subway for thirty minutes. on the way back, it comes to a whole hour. during this time, i have perfected the blackberry game of brick breaker, killing everyone in the office in the competition (ok, maybe just katie and the competition is probably only in my head). aside from that, i've read plenty of magazines, enjoyed countless episodes of this american life and done enough people watching for a century.

another thing i've done is read books. i've read more books in the last few months than i have all last year. some have been lame, others super cool, but they've all kept me entertained for the most part.

here's a few pretty good ones:







and these were so-so:





good or bad, i'm pretty happy i've started reading much more than usual. i've been feeling so fullfiled by it that i've started compiling a list of books that i'd like to read in the next couple of months. check it out here. warn me if i have some garbage on there or give me a suggestion.

xoxo

in the last 24 hours...

...

i took the longest shower ever. ever ever. a new water heater was installed this morning and it's huge. huge huge. so much so that one can take a 75 minute shower without running out of hot water. the only reason i stepped out was because i was suffocating myself choking on all the steam in the bathroom. next time, i am taking a bath so i can stay in longer.

i sat in the audience of the conan o'brien show. he is freakishly tall. and they cake him in orange make up. loads of orange make up. and the show is not as funny as it is on tv when you are sitting in the crowd. there is this huge AUDIENCE light that blinks when you're supposed to clap and laugh loudly. it lights up when conan makes a funny remark and the audience does not respond boisterously enough. in theory, it makes sense. when you're there, however, it's this intimidating presence yelling at you in light language to shout and hoot and clap and freak the fuck out. so...yeah.

i took bullet out for a walk at 2am.

i inserted the assumption of traveling to japan for work in a conversation with the people organizing the project and no one said no.

i drank a grasshopper - apple, pear, lemon and ginger juice. so unbelievably delicious.

year one

may 12th, 2007 i was in a good mood.

drinking beers on a porch of an old victorian on lyndale, it was hot outside and minneapolitans were getting amped. after all, after eight months of winter, a little bit of southern wind can cause major celebration in those parts. and who can blame us?

it was saturday. i was drunk.

across the street, lori was dj'ing at the soo vac gallery. i jumped ship and crossed the avenue, meeting up with arthur mid-way, mid-traffic, mid-thought. with beer in hand, we stepped onto the sidewalk and took note of the time, "damn, only six o'clock? we've been drinking since noon...going this rate, it'll be bedtime at eight." as always, some form of rescue came, and soon enough, i was awake, alert, and quite ready to take on more of what the evening had to bring.

carissa and matty met me up at the art show, which was nice, since matty agreed to be the driver downtown. there was a show in the entry and i wanted to see it. i was easily excitable, super entertaining and full of energy to a fault. as i sat in the back seat matty and carissa tried aimlessly to appease my music requests, with each failure causing major uproar. at one point, i remember saying, "there's nothing but shit music in your car. stop. stop the car. i am getting on a bus." but we made it, no bus fare spent, and i stumbled my way to the entry. it was maybe 9:30.

i remember it was nice to see my buddies there. it always is. we have this way of congregating in all the same places, whether we try to or not. mary and i had a beer, then another, then another. eventually i was almost unable to stand so i took a seat on the dead speaker by the bar, right in between two friends i hadn't seen in a long time. jordon and bird are always the quiet guys at a show, you won't see them acting up or dancing around - it was no surprise as i dumped my heavy body on the speaker i found i was sitting right in between them, disrupting their space, conversation.

i am not sure if we talked about anything. i don't even know how long i sat there. but soon enough, all the beer i had drank wanted to empty itself, and my bladder started pushing. "fuck," i thought, "i can't get up." i turned to jordon and, in one way or another, communicated i needed some assistance walking up to the bathroom. gentleman he is, he grabbed on to me and we walked, first to see the entry bathroom had a huge line, then next to the mainroom, up the stairs and all the way down by the vip lounge.

when i came out, he was waiting. he helped me down, and we both decided maybe it would be nice if we just stayed away from the entry for a second. the music was loud, the room packed, the crowd insane. the mainroom seemed like a tranquil oasis in comparison.

i don't know what we talked about, nor for how long. i only remember mary coming up to me and asking me if i needed a ride home. "no, no, no," i told her, " i am having a great time talking to jordon." she nodded, looked at him, and said, "i see. but is jordon having a great time talking to you?"

i didn't know. maybe not. maybe so. but fuck it, i didn't care.

that night, we climbed rooftops. literally. we drove around in cabs and played soccer in living rooms. and at 6am sunday, jordon and i played a game of scrabble. we didn't keep score, but i am pretty sure he won.

ever since then, may 13th has been special. we've survived a year with each other and still, it seems, i am having a great time talking to jordon. hopefully, jordon is having a great time talking to me as well.

point a to b

welcome to my evening commute.

gossip girl

first day back from mpls, this monday, i came home from work exhausted, hungry and bored. all the excitement in mn did not prepare me for the dreadful workweek without my man. lucky for me, araby always has a plan. before i even got home from the subway station, there was a text on my blackberry "bbq. now." my thoughts? "hell yes"

i got home, changed to cutoffs since it's hot as fuck here, leashed bullet and walked the three blocks to araby and jade's lovely home. by the time i got there, which i swear could not have been more than twenty minutes, the barbecue was in full effect. all i had to do was sit down, grab a bratwurst and a chicken breast and devour the deliciousness steaming in my hands. bullet got some pieces too.

after the face stuffing ended, we went inside the house to relax a bit and watch some tv. this is a big deal, you see, because araby had just gotten an antennae and we could actually watch regular programming. that said, i've got to tell you, regular programming is pretty much the shit. we watched an episode of gossip girl (only god that i am not sure i even believe in can judge me) and i was hooked. can't wait until next monday.

here's araby, jade, lori and bullet watching gossip girl


and here's lori feeding bullet cake

on making it rain

the idea of when it is appropriate to make it rain, and the few instances where it is most definitely not, has been occupying my brain.

i posed this question to my dear friend george:

v: so...i've been listening to a lot of m ward lately. a lot. does that make me gay?
g: [no response]

hmm.

this is real

this morning i saw a van parked on my street with the shittiest, graffiti painted sign on it. it read, "HOOD ESTATE" only the way it was painted it looked like lood estete. don't ask. unfortunately, i didn't have a camera to snap a pic.

thinking of it later today, i decided to do a quick google search on the subject. lo' and behold...



no fucking joke. the best part though,


apparently, this book moisturizes.