I went to a coloring bar at the Strand on July 21 as part of my journey of self-development. Alone. Continue reading →
Went to my first NYC bar trivia last night in East Village. I’ve only been to one other trivia in Bethesda, Md., but this one was the best one.
My team tied for 10th place, which isn’t bad considering there were about 30 teams playing.That’s a lot of teams. There were a lot of drinks and food. There were five rounds, and prizes to be had (books).
I was never good at trivia. Back in Maryland I rarely “participated.” I sat at the table. I took in the atmosphere. I watched everyone wrack their brains to remember that one random fact they “knew.”
Last night was different, and it probably helped that I was able to get my buddy A to come along. Everyone had their weaknesses and strengths. I’m embarrassed to say that I should know my journalism-related trivia better.
But A and I were proud to know what WHIP stood for. Neither of us are hard core baseball fans, let alone sports fans.
There were five rounds. The first was a “this day in history” which was a lot of fun because I had briefly read some stuff for that day. What good that did. I couldn’t remember the name of the field the Cincinnati Reds and Brooklyn Dodgers played in 1939.
The second round was the music round. I learned that I need to start paying more attention to artist and band names.
Third round was based on the theme of demons and demonic things. Fourth round was acronyms. The fifth and final round was categories. That one was a doozy.
I need to start reading more random things for next week’s trivia.
In what has become an interesting turn in a (short) series of events, I have moved again.
My things: bike, dishes, desk, and books on books on books were boxed up for the third time in a year. They were thrown into boxes, taped up, and transported with care from one dwelling to another to another.
It’s one thing to talk about mobility from city to city. But regular mobility within a city? Holy cow.
Let’s just say, I do not plan on moving again any time soon.
famous last words?
I’ve been told by a few people that in this city, moving around from neighborhood to neighborhood, borough to borough—and quite often—isn’t quite as strange as it might seem in, say, the DMV area.
Needless to say, moving sucks.
MD ➞ Bushwick ➞ Flatbush ➞ Bushwick
My initial move to Bushwick, from Maryland, was one year ago. About six months later, due to personal reasons, I moved out.
I went from a “three” bedroom, shared with two other New School grad students, to a studio in Flatbush shared with no one. The only “company” I regularly had was the drunk-sounding “Haitian Gangster” that roamed the hallways in the building. Other times it was some guy who regularly left his “stuff” in my neighbor’s apartment. Every few days you’d hear him banging, quite hard, on the door and yelling at the apartment dweller. Cursing up a storm. There were also the random door bell ringers at 2 a.m. asking to be let in because they forgot their building keys. There was a lot of that. Oh, and you can’t forget the occasional visit by the cops.
But lest that quick description leads your imagination to wander, it never escalated beyond that.
Flatbush was, compared to Bushwick, a much quieter neighborhood.
Mostly residential, Flatbush reminded me of parts of D.C. and Maryland. A mix between parts of Silver Spring, Md., the area surrounding Meridian Hill Park, and a stretch of 16th Street after Military Road.
It has a very calm atmosphere. Well, at least it feels that way when you’re not walking down Church or Flatbush avenues. Cortelyou was slightly busier than the residential side streets, but not by much. There were quite a few cafes and restaurants that I particularly enjoyed, but in the end, everything just felt “too far.”
Not so in Bushwick. This area, butting up against East Williamsburg on the east, and Ridgewood on the west is much busier. It’s much more lively.
It’s great to be back in this neighborhood.
One year after my initial move to the city, I make my way back to good ol’ Bushwick. One street down from my first apartment, on the opposite end of the Myrtle-Wyckoff/Jefferson stretch.
The late-night blaring of music from the streets. Random corner shops. Businesses with odd hours. Multiple grocery and markets to choose from. A park where I can watch other people’s dogs. Dog shit littering the sidewalks here and there. Rats scampering about the night before trash day. The chaos of biking to and from Manhattan.
It’s all here. And I don’t plan on moving again any time soon.
famous last words?
In the summer months, the NYC Parks Department puts on these free summer movies, and on Friday I had the opportunity to go to my first, free summer movie.
On the beach.
At first it was a bit awkward as we approached the makeshift, inflatable projector screen—all blowing this way and that in the wind—and heard the squeaky sounds of cartoon characters.
There weren’t very many people at this point, but there were noticeably many children.
And their beady eyes were fixed on the inflatable screen.
My Little Pony ლ(ಥ Д ಥ )ლ
The pre-movie, vanity-filled cartoon wasn’t on for too long, or, more accurately, M and I got up to run to the Stop & Shop up the road to use the bathroom, and pick up some snacks, so I missed what was left of that shenanigan. (The beach didn’t have public bathrooms, hence the trip to the grocery store.)
We got back just in time for the start of Guardians of the Galaxy, which I didn’t realize until then was a Marvel comic.
The beach was windy. Sand was kicked up into our faces and into everything we owned. Every fiber of our clothes. Every exposed nook and cranny of our being. Children were well-behaved (and they started leaving with their families at different points in the movie).
And, of course, the movie was a lot of fun. I had a great time, and did laugh heartily here and there throughout the film. It was a little awkward to see the screen warp and bend in the wind, cutting bits of the screen, but it was a nice wind-down activity for a Friday evening. I’ll have to revisit the movie again sometime, on a screen that doesn’t give to the wind.
Happy 4th everyone! (or I guess at this point, it’s happy post-fourth?) Continue reading →
Published July 25 2013 | Rules for Engagement/Education Week
Tracy Martin, the father of Trayvon who was shot to death last year, spoke with other witnesses yesterday, emphasizing the need for increased opportunities to improve the outcomes of African-American boys and men.