In just a few short Weehawken weeks, Jenny and I have discovered the modern day phenomenon of todesterday- the awkward time of day between today and yesterday when you don't really know when to say "yesterday," "today," or "tomorrow."
For the extremely intelligent and lovable roommates, unfortunately, todesterday is usually an accidental occurrence. Like yester- I mean today for instance when we went to meet up with friends at 5pm in the city and accidentally stayed out until 7am. WHOOPS!
Of course, it couldn't just be as easy as that. We were actually in the bus ready to come home around 5:15 after hitting up about 5 bars/clubs and one 24 hour diner with our new Staten Island buddies. Then we waited. and waited. and waited at Port Authority for the bus driver to leave. It was approximately 45 min before one guy on the bus went up to the driver and said "if I give you a $20 will you go??" and the driver gave in. Thank God.
So we're on the way home and we tell the driver to drop us off at our street. We were the last people on the bus and the driver offered "door to door service for a few extra dollars" and the ever-charming "I'll mix you a drink and tuck you in for $5." Nothing but class for us friends, nothing but class. And then he drops us off at a street that looks nothing like our area. We get back on and tell him the street and cross-street one more time and he says "Oh no! You took the wrong bus!" which is exactly what you want to hear at 6:15am right? Like a madman he crosses into a lane of oncoming traffic next to a different bus and tells him where we need to go. We get out in the middle of the street and get into the other bus where we have to ride about 45 blocks with people heading to work to get even close to our area and then walk another 7 blocks to our front door. The supreme walk of shame. Don't worry, we dig it.
Apparently todesterday is a common occurrence here in New Yorksey. Do you think that everybody's todesterdays are as awesome as ours? I think not.
~B
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Monday, January 21, 2008
No Hands Jenny
It is freakin' cold out here in New Yorksey today. So cold, in fact, that I thought my hands might fall off turning me into an actress affectionately known as, "No Hands Jenny." It doesn't help that I apparently think that I can wear whatever I want as long as I wear it with tights. Today my ingenious choice was a dress built for summer wear with bright purple tights - did I mention it was FREEZING outside? Oh, did I also mention that I forgot to bring a hat and gloves? Did I also mention that I am an idiot? Good, I'm glad we've cleared that up. Lesson learned: I don't carry around the biggest shoulder bag that New York has ever seen to be unprepared - tomorrow I'll be stuffing extra everything in there.
Briann and I auditioned for the Amish today. I wish I was kidding, but the theatre really is called Amish Acres. I suppose it would have been good to know that before I decided to sing a cute song about infidelity...you know how hilarious the Amish think infidelity is.
In other news, our Landlord, Rob, came over today to give us a lightbulb and collect our lease. I realized when Rob came in and started looking around that at that particular moment, our laptops were sitting on my bed looking very "His and Hers" and that the picture of us hugging on the fridge, our cute table for two, Briann's unfinished room, and our talk of inviting some "Girlfriends" over for dinner were all coming together to make us look like a lovely couple to our Jersey Boy landlord. As he started to look around suspiciously I realized that there is no way to tell your landlord that you aren't a Lesbian couple without it getting really awkward.
Well, here's to being no handed vegetarian Lesbian's in the city, singing for the Amish, and changing our own lightbulbs - which is really hard to do without hands!
- J
*No harm meant to Lesbians, Amish, or no handed people.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
That would look SO good if I wasn't Vegetarian....
J and I decided to become vegetarians for a month for reasons having to do with animal cruelty, bodily health, and the ridiculously high price requested for rotting carcass at the store. I also just finished the modern day classic "Skinny Bitch" which is vehemently vegan. I would love to go crazy with the veganism, but it may be a little too intense for now... to explain let's look at our first "vegetarian" week in review.
Mon: We go to the store to pick up food (all vegetarian) then make a trip to Ikea where we proceed to scarf down Swedish Meatballs, of course
Tues: J starts drooling over the picture of a personal pepperoni pizza at Dunken Doughnuts.... yes, I said Dunken. Doughnuts. Then we proceed to get lost on our way home from shopping and we're both starving. Naturally we stop at a random pizza place run by really nice Indian folks and order one pepperoni, one sausage and mushroom pizza, and they thew in an extra cheese pizza for free (because apparently we look like the fat cows that we are inside... whatever, free food)
Wed: Our cookbooks are given a rundown so we could figure out what to make a friend when she comes over for dinner and I made the phrase "That would look SO good if I wasn't Vegetarian" a regular addition to conversation
Thurs: COMPLETELY VEGETARIAN!! Maybe we were super motivated... or maybe we didn't get our lazy asses out of our pajamas all freakin' day.
Fri: Walk down to the corner to get some pizza; I did a good job with the white pizza that would have been great with sausage. J decided to go original with a Pepperoni pizza covered in extra scalding hot oil. Well done, J.
Sat: Meet up with some friends in the city (B has been going on 3 days successfully Vegetarian) hang out until 4ish when J decides that we need french fries. Now. So we make our way to a really classy diner (that didn't have any ranch dressing... say what?!) and J and I end up stuffing our faces with buffalo chicken. Bravo ladies, bravo.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What is the moral of this story?
In order for meat eaters to become vegetarian, they need to be locked in their apartment for extended periods of time.
We will not give up this quest! We may not be very consistent, but we are making progress towards the "Skinny Bitch" lifestyle. Now if you'll excuse me, that chorizo breakfast burrito is totally calling my name.
~B
Mon: We go to the store to pick up food (all vegetarian) then make a trip to Ikea where we proceed to scarf down Swedish Meatballs, of course
Tues: J starts drooling over the picture of a personal pepperoni pizza at Dunken Doughnuts.... yes, I said Dunken. Doughnuts. Then we proceed to get lost on our way home from shopping and we're both starving. Naturally we stop at a random pizza place run by really nice Indian folks and order one pepperoni, one sausage and mushroom pizza, and they thew in an extra cheese pizza for free (because apparently we look like the fat cows that we are inside... whatever, free food)
Wed: Our cookbooks are given a rundown so we could figure out what to make a friend when she comes over for dinner and I made the phrase "That would look SO good if I wasn't Vegetarian" a regular addition to conversation
Thurs: COMPLETELY VEGETARIAN!! Maybe we were super motivated... or maybe we didn't get our lazy asses out of our pajamas all freakin' day.
Fri: Walk down to the corner to get some pizza; I did a good job with the white pizza that would have been great with sausage. J decided to go original with a Pepperoni pizza covered in extra scalding hot oil. Well done, J.
Sat: Meet up with some friends in the city (B has been going on 3 days successfully Vegetarian) hang out until 4ish when J decides that we need french fries. Now. So we make our way to a really classy diner (that didn't have any ranch dressing... say what?!) and J and I end up stuffing our faces with buffalo chicken. Bravo ladies, bravo.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What is the moral of this story?
In order for meat eaters to become vegetarian, they need to be locked in their apartment for extended periods of time.
We will not give up this quest! We may not be very consistent, but we are making progress towards the "Skinny Bitch" lifestyle. Now if you'll excuse me, that chorizo breakfast burrito is totally calling my name.
~B
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Adventures in Auditioning
The New York audition is a rare species that can bring even the best to their knees. Taking into account that I wasn't a great auditioner to begin with, you can imagine that I have made some less than stellar first impressions.
Audition 1: The role is a legit soprano - I decide to sing a saucy jazz song. Really good call, Jenny, really good.
Audition 2: I finish singing and they tell me I should come back for Hairspray.
Audition 3: Am typed out for Hairspray.
Audition 4: I have an out of body experience. I can see this red haired girl doing a modern interpretive dance while singing a Disney song. This cannot possibly be me, serious dramatic actress Jennifer Dunne. What a freak, that girl sucks.
Audition 5: I forget the words to my song and actually sing the word "SCHMOOOO" where a lyric should be.
Auditions 6 - 10: Much of the same, add a little bad dancing, some unfortunate attire, and some really bad song choices.
Audition 11: It's a miracle. I do not mess up the words to my song. I do not make my song into a sad imitation of a street performance piece. I do not try to sing exactly like the girl who just sang before me who sounds like Chenoweth on 'roids. I have a good audition. Finally.
Let's just pray that no one remembers that weirdo who decided it would be a really good idea to make, "Candle on the Water" into an audition song.
- J
New York, New Jersey, New Appliances
Snooze facts that everyone keeps asking about:
We are concluding our first week in our new apartment in New York (I mean, New Jersey). We are only a 10 minute busride from Port Authority/Times Square and have a GORGEOUS view of the city skyline just a couple miles away. Our place is small, which thankfully means we don't need to invest in as much furniture. And we have a gym, deli, dry cleaners, laundramat, pizza place, chinese restaurant, and liquor store right down the street. It's a very safe Italian neighborhood and we are very happy here so far. We live in Weehawken (it's even spelled like Jersey speak) which is right above Hoboken (again with the Jersey tawk). Our landlord will be living with his family on the first floor and the middle floor tenants haven't been selected yet. So for now, we are all alone on the 3rd floor of a brand new walk-up apartment dealing with our heat issues and brand new appliances all alone.
That's enough basic logistics. Let's get to the fun stuff:
My first night in town J and I went to a salsa club for a friends birthday party. It was a really fun place with a live band, sweet margheritas, and great dancers crowding the dance floors and the isles. It was amazing to be around men who weren't too stuck up or afraid to ask a lady to dance! Of course, I was dancing on beats 1 and 3 like a good little white girl. J, however, had a real knack for salsa, attracting salsa teachers and old latin men alike. It was a great night. We left to go home around 4 am and got on the PATH train where the birthday girl (also living in Jersey) was obsessed with singing songs from the musical Company aloud, J was given the number of a random homeless man, "Tom," who told her she was his dreamgirl, and we ended up sharing a cab with a couple drunken dudes from Hoboken. Perfect first night.
Cut to: Tuesday Night
Wok night. J made amazing stir fry and then turned the oven on to make some cookies. About 5 minutes in our fire alarm started going crazy. After lots of towel waving and confusion we opened the oven (for the 3rd time) and, low and behold, burnt plastic and charred paper on the top shelf. It was the instruction manual!! Okay, we knew the appliances were new but COME ON! Thank God the landlord hasn't moved in yet and that the oven is self cleaning...
We are very new at this story telling and blog thing, so hopefully this is a fun (and interesting) way to catch up with everyone's favorite "Diesel" and "GB". Tawk to ya layta!
*written by B
We are concluding our first week in our new apartment in New York (I mean, New Jersey). We are only a 10 minute busride from Port Authority/Times Square and have a GORGEOUS view of the city skyline just a couple miles away. Our place is small, which thankfully means we don't need to invest in as much furniture. And we have a gym, deli, dry cleaners, laundramat, pizza place, chinese restaurant, and liquor store right down the street. It's a very safe Italian neighborhood and we are very happy here so far. We live in Weehawken (it's even spelled like Jersey speak) which is right above Hoboken (again with the Jersey tawk). Our landlord will be living with his family on the first floor and the middle floor tenants haven't been selected yet. So for now, we are all alone on the 3rd floor of a brand new walk-up apartment dealing with our heat issues and brand new appliances all alone.
That's enough basic logistics. Let's get to the fun stuff:
My first night in town J and I went to a salsa club for a friends birthday party. It was a really fun place with a live band, sweet margheritas, and great dancers crowding the dance floors and the isles. It was amazing to be around men who weren't too stuck up or afraid to ask a lady to dance! Of course, I was dancing on beats 1 and 3 like a good little white girl. J, however, had a real knack for salsa, attracting salsa teachers and old latin men alike. It was a great night. We left to go home around 4 am and got on the PATH train where the birthday girl (also living in Jersey) was obsessed with singing songs from the musical Company aloud, J was given the number of a random homeless man, "Tom," who told her she was his dreamgirl, and we ended up sharing a cab with a couple drunken dudes from Hoboken. Perfect first night.
Cut to: Tuesday Night
Wok night. J made amazing stir fry and then turned the oven on to make some cookies. About 5 minutes in our fire alarm started going crazy. After lots of towel waving and confusion we opened the oven (for the 3rd time) and, low and behold, burnt plastic and charred paper on the top shelf. It was the instruction manual!! Okay, we knew the appliances were new but COME ON! Thank God the landlord hasn't moved in yet and that the oven is self cleaning...
We are very new at this story telling and blog thing, so hopefully this is a fun (and interesting) way to catch up with everyone's favorite "Diesel" and "GB". Tawk to ya layta!
*written by B
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