Happy Day After Columbus Day! (as observed by the Italian mafia)

Hello all,

I write you today from the porch on the steps of the New York public library, the one with the big stone lions on the front. I am flanked by a man "performing" some incoherent, slightly Mexican rap while invading everyone's personal space, yet he still apologized for bumping me, and a man yelling at the wall of the library.Oddly enough there is a difference between the two. Good times.

As for those of you who are avid readers of this blog and or know me, the situation marginally gets worse and simultaneously slightly not worse, maybe. The boy and girl still want me gone and threaten to kick me out, but Josh is trying extra hard, allegedly. Seriously all this situation needs is perspective.

ANYWAYS, yesterday was Columbus Day and I watched my first live NYC parade I took pictures to show how it went. YAY! Mind you, this was no Thanksgiving Day parade so don't be to excited, I imagine that all these m-o-o-k-s came from Jersey, which I can only assume is like saying people came from Kentucky, it's not a good thing.


The parade was filled with some pretty crappy floats. We made better ones when I was in high school.........but that's cause we rocked!


These men had hats covered in very fancy and luscious plumes. They were almost the most expensive hats in the parade, seconded only by some of the extensions the women were wearing.


From what I can assume these men were not elected officials but self-proclaimed, titular gods of the Italian community. Can anyone say mafia?


All the cops bikes were lit up, it was very pretty, the picture doesn't do it justice. But come to think of it, there around 50 cops on bikes, more than 200 dealing with traffic and the parade route, the mafia was there too, who was in the Italian restaurants?


There were 4 or 5 high school bands playing at the parade, everyone filled with ugliest, most ethnically diverse group of acne covered teenagers I have ever seen. They played well, but man were they unattractive. After realizing that they were so hideous, I thought, "Well, I can't take a picture of that. I'm really doing the world a service by not condoning ugly children." But, there was this little boy FlAGette in the mix, struttin' his stuff, poc-faced, bad hair and all. I just thought wow, that's confidence like I never want.


This was a float with Teddy Roosevelt, a large version of Napoleon, and a large steel ship.........I did not see the connection. I'm no history buff, so if you know please explain.



This lady was awesome, by far the best part of the parade. She was singing Italian songs and in her down time would yell at the crowd in Italian and only accept responses back in Italian. She was very gracious if you repeated her or spoke of you own accord. I had no idea what she was saying but you knew what her point was. "Try speaking my language or my husband and his friends, walking in the beginning of the parade, will come back here and kill you. Happy Columbus Day!"


This poor man had no car, float, candy to hand out, or even a jacket. But he sure did have a giant sign that said "Weiner" behind him being carried by a menacing looking Jewish guy. I felt so sorry for him. Everyone was laughing at him, I was too that's why I took a picture!


"Hey Mom, why is there a float with a jazz band, the Pink Panther, Sweet and Low, and old pictures of Regis Philbin in the Columbus Day parade?"
"I don't know, I just don't know."

I said that that singing woman was the best part of the day but as per usual it was the celebrity sighting of Will Forte from SNL. I have soon many celebrities since I have been here Amy Poehler, Rachael Dratch, , Christian Slater, that woman who plays Ugly Betty's older sister, Hunter Parish from Weeds, a huge hand full of Broadway stars and this morning the crew from the Today show.

I'm Gonna Be Homeless

Hell-o all,

I have very nice clothes, a college education-private school no less, and at risk of being homeless.

My boyfriend has 2 roommates, a boy and a girl with the same name, so I will call them the boy and the girl. They were both opposed to me coming here and have both asked and threatened me to leave on behalf of both of them. Welcoming, no?

The other day one of them came into Josh's bedroom where I had been staying isolated, as not to get into their personal space, he takes Josh's keys that were left for me and tells me I have 10 min to get out(!). WTF? He says that he is not being irrational but even though I am not in his space and am not affecting him I have to leave. He didn't care where I was going but I couldn't stay there. Mind you all of these threats, of which these are about 10%, were peppered with fuck this, fuck you, and fuck that, ending in calling me a pussy.

I'm sorry, you uncharitable dickwad, I'm here with my arms and legs wrapped around a bed so you can't come and throw me out onto the streets of Manhattan, I think a note of desperation in my voice is more than adequate. This has been just one in a onslaught of reasons that I should come home. I am here to make it work with the BF. I understand that this may be infringing on your petrie dish of a life, but mind your own GOD DAMN BUSINESS! GROW A BRAIN! BE A NICE PERSON! AND GO AWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Although he was willing to be late to work for me to leave, he would let me iron my clothes before I left, but still would not give me Josh's keys so that I could give them to him for us to come back later. Bipolar much?

I came back with Josh that night and the next day talked to Mom about the situation. After understanding that he did not have "designs" on Josh, because he is straight and undesirable, she asked if I could buy him out of his lease so that he could go away.

"No, Mom. Finding an apt. in NY is very had and he was here first. He's just an asshole."

"Huh, well. is he an aspiring actor?"

"Yes."

"Well then, we can just pray that he makes it big, really soon, so he leaves."

"Or that he gets hit by a bus."

"Yes, either one would work, we can pray for both."

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We can do that?!? I mean my Mom and God are like BFF and she just said that we can pray for God to hit this asshole with a bus. People get killed in NY everyday and a little divine intervention to weed out someone who is inflicting me personal discomfort would be awesome. I mean I'm baptized AND confirmed. Doesn't that count for something? So I ask you gentle readers, all 4 or 5 of you, if you believe in God or not, if you believe in Buddha, Santa, or science, PRAY. Pray that the powers that be hit this king of the douche-monkeys with the biggest, heaviest bus New York has to offer. Maybe one of those double-decker touristy ones!

My life wasn't supposed to be this dramatic. Isn't that why I'm in the arts? I do not need this stress in my life. I do not need to be homeless. I have suffered enough. I know what many, all 4 or 5 of you are thinking. What about Josh? What is he doing? Fabulous question.

Mother Fucker!

Hello all,

As many of you know I moved to New York on Sat.. There is a stinking crap load of stories I could tell you (Believe me!) but some things just need some perspective. So, easy up! Step off! And give me some time! I wish there was a smiley face symbol of some black chick craning her neck and waving her finger. I'd put it here.......no I wouldn't. I hate those things.

Anywho, I will say that the day I moved here, and it was a long one, I said mother fucker more than I have said in my whole life.

Starting my morning crying to my dog because of the guilt I feel by leaving him in IN. Being a fair-skinned person, if I cry you can tell for days. So on the way to meet Kristy and Tod for our drive to the airport I was trying to refresh myself, but not dry out my face all in 30 min.-sniff, mother fucker, sniff.

I clearly thought that every posh New Yorker needs an umbrella with some character. So naturally, I brought my Mary Poppins umbrella, the one with the parrot head. I saw the Broadway production, that's where I got it, and it was the best part of the show. Anyways, with all my crap, I dropped it. 1/3 of the beak cracked off and I could only 1/2 of that by crawling all over the airport check-in floor.-Mother Fucker!

Once I landed, Josh leaves me a message saying that he can't meet me at the airport to pick me up. - GOD, Mother fucker!

I was then forced to deal with all of my bags by myself. Their weights were 64lbs., 44lbs., 25lbs., a computer case, a winter coat, and a broken Mary Poppins umbrella. The whole picture was me trying to carry all of this while trying to keep my cute outfit clean, fresh, and effortless for the big reunion.- God, Damn Mother Freakin-fucker!

I had to take a bus to meet Josh and had to communicate with the Asian bus driver, making me move my bags myself.

" 'E si'e, 'e si'e!"

"What!?!!?"- Mother Fucker!!!!!!!!!!

Riding the bus into the city I heard about 9 different languages in about 15 min. and thought I had gone criminally insane. I had no idea what was going on. Was I a minority now? Is this how it feels when my parents see one black person while on a day trip to an Indy mall? -Mother fucker.

After I had reached my destination, the bus driver flung open the door and said " 'E here!" I got off of the bus, he opened the door under the bus where the luggage was held and gestured for me to crawl into the belly of the bus and get my luggage myself. After I had uncocked my eyebrow I started to get into the bus and he drove away!- MOTHERFUCKER!!!!

He was just driving into the nearest available parking spot. Still though, right? Me=pissed. He still insisted on me crawling into the storage of the bus to get my bags. I was on all fours, completely in the beast, heaving with my whole body to get my last bag out and it ripped because of some vertical divider.-Mother Fucker!

After a quick game of phone tagto find eachother in a one block radius, I look up and see my estranged boyfriend effortlessly looking crisper and cuter than I had ever seen him.- mother fucker.

Do I Not Make Sense?

Hello all,

I have come to the conclusion that I must not make sense. So many people I talk to think that I'm kidding or not understand what I'm saying, I feel like a crazy person.

Ex. 1

There is this girl I work with who is fairly meek and outgoing, which is an odd combination. She walked up to me the other day and said,

"Am I to understand that you are moving soon?"

"Uh-huh."

"Am I also to understand that you are moving to New York?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Ooh! Is that New York proper? Manhattan, as in?"

"Yeah. I leave on Sat."

"Oooh! Omigosh! Are you like going to be on Broadway?!?!?"

Clearly joking. "Yeah. Probably on Sun."

"Really? That's so amazing! You just went up like 1000 points on my personal scale. I should totally Facebook you so that I can come see you on Broadway the next time I'm there."

"Uh.....k."

Seriously that happened, she is in college so she can't be retarded or anything. I mean there are some pretty stupid people out there, some of which went to college, but she should wear a helmet to bed to avoid death.

There is this guy at work who totally wants to molest me. I have batted my eye lashes and brushed him off, pretty much on a daily basis since I have worked there because a little harmless flirting never hurt anyone. It's like charity, you know, like my public service for the year. I let him make his ever growing advances and I smile and walk away, but the other day he got serious.

"Hey Noah. I think before you go you should come over to my house and we could sleep together. I'd be like Vegas, ya know, what happens here stays here. So what do you say?"

"Indiana is nothing like Vegas, and I have a boyfriend."

"So that's fine, right? So you're saying that you're just going to leave me and we're probably not going to hang out before you leave?"

"No, we're probably not going to hang out."

"Oh Noah, you're so funny. That was like, so honest. That's so funny. But really........."

I walked away. Sometimes being gay is like being a giant pink elephant. When you're in a room with another pink elephant, everyone thinks that you should hook up, just because you're the only pink elephants in the room. That theory is even harder to disprove when the one who thinks it the most is the other pink elephant.

Just like accidents, the most confusing conversations happen at home.

"Noah, do you remember the Rosenburgersteinsens?"

"No, Mom."

"The ones that lived down the street?"

"No."

"In Lafayette?"

"No."

"They had that dog?"

"No."

"Their older daughter was your baby sitter."

"......no."

"You said that their younger daughter came up to you in a speech class and introduced herself."

"No."

"Well, anyways. They were hablah blah blah blah balh ablh bah balh ablyh ablh ablh ablh ablha blha blha blha blah blah blah blah blha blha bla blha blha blah blah blah blah blah blah ablh blah blah blah blah bah wedding, and they're going to be lucky to get a pastor."

"Well, you don't need a pastor to get married."

"If you want to be married under God you do."

"Um, isn't God everywhere?"

"Well, yes."

"Then why does it matter if a pastor does it? Won't God will be there regardless."

".........Well........you just do."

This reminds me of a day at the fair. I was sitting in a lawn chair reading A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and Mom walked across the barn talked to some woman, hugged her, and came to sit by me. I asked:

"Why did you hug that woman?"

"Because her father-in-law is about to pass away."

"Oh."

"And, he hasn't accepted Jesus into his life."

"So........."

"So, he's going to hell."

"............So let me get this straight. Just because he doesn't believe in our god, he's going to our hell?"

"Yes."

"Just wanted to make sure I understood." I continued to read my book.

It's way more fun to talk about God with Mom, still acting like your faith in Him is in the present tense. But, in all reality, there's more evidence proving that Santa exists.

I feel like a pretty linear person, but by the way people respond to me I must be crazy.

Graham's Cause and Effect

Hello all,

When I was in 3rd grade Mrs. Mauer, my teacher, taught my class about cause and effect. When there is a action there is reaction.

Ex.

Cause.
Dad had his own personal Rambo marathon this past weekend.

Effect.
He's been wearing a red bandanna rapped around his head all week long while he has been doing yard work. I don't have the heart to tell him that he looks ridiculous.

I just took Graham, my Scottie, to Purrs and Grrs to get groomed and thought that this was a good time to use cause and effect to retell the situation for the blog.

Cause.
I like to take Graham to froo-froo places to get him groomed.

Effect.
I have to deal with the people who work there calling him my "Baby" and feeling proud when they call me his "Daddy"

Cause.
I like to take Graham to froo-froo places to get him groomed.

Effect.
I have to sit through an action demonstration of why a dog stroller is a good investment, not realizing that the stuffed animal in the stroller was a real Puggle until I left.

Cause.
Graham gets a haircut.

Effect.
I get a whole evening of Mom saying things like, "He looks so different!!", "He's so cute, now!!", "His hair looks like Seth's!!" "Have his ears always been so big?!?", "Did he change color?!?", "He's still so dark, I can't see his eyes! I just want to put little light bulbs in his eyes so I can see them!" That is why my parents are not watching Graham for any extended period of time.

Cause.
Graham gets a haircut.

Effect.
Spike, my parents Boston Terrier, humps him because he looks so pretty.

Cause.
Graham gets a haircut.

Effect.
Dad pays Graham more attention realizing that he could give him a better haircut like he did all of his frat brothers in college if only I would hold him while he jabs the sharpest scissors he can find at his face, after telling me yesterday that no matter how many new pairs of glasses he gets he can't see as well as he used to. Regardless, Dad like his hair short cause it also reminds him of Seth.

Cause.
I pay for Graham's haircut

Effect.
As much as I try to direct the attention to me, Graham gets all the attention. Damn!

He does look really cute though.

The Phantom of the Basement

Hello,

I am under a lot of stress, it's a whole nother story.

The other day I was in the bathroom and I peed all over myself. It's gross, I know, but it happened. I like to sit down to go to the bathroom sometimes, it takes the pressure off aiming, and I didn't realize that when I "positioned myself", I was pointed between the toilet seat and bowl and ended up peeing out all over my legs and pants. Thank God I was home and nobody was awake. But, Jesus Christ! I am 25 years old, why am I peeing on myself?!?!? I feel like an invalid! That, people, is how stressed out I am, I'm so stressed out, I peed myself!

One of my new favorite things to do when I get home from work is to take the dogs out and have a nice drink in my hand. Looking at the 2 acre estate that is in no way mine, I like to feel like I'm a lady of leisure. As I was almost done with my Leinenkugel, I sat down on the grass and the dogs one by one came to see what I was up to. Graham, my Scottie, came, we hugged , he left. My parents Boston Terrier came and put his front paws on my legs and kept on starring at me. "Stop it.........go away.........what?" He just kept on starring at me. I looked down and nestled in his torso, sprouting from a little white muff, an octopus tentacle was coming at me.

"AWABOUYAAAAH!" That also is gross. I have never seen such a large disgusting penis come out of such a small dog. But on the other hand, it was nice to be flirted with for a change.

Yesterday was Friday and we all know what that means.............Pizza Night with the 'rents. After Dad came home with the pizza, he started to clear the table while I was in the living room watching TV. I look up just as Dad yells, "God damn it, Graham!" and hits my dog across the face.

"What the hell are you doing!?!?!"

"Well, he kept pressing his wet nose up against my leg!!"

"Do you hear how crazy you sound?"

"We'll he had it comin'!"

"He's a dog, you crazy old bastard!"

To far, I know. Mom chimed in, yelling at me not to call him that, even if I didn't mean it, but I probably did. I did. We fought a little more and I stormed downstairs not finishing my Pizza King pizza.

While I was in the basement I went through boxes, drank some beer, read a book, I forgot how much there is to do in the basement. When I was in high school I spent most of my time down there and forgot how empowering the cool and musty air was. It was time for me to emerge and get that pizza that was bought for me, and was deservedly mine. The door to the upstairs was closed! I didn't close it!?!? As I started to climb the stairs I heard voices coming from the sun room that were not my parent's. My parents locked me in the basement to hide me from house guests! I was the Phantom of the Basement! I looked through the crack in the door but couldn't make out who was up there. Everyone was speaking with a Hoosier slur and talking about the fair, so I thought I'd avoid that bullet and stay in my sanctuary. When the voices were gone, I popped onto the surface and took the dogs outside and found what the visitors were all about.

There is a Mike Phipps sign on our yard the size of a dinning room table big enough for the Brady Bunch. Apparently, Mr. Phipps is an acquaintance of my parents running for som county seat (which I thought went out if business long ago for plaid overuse) and was buttering them up with some 4-H talk so that he could but that eyesore on the lawn. He was just using them. I mean I was using them too but that was for pizza....and were related. Vote Phipps!

Late Night Bromance?

Hello all,

I have not been posting lately because of my work schedule. I go in and mentally check out, so there's a big part of my day I don't remember. I have been trying to stay cognitive for the last couple so I could spew out a blog worthy of me.

So there is this guy at work..............I know what you're thinking, I wish. No, he's some big guy, a real blowhard, a belligerent ass. He makes all of these chauvinistic jokes to the girls, but I think he has a bit of a thing for me. Yikes!!! Everyone has noticed.

The other day he came up to me and said, "Hey, ya know I used to teach hip hop." How would I know that? I hate people who say that they teach hip hop, yoga, personal trainer, same thing, everyone thinks they can. No, you can't. Anyways, he came up to me and said, "Hey, ya wanna see me do something cool?" No no no no no no, "Um......k."

He turned around and said, "I can shake just my ass." He proceeded to what he thought was an isolation of his his ass, but because of his ample stature and the law of inertia, his whole body vibrated like the cup of water on the dashboard in Jurassic Park once the T-Rex was on the hunt. I almost threw up.

He was so proud of himself. I said, "Well......ya..........Uh........ I, ur.", and quickly left, pretending to look busy. He has done this to numerous people in front of me hoping to see some validation in my face. It ain't gonna happen. He comes up to me and feels my arms saying that he wished and and was trying to get a "Skinny-Minnie" body like mine. Thanks?

I am moving to NY in 2 1/2 weeks and he is thinking on moving back and tries to give me advice that sounds like this:

"Hey, ya know about the red buses, the ones run by the Mexicans, do you know where those let out, they come right into Times Square, for only $2, yeah, their great, it only takes 20 min., anywhere in the city, 20 min., that how it was for me, yeah, their run by immigrants and they don't charge a lot of money and they might go under ya know because of the government but what are ya gonna do, huh, speakin' o' which, who are ya gonna vote for, politics don't mean much to me, but who, huh, who, come on, it's not gonna piss me off, who."

He does this to me 9 times a day, I 'm secretly plotting his death.

Last night I was watching David Letterman and Richard Simmons was on. I never really realized how much Richard Simmons and my mom look the same. Same hair, chunky white tennis shoes, very excitable, like a small dog. Although, his clothes are much more interesting and colorful and his legs look better in shorts. Seriously Letterman, what kind of world do we live in where Richard Simmons gets 2 segments and Mary Louise Parker only gets one? He was lucky Craig Furguson was on after him or I'd be getting very pissy. I used to watch Conan, so I flipped over to see who his guests were, they were good, but then you have to deal with watching him. That wasn't worth the effort. Seriously watch Craig Furguson.

I'm thinking about getting a Mr. Potato Head. I'm going through a stressful time in my life, and when I do, I find it comforting to get obsessed with simple things. When I was applying for colleges and scholarships I got a Bear in the Big Blue House coloring book and a Crayola 96 box to avoid the stress mandated by Mom.

"Noah, the Kiwana's scholarship for mediocre red heads is due this Monday when are you going to start working on it?"

"I don't know, I'm out of plum do you think Pip and Pop could be wisteria instead?"

"What?"

"Pip and Pop, Bear's otter friends. I think their brothers, or maybe just friends, I don't know, but I know they're the same color."

"Noah, you have to finish this, are going to do it or not?"

"Yes, but the sharpener on the box is crappy. If the crayons aren't sharp it looks like a 2 year old colored this."

"Noah!!"

"I know, 2 year olds don't really color too often."

Yes, I should get a Mr. Potato Head.