Recently in Apartment Fun Category
As you remember, Illeana Douglas is a huge favorite of mine. Really, anyone that can make me laugh as much as she does has a permanent place in my heart.
I've gotten wind that Illeana is working on a new show set in IKEA (oh, come on, you know you love their swedish meatballs). It sounds like Ms. Douglas will be playing an employee at the Burbank IKEA, and I can only imagine the trouble that she'll get into there. Let's just hope she knows how to use a hex wrench.
And let's hope she's not as creepy as the IKEA closet people.
I was an avid reader of fairy tales
when I was a child, but I didn't learn until much later in life that you had to kiss a few frogs (ok ... maybe more than just a few) in order to find your Prince Charming. In that spirit, I have made a new purchase.
Thanks to Josh Rubin's new Holiday Gift Guide over at Cool Hunting, I'm now going to be one uber-hydrated guy this winter. What's that you say, Josh? The gift guide is meant to help people find presents for other people? Sigh. Maybe hydration will make me less selfish this Christmas.
when I was a child, but I didn't learn until much later in life that you had to kiss a few frogs (ok ... maybe more than just a few) in order to find your Prince Charming. In that spirit, I have made a new purchase.
Thanks to Josh Rubin's new Holiday Gift Guide over at Cool Hunting, I'm now going to be one uber-hydrated guy this winter. What's that you say, Josh? The gift guide is meant to help people find presents for other people? Sigh. Maybe hydration will make me less selfish this Christmas.
As I entered the building this evening, I was greeted with a hallway full of smoke. 'Great,' I thought, 'The three inches of crude oil that leaked out of boiler onto the basement floor has finally ignited.' But, before I could evacuate the building, my nose got the better of me. This smoke wasn't caused by a fire.
I ventured inside.
I slowly climbed the staircase through the haze. Hardly able to see in front of me, I noticed that bad-techno-neighbor's door was open - exposing a 6 foot hooka in the middle of his floor - spewing 'smoke'. Someone spoke, 'Duuude, I think we did something wrong - this can't be right - I need to get out of here. It's too much even for me.' Some sketchy looking 'dude' ran into the hallway and pushed past me - heading down the stairs and out into the fresh air. Bad-techno-neighbor stepped into the hallway. I tried to speak his language, 'Um, dude, is our building on fire?'
He looked at me with a dazed expression, 'What do you mean?' I replied, 'Duuuuude, don't you see the smoke? I can hardly see in front of me.' Backing into his apartment and closing the door, he mumbled back, 'I don't know what you're talking about.' [slam]. I shrugged my shoulders and began climbing the stairs up towards my apartment when I heard the door squeak slowly open. Just sticking his head out, bad-techno-neighbor looked at me with his glazed eyes and called out with honest-to-god fear in his voice, 'hey dude, if the building's on fire, make sure you tell me, ok?'
'Sure,' I thought as I heard his bad techno pumping in the background, 'sure thing duuuuuuude.'
I ventured inside.
I slowly climbed the staircase through the haze. Hardly able to see in front of me, I noticed that bad-techno-neighbor's door was open - exposing a 6 foot hooka in the middle of his floor - spewing 'smoke'. Someone spoke, 'Duuude, I think we did something wrong - this can't be right - I need to get out of here. It's too much even for me.' Some sketchy looking 'dude' ran into the hallway and pushed past me - heading down the stairs and out into the fresh air. Bad-techno-neighbor stepped into the hallway. I tried to speak his language, 'Um, dude, is our building on fire?'
He looked at me with a dazed expression, 'What do you mean?' I replied, 'Duuuuude, don't you see the smoke? I can hardly see in front of me.' Backing into his apartment and closing the door, he mumbled back, 'I don't know what you're talking about.' [slam]. I shrugged my shoulders and began climbing the stairs up towards my apartment when I heard the door squeak slowly open. Just sticking his head out, bad-techno-neighbor looked at me with his glazed eyes and called out with honest-to-god fear in his voice, 'hey dude, if the building's on fire, make sure you tell me, ok?'
'Sure,' I thought as I heard his bad techno pumping in the background, 'sure thing duuuuuuude.'
In further neighbor news, the new deadbeat-downstairs-neighbor has taken to playing bad techno music as loud as his stereo goes until the wee hours of the morning. The music is so loud, in fact, that he could not hear me pounding on his door for 15 minutes at 3 in the morning. It was so loud that it made my floor vibrate and gave me the experience of walking on a bouncy trampoline as I made my barefoot way to the phone to file the second noise complaint of the evening. (OK...the commercials don't tell you have UNhelpful the 311 operators really are).
'Ah,' you may say, 'get some earplugs and you'll be fine.' Been there, done that, doesn't work - the music was so loud that I could still feel the beat surging up from beneath me. So - what could I do but take a sleeping pill ... drugs solve everything, don't they?
Apparently my downstairs neighbor had the same idea. When I confronted him today, he told me that he had done a lot of drugs and passed out (why he had not heard me knocking) with the music blasting. Sadly, I believed him - swollen eyes at 8 in the evening and all. Even more sadly, his music has been playing til 4 or 5 in the morning every night this week. That's quite a drug trip.
Actually, the music is playing even now. Any advice on how to deal with the situation?
Sincerely,
Sleepless in Manhattan
'Ah,' you may say, 'get some earplugs and you'll be fine.' Been there, done that, doesn't work - the music was so loud that I could still feel the beat surging up from beneath me. So - what could I do but take a sleeping pill ... drugs solve everything, don't they?
Apparently my downstairs neighbor had the same idea. When I confronted him today, he told me that he had done a lot of drugs and passed out (why he had not heard me knocking) with the music blasting. Sadly, I believed him - swollen eyes at 8 in the evening and all. Even more sadly, his music has been playing til 4 or 5 in the morning every night this week. That's quite a drug trip.
Actually, the music is playing even now. Any advice on how to deal with the situation?
Sincerely,
Sleepless in Manhattan
I should have seen this coming. My bathroom door has been giving me trouble for a couple of weeks - I just never thought it would come to this...
Rewind to:
12:45 - Drink nice cold glass of water to keep hydrated.
12:51 - Close bathroom door to prevent sounds of the leaky farrah faucet from keeping me awake.
12:52 - Apply Chapstick to prevent dry lips.
12:53 - Climb into bed, hit the lights, and ponder insomnia.
12:59 - Oddly enough begin sleeping soundly.
Fast-forward to:
4:15 - Roll over in bed (slightly awake) and realize that I need to go to the bathroom.
4:16 - Ponder the fact that my bathroom is so close that I probably don't even need to leave the bed ... just open the bathroom door, which can be reached from my bed.
4:17 - Realize this is a bad idea.
4:26 - Finally get out of bed and walk to the bathroom door ... I twist the knob, and lo and behold, it comes off in my hand. The door remains closed. The knob remains in my hand. A little piece of plastic that does some little piece of magic inside the door to make it open has fallen mysteriously to the floor. I poke and prod the exposed insides of the door knob mechanism - nothing seems to work.
4:28 - I get my screw driver and begin to disassemble the door knob completely. Halfway through this process, I realize that the other side of the knob will fall onto the tile floor in the bathroom and likely crack the tile. I play with the insides a bit more and realize we are dealing with serious fuckage.
4:30 - I walk to the kitchen and ponder using the kitchen sink.
4:31 - I realize that this is a poor idea at best.
4:32 - I sit on the foot of my bed, staring at the door, thanking my lucky stars that I was not inside the bathroom when the knob decided to twist off into my hand. Realizing I most likely would have been trapped in my tiny (and that's being generous) bathroom for days ... I begin to think what's in my medicine cabinet that is actually edible.
4:35 - Halfway through this exercise, I realize that I really do have to use the bathroom.
4:36 - Grabbing my screwdriver, I change the handy-dandy magnetic head from phillips to flat and have a go at the hinges. I pop them one by one, lift the door away from the frame, and walk into my now-doorless-bathroom. 4:38 - Ah. Relief.
Fast-forward to:
4:45 - Lying in bed. Listening to the water drip into the tub. Wide awake.
4:50 - Drag my tired ass out of bed, pop a nice little pill, and hope that I'm out soon.
5:00 - Insomnia? My ass! The universe is out to get me, I tell you.
Rewind to:
12:45 - Drink nice cold glass of water to keep hydrated.
12:51 - Close bathroom door to prevent sounds of the leaky farrah faucet from keeping me awake.
12:52 - Apply Chapstick to prevent dry lips.
12:53 - Climb into bed, hit the lights, and ponder insomnia.
12:59 - Oddly enough begin sleeping soundly.
Fast-forward to:
4:15 - Roll over in bed (slightly awake) and realize that I need to go to the bathroom.
4:16 - Ponder the fact that my bathroom is so close that I probably don't even need to leave the bed ... just open the bathroom door, which can be reached from my bed.
4:17 - Realize this is a bad idea.
4:26 - Finally get out of bed and walk to the bathroom door ... I twist the knob, and lo and behold, it comes off in my hand. The door remains closed. The knob remains in my hand. A little piece of plastic that does some little piece of magic inside the door to make it open has fallen mysteriously to the floor. I poke and prod the exposed insides of the door knob mechanism - nothing seems to work.
4:28 - I get my screw driver and begin to disassemble the door knob completely. Halfway through this process, I realize that the other side of the knob will fall onto the tile floor in the bathroom and likely crack the tile. I play with the insides a bit more and realize we are dealing with serious fuckage.
4:30 - I walk to the kitchen and ponder using the kitchen sink.
4:31 - I realize that this is a poor idea at best.
4:32 - I sit on the foot of my bed, staring at the door, thanking my lucky stars that I was not inside the bathroom when the knob decided to twist off into my hand. Realizing I most likely would have been trapped in my tiny (and that's being generous) bathroom for days ... I begin to think what's in my medicine cabinet that is actually edible.
4:35 - Halfway through this exercise, I realize that I really do have to use the bathroom.
4:36 - Grabbing my screwdriver, I change the handy-dandy magnetic head from phillips to flat and have a go at the hinges. I pop them one by one, lift the door away from the frame, and walk into my now-doorless-bathroom. 4:38 - Ah. Relief.
Fast-forward to:
4:45 - Lying in bed. Listening to the water drip into the tub. Wide awake.
4:50 - Drag my tired ass out of bed, pop a nice little pill, and hope that I'm out soon.
5:00 - Insomnia? My ass! The universe is out to get me, I tell you.
I actually had a phone conversation today with someone whose name is Butch. I almost laughed when he told me his name. Thank GOD I have a modicum of self control.
Boi From Troy's new re-design is not only hot ... but it also makes me feel oh-so-butch. I like to leave it on my computer screen for people to see when they walk by.
I was butch today and installed a new knob on my bathroom door. While I was doing that, there was someone in my shower. Shocking, I know. ... Sadly, it was just the Super fixing the leak.
Hint: Things are funny in threes.
Boi From Troy's new re-design is not only hot ... but it also makes me feel oh-so-butch. I like to leave it on my computer screen for people to see when they walk by.
I was butch today and installed a new knob on my bathroom door. While I was doing that, there was someone in my shower. Shocking, I know. ... Sadly, it was just the Super fixing the leak.
Hint: Things are funny in threes.
My 16oz can of Best-Test Paper Cement used to reside on the window ledge above my radiator. However, I recently noticed that when my heat went on, the can would expand - making very funky 'thick-metal-crinkling' noises. When the heat when off, the vapor inside the can would cool, and there would be similar (yet opposite) 'thick-metal-crinkling' noises. This morning, I actually read the side of the can:
When using extinguish all flames and pilot lights, turn off stoves, electric motors and heaters. Avoid sparks, static discharge and other sources of ignition. Avoid skin contact.Excellent! Did I mention that I have practically no ventilation in my apartment and have been using this stuff for years?! It's a wonder I haven't blown myself up yet. And how many times have I rubbed paper cement all over my hands in order to create a hand full of boogers to the joy and amazement of my friends?! The 16oz can of Best-Test Paper Cement no longer resides above my radiator. It is currently stationed on my desk, next to my monitor, where I can keep a constant (and suspicious) eye on it.
The big fat man in red brought me the following:
• the Peter Max coffee table book inscribed with '4 [insert my name] love Max' and a design made out of my initials on the first two pages
• 7 pairs of surprisingly sexy underwear
• 1 pair of socks
• 7 jars of assorted spices (including chives, dill, sage, and marjoram)
• color ink for my printer
• large jar of cashews (Santa knows I like nuts!)
• a can opener
• rainbow colored (cause I'm gay) velcro ties for my comptuer wires
Yippie! A pretty successful year for presents if you ask me.
• the Peter Max coffee table book inscribed with '4 [insert my name] love Max' and a design made out of my initials on the first two pages
• 7 pairs of surprisingly sexy underwear
• 1 pair of socks
• 7 jars of assorted spices (including chives, dill, sage, and marjoram)
• color ink for my printer
• large jar of cashews (Santa knows I like nuts!)
• a can opener
• rainbow colored (cause I'm gay) velcro ties for my comptuer wires
Yippie! A pretty successful year for presents if you ask me.
Well, this weekend has turned into quite the Holiday Bacchanalia (and it's not over yet)!
Taking a wee little break this afternoon to spice up my living room - I wound 50 feet of twinkling Christmas lights around a 10 foot long curtain rod. The dense pole of festive sparkles adds a whole new element to my apartment (and you can see it from the street!). Love love love it. I did, however, almost go crazy when I had to find the one burnt out bulb. Out of 450 ... I think it ended up being #439. And no...I'm not kidding.
Ignoring N's mother's excellent advice to cut my losses, forget about sending out Christmas cards (too late) and just send out New Year's Cards - I spent the wee hours of the morning filling out 8 special cards to individuals that would just be crushed if they didn't hear from me (and 10 cards to family members who, card or not, are contractually obligated to 'love me anyway'). It turns out that, much like drunk-dialing, writing Christmas Cards when you are smashed is never as good an idea as it sounds. Although I'm not really sure what I wrote to people, I think I may have 'come out' to a few family members and accidentally sent at least two cards to the same person. Happy Holidays indeed!
Now that I am in the holiday mood, I can actually start my Christmas shopping. And thanks to Addaboy, I can keep track of how many shopping days I have left.
N's Holiday Fete made me so super happy that I've been in a good mood all weekend long. Everyone was jovial, beautiful, and super sweet. Good thing I missed the first half! And what can I say!? N's tree gives mine a run for the money (especially after copying the bondage top technique used to light the top of the tree!) ... I mean, she has candy canes on hers. [sigh].
Taking a wee little break this afternoon to spice up my living room - I wound 50 feet of twinkling Christmas lights around a 10 foot long curtain rod. The dense pole of festive sparkles adds a whole new element to my apartment (and you can see it from the street!). Love love love it. I did, however, almost go crazy when I had to find the one burnt out bulb. Out of 450 ... I think it ended up being #439. And no...I'm not kidding.
Ignoring N's mother's excellent advice to cut my losses, forget about sending out Christmas cards (too late) and just send out New Year's Cards - I spent the wee hours of the morning filling out 8 special cards to individuals that would just be crushed if they didn't hear from me (and 10 cards to family members who, card or not, are contractually obligated to 'love me anyway'). It turns out that, much like drunk-dialing, writing Christmas Cards when you are smashed is never as good an idea as it sounds. Although I'm not really sure what I wrote to people, I think I may have 'come out' to a few family members and accidentally sent at least two cards to the same person. Happy Holidays indeed!
Now that I am in the holiday mood, I can actually start my Christmas shopping. And thanks to Addaboy, I can keep track of how many shopping days I have left.
N's Holiday Fete made me so super happy that I've been in a good mood all weekend long. Everyone was jovial, beautiful, and super sweet. Good thing I missed the first half! And what can I say!? N's tree gives mine a run for the money (especially after copying the bondage top technique used to light the top of the tree!) ... I mean, she has candy canes on hers. [sigh].
Having a hot fireman wake you up at 4 in the morning is a very nice thing. He was sweaty. His hair was tousled. He had a big stick. It's a very nice thing. A nice thing, that is, unless he is waking your sorry ass up to tell you to put on some clothes because you might have to evacuate your building. Yes, that's right, last night there was apparently some sort of fossil fuel leakage in the basement of my building. After cutting through three different doors with an enormous chain-saw like device (because the 'super' with the keys was no where to be found), they dragged some pickle tubs out into the street that looked like they may, at one time, have contained some sort of toxic waste. Two were full. Two were mysteriously empty. Not soon thereafter, the group of 12 firemen (yes, I counted) jumped back into their trucks and were off. Eventually, the smell of fossil fuel faded away ... and that was the end of that. Or was it ...
Did you ever wake up in the morning and wish that there was someone sleeping next to you that you could cuddle with? I felt like that today ... 'cause I was cold. I tried hugging my pillow - but he didn't do the trick. I figured a nice steamy shower was the next best thing to ... um ... warm me up. But no, the universe was conspiring (once again) against me. Not only did I have no heat this morning ... but I also had no hot water. I didn't even have warm water. So, being the resourceful guy that I am, I filled up all my pots on my stove, turned on the gas, filled some pyrex bowls with the warm water, carried them to my bathtub, got naked, and poured the warm water over my head. I have to admit - I pretended that I was a cowboy and that this was how I bathed every day. It was oddly fun - although I'm not sure how clean it got me.
I am a mathamatical genius. I've discovered a new formula:
One Evergreen + Good Friends + New Friends + Unexpected Friends + Good Whiskey + Pastries from Venieros + Hot Cider = A Beautiful Christmas Tree.
One Evergreen + Good Friends + New Friends + Unexpected Friends + Good Whiskey + Pastries from Venieros + Hot Cider = A Beautiful Christmas Tree.
Ah. Winter - my old friend. You have finally returned. After toasting to you with Jack last night (who says a Jack on the Rocks doesn't help antibiotics along), I awoke this morning (with a slight headache) to find that you had already begun your mischief. Luckily, those huge snowflakes are damn beautiful as they float to the ground. Here's a view from my window (notice the postman still delivering mail):
In other trash news, there was a new find on 2nd Ave and 5th Street as we were off to a late night Indian food fete. From atop a huge heap of garbage, we rescued a swank little real Scandinavian chair (read: not from IKEA) and sauntered off with it to the delight and amazement of the small crowd that had gathered on the sidewalk to 'oooh' and 'ahhhh' our amazing new find. This city has a lot to offer if you are open to it.
In other trash news, there was a new find on 2nd Ave and 5th Street as we were off to a late night Indian food fete. From atop a huge heap of garbage, we rescued a swank little real Scandinavian chair (read: not from IKEA) and sauntered off with it to the delight and amazement of the small crowd that had gathered on the sidewalk to 'oooh' and 'ahhhh' our amazing new find. This city has a lot to offer if you are open to it.
Despite my illogical fear of the impending doom (and by 'doom', I actually mean 'winter'), I was excited to wake up to a brief-but-beautiful snowstorm. For a moment, the world stood still - like watching white dots whirl around the frozen tableaux of a snow globe. But suddenly, time cracked (Rosebud!) and began to spill forth - filling me with giddy excitement. The world was moving again. I'm looking forward to getting my Christmas tree this week - and I'm even more excited to have my friends over to help me decorate it. I haven't quite decided if I will stick to tradition and fill the tree with handmade paper and acetate stars (with silver lining - mind you) ... or if I will start a new tradition and come up with something new. There's just something so magical about tiny white lights illuminating stars of all sizes stuck in branches as if they had snowed down from the heavens to bring the earth and the sky together.
Today was a good day. A damn good day. I am thankful for the following:
1) That today was such a damn good day
2) That I successfully moved my entire apartment around
3) That my dad helped me carry things from room to room
4) That my dad was in the other room when I managed to fumble my porn DVDs, handcuffs, condoms, and lube - sending them skidding across the floor
5) That I managed to hide all of the above before he came into the room to see what all the commotion was about
6) That my dad thought the sample of 'Boy Butter' he spotted under the couch was actually lip balm
7) That 'Boy Butter' actually tastes like butter (being that my paranoia forced me to slather some on my lips so he wouldn't suspect that it was anything other than lip balm)
1) That today was such a damn good day
2) That I successfully moved my entire apartment around
3) That my dad helped me carry things from room to room
4) That my dad was in the other room when I managed to fumble my porn DVDs, handcuffs, condoms, and lube - sending them skidding across the floor
5) That I managed to hide all of the above before he came into the room to see what all the commotion was about
6) That my dad thought the sample of 'Boy Butter' he spotted under the couch was actually lip balm
7) That 'Boy Butter' actually tastes like butter (being that my paranoia forced me to slather some on my lips so he wouldn't suspect that it was anything other than lip balm)
I live in an old tenement in the East Village. There are three other apartments on my floor. In the last month, all three of my neighbors have moved out. I can't help but think, 'Is it me?'
