Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Day 3

Somehow I missed day 2 of the year.  I also missed the memo that the Rose Bowl had been changed to January 2nd.  Who does that?!?!  That’s like moving Christmas Day to the December 26.  It just isn't right.  And to not properly inform your tax paying citizens who purchase the crap that is advertised on the commercial breaks?  What kind of country do we live in?

On the first of the year I kept flipping through my 8 TV stations hoping that I would eventually catch a glimpse of the Rose Bowl.  But sometime around 10 pm, I had convinced myself that I had missed the game altogether.

I went into work the next day, disappointed that I didn’t have the knowledge to intelligently talk about the game with my coworker Nick.  But Nick hadn’t returned from vacation yet, and no one else seemed to have football on their minds, so as the day progressed my disappointment eased up and finally felt okay by the fact that I had missed the one football game that I make a priority to see every year. 

Later in the afternoon – on the 2nd - I was confused why my friend Kim, who lives in Lithuania, posted on her facebook that she was up watching the Rose Bowl game late at night.  I thought that was foolish for her to stay up and watch the replay of the game, and to cheer on the ducks (who had already won or lost), when she could watch the replay during a more reasonable hour of the day.

I refrained from commenting with such a tip, and instead decided that it was time to overcome my sickness by heading to Rockwood Music Hall to hear my friend Adjoa Skinner play her first show in New York.  Adjoa, who also goes by Emily (and probably a few other names that I don’t know about), and I met several years ago in LA – in a restroom.  We became near best friends in one conversation, but then I never saw her again – except on facebook.  She added me as a friend, and to her e-mail list, and that’s why I knew she was in New York.

And so I went, and heard her sing about being tall, and men being too short, and as I drank my overpriced margarita – I wondered why e-harmony keeps trying to set me up with men that are shorter than me, when clearly we are not a match.  I haven’t officially signed up from e-harmony, but I’m nearing the day – I’m not sure how near, but nearer now that I have grad school out of the way (or so I hope; I’m still crossing my fingers that I pass my last class.  I could fail – and I’m not joking.)

When I got home from the show my roommate informed me of some horrific news.  Not only had I missed the Rose Bowl on January 1 – the one that didn’t happen – I also missed the 2012 Rose Bowl that had been played on January 2 – the one I COULD have watched, but was misinformed by bad newsfeed in my facebook updates. 

I cried. Okay, not really.  But I did console my football viewing loss with a cookie and diet coke.

But today – January 3rd – was a new day!!!  And I knew today would be a good day, because I knew for a fact that Michigan would be playing a football game – and I knew I wasn’t going to miss it.

And so after work… and after my first nondate, date of the year at a nearby pub, with a near stranger from LA, I was off to watch some football with some U of M fans that go to my church.

After watching the game, I decided that it is time for me to start tap dancing again.

But not tonight – for now I need to get to bed and ponder all the funny things that I could have written in the past half hour, but didn’t because the thought didn’t occur to me until it was too late.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

New Beginnings

I started the year standing at the corner of 38th Street and Broadway - too far from the heart of Times Square to experience the real thing, yet close enough to see the fireworks, and to stand among the crowds of people hoping to catch a glimpse of something.

We caught a glimpse of nothing - except people climbing up street poles and on top of telephone booths in hopes to get a better view.  They didn't, but I'm convinced they felt a tad more special by their elevated status and the fact that they could look down on us and shake the ashes from their cigarettes on top of innocent bystanders below.

I was one of the innocent bystanders.

Then again, the people I sat beside on my two legs into the city earlier in the day were also innocent bystanders, except they were bysitters rather than by standers.  The poor woman on my flight to Philly, and the handsome man I sat beside the rest of the way into New York were both exposed to my germs and my incessant sneezing.

I start this year sick, and confused by the man on Broadway dressed up as Santa Claus.  He must have missed the memo that Santacon was weeks ago.