Day 3

Somehow I missed day 2 of the year.  I also missed the memo that the Rose Bowl had been changed to January 2^nd.  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 2^nd - 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 3^rd – 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.

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. 

On the Precipice of a New Year

So Long 2011

You were a decent year.

Top 10 favorite moments:

11:11

11:11 has stood out to me for quite some time.  Maybe because it's a palindrome - I like the symmetry, or perhaps it's because I have a weird obsession with Gimetria.  (SP?)

I do!  (I just spoke this aloud; my roommate turned from the book she is  reading, confused by my outburst.)

But yes, this is an epiphianic moment for me.  It's true, I have a strange obsession with numbers. 

But then again, so did the writers of the Bible.

The writer of Matthew even went as far as fibbing some of the genealogy line to Jesus, so that there could be 3 nice sets of 14.  He skipped a few people, just for the sake of presentation, or because the number 14 is the number that represents King David.

And then there is the symbolism of 12.  And the symbolism of 7 - a number of wholeness and completion.  I was hoping that the 7th guy I kissed would be "the one" but then 8 and 9, came along and now I'm hoping for 10 to be the final.

As I explained to number 5, pre kiss, if I kiss you, then I have to start counting on my other hand the number of guys I've kissed.  For some reason I was hesitant, but the summer air in Hollywood convinced me otherwise.  Or maybe it was his motorcycle or pausing to dance in the middle of street, well after cars had ceased to parade through the neighborhood.

That night he suggested we get married.

I laughed.  And perhaps in doing so, hurt his feelings and confidence.

He recovered, by stating, "I just thought it sounded romantic."

The fling lasted no more than a month after that night.

He explained to me over an e-mail that he was moving to New York.

Funny how I also live in New York, yet it doesn't matter anymore.  Time has taken us our separate directions.

But 11:11, well that's a time that still stands out in my mind.

Because it is a wishing time.  Or so my friend Emily from California once told me.



And funny, that I never got to to what this post intended to be about - the night of 11.11.11... a birthday party in the Lower East Side at the Mercury Lounge...

But perhaps it's best that I skip the events of that evening, because although it started well, it didn't end well.  There was no dance that evening, yet the dance must somehow find a way to continue on.

I think I need a new time.  Perhaps 10:10 is better suited for me. 

Gallery Girls

Last night my director friend texted me around 10 pm, insisting that I join him.  I had already determined that I was going to call it an evening, but when it comes to social happenings I'm easily swayed... and so I put my black boots and my coat back on and headed down 34th Street.

Soho on a Saturday Night

Soho = South of Houston.  Houston, pronounced house-ton, is a street that cuts across Manhattan Island.

For the longest time I had no idea what Soho meant - perhaps because I rarely spent time in the area.  But then I met this guy who resides in Soho, and this past month I've ended up at his place every weekend.  To clarify, not in the stay the night sort of way.  But rather he has hosted events and conversations.

And last night.his roommate threw a Halloween Costume Party and for some reason I was invited.  To be honest, I don't think I should have been invited, but I was and since I was, I wasn't going to miss it.  So my friend Sally Ann (dressed as a viking) and I (dressed as an Indian) took the subway downtown to Prince Street.

We made a friend along the way - he was dressed as a carton of milk, with a sign that stated, "I'm am the 1%, Occupy the Fridge."  He was a med student at Yale and got off at the subway just before ours.  I'm regretting now that we didn't exchange any info, or even names.  But I did catch the names of several others that I met throughout the evening.

Emmitt was the most memorable.  He's oringally from Lake Forest, Illinois, and played tennis and golf in high school, and well, I can't really tell you much else about him, except he's a great dancer and we spent much of the evening out on the dance floor together... hot - yes.  But I knew he wasn't for me.

My Debut on ESPN

At 9:35 this evening I received the following text: Your mug and name was just on ESPN.
The text was from Bryan Devonshire - Professional Poker Player Extraordinaire.  I met up with him and his fiance in Las Vegas on my roadtrip cross country over the summer.

It just so happened to be during the World Series Poker Tournament Days 7 & 8.  And it just so happened that I was able to stick around long enough to see Bryan finish 12th out of over 6,000 players who entered the competition at $10,000 pot.  Evidently the camara caught a few shots of me while I was there - but Bryan also said my name was mentioned, which means that he probably talked about me in an interview. 
That's CRAZY - this is the same guy who taught me how to surf  back in 2002 when I worked at Forest Home summer camp in So Cal.

Professional poker playing is an interesting "sport" - to say the least.  Some may look down on this "sport," but I can't help but wonder if poker players are much different from entrepreneurs who take financial risks in hopes to someday gain a profit.  Hmmm...

I told my roomie Shannen the news when she returned to our apartment after and she told me the news, "I think I just got hit on... in the elevator...by women..."

"What?  Are you serious?!?!"

Shannen nodded yep, and explained that one of the woman told her, "You're cute.  What floor do you live on?"  Shannen cautiously answered the question and the same woman continued on introducting her to the other, "This is Joanna, she's new here..."

Shannen is a wee bit traumatized.  I would be too.