Tonight I paid $8 to watch the Bonnies in one of their (team=its, Bonnies=they) most exciting games in the history of me hearing of SBU. Jessie & I bought hefewiezen & IPAs and sat on the balcony in 50 degrees – because how about this weather!! – and SBUDed all over my laptop. Following that, I learned that a slight beer buzz, the excitement of an SBU win (especially over Duquesne) and Rage Against the Machine live are the ingredients to an incredible run around the neighborhood. I hadn’t planned on it, so I wasn’t even wearing a sports bra, but my lungs don’t even feel that Turkish Silver I peeled & inhaled at halftime.
I’ve been thinking recently how the young, high school Tanya would feel about the old, 23-year-old one. She’d be a little pissed I haven’t yet gotten on Jeopardy, but I’d promise her the time is nigh. Can you just imagine if she saw me sweeping the floor of a used – charity – bookstore in SoHo, listening to the Decemberists and full of samosas and tea? Would she be disappointed in my recent inclination to only engage with dudes in fairly serious relationships, or would she understand that that’s what takes the pressure off? Would she tell me to clean my fucking room? (Shut up, Past Tanya, I clean the kitchen.) She’d certainly be pleased about the return of Antwaan Randle El, and she’d love that I closed the door of my office to whisper-scream all afternoon.
Here’s a thing about brussel sprouts. If you’re roasting them, be prepared for a delicious dinner, but the smell from the oven will make your apartment smell like a fart for at least 12 hours.
Notes on New York: This weekend was not one for resting. After a miserable sleep on Friday night, I awoke at 3:30 Saturday morning to get in line for Saturday Night Live tickets. I was back to sleep by 8 a.m., though we all know a nap never really can make up for what you’ve missed. So after a long afternoon of cleaning and movie watching ( A Serious Man and Reality Bites, if you must know), and one apple & goat cheese omelet later, I went back to Rockefeller Center, where I followed Brian Williams into the studio and pretended very hard that we were best friends. I had ticket #69, so the 12-year-old in me was secretly a little thrilled when we didn’t get in, because I get to hold on to that special ticket forever. I went to La Lanterna & met dear friends for wine & cheesecake, then to a surprise party where I happened to get pleasantly pleasant, and things were brilliant for a few hours.
And then they turned fantastic. A real-life musical greeted us on the train ride home, with an entire subway car singing Feliz Navidad while hanging from the handrails and standing on the benches. I’m sure if I remembered it clearly, it would be the best experience of my life.
And then, of course, Sunday was a day to sit in the sculpture park and try to get through as much of my current Christopher Moore book as possible, since another one is sitting on the library shelf, sweating it out until I manage to reach it.
::and that’s my life in nyc as it stands today::
And now, I cannot stop thinking about District 9, the upcoming Alkaline Trio show, or cooking artichokes to dip in a bagna cauda.
Tannnn.
This post made me:
a) Think about what the high school Anne Marie would think about the 24-year-old Anne Marie. (You may have inspired my next infrequent blog post.)
b) Wish I was best friends with Brian Williams
c) Have a heart-wrenching moment, wishing that I lived in NYC and could have fabulous nights filled with wine and cheesecake and Feliz Navidad sing-a-longs. If I have another “WHY AM I IN OLEAN” freak out, you’re totally to blame.
Love you. Oh and GO BONNIES!