Thursday, August 4, 2016

I Heart NY

To an outsider, we appeared as we do every summer: our whole family’s annual summer vacation to visit our brother Franklin.

This year, however, we didn’t fly to Los Angeles. We flew to New York because Franklin and his girlfriend Allison are living there while he edits several episodes of the second season of an amazing TV show called Mr. Robot. (WATCH IT!)

And in that way, everything was different.

But that wasn’t the only thing.

My twin sister Joy has a husband now.

My mom is officially retired.

And I have a boyfriend!

!!!!!!!!

I’ve been meaning to write about my boyfriend, Daniel, for months now, and what better introduction than how he was thrown head-first into our loud, boisterous family’s annual vacation last month??

“Did he read your other blog posts about our family vacations?” my mother asked nervously when I asked if he could join us.

“Does he know it will be all of us? And that five of us will be sharing an AirBnB, including your Aunt?”

Joy and I laughed.

It turns out Daniel had read my other blog posts and, because he lives in New Orleans, had already met my whole family and didn’t blink twice at booking a flight.

In fact, he was the only one who appreciated our mom’s constant stream of emails leading up to the trip entitled “tentative itinerary.”

Since our family has always had an affinity for loud productions, it was fitting that our first night in town, we all saw a Broadway play.

Joy played her part exceptionally well when she took the wrong subway, got lost, and arrived at the play with one minute to spare, hungry and yelling at everyone.

Hahaha

And then our mom gave us the expected side-eye when we ordered double vodkas at the theater bar. 

The play Fiddler on the Roof (thanks mom and dad!!!) was the most memorable play I’ve ever seen. 

I didn’t get lost following the play ONCE and enthusiastically gave it a standing ovation.

(I then Googled the lead actor Danny Burstein when I got home because I have never seen anyone command a stage like he did.)

Hmm maybe it was the double vodkas…

After the play, we walked up the street to Times Square, a landmark which never changes, unless you count the changing number of chain restaurants.  

On the “tentative itinerary,” our mom had listed: “Take family Christmas photo at Times Square.” 

Drunk on theater, I felt like leaping there, like the Russian dancers from the play.

We quickly realized that we didn’t need a flash for our photo, as Times Square was literally lit up like a concert.

Beautiful models, iconic logos and other American consumerism shone down on us as we took group pictures but then Franklin got annoyed with the “same photo being taken over and over,” my mom sang show tunes, Joy re-announced that she was starving, and my dad and Allison snuck off to buy ice cream cones from a truck.

And in that way, everything was the same.



The next day, we went to the Natural History Museum, which I hated because it somehow made dinosaurs boring.

Joy laughed at me.

“Where is the skin? Where are the scales???” I asked staring at skeleton after skeleton.

I didn’t know which ones were actual bones or reproductions of bones.
(Most of the real bones were behind glass cases.)

“So WHAT is hanging from the ceiling? Plastic???”

Joy’s husband, who has his masters in biology, was not impressed at my ignorance.

(Also a “water giraffe” is not the proper name for an ancient platypus, nailed to the ceiling.)


A photo posted by Genevieve (@jennyjenny504) on

At the museum, we sat in a planetarium show narrated by Neil De Grasse Tyson about the universe which was also the most boring thing I’ve ever heard, and I promptly fell asleep in the dark theater with stars over my head.

Thankfully, Daniel still held my hand, despite my snoring in the theater.

:)

Joy and I laughed again when our mom kept quizzing us on what “black matter” is after the show and Joy fielded every question to me knowing full well I was in R.E.M. cycle.

Fresh from a nap!! 

Daniel and I then paired off, and I found out something NEW I like about him—his navigational abilities.

There’s a simple comfort in following someone around aimlessly, not having to navigate for yourself, knowing you’ll get where you’re going safely.

:)

(It’s also hard to concentrate on what’s ahead of you when you’re too busy looking up at the tall buildings and pausing to clap for subway performers pole dancing in the train cars.)




We met my NYC friend and walked to Daniel’s friend’s apartment, the chic-est apartment I’ve ever been to in the inappropriately-named DUMBO neighborhood 

(inappropriate because no one who lives there is dumb).

You could see the Statue of Liberty from the living room.

We all walked along the DUMBO waterfront, where thousands of people were out playing beach volleyball, basketball, cooking out, dancing, biking, running, walking dogs.

I especially appreciated the Hasidic Jewish family playing beach volleyball, a father mother and son, all dressed head to toe in traditional garb, not caring about rules or points in the game, just rolling up their pants and playing around.

That is not something you see in South Carolina. 

Or in Fiddler on the Roof.

We ended the night at Franklin and Allison’s Brooklyn apartment, where we had drinks overlooking the New York City skyline from their balcony (swoooon!) and when it got late, I followed my navigator boyfriend back to our Air BnB, without taking my eyes off of him.

:)


The next day, July 4, I decided that I wanted to get a milkshake that I discovered on social media.

It was at a restaurant called Black Tap and there was a big line and the only person who humored me was my mom.

Some people (Daniel) don’t LIKE MILKSHAKES, other people like Joy got on the subway late and made us wait in line longer.

But my cookies and cream milkshake was perfect and I have never had a frozen treat so delicious and, yes, I’m including Dairy Queen blizzards.




We then all walked to Chinatown, and saw fascinating, unidentifiable fruits and vegetables and what appeared to be green onions that were so long and heavy that a vendor was slapping them onto a table from out of a box, like tentacles.

We saw fireworks from Franklin and Allison’s apartment (number “4” on the itinerary) and even though it was raining, we all squeezed in to their kitchen and talked about everything and nothing at all.

The rain stopped right as the fireworks started, almost as if it was just for us.


(Our dad watched the fireworks on the TV inside hahahahahahha)

Seriously...that view! Swooooon

The rain started again after the show and we walked home soaking wet, me feeling very much like a character in a TV show or movie set in New York, brownstone after brownstone passing as I hooked arms with Daniel and my mom.

On our last day in New York, we explored Brooklyn by foot, my boyfriend's idea, and the one who led me and my aunt to the cutest little restaurant I have been to in recent memory.

There was something quite magical about sitting in the café, eating breakfast at noon on a Tuesday, the buzzing of the barista making coffee drink after coffee drink, watching people through the window heading towards a little park.

…on their way to something, on their way back from something, having the best day, having the worst day— talking to themselves (in several languages.)

I felt that sense of anonymity too, even though it was a significant holiday for me.

If anyone looked over, no one would have known that it was our last meal of a special vacation for our family, one where everything was the same, yet different, and wonderful, all at once.

And I didn’t have to worry about finding my way home.

-Jenny











Tuesday, August 2, 2016

TOOLBAG TUESDAY

My friend Sarah just wanted to have some fun, and this guy TJ fit the bill.

Turns out, he was a lemon.

A lemon, like when you buy a car or a phone or something else fancy that LOOKS good on the outside, but is really defective on the inside.

TJ was cute, dark and mysterious (mysterious in that he wouldn’t tell her what the initials TJ stood for…ha) and he lived in a very swanky high rise, exactly two floors up from a party Sarah attended.

TJ and Sarah met and talked all night at the party and, at the stroke of 2 a.m., instead of taking the elevator down to the first floor and catch an Uber, she joined TJ in his apartment instead.

It was an “OK” one-night stand (haha), and Sarah left the next morning, despite TJs pleas to stay. She put her number in his phone just to placate him and told him goodbye.

And that’s all the time she planned to put into this “connection.”

Sarah had actually forgotten all about TJ until exactly seven days later, at the exact same time (roughly 2 a.m.), when he texted her.

“Been thinking bout you. When you gonna back and see me?”

It was a lame text; he had obviously only been thinking about her late on a Saturday night, not during the day, or during the week.

Sarah was put off by his late-night booty call and also that it was only two sentences and not thoughtful or interesting. 

She ignored him.

Yet TJ repeated the same message week after week, always texting on a Friday or Saturday well past midnight with various versions of, “When you coming to have fun with me again?” “You really don’t want to come over?”

GET A CLUE.

He was now just getting really annoying.

So she texted back.

“I told him that while I don’t regret hooking up with him, I didn’t want to be a stranger’s booty call,” Sarah recalls.

She thought that would take care of the problem.

But then TJ did the opposite of a booty call: He asked her out for a meal.

Considering guys rarely do this anymore, it was a shock.

“I genuinely like you and want to get to know you better!” he texted.

LOL

After two more weeks, Sarah caved and agreed to meet him for brunch one Sunday at a hot new place he suggested.

Sarah wasn’t entirely sold as she got up early to get dressed to meet her one-night stand whose name may or may not really be TJ.

She got to the restaurant four minutes late and scanned the dining room. No TJ.

She texted him, “Hey, I’m here. Are you?”

He responded, “No, just getting up.”

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

UGH.

LEMON.

Already an enormous waste of time.

“I’ll be there in a second,” he said.

Sarah believed him and went to the bar and got a bloody Mary, staring at her phone when, 20 MINUTES LATER, he texted, “In an Uber now. On my way.”

This now put him 45 minutes late to the brunch that he insisted she join him for, and had set the time for.

When TJ arrived, he still looked cute but she was annoyed at his LEMON lateness and they sat awkwardly at a table.

Then the server came up to take their order. After Sarah ordered, all eyes were on TJ.

“Oh, nothing,” he said.

?!!??!!!!!!!?!??!

“WHAT? You’re not hungry?” she asked.

“No…I’m just not much of a breakfast person.”

The server shot her a look of pity.

“Then why did you agree to brunch? Why did you suggest this place?” Sarah asked.

He didn’t respond.

And that’s how Sarah found herself EATING BY HERSELF, suddenly massively regretting her life choices.

THIS IS WHY YOU NEVER TALK TO A ONE-NIGHT STAND AGAIN.

And then came the icing on the cinnamon roll: The bill came, and SARAH PAID FOR IT.

“Well, I didn’t technically eat anything….” TJ said.

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

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

It was the most mortifying scene ever.

All Sarah could think about was how fast the server could run her debit card and she could leave, when she felt TJs hand ON HER KNEE.

She jerked it, smashing it on the underside of the table. On purpose.

OWWWWWW!” TJ wailed. My hand! Why did you do that?!?”

“Because you unexpectedly put your hand on my knee, and I don’t know why,” she said, cooly.

“Well, I was about to ask you if you wanted to come back to my place,” TJ said.

LOL

LOL

“...You know…to have some fun. Like we did the other night.”

The other night?!?! 

Try the other month.

After a long pause Sarah said, “Oh, no, I’m good. I’m really full after all that awesome food.”

Then TJ said, seriously, after she had AGAIN turned him down: 

“After all this, you won’t even come back to my place for a little fun? C’mon, you know you want to.”

All this??

All what???

All $30 on her debit card?!??!

Sarah looked at him dumbfounded. Did this guy seriously think that after the most awkward “date” in the history of brunch THAT HE DIDN’T PAY FOR, which included a complete disregard for arriving on time, being a weirdo and not ordering anything, and failing other basic social clues, that sex was a natural follow-up?!

UGH.

SUCK ON A LEMON TJ


-Jenny

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

TOOLBAG TUESDAY

ED NOTE: I’m up to my eyeballs in work, so I don’t have time to write a proper Toolbag Tuesday today, but I can’t stop laughing at this dumbass text message exchange my friend sent me from a guy she’s dating:

“I told him that I needed extra TLC this week because I’m PMSing.”

“He responded with ‘great. Looking forward to being nice to you on your period. Can’t wait.’”

LOL

(yes he's being sarcastic)

From what I’ve gathered, this is the typical response from someone who has no sisters and/or attended an all-boys Catholic High School and wasn't taught basic survival skills like bearing "food-gifts" and giving extra attention to their menstruating girlfriends.

...And may God have mercy on his soul.


-Jenny

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

TOOLBAG TUESDAY

I love when a guy you’re dating can teach you things, like the rules of basketball or how to do an Irish Car Bomb.

Sometimes, though, these lessons go much deeper. 

My friend Willa and and this guy Greg dated for almost a year and slowly, Willa found herself staying at his house all the time.

It wasn't an official “move in” together, it was more of a “she's there all the time” situation, and he gave her a few drawers so she had clothes and other girly possessions there permanently.

So, it became them living together organically without a "lets move in" conversation.

Willa and Greg did, however, start talking about her renting out her house out, because they both acknowledged that she spent no time there.

But about three weeks after having the conversation of how much to rent her house for and HIM telling her to move her CAT into his place, he decided that all the stuff that he suggested was "too much."

LOL

But, no, he didn’t want to stop dating altogether...

He only wanted to date her on the WEEKENDS.

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

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

HAHAHAHAHAHA

WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN???

Selfish prick.

So, within a month, their relationship goes from a full-on cohabitation with HER CAT scenario to Saturdays only.

So Willa said she was leaving him.

Yet, every time she went by his house DURING THE WEEK, DESPITE HIM to get her things back, he’d say sorry, and keep her there for dinner and she’d spend the night.

She couldn’t leave him.

It was only when the situation finally began wearing her down that she told him that it had to go one way or another. 

"Either have me seven days a week or zero days a week."

Greg would flip-flop his answer and then bring her back to bed and she still couldn't leave him.

But she kept pressing him about the "weekend only" thing.

He finally told her, exasperated, that her problem is that she, “always knew when to come around, but never knew when to leave.”

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

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

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

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

And that's how Greg taught her how to leave. For good.

A++

-Jenny


Tuesday, July 12, 2016

TOOLBAG TUESDAY

Job descriptions always talk about the unimportant things about working there, like "dental insurance," "flexible hours" and “leadership opportunities.”

They don’t mention the really important things, like how the job comes with resident office CREEPS, guys who you’ll have to put up with every day.

It wouldn’t kill employer XYZ to casually mention in the job description: “In addition to 15 days of paid vacation a year, you’ll be sitting at a very spacious corner desk with Phil, who likes to talk about how women should wear the highest heels possible, because he really likes calves.”

I used to work at a very large office years and years ago, and had the unfortunate luck to work with a very creepy IT guy who mistook my being impressed with his IT skills (uhhh…he figured out my forgotten password) as a green light to hack me.

HACK me.

...Because THAT’S what girls like.

One day he casually strolled by my desk and said, “You should really turn off your Bluetooth.”

I didn’t’ even know what Bluetooth was at the time.

“Why?”

“Because you leave yourself WIIIIIIDE open,” he said.

UM.

(Where's the escape button??)

“For example,” he continued. “I don’t want to know that you just checked UPS tracking to see when your new perfume shipment was coming.”

!!!!!!!!!!

I gulped wide-eyed. I had just done that. From my phone, from the privacy of my desk.

SINCE WHEN WAS THIS PART OF HIS JOB DESCRIPTION?

…AND WHY WASN’T THIS MENTIONED IN MY JOB DESCRIPTION?

"…Very competitive salary, plus an in-house technician that thoughtfully spies on you through your iPhone!”

“I don’t…want…you to know that either,” I said, feeling violated. But rather than pick up on my sarcasm, he cackled and walked away, thinking he did me some sort of favor.

Every day, there would be another creepy encounter that involved technology.

He “joked” that he was going to put cameras up in the hallway to the bathroom that only me and another female co-worker used. 

Seriously, we took out a broom and used the handle to push up the square ceiling tiles to make sure there wasn’t one hidden up there.

DEFINITELY NOT PART OF HIS JOB DESCRIPTION.

Then came the final straw.

He was troubleshooting a problem with me over the phone when he casually commented that I should “be careful” or else he’d HACK INTO MY COMPUTER'S CAMERA and watch me as I typed at the computer all day.

“Why…would you do that?” I asked. “I feel like I would need to 'OK’ that on my end.”

“Because I can!” he said, and then hung up.

I immediately put a Post-It note over the little dot on the camera and tried to shake off his creepy, slimy comment.

The next day, I found him sitting at my desk, at my computer, on the phone.

“Err….updating Adobe,” he said when I walked in, and then immediately got up.

It was fishy. I was using a bootleg copy of Adobe and it wasn't update-able. Even I knew that.

Then I saw it: The post-it note had disappeared. Of course.

That was it.

I went to our boss and told him how creeped out I was and asked to file a formal complaint.

“Wait…WHAT is he doing in the bathrooms???” the boss said.

I handed him the broom.

The next day, I was called back to the boss’ office.

He had spoken with the in-house creep/hacker who admitted he did all of those things and that it was a “joke.”

“Well, I told him that we don’t 'joke' like that here,” the boss told me, as if the matter was finished. 

“He’s just someone we all deal with, best to not let him think that you think these things are funny.”

!!!!!!!!!

My mouth dropped.

TWO TOOLBAGS!

It was the absolute worst job I ever had, and it had nothing to do with the actual work. 

No wonder they couldn't find quality employees! They had a creep on the payroll.

I quit a short time later, and haven’t heard from either person since (maybe because I turned off my Bluetooth.)

UGH. 

The silver lining, though, is that now employers think I’m really comprehensive when they ask me if I have any questions during a job interview.

Tell me about your IT department...

Also...where are your brooms located?

-Jenny

You might like...

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...