My Life is Lame

Making your life look better since 1989

A Tale of Two Cities

As many of you know, or considering how absentminded my generation is, don’t know, Hurricane Sandy did quite a number on NYC. Killing over 40 residents, destroying homes, and leaving hundreds of thousands in the dark and cold.  It’s been almost two weeks since Sandy knocked out the city that never sleeps, and still, many are powerless and in the dark. 

What amazes me is how disconnected the various parts of the city are.  At times it seemed as if, lets say for example, the Upper West Side has never heard of the Rockaways or Staten Island for that matter.  These are two of the hardest hit areas. 

The cable news channel I work for put together a piece comparing the lives of residents that live in an area of the city that was least affected, and residents that lived in a more affected area.

The result?

Sound bites from the least affected area were of residents complaining about not getting their Starbucks for 3 days. Sound bites from the more affected area complaining about being cold and not having electricity.

It was as if the least affected area had no idea as to what was happening in the rest of the city. Instead of banding together, they bought their ventis and their bagels.

A journalist’s job is to bring attention to what’s happening and to hold those with power accountable, giving the viewer the opportunity to take that information and use it wisely.

I think there were some who saw the news and digested it as if what they were seeing was some far off place where disaster and destruction was a norm. They ignored their fellow citizens.

As of now it’s as if we live in two cities.  Which one do you want to be apart of? I don’t think we should have to choose.  

I realize this isn’t a very humorous post.  But there’s always a time for being serious. Now. 

Still Lame, Still seeking Approval.

       

No, I’m not talking about Kristen Stewart, I’m talking about yours truly.  It’s been a year to the day since I moved to the big apple, wearing a cowboy hat and jorts, and not much has changed. 

I still live in Spanish Harlem, sure I may be fluent in spanish now and I just moved into a building where I can see the upper east side, but my life goal is still to get everyone and their mother to experience the greatness of LOST. 

I still put myself in every awkward situation a person could find themselves in.  One day at work, my boss asked me to show her how to follow someone on twitter.  So I logged onto our work account and searched for my personal account to use as an example. 

I find my account and click on it.  My last tweet:

“Can’t wait to not be at work anymore. #GetMeOutOfHere.”

As my boss and I stared at the computer screen, the above tweet had never rang truer. 

I’m not sure how I manage to get into these situations, but it seems to be entirely too easy. 

Anyways, here’s to another year of being lame. 

Sad Facts About Myself

1. I currently follow 15 different television shows.

2. My college essay to JMU was about my fear of public restrooms.  I described myself pooping at a rest stop. I got early acceptance.

3. My college essay to NYU was about cow tipping. It may have possibly been misconstrued as animal cruelty. I did not get in.

4. I received this message from a reader…

“I just read your post about taking the subway, and it’s quite obvious that you haven’t lived in the city for that long, at all. Nearly half the stuff you did while on the subway is rather ass-backwards. How long have you been here? All of two days? My suggestion to you, as a native New Yorker, is to grow a pair and wise up, otherwise you’ll get your ass handed to you in this city. Kthnxbai”

6. In the past week, I’ve killed 2 of 6 mice in my apartment.

7. I time my trips to the gym according to what’s on TV so I can watch something I like while working out.

8. I drink about a pitcher of sweet tea every other day.

9. I’ve never bought condoms…I’m waiting for a sale.

NYC Nicknames

                

Since moving to this great city, I’ve acquired quite a few nicknames, and I felt it appropriate to share some of these nicknames with you. 

-Sweet little southern boy

-MJ

-Matty J

-Tucker Carlson

-Tucker

-Idiot

-Vermont ( Because that’s where my boss thinks I’m from, I’ve let it go on too long to correct him.)

-Vermy

-Virginia

-West Virginia

-Goat F**ker

-White guy

-Attractive

-That guy with nice hair

Is there a Problem?

               

My roommate and I are a domestic dispute waiting to happen. 

I would never hit her. I think reality has done that enough.  We just have moments of heated discussion.

“Eat an M&M!”

“No thanks Natalie I don’t want one.”

“EAT ONE!”

“I’m good thanks.”

“THIS MEANS YOU DON’T LOVE ME!”

Yup.  That’s exactly what it means. Exactly.  

I think our problem is that we live together.  Okay. It’s not that bad.  She does the dishes every week or two.  And on occasion she lets me cook for her.  And she’s really good at cleaning off poop stains in the toilet.

But we scream a lot.  And she throws things. Heavy things.  Things that hurt.  Like whatever half eaten sandwich she’s currently gnawing her way through. 

Honestly thought, most of our fights are fake fights.  Like when she called me condescending.

“You’re Condescending.”

(While rolling my eyes) “No Natalie, I’m just logical.”

“See!” She yelled!

“I think you’re confusing being right with being wrong.”

Now what about that conversation says condescending to me will remain a mystery.

I just can’t wait for the day when one of our neighbors calls the cops and I open my door to see the NYPD staring back.

“We got a call about some loud screams and shouting coming from your apartment.  Is there a problem?”

I’ll then point to my beautiful roommate as she sits legs opened wide, eating a sandwich as mayo drips down her chin, while she scratches her left boob.

The cops will then pat me on the shoulder, and walk away.

The Best Parts of Living in Spanish Harlem

             

1. I get to be with my people, as I’m 1/250 Spanish, but only while wearing glasses. 

2. The fun games we play like Count the white people and hooker? Neighbor? Or both?

3. The look of surprise on peoples faces when they see I haven’t been shot…yet.

4. Being the richest guy in my neighborhood.

5. Living near the projects really helps me stay humble…and scared.

6. The only restaurant in my neighborhood with an A grade, is McDonalds.

7. Knowing that if I ever needed a gun, I could find one.

8. The new 24 hour Mexican diner, that’s located up the street from the Mexican restaurant, which is located across the street from a Mexican take out place.

9. Playing hopscotch over the dog poop on the sidewalk that no one ever seems to pick up.

10. Building forts at night to stay warm as our land lord turns the heat off between midnight and 5 a.m.