Down with Allergies!

This blog could also be called, "A Birthday Present For Colin Dempsey: My Blog's Biggest Fan"
I've been meaning to blog. I really have, but instead, I've slept.

I was sick for about three weeks. Turns out I'm severely allergic to something.
I'm really hoping that something isn't this:
That you see sitting there blending into my floor is Mimosa. She's an eight year old cat that kinda looks like Wilford Brimley and Garfield if they had offspring. I got her via a friend of a friend of a friend.
I wasn't looking for a cat, but when I saw her adorable face I was sold.
I really don't want to talk too much about her. Mostly, because I already feel ridiculously single, with a cat conversation on the tip of my tongue I feel like I'm online for a ticket to spinster central.
Also, it appears she may be one of the things that has made me deathly ill for the past three weeks.

Other possible allergen culprits are:

1. A new form of grass : This seems ironic for those of you who know of some of my recreational habits, but I'm actually really allergic to grass. I find this kinda weird that a new strain of grass got to me seeing as I live in the concrete jungle that is NYC, but perhaps I've been walking through fields during one of my many "vacations". (Since I'm poor this year, vacations are basically me getting black out drunk.)
2. Dust: It's already known that I'm allergic to dust, but it's odd that I'd be getting more dust than usual. Especially since I've actually started cleaning my apartment on a regular bases. (Growing up is weird- priorities shift. Instead of brunching the weekend mornings away I sweep/mop and listen to NPR)
3. Dairy: I've been told that this might be a problem in the past. I am in total denial of this being a possible truth. I really don't want a life without cheese.
   

So, I'm basically waiting until the blood tests come back to see what allergen is sucking my will to live.

Luckily, I can still drink- and we're doing an Octoberfest theme at Convergence tonight.

Vegas "Vacation", Part 3 - The Beatles Love Bar

There are some things that actually do cater to me here in Vegas.
One major one is the show Love.

I was quite the Beatles fan in my youth, at times I even styled myself like John Lennon (long hair and round glasses), and learned about bright blue eyeshadow from the scandalous Mrs. Pattie Boyd Harrison- Clapton.

Unfortunately, as much as I love the Beatles, I also really like eating and living in an apartment, so I can't really afford to see the spectacular show which is in the Mirage where I'm staying.

I was willing to go to the Beatles-themed bar Revolution in lieu of the show.
My image of the bar was a haven of Beatles music, pictures of the Beatles, perhaps even Beatles-themed drinks. (Perhaps a fun fruity drink called Octopus's Garden)

Unfortunately, the bar is really just a pink/purple lit lounge with over priced drinks and standard music playing. I did still enjoy hanging out there with my co-workers and my $13 Maker's Mark on ice.

And I must say, the music throughout the hotel, not just the bar, is really very good. There are many cameras around the hotel which have captured me dancing around. Especially in the elevator. Who knew? Elevator music can be good!

Astorian Pals

Within the past year two of my comedy pals have moved to Astoria: Joe Powers and Colin Dempsey.
On occasion these fella's and I enjoy a drink. This is a good thing/dangerous thing, because before they moved close we were known to drink more than our fair share. Now that we're in walking distance from each other, and off the same subway stop, well let's just say our livers may not enjoy us living around each other as much as we do.

About a month ago, Colin and his lady invited me and Joe over to a dinner party. Not wanting to do anything too crazy because I had plans the next day I said yes, thinking - it's just going down the block for some dinner, how crazy could it get?

Well, dinner wasn't too nuts. There were some other non-comics there that made conversation less focused on out-witting each other. A good time for all.

Until I found out about the next part of the dinner party...

"Ok, time for The Beer Garden!"

Wha? I had signed up for dinner, I could not possibly stay out late drinking at the beer garden. I politely declined and said I'd walk out with the group, but really must go home and get some rest.

"Oh come on now, just get one," Colin insisted in his thick Irish accent.

"Fine, just one," I replied.

When we got to the Beer Garden though, I realized I was in for a long night, as Colin handed me a pitcher of beer and said, "I said one, I didn't say what size that one would be."

Hours later and I'm drunk walking through the Burger King drive thru with Joe convincing the guy at the window we have an invisible mini van and need Whopper meals.

Colin's depiction of how my evening ended though is different, and false, but funny none-the-less.
Click here for picture of the three Astorian drunk comics and Colin's Story.

If You're Going to Party, Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair

Things you need to know about this picture:
This is a pic of Hubs
It's her birthday.
Those flowers are real.
She did that herself.
She wasn't in a bridal party, like the people sitting next to me hypothesized.
My stylish, talented pal Jen here celebrated her bday at the Brooklyn Beer Garden.

This party was a test of my love for the hubs.

See, Here are two fun facts about me:
1. I don't like traveling to Brooklyn.
2. I've got the best damn beer garden in walking distance from me.

The Brooklyn Beer Garden attempts to act like it's got history in this neighborhood that has been completely overhauled to be hipster-friendly. It was not a neighborhood of Czechs like Astoria, it was mostly Jewish and Latino.

The Brooklyn Beer Garden's "out door" section has an open roof, but the windows are nailed shut. There are also no fans. I guess this is what makes it "old timey", because it's similar to a sweat shop on a 90 degree day.

I'd complain, but no one has more need to complain than the sausage dude that was working on fryer all day.

I really can't complain either, because the company and delicious beers made the time spent there well worth it. I rolled in with fellow Astorian, Rachel, around 6pm, and ended up chatting it up with party goers until 12:30am, when a newly made pal walked me to the cab station.

Over the course of the day there were presents brought that were fun for the entire party. Most notably:
-a view finder with interesting animals, that I'm pretty sure aren't real.
-bubbles with various animal blowers

Conclusion: J-Hubs's birthday brings out the bubbly animal in all of us, and she's the flowery centerpiece of festivities.

Comedy, Family, Food = My Life Right Now

This blog could also be titled:
I'm Broke
Easter The Way Christ Intended - A Lazy Day of Reflection

Lots of great comedy going on right now. I've got a decent March schedule lined-up so far.
This year, I said I'd go to more comedy shows.
I have been really good at doing that.
Unfortunately, comedy somehow leads to social drinking. And social drinking leads to me taking cabs...
and that leads to me eating out of the vending machine at work and constantly complaining about how broke I am.
I don't know if my friends are sick of me saying it, but I sure am.

The fundwatch '08 is just beginning. I've still got the dreaded "t word" to deal with (t is for taxes and it's mighty frightening for me, cause I always owe money).

The brokeness doesn't just effect eating habits though. I'm also unable to spend Easter with the family in Florida this year. This won't be that big of deal, though. My family rarely gathers for Easter.

The first year I lived on my own in fact I started my lone Easter tradition - ordering in lamb, getting a good bottle of wine, and watching TV until I fall asleep.
Sure, it might sound pathetic and borderline alcoholic to you - but to me it's a lovely way to spend Easter Sunday.

My brother Mike's family orders in Chinese and watches movies. This may sound low key, but I believe my sister in law Tina may enjoy this more than Christmas.

The dedication to low key is something so rare for holidays.

Usually holidays mean: high stress family visits, the need for perfection, and extreme over eating

So, even though I'll miss out on this years Florida-Easter-Fest with my brother Matt, my Uncle Bill and my Mom at the house her and my step dad are renting for their "Snow Bird" month, at least I'll get a day of relaxation.
Even if I am broke, I intend on continuing my tradition.
And if I find myself worrying about the cash flow- well, there's always 3 buck chuck.


In other family news - Go check out my sister's book on Amazon.com. This book is going to be hilarious. I know this, because her columns are so freakin' funny.
And I'd say that even if she wasn't my sister.

Scott's Finest Moment

One night at the Four Faced Liar while I was still a smoker,
I went out for cigarettes between waters. While I was gone my pals Ben and J watched Jennie Smash's and my spots at the bar. We had two stools in front of the TV, a coveted corner that we came early to grab.

On cigarette break three or four two skanks walked into the bar. Now, I'm not really being mean here, you call a plum a plum just like you have to call a skank a skank. And when girls look this trashy and act this dumb, the appropriate term is skank. These skanks took our seats.

"Excuse me, I was saving those for our friends. You'll have to get up when they get back." Ben said to the skanks.

"Sure thing!" said the skanks.

But when we came back the skanks were chatting it up with their pals. I tapped one on the shoulder and asked her to keep her word she had given to Ben.

"No, we're not moving. Your loss."

I didn't want to start a fight just then. So, I did what any normal person would do in this situation and mocked the skanks.

"Oh Jen, we can't sit down. The skanks need the stools."

"Oh, it's ok it's because they have AIDS, actually I think they have double AIDS, " Jen replies.

Roommate Tom walks over and asks us what the problem is, we tell him about the double AIDS skanks.

"WHORES." Tom says loudly with his typical emotion, deadpan. We then realize that these girls are with two men and fear that now that Tom is involved there will be fighting. The guys stare at us, but do nothing. As if to say, "Yeah, we know they are skanky girls, but this is why we are with them." We took this as open season to mock the girls every chance we could till we bored of it.

And since our humor is similar to our attention span, like an 11 year old ADHD kid, we tired quickly of mocking the seat stealing skanks.

We watched the Met game.
Now, this is when the Mets really started tanking. I mean they were going down faster than a Thai hooker. It was horrible to watch, and in the 8th inning when things were getting close and we blew it again, I got myself a Guiness.

I get drunk quickly. I mean 1/4 of the way into the beer and I'm slurring and kinda non-responsive to my friends droning and moaning about the game.

This is when one of the skanks hops off the stool to hug a dude who came in.
I see my opportunity.
I wait until she's about to sit back down, and when she's like one step away from planting a butt cheek - I kick the stool and hop on it.
Now, yes, this was an obnoxious thing to do.
But the skanks response, was so far out of line that it made me look totally in the right.

They start screaming like banshies, "SHE WAS ABOUT TO SIT DOWN! WHAT THE F*&^K ARE YOU DOING YOU #&%&@$(@%*!! GIVE IT BACK! GET UP YOU @#$#$~! STAND UP, JUST STAND UP YOU ARE SUCH A #$@%$@! WHAT ARE YOU DOING??!!!"

I calmly turn to them and say, "I'm taking back the stool that you stole from me."

"YOU WENT FOR A CIGARETTE, YOU LOST IT, GET UP @#$*!!! JUST GET THE @#$^t@$ UP RIGHT NOW YOU #@%$@!!!" the skank says as she screams right in my face.

"Ladies, you're obviously menstrual and that's fine. I understand. But here's the thing, I'm old, much older than you. And you don't understand this yet, but when you get older you get tired of standing and need to take a sit. So, I'm gonna take my sit, drink my beer, hope my team doesn't tank, and when I'm ready - shouldn't take too long, I'll get up from my sit and you can put your young little tuckus down on it. OK?"

"NO THAT IS NOT OK. NO!!!! NOOOOO! GET UP! I'M NOT MENSTRUAL, YOU GET THE @#*$* UP! STAND UP !#@r$$@!"

Now, at this point they are screaming so loud that the entire bar is just watching and it's ridiculous because they're practically climbing on the bar to get in my face and I turn to stare at the cocktail waitress who is looking from the girls to me in disbelief. We're speechless, these girls are obviously drunk and somewhat unstable.

All I can say is, "Wow. Wow."

The cocktail waitress laughs and nods, but is unable to speak still because the skanks immediately retaliate, "YOU DON'T SAY WOW TO HER!"

"DON'T SAY WOW TO ME! DON'T SAY WOW!"

And as they screetch about the word wow, Scott moves in for the win.

He pulls up a bar stool and sets it down next to me and says, "Here Sue, you can sit here so you can watch the game in peace."

I thank him and move myself to the new stool, I had made my point.
But then, Scott goes back and gets another stool and puts next to the girls who are still all riled up and says, "Here and I got a stool for your attitude." He places the stool between the girls and steps back.

"Thank you, we need it." says the now blatantly obvious stupid skank.

Kate, Scott's girl friend, put it best when she said, "Ya know Scott can be pretty corny, but that was freakin' awesome!"

And we all agreed that it really was Scott's finest moment.

I'm So Tired Of America

"I literally sat down before dinner one day and five minutes later the whole thing was there. So I just consider myself more of the messenger of a general pathos, really: what's happened to the democracy and with this war. I'm just stating the obvious at this point. It's more kind of a healing gesture, really. It's more getting through the stages of mourning."

~Rufus Wainwright

I am not a huge fan of Mr. Wainwright.

I know one song a friend put on a mix tape for me
"Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk"
which I really only thought he put on the tape
because we both smoked cigarettes
and enjoyed occassional beverages such as chocolate milk,
but really it's cause it's a great song,
and thanks to youtube, the video is shown below:


I love this song*.

You can play it as you read this,
but I suggest taking it in when you can enjoy the performance,
that way you'll get hooked.

Well when I saw the name Rufus Wainwright under reviews
I completely forgot about that song and his connection with it.

I read this statement, "I'm so tired of America", on Salon.com
and responded, "me too!"

So I read on about Mr. Wainwright
and found that his statements regarding this
"controversial line"
were really quite honest about how certain Americans are feeling.

I used to really be into America,
into democracy,
but it's really just let me down.

This was my first Memorial Day having personally known a fallen soilder.
And the only thing I could think of doing was grilling and drinking a beer.
I had no patriotic feeling except for, "Damn, Sam Adams is great".

To personify it
I feel as if America is that friend
that has completely lost it's way
that is partying way too hard for it's own good
and I'm just tired of it ignoring all of it's problems,
there's no reasoning with America these days
the nation needs to go to rehab.

But since there's no national rehab program
and it would probably say no no no anyway
we can all just go to bars and drink and sing this song:


*And for those of you who know of my struggles
with quitting cigarettes
just a check in here
I haven't smoked a full cigarette
from time to time I take drags
and think, "This is disgusting".
No plans on picking up a packs.
Also - I smell fantastic as a non-smoker.

Drip, drip, drop.. dry.

I love to drink.

In college I got caught with vodka and rum
and I had to go to a meeting on alcohol awareness
(read: dormitory AA)

They had these upbeat counselors who asked all us kids,
"Who here drinks just because they like the taste of alcohol,
not to get drunk?"

Me and the kid who was 25, that got caught buying beer for minors, raised our hands.

I love yummy, fun, tastey alcohol.

But,
my stomach pretty much hates everything I love.

So, my friends,
Jack, Sam, Bud, Yuengling,
my Chardonnay amore
you hurt me too much for me to love you like I do.
I am going to have to take another month off from you.

Adieu
~

Tune in Next Week on
The Sue Funke
to read about my break up with Cingular...if I'm strong enough.