I'm Just Takin' a Train Out, On the Mineola Line...

The LIRR and I have a love hate relationship.

It's over priced, gets paralyzed in the rain, and can smell like piss and sound like hell.

But on weekends it can take me back to the place that I know all to well:
The Island.

I drove that Island end to end,
top to bottom,
trying to get lost as a teenager.
Now when I go back
I am driven around by the people who rode with me.

I went out this weekend for my friend Brooke's engagement party
- and I came out a day early for the beach.
My co-worker/friend* Lauren was kind enough to let me and a couple of other co-workers
crash her Long Beach residence, eat her food, and visit the beach which was a block away.

Sure, the LIRR to Long Beach was a crowded, too-close-for-comfort
ride along side my Long Island brethren-
with teenage girls that were so misguided
and under-parented
that I wanted to adopt them and start my own Facts-of-Life type household to teach these girls manners and de-slutify them.

(NOTE: when you wear shorts, button the top button, let your belly button ring be a surprise and hide that tramp stamp. Your floss bikini top already screams loud enough for attention.)

But on the train back...
after the beach
the party at the beach house
the time spent with my "brother" Will
and his awesome girl friend Sam
and a beautiful engagement party
I sat on the LIRR and watched my hometown pass by me.

Out the dirty windows I saw the trees, the baseball fields, the pools, sumps, 7 elevens,
the fire house my Grandfather worked at,
and felt really lucky that this was a place I could go back to and visit.

I leaned my head against the seat and watched it all go by
and thought
I love the LIRR
because no matter how crappy it might be sometimes
it still brings me back to the people and places I love.

*I am fortunate to work in an office with a group of people I can truly call friends.

There's a certain place in hell...

I think a lot about hell.

There was a year long period where I was told I was going to hell,
repetitively.

It happens when you're not the religious type,
and you are related to/living with born again Christians.

I found some comfort in the retort, "At least I'll be amongst friends".

Like another wise Long Islander once sang,
"I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with saints,
the sinners are much more fun..."

But an article my sister sent me made me think different,
and laugh a lot on the subway.

Maybe I won't get to be with my friends in hell.
Maybe there are different sections
and we're split up based on severity.

I'm hoping my section will be with the people
who used the lord's name in vain a million and six times,
or at least get that joke.

I know hell isn't supposed to be fun and games.
It's torture and brimstone.

But some people are into that, right?
So, part of me thinks hell is a place where it's all the things you hate.
Like mine would be radio DJ's doing banter all day long while I watched local news reports.

I get a pains just thinking about it.

But what has me thinking about hell these days?

OJ Simpson and his interview
about if he had killed his wife and her lover, how he did it.

I really hope we don't share the same space in hell.
Because, by my accounts he should be getting the worse torture hell has to offer.

And whoever buys his book has another section of hell
where they have to listen to Bill O'Reilly read his sex book*.

Oh, and his publisher.
This marketing whiz needs to be brought down.

Seriously, someone stop them, please.

They're ruining hell for the rest of us.


*They have to listen to it, not read it. See, they played an excerpt of O'Reilly himself reading it aloud for the book-on-tape version once on Al Franken's radio show. I had to turn it off immediately, pull over to the side of the road, and dry heave. I WISH I was kidding.

Another Saturday Night

and I got two buddies at the Liar, so I hop the train for a drink.
A drink, maybe two, or three...
That was at 6pm.
Due to intoxication and the horrible MTA, I ended up not getting home until 2:30 in the morning.
Here is a recap of the night, as I remember it:
7 PM - I walk up to the bar to see Adam smoking a cigar and Tom smoking a cigarette, both look at me like I'm insane. Aparently putting on a long skirt, no matter how dirty it is, is "putting in a lot of effort" on my appearance, I try to explain I'm the same dirty hippie I always am.
Adam tells me he has a bit for me, but I need to catch up on my drinking before I hear it.
7:15 - I start out with a Guiness, I'm not staying out too late or drinking too much tonight, might as well savor the flavor.
8 - I'm drinking Yeingling and discussing new inventions in bandaids.
9 - I'm drinking Bud and finally ready for Adam's comedy bit (I'll tell you it when you're older)
10 - I switch to Bud Lite, I'll watch my weight and my purse. I'm talking to a girl my friend is hitting on, turns out she's more into me. I say no thanks, I get blamed for chasing girls away.
11-Tom declares it's a crazy night, we're all going for the long haul, maybe bar hopping?
11:30 - Adam drops out.
12- Renee is coming out, we're staying at the Liar tonight.
1 am - I'm on an E train to Queens, but I fall asleep. I'm woken up by a nice elderly Indian man who asks me if I really want to be at Union Turnpike, I say no but miss the door, as does he, it's his stop. We go to the next stop and get out together for a transfer. His name is Richie. He's in love with me and wants to take me dancing sometime. I give him a fake number and send him on his way.
1:30 - At roosevelt ave a kid gets on, he's got stars in his eyes, literally, star contacts. They match his shirt. He asks me if the train is express, I say I hope not, he hopes it is.
Kid with stars in his eyes wins, and I end up at Queens Plaza.
2 - No trains coming at Queens Plaza, I join an "I hate the MTA discussion" with two other female Queens residents. A subway pulls up, it's an F train. The F isn't supposed to be at Queens Plaza! I tell the conductor this, then ask him where my train is, he said they stopped running trains local, they made an announcement about it two hours ago.
Super!
2:30 - my fellow females from the hood turned out to be trying to get to the same stop I am going to. Safety-in-numbers-Sue asks if they want to split a cab, we go to the street level and split a cab.

Morals of the story -

• This whole "I'm going to save money and stop taking cabs" idea is going to be revoked.
• People in New York are nice, helpful, caring people - not all of them, but I've met more nice than nasty. I think all the nasty ones live on Long Island*

Well, now I'm off to a Sopranos party, expect reactionary blog on that later...


*I am from Long Island so I can mock it as much as I'd like.