Men Shouldn't Wax Their Eyebrows

On a whim last weekend, my friend Daisy and I went down to Puerto Rico for the weekend to visit our friends and to shake the city off of us.

I'm a terrible flyer - I have panic attacks over the mildest turbulence. Since I'll be living abroad this fall, I really need to get used to flying and so I'm gonna take every chance I get to fly. The flight down was great.... smoothest flight of my life. The flight back was a bit rough at times but I got a little drunk and ended up passing out.

Daisy managed to convince me to go with her only 3 days before we left. She and our friend Anibal used "Las Fiestas de la Calle San Sebastian" and free accomodations to lure me. Apparently San Sebastian is a big time party weekend out in Old San Juan. It's the Puerto Rican version of Mardi Gras. Music in the streets, masses of people dancing like maniacs every which way you turned. Awesomeness....

So Daisy and I are talking on the way down: "This is gonna be perfect! There's gonna be so many guys to choose from and so little time!"
I mean, I know I don't speak spanish all that well but everyone speaks the language of love... ;)
So we're all hyped. We get dressed and I must admit we looked damn good (despite our wintery pale skin). We go out amongst the masses and Daisy was regretting those heels and I was regretting my slides... too many people. And I think someone grabbed my boob and tried to make it look accidental... ugh. So freakin annoying when that happens. If there hadn't been a huge group of people between me and that dude by the time I turned around, I woulda wrecked that fucker.

So our night wasn't going so well. Finally, we get in touch with Anibal (who took a later flight) and we decide to meet up with him at this place called The Nuyorican Cafe. It was down this little winding side street not 5 blocks from where we were staying. There were people obviously drunk sitting all around outside the place and the lighting gave this amazing effect that made me feel like I was walking onto a movie set. So cool...

So we go in and they had this awesome salsa band and people we dancing like crazy. But it had this surreal feeling... again very movie-like to me. So Daisy and I proceed to really start drinking and before we know it we're dancing with random men moving in ways I never knew I could. Daisy can dance. She says she's not so good... but she's good.
I, on the other hand, have no sense of rhythm. I can move to a beat but I can very easily fall off track if there's anything complicated about it. Hence... salsa and I don't mix. And, as I learned this weekend, salsa+alcohol and I don't mix. God, I must have stepped on this one dude's toes like 15 times in one song. I just gave up after a while.

Daisy ended up hooking up with the guy she met. I, on the other hand, did not. But if I was attracted to bald, 45 year old's with better maintained eyebrows than my own and horse teeth, he would've been a dream come true. Oh well. And seriously though... I got mad love for Puerto Ricans BUT I have to admit, the ones in San Juan don't compare AT ALL to the guys in my own neighborhood. I mean for starters, I think every mildly attractive man down there does their eyebrows. Like gets them waxed... what gives??? I mean, just shave the unibrow and either pluck or trim the rest. UGH... perfect eyebrows on any man is easily my biggest turn off. I just don't get it. Whatever.

The trip was pretty fun overall. Well worth it. Definitely going back. And next time I'm coming back with a tan!


Jasur, Daisy, me and Peter at one of the bars in Old San Juan
[And these guys don't wax their eyebrows... see how handsome!]

I love Pigeons

I was just looking over my MySpace page and I realized that last night in my drunk stooper I managed to post a number of bulletins. It feels so weird to have written things and not really remember what I wrote.

Can I tell you how one of my favorite bars in all of New York City is this place called Three Jolly Pigeons. It's known in the neighborhood as an old man's hangout but it really suits me well. I've been going there since I was... 18 or 19. I knew the bartenders before they quit in pursuit of their careers (big ups to Kevin Cash!!! check him out in Ash Wednesday - the Ed Burns film and others). I even had a fling with one of them. I met my ex-fiancee there. Had my first experience getting completely shitfaced at a bar there. And, most importantly, my cousin ordered her first beer there... ah! The memories!

One of my first times in 3JP I was with this woman, Maureen, who used to work at my undergrad college. She tells me that she's going out to this bar to see her boyfriend because he's playing darts out there this evening. So I tell her I know exactly where that place is (since my best friend lives around the corner) and I tell her I'll meet up with her. So, me and my best friends Sheila and Brianne go out there. We see her and chill with her momentarily but start talking to these dudes at the bar. Well, I proceed to have, oh I don't know... maybe... 4 shots of tequila and 5 beers.

Did I mention that I'm little? You can't possibly imagine the damage. Bad, bad, bad.

Needless to say, tequila and I never got along well after that experience. At least not until recently.

So last night, my cousin Kiera, her boyfriend Nick and I go out to 3JP. "Three Jelly Pigeons?" Nick asks and we correct him. I can't tell you how many people are so put off by the name of the place but it's such a chill atmosphere. Don't get me wrong, it's not like a lounge. It's not hip or trendy at all. It's this old school joint with a good juke box, well maintained bathrooms and a pool table in back (which is an absolute necessity for me).

AND... oh my god - I almost forgot the best part!!! What's up with people not knowing what "buy-backs" are?? Well like I said, I was pretty used to hanging out in this bar during my formative years. So whenever I used go to another bar and not get buy-backs, I'd get so pissed off. For those who don't know what buy-backs are, they are a courtesy from an appreciative bartender where every 3rd beer you purchase is free. Granted - a good tip is expected but still it's a pretty sweet deal - at least I think so. And its not like buy-backs are reserved for the regulars. I mean, everyone, like every person who goes to Pigeons will get their 3rd drink for free. Awesomeness...

Maybe it's only something done at 3JP... or in that area of Brooklyn - but I think it should be universal.

They used to have live music there all the time. Open-mic night was always pretty interesting. They got some characters. On this one night, Brianne and I decided to head over for a few drinks. So we're there having a great conversation when the music starts. It was this dude and this chick. They were sitting. The guy was chopping at his guitar and the girl was banging on an overturned plastic bucket and they were simultaneously singing/speaking "Weird. Weird. Weird. Weird...." That was the whole song. Freaking weirdos. But whatever floats your boat.

So I got pretty shitfaced last nite. It was fun. Played some pool. Badly. Tried a new beer. Ayinger. Some german wheat beer in a kick ass glass. What're they called? It was this tall beer glass - like a pint but with a curvy indentation in the middle. Like a pint glass with a waist. I dunno. Whatever. It was cool. The special glass made me feel fancy. I love Pigeons.


Brianne, Sheila and I drunk as skunks at Pigeons back in the day.

"Ms. you can talk mad black."

So I'm at fieldwork today. It's my first day working entirely alone at both locations.

To update those of you who don't know:
I'm studying to be a school psychologist. I'll have my degree at the end of this semester but I've got to do an internship before I complete the program. So this semester I'm doing a mini-internship at a local mental health center where I go into a public school and provide whats essentially therapy to junior high school students.

So, like I was saying, I'm at fieldwork today. I'm holding this group... awesome group of kids.. all girls. You know how the pre-teen years were. All hormonal and awkward. Bad make-up, bad skin, weird obsessions with pop icons... whatever. It's so cool. I feel so privileged to get to see these kids going through it and knowing that there is a beacon of hope - a light at the end of the tunnel that makes up the hell also known as adolescence.

Okay, back to my point... promise I won't get sidetracked again.. er... maybe. So we're there and I had this whole lesson prep-ed about learning effective methods to cope with the troubles life often throws at you. Got my big manual on my lap. Start lecturing and I notice them getting all bored not 5 minutes into it. So I close the book and chuck it behind me.

I say, "Okay. So what's up. I know the lessons can be bad but they ain't that bad. And I'm pretty fun (they smile) so there's gotta be something else on your minds that's better than this."

Girl # 1: "Hehehe." (pokes girl #2)
Girl # 2: "I ain't telling her. You tell her."
Me: (Paranoia begins to set in. My mind is racing: Do I have a booger and they're trying to tell me. I wipe my nose and casually glance down at my hand... nothing. Ahhh!!!)
Girl #3: "What are yous laughing about? Whats so funny?"
Girl #4: "Huh? I don't get it. What's going on?"
Me: (In my head: Oh thank god I'm not the only one that's lost) "Okay. Wait a second. What's going on?"
Girl #5: "Okay. Okay. I'll tell her."
Girl #1: "No! No! Let me. Let me tell her. I'll tell it good."
Girl #2: "HAHAHAHA!"
Girl #5: "No uh. It's my story to tell."
Girl #1: "So there was this girl last week. And she thought this boy liked-ed her. And..."
Girl #5: "No uh. That's not how it goes."

::Bickering ensues::

The rest of us stare in wide-eyed wonder of what's occurring before us... confused as all hell.

So they proceed to tell me about a fight that occurred between Girl #5 and this other chick in her class. Now, the last time one of the kids in the group got in a fight my supervisor and I tried to break it down logically. Tried to talk to them about the consequences of fighting and how it never solves anything and blah, blah, blah. Now being a city chick myself, I know just as well as the next person that sometimes fighting is necessary... especially as a pre-teen. Now, luckily, no one was hurt and their teachers and parents had already been notified and both girls got a good talking-to by the school administration.
So I proceed to break it down for them.

Sidenote: My voice is somewhat involuntarily adaptable. Those who've been around me long enough can tell you that dependent upon my situation, I can sound like I've got a bad ass brooklyn accent (like a goomba tough girl), or a ghetto brooklyn accent, or no brooklyn accent whatsoever. Whenever I'm in a "normal" situation - whatever normal is - I tend to sound like I have no accent and have been told on many occassions that I don't sound like I'm from New York at all. But ya piss me off... and that's when you'll see my homegrown accent emerge.

SO, I start talking to them about how I'm disappointed n all but that I can understand why it happened. I turn to the girl, I ask her if it was worth it. She's like, "No." So I ask why not and she tells me it wasn't worth it because it was just a misunderstanding that the other chick didn't want to let go of and didn't want to talk it out (like we practiced in previous groups).

So I tell the group, "Well, not for nothing, but if I'm gonna get into a fight, you can bet your ass it better be worth it. Because if I can walk away from that and think to myself... 'boy, that was so not worth it'... I wouldn't be getting in the fight to begin with! I mean, for real. If I'm convinced that fighting this chick is a good idea, then she must have done something to really piss me off. Like, I mean, this chick was obviously just bored and decided to start talking shit because she got nothing better to do....."

As my rant continues... [And yes, I totally curse in front of my kids. Cursing a huge part of my vocabulary... I love it.] I start to notice they're looking at me funny. So I stop and I ask, "What's up? I got something on my face? What?"

One of them turns to me and goes, "Nah Miss. You got all ghetto all of a sudden. We're used to you talking mad white."

LOL... she totally called me out. Now I have to admit. I tend to not have control over my accent changing. But I totally have control over the words I use. I was completely using all the ghetto-slang I've learned over the years growing up in Brooklyn. Chillin with F.E.B. on 6-1, heading out to Bergen & Under to hit up the hotspot with Caesar and June, visiting heads out in Bushwick with my girl Vikki... ah! Those were the days.

Crazy... those kids went on for the rest of the group about my voice; saying, "Miss, I didn't realize you could talk mad black."

What can say? You can get the girl outta the ghetto but you can't take the ghetto outta the girl.

;)

In the beginning...

So I've been thinking. It's about time that I've established myself as a true blogger. You see, I've got the whole myspace thing going and thats fun n all but because they're always doing updates and whatnot, and the awesome blogs I posted were deleted. Perhaps accidentally but I was sooo freakin pissed off. I had spent so much time and effort posting those and then they vanished.

So I heard about this site and thought to myself, eh, why not. As an avid procrastinator, I could always use something else to fill up my much needed time. As an avid insomniac, now I'll have something to do besides watch infommercials, Golden Girls reruns, chain smoke, and rummage through the barren refigerator.

During one of my sleepless nights, I also thought that starting this whole blogger expedition might be a good idea since I'll be going through alot of changes this year. This will be my way of keeping my family and friends posted on my chaotic life and, perhaps, allow some people to get inside my head who've never had the pleasure.

From what I understand I can post pictures on this site too... nifty.