Friday, May 30, 2008

More fun with more visitors!

You just gotta love Facebook.com. Not only can you spy on people to see what they've been up to (not that I ever have... cough, cough...) you can rekindle old friendships really easily, which is something I value much more that I'm away from my friends and family.

So I was thrilled when my old friend Kim told me that she would be in the city and wanted to see if we could hang out.

Though I haven't seen Kim Krabach since high school - and even then I knew her as Kim Tabor - when we got together again, it was like we hadn't even been apart. We chatted about her family (she married another mutual friend of mine, Jeff, and the two of them have an adorable little boy, not quite two years old who they named Noah) her plans for the future, my upcoming wedding, my family, and other friends of ours from high school. It was just so great to kick back and relive old memories.

I met Kim and Noah on the east side of Central Park. Jeff was at work, so that left Kim, Noah, and I to hang out and explore the city. And since I am pretty unfamiliar with the east side, we spent more than an hour looking for a place to eat that was not ridiculously expensive. And since we were on the east side, which is home to the Upper East Side, also known as the place where no one in a million years could ever afford to live, that was no easy task.

Finally, we settled on a place called P.J. Clarks, which has another location a few blocks from my apartment. But since I had never been at that location, I figured it would be OK to eat there (I have vowed to try not to eat at the same place twice as long as I live in the city.)

After we ate a nice meal of hamburgers and fries, I checked out my iphone to see if there were any Pinkberrys nearby (there weren't) so we settled on plain, old ice cream (which was awesome, anyway).

After I dropped Kim and Noah off near the river where you catch the cable car to Roosevelt Island (where her sister lives), I saw that I was just four short blocks and, like 10 looooooong blocks from my apartment, so I decided to walk across the entire borough of Manhattan instead of taking the subway home. How long could it take? I had to go to 9th Avenue and I was on 1st.

It took 50 minutes, even with my long, power-walking strides! Man this city is huge!

Friday, May 23, 2008

Where else could you stumble onto the set of a movie?

New York City is fun in and of itself, but it's way more fun when you can experience it with someone else!

And since my fiance is always working, I had tons of fun with two of my cousins, Chris and Laura, recently. They were in town to visit some of Laura's family in New Jersey, but for one of the nights they were here, they left their two adorable young boys with their family there to spend an evening in the city. Though I was disappointed at that - in my mind, I had already planned stealing the kids away from their parents and taking them to the amazing playground/mini-water park in Central Park - I knew I could also have some fun with their parents.

But since I had to work in the morning, I directed them to The Met, then we met up later that evening and headed to the Hell's Kitchen location of the Chelsea Grill.

After a great dinner of a chicken sandwich, french fries, and beer, we strolled along to Times Square and capped off the evening with, of course, Pinkberry, before we headed back to my apartment for the night.

But on the way there, we passed by Columbus Circle, which is three blocks from my apartment. Even from a distance, I saw that it looked too busy, and as we got closer, I saw why. Most of the area had been blocked off by police and there were tons of people, spotlights, curtains, and cables snaking their way into the streets. Then we saw the guys behind the huge cameras and realized that we'd stumbled onto the set of a movie. (I took a photo of one of the cameramen from the center of Columbus Circle by the fountain and little green area near Central Park, which is why it looks like there's a jungle in the middle of Manhattan! But since I took it with my iphone, it's not very good, so look closely!)

So we did what anyone would do: We pretended we wanted to go into the mall so the police wouldn't stop us as we walked toward where all the lights were trained in front of the mall doors. Though we waited for a bit with a bunch of other people who were hanging out, the movie that they were filming remains a mystery. Every time someone would ask a crew member - so known because they all wore black hats with the word "crew" stiched on it - what it was he was doing, he'd reply "working."

And even the trusty old Internet didn't help us in trying to find out which movie was currently filming in New York. Guess we'll have to find out in a year or two!

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Signs you've been covering American Idol for WAAAAYYYY too long

Even though I am no longer a reporter at The Blade, I was asked to continue to write stories on a freelance basis about American Idol throughout the season. Since I love the show, and love the little extra cash on the side, I was happy to do it.

For the past few years, I would watch the show every Tuesday and take notes. Then I would watch the elimination show every Wednesday and write a little story about who got the boot for the Thursday paper.

In prior seasons, I was able to do a bit more with the show as it came down to the wire, like the story I did when it seemed like every idol came from the southern states or the one on the "Sanjaya effect."

But the end of this season just sprung out at me. I was just too busy with planning a wedding, working at the coffee shop, and freelancing other projects to realize it was already down to the final two.

So I called the features editor and chatted with him about what I could do to preview the finale of David Archuleta verses David Cook. The editor mentioned the words "lightweight verses heavyweight" because Archuleta is like 97 pounds verses Cook who is probably a healthy 170 or something.

Anyway, his phrase sparked an idea into my head, which I then put down on paper.

My article was WRITTEN AND HANDED IN TUESDAY MORNING. (Remember this because I'll make my point in a minute.)

Here is a few excerpts from the article I wrote:

Let's size up the competition.
Making his way to the stage from Murray, Utah, clocking in at just 17 years old is David Archuleta - who's affectionately called "Archie" by his fans.
An early favorite, Archuleta has rallied strong past forgetting a few bars of a Beatles song, stories about his overbearing stage father, and the minor criticism he's garnered from the judges over the course of the season.
...
But to prevail, Archuleta will have to use his voice to knock out David Cook - his title-worthy opponent from Blue Springs, Mo.
Over the past few months, the Chris Daughtry-esque rocker has traded in his red-streaked, spiky hair and soul patch for a more mature designer 'do complete with a scruffy beard. What hasn't changed about the 25-year-old known to fans as D.C. is his nice-guy, emotional side that stands out against his rock edge.
...
Two Davids. One stage.
Let's get ready to rumble!


So my idea was to write the story like a boxing match with some other references thrown in there for flair. I thought it was a good idea, and my editor liked it as well. So it was slated to be printed in the paper on WEDNESDAY MORNING (though I wrote it TUESDAY MORNING) on the day of the American Idol finale.

OK, so if you're following me, I then sat down to watch the final showdown of American Idol on Tuesday evening (after I wrote my story 8 hours earlier). I turned on the TV, and then froze.

The show started with a lone microphone being lowered to the stage. A few minutes later, both contestants, in full boxing gear, were introduced, and then a guy in a tuxedo yelled "Let's get ready to rumble." The rest of the show followed along like a boxing match. It was like the show's producers read my story first - the similarities were CRAZY SCARY.

Let me make sure you understand that I had NO IDEA that the show was going to be aired like a boxing match when I wrote my story like a boxing match. But since it was too late to change the story, and it was printed after the show aired, it just looked like I copied off every single creative element the show's producers put into that episode.

But let me set the record straight: it was MY IDEA first. They totally copied off me. Or I'm so in tune with the show that it's scary. That's when you know you've been covering American Idol for waaaaaayyyyy too long.

Monday, May 19, 2008

Anything but a vacation

This weekend is Brent and I's last one home in Toledo before (gulp!) the big day - our wedding.


Before we flew in, we sat down last Saturday and made a list of what we needed to get done.

Since it was so extensive, we actually had to break it down into an hour-by-hour list of where I was going to be, where Brent needed to be, and where we needed to meet up to finalize last-minute details together.



Here's what our weekend home was like - and it was anything but a vacation...



FRIDAY



9 a.m.: Brent and I drive separately to go together to his doctor's appointment.



10 a.m.: We again need to drive separately downtown to get our marriage license at the county courthouse. This was depressing in that while we were there, I could listen to the others filing for their licenses, many of whom had been divorced, had



12 p.m.: Closing on our condo (OH YEAH - WE FINALLY SOLD OUR CONDO! WOO-HOO!)

12:15 p.m.: I have my practice makeup appointment followed by my practice hair updo appointment at 1 p.m.



1 p.m.: He has an eye appointment.

3 p.m.: I have my final bridal gown fitting. (And was still a little too big in some areas, which means that the boot camp workouts are worth it!)



4 p.m.: I meet with my cousin, Gillian, who's designing the numbers that go on the tables at the reception as well as some poster boards with guests' names on them.



5 p.m.: Brent goes to a rehearsal dinner for a childhood friend who is getting married on Saturday.



7:30 p.m.: I meet up with my girls for my bachelorette party at Manhattans in downtown Toledo! Yay!



10:30 p.m.: I vaguely remember that I need to meet with the minister early Saturday morning as my cousin, Gillian, thrusts a drink called "the mind eraser" into my hands while we were at my (former) favorite downtown Toledo bar - Pub St. George. The reason it's now my former favorite bar is because at 10:30 p.m., my girls (and brother, who spent the majority of the night at my bachelorette party with his girlfriend for some reason) were the ONLY ONES AT THE BAR. Seriously - one of the bartenders was actually taking a nap in the corner. Sad.


11 p.m.: We take the party to my favorite Michigan bar, M.T. Loonies, where I have to stand outside in the cold while having to pee because my sister - who had my driver's license - wasn't there yet and the bouncer at the door didn't believe that I was 21.


11:30 p.m.: I introduce my brother to my favorite shot - a lime-green concoction called "the Scoobie Snack."


Midnight: I see one of the guys I had a mad crush on in high school and try to act casual while catching up with him even though I usually get tongue-tied while talking to him and was already rather tipsy.


12:30 p.m.: We weren't planning on having a stripper at my bachelorette party, so we convinced some random guy at the bar to take off his shirt for us. Awesome.


1:30 a.m.: All I'll say here is that my cousin Gillian snaps a ridiculous and extremely blackmail-able photo of both me and my sister, who happens to be my maid of honor who got WAAAAY more drunk than I did! Yikes.

SATURDAY


10 a.m.: I'm extremely proud of the fact that I don't have a terrible hangover as Brent and I head to the minister's home for a two-hour-long pre-marital counseling session. Guess I got the hang of the whole drink-pacing thing!


2:30 p.m.: Brent and I head over to the florist's home with his mom to talk about the flowers I'm envisioning.


2:35 p.m.: Brent continues to make faces at the flowers that I chose - Gerbera Daisies - because he says they're "ugly."


2:36 p.m.: I continue to ignore Brent because the flowers I chose are the most beautiful flowers in the universe. (Hey - he picked out the tux he'll be wearing... with minimal suggestions from me!)


5:35 p.m.: We arrive late (my bad!) for the wedding we were invited to at Olander Park. It was windy, but beautiful at the outdoor wedding and fun at the reception. I'm taking notes for my own wedding.


SUNDAY
I actually have a minute to relax before Brent and I head over to my parents' house for the bridal shower that my mom, sister, and cousin are throwing for me at 1 p.m. I'm there for the company, and fun games. Brent's there for the food and to play with the kids.

Though the shower was supposed to be outside, it was cold, windy, and looked like rain, so we moved it to my aunt's house - which is conveniently located next door to my parents' home.


I get to see an aunt, a cousin, and a few of my dad's aunts who I haven't seen in years.


For fun, I give out a quiz I created, titled "How Well Do You Know the Bride and Groom?"

Most people fail the quiz miserably, even though it was mostly multiple choice. Here are some sample questions:


-How many years older is Brent than Erika? (Answer: Almost 6)

-When did they first go out? (Answer: After Brent lost a bet.)

-Which city were the couple visiting when Brent proposed? (Answer: Las Vegas)

-What is Brent's secret girly vice? (Answer: He religiously watches The Hills and other shows about teen angst.)


As it turns out, Brent's mom and sister know us the best, even though the quiz was worth 20 points and they only got 16 and 17 questions right. But they got prizes for knowing us the best, anyway.


Also during the afternoon, I was given many wonderful gifts, including the much-needed luggage; kitchen items, including champagne flutes, recipes, and trivets; and tons of coffee paraphernalia as a sort of ode to my coffee shop job, including a coffee maker, a coffee grinder, coffee mugs, a frothing pitcher, and steam wand. Now I can make cappuccinos at home!


MONDAY
9 a.m.: Brent heads to the dentist.


10 a.m.: I have a second spray tan appointment to get ready for the big day!


11 a.m.: Brent and I meet up with a representative at the Toledo Botanical Gardens to ensure we know what goes where at our wedding site.


Noon: Brent and I head over to J. Foster Jewelers so I can pick out some earrings for my birthday present/wedding gift.


1 p.m.: Brent and I run little errand after little errand to places like AT&T and Wal-Mart to get last minute things done before catching the plane back to NYC.


So little time and yet still so much to do!

Friday, May 16, 2008

Museum of Sex


New York has an incredible number of museums. An incredible number of diverse museums that includes the Museum of Sex.

I went with my sister and cousin Gillian and, well, learned a lot to say the least.

I'd write more, but I'm a little hot and bothered... :)




Saturday, May 10, 2008

It IS a HAPPY birthday!

The big 2-6 was awesome - just as I knew it would be. (Someone must have put a curse on me on my 16th birthday. Every other year since then - on all my odd-numbered birthdays - something has gone TERRIBLY wrong and I've ended up hurt or crying or cheated on by my boyfriend or something else that's bad. And on my birthday! Weird, but consistently true.)

Anyway, a few days before the big 2-6, I got a card and a colorful package from two of my good college friends, Dave and Erin, who I miss a lot. Inside the package was what I'm calling my wedding day kit. It was a Burt's Bees (yeah! The good stuff!) tips, toes, hands, and feet kit that included stuff like hand cream, a pumice stone, chap stick, cuticle cream, foot cream, etc. LOVE YOU GUYS!


Then, the day before my birthday, I got messages from Bladers Maureen and Ignazio wishing me a Happy (early!) Birthday on May 8.


But my phone actually went dead late on Friday, my actual birthday, because of all the phone calls and text messages! Thanks to the birthday wishes from my mom and dad, my future mother- and father-in-law, one of my best friends Sarah, my cousin Alexis, my Aunt Mary, my childhood friend Amy, former colleague Larry (who said even for an older chick, I still look hot - LOL!), and my coffee-shop colleagues Orxan and Hansen.


I loved the monkey-inspired e-card I got from my future family - Brent's sister, Steph, who's married to his best friend, Doug, and their adorable kids, Katelyn and Mackenzie - who I call Katertots and Mackeroni - and will put the Bed, Bath, and Beyond gift card they sent me to good use!


And gotta love Facebook/Myspace. There, I got birthday wishes from college pal Eric Toth, high school friends Eric Cavey, and Tony, former Blade colleagues Karamagi, Vanessa (and hubby Charlie) and Ryan, my cousin Jason, and childhood friend Kristi.


Then, because they knew I loved mail, a few days after my birthday came a package from my future in-laws that contained - YES! - foot-massaging slippers. BEST PRESENT EVER.


Also right up there was the dress my mom bought for me along with the Dog Whisperer book and first season package that came from my parents - though I don't know why I'd need the Dog Whisperer... my dog is perfect! Except when she's attacking tiny, defenseless dogs...


Anyway, here's to everyone who made my birthday special (and anyone I may have missed accidentally) - you seriously don't know how much I appreciated it. Except for hopefully now you do because I just told you how much I appreciated it.


Here's to dreading the countdown to next year's birthday when I have to celebrate the odd-numbered 2-7!

Friday, May 9, 2008

Celebrate good times COME ON!!

Though I know my wedding is a little more than a month away, today, I don't care. My (precarious, anyway) wedding diet/exercise routine is on hold.

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY! WOO-HOO!

And how cool is it that my actual birthday fell on a Friday, and therefore a day where Brent was actually home from work at a decent time (meaning around 7:30 p.m.)

Though I was rudely awakened around 10 a.m. - a ridiculous hour on one's birthday - I didn't mind because it was my mom who wanted to sing to me!

Since I had the day off from work (of course!) and I was awake anyway, I decided to eat Fruity Pebbles in bed - where I stayed until well after noon. Just because I could!

Then I got another phone call from someone else who wished me a happy birthday. Oh, yeah, and she also offered me A JOB!!!! YAY!!!!

Now before you (or I for that matter!) get too excited, the job - which is at a small custom publishing firm - is on a project basis throughout the summer. I'm going to be working directly for the CEO and founder of the company in all the different facets of the firm (meaning with the marketing department, editorial, advertising, or wherever I'm needed). But it also could lead to something more down the road. She said if I worked for her for three years, I'd be able to open my own custom publishing firm because I'll have my hands in all the departments. So hopefully more on that in the future!

Anyway, after that awesome phone call, Jake came back to the apartment, and we decided that Starbucks and pizza was in order to celebrate! (Jake is Brent's former boss' son who has a summer internship in the city, so he's stayed with us a few times while going to meetings, etc.) So even though there was a torrential rain storm outside, we braved the weather so I could have a grande, 650-calorie Strawberries and Cream Frappuccino and Jake could grab a caramel drink. Y-U-M!

Then, even though the wind ruined the one umbrella we had, we trekked on to a nearby pizza parlor and ordered a large sausage and pepperoni pizza. Then, laughing, we ran back to my apartment in the rain, changed out of our drenched clothes into sweats, opened up the soaked pizza box, and demolished the pizza while laughing at the hilarious movie "Knocked Up" with Seth Rogan and Katherine Heigl.

Afterward, we went to see the dorms where Jake will be staying during the summer, changed out of soaked clothes once again, and I took a nap while wearing my new massaging slippers while he watched the ridiculously stupid movie "Nacho Libre" with Jack Black.

And even though we weren't really hungry (that pizza was HUGE!) we decided to have Mexican food delivered so we wouldn't have to go out in the rain again. Since you can't have Mexican food without Coronas, I went out to grab some for us to enjoy.

About 30 minutes after we were finished with dinner, Brent came home and suggested we go out to a bar to celebrate my birthday and new job. So I got all dolled up to go to his favorite bar, (how did that happen?) Valhalla, and tried eight different beers (between the three of us) from around the world while watching sports on TV. My favorites come from Belgium, which tend to be sweeter beers.

But since I drank my two beers, a Whiskey Sour, and a shot within about an hour, I was feeling pretty good by the time we wandered down to another bar so I could get some chicken fingers. And more beer - hey, it was a celebration!

The chicken fingers were good, but by that time I was feeling sick-drunk, so I told the boys I wanted to head home - even though it wasn't even 11 p.m. yet. (I need to know to PACE myself, apparently!) So after four blocks of walking (gotta love New York!) and a quick shower, I watched the ceiling spin around for awhile while thinking about how much fun the day was.

Tomorrow, I'll think about the 64,370 calories that I must have consumed. While at the gym for 23.5 out of the 24 hours.

I am SOOOO getting paid for this...

Maybe it's the copy editor in me, but when I'm not exaggerating for exaggerating's sake, I'm a stickler for accuracy. Just ask my fiance what I'm like during a heated game of Scrabble when he tries to play "words" like "ups" ("That's a word! He's got ups," says the fiance) or "ibud" ("It's something that goes along with Apple's iphone," he insists.)


So on Thursday, May 8, I kept my co-workers up-to-date on EXACTLY how many hours were left until it was OFFICIALLY my birthday at midnight. ("Only three hours and 42 minutes left until my BIRTHDAY! WOO-HOO!" I'd shout while doing a little dance I made up. Which probably made me look stupid. But who cares? It was going to soon be my BIRTHDAY!)


Obviously, I was excited about the bit 2-6, though I have no idea why. It's not like I'll now be able to (legally) buy a pack of cigarettes, drink, drive a rented car without the ridiculous fee, etc. Maybe it was because it was just an excuse to celebrate. Or maybe it was because I love getting mail and I was told by several people to be expecting something from them soon.


Whatever the reason, I was stoked when 11:45 p.m. rolled around and I was just about to leave the coffee shop with my two co-workers. I excitedly asked both of them if they wanted to celebrate the officialness of my birthday with a beer, but one said he already had plans and the other had to be back at the store early the next morning. So though both declined, I was undeterred because Jake, the beer-loving college student also known as Brent's former boss' son, was staying at our apartment again between meetings at his soon-to-be summer job, and I knew he'd be up for going out.


So as I sauntered to the door, humming a happy tune, I started fumbling with my keys and looking for the one to the store. And looking again... AND AGAIN.


"Where the hell is my key?" I said out loud. All my other keys were there, so why wasn't that one? Thinking quickly, I realized that I had left my keys at the store for two days while I was off work. (I used my spare set during that time because I was too lazy to walk back to the store to retrieve them.)


That meant that one of my co-workers had to have taken the key off my keyring while my keys were at the store. WHAT THE HELL? Why was someone touching my PERSONAL set of keys in the first place?


This would have been a big problem had I not been closing with one of the store's assistant managers. Obviously, he had a key, so all we had to do was use his. Except he lent his to the other assistant manager.


Brilliant. Two people who should have had keys didn't. That meant we had no way to lock up the store, which meant that I COULDN'T LEAVE until we figured out a way to lock up the store.


Here's where it's important to know that people in New York are a lot like people in Toledo when it comes to job commutes. When I lived in Toledo, my door-to-door commute to The Blade newspaper was 30 minutes. That commute was about typical, though there were many, like my dad, whose drives were much longer. My dad used to drive from Lambertville to Detroit (which is more than an hour) every single day to go to work before he was transferred to the much-closer plant in Perrysburg (still about 30 minutes, though). This was normal. Everyone drives in Toledo, so it's just a given that you'll have a (sometimes long) commute.


So even though I walk everywhere in New York - including to the coffee shop, which is three blocks away (yep - I was being REALLY LAZY) - I have come to realize that like in Toledo, people travel quite far to get to work. Except here, people travel far via train instead of car. Brent's commute, for example, is three blocks of walking to the subway station, 10 stops on the subway, and then another four blocks of walking to get to his office.


At my store, we have people who commute from every borough in the city as well as New Jersey. Two of my co-worker's commutes are two hours each. One, who commutes from Brooklyn, has to switch trains twice before he gets to a stop closest to the store. That means that if he's scheduled to work at 4:30 p.m., he has to leave his house at about 2 p.m. or earlier to make sure he gets there on time. Then he doesn't get home until around 2 a.m. Talk about a horrible commute!


I tell you this because there are just a handful of people who have keys to the coffee shop. Two were at the coffee shop without their keys, one lives in Jersey, one was home in the Bronx, one didn't answer her phone, etc. etc.


So that left us with the undesirable option of waiting for the people who deliver the milk and pastries at some point during the night because, obviously, they use a key to get in and drop off the products. Up until this evening, I'd never left the store past midnight, nor gotten there before 4:30 a.m., so I knew they came during that four-and-a-half hour period, but I just didn't know if they'd show up at 12:05 a.m. or 4:25 a.m.


And since none of us are ever supposed to be in the store alone, that meant that it was me and the assistant manager ringing in my birthday by sitting in a dark, empty store by ourselves. Waiting.


I will say here that if I was to be stuck in the store with any one of my co-workers, it would have been with the guy I was stuck with, so that was a big plus.


Here's how the rest of our evening went:


12:01 a.m. He sings "Happy Birthday" to me. I enjoy feeling like a kid being sung to at a birthday party.


12:15 a.m.: Our Bronx-living co-worker tells us via text message that this is the supposed time the milk guys show up, so we wait near the door for their arrival.


12:25 a.m.: We figure they should be coming any minute, but get comfortable on the cushy chairs we have at the store to wait anyway.


12:30 a.m.: I am hungry, so I start munching on a sandwich that was supposed to be thrown out if we hadn't sold it that day. I figured that it was still good, seeing since it was just 30 minutes past its expiration date.


12:40 a.m.: We remember that a few days prior, someone had tried to break into the store by throwing a brick at a window. Repairmen had come and replaced the window with wood while a new window was being shipped. We try to see if we can pry the wood away to squeeze out of the store through the window. We learn that we cannot.


12:45 a.m.: We rate the girls who walk by the store dressed in clubbing/bar-going attire, and discuss if they are better than/lucky to be with the guys they are holding hands with.


12:55 a.m.: We stop rating the girls because tonight - and most nights in New York - all of them seem to be a 9 or a 10 or even an 11, so it's pointless to decide whether that girl in the miniskirt and too-high heels was better looking than the previous girl clad in a miniskirt and too-high heels.


1:05 a.m.: We get thirsty, so we raid the refrigerators, try all the different juices, and tell each other which ones we like the best. One tastes like sand.


1:10 a.m.: We start telling jokes and laughing a lot. We really do have fun together.


1:15 a.m.: I ask him "truth or dare?"


1:16 a.m.: He chooses "truth" and I ask him a question I've been dying to know, and he's been skirting the answer to. But since we were playing "truth or dare," he has to be honest and I learn a valuable piece of information.


1:20 a.m.: I choose "truth" and he asks me who I hate at at the store. I honestly tell him that I hate no one. This leads to a conversation about our co-workers.


1:22 a.m.: He starts telling me store "secrets," like who supposedly is dating who, etc. I learn more valuable information.


1:40 a.m.: He gets excited over a garbage truck that he thought was the milk delivery guys. I laugh at him.


1:41 a.m.: The conversation turns to the very serious topic of Sept. 11 because I've always wanted to know what that day was like for a New Yorker. His story fascinates me.


1:55 a.m.: I announce that I am really cold, so my co-worker gives me his sweatshirt and tries to stay warm by tucking his arms inside his T-shirt. I remember why I like my co-worker so much.


1:57 a.m.: We get hungry again so we find snacks. We eat them.


2:01 a.m.: We are both really tired, so we start getting slap-happy and contemplate seeing who can drink an entire bottle of syrup. Luckily, we don't follow through on this idea.


2:05 a.m.: We think about playing musical chairs, and tell our Bronx-living co-worker this information via text message. (He is useful for late-night conversations, but not late-night getting-on-the-train-for-a-long-commute-to-save-us missions.)


2:06 a.m.: We nix the idea to play musical chairs for three important reasons:
1. There are only two of us, and therefore no one to start and stop the music.
2. We don't have any music.
3. It's a dumb idea.


2:08 a.m.: We think every truck that goes by is the milk delivery guys, and therefore set ourselves up for disappointment over and over again.


2:16 a.m.: The phone rings and we both race for it like it holds the answer for our salvation. I answer it formally as if it were a customer calling at 2:16 a.m. for some reason: "... this is Erika, how may I help you?" My co-worker laughs at me.


2:17 a.m.: I hear our Bronx-living co-worker ask in astonishment "You're still there?" just as I hear my co-worker shout "THE MILK GUYS ARE HERE!" I relay this information into the phone as excited as I would have been the second I found out that someone had thrown me a surprise birthday party. Which no one did, apparently.

2:18 a.m.: I refrain from hugging the milk guys while asking them "Where the hell have you been?" They tell us this is an early time for them to be at our store. I stop being mad at them.


2:19 a.m.: My co-worker and I practically skip out of the store and part ways near my apartment building with a hug. I feel a kinship with my co-worker for sharing this could-have-been-horrible-but-actually-turned-out-to-be-pretty-fun experience that kicks off what I hope to be a great 26th year of life!