Timon's Birthday Week Extravaganza Pt 1

Last week another barista from Greenacre quit. That's 3 for 3 months that we've been in business. This meant that poor old Julia had to pull a few double shifts to cover the gaps while Scott was away on holiday. Monday was the first and all the early mornings that I stupidly committed to were catching up with me. I had Syd with me as she had awesomely stepped up and taken the place of our lost barista on short notice, but she needed training. Training on how to set up the crates as a comfy seat, work on crosswords and talk to Durell all day. Timon dropped by on his way home from work and ended up staying to help me shut up shop (early because of some torrential rain). It's crazy how often the weather abruptly changes in this city. And how quickly your body adapts and then complains, wishing for whatever weather has disappeared. We decided to walk over to 5th Avenue Best Buy to look at XBoxes. It's Timon's birthday on the 28th and he needs a present. But the weather didn't see it that way and decided to bucket it down on two lowly Aussies without an umbrella and in canvas shoes. Best Buy was out of stock to we traipsed over to 63rd and Broadway to another location. We found what we were looking for, charged it and ran home, thoroughly soaked.

With the present in the bag I could focus on the party that we were having on Tuesday at Scott and Sydney's house in the Bronx. I'd bought a rad selection of Mexican themed decorations and devised a menu including Scott's Spectacular Guacamole, Scott's Delicious Mexican Layered Dip, Mexican Burgers, Mojitos and Margaritas. As you can see, Scott not only offered to host but offered to mix up a bevvy of amazing food offerings. On Tuesday I struggled through another 11 hour double shift and made my way up to BX just in time for the party. Timon had done all the food shopping, Scott had done the prep and I needed to sit down and have a strong drink. We were joined by Frans, Michelle, their friend Kieran, Erica, Scott's friend Dean and other housemate Ishmael, Scott and Syd. Dean is an incredible tinfoil artist/sculptor and after a few drinks he conducted a competition where we all attempted to create animals using foil. I'd like to say I was the winner (I made a cat)but I believe the award went to Ishmael for an impressive scorpion. The party was forced inside by another spurt of heavy rainfall and intense lightning but we carried on gorging in the kitchen. Later in the evening we crammed into Scott's bedroom for a display of film clips projected onto his wall. The night ended with an array of youtube clips suggested by the audience (including this winner). It was a weird night.

This is a Statue of Liberty and Oscar the Grouch created by Dean for Timon

MOMI, Muppets and Murderous heat

Last Friday (22nd) was hot. I mean, it was scorching. I left the house at 6.30am and even then it was stifling and oppressive. Timon and decided it was time to bite the bullet and buy an AC unit for the window. Best Buy had them for $129 plus tax and we would just cop the extra electricity bill when the time came. There are just some luxuries in life that are worth the extra expenditure - wine, food and relief from a raging inferno. The window fan we had just wasn't cutting it and besides, we have 5 extra fur-covered bodies to take care of! Anyway, enough justification, the AC is a revelation. I know the newspaper recommends going no lower than 78 degrees to conserve energy and help the city avoid a blackout BUT 60 degrees is like an ice-box heaven!

On Saturday I worked in the morning and had my first volunteer shift at the Museum of the Moving Image that night. I'd worked it out so I could minimise my travel time by going there straight from Jack's. The trip to Queens is about an hour form our apartment but only 15 or so minutes from midtown. Or so I thought. What I'd neglected to do was check the MTA website for service disruptions on the subway. I left work in plenty of time with the intention of perusing the museum before starting my shift. I walked in the sweltering heat to 59th Street (from 51st) to jump on the R train. I made my way down the stairs and through the twisting tunnels of the station to find that the R train platform was inexplicably roped off. No signs. Just ropes. So back up to the street I went. I checked my map and thought to try 60th Street and 5th Avenue. Down the stairs.....and signs everywhere saying no trains at this station. At all. Back to the street I go. By this time I am supremely grouchy and hot and red and sweaty. I ended up walking down 5th Avenue and across to 7th to find the nearest train that would take me somewhere in the vicinity of the museum. An hour and 15 minutes later! I had been into the bowels of Queens and back and finally made it to MOMI. Where instead of walking around the museum I sat in the air conditioned cafe and recovered.

I was gifted a 'Volunteer MOMI' t-shirt and sent up to the top floor to man the entrance to the new Jim Henson exhibition. It was my responsibility to tear tickets, turn people away if they'd arrived to early for their timeslot and remind people that no photos were allowed. Pretty cruisey stuff but also very boring stuff. I was abandoned by anyone resembling an employee so kept myself entertained by watching clips from the Muppets and Sesame Street projected on the wall. When the crowd dwindled I took it upon myself to leave my perch and explore the Henson exhibit and was thrilled to find the original Bert and Ernie puppets. They had also secured Kermit, Miss Piggy, Rowlf and a Fraggle - not to mention some cool costumes from The Dark Crystal and storyboards from The Labyrinth. As a volunteer I was given a free membership for the year which includes film screenings. I'm looking forward to taking Timon there to check out the whole museum. I spied some pretty awesome props in one gallery - the spinning head Exorcist dummy and a terrifying Freddy Krueger rubber chest (from when all the faces protrude trying to escape his tummy). I think the whole volunteering thing will be super boring but the payoffs are pretty cool!

A Day of Free Movies :)

The best things about cinemas in Manhattan is the half-price matinee. Being too stingy to pay $13 to see a film Timon and I often drag our butts out of bed before noon to enjoy the same film for only $6. Being even more stingy we decided that we would try and sneak into another film on the same day, effectively halving the admission price again! I'd noticed on our many, many trips to AMC Lincoln Square that there were very few floor staff hovering around the lobby and that it would be easy as pie to slip from one film to the next unnoticed. So we made a plan, worked out which films to see and bought our tickets with nervous excitement. Somebody had other ideas. EVERY time we go to this cinema we are directed to the top floor where the main lobby, concession stand and approx 15 screens are. But on this day our tickets directed us downstairs to some 3 screen baby lobby with 5+ floor staff sitting around watching everything. FOILED!! I guess we are just not born to break the rules.

After the film, outside on the street, as some kind of holy justice for our misfortune, we were offered free passes to a preview screening of The Change-up (starring Jason Batemen and Ryan Reynolds). We registered and locked it in and invited Scott and his housemate Syd. The day rolled around and we met outside the cinema around the time suggested on the pass. Unfortunately, so did about 300 other people! The queue came out the door, around the block and over 2 avenues. There is something in my brain that thinks people won't show up for stuff. It's probably from experience in Melbourne where there is so much going on at one time that there aren't enough people to attend everything. But I forget New York is a city of 10 million residents plus a zillion more tourists. People, and lots of them, show up for everything. Luckily we made it into the theatre and really enjoyed the film. I'm not sure I enjoyed it as much as some others in the audience though - there is a truly American habit of laughing really incredibly loud at even the lamest jokes at the cinema. I saw the guy across the aisle from me actually slap his knee in mirth. It makes for a lively, entertaining experience beyond the screen.

In the lobby of the cinema they were setting up for a premiere of Captain America, red carpet and all. They had glass cabinets with costumes from the film and a mounted CA shield. It was very cool and reminded me how much I love the opportunities for awesomeness in this city.

We went straight from Lincoln Square to Pier 70 on the Hudson River for a free outdoor screening of Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956). The sun was setting behind the screen and we looked out over the river and the far shore of New Jersey. We were lucky enough to get there in time for the last remaining seats and while I saved them (to the chagrin of many latecomers) while the boys went off for pizza and wine. We ate fresh mozzarella and basil pizza and drank red and white wine through one of my favourite films, listening to the occasional echo of the dialogue off the skyscrapers behind us. While there is typically nothing better than a free movie, there is absolutely nothing better than this.

Burlesque and the Bolsheviks

One night a couple of weeks ago I took advantage of being home alone and watched the film 'Burlesque'. So when John from GA invited Timon and I to an evening of burlesque in the Lower East Side I jumped at the chance to ogle Christina Aguilera look-alikes and get my groove on. We arrived a little bit late and I should have instantly known by the bar's decor that this would be no Cher-standard show. It was a $5 entry and we had arrived 10 minutes late and missed half the show. John bought the first round of drinks and we entered this velour curtained back room on Avenue A. The first act was a very skinny woman made up like a devil with red skin and horns. She did some weird, awkward dance moves stuck her tongue out a lot and finally removed her bra to reveal red sequin pasties. The second performer was dressed as Frida Kahlo, complete with mega monobrow. Her act culminated in her biting the head off a flower and then spitting it out. There were pasties with tassels, high waisted silk panties and ultra-thongs that showed way too much. The final extravanganza was a hula-hoop performance that would have been all the more impressive and all the less awkward if the girl had kept her top on. There was a a moment half way through when everything stopped to move on a pervy onlooker that was peering through the curtain from the street. Seriously dude, I'm not sure I would have even bothered watching the show for free. Kudos to the ladies for having the confidence to wobble and shake all over the tiny stage but boo to the organisers who couldn't gather a large enough crowd to make the limited cheering seem less pathetic. OH I forgot to mention that the show was emcee'd by a drunk dude dressed as Hunter S Thompson but all he did was make me miss our old housemate Nick who does a much better impression.

Afterwards we met up with John's friend who had invited him to the show and we went for late night tacos. We got stuck next to a couple of insanely drunk girls who talked obnoxiously to everyone in the tiny restaurant. John's friend tried to recruit us all to a hedonism week in Jamaica where you pay $1500 for the experience, and clothing is optional.

Later that week Scott called on us to accompany him to a exhibition opening at the New Museum on the Bowery. I embraced the event because it gave me a chance to wear high heels for the first time since the girls visited AND there was an open bar. The weather was diabolically hot but that didn't stop Scott from dressing up in a full leisure suit and fedora. We drank some way too strong vodka cocktails (the exhibition was some Russian/Communist/Eastern Europe malarky), made a cursory walk-around of the gallery and downed some free wine before heading to the oldest 'saloon' in NYC McSorley's. This place had intentional saw dust littered all over the floor (pretentious if you ask me) and only served 2 kinds of beer - McSorley's light and McSorley's dark. They came as 2 for $5 in tiny tankards and were the only drink on the menu. The boys had burgers while I indulged in a liverwurst sandwich (have you seen that on a menu anywhere??) and we sat around a table with a recent film graduate and aspiring filmmaker who waxed lyrical about Cassavetes and asked us to donate to his budget. We escaped McSorley's and ended up back at GA (as per usual) to make late night drunk milkshakes and take way too many photos of Scott in his suit pretending to lift weights.

Pickle-backs and Harry Potter madness

A couple of days after the aforementioned Loko disaster I was still recovering. My body, my head, my soul was wounded and heavy. But one must muster and sally forth, especially upon invite to Astoria. The 'chic' part of Queens, we were drawn to Astoria by the mythical legend of the "Pickle-back". Long ago when Timon went up to Bronxville for a dinner with some colleagues from his composing work. A dude called Curtis extolled the virtues of the pickle-back and insisted we join him one evening so after work we headed to some tiny bar that boasted deep fried pickle poppers and the infamous shot. I must mention - there is a total pickle obsession in this country. Anyone who has visited us so far will know (Ian, Alice, Lauren, Lucy) that pickles come as a free side dish to most diner/restaurant meals. And I know I don't eat them so I don't know who is.

The night was chilled and we ended up on a large table with one of Curtis' friends who was planning a trip to outback Oz later this year. He asked us a million questions and his biggest fear (crocodiles) was confirmed when that recent pic of a guy feeding a mammoth croc off the side of a boat appeared on someone's IPhone. I was still majorly fatigued from a solid week of antibiotics and tonsilitis recovery so was fairly sober when the time came. One straight whiskey shot followed by a host of what can only be described as fetid, warm, spicy pickle juice. Never again.

I think I uttered those words after our next blog-worthy experience on Thursday night. I had thought it would be a nice idea to go to the midnight screening of Harry Potter 7 pt 2. Little did I realise that there wasn't ONE midnight screening in NYC - there were approximately 25 screenings around midnight per cinema. I thought about a double feature of pt 1 and pt 2 but they were all sold out in the most convenient cinemas to us. So we finally got tickets to the 12.06am 2D session at AMC Times Square. Timon worked until 8 so we planned to collect the tickets from the cinema around 9pm and go for dinner on Restaurant Row. I jumped off the subway at 42nd Street around 9 and walked straight onto a massive, around the corner queue. There would definitely be no restaurant dinner for us tonight! Timon joined me not long after and we set up camp for the next 3 hours. We got gross food cart food ($5 for a terrible hotdog, damn you Times Square inflation!) and waited it out. Every so often a staff member would walk along and call out theatre numbers that were ready for 'inside queuing' and the outside queue would dissipate. It was someone's bright idea to announce our theatre number from the back of the queue which meant there was a major bums rush and all the people who had queued from 4pm got screwed. Being so early, we found very decent seats half way back and near the middle. We did Sudoku and read the paper until showtime, saving seats while the other bought candy etc etc. We tried unsuccessfully to nab some Harry Potter style Special Edition 3D glasses from another theatre but they were all guarded by weary floor staff. By this time the excitement of seeing the film had severely waned and I was pretty grouchy. This was partly resolved by seeing the first teaser trailer for The Dark Knight Rises. HP7pt2 was a decent film although about halfway through most of the audience started sobbing, LOUDLY, and didn't stop for the rest of the film. It started off being a sweet sadness shared by us and then got a little funny and finally was just really, really annoying. The icing on this tiring and stressful evening was the terrifying bottle-neck death march out of the cinema when the film was over. Sure the AMC managers had staggered the sessions to enable easier entrance to the cinema but I'm not sure they thought about finishing 25 sold out films within 5 minutes of each other and the chaos that would ensure. There were hundreds of us filing out with only a single spaced escalator as an exit!

All said and done, New York does not do a midnight session like IMAX Melbourne.

"Four Loko is no joke-o"

On Monday Jack's GA held it's first staff meeting. In attendance were the crew (Scott, John, Colleen and me) plus the bosses. We closed up the kiosk early and went over the road to BXL, a Belgian beer bar and restaurant. It was a fairly awkward affair with uncomfortable back-slapping mixing in amongst the silences. Our GA crew gets on great and socialises ALOT both on and off site. But somewhere during this meeting our team was muted by uncertainty and the odd combination of business and pleasure. It was just weird because we all had gripes and concerns but found no platform to discuss them because we were showered with compliments and bought our dinner. But enough about that (although I'll mention I had spaghetti carbonara and two glasses of Pinot Grigio to go with my discomfort).

When the meeting mercifully ended the bosses went on their way and we were left on the sidewalk considering our next move. Drinks. Immediately. There was also a big vote for air conditioning. We found a bodega around the corner and in my quest for cider I stumbled across 4 flavours of Four Loko. Four Loko is a brand of mixed drink in a giant can, somewhat like a UDL. The actual alcohol ingredient is a malt liquor mystery but it's content is a brutal 12%. The "Four" refers to 4 ingredients - alcohol, caffeine, guarana and taurine. The reason this bodega discovery was so exciting is because the drink has been the subject of many-a-joke over the last couple of months. I won't divulge the full details, I'll just say that someone we know had a crazy experience with Four Loko where they woke up in hospital. It doesn't sound so funny I guess......

..........but we bought all 4 anyway. Having been summoned to the party, Timon arrived not long after we settled in. The only reason we ever convene in the city is the air conditioning. The space is tiny and inconvenient, brightly lit and furnished with crates. I picked out the green can (watermelon flavour) and started the journey. Timon caught up quick with a 6 pack of Fosters and we laughed and laughed and laughed until we didn't.


The night wound up around 11.30pm when I couldn't feel my face and Scott almost OD'd on green tea matcha powder. We piled into a cab and collapsed on the bed (Scott on the couch) while the kittens tried in vain to capture our attention. Timon kissed the porcelain god before we went to sleep and I woke up in the middle of the night in a sweat, fighting and defeating the urge to erupt. The moral of the story, so succinctly summed up by Colleen is that "Four Loko is no joke-o". I am still feeling the painful reminders of that night when a $2.50 can of devil juice blew the top of my head.

Deep Fried Turkey BBQ

Last Saturday Greenacre Park was closed for waterfall maintenance which meant that I was free to attend Groundskeeper Charles' BBQ down in Alphabet City. Timon was at work (yes! Timon is back at work at Jack's Coffee Front Street location) so I met up with Scott on East Houston and we walked along to Avenue C. The weather was scorching but luckily Charles' backyard is basically a cement alley behind the apartment block and was shielded from the sun. When we arrived Durell was manning the BBQ and the table was spread with an epic array of grilled goods. There was BBQ chicken, jerked chicken, hotdogs, hamburgers, ribs, italian sausages, mac&cheese, coleslaw and a grand deep fried whole turkey. It was a real family affair with visiting rellies from South Carolina, kids, cousins, babies, partners and one white guy from the apartment building. We tucked into plates of chicken and sides (I opted to avoid the ribs and resulting sauce-face) and drank our way through various ciders and beers. I was shown the neighbouring park (which Charles' also owns) by a granddaughter/niece and she showed me turtles and goldfish swimming in the pond.

John (co-worker) and his girlfriend Sasha arrived and I chewed her ear off about her cool job. I've noticed my interest in other people's careers has heightened dramatically since being in New York. More than ever I've realised the importance of making connections with people, networking if you will, and discovering how and why they do what they do. It sounds a little use-y but it seems to be the only way to get anywhere in this city. My interest was peaked when I found out Sasha works as a production coordinator on film shots. She runs the necessary office related matters that enable the shoot to run smoothly. Basically she's immersed in two of my favourite things - film and admin! We talked about this for ages, about our own career crises and hopes for the future. She's ready to move on and try something new and I'm ready to jump feet first into her career! Who knew what you discover when you just talk to people.

The sun went down and the music went up and the dancing came out. Timon finished up at work and joined us for the last few scraps of deep fried turkey (#3) and a couple of beers. Charles' wife came around and read our palms, deciphering the lines and forming marriage prophesies left, right and centre. She dragged Scott onto the makehift dance floor and they shimmied through an aisle of spectators. I laughed, hard. At 10pm the festivities were ended abruptly as Charles is not only a resident of the building, but is a responsible owner and landlord. The air was still muggy and thick with BBQ and Scott, John, Sasha, Timon and I stumbled through the East Village and found our respective ways home. Timon and I chose to walk across town, watching the crowds of drunkards gathered outside various bars. It took a good hour and half to walk then catch 2 trains but after all I'd eaten the exercise was welcome.

Independence Day

The weekend before July 4 was a cacophony of firework explosions, and let me tell you that fireworks sound suspiciously like gunfire, especially the illegal cracker ones. So it's possible that people were celebrating but it's also possible that a war was raging outside our apartment. I signed up to work every morning over the weekend and by Monday I was really struggling with the 7.30am starts. Sunday spoiled us with torrential rain, drenching me on the walk from 53rd to 51st street. Because no-one was stupid enough to come to the park on such a day, Durell the groundskeeper and I setup the laptop and watched The Eagle. On Monday the weather was gorgeous but the park was still empty so we watched Blade 2 and Sanctum. So I can't really complain about working so much, as I didn't so much work.

Timon collected me from work on Monday afternoon and we headed to Trader Joe's to stock up on party food. We'd invited Timon's old boss Erica, my boss Scott and friend Sydney over for some dinner, kitten love and a screening of Independence Day. What could be more appropro? We grabbed red/white/blue corn chips and all the fixins for chilli and went home to clean the house.

NB. Our fridge died. And we got a new one. There was some awkwardness when the delivery guys came (a day late because they broke the first one in the warehouse) and demanded a tip for lugging it up 5 flights of stairs. Timon refused - because we didn't buy the thing and surely it was the landlord's responsibility? It worked out ok, moral ambiguity aside. Now we have a sparkling new fridge that keeps food cold where I could put all the fixins.

Erica arrived promptly and we drank our way through some episodes of Family Guy. I'd been down to the liquor store earlier and was reminded of how truly awesome the USofA can be - 1 litre bottle of whiskey and a bottle of sangria for $22! Scott arrived hours later but decked out in my favourite purple tie-dyed kitten tee. The most mortifying part of the evening arose when Erica asked me, very politely, if the chilli had meat in it. I stared at her for a while trying to figure out the nature of the question. Oh. Erica is a vegetarian. Crap. Luckily I was able to sate her hunger with a Jack's strawberry salad and cheesy rice, but nonetheless I felt pretty sheepish, even now. The main main event was Independence Day, an epic alien invasion flick populated with a devilishly handsome and nerdy Jeff Goldblum, a devilishly handsome and cavalier Harry Connick Jnr, a less-devilishly handsome Bill Pullman and Will Smith. Erica and I cheered and gasped and hooted while Timon sat stoically and Scott slept. Apparently he'd had a rough weekend in the Hamptons. We finished up the evening with sea-salt sprinkled chocolate brownies and Chopper, Scott's favourite Aussie film.

We didn't do fireworks and we didn't do BBQ but I think we did the 4th of July in the best possible way.

Frans' : The aftermath

Afternoon Timon and Julia - water fights, beer, cider, snags and sun

Add wine and karaoke - Nighttime Timon and Julia!

The very idea of things

Last weekend a friend of a friend asked me what I loved about New York. I thought and I thought and realised that I really love the IDEA of New York. I'm not sure if this is sadly superficial or tragically idealistic. Ideas and realities are often far apart. The idea that New York is home to a million fantastic restaurants - when really there are many many mediocre restaurants and a handful of gems. Same goes for shops. Same goes for bars. The idea that the subway is a convenient and quick form of travel - when really Timon and I spent an hour and a half going up and downtown trying to get the F train to Brooklyn. Seems they just closed some stations for no reason. The idea that there is a never-ending parade of entertainment options in the city - when really, no normal people can afford to do 3/4 of that stuff on their salary.

I do have moments of awesome realisation and these are what I tried to communicate to this friend. Like when I work an 8 hour shift staring out the tiny kiosk window that is Jack's Coffee and get really grouchy when I spill litres of hot coffee down my shirt BUT then walk outside the shop, lock the door and look up. And I'm in midtown Manhattan. It's pretty cool. I often have that feeling in the mornings when I'm walking to the C train on the way to work. I'm scowling down 105th because I had to get out of bed but then I turn the corner onto Central Park West, see all those fancy mansions and get a little perspective. I love the idea of living in New York, so much so that I persuaded my boyfriend to move here on little more than a wisp of a dream. More than that I love the idea of living in the United States. This is based on my previous experiences here and a total fascination for the culture, differences (and obsession with tack). I love having sneaky margaritas after work with friends and looking up at the Chrysler Building on the walk home. And I love Times Square.

I was having all these thoughts last night in a drug fueled tonsillitis haze. They were definitely more coherent then. The crux of the matter is that while I can't pick out specific things I love about living in New York (because almost everything can be said about other cities) just the IDEA of it keeps a smile on my face.