Hot Cup of Crazy

(Pictures above: Matt & I in-front of the "LOVE" sign in NYC. Tanya, Adam, Suzanne, and I in Chicago during Mondrian's Wedding Weekend. "The Gates" in Central Park Winter 2005)
I've had four different men cause me undue stress in the last five days: three of them where vagrants in my neighborhood, and the other one was my boss.
The first man was on the corner of 6th and Bleeker in the Village near my house. Matt and I were holding hands going to get a cupcake at Magnolia bakery. "Hey, man, give me some change." I have had many folks ask me for money before, but never demand it.
I said, "Sorry man." He said, "I wasn't talking to you ho."
Ho! Ho? Ho?!?! Wow. I would have turned around and cussed him out, but he had a crazy look in his eye, so I thought I would leave it be.
The other two men harassed me within a 24 hour period. One this past Saturday afternoon coming back from the gym. This man was older, homeless and sitting on the stoop of the corner grocery store asked me for change. I ignored him, trying to avoid eliciting another hate-laced, "I wasn't talking to you ho" response. But by ignoring this man I got an angry, "Whaddya too good for me bitch?"
I wiped around, "WHAT?!?!?"
"That's right, you heard me, you f*%king b*$ch! Why don't you go and suck a *(@)!"
"WHAT!?!?"
Now, listen, I know, NYC has it's stress and I know that people tell each other to go f&*k them selves all the time, but come on, I lived in Brooklyn for almost four years and I have never been harassed like this.
This morning alone I sat in the subway reading (flipping through) a really fantastic novel (Bazaar Magazine) and a man reached toward me with a pamphlet in his hand titled, "If you think it's hot here, try HELL."
He said, "I think you need this."
"No thank you" I said walking away from him.
"Do you not want to except Jesus Christ as your lord and savior?"
"Um, hmmm, I'm ok. Thanks." As I begin to walk away he said,
"No your NOT! Take the pamphlet b*tch."
What?!?!?
I told him, "That's not very Christian of you."

I don't know why I attract "the crazy," but I do.
I have always had (have) compassion for those less fortunate and those that are going through difficult times; I think it is easier to be compassionate to those folks, but what about those that act that way and have $18,000 worth of shoes and are the male version of Anna Wintour?
That would be my boss. He bangs on the desks like a child whining and all the while demanding phone numbers for his minute to minute phone appointments, for his car to be serviced, to schedule his weekly $600 haircuts, and his OCD behavior has made me realize this world is run by children, and not the good kind. Babies with short fuses. I am one the lucky ones as I am not his personal assistant, but a "colleague" (his word).
All of this has made realize that there is only one thing to do in this life: follow your dreams, and don't drink the (crazy) kool-aid.

Born today...In Denver, Co...

Kelly told me my last post was too negative (that's because she is one of my friends that's always a ray of sunshine even in dark days...Which by no coincidence her middle name is "Rae."). So, I thought I would reflect a little today since it's my birthday and now that I am firmly planted in the third decade of my life, I thought I would focus on the positive...
hmmm...This is hard...Ok. I can do this...
I had wonderfully birthday wishes today from all over the country from dear dear old friends like Dave S. And Brent (aka fu), text messages and songs (Suzanne always sings the best happy birthday song to me).
And of course Matt has called me all day to make sure I am enjoying my birthday (because I am work today and he knows I work the Prince of Darkness...Who, luck would have it, is working from his home in NJ).
When every I think my life is getting difficult I do laugh at myself, because I do have many perfect moments. Like when Adam and I dance and talk about how absurd everything is, or taking a two hour lunch with Robert (like I did today) to order a bottle of wine at a sushi restaurant over looking the Metropolitan Opera House where our artist perform; Sitting in Washington Square park like Matt and I did this past weekend sitting on a bench in perfect weather listening to a three piece jazz band, or the week before when we watched (from the very same bench Campbell Scott) shoot his next movie.
Talking to my brother Matisse about his new son, and my new nephew Carter, and talking to my other brother Mondrian about politics and life in general.
I meet so many new friends here that I adore, like Vernonica who I have 5 min bursts of telephone conversations where we try and catch up with each other, or Amanda how is one of the most geninue people I have meet in a long time...
I love all the music in this city.
I love all the mistakes (there has been quite a few) that I have made so far because whatever I did wrong in a relationship or job; it brought me here to New York.

"Is jaded bitch your only flavor?"

(pictured are my best friends: my boyfriend matthew and tanya b.)

Yes. This is my new favorite line from the IFC show "Minor Accomplishments." Why? Because Jaded Bitch is to Maya as Red is to Apple. I can't figure it out. Except to say that living in New York is the best place to live if you are a naturally jaded human being.
I complain constantly, "why is this fucking train delayed?" "why is the fucking weather so shitty!" "why does my boyfriend want have sex ever fucking second of the day!" etc. etc.
The greatest part is, no one around me ever says, "buck up little camper...You live in the greatest city in the world!" No one says that to me, because they are with me...well, complaining. That sounds bad, but if you are one of my very good and dear friends, you probably spend the majority of your day venting (bitching); and I am you friend, because I will support you in your annoyance, your frustration and boardline nervous breakdowns, because bitching to us, is like a good tension relieving message...I know that my friends and I are all basically very positive (when it counts), it just pisses off that there is so much frustrations in our daily adult lives.
Besides that I am unbelievably good at being a bitch. I work in office where I am the only female in my division. I have never seen so many men afraid of me (except for my ex-boyfriends). If I am having a bad day, they won't come any where near my office door, or if they have to, they won't look me in my eye.
I realized the other day, that part of my frustration is due to the fact that my office is an "old (wasp) boys club" where deals are still made in the men's bathroom, the CEO of the company has never introduced himself to me, but he has introduced himself to the young caucasian male that sits in the cubicle in front of my office. My boss is a bigot, sexist, homophobic,(i'm sure he is probably racist too, but the thing about be black/spainish is, you don't usually get to hear the racist words flying while in an office environment) prick, that says things to me like, "I would never cuss infront of lady like you ..." Man..if he only knew.

New York...New York...And random thoughts

It's been a little over three years now since I moved to New York....it's been overwhelming...Beautiful, full of anxiety, brilliant, terrifying....Some of the most amazing moments of my life have happened here. I think that might be why I don't write anymore. Anyone who has ever known me, knows that I used to write in a journal every night...I haven't written once since I have been here...For some reason, I decided to start now, except in this form (blog)... I liked reading about Kelly Roberts' and Ama Reynolds' life so much that I thought I would try and start sharing mine..

I just moved to the West Village last night from Park Slope. West 3rd Street. My favorite pub there is Chumley's, where T.S. Eliot, Hemingway and Fitzgerald used to sit and drink...it's an old speak easy, and although the crowd is now heavy in the pocket book, it's still feels good to have a drink where there was once these brilliant men and women.

I now live next store to the Blue Note Jazz Cafe, where the late Sarah Vaughan and Dizzy Gillespie used to perform, a few paces away is the IFC theatre. As Matt and I walked down to the IFC, I saw a man that smiled at me. I waived. I thought I knew him. It was Paul Giamatti from "American Splendor." I realized I didn't really know him, I had just seen his movies. That happens all the time here.

I am surrounded by people here, but it is comfortable to me, a single person in the mass. I find myself narrating my life here (like the crazy person that I am).

Two weeks ago I was walking down 7th ave in Brooklyn, exhausted, not wanting to go to work, I was stressed out about moving into the city (excited too). I walked into the subway tunnel waiting for the Q train and a violinst begin to play. Everyone feel silent in the subway and just listened... it was so beautiful.

Sitting on the subway differs day to day for me. Sometime I have children stare at me wanting to talk to me, sometimes I see a very beautiful man and I wished that I looked better that day, sometime there is a performer that's just brilliant, but most of the time everyone looks so sad...and why not, public transportation can be very depressing!