music, central park zoo, cupcakes and more.

So much has been happening lately, I don't even know where to begin.

I suppose the first order of business is to mention a gig I have coming up this weekend with a Grammy Award winning rapper who's very, very famous and was recently in Dave Chappelle's Block Party documentary. It's unexpected and pretty sudden, and I'm not going to lie, I'm a little nervous about it. Sight reading is required -- not my strongest point -- but thus far the music that has been sent to me does not look difficult.

Other news -- I played Bernstein's Chichester Psalms last night. The concert (chamber version) went very well, especially considering I had VERY short notice to learn the piece, which is notoriously difficult for my instrument. I never had a chance to have a complete rehearsal with the full ensemble and almost zero time to tune (not to mention no time to warm up beforehand). The conditions were less than ideal, but my instrument (and me) held through it, and did just fine. The chorus was very nice and friendly, which always makes performing easier. All in all I was surprised and pleased with how kind everyone was. I got a few compliments from the performers as well, which is always nice.

A couple days ago I had a very New York day and visited a couple city institutions. First on the list was the Central Park Zoo. In general I hate zoos, because they are pretty much prisons for animals. It wasn't surprising, then, when I found out one of the polar bears at the CPZ had to be put on antidepression medication. The zoo itself was lovely. Small, but beautifully landscaped and full of informed, friendly guides. The habitats were cramped, especially for some of the monkeys, and the sea lion tank made me feel sad -- the animals had no where to go except to splash around in a circle all day, which they did over and over, making me dizzy. The penguins looked happy, as did the puffins, but the monkeys looked depressed, as did the polar bears. (Even the one on medication.) The animals were well taken care of, however, and I didn't feel as guilty about visiting as I normally would with a zoo. Especially touching (I'm a total softie when it comes to animals) were the senior citizen animals who had special tanks and were obviously well loved.

Highlights:

*The rainforest room -- amazing birds! There were so many different kinds, and they were all colorful. A few were making nests, which was adorable.
*Baby colobus monkey -- cutest animal ever.
*Red panda
*Snow monkeys, although their exhibit was small and weirdly surrounded by water.

Next on the list was a visit to the store Condomania in the West Village. I think the name is pretty self-explanatory. I went with a classmate as a joke, and it was as entertaining as could be imagined. We did not spend very much time in there, however, as the store was limited to pretty much what it's named for. Apparently it's famous though, and has a loyal following.

Then it was cupcakes at the overrated Magnolia's. The place is famous for their baked sweet stuff, but the staff were catty, self absorbed and generally the type of people I try to avoid. It was self serve for cupcakes, which were tasty. $3.50 for 2 cupcakes, however, is overpriced. Not worth it. It was fun to try, though, and there was no line, which is unusual.

Afterwards I ate my cupcakes in the park, and was hit with a storm of pigeons. One was gimp with a messed up foot so he got a few pieces of the cake. I'm a sucker, what can I say?

improper use of toilets

So, I have a question. Why do women have a hard time aiming straight while sitting on a toilet?

Seriously. You can't go to the bathroom anywhere in this city without having to check out the floor, toilet seat and that little flushing handle first. Then, of course, there's always the lack of paper, which is strange, since god knows enough trees are being cut down each day to allow us Americans to wipe our precious arses with. I think people steal the rolls of toilet paper from bathrooms. Even I'm guilty as charged, but only the rolls from my school -- I figure I pay enough tuition that saving a few dollars each month by hoarding TP from them is no big deal.

Due to the gross factor involved with trying to take a piss in New York, I've decided to put together a few helpful hints on how to Pee In Public Restrooms. This is not to be mixed up with How To Pee In Public, which I've also kind of mastered, but that's a whole other story. My advice, for women anyway, is:

* Don't go to the bathroom at Barnes and Noble bookstores. Maybe I'll get sued for typing this, but they always have dirty bathrooms, long lines and lots of peed on toilet seats. Also, frantic shoppers checking their windblown hair in the greasy mirrors is never a plus. They have sharp elbows and take up a lot of room.

* Don't bother using a toilet at any university or college campus. Apparently educated girls can't pee any straighter than their less intellectual counterparts. Also, toilet paper theft seems to be an issue at these places -- see above in the first paragraph if you have any doubts.

* Bryant Park has a nice bathroom. There's an attendant and everything. Also, the toilets are all self cleaning -- technology at its finest.

* The Port Authority has surprisingly okay bathrooms. I've been there a lot, and I've never been grossed out to the point of wishing I'd never stepped foot into a stall. The cleaning ladies there all speak in Creole or in beautiful languages from Africa, and they all stand around like royal guards armed to the teeth with ammonia sprays and rolls of paper towels.

* Starbucks, like Barnes and Noble, have restrooms open to the public. Alas, they are equally skank, if not more so. Avoid the one by the West 4 Street stop on 6th Ave. I felt dirty just breathing the same air there. Same goes for the one on Astor Place. Mega ew.

Anyway, that's my post. I'm avoiding doing work, can't you tell?

annoyed

Well, I just lost everything I spent half an hour typing, so now I'm pissy and don't feel like going back and recreating the post I planned on publishing. It was all philosophical and focused on India and Nepal, and how excited I was.
But I suppose that's pretty obvious, and blabbing on about it on here doesn't matter. (Man, I am IRRITATED I lost that damn post!)

Anyway, blah blah blah. IndiaNepalIndiablahblah.



Um, yeah. So screw this post. It's a lost cause at this point. Maybe I'll try it again later.

In other news, I'm stressed out as hell. I have a huge performance coming up that I was only informed about last week -- I get 1 rehearsal on the same day as the concert, and it's difficult, hard to count, and a very exposed part. I barely know the piece at all. Joy of joys. I have several papers due soon, an ecology project for one of my classes, and final exams to prepare for. Can anyone say 'being a student sucks?' Thanks, mom and dad, for paying for an education that is going to make me mentally unstable and strung out for the rest of my days.

Oh, and in case you're wondering about the airplane picture -- it was the only thing that remained from my previous post, weirdly enough. It was supposed to go along with the whole 'traveling' theme. Whatever. Peace.

open letter to the people upstairs

Dear People Who Live Upstairs,

Please stop moving furniture and stomping around at 2 in the morning. I understand that you may have been raised by a herd of elephants, but you live in the city now and not in an African game reserve. This means, simply put, that I'd love it if you would take the time to shut the f!!k* up after 11pm.

In other words:

Thanks,

Your Neighbor Who Banged A Broomstick Against The Ceiling Last Night To Say BE QUIET .

(I was unsuccessful in my attempt at creating peace and civil order.)

* Expletive not put in completion in respect for my mother, who does read this thing from time to time.

random things

Random Things:

the girl riding the skateboard down Waverly Place the other day in a designer jacket and jeans.

no one cleans up after the pit bull who goes to the bathroom on my street.

the trash that accumulates around the police station. no one ever bothers to pick it up.

me, giving a lost tourist directions to st. mark's.

schoolkids flirting on the subway.

i feed stray cats when they look hungry.

Soundtrack New York: Goldfrapp

In New York City, you spend a lot of time plugged into headphones. From riding around on the subway to going jogging, music is everywhere. This is in addition to not to mention all the shops and bars that have albums or iPods on shuffle constantly playing.

Every now and then I'm going to post a group/musician I like and include a link.

So, here's my first: oldie but goodie Goldfrapp, who has a new album out. I like their old stuff better -- Felt Mountain was out of this world -- but I have to say that their poppy synthy new sound is pretty tasty too, when it comes to party prep and the like.

Good to listen to during: Party/club prep, subway rides on weekends/late nights, before dates.

Favorite Album: Felt Mountain

Love, love Goldiefrappers. Maybe you will too. Maybe not.

http://www.goldfrapp.co.uk/

a community garden in alphabet city

"No sticks and stones."

The woman was sitting on a bench, plump rear firmly pressed into her seat. A weeping willow draped over her head, and for a minute she reminded me of a garden gnome. Squat, fat, and tucked away under the shadow of a tree.

When we looked at her with confused expressions, she added "... in the water."

Assuming she was a little nuts, me and my friend just nodded our heads and turned our backs on her. "What the hell was she talking about?" I asked my friend through gritted teeth. He kind of shrugged and started to laugh. "Who knows, but I'm trying really hard not to be a smart ass." While I giggled, my friend called out over his shoulder, "We won't throw anything into the water!"

The two of us carefully picked our way through the garden, staring around us in amazement. I found out the 'water' the gnome was referring to was a dingy fish pond, complete with dead fish at the bottom, gleaming gold and orange. Flowers brimmed against the sides of the pond, rimmed with bricks taken from somewhere in the city.

Mardi gras beads hung from bushes and wooden stakes, sparkling purple in the sun. Dirt -- actual country dirt, moist and smelling like rain -- lined the curving path around the garden, meandering around flowers and city trees. Glass spikes of different shapes and sizes lined the chain link fence around the perimeter of this patch of green, little dagger teeth with artistic bite.

I felt like I was Alice and had just dropped into Wonderland. This park, I thought, would be a wonderful place for a tea party. Even the Cheshire cat was there, big, fat and orange, rolling around in a patch of sunlight. When the garden gnome informed me that he was tame and "very friendly," I strolled over and the cat immediately began to purr and stretch out, rubbing his head against my hands.

"That," I said, "is one helluva friendly cat."

My friend and I tossed around a few jokes about it being on Ecstasy. It was impossible not to, since he was rolling around like he had just discovered how wonderful life is stretched out in the middle of a sunbeam.

After we left the neighborhood's oasis (only the size of a corner lot), my friend and I wondered aloud about the place. Who knew that Avenue C would have so many community gardens along it? The two of us passed park after park, strange fairylands tucked into the nooks between concrete apartment buildings.

Some were rundown, while others bloomed in riots of strange colors and sights. Most were padlocked, unfriendly and clearly unwelcoming. One parcel of trees had a rusty saw leaning against the fence around it, a clear reminder not to try to climb over onto the property.

It was my first real venture into Alphabet City. I had always heard how sketchy the place was, how people got mugged there, how far away it is from the subway. Which, I suppose, is all true. It is a long walk from the nearest subway stop, and I can agree that Avenue D is not the most inspiring place in terms of feeling safe. But ... Avenue C. Avenue B. Avenue A. I liked the trio of streets, the funny buildings dotting their length.

It bothered me though, the way all these beautiful gardens were blocked off from the world. I had the luck of getting into the only one that was open to strangers, and it was a wonderful experience. The three Avenues all seemed gentrified, and the people strolling along them did not look like they were going to go hungry anytime soon. Kids on expensive bikes roamed around, parents in tow. 'Bohemians' pretending to be cutting edge and avant garde were everywhere, all white skinned with their lifestyles intact thanks to daddy's trust fund.

Avenue D, I decided, would benefit from some of these places. There things changed suddenly, and me and my friend stuck out like a sore thumb with our pale faces and the digital camera we were carrying around. Here, instead of parks, there were basketball courts. Instead of expensive apartments there were tall, Soviet style buildings. These monoliths are what every public housing project in the city probably aspires to be. Kids on Avenue D seem older, grittier, wiser than their Avenue C neighbors, and none of the parents I saw could have been much older than 24 or 25.

New York City is, without a doubt, an amazing place. In the span of a minute, you can walk from the most beautiful streets to areas of poverty and unhappiness. I suppose you get used to it after a time. I know that I already am. But, (and this is a big one) -- but, I think it's a little frightening, this acceptance of poverty in the midst of wealth. It doesn't seem fair to hoard beauty for yourself, while denying your neighbors a chance to have it as well.