afterwards i got drunk and said i'll run it next year.

i watched the marathon this weekend with some friends in long island city. i was really surprised at how much fun i had shouting encouragement to all the runners. who knew that being nice to strangers was so rewarding? lots of the runners wrote their names on their shirts so you could call out to specific people.
"GO CAROLYNE!" i yell.
carolyne turns her head while running and replies, "it's caroline... but thank you anyways."

and that really irks me.
first of all, just say thank you or ignore me completely.
second, if you want people to call you caroline don't spell your name with a "y".

i was recently reading...

some blog, and i came across this.

There’s a moment upon entering an elevator where your life is revealed to you.

It begins when your elevator begins to descend. You either silently hope that no one else gets on, or you welcome the chaos of a new person. When someone does actually enter, you have one of two reactions: you are welcoming them into your home, or they are a German soldier and you are French. This moment is a reasonable barometer of your life.

and i thought, "oh my god! thats me! i'm the french, i hate riding elevators with people i'm closing off my life to others and i will always be alone!"
and i was kind of depressed about this all day.
and then i thought, "wait a minute. that's bullshit. you can't just make up some pithy statement about elevators; that they're a judgement about your life and that you are either open to possibilities or shut to the world."
it's not that easy. yes i should be more open to people and life... but that's a bad analogy and life isn't black or white... also after reading over that quote a second time i've decided it's poorly written.

on my way to san francisco

i took my vacation in san francisco this past week, visiting my friend amy and my brother luke. in the spirit of adventure (and my budget) i took the subway to the airport.
as i was getting off the train and lugging my suitcase to the air-tran a very nice latina women asked me where i was going. when i told her i was headed to san francisco she replied in a very friendly manner, "oh! you a homo! i thought going to the beach to put your feet in the water!"

i'm kind of embarrassed to say this outloud

...but i'm addicted to the books that "trueblood" is based on, the sookie stackhouse series by charlaine harris. now don't get me wrong... i very much enjoy them (it's a series of nine so far and i'm on the ninth book... i started the first about two months ago)but there are some things about them that make me cringe and hide the cover when reading on the subway.
the main character is a 25 year old woman, but it's very clear and uncomfortable that the writer is a fat old white lady because of the following reasons.
1. the way she describes the young characters clothing... LOTS of pantsuits, slacks, shells, and hose... kneehighs. none of these things would be worn by someone who is 25.
2. the descriptions of attractive men... listen, i find big broad shouldered men attractive to... but the way she writes it feels like she's a step away from just saying he looked like patrick swayze or mel gibson.
3. the sex scenes. are kind of graphic. and whenever i get to a particularly juicy one i can't help but flip to the back and look at the picture on the jacket...



and think she wrote this.

this all came to a head when my friend gina was over the other day and picked up one the books i'd left laying around. after reading the synopsis and she embarassingly asked what "panther brethren" were.
"a community of werepanthers", i answered... and then caught myself at how silly it sounded. but seriously they are really enjoyable.

but when you think about it, it is kind of true

the other morning i got coffee from a different shop than my usual. not surprisingly there was one of your run of the mill new york crazies inside. he was about 50 and wearing dirty sweatpants with a sensible amount of gold jewelry. it looked like he had finished his coffee hours earlier, but decided to stick around to hand out delightful bon mots and advice to the ladies who worked there.
"you women", he says at the top of his lungs. "you women, spending so much money. spending all your money on makeup and tampons."
"that's right", responds the lady at the counter. "but, we do it all for you men."

best new game ever

so i'm pretty sure that after the naming of her twin girls everybody knows that sarah jessica parker is not just kooky when it comes to fashion.
marion loretta elwell and tabitha hodge are quite possibly the worst names ever given. they are definately names to grow into... i'm sure by the time they reach 65 they will finally feel comfortable with them. my friend marica and were joking around and she said, "she might as well have named them burlap and pickn'save".
i was telling this to my roommate jermaine and we just kept the ball rolling to invent my new favorite game, called "hi, i'm sarah jessica parker."

instructions:

step 1.
say "hi, i'm sarah jessica parker. have you met my new babies?"

step 2.
insert two ridiculous and hideous baby names/objects that would be owned by old women. to give you some inspiration here are some of our best... shoestring and straw hat, fried chicken and church clothes, price is right and chin hair.

i for one would sooner name a child toothpick before loretta... even if it is just a middle name.

as of late...

i've been obsessed with two things that come out of bodies.

1. poop. but more specifically its regularity within my system.
2. babies. and how cute they are. i probably think about babies about as much as martha stewart's daughter does... and that's a lot.

also, i've been making lot's of list with just two items... which isn't really a list, it's kind of just two things.

the other day...

while in duane reade i followed this guy around. and i've been thinking about it alot... probably more than i should.

I first started following him because i heard his english accent. and then it was because i saw that he had running shorts and nice legs. but i kept up following because he was speaking really loudly and his conversation was a bit too intimate to having in the snack food aisle.

long story short.
he's just moved here from london with his girlfriend/wife on her prompting. and he's not liking the change. he HATES his new apartment. (too dark and the kitchen's too small)... get used to it i say, it's the east village.
and then here's the kicker. as i follow him to the checkout he says, "is it the best decision we've ever made? no. it's not screaming in my face that it is". isn't that a really horrible and great thing to say all at once.

so many things.
who was he talking to? do you think his old lady knew how he really felt?


so really just two questions.

when on the subway one should not...

1. eat curry.
2. smell like urine.

we've been over this new york... why do you constantly disappoint? let's get it together.

new passive aggressive activity that passes time

i'm growing out my hair right now. and it's become one of my favorite topics of conversation... much to the annoyance of everyone else. two of my favorite talking points.

1. i've stopped using shampoo. truly i have. i just wash thoroughly with hot water and then use a little product. i enjoy telling people this because it's kind of gross and fascinating. now i'm like one of those people that stops wearing deodorant and starts using crystals.

2. i like complaining about my hair and how it's too wild and too big. i especially like telling this to my friends who are balding. for emphasis say it in a voice that says, "boy are you lucky."

open mouth, insert foot

if there's one thing i'm good at it's people watching. if there's a second thing i'm good at, it's making snide comments regarding the people i'm watching. and if there is a third thing i'm good at it's sticking my foot in my mouth.
while out to dinner on friday night with my roommate jermaine and some friends of his, i noticed a man a chinstrap beard.
(while i do enjoy facial hair... i'm not a fan of novelty beards, moustaches, or sideburns.)
as i was quipping that chinstrap beards are for fat people who want to give the world the illusion that they do infact own a chin and or jawline, i realized that jermaine's good friend was also an owner of the afformentioned whiskers.
i stopped midsentance, looked around, and decided that i needed another beer... he pretended not to notice.

more about the homeless

this morning a homeless guy was begging on the subway.
"anyone spare a quarter? anyone spare some change? i am truly amazing. been off of drugs and drink for a year. truly amazing."
i doubt that he is truly amazing... the man selling batteries? now that is truly amazing.

too much

this evening after a fun night out, i shared a cab home with my friend juliet... who had made a really tasty cucumber prosecco drink... and enjoyed a few of them.
she asked, "did i make a fool of myself? i think i was too drunk. i am too drunk. are you sure i didn't make a fool of myself. i think i did."
we replied, "oh no, julie you were fine. eveyone had a good time and had a lot to drink."
the cabdriver says, "yes. you are making a fool of yourself."
"thank you, marzak." says juliet, reading his cabbie license. "thank you for telling the truth.

homeless people talk to me a lot

yesterday morning i rolled out of bed early and ran out to do some errands. the first person i saw was a homeless man.
it's a scientific fact that homeless/crazy people are preternaturally drawn to speaking to me. normally i pretend that they're not there and hold my breath until they pass.
didn't work this time. as soon as he sees me he says, "hey son, pick up your head. it's not that bad! you sexy!"

getting skinny and calmer

i wanted to do something that pushed me out of my comfort zone, so about 2 weeks ago i signed up to do the 30 bikram challenge. bikram yoga is the one where you do it in a room heated up to 105 degrees.
i imagine with the heat it's exactly like doing yoga in india. but without getting dysentery.

am i the only one...

that feels discontent at other peoples success? a lot of discontent. i'm pretty sure more than most people.
even when it's people i don't really know, acquaintances i would only nod to on the street, young famous people, young famous people who win critical acclaim and appear on awards shows.

no she's not

funniest thing ever.

because i'm neurotic... and i could possibly smell bad.

i had a match.com date tonight scheduled for 10:15 after i got out of work. i arrived a little early, and waited. and played on my phone. and waited. and then it was 10:40. and my phone died. and i decided to leave because the waiting had made me feel anxious, and i started to think maybe he wasn't coming.
i wonder whether i was stood up, or maybe he came after i left and i stood him up.
on the way to the subway, a homeless woman asked me for money. after i ignored her she followed me for two blocks muttering, "you stank, you stank".

overheard at work

"and i remember that was the year women first wore pants," said a little old lady sitting on table 87.

inspired by amy's a few weeks back... a college story

when i was a freshman in college, i took a required class called "singing for actors". this was taught by a woman named claudia, who in addition to teaching our music class was a pyscho-analist. she was a sharp tongued women with a hairstyle akin to jay leno's, she'd recently dropped a few lb's due to a strong commitment to weight watcher's meetings.
she was full of pearls of wisdom like, "always wear black and a splash of colour." claudia mainly lived in new york, but took the train into boston to teach for a few days each week. i imagined new york to be a city full of people wearing black suits, black turtlenecks, black jeans... all with a red scarf, a green shoe, or a fluorescent pink undershirt peeking through.
the class would begin with a group warm-up and then move onto everyone singing solo in front of the class. each solo would end with a critique from claudia... often with an insult. either outright or veiled.
once a friend sang "razzle dazzle" from "chicago". before he was even finished she made a big hit-the-road-jack gesture and said, "well you didn't razzle dazzle me, sit down!" another time a friend had to leave class early for a doctor's appointment. "good bye amy, i hate you," she said.
it seemed horrific at the time, but thinking about it now she was basically a comic genius.

some commercials i really like

my favorite part is that his eye falls off...
at work i can't stop sneaking up beside people and whispering, "you can call me nanerpuss" in their ear.


and for some strange reason i find this commercial strangely compelling... it must be all the twirling colours... but also i like estelle's voice.
sidenote: i really love her "american boy" video. mostly because kanye west wears this really awesome fur coat in it.

go go my gentle scorpio

i love when people give their zodiac sign as a valid excuse or reason for doing something... "well i'm a leo, so you know..."

more about me and my birthday, and some complaining

when you're a smaller than average boy growing up in florida during the early '90's, chances are that you enjoy having your birthday fall on valentines day.
it's a minor holiday, and doesn't attract too much attention away from you. instead you get exclamations of how cute you are, "you are just like a little cupid." as a theatrical child in need of approval, this satisfies.
as an adult most of the comments come from either a. ladies working at the dmv, b. ladies working at the liquor store, c. ladies who love astrology, or d. any combination of the above. it's not quite as amusing.

just like in a movie.

i was going down the stairs to the subway this morning, when a woman who was coming up turned to me and said:

"matthew, there is a gift for you. i don't know what it is."

and then she kept walking. i was so startled i didn't do anything... but i'm pretty sure something awesome is going to happen today... either that or she was talking on a bluetooth?

i'm turning 27 soon

remember when you were little, and you would take those mini-ritz-peanut-butter-sandwich-thingies and dip them in chocolate with your grandma marge, and you would lay them on wax paper to dry, and you called them home-made-candies?
and you asked grandma marge how old she was, and she said 29.
and you knew she was joking... but it still seemed very very old.
doesn't seem so old anymore.

so i deal a lot with assholes

...and i have a hard time not shooting it back at them. when an old woman shakes a finger in my face, i have no fear in shaking mine back in hers. when a guest at the door tells me that the concierge at the ritz carlton made them a reservation, i have no problem in calling him out as a liar... especially if there is a crowd, and especially if you can see the wife is embarrassed about what an asshole her husband is.
yesterday i got called over to a table so this guy could complain that we only had "sweet n' low" for his coffee. when i pointed out the sugar, he replied in a loud voice that i had just insulted him because he is diabetic. i wanted to ask him how that tiramisu was... but i didn't, instead i apologized. he then told me that "sweet 'n low" was cheap and asked if i wanted to appear cheap.
"i never appear cheap," i tell him and walk away.
he was dining alone.

sometimes i feel just like angelina jolie

...in that i really want a baby. right now. i also want a jamaican nanny.
in other news, i'm learning to knit and made a baby hat for my friend glenna's soon to arrive baby. i'm not gonna lie, i'm very talented.

r.i.p.

how wonderful is this video?  i used to see this guy all the time and he cracked me up.  he's so very dick van dyke-oliver twist.

also i'm jealous of his outfit.

it's known that i'm a people watcher

...and by people watching, i mean i will stare a stranger down... to the death.
this morning on my way to work, i was particularly fascinated by this smart-jewishy-looking guy who was wearing MIT sweatpants and consistently twitching in a tourette's kind of way.
suddenly the train stopped between stations.
oh shit. i'm going to be late for work.
i imagined being stuck here on the subway.
and not being able to get out.
until the autistic-math-genius-twitcher used his algebraic-savant-skills and came up with an unlikely, but successful escape plan.
i felt better about being on the train.
then it started moving and i was only 5 minutes late to work this morning.

for someone who is so fastidious about dress

... i'm rather messy about about keeping my spaces neat and tidy. i would like to say that i'm only messy, not dirty, not leaving used plates on tabletops or in the sink for days on end... but that wouldn't be true.
i recently had over a friend who had never been to my apartment before.
"why is there a robot lying on the floor?"
"oh that's not a robot", i told him. "that's a fan... that broke... and fell over. sometime between thanksgiving and christmas. i just haven't gotten around to picking it up and throwing it away."
i think that's one of the reasons that i don't like christmas decorations. if i had put them up, they would still be up by march.

this is a little belated

for chistmas i had dinner with my little brother at my friend juliet's apartment. also there were her sister and her mother.
her mom was, as they say "a hoot". we were discussing the most important and relevant current events, when the subject of angelina jolie came up.
"well as far as i'm concerned all of their children are illegitimate." said mrs. totten with a straight face.

mickey rourke

... is kind of nutjob. and that's an understatement. i mean first he was hot with 9 1/2 weeks, and then he was hot with all that boxing stuff. then he was not hot with all the boxing injuries, and then he was not hot with that bad face lift.
now he dresses like if william shatner was a clown... and carried an elderly chihuahua with him.
but i do want to see the wrestler.

one of the things i do like

... is "everybody loves raymond". i'm probably one of the only "young people" in the world that actually likes this show. everything about it is enjoyable to me except for the fact that in real life patricia heaton is a republican.
she voted for mccain.
like my dad.
i guess next time i see her i'll just have to avoid that as a topic of conversation.