trinityvixen: (got nothing)

The call of the wild. )

Some of this is undoubtedly related to my anxiety/euphoria over leaving my job, too, I realize that. I'll soon be really free to do whatever the fuck I want, and I'm straining at the bit to get there. I have a bucket list for leaving New York. I keep adding to it, but 9 out of 10 additions are part of the Outside! All the time! mania. To whit:
1) Go to the Highline Park.
2) Ride bike over the Brooklyn Bridge (presumably to Brooklyn where there may be still more paths to take).
2A) If not a total chicken-shit, bike over the GWB, with its much scarier low rails and traffic.
3) Take the Staten Island Ferry.
4) Go to the Cloisters.
5) Walk the length and/or circumference of Manhattan (I did most of this one day with [livejournal.com profile] fairest and [livejournal.com profile] cagexxx, and we covered a good chunk from 116th to Canal Street).
6) Go to the Brooklyn flea (ew, so much Brooklyn stuff).

These are the additions that I made recently. The list includes going to the Guggenheim (never been) and a massive three-day-at-last binge where I tour the entire Metropolitan Museum of Art. I keep going to the Met for exhibits and then fucking around visiting this or that of my favorite places (arms and armor; the Egyptian Wing; the rooms of furniture). I want to spend like three-to-four hours a day, making sure to take my time and not to get too burnt out with museum fatigue, over a few days, to really take it all in. New York and DC are the places to go for museums, and I need to absorb some of that before I peace out of here for a substantial portion of the next four years (at least).

Anything else I should consider? Let me know!
trinityvixen: (Default)
This morning, I got passed by a hotdogging cyclist headed northbound on St. Nicholas as I'm turning onto it. I could tell he was hotdogger because he was speeding through intersections when he didn't have the light; he was also wearing a t-shirt and shorts, while I am still cold at work, an hour later, despite wearing many layers this morning. When he gets to the police station at 122nd, however, he stops cold while I breeze through. Ten seconds later, he catches up and warns me not to be so cavalier around that area as he got a ticket there for running a red. He then runs the red at 125th street, an intersection I hesitate to cross when I do have the light. So, cautious, but not repentant.

In other news, my babiest baby sister got into a dental school! She's very excited, obviously, and it was one that she was pretty much in love with, so I think the application/interview process may be over, far as she's concerned. I'm very proud of her! Of course, the bar is now set very high for me to get into school, so I'm also a little mad at her :)
trinityvixen: (daria)
I have never had any interaction with the court system outside of jury duty and traffic court, but from my sample of n=2, I have decided that court is a place where the justice system fucks with you because it can.


Case in point: my trip upstate to get a plea bargain on my speeding ticket. Whine. )
I'm not thrilled about the $235 fine, but I really can't complain about the deal I got. I copped to 75 when I got pulled over, and I'd have even accepted 20 mph over, so long as I avoided that bullshit "driver reassesment penalty." The only way to have done better was to get it dismissed, and I'm not going to haul my ass back there to protest a ticket that they absolutely had me dead-to-rights on speeding on the off chance Officer Whoshisface wouldn't show up to Bumblefuck to testify. It's done, and I'll see about maybe taking defensive driving to knock off the points. I lucked out in that my quarterly update on my insurance arrived the mail before I left, and I checked it to see that I can get up to two sub-15 mph over speeding tickets without seeing a change in my rates. I'll double-check that against what they say my rates are as bills arrive, of course, but at least I don't have that headache.



My Dad called me to see how it went, which was sweet. He's heard precisely zip from his lawyer since retaining him. It's possible he hasn't had to go to court yet, but I know it's not going to be reduced to a parking ticket, like this guy seems to think he can manage. So when he gets a ticket for whatever, he'll have to pay the fees and what not. He'll probably hear from the lawyer then. We'll see who had the better plan when that happens.
trinityvixen: (Default)
Tolls to go up for travel across the Hudson.

I am all for making driving a little more expensive to convert drivers into mass-transiters, but given the sorry state of mass transit--and the fact that mass transit would become more expensive, too--this is a shit plan. I don't know what to think about this but that milking commuters has never been shown to make for happy commuters or even to support the transit authorities. I mean, we raised the cost of the Metrocard and the MTA was still crying poverty.

The only thing, far as I know, to effectively fund and fund improvements to our public transit systems are public funds. If we could get past this "no new taxes ever!" hew and cry, we might actually be able to fund collectively--and completely--what punitive taxes on individual commuters won't ever be able to.
trinityvixen: (win!)
So, last night, before we went to see War Horse, my mother and I went to get food. We hadn't really made plans, but we stopped in at PJ Clarke's and managed to get seats at the full-service bar. Superlative burgers, by the by, if you're looking for a place. Our incredibly charming Irish (do the Irish come in other flavors?) bartender was very attentive and helped us pick out two desserts we didn't need. He also has astonishingly good hearing for somebody working in a bar. I would think working in a bar that noisy would make your hearing worse. I was sitting next to my mother when I told her I wouldn't tell my father that she was flirting with the bartender, and she didn't hardly hear me, but the bartender promised he wouldn't tell either. Really nice guy.

Also really nice guy: the softball team captain who came in just as we were finishing up. He bought my mother and I another round of drinks (we each had one 'cause we were at the bar, and, naturally, that's what one does at a bar) as an apology for the way his entire team swarmed around us, passing perilously full glasses of beer around. Our bartender, who my mother, per her usual, tipped thirty-forty percent, even topped us up a third time, which I had to pass on to the softball captain because there was no way I was drinking that much more booze right before the show. (I didn't want to be drunk, I was still totally full from dessert, and I didn't want to have to pee.) My mother being, well, my mother, she immediately made great conversation with the softball captain, and she's probably looking up his softball league as I speak.

All in all, it was a pretty magical night out on the town. Can't say enough good things about War Horse and I had a fabulous dining experience. Perfection.

D'aww

Feb. 16th, 2011 03:48 pm
trinityvixen: (blogging from work)
There's this lab supplier that must have come by three times this new year alone already with product info for us.  He just came by again. We chatted, after he gave me the whole sales spiel, about the various ways to make yourself better after being sick. (Because I was coughing a lot.) I told him I'm taking a ton of vitamin C--I take it most days because I take iron with it, and my tea of choice is a honey-citron. We said farewell, fondly, and I doled out the free samples to others.

He just came back with Dayquil for me. Now I have to order from his company, which is his intention, surely, but d'aaawwwwww.
trinityvixen: (cancer)
I don't hate the people I hung out with all weekend. By and large, they were awesome. I got completely blotto Friday night trying to keep up with my former coworker, who insisted we do one round of dirty martinis and is it any surprise that I then threw up all over my room? Saturday was spent cleaning, recovering, and baking, that last round being done with my new coworkers at my boss' rather awesome apartment. Sunday, I went to two parties, a cookie-decorating one at Ms. Beans' place, which was fun. (I made superhero gingerbread men/women. Not as well as [livejournal.com profile] jethrien  made them, but I tried!) Then it was off to Queens to [livejournal.com profile] kent_allard_jr 's frankly AMAZING place for some Christmas-themed hanging out, which included some communist Christmas cartoons but not the new Thor trailer (which I was too afraid to watch with company, lest I burst out crying 'cause I'm gonna see it anyway, even if it sucks).

I loved hanging out with all the people I hung out with on those days. It was the bus ride home from Queens I could have done without. The M60 was nightmarishly crowded, and I was desperately trying to keep cookies from being smooshed any further. At one point, two obese guys got on and started to push through to the back. They squeezed in the chatty guy (who had, apparently, been flirting with me, according to my roommates, not that I ever know these things), then when they got to me started to laugh about how they couldn't "grind up" against me as easily, lest...I don't know. The vague "Ooh, better not bump her too hard or she'll get offended" threat was made.

And then one of the purposefully thrust his crotch out to push it up against my ass before actually pushing by (and grinding one of my pelvic bones into the metal support in the process). I felt so grossed out and I ended up getting slightly injured. God, I fucking hate people. That shit is NOT. COOL.
trinityvixen: (question)
I'm heading out to Reno for my brother's "graduation" (he has completed his fellowship and is getting a party or something), and I need to get to JFK. I was planning on taking the A down to the AirTran, like I've done before.

But every time I went to any site to map out the time it would take (MTA Trip Planner, Google, etc.) they keep wanting me to transfer to the E and go to Jamaica Station instead. Is there really any goddamned difference in time? Why do they keep sending me that way if there isn't?
trinityvixen: (blogging from work)
Ugh, I walked out of a test puzzling over this one question that I could not, for the life of me, figure out why it was so bass-ackwards. Immediately figured out what he probably meant as soon as I was three steps outside the door. It's a stupid mistake mostly due to stupid wording. Because I don't want to be "one of those" students (i.e. the post-bacc who ruins the curve for everyone), I'm fully prepared to accept that I should just eat the 5 points for that one. The test had substantial extra credit, which I'm sure I got right, seeing as it was one I'd done from the textbook while studying. It will more than offset the stupidity of that one question...unless I got a lot else wrong.

Great, now I'm fretting. The question, by the by, for people who know statistics, Curse you, random variables!!! )

Need to stop worrying and/or kicking myself over this. Compared to the panic-attack I was having over the material that had previously seemed impenetrable prior to studying, a 5-point goof is too stupid to worry about... Nope, still kicking myself. Stupid, stupid, stupid....

Onto sillier things! My excellent friend H tweeted this picture, and I had to share with LJ peeps who might not see it on Twitter. The text of her tweet was "Sean Hannity's book where it belongs." (Only her Tweets never have capitalization, and I'm beginning to think she's an eagle**.) I assumed it would link to something typical, like when people reshelve the Bible in the fiction section. Oh no. It was so much better!


**h/t [livejournal.com profile] glvalentine for this reference. I find the ALOT jokes funny, but the image of an eagle typing cracks me up. I think it's because Harvey Birdman's eagle was his secretary.
trinityvixen: (ivy what?)
On my way to the library before work today, a woman walking with a cane came across the intersection perpendicularly to where I was waiting to cross. She looked like she was saying something to me, so I popped out a headphone to be sure. She seemed to have stopped speaking, almost seemed to be waiting for my response, so I said something noncommital. I asked if she was cold, ha ha, it's cold outside, etc. (Actually, though it might just be that I've traded jeans for corduroys, it feels almost balmy out.)

Her response: "I don't feel cold because I've had so many strokes."

o.O???

Earphone went right back in and I all but ran across the street. What was I thinking? NEVER ENGAGE!

This is something dream-me took to an illogical extreme in my mid-morning dream. It features Christopher Lee but was not technically a nightmare. Who knew that was possible? )
trinityvixen: (balls)
So, I got out of class this morning and went to stand by the bus stop to wait for the uptown shuttle. There was a trio handing out free sodas. By "free," they meant both that it cost nothing and was "free" of chemicals and bad stuff. Stuff that, you know, I kind of depend on in my soda. Caffeine is pretty much the whole reason I drink soda. (That, and I've since become addicted to it. So, a little from column A and a little from column B.)

The brand is Snow. The website will give you the gist of their marketing strategy--all natural ingredients! No fake sugar! No preservatives! Vitamins! Green tea extract*! Part of our sales income goes to stopping global warming!

I managed to get two of their three flavors--Pure Cola and Lemon Lime. I figured "generic cola" and "Sprite-like" were probably safer bets than a start-up company's attempt to make something called "Cranberry Pomraz." The fact that they're messing with three fruits there (as opposed to Lemon Lime's two) completely ruled it out as a choice.

I should have left all of them alone. Pure Cola tastes like nothing until you swallow it. It has this abusive aftertaste of shitty beer and sheet metal, as if you licked PBR off a rusty spoon. Lemon Lime is only marginally less awful. It's like they found a way to put the horrible false-citrus taste of a powdered vitamin C supplement into liquid form. It reminds me of the taste of Airborne.

So, yeah, I can totally not recommend free street soda. Unless you already know the brand--any free Coke/Pepsi product I've gotten that I've already tried has never hurt me--stay the F away from it. I can't believe I didn't learn my lesson after the debacle of the Diet Dark Cherry-Vanilla Dr. Pepper. Blech.
trinityvixen: (shoes)
We're still going to FIT's "Gothic Fashion" exhibit this weekend!

The museum is at 27th and 7th ave. There is a breezeway over 27th St. that says "Fashion Institute of Technology" and on the SW corner (I believe) a bronze statue with a hoop and a ball. (It's the only statue, but I thought I would be specific.) Let's meet there by 11 am and then we can figure out where the entrance is when we're all together. Please be on time, okay? It's going to be cold. (If it gets too bad, we might relocate inside the doors next to the statue.)

See everyone on Saturday!

(Thanks [livejournal.com profile] jendaby for poking me. I was going to post again, but I'd forgotten.)
trinityvixen: (shoes)
So, most people seemed to be free on January 24th. No longer! You who replied to my last posting about the FIT "Gothic Fashion" exhibit are now BUSY. Because that's when we're going to go.

The museum is open at 10. Do we want to shoot for meeting up at 11 am? Not too early out of bed, plus we spend two hours or so looking at fabulous clothes and then maybe go grab a bite to eat. The musuem is on Seventh Ave at 27th street, and the link above has travel suggestions if you need 'em.

See you fabulous bitches very soon.

ETA: Did I mention that this is FREE?
trinityvixen: (shoes)
I went to see the Met's Superheroes exhibit on Saturday, and I was completely off my nut about it. I bought the exhibit book for $30. I had to talk myself out of getting the $50 hardcover version just 'cause I wanted it to last forever. Seriously, you cannot surround me with fabulous couture AND the Mark II Iron Man suit, the new Bat-suit, and the skin-tight vinyl of my very favorite and first lesbian crush. I mean, Catwoman's costume (from Batman Returns, the only Catwoman that matters) WAS RIGHT THERE. I wish the stupid book of the exhibit displayed that instead of a production still. There's nothing quite like it. It's just...sex.

It's also something of a disillusionment to see up close. It just proves the magic of movies and comics that I never noticed that the stitches that supposedly keep the entire thing together are really just pasted on patches with lacing. It's hard to describe, so everyone should go see it. (If they'd let me take pictures, I'd never have left.) Things that stayed fucking impressive on closer look? Definitely the Mark II armor and the new Bat-suit and Mystique's scales, which they put on a dummy and painted it and its eyes so it was the only dummy in the place to have any life to it.

I mean, there's this goddamned AMAZING Thierry Mugler dress that is supposed to be a take off on the mutant body, and it is devastating to see. (Best pic of the Catwoman costume, too.) BUT LOOK AT THE MODEL AND HOW SHE IS PAINTED AND HOW SHE MOVES!!! (Dress in question appears at 2:22) [livejournal.com profile] viridian already has dibs on this one, but wow. If I had no waist at all, I'd be all over that shit. I'd hit it like a freight train.

I need to figure out how to copy pictures from my book without destroying it so I can babble some more about these clothes. In the next installment of Trinity Goes 'Splode Theater, I will talk about all eighty pairs of highly impossible shoes THAT I MUST HAVE.
trinityvixen: (cancer)
Helping my friend Heddy pack up her things to move today went smooth as anything. She had boxes, tape, even bubble wrap and markers all ready to go and we were done in about three hours with plenty of time to munch on snacks here and there. Best move I've ever assisted.

Until I got on the A train and less than three stops out from Hoyt-Schmerhorn, some fucking idiot decided to open an orange soda all over one bench. It sprayed easily ten feet from the guy who didn't look half as drenched as I ended up being. I had a little paper towel piece that I managed to dry off some with, but, being a moron myself, I offered it to the lady next to me who didn't give it back for me to finish. Hurray for an hour's ride up town with wet and then sticky arms, face, shirt, and pants!!!

I LOVE THIS STINKING CITY, LET ME TELL YOU.

I'm going to shower and make myself booze and probably kill things on the ecks-Box until I don't feel like destroying real stuff.
trinityvixen: (dude)
U2:3D is probably the only concert movie I will ever watch. I see no point in watching a concert because the fun of a concert is being there. Thus, with the 3D and IMAX and such, it was as good as being there. Nay, better! I was actually at one of the concerts on the Vertigo tour, and my seats weren't half as close as they put you with the 3D. Could've had more hits from the song list, seeing as the energy was crazy when they got into their really huge songs, like (OMG SPOILERS!) "Sunday Bloody Sunday." Also, I think we ruined "Pride" for [livejournal.com profile] viridian by mentioning that Bono's lack of pronunciation on the line "they could take your pride" makes it come out "they could not take your pie." NO ONE TAKES BONO'S PIE! Yep, now none of y'all reading this will ever be moved by that song again neither. And you'll never quite cozy up to "One" the same way after realizing that Bono keeps flubbing the line in that so that it goes "did you come here to play Jesus to the lepers in your bed" (instead of "head" on that last). Ewww, no.

Otherwise, good time had by all. Especially Bono. He's totally gay for everyone in the band, notably the Edge (whom he worships and humps in the film a bit) and the base player (who he flat out kisses--I LOVE EUROPEANS!). Speaking of The Gay: I apologize to the crowd out with me last night; despite my repeated insistence that either the drummer or the bassist is gay, neither is (in fact, one has rather public engagements with models and the other has a live-in girlfriend of twenty years and three kids--which just goes to show how far out of my ass I end up pulling this BS). I would now like to amend my statements to point out that I believe that, in the book of U2 photos I talked about, the point of being gay might have, in fact, been attributed to one of their fathers (there was a picture of each member and his dad). That's my brand new bullshit theory (based off a quick google search with the words "U2" and "gay" that suggest the song "One" is about a gay son coming out to his dad). Yep. Thanks for coming, [livejournal.com profile] hslayer, [livejournal.com profile] viridian, [livejournal.com profile] earthrise, [livejournal.com profile] kent_allard_jr and new fun pals [livejournal.com profile] tirtzah and [livejournal.com profile] mclittlebitch (who got special extra awesome points for being THE ONLY OTHER HUMAN BEING ON THE PLANET I HAVE EVER MET WHO HAS SEEN ANIMALYMPICS)!!!

Alas, the evening should be marred by the ride back uptown. A group of obviously tipsy partiers got on with a pizza they were splitting. The two girls just had to squeeze over to my side (despite there being plenty of pole space up and down the car), and because they were obviously not entirely aware of their setting, they kept forgetting that I was behind them, backed against the doors on the other side. I didn't move. I didn't jab out my magazine or anything to get some personal space, I just held still and let the one in front of me fall back onto it and get jabbed. She might have tossed me a dirty look when she checked over her shoulder, but eventually she backed off (when the edge got her good between the shoulders ::EVIL GLEE::). It didn't last too long though. Did I mention they were tipsy?

If only that had been the worst of it. Alas, not. At 96th, a homeless fellow in a wheelchair tapped me on the shoulder so I would stand aside for him to get off. Coming upon 137th, some loud argument began to escalate into shouting at the other end of the car. A bunch of 20ish white guys were standing and yelling at some foreign guy sitting. The specifics eluded me since I missed the start of the fight, but I gather they took umbrage to some or another of the foreign man's behavior vis a vis the wheelchair-bound man. Yelling progressed to shoving and various folk on both sides stepping between the four or five white boys who lunged for the foreigner. This was after the lead white boy thug said the wheelchair man (who must have had a sign about being a veteran) was "defending our country" and the foreigner made the mistake of venting his opinion that such people are "murderers." White boys showed their intelligence by screaming the guy was "a fucking Iraqi" and still trying to dodge around poles and arms to get at the guy. Just lovely behavior all around.

I almost got off a stop early to escape this shithead brigade. For the first time in my life, I wondered what might happen if just one of those people were armed. I literally don't even think about people having weapons on their person--not even pepper spray or anything defensive like that--but I guess the relation of the fight being over war (and ethical questions about it) made me wonder. It was, needless to say, very unnerving. I had a very clear sense of the panic I would feel if the fight fell out for real (as opposed to the charged stomping and frantic grabbing and pushing) and a gun, say, were involved. I sped away from the car like I, myself, had been fired from it. Gotta be crazy to love this city some times.

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