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| Wednesday, February 16, 2005 |
| Sometimes It Hits Me ... |
... I live in New York City. I've been here for two plus years and I still have moments, every day, when I look around and go, Damn, this is my life! I'm not watching it on TV, this isn't a movie, this is my life, and damn that's cool. When I first started thinking about moving out of Rhode Island for college, I immediately started looking at the rural, stereo-typical college campuses. UVM, UNH, Ithaca, etc. I was adamantly against going to school in a city. They were big and dirty and scary and you couldn't catch me dead there. Then, in October of my senior year of high school, my mother asked me to go see Emerson College. She had allowed me to choose every other school I looked at but she really wanted me to take a look at this one. I agreed, grudgingly. As a matter of fact I bitched and moaned the entire 45 minute drive to Boston. I didn't want to go to school in the city you see. And then I got on campus. And I shut the hell up. I didn't say a word. Because I knew Emerson and Boston were where I wanted to be. But clearly I could not give my mother the satisfaction of knowing she was right.
4 years later, as I looked through my Emerson College Class of 2002 yearbook, there in the back, in big block letters, was an ad from my mother: "[FINY], TOLD YA SO! Love Mom, Dad, and [Buddy]". She's still saying it today.
Boston was my baby step into the big city. And now here I find myself, still in awe of the place I've called home for 2 years +. I love that the coffee cart guy by my subway stop in Brooklyn will see me approaching down the street and have my coffee ready, just the way I like it, when I get there. I love that the newspaper guy right next to him saves me a Post if it's the last one he has. I love that when I exit the subway at 23rd street and look up at the Flatiron building, which I occasionally work out of, that I am suddenly struck by the thought of "my God, this is my life".
I wonder if that awe will ever go away. If I'm here for 20 years if I'll still wake up each morning overjoyed at the fact that I live in New York City. I hope it doesn't. |
posted by FINY @ Wednesday, February 16, 2005   |
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| Monday, February 14, 2005 |
| Valentine's Day |
Happy Valentine’s Day.
Today is a day to tell everyone you care about how you feel. A day when cards are given, flowers received, and chocolates eaten.
Today is a day I sit on the couch.
I don’t want to be bitter, I don’t. But I am. This weekend just drained me emotionally. On Friday night I threw a dinner party for my friends. J came and met everyone for the first time.
Then on Saturday my friend KD's older brother gave me a call to ask if I would look at apartments with him. He’s moving to the city from Boston and needed another opinion. I agreed, thing is, apartment searching turned into dinner dinner turned into drinks, by the end of the night I was dead tired.
On Sunday, MM had 5 friends over to have dinner. Once everyone got there, MG and I just bailed out of the apartment because it felt genuinely awkward. Like I was a guest in my own apartment. There wasn’t even enough space for me to make my own dinner. Such is the life in an NYC apartment, I guess.
It all worked out for the best, MG and I always have a great time and we went to Franny’s (apparently a famous Brooklyn Pizza place) where we had our picture taken for USA Today (no idea when it will run but it was interesting none the less) and then we went to the dive joint near our place and had a few beers.
So yeah, I’m a little drained today. I think I am going to splurge and go buy myself some flowers.Labels: dating |
| posted by FINY @ Monday, February 14, 2005 |
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| Monday, February 07, 2005 |
| drunk again |
ok, here i am, drunbk again.
it's the goddamned riviera. there i've watched so many sox games they know me now. so tonight i was there with jarid for 9 hours and my bar tab came to $30. ... 10 beers and 3 shots should not come to that little. but the pats won the superbow again and there are no words to describe it. It hasn't hit me and it won't until tomorrow.
J .... sti;; gotta ssee where that goes. cause tonight, i definitely mae the goodnight move. what's up with that.?!??!!?!?!Labels: dating |
| posted by FINY @ Monday, February 07, 2005 |
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| Sunday, February 06, 2005 |
| The Surrealism of Being a New England Fan |
Super Bowl Sunday is upon us and it doesn't really feel real.
I was on the street today walking to the corner store to grab some bacon for breakfast, wearing, of course, my Sox hat. As I passed someone on the street he smiled and mumbled, "Go Pats".
Go Pats indeed.
It's amazing that we're here again. New England fans, gathering around their various televisions sets all over the country, cheering their team in a championship game. The Red Sox World Series victory still hasn't really hit home yet, and now the Patriots are trying for their third SB title in four years.
Growing up in New England, the thing that is making me the most uncomfortable as a fan is the hype. New England teams are NEVER hyped. Well, unless you want to go back to the 60s Celtics teams. Every year our teams are continually given little respect. It's something you get used to. But today, the Pats are SUPPOSED to win. And that scares me.
It scares me because I'm still used to getting let down. And it scares me because I don't think it's going to be that easy. You've got two electric quarterbacks. Two ridiculously intelligent head coaches, and we're going up against the only other team that has a kicker even in the same LEAGUE as ours. In most other games AV has been our go to guy, our X factor. Today, the Eagles have one too.
It's probably one of the more evenly matched teams the Pats have come up against. Ironically it's the team we're SUPPOSED to beat. And don't get me wrong, I think they're going to. But I'm going to keep the Pepto close by anyway.
GO PATS!
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| posted by FINY @ Sunday, February 06, 2005 |
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| Friday, February 04, 2005 |
| Predate jitters |
Ok, the boy is coming over to my apartment for the first time and I'm freaking out a little bit. I actually LIKE this one. Shit man, how'd that happen?!?!?
Ok, must stay calm. Is only 4th date.
We're going bowling in Brooklyn, which is easily a 45 minute train ride for him. I'm excited because I haven't seen him since I got back from the Dominican, but oh good lord am I nervous about him coming over here. Must go scower my room to make sure I don't have panties lying around or anything.
Have I mentioned lately that I hate dating?
Labels: dating |
| posted by FINY @ Friday, February 04, 2005 |
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| Transcending the Language Barrier: The Dominican Republic and Baseball |
I recently got back from the Dominican Republic. A few friends and I decided to take the trip on a whim and we had an amazing time. Below is something I wrote for rsn.net:
As I’ve mentioned to many I recently took a trip to the Dominican Republic. This being my first trip outside of the United States (save for a few trips to Montreal, which I really don’t count) I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Especially since I speak no Spanish whatsoever and neither do the two women I was traveling with. What I didn’t realize was that I held the key to breaking the language barrier.
I speak fluent baseball.
We’ve all heard about how obsessed the Dominican Republic is with baseball from the likes of Pedro and Manny. We’ve heard the stories of Pedro sitting underneath a tree with no money. But nothing could have prepared me for the four days I spent down there.
I hadn’t really given much thought to the baseball aspect of the vacation until we stepped into line to check in at JFK. Everywhere I looked there were Red Sox hats. For a moment I was confused. The concentration of Red Sox fans in the line rivaled that at the Riviera. And then I remembered all the stories. Suddenly I wanted to rip my Sox hat out of my luggage and plop it on. I had found my people!
Throughout the trip I had more Red Sox conversations than I can even remember completely. It started right away with our cab driver, who took us on the two hour trip from Santiago to Cabarette. His English was pretty good actually, and he was eager to practice it with us. When he asked us where we were from and my friends said Boston he immediately said “Ah, Red Sox! Pedro Martinez and Manny Ramirez!” My friends, not being sports fans at all, told him I was a big fan. He then whipped out his camera and showed me three pictures of Manny from a few weeks previous to my trip. Apparently Manny had gone back for a visit and Matismo (our driver) had gone to the airport to greet him. He explained to us how when the Red Sox won the World Series there were all night parties all over the Dominican. His descriptions, while at times tough to understand, made it sound like Boston on that night.
What surprised me about Matismo was that his knowledge of the game goes much further back than even mine did until recently. When we checked into our hotel there was a LONG delay while they tried to track down our reservation. Matismo stayed to make sure we got checked in ok and was sitting reading the paper. I pulled out my Monville biography of Ted Williams and flipped to the picture section. When I opened the book and showed it to Matismo, and explained that these were pictures of Williams he got all excited.
“I know Ted Williams. Best ever player.” He said while making a batting motion with his hands. He and I looked through the pictures together and it was like sitting with a 5 year old kid on Christmas. He had heard about Williams but had never seen his picture.
I wore my Sox hat as often as I could for the rest of the trip. It was a great way to meet people, regardless of how poorly they spoke English or the fact that I spoke NO Spanish. The hotel workers started calling me Boston. I had conversations with people about Pedro going to the Mets. Whenever I mentioned that Pedro had gone to New York, most all people said “But at least he not a Yankee.”
While talking to everyone about the Sox was a lot of fun, especially seeing it from a different perspective, what was most amazing about the trip was that we were down there for the last few games of the Dominican World Series. Many of my Sox conversations eventually led to talking to people about these games between the Licey Tigers and the Aguilas who I believe are from the Santo Domingo area. And this is where it got interesting.
While talking to someone at the gas station in town about the Red Sox, I noticed that they were playing Tigers highlights on the television. I had heard of Licey only because Hanley Ramirez played for that at one time and I thought still did. I mentioned to the man I was talking to that I had heard of the team and he got extremely animated.
“History happen here in Dominican, just like in America! Licey lose three games. One more lose and over. Then Licey win three games. Tonight last game! Just like Red Sox!” That night we wandered around Cabaratte for a while, just taking one last look before going into Puerto Plata that night and going home the following morning. As we were walking we noticed the same thing we had the previous two nights, groups of people, usually about 30 – 35 people, congregating around various storefronts. Upon further inspection I confirmed what I had thought before, they were watching the games.
It seemed that every store that had a television was pushing the set up to the window and that is how people got to watch the games. Though we were in the heart of Aguila territory, most everyone seemed to be pulling for the Tigers. One person described the situation to me this way: “The Aguilas are the Yankees, the Tigers are the Red Sox”.
That night, in Puerto Plata, the game was just wrapping up as we finished dinner. We knew as soon as the game was over because the celebrating happened immediately. We ran out to the porch of the restaurant and there were SEAS of yellow and black flags and banners (the Aguilas colors). Down the street there must have been a group of 100 people outside a movie theater all screaming and shooting guns in the air (that was a little scary I’m not going to lie). In the half an hour ride home we saw impromptu parades, people banging together anything they could to make noise, spilling out the backs of pick-up trucks, hanging onto the sides of busses, riding on top of minivans, dragging all sorts of things behind their cars and scooters.
Our taxi driver, a Licey fan who was proudly flying a Tigers flag from his car, was getting booed everywhere. When we asked him how he was feeling he said:
“It is amazing they made it this far. Next year we will win.”
My friends turned to me and promptly told me to move to the Dominican Republic. I had found the motherland.
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| posted by FINY @ Friday, February 04, 2005 |
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