The Power of Positively WARM Thinking

My poor sole was lacking in vitamin D and just plain old warmth. Summer ‘09 was a total bust. With constant rain and temperatures topping out in the high sixties I never attained my bronze fertility goddess glow and entered the fall/ winter a sickly shade of pearlized lavender. By mid Jan I was DONE with this weather and sent out a missive begging my palls to partner me in a jaunt to anyplace that served tropical drinks under swaying palms. My peeps all fell flat – too busy, too broke, too whatever but I had sent out my call to the world and like most things in my life the answer came streaming back from a source that I had never thought to tap. A day after my cry for a vacation cohort an old buddy noticed my ‘on line’ status and shot me a quick IM bemoaning his current fate; he was trapped on a lengthy business trip at a luxury resort down in sunny Florida. As we exchanged pleasantries I logged into my Jet Blue account hovering my blinking cursor over the very tempting BUY NOW button as I impatiently awaited an invitation to stow away on yet another friend’s business trip. Within the half hour my flight and rental car were booked and within 45 minutes I was rummaging around my apartment un-space bagging my summertime togs.

Fast forward one week later I was napping poolside with the sun streaming down turning my nose and chest a warm shade of magenta. It was mind boggling that in less time it takes me to travel by train out to Mom’s on LI I was transported to a totally different world – how could this still be January? What kind of alternate universe did I travel too? No coat, no gloves, not even socks! I was wary of the whole “bare feet’ in the middle of January – it usually takes careful planning and several ‘treatments” beginning late March to have my toes ready for prime time Memorial Day weekend (my winter feet are not prepared for this type of surprise outing). But with T-bone’s prodding, “Let those toes out there! They want o be out!” I scrubbed them down, lubed ‘em up, coated them with a lovely neutral polish and set them free! Ahhhhh T-Bone was correct, my piggies were in hog heaven.

Two Birds One Stone

This lady got needs and currently I have two very pressing needs, 1 – a guy to date, 2 – somebody to install my two window air conditioners. Yes I CAN install my ACs, I’ve been doing it for 7 years but it would be sooooo great if there was another set of hands to help. Lugging them out of the closet, dragging them across the apartment, balancing them on the window sill 4 flights up from the sidewalk below as I precariously wedge loose bricks under the bottom edge to help reduce the risk of “flip out” – I’m kinda done. Last year I was almost decapitated when just seconds after pulling my head back into my apartment my circa 1929 window broke loose from its track and came slamming down full force. Unfortunately my left arm was not as lucky as my head; it was splayed across the top of the unit with my fingers wrapped around the outer edge of the AC. I don’t know how I was able to lift the entire weight of the window off my arm with just my free 4 stubby fingers while not loosing the appliance or passing out from the pain, but I did it and as a souvenir I rocked an oozing black and green bruise for weeks.

Fast forward to summer 2009 and once again it is time to re-install my units but this time I thought I would do the very smart thing and post on my facebook – for all 154 friends to see – my need for help. Not only did I post that I needed help I even offered up a pint and a cheeseburger from Donovan’s (voted NYC’s best burger by TONY) and guess what, the ONLY person who responded was Q in NC promising that if she was in NYC she would lend a hand. Really, really? WTF!? It would even be cool if Scooter offered to do it when he visits at the end of the month however he and Galleta’s have decided not to respond to voice mails or emails. Yep I just called both of you out in the blog – but I have no worries of any repercussions since Galleta is MIA and Scooter recently informed me that he’s just too busy to return calls, reply to emails or read the blog anymore.

While bemoaning my fate to an old friend (name withheld) she suggested a very creative solution to both my needs (#1 and #2). She recommended that I post an add on craigslist.com offering a buffet of torrid services in return for AC installation. At first I shrugged off this strategy however as the temperature rises and Match.com has been unable to locate at least one “mutual match” out of their 16 million subscribers, this raunchy plan is shockingly gaining my approval.
In closing please share in the horror of the only email I received yesterday from Match.com. While you are reading this please picture a fat balding 55 year old man in a Hawaiian shirt, gold chains, faded tight jeans, white socks, and cream colored pointed-toe shoe-boots lounging in a leather office chair with one hand on his crotch and the other holding a telephone receiver to his ear.

you will fall in love

HI MY NAME IS (removed) WOULD LIKE TO MEET FOR DRINKS THISN WEEK I LIVE AN WORK IN THE CITY, 917*399-(removed) CALL U WILL HAVE FUN,,

Who ARE these people?

Last night I attended a free-bee mojito party sponsored by the concierge company that services my swanky office building. They hosted this event at High Bar, a midtown roof top lounge that one must gain entry through a series of velvet ropes and speak easy like basement catacombs.

Once at the penthouse level my plus one and I found Bookie 2, poured ourselves some free drinks then decided to do some investigating. The intimate outdoor space was furnished with brightly striped low couches and large square beds festooned with canvas drapes, with a BBQ, bar and DJ area. We plopped ourselves in an area marked ‘reserved’ since it afforded us the best vantage point to view the crowd and boy was it an odd mix. I thought it would be mostly business peeps from our building but it turned out that there were two very different parties being hosted concurrently. On the edge of the roof along the row of couches sat the office-y types (mostly woman, except for the one couple making sweet sweet love on the bed in the corner) while in the center the reserved banquets held a LA trashy crowd who I believe may be solely responsible for the influx of New York City’s bed bug infestation. This group of trendy, oh so bored with life anorexics were draped over one another smoking and texting. The guys looked to be in their 40’s with teen age haircuts and frosted tips, skinny jeans, and $200 vintage T shirts that had been strategically hand distressed by some top designer. The girls were mostly 23 with no pants, ratty hair (that oh so dirty messy I just rolled out of bed and did some blow look), all with a penchant for showing some sort of foundation garment. Who are these people? Where do they come from? Why don’t they smile or laugh? These are not my people – entertaining to watch, kinda like being at the zoo – but not my people.

So the immediate company was swell, the free drinks were yummy, the view was lovely and the people watching was a hoot however it was not the evening that I had hoped for – oh well.

Coo Coo Bananas

I like many other urban dwellers have a visceral hatred for the Columba palumbus, AKA, the pigeon. I hate pigeons on so many levels but I mostly hate pigeons in or on my domicile. In? Yes in..but that's a story for a later time, this blog is about pigeons roosting on my and my neighbor’s window sills.

I live on the top floor of a small apartment building that is conjoined to a sister building next door which creates a sort of alley that the tenets share. For years this alley has been a haven for pigeons; with its eastern exposure it stays toasty warm in the winter and with the addition of window air conditioners in the summer the pigeons snuggle in quite contently building nests in the spaces between the bottoms of the units and the window sills. Nobody appeared to take issue with the birds for I being the tenant at the end of the alley I have a view of everybody’s windows from my couch and there seemed to be no deterrents erected to quell the constant sound of wings flapping and the endless maddening cooing!!! That is until I undertook project pigeon bye bye.

A few years ago Scooter (also a tenacious hatter of the cooing fowl) advised me to hang plastic bags from my window sills to deter the gray beasts from laying claim to my red brick oasis. I didn’t really think it would work but on Scooter's instructions I jammed my white grocery bags between the screens and the outside world then waited to see if there was any effect on the bastards. Moments later a squatter came swooping in at full speed yet when he caught a glimpse of the offending plastic bag bobbing in the wind he quickly turned vertical - like Luke escaping from the death star - and flew off to perch elsewhere. Wholly cow it worked…it really worked, and it never stopped working.

Sure the bags get grimy and gunky and they do look a bit dodgy but it’s better than pigeon poop and fluff all over my screens. However I still had the problem of my neighbors harboring the offensive interlopers, especially my neighbor whose window is positioned a mere 4” away from my living room. Ughhh every summer they would install their AC unit and every summer a family of diseased flying rats would roost, procreate….and cooooooo cooooooo cooooooo….. but not THIS Summer.

Yesterday morning I awoke to a sun drenched sky and with temperatures in the seventies I threw my windows open for the first time since closing them in November to discover not only did I have new neighbors across the alley but they had installed PLASTIC BAGS in their windows, all 3 of them, just like me!!!! I don’t know who these people are (they live in the building next door) but I want to hang a sign in my kitchen widow emblazoned in bold print “Welcome to the hood Pigeon Hater” ! or “Welcome to the hood. I see we have similar interests, if you are a single male we should really date or if you are that guy who sings karaoke followed by making sweet love….I can hear you.”