Apples to Apples

Well, the last time I wrote I was complaining about that girl in my office and her annoying "coffee!" announcements. I'm no longer worried about her French Pressing and Komodo Dragon blends because I no longer work for Apple (thanks for the phone though!). This week I re-re-located to New York. The past couple of weeks have been pretty stressful, but I'm glad to finally be here. My flight was scheduled for 7:00 a.m. on Tuesday morning. My dad is even more insane about punctuality than I am, so he let me know that we'd be leaving the house "at four fucking thirty! I know you didn't realize that there were two four thirties in the day, but you're about to find out!" Ah. He's so easy going. He also informed me that "security is going to be a bitch." Can we just go ahead and clear up this misconception about security lines now? I've never, ever waited more than fifteen minutes in a security line. Maybe it feels like it takes forever because it's a long line of people and you have to take off your shoes and your belt and it seems to move slow and you're anxious because you don't want to miss your flight. But really, it's ten minutes or less 90% of the time. I'm telling you. Break out your stopwatch the next time you're at the airport. It's much, much faster than you think. Anyway, I just nodded my agreement and was up at 3:45 and sure enough, we were out the door by 4:25. Naturally, there wasn't another car on the freeway, so I was at the airport by 5:00. And the dreaded security line took all of five minutes, so I was at the gate by 5:15. Terrific. When I checked in, the bubbly Jet Blue representative let me know that my flight was delayed because someone on last night's flight needed oxygen, and they weren't allowed to take off without a full tank. Umm, okay. Last night, you say? Couldn't you have taken care of it then? Er, don't you have a spare tank laying around? It's just that little green thing, right?

She let me know that my flight had already been refunded for the inconvenience, which made me happy, but then made me wonder just how long this delay would be. Her reply? Four hours! Four! For a stupid oxygen tank! At that point I would've been willing to hold my breath for the entire flight in case someone needed extra oxygen. So we finally did take off at about 11:15. And actually, someone DID need oxygen on the flight! Wait, no they didn't. Because no one ever needs oxygen on these flights!!! Yaaarrrggghh!!! Although, they did let us watch the pay-per-view movies for free (two notes on that: "Once" is as good the second time around and "Live Free or Die Hard" is retarded. That is all.)

I decided to get into town on a Tuesday because I had ambitiously planned to hit the ground running and find a job and be productive. This has been the case, for the most part. I have been able to create a few leads, which is promising. Wednesday night, I went out for drinks with some friends. We had a great time catching up and chit-chatting about whatever. However, it quickly devolved into an all-nighter. Yeah. So Thursday morning I woke up on Paul's couch, nursing a blistering hangover and dreading the inevitable subway commute back to Park Slope. I jumped on the L to Manhattan. Then transferred to the 5 to Brooklyn. Then we got to the bottom of the island and "due to an ongoing police investigation," I had to get off the train, go up two stops and get on another train to Brooklyn. Crikeys. Finally I made it back to the apartment, well over an hour after I left Paul's apartment. Then I hopped in the shower and prepared myself for an afternoon of daytime television and napping.

However, I got a call from a guy at a PR agency, so I talked to him for a little while about what I'd been up to, what I was looking for, etc. He asked if I'd be interested in coming for an interview. Of course! Then he wanted to know if I could make it in today. Errr....I guess. I need to shave and print some resumes, but that shouldn't be a problem. Then he let me know that their main offices are in East Rutherford, New Jersey. Yeesh! So we decided that the interview would be at 5:00. I looked at the clock. 2:00. Hmmm...could I make it in three hours? So I ran to the bathroom and shaved, promptly cutting myself in approximately 4,327 places. Really. It looked like I'd shaved with a cheese grater. Then I put on my big boy clothes and caught the train to Manhattan. I found a Kinko's and printed some resumes and made my way down to Penn Station for my commute to Jersey. Naturally, I was at their offices by 4:15. Great. I'm not sure how the interview went. I can never tell with these sorts of things. I do know that I was exhausted by the time I got back to Brooklyn at around 8:00. So I watched the first half of the Colts/Saints game then went to bed.

This weekend is my "Welcome back" BBQ and night of debauchery. Should be a good time. I guess this is officially Chapter Three of this blog? We'll title it "the day I moved back and realized how dependent I had been on my car, man, my knee is sore." To be continued!