Every Day Has A Meaning, Every Day Has A Memory

September 26th is a significant day. Maybe not to you, but I always remember it. I think over time as you age, you acquire a bunch of dates that have a special meaning to you. Sometimes they're good memories, like the day of your first kiss or first date, and sometimes they're less joyful, like the day of a death or the day someone you cared about broke your heart. I sometimes feel that I'm going to eventually fill every date with a little memory and no longer be able to wake up to "just another day". I like associations though. It makes you remember, even when you'd like to forget.

Today's the day my grandfather died. It wasn't that we were particularly close but it's a day I remember. Because he was the first person in our family to die. It's like he started a chain reaction because people have been dropping like flies ever since. He was my first wake and my first funeral. He died from cancer. Colon cancer that spread to his liver. I was in high school. I think by the time I graduated we had done a full tour of the Manhattan and Bronx hospitals. The man who drove a taxi and smoke and drank in the Greek cafes of Astoria, wasted away and died in a year. The man who was like the Greek Godfather (minus the cocaine). The man who loved watching John Wayne movies while drinking cans of beer and brought us a bag filled with chocolate whenever he came to visit. That's the guy I saw waste away to 100 lbs and die. It's sad, but it's life.

I don't come from the type of family that talks about their feelings and is very lovey dovey. It's just not who we are. And we never really talked about it, not that any of us would of if it was brought up anyway. It's something that happened. And everyone dealt with it differently. I don't really talk about it. I guess now I do via this post but I'm not good at talking about how I feel. I think it's a good time though. It's been 9 years. And every year gets easier. It's not so much that you forget, but you let go a bit. You don't clutch the memory as tightly as you once did. The first few years, I would wake up and knew it was going to be a bad day. I wanted to be left alone and loved the years the 26th would fall on a weekend when I could sleep and didn't have to go to work and see anyone. As the years have passed, I've filled the date with happier memories and less sulking.

Just as with anything, all you need is time. At first you're angry and then you're sad and then you try to sear the old memories into your brain in an attempt to remember them forever and then the feelings eventually fade away and it becomes just a memory. And when shitty things happen, I try to remember that I am not the first person this has happened to, nor will I be the last. There are other people who have felt like this and been through the same things. If only we were better at sharing then we would know that people truly understand. Maybe we could walk around with little bios of ourselves that we pass to the people we meet. That way we could know who has been through the same things we have. We could cope with things better and be able to commiserate. I try sometimes when I see that other people are going through things I've already experienced. I try to help them, but it's still hard to talk about, since I am not a talker of feelings. But everything happens for a reason, and people have to go through things at a certain time in their life for a reason. The lessons you learn, help you throughout life. They build on each other without you even knowing. And then one day you get IT. You just see what you've been missing all along. Because when things are right in front of your face you usually can't see them. It's like when your parents told you not to do something and said "I'm older than you and I've been through the same thing. I'm telling you not to do it" and you don't listen because you figure they have no idea what life is like now and they could never understand. And then you grow up and realize that you were pretty dumb back then and wonder how it is that you managed to cross the street on your own.
These last few weeks, I've finally had time to review the last year of my life and, I'm not so sure I understand IT totally, but I think I'm getting there. In the meantime, in honor of my grandfather, I'm gonna watch some tv and drink a can of beer. You should do the same.

I Don't Know How To Feel About This

I'm pretty much all settled into the new place. I like coming home and waking up knowing that everything is in it's place and where I left it the night before. I like living alone. It's so quiet. Which is a good and bad thing I guess. I miss the city though. Not like I don't travel there most of the week, but I miss living there. I went out a few weekends ago and was exhausted at 10:30pm. I looked at that M101 bus and said "oh please take me home!". Instead I had to get on the uptown 6 train for 40 minutes. Woof.
I still don't know how I feel about moving. There are pros and cons. It's two different lives. I like that it's quiet and drama free and clean, but I also miss the convenience and bustle. I'm writing this while my express bus just passed my old street and the M103 bus. I miss those dirty things.

Pros
- It's quiet which means I get to sleep in and don't have to answer to anyone else
- I have a 15 minute walk to work. Which is helpful since I'm not a very good morning person
- I love that I can see stars and everything is dark and quiet
- I feel safer being alone on deserted streets at night than I do on 116th with 25 people around
- I'm less stressed
- I get to be naked more! Hooray!
- I haven't had a full night of sleep since February. Since April, I've been a POW. I would get up in the middle of the night 2-4 times. Mostly because there were people coming and going all hours of the night. And I would get less than 7 hours of interrupted sleep almost every night. My weekend sleep-in was 8:45am. My body finally said NO FUCKING MORE. The weekend of the 9th was the first weekend I've slept in. I can't get enough sleep. I love sleeping. I love waking up at noon on weekends.

Cons
-The drama and craziness that consumed my life also caused me to smoke and drink more and eat less which led me to look better than I ever have. Since there's no longer that factor, I'm starting to eat more. Guess I'm gonna be a fat ass again
-The bus from the local bar in the Bronx stops at 11:07pm on Saturdays and 10:35 on weekdays. If I don't get that, I have a 25-30 minute walk down very dark streets. That makes me sad. I really, really miss 24 hour buses, subways and cabs.
I miss you M15 bus!
-I can't see the NYC skyline from the balcony anymore
- There's no AM paper. Thank god Crazy brings it to me every morning from the city. I'd be lost without that daily crossword puzzle
-No more last minute invitations out. If you wanna see me, tell me ahead of time. Cuz it takes me 30 minutes to get ready and 50 minutes of travel.


I don't know what side I'm on. The sleep factor is pulling me towards PRO but I do miss being in the thick of things. Don't you worry, Manhattan, I'll be back soon....

Football!

I grew up watching soccer, Nascar, and the UFC. We weren't all-American baseball loving fans. Although, I was a Red Sox fan for a while just to be an asshole to my fellow Yankees fans. Those hats are still my favorite hats. Football was occasional but I always loved the sport. I liked watching sports but I've never really had an alliance to any of the teams. I've fluttered from here to there over the years, loving certain teams for different reasons. I think I finally found my teams. It took a while, but I think I just needed to grow up and find out who I was before devoting myself to one team. Too deep and metaphoric, I know, but it's true. We don't really know what we're doing until we can devote all our time and attention to one person or team. That's when we know we're a grown up. Whether they fail or succeed or decline or become infamous, we're there. Through it all. And when people are shit talking and smacking you down, you stand tall wearing your team logo proudly. We don't back down, because we're loyal through it all.

I love most sports (golf is not a sport. Sorry.) but I really, really love football and hockey. During this last year I put major thought into who I was going to root for. In hockey, I decided I would go to home games for The Rangers, The Devils, and The Islanders and then decide fairly without anyone elses influence. I made it 2/3. I was amazed at how dedicated and friendly and fun Rangers fans were. They were so welcoming, I didn't even make it to Long Island (sorry Islanders! I usually like rooting for the underdogs but...).

Last Fall I turned my attention to Football. I became a fan of the Jets. Because 1. I loved the new found sibling team rivalry with my Giant sister and 2. people scoffed when Rex Ryan said they were making a comeback. I know, people's future is usually dictated by their past, but sometimes we have to have a little hope. Plus, Mark Sanchez was a bonus for watching the games! And I love how you can walk down the street in a Jersey or team t-shirt and you're automatically friends with people from the same alliance. It's uplifting to be like "high five, random dude! They freakin' won!". The Jets proved people wrong. And, even though they made it further than they had in a very long time, people are still shit talking. Which makes me root for them even more. I believe in them.

And, I would like to think that I am their unknown lucky charm. They seem to win every game that I watch from start to finish while in my Sanchez jersey so I've decided that I have a duty to watch every single game and not wash my jersey all season. Let me tell you, if that first Sunday game is a foreshadowing of what my condition will be 2 months from now, I may not make it to see them get to the Super Bowl. Shambles. That is all I have to say.

Our Bar Quest Continues....

The summer was spent trying to find an apartment and trying to find a new replacement for Pat O'Briens. So far, some close contenders but no replacement. I've literally been drinking myself up and down the Upper East Side. Not that I'm complaining, but there was A LOT of beer drinking. We have a few that are almost there but nothing compares to the awesomeness that was Patty O's. The following list contains the "almost bars". If they could all combine into one bar, we would be ecstatic:

Brother Jimmy's- 92nd and 3rd
Manny's- 92nd and 2nd
Stumble Inn- 75th and 2nd
O'Flanigans- 65th and 1st
Swig- 2nd ave between 84th and 85th
The Recovery Room- 1st ave between 75th and 76th

What's even more frustrating is that every time I walk down the street I see another bar that's closed down. 2nd Avenue, stop it. Just stop it. Went to Crowe's Nest one night. The next week, there was paper covering the windows. No warning. Just gone. I don't like it. And you all know how I don't like change and surprises.

Here's a list of bars that just haven't worked out for us:

Bradys--too divey, not enough seating
Molly's Pitcher--too dead
East End--too expensive and crowded
Wicker Park--too restauranty and dead
Johnny Foxes--too dead, no beer pong
Kinsale--too restauranty, no beer pong and we should probably not show up after we were asked to leave a few months ago
Jack Russells--too expensive
Rathbones- too restauranty

Among a shit ton of others. Major sigh. But I will not rest until I find "IT". It's out there. And just like most things, sometimes it takes a while to uncover. Even if it means acquiring some alcoholism along the way....

Let's Ease Into This, Shall We?

The moment you've all been waiting for.....WEBISODE TIME!!

I have finally begun posting my webisodes. Again, I remind you, they are meant to be funny. Please don't get offended. Not that any of you would, because you're pretty awesome people if you're reading my blog.

I hope you find my face as funny as I do....enjoy.

Someone Has Definitely Cursed Me....

So, September 1st was supposed to be the start of a new life. Negative. To be really honest, I was pretty scared a few days ago about starting my new boring life. After so much commotion and drama I don't know how to live any other way. If you asked me Saturday I would say I was terrified. If you asked me Monday night I would say "bring on the fucking boredom". I hope that I'm so fucking bored I sleep at 8:30pm every night. I have had enough drama and stress in the last week to last a lifetime.

After finally getting out of that building on the 31st, I had to deal with one of my ex-crazy roommates practically squatting in the apartment until the 6th of September. That's the long story short. He was out of town, not packed then came back and nonchalantly hung out for a day. And when I asked him when he's leaving that night he got crazy on me. Like crazy eyes crazy. I feared for my life a bit. And he's a big guy. Knows martial arts, did some underground fighting. That kind of crazy. Thank god I have witnesses cuz I can't even make this shit up.

So, instead of drinking my face off and building my new Ikea furniture on my last night of freedom before the school year started, I was running around the city dealing with squatters, drunk doormen, and police that couldn't do anything since it's not a criminal issue. My favorite line of the night was my friend who said "I wish he did hit me. I'd take one for the team". And that's what's amazing. I have some pretty awesome friends who have had to sit through, live through, and hear all about my life drama for the last year. There have been some pretty shitty times. Some that I'm not so sure how I survived and lived to tell the story. And if it wasn't for them I probably would be a puddle of tears right now. So thanks friends. For being awesome. But from now on you're gonna have to find someone else to entertain you. Cuz I plan on being extremely fucking boring from now on.
And if there is a heaven, when I get to the gates I better be on the freaking guest list cuz the things I have had to endure win me some brownie points. I'm practically a saint.

The New Chapter of Natasha....

Boy are you guys in for a treat! After much deliberation I've decided to start making webisodes, or video blogs. These will be just like my blog entries but live. That means you guys get to see THIS lovely fache. Someone a couple months ago said that my facial expressions are really hilarious and what make my stories. I'm not denying that my face is funny but I never actually get a chance to see it that often. They suggested I start filming my rants.

It seemed like a funny idea so while waiting for the Time Warner guy to come pick up the equipment this week, we decided to start filming to pass the time. Fueled by 3 Coors Lights, the start of a new era has begun. I usually hate watching myself on video and think that I have a pretty annoying voice, but the faces I make, the sound effects I have, and my flailing arms are WAY too funny to deny the public. So, it begins. Live blogs. I will talk about the same things I do in my blog and also have guest appearances by other people to shake things up a bit.

As you all know, I have opinions. And some pretty ridiculous stories. This is done all in fun and I apologize ahead of time if anyone gets offended(lighten up though-- Life is short). They will be posted to my Youtube channel and linked to Facebook so feel free to pass it around to your friends if you find it entertaining. The more hits the better.

Change Sucks!

I don't do so well with change. It takes me a while to accept it. Even if I know its coming. Its still hard. I wouldn't necessarily say that I'm a control FREAK but I do like having control over situations that affect me. I don't like being caught off guard. People are unpredictable and since we inevitably have to deal with them on a daily basis, I like to prepare myself as best as I can for what they may or may not do, that way it softens the blow when they sideswipe you with some other ridiculousness they've thought up. And I'm constantly trying to understand why people do the things they do and why they make the choices they do (I know I shouldn't but it can't be helped. Its the psychologist in me), and although I can figure out 98% of things, there are still a few mysteries. Mysteries that will probably never be uncovered.
Moving is hard. And, as much as I know this is for the best, its still hard. Cuz God knows that building and its inhabitants have done nothing but drive me insane for the last 14 months. And despite all the drama, good memories were still made there (they're far and few between at this point, but they exist). I remember when I used to pass the building on a weekly basis 2 years ago and think "who the hell lives in this random building in the middle of Spanish Harlem!?" Boy did I find out!
I can say for certain that this move was much needed. After only 2 nights I feel like my old self again. No anxiety, no wondering how many people are in my living room at 3am, no late night texts, no cleaning after other people. Your home should be where you go to get away from it all. Your sanctuary. You shouldn't be running FROM your home. Well, everything is a learning experience. For better or worse. And I learned a SHIT TON this last year.

Sheryl Crow sings "I think a change/will do you good"...let's hope she's right....