Wednesday, March 12, 2008

NYC - DC and TEN-A-C


So we finally vacated out apartment in NYC during the first snow storm of the year! We woke up at 5:30 and came face to face with about 3 inches of beautiful snow. But that beauty quickly faded as we realized that we had to trudge through the stuff with all of our belongings. Needless to say that we were quite stressed out but then we remembered that...

We hired movers!!!

So all in all it wasn't bad at all. The moving company we used (moveeast.com) were wonderful and professional and they didn't complain at all... except for one small thing. Do you ever notice in New York City, movers and cabbies always tell you some sob story about how they had some huge job for some disgustingly rich fellow and at the end of the job the exuberantly rich fellow failed to tip the poor overworked and impoverished worker. I have heard this story numerous times and it must be some sort of psychological trick. You hear the story and then you say to your self; "self, you are a decent person and even though you are paying the moving company your monthly earnings to haul your crap across the country, you are going to tip and tip big, thus showing this poor gentleman that you are a decent person and that you understand that hard work should be rewarded and more importantly proving that I am a better person than that rich person that stiffed them last time". Which raises a big question, why would some super rich, billionaire use the same company to shelp his shit across the country as me... as I shopped around for months to find the cheapest service out there. You would think that a man dripping in dollar bills would use a service more qualified to deal with his economic stature. And why would this moving company for the economically normal be dealing directly with this super rich nondescript man and not his assistant, handler or ass wiper. Thus perhaps proving the point that this story is a New York urban myth, passed down from cabbie, to mover, to housecleaner throughout generations. However at the time, I did not have time to make such deductions, I was busy running to the ATM to get more cash out... and I am still better than that millionaire.

We left the city at noon and headed out to our Nations Capitol. Sights of interest:

- Walter Reed Army Medical Center - neglecting veterans near you
- Vietnam Memorial - at night in the dark, reading names by brail
- Langley - if I told you I would have to kill you
- Georgetown Canels - the drained putrid canels reminded us of the subway tunnels, nostalgia

I must preface this already lengthy entry by stating that I have never been a good roadtrip tourist or sightseer, I rarely slow down for photos and turning back is more of less like starting over. That being said we did have a lovely 12 hours in DC, been there done that... writing the blog.

The next day we headed west on 40 and its amazing, the scenery doesn't change but boy do the accents. We stopped at Ruby Tuesday in some town in some state and I accidentally mocked our waitress's accent. I ordered the Turkey burger and she said: "Eye loove the turkey burrgher" (admittedly I have no idea how to write a southern accent - but you get the idea) and I responded "ohhh dew you, than eye'll have dat". Ben kicked me under the table and I managed to smile off the complete and utter insult. Which leads me to a big pressing issue, can you be accentist... as in racist, agist. I think you can.. and I was and I apologize Ruby Tuesday Waitress, I was wrong and I am sorry.

So then we made our way to Nashville and it was awesome. We started off the night with a little karoke, and then headed out to get some good old bbq. As Ben and I walked down the main drag, overwhelmed with Neon Signs and country music we thought to ourselves... where are we going to eat? And then we saw it... an older gentleman, I would safely say in his 70's stumbles out of a restaurant. He is wearing a yellow button up t-shirt, a bolo tie and he is circling his fist in the air, not dissimilar to the cowardly lion, and I swear he was saying "put em up, put em up". The gentleman he was jestering towards was a middle aged man in a starter jacket and break-away pants and surprisingly he was just trying to get out of the situation... but this old man wouldn't quit.. he was moving his fists in a circular pattern (yes, with the palms of his fists facing upward) and if memory serves he was even pouring on a little fancy footwork.. but then the footwork couldn't keep up with his level of intoxication and he fell... backwards... and hit his head on the side of the building. Yes, perhaps this was not the most action packed fight scene, but it was the best restaurant recommendation that we could have ever dreamed up. I don't remember the name of the place but we walked right in.

At this nameless bar and restaurant, we came face to face with one of Nashville's most notorious species - the Cougar! These women were amazing, bottled blond and permed, in there 50's and furious as all hell. They sat at the edge of the bar, sipping on bottle neck beer and lip singing to every country song that the band played while at the same time squeezing their boobs together, doing nasty things to their bottle necked beers and seamlessly licking their lips while not missing a syllable of honky-tonk. It was a spectacle to behold followed by a creepy moment of, "what if that were my mom". After the waitress set down our second round of beers and bbq (mine pizza and Ben's pork) we asked her about these legends at the bar and the waitress simply responded while shaking her head; "You have no idea the things I have seen". It was one of the single most mortified statements that I have ever heard. Leading me to believe that these Cougars have left not only a trail of "didn't know better" drunk young men but a longer trail of decency and dreams... a trail that these poor waitresses have to mop up everynight.

Sunday, March 9, 2008

Wow - Bloggin: is tough work



Yes, I know its been over a month since my last post... There has been so much to blog about and yet so little time... so rather than warp to the next level, I would like to spend some time musing about the last month.

Starting with our awesome going away party! In all honesty, I thought the invite would over shadow the party (since I was so happy with my first successful attempt at photoshop) but that couldn't be further from the truth. I can't believe the amount of people and support that we got from everyone, it was so amazing. I haven't been emotional about leaving New York at all... but I managed to break into tears multiple times. There are so many friendships that I have made over the past years and we have all truly grown up with each other, watching our lives change to grad school, marriage, children and promotions. New York City is kind of like having a second attempt at adolescence, a chance to really find yourself and figure out what it is you want to be when you grow up.

The party was at Edge Bar in the east side, my hands down favorite moment of the night was when the bar tender called for me: "Beth, Beth who is Beth". A lot of people started pointing in my direction, and I thought I was in trouble; "Are you Beth?", the bartender asked..."yea", "Well your mom called and she wants me to tell you that she loves you and that she is thinking of you and would like to buy you and Ben a drink". How cool is that? Under normal circumstances you never want the bartender to start a sentence "Your mom called and...", this could only mean a handful of things:

1) you spend way too much time at the bar
2) the bartender is your dad
3) dinner is ready

It was nice to be thought of by my friends, co-workers and family that night. Especially on the night I was graduating from New York.. hey you got to grow up sometime.

Stay tuned for our news on our road trip...