Hat Dawgs, Rooftops, and Moonwalking

What do these three all have in common? 

Give up?

These things have been my most recent goings-on, and I, of course, have to tell all of you about them.  Let's start with Hat Dawgs.  Yes, I really mean hot dogs, but when one of your good friends grows up in Philly, it suddenly becomes Hat Dawgs.  My friend Julie and I have been running amok lately.  (You should look up the meaning of the phrase "running amok" and its origin...you'd be surprised...I was...anyway...)

So where was I? Oh yes.  Julie.  Julie is Farron's girlfriend.  Farron and I have known each other for 17 years, which is just weird in itself and makes me feel old.  These two have taken me under their proverbial wings and given me the opportunity to experience far more than I ever would have on my own in this city. Remmber the trapeze class?  Julie.  Remember trivia night? Julie and Farron.  Remember the fantasy football league?  You got it.  Julie and Farron again.  One of these opportunities arose on Friday night when Julie wanted to go to Coney Island.  Since this is one of her favorite places in NYC and I had only gone there once during the winter, she thought that it would be nice to head south while it is still semi-warm.  Unfortunately, we got out there and everything was closed.  However, we did not let the moment pass us by without having a Nathan's hot dog.  If you aren't familiar, Nathan's is the famous venue of the annual world famous Hot Dog Eating Contest featuring the famous Japanese professional eater Kobayashi and the American running champ Joey Chestnut. I just used the word famous a lot. This experience was not without a homeless man approaching us and asking us if he could eat our food, and a bride taking her bridal pictures in Nathan's itself.  Ah, New York. 

We then thought we would head down to the boardwalk.  On our way, we passed an Indian family chilling in a parking lot in their lawn chairs listening to Indian music out of speakers in their trunks.  And then...and here is the good stuff...we got to the boardwalk itself.  Here, we came upon a tent set up in the middle of the empty boardwalk/beach with lighting and music and people dancing.  Fair enough.  But the music was some strange concoction of 80's type electronica with beats in the background and strangest mix of people doing their own interpretation of dance.  First, we had the middle aged bald guy in a tank top doing moves I didn't know older white men should be able to do (see video below..sorry for the poor quality...it's the best I could do and be inconspicuous).  Then there was the couple who were both wearing skirts.  She was Asian and he was African American with a fro.  They were doing some weird animalistic interpretative dance that consisted of crouching, the girl being on all fours, and him doing some twirly jump thing (again see video although it maybe too dark to see and peopel kept getting in my way).  This entire scene was worth the hour long trip down there in itself. 

Since everything was closed, Julie and I decided to head back to her place in Brooklyn since my only experience in the burrough proper was a trip to Target that was...well...fairly uninspiring.  However, I loved it! Her neighborhood is super cute, and the feel was completely different from my hood.  The architecture of the buildings was very interesting, and the blocks were all lined with trees.  Everything seemed a little more chill. Since her roommates were home, we headed up to her rooftop to have some wine, and it was weird to look at Manhattan from outside Manhattan since her rooftop has a perfect view from across the river.  It's so easy to just get drawn into it and forget that New York City is much more vast than it seems.   I would love to spend some more time there getting to see more of the neighborhood since we were only there at night. 



From Julie's roof



Speaking of Fantasy Football.  I just have to toot my own little horn now and report that I was again the highest scoring team in the league this week, and I won the trophy for biggest blow out.  The boys in the league have been reported to have said that the girl teams would be miserably unsuccessful.  I should also mention that first place in the league is Julie and a close second is me.  What do they gotta say now? Huh? Huh?!? This Fantasy thing is quickly becoming an obsession.  One of the biggest mouths in the league is Justin.  Justin miserably lost the first two weeks (one of those losses was against me), and he looked like he was winning this week only to get beat by one point at the last second.  I really started to feel sorry for him.  But not sorry enough to prevent me from posting this picture of him as Snuggie Jesus

He's a grump.  He deserves it.

Saturday I had a huge surprise!  Julie and Farron invited me to the comedy club for an improv show.  I, suspecting nothing, showed up expecting nothing.  However, I turned the corner and standing there was one of my dearest and bestest (I know it's not a word...shut up) friends since high school, John!  I was NOT expecting this since John normally resides in England and I see him, oh, every several years or so.  I was so happy to see him, and I never get surprised, which made it even better.   Turns out he is living in the States for the next year and has been staying with his parents in Cape Cod.  He's currently thinking about getting a job here in the city and is staying with Farron while he does some job hunting...which is perfectly fine with me since that has meant that we have been getting to hang out.  Although we make fun of him since he seems to have picked up a weird Californian (born in San Fran), Texan (he says y'all, y'all), British (been living in London), Irish (his girlfriend is from Northern Ireland) accent, it's a pleasure to have him around.  Last time I saw him was when Lauren and I went to the UK our last year of med school (see the aforementioned travel blog).

By the way, I saw a dog wearing shoes the other day.  I hear this is normal.

Say it with me now.  Ah, New York.

So what does this have to do with moonwalking, you say?  Naturally, Farron and Julie presented me with yet another great opportunity.  Julie set up a girls' night with a hodge podge of her girlfriends that consisted of Amateur Night at the Apollo Theater in Harlem.  I, being unversed in the origins of the Apollo Theater, had no idea what was in store. 

So here's what Wikipedia says

"The Apollo Theater in New York City is one of the most famous music halls in the United States, and the most famous club associated almost exclusively with African-American performers. It is listed on the National Register of Historic Places,^[2] and was the home of Showtime at the Apollo, a nationally syndicated television variety show consisting of new talent.

The Apollo grew to prominence during the Harlem Renaissance of the pre-World War II years. In 1934, it introduced its regular Amateur Night shows hosted by Ralph Cooper. Billing itself as a place "where stars are born and legends are made," the Apollo became famous for launching the careers of artists such as Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, James Brown, Diana Ross & The Supremes, Gladys Knight & the Pips, The Jackson 5, Patti LaBelle, Marvin Gaye, Luther Vandross, Stevie Wonder, Aretha Franklin, Ben E. King, Mariah Carey, The Isley Brothers, Lauryn Hill, and Sarah Vaughan. The Apollo also featured the performances of old-time vaudeville favorites like Tim Moore, Stepin Fetchit, Dewey "Pigmeat" Markham, Clinton "Dusty" Fletcher, John "Spider Bruce" Mason, and Johnny Lee, as well as younger comics like Godfrey Cambridge. One unique feature of the Apollo was "the executioner" a man with a broom who would sweep performers off the stage if the highly vocal and opinionated audiences began to call for their removal."

Amateur Night is a tradition that has carried on, and I got to experience it tonight.  First half of the show is the kids' half and my favorite part.  These kids range from 5 years old to 15 years old, and booing is not allowed during this stage.  I guess once you turn 16 life just gets tough.  Anyway, these kids were so cute and so amazing.  There was a boys hip hop dance group, numerous vocalists, and my absolute favorite a five year old cutie who could dance like Michael Jackson.  He started singing the Jackson Five's "ABC" with the tiniest little voice, and all the sudden it was on.  He was moonwalking, he was sliding on his knees, he was grabbing his crotch (but in a cute little innocent way of course).  I wanted to pick him, put him in my purse, and take him home, but I was told this is a felony.  Darn. 

The second half of the show gets brutal.  If the audience likes someone, they cheer.  If they don't, they boo.  If the boos are loud enough, the executioner comes out and takes them off stage.  If the reviews are mixed, they get to sing the rest of the song with half the audience booing them.  Brutal.  Only one girl got completely boo'd off, but she was trying to sing an old Broadway song.  With a nasal voice.  In Harlem.  Uh, no.  Everyone else was mediocre.  The girl that won absolutely gave her song every ounce she had so I am glad she won.  The experience itself was phenomenal.  If you are ever here on a Wednesday night...go.

I am certainly looking forward to my next opportunities with Farron and Julie.  On the list.  A walking ghost tour.  Yesss!  And this weekend...Atlantic City! Woo! I've never been.  Always wanted to. I get paid on Friday.  Atlantic City here we come. 

A little taste of home

Saturday night was Cherie's birthday party.  Just to remind you, Cherie is my chief resident's wife and has also been my movie buddy.  Cherie is not originally from Texas, but I certainly think she should have been a Texas girl.  She grew up in a little town in Iowa but moved to Texas where she met Jordan (my chief resident).  These two are a match made in heaven.  Cherie is a prettier female version of Jordan, and they are so cute together.  She loves Texas, and the two of them are planning to move back there once he finishes this academic year.  

That being said, I just felt like I needed to give you guys a little background here so that I could tell you why Saturday night's choice for dinner was a good pick on Cherie's part.  We went to a place called Hill Country. Although this restaurant is located in the kinda trendy, kinda posh Flatiron District, you walk in that door, and you don't feel like you are in New York anymore.  There were TONS of Longhorn fans wearing their orange proudly.  There were guys in boots and hats.  And the smell of BBQ was overwhelming.  Although I would have liked to see some smoked turkey or a stuffed potato on the menu, it was still a little taste of home.  I got the lean brisket, green bean casserole, and corn pudding.  My own little version of soul food served with a side of good ole Texas style BBQ sauce.  To top it all off, Bluebell ice cream served straight up.  I have to admit that it was a little on the expensive side. But what's new? It's New York.   I never thought I would be happy to see cowboy boots and hats, but I dunno, it was nice to have a little bit of Texas here in this sea of ethnic foods.  Oddly enough, it felt like being home, and I was happy.  There were lots of funny questions and comments about what we eat, do, and say in Texas.  Some of the people there had never heard of Bluebell and certainly never had anything like corn pudding.  It was amusing.  It didn't hurt that UT won the football game over Tech either.  Jordan is an Aggie (boo!), and he was doing his fair share of smack talking before dinner.  Boo ya.  Oh yeah.

Speaking of football, you guys would be happy to know (I'll pretend that you are) that my Fantasy Football team was the highest scoring team in Week 1, although I lost Week 2.  Boo.  I have to say...participating has been really fun, although I think I might be a little obsessed.  I am Texas girl. I like football.  What can I say?

In a New York minute...

Ok, so you had to know that I would get those lyrics into one of these blog entries at some point.  I apologize.

This particular entry has a bit of mixed feelings involved.  Let me preempt this post by saying that I DO enjoy living in NYC, and I am very glad that I live here right now. 

However...

This city can take its toll on a person at times, and I think I am just dealing with one of those times. Lately, I have been pretty grumpy.  This city is so full of people and so busy that we are all just on top of each other.  And sometimes it gets old.  You are constantly dodging people, dodging cars, dodging bikes, dodging crazy folk, dodging beggars.  Everything from grocery shopping to going to your friend's apartment is a chore.  You sometimes get sick of walking or taking 30 to 45 minutes to get anywhere.  It's expensive, and trying to find the groceries you need or the replacement screw for your dresser or an extension cord all can be daunting tasks.  I look at the middle aged women who live in this city, and they are the crankiest, foulest-mouthed residents you'll find, and I feel like I might be becoming one of them. Give me a few years, and I will be kicking at the cars, screaming at the bus driver, or getting into an altercation with another woman in Starbucks (yes, I have seen all these things happen).   Sometimes you just feel the urge to push someone out of your way or to tell them to quit being rude or to tell them to mind their own business or just tell them to quit existing. 

Deep breath.  I am working on finding my zen.  A friend at work suggested I find some sort of personal release.  He likes the gym.  I am not sure if the gym would be a release or a distress for me, but maybe I will find something.  The problem with that suggestion is that it would probably take as much effort to do this "me time" as it does anything else.  Eh, it's a work in progress, and any big move/change takes some transitioning.  I think I was so bedazzled when I first got here that I didn't really have time to be annoyed, and now it's catching up with me.  

However...

All this being said...in a New York minute, things can change.  Yes, this city is grating at times.  It can be difficult to live here.  It will take me a while to adjust.  But then I get an opportunity like the one I had tonight, and it just makes me glad I'm here.  It makes me want to put forth the effort to explore this city...to just suck it up and do what I have to do.  So what is this opportunity, you say?

I have quickly become quite the TV junkie since having DVR available to me (it's evil), and a couple of the shows that I have been avidly watching are Ellen and Oprah (it's the Farewell Season of Oprah...you should jump on this train by the way).  So I'm watching Ellen, and she starts raving about this new documentary that was showcased at Sundance called Catfish.  She makes the movie sound so appealing that I want to run out and watch the first showing of it taking place that night at midnight.  I managed to tone down the impulsivity (which is difficult for me) and wait until I could see it with a friend.  After assuring Laura that the documentary was indeed not about catfish, she agreed to go with me this evening.  It doesn't hurt that she thinks the main protagonist is hot, but I digress.   

She and I both loved it.   It is only playing in select theatres (which was perk #1), but if it is playing at a theatre near you, please check it out.  It is just so bizarre and so heartbreaking.  Do not read the reviews or anything else about it because it might get spoiled for you.  The best thing to do is to go see it without really knowing more than what I am going to tell you now.  I will only say so much as it is a real documentary about an NYU filmmaker's little brother who gets caught up with a family that he essentially meets online, including one of the daughters in the family with whom he starts a relationship.  The movie wraps it up after he eventually goes to meet this family in person.  Not only did Laura and I both love the film, but an added bonus was that the director (who is also the roommate of both the filmaker and his little brother) was actually at the film, as was the producer and one of the characters in the movie.  All of them were there to participate in a Q&A session following the screening, which allowed us to get even more insight into the film straight from the mouths of the people who made it. 

Can you see why this makes me feel okay about being here again?  I would have most likely not had an opportunity like this otherwise.  This, of course, is only one example, but sometimes you just need a little morale booster.  This was mine tonight.  Take it from me.  See the movie if you can.  If you hate it, then you can hate me and it would be okay.  But do it anyway...

These are the filmmakers.  The protagnoist (Nev) is on the left, his brother Rel is in the middle, and their friend Henry, the director and also a filmmaker, is on the right (he is the one that we saw at the screening).

Bad, Bad Blogger!

I promise, promise, promise to be better about posting once things calm down a bit.  Between moving and having company (yay!), there hasn't been much time.  However, I always have posts going on in my head so don't feel completely forsaken.  It's really just a matter of sitting down and writing them.  I have had several posts in the works so now I just have catching up to do.

An idea that popped into my head was sharing with you a...ahem..."hypothetical" clinic.  This " hypothetical" place is like living through an episode of Seinfeld.  Everyone is neurotic and quite frankly just a little crazy.  To begin with, there is

Nurse X

Nurse X has been a nurse for 40 some odd years, a fact which she reminds everyone almost every single day.  She is, first and foremost, LOUD.  If you are in the mere vicinity of her, she can be heard above all else.  Nurse X has this habit of repeating herself.  Over and over and over and over.  Somewhere in her 40 years of being a nurse, she must have forgotten exactly what it is that nurses do because she does - to be blunt - absolutely nothing.  She has had many a picture taken of her sleeping in the nurses station, and if she is asked to do anything beyond that by any of the residents, someone gets an earful.  There are so many things I could tell you about her, but one of her most prominent (and most excrutiatingly embarrassing) habits that she has is to say things that are entirely politically incorrect.  Example: When a patient comes into the clinic that is in a wheelchair, she will write in bright orange pencil "PLEASE SEE PATIENT.  PATIENT IN WHEELCHAIR."  This is not so bad, but she extrapolates this to patient's with special needs. In bright orange pencil/crayon, "PLEASE SEE PATIENT.  PATIENT IS A RETARD."  Then she will come into the resident room and loudly (of course) say "Doctors, you need to see this patient.  He's a retard, and he's going to act out."  This is not a joke.  If anyone reprimands her in any way, they will get an earful of threats from calling the union to calling the mayor to calling Obama.  She has several nicknames amongst the other staff including Devil Lady, Dragon Woman, and some that I cannot put into this blog.

Nurse Y
Nurse Y is extremely talented.  Oh yes.  Very, very talented.  What is her talent, you may ask?  She has a unique ability to walk into a patient room when the resdient has JUST finished and ask if she can help.  How she is able to do this, I am not sure.  She also likes to ask questions that are impossible to answer.  Examples: "Doctor, how many patients do you think will show up today?"  Not sure.  "Doctor, is the other doctor done with his procedure in the other room?"  Couldn't tell you.  Etcetera.  The other day she argued with a resident because he ordered precautionary Hep C/HIV tests before starting him on a medicine that compromises the immune system (since these diseases already compromise the immune system).  She didn't understand why this resident would order these tests for "such a nice man."  Uh, whoa.  First, it is just precautionary and a prudent thing to do for both the patient and the doctor.  Second, having HIV or Hep C does not make someone any less of a nice person.  If you have any experience in the health field (which she does), you would know that there are all sorts of people from all demographics and in all stages of life that have these diseases for one reason or another.  How are these people nurses?

Clerk A
Clerk A is quite quirky.  She visits frequently in the residents' room because she makes frequent trips to the bathroom, and the ghetto bathroom key (which resembles a bathroom key from a truck stop since it has a large wooden block attached to it) is in the room.  During these visits, she usually complains about Nurse X, often remarking that she grew in Spanish Harlem and could hire someone to kill Nurse X.  In fact, there have been several instances where she alluded to her connections in Spanish Harlem.  There are also usually mini lectures on how to be successful in life.  Great stuff.

Medical Assistant B
Medical Assistant B is a Jamaican gentleman who does varying jobs around the clinic.  He usually does these things while singing random songs at the top of his lungs.  He doesn't talk much other than to directly and gruffly ask questions or to gripe.  Usually, these gripes don't make a lot of sense and often are regarding something that would have already been addressed with him, but like Nurse X he likes to repeat himself over and over and over.

Doctor N
Doctor N is an attending. He is fairly elderly and has worked at this clinic for many years.  He has been semi-retired for quite some time.  He works one day out of the week, and it takes some getting used to his style.  Example: he will arrive at the clinic and bust into the patient rooms.  He will subsequently start barking at the resident or the patient at very loud volumes because the majority of the time he has his iPod on and his earphones in his ears.  He, like Nurse X, has some problems with being politically correct.  There are numerous stories that attest to this fact.  1) He recently walked into a room where a resident was seeing two teenage albino patients.  He walked in, look around, loudly stated "there are albinos in here!" and then walked out.  2) He came into a colleague's room while he was seeing another patient who had a condition that is rarely and softly associated with HIV.  He wrote HIV down on the paper bed cover, pointed at it, and whispered quite loudly, "The patient has this."  Needless to say, this patient did not return to the clinic.  He has many other humorous habits that cannot be described in this blog.  Afterall, it's hypothetical, right?

Oh, and speaking of the albinos...Nurse X, who has been in dermatology for 30 some odd years, asked one of the residents the other day why black women are adopting white children.  This came, mind you, after the family with the albino children had left the clinic.  I will let you piece that together. 

Nurse Z
Nurse Z is pretty friendly and isn't so bad.  She is just kind of random, and her broken English is hard to understand.  When introducing someone, she might remark with "This is Dr. So-in-So.  She sometimes doens't wear earings."  Ooo-kay.

Guys, there are so many other great characters in this hypothetical clinic that there is just too much to write. And frankly, it probably isn't wise to divulge most of it in a public, written forum.  But there you have it.  Just a taste.  If I can think of some more, I will certainly add them in there.

I have many more things to write about, but I obviously can't do it all in one sitting.  Again, sorry to be such a naughty unreliable blogger.  I will be better in the future. Cross my heart...