Happy Birthday to Me

That’s right. Today’s the day. It only comes once a year. Fortunately, I’m still at an age where birthdays are an excuse for out of control fun and a lot of naughty behavior, although watching your youth further recede into the distance is never a good feeling. So what’s the plan? Bartok is arriving from DC yet again, totally breaking her bi-annual visit rule (we might die, link here for our previous adventures). Her arrival can be compared to having Santa Claus sled by twice in one season as Bartok was just in New York over the fourth of July. Basically, we’re going to stop being the irresponsible freeloading party crashing alcoholics we always are and instead are going to actually host – that’s right HOST my party at my close friend T’s SoHo loft. Why there? Because it’s significantly larger than my living room which can barely fit an extra five fold-out chairs. Plus Mr. T’s pad has a much better stereo and ambient lighting system. I’m really into ambient lighting and at my apartment the only tools I have to work with are the stove and oven light. That’s just not as fun as professional dimmers.

Group and personalized email and text invitations have been sent out to mine as well as Mr. T’s friends. The confirmed count at this moment is about fifty – but this is New York, this number could quadruple or disintrigrate to twelve at a moments notice depending on how the Manhattan party Gods are feeling. The sky got all the rain out of its system yesterday, so bad weather shouldn’t deter people from coming out. Isn’t this weather intolerable? I think we should stop calling the warm season in Manhattan “summer” and refer to it instead as “the monsoon.” I’m seriously thinking of investing in some yellow rubber duck boots and one of those absurdly large umbrellas that people steal from hotels.

So, I’ve decided the most responsible thing to do as co-hostesses of this party is for Bartok and I and my fabulous Asian roommate to get completely shit-faced the three of us before the first guest arrives at 9 p.m. I mean, how could it possibly be a bad night with us pre-drunken running around and making merry. The guests, cake, and perhaps gifts just become an added bonus. I also plan on a hugging reward system for anyone who brings liquor. I also plan on one of us monopolizing the stereo the entire night (music control being the biggest perk of the house party). That means Euro house trash, my nineties favorites, T’s Brazilian stuff, and inevitably a teeny bit of Kylie Minogue.

My preparation list so far looks something like this:

1. A bottle of vodka too big to carry (preferably something cheap, Svedka or Finlandia would be great. Perk of cheap vodka: it goes down easy!!!)

2. A similarly large bottle of Bacardi (I don’t think the euros in attendance will be able to live with their Cuba Libras.)

3. Mixers: OJ, cranberry, tonic, sprite, coke, anything else more creative that I can find. Pineapple would be swell.

4. The men’s favorites: Jack and Rum.

5. Limes (thanks to Mr. T for reminding me of this one)

6. Ice (yeah, how we’re going to get all of this to T’s house in one cab ride remains a mystery)

7. The cake – this is a coffee and chocolate ice cream cake with health bars in it. Is this gourmet? No. But I really have no issues with having a 5-year old flavor cake. It’s MY birthday and I want ice cream!

8. Beer – I’m not supplying a lot. If you wanna sip on Buds all night that’s your prerogative.

9. Snacks? I always feel grossed out by chips and pretzels and cheese doodles at parties. A lot of germs live in those bowels with an abnormal amount of fingertips passing through. Plus that kind of snack set up always reminds me of really awkward high school dances. So the snacks aren’t happening. Bartok and I have decided to go with something more gourmet like grapes. This whole party is about us pretending to be responsible adults. Hopefully we won’t get too drunk and start doing cartwheels like we did the last time we were left unsupervised at a Manhattan apartment with open space.

Anyone else have any other suggestions? Like a net to catch people when they get too rowdy or a shovel to knock people out? You should all feel free to let me know.

Sharing and Caring

Whether you’ve entered into the ominous ‘live-in’ relationship or on what I call ‘the cheater’s live-in relationship’ i.e. the long distance relationship, where you cohabitate during prescheduled visiting hours, you and your significant other will inevitably be forced to partake in some kindergarten-spirited sharing. Since you’re most likely fantasizing about how yummy your significant other will look lathered up in whip cream while packing your suitcase, it’s no real surprise that you usually forget stuff on visits (face creams, razors, cell phone chargers and toothpaste for example, never make it into your bag). Upon arrival, you turn to your partner to supply these missing items. For me, here’s what constitutes Barney-approved sharing versus crossing the line creepy.

Okay to Share:

1. Hairbrushes and Combs: You love each other’s hair; you’re constantly caressing it, smelling it, tugging on it. And what’s the danger? If one of you has lice, you’d have already infested each other by now to the point where your lice families are celebrating the birth of great grandchildren. Communal use of the hairbrush is OK by me.

2. Socks: I’m prefacing this by clarifying that I mean ‘clean socks.’ When packing for conjugal visits, I often focus so much on lingerie and skimpy dresses that practical items like socks get overlooked entirely. When I want to hit up the gym and realize there are critical gaps in my working out wardrobe, my significant other’s oversize socks work just fine.

3. Hairdryer: Who needs to be possessive over a hairdryer? I like guys with longish hair (see definition here) and the practical side of such a preference is that they often need to mechanically dry their thick, manly locks before hurrying off to work in the morning. I’m always happy to sit back and watch this fascinating male grooming ritual. If they use hair products such as gel the entertainment level increases considerably.

4. Beverages: You’re lip-locked twenty percent of your time together anyway – so what’s a little mixed saliva on a straw? Granted, at restaurants or out with other people, it’s not so classy. But when enjoying a slurpie at the beach, I vote share.

5. Sun block: He never carries any and squints in confusion at the concept of ‘a sunburn’ or ‘skin cancer.’ So unless you want a boyfriend that looks like a boiled lobster, I say sharing is the way to go. (On a side note: Has anyone ever seen a man buy sun block, EVER? I’m asking my local Duane Reade employee – I doubt such a purchase has ever occurred.)

6. His Clothes: We love wearing his boxers and oversize t-shirts. They smell like him and unlike our corset-tight tank tops, are so roomy we actually feel comfortable pigging out on the various boy junk food in his fridge. If he can fit into your comfortable clothes…that’s just weird.

7. Sunglasses: A friend of mine has a stolen pair of shades from every man she’s ever dated. It’s like a reduced, one time alimony payment / a fashion scrapbook of past loves. Whenever she puts on a pair we’ll be like, “Oh, love those Armani. They were Alex’s, right?” Besides, dark man glasses only make a woman look more powerful and mysterious.

So now that we’ve explored some of the items that it’s okay for lovers to commune-style share, let’s examine the flip side of the coin.

NOT Okay to Share

1. Toothpaste: Even men who seem harmless and refuse to kill bugs menacingly destroy the life of your toothpaste tube. First off, they throttle the thing instead of politely squeezing from the established corner of your choice. Secondly, they force enough toothpaste out of the tube for an army of dentists and their assistants. They then use a fraction of this amount, and then irritatingly attempt to close the toothpaste lid, which is now flooded in a thick, chunk-like substance stickier than a four-year-olds’ hands. I cringe, shudder, then scream at the sight of such a toothpaste corpse in my bathroom and refuse to touch it without the aid of latex gloves.

2. Toothbrush: The ‘You’re lip-locked twenty percent of your time together anyway’ excuse does NOT apply to toothbrushes as it does to straws. Toothbrushes are a serious oral hygiene tool that have ONE designated user. They promote fresh breath and sanitary behavior. For me, if you’re sharing such a private tool you might as well lick each other’s teeth clean. No thank you.

3. My Favorite Pillow: I’ve made it clear which pillow it is; it’s the absurdly expensive fluffy one I splurged on during a weak moment at Mattress World. I compensate for the whacked amount of money I spent on the thing with unrelenting adoration and emotional dependency for its downy texture. It’s become the adult equivalent of my childhood ‘blankie’ and sleeping doesn’t feel satisfying without it. Sharing is not going to happen.

4. My Delicious Entrée: Let’s joyfully pick at each other’s appetizers and desserts – desserts were created to be shared. But my main course is MINE. I should not be punished for my partner’s inability to choose his own eatable entrée. The fact that I’m smart enough to LISTEN to the waiter’s specials announcement and order accordingly while my significant other is honed in on the football match in the background, doesn’t imply that I should share my delectable main course with the less competent chooser. Take your fork and back off.

5. Expensive Hair Products: Stuff purchased at CVS or Duane Reade is fine for my guy to lather up in. Pantene Pro V, Frieda’s Blonde collection and L’Oreal are all in my shower for him. Take a silver dollar size of product and wash away. Anything salon purchased however, i.e. products with names you can’t pronounce (Biolage, Kerestase, Keihls), products with French on them, and products that are the international-sounding names of gay man (Frederic Fekkai, Ted Gibson, Louis Licari), are OFF limits. Using fist-size glops of these products is the financial equivalent of burning twenty dollar bills with a set of matches. Don’t do it unless you want us to cry.

6. My Bathroom in General: Sharing the bathroom area during visits is understandable and inevitable, especially because let’s face it – who can afford a two bathroom apartment in Manhattan? If pursuing a ‘live-in’ relationship however, I’m overtly certain it would fail if I shared my bathroom area with a man for an extended amount of time. I think separate watering holes are in fact, one of the foundational keys to all successful relationships.



Maybe that’s why so many couples move to Brooklyn …

Model Behavior’s Ten Tips for Apartment Hunting in NYC

I have many friends moving to glorious nyc this summer and I thought this would be a good idea in general. Everyone feel free to add on!


1. Be in New York. You cannot do this from your car/cell phone/summer vacation spot/parents house/California/New England. This process is more cutthroat than many ancient Japanese sports. Be prepared to be aggressive, ruthless and fast.

2. Avoid using a broker. Why? Because it’s liked being screwed repeatedly in the ass (sorry). You must pay them half a year’s rent (or more!) and we’re talking New York level rents here people. It’s completely feasible to find a rental on your own without professional help (I mean, do you need a travel agent to help you book an airline ticket on Expedia? Right, didn’t think so.)

3. If you think you want a doorman building go to the rental office/leasing center inside the building you’re interested in – no agent necessary and in turn, no fee necessary. It’s FREE.

Note: Stalking/harassing leasing office officials about when certain units become available is entirely acceptable. I called the rental agent in my building everyday for three weeks straight! And after a year and a half living there he’s not even avoiding me in the elevators anymore. If you know you want to live in a certain building be persistent. Insist on filling out and submitting an application – even if no units are available yet. That way when they are, you’re already at the top of the list.

If you want a non-doorman building search the web, places like Craigslist etc. (There are billions of these sites, just google ‘em). I personally know people who’ve had success with Craigslist. Word of advice on any of these sites: Ignore any post older than three hours. I guarantee you the apartment is already gone.

4. Make a REALISTIC budget (which basically in New York means an absurdly painful budget). This will be more useful to you when apartment hunting then repeating the mantra “I need an $800 apartment, I need $800 apartment” like a schizophrenic as you helplessly wander the city streets. In Manhattan, it ain't gonna happen. Just get on the evil real estate situation bandwagon and cry about the injustice of it all (thank you rent control) at a later date. You need to go out there with a realistic sense of what you can get for your money.

5. Anything you see on the web that looks too good to be true is. These are usually agency ploys. They’re trying to get you to call them so a conversation can ensure in which the devilish agent coos, “Oh oops. That twelve hundred dollar a month SoHo penthouse loft JUST went to someone else. We were JUST going to take the listing down. But I have a forty five hundred one bedroom in the same block. You have to see it!” Twist your face in disgust and hang up.

6. Be prepared to take the first place you see. If it doesn’t smell, has a decent window, isn’t on top of a Chinese restaurant and looks remotely livable/survivable for whatever time frame you’re looking at, take it! I like to envision carrying groceries into the apartment to test its day to day convenience scale. Think about how you’ll do your laundry if there are no units in the building. Think about how you’ll get your packages if there’s no doorman and the mailbox slots aren’t even big enough to fit a super tampon. Are you willing to spend your Saturdays at the Korean laundromat / fighting crowds at the post office? Weigh these options before even visiting a unit so you are ready to make a superhuman fast decision. Oh- and always always always ask if there’s ever been bed bugs. I’d never heard of these little suckers until recently. Apparently they’re a city-wide phenomena and have wiggled their way into even the nicest buildings! Cleanliness has nothing to do with infestations!

7. Act immediately! The New York housing market does not allow you to think, analyze, get a coffee, mull it over with your cat or call your mom for advice. You gotta say yes NOW. Give the deposit, get that certified check, and literally RUN because I guarantee you the competition is. If you walk away from a rental nine times out of ten it will be gone the next day (if not later that afternoon). Every second counts and until you hand them your money you’re homeless. P.S. There is no such thing as a “verbal agreement.” This isn’t third grade. This is a major city where people walk over other human beings passed out on the sidewalk on a daily basis and push and shove one another just to be the first to enter the subway every morning rush hour. You will be betrayed!

8. Get creative! My favorite way to save money (especially if you’re looking for a two bedroom but can only afford a one) is to build fake walls. Ask buildings if they allow walls and which wall companies they have contracts with. My wall came at an extremely reasonable cost (with a $500 deposit that I’ll get back) and turned my outrageously unaffordable one bedroom into a slightly less outrageously unaffordable two bedroom I could share with a roommate. The wall has a door with lock and looks completely organic to the unit. No one even knows it’s fake! It’s my fun dirty secret.

9. Location, location, location. Be where’s convenient for you. Are you the kind of person who has to be able to walk to work? Are you a struggling artist who must live in Greenwich Village, a dedicated hipster who loves the Lower East Side or a pretentious jackass who must reside on Park or Lex. Make it happen. A super fancy HUGE place in Jersey City with a walk-in closet will only make you happy for the three days you spend unpacking your stuff. Be near where you gotta be to be you (did that make sense?). Statistic: people who have over a twenty minute commute to work are something like ninety percent more prone to depression. Mull that over.

10. You want a place with air conditioning. You want a place with windows. You also want a place where your land lord is nearby so when everything in the apartment breaks you can make them fix it. If the land lord lives in Florida it ain't good news. At some point your heater will spontaneously combust/your dishwasher will flood and you’ll want to take advantage of your renter’s rights and demand the owner’s presence to help deal with every daily crisis. As a renter you’re flushing valuable money you could be investing down the toilet every month. The only benefit is that all this stuff isn’t your problem, so take advantage of it!

Feel free to add your two cents!