This is part 2 of my Blogher experience as recorded in my journal and I would recommend that you read part one first so that this part would make sense but honestly I don’t think that’s going to help either way.
Me: Take a right on Houston Street.
Everyone else in New York: You mean “Howston Street?”
me: No, I don’t fucking mean “Howston Street”. It’s pronounced Houston. I’m FROM there.
Everyone else in New York: We know but we’ve been mispronouncing it for years just to fuck with you people. Oh look! It’s the Empeer State Bwilding.
me: Let me out of this taxi.
You know what should be on the job description of taxi drivers? Knowing where shit is. It’s Times Square, dude. Eventually someone’s gonna want to go there. Program that shit into your GPS.
This is what happens when I try to call Kristen of Mommy Needs a Cocktail to come sit with me because I can’t leave my room:
I totally want to show this to everybody but I can’t because I can’t leave my room. Thanks, anxiety disorder. You’re ruining it for everyone.
Went to the Voices of the Year Gala and there was a naked picture of me in the lobby, which sounds kinda sexy until I mention that I was holding a plunger and that it’s named “Psycho”. Hard to argue with that one. Then I sat in a corner with an antique Smith-Corona typing psychic poetry for people because I was promised free drinks. The poems were really less poems and more just extra sentences in case you needed one and started out with stuff like “Your eyes explode like roman candles in a starry night. Also? Nice boobs” and by the end of the night they had degenerated into “I’m tooo drun_k to tyype. MY fin_ggers hurrt. Wheres the comma?”
Also, my friend Jordan came to ask if I needed anything and I said I’d like a cocktail but she’s Mormon so she’s never ordered a drink before so the bartender just gave her soda water and she was all “No, add something alcoholic” and he’s all “What kind of alcohol?” and she’s like “I don’t know. The alcoholic kind” and I don’t know what he put in it but from the taste I’m assuming it was rubbing alcohol but I pretended like it was really delicious because if that shit keeps her out of heaven I wanted her to at least feel like it was worth it. And this is why you don’t let Mormons get cocktails for you. Because they aren’t good at it and also because God might think you’re forcing them to sin and then you end up in hell, which is probably filled with a giant bar but only Mormons are allowed to mix the drinks so you end up drinking turpentine-coladas for eternity and also your hair is made of snakes.
Went to the New York Library with Alice so that we could hunt for ghosts but it took awhile to get in because we couldn’t figure out how doors work. True story. Then we got in and they searched our bags because I guess there are a lot of shootings that go down in the library? We asked a librarian where we needed to go to see where Ghostbusters was filmed and she seemed flustered and told us that most people want to know where the Sex and the City scenes were shot.
me: How gauche. We’re much too sophisticated for that. Where was Slimer captured?
Librarian: I…let me look that up for you.
me: Have you ever seen any ghosts in the library?
Librarian: Well, I only work from 1 to 4 on Thursdays and Fridays.
me: Ah. So maybe they work on different hours.
Alice: Actually, I looked this place up on the internet and couldn’t find anything about this place being haunted.
me: No, I’m fairly certain Ghostbusters was a documentary.
Then we explored the library and we didn’t see any ghosts but we did see the “Quiet Zone” which was unnerving and looks like a lot of people in time-out. Then we considered how sad it was that no one had ever been murdered there because that would make the building so much more fascinating and we thought about murdering someone in the bathroom just to help out the library but we decided not to because it’s illegal and also because we both have poor upper-body strength. Then I took a picture of Alice in the library and we totally got a ghost in the picture who was so real that you couldn’t even tell that she was a ghost.
So yeah, it was pretty bad-ass.
Went to a hipster hotel coffee bar because I needed a diet coke. Barista with mutton-chops and a beret was all “Oh. We don’t do that here” like I’d just asked if I where they do the illegal dog fights. Then I pointed out that there was “soda” on the menu and he was all “That’s sparkling Italian soda. We don’t do diet coke” and I just stood there staring at him and Alice gave me this look like “Is there going to be a problem here? Because I will run away if so” and Mutton-Chops was all “You want the sparkling Italian soda. Trust me” and I was all “Are you trying to save me from being too pedestrian? Because I don’t need your pity“. But then I paid $5 for a sparkling Italian soda because I was thirsty. BUT THEN(!) Alice and I were wandering the halls of the hipster hotel and there was a cart fucking FILLED with diet cokes and I was all “You have GOT to be shitting me” and so I stole them because seriously? Not cool, hipsters. But then it turns out that you have to have an old-fashioned bottle opener to open the damn things so I ended up just staring at them for two days like they were installation art. Which is probably what hipsters do with them too, now that I think about it.
Part 3 comes out tomorrow unless I get distracted by somethi
139 thoughts on “Stop being an asshole, New York”
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Now I’m too scared to take a shower. I’ll direct my colleagues’ complaints to you, ok?
Great. Now I want Kristen’s number just so I can have that display on my phone. And I don’t even know her. So it would be really weird for me to call her.
–>Can you come visit me in Virginia? We’re scorpion-free and diet-coke full. I can’t comment on zombies though.
I never really wanted to go to BlogHer but I would love to go with you. It sounds like so much more fun. Also, if you get the right kind of Mormons they TOTALLY know how to mix a drink, as long as you don’t ask them on Sunday. Trust me, I’ve lived in Utah my whole life. All we have here are Mormons. And spiders. And white people. That’s it, though.
Damn it, it is HOUSTON!!!! Living here totally gives us the upper hand in knowing how it’s pronounced!
P.S. – I totally had that argument with a group of New Yorkers the last I was there. And my cabby tried to argue with me too…I won!
That’s what it says on my phone when I call my husband. Accept it says “Jared” instead of “Kristen” and it’s not ironic or accidental.
Can I just be you when I grow up? I mean obviously mostly because you are hilarious and sassy and uncouth while also being a lovely person, but also because you look good in a towel-turban. Now THAT is talent.
I had never thought of the possibilities of hell being screwed up by bartenders. This has ruined my day.
I only lived in Houston for about 7 years, eons ago, and I’m STILL majorly offended that New Yorkers pronounce the damn street wrong. Didn’t they even ever hear of Sam Houston, for heaven’s sake? much less the fourth largest city in the damn country! This is why the rest of New York State wants to split off from the City and make them be their own silly country. (http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/12/30/on-the-road-should-new-york-state-be-split/)
I’ll remember your advice the next time I’m near Rodeo Drive.
Oh. “own silly STATE” that should be. Carry on.
Dude. You can open that shit with lighter. you cannot tell me that you couldn’t find some hillbilly white girl (like myself) that knew how to open a bottle with a lighter. Where in the hell are your survival skillz? *sigh*
I just want to know if you got to keep that sexy ass pink typewriter. Maybe it’s just because I read Naked Lunch recently, but I really want to know what kind of bug it turns in to.
I REALLY wanna meet someone with mutton-chops just so I can call him Mutton-Chops.
I once programmed my sister’s phone to say ‘my sex slave’ when dialing her husband…it took her almost a week to finally notice!
And? (just because I haven’t stalked your blog *enough* today 😉 ) My mother in law LOVED those little Coke bottles, she had a Coke out of one every morning for breakfast, and I can remember her doing this when we lived in Houston with them. She’d done it since DH and all his SIX sibs were babies, and corrupted them all to love soda for breakfast. Can you still get those in Houston? We might have to fly down for some, in memory of MIL 🙂
Your description of hell sounds very, very accurate. I should probably be nicer to Mormons so that when I’m there, they’ll make me decent drinks.
Oh god! Those hipsters were SO hip. I couldn’t tell if they coordinated their Great Gatsby outfits or if they just all showed up to work looking that way.
I just wasted four minutes trying to make my thumb look like yours does while holding the diet coke bottle, and my thumb simply will not make that angle. It’s weird. I wish I could show you what mine does when I try to do it. It’s just a no-go.
Also: People from Texas do not get to complain about mispronunciation. I heard people in Austin call Guadalupe street Guadaloop street. Not cool, Tay-has.
I would have punched barista mutton-chops. You don’t really hear about people having mutton chops much anymore. I think I will try and use it in sentences today at work and see how that goes.
The phone number… oh my God. Think of the traffic her site would get with that title.
Oh god, was it Birch Coffee? Cuz they charged me like 4 dollars for an herbal tea once. I felt so ripped off that I stole a book from their upstairs library. But the books were free to take, so I guess it wasn’t so much “stealing” as me pretend-taking revenge. Also, it’s attached to the Gershwin Hotel which looks like it is a bad acid trip.
New York can’t stop. Sorry, Jenny. Every time I go back home, I’m reminded of this. When I left the conference, my taxi driver decided to go through Times Square too. Apparently they love jacking up the meter more than being stuck in pointless traffic.
I live in Massachusetts, and it’s taken me awhile to say all of their stupid words correctly. Worcester is not “Wor ches ter” – it’s Wuhster. I guess the moral is, there are assholes everywhere.
Part 1 and now Part 2… It seemed all very entertaining and funny… until I got to the part about the library. It’s Ghostbusters. Not Ghost Busters. And normally, I so wouldn’t care, but it is my favorite movie of all time so it’s totally sticking in my crawl. Crawl? Is that the right word or is it craw. Well whichever, that’s where it is. Stuck there.
As your final piece of psychic poetry, I will attest that you only became more ragingly beautiful & coherent as the night wore on.
Or maybe I had too many Mormon cocktails, too.
I loved how earnest the librarian was. She so wanted to help! And didn’t laugh even a little when you asked about how haunted it is.
Whereas I was snorting helplessly during this entire exchange.
I believe we also decided that the building was not in fact air-conditioned at all but was just one enormous cold spot, from all the souls loitering about. FOR THE RECORD.
Mormon cocktails, Ghosts, Naked pictures with hardware, attempted murder, theft, and forced labor (typing). This isn’t NYC it’s ” Level Three of Dante’s Inferno” -Gluttony.
For most of my life I thought “Houston (How-ston) St.” was spelled differently than “Houston (You-ston)” and said something to that effect to my mother when we were moving me into my dorm and she told me they weren’t. I then spent 20 minutes spelling them both in my head over and over because my entire perception of reality had just been shattered.
new reader here. LOVING you, bee tee double you. you’re hilarity!
If New Yorkers weren’t assholes, they’d have no identity. Bostonians and Jersians also throw W’s into every word, so the accent isn’t even that disctinctive; besides both of those places along with Nevada have mobsters, hookers, drugs, libraries and museums… but only Jersey has pizza that’s worth a damn; and none of those other places would fool you into paying so much for Italian sparkling soda and then torture you with flip-top Diet Coke bottles. Is that place vying to be named in the Hotel California remake?
Now I know…do NOT let mormons get me drinks and if I do write down exactly what I want.
When I tweet/facebook while drinking, my posts seem familiar to yours. I am usually pouring my own wine, though. I would never dream of tweeting etc. from Utah. Their liquor stores (if you can call them that) close at 7pm and you have to have a membership to drink at a restaurant. Plus order food. Once I asked a waitress if I had to eat the food or just order the food. This question had apparently never come up before so she made a legal decision that I could order food, a glass of wine and not eat the food. Which is exactly what I did. Which made all the staff of the restaurant stare at me searching for a scarlet A, or maybe they just prayed for me.
Okay, I wish I had spent time with you while in New York City! Also? I need to see a picture of your Mom please…..because you said I look like her, but you also said she’s hot so not to worry. But hot at a Mom’s age and hot at MY age are so very different. So, yes, please send photo. Stat.
While you were typing my “poem” I was totally going to ask for a pitcher from the bartender to make yours and their lives way easier, but they probably would have laughed at me and I would have had to hurt them. Since you needed your booze refills, I couldn’t risk that for you. Just know, I was *there* for you. Kind of.
Houston the city and Houston the street are actually named after two different guys, so technically both pronunciations are correct. Well, as far we know. To resolve it once and for all, we’d need a time machine so we could go back and ask them both how to say their names correctly. New York and Texas should really get going on that already.
Probably the best BlogHer recaps I’ve read so far!
you know, that pony tail confidence hair kind of gives you an angelina jolie thing.
your poetry would have made the trip worth while, had i but known. sigh. alas.
If I had known about the tragedy of having unopened diet cokes, I would have shown you how to open it with the edge of a table and the heel of your hand. I’m Canadian, they teach us how to open beer bottles without a can opener as a teenage rite of passage.
Wanting a cock. Isn’t there an APP for that?
Next time, grab one of those hipsters by the belt loop on their skinny jeans, pull ’em over to you, tell them to “Say ahh” and open that Diet Coke on their parentally-paid, orthodontically-perfected front teeth. Then run. Because I’m pretty sure that’s worse than carrying a concealed weapon in Canada.
Stephenie Meyer is going to be really pissed at you for damning that Mormon. You should probably find a way to make it up to her. Like making a pilgrimage to Forks. That would probably work.
I like that you were too distracted to finish the word ‘somethi’
DAMN! Now I’m distracted
Don’t leave me hanging. What did you think of the Italian soda? It’s my new favorite thing that I just found and my husband has never heard of it and thinks I’m crazy because of how much I rave about the Italian sodas.
If you like Turpentine Colada’s, getting caught in the rain….
Doesn’t that Italian soda taste like piss?
You manage to make the worst of days better and make me laugh out loud in my little lonely office cube in a room full of people I love to work with…. most of the time. THANK YOU 🙂 so ready to read part 3.
Maybe if Kristen hadn’t had so much cock, she wouldn’t need a cocktail.
Or not, cause I’m not getting any and I still want a cocktail.
You look so sad sitting there with that busted ass typewriter.
I just read through all the comments and completely forgot what I was going to say. Oh, wait! I had completely forgotten that the library was even in the Sex and the City movie. You mean that librarian didn’t know about the whole Improv Everywhere re-enactment thing? I would think that would have generated a lot more buzz in the Ghostbusters nostalgia arena. Weird. They should totally hire me because I would have known the answer to your questions. Booyah!
Mommy needs a cock….now that is fucking classic!
Haha, the whole Mormon paragraph had me laughing to the point of tears. As a former Mormon, I still have no idea how to order a drink. And it’s awkward.
Single Dad Laughing
Next time, you need to five-finger the bottle opener, too. Or just but the top off and drink it with a straw.
Slimer …. I love it. And didn’t the lions in front get busted out of by Zhoul’s dogs?
I am so going to the next BlogHer, even if it fucking kills me, which it probably will because it takes everything I’ve got just to put a sock on, and usually it ends up on my ear.
Is that a full size Coke bottle because if it is then you’re HUGE and no wonder the librarian didn’t want to show you where the ghosts were because if you remember correctly in Ghostbusters that XUL could take any form and what better form to take at Blogher then to be a GIANT BLOGGESS?
Right. I can’t think of another one, either.
I totally want to do BlogHer with you next year.
Haikus for you. Kinda like drunk poetry, except I’m not drunk. Yet.
When at Blogher con,
One must drink, kill hipsters, and
Party in bathrooms
I ask, why the bottlecaps?
Mormons can’t make drinks,
But Ghostbusters is fact, and
We all need a cock.
I am all kinds of over that phone call….you can’t even make that shit up Jenny. Awesome. Also, I’d like to note that getting into a Cab in London is probably a much better experience, cos not only do they know where the hell Piccadilly Circus actually is, but they know EVERY GODDAMN STREET IN LONDON NO JOKE cos they have to pass a super tough exam called The Knowledge and it takes them like at least 2-3 years OR LONGER to study for that shit and pass. I’m not even lying. They totally have to be able to drive WITHOUT GPS.
Respect London Cabbies. Respect.
Oh my god! Following on from Snarkier Than You’s comment, you should make a pilgrimage to Forks, to appease that woman, and then while you’re there, you should glitter people, and then run screaming “VAMPIRES! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!” just to see what happens.
Also, it would be an awesome place to stage a Zombie Invasion, and people would see it on the news and be all “Huh? Forks has vampires. Not zombies” And teenage girls and mothers who should know better everywhere would be totally confused.
Actually, you can’t go to Forks to throw glitter at people, I’m going to Forks to throw glitter at people. You’re definitely invited for the zombie invasion though.
Would zombies eat vampires? And if not, would glitter protect us from zombies, because they’d THINK we were vampires? Zombies must have hated all those sequins in the 60’s and 70’s. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a girl wearing sequins get attacked by zombies. This calls for more extensive research. Maybe a government grant? Genius. Do you think they’d fund an international trip to Forks?
It would be FOR SCIENCE. This is important work.
Maybe I should write to Stephanie Meyer and see if she’d be willing to fund this kind of ground breaking research. Possibly won’t mention cocktails though. Or the part were I try and find out if zombies and vampires could breed. I’m guessing not, but you have to be thorough FOR SCIENCE. Maybe if they got married first, it would be ok. Would that even be legal? If gays can’t marry, I’m guessing the government would not be for a zombie/vampire union. These people have issues. There are much more important things to worry about than inter-supernatural-species marriage.
What if zombies and vampires COULD breed? Would sequins have any effect?
I have to go. I need to get started on my fundraising campaign. I can’t waste another minute! I need to get started before they BREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED!!!!!!!!!!!
Enjoy your day!
Houston Street isn’t named for Sam Houston, I mean come on, would New Yorkers really have named a major street for a Southerner? No we would not have.
It’s named for some old dead New Yorker whose name I can’t remember. I could look it up on Wikipedia in an attempt to hide my stupidity but I’m not going to because I think you all will trust me more if I own up to this.
Anyway that’s why the street isn’t pronounced like the city. We’re not pronouncing it wrong and you’re not pronouncing it wrong.
you’re a fucking riot, lawson. fucking RIOT.
so do you prefer the confidence ponytail or confidence wig?
i’ll see you in san diego. you can hide at my house in my bathroom.
Apropos of Sono’s comment, for years I thought there was both a river Temz and a river Thames (Sames) in London, England. Oh, and Mesina is not shitting you about The Knowledge.
Totally forgot what my own comment would – oh, shiny!
I have to thank you for such a great blog. You never let me down. Right now I’m taking a “break” at work and I have to hold my breath so I don’t let the others hear me laughing while sitting in my cube. The others may wonder what I’m doing in here all by myself. If people don’t get your sense of humor, fuck’em! (ha ha! I’ve never said or even typed out “fuck’em” before!)
You can also open that bottle with your phone. My best friend does that all the time.
Although some people are totally BA and do it with their eyeball, I don’t suggest that.
(just trying to help)
I was really disappointed to have not been mentioned in Parts I & II, but I see you are working on Part III which I am sure is entirely dedicated to your stalkers, like me. So you are forgiven. Also, I totally would have warned you about the “Howston” thing, because that’s the kind of friend I am… which, really who am I kidding… I’m just a stalker. Carry on.
You look hot with your phonytail.
So far, pretty glad to be reading your reports instead of remembering how much I would rather have stayed home, which of course I did because I wasn’t invited anyway. How much worse would this have been if you were the abusive passenger on Jet Blue who slammed the overhead compartment door into Stephen Slater’s head causing him to deploy the emergency inflatable evacuation slide and grab a beer on his way out. You weren’t, were you? Just asking, because…you know…it’s about the only way that story makes sense.
So, could I just follow you around for a day? I think it would be the best entertainment ever!
I was in Burlington Vt, and I went into a crepe shop. (I know, mistakes one, and two, right there)
I ordered some crepe thing and a diet Coke. The waiter informed me that they didn’t sell “corporate sodas.” I told him to bring me something cold, wet, sugar-free, and caffeinated. I also told him that I didn’t care about the corporate structure of the company that bottled it, and that it could be made out baby seal blood and the sweat of third world children, for all I cared. He came back with an unsweetened iced tea. I asked him for a straw, and I was informed that straws were bad for the environment. I told him him bleeding all his blood into Lake Champlain was probably bad for the environment, too, but he didn’t seem to get it.
He’s so lucky that this was during lent, and I had given up stabbing pretentious hipsters for lent.
I hate hipster coffee shops that don’t carry Diet Coke or real (as in not with some weird berry flavor in it) iced tea. There are a couple of them here in Oklahoma City that think they’re better than Diet Coke. They’re not.
Fucking hipsters. Diet Coke is NOT installation art. It is sustenance. And should be freely given.
May be you should have dropped some of your poetry on them and then you’d have gotten the Diet Coke AND the bottle opener. I’m sure that would have worked. Next time. Next time . . .
I love you. That is all. I may actually have to break out of my anonymity & hit a Blogher one of these days just to meet you. Or, I could just come home for a visit specifically to stalk you. Either way.
As tweetquested, commenting for the express purpose of being not rude. Yer welcome.
the mormons are the ones going to hell, for making everyone around them suffer.
Something fishy is going on here…my pictures of you and the typewriter…The typewriter is pink, not blue.
Have I just gone color blind?
Also I always have a church key on my for emergencies.
You know who to call and it ain’t the mother fucking ghost busters.
Wow! I SO wish I could wear strapless.
I hate hipster coffee shops and hipster coffee. Actually I hate coffee in general. How can something that smells so good taste so hella awful? I always order hot chocolate.
Also, haven’t you ever opened a Coke on the edge of a countertop? ‘Course it doesn’t work on the rounded edges, but a good square edge? Will work even if it’s a table.
If you’re looking for the apostrophe (If I were tooo drun_k to tyype, I’d call it a comma) on an olde fashund typewriter (with the arms), it’s shift-comma. That physically lifts the striker-thingy and hence elevates the comma to apostrophe status.
OMG, I’m old. Grandma’s. I used Grandma’s.
I’m a native Texan who somehow managed to find herself living in NY. The pronunciation of ‘houston’ has been a pain in my ass since day once. New Yorkers think I’m pronouncing it wrong? Assholes. I’m just glad I’m not the only one it bugs.
howston is for hipsters. houston is for bad-asses.
Your trip just looks creepy. Maybe it was less creepy with alcohol?
BTW, in small defense of the New Yorkers, you do hail from a state that has a city (ATX) that butchers every streetname that has Mexican roots:
Manchaca = “manchack” to Austinites
Llano = “layno” to Austinites
and I won’t get started on Balcones = “bal-coneys” and Burnet = “burn-it”.
i think you give the New Yorkers Howston. Just to avoid another Alamo and stuff.
Kristen is also who I called when I couldn’t leave my room. Now I’m pretty sure she spent the whole conference just rescuing damsels from their distresses. She also dries tears and snarks like it’s her fucking job. I miss you both right now.
Howston?? Good God. Do they say “Dowlass” for Dallas? They’ve been mindfucked by all the Italian sparkling soda.
You truly are the catcher in the rye.
Wow…while reading this it was like almost being there… Except I’m drinking wine right now with no Morman to mess it up, and I have a fridge full of soda, and an opener…but other than that, I was totally transformed there for a few minutes
Hey…. us New Yorkers don’t go to Texas and tell you you’re pronouncing your city wrong. Houston the City and Houston the Street are named after two different people who pronounced their names two different ways, so everyone’s right and no one is wrong and we should all just hold hands and ding. 🙂
I had something witty to say (really!) until I was completely distracted by Comment #83. I think there is poetry there but I’m too drunk and not high enough to figure it out.
We’ve got your panel for next year right here:
“How to properly order a drink without ending up in hell. Or jail. (No need to be Mormons to apply)”
I guess you didn’t learn to open beer bottles with a cigarette lighter when you were in high school. It was an essential skill when you left your church key in someone else’s glove box. But. I’ve said too much.
Kristen blew me off in the hallway to answer that Mommy Needs a Cock call.
It’s totally fine, we’re good friends. I just felt like saying that. But I really should have followed her so I could’ve sat with you for awhile this time at least. So many social interactions, such weird, disorienting time.
Your post reminded me of a creepy movie I saw when I was a kid about a woman who works in a library, falls asleep (I think) and then wakes up and she’s in the past and she’s all alone and locked in the library. Except for this one woman she meets that turns out being dead and some guy who I think was the devil. Very weird. I will need to ask my sisters if they remember what that movie was called. Anyway, that’s all…
I can’t tell you how much I love your bl
Here is an “ng” for you.
I’ll leave it discreetly on the nightstand.
I can’t believe you didn’t realise that Ghostbuster didn’t actually happened in the New York library but a library near New York that is actually haunted. I have evidence, my sister wrote about it here: http://paris-ankara.blogspot.com/2010/04/ghost-story.html
My fuck, you are funny.
Seriously, why the crap would you ask about Sex and the City when you could find out about Ghostbusters?! Some people…
I so totally want to go to New York with you. Or anywhere, really. At least, anywhere that I can see ghosts and acquire tantalizingly undrinkable bottles of goodness.
What? No pics of mutton chops????? I totally love the phone pic though. I’m adding that to the end of ALL of my friends’ names!
This was a really good post but I have a couple of ques
I hear you on the taxi drivers. Victoria and I lucked out and got the only taxi driver in NYC to not understand where Penn Station (specifically the Amtrak entrance) is. We (and our combined 150 lbs. worth of luggage) were dropped off two blocks away at the subway entrance. Fun!
Are boys allowed to attend BlogHer? Because I really want to go sometime, but I don’t want my whole “representing the Patriarchy” thing to make anyone uncomfortable. Even though the Patriarchy technically isn’t my fault.
I didn’t understand the gravity of the situation in NY until the Diet Coke. Seriously, what’s the big deal about taxi drivers who can’t navigate NY, anxiety disorders that keep you in bathrooms and hotel rooms, ghosts in the library, mormons serving you rubbing alcohol? BUT when you got to the Diet Coke…I would have flown back to Howston so fast and when I touched down I would have marched over to the airport bar and asked for a DIET COKE (and some rum). Seeing that Diet Coke with an old-fashioned bottle cap gives me heart palpitations.
Some cab drivers will take advantage if they think that their customer is not a local. They don’t all do that, but some do. The first sign is a cabbie asking where something is after you give him the address. They know perfectly well where the address is. But if you say you don’t know, some will act lost. Another thing that some do is drive in circles. One time I took my cousins from Canada to NYC. One of them gave the cabbie the address. I hadn’t said anything yet. I am in CT, so NYC is just a hop, skip and a jump away. And the second I open my mouth, I sound like a New Yorker. The cabbie drove in circles. I told him to knock it off and to stop driving in circles. He drove right and took money off the bill.
That is the meanest Diet Coke story I ever heard. If some hipster ever tried to badger me into buying Italian soda, having already denied me Diet Coke, then things would get ugly. Like, denying-me-the-right-to-purchase-refreshing-sugar-free-caffeine-fuelled-drinks ugly…
Seriously, it’s like the hipster, and the Diet Coke teamed up to torment you.
Houston St. is pronounced Howsten because it’s an easy way for the cabbies to determine who is a tourist and who lives there. If you pronounce it Houston — you’re a tourist and they’re gonna take you on the fuck-longest ride they possibly can. If you prounouce it Howsten — they know you’re from the area and will beat the ever-loving fuck out of you for trying to rip them off.
Please consider this your official invitation to my wedding. Because who needs a photographer when you could have The Bloggess on a typewriter?
I promise we’ll have booze. And Diet Coke.
Generally, I don’t approve of stealing, but in this case, I think it was warranted. If only you could have stolen a bottle opener too…
I just watched Ghost Busters! My favorite ghost was the shushing ghost in the library, so you kinda hit that nail on the head. Way to be psychic Bloggess!
this is totally the day that I saw you. It was pretty bad ass. I waited in line to say hey and these ladies kept skipping the line! Oh jeez. the things i was thinking… but i thought it was best not to be a bitch in the line right before my psychic readin becuase then i might have gotten a shitty reading… my friend was taking pics hte whole time and i was all “dude… stop that”
when it was my turn i said wolverines to you because im weird. and then you gave me a psychic reading of wolverines!!!!! I want to be cool and act like i know what this means… but please tell me. Am i gonna turn into a wolverine?
This might fuck up my chances of ever getting finding a husband… unless i find a hot wolverine… then i will invite you to the wedding. Bring the phony tail.
As Melanie said, you can open that shit with a lighter. Or, conviently, with the drawer-pulls in my kitchen. So the next time you are in my kitchen with a glass bottle of diet coke, you’re good!
I have been reading your blog for an hour and I still don’t know if this is the right place for this. But oh wells. I liked your panel. You made me laugh. I was in a bad mood because Starbucks gave me a stale bagel without a toaster. But you were funny. Thank you. Consider me a new fan.
How do you pronounce the city Cairo???
For the city in Egypt you pronounce it Keye-Row, where as for the city in Illinois they pronounce it Kay-Row. Same city, same spelling… different pronunskiations (Go figga’)
Geez,I hope you didn’t drink that sparkling water…it’s made of hipsters..SPARKLING WATER IS MADE OF HIPSTERS!
I liked the poem you wrote me. But I wish it had included more references to ghosts.
Awesome posts. I wanna come next year. Sure as hell hope I never walk in anywhere and see a naked picture of me. Or a picture of me holding a plunger, cuz you know they creep me out. Once used they are NEVER friggin clean, we should treat them as disposable. Yes really germs freak me out that much. Okay back to you – love the posts, love the blog, hope to meet you in San Diego next year!
if you put the bottle in the door lock thingy, the whole where the other thing goes in to, i dunno how to call it, say the vagina of the door lock and kind of twist it, it will work as a bottle opener.
That’s why you should always travel with a corkscrew and bottle opener. Maybe also some mini vodka bottles, that way no more of your Mormon friends are in mortal jeopardy.
My husband used to live in NYC and he took me all over the city on our first visit to visit his favorite this and that. He took me to the public library and we didn’t see ghosts either or anyone being murdered for that matter. I did see a copy of Fahrenheit 451 with an asbestos cover though. I’m pretty sure if you licked it you would die which is close to being murdered by fine literature as you can get.
There is a Couch St in Portland that locals INSIST on pronouncing “cootch”. They just want to fuck with tourists. It’s like naming a street “Chair” and insisting that it’s pronounced. “Cock”
Dude-I had a Mormon roomate & she made the BEST mixed drinks ever! She’d make virgin ones for herself & then make mine & they were seriously so good we opened a bar in our kitchen & charged people. I think it was because with her not drinking alcohol, she viewed it as just another ingredient. So strawberry maraghrita? 1/2 cup of blended strawberries, 1/2 cup of tequila. I always meant to correct her, but some how I just never got around to it.
@Sono They used to be spelled different. Houston Street was named for William Houstoun (pronounced HOWston) before the fame of Sam Houston, for whom the city in Texas is named.
Yes, I looked that shit up on Wikipedia when I first moved to NYC, and I tell it to tourists all the time. Not to be an “asshole” as a previous commented suggested, but to be helpful. Soho is a little confusing to navigate, and if I’m giving you directions I also want to be sure someone doesn’t dick you around if you jump in a cab and sound like a tourist.
Many New Yorkers are actually very nice, and so are a lot of our cabbies. Unfortunately the jerkface ones know where to pick up tourists and the top of Soho happens to be one of those places.
Mmmmmm… ghosts, ghost huntings, creepy, creepy libraries! Yes please. Take me with you next time.
You should have taken one of the Diet Cokes into the cooking competition and performed the Sabrage ceremony on it with your knife. That would have totally caught Padma’s attention. And also probably put a piece of glass in her eye… never mind
How does one even go about looking up where exactly in the libarary Ghostbusters was filmed? Where do they keep such information stored? I know it is a library and all, but I am not sure Ghostbusters counts as great literature.
Hey! I think that ghost is wearing a phony-tail.
saw you speak at blogher. now, like all the others in blogland, i totally have a crush on you. you’re hysterical and i’m hooked.
If you ever need to open an old-fashioned bottle like that again, call me. Having spent my formative teenage years before the invention of the pull-tab or twist-off top, I know a LOT of ways to open beer cans and bottles without the proper opener that can be readily adapted to Diet Coke, too. I also can tell you how to open a corked bottle of wine without any tools at all. And without breaking the bottle.
OMG you totes need to learn to open a bottle with a lighter. For reals.
I used to open beer bottles and cokes with that sort of cap by putting the bottle cap against the edge of like a table or something hard, then bang on it with my other hand and voila. Just make sure it’s not a table you like or person you likes table… My boyfriend uses lighters, something I haven’t mastered, or a snuffbox. Keys and teeth also viable options. Coke just tastes better coming out of an overprices glass bottle. All the while I have tons of openers in my drawers and even one on my keyring, but I always seem to forget, or get to lazy to find my keyring under all the other crap that goes in to my bag/purse.
Btw, you look great in those pics from the convention.
you can also use an ordinary screwdriver or similar to pry away the metal cap, one little crimp at a time. check for cracked glass/sharp edges before drinking.
the same ordinary screwdriver can be used to open metal cans. use it like a chisel, whack it with your hand, and use the corner of the blade to concentrate the force. repeat around the edge. for liquids a few holes are enough, for chunky soups etc halfway is good enough.
My last name is Houston (pronounced like the city, you know, the normal and right way), but given my close proximity to NYC, telemarketers have been mispronouncing my family name for years. It’s great though, because then when they ask if “Mrs. Howston” is there, you can say that she doesn’t live there. Because she doesn’t. That name doesn’t exist.
I loved my fortune. It made my night. I forgot to brush my teeth, and was naturally concerned about my breath. So imagine my relief when you handed me the piece of paper that said “you reek of SOPHISTICATION” and not, “for lord’s sake get a breath mint sister.” I was able to relax and enjoy the rest of my evening. So thanks!
oh, is “sophistication” code for “death breath?” Crap.
so, i could have helped you out with the ghostbusters part…. my friend is currently the foreman at a huge job on central park west, the 19th floor, which incidentally happens to be where the movie, excuse me, i mean ghostbusting happened.
i shit you not.
i have photos that i have yet to upload to flickr but i will. then i will come back and show you. wish i would have known it was an attraction for you….i am pretty sure he would have let you up with me. new york is a weird place.
If Blogher is in Chicago again, you can visit the building from the roof scenes. Or better yet, just go and start a Ghostbusters World Tour. Do it!
What do you mean by ‘old-fashioned bottle opener’? Actually, I know what you *mean* but you call that old–fashioned? 😀 What exactly do you have over there? I’m curious right now, lol. 😀
You never learned the “How to pop the lid off a drink in a hotel door lock” trick? You have seriously been attending the wrong conventions.
I feel the same way about Rodeo Drive. We all know it is supposed to be pronounced rodeo, not row-day-oh.
I’m angry that that diet coke bottle is so damn small. I would need at least 12 of those to feel satisfied. I hope you stole an adequate amount because there’s nothing worse than robbing someone and later wishing you had gotten more. Like when you go to the bank and they’re all “we can’t open the safe” and you’re all “that’s okay just give me your money” because you’re in a hurry and really want donuts or something. But later you wish you had gotten that extra money.
Houston was founded on August 30, 1836 by brothers Augustus Chapman Allen and John Kirby Allen on land near the banks of Buffalo Bayou. The city was incorporated on June 5, 1837, and named after then-President of the Republic of Texas—former General Sam Houston.
Houston Street is named for William Houstoun, who was a Delegate to the Continental Congress for the State of Georgia from 1784 through 1786 and to the United States Constitutional Convention in 1787. The street was christened by Nicholas Bayard III, whose daughter, Mary, was married to Houstoun in 1788. The couple met while Houstoun, a member of an ancient and aristocratic Scottish family, was serving in the Congress.
Bayard cut the street through a tract he owned in the vicinity of Canal Street in which he lived, and the city later extended it to include North Street, the northern border of New York’s east side at the beginning of the 19th century.
The current spelling of the name is a corruption: the street appears as Houstoun in the city’s Common Council minutes for 1808 and the official map drawn in 1811 to establish the street grid that is still current. In those years, the Texas hero Sam Houston, for whom the street is sometimes incorrectly said to have been named, was an unknown teenager in Tennessee. Also mistaken is the explanation that the name derives from the Dutch words huis for house and tuin for garden.