reporting for duty: fleet week 2005

So another fleet week has come and gone. S and I hit Times Square with our pied piper-ness, and by that I mean, with our boobs out. We were pros. Or so I thought. We kept seeing them in groups, none that were great looking but still we made the requisite eye contact nonetheless. We encountered problems when they weren’t making it back. Hello! Two hot girls and their cleavage are walking by! Men: that is your sign to at least notice our presence. But we felt nearly invisible. Those that made eye contact didn’t know to do the look back. You know the look back. It’s what solidifies that you and the guy/girl are mutually interested and that one of you should stop and talk to the other. Did the captains on the boats not send out the memo?

To: servicemen and women
From: your superiors
Date: 5/26/05
Re: The look back.

Members of our esteemed navy and marine corps,

As we dock at the ports of new york city we want to give you suggestions on how to maximize your enjoyment of this weekend. We encourage you to meet the locals who can show you a good time. On this topic, to most efficiently meet the locals, eye contact is key but the look back in imperative. Always look back at the guy/girl to ensure a future conversation.

Thank you.

General I. Battle.

Damn the administrative incompetence of the u.s. military. So we just started drinking. We started meeting marines and sailors but they were all so young. We went to a restaurant row bar where I’m something of a regular and 5 cute marines followed us in. I picked mine. Jason, a cute boy with dimples and blue eyes from Louisiana who likes to cook and has 4 sisters. He was 25 (thank god). Oh, and he’s also a good kisser. So Jason and I were going to meet up the next day (Thursday) but I never heard from him. I went down to bleeker street with S (who thought she was ditched by a guy she was supposed to have a date with, matt. not a sailor) to our favorite bar. Right away I spotted a tall dark and handsome sailor standing near the back of the bar. We kept making eye contact but he didn’t come up to talk so I let it go. I glanced over to my right and saw a marine that looked just like this pretty guy. He was 22 (I know...I know...) but I noticed a wedding ring. I mentioned it, told him about my 22 married marine brother. We’re talking. I’m making him laugh and I feel his hand on my thigh. This wasn’t no quick touch either. I was being stroked. For a second I thought, “he’s married, do I stop this?” I decided I wasn’t going to reciprocate (and that I wouldn’t kiss him either) and that it was harmless. He started to ask me what I was doing the next day, where I’d be. I was thinking that if I saw him again I’d definitely fuck him. He was hot and touching me and it’s been a while since I’ve been laid. Am I evil? Before I said anything, his friend “tex” came over and swept him away, telling him he had to go. Then he looked at me and yelled, “he’s married you know!” I ignored him, but saw tex yelling at him about it. Married guy looked at me as they were leaving with a, “he’s ridiculous, sorry about that” look. I sent him off with a wink and a smile.

In the meantime S had gotten a call from the guy who she thought stood her up, so we got ready to go meet him on the lower east side. S stopped at the bathroom and on her way back tall, dark, and handsome stopped her, telling her he wanted to meet her friend. I walked over there and he was adorable. He wanted to go to law school as soon as he got out. he was lovely and I should have given him my number but I was drunk and S dragged me away to go meet her date matt. He had flowers for her (half of which he gave to me and the bartender so we wouldn’t feel left out). she met him at club X (a fictitious name, for all those stalkers out there), and he’s friends with the owner. I got a call from Jason at 2am saying his phone died, which is why he couldn’t call. He wanted to see me again. I’m not sure if I believed his story but I wasn’t too fussed about meeting up with him again considering the two much better looking guys I’d met that night. I could have tried to hedge my bets but didn’t have the energy. Jason has literally been texting and calling me an average of 10 times a day. It’s insane.

The next night we went to club X. right away I spotted a bartender who looked like Tag from friends. I saw S staring at him too so thought, “damn. I’m gonna have to fight her for him, aren’t I?” I told her I thought he was gorgeous. She told me that her roommate D had slept with him last weekend when S had met matt. she walked right up to him and said, “don’t you recognize me?” he said, “no.” she said, “you slept with my roommate last weekend!” “No…I didn’t.” “yes!” “no….” and with that he waved the owner over. He says, “this girl thinks I’m morgan!” (we are assuming tag and morgan are brothers, but who knows). Owner says, “you slept with morgan, huh?” S says, “no! I slept with matt!” owner proceeds to say that matt is like a brother to him, and they bond over the fact that they both like matt. Owner kept buying us shots. I danced with a pole for a long time I think. Owner said he’d pay me if I’d come back wearing less clothes next time. I’m NOT taking him up on his offer. All that mattered to me was that Tag was no longer damaged goods since he had not slept with D. hooray! We chatted briefly through the night, I slipped him my number as I left, he told me that I’d better answer the phone, which I thought was strange.

The next two days were taken up by a wedding. it was black tie and probably the most beautiful (and expensive) wedding I’ll ever go to in my lifetime. It was at a museum. We dined and danced amongst Picassos. I’m not kidding. I got a text from Tag, who’s real name is ian, “this is ian from club X. you and your girls should come down to the club tonight.” Not sure what to make of it. It wasn’t a mass text (which I get from club promoters sometimes just to get people in) but it wasn’t a sign that he actually wanted to see me. The owner is his brother. He quite possibly just wanted to get people into the club on a Sunday night. I didn’t go. Have no idea if I’ll hear from him again. If he’s interested, he’ll call. You’ll hear about it if he does.

like a sailor to a siren

caveat: I hate long posts. this is one. I’m sorry. Read half and come back later.

I know it’s cliché, but I was a sex and the city fanatic long before I moved to new york. I’m not the type that came here thinking I was going to be a sex and the city girl (however, I’m so much like Miranda’s character that it frightens me, but that’s for another post). I’m not a fan of martinis and I don’t own manolo blahniks. Since I’ve moved here there has been one episode that I could watch over and over. The “fleet week episode” (season 5, first episode). It’s about a love for New York (“you’re never alone in New York, It’s the perfect place to be single. The city is your date”), with a bunch of sailors thrown in. “Fleet week is that one week in nyc where the u.s. naval ships dock and our fair city is made even fairer by cute sweet American sailors looking for fun.” In the episode, Carrie had had a bad day in the city, “[the city] was dismissive, abusive and it made me feel desperate.” But she met a sailor (the hot hot Daniel Sunjata) and he didn’t like new york, “I have to say, this is my first trip to ny. Not for me. I mean, the garbage, the noise, I don’t know how you deal with it.” As she walks away from that sailor, you hear carrie say, “new york may just be my great love, and I can’t have anyone talking shit about my boyfriend.”

Fleet week really is an amazing time in new york for any woman who likes a man in a uniform. They flood times square in groups, all wide-eyed and a little overwhelmed. I hate times square. It’s gaudy, it smells, the tourists don’t know when to cross the street, guys with fake louis vuitton's thowing their wares all over you, and people walk too damn slow. But we grinned and beared it in order to shop for sailors. Girls in new york planning a fleet week outing need only to look cute and make eye contact. All a sailor needs is the teeniest bit of encouragement before he’ll stop and say, “hello ma’am. How you doing this evening?” My friend S and I trolled (yes, we were definitely trolling) for some sailors and they were all looking for a place to get a drink. Good thing S and I had a little place picked out already. We walked through times square for about 45 minutes telling all the sailors who asked, that we were going to Tony’s (not the real name) on 9th ave. They all said they’d see us later. When we were finally ready to head to Tony’s, we passed a group of 12 marines who asked if we were going straight there and could they come with us. We were like pied pipers. Other sailors just started falling in line behind us. There must have been 25 of them by the time we got to the bar. We got there and there were nearly 40 there already, most of which we’d told about the bar earlier in the evening. I think they all felt cheated when they started to realize that they all knew us. We honestly didn’t think most of them would come by. It turns out your average sailor is ten times more honest and reliable than the average man. When they said they’d come by, they actually meant it. We’ll take it easier this year, you know, whore ourselves a little less.

Tony’s is a comfy pub and the boys didn’t stay resentful long. Former officers were buying beers for all the guys, the owner was buying drinks for S and I for bringing all the guys in. Nikki, a waitress at the bar saw us and said, “of course! I should have known it would be jasmine who’d bring all the sailors in!” Me? Reputation for boy craziness? What?! okay, fine, if you insist. At the end of the night, there were two that kept our attention. Sean (20, from TX, very boyish) and Tim (27, from FL, tanned). They were such a comic duo. Tim would say something like, “my mom was a gypsy. I know how to read palms,” and then Sean would make fun of tim endlessly and tim would get angry, as S and I were in tears from laughing so hard. I still think sean was the funniest guy I’ve ever met. However, he was young and a bit sheltered. He had never seen a blind person until he got to new york (i'm so serious about this). he had also never had a bagel and thought the idea of lox was just disgusting. He had pictures of his TX farm where he has lots of goats. Gypsies and goats. We sure know how to pick ‘em, right? So at one point, I went to the bathroom and recognizing S as the weaker of the two of us, they told her that the boat closed at 1 and they weren’t allowed back on. That they had nowhere to stay, could they stay with us? S, smartly, didn’t answer but instead ran back to the bathroom and was yelling, “jasmine! they asked to stay at ours! They said they can’t get back on the boat!” we went back and I told them were were NOT hooking up with them (tim’s gypsy mother and a host of other things that made him entertaining but kind of a weirdo, and sean’s youth…20…ruled them out). Did they understand? They both said yes. I said, “you may think I’m bluffing, but I’m not. We’re seriously not sleeping with you. One of you will get the couch, the other will get the floor.” They both nodded.

They came home with us and remembering that it had been a while since we’d had a man in the house, and since I was drunk and brazen I set them to work. I had them carry out a huge planter with a dead tree that was too heavy for me to lift. I had them change the light bulbs in the ceiling fixtures that I’m too short to reach (even on a chair), and we had them move a little bit of furniture. We felt bad when we saw they got their dress whites dirty from the planter. Tim had asked if I wanted a massage, and made sure to show off all his tattoos (he had a pretty amazing body), but that was all the pressure I got before he realized I wasn’t changing my mind. S and I texted back and forth about how funny it was that they were in our living room. In the morning, they were still nice to us (such gentlemen) even though they didn’t get any ass, and they offered to give us a tour of the ship. They even told us we shouldn’t wear skirts, that we’d be going up ladders (which was kind b/c they could have “forgotten” that fact and made sure to always be the ones to follow us up). We took the staten island ferry over to their boat and got a full tour. It was funny b/c sean kept moving switches, pressing buttons and you’d hear tim yell, “sean! Don’t touch that!” we asked if we couldn’t take the thing out for a spin, or even drop an anchor or something. They said no. actually, sean said sure, tim said no. we went down to their bunks where I think they were supposed to give warning that women were coming down because there were several shocked men coming out of the shower or changing down there. On the shuttle back to the ferry we met two more guys, josh and chad (both southerners as well) and ended up having lunch with them. They were so cute, and both taken, but it was a nice plutonic way to end the weekend.

Fleet week starts this Wednesday. Times square, here we come. Land ho!

buy me some peanuts and crackerjacks...

So today was another one of those days that screams to me I’d be crazy to leave new york. I know there were several of you telling me not to go to D.C., that nyc was better. Well, I’m fully aware. If I were to go, it wouldn’t be for the scenery or the social scene. it would be for a dream job in politics. It’s a sacrifice, I’m not sure I’m ready to make it, I have to decide soon, I hate being so confused about it all, and most of all I hate making hard decisions. I’m lazy, I’m scared, i’m clueless. I’ll figure it out, not because I want to, but because I have to. there are a lot of factors, a few of which concern an apartment full of furniture, a lease that ends aug. 27^th, and the bar which keeps me from getting anything accomplished until the beginning of august. As if the bar exam weren’t stressful or scary enough I’ve gotta be verging on homelessness and joblessness at the same time. Moving to d.c. involves the messiness of either moving there with no job (not recommended), or getting a place month to month here (and I suppose putting all my furniture in storage?) and waiting till I get the call to move. Oy! Enough with my serious stuff. It just helped to get it down.

So people may think it’s sad, but the people at my starbucks are starting to learn my name. they usually recognize who I am by sight, and what I drink, but today the girl behind the register said, “hey, can you hand that iced tea to jasmine?” and though there were women on each side, the barrista knew which one was me. Made me feel at home, in a sad, “she’s here all the time and we feel sorry for her” kind of way.

With my venti unsweetened black iced tea (light ice) in hand, I head to the park planning to read my New Yorker at the meadow. This, my dears, is my dream day-off activity. I’m boring, but happy. I pass by the softball fields and remember it’s a Thursday. And summer Thursdays in glorious new york city mean broadway show league games!! I’d nearly forgotten all about this virtually unknown new york treasure. Most the broadway shows get together their own softball teams and they play against each other. I missed the 11:30 round of games so I have yet to see if Denzel Washington is playing for the Julius Caesar team. I will keep you posted, although, if I see Denzel I may just jump him, which may get me arrested. I will keep you posted if there is internet access from jail. I know a guy who works for blue man group and i saw him in the outfield for their team so watched that game for the afternoon.

There is a guy who plays the soprano sax (which I love) on the corner of my block. he’s one of the few street musicians that can play jazz with a little soul. He doesn’t play all the lame standards either (how many times does one have to hear Brubeck's take five, really). He plays the stuff that jazz lovers like. I left him a five today, just because.

i'm baaaaaack...

I’ve successfully finished law school. [taking a bow]. My body is still holding a lot of tension. I’m still wading in stress. I’m a virgo. I’m not sure I can live without stress. Though, just because school is over, that isn’t to say that I don’t have anything to be stressed about. Still trying to figure out whether this girl is gonna stay in gotham city past august. Am considering a giant leap to D.C.

I was in a cab coming home a couple nights ago and was shocked when I heard the voice say, “so where to?” he was American. And white. Very rare to find the combination in a cabbie. In fact, maybe my second time ever. So he’s also really chatty. He drives cabs, “when filmmaking work isn’t racking in enough money.” He was being serious too. I think it’s safe to assume he drives a cab pretty regularly. I was sitting right behind him so only knew what he looked like from his name tag. Light brown shaggy hair, round face, a beard and mustache. We’re stopped at a light and he says, “I’m working on a project where I take pictures of my passengers. Mind if I take your picture?” I was so taken aback that I mumbled, “um...no” and he turned around, put his head in the window and snapped a picture. I don’t think I was smiling. It threw me. It was weird. He said he was maybe going to put them in a blog. And he hoped to make a book of them…? And now the guy knows where I live. I’m not comfortable with that.

Thanks for all your support re: hobbs. I’d like to report that he’s doing great. No more floaty behavior and his fins are starting to look healthy again. For a fish, he seems to have personality. Is that possible? Anyhow, I didn’t realize how much I liked him until I thought he was going to die. Makes me wonder about all the other things in life I’m taking for granted.

Watching the SNL I taped yesterday. A friend of mine has been making out regularly with seth Meyers. He and a couple other SNLers people are always at the same club on Thursdays. He’s too cocky for being one of the least funny people ever cast on SNL. I keep going back to the club in a light effort to stalk jimmy fallon who is there once in a blue moon. Pathetic? Absolutely. What’s a girl to do?

reason #589 why i love new york

i just saw the rolling stones play a free concert down the street from my house. i can die saying i saw a rolling stones concert. heck yeah!

so i was walking to my final law school exam (i kicked ass, btw), and i heard music. it was 9am and there was a sound check rocking through the lincoln center. i didn't have time to stop but when i emerged three hours later there were tons of "Rolling Stones" banners hanging all over the place and a crowd was starting to congregate. it was mostly business people on lunch and there weren't all that many people there, considering the last time they went on tour 60,000 seat arenas were selling out in minutes. i called a friend who works at NYC Ballet who looked it all up. they were having a press conference to talk about this summer's tour and they played four songs. Mick was looking skinny in a lavender long sleeved shirt. Keith was wearing a neon yellow scarf. why, keith, why? My best friend from college went to orlando bloom's new movie premiere (said hello to him, in the bathroom no less, but then he got pee shy. hee!) and orlando was also wearing a scarf. bah.

so yes, a free stones concert on a sunny 78 degree perfect day in manhattan. you all must come and join me! this city does not disapoint.

i also did not fail that exam. i got a B- which, i'd normally be upset about, but today i celebrate!

on a sad note, i have a fish. i'm not one for fish but my mom got it for me. its one of those self sustaining systems. you have a plant that grows in water, stick it in a vase, put beta fish in, it lives off whatever grows off the roots. it's impossible to kill these things. but i think mine is sick. i just changed his water and he's been strange and floaty since. still alive, but bouyant, which for a fish, is not good. i sprinted to a pet store to pick up some stuff to stick in his water. am hoping he'll make it, but things are grim. his name is hobbes. when i bought him and tried to put him in the vase, things were looking good. i was slowly tipping the water into the vase. slowly..slowly...and then all the water came rushing out, the balance tipped and the fish flew out the bag, over the vase, and onto the stove. he landed in that groove that the metal grates sit over. i had just cleaned it so no gross crumbs or anythin, thank god. so he sat there and flapped. my roommate, S, and i looked at each other wide-eyed. in a split-second i grabbed him up and tossed him in the water. we held our breath as we waited to see if he'd swim. and swim, he did. phew! S is british, and those burners on the stove are called hobbes over in england, so we had a name.

so i have another 15 pages of a paper to write by thursday but my goal is to finish by wednesday night. chug chug chugging along. this is the home stretch people! huzzah!

and also, please note the link in my list for Superhero Andy, fka Intern Andy. he's back, i missed him. i think that deserves another huzzah. HUZZAH!!!

today was a very good day

so today was a very good day indeed.

I have finished half my exams. i think i may have failed one of them but have been very zen about all of it. have been hearing elsewhere that it was amazingly difficult and the exam is graded on a curve so there may be hope for me afterall. But you know what? I’m at one of the best lawschools in the country. my grades don’t matter. at least not all that much.

I met a lovely new friend at starbucks today. I asked this girl if I could sit for a while at an extra chair at her table, she said sure. some women next to us were talking about preschools in the hamptons. They all had 3 carat rocks on their fingers. What got both of us was when one woman pulled a hermes scarf out of her bag and said she had picked it up but wasn’t sure if she liked it but would probably keep it anyways. Wha?? $320 scarf? So the rich women left and we started chatting. We couldn’t stop. She’s awesome, just moved here, and I’m taking her under my cosmopolitan wing. Yay for new friends in unexpected places. Though, to be fair, stuff like that happens to me all the time. I’m approachable and easy to talk to. i’m a stranger magnet. oh yeah, i also have, "for a good time, call jasmine" tatooed on my forehead.

It is cinco de mayo and since I’m a latinophile I spoke Spanish (not well) to anyone who would listen. Luckily it was my friend jenn’s birthday so I had the opportunity to sing to her: “feliz cumpleanos a ti!!!!!”

Celebrity sightings: Christian slater, Dianne sawyer, Regis philbin, and I was walking at the grocery store behind this slow short lady with a bowl cut of shaggy black hair and am thinking to myself, “come on lady!” when the lady turned around and it was tony danza. Hmmm. Oops.

BUT all this, my dears, does not a good day make. I got asked out TWICE today. First at starbucks and then just walking down the street. I’m terminally single, but that’s not to say I don’t get my fair share of attention. i think I’m a fairly pretty girl, but only when I put some effort into it. Today I was wearing ripped jeans (which my mother’s guess-model neighbor girl swears is coming back big…so don’t toss those things) and a vintage t-shirt I had cut up to make cool looking (keep your eye out on a clothing line by yours truly. It’s not even in the works but I make a lot of my own stuff and think I could make some cold hard cash off of some suckers...um I mean, fashionistas...with it) but not showing ANY cleavage. I was wearing no make up. So what gives? The piece de resistance? Pigtails. I was wearing pigtails today. What the hell is it with guys and those things?! I mean, honestly...

tomorrow is the billion dollar babes sale. a highlight of my year. will report i make it back alive.

post script: i got an e-mail from joshua bell's assistant telling me she got the e-mail and that he reads all his e-mail at some point. Bah. it was worth a shot i guess.

marry me joshua bell!

so lately i've been surrounded by celebrities.

my friend pretty is dating her. she's a doll but he's not that into her. i will probably never see her again.

my friend skinny has been on dates with john cusack AND carson daly in the past two weeks.

i just went to anouska shankar's concert (she's a friend of a friend) and her father ravi shankar (who is uber famous, was friends with the beatles, george harrison is anouska's godfather) was there. so was norah jones (also ravi's daughter...different wife). anouska had this dinner for her friends afterwards that our mutual friend couldn't stay for, so that I also couldn't stay for (I didn't know anouska at all, we'd just been introduced), so we had a drink and left. richard gere and joshua bell were there as well.

let me tell you something. when i was in high school, i wanted to marry joshua bell. a lot of girls had jonathan brandis, eddie furlong, scott baio, tom cruise, luke perry on their walls....i had joshua bell (a violinist). am i a dork? maybe. but seriously, i was as in love with joshua bell as any 14 year old can be in love with anyone. and it stuck. he is still in my top ten and i'm 24 years old.

i saw him and i stared at him a while, thinking "god, that guy looks just like joshua bell." and i stared some more. until norah walked in and i heard her say, "hey josh." at that point, my heart started racing, my knees got weak and i froze. and we left shortly thereafter.

what is my problem?! i live in new york. i see famous people all the time. in fact, i saw tom cavanagh (who i stalk, will tell you about it someday), liam neeson, and howard stern today (they were not together) on the upper west side. i used to work at the goddamn soho house. i've waited on rob deniro, will smith, sarah jessica parker, jude law, george clooney, bill clinton, marilyn manson, paul mccartney (am not linking them. if you don't know who they are, you are dead to me). and i freak out because i see a frickin violinist!!!!???!!! what is wrong with me?! it's probably better i didn't say anything. "will you marry me" would have fallen out of my mouth before i could have stopped myself. am kicking myself right now.