Hot Mess Drag Revue (No, I don’t mean me.)

So I am CLEARLY no good at keeping up with this blog. I try. I think about it all the time. I have ideas, I take pictures for the ideas, I tell my friends, “HEY, this would be SUCH a good idea!”

And then, nope. I sleep in. I go to lunch. I cook mac and cheese from the box for the third time in a week. I re-watch all the Project Freelancer seasons of Red Vs. Blue [spoiler.] There’s just always something right in front of my face that seems to take precedent.

So chronology is officially out the window as I’m just going to pick fun stories to recap for a while.

A few weeks ago, I went to a drag show! A handful of friends and I nabbed some Groupons to Hot Mess Drag Revue at XL Nightclub in Manhattan.

First off, you can tell a lot about a person by their reaction to the question, “Hey, wanna go to a drag show?”

For anyone who responds, “Uhm. No. That’s super weird,  I don’t get it and frankly it makes me uncomfortable.”

…ya know, you’ve probably already been offended by something I’ve said in the past, so I really don’t need to be addressing you.

For my friends and I, our eyes lit up at the potential hysteria and chaos analogous with a drag show. All too excited, we got super cute one Friday evening and made our way to NYC.

I'M TAKING A PICTURE, EVERYONE LOOK HAPPY.

I’M TAKING A PICTURE, EVERYONE LOOK HAPPY.

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Next Week On, “My Life After Purchase”

I sort of can’t believe it’s February. So much has happened, so much is happening, so much is probably about to happen in the world that I just have no idea about cause it’s happening to people I don’t know or care about. Gosh, so much to take in.

Since my last post in *gasp* December, I’ve clearly moved up in my job. I’m not saying I’m any better at doing things, but I’m more confident about telling people what I think and having my opinions promptly rejected. Hey, whatever, at least I’m trying. I’ve been invited to two, that’s right, TWO, big, important, boss-type meetings. To take notes, mostly, but I was there! And I cracked some jokes!

Even on break, the room still looks important.

Even on break, the room still looks important.

I’M SO IMPORTANT, PEOPLE, HOW CAN YOU EVEN STAND TO BE AROUND ME.

In what I guess is bigger news, I’m moving. Like moving out.

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“No” Doesn’t Mean Anything on a Friday Night

CHRIST ON A CRACKER, PEOPLE, LET ME TELL YOU A STORY.

So Chelsea, Emily and I go out for a few drinks Friday night, celebrating something, who really cares. After margaritas at a Columbian restaurant, we head to a bar we like. But there’s a cover for some crappy live music, and everyone in there looks like they have fathered many children, so we move on.

Next on our list is the Half-Penny Pub in Sayville, which has a cool setup and a lively atmosphere. The bartender is busy, but fun, attentive and good for a suggestion. We’re having a good time just the three of us, observing, drinking, chatting at the bar.

SuperKim

SuperKim

Enter Vinny and Frank. Vinny is an older dude. Frank is a younger, much drunker dude. The matchups have been decided – Vinny vs. Emily. Frank vs. Chelsea. Kim vs. The World.

To get right to the good part, Vinny buys Em a shot despite her saying, “I’m okay, got a full beer right in front of me.” (I decline the shot, I’m driving.) After the shot and some chatting, Vinny thinks he’s being slick when he leans behind Emily and begins his play with, “So, hypothetical situation-”

“A guy at a bar thinks this girl is cute, buys her a drink, and wants to get her number, but really wants her friends’ approval first.”

I made him repeat himself, because doesn’t that always piss you off? When you think you’re being cool and someone doesn’t understand you? “Wait, what?” So he repeats himself. And during his second run through Emily starts grabbing my knee, so the end game here is clear. This is my favorite part – where I get to be a bitch and there will be no repercussions. If I do a good job at being a bitch, I even get thanked for it. What could be better?

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Airport Diner

Late last night, after a very long day, my darling Chelsea and I went to a nearby diner to simultaneously grab food and be productive.  I had a huge report to finish for work and she had a math final to study for.

Though we got to the diner at about 8 p.m. or so, the following is a transcript of the most eventful portions of the evening.

Scene: Me on my laptop, though admittedly I don’t look like I’m doing work as I am on Twitter and Facebook tracking social media mentions.  Chelsea’s notebook and math notes are strewn about.  Quesadilla remnants and coffee cups litter the table.
 9:00 p.m.

Chelsea, who cannot focus for anything (too much caffeine probably,) settles on her mantra, repeating it to give her strength:

1-Do the stuff

2-Learn the things

3-Not fail the test

book

Aggressive.

9:17 p.m.

Mantra is slightly altered:

1-Do some of the stuff

2-Learn a few of the things

3-Consider not failing the test

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This post is not about being sad. It is about being happy, despite the first 246 words.

OH, readers.  And my mom.  I wish every time I sat down to write something for My Life After Purchase, I was happy, overjoyed with the promise of the literary greatness I am bound to achieve, words flowing from the poor keyboard I type on far too viciously.  Don’t we all wish that?

But alas, it is not so.

And that’s okay.  I’m alright with not being happy all the time.  I actually struggled with that for a weird portion of my life.  I had this complex where I didn’t think I had the right to be upset, disappointed or sad, because there were people who wish they had my life and would give anything for it, so who was I to demand more than I already had?  Heck there were people in my home town who I had it better than.  Though that mentality forced me to be positive a lot, when I needed to be sad, when my my body said fuck. this. and completely let go, it was not pretty.  With a little help, I came to the conclusion that I matter as do my emotions.  They don’t always make sense, but they are mine.  I can be the best me I can possibly be, and there will sometimes be sad.

And that’s okay.

I just needed to get that out of the way.  I really needed to write it.  Felt good to type out, and feels even better to share it.  Thanks.

It leads me to what was supposed to be the point of this post, that I’m trying to be the best me.  Finally.  After a long time of hoping and wishing for it to happen on its own, I’m making physical steps to improve myself.  I did want to wait until I had some more results to post about it, but it’s such a large part of who I am right now and I’d like it to continue, so I feel the need to talk about it.

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Fantastic French Fry Forage of 2013, pt. 1

This Sunday I tried to get a group of friends to hike a section of the Greenbelt Trail, which spans 32 miles across Long Island from the LI Sound to the Great South Bay, following the  Nissequogue and Connetquot Rivers.  Scheduling group things with high school chums is getting increasingly difficult though.  Some of our us are back at school, finishing a degree or starting a new one, some have jobs, full or part time, and SOME moved all the way out of the state (you know who you are.)

When the hike didn’t happen, my girl Chelsea and I did not want to give up on a day of adventure.  Thus was born the Fantastic French Fry Forage of 2013.

(I talk, and write, a lot.  But I like that about me.  So I’ve broken this post right in half.  Come back again for the second part, and the glorious end to our escapade!)

With the help of Newsday.com, we picked out six establishments to sample.  We eliminated the chains we already knew (Bobby’s Burger Palace and Five Guys Burgers and Fries,) and we know we’re not particularly partial to wedges with lots of potato, so we also dropped Toku in Manhasset from the list.  With a little more research, we had to also remove Roots Bistro Gourmand in West Islip, as it was more of an upscale restaurant and we were looking for grab-and-go places.  This was disappointing, I was most looking forward to trying those fries pictured in the slideshow.  But I have family in WI, so I will make my way there one day.

And we were off!

The lovely Chelsea

The lovely Chelsea

First on our list was the only location east of us, Hot Diggity Dogs in Medford.  Hot dayum, those were some delicious fries.  On the side of a very busy road, Medford Ave (route 112) it’s the tiniest looking stand alone shop from the outside, but the inside was brightly colored and welcoming.

Hot Diggity Dogs

Hot Diggity Dogs

With funny quotes on the walls, and rolls of paper towels instead of napkins, it was a very comfortable stop, even for Chelsea who sat on what looked like a seat taken from a church pew.  It had the number 69 on the arm rest, and I’m a child so I thought that was funny.  I actually inquired on their Facebook page, cause I really want to know where it’s from.  As of yet, no response.

But the fries were fantabulous, lightly seasoned, and they came with three sauces.  The green one belonged on a burrito.  Chels and I usually can handle spicy, but this dip didn’t fit the fries.  The yellow one tasted like a creamy honey mustard, and the last, we discovered, was HDD’s signature Boom Boom Sauce.  It was good, just like any version of Mac Sauce is, but spicier, which I love.  All-in-all a great experience.

Left to right: ...I'm sure you can figure it out.

Left to right: …I’m sure you can figure it out.

We felt kind of full when we left, which was a bad sign.  I made the mistake of ordering us two small fries.  Chelsea, genius that she is, decided we should split an order at our remaining destinations.  Good thinking, girl.

So we made our way to Huntington, which we decided is a grownup’s Patchogue.  That’s a very weird thing to decide, and would take a description of perceived Long Island stereotypes, so I’ll leave that for another day, because I hope to visit Huntington again.

Huntington's European Republic

Huntington’s European Republic

We entered European Republic, a small place squished up between a jeweler and an awesome looking burger place called Top Bunz.  I’d also like to mention the next shop was the Village Creperie, and it took a lot of will power not to just end my journey there.

2013-09-15 17.04.01

Omnomnom

But we shuffled to the back and ordered a not-so-small small fry, which didn’t take long at all.  The wraps we saw all around us looked very good, but we forgot about them when we tried our dish.  Served in a paper cone, they were thicker than I normally enjoy, but it didn’t matter.  Crispy and delicious, we dipped them in the two sauces we picked.  There were tons of crazy combos of sauces, but I’m not much of an adventurer and Chels isn’t much of a decision maker – so we ended up with Barbecue Cheddar (unusually delicious) and Blue Cheese (expectedly delicious.)

It was at this particular location we decided to be more adventurous when it came to our going out experiences.  Chelsea and I want to be those people who go, “Oh, I know a great little place to eat there!”  But for like, everywhere we go.  So, here’s to you, European Republic, for being the eatery that opened our eyes to how blind we were.  And for having outstanding fries.

Our journey doesn’t end here, but unfortunately this post does.  If you enjoyed this, read part 2 for culmination of the Fantastic Fry Forage!

Other fun pictures from the day –Collage