long time no see.

So, I'm officially living life post graduate degree. That's right, it's Master Jessi to you.

And everything's coming up Milhouse, if you will.

Less than a month after receiving my receipt for graduate school (ie. my diploma), I have gone and gotten myself a job at a charter school in Harlem.

On top of that, I'm going to the land of milk and honey tomorrow. That's right folks, Israel. I'll be making my pilgrimage tomorrow evening via El Al with a group of 40 people I've never met before. It's sure to be filled with awkward moments, cheesey photo opportunities, and a fair amount of xanax. But, for real, it's going to be pretty amazing. I've heard nothing but good things, so I'm pretty excited to make this jaunt.

But, rewind a little, to my graduation. How New York could my graduation get? I had two ceremonies. My graduate commencement was at....that's right, Radio City Music Hall. And the all university commencement? Yankee Stadium.

In the course of 24 hours, I walked across the stage that countless high kicks were executed on, sat in a famous baseball arena packed with 32,000 of my classmates, and took a celebretory shot of tequila with my immediate family at a dingy bar across the street from the stadium in the Bronx.

I rounded off the celebratory week with an equally fabulous and overwhelming shopping experience with my best friend Mica. On a Saturday afternoon, we went to SoHo, Chinatown, and Century 21. Basically, we were just asking to be mauled by tourists. But Mica managed to score three realistic looking handbags in the course of 10 minutes, while I spoke french to a West African man named Sharif, who could sell flaming feces to just about anyone.

So, it was a pretty New York type of week. Actually, it's been a pretty New York kind of year and a half.
And it's sure to be a pretty New York type of trip to Israel.

Here's to traveling for 10 days with East Coasters!

Today, on the uptown 6, I got into an intelligent and heated conversation about the all-too-talked about (already) Spitzer scandal. My peers in this conversation? Well, me of course, 20 something grad student. 50 something year old white working stiff, donning a gray trench and black leather briefcase. And teen aged dude, bling in his ears, girlfriend on his arm.

It all started because the high school kid was talking way too loudly on the train (which, by the way, is generally the case on any subway I've ever been on. Children under the age of 18 who aren't practically screaming at all times, don't actually exist). He was reading working stiff's newspaper over his shoulder and asking him obnoxious questions, maybe to get a rise out of him, who really knows. Anyway, he says, "Whatever, can't blame the guy. He cheated on his wife. Big deal."


The debate ensued. I will not go into details as this widely publicized debate will be an awful reincarnation of the Clinton debacle, but I will say this. Goddamned if I don't love New York City.

We're a diverse group with tons of different opinions, and thank god we ALL are willing to voice them.


That is all.

On this rainy night in New York City, I'd like to talk about an experience I had tonight with a delivery driver.

Let me just ask a question.


Let's say you work for a restaurant. And they give you the wrong address for which to deliver food. So you get to this wrong address, you buzz, the person answers and says they didn't order food. What would you do?

Call the restaurant? Excuse yourself and go back to work? No, you would give them the food anyway. Apparently that is accepted practice.

Anyway, after two hours, I finally got the food I ordered, free, and ice cold. Meh, it's fine. I'll get over it.

What I won't get over is the fact that I've been literally incapabale of choosing an appropriate jacket lately. Since I moved to New York, I've learned never to wear TOO heavy of a jacket when leaving the house. There IS a science behind this. If you wear a jacket that is too heavy, you get way too hot while walking. But if you take said jacket off, there is the danger that you will be too cold.

My problem is, I usually always go for the lightest jacket possible. And then I'm running the six blocks home from the subway. I'll have to work on this.

I'd also like to use this forum to publicly speak out against the homeless man on Waverly and Broadway outside the deli. You know, the guy with the witty signs like, "Need money for NYU tuition," or "Voldemort broke my wand. Need money for a new one." Sure some people go for the whole "homeless guy making jokes on his signs so I better give him money" type thing. But personally, I don't go for the whole "homeless guy who calls me a tightwad cunt." So fuck that guy. Also, there is always some hipster sitting on his milkcrate with him. What could they possibly be talking about? I don't understand. He is MEAN.


Okay that's all tonight.

rathbone's for chicken bones

Since we moved into the upper east apartment, Adam won't stop talking about how he's heard the best wings in New York City are all within blocks of our apartment. So tonight, being 25 cent wing night at Rathbone's, we ventured out to try the goods. Well he did. Years of Jewish food have left me with no tolerance for spicy food.

I had a burger...it was good, but why did it need to have an english muffin for a bun. I'd much rather have a big, eggy challah roll.

Apparently the wings were delicious which is a good thing.

And there was a really sparse amount of sawdust on the floor, another thing I didn't understand. But besides all those small things, I thought it was fun neighborhood bar. The service was good, we sat in a nice booth...it was a good time.


Meanwhile, since I don't drive very often in the city, I was pleasantly surprised while driving on the FDR from the Brooklyn Bridge up to 96th street. What a nice ride, like lake shore drive.





So that's it. Here's to 2-4 inches of snow on Friday. Can't wait.

New York navigation

Here's an interesting thing I've noticed. Appropriate, but interesting nonetheless.

I've lived here for a little over a year. I can pretty much get anywhere. Unless I'm driving. Then I'm a total tourist. Simple things like which streets run uptown and which run downtown simply baffle me. The concepts of north, south, east, west? Like a different language.

All of a sudden I forget everything I knew about New York City and feel like I should just follow a cab, I'll probably end up somewhere interesting.


I say this because today I will be venturing to the thriving metropolis that is Nazareth, PA. Actually very excited, should be a relaxing drive and accompanying evening.



Side note:
The mouse has been captured...but not without a fair amount of thinking on my part. I actually had to outsmart the mouse. I had to think of a way that HE wouldn't have already thought of. I actually took a glue trap, stuck three toothpicks in it vertically, with a piece of my dog's kibble laying atop. I woke up this morning and SUCCESS.

I will sleep well tonight knowing I don't have a small furry friend dragging ketchup packets across my kitchen floor.

on lotteries; carts

So I was reading on Gothamist today about this school teacher who won a lottery to get an Upper East Side studio for $14,000. Which is ridiculous. So, good for him..but what makes me nervous is...

Where was this guy teaching that paid him SO little he had to WIN A LOTTERY for an apartment? Seriously, is my future teaching career looking that bleak? Should I be signing up for this lottery?


In other news, I'm having an issue with my grocery cart that I bring to the market. Initially, I bought it so I could fit in the with the old Italian ladies who lived near my prior apartment in Brooklyn. But because I lived in a third floor walkup, I never wanted to carry it up the stairs.

Now, I live on the ground floor, which is awesome, but I have something to say about these carts. While useful, are they made out of garbage? Seriously, within one use, I managed to break the little clip that holds it together, I've ripped the handle, and I'm feeling self conscious about it in my super swank new neighborhood.

Plus, let's be honest, if you're going to have one, you can only shop at big grocery stores, no delis or independent groceries are in your future. Navigating through those tiny aisles requires a separate driver's license.

So that's what's happening on the Upper East Side today....still no capture on the mouse. I'm starting to accept my new roommate. Is that a compromise NYC demands?

Pest up

Though I've lived in New York City for over a year, I will never get used to the inevitable amount of rodents and insects that cohabitate within your apartment. They don't discriminate against my shoebox apartment or my closet sized kitchen. But the mouse in question is exceptional. Exceptional in the sense that he/she has outsmarted me...twice.

Exhibit A- Your standard mouse trap...mouse eats bait (in this case peanut butter, as I've heard mice will accept no less), mouse activates trigger, and boom! Broken neck. Easy, right?

Not when you're dealing with my little friend. For the past two nights, he's spent his time licking the bait clean, enjoying that peanut butter, probably drinking some milk to wash it down. Meanwhile, this mouse is NOT suffering the consequences. There is no BOOM. There is no broken neck. There is just delicious peanut butter going to waste.


Exhibit B- The mouse comes out in daylight. He's fucking with me, I know. But this little guy feels it necessary to gallavant across my kitchen only at times when I can see it happening.

Result? Glue trap on the floor.

If that doesn't work? I've got backup.





UPDATE: I caught the mouse...for two minutes....and he outsmarted me again. He got stuck to the glue trap, and somehow wedged himself under the oven, still attached to the trap, and wiggled his way out. Seriously, respect.