Reliving the Magic

Wilma and I got our New York photos back today, and may I just say that you will never find two hotter people in all your life, so just give up the search now. I'm surprised we weren't approached by a modeling agency and signed on the spot while we were in Manhattan. Oh well.

But seriously, these pictures are quite hilarious. The funniest ones are of Wilma: There's Wilma hopping on a pogo stick, Wilma on the subway looking like she has 2 lazy eyes, and (this is the best one) Wilma holding "The Rabbit"--and we're not talking the cute, floppy-eared, carrot-loving kind, if ya know what I'm sayin'. Don't worry, Wilma's not some kind of sex-crazed freak, it was just part of the Sex & the City tour. But it's still funny.

Mission: Manhattan

As anticipated, the New York trip kicked all sorts of ass. Read all about the scandalous escapades of Feeley and Wilma here.
Day 1: Manhattan or Bust
We began our journey before daybreak to catch the 8 am flight out of Atlanta. Despite some confusion as we tried to locate the elusive (non-existent, actually, but we didn't find that out until later) North Terminal Park & Fly lot, we eventually managed to make it into the airport without serious incident. Since we were flying standby, we couldn't check any luggage, so my carry-on bag was hilariously large. The airport people didn't give me any shit about it, though; I guess they figured if I could lug the thing all over the damn airport, they might as well let me bring it along. Anyway, as we were passing through security there was a "Code Orange" and the security people made everyone freeze while the situation was dealt with. Poor Wilma was in the middle of being frisked, so she had to "freeze" with her arms out at her sides. Luckily, it wasn't all that long, but she still felt the burn.

Once we got through security and made it up to the gate, we had time to get a quick bite to eat before finally boarding the plane. We both wanted window seats, so we were seated in the same row, just on opposite sides. We might as well have just gotten aisle seats because our "window seats" were in the very back of the plane, so all we could actually see out our respective windows were the wings and the engine thingies, and a tiny triangle of an actual viewing window. Whatever. I still got a bird's eye view of the city and started to get really giddy before we even landed.

Two hours and $60 later, we stumbled out of LaGuardia and into a cab. The cab took us to Wilma's friend Welly's apartment where we were staying. (Now would be a good time to say that Welly is the bestest guy in the whole world and I will forever be in his debt for his awesome hospitality and the great time he showed us.) We had some trouble getting in touch with him, but finally he came down to the lobby and let us up. He lives across from the seaport, so we walked around down there for awhile and then ate at a restaurant called Carmine's. We walked around a little more, and saw a little more of Welly's area of town, then went back and got ready for the evening.

Next, we began our quest for Broadway tickets. We took the subway to Times Square and went to put our names in the lottery for Rent. Of course, since we can't go more than a couple of hours without eating, we took a break for pretzels and then another break for Starbucks. Finally, we made it to the box office, but unfortunately, Rent was not having a show that night. Bummer. So we walked 11 blocks to Hairspray!, but we missed the deadline for the ticket lottery by about 20 minutes. Bummer again. We thought about waiting around for standby seats or whatever, but then we decided to walk back down and get in the TKTS line and try to see Aida because we had heard that it doesn't sell out. As luck would have it, we got seats, so we could then turn our attention to our next mission: dinner.

We decided to go for a nice large greasy slice of pizza. Mmm-mmm, good. And actually, that's exactly what the nice greasy guy that worked there thought about Wilma. The pizza was good even though Wilma had to endure the Greaser's constant lame attempts at hitting on her, and then we made our way to the theater.

I don't really have much to say about the show itself except that I enjoyed it. I'm not a theater buff, nor do I claim to be, but even though we got Deborah Cox's understudy in the title role, it seemed to be a good show.

We caught a cab back down to Welly's, changed clothes, and decided to take a stroll across the Brooklyn Bridge. This was something I really wanted to do just because you get such a beautiful view of everything, so Wilma and Welly were kind enough to humor me as we trudged along at like 12:30 am. The weather was at least fair; it was raining just a tiny, tiny little bit, and it was a little windy, but it wasn't unbearably cold or torrentially downpouring or anything. In keeping with tradition, on the way back from our walk we had to stop at McDonald's for some sustenance. The staff of the McDonald's was NOT very accomodating, as we found out when some guy wandered in with his dog in tow. The friendly worker people made a huge scene about this, but finally gave him his Strawberry shake and let him go on his way. After that, we made our way back and called it a night.

Day 2: A True NY Experience

We slept til about 11 or so, then got up and got ready, and headed out for a day of wandering around the city. Again, we couldn't go more than half a block without some food, so we stopped in at a local pizza joint for a quick bite. We then hopped on the subway and rode up to Chinatown. Wilma and I both had a hankerin' for a knock-off Louis Vuitton bag, so we visited damn near all the little shops around these parts that had handbags. As anyone who has been to Chinatown knows, there are a LOT of little shops. Of course, it didn't take long before we worked up enough of an appetite to head on over to Little Italy for some real Italian cuisine. We chose a quaint little place with delicious Italian-style cheesecake and had a lovely lunch. There was a bit of a mishap involving a trick door as we tried to leave, but other than that lunch was pleasantly uneventful.

After lunch number 2, we continued our quest for the perfect purse. I got some souvenir t-shirts while we were in Chinatown since they were cheaper there than anywhere else we had been. Wilma helped herself to a couple of souvenirs and after a little while we decided to head back to Welly's apartment. Unfortunately, Welly was unreachable (again), so we walked around and window-shopped at the Seaport for a little over an hour until we finally got in touch with him to let us in the apartment. By this time, we really only had time to get cleaned up and make ourselves presentable to go to the show, which was a tad disappointing since Wilma was supposed to be getting her fake I.D. during this time.

Anyway, we got ready and together made the executive (and ultimately regrettable) decision to take a cab to the show. I don't know if it was the part of town we were in or the time of day or what, but we could not get a cab to save our lives. It was awful. We were already pressed for time in a big way, and this cab dilemma was only adding to our stress levels. Finally, a cabbie that was off-duty stopped and asked us where we were headed. We told him, and he let us in. Big mistake. Dude took us a roundabout way, and then let us off "a couple of blocks" from where we wanted to go because he "had to go". Why, in the name of all that is good and holy, did you tell us you would take us then, you meanie?? Anyway, he dropped us at like 45th and 5th, and we wanted to be at 41st between 7th & 8th, so again we had to march several blocks in our going-out attire. When we finally saw the Rent sign in the distance, we were hungry, tired, and thoroughly stressed out. True to form, we at least darted in a sub place and ate a quick supper before rushing into the theater.

The show was cute and funny, but honestly, I was just happy to be anywhere at that point, and the fact that we got to sit down was a nice bonus. Unlike Aida the night before, there were all manner of people at this show. I don't know how we got so lucky, but Wilma and I were seated behind a large group of mutants from Missouri. I'm not trying to hate on the state of Missouri or anything, because God knows there are some fuglies here in Georgia as well, but I have never seen such a large group of unattractive people gathered together in a public place in my life.

Anyway, we bid fairwell to the fuglies at the theater and took the subway back to Welly's. On the way, we rain across a man selling bootlegged movies, some of which are still in theaters. I bought two DVDs for my brothers and Wilma got a movie as well. We got back to Welly's place and got ready to go out.

We got on the subway to meet up with Welly's friend who works at a Starbucks in the West Village, then went to a gay club called Detention. It was only like midnight so the club was kind of boring, so we decided to hit up a bar. Before we made it into a bar, we stopped at Gray's Papaya for a nice hotdog. We also walked by Hollywood Tans, Welly's former place of employment, and got to see Kenny the Homeless Man. When we walked by, Kenny said "Wow." Then we walked to some bar that Welly's knew about, but it wasn't there any more, so then we went to a bar called The Bitter End, but there was a scary bouncer guy and since Wilma is only 20 and still didn't have a fake, we went to a bar right down the street called the Peculier Pub. It wasn't terribly peculier, but the drink prices were reasonable so we proceeded to lube up. We started out with a drink called a Mindracer, then a Purple Motherfucker, a shot called liquid cocaine, and some others that I don't really remember. We played some songs on the jukebox, including Wilma's random selection from The Cure and "September" by Earth Wind & Fire courtesy of Welly's friend.

Once we had a good buzz going, we started back towards Detention. We stopped back by Gray's Papaya for another hotdog, but I wasn't hungry so I just watched. We made it back to Detention just in time for the drag show and some kind of Dance competition, then we proceeded to dance the night away. All in all it was a great time even if it was a gay club.

On the way back from the club we stopped at the McDonald's near Welly's dorm, but since it was like 5 am they were changing the menus over and we had to wait forever. All Welly wanted was an order of hashbrowns, but the crazy lady that worked there wanted to give him shit for awhile first. Wilma and I just waited in a booth, and Wilma layed her head on the table and started to doze off. Unfortunately for her, the wild-eyed man mopping the McDonald's floors saw her, toddled over, and blew his whistle in her ear. I couldn't believe it, and neither could she, even though it was so bizarre it was kind of funny.

After Welly finally got his hashbrowns, we went back to the apartment and our second night in New York officially came to a close.

Day 3: Zsa Zsa Zsu

Again, we didn't get up until early afternoon, and we had to go next door and conjure Welly out of bed. We were hungry as usual, so we went to eat at Red's in the seaport. Then we hustled back to the West Village so Wilma could get her fake I.D. Then we got a cab and rode up to the Plaza Hotel to catch the bus for the Sex & the City tour.

The tour was great fun; we got to see so much and being the huge Sex & the City fans that we are, we just loved it. Some of the highlights included taking pictures at Carrie's stoop on Perry St in the West Village, the Pleasure Chest sex shop, the complimentary cupcake, Pat Field's store called Venus, and Steve and Aidan's bar where we drank Cosmopolitans.

The tour dropped us back off at the Plaza around 6:30 and so we walked around that area of town for a little while. Then, fate shown down on us and we came across a man selling designer bags that he had wrapped up in a large sheet (because that's not shady in the least). I found the Louis Vuitton bag I had been wanting, and I also saw a cute Gucci bag and I really nice Coach bag that my mom would have loved. I was running low on cash, though, and this high-class establishment here on the corner didn't take credit cards, so I just bought my Louis bag for $30. It was still wrapped up and had the original pricetag on it that read $519.80. Ha. So it was like 93% off. Anyway, Wilma got a cute Kate Spade wallet, and then we were on our way.

We walked back towards Times Square and started looking for knock-off bags again. The very first place we looked, we found a woman loitering on the corner near the table of knock-off bags. She motioned for us and asked us what we were looking for; turns out she, too, had acquired some designer merchandise that had "fallen off the back of a truck". She had the bag Wilma wanted, but the price she was asking would have made poor Wilma pretty broke, so they cut a deal so that Wilma could afford it. She also had the wallet that matched the bag I bought from the other guy, so I bought it.

Now that we had our Louis, our lives were complete and we could go eat. We ate at a place called Pig-n-Whistle or something, and it was real good as I was real hungry. Then we walked around a little longer and did a little more souvenir shopping before heading back to Welly's for the night.

Way too soon, it was time to head back to Hotlanta.  We didn't get on the 6am but got on the 6:50 instead and we touched down in Atlanta at about 9:45. The trip was so awesome.  I seriously cannot wait to go back, and if I ever become independently wealthy, make plans to come visit me, because I will be residing in New York.

Which Classic Novel do You Belong In?
brought to you by Quizilla

In my not so humble opinion, you, of course, belong
in the Picture of Dorian Gray, and do not try
to deny it. You belong in the fashionable
circles of Victorian London where exotic
tastes, a double life, decadence, wit and a
hypocritical belief in moral betterment make
you a home. You belong where the witty
apothegms of Lords, the silly moralities of
matrons, the blinding high of opium, and the
beauty of visual arts mingle to form one
convoluted world.

...

Well, I haven't blogged in awhile because my brother, the much-heralded Dick, was in a serious motorcycle accident on Saturday, March 6. A helicopter ride, a couple nights on a ventilator, 5 nights in Trauma ICU, one surgery, 5 more nights in the hospital, and one personality-altering head injury later, and Dick is finally recuperating at home. Thanks for all the well-wishes.

So, it was a crazy/bizarre/scary/stressful/insert other negative adjective week, and there's really no need to go into it at all, but I do want to say that my mom and I stayed at the [tricked out] Ronald McDonald house, and that place is seriously a lifesaver. I never thought I would ever have occasion to stay there (and hopefully I never will again), but when the need arose, it was so nice and such a huge load off. All this is just to say if you think about it, next time you're at the MACDonalds, drop your spare change into the little collection box. The place is amazing, and who knows, you or your family may need to stay there someday.

Oh Happy Day

Guess what! I have officially dropped a pants size! And I'm really excited about it!

Now, you're probably thinking something along the lines of, "What size might that be, fatty," or "Try dropping a few more sizes, lardo." Just for the record, your criticism is neither productive nor appreciated. And also? Shut up, you parade-rainer-oner.

It should also be noted that I've been kind of between these two sizes anyway, like in most brands I used to wear the higher size, but in a few brands I could wear the smaller. However, when I went shopping today I fit nicely into all of the jeans of the smaller size that I tried on, so I guess that means I'm officially the smaller size. I found some jeans that I really, really liked at Abercrombie and I wanted to get 3 of them (one of each wash) because good jeans are hard to find, but I didn't because A) I'm so broke I can barely pay attention, and they were definitely $60 a pop, and B) They are a little bit TOO BIG!! My "smaller size"! Is too big! For me! Woo hoo! Granted, they ARE from A & F, whose jeans always seem a little bigger, but I don't care.

In other news, my brother Dick and his friend Cod came to the apartment last night because they had a college visit this morning. We had a friggin' blast. That is all.

The Diet Chronicles, Ch 5

Even though I'm not losing weight as rapidly as I did at first (if I would get off my lazy, fat ass every once in awhile that would probably change), I was still really excited when I went home this weekend to find that I now weigh the same as my youngest brother, The Maz. See, I've been much smaller than my other brother, Dick, since he was 12 and I was 15. He now comes in at a massive 6'2, 200 lbs, so as you can see, he's always been a big guy. The Maz, on the other hand, has only recently surpassed me in height (Only by like an inch and a half, and I still like to claim we're the same height, thankyouverymuch) and now that wrestling season is over and he's not watching his weight as closely and I have started (attempting) to watch mine, it looks like he will outweigh me in the next week or so. I'm sure it was bound to happen eventually because, even though he is the perpetual runt, he IS a guy and thus had to get bigger at some point. However, I can still use this little milestone to stroke my ego and give myself motivation to continue to do well on this diet.

Oh, and I'm also excited that Lent has begun, because now when people ask me why I'm not eating carb-packed foods, I can claim I've given them up for Lent instead of shamefully confessing the real reason, namely, because I NEED TO. So that's the diet update. Eat a Krispy Kreme and drink a beer for me, will ya?

Quote: "The only thing left for me is to become the biggest drunk this town has ever seen!" whines Bart.
"Talking won't get you there," says Homer, slugging from his can of beer.

Where have YOU been??

There's this kid in my Practical Criticism class that I have a sudden and incorrigible crush on. I've never noticed him before, but today when our professor broke us up into groups to discuss the finer points of Helene Cixous's take on James Joyce, God shined down on me and placed me in his group. He was Mr. Personality towards me, what with the grinning and the liking of my ideas and the doodling on my notebook. I'm sure he was just being friendly and I'm sure he has a beautifulsmarttalentedperfect girlfriend, but it was fun to have a cute, smart, witty guy to flirt with for a class period. Lord knows those are few and far between around these parts (Although I haven't tapped the hottie pool that is my Criminal Justice class. It's on the agenda.) Unfortunately, he sits aaaaaaall the way across the room, and I sit by the door, so unless we miraculously get grouped together again, I'll have to drool from afar. Ah well.