Infatuation

Clearly the updating from home has been harder than I thought. Sorry… It´s been hectic, to say the least. But you know how I feel about the holidays and the Christmas nostalgia is starting to kick in so I guess it´s time to write.

Since Christmas is all about getting together with family and friends I deem it appropriate that we talk about love. So I´m completely infatuated--the type of love that´s kind of sickening. The one people ask you “what´s gotten into you?!” and you just kind of smile with a glee in your eyes and respond, “well, I´m in love.” That sounds so gay. But it´s true. So, who is this mystery person? No man. No woman either. I´m completely straight if you must know (and so is Lady Gaga in case you were wondering).

My love is no other than this god forsaken place I call home.

Were you expecting something more exciting? Well keep reading and you´ll understand why this place makes lovin so easy. (Yes, lovin).

You all know that I think “Colombia is the BEST place in the world.” (Quote me on that one). This is when people start rolling their eyes… yeah yeah Colombia is cool, whatever. No. It´s awesome. And why you haven´t been here is beyond me.

But more so than the country, which is already pretty fabulous, it´s its people. I don´t want to write a tear jerker here or anything like that, but it´s impossible to explain why this place is so amazing without talking about the people. Colombians are great.

First of all, we don´t need sleep (this has been proven these past six days with a total of around 20 hours of sleep). Not sleeping is pretty fabulous because there´s no chance of boredom when one´s up and about every minute of the day. Also, when you don´t sleep you start getting a little crazy. (I know this to be true since MJ decided to take it upon herself to experiment with this theory and pulled two all-nighters in a row. She was somewhat delusional, constantly saying some Asian guy named Yuki was following her). So everyone here is somewhat off. In a good way though. Trust me, it´s good for you to go crazy once in a while. New friendships tend to develop when one´s not completely sane. Or lucid.

So, Colombians. We like to party. That sounds terribly superficial. But, truth be told I´ve created the biggest connections with people at parties. There´s no inhibitions at parties and you discover another side to people during these situations. Well, that, plus the good music, the dressing up and the going crazy (in a different sense) is always fun. And when it comes to partying, Colombians are pretty good at it. But that and sanity, or lack off, is just one part of this love.

My infatuation with this place has to do primarily with the closeness between the people--between my friends and me. There´s just too much trust between all of us. Take my best guy friends for example whom I have known since 5th grade. They saw us go through the duck tits era. (Duck tits: direct Spanish translation. Picture boobs in the shape of ducks). Yes. We all went through that stage and they saw it. Any closer and you guys would be growing duck tits yourself.

Ladies, we suffered together through the duck tits era, so connection is stronger than anything. Isn´t it?

They know too much about me… could potentially be used against me. I can think of that one time when you all saw me pee my pants out of laughter (perhaps I´ll tell this story on a later post).

Oh, beautiful confidence.

For those who are not in Bogota right now… I miss you. For those who are in Bogota… let me sleep.

Merry Christmas fools!

Quick Departure

Friends, avid readers, avid friends, readers who think they´re friends, friends who think they know how to read and you….

I just wanted to let you know that the next post you read will probably be written from Bogota City! That´s right, tomorrow I´m going home. Semester is technically over (minus one terribly procrastinated paper that´s still pending) and it´s time I go back. Back to the Spanish-speaking, real-meat eaters, overall disasters who I call friends. And family of drinkers, as I mentioned in an earlier post. Back to the good, the bad and the drunkenness. Too much? Sorry, Colombia gets me excited.

I suggest that you keep reading the blog because Bogota+theabovementioneddisasters will absolutely deliver good material for posts. I promise.

Good night (and good luck).

Actually,

Disregard the last post. I may have won a battle against technology at last. Believe it or not, yours truly is the proud winner of an 8GB iPod courtesy of a raffle from the NYU Computer Center. After an entire year of iPod-less living I now have two. That´s right, TWO. I gave me an iPod nano as a gift for Thanksgiving. All the work this semester, you know taking three classes, and having class three days a week, and the fact that I had to see my last iPod fall flat face in a pool and drown, earned me my gift… right?

So apparently I entered this raffle (don´t remember when or how) and yesterday I got an email saying I was the winner. I reclaimed my price this morning. A post-it on top of the iPod read: “The winner of this iPod is Laura Steiner.” WINNER. Not the owner or even the champion, but the WINNER. Oh, how I love that word. Actually, why don´t you go ahead and call me winner next time you see me.

So I now have two iPods, but really I only need one. So, if you´re looking for an 8GB iPod touch call me up. I´ll give you a good deal.

Bye Loosers!

I never win

Technology and I have a love-hate relationship. We always battle. I always lose.

For the past two and a half years I have had the worst laptop ever known to mankind. It´s huge, slow (that´s an understatement) and the keyboard is in Spanish. How many times have I used the letter Ñ in the past year? Once. This once.

Thankfully Robi decided to really embrace the Christmas spirit this year and bought me a new Mac. Thanks Robs!

For two whole days your daughter oozed coolness.

But then my blackberry died—(R.I.P. my loyal addiction)—so I´ve been waking up alone (my blackberry slept in my hand) and my right thumb has been gaining weight.

If you think I´m sad for my loss, you should have seen my friends´ faces when I told them I wouldn´t have a blackberry until February. It was as if I had told them I was going to live without a limb for the next three months.

“What Lau?!” they said. Their faces were stun with confusion. “But how will we communicate with you?” You know where I live and face-to-face interaction never hurt anyone. Of course that was my “I´m strong, I don´t need a blackberry” attitude. Really, on the inside I was crying like a child. One who´s favorite doll fell on the street on a rainy day and got squashed by a cab. (True story. It took me 16 years to be able to share it with anyone.)

So I decide I needed a phone, any phone. The cheapest one at AT&T was an old-school black Nokia. You know, one of those that were popular back in the day. Say, circa late 1990´s when the first cell phones came out, Y2K became a household name and the world was possibly coming to an end. Why do you think I was praying so much in 99?

Anyway, back to my new Nokia.

Circa 1990´s Nokia, my ass. This phone has color screen and you can access the internet. Most importantly, you can play Snake on it. Beat that.

So I´m happy, but God forbid Chloe let´s this one slide. She had to post this New York Times article in my facebook wall.

Not cool Tins. There I was thinking I was so cool and unique, when really, once again technology slapped me in my face.

Bingo

This was my last story for my journalism class. I think the subject really defines one of the many aspects of the downtown scene. Thought I share it with you...

Every Monday night, The Bowery Poetry Club is packed with hipsters, foreigners with heavy accents and students. They come together on this trendy block to indulge in an exciting game of… Bingo.

The crowd is lured into Bingo Night by hosts Murray Hill, one of the top names in the downtown comedy showbiz, and famous Big Apple drag queen Linda Simpson. They keep the audience entertained by telling jokes that get raunchier by the minute.

To start off the night, Hill compares his oval shape pen holder to a pickle. Then to a butt plug. And finally to a pickle look-alike penis.

Bingo players laugh hysterically.

Forget about the stereotypes. This game of chance isn’t just popular among senior citizens at Florida retirement homes or charity fund-raisers. Bingo is the cool thing to do these days in the Manhattan neighborhood of Noho.

“I’m proud of the mixed audiences we get and that people mingle over bingo boards,” said Hill. “The energy is always great, and no matter who you are, everyone needs a good laugh.”

The event at 308 Bowery is creating a network of regulars like Dana Sacco.

“I like the energy,” said Sacco a medical resident who graduated from NYU. “I like that everyone gets excited and no one really cares too much about the prize. They care about hanging out together.”

Sacco won her first prize last Monday night—a round mirror with a picture of the Last Supper that radiates multi-coloured lights when plugged in. Other kitschy prizes included a battery-operated wooden parrot that repeats everything you say, a Hannah Montana puzzle, a light saber and four free drinks.

Those drinks, however, came with a challenge. The winner had to stand naked on stage with only one prop to cover any part of his body—a tiny plate. Once the challenge was completed, the brave player got the free drinks.

The crowd went wild.

An unexpected twist to a regular Bingo game. The only thing that remains the same at Bingo Night is the way it is played. Your fate is based on a card that displays a total of 25 numbers, arranged horizontally and vertically over five columns. The word BINGO is on the top corresponding to each row. The host calls out numbers at random and if the player finds that number on the card, it must be crossed out. Once an entire row, in either direction, has been covered the player must yell “BINGO!” The card is checked by the host to prove accuracy. If it turns out not to be accurate the round continues.

Bingo in the U.S. has become increasingly popular especially in the online gaming community. Websites such as www.bingozone.com, and www.playlivebingo.com host Bingo competitions as well. However, none are as lively or as unexpected as Bingo at The Bowery Poetry Club.

“I came in not knowing anything,” said Daniel Lloyd, 23, who was there to celebrate a friend’s birthday and was happy to win the light saber. “Expectations were exceeded. I loved it!”

New prizes are showcased every week. But there is one prize that never changes. The final prize given out each Monday night is the money that has been collected from selling the $2 Bingo cards. It usually adds up to more than $100. To win, you must cover every single number on your Bingo card.

Monday Bingo Night runs from 7:30 to 10 p.m. Alcohol runs steady all night. By the third round of the game voices yelling out “Bingo!” slowly become more confident. The crowd gets increasingly excited as the jokes become more vulgar. Apparently a male dolphin ejaculates at 75 mph, according to Murray Hill.

Next prize? A small toy dolphin.

“I loved it and I’m definitely going to bring people over,” said Katie Parrish, 20, originally from Melbourne Australia. Parrish, who moved to Brooklyn two months ago, was one of the few players who came to Bingo night by herself. By the end of the night, Parrish had made friends with a French guy sitting beside her. Bingo!

Setting the Record Straight

I have been clearly lying to you. This blog is not about things going on below 14th street, this blog is about me. About things that happen to me, about things I think and things I care about.

This blog started out as an assignment for my journalism class. It was a requirement to have some sort of theme tying the posts together. I thought reporting about downtown Manhattan would be a good idea. After all, if there´s anywhere in the world that you can find a good story it´s below 14th street. And considering my readers are mostly my friends (you better be reading this) I figured downtown provides stories that suffice all of YOUR interests. How thoughtful of me.

But class is over and the truth is that I do not want to stop blogging. But also I find that focusing only on one area limits my options. So I have decided that, although I´m keeping the same name, the stories are going to by about anything.

Most of the posts will still focus in this area of Manhattan because…well, because I live here. And because downtown Manhattan is inspiring. But if you see other themes don´t be surprised.

To start this new blogging phase I thought I would link you to another blog I have written for this semester--- http://www.idontlikemondays.us/blog.html. The blog is part of an online fashion boutique that carries new designers and has AWESOME clothes. Most of the posts are about alternative cultural events. It´s different and I think it´s cool. You should seriously check it out.

........

Hm, weird post.

Let´s go back in time

As a 21-year-old student originally from Colombia, I thought for sure it was too late to ever experience the political energy that took place in the U.S. during the ‘60s. But then I discovered Yippie Café, a coffee shop that makes me feel like I didn’t completely miss that determinative decade after all.

Stepping through the dented metal front door of this hangout at 9 Bleecker St. is like going into a time machine. I can sit on vintage leather couches with a couple of gray-haired coffee drinkers, reading magazines that date back to 1977, humming along to the Beatles and Paul Simon songs that fill the air.

The prices on the menu feel like a throwback to an earlier time too. A cup of free-trade, organic Guatemalan coffee costs 75 cents. It’s also possible to get just about any tea combination you can think of for $1.75. The chai and cinnamon tea blend won me over. And the bagel -- with the exact amount of cream cheese I had asked for and no more -- was delicious. Also, a pretty good deal considering I only paid $2.50 for the bagel.

You can also find butter croissants for $1.50 and mouth-watering blueberry muffins for $2. However, for those looking to stay off carbs and caffeine, the options are varied too. Natural juices, promoted as “high health” drinks, are very popular. You can create your own blend of apple, lemon, ginger, beet, carrot or spinach juice. Sizes vary between 8ounces for $3 and 16ounces for $5.

Not surprisingly, these bargains are attracting a new clientele -- college students who come to Yippie Café looking for low prices, free Wifi good music – and a great alternative to the usual Starbucks and Think Coffee.

This 36-year-old hangout only became a café in 2007, according to café management. Before that, it was a meeting place for yippies, members of the politically-driven Youth International Movement which was established in 1967. Yippies were active in the anti-war movement and supported the legalization of marijuana. There is still an 8-foot cannabis leaf painting that decorates one of the coffee shop’s walls.

Today, activism has given way to reminiscing. Yippies come not just for the food but for conversation with old friends. Eavesdrop on the older customers, and you’ll hear phrases like “the great ´60s,” “a time when New York was affordable” and “the great minds who stepped into this place.”

“It´s hard to get a bunch of yippies out of this place,” said self-proclaimed New York yippie, Paul DeRienzo.

Tucked in this quiet residential block, Yippie Cafe has remained unscathed by the area's transformation into a trendy, new neighborhood of 2009 prices and scrawny hipsters plugged into their iPods. But when I step through those dented metal front doors, I am confident when I say this: I would have enjoyed living in the 1960´s. Perhaps, even being a Yippie.