The Diary of a FanGirl

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Doctor Who World Tour NYC
(Spoiler free)

#DWWorldTour #doctorwho

I had an amazing day today, hanging out on 54th st with about 1400(??) Whovians. (A Whovian is a special Breed of loyal fans of the BBC longtime hit, Doctor Who.) For ten hours, we were standing, sitting, shifting and dancing in line, climbing the barricades, banging out the time lord drum beat on anything we could hit, singing the theme song, laughing, playing, quoting, trivia’ing, screaming and crying.

Now, you may be asking “ten hours?? WHY?!” With all of the exclamation points and question marks and, probably, about fourteen emojis…. “Why ten hours? Why Doctor Who? Why why why singing-dancing-drumming-etc-etc-and so-on?!” Well – and i promise to keep this short – Doctor Who is an adventure that has been on the air since 1963 (yes, before Star Trek), and it is the story of an outsider who disagreed with the laws of his species, stole a spaceship that travels through time and space, and ran away to explore the universes. (Whew. Told you: short.) (oh, wait, there’s more)

“This is one corner of one country, in one continent, on one planet that’s a corner of a galaxy, that’s a corner of a universe, that is forever shrinking and creating and destroying, and never remaining the same for a single millisecond. And there is so much–so much to see. Because it goes fast. I’m not running away. I’m running to them. Before they flare and fade forever” (The Doctor, s7e3 “The Power of Three”).

It just so happens that this man — this alien — this Time Lord is a quirky, goofy, maladjusted, socially inept, absolutely brilliant Leader-Genius-Hero who stumbles upon distress and imminent doom everywhere he goes, and, thus, despite his eternal vacation intentions, he ends up traveling around and saving worlds, which, frankly, is fitting because he is called The Doctor.

He, like so many of our favorite and most idolized heroes, is plagued with tragedy, steeped in regret and doubt, and trying his absolute damnedest to live up to the promise he made to himself, the promise that lies in his name, and he doesn’t always succeed.

“When you began all those years ago, sailing off to see the universe, did you ever think you’d become this? The man who can turn an army around at the mention of his name. ‘Doctor’: the word for healer and wiseman throughout the universe. We get that word from you, you know. But if you carry on the way you are, what might that word become? To the people of the Gamma Forests, the word ‘Doctor’ means Mighty Warrior’. How far you’ve come. And now they’ve taken a child – the child of your best friends – and they’re going to turn her into a weapon just to bring you down. And all of this, my love, in fear of you” (Doctor Who, s6e7: “A Good Man Goes To War”).

Now, “why,” you ask? Because who wouldn’t find her personal hero in an adventurous, quirky genius who is resolute in his beliefs? He is a man who demands justice where it lacks, finds beauty where it may seem impossible, and stands tall and brave against adversity.

SO, after nearly twelve months of anticipation, the premiere episode of series 8 was screening at The Ziegfeld Theatre in Midtown Manhattan, hosted by Chris Hardwick (The Nerdist), and attended by the actors who play The Doctor and his human companion, and the show runner and head writer, Steven Moffat, himself. The genius behind the laptop. So, Whovians united on 54th St. and waited ten hours, hoping to catch a glimpse, and watch the Series Eight premiere episode, “Deep Breath.”

So: we dance. We sing. We recite whole monologues and reenact episodes. We drum the beat of the Time Lord’s hearts (yes: plural).

Then, after what seems like a eternity, an old fashioned taxi rolled up and Mr Capaldi, Ms Coleman, and Mr Steven Moffat emerged, and the already-palpable crowd absolutely erupted.

Being at the apex of such passionate enthusiasm is a rush of energy that overwhelms you in a wave, enveloping you completely, the way a blanket hugs during a Christmas movie, or a pillow comforts during a horror flick. It’s, well….it’s home.

And then we watched the episode.

💞

Flor de Sol

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Spending my time at The High Line Park in NY. Beautiful. Easily my favorite Manhattan park.

Yes, because it’s a park and the beauty of the park and some of the views… But mainly, I think i love it the best because of which neighborhoods at which it lets you out. The west village and Chelsea are the most beautiful neighborhoods in Manhattan. From the cobbled streets of the meat packing district to the modern architecture in Chelsea, finishing off with the ancient stones and wrought iron fences of the oldest practically untouched West Village. Brownstone town houses, trees upon trees upon trees, and the most ritzy-niche brunch spots south of east 60th st. This is where the money is. The culture and the money. The beauty and the serenity and the high-octane energy in the cocktail only New York has perfected.

Stroll down 13th st toward to water and you’ll find yourself transported to the south of France at Standard Grill, High Line. Turn right on 10th ave and promenade along the high line to 17th street, where you’ll slide into Spain at Flor de Sol — be sure to remark the interior design because: WOW.

This has been a mini New York love story.

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Overheard New York (1st Edition)

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This is a collection I’ve started, and I’d like to call it “Overheard New York.” 

They’re bits and pieces of conversational gems I’ve collected over the last eight months living in New York. Enjoy.

 

Basket of apples in front of the register. Guy Walks up.
Guy: I’ll just take an apple.
Cashier: We don’t sell apples.
He picks one up and shows her
Guy: They’re right here.
Cashier: We don’t sell those.
Guy: Then why the fuck are they sitting here?
Another employee whispers to cashier. (“we do sell those”)
Silence.
Cashier: That’ll be 75 cents, sir.       –  May 16, 2014, Chelsea

 

“I don’t know if I’m staying. I don’t have cash. I only have card.”
“We are a cash-only establishment, sir.”
“You know the presence of good cannot exist without the present of evil.” And he leaves.– Caffe Reggio, Greenwich Village

 

Patron: “What’s on tap?”
Bartender: “Me”
Patron: “Great. I’ll have 2 Merlots & a pitcher of you.” – Dec 6, 2013, Upper East Side

 

New Yorker: What am I saying? I grew up in NY. Idk what a lawn mower is. – Oct 14, 2013, Greenwich Village

 

“I mean, you’re so right. Everything’s, like, connected. The brain to the stomach, ya know, the heart, the brain … the stomach.” – May 9, 2014, West Village

 

“There’s someone for you. Like what you used to tell me when I was young: when I wanted the white pony with the blonde mane? ‘There’s someone out there for everyone.’” – bald middle-aged Russian man on a phone in Central Park (overheard NY)

“You don’t have to be congress to pass a bill.” – homeless man, panhandling, 6 train.

 

“Those girls? Nah, all the only recommendation I’d take from them is ice cream shops in Brooklyn.” – June 3, 2014, West Village

 

“The Path Train”
“The what?”
“The PATH train. It’s like the subway, but less glamorous.” May 21, 2014 (Brendan Comfort’s facebook)

How are you, and is God dead?

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It’s not destiny. There isn’t a PUPPET master up there, toying with the delicate balance of 7 billion human lives +however-many-billion more of nonhuman lives.

It’s energy. We are all energy. Energy attracts and repels, is neither created nor destroyed blah blah, etc. Energy is our makeup.

I’m not experiencing déjà vu on this doorstep because of some master getting his kicks for his illustrious plan. I’m not tingling with the magnetism of been-there-done-that because of capital-D-destiny or a glitch in the Matrix.
Each choice we make branches a different path – a parallel universe, and déjà vu is the shiver of familiarity when 2 or more of my Selves experience the exact same moment across universes.

We don’t find ourselves in these Moments Of Commonality – often surrounded by the same souls, hence the tingle – because it’s Destiny, or Planned, or Meant To Be. We all end up there because our energies attract. Because we jive. Our Selves, on an elemental level, vibrate at similar frequencies, and we pulled each other in as Close and Personal as it gets. We Connected, if only for a moment.

Déjà Vu is a shared experience along all the millions of versions of you, reminding you that, at your core, you are You, true, honest, and raw, and that You is whom you need to listen to.

Instinct. Energy. Magnetism. That’s what life is.

Trust it. Trust You.

War in a post-war building.

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Last night around midnight, my lovely neighbor-to-the-north decided it was the best time to declare war on her dusties. So she plugged in the vacuum and scraped it across her floor (read: my ceiling) for 45 minutes.

If you’ve never been in this lucky position, it sounds like someone is taking a saw to your piping while simultaneously scratching nails on all the chalkboards. I’d gone to bed at nine, knowing I’d have to be awake at the ungodly hour of 7o’clock, and you can imagine how frustrated I was at this.

So, naturally, I did what any rational adult would do and stomped and banged on the walls and screamed “shut the fuck up; I’ll kill you.” until I was satisfied that she’d heard me.

Maybe I’ll put a sign on the front door…

mixed tape

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If I could travel back to 1993, I would make myself a mixed tape. A gift to 25 y/o me. On it, written in fine-point sharpie over white spike tape, it would read “for your anxiety. Slay Your Dragons.” with a heart.

 

Mixed Tape: This is my jam 2014

“Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons
“Sail” by AWOLNATION
“Tainted Love” by Marilyn Manson
“So What” by P!nk
“Gangham Style” by Psy
“#Selfie” by The Chainsmokers
“I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” by The Proclaimers
“Clint Eastwood” by The Gorillaz
“We are Young” by Fun.
“Wild Cats of Kilkenny” by The Pogues
“Ricky Ricardo” by KAPTN
“Wake Me Up” by Avicii
“Clavicle” by Alkaline Trio
“Shoulder to the Wheel” by Saves the Day
“Again I go Unnoticed” by Dashboard Confessional
“Hands Down” by Dashboard Confessional
“This Bitter Pill” by Dashboard Confessional
“Drags and Squares” by Sloppy Meateaters
“Send Me (On My Way)” by Rusted Root
“You Oughta Know” by Alanis Morisette
“Because You Loved Me” by Celine Dion
“The Wind Beneath Your Wings” by Bette Midler
“I believe / You’ll Never Walk Alone” by Barbra Streisand

Plugging my ears with earbuds after sliding my shades over my nose bridge is a transformative moment for me. Every. Single. Time. New York morphs into a much more manageable city, catering to my whim, as the people blend into the environment, becoming nothing more than a cooperative piece in that which is the soundtrack of my life.

We all have our devices for how we cope with the world. We create our own realities, form it around our own neuroses, and weave it so thoroughly that some of us don’t even recognize the difference anymore.

 

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