Tattoos…as in multiple…

Now, I’m not completely sure what teardrop tattoos symbolize but I’m pretty sure that they mean you have either been imprisoned for many years or you have killed some people.

I try not to judge, you know? Like, I don’t really want to kick it with you but the fact that you’re sitting across from me on the train out to New Jersey really isn’t a big deal.

That being said, I would like you to leave me alone, please. Even if you didn’t have crazy murder/gang/prison (or whatever they are) related tattoos I would want to be left alone. Train time is my quiet time. I don’t know if you got the hint, but the fact that I’m not responding to any of the things you are asking me means that I don’t want to talk to you.

Side note: For those of you who have never taken New Jersey Transit, there is a section in each train car where there are four seats that all face each...

Okay…

1. It is two in the freaking morning. Usually at this time, people would just like to relax quietly on the long ride home.

2. Could you pick a more original song? Everyone and their mom can play Für Elise. For Christ’s sake! I can play Für Elise. You aren’t impressing anyone.

Super smart, though, bringing an electric keyboard on the train. You never know when you might need one of those! There may be an impromptu audition or a need to serenade a pretty girl. Or, you know, a desire to make it impossible for people to sit in peace and quite on the train. You can never be too prepared!

You know what the best part of an electric keyboard is? That fun little setting where you can give yourself a backup drummer. That way when you get bored with playing Für Elise for the tenth time you can start playing something louder and more obnoxious. You know, in case your audience was starting to...

What started out as a simple smoke break on the stoop with my director turned out to be quite the interesting exchange.

Sure! You can definitely borrow my lighter for that cigarette. One, I totally sympathize with your plight. What could be worse than having a cigarette with no light? Two, thank you for being a decent human being and purchasing your own cigarettes.

I like your description of the weather. SDD: Sundress Day. The first day of spring in which girls start wearing sundresses to show off their legs. That’s fun. I’d call it BFB: Boys Flashing Biceps. Girls break out the sundresses and guys brake out the bro tanks.

Wait. You’re lingering…why are you lingering?

Oh, I get it! You’re dig my director! Shoot girl. He is pretty cute. And, hey, you work in film and he works in theater. Perfect.

Oh, you work for the LGBT Film Festival. Right on! I bet thats a fun job.

Wait.

Oh...

1. You think that wearing black actually makes you invisible. Even more so, 90% of your wardrobe is black.

2. Your life is run by lists. I make a list for literally everything: to-do lists for today, to-do lists for this week, lists of things to think about, lists of bills to pay, lists of emails to respond to, grocery lists, budget lists. I could go on.

3. You have nightmares about set strike. This is the worst. After I finished my production of Watson: The Musical I had nightmares for two weeks about strike after it had already happened.

4. You have to resist writing rehearsal reports for everyday events. I just want to be organized!

5. You can’t see a production without worrying about what the Stage Manager is doing. The other day I saw The Public’s production of Antony and Cleopatra and while I was completely blown away the entire second half of the play I couldn’t stop thinking, “Oh my, there is...

I spent a horrid six months trying to rough it in Midtown when I first moved to New York City. Cramming three girls into a tiny one bedroom apartment is probably the worst idea anyone has ever had. I moved to Bay Ridge, Brooklyn two years ago today. Now for those of you who don’t know, Bay Ridge is not the like “Hey I’m one stop away from Manhattan” type of Brooklyn. Bay Ridge is the “Hey I’m the last stop on the R line and oh, also, I forgot to mention the R doesn’t run to Manhattan anymore” type of Brooklyn.

I adore living in Brooklyn. But, it does have its downsides.

1. All relationships are long distance. Let’s face it, on your day off the last thing you want to do is leave your apartment, let alone your borough. Queens is this far off land that one only ventures to in absolute desperation. Relationships in this city are hard. You want to see your friends or significant other and...

Why do you hate me?

When going home I need to eventually end up on the R train, right? Great. So like many other nights I will take the Brooklyn bound D train to 36th Street where I will transfer to the R. Awesome.

But wait, there was a planned service change?!

Plan /plan/ (verb) past tense: planned; past participle: planned
decide on and arrange in advance

You MTA people may have “planned” this in advance, but you sure has hell didn’t inform anyone.

So here I am at the 36th Street platform waiting for the R train. An N train rolls by. I think to myself, “Hey, I could take that train to 59th Street but I would still have to wait around for the R. Might as well just stay here!”

But I have been waiting on this platform for a strangely long amount of time. And by strangely long I mean 40 minutes. I decided to ask this nice MTA employee who is walking up the platform what is going on...

Dating in New York is absolutely insane.

For one thing, meeting new people in itself presents a whole new challenge in the city. Most of us who live here are pretty habitual. We see the same people every day at work or school. We go to the same bar every weekend (thank you, Whitehorse Tavern).

On top of the challenges of meeting new people in the city, there is the fact that dating here is basically like being in a long distance relationship.

I was seeing this guy who lives in New Jersey. There was a time when one of us was commuting between Brooklyn and Jersey twice a week. (Whether it was me going there or him coming here.) We both spend all day on Manhattan for work but, door-to-door it is easily a two hour trip by train to each other’s apartments. This is equivalent to a drive between Boston, Massachusetts and New Haven, Connecticut. Even if we meet in the middle, we both travel...

I don’t appreciate your attitude.

You are not doing me any sort of favor by driving me home. I don’t need the melodramatic lecture about how I shouldn’t ask cab drivers to take me to Brooklyn. This is your job, dude. Your job is to drive people to their desired destination. And my desired destination happens to be my home. In Brooklyn. Deal with it.

Why don’t you just let me do the driving? This way we can avoid the continual questions about directions to my apartment. Its simple. Take the BQE get off at 86th. Its the exit right before the bridge to Staten Island. See? Super simple. It’s a strait shot. I promise it won’t take that long and you can get your sassy ass back to Manhattan. I’m sure once you get there you won’t ever have to deal with another customer who would be like to be driven to Brooklyn again.

I assure you I am not enjoying this anymore than you are. I have to sit...

You are so annoying.

If I was to rank you on an annoyance scale from 1 to pull-all-my-out-my-hair, you would make me bald.

Your morning commute is not the place to get yourself ready for the day. By the time you are out of your apartment and on the subway you should be ready. And if you’re not ready its one of those “screw it this is just how I look today” situations. Doing your makeup on the train completely ruins the illusion. We all see you.

Look, I get it. Appearances are important and stuff. You’re going to the office or going to meet friends or whatever it is you do with your life. But I mean really? You can’t wake up ten minutes earlier and just do it in your apartment? Where I don’t have to watch you do it? It is weird. And I can’t stop looking at you. And I don’t like that. Please, for God’s sake, just stop.

I’m seriously concerned about your life choices.

If you were...