P.S.
The Saw Doctors will be performing June 30 at Milwaukee's Summerfest. I expect all of you living in the Upper Midwest to attend.

Elements of an entertaining weekend
-a Sherman Alexie reading at Barnes & Noble
-an out-of-town visitor
-cake-batter flavored ice cream
-a stereotypical Southern man picking a fight with the UN tour guide about the war in Iraq (which she hadn't even mentioned), insulting several other people on the tour and storming off, which led to the tour guide having to call security to escort him out of the building
-Sex and the City and Chinese food

The Irish aren't afraid of a little rain or Highlights of the Saw Doctors concert in Prospect Park
-The opening act, Padrig Stevens, was the original drummer for the Saw Doctors, so his backing band was in fact the Saw Doctors.
-Davy, the lead singer, has developed a bit of a mullet since I saw the band in February.
-Leo, the guitar player who looks like Dave (back when Dave had hair, of course), was wearing Teva sandals. I felt a little like he might stop between songs and ask if anyone had a frisbee because he really fancied a game of Ultimate. Unrelated but entertaining, Leo had his shirt unbuttoned a rakish amount, displaying a lot of chest hair.
-Watching part of the concert from under an umbrella.
-Saying to hell with the umbrella and getting up to dance in the rain.
-Listening to "Will It Ever Stop Raining?" in the rain.
-Hearing "Clare Island" after being to Clare Island.
-Davy, Leo and the bass player (a fill-in) had a contest before "Wanna Play My Guitar?" to see who could play the best classic rock riff or at least get the best audience response. The bass player started playing "Sweet Home Alabama," and I got up on my wet, metal folding chair and danced. That song has a history of making me do that.

The week that just won't quit (but in a good way)
First I got to go to a Saw Doctors concert. Then I had interviews at two temp agencies on Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday I had my first real job interview. I thought it was going to be an informal phone thing, but it turned into a full-fledged, getting-dressed-up-and-going-into-the office interview. It sounds very receptionist but whatever. It would be a start, and it would pay the rent.

Right after I left that interview I got a phone call from a different temp agency telling me about a possible temp copyediting position at a women's magazine. Upside: could turn into a permanent position. Downside: it's in Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey. My commute would involve two buses and two subways. I went to the temp agency Thursday for an interview and an editing test. It was the first editing test I've taken in a long time, and I didn't get to use sources, so it was a good time.

Thursday night I got an e-mail from the editorial assistant I worked with at Family Circle. One of the other editorial assistants is leaving, so there's a job opening! I'm sent my application in the very next day. Keep your fingers crossed, okay, kids?

Friday, I found a roommate to move in at the end of the summer. He's a kid from Mizzou named Dan. I know some of you know who I'm talking about. So I won't have to move (assuming the apartmant management company cooperates). Hooray. To top it all off, I got to see Wilco perform in Central Park.

And on the seventh day, I rested.

Sonic Youth/Wilco on Central Park Summerstage
Sonic Youth performed first. They're not really my style. They had some good songs, but I got bored during some of the really extended periods of nothing but feedback. One of the singer/guitarists was dressed like Justin and had Paul's hair. Sonic Youth fans are whiny and kept yelling for them to turn the volume up. If I was more of a music critic or knew their music better, I'd have more to say.

I almost didn't recognize Jeff Tweedy when he walked on stage. He was clean-shaven, looked like he had recently had a hair cut and was wearing chunky black glasses. His clothes weren't even wrinkly. Don't worry, he still looked a bit like he'd kick your ass if you looked at him wrong. Wilco put on a good show and played quite a few new songs. They sounded a little more country than Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. During the encore, Jim O'Rorke played a song with them, "Kicking Television." Jim wrote it, so it was pretty noisy and messy and involved a lot of Jeff Tweedy screaming. Over all it was a quality show. I just wish that some of you had been here to enjoy it with me.

Random New York sightings
-Remember those people who dressed up in armour and practiced sword fighting in Peace Park? A much bigger group of people does that in Union Square. They just have much better costumes, and their shields aren't made out of road signs.
-I sat across from a man on the subway who was completely bald except for skinny sideburns that grew into his mustache. It looked like he had a giant W on his face.
-In Bryant Park I saw a large black man wearing turquoise lyca short shorts, a fanny pack and a T-shirt that said "Wealthy bachelor looking for a love."

Really, people, this needs to stop
Burberry plaid had just gone too far. Now even the guys selling purses on the street here are selling bags featuring this frightening plaid. I've also seen a number of Burberry visors, which is just wrong. But the last straw was the picture I saw in the June Vogue. A story about SARS included a two page photo of a woman accessorizing her boring blue surgical mask by putting a Burberry plaid surgical mask over it.

Visiting Granny in the Granite State
This weekend I went to New Hampshire to visit my grandmother. (Thanks for the ride, bro.) It was a quality time. We took Gram out for lunch at her favorite seafood place. It was the first real seafood I've had since I got back from Ireland. Way to be near a major body of water New Hampshire. We also went to church with Gram via that Catholic cable channel, and I saw my first ordination. It wasn't that different from normal Mass except it was a lot longer with a lot more Latin. Two of my cousins were in town too, so I got to meet my new baby cousin, Bridget Kathryn (think this is maybe the Irish side of my family?). She's two months old, adorable and so fat. Debi kept calling Bridget her behemoth baby.

Keep your fingers crossed
On Monday I got an e-mail from someone saying he saw my resume and is interested in talking. Said conversation hasn't actually taken place yet, but this is the closest I've come to a job interview, so I'm quite pumped.

I miss custard
It's impossible to find frozen custard on this city. If I wanted Lebanese food at 3 a.m. (what that entails, I'm not quite sure), I could have it. Good luck finding a concrete, though. Not that I'd rather be in Wisconsin, but they do know a thing or two about custard. But perhaps there's hope for New York yet. A Cold Stone Creamery is opening in Times Square (ugh). According to Time Out New York, "You get to pick from 32 flavors of dense, hyper-creamy ice cream; then a professional handler will slap a pile of it onto a chilled granite stone and, with two paddles, mix in whatever candy, nuts and fruit you choose." Sounds pretty close to a hand-mixed concrete to me. (Yes, Wisconsin-ites, I realize it's not actually custard. Don't get your panties in a bunch.)

A sign I need to stop watching so much syndicated Friends
Last night I had a dream involving the cast of Friends. We were in some sort of castle/manor house. Ross and Rachel were having some sort of spat. I was upstairs comforting Ross, which involved a lot of sympathetic nodding and shoulder patting while he whined. Rachel kept walking by in a jealous manner. I felt like, "Hey, you can totally take over when ever you want." Finally, I escaped and went downstairs where it was a lot cooler because of a draft. (I remember the most random things from dreams.) Joey, Chandler, Monica and Phoebe were downstairs playing a card game. And, Scott Collins, you were there. I think you were wearing a plaid shirt. That's all I remember.

Free wine and cheese
I went to Missouri alumni function at the New School tonight. It was about investigative journalism and business reporting, so, yes, I went for the free wine and cheese. The alumni reception had a typically poor turn out. I got blown off by two journalism socialites my age. They can bite my ass. (If you want names, you will have to e-mail me privately.)

Gettin' jiggy
I now have a favorite New York bar: Paddy O'Rielly's. All they have on tap is Guinness, and they pour the best pint I've had since I've been back. The other reason I enjoy the bar is that the jig punk band, the Prodigals plays there regularly. They're so Irish that the lead singer is named Colm. I don't know if I can explain jig punk. The accordian player is hot, and they played a version of "Dirty Ol' Town" that you just had to dance to. Does that help explain anything? I danced through both sets and even danced with a random cute guy with curly hair. Not knowing anyone else in the bar and having a pint or two Guinness in my belly helped improve my dancing skills, too. All in all, Friday was a high-quality evening, my best in New York so far. If any of you come to visit me, we're going to Paddy O'Rielly's, so remember to bring your dancing shoes.

Picking up where Shakey's left off
Those of you who fondly remember the O-dough concrete, I recommend Ben and Jerry's Oatmeal Cookie Chunk ice cream. Cinnamon ice cream, pieces of oatmeal cookie dough and chocolate chips. Mmmm.

My brother's girlfriend had bad taste in movies
My brother visited me yesterday. As is it was raining, again, we went to see a movie. Mike wanted to see Wrong Turn because Joey said it was good. Being a good sister, I went along with it. It was so bad. Even in terms of horror movies, it was really bad. Four words: genetically mutated mountain men.

What the Puerto Rican Day Parade means to me
That suddenly three-fourths of the population is Puerto Rican, wearing a flag in some manner and trying to get on the same train as me.

Yet another reason I need to get a day job
What is it about me that attracts really creepy, weird guys? First, there was The Icky Nasty Guy (circa 1997). Then there was The Scary Laundry Mat Man (Summer 2001). Now there is That Round Bald Guy Who Sits On The Stoop And Sounds Kind Of Like John C. Reilly Or A Muppet. (That Weird Guy On The Stoop for short). So there's this guy who spends a lot of time on the stoop of the building next door to mine. I would see him there several afternoons a week, and we would always have the same conversation as I walked past.

TWGOTS: Hello, there.
Me: Hi.
TWGOTS: How are you today?
Me: Fine. How are you?
TWGOTS: Good. You look nice today.
Me: Um, thanks.

Repeated often enough, the sentence, "You look nice today," begins to get creepy. But I tried to give The Weird Guy on the Stoop the
benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he's just being a friendly neighbor. But I recently discovered that he doesn't actually live in that building. I get to do my laundry in the basement of that building because my building is owned by the same people. I was carrying my laundry over on Monday, and he was on the stoop. "Oh, you guys have laundry in the building?" If he lived there, he would know this. Who are you and why are you sitting in front of my building? Then on Tuesday, I was back and forth from the apartment a lot, so I saw a lot of The Guy on the Stoop. He started asking where I was going and seemed to be waiting for me when I got back. Ah! Luckily I haven't seen him for two days because yesterday was really rainy and today I spent most of the afternoon in midtown.

I'll stop rambling now.

Super Great
Another (much less creepy) thing that happened when I did my laundry on Monday, was that I got to me my super. He lives the basement of my building and doesn't speak very good English. He gave me my own key to the laundry room, so he rocks.

P.S. To all current and former residents of Parkway Apartments: Wouldn't Jacki have been even more entertaining if she was our super, not our "manager?"

I'm so there
Thanks, Time Out New York, for tipping me off to some promising Friday night entertainment:
"The Prodigals. Paddy Reilly's Music Bar. 10:30 p.m. $5. The Prodigals are one of NYC's best-loved Irish bands, playing jig punk in the grand tradition of the Pogues. Their latest album is called Dreaming in Hell's Kitchen.

Will it ever stop raining?
There has been exactly one day without rain since I got back from Memorial Day in Illinois. And it's supposed to keep raining until Tuesday. I think there are even going to be some thunder storms, just to mix things up.

Laughter
Since Saturday I have gone to three different comedy clubs. Well, Julie and I went back to that really amateur place again last night, expect we brought to more audience members with us. The comics weren't much funnier the second time around, although the Irish host did work a monkey puppet into his act. At the Comedy Cellar, I saw Colin Quinn. One of the kids I was with offered him an umbrella. Do famous people melt, kind of like the Wizard of Oz?