"Dude, I Woke Up in Jersey This Morning."

What other excuse could I have given my pal, Dean Haspiel? I'd been invited to Brooklyn Social last night, but wasn't fully aware that it was to celebrate Dean's new Web comic for Zuda, called Street Code. So belated congrats (again!). And it's true, I did wake up in Jersey City yesterday. No, it wasn't some slumming booty call. I was at the infamous DC's to party with my Austin-based best friend, Merilee 666, who was in town for her birthday. It was great finally seeing her, though I was disappointed I wasn't able to hang at her mom's palatial Jersey Shore house. Those deep-fried Oreos will have to wait another season.

It's been a rough couple of weeks. After a succession of blue-collar professionals upgraded my little Manhattan apartment all last week, my furniture was FINALLY delivered from Georgia by two shining examples of why I'm not all that sad about leaving the South. According to the truck scale, I have 4,550 pounds worth of stuff. Ever wondered what that looks like in a space that's roughly 325 square feet? Wonder no more:



Needless to say, I'm still not able to actually live there, and it'll probably be at least until Monday before I'm able to make enough space to fit my bed in horizontally. Fun times, indeed. At least I have air conditioning, and my beautiful Plasma TV seems to have made it OK. Anyone willing to help me move around some light furniture early next week? Holler.

Can't wait to be settled in so I can focus on looking for my next full-time gig. Want to know how bad the economy is? The other day, a tall milky-white redheaded young woman asked me for money in the subway station. When redheaded White people are begging for money, you know we're in shit shape as a nation.

On that note... time to write about the Wu. Let's see how many Voltron references I can slip in.

A New York Moment: The Wackness

There are some things you just can't beat living in New York. Unabashed prejudice and sexism are some of those things. And when the two meet, well, that is truly something to behold. Example, you ask? Try this:

My contractor, Al "Appetite For Construction" Huckabee, and I were carrying an old loveseat out of my apartment and throwing it into a dumpster when a 60-ish yr. old man who was walking his dog felt the need to ask about my ethnicity. But he didn't ask me.

"Is she Russian?" he asked Al.

Al did not respond.

"Is she Russian?" he asked again.

I turned to him and said, "SHE speaks English!"

Without missing a beat—and completely ignoring me—Old Man continues, "'Cause you know no American girl would lift furniture like that. Only a Russian."

Amazing. I just shook my head and headed back into my apartment. The worst part? I AM RUSSIAN.