A Big City

I know my posts have been a little New York-Centric lately, but I am about to give you another one. I was lucky enough to see the show “Fuerza Bruta” Sunday night, and I couldn’t recommend it more highly. It is like a rave with a side of performance art and a smidge of Cirque de Soleil. Don’t even bother wearing socks, because they will certainly be blown off . The staff even makes you check in your coats and bags before you enter the theatre. Fuerza Bruta isn’t typical in any way, and is one hundred percent worth the trip out of your comfort zone.


Fuerza Br-illiant-a

Fuerza Br-illiant-a


The show won’t be running forever, so catch it while you can!

I’ve lived in New York for almost six years now, and have run into the same person from time to time in various different locations. This usually wouldn’t be anything of note, except said person is Keenya from an early season of America’s Next Top Model, which is probably still nothing of note. 


Nothing of Note

Nothing of Note



The first couple of times I ran into her, I really had no more than a reaction of, “Huh.” But one time, I spoke to her. We were sharing a pole on the subway, and there were a bunch of girls behind us obviously pointing and whispering about the semi-famous Miss Keenya. I couldn’t resist asking her if the situation was weird, and she confirmed for me that it indeed was. 

So fast forward to this past Saturday. I am in line at Forevs 21, and there she is again. This brings the Keenya Count to five or six. At this point we should at least be saying hi, but then again, this is Keenya we are talking about, so I will probably just say “Huh,” and move on.

Now that “The Real World: Brooklyn” is underway, I have stayed surprisingly mum about my feelings on it. At this point, all I want to say is that the line between documenting “real life” and having producers steer where cast members’ “real lives” go is getting really blurry. Also, you can only see the shot of the Fairway trashcan so many times before you want to change the channel.

That said, a man on the subway asked me today if I used to be on The Real World, but like a total dummy, I didn’t ask him who he thought I was. Based on hair style and presence of bangs, I have narrowed it down to two people:






I am hoping for Sarah.

On Saturday there was a clown in my subway car.

He was in full clowny garb and running bits on the passengers. Being the person that I am, I sat down right across from him and spent the whole ride pretending not to be staring and taking in every single word. Good thing I had my book… (which was set in a circus, oddly enough.)

At the start of the train ride, he was mid-way through making a balloon dog for a young boy whose mom had plopped him on the clown’s lap. I guess the bright clothing and crazy makeup made it okay for her to hand her child over to some strange man. 

After they got off (the train, gutterbrains) the clown continued on, looking for other passengers to engage. He succeeded with a particularly tough looking woman, who had perfected the New York FU stare. Lady straight up sat next to him and at his prodding, gave him a hug. All it took was a joke about how he wasn’t always a clown… he used to be a midget.

Then, a bookish looking woman got on the train and placed herself right in front of the clown. She was practically begging him to talk to her, and guess what… he did. He told her she would look good with green lipstick. She asked him why, and his response was “because that is what I am wearing.” Whose the creeper now?

Not soon after, the clown was on his way some children’s party, and normalcy returned to my commute. I returned to the book I had been pretending to read, while everyone else starting silently composing their anecdotes about the time there was a clown on their train. Everyone except for the two women, who had… other… things to talk about.

Apparently my friends/family are chock full of culture because my phone/gchat was ringing off the hook yesterday due to a little piece in the New York Times:

…“We found a cafe that served unlimited mimosas with breakfast,” said his fiancée, Brianna Jacobson, 23. “And we do not have that back home,” Mr. Treanor said….

For the record, I am very much not engaged. However I do REALLY like mimosas.

To everyone who made my Kiefer Sutherland birthday weekend so special, I want to say a big thank you! You all are my favs.


Brianna “now 24” Jacobson

Come join us tonight at my second annual Karaoke Birthday. If you know where and when it is, great! If you don’t, ask me, and then you will. See you bear!

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