Still Trippin'

Though I'm a girl who loves all public transportation, one of the reasons why I dig NYC is because I can also walk everywhere. Big fan of the walking. Since I started a new job about ten blocks from my apartment I've started walking home from work on a daily basis- girl's gotta get her exercise somehow right? 

I was walking home from work this evening and I tripped in the middle of the sidewalk. A common, frequent occurrence for me of course. But this was like the extended, directors-cut version of a normal trip.

We are talking about shoe getting caught in between a large crack and me being hurled forward and down at the same time. I put my hands forward to break my fall, but actually didn't fall on the ground. So instead of a fall, it was more like a hyper jerking hurl of the body, which still managed to leave me standing. But inches off the ground.

If I saw someone almost fall like I did, in the middle of rush hour-city walking, I would stop and of course, laugh. 

But to my horror when I rose, I saw no passerbys pointing and laughing. No one chuckling or hiding a smirk. 

I was more in shock of not being made fun of by strangers, then the fact that I pretty much threw my back out. 

Not a normal reaction to tripping in daylight, but of course an understandable one, right? I turned around a couple times and my expression read Seriously, no one is laughing at me? You all saw what just happened and yet-- nothing. No mocking whatsoever? Well, fine. Be that way. 

And then I got in this really awkward, silent fight with strangers who were ignoring me to begin with. It was weird. I got on the bus after that and took it the next 5 blocks to my apartment.  

The M15 express bus saves the day once again.

Totally off topic- Prediction: the 'new' 90210 won't last half a season. Poor Kelly Taylor. 

Flat Topics

My neighborhood Starbucks ran out of flat tops this afternoon so they had to use the bubble ones. It says a lot about my neighborhood when most people not only notice the change in tops, but actually complain about it. But seriously, can someone explain the importance of having a regular flat lid to me? It’s not like the lid shape changes the drink at all. 

Some things I just don’t get, like the hiring process.

I had a third interview for a job this morning. Can we say corporate tease?

I actually can compare this situation to a guy taking out a girl on three dates without making a move. There would be no question that he acknowledges her presence in the universe, because he is communicating and spending time with her. But at this point is he just bored and killing time, or is he into the girl? Corporate environments don’t waste time, especially HR, so what’s with the long-winded getting to know you process?

I’ll give it a couple days before I get antsy, need to feel in control and call them to check in. 

Have you ever noticed the similarities between getting a job and getting a boyfriend? So similar it’s scary. In my opinion an interview is a date: by the time the interview is over you want to have charmed the interviewer so much that they’d buy you a drink at a bar. A date is an interview: if you know nothing about your date by the end of a meal, then you aren’t asking the right questions.

Anyway keep your fingers crossed and send me good-jobey vibes.

A Question For the Ages

Making out on the subway platform during daylight hours...acceptable or no?

I think the mood is slightly altered if a war didn't recently end and he's not wearing a sailor outfit.

Also, if there's no confetti falling, then don't even bother. The mood just isn't right when instead of 76 trombones and American flags, you have one drunk trumpet player and graffiti on the new NBC Fall lineup.

Making out on the subway platform during late night hours...acceptable or no?

Before breaking the question down, I must say that it is fun to do but not necessarily fun to view. I digress...

Again as above, the mood is changed if there's no Frank Sinatra playing in the distance and she's not in heels.

Also, if him and her are stumbling around, almost bumping into you and dangerously close to passing the yellow line while dancing to the trumpet player's music (which is really slam poetry against Bush in between hacks and coughs on the trumpet), then please stop. Or at least wait till the train comes and give people a choice whether or not to ignore you. 

This brings me to another question: have subway platforms become suburban doorways? 

P.S. I really don't think I'd have time to wonder about this if I wasn't unemployed.

Beep You

So I was walking down the sidewalk today and I heard a loud, intrusive 'BEEP' behind me. I didn't think anything of it but then I heard an elongated version a second later. A long, annoying 'BEEEEEP'. At this point I realize that I'm not actually being honked at by a taxi but in fact literally beeped at by another person on the sidewalk. I finally turn around after the fourth beep and see a woman pushing a child in her carriage.

I then assumed it was the child making the noise and just being, you know...a really tactful, polite little kid. But the thirty-something year old woman pushing the carriage then looked right at me and 'BEEP'ed in my face. She wasn't even smiling. She looked like I just put down a grand piano right in front of the last three yards of her Olympic race. 

They seemed to be moving at a normal pace and not in any sort of hurry. But after another BEEP I finally stepped aside and almost bumped into a tree. I mainly moved over because I couldn't believe that this was actually happening and I wanted to see what their destination was (Dunkin Donuts). 

I thought I had problems jaywalking and getting honked at, but now to add flame to the fire I now get verbally beeped at while walking on the sidewalk. Sweet. Next I'll be attacked by pigeons when I try to sit on a park bench.

P.S. A great song to listen to when you're reading inside and it's raining outside: 'Nightminds' by Missy Higgins

If You Say So

There are times when I'm sitting in one place (like Starbucks) for a really long time and I see things happening out on the sidewalk. And these things to me, aren't normal things. They strike me as so obscure that I even have to perk up and look around the Starbucks to see if, anyone else, actually saw the activity outside. Then I usually begin laughing out loud and get really fantastic looks for people.

For example: five Asian men just crossed the street (Beatles style) and walked down the street. Each one was carrying and waving an Olympic-regulation size flag from five different countries. Though I couldn't hear them, I think they were whistling 'We Are the Champions'. Any explanations for this? I got none, but enjoy the random entertainment. 

Good music: Val Emmich (go google)

Six Degrees

I really don't know how I meet people at Starbucks. I mean, sharing a table with someone does help. But I'm not the one who usually starts the conversation. 

Yesterday it was my new Starbucks banana chocolate smoothie that began the convo. This fifty-something year old woman sitting across from me asked me what I thought about the new drink. I gave it a high rating and proceeded to tell her that any combo of chocolate and banana is good in my book- it doesn't need to be blended together. The conversation then turned to our mutual enjoyment of our neighborhood Starbucks and then to Manhattan in general. Meryl then told me about her family and how everyone in her family lives in New York. Born and raised NY-ers. I then told her about my family from Boston and what brought me to New York. 

When she asked me about what college I graduated from, things got interesting. She kept on saying that she knew someone who also graduated from my college when I did. And of course she names my freshman and sophomore roommate who is still one of my best friends today. It turns out that her step-father is my old roommates great uncle. She has Christmas dinner with the family every year, and I have Passover with them. 

Weird.

She then told me that she was an ESL teacher and loves summers off but hasn't really been able to sleep in all summer because her contractor has been making early morning appointments. And tomorrow, she says, she has to get up early to do a favor for a friend of hers who works at Chanel in Bloomingdales. 

This is when the bells in my head went off.

She said that national makeup artists are coming to the Bloomingdales Chanel counter tomorrow to test out the new Fall line and they needed special clients to come in to get their makeup done. I cleared my throat politely and said...Well you know, I AM between jobs right now...and I happen to be free tomorrow. 

Meryl got all excited called up Luis from Bloomy's Chanel and booked me for 1 pm. 

And that my friends, is how I managed to get a free makeup makeover today from one of the top Chanel makeup artists in the nation. I feel pretty.

But anyways in short, it somehow always pays to get the new Starbucks drink. 

These Times They Are A Changin'

      In my thoughtful little neighborhood not a lot changes and I think that’s why I like it. The guy who owns the corner store down the block has been the same owner since the store opened fifteen years ago. The family who owns the dry cleaners next door to my apartment all know my name though I’ve only officially met one of them. Perhaps a new restaurant will open up in an unused building but we all know they won’t last. Two have opened up in the last three months: one is an Italian wine bar and restaurant so dark that you can’t even read the menu, the other is a French cuisine lounge filled with finger-food and top-shelf vodka.

       The owners stand outside of their new establishments handing out hologram business cards where you can’t even read the name or address of the restaurant. In my opinion these places won’t last, especially when you have three iconic Irish pubs less than a block from you. They simply just don’t fit in. They belong in the meatpacking district or even better: in Italy and France. The demo that takes up the neighborhood has high expectations: we don’t need romantic candlelight, goblets of merlot from Tuscany, or over anxious euro techno music to lure is into a bar. Give us shotty florescent lights, a rude bartender pouring us a six-dollar pint and a wobbly bar stool we can call our own for a couple hours.

      With that said, I think there’s a new homeless person wandering around. There was only one before, and I’ve known about him since the first day I moved in. He sits on different stoops up and down First Ave. saying one phrase and one phrase only: Please be kind to human kind. That’s it. He doesn’t even ask for money, which is pretty refreshing. I haven’t seen him in a couple weeks and today I actually saw a new homeless man. He was walking down the sidewalk with a large shopping cart covered with a black tarp. And he was asking for money. I’m not sure what happened. But the only thing I can reasonably come up with is that there was some kind of battle to gain the territory of First Ave. between 57th and 68th street that I just didn’t hear about somehow. And the previous homeless man clearly lost. Maybe he got moved downtown, or worse…uptown.

      I picture that the contest was intense yet simple. It probably included events like an egg toss (not boiled of course), a timed penny spinning competition (had to ask for one clearly) and some kind of belting or speech trial. Now I haven’t heard what the new homeless man’s mantra is but I honestly don’t know what can beat Please be kind to human kind. Unless he has a harmonica or throws in a second line in there then I don’t know what else could’ve made him the winner. I may need to talk to the MTA bus driver or the late-night shift Starbucks worker, or whoever judged this competition because so far I think there was some serious fowl play. I’ll keep you updated, obviously.

Over Active Judge

I’ve been actively overhearing strangers’ conversations recently and therefore judging strangers more. I’ve heard a lot more people make big absolute, definite statements more often then not, like:

“I will never like stand-up comedy.”
“I hate all eggs.”
“My friend, Joe, is the most brilliant person I’ve ever met.”
“My brother has the biggest heart of gold I’ve ever seen.”

I listen to these people and I think:

Really?

If I met Joe would I think he’s the most brilliant person I’ve ever met or will I think he’s a total douche bag?
Do you really hate all stand-up comedy or is it just all comedy in general and all good happy things?
Or maybe it’s the whole brick wall and standing microphone that irks you.

Do tell.

Just to put me and my rude eavesdropping at ease, the next time you make an overwhelming statement like that- please have something to back it up. Like, “I hate all eggs cause one time I had the stomach flue and the last thing I had to eat was eggs.”

See that makes sense. It’s logical and I won’t judge you for hating eggs for no reason.

Am I alone with this pet peeve or do people agree? No, nothing? Just me. Okay then.

Happy commuter judging!

And Now for Something Completely Different...

I ventured to a non-Starbucks today by recommendation of an ex-Starbucks writer regular like myself. The small cafe joint was a couple blocks from my apartment on 66th street in between 1st and 2nd ave. Java Girl is a smaller, woodier version of Friend’s Central Perk. Including funky, local artists playing through the speakers. Though Java Girl isn’t as big as Starbucks and can be compared to a log cabin’s living room in the Berkshire Mountains, it does have more personality and ambiance than Martha Stewart’s kitchen. With wooden benches and chairs against each wall and window, a simplistic, earthy environment is created.

A woman approached me as I set up my laptop and asked if I needed anything. She let me look at the menu and then returned and in the nicest way possible explained the difference between table service and counter service. I feel like if I was in Starbucks the barista would’ve called me a dumbass and told me to go to Dunkin Donuts. This woman, who I’m guessing was the owner still waited on me at my seat and then politely explained the specials off of the food menu. She seemed to be very excited that they were serving hot dogs today.

The prices are in fact cheaper than Starbucks though. I got a large (AKA Grande) chai latte for $3.50. It was a real chai too…not some watered down, overheated latte with three specs of spice. I could still taste the warm spices fifteen minutes after being served.

Java also has board games and newspapers spread out around the Café, as well as yummy merchandise like chocolates, coffee beans and of course, T-shirts with the Java Girl logo.

Though Java Girl is relaxing and has accommodating service, I must say they get some checks off because they don’t have electric outlets. They may have taken the granola-crunchy eclectic theme a little too far, by not putting in a couple outlets for laptops. I may have to go to the Starbucks one block away once my battery runs out.

All in all, as an alternative to Starbucks and Dunkin, I’d have to say that Java Girl is a refreshing change. It makes me feel that I should be sipping my latte while sitting on a bench at the edge of a soothing lake anywhere South of New York City.

No No's

A quick list of things that should never have found themselves in modern day existence:

1. leashes for babies...have you seen these? I mean the first time you see a baby try to take more than three steps with one of those leashes strapped to its waist, I'll admit, it's funny. But when the baby continues to walk away from its parent, only to get snapped back into place- well it just gets sad, and hard to watch. Still gotta watch of course, but eventually it's just cruel to mock, and you have to turn away. You may ask yourself, what's worse than a kid on a leash? Well  I will tell you...a cat on a leash. That's just freaky.

2.  fanny packs...I saw someone the other day wearing one backwards. This is just wrong. It's saying three things immediately about that person: they are from out of town, they want to be robbed and they own Keds.

3. when the phrase This must be the local is said out loud when someone walks on to a crowded elevator...I heard it about five times in a three day period once and I rolled my eyes and scoffed each time. These are the same people who warn you to not get your pants stuck on escalators and they also feel the need to tell you that you "just missed three busses in a row...now there's a long wait". Seriously- if you see me running to the bus stop, I'd really rather not know if I missed three nearly empty ones. Don't ruin the fun surprise of public transportation for me. I'm the one who keeps on looking up and down the street to see if maybe the bus will appear from behind a mailbox or telephone pole. 

Thanks folks, I'll be here all week.

Winona and Me

Remember Reality Bytes? That early nineties movie with Winona Ryder before she turned into a bitch/stopped trying to act and Ethan Hawke when he made flannel look cool? I must have watched that movie when I was really  young cause I remember thinking the characters seemed so old and adult. I couldn't wait to be that old and have real purpose in life. 

Conveniently, I watched that movie when I was back in Boston this past weekend for my 5 year high school reunion. It was a big weekend filled with 'Remember Whens" with my friends who haven't changed all that much in 5 years. Though we have gotten a tad bit more mature and stopped squealing when we see a member of the opposite sex.

Note: I went to an all girls boarding school for four years. 

So that movie was on and somehow I completely phased out the fact that it takes place right after a group of friends graduate from college and figure out what they are doing with their lives. Quite an appropriate time to watch that movie right now. Winona actually starts working in the TV industry but quits after a short amount of time (sound familiar?) She then proceeds to sit on her couch in her apartment that is only $400 a month (that amount SO doesn't sound familiar-damn recession), chain smokes (nope-damn Guiliani) and calls a fortune teller for three days straight (not so much).  

So pretty much Winona Ryder's fictional character from 1994 and I are twins. 

Though I don't chain smoke, dance in gas stations, date bodega attendants or live in Boston- I still feel like we are pretty much the same person right now. 

The movie ends with her not finding much direction or figuring out her next step, but she does find love, of course. 

The main conflict of the movie (besides Winona trying to figure out who to sleep with) is the characters answering and then coming to terms with the old age question: what do I do with my life? Though they don't answer the questions they do accept their overall identity in the world, which is to say is defined by continuously finding their identity. 

Troy Dyer AKA Ethan:

"The only thing you have to be by the age of your 23 is yourself."

Lelaina AKA Winona:

 "Yeah, well, I'm not sure who that is anymore."

Such deep, profound words from a nineties movie...but then of course if you compare the movie to the other nineties soul-searching classic Singles then it just gets blown out of the water- and Singles becomes my mantra of course and Reality Bytes can be forgotten about for another ten years or so.

 So anyway, if you want confirmation that it's okay to be twenty-something and not know what your BIG PLAN is AND a definite confirmation that it's NOT okay to flannel then go rent Reality Bytes and do a big exhale. 

Let Me Entertain You

Though I love walking around the city in any weather, I really do enjoy riding the subway. It's kind of like witnessing an unintended human behavior experiment during each ride. A couple random dozen New Yorkers and out-of-towners squished together in an overcrowded, overheated cart for a chunk of time. The only thing they have in common is that they are heading in the same direction and all uncomfortable with their current surroundings.

The best is one of those subway performers is walking through. They all memorize the same script. They always first apologize for interrupting and then tell their quick story of how they haven't eaten in days and can't find a job. (but can somehow afford a monthly subway card, a small stool, amp, and several musical instruments?)

Then they sing some rendition of Amazing Grace that only includes every other syllabol and lasts about 30 seconds. I love free entertainment so of course I put my book away or pull off my iPod and lean in close to hear the music.

Recently though I feel like the entertainers just aren't up to par. Their skill level and talent is lacking. They really should be screened before they get on the train, or at least audition for someone. (P.S. How great would that reality show be?? Street/subway musicians auditioning to ride subways. If they are bad they have to ride the L train, but the better they get they can move lines- like the best player gets to ride the 1/2/3? I call copyright!)

Last week I was about to pull up a scorecard and give the singer a 4 out of 10 and I would have yelled out Get The Hook if I wasn't scared of being stabbed. I was pretty close to nudging the commuter next to me and saying "He shouldn't quit his day job" but I thought that would be in poor taste. And again, since no one really talks to each other on the subway, I really didn't want to get stabbed.

The singer was polite though. He did thank everyone for listening to his song (like they had some kind of choice?) and ask them to donate anything they had. He really did say anything. But for some reason I didn't think he'd accept my empty water bottle or my sunglasses that just snapped in two.

He unfortunatly moved on to the next cart and then my search for entertainment continued but ended quickly when I discovered that the train announcer was probably drunk. She kept on saying things like:

"You are on the Uptown F train, F as in Frankfurt. If you want to go downtown, you are on the wrong train. Please change here for the B as in Breakfast line, and the D as in Duck line. Please have a wonderful day. And watch the space between the train and the platform."

Oh, the subway is indeed quite a magical place.

That About Sums It Up

"Who are we,
if not a combination of
experiences, information,
books we have read,
things imagined?
Each life is
an encyclopedia, a library,
an inventory of objects,
a series of styles, and
everything can be constantly
reshuffled and reordered
in every conceivable way."

-by Italo Calvino

What Really Happens 9 to 5...

Today's big question: Do I have too many single friends or are my friends tired of me being single? Yesterday I was gchatting and here are some links sent to me with a note of urgency attached to them:

urgent link # 1
urgent link #2
urgent link #3

Or is this just the inevitable outcome of making a pact with a friend confirming that we'll have boyfriends by July 4th? By the way this pact wouldn't have come into creation if our work lives were more mentally stimulating and creatively challenging. We are forced into these banal desk jobs to compete with the growing level of unemployment, which leave us with too much time to analyze other parts of our lives. So really, I blame the economy for my being single.

Cheers to the weekend!

Uh! Common Tale...

To: Me 

What the f-ck do I do when I graduate?

 From: Friend/Soon-t0-be Grad

***

To: Friend/Soon-t0-be Grad

I ask myself every day a very similar question, "What am I doing with my life, it's been a year since I graduated." LOL I know you hate the question but what are your plans, moving back home or right to NYC? Couple of things to help you out:

My advice to you is don't sell out early doing something you know in your gut isn't right just because it looks right. You know? Wait for the better opportunity that makes sense to YOU even if money is tight. But know that the difference between the perfect opportunity and the right opportunity is large because the perfect opportunity doesn't exist. 

Upon graduation, keep an open mind and don't be afraid to do research. Don't get locked into one idea of where you want to live and what you want to be doing while shutting out everything else. Explore options. I know everyone says that and it's a very broad phrase. But it means take time to look and ask about what others did after they graduated- it may inspire you to do something you hadn't thought of doing before. Also don't be afraid to take time off. So again, my advice is to do what feels right to you and not what you feel you should be doing or where you should be living.

It took me a whole year to learn the difference between what I felt I should be doing and what I want to be doing. But it was something I had to learn on my own and no one could fully explain to me. 

Also, mistakes happen. The sooner you make your first big one and get over it, the better.

From: Me

In A Really State

The only conundrum bigger than finding New York City love is finding New York City real estate. Whether you're buying, selling or renting, diving into the deep shark tank of real estate is messy and never simple. Instead of match.com, there is craigslist.com, and replacing modern day matchmakers are the smooth talking brokers who will go to great lengths to find you a new walk up...to walk up but also make sure you're best friends with the super before signing the lease. The brokers are all just as charming as your favorite neighborhood dive-bar bartender who knows your unique mixed drink by heart. They will make you forget about the 15% of the annual rent they pocket from you as they convince you that the apartment was reincarnated pre-war just for you. You'll find yourself crushing hard on them just as you crushed on the stranger who caught your eye for fifteen minutes on the downtown F-train.

But just like finding a relationship in the City, finding a new apartment isn't easy and there's no guidebook. The best advice I can give is to ask advice from everyone you know. And also, before you even punch in the C on craigslist.com and do your apartment search, inhale deeply and accept the fact that $700/month rent-stabilized one bedroom-apartments with walk in closets for hundreds of shoes on the upper east side DO NOT EXIST. Also do yourself a favor, and stop watching Will and Grace, Friends, Gossip Girl, and Sex and the City several months before you decide to move to New York. You will arrive with a much clearer head.

Here are a couple articles on the apartment search in the big apple:

Article 1
Article 2
Article 3

Something else to remember when looking at the real estate market- things happen fast...very fast. Most people do carry all of their paperwork and checkbook when looking for apartments, because good apartments don't last...and in most cases neither do the bad ones. I don't know if there are more available apartments in NY, more people looking for apartments or more moving companies...but which ever part is weighted the most, it's a fight every first of the month to get the best deal in the best neighborhood.

But when it comes to what's the most important thing to look for when jumping head first into the market, we all know the answer: location, location, location. And only people living in New York who have seen the real estate jungle first hand know that even through all the grunt, grime, and paperwork and hits to your checking account- no matter where your apartment is in New York, as long as you're in this state, you've found the right spot.

Smell that? That's spring time.

My apartment building only has two smells. You'd think there would be more, cause it is NYC and there are so many people mixing together walking and bumping into each other- how can there only be two smells. One or the other. Weed or chlorine. That's it. Not even trash and Windex. Or dead rat and poupouri. And it's not even like over the weekends there's more or less of one smell. On a Sunday at 8 AM one can smell weed, but late on a Thursday night there is the distinct smell of chlorine. Unless the super decided to get rid of the trash shoot in the basement by replacing it with a residence hot tub then I see no reason for the entire building to smell like chlorine.

The third floor isn't really a mystery to me when it smells like weed, because usually at the same time overly loud music is playing that I can hear from my apartment on the fourth floor. One week day night around 7, I started writing them a note because I could actually sing along to Helter Skelter as they blasted it below me- but then when I started to smell the pot, I realized the folks were probably getting busy and just having a good time. So I thought- good for them. Rock on. The 60's will live forever because of the residents of 3F.

SIDE NOTE: At work Adobe Reader was installed over night and it's been a BIG deal. I've gotten at least three e-mails, and two handouts about it. Also a couple coworkers came up to me to remind me about the change. Now all attachments will be in .pdf and not .doc. I don't know what's more mind boggling- this change or the chlorine smell that has taken over my building for the last 24 hours...Fridays are so exciting around here, I can barely contain myself.

People Who Travel and Why Some People Shouldn't

After spending some time in an airport recently, I reflect:

*beware, heavy sarcasm ahead, read lightly*

I heard a woman, one who clearly hasn't left Greenwich Connecticut in the past twenty-five years, ask a flight attendant if the snacks on the flight were complimentary. I loitered around her for a moment to see if she'd ask if smoking was allowed.

Don't complain about the long line during the security check point. Dear Mr. Self-appointed Ruler of The Universe, you aren't the only one flying today. Please don't be too angry when you also visit a bank, post office or grocery store-- I'll save you the suspense, people stand in line there as well, for whatever reason they tend to be popular places to visit. 

Do me a favor and don't stand behind me in line and curse and mutter to yourself about the long line, nor the slow pace. Don't loudly point out that there are two metal detectors that aren't being used. Obviously, the line would move faster if the other detectors were open. You're a genius, really. But quick question--do you see another two dozen trained security officers standing around waiting for a job to do? 

If you are one of those attention seeking travelers, please don't put your pet in a bag that looks like every other carry on bag. Because we all know that when your dog that looks like a cat, or cat that looks like a dog, starts to move, or bark or meow it's gonna scare the people behind you. I don't care if it is usually on its best behavior in public, it will somehow manage to further piss off the guy whose still wondering why the security line isn't moving. He will complain loudly and still too himself while he still has another 90 minutes before take off. When it's time to shuffle forward, please don't lean down and ask your bag/pet if "you're ready to move up". The animal won't answer. But let me answer for every one in line, including the animal-- sooo ready. 

A quick end note to people who go out in any kind of populated public place (And by populated public place I am referring to any place that has more than you occupying it) -- under no circumstance are you to reprogram your ring tone. Even if you just downloaded the new Miley Cyrus or Paula Abdul mumbling psychotically on American Idol. That task should be saved for when you're roommate/boyfriend/girlfriend/sibling has a migraine and they've recently done something to piss you off. 

That wasn't too awkward...

Scene:

Me-lugging suitcase down hallway upon arrival to work this morning
Female forty-something coworker whose name I can't remember-walking down hallway in funny looking hat and 'funky' earings she clearly got at a sidewalk art fair on Nantucket five years ago...maybe the hat and earings came together

Me: Morning.
Coworker: Good morning. And where are we going today?
Me: Florida.
Coworker: Oh niiiice. For the holiday?
Me: Oh no, actually I'm Jewish.
Coworker: Oh really? I had no idea. I'm sorry.
Me: (nervous laugh) That's okay. You didn't know.
Coworker: (talking fast) I didn't know. I wouldn't have thought...
Me: (talking faster) It's fine, really. How would you have known?
Coworker: I just assumed. I'm sorry, there was no way to know. I mean, I didn't think.
Me: It's really okay. You didn't know.
Coworker: I should have asked before I said anything.
Me: It's fine really. How could you know if I didn't say anything?
Coworker: Right. I wouldn't. I just assumed you weren't. I mean I just thought you would be celebrating Easter. I don't know. I'm sorry.

Five minutes later in my office, coworker comes in to drop off papers.

Coworker: Sorry about before. That was horrible of me.
Me: (nervous laugh) It's fine really. I didn't mind.
Coworker: You're sure?
Me: (nod head)
Coworker: Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure.
Me: (nod head again)

Take Your Positions Please

"I think the reason you have all this sex on TV right now is because people are too busy to do the real thing. Maybe if we turned off our TVs and got into bed, none of this would rattle us."

-Jonathan Rhys Meyers

reacting to backlash of the strong sexual content on his show The Tudors.

Snow Go

It has only snowed once in New York City. And people refer to that day as if national security was in code red. They ask "What did you do when it snowed?" "Did you stay inside?" "Were you angry?" "Do you think it will happen again?" They refer to this season's rare occurance as if it was the first time it snowed ever, and the last time it will happen too. An event everyone was affected by. "Where were you when it happened?" I am used to real winters where we have real snow- not snow that turns into rain minutes later. Damn global warming. Flipflops in February is not cool!

It started snowing for about thirty minutes last night and I just loved it. I'm one of those people who think snow is magical. Unless I'm retired, I don't think I could live anywhere that doesn't have snow. I don't care if it busts up commutes or makes sidewalks muddy and slushy. When it snows in the City, everything slows down and I love it. No one is threatening or in a rush. People on the streets are just floating through the snow as it comes down around them. It's quite pretty. I also think there's nothing like a snowy-Central Park. It gives the Park a fairytale vibe. And you see all different sizes of snowpeople in random corners. Snow makes hot cocoa seem worthwhile and like the important wintery beverage that it is.

A friend of mine has a snowball in his freezer. A wise decision if you ask me. He could probably make some serious money off of it in about ten-fifteen years from now when we're all tanning during Christmas.

Quarantined Cubicles

There are currently two bugs going around my department: a horrific sinus infection and a paralyzing stomach flu. So either my coworkers are hit miserably for 7 to 9 days with the infection and still come to work or they are bed-bound for three days and no one hears from them. I had the latter one last weekend and literally started getting sick on my way home from work. Sorry again to the cab driver...that's gonna be a wicked cleaning bill for your backseat. But in all fairness I did warn you.

Though actually having the stomach flu is like an apocalypse hitting your body for hours at a time- there are several good things to come from it. For example, you get this really great sexy, sick hoarse voice that is a concern and turn on at the same time. You feel like you've been dieting even though you haven't been to the gym for days nor consumed any calories. You have an excuse to not move for 3 days. You can catch up on calls with friends and still show off your sexy sick voice. I called more people in those three days then I had the following week. Also, when I returned to work on Tuesday and everyone asked me 'How I was feeling' I got to shrug and be like "I'm good", while someone who had the other virus was just walking around with a sniffle. When he closed his door I looked at my coworker, cringed and said "Ooh- he's actually looking quite worse, don't you think...I can feel my appetite coming back today more and more." And then of course the diet feeling goes away a day later and it's like I was never sick. But I have this great faint memory of being allowed to be immobile for a flash of time.

Both of my bosses are sick right now. One boss actually has both of the viruses-- I was really eager to ask about the details but held off and tried to remain professional. My other boss stays in his office all day and just sends out interoffice e-mails to communicate. He is usually cursing like a sailor during a regular work day and when I realized I hadn't heard him drop the F-bomb in a few days, I realized he might be quite ill- but am at least in a cleaner work environment. Really! There are Lysol cans everywhere and no playful profanities. It's quite refreshing!

Be well! Or at least as well as you can be!

P.S. I picked up an application at Barnes & Nobles today...and have begun reading Oprah's new book club book: New Earth "Awakening Your Life's Purpose"- a coincidence? I think not.

P.P.S  Even Matt Lauer had the stomach flu last week. I'm telling you- this virus is so in right now. I'm so lucky.

Another thing about the Brits...

TAKE A MINUTE AND JUST WATCH THIS...

...This is the funniest thing I've seen in the longest time.
I watched it three times in a row
just to hear their adorable accents again.

I don't care what country I'm living in when I have a child,
nor do I care how many hours of BBC I force my baby to watch,
I am making sure my baby has a British accent for as long as possible.

Another part to my master plan is to also get it Jane Austen books on tape
and play them while the baby sleeps at night.

Brilliant I tell you- sometimes I even surprise myself.
Happy Super Tuesday all-

P.S. Wouldn't today's title be a lot cooler if it had something to do with anything but politics. Like what if Super Tuesday was really about comic books or super heroes?

P.P.S. How many times today did you hear:
Question-- "How's your day going?"
Answer-- "Super."

Well at least tomorrow is Hump day Wednesday, which is looking so much better right now.

Hop In My Metaphorical Boat

I was on my dinner break at the Starbucks in Barnes and Nobles tonight when I overheard the following:

"I wanted to travel the world and write. It's all I wanted to do after graduation. I thought it'd be great. I'm young and I'd really be living, you know? And what did I pick for myself? Pain. Lots and lots of pain and suffering. I wanted to be inspired and liberated, not screamed at and covered in greasy shit all day."

Hearing this made me want to jump up and point while exclaiming :

"Haha! You see I'm not the only one!!" 

The above was said by a  twenty-something year old guy who couldn't stop twitching his left leg. (I think we'll name him Jason, he looked like a Jason, no wait- Max) 

Max was talking to a girl, who was probably the same age as him. He was nervous and kept on talking really fast for minutes at a time. And every time the girl laughed Max would nervously turn a page in the open book in front of him, but never actually look down at the words. He works in a restaurant as an owner's assistant or something. After they left I noticed that Max left the book which turned out to be "Bones" by Jennifer McLagan. (Hmm...)

I'm not the creepy girl who stares at people in public and scribbles on napkins while eavesdropping-- trying to get each word down. Well, tonight I was- for only like three minutes, only because come on, that was a great line and it had to be quoted. 

I, of course, was inspired afterwards and when I got back from my break I spent the last ninety minutes of my day on Monster, YahooJobs and Craigslist. Just give it time, folks. And positive thinking.

 All I need is a lot of positive thinking and a little bit of time. 

P.S. Someone in my writing class gave me a copy of the DVD The Secret, so that's been spinning in my head lately. That stuff really does work though!

One is The Loneliest Number

My job tends to be a little...how do I say this...unnervingly stagnant at times and I work the afternoon/evening shift so I often find myself solo on the floor. I've gotten pretty creative at my desk and have found ways to entertain myself when I am alone and need a break from the edge-of-your-seat data entry I do.

I share this with you because well really, the fact that I even do the following acts entertains me even more.

When no one else is in the office I usually listen to the Virgin UK Radio station online. It streams live from London and plays some pretty fantastic music. What I've been doing a lot lately is e-mailing the on-air DJ. Only a mere commercial break later I then hear a friendly, shout out from five hours ahead. It thrills me for about three minutes and then I get back to work. The little things people, remember the little things.

Occasionally in my job I have to venture from the 9th floor to the basement floor to gather some more information (a big word for data) that will eventually be entered into the computer. Since I do work during quieter hours, like I mentioned, I am often in the elevator by myself. When these daily occurances arise I am also wearing high heels. And to get my blood moving... I find myself tap dancing in the elevator. And then sometimes breaking out into a full dance routine while I am confined in the small metal box as it slides downstairs. You must remember I sit for about four hours at a time and get very antsy. So a dance break is really just a side effect of all that sitting and crazy, intense inputting I do.

I mean, it could be worse. I could sing. And if you know me- then you know, me singing would make any situation quite worse. Okay- now judge away.

But I promise, the next time you're in the elevator and got a couple floors to go, you may find yourself 'breaking it down' when no ones looking. You may think it's a one time thing, but believe me I was singing a similar tune once. Well not singing, obviously...but you know what I mean.

(Also, just to compare: the two most non-work related activities normal people do at work are searching for a new job and blogging.)

Comfort Food

         The next time you're in Murray Hill in the daylight and it's not from walking home just as Joshua Tree is closing, check out this great Jewish deli called Sarge's on 3rd and 37th. 

Colorful side note: Joshua Tree 

(or any Murray Hill bar on 3rd ave)  = 

the last resort bar in NYC if during a night out you haven't yet:

A- met any out-of-towners

B- met any iBankers in popped-collars

Also, if you go out in the City 

and don't meet the two above mentioned types then

 I'd really like to know where the heck are you going out 

and how are you getting your drinks paid for exactly?

 Moving on.... Sarge's is a small dive of a deli but the service is fast and friendly, even the Yenta-Miss Havisham waitress who was there when the deli opened in 1964. She somehow survived the 60's and now can balance a platter of potato pancakes, matzoh ball soup, and a cheeseburger without stumbling in her heels. 

They also deliver and are open twenty-four hours. Get the warm kugel for dessert or even as meal. On the menu it says it serves two, but I somehow bypassed that note because it was so good the entire dish served just my stomach alone in under five minutes. Now that's good service!

(If you're in the mood to satisfy your inner Jew then try Ben's Deli in midtown and Katz's in the Lower East Side.)

Result of a Craigslist job search at midnight

Reason #8,439 it's not good to be in the TV industry right now especially when you are looking for a new job within the industry.  

(Here's a hint: two words).       

H i r i n g    F r e e z e

Gives you a chill just thinking about it, huh? Thanks to the writers strike there's no new episodes of Ugly Betty and also no new decent jobs too. Sweet. 

Reason #743,939 to look for a job in a new industry: (see above).

How to Stop An Anxiety Attack For About Two Minutes

First off, acknowledge that you are having an anxiety attack. Is your head spinning? Are you having trouble breathing? Are you asking yourself a million questions without being able to stop to answer any of them? Do you feel like you are about to scream or throw something?

Any yes's? Well- good. This means you have accepted the fact that you are freaking out and can move on to fixing the problem. 

Here are a couple solutions depending on the subject matter:

• I feel deep angst and frustration towards the male gender.

• I'm ready to grab a gold fish, curse out my boss and quit my job.

• Everyone else is happy but me.

• I hate this over-indulgent American culture and need a break because I can't stand another celebrity face on the front page of a newspaper blocking out all information about the war.
  

Now, if none of those helped then go here:

• Looking at something pretty creates happy thoughts in brain.
  

Commute

I was on a regional train going from New York to Boston the night before Thanksgiving during my first year out of college, when an unsettling unhappiness set in: I wasn't in the holiday spirit yet. Me- the most joyous of holiday Jewish elves. I immediately decided to force the festivities upon myself by going to the Café Cart for some red wine. I entered the cart and instantly felt like I had just walked in on a party where all the cool kids hung out. Strangers were talking to each other in line, in the booths surrounding me, in front of the bathroom, all as if they were at a bar in Brooklyn on a Saturday night. Since the only thing on my mind was drinking I decided to stay quiet and eavesdrop, and I actually overhead three very distinct conversations in the ten minutes that I was waiting in line. By the end my head was spinning as I diagonally made my way back to my seat, with a half bottle of wine in hand.

The first conversation was between a collegiate male and a thirty-something year old woman.

I listened to their introductions and somehow they were surprised that they shared the same destination. Their conversation hovered over a shared topic about drugs and drinking. The male confessed that he was looking forward to seeing his friends because he will probably spend the next three days getting wasted and avoiding his family. The older female laughed and explained that her plans for the holiday consisted of doing cocaine, marijuana, and drinking while eating turkey on the cold beaches of Marblehead. The conversation sobered up fast when the woman admitted that in the last six months, five of her friends between the ages of 37 and 45 have died from the previous stated causes. The young male toasted his beer to her and said, “Here’s to not letting what you love, own you.”

Once I moved a couple feet up in line I listened to three women in their late thirties who were clearly all friendly enough to share a bottle of wine. I saw a handful of empty beer cans beside them and an additional empty wine bottle on the table. I had a feeling that their conversation would be entertaining. The short-haired brunette expressed to the curly-blonde that she would love to drop everything in her life and go live in Italy to live a completely different lifestyle. The third woman with the darkest hair got really excited because her friend’s sister did just that a few years ago and absolutely loves life. The three went around saying how marvelous it would be if they left their current jobs (which apparently allow them to live well but not like queens), and start over in some European country. They all promised each other that they would, in fact, complete their plan one day.

Walking in on the previous conversation was what really threw me. It’s like having a dream and then hearing about someone else have the same exact dream the following day. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not that naïve to think that I was the only single-girl living in New York struggling with her career and prospects. Nor did I think I was the only one who fantasized about leaving everything for a more fulfilled. But it was great to hear my crazy insomniac thought process become conversed in front of me by three strange, drunken women on a train.

I suppose I’ll mention the third conversation because after I heard this chitchat I was ready for my wine and had luckily reached the counter.

This convo was between a twenty-year old sorority girl and twenty-two year old male computer programmer. Her looks put her way above him, but his maturity and tact put him light years ahead of her. I don’t lie when I say that he was reading a book titled “The Conservative Financer”. The two of them somehow began talking about partying in New York. The male explained that the female looks like she does enough partying for the both of them. The girl proudly told him that she had been getting into New York City clubs since she was fourteen. The two swapped their Thanksgiving plans. The girl highlighted that she was going to her cousin’s house in Boston for the holiday, which she had been doing since before she was born. This was the point where I slid a look at her eyes and realized she was blazed out of her mind. She then began to question the computer programmer about Plymouth Rock.

She asked him if it was really a rock, where it was, and if Pilgrims really had Thanksgiving there or not. He answered all her questions appropriately. It was when she announced that she wanted to have her Thanksgiving at Plymouth Rock while dressed as a Pilgrim, that I think both the computer programmer and myself realized that looks aren’t everything. - Belated Happy Holidays to all.

Truth #1

“There is a very real possibility of getting your heart

 brutally stepped on in New York City, 

where the dating scene 

more closely 

represents downtown Baghdad 

than a dinner and moonlight serenade.”

-said by wise guy pal J.W.

Advice

Everyone has an opinion on how you should live your life when you get out of college. Most of the times the other voice comes form your parents but sometime it could be a stranger. I find that the best people to receive advice are from people you don’t know, people who have nothing to do with your daily proceedings. Strangers, since they are the most uninvolved, unbiased people related to you, give the best advice no matter what the conundrum. 

Recently, I got some words of wisdom from Mark Harding AKA this guy:

 http://www.wherethehellismatt.com.

He has a wide Net following but let me sum it up: Matt is an average Joe who gets paid to travel around the world and occasionally blog but mainly he videotapes himself dancing. Here is the response I got from him when I asked him how I should direct my life:

“Choices are tough.

I think we don't really like having

too many options in life. When the realm of possibilities starts shrinking

and we get locked into a particular lifestyle, 

it's kind of a relief. 

But the truth is, you can live your life however you want.

Travel taught me a lot about myself 

and what I want to do with my time on the planet. 

I recommend getting out there as soon as possible. 

Don't worry too much about the money.”

Matt also mentioned that the field I am pursuing a career in is one of the worst out there and he knows no one happy in the industry. He told me to get out of it, immediately. 

There’s some advice you should take seriously, especially when you directly ask for it. But other advice it’s been to just take in and then let go. Some people even say that when you are making a touch decision you really aren't trying to figure anything out at all, most of the time you've already made a decision the second the obstacle was put in front of you- but you were just struggling to accept it fully. Think about that one...

Here's some advice though: If you listen and follow what everyone says you’ll be walking around in autopilot for most of your life. So try to figure some stuff out on your own, or just go read a lot of people's blogs.