Wednesday, December 29, 2004

Old Age

My brother used to be a pathological liar. So when he started teasing me about having grey hair I thought he was just joking around with me since I am the older sibling. The next morning as I was about to get in the shower and I noticed that indeed I did have a few grey hairs.

Crap, am I getting old?

Tuesday, December 28, 2004

"The Talk"

I have been doing some thinking about that critical juncture in any relationship known as "the talk." I have had many boyfriends but have never been a big "dater" probably because I dread hearing the negative talk.

In recent months friends and I have been on the receiving end of several such talks. Apparently I missed the part of my education that informed me that the appropriate time to initiate "the talk" is after about three dates/encounters. I am torn as to whether this is enough time to make an informed decision about a person, or if, as one talker informed me, you will know immediately who is "the one" so three dates is sufficient...

It's a strange phenomenon because when someone wants to talk about "us" you always kind of hope that it will be the positive talk, and that they are going to say really flattering endearing things about how much they like you and how they want you in their life, etc. (even if you don't really care one way or the other). In my mind there is no reason to talk about "us" unless there is going to *be* an "us." The substance of the negative talk, at least to my progressive NYC girlfriends and me, is understood. We appreciate your honesty, but honestly it kinda kills our interest in seeing you again.

Another thing I must have missed was the pamphlet outlining the ideal canned "talk." It goes: "I just want to make sure we are on the same page. I'm at a strange place in my life and am not really looking for a girlfriend right now, so let's just keep this casual, ok?"

So what response can you give? Throw a drink in his face and storm out? Refuse to see him again unless he will be your boyfriend? Or continue seeing him in this nebulous "dating" stage, if only to prove that you never really cared anyways? And if you do that how does it end? Will one of you just stop returning the others phone calls? Will you meet someone who gives you the positive talk? Or will the two of you date long enough that before you know it you've got two kids and a house in the burbs?

Lastly - A friend of mine got the canned speech over e-mail yesterday and was flabbergasted. Her response was, "They call it 'the talk' for a reason. It's not 'the e-mail.'" The final lesson here is: if you have to give "the talk," at least do it in person.

Sunday, December 26, 2004

best pickup line ever

So the other day I discovered the best pickup line ever.

I was out shopping for a Christmas Gift. I decided to get a set of ramekins, a creme brulee cookbook and a little flame torch. But all the cook's version ones at Bed Bath and Beyond and whatnot were expensive or came with ugly ramekins (and I'd already bought cute ones).

So off to Home Depot I went in search of a real blow torch. I walked up to the first employee I saw and asked him where to find blow torches. He was immediately smitten. He couldn't speak. After a few "uh, um, er"s he pointed me in the direction of the "sdhsjk asdvsdofi." After repeating it a few times I realized he was saying "the Tool Corral" So off I went.

I was with my brother and he was making fun of the guy for being so flustered. I thought it was cute. So ladies, if you ever want to pick up a man, go to the Home Depot and ask for blow torches. I wonder if the effect is because of the nature of the tool, or just that it includes the word "blow"...?

Friday, December 03, 2004

california dreamin

I took a nap this afternoon and had the most lovely dream. I was wading along in a river in kind of a gorge, with trees on the hills rising from each bank. I couldn't decide if i was going with the flow or against it. I looked down into the water, which was so clear. It was like I was high above the water and could see the reefs or areas of seaweed under the water. Then a person swam by to my left, under the water like they were snorkeling. Someone else passed to my right. I looked beheind me to see them swim away. As I turned around, I decided to dive under the water. Then I woke up!

My whole nap had only been about 15 minutes, but when I awoke, I felt refreshed, like I actually had just taken a dip in a cool river! I wonder what the dream symbolizes....

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

wee wee wee all the way home

I went to the movies last night at lincoln center. As I was leaving the theater, i saw a man standing between a pay phone and a street sign, peeing onto the street. I kinda looked over, saw him peeing away, and then continued on with my conversation.

Why is it ok that I am not more shocked by this? New York is so freakin wierd.

Monday, November 15, 2004

signs, signs, everywhere there's signs

I dont consider myself to be a prejudiced person, but i questioned that the other day...

I was on the subway, and a couple got on. The man gestured aggressively at a seat, indicating that the woman should sit there. I thought, "what a typical, male jerk" He then sat down across from her.

I was embarassed by my initial reaction, however, when the two started communicating in sign language. clearly they needed to sit across from each other to be able to see the signs.

yeah.

Friday, September 24, 2004

How YOU Doin?

Every girl's gotten it, the "How YOU doin?" on the street. The other day I walked to work from the train (Broadway to Madison) and received no less than 7 such comments. "Hey beautiful," "Can I get your number?" etc. I didn't think I was so comment-worthy that day. I was wearing my tight jeans, sure, and hot pink pointy shoes. My shirt was just a black tank top with a flower print. Nothing revealing, nothing trashy or even overtly classy. Just an outfit. Maybe I was walking differently because I had on my fun pink shoes, who knows. But it was a strange way to start a day. By the time I got to the office I probably had a scowl on my face from being harrassed... not that my scowl stopped the commenting.

It's interesting, when I lived in Boston I would judge my appearance for the day on the number of people who honked at me as I walked over the Harvard Bride in the morning. Now I just get annoyed or ignore it. In my neighborhood I get talked to a lot as I walk, but I do stand out as a white girl in Harlem.

The kicker to my story the day I wore my pink shoes happened after work. I walked pass two mormon guys, who both made some "How you doin" comment. But I couldn't scowl at them, could I? They are on a religious mission, they couldn't be trying to pick me up, could they? Must have just wanted to have a hottie convertee. :) hehe

Thursday, August 19, 2004

It's Getting on My Nerves

You know how people sometimes say that they feel a cold breeze pass through them when they think they see a ghost? Well the opposite is happening to me. I will feel warmth off inanimate objects for no reason.

One night I was sitting on my sofa watching TV and reached over to grab my remote off the coffee table. As my hand neared the table I felt a warmth radiating from it. When I touched the table, and the objects on it they were cool to the touch. So why did I feel that heat coming off the table?

Then a few days later I was waiting for the train and leaned up against a metal rail. The rail touched my bare back, between my pants and shirt, and felt hot to the touch. I touched the same spot with my hand, but it was cool. Thinking myself crazy I leaned back against the rail, only to have it sear my back again. Weird.

I have also noticed that I have felt wetness on my skin, but when I go to wipe off the liquid, my skin is dry. Is this a medical condition that I should know about?

Wednesday, August 18, 2004

I shouldn't ponder things

So something similar to the van coincidence happened the other night. I was walking down 29th Street, somewhere between Lex and 2nd Aves to go to the movies. I noticed this little carriage house, and thought to myself, I wonder how much it is to rent a place like that. I also took time to notice that in the windows above the carriage doors the resident had lined up a bunch of different colored glass bottles.

After the movie I walked down the same street to get to the train. Suddenly all these fire trucks come tearing around the corner. I assumed they were going back to the fire house that was on that block. But as I walked on, I saw crowds of people milling about. As I walked by the carriage house, I realized that the door was ajar, and it was that house that the firemen were in such a hurry to get to.

Am I bad luck? Should I pay less attention to things so that they are not cursed?

Friday, August 06, 2004

AM New York

I saw a funny article in AM New York (the free newspaper handed out near subways in the city). The article discussed how obesity isn't such a bad thing after all... the caption to the photos (which showed some cookies and a large woman) said "People who are overweight have a lower risk of death than those who are lean, studies have shown"

What?!?! don't we all have the same risk of dying, namely 100%???

The article was taken from the LA Times, but I wonder who is responsible for the terrible photos and worse caption.

The funny thing is that I was looking at yahoo news today, and the same photo of the large woman was used for this article:
http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/afp/safrica_crime_offbeat
titled "XXL women shoplifters on the rampage in South Africa"

It is listed as a file photo. How would you like to be the stock "obese" or "XXL" woman used by newspapers across the country (and internet)? wow.

Monday, July 05, 2004

Serendipity

I am working on a scrapbook of my college years, and so today my mom and I were in this scrapbook store looking at paper and stickers and stuff. I asked the girl working there if they had any stickers or whatever that had to do with friends, since most of my college photos are of my friends and me. She looked at a couple racks, but said she thought they must be out of the ones she thought I would want.

Resigned to not being able to get what I wanted, I went to the register to pay. Just at that moment a woman came up asking to return a sheet of stickers. The store's policy does not allow for returns, but lo and behold, she was trying to return the very sheet of stickers that was sold out! I looked at it, and it was perfect! We paid the woman, and it made both of us happy- she because she got her money back, and I because I got the stickers I wanted.

Serendipity.

Tuesday, June 29, 2004

Accidental AA

I was waiting for a friend the other day, and decided to take a seat on some church steps that looked particularly clean and had a bunch of other people sitting on them. As I am sitting there, I notice that pretty much all of the people are smoking, and wonder to myself if they are some rebellious bible study kids or something. The other people obviously know each other, and one girl is telling a guy about her job and the classes she is taking. She says "Marsha is so ambitious, she really jumps into whatever she is doing. She is the one that encouraged me to go to college." To which the guy says, "Marsha is your sponsor?" At that moment I realize this group of clean cut kids is not in fact waiting for their Bible study to start, but their AA meeting. I of course can't immediately jump up because that would be insulting to them (like the subway story I posted before), so I sit there for another minute. Some guy rides by on a bike and says, "Oh hey guys! I always forget about the 7:30 meeting, I always go to the 8:30 one." Having confirmed the purpose of this small church step crowd, I get up and walk across the street to pretend to browse in the windows of the Tibetan shop there. Luckily my friend came downstairs before the people went into their meeting, or they would have thought I had wanted to attend with them, but had chickened out. Or so dictated my "I care what strangers think of me" mentality.

Wednesday, June 23, 2004

Clothes

I have been thinking about clothes, and how much they matter… so here are a few little anecdotes about why, especially in New York City, the clothes make the man….

I took a friend who is new to the city to a party over the weekend. It was just a casual thing at some people’s house in Brooklyn, so when he asked if he should change out of his jean shorts and t-shirt, I said no. But then on Monday a friend who was at the party said something like “He was cute, but I could tell he wasn’t from New York because he was wearing jean shorts.” I had to laugh, but she was right. No guy in his mid 20s in New York really wears jean shorts.

Last night I was in my favorite independent bookstore in the city, on Carmine in the West Village. It carries random stuff and is cheap. Plus the last two times I was there I found random Richard Brautigan books that I had been meaning to read, at discount prices! Anyhow, so I was in there yesterday, still in my work get-up, which was a houndstooth (?) pencil skirt, sandles, and a red sleeveless sweater. The woman behind the counter had peroxide blond hair in braids (imagine a yodler). She was not wearing lederhosen or anything, but instead some black clothes that were rather nondescript. It may have been overalls? Anyhow, as I was paying she said, “Pretty sweater.” To which I of course said, “Thank you.” She added that she liked the “jet beading” around the neck… I had to ask her to repeat herself since I was too distracted trying to read her tattoos on her elbows. I decided that they read “KISS” and “THIS” (in the KISS band font) on the left and right elbow, respectively. I was a little confused by her compliment since her own appearance was quite dissimilar to mine.

Another recent incident reminded me that all New Yorkers are fashion critics. I live in Harlem, and as one of the few white people on my block, I kinda stand out. One night I was leaving my apartment and walked past a group of people standing (as groups of people tend to do in my ‘hood) outside my building. As I walked away from them, I heard one girl say, “Look at that girl trying to dress ‘black.’” I didn’t realize my jean skirt, halter top, and salvation army shawl was expressly a “black” outfit. Must have been the shawl, but thinking about it, a year ago when shawls weren’t trendy, the girl might have said, “Look at that girl trying to dress ‘old lady.’”

One final clothing incident: Back when the weather was first changing from winter to summer (you know there is no spring in New York), I was heading to (coincidentally) a party in Brooklyn (the first of two parties I have been to in Brooklyn). As I was navigating the subway there, I noticed flocks of young girls prancing around in those miniskirts that are all the rage right now. When I met my friend on the train, also en route to the party, we started chatting about these girls. He commented that on Monday the “Missed Connections” section of craigslist would be filled with ads of the “A train at 10:30 Saturday. You: wearing a pink miniskirt and tank top. You were with your friends but were looking at me. Me: short, fat, ugly, smelly old man wearing jeans and a t-shirt with paint splatters on it. Coffee? Drinks? Email me!” nature.

Monday, June 14, 2004

Elevators

My dad works for a company designing elevator button panels on CAD, so I always notice the quality and nuances of elevators.

There are two elevators in my building at work. They are sleek and modern, efficient and fast. And they announce their intentions. So when you call the elevator in the lobby, it tells you "elevator going up" or "elevator going down" which is great so you don't end up heading to the basement when you really just want to get to the penthouse. The message is friendly enough to remind you when you've reached your floor by announcing at the stop.

But what I reaized the other day is that one of the elevators is a man, and the other is a woman. This made me wonder... why? Were the voices recorded in the building? Did they come pre-recorded with the elevator? Are there choices you can make when you install the elevator? Like are there other voices that I don't hear like an english person, or even multi-lingual recordings? Or are the two sold as a pair ("His and hers elevators, available now from Otis")

And then I start getting silly... Is there "Love in an elevator?" are they "living it while they're goin down?" Does one elevator perform better, and what does this indicate about the sexes? No, thats just goofy... but really, why?

Friday, June 11, 2004

NYC Subway stories (part 1)

I love the NYC Subway. I love how expansive and convenient it is. In my past life as an Environmental Consultant, the MTA was one of our clients, and I learned all about the subway and was even certified to walk on subway track if I needed to. But more than all that, I love all the crazy stuff that goes on on the subway itself. Sometimes you get a unique experience, but there are also those typical NY subway stories. Anyhow, I think this one falls somewhere in the middle.

So I was on the subway and it was pretty crowded. Every seat was taken (I was lucky to have gotten one) and there were a bunch of people were standing. I think I was going downtown. At one point I noticed the distinct odor of passed gas, one of the potential drawbacks to being in an enclosed space with a bunch of people. Especially when you are stitting with your face at ass level of the people standing. Luckily, the air cleared when the train got to the next stop, and some people got off. At the next stop the majority of the people exited, leaving me sitting next to a guy and the rest of the train car sparsely populated.

Now this is a critical moment of subway travel, like whether or not to pry the doors open as they close or whether to switch to the express train. I was faced with the option of moving to one of the newly empty seats at the risk of insulting my seat mate. I decided to stay put. Big mistake. As the doors close, he lets another one drop. The odor is so gross, I turn my head to try to find some fresh air. Of course now I definitely can't switch seats not only because I missed the window of opportunity when the seats being newly available made it okay to move, but because now I would clearly be moving simply because this guy is stinking up the train car. Fortunately I only had a short ride left, so I sorta held my breath until my stop, which was not too far away. Isn't it strange that I took into consideration of what this stranger would think of me switching seat? I mean, he sure didn't think of me when he had that second bean burrito the night before!

Wednesday, June 09, 2004

Finally a week worthy of creating a blog...

Okay, so I have been thinking about starting a blog for awhile. I have mixed feelings on the whole blog thing… I mean it is so self serving/voyeuristic in some ways. And yet some of em contain really good information, humor and insight. I hope mine is more of the latter. So I thought I would try one for the summer and see how it goes, since I should be pretty busy and will have lots to say. I’m not sure that my friends would want their names splashed around the internet, so for now, I will keep it vague.

I am lucky to live in New York because random shit happens all the time. This week has been particularly random, and it’s only Wednesday.

Sunday: I won tickets to the comedy short film festival from The Onion, so I headed out to meet my friend for a pre-theater dinner around 4:30. And, in typical form, I realized as the door slammed behind me that my keys were on the entry table. Luckily, this happens often enough that I had the foresight to give a spare set to a day-trading friend who lives nearby and is usually home. I give him a call, but realize he was in Martha’s Vineyard for the weekend. The movies keep me in a good mood. I end up staying over at my movie friend’s place, so we walked home from the theater on 60th and 1st to her place around Bleeker and 7th ave. Monday night I planned to crash at a different friend’s house, but at the last minute hear from my key friend. I head over there and he is like, “That is so weird. Sunday night around 5:00 I was worried that I had lost your spare set of keys, or what if you needed them this weekend.” Yeah weird coincidence. Now I need to start thinking of backup places to keep keys, like at my office. Too bad one of those little fake rock key holders would look pretty obvious outside my apartment door!

Monday: So I’m walking to work in the morning from my movie friend’s house in the West Village and pass by the Bed Bath & Beyond on Sixth Ave. Out front is a van loading up some lamps and things. On the side it says something about “On-Demand Delivery” and “Murray’s Van Service” I thought, hey that’s cool, I wonder if they are like personal shoppers or something, like Fresh Express for home furnishings. That night as I’m on the 79th St. crosstown bus going to pick up my keys, traffic is all backed up. I’m running late and a little annoyed, feeling bad if I’m keeping my friend awake since he’s doing me a favor holding my keys. Then I realize why the traffic is backed up: A van was in an accident and is up on one of those flatbed tow truck thingies. As we pass by, I notice, you guessed it: it’s the same van! Poor Murray.

Also Monday: So I am a member of NYSC. But I had only been once since I lost my job in mid-March. The first month I was too lazy, and since the nearest one to me is 30 blocks away, I was not motivated to get on the train to go work out. Then I started a new job, so was busy with that. Then I was sick off and on for over a month, which sucked. I had no energy to work out. Anyhow, I got an automated message from them saying “we noticed you have become a lazy lard-butt. Come in for a free personal training session!” Yay! So I scheduled one for Monday with a trainer named “Trey” I show up and he turns out to be my ex-roomie’s ex-roomie (from the apartment he lived in after he moved out of our share). So it was cool, because I was a little nervous about what I would have to say to the trainer. But instead we chatted about our mutual friend and the little info we knew about each other (we’d only met briefly a couple times. That was just another instance of “for having 8 million people, NYC is a small place”

Tuesday: As I mentioned I have been sick off and on for a month. It Sucks. I missed some work, lost my appetite (and that’s saying something), sleep a lot, cough and sneeze. I don’t feel sick in a typical cold/flu way, just yucky. So I woke up Tuesday feeling like I’d swallowed a thumbtack. My brother used to have strep and ear infections so often as a kid that my mom didn’t even have to take him to the doctor, she’d just call the doc and he would call in a prescription to Walgreen’s. All that time, I never caught it from him, but I was pretty sure I had it now. And after 4 hours at the ER/Clinic (I don’t have insurance), they told me I was right. The nurse told me I would be cured by a shot of penicillin. “Great!” I thought as I rolled up my sleeve. The nurse looked at me, laughed, and told me to drop trou. So now my ass hurts more than my throat. I guess it’s a trade-off. But being sick again is going to hinder my gym motivation… especially since my abs hurt a lot when I cough from my training session the other day!