And So It Goes

I realize that the blog has not taken a serious tone for quite a while now, and it also hasn't been very responsible about giving updates about my life in the big city. But we have had some fun here recently, and it's been swell. If I may, I'd like to update everyone on what's been shakin' in Loriland (that's right, I'm a Baroness of Sealand and I've named my portion of the island Loriland, you may now kiss my ring).

The job has been going really well. Work has picked up again so I'm keeping busy and proving my worth. I'm so much happier having a lot to do and meeting with clients. I'm also amazed at how much quicker I am modeling furniture when under pressure to get it done. On a personal note, I've also gotten to know many of my co-workers much better since the Christmas party. Perhaps this is because we are all awesome; perhaps its because we have mutual blackmail material.... whichever it is doesn't matter, I think we're all happy to call each other "friend." If you are one of said co-worker friends reading this... oh yeah, I have ALL the pictures at home, so you be nice.

My ankle is pretty well healed and I'll be joining the gym this week to start running again. I'm so very excited to get everything back where it should be and stop worrying so much about what I eat. Not that that worry stopped me from eating everything in sight during the holidays. Willpower doesn't exist during the holidays.

With no other happy-sappy news to offer I should get to the big item. This past weekend Greg moved to Denver for a new job. Some of you knew this was happening, most of you didn't. It was truly unexpected and unfortunate timing that this opportunity came about just after my move to New York, but sometimes we aren't dealt the right cards at the right time.

And now, the answers to your burning questions:

1. Yes, I am okay.
   
2. No, I don't want to talk about it. We've been living with the heartache of this situation for months and now that its final I just want to start healing. I know many of you would be willing to listen and some of you already have been, and for that I love and appreciate you more than I could ever say.
   
3. I wrote about it on my blog for a reason, see #2. Information dissemination without having to rehash it a hundred times.
   
4. I don't think I'll have to move. We chose an apartment that it would be possible for me to afford if he left, so with a little scrimping and money management I think I'll be able to stay.
   

To clear up any confusion before it begins: Greg is not the bad guy. Dealing with this situation has been difficult in the past few months, and we've both been hurt, angry and confused. But there is no blame here. He has chosen to take a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity that happens to be in Denver, and I've chosen to stay here in NY with the job I love in the city where I really fit in. Greg did not leave because he didn't love me, and I didn't stay because I didn't love him. Right now our lives are taking different paths, but those paths are not running parallel, so continuing with our relationship would be futile at this point. However, we left things as well as could be expected for a bad situation, and look forward to in time becoming the close friends we were from the instant we met.

That's the scoop. Some good along with some bad. That's usually how life goes.

It's not cold enough to snow

Watching news teasers during prime-time tv last night had me worried. I was being warned that today would be the coldest day New York had seen since 2005 and that my morning commute would be harrowing, and that I should stay tuned the the Channel Whatever news to find out just how scared I should be. Yikes!

Since I don't like to wait around for the news I went to trusty weather.com to find out how many pairs of legwarmers I would have to wear to stay warm today. I learned that the low was going to be in the teens with a high in the low 20s. But everyone was all about the wind chill. "WIND CHILL IN THE SINGLE DIGITS!! WEAR A HAT! WEAR A SCARF! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, MAKE SURE YOU HAVE GLOVES!!" Okay, okay, let's all settle down now. I think everyone knows that you should wear a hat, scarf and gloves in the winter. And though I will admit that 20 degrees is cold, and that a windchill of five degrees is colder, I don't think its really that bad.

But I'm from Chicago. I love snow. I would rather be cold than hot. I think Florida and Arizona are evil and should secede (sidenote to FL and AZ; take Texas with you, they've never wanted to be here anyway). It's fairly normal for Chicago to have temps in the 20s and below at this time of year. I can remember more than a few winters when the temperatures were in the single digits, and I can't even speak of the wind chill... especially on the bridges over the river. I don't really start to worry until Lake Michigan begins to freeze, cause then you are talking some really extended cold.

But tonight the tempuratures are on the rise, and tomorow the two-day cold spell will be over... Nowhere close to being too cold to snow. People can complain about the cold when they have to blink constantly lest their eyeballs freeze. That's when its too cold to snow.

People in Park Slope are CRAZY!

Greg and I happened upon this sign in Park Slope on our way home from dinner on Sunday. It's located in the front window of someone's apartment. It struck me as funny. Not because the statement is actually funny, but that someone inside that apartment thought it was so funny he couldn't help but share with the world... in bright green.

Maybe he's just trying to see how many blogs his sign can make it on. Well, if that's the case, he can add another tick mark to his padded wall.

It's "Baroness Muszynski" you insolent cretin!

Every once in a while you run across something on the internet that you just can't believe is out there. Sometimes its real; sometimes its just an elaborate joke. But you usually can tell which. Today, I've run into something that is clearly real (as Fox News reported on it), but my mind can't grasp the idea that it's not an insanely elaborate joke.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the "island" Principality of Sealand.

As you peruse the website make sure to pay close attention to the many mentions of the nation's population, industry, and economy. They write about it as if more than one family lives there and more than one company is located there. However, my absolute favorite part of the site is the Sealand Shopping Mall where you can purchase your very own bolt damaged in the great fire of 2006. But I almost fell out of my chair when I read about how to purchase my very own sovereign title. That's right, you can be come a Lord, Lady, Baron or Baroness of Sealand for the low low price of just 19.99 Pounds (apparently titles are on sale right now from 29.99 Pounds). Need convincing? Just read a little further:

"It's time to upgrade your social status, and demand the subservience of lesser mortals! Get your title now and watch your life change overnight!

Use it to:

• Get V.I.P. treatment and go to the front of the queue at important events
• Impress people and make friends
• Get invited to all important parties
• Secure the best table in restaurants
• Make co-workers jealous
• Get upgrades on flights"

I promise as you read into this you won't be able to stop. It's like an internet train wreck. You know you should be focusing your energies on other things, but you just can't pull yourself away. Oh Sealand, how you've mesmerized me!

And lucky day, its for sale! Asking price of $977M... but they seem to be willing to go as low as $126M (and I thought New York real estate was overpriced).

Holy El Nino Batman!

It's been pretty warm around these parts lately. On Saturday in New York the temperature reached 72 degrees. 72! I haven't even needed a pair of NY standard-issue wellies yet for all this slush I keep hearing about. Which is a good thing, because the only appropriately attractive pair I have found is back-ordered for a month. What is it with these wellies anyway? It's like there is an unspoken contest between designers to put the most ridiculous pattern as possible on an already poorly shaped, purely functional shoe. And seriously, if any of you reading this are over the age of 8 and own a pair of wellies with frog or ladybug eyes sticking up you are fired. Stop reading and immediately throw them out. No, don't give them to charity. Homeless adults won't even take wellies with frog eyes on them. Maybe if you contact Rick Moranis he'll be able to tell you how to shrink the wellies with his "Honey I Shrunk the Kids" laser thing you can then give them to some deserving 6 year-old. And she'll be happy to have them. And you'll have done a good thing. But you'll never be able to live down the shame of buying them in the first place.

I really didn't mean to get off on a rant there, but that can happen when you feel passionately about something. Clearly, I feel passionately that wellies are ugly. It occurs to me that I might need to reconsider the things I feel passionately about. Perhaps I should take aim at politics instead... Nah, Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert have us covered there.

So I actually just wanted to comment on how lovely the weather has been this far into winter. I expect some kind of blizzard smack-down when it eventually does get cold enough to snow, but until then, I shall enjoy the warmth.

Brutally honest cards - Awful or Awesome?

Um, yeah, totally AWESOME!

Don'cha know

There's a new blog out there people. Well, there are a lot of new blogs every day, but this one is my sister's blog. Leah is getting a promotion to General Manager of the Nordstrom Cafe... in Minnesota. She refers to it as her exile to the frozen tundra, which I believe is pretty accurate. Seeing how awesome my blog is she's decided to do the same, and chronicle her move to the great north. Let's just hope she doesn't get frostbite on her fingers and can continue to type!

Check out her aptly named new blog, Ya Hey Der, at http://YaHeyDer.blogspot.com/. I've placed a link to the right as well.

Good luck Leah!!!

Happy Festivus!

Cause photos are cool

I just found this little project by photoblogger Dalton Rooney. I don't know why, but I love these pictures taken in my new home town. The Brooklyn Detention Complex is right by my apartment. Don't worry, it's closed now.

I added a link to his photoblog to the right, it's called seriously excited!. Take a look, there's some great stuff there.

Chocolate in a pouch - Awful or Awesome?

I feel I don't really need to ask if this is awful or awesome... I have a pretty strong feeling its unquestionably awful. But these molten chocolate Lava Bars seem to have the hook up. Everyone who's anyone knows that winning the prestigious Convenience Store News Best New Product Award will send your sales through the roof.

This image is from the website, explaining why we should all eat chocolate from a pouch.A few comments:

Point #1) When I think of chocolate in a pouch, I don't think "gourmet." I pretty much assume the experience will be akin to eating one of those awful PoweBar gel pack things. I don't care how much faster the nutrients enter your body, it's still nasty. I also didn't realize it was such a hassle to chew chocolate. Even if you are extraordinarily lazy and don't want to chew your chocolate, you have to wait, what, 30 seconds before the chocolate melts in your mouth? And isn't there something to be said for savoring a piece of chocolate? Why do we need a "CHOCOLATE RUSH?" I myself enjoy a nice piece of dark chocolate from time to time and like that it takes a while to melt. That way I eat less of it. I mean, I enjoy it for longer... before I shove more in my mouth.

Point #2) Is there really a concern about melting chocolate bar messes? Are people carrying chocolate bars in their pockets and ruining their pants? Are these bars marketed to people living in such a climate that chocolate melts the second it leaves an air conditioned environment? Are chocolate bars really seen to be non-portable to the point that some alternative must be created? I suppose I'm just in the minority of people who don't worry about chocolate messes and portability issues. I must be a freak.

Point #3) And... how is this different from chocolate syrup?

One final thought... how in the name of Zeus does a product like this become so big in California? They are supposed to be our country's food conscious. They are the redeemers. They make the rest of our big fat country look good (even if by surgical means). California, you have let us all down. Especially you LA. I expected more from you.

And the winner is....

The winner of the first Strange in the City Photo Headline Contest is: Her headline was: "Arizona Santa Claus Missing - Found on the streets of NYC organizing a Santa Labor Union." Now, I'm not sure why they were from Arizona, but I loved the idea of a Santa Labor Union. I imagine them picketing on Fifth Ave in front of Saks and it makes me laugh. Everyone else; good effort, nice try, better luck next time. More funny photos to come!

Horror of horrors

The Scene:

I'm on the subway around 6:45pm last night, a few minutes from pulling in to my station in Brooklyn. I'm standing with my back to the door, with a bag of groceries between my legs, reading a book. I see this seated woman across from me rise out of the corner of my eye. I don't know why, but I look up. She makes eye contact and asks, "Would you like to sit?"

I shake my head and say, "No thanks, I'm getting off at the next stop." I'm confused because there are a few other people standing, all of whom are closer to her than I am.

She gets up and walks over towards the doors I'm standing by. She says, "I'm getting off here too, but I just noticed you now."

I'm thinking... does she think I need to sit because I have a bag of groceries? No, that's ridiculous. Perhaps she has ESP and somehow knows that my bad ankle is bothering me inside my heeled boots? No, that's even more ridiculous. As I continue reading my book with my head down I notice my sweater. My adorable new sweater that has a little gathering at the stomach that makes it poof out a little before falling to (what I thought was) a flattering A-line cut.

And I realize with horror... this woman thinks I'm pregnant. Noticeably pregnant.

I wanted to turn to her and say "Excuse me, I appreciate your offer, but I'm not pregnant... and I'm throwing away this sweater."

But I didn't, because I know if I ever assumed someone was pregnant when they aren't I would be absolutely mortified. I don't know anyone who isn't terrified of making that mistake. So I bit my tounge with this lady standing next to me for what seemed like an hour, when in real time it was more like 30 seconds, as the train pulled into the station.

Okay, I admit, I was upset. I really love this sweater and didn't think it made me look preggers. I'd received many compliments since it's debut in my wardrobe less than 3 weeks ago, but all the complimenters know me. They are aware that I'm an unmarried child-hating void of a human who would never find herself pregnant. So they can look at just the sweater and know I'm not hiding any baby-bulge underneath. I know it's not my actual shape making me look pregnant. I may have added a few extra pounds since the ankle injury has kept me off the treadmill, but not that many. It was definitely the sweater.

But I love the sweater, and my friends love the sweater, so I'm going to keep it and continue to wear it with joy. But if someone else offers me a seat on the subway I'm sending it off to a special place to be with its elder sweater family.

But are you funnier than I am?

Everyone loves an interactive blog, right? Right. So today I bring you the very first (drum roll please) Strange in the City Photo Headline Contest. All you people out there in blogland can leave a comment with a funny headline for the photo... and I'll post the winner a week later. Seeing as I am a poor New Yorker there is no actual prize, except the overwhelming feeling of superiority over your fellow readers because you are the wittiest of them all. And since this is my blog, I deem who is the funniest.

Without further ado, the first picture:


I wish I could say that I took this picture, but it was my mom who spotted this scene on Fifth Avenue. She and her friend Lisa were visiting New York this past weekend and thought it was pretty funny because this shifty band of half-composed Santas looked like they were up to no good. My Headline:

"Ocean's Eleven Disorganized in NY; Other Five Still Stuck in Tiffany's Revolving Door"

Have at it people.

Awful or Awesome?

This is just awful enough to be completely awesome.

Oh Christmas [Ski] Tree

The Ski Tree is finally finished. As you can see, I went with the green tree with "ski slopes" spiraling down. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. I'm looking forward to the years ahead as I collect more skiing ornaments. Someday in the future I'll be able to look back and have fond memories of where and when I bought each one or who gave them to me.

This is my first real Christmas Tree that isn't at my parent's house... guess I'm an adult now. Or something like that. Previous to this I had this sad little gold ornament holder from Pier 1. It was time to grow up. And it got crushed in the move.

On a related note, I've been taking pictures around town of Christmas displays, lights and happenings. I'll build a new photo album soon to share them with you.

No quiero Taco Bell

If you are insane and still eating at Taco Bell beyond the age of sixteen, this is your punishment.

Ah, Christmas in New York

So I'm trying to pick out the perfect Christmas tree for my New York apartment. At first I came across the upside-down Christmas tree, which really appealed to me as it is both floorspace-saving and quirky. And you all know how much I love to be quirky. So I really honed in on (alright, obsessed about) this idea for a few days. But these trees are really expensive! I found a few cheap ones on ebay, but I expect I will be about as impressed by them as the price suggests.

As I continued my search for the inexpensive yet totally amazing upside-down tree I ran across a type of tree I never knew existed; the Manhattan Flatback. Now THIS is a good idea. Why suffer with a small little piddly tree when you can have all the splendor of a seven-footer in half the space. I love it. Hey, you live in New York. You don't have a bay window in the front. You probably don't have a fireplace, or at least a working one for Santa to squeeze his butt down. Your kids aren't waking up on Christmas morning and excitedly running down the staircase to see what Santa left under the tree which is situated in front of your large windows displaying the splendor of the freshly fallen white snow on the lawn. They are waking up, shuffling down the hallway of your 1.5 bedroom apartment to a tree that is backed up to a wall, next to a window displaying plows which are loudly shuffling slush around the streets below to see what presents you placed there which they had previously located because you had nowhere else to hide them but the entry closet. Why pretend otherwise.

How is IKEA not on top of both of these ideas?

But I still wasn't convinced that I'd found the right tree for me. So I looked to my Christmas tree goal. For a while now I've been collecting a few ski ornaments each year. My goal is to eventually have a full-sized Christmas tree with all ski ornaments. I have cleverly called it The Ski Tree. So I thought, what kind of tree do my ornaments want? A white one representing all snow, or a green one with that cottony stuff circling down from the top like a long, winding ski run. I'm still on the fence about which one is best. I think this weekend I will leave the world of online shopping and actually venture out into the real world and see what I find out there. Athough I might have to throw a few elbows out there. You know, 'cause it's Christmas in New York.

"I swear I didn't print my own ticket"

Because of my move to New York this year I was travelling for Thanksgiving no matter what. So I decided to head down to Florida to stay with my Aunt Susan and Uncle Fred to eat turkey and stuffing by the pool. They live near Fort Meyers, which means from New York my choices in flights ranged from ridiculously expensive to Bill-Gates-couldn't-afford-it pricing on most airlines... except for USA 3000. I figured, how bad could it be?

On Wednesday the 22nd Greg and I fought our way through the crowds to Newark airport. We got to the USA 3000 check-in desk where there were no lines. We walk up and the guy takes our licenses and searches through a printed document for our names. He can't seem to find them. We're wondering why he's not just looking us up on the computer. Another employee tells him where our names are (obviously not in alphabetical order, or I hope not for his sake). We ask if we are sitting together and he said that would be tough. Next thing we know he hands over the handwritten boarding pass you see below on what looks like yellow contsruction paper with the gate and seat assignments written in... and the seats are in fact, not together.


My first thought is that somewhere during the long trip to the airport we slipped into some kind of time-travel Star Trek wormhole that transported us back the the Pan Am era. Not so. For our first step through the security gates was this crazy machine you step into that blasts air at you to detect bomb stuff or too much perfume or something like that. In any event, it was brand new, so we obviously hadn't slipped back in time. And it wasn't the airport, Newark is actually quite nicely renovated. Apparently, it was just USA 3000... behind the times.

Other than leaving late (normal) and having a bumpy ride (weather) we made it to Fort Meyers unscathed. Thanksgiving was quiet and delicious. We feasted on more calories than we would require for the entire week. It was awesome. Sadly, now it's back to work for another month.

I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving!

Groovy

Attention Evil Dead Fans!!! You MUST come to New York now!

Last night I went to see Evil Dead: The Musical with a few friends from work. I haven't laughed so hard in the theater since Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane were in The Producers... and well, that was a whole different kind of funny. The Producers didn't have a "bloody splash zone." That's right, people sitting in the first two rows at Evil Dead get a complimentary poncho, and they needed it.

And now, a Best Of list about the musical:

Best new line not from one of the movies: "I bitch slapped her with my one good hand."

Best executed line from one of the movies: "This... is my BOOMSTICK!"

Best song: "What the Fuck Was That?"

Best Sam Raimi reference: "I was stuck watching Spiderman on the plane. God, how bad was the direction on that film?"

Absolute funniest scene: When all the stuff in the cabin starts rattling and the posessed wall-mounted moose (which looks like a child's stuffed animal) starts singing in a Disney-style voice, "You will join us!"

So basically, it was awesome. Even people who haven't seen any of the Evil Dead movies will find it a hilarious spoof on horror movies. And of course, even though you see each and every one of them coming, all the Ash one-liners are fantastic. I'll defintitely be going back with anyone who wants to see it.

Life and Death

Sorry I haven't been around lately, dear readers. Things have been quite hectic at work and my past two weekends were jam-packed with family fun. My aunt, Susan, came for a visit in New York and we had a great time together. I dragged her all over the city and wouldn't let her Marco Island behind touch the seat of a cab. We took the subway everywhere. Or we walked. I would imagine she was pretty tired when she got home and definitely relieved to have her car back.

This past weekend I was back home in Chicago for my mother's birthday. I will withhold her age as she doesn't look like it anyway so it doesn't matter one bit. At one point she said she was officially old, but I think Leah and I convinced her to put that thought off for another ten years or so. We had a very full weekend in which we saw a play, had a wonderful long birthday dinner, had some drinks, went bowling and shopped. Somewhere in between I also managed to have drinks with Rob and Nicole, and brunch with Melissa. I was a tired girl when I got home at 12:30am after my flight on Sunday night. Working till 3am the next day didn't help.

Don't worry, I'm back on track and well rested again as I write this post. Of course I face Friday and Sunday deadlines that threaten my relaxation/sleep level and my weekend, but that's what it's like right now with everyone pushing to get projects done before the holidays. My December should be wide open.

Between these two wonderful weekends I experienced a very unusual thing while I was at work. Last Wednesday, a little under an hour before I got in a construction worker fell from 19 stories up directly across the street from my office. He landed on the scaffolding below, and was pronounced dead on the scene. Out the windows in the office, I had a view of his body near the edge of the scaffolding wrapped in a white bag or tarp, with a puddle of blood spattered on the sidewalk below that had dripped down. Detectives and crime scene people were up there taking pictures, checking out the body and clearing the scene as office workers looked on. Below, the yellow crime tape only sections off the area with the blood, allowing people to pass right under the scaffolding, where the officers work above with his body.

It first strikes me that it's kinda creepy that everyone walking under the scaffolding is walking directly under a dead man. Then I observe that almost no one takes notice of the pool of blood on the sidewalk. It's not a small pool. One lady followed her dog under the tape to let him take a sniff... oblivious to the substance he was sniffing, and ignoring the yellow tape. The cop standing nearby stopped her, I'm sure in a "what's wrong with you lady?" kind of way.

It occurred to me that I should take a picture. Not because I'm morbid or entirely obsessed with CSI, but to capture this moment about how life is. The day started for this man working side-by-side with his brother refacing a building. In short time his brother watched him fall to his death. As my office mates and I watched the police work, somewhere the family was in mourning, and the brother getting the name of a therapist. Meanwhile, New Yorkers go about their days. Walking directly underneath this poor man, and next to his blood on the sidewalk; thinking about being on-time to work, or late for a meeting, or on the way to an interview. Maybe looking forward to lunch with an old friend or buying a special present for an anniversary or birthday. Probably not thinking about death.

And this is how life is. One family is having the worst possible day, while another is prospering. It ebbs and flows. We never know when tomorrow could be a horrible day... or a wonderful day. Luckily the majority of them are going to be just plain old normal days.

So I did take a picture. Because I would have regretted not doing so; because this moment spoke to me like art should, but most doesn't. It is posted below (don't look if you don't want to). You'll see a small sliver of white above the Bank of America sign... that's the guy wrapped up. You'll see people paying no notice to the blood on the sidewalk; even with yellow tape, an orange cone and a cop surrounding it. Think about it and make your own conclusions about how you live your life, not that any of you are bad people (surely you aren't 'cause you must know me and therefore must be nice). But maybe think about taking an extra moment to notice a pretty sunset without assuming there will be another to follow. Or telling someone how much they mean to you for no reason other than that they should know. Or don't be a jerk to strangers out in the world just because everyone else is. Okay, maybe that last one was directed at my New York-specific readers, not that any of them are actual jerks.

That's just some of the stuff this picture makes me think about. I hope to be a better person everyday because of something horrible that didn't happen to me, but merely happened around me. And that's something he left behind that he will never know. He altered my perceptions a little, and maybe yours too. Not too shabby for a guy I never met.