#1 Reason NOT to move to Queens

The

Commute

Blows

I had the distinct displeasure of travelling out to Forest Hills in Queens for an 8:30am appointment with my new property manager on Friday. For those of you who don't know where Forest Hills is, let's just say it's at the end of the line. The E line that is. I had to get up extra early to travel an hour out there, so I was already annoyed when I started out for the day. I arrived expecting an interview and was there for 5 minutes. 5 minutes! I can't believe she made me do that. Was there something about looking me in the eye which somehow proves I'm not a serial killer that talking to me on the phone couldn't? I would understand if she took a half hour to ask me some questions, but there was none of that. The most probing question she asked was how to pronounce my last name. Mostly I was just trying to plead my case to let me sublet the apartment to avoid all the hassles they are causing because they are annoyed the current tenant is breaking her lease and they are taking it out on both of us, which is so not fair. So at this point it's 8:45 and I'm pissed.

And yet, as ridiculous as this journey was, it wasn't the worst part of the morning. Getting back on the subway at the height of New York rush hour was. The E train is a serious express train, making very few stops before it gets to Manhattan. Express = crowded. And the E trains are all old trains, with poorly placed poles to hang on to leaving everyone teetering on each other the entire ride. It was gross and smelly and definitely invaded my personal space. Grrrrrrr..... Then I went to transfer to the 6 train. Big mistake. The line to get on the escalator to the 6 was so long I didn't even realize it was for the escalator. Once I figured out the quicker line was for the stairs I fought my way there. When I got to the base of the stairs I looked up couldn't see the top. Apparently the E train is five flights below the 6. I made my way up huffing and puffing and finally got over to the 6, which was then equally crowded. But they run newer trains so that was a slightly better ride. By the time I got to the office I was close to a rage, and it was only 9:45.

My office situation didn't help my mood. We've hired a few people lately and had to reorganize to accommodate. The day before I was uprooted from my comfy corner in the back to an office in the front. So now I'm stuck in a glass office in front of the entrance where it's ridiculously loud with everyone having meetings and yelling through doors. Not to mention that we keep all the marketing/shipping/etc supplies in this particular office so people are constantly traipsing through. Oh yeah, and my computer is the only one hooked up to the fancy printer and scanner so I keep getting kicked off for other people to do work. They tell me it is temporary, but I don't believe them.

I got the call in the middle of the day that the property manager won't let me sublet, but that I can move in June 1st. The current tenant left this weekend giving them 3 weeks to clean/paint/etc. I asked to move in on the 31st and she said that's really pushing it. There is maybe a week's worth of repairs and they won't give an inch, because they just don't have to. Jerks. I'm nervous about signing the lease, but this is the norm in NY so I just have to get in and then I'll never talk to them again since the building has a Super.

On top of all this it was Day 5 of the headache sent to suck my will to live, which would indeed continue through to Day 6 and for a short stint of Day 7 (as I write this now, on Day 7, it seems to have finally died away).

My weekend was actually a huge improvement, despite the headache. I had dinner and saw Spiderman with Jerry and got all of my non-essentials packed in my apartment, which makes me feel good to be ahead of the game. I have to be completely packed by the 24th when I leave for my mom's wedding, and will move just a few days after getting home, so I don't really have much time left. I hope to get an answer out of the property manager tomorrow on the date so I can book movers.

Sorry to unload on all of you, but damn, Friday was a bad day. I feel much better now.

And seriously, don't move to Queens. Bad days will follow.

Are you nimrods still leaving stuff on the subway?

You loved it the first time, and now the MTA has a brand new sign telling us who to call when we lose something on the subway. The earlier sign showed us that people were leaving cobras, crutches and prosthetic limbs behind... let's see what they are leaving now.

It's good to see that people have stopped leaving medical equipment behind. No, wait... what's that? A stethoscope? Maybe that's why during my last appointment with my doctor she didn't listen to my lungs. It's not that she couldn't be bothered as I had thought, but instead she had left her stethoscope behind on the train that morning.

What else do we have here? A table fan. Sure, I get that. It gets really hot in the subway during the summer. It would be wise to have a table fan for the ride. Of course they forgot to picture the wireless power supply that keeps it running, gonna need that for the table lamp too. The hairdryer is a little strange, but some young lady might carry it with her just in case she has to take a walk of shame. She may be wearing the same slutty outfit from Friday night at 9am on a Saturday morning, but at least her hair looks good.

People are sure leaving lots of sport equipment behind these days. Tennis ball/baseball, sure. Raquet, okay. Dumbbell, perhaps. But skis? I don't think so. If you are carrying skis on the subway you are either standing and holding them or they are laying against you because there is nowhere to lay them flat. Oh yeah, and skiers aren't stupid. Now if there was a snowboard on here I would have believed that.

Juju sit. Good Juju.

Good news my dear readers, I got the apartment that I applied for! The move-in date has yet to be determined, but trust me, in NY the hard part is just securing the apartment. The management company isn't sure how much work needs to be done in the apartment before I move in, but the current tenant is leaving this weekend, and we can't imagine anything they plan to do would take more than 3 weeks. They are just being cautious. Some dude is going in there tomorrow morning to see what needs to be done so I'll have a good idea by the end of the day. We're shooting for June 1st, and I don't think it will be a problem, and if it is, it won't be by much and I'll figure out a solution. Finding a good apartment without a broker's fee in this city is so hard, I'll do whatever I must to make it work.

Soon I'll be living in a quiet one-bedroom on a tree-lined street in Prospect Park: two blocks from Jerry and Jenna, a very short walk to Prospect Park, closer to the gym, laundry in the building, close to all the activities of Park Slope, only 5 minutes further from work, still within walking distance of any subway I would want... etc, etc. I'm finally excited about moving. It's a new chapter people. A fresh start. I'll be living the New York life. Cramming all my belongings into a "cozy" apartment with "character" and "lots of light." In reality, it's perfectly sized for just me, is in a well maintained old building and does have plenty of light with windows in every room. I'll be here for a while and will actually be able to paint and decorate, so it will really will feel like my home.

Ahhhhhh, home.

"Now that's a real shame when folks be throwin' away a perfectly good white boy like that."

It's a boy of tape, but still, very white. In Union Square, 6:30 pm last night. I figure it's art. I should scour YouTube to see if a tape pops up with me on it stopping to take the picture. I would be a likely target as I was carrying a big bag of boxes home from the office for my move. Had to turn around and find a place to put them down to take the picture. Oh Zeus, please don't let me be on YouTube!!!

I've also added some photos to my Out and About in NY album from the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens. I was pleasantly surprised at how well many of them turned out with just my little point and shoot camera and a little photoshopping. You might like them too.

Mack attack

People hate public displays of affection. People in couples hate them, and people who are single hate them even more. But every once in a while what starts off as a gratuitous PDA can end in a really satisfying story. This is one of those stories.

In the previous post I mentioned that Jenna and I spent our Saturday afternoon hanging out in the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens. As we were strolling the grounds we came upon this couple making out on a large lawn. There was nobody else on it but them so they didn't blend in, at all. Not just because they were the only people in a field of green, but because they were really enjoying themselves. They either didn't notice or didn't care that other people were watching them. Adults, children, an overly-tattooed couple. They certainly didn't/couldn't see the security guard on the other side of the lawn. But all the vertical people did.

From far away in his dark grey uniform the security guard slowly descended upon the distracted couple. Many passers by in the area stopped to watch what was sure to be a great moment of embarrassment. Almost on top of them, he finally spoke up and told them to move it along. Excessive macking is not allowed in the sanctuary of the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens. Feeling like teenagers busted for making out in a parking lot, the couple got up and walked off briskly, laughing of embarrassment and looking only at each other.

Jenna almost clapped, I would have died laughing if she did.

"Oh yeah, GET AWAY FROM ME!"

Tonight I went to see a studio apartment in Park Slope. It wasn't the apartment for me mostly because the hallway was so narrow I couldn't get my couches upstairs. But also because even if I could I wouldn't have had the room to put them anywhere once they were in. But this isn't the point on the story...

When I arrived at the open house everyone else there was a couple. Tons of them. And all of them were scrambling to get their application in. I just couldn't imagine two people living in that apartment. For just another hundred dollars a month each they could have an apartment like I have now which is very comfortable for two. I just didn't get it.

A little while later I was waiting for the subway when one of the couples that was at the open house walked past. When we got on the train they were sitting not too far from me. I overheard the girl saying to the guy, "We are totally going to have our own lives. I mean, we can't be around each other all the time. Like lately, I feel like you've been smothering me." She said it so nonchalantly, like "Should we have bagels for breakfast? You're smothering me. How about french toast?"

Ummmm, as a person who has lived with people, a few points. 1) If you live in a studio with another human, you will be around them, ALL the time. Unless of course one of you is nocturnal. 2) If you already feel smothered, moving in together might not be the best approach to work on that particular problem. 3) Perhaps after filling out an application for an apartment is not the best time to have the "you're smothering me" conversation on the subway. What a lucky guy he is.

For my own part I applied for an apartment last week that I really like. I hope to know tomorrow if I got it. Chances are very good, but anything could happen. Be with me now juju!

Week four-ish tanning report: The lotion for fair skin didn't do too much for me. I was just about to pick up a spray on tan when Megan said every article she's read about the lotion tanners says that you have to go at least a shade darker to get any results. So I stepped it up to the medium tone... we'll see how it goes. I also had a really nice day with Jenna at the botanical gardens over the weekend where we soaked in the sunshine. Don't worry! I was wearing sunblock, but some of those rays always sneak on by to aid in the tanning. If I keep with the lotion and the sunshine my skin might not blind my mother on her wedding day!

He's a Jeff, I bet he'd love me

Craigslist is maybe the best site for social experimentation... ever.

UPDATE: Sorry folks, this link doesn't work anymore... but trust me, it was funny as hell.

What the....??????

Seen in Prospect Heights on a traffic light box. That's one special stuffed monkey.

Oh yeah, there are some new pictures in my Out and About in NY album. Stuff I took while walking over the Brooklyn Bridge and from a rooftop in Park Slope. I like 'em.

I hate myself just a little today

You may remember my rant about wellies a few months back. Well I still hate them, but I had to buy a pair. I just had to. The rain that comes down on this city is ridiculous. But the worst part is that with the old, uneven streets there are puddles of undetermined depth everywhere you turn. After the nor'easter of two weekends ago (my very first), I knew I had to make a sacrifice. It was either look silly or ruin my Joe's Jeans. I couldn't let my Joe's suffer on account of my pride. So I bought a pair of plain-Jane tan wellies last week.

I realized I would have to wear them today when I was awoken by thunder and rain this morning. They were still in the bag, tags on, in the closet. I was secretly hoping I would be able to return them. Not the case. So I geared up for the weather and headed out.

I will admit, it was nice to walk through anything and not worry about showing up at work soaked to the knees. I didn't have to go around puddles, I could go right through them. Two points for wellies... but that's all they get. I still have like, a million points.

On another subject....

Week three tanning report: I'm still "more tan" without actually looking tan. The color seems to have leveled off. Might have to consider a different lotion or a spray on tan. Going to the medium to dark skin option will probably leave me the wrong color. That's definitely not an a good thing.

Meanwhile, as my skin darkens, my teeth whiten. Well they seem whiter. I can't really tell if they are whiter because of expect them to be or because they actually are. So I guess the results aren't that great after a week of use. We'll see at the end of two weeks if they reach actual whiteness. I suppose I could stop drinking coffee to help the process, but then I would fall asleep at work and be unable to amuse you with my tales.

I got one!

Oh, I'm so excited! Yesterday Jenna came with me to see a prospective new apartment, but before we ventured out to see it she handed me my very own NYC Condom! Whoo hoo!!

She works at a school on Manhattan as a social worker and one of the students' parents gave her a whole bunch for the kids should they ask for them (progressive parent, clearly). I asked her to bring me one... and she did!

I love my NYC Condom. I think it's fabulous that the city branded condoms and released them on Valentine's Day. Just awesome. Now I have my own little piece of NY history. Thanks Jenna!!

Get me some OJ stat!

There are no accurate words to describe the experience I had last night, but I'll give it a try.

It's a lovely Sunday afternoon when Jerry calls to invite me over that night for dinner and a movie with Jenna and a friend of his from work who we'll call Aaron (Aaron doesn't have a fancy blog pseudonym so he's actually Aaron). I'm told it is a horror movie made by a friend of Jerry's who is trying to break into the business. What the hell, how bad could it be?

It could be bad, really really bad. Atrocious even.

The premise of the movie is unimportant. But for context; it was supposed to be some kind of Blair Witch style thriller where you are watching footage of this cult take over a town in Arizona. The poor editing between "shaky camcorder" and "security camera" footage alone was enough to almost make Jenna lose her dinner. She was worried the movie would be to scary for her to watch and it turned out the scariest part for her was the camera-induced nausea.

The rest of us were feeling nauseous too, but not from the camera movement.

The plot was boring and barely existent, and basically was just a ruse to get him (the main character; played by the writer/director/friend of Jerry's) into this insane asylum to vent all his inadequacies and injustices from his childhood... which were also boring and standard. The ONLY rewarding moment was towards the end of the film some dude was helping him escape the insane asylum when he was shot with a tranquilizer dart. He makes it to the van when the guy tosses him a bottle of OJ and says, "Drink it. It's the antidote for the tranquilizer. Orange juice. The vitamin C counteracts the effects." This is when I lost it with laughter. Immediately following me Jenna lost it when they almost simultaneously ran over some orderly which utilized perhaps the worst scarecrow-looking fake-person doll ever. Between the two of us we couldn't stop laughing for at least 10 minutes. We had had it, the movie had broken us, and the first chance we had to laugh, we took it. The boys didn't seem as amused, which really confused us. I think they were broken long before and by this point in the movie they were beyond salvation.

One thing I couldn't understand (other than why George Wendt agreed to appear in this thing for five minutes) was why Aaron showed up for this misery. Apparently Jerry had shared with him a portion of a previous film, and for some reason he came back for more. Maybe he really likes Jerry's cooking. Maybe he likes to ridicule poor film making. Maybe he wanted to see if he could make it in and out of Brooklyn alive. Whatever it was, I think he learned his lesson. We all did that night.

Jerry owes me 90 minutes of my life back.

Quest for tan

Week two tanning report: I look a little more tan, still not to be confused with actually tan, but with the cold weather and the long sleeves nobody would know it anyway. The firming portion seems to be working okay too. I could still use a hit of actual sunshine and a dash of lipo, but this lotion and running like a crazy person will have to suffice.

Be "blog" famous

I've added two new albums over there to the right. One is My Peeps, which is just like it says, pictures of my peeps. Most of these photos show up in other albums, but it's kinda nice just to have them all there. If you aren't up there it's not that I don't love you, I just may not have a good pic... which brings us to the second album... New York Visitors. The first group to be posted are of Leah when she was here last weekend. Take particular note that I captured her on film in Macy's. And, oh yeah, what's that she's holding? Well, well, well, it's a Bloomingdale's bag! As two of Nordstrom's biggest competitors it's amazing she stepped foot into both of these stores. But I was there to get it on film.

Wanna be famous? Really sad you aren't in My Peeps album? Come to New York, be cute, get posted, and instantly tens of people will be looking at you!

Stellar Vampires FOUND!

First off, I would like to point out that Stellar Vampires are not vampires that excel at all things vampiric. They are actually stars that form by taking material from other stars. And also happen to be an excellent name for a rock band.

But my real reason for linking to this story (which is likely old news to all of you wacky astronomy lovers out there), is to point out the technology that was used to find these blood-sucking stars. I don't want to confuse you with all the technical-scientific jargon, but the name of the telescope is the Very Large Telescope. The website says it "is the world's largest and most advanced optical telescope." For such a fancy-pants telescope it doesn't have much of a name.

Since the dawn of time scientists have named things with dull technical codes or words nobody can pronounce, single-handedly creating the need for acronyms. The craze just grew from there to expand to business terms (EOD), computer lingo (ASCII) and eventually text messaging (WTF).

At least the Very Large Telescope has 4 smaller Unit Telescopes (which are just large) with meaningful names thought up by a kid in Chile from a town I can't pronounce. So thats nice.

You know you are really white when...

...while shopping for dresses with your mother (who is supposed to love you and tell you that you are beautiful no matter what) she takes one look at your legs and exclaims, "you have to get a tan!"

That's right, my mother strongly suggested that I go to a tanning booth and toast myself before her wedding. It really wasn't a suggestion. It was more of a request. Possibly a demand. Had I said, "you should love me whatever color I am," I believe she would have bought me some sessions to try and persuade me with free stuff.

Now, I know I am a white girl. Really white. My mother, who is Italian, has dark olive skin. My sister inherited this trait. They both tan incredibly easily without burning and keep their color well past summer. I, however, did not inherit this trait. My skin looks pretty white year-round, and if I go out in the sun without at least SPF 45 I'm in big trouble. My mom took the risk that one of her children wouldn't have dark skin when she chose to make kids with my dad who was half Polish. I guess she thought the half-Italian part would win out. It didn't.

Since I believe that paying to apply cancer and wrinkles to my skin is maybe the worst idea since smoking, there's absolutely no way I'm going to a tanning salon. I'm also pretty sure that using a self-tanner will leave me orange, streaky, or orange and streaky, so that's probably not the best route either. I need non-drastic change that is goof-proof, as I am a big goof. So last week I started using a new gradual self-tanning lotion from St. Ives that is also meant to be firming as an added little bonus.

Week one tanning report: After the first few days I thought my skin was just more pink, but now that it's been about a week I'm definitely a little darker in the tan-colored direction. But I don't think anyone would mistake me for actually having a tan. May take a while for that.

As if picking up poo isn't bad enough

Now the dogs are taking our jobs. As seen in Union Square around lunchtime on Monday. It won't be long until we are the ones being walked around on leashes.

At least he's checking his mirrors before pulling into traffic. That's more than I can say for most New York drivers.

Okay, iPods might be a problem

This afternoon Megan and I were sitting on a bench in Union Square enjoying the sunshine on a little break from work. As we were chatting I heard two people talking very loudly to my side. I looked over and saw two women, each with headphones on, yelling to each other like they had just been standing next to a speaker at a concert. They talked like that for a few minutes before parting ways. We had a good chuckle that neither of them could be bothered to take off the headphones to talk with a friend they ran into on the street.

Get your NYPD T-shirt here!

There is an empty jail down the street from my apartment. It's been closed since 2003 but lately there have been rumblings of what to do with it. Convert it to condos? Convert it to a hotel? Re-open? Re-open and expand? Re-open and expand AND throw in some retail!!!!??????

That seems to be the latest plan.

None of this will really affect me much. The jail is four long blocks to the West from where I currently live, and I've started looking to move a few blocks to the East anyway. I'm going closer to where the criminals run free in their natural habitat, instead of caged up and on display. But the folks who've bought a fancy condo next door and in the burgeoning neighborhood are going to be pretty pissed, no matter how many coffee shops and swanky boutiques go in on the first floor.

At least when the inmates are released they'll be able to grab a $5 latte and on the way back into society.

Name that Fridge!

Today for my dear blog readers, a game of trivia. Name that Fridge!


Where is this fridge located?

• A frat house
• My office
• A Lincoln Park apartment
  

If you guessed "A frat house" you would be wrong. Frat houses have much more beer and much less Coke. If you guessed "A Lincoln Park apartment" you would be really close, but no cigar. It is, indeed, to be found in "My office." This is what I saw this morning as I opened the door to get some milk for my coffee. I finally found it, one carton, all the way in the back. You can see it with its little red cap sticking up. A dull beacon of health lost in a sea of bad carbs and alcohol. Typical Friday morning at the office.

Digg it

Meet Kristen. "Blog, Kristen." "Kristen, Blog."

Kristen and I have been friends for a long time. We met when we were "young and stupid." To be exact, she was just out of college, and I was halfway through.

We have a lot in common and a lot not in common. Luckily they line up in the right ways so we compliment each other very well.

In case you're having trouble telling us apart; she's tall and straight and blond, and I'm short and curvy and brunette. She can run much much faster than I can, but I can duck under things, so both of us have valid escape options from creepy guys.

The picture above was taken this past weekend, when I was back in Chicago. The purpose for my trip was to shop with my mom for her wedding dress/shoes/accessories/etc. We found them all, she's going to look amazing, but I can't leak the details to ensure Homer stays in the dark about it all until that day. I did a have a wonderful time with my mom, as we always do, but this story is about my time with Kristen.

We went out on Saturday night to one of my favorite restaurants that she was dying to try, Coast Sushi. It was awesome, as always. A bottle of wine and three maki rolls later we blew that joint and headed to another of my favorites, and one of hers too, Hot Chocolate. The desserts there are amazing, even more so are the chocolate martinis. So amazing we each had two. Are you keeping track? That's a half bottle of wine and two martinis each.

Yeah, we had fun. We made up t-shirt ideas. You know you are wasted when you're making up t-shirt slogans.

Now Kristen and I always have fun when we get together, we've just usually only had the time to see each other over iced tea at lunch. Over the years she's done her thing and I've done mine as we tried to figure out who we are and where we're going in life. There have been times when we haven't seen each other for a year, but we made sure to check in occasionally. Whenever we did get together we always started off right where we ended the last time. No weirdness, no hurt feelings, no "where the hell have you been you big jerk?"

Lately our friendship has been experiencing a bit of a renaissance, despite my move to New York. We've both been going through some pretty big life changes recently, and though no two situations are the same, the way we are feeling and the things we are learning about ourselves have been. Even though we still don't talk all the time, we've been able to support each other by feeling safe enough to say the things that may be hard to tell everyone else. It's actually quite a profound thing happening in a very quiet way between the two of us. (I just said that to use 'quite' and 'quiet' in the same sentence to see if I could confuse anyone. Not really. Well, a little bit.)

Sometimes I wish we had been having this kind of friendship consistently for the past 10 years, I'm sure she feels that way too. But then I remember that just because our relationship is different now doesn't mean it was bad before. It was just, different. It was who we were and what was important to us then. We weren't selfish, or too busy, or anything like that. There was never a day when I doubted that she was a great friend and would be there if I needed her. I hope she felt the same way. And I really don't feel like we wasted any valuable friendship time. Ten years is a long time, but its nothing compared to the time we have going forward.

One day Kristen and I will both be "older and wiser." Until then we're going to have a great time getting there... drinking chocolate martinis and ice tea all the way. A little heavier on the chocolate martinis. The world needs more inspired t-shirt slogans.

Stupid snow

So I was supposed to be in Chicago this weekend; helping my mother shop for her wedding dress, hanging out with friends for St. Patrick's Day, and having brunch with two of my aunts. But I was in New York. This big ass storm hit the city for Friday, and only Friday. I was flying JetBlue, and because of their recent bad publicity they hastily went ahead and cancelled all the flights out of the airport. At first I was just cursing JetBlue specifically, but then JFK closed later that day so I had to remove some of the blame to split it with the airport itself. Even though I was pissed and disappointed that my flight was cancelled, JetBlue was good about changing my flight. They wouldn't rebook me on the first flight out Saturday morning because the storm was supposed to continue, so they re-booked for the exact same flights for next weekend. Of course when I woke up Saturday morning the snow had already begun to melt, the sun was shining and the flights did take off. But there was no way to know that was going to be the case.

It certainly was a big storm, but O'Hare wouldn't have closed. O'Hare knows how to handle the snow. The rest of Chicago does too. New York has some real problems with snow management. There are clearly not enough plows, salt, sand and people to get it off the streets and sidewalks in any way. Eventually they get the main streets plowed, but then the snow just builds up on the corners and you end up stepping in massive puddles of slush, ice and freezing water. And the subway steps are the worst. The entrances, even at the most crowded stations, have snow covered stairs. I'm just waiting to see someone absolutely bail, crash down the stairs and take 10 people with them because of this. It's really not safe.

When my friend Megan told me that I would need to get wellies for living in New York I wasn't so sure. Now I am. You have no idea what kind of puddle you are stepping in or how deep it will be, and the only way to be sure your feet will stay dry is with ugly solid rubber "boots" that go up to your knees.

Speaking of Megan, here she is, with me at some bar on the Upper East Side on St. Patrick's Day. Since I didn't make it to Chicago she invited me out with her boyfriend and some of his friends. I got a pretty late start on the festivities, but it was a good time. I always have a good time with Megan, she's swell.

The bagpipe players below were part of our entertainment at the bar. On my way there I was sitting near a guy on the subway wearing a kilt. He was an attractive, very normal looking guy... except that he was wearing a kilt. I was dying to ask him if his legs were cold, but I didn't. I figured he already knows everyone is looking at him, he doesn't need me asking him about it. And I'm not a big fan of talking to strangers. My parents told me not to do that, and clearly it stuck.

Wicker Park is swell, and so is my mom

Attention Chicago, you have a swell new store. It's in Wicker Park, and it's called The Boring Store. It sells various "spy gear" products and the proceeds go to fund new programs for an after-school tutoring and writing program called 826CHI. The products all have creative and funny explanations on the outside of the boxes, meant to amuse adult visitors and inspire writing in the workshop behind the storefront. See, swell.

I'll be back in town next weekend to marathon shop for my mother's wedding dress, but hopefully I'll have a few minutes to pop by and check the place out.

Oh yeah, my mom is engaged. Sorry to gloss right over that really big news. I seem to have forgotten to write about it because I was banned from doing so until she was able to get the word out to everyone herself. It took a while, and then I forgot. Whoops.

So the story goes... before breakfast on the morning of Superbowl Sunday, a day that was painfully disappointing to the rest of Chicago, Homer poked Cathy on the shoulder and asked "Wanna get married?" She replied, "Sure." His next question was, "Do you want an engagement ring?" Ladies, we all know what her answer was.

Within two weeks they nailed down the date of May 27th (yes, this year), picked a ring and a photographer and off she went to Australia to pet kangaroos. While she was down under Homer booked a church, looked into a bunch of reception options and picked up her shiny new ring. This has nearly redeemed him for asking her to marry him without a ring in the first place. I haven't decided yet what will fully redeem him, but treating my mom like a queen for the rest of her life is a solid place to start.

Here's a picture of the happy couple on her birthday in November:


When I was of a younger dating age my mom used to have fun threatening my boyfriends with a shotgun. She didn't have one, but was convincing even without it. Homer, I don't have a shotgun, but I do know taekwondo. I'm just sayin'.

Whole wheat doughnuts - Awful or Awesome?

Nobody out there is going to argue that doughnuts are good for us. They absolutely shouldn't be eaten on a regular basis. But when I do occasionally want to treat myself to a sugary, fatty, doughy circle of goodness I certainly won't turn to a doughnut made with whole wheat. Krispy Kreme, what are you doing? The low-carb dieters are gone. You can't get them back. They don't want what you are selling. And any of them who are stupid enough to believe that your whole wheat doughnuts are healthy might also just be crazy enough to sue when they binge on the "healthy" doughnuts and end up with heart disease. "But Krispy Kreme marketing said they were healthy! It's not my fault I gained 50 pounds!" You've been warned.

New photo album

Like the title says, I've added a new photo album to the blog album family. As I'm out and about in New York I like to take pictures of stuff that is weird, pretty, or whatever. So it's basically a dump of New York photos. I'll update it as I see cool stuff. I expect I'll be adding a lot more as the weather turns more agreeable and I'm actually able to walk around taking pics. Check it out if it tickles your fancy. Or even if it tickles something else.

I REALLY heart NY

Today I bring to you a perfect example of why I truly do heart NY.

As everyone knows, it is Valentine's Day, the most romantic day of the year (blech). Men everywhere are expected to buy chocolates and flowers and make reservations at the perfect candlelit restaurant. It's all about the romance. So how does the City of New York mark the day? By releasing their very own New York branded condoms. I love that on this day the city says, "Forget romance and get it on."

The city has been giving out free condoms for years, but recently there has been talk of how to brand them so they are unmistakably New York. I was talking with Jerry and Jenna over the weekend about how we would like to see them packaged. I think our favorite was to use various skyscrapers. We figured they would run out of the Empire State Building ones in no time flat. The city went with the "subway" look. I hope people don't take this as a location suggestion.

"There's always next year..."

As my sister pointed out after the Superbowl (aka: Big Disappointment) last night, "There's always next year." This isn't an unfamiliar phrase spoken around Chicago in reference to our sports teams. Hell, the Cubs wouldn't have any fans at all if every single one of them didn't believe this statement wholeheartedly each year. Of course the beer doesn't hurt. Now that I think about it, its probably equal parts; "There's always next year" and beer.

This principle really applies to all our sport teams. The Bears have sucked for the better part of twenty years. The Cubs for more than fifty. It took the White Sox over eighty years to get past their own bad karma from 1919. I seem to remember the Blackhawks being something to watch when I was in college, but I was easily impressed by hockey in college. Our saving grace was the Bulls. Ahhhh, the Bulls. Wasn't it a wonderful time to live in Chicago when we had Michael Jordan and the twice three-peating Bulls? Our riotous gunfight celebrations were bigger and better than any other city!

The point is this, with the exception of a few shining spots of our sports history, we've not had the best record. But Chicago sticks by its crappy teams. We love them. Sure, we may blame a few players for losing the Superbowl for a little while, but all will be forgiven in time. We can bust out the giant lion helmets next year. The Sears Tower isn't going to throw away its blue and orange lights.

So I join my fellow Chicagoans in saying to the Bears, "There's alway next year!" But keep the beer flowing, just in case.

Is it Christmas? No, Chicago is in the Superbowl!

The day has finally arrived. After so many years the Bears are back in the Superbowl. And they're playing a herd of horses. No problem. Even though sports experts are picking the Colts to win by 7 points, Chicago stands behind their team. We know the Bears have it in them, and if we could make it this far, we can make it all the way.

To see some pictures around Chicago before the big game check out this flickr set. Only in Chicago would the entire town be decked out with orange and blue lights, football helmets on landmarks and works of public art, and massive office light coordination. We doubt Indy has the same team spirit... or any tall buildings to display it on for that matter. I've never been to Indy myself, but I picture the Chicago suburb of Naperville growing out of the middle of a cornfield.

Admittedly, I don't know much about football. I can follow the game, but I hardly know any players and the only concept I have a solid grasp on is creating a hole and running through it. Oh, and that there is usually a flag on the play. Despite my pigskin ignorance, I have strong memories of Bears football. You see, my dad loved football. He played in high school. He watched the Bears every single Sunday, usually with one of my uncles. While I was off somewhere else in the house I would hear them screaming at Ditka for four straight hours, as if Da Coach could hear them (as an adult I now realize this behavior applies to ALL male football fans, not just my family). And even though I was only eight years old I can remember the Bears 85-86 Superbowl season surprisingly well. I remember watching the games and I knew all the players. But those were amazing guys and an amazing team, they were players you could really look up to. They did the Superbowl Shuffle. My cousins and I had that thing memorized and would perform it for our family. It must have been absolutely hilarious to watch us doing that. A little preview for when we would perform to the New Kids on the Block in the 90s.

So even though I don't know much about the game, growing up in a football house and being from Chicago I know a lot about city and team pride. So even though I call New York home at the moment, I would put my money on the Bears to win in an instant... if I had any to bet. Before the big game tonight I give one more shout out to my home town forever, my home team forever...

GO CHICAGO!!!!!!!! GO BEARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Breaking News: Both Teams Happy To Be In Superbowl

More Dave Barry on the Superbowl in Miami... this time he has fun with Media Day.

GO BEARS!!!!!!!!!!!

Chicagoans, be careful down in Miami

Watch out for those sneaky Floridians! Mr. Barry is a funny man but he's up to no good! And for Christ's sake, keep clear of David Caruso!

GO BEARS!!!

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.

I live in 1984

Last night I was lugging my laundry across the street to the laundromat when I heard music. I looked to my right, and there he was... a guy holding a boom box. I almost tripped when I saw him. I couldn't believe it. When the "ghetto blaster" craze was at it's height I still wasn't allowed to leave the neighborhood alone. And here was a guy, 20 years later, walking down my street, carrying a rather large all-black boom box.

Perhaps he's a throwback to a simpler time, rebelling against iPods and, hell, even portable CD players. But maybe the boom box never faded away. The craze may have passed but the boom box held tight and persevered these many years. Maybe we haven't seen the last of the boom box...

Apple could be working on something right now.

Do you have what it takes to be a Squash Steward?

This is hilarious not only because it's amazing that people take squash (the fruit) this seriously, but also because using the word "squash" so often is just funny.

Who knew?

Apparently the subway is by far the safest way to travel in New York...

There's a reason the Mayor takes the subway.
Commuter railroads may seem nicer, but make sure to look down.
The cops on New Jersey roads aren't making me feel better about the state, or travelling on the highways.

Left my cobra on the N train

During my morning commute I generally read for the duration of the subway ride, fitting right in with the rest of New Yorkers who are forced to be together in order to get where they are going, but fervently taking measures to interact as little as possible. The only time I do look up is to check the weather and the view as the train passes over the Manhattan bridge. Today, however, the train was exceptionally crowded, making it hard to read. So I looked around. Right above me was an ad for the MTA Lost Property Unit. I had seen the sign before but only at a glance and never really looked at it. Today I did. I was amazed at the things people seem to lose on the subway.


I realize it can be difficult to keep track of your cobra, but how do you leave behind a prosthetic limb? Don't you need that? Along the same lines, how do you get on the subway with a crutch and exit without it? Are people miraculously healed while riding on certain lines? Does Jesus live on the subway? Because if this is the case I've still got a sprained ankle that could use a miracle, and I'd like to know which line he rolls on.

Clearly this sign begs more questions than it answers. But it is nice to know that if I'm old and still living in New York I will be able to get my dentures back when they fall out of my mouth on the bus to the bingo hall.

Even elevators need a holiday

This was posted in my building today...

That elevator better be well rested and ready to work when it's back in on Tuesday!

Sign me up

I never understood the need for Tivo. I have always considered it one of those technologies that would be nice to have if you just had money lying around. Like CD players when they first came out, or cell phones before they detached from the bag in the car. I mean, really people, if you are going to be out during the occasional episode, it's okay, you can use your $25 VCR to record that hour you just can't miss. And this system has worked just fine for me for a very long time.

Until now.

Now I have a real job. A job where I'm the last person to touch the output of a project before sending it on to the client. A job where most of the work comes in sometime after noon, and continues from there. A job where I tend to be the last to leave on my project team.

Don't misunderstand, I really love my job. The work is fun and the people are amusing. And they really start getting silly once its past dinner time. Tonight my boss, the VP of Production (who shaves his head), comes walking back to his desk when a young woman on my Rockwell team just blurts out, "Eugene, your head looks really shiny today." It was maybe the funniest random bizarre comment pulled out of thin air that I've heard in ages. Luckily for her, Eugene is kinda awesome, took it as the strangest compliment ever and laughed.

But back on track... I like TV. I know, it's bad. It's rotting my brain. I shouldn't watch TV-- I should read, or cook, or walk through the park avoiding unsavory characters. I do like to read, but I read on the subway. I don't mind cooking, but only do it out of necessity to eat. And I do really like to walk through the park, but just not at night. So, yeah, when I get home from thinking all day, I like to unwind by escaping my reality and watching fake peoples' lives, followed by the fake news compliments of Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert.

I'll generally be working late, sometimes quite late, and mostly I can't plan ahead for when that will be. Sure, I could set up my VCR every morning to tape the shows I like that night just in case I won't be home... but lets be real here. Even if I didn't cut it within an inch of being right-on-time every day and actually had the time to set it, most of the time I would forget anyway. So I admit to all of you, my dear readers, in front of the gods of the internet and whoever might be reading over your shoulder that...

I need Tivo.

Hey, put away the violins! This isn't only about me. I just learned tonight that the show my TV Boyfriend is on has moved to a half an hour earlier on Monday. What kind of TV-stalker Girlfriend would I be if I didn't watch him every single week? A bad one, that's what.

So this weekend I will call Time Warner to settle an incorrect billing issue that has been festering for too long, and reward them for their incopetence by giving them more money for their DVR service. It's the price I'll have to pay... can't risk missing my boy on Monday night.

Sweet Home Chicago

This weekend I was back in Chicago for my sister's 26th birthday. That's the two of us... looking nothing alike, but we love each other anyway.

It was a great weekend. Leah, Mom and I had dinner together Friday night at a very yummy restaurant, Hot Chocolate, where we ate way too much but it's hard not to at that place. Saturday we shopped together during the day, and many pairs of shoes were purchased. After shopping Mom's boyfriend, Homer, joined us for sushi dinner at Coast. Mmmmm.

Afterwards Mom, Homer and I dropped Leah off and went to the Shakespeare Rep Theater for a performance of Hamlet (We didn't ditch her, she had no interest in seeing it.) The performance was a little disappointing. Mom and I have a subscription to this theater where we see three plays a year. Usually we love them, and I was really looking forward to this because I like Hamlet a lot. But the performance was just okay this time. Bummer.

Sunday I had brunch with Rob and Nicole and hung out with Mom in Millennium Park. Seeing one of my best friends and walking around the park on such a beautiful day, soaking up the architecture and the feeling of the city really made me miss Chicago. It was quite hard getting on the plane to come back to New York (and not just because I wasn't looking forward to hanging out on the jetway for an hour before taking off). Even though I love my job and think New York is an amazing place, I miss Chicago a ton. I assume these feelings will fade over time... I've only been here for two months, my job is brand new and I have just a few friends here right now. In time I'll settle in, meet more pople and dig in to the job. But Chicago will always be the city I call home, for a million reasons.

So in this post I give a big shout out to Chicago... and shall return to the strangeness of New York soon. Perhaps this week I'll be able to snap a picture of the crazy guy kicking a filthy amoeba shaped pillow around Union Square.