I noticed a number of attributes of other people today that scared/disappointed/annoyed me to an extreme. I chalk my observations up to three possibilities:
1. My brain is so frazzled and ready for vacation that I am singularly focused on anything other than work.
2. People are incapable of following the orders and advice of millions of dollars worth of research, media portrayals, medical care, entertainment sources, fashion magazines, etc. that aspire to make our country prettier and healthier.
3. People are just idiots.
So here's what I noticed today:
A) There are still a hell of a lot of people out there who smoke. I mean a lot. In 2007, I have absolutely no sympathy for anyone who croaks of a smoke-related disease.
B) A bra has a purpose. If it's not doing its job, get a new one. No one wants to see that.
C) Wearing a tiny dress that is about 6 sizes too small and made of unforgiving fabric when you are about 100 pounds overweight INVITES people to stare at you and (silently or unsilently) judge, especially when said dress allows everyone sitting across from you on the subway to see your hoo-ha. There are many ways to fix this problem. Choose one or all of them. Now.
D) Ordering a side of mayonnaise for your french fries in a relatively nice restaurant should require you to be booted out the door.
In conclusion, people are freaks.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
JT at MSG
I'm gonna hate myself in the morning.
But right now, I'm still kind of dancing.
And my ears are still kind of ringing.
There is no concert venue like Madison Square Garden. And seriously, there is no singer/dancer/guitarist/pianist (who knew?)/performer like Mr. Justin Timberlake.
We were all of 30 feet from him all night, because my friend had an "in" through work.
Twas fucking awesome.
But right now, I'm still kind of dancing.
And my ears are still kind of ringing.
There is no concert venue like Madison Square Garden. And seriously, there is no singer/dancer/guitarist/pianist (who knew?)/performer like Mr. Justin Timberlake.
We were all of 30 feet from him all night, because my friend had an "in" through work.
Twas fucking awesome.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Monday Musings
4 days til vacation. Buying a bikini online from Lands End was quite the smart decision. End of summer sales + natural lighting make girls happy.
August in New York City is a drag. Well, August in general is always kind of a drag (I am so ready for sweaters and scarves), but when there is no breeze and the heat from the sun simply refracts off the concrete and glass there is no release.
Practical Magic might be the dumbest movie ever. Yet I haven't turned the channel.
I have to be in court in the morning, do a deposition at 2, and deal with a conference call with an opposing attorney and a judge at 3:45. Boss #2 is on trial, so I thought Boss #1 would at least handle one of these. Nope. He'll be chilling in his office all day while I run around like a chicken with its head cut off. Grr.
August in New York City is a drag. Well, August in general is always kind of a drag (I am so ready for sweaters and scarves), but when there is no breeze and the heat from the sun simply refracts off the concrete and glass there is no release.
Practical Magic might be the dumbest movie ever. Yet I haven't turned the channel.
I have to be in court in the morning, do a deposition at 2, and deal with a conference call with an opposing attorney and a judge at 3:45. Boss #2 is on trial, so I thought Boss #1 would at least handle one of these. Nope. He'll be chilling in his office all day while I run around like a chicken with its head cut off. Grr.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
The Best Wednesday Ever!
My day at a glance:
8am: get out of bed. (happy that I had the chance to sleep in because of today's deposition at which I had to arrive at 10.)
8:25am: hear on TV that the 1,2, and 3 lines are shut down because of flooding.
9am: leave my apartment planning on walking to the A/C lines to get downtown.
9:15: arrive at the A/C lines to discover that they are not running, but the #1 train is.
9:25: get on the #1 downtown.
9:45: arrive at Columbus Circle, an announcement is made that no trains are going any further downtown, and commuters should try to take a bus.
10am. 10:15. 10:20. 5 bursting full buses pass where I and many others are waiting.
10:30: Boss #1 calls me while walking (and walking and walking) to the office. He tells me to sit tight while he tries to find out if the deposition is going forward or whether I should just try to make my way to the office. Not that I could hop a cab anyway as they are all full.
10:30-11: I "sit tight" (read: standing, sweating, dripping, muttering) and chat with others who are similarly stranded.
11:10: I haven't heard from anyone. I walk to Times Square and take the N train, which seems to be the only one going anywhere further downtown.
11:30: get out at City Hall, after witnessing a fistfight on the subway platform. Contemplate jumping into the fountain in the middle of City Hall Plaza.
11:35: Check my voicemail, which tells me to forget the deposition and just get to work when I can.
12pm: arrive at the office, pant cuffs rolled up to capris length, glistening with my own sweat and probably that of other people (ew), and sit down in my nice air conditioned office.
12:45: we get a call that someone needs to appear in criminal court on a case. Fuck. Immediately I know it's gonna be me.
2:15: show up in court, call out the client's name (because I've never met her) in the hallway and softer in the courtroom.
2:30: Call out the client's name again.
2:45: Client shows up.
3:45: get back to the office. Realize I may die of starvation, having eaten nothing but a yogurt and way too much iced coffee all day.
4pm: Scarf down a quite delicious and hearty salad. Definitely the highlight of the day.
6pm: Arrive at the gym. Work out for all of 40 minutes.
7:45: Arrive home. After a very slow subway ride. But at least it was running. Proceed to crank up the air conditioner and take a long cool shower.
Attention, MTA New York City Transit: the terrorists are taking notes. You fuck up this badly because of some rain, and you expect us to swallow a fare hike in the next year? Please.
Also, there shouldn't be tornados in Brooklyn. Ever. I'm blaming George Bush. As usual.
8am: get out of bed. (happy that I had the chance to sleep in because of today's deposition at which I had to arrive at 10.)
8:25am: hear on TV that the 1,2, and 3 lines are shut down because of flooding.
9am: leave my apartment planning on walking to the A/C lines to get downtown.
9:15: arrive at the A/C lines to discover that they are not running, but the #1 train is.
9:25: get on the #1 downtown.
9:45: arrive at Columbus Circle, an announcement is made that no trains are going any further downtown, and commuters should try to take a bus.
10am. 10:15. 10:20. 5 bursting full buses pass where I and many others are waiting.
10:30: Boss #1 calls me while walking (and walking and walking) to the office. He tells me to sit tight while he tries to find out if the deposition is going forward or whether I should just try to make my way to the office. Not that I could hop a cab anyway as they are all full.
10:30-11: I "sit tight" (read: standing, sweating, dripping, muttering) and chat with others who are similarly stranded.
11:10: I haven't heard from anyone. I walk to Times Square and take the N train, which seems to be the only one going anywhere further downtown.
11:30: get out at City Hall, after witnessing a fistfight on the subway platform. Contemplate jumping into the fountain in the middle of City Hall Plaza.
11:35: Check my voicemail, which tells me to forget the deposition and just get to work when I can.
12pm: arrive at the office, pant cuffs rolled up to capris length, glistening with my own sweat and probably that of other people (ew), and sit down in my nice air conditioned office.
12:45: we get a call that someone needs to appear in criminal court on a case. Fuck. Immediately I know it's gonna be me.
2:15: show up in court, call out the client's name (because I've never met her) in the hallway and softer in the courtroom.
2:30: Call out the client's name again.
2:45: Client shows up.
3:45: get back to the office. Realize I may die of starvation, having eaten nothing but a yogurt and way too much iced coffee all day.
4pm: Scarf down a quite delicious and hearty salad. Definitely the highlight of the day.
6pm: Arrive at the gym. Work out for all of 40 minutes.
7:45: Arrive home. After a very slow subway ride. But at least it was running. Proceed to crank up the air conditioner and take a long cool shower.
Attention, MTA New York City Transit: the terrorists are taking notes. You fuck up this badly because of some rain, and you expect us to swallow a fare hike in the next year? Please.
Also, there shouldn't be tornados in Brooklyn. Ever. I'm blaming George Bush. As usual.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
There's really no PC way to say this.
But being PC is so '90s and totally overrated and unhelpful.
So. Here's my gripe.
I have a problem with Latino men. Not all of them. Only the distinct subset who adhere to the machismo mindset that it is perfectly acceptable to make physical, visual, and auditory references to girls and women who are simply walking down the fucking street. I realize that all men check out women. We do a lot of checking out of our own. Believe you me. However, I cannot describe how much I prefer the subtle once overs and subdued eye contact to the in your face bullshit that seems to only come from Latino men.
Has living in New York made me a racist? I don't think so. This is how I feel. I had a conversation with my mom about it. My mother. Who has been on many national panels and given presentations at numerous conferences about her work in all things race-related. We came to the conclusion that as long as I continue with the meta-awareness, I shouldn't feel guilty about my thoughts and feelings. So I don't.
And I didn't, again, when just now on the way home I was faced with another example of pure cultural indecency. Assholes.
To end on a less inflammatory note, The Bourne Ultimatum was not exactly excellent, but highly entertaining nonetheless. It's rare that people actually clap both during and after a movie.
So. Here's my gripe.
I have a problem with Latino men. Not all of them. Only the distinct subset who adhere to the machismo mindset that it is perfectly acceptable to make physical, visual, and auditory references to girls and women who are simply walking down the fucking street. I realize that all men check out women. We do a lot of checking out of our own. Believe you me. However, I cannot describe how much I prefer the subtle once overs and subdued eye contact to the in your face bullshit that seems to only come from Latino men.
Has living in New York made me a racist? I don't think so. This is how I feel. I had a conversation with my mom about it. My mother. Who has been on many national panels and given presentations at numerous conferences about her work in all things race-related. We came to the conclusion that as long as I continue with the meta-awareness, I shouldn't feel guilty about my thoughts and feelings. So I don't.
And I didn't, again, when just now on the way home I was faced with another example of pure cultural indecency. Assholes.
To end on a less inflammatory note, The Bourne Ultimatum was not exactly excellent, but highly entertaining nonetheless. It's rare that people actually clap both during and after a movie.
Monday, August 06, 2007
Getting Out of Town
does a body (and mind) good.
I went to visit the 'rents for a few days to be taken care of, and it was glorious. And then I got back to the muggy smelly city to get through the next two weeks until I can spend a week lying on the beach. Ahhh.
The only thing that sucked about the weekend was Amtrak. I feel like it used to be somewhat highbrow, and now it's as shitty as the rest of the country's modes of transportation. Unexpected and unexplained delays, overcrowding, bad customer service, etc. And I fell asleep with my right leg bent in some awful position and now my knee really fucking hurts. (I guess that's not Amtrak's fault, but I'll blame them anyway.)
I went to visit the 'rents for a few days to be taken care of, and it was glorious. And then I got back to the muggy smelly city to get through the next two weeks until I can spend a week lying on the beach. Ahhh.
The only thing that sucked about the weekend was Amtrak. I feel like it used to be somewhat highbrow, and now it's as shitty as the rest of the country's modes of transportation. Unexpected and unexplained delays, overcrowding, bad customer service, etc. And I fell asleep with my right leg bent in some awful position and now my knee really fucking hurts. (I guess that's not Amtrak's fault, but I'll blame them anyway.)
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Only in New York
I'm doing better. Still sad, but you good people don't need to hear more of that. So instead, I'll share this little tidbit with you:
I was standing in line at the drug store around 3pm when a very drunk and quite well dressed gentleman stumbled in, proceeded to come right up to little old me (dressed in business casual - not exactly looking like a store employee) and slurred "I just closed a million dollar deal and had a 4 hour lunch. Can you tell me where the aspirin is? And some water?" I simply said "Um, I don't work here." And what did he say? "Well, in that case, whaddya say you and me go start having an early dinner?"
After not so delicately extricating myself from the situation (i.e., cutting the line to quickly pay for my shampoo and magazine) I went back to the office and saw that this was the #1 most emailed article in the Times today.
Huh.
I was standing in line at the drug store around 3pm when a very drunk and quite well dressed gentleman stumbled in, proceeded to come right up to little old me (dressed in business casual - not exactly looking like a store employee) and slurred "I just closed a million dollar deal and had a 4 hour lunch. Can you tell me where the aspirin is? And some water?" I simply said "Um, I don't work here." And what did he say? "Well, in that case, whaddya say you and me go start having an early dinner?"
After not so delicately extricating myself from the situation (i.e., cutting the line to quickly pay for my shampoo and magazine) I went back to the office and saw that this was the #1 most emailed article in the Times today.
Huh.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Sadness
Lily, the calico I adopted six months ago from the ASPCA, was put to sleep today. She had not been eating or drinking water very much for the past week or so, and then the past couple of days she stopped completely, and was very very weak. I was so focused on Chloe over the past few weeks and her doggie menopause (she's absolutely fine) I hadn't really considered Lily could be sick.
She had been lethargic but seemingly ok, but today she was unable to walk and visibly not ok. I rushed her to the vet, and the doctor performed one test, and knew right away that she had Feline Infectious Peritonitis (FIP), for which there is nothing to be done. She most likely contracted it in the shelter, and had it when I adopted her but only recently became symptomatic. I know there was nothing I could have done, and I only had her for 6 months, but it's still obviously extremely upsetting and painful.
I've clearly been a mess all day, on the phone with my mom (who was about to get in the car and drive 4 hours to NYC until I convinced her not to - I had been planning on going home next weekend anyway) and various friends, two of whom immediately got in a cab and met me at the vet's office.
I decided to stay in the room with Lily and the vet while the procedure was done, and although it was very difficult, I couldn't bear leaving her alone, although I'm sure it's a choice a lot of people make. I remember when Velvet, our family cat who was the same age as me, had to be put to sleep when I (and she) was 16, my mom stayed in the room with the vet but I couldn't do it. I guess we grow up.
And now I have to actually be a grown up and go to work tomorrow and get on with it. I may tell people first thing in the morning what happened, just so they don't wig out if/when I randomly tear up over the next few days.
Chloe better get used to my being clingy for a while.
She had been lethargic but seemingly ok, but today she was unable to walk and visibly not ok. I rushed her to the vet, and the doctor performed one test, and knew right away that she had Feline Infectious Peritonitis (FIP), for which there is nothing to be done. She most likely contracted it in the shelter, and had it when I adopted her but only recently became symptomatic. I know there was nothing I could have done, and I only had her for 6 months, but it's still obviously extremely upsetting and painful.
I've clearly been a mess all day, on the phone with my mom (who was about to get in the car and drive 4 hours to NYC until I convinced her not to - I had been planning on going home next weekend anyway) and various friends, two of whom immediately got in a cab and met me at the vet's office.
I decided to stay in the room with Lily and the vet while the procedure was done, and although it was very difficult, I couldn't bear leaving her alone, although I'm sure it's a choice a lot of people make. I remember when Velvet, our family cat who was the same age as me, had to be put to sleep when I (and she) was 16, my mom stayed in the room with the vet but I couldn't do it. I guess we grow up.
And now I have to actually be a grown up and go to work tomorrow and get on with it. I may tell people first thing in the morning what happened, just so they don't wig out if/when I randomly tear up over the next few days.
Chloe better get used to my being clingy for a while.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
"I don't think I've actually gotten to my life yet."
That statement made my friend spit out her drink in laughter last night. I wasn't trying to be funny, but apparently I'm a hoot.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Mid Week Musings
The TSA has announced that would be terrorists may be doing some dry runs in preparation for something big. I'll never look at a block of cheese the same way again. So naturally, because they're so focused on identifying bomb-making components, it's a great time to also let people bring lighters on planes again, right? Right.
I've had a charlie horse in my left calf for 14 hours. It first bit at 6:30 am (what a way to wake up), and has lingered ever since. I need a massage.
I was absorbed in my own little world on the subway ride home when a man sat down next to me, and I was instantly transported back to the summer before 9th grade. This man wore the same cologne/aftershave/something that my first real boyfriend wore that fateful Summer of the First Kiss. He was a good guy. I probably shouldn't have made my best friend at the time break up with him for me right before Christmas by returning his varsity hockey jacket in a shopping bag.
My sources have informed me that the first essay on the NY bar exam was on commercial paper. Ouch. But I'd bet 75% of test takers bombed it, so the curve will work perfectly well.
Excuses 1, Responsibility 0.
Finally, I just got an electric bill for $113.48 because I refuse to let Chloe and Lily suffer in the hot weather every day. And how do they repay me? By knocking over the garbage can and snoring next to my head.
Update: I've just watched 15 minutes of F/X's new show Damages. It has indeed damaged me, as I'll never get those 15 minutes back.
I've had a charlie horse in my left calf for 14 hours. It first bit at 6:30 am (what a way to wake up), and has lingered ever since. I need a massage.
I was absorbed in my own little world on the subway ride home when a man sat down next to me, and I was instantly transported back to the summer before 9th grade. This man wore the same cologne/aftershave/something that my first real boyfriend wore that fateful Summer of the First Kiss. He was a good guy. I probably shouldn't have made my best friend at the time break up with him for me right before Christmas by returning his varsity hockey jacket in a shopping bag.
My sources have informed me that the first essay on the NY bar exam was on commercial paper. Ouch. But I'd bet 75% of test takers bombed it, so the curve will work perfectly well.
Excuses 1, Responsibility 0.
Finally, I just got an electric bill for $113.48 because I refuse to let Chloe and Lily suffer in the hot weather every day. And how do they repay me? By knocking over the garbage can and snoring next to my head.
Update: I've just watched 15 minutes of F/X's new show Damages. It has indeed damaged me, as I'll never get those 15 minutes back.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Untitled.
There are productive days. There are not so productive days. And then there are the I'm-so-annoyed/tired/confused/worried-about-X that I'm just gonna sit here and pretend to do work days. Today was one of those. Not sure what exactly prompted it, except I kept picturing myself lying on the beach and reading Nora Roberts "novels", which isn't going to happen for another 3 weeks. So maybe I just need a break. After 7 months. Ha. At least Lindsay Lohan kept me entertained.
And now for a nonsequiter, am I the only one who didn't think the CNN You-tube debate was a big deal? Or even remotely more interesting than the other platitude-filled old fashioned debates? Am I supposed to think it's edgy that the candidates could potentially be flustered by Dan Dumbass in Utah? I miss the days of Al Gore and his locked box.
And now for a nonsequiter, am I the only one who didn't think the CNN You-tube debate was a big deal? Or even remotely more interesting than the other platitude-filled old fashioned debates? Am I supposed to think it's edgy that the candidates could potentially be flustered by Dan Dumbass in Utah? I miss the days of Al Gore and his locked box.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
If you want to smile for a solid two hours,
go see Hairspray.
Seriously, it's the most joyous movie of the summer, and you will leave the theater skipping.
I don't wanna go to work tomorrow. But I'm not going to complain (much), because I know for a bunch of you out there it's Bar Week, and not in the hopping kind of way. I won't say good luck, because it's pointless and you don't need it, but I will say this: even when you leave Day 1 feeling like shit, stumble though Day 2 feeling like you're going to vomit, and for anyone lucky/stupid enough to have a Day 3, somehow make your way through it despite having felt like you've entered some parallel universe and have ingested almost nothing besides Diet Coke and a huge soft pretzel at Penn Station by that point (maybe that was just me), you will be done very soon and will join the ranks of those of us on The Otherside.
Seriously, it's the most joyous movie of the summer, and you will leave the theater skipping.
I don't wanna go to work tomorrow. But I'm not going to complain (much), because I know for a bunch of you out there it's Bar Week, and not in the hopping kind of way. I won't say good luck, because it's pointless and you don't need it, but I will say this: even when you leave Day 1 feeling like shit, stumble though Day 2 feeling like you're going to vomit, and for anyone lucky/stupid enough to have a Day 3, somehow make your way through it despite having felt like you've entered some parallel universe and have ingested almost nothing besides Diet Coke and a huge soft pretzel at Penn Station by that point (maybe that was just me), you will be done very soon and will join the ranks of those of us on The Otherside.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
"I don't need any new ideas. I'm confused enough already."*
I was standing in line next to this guy at the Bed Bath & Beyond near Lincoln Center today. I wanted to say "Hey weren't you in those Edward Burns movies?" But I thought that would be kinda mean, so instead I just stared and smiled. He did smile back, but I don't know if it's because he was a) being polite, b) thought I was cute, or c) just thought I was retarded. I'll assume b.
*If you haven't seen The Brothers McMullen, go forth and rent.
*If you haven't seen The Brothers McMullen, go forth and rent.
Friday, July 20, 2007
If it weren't for those pesky rules of ethics...
I met a beautiful man today. Handsome, well-spoken, fit, intelligent, with an impressive career. I was smitten.
Unfortunately for me, he was sitting on the opposite side of our conference table while I deposed him.
I had to concentrate twice as hard as usual on my questions because I kept getting lost in the calming sea of his blue, blue eyes....sigh. I'll just say that he's in the NYC version of the Navy Seals, and damn, are they impressive. He wasn't actually in one, but I do love a man in uniform.
I usually try to be somewhat skeptical of whoever I'm deposing because it forces me to ask follow up questions and probe as much as possible. With this guy, I found myself simply nodding and believing everything he said! And then after a split second I would mentally slap myself and ask another question.
If I responded this way, this guy's gonna make one hell of an impression on a jury...
Unfortunately for me, he was sitting on the opposite side of our conference table while I deposed him.
I had to concentrate twice as hard as usual on my questions because I kept getting lost in the calming sea of his blue, blue eyes....sigh. I'll just say that he's in the NYC version of the Navy Seals, and damn, are they impressive. He wasn't actually in one, but I do love a man in uniform.
I usually try to be somewhat skeptical of whoever I'm deposing because it forces me to ask follow up questions and probe as much as possible. With this guy, I found myself simply nodding and believing everything he said! And then after a split second I would mentally slap myself and ask another question.
If I responded this way, this guy's gonna make one hell of an impression on a jury...
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Random Thoughts.
So Chloe has a hormone imbalance. Loss of estrogen or some such thing which is common in older female dogs. I almost lost it when the vet called her old. So from now on she'll take a pill twice a day and hopefully everything will be fine.
I spent three hours in court this morning for ABSOLUTELY no reason. My adversary didn't show up, and when I finally called his office before the final calendar call, a secretary spoke to me like I was an idiot saying why was I in court when they faxed us a signed stipulation yesterday withdrawing their motion? And then I didn't quite yell at her, but very strongly told her that SHE MUST BE A FUCKING IDIOT BECAUSE WE NEVER RECEIVED A FAXED STIPULATION YESTERDAY. And then she went to check, and sure enough, it had never been faxed. Jackasses.
This article makes steam come out of my ears. It's nothing I didn't know regarding the absurdity of large firms, but the arrogance and smugness makes me want to shoot myself.
Thankfully today's explosion in midtown wasn't terrorism. But the fact that we have steam pipes down there from 1928 pretty much means that that they will likely keep exploding. Makes traveling underground in the subway built in 1904 really appealing.
I spent three hours in court this morning for ABSOLUTELY no reason. My adversary didn't show up, and when I finally called his office before the final calendar call, a secretary spoke to me like I was an idiot saying why was I in court when they faxed us a signed stipulation yesterday withdrawing their motion? And then I didn't quite yell at her, but very strongly told her that SHE MUST BE A FUCKING IDIOT BECAUSE WE NEVER RECEIVED A FAXED STIPULATION YESTERDAY. And then she went to check, and sure enough, it had never been faxed. Jackasses.
This article makes steam come out of my ears. It's nothing I didn't know regarding the absurdity of large firms, but the arrogance and smugness makes me want to shoot myself.
Thankfully today's explosion in midtown wasn't terrorism. But the fact that we have steam pipes down there from 1928 pretty much means that that they will likely keep exploding. Makes traveling underground in the subway built in 1904 really appealing.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
How do lonely lawyers spend their Sunday nights?
Apparently, they sip wine and watch Angels in the Outfield on the Cartoon Network while theoretically reading over deposition testimony.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Go home.
Listen up, Manhattan tourists. It's time to leave. I know you contribute millions of dollars to the city's economy, but if you don't stop pissing off the people who live here, we're gonna organize some kind of revolt. This week alone, you subjected me to the following displays of stupidity:
1. Walking down the street side by side is usually ok. But when there are 7 of you moving at the speed of molasses and you're all taking pictures (of really ugly window displays, by the way. wtf?) it's very hard for the rest of us to get by you without getting hit by a cab.
2. I realize the subway is confusing. I got lost on the F train the other day myself because I thought I'd try a different route back to the office from the courthouse in Queens. But holding the door open for whole minutes while one of you attempts to read the great big map on the platform is unacceptable. There are also maps inside the train cars! Or you could just ask someone! We won't bite. Well, most of us. Just let the train get on its way.
3. This is still America. If you don't speak English, don't start screaming at the poor tired waiter who doesn't understand what the fuck you're trying to order. Point to something on the menu, or to a plate at another damn table if you must, and be happy with it. (Was that ethnocentric and/or racist? Sorry. No wait. I'm not.)
4. Don't. Steal. Other. People's. Cabs. Ever.
5. Finally, contrary to popular belief, the giant construction site that used to be the World Trade Center is not, I repeat, not supposed to be a tourist attraction. It may have turned into one, because of natural curiosity and interest, but it still deserves some measure of respect. Therefore, it's not an appropriate spot to pose for pictures WITH YOUR ENTIRE POSSE GIVING A BUNCH OF "HANG TEN" THUMB/PINKY GESTURES TO THE CAMERA. Again, wtf.
In sum, spend your money, take your buggy rides in Central Park, and then do us all a favor and get the hell out.
1. Walking down the street side by side is usually ok. But when there are 7 of you moving at the speed of molasses and you're all taking pictures (of really ugly window displays, by the way. wtf?) it's very hard for the rest of us to get by you without getting hit by a cab.
2. I realize the subway is confusing. I got lost on the F train the other day myself because I thought I'd try a different route back to the office from the courthouse in Queens. But holding the door open for whole minutes while one of you attempts to read the great big map on the platform is unacceptable. There are also maps inside the train cars! Or you could just ask someone! We won't bite. Well, most of us. Just let the train get on its way.
3. This is still America. If you don't speak English, don't start screaming at the poor tired waiter who doesn't understand what the fuck you're trying to order. Point to something on the menu, or to a plate at another damn table if you must, and be happy with it. (Was that ethnocentric and/or racist? Sorry. No wait. I'm not.)
4. Don't. Steal. Other. People's. Cabs. Ever.
5. Finally, contrary to popular belief, the giant construction site that used to be the World Trade Center is not, I repeat, not supposed to be a tourist attraction. It may have turned into one, because of natural curiosity and interest, but it still deserves some measure of respect. Therefore, it's not an appropriate spot to pose for pictures WITH YOUR ENTIRE POSSE GIVING A BUNCH OF "HANG TEN" THUMB/PINKY GESTURES TO THE CAMERA. Again, wtf.
In sum, spend your money, take your buggy rides in Central Park, and then do us all a favor and get the hell out.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
I'm all for crackdowns...
but DAMN, this is harsh. Although, if I were one of the pet owners whose beloved dog or cat died because of tainted food that this guy had something to do with, I'd say the punishment fit the crime.
Speaking of my pup, I'm trying not to get too worried about this, but she's been exhibiting a bit of sleep-induced incontinence lately. She's going on 14. I know she's no spring chicken, but she seems her general chipper self and doesn't seem sick other than the 3 occasions of peeing during her sleep. So I made a vet appointment for Thursday evening. I'll freak out then if I have to.
And just because she's pretty: I present Chloe.
Speaking of my pup, I'm trying not to get too worried about this, but she's been exhibiting a bit of sleep-induced incontinence lately. She's going on 14. I know she's no spring chicken, but she seems her general chipper self and doesn't seem sick other than the 3 occasions of peeing during her sleep. So I made a vet appointment for Thursday evening. I'll freak out then if I have to.
And just because she's pretty: I present Chloe.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Family Matters and Sprained Elbows
This may turn into some sort of rant. I suggest you get a drink.
I had a very long and not very pleasant phone conversation with my sister today. It started out well enough. Chatting, gossiping, whining, as per usual. And then she made a joke that...didn't go over well with me. I'm not gonna get into the substance of it or why exactly it bothered me, at least right now. Maybe later. But it opened up a can o' worms that has stayed pretty well closed the last, oh 8 years or so. It rears its ugly head now and then, but we overeducated supposedly emotionally open and available liberal thinking heavily self-analyzing types quickly push it back beneath the surface before things get too tense. But my sister and I didn't do that today. Things were then said on both sides that needn't have been said. Truths were spoken.
Now we all know that sometimes speaking the truth serves no purpose other than to hurt or piss off the other person. Like when a friend asks how she looks and you say fine (read: you lie) but then suggest she wear X instead because right now she looks totally hideous/frumpy/stupid/inappropriate. But the tables turn when you're talking about people and issues that have and will continue to affect your entire lives. Is it really better to lie and let your loved one continue to delude themselves and refuse reality? I don't know.
There was some eventual crying. And some cursing. And some rationalizations. (A lot of rationalizations. They're more important than sex!) And some realization. And some more cursing.
We didn't exactly end the call on a warm and fuzzy note. But I said "I love you" because I'm paranoid that the one time I don't say it the other person is immediately going to be hit by a car/struck by lightning/killed by terrorists or the like and I'm never going to get over the guilt of not telling him or her "I love you." But that doesn't mean I have to like them.
Jesus christ I'm sick of the iphone commercials. Yes, they're neat-o. We get it. Yes, I kind of want one. When the price drops and the kinks are worked out. They're fucking awesome, ok? WE GET IT. Now shut up, Apple.
My right arm fucking hurts. The majority of the soreness from that maniacal body sculpting class the other day has subsided (although I'm sure I looked like a retarded monkey while out running yesterday), but whenever I straighten my right arm I feel the need to scream. Fab.
I also found out today that a young man I once knew, not knew well but knew nonetheless, who joined the army after he graduated college in some warped attempt to please his military male heritage (I'm sorry. But it's true.) was killed in Iraq last week. I don't have anything to say about the war that hasn't been said by those who are far more eloquent than I, but the immense sadness, frustration, and pure anger that I can feel on behalf of someone I didn't know that well makes me weep for those who have lost so much more.
I miss the summers of my childhood. Which is funny, considering I've always preferred winter to summer. Maybe they're fake memories, conjured up from media-based images of lazy summer days where children frolic around barefoot drinking lemonade and slurping ice cream and sneak into movie theaters to escape the heat. I miss that. I'm not sure if I ever did it, but I miss it.
I had a very long and not very pleasant phone conversation with my sister today. It started out well enough. Chatting, gossiping, whining, as per usual. And then she made a joke that...didn't go over well with me. I'm not gonna get into the substance of it or why exactly it bothered me, at least right now. Maybe later. But it opened up a can o' worms that has stayed pretty well closed the last, oh 8 years or so. It rears its ugly head now and then, but we overeducated supposedly emotionally open and available liberal thinking heavily self-analyzing types quickly push it back beneath the surface before things get too tense. But my sister and I didn't do that today. Things were then said on both sides that needn't have been said. Truths were spoken.
Now we all know that sometimes speaking the truth serves no purpose other than to hurt or piss off the other person. Like when a friend asks how she looks and you say fine (read: you lie) but then suggest she wear X instead because right now she looks totally hideous/frumpy/stupid/inappropriate. But the tables turn when you're talking about people and issues that have and will continue to affect your entire lives. Is it really better to lie and let your loved one continue to delude themselves and refuse reality? I don't know.
There was some eventual crying. And some cursing. And some rationalizations. (A lot of rationalizations. They're more important than sex!) And some realization. And some more cursing.
We didn't exactly end the call on a warm and fuzzy note. But I said "I love you" because I'm paranoid that the one time I don't say it the other person is immediately going to be hit by a car/struck by lightning/killed by terrorists or the like and I'm never going to get over the guilt of not telling him or her "I love you." But that doesn't mean I have to like them.
Jesus christ I'm sick of the iphone commercials. Yes, they're neat-o. We get it. Yes, I kind of want one. When the price drops and the kinks are worked out. They're fucking awesome, ok? WE GET IT. Now shut up, Apple.
My right arm fucking hurts. The majority of the soreness from that maniacal body sculpting class the other day has subsided (although I'm sure I looked like a retarded monkey while out running yesterday), but whenever I straighten my right arm I feel the need to scream. Fab.
I also found out today that a young man I once knew, not knew well but knew nonetheless, who joined the army after he graduated college in some warped attempt to please his military male heritage (I'm sorry. But it's true.) was killed in Iraq last week. I don't have anything to say about the war that hasn't been said by those who are far more eloquent than I, but the immense sadness, frustration, and pure anger that I can feel on behalf of someone I didn't know that well makes me weep for those who have lost so much more.
I miss the summers of my childhood. Which is funny, considering I've always preferred winter to summer. Maybe they're fake memories, conjured up from media-based images of lazy summer days where children frolic around barefoot drinking lemonade and slurping ice cream and sneak into movie theaters to escape the heat. I miss that. I'm not sure if I ever did it, but I miss it.
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