Badass New Yorkers.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
Another Year Older in the Big Apple
A great group of 13 friends celebrated my 27th birthday on Friday with some Korean BBQ and soju. The night was fun. The food was good. The drinks were plentiful. The city smiled favorably upon me for one evening.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Public Transportation IV
Getting on modes of public transportation during peak times can be tricky and, at times, dangerous. I usually do okay since I am both small and nimble. My size allows me to slip in free spaces at the last second, right before the doors close. My ability to contort and bend my 5’6” frame in odd positions makes it possible for me to squeeze into open places on the bus and subway previously thought, well, unsqueezeable.
Unfortunately, one morning, my special powers offered no help.
It was a freezing, windy, and snowy morning. Of course, every bus that pulled up was packed with people. Finally, after watching three buses go by, I made the decision that I would get on the next bus NO MATTER WHAT.
The bus pulled up. People pushed and cut line to get out of the cold. The stairwell was full, so I stepped back until it cleared. Suddenly, a woman barreled through the line and jumped on the stairwell right in front of me! The audacity! The nerve! Her rudeness overwhelmed me.
If she was getting on that bus, then I WAS TOO. I flattened myself against her coat and wiggled my body on that bus. I teetered on the edge of the last step and perilously clung to the handrail.
Then, something I NEVER anticipated happened. The bus driver CLOSED THE DOORS WITH ME IN BETWEEN THEM! He sandwiched, he smashed, me in the doors! Shocked, I yelped and fell out... a crumpled heap of winter clothes and schoolbooks. The driver, not too remorseful, mumbled that he didn’t see me. The door then slammed once again and the bus floored it down 116th street, leaving my bruised body and ego behind it on the sidewalk.
Unfortunately, one morning, my special powers offered no help.
It was a freezing, windy, and snowy morning. Of course, every bus that pulled up was packed with people. Finally, after watching three buses go by, I made the decision that I would get on the next bus NO MATTER WHAT.
The bus pulled up. People pushed and cut line to get out of the cold. The stairwell was full, so I stepped back until it cleared. Suddenly, a woman barreled through the line and jumped on the stairwell right in front of me! The audacity! The nerve! Her rudeness overwhelmed me.
If she was getting on that bus, then I WAS TOO. I flattened myself against her coat and wiggled my body on that bus. I teetered on the edge of the last step and perilously clung to the handrail.
Then, something I NEVER anticipated happened. The bus driver CLOSED THE DOORS WITH ME IN BETWEEN THEM! He sandwiched, he smashed, me in the doors! Shocked, I yelped and fell out... a crumpled heap of winter clothes and schoolbooks. The driver, not too remorseful, mumbled that he didn’t see me. The door then slammed once again and the bus floored it down 116th street, leaving my bruised body and ego behind it on the sidewalk.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Public Transportation III
A couple of months ago, I got “served” by an eighty-year-old grandma on the bus. I can only now write about the incident because it has taken me that long to get over it.
Supposedly, I bumped an older lady TWICE as I settled into my seat on the cross-town bus crowded with morning commuters. I can’t quite say whether it was me that made it hard for her to apply makeup on the bus or maybe, just maybe, it was the bus driver who swerved through traffic at 40 miles per hour and hit crater sized potholes every few feet.
I CAN say that she felt justified enough to loudly berate me in front of a busload of people just waiting for the little blonde with the bouncy ponytail and pink shoes to go down.
I managed to keep my cool, thanks to breathing exercises and happy thoughts.
Only in New York would a grandma cuss me out at 7:30am in morning.
Supposedly, I bumped an older lady TWICE as I settled into my seat on the cross-town bus crowded with morning commuters. I can’t quite say whether it was me that made it hard for her to apply makeup on the bus or maybe, just maybe, it was the bus driver who swerved through traffic at 40 miles per hour and hit crater sized potholes every few feet.
I CAN say that she felt justified enough to loudly berate me in front of a busload of people just waiting for the little blonde with the bouncy ponytail and pink shoes to go down.
I managed to keep my cool, thanks to breathing exercises and happy thoughts.
Only in New York would a grandma cuss me out at 7:30am in morning.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Public Transportation II
Public transportation can be hazardous to one’s health and sanity.
This week, two stories will highlight times that I almost died from embarrassment and from a near fatal accident (ok, not really, but almost).
This week, two stories will highlight times that I almost died from embarrassment and from a near fatal accident (ok, not really, but almost).
Monday, January 19, 2009
Public Transportation I
Ben enjoyed a few minutes of quiet time on the 96th crosstown bus one Sunday morning. Our normal bus experience tends to be the opposite.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Jealous?
Ben just returned from a week long business trip to a suburb outside of Houston. While in Houston, he emailed this picture from his iPhone with the caption, "Jealous yet?" Unique and independent restaurants are great, but every so often, chains sound soooo good and comforting.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
New Yorkish Things
Certain things make me feel like a New Yorker, a true inhabitant of the Big Apple. Here's a short list:
Ordering Chinese, Italian, Cantonese, Asian Fusion, sushi, Vietnamese, and/or Greek food whenever we want AND getting it delivered by a guy who risked his life cycling it through Manhattan.
Taking multiple modes of public transportation to get… anywhere. I take the subway and the bus a total of five times a day. Ben takes the subway and the Long Island Railroad four times a day –just to clock in and out before dinner.
Yelling at cabbies when they assume we’re tourists and drive through Times Square.
Shaking my fist at cabbies when they cross three lanes of traffic to avoid driving us to the airport. We learned, and now hide our suitcases behind parked cars until they pull over.
Going to the grocery store multiple times a week. We only buy what we can carry, so no Super Wal-Mart moments of leaving with four carts and a full trunk.
Walking to the hardware store for nails, the grocery for food, the stationary store for cards, the bank for money,and Duane Reade for everything else – there is no one-stop shopping without Wal-Mart.
Writing checks for an exorbitant amount of money each month to live in a space the size of my old walk-in closet.
Ever-growing cockroaches. They, not Bloomberg, run the city.
Eating desserts and sweets all the time from bakeries that dot every block. Each showcase tantalizing treats in the windows that just beg to be eaten.
Knowing only a handful of people in the city, but randomly running into them on the subway or in Midtown. What are the odds?
Having the neighboring buildings so close I ALMOST feel like I know my neighbors.
Realizing that I never need half of what we have. With (very) limited space, we only buy what we need. Every item has a place and every place is very small. Adding more “stuff” only upsets the balance. Now, I only buy what I love.
Ordering Chinese, Italian, Cantonese, Asian Fusion, sushi, Vietnamese, and/or Greek food whenever we want AND getting it delivered by a guy who risked his life cycling it through Manhattan.
Taking multiple modes of public transportation to get… anywhere. I take the subway and the bus a total of five times a day. Ben takes the subway and the Long Island Railroad four times a day –just to clock in and out before dinner.
Yelling at cabbies when they assume we’re tourists and drive through Times Square.
Shaking my fist at cabbies when they cross three lanes of traffic to avoid driving us to the airport. We learned, and now hide our suitcases behind parked cars until they pull over.
Going to the grocery store multiple times a week. We only buy what we can carry, so no Super Wal-Mart moments of leaving with four carts and a full trunk.
Walking to the hardware store for nails, the grocery for food, the stationary store for cards, the bank for money,and Duane Reade for everything else – there is no one-stop shopping without Wal-Mart.
Writing checks for an exorbitant amount of money each month to live in a space the size of my old walk-in closet.
Ever-growing cockroaches. They, not Bloomberg, run the city.
Eating desserts and sweets all the time from bakeries that dot every block. Each showcase tantalizing treats in the windows that just beg to be eaten.
Knowing only a handful of people in the city, but randomly running into them on the subway or in Midtown. What are the odds?
Having the neighboring buildings so close I ALMOST feel like I know my neighbors.
Realizing that I never need half of what we have. With (very) limited space, we only buy what we need. Every item has a place and every place is very small. Adding more “stuff” only upsets the balance. Now, I only buy what I love.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Monday, January 5, 2009
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Recap
Whew... tomorrow means a return to a routine - setting an alarm, going to work, and getting stuff done. The past two weeks have been a blur of airplanes, family gatherings, unpacking leftover boxes from moving, girlfriends visiting, and New Year's Eve celebrations. We are exhausted, but both relieved and happy about how well everything went.
Hopefully, everyone enjoyed the holidays and seeing loved ones. Luckily for my readers, Santa still delivers... new blog posts this week! Itty Bitty is back on schedule. Enjoy!
Hopefully, everyone enjoyed the holidays and seeing loved ones. Luckily for my readers, Santa still delivers... new blog posts this week! Itty Bitty is back on schedule. Enjoy!
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