Join the Club

Ben and I babysat for a friend's six month old baby a couple of weekends ago. And, yes, both we and the baby survived just fine. Thank you very much.

We played with the baby. We fed him sweet potatoes. We tried to give him milk, which he didn't really like since we never warmed it. Oops. Future parenting tip number one.

We took the baby for a walk in Central Park to get out of the apartment and enjoy the nice weather. We commented to one another how we were on our way to be very good pseudo-faux-parents.

As we walked down the sidewalk and through the park, we noticed something.

We unintentionally joined "the club", a secret unofficial organization that I never knew existed until toting around a baby. We were granted access into the "mommy and daddy club". Apparently, one of membership requirements included pushing a carriage down the street and, in our case, posing as parents.

Nannies nodded their heads when we passed, and moms assessed my post-baby bod. Dads glanced sideways to size up the brand, model, and swivel capabilities of our stroller. Totally new.

People moved out of the way for us and most of them smiled as they passed. I got looks that said "how sweet" and "so cute" as Ben and I strolled arm-in-arm and pushed the stroller. Also, totally new... and, totally awesome.

I began to think of all of the possibilities that the mom and dad club offered - seats on crowded subways and buses, getting whisked to first in line for the bathroom, 'oohs' and 'aahs' all day long from strangers. A baby could really help me out in the city.

But, like most things, babysitting the sweetest little guy was nice for one day. But, everyday and all day? We're not quite there yet. Luckily, our membership to the club wasn't revoked, per se, just put on hold for the next couple of years. And, that's totally fine with me.

We'll just stick to babysitting for now.

Saturday in the Park

On Saturday, I snapped a few pics of my girlfriend and her dog, Ella. Luckily, I had beautiful weather AND models. My job was made easy.

Melissa needed pictures with Ella because her online dog boutique, Licks and Giggles, will be featured in the fashion section of the online magazine Cincy Chic. The Cincinnati Enquirer sponsors Cincy Chic, and the article should be available on April 5th at www.cincychic.com.

Here are a few pics from the day.

Bleed Blue

I rode the subway home from work last week, dazed and tired from a long day. I looked up from my iPod just in time to catch a glimpse of Kentucky blue amid the sea of black. I stretched my neck to confirm that someone was indeed wearing a UK Wildcats hat. As I exited the car, I stopped in front of him and yelled, “I love your hat!”

The guy shouted back, “Oh, yeah? But, do you like John Wall?”

Uh, duh.

“I love him!”

I further proved my loyalty to the best team in the SEC. I dropped my bags and did the John Wall dance in the middle of the subway station. Yes, I did that.

The man and one other random straphanger cheered. They continued to cheer as the doors closed and the subway shot down the tunnel. I then finished my dance and continued on my way.

Kentuckians bleed blue no matter where they are.

Second Sighting

On Sunday, my girlfriend and I ate at Kefi on the Upper West Side for dinner. We chatted about work and the weekend when Anna's jaw suddenly dropped mid-conversation. Her eyes widened as she tried to remain calm.

"No way!" She excitedly whispered. "It's Tina Fey!"

I whipped around just in time to catch a glimpse of Tina as she scooted by our table.

"Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed, barely stopping myself from reaching out to touch the hem of her jacket. Tina Fey was just inches from our table! Then it hit me.

That was the second time I had run into her on the Upper West Side. She lives in the neighborhood, but the odds that we would run into each other again seemed too great. Was she... no, that would be weird. But...

I was at Kefi first. Just like I was at the grocery store before her on the night of our first encounter. Wait a minute.

Is she stalking me? Tina, I'm on to you.

Skyline

I took this picture on a bridge in Central Park as I faced the West Side. The city looked calm, a welcome change from the previous weeks blizzards and bad weather. Hints of spring got many New Yorkers and visitors to enjoy a little time outside. It was like the whole city took a deep breath and relaxed.

Jury Duty

On Thursday and Friday, I reported to 71 Thomas Street for jury duty. They tracked me down after only 2 ½ years of living in New York. They are good.

I anticipated two long and boring days, but was pleasantly surprised. People had misled me with negative comments. Jury duty rocked!

I finished a bunch of reports for work. I utilized the free Wi-Fi and caught up on celebrity gossip. I stalked a few people on Facebook. I edited photos on my laptop. And, most importantly, I made a new friend, Johanna, who happens to live on my street but on the other side of Central Park. Johanna and I really bonded – not hard to do when surrounded by strangers and sitting less than five inches apart for six hours straight.

On Thursday, in the first hour, a clerk called about 30 or 40 names. A panel of lawyers emerged from the back room to interview those people for juror selection. Luckily, neither Johanna nor I were called.

We couldn’t help but be superstitious. Every time a lawyer or judge walked by, I’d hold my breath or look at the ceiling or freeze my body. Since I did that the last time they walked by and I didn’t get picked, I should surely do it again to keep from getting selected. Completely logical.

I guess our tactics worked because neither of us got picked. Instead, I got to enjoy a nice and relaxing day. Got a bunch of work done. Met cool people. Made a new friend.

Let’s just say that I won’t be too disappointed if called back in six years.

Central Park on a Sunday

A group of us enjoyed the nice weather this past weekend with a stroll through Central Park (after a two hour brunch, naturally). Warm, sunny days remind me again why I like New York so much. Fresh-ish air, cool breezes off the Hudson, and blue skies dotted with airplanes flying in and out of the surrounding airports. Ahh, spring is coming.

View From The Top

This is the view from our fifth floor apartment of the snow storm last week.

I took this picture after I woke up late and didn't bother to brush my hair or teeth until the afternoon. I poked my head out of the window to get this picture, eliciting a few catcalls and one "clean yourself up, girl" from the men working at the car garage across the street.

It snowed about 12 inches by the next morning.

Happy Face

There’s a weird phenomenon happening in NYC that I don't understand. I may have written about this before, but I’m doing it again. Random strangers in New York City constantly feel compelled to comment on my state of being.

A construction worker on the subway once asked why I looked so unhappy at 7am on a Monday morning. Some guy on a bus packed with loud teenagers tapped on my shoulder to ask why I looked so annoyed. And, the other day, a lady stopped me on the sidewalk and said, “Why so glum?” as I walked out of the doctor’s office.

1) My facial expressions aren't anybody’s business. I’m pretty certain that I didn’t ask for their opinion. And, if I didn't look like I was in a good mood before, I definitely don't look like it now.

2) Why would a stranger (that I will never see again) care if I were in a bad mood? And, don’t say it’s because they’re genuinely concerned. Puh-leez. I’m in a good mood 90% of the time, so I attribute this mistakenly interpreted “sourpuss” face to the fact that I am probably deep in thought the moment they decide to brazenly comment.

3) If something is wrong, do they really want to know? I doubt it. But, hey, if they’re willing to listen (for free) then I'm ready.

4) This is NEW YORK CITY! I had probably just been:

1. Elbowed by a disgruntled commuter
2. Sideswiped by a kid’s backpack
3. Cussed out by a grandma
4. Cut off by a speeding car
5. Pooped on by a pigeon (not uncommon)

My gloomy face can be caused by a number of reasons! Or, better yet, maybe that’s just my face, New York. Have you considered that? Maybe my wrinkled-forehead-pursed-lips-squinted-eyes sourpuss expression that sometimes masks my normally cheery face is just the way I look.

Humpf.