Boom Boom

Sometimes, I experience very “New York” moments.  They’re just crazy, weird, or totally random moments.  Things that would and could only happen here.  

A girlfriend and I went to the Boom Boom Room, a bar in The Standard Hotel on the 18^th floor in the Meatpacking District.  I know, I know.  What a name.

The coolest thing about the place was that the walls were floor-to-ceiling windows, so the view of Manhattan was incredible.  Even the bathroom walls were glass!  Thankfully, the bathroom was high enough up that no one got an unwanted eyeful of… well, you know.  But, I couldn’t help wonder about the few weirdoes out there with binoculars and easy access to You Tube.  Oh well, too late now.

I snapped a picture of the view from the bathroom with my iPhone.  Only in New York City could you sip a $20 (yes, you read that correctly) martini and enjoy that view.  Very New York.

* Someone informed me, after our visit to the Boom Boom Room, that supposedly women from Russia like to frequent the Boom Boom Room because they find “rich” husbands there.  I can only imagine how many times we were mistaken for being on the prowl. Grrr.

We Heart Italians

My great aunt had never met Ben.  She and my great uncle were unable to travel to our wedding because of their age and health.  So, our visit to Texas was Ben's big unveiling.

Last Saturday morning, around 9:30am, we rang the doorbell at her house.  My great aunt shuffled to the door and warmly invited us in her home.

She and my parents exchanged hugs.  Then I hugged her and introduced Ben.  The top of her white hair barely brushed his shoulder.  She stepped back slowly to look him over.

"You know..." She said, with wink in her eye and a deadpan look on her face, "I've always had a thing for Italians."

Please, God, let me be that awesome when I'm 90 years old.

More Room

Ben and I stayed in a hotel the first night we got to Texas.  Our plane landed really late, and we didn't want to show up at my great aunt's house in the wee hours of the morning.  So, we schlepped over to the Red Roof Inn around 1:30 in the morning.

Our love for Texas grew tremendously when we opened the door to our hotel room and saw TWO full size beds.  In NYC, we share one full size bed.  A pretty tight squeeze at times.

Imagine our joy!  We immediately sensed a good night's sleep was upon us.  Our excitement continued to grow.

I threw my bag down and leapt into one bed while Ben dove onto the other.  We giggled and kicked the covers into the air.  Our own beds!  It was a dream come true.

There was so much room, so many beds.  Ah, we loved it.

Don't get me wrong.  I love to sleep in the same bed with my husband and vice versa.  But, when the opportunity to sleep uninhibited comes around - stretch out, sleep diagonal, lay like a starfish, and roll up in the covers like a burrito - we're gonna take it.

Differences

Ben and I went to Texas this past weekend to visit friends and family.  On Thursday night, I carefully packed my duffel bag so that my morning would be as stress free as possible.  Smart, I thought.

Except, Ben didn’t think the morning through like me.

I woke up before my alarm to ensure that I had extra time for any last minute adjustments to my bag.  I roused Ben pretty early because I had noticed that his half-empty bag was still sitting in the middle of the room.  He shrugged me off.

While Ben slept late, I prepped the apartment for our vacation.  I bagged the trash and put the dishes away.  I heard Ben’s alarm go off as I shoved loose food into the fridge.  About two seconds later, I heard the panicked patter of feet running across the hardwood floor.

From there I was basically…

Kicked out of the bathroom for 15 minutes.  Run over at least twice in his frenzy to pack clothes.  And, then forced to pack some of his stuff in my bag.

While frantically throwing things and running around, Ben managed to yell every few minutes, “Where’s a plastic bag for my toiletries?  Where are clean socks?  Do I need a razor to shave?  Heeeeeeeeelp me!” 

Because, that was exactly how I planned to spend my extra few minutes.   

But, I kept my mouth shut.  Didn’t say anything, even though I wanted to.  Wanted to say something like… “Shouldn’t you have taken care of this last night?” 

But, I didn’t. 

Instead, I was very, oh-so helpful.  I was such a good wife, such a good wife.  I let Ben run out of the door that morning… and then wrote this blog post for my revenge!

Birthday Party

Several weekends ago, we celebrated the birthday of our friends' son. He turned one... meaning he celebrated b-i-g.  I totally caught him pounding a bottle of baby formula and partying past nap time.  

Other tiny revelers in attendance also enjoyed the nice weather, good food, and company that Central Park offered on his special day. 

Perspectives: Part VIII

On Monday, I worked with a group of students on the rug in the back of the classroom.  We’ve developed a pretty good relationship over the past two years, and have gotten to know each other pretty well.  They always seem to enjoy stories about my small town, rural upbringing.

One of the boys pointed to me, completely unrelated to the assignment, and said, “She has an iPhone.”

“Really?” asked the other boy.

Although we were venturing off task, I decided to take the opportunity to teach an important life lesson.

“Yes, I worked really hard to save my money and buy it.  Now, my dad has one too.  We like to text each other to stay in touch.” I said, proud of my ability to slip in the importance of saving and using money wisely.

 “Wait,” the first boy said pretty surprised.  “Your dad has one, too?”

“Yes,” I replied, wanting to redirect his thinking back to financial awareness, but still confused by his shocked expression.  “Why is that so hard to believe?”

“I didn’t know country people had phones and could text!” he said.

Oh, city people have so much to learn about us.

Scenes From Home

My mom drove me around town to take pictures when I was home for spring break.  Our excursion was also an excuse for us to "girl talk" with NO men getting in the way or eavesdropping.  Here's a couple of photos from our photo shoot of the Kentucky countryside.

School Subjects

Yesterday, I walked down the hallway with two kindergarteners.  We clapped the syllables of words as we walked.  “El-e-phant… 3 syllables!”  “Hallway… 2 syllables!”

One boy kept dragging his hand along the wall. 

“Ms. Natalie will not be happy if you knock someone’s artwork off the wall,” I said.

The other little guy perked up and said, “Natalie?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Like Natalie from the Bad Girls Club?” he asked.

“You mean the wild TV show on Oxygen?” I asked, incredulously.

“Yeah,” he said.  "The Bad Girls Club."

It can takes weeks to learn new sounds or language concepts, but just one hour to learn something from cable television.  Amazing.

Milestone

Thank you to everyone who reads the blog!  This is my 300th post!  Hard to believe, I know.

I have come a long way since my first post on September 30, 2007.  I am NOW a real New Yorker with a New York state license, employed, married for almost three years, and, most importantly, still alive.  Thank goodness for the last one.

Life has turned out pretty, pretty good.

Thank you for checking out Itty Bitty and (hopefully) enjoying it.

Safety

People ask, “Is living in New York City scary?”

No.

Truthfully, it’s not.  Sometimes, I feel safer living in a city of 11.7 million people than living in a slightly less populated place.  Crazy, I know.

New York City feels safe for many reasons.  One, I live in an area of Manhattan that has lots of young people and families.  Those people tend to be pretty harmless. 

Two, the police are highly visible in the city.  They patrol the subways, the streets, touristy destinations – they’re everywhere.  I like that.  Supposedly, it was not like this before Giuliani, but now, thankfully, it is.

And, third, there are always so many people everywhere I go.  I probably pass thirty people just walking one block to the grocery store.  People in my apartment building, people on the sidewalk, people on the corner, people at the bus stop.  I pass several hundred in the morning on my way to work.

I can’t ever recall walking down the street and not passing or seeing someone.  It’s a comfort to know that.  Someone is always somewhere.

Just because I feel safe doesn’t mean that I ‘m stupid.  I take the same precautions here that I take at home.  I don’t walk alone late at night.  I avoid poorly lit areas.  I don’t take to strangers.  I don’t go to unfamiliar places.  I let people know where I am. 

I mean, duh, that’s just called common sense.

So, ultimately, when out-of-towners ask “Do you feel safe in New York?”  I can honestly answer… yes.

Sisters

Ben and I were very lucky several weekends ago... we got these two as guests for the weekend!  One of my best friends (and a former roommate) and her sister came to experience NYC firsthand.  Hopefully, they enjoyed the city and will be back soon for Round 2.

Dirty Little Secret

I know, I know. What I’m about to say is so unbelievably non-environmentally friendly that I can’t believe I’m going to publicly admit it. But, I am tired of hiding our dirty little secret. We need to come clean.

We use paper plates, paper bowls, AND paper cups.

We are horrible! As the former president of the “Save The Planet” club and a co-adopter of Nick the manatee in elementary school, I am ashamed. Just ashamed.

We do (sometimes) use real dishes, but it’s hard. We don’t have a dishwasher, a luxury in New York, and we only have a three foot area to cook, let dishes dry, and set stuff. Two dirty plates or a couple of glasses make the sink full and impossible to wash hands or even fit in more dishes.

We used real dishes for a long time, but the back-and-forth of whose turn it was to do them really started to tax our marriage. The bartering of who had to do them usually went of for so long that the dishes eventually overflowed the sink and made it an even less desirable chore.

We try to make up for increased paper usage in other ways - our paper products are biodegradable, we don't use paper towels, we recycle everything, we try to buy locally grown produce, our cleaning and body products are organic, we don't drive cars. Hopefully, those things make our carbon footprint just a little bit smaller.

For now, though, we deal with the shame and embarrassment and use paper. Not the most environmentally friendly choice, but definitely the most marriage friendly choice. And, right now, that’s most important.

Licks and Giggles

My girlfriend, Melissa, and her online dog boutique were featured in Cincy Chic on April 5, 2010. Check out the great article about Licks and Giggles using the link below and, just for fun, see who got the photo credit at the very end of the article. (Pretty exciting!)

http://cincychic.com/content/view/2546/1/

Different Angle

How Spiderman sees the Brooklyn Bridge.

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.