"Can you buy it at a department store?"
"Yes."
"Is it something you obsess about?"
"No."
"Well, that eliminates anything decorative like pillows or curtains."
"Why?!"
"What? Were you thinking curtains? Because you're psycho about decorating!"
"Yes I was thinking curtains but I'm not obsessed with them!"
"Yes you are."
"Whatever. So who won that round?"
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Monday, September 17, 2007
Things I Learned in New York City
1. Don't bother saying "Excuse me." The natives don't care and the foreigners can't understand.
2. In a cafe full of construction workers it is every man for himself. The fastest road to breakfast is with a loud voice and pointy elbows.
3. Russian women are most entertaining when trying on shoes without a mirror. They will grunt, stomp their size 11 Gucci heels, and exclaim "I cunt see enyting!"
4. Don't Eat the Nuts! You have no idea whose hands have been in there.
5. Forget trying on shoes; the oversized benches in the middle of Century 21 are best for looking studiously aloof while beginning your "Things I Learned in New York City" list.
6. Subways are quite possibly the coolest thing in the world, but understanding how to get from Point A to Point B is an art form all its own.
7. Movies give cab drivers a bad rap. I mean, our driver only narrowly missed three pedestrians and half a dozen stationary objects.
8. I know how ants feel.
9. New Yorkers do not care if you've only had two hours of sleep. You better keep moving.
10. The Empire State Building is magnificent, but the elevator ride back down is a doozy.
11. I wish I could have seen the World Trade Center.
12. The vendors in Chinatown are only trying to sell you knock-off designer handbags and perfumes, but the monotone advertisement they whisper in your ear as you walk by somehow feels threatening.
13. My new record is standing through 5 subway stops without falling on my ass.
14. If your companion asks if you would like to share a sandwich while having dinner at a deli say Yes. That is too much food for only one person to consume.
15. I keep saying I could never live there, but it's only two days later and I'm already itching to go back.
2. In a cafe full of construction workers it is every man for himself. The fastest road to breakfast is with a loud voice and pointy elbows.
3. Russian women are most entertaining when trying on shoes without a mirror. They will grunt, stomp their size 11 Gucci heels, and exclaim "I cunt see enyting!"
4. Don't Eat the Nuts! You have no idea whose hands have been in there.
5. Forget trying on shoes; the oversized benches in the middle of Century 21 are best for looking studiously aloof while beginning your "Things I Learned in New York City" list.
6. Subways are quite possibly the coolest thing in the world, but understanding how to get from Point A to Point B is an art form all its own.
7. Movies give cab drivers a bad rap. I mean, our driver only narrowly missed three pedestrians and half a dozen stationary objects.
8. I know how ants feel.
9. New Yorkers do not care if you've only had two hours of sleep. You better keep moving.
10. The Empire State Building is magnificent, but the elevator ride back down is a doozy.
11. I wish I could have seen the World Trade Center.
12. The vendors in Chinatown are only trying to sell you knock-off designer handbags and perfumes, but the monotone advertisement they whisper in your ear as you walk by somehow feels threatening.
13. My new record is standing through 5 subway stops without falling on my ass.
14. If your companion asks if you would like to share a sandwich while having dinner at a deli say Yes. That is too much food for only one person to consume.
15. I keep saying I could never live there, but it's only two days later and I'm already itching to go back.
Didn't Everyone Love Felicity?
"We should go to Dean and DeLuca!"
"What's Dean and DeLuca?"
"It's a great coffee house. You'll love it!"
"O.K. Wait! Isn't that where Felicity worked?"
"Who's Felicity?"
"She was a character... Oh. Nevermind."
"What's Dean and DeLuca?"
"It's a great coffee house. You'll love it!"
"O.K. Wait! Isn't that where Felicity worked?"
"Who's Felicity?"
"She was a character... Oh. Nevermind."
Friday, September 14, 2007
Empire State Building, Anyone?
I work two exits south of Cleveland Hopkins Airport on Interstate 71, and if I'm feeling particularly frustrated at work I'll head out to the lawn behind our office building and wait for an airplane to pass over, sometimes arriving and sometimes departing, but always doing something that I've never done--flying.
I tracked Jon's flight for most of the day, hitting refresh on the Continental Airlines site every 30 minutes or so, trying to reaffirm that last years debacle wouldn't reoccur with his flight coming in 10 hours late. To my surprise they left 5 minutes early, and then I continued to watch as he flew over Colorado, Nebraska, Iowa, Indiana, and finally neared Cleveland. At 15 minutes to their estimated arrival time I went outback and waited, and wouldn't you know, a plane came flying overhead, low enough for me to see and hear it loud and clear, and then it swung out far to the East, making a large U-turn for landing at the airport, then disappeared behind some trees. I waited a few minutes and then went back inside to refresh the webpage one last time, and found the status had upgraded to Landed, Taxiing to the Gate. I was a little doubtful, but mostly convinced that my husband had just flown over my head.
Tonight I leave for New York but I'm not flying, rather I'm headed out on a long coach bus ride. I have a few things left to do yet:
1. Scuff up my two week old sneakers.
I'm headed out on this very exciting trip to New York City and all I can think about is an article I read on Gawker.com last summer. They accused Mid-Western tourists of continuously wearing ugly shoes. And while I can say that my sneakers are not bright, white Reeboks or even clunky, plastic Crocs, they aren't roach killer Manolos or sporty, uncomfortable Sketchers either. No, my shoes are white and green KSwiss that I picked out specifically for this trip and with the Gawker blog in mind. I felt they were comfortable yet fashionable, but perhaps they could use a little more dirt to make them look worn-in.
2. Change purses and wallets.
We all know I'm notorious for leaving my purse behind (see that time I left it in a shopping cart at the grocery store), but I've always been fortunate enough to get it back. Something tells me I won't be so lucky in New York, and so I'm moving everything from my little leather handbag to a somewhat larger, almost-messenger-bag-type-thing. I figure this way I can always wear it around my neck and across my chest and not have to worry about setting it down. Not to mention I can fit an umbrella and camera along with the other necessities. I figure so long as I'm not wearing a fanny pack I'll be just dandy.
3. Dump the pictures from Vegas.
You can tell Jon was a little intoxicated on the night he opted to roam around Vegas and capture a few shots. Most of the pictures are just colorful blurs of lights or photos of the fountains after the water had done all of the intricate acrobatics. Of course, my favorites are the pictures of Mexican men who stalked up and down The Strip passing out fliers with a photo of a very sexy woman, promising a good time if you call this number. Anyway, I have to clear the photo card of colorful Las Vegas and make room for what looks to be a cold and wet, but very, very large New York City.
4. Fill out my permission slip.
It's actually what the bus company has dubbed a Get To Know You Card, but could have been more accurately named an Emergency Contact Form. I have to provide them with my husband's phone numbers and my mother's contact information and answer a few personal questions about myself. I have a bad feeling that they will formally introduce me on the bus, which I'm not looking forward to, but at least they will know who to call should I try to jump out the window.
5. Pack and prepare.
The nice thing about a weekend trip is there isn't much packing involved, but there are a few odds and ends that I have to bring along like the aforementioned camera and umbrella, some snacks and drinks for the ride there, and a travel tooth brush. I'm sure I'm missing something and I'll take this down to the wire like always, but I'm really trying not to stress about it. After this weekend I will finally know what the big deal is about New York, and can decide once and for all if the Big City Life is for me or if I really am just a country bumpkin.
I tracked Jon's flight for most of the day, hitting refresh on the Continental Airlines site every 30 minutes or so, trying to reaffirm that last years debacle wouldn't reoccur with his flight coming in 10 hours late. To my surprise they left 5 minutes early, and then I continued to watch as he flew over Colorado, Nebraska, Iowa, Indiana, and finally neared Cleveland. At 15 minutes to their estimated arrival time I went outback and waited, and wouldn't you know, a plane came flying overhead, low enough for me to see and hear it loud and clear, and then it swung out far to the East, making a large U-turn for landing at the airport, then disappeared behind some trees. I waited a few minutes and then went back inside to refresh the webpage one last time, and found the status had upgraded to Landed, Taxiing to the Gate. I was a little doubtful, but mostly convinced that my husband had just flown over my head.
Tonight I leave for New York but I'm not flying, rather I'm headed out on a long coach bus ride. I have a few things left to do yet:
1. Scuff up my two week old sneakers.
I'm headed out on this very exciting trip to New York City and all I can think about is an article I read on Gawker.com last summer. They accused Mid-Western tourists of continuously wearing ugly shoes. And while I can say that my sneakers are not bright, white Reeboks or even clunky, plastic Crocs, they aren't roach killer Manolos or sporty, uncomfortable Sketchers either. No, my shoes are white and green KSwiss that I picked out specifically for this trip and with the Gawker blog in mind. I felt they were comfortable yet fashionable, but perhaps they could use a little more dirt to make them look worn-in.
2. Change purses and wallets.
We all know I'm notorious for leaving my purse behind (see that time I left it in a shopping cart at the grocery store), but I've always been fortunate enough to get it back. Something tells me I won't be so lucky in New York, and so I'm moving everything from my little leather handbag to a somewhat larger, almost-messenger-bag-type-thing. I figure this way I can always wear it around my neck and across my chest and not have to worry about setting it down. Not to mention I can fit an umbrella and camera along with the other necessities. I figure so long as I'm not wearing a fanny pack I'll be just dandy.
3. Dump the pictures from Vegas.
You can tell Jon was a little intoxicated on the night he opted to roam around Vegas and capture a few shots. Most of the pictures are just colorful blurs of lights or photos of the fountains after the water had done all of the intricate acrobatics. Of course, my favorites are the pictures of Mexican men who stalked up and down The Strip passing out fliers with a photo of a very sexy woman, promising a good time if you call this number. Anyway, I have to clear the photo card of colorful Las Vegas and make room for what looks to be a cold and wet, but very, very large New York City.
4. Fill out my permission slip.
It's actually what the bus company has dubbed a Get To Know You Card, but could have been more accurately named an Emergency Contact Form. I have to provide them with my husband's phone numbers and my mother's contact information and answer a few personal questions about myself. I have a bad feeling that they will formally introduce me on the bus, which I'm not looking forward to, but at least they will know who to call should I try to jump out the window.
5. Pack and prepare.
The nice thing about a weekend trip is there isn't much packing involved, but there are a few odds and ends that I have to bring along like the aforementioned camera and umbrella, some snacks and drinks for the ride there, and a travel tooth brush. I'm sure I'm missing something and I'll take this down to the wire like always, but I'm really trying not to stress about it. After this weekend I will finally know what the big deal is about New York, and can decide once and for all if the Big City Life is for me or if I really am just a country bumpkin.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
A Little Give and Take
The Good News: After a short meeting with my Dad I am back on the internet! Apparently I unplugged and re-plugged everything but the power to the modem. Duh.
The Bad News: It was at the expense of a burnt-out headlight on the car, seeing as I had to touch/drive it to my parent's house for the meeting with my Dad.
Is there such a thing as the Un-Midas touch? Because I think I'm infected.
The Bad News: It was at the expense of a burnt-out headlight on the car, seeing as I had to touch/drive it to my parent's house for the meeting with my Dad.
Is there such a thing as the Un-Midas touch? Because I think I'm infected.
Destructive Behavior
In my last phone conversation with Jon I very calmly informed him that when I get home from work today I am going to do nothing but sit on the front stoop. This understandably confused him until I explained that it is the only safe place for me. It is the only place lacking something for me to break.
It all started on Monday with the Internet connection. As recently as this morning the small icon located in the bottom right-hand corner of the monitor indicated that we have a good signal coming from the wireless router, but try as I might, Internet Explorer won't recognize it and is accusing me of not being connected. I've unplugged and re-plugged everything, I've set the system back two days, I've done everything short of calling our cable/internet provider (I know I should do this, but I also know I'll come off as a total ditz), but it just doesn't work. Add to it that I didn't know what I was doing when I set the system back to September 9 and I lost my 114,145 words/156 pages Word document in which I had invested two days and too much blood, sweat, and tears to count. I did manage to figure out how to restore the system to the current date to recover the hours of painstaking work, but any damage done thereafter has gone unrecognized and I'm sure Jon will find it when he returns.
As if going a week without the Internet at home wasn't bad enough, in the last three days I have also managed to destroy two remotes, a television, and a DVD player just with my touch. I swear to you I have not thrown, stomped on, or beaten a single thing. They just don't like me. I have a sinking suspicion that karma is messing with me, a practical joke of sorts, because why else would only the items that I haven't the slightest clue of how to operate, except on a very basic level, be malfunctioning while my husband isn't around to fix it? And isn't it ironic that they are also my main sources of entertainment for while I'm alone?
And so, to be on the safe side, I'll be making a night of the front stoop where I'm far away from the circuit breakers and the water heaters and, God forbid, the yellow Mitsubishi Lancer parked in the garage.
It all started on Monday with the Internet connection. As recently as this morning the small icon located in the bottom right-hand corner of the monitor indicated that we have a good signal coming from the wireless router, but try as I might, Internet Explorer won't recognize it and is accusing me of not being connected. I've unplugged and re-plugged everything, I've set the system back two days, I've done everything short of calling our cable/internet provider (I know I should do this, but I also know I'll come off as a total ditz), but it just doesn't work. Add to it that I didn't know what I was doing when I set the system back to September 9 and I lost my 114,145 words/156 pages Word document in which I had invested two days and too much blood, sweat, and tears to count. I did manage to figure out how to restore the system to the current date to recover the hours of painstaking work, but any damage done thereafter has gone unrecognized and I'm sure Jon will find it when he returns.
As if going a week without the Internet at home wasn't bad enough, in the last three days I have also managed to destroy two remotes, a television, and a DVD player just with my touch. I swear to you I have not thrown, stomped on, or beaten a single thing. They just don't like me. I have a sinking suspicion that karma is messing with me, a practical joke of sorts, because why else would only the items that I haven't the slightest clue of how to operate, except on a very basic level, be malfunctioning while my husband isn't around to fix it? And isn't it ironic that they are also my main sources of entertainment for while I'm alone?
And so, to be on the safe side, I'll be making a night of the front stoop where I'm far away from the circuit breakers and the water heaters and, God forbid, the yellow Mitsubishi Lancer parked in the garage.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Isaiah
I never took the time to mention that my little sister had her baby two weeks ago. Isaiah, my newest nephew, arrived on August 28 with big, brown eyes, feet the size of a toddler's, and hands almost large enough to cover his entire face. He was only 6 pounds, 11 ounces.
I'm still debating over whether he actually is the cutest baby I've ever seen or if I just want one so much that all newborns have stopped looking like creepy old men and now appear to be adorable little gnome children. He's so alert and curious, he loves to cuddle, and he seems to likes me. This is how I know I'm bias. I'll favor any baby that doesn't cry when I hold it.
My sister is doing well. She made labor and delivery look so easy it's disgusting, and Isaiah couldn't behave better for her, because he came home sleeping through each night and even most of the day. It seems she's maturing with each day as a mother, and she couldn't be more in love with her son. Her days of self-gratification and capriciousness appear to have ended and she is more than happy to fill her days with feedings and sleep schedules, and talking to a little boy who can't quite respond yet. She's so comfortable doing all of this that she looks like a professional, like she's been changing diapers and interpreting cries for years. She baffles and amazes me, and her actions and reactions have convinced me that I could do it, too.
I'm still debating over whether he actually is the cutest baby I've ever seen or if I just want one so much that all newborns have stopped looking like creepy old men and now appear to be adorable little gnome children. He's so alert and curious, he loves to cuddle, and he seems to likes me. This is how I know I'm bias. I'll favor any baby that doesn't cry when I hold it.
My sister is doing well. She made labor and delivery look so easy it's disgusting, and Isaiah couldn't behave better for her, because he came home sleeping through each night and even most of the day. It seems she's maturing with each day as a mother, and she couldn't be more in love with her son. Her days of self-gratification and capriciousness appear to have ended and she is more than happy to fill her days with feedings and sleep schedules, and talking to a little boy who can't quite respond yet. She's so comfortable doing all of this that she looks like a professional, like she's been changing diapers and interpreting cries for years. She baffles and amazes me, and her actions and reactions have convinced me that I could do it, too.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)