I might get in trouble for this . . .

For most of my life, I've been a big proponent of Israel. I mean, how could you side against a group of people who've been persecuted for centuries in all parts of the world, are currently surrounded by states who've publicly declared their intentions to destroy Israel, and live under the constant threat of suicide bombers? Heck, I even wrote a pro-Israel paper for my Asian Studies class (yes folks, the Middle East is part of Asia) in high school. However, a few days ago, an analogy popped into my head that I simply haven't been able to shake, and it's making me seriously reconsider some of my views:

Israelis are to Palestinians as Colonists were to Native Americans  

What do you think?

Catching Up

Whew. Work , work , work, work, work. i never thought I'd be one of those people who spent his whole life at work. In fact, I turned down a job offering 10% more in salary partly because I thought that the job would take up too much of my time. Good decision, huh? Anyway, I don't want to talk about work, so let's talk about . . . snow.

The city that never sleeps (how many cities claim that title?) got about 4,133,248 inches of snow over the past two days. Of course, the streets in Manhattan were cleared almost as quickly as the snow could hit the ground. However, those of us in the outer boroughs (two of which - Brooklyn and Queens - have more people than Manhattan) are left with snow-filled streets and shoddy subway service. Hopefully that means I won't have to go to work tomorrow (see, it consumes my life), but seeing as how I am technically "able" to get to the office, I'll probably have to go in anyway.

In other news, I've finally come up with a five-year plan. By 2010 (seems so far off doesn't it), I plan to be a licensed CPA, be rid of all my credit card debt and student loans, have an intermediate level of fluency in Spanish, and be admitted to a decent MBA program. I know plans have a tendency to change, but at least having something to shoot for makes it a little easier to roll out of bed oh so early in the morning.

Yep, so. . .that's about it. I guess there hasn't been that much going on. I'm afraid it might be this way till March, folks, so settle in. I'll try to post a little more frequently in the coming weeks. Till then!  

 Work, work, work

Jeebus. Sorry I haven't posted recently, but I've been working 14-hour days all this week. Hopefully I can pull out a little time this weekend to update you on all that's been going on! Check back this weekend!

Late-Night Ramblings

I have to work on Saturday and probably part of Sunday too. I miss my weekends. But since Colin is gone to Boston, I guess I don't have a reason to be at home anyway. *sigh* Maybe I should find a different job.

God hid those fossils there . . .

I'm a firm believer in evolution and natural selection. My own personal miracle notwithstanding (see previous post), and given both the fossil record and experiments conducted by scientists, I find the notion that humans, birds, fish, trees, and all other complex life on this earth showed up in their current forms, fully formed and almost perfectly-adapted, over the course of six days highly questionable. However, those of you who have read my 100 + Things section know that I also don't believe in presenting only one side of a contentious issue. That's why I think the ACLU and the courts are wrong on this one. The courts have ruled that stickers on a set of biology textbooks stating that "This textbook contains material on evolution. Evolution is a theory, not a fact, regarding the origin of living things. This material should be approached with an open mind, studied carefully and critically considered"  violate the Constitutional separation of church and state. Now, on the one hand, I can see the position of the court; the stickers were placed there by the Cobb County school board (a government entity) at the urging of religious parents who it is assumed are creationists. A government entity caving into pressure from religious groups is in fact a violation of the Constitutional separation of church and state. HOWEVER, I personally think that it is a much greater crime to remove the stickers because the textbook apparently presents evolution as a fact and does not mention any other theories on the origin of life. Though, as I said, I believe that evolution and natural selection are indeed things that actually occur, we have not and probably never will be able to prove conclusivley that they account for the origins of modern-day animal and plant life. Until we are able to prove that, it is wrong to exclude from consideration all other credible theories. Thus, the courts have harmed the future-users of these textbooks by presenting as fact something that that should be presented along with other theories and left open to the individual judgement of the reader. However, allowing the stickers to remain would have been wrong as well. So how do we fix the problem? 

My personal opinion is that the school board should remove the stickers from the textbooks, and then re-apply them, not under pressure from religious groups, but out of concern for the education of the students. What do you think?  

The Highway Slide

Though I think of myself as rather tame, I've experienced quite a few things in my life. Not that I always go seeking adventure, mind you. Sometimes, experiences just seem to find me. This was the case when Thursday, for the first time in my life, I experienced a miracle. No, I'm not crazy, and I've considered the possibility that I'm just being a little dramatic but, hey, we're all allowed to pull out our drama cards every once in a while.

As you may know, I began commuting to Connecticut this week, which required renting a car and driving about an hour each morning and evening. Except for getting lost on the way home (twice), the experience wasn't all that bad. That is, except for Thursday morning. I got out of the city with no problem; traffic was a bit heavy, but there were no major issues. The incident didn't happen until I got about 10 miles inside CT. I was just driving along, listening to a little music, eager to get to the office and work hard (ri-ight). As I crested a hill, the tail lights on the cars in front of me lit up a brilliant red and the cars came to an abrupt stop. So, I did what I always do in such a situation; I threw on my brakes too. I'm not sure if it was the speed with which I depressed the brake pedal or the slippery road conditions, but the next thing I knew, the car was headed into a spin. I gripped the steering wheel for dear life as the car skidded entirely sideways (the right side of my body now facing oncoming traffic), and headed straight across three lanes to the divider wall in the center of the highway. At the last moment, as I looked in horror at the group of cars bearing down quickly upon me and kissed my ass goodbye, the car jerked back to the left (attempting to right itself) and jumped back across the center lane and halfway into the outside lane, before I was finally able to bring it under control. Where's the miracle you ask? Not only am I still alive, but I didn't get hit! Not even a scratch! Admittedly, nobody walked across the East River or fed a whole stadium with a bag from McDonald's but still, I'm here!!! If that doesn't classify as at least a minor miracle, I don't know what does!

 Coming Soon

Jeebus, work has been outrageous these past couple of days. Check back tonight for:

      - The highway slide

      - God hid those fossils there . . .

The Above-Ground Life

Today I embarked on the first in a series of commutes to Connecticut. Given that it took me nearly an hour to get where I was going, and I couldn't read (as I have become so accustomed to doing on the subway) I had lots of time to think. And of course, because it was my first time driving in this little part of the world, I felt inclined to compare it to the one city where I drove almost constantly for three years; Atlanta. Drivers in the two cities seem to approach this most-generic of activities in two entirely different ways. For instance, New Yorkers actually use turn signals to switch lanes (although usually only after they've already moved halfway into the target lane). Of course this only applies to highway driving; for surface roads, it's every man for himself. There are, in fact a number of differences (though there are also some similarities). So here you have it; the Big Apple vs the city of Peaches (randomly arranged, just to make it more fun - see if you can guess which quote goes with which city).

1. On lanes . . . 

      "I'll stay out of yours if you stay out of mi. . .oh, who am I kidding?"

      "Oh, I was too busy talking on my cell phone to take notice of the double yellow lines. My bad."

2. On merging . . .

      "I'll try to merge, but if nobody will let me in, I'll just block the traffic behind me and wait for an opening."

      "Don't think I'd let something as silly as a car get in my way."

3. On obeying the speed limit . . .

      "Is that what those signs are for?"

      "I may drive like a maniac, but I'm keeping it below 70."

4. On tailgating . . .

      "There's a piece of lint on the back of your head."

      "I've got 12 lanes to use, but I'd rather hover around you until you decide to switch lanes."

5. On parking . . .

      "There's space on the sidewalk over there."

      "I can only take up one parking space?"

6. On horns . . .

       "The only time I use my horn is when somebody does something really stupid."

       "I wired my horn to the brakes."

7. On pedestrian crossing . . .

        "If people were meant to walk in the street, they'd have wheels and a V-6"

        "I'm not going to hit you, but I'm sure as hell not slowing down either."

8. On traffic lights . . .

        *Hooooooooooooooooooooooooooooonk*

        "That red one just functions like a 'Yield' sign."

I was trying to get to ten, but I honestly can't think of any others. I'll think about it while I'm driving on the ice tomorrow.

Addictive

Thanks to Chaos Digest for the link.

 Define "Sick"

After working 14-hour days last week, 8 hours on Saturday, and 5 hours on Sunday, I was feeling a bit tired today . . . so I called in sick. However, being the overachiever that I am (wait, does calling in sick for being 'tired' disqualify me as an overachiever), I still had grand plans for the day. I was going to do some much-needed grocery shopping (aside from condiments, beverages, and some rotten vegetables, there's nothing in our fridge but two eggs, a block of cheese, some tortillas, and a can of fruit that I opened sometime before Christmas in order to fish out the chunks of pineapple), clean up a little bit, and yes, even catch up on some miscellaneous things from work. That plan was made at 8:15am. It is now approximately 5:15pm, and I have done the following (in no particular order):

1. Slept (ostensibly, that's what I needed to do the most, but I only slept for about an hour)

2. Watched "Clueless" (on USA)

3. Considered cooking.

4. Decided against it, as that would have required walking to the grocery store (see above).

5. Looked online for a new job (not that I'm actually thinking of switching. It's just something I do every few weeks when I get frustrated)

5. Gotten directions to Greenwich, CT (where I'll be working tomorrow - joy)

6. Read a bit of "The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole" by Sue Townsend

7. Talked to Colin on the phone

8. Called my supervisor to assure her that I would be well enough to make it to CT tomorrow.

9. Tinkered with my 100+ Things section.

10. Read other people's blogs.

11. Considered going to the gym.

12. Decided against it because I was already sore.

13. Contemplated cooking dinner for Colin

14. Decided against it (see #4)

15. Resolved to tip the delivery-man extra.

Hmm, so depending on how you look at it, I did have a productive day. I didn't do a thing I set out to do, but I still managed a list of 15 activities. I should pat myself on the back. Oh, wait, that's 16!

Tonight I go to pick up a rental car from JFK and then tomorrow : my first time driving in New York City rush-hour traffic. Pray for me.

Que?

The longer I live in New York, the more I realize I need to learn at least one other language (German has not proven particularly useful). Not so that I can communicate, mind you; most people that I need to talk to do in fact speak English. I need to learn another language so that I can figure out what's so damn funny! I'm sure we've all had this experience:

You walk into a quiet store, and nod to the person behind the counter, who looks at you but doesn't respond. You procede to collect the items that you wish to purchase and bring them up to the counter. As the cashier is ringing you up, his/her co-worker comes up and stands close by. The cashier then smiles and says something in one of the hundreds of languges you don't understand and they both laugh uncontrollably. Both of them smirk at you ever so subtly, and go back to work. You stand there helplessly not knowing if the joke was at your expense. After a moment, you just pay for your purchases and leave the store, listening intently for any sign of a giggle as the door swings shut behind you.

Now, I know they may not necessarily be talking about me. Heck, there are lots of funny things in the world. But I find it incredibly odd that the best jokes seem only to be told when I get up to the register. So,here are the languages I think I need to learn to keep from becoming a paranoid hermit (or is it too late for that?);

1. Spanish (for the barbers at my neighborhood barbershop who chatter and laugh incessantly)

2. Manadarin (for the people at the Chinese restaurant around the corner)

3. WTF (for the guys at the bodega)

4. Arabic (for the cabbies who drive me home when I get out of work late. *sidebar: they don't laugh, but I'd like to be able to describe the location of my apartment and have them actually understand what I'm saying)

5. Dutch (for the guy at my office who's sense of humor only comes out when speaking on the phone in Dutch).

 Conclusion

As promised, here's a quick wrap-up to the LSJBT post

After catching a few hours of sleep and lazing around the house, Colin and I finally decided to get out of bed around 5:30 to go have dessert at a friend's house in Brooklyn Heights. His whole family was there (having had dinner there earlier in the day), along with a number of his other friends, some of whom we had met, most of whom we had not. The highlights of the evening:

1. The rasberry(?) cheesecake that he won't give us the recipe for.

2. One slightly drunk and very candid brother

3. One hilarious mother

4. The best champagne I ever had

5. A nice big glass of tequila.

Our night ended with a sleepy train-ride back to the apartment and some well-deserved (imho) rest. And that was my LSJBT. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!

**Significant Event:**

I finally have an About Me section. Check it out!

Pet Peeve #1: Elevator Squirrels

Having lived in New York for nearly half a year and thanks to the peculiar nature of my job, I have had the wonderful opportunity to work in a number of different high-rise office buildings. And in working in these buildings, I have witnessed a phenomena that they all have in common; the elevator squirrel. Every building has elevator squirrels. Yes, even yours. What is an elevator squirrel? Allow me to explain by way of an encounter I had yesterday morning.

On my current assignment, I work on the top floor of a 41-story building. As I waited in the lobby along with several other office types, I politely maneuvered so that I would be in a good position to quickly get into whichever elevator happened to arrive first. However, I hadn't counted on the elevator squirrels. There were three of them that morning. I didn't recognize them at first because they looked just like everyone else. However, with the tell-tale "ding dong" that signaled the arrival of an elevator, all three of them sprang into action. Clawing their way to the front of the queue, hardly giving the poor cart-weilding maintenance man time to get off, they scurried into the elevator, quickly pushed the buttons for their respective floors and moved directly to the back of the elevator. Not that I was terribly surprised; I've come to expect a little brusqeness from the inhabitants of my adopted city. Even after entering the elevator (somehow I ended up at the back of the line), I had not pegged the three as elevator squirrels. It was not until we stopped on the 26th floor - the very first floor that this particular elevator could stop at, and I heard a loud and slightly annoyed "getting off!" from the back of the elevator that I knew we had a squirrel on board. Having pushed everyone out of the way to be first on the elevator and race to the back, this person was now inconveniencing everyone by attempting to dig his way out of the elevator at the very first stop. If you knew you were getting off at the first stop, why the fuck did you go to the back!?!? The other two elevator squirrels got off together at the next stop, once again inconveniencing everyone as they pushed their way to the front of the elevator.

That my friends, is an elevator squirrel.

LSJBT

Like all politicians, I broke my campaign promise. I could just tell the truth by saying that I was too lazy to post, but assigning blame is always much more fun. So. . . my campaign promise was contigent on my candidate winning, and since Bush still has his over-tight puckered asshole buried in a chair at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave, all of my promises go out the window.

In any event, I did not return to my cozy web-nest for the purpose of bashing Bush, perversely pleasurable though it may be. No, no, I have a much more insidious purpose in mind; to talk about my holidays! And, since it's been such a long time, I must warn you that this will be a long entry. Please click "Escape" if you don't want to read about my LSJBT (life since just before Thanksgiving).

So, for those who remain, here's the LSJBT Recap:

Thanksgiving:

Colin and I ventured down to North Carolina to spend the holiday with my parents, brother, sister, and assorted other relatives. This was the first time I had returned home since moving to New York in July, and honestly, it hardly felt like I had been gone more than a couple of weeks. Of course, a number of things have changed; my parents bought a new cabinet for the den to house a new television which quite possibly weighs more than I do, the large dining table that never moved more than 3 inches during the previous 20 years somehow migrated to the living room, my bed and most of my personal effects are gone from my room (they're all here with me in Brooklyn), and a small forest of potted plants took over the window sill in the kitchen. However, even as I walked through the place that's been only my semi-permanent home for the past 6 years (I haven't "lived" there full-time since I was sixteen), all I could think was "it's nice to be back".

As usual, Colin and I were ushered into separate rooms (some of you already know my opinion on this, so I'll save my rant for another time), and spent the next three days laughing, gossiping, and making fun of eachother. Ah, good times. On Saturday, Colin and I drove to Rocky Mount to visit a friend from college. He was actually Colin's roommate during most of our first year together (Marc , who was Colin's roommate during our first month together forever has my gratitude for turning up the volume on the TV and not making a fuss about me trying to get into his roomie's britches). It was good to see him again, but I do believe he needs to get the h$%^#&@# (oh, shit, I coughed and hit all those random characters. What I meant to say was "hell") out of Rocky Mount. Small-town North Carolina is no place for a young gay man.

{Sidebar: I remembered this almost when I got to the end of the entry and considered not adding it, but I couldn't resist. Apparently, shortly before Thanksgiving, Colin told one of his co-workers that he was accompanying his boyfriend - that's me - to North Carolina. So, this bitch has the nerve to say, "Oh, so you guys are flying into DC, then?" Yeah, there couldn't possibly be any airports in North Carolina. Stupid bitch.}

Our trip ended the following morning with a short flight back to LaGuardia, a bumpy ride on the M60 (yes, I was too cheap to get a cab), a sprint on the Lexington Avenue Express, and a chug-a-lug on the Frankie Ave. shuttle to our de-luxe apartment in the sky-hy-hy. All in all, it was a good trip and a much-needed rest from the rigors of New York living.

December 20th - 23rd:

My friend James from high school and his boyfriend Matt (whom I had heard about, but had not met) paid a visit to the city and stayed with me and Colin. We took them to a couple of our favorite haunts (not that we have much in the way of haunts, being that we've only been here a few months) and played the part of hosts pretty well to our first multi-night guests. Unfortunately, their visit coincided with some of the coldest weather that New York has had since we moved, so the unrelenting gusts of wind combined with drafty windows and the nearly undetectable trickle of heat coming from the vents (honestly, we could have made more heat by farting) made for a couple of very uncomfortable nights. Our guests claimed that they were fine, but I wonder if that just might have been politeness. But then again, they did seem to delight in going outside without coats. . .

Christmas:

I skipped out on work a little early (okay, a whole day early) to take care of a few things on the 23rd before heading to North Carolina the following day. Given that I had already spent hours shopping and had come back with only a few gifts (for other people, anyway), I resolved that I would hit my new favorite store, swing by the Children's Place (for my siblings' kids), then come home and do a little work. Well, two out of three ain't bad. So after going out to dinner with Colin's cousin and her friend, and then exchanging gifts with Colin (he got me a really nice watch made all the more special by the fact that I had mentioned it only in passing a few months earlier and he remembered), I caught a few hours sleep and then hopped on a plane headed south the next morning.

When I got to my parents' house, it looked like the Evergreen stork had gone on strike and left all of his deliveries on their porch. There were two Christmas trees in the house (not unprecedented; there have been instances where they had one in the basement and one in the living room, but this is the first time that I've ever seen them in spitting distance of one another). There were also garlands on the mantles in both the den and the living room, a garland around every doorway, and a couple of wreaths strewn about the walls. Talk about being in the Christmas spirit! That night, I attended my parents' annual Christmas party, where I got slightly tipsy, and then retired for the evening. Christmas day brought presents and family bonding, and the rest of the trip home brought more of the same.

On Thursday, I took a short trip to Chapel Hill to have lunch with some old high school friends and stop in to see James' new apartment. Friday morning I said my goodbyes and boarded a plane back to New York, knowing that I would miss my family, but eager to get back to Brooklyn and de-pants my man from Trinidad.

New Years:

Immediately after getting back to New York, I unpacked, took a shower, and then met up with Colin to go to Times Square. Yes, yes, I know it's cliched, but we both decided we wanted to go watch the ball drop at least once while we were living in New York, and since the weather was nice, why not do it this year? So, we climbed onboard the subway and got to Times Square around 3:45. That, of course, was when all of the fun began. On our first attempt to enter the square, we encountered barricades and a police officer telling us to go further north (he quoted a street number, but I can't remember it now). So, we walked north. When we got to the specified cross-street, the message was the same; go further north. At 47th Street, there appeared to me a little more sense of order, so we waited there. The police soon began making announcements that they would be allowing people to enter Times Square via 47th, but would have to search everyone and no bags were allowed. Colin and I looked at eachother and at the bags (me a backpack, him a messenger bag) that we were carrying and debated what to do. As we stood there talking, another officer came up from the back of the quickly-forming crowd announcing (very quietly, I might add), that we should all go to 48th street. A few people started to peel off from the back of the crowd, and Colin and I decided to do the same, figuring that if we stayed there, we would either have to surrender our bags or get stuck outside. What happened next was truly one of the oddest and funniest things I have seen during my time in the city. Somehow, in pushing our way through the crowd to get back out onto 6th Avenue, Colin and I lost eachother. No sooner had I taken out my phone to call him did I see people suddenly start running. Just a few at first, and then more. And they were all running toward 48th. So I began to jog a little while I waited for Colin to answer. By the time we finished our first sentence, we were both running, along with dozens of other people, down 48th street like Whitney Houston to a crack pipe. And why were we all running? To try to get into Times Square before the police had time to barricade the street, of course. I could just imagine that at any second I was going to see a can of tear gas roll along the ground. But surprisingly, we were all allowed to run in unmolested. It took Colin and I a while to find oneanother amongst the crowds, but we were eventually reunited and spent the next eight hours standing near the VIP walkway, waiting for the stroke of midnight.

Times Square itself was relatively tame once we actually got into the holding pens (yes, the little run down 48th was just a diversion; the police had strategically barricaded certain parts of the square in order to get us all into manageable pens - smarter than I thought they were). The energy level in the crowd was fairly low until about 11:55, thanks to a lackluster host (bring back Dick Clark), the total lack of any really decent performances (there were only three performances all night), shameless corporate plugs (if I read or saw the word 'Discover' one more time, I would have thrown up), and musical selections that probably reached the peak of their popularity shortly after WW2. However, when the clock struck 12 with all of the confetti flying and my boy in my arms, I knew it was all worth it (yeah, I'm a little sentimental sometimes).

. . .Okay, I still haven't covered New Years day, but check back tomorrow and I should have completed the last installment. Until then . . .