Fashion Rant

 I could blog about the ludicrous plan to privatize social security or the growing influence of evangelical fear-mongering in our government, but today I feel like tackling something a little lighter; fashion.

If you live in New York, you probably see a few of these everyday. The colder it gets, the more of them you see. However, even when the temperature climbs into the low 50s (as it did yesterday), a handful of them linger, their owners unwilling to toss them in the closet or, better yet, burn them to a crisp. You see them on young and old, though they seem to be favored by the 20-something professional crowd. They are a ubiquitous presence in our city, but each person who has one wears it with such an attitude of defiance that it seems they hardly realize that everyone else has the same one. Yes folks, I'm talking about the Burberry Scarf. It has managed to play itself out more quickly than those infamous Louis Vitton bags that every fag and hag with a couple of bucks and a contact in Chinatown has been walking around with for the past 5 years.  

I have to admit that the first time I saw one, I thought they were kinda nice. However, one can take only so much plaid hanging around the neck of seemingly every passerby before getting sick of it. It's gotten so bad that now I cringe every time I see one (which, given their popularity, is quite often). So I'm sending out an appeal. If you know someone with a Burberry (or imitation) scarf, please reach out to them and let them know just how horrible it looks. If you own one yourself, it's not too late to seek help. Just PLEASE stop wearing it, if for no other reason than to make this little blogger happy.

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.

 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).

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.

Sunday evening picks

- I've often wondered how people who hold what are traditionally low-paying jobs (by New York standards) are able to afford to live in nice apartments in Manhattan's trendier (read costlier) neighborhoods. Well, now I have my answer.

- Yet another article on gay marriage.

I can see my house!

My house was in the newspaper this weekend! Well, sorta . . .

The New York Times Real Estate section did an article on Crown Heights, the neighborhood to which we seemingly sometimes belong and sometimes do not (some people say we live in Crown Heights, others say we live in Prospect Heights). The article talks in general about how gentrifiers (hmm, are we included in that?) are coming into the neighborhood to take advantage of its low housing costs. What really made me like the article enough to blog about it, however, is that our building gets three [newsprint] paragraphs!

Large apartment buildings that command market-rate rents in the neighborhood are still relatively rare. But some 700 rental apartments, as well as a supermarket and restaurant, are now being carved out of what used to be the Brooklyn Jewish Hospital on Prospect Place.

The hospital, which is now known as the Interfaith Medical Center, moved to more modern quarters in Bedford-Stuyvesant in 2002. It had occupied an entire block of buildings between Classon and Franklin Avenues, and one of its original buildings has been turned into apartments with 12-foot-high ceilings [that's us!!!].

Steve Valiotis, a developer from Astoria who now owns the old hospital buildings, said that he is asking $1,200 to $2,500 a month rent for the new apartments, which have either one, two, or three bedrooms.

I didn't even know they were putting a supermarket in one of the buildings. If it's any good, maybe it'll keep me from having to go to Atlantic Terminal every time I want some good frozen foods. I think they ought to build a gym too. Yes, and a bookstore and a Brooks Brothers, and a ferris wheel . . .

Looking Back

New York is nothing if not a museum-goer's playground. Having been to both the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Museum of Modern Art in Queens, I was ready, however, to see something a little different. So, Colin and I ventured today to the American Museum of Natural History, and I must say that I was quite impressed. We began our tour with the ancient societies of Africa and North/Central America. I think I found this part more interesting than Colin did (though he was quite the trooper). We then went on to view exhibits on other early human cultures (including the societies of southeast Asia, which seemed quite far ahead of their contemporaries), and various animal exhibits, including one of the Mastodon skeleton shown above. Though we saw most of what the museum had to offer, I think I want to go back again soon to get a more detailed look at the third and fourth floors (which we breezed through rather quickly due to our mutual fatigue). All in all, I think the Museum of Natural History is my favorite so far. Below are some more pictures from our visit.

These are the jaws of a very large (extinct) predator, though who that predator is escapes me at the moment. Whatever the case, I'm just glad it's not still around.

This is a ziggurat built by early Central/South Americans (though the term is more commonly used to describe the temples of Mesopotamians).

This is a disk carved from stone by the Teotihuacan, who occupied the area north of present-day Mexico City (I actually visited this site in early March). It's really quite huge - I should have included something in the picture to give an idea of the size.

This is Colin standing outside of the entrance to the Human Evolution exhibit (don't worry, I did get a picture without that horrid little kid in it). The flash from the camera caused an interesting effect in this picture, though. Doesn't it look like the human skeleton is passing some kind of magical object to the ape (yes, I'm a nerd, I know)?

This is a scale model of the city of Alexandria in Egypt.

A cute little set-up in the Human Evolution exhibit. There's a little dog skeleton in the corner by the TV, but it's hard to see in this picture.

This is the giant whale that dominates the room housing the aquatic animals exhibit. You really have to be there to appreciate how big this animal is.

This is me and Colin at the end of our very long museum tour. We'll be back again. Soon.

Getting Closer

We had initially decided to buy furniture when we got to New York, but since we'll have a truck and my parents were nice enough to let me take my bed with me (though as Colin pointed out, it's likely a very nice way of saying "once you're gone, you can't move back in!"), we decided we could probably pick up a couple of pieces of furniture ahead of time and take them with us to New York. Well, since I live just minutes from the "Furniture Capital of the World", I decided to go looking, and as is often the case, I bought some stuff in the process.

Yesterday, I picked up a very nice 6' bookcase (trust me, we need the space. . . I may get another one). Today, I ventured to High Point to look for something to put our clothes in. You'd be amazed what you can find in a "Clearance" warehouse. Here's what I found.

This dresser and it's brother (the chest shown below), were on opposite sides of the warehouse, but my mother's discerning eye easily picked up the fact that they were part of the same set. I initially thought that the dresser was missing a handle, but for some reason, it was just screwed in on the other side (inside the drawer). Very weird.

This is what I really went looking for (actually I was looking for two of them), but I figured it would be better to get a proper dresser/chest set than to get two mismatching chests. And I can see your eyes glazing over, so I'll stop now.

All in all, it was a good shopping day. I also got very close to buying this couch . . .

. . .but decided that a couch was something I'd rather pick out with my boy. I never thought I'd have so much fun shopping for furniture. Now we just need an apartment to put it all in.

Right up my alley

If I had a vagina (mayhaps I am leaving myself open there), it would be positively soaked right now. Why? There's a new blog in town. And it's all about my favorite subject as of late: New York real estate! Woo hoo! Check out Curbed when you get a chance. If it proves to be any good over the next few weeks, you can expect a permanent link on the page.