I want my scarf back

I think I left it at someone's apartment along with my dignity. Damn.

It's time to go to bed

Last night, I went to bed at 10 for the first time in probably a year. A combination of the work and social schedule along with a proclivity towards putzing around the internet have all contributed to the demise of a healthy sleep schedule. Basically, I don't go to bed earlier than 12. So when I turned in early last night only to wake up a half hour later to the sound of a buzzing intercom (people are always mistakenly ringing my apartment), I looked at my clock in shock. I thought that maybe I had hit a few wrong buttons when setting my alarm and that I had accidentally reset my clock. Or that I had overslept well into the morning. It took me a minute to realize that it was really in fact, 10:30 at night. I think that a revision in bedtimes is in order. The nine hours of sleep were delicious.

Back that ass up... at your own risk

I love to dance. I don't claim to do it well, but mix equal parts alcohol and latin music, and I feign rhythm. (I met a puerto rican lady last night who said that I can move - I'm encouraged). It's a great activity to do on a girls' night out and depending on where you go, it's an easy way to meet an eclectic group of friendly people. However, I will never understand why some men feel that approaching a female from behind is a successful method for acquiring a willing dance partner.

I call it the 'up the ass' approach where a girl will be dancing with her friends and suddenly find a faceless stranger grinding her ass. She will turn around to see who it is and then wish she hadn't. Because more often than not, the guy will be sufficiently smarmy. I'm not passing judgment on guys who like to mix things up and change positions (I realize that this entry is beginning to sound like something else). But I think most ladies will be back me up on this when I say that introducing oneself to a girl's ass before meeting her is just not the way to go.

Missed Connection?

I was on my way into blockbuster to rent a video for my screenwriting class (yes, I'll admit to being an occasional patron of such a place, even though I hate it) when I noticed a shaggy white butt occupying the doorway. Not daring to think the impossible, I assumed that the owner of the shaggy white butt was some breed of yappy, annoying drop-kick dog. But then as I craned my neck to assess, I realized it was a pekingnese almost identical to the one my family dog-sat for a year!! I swooned and proceeded to accost the dog's obliging owner who humored my random questions about the dog and my request to pet him (the dog, not the owner). Now I'm kicking myself for not giving the dog's owner my phone number and volunteering to dog-sit. Maybe I should post a missed connection on craigslist? Sigh, I didn't even get his name. I think I'm in love.

Fucking Cancer

Four months of chemo and two bone marrow transplants later, my mom's cancer has rebounded. To be accurate, there was an intermittent year and a half when she approximated being disease-free. But all factors considered, including my moving home for 15 months to help out, the entire process didn't afford her nearly enough time or benefit. And the selfish part of me wonders how her resuming treatment is going to affect me - I just enrolled in a weekend writing class. How does one manage work and outside interests with family situations? How do people decide between putting their family or themselves first? And how do they quell the guilt that accompanies choosing the latter?

I left my eggs behind

This post has nothing to do with the female cycle and everything to do with short term memory loss...

I went on my weekly grocery run last week. Navigating the store in a routine fashion, I picked up the necessary items including a dozen Grade A large eggs and robotically proceeded to the checkout line. In my usual zoned out manner, I quickly swiped my credit card, signed the receipt, grabbed the bags, left the store and unpacked the groceries upon arrival to my apartment. (I will admit that there is sometimes a lag time between the purchase of the groceries and the unpacking of them when I'm feeling less than motivated...)

Three days later, I realized that I had forgotten the eggs. IT TOOK ME THREE DAYS. And according to the receipt, I had paid for them.

Undaunted, I decided to bring the receipt with me this week and reclaim what would now be essentially prepaid eggs. The plan seemed like a fairly executable one until I arrived at the checkout line and discovered that I had forgotten my wallet. And the receipt. Damn.

I am coming to the conclusion that I should spend less time imbibing various alcoholic beverages and more time allowing my brain cells to recuperate, assuming that I remember to do this. Otherwise, I'm coining a new variation of eggs - the Week-long Omelette.

Frogger Takes New York

Living in a pedestrian city like New York presents a variety of challenges to the work commute. In my case, the commute to work is a 3-stop subway ride or a 25-minute walk. So by comparison, my travel to work is fairly minimal and admittedly much easier than most. However, the longer I live here, the more I realize the hazards of a simple walk down the street and think that Milton Bradley should introduce a New York variation on the board/video game, Frogger.

You have the usual throngs of tourists to contend with, who take up the entire sidewalk at a painstakingly slow pace only to come to an abrupt, warningless stop. And you have the sickeningly obnoxious couples who can't seem to cross a street or walk one block without holding hands or hogging the sidwalk, thereby making it impossible for you to pass them. (I often find myself resisting the urge to take a running start and red rover right between them). You also have the people who cut you off - I believe that there is such a thing as pedestrian-rage - and the people who you encounter head-on and wind up playing a game of chicken with to negotiate who has to move.

Then, you have the usual pedestrian-unfriendly car traffic that seems to operate on a pedestrian-has-the-right-of-way-unless-you-run-him/her over philosophy. And depending on which part of town you're in, there are a few other factors to bring into the mix:

1. Midtown/Grand-Central - DHL delivery people with their gray trolleys. I suppose the price of on-time delivery is a few flattened pedestrians. Those gray trolleys can gather surprising speeds.

2. UWS -Baby strollers. Baby and nanny have places to go, people to see.

3. Downtown- Cyclists. They don't follow normal traffic rules or pedestrian conventions -they answer to no one. I would steer clear.

This brings me to a few hazards I hadn't thought of until recently - air conditioning units and scaffolding. I had recently helped a friend install her AC unit; and by help, I'm using the term very loosely here. (It involved me holding the AC unit while she tried to position it in place.) I had no idea that the only thing generally securing an AC unit is the window, which now has me paranoid about getting knocked out by a projectile AC unit. And due to a recent newscast of a building/scaffolding collapsing on 100th/Broadway, I now realize the potential danger of being crushed underneath construction.

So given all of the potential risk in walking to work, I think that I'll be improving my skills at Frogger and considering some headgear. Thanks for checking in!

-E