A kinder, gentler MTA

So coming home tonight from Murray Hill (my friend Shira's Swami Celebration; she just received her certification for teaching yoga), I got super lucky with the 6 train uptown to 51st and then lucky AGAIN with the E train to Queens. But when I got out at Queens Plaza to transfer to the R train, I stood on the platform for some time waiting. No biggie though, I had my trusty girlie magazine with me to read (Glamour, not Penthouse). So the R finally comes and we all hurry to get on. So while I'm sitting there after the doors close, this gentle voice gets on the loud speaker announcing the next stop but then he pauses and says, "I just wanted to apologize to all of you that have been waiting for a while. We are about 12 minutes behind schedule due to some congestion on the R line so that is why you were waiting so long. We're sorry for that." I was STUNNED. And for those others around me that didn't have their iPods on, they were all smiling because it was so sincere and heartfelt. MTA should take this guy to the next training and tell everyone to stop saying the standard "thank you for being patient" when they fully know that no one is BEING PATIENT and it's just aggravating to hear someone TELL you what you're feeling. This guy had it right. Just say sorry in a believable way and it makes New Yorkers smile. We all need to relax regardless. It is what it is. The subway system is robust and complicated. We're not always going to get what we want. And in order to relax ... I know this great new yoga instructor you should really check out. :-) Ommmmmmmmmmm......

A Quickie

So it's been some time since I blogged and I still don't have a ton to say (or moreso the time to say it) but I wanted to share some quick thoughts (or photos) before I head to London and Geneva tomorrow night for three weeks.

For those that know me, I have been extremely lucky finding gems in the discarded items we toss to the curb each week on "big pickup day." This past week was one of those lucky streaks and I found the below piece of wood furniture only a half block from my apartment. I love that something like this is hundreds of dollars in a Crate & Barrel catalog or Pottery Barn but I get to tell people, "Oh, that old thing. Found it in the garbage. Isn't it great?" And funny enough, it fit perfectly at the end of my new roomie's bed so now she has a place to display her things in a fun way. My home decor is based on the old phrase, "One man's trash is another man's treasure."



My new thing recently was taking a photo of my family home, the home I lived in since birth. For some reason, I had never done that and it gave me a totally different perspective on the place. Number one, it's so quaint and cute. But Dad, if you're reading this, it looks like someone dropped a bowl of blueberries on the roof and I think there's a lot of dirt on the siding near the garden. Otherwise, the gardens up front are gorgeous. Well done Mom! Beautiful choices in greenery.



This one is simply to continue my series of sleeping persons on the NYC subway. She was my latest victim. On the F train coming home from work.



The below photo is from a dinner I had recently at Brick Cafe in Astoria with Serge, the gentleman that went to Thailand to volunteer for MaryKnoll and never came back. He graciously gave me all the info I wanted on what it will be like there when I teach English for 3 months in Chang Mai (sp?) Can't wait. Thanks Serge for a lovely evening. Can't wait to have some Thai food with you in Bangkok. Oh wait, it would just be called "food" there, right?



On Mondays and Tuesdays, I get to look out on this view from my Design Department desk. It's awesome. This day in particular it looked like Armageddon but the photo itself almost looks fake because of the way the light was hitting the steel on the Manhattan Bridge.

Union! Union! Union!

So if the really cute guy on the subway is reading this, the one with the four tiny hoops in his left ear, all dirty from a hard day's work, with the paper thin, worn-in Local 123 T-shirt on, I'm so sorry I waited until AFTER you got off the train to smile at you. Thanks for looking back. So if you want to email me, just put the subject line: "You're an idiot" and I'll know it's you. Okay, so I didn't pay attention to the union number but you know who you are....

Girls and guys of NYC, why do we do this to ourselves? Have these missed opportunities? We were looking at each other from East Broadway to 14th Street. It was sooooo obvious but noooooo, no one in NYC would dare actually go up to someone and start talking to them. That would be crazzzzyyyyy. UGH. I'm gonna move, I tell ya. This is getting ridiculous.

A Hard Day's Night

Apparently, my new thing is taking photos of people sleeping on the subway. Because I have not graduated to the degree of taking candids of coherent individuals, this is my outlet currently. It's fun. Sometimes I just do it and look like I'm adjusting my camera or looking at my day's shots but other times if I have a book or my HUGE September issue of InStyle magazine with me, I use that to shield the fact that I'm capturing their soul in digital format. This time, the Uma Thurman-adorned pages assisted me in my quest.



I love this shot because at first, I took it horizontally and didn't get his backpack and kicks and it was okay but not good enough. The poor guy ... it looks like he had a really hard day. He hardly woke up when we entered each station to see where we were. I kind of figured he was going to Queens with me even though he was already on the train when I got on at York Street. And of course THIS reminded me of my ex-boyfriend's mother. It's a funny story actually and she'd die if she ever knew I was writing it down here. But whatever, she wasn't all too nice to me when I broke things off with her precious son -- so there.

For a worldly individual who has been to many corners of the world and spent decades living in one of the most culturally diverse cities on the planet, I cannot put her down for what she did, I can only laugh (which is what many of her family members do when this story is told). One day she was on the R train heading downtown when she saw an Asian family trying to decide where they were getting off. They were looking out the window to see where they were now and trying to locate the subway map. My ex-mother-in-law (practically speaking), got up and rushed over, taking it upon herself to let them know that THIS was indeed their stop, Canal Street/Chinatown.

My ex always rolled his eyes in disbelief that she actually said this to them and made that assumption that all Asians must be heading there because that's where they belong. It was an honest assumption, I must admit, considering when I saw that this guy was not getting up when I was getting off in Jackson Heights, I had that same feeling. (We all do, we all just don't admit it or get caught TELLING people to get off here because it's your part of town). I thought, 'he must be getting off here, he's just a SLEEPY Muslim Indian. I don't want him to wake up in Forest Hills.' This must happen all the time in New York since we're all so helpful and love giving directions. I imagine that many a New Yorker on the J/M/Z line has offered assistance to a Hasidic family fumbling for their map as they approach Hewes Street. Everyone knows all the Hasids live in South Williamsburg :-)

And since I'm on the stereotype/generalization kick, I went to Yonkers last night to celebrate the knocked-up-ness of a good friend of mine and cannot get over the influx of Irish there. I know that's not new news but I think I'm gonna round up some single girlfriends and take a gander at some of the pubs there. We may find some good craic there (pronounced CRACK, translation=FUN).

It's a Zoo Out There

So get used to it. I think my headlines will always be corny. Today I awoke to some aggravating phone calls that I didn't answer but I wasn't going to let it bring me down. It was Wednesday after all, HUMP DAY. I had to do something fun. So I remembered that Wednesday is FREE DAY at the Bronx Zoo. I will go visit with the animals. And visit I did. After walking my own little borrowed animal, LuLu, I hopped on the 2 train and headed to West Farms to stand on line with all the other thrifty New Yorkers who don't want to pay $15. It was a beautiful day and it's great that so much of the zoo is in the shade because I do love the shade. I saw a lot of the park but enjoyed Tiger Mountain the most because when I first entered the building that looks out onto the "mountain" where the tigers graze, there weren't ANY in sight and everyone was really pissed off because they waited on line to get in. So just as some people were leaving cursing (which is sooooo appropriate to do when you're at a family place), a tiger surfaced. Granted it was merely because he (or she) saw the zookeeper atop the building with raw meat that s/he threw onto a rock for the tiger to devour.

But regardless, they know how to make the visitors happy. I got so many great shots of him with his mouth open, looking straight at me, it was all very exciting. And although I could have let the little ones in front of me to get a better look, I didn't. So when I left, I walked toward Fordham to see if I could catch the tail end of what seems to be a Wednesday/Thursday flea market (new thing) that I read about on my favorite blog, design*sponge, but it ended up being a far walk and just a bunch of crap honestly. But I got to see the university where my cousin Seamus (James) Finlay was the Dean of Students (new thing). Fordham even named a building after him. Finlay Hall. My dad just told me that. Cool beans. So now I'm back home making arrangements to meet up with mothers that are possibly interested in my babysitting services. Oh, but something icky happened too. I was just exiting the express D train after running into a former client of mine which made me so happy to hear that he's doing so well, and some grimy guy grabbed at my privates. Gross and ewwwww. Who does this!?!