New Year's Resolutions

Now, for the traditional portion of New Year's Eve, here are my resolutions.

1) Learn to better manage my finances (please, I need to stop wasting money on overpriced drinks and shoes)

2) Learn patience. Stop expecting things to happen immediately and accept them coming when they will

3) Send out manuscripts to be published, no matter how many rejection letters I get in the process

4) Bring my kitty to New York

5) Read more

6) Balance excercise and diet- don't overdo it, as I have a tendency to do

7) Cut back on sugar and caffeine ( I think I pick this one every year)

8) Begin an IRA

9) Take the GRE (that's right, just in case)

10) Finish my old scrapbooks so I can begin a new one.

Violence in the South

This Christmas was one of the oddest I've ever experienced in North Carolina. I've always associtaed the state with a general peacefulness, particularly around the holidays. I'm not sure why I have made those associations, since the area I lived in there was one of the worst in the country, but I have always felt safe way out in the country on the farm, curled up in front of our logs (yes, gas) and drinking hot chocolate while an animal rests on my lap or at my feet. But this year maybe I heard too much news or something because everything was different. There were around eight news stories about parents killing their children, or injuring them so badly they would be in the hospital for months. One woman placed her best friend's 2 year old in scalding hot water because she was angry at the friend, killing the toddler. Another man was jailed for beating his son, and for previous abuse found in the way of broken bones. Why hadn't the child said anything before? Because he was 11 weeks old. TWo children were purposely run over by their parents the day after Christmas. When did the celebration of Jesus become more a celebration of Herod's desire to kill every baby boy. I couldn't believe what I was hearing and stayed in tears almost constantly. I have such a deep, intense love for children I'm close with, I can't imagine ever harming anyone's child. And that sounded a lot worse than some of the things that were going on up here.

But it got me to thinking about people now. I wonder if things were this bad forty or fifty or one hundred years ago. It's a fact that depression is on the rise here, and that more people will develop it. It's a fact that our economy is not in the best shape, and that it's hard to find a job, keep a job, and live. More people in their twenties are moving back home to live with their parents, who are also still working because rumours are flying about Social Security and where it's going. I will most likely not have any social security, and am forced to start working on different options for my own retirement thought it's decades and decades again. And did I mention that my parents pay for my health insurance because I can't afford to? Divorce rates are higher than ever, and yet a ton of my friends under 25 are getting married and settling down and having babies. Food prices are on the rise, gas prices are on the rise and natural disasters seem to be occurring with more regularity.

Since I've depressed my audience, I'll now move back towards the violence parents exhibit towards their children lately. I'm aware that there are plenty of normal families out there, but there are also reality tv shows based on parents that aren't doing such a great job. Everything is changing with the mood of this country. My grandmother's family came here because of the amazing opportunities offered. Now I'm thinking about eventually moving to Europe because of the amazing opportunities there, and more Europeans are electing to stay in Europe and feel sorry for the poor Americans. I'm not unhappy about being born American, not in the least, but I'm curious about what's happening, why everything is shifting. I'm reminded of "Pleasantville" when the teachers are going on and on about how everything is going downhill in the world and then Tobey Maguire and Reese Witherspoon are transported to PLeasantville. On the surface everything is perfect, until they delve in the restrictive world that lies beneath piles of pancakes and a winning basketball team.

Maybe I've just spent so much time sugarcoating what my life could be that I'm not appreciating how lucky I am to have a farm to escape to, and an apartment in Manhattan, and animals and people that love me. I have friends and a boyfriend and a job and plenty of free time in the evening to watch "Friends" reruns and read long novels. I had a wonderful Christmas. I saw my grandmothers and great-aunts and family and some friends. I watched movies and ate cake and snuggled under the covers with my cat Edie. I can only hope that as 2006 quickly approaches I am able to look ahead to something bright and wonderful and decisive. I can only hope that people will find their anger dissipates as we work towards another year, a better one. With a better me.

Make a Career of It

Entering Day 2 of the New York Transit strike and there is no word on how long it will last. Millions crowd over the Brooklyn Bridge and are literally packed onto LIRR trains as subways and buses continue not to run. It has me thinking about what North Carolina would do if suddenly all roads were shut off and people had to depend on walking and biking to get to work. What would happen? A state of emergency, I imagine, with the Governor standing in front of the capital building and explaining how terrible it is and for people to just stay put. New Yorkers have more resiliency than that. I was in awe of the people willing to cross the bridge in temperatures that are hovering around 14 degrees with windchill and probably even more on the water. I was impressed with people who walked from as far as 107th street to come to work in the twenties. Even kids got to school. And the UPS man came last night, surprising the hell out of me and making me wish I had gotten some shipments together.

People here are very career oriented. It's on of the biggest focuses in this city. It's the first question asked when picking up or being picked up at a bar, and no matter how drunk someone is, they remember to ask it. It's kind of like in the South when people want to know what sorority you were in. It makes a difference. And, also impressively, you can make a career out of almost anything here. Where people at home work at department stores as a part time job, or until something better comes along, there are salespeople at Saks who have been there thirty years and will receive retirement benefits when they go. Retail is a career here. There is no shame in announcing you work at the Gap,even. You can move up fairly quickly and become an important part of that industry.

Whole majors at FIT are dedicated to fashion and to things that may be considere minute- like window design. Saks, Bloomingdales, Barney's all pay a small fortune out to people who spend their days working on the latest displays and trying to make sure it's the best it can be. These people are professionals. When I worked in retail we were responsible for redoing window displays in our spare time. In New YOrk, it's a job, not a hobby.

I've also noticed the dedication of older students during this strike. One poor girl had walked from Prospect Heights all the way into Manhattan carrying her make-up kit for class. Being a make-up aritst is not something left to counter people at Belk's, like in NC. It's an actual degree that will hopefully lead to a specialization in things varying from personal make-up artistry to theatre make-up. People spend several years working on a degree that will land them a job in the profession that they love.

Why aren't people in other places like that? No one at home can believe that you can make a career out of window design and eyeshadow. They are confused by people that choose to spend their best years following customers around Barney's. There isn't as much acceptance within the arts and alternate career paths that people choose here. Maybe that's another reason I love the city. I truly can do whatever I want and at least try to make a go of it. If I wanted to pursue photography again, I could actually do it as opposed to just using it as a hobby and not breaking even with equipment, etc. It's an incredible feeling of freedom. Where other people see oppression, I see opportunity.

I'm on Strike

THis morning, I awoke to a crisis that New York City hasn't seen in twenty five years. A Transit Workers Union strike- i.e. the people that run the subways and buses. There was chaos as thousands and thousands of people were forced to cross Brooklyn Bridge on foot and walk to work, and thousands of others tried to drive into the city in their own car, most being turned away if they didn't have the required number of passengers to go beneath ninety-sixth street. I'm lucky in some ways, in that I live near the neighborhood I work in, and so walk to work everyday regardless. I am unlucky in that because I'm the ONLY employee at this time that lives near my office I was depended on to handle everyone's workload today plus my own just a few days before Chrsitmas. Today's my last full day here, I'm leaving tomorrow for North Carolina. So I spent much of the day watching Law and Order and calling every car service in Manhattan begging for a ride.

I'm amazed at how calm people are about the strike, besides those on strike. Of course, in a cruel sort of irony, they're all stuck uptown, being unable to return to their own homes at the moment. That gives me pleasure. And Pablo Gonzalez, by far the unluckiest local newscaster in the city, spent all morning uptown interviewing people, picking out people who didn't speak english and undercover cops to interview. It was hilarious.

I have to say I'm glad to be getting out of town in order to avoid the major issues that would come about with a strike. Eventually I'd want to leave my neighborhood and not have to be in an office alone all day. Eventually I'd want to see about getting the heck out of dodge. As it stands currently, I'm prepared for just about anything that is to come my way. I feel like i'm part of what will become historical. History happens all around us, all the time, but I happen to have chosen a melodramatic place to build it in. I think it'll be fascinating to see what good comes of people fighting people, instead of working with each other to make a better mass transit system for everyone.

Today probably those of us who drive cars to work and live in suburban cities are probably thanking their lucky stars and pointing out all the bad things that can happen when people become too dependent on mass transportation. But I count myself lucky to be a part of apopulation that is willing to use Mass transit to get just about anywhere, that understands it's safer, more efficient, and better for the environment. That they are teaching their children these values, helping them understand that you're not okay just because you drive a huge Suburban two miles down the road for groceries evvery night. New Yorkers, for all their faults, have street smarts, and that is one of the most important. Not everyone can understand that, especially those who truly are desperate to have their hands on a wheel and be in charge of a piece of plastic and metal that runs on asphalt, but the rest of us really don't care. If I didn't have a car for the rest of my life and lived in an urban place I'd be fine. Everywhere I've traveled has been dependent on some sort of mass transportation.

But tomorrow I'm going on strike from the strike. I refuse to be trapped in this box with so many preparations going on at my apartment in order to leave it for what amounts to a long weekend. I still have to clean and do laundry and fix food and get to the airport on time, and of course hit the gym before leaving for a week and indulging myself in holiday treats. It's crazy what we go through before the holidays as it is, and to throw a strike on top of that seems to be madness.

1500 High-kicks Per Day

Mom and I went to see the Radio City Music Hall Christmas Spectacular on Friday night. It was UNBELIEVABLE. I say that with the utmost sincerity. We were oohing and aahing from the opening scene all the way through the living Nativity at the end. That had, I might add, not one, not two, but three camels onstage. I'm not even sure where you store camels backstage. But apparently they made it happen. And everything else. A few weeks ago in the Sunday Times, an article was written about being a Rockette. How stressful and wonderful it was, how it was the most solid dance gig in town. The girls have to do five shows a day at the peak of the season and train for several months beforehand. They spend the between takes in bathtubs full of ice, trying to keep their legs from swelling too much so they can go back to kicking and smiling for another show. They literally perform 1500 high kicks a day, wreaking havoc on their bodies. I have never been so impressed in my life.

As for Mom, she was impressed with my life. She loved my apartment, as tiny as it is, and felt safe being in the neighborhood we were in. I teased her about gangs and crime, but for the most part the Village feels just as safe as my college town did, and I'm happy with living there. I explained that it was amazing to be able to have everything delivered, laundry and dry cleaning done for me, pick up and delivery and take-out of any food ever invented, and a variety of languages. All in a day's work. I told her that I was walking more and eating better and feeling better about myself over all. I was happy living in a 400 square foot space. And then I realized it was true. That I could, in theory, spend the rest of my life living here if I wanted to. I like having a place here and really absorbing everything that is importantin life- arts, food, wine, friends. I love not having a car and still being able to get everywhere.

Of course, she was not very impressed with the subway. On Friday night we took the N out to Astoria to eat in a really good restaurant. We waited on the platform for ever it seemed, and when the train came we stepped inside and boom, there was a drunk guy passed out on the floor in blood and vomit. Wonderful sight for a woman who refused to take the subway because of things like this. So we moved to another car, and I spent the next twenty minutes being lectured on why not to be out alone after dark. A typical parental move.

But for the most part it was normal. Everything went as planned, we walked around, we shopped at Pearl River Mart. She fell in love with the little street vendors down in SoHo and the super-adorable dogs that live on my block. My goal for her was to experience something different than the standard mid-town visit and I th ink it worked. I hope it worked. My goal was also for her to go home feeling secure about her daughter's decision to move to an island that holds 10 million people. We'll have to see how that works out.

The FIrst Parental Check-In

I spent last night scrubbing down my apartment and desperately trying to think of places to hide things I don't want my mother to see. She's coming today for the weekend, for the first time since I've moved up here. It will be the first time she's seen my apartment, really been in my neighborhood and the first time she's been to New York at Christmas time. I'm expecting her to be on her best behavior and hoping that we can live in my room without killing each other, but fearing the worst. As with the TWU/MTA strikes, you hope it won't happen, but must have a back-up plan. So I've developed various itineraries to avoid being in my apartment for long periods of time (besides sleeping) and will let her choose from any of the options. Personally I don't care what we do. I did suggest we NOT go up-town after last weekend's disaster area of Fifth Ave. (I still shudder to think of it) but wonder if she can really handle eating in Chinatown. I won't point out that I practically grew up on Chinese take-out from the place on Andrews Ave.

There are all kinds of things that have changed about me. I walk faster, appear more serious, and take the subway everywhere I can. My mother took the subway the first time we came to New York, but when it randomly expressed to the Bronx freaked out and said never again. she's going to have to suck it up again, however, because we can't spend an hour in a cab going uptown during Friday afternoon rush hour.

We're planning on shopping in SoHo tomorrow, eating in Astoria tonight, and having brunch with pancakes on Sunday morning at Sullivan Diner or Waverly Place Restaurant (She, of course, doesn't know this yet) Then she'll leave Monday morning, only to have me following close behind on Wednesday for the next week and a half. I'll have to drive everywhere, make sure to go to the gym everyday to work on getting rid of those holiday calories and to stay sane. The further I move into my twenties the more rooted my belief system becomes, and I've convinced that moving to New YOrk is one of hte best decisions I could have made regarding my family relationships. We've always been on and off tense and now that tension is, for the most part, alleviated. Because I'm more than 400 miles away. It's a very exciting change.

I wonder what people really want to see of New York. Of course there's traditional stuff galore, but do they ever want to be like a New Yorker and go to the neighborhood coffee shop that secretly serves great bagels or to the newstand where, if you go enough, occasionally you'll get free papers? It's ahard to say. i know that when I was just visiting up here I was intrigued by mid-town but fell in love with the Village, a good reason for living down there. And I still love it. I like walking to work through pre-schoolers, and the same dogs I see everyday and couples running. The question is, will my parents? Their greatest fear is that I love it up here so much I never come back. And it may be true.

Your Happy Pill

I was opening my email account this morning, just to check it out like I do every morning I get to the office early and realized that the majority of the email that I receive now is junk. Seriously. "Your Happy Pill" is one of the ones I got today, along with three for online dating, one for online sex, and several junky coupons from stores I don't go to. How do so many people get my email address? I would love to know how NCOHSEONNELK OI@ehaioeo.com receives my information and elects to send me time-sensitive information on a free penis enlargement, or how others send me things on shopping, food, and pills. Why do they think they know so much about me? Then I realized that they don't, but that they must have enough responses from other people to keep on filling inboxes with cheap Viagra and Prozac websites.

I would love to meet these other people, who not only open the emails (which I did in the case of a midget porn site) but also actually go to the site and register and pay to watch midgets have sex or get generic prescriptions from Canada. THere must be a whole population who wants a free penis enlargement and probably a whole other population who wouldn't mind having Happy Pills readily available to them through the wonder and beauty of the internet. While I'm not one of these people (I won't even buy herb remedies online) I would love to meet some of these people. I guess I've always viewed the internet more as functional than as a doctor, prostitute, teacher, and restauranteer. One time a college roommate, E, and I bought Kindersurprise from Canada. We spent like $25 on these toy chocolate eggs that we rationed out slowly and collected more and more toys, most of which I have saved. We won it on EBay. Seriously. But beyond that I still do most of my shopping in stores and enjoy the person to person contact of strip joints as opposed to web cameras.

The internet truly has changed how we look at the world. Whereas I used to be terrible at crosswords and always wonder about certain answers, now, when I've done all I can, I'll go online trying to find as many other answers as possible.I can know what certain clues mean (Except in the case of the Times, when you just have to be a Harvard doctorate in order to solve the Sunday crossword) There are just certain parts of my life that I enjoy spending in the outdoors, especially now that esseentially 40 hours a week is spent indoors in front of the bluish white screen of a Mac. Maybe that's why people need to have access to happy pills online. They want the security that even as they sit in front of their computers, hundreds of other less than happy people are doing the same thing.

I wonder how the numbers compare between now and ten years ago. How many people had blogs or IM or hotmail? I can still remember typing research papers on an electronic typewriter and turning in hand-written drafts. I remember my father having a carphone back in the eighties but it certainly wasn't regulation on top of being HUGE. It took up the center front seat. I remember my first cell-phone, a bulky black thing I kept carefully tucked in my car for EMERGENCIES only. Now I only have a cell phone (mostly because I can't afford a landline. I love landlines so much more than cell phones. I think there's nothing better than getting home to hear the familiar beep of an answering machine). Now that's general. Most of my friends up here only have cell phones without landlines. You certainly can't go the other way nowadays. It's too easy to meet people and double check movie times and restaurant reviews... all from the convience of Times Square.

So I guess I'll just continue cleaning out my junk mail folder every day. But I"ll still wonder about the other people out there with their junk mail folders, contentedly opening emails about animals and demerol and alien abductions.

Another Chilly Morning

It is currently seven degrees (factoring in wind chill) in New York right now. A beautiful sunny day, clear skies, a little snow on the ground, everything shiny after last week's storm. And of course I forgot my scarf. Well, not really forgot. After yesterday ( a beautiful day) I thought I could handle today without a scarf, seeing as I arrived home last night in a sweat. Unfortunately I was wrong about that. Today I stepped out and literally gasped like a fish out of water.

One of the lawyers I used to work for told me a story about how in Chicago, people literally have to suck in their breath little by little in order for their lungs to get used to breathing such cold air. Apparently it's essentially the same thing here. I sucked in air little by little until I was breathing normally by the time I reached the end of my block. No wonder I woke up with a feeling of dread and desire to stay in bed instead of going to work. Briefly I considered calling in sick (something I'm proud to say I haven't done yet) but then realized that even if I did call in sick, all the work I have to get done this week would still be waiting for me tomorrow. An interestng concept compared to that of school, really. Nothing changes day to day. Teachers aren't there to give extensions or reexplain how your life is supposed to go.

More than ever, I am beginning to relate to "Office Space". Originally I found it amusing and we used to watch it on a regular basis while drinking and saying that was never going to be us. But for most of us, that will be us, at least for a little while out of college. I have heard from several different sources that your first job should generally not last more than a couple of years. Probably because it's often not as career oriented as bill paying. Not if you're a teacher or nurse or something in that field, but for the rest of us who have liberal arts degrees and are determined not to be suckered into the large check world of finance and business. So I have been here about 5 months and am already considering where I would like to go next. I was lucky, in that I found a job in a career I wanted (or at least thought I wanted) and have been able to learn a ton from this job while working incredibly hard on top of trying not to lose all the education that my parents spent so much money on.

Yes, I watch too many Friends and Seinfeld reruns.

So as the weather gets chilly and i have a harder time getting up in the morning to go to work, I hope I can keep in mind that I'm not in a cubicle, that people actually know my name and entrust me with responsibility, and that I'm working towards climbing up that ladder and claiming a place for myself in this freezing cold, gorgeous city.

Fifth Avenue Madness

Boyfriend and I made a huge mistake on Saturday. We went to mid-town to do some Christmas shopping for his family. Ordinarily things would have been very busy but not so much taht you couldn't actually squeeze yourself into the stores and buy more material goods probably made in sweatshops overseas. But Fifth Ave. was RIDICULOUS. Maybe even BEYOND RIDICULOUS. Not only were there lines just to GET INTO certain stores (including but not limited to FAO Schwartz, Saks, Barney's and Tiffany's) there were lines for the lines that stretched beyond the blocks. I was literally shoved from block to block. At one point it took us almost twenty minutes to move from 49th and 5th to 51st and 5th. Even Central Park was packed, with lines for the $80 15 minute carriage rides that are apparently super popular during the holidays.

I was amazed. I watched as tourists shoved and squeezed and yelled at each other while often video-taping the windows of Saks and Barneys. I can say they were fantastic, and later on my friend B told me that people actually attend FIT with window design as a focus, which also impressed me. But it was uncomfortable and not at all fun or Christmas-sy. The idea was- a snow covered tree at ROckefeller center, people caroling in front of St. Patrick's. But not the actual walking through the more thn crowded streets and watching as poor exhausted police officers tried to control the crowds who were man-handling their bags from Saks and Macy's and Sephora.

What also amazed me, as well as pissed me off, were the people out there with BABY STROLLERS. Can you think of a worse time to be pushing your scared, screaming child through a crowd? My foot must have been run over at least 8 times and I got hit on several occasions. I couldn't believe that, knowing it was going to be bad, parents wouldn't opt to pay some high school girl $10 an hour to babysit. Even hotels can find you babysitters, and it certainly beats being one of the many frustrated parents I saw watching as their child clamored for a toy or picture with Santa or screamed out of pure anxiety from being shoved into something so merciless and horrible. I've always thought that parents should never take their kids into toy stores near Christmas- the temptation is too great for them, and too often they'll end up buying their child something after a screaming fit takes place in front of already disgruntled employees. It's just a bad idea. There are so many other things to do in the city- ice skating and Radio City Music Hall and The Nutcracker and walks in the parks that it is almost cruel, in my eyes, to put your child under so much stress and then, on top of that, expect them to behave themselves.

So after a couple of hours of this Hell, which made me feel like I was watching my life pass before my eyes, we finally gave up and went home, empty handed and hungry. I have never been so relieved to be back downtown, where there were plenty of people, but nothing I wasn't used to or thought I could handle. We even scored a table at Chipotle while throwing back tacos and burritos and swearing that we would never do that again. Nothing was accomplished except a lot of shoulder tension.

What worries me is that my mother is coming up here on Friday and staying the weekend. I know she wants to go uptown and see all the lights and stuff but at this point I'm not even sure I'm up for it. I have a better mind to take her to some of the outer burroughs and eat in Astoria or Brooklyn rather than deal with the crowds that will most likely only increase the closer it gets to the holidays.

Silver Bells

it's Christmas time in the city! I finally feel ready. I woke up this morning to a glorious coating of snow, and while I had to wade through it to get to work (unlike in NC, where everything would have been shut down by now) it was still beautiful and inspiring weather to walk in. I was thinking about hte first time I remember snow, from when I was five or six. We made snowmen and raced downhill in our sled. I remember running around in this fluffy mess and eating snowcream when it was too cold to be outside anymore.

Fortunately I never lost that magic. It's one of the few beliefs and ephiphanies I have managed to hang onto even as I have grown-up and become more cynical. I have always had an appreciation for snow, for the quiet it brings, even to a city. It seems to muffle everything and make it magical. I watched the kids across the street filing into preschool this morning, many hanging onto a snowball they made and asking questions about the snow. I did the same thing, questioning if the snowflakes really were different, and how it fell and if it was warm on top of the grass and leaves.

I think snow makes everything a little bit better. People were quieter on my walk to work today but it wasn't bad. We smiled at each other in the understanding that in the snow, everything was different. We were a little more courteous about slower, older walkers. We stepped carefully over at piles at the crosswalk and didn't jaywalk because the cabs still had a desire to hit us even during the storm. By the time I got to Jamba Juice on Houston, however, the snow had changed to rain and i stepped inside to open an umbrella. The guys shoveling snow in front of their businesses were whistling and for some reason I felt better about myself than I had in quite a while. It's important to note that with these changes comes hope for a white Christmas.

We've never had a White Christmas, at least not where I lived. I'm not even sure New York gets that many. I've always wanted one. When I was little I would wish on every falling star during the fall for a white Christmas, for waking up to presents from Santa, hot chocolate, brothers, and snow drifts that would make it impossible for them to go hunting, meaning more time spent with me. Christmas really is the perfect time to be snowed in. First of all, you have brand new toys to play with, so you're never bored on Christmas day. Secondly you can stay in your pajamas as long as you want, becuase no one can come see you in the snow. Third, Mom would let us watch as much TV as we wanted and keep the warm drinks flowing. Fourth, we always had plenty of food. So it really was the ideal situation. Now the day after Christmas was a different story. By that time, my brother and I were back to fighting over various things. But Christmas day was usually uneventful, peaceful.

I don't expect to have a white Christmas this year either. I'm heading back to North Carolina in a couple of weeks to spend the holidays with my family while Boyfriend goes to his family's house and hopefully visits me during the break. We have yet to spend Christmas or Thanksgiving with each other. Maybe someday. I'll come in to the middle of a flurry of preparations, my mother running around finishing decorating and trying not to let hte cats climb the tree, my aunt fussing over Christmas Eve prep and everyone asking everyone else what size they are and if the presents are returnable. Not even the snow could muffle that.

Smoking Weed before 9

Thought that would grab your attention. And no, I wasn't the one smoking. I was turning from Houston onto Mercer this morning, on my way to work in our 16 degree temperatures when it hit me. And I mean hit me. Like someone must have actually been smoking that very instant and letting the winter wind carry it down to those of us commuting on foot on the street. I was fascinated. I guess it's like being an alcoholic except a much more potent announcement to the world that you smoke before lunchtime. No Judgement! (haha)

I also realized I hadn't written in several days and since my life is so fascinating knew you would want to share in what's been happening. Boyfriend and I attended the NYC ballet's "Nutcracker" on Friday night, which is a fantastic version of it. The best I've ever seen. Really. It put me in the mood for Christmas, and with the trees in Lincoln Center all lit up and people milling around dressed up, I was set for Santa to land and give me something fabulous. We had this really nice weekend hanging out and waiting for the Snowstorm #1 to hit NYC. Which didn't happen. I woke up Monday morning to bright sunny skies and icy patches on the sidewalks- all of which I managed to hit with the winter sun in my eyes.

But it also made me realize how lucky I am. I am forced to get outside every day whether or not I like it, and generally for an extended period of time. There are no excuses to hide behind. I have to go to work, for one thing, and I have to walk to get there, unless I want a really complicated subway journey (which would also involve walking) So whether or not I like it, in snow, rain, or sun, I'm out there in the elements. And I can actually feel the positive affects on my life. I'm happier, my skin is rosier. I'm learning how to be on time for things (slowly, I'm sure Boyfriend would point out).

Also this week the MTA set up all new rules for Subway users, including no drinking, eating, taking up more than one seat with bags, going between cars, and jumping the turnstile (which I thought was a pretty obvious one). I imagine Starbucks is going to be hurting with these choices. No open containers on the trains. I'm fascinatd with two things- 1) Will the police of New York (because they have nothing to do??) have TIME to enforce these little rules and fine people and 2) Since a lot of times it's homeless people laying around and eating on trains, will they actually be able to fine them? I pointed out to a co-worker yesterday that it's not like they can be tracked down to an address- you know, sometimes that cardboard box on Mercer street, sometimes the alleyway between two buildings on Forty second. Think about THAT for a minute. And even if they could, I doubt they have the cash to pay off the $60-125 fines. So we'll have to see how long this one lasts.


In other news, they're filming a Bollywood movie on my street, and the trailers are taking up most of our neighborhood. Seriously. They have about a hundred parked in various spots making it very difficult for the normal pedestrians and cars to make it through. But I'm learning to deal with such idiosyncracies in New York. It's the way it works. People want to be filmed here, want to know what's going on in the city and spread that all over the world, apparently. maybe it truly is the greatest city in the world. Next to Paris, which will always be close to my heart. As will the smell of weed early on a Wednesday morning. Are there any excuses?

Preparing for Mock Hibernation

New York City is expecting its first real snow of the city this weekend. Highs are only going to be in the upper 30s and the wind chill is going to be ridiculously low compared to that. This morning when I stepped out of my apartment building, I was amazed and woken up by the beautiful blue skies, slight breeze, and crisp morning air. I picked up my Metro and walked to work, thinking that it wasn't really going to snow. How could it in such beautiful weather?

Which takes me back to my senior year of high school, where temperatures in North Carolina went into the 70s in January, breaking records for warmth. Then, a couple of weeks later, we got between 25 and 28 inches of snow. I had never seen anything like it, stepping out into the "yard" only to be encompassed by drifts that went above my head. Our puppy Coco didn't know what to do- the first time she went out she leapt into her yard the way she normally would and promptly disappeared into the snow, coming up gasping and literally swimming back towards us. i think I ended up on the ground laughing so hard.

But I feel like that now, waiting and anticipating the snow in the city, and accepting that it will take at least two feet of steady snow to give me a day off and shut down stores. Guess people won't be desperately running around buying Whole Foods out of milk and bread. No, here life will go on as normal, with longer walking times and more crowded subways and probably a lot more confused and cold tourists in mid-town. I'm not ready. Currently I feel like a tourist, timidly staring at the sky every time I leave my building, waiting for sign from God that the heavens are about to fall. I have one closet full of coats and boots and scarves now, so in that sense I'm prepared. No one tells you about the wardrobe changes you'll have to make just moving north a few hundred miles, but I feel better after considering what those poor people in Boston are up too. My friend E went to BU for her masters and told me all kinds of stories about the winter there, making me never want to live on the edge of the Atlantic. At least New York City is a little protected.

The Farmer's Almanac is predicting the coldest winter in 118 years, and I've been keeping a careful watch on trees and squirrel activity ever since, which is difficult considering there aren't a whole lot of either in the city, except up around Central Park. But the ones i have seen do seem to be running quite a few errands, I'm assuming preparing for the worst winter in 118 years. People often don't realize that the animals know long before we do what is going to happen to us and get ready for it. Eating a lot, hoarding a lot, and making a nice warm bed to curl up in. It makes me wonder why we don't do the same? I could handle lying in bed, watching Sex and the City and eating popcorn and peanuts for a few months. Maybe I would mix it up a little with cashews and almonds but the general idea would remain the same. I like that idea and don't understand why hours aren't at least shorter in the winter, say being at work at 10 and leaving at 3:30 or 4. Would the world really be a much worse place if we did that? I think not. I think it would actually make for happier people. Parents could take their children to school and be there afterwards to be with them, thus cutting back on daycare expenses, people could get more much needed sleep and not have to worry about staying up and watching Dave or Conan. You would have more time in daylight which would cut back on depression. There would be more time for family and for cooking real dinners, which would cut back on obesity and nutritional deficits in the human body. People would be able to avoid long lines at the bank and grocery store because the hours would be stretched in which they could be in either.

Yes, I can think of plenty of good reasons not to have 9-5 schedules during the winters. Maybe we should observe what nature is doing around us and think of why that's worked for the last several billion years. It's certainly not because we're leading the way.

American Airlines Frequent Flier Miles

I signed up for frequent flier miles. I somehow imagined I would be flying a lot more than I used to (which is true, to an extent) and would be able to get in some free air time as well. I could just see myself jetting off to Aspen for the weekend on AA's tab, enjoying skiing and snowboarding in snow, not ice, then jetting back in time to be at work on Monday morning. But it turns out that's not exactly how it works.

First of all, it's roughly 480 miles between here and North Carolina. I have flown down three times already since I moved up here with the idea of flying down again at Christmas time. So when you add up all the time I spend going back and forth between here and New York, I've already topped 2000 miles. Well, two thousand miles is practically enough to get me across the country. But will I be traveling out west? I don't think so. The reason? You have to fly enough miles annually to qualify for certain benefits. Well, I thought, there can't be that many miles involved. Because people who are a part of this only fly a certain amount per year, even with certain career choices that involve more miles than other. My boss, for instance, probably flies 40,000 miles a year, easy. He seems to be jetting all over the place for various meetings. When I was in high school I really wanted to travel for work, but watching him, I wonder if I really would like to spend that much time away from home. Maybe I'm less of a jet-setter than I imagined myself.

The second comes from being a part of this minimum mileage. It turns out that to truly benefit from frequent flier miles, you need to be hitting roughly 30k+ a year in the air on a particular airline. The difficulty with this comes if you're looking short term or long term. Short term, it's easier and less expensive to hunt around for the lowest fare. Sometimes that's American, sometimes it's not. The last two times I've flown, I've used one airline on the way down and another on the way up. I have now hit all the airlines that go between NC and NYC. Delta, US Air, American, United. I've done them all. The only one I probably haven't flown is JetBlue, but I'm not even sure if that goes to North Carolina, and after watching the Saturday Night Live satire of JetBlue, it makes me a little nervous to think about 35 cable channels but not such qualified pilots. Not that Amy Poehler knows EVERYTHING.

So at the rate I'm going now, it's going to be about 20 years before I qualify for the use of my frequent flier miles. This fascinates me endlessy. in Katherine world, the airlines would match the miles you physcially flew and let you start redeeming them whenever you wanted. But from a business perspective it would mean a lot of people flying for free, and with gas prices at an all time high (in the Americas) that makes no sense, either. But what it does mean is compromise, and I'm compromising by trying to be patient, and hoping that maybe someone else will pay for my plane ticket somewhere. Somehow. Even if it's just to Connecticutt.