The UPS Man

Every day we have the same guy come and pick up packages and deliver other ones to us. He whistles and sings and cheerfully loads our boxes full of books and F&Gs onto his handy cart and tugs them away to be sent to their destinations. Or not, as it turns out. The interesting thing about UPS is I always assumed the reason people sent things UPS was so they could track them all the way to their final destination, and that they could be signed for in order to make sure the receipient receieved them. Unfortunately this isn'tthe way UPS works. It turns out they're human, and they make mistakes, and packages get lost as a result.

I'm well aware there are dishonest people all over the place. I lived with one last year, content to lie about everything from laundry to using a handicap tag. So it probably shouldn't surprise me that somewhere in New Jersey, a UPS worker is tearing into other peoples packages and taking whatever seems nice. I guess it also shouldn't surprise me that there is a section on the UPS website where you are supposed to insure your packages to guarantee that they reach their destination in a timely manner or at all. I've never used this option. 1) because I wasn't fully aware of its purpose and 2) Isn't shipping something UPS kind of like insuring it?

Apparently not. It gets worse. The most expensive package I have ever been responsible for mailing out of htis office was lost, ad after a search (though I have my suspicions about how thorough it was) it has been declared lost in the system and I am supposed to claim it. Ironically, though, in claiming it, I am only going to receive $100 of the value of the items, which were really closer to five figures. So I'm in trouble, right? OR am I even at fault? Who is at fault? That's what happens when dealing with a huge company ilke UPS. You can't find someone to blame. Do I blame Man 1, who comes to our office every day and never forgets to ask us how our day is going? Do I blame N. at UPS, who is maybe 17 years old and obviously can't tell the difference between her ass and her elbow? Do I blame the scanning system in the Meadowlands which obviously sucks. Or do I just keep waiting and hoping it's going to turn up, somehow, someway.


Important lessons abound here. One, to know what you're mailing. I, acting as a robot, simply mailed a box, not knowing what it contained, and certainly unaware of the value. I like to think thathad I known the value I would have taken better care of it or something. Two, youc an't trust anyone. Really. For someoen in that warehouse to go tearing into other people's thingsb ecause they were angry about their own lives is just ridiculous. Three, what the hell is the point of UPS?

Wind Chill

is a much larger factor in the city than I had ever imagined it would be. I understand cold. Alaska is cold, Antartica is cold, the American settlers were idiots to fall for the "I'll give you land if you move to Minnesota" line. But New York, while it is supposed to be cold is, more than that, WINDY. And there is a big difference. North Carolina can drop into the twenties and teens without a doubt, but rarely does the windchill push it beyond a few degrees. Here it's normal for the temperature to be 32 and the wind chill to be 12. That seems a bit unGodly, doesn't it? Or is it just me and those Southern bones?

I'm beginning to understand splitting the year between LA and New York is a wonderful option for those with the money- i.e. movie stars and Donald Trump. It makes perfect sense because who the heck wants to be here? That makes no sense. I don't want to be here right now. I enjoy cold weather, it's crisp and refreshing and definitely wakes you up, but do NOT enjoy wind chills that push it in to the negative numbers or below. That's just ridiculous. Extraordinarily ridiculous. Today is definitely a day I could use a house in Key West or Southern Cali or even Texas. Seriously. I tried to do the numbers in my head for how much it woudl cost for me to take off the winter months each year and spend them elsewhere and it comes to not good. Unless my first novel is a bestseller. So maybe i should be working on that instead of contributing to internet goo every day.

I wonder how many other people out there started a blog because they were beginning to get bored with their jobs, and one day at work realized that they could share their misery along with good things in their life, with the world. Even as I sit here I imagine thousands of others doing the same thing- pretending theyre working when actually they're typing in their diary. It's like in high school when you would write notes to your friends instead of paying attention in history or whatever. I'm sure that could explain a lot of gpas.

The longer I'm a part of the working world the more I question its validity. Humans are only here for an average of 80 years. That means that you spend more than half your life working, if you begin at 18 and end at 65 or 70. Even after retirement people are still working. My aunt retired from teaching and immediately went to work at a book company. Yes, it's only part time but it's definitely still a job. I'm reluctant to think too hard about it because the thought of this being such an essential part of your existence is kind of awful, when you t hink about it. Unless you're really out there making a difference, what are you doing? We know doctors and lawyers and teachers and clinic workers and personal trainers are making a difference, but what about the rest of us who sit and type or file all day? How are we helping a greater cause?

Maybe I'll start looking into how I am affecting my own lifespan, and understanding greater things can come if I make them happen.

When Friends Come to Visit

I have friends in the city this weekend. My favorite thing about that is every one of my friends always begins by saying that they don't want to do anything too touristy. That they want to experience the "real" New York. Obviously that includes Urban Outfitters and H&M. THe funny thing about this is that I'm actually taking these things for granted at this point. I can go to those places all the time. Actually, more than that since usually I'm right beside one of hte other. The city seems to be run by these places. Clothing runs this city, in a lot of ways. It's much more important to be carrying a Coach bag than to have an actual apartment. Even the homeless people have nicer clothing than what you would think. Brands that I can't afford at this point. There's something about the status of clothing here that permeates the air.

It's difficult to explain when you don't live here. It's difficult to understand why a cashier at the Gristedes would spend her minimal paycheck on a pair of Seven jeans or Lacoste shirt, but I'm beginning to understand some of it. Movie stars of the fifties and sixties were required to sign actual contracts that stated they would always look good, that they would always be dressed to the nines with make-up and hair and wave and smile. You would never see them in their front yard picking up the newspaper in their bathrobe. Now when you look in US weekly or People you can see the stars coming from the gym in sweats or at the grocery store in a hoodie.

So we become used to living with these people, who are just that, with more popular jobs than we have. We become used to living in a magical world that doesn't seem real when you're not living in it. I'm always amazed when I go home how different it feels now. People driving in their cars to houses with yards and dogs, people mowing and washing cars and arguing over whether or not it's going to rain. Here people argue over who they see, if that guy really was Jason Bateman, if the woman with the baby was someone on the rise. Which means that when friends come to visit, it is only made more solid the kind of world you live in living in NYC. It truly is the most different experience you could ever have in the United States. I feel inspired.

And when they leave, you are left exhausted but with a renewed appreciation for things you had forgotten were really nice- a dog in a ridiculous sweater, the vendi man who knows who you, the chess match that goes on in Washington Square park nearly every weekend. It makes you more aware than ever of why you are living here instead of everywhere else.

Ring Of Fire

I headed up to Broadway last night, on the tickets of one of my friends who has the best connections in this city, especially since she's only been here a few months. We went to see "Ring of Fire", sat about four rows from the stage, and listened to Johnny Cash's life in song, literally. It was wonderful.This very small cast of talented country singers who had gathered together with a very simple set and learned about how much he had absorbed through his very difficult life. They gave a small biography of him in the playbill and it talked about how much he had adored his wife. And he only lived a few months after she died, which I thought was kind of nice.

My mother called last night to tell me that one of her hometown favorites had died yesterday. Her husband died back in November and when Mama saw her, said she had never looked better (for 93). But she passed soon after. Which goes back to the connection we develop with the ones we love or the ones we grow old with. It always impresses me to hear about that, to hear and understand that love is so deep it becomes physical. Yes, her body wwas getting close to giving out and a massive stroke has more to do with the mind than heart, but it still works with everything that is full circle in this world.

Johnny Cash was very much like that. He had all kinds of problems with drinking and drugs and traveling all over the country, but in the end it came down to how he felt about June Carter Cash, and how she supported him through the roughest of times and the best, something that makes me happy for them both, that they found each other when everything else is uncertain in this world. No one guarantees that you're going to find the right person to be with for your entire life. There is no guarantee that you truly will stick it out for better or for worse,but they did. I think it gives the rest of us hope.

Star spotting? Tyne Daly, Cynthia Nixon, Nathan Lane. All coming out of their productions. I spoke to Cynthia Nixon.

Bleaders?

I'm reading Julie & Julia book- about Julie someone cooking her way through the JC Mastering the Art of French COoking in a year, and blogging about it. The blog became a huge hit, and she got a book deal out of it and tons of dedicated readers and TV interviews. Which leads me to wonder about the principles of blogging. Why are we typing out so much of our personal lives on these things, sending it out into the world as if it's not private (when very often it is). Who knows who reads mine. I don't get that many comments, so I'm assuming hardly anyone, but it's an interesting concept. It's fascinating to think about why we do it. To get publicity? Most people are actually trying to get away from that. To pique the interest of someone new and maybe foreign? What do we have to blog about that's so damn important and interesting?

I started this back in August of 05, so I haven't been blogging that long, but I have read plenty of entertaining blogs. Blogs about the life of truck driver, updated about every 15 minutes. Blogs about a woman working as a partner in a law firm, though I heard somewhere that her i.d. was discovered and she was fired. Blogs about wedding planning and cleaning and going through med school. Just general blogs about people's lives. Online diaries that we feel obliged to write in on a semi-daily level and that we treat with the upmost respect. I can't go very long without writing something in mine, even if I have to rack my brain to think of something interesting I've done in New York recently. did I mention I finally saw Ground Zero? Or that I was finally going to a Broadway play tonight? Didn't think so. But I'm sure I've told plenty of stories about stepping in dog poop and not being able to flag down a cab. Or about cabbies who preferred to drive me around in circles rather than take me to my final destination.

In 4th grade, I carried my diary around with me- it was one of those cheap pleather numbers with a page for each day and a lock that inevitably would come unglued. I used it as an actual diary as well as for conversations with my best friend during classes. What happened was that one day in gym class, one of my classmates found it and he managed to read about half of it out loud to an appropriately amused audience until I finally realized what was going on and put a stop to it. I can still feel the way I felt then right now, and trust me it wasn't pretty. I yelled and screamed and cried and actually got excused from the rest of gym class so that I could go and cry in the bathroom with two of my friends to comfort me. I have always been a private person. One of the reasons I made friends so quickly when I got to college is that no one could figure out anything about me. Everything was a mystery.

Yet here I am blogging about it years later, in a place that is incredibly public and not unlike something in 1984. But here i am anyway, putting it out there "anonymously", supposedly.

Job Burn-out

In Europe, most employers guarantee a month of holiday time along with all national holidays and bank holidays. They work shorter hours and weeks and yet get more done than Americans do and have time to spend 3 hours at dinner in the evenings. THey walk their children to school, take long lunches, and come back refreshed and ready to focus their time and energy again. Why don't we do this? Why am I only given an hour lunch per day and two weeks of vacation time per year? Why is our maternity leave shorter by eight to ten months than European maternity leaves? And they wonder why we suffer higher turnovers and less job satisfaction.

In the perfect world you would show up to work refreshed because you didn't have to be there until later, because you would never dream of taking your work home with you or working overtime, and because you just came off a month long holiday in the French Riviera. You would take longer Christmas breaks and when you decided to have a baby, take advantage of the full year's maternity leave that comes with that, so you would really get to know your baby and go back to work satisfied that you were making the right decisions for yourself and your baby. You would take two hour lunches on a regular basis and be there to retrieve your children after school and walk them home. You would pick up dinner from the market on the way home.

Instead I'm working a forty hour week (average) and taking one hour lunch breaks. I'm tired and burned out but can't take any vacation days right now because I want to make sure and have enough this summer when I go on vacation- for one week. I'm beginning to wonder if it's the job wearing down on me but then dont want to know because there aren't that many jobs out there for recent college grads right now and I'm lucky to have anything at all. I spend my days working myself as hard as I can, then get to the gym and home to cook dinner and take care of my little cat. I am mindless after work, able to sit in front of the TV or read awful novels before literally passing out in bed and waking up the next morning to NPR just to do it all over again. I've begun counting down the days until Friday, hoping the week will go fast enough to prevent me from having to deal with anything at all.

How do you know when it's time for a career change or when you're just tired and need a break? What are the signs that you should start hunting for other job opportunities versus sitting in an office all day waiting for something to change?

A Case of the Mondays

I arrived back in New York yesterday afternoon, just before sunset. Flying in, we had to circle through Conneticutt because of air traffic and I really got to see the layout of the burroughs. It was actually kind of neat to fly over people's beach homes and see where the US Open is played and be so close to Manhattan all at the same time. I'm actually really impressed with how it's handled. When I got in and called the car service I was forced to stand outside, holding Lucy uncomfortably in the freezing air. The saddest part about this weekend was that it was just as cold in North Carolina as it was in New York.

Friday night, because of the weather, my flight got delayed three times and more than four hours. It was the most ridiculous thing I've been through in quite some time. They kept changing their minds, telling us one minute the plane was on the ground we were just waiting for crew, and the next minute the plane hadn't even been able to take off from Boston because of the wind. I was disappointed to arrive too late to really spend much time with my newly married friend J, who was providing me with her new and unused guest room, thrilled to have someone other than family and her friend M staying there. It was actually really cozy. THey've done a ton with the house since I had last seen it and were definitely in the newly wed phase. It was darling. Just like in middle school, my mom came and picked me up in the morning, which was kind of funny.

I spent hte rest of the weekend going through more of my North Carolina belongings and trying to sort out what I do and do not need in my life. I picked out more things to give away and get rid of, which is always a ncie feeling. My parents are trying to hang on to a lot of my stuff, since they think that any minute I'm moving back. Which I hate to let them know is definitely wrong. I love it up here. Being down there is relaxing and I'm not saying I won't want to ever go back, but being up here is the place for me right now. Evenw iththe price of everything, it's so nice to not hav eto worry about driving anywhere or being stuck in the snow or even being continually harassed by my parents. Which were all things I had to put up with when I lived in North Carolina.

But everywhere you go there are certain elements that will make it difficult or challenging to live in. In France, you can't find processed foods hardly anywhere unless you're in a large city. In New York, no one can afford to own an apartment or a car. In North Carolina, people watch their trees disappear daily and live with Republiicans and very active anti-everything Christian groups. There are things I definitely don't miss about North Carolina. But there were some nice things as well, like being able to drive up to the lake whenever I felt like it, and being only a few hours from a really nice beach.

Not that anything like that matters today, when I'm at work and trying to find things to do since most people have today off for President's day. Must be nice to be given federal holidays. Isn't there some sort of law against this or something that I can bring up to my boss? Like we have to have the holidays because it's an American freedom or something? I'll have to look into that with my next job, making sure I get plenty of days off!

Preparing to Leave

I'm flying back to NC this weekend to pick up an animal. A cat, to be precise. A gray tabby who was found underneath our house over Christmas and is about to become homeless if I don't rescue her. Her name is Lucy. She weighs 5 pounds. She is adorable. And I can't wait to bring her back to my tiny NYC apartment, in the hopes that she'll settle into life living indoors. Last night I spent almost two hours setting up things for her. Toys, litter box, scratching post, bed, food and water bowls. I have her carrier packed in my suitcase and am ready to get her ready to go. Tonight I'm picking up food for her. My parents have her vet records ready to go.

It's funny how once you have animals in your life, it's hard to go to a life without them. Suddenly it seems very boring and ordinary. I can't imagine not being around animals. some people think it's cruel to keep them locked up in little bitty apartments, but from what I've seen, most of them don't mind it. They like their space and learn to appreciate the view from a window. Both of these elements are very important in learning about them. I can only hope that the same will be true of this kitten, that she won't mind not being able to wander in the great outdoors or even have various rooms to travel through. Someday, but not now.

The Big Mess

The City has become a complete mess this morning. I woke up after a wonderful Valentine's day evening to find a slushy mess to wade through in order to get to work. 27 inches of melting snow in an already fairly dirty city is not the most ideal combination. Really. It's hard to imagine what everything will look like when the snow completely melts down. I used to think that snow was like a detergent, that it covered everything up long enough to clean it up and then when it melted left behind everything new. It made sense to my elementary mind. Snow melts, flowers bloom. Clearly the earth was cleaning itself up. of course that can't work in a city of pavement and brick. So I wonder what it does for the city?

It seemed to produce a sense of comraderie on Sunday. Walking around in the snow, people were cheerful, calling out to each other as they waded through the nearly waist high snow. The guy at the corner store let me come in with a dog and didn't make me pay the full price for the orange juice and Sunday Times I picked up. People scooted out of Dog's way as I walked back to my apartment and I said hi to everyone who actually said it back. Very unusual turn of events. On Sunday Night, the NYUers were out in full force, partying and calling it a snow night. I remember those days from college, where snow meant it was a party, especially if there were a good chance school would be canceled the next day. We were willing to walk in the snow to get to Sigma Nu, but much less inclined to head towards English or History the next day.

Here, Monday was a regular workday for most of the city. We walked and managed to pull ourselves through the crowded sidewalks, exhausted by the time we reached work. Work was much more laid back, and has continued to be so through the week. With everything such a mess, most people dont want to wear nice clothes, especially if they're just going to get dirty. Everything becomes more casual. People here just accept there is nothing they can do about the mess until the snow is gone, and a part of the New York winter is literally washed away before their eyes. The dogs love it, dashing through the snow and sending up a spray of flakes everytime they make a quick turn. Everything about the city works differently when it is covered with a blanket of quiet, and for once, peace.

The Big Mess

The City has become a complete mess this morning. I woke up after a wonderful Valentine's day evening to find a slushy mess to wade through in order to get to work. 27 inches of melting snow in an already fairly dirty city is not the most ideal combination. Really. It's hard to imagine what everything will look like when the snow completely melts down. I used to think that snow was like a detergent, that it covered everything up long enough to clean it up and then when it melted left behind everything new. It made sense to my elementary mind. Snow melts, flowers bloom. Clearly the earth was cleaning itself up. of course that can't work in a city of pavement and brick. So I wonder what it does for the city?

It seemed to produce a sense of comraderie on Sunday. Walking around in the snow, people were cheerful, calling out to each other as they waded through the nearly waist high snow. The guy at the corner store let me come in with a dog and didn't make me pay the full price for the orange juice and Sunday Times I picked up. People scooted out of Dog's way as I walked back to my apartment and I said hi to everyone who actually said it back. Very unusual turn of events. On Sunday Night, the NYUers were out in full force, partying and calling it a snow night. I remember those days from college, where snow meant it was a party, especially if there were a good chance school would be canceled the next day. We were willing to walk in the snow to get to Sigma Nu, but much less inclined to head towards English or History the next day.

Here, Monday was a regular workday for most of the city. We walked and managed to pull ourselves through the crowded sidewalks, exhausted by the time we reached work. Work was much more laid back, and has continued to be so through the week. With everything such a mess, most people dont want to wear nice clothes, especially if they're just going to get dirty. Everything becomes more casual. People here just accept there is nothing they can do about the mess until the snow is gone, and a part of the New York winter is literally washed away before their eyes. The dogs love it, dashing through the snow and sending up a spray of flakes everytime they make a quick turn. Everything about the city works differently when it is covered with a blanket of quiet, and for once, peace.

Blizzard of 2006

We have broken our record for snow. We have surpassed the 1947 record of 26.4" with a new one of 26.9". And yet New York goes on. nothing shut down, really, it just became more inconvienient. Laguardia closed, making for a very unpleasant night for many passengers who had expected to leave NYC yesterday. I was dog-sitting and the owner called to say that she wouldn't be coming back in until today, which meant bringing this dog and her "luggage" to work with me. I played outside for a bit yesterday, but have to say that I can tell the magic of snow in my childhood has changed considerably. I no longer have to spend hours and hours outside to fulfill my desire to feel that cold precipitation on my face. I'm perfectly happy to watch from inside my cozy apartment. Yesterday I spent almost the whole day indoors, reading the Sunday Times and watching "Sex and the City".

What was great about it was that I have now survived record breaking heat and snow and still love this place. I love living in a city where everything I want or need is mine for the taking. Where I can ski or surf and really enjoy the four seasons. Now I know what New Englanders mean when they say they love their seasons too much to leave. North Carolina definitely has winter but there is never a guarantee of more than a few flakes, and we've never had a white Christmas that I could remember. I moved up here without any true expectations. Because I didn't have those expectations, I can appreciate what has come about during my move and what I have learned about myself. Never before would I have dreamed of going to work with a 12 degree windchill. Now it's becoming not an every day thing but definitely a common thing- something that I have to do.

It makes me feel more a part of the city to be involved in things like this, to be able to say that I was there when the snow started falling. Boyfriend took me to my favorite restaurant- Cafe 123 (Un, Deux, Trois) on Saturday night for our Valentine's Day celebration, and we were walking through the snow in mid-town and laughing and talking- I swear it was something surreal that we live here and everything we do here seems to have a magical ring to it. Everything seems different when you're doing it in NYC. Even going to movies. Maybe it's because everythign is so damn expensive but whatever it is, it definitely works.

I think back to UNC quite a bit, but am much happier away from there. Some people consider the college years to be the best years of your life, but for me I'm thinking it's going to be the years I'm living right now, surrounded by friends in a new place that hasn't lost its charm for me. I'm almost hurt when people talk about how glad they're not living in the city anymore, when Gwyneth Paltrow calls the Village "Disneyland". I can't imagine not loving this place for how much it has evolved and yet remained the same. Only now under about 3 feet of snow.

Women On Drugs

This morning on CBS, a "new" report released says that women are more likely to become addicted to drugs and alcohol than men. They are also more likely to get depressed, gain weight, and struggle with self-esteem issues. Being a woman is a wonderful thing, isn't it? Not only are we expected to make sure the population continues, we're also more susceptible to just about every illness you can think of with the exception of testicular cancer. What I am also impressed with is that it's taken the FDA, or the AMA, or whoever, this long to figure out that the stress women are placed under every day affects their ability to function within society. Examples like Susan Smith and Andrea Yates are extreme, but there are thousands of other mothers out there who begin their day by making their children breakfast and then popping a pill to make sure they can carry on. There are thousands of other mothers who drink themselves to sleep at night and develop eating disorders and depression trying to carry the weight of an entire family on their backs.

I'm surprised that this comes as a surprise. They've found that addiction is more prominent in very transitional stages of life, such as adolescence, beginning a family, empty nesting, and other important places. These are times when women are expected to cope with everything from how their children and husband feel to how they are going to manage the physical aspects of feeding and raising their children. It's no wonder that life seems a little easier on Prozac or Xanax. I wonder if this can explain other happenings in the world as well. How many wars, battles, etc have been affected by a woman on a rampage, or a woman who was listless, or one who hadn't been eating lately. I wonder how many wars could have been prevented had someone noticed that the wife of the president, the prime minister, or whoever was depressed and helped them in whatever way possible. It was sad to hear that once we are addicted we're most likely going to stay that way.

I lived with a roommate last year who was a drug and alcohol addict. She popped prescription pills like there was no tomorrow, followed by bottles of wine and her drink of choice- vodka tonics- and on more than one occasion was kicked out of a bar or picked up late at night and dropped off at our house. I remember thinking that if her parents would only really take a look at their daughter they would see what was happening. In a "cofessional" mood, she told me that alcoholism ran in her family. Yet her stepfather was literally mailing her drug samples (he worked for a pharmaceutical company). It was one of the oddest and most educational experiences I have ever had. The pain and suffering she was going through must have been phenomenal to justify her actions. When I finally gave up trying to help her and instead tried to evict her she became angry, withdrawn, and her parents would not believe that their little girl was destroying her liver and her future with controlled and uncontrolled substances.

Sometimes it's that denial that leads to tragedy. In the case of Andrea Yates, her husband was well aware that she suffered from deep depression and yet kept pressuring her to have his children- at the expense of her sanity. Empress Sissi of Vienna suffered from anorexia and depression most of her life but was ignored except when she had to make appearances for the court. Virginia Woolf actually commited suicide shortly after finishing her last novel, explaining that while she adored her husband it simply wasn't enough. I wonder if these women had addictions that were aided or thwarted by the people in their lives. Now we know that depression is not as difficult to get under control as once thought. We know that eating disorders need and deserve treatment. We know that alcoholics must vow never to take another sip. We know that people who are addicted to Percoset must not be prescribed other painkillers.

So why don't we use this knowledge? Why do we always assume that people can recover on their own? I haven't seen my roommate in close to a year now, and have no idea what has happened to her, but do know that if she continues the way she did when she lived with me, she doesn't have a chance. The same goes for the anorexic and bulimic girls at the gym who claim they don't have a problem, just a fast metabolism. Instead of looking at what's real, we seem to prefer the masks, prefer not to hear the truth and live with the idea that most people are "normal". Which is why news like "women are more easily addicted to drugs and alcohol" brings a gasp.

International Agenda

The Olympic opening ceremonies begin tomorrow night. It will probably be watched by more than 50 million viewers, and then we will stay tuned for the next couple of weeks as the best athletes from every country in the world competes to be the best in the world. Even countries that are starving or communist or don't have electricity pull together enough money to fund sending an amazing team of athletes to compete against places like Russia and the US and Canada, who have plenty of money and goods to train for this event constantly. I think back to the time of Ceaser, when he proclaimed that games would be played for 160 days straight. One hundred and sixty days, he expected all the citizens of Rome to come out and wrestle, run, leap and challenge each other. This was, of course, a ploy to distract from the possibility that maybe he wasn't such a great leader, but it was still an important part of the development of the Olympic games.

Now they are played every two years- Summer and Winter, in cities that begin fighting for them a decade or more in advance, and then spend millions preparing to hold people from literally every place you can think of. Italy has it this year, and I like to think that it truly does promote world peace. Whenever I think back to what I have heard about the 1972 Olympics and the Steven Spielburg movie that came out about it "Munich" I worry that if we continue the fight we are having with the Middle East, some incident of that sort will happen again. It's frightening to think about how world politics could affect something that at face value seems to be about the strength of the body and grit of the mind, events that are symbolic of the limits one can push one's self to achieve a dream, a goal. I wonder if it's genetic or if we are all born with the capability of pushing ourselves and then lose it as some things become easier and others become more difficult and are eventually dropped. Thinking about how to become something great is overwhelming, so I prefer to look at it as a chance to push myself in a way that is beneficial to everyone around me.

I would love to attend the Olympics at some point. They were in Atlanta in 1996 but I was too young then to appreciate the meaning behind the Olympics. And, since there was a bomber there, it wasn't as successful a message as I'm sure the committee wanted. Whenever people think about the 1996 summer Olympics, I guarantee you they can barely remember the names of the people who won gold, but they can remember the incident that killed several people and injured more in Olympic park, the incident that would lead our country into a fear of terrorism, a fear that most people didn't even realize they had until September 11, 2001. I was actually reading an article last night that wondered whether, eventually, people would begin celebrating it as a holiday or rememberance. If it would suddenly mean that banks and post offices would be closed on the second Monday of September, schools would have two three-day weekends in a row. It seems sad, but isn't that what we have done when we "remember" Martin Luther King, Jr., or Memorial Day? Isn't that all about tragedies that have become immortal through Hallmark and the American government. I'm not saying they're working together, but card companies always seem to jump on that sort of thing. As a joke once, Boyfriend gave me a card congratulating me on becoming an American citizen.

Hopefully, as the winter Olympics span global TV networks and we silently cheer from our couch or chair for Michelle Kwan or Andy Finch or any of the other amazing athletes that will exhibit their skill on the ice and in the snow, we can move away from the view of foreigners as foreigners and instead marvel that during a time when civil and international wars rage across our world, we can break for a few weeks to push and cheer for our own as well as other countries athletes.

New York Agenda

Between working on my education and working full time, I feel like I haven' had the time or energy to explore what makes New York fabulous. I haven't seen a broadway show since I've been up here, haven't even entered Saks or Tiffany's, and don't know anything about Wall Street. The fruits of my labor are just that, that I come home to my apartment and spend lots of time in it because a) I'm tired and b) I'm paying a lot for it. Guess the cold setting in hasn't been much help.

It's fascinating what a difference living here and visiting here hold. Living here I'm unsure of what is going on outside my own little couple of blocks, uncertain about whether or not there is a parade (most likely there is), the circus is in town, or some awesome rock band. I wake up in the morning, come out into the EXTREMELY CRISP cold air, and walk to work, eat lunch back at my apartment and then head home after work. Sometimes I do other things- meet up with people for drinks, go out to dinner, catch a movie at the Angelika. And that's what I like most about living here. Is my schedule is totally flexible. I'm not going to have to drive an hour to see a friend, or really plan in advance going somewhere. Even leaving town for a weekend can be an impulsive decision. There are trains and planes and automoblies all waiting to take your money and send you somewhere wonderful. But not as wonderful as Manhattan.

I think I wouldn't have enjoyed growing up here, being without a yard and tons of dogs and cats and horses around me, being without fields to hide in or carpools to school. But I'm glad I'm here now and glad I can consider raising my own family here when I get to that point. I'm glad I'm in a place in my life where I'm happy not being married and working full time and really looking forward to the weekends. It's helped me appreciate the time when I will settle down and fully share my life with someone and when I will get older and maybe be able to take more time off to explore the world around me.

Yesterday one of my friends sent around one of those surveys that you do when you're stuck at a desk all day in an office that barely knows your name. I was bored, completed it and sent it all out, and received it back from most of my friends. What was best about it, though, was that we all had essentially the same things to say about what we would do if timea nd money weren't issues in our lives. We would all travel the world, helping others who were less fortunate. This thrilled me on several levels, but mostly because it means we haven't lost sight of where we belong in our lives. Right here, right now.

Homework

For some reason I imagined that having been out of school would have inspired me to go back full force, to throw myself on the mercy of my professors and always be on top of assignment deadlines. I imagined finally making effortless straight As because I tried harder. But already I'm floundering and I'm only a few weeks in. I find myself too tired after work to study and sneaking in homework during breaks while at work or when I appear to be doing things. It's interesting that now that I'm actually interested in school is when I'm struggling the most to get everything out of it that I want.

For most people this isn't such a huge problem. They either want to be in school or they don't, want to be working or they don't. But it appears that my brain is a little confused about what it wants in this life. Do I want to be a student, a professional, or maybe a homeless person? They seem to have very full lives for living without most of the material goods we take for granted. I imagine myself able to handle anything that comes my way. With optimism. Which is how I intially approached the GRE. Yes, I struggled with the SAT. Yes, I had a terrible time working my way through standardized tests in the past. But it seemed to fall to me to get through this in better shape. I was taking a class for it, tutoring and I was going to score high.

But the class is discouraging. I'm sure they don't mean to be, but I find that once I'm no longer in the flourescently lit box of a room, I can't remember what the heck my teacher said to me about back solving or angles or anything else. I fare better in the verbal section, as I have fared better verbally a good part of my life. So let's see how I can improve my not so great math skills.

The Human Body

It's an amazing thing, really. That we work theway we do. Humans carry one of the most efficient life systems in the world. We recycle our own blood every minute, and our heart pumps consistently for decades. Yesterday Boyfriend and I went to check out the Bodies: The Exhibition at South Street Seaport. I'm lucky that he has the foresight (sometimes) to get things in advance, so we didn't even have to wait in the line, which wasn't that bad when we went in, but was SO LONG when we came out. We went right in and started checking out organs and bodys that were preserved through Silicone Polymer, a different process than the general formaldehyde. The bodies are preserved, dehydrated in a vacuum, then prepared for dissection. You saw literally every blood vessel, every artery every MUSCLE you use. We saw hundreds of different diseases and cancers, and they even had a room dedicated to fetal development and problems. To say the least, I thought it was the most wonderful thing to finally see what happens inside when you have lung cancer or a stroke or are playing basketball or conducting a symphony. Seeing the muscles all working together like that really makes you consider how amazing the human form is. What also impressed me quite a bit was seeing how generous people were. These people gave their bodies to science. Instead of having a funeral or destroying or doing anything of that sort, they gave their bodies and trusted the scientists to preserve and display them in a respectful way. Which the curators of the exhibit did. It amazed me even more that people were willing to give their fetuses to the project. To lose a child halfway through pregnancy or conjoined twins and still have the insight to give them to be viewed and looked at as marvels seems to me to be the epitome of what being a mother is about. I hope that the people who suffered some of the horrific miscarriages or diseases went on to have healthy children because in my eyes they had an understanding of what it is to bring a human life into this world.

We don't think enough about what our body does, or how sensitive it is to environmental changes. Walking through and seeing diseases that had affected my family for years (particularly cancer and stroke) and seeing how that changed the way organs worked, seeing the spleen enlarged from mono (as mine was my freshman year of college), seeing the brain after a stroke, were all really wonderful things. Not that any of those happenings are good, but it makes a difference to see how it works and how you can prevent it. It was a great lesson for people who think they are immune to so much of this stuff. What also impressed me was how much beauty the inner body held. Who would have guessed that when your vessels and arteries are seperated from your body they look like coral? Everything brightly colored and connected to form a shape that only resembles what you are from the inside out. One room only held that and I loved it. It looked very much like art, like sculpture that happens to be in the shape of an organ. I also didn't realize where everything was located and how tiny some of the most important organs are. The uterus is even smaller than my fist, the stomach long and slim instead of short and round the way I expected it to be. The achilles tendon stretched further than I ever would have expected it too. I also developed a much more clear understanding of why our bones are so important, of why almost every vital organ is in the same place.

After going through the exhibit, We walked around the area a bit before heading allthe way to the other end of Fulton street and to Ground Zero. I hadn't been there yet, and truthfully that was the only AMerican tragedy I have ever been so affected by. Standing at the edge of this gaping whole, looking at the remains of what were the two tallest buildings in the city and for that matter two of the tallest in the country was another awe-inspiring experience. Considering how closely packed in things are that far downtown it is a miracle that anything survived the planes crashing into the buildings. I almsot cried again, remembering what it felt like to watch the first tower burn and then the scream that emitted from my lungs when another plane crashed into the second tower. I may as well have been there, shaking and crying because I knew, deep down that nothing would ever be the same. And it hasn't been. Everything is now about living in fear of what people who's faces we cannot identify may do to us or our country at any given point. And while my heart is overseas my body is here and I certainly don't want any more tragedy coming about because of the selfishness of humanity.

That was in itself another good reason to see all those bodies on display. Those people had given themselves up to be viewed and put on display all over the world. It just seems fitting to develop a better understanding of the life cycle so close to the site where so many lives were lost.

Sick Day

I'm not sure if it was something I ate, or straining my back yesterday packing up the show, but I woke up this morning feeling terrible. Literally. My whole body aching, stomach hurting, head blasting, even eyes hurting. I got myself up, ate something because I thought it would make me feel better and got dressed, only to realize there was no way I was getting out of here anytime soon. I haven't hurt this much in a really long time. So now I have taken my first sick day and it's only three days into the month of February. Go figure. But because I'm just a little bit of an overachiever I've decided that as soon as my head is under control I'm doing the Kaplan homework. All of it. Really. Because if I'm wasting a day at home it better be useful here at least. Laundry, cleaning, napping, excercising, everything I can think of to fix how horrible I feel right this second.

I'm even writing, if you're reading this, and wondering what happened to my resolve. I thought, when I took this job that I would do everything in my power to not take a sick day, to always show up on time, and to quit shopping and save some damn money. So far at least a few of those NYC resolutions were going well but have now been overpowered and shot to hell by the shopping and now the sick day. It feels weird to not be at work mid-morning on a Friday. I don't have a boring job. Actually, for the most part I really like my job, but everyone can use a day off. When I was in college, I would take one off at the slightest implication- too sunny, too cloudy, too warm, too cold. THere were always reasons not to go to class. Of course hindsight is 20/20 and I realize that it may not have hurt me to head into class more, and would probably have really helped my GPA. I thought this would change once I was working a forty-hour week and realizng how much harder you have to work in the real world than in most school programs. Maybe not so much using your mind in various ways but in time spent sitting at a desk and in adjusting to a much more inflexible schedule. No wonder so many women elect to be stay-at-home moms once they start a family. Otherwise you're screwed the next time little Johnny needs to leave school in the middle of the afternoon.

So it's really a balancing task to understand where things have to change. I'm still working on adjusting to the different ways "grown-ups" live. Still learning what it's like to go to work, the gym, THEN come home and have to cook and clean and do fun things crammed into a twelve hour period before you have to wake up and do it all again.

The Nothing Weekend Idea

You know how sometimes you get those weekends where there is NOTHING to do? I don't mean in a negative way, I mean in a i-don't-have-plans-and-can-do-what-I-want way. That's what my original idea of this upcoming weekend was. I thought that I wouldn't make plans and would spend hte majority of it in bed sleeping off the NYC Gift Show i just finished. I figured I'd do laundry, my homework, and then be refreshed and ready to tackle the next couple of weeks which promise to be stressful. It didn't occur to me before that having a job and going to school would be as much work as it is. But it is.

In other ways, I take it as a positive that I had so much to fill my weekend up with. After the nothing idea was shot to hell, I figured Boyfriend and I could go and visit the Bodies exhibit that's going on at South Street Seaport and has 22 actually human bodies along with 260+ human body parts. I was psyched for that, as well. Then I remembered I had RSVP'd to an ADPi alum brunch on Saturday morning, all the way uptown and knew I would never be able to fit in both without breaking my neck getting to the other end of the island. So I decided we could do it on Sunday especially if it was pretty. And, since neither of us has seen Ground Zero yet I thought I'd make it a sightseeing day. Of course that was cut out when we realized Sunday was the Superbowl and my friend B is planning a really huge thing for it that I definitely want to go to.

Which left us with Friday night to do something fun. Until I realized that B's birthday party was Friday night and I certainly couldn't miss that. So now the weekend is packed, sleep is most likely limited, and I imagine that I'll spend a good amount of time staring at a computer screen adn trying to get through the Kaplan homework. But you got to love the city. WHere there never has to be such a thing as a "nothing" weekend.