dichuy

Catching My Breath

2009-05-26T18:27:00.008-05:00

During lunchtime today in front of Penn Station there was a man playing a steel drum. Whenever I hear steel drums it reminds me of Disney World's Magic Kingdom.

All through the 70s there was a group of steel drums that played a few shows every day right across from the Swiss Family Treehouse. We usually caught at least one show each day whenever we were there, which was often.

I stopped for a moment to listen. I closed my eyes and could hear the music from the treehouse. I could hear the drums that play outside of the Tiki Room. I could hear the boats loading at the Jungle Cruise. I could hear the crowds all around me. For a few minutes my eyes stung; I was right there.

It never stops amazing me how certain songs, sounds, or smells can take me right back to a place and time. It is so powerful it can cause me to catch my breath.

Bus Bitching

2008-12-14T17:29:00.003-05:00

I just don't get it. You have been standing in this line for the bus for at least 10 minutes. Why then, when you finally board the bus and get to the driver, do you wait until THEN to go digging around in your purse for your MetroCard? Don't worry about the rest of us standing behind you in the line getting soaked. Really. Take all the time you need.

THE Christmas Tree

2008-12-13T21:24:00.004-05:00

Friends of mine were going to see "The Little Mermaid" on Broadway tonight and asked if I would join them for dinner before the show. We went to Virgil's on 44th Street; yum.

I decided to walk up a few blocks to Rockefeller Center and see the tree now they have turned on the lights. I had been by right after Thanksgiving--the tree was there but it was surrounded by all sorts of stuff while they put the lights on it. It is a pretty impressive tree: 72 feet tall and weighing at at 8 tons. The tree is from Hamilton, New Jersey where it was planted nearly 80 years ago. Here is information on the tree from Rockefeller's Web page:
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The Christmas tree that adorns Rockefeller Center is typically a Norway Spruce. The minimum requirement is that the tree be 65 feet tall and 35 feet wide, however manager of Rockefeller Center gardens prefers the tree be between 75 and 90 feet tall and proportionally wide. Norway Spruce that grow in forests don't typically reach these proportions, so the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree tends to be one that was ornamentally planted in someone's front or back yard. There is no compensation offered in exchange for the tree, other than the pride of having donated the tree that appears in Rockefeller Center.

Over five miles of lights are used to decorate the tree every year. Only the lights and the star decorate the tree. The tree is recycled and the 3 tons of mulch are donated to the Boy Scouts. The largest portion of the trunk is donated to the U.S. Equestrian team in New Jersey to use as an obstacle jump.
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Yes, impressive. But you know what goes through my mind every year when I see it? "Nice, but it could be bigger." Maybe because it is placed in that large, open area but it just seems small. I wish they kept the lights turned on all night. I would love to go down there in the wee small hours of the morning and stand next to it, without all those tourists, while the snow comes down and makes everything so quiet. I'm sure it would then seem very, very big.

F*ck TBS

2008-11-15T21:53:00.003-05:00

I love Christmas. I love Christmas shows. But NOT BEFORE THANKSGIVING YOU ASSHOLES!

TBS just showed "How the Grinch Stole Christmas". It is NOVEMBER 15TH!!!!!!

I believe that Christmas decorations and stuff should go up the day after Thanksgiving when Santa rides down Broadway signaling the end of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. I slowly got use to Christmas decorations going up before turkey day. But lately they even have stuff up before Halloween is over. WTF?

OK, I'm finished. I just had to get that off my chest. TBS, you suck.

The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round

2008-11-15T21:20:00.003-05:00

I had dinner last night in Chelsea with a friend. We went to Salsa y Salsa, just short of a hole in the wall with surprisingly good food. I took the bus home. Lately I have found myself taking the bus more and more over the subway. I like looking out the windows.

I took the 23rd Street crosstown to the 3rd Avenue bus. Once on the 101 going up 3rd I settled in reading my New York Magazine up near the front of the bus. At 34th Street a group got on, and I looked up when I heard one of them mumble as he walked to the back, "Is this the bus to Europe? Boy, it sure is warm on this bus." Did I hear that right? Europe??? Ah, no dude, this is only going to get you to Harlem, sorry. I went back to my magazine.

Somewhere around 55th Street I realize the man sitting across the aisle and up one seat is talking. It's the Mumbling Guy. He's about 60, dressed ok, and reading the New York Times. Not your typical crazy person. He keeps talking about how hot it is. He says, "Maybe I should undress it's so hot in here," while he unbuttoned his top shirt button. Then he went back to his paper, continuously spitting out comments while he read. Alrightly then.

There was a gentleman in a suit on his cell phone next to Mumbling Guy. Across from them (and in front of me) were two old women. I continue reading when I hear a HUGE sneeze and it pulls my head up from my magazine. I couldn't tell who did it. But I noticed one of the old women is now standing up by the driver, in front of the white line. The driver tells her to please move back because he can't move the bus with her in front of the white line. She says she isn't getting off the bus yet but she hasn't moved back. She says she's trying to get out of the way of the germs. Sigh. It's crazy night on the 101.

During this, Mumbling Guy gets up and speaks to the driver. He is asking the driver to turn on a fan. The driver says either the heat is on or off, or the AC is on or off; there isn't an in between. Mumbling Guy returns to his seat mopping his head (though there is no sweat).We continue to sit at a green light because the old woman is STILL in front of the white line. The driver FINALLY get her to move back and we continue on our way. But she doesn't sit down in her seat, she stands. She says, "I see you looking at me." Pause. "Would you please cover your mouth when you sneeze?" She's speaking to the guy still on his cell phone who won't make eye contact with her even though the old woman is just a staring at him smiling. She finally sits down, only to pop back up because we have reached her stop.

The remaining old woman starts talking to the driver about how strange she was. All I could think of was that Standing Woman had a point--don't sneeze or otherwise on a bus without covering your mouth. It is just gross.

Not too long after that it was my stop. Mumbling Guy was still chatting away with himself. Wonder where he got off? He's probably still talking.

I Hate Sunday Nights

2008-11-09T23:12:00.004-05:00

I hate Sunday nights and I am often quoted on Sundays as saying , "I don't wanna go to school tomorrow!"

I remember when I was little I would almost always have trouble falling asleep Sunday nights. The mintues would tick by. I could hear the TV from downstairs as my parents watched the Sunday Night at the Movies movie. Each commercial break they would play their special song and I would get more and more upset with each playing of the song because I knew it was getting later and later.

Worse were the Sunday nights, as I listened to said commercial breaks, before Monday's spelling tests. They weren't every Monday, but when we had them, my Sunday nights were more miserable. All those words running through my little brain; the pressure to have them all memorized.

Sunday nights are great on the rare occasion my husband is home. His presence can makes all those bad Sunday feelings never show up. But since he is in the restaurant business he is usually working both weekend evenings.

In my adulthood I have learned that NOT sleeping in late on Sunday morning is crucial. I can fall asleep rather quickly now, but I still don't want to go to school tomorrow.

The Big Vote

2008-11-03T20:42:00.006-05:00

Well, tomorrow is the big day: casting the vote. In February, when we moved from Brooklyn back to Manhattan, I went to the voters Web site to do my change of address. An hour later I still had not figured out what to do. So I decided I would do it later.

Fast forward to October and I realized I only had a few days to make the deadline. So back I went to the site. Two hours later I finally get the form filled out. I kept having trouble because everytime I hit PRINT, part of what I filled out changed or dissappeared. Crap. So I took one of the bad printouts and filled in/wrote over the incorrect items, signed it, and dropped it in the mail.

Ten days later I get a letter from them telling me all that is wrong with my re-registration. I fixed it and mailed it back the next day.

Friday, before I left work, I called the NY Voters yahoos and asked what was up. Well, I'm registered, but still in Brooklyn. I was told to show up tomorrow, state my case, and see if they will let me do a paper ballot.

The lines are probably going to be CRAZY long tomorrow. But how pissed will I be if I show up, stand in that REALLY lone line, only to be told: sorry, you aren't registered here.

The point of all this is, that for all you hear about "make sure you vote" "you must vote, it's your right" blah, blah, blah, they sure don't make it as easy as it could be with the age of the internet.

Sigh.

I'm not wearing pantyhose

2007-05-23T20:51:00.000-05:00

I had an appointment down in the village today after work. I got out of the subway at 8th Street and was crossing Broadway when I noticed the guy walking in front of me. He was wearing a white tee shirt, jeans, and had a backpack on (over both shoulders).

Now I know the cool way for guys to wear their pants these days is to wear them really, really low. But this guy took the cake. You could see both ass cheeks. His jeans were down below his butt. I think he was homeless, then again, everything he had on was rather new looking. I looked up again but he had become part of the crowd. His ass looked very smooth.

Side note: I'm watching the Idol finale. I didn't even bother to turn it on till 10 till 10. All I can say is this Sergant Pepper ode sucks. Well, the past winners sucked. Once they got to those voted off from this season it got a little better.

Most of 'em shock the hell outta me

2007-05-21T17:54:00.000-05:00

Let me just start out by saying that I do not have a problem with women breast feeding their babies. Nope, not one bit. And I don't have a problem with them doing it in public. I guess I'm just shocked at what people do and where and how they choose to do it.

I left work tonight around 6:00pm. As I was walking to the subway I saw a woman standing in front of Madison Square Guarden. Lots of people going down to the Long Island Railroad and NJ Transit. As I get closer I see that the woman is breast feeding her baby right there on the street (she's standing--got to give her props for that) and she's singing the ABC song to her baby. She has her t-shirt pulled up exposing all of her breast (except for the nipple which is in the baby's mouth).

My Aunt Jane used to breast feed her son in public back in the 70s if she happened to be out at feeding time. What I remember is that she always threw a diaper over her shoulder and down over the baby. You couldn't see what was happening though you knew what she was doing. And she would try and sit out of the way. She would often have men and women come up to her and yell that this was a terrible thing she was doing and how could she do this in public. I never understood what was so upsetting to them since you couldn't see anything.

So when I saw this woman today it made me think of my Aunt Jane and how much of a lady she was in everything she did. She did the best for her child yet always tried to be respectful of others. I had to resist the urge to stop and ask that women to throw a diaper over her shoulder but I figured I would be like all those people who said things to Aunt Jane.

This all just pointed out to me that I'm getting older and often wish for the way things were.

That's the fork I knew

2007-05-17T22:13:00.000-05:00

My husband and I have different schedules so I'm on my own five nights a week. I had a dentist appointment during my lunch time today, to have a chipped crown fixed, so didn't eat lunch due to a very numb mouth. By quitin' time I was starved. I decided to go to one of our favorite restaurants Red Eye Grill.

I get my favorite table, say hi to the servers that know us by name (we are there at least once a week), and settle in a quiet corner in the bar area with my New York Magazine crossword puzzle. I order my usual: french onion soup and a cobb salad. Let me just say now that the soup is so fab I actually dream about it. Amazing.

Not too long after I order a group of business men come in and take over the opposite corner (I'm at a 2-top next to the bar). There is a corner table between us in the "L" shaped space. My soup comes and everything fades away as I partake of the nectar. Next thing I know I'm being pulled from my dream-like state by 3 people moving into the corner space next to me. I try to ignore them and go back to my soup, ahhhhh.

The runner brings my salad and prepares it (they toss it table side). So I find myself hearing the woman less than 12" from me blabbing on and on about being vice president of this and vice president of that. And how on this trip she did this for work and on and on. Then she starts talking about a trip to Mexico and I mentally turn all my attention to what she is saying.

The reason for this being that my husband is Mexican. I spend a LOT of time in Mexico. I know Mexico. The man with her says how he doesn't want to travel there as he has a sensitive stomach. She starts saying how on every trip she has had a little bit of Montezuma's revenge. They are all blaming it on the water. Oh God how I want to butt into the conversation. Yes, you can get sick if you drink tap water (hell, my in-laws won't drink the tap water), but 9 times out of 10 you have the runs because you are drinking a lot of alcohol. Most people get sick on vacation because they are eating and drinking much differently than at home. Shit, I get the runs a tad when I go back to visit my mom in the mid-west--damn well water.

But nooooo, it's Mexico's fault you are sick. Then she starts blabbing about the time she got sick while in Merida. The man asks where this is and she says it is a town next to the ruins of Chichen Itza. Sigh. Lady, it is the capitol of the state of Yucatan and it is about a 2 hour drive west of Chichen Itza. And it has too many people in it to be even thought of as a town.

I know I'm getting petty; to most people who don't spend a lot of time there this is how it seems to them. But I just hate having to eat my meal listening to a know-it-all. She then proceeded to tell the ingredients in her Cosmopolitan. Just let me say this, she was wrong. Hehe.

Oh, and one last thing. During my salad more and more people join this group and I'm starting to feel boxed in, but don't want to rush my lovely dinner. There is now a woman sitting on the one long bench that we all share just a foot away from me. She turns her head to the right (towards me) and slightly down while she puts her hand in front of her face so she doesn't cough on the rest of her group. But the way she has her hand forces all the cough ON TO ME!!!! EEEEEWWWW. I quickly asked for the check and went home.

Man, this baby must corner like it's on rails!

2007-05-04T11:31:00.000-05:00

I just have to get something off my chest here. What has happened to etiquette? When did the masses decide it wasn’t necessary any longer? What is wrong with people?

I take the subway to work. My office is next to Madison Square Garden and above Penn Station. This is where a great deal of New Jersey, and Long Island Railroad commuters come into Manhattan. Now I must have been out sick the day they sent around the memo stating that these two groups of people had free reign over walking where ever and however they wanted with no regard to others. But damn it, I’ve just about had enough.

I get out at 34th Street from the A/C/E line. I get up from my seat as the train slows to a stop. The doors open and the above mentioned masses push their way through those of us trying to get out just so they can get a fucking seat on the train. And to make matters worse, if I try to push my way out of the train while saying, “Excuse me”, these people have the NERVE to call me an asshole. HELLO?

So, in order to avoid this RUDE crush of people at the end of the train I started riding towards the last third/middle of the train. Getting out is usually not a problem, but as I near the end of the platform where the entrance/exit to the station is the above mentioned group of assholes start running for the train to get on before the doors close. I have actually been knocked to the ground by men wearing business suits. WTF? What if I were your pregnant wife? I bet you would be singing a different tune.

Is it so much to ask that you have a little common courtesy for your fellow comuter? I’m just a simple girl with a simple dream: to get to work without being knocked to the ground. Is that too much to ask?

Cinderfuckinrella

2007-05-03T14:41:00.000-05:00

Well, after much discussion in my head as to whether or not to start one of these things I made a decision as you can read.

Oh, so now I have to type something? Too much pressure for now. I'll have to think about this and get back to you. Sigh.

I've spent a lot of time trying to think of what I want to call this as it is a reflection of me. It will speak volumns of how I move through the world. WTF, you will never know who I am so I should just get on with it...hmmm, title, hmmm, pressure. The pressure for a name...Cinderfuckinrella! As much as it hurts me to admit it, I happen to like that movie as it has a lot of really funny lines to shoot off at someone. "Kit, this isn't a buffet" is a favorite.

You can see how dangerous this blog might be as my mind seems to wander. So, in order to help keep it simple I have decided this will be it because after all, I'm just a simple girl with a simple dream.