I could spend all day writing about these people. What is wrong with them. I leave to go to the grocery store, all is well with the world. I get back an hour later and it's like my building had imploded. I pull in next to this car that has a crush beer cartoon on the back of it. And cans all around it. Like there had been a party or something in the hour I was gone.
I hear from inside the middle building (our "building" is actually three buildings. If you are looking at it, I'm in the far right. The washing machine is in the middle building. The car with the beer belongs to people who live in the basement of that building) So I hear from inside the middle building a woman screaming bloody murder. At the top of her lungs she's screaming, "Get the hell out of here" Get the fuck out!" And then she just screams. I realize it's from the upstairs of the building. (There are three floors - basement, ground [which I am on] and up.) So for the last hour this has been going on.
Then I go to take the trash out and guess what, oh yes you guessed it, creepy neighbor finds me. Roland went and found his dog while I was throwing away the garbage and the neighbor (his name is Danny, I suppose it will be easier to call him by his name than by creepy neighbor) came around the front looking for me.
After awkward small talk (awkward because I wouldn't look at him, nor make complete sentences), he asked me, "Is anything wrong? You seem tense." Clearly he's not catching on. In this conversation he also asked me how old I was and what kind of movies I liked. Then he said, "We should kill some time together, watch a movie. Be neighborly."
I'm uncomfortable with his definition of neighborly.
Monday, May 07, 2007
More on my neighbors
I came to the conclusion today that most of them do not seem to work. I say seem, though I know, in fact, that many of them do not have jobs. This includes the afore mentioned downstairs neighbor. He used to own a restaurant with his ex-wife and recently said "Screw it!" and let her have it. He's looking for work now, I think.
The other downstairs neighbor doesn't seem to work either. She has the world's loudest dachshund, which she never takes outside. I don't know where he goes to the bathroom. She doesn't have a car, as far as I can tell, and she is often outside waiting for a ride. She is an older woman. She also seems to be gone for days at a time, leaving behind the yapping dog.
There's also a woman in the building next to me. She has a poodle and two sons, who are in their 20s. The older one is off at college and works full time. He does not live at home. The younger son, who I think is only just 20, lives at home and does not go to college, nor does he work. Instead, he hangs out with his girlfriend, friends or fights very loudly with his mother, whom he often calls a bitch. The mother also does not work. She is on public assistance, though she does watch a child after school at her apartment for a friend who pays her. Whenever the son needs something, he asks his mother for it. This includes not just food and clothes, but gifts for the girlfriend. He is, perfectly capable of working, but is lazy (according to his mother).
There is a mixed race couple with a little baby girl and a boxer (dog), I think. I'm not good with dog breeds. I don't know their story and only lately have begun speaking with the man (he seems really young, and I hesitate to call him a man) because he is often out with the dog and I'm out with my dog and the dogs want to sniff each other, leaving us either awkward silence or small talk. Today he was doing his laundry when I went down to do mine and he had taken all of his clothes down in black garbage bags, which he threw away after loading the clothes into the wash. He also sprayed Lysol in the washing machine and dryer before using them. I found both of these behaviors odd.
Anyway, those are the people I'll start with. In the next edition, I'll discuss Jeremy my neighbor across the hall who seems to both have a girlfriend and be gay, and also is never home. And the retired WWII vet and his wife who recently moved here from North Carolina (sometimes I think the old man is hitting on me and that creeps me out way worse than the downstairs neighbor).
The other downstairs neighbor doesn't seem to work either. She has the world's loudest dachshund, which she never takes outside. I don't know where he goes to the bathroom. She doesn't have a car, as far as I can tell, and she is often outside waiting for a ride. She is an older woman. She also seems to be gone for days at a time, leaving behind the yapping dog.
There's also a woman in the building next to me. She has a poodle and two sons, who are in their 20s. The older one is off at college and works full time. He does not live at home. The younger son, who I think is only just 20, lives at home and does not go to college, nor does he work. Instead, he hangs out with his girlfriend, friends or fights very loudly with his mother, whom he often calls a bitch. The mother also does not work. She is on public assistance, though she does watch a child after school at her apartment for a friend who pays her. Whenever the son needs something, he asks his mother for it. This includes not just food and clothes, but gifts for the girlfriend. He is, perfectly capable of working, but is lazy (according to his mother).
There is a mixed race couple with a little baby girl and a boxer (dog), I think. I'm not good with dog breeds. I don't know their story and only lately have begun speaking with the man (he seems really young, and I hesitate to call him a man) because he is often out with the dog and I'm out with my dog and the dogs want to sniff each other, leaving us either awkward silence or small talk. Today he was doing his laundry when I went down to do mine and he had taken all of his clothes down in black garbage bags, which he threw away after loading the clothes into the wash. He also sprayed Lysol in the washing machine and dryer before using them. I found both of these behaviors odd.
Anyway, those are the people I'll start with. In the next edition, I'll discuss Jeremy my neighbor across the hall who seems to both have a girlfriend and be gay, and also is never home. And the retired WWII vet and his wife who recently moved here from North Carolina (sometimes I think the old man is hitting on me and that creeps me out way worse than the downstairs neighbor).
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Downstairs neighbor woes
I'm really getting annoyed at my creepy downstairs neighbor.
Just because you live in the same building does not give you the right to impose your company on me and it certainly doesn't give you the right to keep trying to invite me over for dinner and/or a movie. I've been fairly successful at hiding from him, despite the fact that Roland LOVES his dog and whines whenever he sees the dog outside. But today, Roland and I had been outside and were on our way in and we caught him coming out.
So, he says to me, "What are you doing tonight?"
Normally I have a good excuse, but today I finally ran out. And so I said, "Uh, nothing. I don't think I'm doing anything."
So he says back, "I'm going fishing now, but I'll knock on your door later and see if you want to do anything." And then he left.
So now I have to find a reason NOT to be here later, which is not easy on a Sunday night. I shouldn't have to hide or leave my apartment. A person's house/apartment should be the one place at which people do NOT feel free to make moves on you.
Just because you live in the same building does not give you the right to impose your company on me and it certainly doesn't give you the right to keep trying to invite me over for dinner and/or a movie. I've been fairly successful at hiding from him, despite the fact that Roland LOVES his dog and whines whenever he sees the dog outside. But today, Roland and I had been outside and were on our way in and we caught him coming out.
So, he says to me, "What are you doing tonight?"
Normally I have a good excuse, but today I finally ran out. And so I said, "Uh, nothing. I don't think I'm doing anything."
So he says back, "I'm going fishing now, but I'll knock on your door later and see if you want to do anything." And then he left.
So now I have to find a reason NOT to be here later, which is not easy on a Sunday night. I shouldn't have to hide or leave my apartment. A person's house/apartment should be the one place at which people do NOT feel free to make moves on you.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
My Job Sucks
I just finished "The Devil Wears Prada" (go on mock me for my movie choice again, I don't care), and I think I have the male version of Miranda as my boss. Seriously. I'm waiting for him to make me pick up his latte on my way into work — though I think he makes his assistant, who wasn't hired to be an assistant, do that right now. She's on the verge of quitting, though. So soon that job will fall to me. I just know it.
The tally so far:
3 reporters
1 new media editor
2 editorial page staffers
That's a lot of people for a paper our size. We're hemorrhaging...my immediate boss said he read an article in the Atlantic Monthly about the situation in newspapers and it's called a suicide spiral. There's a pool on who will quit next. My money is on the afore mentioned assistant and the city government reporter. My immediate boss, has his money on me and a business reporter.
It's really kind of sad when you think about it.
The tally so far:
3 reporters
1 new media editor
2 editorial page staffers
That's a lot of people for a paper our size. We're hemorrhaging...my immediate boss said he read an article in the Atlantic Monthly about the situation in newspapers and it's called a suicide spiral. There's a pool on who will quit next. My money is on the afore mentioned assistant and the city government reporter. My immediate boss, has his money on me and a business reporter.
It's really kind of sad when you think about it.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Miami Revisted
I'm still pretty much in a very deep state of depression from my last trip and thus haven't been much on returning calls and e-mails (sorry everyone). I've managed to get to work and class everyday, though, quite frankly, I don't know how. On Tuesday, I went home early. I went in at 3 p.m. and left at 8 p.m. I told them I was sick, which is technically true. I have a cold of some sort. But the truth is I couldn't take it. They said today that I looked "more of this world." But I don't feel it.
In the meantime, however, I have received a CD of pictures from our Miami trip from one of my compatriots. Here you can see the hotel we stayed at that I mentioned in an early post. I can't even tell you how much I wish I were there now.
In the meantime, however, I have received a CD of pictures from our Miami trip from one of my compatriots. Here you can see the hotel we stayed at that I mentioned in an early post. I can't even tell you how much I wish I were there now.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Wedding Blues
Just got back late last night from a trip to SC/NC for a wedding - well at least that was the excuse for the trip. The wedding was beautiful and I had a lot of fun at it and the reception, and most of the rehearsal dinner, for that matter — especially considering there was no one there that I hadn't just met that week, aside from my date. Otherwise the trip was pretty much a disaster. More on that available in e-mails that are sure to go out as soon as some of my depression has dissipated.
However, here is the house where the wedding/reception was held. It's called The City Club and it's part of The Wilmingtonian, which is where we stayed (in a boat-themed room called the Boathouse Suite. I don't know why I didn't take a picture of it! It was hilarious in a very bad way.) Anyway, it was very posh.
I wish I could report on Wilmington, but I didn't see much of it. What I did see of downtown was very nice. I would like to go back and spend a real weekend there sometime.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Author David Halberstam dies in crash
[Note Mississippi reference]
SAN FRANCISCO (AP) — David Halberstam, a Pulitzer Prize-winning author who chronicled the Washington press corps, the Vietnam War generation and baseball, was killed in a car crash early Monday, a coroner said. He was 73.
Halberstam, a New Yorker, was a passenger in a car that was broadsided by another vehicle in Menlo Park, south of San Francisco, San Mateo County Coroner Robert Foucrault said.
"Looking at the accident and examining him at the scene indicated it's most likely internal injuries," Foucrault said.
The driver of the car carrying Halberstam is a student at the Graduate School of Journalism at the University of California, Berkeley, and was taken to Stanford Medical Center. Two others were injured.
Halberstam spoke Saturday at a UC Berkeley-sponsored event on the craft of journalism and what it means to turn reporting into a work of history.
He was born April 10, 1934, in New York City, the son of a surgeon father and teacher mother.
After attending Harvard University, Halberstam launched his career in 1955 at the Daily Times Leader, a small daily newspaper in Mississippi. By age 30 he had won the 1964 Pulitzer Prize for reporting on the Vietnam War for the New York Times.
He quit daily journalism in 1967 and wrote 21 books covering such diverse topics as the Vietnam War, civil rights, the auto industry and a baseball pennant race. His 2002 best-seller, War in a Time of Peace, was a runner-up for the Pulitzer Prize for non-fiction.
SAN FRANCISCO (AP) — David Halberstam, a Pulitzer Prize-winning author who chronicled the Washington press corps, the Vietnam War generation and baseball, was killed in a car crash early Monday, a coroner said. He was 73.
Halberstam, a New Yorker, was a passenger in a car that was broadsided by another vehicle in Menlo Park, south of San Francisco, San Mateo County Coroner Robert Foucrault said.
"Looking at the accident and examining him at the scene indicated it's most likely internal injuries," Foucrault said.
The driver of the car carrying Halberstam is a student at the Graduate School of Journalism at the University of California, Berkeley, and was taken to Stanford Medical Center. Two others were injured.
Halberstam spoke Saturday at a UC Berkeley-sponsored event on the craft of journalism and what it means to turn reporting into a work of history.
He was born April 10, 1934, in New York City, the son of a surgeon father and teacher mother.
After attending Harvard University, Halberstam launched his career in 1955 at the Daily Times Leader, a small daily newspaper in Mississippi. By age 30 he had won the 1964 Pulitzer Prize for reporting on the Vietnam War for the New York Times.
He quit daily journalism in 1967 and wrote 21 books covering such diverse topics as the Vietnam War, civil rights, the auto industry and a baseball pennant race. His 2002 best-seller, War in a Time of Peace, was a runner-up for the Pulitzer Prize for non-fiction.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Miami Vice(s)
Sadly, that is the actual name of the first drink, Miami Vice, that is. I don't know what drink #2 is, but I'm sure it was fruity goodness!
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Miami on the Quick
The title refers to both my (last) weekend trip there and the fact that I have to rush this entry. I never seem to have time to do anything any more. Where did all my time go? Tutoring Spanish students I think. Well that will soon be over. May 7 is the last day of tutoring and May 9 is my final. Next semester I'm taking TWO Spanish classes. One is Spanish for native speakers and is conducted entirely in Spanish. That will be scary for me as a non-native speaker.However, when I was in Miami for two days (I flew down on a Saturday and back on Monday morning) I found that I understood everything that was said to me, though there wasn't much call for me to speak Spanish since everyone but our maid seemed to also speak English.
The beach was not as kind this trip as when we went two years ago. It was overcast on Sunday and I only had half a day on Saturday. A friend of mine who had a later flight out on Monday said it was cold and he didn't stay on the beach more than a few minutes.
The food, however, remained awesome. We had Haitian food at a place call Tap Tap (Everything we did was in South Beach, by the way. That's where we stayed and we didn't have a car.) We had a shrimp dish that came in the most amazing sauce. I was putting that sauce on everything - rich, plantains, bread, everything! We also had conch fritters, which were also good.
The photo is of some black beans that I also put on everything. These were some of the best black beans I've every had (and no, that is not the alcohol talking!). This was at a Cuban diner called Puerto Sagua. I also had the Cubano sandwich, which was excellent. And someone at the table had shredded meat (I think it was beef). Also tasty!
We stayed at the Park Central, which is one of the top five Art Deco hotels in the city. It was really nice. The hallways were sort of drab and, like everything in Miami, mildewy, but nice. We drank a lot of fruity beverages containing any number of alcohols We went back to the Purdy Lounge, which a certain member of our party did not care for. But we had fun dancing to 80's and dance music.
All in all a good trip, but one that ended way to soon. The good news is that on Wednesday I'm leaving for Wilmington, NC, which will afford me the opportunity to cram in more beach time...though of a more laid back variety.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Easter and Beyond
Uhg. I feel so sick. My mom made enough food for Easter to feed a small army. Then she made everyone take home doggie bags. I don't think you should fast or 40 days and then eat an entire lamb. But I guess that's just me.
My dad's family came over and I didn't recognize half the cousins and cousins' kids. For example, I can't believe my cousin's 22 year old daughter has two children. What tha...?
I'm finding it hard to fit in everything, or rather everyone, I would like to on this trip. I didn't realize I would be so popular. Perhaps I should have come home for a longer period. I got here on Friday afternoon and I leave on Tuesday afternoon. Tomorrow I'm driving up to Memphis for the day and then back down later in the afternoon. Sometime before Wednesday I have to study for my Spanish test too. And I'd actually like to get some sleep. PLUS on Saturday I fly to Miami for a quick weekend trip to celebrate a friend's 30th birthday. I think, maybe, I have TOO much going on right now. That's a change.
My dad's family came over and I didn't recognize half the cousins and cousins' kids. For example, I can't believe my cousin's 22 year old daughter has two children. What tha...?
I'm finding it hard to fit in everything, or rather everyone, I would like to on this trip. I didn't realize I would be so popular. Perhaps I should have come home for a longer period. I got here on Friday afternoon and I leave on Tuesday afternoon. Tomorrow I'm driving up to Memphis for the day and then back down later in the afternoon. Sometime before Wednesday I have to study for my Spanish test too. And I'd actually like to get some sleep. PLUS on Saturday I fly to Miami for a quick weekend trip to celebrate a friend's 30th birthday. I think, maybe, I have TOO much going on right now. That's a change.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Getting Unced
It's not really a verb, but my friend Elizabeth used it that way once, jokingly, and it's stuck in my head ever since. I had to work tonight and so missed out on the anointing. That's two year's in a row since last year I was moving during Holy Unction. Anyway, in case you're reading this and would like to know more....
The Sacrament of Holy Unction: Holy Wednesday afternoon and Evening
Introduction
On the afternoon or evening of Great and Holy Wednesday, the Sacrament or Mystery of Holy Unction is conducted in Orthodox parishes. The Sacrament of Holy Unction is offered for the healing of soul and body and for forgiveness of sins. At the conclusion of the service of the Sacrament, the body is anointed with oil, and the grace of God, which heals infirmities of soul and body, is called down upon each person. The Sacrament is performed by a gathering of priests, ideally seven in number, however, it can be performed by a lesser number and even by a single priest.
Holy Unction
When one is ill and in pain, this can very often be a time of life when one feels alone and isolated. The Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick, or Holy Unction as it is also known, reminds us that when we are ion pain, either physical, emotional, or spiritual, Christ is present with us through the ministry of His Church. He is among us to offer strength to meet the challenges of life, and even the approach of death.
As with Chrismation, oil is also used in this Sacrament as a sign of God's presence, strength, and forgiveness. After the reading of seven Epistle lessons, seven Gospel lessons and the offering of seven prayers, which are all devoted to healing, the priest anoints the body with the Holy Oil. Orthodoxy does not view this Sacrament as available only to those who are near death. It is offered to all who are sick in body, mind, or spirit.
Christ came to the world to “bear our infirmities.” One of the signs of His divine Messiahship was to heal the sick. The power of healing remains in the Church since Christ himself remains in the Church through the Holy Spirit.
The Sacrament of the Unction of the sick is the Church's specific prayer for healing. If the faith of the believers is strong enough, and if it is the will of God, there is every reason to believe that the Lord can heal those who are diseased.
The biblical basis for the Sacrament is found in James 5:14-16:
Is any among you sick, let him call for the presbyters of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord; and the prayer of faith will save the sick man, and the Lord will raise him up; and if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven. Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed.
In ancient Christian literature one may find indirect testimonies of the Mystery of Unction in Saint Irenaeus of Lyons and in Origen. Later there are clear testimonies of it in Saints Basil the Great and John Chrysostom, who have left prayers for the healing of the infirm which entered later into the rite of Unction; and likewise in Saint Cyril of Alexandria. In the fifth century, Pope Innocent I answered a series of questions concerning the Mystery of Unction, indicating in his answers that a) it should be performed "upon believers who are sick"; b) it may be performed also by a bishop, since one should not see in the words of the Apostle, let him call for the presbyters, any prohibition for a bishop to participate in the sacred action; c) this anointment may not be performed "on those undergoing ecclesiastical penance,' because it is a "Mystery,' and to those who are forbidden the other Mysteries, how can one allow only one?
The express purpose of the Sacrament of Holy Unction is healing and forgiveness. Since it is not always the will of God that there should be physical healing, the prayer of Christ that God's will be done always remains as the proper context of the Sacrament. In addition, it is the clear intention of the Sacrament that through the anointing of the sick body the sufferings of the person should be sanctified and united to the sufferings of Christ. In this way, the wounds of the flesh are consecrated, and strength is given that the suffering of the diseased person may not be unto the death of his soul, but for eternal salvation in the resurrection and life of the Kingdom of God.
It is indeed the case that death inevitably comes. All must die, even those who in this life are given a reprieve through healing in order to have more time on the earth. Thus, the healing of the sick is not itself a final goal, but is merely "instrumental" in that it is given by God as a sign of his mercy and as a grace for the further opportunity of man to live for him and for others in the life of this world.
In the case where a person is obviously in the final moments of his earthly life, the Church has special prayers for the "separation of soul and body." Thus, it is clear that the Sacrament of Holy Unction is for the sick-both the physically and mentally sick-and is not reserved for the moment of death. The Sacrament of Unction is not the "last rites" as is sometimes thought; the ritual of the anointing itself in no way indicates that it should be administered merely in "extreme" cases. Holy Unction is the Sacrament of the spiritual, physical, and mental healing of a sick person whatever the nature or the gravity of the illness may be.
Orthodox Christian Celebration of the Sacrament of Holy unction
The Sacrament itself calls for seven priests, seven readings from the Epistles and Gospels, seven prayers and seven anointings with oil specifically blessed during the service. Although it is not always possible to perform the sacrament in this way, the normal procedure is still to gather together as many priests and people as possible.
At the end of the service the priest anoints the faithful as he makes the sign of the cross on the forehead and top and palms of the hands saying, "For the healing of soul and body."
The Sacrament of Holy Unction: Holy Wednesday afternoon and Evening
Introduction
On the afternoon or evening of Great and Holy Wednesday, the Sacrament or Mystery of Holy Unction is conducted in Orthodox parishes. The Sacrament of Holy Unction is offered for the healing of soul and body and for forgiveness of sins. At the conclusion of the service of the Sacrament, the body is anointed with oil, and the grace of God, which heals infirmities of soul and body, is called down upon each person. The Sacrament is performed by a gathering of priests, ideally seven in number, however, it can be performed by a lesser number and even by a single priest.
Holy Unction
When one is ill and in pain, this can very often be a time of life when one feels alone and isolated. The Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick, or Holy Unction as it is also known, reminds us that when we are ion pain, either physical, emotional, or spiritual, Christ is present with us through the ministry of His Church. He is among us to offer strength to meet the challenges of life, and even the approach of death.
As with Chrismation, oil is also used in this Sacrament as a sign of God's presence, strength, and forgiveness. After the reading of seven Epistle lessons, seven Gospel lessons and the offering of seven prayers, which are all devoted to healing, the priest anoints the body with the Holy Oil. Orthodoxy does not view this Sacrament as available only to those who are near death. It is offered to all who are sick in body, mind, or spirit.
Christ came to the world to “bear our infirmities.” One of the signs of His divine Messiahship was to heal the sick. The power of healing remains in the Church since Christ himself remains in the Church through the Holy Spirit.
The Sacrament of the Unction of the sick is the Church's specific prayer for healing. If the faith of the believers is strong enough, and if it is the will of God, there is every reason to believe that the Lord can heal those who are diseased.
The biblical basis for the Sacrament is found in James 5:14-16:
Is any among you sick, let him call for the presbyters of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord; and the prayer of faith will save the sick man, and the Lord will raise him up; and if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven. Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed.
In ancient Christian literature one may find indirect testimonies of the Mystery of Unction in Saint Irenaeus of Lyons and in Origen. Later there are clear testimonies of it in Saints Basil the Great and John Chrysostom, who have left prayers for the healing of the infirm which entered later into the rite of Unction; and likewise in Saint Cyril of Alexandria. In the fifth century, Pope Innocent I answered a series of questions concerning the Mystery of Unction, indicating in his answers that a) it should be performed "upon believers who are sick"; b) it may be performed also by a bishop, since one should not see in the words of the Apostle, let him call for the presbyters, any prohibition for a bishop to participate in the sacred action; c) this anointment may not be performed "on those undergoing ecclesiastical penance,' because it is a "Mystery,' and to those who are forbidden the other Mysteries, how can one allow only one?
The express purpose of the Sacrament of Holy Unction is healing and forgiveness. Since it is not always the will of God that there should be physical healing, the prayer of Christ that God's will be done always remains as the proper context of the Sacrament. In addition, it is the clear intention of the Sacrament that through the anointing of the sick body the sufferings of the person should be sanctified and united to the sufferings of Christ. In this way, the wounds of the flesh are consecrated, and strength is given that the suffering of the diseased person may not be unto the death of his soul, but for eternal salvation in the resurrection and life of the Kingdom of God.
It is indeed the case that death inevitably comes. All must die, even those who in this life are given a reprieve through healing in order to have more time on the earth. Thus, the healing of the sick is not itself a final goal, but is merely "instrumental" in that it is given by God as a sign of his mercy and as a grace for the further opportunity of man to live for him and for others in the life of this world.
In the case where a person is obviously in the final moments of his earthly life, the Church has special prayers for the "separation of soul and body." Thus, it is clear that the Sacrament of Holy Unction is for the sick-both the physically and mentally sick-and is not reserved for the moment of death. The Sacrament of Unction is not the "last rites" as is sometimes thought; the ritual of the anointing itself in no way indicates that it should be administered merely in "extreme" cases. Holy Unction is the Sacrament of the spiritual, physical, and mental healing of a sick person whatever the nature or the gravity of the illness may be.
Orthodox Christian Celebration of the Sacrament of Holy unction
The Sacrament itself calls for seven priests, seven readings from the Epistles and Gospels, seven prayers and seven anointings with oil specifically blessed during the service. Although it is not always possible to perform the sacrament in this way, the normal procedure is still to gather together as many priests and people as possible.
At the end of the service the priest anoints the faithful as he makes the sign of the cross on the forehead and top and palms of the hands saying, "For the healing of soul and body."
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Sambuca + Zamboni = FlimFlamFun
Apparently, in New Jersey, ANYONE can get a gig driving a Zamboni. Backup career is now secured.
N.J. judge: No such thing as Zamboni DWI
Judge rules ice rink groomer can't be charged with drunken driving at wheel of Zamboni machine
04-03-2007 10:35
NEWARK, N.J. (AP) _ It's not drunken driving in New Jersey if it involves a Zamboni.
A judge ruled the four-ton ice rink-grooming machines aren't motor vehicles because they aren't useable on highways and can't carry passengers.
Zamboni operator John Peragallo had been charged with drunken driving in 2005 after a fellow employee at the Mennen Sports Arena in Morristown told police the machine was speeding and nearly crashed into the boards.
Police said Peragallo's blood alcohol level was 0.12 percent. A level of 0.08 is considered legally drunk in New Jersey.
Peragallo appealed, and Superior Court Judge Joseph Falcone on Monday overturned his license revocation and penalties.
"It's a vindication for my client," Peragallo attorney James Porfido said after the hearing. "It's the right decision."
Morris County Assistant Prosecutor Joseph D'Onofrio said no decision had been made on whether to appeal.
Peragallo, 64, testified at his trial that he did drink beer and vodka, but not until after he had groomed the ice. However, he told police he had a shot of Sambuca with his breakfast coffee and two Valium-pills before work.
N.J. judge: No such thing as Zamboni DWI
Judge rules ice rink groomer can't be charged with drunken driving at wheel of Zamboni machine
04-03-2007 10:35
NEWARK, N.J. (AP) _ It's not drunken driving in New Jersey if it involves a Zamboni.
A judge ruled the four-ton ice rink-grooming machines aren't motor vehicles because they aren't useable on highways and can't carry passengers.
Zamboni operator John Peragallo had been charged with drunken driving in 2005 after a fellow employee at the Mennen Sports Arena in Morristown told police the machine was speeding and nearly crashed into the boards.
Police said Peragallo's blood alcohol level was 0.12 percent. A level of 0.08 is considered legally drunk in New Jersey.
Peragallo appealed, and Superior Court Judge Joseph Falcone on Monday overturned his license revocation and penalties.
"It's a vindication for my client," Peragallo attorney James Porfido said after the hearing. "It's the right decision."
Morris County Assistant Prosecutor Joseph D'Onofrio said no decision had been made on whether to appeal.
Peragallo, 64, testified at his trial that he did drink beer and vodka, but not until after he had groomed the ice. However, he told police he had a shot of Sambuca with his breakfast coffee and two Valium-pills before work.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Fools All Around
Wow. It's April already. I've been here a year. How did that happen?
I had intended to blog all about my trip to Chicago last weekend (It was great. Terrific weather. Greek Independence Day Parade. Good food. Good friends. Sigh. Why am I in New York?) But upon my return I've done nothing but work. I go in around 10 a.m. and I get home around 11 p.m. or midnight. Plus I've had homework for Spanish and tutoring. The last two days were hell. I was the only editor in the office and people were asking me for stuff WAY outside my job description — freelancer budgets, staff overtime estimates. I don't do that kind of paperwork. I read stories. Assign stories. Try to squeeze blood from a turnip. I have nothing to do with money.
I squeezed a LOT of blood out of the turnips this week, by the way. I can't even tell you the creative juggling I did to get enough stories to fill our paper. Tomorrow is my last day alone...then everyone comes back and on Friday I leave to go to my parents for Easter. Plus, we've had a reporter out on long-term sick leave who came back and there was no one but ME there to talk to her about her situation in the newsroom, all the changes that are going on, etc. And in addition to all the other work I was doing, I was having to find daily stories for her to cover and then sit down with her when I edited, which made the process 20x longer than it needed to be. But she's our weakest reporter...weaker than the interns and the news clerk. She doesn't seem to understand the basics of reporting, which is a major problem. MAJOR problem.
Anyway, all that is to say that is why I've been absent from my blog lately. Oh and I made a 82 on that last test. The class average was 54. She had to give a "pop" extra credit quiz on Monday — which she told us she was giving, thereby negating the pop portion of the quiz — worth up to 20 points added to your test grade. I missed at least one and made one word feminine, which is supposed to be masculine, so I won't get full credit, but I should at least have an A when all is said and done.
That's it for now. I've got to go catch up on all the stuff I haven't been able to do because of work. Oh, Happy April Fools Day and also Palm Sunday.
I had intended to blog all about my trip to Chicago last weekend (It was great. Terrific weather. Greek Independence Day Parade. Good food. Good friends. Sigh. Why am I in New York?) But upon my return I've done nothing but work. I go in around 10 a.m. and I get home around 11 p.m. or midnight. Plus I've had homework for Spanish and tutoring. The last two days were hell. I was the only editor in the office and people were asking me for stuff WAY outside my job description — freelancer budgets, staff overtime estimates. I don't do that kind of paperwork. I read stories. Assign stories. Try to squeeze blood from a turnip. I have nothing to do with money.
I squeezed a LOT of blood out of the turnips this week, by the way. I can't even tell you the creative juggling I did to get enough stories to fill our paper. Tomorrow is my last day alone...then everyone comes back and on Friday I leave to go to my parents for Easter. Plus, we've had a reporter out on long-term sick leave who came back and there was no one but ME there to talk to her about her situation in the newsroom, all the changes that are going on, etc. And in addition to all the other work I was doing, I was having to find daily stories for her to cover and then sit down with her when I edited, which made the process 20x longer than it needed to be. But she's our weakest reporter...weaker than the interns and the news clerk. She doesn't seem to understand the basics of reporting, which is a major problem. MAJOR problem.
Anyway, all that is to say that is why I've been absent from my blog lately. Oh and I made a 82 on that last test. The class average was 54. She had to give a "pop" extra credit quiz on Monday — which she told us she was giving, thereby negating the pop portion of the quiz — worth up to 20 points added to your test grade. I missed at least one and made one word feminine, which is supposed to be masculine, so I won't get full credit, but I should at least have an A when all is said and done.
That's it for now. I've got to go catch up on all the stuff I haven't been able to do because of work. Oh, Happy April Fools Day and also Palm Sunday.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Test anxiety, redux
Look, I know you're starting to think I'm like Chicken Little with this, but I really did suck my Spanish exam all up this time.
There were just too many verb tenses. I did fine on the vocab and I knew I would going in. But the verbs! There was subjunctive, which included making commands in two different ways; the imperfect progressive and contrasting the (regular) imperfect with the preterite. By the time I got to the end of the exam, which was LONG (I took this exam for an hour and a half...our teacher didn't seem to mind that me and two other students were there 15 minutes past the end of class), my brain was fried.
I couldn't remember the imperfect verb ending and I totally blew the last section. I know I blew it because she looked at my test and the test of another woman who is also a very good student and said, "Hmm, perhaps I shouldn't have put imperfect versus preterite on this test. Maybe it was too much."
Of course I don't even know about two other verb sections, it was late at one point I just started circle verbs hoping they were right and then praying I conjugated things right and there was one entire section where I had no idea what the instructions said except for make commands in the usted person, so I just went through making commands.
AND there was this random section with street signs that we didn't even TOUCH on in class. I guessed the best I could on that one too. Makes me wonder what I've been studying for the past three weeks.
I'm praying for a C.
Also, worked sucked ass today too. More on that later. I have to go do a self-review now. I'm way behind on crap I have to finish.
There were just too many verb tenses. I did fine on the vocab and I knew I would going in. But the verbs! There was subjunctive, which included making commands in two different ways; the imperfect progressive and contrasting the (regular) imperfect with the preterite. By the time I got to the end of the exam, which was LONG (I took this exam for an hour and a half...our teacher didn't seem to mind that me and two other students were there 15 minutes past the end of class), my brain was fried.
I couldn't remember the imperfect verb ending and I totally blew the last section. I know I blew it because she looked at my test and the test of another woman who is also a very good student and said, "Hmm, perhaps I shouldn't have put imperfect versus preterite on this test. Maybe it was too much."
Of course I don't even know about two other verb sections, it was late at one point I just started circle verbs hoping they were right and then praying I conjugated things right and there was one entire section where I had no idea what the instructions said except for make commands in the usted person, so I just went through making commands.
AND there was this random section with street signs that we didn't even TOUCH on in class. I guessed the best I could on that one too. Makes me wonder what I've been studying for the past three weeks.
I'm praying for a C.
Also, worked sucked ass today too. More on that later. I have to go do a self-review now. I'm way behind on crap I have to finish.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Roller skates + Greek Mythology = True Love
My guilty confession of the night is that I have just watched Xanadu for the first time and OH. MY. GOD. How could you not immediately love a movie that is soooo bad and takes itself soooo serious and also has Gene Kelly on roller skates!
My life has been forever changed. I will now only wear socks with high heels and also I plan to travel everywhere via roller skates. Goodbye Pathfinder. Goodbye Vespa. Hello Krypto Route 65s Chicago 400s!
My life has been forever changed. I will now only wear socks with high heels and also I plan to travel everywhere via roller skates. Goodbye Pathfinder. Goodbye Vespa. Hello Krypto Route 65s Chicago 400s!
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Movies
So in the last few weeks I've Netflixed "Babel", "Stranger Than Fiction" and "Thanks For Your Consideration". I have been wowed by none of these movies.
I liked "Stranger Than Fiction" right up to the end where — and there will be a spoiler here — they don't kill the main character despite the fact the whole movie is leading up to that point and it's not the kind of not killing that makes you think, "Oh. That IS clever." No. It's the kind of not killing that makes you think, "Friggin' cowards." America cinema's refusal to kill off their heroes is very angering.
I liked "Thanks For Your Consideration". I didn't have high hopes for it because while "Waiting for Guffman" and "Best In Show" were awesome, I was disappointed by "A Mighty Wind." Guest's entire mockumentary focus seemed to be getting stale. And while this movie had the same feel, it was at least different in that there weren't interviews with the main characters, like the others. And I can't tell you how many times I've quoted that movie in the last few weeks (due largely to Purim, but still...) So it gets points for that.
My biggest disappointment was "Babel", however. The film was incredibly well acted. Thumbs up to all the actors and even more of them should have nominated for awards (except Brad Pitt...sorry Mr. Jolie, NO OSCAR for you!) But after I watched the whole two and half hours I was like, "WHAT?!" First of all I could never figure out what Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett were doing in Morocco? Who goes to Morocco to repair their marriage after their baby dies of SIDS? And why did SHE go to Morocco. She clearly didn't want to be there and he was the one that was supposed to be groveling because he took off and left her and kids after the baby died. So that just sets the whole thing off on the wrong foot. And okay, so I can buy the kids shooting at the bus and all that. But seriously? Why WOULDN"T you put her on the bus and rush her to the hospital after she's been all stitched up by the vet? How is going by bumpy ambulance any better than going by bumpy bus. Ladies, stay the hell away from Brad Pitt, he does not make good decisions regarding your well-being.
I liked the Japan plot line. I had no problems with that part of it. I even liked its connection to the Morocco plot line. But I think the dumbest was the Mexican nanny story line where after dragging these little white kids down to Mexico for her son's wedding, she would get into a car with her intoxicated nephew who has already had trouble with border patrol and drive back to San Diego at dawn? What? Oh and she's been living in the U.S. illegally for 16 years? Who would do that? Aren't you just asking border patrol to act like stupid American assholes? Oh and friggin' border patrol at Mexico SPEAKS SPANISH! Just like border patrol at Canada speaks French! So stupid. Then, THEN, she's going to get out in the middle of the desert with these kids? WHAT?!!!! I just....it makes me so angry. So, so very angry. We, the movie viewing audience, aren't all idiots. And it would be one thing if these were stupid characters or if they made one bad mistake. But that script was just silly and insulting to me as a audience member.
But again. I have to say wow to the acting. Can we get that cast in a good movie, please? Anyway, kudos to the Academy for ONCE for not giving in to the hype. That movie did not deserve Best Picture. However, thumbs down for not giving some of actresses awards and for not nominated the Japanese father for his role.
And that's all I have to say on the topic of movies for now. Maybe I'm a little too passionate about film, but I can't help it. I just think cinema could be so much more than it is. Why do you want to hurt me so, Hollywood? (¡And that includes you too Alejandro González Iñárritu!)
I liked "Stranger Than Fiction" right up to the end where — and there will be a spoiler here — they don't kill the main character despite the fact the whole movie is leading up to that point and it's not the kind of not killing that makes you think, "Oh. That IS clever." No. It's the kind of not killing that makes you think, "Friggin' cowards." America cinema's refusal to kill off their heroes is very angering.
I liked "Thanks For Your Consideration". I didn't have high hopes for it because while "Waiting for Guffman" and "Best In Show" were awesome, I was disappointed by "A Mighty Wind." Guest's entire mockumentary focus seemed to be getting stale. And while this movie had the same feel, it was at least different in that there weren't interviews with the main characters, like the others. And I can't tell you how many times I've quoted that movie in the last few weeks (due largely to Purim, but still...) So it gets points for that.
My biggest disappointment was "Babel", however. The film was incredibly well acted. Thumbs up to all the actors and even more of them should have nominated for awards (except Brad Pitt...sorry Mr. Jolie, NO OSCAR for you!) But after I watched the whole two and half hours I was like, "WHAT?!" First of all I could never figure out what Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett were doing in Morocco? Who goes to Morocco to repair their marriage after their baby dies of SIDS? And why did SHE go to Morocco. She clearly didn't want to be there and he was the one that was supposed to be groveling because he took off and left her and kids after the baby died. So that just sets the whole thing off on the wrong foot. And okay, so I can buy the kids shooting at the bus and all that. But seriously? Why WOULDN"T you put her on the bus and rush her to the hospital after she's been all stitched up by the vet? How is going by bumpy ambulance any better than going by bumpy bus. Ladies, stay the hell away from Brad Pitt, he does not make good decisions regarding your well-being.
I liked the Japan plot line. I had no problems with that part of it. I even liked its connection to the Morocco plot line. But I think the dumbest was the Mexican nanny story line where after dragging these little white kids down to Mexico for her son's wedding, she would get into a car with her intoxicated nephew who has already had trouble with border patrol and drive back to San Diego at dawn? What? Oh and she's been living in the U.S. illegally for 16 years? Who would do that? Aren't you just asking border patrol to act like stupid American assholes? Oh and friggin' border patrol at Mexico SPEAKS SPANISH! Just like border patrol at Canada speaks French! So stupid. Then, THEN, she's going to get out in the middle of the desert with these kids? WHAT?!!!! I just....it makes me so angry. So, so very angry. We, the movie viewing audience, aren't all idiots. And it would be one thing if these were stupid characters or if they made one bad mistake. But that script was just silly and insulting to me as a audience member.
But again. I have to say wow to the acting. Can we get that cast in a good movie, please? Anyway, kudos to the Academy for ONCE for not giving in to the hype. That movie did not deserve Best Picture. However, thumbs down for not giving some of actresses awards and for not nominated the Japanese father for his role.
And that's all I have to say on the topic of movies for now. Maybe I'm a little too passionate about film, but I can't help it. I just think cinema could be so much more than it is. Why do you want to hurt me so, Hollywood? (¡And that includes you too Alejandro González Iñárritu!)
Monday, March 12, 2007
Ojalá
I'm thinking about the Peace Corps.
Increasingly what started as a joke at work is becoming more appealing and ever so slowly inching toward reality. According to a quiz on its Web site, I'm a very strong candidate and then the quiz suggested I submit an application. I will wait till April and see how I feel. But I'd like to do something selfless for a change and, at the same, I'm sure to be placed in either a Spanish or French speaking country, due to my background in those languages, which would help me toward fluency and maybe to a more permanent spot abroad.
It's not like I have anything keeping me in the US, other than my dog and cat. And that is a very sad statement on my life.
Increasingly what started as a joke at work is becoming more appealing and ever so slowly inching toward reality. According to a quiz on its Web site, I'm a very strong candidate and then the quiz suggested I submit an application. I will wait till April and see how I feel. But I'd like to do something selfless for a change and, at the same, I'm sure to be placed in either a Spanish or French speaking country, due to my background in those languages, which would help me toward fluency and maybe to a more permanent spot abroad.
It's not like I have anything keeping me in the US, other than my dog and cat. And that is a very sad statement on my life.
Friday, March 09, 2007
Mondo Munchies
I can't quite figure out why this photo is posting sideways. On my desktop it's right side up, but oh well.Today I'd like to talk to you about strange snack foods. In Greece we have many oregano flavored snack foods, most notably chips. I recognize this is not American "normal" for snack foods. But I think the oddest thing I've encountered yet is fish flavored snack bits mixed with sweet snack bits in something that approaches trail mix.
After a short Internet search, I discovered that in Japan, they apparently have many fish-flavored snack foods — like the one you see pictured here. This little innocent package with the strange fish with giant eyes on the cover (a hint that much oddness was enclosed, I think) set me off on this search. My friend Evy was kind enough to send it from Japan. (She's such a rebel. She sent it without filling out a customs form. Rebel.) I opened the package last night to have with a beer (as per her suggestion) and thought, "Hmm. Smells like fish." The cat was immediately interested in what I was doing.
I took a bite and thought, "Oh. It TASTES like fish." Then I turned on the lamp next to me and looked at what I was eating and realized it had little bits of dried fish in it. But it also had what seemed to be nuts and something sweet. I can't get over how odd it was. I found this listed on the Internet and while not quite right, it's very close to what I experienced:
Ajigonomi: this handy bagged mix contains everything you need for nutrition from a basic meal: rice crackers, tiny dried fish, peanut flavoring, and no mess! You'll find this in bright red and yellow packaging, sometimes with picture of chilies on it if it's the spicy version.
So tell me, what other strange snack foods from other countries are out there for me to try? I'll keep a running tally of odd foods I've snacked on and how they measure up again' one another.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Ouch
I made an 80 on an essay in Spanish class. That hurts. The whole class did badly, except one girl that had her last semester. She made a 95. The teacher actually told us to STOP being creative. I've never heard that from a teacher. Our prof last semester always wanted us to try new things with our writing so we could learn things. I mean, he didn't want us to use verb tenses we hadn't studied, but he encouraged us to look up words we didn't know. Not this teacher.
I'm not sure what to think of this teacher. I asked her if we were going to get some exercises on the subjunctive usage — not verb endings, but when to use the subjunctive and when to use the present tense and when to use the past tenses. You know, so we can learn the practical applications of the tenses instead of just the theoretical uses. And she said, "The workbook doesn't really have any exercise. I would go to LearnSpanish.com or Google present subjunctive and Spanish. You'll be able to find something like that." I was thinking maybe she could make up some exercises for us to do, but she doesn't really seem to want to do anything requiring materials ancillary to the book and workbook we're using. That seems odd to me.
Other than that, I've spent my time booking travel because I cannot WAIT to get out of here. I'm going stir crazy and I need some socializing outside of my newsroom and classroom confines. I'm going home for Easter but before that I'm going to Chicago for a long weekend. I can't wait. Two and two thirds weeks and counting!
I'm not sure what to think of this teacher. I asked her if we were going to get some exercises on the subjunctive usage — not verb endings, but when to use the subjunctive and when to use the present tense and when to use the past tenses. You know, so we can learn the practical applications of the tenses instead of just the theoretical uses. And she said, "The workbook doesn't really have any exercise. I would go to LearnSpanish.com or Google present subjunctive and Spanish. You'll be able to find something like that." I was thinking maybe she could make up some exercises for us to do, but she doesn't really seem to want to do anything requiring materials ancillary to the book and workbook we're using. That seems odd to me.
Other than that, I've spent my time booking travel because I cannot WAIT to get out of here. I'm going stir crazy and I need some socializing outside of my newsroom and classroom confines. I'm going home for Easter but before that I'm going to Chicago for a long weekend. I can't wait. Two and two thirds weeks and counting!
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Updates all around
Wow. It's been a while since I posted, hasn't it. I don't have too much to report, so I suppose that's why I haven't written. Right now I'm doing the oh so exciting task of writing an employee review. Whoever thought I'd be good for management, clearly never read one of my self reviews, because seriously, I have no idea what I'm doing.
But anyway, to update on several small things:
1. I made a 98 on my Spanish test, though I do not know how. The two mistakes I made that she counted off for, were probably ones I would have caught had I CAREFULLY read back over my test, instead of just glancing through it. I did however, in one of my sentences write "hiver" — the French word for winter — instead of invierno, which confused my teacher mightily. But she did not take off for it, since that wasn't really the point of the exercise. These professors grade so much easier than my French professors did in high school or at LSU.
2. The first big snow storm came and went. They said that about a foot fell. Now we're gearing up for snow fall number two, which is supposed to begin after midnight. I wonder if classes will be canceled tomorrow? Nothing would make me happier than to spend the day in bed.
3. I went to the dentist last week. It's my first time since moving here, so it's been about a year since I was last at the dentist. I haven't had a cavity in 10 years. I have a very acute fear of dentists stemming from some horror-movie type experiences in my childhood. And since I had quite a bit of work done in college (with a dentist I actually liked and more importantly trusted), I have been very careful with my teeth. I have had my wisdom teeth removed and one dentist replaced some of my fillings (he also gave me a bruise on the side of my face that lasted over a month — I never went back to him again) and that is it. My dental hygienists complain they have nothing to do when I go in for cleanings. Then I got to the dentist last week and she says, "You have great teeth, except you have a lot of little cavities." Ten cavities to be exact. Well, two she keeps calling "old cavities" and I finally got it out of her that what she means is I have two old silver fillings that she wants to replace. The eight new cavities are in my premolars - the only teeth currently without fillings. I can't help be suspicious. One cavity, maybe two, I could see but eight?! I plan to call my old dentist on Monday and talk to him about it. After that, I might just postpone my follow up appointment set for a week from Monday till after Easter. I'm going home for Easter and I think I might go by my old dentist and have him take a look in my mouth before I start letting this new one drill holes in there. What do you think?
Oh and the Oscars are tonight. Can you believe it — I haven't seen a single film that's nominated in the major categories? Normally it's odd if there's one I haven't seen. It's been a bad year for me in every sense, it seems.
But anyway, to update on several small things:
1. I made a 98 on my Spanish test, though I do not know how. The two mistakes I made that she counted off for, were probably ones I would have caught had I CAREFULLY read back over my test, instead of just glancing through it. I did however, in one of my sentences write "hiver" — the French word for winter — instead of invierno, which confused my teacher mightily. But she did not take off for it, since that wasn't really the point of the exercise. These professors grade so much easier than my French professors did in high school or at LSU.
2. The first big snow storm came and went. They said that about a foot fell. Now we're gearing up for snow fall number two, which is supposed to begin after midnight. I wonder if classes will be canceled tomorrow? Nothing would make me happier than to spend the day in bed.
3. I went to the dentist last week. It's my first time since moving here, so it's been about a year since I was last at the dentist. I haven't had a cavity in 10 years. I have a very acute fear of dentists stemming from some horror-movie type experiences in my childhood. And since I had quite a bit of work done in college (with a dentist I actually liked and more importantly trusted), I have been very careful with my teeth. I have had my wisdom teeth removed and one dentist replaced some of my fillings (he also gave me a bruise on the side of my face that lasted over a month — I never went back to him again) and that is it. My dental hygienists complain they have nothing to do when I go in for cleanings. Then I got to the dentist last week and she says, "You have great teeth, except you have a lot of little cavities." Ten cavities to be exact. Well, two she keeps calling "old cavities" and I finally got it out of her that what she means is I have two old silver fillings that she wants to replace. The eight new cavities are in my premolars - the only teeth currently without fillings. I can't help be suspicious. One cavity, maybe two, I could see but eight?! I plan to call my old dentist on Monday and talk to him about it. After that, I might just postpone my follow up appointment set for a week from Monday till after Easter. I'm going home for Easter and I think I might go by my old dentist and have him take a look in my mouth before I start letting this new one drill holes in there. What do you think?
Oh and the Oscars are tonight. Can you believe it — I haven't seen a single film that's nominated in the major categories? Normally it's odd if there's one I haven't seen. It's been a bad year for me in every sense, it seems.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Mounds of Laundry
That's the focus of my life right now - laundry and other household chores. I don't understand how it's just me and I can't keep up with the amount of cleaning that needs to be done. I have countless loads of laundry ahead of me tomorrow and I desperately need to vacuum and clean the toilet (and the dog!). Plus I have to get it all done in like six hours so I can go into the city and meet a friend of mine who's only in town for 24 hours.
I have to work on Monday, so what I was planning to stretch over two days, I must now finish in one. Blah. Not much of weekend - seems like more work than my actual work.
(By the way, got my first tutoring check. It was for $7.14 - covering just my one hour of job training. I got a good laugh from that. My first "real" check will come in two weeks...not a moment too soon. Oh, and I have a third student to tutor. This girl is in 101 and has my professor from last semester. I'm sure after I get my first exam back on Monday, I'm going to wish I were back in his class or in 101!)
I have to work on Monday, so what I was planning to stretch over two days, I must now finish in one. Blah. Not much of weekend - seems like more work than my actual work.
(By the way, got my first tutoring check. It was for $7.14 - covering just my one hour of job training. I got a good laugh from that. My first "real" check will come in two weeks...not a moment too soon. Oh, and I have a third student to tutor. This girl is in 101 and has my professor from last semester. I'm sure after I get my first exam back on Monday, I'm going to wish I were back in his class or in 101!)
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
En Todo El Mundo
Good news! I am apparently the best tutor in the whole world.
At least that's my tutoree told my Spanish teacher yesterday (we share the same teacher, just different levels). And my teacher told me today just before she handed out our first exam. I was already feeling great stress because the chapter was so hard and also she is a much tougher professor than my last, so what I really needed just before the first exam is for the expectations of my performance to be ramped up to "world's greatest tutor" status. My tutoree told the professor that I taught her almost all of the vocabulary for chapter 5 in two hours, to which my professor said she responded, "If she's that good, I should just let her teach the class for me!"
The girl in question took Spanish from seventh to 10th grade and then got to college and signed up for 102 and now needs me to essentially reteach her basic Spanish. I think I have my work cut out for me. So we're meeting again tomorrow. I think we'll try and meet at least twice a week, if I'm to catch her up.
I don't meet with my other student until Friday. She was scheduled for Monday but called in sick and asked if we could reschedule to Friday. I wonder what stories, she'll tell the professor (same professor again) about me.
At least that's my tutoree told my Spanish teacher yesterday (we share the same teacher, just different levels). And my teacher told me today just before she handed out our first exam. I was already feeling great stress because the chapter was so hard and also she is a much tougher professor than my last, so what I really needed just before the first exam is for the expectations of my performance to be ramped up to "world's greatest tutor" status. My tutoree told the professor that I taught her almost all of the vocabulary for chapter 5 in two hours, to which my professor said she responded, "If she's that good, I should just let her teach the class for me!"
The girl in question took Spanish from seventh to 10th grade and then got to college and signed up for 102 and now needs me to essentially reteach her basic Spanish. I think I have my work cut out for me. So we're meeting again tomorrow. I think we'll try and meet at least twice a week, if I'm to catch her up.
I don't meet with my other student until Friday. She was scheduled for Monday but called in sick and asked if we could reschedule to Friday. I wonder what stories, she'll tell the professor (same professor again) about me.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
News Hound
I don't know why I didn't think to take a picture of Roland at work, but alas I did not. He was such a good pup today. He pretty much just sat next to me - I took a blanket in for him, put out a bowl of water, gave him a chew and his new stuffed duck and he was super happy. Everyone in the office thought he was great. They kept comment on what a good (and nice) dog he was. He is the best dog ever born! And this is a professional, unbiased opinion.
That's all I wanted to report today. I am so tired right now. I think I'll try and head off to bed soon.
That's all I wanted to report today. I am so tired right now. I think I'll try and head off to bed soon.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
It's 2 a.m. Do you know where your murderers are?
Oh. My. God. I swear I'm beginning to loath Fridays. Listen people, Friday is no time to be murdering families in their sleep. It also no time to be arresting their murderers. Some of us just want to get home at a decent hour and not have to work a 18-hour day on Saturday and Sunday.
Tomorrow I'll will attempt a new experiment. I am taking Roland to the newsroom because I'm afraid his bladder can't take too many more of these 13-hour days.
Also, on a completely different note, if you haven't heard Bruce Springsteen's The Seeger Sessions, check it out now. I have never owned a Springsteen album in my life but I LOVE this one. They play it on the radio here all the time because the Seeger - Pete, in this case - lives in my city. So we sort of claim ownership of the album even though I don't think Springsteen has even ever set foot up this far north. But, whatever. It's good. Trust me.
Tomorrow I'll will attempt a new experiment. I am taking Roland to the newsroom because I'm afraid his bladder can't take too many more of these 13-hour days.
Also, on a completely different note, if you haven't heard Bruce Springsteen's The Seeger Sessions, check it out now. I have never owned a Springsteen album in my life but I LOVE this one. They play it on the radio here all the time because the Seeger - Pete, in this case - lives in my city. So we sort of claim ownership of the album even though I don't think Springsteen has even ever set foot up this far north. But, whatever. It's good. Trust me.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Food Snob
Even in retirement, food writers are so holier-than-thou. But you know right away you can't trust this guy because he found the Omonia Cafe's galactobouriko good. And as those of you who I dragged there know (and those of you who read a previous entry on the subject know) that place is over priced and the pastries, and coffee, for that matter, are bad. Anyway, I also take offense at " Greek cuisine does not, even at its best, ascend to great heights." I have posted (with absolutely no permission from the NYT) the full article below.
January 26, 2007
My City
Queens Now Has Less Feta, More Jellyfish
By WILLIAM GRIMES
LIKE most New York immigrant stories, mine started with a long trip, a small apartment in a humble neighborhood and hope for a better life. Sure enough, I graduated from the little apartment to a bigger one, and then a house. I got a better job and a better life. But 27 years later, the neighborhood remains the same: Astoria, Queens.
Try as I might, I cannot think of a good reason to leave. From the Manhattan perspective, Astoria makes some sense because it is, after all, only a few short subway stops from Bloomingdale’s. If you cannot afford Manhattan, well, Astoria — like Park Slope, Sunnyside, Cobble Hill and all the rest of the runner-up darlings of the real-estate pages — qualifies as a fallback position.
But that’s not how I see it. For me, Astoria is not a satellite of Manhattan, it’s the gateway to Queens, a jumping-off point for the borough that, when it comes to ethnic diversity, knows no equal. For me this is not an abstract demographic issue. It is as real as the food on my plate.
As Astoria has changed, and along with it the rest of Queens, my feeding habits have too, never more so than in the last couple of years. Three years ago I stepped down as The Times’s restaurant critic and re-entered civilian life. Gone were the days of lavish Manhattan meals paid for by my employer. I rediscovered my own kitchen and, at the same time, my own neighborhood. The parasitic life of being fed by others was over. My wife, Nancy, and I were hunter-gatherers again. But the terrain had changed.
In 1980, when my rent was $250 a month, Astoria was heavily Greek and Italian. Broadway, my nearest shopping street, abounded in Italian delicatessens and Greek butchers who hung hairy goat carcasses and fuzzy rabbits in the window. Their number has dwindled with the years. A Swiss butcher named René operated a truly anomalous store, a French-style boucherie. His ancient, white-haired mother sat at the cash register and took the money. René, who looked like an enormous slab of meat, took my orders for, say, noisette of pork, without raising an eyebrow. Alas, René is long gone, as is Walken’s Bakery a few doors away, owned by the family of the actor Christopher Walken.
Other ethnic surprises survive. Although the original owner has retired, Astoria Meat Products continues to sell Eastern European sausages, breads and jams. Big chunks of double-smoked bacon and plump, garlicky kielbasa hang from steel rods overhead. On weekends, when the mood strikes, I still drop by and pick up half a smoked, glazed ham.
The Italians are almost all gone, and many of the Greeks have moved on too. The demise of my favorite Greek deli had one fortunate consequence, though. It led me to Titan Foods, a supermarket that draws Greek shoppers from miles around. This is the place for olives — nearly 20 varieties displayed in big steel cylinders — and for feta cheese in every gradation, from crumbly, salty Greek styles to smoother, milder fetas from Bulgaria. It is almost shocking to report that the French make feta too, the creamiest of all.
The real prize in the deli case at Titan is home-made yogurt, thick, tangy and rich, a different species entirely from the standard grocery store brands. Titan sells the standard Greek pastries from a bakery counter, but I go either to Omonia Cafe, on Broadway, where the phyllo-topped custard is so good that I finally asked the woman behind the counter to pronounce it for me so I could order it by name. It’s: galaktoboreko (guh-lock-tuh-BORE-ee-ko). The baklava is also first-rate — packed with finely chopped nuts, well-seasoned and not too goopy — but there’s an even better version at a hole-in-the-wall on 31st Avenue: Thessalikon Pastry Shop, a caterer that sells its wares, often grudgingly, by the tray.
Let us not romanticize the Greek restaurants of Astoria. For some reason, many a food writer, charmed by the neighborhood, has gone weak in the knees over steam-table moussaka, rubbery fried calamari and greasy lamb shanks. Greek cuisine does not, even at its best, ascend to great heights. For a time, Elias Corner on 31st Street enjoyed a cult reputation that utterly mystified me. It is an estiatorio, a type of restaurant in which customers approach a fish counter, point to their choice and pay by the pound. The fish is painted with some olive oil, strewn with a few herbs and grilled. That’s it.
For some reason, this formula besotted New York for several years, even though rank amateurs could produce the same results at home. I much prefer the five-year-old Agnanti, at the upper end of the neighborhood near Astoria Park, which offers unusual regional dishes like ntaka, a Cretan bread salad, and mustard-dipped shrimp kataifi.
Astoria without Greeks is unthinkable. It is the home not only of Socrates Sculpture Park but also of Socrates Realty and Athena’s nail salon. But in my end of the neighborhood, near the 36th Avenue el stop, the ethnic swirl has brought Bangladeshis, Colombians, Brazilians and Mexicans.
On summer nights, unpredictably, a Bangladeshi vegetable vendor occasionally turns up, his cart heaped high with Asian vegetables sold by no one else. Asian sari shops, sweet shops and grocery stores now line 36th Avenue, along with a video store that brightens the street with its showings of Bollywood musicals on a flat-screen television. On Broadway, one stop north on the N Line, Mexican taquerias flank the off-track betting parlor.
At the far end of the neighborhood, immigrants from Egypt and North Africa have remade a desolate stretch of Steinway Street into a lively boulevard lined with restaurants, hookah cafes and bakeries.
So much for home base. Queens is vast. Over the decades, my explorer’s compass has pointed in wildly different directions. For a while, a Gujarati restaurant in Elmhurst had my full attention, until it burned down. Ping’s and Joe’s Shanghai in Elmhurst also enjoyed my favor. In Woodside, La Flor Bakery and Cafe sells sublime $4 fruit tarts that require two diners to finish them off. My thoughts often turn to them in idle hours.
But Flushing is now my north star. Over the years, an area once in sorry decline has evolved into a pulsating Chinese and Korean neighborhood and a food-lover’s paradise. This is not new news, but it took me a while to catch up. My culinary life has been transformed by the Gold City Supermarket on Kissena Boulevard, a huge, high-energy store, half of it devoted to a dazzling selection of imported sauces, condiments and dried and frozen foods, the other half to produce and meat departments that boggle the mind.
It pays to do some homework before visiting. Although prices are posted, all signs are in Chinese characters. Bruce Cost’s classic “Asian Ingredients” (Morrow Cookbooks) or Huang Su-Huei’s well-illustrated “Chinese Cuisine” (Wei-Chuan) can serve as guides to the aisles stacked with exotic barbecue sauces, light and dark Chinese soy sauces and small treasures like pickled mustard cabbage.
The fish counter is dramatic. I once saw an eel make a break for freedom, slithering across the produce-department floor. Customers like to pick out a live fish, which an impassive fishmonger holds aloft, flopping in a net. A quick whack from a wooden mallet, and the performance is over.
The post-shopping reward is just a few doors away, at the Fay Da Bakery. This is a chain with two outlets in Chinatown and six others scattered across the city. Patrons take a tray, grab a pair of tongs and load up on steamed and fried buns, both savory and sweet. Some are both at once, like a chewy, sticky-rice bun that looks like a honey-dip doughnut outside but inside contains pork bits swimming in a rich gravy.
Then it’s on to downtown Flushing and the J&L Mall. Flushing abounds in monster Chinese restaurants that do a bonanza dim-sum business. But hidden in nooks and corners are tiny stands that offer outstanding bargains. My consigliere in these matters is Harley Spiller, a relentless Chinese-food detective who occasionally sends out field reports to his friends. The “mall” is nothing more than a corridor on Main Street lined by rows of snack stands and lunch counters. Little or no English is spoken, so non-Chinese customers adapt. Finger pointing and basic business terms like “two” or “three” work fine. The stall owners, in my experience, are friendly, accommodating and intrigued to see a non-Chinese customer.
Halfway down the aisle, on the left, a bun stall turns out a variety of large steamed and baked buns at a dollar or two apiece. The best is a crepelike envelope of soft dough encasing chopped chives, egg and glass noodles. A close cousin, which came hot from the oven on my most recent visit, was a big ball of pillowy steamed bread dough filled with egg, glass noodle, chopped Chinese leeks and tiny dried shrimp.
At the entrance of the mall, to the right, the buns come three for a dollar. The staple items are small steamed buns with beef or pork filling, but you can also find sweet fried doughnuts accented with scallion, or sticky rice snacks with a meat and mushroom center. These are steamed in a bamboo leaf and then tied up in a neat package.
At the back of the mall, spicy Szechuan vegetable dishes are sold from a counter by weight. There are about a dozen choices. I picked four at random on my last visit: long strands of pickled seaweed; cabbage and peppercorns in a fragrant, winey pickling broth; cubes of amber, firm tofu with peanuts and sesame seed; and pickled long beans, chopped into tiny slices and tossed with red-pepper flakes.
Flushing may occupy me for a while. There’s another mall just a couple of blocks down Main Street, the Golden Shopping Mall, that merits investigation. And even more seductive is the strangely named Waterfront International Enterprises, a restaurant specializing in the cuisine of northeastern China. It’s cold-weather food, heavily reliant on hearty soups and stews. Grilled whole jellyfish, evidently, is the traditional way to start the meal. Count me in.
January 26, 2007
My City
Queens Now Has Less Feta, More Jellyfish
By WILLIAM GRIMES
LIKE most New York immigrant stories, mine started with a long trip, a small apartment in a humble neighborhood and hope for a better life. Sure enough, I graduated from the little apartment to a bigger one, and then a house. I got a better job and a better life. But 27 years later, the neighborhood remains the same: Astoria, Queens.
Try as I might, I cannot think of a good reason to leave. From the Manhattan perspective, Astoria makes some sense because it is, after all, only a few short subway stops from Bloomingdale’s. If you cannot afford Manhattan, well, Astoria — like Park Slope, Sunnyside, Cobble Hill and all the rest of the runner-up darlings of the real-estate pages — qualifies as a fallback position.
But that’s not how I see it. For me, Astoria is not a satellite of Manhattan, it’s the gateway to Queens, a jumping-off point for the borough that, when it comes to ethnic diversity, knows no equal. For me this is not an abstract demographic issue. It is as real as the food on my plate.
As Astoria has changed, and along with it the rest of Queens, my feeding habits have too, never more so than in the last couple of years. Three years ago I stepped down as The Times’s restaurant critic and re-entered civilian life. Gone were the days of lavish Manhattan meals paid for by my employer. I rediscovered my own kitchen and, at the same time, my own neighborhood. The parasitic life of being fed by others was over. My wife, Nancy, and I were hunter-gatherers again. But the terrain had changed.
In 1980, when my rent was $250 a month, Astoria was heavily Greek and Italian. Broadway, my nearest shopping street, abounded in Italian delicatessens and Greek butchers who hung hairy goat carcasses and fuzzy rabbits in the window. Their number has dwindled with the years. A Swiss butcher named René operated a truly anomalous store, a French-style boucherie. His ancient, white-haired mother sat at the cash register and took the money. René, who looked like an enormous slab of meat, took my orders for, say, noisette of pork, without raising an eyebrow. Alas, René is long gone, as is Walken’s Bakery a few doors away, owned by the family of the actor Christopher Walken.
Other ethnic surprises survive. Although the original owner has retired, Astoria Meat Products continues to sell Eastern European sausages, breads and jams. Big chunks of double-smoked bacon and plump, garlicky kielbasa hang from steel rods overhead. On weekends, when the mood strikes, I still drop by and pick up half a smoked, glazed ham.
The Italians are almost all gone, and many of the Greeks have moved on too. The demise of my favorite Greek deli had one fortunate consequence, though. It led me to Titan Foods, a supermarket that draws Greek shoppers from miles around. This is the place for olives — nearly 20 varieties displayed in big steel cylinders — and for feta cheese in every gradation, from crumbly, salty Greek styles to smoother, milder fetas from Bulgaria. It is almost shocking to report that the French make feta too, the creamiest of all.
The real prize in the deli case at Titan is home-made yogurt, thick, tangy and rich, a different species entirely from the standard grocery store brands. Titan sells the standard Greek pastries from a bakery counter, but I go either to Omonia Cafe, on Broadway, where the phyllo-topped custard is so good that I finally asked the woman behind the counter to pronounce it for me so I could order it by name. It’s: galaktoboreko (guh-lock-tuh-BORE-ee-ko). The baklava is also first-rate — packed with finely chopped nuts, well-seasoned and not too goopy — but there’s an even better version at a hole-in-the-wall on 31st Avenue: Thessalikon Pastry Shop, a caterer that sells its wares, often grudgingly, by the tray.
Let us not romanticize the Greek restaurants of Astoria. For some reason, many a food writer, charmed by the neighborhood, has gone weak in the knees over steam-table moussaka, rubbery fried calamari and greasy lamb shanks. Greek cuisine does not, even at its best, ascend to great heights. For a time, Elias Corner on 31st Street enjoyed a cult reputation that utterly mystified me. It is an estiatorio, a type of restaurant in which customers approach a fish counter, point to their choice and pay by the pound. The fish is painted with some olive oil, strewn with a few herbs and grilled. That’s it.
For some reason, this formula besotted New York for several years, even though rank amateurs could produce the same results at home. I much prefer the five-year-old Agnanti, at the upper end of the neighborhood near Astoria Park, which offers unusual regional dishes like ntaka, a Cretan bread salad, and mustard-dipped shrimp kataifi.
Astoria without Greeks is unthinkable. It is the home not only of Socrates Sculpture Park but also of Socrates Realty and Athena’s nail salon. But in my end of the neighborhood, near the 36th Avenue el stop, the ethnic swirl has brought Bangladeshis, Colombians, Brazilians and Mexicans.
On summer nights, unpredictably, a Bangladeshi vegetable vendor occasionally turns up, his cart heaped high with Asian vegetables sold by no one else. Asian sari shops, sweet shops and grocery stores now line 36th Avenue, along with a video store that brightens the street with its showings of Bollywood musicals on a flat-screen television. On Broadway, one stop north on the N Line, Mexican taquerias flank the off-track betting parlor.
At the far end of the neighborhood, immigrants from Egypt and North Africa have remade a desolate stretch of Steinway Street into a lively boulevard lined with restaurants, hookah cafes and bakeries.
So much for home base. Queens is vast. Over the decades, my explorer’s compass has pointed in wildly different directions. For a while, a Gujarati restaurant in Elmhurst had my full attention, until it burned down. Ping’s and Joe’s Shanghai in Elmhurst also enjoyed my favor. In Woodside, La Flor Bakery and Cafe sells sublime $4 fruit tarts that require two diners to finish them off. My thoughts often turn to them in idle hours.
But Flushing is now my north star. Over the years, an area once in sorry decline has evolved into a pulsating Chinese and Korean neighborhood and a food-lover’s paradise. This is not new news, but it took me a while to catch up. My culinary life has been transformed by the Gold City Supermarket on Kissena Boulevard, a huge, high-energy store, half of it devoted to a dazzling selection of imported sauces, condiments and dried and frozen foods, the other half to produce and meat departments that boggle the mind.
It pays to do some homework before visiting. Although prices are posted, all signs are in Chinese characters. Bruce Cost’s classic “Asian Ingredients” (Morrow Cookbooks) or Huang Su-Huei’s well-illustrated “Chinese Cuisine” (Wei-Chuan) can serve as guides to the aisles stacked with exotic barbecue sauces, light and dark Chinese soy sauces and small treasures like pickled mustard cabbage.
The fish counter is dramatic. I once saw an eel make a break for freedom, slithering across the produce-department floor. Customers like to pick out a live fish, which an impassive fishmonger holds aloft, flopping in a net. A quick whack from a wooden mallet, and the performance is over.
The post-shopping reward is just a few doors away, at the Fay Da Bakery. This is a chain with two outlets in Chinatown and six others scattered across the city. Patrons take a tray, grab a pair of tongs and load up on steamed and fried buns, both savory and sweet. Some are both at once, like a chewy, sticky-rice bun that looks like a honey-dip doughnut outside but inside contains pork bits swimming in a rich gravy.
Then it’s on to downtown Flushing and the J&L Mall. Flushing abounds in monster Chinese restaurants that do a bonanza dim-sum business. But hidden in nooks and corners are tiny stands that offer outstanding bargains. My consigliere in these matters is Harley Spiller, a relentless Chinese-food detective who occasionally sends out field reports to his friends. The “mall” is nothing more than a corridor on Main Street lined by rows of snack stands and lunch counters. Little or no English is spoken, so non-Chinese customers adapt. Finger pointing and basic business terms like “two” or “three” work fine. The stall owners, in my experience, are friendly, accommodating and intrigued to see a non-Chinese customer.
Halfway down the aisle, on the left, a bun stall turns out a variety of large steamed and baked buns at a dollar or two apiece. The best is a crepelike envelope of soft dough encasing chopped chives, egg and glass noodles. A close cousin, which came hot from the oven on my most recent visit, was a big ball of pillowy steamed bread dough filled with egg, glass noodle, chopped Chinese leeks and tiny dried shrimp.
At the entrance of the mall, to the right, the buns come three for a dollar. The staple items are small steamed buns with beef or pork filling, but you can also find sweet fried doughnuts accented with scallion, or sticky rice snacks with a meat and mushroom center. These are steamed in a bamboo leaf and then tied up in a neat package.
At the back of the mall, spicy Szechuan vegetable dishes are sold from a counter by weight. There are about a dozen choices. I picked four at random on my last visit: long strands of pickled seaweed; cabbage and peppercorns in a fragrant, winey pickling broth; cubes of amber, firm tofu with peanuts and sesame seed; and pickled long beans, chopped into tiny slices and tossed with red-pepper flakes.
Flushing may occupy me for a while. There’s another mall just a couple of blocks down Main Street, the Golden Shopping Mall, that merits investigation. And even more seductive is the strangely named Waterfront International Enterprises, a restaurant specializing in the cuisine of northeastern China. It’s cold-weather food, heavily reliant on hearty soups and stews. Grilled whole jellyfish, evidently, is the traditional way to start the meal. Count me in.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Español
Things have been a little crazy here lately. In the last week, I've started back with Spanish classes (I'm at 200-level now) and a family of five was murdered in the town I technically live in (though my mailing address says I live elsewhere) and then their house was set on fire to cover the murder. That has meant very, very long days and late nights for me and very few days off. I have been chained to this computer Webbing....always Webbing...updates to the story, and of course directing reporters and photographers.
I was so tired Tuesday night that I came home from work, took the dog out to pee and apparently forgot, not only to lock the door, but to shut it all the way. So Wednesday morning my cat escaped into the hallway, got in a fight with a dog and then ran into my upstairs neighbor's apartment when he opened the door to go to work and hid under his bed. I was awakened by said neighbor, who just moved in last week, gently knocking on my door. Though I was still very much asleep, I managed to stumble upstairs in my pjs, wedge myself under the bed and reclaim the cat – not wihtout serious woundage. Always a nice introduction to the new neighbors.
Anyway, all you could ever want to know about the murdered family can be found at: www.poughkeepsiejournal.com/MOREY
I won't even bother going into it because I'm tired of talking about it and seriously there's more there than I would ever have the energy to recreate here. If you have any additional questions you can ask them here, though. Or you can join in the spirited story chats, which blame the murders on everyone from the Republicans to illegal Jamaican immigrants to the Mob.
Tonight, however, I got out relatively early (considering they bulldozed the crime scene and Anderson Cooper 360 did a piece on the murders today) and so I have a little time to lock my doors and blog. I also had orientation today to be a Spanish tutor for the 100-level students. Before we started back to classes, I got a post card in the mail from the college asking me to sign up as a tutor based on my grade point average in 102. (I have a 4.0. Ah, if only Professor Chumley could see me know. So I barely made it through French classes. Now, NOW, I'm a linguist.) They pay. And I could use the extra money and the language practice.
So far 201 is very hard. The first chapter - the chapter we are on now - is all about the environment. And while the previous chapters on food and clothing and family all featured words I had some familiarity with through day-to-day life, chatting about the hole in ozone layer (el agujero en la capa de ozono) and nuclear waste (los desperdicios nucleares) are not conversations I imagine ever having much need for. [Yes, waiter, I'll have a margarita and how about the destruction of the rain forests (la selva tropical). That sucks, huh?] Hopefully, I'll be able to keep that 4.0 this semester.
I was so tired Tuesday night that I came home from work, took the dog out to pee and apparently forgot, not only to lock the door, but to shut it all the way. So Wednesday morning my cat escaped into the hallway, got in a fight with a dog and then ran into my upstairs neighbor's apartment when he opened the door to go to work and hid under his bed. I was awakened by said neighbor, who just moved in last week, gently knocking on my door. Though I was still very much asleep, I managed to stumble upstairs in my pjs, wedge myself under the bed and reclaim the cat – not wihtout serious woundage. Always a nice introduction to the new neighbors.
Anyway, all you could ever want to know about the murdered family can be found at: www.poughkeepsiejournal.com/MOREY
I won't even bother going into it because I'm tired of talking about it and seriously there's more there than I would ever have the energy to recreate here. If you have any additional questions you can ask them here, though. Or you can join in the spirited story chats, which blame the murders on everyone from the Republicans to illegal Jamaican immigrants to the Mob.
Tonight, however, I got out relatively early (considering they bulldozed the crime scene and Anderson Cooper 360 did a piece on the murders today) and so I have a little time to lock my doors and blog. I also had orientation today to be a Spanish tutor for the 100-level students. Before we started back to classes, I got a post card in the mail from the college asking me to sign up as a tutor based on my grade point average in 102. (I have a 4.0. Ah, if only Professor Chumley could see me know. So I barely made it through French classes. Now, NOW, I'm a linguist.) They pay. And I could use the extra money and the language practice.
So far 201 is very hard. The first chapter - the chapter we are on now - is all about the environment. And while the previous chapters on food and clothing and family all featured words I had some familiarity with through day-to-day life, chatting about the hole in ozone layer (el agujero en la capa de ozono) and nuclear waste (los desperdicios nucleares) are not conversations I imagine ever having much need for. [Yes, waiter, I'll have a margarita and how about the destruction of the rain forests (la selva tropical). That sucks, huh?] Hopefully, I'll be able to keep that 4.0 this semester.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Snow Pup
These are from this morning. Roland LOVES snow. He was running around, digging his nose in it, eating it - basically, acting like a crazy little puppy. Most of it has melted now that the sun has come out and the yard is just a muddy mess. But we hold out hope that more snow will come before the end of the season.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
First snow
Yeah! At last!
I mean, yeah, it's the most pathetic snow you've ever seen. By the time I left work tonight, I didn't even have to scrap anything off my windshield and all the roads were clear. But earlier in the day there were like 60 accidents due to the ice and snow. I guess everyone was just really excited about the snow and trying to cram the whole winter into one day because who knows if we'll get any more (snow).
There's still a light dusting of white stuff on the grass. If there's any in the morning I'll post a photo. All I have is the digital camera on my phone and the one built into my computer, so I can't really take photos at night - not so you can tell what the hell the photo is supposed to be, at least.
I mean, yeah, it's the most pathetic snow you've ever seen. By the time I left work tonight, I didn't even have to scrap anything off my windshield and all the roads were clear. But earlier in the day there were like 60 accidents due to the ice and snow. I guess everyone was just really excited about the snow and trying to cram the whole winter into one day because who knows if we'll get any more (snow).
There's still a light dusting of white stuff on the grass. If there's any in the morning I'll post a photo. All I have is the digital camera on my phone and the one built into my computer, so I can't really take photos at night - not so you can tell what the hell the photo is supposed to be, at least.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Laughter = good. Booing = bad.
So Letterman was very cool. While the guests weren't the greatest due to all the stars being in LA for the Golden Globes, I did love seeing Amy Sedaris. There was some magician (I can't remember his name). He did some slight of hand card tricks. It was okay. Then, the weirdest part, America played with Ryan Adams and Ben someone-or-another. I'm sure the kids know him. But what WAS cool was that I was in the fourth row right behind the band - spitting distance, not that I would spit on them. I think that would have been frowned upon.I was there by myself, which was a little weird since everyone else was all coupled up, but my guest couldn't make it so they recycled his ticket to the standby audience. Aside from the standby audience, the show also sends people out to Times Square to hand out tickets. I guess they want a diversified audience.
There is A LOT of pepping the audience up by the interns before the show. That quickly grew tiresome. Actually I was more excited about being at the show BEFORE they started trying to get us excited about being at the show. Anyway, what happens is you show up at 2 p.m. to queue for the tickets you've already been given. You get to the front, you tell the guy your last name, you show your ID. They send you inside. You go to another person who asks, "Who's list are you on?" I told her I was on Jamie's. They send you to another person who asks your name and checks your ID again. Then they hand you your ticket. You go stand in a group and they tell you to come back at 3:30 p.m. and stand in line again...this time lining up in the order of the number on your ticket. I was 54 (I think. I can't remember, exactly now.)
I had an hour to kill so I went to Starbucks. A little before 3:30, I return, queue up again. In the first line I had made friends with the people behind me, Vivian from Alabama and Robert from England. And so that gave me something to do in the second queue as well since they were right behind me. Anyway, after waiting for a while, they cram you into the foyer of the theatre and talk to you about what you can and can't do (yes to clapping; no to booing. yes to laughing no to high pitched sounds like whistling and "woo-hoo"s because of the finely tuned microphones or something like that). They go on about how important it is to be animated and to laugh LOUD even if you're not sure something is funny. And so on. Finally we are let into the theatre and there are staffers whose job it is to direct the pretty people (I guess) to the floor and the un-TV friendly people up to the balcony. Once in the theatre proper, staffers direct you to the front or the back, to the aisle or inside. I'm not sure what it says about me that I was so close. But I was glad for the view of the band.
There's a warm up guy that tells jokes, they show funny clips of Dave skits, the band plays. Then Dave comes out a few minutes before the show and talks to the audience. Then the show starts. Most of the show is obscured. You can't see anything because of all the cameras on stage. Probably the people in the balcony can actually see what's going on stage better. Meanwhile we are watching it on monitors.
During the commercial breaks Dave and the writers are constantly scratching out notes and rewriting the next bit. That was weird to me. You'd think they'd have it mostly set by the time the show starts.
The hour went by fast. There was only one screw up that they did over. That was when Dave was introducing America and he stumbled and then called the cue card guy over to confer. Then the band started back up and they came in from "commercial break" again. I've never been an America fan but they were great. And when they went out to commercial break, the Late Show band started playing the "Through the desert on a horse with no name" song, which I think is the only one of its songs that I know. So America joins in and the lead singer starts singing the lyrics, totally impromptu, and they finished the song coming back in from commercial break. That was a nice moment.
And then it's over and everyone is dumped back out in the cold before you even know it.
I walked back to Grand Central afterward. I needed the air to slap me back to reality. But the walk was also over too soon. I suppose I could have kept walking, but instead I caught the 6:51 home.
I guess I'll watch it again tonight. See if it seems different on my TV at home, though since I watched most of it on the monitor the first time around, I suppose it won't.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
S'no Snow
Today breaks the record - since we started keeping records - of longest this part of NY has gone without snow. The previous record, set in the winter of 1954/55, was Jan. 13. What we have today is just rain. There was some talk it might be sleet but I think that was just wishful thinking on someone's part. I'm not complaining, though. Being eased into winter is fine by me. It won't bother me if we don't get snow all year. That way I don't have to worry about going out in it at 5 a.m. to move my scooter when the snow ploys come to clear the parking lot. That's a broken hip waiting to happen.
Anyway, there's an idiot who posts to our Web site that believes we've had snowless winters lots of times and this whole idea of Global Warming (note: the article in question says nothing about global warming, just about breaking the record and how despite the lack of snow, some snow-related businesses are still making money) is a vast liberal conspiracy. Though, quite honestly, I'm not sure what there is to gain in such a conspiracy. I would think one that generated some quick cash would be better to perpetrate if you going to go about thinking up conspiracies to throw down on the world's people. But maybe I'm just thinking that way because I could my cash-generating conspiracy right now.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Live from New York...
Earlier this week, it hit me - and I'm not sure why I didn't realized this before - I live in New York, home of live television broadcasts. I am a child of television. I love it. I have had cable my whole life, back when cable was 14 stations and channel 14 was ACTS, channel 8 was TBS and channel 9 was WGN. There was no MTV and no CNN and then I remember one day, suddenly there was channel 16 - an all sports channel (who needed that much sports?!).
Anyway, I digress. New York is the home of live television. It's home to the national nightly newscasts. It's home to Saturday Night Live. It is home to soap operas, and talk shows. I even drove by the Ed Sullivan Theatre last week and said, "I wish I could see Letterman live." Then Monday I realized, "Oh. Wait. I CAN see Letterman." I'm off every Monday. So I go online to the Web site and I sign up for tickets. This involves you putting in your name, a phone number, three choices of dates of shows and your guest's name.
I signed up for Jan. 15, the next Monday, and then the next two Mondays after. They take all the names, put them in a big hat (or something) and start drawing for tickets. If they draw your name, you get a call, which quite surprisingly I did today. A guy asked if I could still make the Monday taping. I said yes. He said, "Good call Jamie at this number today. She's an audience coordinator. She'll ask you a trivia question about the show, if you get it right, you get the tickets."
I was a little surprised I got a call at because I always had the impression tickets were hard to come by. (Those long lines outside the theatre they sometimes show during tapings don't really help dispel that impression, although now I think it's just the second taping's audience waiting for the early taping to end and theirs to begin.) But I was convince that though I had watched Letterman since, I don't know, I was 11 (I was supposed to be asleep, but I'd stuff towels under the door and turn the volume down super low and put my head up against the TV so I could hear it), I would not be able to answer any trivia questions. I'm very bad at trivia as anyone who has played Trivial Pursuit with me can attest.
But a quick search of the Internet turned up a few hints about what kind of questions they asked ("Who was Letterman's first guest on CBS?" - Bill Murray, in case you're wondering, who was also his first quest when Late Nite w/DL premiered on NBC "What is the name of the cue card holder?" "What is the bass player's name in the band?" ) So I hit the official site, brushed up on my cast and band members and executive producers and called Jamie. I had to leave a message.
About 45 minutes later I got a call back. She was very nice, actually, and she laughed a lot. I thought someone like that might be cranky because of all the people you must talk to in a day, but she was very pleasant and seemed almost like she wanted to stay on the phone all day and chat. Anyway, she asked if I and my guest were both over 18. If we'd be able to attend the early taping. Then she asked if I watched the show very often. I told her I used to watch it all the time, but now I work nights and don't get to as often as I did before.
Anyway, so my trivia question was, "He's at the beginning of every show. Who is Alan Kalter?" He's the announcer, by the way. After I answered, I added, "Well that wasn't so hard." Jamie found this funny and laughed and then said, "No. We don't try to trick you or anything."
So on Monday, we pick up our ticket's between 2-3 p.m. and the taping lasts from 4:30-5:30 p.m. The weird thing is the tickets are actually issued in your name and the name of your guest - as they appear on your picture ID. Each person has to pick up their own ticket and the tickets are non-transferable. It's like checking in for a flight or something.
Last Monday I also put in for Daily Show tickets. I'm interested to see how that ticket process goes. I think I'll try signing up for every show that tapes in New York. I'll try to work my way around to all of them eventually. That could be funny. Saturday Night Live will be tricky, though, as I am usually at work when it comes on. Oh well, there's always calling in sick. (Sure to be followed closely by the embarrassment of being seen on national television the night you were supposed to be suffering from the stomach flu.)
Anyway, I digress. New York is the home of live television. It's home to the national nightly newscasts. It's home to Saturday Night Live. It is home to soap operas, and talk shows. I even drove by the Ed Sullivan Theatre last week and said, "I wish I could see Letterman live." Then Monday I realized, "Oh. Wait. I CAN see Letterman." I'm off every Monday. So I go online to the Web site and I sign up for tickets. This involves you putting in your name, a phone number, three choices of dates of shows and your guest's name.
I signed up for Jan. 15, the next Monday, and then the next two Mondays after. They take all the names, put them in a big hat (or something) and start drawing for tickets. If they draw your name, you get a call, which quite surprisingly I did today. A guy asked if I could still make the Monday taping. I said yes. He said, "Good call Jamie at this number today. She's an audience coordinator. She'll ask you a trivia question about the show, if you get it right, you get the tickets."
I was a little surprised I got a call at because I always had the impression tickets were hard to come by. (Those long lines outside the theatre they sometimes show during tapings don't really help dispel that impression, although now I think it's just the second taping's audience waiting for the early taping to end and theirs to begin.) But I was convince that though I had watched Letterman since, I don't know, I was 11 (I was supposed to be asleep, but I'd stuff towels under the door and turn the volume down super low and put my head up against the TV so I could hear it), I would not be able to answer any trivia questions. I'm very bad at trivia as anyone who has played Trivial Pursuit with me can attest.
But a quick search of the Internet turned up a few hints about what kind of questions they asked ("Who was Letterman's first guest on CBS?" - Bill Murray, in case you're wondering, who was also his first quest when Late Nite w/DL premiered on NBC "What is the name of the cue card holder?" "What is the bass player's name in the band?" ) So I hit the official site, brushed up on my cast and band members and executive producers and called Jamie. I had to leave a message.
About 45 minutes later I got a call back. She was very nice, actually, and she laughed a lot. I thought someone like that might be cranky because of all the people you must talk to in a day, but she was very pleasant and seemed almost like she wanted to stay on the phone all day and chat. Anyway, she asked if I and my guest were both over 18. If we'd be able to attend the early taping. Then she asked if I watched the show very often. I told her I used to watch it all the time, but now I work nights and don't get to as often as I did before.
Anyway, so my trivia question was, "He's at the beginning of every show. Who is Alan Kalter?" He's the announcer, by the way. After I answered, I added, "Well that wasn't so hard." Jamie found this funny and laughed and then said, "No. We don't try to trick you or anything."
So on Monday, we pick up our ticket's between 2-3 p.m. and the taping lasts from 4:30-5:30 p.m. The weird thing is the tickets are actually issued in your name and the name of your guest - as they appear on your picture ID. Each person has to pick up their own ticket and the tickets are non-transferable. It's like checking in for a flight or something.
Last Monday I also put in for Daily Show tickets. I'm interested to see how that ticket process goes. I think I'll try signing up for every show that tapes in New York. I'll try to work my way around to all of them eventually. That could be funny. Saturday Night Live will be tricky, though, as I am usually at work when it comes on. Oh well, there's always calling in sick. (Sure to be followed closely by the embarrassment of being seen on national television the night you were supposed to be suffering from the stomach flu.)
Friday, January 12, 2007
A Quickie from the NY Times
It looks like nothing more than a 22-foot-long, 4-foot-wide hole in the ground. But (Thursday), when a 180-foot-tall crane lowers a gigantic steel cage down into the trench, construction will begin on the first section of a $174 million wall more than 1,200 feet long.
Resting on bedrock more than 70 feet deep, the concrete wall will keep groundwater from inundating four ground zero office towers, a new transit hub and half a million square feet of retail space.
The wall' s unglamorous official name is the East Bathtub, and it will encompass the margins of Liberty, Church and Vesey Streets, connecting to the concrete bulwark surrounding the World Trade Center.
Filling the trench, at Greenwich and Liberty Streets, "is a significant first step in beginning the commercial and retail components of the site," said Anthony R. Coscia, chairman of the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey.
I like the name East Bathtub...I don't know why. I think it tugs a my curiosity and makes me pause in my normally rushed day to think, "Why East Bathtub....where in the world did that come from." I find it a little bit off-putting but at the same time relaxing...like finding a small park in the most unlikely place.
Resting on bedrock more than 70 feet deep, the concrete wall will keep groundwater from inundating four ground zero office towers, a new transit hub and half a million square feet of retail space.
The wall' s unglamorous official name is the East Bathtub, and it will encompass the margins of Liberty, Church and Vesey Streets, connecting to the concrete bulwark surrounding the World Trade Center.
Filling the trench, at Greenwich and Liberty Streets, "is a significant first step in beginning the commercial and retail components of the site," said Anthony R. Coscia, chairman of the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey.
I like the name East Bathtub...I don't know why. I think it tugs a my curiosity and makes me pause in my normally rushed day to think, "Why East Bathtub....where in the world did that come from." I find it a little bit off-putting but at the same time relaxing...like finding a small park in the most unlikely place.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
The Big Smell
So apparently the city smells. My brother and I were down in lower Manhattan today and we were totally oblivious to the smell till someone mentioned it at lunch (along with all the dead birds in Austin....X-Files, anyone?). All I noticed today was that it was way colder than the weather people said it was going to be. I was not nearly warm enough for my comfort. This lead to much drinking of coffee.The first place we hit up was Zagats rated. That's weird, right? Anyway it was called Kudo Beans, according to my receipt. It was on First Avenue, I think (maybe it was Second. I can't remember now) North of Houston. They had excellent coffee. I recommend it should you find yourself over that way.
We had met someone for lunch at Katz's Deli, which apparently -despite being there since 1886 or something crazy like that - was made famous by the orgasm scene in When Harry Met Sally. I didn't realize it till we got there. The pastrami was pretty good. I'd didn't care for the corned beef, however. I'm not sure the food really lives up to the expectations. Plus it is PRICEY. One sandwich, with no fries or any side, costs between $12-$16. I think you're paying a lot for the reputation.
Later in the day, after wandering through Chinatown and gaping at the flatten roasted(?) chickens and still flopping fish in the stores, we went out to Astoria (where I found an excellent sale at the GAP on a chunky knit scarf - FINALLY, Elizabeth, FINALLY - I almost went back upstairs when I checked out and realized the scarf even cheaper than expected, $2, to buy the scarf in every color they had plus extras to give as gifts, but I didn't want to embarrass my brother). Anyway, back to Astoria, I had a second unsatisfactory visit to Omonia. It also claims to be Zagats rated, but it must be poorly rate because the desserts and the coffees there sucked again. Last time the desserts all tasted about three and half weeks old. This time something was just off with it, but I can't explain what. So that's it. I think I'm going to have to write that place off and search for Greek desserts/pasthas elsewhere in the city. I'll keep you update as my search continues.
Anyway, in case you missed all the stories and late show jokes about the stinky air, here's the story - once again AP story totally illegally posted below:
Mysterious natural gas-odor leaves NYC
KAREN MATTHEWS
Associated Press
NEW YORK - They bombarded 911 with calls, crowded the sidewalks in front of evacuated buildings and tuned to the news for word of what was happening. The question on the minds of many New Yorkers on Monday morning was: "What's that smell?"
A natural gas-like odor hung over much of Manhattan and parts of New Jersey, confounding authorities. The smell seemed to be gone by early afternoon.
Mayor Michael Bloomberg said there was no indication the air was unsafe. "It may just be an unpleasant smell," he said. He said sensors did not show an unusually high concentration of natural gas, and the city's major utility company reported it found no gas leaks.
The mayor said the smell may have been caused by a leak of a substance called mercaptan that is added to natural gas for safety reasons to give it a recognizable odor. By itself, natural gas is odorless.
Some commuter trains running between New Jersey and Manhattan were suspended for about an hour as a precaution. A few city schools were briefly evacuated. Some apartment dwellers were advised to close their windows.
Homeland Security spokesman Russ Knocke said there was nothing to suggest terrorism.
"That smell was stinking. It smelled like, toxic," said Alfred Stewart, 47, who lives in an apartment in Manhattan's Chelsea section. He said it smelled like a mix of oil and kerosene: "You stayed in it and held it enough, you probably would have got dizzy from it."
Twelve people were taken to hospitals with minor complaints such as irritation and difficulty breathing, fire officials said.
The Fire Department began getting calls around 9 a.m. Gas provider Con Edison said it fielded 700 calls from people worried about the smell, from as far north as Washington Heights to as far south as Greenwich Village and as far east as Lexington Avenue.
Con Edison spokesman Chris Olert said more than 60 utility workers fanned out across Manhattan's West Side but found no indication of a gas leak.
Norman Thomas High School on East 33rd Street was evacuated for about a half-hour.
Susan Badger, a retiree who lives in Chelsea, said she left her apartment building to escape the smell. "If it's throughout the whole city, it seems that it must be a lot of gas. It's really extreme," she said.
Complaints about the odor also came from New Jersey, across the Hudson River from Manhattan. But no air sampling was done there because officials had no specific location to investigate, said Elaine Makatura, a spokeswoman for the state Department of Environmental Protection.
New York City is no stranger to odd smells.
In 2005, a maple syrup aroma spread across Manhattan twice within a matter of weeks. Environmental officials sent teams into neighborhoods where the calls originated but found nothing dangerous and could not explain the smell.
Last August, seven people were treated for headaches and nausea after a gaseous odor was reported in Queens and Staten Island. Its source remains a mystery.
---
Associated Press writers Jeffrey Gold in Newark, N.J., and Samantha Gross, Deepti Hajela, Ula Ilnytzky and Amy Westfeldt in New York City contributed to this report.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Construction begins...
...Even as they continue to discover more body parts in the area. They found two bones today on a service road at Ground Zero. It's creepy to be down there while construction is going on and look around and think, "There could be body parts under my feet right now." AP story totally illegally posted below:
(AP) NEW YORK Workers digging up a road at the World Trade Center site in a search for remains of Sept. 11 victims found two more bones on Tuesday.
The remains, about 1 to 2 inches long, were found during excavation of the street-level service road on the west end of the lower Manhattan site, said Ellen Borakove, spokeswoman for the city medical examiner's office.
The bones, along with four recovered last week, were the first to be found in the dirt and debris that make up the road, which carries dozens of construction trucks a day into ground zero. More than 200 other remains have been found in several manholes beneath the road since October.
City officials overseeing the search announced on Friday they would dig up three-quarters of the road, which runs about four blocks, to locate additional human remains from victims of the 2001 terrorist attack.
They also said they would partially search other sections of the road located closer to the site of a planned 1,776-foot skyscraper to replace the twin towers. Heavy construction of the Freedom Tower has been under way for months.
The medical examiner's office said it hopes to match DNA profiles to some of the bones that are being recovered, perhaps to identify some 40 percent of the 2,749 people killed in the Sept. 11 attack, whose families have never received remains.
Borakove said Tuesday that none of the remains located at ground zero since October -- and none of the more than 700 remains found in the past year at a nearby skyscraper -- has been positively identified.
Officials overseeing ground zero have said they will keep one lane of traffic open on the road during the excavation to prevent construction delays. A transit hub and a Sept. 11 memorial also are under construction.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Celebrity Sighting Numero Uno
So I had my first celebrity sighting since moving to NYC. It's pretty pathetic. I mean, I know this city is lousy with famous people, but apparently I don't run in the same circles with them. No, my first celebrity sighting is the man who coulda been president had about a zillion more people taken him seriously and someone other than Jamie voted for him (seriously, I have no idea if Jamie voted for him, he just seemed like the friend most likely to). I crossed 5th Avenue today at 54 Street around 5:30 p.m. and was momentarily confused by seeing the shorter-than-expected Rev. Al Sharpton right in front of me. A young black man ran up to him with a disposable camera and got his picture taken. And then off Al went.
I turned to my brother and said, "That was Al Sharpton!"
To which my 25-year-old brother replied, "Who?"
So I turned to my cousin, who is about 7 years older than me and said, "That was the Rev. Al Sharpton."
I got the same response.
Quite frankly, I was a little flabbergasted. Then again, the same cousin on Saturday when we were out at the Statue of Liberty asked me why the flags were half staff.
I said, "Because a president died."
And she said, "Which president?"
I don't know why we in the newspaper business even bother. We should just write about puppies and babies and weird crime because nobody cares about anything else.
I turned to my brother and said, "That was Al Sharpton!"
To which my 25-year-old brother replied, "Who?"
So I turned to my cousin, who is about 7 years older than me and said, "That was the Rev. Al Sharpton."
I got the same response.
Quite frankly, I was a little flabbergasted. Then again, the same cousin on Saturday when we were out at the Statue of Liberty asked me why the flags were half staff.
I said, "Because a president died."
And she said, "Which president?"
I don't know why we in the newspaper business even bother. We should just write about puppies and babies and weird crime because nobody cares about anything else.
Monday, January 01, 2007
(Emerald) Nuts to you Times Square
While we (my cousin, my brother and I) went to stare wide-eyed at all the 1 million crazies in Time Square last night/early this morning, we wound up in Central Park to ring in the new year. There is a midnight marathon that kicks off with a fire works show (see sad pathetic picture I took via camera phone). And there was music, free nuts (the race was sponsored by Emerald Nuts) and best of all all the port-o-potty's you could ever want. Take THAT Times Square. It was a good time, actually. Very laid back...although I neglected to bring any champagne for midnight. I'll be better prepared next year.
Happy 07, all!
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Little Cup o' Mine
So among the trio of hilarious gifts I received today from Melinda was this ceramic version of a paper cup often seen in the hands of New Yorkers who have gotten their diner coffee to go. I have no idea where she found it, but it cracks me up and I plan on using it forever, now. I have no need for any other coffee cup. I have found my true love.It was a good gift and it cheered me up, which I needed on spending my first Christmas alone. I didn't think it would be so bad, but spending Christmas alone actually is very sad and I hope never to do it again. Even working on Christmas (which I've done a number of times) wasn't as bad as sitting alone with the dog and cat and watching the TV for, oh, I don't know, maybe 12 hours. I crammed in a marathon of Christmas-y movies including Love Actually, Scrooged, Nightmare Before Christmas. I also watched disc one of the House of Elliot, which came to me via Netflix - the other true love of my life.
Well tomorrow it's back to work, which I am dreading because our new editor lives only to bring us pain. But that is another story for another day.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Merry Christmas
I hope I'm not being too old fashioned by wishing everyone a Merry Christmas, instead of Happy Holidays or Happy Shopping Season or whatever is trendy right now. I still think of it as Christmas. Call me crazy.
Monday, December 18, 2006
The Great Mouse Caper
So you would not believe how incredibly hard it is to find Mickey Mouse-related items for children these days! My search was for Toddler 3 girls clothing, but I was also interested in any books or stuffed Mickeys they might have.
I started my search at what I thought was the most obvious place, The Disney Store. Boy, was I wrong! It's all Princess stuff for the girls (Belle, Cinderella, The Little Mermaid) and Pirates of the Caribbean and that Cars movie for boys. There was also The Incredibles, a few Winnie the Pooh items, and Dumbo - I didn't even know kids these days knew about Dumbo!
Disney really needs to go back to its roots. Obviously Mickey still sells. Kids still love that giant mouse. And Disney still uses him and the Mrs, the dogs and the ducks as their mascots. When people think Disney they don't think Captain Jack Sparrow, they think Scrooge McDuck, especially now at Christmas.
So after combing the entire mall, I'm embarrassed to say I finally found some Mickey gear at KMart. I guess I should be glad SOMEONE still appreciates the power of the Mouse.
I started my search at what I thought was the most obvious place, The Disney Store. Boy, was I wrong! It's all Princess stuff for the girls (Belle, Cinderella, The Little Mermaid) and Pirates of the Caribbean and that Cars movie for boys. There was also The Incredibles, a few Winnie the Pooh items, and Dumbo - I didn't even know kids these days knew about Dumbo!
Disney really needs to go back to its roots. Obviously Mickey still sells. Kids still love that giant mouse. And Disney still uses him and the Mrs, the dogs and the ducks as their mascots. When people think Disney they don't think Captain Jack Sparrow, they think Scrooge McDuck, especially now at Christmas.
So after combing the entire mall, I'm embarrassed to say I finally found some Mickey gear at KMart. I guess I should be glad SOMEONE still appreciates the power of the Mouse.
Washingdog Square
This is what I love about New York.
I know I haven't been here that long - only about eight months, and there are people, I'm sure who would say, "You can't go around saying, 'This is what I love about New York' when you haven't even been there a year." - but I don't think this will change.
What I love is that you can go to a place that you think you know so well; where you think, perhaps, you've seen just about everything there is to see - drugs, sex, Jews for Jesus, 9-11 conspiracists - and then one day you go there and, inexplicably, there's a Wiener Dog convention.
How did they all know when and where to show up?
And how is it a collection of such odd and oblong little dogs would put one into such a state of wonderment that no number of men dressed as women shouting at trees could ever match?
I know I haven't been here that long - only about eight months, and there are people, I'm sure who would say, "You can't go around saying, 'This is what I love about New York' when you haven't even been there a year." - but I don't think this will change.
What I love is that you can go to a place that you think you know so well; where you think, perhaps, you've seen just about everything there is to see - drugs, sex, Jews for Jesus, 9-11 conspiracists - and then one day you go there and, inexplicably, there's a Wiener Dog convention.
How did they all know when and where to show up?
And how is it a collection of such odd and oblong little dogs would put one into such a state of wonderment that no number of men dressed as women shouting at trees could ever match?
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Friday, March 24, 2006
Say my name, say my name
So I just realized last night, as I was filling out the return card for this wedding that's vexing my life, that my name is spelled incorrectly on the front of the envelop that was mailed to me. I'M IN THE FRIGGIN' WEDDING and they've misspelled my first name.
I realize in the Deep South, they like to anglo-cize everything, but these people are Greek like me! Well, okay, the mother isn't but, still, she should know my name by now. She's known me my whole damn life. I was outraged. Outraged. It's bad enough I have to sit at work everyday and hear PR people and old ladies mangle my name, as if they've never heard it before, as if it weren't the most popular name in all of the Spanish-speaking world and half of Europe, but these people KNOW me. They've known me for three decades. They've wiped snot off my nose and picked olive pits out of my ears. If they can't get my name right there is not hope for me here. None. I'm just going to have to switch countries - that's all there is to it - and preferably, ahead of this wedding.
I realize in the Deep South, they like to anglo-cize everything, but these people are Greek like me! Well, okay, the mother isn't but, still, she should know my name by now. She's known me my whole damn life. I was outraged. Outraged. It's bad enough I have to sit at work everyday and hear PR people and old ladies mangle my name, as if they've never heard it before, as if it weren't the most popular name in all of the Spanish-speaking world and half of Europe, but these people KNOW me. They've known me for three decades. They've wiped snot off my nose and picked olive pits out of my ears. If they can't get my name right there is not hope for me here. None. I'm just going to have to switch countries - that's all there is to it - and preferably, ahead of this wedding.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Wedding Nightmare No. 2:
This whole thing is getting out of hand. Seriously. This has to stop. Do other people involved in weddings (exempting the bride) have crazy dreams like this?
So, last night's nightmare was about a wedding dress or the lack thereof. In my dream I was sitting in a church, in the pews and I was getting married just after whatever regular service was being held.
There were only a handful of people there and I have no idea who the groom was. But I was sitting there in the church in my blue jean, cut-off shorts and white t-shirt freaking out because I didn't have a wedding dress (don't know how that detail slipped my mind when I was planning this "dream" wedding).
So I run out of the church and go to my childhood home (where we haven't lived since I was six, but is just down the road from the church were Tammy's wedding is being held) and started going through the closet looking for something I could throw together as a dress. There was a large white skirt with lace on it, which I had to safety pin to make fit and a lacey, white sleeveless shirt that I put on. I didn't get as far as the shoes in my dream. And while I wasn't thrilled with my outfit, it was better than cut-offs, my dream self thought.
That was pretty much the whole dream...only it was much more emotional that I've led you to believe with my above description.
I can't totally blame this wedding nightmare on the wedding I'm in, though. I also blame the Gilmore Girls, which had some weird marathon going on last night, catching everyone up on the season so far, I guess, because the new episodes start next Tuesday. Anyway, I fell asleep to the episode where Lorelei finds the perfect wedding dress for her and Luke's wedding and everything else falls in place (or at least, so she thinks at this point in the series). Because there was so much emphasis placed on the wedding dress, I can't help but think that had at least some influence on my dreams last night.
Seriously. After all this, I am never getting married.
So, last night's nightmare was about a wedding dress or the lack thereof. In my dream I was sitting in a church, in the pews and I was getting married just after whatever regular service was being held.
There were only a handful of people there and I have no idea who the groom was. But I was sitting there in the church in my blue jean, cut-off shorts and white t-shirt freaking out because I didn't have a wedding dress (don't know how that detail slipped my mind when I was planning this "dream" wedding).
So I run out of the church and go to my childhood home (where we haven't lived since I was six, but is just down the road from the church were Tammy's wedding is being held) and started going through the closet looking for something I could throw together as a dress. There was a large white skirt with lace on it, which I had to safety pin to make fit and a lacey, white sleeveless shirt that I put on. I didn't get as far as the shoes in my dream. And while I wasn't thrilled with my outfit, it was better than cut-offs, my dream self thought.
That was pretty much the whole dream...only it was much more emotional that I've led you to believe with my above description.
I can't totally blame this wedding nightmare on the wedding I'm in, though. I also blame the Gilmore Girls, which had some weird marathon going on last night, catching everyone up on the season so far, I guess, because the new episodes start next Tuesday. Anyway, I fell asleep to the episode where Lorelei finds the perfect wedding dress for her and Luke's wedding and everything else falls in place (or at least, so she thinks at this point in the series). Because there was so much emphasis placed on the wedding dress, I can't help but think that had at least some influence on my dreams last night.
Seriously. After all this, I am never getting married.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Wedding Bliss
Update: The candle battle rages on. My mom has now given me money to go buy the larger candles. I think I'm caving on this one. My will is not as strong as hers.
In other wedding news, there are two (count them, one-two) wedding showers this weekend for the bride, which I will be attending. One of these showers is being co-hosted by my mother (which comes as a surprise to no one, I'm sure). The other is a "couples" shower and I'm unsure, etiquette-wise, if I'm supposed to take a gift. Guess I'll have one in the car just in case.
This is a very bad season to have a Greek wedding. We Greeks are fasting for Lent, which means no animal products in our diets. This makes it very hard to enjoy wedding showers and bachelorette party weekends in Florida when most everything aside from the vegetable tray is off limits. Luckily the wedding, itself, is well after Orthodox Easter, which is a week after Western Easter this year, just FYI for those of you keeping score at home.
This, coincidentally, is the same weekend as the afore mentioned bachelorette party, which I would like to go to but won't because it overlaps with Easter. My mom expects me home for Easter, and quite honestly, I can't imagine myself on the beach during the holiday. So I won't be going. This didn't stop me, of course, from getting into a fight with my mother about it last weekend. She was trying to tell me that bachelor parties were for boys and that "good girls" don't do that kind of thing and that I wasn't going. Clearly she has no idea what I was talking about, but I didn't have the energy to try and explain it to her and anyway she wouldn't have listened since she knows she's right already. She's very stubborn. Like a mule. So instead I told her that "I was 30 years old and I'll do whatever I feel like doing."
Granted, this was a stupid fight, especially since I had already said I wasn't going. But I get tired of her telling me how to run every small detail of my life. For example, a few weekends ago she was giving me job advice, even though she has never had an office job and certainly knows nothing about my profession. She can't even read English!
And now, the best news. The bride's maids dresses are in. My mom has mine now. I can't wait to see it this weekend and report back in full detail on exactly how bad it makes me look. Maybe I can even muster up a portrait of the dress. Oh will the glories of being the koumbara ever end?
In other wedding news, there are two (count them, one-two) wedding showers this weekend for the bride, which I will be attending. One of these showers is being co-hosted by my mother (which comes as a surprise to no one, I'm sure). The other is a "couples" shower and I'm unsure, etiquette-wise, if I'm supposed to take a gift. Guess I'll have one in the car just in case.
This is a very bad season to have a Greek wedding. We Greeks are fasting for Lent, which means no animal products in our diets. This makes it very hard to enjoy wedding showers and bachelorette party weekends in Florida when most everything aside from the vegetable tray is off limits. Luckily the wedding, itself, is well after Orthodox Easter, which is a week after Western Easter this year, just FYI for those of you keeping score at home.
This, coincidentally, is the same weekend as the afore mentioned bachelorette party, which I would like to go to but won't because it overlaps with Easter. My mom expects me home for Easter, and quite honestly, I can't imagine myself on the beach during the holiday. So I won't be going. This didn't stop me, of course, from getting into a fight with my mother about it last weekend. She was trying to tell me that bachelor parties were for boys and that "good girls" don't do that kind of thing and that I wasn't going. Clearly she has no idea what I was talking about, but I didn't have the energy to try and explain it to her and anyway she wouldn't have listened since she knows she's right already. She's very stubborn. Like a mule. So instead I told her that "I was 30 years old and I'll do whatever I feel like doing."
Granted, this was a stupid fight, especially since I had already said I wasn't going. But I get tired of her telling me how to run every small detail of my life. For example, a few weekends ago she was giving me job advice, even though she has never had an office job and certainly knows nothing about my profession. She can't even read English!
And now, the best news. The bride's maids dresses are in. My mom has mine now. I can't wait to see it this weekend and report back in full detail on exactly how bad it makes me look. Maybe I can even muster up a portrait of the dress. Oh will the glories of being the koumbara ever end?
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Pre-(Somebody Else's) Wedding Jitters: Another reason weddings suck
Had my first wedding-related nightmare last night. Can't remember exactly the details, but I was at work, which in my dream shared an office with my old university radio station. And this girl, who I worked with at the newspaper in Savannah was the afternoon DJ. I knew in the dream that she had asked me to pick up some of her shifts that week.
So, I'm sitting across from her, typing away and she's yelling at someone on the phone along the lines of, "No. She can't make it. [pause] Because. [pause] Yeah, she's right here." And she transfers the phone call to me. It's the bride-to-be, whose wedding I'm in and she's saying she needs me at 4 p.m. to help with something. I'm at first confused by why she was first talking to the DJ and I ponder this out loud and then think, the bride-to-be (heretofore referred to as Tammy, for not other reason than I recently read that Sweet Potato Queens book), so I think, Tammy must have dialed in on the main number and they transferred her to the DJ because they knew I was working for her. This logic somehow made sense to the dream me...although even dream me was questioning the validity of it.
Anyway, I tell Tammy that I can't possibly make it at 4 p.m. because I'm working. Can't we do it later, I ask. She hangs up the phone. So I try to call her back to suggest that I can leave at 4 p.m. and meet her at 5 p.m., because my boss (my real boss, not the DJ whose shift I'm NOT picking up that afternoon) has popped his head out of the office and said it was okay if I needed to leave early. But my phone doesn't seem to be working. At first, every time I pick it up to dial there is someone dialing in and I keep getting voice mails from some random PR guy. After I check those messages, I try to dial her again and nothing happens. I just get a dial tone. So I grab the phone of the DJ, asking if her phone is working. I pick it up and dial my phone and it rings. I call my home phone and it rings. So I start to dial Tammy's number and realize I don't know it. I look in my address book, an old phone number. I look in my mobile phone address book (Don't ask. I don't know why I didn't just use my mobile to call her. It's a dream, people.), nothing. So now I'm feeling pretty frantic and also bad for upsetting Tammy. I call my parents to get the number and that's the last thing I remember. I don't know how it ended. I think that's because, about that time, I got a wet dog nose to the face and a hopeful, "Time to go out?" lick to the cheek.
I can't believe the stress this wedding is causing me. Not getting married is rough on a girl, I tell you.
So, I'm sitting across from her, typing away and she's yelling at someone on the phone along the lines of, "No. She can't make it. [pause] Because. [pause] Yeah, she's right here." And she transfers the phone call to me. It's the bride-to-be, whose wedding I'm in and she's saying she needs me at 4 p.m. to help with something. I'm at first confused by why she was first talking to the DJ and I ponder this out loud and then think, the bride-to-be (heretofore referred to as Tammy, for not other reason than I recently read that Sweet Potato Queens book), so I think, Tammy must have dialed in on the main number and they transferred her to the DJ because they knew I was working for her. This logic somehow made sense to the dream me...although even dream me was questioning the validity of it.
Anyway, I tell Tammy that I can't possibly make it at 4 p.m. because I'm working. Can't we do it later, I ask. She hangs up the phone. So I try to call her back to suggest that I can leave at 4 p.m. and meet her at 5 p.m., because my boss (my real boss, not the DJ whose shift I'm NOT picking up that afternoon) has popped his head out of the office and said it was okay if I needed to leave early. But my phone doesn't seem to be working. At first, every time I pick it up to dial there is someone dialing in and I keep getting voice mails from some random PR guy. After I check those messages, I try to dial her again and nothing happens. I just get a dial tone. So I grab the phone of the DJ, asking if her phone is working. I pick it up and dial my phone and it rings. I call my home phone and it rings. So I start to dial Tammy's number and realize I don't know it. I look in my address book, an old phone number. I look in my mobile phone address book (Don't ask. I don't know why I didn't just use my mobile to call her. It's a dream, people.), nothing. So now I'm feeling pretty frantic and also bad for upsetting Tammy. I call my parents to get the number and that's the last thing I remember. I don't know how it ended. I think that's because, about that time, I got a wet dog nose to the face and a hopeful, "Time to go out?" lick to the cheek.
I can't believe the stress this wedding is causing me. Not getting married is rough on a girl, I tell you.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
My Friend's Big Fat Greek Wedding and My Mother
My poor mother, who is on the verge of giving up on my ever getting married, has decided to drive me crazy by taking over one of my oldest friend's weddings...or at least my participation in it. First there was the mother of the bride, now I give you mother of the koumbara.
My job in this wedding, is essentially: to buy a bunch of accoutrement needed for the service, make sure the crowns don't fall of during the wedding, make sure the bride doesn't trip on her dress during the "first steps as man and wife" and facilitate the exchanging of rings, which in a Greek wedding is (needlessly, if you ask me) complicated.
Battle One between my mother and I began over the crowns, which she insisted must be all white and which I said come in as many different choices now as wedding dresses and she needed to stop being old fashioned. After conferring with the bride, I picked one that I thought was pretty and matched the bride's dress, which isn't white.
Battle Two now rages for the candles. I bought the small beeswax candles, because I thought there was no point in wasting money and wax on the large candles, since all the bride is going to do is trash the candles after the wedding or stick them in a drawer never to be seen or heard from again.
My mother, however, has polled the ladies of the church and come back with the demand that I go by the large candles because "it looks better." Or something like that. I have yet to decide what to do on the candle situation.
Coinciding with Battle Two was Battle Three over the gift I was going to buy the bride and groom. I hadn't actually decided since I haven't been to the store yet (this wedding is in May), but it turns out my mother has already gone and bought a gift from me and had it sent to the bride - a china place setting. A very unlike-me gift, which the bride will immediately know came from my mother, who also bought the exact same gift on behalf of herself and my father.
Sunday night, on the phone, after the latest candle fight, I asked if she wanted to be the koumbara, instead. Now she is acting like her feelings are hurt.
All of this has reinforced my decision that should I ever get married, it will be in Vegas.
My job in this wedding, is essentially: to buy a bunch of accoutrement needed for the service, make sure the crowns don't fall of during the wedding, make sure the bride doesn't trip on her dress during the "first steps as man and wife" and facilitate the exchanging of rings, which in a Greek wedding is (needlessly, if you ask me) complicated.
Battle One between my mother and I began over the crowns, which she insisted must be all white and which I said come in as many different choices now as wedding dresses and she needed to stop being old fashioned. After conferring with the bride, I picked one that I thought was pretty and matched the bride's dress, which isn't white.
Battle Two now rages for the candles. I bought the small beeswax candles, because I thought there was no point in wasting money and wax on the large candles, since all the bride is going to do is trash the candles after the wedding or stick them in a drawer never to be seen or heard from again.
My mother, however, has polled the ladies of the church and come back with the demand that I go by the large candles because "it looks better." Or something like that. I have yet to decide what to do on the candle situation.
Coinciding with Battle Two was Battle Three over the gift I was going to buy the bride and groom. I hadn't actually decided since I haven't been to the store yet (this wedding is in May), but it turns out my mother has already gone and bought a gift from me and had it sent to the bride - a china place setting. A very unlike-me gift, which the bride will immediately know came from my mother, who also bought the exact same gift on behalf of herself and my father.
Sunday night, on the phone, after the latest candle fight, I asked if she wanted to be the koumbara, instead. Now she is acting like her feelings are hurt.
All of this has reinforced my decision that should I ever get married, it will be in Vegas.
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