Hatin' On The Homeless

Working in New York City, I realize and accept the fact that I have to co-exist with the homeless. And I feel I have, for the most part, good manners when dealing with them I never stare or give looks of disgust and take special care when in maneuvering around them. I don't want to wake up the cranky homeless when they are sprawled out across the sidewalk.

There is only one or two kinds of homeless people I feel sorry for and if I had spare change, I would absolutely drop it off into their worn paper cups.

Those who served in any war, fought long and hard for this country, came home a hero and poof! They had nothing. No help from the government, being gone for so long caused them to have no way to stand on their feet, couldn't get jobs, were so emotionally battered by war horrors, and eventually the only option was to live on the street. The sub-category in this exception are the crippled war heroes, who not only sacrificed their time and youth, but actual limbs. I don't know what I'd do if I fought for a country I loved and sacrificed an arm and leg for, to come home and realize that it turned it's back on me. So I understand. I'd probably sit in the corner heckling and kicking (see blog "Edgy Bobs & The Kicking Homeless") pedestrians too.

All the others I almost feel resentment for. This morning, for example, I was carrying a HUGE black bag of clothes, a plastic bag full of food my mom bought for me, and my every-day work bag. With three bags in tow, I jet it down the street in order to get to work on time. I was in Middletown for the weekend and when I attempted to train it back last night, there was some sort of delay, so I said SCREW THIS. I called my dad and asked him to pick me up. So needless to say, it was a joy trekking to work today, in a dress, in the weird fogginess, turned humidity, late, with an additional 30 pounds to lug.

While taking a breather and waiting for the light to turn green, I noticed a homeless man, sitting in a lawn chair reading AM New York. Behind his push cart full of miscellaneous this and that's, was a pile of KITTENS. In front of the kittens, there was a sign written on cardboard that read, "please help us, god bless".

At this point I got very angry. Why should I give you my hard earned quarters when you just sit on the corner, day after day. I work not five, but six days a week to pay my bills and to fund a little social life. Why should I support this lifestyle? I hate working. I really really hate it. But I think it's even worse being a societal burden. Put your time in. There are always places hiring. Go get a job. I'd have no problem giving money to people who are actively trying to get back on their feet. But come on, with no goals to better life, why should I just sustain you? (Wow I sound extremely cold hearted. There is no trace of the loving yogi and peace lover I tend to be....perhaps my adult life has already hardened me).

And then the kittens. I want a cat. I would kill for a kitten, but I know that I am not in a financial situation where I could necessarily support another living creature. But here's the homeless man with his 5 kittens. So not only do I have to support him, but also his entire litter.

Could it be that I envy him more than I actually dislike him? Could be... I wouldn't mind a life sitting around in lawn chairs all day with a couple kittens. The only thing stopping me is the winter in the city and the lack of home. But I could always move somewhere warm...or. or....

If I was homeless, I think I'd become a mole person. You know those people who live deep down under the subways and have their own society and live by their own rules? I'd do that or be a super crazy homeless lady and scare the workers and tourists. I'd pretend I was unconscious on benches or sprawled out across the sidewalk, and when a poor Danish family is forced to step over me, that would be my cue to get up abruptly and start yelling gibber jabber.

They always look so down and sad, but I wonder if maybe its all an act and they are the ones laughing it up at the end of the day, while counting out their pan-handling money. While high fiving and giggling away they say, "haha and all the while they think we are sad??? We don't work and get to drink in public and never shower and play around all day, what could we complain about?? Did you see that miserable blond girl with all those bags this morning? Could you imagine if WE had to go sit in a silent office all days writing blogs? Man I'd rather be homeless!"

Saved!

Enters the scarf: This is how you will see me on humid days. Or hungover ones. And the lazy..

Oh Humidity, How I Loathe Thee

Once upon a time, I got an edgy bob. And here it is on day one:

And since then, I have loved every moment of it. So easy to style. So cute. So wonderful. After I got my haircut, I was so pleased with the results, it prompted me to get a new tattoo, on my mid-neck area.

As you may have seen in pictures past, I have naturally wavy hair. What does this mean then you ask? NO MATTER what I do and try to prevent it, after I walk out my door with immaculate styling, the humidity hits me from each angle and I look like this:

Yeah. Pretty bad. I basically look like a crazy Eastern European who just showered, ran a finger or two through my hair and off I went into the flat, yet frizzy abyss.

What I Had For Dinner Tonight

A nice light healthy Summer meal. Quiche with olives and cherizos, served with salad greens and a fat free blue cheese dressing.

My friend Mhern has made this for me two times (minus the olives) and it was AH-mazing. Seriously. Absolutely wonderful. Even now as I sit on my couch writing away, the mere presence of the quiche sitting there alone in the fridge makes me antsy, as if any minute now I'm going to lose control and eat the remainder of the pie.

What I Had For Dinner Last Night

What is this you ask?

Venison Sloppy Joe's with olives, on whole wheat bread and a side of steak fries.

A few words about my meal:

---First of all I am not a hunter , neither am I a kind of person who tends to buy interesting or exciting meats. It wasn't as if I went out into my parent's backyard, shot a deer, skinned it, gut it etc. and later made it into a sandwich. My sister's boyfriend is a hunter and I guess once you get a deer, have ALOT of meat, so they pushed it along to me. Having never had game meat prior was kinda freaked out, but then quickly remember that I am poor and never buy meat. The closest thing to meat I buy is a block of tofu. Mayyyybe chicken. But that's a stretch. So I figured, "It can't be all that bad".

Yeah, it's great. Very tasty and apparently lower in calories, cholesterol, & fat. Who knew.

---I threw olives in because I recently fell in love with the olive family, bought some, and now am desperately trying to find ways to incorporate them in all my meals.

--The bread was stolen from my parents this weekend. I don't like food shopping and my mom always has back ups for all staple foods. They went to a pool party, leaving me alone at the house, so I took it upon myself to lap around the kitchen and see if anything struck my fancy (loaf of bread, diet Sunkist, & two apples).

Musical Uni Bomber

My friend Mhern works for a publisher, so is always giving me the heads up on book signings and reading that I may be interested in. Last Thursday, off we went to the Barnes & Noble in Lincoln Center for Charles Strouse, composer of musicals such as "Bye Bye Birdie" & "Annie", new memoir "Put On A Happy Face". Being the musical theatre fanatic that I am, couldn't help but get a little excited and bubbly knowing that this amazing man would be chatting about his life & PLAYING some of his popular tunes. OMG. I know.

Because we both work til 5:00 or so and the reading started at 5:30, obviously we weren't going to get there earlier to secure seats, so had to deal with lingering around the entrance, standing on our tipping toes to listen in. Initially, I thought it was odd that the reading began so early, but once we got there, it was OBVIOUS why. So many old people. And I'm not saying nice glowing grandparents with patient smiles and stories abundant. They were a breed of obnoxious, irrational-sweat suit wearing- will never be pleased no matter what- senior citizens. Let's give them the benefit of the doubt though that they skipped dinner (which was probably around 5:00), so were hungry and cranky.

The Reading. I'm not going to get into it too much. Ladi-dah dah dah...someone was on the phone, old lady yelled at them to stop, which the person on the phone replied with something like-well don't push me!! Wah wah my husband's in there, I need to sit with him. (Rar of Gma) MIKE! Turn up the mike! Can you hear anything? I can't hear a thing!!

Yeah, I know, you get it. but Charles Strouse was wonderful and gave a lasting impression of inspiration. What a wonderful life he had experienced and despite accomplishing so many things, remained humble and down to earth.

After the reading was over, everyone began to line up for their books to be signed and Mhern & I went over to chat some of her co-workers up. A hello here, a how are you there, and off Mhern went to say hello to her friend's Mom.

So I stood around a bit and chatted with one of her co-workers, Robert who ended up being a nice and chatty fellow. Our conversation went as follows:

What do you do? Do you like your job?
Sales. HATES it.

Oh you write? What do you like to write about? poetry?
Yes I write. I like to write about myself. I have little to no patience for poetry.

How do I know Mhern?
Oh I don't know, forever.

And so on.

Enters the Musical Uni bomber.

As Robert & I talked about...well me, I heard a little bubbly, slightly over the top voice behind me say, "excuseeee me, but what does that tattoo on your neck say?"

Always one to talk about tattoos I told her, "oh it's in Thai and says For The Beauty Of The Earth".

I then turned to get a good look at whom I was talking to. Um. Yeah she was a mess. She reminded me of a washed-out dental hygienist, standing at a mere 5 feet, with this crazy dry raspy not quite blond, but more like straw hair. To top it off, had these CRAZY-lady eyes, emphasized with HUGE brown eye brows. I couldn't even tell you what she was wearing because the whole top half of the package was way too much to take in.

From there, she squealed with delight while ringing her hands and THEN in a quivering tone death voice began to sing the hymn "For The Beauty Of The Earth". From here began the anthem of religion AND spirituality AND her beliefs AND her past within the church AND how she went to school in Boston to go to school for seminary AND how she is at the highest level a woman can be at in the Catholic church, BUT she doesn't like the Catholic church. AND with pride in her voice stated, "And my grandmother, who is 80 - YEARS - OLD always thought a woman should be equal to a man in church. She was just a woman far ahead of her time", and with that a little sigh.

While she was chatted away, she slowly and surely began to corner me out. Obviously she was hitting on Robert and I was her in. That was my hint to subtly back away and let love happen. Fine fine, I could survive without a conversation with the crazy and the weirdo.

Just to show you the magnitude of her craziness and that it wasn't just me being weird,Robert got freaked out, gave her an excuse about wanting to talk to the author and took off. So there I was, alone with the uni bomber. She went on and on about this and that, all the while I spent my time shooting Mhern looks of "GET OVER HERE NOW. LOOK WHAT I'M TALKING TO".

Finally. I said, "Well I'm going to go and see if my friend is ready to go..."

MU: OH well I know Christine Ebersole (whom was singing that night) and I too have to go in and give something to her.

(right away I assumed a bomb)

She followed me to the door and the security guard said, "wellll where do you think your going"?

I replied to him with , "oh well my friend's over there and I just want to see if she's ready to go....While MU said, "I have something to give Christine. Let us in. You don't think she won't come over here to see me because she will. SHE KNOWS ME. SHE WILL COME OVER."

Oh sweet mother or god, the security guard obviously thought we were friends and plotting to take out Tony Award winning Christine Ebersole. (which, sad to say, I looked at her and thought to myself-oooo she was in my Girl 2!....I know, culture is just dribbling out of my pores).

While MU argued and pleaded with the security guard, Mhern came over, and the Musical-Uni bomber turned her attention immediately, telling Mhern how lucky she was to work in publishing, how she was going for her SECOND Masters for library skills and. Mhern mentioned that Rutgers had a good program there, MU violently attacked with-OH no no no. I live in Manhattan!! Agh haha I go to Pratt and they just don't let ANYONE in...

She continued to shake and panic, on the verge of pycho-sobbing, "I JUST HAVE ONE THING TO GIVE CHRISTINE!!! (she told me earlier that she cut out clippings from a review of a show she saw Christine in recently...but we know better).

Good old Mhern looked at me with the look of "why the hell are you always talking to these weirdos" and said "Must drink margaritas now, goodbye".

Meanwhile I was obviously erupting to talk about this, but knowing better (and because maybe the uni bomber would over hear and change her target) said, "WAIT until we get outside." Fine fine.

Thankfully, we got out of the building before the bomb went off, so good for the security guards & that they actually did their job. But what I find most disturbing is not that I am the flame for the crazy moths, but the fact that I am considered a threat by security guards. Could I be the next musical uni bomber....I mean I do love Rent. What happens when it goes off Broadway? Will my musical bomber within flip, unleash, and start stalking original cast members...is this all I can hope for the future?

The Peeves Of Hern

I have nothing to write about today, but am more bored at work than usual. So in attempts to help me blog-storm, Mhern suggested I write one entitled:

"How Many Pet Peeves Can You Run Into During Lunch Break"

So from there, we began to collaborate and here are the top ten ( in no specific order).

1. When people cough without covering their mouths.

2. Those who meander down the sidewalk SLOWLY because they don't need to be back at work any specific time. And your always the one stuck behind them because they sway back and forth, making it impossible to get around.

3. Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, looking up at nothing in particular, but causing you to walked into them. And typical, they're the ones irritated.

4. Those guys who do bus tours asking if your interested in going for a ride. DO I LOOK LIKE I'M ON VACATION?? Do I look happy and relaxed? no no no no

5. The dudes who stand outside comedy clubs trying to stop you, "hey. like to laugh? Like comedy?" They continue to harrass in the hopes of wearing you down to agree take the tickets off their hands.

6. Flier people in general. Do NOT push a flier in my face. I do NOT want a 5 minute free massage or my eyebrows threaded

7. Mystery drops of water falling from the sky. Please be an air conditioner...please please. Even scarier is when the drops come down in the winter. Lord only knows what they could be.

8. Slow-moving-hand-holding couples.

9. People who walk sooooo slowly because they are blackberrying away. Pshh if you need to make a call or text or email someone, stand to the side. The streets of NYC should be treated like highways. I think there should be policemen walking around giving out fines to the stoppers and the slow.

10. Um having to return to an eerie quiet and dark office when it is a BEAUTIFUL day.

So to sum it up, I don't like anyone or anything that gets in my way, stops me, moves slowly, or could possible cause me to become ill.

Business Proposition

One of my newly discovered pet peeves is when people have a lot of money and don't spend it. I guess technically it makes sense that the people who spend (like yours truly) are obviously the ones who don't have any vs. those who save have some money. But say you die tomorrow. Who wants those last moments on earth regretting that you didn't buy that new car or that house on the shore you've been eyeing for years....or perhaps funding a project your friend Kristine wanted to begin.

Once upon a time, way back when in the late 90's when I was in high school, I worked at this wonderful coffee house, The House Of Coffee (I know original). It was a great place to work. The coffee house resided in the Galleria, which is a restored Factory, so it had a very cozy strong feeling about it and a sense of history. We had great regulars, good food, drinks, and such potential to thrive. But sadly, the people who owned and managed weren't very restaurant savvy and the HOC closed. A year or so later they re-merged as a tapas place Savannah, which I walked by last week and it looked to have closed down.

The first thing that came to mind was - Omg. What I would give to re-open the House of Coffee, but under my regime. Having worked in the restaurant business for almost 10 years, I have great confidence that I could absolutely run a successful coffee house. It used to pain me to watch the poor management of other places I worked, but it also taught me what would be good. My biggest objective is customer service and the best way to succeed is to have good clientele and know your people, make it a home and a place they feel welcome. How many places over the years I have returned to again and again because the staff knew me, how I liked my usual meal/drink/etc. and were up to date with what was going on in my life. Why even last week, I was hanging out with one of my regular waiter turned friends and years later, he can still tell me my usual. That's what I'd want out of my business.

My House of Coffee would encourage people to sit around and hangout (vs. the old one that only liked it if people were constantly buying) and would attempt tomake it a local artistic hub. For example, I'd invite reading and writing groups to have their meeting there, open mikes, art shows, and basically anything that promotes creativity and a sense of community. That would absolutely be a dream.

Now here's the dilemma. Um who has money for such venture? Do you think there would be anyone in the world who is just brewing in non-used money who'd like to be my cash flow? It could happen right? Perhaps some older gentleman may find my idea inspiring and want to provide the gift of fulfilling a daydream....right

Well keep a look out for me. There's got to be someone out there. In exchange for their generous donation, of course there will be a portrait hanging on the wall of their face and my unending love and devotion. That's a fair trade right?

A New Appreciation For The Suit

According to my friend Eckart Tolle, author of "The New Earth", in order to find your true purpose in life is to defeat the ego (the voice in your head that is negative and if given the chance will mask the true self). The best defense against the ego is by living in the now because the ego likes to hate on everything and complain away the day.

In attempts of erasing my ego, I have been trying to be more conscious and live in the moment. But of course, my version of living in the now is by observing others around me and mentally taking notes for later stories.

Walking to work today was a great example of life in motion. There was the random act of kindness in which a man noticed that the person next to him on the bus dropped his cell phone, so chased him down to give it back. Later, there was a boy in a wheel chair that I felt bad for after his dad pushed him into a curb, causing him to uncomfortably stop short. Around 53rd and Fifth, there was a huge, I'm talking probably about 10 feet tall inflatable rat, apparently announcing that asbestos kills! (I don't really understand how the two connect). And of course we have the usual tourists that were walking slow and whom i usually give evil glares to, instead tried to reason with my head, "they are only walking slow because they are German tourists, overwhelmed by the city and have no idea where they are going"

My ego replied with, " Well unfortunately, you know where you are going and where you should be. And that would be WORK. SOME OF US HAVE TO GO TO WORK!! Out of my WAY!"

Finally, there was the sea of suits, who walk with purpose clutching a coffee in one hand and the other filled with a pile of Walt Street Journals and NY Times. If you've ever read anything else of mine, you know that I am usually not interested in Suits and don't care to chat with them because they are usually pretty typical and like to talk about money, compare careers, and so on. But then I realized maybe it's my ego's doings as to why I don't care for the Suits and need to let go of the animosity in order find a common ground.

So today while I took the walk of inner peace, I was standing next to a Suit at a corner waiting to cross the street and he was snapping his fingers and stamping his feet. Not just a little, "oh this is a good song" kinda tap. I'm talking a, "I LOVE THIS SONG and I LOVE LIFE" medley. So he bopped across the street and then became a member of the air orchestra and started to air drum, guitar, flute, xylophone, and so on (fine, minus the last 2). And seriously, just by this wonderful act of musical love, changed my outlook of the Suit. Perhaps my friend there was a musician, who always dreamed of being in a band, got married had a baby or two and sacrified it all to take care of his family. Maybe he's in a band, and they played all weekend long. Who knows. But it definitely shows that I am way too hasty to judge and am missing out on a lot of undercover characters.

Primetime Bachelorette?

While riding the bus into work this morning, I got a way early phone call from my friend Hennessey. We chatted it up with some light ladi-dah conversation when all of sudden her voice changed and said, "hey, I have a question for you. Can I nominate you to be the next Bachelorette"? I replied with a ,"HA are you kidding me"??

Hennessey explained that they are looking for the next Bachelorette and thinks I'd be just perfect for it, how I'd make for good reality TV and so on. So I agreed. HOW FUNNY WOULD THAT BE?

Later, as I walked to work, started to daydream about my season and I've come up with two case scenarios.

1. I'd be on the show, meet the guys, and they would all be super tools, like the ones on "I Love NY" or "Tila Tequila". They would obviously be these grossed-out benny-ish guys with huge muscles squished in little t-shirts, with terrible tribal tattoos and impeccable eyebrows. The guys would so be the ones who try to trick me that they love me after 2 days, in order to advance their careers, or so sappy wah wah-delusional in love with lovers that I'd want to throw up. And perhaps I would. Daily. When the producers interview me about how I felt about each guy I would say, "ugh, omg he is terrible. What were you thinking when you picked him for me." "Oh and him? Ugh booooring. I couldn't see myself with ANY of them." This would lead me to be hated by many and enjoyed by few.

2. Perhaps the producers would inquire in what times of guys I liked and I would reply with, "Umm. Artists. Writers. Musicians. CHARACTERS. Kinda dirty, lots of tattoos. Weird. And makes me laugh". Maybe they would create a new spin-off show "Character Showdown!" in which 20 crazy weirdos would be competing for my affections. Ahh that would be wonderful. And in order to be on the show, they would have to provide a list of favorite books, movies, pictures of their tattoos, and have to live in the NYC area (including Brooklyn, Hoboken, JC, etc.) I am not falling in love on prime time television just to be disappointed when I discover my love lives in Montana. And I'd like my show to be live or as close as possible. I don't want to wait 5 months until we are reunited on the reunion special and have my heart broken when my character has grown tired of me.

So get ready, Fall 2008, for I will be the NEXT Bachelorette!