shorts

So, I'm not feeling too hot, and have decided to stay in tonight. I just went outside to pick up some soup, crackers, and seltzer, and as I was walking back to my apt, I hear a man yelling:
"How can you be wearing those shorts? Do you think my mom wants to see your knees? Do you think my wife, my children want to see your knees? You should think about what your wearing before you leave the house."
At first I think it's just a group of people being stupid, but when I turn around to check out the scene, I notice a tall, crazy man walking in the middle of the street yelling at a group of young gay guys. One of them is dressed like a femme Angus Young (shorts, black shoes, and a blazer). Three of the guys turn down a side street to get away from the yelling, but one (who was wearing black jeans) yells back to his friends that they need to continue down the street and they shouldn't let someone yelling at them make them go out of their way. The crazy guy starts yelling at jeans guy: "See, you're not wearing shorts--at least not today!" Everyone on the street was sort of laughing under breath.
Ahhh! All I have to do is walk to the bodega to get an all star performance.

midtown lunches

Last week set the record for bad lunches in midtown Manhattan. The area that I work in is pretty much either this deli or that deli, so sometimes I try to be creative with what I choose for my mid-day meal. After an overly expensive and royally disappointing salad from Chop't on Wed, I decided to go on an adventure on Thursday. I called Laura R and asked her if she wanted to walk with me to try an Indian burrito place I had heard about. We headed over to 46th st only to find that the place was empty. We assessed our options and decided to try a Cuban sandwich place that was a couple of doors down. The place was steamy and crowded, but we both ordered a chicken cuban to go. I went back to my desk and was swamped with editor requests, so I wasn't paying much attention to my sandwich. But after a while I noticed a nice pile of bones that I was either pulling out of the sandwich or out of my mouth. gaaaaaaaaaaag!!! Times like these make me want to become a vegetarian. Disgusting bone sandwich!! Then Friday rolls around and the weather had been so nice, so a coworker and I decide that we want to go across the street to Heartland and get a burger and eat outside. We amazingly were seated pretty quickly. It was very crowded, but they took our order, and we got our drinks after not too long. THEN! After waiting for 15-20 minutes we asked if the waitress could check on our food. She said she would. THEN! We notice that people around us who had not been ther nearly as long as we had were getting their burgers. We point this out to the waitress who proceeded to yell at us!!! THEN! She brought our burgers and the order was wrong. We finally got our food and the waitress made a point of ignoring us for the rest of our visit. We spoke to another waiter who was very nice, and he gave us more drinks and got us our bill. So instead of having a relaxing, outdoor lunch, it was stressful and not too much fun. So, this week I started off by eating the veggie stir fry and brown rice made at the Time Inc cafeteria.
I guess I could always bring my lunch from home...um, no!

more painted poo

I need to get a new digital camera so I can document the colored poos in my hood. The latest was turquoise.

another painted poop

Gotta get ready for work, but yesterday I saw another pile of dog poo that had been spray painted. This time it was a pepto bismol pink. The gold was prettier.

And on Sat night I was headed into the city on the L train when at 1st Ave a freak I had never seen before entered the train. The guy entered the train and announced that he was an alien and his spaceship had crashed onto our planet. He was wearing a couple of those headbands with things boinging off the top, had a huge bag attached to his back, and had a saxophone. AND! to top it off he had the cutest, tiniest kitten on his shoulder that was attached to him with a chain of shoestrings. He played his sax and told us that the tune was some sort of trance he was putting us under and we would feel the effects later. The act worked because quite a few people dug into their pockets and gave him some cash. And most of these people got off the train at Union Square, but I stayed on one more stop. I was treated to his version of Pop Goes the Weasel on the sax--it was actually pretty good.

apology

So, I have been called out and bumped into the poser category by Howard of the fascinationstreak blog because I have not been posting. I want to apologize to all of my loyal readers for not posting for some time now. You say what? Loyal readers? Nobody leaves you comments, Kelly. EXACTLY! I know I have a journalism degree, so I should want to write, but keep in mind that there's a reason that I'm not using it (well, at least not to its full potential). I do enjoy writing and journaling the crazy things that go on around me, so I'm here to turn over a new leaf. I do, however, need encouragement. I mean, I may come off as strong, but I'm really not (waaaaaah). Anyway, comments are encouraged.

So, anyway, I'm here to say that I really am worried about the state of NYC. In my (gulp) 11 years here, I've seen plenty of great stores, restaurants and bars close because they could no longer afford the insane rents. As most of you know, Florent will soon be closing. To be honest, I haven't been to Florent in years, but that's because I'd rather slit my wrists than venture into that neighborhood on a weekend night. I remember going there quite a bit when I was new to NY. This was back in the day when it took FOUR (yes, 4) cab drivers before I found one who knew how to get to Gansevoort st. Now, no cab driver in the tri-state area would dare not know how to get to Gansevoort. It's all very sad, but the closing of Florent isn't hitting as close to home as the new revelation of the closing of The Hog Pit. Again, I don't make it over there as much as I used to, and now, with all of the glitzy hotels, French manicures, and roid rage that define the neighborhood, the HP is totally out of place. It's dirty, it's divey, and it used to be filled with rockers and bikers. It was cheap and the Southern cuisine was always welcome. If I had a hankering for chicken fried steak, I knew where to go. And in the article that I read about the closing, I found out that a new Ralph Lauren store is scheduled to move into the space. So sad! I HATE you, Ralph! I want my chicken fried steak! I guess I should have known this was coming. I mean, the last time I went to the HP, I didn't think we went too crazy, but when the bill came, we each owed about $75!!! Damn! I could have gone across the street and had a steak at Pastis! Hmph! Oh well. I guess the only thing I can do is go as often as possible until it closes in January. Yes, I will probably make it to 300lbs by then, but it will be worth it.

I love you HOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWG PIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIUUUUUT!!!!

the golden turd

I ended up not going into work today because I've been feeling extremely weak and tired. Got some blood (actually lots of blood) drawn last Friday, so now just waiting for the results to see what I'm deficient in. So, anyway, since I'm home today, I took Pico out for an early afternoon walk. I stumbled across a pile of dog poo that had been spray painted gold. I guess art is everywhere. It just depends on how you see things.