Now For A Brief Intermission...

...from my packing. We're just going to call this a "Best of..." I see a lot of weird things. Some might argue that this is because I am "weird." But, I prefer to think of it as adept in seeing and verbalizing the foibles around me.

We have here:
1) people dancing on poles, not to be confused with pole dancing. That is ENTIRELY different. It was more like acrobatic swaying, actually. In any case, it was [high pitched voice] awesome.
2) Drive with Carl. Tee hee. Classic.
3) Real tree... Fake flowers. What IS the world coming to!?! Only in the Upper East Side.


Now back to packing.

Welcome to Trapeze School...

"New York Trapeze School can in no way be held responsible for physical or emotional injuries or death."

That is what I agreed to in signing the waiver tonight. That's right...you heard me... trapeze school. Something you should know about me...it's physiologically impossible for me to say no to something that ridiculous, so when my friends suggested we take a lesson, I tried and tried but caved and said yes. Actually, I think I squeaked it.

It has been a constant source of trauma ever since. You see, I'm not what you would call "athletic." (Hey! Stop snickering!) I have many stories about "the last time I did [insert sport here]". Like skiing... when a kid cut me off, I hit a tree, fell backwards, and got my skis stuck perpendicular in 6 inches of fresh packing snow. And couldn't move. And couldn't get my skis off. Or the time I went rollerblading head first. That was good. In fact, the idea of me flying through the air held up by a bar and my own strength filled me with an unholy terror.

But. like I said. Physiologically impossible. Must. Be. Ridiculous.

So, I climbed the ladder to the top of the platform. I curled my toes over the edge, leaned forward, and waited as the instructor brought the bar towards me. Three things happened on that platform.

1) Un-ho-ly-ter-ror. I found myself uttering the prayer, "Heavenly Father, please don't let me die or break an arm. I know it would be all my fault, and I don't want to explain it to Mom."

2) The obnoxious thirteen-year-old in me wanted to do Olympic commentary: "She steps up to the ledge, toes curled, a look of stolid determination on her face. This is it, the moment she has been working for all her life..." and so on. I would have done it, but for the distinct possibility that the instructor might actually push me over the edge.

3) I looked out at the amazing sight that is the city at night. Did I mention that the trapeze place is on a rooftop in Manhattan? You can see a lot of the city from there... and hundreds of cars whizzing by. I was actually overcome for a moment with how beautiful the city is. In that moment, I found myself grateful to live in such an amazing city.

And then I jumped. A swing and a miss. Yep, I'm just as good at trapezing as I am at any other sport. And that is the kind of good that is...well...not. Oh well.

Want to know the funny thing? I was even more freaked out when I hit my foot on a stair in the subway and it drew blood. I was much more concerned about what germs were in there than the idea of jumping off a ledge. Curious.

Now Leaving: The Abyss

I. Am. So. Close.

Seriously... half a take-home and one paper, and I am OUTTA HERE! (in a good way)

On another note: check out my new website: http://www.teslaquartet.com/.

Yep, this is how I feel right now:

It's A Jungle Out There

I'm supposed to be writing a paper right now...

But instead, I thought I'd share with you some of my favorite unenforced laws in NYC. You see, here in the Big Ap, things work a little differently. Sure, there are rules, as you can see illustrated, but, well, there is also a tacit understanding between cops and civilians that the civilians will blatantly disregard any rule they deem unworthy, and the cops will let it slide as long as no one gets seriously hurt or maimed in some way. Even then, there's a bit of a sliding scale.

For example, one of my fav stories of NYC life comes from a former bishop of mine, who watched a news story about car theft in the mean city streets. A man, wanting to protect his moderately-priced, sensible car, put a sign in the window saying, "No sterio." When he returned to his car later that day, there were shards of glass and a new sign in the window saying, "Get one."

Then there's the jaywalking. I have to admit, this is one of my vices in the city, and after being here for a couple of years I've realized that unless you take advantage of the opening, you're not going anywhere on time. Consequently, I will be lucky to make it out of NYC without being hit by a cab. (Incidentally, my roommate was hit, but it was the cab's fault, and she's okay.) There's also a good story about this unenforced law. Now, I would like to add an aside here that I heard this second-hand and have no way of proving it to be true or false. Either way, it's worth sharing, because it's a perfect illustration of the code of conduct I was discussing earlier.

It goes like this: A few years ago, some high-up city officials decided jaywalking had gotten out of hand and that this law should be enforced. To that end, they ticketed a woman. This woman, being the plucky New Yorker she is, sued the city for harassment (after all, why was she ticketed and not someone else), and WON. Therefore, that law too went to an early grave.

One more example here. I often walk outside and see this:

Ah, the double parking fairies, or as they are really called, the car shepherds. Yes, that's right. This is a real industry that has cropped up in New York. I read an article about it by Bill Geist, and I've been fascinated ever since. The car shepherds are people who get paid by the month to move cars around. You see, there are all sorts of rules about where and when you can park on the street, and since parking is such a precious resource, you could potentially never get to work if you worried about it. So, instead, you hire the shepherds. They get the keys, and you call them when you want your car back. Most of the time, you don't even know where your car is, but they do. If the car gets ticketed, the shepherd takes the fall. It's a pretty good system actually, but it does mean that double parking happens on a daily basis. I guess we should all just be glad the streets don't look like this:

So there you have it, everyone: the law of the jungle. The code of conduct for everyday life in the mean streets of New York City-- "If you don't bother me, I won't bother you. If you do bother me, I'll make sure to let you and everyone around you know. So don't bother me."

Breaking News on the Swine Flu

WARNING!!!

DO NOT DO THIS: