I Are a College Graduate

It's official. I graduated from UNC-Charlotte on December 20th, a feat that I embarked upon in September 1981. So, just 27 years and three universities later, I have a bachelors degree in Mathematics with a minor in Psychology. I changed my major so many times over the years that I should have ended up with about five degrees. But I'm not complaining. :) This opens the door to graduate school and a new career for me--something I've desperately needed for several years.

My other good news is that today I found out I've been accepted to the Masters in Forensic Science program at The George Washington University. GWU has one of the best (if not the best) FS programs in the country. It's also one of the most expensive. But it'll be worth it. The top four digital forensics examiners in the nation came out of this program. My concentration is High Technology Crime Investigation. My 18 years of IT work give me a great background for this program, but it's still not going to be easy. There is a lot that I need to learn about criminal law and collecting forensic evidence.

I am so excited to have been accepted. It's a competitive program that accepts 20 new students at a time. I wanted this so badly that I moved to Virginia after Wall Street chewed me up and spit me out. I went so far as enrolling at GWU as a non-degree student, signing up for two undergraduate prerequisites that start next week.

They just had to take me. If not, I would have kept on trying. I'm glad that bridge has now been crossed.

Overall, there are about 80 students in the program at any given time, so it's a nice compact community. Classes start in one week. Today was the first time since I can remember that I stood in line at a university book store. Man, book prices are exorbitant these days. A student can easily expect to spend $100 per class.

Thank god I wasn't the only student in line who is sprouting gray hairs. The rest looked like kids to me!

Driving a Prius

For New Year's I drove down to an old friend's house near Roanoke, Virginia. Tracy and I had worked at the Blacksburg Domino's Pizza in the mid-80's and have been best friends ever since. She is the only person from my Virginia Tech college days that I managed to truly stay in touch with. I visit her family every couple of years. Now that she is only 255 miles away, we can see each other more often.

Because Enterprise failed to honor my reservation the previous weekend for a mini-van (which I needed to pick up my dining room table from my friend Rashmi's house up in Laurel, MD), they owed me a free upgrade for my New Year's trip. I asked for a hybrid and got a red Toyota Prius.
I can't get over the mileage that thing makes. Although the on-dash system reported 47mpg (on average) for the entire trip, in reality it made closer to 43mpg. I'm not complaining, though. I only paid for about 12 gallons of gas for the whole 514-mile trip. Not bad! Especially since gas is about $1.55/gallon now.

The Prius is a great car. I could find only a few minor drawbacks. One was that I had no idea how to work the heating and A/C unit, so I just used the temperature up/down controls on the steering wheel for the first half of the trip. On the way back I discovered that the touch-screen LCD display in the middle of the dash has a page for adjusting the air flow. It's too bad the thing didn't have a navigation system. The monitor was there, after all.

One drawback to this little car is that the standard guages are displayed in green LED lights just beneath the windshield. This didn't bother me until nighttime. The green dash lights are so close to the window that they reflect onto the glass, directly in the driver's line of vision. It's not a show-stopper, but it would probably bother me long-term.

The other thing I didn't like was the center console. It has an 18" oblong lid that flips up from the front, so it's almost impossible to open while you're driving, as you have to twist your right hand under the latch and move to open it. Otherwise your arm is in the way.

And lastly, it has a push-button to start the car. It also has a push-button to put the car in Park. That takes some getting used to. The little tiny gear shift is funny - you slide it over and up for Drive, or over and down for Reverse. The knob goes back to its original position, though, no matter what gear you're in. And every time I turned on the power and tried to put it into gear, it would only go into Neutral. But rebooting fixed that problem. Every time!

So, yes, I recommend the Prius if you are cost- and energy-conscious. The low gas consumption is unbeatable. And it comes with a pretty decent sound system.

My trip was fun. I love Tracy's kids - they are 13 (Elizabeth) and 14 (Matthew) and are two of the best kids I know. Very personable, affectionate, and active in their church. We all went bowling on New Year's Eve, including Tracy's mom and a sister I hadn't seen in about 24 years.

I had warned Matthew that I'm terrible at bowling. I bowled a 69, a 70, and a 67. I hadn't bowled in years and had forgotten how much fun it is. Tracy asked me, "Is this redneck enough for you, Floozie?" (Old nicknames: Susie Floozie and Spacey Tracy.) She does live in a very redneck area - it's a mountainous area of southwestern Virginia called New Castle. Population: 172 people. Percentage of white non-Hispanics: 100%.

You see a lot of confederate flags in that area of the country. Most people own a truck (for deer-hunting) and have a gun case in their homes. Heck, even Tracy has a refrigerator on her back deck. (When her husband put that out there a few years ago for his beer and deer meat, Tracy just rolled her eyes. I told her then that she had officially become a redneck.) She's gotten used to it now.

The stories she tells me are great. We were in the car on the curvy, hilly road when Tracy was telling me about one old local guy who'd had so many DUI's that his license had been permanently revoked. So he rides into town on his riding mower, complete with rebel flag flying. We laughed hard about that one.

Back to the city for me! Happy New Year, all!

It Ain't Rockefeller Plaza

Sunday, December 21, 2008

I was getting a bit stir crazy, so today (when the sun finally came out after several dreary days), I took the Metro into D.C. The Yellow train dropped me off at Chinatown, and I walked south and west toward the National Portrait Museum. Unfortunately, it was closed, so I continued on my path toward the National Christmas Tree.

I came across a street fair, which was neat - reminded me of being in NY. So far, nothing else about this city reminds me of NY. The sidewalks are too clean and uncrowded, the buildings are too short, and the subway too timely.

One good thing about the subways here is there is a sign telling you when the next three trains are coming. I like that. In NYC, you never know. You could wait two minutes for a train, or ten times as long if there's a problem along the tracks somewhere. They don't exactly run on any schedule there. And, here they are much easier to navigate. You can learn the D.C. subway system in one day.

Anyway, being unemployed I was unable to buy anything at the street fair. I enjoyed browsing the arts and crafts, though. And listening to the live band, which actually played on tin cans and washboards and such. Then I watched as a tiny dog on a leash barked at the big live snowman on the sidewalk. That was pretty funny.

I continued on to the White House Visitor's Center, which is nothing but a series of photos and text about the White House. They threw in a few pieces of glass-enclosed furniture for effect, I guess. Not too impressive. When I asked the guard where the National Christmas tree is, he nonchalantly replied, "Across the street." Hmmm, "which street?" I'm thinking.

I'd find it on my own, thank you very little.

So I walked outside and turned left up Pennsylvania Avenue, under the assumption that the tree had to be near the White House. I walked a couple blocks until I saw a crowd of people in a circle around a relatively short, plain, barely decorated and unlit tree. It didn't seem very big.

I asked a couple women coming toward me, "Is that the National Christmas tree?" Affirmative, they told me. "Geez, it ain't no Rockefeller Plaza," I said, and they both laughed.

As I got closer I could see there were some train sets on the ground near the tree, and a large Menora several yards beyond. The grounds were sloppy - like this was a carnival. "Boooooring," was all I could think. I was underwhelmed at the lack of thought and creativity that went into the National Christmas Tree display.

I know I sound like a prude but this was the least attractive Christmas tree I'd ever seen. I took a few shots and turned to head home, missing New York terribly. I kept envisioning myself enjoying the ice-skaters at Wollman rink in Central Park or gazing in the brightly decorated holiday store windows on Fifth Avenue. Then I came home and watched an episode of CSI: NY. Only when I heard the opening lyrics to "Teenage Wasteland" did I feel better.

If I can just find a contract job and get through a couple years of school here, I can survive without slitting my wrists. With my graduate degree, I can get back to my favorite city - or at least go visit it anytime I want.

I can't wait for classes to start January 12. This computer forensics program gives me some purpose - some reason for coming all the way back to an area of the country that I escaped from a little over a year ago.

This weekend made an honest effort to get out and enjoy the city. Yesterday I took a pleasant walk through Old Town (despite it being a cold and gray day). I will keep trying to enjoy life outside of New York City (is there such a thing?). . . . I will certainly feel better when classes start (oh, and when I have some money coming in). A job would certainly help things.

Miss Madison's 15 Minutes of Fame

A few months ago in New York I got a letter of congratulations in the mail from Cat Fancy. In the large envelope were two copies of the Cat Fancy 2009 Desk Calendar.

About a year and a half ago I had submitted a photo of my Maine Coon cat, Little Miss Madison, to the magazine. Sure enough, she was selected for the 2009 calendar!

So if you go out and buy a Cat Fancy calendar for next year, be sure to turn to the page for April 7th (which happens to be my nephew Connor's birthday). There she is! My little clown.

I checked in with her new owner, Shannon, in Annapolis shortly afterward, and she was tickled to death to see our little girl's photo in print.

I Am Green

When I told my older brother Dave that I was planning on living in Virginia without a car he said, "That's very green of you." Come to think of it, he's right!

Today I used a Zip Car for the first time. I went online, made a reservation, walked several blocks over to the King Street Metro station, waved my Zip Car membership card over the windshield, and watched the doors magically unlock themselves. When I got in, the key was hanging from the steering wheel, and the tank was full. All for just $10.50 an hour and a nominal membership fee. Gas is free!

I reserved the car for three hours and drove up to my townhouse in Maryland, which was recently abandoned by the current tenants. Funny, they forgot to tell anyone about that. They moved out in October but, fortunately, have continued to pay rent. It needs cleaning, and my landscaping needs some work (the Butterfly Bush has taken over the back yard!) - but, other than that, it looks ok. I hated going back to the old neighborhood with its creepy residents. Fortunately, I didn't see any of my freaky neighbors.

There was just one thing missing from my Zip Car - a GPS navigation system. I didn't have a map either. (I forgot to print one out before leaving for the walk over to pick up the car.) Needless to say, I was in a panic when I got lost on my way back on I-295 South. There's one spot where the sign says you can stay right to go one way on route 50 or stay left to go the other way. I didn't want to go either way - I just wanted to continue south on 295. But the stupid signs only indicate east and west. Naturally, I was in the wrong lane. Things just got worse from there when I doubled back and missed another hidden sign (until it was too late) to get back onto 295. So I took the long way around D.C. on the beltway. I managed to return the car at 3:29PM. One minute later and I might have been subjected to a $50 late fee! When you're unemployed, you'll do anything to avoid spending money uselessly.

It's not easy going car-less in an area like Alexandria, which is a cross between urban and suburban. Hence I chose a home closest to a Metro station. (You pay a premium for that here.) But I'm learning to get around. The thing is, I don't have a choice but to find alternate means of transportation. I think everyone should try going without a car for a few weeks. Well, not everyone - you certainly have to be near a bus line or subway for it to work. But going car-less does force one to be creative about public transportation. It's a lot cheaper than owning a car, too.

Besides, I hate driving. I can't get over how fast people drive around here. It's bad enough being on the road with these a$&holes, but it's not safe for pedestrians either. At least in New York if you get hit by a car it can't be going more than a few miles per hour because of the constant congestion. But here - man! You'd be dead if one of the frequent speeders ran you over.

I'm all done settling in. It took me less than two weeks. My bruises are starting to fade, my back muscles are less sore, and my fingernails should hopefully start growing back soon. It's the usual collateral damage that is the result of a move. I'm still applying for jobs and can't wait to start classes next month.

Happy Holidays, all! (And drive safely.)

Settling In

Moving into a new home is always a challenge - but in addition there are the changes that you have to get used to. Like not having an icemaker. And all of the electrical outlets being installed upside-down. And the ikky water that tastes like aspirin, dries your skin, and makes you turn all pruney in no time. There's also the screaming kid across the hallway that you can hear all day long because of the 1.25-inch gap under your front door that was hung improperly. The noisy family and I may as well be living in the same apartment.

Oh, and then there's the fun of learning the new cable box and menuing system and what the channels are on TV. You have to reprogram all your A/V equipment. I didn't even live in my last apartment long enough to know which channels go to which networks.

The cool thing is the full-size washer and dryer in the bathroom. The bathroom is huge - mostly just wasted space though. In NY, most bathrooms are only big enough for the sink, toilet, and tub. The one I have here is big enough to put down a 5'x7' rug that I had left over - and it doesn't even touch the walls.

Baby has been enjoying exploring the new apartment. She's taken a liking to the bathtub. In our last apartment we had a glass-enclosed stand-up shower. That was no fun. Now we have the shower curtain and liner. I guess it's fun to hide between them. A veritable kitty playground.

Last night Baby was between the curtains and then jumped into the bathtub while it was still wet from my shower. I grabbed her out, dried her feet (against her protests), set her down, and scooted her out of the bathroom. I told her to stay away while it's wet. She immediately turned around, ran to the tub, and jumped back in as fast as she could - like it was a game. I pulled back the curtain and told her to get out. So she jumps out and goes running out of the room. I gave up on trying to keep her little feet dry. Silly kitty.

I think the biggest challenge is learning the public transportation system around here. It's way too complicated compared to NY's MTA. In New York, you use one card and pay one fare for everything -buses and trains. It's simple: swipe and go. Here, they have these paper cards that you buy from a machine. You don't just swipe it as you get on the train, you have to insert it in a machine, retrieve it, and repeat the process when you get off, too - (it's the only way to exist the turnstiles). That's because the fares vary.

And with the buses, there's the DASH, the REX (Metro express), the Fairfax Connector, and the Metro bus. And the fares are different depending on whether you just got off a train or not, whether you are paying cash or not (cash costs more), and other factors (like age). It's too complex for me. What I need to do is buy one of the "SmartTrip" cards and figure out how to use that for getting around. Who knows which systems it'll work on.

I also joined Zip Car. It's a good deal. For an annual $50 fee (plus another $75 for complete comprehensive/collision coverage with $0 deductible), I can reserve and pick up a car any time and just about any place I want. There are plenty of Zip Cars parked nearby. I use my Zip Car card to gain access to the vehicle that I've reserved. The keys are inside. There is a gas card inside. I pay by the hour (around $10 on weekdays and $5 on weekends) or by the day.

So let's see how well this all works out. Yesterday I walked over 5 miles doing my errands. That was too much. The D.C. Metro doesn't have the coverage that the NY MTA has. I'm used to getting around with ease. This will just take some time to figure out. . . .

Record Breaking Unpacking Job

It's Friday night and I can't believe that in less than 4.5 days I've unpacked every single box - of about 85 boxes total. I had to get through it. The sooner I finish, the sooner the move is over. Seeing as moving takes up such a large chunk of my life, and I'm tired of it, I like to get it over quickly.

Although everything is unpacked, it isn't quite all in place yet. A lot of the remaining items are part of the decor. But the bulk of the organizing is done - which is most of the work. I had to hang a shelf in my closet yesterday (after a trip via bus to Home Depot). Otherwise, the closet design left no place to hang slacks, skirts, and dresses - only shirts.

Baby has adapted rather nicely. She loves the carpeted floors here. She's used to wood floors. Here, she thinks the whole apartment is one big cat bed. She plops down just about anywhere and sprawls out like she's the Queen or something.

This building reminds me of living in the Gershwin on W. 50th St. in midtown Manhattan a few years ago. The water tastes like aspirin, the shower pressure is greatly lacking, and the water leaves your skin all pruny and dried out. It must be something added to the water in high rise apartment buildings. I hope I can get used to it again. Thank god for Brita pitchers.

Hopefully by Monday I'll be done with all the major moving work (which started about six weeks ago). See what I mean about this taking up so much of my life? It's no small job to move - and no small expense. I've spent roughly $8,500 on moves in the past year. In my whole adult life I've probably spent a year's salary on moving!

What I need to do is get outdoors. I've been in this apartment non-stop since Monday morning, with the exception of returning the rental car, going to Home Depot yesterday, and buying a sandwich at a cafe across the street tonight. Maybe tomorrow I'll get out again.

Murphy's Laws of Moving

I won't even go into how the superintendent at my building in Brooklyn tried to tell me on Saturday the 29th that there are "no Sunday moves" in our building and that I'd have to reschedule my move that was planned for the next day - a move that I'd scheduled with him two weeks previously.

What a jerk. I sent him a scathing email response, educating him in the facts of coordinating an inter-state move. I told him that he should have given me the information about the no-Sunday rule two weeks earlier - but because he hadn't bothered to respond to his boss's own request to schedule my move, he'd have to make an exception. Not only that, but I'd sent two follow-up emails confirming my move, neither of which he bothered to respond to.

So it didn't matter what he said. My movers were showing up at 9:00AM the next morning, and he wasn't stopping me.

Although I'll miss New York (terribly), and I'll miss my gorgeous apartment and living in Brooklyn Heights, one thing I will not miss is the lousy maintenance staff at 110 Livingston. The apartment was great, but I averaged 1.5 maintenance issues for every month that I lived there. And getting those guys to respond was like pulling teeth. Ask any resident there - it is frustrating for all. I actually went an entire month without hot water in my kitchen. It took weeks to get my oven working after moving in. My A/C went out on a 98-degree day in July.

You get the picture.

Anyway, I awoke to pouring rain and gale force winds on Sunday. My movers arrived early, which is a rarity in New York City. There were five of them. Good. I'd completed all the packing of 80+ boxes prior to their arrival, so all they had to do was wrap my furniture and load the truck. It took them a little over four hours. Afterward, I had to walk to my storage unit (about 7/10 of a mile away) and meet them there.

But when I stepped outside into the cold, windy rain and off the sidewalk into the first big puddle, I realized that it wasn't going to be a fun walk. As my socks got wetter and my feet colder, I realized that I'd packed all my shoes except this one pair of sneakers I was wearing. Oops. At least I could change socks later.

We unloaded my small storage unit pretty quickly - it was about the size of a large walk-in closet (a suburban walk-in, not a New York walk-in). As soon as they were done, I needed to head to Manhattan to pick up my rental car. I wanted to get the car as fast as possible so that I could do most my driving in daylight hours. My eyes are bad enough (post-LASIK disaster), but driving at night produces horrible glares, and the rain would only compound my vision issues.

I debated hailing a cab, but being unemployed, I chose the subway. I finally made it to Cadman Plaza where I scanned my Metro card and trekked all the way to the 4/5 train. I got to the platform, and the MTA had hung yellow tape up indicating that the 4/5 train wasn't running at this station. Argh. Why they can't post signs before you've swiped your card and paid your fare, I'll never understand.

So I got on the 2/3, thinking I'll just have to hoof it from Times Square to the Budget place near Grand Central Terminal. My subway nightmare began when I tried to transfer to the 4/5 at Fulton Street. Guess what - the train wasn't running from there either. After running around trying to find an alternate route, I approached a surly MTA employee who told me to "get on the downtown J train" then transfer to the 4/5 at Chambers.

If I'd been thinking, I'd have realized there is no 4/5 at Chambers. Nonetheless, I ran around for a good 20 minutes (in circles), trying to find the nonexistent J train. I tried twice to get a woman in an MTA booth to help me, but she was more sullen than the first. Several other people were running around with me trying to get on the right train. It was painful.

I finally said "Screw it," and got back on the 2/3. Thirty minutes wasted. I should have been at the Budget place no later than 2:00, but after all the rotten subway problems, it was 3:00 when I finally showed up.

But despite all of that, and an equally ugly MTA employee on the 2/3 train, I enjoyed the rest of my subway trip after a young fellow carrying a full-sized Christmas tree got on the train with me. He had everyone's attention. He was a cute young guy (early 20's) who not only had this huge, heavy tree, but was also carrying a big plastic garbage bag containing the tree stand and some garland!

I said, "Now that's a first - I've never seen a Christmas tree on a train before," and the rest of the passengers at our end of the car agreed. The subway was crowded, and this guy was somehow holding up this heavy tree horizontally for the entire train ride. A couple of us commented that his girlfriend had better appreciate it! Apparently she didn't think he could do it. He was bound and determined to get that tree home.

Turns out he needed to get to Grand Central, too. He planned to take the shuttle from Times Square. Hmmm. All the time I've lived in NY I never used that shuttle. Good idea! So I told him I'd go with him and help him. I carried the bag while he hauled the tree through the crowded underground passages of the 42nd Street station. Every once in a while he had to stop and rest. I kept offering to help carry the tree, but he was bent set on doing it himself!

Funny, an older couple came by and told me I wasn't holding up my end of the work load! I said, "I tried but he wouldn't listen." They obviously thought we must be a couple - so I explained, "I don't even know this guy - we just met on the train!" It was a hoot. So anyway, I took his picture with my phone and he had me take his picture with his Blackberry.

Anyway, I walked with him all the way to the 6 train at Grand Central and we parted ways there with happy holiday wishes. That was fun! I'm going to miss New York for that very reason - all the wonderful strangers that I get to meet every day there.

From there I walked in the rain and puddles to pick up my rental car, then drove home to Brooklyn in my nice silver Ford Escape to load up the car, pick up Baby, and head south. If I could get out of the city around 4pm, I'd be in Virginia by 9:00 that night.

Ha. Apparently I didn't learn my lesson in July 2006 about traveling on I-95 during a holiday weekend. You just don't do it. Ever. I didn't even realize until well into my trip that it was Thanksgiving weekend, hence the bumper-to-bumper traffic. It took me 2.5 hours to go the first 75 miles. I kept thinking it would clear up, but it was like that all the way to Baltimore, with traffic getting worse at each of many toll booths along the way. It was stop and go for at least 10 miles before each booth, thanks to the thousands of people who think that paying cash at a toll booth is a good idea.

EZ-Pass is the way to go - you just drive through. But 90% of the traffic was going through the cash booths. With today's advances in technology, there's no excuse for lines at toll booths.

I was on I-295 in D.C. with just 16 miles to go when the rain came down so hard that I couldn't even see the road. Just as I'd been given the opportunity to drive the speed limit, I was forced to slow down to a crawl. Finally, the traffic had lightened up. I should have flown the rest of the way to my motel - but no-o-o-o-o-o. It's my usual Murphy's Law luck.

We finally got to Alexandria a full 7.5 hours after leaving New York for the 240-mile drive. It was late, I was exhausted, and my stupid card key wouldn't open up my motel door. Aaagh! I just wanted to get some sleep, and Baby just wanted out of her carrier.

Here I'd said to her, "Now if Martin can go a full nine hours in this bag flying across country, you can do four or five hours." But that was when I'd thought we'd do the trip in normal time. Geez, I lied to my own cat!

She was not happy in that bag. She's no Martin, that's for sure. Moving freaks her out until she sees our familiar furniture again. Martin was so laid back, he didn't care.

Naturally I couldn't sleep in the motel. I can never sleep with so much going on - especially during a move. I had to get up after just a few hours' sleep to meet with my new landlord to do a walk-through of my apartment. After that, I unloaded the car and waited for the movers, who were over an hour late. We had to rush finishing the job. The four of us managed to do the whole unloading in just three hours.

I drove to Reagan airport to return the car. When I was waiting for the Metro train on the platform, I called my dad to let him know I'd completely my move safely. I said, "Hi Daddy, I'm in Alexandria." His response, "What are you doing there?" is just another indicator that I move so often that my own parents can't keep up with me!

Sleep. . . . I need sleep. Bye.

Mad Men

We are coming upon my favorite time of year in the Big Apple - the winter holiday season! It's hard to believe it's already that time of the year.

Maybe tonight I'll try to make it to the lighting of the Christmas tree at Lincoln Center - since I'll unfortunately miss the tree lighting at Rockefeller Plaza on Dec. 3rd this year. Drat. I'll have moved away by then.

It's been a sad week for me, knowing that I'm leaving my favorite city. It almost hurts to go outside, knowing it'll be the last time I wander down the familiar sidewalks of Brooklyn and Manhattan.

I did find a temporary diversion from my pain. I took up watching Season 1 of Mad Men on Netflix DVD. I was hooked in no time. With each episode, as Matt Weiner's name scrolled by during the opening credits, I'd get all excited, recalling how I met the Executive Producer last month at a Madison Avenue book store. Such a great guy.

And an incredible show! My friend Tom was right, and I'm glad he recommended Mad Men to me. If you haven't seen it yet, you must. Season 2 just recently ended, and I'm waiting anxiously for it to come out on DVD next month.

I am in love with the dashing Don Draper, the lead ad services exec on the show who has a sort of Cary Grant/Humphrey Bogart air about him. He's classy. I hate him too - the lying cheat that he is. But he's the kind of "bad" guy whose manliness and fortitude endears him to the viewer. He can crush the immature little schmuck, Peter Campbell, like a roach just by looking at him with those piercing eyes. I'm sure I'm not the only one cheering in my living room when the spoiled brat gets exactly what he's got coming to him.

Don's wife Betty is so perfect that I keep thinking "Stepford Wife" every time I see her in the kitchen with her 24-inch waist, pleated skirt, neat pumps, nylons, motionless hair and apron.

What is amazing about that era is that everyone is smoking cigarettes everywhere, all the time. They smoke in the office, at home, in the car, on the train, in the elevator - heck, even the gynecologist smokes right there in the exam room before Peggy Olson even has a chance to get her feet out of the stirrups. It's hysterical.

To top that off, these ad men drink constantly too - morning, noon, and night. Before work, during work, and after work. And they are all having affairs - many with long-term mistresses.

But the most shocking part is the perpertual sexual harassment that women are subjected to - and not just in the office. I can't believe what some of the guys get away with! Was it really like that back then? Secretaries act more like nurse's aids to their bosses than assistants. If only people back then could see ahead to the 1990's, when laws were made to prevent that very behavior. My how things have changed in the past 50 years.

Oh my God - that is a shock in and of itself. 1960 was almost 50 years ago. Geez. When did that happen?

Yikes, now I'm really depressed!

Move Number 46 Coming Up

Here we go again.

The last three moves I did were each one move too many. Each time I vowed, "I can't do this again. I'll lose my mind if I have to move again."

And here I am, just nine months after the last move, losing my mind.


Unbelievable. My move to Northern Virginia is scheduled for December 2nd & 3rd.

I used to move by choice; now I mainly move to go where the work is. This economy has affected us all.

I'm going to miss NYC. At first the thought of leaving my favorite city had me in tears. But I'm adjusting to the fact now, knowing that after I get my Masters degree in Virginia, I might be able to come back later (when NYC will be even less affordable!). It seems that each time I return after being gone less than two years, rents have increased another 40%.

So I'm seeing as much of the city as I can before I leave. On Tuesday I went for a walk in Central Park. I'd gone to see the Coco Chanel exhibit, but when I arrived upon it, they were tearing it down. Oops.














I didn't realize the show had closed just two days beforehand. No matter. I was in Central Park in autumn - one of the most beautiful times of the year in the park. So I ended up wandering through The Ramble. It was absolutely beautiful.

Here are a few shots.

Voting in NYC

This past week was pretty exciting. Not just here in New York, but all around the globe. With the election of Barack Obama, it's a new and different world. The sense of "change" being in the air is welcome. Obama needs to be successful if we want things to turn around in this country, so I hope that every American supports him in his new role, regardless of party affiliations.

Last Tuesday afternoon it was a cloudy 62-degree day. I went to vote at the Supreme Court building around 2:00PM, a three-minute walk from my apartment. When I saw the line wrapped around the building, I decided to come back later and instead took the bus to Red Hook to get groceries and kitty litter.

When I came back, it was almost 4:00 when I left home to vote. I told my concierge, "See you in about an hour," thinking about how long the line was earlier. But George, one of the maintenance guys, warned me that they only have two booths open at the polls. For our entire district. Wow.

So I went back to the Supreme Court and got in line outside on the Cadman Plaza side of the building. The line wasn't really that long, so I imagined being done in an hour. Meanwhile, two nice young women joined the line behind me. I overheard one of them telling her friend that when she awoke that morning it felt like Christmas. That's how thrilling the 2008 election became for many people. I admit, I got caught up in the excitement, too.

A guy who'd just voted told us it was an hour and 40 minute wait from about where we were in line. Wow! Somehow we still couldn't believe it would take that long.

Turns out that the two girls were both law students at Brooklyn Law, a school on the block across from my apartment. We started talking, and later a school teacher joined in the conversation. The four of us got along great and had a lot of fun waiting in line. The teacher had quite the stories to relate about the challenges of modern day teaching. (Like how it's the teacher who gets in trouble for verbally reprimanding a student who throws a book in her face.)

Later, the guy in front of us, also a law student, joined in too. It made the process go by faster. there was a sign up that said "No electioneering," which we found interesting. When the guy mentioned who the best candidate was for a congressional seat, we all pointed at him and accused him of electioneering, which he took in good fun. Oh, and there were TV cameras from NY1 there too. People brought their small children. Everyone was having a good time, despite the wait.

It was after 5:30 and dark (and much cooler out) by the time we got indoors to vote. Sure enough, there were only two booths. Talk about poor planning. You'd think that a city of over eight million people would know better. Good thing it's a city full of great people to meet!

It was 6:00PM before I was done voting, making the total wait two hours. That is the longest it has ever taken me to vote!

But I honestly didn't mind. There's no way I wasn't casting my ballot in an election as important as this one. Walking home afterward I was proud to be an American. I'm sure that millions of other people felt the same way on November 4th.

The next morning I was at Penn Station, getting ready to get on board the Amtrak to Alexandria, Virginia. I wanted to buy a NY Times, but they were sold out at Hudson News. The paper sell-out didn't even click with me until I was watching the local D.C. news that night--the Washington Post was in such high demand post-election day that the newspaper decided to do another run at the presses! People whose papers were stolen from their front yards were interviewed and actually laughing about it.

And a day later, the Craigslist ads for sublets druing inauguration week were piling up.

What an exciting week!

Boeing, Boeing!

God I love New York. Every time I walk down a NY City sidewalk, I feel ever so lucky to be fortunate enough to live in this great city - even more so when I'm on my way to or from a Broadway show.

Tonight I had a half-price ticket to see an hysterical comedy called "Boeing, Boeing!"at the Longacre Theater on W. 48th Street in midtown. It was my friend Lin Sue who told me I had to see it. The play originally opened in Paris in 1960 and is listed in Guinness as the longest running French play in history.

For those of you "Ally McBeal" fans, the leading male character in this play is actor Greg Germann. He was great; but it was his counterpart, actor Mark Rylance, who stole the show as Robert Lambert, the meek Wisconsinite who is astounded by his friend's "international harem" in Paris.

The play is about Bernard, a guy living in Paris who has three fiancees--one German, an Italian, and a New Yorker--all of whom are air hostesses and don't know the others exist. His French maid, the sarcastic Bertha (Christine Baranski), helps him keep their schedules organized. Of course, havoc ensues when the timetables change and all hostesses end up in the fancy Paris apartment at the same time. I laughed so hard at Mark's blatantly out-of-character antics that I cried. And the intense, passionate German gal (Missi Pyle) who falls in love with her antithesis, the mild-mannered Robert, was unbearably funny with her extreme melodramatic acts.

Oh, and the woman sitting to my left asked me before the show if I'd ever seen "Mad Men" on AMC. "Oh my God!" I told her, "I just met the creator of that show in a book shop!" She was all ears when I mentioned that tidbit! I didn't realize that Matt Weiner was recently featured in the New York Times until she told me about the article. And I shook hands with the guy just two days ago!

I've seen some really good shows this year. My favorites were "The 39 Steps," a Hitchcock mystery-turned-comedy, "Young Frankenstein," and tonight's "Boeing, Boeing!" All very funny. The Hitchcock play was fantastic, as the entire play was done by just four actors, each of whom could switch hats in a heartbeat to play a different role on the fly. With incredible talent, they carried their own props on and off stage as part of the act. Turning "The 39 Steps" into a true comedy is not only original--it's pure genius. For that show and tonight's as well, I had the best seat in the house - mezzanine front row center, where one can see the entire stage!

My brother Dave was in town in August for "Young Frankenstein." The lead male was played by Roger Bart, former pharmacist George from "Desperate Housewives." However, it was Igor (Christopher Fitzgerald) who stole that show.

Also this year, I got to see "Curtains," with David Hyde Pierce, a play about a play where one of the crew is murdered. It was fun, but it didn't hold a candle to Mr. Pierce's performance in "Spamalot" in late 2005.

How lucky I am to have all of this wonderful entertainment just a few subway stops from home. As I was coming home tonight on the 3 train, I nearly cried when I thought about moving away from NY a second time.

I'm telling you, once you've lived here, no place else is good enough. I have never in my life lived in another place where just walking down the street made me feel so alive and happy to be. And I love my wonderful apartment with its huge arch window and great landlord. How often does that happen? To me, never.

Maybe I can get my Masters degree in computer forensics and come back. But if I come back to NYC for a third time, it'll take a stampede of wild horses to drag me away again. I swear it: I am not done with New York yet, and I don't think I'll ever be finished with it.

More Than Just a Celebrity Sighting Today

Today I went into the City to get my Manhattan fix. From 14th St & 7th Ave, I walked to do some shopping at 6th & 18th, then up to 23rd, and over to Madison Square Park. It was a beautiful blue-sky day, about 60 degrees. I'd forgotten that there was an art exhibit in the park - but was reminded quickly when I saw several tree houses perched above me. (Actually, I didn't know it was an "art" exhibit until I Googled it just now - turns out that tree houses, not unlike scaffolding waterfalls, can be art too.)

I was done with my shopping but not done with the City, so I walked up Madison Ave and decided to stop in at one of my favorite places - the Astro Gem shop at 34th St. I did a little Christmas shopping there and then wandered up the block to the antique book store that I've been dying to go into for months. Every time I've been past it in the past it was closed.

I walked in and a charismatic, good-looking guy immediately caught my attention - he was telling the nice, curly-haired Croatian book store attendant a story. How easily I got pulled in. The customer doing the talking was like a magnet - the kind of guy that everyone gravitates to at a party. He was telling a story about a buddy of his who used his own hole puncher to get free coffee at Starbucks with those wallet-sized 'club' cards that you get punched every time you purchase a coffee.

It seems his buddy had punched a card himself and presented it to the barista gal at a Starbucks as payment for his coffee. Apparently he'd gotten away with his scheme in the past. But the young gal wasn't buying it. She took one look at the card and said, "You punched all of these today." How could she tell? Customer Guy explained it - there were bits of paper still attached to each hole on the back of the card. "You know, like hanging chads," he said, and I had to laugh as I recalled that fiasco from the last election.

But the girl absolutely refused to give his buddy a free coffee because she suspected he'd cheated on his card. My two new friends in the book store both felt that she should've given him the free coffee because Starbucks is a multi-million dollar corporation. To me, it was more like stealing. But, after reflecting, it occurred to me that they did have a point. What's the big deal over one lousy cup of coffee? Customer Guy's point of the story was that this coffee shop girl was on a power trip.

"That's just like my experience at the post office yesterday," I told the guys. I explained that I was mailing a box of books in a used box that still had some 'Bath and Body Works' printing on the box. But I'd taken a magic marker and marked through the writing because the post office has some new rule about marking out everything pre-printed on a box. My marker was low on ink, but I managed to mark through everything before I left home for my walk to the P.O.

Nonetheless, the woman at counter wouldn't take my box. I said, "But I marked through the writing." She looked at the box and started reading aloud, " Bath and Body Works, 1-800- . . . ." I was like, "Ok, ok. But, come on, I marked through it." She said nope.

I tried again, "But I walked all the way here from home, can't you please take it this time so I don't have to go all the way home and come back? See, I marked through everything!" (like a good little customer).

Not only did she refuse to mail my package but she claimed there were no magic markers at the post office. (Right, and chickens don't lay eggs.) There was absolutely no reason for her to refuse my package. I'd clearly done my due dilligence and marked through all the printing on the box. I just hadn't done it well enough for this disgruntled postal worker who is obviously a control freak.

As I told the guys in the book store, I waited five minutes at the other end of the post office, then I simply walked over to another window and gave the box to a different postal employee to mail. The girl didn't look twice at it, much less make any remarks about my poor marking job.

Mr. Customer sided with me, saying, "It's all about power and control," and proceeded to tell us another story about a time he was a student living in Spain.

We talked for a little while longer. Eventually we were done telling our 'power trip' stories. I was anxious to browse the wonderful old books. I was looking at these cool antique maps when I overheard Mr. Customer say something to Book Store Guy about his "show." I kept browsing. A bit later, I turned around and asked him "What show do you do?" He told me, "Mad Men on AMC." I'd never heard of it, I told him. I said there are only a few shows on TV that I really like to watch, like Law & Order. He told me that his show is about a 1960's ad agency in NY. And, as I recall, he mentioned something about it winning a couple of Emmys.

Then he asked me, "You ever watch The Sopranos?"

"Oh, of course!" I told him, "I love The Sopranos." He said that he'd done several of those episodes too. I told him I thought that was cool (of course).

I assumed he was a writer. Nice guy. Extremely engaging. Great talker and story teller. He introduced himself as Matt, we shook hands, and he left the store with a smile and a wave to both me and Book Store Guy. After Matt walked out, I turned around and told Book Store Guy, "See - that's what I love about New York! You meet so many interesting people," and he agreed.

He and I chatted later. Turns out he has a PhD and teaches Philosophy at Fordham. But he only makes $20,000 a year! Man, those are poverty wages for NY. That's why he lives in a s----y studio apartment and has to do the book store job on the side, he told me. Meanwhile, high school teachers start at $50K, and his ex-girlfriend, who is a jewelry buyer for some NY company, makes $160K a year. To buy jewelry. How unfair is that? She's in her 20's making $160,000 for a job that Book Store Guy said, ". . . would be like me going into Versace to pick out suits."

I had a great day. But here's the cool part. This evening I decided to Google Mad Men to find out if this guy Matt's name is listed as a writer.

Boy was I wrong. He's not a writer on the show, he's the creator of the show!

So, the attractive and outgoing Customer Guy with the great personality is actually a big TV producer by the name of Matthew Weiner! Here he is on the AMC web site, with that same genuine, engaging smile. There are more photos of him on IMDB. Wow! I shook hands with a television show producer today and didn't even know it at the time. That's another first for me. (If you live in New York, you get lots of those. How lucky I am.)

It's like the couple who looked at my apartment yesterday (which is up for rent now). She's an attorney, and her husband Chris works at Gracious Home, an awesome home decorating store chain here in NYC. Apparently, he has celebrity sightings all the time at work, his most recent being Goldie Hawn (which he failed to tell his wife for two whole weeks afterward, as if it was nothing. She, of course, had a cow when she found out. "Why didn't you tell me?!").

How cool is that. I love New York. :)

Law & Order in New York

Do these Law & Order episodes sound familiar to you? I'm sure I've seen them all myself:

- An SUV drives into a storefront, injuring several people

- A dead body is found in suitcase in a park in Yonkers

- A man is shot by live ammunition in civil war re-enactment

- A 21-year veteran police officer commits suicide after causing the death of a mentally ill man in Brooklyn who fell to his death after being tasered by police

You've seen these episodes, right?

Well, these aren't television episodes - these are actual events that were reported on the local news earlier this month in New York City. Maybe I've just been watching too much news on TV since I joined one of the 159,000 newly unemployed Americans last month. Or, maybe every night on the news is like another episode of NYPD Blue or Law & Order, and I just haven't been paying attention the past year. But it's all real.

And yesterday I saw an episode play out on a street corner in the heart of Brooklyn. It was mid-day and I was walking to the mall at Flatbush and Atlantic Avenue to buy groceries at the Pathmark. Waiting for the walk signal, I saw a black man chasing another, taller, better dressed black man on the sidewalk across the road from me. The smaller guy in the baseball cap grabbed the back of the other guy's sweater and tried to push him down. People were staring, and the big guy was yelling for the other to leave him alone. The little guy had a hard time taking down the larger man.

As I crossed the street, a hefty black woman headed toward the two who were scuffling. I couldn't tell who she was defending as she threw herself into the mix, yelling about "spraying" one of them. The guy on the ground was yelling to leave him alone, he didn't do nothin'. I wondered outloud, "Where are the cops?" To me, it looked like this guy was about to get beat up by the others. It appeared that maybe this guy had stolen something from the woman, and the little guy was helping her take him down.

When I got to the other side of the street, the smaller guy finally had the big guy on the ground and was emptying the victim's pockets. The woman was on him too, and she repeatedly threatened, "I'm goin' spray you. You know what dat is?" I felt sorry for the guy on the ground. I'm thinking that the pepper spray is about to come out and wondering if I need to call 911. Dozens of by-standers like myself stared on.

The big guy, arms pinned behind him, kept yelling for help, saying he'd done nothing. At this point, no one knew who the good guy was in this incident because no one had identified his or herself yet. I wasn't leaving until I knew - I kept waiting for the hand-cuffs to come out.

Momentarily, the loud-mouthed black woman with the bad grammar finally pulled out a pair of hand-cuffs. That's when I realized who the cops were in the scene, and I turned and walked away.

Five minutes later, while grocery shopping in the Pathmark, I saw an overweight guy shop-lift a Snapple off the shelf, saying to his friend, "You want sumthin' to drink?" He casually sauntered down the aisle with his drink. After a few sips, he put the lid back on, put the bottle on a different shelf, and they both walked nonchalantly out of the store.

I shook my head and kept on shopping.

A Quick Thank-you to our Troops

It only takes a second to click this http://www.letssaythanks.com/ link and send a card to a soldier in Iraq!

A Must-see Movie

Earlier today I was lamenting over losing tens of thousands of dollars in my retirement funds and other investments due to the Wall Street melt-down. It was a brief pity party, though, because my outlook changed after I popped in a Netflix movie called "God Grew Tired of Us." Trust me, once you've seen this movie, if you are an American with a roof over your head and a full belly when you go to bed at night, you'll begin to realize just how much more you have than many other people in this world.

The movie is nothing less than moving. The story is fantastic - it is about how the "Lost Boys" of the Sudan survived the long trek by foot across Africa to Ethiopia and later to the Kakuma refugee camp in Kenya to escape the civil war in 1992 - essentially to prevent getting shot for being Christian. Many watched their parents and siblings get shot. Many also watched half of their fellow refugees die of disease, starvation, and wild animal attacks during their journey.

These are young men who never knew electricity or running water. When someone in their clan got ill, it would take 20 men to carry that person the 75 miles to the nearest medical clinic. Their lives are community oriented, and they entertain themselves by singing, dancing, and laughing. It's touching how much they missed their families when the Lost Boys came to the states, and how their primary goal was to work hard to send money back home to help their community.

One of the interesting parts of the movie is when John Bul Dau, the lead Lost Boy in the movie, genuinely questions the purpose of the Christmas tree. Sure, it's a beautiful thing, he says, but he just doesn't understand the purpose behind it. In Africa, he explains, Christmas is about celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ. Whoa.

Very powerful stuff. With the economy in the shape it is right now, and all of us being stressed out, tense, and depressed over our finances, I can't think of a better time to watch this movie.

There is also a memoir, God Grew Tired of Us: A Memoir, written by John Bul Dau, who has made amazing strides to help the people in his homeland since coming to America in 2001. He now regularly appears at speaking engagements across the country. To find out more, visit http://www.johndaufoundation.org.

Celebrity Sighting at Union Square!

October 4, 2008

Today was a gorgeous, sunny fall day. Sweatshirt weather! I love it. I went online this morning to see if there were any street fairs going on. Sure enough, there was one on Park Ave South from 17th to 23rd Streets. I took the train (several trains, due to construction) to Union Square.

I love street fairs. I went up one side and down the other, looking for Christmas presents. I ended up with two pairs of reading glasses (just $7.50 each) and a $5 fanny pack for walking/jogging, plus a little something for my nephew Connor who likes to direct and star in his own movies.

Afterward, I was walking around the south end of Union Square, through the farmer's market, thinking "Man, it's really crowded." Passing between the vegetable stands, I saw a tall, good-looking, unshaven man heading toward me with his petite, unremarkable blonde wife and young child (I assumed) in a stroller. He was on his cell phone. I took a double-take because I thought I knew him. I wondered if we'd worked together or not. I memorized the face and kept walking.

Across the street in Filene's I couldn't stop thinking about that guy. Where do I know him from? Finally it dawned on me that he must be an actor. At Whole Foods I picked up the 40th anniversary edition of New York magazine and tucked it in my Filene's shopping bag. I thought and thought about it all the way home, but still I couldn't place the name of this actor.

At home I popped open my laptop, bound and determined to find this guy. I kept thinking, "Was he on CSI?" I could sort of picture him in a lab coat or uniform of some sort - in a serious role. I could even replay his facial expressions in my mind. (No doubt he appeared in Law & Order at some point, like every other NY actor.) I don't think I've watched a full episode of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, so I really couldn't say.

I went to IMDB and looked through the dozens of photos of actors who'd been on CSI, but that got old quickly. The list was too long and the photo thumbnails too small.

My next Google search on "new york actors" took me right to - would you believe - an article called "The New York Actor" in the 40th anniversary edition of New York magazine! The magazine still sat on the end table next to the chair I was in.

I flipped through the slide show of photos, hoping to find my mystery man. The photos are interesting because they show many of these famous actors and actresses as they look in real life - without the makeup. Meryl Streep, S. Epatha Merkerson, Patti Lupone, Ellen Barkin (ugh!), James Earl Jones. . . and then, there on slide nine was the celebrity I saw today!

It was Liev Schreiber.

And to think I was within 10 feet of him at the farmer's market today! Had I known about the magazine article, I could have figured it out on the R train on my way home.

A little research on IMDB led me to believe that the woman he was with at Union Square today, who walked directly to my right with her stroller, was none other than Naomi Watts, who last year had a baby with Liev. Now, the woman I saw with the stroller was not the least bit attractive. But after Googling "naomi watts no makeup," I can confirm it was in fact her. Right there at the farmer's market in Union Square - an event I've attended at least a dozen Saturdays in the past year.

It's about time I had another celebrity sighting! Not counting the Susan G. Komen race for the cure three weeks ago, it had been ages since I saw a celebrity on a NY city sidewalk. I live in NYC, for crying out loud! I should be bumping into Sarah Jessica Parker at the Pearl River Mart or Cynthia Nixon at Filene's on the upper west side. I should be rubbing elbows with more famous people! Hmph.

(Photo courtesy of New York magazine.)

Calling all Women!

It's national breast cancer awareness month, and if you are reading this, you can help in this battle.

Last night there was a blurb on the news about an "Army of Women" that is seeking 1,000,000 volunteers to help researchers in the battle against breast cancer. I went to the web site at www.armyofwomen.org and was registered by the time the news show ended. It's easy to sign up, and you have nothing to fear.

The movement was started by Dr. Susan Love in partnership with the Avon Foundation, and its mission is to find the cause for breast cancer:

We can be the generation that eliminates breast cancer by identifying what causes this disease and stopping it before it starts. This is your chance to be part of the research that will end breast cancer. Sign up for your sister, mother, daughter, granddaughter, best friend, and the woman you met last week.

Ladies, get involved now! Then invite 20 of your friends. Last night, the number of women who had registered totaled 30,000. Today, just 24 hours later, that number is over 107,000! We're 10% of the way there. Let's be the generation that puts a stop to breast cancer.

Oh yeah, and you can purchase a cool pendant for just $5.00 too. :) Or, make a tax-deductible donation in support of the cause.

Ah... New York!

September 30, 2008

Every time I step outside it's a new experience. That's just one of the things I love about NYC - so many people, so many different lives, so much activity always happening.

This afternoon I decided to go for a walk. The weather was finally gorgeous here (read: no humidity). Sunny, dry, upper 60's/low 70's. My favorite weather.

I was walking across the familiar stone surface of Cadman Plaza, approaching a pod of pigeons near the statue at the north end of the park, when suddenly a large brown rat darted across the ground directly ahead of me, headed straight for the city trash can just off to my right. Usually they only come out at night on the plaza.

A young woman headed toward me had that wide-eyed look on her face when she saw the rat. I laughed and said to her, "That's one bold rat - in broad daylight, no less!" She winced in agreement, exclaiming, "I thought it was a cat!" as she rushed passed me. I laughed so hard - the rats are big here in Brooklyn, but not that big! Too funny.

I turned to see the rat's rear end poking out of the bottom of the slatted trash can container as I continued on my walk. It occurred to me later that I definitely belong in New York if the sight of a rat sharing the walkway with pedestrians doesn't even faze me.

A funny thing happened in Central Park yesterday, where I went to do my first full jog around the Jackie O. reservoir. (Woo-hoo - I did it! 1.58 miles.) Wearing an oversized Mariners t-shirt and short, baby blue cotton "biker pants," I was walking briskly up the east path from 60th Street toward the reservoir when I passed a nice couple walking in the same direction. The dad had his young toddler son perched atop his shoulders. About 20 feet past them I thought I heard the kid say something about someone "wearing her underwear outside." I looked down at my thigh-length leggings and suddenly realized the kid must be talking about me.

Then I heard it again, "She's wearing her underwear outside!" Then I knew the kid meant me. I turned around to see the mom's face had turned beet red as the mortified father tried to shield his son's face with some colorful object in an effort to shush him. I was laughing and told them, "I've never been accused of that before!"

Not long before that, on the same path, and older lady wearing a long rain coat and hat (and other winter attire) was walking ahead of me, ranting and raving very loudly about something. I noticed that she was following a tall, white-haired gentleman who was walking hand-in-hand with a young child. The man was smoking a cigarette.

As I got closer I heard what the rant was about. The woman was carrying on antagonistically about "filthy, f---ing cigarettes" and how they cause "f---ing tuberculosis" and other maladies and pollution. She was just going on non-stop like a lunatic. (She was obviously a tad touched.) Granted, I agree with her that it's a filthy habit and I wish people didn't smoke in public--(yes, I'm an ex-smoker, forgive me for the times I did that) . . . but I still felt sorry for the old guy who was just minding his own business, taking a Sunday stroll through the park with his grandson.

He ignored her and kept walking at the same casual pace, despite her rants becoming louder and more animated. I walked right past her, wanting to tell her to watch her language around all these kids, but I knew it would be a fruitless effort.

And that's what New Yorkers do. We've seen and heard it all. And so we just keep on walking. . . .

Bodies: The Exhibition

September 27, 2008

Today I braved the rain and severe humidity to go over to Fulton Street Market in the City to see "Bodies: The Exhibition." It is absolutely amazing.

If you haven't seen this show and it comes to your town, I highly recommend it. Currently, in the U.S., it's showing in Vegas, NYC, Indianapolis, and Honolulu. This exhibit contains displays of real human cadavers, dissected in numerous ways to show the inner workings of the human body.

The bodies come from a medical university in China. It is truly facinating how people managed to remove, for example, all of the tissue surrounding the entire circulatory system and preserve that incredibly complex mesh of veins and arteries in its original form. How on earth did they do that? In another part of the show, the entire central nervous system is laid out on a table.

Very impressive. When I inquired the amount of time it would take to do such work, I found out that the show was 10 years in the making.

There were several organ samples showing various diseases (cancer, Parkinson's, etc.), and some cross-sections of the brain of a stroke victim. I couldn't believe how black the smoker's lungs were. Nearby was a huge, enclosed clear acrylic container full of partially used cigarette packs. There was a slot cut out in the top for patrons to toss their cigarettes after seeing the condition of those lungs.

I saw an aneurism, a peptic ulcer, hardened arteries, gallstones, cancer of the larynx, skin melanoma, advanced breast cancer, lung cancer, diverticulosis, intestinal polyps, an ovarian cyst, cirrhosis of the liver, a real pair of conjoined twin fetuses, an ectopic pregnancy, and much more. Nothing short of fascinating. I held a real human liver in my hand, along with a brain, a muscle, and a shin bone. Oh, and the the multiple vertical cross sections of an overweight woman was enough to make me (briefly) consider never eating again.

There's a video about the processes behind Bodies on YouTube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AqKvYUO7C7w, which actually takes you to one of the Chinese "body factories" and describes the preservation process, called plastination. In this video you will see medical students dissecting cadavers and placing them in "playful" positions for the exhibit.

Apparently this is a big business in China. Another video takes you inside the actual exhibit, narrated by a forensic pathologist: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3kJmypE1DGQ.

That's it. Time for dinner!