The weather in New York is deceiving.  There is no way one can look outside their window and realize the temperature or conclude the kind of day it is going to be.  It can rain any day, whether it is hot and humid, or cold and windy.  It has been an interesting experience trying to learn how to dress for thirty degree weather when it “looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day out!”  But, it is just as dreadful as it sounds when you look outside and think “it’s a blizzard out there…I don’t want to leave the house.”  During the snow storms or “pretty” snowfall, there are few people that go “LET’S GO OUTSIDE TODAY!!!”  It’s freezing, the ice that has melted on the ground has turned into slush and the temperature can still make your feet cold even if you have on wellies and a couple good pairs of thick socks.  Even with those leggings on underneath my workpants, my sweater and scarf followed by my coat and beanie and gloves–I never leave the house when it’s cold out thinking “looks like it’s going to be beautiful”  I’ve come to the small conclusion that this is because it’s beautiful until you’re in it and really experience it.  Then it just becomes another day.  Another obstacle to make time to get past on your way to work.  The commute will only take longer because I will walk slower because I’m shivering and don’t want the wind to knock me down onto the street–which it has once or thrice before.  Not to mention the bag I take with me everywhere I go because I have too much stuff to tote around with me.  These are the times I miss having a car.  A vehicle I can get to quickly, that can warm me or cool me down with the turn of a knob, and get me as close to the front door of work as possible without the 10 minute hike through the “beautiful weather outside”

I’d say the few and far between times where the icy weather doesn’t have it’s bitter and sharp stabs of chill sneaking up on you, are when you are bundled up–and walking next to the person that makes you happy, and they are also bundled up.  I mean, at least your in it together.  You have company, you’re going to get through it together!  All of that sounds great and inspiring and even encouraging to some extent.  But you know, when it gets down to it–when it’s cold outside, I don’t want it anywhere near me.  I like the feel of warmth and comfort.  I feel more alive when I don’t feel like I’m going to freeze to death.  I think that’s fair to say.

That said…

It’s always an easy topic of conversation.  Always sounds cliche, but it’s something the  next human can relate to with you.  People comment on one another’s coats or gloves.  They complain about the heat indoors when they have to delayer.  They make light comments about how the weather affected their day, but you know what…whoever came up with the opening line regarding the weather–had relationships on their mind.

“Nice day today” great opening line.  Kind, non intrusive.  Circulation is running normal so no need to run from me because I’m not going to jump on you for body heat, nor am I so hot that I’m sweating in the most unattractive places one could be sweating in.  (I think you sat in a puddle, must be so humid out there–nope it’s my ass-sweat…not a great opening line)

“It’s gonna be a scorcher!”  My mom used to say that when it was going to be in the 90’s or even hit the hundreds (and why do I say hundredS, as if it maybe be one to 4 hundred degrees at some point today…stupid).  We’d wear tank tops, shorts, and forget the SPF, I’m half islander I will tan!!–except no I won’t because I personally burn..anyway!  dot dot dot hot days always led to finding something cool to drink or something that could melt on you that you wouldn’t complain about, like ice cream.  Well, some might complain because it could get sticky but it’s cooling the arm down so why not let it melt down my hand and into my elbow crease.  This way I’ll have something to remind me about how much fun I had when it pulls at the skin later.  That and I’ll have something to complain about.

So wait a minute.  If it’s cold and windy (possibly raining, sleeting, or snowing) I’m going to complain.  If it’s hot and humid (possibly raining) I’m going to complain.  Even if it’s a “nice day out” I bet I’d complain because I’d still have to go to work (or school if you’re younger)  WELL–so the talking about the weather is just one way to make a complaint, using light easy, non intrusive or creepy, conversation.  That’s nice–except…when can I just be happy about it?

Sometimes I feel so in love that nothing could bring me down.  Then, of course, I have to leave those clenches of warmth and comfort to face “the real world” and I can have something to complain about.  Sometimes it really DOES feel like I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day.  And as long as I have a claw to pull my hair up, I don’t even mind that 50 mph wind gusting against my face making my eyes water.

There are few times when I’m okay with watery eyes. ..And I’ve noticed there are few times when the guy I’m dating can handle me with watery eyes.  Laughing so hard I cry.  Wind blowing in my face and eyeliner and mascara running down my face isn’t fun–but it’s never for long.  Tears of sadness though–yikes.  I hate those.  And so do the guys, am I right?  It’s such a personal and vulnerable thing to cry out of sadness or hurt.  It’s just like those icy cold days where I have to bundle up even though I will still be cold.  Like, there’s no stopping it but for some reason I’m supposed to keep going.  Crying doesn’t mean I get to stop doing everything, in fact it means I should probably do everything MORE and with more purpose and meaning because then it can get my mind off of what ever made me cry–then I can cry out of anger.  Blow off everyone and not give a shit how my words come out or who gets left in my wak of destruction.  Anger makes me come across distraught and sort of torn, but with reason!!! Crying could easily just mean I’m a big baby and someone hurt my feelings.  Except…that’s when we want people to be the most careful, isn’t it?  I mean, when I’m pissed say anything you want, it will only make me MORE pissy, or not change me at all–nothing you say or do will help me feel better.  But if I’m crying, there are many things you could say or do to make me feel better.  Granted, there is perception of the situation in all this, but simply–the first reaction when someone is crying is to think “what’s wrong?”

That’s why the weather is so confusing in NY (what?)  It’s deceiving.  It can be beautiful to look at through those double paned windows but step out and it will feel like it’s trying to destroy you.

Now read that last mini paragraph with “relationships are” instead of “weather is”

Now look at your modern furniture designed to look distraught, agitated and used up a bit.  It’s one thing to earn those scratches and dings, but to do it for looks is just as deceiving as hearing “it’s raining in New York”  because that could mean more than one thing.

Whether the weather be cold, whether the weather be hot, we’ll whether the weather whatever the weather, whether we like it or not.

But…why?

The guys will want you to stop crying because they don’t know what to do with you when it happens, and they no longer have any sympathy left for you.  Complain about the cold.

Guys will love you quickly because you’re funny and smart and you (appear to be?) are easy going and care free.  Complain that they just want to be your friend.

Guys will fall for you, head over heels–and maybe smother you.  complain about the humidity.  It’s too hot to be close

Looks like all we can actually talk about, really, is the weather, and by talk I mean complain.

Now replace the word weather again.

And next time you watch the forecast check your horoscope too–why not.

 

Seems like January has already come and gone.  Nothing going on that I feel is worth writing about.  With the exception of food poisoning the last day, and a fairly odd dream that I woke up from my hitting my head on the wall saying “wake up” and My Darling helping me to wake–January has been boring other than that.

Maybe I could bother to write about my dream when I’m food deficient and still dehydrated.  But for now, I’m hoping I can sleep for more than 20 minutes at a time.

JANUARY: “Show me your Palauan Face!”

I was unable to be home for Christmas, so I took a trip home in January.  I had a calendar full of “appointments” for breakfast dates, lunch dates and dinner dates, karaoke nights, and family nights.  It was exhausting–I would do it again and again.  Ro and Anthony and I had gone to The Met, my first excursion, and we barely made it through 1/5 of the museum.  There was a full grown adult male in a pair of overalls that looked like a baby onesie.  No joke.   It snowed viciously, and I had the entire month off of school.

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FEBRUARY: “Oh my god it’s Kermit! The Muppets Take Manhattan!”

I started my second semester with school, and begun to not like it one bit.  Grace K came to visit NY and I got a chance to see her and she took me to see The Merchant of Venice with Al Pacino and have drinks across the street at Sardi’s.  Ro was baking cookies and goodies left and right, Anthony and I had a couple “just us” outings.  A mini reunion with a few PCPA grads (not from my class) with Kathleen and David and drinks,  and The Professor and I finally found time to hang out and grab some drinks.  And I teased him about his cel phone because it was the size of my foot.

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MARCH:  “Can I take a family pic?! Can I take a family pic?!”

I started having troubles sleeping.  I was getting anxious and dizzy, and often.  But I pushed through school and work.  Went out with Ro and Anthony, and our new friend Mark for St. Patricks Day where I took a tongue of guinness (note that I say tongue, because I did not sip it or drink said guinness) and Ro painted a clover on my face with fun face sparkly stuff.  Mark and I hung out again for a sushi night and spontaneously rented a car and drove to Atlantic City and played Roulette for a couple hours, then drove back.  I got home by 7am, took a nap, then got up and went to my classes and work.  At the end of the month I flew to Florida to vacation with Joshifer (aka The Guttersons) and Sammybear and meet my new little nephew James Gordon.  Had I not missed my flight at JFK, I would’ve been there for the birth (not in the room, but THERE maybe with Sammy bear, to help or SOMETHING).  But I got there later and got to spend a week with them.  It was perfect.  Honeybear and I watched movies in his room and played with his toys.  We ate food, we watched TV and when we watched the movie Morning Glory, I held little Jamey the whole time and he slept on my chest.  So precious.  I got my hair cut and colored while I was there, too.  And the rain was thunder was terrifying.

And I found out my sister was pregnant.  She sent me a picture of a sonogram and videotaped my reaction.

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APRIL:  “IWANNAGOTOMEDIEVALTIMESFORMYBIRTHDAAAAAAAYYYYYYY”

This is all that matters for April.

Fine.  My grades were slipping at school.  I was having health issues and missing a lot of school. Hilary came to visit and we got dressed up, She Ro and I, and went to watch Bound by Substance play in concert.  And Robin’s friend Beda (BAY-duh) had a list made by his girlfriend, Alana, for how to make her Easter Basket and what goes inside said basket.  It. Was. HILARIOUS.

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MAY:  “Is it a Chalice-night?”

Anthony had a birthday and Ro treated all of us to a Broadway show.  Alice in Wonderland .  A cute modern day version with boy-band silliness, cheshire cat full of “guatemaleness,” and a catepillar-thing…of sassy-ness.  It was cast very politically- correct. heh.  We (The Housemates and I)celebrated the fail-date for the End of the World by having drinks and food at The Poor House, somewhere in the village.  And my friend Mark and I went for an outing that included The Museum of Natural History (where the security guard snapped his fingers at me to get my attention and I made a scene about it, to him and his boss–oh yes I did), and drinks at some bar/restaurant called Columbus Tavern (or something to that nature).

Robin and I also found that our Medieval Times Chalices could hold a bottle of wine each.  Which became the birth of what we now celebrate as Chalice-Night when we have wine, maybe a snack and watch something on the TV just the two of us.  School had finished.  I barely passed some of my classes, but wrote an excellent paper in my writing class about the different levels of “knowledge” with reference to passages from The Republic.

I began dating someone.  And until I thought we were serious, I dubbed him The Mystery Man to all friends and family.

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JUNE: “Hi Mom, you and I are going to see Paul” (mom freaks out)

I had to call 9-1-1.  Yah, that happened.  My health had gotten worse and I took an ambulance to the ER where I laid on a bed in a hallway for 5 hours.  They did blood work and an EKG. Wow.  Robin came to sit with me, and so did The Mystery Man.  I flew home to CA for a visit.  My youngest brother, Rik, graduated from high school.  When he walked the stage he shook hands then did a hi-jump karate kick.  My sister’s baby bump was in full show and got to rub the belly.  I surprised my Maamm with tickets to see Paul in Vegas.  And Ginger surprised me at the SLO airport to say goodbye and give me a ringpop.  To, of course, prove her love.

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JULY: “We have the same smile, because we’re sharing the same happiness” (that’s all him folks.  I can’t come up with romantic cute stuff like that)

The Mystery Man was revealed via video.  We had a countdown for it and everything.  He edited it and added music (one of *our* songs “Patience” by his friend GNR–I know we’re cute and it’s gross.  I’m okay with being a cliche).  Daaaaannaa had been in NY for a visit and we got to meet up at Book Off (favorite place to waste time), watched a movie at home and had breakfast the next day at a place called Kitchenette.  They have awesome, oversized french toast.  Sam, my Darling, took me to Jersey where we ate a Chili’s (so excited to have chicken enchilada soup, caesar salad, and the special yummy cake) and

 he bought us a dresser at IKEA, to share–because he moved in. heheheheh

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AUGUST:  “Fill the tub with water and stock up on canned goods”

My cousins Cara and Leah were visiting NY and I got to see them briefly.  We met up at Crumbs and had…delicious…cupcakes and chatted. Ro had a birthday and we had a girls night out where we dressed up and started the evening off right: with a wine cooler and a straw in brown

paper bags for the train ride to The Zebra Room (It’s actually called Planet Rose but everything in their is zebra print).  And we had a Hurricane Warning.  Parts of Manhattan, Brooklyn and Queens were evacuated.  I didn’t know what was going on until BoyfriendJenn texted me about all this stuff I should make sure I have to “prepare” and I was like..”prepare for what?”  Many stores stayed closed.  The MTA was shut down (that’s the trains and busses) for the weekend and everyone else stayed indoors.  Ro taped the windows in the event of them breaking to lessen the odds of shattering.  Matt found a “survival” pack his friend left behind, complete with some kind of gas mask, and I received “Catastrophe” pay from work, because if there wasn’t a natural disaster happening–I would’ve been at work.  I also decided I was not going to return to school in the fall, maybe ever.  I met the Naked-Cowboy, and got up early to see Stevie Nicks for Good Morning America’s Concert Series.

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SEPTEMBER: “I love that I’m not in school, and do I need a storage unit?”

I’m not in school.  I’m elated.  Just work.  Work and hang out with my housemates, and spend time with My Darling, and have some wine.  My sister was gearing to pop her baby boy, whose name was a mystery.  My Darling and I were going out and about to fulfill

 “Your New York, My New York” moments for people on the list.

 I was having girl nights with Ro.  One night she and I went to the San Gennaro festival

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OCTOBER: “Oh! Hellozz! Hello baby Bennett, Auntie Nani says hhhiiiiii”

My sister had her baby at the end of September, and My Darling and I flew out the following week to vacation and visit.  This was the first time he met my friends and family.  Everyone likes him.  I didn’t make appointments to see everyone this visit.  I simply said I would be visiting family mostly.

There was a night for karaoke, of course.  And Seanah offered her home to have a Meet-n-Greet BBQ for everyone to meet Sam.  It was quite a turnout.  Kevin brought karaoke, everyone brought food, we drank and sang and visited.

We cried–well, I cried and some of the other ladies cried too.  I drank Jameson from the bottle with a straw.  Had quiche every morning.  Had sushi at Izakaya Raku.  We went to my Dadda’s house for dinner.  It was a wonderful visit. Little Bennet is precious and perfect.  Adorable and beautiful.  Bennett even got his dad’s blue eyes, and they have a hint of a slant from my sister.

 For Halloween Ro got her and I Merlotte’s shirts and aprons, Sam went as a “fang banger” and Mattie went as Dexter Morgan, laminate included. heh.  Ro made these awesome fangs out of press on nails.  Seriously.

I watched Halloween (movie) for the first time, followed by Halloween 2, then skipped all the middle ones and watched H2O.  I was curled up next to Amy (Meredith’s friend, they came out for a visit) on the couch because we were equally scared of his creepiness.

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NOVEMBER: “You draw….FAST”

Have I mentioned how happy I was to NOT be in school?  I mean, sure I was struggling with money–who wasn’t? who isn’t? (besides celebrities and computer programmers…heh).  Sure there was my health issues, but those finally seemed to get under control, which was a nice change.  I was still working, still spending time with my housemates, and still getting to know My Darling.  I had seen his drawings before, then I watched him work and was in awe.  He entered a contest for drawing a movie poster for the movie Ghost Rider 2: Spirit of Vengeance.  It was fun to see him in artsy zone.

I also had an enormous craving for ice cream.  I wanted some everyday.    Thanksgiving came and we had friends over.  Everyone made something, or brought something and I finally got my hands on some eggnog–with spiced rum in it.  I ate until I was ridiculously full.  I sampled everything, drank wine and had some of all three of the desserts.  We even played Telestrations.  Best new game of the year.

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DECEMBER: “Hit the reindeer button again”

The holidays continued to creep in and I began picking up shifts at my old store.  I needed hours, and it felt okay playing a guest role.  I wrote my first letter to Santa Claus in many, many years and I drank eggnog almost everyday.  For reals.  If it was around all year long, I’d always have it in the house.  For…reals.  Sam’s poster drawing was selected as a finalist and voting goes until the fourth.  Anthony moved back to Utah, and this was My Darling’s first Christmas with us (me and housemates) and was introduced to some family traditions.

 It was easier this year than it was last year to be away from family.  I still wore my Christmas shirt my Auntie Barbs made for me a few years back, and the reindeer jammy pants my sister sent me last year.  Ro was the winner because she made me cry when she presented me with my gift.

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I ended this year on the couch alone with red wine in one hand and a sleeping pill in the other.  The Christmas tree lights were on and song “Rhapsody on a Theme of Paginini” from the movie Somewhere in Time was playing.  The housemates were either working or out drinking, and My Darling was spending New Years with his son.  It was quiet.

My 2011 Goals were:

1) Take heed in this advise “Be patient, and wait”

2) Continue to take care Mentally, Physically, and Emotionally. A new therapist is in store, perhaps.

3) Read more than in 2010 (oooOOOooo), this whole reading-on-purpose thing is hard…but I’m game!

4) Find a job better than the one I have currently.  No “real” complaints, but I could use the cash…

5) Write more

Results:

1) Only sometimes, it takes longer than one would think

2) My health issues were intense this last year, but are in the better stages of under control.  I still want a new therapist.

3) Nope.  I mean, I read–but I didn’t end up reading more than the year before

4) Same place, I was promoted and am going to be promoted again.  Right now, it’s the best path for me.

5) Doubt it.  It’s almost like I didn’t have time, but I know I did.  So then it was like I never had anything to write about.  But I know I did.  So maybe, I was just too lazy.

I read:

Ruling House, Water for Elephants, Deception Point, The Republic, Acting: The First Six Lessons, Dating the Divorced Man, Awakened, Dragon’s Oath, The Lost Symbol, and It’s not that I’m bitter…

I almost finished another one, but that will have to go on next year’s list.

I’m unsure of the goals I want to set in place for this year.  I no longer feel driven or motivated to do much other than: Go to a job I don’t mind doing, spend time with my friend and with My Darling, hopefully I’ll get my NY esthetician license (I submitted for it three times now), and find Peace.  I want to be a responsible, accountable adult and I want my brother the Smurf to move out here as planned.  It would be good for him, and me too.  I hope I can relearn any music/songs I’ve written, now that I have a new piano, and although being far away from family can be hard I am thankful for the technology that allows them to feel close.  I get a picture of my nephew Bennett everyday from my sister.  I appreciate texting and video chatting and I hope that I can find the discipline within me to grow up a little bit more and be a better housemate, girlfriend, sister, daughter, auntie, cousin, friend, and more.  I am thankful the people in my life love me and appreciate me, just as I am with no expectations held over my head for guilt.  I do not know what this year will hold, or might hold.  I do know, however, that it will change me–and I believe that’s okay and that I’m ready.

And we’re off…

My sleeping pattern is getting worse.  I’m not tired until 2 or 3 in the morning, so I sleep until 11am ish.  Go to work, or not (depending on the ever fluctuating schedule they post), come home by 9 or 10pm ish, and then I have to come down from my day.  You know?  I mean, those 8-5pmers don’t go to bed at 5:30.  They have dinner, they do laundry, dishes, feed their kids, work on stuff, play on fb (you know I’m right) etc.  So, I do the same thing it’s just no until 10 or 11 o’clock at night.

And if I want to get promoted I have to be available for mornings.  I refuse to open a store though–seriously.  I got up and opened stores 3-5 times a week for 4 years, I’ve paid my dues.

I need to make a career move.  I need to eat better and start exercising again.  I love the gym when I’m there and feel great after I leave…I just…don’t..go.  I don’t know why.  I need to drink water. I used to drink about 100oz a day, now I think I drink twelve.

There are Christmas decorations up in the Living room and hallway.  Haven’t got the tree yet, but we’re supposed to get it soon.

My Darling is asleep next to me, I love him.  I love that he lives with me, that I get to snuggle up next to him every night and kiss n hug him every morning.  I love sitting and chatting with him and joking with him.  I love watching movies and TV shows with him.  I love eating when he cooks. hahah  I have no idea what to get him for Christmas, and further more don’t think I’ll have money to get anyone anything for Christmas.  Including the project I have set aside for three years now for my family.  It’s not that I procrastinate, it’s that I don’t have the funds to complete the project.

I get to video chat with Sister and the Babester tomorrow, that will be good.

I get to do laundry–that will be boring, and I hate hauling the laundry up and down those five flights of stairs.

aaaand I’m tired.  Goodnight Neverland.

Dear Santa,

If you were paying attention to the year I’ve had you’ll understand why I’m actually writing a letter this year.  Normally, as you know, I don’t ask for anything at Christmas time.  Not like when I was little and Sister and I had our minds or hearts set on something, one thing, that was AMAZING.  But this year is different because I’m at a complete loss and guess I need some kind of miracle.  And also, I have more than one thing to ask for.  Think of it as me just trying to catch up for the past, oh I don’t know, twenty years or so.

In no particular order, for Christmas I would like …no…LOVE

1) Contact lenses.  I’m out. They are 70$ plus tax and shipping per box, and each box offers three months worth of contacts.  They are: Air Optix Night and Day Aqua.  Power: -1.50; BC: 8.6; DIA: 13.8.  And if they ask what I need for the Left eye–don’t freak out.  My eyes are the same.  THAT’s why one box lasts 3 months, because there are a total of 6 lenses in the box. ok? ok.

2) Boots.  Two kinds, woops! OH and new Slippers, the squishy and super comfy kind!  I need something for the rain and snow, my wellies (galoshes or rain boots) lasted last year, but took QUITE the beating and eventually ripped.  I don’t need crazy hiking in the snow boots, but get to work and around town protected form crazy puddles of ice cold water and mud and stuff.  And I found a pair of boots I like at Target.  Providing they are fairly comfy I’d wear them quite often since I only own uncomfortable heels I don’t wear lately because I’m too heavy and don’t have anywhere to wear them TO, I have work shoes, shape-ups (which I’ve torn to shreds by now) and a pair of exercise shoes that actually hurt my feet…  The pair of black boots I have, have a heel and I’m looking for something without one.

3) Gift Card for food.  I’m totally serious.  And unfortunately, as you know, we don’t have a Ralphs, or Vons, or Albertsons around here so just some kind of gift card that’s linked to a Visa/AmEx/MC type thing would be helpful–and I would absolutely buy vegetables not junk food, I promise.

4) A Promotion or Really Great Career move.  I need a real life adult salary that I can actually live on.  Not just survive. LIVE.  Pay all my bills.  Rent, phone, gas, electric, medical bills, prescriptions, train cards every week, FOOD–you know, important stuff. And a trip home to visit.  Those are all valid and good reasons to want a real life adult salary.   I know you have little to nothing to do with this aspect of my life, but I thought I’d just throw it out there.  I have medical bills to pay, and I’ve come to that time in my life where my health is beginning to REALLY matter.  That’s physical, emotional and mental health.

5) New Sheets.  Queen Size, deep fitted sheet and a high thread count because it’s softer and I like to rub my feet on the sheet as I fall asleep curled up with My Darling.  Nothing Pink or childish.

6)Clothes that actually fit.  I know, I know.  Story of my life.  If I ate better and drank more water and worked out, I’d probably maintain a size 14 frame–which I am not currently.  However, even if clothes tend to fit me I never like them.  So maybe I should be more specific and say Clothes that fit AND that I like.  Or a Gift card would probably suffice, as well.

7) A new pair of exercise shoes. The ones I have hurt my feet.  I need something that won’t crush my toes, or make my heels bleed or hurt my instep.  I don’t know much about these kinds of shoes so I can’t give you a picture or tell you exActly what I want–but I AM a size 10 (sometimes a 9 or 11 though….oops.  And do they even MAKE 10 1/2?)

8.)My Macbook needs some updates.  A new Hardrive, Disc drive–that kind of stuff.

9) Vitamins! Ugh.  I’m out of my Life Force completely.  I need C. I need D3 (5,000 IU’s)  And I think I should get an allergy test thing done, and an actual physical to see how I am overall.  Just throwin’ it in there.

10) Harsher punishments for parole violation, and World Peace.

11) I also found gaucho pants online at Target that I’d like.  Even though it’s the Junior Section–they sell a XXL which would fit me!  Plus size clothes are ugly…

Love,  Aiyani

Loud.

This state is loud.  Well, Manhattan is loud.  I’ve been to the Bronx a few times to go to Target, I’ve been to Queens to a friends house for things like Star Wars first-time viewings and True Blood Season Premiere and I’ve been to the airport in Queens.  I’ve been in Brooklyn once, to pick up my bed when I moved here.  And what’s the other borough? OH Jersey. heh.  I’m kidding.  Staten Island, I believe. The one you have to take a fairy to get to.  Haven’t been there yet.  Haven’t been to Long Island or Roosevelt Island (and I’m told there’s good sushi there).  SO.  Manhattan is loud.

There really ARE sirens ALL the time.  And no one stops to wonder where they are going because it could be an emergency, it could be lunch time– no idea.  Most of us are under the impression they are needed somewhere to help someone.  However much we are under that impression, we don’t move fast enough to get out of their way when they are coming.  Yes.  People still walk across the street with a screaming ambulance racing through the stop lights, just missing the stupid guy walking across the street.  The cars do not move out of the way either.  The drivers seem to look in their rearview mirror and then back at the traffic in front of them, and no one tries to get out of the way.  Where would they go?  Once in a while I’ll see the cars at least angle towards the right, as if to say “if I bothered or cared I’d move ‘this’ way, like I was taught in Driver’s Ed.”   But for the most part, it doesn’t seem like any vehicles really get out of the way for the ambulances or fire trucks or police.  They only pull over if they have met their destination.  And sometimes I think about their karma ju-ju and shake my head and roll my eyes.

Car alarms really DO go off at all hours of the day and night.  No one EVER does anything about them.

Helicopters are constantly, get that? CONSTANTLY,  circling either for fun, or maybe looking for someone, like Ro said the other day.  heh.

Taxi’s and gypsy cabs are honking their horns, even in the “no honking” zones.  Yes, those really exist, it even says something like “$300 fine for honking”  but you know what, I guess since the traffic and the honking, the police can’t actually GET to them to fine them.  Shrug.  Vicious circle.  Also, the drivers of these cars (the yellow cabs and gypsy cabs) must go to a special drive-in-manhattan school because they all drive the same.  And it’s crazy.  And it often feels unsafe.  They drive with intention, that’s fine.  I’m sure it has something to do with making money, but you know what–it makes me motion sick.  There is NO reason to hit the gas pedal hard to move fifteen feet forward, just so you can slam on the breaks before you hit the car in front of you.  No reason.  I once told my driver if he drove carefully, I’d double his tip.  He did, and I made good on my word.  But they are always swerving and speeding up and slamming on breaks and almost hitting cars and people–and everyone drives like this.  Even “normal” people.  normal as in, the people not driving cabs.  I mean, in la la land I would drive with purpose as well, but you gotta watch out for idiots changing lanes without blinkers, speeding jackasses, car wrecks bla bla bla.  These cab drivers do not care about the people in their car.  They care about the money in your wallet or on your card.  These are also the guys that anticipate the green light so much that their hand is on their car horn to honk at the person in front of them once it turns green, giving that person no time to remove their foot from the break and apply it to the gas.  Impatient.  They’re just impatient.  And too aggressive for the most part.  Some of them, however, DO stay on their side of the street. By the way while they are driving crazily they are playing bad music too loud or talking on their phones, on speaker phone.  Yah.  That.

People play their music Way. Too. Loud.  And they play that music during all hours of the night as if to say “as a matter of fact I DON’T care if you are trying to sleep, because I don’t care about anyone or anything other than myself.”  And no one calls the cops on them for disturbing the peace because, honestly, we don’t know where it’s coming from.  It’s not in my building, it’s two buildings over on I-don’t-know which floor.  So we deal.  I deal.  wah wah wah.  People also enjoy their music while walking the streets and sidewalks of Manhattan, or while on the train, or while on the bus, or or or.  SOME of them bother to wear headphones, NONE of which have it turned to a volume that only they hear.  They have those headphones in, and BLAST their music so I have to hear it anyway.  And it’s NEVER music I would enjoy.  EVER.  In fact, it seems to be music that I CAN’T EVEN STAND.  This makes the bus ride or train ride longer for me because in addition to the overly loud conversation between the teenagers and their friends, the screeching of the rails of the train, I get to hear bad music.  People also sing to their music players.  That’s always fun too.  It’s as if they don’t have any respect for the people around them–and they don’t.  I know they don’t.  And I choose my battles, but I’ve–often–asked people to turn down their music (of which all thus far have obliged, which was nice and shocking at the same time).  I’ve told people to stop yelling, or stop smacking their kids of I’ll smack them.  Yes, I have.  I’ve looked at the guy next to me playing his music without headphones and said “do you have headphones?” and he’s said “no” and I have said “then turn it off, I don’t want to hear it.”  And he looks at me as if to say “who they hell do you think YOU are?”  Then I stare right back, giving him the “evil eye” and just waiting.  Then he turns it down, I roll my eyes–but at least it’s not as loud as it was.

People talk on their phones on the bus.  Now, this is not the worst of anything, I get that.  And I’ve done it as well.  I tend to cup my mouth over the phone to try to trap my voice close to me and my phone, and only long enough to answer a question or say I’m on my way home, or something like that.  But there are people that will have a conversation on their phone as if they are trying to magically make a deaf person be able to hear.  And they are not on the phone briefly.  They are on it for my entire ride.  Yes, I take it personally.  They see me and think to themselves “oh!  She’ll be ridiculously annoyed if I use my phone!! NOW I’ll call my sister in Georgia or in Harlem even though I haven’t spoken to her in a while and we’ll relive each and every birthday or holiday together!  I’ll laugh and swear and use our special language that only we understand and I’ll do it until that girl gets off the bus!!”  Yes, all of that–I just know it.

Shut those kids up.  Now, gee that sounds mean doesn’t it?  I mean…kids will cry and yell sometimes.  They haven’t yet learned how to behave–or maybe they haven’t been taught either.  But I’m convinced if you pay attention to them and what they are trying to convey then at least, eventually, they will calm down a bit.  And this is a case by case thing, but what I’ve seen is the five year old (ish) yelling at his mom because he dropped his toy or the train floor, but the mom’s eyes are closed her headphones in (and yes blasting her music) and the only thing she is doing is telling the kid to shut-the-fuck-up.  And if the kid tries to go get his toy, she yanks his arm–hard it looks like–and the kid NOW has another reason to cry.  I’ve seen the binkies and bottles fall out of the the babies mouth and they don’t know where it is or how to put it back in their mouth and they are wailing with lungs of an opera singer–and the parent or person in charge of them ignores them to have their own conversation, or again listen to their music.  Kids fight over toys on the bus and train.  make them STOP and sit quietly.  MAKE them, they are old enough to understand.  Kids are running through stores yelling that they want this or that, grabbing stuff they could break, dropping it and breaking it, getting yelled at then crying because they got yelled at.  I was raised to keep my hands to myself in the stores, not to yell at anyone  while in the store but walk up to them to get their attention.  I’m sure I cried about wanting stuff when I was little, my mom could probably fill you in on that, but you know what I didn’t get rewarded for it. I didn’t get a new toy to shut me up, or another piece of chocolate.  Sometimes I’d get scolded, sometimes we’d just leave.  But I was never rewarded or hit for making noise.  Good job Maamm.  Good job Dadda.  And if you can’t take them out to the car–and in Manhattan this is a real thing–then take them somewhere else away from people.  Discipline them.  I didn’t say beat them.  And no, I don’t have kids so “how would I know?”  Well I have younger brothers that I babysat alot and nephews.  Surely if my Maamm and friends and Sister can care for their kids–you can too.