I don't know what it is, but apparently there is something about me that just screams to strangers "Hey you should make random conversation with me." I mean I guess it's a good thing because I guess it means I'm an approachable person, but sometimes it gets weird. I don't get your normal "Hi, how are you?" or "This weather is crazy isn't it?" No. This is what I get (and yes, all of these have happened):
While waiting to cross the street: "Oh, I love the color on your toes. It's so pretty and spring like. You know I'm a yoga teacher and people are constantly looking at my feet because I'm normally not wearing shoes. I mean I am today, but I always have to have a pedicure because I'm always barefoot. Except for today of course. But I think I may have to get that color next time. It's very nice. Who makes it? I'm sure all my yoga students would love to see that. It looks very calming and when they are looking at my feet it would calm them!"
While waiting for an elevator from across the lobby: "Hi there pretty. Why you look so sad? I mean I know it's raining outside and it's kind of a sad day, that doesn't mean that you need to be looking all sad. You too pretty to not have a smile on your face. I mean it. Smile. I always smile. I swear I'm not trying to pick you up. I'm just saying. I would take you to dinner sometime but not if you frowning. You too pretty for that."
-> After that I continued to frown and look away just so he would stop. He didn't. And this was the slowest elevator ever!!!!
While at the airport during a 9 hour delay: "So where are you going today?" Jacksonville. "Oh yeah, Jacksonville? I like it there. A lot. Ya know I go there sometimes. Maybe I could call you while in town and you could show me around." I thought you go there all the time? "I do but still." Umm no. Cue the walking away.
While on the subway: "Look at my phone. It has service! Do you see this? My phone has service on the subway. You know this has never happened to me before. It's kinda weird. You know what I think, in a couple years, everybody is going to have service on the subway and when we ride, we are all going to be talking to each other! Isn't that the craziest thing?" No, but know what is the craziest thing? How you won't shut up!
While also on the subway: "Oh hey mommy! You looking good! Me and some of my boys are going down to the corner. Want to come? Mommy you lookin' good! What's your name? Why you won't talk to me?" Why won't I talk to you? Because you are 14 and calling me "mommy." Hey news flash, a girl doesn't find it to be a turn on when you call her "mommy" or "momma." I'm a little to young to be a mother and even if I was of age, you sure as hell would not be the father of my baby. So put that "mommy" in your back pocket and save it for the girl you knock up in a couple years!
This is only the beginning. I don't even remember all of the strange things people say to me. Seriously, what is this?!
Even through triumphs and tribulations, life's all about the adventure! Welcome to my crazy life!
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Homeless Men and Rats
Sounds awesome right?! So I'm walking down Broadway to work, on the phone with my mom. When I get really into a conversation, I start talking with my hands. I mean like big, in your face, hand gestures. So, as I'm talking, I have my hand out to the side shaking it and apparently this homeless man took it as a sign that I wanted a high five. NO. No, I don't want a high five from you! It only freaked me out slightly. Now, on to the rat part of the story. It is completely separate but it's weird and fits with the weirdness of the homeless man high fiving me.
I have a huge fear of rats. And I'm not talking about your average, run of the mill, huge fear of rats. I'm talking can't even watch a rat on TV, live or cartoon, because I don't like them so much. As many of you know, the subway is full of rats. But, they stay on the tracks, a good 3 feet below me, and I just never look down so I never have to see them. Well, the other day I walk down the stairs to my train, and start walking down the platform to get to the spot where it will drop me closest to the stairs at my final stop. So, start walking and get about halfway there and what do I see? A rat. A rat on the platform! Just roaming around. I almost threw up. Literally. It was the grossest thing I have ever seen in my life and I'm about to throw up just thinking about it again. Eww. And to top it all off, my train wasn't scheduled to come for another 4 minutes. What was I going to do? There was no way I was going to stand on that platform with that stupid, ugly, diseased rat. So, I ran down the platform to the bench. I took a seat, pulled my feet up off the ground, and sat there, paranoid, until my train came. In which case, I ran onto the train to get away from that thing as fast as possible.
I have a huge fear of rats. And I'm not talking about your average, run of the mill, huge fear of rats. I'm talking can't even watch a rat on TV, live or cartoon, because I don't like them so much. As many of you know, the subway is full of rats. But, they stay on the tracks, a good 3 feet below me, and I just never look down so I never have to see them. Well, the other day I walk down the stairs to my train, and start walking down the platform to get to the spot where it will drop me closest to the stairs at my final stop. So, start walking and get about halfway there and what do I see? A rat. A rat on the platform! Just roaming around. I almost threw up. Literally. It was the grossest thing I have ever seen in my life and I'm about to throw up just thinking about it again. Eww. And to top it all off, my train wasn't scheduled to come for another 4 minutes. What was I going to do? There was no way I was going to stand on that platform with that stupid, ugly, diseased rat. So, I ran down the platform to the bench. I took a seat, pulled my feet up off the ground, and sat there, paranoid, until my train came. In which case, I ran onto the train to get away from that thing as fast as possible.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Laundry Day.
Thankfully, we live right next door to a laundry mat. This means to do laundry, I all I have to do is walk down the stairs. If you don’t know, laundry mats only take quarters, and the quarter machine only takes 5’s, 10’s, and 20’s. Obviously I don’t have any of those, because I never carry cash. So I walk to the CVS at the corner and buy two little things of Skinny Cow Ice Cream because it’s delicious and get $10 back. I get home, grab my laundry, and walk downstairs with Whitney. We don’t bring jackets because all we are doing is walking right back upstairs. We are both sporting leggings, t-shirts, and UGGs. We get downstairs and the coin machine is broken. Obviously. Why would it be working? With no clean clothes, laundry had to be done. So, instead of walking back upstairs to get coats, we head down the street to beg for change. Picking the cheapest looking places we can find, we begin our hunt. With $20 in change needed, this was bound to be interesting. Into the first place we go. I ask first. “Sir, is there anyway I can have $10 in quarters?” “No but how about $5?” “Great.” I get my $5 in quarters and my $5 and head out. There was no such luck for Whitney there. Into the next cheap looking deli. Whitney asks for $5 and the guy offers $2. Okay well it’s a start. Cheap deli number 3. I score my remaining $5. Next door is this run down cheap bakery with only mediocre chocolate chip cookies. Whitney scores another $2. At least now, she can do a load of laundry. She can’t dry it, but still. An unlikely place, we go to Duane Reid (it’s like Walgreens or CVS, but not as good.) Amazingly, Whitney scores $3. This was definitely a shot in the dark. But it worked. Thirty minutes later and numb, we finally start laundry and now I have clean clothes. Delightful.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Dear Traveling, You Suck.
I don’t know if I should take this as a sign or something. But all I know is my original flight to New York back at the end of February was delayed 3 hours out of Jacksonville. My flight to New York the other day was delayed 3 hours out of Tallahassee. I mean seriously what is this? If I didn’t know any better, I would think that Rob was calling the airlines and telling them to delay my flights on purpose to get me to stay. Well this time it almost worked. Airlines, get your act together because I am thoroughly annoyed. I do not want to fly into LaGuardia. I would like to fly into JFK and not land at midnight. LaGuardia does not have an AirTrain to get me to the subway like JFK does. And I have no desire to take a bus to get to the subway. I now have to pay for a cab since that is the only reasonable option to get to the city from LaGuardia and I am not happy about it. I had planned to use that $50 on something much better. Like the new Benefit moisturizer and under eye cream that just came out. You know, the new one that is supposed to completely eliminate my dark under eye circles making it look like I sleep when I don’t and the moisturizer that is supposed to give me that natural glow all the time making me look refreshed and hydrated when I’m not. I do believe Delta should pay for my cab due to the inconvenience or at least buy my new moisturizer since flying will only add to the fact that my skin is not refreshed and hydrated looking. One man was so flaming mad too. Seriously. His face was actually flaming red he was so upset. Apparently he had been trying to get out since yesterday, so I kinda understand. But still. Take a chill pill, have a drink, and a shot and calm down! There is clearly nothing you can do, and if you have a problem there is no need to yell very loudly at the gate agent and slam your fist on the counter like a 5 year old when clearly there is nothing she can do to fix the problem because obviously she is just the gate agent. That man walked away. Finally. On the plane, I find that my flight attendant’s name is Starla. It made me think of Sweet Home Alabama even though that woman’s name is Stella. It’s still very similar and Starla totally sounds like a name that you would hear in Sweet Home Alabama. So, instantly I started quoting it in my head, because if I said it out loud people would look at me like I’m crazy (since they don’t already). My thoughts of quotes was rudely interrupted when Starla came on and told me that we were delayed another 10 minutes. Cool. Thanks Starla. But she did run a glass of water to me right as they were starting the engines and moving down the runway. She totally made it to me and back to her seat without spilling a drip of my water, so naturally I think she is the best fight attendant ever and if I could pick my flight attendant like I can pick my seat, I would pick her. Plus she has a little sarcasm to her, which I like as well. By this point I am also incredibly hungry because I sat at the airport for 3 hours and didn’t leave because the other gate agent told me that was the worst idea I had all day and incase you didn’t know, there is no food in the Tallahassee airport. My stomach is now grumbling louder than the plane engine. Oh and don’t let me forget to add that now my flight to New York is delayed till 8:30. Oh and I can’t get on the earlier one because of my checked bag because if I do, they won’t bring my bag to me. I would have to go back to LaGuardia to get it. So let’s sum this up. It’s 7:38. I’m tired. I need a drink. I don’t land till 11. I won’t get home till 12:30 at the earliest. I have to be up at 7. And I miss Rob. Officially this day sucks.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Planes, Trains, and Cars…Literally.
That’s what it took. I wake up at 4:30 am. Leave my apartment at 5:30 am. Walk to the 6, take the 6 to 51st, transfer to the E at 53rd, ride the E for 45 minutes to the JFK AirTrain, take the JFK AirTrain to Terminal 3, board a 2 hour flight to Atlanta, sit in the Atlanta airport for 3 hours (yes, I was delayed twice and the earlier flight got cancelled), take a 1 hour flight to Tallahassee, hop in a cab to campus, and finally get driven home by Rob. Twelve hours later, two planes, three trains, a cab, and a truck and I’m here. So here is what I encountered on my journey.
So, I board my flight at JFK and I’m sitting in my seat minding my own business, and this woman yells, “Do you want to sit there?” Naturally since this woman is yelling I turn to look at her not thinking she’s talking to me. She say’s it again. “Do you want to sit there?” Looking straight at me, I finally figure out she is talking to me. I stare at her dumbfounded because obviously I want to sit there. It’s my seat. My assigned seat. And no, I do not plan on giving it to you. It’s an aisle. Since I’m not saying anything to her, she yells once again, “Fine, you can sit there, what’s your seat number?”
Me: “19D” (By the way, I was sitting in 19D at the time this conversation is taking place.)
Woman: “That’s my seat, but I’ll give it to you.”
Me (showing my boarding pass): “I’m sorry, but my boarding pass says 19D”
Woman (now looking at her boarding pass): “Oh. Well I suppose I’ll sit over here in 19A then”
Exactly. My guess is 19A was her actual seat and she was either (A) trying to scam me out of my aisle seat because aisle rock or (B) forgot her glasses at home and her husband was too embarrassed by her yelling to correct her. Dear people of the world, please read your boarding pass before unnecessarily yelling way too loud for 7 am at the girl trying to sleep for sitting in the correct seat.
Here is another lovely letter I have composed to travelers in Atlanta.
Dear People in the Atlanta Airport,
Escalators are made wide enough for two people side by side. This is not for you to hold your girlfriends hand and kiss her while riding up. This is not so more people can fit on the escalator. This is not for you to stand beside your buddy and have a conversation about basketball. This is for travelers who do not like to stand on escalators. For the people who like to walk up. They are made wide so that people who are standing, stand on the one side while people who are walking, walk up the other. It’s simple. Plus it’s highly inconvenient when you are running to catch an earlier flight and people are too lazy to move over five steps to let you by.
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