rachelpink rides the bus

The Hellmouth on 34th St.

First, I am no longer allowed to take more than 5 days off work unless I have a well-thought out plan for amusing myself. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I am going f-ing MAD. This state of aimlessness? I'm not wired for it. Worse yet, I've been spending way way way too much time on Facebook and email and online. I swear it is turning my brain to mushy peas. And it's been a month since I read a book!

Let me tell you, things were going along all super fabulous until work got slow, I went on vacation, fell into a (temporary) state of $ brokeness and started this internet dating shizzit. It's the perfect storm of bad.

And you know what? I need to snap the fuck out of it. I have a book coming out this year! It's almost my birthday! I have dates with boys lined up that are written into my schedule (in pencil--but still!!). And I'm going to start taking drum lessons! This life of mine is charmed, I say.

But I seriously digress.

So despite all efforts, I'm out of sorts right now and not myself--and the cure for that is being around other people. Today I saw an old high school friend and her husband for a few hours and it was great. And after that, the plan was to meet Meg and company at Mooncake followed by a showing of Benjamin Button.

In order to get to Meg and dinner and the movie I needed to deal with the hellmouth, my new Buffy-inspired name for the stretch of 34th St. from the N train entrance to 8th Ave. When I was commuting in from Long Island so many years ago, I always walked along 32nd through Koreatown. It was harried, but so much better than taking 34th.

And yeah, of course I should know better than to take the exit that spills out next to two major tourist attractions, but I feel creeped out using the stairs near the Manhattan Mall. That's its own sub-hellmouth.

Today when I emerged, I swear it was even worse than usual. A family stopped dead atop the stairs. A crowd of teenage tourists elbowed past me with serious speed and violence. I jaywalked myself across the street to avoid it all, only to be met with the zombie-like throngs milling outside Macy's. Loaded down with bags and bags and bags but no real sense of purpose, they would shuffle and stop. Shuffle and stop. I felt like a hapless contestant on some terrible hidden-camera game show. It was so stressful I stopped dead on the street mid block(standing flush against a wall like a good pedestrian), fished my iPod out of my bag, and tuned in The White Stripes as loud as my little piddly mini would let me go. Now at least I had a soundtrack for the rest of the gauntlet. Following the beat I picked up my pace. Speed would save the day. I took the sidewalk like an obstacle course and made it swiftly to 7th Ave.--and after a small hiccup at the walk sign thanks to some awestruck tourists walking 6 abreast and wearing sweats emblazoned with "NYC" in glitter on their collective asses, I made it. Alive. No injuries. Dignity intact (which is more than I can say for the day as a whole).

I hate to be an angry New Yorker. I hate to disparage the tourists who are trying to enjoy their vacations and pumo their $$ into my city's economy. But for Christmas sake, it's also my home. And I just wanted to get some dinner and catch a movie. . . So yeah, I think I'll start walking over from 23rd St. or braving the creepy tunnel to 6th Avenue because baby just can't do it again anytime soon.

Animal Crackers

The shelter made me a little bonkers today.

My volunteers rock. The shelter volunteers? A little challenging.

There was so much to get done. They have tons and tons of animals. Animals everywhere. Puppies. Bunnies. Kittens. Cats. Dogs. Everywhere you look there's a full cage of something with four legs.

I left at 1 with lots left undone. I hate to do that but I was getting cranky and the remaining volunteers were moving at half speed. I was so dirty, I turned my sweater inside out. Then I came home and took a hot shower followed by a well-earned nap. I love naps.

Anyway, the shelter is at capacity and then some right now. Lots of animals. Lots of stuff. Not enough staff or volunteers. SO--to my NYC friends--if you're willing, I'm hoping to pull together a cleaning crew on January 10th for a few hours who can help do some cleaning and sorting at the shelter with me. A few hours with a crowd of people will make a huge difference. It's less about the cages, and more about getting the whole place to look pretty again. Pretty enough. Oh, and you'll get to play with kitties and puppies. And see me.

Drop me a line if you're in. You know you want to do it.

I Scare Hobos

Heading home from Vince and Lisa's (site of major fun, Rock Band, and all-around good times) I had a memorable encounter with a fellow begging for change.

I watched him make his way, slowly and with great creepiness, toward my end of the train. As we pulled into Queens Plaza he finally reached me. He stopped right in front of me and stared at my chest. He had a bible in his flailing hand and shook a battered brown lunch sack filled with change. I was a little nervous because he stared and stared at me. Finally I realized that he was trying to read a pin on my jacket. He gestured at it and half-yelled, "What does it say?"
"Um, it says: Sometimes I worry about zombies."

He looked at me, shook his head in disgust, then walked away without asking anyone else for change.

Zombies do the trick every time.

Reasons I Love New York Today

It's fun to talk to strangers, to see strangers, and to be a stranger. I had a great little conversation on the train home last night about Tampa, the city, and the spirit of Christmas with a man on the 7 train.

Hot bagels. No explanation necessary.

Foot power. I haven't had a pedicure in six months, so I decided to use some of my mom Xmas money and splurge. I only had to walk half a block to get to Hannah and Her Sisters. Now I have relaxed feet and purple toes. I walked another few feet and picked up hair dye and cat food. Done. No car. Shazaam.

My neighborhood. It's a real neighborhood and I actually missed some of these folks while I was away. Especially my favorite fellas, the guys who run the falafel cart on 30th St.

Amuse Me, Pretty Please

OK, I'm back. Now what?

It feels like the past three months I've been planning for Christmas, and now it's done. But I have a whole extra week of vacation to go!

Tomorrow, Rock Band with the V's and the C's.

Sunday, shelter fun with kittens and boxer puppies.

Dinner on New Year's Day with the fam on LI.

But what to do with all the other days?! Fun stuff, fun stuff, fun stuff!! Are there good movies playing? I don't even know. Which folks are back from Christmas next week? What should I do on New Year's? I've got a party I could go too, but the party is in Park Slope (and it takes nine million years to get there and back from Astoria). There's a Cincy night on Monday, I think.

The alternative? Spend hours trolling the interwebs or watching reruns of Law and Order? Not acceptable.

My Lil' Clone Trooper

I'm a lot bummed that I didn't get to introduce the young ones to Star Wars. . . but I did catch Delaney wearing the clone trooper mask I brought back from Comic-Con this year.

Donovan rocks, plain and simple. Last night Delaney conked out early, so we had a few hours by ourselves to act goofy. We put together a microscope. We talked. We cracked ourselves up. That kid is a good egg.

As usual, he asked me hard questions. First up? Where do babies come from?

Me: A catalog. Baby catalog. Mom picks one out. . .

Donovan: Seriously!

Me: Um, um, huh? Do you save these questions up for me?

Donovan: I think I know. The mom and date mate. . . and then they have a baby.

Me: Not bad, that's about right.

Donovan: I can't wait to have a baby. I'm going to have THIRTEEN babies.

Me: No! Why!

Donovan: So I can mate 13 times. You know, you should have a baby so you can get to mate.

I changed the subject so fast, it made his head spin.

Other questions on the table last night: When did dad get leg hair? When did Uncle Kevin get leg hair? How do you know if you're going to be bald? Is it OK to have warts on your butt? How many girlfriends can you have at one time? Why is pee yellow? Where does it come from? How many licks to get  to the center of Tootsie Pop (er, OK, I made that one up)?

I hope I gave good answers.

When we were done with the Q+A portion of the evening, we played with Donovan's new microscope. He found a leaf on his floor and stuck that under the lens. . . and in an homage to The Simpsons, I pretended to see a world of little people who worshipped him :)

Here are some pics from my Christmas week in Florida with the munchkins. . . I'm headed home to NYC tomorrow. BUT, I'm off from work for another week!

Weird Dreams

I arrived in Tampa on Thursday, and I've had weird weird dreams every night.

This could be due to:

1. The nasty stomach bug I've had since Friday
2. Donovan's habit of sleeping with the TV on all night
3. Donovan's terrible taste in late night TV

Last night's dream involved a local wrestling match, a blind date that went awry, and  a game show where I had to show kids how to make minestrone while driving a bus?? Worse yet, my red tights didn't match my blue shirt. Panic!!

The night before I was dreaming of a third-world country. I was a teacher there, but also a book publicist. I had a new boyfriend who was just a head and no body. In order for us to go swimming, I needed to buy him an inflatable whale toy from the pool supply store so I could stick it to his head. Oh, and then we were in New Orleans. One day, he came to my office and kissed me in front of everyone. I was immediately called into my boss's office and chastized for it. An hour later I followed him into an open air market where he killed his ex-wife with a giant samurai sword. He went to jail. I went and bought a coke, a hot pretzel, and a yard of fabric.

Isn't my head supposed to be filled with visions of sugarplums????

Another Semi-Homemade Present

I love it when ideas come together.

A few weeks back I popped into a dollar store in search of holiday garland. It was a newish store and some thought had been put into merchandising--a pleasant surprise. It was here amidst the Engrish-dotted notebooks that I found the little blank notepads I hand-stamped for the cookie party goody bags. It was also here that I hatched a plan for a Delaney present. I noticed lots of little generic receipt books and finance logs and other assorted office supply stuff. Now little Rachel LOVED that sort of thing. One summer my dad brought home several abandoned Fotomat booths and plopped them down in the back yard. The thrill of playing in the booths, resplendent with shattered glass and notched up wood, faded fast. The thrill of playing with the Fotomat order forms lasted for years.

So I set out to assemble the fixings for a store for Delaney. Vince helped me out by designing a really amazing little sign in no time flat. I picked up around five bucks of assorted forms and memo pads and other random work-world ephemera. I printed out some really simple labels with Delaney's name that she can stick onto everything (sorry, Glor). And viola! Store in a box. I think she's going to dig it, though I know that I'll need to explain it.

Donovan has a personalized pre-Xmas surprise. We're making a web tv show called The Crafty Kid. . . and Vince designed a neat little design for the title screen. It's going to rock. God, I have so much to do with the kids:
1. Introduce them to Star Wars
2. Tea party with REAL tea
3. Make pizza
4. Work on happy book stuff
5. General fun
6. Walk the dog