zonkered.net

Dear New Yorkers and New Jerseians traversing the streets of Manhattan,

It’s pouring down rain today. As it is late fall/early winter in New York City, this isn’t exactly a rare occasion. It rains in New York for three-quarters of the year, and the months of November and December tend to be more water-logged than most. One would think that would mean we’d all be experts at traversing the streets in downpours by now. One would be wrong, clearly, so here are some tips and tricks for not pissing the soaked girl in the purple wool coat off to the homicidal point.

1. A fallen umbrella is not a car accident. It does not require slowing down, it does not require rubber-necking, and it definitely doesn’t require both of those things at 8:40 am when two trains have just emptied out at the World Trade Center site. Move. Walk. Please.
2. Golf umbrellas are great for when you’re sheltering several people in an open air space like, say, a golf course. Golf umbrellas are horrible for when you’re using it solo in an extremely densely populated area. Get a smaller umbrella for the commute, all of you. The head you keep ramming into thanks you.
3. The usage of an umbrella of any size increases your space requirements. Keep this in mind, and other pedestrians’ hair won’t get caught on your umbrella, thus making you both late for work.

This public service announcement is brought to you by the fact that I’ve been at work for two and a half hours, and my feet are still wet.

My mixer shorted out this week, and as I was making myself blueberry torte for Thanksgiving (and turkey cutlets and green bean casserole, but dessert is really the only thing that matters) I went to Crate & Barrel on 59th St and bought a new one.

In between the 59th St station and Crate & Barrel is Bloomingdales and two blocks of retail stores, all choked with after work Christmas crowds.  I thought I was going to kill people, and by the time I got home there was no way in hell I was going to make the torte that night; I got up and made it in the morning instead, and I decided I was going to do as much of my Christmas shopping online as possible this year.  Since I spent Thanksgiving alone in my apartment (cue teeny tiny violin music), I started mine yesterday while sitting on my bed eating the aforementioned torte.  And it feels awesome to not only have to fight through the crowds but to have it shipped straight to my parents’ house so I don’t have to worry about it.

I was in SoHo yesterday to get my hair cut, and I was a little early so I wandered a block over to Whole Foods to look around.  And yikes.

I mean, I hate chopping onions with every fiber of my being, but I’m not going pay $4 a pound for pre-chopped onions.  And $5? For dried pasta? Are they serious?  $8 a pound for ground beef?  I haven’t had so much sticker shock in a grocery store since I initially moved to the east coast.

All in all, even though commuting sucks, it made me glad that I choose to live in the suburbs.  Jersey City is less exciting than New York to be sure, but my rent is much lower and my grocery bill at Shop Rite is a lot smaller than it would be if I had to shop at Whole Foods instead.

I’ll be making bolognese sauce today.  If I’d gotten the ingredients at Whole Foods, I would have spent enough that I might as well have just gone out and ordered spaghetti bolognese at a restaurant.

Realizing that the reason the creepy old dudes on the subway have been hitting on you for the fifteen minute ride from lower Manhattan to Midtown is because the top button on your shirt has come undone. Again. And your bra is on display. Again.

Good times.

In other news, I still don’t have phone or internet in my new apartment. I’ve been going to bed early a lot.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.  “Pioneers in spirit, they dress the part, strolling in prairie skirts and toting their infants in slings. Others tend bar at the local saloons wearing jeans and bright kerchiefs.”  It’s BROOKLYN, not the Oregon Trail.

My tolerance level for ironic hipsters continues to sink.