The Good, the Bad, and the Beautiful

The Good - Sometimes people enter our lives without us even realizing the impact they have on us. Yesterday, I realized who one of those people has been for me. He is an older man who begs for money on the N train, though he takes a completely different tactic than anybody else I've ever seen. He enters your car with a huge smile on his face, holding dollar bills that others have given him with the one finger remaining on his left hand or the three fingers remaining on his right hand. He smiles and speaks to you as if you were a coworker in his office: Beautiful day out, how are things going, and so on. He says, "If you can give money I'd appreciate it, if you can't just give me a smile." Then he goes about getting every single person on the train to smile through silly jokes or compliments or gentle cajoling. I've often seen an entire car-load of people sharing laughter by the time we get to the next stop and he leaves to go to another traincar. Whenever he's been on the train I have experienced momentary community with the strangers seated around me. Next time I'll have to tell him thank you.

The Bad - Friday night I got a phone call from a friend who just ended chemotherapy treatment about two months ago. Her cancer is back already, and I was shocked by the realization that cancer that has come back is far more scary than cancer for the first time. I'm mostly over the shock now and getting back into my usual take-it-day-by-day mode. Tomorrow, she'll actually be here, and I'm looking forward to doing some sight-seeing and general catching-up.

The Beautiful - A strange turn of topics, I know, but I'd like to mention Oprah. I have a love-hate relationship with Oprah which has just swung back over to the love side of the spectrum. If you did not catch her Green episode on Friday, you definitely need to visit the website. She discussed the small habits you can change to do your part to protect our beautiful earth. I grew up in a home where we were instilled with a deep love of nature, but it has only been in the past few years that I have become more cognizant of the daily things I do that should be improved to show a little more respect for nature. I've made a few goals for myself, and would encourage you to do the same. We should all make an Earth Day's Resolution...and keep it.

My Favorite Thing My Roommate Ever Said About Me

"Although Sam would rather I not say anything about this, she and I have been known to crash weddings and make ourselves known as the crazy dancers. And, we don't even have a real routine worked out yet....She is the real deal and she is from the south!"

Oh, she knows me too well.

My Favorite Day of the Week

Wednesday I arrived in class to find that it was cancelled and I did NOT have to stay on campus till 9:00 at night. Thursday I had a fantastic three-hour conversation with my man. Friday I had a ladies' night with a bunch of friends at our favorite bar. Saturday I went on an amazing scavenger hunt called Murder at the Met.

Yet it is Sunday that is my favorite day. Without fail, it's just the greatest. The whole day has its own leisurely feel that I can never get enough of. I'm feeling pleasantly tired from a three-hour soccer practice. I'm laying on the couch, writing and listening to music, occasionally trading stories with my roommate. In about an hour I will be leaving for a dinner party, where I will get to introduce my roommate to some of my favorite colleagues.

Time seems to have its own pace on Sundays, and I feel like we're not leaving for hours. I'm moving slowly and loving it.

Weekend by Numbers

1) I've just started a new service learning project with my students about child labor. We watched a video about Iqbal Masih, an amazing child whose life ended far too soon. My students were appalled by the story and have responded in a way that has resulted in the most exciting phase of my teaching experience thus far. While discussing the project with a friend on the way to soccer practice, I learned that she has travelled to many developing countries and seen child labor firsthand though her focus as been more on women's issues. She described to me helping women in India attain small business loans, travelling through Africa to assist with health education, and much more. I find myself feeling fortunate once more to have found friends with such a depth of experiences. They open up my world in incredible ways, and show me opportunities and possibilities outside of my very focused daily life.

2) Yesterday an old college friend called me out of the blue. Neither one of us could remember the last time we spoke, but it was no matter. We talked as if we had just spoken yesterday. I am excited about the events taking place in both of our lives, and amazed at how strong connections can remain, even when so many miles are between us. Just like my friend described above, this friend has inspired me in countless ways.

3) A little less inspirational, but nonetheless extremely important: Dancing. Saturday night was a birthday celebration of a close friend of mine at the Copacabana. Before leaving, I was tired and actually not looking forward to leaving my house in the rain. The party started at 11:00, and I felt ready to go to bed about three hours earlier. However, once we got there, I had a blast. I usually hate going out to clubs, but a night dancing with the girls has left me on high for the rest of the weekend.

4) Today I wanted to blog, but couldn't choose one focus. I asked myself, "Can you really mention the shocking story of Iqbal Masih with the lightheartedness of dancing to hip hop?" Reading back over it, I'm still hesitant. But I think that the blog is supposed to be representative of my life in general, and this is it: a strange balance between working on a huge project with my students educating other about child labor, reading the amazing book about Ward 57 in Blood Brothers by Michael Weisskopf, going out dancing, playing soccer, watching bad tv shows on E!, trying to make the perfect guacamole, going through old photos my mom sent me, and all the other daily activities of varying levels of importance. The things on my mind don't follow the same arc, and they don't have. So for today, I'm abandoning the theme for the blog entry. I hope you can forgive me...

Conversation with Roommate

Me: I just e-mailed you something. (Referring to an article about the zeitgeist rating of the city she'll be moving to in a few months.)

Roommate: Is it about the Dog Whisperer? Do you hate the Dog Whisperer? Because if you do, well, even though I sometimes think he's more dog than whisperer, I still love him.

Why would I need overheardinnewyork, when overheardinmyownapartment is so damn funny all the time?

Wasting Time

Today I went on a website that compares the contours of your face to hundreds of celebrities and then tells you which celebrity you look the most like. It told me that I look like Mariah Carey, which sort of pissed me off at first. Then I remembered that the only reason I went on the website was because it said my friend Jarrett looks just like Eleanor Roosevelt.

Anyhow, anyone can take one look at me and recognize that I look nothing like Mariah. So I scanned in two other pictures and was told what I believe to be the ultimate truth: that I don't look like any celebrities. Now that I have found that great informational jem, I will be going to bed now after five days of serious sleep deprivation...gotta love your Eleanor-Roosevelt-lookalike-houseguests who keep you out to all hours of the morning...

Great Moments

Today, as we left our Monday evening graduate class for the last time this semester, my roommate "danced it out" for the full length of the hallway. We're talking about fifty yards of hand motions, booty-shaking, and sound effects. And even though she made fun of my expression of how happy I felt in my winter coat, I still love her for her silly dancing.

Be Mischievous.

I'm on my lunchbreak, taking a little respite from my day of IEP-writing every spare second. After scarfing down my sandwich and strawberry yogurt, I treat myself to a few of the Dove chocolates my mom sent with my birthday present. Each chocolate has a special message on the inside of the wrapper. I barely glanced at the wise words of "Make a list of your dreams," "Discover yourself," and "Dare to love completely." However, like a teenager who can apply her YM horoscope to her personal life every single month, I felt certain that this package and this particular chocolate was sent to me with some divine purpose: "Be mischievous. It feels good."

Yesterday, I was riding the train in my typical fashion, so engrossed in my book I was unaware of anything around me, including the coworker who had gotten on the train three stops earlier. He scared me half to death by grabbing my book. It is now an official joke around the school, as I have been greeted several times with "How's the G train book club going?"

A friend was talking to me about how to get him back. She, a pro at being miscievous, has several ideas for what to do. Maybe Dove can inspire me add a little mischief to my life...as soon as I finish these IEPs.

Movies and Bocce

Yesterday I found myself with quite a bit of free time between doing research for school and meeting a friend, so I did something I haven't done in ages: I took myself to a movie.

I went to see The Last Kiss. I bought my ticket, decided against the oh-so American coke and popcorn (having just recovered from some crazy virus) and took my seat. I knew as soon as the previews came on that I had made the right choice. I love books and movies, and even movie previews for the exact same reason, I get to be transported to another world for minutes, hours, or even days if the book is a long one.

So I was actually a little disappointed by the movie when instead of transporting me to another world, it kept me right in my current one. No, I'm not pregnant or experiencing some sort of life crisis associated with an impending birthday...but the characters were not unlike many of the people I know. They made painfully unheroic decisions, they often did just what I might have done in the same situation, and there were no surprises.

When telling my friend about it later, I struggled to explain. The story was fine, I liked that it didn't tie up all loose ends, the acting was good...so why is it that I was somewhat disappointed? Am I so conditioned to happy endings, to feeling uplifted as the credits roll, to walking out of the theater with a renewed faith in humanity? Is that what movies are for?

It wasn't the worst $10.50 I've spent, and I didn't regret it, but things definitely got better when I met three friends at one of our favorite bars in Brooklyn. Complete with an outdoor garden,a basement music venue, book-lined walls, quirky food, and bocce ball, really who could ask for anything more?

After waiting an hour, we finally have our turn to bocce. (I have no idea if this is a verb.) We're playing, and I have just finished my turn when I hear, "Boo, you suck!" I look up to see none other than an old roommate who I haven't seen in two years. I almost didn't hug him hello after he publicly heckled me, but I quickly forgave and we spent some time catching up. Meanwhile, my friends finished the bocce ball game without me, and just to clear my name after the heckling, I should mention that my team was up 10-4 when I left and lost 11-15 once I was gone...

Okay, so there's my ramble. From mediocre movie experiences to a wonderful feeling of being right at home surrounded by food, competition, and friends. I've been pretty out of it recently, but hopefully I'll return to my typical blogging craziness, in much shorter doses...

Fear Factor NYC Style

A dear friend of mine just called me in a state of panic that I have never heard in her. She recently moved into a one-bedroom apartment "with character," meaning it's old and beautiful but needs some work. However, when she called me she was not in the apartment. She made me promise not to make fun of her before admitting that she was pacing on the street in front of her building, freaking out over a roach-sighting in her bathroom.

"I just grabbed my wallet and my phone and ran out the door. I don't even think I have my keys. Tell me what to do. Tell me what I can do RIGHT NOW!!"

I'm cracking up while also sympathizing, since it was around this time last year that I had my own roach problems. After a little coaxing, she went across the street to a store to buy Raid. After a lot more coaxing she made her way back into the house, demanding that I not get off the phone with her until she was ready. I never imagined this friend to be one who screamed, squealed, and repeated "omigosh" over and over in a high-pitched whisper. In fact, as she entered her apartment, she whispered quite a bit. I asked, "Are you trying to be quiet so you won't scare the roach away?", but she didn't even hear it over her fear.

She reminded me so much of those contestants on Fear Factor, nearly hyperventilating and trying to calm herself down with rational phrases that worked for all of three seconds before deteriorating into madness once more. When she went back into her bathroom, the roach was gone. She told me every step she was taking looking for it. "I'm moving my couch, I'm looking at the crack by the radiator, I'm looking by my books," then at the sound of my laughter, "Shut up, just shut the fuck up!"

Alas, the roach was never to be found. I laughed myself to tears in my safe apartment in Queens, while several miles away in Brooklyn my friend tried to get up the courage to take a shower. My friend, who has travelled all over the world, gone on lengthy backpacking trips, slept outside for days on end, and done many more things that most will never have the courage to do, has just been terrified by a roach with "the longest whiskers you've ever seen."

I will never let her live this down...

Learning New Things

It was a little over a year ago that I began my first blog with the following sentences:

My roommate has inspired me to recycle regularly, eat whole wheat english muffins instead of bagels for breakfast each morning, and now to start a blog. What do I have to say that is blogworthy? I'm not too sure, but here's what's on my mind today.

Who's to say if anything I've posted here is truly "blogworthy," but I definitely have had no shortage of things to say. And while I missed the official one year anniversary here on aisle life, I do feel like commemerating it in some way. I think the best way to do that would be to write about a huge improvement in my daily living that was also inspired by my roommate: reading on the toilet.

I'm sure that many of you are old hands at this, but it never crossed my mind to take a book or magazine into the bathroom. The first time I did this, I announced it to my roommate, who only smiled the proud smile of any teacher, then hunkered down to await further progress. It did not take long before I became an avid toilet reader.

Now we keep magazines on a shelf in the bathroom at all times, and I never hesitate to bring in a book. And after reading the essay "Chamber Plots" (which I actually read while sitting on the couch,) I also began thinking about our bathroom library. Did we have a good selection? I think I can say yes, though beyond our stacks of National Geographic, Dwell, Vogue, Elle, Lucky, and New York, there are only four little books, including Gutsy Women: Travel Tips and Wisdom for the Road. Really, what more could you want on a little trip to the bathroom?

Among the life lessons learned this year, many of which I have written about right here, the toilet reading might be one of the most important in that it's a little reminder to get over myself and just enjoy the moment.

Alas, sleep!

I have frequent periods in which I am unable to sleep. The past few days I've been lucky to get three hours, which makes me slightly crabby (to put it nicely,) prone to eye-rolling at strangers doing absurdly rude things, and uninterested in making conversation with others.

Which did not make yesterday the perfect day for me to volunteer to watch my friend's six month old for several hours after the regular babysitter had to back out at the last minute. Not only is he teething and running a fever, but I am not a baby person. He is really one of about three babies I have ever liked. In the middle of one small crisis, I called my grandmother for some quick advice. Her response was, "Who would let you watch their baby?" I thanked her for the vote of confidence and opted not to tell her that before calling her I had actually tried every tip she provided.

It was possibly the only time I have ever felt like Samantha from Sex and the City, as in the episode when she takes care of Miranda's baby. However, unlike Samantha I was not dressed nicely, my hair was not fixed, and by the time I returned the baby to my friend, I was a sweaty mess.

As I reread this, I'm realizing I sound more whiny than I actually feel. What I am really feeling is a sense of awe. I find it amazing that the human race procreates at all! I am impressed with my friend who is balancing single motherhood with working full time as a teacher and completing her Masters. As for me, I learned that not only are there no babies in my near future, but I am no longer above volunteering to babysit in order to cure any little bout with insomnia.

Stepping Up to the Plate

Today I took my second trip to Shea Stadium to watch the Mets beat the Reds 9-2. Some friends happened to have an extra ticket, so I joined them for cheering, hot dogs, and several rounds of The Wave.

It appears to have become common practice at stadiums everywhere for each player to choose a song to be blasted as they step up to the plate. I think this may be a tougher decision than choosing a college, breaking up with a significant other, or selecting investments. You have to choose the perfect crowd-pleasing song to inspire confidence, intimidate the other team, and give a little hint about your personality all in a ten second clip.

Which got my friends and I to thinking, what song would we choose? My friend the music teacher thought up several good ones, but I am still at a loss. This kind of decision would take me weeks. Another friend suggested that we choose songs for our entrance into the classroom. I wonder what my kids would do if "Stayin' Alive" or "Who Let the Dogs Out" started playing right before I entered the room. If you have any suggestions, please let me know...

Oh, and if there were any concerns, my newfound fandom has grown even more due to tonight's win, my friends' seemingly endless knowledge of the Mets, and the comradery created by being crammed on the 7 train with all my fellow Mets fans decked out in orange and blue.

Milestones and Mistakes

Today I spent some time in Central Park with two friends, one of which has a baby. While we were sitting on the blanket, participating in basic gossip and commenting on a group of the most amazing hula hoopers I've ever seen who were shaking their hips nearby, my friend's baby sucked his thumb for the first time. Last week, he discovered his feet, and now he spends much of his time grabbing on to them, which makes him look as though he is performing amazing yoga-esque feats.

I've never been much of a baby person. (This particular baby is actually the first baby I have ever liked, but he has opened the door for many more babies.) It is amazing how many little milestones there are in those first few months, and how exciting the achievement of these milestones are for the adults in that baby's life. I spent an inordinate amount of time exclaiming over his thumb-sucking, while his mom was calmly saying, "Now, I'm going to have to break him of that."

Later, his mom wanted to go shopping, so I told her that I would play with the baby while she tried on clothing. I sat down on a couch near the entrance of the store and cooed and kissed and made faces for quite a while. Three separate people came up and told me how beautiful my son was. (I only corrected two of them.) To me, this is a glaring mistake. How could anyone possibly believe that this child was actually mine? It's not that I'm not old enough, it's that I have no clue what I'm doing. But somehow, others look on and think it fits.

After several hours of baby-time while my friend took care of the many errands that can pile up on the single, working mother of a four-month-old, I got on the bus and made my way back home. I had a great time, but even with the thrice-made mistake, motherhood is one milestone I know I'm not quite ready for.

Whew!

I am dog-sitting for a couple of friends again. I absolutely love their dog, but last night he almost killed me. He had the worst gas you can possibly imagine. I am scared that even after a shower the stench is still clinging to me, which will just be fodder for the jokes of my ten year old students.

I told my roommate, "It was horrible. He just couldn't stop." She said, "Sam, he didn't want to stop. He's a dog."

She has a good point.

Good Prospects

I couldn't convince my roommate to stop dancing on one foot on the narrow strip of kitchen counter beside the sink. She claimed she was dancing on her good leg. And the drinking hasn't even begun yet. It's going to be an entertaining night.

Divorce, David Smith, and Dog-sitting

I've learned a few lessons over the past few days that I feel the need to share.

• Divorce: Friday night I went to a Divorce Party. Really, it was more like a shower. One of the men I work with is getting divorced and has moved into an apartment. He owns almost nothing right now, so we all got together and got him those much-needed items such as towels, cleaning supplies, and glassware. What I learned: In the midst of a sad event such as a divorce, it is surprisingly easy to bring people together and spread a little love.
• David Smith: Yesterday I went to the Guggenheim with my friend Paddy. I was excited to go because I loved it the last time I went, Paddy had never been, and Paddy is one of my favorite friends to go to museums with. The exhibit was for an artist named David Smith. I think this was the fastest either Paddy or myself had ever gone through a museum before. What I learned: I don't much care for abstract sculpture, and the bakery a few blocks away serves excellent cheesecake.
• Dog-sitting: Since Thursday night I have been crashing at my friends' house and taking care of their dog, Rudy. I have always loved dogs, so I was excited to pretend I had one for a few days. Being with Rudy has given me a new sense of my neighborhood. For example, I talked to many more people than I usually would on a ten-minute walk because they wanted to pet the dog or their dog knew Rudy. I also never realized how much trash there was laying around until Rudy tried to pick up every tissue, soda can, spit-out piece of gum, or unidentifiable disgusting object he came across. What I learned: I still love dogs but I don't want to own a dog in New York, which is perhaps the most valuable lesson of the past few days.

Behavior Modification at Home

My roommate and I both want to exercise more, so this weekend we created a chart to monitor our workout progress. Each week that we exercise four or more times, we get to go out with friends to a new restaurant. (Can you tell we're elementary school teachers?) Yesterday was the first day of our new little program. I didn't work out, and I don't think my roommate did, but I can't be sure because I went to bed at an absurdly early time that I am too embarrassed to actually post here.

Our poster is hanging up in the bathroom, and I started this morning with an empty box for Week One: Monday glaring at me. Fortunately, I have a run scheduled with a friend for this afternoon. Let's see if this plan of ours works...

And speaking of things that might not work, I'm not sure why the pictures in the previous post don't just show up. But if you click on the handy little boxes above and below the text, you can see pictures of our snow day.

In Snow and Playing

After being stuck inside during this record- setting blizzard (26.9 inches of snowfall to be exact) we decided it was time to get out. So we bundled up, and got ready to dig out cars and play a bit. There were a lot of people out and about, teenage boys making money by doing what they told me was the "back-breaking work of shoveling snow," and a group of kids playing football in the park. It was fun to gear up in the boots and pants my mom bought be last winter and be completely warm on such a cold, cold day. I heart winter.

I Thought I Loved Food...

Last night I ate my friend Claire's final project before graduation. It was unlike anything I have ever eaten before, which, I guess, is to be expected since she is graduating from the Natural Gourmet Cookery School. There were about one hundred guests who came to eat the vegan meal Claire and her teammates had created.

I have never been to a meal that was so personal. Claire and her teammates have been working on the concept for many weeks, creating decor, a menu, and each plate for their chosen theme of "Winter Revival: An Evening of Restoration and Renewal." The menu, which is by far the most beautiful menu I have ever seen, described the benefits of each of the foods we were eating. If you know me, you know that my stomach has rarely, if ever, been introduced to beets, black beans, most vegetables, or anything described as raw. These foods are never my first choice, but last night each dish was phenomenal.

And, fortunately for me, Claire's fiance Brad is just as dorky as I am, and we both felt perfectly comfortable taking pictures of each dish as it came out. My favorite is below:This is a root vegetable pave with spinach truffle creme fraiche, carrot ginger reduction, and baby arugula. This is also the part of the meal when I realized I give myself too much credit as a food lover. Brad was seated next to me, and described the process that Claire goes through to create a plate such as the one above, patiently trying different ingredients, combinations, and measurements. I love to eat, but have so little knowledge about what I am actually eating and its effects on my body or mood.

At the end of the night, Claire and her teammates came out for congratulations from the crowd, and a quick question and answer session. Again, it became clear that her imagination is made up of this mathematical creativity that results in these healthy, unique dishes that taste incredible. Her team won high praise from their teacher, who described it as one of the most "interesting and variable meals he had seen in a long time," and from Jenny Matthau, the Director and President of the school.

At the end of the night, I actually did feel renewed. It's so rare to have a meal that is an experience such as this one. It has inspired me to learn more, and nothing can be better than that...except for maybe another serving of the toasted walnut and black bean puree with Hijiki rice crisps.