A very small child in a stroller is licking the inside of his own tiny leather bomber jacket.
Now I'm thinking about how awesome strollers are for their passengers. They're like little RVs that you don't even have to drive. Er, I guess mixed with mobile zoo cages that you can't escape. Maybe less awesome.
Just passed a woman on her hands and knees, bowing with her head to the ground in the middle of the sidewalk, when it feels like about 20 degrees outside. The crazy part is, after living in Hong Kong, I didn't actually realize this was weird until I saw someone pointing. What is weird, especially in a place like New York, where anything is everyday?
I love that Trader Joe's manages to find the only genuinely friendly people in NY to be their cashiers. I always leave the store feeling a bit more cheerful than when I went in (plus I have delicious and interesting food).
My cashier today kept me there for like five minutes talking, when I only bought three things. We know all about each other now, and he even recommended some particularly relevant articles for me. Last time I was at Trader Joe's, I actually exchanged numbers with the cashier.
Only sad bit of my TJ's experience: the super tall cutie who I asked to get me some roasted garlic sauce off the top shelf was wearing a wedding ring. The sad part about this was that I noticed.
I can't stop eating my feelings in chocolate-covered peanuts and Goldfish. I'm thinking about flushing them, but that might bring up bad memories of the time Gillian P. accidentally killed my turtle's feeder fish. I think it's illegal to throw Goldfish out the window in New York (though this is Harlem, land of defenestration), but I might have gotten that idea from The Princess Diaries. Who knows.
One thing that really sucks about the train (and public transpo in general) is that you can't have a proper cry on it. Driving down sububian Ohio roads on a winter's night with the windows cracked and Rock 107 blasting is the perfect time for a blinding, heart-wrenching sob, but it's much less satisfying on the uptown 1 train. You're missing the thrilling possibility that the next particularly emphatic, eyes-closed wail might send you tumbling off the road; also, the crazies keep poking you and saying, "What's wrong with you, White Girl? I ain't eaten for three days. Whatchu got to cry about?"
As usual, apologies for my long absence. I may some day soon tell you about what I've been up to (it's actually been quite exciting and possibly much more interesting than your life), but knowing me, I probably won't. As I like to say (starting, er, now), I want to live my life, not relive it.
My friend has just told me about her OKCupid date today. The guy is in an open marriage, which was her motivation for meeting up with him. She "thought it was interesting." Apparently one of the guy's recent shared girlfriends broke up with him but not his wife, which I would think would be a little awkward (in the best way). We were wondering how that conversation goes and who told who what. "Um, honey, Susie broke up with me last night." "Oh really? Because we had a damn good time this afternoon on the couch you're sitting on."
