Monthly Archives: September 2010

From Hero to Zero

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Today, with a little guidance from my dear friend/bitter archrival Jeff, I added this superhot navigation bar to the right side of my blog that shows a sampling (but not the entirety of, which is hilarious) my other blogs. Another incarnation of the bar had been hanging out at the top of my blog, and I hated it so much, so fixing it basically means I don’t have to ever do anything else worthwhile in my life, and I can still feel like a pretty accomplished person.

However, shortly thereafter, I got an e-mail from a woman at, a company that sells NYC sightseeing vacation packages. She contacted me yesterday about participating in and blogging about their Ground Zero and Statue of Liberty Walking Tour, which includes a trip inside the Statue itself. I haven’t been to Liberty Island in probably six years and have never been up inside the Lady, so I was pumped to write back and enthusiastically accept.

The woman responded to my acceptance with something along the lines of, “If anyone will do this tour justice textually and photographically, it is you and your brilliant, brilliant blog.” Something like that, I swear.

But then she also added, “Oh, by the way! On your website, your email is listed with a typo as”

That’s right. I spelled my own name wrong. Not so accomplished, are we now, English major?

The Grand Canyon is Kind of Freakishly Beautiful

Filed under stuff i like, travels
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When we weren’t going to Disney World, my family always took weird vacations to places like Missouri and Iowa to check out the birthplaces of literary figures. As soon as I got to college, I started road-tripping to places like South Carolina and Georgia for my spring breaks. The most West Coast I’d ever gotten was a trip to Idaho with my roommate my senior year of college, and even that involved lots of greenery and snow. I never understood the point of visiting the desert and never had any desire whatsoever–I mean whatsoever–to see the Grand Canyon.

And then we flew over it on our way to California.

Grand Canyon
Don’t ask me what’s going on out in the desert to make this bright orange.

Grand Canyon

Grand Canyon

Not so bad, is it?

When the President Comes to Town

Filed under living in new york sucks so hard, politicking
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I think that when I lived in Ohio, I was neutral-to-positive about the United Nations. I actually remember defending it to someone–my dad?–saying that even though it allows itself to be basically powerless and just for show, it’s a good idea at its core.

But now that I’m dating someone who lives literally steps from the UN headquarters, I understand that it was created entirely to take pity on people from lesser countries, give them good parking spots for their giant gas-guzzlers, and allow them a place to prance around in the ridiculous costumes of their homelands.

That’s right. The UN General Assembly meeting made me a jingoist.

It was all just so annoying. The neighborhood was littered with cops not doing anything, clumped in groups and lounging on whatever was nearby. Their undercover comrades sat on the park benches and pretended to read books, believable but for the wired earpieces sticking out of their collars. All of the streets were blocked off to non-UN traffic, so the buses we use every day were rerouted, which means we actually had to walk amongst these animals. And of course none of the bus stops actually had signs on them saying the buses weren’t stopping there.

Tuesday, I got to 42nd Street after work, and these guards were standing on the sidewalk behind some barriers, but I was like, “Yeah, I live here,” and tried to saunter by without incident, but of course one of the guards took a step backward to block me and gave me this whole run-around before sending me one block north, where there were no guards. Reeeeeeeeeal intense security, guys.

Wednesday night, I came up out of the subway, and pedestrian traffic was stopped to let one motorcade of black SUVs pass west and then another motorcade pass east on the wrong side of the road. White dudes in suits were leaning out both sides of the cars, yelling at every delivery boy and street-crosser in sight. It had to all be for the President, right? Sirens wailed and horns honked, and you could see all of the Secret-Service-looking guys crammed into the backs of the vehicles despite the tinted glass, and I stood in the middle of it like, “OH MY GOD THIS IS AWESOME.” Because I am from Ohio and am easily impressed by shiny things.

Oh, UN.

I Will Never Again Go to a Wedding Without a Cookie Bar

Filed under creepy boyfriend obsession, everyone's married but katie, travels
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Our whole reason for going to California, despite what you may think, was not to remind me how ugly and dirty NYC is compared to the rest of the country. It was mostly for that, but it was also in part to see Kamran’s long-time friend Diana get married to her long-time boyfriend, Phil, who she already did freakily-adult things with like buy a house.

The ceremony was outdoors at the University Club of the University of California Irvine. There were little trellises and gazebos everywhere, Diana was possibly the most beautiful bride in history (oh, um, except for my best friend, Tracey, of course . . . oh, and my sister . . . any other loved ones I’m forgetting?), and her dad was about the cutest dad ever (I can say that since mine doesn’t read my blog):

All of my pictures of the ceremony itself have various members of Diana’s family blocking her and Phil because they were all so excited to take pictures of their own and kept popping out of their seats, but here’s a shot of them walking away as man and wife with Diana grabbing Phil’s butt:

And here’s a closeup of the lady in the background running to get out of their way that cracks me up:

Here’s Kamran and Diana inside the University Club library, and neither of them is drunk at this point, despite Kamran’s too-relaxed eyes:

When we got bored of making fun of Diana’s other guests and just wanted to get at our plated dinners, we went outside to take advantage of our dress-up clothes:

And then we made nice with a table full of strangers–one of whom, to my delight, took photos of her food to post on Facebook–while eating juicy steaks, sipping huge Long Island Iced Teas in honor of the land we’d left behind, and watching this video slideshow of the most embarrassing photos from Diana’s giant-glasses phase. As we left, we made a stop at the cookie bar and loaded up a sack for our drive back to Laguna.

But not before snapping a photo of this photo display of themselves in the lobby of the University Club, because I swear that picture on the top right looks like underwear.

I’m right, right?

Attacked by the Bubble Man

Filed under living in new york sucks so hard
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There are these gypsy vendors near the Bowling Green subway station every night who sell ties for $5, earrings for $2, perfume for $10, candy for $1, and so on. Most of them are harmless, and indeed, I almost enjoy hearing the guy with the huge dreadlocks boom, “Everything a dollar!” and seeing the candy lady sitting at her cart and reading in between customers every day. I like to think about how many books she finishes in a week.

But every now and then, there’s a guy selling bubble guns. He’s really aggressive with people he has no chance of selling to, like young women in impressive suits and bachelors with popped collars. He repeats, “Get your bubbles; take a LOOK!” and shoots bubbles at the people who ignore him.

Last night, he was directing his bubbles right into the face of a little Japanese kid in a stroller while the parents just smiled, and I passed by without looking at him. He said, “Get your bubbles; take a LOOK!” right into my ear, and I ignored him, so he stalked after me and shot bubbles at me halfway down the stairs to the subway.

Can I file harassment charges?