There's No Place Like Home(s)

This weekend past, I had an inexplicable urge to visit family back in CT. It was hard to pinpoint just why I had this urgency, but on some subconscious level, I had an intuition that my aunt was heading back to Florida, and this had a lot to do with the way I was feeling. By Friday afternoon, the desire became a need. Acting on my gut feelings, I found myself packing, purchasing tickets, and leaving within a few hours of my inner confirmation. The visit proved to be great, and the journey to and fro was incredibly stress free. Climbing aboard an empty Amtrak train is a rare sight for those who travel the northeastern corridor on a weekend.

This visit also affirmed something that has been gnawing inside of me for awhile -- that you can call several places home. I think I have finally become comfortable enough to allow my visits to my mom's house to be called "going home". I fully realize that I have my own abode, and that it will forever hold the top spot over any other locale. This has been a battle that has raged inside of me for some time.

What caused these conflicted feelings for so very long? Probably all of the naysayers who were present in my life when I moved out of state in the first place. Those who thought that moving to a new area of the country was crazy, a criminal form of abandonment, and that I would fail and be back "home", tail between my legs, within a certain amount of time. I was foolish for listening to them, but on many levels, was so unprepared with the challenges of my move that I let them get to me. All of them. Over the last year, I have fallen into a nice comfort zone with the realization that one can indeed call many places home. The ten year mark of the move had a lot to do with my new outlook as well. At first, I fought these feelings tooth and nail. Then I gave in as part of a quiet reluctance. Finally, I accepted the idea and developed a confidence around my feelings.

On another note, I dropped in to see both my father and grandmother as well. It was nice to pack in as many family visits as possible since I always seem to separate the two sides (mother and father) into individual visits. Nothing personal. Not at all, really. For some odd reason, it just always seems to work out that way. I simply adore my grandmother and thoroughly enjoy spending time with her. A modern woman with whom anyone can dish with about the trials and tribulations of today's events, I often ask her to discuss a memory or two of her childhood, The Blitz, and the past in general. I do this because I never really bothered to with my other grandparents, and I regret it sorely.

So, this past weekend, I went from home to home, and then back to my home. There's no place like home(s), where ever you happen to be.

Pick & Choose

It's been tough playing seesaw over which classes I want to take this upcoming semester. Since I will have time to manage only one course, the process of elimination is making me go absolutely batty. Choosing courses is fun, but going about picking the one that will fit into your major before you've even been accepted to a college for the second half of your degree, is truly proving to be quite difficult.

I could go conservative and take the Historiography class that is required for my major. Or, I could take the Food and Drink in a Cultural Context class, which looks like lots of fun, and can go towards my possible minor (anthropology). This might all be scrapped so I can try and gain admittance into the Introduction to Canada class that will be available online through SUNY-Plattsburgh. Not only would this satisfy a requirement for my major, but it will prove to be very helpful to me. A happy medium(?).

Presently, I am taking classes at Empire State College (ESC) until a laboratory science class becomes available at my future Alma mater. Then, finally, I can graduate with my A.A. degree in Liberal Arts and Social Sciences. I'm at a bit of a crossroads in that I'm still not sure whether I want to go on to complete my BA at ESC, or apply to the distance learning program at UIS. So far, I've done two courses at ESC, and have been very comfortable with the flow of things.

On one hand, UIS is probably the better choice, because not only does the degree focus more on European history (which is a preference of mine), but it's a more solid institution. On the other hand, ESC is attractive because it falls under the SUNY umbrella, and the degree plan is much more flexible than at UIS.

Still, lots of decisions to make for my future, and I can't even make a final choice on one class. I've got a long way to go here!.

Pushing Issue

Tonight, while shopping at the Brooklyn Target store (and for once grabbing a cart with normal working wheels), I got into a shouting match with some big fat bitch (hereby called BFB). Oh, did I mention she was ugly too? Apparently, I ran over her foot. I really don't know how I could have run over those great big giant pontoons of hers, seeing that it was so damn hard to miss them. Especially since her fat ass sneakers were so damn white, like over bleached game show host teeth.

Now, I'll be the first to admit that I get a bit anxious when shopping at big department stores. I'm all cloistered there in downtown Manhattan where mom and pop stores abound. So, getting inside a store like Target opens the flood gates of my heart, but ceases to allow my brain to function properly. While trying to round a corner into the soda aisle, her cart was in the way. I stopped, waited, and saw her roll her eyes and give me a snotty "Mmmm, mmmm" kind of look. I figured I would inch my way around her, with no such luck. Finally, I waited for an in and went with it. First, a look of disgust, then a shaking of the head. Finally, as I was already rolling my cart down the aisle, BFB mustered the courage to push issue with yours truly.

"You didn't see my foot there!?" BFB called out to me.

"No. I. Didn't", I replied firmly. My mouth was sealed with a confident smirk, but my heart was beating a mile a minute over the possible outcome of this angry exchange.

"You thought you could just run me over, didn't you!?" Her stance was in a position which indicated to me that she was about to do a sassy and overly gestured zig-zagging three-snaps-up with her fingers.

BFB truly believed in her heart of hearts that her large-and-in-charge presence combined with her loud voice would turn me into some shrinking violet. It didn't. In fact, it only gave me the confidence to be loud in return.

"I didn't run over your foot!!" I called back to her. BFB was now staring at me as if I were going to tremble in her presence. I repeated myself, "I didn't run over your foot!!" Then, I did the most bold thing possible. I guffawed and strolled away with my head high.

BFB trudged off muttering sweet nothings to herself. I, full of satisfaction from my victory, had immediate thoughts of evilness run throughout my brain. I had it in mind to approach her at the checkout and stomp on her foot all while shouting "I didn't run over your foot!!"

Revenge fantasies are sweet. But on some occasions, only in your mind.

My Moment of Zen

A few weeks ago, I bid for and won a 30GB Creative Zen Vision: M. I am so doing a happy dance over my win considering it was snagged at $100 less than it currently retails for. For the past two years, I've owned a Zen Micro, which I love, love, love - but it only played music. However, I could never hide my disappointment that had I waited to purchase my Zen Micro just a few months later, a Creative product with superior video capabilities would be made available instead. But let's not dwell, okay?

After several trips to visit family and friends, I grew tired of those lulls one faces while waiting on the bus in I-95 traffic, or being held up for whatever reasons never given by Amtrak and Metro North. After the novelty of reading wears off, you really crave something more interesting than staring at your fellow passengers. Last year's return home from Europe also produced much internal frustration due to the lack of in-flight entertainment available to us schlubs in cattle class. Really now, there are only so many times a human being can endure You, Me & Dupree over and over again. Hopefully now, no more!

So far, I have been transferring my music over to this player with excellent results. Plus video and photos, which are the real reasons for purchasing this little guy. As for the videos, I've been downloading them like a banshee and pretty much taxing out my poor laptop in the process. I think it's going to need a spa break in Baden-Baden really soon. I'm also beginning to fear that an intervention is in store should my family and friends see the amount of British television, documentaries, travel and cooking shows I watch.

Bulls-1, Humans-0

It's that time of year again - The Running of the Bulls in Pamplona, Spain. Each and every year, this archaic tradition induces full body peals of laughter every time I hear/read/see that some lame excuse for a human being has been gored by some helpless, confused, stressed out bulls, who have been trotted out for our sick pleasures.

Having a member of the bovine family chase me through the streets is about as appealing as having, say, an rabid pit bull do the same. Yet, the minute an animal does what an animal is naturally built to do, and attacks because of the stupidity of the human race; we get angry, indignant, and insist that the poor creature get put down. After all, we are the "intelligent" species, right? Sigh.

I say we call for a new tradition - The Running of the Nudes. It's harmless and fun, and you don't have to worry about suffering the same fate as a bull.

Free Cornbread

For some odd inexplicable reason, the corner of 34th and Broadway is thee epicenter for free handouts. The freebies I have received on my way from the subway exit to my workplace, have ranged anywhere from protein bars, to energy saving light bulbs (for Earth Day), and condoms (for AIDS Awareness Day). Today was no different in the uniqueness that is free booty.

To promote the grand opening of another branch of Dallas BBQ (excellent Texas Size Pina Coladas, I might add), a delivery man was handing out free warm cornbread. Right there on the street. At first, I viewed him with suspicion. Then the thought occurred to me that he was just fed up with the job and enacting some kind of revenge by giving away his delivery orders. All before turning in his apron, of course. After observing others, I slowly approached and reached for one of the brown paper bags that he was handing out. Back in the office, I opened it to see that I had been given two huge pieces of cornbread. Each piece was about 3"x3"x2" in size -- and so delicious.

Just another day in the things that make NYC so oddly interesting.

Type A Negative

I’m sick and tired of being a little miss goody-two shoes.

I’ve just passed in my research paper for class. I know that deep in my heart of hearts that I haven’t really truly given my all to this class. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not the class, nor the material. In fact, I have been dying to take a Native American history class for ages. I mean, since my dream is to turn in my senior dissertation on Native Americans who have emigrated to Europe, you would think this would be such a great starting point, a veritable springboard, right?

So, after much soul searching, I think I’ve figured it all out. I finally realized what has been gnawing inside of me for some time. Are you ready? I am simply sick of going to school. There, I said it. I have reached a breaking point where it’s all coming down to the fact that I just want to get it over with. Another factor is that since I am only half way through, I have been approaching it with difficulty all this time. I’m trying so hard to be good. Well, I’m sick of being good.

I had tried college right after high school and failed miserably. At the time, I just wasn’t cut out for it. I needed time -- me time. However, deep down inside, there was that gnawing little feeling. I knew that sometime in my life I had to get my bachelor's degree. Even if some view it as only a piece of paper, and many don’t work in the field they studied for, it’s still an accomplishment. Later on in my life, I decided it was time to go back. As a barometer, I took one class, to see if I was cut out for the responsibility. I got an A. Let me tell you, it was so damn exhilarating, and a sign that, yes, I can do it after all. That A eventually did me in. Afterwards, I couldn’t turn back. What happened afterwards was a lesson in “type A” studentry (is that even a word?). I strived for the highest grade possible in each and every class. That was my supreme goal, and in the end, it became the only means necessary for my education.

Lately, I find myself just wanting to piss around and do nothing. Or, do other things that require my full attention. Last year, I took a wonderful sewing class. It was nice to start that hobby back up, since I so love to sew. But, there was that educational "do it!" cloud that always seemed to hang over my head, proving it to be so difficult to relax and go with the flow without thinking of how many more discussions I had to contribute to on our forum. Or how I had to head back to the library, yet again to pick something up for my research paper.

These past few months, I found myself doing it again. I admit that it took me much later this time to put a flame under my ass and get going on my paper. I had the subject matter all figured out. That wasn’t the problem. I culled my research. Again, no problem. I admit, I do write a mean research paper. It was the sitting down and actually typing my paper out that put me in a mental quandary.

So, I sabotaged myself by turning in my paper (days) late and at the same time realized that I hadn’t turned in the second assignment, which was simply to outline exactly what my paper was about. A stupid move, since I will be penalized; and even more stupid is that I had the information all this time. And all this time I’m fighting the feeling that I’m not getting an A. I’m trying to fight the fact that I do not deserve an A, and it happens to be in one of the most important classes of my college career. This class is part of my major. This class will eventually be the catalyst for my senior dissertation.

Is it the end of the world? No, certainly not. Is it time to re-think my approach towards my educational goals and get out of this slump? Yes, most certainly.

2B or Not 2B

In a monumental turn of events, for once, I am siding with my landlords. No, I haven't bought a one way ticket for a ride on the crazy train...yet. The reason involves a rabble rouser whom I'll call 2B.

Last year, when I brought my landlords to housing court over some serious issues (like no heat in the middle of March), 2B suddenly seemed very interested in getting involved with my case. Even to the point of declaring she would come to court with me. I kept my guard up, because after all, she never said so much as one word to me in all the years I have lived in this building. A bit weird for someone who not only lives on my floor, but who is also five doors down from me. At first, I chalked it up to weirdness, but now, I know the full scope of things. 2B only wants to associate with you if it involves causing trouble.

It all began several days ago, while gathering up my trash for next day's pickup, I noticed numerous things that did not compute. One was the absence of bins for both our paper and plastic recyclables. The other was the disappearance of the huge can for our regular garbage. Both the bin for plastics and the bin for our regular garbage have had a longstanding place inside our vestibule. The bin for our paper goods was always inside the foyer.

Apparently, 2B, angry over the legal change from rent control to stabilization, decided to work with her lawyer to make things difficult for the building's owners. My guess is that he is some shyster Lionel Hutz type of "law talking guy", who probably has a 1-800 number that coincides with his area of litigious expertise. Her master plan was to get the landlord to exclude her from the rent change over. So, she made several calls to 311 to complain about the "garbage problem". I put that in full-on ridiculous finger quotes because there was never a garbage problem.

The charges have resulted in the relocation of our bins to the outside of the building, and the complete loss of paper recycling for us tenants. Now the building is a major eyesore -- and has a huge potential for serious rodent problems. The landlords are also dealing with one city agency who agrees that garbage left inside the building creates a health hazard, and another agency who claims that it's a hazard to keep leaving garbage outside of the building. It is now all in limbo as the agencies duke it out, and considering it's the City of New York the landlords are dealing with, we're in it for the long haul.

Drama.

So, where is 2B in all of this? Carrying on day to day in her own merry little way, completely oblivious and uncaring that this is, in the long run, only going to bite her in her skinny little ass. Not that she actually cares about the garbage, it is merely a minor coup for all her dastardly efforts. What has happened is a loss of support for whatever offenses the owners have caused her over the years. Now, she is on the outs with the tenants, and that's something you really don't want, or need. Hey, we're suffering from this too! In several ways. We are not the only ones who got screwed by the legal ruling from control to stabilization. That was Albany's doing. Now, we also have to deal with lack a of waste facilities, and a possible rodent problem as well. All because one person went on a selfish campaign against the wrong people.

I hate you 2B! Crying wolf will be the death of you when you actually get eaten by the wolf. I really wish you had picked the proper battles.