Thanksgivvukah

The chalk writing says: "Aren't you glad you're not a turkey?"

Couldn't have said it better myself.

Happy Thanksgivvukah. See you in December!

I Can't, I Have Plans

One of my biggest pet peeves is when plans are canceled. At the last minute. For totally illegitimate reasons. 

Excuses that have been used on me:

"I forgot, I made plans with someone else"
"I have a bar mitzvah to attend"

I know that emergencies can happen or last-minute commitments can arise. But there is nothing ruder (in my opinion) than canceling on someone hours (or, 30 minutes) before you're supposed to meet. And there is nothing more insulting than using an excuse that is so clearly not an emergency.

While I was (probably) looking forward to seeing this person, my biggest grievance with last-minute cancelers is that it is now too late for me to make replacement plans. Not only is this person leaving me to fend for myself, but he/she is also going off to engage in some other social activity - that was clearly planned in advance - without me.

Don't be this person. And don't use some lame excuse to cancel on your family's Thanksgiving plans, despite how unfun they might sound. Be a reliable person -- someone we can all be thankful for.

Happy Thanksgivvukah, everyone!

Contest Conspiracy

Over the course of my lifetime, I have entered thousands of contests. 
Enter this raffle to win free tickets to a concert/all expense-paid trip to Disney/free dinner for 4 at a steakhouse.

Every time the opportunity presents itself (for free), I always enter. I know the chances are never in my favor, but I always think to myself "What if...?

The thing is, I've thought "What if?" SO many times that my lack of winning is statistically unlikely. This thought came into my head yesterday, when I visited the dentist. As usual, there was a little box in which you could put your raffle ticket (1 per visit!) with your name and phone number.

My family and I have been going to that dentist. for at least 15 years. We each go 2 or 3 times a year. There are 4 people in our family. This means at minimum we have entered these contests 120 times (and upwards of 200 times). How is it possible that we have never won the boombox (when that was a desirable prize)/snow tube/$25 gift card to our local grocery store?!

Answer: It's a conspiracy. There really is no winner. Think about it...do these contests ever announce the winners? Do you ever hear people saying, "YAY I won the [arbitrary contest] grand prize for me and a friend!"? Have you ever heard someone say, "Nah, I won't enter these sweepstakes because I've already won one." (And not just because they're good-hearted people). NOPE. 

I hope this post is a first step towards exposing these illegitimate contest makers! (Or paying homage to the sweepstakes gods in the hopes that I win something one of these days.)

Things That Exist But Shouldn't - Part 15

15) Boredom

When I was a kid, my mom made me pay a nickel every time I said "I'm bored." 
To her, being bored was unfathomable, seeing as how many puzzles/crafts/activities I had at my disposal. Between my extensive Play Doh collection and countless Fisher Price playsets, it was not physically possible for me to be bored. I know this. (And this was even before the internet was allowed in our house!)

Nowadays, we have even more things to entertain ourselves with - smart phones, tablets, e-readers - and yet, nothing can seem to hold our attention.

Have you ever been mindlessly browsing Facebook and gotten so bored that you opened up a new tab to go on Facebook to entertain yourself, only to realize that Facebook was the source of your boredom in the first place?

I have. Multiple times.

I don't think this problem is unique to me, though.

Just a few days ago, I received this PureWow's weekly newsletter in my inbox. It highlighted what the amended FAA regulations will now mean for air travelers.

The article discusses activities we can now do during takeoff that were once prohibited. These include exciting things like listening to your iPod, playing Candy Crush on your phone, or reading.

I'M SORRY. WHAT?!

We can now read on the plane?! As if that wasn't an option before? They actually list "reading" as a now-possible activity. 

Let's rewind a second....AKA 6 years ago when the first Kindle came out. (Yes, it really is that recent.) Up until that point, people were actually reading from real books. Books that were never - and never will be - a prohibited item at any point of a flight.

Now, I love my technology and iProducts as much as the next traveler. But let's not forget to check back in with reality every so often and realize how many things we can do without something that requires charging.

Tis the Season for Tourists

The holiday season is creeping its way into New York City, and tourists are arriving by the busload. The store windows are foggy (as is my breath) while doubledecker sightseeing buses round every corner.

There's a gym on the top floor of my building with panoramic views of NYC. Usually I find the skyline to motivational for running, but occasionally I glance downwards to the streets below. As the doubledecker buses go by, the tourists below look just like the people pegs in the Game of Life.
 
After seeing a few buses pass by on last night's chilly evening, I started thinking about how miserable it must be to be a tourist on one of those buses. In the winter, the second level of the bus is privy to the winter chill. In the summer, tourists are stuck in the blazing sun, breathing in the additional layer of atmosphere - unique to NYC - known as smog.

My advice to tourists: Do what I did. Move to New York. Not that we need more people living here...but the best way to truly see New York is from the ground, rather than soaring by at 20 feet above street level.

Don't Wake Me Up

The worst ways to be woken up:

-window washers 
-construction outside
-fire drill
-bad dream
-naturally, and an hour before your alarm is set to go off

How Do I Measure Up?

Last week, it was confirmed by experts that One World Trade Center is the tallest building in the country.

Thank goodness.

For awhile, I had been under the impression - apparently, a false one - that something isn't actually a superlative until it is deemed so. 

Although the height of One WTC hasn't changed since its completion, it had to be debated whether or not we would count the spire, despite the fact that it is is a continuation of the building.
Apparently, just because the spire reaches 1,776 feet doesn't mean the building gets to do so, also.

I suppose it's kind of like that boy in third grade who gelled his hair up. (Or, if you're like Pauly D from Jersey Shore,  you still do.) Even though his hardened hair made him look taller, he wasn't actually taller than that boy whose mom made him comb his hair down. But, to experts - in this case, third grade girls - this technicality didn't matter. These gel-crazy boys got to stand in the back row on Picture Day (and we all know that's where the tallest ones were sent). At the end of the day, those boys get to look down on the heads of the Willis Tower comb-happy fellows.

Make Me Over

The other day, I had a few minutes to kill before meeting a friend for coffee. I decided to walk into Bloomingdale's, since their holiday window displays and Christmas lights were enticing on the gloomy day.

I was looking for nothing in particular, which left me vulnerable to commission-hungry cosmetic counter employees. I was browsing Michael Kors bags when an attractive male (who was NOT wearing a name tag) approached me and said, "OMG. Your eyes." I looked at him quizzically, and he asked me follow him....to a makeup counter.

As we approached the counter, he called out to another employee and says "Katie, aren't her eyes gorgeous?" Katie's back was to me, but she responded "OMG, so gorgeous!" 

She hadn't even turned around yet.
That's when I knew I was in trouble. 

I looked around at my surroundings and noted that I was at a Trish McEvoy counter. I've only heard of this brand in People magazine when celebs share their "beauty must-haves" and then the magazine provides you with affordable drug store alternatives. 

Katie asks me what I use for my daily cleansing regime. After I list the 4 components of my routine, she manages to come up with a product that I am not yet using - a serum that contains "hyaluronic acid." I was unfamiliar with this chemical, so a quick Wikipedia search informed me that "hyaluronan contributes significantly to cell proliferation and migration, and may also be involved in the progression of some malignant tumors."

Needless to say, I was no longer interested in the serum. Katie then proceeded to douse me with eye serum AND eye cream (shockingly, they are separate products), while spilling the excess on my jeans. I was not happy.

She pulled out an under-eye concealer (apparently, I have severe dark circles). She expertly applied it to my right eye, and then handed it to me so I could complete the left side. Obviously, this resulted in having a perfectly concealed right eye, which only exaggerated the effects of my poorly concealed left eye. 

At this point, I was ready to be done with this less-than-fun makeover. So, naturally, it was time for the sales pitch. 
 
Would I like to purchase the carcinogenic serum for $128? NO.
Would I like to purchase the carcinogenic serum AND eye concealer for $199? NO.

Next time I go into a department store, I'm definitely just staying with handbags. At least they can't give you tumors.

Things That Exist But Shouldn't - Part 14

14) Long Leashes

New Yorkers love:
-dry cleaning
-rushing everywhere
-their dogs

Sometimes I feel like I'm a failure as a Manhattanite because I don't have a dog that can 
a) fit in my purse or 
b) take up half the sidewalk without anyone minding. 

Dogs are always getting walked around, but I usually never mind or even take much notice.
I did notice, however, when a little weiner dog (aka a dachshund) ran in front of me...and kept going....and going....and THEN I saw the owner trailing behind.

I had never really thought about it before, but most dog walkers keep their pets on a fairly short leash, so the dog can be kept from leading too much and running into people/traffic/scaffolding. This dog owner, however, had her dog on an 10-foot leash, and couldn't keep it from chasing after a bike messenger and consequently getting tangled up on a bike rack.

I thought I was was rather disrespectful to fellow side walkers to have a dog with this free of a range on a very crowded street (34th Street). 

Also, it's a bit absurd that the dog's leash was 8 times its length.

Lost In Translation

My roommate detests people with accents. British, Southern, Irish...doesn't matter. I never understood her intolerance until a recent experience of my own. While I still do not share her strong feelings, I definitely can see where the language disconnect stems from. 

When out with friends a few weeks ago, I met a few guys from across the pond (England). Although we were technically both speaking the same language, I had a lot of trouble understanding them due to their thick accents (and the noise at the bar).

I had a series of exchanges with one of the Brits, which left me confused and very much offended.

British phrases:
1) "Sorry, I'm knackered"
2) "I'm just taking the piss"
3) "Would you like to meet for a cheeky one?"

I figured this guy was drunk (knackered), needed to use the bathroom (taking the piss) and wanted to have a quickie (cheeky one). He explained that this was not the case, and properly interpreted the phrases for me.

Translation:
1) "I'm really tired"
2) "I'm just kidding"
3) "Want to get a beer?" 

I couldn't believe that the Atlantic Ocean could create such a divide in communication. I suppose the Declaration of Independence really did its job; 250 years later, we Americans still have an independent vernacular. Turns out, I didn't have to worry about these miscommunications for much longer (he returned to the UK), but it's good to know that if I ever go abroad, I'll have some idea what the natives are saying to me (and if I should actually be offended or not).

--------------------

Addendum: I recently received a cell phone bill with international charges. I'm fighting Verizon on my obligation to pay him, citing "taxation without representation."

Properties of Punctuality

I have always tried to be on time. I grew up with a mom who was (amazingly!) always doing one task too many, and inevitably we arrived late the majority of all the time.

Since getting my driver's license and thus being able to independently transport myself, I became much more punctual, and often arrive early.*

However, it seems that Time [sic] always seems to outsmart me.
Whenever I am trying to catch a train, it works like this:

• I am early ---> train is extremely late
• I am exactly on time ---> train is extremely early and I arrive just as it is pulling away
• I am late ---> train is also late but not as late as I am, and I arrive just as it is pulling away 

I'm serious. Ask my mother if you don't believe me; every time we've been overconfident (aka stopped at Starbucks before going to the train), we miss it. Every time we sacrifice our caffeine fix, we wait...and wait...and realize that we could have hand-pressed a cup of joe in the amount of time we spend waiting for the delayed train.

I'm not really sure what to do about it. My loathing of time wasted while waiting around (which is probably the Type A/East Coaster in me) always trumps my fear of missing the train. I suppose that living in Manhattan hasn't helped, because there is always another bus/subway within sight. I think from now on, I'm always going to stop for coffee...because even if I miss the train, at least I'll have my java.

*Disclaimer: I usually arrive late to social engagements, but more often than not that is on purpose. I hate a) wasting time while sitting around waiting for someone and b) looking like an idiot while sitting around waiting for someone. But I'm trying to improve these habits.

Do You Have A Reservation?

On multiple occasions, I have walked into an empty business (restaurant, nail salon, etc.) and been asked if I had a reservation, as though I would need one.

One time, when visiting my brother at his college, he and I went out to dinner. We went to eat at 5:00 (the same time most octogenarians do), so the restaurant was completely deserted. When we arrived, the host asked us if we had a reservation. When we said no, he huffed, and scrutinized his seating chart as if to find a place to put us (despite the fact that there were over forty empty tables in eyesight).

Recently, I went into a nice (albeit empty) waxing salon on a weekday afternoon.
I walked in at 1:21 PM.

"Do you have a reservation?"
--"Sorry, no"
"Ok, let me check the next available appointment. How is 1:30?"
--"That's fine!"

They take down my contact information, which lasted until 1:24 PM.
At 1:25 PM, the girl came out to get me.

I couldn't believe that they went through a whole show of telling me I would have to wait 9 minutes (the horror!) when in fact it turned out to be less than one minute of waiting time.

I believe that businesses play this reservation game because it promotes exclusivity and desire (see previous post on FOMO), but really, it just makes them look pretty ridiculous.

FOMO

Living in New York City, I constantly experience FOMO. 

(For all of you non-millennials, it stands for Fear Of Missing Out. It is a sensation experienced when you perceive others as having more fun than you currently are.)

I always pass by clubs with people crowded around the entrances. I see bars that are so full, people are sitting 4 to table built for 2. There are deals for $6 manicures, $2 beers, $1 sushi (I swear, I've seen it). I am confident enough to pass by these and calmly make peace with the fact that I'm not partaking in said activity.

The one thing that I can't resist, however, is when I see a long line on a random block for a unknown reason. Why are these hundreds of people all here? Is it a concert? A flash sale? A theater performance? An even newer iPhone? 

I try to look for clues: are they all dressed the same? Do they have posters? Coupons in hand?

I've been part of these lines. I once went to a screening of an independent film, and the viewers lined up hours before the exclusive premiere. Passersby stopped to ask us why we were there and how they could join; suddenly, this event unknown to them becomes the most coveted thing, and they want nothing more to be apart of it.

I am guilty of that; I believe we all are. Everyone wants the opportunity to be part of something exclusive, even just for a few hours. Solution? Do more, so the only times you experience FOMO are when you're on your way to a different fun event. 


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Added 1/21/14
A perfect explanation

Things That Exist But Shouldn't - Part 13

13) Hangovers

I promise, I am not writing this post during/after experiencing one. (If I was, I would not have been able to focus on the computer screen for long enough to write this post.) However, I've had maybe one or two (I promise, no more than that, Mom and Dad), so I can attest to how brutal they are.

One of the gifts/curses of being a science major is that you understand exactly what is going on biologically. 

One time, at a bar, I went up to the bartender and told him that "my MEOS pathway is in overdrive." 
His response? "Well, that's the first time I've heard that one."

Hangovers suck because you feel like you're paying your body back for all the abuse you did to it the night before.

-A round of tequila shots = a construction site inside your head
-Power hour = not waking up until 3 PM
-Getting iced = eating only dry crackers for your meals

I think the worst part is that after you experience (and survive) one, you promise yourself that you are never going to do this to yourself again. And you mean it. But at some point or another, you end up hungover again, swearing lifelong sobriety to the porcelain gods.

Inverse Properties of Rain

It is mathematically proven (by my own observations) that there is an inverse property inherent to rain.

If you carry around a bulky umbrella that weighs down your bag, it won't rain.
If you forget to bring an umbrella, it will rain.

If you shlep around the city wearing rain boots, it won't rain.
If you wear brand new leather shoes, it will rain.

If you're wearing a water-proof head covering, it won't rain.
If you've just gotten your hair done, it will rain.

I've learned to stop trusting meteorologists. They have this amazing job where you can be wrong all the time and no one will doubt your qualifications for the job. I know for a fact that when I leave my house unprepared for wet weather, there will be precipitation. I know that when I leave fully decked out in rain gear, it will be the driest day in history.

Moral of the story? Carry a lightweight umbrella with you everywhere you go, in the hopes that you will outsmart Mother Nature.

I Am Not A Dog

How would you summon a pet? 
Whistle, snap your fingers, shout.

How do you get the attention of someone on the street?
Apparently, the same way.
I don't have enough fingers to count the number of times I've been inappropriately called out to by strange men who think that blowing kisses or winking suggestively is acceptable.

I am not a dog. I am not the neighborhood cat.
It is NOT okay to get my attention as you would an animal.

If you can't resist the urge to do so, buy yourself a pet.

"C" Below

One of the best things to have happened to NYC is the requirement of the display of sanitary grades. I consider myself to be a grade snob, and you will have a very hard time convincing me to eat at a place that is ranked anything other than an "A." 

(I tell my friends that I won't eat from a food truck because they don't receive sanitary inspection grades, but it's really just because I don't want to eat food that's been saturated by NYC's air pollution.)

I have been known to eat at an occasional "B" restaurant, but only in the cases in which I've eaten at the restaurant in the past - and loved it - and can't resist going back. But, if it's a new place, and it's between dining at an A-rated McDonald's or a B-rated gourmet pizza place, I'd be inclined to choose McDonald's. Most likely.

"B" restaurants can get by if they cleverly abscond their letter or just serve high quality food that is too yummy to resist. 

What I don't understand, however, is how "C" restaurants can still open their doors. I learned (after researching on the internet) that restaurants have the choice to display their grade or "Grade Pending" if anything other than an "A" is received. This means that a handful of restaurants - although admittedly, I've only seen a few in Manhattan - have the cojones to display their "C." Perhaps the "C" actually stands for cojones. 

More likely, however, it means that you should avoid these restaurants at all costs.

If You Smell Something, Say Something

The other day, a woman sat down next to me on the crosstown bus. It was a rather chilly day, so she was bundled up in scarves and layers.

She proceeded to take out a bottle of perfume and spray her neck no less than 7 times. Like I said, I was sitting directly next to her, so very quickly, her perfume became mine, and my clothes (and olfactory senses) were soon flooded with "musty rose" or whatever she chose to apply.

City buses are NOT the time to apply perfume.

Do that outside while you're waiting for the bus, in the well-ventilated streets of New York.
Do it at home, before you leave, so your skin has time to absorb it.
Do it when you arrive at your destination, so your friends/loved one/employer can smell you. Instead of me.

Things That Exist But Shouldn't - Part 12

12) Sorry, Not Sorry

Perhaps one of my favorite hashtags, #sorrynotsorry perfectly embodies a disingenuous apology for something about which you feel guilty.

A few exampls of modern usage:

I ate the last cupcake #sorrynotsorry

Got kicked out of Starbucks for staying too long without buying more #sorrynotsorry

Took 3 extra items into the dressing room #sorrynotsorry

You get that point.
However, there are times that I am genuinely sorry for things, in which case I simply say "sorry." That usually does the trick, unless of course the person doesn't believe you.

Yesterday, I walked into Grand Central Station to surrender 4 hours of my life to the Apple Store (but I can't complain, I got the new iPhone 5S and it's perfectly awesome). As I walked in, a custodial worker was crossing the hallway with a large bag of recycling. He was crossing at a diagonal while I (and 100 other people) walked parallel.

See diagram below:


|                         Man  |
|                     -             |
|               -                   |
|         -                         |
|         -                         |
|       Me                       |
| Flatbed                     |

I realized that he was walking towards the spot that I would soon be approaching, but figured he would divert his path to:
a) go with the flow of traffic 
b) go towards the flatbed truck behind me to which he would be unloading the bag.

He did not change course, and thus I lightly bumped into the bag. I said sorry, and continued walking, when I hear behind me, "No, you're not."

I turned around.

"Excuse me?"
--"You said you're sorry. You're not sorry."
"Yes, I am. I didn't mean to bump into you."
--"Yes, you did. You saw me coming and you walked right into me."
"I thought you were going to go around because that's where the empty cart was. I'm sorry."
--"No, you're not! Stop saying you're sorry if it wasn't genuine. I know you're not sorry."

At this point, I walked away. 
I was completely taken aback; who was he to tell me that I wasn't sorry?! Like I said, I'm a huge fan of being sorrynotsorry when appropriate, but this was not one of those times. I was genuinely sorry for the light collision, and could not believe that he was attacking me because he believed otherwise.

I began to write the day off as a very negative experience, until some absolutely wonderful employees at the Apple store made my day by getting me the new iPhone and fixing my Mac for free. And then I indulged in an all-too-expensive cup of cappuccino from Irving Farm. Sorrynotsorry. 

Days Late, Posts Short

Well, there's no excuse. I got lazy and stopped posting for the past two weeks. 
On the bright side, I've collected quite a bit of material that should ensure the next few weeks keep your inbox full of clever commentary. Stay tuned!