Fashion and the City

This past weekend, I managed to squeeze in enough time to catch the Sex and the City Movie with MJ and her coworker JP. (Since KT moved back to NY, JP has been a super-fun replacement in our girl gang. Not that KT can be replaced, but you know what I mean. Anyway, I love making new friends, so it's always nice to see JP.)

After the movie was over, MJ & JP mentioned that they thought the clothes were ugly, outrageous and impractical. I, on the other hand, thought they were FANTASTIC. They are fun and irreverent. When I go to the movies, I want to escape my mundane life and pretend I have another life -- usually, the life of the heroine. I think this is why I like romantic comedies so much. My life can always use more laughter and love, as far as I'm concerned.

In the case of SATC, I love to watch it and pretend that

A) I live in NYC, my thus-far favorite place on Earth,
B) It is socially acceptable to wear outrageous haute couture clothing that is so artistic and unique, and
C) I have enough money to do both things.

So to say that I really enjoyed this movie is an understatement. It was like a wonderful, extra-long season finale episode. Now, ladies, if you haven't seen it yet, I promise I won't give any plot details away. But I have GOT to share these fabulous (and, admittedly socially outlandish) clothes with you!!!! Yes, I know they are silly and crazy. But I love them!!! I love how fun fashion can be. I love that fashion is sort of like art in motion. It's like a painting or a feeling that you can wear. I love how confident the women who wear these clothes are. I really wish I got to wear such crazy stuff all the time. And why not? Life is short. The way we dress is one of the few things we have control over in this life. It's just an outfit. It's temporary. Removable. Fun. We watch crazy things on tv. We eat crazy foods at exotic restaurants. Why not wear crazy clothes, too? Who's with me?

I think I am hearing crickets. *sigh* Ok, fine. I guess the cheese stands alone.

I know men don't "get" SATC and they think it's all man-bashing. And I know most people don't get the crazy clothes. Or the absurdity of the fact that a writer, living alone in NYC, can afford a designer wardrobe. But I am totally ok with suspending reality when I'm watching a movie. And I really enjoyed suspending reality for this one! So ladies, if you have been planning on seeing it, you've GOT to. It was a great movie, even if you are just a minor fan of the show. But I wouldn't go see it if I were a novice fan. You've got to understand the history of Carrie & Big, Miranda & Steve, Charlotte & Harry and Samantha & Smith so you won't get lost. Ok, enough about the movie. Let's look at the clothes!!!

Here were my faves:
Hello! How badly do I want a pair of zebra shoes like these now? LOVE how Carrie wears them with a red print and a sequin minidress. Great contrast.
Alright, everyone has been dissing the bird in her hair. But I think it's AWESOME. Very Carrie. And I love the color. So original -- who else wears feathers in their hair on their wedding day?? Almost like a hat. And I love women in hats. I want hats to come back!!
Miranda's blue dress might be the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen. And Charlotte's roses are my favorite color.
Ok, I am not really feeling this green dress that much. But I do like the shoes! Gladiator stilettos?? I am woman, hear me roar! RAWR!!!
I have to admit, I could do without Samantha's shoulder pads. But I love everything else, especially Miranda's gold dress.
LOVE the dresses Charlotte and Miranda are wearing.
Gorgeous, gorgeous gorgeous. Another shot of Charlotte's bridesmaid dress.
Super fun dress. Love the hot pink with the belt. I'm not feeling the footwear, though...it's too much, even for me.
Freaking awesome dress. Yes, I know it looks like the flower is eating her face. But it's so dramatic. *sigh*
I'm pretty sure this dress is from a scene that was cut. But isn't it fantastic?? So feminine.

Now, unless you have seen the movie, you won't understand the significance of these blue satin Manolos, but aren't they just perfect??? I wish I had a pair. Note to self: buy pair of blue satin stilettos, despite the fact you have no outfit to wear with them.

Ok, fashion moment over. Back to reality. Brown pants. Ruffled aqua blouse. Flat, brown sandals. South Carolina. Yawn.

It's Friday!!!

Time for something fun!!!! YAY!! Weekend!!!

CN and I love this commercial, and we have started to say, "What the French, Toast?" to each other. *snicker* Hope you think it's as funny as we do.



CN told me about these next two videos. He said that I'm lucky Kelly doesn't live near here, or else I would have serious competition. *rolls eyes* My coworkers think they are a riot, but MJ doesn't think they are funny. All I know is, I can't stop saying, "Lemme borrow that top!"

*WARNING: These are NOT suitable for work or children! So turn your speakers down!*


Ok, I am STILL laughing about these Kelly videos, and I've watched them at least 5 times. This guy (whoever he is) needs to make more Kelly videos. Or else I will "betchslap" the stupid outta him!

Well, we all know this weekend is The Superbowl! This year I am hoping the Giants will win. My fam is full of Colts fans, so rooting for the Giants is as close as we can get. Besides, I like to root for underdogs. Although, Tom Brady is pretty hot.......OMG, girls, have you checked out the new Stetson ads? Yee-Ha, Cowboy! *faints into puddle on floor*

Where was I? Oh yeah. If you want to see some of the commercials that will air, check out this site.

Who are you cheering on in The Big Game? Do you have any fun plans?

Thursday 13: KT

At the end of this weekend, KT is moving back to her hometown of Utica, NY. I know that MJ is pretty bummed, and I am too. Although we understand that she's gotta do what she's gotta do, it just won't be the same without her. So until we can reunite the Black Ponies again (inside joke!), MJ and I will be here in SC, feeling sad that these things will not be the same without our dear KT.

*sniff!!*

1. Eating Mexican food. Or going to Yesterday's for their yummy chicken and grits.

2. Going to watch our favorite local band, Loch Ness Johnny.

3. Going out for Girl's Night......pink champagne....crazy drunk men....who knows what would happen???

4. Giggling over the same old inside jokes. ("Belle??")

5. Eating dinner at our favorite special-occasion restaurant, The Blue Marlin. Or, as one of us slurred once, "The Moo Blarlin".

6. Planning our next trip together. (We have been talking about hitting Philly next...but I don't know if it will beat our NYC trip last summer...)

7. Playing with and talking about our dogs. Or, in KT's case, sneaking them into hockey games.

8. Making birthday cakes (or, in MJ's case, pies) for each other.

9. Bowling nights with Mr. Bill & Crew.

10. Going to Goatfeather's (a local restaurant) or Starbuck's for coffee and long, deep discussions about men and our lives.

11. Cheesecake.

12. The St. Patty's Day festival in 5 Points.

13. Pretty much everything. Even turning "blight". (Yeah, we have a lot of inside jokes...can you tell??)

Oh!!! I am getting really sad writing this!!! KT, we will miss you so much. I can't wait until you come back in May to see us. :')

Stories of My Family, Part 4

I have told you about The Czarina's parents. Now, let me switch over to the other side of my family -- the Belle side.

Grandpa Belle (his name was Charles) was born in New York state, I believe. He had one sister (Dorothy, who I believe may still be alive somewhere in Florida, although I've never met her). When he was seven years old, his dad walked out on the family for unknown reasons. According to my Aunt J, this wasn't the worst thing that could have happened -- apparently he was a jerk anyway. I don't know any specifics about this situation, because my Aunt J refuses to elaborate. So it must be something awful. Maybe he was a wife beater or a bank robber. Who knows. Whatever the situation, he left his wife and kids destitute.

So from the age of 7 on, my Grandpa Charles was the breadwinner of the family. I don't know why his mother (Emma) couldn't get a job...maybe she did. If she did, it didn't pay much, because my grandpa had to work while he went to school. He managed to support his mother and sister while still doing very well in school. I have no idea how he did this. He did so well in school, in fact, that he received free tuition at Syracuse University.

Go Grandpa!!

So off he went to college. Unfortunately, the scholarship did not cover his room and board, so he had to get a job while he was a full-time college student, majoring in forestry of all things. So he began waiting tables at a restaurant.

I have no idea what Great-Grandma Emma and Great Aunt Dot did for money while he was at school. I need to ask my Aunt J. I guess Dot went to work. Last I heard, she was a redneck who lived in a trailer in Florida. I don't really know much about Dot. I don't even know if she's still alive. I do know that for the rest of his life, no matter how little, my Grandpa Charles always sent money home to his mother. Awww. See, he was a good son.

Meanwhile, my grandma Florence was also being raised in New York somewhere. She was an only child, born to Paul and (his first wife), Belle. The marriage broke up sometime after my grandma was born. I know someone cheated on the other, but I am not sure about who did it. So that's why Belle was the first wife. I'm sure this was extremely scandalous at the time, especially in their WASPy New England society! *shock and awe!*

(In case you haven't noticed, there are a lot of horrible girls' names on my father's side of the family, aside from Emma, which is a nice name. No offense to anyone with these names, but I think they are awful: Florence, Gertrude, Dorothy, Arabella, Prudence and -- I swear to God I am not making this up -- Eulella and Euphemia. WTF? Who hates their kids that much? We always joke that the name Euphemia sounds like a disease: "Yeah, I went to the doctor the other day. He told me I've got euphemia! I have six months to live!")

All joking aside, let's move on.

While Grandpa Charles grew up poor as a church mouse, my Grandma Flo grew up in the lap of luxury. She came from a long line of well-educated, socially distinguished WASPs. Her oldest ancestor actually came over on the Mayflower.

Now, it's not as cool as it sounds -- there are today millions of descendants from each Pilgrim that came over. You or someone you know is probably also related to a Pilgrim. I'm just trying to illustrate how freaking long my family has been in America.

So this is an old family we are talking about. Far different from my Grandpa Charles' family, who came over from Scotland in the comparatively modern decade of the 1740s.

At one point, Grandma Flo's grandfather (or was it her great-grandfather...??) was a dentist in New York City, which I think is super cool, because I think NYC is the coolest place ever. Several members of this branch of my family went to Yale, became professors, doctors and preachers -- that sort of thing. Her father was something in the medical field. I think he was a dentist also.

In short, she made my grandpa look like white trash. It's like one of those 1980s teen movies, where the head cheerleader ends up with that boy from "the wrong side of the tracks". But now I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm just trying to illustrate to you the differences in backgrounds between my grandparents. On paper, it's like, "What?? These two had anything in common??" But you'll see what I mean in a minute.

Grandma Flo also found herself at Syracuse in the early 1930s. She joined a sorority, which she soon discovered was full of lesbians, which didn't sit well with her, and so she dropped out, I think. (Weird, huh? Yeah, my Aunt J knows the coolest, most scandalous family stories! I love it!)

I have no idea what she majored in. Knowing her, she had no business being in college in the first place. Not because she was stupid. She was a sweet lady and I loved her, but dammit she was lazy! She would have been fired from any job she had! But I guess this is how you are when you're born with a silver spoon in your mouth, especially in that day and age -- she probably went to college to meet her future husband, not to chase a career.

I don't know how much of a catch she would have been. She never had to cook, clean, sew, work or do much of anything growing up. She didn't know how to do anything, because the servants had always done it. So it's a good thing my grandpa came along when he did, because she honestly couldn't feed herself, and we already know she couldn't have held a job. So the poor thing would have either lived in her mother's basement or simply died of malnourishment if it hadn't been for my grandpa. She was lucky she was attractive and very, very sweet. She was THE sweetest person you'd ever meet. Always affectionate and warm. I'm sure that's what my grandpa loved about her. I know that's what I liked about her. (She was the only grandparent I ever met.)

Speaking of malnourishment, one evening while at Syracuse, my grandma went with a girlfriend to a restaurant for dinner. (See? I told you she couldn't even feed herself.)

They were looking at their menus, trying to decide on what to order, when their waiter came over to greet them. His name was Charles. And that's how my grandparents met!

It was love at first sight for both of them-- we are talking puppy-dog pathetically in love, here -- and they planned on getting married once they graduated. They enjoyed dating all through college. I know they must have gone to some football games together, because I have seen the ticket stubs. (Yeah, I know. Who keeps college football ticket stubs from the 1930s? That would be my father, World's Biggest Pack Rat.) And I think they took a trip to the Finger Lakes or something, because there's a photo of them in their swimsuits. Aw. Cute, huh?

Too bad that Great-Grandpa Paul did not like his future son-in-law. Nevermind that Charles supported his sister and mother aaaaaall through school while still making such excellent grades that he got a free ride to Syracuse. Nevermind that Charles was totally in love with Florence. What was the problem? He wasn't rich.

Can you believe it? Just wait, it gets worse.

Great-Grandpa Paul disliked the idea of their marriage so much, he wrote her out of the will. His own and only daughter. His only child, in fact. What a jerk, huh? (If you have been paying attention, this same situation happened with my mother's parents -- weird coincidence. What was up with fathers boycotting their daughters' marriages back then? Sheesh!)

So Charles and Florence ended up eloping and having their honeymoon at Niagara Falls.

I know it must have pained her to lose her relationship with her father. Charles and Florence always tried to make amends with Great-Grandpa Paul. They even gave my dad the middle name of Paul, in the hopes that it would encourage him to have a relationship with his grandchildren. It didn't work. My father met Paul once. After that, Paul didn't want anything to do with his grandchildren. Isn't that sad???

My dad was really upset about this as an adult. He actually made us all promise never to use the name Paul for any of our kids! I can't really say I blame him. Ok, back to the story.

Meanwhile, his now-ex-wife, Belle, saw the grandkids rather frequently. She looked like your stereotypical granny -- white hair in a bun, glasses, floral print or black dress, sensible shoes and handbag. She died when her grandkids were very young, so my dad didn't remember her very well. All I know about her is what I see in the old photos.

In the end, Grandpa Charles and Grandma Florence had four children: David (who died when he was 2 days old because the doctor didn't clean out his nasal passages well enough--sad, I know), my dad, my Uncle G and my Aunt J. They moved around a little bit -- Erie, PA to Elkins, WV to Arlington, VA. Grandpa Charles was a forester and worked for the National Forestry Service. In other words, Grandma Florence never lived in the lap of luxury again. They barely made ends meet, and my dad grew up living in middle-class apartments, not a house like other kids.

I'll tell you more about my dad's childhood later. This post is getting too long, and I have a ton of stories about that.

Anyway, that's how my dad's parents met. And they remained deeply in love until the day they died! Aw.

Quiz Answers

Alright, people. Let's go over the quiz answers before I announce the winner.

1. I have never been to California. I have never been west of Kansas, actually.
2. I have a seriously difficult time avoiding shoe sales or the makeup counters.
3. I have never been a telemarketer, because I hate telemarketers. If you answered this one incorrectly, perhaps you need to read this post.
4. My dogs are Boston Terriers. In case you don't know what that kind of dog looks like, here is a pic of my Sammy. And my boobs:
Now that you have seen my boobs, I don't want any whining about the lack of boobage on this blog.
5. I drive a piece-of-shit Pontiac. True to form, it is currently in the shop. As soon as I find a ride to the mechanic's after work, I can have my stupid car back (oh, the joy) for a measly $160. It's still cheaper than a car payment, I guess...
6. Not very many people got this one -- The name "Virginia Belle" is one of the nicknames my dad used to call me. That's where I got the name. NOT from the nudie girl. Major props to peeps who got this -- it has been mentioned a whopping ONE time in this blog's history. Gold stars for you!
7. Ok, ok, this was kind of a trick question. Do I like camping? Do I like the beach? No, and yes, respectively. But I would rather go to NYC than anywhere in the whole world. Yes, even Italy, which is something I never thought I'd say. Very few people got this one, either. So don't feel badly if you missed it.
8. I spent my undergrads at Indiana (Go Hoosiers!!) and then went to South Carolina for library school (so, yes, if you are a librarian, that means you did indeed go to grad school).
9. I eat the same thing for breakfast pretty much every morning. I am weird. I can play Tetris, Scattergories and Taboo for days on end. I am obsessive. I break out into a cold sweat when presented with brown crickets, diving or heights. I am a wuss. So that leaves A) I am a librarian and I love it. I cannot imagine doing anything else. NOT!!!!
10. And yes, I have dated a guy with three balls, a jerk who ate half my dinner and a guy who ended up being gay. Please, hold your applause. *takes a bow* And this may/may not have been a flawed question, as I cannot find any evidence in previous posts about the gay guy I dated in college. So if you were scratching your head on that one, my bad. I don't think I mentioned it. If you want the whole story, remind me to post it. My friends IRL (in real life) probably all know it, because they like to laugh at me, and this is a good factoid for that purpose.

So if you took the quiz (there were 27 of you, which makes me happy, because that is my favorite number), I am saying "Thank you! You are cool!" But I'm sure you are thinking, "Shut up and tell us who won!"

To which I reply: MJ cheated and signed up her dog to take the quiz, so that she could take it a second time, because she didn't get 100% the first time around. So actually, the winner of the quiz, with a perfect score of 100 is: Tater.


Don't let that face fool you -- he has an amazing ability to listen and remember things. And although he has never seen me naked, I'm sure he is rather ambivalent about the opportunity. He has already seen what I look like, although probably not well, since he has an eye condition. Naked pics or PG-rated pics would probably be the same to him. So unfortunately for my readers, my fractionally-anonymous clothed and/or nekkid body will remain internet-proofed. Um, as far as I know, anyway.

I had a good weekend, aside from my car acting up. The dashboard light lit up again. It says "Service Engine Soon" but it might as well say "You Drive a Piece of Shit". Anyway, it's fixed now, and waiting on me to go shell out $160 to pay for the "stuck open thermostat" which may be mechanic-speak for "my kid's braces". Ugh. How the hell can replacing one dinky thermostat cost so damn much?? I can buy a thermometer from the drugstore for about $5.00 -- cant' they just use that? I guess I should stop complaining. Normally, my repairs are about $300.

Let's move on, shall we? Ok. I'm trying to focus on the upside: CN is picking me up after work today to take me to go get my car. Aw, what a good boyfriend!! +500 points.

Speaking of him, he is involved in the highlight of my weekend. Without this highlight, my weekend would have been nothing but lazy slothdom: watching movies, eating candy, baking, cooking, board games, shopping, napping.....*yawn!*

Where was I? Oh yes. On Saturday, I went with CN to go meet up with his parents for lunch. We met each other halfway in-between Columbia (where CN and I are) and Barnwell (where CN's parents are). I am referring to the metropolis that is Neeses, SC. (Nudie pic for anyone reading this who has actually been to Neeses, SC -- pending evidentiary proof, of course.)

So we meet up in Neeses for lunch. Which is difficult to do, considering Neeses (pop. 407) is so small that there AREN'T any restaurants. Not even fast food ones. At first look, this might seem to be a stumbling block in our plans, but we do have a solitary dining choice: the grocery store.

Oh yes, you read that correctly. The Piggly-Wiggly in Neeses, SC has a built-in restaurant. They have fantastic soft serve ice cream! They serve breakfast, even! They have nightly specials! And senior citizen discounts! And greasy, laminated menus! And tables that are 25% smaller than they should be! As if this isn't enough, here is the kicker:

If you go to the meat department, and pick out something you want to eat (whether it's a steak or 20 chicken wings or 1 lb of ground beef), you can take it into the restaurant, and they will cook it for you AND give you a choice of baked potato or french fries for only an additional charge of...........drumroll, please...........$1.88!!!

This is, according to CN's dad, THE. COOLEST.THING. EVER. Which cracks me up, because my dad would have thought it was the coolest thing ever.

So we go to the meat department, and everyone selects a steak except me.

"Um, I'm kind of in the mood for a burger. They have burgers, right?" I mumbled sheepishly.

All three of them stopped dead, holding packages of raw meat in their hands. They turned to look at me in unison, shocked and awed that I am not rummaging through the steaks.

"But you can pick anything you want! Anything! And they will cook it!" said CN's dad, astonished.
"Oh, come on now, getcha a steak," said CN's mom.
"It's only $1.88, what's wrong with you?" said CN, teasingly.

"I'm just.....in the mood for a burger....is that ok?" I asked.

"Oh, but getcha a steak, now, come on," said his mom.
"You don't want a steak?" continued his dad, still amazed that I would want to eat something other than a steak. The man was seriously shocked, y'all. It was almost as if I'd told him I honestly believed the world was flat.

"But I don't want a steak. Am I allowed to get something other than a steak?" I whispered to CN.
"Of course you are. We just always get steaks. You can get a burger, too. But just pick up a steak. It will make my dad feel better," CN explained.
"You can take it home with you, it's no big deal. Just get both," his mother explained, under her breath.

As soon as I grabbed a steak, CN's dad seemed to feel a lot better. So when we ordered, I got a cheeseburger in addition to my steak.

Now, you might be thinking this is a really strange interaction. Why are three people telling a 28 year old woman what she should eat for lunch? That's absurd. And you would be correct in your beliefs. But I was strangely comforted by their insistence. Why? Because my father used to do the SAME THING to all of us when we were growing up. From the time I was in diapers, I would have to listen to his comments every time I ate:

"You're eating that? When we have leftover turkey? Oh, you should go get some of that turkey."
"Don't you want to put some pepper on that? You really should put some pepper on it."
"You're eating that all wrong. You can't put maple syrup on that. No one puts maple syrup on that. What's wrong with you? You are ruining it by putting maple syrup on it."

So I am used to having people tell me what I should eat/not eat and how to eat it "properly". I am also used to ignoring them and eating what I damn well please. :)

My dad died almost three years ago. I miss his food criticism. It was nice to hear it from someone. I like CN's parents. They are a lot like mine.

P.S. to Part 5

I just needed to add on a couple of things to MJ's most recent post (Part 5 of our trip to NYC & VT). So this will be short. If you haven't read her post, this won't make any sense to you. But it's important for you to know about these, so you can see just how ridiculous and hopeless I am.

The morning we left NYC for Vermont, I decided to travel in comfort, and wore a flimsy black skirt. We loaded ourselves down with suitcases and walked a few blocks to the subway station. It was kind of a breezy morning. I was following MJ & KT into a large intersection. This is when I learned a very important lesson about NYC:

Large intersections in NYC tend to be very breezy, so keep a hand free to hold your skirt down.

Of course, my hands were full of stuff, and so I was totally helpless when my skirt completely blew up, exposing my undies to the entire busy intersection. Great. This would only happen to me. I think approximately 563 people knew what kind of underwear I had on that day. Awesome.

Then we went down to the subway, where I learned another important lesson about traveling in NYC:

If you are carrying a suitcase on wheels through the subway turnstyle, PICK IT UP before you go through.

Still following MJ & KT, we got our subway cards and started to lug ourselves and our stuff through the turnstyles. MJ went through. KT went through. I got stuck. Somehow, I managed to get the handle of my suitcase wrapped around the turnstyle bar. Which was not moving, because I'd already swiped my ticket. And since we had all bought single-ride tickets, my ticket was now useless -- I'd already swiped it. I couldn't just hop back over the turnstyle and buy a new ticket, either--the turnstyles are very tall and designed to prevent people from jumping over them. I was in limbo -- neither forward nor backward could I go. I began to panic, because it was time to board the train and Rocky was going to shoot us if we were late, and I would be forced to spend the rest of my trip, crying, stuck in the subway turnstyle.

I look up, and MJ and KT have realized what is going on. They are struggling with the subway doors, getting yelled at for holding up the train. "Come on! What's wrong? Hurry up!" they yelled. "I can't ! I'm stuck!" I shouted back. Seeing that I was hopelessly stuck, they gave up, grabbed their stuff and hopped off. KT dropped something right as the doors were closing. That's when a nice lady on the subway tossed it to her right in the nick of time. (It was pretty cool, actually. Kind of like something from a movie. They had one chance and a 2 second moment to do it.)

Somehow, MJ untangled me. I still don't know how she got me unstuck, because I was lodged in there pretty good. She still doesn't know how I managed to get stuck in the first place. Again, something only I would do.

So just remember that turnstyles are not suitcase friendly. Pick up your suitcases, folks. And keep that hand free to hold down your skirt. Unless you're the kind of person who likes flashing busy intersections full of strangers.

NYC Trip, cont.

Um, I think this is part 4, but I'm not sure. The last installment is at MJ's though.

One thing MJ and I forgot to share was our token NYC Homeless Person moment. [Note: The taste of this post is in some question. I realize this isn't much different than most of my posts, but if you have a weak stomach or are easily offended, you might want to skip this part. Then again, if you are like that, why are you reading my blog? But I digress.]

MJ and I were waiting outside of a vitamin store while KT went inside to buy some dietary supplements or something. We were still drinking our coffee, I think, when a homeless woman walked up to us.

She had dried snot all over her face, and asked us--actually, it was more of a slurred request-- for money. It was pretty obvious she would use any donated cash for large quantities of alcohol or illegal drug purchases, so we said no. The homeless lady continued on down the street, veering all over the sidewalk. I went back to talking to MJ.

A few seconds later, MJ poked me in the arm, pointed in the direction of the homeless lady, and said, "Look!"

Dumbass that I am, I fell for it. I turned to look over my shoulder to see the homeless woman's ass. All of it. She was scratching it as she walked down the street. Then she yanked her pants back up.

After sarcastically thanking MJ for pointing that out to me, we continued on our way (I believe we were on our way to the Empire State Building??) with KT in tow. As we walked, MJ related a story that Rocky had told her about another homeless woman in NYC.

Apparently, Rocky had seen a homeless woman peeing in an alley or something, and he had been amazed at her technique. As most women know, peeing while standing up, for a woman, means you end up peeing all over yourself. So this little story will actually serve as a PSA for women without toilets everywhere. Keep this in mind for the next time you go camping, girls.

According to Rocky, this woman grabbed her ankles while peeing, causing her flow to project behind her in a totally horizontal way. Not only is horizontal pee apparently something amazing to behold, it's also a very effective way to avoid peeing on yourself.

I am not telling you this to gross you out. It plays a role in the Tale of Our Trip later on, I swear.

Alright, so where did MJ leave off? Oh yes, we met up with Rocky down near Ground Zero to give him his keys. Century 21 was a total zoo. Then we went to Canal Street for some shopping.

I was looking for this, or something similar (big, with a slouchy middle) only in a knock-off version. I found one, but the zipper didn't work. [Insert small cry here.]

After much hemming and hawing, I decided to get this one, since it looked like "me":



Ah, I'm a sucker for metallic leather....anyway, it's supposedly a Tod's knockoff, although I'm unable to find any image of an "official" Tod's bag looking even remotely similar to mine. In any case, it doesn't matter, because I love it.

Exhausted from shopping and walking all day, we headed back to Rocky's (via my favorite, the NYC Subway!!!) to meet up with him and his roommates for dinner. By the time the 6 of us were ready to go, we were starved. As we walked around Greenwich Village, searching for a good place to eat (translation: one on which we can all agree!), KT suddenly shrieked:

"PINKPUSSYCAT!!PINKPUSSYCAT!!PINKPUSSYCAT!!"

(See? I told you this post was in poor taste. Gah, I don't even want to think about the terms that will pop up on my statcounter now....*shudders*)

It turns out that KT loves this adult novelty store called The Pink Pussycat. We were saddened to see that it was closed, but we took a photo in front of it anyway. The guys stood and watched us get excited about this adult toy store. They were confused by our excitement over such a place. Huh? Were they serious? Men, lovers of all things sexual, didn't see what the big deal was about a sex store??? After some prying on our parts, it was determined that they did not realize there were items for them inside these places, and thought we liked the fuzzy bedroom slippers or something.

Um, not hardly. We decided to educate the guys about the joys of sex toy stores over dinner. They had almost no experience with sex toy/porn stores AT. ALL.

(File this under "Things I Did Not Know About Men"!)

Still starving, we needed to pick a place to eat. We decided to go to Tio Pepe's, a Spanish-Mexican place nearby. (Correct me if I'm wrong, MJ, but I think you can see our round table in the foreground of the first picture!) Everyone (but me, obviously) enjoyed their sangria and beer while we waited for our nacho appetizer.

Our $8 nacho appetizer.

Which had a grand total of 6 nachos on it.

"Good thing we're not hungry!" someone joked.

2 seconds later, those were gone. Feeling the pinch in my wallet at this point, I decided to order an appetizer for my meal to save money. "I'm on a diet, anyway, so it will be good if it's a smaller portion," I thought.

I got the most measly excuse for a quesadilla I've ever seen in my life. It was delicious, don't get me wrong. But the portion size? It wouldn't keep a mouse alive. Apparently in NYC, appetizers are far different from meals. They are called "tapas", which is Spanish for "you will starve". Unlike in SC, where "appetizer" means "a large, cheaper and possibly deep fried meal, disguised by a fancy name".

"Note to self," I thought.

To my left, MJ & KT were enjoying their gigantic, steaming bowls of $20 paella. "We're going to need to-go boxes," they told the waiter. "Dammit!" I thought. Oh well.

We headed back to Rocky's apartment to get ready to go out. Since there were 3 girls and only one bathroom, MJ decided to entertain herself with the xBox while I got ready. She found some strange Burger King game, and began playing it.

Little did she and I know that within a matter of seconds, we'd need many kleenex to sop up our tears of laughter. The game is a total riot. I made the mistake of watching her play while I brushed my teeth and almost snorted my Colgate. I wish I could show you all of the funny things MJ made The King do (like running around in tiny circles very VERY quickly), but I can't. So this video will have to suffice.



MJ and I want to buy an xBox now, JUST so we can play that game. I have rarely laughed so hard in my life.

Once we were all ready, we grabbed a cab and headed to....uh, Chinatown, I think. Or near it, anyway. All I know is, the street garbage was no longer magical to me. Now, it was magically revolting. I almost hurled twice, just walking around. I was so relieved when the guys led us into a bar.

Oh. Right back out again. Apparently, that bar was "dead". Kind of like the fish carcasses again surrounding me in the streets of Chinatown. I think the next bar was called Happy Endings. (I think that's the one with the bar in front and strip club in back???) Surprisingly, it was dead, too. Back outside. We did this about 3 more times until we found a packed place: Piano's. We immediately went upstairs, where there was a dj and a dancefloor.

Although it was too loud to do much talking, we still had a good time, dancing and goofing around. That is, until MJ said, "Uh oh. Those creepy guys are staring at us."

"I know," I replied.

"And we can't make eye contact with them, because then they will come over," she said. I nodded in agreement.

Luckily, Rocky showed up just as we were having this discussion. MJ informed him of our problem. Rocky turns to me and says, "Make out with me."

"Huh?" I asked.

"Just make out with me!" he said.

"Ok," I blurted, surprising myself at how easily I agreed to this idea. (Inner Slut???)

Unfortunately, my mouth made the decision without consulting my brain. My poor brain was caught totally off-guard and so was unable to send the "kiss the guy" command to my mouth. The only command it sent was, "Whaaaaaaa???" So instead of a mildly awkward and spontaneous make-out session between friends, it ended up being an extremely awkward, train wreck of a make-out session between friends. Like, I was 12 again, and didn't know what to do with my tongue. Or his tongue. And all I could manage to do was open my mouth and just sort of.....drool.

Oh. God.

I wanted a re-do, to be perfectly honest. I mean, usually I have a heads up and time to prepare. I swear to God, I know how to kiss! I'm a good kisser! That wasn't me!! That was....oh, God, I don't know what that was. That was possibly my worst, most awkward moment EVER. I was pretty much mortified.

But it worked. The creepy guys left. So, good call on Rocky's part. I guess I just needed a warm up or something.

It was one of those things where you'd give ANYTHING for it to be your little secret. But it's impossible, because you weren't the only person involved. And your friends saw it go down, too.

I had a hard time looking Rocky in the face for the rest of the trip, actually.

Ugh. Can we move on now? Thanks.

After partying there for a while, we left and went to another bar, next door to Rocky's apartment. MJ went to bed, but the rest of us stayed up and sang our group's unofficial theme song: "Don't Stop Believing" -- by Journey. Then Rocky and his roommate tried to find me a guy. They made some poor guy from Romania (I think?) talk to me. As if my night hadn't been awkward enough. He was cute, though, I gotta say. I think his name was Lothar or something equally unusual. Big, tall blonde guy. Mmmm. I like blondes. After some awkward small talk, he left. I turned to Rocky and his roommate.

"Thanks, guys, but I'm ok right now," I said.

"I'm just trying to help you get laid!" said Rocky.

"If you wanted to help me get some, you should have invited The Magician!" I said.

"Oh, he's in Maine," Rocky informed me.

*sigh*

Soon after that, we all went to bed. We had to be up early the next morning to catch a train. The NYC portion of our vacation was almost over. We were going to Vermont for the weekend, where we'd be meeting up with the rest of The Rat Pack.

Stay tuned, readers. Our next installment will use the following phrases:

"OMG! I'm a girl!"
"The Museum of Circles"
"road trip with Hitler"
"grab your ankles!"

and of course,
"Hey, Ahty, wanna go play some stickbawl?"

MJ, it's all you, girl.

NYC: Part 2 or, A View from the Top

Greetings, readers! MJ wanted me to do "Part 2" of our trip to NYC. I will try to remember everything I can without overlapping too much. We got into JFK around 10:30 or so, waited forEVER for a cab, and got to Rocky's apartment. It turns out I was wrong, thinking he lived in SoHo. He lives in Greenwich Village (or, if you are a New Yorker, "The Village"), right on the west end of Bleeker Street, which is only about a block from NYU and this landmark. (I took some pics of his street, I'll share them later.) This part of NYC is a big maze of streets, full of bars, little restaurants and a few shops. It's a neat neighborhood, full of those red brick, 5-story buildings I told you about in my last post. I was surprised at the number of people who were still out and about, on a Wednesday night. "Oh, right. The city that never sleeps," I thought.

Walking up the 2 flights of a beat-up stairwell (which had pink stairs and smelled very musty) we arrived at Rocky's apartment. It was surprisingly large. Well, except for his bedroom, which might have measured 8x6 -- if that. He calls it his "cubicle". Otherwise, the apartment is generous in size -- high ceilings, hardwood floors, large windows and a kitchen big enough to cook in. Not that the 4 bachelors living there ever used it. And we soon learned that having one bathroom for all of us was very challenging. Anyway, we basically arrived, dropped our stuff and went to a bar (Down the Hatch) with Rocky. Because we went out the night we got there, but wanted to have as full of a day as possible, we went to bed at about 2am and got up at about 7am. Ouch.

Apparently, someone awoke to this, since this pic was on MJ's camera:



This is Rocky, asleep on the floor of his apartment. One of us has placed a sticker on his butt. Tee hee. We were going to go to a Mets game with him the next day, but that idea fell through. We were stuck with shopping as an alternative activity. Bummer, right? ;)

So we got up and got out. The weather was fantastic -- sunny, mid-70s. First things first: we needed breakfast. Specifically, NY bagels with cream cheese. We headed over to the Waverly, a greasy spoon near NYU. (I don't think you are supposed to confuse this with The Wavery Inn Restaurant, which is very "schmeh schmeh" and owned by a Vanity Fair editor). Anyway, we had a nice, big breakfast, and I mistakenly didn't order a bagel with cream cheese. The best part about breakfast was the rumbling. "Um...is that an earthquake or something?" I asked. [Inside my head, I was thinking, "OMG! The building is FALLING DOWN and no one is panicking!!!! Just calm down, VB or you will expose yourself as a tourist! Ask MJ & KT calmly what the hell is going on."]

"No, that's the subway," MJ and KT replied, "There's a station right outside of this building."

"Really? It makes the whole building shake?" I asked, totally amazed. They nodded.

"WOW!" I replied. For the rest of breakfast, I grinned from ear to ear every time the rumbling happened. I just thought it was so cool. I knew I'd love the subway.

And I did! (See last post for why.)*

After breakfast, we got on the subway and headed over to the Empire State Building. Where we waited in line. For about 2 hours. Maybe longer? I don't know. It seemed to take forever. I almost told MJ that we can just forget about it and turn around and go, but I knew I'd regret it if we did.

I'm so glad we went up. The weather was perfect. Not even breezy. Check out the views!

Can you see Central Park in this one? It's behind some of the buildings, almost in the upper left hand corner of the picture.

I like this picture, because it's full of NYC cabs. We had one cabbie who had such a thick accent, I'm amazed we got where we wanted to go. None of us could understand this guy.

This is a shot of lower Manhattan. So we are looking south in this shot. The area where it looks like there's a "gap" in the skyline is where the Twin Towers used to be. I think. To the right is Jersey and to the left is Brooklyn.

Ok, you might have to click on it to get a better look, but The Flatiron Building is near the bottom center of this shot. LOVE that building. Did you know it's only 6 feet wide at the tip?

This is what you see if you lean against the observatory wall and look straight down all 86 floors. Wowza. Teeny tiny, huh? It was funny to me that you cannot really hear the cars from that height, but you could hear the sirens from the fire engines VERY well.

Do you see the Chrysler Building near the right-hand side of this shot? It's so beautiful. The Chrysler Company has never had its headquarters there. I thought that was interesting. It's just a big, shiny advertisement for the company.


By the time we were done with the Empire State Building, we were starved for lunch. Since we wanted to head over to Canal Street to look at designer knock-off accessories, we decided to stop for lunch on the way in Little Italy. We had lunch at one of the round, tableclothed (is that a word?) tables in the foreground of this picture. I could be wrong, but I think it was right on Mulberry Street. Although it was very touristy, I ordered a big bowl of tortellini in meat sauce, and let me tell you -- it was out of this world. I ate every bite. Full from our meatballs, eggplant and tortellini, we headed over to Canal Street to do some shopping in/near Chinatown.

Unfortunately, time flies when you're having fun. It was already mid-afternoon when we finished eating. Our day in NYC was almost over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alright, I'm going to stop here for now because A) MJ says my posts are ridiculously long, B) I'm sure I've inadvertently left stuff out, and so I will stop before I get too far ahead of myself, and C) I'm trying to use up a roll of film with more pics of NYC on it so I can share the pics at the same time I am telling the tales of NY/Vermont.

I know, I suck at pictures. I rarely remember to take them, and when I do, they are pretty lame. Yes, I am fully aware that I need to buy a digital camera. And take better pics. Sorry.

MJ, did I leave anything out so far???

* SUPER COOL COINCIDENCE: Ok, MJ rolled her eyes when I told her this, but I thought it was cool. I have been watching this documentary about the history of NYC. The other night, I finally got to the part where they build the subways. WHO do you think was the FIRST person to ride the NYC subway???? The mayor of NYC. No surprise, really, right? EXCEPT that he was a distant relative/ancestor of mine. Yup. (My dad's side of the family is from NY, and I recognized the name immediately. I didn't know he was mayor, either!) BUT WAIT! It gets WEIRDER: How about the FIRST place he got on the subway was THE SAME STREET where we stayed in NYC, and may have been the SAME SUBWAY STATION where I got on for the first time, too!!! Yet another one of my small world experiences.

(MJ, where did we get on after Waverly? Was it Bleeker???)

Country Mouse Goes to the City

I'm back! Well, actually, I think I died of utter and total exhaustion about 4 days ago, so I'm actually a zombie version of myself. I haven't had more than about 5-6 hours of sleep each day for a week now. A few nights, I was lucky to get 4. So "tired" doesn't really begin to describe it. At lunch today, I tried to heat up my hot pocket in my pantry cabinet, if that gives you any indication of what I'm like today.

Luckily, my good friend and traveling companion MJ has posted day #1 of our trip over on her blog. She did a very good job at summarizing it. So head on over there to see how the first day went. I'll wait.

Done? Ok, good. The only thing I would like to add is this: OMG I LOVE NYC!!!!

I seriously considered not coming home. (I am not kidding or exaggerating. I might really do it!) Now I understand how my Eccentric Aunt felt when she went abroad her junior year of college. She went to the UK and never came back. That was in about 1969.

Speaking of Europe, NYC reminds me a lot of Rome: old, crowded, dirty, full of amazing architecture and incredibly charming. It was love at first sight for me.

Today, I'm going to give you my general impressions of NYC. Then later this week, I'll get into the details of our trip.

I know it's Wednesday, but I'm going to do a Thursday 13 today. I am so exhausted from this trip that counting to 13 is about all I can do right now. New Yorkers who read this are going to get a kick out of this list, because the oddest, most mundane things were really interesting to me. Here goes:

Thirteen Things I Love/Hate About NYC

1. Magic Garbage -- At the end of the day, you can see all the garbage piling up outside of all the buildings. Some of the piles get really big and/or stinky (especially if you're in Chinatown -- I guess they sell a lot of fish down there??) . So when you're walking around at night, it can be kind of gross. At first, I asked, "How do they prevent raccoons from getting into the garbage?" And everyone snickered. "Um, this is New York. Raccoons are not native. There aren't any animals to get into the garbage," MJ explained. "Oh. Right," I mumbled. Duh, VB!! Ugh, I am such a country bumpkin. But the cool thing is, somehow, in a matter of only a few hours, ALL the garbage is GONE. It's like magic. And everything in NYC is cleared out, washed off and ready for a new day. I think that is so cool. NYC must have very hard-working garbage men. Or a very efficient system for dealing with all that garbage.

2. The Subway -- Everyone on the trip thought I was loony for liking the subway. But really, it was my ABSOLUTE favorite thing EVER. I could ride it all. day. long. Like a homeless person. (I guess that's what bums do -- they ride the subway all day.) Not only is it loud and fast (which reminds me of a rollercoaster, and makes me feel important and busy), it's also reasonably priced. I love the efficiency of it all. No matter where you need to go, there's a subway station only a few blocks away. You wait for the next train (which maybe takes 2 minutes), and you hop on and -- VOILA -- 5 minutes later, you're on the other side of town. It's like magic.

And the whole time, you are traveling with total strangers from any walk of life. For those brief moments, you are sharing an experience with them. An experience which you'll probably never talk to them about. This is so odd to me. (I know you can say the same thing about flying on an airplane, but somehow, this was different. Maybe because you never know where the other people will get on/off?) With every person I saw on the subway, I thought, "I will never see their face ever again. Even if I moved here, the chances of riding the subway with this person again are one in a zillion. Who are they? Where are they from? Where are they going today? Are they happy? Stressed? Homesick? Foreign? Broke? In love?" I would try not to stare as I studied them, trying to learn about them through their clothes, body language or the magazine they were reading. Yes, I know they are just normal people. But unlike Columbia, SC, where everyone is pretty much exactly the same, I could practically SMELL the variety of NYC every time I got onto the subway. (I'm sure New Yorkers who've ridden the subway with a stinky homeless person can say they have smelled it too -- har har.)

3. NYC Women -- I knew that as a world center for the fashion industry that I'd probably see a lot of killer clothes and outfits. And I did. They were just different from what I expected. NY women have an uncanny ability to throw together extremely stylish outfits. It would never occur to me to wear leggings with a sundress, long beaded necklace and a headband. Or a strapless green terrycloth dress with silver Birkenstocks. And to hear me describe these outfits, you might think, "Ew. That would look stupid." When in reality, they looked SO COOL. I could never master this technique of looking so casually put-together and fashionable, yet totally unique at the same time. It was hard not to take notes: "Flip-flops out, cheongsam in. Khakis out, skinny jeans in. Vests and cowgirl boots also in." I analyzed these women, almost like Jane Goodall studied chimps, trying to break down their outfits into their components or to try and define them. And you know what? I couldn't. They weren't preppy or trendy or bohemian or tailored or whimsical. Their outfits are totally undefinable. The best way I can describe it to you is that a lot of the women my age dressed like the Olsen Twins. (Then again, we spent a lot of our time in Greenwich Village, right near all the college girls at NYU, so this makes sense.) Lots of big sunglasses and gigantic leather purses--I really liked that those are in style right now. Lots of black leggings and those high-waisted "pregnancy" dresses. Headbands everywhere. Yet for each girl dressed like that, there were 15 who weren't. And those 15? Each was wholly unique. But everyone looked fabulous. I just wish I could imitate them somehow. I just can't figure out how!

In my fitted t-shirts and baggy jeans, I felt like a total dork. I kept getting my shirts dirty, and it's not like it's easy to run home and change your top. So I had to wear my lunch. And my jeans are baggy from losing weight, so they were not doing much for my figure. I must have looked like a total slob. Now that I'm back home, I'm convinced that Columbia is the black hole of fashion. *sigh*

Oh well. The good news is, when we got dressed up and went out to some bars, I got compliments on my favorite red dress and my silver clutch. At least I'm doing something right.

4. Speaking of going out in NYC, it's not very smoker-friendly up there. No smoking in bars or restaurants. No smoking near the entrances to bars or restaurants. No smoking in apartments, taxis or the subway. So if you want to smoke, you've got to be in motion, walking somewhere.

5. To further inhibit your nicotine addiction, cigarettes cost a whopping $7.50 per pack. Sometimes more than that. Now I know why my college friend would buy cartons before she got on the plane to go home to NJ for the holidays. It's double what smokes cost here.

6. But not everything is expensive. Across the street from where we stayed, there was a bodega (I LOVE that word) which sold coffee and bagels in the mornings. If you don't know what a bodega is, think of a quickie mart, only more cramped and part grocery store/liquor store/diner. They had sandwiches and regular "quickie mart" sort of items, too, but we LOVED that we could get good, hot coffee and a toasted bagel with cream cheese for about $3. The interesting thing to me was that they will put the sugar and creamer in your coffee for you. I guess this is to save time for busy New Yorkers on their way to work. I really appreciated it, especially since my hands were always full. "Why doesn't every place do this?" I thought.

7. I had a love/hate relationship with all of the walking. Imagine walking all. day. long. Then, walk some more. Just a few more miles to go! Ok, now do it with a big purse full of stuff and carrying lots of shopping bags. Do you see why everyone always carries a water bottle with them? And why they wear flat shoes? Yeah. It gets hot. And tiring. I think I saw maybe two overweight people while I was there. I honestly have no idea how anyone could ever get fat in that city with all the walking you do. I mean, yes, riding the subway can cut out a lot of it, but sometimes, you have to walk 10 blocks to get to the subway. And of course, a cab can take you anywhere you want to go. But it will cost you.

So, if you're broke like me, you do a lot of walking. I credit the walking with the fact that I didn't gain any weight while we were there. And I have to say, there's no better way to get a feel for the city than walking its streets. You can take the time to window shop, study the architecture, people watch and think. It's probably the most entertaining walking I've ever done. There is no shortage of things to see, smell or hear. "Sensory overload" doesn't begin to describe it. If I ever move there, I'm going to walk every single street in Manhattan, just like Caleb and Thomas did. It would be my new hobby. (Notice how Caleb is a librarian? I thought that was pretty cool.)

8. I also spent a lot of time waiting in lines. There were lines for taxis at the airport, the Empire State Building, in the clothing stores and for some of the bathrooms. There are just....a TON of people. People people people as far as the eye can see. Manhattan alone has about 8 million people on the little island. That is almost 3 times the entire population of Ireland. There's over 26,800 people per square mile. Think about how many freaking people that is. There are about 25,000 students at Indiana University, where I went to college. In NYC, that entire, huge campus would have to fit into ONE mile. Wowza.

We noticed how, even at 1am on a Sunday night, Grand Central Station was still full of people. The good news is, you're never alone. The bad news is, sometimes you want to be alone. And unless you make big bucks, you're going to have roommates. So I'm curious to know how/when New Yorkers can be alone. Or is being an anonymous face on the street enough for them? Do they just find a quiet spot in Central Park? I get stressed when I cannot be alone ever. This would be an issue for me if I lived in NYC.

9. I was amazed at how many people had dogs. And I saw people with big dogs, multiple dogs and old dogs. And it wasn't just a few dogs I saw. I saw LOT AND LOTS of dogs. French bulldogs were especially popular. As a dog owner, I can tell you, owning a dog requires a certain amount of personal sacrifice -- you have to drop what you're doing and go home to let the dog out. And in the city, you have to pick up the dog poop, too. Ick. Not my favorite job. So it's amazing to me how many NYers are willing to do this. Perhaps they live near where they work? I know they have dog walkers sometimes, but that is expensive. They can't all have dog walkers. But it's good to know there are lots of animal lovers in "The City" and that it wouldn't be out of the question to take Sammy & Toby with me if I went.

10. My other favorite thing about NYC was the architecture. I think this trip has actually given me the building bug-- I want to learn so much more about architecture now. It plays such a role in the history of an area. The "City that is so cool, they named it twice" had a huge population boom in the 19th century, so you can see a ton of buildings from that era everywhere you go. They generally look like this building--red brick, 5 stories, fire escapes, long narrow windows. But NYC has its fair share of new buildings, too, especially in lower Manhattan. I was surprised at the amount of new construction going on throughout the city. Imagine buildings as far as they eye can see, the vast majority of them being absolutely beautiful. Being the complete nerd that I am, I completely geeked out before going--watching a documentary history of the city, reading my travel guide cover to cover-- so that I'd know what I was looking at when we were walking around the city. As we walked around, every so often, I'd interject, "Hey, guys, did you know that's the such-and-such building? And that so-and-so built it because of blah blah? Yeah, it's the something-est building in the whole city!" and everyone would turn and look at me, with facial expressions that could only be saying, "Um. Ok, VB. Whatever."

Sometimes I'm amazed I have friends.

11. One of my least favorite things about the city was how dirty it was. I had no idea it would smell so bad or be quite so dirty. The airport (JFK) was filthy. The streets, like I said, were really gross at night. The stairwells were musty and dirty. The subway wasn't too bad, but it did make you want to bust out the hand sanitizer when you got off. I do think this is something I'd get used to. And having lots of little parks scattered all throughout the city really helps to break up the seemingly endless dirty, concrete blocks.

12. While New Yorkers are very nice, can be chatty and even helpful, they are the kind of people who you'd have to ask in order to get some assistance. You won't see people holding doors open for you. You won't see anyone giving up their subway seat for a pregnant woman. And if you're carrying something heavy, you won't get any help lugging it up or down stairs. This was kind of weird to me, as I don't think I've touched a doorknob in public in about 3 years. Ok, I'm exaggerating. But you know what I mean. I almost began to look around for the Southern Gentleman to fall from the sky and save the day.

Although I didn't much like it, I didn't take it personally. First of all, everyone is in a hurry. As a fast-paced walker myself, I can understand this. Secondly, there is an incredible amount of independence in New Yorkers, so they are the kind of people who expect you to carry your own weight. Third, in a city where you're surrounded by total strangers day in and day out, it can be dangerous to have interactions all the time. It's a good way to get mugged or duped by a con artist. It's safer to just mind your own business. So this is another thing that would take getting used to on my part.

13. Probably the most amazing thing about NYC is that it has everything. There is no shortage of cultures, activities, restaurants, neighborhoods, stores, events, interesting museums, crazy homeless people or delivery options. You want it? You got it. You could spend the rest of your life, just in Manhattan, experiencing something new every single day.

I never thought a city could ever possibly top Rome, Italy. But I think New York may have just reached the top of my list of Most Favorite Places.

Except for the whole no smoking thing. THAT got old.