Other People's Dirt

I have never been known as a "neat" person. Dirt really doesn't bother me in the slightest. In high school I was infamous for my room, where you could not see the floor for all the clothing strewn about. So you can imagine my surprise when after my recent move I discovered my extreme distaste for what I deemed "other people's dirt" (henceforth known as OPD).

I have, of course, encountered OPD in my life. I've lived in a total of three NYC apartments before buying this one, each coming with their own bits of dirt and grossness. However, the first two apartments had a definite sense of transience to them, as we were on year-long leases, and I don't think any of us thought of those apartments as long-term homes. Then, when I left the roommate-situation to live with my then-boyfriend/now-husband in his digs, all OPD was replaced by his dirt, which I could handle. But now in our Jackson Heights home, I was horrified by all the OPD I encountered.

We didn't have any down time between moving and closing, so we immediately started sleeping on an air-mattress while painting. I didn't like being on the floor and that close to OPD. While my husband primed every room in the apartment from it's neon hues, I started attacking the bathroom and then the kitchen with a bleach based spray, ridding all surfaces I could find of OPD so that it would be okay to shower/use the toilet/cook/store food. This involved removing all the shelves from all of the cabinets and scrubbing all of the hinges. Removing the (only two) drawers and scrubbing them inside and out. After I had done, my husband glanced under the sink and remarked that he had never seen under a sink look so clean. I refrained from remarking that was because under the sink at his apartment was kind of gross... especially because it had been my apartment too.

Now that the apartment feels more like "ours", and we've painted every vertical surface in the place, I don't really worry too much about Other People's Dirt. Though it's probably out there, lurking in corners and by molding. Perhaps tomorrow I will pull out the vacuum and start with the crevice tool...

Is it judgemental to think a stripper looks like one or: Roosevelt Island- Looks like Ithaca or small European town?

Today I was at a seminar @ 67th between York and 1st. Instead of taking the subway at 68th home and having to switch, I decided to take a little walk to the 59th street stop and get a straight shoot home. On my way down 1st avenue, as I looked at menus of promising restaurants and enjoyed the first beautiful day of summer I noticed a woman dressed quite unlike pretty much everyone else. She was wearing black fishnets, black knee-high boots and hotpants-- I swear, though I had never seen anyone wear hotpants in public (well, for full disclosure or in private) before. And of course, the first thought in my head was the quite judgmental "wow, what is she a stripper or something?" Not two minutes later we rounded the corner onto 60th street and she walked into Scores. It was kind of impressive.

Walking over to 2nd Avenue I looked up and realized that I have never taken the Roosevelt Island Tram before. I like to pride myself on doing all those low-cost or free NYC experiences, but this is one I have not gotten to experience yet. Having recently moved to Jackson Heights, I can now take the F train home-- which just happens to stop on Roosevelt Island. Being pretty sure that the tram was a metro card ride (it was!) I started up the stairs and waited for the tram to appear. It came pretty quickly, and I found a nice place to stand. I looked at the guy standing next to me, and I smiled. He said hi to me and then I realized it was my oncologist! I made small talk for the trip as I looked at the beautiful city views. It turns out that the good doctor lives on Roosevelt Island! I asked him to direct me towards the subway and he asked if I was going to look around. He showed me the new rental building that was built and his building (condos). Then he offered to show me the view from the roof! I made my excuses and left, but decided to take Dr. C's advice and take a walk around the one street that exists on Roosevelt Island and look at the pretty views of Manhattan, the East River, and of course, my beloved homeland of Queens.


As I walked, I felt like Roosevelt Island looked a lot like Ithaca.
Granted, I never spent too much time in Ithaca, NY, except to go to the Haunt and for other occasional forays outside of lovely Geneva, NY. But, for some reason the feel of Ithaca started to fade, and Roosevelt island began to feel something like a small European town.

Which means one of two things: 1)I am crazy, and Roosevelt Island feels like neither of these things or 2) Ithaca feels like a small European town. You can discuss that among yourselves.

Alas, gentle reader, this is not the end of my adventure for the day. As I finished walking around Roosevelt Island, I came upon a small park with those sprinklers going off in them for young NYC children to play in so they don't feel the need to ruin fire hydrants. As I was walking past, contemplating the waste of water that these urban tools create, I found myself being gently dropped on with water. Amazed at the distance the gentle sprays of water from the sprinklers get, it took me a while to catch on that it was actually raining. Thunder started crashing and lightning was flashing and I got my jog on towards the nearest shelter. I braved a little bit of wet, stopped at Roosevelt Island's very own Starbucks to score myself a Marshmallow Crispy Treat (I have a slight obsession with Rice Krispy Treats, no matter what they're called) and hopped on the train home.

I love New York adventures, even in all their silliness.

heart shaped tub

Joe and I are discussing what to do for our impending one year anniversary. In a fit of nostalgia for 80s commercials we started talking about heart shaped tubs and champagne towers, and how perhaps a touch of kitsch would be a great way to celebrate our first year of happily wedded bliss. So as we spend this evening researching hotels with the requisite bathing vessels, let me share with you the fruits of our labour. Sadly, at this point, the idea of spending $500+ a night for the experience of a heart shaped tub and a celestial ceiling is seeming less and less realistic.

Exhibit A:
Exhibit B:


Exhibit C: Hilarious Article from The Denver Post.com I totally recommend reading all the way through to the end. The FAQs are quite possibly the best part.

And of course, please visit the Pocono's Caesars Resorts main site The virtual tours are wonderful. Then you can take a deep breath, sigh, and mourn the fact that Joe and I will likely not be spending our second honeymoon soaking in a champagne tub at an all inclusive resort with a night show (oh my god, it would be just like Dirty Dancing!!).

almost a year

Yeah, I'm planning on really starting up again- no cancer, no wedding and frankly, not much to do this summer (whoo!). So I'm going to start blogging again- for real. But for now you're going to look at the results of stupid quizzes I've taken and like it.