No Big Red Heart for NY Transportation

Needing a taxi from Mid-town to Brooklyn, I told the first taxi driver who stopped that I had the address and the cross-street. He asked if I knew how to get there?

“No.”

Out the taxi I go. Story of my life.

Needing a taxi from Mid-town to Brooklyn, I told the second taxi driver who stopped that I had the address and the cross-street. He asked if I knew how to get there?

I learned my lesson the first time, so standing on the sidewalk, I told the driver through the passenger window, “No.”

On the sidewalk I remained.

Needing a taxi from Mid-town to Brooklyn, I told the third taxi driver who stopped that I had the address and the cross-street. He asked if I knew how to get there?

I learned my lesson the second time, so I told the driver matter-of-factly, “Yes.” In the taxi I went.

Once we made it across the bridge, he asked me which way to go.

“Roll down your window and ask that guy on the sidewalk.”

Thirsty?

For another story of my life? Read this.

Baby Rumors (Mine)

Rumor 1: I went to inhale my favorite muffin last week, the oat bran edible wonder at Firehook Bakery. I enjoyed parts of it solo, parts of it dipped in ice coffee, all while reading my monthly alumni magazine (and getting it wet).

As I was getting up from the table to leave, one of the (male) cashiers said, “So did you have a girl or a boy?”

I heard him perfectly, so I said, “Whattt??”

“Oh, I guess I thought you were someone else…I’m sorry.” (said with an Oops… look on his face)

Not as sorry as I am for just having a carb-o-licious muffin. Story of my life. And he is someone who flirts with me (not tooting my horn – swear – if you could see him you’d understand) every time I frequent the shop (say once a week).

That day, I apparently looked post-natal. Yippie.

Rumor 2: I went to the dentist this morning. The hygienist said I was due to have the bite-wing X-rays. Ok, fine (rob me unnecessarily). As she held up the X-ray protection smock to lay over me (they can do the x-ray in the chair at this fancy-fancy place), she said, “Now is there any chance that you could be pregnant?”

“No,” I said aloud, “you f’ing bitch,” added internally.

This day, I apparently looked like I could be with child (or was overly sensitive to a routine question).

Looming misfortune of my life: Pregnancy rumors and I haven’t even kissed someone in X#*!@ months.

Olive Oil Clogged My Muse

But now I'm back from the land of tzadiki and feeling thinky (and hungry for the taste of Opa!).

Grape leaves for breakfast and other insights of an alumnus. Muse on.

Air Kisses with Salman Rushdie

Normally when authors come to speak where I work, I get a photo with them cheek-to-cheek. But when authors have formally had a fatwa (religious edict calling for someone to be killed) aimed at them, I like to keep a bit of a distance. Salman Rushdie, I thought you were great; please don’t take it personally.

Thoughts on my new hair color??

Oh Deer

I was walking back to Jackie-land (my stu-stu studio) at around 9:30 pm on Sunday night in DC – when all of DC is tucked away in apartments and condos most likely larger than mine. I’m only a five minute walk from the metro, but much of the sidewalk I tread to get home is lined with bushes on one side.

Bushes can be scary at night, especially if you’re a woman.

I walked passed one guy who seemed sketchy, after which I was slightly on edge and hypersensitive to sounds around me.

Just before my apartment building, there’s a mini-forest that leads into Rock Creek Park. This is cute during daylight hours but freaks me out at night.

As I’m walking past said forest, I hear a rustling in the trees. So, like any good potential victim, I stop (instead of continuing to walk at a brisk pace) and try to see the cause of the noise.

Deer.

Three of them. (Well, maybe two, but it was dark and I was scared).

Deer, just steps away from Connecticut Ave. in the middle of a major city. Yowsa.

The deer and I made eye contact. Their antlers were huge, so I pondered if I was staring at reindeer.

Then, fear found me and concern, too, that the deer would want to eat me. So, I ran as fast as I could to the front doors of my apartment building to the tune of a, “Please don’t eat me. Were those reindeer?? Please don’t eat me. Please.” internal chant.

I’m a yogi. I chant.

Then I called my mom to tell her that I thought I could have been eaten by deer. Story of my life. She told me she had to run to the supermarket before it closed because she was dying for a Hershey bar. Story of her life.

I Found My Hair Twin

Here she is. Now if only I had her waistline.

And nose. Story of my life.