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Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Random moments in Manhattan




We love going into the City, yeah that is what we cool, hip New Yorkers call it, the City. No need to explain what city,there is no other, just the City.

Any time we have the opportunity to go in, we do and try to see a show or whatever. I love to be there and hope to retire there someday. Like when someone drops 4 million dollars in my lap so I can buy the brownstone I want near my favorite place, Milk and Cookies.

Or the cardboard box I have subletted in Alphabet city. My tenant the Homeless guy with the dog said I can have it back anytime I need as long as I call first so he can go back to his estate in West Palm Beach.

So everytime we go in there is always a story of some sort and some of them are kind of funny.

I think I may have told some of them already, but you know the Mad Cow... I am sorry if this is repetitive....

Walking from Grand Central Station to our hotel on Thanksgiving weekend, people are honking at each other as we walk down the street, D3 turns around and says, Hey do I have a sign on my back that says Honk If I'm Pretty. funny kid huh?

D1 and I go in for something, maybe when we went to see Wicked before she left for college or maybe a doctors appointment, not sure which, we are on the subway heading somewhere where we arent sure where to get off when we get to a stop and D1 says I think this is it... I am not sure... wait let me check she says and before I can stop her she jumps off the subway, I hesitate for just a second and the door closes and she is on the platform and I am on the train and I am laughing and freaking out at the same time.

The train pulls away and I get off at the next stop but cell phones dont work in the subway so I have to leave the station to call, I dont know should i go back, should i wait for her there, will she know to get on the next car or will it even be going this way. Surprisingly I was not as panicked as I should have been but she did get on the next subway, and in the millions of people getting on and off the subway she saw my ridiculous curly hair and we met up laughing the whole way. Thank god this was only like 2 years ago and not when she was 6.

Not funny story, we go into the city for the Parade, yeah we call the Thanksgiving Parade, the parade because there is no other. So we go in and we are heading toward the hotel and there are a million people and we have 4 kids and at least 4 bags because we are staying over. We buy metrocards to get through the subway... we start going through and D3 pushes the bar but doesnt go through so now we cant use the metrocard again and we are stuck in a million people and we cant get the bags through the turnstile and Hubby decides to push D3 through with him.. Needless to say there is no cop around when we needed help with the four kids, bags, crazy new yorkers pushing... but as soon as they committed a CRIME....they swarmed. So they pull him over like a criminal and here is the catch... He doesnt have a wallet because he had lost it the week before picking D1 up at a conference in DC. So he has no ID and the cops are not happy and we are standing there among the millions of tourists like criminals with the cops trying to explain and they are being cop assholes and I walk over to show my ID and start to reach into my pocketbook and you know this is not long after September 11th and I do look a lot like a terrorist so they scream in my face, step back and take your hand out of your bag. And I am like, no no no I am trying to....Mam, step back this is not your concern... um wait did you just call me mam because those are fighting words... call me princess... so in any case, they actually held him there and humiliated him, the girls were crying, and they wrote him a ticket for fare jumping and i dont know walking around without ID. It almost killed the day.. but lucky for us I am so on when these things happen and my stream of anti cop, pig jokes lasted for days.

Another time we were in for the parade and we decided to go see Rent, the movie. We go to Starbucks and get coffee and cookies and since Hubby NEVER checks to see if things are made with nuts although he frequently has to go to the hospital when he eats them...he eats a cookie that apparently had nuts. So we head to the movies and his throat is closing up and he says I will be right back after we are seated in the movies. what? where the heck are you going? just down to the rite aid for benedryl.. I know why dont I carry it with me since he or D4 is forever sneezing or having their throat close up.

So he leaves and comes back eventually and says he is feeling a little better. Then he falls fast asleep in the movie, the result of taking mass doses of benedryl. At the end of the movie I wake him up but I cant really fully wake him and he is walking with his eyes closed. here is the problem.... I have no idea where we are, it is 2 in the morning and it is snowing. I am asking him Hubby, where do we go to get back to the hotel and he is in a stupor, barely walking, dragging himself down the street. I am sure that is when we first learned of D4's mad direction skills and I think at 9 years old she got us back to the hotel.

One day we were accidentally in the city on the day of the St. Patricks Day parade. It was the 16th of March not the 17th but apparently if the 17th is on a Sunday, it is too holy a day to drink until you fall down so you celebrate the day before. We went in to see Les Miserables just me and hubby. We took the train and no joke people were so drunk at 11am they couldnt walk. People were so drunk they were sitting on the steps to the library to watch the parade. yeah the parade doesnt even go that way... we laughed pretty hard about that one.. anyway... we get out of the show and we walk down 8th Ave to get back to Penn Station. dont ever do that, by the way. And people are asking us if we want crack and we are politely refusing... no thanks I say often until hubby is looking at me like just be quiet and ignore them but of course that would be rude... so no thank you i would not like to buy half a kilo of cocaine but thanks for asking... so we get home and on the news is breaking news story... shooting at the Academy bar on 8th ave.... um what... Yeah we apparently walked right by while the shooting of the Black 47 guitarist was taking place. Oh St. Patricks Day in the city... we never did that again.

Unfortunately I have to go now and I have some more stories about the city, like when D4 got us seats on the subway by sneezing and coughing on all the people or the best alien birthday D2 ever had at Mars... I will be back to blog about this stuff probably tomorrow when I should be listening to my audio files from my cheyenne class.

Tata for now. yeah that is what we cool new yorkers say when we leave. Tata...

Monday, January 19, 2009

Blogging Rampage



Yeah I am on a blogging rampage because I start school Tuesday and I will be blogging for procrastination instead of just for fun and games.

so that is why i have been excessively blogging over the last few days.



it will all come to a crashing hault.

soon.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

PS I hate you


OK so last night D3 and D4 and D3's boyfriend and I decided to watch a movie. Our choices were Crash, The Wedding Singer and PS I love you. I know, I know you are thinking wow what quality choices.

So Crash is rated R and I couldnt remember exactly why so I thought maybe we shouldnt find out and really we have seen the Wedding Singer about a billion times so since PS I love you wasnt even open yet and D3's boyfriend had never seen it either we opted for that one.

The movie starts out with Hilary Swank, whom I do not really care for, married to this adorable Irish Guy with a really cute accent.

I am about to ruin the movie so if you didnt see it and want to, and I wouldnt recommend that, stop reading now. Step away from the computer.

So you get really attached to this adorable irish guy in a short time and poof, he is dead. Of a brain tumor. I dont think I have gone into too much detail about this but I was diagnosed with a brain tumor about 2 years ago and I am supposed to be having it looked at every 6 months and yeah well I got busy so its been over a year and lets say it doesnt make me happy or entertain me at all to watch someone dead of a brain tumor.

So over the next year the dead husband sends letters to her from the grave with instructions on how to live her life and ...

ok to be completely honest, me, D4 and D3's boyfriend all fell asleep watching this movie. Only D3 liked it and we took turns whispering loudly, this movie sucks and this is so boring through our sleeping stupor. I realize that it is hard for anyone to accept the opinion of someone who has slept through a majority of the movie but honestly, if the movie had not sucked so bad I wouldnt have even been sleeping through it.

The movie went on way too long and in between my sleeping on and off and pretending I wasnt I realized it was devastating. The idea that you can lose someone so quickly to a terrible illness and then for the next year he contacts you from the dead and guides you on your way through grief and moving on. In the end she meets someone new, Denny from Grays Anatomy and apparently will be hooking up with him after she realized that she does not like Harry Connick Jr who is a weird freak in this movie. It seems like this is what her husband had planned for her.

So it was boring, too long, and seriously devastating. The kids warned me not to watch it like I was a little kid avoiding a terrifying clown scene.

Mom really dont watch it D4 said. You are gonna cry.

No I wont.

Yeah mom this is sadder than the Notebook.

Oh god, nothing can be sadder than the notebook. Nothing, not ever, not no how.
Except maybe Old Yeller.

Yeah mom this is.

I dont really think it was, it could have been but it was so stupid that the sadness of it dissapeared in my complete lack of caring about anything except when the brownies would be done.

I explained the movie to Hubby and he said why you wouldnt want me to do that for you if I knew I was dying?

Of course I would I said. But dont go dying on me anytime soon because you know... not enough life insurance really.

Yeah I am not going anywhere he says.

Lets hope not because I wouldnt even have enough money to live in a cardboard box in Alphabet City.





and the reason I am going to hell is this...

all i could think of doing if i knew i was dying was getting revenge. i would spend the last days of my life writing letters all right but to all the people who have wronged me.

I would make sure that every person who ever pissed me off received a letter from me after I died with every detail of how they made my life miserable. I would say things like... and now everytime something goes wrong in your world know that it is me controlling it from the grave. On every bad day know that I am up in heaven or in purgatory, whatever moving your keys, letting air out of your tires and using your toothbrush to clean the toilets.




Yeah that is what pushes me over the edge from general lunatic to completer maniac. That is what solidifies my place in hell and prevents me from winning the lottery.

Instead of spending my last days with my loved ones I would spend my last days reliving my revenge against old boyfriends, old friends and you know maybe some family in there.

I would create an elaborate plan alright but it would all be for evil.

that is just the kind of girl I am.

My cupboard is pink with polka dots

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kAIpRRZvnJg

check this out and comment if you want.

A final moment for goodbye

On Thursday afternoon we had just arrived for D4's MRI when we saw the news of the plane crash into the Hudson River in New York. It was terrifying at first because anytime you see a plane crash in NY you think... terrorism.

When they first said it was a flock of geese, I was skeptical. New Yorkers have a tendency to make crap up to cover up the fact that terrorists sent that plane into the Hudson. But as time went on it seemed like a possibility that terrorists could have trained the geese to fly into the plane. Ok maybe not but the geese thing is even more terrifying than terrorists because how the hell can you avoid a flock of geese(or a flock of seagulls)for that matter. Unless you move out of the 80's, which of course, blue mascara and all I am not ready to.

I digress.

The point is... you are taking off from NY and the pilot says, Brace yourself for a rough landing. People on board said when they saw the stewardess panic, so did they. They interviewed people who said they prayed and people who were just giddy to be alive. As always New Yorkers rose to the occasion and there were many cases of bravery and selflessness.

What do you think about in that moment that you are taking off on a plane from NY and you know you are crashing? What goes through your head as you think this may be the last moment I have on Earth?

I know what you dont think about. You dont think, well I am so glad I didnt have that piece of cake last week because now I will die with thinner hips.

You dont think, thank god I spent 12 hours cleaning my house instead of cuddling with my kids because now I will die with a clean house.

You dont think wow, thank goodness I spent 80 hours at work this week because I will die knowing those papers were filed correctly.

You think of regrets, of time lost and people you wish you had another moment with. You yearn for one more minute to say what never got said and hold your loved ones one more time.

As a mother I cannot imagine that feeling of knowing I would never see my kids again and they would never see me. I cant imagine the pain you feel knowing you are leaving before you get the chance to see them grow up and get married and have kids of their own.

And leaving your spouse alone to handle it all without you. Knowing he has vowed to never love another woman as long as he is alive.

Knowing that your parents will have to bury their child. No parent should ever have to see that.

I felt sick when I saw that plane crash. I felt like I was on that plane. I saw the fear in the faces of those people getting off and I wanted to hug them.

Yet somehow, they all lived. They all got off that plane OK. How does that happen? And why? Were those people just given a second chance? Is this a wakeup call for those 155 survivors of a NYC plane crash?

And will they see the sign? And will they change anything?

Will you when your wakeup call, your second chance comes your way?

Will you?