Fettucini...

So you may recall a few months ago I posted a blog called "The Princess of Soho?". It was about the newspaper guy on my way to work who spouts out many words to me, most of which I don't understand, and when I do they are often insulting. Well he is still working the corner, and I am still working that job. So I've grown accustomed to the gibberish I don't understand and can recognize his old standby, "I lika you eyes." He may 'lika my eyes', but he still thinks I'm a large woman. Once again he threatened to bring me dresses from his home, and protested again when I said I wear a size 8. He corrected me, "no...10!" What is this man doing with all these dresses at home, and why does he want to give them to me? Well beyond those precious moments we finally hit a new level this week. When I passed him yesterday he mentioned something about cooking as he handed me my paper. I thought he was asking if I like to cook. I mentioned that I am not particularly skilled at it, no. Then he said something about his friend, and how I should call him, and something about...fettucini? I figured he must have a friend who works in a restaurant and he must make good fettucini, perhaps he wanted me try it. "No!" he said. I tried to clarify, certainly he was speaking about a restaurant of some sort. "No!" he replied....and I couldn't make out any other meaning from the repetition of him saying something about calling this man....and...fettucini. So I said "okay..." and walked away in the same cloud of confusion as always. I looked down at the paper and saw that he wrote this man's number out, with his first and last name....and next to it he wrote the word "fettucini". So do I call this man and tell him I heard about his fettucini? Is fettucini some code word for a drugs? Is he using a new petname he has given me and I just don't understand he is actually saying "FATtacini??" Is this man on the corner some mystical matchmaker that lures in your true love via random pasta code words. I really have to call this number.

Ziplock Oatmeal and Tongue Lips?

I saw a man eating oatmeal out of a ziplock baggie on the subway this morning, with a plastic fork. Now, I gotta hand it to this guy on one hand, because I hate carrying around my plastic container all day after I have eaten oatmeal on the go. I didn't see a man-purse on him, so this is a very logical choice. But...a plastic fork? Everyone knows you eat oatmeal with a spoon! It was amusing to watch as he forged into every nook and cranny to fish out all the clumpy clumps that stuck to every inch of the bag...sometimes squeezing it out like toothpaste.

This was all happening just inches away from a man who looked like he was sitting there sleeping with his tongue half sticking out in between his lips. I instantly caught a glimpse of him just as a tiny boy sidled over towards him to grab onto the pole on that seat. The man's "tongue" startled the boy who immediately let go of the pole and jumped as far away from him as he could. I watched as the boy stared from a far, trying to make sense of this. I did as well. Is this the man's relaxed state? Had his coffee been too hot and he had burnt the poor thing? Every once in a while the small boy would get as close as he could until he grew frightened again and would dart away. Shortly after the boy and his family left the train we were nearing this man's stop. Only I would notice, as he opened his eyes and saw me stealing glances, that his "tongue" was actually just the inner edge of his bottom lip, which was more pink in color against his darker skin. I hope he didn't think we had a "missed connection".

Tiny Dancer

I had just stepped onto the uptown N train platform below Union Square. I was joining a few others, but it wasn't too crowded, so the wait would not be long. A small woman, wrapped in Muslim sheathes, was playing a synthesizer on the opposite platform. I am calling it a synthesizer because this looked like one of the originals. I mean, the keyboard was so large it nearly hid her entire body. Having finished a tardy, if not spirited rendition of Joy the the World over a week after Christmas, she began the familiar notes to "Fur Elise". Just then, the scrawny homeless man who slid under the turnstile before me approached and appeared to check the time on the digital clock hanging above. Suddenly he began attempting to reach it, as there was a sticker of some sort that he felt it was necessary to remove. The sticker on the clock was just barely in reach and he could only rip it off in tiny strips. He stood on his tip-toes and balanced himself by allowing his free arm to circle himself. It almost fluttered gracefully like a ballerina's port de bra. Having scraped off another strip, he switched arms and popped back up on the toes and proceeded to circle the other arm several times just the same. He repeated these moves several times even as the train came and I left on it. Had Beethoven's gentle melodies overtaken him? For what reason did he feel it vital to remove that darn sticker? To what do we owe his elegance and delicate artistry? More importantly, when can I see it again?

"The Princess of Soho"?

There are many opportunities to meet random people on the streets of NYC. I definitely have met my fair share of them and am no stranger to undulging in fleeting encounters with strangers, especially since I have spent ample time passing out free samples and such out there. I have learned a lot from these interactions and mostly have fully enjoyed them, but every now and again they can encourage you not to be so friendly.

I've recently been temping at an office in Soho where I pass a newspaper man on the corner. We have always had strange interactions, basically since I am not stopped to speak with him, and he speaks in a really thick accent I can't really understand, and he often hands me something for free. The first time was just an ad insert to the paper, something that normally falls out on the floor of the subway that just irritates you. This baffled me. He has handed me an actual paper a couple times. He sometimes tries to speak with me but we never quite connect as I am in a rush, and it always leaves me feeling weird. I was starting to warm up to our weird relationship until the day he handed me a free pass to get into a night club that weekend. Now he seemed skeevy, trying to promote these side businesses and soliciting to people who aren't even stopping to support the business he is there for.

The day before Christmas Eve I was rushing past, just after 9am...clearly late for work, and he starts attempting to converse again as I stopped to wait for the light. Soon the late changed and I was stuck there as he handed me an envelope he dug out...and begun to say that he had a dress for me...and asked what size I was. Stunned and confused I attempted to answer him when he said "...eh...what size? You are large, right?". I am not sure what I said as I was just entirely confused all around and had no interest in getting this dress from him anyway when he promised he would bring it for me tomorrow.

So once again I walked away from this man amused and perplexed and only a tad offended that he just called me "large". As I entered my office, much later now, I opened my envelope to find a Xmas card. Did he have several of these prepared to hand out to the strangers he connects with that day? Had he originally intended to hand ME this specific card? No, I thought, he just had some pre-written ones to spread random cheer. Was there going to be a flyer for a club inside? A coupon for a sample sale? Surely there must be some other motive. All I found inside was a card with several of the possible holiday messages scrawled inside, and it was written "To The Princess of Soho". It took me by surprise and suddenly I felt horrible for thinking anything irritating about him. Suddenly I felt like a princess! Only I still wasn't 100% sure he hadn't just written out a few of those to hand to any of the ladies he sees. But it made me smile, and even more grateful that I tend to indulge these random encounters, even if it is only half-heartedly sometimes.

Apathy and Human rights...

There are some that feel that negativity in any form is harmful. I know people who don't wish to hear about the horrible things happening in the world. Not because they don't care or don't have compassion...but because they have too much. I know people who believe that you get what you focus on and, therefore, choose not to listen to or focus on atrocities that occur in the world around them. They would rather focus on and perpetuate good. I would as well. But there are some things that just don't even feel real...until you hear about them from someone whether you want to or not. And while I don't think they need to be focused on, I think they need to be acknowledged, because they are happening. Now. Not 1000 years ago. They are happening now, and we should acknowledge them as if they are happening to those we love, because they may as well be. I have no idea what my aim is in posting this on a blog. All I know is that in this day and age...with the ability for information to spread as quick as this (and it took me a month to read about it), it is unacceptable to ignore this part of our reality simply because it doesn't feel good to consider. Apathy in any form as it relates to concern for another human is, in my opinion, atrocious. So, as we consider our own human rights...I hope we will also consider hers, as they are one and the same. Absolutely no one on earth deserves this. http://www.amnestyusa.org/document&183;php?id=ENGPRE200810317930

Surveillance Camera

There are times I really wish I had secretly installed a surveillance camera in my own room. Like the time I was startled awake by my terrified cat projecting himself off me via his back claws in my arm startled by my having accidentally kicked over of a table with a bunch of stuff on it next to my bed. Or like yesterday when I caught myself sleepily putting on two winter coats by mistake on my way out the door.

Someday is NOW!!!

Someday people will look back at this time and be so ashamed of how many people in this country were so ignorant and cruel.

Someday people will sit with their grandchildren or their great grandchildren and have to explain to them why they thought that two people loving each other was so disgusting.

Someday money won't matter and fear won't be instilled in us by religion or anything else.

Someday we won't accept fear as a substitute for love and unity.

Someday Faith won't refer to "MY God" or "YOUR God", but to faith in our spirit, and each others'.

Someday laws will be there to protect people's rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

Someday no law will define what someone else's happiness 'should' be.

Someday there will truly be a separation of Church and State.

Someday the energy it takes to create and pass new laws will move us forward rather than back.

Someday no one will be able to deny that what is done to others is also done to you and that holding anyone back holds everyone back.

Someday I will be able to tell my great grandchildren that I have always believed in and supported love.

Please stand for love today....

Be FOR something rather than against something. Be for love. In time it will work.