Here are a few of the things I'm thinking about:
1. What if Facebook was like Pandora? You like a comment and then only comments like that one pop up? The other day I thumbs-upped a song only because it reminded me of a certain time of my life, not because I necessarily thought it was a great song. Why did i do that?? What had I done?? But I did it. Those thoughts are totally separate from each other but I think a lot about Pandora these days.
2. What does it MEAN when you are choosing a show to watch with your 4-year-old and he insists on watching Bismarck, a documentary on the discovery of the WWII mega-sure-to-dominate-the-seas German battleship sunk by the British. It was kind of a win-win. I get to watch something about WWII and he gets to see boats. AND, the expedition (to find the sunken ship) was led by none other than Robert Ballard, aka Mr. TITANIC! And, using our old pal, Argo, the underwater sled-machine with cameras and lights. (I know far too much) This documentary was filmed just a few years later than that discovery. So really, a win-win-win. It was pretty interesting, actually. They showed bits of real footage amidst the search and also interviewed veteran sailors from both sides--awkward!
p.s. is "awkward" out now? I don't think I'm quite finished with it.
3. I recognize that in the scheme of things, this next thing is not a big deal and there are bigger problems to worry about. Ok, I've recognized that. Now I'll go on:
Not being able to find parking is quickly destroying bits of my soul. Each day that it happens a little piece is zapped and incinerated. Today after we
This is difficult because I have to keep an eagle eye to the front and rear for the signs of a departing car, knowing there are fellow lurkers also on the prowl. Deciding I should make one more decision before I was completely unstable, mentally, and therefore unfit to operate a large machine, though knowing it would finish off the last shred of soul that was hanging onto my ribs for dear life (our soul is in our chest, right?) I circled one more time because it has happened too many times in my life that I wait and wait, then park in the sticks only to see a vacant spot right in front of my house upon my arrival home after the long journey from my car and it's all I can do not to clench my fists to the heavens and sob, "WHY?" So I did and when I came back around, once more, no spots. Thus, again, I surveyed my lurk spots and, knowing I wouldn't have to move for a while, selected the one I sat in the first time. Maddeningly serendipitous, not two minutes later, the owner of the car parked in the spot behind me got in and left and all I had to do was ease backward and the last remnants of my soul that had gotten caught in the treetops nearby came back to me, in a last ditch effort to keep me alive. It worked, but only just.
Lastly, and this (parking) should absolutely be its own post, on a separate occasion I had found a miracle spot right out front by my home. Before I go on, let me explain a few things:
a) There are 2.5 million people living in Brooklyn. In Brooklyn.
To put this in perspective:
Square miles: 97
Population: 2.5 mil
Salt Lake City, UT
square miles: 109
Anyway. I wish there was a double-italicize option for extra emphasis. I'll just have to make do with what I have, I guess. As it is, I am developing a cramp in my ctrl+i fingers but surely a cramp worthwhile.
b) There is street sweeping just about every other day. For me this means for an hour and a half you can't park this side of the street Mon/Thurs and you can't park on that side of the street Tues/Fri or else you'll get a ticket. And it just makes life complicated.
Anyway, so the other morning I had found a miracle spot and after I finished weeping and wailing a prayer of thanks I was sitting parked with the car idling (finishing my Kelly Clarkson song, if you must know) and a man pulled up next to me to ask if i was leaving. I apologetically smiled, waved "no" and said "sorry!" and, broken-hearted I know, he drove off in search of a hope and a prayer. The thing that brings me the second-most amount of joy is giving up my sweet spot for someone else, being able to tell them, Yes, I AM leaving. Yes, you MAY have it! It's your lucky day!!! Of course my #1 is finding that sweet spot for myself. Perhaps this should be the other way around but it's not. It's not.
4. Once upon a time, Julian and I took a trip into the city and met Sean for some evening fun. First, I think we ate a hotdog. Second, we went to FAO Schwartz which is near Rockefeller Center, and also near the big Apple Store. (ha! accidental pun) I don't know why/how-- maybe because its sign is more prominent, but Julian has formed in his mind that the toy store (FAO) IS the Apple Store. That's what he calls it. Which is funny because he'll get excited and be like, "Hey, can we go to the Apple Store??" Like some mini-hipster nerd. Anyway, i think it's futile to explain it to him so one day he's going to have a moment and realize his error and it should make for a good story, hopefully.
5. Is it possible to develop a callous on the roof of your mouth? If so, i sure could enjoy hot chocolate a lot better. Just as a seamstress can sew and quilt with ease, I'd like to sip my hot chocolate with the same worry-free enjoyment and skill. And I like my hot chocolate hot. Warm hot chocolate is not only a contradiction in terms but a waste of space. (in terms? of terms? around terms?) On the other hand, I've heard frozen hot chocolate is good but I still have yet to try it/can't picture what that even could mean.
I know people who really love NYC think living in the suburbs must be really boring. And it probably is, in comparison. But reading this post made me fall in love with my driveway (and enough street parking right in front of my house for at least three cars!) all over again...
Also, I nearly died over the phrase, "mini hipster-nerd."
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