get it together already

I don't know what my deal is, but I haven't posted in quite a while. I'm not really sure why. Things have happened. Noteworthy things. I have had thoughts. Some clever, some amusing, some worth sharing. But time passes, events come and go and I fall behind. So far behind, in fact, that I feel the need to recap those events before I can post about a new one. But the truth of the matter is I don't recap those events, which causes me to hold off on writing about the new ones, putting me even further behind.

Why am I posting now? Not sure. I'm not sure about a lot of things right now. About two months ago I had a plan. Now I have no plan. I have no idea what I want to do, where I want to be, etc. I'm extremely contemplative, but I can't make sense of my thoughts. I'm searching for answers, but coming up empty handed. I know this is just part of life, but come on! Get it together already!

do over?

The other day I was walking up Broadway and I saw three men congregated in between two storefronts. One man was trying to sell the other two men something so they were engaged in conversation. As I approached, I overheard the following:

Salesman to Man 1: Are you single?
Man 1: Yep.
Salesman: “I’ll tell you why in a second, but first let me…”
Man 2: (hearty laugh and slug to friend’s shoulder)
Salesman to Man 2: I’ll get to YOU right after.

I was laughing too but walked away very quickly. I didn’t want him telling me why I was single. I wasn’t in the mood. But then again, maybe that wouldn’t have been so bad. Do over? :)

jury duty

Now I'm not one to complain or to shirk my duties...especially when it comes to the law, the government, or my duty as a citizen, however, when I received the call to serve as a juror, I was not as thrilled as perhaps I should have been. In fact, I contemplated postponing. Now whether you have postponed or not, that is not the issue, I just didn't want to be a juror at the time. Work was especially busy and it was just bad timing all around. And then there is that fear that you will get picked for a really complicated case that would last longer than the typical 7 to 10 day gig.

Despite my wishy-washy attitude, I decided to serve.

The morning of Jury Duty came and I headed down to the courthouse a few blocks away from Chinatown. I saw other confused people meandering around the area with summons in their hands and knew that I was in the right place. I proceeded up to Room 1116 and waited for everything to start. A middle aged man entered at approximately 8:45 and with a thick New York accent proceeded to tell about the day and how things worked. "You will be doing a lot of waiting" is what he said. Great! That's just what I needed, sitting around and not doing anything. I didn't even bring a book. To top things off, I was starving because I didn't feel like breakfast and all I had was a $20 bill. The machines took dollar bills or change.

I grabbed a few magazines and settled into the leather seats that filled the room, still cursing the fact that I was so unprepared. To the court's credit, they do make every effort to make waiting as pleasant as possible, restrooms, a computer room, a TV room, magazines and comfy leather chairs. Still, I was distracted.

Finally at the end of the day, my name was called to be interviewed on a panel. I, along with about 60 other potential jurors were herded across the street to criminal court. We filed into a court room and there before me sat a scene that you see on TV, but not quite, because this was real.

The court was in his robe and looked grumpy. The Defense Attorney and the Defendant were to his left and the Assistant District Attorney was to his right. The jury box was in the corner and the stenographer sat between the judge and the attorneys. I was a little surprised that the Defendant was in the room and that made me slightly uneasy. Don't worry, I fully believe in the mantra "innocent until proven guilty". I think the thing that threw me off was the possibility of "judging" this man who has a face and who was right in front of me.

And then the District Attorney turned around and everything else seemed to turn hazy. He was tall, had dark hair, and blue eyes. He was clean cut and looked sharp in a suit.

I don't know why, but my attitude completely changed at this point. I suddenly wanted to be a juror and hoped that I got picked.

They called the first round of 20 people and the judge asked them a series of questions, "where do you live", "what do you do", "marital status", "have you ever been the victim of a crime", "have you ever served before", stuff like that. Each juror had to answer and the judge asked clarifying questions as needed. The ADA followed and the Defense followed him.

During this round of questioning, as pathetic as it sounds, I found myself smiling and staring at my new friend.

The day ended and our presence was requested back on Wednesday. The same scenario played out again as they only chose 6 of the 20. This time another 20 were selected. Not me. I still found it really interesting to sit in on the questioning, to see people's reactions, to hear their responses. I found it interesting that many people had been victims of crimes, many couldn't be completely impartial, but that there were many who could. And of course, I continued to enjoy the view....I mean everything that was before me.

This round of jurors only yielded 3 so they called 20 more. At this point, there were only 2 people in the audience who hadn't been picked (its done randomly) so they decided to interview us as well. Yes! I still had a chance! The questioning went on and it was finally my turn. I answered the questions beautifully. Completely unbiased, a social worker, the only person living in Harlem. I was a shoe-in, right? Wrong! I did not get picked. Nor did the majority of the group, but they had their 12 with a few alternates. We were thanked for our service and promptly dismissed. It was then that I snapped back into reality and realized that I was glad I didn't get chosen for this case. I left happily with an elevator full of other dismissed jurors.

After thinking about it, however, it was probably a good thing that I didn't get chosen. I mean, when you've got an ADA that was as cute as that, how could I be impartial!? :)

trick or treat

I've been in the city for nearly 5 years and for some reason I haven't seen a single Trick-or-Treating activity….until this Halloween. Imagine my delight to find little bunches of children dressed up as princesses, super heroes, monsters, and animals, walking from store front to store front, filling their bags with candy. Definitely different from my childhood Halloween experiences. I admired the diligence of parents as they escorted what seemed to be whole neighborhoods, around the city. Along with fun costumes and happy children, rambunctious teens roamed the streets a little later in the evening, throwing eggs and being their happy selves. I safely avoided being egged and was happy about that. I wondered if any of my center kids were doing the same thing. Probably. And finally, to top it all off, an older "Cassanova" stopped me as I was walking to the subway and in a overly-grand gesture he presented me with a Hershey's kiss. I was a little hesitant to take it not knowing if there was any expectation that accompanied it, but I took it still the same. However, just like any other child who was taught diligently by her parents, I decided not to eat the candy. He was, after all, a stranger. Another holiday in the city…how fun.

For some reason I failed to take any pictures of the little kiddies but managed to get one of me and some friends at dinner.

Happy Halloween!

ryan didn't start this fire

Sirens and flashing lights are a commonplace occurrence here in the city. They are even more common, in my neighborhood. So common in fact, that I usually sleep right through them. However, visitors do not and that is probably a good thing.

Recently my close childhood friend, Cheri, came to visit. One night, after a very long day, I lay sleeping in my room which faces the street. Cheri slept down the hall in the living room and was suddenly woken by some yelling. Sound carries well in the building so it sounded as if it was right outside the door. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to make out what they were saying...multi-lingual building.

Then as she continued to lay there, she started to smell smoke, closely followed by raging sirens which happened to stop right in front of the building. Now a little more alert, she sat up, looked down the hall and saw the flicker of red light. It was at this point that she decided to wake her unresponsive host.

She flipped on the light, explained the situation, and we both hopped on my bed to look out the window. Down below were two fire trucks, a fire marshall, three cop cars and a whole bunch of men in uniform teeming around the street. Not knowing what to do we walked to the front door to see if we could see anything. Remembering the fire safety training of my elementary years, I decided to put my hand near the door to see if it was hot before I slowly opened the door. We didn't see anything, but the smoke was definitely permeating the building and it reeked of burning.

We ran back to the bedroom and peered out the window yet again and noticed that the firemen really weren't doing anything. They did, however, keep looking up in our direction. It was at that moment that I wished everyone knew ASL so that I communicate with them without having to open my window, yell down to the street, and look completely pathetic. After much debate, Cheri and I decided that it would be best if we called 911 to see whether or not they were just having a party or if we needed to evacuate.

I called 911 and they transferred me to the fire department. I explained the situation and told them that we just wanted to know whether or not people were leaving the building and we hadn't received the memo. I was told that they were going to send someone up. I told them that it wasn't necessary and that we just need to know the status of the building. Apparently they didn't understand me because they told me that they were sending someone over.

About 1 minute later, we heard another firetruck pull up, sirens blaring and everything. We decided we had better make ourselves somewhat presentable if we were going to have company.

Two minutes later, there was a knock on our door...then it turned into pounding. I hurried to answer the door and five firemen spilled into my doorway. Did they run?

Completely embarrassed at this point, I explained, yet again, the situation and asked if we had anything to worry about. The spokesman of the group proceeded to tell me that someone on the second floor had burned their dinner. Who cooks dinner at 2:00am??? That's what I want to know. One of the other fireman volunteered to come in and open my windows for me. I told him that I was fine, but almost felt bad because he looked a little deflated upon my response. Oh well.

So in the end, we were safe, but the night did not prove to be restful. The smell of smoke eventually drifted away and all we were left with was a fun memory of firemen and firetrucks. Sad thing is, neither of us can even remember if the fireman were cute! So many women's fantasies and niether of us can really remember. Boo.