WTF Wednesday…A Spiral Escape !?

While sitting outside, enjoying one of the rare moments of sunshine New York has seen in the last few days, I noticed a really cool spiral staircase on a neighboring building. At first this stairway made me very happy, because my favorite color is green and I’ve always appreciated a good spiral. But, as per usual, my over analytical mind kicked in and I started thinking about the purpose of this vertical structure. Much to my disappointment,  it was concluded that this skinny, winding path was a fire escape. Now, I have no doubt this is a common design for emergency exits in this city, because they definitely take up less room than a typical drop-stair situation. However, could you imagine if that building was seriously burning down? Being a very clumsy person, I know that living on the top floor during a fire would be my nightmare. Not only would it make a person incredibly dizzy, it would take much longer to run to safety. So, even though I still greatly enjoy the aesthetics of this spiral passage, I think it is a ridiculous approach to getting residents out of an emergency. [Note- because of this inspiration, I will have a green, spiral staircase in my future home, just not as my emergency exit.]

Post Summary- Green, spiral stairs are awesome, but not in an emergency situation.

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Don’t Call me “Babe.”

The text messages you see below are from a gentleman with whom I shared a single, awkward encounter. None of what happened here is okay. Sure, it’s awesome when you receive a friendly text message from a suitor of interest. However, it is not awesome to get your phone blown up after meeting someone ONE time.

This kind of texting is especially not okay if the ONE encounter you had with the sender went something like- you have a conversation with reasonably good-looking person, you tell them you aren’t interested in dating because you’re only recently single, then, after some persuasion, you reluctantly hand over the digits. Nothing about that exchange should make you think “this girl must be super into me and probably wants to have a full-blown text message conversation at 5am.” Of course, I did the logical thing, which was nothing. I did not respond to this guy even once, but for some reason this did not detour him from expressing his feelings, asking about my current status, and calling me a pet name.

On top of the crazy-aspect of this series of messages, calling me “babe” was inappropriate. Even if our meeting had been magical, love-at-first-sight material, calling me such a name would be a deal-breaker. That term of endearment only makes me laugh and assume the person is an airhead- a reaction caused by my love of the show, Daria. [Note- On the show, Daria's two dumbest classmates were Kevin, the football player, and Brittany, the cheerleader. Of course, because of their mutual love of football, these two people were an item and CONSTANTLY call each other "babe"] Therefore, as silly as it might be, if I hear couples refer to one another as “babe,” I immediately assume that they are stupid or, if I know them well enough to know they are bright, I mock them for sounding unintelligent.

Anyway, back to my point….I ended up getting more than 10 texts from this guy before he realized my lack of response should result in him discontinuing all communication. Thankfully, I didn’t have to deal with calling my cellphone service provider to block his number. That would not only have been inconvenient, but would also lead to me wondering if he had been blocked by other women and, if so, how many!? I mean we met ONCE and it wasn’t even that great. That makes me highly concerned about what he’s like when he actually has a smooth interaction with a person of the opposite sex.

All of this taught me an important lesson about giving out my phone number to awkward strangers. And, if in the future I get declined after asking for a man’s number, I’ll know it’s because I’m awkward and he’s afraid I’ll blow his phone up and tell him when I’m not sleeping.

Post Summary: Don’t be crazy.

 

Fantabulawkward Friday! [Please Pray...?]

I know what you are thinking. “Liz, why the hell have you posted a picture of a woman reading on the subway??” Well, my interest with this picture has nothing to do with the woman’s reading activity and everything to do with the sign above her. No, not the NYC metro map, but directly above that you will notice a sign with symbols for “no smoking,” “no littering,” no boom boxes” and the words “Please pray.” Obviously someone has vandalized this sign and it was originally meant to only say “Please.” BUT take a moment and think about how horrible a subway ride would be if everyone on board was smoking, littering, and listening to a large boom box. That sounds miserable! Note- I have yet to see a person walking around NYC with a giant boombox. Feel that I might need to revisit this “No Boombox” rule because it is kind of outdated and sounds almost as silly as “No Barbecuing in this area.”

Now, for those of you who don’t believe in a god or don’t typically find yourself asking an all-powerful source for help with such favors, this request for prayer wouldn’t be something you thought considered. And for those of you who do have a close relationship with said creator, you still might not pause to think about what this vandal has asked of those reading the sign. However, I found myself thinking very deeply about how thankful I was people weren’t allowed to do such things on a subway car. This then lead to be deciding that from now on am going to make a special point to thank the universe for making such rules possible. So, as awkward as taking a moment to pray that people don’t make your public transit more uncomfortable than it already is, I think taking a moment to thank the universe, science, god, or whatever you give credit for providing functional life here on earth wouldn’t be the worst thing.

Dear NYC- While I am not asking you to start believing in a god and talking to him/her about proper subway etiquete, I do think people around here should appreciate how wonderful it is to live in this town.

I find New Yorkers generally don’t appreciate how lucky they are to have the some of the best restaurant, metro, park, and basic activity  options in the world. Because I grew up in a small town in the middle of Arkansas, I know what life is like without those wonderful things, so am going to make a better effort to awkwardly give thanks to the universe for allowing me to life in such a fabulous city. A city made even greater because of basic rules like “No smoking on the subway.” In conclusion, my request to you, New York, is that you stop for a moment and be thankful for living in such a fabulous place. Note- this appreciation of rules does not apply to the recent large drink law that recently got passed. 

Post Summary- Someone vandalized a subway sign.

WTF Wednesday!?

Who knew that wearing a mesh top would bring out the silver in a person’s nipple rings so much!? I think 1993 did, but that’s beside the point. I had the great pleasure of sharing a subway car with this young man not too long ago and it made me wonder- who wakes up, looks in their closet, SEES a red, mesh top, and decides “YES. This is what I will wear today.” Having such a piece of clothing in your closet is impressive enough, but this guy took it to the next level. I think the backwards hat really brings it all together. If/when I ever decide such an outfit choice is the right one, please handcuff me to a convenience store front and never look back.

Post Summary: While being yourself is great, wearing a mesh shirt is not.

10 Reasons Why my Neighborhood Makes me a Bad-Ass, Awkward, White Chick

As I mentioned briefly in my previous post, being a white girl living in Harlem puts me in the minority. I know this because it’s rare that a week goes by and I’m not informed of this fact- usually via catcall- by a neighbor. Note(s)- Being complimented by a stranger in a sexually explicit way is usually very uncomfortable, but can occasionally make an “I’m feeling fat and ugly” day somewhat better. Also, it should be known that I consider anyone my neighbor if they’re walking, sitting, eating, etc. within 5 blocks of my apartment.

This has not significantly changed my personal perception on life or made me one of those crackers who thinks their residential location gives them the ability to know exactly what it’s like to be a latino or black person living in the United States. My NYC neighborhood has simply caused me to become the most bad-ass, awkward, white chick you probably know. Here are 10 reasons why I thoroughly enjoy being a minority in Harlem-Town.

The full extent my bad-ass, awkward, white chick status can be seen here.

#1) I can easily be found in a crowd.

#2) I get to be one of the only caucasians who can properly eat, appreciate, and discuss GOOD soul food. Being raised in the south and having grandmothers who, among other things, specialized in lard based vegetable dishes gave me a legup on this one. 

#3) Because of the regular “you’re white” reminders I receive, I have many opportunities to help people better themselves by simply mocking and giving negative reinforcement to this rude behavior.

Example

Sender: “Hey there, white girl…”

Recipient- “Hello, man with dark hair” [awkward glare or eye rolling should follow] 

#4)  Throughout my life, being white has always put me in the majority, so this living situation makes me a slightly more well-rounded person.

The Royal Tenenbaums House- easily found by walking around my neighborhood.

#5) I have a new way of making ignorant and/or pretentious assholes feel awkward by simply telling them where I live. [While I know my area is awesome and completely safe, people who aren't familiar with upper Manhattan usually associate Harlem with the 1970's-80's Crack Epidemic. So this statement will usually cause such a person to make an involuntary look of concern. I then give them a confused stare, sit back, and watch/listen to them ask questions or make statements that only result in them appearing to be ignorant, judgmental, and impertinent.]

#6) My bad-ass gangster status has gone up exponentially.

#7) I’ve been filling out a lot of job applications lately and it’s good be well aware of which race category you fall under for the “optional” background survey found at the end of such documents.

#8) Being different is a good thing, according to what most of us were taught in elementary school

#9) The house where Wes Anderson (director of some of the whitest movies ever made) filmed The Royal Tenenbaums is in my neighborhood. That fact alone makes me WANT to be a white girl living in Harlem. Note- Wes Anderson films are my favorite and arguably the most under awarded in the movie making industry.

#10) My language skills in Ebonics, Spanish, and cursing combinations have greatly improved.

Post Summary: I am a caucasian female.

NO BBQ !?

These signs line the sidewalk across the street from my apartment.

I love my neighborhood. Being an awkward, white chick makes me a minority here in Harlem-Town and I find that refreshing. More notably, residing here makes for an always interesting, colorful, and generally easy-going lifestyle. Here you can find the most beautiful brownstones in all of NYC, African grocery stores, Louis Armstrong’s ghost, Starbucks, the occasional backpack-wearing drug dealer, several historical landmarks, and a couple of dumpster diving raccoons (story for another day). What you can’t find is a legal sidewalk Barbecue.

That’s right, it is illegal for a person to pull out the ole’ grill, throw on some meat, open a beer, and enjoy this fun-filled style of cooking. Having this rule is both hilarious and an injustice to all Sugar Hill dwelling citizens. I have to ask- What happened here that caused the city to not only create such a rule but also invest in signage to enforce it? Was there a BBQ gang outbreak in the area? Who was the person that approved this sign and did they not notice how ridiculous it was? HOW can one host a proper neighborhood block party without the key ingredient!?

Sure, being a southern girl might cause for some bias when it comes to this issue (my brother was actually on a traveling BBQ team whose whole hog won them the title of “World Champions” at Memphis in May), but that doesn’t change the fact that the preparation of a culinary delight on a public sidewalk should NEVER be denied. I was under the impression that living in Harlem meant occasionally watching neighbors fire up the Q on the sidewalk as their children played in water shooting from a nearby fire hydrant. Sure, this assumption could be questioned as being a Harlem stereotype, but that’s kind of how I imagined all NYC residential areas thanks to various books, movies, television programs.

You’ll be glad to know that all summer I witnessed kids creating these hydrant sprinkler systems and it made me very happy every time. 

See how fun and safe sidewalk BBQing can be!??

I’m not saying the city of New York doesn’t have reasons for this rule. Jackie Robinson Park is on the other side of the fence shown in the above picture. So, there is a bit of foliage close by that could possibly catch on fire and start utter chaos. However, I think that it is just as likely for a person tossing a cigarette to create such a dilemma. Why have they designated Barbecuing as the only enemy? I’d much rather there be no smoking allowed and, honestly, there are far more people who smoke on that sidewalk than would grill up some meat. On top of that, I’m pretty sure JRP has more concrete than trees.

In the end I will never contest this law or approach any local politician who might actually be able to do something about this absurd rule. That would be a waste of time, partly because I will never actually attempt to BBQ across the street. On top of that, I’ve come across several BBQ rebels over the last few months who said “Mutha’ F**K the NYPD and that stupid sign!”  So, knowing that those who really need their Barbecue outlet are willing and able to get it gives me all the peace of mind I need.

Post Summary: “No Barbecuing” is a stupid rule that was probably made by a miserable human who should be slapped. 

Happy Fabulawkward Friday!

Though it is not quite Halloween, this fall weather calls for Schubert to start sporting his orange and black scarf. As you can see, he’s unsure how he feels about this accessory. Perhaps he, like anyone reading this, is aware that a dog has no business in a scarf. Then again, maybe he knows this means WINTER IS COMING. Note- I’m a big fan of the SOIAF books and GOT series.

I keep telling him that we all have a bit of trouble adjusting to new seasons sometimes, BUT scarves ALWAYS make life a little warmer (not too warm, just enough to make you happy). And there is no other article of clothing that is as multifunctional as the scarf, besides maybe a sarong. These strips of fabric can be used as anything from a neck warmer, to a stain coverupper, to an emergency purse. If you are lucky, someday I’ll show you all the many uses I’ve found for this wonderful addition to any outfit. Currently, I’m wearing a v-neck with an infinite scarf and have never been more pleased with my body temperature.

Have a good weekend!

Post Summary: I force my dog to wear a scarf during the fall season.