So, I dug my iPod out of the bottom of a random bag today. I don't know how I've been getting by with almost no music of my own, aside from Pandora occasionally. Life is so much richer with music...even the unimportant shit, like a 10 minute walk to the subway. I really enjoy shuffling my songs, and convince myself that there's meaning in what's played each time I do that (unless, of course, I don't like the outcome). Well, today I got a few interesting ones. For some reason, many important events/memories/feelings in my life have a Tom Petty song attached in my mind. "American Girl" was blasting in my ears when I flew home from Italy for the last time, "Wildflowers" constantly reminds me of where I come from, and "Free Fallin'" accompanies one of the first carefree, drunken high school memories I have with one of my best friends. Today was no exception. This is what came on...even if you know the song, take a minute to read the lyrics again. They sing to me, quite simply.

"Learning to Fly" by Tom Petty

Well I started out down a dirty road
Started out all alone
And the sun went down, as I crossed the hill
And the town lit up, the world got still

I'm learning to fly, but I ain't got wings
Coming down is the hardest thing

Well the good ol' days may not return
And the rocks might melt & the sea may burn

I'm learning to fly, but I ain't got wings
Coming down is the hardest thing

Well some say life will beat you down
Break your heart, steal your crown
So I've started out for God knows where
I guess I'll know when I get there

I'm learning to fly around the clouds
But what goes up must come down

I'm learning to fly, but I ain't got wings
Coming down is the hardest thing

Good stuff. Growing up is weird.

*Note: I realize that posting lyrics can be obnoxious. Deal with it- I've been drinking delicious white wine & reading the sad stories of beagles and great danes on petfinder.com who need to be adopted. Simon the kitty wants a puppy...I told him it could happen when we get a yard.

I'm a downer. Here's the only story I can think of.

Hi. For those who regularly check this, I'm sorry for such a long break. To tell you the truth, I'm feeling pretty "outta wack," to quote my mother. Oh well...after talking with a good friend for a while this evening, I realized I do have at least one funny story to share. Here it is.

I was out with a friend from school (yes, I have one of those) and we stumbled into a bar to meet some of her other friends. It wasn't a fancy bar or a dive- just an average, medium energy, partially full bar. With karaoke in the back.

Some guys were *trying* to perform Nelly's "Ride Wit Me" toward the end of the evening. Needless to say, their butchering of one of my favorite songs did not make me happy. Honestly, I don't remember if I reacted in an outlandishly embarrassing or composed but slightly humorous manner, but I apparently made my disapproval clear and was subsequently invited into the act.

I worked it. I did all that could be done at that point in the song to honor Nelly. Again, kind of fuzzy on the specifics- I could have started at the wrong point in the song and just rapped my little heart out until I thought it was over...who knows? Not me, not really. But I can tell you who was honored by my performance: a tiny Asian boy measuring no more than 5 feet tall, tops. He came staggering/running up to me with his button-down shirt held open from the nipples up, with the biggest smile ever plastered onto his darling little face. His request was simple: "Please, could you sign my chest?!" Yes. Yes, I could. And I did.

After I signed, the little guy began to frown as he tried to turn his head to look at my scrawled signature, asking whether I had really signed my name or written "asshole" instead. I reassured him that it was, in fact, my name (Kate, not Nelly), and his smile returned as he scampered back off...I assume he was trying to get more signatures. I then found my friend and told her it was about time for me to go home...turned out, she'd been thinking the same thing. She said her brother needed to get into her apartment, but I'm afraid that she was intimidated by my pseudo-fame. God, I hope not...I need all the friends I can get in this big, scary city.

random, disjointed items

WARNING: The author of this blog was under the influence of pain pills during the creation of this entry. That is all.

Item #1--Confusion:

I got very excited while I was on the subway today because I thought I was experiencing my first celebrity sighting (or second, depending on whether or not you count Paris Hilton's mom as a celebrity). I was legitimately under the impression that I was sitting across from Elijah Wood on the train. Now, I wasn't going to try to talk to him or ask for his autograph or anything, but still...I was feeling triumphant that I would finally get to have a celebrity run-in. I mean, seriously- I've lived in New York for 3 months...I'm pretty sure it's my turn, right? So, I was sitting there, smugly thinking about how cool it was to see a celebrity in person when I started to second guess my initial judgment. My doubts were threefold:

1.) While gossip magazines have entire sections on celebrities being "normal" and "just like us" because they grocery shop, run in the park, and take their kids for walks, I felt that riding on the subway would be perhaps a little too normal for someone as famous as Elijah Wood. It's probably the worst place for a celebrity to be, actually--there is literally no escape from the crazies (myself included, apparently).

2.) "Elijah" was wearing Vans. More specifically, knock-off Vans. You should be picturing the footwear of the "skater" group of your school in 1996. Enough said.

3.) This is the one that truly convinced me that I was not sitting across from Elijah Wood...he had boobies. Not fatty man-boobies...but teenage girl boobies (I'm not being perverted, they were just there). While Elijah Wood is certainly prettier than approximately 67% of the real female population, I'm positive he hasn't crossed the line into real teenage girlhood.

Damn...there goes my first celebrity sighting. And now that I think about it, "Paris Hilton's mom" may have actually been a tranny. Maybe I'm starting to lose the ability to differentiate between male and female (to be fair, it is a lot harder here).

Item #2-- Confession:

Since I've lived here, my posture has improved. While this is a good thing, I have to admit that the reason it has gotten better is slightly embarrassing. The amount of highly reflective store front windows in this city has an effect on people similar to that of flames on moths: I can't walk down the street without looking at myself in the windows at least 3 times per block. It's impossible. True, everyone obviously does it and there really are interesting things inside most windows to look at as well, but still- it makes me feel helplessly vain. I once went to the the nearest Walgreens, bought hair-cutting scissors, and cut my bangs as soon as I got home solely because of how they looked in the windows of NYC that day. Embarrassing, but good for my spine and haircut, I suppose.

Item #3-- Anticipation:

As it is the end of October, the weather is clearly cooling down. It's been extremely nice lately-- I love fall temperatures. Over the past few days, I've also really enjoyed seeing fall clothing come out (boots & jackets make me smile). However, today I noticed a few people wearing actual coats--the ankle length, down-filled kind. This alarmed me, as it was 57 degrees outside when I saw this. I'm just really curious about what kind of winter gear these people will bring out when the temperature drops another 30 degrees! Will they hop around in furry sleeping bags? Will they build their own personal traveling igloos?! Who knows- but I feel heavy anticipation about this. I will let you know, I promise.

The Snoop

I've caught a disease from the subway. No, nothing nasty- I'm talking about "The Snoop." What started as mild curiosity about what people around me are reading, writing, or discussing has morphed into an insatiable need to snoop into these things as much as I can without looking like a total creep. Here are some examples of what I've discovered lately while under the influence of The Snoop:

-A few days ago, I found myself sitting next to a man in a relatively uncrowded subway car. The seats were not all taken, so it wasn't necessary to sit really close to my neighbors, but I found myself inching toward this specific man as I caught snippets of his reading material. Words like "Brazilian waxes," "vaginal problems," and "security cameras" jumped out at me. Can you blame me? Turns out, a woman named Bunny (seriously) had been performing Brazilian bikini waxes on clients for years at a completely legit spa and a certain client with alleged vaginal problems was (perhaps) suing the spa for (maybe) having video cameras in the rooms. Don't hold me to this outline; I am not clear on the details. I do know that this document looked like legal paperwork; however, this man did not look like an attorney. He was wearing a Canadian tuxedo (all denim) & work boots...but he was editing this document and writing comments in red ink like "irrelevant" and "should omit." The whole thing was just wacky...but it made my ride fly by.

Lesson: If I need a bikini wax in NYC, don't go to ____ spa. Do bring my own sanitizer and look around for cameras.

-While sitting next to a man in his early thirties, I "happened" to glance down at what he was writing. Expecting it to be a hardware store shopping list, or directions, or...something else men write, I was thrown off when I realized he was writing a love note! I'm not sure if it was an actual love letter or it was a guideline to what he was going to say to someone later, but I definitely caught "Without you, I do not feel ok. I feel like I can't stand up and I don't know where I'm going." As I teared up, I stood and moved to the doors to give him some space, even though my stop wasn't coming up for another 5 minutes.

Lesson: Being a freakishly fast reader is not always a great quality. I definitely don't want anyone reading my "love vents" over my shoulder...but then again, I don't write them down on the subway. So, keep the writing on the train impersonal: grocery lists, music to download, homework, etc.


-And finally, a situation during which I was the object of someone else's Snoop: During an intense game of Tetris on my phone, I became aware that a boy (about 13 years old) next to me was also very involved in the game. He was getting pretty emotional about it, too- he was moving his body as the pieces were situated and doing air punches when I made particularly "impressive" moves (I really didn't know someone could get that into Tetris). His friend was getting kind of embarrassed and kicked him and told him to stop. My fan replied "No, man, she's schoolin' this! She's schoolin' it!" He continued to cheer me on until his stop came- I shut it down shortly after he left because I just didn't feel quite so heroic puzzling geometric pieces together without my #1 fan.

Lesson: Sometimes The Snoop affects people in a good way. I was reassured that if people do notice the times this disorder takes ahold of me, it isn't always annoying and creepy; in fact, it may make someone feel flattered and interesting. (But I still need to try to control myself. Perhaps I should look into blinders.)

I'll start with some recent scenes I've encountered that struck me as slightly nutty and wonderful at the same time. Each happens to involve a mother and her children...don't know.


-This afternoon, as I was walking through my neighborhood, I saw a mom trying to keep track of a gaggle of kids. I noticed that one of the tiny girl-children was lagging behind, trying to look inside a bag that was slightly too large for her to carry. Her mom and the other kids were impatiently waiting for her and shouting "Don't drop that! Don't you dare drop that! Now hurry up!" The little girl looked up, wide-eyed and asked what would happen if she dropped it. I almost lost it when I heard the mother calmly respond "It will blow up. Now come on." Classic.



*From this situation, I was again reminded that I'm not ready to be a mother, herding a tribe of children around the city. God bless the patience of some people- and their quick wit under the pressure of a changing traffic light.





-Yesterday, I was riding the subway and it became PACKED at one stop with an enormous group of city school kids (about 14-16 years old). *I must note that these kids scare the bejeezus out of me- they are so grown up already and seem so hardened by the city and in control of everything (deep, I know)* Anyway, these kids filled up the car and were yelling and jostling everyone and being incredibly obnoxious. When they got off a couple stops later, a beautiful young African American mother with 3 daughters (2 elementary school aged, 1 infant) began screaming at them: "I will CUT you! I will freakin' SLICE you fools up!! You have NO manners..." etc. I was so taken aback. Her oldest daughter was staring at her, and the mom then calmly proceeded to explain that you have to stand up for yourself. Those kids had no manners and were not respecting anybody, and she explained that she was right to tell them that she would give them an ass-whooping...because you got to ACT right.



*I mean, I like this. I am NOT assertive enough...never have been. I can literally count the times I have stood up for myself in the exact moment it was necessary. Now, I don't mean that yelling about slicing people is always right or awesome...and to be honest, I couldn't pull it off (unless I was wearing my sweet new bomber jacket). But, I really need to work on at least gathering my thoughts and relaying them back in real conversation time during arguments/uncomfortable discussions. Because I have the thoughts...I do. I just need to ACT right and step up.

Introduction to My Completely Legit Experiment

This is me trying to remember The Scientific Method from 7th grade. Thanks Mr. Smit.



Observations:

-I've recently been told that too much of what I say is negative. Instead of saying "F- that, you big dummy" I decided to take this opportunity to let out some creative steam and better myself.
-Also, this city is overrun with wackos. I have to talk about them...I just have to.
-And my friend wants a blogging buddy- Holla!



Question:

-What can I learn from people who I automatically label as "nutjobs"?



Hypothesis/Goals:

-If I am constantly baffled by people in this city, it is inevitable that I must (at least occasionally) baffle others. In order to make this uncomfortable process of examining my own character flaws slightly more fun, I figure I should use all of these "wackos" as inspiration.
-Along with being able to share funny & awkward stories with people other than my boyfriend and cat (both of whom are beginning to tune me out- I don't blame them), it is my hope that I can pull some positive aspects out of these crazy situations and bring some of what I'm lacking into light.

And now, I shall abandon The Scientific Method. Let me tell you stories. Read on.