tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16423101443669422872024-03-12T21:20:29.876-04:00The Middle SpaceHere I am, stuck in the middle with me...Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.comBlogger93125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-36709777076218914922011-10-28T00:15:00.000-04:002011-10-28T00:24:41.665-04:00How Gotham is like an acid tripIn the past week I have seen:<br />
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-Astronauts handing out buttons in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Washington_Square_Park">Washington Square Park</a>.<br />
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-A man using a tree bed as his toilet on <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stuyvesant_Street_%28Manhattan%29">Stuyvesant Street</a>.<br />
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-A <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OxtaouSNxak">dancing cow</a> in front of <i>The Cube</i> at Astor Place. <br />
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P.S.- I don't think the cow was drunk. <i>Just groovy, man.</i><br />
<br />Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-42347780067327958432011-09-30T08:59:00.001-04:002011-09-30T09:00:24.665-04:00Overheard on the street this morning......a woman in the crosswalk telling her dog that "traffic is not funny."<br />
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I agree with her and I hope her dog does, too.</div>
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<i>Yet he still seemed to be smiling...</i><br />
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Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-86301614478445391652011-09-20T22:23:00.000-04:002011-09-21T00:23:21.523-04:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I like this building on the corner of Bowery and 3rd Street.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">It's difficult to see the terraces on the different levels, but from the ground they appear to be beautiful and full of greenery.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZerFKk1tnk0/TnlfOXYNZaI/AAAAAAAAAf8/tsChI4xhFTU/s1600/east+village+bldg.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZerFKk1tnk0/TnlfOXYNZaI/AAAAAAAAAf8/tsChI4xhFTU/s400/east+village+bldg.JPG" width="323" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Not all portions of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/East_Village,_Manhattan">the East Village</a> are quite as desirable, however, even just down the block.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">But don't focus on the trash cans in the following picture.</span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hC9PvaDPJzU/TnlJGaebO4I/AAAAAAAAAf0/n8R12PeiqsY/s1600/trash+cans+LES.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hC9PvaDPJzU/TnlJGaebO4I/AAAAAAAAAf0/n8R12PeiqsY/s400/trash+cans+LES.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Let's get a close-up on one of those signs, shall we?</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OT41ghVVNto/TnlJFWGs1tI/AAAAAAAAAfw/D_tVxsgLiU4/s1600/trash+can+signs+les2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OT41ghVVNto/TnlJFWGs1tI/AAAAAAAAAfw/D_tVxsgLiU4/s400/trash+can+signs+les2.JPG" width="297" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Apparently it's the neighbors, and not the building,</i></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><i>that are less than desirable.</i></span></b><br />
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Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-69962954617620047282011-09-15T20:46:00.004-04:002011-09-15T23:23:43.105-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">High-End Multipurpose Home Decor</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8AePRO7iwp0/TnKcBUmmvyI/AAAAAAAAAfs/10wLD_upzDI/s1600/Gun+Lamps.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="366" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8AePRO7iwp0/TnKcBUmmvyI/AAAAAAAAAfs/10wLD_upzDI/s400/Gun+Lamps.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/ny/marketplace/flos-opens-its-firstever-us-store-in-soho-sneak-peek-116956">Greene Street, SoHo</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I may know a few people who would </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">enjoy reading by the light of <a href="http://217.169.111.182/USAdecorative/ParametricSearch.aspx?lang=en&pn=1&iid=&Cid=Gun%20Collection&OrigLine=FlaBedsideGundecus">these lamps</a>.</span></div>
<br />Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-52240790733976872642011-09-06T23:50:00.000-04:002011-09-06T23:57:43.623-04:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=88YYgesF4kQ">Barbie's Corvette</a> got all jacked up.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BXi3T21IXd4/TmbpE4id9yI/AAAAAAAAAfk/7CiNkrxoscs/s1600/Barbie+Car+Jacked.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BXi3T21IXd4/TmbpE4id9yI/AAAAAAAAAfk/7CiNkrxoscs/s400/Barbie+Car+Jacked.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fort Washington Avenue, Washington Heights</td></tr>
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Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-73980877429964322972011-08-28T05:13:00.002-04:002011-08-28T05:19:15.860-04:004:00am <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I went to bed about 11:00pm and woke up at 4:00am to a Notify NYC text message saying a Tornado Warning would be in effect until 4:15am for Brooklyn and Queens. I turned on the TV and had to wait a few minutes to find more specific information. Since there are so many weather issues over multiple states, even a tornado warning seems to be put in queue for reporting on some stations. The storm cell they issued the warning about seemed to be north of us and moving towards the area of LaGuardia Airport in Queens.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I walked over to Sterling's room and asked her to go sleep on the couch just to be on the safe side since her bed is right next to a large window. She and I are both native Kansans, so we know to take tornado warnings seriously, and she went to the living room without questioning it. We've both agreed that the freakiest thing about this Hurricane for us is the potential for small tornadoes to pop up. The Weather Channel reporter said that the conditions surrounding these tornadoes aren't normal (obviously) and you can't see or hear them as you normally would. So even though that specific danger zone seems to have bypassed us, we're both trying to play it safe.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">One of the specific neighborhoods mentioned in the warning was Astoria, Queens. I decided to text two of my friends who live in Astoria, just in case they were sleeping and not aware of the tornado warning in their area. I debated about sending them a note at such a crazy time in the morning, since they are adults and very capable people, but I decided I'd risk annoying them to make sure they knew. I think they are both home alone this weekend and I'm feeling a little protective. Teach, my Kansan friend in Astoria, texted me back in short time to say thanks. That made me feel a little better about sending them a note.</p> Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-67644058129091246862011-08-27T18:42:00.006-04:002011-08-27T19:02:40.226-04:00Vanity Comes Before a StormMy roommate and I are all settled in to wait out the approaching hurricane. We've stored extra food and water, and plenty of flashlights and candles. Now that the transit system is shut down, it seems that most other people are also waiting quietly at home. The streets are strangely quiet and the air in the apartment is thick with humidity. We are not expecting any weather that's too crazy before tonight at least, so before bed I will fill the bathtub and move a few things away from the windows. <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We live in the middle of Brooklyn, so we are far from any of the evacuation zones. The <span style="font-style: italic;">NYC Hurricane Evacuation Zones</span> map is below with a red dot that shows where we live.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wWJh-uEggAY/TllzAW_DpTI/AAAAAAAAAfg/EasSbHYmpZQ/s1600/hurricane_map_nyc_3.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 401px; height: 519px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wWJh-uEggAY/TllzAW_DpTI/AAAAAAAAAfg/EasSbHYmpZQ/s400/hurricane_map_nyc_3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645670057892881714" border="0" /></a></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I've actually found that waiting for this storm is almost dull, now that we are all ready (without meaning to sound flippant about such a serious matter). But instead of feeling bored, I am looking at this as a chance to have a very quiet day at home, and so far it's been nice. At some point, I think I will clean my room. Sterling said she may scrub the floors. If the electricity holds out I will watch a little TV and try to catch up on a few emails. If the lights do go out, we have candles to read by.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">After taking a three-hour nap this afternoon, I decided to shave and shower so I don't feel like a complete slob sitting around the house all day long. As I was shaving, however, I began to wonder if anti-slobbiness was my real reason for getting cleaned up or if I am just thinking more like my grandma did during a rough storm that hit my hometown on the morning of July 5, 1987. I remember my grandma telling us that when the weather started getting very bad, she got out of bed and got dressed and woke my uncle up and made him get dressed because if a tornado did blow them away, she didn't want people to look up and say, “Look at that man and woman flying around in their nightgown and underwear!”</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">After giving it a little more thought, I haven't decided if cleanliness or vanity is my real motivation for getting spiffied up, but I suspect it's a little of both. Either way, I'm all clean and ready to snooze out in front of the TV for a bit.</p> Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-31491006847073334002011-07-28T23:11:00.020-04:002011-07-29T00:47:09.291-04:00Spoiled MilkI have heard many out-of-town guests make comments comparing New York to a "foreign" country. I heartily agree that there are many aspects of this city that are unique in these United States. Sometimes it is charming and sometimes it leaves a person longing for something more familiar. This morning I experienced one of those unique moments as I purchased milk at the bodega near my office.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--AfTHcm6GuI/TjI3c7RDW4I/AAAAAAAAAfE/qrf44kVaBSE/s1600/ray%2527s%2Bgourmet.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--AfTHcm6GuI/TjI3c7RDW4I/AAAAAAAAAfE/qrf44kVaBSE/s320/ray%2527s%2Bgourmet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634627053878991746" border="0" /></a>The store is clean. The employees are nice. It's a great place to grab a bagel for a dollar. (I highly recommend the cinnamon-raisin bagel, toasted, with butter.) Overall, it gets a thumbs-up from me. Today I skipped the bagel to buy some milk for the cereal I keep in my desk. Last time I bought milk from this store, it turned out to be a little sour. I never took the time or effort to let them know, but I have been a bit shy about purchasing my milk there since that experience.<br /><br />This morning I carefully checked the "Best If Used By" dates and pulled my milk carton from the back of the refrigerated section just to be safe. Everything seemed fine. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tmb9GmVqwA4/TjI4LEbRHrI/AAAAAAAAAfM/eQ8mPpBzpuc/s1600/bad%2Bmilk.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 251px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tmb9GmVqwA4/TjI4LEbRHrI/AAAAAAAAAfM/eQ8mPpBzpuc/s320/bad%2Bmilk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634627846611738290" border="0" /></a>I took the milk to the counter and as I was paying the polite cashier, he said to me, "Check your milk before you leave." I looked at him for a moment, trying to make sure I understood what he wanted me to do. After a few more moments of a little stammering but mostly non-verbal communication with the employee, I found myself opening the carton on the deli counter and smelling my milk. Considering my last experience, I figured it wouldn't hurt to go along with this. But due to the fact that most milk smells sour to me, I took it a step farther by tasting my milk from the carton in the store. The milk tasted fine and I found myself walking to the office with an open quart of milk.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0bXjm-u8SPc/TjI5IT3A5uI/AAAAAAAAAfU/FLYUXToTu5g/s1600/happy%2Bmilk.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 165px; height: 193px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0bXjm-u8SPc/TjI5IT3A5uI/AAAAAAAAAfU/FLYUXToTu5g/s320/happy%2Bmilk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634628898726668002" border="0" /></a>I'm not sure if <span style="font-style: italic;">charming</span> is the right word for this experience. Perhaps <span style="font-style: italic;">perplexing</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">hysterical</span> with a little <span style="font-style: italic;">awkward</span> thrown in for good measure. But since I have never been shy about opening my own fridge to drink milk straight from the carton (much to my mother's chagrin), I don't really see that I should be so bothered by doing the same thing at my local deli.Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-91797848402510067272010-10-25T23:40:00.008-04:002010-10-26T00:19:49.700-04:00Crash<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/TMZQ5_pcKAI/AAAAAAAAAdo/doLYFiV0rXQ/s1600/Crash1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/TMZQ5_pcKAI/AAAAAAAAAdo/doLYFiV0rXQ/s400/Crash1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532198149539244034" border="0" /></a></div><div id=":16v" class="ii gt"><div id=":16u"><div><br />Not long ago, a car crashed into Pastel, the nail salon across the street from my office. I heard the first bump and thought "fender bender". Then we all heard the loud <span class="il">crash</span>. We don't know exactly what happened, but according to one source, the silver car (pictured) was hit from behind and then the driver couldn't stop the vehicle, so she veered it onto the sidewalk (out of instinct, I assume). Rather than colliding with another vehicle (which has safety features that pedestrians on sidewalks do not), the car hit the window and the support column on the corner of the salon. I'm sure the apartments above felt the jolt. Fortunately no pedestrians were hurt, although I'm told an employee in the salon was slightly injured when she jumped away from the wreck.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/TMZQ6D3X9zI/AAAAAAAAAdw/XMmDOKLinlU/s1600/Crash2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/TMZQ6D3X9zI/AAAAAAAAAdw/XMmDOKLinlU/s400/Crash2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532198150671431474" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />Some passersby helped the driver walk from the car and when the emergency crews got there they put her on a brace and loaded her into an ambulance. She was obviously very shaken up.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/TMZQ6D3X9zI/AAAAAAAAAdw/XMmDOKLinlU/s1600/Crash2.jpg"></a><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: right;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/TMZQ6VBYOZI/AAAAAAAAAd4/_J-EmVuh94A/s1600/Crash3.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/TMZQ6VBYOZI/AAAAAAAAAd4/_J-EmVuh94A/s400/Crash3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532198155276794258" border="0" /></a></div> </div></div></div> <div> </div> <div><br />A counter, stools and miscellaneous items were thrown around inside the salon. Our boss said that counter is where she usually sits while her nails are drying. Thankfully no one was sitting there this morning.<br /><br />A bit later, the emergency crews placed "FIRE LINE DO NOT CROSS" tape around the business, but the salon employees were letting patrons in. I guess life (and business) must go on!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/TMZQ6vMxENI/AAAAAAAAAeA/Z4OYboYVhLM/s1600/Crash4.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/TMZQ6vMxENI/AAAAAAAAAeA/Z4OYboYVhLM/s400/Crash4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532198162303881426" border="0" /></a></div></div> </div></div>Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-38526601934354396682010-08-30T20:36:00.010-04:002010-10-25T23:40:12.025-04:00More Bikes<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Sad Bikes in the City:</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/THxQ6PdFQgI/AAAAAAAAAdA/gd-Z-dTq63U/s1600/Bike_1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/THxQ6PdFQgI/AAAAAAAAAdA/gd-Z-dTq63U/s320/Bike_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511369005505790466" border="0" /></a><br />LaGuardia Airport (Queens)<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/THxQ6kA1Q8I/AAAAAAAAAdI/Lkeb7M2pk9I/s1600/Bike_2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/THxQ6kA1Q8I/AAAAAAAAAdI/Lkeb7M2pk9I/s320/Bike_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511369011024446402" border="0" /></a><br />World Financial Center (Battery Park City, Manhattan)<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/THxQ7JkCjAI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/8dYKY5d31-o/s1600/Bike_3.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/THxQ7JkCjAI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/8dYKY5d31-o/s320/Bike_3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511369021104229378" border="0" /></a><br />Washington Heights (Manhattan)<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/THxQ7vomb_I/AAAAAAAAAdY/N72e2Pr67GQ/s1600/Bike_4.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/THxQ7vomb_I/AAAAAAAAAdY/N72e2Pr67GQ/s320/Bike_4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511369031323906034" border="0" /></a><br />Broadway-Lafayette Subway Station: Brooklyn-bound Platform (Manhattan)<br /></div><br /><br /><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;" ><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;" >Happy Bike in the City:</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/THxP1gDXlLI/AAAAAAAAAco/p67VE60o_Jk/s1600/Happy_Bike.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/THxP1gDXlLI/AAAAAAAAAco/p67VE60o_Jk/s400/Happy_Bike.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511367824550368434" border="0" /></a>Brighton Beach Boardwalk (Brooklyn)<br /></div>Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-80899436235390762352010-07-20T01:50:00.012-04:002010-07-20T08:22:11.132-04:00'Tis the Gift...<span style="font-size:100%;">I haven't secured a full-time job yet, but I have been working as a long-term temp at a company that owns cinemas and a few live theaters. This evening a new movie </span><span style="font-size:100%;">was being premiered downstairs from my office. I was staying a little late to finish up a few tasks, so between emails and downloads, my co-worker and I watched out the office windows to see what celebrities were showing up. Katie Holmes (sans Tom Cruise) was the first big celebrity to show. Kevin Kline was there. So were other famous people who I've seen somewhere but whose names I don't know. I also caught just a small glimpse of what the paparazzi are like, and it's no surprise to me that some celebrities have slugged photographers. The crowd started snapping pictures and yelling, yelling, yelling to get the stars' pictures. It was chaotic (even though </span><span style="font-size:100%;">my co-worker said they were a calmer group today)!<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/TEU6Q6qcYEI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/N-KdBRC5iSQ/s1600/IMG00483.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 152px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/TEU6Q6qcYEI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/N-KdBRC5iSQ/s200/IMG00483.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495862982575153218" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/TEU6ftpBm7I/AAAAAAAAAcY/SLZUc6Mnvl0/s1600/IMG00481.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/TEU6ftpBm7I/AAAAAAAAAcY/SLZUc6Mnvl0/s200/IMG00481.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495863236777581490" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/TEU6tdQjIPI/AAAAAAAAAcg/06n_E2E47Cw/s1600/IMG00484.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 148px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/TEU6tdQjIPI/AAAAAAAAAcg/06n_E2E47Cw/s200/IMG00484.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495863472898121970" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">I've seen a lot of stars since I moved to New York. I seem to have a knack for accidentally running across them. (My roommate was a bit jealous when I saw Zach Braff at an event her company organized, shortly after she had finished her shift and went home. Sorry, Sterling.) I don't make a scene when I see a celebrity, even though I really do enjoy it. I'd like to say that famous people don't intrigue me, but they do. Sometimes it bothers me that I even care because I feel like I shouldn't and perhaps because it reflects my shallowness more than I'd care to see or admit to. And when I see famous actors up close, talented or not, I realize that they're just another person who has gained notoriety and I have many friends who are at least just as dynamic as they probably are.<br /><br />So after a few email frustrations and plenty of celebrity-voyeurism, I finally left the office and walked through the crowded sidewalk outside the theater towards the subway. It was then that the subtle, but really wonderful things began happening. A young woman stopped in front of me on the sidewalk to take a picture of a townhouse stoop filled with flowers and plants, then giggled as she realized that she had stopped in front of me before politely letting me pass. She had a sweet laugh and a sweet smile.<br /><br />Further down the street a man was walking his dog and I noticed that even though the man was a holding the leash in his hands, the dog was holding it as well, in his mouth, and walking so proudly and looking up at his master with such complete adoration and happiness. Then, out of the blue, a snippet of a song passed through my mind: "'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free, 'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be</span><span style="font-size:100%;">..." I don't even know all of the words to that song, but it was such a nice reminder to notice and get caught up in all of the intriguing, beautiful and simple things happening right around me every day. Like the discarded paper that was suspended on the wind between two buildings above my hand, dancing gently through the air. Or the small dog sitting in the window of the pet resort as I passed.<br /><br />So I think that maybe it's okay to get a little excited when someone famous is nearby, but I hope I'd rather be someone who gets even more excited and intrigued by all of the great things that exist in the real world that I see every day. (Though I will admit that shallow or not, I do wish Katie would have brought Tom.) :)<br /><br />I leave you this evening with the lyrics to "Simple Things", written by Elder Joseph Brackett while he was at a Shaker community in Alfred, Maine in 1848.</span><i><br /></i> <dl><dd> <dl><dd><i>'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free, </i><dl><dd><i>'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,</i></dd></dl> </dd><dd><i>And when we find ourselves in the place just right, </i><dl><dd><i>'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.</i></dd></dl> </dd><dd><i>When true simplicity is gain'd, </i><dl><dd><i>To bow and to bend we shan't be asham'd,</i></dd></dl> </dd><dd><i>To turn, turn will be our delight, </i><dl><dd><i>Till by turning, turning we come round right.</i></dd></dl> </dd></dl> </dd></dl>Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-36035414738770865182010-04-21T14:09:00.006-04:002010-04-23T04:12:38.606-04:00The kind of day......that makes me happy to be outside.<br /><br />...that makes me grateful for good friends.<br /><br />...that gives me hope for steady work again soon.<br /><br />...that reminds me why I moved to New York.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/S9FWSDrw4PI/AAAAAAAAAcA/25B4DwgiqoU/s1600/_Device+Memory_home_user_pictures_IMG00374.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/S9FWSDrw4PI/AAAAAAAAAcA/25B4DwgiqoU/s400/_Device+Memory_home_user_pictures_IMG00374.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463242691203621106" border="0" /></a>Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-20291882973431426392010-02-16T16:23:00.010-05:002010-02-17T21:22:38.596-05:00Ugly MeI started watching <span style="font-style: italic;">Ugly Betty</span> last year. When I saw previews of the show in the past, I thought it was certainly something I would not be watching. Instead, I've found that the quirky and creative nature of the show keeps me coming back every week. And it seems that weekly, my life is more of a reflection of the show's storyline than I could have foreseen.<br /><br />For instance, a few episodes ago a blackout struck New York City just when Marc needed to get his presentation to lower Manhattan in order to be promoted to an editor position. The building super had just installed an electronic lock on the main floor, and because of the power outage no one was able to leave the building. (Suspend reality enough to ignore the fact that in a power outage the door would be unlocked.) "Oh please," I said. "If it's that important, ask a first floor neighbor if you can climb out of their window."<br /><br />Cut to last week when I was at SeaTac's building and we needed to get to the train. We went to the first floor and the magnetic lock was stuck. Would not budge. In fact, the entire door frame was about to come loose when we pushed on the door. We went back upstairs to call the management company, then went back downstairs about ten minutes later to try again. Finally, by pushing my fingers into the space between the door and the frame, I managed to pry the two apart. Ridiculous. But I wasn't about to knock on 1A's door and ask if I could climb out of her window.<br /><br />In the following episode, Betty is informed that she has just won a Blobbie Award for her blog. (No, I have not been informed of any awards for my blog.) After asking her boss to introduce her at the ceremony, they hit a rocky place in their relationship and she decides to blog a rant about her boss and the situation. Of course the information in the post gets out to the masses, which goes very badly, and it turns out to be the worst idea for a blog entry ever.<br /><br />Upon beginning my blog two years ago, I decided that I would keep it upbeat and positive as much as possible, and I plan to continue in that spirit. Last week I had an unexpected development occur and I now find myself back on the job market. I will not be writing much about that development, but I will most likely be writing a little bit about my newest experiences in the world of unemployment. And I will keep it upbeat. I would not like for my life to parallel the Blobbie Award storyline.<br /><br />Despite the nature of this new adventure I find myself in the midst of (if you've ever been unemployed, you know what I mean), I am feeling mostly good about a chance to start again with a fresh perspective. Even though this means that I will not be moving anytime soon, I still feel a sense of renewal. In that spirit, I spent much of today rearranging my bedroom furniture while watching the snow fall all day long outside my window. It was a great day. Tomorrow I will be updating my resume and applying for jobs. Let's hope some of today's good feelings carry over into tomorrow's tasks.<br /><br />Through the course of the TV series, Betty has gone from an underling at a major magazine to an associate editor. I wouldn't mind my career following the general path of her career's storyline. You never know. It could happen. After all, Marc did manage to get out of the building and he did get his promotion.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/S3sbuzGmZrI/AAAAAAAAAa4/l7rRpE-TEKM/s1600-h/002.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/S3sbuzGmZrI/AAAAAAAAAa4/l7rRpE-TEKM/s400/002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438971465785829042" border="0" /></a>Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-30650953427974616352010-02-02T01:00:00.005-05:002010-02-02T01:40:06.538-05:00It's Decided.My roommate is planning to move closer to <a href="http://www.nyrp.org/Parks_and_Gardens/Parks/Swindler_Cove_Park/Park_Overview">the garden where she works</a>, and I am finally ready to get my own place. I am hoping to find an "affordable" studio in Manhattan at the end of March. I've begun exploring neighborhoods (in-person and online), emailing friends for any leads they may have, and figuring out the finances of it all. The neighborhood I am currently fixed on is <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Washington_Heights,_Manhattan">Washington Heights</a>. That is subject to change, but after taking a long walk around the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fort_Tryon_Park">Ft. Tryon Park</a> area I decided it is a neighborhood I would be glad to consider. We'll see what happens.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">More to come...</span>Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-62026277508528262812010-01-30T15:28:00.015-05:002010-02-02T00:59:49.313-05:00Kansas DayJanuary 29th is a good day. Though I've always been fond of Kansas Day, I've celebrated it with much more gusto since moving away from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kansas">the Sunflower State</a>. And I always like to find a good reason to celebrate.<br /><br />Last year Sterling and I celebrated together by making cookies in her apartment. This year we are roommates and I find that living with a Kansan makes the holiday even better. We had planned to make sugar cookies again on the 28th, but Sterling did not feel well, so it was up to me. I tried to use the Jayhawk cookie cutter, but all the detail in the tool makes it tedious to use successfully. I also tried to cut dough into the shape of Kansas, but some of the cookies looked a little more like Nebraska (<span style="font-style: italic;">blasphemy!</span>) and then the borders expanded into the surrounding states as they baked. I guess it's the thought that counts.<br /><br />By the end of the night I was reminded about why I should wear an apron when I bake.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/S2ScXdbx0vI/AAAAAAAAAao/twkiOQLMX54/s1600-h/006.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/S2ScXdbx0vI/AAAAAAAAAao/twkiOQLMX54/s320/006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432638977367724786" border="0" /></a><br />Fortunately, the cookies were a big hit around the office and I felt that I had done my part to spread the joy of Kansas to a tiny corner of New York City. After work, SeaTac, Sterling, Baltimore and I ate great burgers, tots and sweet potato fries at <a href="http://www.trailerparklounge.com/">the Trailer Park Lounge and Grill</a> in Chelsea. A dessert of Moon Pies followed.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/S2ScXE7phUI/AAAAAAAAAag/ulgqf4n_UaE/s1600-h/007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/S2ScXE7phUI/AAAAAAAAAag/ulgqf4n_UaE/s320/007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432638970790511938" border="0" /></a><br />Even though Sterling and I attended rival universities, I find that celebrating our common heritage and homeland only brings more peace and comradery to our little apartment in Brooklyn.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/S2ScW_Gj2JI/AAAAAAAAAaY/lHaZPd3hee4/s1600-h/013.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/S2ScW_Gj2JI/AAAAAAAAAaY/lHaZPd3hee4/s320/013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432638969225664658" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Happy Kansas Day, Everyone!<br /><br /><i>Ad astra per aspera!</i></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/S2Sdc6Z4AjI/AAAAAAAAAaw/vL3QyixVr5A/s1600-h/011+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 224px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/S2Sdc6Z4AjI/AAAAAAAAAaw/vL3QyixVr5A/s320/011+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432640170555343410" border="0" /></a>Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-7649961980075531142009-11-04T18:09:00.023-05:002009-11-06T02:11:26.407-05:00I love my apartment building. One of our neighbors just came to the door and asked if she could climb through my window. It cracks me up to type that. Perhaps I should clarify. She didn't have her keys and her roommate is traveling, so she was stuck out of her place. I have access to the fire escape through my bedroom window and it leads to her roommate's bedroom window as well, so out the window she went and into her apartment. The same thing happened a few months ago, except that neighbor was going to the apartment above me. It's funny to be able to help each other out in such an unconventional way.<br /><br />I've never posted any pictures of this apartment for all of my far-away family members to see. I suppose this is an appropriate post in which to do that. So below you will see my bedroom, our dining room and our living room (with festive party decorations), and our skinny kitchen and skinny bathroom, followed by a short video of my summer street-view from the well-used fire escape. And I apologize in advance if you've never wanted to see <a href="http://uglyhousephotos.com/wordpress/?cat=10">someone's bathroom</a> posted online. I'm just trying to give you an overall sense of my space.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SvIPztAkw4I/AAAAAAAAAZU/_kwD3xIzc3k/s1600-h/002.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SvIPztAkw4I/AAAAAAAAAZU/_kwD3xIzc3k/s320/002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400396284100395906" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SvISJ3FnxoI/AAAAAAAAAaE/PYdTQuqQVQE/s1600-h/009.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SvISJ3FnxoI/AAAAAAAAAaE/PYdTQuqQVQE/s320/009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400398863786296962" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SvIP0GrJE5I/AAAAAAAAAZk/y9C8vthuCnM/s1600-h/017.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SvIP0GrJE5I/AAAAAAAAAZk/y9C8vthuCnM/s320/017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400396290989822866" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SvIQ3VDKxeI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/jFydm-5UTLk/s1600-h/015.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SvIQ3VDKxeI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/jFydm-5UTLk/s320/015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400397445899929058" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SvIPz5Pl2oI/AAAAAAAAAZc/uLemHrDchIk/s1600-h/007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SvIPz5Pl2oI/AAAAAAAAAZc/uLemHrDchIk/s320/007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400396287384607362" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SvIQ36onTXI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/9jJ0YNXTyfU/s1600-h/016.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SvIQ36onTXI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/9jJ0YNXTyfU/s320/016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400397455989099890" border="0" /></a><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwxBysHsBAsuXW4XcXA_VvGbPBgrIl3e7ZHeu-4YO6nnJg18LXp_RA3i-52mz0co_CeGZkj8ZoJvDaRFetPzg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-51835657831994205722009-09-25T01:16:00.015-04:002009-09-25T01:45:06.856-04:00Glass and LightI thought tonight I would share some photos I've taken which show light and shadow on a few of the beautiful glass buildings in Manhattan.<br /><br />The first photo is of the Time Warner Center at Columbus Circle. After spending the day watching some great kids for a friend, we came out of the subway at 59th Street to see a large and ferocious-looking storm approaching. I told the kids we were going to make a run for their mom's office because we didn't have an umbrella and it looked like the rain would come any moment (though I obviously found time to stop and snap a picture). You can see the storm clouds reflected on the top portion of the buildings and the bright sky reflected below. I was pleased with the picture, but of course the image is not nearly as striking as the actual sight. (And in case you are wondering, we did make it indoors before the rain started.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SrxXciE891I/AAAAAAAAAYs/e3XiEqJEdHw/s1600-h/001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SrxXciE891I/AAAAAAAAAYs/e3XiEqJEdHw/s400/001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385275402123802450" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The next few photos were taken just outside of Ground Zero. SeaTac and I were on our way to meet friends at Michigan's place a few days before <a href="http://thehumdrumlife.blogspot.com/2009/09/to-remember-and-to-act.html">the September 11th anniversary</a>. I attempted to take photos using a variety of settings on my camera, but one can only do so much with a point-and-click, so most of them did not turn out very well, but I did find a few interesting images. The glass building on the left is World Trade Seven.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SrxXBxUrVaI/AAAAAAAAAYk/M3BibKNklu8/s1600-h/099.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SrxXBxUrVaI/AAAAAAAAAYk/M3BibKNklu8/s320/099.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385274942359819682" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SrxWwmqPtwI/AAAAAAAAAYc/fmr-qCDQ-JA/s1600-h/098.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SrxWwmqPtwI/AAAAAAAAAYc/fmr-qCDQ-JA/s320/098.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385274647439718146" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SrxYGv42MHI/AAAAAAAAAY0/XeVAxavlyko/s1600-h/097.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SrxYGv42MHI/AAAAAAAAAY0/XeVAxavlyko/s400/097.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385276127385628786" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SrxWkp7wpJI/AAAAAAAAAYU/KOdauyxWj0c/s1600-h/097.JPG"><br /></a>Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-9156687324200358812009-09-22T07:37:00.002-04:002009-09-22T07:40:52.839-04:00A Fresh Job IdeaI have some great friends who pass along job leads to me when they find something that might be a good fit. Michigan sent me the following job post from Craigslist today. I really do need a job, but I'm not sure if this is the career path that I want to pursue.
<br />
<br /><h2>need someone to sit on lap</h2> Date: 2009-09-22, 5:45AM
<br /><p> I have bad back problems, and need someone to sit on my lap for four hours a day ,it helps me straigten my, back I know it sound weird but it helps , willing to pay ten dollars and hour for four hours , twice a week , has to be in good shape and looking for a male to do it because they are stronger to do this sort of job, if you are interested e mail , this is not bs ,you could watch tv, use computer I will even give you food, please respond , thank you
<br />
<br /></p><ul><li> Location: lynbrook </li><li> This is a part-time job. </li><li>Principals only. Recruiters, please don't contact this job poster. </li><li>Please, no phone calls about this job! </li><li>Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.</li></ul> <p> Original URL: <a href="http://newyork.craigslist.org/lgi/lab/1386413954.html" target="_blank">http://newyork.craigslist.org/<wbr>lgi/lab/1386413954.html</a> </p>
<br /><meta equiv="CONTENT-TYPE" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><title></title><meta name="GENERATOR" content="OpenOffice.org 2.4 (Win32)"><style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { size: 8.5in 11in; margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } H2 { margin-bottom: 0.08in } --> </style> Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-32165131132535491752009-09-11T08:04:00.012-04:002009-09-11T10:15:56.553-04:00To Remember and To ActIt's a blustery and rainy day in Borough Park. I love the feel of a cool and rainy September morning. One of the joys (and sometimes pains) of living in a mass-transit city is that you get to walk in the midst of the weather, instead of being more insulated and apart from it. As I was walking to the laundromat just before the rain this morning, I saw the flag at half-mast in the local elementary schoolyard, and the memory of September 11, 2001 came back strikingly clear. The weather today is much different from what I saw in New York on the television eight years ago, but somehow it seems fitting that the weather is so dreary on this day of remembrance. I don't remember feeling this sad about that day for a long time.<br /><br />It is important and right that we move along and progress and improve after those terrorist attacks, but it is also appropriate and right to take time to remember and reflect and mourn the losses of that day as well. And I hope that in remembering, we will be motivated to make choices and take actions that improve ourselves and the world around us. It is fitting that the President declared September 11th a National Day of Service and Remembrance and that volunteerism was such a central theme of the memorial service in Lower Manhattan this morning.<br /><br />These are pictures of the Tribute in Lights from 2008. The first picture is from City Hall Park and the second is from my fire-escape in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SqpWB4vvUKI/AAAAAAAAAX8/fXBskd8uo6Y/s1600-h/SANY0613.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SqpWB4vvUKI/AAAAAAAAAX8/fXBskd8uo6Y/s320/SANY0613.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380207295259955362" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SqpWghKFXcI/AAAAAAAAAYE/yaBa9-gzBJ4/s1600-h/SANY0573.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SqpWghKFXcI/AAAAAAAAAYE/yaBa9-gzBJ4/s320/SANY0573.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380207821503946178" border="0" /></a>Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-35500113284659560322009-09-01T01:48:00.009-04:002009-09-01T02:20:50.239-04:00Look! Up in the Sky....<div style="text-align: center;">....It's a bird!<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/Spy3zTPooHI/AAAAAAAAAX0/LSLZ2tPN4Eo/s1600-h/031.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/Spy3zTPooHI/AAAAAAAAAX0/LSLZ2tPN4Eo/s320/031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376374147140591730" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br />It's a plane!<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/Spy2mZDgeXI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Wc9ruR1tCr0/s1600-h/029.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/Spy2mZDgeXI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Wc9ruR1tCr0/s320/029.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376372825850411378" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">No! It's a cleaning lady!!<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/Spy2ncfUuJI/AAAAAAAAAXs/-XaQdSyyGUU/s1600-h/030.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/Spy2ncfUuJI/AAAAAAAAAXs/-XaQdSyyGUU/s320/030.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376372843952257170" border="0" /></a><br />I was visiting some friends at the mid-town school office recently when <a href="http://citygrace.blogspot.com/">Michigan</a> noticed this woman holding onto a window so she could clean it. I estimated that she was probably about ten or eleven stories above 56th Street. We just stared at her in amazement... but not the kind of amazement which leads you to want to emulate the person you are amazed by. The kind of amazement that just makes it almost impossible to tear your eyes away from the person doing the stupid thing you are "amazed" by.<br /><br />I suppose I should clarify that I didn't just stare at the woman. I obviously took the time to find my camera and take some pictures. Michigan was the compassionate one, repeatedly saying, "Please don't fall. Don't fall, lady. Please don't fall..." I mean, really? Come on, lady! How badly do you need the outside of those windows cleaned? If the windows were for her, then she needs to re-think her cleaning chart. If the windows were for an employer, either she's just an over-achiever, or those employers need to be taken to task for expectations that are WAY too high (no pun intended). We have equipment for those sorts of jobs!<br /><br />I took a crummy video (I always forget I can't turn the camera sideways) that you are welcome to watch below.<br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwUNbfw3R_TI7w3UvoCLb0UeKBaVE67T4YojbhX0-mvyu0-e1w7UdhRmo9G_bTdAGAS45q3YULRhhgl-JpLuw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-56567811379807516132009-08-04T02:54:00.015-04:002009-08-06T01:32:58.823-04:00n-e-v-e-rTonight I want to reiterate the fact that I love my town. Sometimes I am a little disheartened when others visit New York City and don't really like it here, or don't even seem open to visiting the city and giving it a chance. New York is certainly not for everyone. I get that. But it is for me, at least for this time in my life. I fell in love with this city and I am truly happy to be here.<br /><br />I will obviously never be a native New Yorker. I'm not even sure how many years I have to be here before long-time New Yorkers will truly feel I am worthy of the title "New Yorker" (if ever). I will always be a native Kansan. Kansas is my homeland, which I also love. El Dorado and Wichita have been long-time and life-shaping homes for me. And I know I always have a home waiting for me in El Dorado or wherever my parents reside. The word "home" can carry various meanings. I want to stake my claim where I am and be a part of what's going on around me, and I like to make a home for myself in that place. And right now, New York City is my home.<br /><br />I feel like some people will not understand this, and I guess that's okay. I don't mean to offend with these statements. But sometimes I want to throw these thoughts out there and let them be known to whoever happens to stumble across them. And maybe in trying to express myself in writing, pieces of my life will become clearer to me, and to others if they want to follow along.<br /><br />My dad and I were recently laughing about how we used to say, "I'll <span style="font-style: italic;">never</span>.... [fill in the blank, i.e. go do such-and-such, or live in this place or that place, etc...]. We've learned we ought not to say that, but when we do, we quickly repent and say we didn't mean it. I have come to the understanding that I can rarely predict what will happen in my life. And I see that life has a way of surprising me with what's next. And even though sometimes that seems really crappy, it can also be really exciting and positive.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=James%204;&version=31;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.</span></a><br /><br />So I plan to be in New York City indefinitely. I refuse to use the word "never" when trying to make decisions and plans for my future. I don't know what's in store. But for now, I am happy to be at home here. And even if this town is not for everyone, I hope that when people visit, they will discover some of the things that I think make this place really wonderful.<br /><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=James%204;&version=31;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></a><br />By the way, I seem to recall saying on more than one occasion that "I could <span style="font-style: italic;">never</span> ride a bike in New York City. Those people are crazy!" Click <a href="http://thehumdrumlife.blogspot.com/2008/05/something-new.html">here </a>to read how that turned out. Or <a href="http://thehumdrumlife.blogspot.com/2008/06/tour-de-brooklyn.html">here</a>. Or <a href="http://thehumdrumlife.blogspot.com/2008/06/riding-in-rain.html">here</a>. Or <a href="http://thehumdrumlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/biking-again.html">here</a>.Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-1813650081849126502009-06-29T01:27:00.009-04:002009-06-29T01:52:58.362-04:00An Early Birthday PartyMy roommate is from Sterling, Kansas (which is about a two-hour drive from my hometown), and she will be flying there tomorrow to spend a week with her family, so she will miss my birthday.<br /><br />This evening when I came home, I had birthday greetings posted on our doors from the previous and current presidents of the United States, a birthday banner (with some Christmas tinsel) over our dining room table, fresh flowers and an American flag in the vase, birthday rubber ducks, a card, cupcakes and food on the table, and a birthday greeting on our chalkboard wall (which reads "Happy Birthday Matthew and America!"). It really made my night. For supper it was cheese doodles and fruit salad, washed down with hard cider. The salad had pears chopped up in it. I rarely eat pears, but when I do, I always remember my late Great-Grandmother P, who had a pear tree in her yard.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SkhVZViCCoI/AAAAAAAAAXM/1vHgFrKCNPo/s1600-h/014.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SkhVZViCCoI/AAAAAAAAAXM/1vHgFrKCNPo/s320/014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352622050894809730" border="0" /></a><br />While we ate, we watched the first four episodes of <a href="http://planetgreen.discovery.com/tv/greensburg/">"Greensburg: A Story of Community Rebuilding"</a>. This is a series about <a href="http://www.greensburgks.org/">Greensburg, Kansas</a> trying to become a "green" city as it rebuilds from a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greensburg,_Kansas">tornado</a> that almost completely destroyed the town in May of 2007. It was nice to see scenes from a familiar part of the country with a fellow Kansan (even <span>if</span> she did go to that <span style="font-style: italic;">other</span> Kansas university).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SkhVZpNgVdI/AAAAAAAAAXU/gjr1ryFnK1s/s1600-h/012.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SkhVZpNgVdI/AAAAAAAAAXU/gjr1ryFnK1s/s320/012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352622056177423826" border="0" /></a><br />For dessert we split three different types of vegan cupcakes. Sterling said they're supposed to be the best vegan cupcakes in town.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SkhVZEyYhqI/AAAAAAAAAXE/nQU903nP0N4/s1600-h/016.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SkhVZEyYhqI/AAAAAAAAAXE/nQU903nP0N4/s320/016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352622046399989410" border="0" /></a><br />I had a good early birthday party. Thanks, Sterling!Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-65580015924908095942009-06-25T13:49:00.002-04:002009-06-25T14:18:39.972-04:00I Need a JobI am looking for a job and I am about to go stir-crazy from staring at employment-related documents and websites for days. My brain feels lazy and doesn't want to concentrate for very long, even though I have given myself plenty of breaks. I will be so glad for the search to be over.<br /><br />I have applied for support positions at two local universities (which shall remain nameless, pending successful employment), and I think they would be great employers. Hopefully they will respond positively in the next day or two. I've also registered with two temp agencies in the City. It's not the best time for temp work, but we'll see what happens.<br /><br />Tuesday morning I found myself talking to a few men who were representing one of the jobs I applied for at a university. While they were standing and talking around me, a sturdy and stern-looking woman in a woman's business suit came riding up to us on a horse. As she approached, the men cowered a little and backed up. She was holding a collection of papers, and as she briefly and nonchalantly glanced through them, she said to me, "I see you applied for these positions. I am the Dean of Academic Excellence at [Such-and-Such University] and I want you to accept my position." After that announcement, she promptly turned her proud steed around and rode away, leaving me with a great sense of excitement at the offer, and apprehension as well, wondering if I would have what it takes to assist a woman of such caliber.<br /><br />Then I woke up.<br /><br />I think I may be losing my mind. Man was not made for unemployment.<br /><br />I am, however, still waiting with anticipation for a horse and rider to show up at my door. I don't know how she will get the horse up to the third floor. I guess she'll just have to ring the buzzer and wait for me to come down.<br /><br />I'm gonna take a break now and go to the beach for a little while. Maybe the fresh air will do me some good.Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-26806660963628440712009-06-03T06:54:00.006-04:002009-06-03T07:26:22.995-04:00Biking AgainI finally took my bike out for a ride after months of watching it sit idly in my apartment. I've been building up to this for a few weeks now and finally decided it was time. Two weeks ago I went on two short runs and afterwards my left heel was in quite a bit of pain. My heel is better now, but I know that biking doesn't hurt my heel, so it seems like that's a good alternative for exercise.<br /><br />Last night I came home exhausted from the day and sat down in the living room where my roommate was watching TV. Without much warning I fell asleep on the couch. My roommate put a blanket on me and left me alone, and a thunderstorm woke me up a little before 5:00 a.m. Since I was up I decided to check a few things online (I am currently job-hunting) and by 5:45 the rain had stopped and it looked like it would stay dry for awhile. That was when I decided to grab the bike and head out.<br /><br />Fortunately, <a href="http://www.prospectpark.org/home">Prospect Park </a>is a short bike ride from my apartment and there are beautiful paths that pass through trees and around a large meadow and lake, so I decided to try that and I loved it. It was beautiful and quiet, and traffic was light so early in the morning. I hope this will be the re-start of habitual biking for me.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343060758024894098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SiZdc19nNpI/AAAAAAAAAW8/fMokHzthDgo/s400/prospectpark.jpg" border="0" />Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1642310144366942287.post-77160699808708152522009-05-31T22:25:00.014-04:002009-05-31T23:21:24.678-04:00Recommended ReadingLast Christmas my parents gave me a great book from my wish list (because they are rock stars).<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.randomhouse.com/crown/worldwarz/index2.php"><span style="font-style: italic;">World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War</span></a><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SiNEpVlBDkI/AAAAAAAAAWs/7JL2fT4RvQw/s1600-h/WorldWarZ.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 260px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SiNEpVlBDkI/AAAAAAAAAWs/7JL2fT4RvQw/s400/WorldWarZ.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342189059949268546" border="0" /></a><br />Many people will find this a bizarre request, and perhaps even in poor taste for a holiday wish list, but it has become one of my favorite books. I recognize that it will not be recorded in history as an important piece of literature, but it was an entertaining and (surprisingly) intelligent book.<br /><br />If I didn't have a headache tonight, I would take the time in this post to explain why I think so. But since my head is pounding, I am simply going to suggest that you give it a chance. Why not? You never know. You might like it. And it might even help to enlarge your literary boundaries. This has been the case with me. Just last night I stopped at the Borders in Columbus Circle and purchased a Jane Austen novel, which is something I <span style="font-style: italic;">never</span> would have done before. I am engrossed in the book and have already read eleven chapters. <a href="http://www.chroniclebooks.com/index/main,book-info/store,books/products_id,7847/title,Pride-and-Prejudice-and-Zombies/"><span style="font-style: italic;">Pride and Prejudice and Zombies</span></a> has held my interest thus far, and I don't think I will lose interest in it before the end.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SiNE-6-NH2I/AAAAAAAAAW0/0jeTaYlJMU4/s1600-h/Pride%26Prejudice%26Zombies.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 264px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2k1C1euqKRc/SiNE-6-NH2I/AAAAAAAAAW0/0jeTaYlJMU4/s400/Pride%26Prejudice%26Zombies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342189430764281698" border="0" /></a><br />Okay, so Seth Grahame-Smith has expanded on the original text to create a new "edition" of Jane Austen's original novel, but I think it has really enhanced the story. True, I never read the story in its original form, but I can't help thinking that the addition of the undead in the English countryside has enriched the bantering and prattling on of the characters. And for those offended by these changes, please note that according to <a href="http://www.theweek.com/article/index/95249/Novel_of_the_week_Pride_and_Prejudice_and_Zombies_by_Seth_GrahameSmith_and_Jane_Austen">an article I read</a> in <span style="font-style: italic;">The Week</span>, "85 percent of the original text hasn't been touched". Isn't it worth sacrificing 15 percent of the original writing to get more people interested in such a classic piece? I think so. (I'm even willing to let people on the subway see me reading Jane Austen now, without embarrassment!)<br /><br />Fight on, Miss Bennet!Matthewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15757179955522417011noreply@blogger.com0