4:00am

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.

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.

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.

Vanity Comes Before a Storm

My 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.

We live in the middle of Brooklyn, so we are far from any of the evacuation zones. The NYC Hurricane Evacuation Zones map is below with a red dot that shows where we live.

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.

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!”

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.

Spoiled Milk

I 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.

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.

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. 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.

I'm not sure if charming is the right word for this experience. Perhaps perplexing and hysterical with a little awkward 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.

Crash

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 crash. 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.

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.

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.

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!

More Bikes

Sad Bikes in the City:

LaGuardia Airport (Queens)

World Financial Center (Battery Park City, Manhattan)

Washington Heights (Manhattan)

Broadway-Lafayette Subway Station: Brooklyn-bound Platform (Manhattan)

Happy Bike in the City:

Brighton Beach Boardwalk (Brooklyn)

'Tis the Gift...

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 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 my co-worker said they were a calmer group today)!


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.

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.

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..." 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.

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.) :)

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.

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free,

'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,

And when we find ourselves in the place just right,

'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gain'd,

To bow and to bend we shan't be asham'd,

To turn, turn will be our delight,

Till by turning, turning we come round right.

The kind of day...

...that makes me happy to be outside.

...that makes me grateful for good friends.

...that gives me hope for steady work again soon.

...that reminds me why I moved to New York.