30 Rock

Tomorrow I will be interviewed about my book by AnneLise Sorensen for her weekly travel segment on NBC. I owe this exciting opportunity to Julie Ross Godar, who is friends with AnneLise and suggested that she contact me.

Barring any last minutes changes in studio availability, I'm meeting AnneLise during my lunch hour at - drum roll, trumpet blast, gong bang, whatever other large noise - 30 Rockefeller Center! Yes, 30 Rock! Man, oh man, I am so excited.

At the same time, I am scared shitless. Not to be interviewed - I'm psyched about that - but to appear on HDTV. AnneLise suggested that I will be fine if I wear "just a little more make up than usual." Ha ha ha ha! Oh, if only she knew. That means I will look like a zombie with a little lip gloss* and mascara. Sigh.

*That, however, is not like dressing up a pig in lipstick.

Third Time x Third Time = Triple the Charm

As a kid, I hated math. Hated, hated, hated it. I was often absent from school due to illness (in the early years, asthma; in the later years, depression), and so the lessons I missed created a big gap for me to overcome. My junior year of high school, I explained to my math teacher that "I'm going to be a lawyer, so I don't need math."

Fast forwarding to the day I dropped out of law school and decided to get a public policy degree... Shit, all the public service programs have stats and econ in their curricula. But I suck at math. Oy vey iz mir! Much hand wringing.

Fast forward to my second job after college, which required me to use Excel for lots of number crunching, which was something I rather liked during a college internship but dismissed...Math is fun!

Ok, now that I am completely off topic, the point of my little subject line formula is to ponder whether the adage, "The third time's the charm," is truer if you multiply the third time by three. All of this comes up because, the 9th organization that interviewed me for a job offered me a position! And I accepted. So I'm very excited.

As long as I brought up numbers, here's the rest of my job search in digits:

• Number of resumes sent: over 60


• Number of organizations that interviewed me: 11 (12 if you count the place that called last night)


• Number of interviews: 15 (some were two step processes)


• Number of offers: 1


• Number of places that contacted me to request more info (like salary request or writing samples) and then never contacted me again: 2


• Number of times I freaked out and got a manicure: 1


• Amount of money spent on "respectable interview watch:" $40 at Filene's Basement
  Amount of money spent on lipstick: $1.99, when I realized that I forgot to put it in my bag and bring it with me, so ran to Duane Reade Pharmacy


• Level of anxiety about the whole situation: Immeasurable

So I'm very happy that I found a job in what I think will be a great place to work. My policy is to keep work out of my blog, so I'll just say that it is a position that requires writing and the organization works to increase economic and social justice in disenfranchised American communities. I'm psyched. Now I'm off to clean my bathroom...

Richard Peck Made Me Cry Today

The day started out well. I woke up a bit before my alarm sounded, feeling refreshed. After feeding Tycho the rabbit and myself, I ran three miles at the gym. Then I scurried home to purchase U2 concert tickets for Husband. For a concert on Sept. 16, 2010.

Ticket purchasing is not as easy as it sounds. First, he had to subscribe to the band's fan site. This runs something like $50. Then he received an email with a secret code that could be used to purchase up to four tickets before they went on sale to the general public. Since Husband was at a Very Important Meeting when his special group of bribe givers was allowed to give U2 more of their money, he asked me to click on the magic link, enter the code, and secure the best tickets available, at whatever cost.

Fine. How hard can that be? Except that he already used the code he provided me for tickets for a concert this past September. And I had no access to his U2 account to find his new entree to U2 happiness. The man asked me to do a simple task, and it distressed me to no end. He works hard. All he wants are some fucking concert tickets, and I could not provide. Two frustrating hours later, I finally bought the tickets. Yay.

However, I was late for everything else I had to do today. Among other things that did not get done in a timely fashion, I missed a call from an organization offering me a job. Yay for the job offer, boo for missing the call. I left the woman an overly enthusiastic message on her voice mail at 5:30.

Blah, blah, blah. Fortunately, I arrived at school on time to hear my favorite author from when I was in 4th grade. Blossom Culp, the main character in Ghosts I Have Been, was a hero to me back then. I wanted to be her. So all semester, I'd been waiting to hear Richard Peck. During his talk about writing, he said, "I write for lonely people looking for friends in books."

Thank you, Mr. Peck.

Hitting the Big Time - Inconceivable!

Last week was (another) rough week. This not having a job thing is really weighing on me. Even though other good things are happening, I've been in a serious unemployment funk.

Then, as I was moping around Grand Central Station on Thursday while waiting for a friend, I received the following email on my BlackBerry:

I'm writing to invite you to a live radio show at the UCB Theater in Chelsea next week, Weds, Oct 7th between 6-7pm. I'm sorry for the short notice, but one of our listeners suggested you as a guest, and you'd be in great company -- also booked for that evening is author/actor Wallace Shawn and comedian Brent Weinbach. We'd love to
talk about your book "Off the Beaten Subway Track" and get some tips from you about exploring NYC.

The show is a WFMU radio talkshow called "Seven Second Delay" hosted by Andy Breckman and Ken Freedman. Andy's the creator and executive producer of the Emmy-award winning show Monk, airing on the USA Network, and Ken is General Manager of WFMU, an independent radio station. They co-host Seven Second Delay, an hour-long
loosely-formatted radio show that broadcasts live from the Upright Citizens Brigade Theater in Chelsea and reaches about 30,000 listeners an episode. More information on the show is available here: http://sevenseconddelay.blogspot.com/.

Are you available? Interested? We also have a date in November we
could look into.

Am I interested? Am I available? Fuck yeah!!! Not only does it sound like a rad radio show with awesome hosts, but Wallace Shawn from the motherfucking movie The Princess Bride is going to be on. Missing that show would be inconceivable! (Which, I am embarrassed to admit, was more or less my reply. I am glad they still wanted me after I made that lame joke.)

This invitation perked me right up, and I've been feeling much better these past few days. I owe it all to Pamela. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Pamela!

As noted, the show is on Wed., Oct. 7 at 6 pm at the UCB Theater (307 W. 26th Street). It only costs $5 to see me share a stage with Wallace Shawn. Inconceivable, I know. The show also streams online or can be heard on the old fashioned radio at 91.1 FM in New York, at 90.1 FM in the Hudson Valley. I am major excited.

Don't Ask, Don't Tell

"Do you ever wish I was less petty?" I asked Husband as we sat in a taxi, returning from his brother's apartment.

"Yes," he said with no hesitation.

I have no idea what prompted me to ask him, but damn, am I sorry I did. I snarled and made nasty little comments for the next hour, as I could not help be petty. It will be so tragic when I do the first load of laundry in our newly installed washer dryer tomorrow and all his undershirts come out pink. Mwa ha ha ha...


Seriously, though, I am so excited to take the washer and dryer for a spin.

Things that Are Happening that Are Good

Too many bad things happened lately. I'm still displeased with how Congress favors lobbyists over the general welfare of the nation, distraught over the assassination of Dr. George Tiller, and enraged that Cheney is working overtime to undermine Obama.* Plus, I need a job. Worse, last Wednesday, my nephew wound up in the hospital with a distended stomach, and he's still there. Very, very upsetting.

Fortunately, things are starting to look up a bit. The most important is that Marcus is doing much, much better. On Sunday, the doctors finally came up with a diagnosis for him: necrotizing enterocolitis (NEC). While NEC is awful and scary, it also is curable, and his treatment is going very well. I spoke to my sister yesterday, and she said that Marcus is very alert and responsive, and also that he slept well the prior night for the first time in days, and thus was less fussy in general. I'm relieved, and looking forward to his return home.

Last night I presented a lecture at Adult Education, and it went smashingly. I had fun talking, the audience was wonderful, and the other speakers were great. I really love public speaking, especially when it is about something fun like taking a subway road trip. My brother-in-law was kind enough to video tape it (my new publisher, Turner Publications, which bought my book when my original publisher closed shop, asked if I could record the talk for marketing purposes), so I'll post it on CUSS when he has a chance to upload it. But, man, I just felt fabulous last night.

My third ray of sunshine is on the job front. In an hour, I have a phone interview for a position which I think will be very interesting. My fingers are crossed that the good vibe I had from last night will come through this morning.

Tomorrow, my friend Dr. P begins her visit with me. She got a job in Long Island, and is moving back up here from Florida this summer. Just thinking about her triumphant return to the New York area puts a big smile on my little face.

On the Radio, Part II

I think I have a voice for silent movies, but whatever - I was very excited to do my first live radio interview yesterday! In the event that anyone has a fleeting interest in foreclosure prevention and New York City, I think this is the link to the podcast. I come on halfway through the two hour program, and my colleague and I engage in conversation for 50 minutes.

When I entered the studio and saw the microphones and headsets, I thought I might throw up. My heart battered my rib cage. Fortunately, the host was an excellent facilitator with great questions, and my colleague was a pro at live shows. I quickly relaxed and had fun. I like radio better than TV (not that I've been on TV), as I did not have to worry about how my hair appeared.

Of course, the first person to call into the show was a raving lunatic conspiracy theorist type. Somehow, that struck me as appropriate. The rest of the show was great, and afterward, the host invited me to come back and talk about my book! Very exciting!

New Title

Starting sometime in June, I will officially be known as Aunt Suzanne to my sister's baby! I am so, so, so, so excited. I am also really sad that my sister lives so far away.

My sister told my parents on Tuesday night. My mom had asked her to print some pictures from my grandmother's birthday party last summer, so she stuck pictures from her sonogram in with the others. As my mom looked through the batch, she came to the sonogram shot.

"What's this?"

"That's your unborn grandchild," my sister replied.

"What? I don't have an unbor.... Oh!" my mom exclaimed. "Wait! How did this happen? I, mean, I know how this happened, but how did it happen?"

Last nght, my dad told me that he has not stopped smiling since he found out. "I go to bed with a grin on my face, and when I wake up, I am smiling." I know how he feels.

Today in Review

Between being offered a job and straining my right calf muscle while killing a roach, I forgot to blog today. Lame, I know, but there was a lot of excitement and squealing in my apartment, so I forgive myself.

First, the job. I was offered the position that I interviewed for back in October. Any confusion is understandable, as my blog post regarding that first interview covered the hot chocolate dilemma that the potential job posed. (Quick review: the shop on the ground floor of the building in which the office is located sells hot chocolate made from Leonidas chocolates melted in hot milk. This is a potential dangerous addiction, both in terms of the effect of my wallet and my waistline, which is sadly the reverse of what I would like to happen because my wallet will be thinner and my waistline thicker.) I am very excited to work again, although very nervous that working full time will not leave enough time for school. But it's a cool job, and worth the risk.

Onto the injury. I saw a six legged beast on its back, legs kicking in the air, next to a crack between the wall and the kitchen sink. Of course, I screamed. Then I attempted to squash it, but not too hard, as I did not want its guts smooshing out onto the sole of my slipper. In attempting to strike the proper balance, I managed to strain my calf muscle. What can I say? This is possibly the most pathetic way to injure a muscle known to humankind. It could be worse. At least the evil six legged critter is dead.

I Just Wanna Celebrate

Theo and Barack Obama* share a moment of victory in my apartment in the wee hours of the morning/late last night.

Man, last night was exciting.

*Yes, that is really Husband wearing a 99 cent paper mask he bought at a costume/card shop down the street that is disturbingly realistic, causing people to do double takes as when they notice a neckless Barack Obama with white hands walking down the street/on the subway/at an election results party/etc.

Karma Smiles Upon Me

To paraphrase Col. John "Hannibal" Smith, I love it when a good karmic plan comes together! On the heels of the bitch slapping I received from some pretentious wench in my workshop, I learned that my book, Off the Beaten (Subway) Track: New York City's Best Unusual Attractions was cited as one of ten indispensable guidebooks to New York City by Julie Schwietert at MatadorGoods. How awesome is that?!?! I am honored to be included on a list compiled by "A New Yorker who’s skeptical of guidebooks."

OTBST is also under review at a few travel blogs, and another travel website will have an article linking to the book soon. I may never write a literary masterpiece, but I like what I do, other people seem to like what I do, and I'm working to make it better. No complaints here. As "B.A." Baracus said, I pity the fool.*

*And I specifically mean the little ray of sunshine in my class, hopefully never to be mentioned again.

Mmmmm.... Mars Bars!

Yesterday I ate a Mars Bar. It's not one of my original stock in which I brought back from London in March or even from the second batch a friend gave me in April when he stayed with us for two short nights. Instead, I purchased it at a British shop in that gray area between Greenwich Village and Chelsea two weeks ago. I figured I could keep in the fridge until I heard back from New School about whether or not I'll be part of the class of 2010.

It turns out that the Tarot card reader I visited in early March was correct: I am indeed attending the New School in the fall!!! The call came today yesterday at 5:15 PM from the admissions office. I'm nervous as hell, but also excited. Whew! What a trip!

Speaking of trips, the Tarot reader's other prediction involved the chance to travel extensively or even live in another country in the next year. That seemed even less likely than getting into New School, so I didn't really think about it. Yet this too shall come to pass it seems: Husband's company asked him to move to London for four years. The relocation is to take place in March 2009. It is an amazing career move for him. When I didn't think I was going to get into an MFA program, I was nervous about moving, but pleased to have easy access to Mars Bars. I figured that I could apply to writing programs over there and keep my fingers crossed that I'd get in. We plan on renting a two bedroom flat, so there is plenty of room for visitors. (Hint, hint.)

Clearly, the New School thing is a wonderful complicating factor. For now, I plan to attend the first year of classes, then join Husband in London for the summer. I'll return to NYC for the second year. Hopefully, he'll be coming to NYC for work frequently and I'll get to go see him in London during school breaks. The thought of all this is scaring the shit out of me, though.

To put it mildly, there's a lot going on here - multiple tentacles of happenings, reaching out and grabbing. Lots of good and interesting things, but still, it is hard for me to absorb it all, let alone savor anything.

The Most Exciting OTBST News to Date!

The bookstore at the BlogHer conference will carry Off the Beaten (Subway) Track!!!!! And I get to do a signing!!! Man, I am so excited I can barely sit still. This is just the cream cheese icing on the moist carrot cake without nuts! (Since I am no cannibal, I try to avoid nuts in my baked goods.)

Details: The signing will take place at the BlogHer conference at the Westin St. Francis Hotel in San Francisco's stupendous Union Square on Friday, July 18th from 2:00-2:30.

This means more to me than just the first book signing of my first book. Not long after I started blogging, my friend C. (who is also going to the conference this year! yay!) told me that I needed to hook up with an awesome site for women bloggers called BlogHer. C. didn't blog, but she went to the first BlogHer conference in 2005 and had a blast. I checked out the site, liked it a lot (someone wrote about buying a wipe board that is installed in her shower because she gets so many ideas while in the shower and needs to write them down or else she'd forget them - me too!!!), and joined up.

Not long after that, BlogHer transformed into a its next phase of life and sought contributing editors. I looked at the various categories that were available and applied for Travel & Recreation. I figured that I went lots of places and was writing about them, and often before I headed on a trip I read what other bloggers were up to at that destination, so it would be fun. Let me reiterate that I had essentially zero track record as a writer and a blogger, but Lisa Stone read my nutty stories about the degrees of stench one might encounter in airplane bathrooms (a recurring theme to this day) and crazy rants about underwear in Paris, and she gave me a chance. I wrote about travel for six months before switching over to feminism & gender. (Currently, Pam Mandel is the amazing contributing editor for travel.)

That the debut of my first book will be at the BlogHer conference just feels so right to me. The wonderful people behind BlogHer could understandably have told a newbie like me to buzz off when I inquired about writing for them, but they didn't. Now BlogHer is offering me another opportunity to branch out. Elizabeth from Table for Five patiently worked with Barnes & Noble and Cumberland House to ensure that Off the Beaten (Subway) Track made it to this year's conference bookstore, despite some logistical snafus. My gratitude toward everyone at BlogHer is immense.

Incidentally, I'll also be leading the Birds of a Feather Meet-Up for Travel, since Pam is unfortunately unable to attend the conference. This session will take place from 12:45 - 2:00 on Friday, July 18. I'm getting as much insight from Pam as possible, so it should be a great conversation.

In the Hospital with Bubbe; In the Restaurant with Grandma

Today was one nutty day. The first sign was when I pulled out a clean pair of underwear while I was getting dressed. "Are these mine?" I frowned as I held up some big ass drawers. Then they fit. Ooof.

Next, I disregarded my resolution to not spazz and enjoy the month. After practically chewing off my finger with anxiety, everything fell into place. As Husband says, it all works out in the end. But not before I got myself worked up into a frenzy. Sometimes I wonder if I didn't aggravate myself if things really would work out, as if my distress is the trigger to a happy ending. Whatever.

Bubbe underwent a surgical procedure to fix a stent in her aorta today, and I went to see her when she woke up. She immediately complained about things, so I knew she was fine. This is good.

After the hospital, I went out to dinner with my mom, dad, and granny. Hijinks ensued.

"I'll have the boiled tongue sandwich," Granny told the waiter.

"Will that be a whole or half sandwich?" he inquired.

Granny gestured grandly. "When I go out, I go all the way!" She covered her mouth demurely and giggled. "Ha ha! That sounded pretty bad, didn't it?"

"Yeah, granny," I said. "You and your tongue sandwich, going all the way!"

"Ha! That's true!" she snorted.

The waiter looked disturbed for a minute before joining in the laughter.

And that perfectly sums up the first day of July.

Another Happy Post

Great news: Granny's test came out clean! Yay! Now we can really celebrate when I get home next week.

I'm still nutty about the New School wait list, but I am also foaming at the mouth (this time with excitement; I know usually it is with seething anger over something) over the invitation to my book party. My brother-in-law made it for me. His hobby is graphic design, and he is completely self-taught. He made awesome retro post cards for this "save the date" notification for his wedding last year, and his creative idea for my book party invitation (which Husband added to) is so over-the-top hip, that it's almost too cool for me. I don't know if Off the Beaten (Subway) Track will live up to the freakin' invitation!!! (I'll post it here when it is sent out.)

Now I am off to a meeting for a new consulting gig. I've long joked that my goal is to work for every community development financial institution (CDFI) in NYC before I retire or die, and this will bring me one step closer to my goal. (It would make it three out of six, and there's one that is so evil that I would never work for them, so I am 3/5th there.) It's funny, but a few things that I joked about in the last few years are actually happening.

Best.News.Ever!

No, I didn't get into the New School's MFA program (or rejected, for that matter). I also have nothing new to report about my book, Off the Beaten (Subway) Track (although I did verify that it will be out in early July). I am fucking psyched because my very favorite musical of all time, Chicago's longest-running, is back for a limited time after an 8 year hiatus!!!

Yes, Co-Ed Prison Sluts will amuse, delight, and nauseate audiences once again! Man, how can you go wrong with an improv comedy musical about life in a co-ed prison? The classic songs include: Shit, Motherfucker (about swearing at people who come onto you), Eating People (about being arrested for cannibalism), and A Book Can Take You Anywhere! (about the importance of reading). And who can forget, Hey, Little Girl, the most hilarious song ever written about child molesters? (OK, the only hilarious song about that topic. It's wrong, I know.)

Somehow, I convinced Husband that we must pre-buy tickets. (He's indulging me this one last time.) Who else is coming? It's gonna be GREAT!

I Have Proof(s)!

Wow, I really wrote a book! I mean, I knew that I wrote a book and everything, but it's sort of hard for me to picture until the galley is in my grubby hands, which it finally is today.

I've been too busy jumping around and running from room to room squealing, "I've got a book! I've got a book! Motherfucker, I really wrote a book!" to have sat down with it and looked at it closely. However, my preliminary pokes at various pages indicate that it looks cool. And, no matter what I write, I will always cringe when I look at it later and think about a better way I could have said something. Still, super awesome.

Now I just have to figure out how to get the comments on the galley back to the publisher. I suppose this should be obvious, but I've never worked with a proof before. Do I notate my corrections (like forgetting to thank my brother-in-law for helping me get the photos ready to include?) in the margins on the page itself, or do I attach a post it note thingy? Am I supposed to use official proofreader markings, ('cause if so, I better fucking learn them pronto)?

The galley came with no coverletter or any other explanation of the process, so I'll ring the editor tomorrow. For now, I'm going to continue skipping to and from the dining room to the living room, and vice verse. Whooooooeeee! I wrote a book!

If the Moon is Made of Green Cheese, Mars is Chocolate, Nougat, and Caramel

The New School logo on the small envelope jumped out at me when I reached into our mail slot to gather today's haul of junk mail.

"Alright, so I'm rejected," I thought to myself as I grabbed it. "At least I can eat the fucking Mars bar already."

I decided to open it in the hallway of the building. This was not such a great idea, as when I read, "I am happy to inform you that you have been wait listed for the concentration in Nonfiction for the Fall 2008 semester," I started jumping up and down. Had someone turned the corner, I might have knocked her over. I skipped through the lobby. At least I didn't squeal until I went into my apartment and shut the door.

Next order of business: attack Mars. Sure, I technically still have no idea if I'll be attending an MFA program in the fall (the wait list is active until June 30), but I wasn't outright rejected. A celebration of caramel, chocolate, and nougat was definitely in order. Especially after I ate a little sandwich bag that I packed with baby carrots, then noticed the insect in it as I was throwing the "empty" baggie away. Healthy is, like, sooooo overrated. And, according to the Mars bar wrapper, Mars bars are, "Suitable for Vegetarians," so everyone except those uptight vegans can indulge. :) Mmmmmm....

Now, back to waiting.

Happy Book News

Last night I had dinner with a friend who mentioned some potential copyright issues regarding Off the Beaten (Subway) Track that I've been worrying about for a few months in the far recesses of my frazzled mind. In fact, the worry was so distant (but gnawing) that I forgot about it until I was falling asleep tonight, and then I couldn't sleep because I got so nervous. I am sure that everything will work out fine in the end, as it usually does, but it's my nature to freak out for the most part.

While I was pondering the vastness of the universe, I decided to google the book and see if anything new appeared. And goodness gracious, I was delighted to discover that it is now for sale at Barnes & Noble! It's been on Amazon and a few other fine internet establishments for a few months now, but man, I feel like it's the super big times now! (I'm only slightly curious as to why it is not available at Barnes & Noble until July 28, which is 4 weeks later than Amazon's date of July 1, but I'm not going to think too much about that right this moment. I swear...)

Since I can't wake Husband up to share the exciting news with him, I am glad that I have my e-buddies and the internets to tell. And, anyone who will be in New York City on August 9th is invited to my book party. Just let me know, and I'll get you the details. I think that the fine day of filing and data entry that I have ahead of me (count down: 8 hours until blast off) will go by a bit faster while I think about being an author who has a book for sale at both Amazon and Barnes & Noble. So cool.

Hippos Lurk, But So Does Happiness

After my trip to the Bung Hole wine bar yesterday, I figured that I was due for some good news today. Initially, I was disappointed. Returning to work, I discovered that my the grant that my new employer uses to fund my position was revoked while I was gone last week. There's a chance that the funder will be convinced to give it back to them, but I won't know until tomorrow or Thursday. Cool.

When I got home from work this evening, there was still no word from either graduate program that I applied to. However, my answering machine did contain the best news possible: Monkey Girl said that Count Mockula had her baby in the wee hours of the morning! Both mom and baby are doing well. (And MG: I can't find your number, so can you email it to me or call me back?) Yay!

My advice to Zadie is to stay away from hippos. Although they look very peaceful lying around in pools of mud, they can suddenly creep up and tip your canoe. Or at the very last, scare the crap out of you with their bad teeth, which makes me think of that hilarious shark from the Strange Wilderness commercial.

Miracles and Non-Miracles

Yesterday, I was offered a part-time program developer job at a small grassroots nonprofit organization in the Bronx! It occurred to me that although I have thus far spent nearly my entire career working with community-based organizations by providing technical assistance and training, I never worked at one. I think this is going to be very interesting. Just as important, the organization does not work in the child care field. Step one away from work that makes me miserable! Hurray!

After my interview, I headed further north in the Bronx to take some pictures of the Lourdes of America shrine for Off the Beaten (Subway) Track. (Yes, a church built a replica of the miraculous healing grotto in Lourdes, France so that parishioners here can enjoy its superpowers. I love it.) Rain fell from the sky in buckets. (Yes, anonymous grammar hawk, I get that this is a metaphor.) I worried that I would not get a good shot, but lo and behold, the second I stepped into the church yard, the rain stopped. I snapped away, filled my empty Snapple bottle with miracle water (the same water source that serves all city residents), and went on my way. As I left the churchyard, it began raining like cats and dogs. (Yes, anonymous grammar hawk, this is a simile.)

Then last night Clinton took Texas and Ohio, giving her the ammo she needs to justify her continued ego trip - I mean, run for the presidential nomination - although it could destroy the Democrats' chance at winning the White House in November by inciting anger, resentment, and bad will all around. I'm not sure how many times I can say this, but damn, I miss Pat Schroeder. What a class act. The thought of a McCain presidency is overwhelmingly depressing, so I will try to not dwell on it.

Perhaps it is time to register for cheese making lessons. This way, I'll at least have some concept of how to fulfill my ridiculous plan B, which is to move to a sheep and goat farm in the UK if the US is subject to four more years of Republican rule. My anxiety is like a bull in a china shop mixing kashi with borscht.

Sigh of Relief from the Irritated Vagina

OK, this really has nothing to do with an irritated vagina, but I loved Working Girl's use of that phrase in her comment on my previous post and want to use it as often as I use the expression "beavers suckle beavers." Or more often, actually, as I never remember to throw my beaver suckling line out when it matters.

Anyway, this post is neither about irritated vaginas or suckling beavers or the cause and effect one might have on the other. It's about the relief I feel now that my MFA application is officially complete and ready for review. Am I mad that it took them weeks to inform me that my transcript was missing, leaving me to scramble at the last second? Fuck yeah! Does it infuriate me that it took an additional 72 hours for the admissions office to process the transcripts that I hand delivered as a result? You better fucking believe it! However, it is complete, and now I can relax and wait and see what happens. If I don't get in, that will suck, but at least I can take comfort in being considered in the first place. Not getting in because the admissions office never processed my transcript and thus my application was never reviewed would be frustrating beyond belief.

Plus, it is Friday. While I enjoyed my work project this week, I am really ready for it to end. Every day I stare for hours at financial statements and loan reports, crunching and recrunching the numbers. I can barely see straight at the end of the day. Even harder? Stopping myself from swearing out loud, which requires constant vigilance on my behalf. (I suspect that is why I am exhausted by mid-afternoon. Swearing is rejuvenating and entertaining as an effective stress-relief mechanism, so holding it in when I want to tell someone that the motherfuckers are driving me crazy with their constantly changing accounting methods is doubly harmful.) Pocketing that paycheck is going to feel mighty fine. It would be awesome to use some of he proceeds to hire someone to clean my bathtub for me so I can take a nice, hot non-vagina-drying bubble bath. I can dream, can't I?

Like a Booty Call, but More Professionally Satisfying

At 10:30 AM yesterday, I was sitting around in my pajamas applying for part-time jobs of various stripes. My friend Maria hooked me up with a good lead on a potentially interesting position, and amid all the ads for "women who look good in latex," I actually found something of value for grant writing. Expecting a quiet morning at home until I had to run several infuriating errands before attending an orientation for new faculty for my February teaching gig, I jumped when my cell phone rang.

It was someone who I used to work with who left and joined a consulting group. Through another lead from someone with whom I used to work (see the pattern here - it's all about connections), I sent a resume to another partner there last week regarding a part-time job. My former colleague wasn't calling about that, though. (I think they decided I was unqualified for that, which is true, so I'm not too busted up about it.)

"I've got an evaluation project for a new loan fund that needs to be done by this Friday. Are you free this week?" he asked me.

"Yeah," I replied, sort of nervously, as I wasn't sure I was qualified for this either.

"Great!" He breathed a sigh of relief. "Can you be here before 12:30?"

I looked down at my sea green pajama bottoms with a print of little Eskimos and igloos scattered about. "Sure. Give me an hour."

Hustling about, I finished the application I was working on and put on more suitable attire. Within 20 minutes, I was on the subway and I strolled into the office at 11:20. There I found a very cushy project and very attractive hourly wage awaiting me. I familiarized myself with the work, then took off to run uptown, then downtown, then further downtown, then uptown again. So, except for when I do a "phone screening" interview for another job today at 3 pm (yes, also through connections), I am happy to say that I am gainfully employed this week, with potential other project work to come my way in the future. Way better than a booty call!

My Cover is Out!

The cover of Off the Beaten (Subway) Track now appears on amazon.com and it looks bitchin'!!!!!

She's back! She's back!

If, like me, you miss the blog formerly known as One Weird Mother, you will be as ecstatic as I am to know that K. is back at MomVoyage! Hurray! Hurray!

The Mysteries of Amazon.com, or I'm #97!

One of the many ways that I waste time is to obsessively check the status of Off the Beaten (Subway) Track on Amazon.com. Will my name be spelled correctly? (Alas, as of this afternoon, no.) Has the description been updated? (Also, no.) Were the typos fixed? (Yes! Hurray!) Is the cover posted? (Not yet.) What's the release date? (July 1, 2008.) Generally, nothing changes from visit to visit.

Thus it was quite a surprise to discover that Off the Beaten (Subway) Track by Susanne [sigh] Reisman has a sales rank of #249,423 and is 97th best selling book of all the travel books about New York City. How could this be if the book isn't yet available for pre-order? Maybe I was wrong, as I am about everything else thus far.

It was experiment time. When I tried to pre-order the book, lo and behold!, it processed. And I learned I could save an additional 5% (58 cents!!!) by ordering now, bringing the total to $11.53 plus tax (and S&H unless you are an Amazon prime member or the total order is $25 due to other purchases). What a deal! It's the perfect 4th of July or Bastille Day gift for that special freedom-loving person in your life. Yeah.

Done!

I finished the manuscript for Off the Beaten (Subway) Track! Hooray! It is all very exciting. My agent is going to take a look at it, then it goes off to the publisher next week.

I think I am going to celebrate by buying a new pair of black tights this afternoon. My previous pair developed a large hole in the toe. If I go totally crazy, I may even also pick up a three pack of Jockey bikini underwear to replace some of my older undies with the elastic hanging out of the waistband.

Man, I sure know how to live it up.

This Just In!

My friend Alex Elliot, author of the awesome blog Formula Fed & Flexible Parenting, was invited to appear on the Fox morning news show, The Mike and Juliette Show. She wrote a fantastic piece yesterday about a ridiculous NYC ban on giving out formula to new moms in hospital gift bags. Read it.

I am excited to sit in the audience and give her a big thumbs up as she talks. I think it is no one's business to question why a woman uses formula. Do I follow other women around and ask them why they dress their preschool girls like mini whores? Um, I do. Bad example. I am a little nervous for Alex because the level of vitriol directed at mothers who do not breastfeed can be overwhelming, so I'm giving her a big shout out in advance.

Alex is a great mom and a brave woman taking a stand that is often unpopular, but absolutely just. I admire her greatly and am proud to be her friend. (Not to mention godmother to her kids, but I figure that her choice of a crazy ranting loon with mustard all over herself is not going to raise her esteem in the eyes of those judgmental freaks.) Thanks Alex, for being you!

Dotting the T's and Crossing the I's

It's 50% official. Last night I signed a contract to write an eclectic guide to eclectic New York City for Cumberland House Publishing, a small extremely eclectic press in Nashville, TN. I'm dropping the contract off with my agent (a friend of mine) later today. Needless to say, I'm pretty gosh tootin' excited about the whole thing. Little old me is going to have a published book out sometime this spring!

Yep, I said this spring. My manuscript is due on Nov. 1, so I'll be bopping around the City for the rest of the summer (when I'm not trying to fix the City's publicly funded child care system or in Chicago, that is) and most of the fall. Quite a bit of the sites have been visited already, as I worked on the proposal and sought a publisher, but there are still numerous places to see. This afternoon, por ejemple, I'll be hitting up the National Museum of Catholic Art and History in East Harlem, as well as watching kids fish in Central Park, and hanging out with free roaming peacocks in the garden of the largest cathedral in the US that may also be the country's longest ongoing construction project.

Hopefully, CUSS readers will vicariously enjoy the journey. Good times ahead!

Congrats, Sister!

My sister's dream has always been to be a teacher. She loved playing school when she was a kid, and for Hanukkah, my mom bought Sister's gifts at educational supply stores so that Sister would have a fully stocked classroom. Sister became a full-fledged camp counselor at the tender age of 15 because of innate rapport with the kiddies. She went on to college and earned a degree in elementary education. Then, she didn't find a teaching job.

Years went by. Her community, which she loves, is not a growing one, and openings for grade school teachers were scarce. She didn't want to move, plus her husband had been recognized for his excellent work with mentally ill and disabled adults, and had been promoted to a case management position despite a lack of social work degree. This type of opportunity would not come his way again in a new city.

She worked as the coordinator of a before- and after-school program in a public school. She oversaw the program's summer camp. She subbed. She designed winter break programming for kids at the local rec center. Time and time again she learned that teaching vacancies were filled by internal transfers before the jobs were even posted.

On Friday, Sister had an interview for a first grade teaching position. First grade is her first love. The interview went well. The committee said they would let her know about a second interview by Wed. Today she received a call from the committee at work. They had a follow up question for her: would Sister accept their offer and join their faculty as their new first grade teacher?

When Sister called me with the news, I was on the corner of 79th Street and Amsterdam Avenue on my way to meet the Big O for lunch. I cried. (OK, and I'm tearing up now too.) People stared at me as they walked by. I was just so happy for her. It's not only that Sister deserves this job; it's that the kids deserve to have her as their teacher. She's going to be the best.

Big Excitement

Out of the blue on Monday, I received an email from a publisher that I had sent a proposal to back at the end of January. I've been working (on and off, mostly off) on a book about fun and wacky things to see and do in New York City. The guy who emailed me (let's call him Publisher for now) said he'd be in NYC for BookExpo and hoped to have lunch with me to talk more about my idea. One of the things he specifically mentioned was where other than bookstores I thought might sell my book, which is of course why I asked everyone for ideas, albeit in a cryptic and vague way.

I just got back from our lunch, which was delightful. My main point was that I want to write this book because I really love all the places that I included, and I want other people to know about them and share my enthusiasm. In that vein, I will do anything I can to promote it and get it into people's hands. He seemed pleased by my eager beaverness. Publisher also said he thought a book like this could have a very long, steady life, especially if I am willing to do updates, which I totally am. We're both from the Midwest originally. Not that that really has anything to do with anything except my willingness to use the phrase "eager beaver" in an un-ironic way.

Nothing is a done deal quite yet, but he's going to get in touch with my agent. (My friend who helped me draft the proposal, and most recently opened my eyes about my lack of polish when it comes to writing memoirs.) So we'll see what comes of it, but I am pretty gosh darn psyched.