One Star!

I noticed a new review of Off the Beaten (Subway) Track: New York City's Best Unusual Attractions on amazon.com. Then I noticed that it was for one star. The last time I received a less than stellar review, the reader complained that the book only had weird and unusual attractions. I was curious what the problem was this time:

I was actually looking for places "off the beaten track" but this book had nothing you could not get off the net or regular tourist book. It's basically a listing of museums and churches. Very Very disappointing

I'm very intrigued by this. Partly because I don't agree at all that it is a list of museums and churches that you can get off the internet (without searching pretty damn hard, anyway - you can get anything off the internet with a little effort) and definitely most places are not in regular tourist books (although some are, and I put an unusual aspect of the place in my book, like the vertical tour of the Cathedral of St. John the Divine). Mostly I want to know what the person expected the book would be about. It has parks, restaurants, museums (some inside people's homes), a former airport, forts, churches, stores, and monuments. Aren't those what constitute "attractions?" I'm not asking to be defensive, I'm asking because I genuinely want to know for next time and there's no way to contact this dude and ask. Any thoughts?

Happy Anniversary, BlogHer!

Four years ago, someone took a chance on me. I'd only been blogging for a few months when I heard that BlogHer was looking for volunteer contributing editors for a new site they were launching. I rushed to their current homepage, noticed that people already claimed the topic I most wanted (feminism and gender), and saw that travel and recreation was still open. Well, I love traveling and do it a lot. I had just blogged a trip to France. I left a message with links to three posts (this was before I had any idea what HTML was, not that I'm an expert at it now), and hoped for the best.

Not long after, I heard from Lisa Stone, one of BlogHer's founders. She said that she "loved" my blog and offered me the gig. I was thrilled! (Re-reading her email today, which I just looked at again, brings tears to my eyes. Yeah, I still have an email from January 2006 in my inbox.) My first post - Introduction to Travel and Recreation appeared on January 22, 2006. I hoped for many things, but was not sure what to expect.

Four years later, I still write for BlogHer, although on feminism, not travel. It offered me a platform when I was just exploring writing. It offered me a platform when I sent out proposals for a travelogue I was writing about unusual things to see and do New York City. It offered me a platform when my book, Off the Beaten (Subway) Track, was published 2.5 years later. It offered me a platform to meet and be inspired by other women.

Sure, it hasn't been all champagne and roses. When I realized that my four year anniversary was coming up, I compared it to my marriage: sometimes I wanted to scream and stomp around with selfish, delusional indignity, but overall my life is richer, happier, and better in every way because I have it. (Husband was slightly offended by this analogy, but I stand by it.) I'm so lucky.

Bobblehead Suzanne: Online or On TV...

I wish that I didn't nod nervously throughout my interview with the wonderful AnneLise Sorensen, but I am glad that I didn't look like a zombie:



Thanks again to AnneLise for having me on her show!

Awesomeness

My cousin told me to say hi to Tina and Alex when I went for my taping at 30 Rock, but sadly, I did not see them. Heck, I didn't even see the guy who plays the page. Or Janice Huff, my favorite weather person, who I'd be far more likely to run into since I was on the same floor as the news. I think.

The lack of celebrity sightings did not make my first TV appearance* any less exciting. AnneLise calmed my nerves, assuring me that I did not look like a zombie with too much eye makeup. She also said she liked my pixie haircut. Once I saw myself on the monitor, I felt a little better. AnneLise and I sat in front of a green screen, and I thought the subway car backdrop that they chose was pretty awesome.

AnneLise was great leading the interview, and I had a fun time talking to her. The production staff was also very nice. After we finished, they asked if it was my first time taping for TV. When I said yes, they said I was very professional. It was just a super experience overall. I can't thank AnneLise enough, and I also can't wait to see the segment on New York Nonstop!

*This discounts various times that I showed up in the audience of shows, like The Bozo Show when I was a kid, or during my period of talk show obsessions in 1994-1995, when I made a comment on The Rikki Lake Show and possibly also The Rolanda Show. Also, I ever so briefly appeared eating hot dogs in MTV's episode of Real Life ("I Want to Be a Professional Eater") because I stuffed my face next to Tim "Eater X" Janus, who was featured on the program. Although exciting, I do not count these.

Suzanne Ilana Goes Public

My appearance on "Seven Second Delay with Ken and Andy" went very well last night. I had a great time talking about the book, although within the first two seconds I revealed my deepest, darkest secret: my middle name. I probably also burst the eardrums of unsuspecting listeners with my shrill imitation of my mom yelling at me. Fortunately, they let me stay and talk about the book.

To hear this outburst (and my love for the Masons Hall, Mother Cabrini Shrine, Enrico Caruso Museum, and Rev. Jen's Troll Doll Museum), there is a Podcast. I come on about 19 minutes into the show and blather on for ten minutes.

I was horrified when I noticed that there were also photographs posted (if I had known, I might've worn make-up), but I discovered that I look fine. Especially in comparison to Wallace Shawn, who rocked the house. Inconceivable!

Um

To prepare for my appearance on Seven Second Delay tomorrow, I thought it wise to review my last "Off the Beaten(Subway) Track" presentation. I put together a little slide show on subway road trips in general and some sites that are found along the A train. To my enormous horror, I discovered that I say "um" approximately every four seconds. (If you can stand it, see for yourself below. Between "ums", there is actually some intelligent humor.)

"Off the Beaten (Subway) Track" at Adult Education (June 2, 2009) from OTBST on Vimeo.

I always thought I was a good public speaker, but if everything sounds like that little talk, eek! If I can't get around saying "um," maybe I should try saying "ohm." At least that way I'll get some meditative benefits. Oy vey.

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.

The Two Star Review

There are sixteen reviews of my book about unusual things to see and do in New York, Off the Beaten (Subway) Track, on Amazon.com. Fifteen of them rated the book with five out of five stars. (I am humbled and honored!) In the wee hours of this insomnia-filled night/morning, I discovered a two star review:

This book is much more suited to people who live in New York or know the city very well. If you are new to the city is not a good way to get accustomed to the city, as the book doesn't really lay out general information and most of the attractions in the book are very odd.

The first part of the comment is probably true. The second part is definitely true, as it is a book about unusual things to see and do in New York City. The subtitle is, "New York City's Best Unusual Attractions." Amazon's description includes lines like, "Off the Beaten (Subway) Track is the first book to focus on the hundreds of off-the-beaten-path destinations in the city," and "These are the types of places and things that fit perfectly with New Yorkers' psyches and egos and satisfy the desire of tourists to see the unusual." Given these cues, I am not sure what else a reader might expect. Mission accomplished.

Honestly, there are some potentially excellent reasons to give it two stars. I find it hilarious that it was rated poorly because it delivered exactly what it promised to deliver. It's almost one of those compliment/backhanded insult situations. So, if you are thinking about buying a copy of Off the Beaten (Subway) Track, I hope you will not be disappointed that a book about unusual things to see and do in New York City focuses on places that "are very odd."

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.

My Lecture Tonight on Urban Travel

Adult Education is a Brooklyn-based monthly event series where various speakers present brief, multimedia lectures on a shared theme. Tonight's theme is Urban Travel, and I will be sharing some of the "treasures" one can find by taking a subway roadtrip with the A train. The podium will be graced with three other esteemed speakers discussing subway map design, subway sketch art, and people who refuse to vacate seats specifically designated for people with disabilities when a person who has a visible disability enters the train. (Part of me has extra love for the last one because the blog URL is so long: www.peoplewhositinthedisabilityseatswhenimstandingonmycrutches.com.)

Time Out New York selected the lecture to highlight on their Own This City blog, so you know it will be good. Plus, it is only $5. Bargains like this are hard to come by!

I'll have copies of Off the Beaten (Subway) Track available for $15. (That's a whopping $1.95 off the cover price!)

Critical Info:
Union Hall
702 Union St (between Fifth and Sixth Ave)
Park Slope, Brooklyn
718-638-4400

Closest subway: M, R to Union St
For other directions: http://www.unionhallny.com

Off the Beaten (Subway) Track: The Tour

The debut walking tour for Off the Beaten (Subway) Track was a smashing success! It was organized by the New York City Transit Museum, and all 30 slots sold out. The motley crew of explorers journeyed with me to the Socrates Sculpture Park, past a dental studio that displays weird dentures in its window, into the Cathedral of St. Demetrios to see the saint's ankle bone, through the Louis Armstrong House Museum, and onto the Queens Museum of Art. In between, we stopped at the Euro Market, at a pizza place, and at the Lemon King of Corona for refreshments. (The tour was blurbed in Time Out New York, too!!!)

Husband took many photos, including this one of me proudly leading the troops across the street:


I wore a ridiculous wide brimmed hat with a big red flower on it so that people could spot my short head in a crowd:


Plus my hat kept the sun off my ghostly face during the 88 degree day. It's the same hat I wore throughout my trip to India two years ago. I bought it when I was in high school, thinking it was the height of style. Now it is my touring hat. I still believe it is the epitome of fashion.

Stats

The year is 1/12 (8.4%) over already. For some reason, I find that reassuring.

I have completed four full work weeks (20 work days) already. I missed one (Friday) due to illness.

Thanks to a debacle* that had me spazzing for an hour on Friday while I was supposed to be convalescing, I finally discovered that from 8/1/08 to 11/1/08, I sold 960 copies of my book, Off the Beaten (Subway) Track. I don't know if that is considered good or not, but I'm pleased anyway. (BIG THANK YOU to all of you nice people who bought a copy or, in some cases, as many as fifteen - which is 1.5% of all sales. I'm lucky to have such supportive friends.)

I called my doctor yesterday to report my ailing condition. He said I should wait at least another 7-10 days before considering antibiotics. I'm at the point where I'm blowing out all the really yellow, thick, sometimes bloody (it's dry in here) mucus, so I suspect I'll be better by then.

Today is the second day in a month in which the temperature is expected to go above 35 degrees. (Although it is 30 now, it is supposed to get up to 45.) I have not left the house in 2 days. I'm debating whether I should go to a "porkapalooza" Super Bowl party catered by the infamous chow hound restaurant Momofuku or continue my self-imposed house arrest.

Regardless, happy first day of February and enjoy the 32nd day of 2009!

*Oh, the debacle is that my publisher is out of business. My agent received a letter on Jan. 30 that was dated Dec. 24 and had been sent to the wrong address informing us that most of the catalog was sold to another publisher, they didn't pick up my book. Hence, all copies were now remaindered (i.e. - unavailable for distribution) and my contract granted the rights back to me and the option to purchase them for $1.88 per copy to find a new distributor. FREAK OUT!!! I didn't even know how many copies sold. (And I still don't know how many were printed.) An hour later, my agent called back. He tracked the publisher down and was told "to disregard the letter. That deal fell through, and we sold the catalog to another company, which did pick up Susan's [sic] book." My heart began beating at a more regular pace again.

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.

Things I Know

I know that I am not a great writer, and probably will never be a great writer.
I know that I want to be a better writer.
I know that I decided to go back to school so I could learn more about the craft of writing.
I know that attending an MFA program was a scary decision because it meant I would have to confront my lack of literary skill.
I know that I am not a lyrical or beautiful writer, but I also know that it is as hard to pull off humorous writing as it is to craft a gorgeous sentence.
I know that, although I am not a literary writer, I deserve to have my writing treated with respect.
I know that one person in my workshop thinks so lowly of me that she thought it was appropriate to leave me the following comment: "My bologna has a first name! It's n-o-t t-h-i-s s-e-n-t-e-n-c-e, p-l-e-a-s-e!"
I know that the person who wrote such an obnoxious line of criticism is capable of writing lyrical sentences.
I know that I have a published book that seems to be selling well.
I know that two publishers asked me whether I would be interested in writing more books about New York City.
I win.

And the Lead Item in the NY Times City Room Blog Is...

What is the New York Times City Room blog looking at today on the internets? Why, it's the three subway road trip itineraries that I put together for WNYC!

Wow.

"Off the Beaten (Subway) Track" Hits WNYC!

Hear my thoughts on taking a "subway road trip" here. (I come in about 1 minute and 45 second into the piece), then read three suggested "subway road trip" itineraries here. I'm so excited that I'm shaking!

Thanks to Benjamen Walker for including me in his excellent story on "staycations!"

Beep Beep! Horn Tooting Time

I just adore this post that I wrote for BlogHer today about a crackpot new study that claims that the Pill leads women to choose the "wrong" partner. (The study involves 97 women thinking about taking the Pill, sweaty shirts, and sniffing. Sounds like a sound methodology, doesn't it?) There are days when I think I might be one of the dumbest people on earth, and then moments like know when I am so pleased with my cleverness that I sound like an egomaniac. What can I say?

As long as I am encouraging people to read things that I wrote that I consider funny, I might as well put out another plea for reviews on my book over at Amazon. If you read it and liked it, please let potential buyers know how you felt. (Even if you didn't like it, it would be helpful to know why.) Those of you who already posted something have my eternal gratitude. Those who post in the future will also have it. I don't think it takes long to post, and you can even use a fake name. How often does something that takes five minutes earn someone eternal gratitude?!?!

Guest Blogging at NYU

I'm pleased to announce that I was invited to guest post today at the NYU Arts and Science Blog! I used the opportunity to suggest a few small museums near NYU's Washington Square campus, and proposed a short "subway road trip" that is easy to embark upon from the NYU area.

While I have not been active with the alumni association at my school at NYU for a variety of reasons, I really do owe my current life situation to the university. I moved out to New York City almost 14 years ago (August 28, to be precise) to attend college there. Taking advantage of all my AP test scores, I graduated in three years, which was more than enough time for me. In those three years, I went through several dorming "situations" that made me relieved to be finished.

But in that same time period, I met Husband, "Big Giraffe" (who 6 years later became my high school friend Alex's husband), Steph, Dianne, Dr. P, Dr. H, and Dr. F, among other friends, at NYU. Through the Dean's Circle program, I was able to travel abroad for the first time, awakening my thirst for travel. And, of course, I began my love affair with New York. Although I initially planned to go back to Chicago after I finished school, I realized that I belonged in New York.

Eleven years later, I hope that love comes through in Off the Beaten (Subway) Track. I owe it all to NYU.

On the Radio

Thanks to a friend, a producer from WNYC, the NPR affiliate in New York, contacted me about doing a taped segment for Weekend Edition Saturday! I met him today on the L train, and we talked about the many cool things that there are to do in New York in August. As soon as it airs, I'll link to the podcast. I'm pretty much jumping up and down and squealing as I type this, but I promise I was (slightly) more articulate when we rode the train with a camp group from Williamsburg. It was fun! I hope I get more opportunities like this.

The Party's Over!

The release party for my first book, Off the Beaten (Subway) Track, was yesterday. I loved having people from various parts of my life at the event. There were friends from junior high, friends from high school, friends from college, friends from my public policy grad program, friends from my book club, friends from various former jobs, friends from my writing group, friends from the writing class I took this summer, friends of friends, family, and family of friends. (Whew!) I missed my friends from blogging who live around the country and could not make it. If only I could have set up a virtual book party, that would've rocked!

The party was a lot like a wedding: I didn't get to eat anything (for the most part), I didn't get to talk to everyone, and it was over in what felt like five minutes. I had a great time, and I think that everyone else did, too. I posted some pictures from the party at my flickr account. Now, the real work begins: promoting the book!

My mom, dad, sister, brother-in-law, and bubbe came in for the party earlier last week. (Very regretfully, Granny didn't feel well enough to travel. Her presence was enormously missed.) Overall, it was an overwhelming and exhausting week of fun. My family departed this afternoon, which is always hard for me. I don't get to see them enough, especially my sister. I was a bit blue this afternoon now that it is all over. It's always for me after an event that I've looked forward to for a long time passes. I'll just have to keep extra busy this week.

Book Party and Belated Birthday Wishes

Today's my book party! Other than the fact that I look like a bloated version of the villainess from Superman II, I'm excited. Fun shall be had.

Also, I want to wish my cousin Rebecca a happy belated 21st birthday! The big day was last Saturday. I'll never forget the day she was born. Our family friends were visiting us (the Reisman clan) from Florida, and we were just getting ready to go out for the day when the phone rang. I was already outside, waiting in the driveway, and when I heard the news, I ran around the lawn like the lunatic I am. I was so excited to finally have a cousin! Anyway, Rebecca's been living it up in Dublin all summer, so I'm looking forward to seeing her in a few weeks when she returns to the states.

My family is here until tomorrow (which explains my blog absence for the last few days). In the meantime, I encourage everyone to submit a period story to Congratulations, You're a Woman Now! so that I have lots of good reading materials for when they depart.

Like Mother, Like Daughter

Yesterday I emailed a reminder about my book party on Saturday. This morning I received the following response from my mother:

I'm sorry, but we can't make it. We have better ways to spend our time.

I querried her as to whether that included interior decorating. Stay tuned.

Probably won't be included in the press release...

The always wonderful Denise at Flamingo House Rules wrote a great review of Off the Beaten (Subway) Track that made me laugh my ass off as much as the book made her laugh her ass off.

My favorite line: "The penis jokes in the book - awesome."

Now, if only I could convince the publishing folks to include that in a reviews section on the press release...

(By the way, if anyone is interested in doing a blog book tour, I'm so up for it! Also, I'd forever be grateful if readers could post reviews on their blogs - which I would of course link to - as well as on Amazon. My friend/agent says it is critical to do so.)

Tell Amazon What You Think

One of the talented individuals who took photos for the book IM'd me on Wednesday night and said that his copy of Off the Beaten (Subway) Track (OTBST) arrived! I jumped up and down with excitement, but I also wanted to puke because I am so nervous about what people will think. I hope people will enjoy it, but if not, I'd like to know why. (Feedback will only help me with my next book, whatever that may be.)

If and when you read OTBST, I'd be grateful if you could post a review at Amazon. I'm not pimping for five stars (although I'll take 'em if I earn 'em!), but honest comments. Reviews can be submitted under a pen name, although that is not initially clear when you log in. So if you hate it but don't want me to know, or you love it and want to stalk me, you can do it under a fake name and I'll never be wiser.

As always, I hope that CUSS readers know how grateful and appreciative of all the support you have given me throughout this process, and your enthusiasm for the book. It's just so wonderful to have a network of people, and I promise to return your energy when you write your books.

Book Signing at BlogHer

I'll be signing my book, Off the Beaten (Subway) Track, at the BlogHer Conference at the Westin St. Francis Hotel in San Francisco on Friday, July 18. The official signing is from 12:15 - 12:45. (Note the time change, although if you didn't write down another time, ignore this note.) Books are available on site.

I hope I will see you there!

Big Kudos

I know nothing about building websites or graphic design. Hence I owe enormous thanks to two men for helping me put together a fantastic (new) website for my book, Off the Beaten (Subway) Track.

My friend Alex's husband (blog name: Big Giraffe, or BG), very kindly put together a website for my book several months ago. He asked me what I wanted, and I said something that conveys information about what the book is about, where to buy it, and how to get in touch with me. He produced a great site that was simple enough for even a tech-idiot like myself to update, and included elements like an upcoming events sidebar. It's been great!

My brother-in-law, who runs a home cooking events business called Hot Pot, is not only a marketing guru, but a graphic design genius. He designed the awesome invitation for my book party, and thought that he could cook up something snazzy along those lines for the website. Using BG's framework and his enormous creative skills, Off the Beaten (Subway) Track looks super cool.

Once again, I am left to hope that the contents of the book can live up to its packaging!!! Thanks to both my brother-in-law and BG for all their hard work. I am so grateful.

Perusing My First Copy of My First Book at My Apartment

While I was out and about yesterday, a preview copy of my book arrived! Although it was well after 11 pm, I ripped open the package and (pretended) to read while Husband took pictures. Weirdly, it feels less real now than ever, but still super exciting.

(Also, I love the funny details of my cluttered apartment that appear in the background. For example, the wood piece on the wall with junk hanging off it (a rabbit bead necklace my mother-in-law got me in New Orleans; tassels from my graduation from NYU; scissors that someone gave me in 3rd grade; a cross-stitch I made of a tabby cat that I changed the color scheme for so that it would be psychedelic; a bookmark; and a hamsa - a Jewish object to ward off the evil eye - my Israeli relative made) is something I made in 6th grade. The pictures on the entertainment center are of me and Husband at our wedding (bottom); my sister's husband, Dr. P, Husband, and me at a picnic in Central Park (second from bottom); Dr. P and I at an Oktoberfest party (second from top); and my sister and I at her wedding, and Husband and I cutting the cake at our reception. A menorah I got from my Bubbe and Grandpa is in front of those pictures, and the tabernacle cover opens to reveal the ten commandments. I always loved that menorah when I was growing up.)

FYI - My book signing time at the BlogHer Conference has changed. It is still on Friday, July 18, but now will take place from 12:15 - 12:45.

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.

It's the Coolest Invitation Ever Made

Click on the picture for a larger version. It's chock full of little details, like the reflection of the CUSS sticker in the subway door window!

Is my brother-in-law not supremely talented?!?!

More Reading

While I marvel at the fact that a publisher is letting me write things like:

In a secluded corner of the park near the water, a man stood masturbating (or possibly shaking off after urinating) in the bushes. I am fairly sure this was not a performance art piece, as the park’s other visitors were assiduously ignoring him.

in my book about unusual things to see and do in New York City, and at the same time hoping that whatever evil pain has possessed my back goes away before I leave tomorrow to visit my bestest buddy Dr. P (who I have not seen since September - sob!) in Florida, others may want to check out a depressing essay about the overwhelming guilt I feel about not wanting to have kids in light of Holocaust Remembrance Day, which is today, and/or an inspiring article about two interesting women working in different ways to bring reform to fundamentalist Muslim communities.

I believe that the above is the longest run-on sentence I ever produced.

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!

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.

Feeling Like a Dinosaur

Husband's off to Europe for work. It's very quiet in here, except for the episode of Myth Busters that is blaring from the TV to cover up how quiet it is in here. I'd rank the effectiveness of the TV-blaring strategy as low right now.

I have a stomach ache that could kill a large animal. In fact, it makes me wonder if the dinosaurs did not become extinct because they all ate Uighur (pronounced "way-wooer")* food for a late lunch, then chased it down with an early vegetarian Indian dinner. They had very little brains, after all, as apparently do I.

*Uighurs are "a Muslim Turkic group who historically served as guides along the ancient trade routes," according to Robert Sietsma's Village Voice review of Cafe Kashkar, the restaurant at which I consumed the potentially fatal late lunch. It's in Brighton Beach, a community of Russians and other Eastern Europeans in Brooklyn. I was in the neighborhood with my new bestest friend Roger, who heroically filled in as a photographer for my book at the last minute after my friend Stef got food poisoning. (She did not get food poisoning from Cafe Kashkar, though.)

Uighur cuisine is tasty stuff, but also greasier than my hair when I haven't washed it in three days, which I haven't, but that's another story. I knew I was in for imminent future bad times as I shoveled the slick foods down my gullet, and for no good reason decided to make matters worse by meeting Dr. H for dinner and ordering deliciously rich Indian food (vegetable korma and paneer makhani - mmmmmmm). Assuming I do not explode, I will consider this a lesson learned.

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.

Seeing Double

I know that I am tired and should be in bed, not fucking around googling myself and my book Off the Beaten (Subway) Track to see if anything new and exciting is out there, but I am fairly certain that when I found the book on Amazon.com in Germany, Canada, the UK, and France, it credits both sort of me, Susanne Reisman, and me, Suzanne Reisman, as the authors. However, I actually prefer that the book be credited to me and sort of me rather than just sort of me, as Amazon.com in the US and Japan do.

One day, I hope Susanne Reisman will go away. I don't like sharing credit with sort of me for all the hard work I did. (Do you ever feel like you've gone insane but clearly it's not you? This is like that.) In other news, there's actually an editor working on the book now, so perhaps this will be corrected. Plus, now that Husband won his football pool, anyone who comes to the book party (which for now I am planning to host on the first Saturday in August - mark your calendars) will be treated to onion rings!* How awesome is that?

*Assuming that I can book the place that I have in mind, which is a site in the book.

My Cover is Out!

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

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.

Come Ride the Roller Coaster with Me!

This afternoon I spoke to the publisher about some changes that need to be made to the book's description on Amazon.com, including the fact that my name is incorrect. It'll all be fixed, he assures me then asks what I think of the book's cover.

"Um, I haven't seen it," I point out.

"Oh! I'll send it to you then. I think you'll like it," he cheerfully responds.

A few hours later, I find a very cool .jpg in my email in-box. My name is correct! The cover rocks hard! I rejoice. Steph comes over for dinner and I show it to her. She agrees that it is bitchin.' I print a copy to gloat over for when I get home.

More hours later, Husband arrives back from his business trip. I show him the picture on the computer. He also agrees that it kicks ass. I pick up the print out of the picture. Suddenly, I am speechless. The fucking title is wrong. Sighing, I email the publisher about the mistake. In my in-box is a comment from some sharp-eyed anonymous person left on CUSS. This person notes that the Amazon.com blurb is riddled with typos that I didn't previously notice.

Grrrr.....

Name Change

Remember how I was all against changing my name when I got married? Well, nothing is different there. However, I did discover that my book was assigned an ISBN number, and the author credited with writing the master pizza (as I like to call it) is Susanne Reisman. Check it out on Amazon.com. Houston, we have a big fucking problem.

I'm only freaking out a little bit. OK, that is a lie. I am in full on spazz mode.

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.

The Week in Preview

Is October almost halfway over already? Sometimes time crawls by on its hands and knees like a dehydrated person seeking rehydration pills from a crabby pharmacist in a horrid chain pharmacy. Other times, it passes me by like all those assholes who refuse to stop their cars at red lights.

Sorry, I got carried away for a moment there. The point is that October is almost over and that means that this upcoming weekend is my brother-in-law's wedding. In terms of how that affects the hilarious stories that I strive to write for CUSS, I am happy to announce that the whole mispucha (the entire gang, i.e. - my whole family) will be trekking out east for the celebration. Yes, everyone - Mom, Dad, Bubbe, Granny, Sister, and Sister's Husband. (And of course cousin Rebecca will be there too, although she only has to take the train down from her school in Westchester County.) There is no doubt in my mind that stories will be generated. I'll build the anticipation by pointing out that Bubbe has been looking forward to meeting my 13 lb. pet rabbit Tycho for five years, and that she used to raise and cook rabbits when she was a girl in the Old Country.

This week I also hope to complete my second draft of my book, Off the Beaten (Subway) Track. (I finished the first draft last Wednesday and wound up my pen-and-paper revisions on Friday.) I'm fairly happy with what I've got. The goal is to write something that is fun, amusing, and informatively inspiring, and I think I did a good job with that. Things need to be prettied up, though, before I have to turn it into the publisher on Nov. 1, which will be here before I know it.

To prove how quickly time flies, on Monday morning I'll be going to the grand opening ribbon cutting of an affordable housing development with a child care center. It seems like just yesterday that I had a job in which I provided a small grant for the child care portion, then stood with my friend Maria in a treeless empty lot on a 110 degree day while politicians spent 10 minutes each talking about how their speeches will be short because it is so hot out during the groundbreaking ceremony. Things have changed so quickly. It's amazing.

The Magic Number is 92

My cold is 92% over. When I finally printed a clean list of all the places that are included in the book, I realized that I miscounted how many there were. (Too many side notes all over the sheets threw me off.) There are 100 sites (how coincidentally round!) and as of yesterday, I wrote about 92 of them. I can take the afternoon off with a clean conscience.

My friend Hanah is in town for her brother's wedding. We have been friends since 1990 (not a 92, but close), although we've lived in the same place for only four of those years. Last night as I thought about our friendship, I cracked up as I recalled writing letters to her during my English class while I was a high school senior and she was a freshman in college. Letters! Who writes letters these days? I could not wait to go to college myself and get one of those new-fangled "e-mail" accounts. Given my reliance on email now, those days seem like 92 light-years ago.

This afternoon, Hanah and I plan to wander around the city and sample chocolate, then have tea. How civilized. I can't wait to see her.

Write, Write, Write Your Stories

Did I claim that my allergies were bothering me yesterday? I lied. A big, fat, nasty cold is punishing me for thinking such mean thoughts about that hapless guy at the pharmacy. (Urban Pedestrian and Average Jane pointed out in the comments to this morning's post that there are pills that sort of do what the guy wanted.)

The only good part about my situation is that today and tomorrow are writing days. I want to finish the first draft of the book by Monday. (Originally, I planned on Friday, but then realized that my last site visit is on Saturday.) As long as I am required to be cooped up in my apartment, I can deal with a cold. Plus, I was excited to discover a blurb about the book in Publishers Weekly. It came up on a google search I did on myself (that sounds perverted, doesn't it?) and said, "Suzanne Reisman's OFF THE BEATEN (SUBWAY) TRACK, an alternative guidebook to all that is strange, weird and wonderful about New York City's often overlooked ..." When I tried to look at the website, it said I need to pay to be a member. (If anyone out there has access to this and can let know what it says, that'd be awesome.)

This morning I also wrote an essay for BlogHer about the bullshit that goes on during Breast Cancer Awareness Month. The conclusion makes me particularly proud:

Don't buy products you didn't plan on buying anyway. If M&Ms were on your shopping list, then it can't hurt to buy a pink bag instead of a regular one. That's an extra 14 cents (or however the math works out) that will now go to breast cancer causes that you would have spent anyway. But if M&Ms were not on your list, why not just donate the bag's purchase price directly to a cause you support? Not only will the organization get the full benefit of the $3.25 (or however much a big bag of M&Ms cost), you can also write the amount off of your taxes, fattening your own bottom line (and this was NOT meant to be a pun, although it is certainly applicable in my own life) instead of some corporation's.

Thank goodness I amuse myself.

Pitch Perfect

Yes, the title of this post could be another reference to baseball, but I swore I was not going to bore people with my Mets obsession any more, and I intend to keep my word. Instead, this post is about the tour that I took this morning of the Steinway piano factory. I may be tone deaf, but I do know any awesome tour when I take one.

I knew it was going to be good when I was handed goggles upon my arrival. The tour goes right through the working shop floor, and it was incredibly cool to see how grand pianos get put together. The guides were funny and passionate about the history of the factory and also the neighborhood in general. Plus, as a part of the tour, I got to take home souvenirs - a piece of veneer and a rejected hammer from the key mechanism. Throw in the goggles, and this rocks the house.

After the two hour tour of the factory, I wandered around Astoria and Long Island City for awhile. I "investigated" several bakeries (Tsoureki - Greek Easter bread, also known as epiphany bread - is way yummy; crappy cheap tartufo is not) and munched a souvlaki on a stick on my way to the special graffiti warehouse. During my meanderings, I remembered why I currently have the best job in the world. (Maybe that was my special bread epiphany?) Yay!

New Month, New Hope?

Maybe it is just me, but September? Really fucking sucked overall. While it began and ended with visits from two close friends, I spilled an enormous number of tears over various trials and tribulations. October seems to have some promise to be better, though.

Oct. 6: One year anniversary of my last day with my wretched former employer
Oct. 13: Steph is visiting
Oct. 18-21: My family will be in NYC to attend Brother-in-Law's wedding
Oct. 19: Two year blogiversary of CUSS!
Oct. 31: Halloween (Although I doubt that I can squeeze into my dirndl this year, I still look forward to the Festival of Candy. Of course, that is exactly why I can't fit into my dirndl anymore.)

If I'm lucky, I can squeeze in a trip to Pittsburgh to see my old friend J. (aka the Sauce). The book is due on Nov. 1, so it depends how the writing is going. I think I'm right on track, if not a bit ahead of schedule, so if she's free, that would be great. Now if the little rain cloud that hovered over me almost all September would dissipate, that would seal the deal.

Enjoy your October.

Goals/Gaols

Today's goal is to finish writing up all my lower Manhattan site visits. As I was thinking about my goals in general, my head got the word confused with "gaol." "Ha ha ha," I thought to myself, "isn't it weird that the two words are spelled the same way?" Then I remembered that they weren't spelled the same way, although sometimes goals are like little gaols that trap you, aren't they?

Maybe I need to get out more.

The Hills, SI-Style

This may sound crazy, but hear me out before you call to have me committed: Staten Island may very well be the most interesting borough in New York City. On a visit to the most suburban, whitest (approximately 80% of the population versus 57% in Manhattan, according to the 2000 Census) borough, I was shocked to discover many things.

Forget Lauren Conrad and her stupid exploits on the MTV reality show, The Hills. Staten Island is also very hilly, and the hills are alive with the sound of music - rap, salsa, and hip hop blaring from car stereos and apartment windows. Also, there are a number of Latin American restaurants and soul-food joints that tempted me with delectable aromas as I sweat my ass off climbing up and down the hilly, winding streets. I replenished my fluids with a refreshing ice tea that I purchased at a gay-friendly (hello, rainbow flag!) coffee house across the street from Ira's Curiosity Place and Mood Swings, two store specializing in antique junk and other random crap.

The site visits for the book I am writing about attractions that are off the beaten path are nearing completion, and of all the places I trekked around in, Staten Island surprised me the most. Not that I was not consistently delighted by the Bronx, Queens, Brooklyn, and Manhattan - I totally was - but I expected to be. Staten Island definitely has its hidden quirks, which makes it as fascinating as its more diverse borough cousins.

I'm in the Army Now

After an hour, the subway train finally pulled into the Bay Ridge station in Brooklyn. I ambled up the stairs and decided to check the large area map on the mezzanine level of the station to make sure that I really knew how to get to John Paul Jones Park. Turns out that the crappy park map that I printed was correct, and as I turned to leave the station I noticed that the map indicated that the Harbor Defense Museum was in a green area adjacent to the one I planned to see. Score!

John Paul Jones Park is known colloquially as Cannonball Park because of the enormous black cannon pointed at the Verrazano Bridge. "Stay out, Staten Islanders, or suffer the consequences!" I laughed to myself when I saw the cannon's position. Surrounding the monster weapon are 29 cannonballs, each one the size (although not weight) of a beach ball. Of course, there are no signs explaining what the cannon and its ammo is doing in the park pointing at Staten Island, so my theory seems as reasonable as any.

I studied the scene for approximately 2.5 minutes before moving on and noticing a strange monument to Giovanni da Verrazano, "the first European" to stop by, and some random Italian-American man who spent his life promoting the humanitarian contributions of Italians. Chuckling, I continued toward the Harbor Defense Museum. Let me say that it strikes me as hard to randomly find oneself on an Army base, but as fate would have it, that's where the museum was. Huh. Who even knew that there were active Army bases in the City? You learn something new every day.

Lesson #2 of the day: regular folks can't buy things from stores on Army bases. I was pretty hungry after Irwin, an eager World War II veteran ("I invaded Sicily," he announced when I walked into the museum), "showed" me around. Mainly, he liked making fun of early Americans, noting that the Continental Army at first consisted of illiterate farmers, bums, and drunks. "The British couldn't understand how these rednecks managed to kill any of their soldiers," he confided. Thirty minutes later, Irwin hustled me out and I headed to the base store, where my attempt to purchase a 69 cent pack of Fig Newtons was smacked down when I could not produce proper ID.

I settled for a vending machine (which didn't discriminate against civilian money) and wolfed down a 3 Musketeers bar as I headed back into society. As I passed by a large rock with a plaque placed by the traitorous organization known as the New York Division of the United Daughters of the Confederacy noting that General Robert E. Lee lived on the base from 1841-1846, it took all my willpower not to spit on it. Instead, I made faces at the rock, shook my head, and muttered a lot about how utterly fucked up the US is that we honor traitors at our military bases. Given our national history, it almost makes sense that we are at a point where we send the people who live on this base to die in Iraq so that our leaders and their cronies can enrich their pockets.

Into the Woods

If you are ever looking for a place to escape from the urban environment of Manhattan, but have no interest in leaving the island, the north end of Central Park is woodsy and quiet. If you really want to get away without going anywhere, you must head to Inwood Hill Park. This is where I found myself on Friday morning.

Someone from my book club told me that there is a rock in Inwood Hill Park that marks the spot where Peter Minuit bought Manhattan from the (a?) Native American tribe occupying it in 1628. Since I had no idea where this was, I thought it would be wise to head to the nature center/visitor center first. The Urban Park Ranger on duty (ha! I said doody!) gave me a map and told me which trails made for good sightseeing, but no poison ivy. Yes, I said trails and poison ivy.

All went well at first. The rock was easy to find (and also marks the spot of what used to be the oldest, biggest tree in NYC - a tulip tree that grew to 160 feet high with a circumference of 20 feet and lived about 280 years before it died in the 1930s). As I set off on the trail, I marveled at the beautiful woods that seemed like they might be easy to get lost in, although the ranger assured me that all roads eventually lead out of the park since it is not that big. I also reflected on the various little personal problems I've been having lately.

Before I knew it, I was lost. Or sort of lost, but how could I use my cell phone to call for help if I was really lost? What would I say, "Hi! I'm lost in Inwood HIll Park by some trees and rocks?" What if I wandered around in circles until it got dark and then coyotes (who I am certain do not live in the park) ate me? In the back of my mind, I was pretty sure that homeless people were found living in the woods, and worse, a few years ago a woman was murdered there.

After panicking for a minute, I decided that I would just retrace my steps and eventually I'd find the haven of the urban jungle. I also committed to return to the park with another person next time. It's funny how I don't think twice about venturing out into all sorts of places in the City, but I freak out completely when I'm turned around a bit in a 196 acre park and/or when little things in my life don't go as planned. I just like concrete and maps, I guess.

Little Lad's Basket

Speaking of perverts, there's a fascinating little restaurant in the basement of a huge office building just off Wall Street. It's run by Seventh Day Adventists and is vegan. Since the place has no meat or dairy, it attracts a people-watching worthy mix of Jews who keep kosher, Muslims, Hindus, hippies, and weirdos like me. The buffet is a mere $3.99 for all the food you can fit into a Styrofoam plate and bowl. Baked goods, granola, and amazing popcorn (made with "herbs" that are addictive) are also sold for your home eating pleasure.

The restaurant is called Little Lad's Basket, which my friend Sara (not Farf-Sara, but another Jewess pal of mine) decided made it sound like a place that former Rep. Mark Foley* would enjoy visiting. Many moons have passed since I last ate there, but I decided to chow down before I went onto the American Numismatic Museum and tour the future home of the new-and-improved Museum of American Financial History. Although I have no idea exactly what I ate, it prepared me will to go look at money and homages to capitalism.

We** should go there sometime. It'll be fun.

*Remember him? He was the homophobic Republican who "championed" children who was caught hitting on a teenage page.
**This means any CUSS reader/vegan who lives in NYC (ahem, Des) or will be visiting.

The Summer's Over

Technically, summer doesn't end for a few more weeks, but I always think of Labor Day as the social end of summer. Darkness falls sooner, people re-gear up for work, and school gets underway. As usual, I look back and wonder where the hell the summer went.

Now that it's fall, I'm officially freaking out about finishing the book. It is due Nov. 1. I know that it will be done and fine and there's no need to worry. Fall makes everything seem so much more serious, though.

In the meantime, I enjoyed my first weekend of autumn. Friday night, Husband and I watched the Mets roar back from their pathetic five game losing streak. Saturday, we took a semi-private Pilates lesson and found it invigorating. Then we watched the Mets game until I left to join Steph at a scavenger hunt at the Met. Sunday, I ran four miles on the treadmill then a bunch of fine friends came over and watched two Muppets classics - The Muppet Movie and the greatest dramedy of all time, The Great Muppet Caper - and ate ice cream. (I stole the idea for Muppet Sundae from Count Mockula. Brilliant.) Today, Husband and I drove Rebecca up to school in Westchester and then went to the gym and now will watch the Mets game.

Other than my front lower tooth breaking (again!), I can't complain at all. Happy Labor Day.

Attack of the Penis Head

Pride and dignity should never stand in the way of a good joke, so I will fulfill Alex's request for photographic evidence of my penis head haircut:



To be fair, this actually looks better than it did on Thursday and Friday. Yesterday it was so bad that I kept my little fisherman's cap on all day, which then made it worse by giving me penis head hat head. The problem is a rounded top with bangs and a too long back resembles a circumcised frenulum with shaft. I fear getting arrested for indecent exposure. The good news is that I discovered that if I pull the sides of the top back a little with clippies it reduces the penis head a bit, so I almost look normal. I'll still have Des trim it a bit tomorrow, though.

At any rate, looks clearly dictate behavior, as I once again acted like a massive dickhead yesterday. After writing about how important it is to call ahead when trekking to small, weird museums because websites are not frequently updated, I neglected to do so again. The Big O and I took an hour long subway and bus journey only to be met with a closed door because the director of the Poppenhusen Institute happened to take the day off for a long weekend. The caretaker took pity on us, though, and gave us a quick look around.

I hope when I no longer look like a penis, I'll stop acting like one.

Advice I Should Take

Why don't I listen to myself? In the past two days, I told myself I would or would not do certain things, and then I went ahead and did the exact opposite. Not that either action had serious consequences, but consider:

1. I ordered an amazing chocolate covered orange peel flavored milkshake from Ronnybrook Dairy Bar around 5 pm yesterday. (Does it make a difference that it was made with skim milk? Nah, I didn't think so.) Then I bought some luscious brownies from Fat Witch Bakery to bring to a going away party I was attending. As I sucked the milkshake down, my taste buds sang and my stomach rumbled. "Hmmm... maybe I should skip the caramel brownie," I thought. Hours and 1.25 brownies later, I am erupting with gas like Mt. Etna. I'm sure the hamburger I ate before the brownies didn't help either.

2. In the introduction to my upcoming book about eclectic New York City, I am very clear that people should always, always, always call ahead to make sure that a museum or other desired destination is open. Plus be sure to bring the phone number with you, just in case. Even if the website of, for example, the Kurdish Library & Museum claims it is open on Tuesday through Friday and Sunday from 1-5, they might randomly decide to close for a few weeks for Labor Day. It is not fun to find this out after you call your husband at work and have him look the museum up so that you get their number and call them while you stand in front of the locked door, especially if it is sunny and a zillion degrees and you once again forgot to put on sunscreen.

I need to listen to myself more often.

Bliss in a Cup

On my way to a going away party in the West Village, I stopped off at the Chapel of Sacred Mirrors. Yeah, it is every bit as loony as it sounds. Plus they have special full moon festivals every month. God, I love working on this book. I wind up in the most bizarre places.

Although the chapel is billed as a place for sacred contemplation and spiritual renewal, I found its cheesy new agey-ness hilarious. I did find Nirvana, though, near by at the Chelsea Market. This is a huge warehouse of the kitchens of gourmet food purveyors. Somehow I have never managed to make it over there before this afternoon. I wandered around the cavernous hallway in awe. Then I found Ronnybrook Dairy Bar. I had recently read that this place has milkshakes to die for. That is an understatement.

The chocolate orange peel milkshake (and yes, I felt like an asshole asking for it with skim milk) cost $5.15. But if I were run over by a garbage truck as I were sucking that thing down, I would die a happy woman. Unbelievable.

Lock Me Up

My journey to The Living Art Museum at Creedmoor Psychiatric Center was delightful. Housed in a full building on the Creedmoor campus and surrounded by an organic garden, the museum is vibrant, full of interesting paintings, drawings, and sculptures, and busy with artists at all times. A patient named John showed me around, and while some of the art was disturbing (smocks with paper vaginas pinned to them, anyone?), I felt like I could see the same stuff at the Museum of Modern Art or a SoHo gallery. The porn collages cracked me up. On the whole, though, most of the art was spectacular, and the doctor in charge of the program seemed delightful and caring.

All of this is very good because I came back home to a pile of child care project bullshit that is going to drive me into Creedmoor residency. (Every time I think I am free, there's something else that needs to be done in order to satisfactorily complete the project. The tentacles of responsibity are wrapped around me.) I am very pleased to know that I will have such nice options for art therapy. You can all visit me there. They love visitors!

Whew! I'm Safe Now

Not that I wasn't safe earlier today, but today's wanderings for my book led me to a friendly botanica (as opposed to the very scary one I went to in Queens a few weeks ago where a chicken foot dangling from a string of beads from the ceiling hit me in the head and I gladly paid at least five times the price of a good luck candle just so they wouldn't curse me) in the Bronx. Not only were prices not based on race, they were posted clearly for all to see. Imagine my delight when I discovered that the pink and white can of "GO AWAY EVIL" (aka "Aroma Frescante KITAMAL") air freshener was only $2.39! Not only that, but I got 30% more for free! There are definitely times after Husband or I use the bathroom that it smells like something from the depths of hell is hanging around, so this will be very handy.

Prior to my important find (supposedly this botanica is the largest in NYC), I took a subway and then a bus and then walked for 10 minutes across the SUNY Maritime College campus to reach the Maritime Industry Museum. Inside Fort Schuyler, this place is crammed to the hull with crazy shit that you can play with and also ogle. As I was poking around and taking notes, the director of the museum walked by.

"Are you writing a story about us?" he asked and adjusted his red bow tie.

I explained about the book, and he invited me into his office. As he gave me info about the museum, he asked me if I had read Maritime Museums of North America Including Canada.

"Um, no," I said. I guess I didn't do a good job explaining what my book is about.

"Well, we have a few copies lying around here," he said as he scanned a bookshelf. "Here!" He stretched his 6 foot plus frame a bit and plucked a book from the shelf. "You can have this."

"Thanks," I said as I embraced the 468 page (not including three introductions) tome. Suddenly, I had renewed hope that my desired follow up book on medical history museums of the United States (and the world!) could actually get published. Ah, to dream.

Incidentally, today is my parents' 35th wedding anniversary. Happy anniversary! I love you kooks!

It's a Jungle Out There

Thursday, Des and I set out to see the bull elephant sculpture with the huge dick in the United Nations sculpture garden. (Nothing promotes international understand and peace like bronze elephant cock.) Unfortunately, the sculpture garden is closed for renovations. This may explain why I could never find more information on its hours when I searched the UN website and then called repeatedly. (The calls sent me through a maze of despair in why I pushed many buttons, but never actually spoke to a human.)

Fortunately, the elephant is situated near the street. Ironically, it is impossible to see the elephant's genitals because it is literally surrounded by a lush, overgrown bush. At least that makes me laugh.

Now that the weather has returned to August, it was very steamy and hot as Des and I pounded the pavement of the concrete jungle known as Manhattan yesterday, seeking adventure for my book on things to see and do that are off the beaten (subway) track. We were lead to Theodore Roosevelt's birthplace, which is awesome. Many of TR's safari victims, namely a lion, an elephant foot (not penis), and rhino's foot, are displayed. The tour guide, a very knowledgeable volunteer former history professor named Russell, explained that while TR indeed was an amazing conservationist, the times were certainly different.

"He took a disturbing amount of pleasure in shooting things," Russell acknowledged.

Still, Des and I agreed that TR is pretty much our favorite US president. The times were very different in some ways, and shockingly similar in others. TR stood up for the rights of labor over corporations, health care for all, public parks so that everyone could enjoy the outdoors, and the sense that "with great wealth comes great responsibility," the motto of his Quaker grandmother. (I am glad that her words left a great impression on him than those of his own mother, who grew up on a plantation in Virginia and supported the Confederacy during the Civil War while his dad went off to the front to provide logistical support to Union troops.)

Before I left my apartment, I read a nauseating article in Rolling Stone about the profiteering that is going on in Iraq by corporations allied with Republicans. Not only are they scamming billions from taxpayers and the administration could not care less, but they are directly responsible for the death and mutilation of hundreds of Americans - both troops and civilians - in their fraudulent work. Grover Nordquist was quoted (and maybe this was in a New York Times op-ed, not the magazine article - I read them both at the same time) as saying that they are working hard to get the US back to where we were before that "socialist" Theodore Roosevelt ruined everything. Yet if only our current leaders followed the civilized example of Theodore Roosevelt and served the people instead of indulging their savage blood-lust for money, we'd be a lot better off. It's sad when I look back fondly at the turn of the century as more enlightened.

Elephant Ball-Sized Oddity!

Many monikers and labels have been thrown at me ("baby killer" is my #1 special favorite, with "stupid cunt" a very close second), but no one ever accused me of being an animal rights activist. I enjoy eating dead animals (even baby ones), wear leather, and feel my blood boil with the urge to kill people who bring their dogs into food markets, drug stores, or boutiques. I almost always prioritize the welfare of children over animals.

I say "almost always" because if a person is being mean to an animal, the rules of the game change immediately. Yesterday, Des and I were at a completely ludicrous home-based barge museum. The captain, a former cruise ship juggler whose partner is also a juggler he met while working the ships and their daughters are trapeze artists who all perform on the barge they live on, pulled out several enormous binders ("My press clips," he explained) that also included personal photo albums. (One of those pictures involved him wearing no clothes while repairing something. I'm not sure what.)

While we (and believe it or not, there were other people at the museum: a guy from a Norwegian historical society researching the stories of Norwegian families that performed and lived on riverboat barges, a Columbia journalism student who rocked and is writing her first school assignment on the Red Hook nabe of Brooklyn, and a woman with a kid) were all staring at photos of this guy and his life in juggling, the woman's kid was playing with the house rabbit who resided on the boat. But "playing" means tormenting. The woman paid no mind as her kid repeatedly hit the bunny (Dewey, a gray and white lop) in the face with the cage door as he tried to come out of his cage after the kid chased him in.

A familiar bubbling sensation overtook my blood supply. I stormed away from the photo show taking place on the kitchen table and approached the brat.

"Excuse me," I said firmly but pleasantly. "Please leave the bunny alone."

Kid stared at me and said nothing, but also did not remove her hand from the cage door. Dewey poked his head out and was rewarded with a door to the nose.

"I said, do not close that cage door on the rabbit." Blank stare from kid. Voice rising, I asked, "How would you like it if someone kept closing a door on you?" More curious looks. Cage door closes on rabbit face. Repeat comment in louder voice. Kid backs away slightly, which is good because I was thisclose to grabbing her hand and slamming it in the cage door. (This, people, is why I am not having kids.)

Long story short, I went back to the table and the mother continued to ignore her animal - I mean, daughter - resulting in the kid spilling the container of rabbit food all over the floor. At this point, Des and I left and went for key lime pie, which Des discovered unfortunately contained gelatin, thus rendering it inedible because she is a vegetarian. I scarfed it down because nothing tastes better than ground up horse bones after an afternoon's work of defending a helpless animal.

Still Not Sunny

As far as I can tell from my small dining room window that looks into a courtyard and has a small slice of sky available for analyzing, it is not sunny today. (My dining room window has almost the only vantage point for weather analytics, as my street-facing bedroom and living room windows are shrouded under scaffolding that's been up for at least a year already, and my kitchen window looks mostly into the building across the courtyard. It's a good thing that my childhood was spent living in darkness - Husband freaks out at the lack of good natural and artificial lighting whenever we visit my parents - preparing me for City life.) I wanted it to be sunny today so that I could really enjoy my visit to the UN Sculpture Garden, where a bull elephant statue with a 2 foot long penis resides.

Also not improving my mood was the research I just did for an article about single women, subprime lending, and mortgage foreclosures that I posted on BlogHer. It should be obvious that women are going to get especially fucked up the ass by the mortgage default crisis, but I haven't seen much about it. However, there is ample evidence that single women, along with non-white and low income people, were railroaded into subprime loans. Yeah, you can buy your dream in America, but it's temporary and will cost you everything in the long run. Bah.

I need to eat ice cream and/or cookies today.

Laxatives, Chicken Feet, and Bloody Jesus: A Day in the Life

Wednesday and Thursday were chock full of exciting site visits for my upcoming book on things to do that are off the beaten path in New York City.

On Wednesday, I bought an awesome magnet depicting Louis Armstrong sitting on a toilet shilling for Swiss Krissly laxatives. (Satchmo-Slogan: Leave It All Behind Ya) at the Louis Armstrong House. As I learned on the tour, Armstrong took Swiss Krissly laxatives every day. Yes, every day. He also smoked a lot of pot and once fooled Richard Nixon into carrying his trump case, stuffed with the wacky weed and his instrument, through airport security in France. The whole house tour and strange rituals sort of reminded me of that other Southern musical sensation who died 30 years ago yesterday. (Sorry, Ma, but Graceland seems even tackier compared with Armstrong's house, even though it has some over-the-top elements as well.)

At the end of the day, I stopped by El Indio Amazonico botanica that someone told me would be perfect for the book. Unfortunately, the website is no longer up, but this place scared the fucking shit out of me. (No need for Swiss Krissly here.) The window had a picture depicting a close up of Jesus's face and the cross he is nailed to behind his head. As the picture rotated, his eyes flipped open and shut, thanks to the high tech working of whatever material it is that causes images to shift when the angle changes. (Not and saina hologram, but I can't think of the term.) There were oodles of Jesus statues with blood gushing from their sad eyes to welcome me when I stepped inside. What I didn't notice, however, was the painted chicken foot attached to a string of beads dangling from the ceiling. It would up slightly tangled in my hair. Chicken feet weren't the only talismans available, though. Horseshoes with shit glued and/or nailed on them were everywhere. Photos show El Indio Amazonico healing people, and the pile of abandoned crutches in the front corner of the shop seemed to testify to his success. This would have cracked me up had the statue of some saint with blood gushing from numerous gaping wounds stared accusingly at me. I bought a candle that would bring good luck (it has pennies glued to the outside and stuck within the wax, and I am sure that they charged the gringa at least double for it) and got the fuck out of there.

Thursday afternoon's odd adventure is told so well by Super Des that you should just read it there. I am so glad she joined me for the fun. Damn, I love this kind of shit.