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The Hipster

August 13th, 2011 by Suzanne | 1 Comment | Filed in Asshole idiots, Damn, fun trips, hilarity, I love New York, Off the (Beaten) Subway Track, oh happy day, random, What is wrong with people?

For the last few years, I’ve meant to head out to Ft. Tilden, a former military base turned park in the Far Rockaways section of Queens.  A friend at work highly recommended it.  I finally semi-made it there today with Husband and some friends. 

Since my preferred method of travel, subway and/or bus, would have taken us about 2 hours, we decided to drive.  The park website had car directions, but when we arrived, we learned there was no parking without a permit in the summer.  Then, after ditching Augustus Gloop (our car) at the parking lot for neighboring Jacob Riis and walking along the concrete boardwalk back to Ft. Tilden park, we learned you cannot have a picnic there without a permit halfway through our picnic.  (The ranger let us finish, though.)

As came back from the trash after cleaning up, I passed by a woman sitting under a tree to my right.

“Hey hipster!  Go to the beach,” she hissed.

I looked behind me to see who she was talking to.  There was no one there.  I looked to my left.  Also no one there.  I looked back at her.  She had a straw hat pulled over her face so I could not see who she was looking at.

“Hey hipster!” She hissed again.  “Go to the beach!”

I realized that she was directing her comment to me.  This made me want to laugh, as I am about as close to a hipster as Snooki to a Greek scholar.  I wondered if she thought of all white people as hipsters, although I thought she was white, too.  She hissed at me a third time.  Then I felt awkward and weirded out.

The day was not a total bust, though.  After having our picnic rushed, not being able to use the hiking trail with the cool wood stairs, and being called a hipster, we headed over to the nearby Jamaica Bay Wildlife Refuge.  It was gorgeous and not even the osprey circling the air seemed to mind our presence.  Or maybe birds of prey like fake hipsters.

Know Your Audience

June 29th, 2011 by Suzanne | 4 Comments | Filed in Asshole idiots, evil, hilarity, I am a bad person sometimes, other rants, random

Last year, not long before graduation, I went to a supplemental seminar at school. The topic was how to give good public readings, which for reasons beyond me, I always first thought of as how to give good head. That would have probably been a more interesting class.

The instructor began by telling us that we needed to know our audience. “A is for audience” he said, and I rolled my eyes. “U is for understanding,” he continued. “Who is in the audience? You should understand what they expect.” Clearly, he did not know his audience because as he went down the list (“D is for…”), we all tuned out and pondered what a class about giving good head would have been like.

However, the lesson of knowing one’s audience is actually important. I was struck recently by two ludicrous pieces of junk mail that I received. The first, and most pernicious, was from a crazy-town anti-choice group called Live Action. It was some nutso rant against Planned Parenthood and their abortion mills and blah blah blah. They sent me their ravings because they wanted me to write about them, their “victories” for the dead babies or whatever the fuck they think they are doing rather than harming the world. Their leader, Lila Rose, is a cuntface moron with her fake “sting operations” and heavily edited “undercover exposes.”

In a way, they did know their audience: here I am writing about them. I am pretty sure they did not intend for me to write something that calls their leader a cuntface moron, so in that sense, they probably should not have sent me anything demonstrating that she is, in fact, a cuntface moron. If there is anyone I hate in this universe, it is cuntface morons and their minions.

The sillier junk mail arrived via the postal service. It was an ad from Bank of America for a new Cubs credit card. “We know you are one of the Cubs’ biggest fans,” it said, or something like that. (I threw it out, so I’m paraphrasing here.) My first thought is that if I am one of the Cubs biggest fans, than the Cubs must have some extremely pathetic people rooting them on. Now, in 1984, I was a huge Cubs fan, and I followed them closely through the 1980s. But that was a long time ago, and I probably should not have had a credit card when I was eight. I seriously wonder what database the brains at B of A were using for that campaign.

Anyway, know your audience. I am pretty sure that the readers of CUSS will not mind me calling Lila Rose a cuntface moron or mocking B of A. If you do, tough shit – you are probably the wrong audience.

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Sunday Afternoon Analysis

June 19th, 2011 by Suzanne | 4 Comments | Filed in hilarity, random

Me: Sigh.
Husband: What?
Me: I’m old.
Husband: What? I thought you said, “Hi mold.”
Me: Well, yeah. There’s mold in the shower, but that’s another story. That’s not what I said.
Husband: Let’s not talk about that. What did you say?
Me: I said I’m old.
Husband: Why do you say that?
Me: Because I get to make decisions about people in my family.
Husband: That’s because you have experience and are mature.
Me: Well, fuck that shit.
Husband: OK, sometimes you are mature…

What Just Happened?

June 12th, 2011 by Suzanne | 3 Comments | Filed in I love New York, random, What is wrong with people?

Earlier this afternoon, Dr. H, Dr. P, and I were walking down Columbus Avenue. We just passed Lincoln Center and I was telling the good doctors about how my building needs its boiler replaced.

“That sounds expensive,” Dr. P said.

“Yeah, it is not going to be pretty,” I replied.

Dr. H had wandered off to toward the curb, where a small black Honda SUV was pulled to the side. The passenger window was rolled down. Dr. P and I stopped walking.

“What’s she doing?” Dr. P asked.

“Giving directions?” I guessed.

A few seconds later, Dr. H rejoined us. She was frowning slightly. “That was weird,” she said. “I heard a woman’s voice saying, ‘Excuse me, excuse me,’ so I went over the the car, thinking that she needed directions. But when I approached the window, she asked me if we were New Yorkers.”

“What?” Dr. P and I said.

“Yeah, she asked if we were New Yorkers. I said, ‘Yes, we are New Yorkers. Are you lost? Can I help you find something?’ Then she said no, giggled, and pulled away.”

Paula and I concurred that was very weird. “Was someone in the car with her?” I asked.

“No, she was a small Asian woman who was alone.”

We shook our heads and continued to walk. You never really know what will happen in New York.

Live Nude Music

June 4th, 2011 by Suzanne | No Comments | Filed in oh happy day, random

In general, I am not a fan of live music, even with musicians that I love. When I listen to music, I like to hear the songs the exact way I know them. I also am not terribly patient with songs I don’t already love. The point of shows is to let musicians riff on their hits and play some of their less popular catalog.

Given the shows tend to be expensive and that I don’t enjoy them as much as the price of the ticket, I don’t go to hear music often. The exception to this is The Loser’s Lounge. This cover band powerhouse is so much fun that I go almost every single time they have a show, whether I know a lot about the musician they are covering or not. The set up is lots of musical instruments and singers and then a different lead singer for each tune. They banter. They wear cheestastic costumes. I boogie down.

Last night they performed a tribute to Queen at the Bowery Ballroom. I have already been to two of their Queen tributes, the previous one about two months ago at a much more restricted setting (Joe’s Pub, set up like a cabaret so only chair dancing), and I was psyched. Husband, who also loves these shows, was in London for work, so it was just me and friend.

It was just awesome. We danced and laughed and danced. We marveled at the singer who was covered in glitter and wore a pair of chaps and a leopard print thong pouch. (I kind of love him.) We were disturbed by the singer in the unitard who used a lot of mime gestures and looked a little dead somehow. We tried not to look at the man standing in front of us, who donned ill-fitting acid-washed skinny jeans (which he cuffed), suede loafers with no socks, and a shirt that clung to his midsection in a way that enhanced his slight bulge.

During “Bohemian Rhapsody,” I jumped up and down at the fast part along with the rest of the crowd. As I looked around me and observed several hundred people experiencing the pure joy of fun that surged through me, I realized the point of live music. It was one of the greatest feelings in the world.

New Is Rarely Improved

May 30th, 2011 by Suzanne | No Comments | Filed in Damn, random, those were the days

Some time in 2006, Husband went to an investor conference and returned home with an iPod Shuffle. He already had a regular iPod, so he asked me if I wanted it. At the time, I mainly watched TV while I worked out at the gym, but it was free, so I took it.

Immediately I did what any self-respecting 30 year old woman would do: I decorated the slim stick with PowerPuff Girl stickers. My favorite, Buttercup, went on the front, covering the private equity firm’s name. Two little stickers (an amoebic villain and Bubbles) were stragecally placed over the Apple logos. I loaded lots of Madonna, The Beatles, Led Zepplin, and Dido onto it, then added random pop crap from the 80s, 90s, and early 2000s. It was very exciting to have such a high tech music machine.

About a month ago, I noticed that the machine was not charging fully when I slipped it into the USB port. It had not synced properly for years, so I had not updated the music in ages, but that didn’t bother me. The lack of charge was a bigger problem. When I thought it was charged and went to run, it sometimes turned out to not be charged, and I had to run without music.

Generally, that was not too awful, but as the date of my half marathon rapidly approaches (THIS SUNDAY!), I realized that running 13 miles while listening to the sound of my panting was not a very enticing prospect. So, although I hated to replace my machine, I went to the Apple store this afternoon. I was pleased to see that the iPod shuffles have dropped $100 since they first debuted. I liked that it would clip on to my shirt or pants so I need not waste precious limited pocket space (when stupid manufacturer’s even bother putting in pockets). I liked that it was a shiny blue. It even holds four times more songs than my old one.

What I do not like is that I cannot figure out how to get it to sync with my computer so that the music plays alphabetically by artist rather than song. Also that I seem to be unable to avoid hitting buttons when adjusting the clip. I hate that the USB port is a little thing I have to plug in and then it hangs off the computer like a limp dick, and I’ll be screwed if I lose the stupid connector. The small size also offers less surface area for PowerPuff Girl stickers. (I did cut one down a bit, though, so at least I have a little personal touch on it.)

As much as I like to think that I am flexible and can adapt to change, the truth is that I’m a creature of habit. Even if my old habit is not as nifty or convenient as the shiny next version, I will prefer my semi-functional comfort to whatever is new. (I’m barely over surrendering my StarTAC cell phone in 2006, although I am not going to lie – I really love getting emails and internet service on my phone. I just wish it made better calls. Sigh.)

Anyway, so that’s the excitement here. Now that Memorial Day is over, I’m just looking forward to the half marathon, then having two days off work* for Shavuout so that I can go to the library and do some research on Warsaw. Maybe I’ll even be able to listen to music while I do these things.

*FYI: I am trying to keep things mild here at CUSS now that I have this new job.

The Small Things

May 27th, 2011 by Suzanne | 2 Comments | Filed in I love New York, random, warm fuzzy

An email was sent out at work at 1 pm announcing that the office would close at 3 pm in honor of Memorial Day weekend. “Hot diggity!” I thought to myself. “Hopefully my 2:30 will wrap up quickly and I shall be sailing promptly.”

At 4:30, I packed my shit up as fast as I could before someone asked me to do anything else and ran the fuck out. Since my new office is on Broadway, I’ve been walking home through the evil space known as Times Square. There was no way I would do that during a holiday weekend unless I wanted to get into a fistfight with someone, so I headed over toward 9th Ave. At my previous job, I used to walk home up 9th Avenue, and I always enjoyed it. There are much more interesting stores to peruse as I walk than the crap along the main tourist drag of Broadway in midtown.

When I arrived at the corner of 38th and 9th, I realized that my favorite deli was a block or two in other direction. It is my favorite deli because they have an excellent selection of calorie free Coke products and at a price that can’t be beat – only $1.50 for a 20 oz. bottle! I debated walking out of my way, but it was pretty hot and I figured that I should just stop elsewhere. Lots of places sell Diet Coke with Lime.

Hence a block later when I noticed a filthy looking bodega, I stopped in. I found my beverage of choice (which I should not drink anyway because of acid reflux, but I was hot and aggravated and did not care) and went to pay. It was $1.65, which is still a good deal. I pulled out my wallet.

As I counted out change, a strapping guy popped into the store and grabbed a single pack of PopTarts. He held it up and the counter guy said, “A dollar fifty.” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the young man’s face fall. “OK,” I’ll get something else,” he said and put it back. I noticed he had a dollar bill in his hand. I could not help but think of how many times all I wanted was a motherfucking pack of PopTarts or a granola bar or a candy bar or something and I was just a little short. I looked at my wallet.

“Hey,” I said. “I’ll take care of it.”

He turned to me in surprise. I smiled. “It’s on me.” I meant to pay for the whole thing, but he put his dollar bill down, thanked me, and took off.

I felt a lot better about the world.

Fit and Fat

May 24th, 2011 by Suzanne | 4 Comments | Filed in mortification, random

One of the many things that continues to mystify me about American society – and maybe it is not only American society, but Western society in general – is the way we equate “thin” with “fit” and “healthy.” I’ve seen several studies that showed that people who fall into the BMI range currently classified as “overweight” live longer and are healthier than those who fall into the “healthy” range. This, of course, makes me think that what we define as healthy is not really healthy, but rather some sort of beauty aesthetic that has pervaded the medical establishment and convinced us that “thin” is “healthy.”

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately because I’ve been running a lot to train for a half marathon on June 5. At the start of my training, or maybe even a little before, I successfully used Phase I of the South Beach Diet to drop a few pounds. However, during that phase it took me almost 77 minutes to run seven miles, and I thought I might burst my lungs and that my thigh muscles would rip themselves from my femurs. Thin, but not in great shape.

As I ran more, I discovered that I was getting fatter. Some people suggested that I was gaining weight because I added muscle, although I am sure that I have. Unfortunately, as proven by my jeans not wanting to button around my increasingly rotund belly and wider hips, I am actually getting flabbier. I had a very ugly incident this morning with a shirt that used to fit fine and now is most unattractive as I bulge out of the side slits. I know that the weight is from the ravenous appetite that I developed to feed to running. I try to eat healthy, but it is really hard for me because I am almost always hungry, which inevitably leads to binging on, say, cheesecake after dinner last night. (It would have been a very “Golden Girls” moment if I had three lady friends sharing it with me, but alas I just stuffed it in my face while on the phone.)

Yet I am also far fitter. When I ran 12 miles last Saturday, my average mile was 9 minutes, 40 seconds. I didn’t get tired until the 10.5 mile. Part of the reason I could run so well was because I fueled the run with carbs beforehand, had energy supplements during it, and ate a protein bar afterward. So although I burned 1200 calories, I consumed 600 just to accomplish it. Then I binge ate because I was hungry an went to a 12 hour birthday extravaganza that involved enormous quantities of candy (Take 5 is possibly my new favorite candy bar; sorry Mars…) and on my way there I passed a Polish bakery, so of course I had to stop in and buy a paczki (donut, pronounced panchki) or four, but I am getting off the point a little bit.

The point is that I am definitely fatter. I am also definitely fitter. I am insanely proud of how far I’ve come with this running thing, especially given my asthmatic childhood which involved at least one ER visit each spring and fall when I did strenuous things like, say, sleep. I just wish that my fitness was not buried under so much flab.

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When I Grow Up

May 19th, 2011 by Suzanne | No Comments | Filed in hilarity, random, those were the days, writing

“There are about a million things I want to be when I grow up,” I wrote in a semi-autobiographical story when I was in fourth or fifth grade. “First of all, I want to be an author, second an advertiser, and third a baseball umpire.”

By the time I mastered grammar and punctuation, I moved on to other professional aspirations. At the age of twelve, I resolved to become a district attorney in order to improve safety in poor neighborhoods. In my bat mitzvah speech, I asked God for a scholarship to nearby Northwestern University so that I could later attend a good law school.

Of course, I wound up going to NYU as an undergrad, then dropping out of Fordham Law School on my third day. Instead, I worked for a year at a government agency. I turned down a 3/4 tuition scholarship to policy school at NYU because I wanted to go to school full-time and instead went to policy school at Columbia while working part-time at a community development financial institution. (“I don’t need math,” I had told my math teacher my junior year of high school, “I’m going to be a lawyer!”) I turned down the opportunity to work at the Ford Foundation in a program associate program and continued to work at that organization after school, then at another CDFI, building an expertise in child care facilities development in affordable housing projects. Just like I always planned!

Then I burned out and started writing. I had some personal essays and policy articles printed in local papers. Off the Beaten (Subway) Track came out in August 2008. I entered a creative writing MFA program a month later. I went back to the nonprofit world, working for the first time at Jewish organizations, first as a grant writer, then as a program officer.

I guess achieving one of my three original goals isn’t bad. Who knows what will happen when I grow up?

I Did It!

May 14th, 2011 by Suzanne | 5 Comments | Filed in random, warm fuzzy

My uber clever two year old nephew Marcus like to clap his hands and exclaim, “I did it!” whenever he accomplishes something, like building a tower with blocks. It is adorable. I had my own “I did it!” moment today, although it was not nearly as adorable.

A few months ago, my friend and I agreed to run a half marathon set on June 5. To prepare, I’ve been training since late February. Every week I do three shorter runs (generally 2 miles, 3-4 miles, 2 miles) and one run that grows by a mile every week. The schedule is set by a trainer at my friend’s YMCA. Every week, I’ve eagerly anticipated the long run, at the same time fearing I could not do it. So far, I’ve been very proud of my ability to keep up.

Today was the ten mile run. I’ve never run double digits before so I was terrified. On the other hand, until a few weeks ago, I’d never run more than 6.5 miles. Not only have I done longer runs, but my speed and recovery time has also increased. I kept that in mind when I work up this morning, although things did not start well.

I began with some runs in the bathroom. Now, if I canceled plans every time I had a digestive mishap, I’d never go anywhere, so I figured I would give it a try even though I had an unfortunate mental image of me shitting my pants around the northwest corner of the park and needing to go another 3 miles like that before I could get home and change. When I arrived at the park, I discovered that there was a 10k race taking place and half of the outer loop (which is shared by pedestrians, bikers, and horse-drawn carriages) was roped off. Plus the racers were going clockwise as opposed to the normal running pattern of counterclockwise. And they didn’t like to stay in the cordoned off area.

I set out, attempting not crash into runners (fortunately, the bikers were not out for some reason). A mile into the run, my GPS watch beeped. The battery was running low. If it died, I’d have no way to track my progress or know exactly when I hit the ten mile mark. I ran forward and hoped for the best.

Somehow, it all worked. I finished my first ten mile run in 96 minutes. The exhilaration was amazing. I could not believe that little asthmatic me could run such a long run. Then, being me, I began worrying about (and being excited for) next week’s run, which is 11 miles. So it goes…

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