Waiting to Get There. Usually on the A/C/E in Chelsea, New York City.

 Wow I have had this blog a loooong time. Here's a recap of what I have been doing at the beginning of November for the past 15 years: November Blog post in 2008 :  finding shit on the street   over on 28th by the 1 train where my great grandpa had a heart attack and died. May that add cheer to your day. November Blog post in 2009 : a halloween party where everyone dressed up in costumes and it was really fun.  November Blog in 2010: going to a Lower East Side absinthe bar on Halloween that has long since closed November Blog in 2011: Swedish Club party , right after the most gigantic 11|11|11 corduroy club party that apparently I never actually wrote about, which is sad. November Blog in 2012: Pop telling stories about growing up in the Bronx November Blog in 2013: The pre-pandemic situation when I had lots of back to back meetings in Mid-Town and needed to find places to work for short stretches in between them. November Blog in 2014 : Terribly embarrassing myself at a con

  A stock photo of a family party with a similar vibe to the one I'm gonna tell you a little story about The Precursor to Why I got invited to the family Party A few years ago when my grandma was alive, I went to visit her at her house in Pennsylvania where she had ultimately wound up. Grammy grew up in the Bronx, got married there and lived in the 'hood until my dad was a teenager .  Ton of cousins and pretty much everyone else who immigrated from the "old country" lived in the Bronx at that time. As my grandma used to say, they came in on boats to Ellis Island by the truckload.   As we sat at her kitchen table, Grammy mused, "If only I could find out what happened to my cousins? If only someone (she stares at me meaningfully) knew how to work the internets?" So subtle. I took to the internets and like T-minus five minutes later, I tracked down one of the cousins. I tell my grandma she is now living on the Upper West Side. Grammy replies with her eyebrows r

The conference was at capacity is a key point. I was at a conference sitting near the back watching a continuous string of dustups in the sixth row.  The auditorium was packed and there were almost no more chairs remaining. In the aforementioned sixth row, an older man, like late 70's probably, had sat himself one-in from the aisle. The seat next to him, right on the aisle, was empty. But he had jammed his rolley-bag (because he took a rolley bag to a conference) in front of the chair, thus blocking the entire row and also making it impossible to sit in the empty seat next to him. Nonetheless, multiple people attempted to sit in the empty seat I guess not seeing the rolley bag or thinking they could straddle it or something. The guy growled at them like a feral cat. They all backed off with their hands slightly raised.  Fast forward thirty minutes and a woman has a medical emergency almost right next to where I was observing the goings on from near the back of the room. It was kind

In NYC, the tables are very very close together! On Thursday, we went out to dinner and discovered (after walking the whole way up there) that Joy Love Club is closed (bummer). So we went over to the Thai place on 19th. We were seated at a two-top about two inches from the tables next to us.  May the eavesdropping commence. To our left were a couple, a young man and woman who may(?) have been on a date. As we got settled in our seats, the man was midway through an explanation of his trials and travails with his GI tract. The woman broke in about some hospital visit of her own. Then the guy starts in about his dry eye problem. Turns out he sleeps with his eyes partially open! After about twenty minutes of "let's compare our medical problems", the woman muses, "I wonder if our parents had these same problems, but they just kind of powered through them?"  I guess the question was rhetorical because there was no forthcoming answer. I can say this confidently because

Admittedly I'm sandbagging with these NaBloPoMo blog posts. It's due to my perfectionist compulsion to maximize my chances of "one post a day for a whole month" success and the reality of my incredibly overwhelmed life right about now.  I saw this Andrew Lloyd Webber revival on Broadway a month ago and I'm being clear about that so no one thinks I'm out of the loop re: what everybody is talking about in Chelsea. "The gays love Sunset Boulevard" and that is a direct quote.  I went to the show with my middle-aged ladies book club. Ok fine, in the moment, my cool factor was minimal at best but I'm not about to bring that up in this blog post.  So, I swanned into the performance with my posse and we took our seats that were. Not great. We were way up in a balcony.  Plopped in the seat to my left was a 20-something guy and seated in the row in front of him was his.. friend? boyfriend? Unclear and irrelevant. I guess they couldn't get seats next to

  I've created a brand new ancient tradition - the bonsai jade plant Look, when Tom's Mom's partner's brother passed away probably 20 years ago, I got his large and luscious jade plant. I did not make off with it during the funeral luncheon at the house, in case you were wondering. I was properly gifted the plant when no one else wanted it. Anyway, with these jade plants, it's a cycle of life scenario. The big bits die but of course you can pick off the tops and replant them and then they grow into new little plants. Lots of new little plants. The thing is, throwing out a perfectly alive new little plant, in this house, is as reprehensible as like, idk, swimming in jeans. Even if you have 400 new little plants. For the record, not all new little jade plants are showpieces. Some of them are downright unattractive because they get tall and floppy.  Enter my amazing new hobby! the bonsai jade!  If I twist all these plants all around each other they will (crossing finge