Serendipitous Grocery Shopping

A few weeks ago, on my way home from grocery shopping, I bought a random foreign kid.

I wasn't in a hurry - I had the time. I had the money. And of course, I had the guilt.

I am referring to my decision to contribute $25 each month to support the education of a child in a developing part of the world. And, of course, that means that I was accosted by a street canvasser in Union Square.

Lured in by a friendly face, I put my grocery bags down by a storefront and took a break from schlepping. Immediately I knew what game we were playing when the teenager asked me if I knew what it was like to make a difference in a young person's life. Blah, blah blah.

"I'm not comfortable giving my credit card number to someone on the street," I said. "Can you send me something in the mail, or give me a website if this is one of those processes?"

After he said no, I offered a sympathetic word about mass mailing costs. I've never been a canvasser, but I have several friends who have worked for US PIRG and even knocked on doors for the Working Families Party of America. I did call alumni for scholarship contributions while in college and I remember the drill: "We don't like to spend money on mailings when they have such a low rate of return." (Plus, my school sent plenty of mailings anyhow. The phone campaign was separate.)

But instead of walking away, I waited for my teenaged do-gooder to respond to my comment. And that was when I knew I was done. My presence, in effect, sealed the deal. It didn't matter what he said next - there was no gracious way I was leaving that conversation without donating, and donate I did. Credit card number and all.

I looked up the organization at home - it's legitimate. I could have always stopped payment on my card if it wasn't. And I actually feel quite good about the whole thing. For the first time in my life, I am able to add to my savings account. I can still do that - and pay for one child's school supplies in a developing country.

Besides, it's a more effective means of giving back to the world in some small way than helping confused German tourists in Times Square who don't understand subway turnstiles. Everyone morning, while running late for work, I need to remind myself, "THAT IS NOT YOUR JOB, Audrey. I know you think you're great, but right now, you need to get to your office with your spreadsheets that pay the bills. Do not stop, do not pass go, do not collect $200, and do not swipe tourists into the subway with your unlimited Metro Card. Go to work. It is NOT YOUR JOB."

"But, feel free to stop for a croissant on the way."

Interesting Things Afoot

My friend, the Duchess: I lost my glasses in a pillow fight on Wednesday.

Audrey: ...


Duchess: It was a Valentine's Day pillow fight on the Embarcadero [in San Francisco]. Whatever. Someone found them! They posted it on Craigslist!


Audrey: That's good.


Duchess: I'm praying thanks to the Craigslist gods.


Audrey: You should give thanks by giving something away for free on Craigslist. Or performing a service. Like, "Will Cook You Dinner. Free."


Duchess: Oh! That's a really good idea!


No good can come of this.


In related, useless conversation news, I had the loveliest conversation last night with someone about what croissants taste like in Geneva. Note: I have never been to Geneva. Oh, alcohol.

*Some* Subways Advertise...

For those of you who mocked my suggestion that the NYC Subway system should advertise - take a page from Montreal! True, this campaign is for the entire system. It dates back to the 1970s, when the city first rolled out "L'Metro."

On this Valentine's Day, I give you a love letter to public transit, dans la langue d'amour.



My favorite character is the man with the mustache. I'm not sure what he's up to, but certainly something.

Also, pigtails should never, ever come back in style.

There really are no words for this video. I've been watching it all day at work and I'm still at a loss.

I send my thanks to my friend from high school for lighting up my life with this catchy, addictive jingle. He spent several formative years in Montreal and he's no longer *quite* the same.

Dorky Party Crasher

Since I don't really have my own life, I occasionally piggyback on Patel's social calendar. (And he often does the same to me when our schedules flip). He's in grad school, so he has the advantage of knowing oh, 200+ more twenty-somethings than I do. It's particularly fantastic when these social events are apartment parties, as who doesn't like putting their coat down and drinking (and eating!) all for the cost of a $5 bottle of wine?

Sometimes, however, odd things happen. And my haiku will tell you.

Yes, but no.

Loft apartment fete.
Asked for money for the keg.
I'd rather drink cans.

Tell guests to bring beer.
Money is dirty and gauche
Though trash is the same...

Into the Pink

Cute studio home
Loft alcove bed, high ceilings
Pink chairs, rug, bed, drapes.

Pink Pink Pink Pink Pink
Pink Pink Pink Pink Pink Pink Pink
Pink Pink Pink Pink Pink

Cupcakes, cookies, friends.
Four drinks in and I feel fine -
Alcohol-free punch?!

Text Message Trauma

A simple question
"What are you up to tonight?"
Odd response: "Foolcakes."

Winter Warmth

It has been face-freezing cold in New York lately. Not that I'm complaining - it's been bone-dry and I've spent many a winter with ice crystals flying in my face in Massachusetts.

Still, it's been a bit uncomfortable. I say "a bit" because really, I'm not outside that long when I walk from apartment to subway to office and back again.

I currently make futile attempts to wrap my scarf around my neck. It never stays in place and as soon as I turn my neck, I feel wisps of wind tickling my nose.

I suppose I could buy one of those crazy ski masks. Somehow I find them a bit too intense for daily wear. Also, they're a disaster if your nose starts dripping. (Gross but true! Unless it's just my nose that has this problem. It remains unclear.)

All winter, I am forever putting on - and taking off - all sorts of woollen accessories. Hats, scarves, earmuffs, those headband thingies: I own them all. In effect, I have been placing other animals' evolutionary solutions to the cold on my face.

It is during this season, then, that I salute Nature's elegant answer to this problem on one half of our species: the beard.

(It should be noted that I do not find men with beards attractive; in fact it is quite the contrary. If you are a boy and you sport anything furrier than tasteful sideburns, I will probably ask you what that crap is doing stuck to your face.)

And yet, I admire the beard. Mustaches aside, the beard keeps its host warm in the winter. It camouflages minor facial flaws, or perhaps unsightly birthmarks. It can serve as a prop: when a man is deep in thought, he may stroke it (a stroky-beard thought, if you will). And of course, it is art. Dye it, braid it, shave it in patterns - it is a living canvas for self-expression. Or something.

Of all its functions - and I have named but a few - perhaps the most interesting is the beard's use in competition. Both for mates and for sheer manliness, the beard can signal superiority.

There are the obvious competitions - namely the one for pure growth. When I was in college, the boys in one dorm decided to have a Neck-beard Off during winter reading period and exams. No one was to shave his neck hair until finals were over. I understand that shaving daily when going over a week's worth of missed readings in 12 hours is a pain. I'm just not sure what shaving the face alone proved, other than that neck hair can be really, really disgusting.

Ew.

Then there is the playoff beard. Members - or fans - of a sports team, professional or amateur, will refuse to shave to preserve their team's winning streak. I think that this is endearing. And I will continue to smile and nod.

Once again, in closing: Ugliness aside, beards, I salute you!

(Yes, I had to make that joke. I'm sorry.)

Haiku Make-Good

I know. It's Thursday. The feature is called Haiku Haiku Mondays. And I even had material - my very own little shindig on Friday, Saturday night dancing, and two Superbowl parties. What gives?

Fortunately for you, dear readers, Red Wine is on your side. She's been emailing me all week about various Haiku around the internet. Instead of actually crafting new content, I've decided to (lovingly) repost her emails here. Enjoy!

From: Red Wine
To: Audrey
Date: Feb 6, 2007 3:26 PM

surely someone has already alerted you to this, but just in case...

from the gents of gnarls barkley,

http://gnarlsbarkley.com/tour.php

Haiku Contest
Posted on 01.30.07

During the next week, submit your best haiku in the comments section below.

Your theme can be either Solutide or Pineapples. Or, if you can manage it, both.

The winning haiku will be selected by me. I reserve the right to be as arbitrary as I like in my decision-making. Enter as many times as you like. The winner will receive an as-yet undisclosed prize.

From: Audrey
To: Red Wine
Date: Feb. 6, 2007 3:44

OMG. Not at all. Fascinating stuff.

You read the Gnarls Barkley message boards?

From: Red Wine
To: Audrey
Date: Feb 6, 2007 3:53 PM

religiously.

no, best week ever blog posted about it and wrote their own:

'Pineapples' Nightclub
DJ plays "Crazy" Again
I refuse to dance.

[Link]

The next day...

From: Red Wine
To: Audrey, Someone Else
Date: Feb 7, 2007 2:23 PM

i couldn't decide which one of you would enjoy this haiku more...

[Link]

And finally this morning -

From: Red Wine
To: Audrey
Date: Feb 8, 2007 9:54 AM

ok, i swear i don't spend all day scouring the internet for haiku-related things to send to you, but i do think of you when i happen upon them. and this one comes to me via cailin [redacted]'s facebook profile. and i think it's hilarious:

haikus are easy
but sometimes they don't make sense
refrigerator

--my cousin's t shirt

Why Are You Trying to Sell Me a Car?

Like most Americans, I watched the Superbowl this past Sunday. Like at least 30% of Americans, I was more interested in the commercials than I was in the actual broadcast (except for Prince, because he was awesome.) Yes, I am making up statistics again.

I don't have anything particularly noteworthy to say about the ads - certainly not anything that anyone else couldn't say better. I enjoyed the Gamin one with the Ultraman-style combat between the giant map monster and the GPS dude. The Coca-Cola ads were cute. Blah blah blah.

I did happen to notice the large number of car ads. Their appearance is nothing new. For some reason, they piqued my interest this year, though.

I live in Manhattan. I do have a driver's license, but I cannot even imagine entertaining the possibility of owning a car. It would be like renting a second apartment, between the payments, the insurance, and the parking space. I understand that the Superbowl is a single, national broadcast - it's not like they're targeting the car ads to wide, open spaces in Iowa and giving the urban dwellers umbrella ads.

(Aside from that, I know the NYC broadcast goes to Long Island, New Jersey and yes, the Bestchester. And yes, people may own cars in "Staten Island" or "The Bronx," wherever they are. (What's with the [ed.] article anyhow? Damn Dutch.)).

But that got me thinking. Or rather, complaining. I turned to Patel and to our friend Tmi and asked them why in the world Corporate America was trying to get us to buy cars. I am so not buying a car.

Patel had a better suggestion.

"Why doesn't the 4 train advertise? That's my car!"

Wow. So really, why *don't* the different subway lines advertise?

I mean, I might choose the 4 train over the 5 train for my East-side Uptown/Downtown needs if it advertised on TV. Or even the Q, if I was feeling particularly feisty.

Patel, Tmi and I tried to imagine a few advertising angles for some of the trains. Keep in mind that these aren't polished slogans, taglines, commercial premises, or even trains we take. These arguments have less to do with the trains' destinations and more with "transit experience."



Suggest taking the JMZ for more, uh, "human interaction."



Position the 4 train as the classier line versus the 5.

Encourage ridership on the 1 train by invoking nostalgia for the old number 9.

Public service announcement for the 50th Street CE station, warning about its lack of a passage between uptown and downtown tracks.

Remind people how cute those sculptures in the 14th & 8th L train station are - they should take the train to see them!

"School House Rock" style short about taking the 7 train to get crosstown instead of the crowded Shuttle.


Emphasize the exotic qualities of the G to hipsters - the train that's too cool for Manhattan!


Compare and contrast the B and the D with a smear campaign against the B for not running on weekends.


Laud the view from the trains (BDNQ) that soar over the rooftops of Chinatown, over the Manhattan Bridge to Brooklyn. Denounce those "underground uglies" like the F and the L that go through a tunnel to cross the water.

"The More You Know" style ad about the A train running express from 59th to 125th Streets.


Really, I can't understand why they don't already do this.

Extremely Pleasant Weekend

That's right folks: Audrey is officially Happy. My grad school applications are in, I threw a fantastic party on Friday (if I do say so myself), the City Bakery Festival of Hot Chocolate is on, and I'm still skinny. (Though perhaps not for long if that second to last item makes me TOO happy.)

How does this affect your quality of life, dear readers? It means that I say boring things like "I had such a nice weekend!" I actually have some amusing things to say about the Superbowl ads, but I don't feel like I have time to do them justice at the moment. Same with the haiku, though I may add them later tonight.

Fun Things to Do on Labor Day Weekend

The latest Burning Man promotional email. Courtesy Desert Boy Gas, co-written by me.





- make a quiche

- catch up on vacuuming

- have a barbecue (eat hot dogs mmm)

- roman candles and sparklers!!

- Sharks! marathon on discovery channel

- the well-known "yeah, I'm going to read being and time this labor day weekend"

- touch football in the backyard

- sit on the couch. it IS comfortable. that's why you got it. it's a good couch.

- Macy's labor day sale!!?

- sleep in

- wait for the mail to come (it won't, it's a federal holiday)

- make meatloaf

- Bay Bridge traffic/Energy 92.7 THE PARTY

- New Jersey


212 days to make good choices!


<3
Desert Boy

Eight Kinds of Coffee

...in the office breakroom. And they all taste equally awful. And by "equally awful" I don't mean different degrees of awful, or different varieties of awful. I mean that they all taste *exactly the same* - and that flavor happens to be awful.

At work, we have one of those Flavia machines that makes one cup at a time. I've also used the K-cup ones before; those are just as bad - I don't want to hear it. Anyhow, the machine comes with a bazillion different flavors that taste like they've been strained through dirty socks.

Costa Rica? Hiking socks. Kenyan Dawn? Definitely running socks. Sidamo gold? Maybe cycling socks. Sumatra? I dunno, fleeing-an-earthquake socks? It's all the same. Don't even get me started on the tea.

I do not understand why they taste alike. I suppose I understand why they make different flavors - it looks fancy! The packages are different colors! Office people will be happy because they get to choose their coffee! Or something. But really, if it's going to be this much of a charade, couldn't they try a little harder?

You would think I wrote this post while grumbling over a cup of the swill this morning, but you would be wrong. Hey, at least it's free.