Category Archives: in and around NYC

Little Glimpses

I was in the line at the bank, and of course at lunchtime, there were only two tellers when there were enough windows for five. There’s a long line forming and yet only two tellers working. But of course there’s a greeter, and some other random bank employees milling around but I digress.

While waiting in line one of the people at the teller window was having a problem with her requested transaction.

I couldn’t understand the whole conversation but basically there was a transaction that had happened by someone else on the account (husband maybe?) and she couldn’t make her transaction (am guessing there were not enough funds) because she and the teller couldn’t figure out what currency these other transactions had been made in..

This woman dialed someone trying to find out where his transactions had taken place. Like in what COUNTRY.

First – Google? Can she not Google the currency to find out where it is used?

Second – How do you not know where someone who is on your bank account is traveling? Clearly, I only have a small piece of the story, but it made me intrigued for more.

Unfortunately the story ends here because I have no more information. She stepped away from the counter in disgust and I was next.


Like I need more encouragement

The New York Times Travel Show was held this past weekend at the Javits Center. I went on Sunday and now the wheels in my head are spinning to decide where to visit next!

Iceland has been at the top of the list for some time – plus their economy tanked so it’s a bargain destination. If you eliminate the Galapagos, Ecuador is also a good bargain against the dollar. Nicaragua is up and coming. Spain and Portugal weren’t in attendance but a return to Spain has been on the list for a while. Egypt had a booth and it will be a great bargain when they stop being in the news.

And if I decide to stay in the country, Maine, Oregon, the Gulf Coast and the Carolinas all seem like good places to visit.

I could go on and on and on…there’s really no where I wouldn’t consider.


Step away from the desk

There’s SO more to life than a desk job and 9 to 5. 

While traveling you get the chance to meet so many people who make a living doing what they love. Their offices are boats, glacier, the street and their homes.

There are guides who spend 4 days a week trekking on glaciers in El Calafate, there is a lovely couple who takes up to 6 people out on their boat on the Tigre Delta, just outside of BsAs, 5 days a week. There’s a guy who started his own walking tour business on the streets of Buenos Aires – he runs 2 tours a day, every day. Ushuaia is the world’s southern most city and it’s the embarkation point for people to leave on Antarctic cruises. Tour guides there took us on boat tours, hiking trips, and penguin tours. 

And let’s not forget the hospitality of the people who run bed and breakfasts – inviting perfect strangers into their home.

The other thing about working and living in the US of A is that we are the laughing stock of everyone due to our vacation days. Two weeks. Pathetic. One man from Italy told me it’s our own fault. He’s right. He told me we, as a country, should stand up and demand an increase in vacation days. Unfortunately, I don’t think we have any pull until the economy shapes up. Isn’t it ironic that the people charged with fixing it have the most vacation days? I digress. That’s a rant for another day.

In the meantime I will be dreaming about my non-traditional office. Half vineyard, half boat perhaps?


Welcome Home

Arrived into JFK this morning. I always feel sad once I am off the plane and in the (always long) lines for customs and immigration but it’s always nice to have the agent tell you, ‘welcome home’ — though that’s my cue to start planning the next one – if I haven’t already been daydreaming while on the plane.

As promised, I will post at least one photo for each day I was away, accompanied by a story. Playing catch up may take a few days, and I need to figure out which photos make it onto the blog but I assure you that you can check back for Feb 9 – Feb 20 for some travel writing. In the meantime, I will continue writing…perhaps with some teaser stories from the trip.


And…we’re off!

And we’re off! Heading to Buenos Aires (locals call it BsAs for short)! We left cold, snowy and icy New York for summertime in Argentina! This trip was my first time to cross the equator (except I was asleep both ways).

And speaking of sleep, I did get some. Our plane was two – aisle – five – aisle – two. We were in the three and four seats in the five. Two friends were on the aisles, and one moved over so the middle was empty. One of the girls and I took turns sprawling across that extra empty seat.

Not sure if this arrangement makes sense as I write this but long story short — even if I didn’t get a wink of sleep during the whole flight, the minute I stepped off that flight, I was AWAKE!!

BsAs is a city full of life and we had much to see, do, eat, drink and buy!


Sexy Boot

I had to exchange a pair of jeans at the Gap the other day. I bought them a few weeks ago yet I realized they didn’t fit right when I went to put them on a few days later. Yeah, that’s the kind of terrible shopper I am and even worse, I procrastinate when I have to go back to the store to return and/or exchange anything.

I had thought the problem was an easy fix…clearly it’s the stitching and that’s why there was weird bunching in the leg. When I tried another pair of the exact style and size, I realized what was wrong with them, was actually me.

I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible because I don’t love shopping unless I am with someone who can find the diamond in the rough (my sister rocks at that). I simply wanted to find a pair that fit. Anyone who has ever tried to find that perfect pair of jeans knows that this was going to be a pain in the ass.

Because I am a terrible shopper, I immediately friended the salesgirl in the fitting room. I think she felt bad for me because now in this second pair of the curvy jean style, even I could see they did not fit right. In fact, anyone could see that they weren’t laying right in the leg. I would like to say it was a result of shoddy labor, but again, two pairs from two different stores, in two different states, had the same problem. I admitted defeat by realizing the curvy fit was probably not the right pair for me. And the perfect fit, not so perfect for me either.

The salesgirl was SO helpful and went back and forth from the dressing room to the store to bring me different styles, sizes and washes. This was NYC around lunchtime, on a Friday. The personalized service was totally not expected. It almost felt like I was  shopping with my sister – who is the best personal shopper ever – but again, almost. It wasn’t as fun as when I am with my sister.

What fits me is, get this, the sexy boot.

This makes me laugh, because it is purely a marketing ploy.

I once worked for a man who headed up marketing at the Gap, and I remember a conversation we once had. I remember telling him how I loved my long and lean Gap jeans. They fit me perfectly, and still do! He told me they came up with that name because the target body shape was short girls who wanted to feel long and lean. I don’t know that I want to feel long and lean. I just wanted a damn pair of jeans that looked, and felt, good.

Because I have some knowledge about how they name different fits for different body types, buying those sexy boot jeans today made me laugh. What was the Gap marketing team thinking about the body type of women who fit into the sexy boot? I wasn’t buying them to look sexy, I was buying them in ankle length, to wear with my Converse, so it’s not exactly fitting the mold – or looking back at the target for the long and lean, is it?

Ladies, it’s something to ponder when buying your next pair of jeans, and the search to find the style that works best for your body type. Ignore the name, just find that perfect fit – even if it has a silly name. When you find the fit and the size that works for you, embrace it. I did, and now I am the proud owner of a pair of sexy boot jeans that fit me, even with my Converse, perfectly.


Observations – Evening Commute

Who knew I would strike blog gold (well, maybe bronze) twice in one week? I guess it’s when you start looking for it, and start to write it down, it’s right in front of you. Literally, right in front of you, like while waiting for the bus to go home one night earlier this week.

The bus line runs past the entrance for both the men’s and women’s restrooms. The line breaks just before the doorway and starts again just after the doorway to allow people to cut through the line and walk into the bathroom. Personally, I think getting stuck in line on either side of the doorway for the bathroom – men’s or women’s – are the worst places to be stuck in line. Though, the positioning allows for interesting observations, especially since it’s the Port Authority Bus Terminal, New York City’s glorious armpit.

As I am waiting for my bus line to move, I find myself situated at the doorway for the men’s room. Many men walk in but the one who I choose to write about, walked in while talking on the phone. A few minutes later, since I haven’t moved an inch, I see him walk out of the men’s room, still chatting away on the phone.

Several scenarios could have taken place in those few minutes he disappeared from my view, yet only one question remains.  Was the call (or calls, as could have been the case) THAT important?


Observations – Morning Commute

There were no seats left on the bus so I was standing. Of course, there was no where to hold because the handles are on top of the seats and where I was standing the girl sitting had long hair which covered the handle. Instead I surfed*, because I am pretty good at it.
Because I felt like crap and already was achy, it didn’t help that my purse felt like I was carrying a ton of bricks even though it was pretty empty.
The first time the bus stopped it just so happens that one of the seats next to where I was standing opens up. The seat is next to a middle aged woman who’s been talking on her cell loudly and incessantly even before the bus pulled out. I knew this commute was only going to get better because now that I was sitting, I could actually take notes on her conversation.

Here are my observations, which turned into amusement, during my morning commute (you don’t get this in the burbs!):

  • I gather that she travels a lot. ‘January has flown by, I’ve been in LA, Florida and Chicago.’
  • She has had ‘ENOUGH of hotels’ and ‘can’t wait to sleep in my own bed.’
  • I also gather that she works in fashion or has a shoe fetish. She spoke about espadrilles, pumps and flats.
  • More evidence leaning towards working in fashion – she later spoke about different factories and different cities in China
  • She’s ‘not accustomed to public transportation because we had to give up the car once the lease ran out.’ Clearly you are not accustomed to public transport and its golden rules because you are the only one talking on the phone while everyone fidgets with their BlackBerries. Some of us, are even taking notes on your conversation.
  • Words heard multiple times throughout her conversation making me laugh – cuckoo, insanity, crazy, ridiculous and my personal favorite, three ring circus.
  • Every item she is wearing has a designer label from the Prada sunglasses (Really? We’re on a dark bus) to the designer pocketbook (there’s a logo but I don’t know whose it is) and I’d be willing to bet that the overpowering perfume she has on is even a fancy label.

Once it is time for her to get off, she tells me she feels like a bag lady. Only then do I see she has three designer purses (not gym bags – purses) on her lap.

I said we all have those days. She said, its every day for me. I wanted to ask, but didn’t, what could you possibly be carrying in those bags every. single. day?

As she walked to the front of the bus I saw that the fur coat she was wearing was actually floor length. So, she’s right. She really must not use public transport that much, or ever, because the bottom half of that coat would be a mess in the snowy, slushy mess of a city otherwise. I suppose if you have a car, or a driver, you don’t need to climb through mounds of snow to cross the street, or plod through large rivers of slush at street corners like the rest of us.


Nodding Off

I found myself in a conundrum on the bus this week. The guy next to me fell asleep AND was in that moment where he made the movement in that deep sleep, to lean to his right. I was on his right.  Um? I don’t know you, you are not going to lay your head on me.

I moved my left arm in a chicken dance kind of movement to try and wake him. It worked.


Pay phones

I saw a guy the other day using a pay phone on the street. It got me thinking. In five, ten or fifty years from now, what’s going to happen to them? Will they still work? Will they become commemorative street art? A living museum? A throwback to the past?

Funny because these were the prime method of communication if you were not at home. I am not sure the last time I used one, but they just seem so dirty now!

When was the last time you used one?