T.G.I.F.

I suppose it says alot when the first chance I've got to write this week's post comes on a Friday morning. It's also unwise to postpone my morning duties as a working professional for a post on my blog, but I just felt compelled to keep my loyal readers up-to-date with my life this past week. I know some of you have grown to appreciate (and love) my posts, which makes writing them that much more exciting for me. So thank you again.

This week has been uncharacteristically busy for me at work. Talk about getting the ball rolling and diving right in and out of summer splendor. It's finally beginning to feel like fall in New York-- just the way I like to picture New York. The weather has been more than pleasant this week with mornings that feel about as cold as Florida's coldest winter night and sunny afternoons that make eating lunch in Bryant Park nice enough to enjoy without dripping sweat on your meal.

Yes, this is the New York I love and I'm more than stolked for the fall to come. Except maybe not as excited for the immense blow to the wallet I will undeniably have to suffer from the purchase of winter gear so as to survive the bitter cold. So, this week since I had little to nothing to report I figured I'd give a little insight into what I've been thinking as I make the most of these cool days.

1. It never seizes to amaze me how New York has yet to develop a mass public transportation system that rivals those of other metropolitan areas like London's efficient Underground. Twice this week my morning commute to work has been an obstacle course in the saunas of subway platforms, herds of people and frustration. I find myself checking my watch every 30 seconds and peering down the subway tunnel in hopes of seeing the lights beyond approaching...or days (like today) when commuters have no idea the subways are being stubborn and I stand on the platform for the better part of 15 minutes before realizing that no trains are stopping at Union Square. It's madhouse sprint back to the 'Q' Train uptown and morning jog 3 streets and 2 avenue blocks to work. If only there were some way to make trains run on some sort of schedule or warning us patrons of delays prior to stepping foot into the torturesly hot basements we call subways. London, Paris and Barcelona all do it right...why don't we? I miss driving.

2. Walking through Grand Central in the mornings reminds me of the video game Frogger. Except, instead of playing dodgeball with cars on a highway, you're playing dodge the 350 lb linebacker of a CEO, unkempt-haired secretary with knit stocks and white tennis shoes and avoiding the whords (hords?) of tourists dragging their suitcase-on-wheels at an obnoxiously slow pace-- in hopes of arriving to work a semi-reasonable time or just stealthly enough to come-in late unnoticed (welcome to corporate America). So, here's what I've been thinking. I wonder how many of pictures I've been in since I've moved here. I mean 4 out of 5 of my days walking up the stairs of Grand Central I get an-all-to-fantastic welcoming by a flashing camera. There's no doubt I my giant forehead made it into grandma's picture...C'Mon! I mean...seriously people take pictures of the buildings, the streets, the terminal and I'm curious to know in how many of peoples' memories I've somehow managed to be in. It's kind of humorous to think about actually because I could be 'that guy' in one of the photos who is awkwardly glaring at the camera, or in mid-blink looking like a knocked-out, pill poppin' 15-year-old in business attire. Funny.

3. Turns out my new apartment had (has) a mouse. I discovered it the 2nd day I moved in about 2 weeks ago as I stood in front of my closet and something darted along my floor board and dashed into my closet only to disappear behind a box and down a tiny dime-sized hole in the corner of my closet. I was so startled by the tiny thing I wasn't sure whether to jump, step on it, scream, laugh, cry, choke on my salive, move out, throw up or die that the only thing that came out of my mouth was the sound I'd imagine a guerilla making if it were cholking and its mouth was duct tape shut.... uuhhhh...eeee.....uugggh (that's hard to spell). I was so shocked and it happened so fast that I stood in silence for a bit before having a minor panic attack at the thought of having to deal with a f*cking mouse. SHIT! Really, this was one of those incidents that I would have rather had out-of-sight, out-of-mind because had I never seen it, I wouldn't know what the little hole was for in my closet and I wouldn't be tip toeing around my kitchen, peeking through the door before entering the apartment and practically sleeping with one eye open at night fearful of it crawling on me at night. Instead, I did research online about the little rodents and became even more anxious at the thought of my little friend living with me (and possible 100s of his friends because they breed by the 100s). I found out steel wool (had no idea what that was before now) can divert the little buggers temporarily by causing them to chew on it, scratch their little mouths and through Pavlov's classical conditioning never to return to their entry point again. I was lucky in the sense that I saw where he was coming in and out of because if I hadn't the steel wool wouldn't have done the trick. I'm happy to report I have not seen my ratatoulie (its not a rat) so I'm calling him Stuart in weeks. Chances are he's already working on his next point of entry somewhere in my closet or making his appearances while I'm out of the apartment, which is fine with me as long as I don't see him again. Oh yea and the landlord said he'd conduct a massive genocide of the things at the end of the month (not exactly his words, but I'd rather not have to deal with them again). Ah the many wonderful things of living in New York-- rodents. Gross.

This concludes my random thought post for the day as I have severely delayed all my morning duties. Good talk.