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Second Avenue Subway

If you look at all the ads, you would think the new subway was the best thing to happen to the Upper East Side since Gehrig was born there.

As a resident of the UES, I can tell you that is a joke. First of all, it goes from 96th Street to Time Square, so if you need to go to GCT to catch the 7 train, well you still can, but you’ll be catching it from Time Square.

And tonight when I needed a train home from Harold Square, it wasn’t running. Add to that the fact that I am hearing rumors of huge rent increases leading me to believe I’m going to have to move and I hate moving … this is not helping my depression … new Q train is a fucking joke.

Depression is

Depression is a fucking bitch. As I say that I hope the people who I told to not read my blog, are not reading it, because they would be offended at my language. After years of denial, I have to face the truth, my BFF told me, Girl, you are so depressed. And then I spent an evening crying over Facebook. Not what someone posted to me, my hateful posts back to him. Amazingly, he still talks to me. Maybe he understands.


The first thing people say when someone says they are depressed is “What do you have to be depressed about?” That comment kept me from realizing my own depression. I now know. Depression doesn’t depend on external forces, depression comes from inside. Even though I am ‘living my dream’, my brain …. is fucking me up. Telling me, I don’t deserve anything good that happens to me. And, you don’t deserve to be happy, you don’t deserve the friends you have. I can’t figure out why these people who have it made want me to be their friend. And friends who have left me, because I couldn’t explain … I don’t know what I’m saying, “Depression lies & my brain is sometimes an asshole”. That’s all I got.

So here I am 

It was a frustrating day at first. Overslept so I missed church then was late to a new knitting group meeting. This one is a Ravelry group and there were just four of us but it was pleasant. 

Because of my screwups I didn’t get food. I was tempted to make my way to The Pony Bar for an avocado sandwich but opted for someplace I wouldn’t have to walk so far since my boot wore a hole in my heel. I ended up at the Dive Bar. 

Not “a dive bar”, The Dive Bar, 732 Amsterdam Ave., NYC. I had a Vegetarian Reuben. It came with a salad with no dressing, just the way I like it. Is it any wonder why I love this place? Well that and the power outlets under the bar and the access to free wifi. They also will fill a growler. 

It made me think of why I first came here, but it’s been so long I don’t really remember. I think I kind of stumbled upon it by accident the first time and was so impressed I keep coming back. Or at least try to stop here whenever I’m on the West Side. For a while I was writing snippy reviews on Yelp because the owner/manager would respond to any rating below a 4 and try to make it better. But I don’t know how this place could be any better than it is unless the food and drink was free.


Doing laundry is a pain, first there’s the whole actually having to wash my clothes. If i was rich and didn’t have trust issues (i don’t like people touching my stuff), I would pay for someone to wash my clothes.

It’s worse when it’s raining. Especially when it’s been raining all day so there are puddles i have to walk through. Add to that the construction workers keep moving the fences so i had to backtrack while pulling a rolling cart in the rain. Then i realized i had forgotten my laundry detergent, so i had to go back to my apartment to get it. I hate doing laundry.

Oh Hey, I am Running Boston

This is my friend, she is a great person, always encouraging me with my running. Now she needs encouragement and money, check out the blog. Do what you can. Thank you.

Running for My Life

So, figured I should start a better blog for all my running crap that I wish to spew about, because Tumblr ain’t cutting it.  Right now my big running news is I AM RUNNING THE BOSTON MARATHON, SO AWESOME.  This will end up being my 3rd Marathon as I am currently training for the Philadelphia Marathon and have already run the Vermont City Marathon.  Of course running Boston means you either need to qualify, or run for charity, and while my speed has improved, I am not that fast yet, so charity it is.  I am running for the Dana Farber Cancer Institute, because who really has not been affected my cancer, a disease I would love to disappear.  Anyways, I could use all of your help with this as I need donations, A LOT of donations.  I have to raise at least $5000, so if you could donate, or…

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Celebrate World Teachers’ Day

World Teacher Day

Infographic courtesy of Grammarly

5 years ago

and a week or so …  


While scrolling through my twitter feed I came across the following tweet.

Even though I grew up in the South I have been living in New York for almost all of my adult life, I was sure I would be familiar with most of these foods. As this list demonstrates New York and New England have some major differences at least food wise. A few of these I have eaten, some I have known of for years, some friends have talked about but most had me scratching my head and saying: “What the ….”

The link in the tweet takes you an article with only 9 of them, the following link is for the original article with all 22 items.

22 Things You’ve Definitely Eaten If You Grew Up In New England

After saying “What I missed not growing up in New England!” @eladyland said, Florida probably has a list too; hmmm no, not really. After giving it serious consideration, I could only come up with two, and one of those is southern not Florida specific. Biscuits and gravy, and strawberry shortcake.

The strawberry shortcake I am talking about it the kind you get at the Strawberry festival in Plant City. Where you get a plate with a biscuit on it, a huge biscuit, split in half, then you walk along a table with a bowl of strawberries and a bowl of whipped cream and pile them on.

Biscuits and gravy is not a Florida food. I don’t even know if you can get it there. The gravy is sausage gravy, basically a white sauce with sausage in it. The sausage is cooked before adding to the gravy so its not real greasy, but you can still feel it sticking to your arteries when you eat it. The biscuits are huge, as big as my brother’s hand. You can’t get it here in NYC, it used to be available at Denny’s or Perkins but no more. Even when they had it the biscuits were small.

Whenever I go visit my parents I make them take me to every restaurant in driving distance that serves biscuits and gravy. I just love it.

Those are the foods I remember from my childhood. Everything else, is pretty much what everybody had as a child.


Sometimes I feel like a total loser. Like tonight, which is why I am writing this instead of sleeping, which is what I should be doing.

It’s not that everything in my life is going bad, or I did a lot of things wrong. It was just one thing, just one thing that turned me upside down and convinced me that I can do nothing right. I got upset about something, but I felt I shouldn’t have been upset, there was no good reason to be upset. I started hearing the voices in my head condemning me for being demanding and unreasonable. Instead of just moving on I have let it become a black hole that I can’t move on from.

The worst thing is the tears, because I am upset, I’m doubly upset, once for what happened and for being upset when I feel I shouldn’t be. I even wrote down the reasons why I shouldn’t be upset ending with “I’m not special, stop thinking that.” I stopped short of saying how stupid I was and what a horrible mess of things I have made.

So I tried to fix it, so I wouldn’t get upset and disappointed again, and now I’m afraid I’ve made things worse which will of course make me an even bigger loser.


You saw me walking through Port Authority with my iPhone in hand, I don’t know what you thought when you saw me but whatever it was you approached me and asked for money. I said no.

Normally that ends it, the panhandler says ‘God bless you anyway’, and moves on. For some reason you decided to try to talk me into giving you some money. You told me about getting money from another lady, how she made you promise not to spend it on alcohol or drugs and that you promised her that, you assured me that you weren’t going to get drugs or alcohol, that you needed the money because you had a job interview and needed to get nicer clothes and cleaned up. All of that could be true, what is also true is what I said, I had no money to give you. You chose not to believe me, in fact you directed me to the Bank America so I could get money from the ATM. I thought about the man on the subway who smiled and thanked me for the orange I gave him. I got angry and walked away.

When I saw you I didn’t assume that you were lazy, a drunkard, or a drug addict. What did you assume when you saw me? Did the fact that I have an iPhone make you think I’m rich? That because my boots are expensive, new and shiny that I have money to burn? I’m not rich, I don’t have money to burn. My iPhone is not the latest model, I bought my boots from a discount store and they were shiny because I had just got them shined. You didn’t know that, you also didn’t know I was at PANY because a friend was stranded and I just bought her food and a bus ticket home, which is why I was smiling and in a good mood. I don’t expect you to care about these facts, but you expect me to believe you when you say you need money for a job interview, all I’m asking from you is for you to believe me.