the happy kind

everything is making me cry today. the raging hormones of the
christmas spirit. on the bus this morning, i greeted my driver with a
smile and a good morning. this is something i learned from san
francisco. those folks know how to honor their bus drivers. i sat by
the window and waited and waited to drive away and realized we weren't
driving. when i looked up, i saw we were waiting for an elderly man
at the door to scrounge together $2.25 to ride. before i had even
taken stock of the situation, at least three ladies and gentlemen on
the bus opened up their wallets and started pulling out quarters and
bills. "do you have it all? here, do you need another one?" by the
time the flurry of fingerless gloves had ceased, the man was handing
back coins as he had received too many. our bus driver said thank you
over the intercom. i was overwhelmed. i looked out the window and nearly
cried a little.

at which point, we stopped at the next red light and
there across the street was a mother standing with her very small
child at a construction site. the men in their hard hats and
florescent vests had stopped their work and were knelt around the boy,
showing him the rebar and explaining their task with smiles on their
faces. just a simple moment of strangers sharing the wonder of work
with a small boy. when i got up to leave the bus and walk the
remaining blocks down central park, i paused at the door and offered a
"merry christmas!" to the bus driver. he couldn't believe it. he took
my hand and said, "oh my! thank you dear. Merry Christmas!"

i wanted to be disappointed. does no one say merry christmas anymore?
are we so used to the holiday that we blush when someone actually says
the word christmas?

but no. i had to remember that i had already seen two
other merry christmases that morning. in the form of kindness and
quarters. and then, at my desk, i got an electronic holiday card from
a former colleague in korea. a giant image of a manger snow globe
with red lettering that shouted, MAY THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD SHINE ON YOU
THIS SEASON. and below it, "for there is born to you this day in the
city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord."

that's three good cries before 11 am. three good cries. because good
is all around us. all thanks to christmas morning.

merry happy

she continues

in the 9 days since i moved to manhattan:

i met a girl who has nothing in her apartment but a bottle of wine and an empty carton of cigarettes. we laughed about it mostly, and spent the rest of the afternoon finishing the bottle and reading about the top 75 brunch places in nyc. none of which we could afford.

went to a whiskey shop and asked for rum. he could have very well curled his lip and scoffed and walked away to fiddle with his turntable. instead he made me taste shots of whiskey out of dixie cups until i conceded that there are whiskeys that go down as easy as sweet rum and land a girl with the same degree of headache in the morning.

went to a party in brooklyn and met a couple who may never know this, but in the 15 minutes we walked together down jefferson, realized we passed our train stop, walked five minutes back, and rode the subway to williamsburg, put me at peace in such a way that i couldn't even bring myself to read faulkner the rest of the ride back to manhattan. that's the beauty of strangers.

walked down madison ave to the M15 and came to the conclusion that it christmas' fault that i've fallen in love with new york. it's the christmas lights. (or 'twinkly lights' if you hale from chicago. or bloomington illinois.) they make everything attractive. on your next first date, cocoon your dining room with christmas lights and i promise you he'll think your uma thurman. if you have a dining room, that is. which, if you're also in new york, you probably don't. which is ok, because right now you can't walk anywhere in this city and escape the soft glow of white lights. manhattan gets done up right. and we all benefit.

i haven't had any pizza. i'm afraid. what if someone asks me how it was? that's like going to a wine tasting in napa and being asked to describe the tannins and finish on the back of your tongue. the back of your tongue, mind you. that's where it counts. and all that comes out of my mouth is, 'it's quite violaceous.' and i get kicked out. what if i get it wrong? i refuse to try any pizza until accompanied by edward burns to guide me. mostly because i would accompany edward burns anywhere.

i gave someone directions. that's right. someone asked me directions, and i knew the answer. welcome to new york!