It’s been a while since I showed up here. So much has happened: my birthday day (which was awesome, btw), Super Storm Sandy (we only lost electricity, hot water, heat and cell phone service; we were blessed to be so lucky), Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, the start of 2013, my better half’s birthday, Groundhog Day, Winter Storm Nemo, Valentine’s Day, a vacation in Mexico and here we are in mid march, with St. Patrick’s Day around the corner. Whew. My only excuse is that the days pass slowly but the months fly by…

One of the things about living in NYC is that there are very few places for personal conversations. Other than inside your apartment there are no private or enclosed spaces in which to talk about intimate things. If you are a New Yorker you have these conversations while you are walking down the street or while riding the subway. You talk loudly into your cell phone because reception is bad and there is always traffic noise. In effect, you don’t care because you can’t.

Here are some of my favorite overheards so far:
(Walking south on 6th Ave toward Houston):
Woman on cell phone: Oh, you mean that asshole? Did you know I used to be engaged to him?

(Walking south on 10th St. toward 7th Ave):
Girl: What do you want me to say?
Boy: Well, I’m just upset because this whole situation could have been avoided.
Girl: I’ve said I was sorry; what else do you want me to say?
Boy: You didn’t have to do it.
Girl (screaming): What do you want me to say?

(on the F train coming back from Brooklyn)
1st woman: Oh, honey, I’ve had all kinds of mental problems. I’ve been tested, too.
2nd woman: Well, my doctor told me I was crazy and need to be on drugs.
1st woman: Honey, I should be on so many drugs but I like hearing the voices.

(At the corner of Greenwich Ave and 10th St. on a Friday night):
Woman on cell phone: No sushi. I am way too hung-over fucked-up for sushi.