Look! I'm on my new iMac! With internet! w00t!

On to the post…

Picture this: It's yesterday. I was in bed at 4:00pm, having just woken up from a 2 hour nap, sore all over from the walk 2 blocks then climb 6.5 flights up with my 12-pound iMac (oh, shush, that's heavy when you have to carry it for all that way! ), exhausted from having woken up at 4:15am for no apparent reason other than I wanted to spend a little time on the laptop to give you the update update update, then a bit of time with Dawg before he had a really long day, wondering how the hell I would ever be able to get out of bed again, when my phone rang.

Not the Nokia Tune ring I have set for when Dawg calls, but the Ringtone 1 ring that everyone else on the planet is set for when they call. I hastily grabbed my phone with the intention of shutting it up, assuming it was some employer who found my resume on Dice or Monster, out to tease me with the prospect of a job that is completely outside my skillset (are they reading the same resume I am?) or completely below my skillset (um, if I went to college in 1992 then I assure you I'm not looking for an entry level, fresh out of college, "let me teach you what a mouse is, little girl" job).

But, nope. The display read: Britt. "Holy crap, what the hell is she calling me for?!" I quickly answered in as unsleepy a voice as I could feign: "Hey, Britt." And then Britt proceeded to ask me questions about getting from Queens to Manhattan and "what is this Jamaica, New York they keep talking about?!" (*giggle*). As if the phone is for just asking people questions, not delivering bad news or catching up after not talking for a really long time… just, everyday functional.

That Britt, she's an extrovert.

If I had wanted to call Britt, not txt, but CALL her about something it would have taken me three days to get up the courage, then I would have emailed and txted her that I wanted to call her, intended to call her, and exactly the time and date that I would be calling her, before I actually called her. Because I, dear internets, am an introvert. And this one time when I was 3 (three) I made my first phone call to my Crazy Aunt Val but my Mean Uncle Ron (no longer grumpy for reasons I won't bother getting into) intercepted the call and flat out refused to accept that my three-year-old self was in any way related to a woman he was married to. Or, maybe he was comfy in his chair with his beer and pretzels and Judge Whopner and didn't feel like yelling up the stairs, "VAL, PHONE CALL!" Anyway, trauma achieved after trying to call him twice then my mom took the phone and called and chewed out both my uncle and my aunt, blah blah blah, I hate the phone.

(A small pause in the story to say: I absolutely adore my new keyboard. It's perfect for my fingers, and the keys are a perfect height off the keyboard, and the keyboard itself is so light and [not fluffy, but... airy] in my lap.)

So, the reason Britt called was that she was trying to decide if, when she comes to have her glorious Hot Blogger Calendar photo session in Manhattan, she will stay in a hotel in Manhattan or try to save some money by staying in Queens, but she was concerned about how to get around. My best advice as a previous tourist, now semi-quasi-New Yorker, only legitimized by my name on a lease and on two utility bills, is if she stays outside of Manhattan to make sure any hotel she does stay at is right near a subway entrance. Not having grown up here, I find the subway absolutely simple to use. You ask a New Yorker how to use the subway and they give you this crazy story that in the end confuses you worse than if you had just read a map yourself, as if they don't actually understand how to use the subway (they do; they just don't explain it well to the non-locals). It's ok if you're at a stop serviced by a "local only" subway — you just find where the local subway crosses with a major subway line into Manhattan and you (*gasp*) transfer to the other train at that stop.

An example: Last week I took the Woodhaven Boulevard V train, a local service only route, to the Roosevelt Avenue stop, then the doors of the subway car opened on the other side from where I entered the car to a cross-platform stop so that I could literally walk across that platform directly onto another train, thus completing my transfer from the local V train to the E train. I took the E train to 14th Street at 8th Avenue, and walked the rest of my way to where I was going, a few blocks East and a block South (very easy for someone who isn't directionally challenged like myself, but I got there alright).

I have some other tips, too, so let's summarize the first tip plus this one:

1. As mentioned, make sure to stay at a hotel that is near a subway entrance.

2. Have a fold-up map of the subway system with you at all times. Try not to open it up obviously and look like a tourist unless you want someone following you off the train when you get off, but, do what ya gotta do to read the map.

3. Estimate how many times you think you'll need to get onto the subway after exiting to the road surface, add 3, then buy a Metro card for that number of times. They can be purchased at subway entrances or stores that advertise that they sell Metro cards. I personally have only bought them in the subway stations so far. If you don't use all the trips you purchased before you leave New York then hold onto it if you think you're coming back within a reasonable amount of time, give it to a friend who lives in New York, or tape a note to the card that says "there are # number of trips left on this card, I'm paying it forward. Please enjoy!" and tape it to a phone booth… or, if you really have time to waste, just stand at the subway turnstyle entrance/exit and wait for someone who thought they had another trip on their Metro card to get the big red NOPE! signal to letting them through, then just run your card through. Instant karma!

4. If you are lost, completely and utterly, ask a stranger to help you. Use your Spidey sense about which stranger, and even then you can get it wrong, so be ready for a fight or flight response, but generally strangers are actually helpful in New York. If you can't find a stranger you "trust" then ask someone who works at the subway entrance. There are subway workers on both sides of the turnstyle, so even if you're already in the subway you can still ask someone.

5. If you get a weird vibe about the subway car you're in then move to a different one. If that's not a possibility then try to find a spot in the car where you can see as much of the action in the car as possible. I've not yet had this problem, every car I've chosen has felt nice and safe and friendly, but it will happen. It's just inevitable. Better to have a plan ahead of time than be surprised and dismayed that someone dares to make you feel uncomfortable when you're just there for peace and love.

I have lots more subway tips, but I'm gonna stick to those for now.

And I know a lot of you live in a location with a subway, have even lived in NYC or still do, so what are your best tips?

In closing, I'd just like to say I cannot wait for October 4-5, when the Hottest Bloggers in the Blogosphere all come together to make an awesome calendar and I get to see the Britters again in the city she is destined to call home.

And totally not related to Britt at all, I'd like to make a small comment about my first experience with a September 11th in New York City. I happened to be at Dawg's parents' house for the morning waiting for my iMac to arrive. I was sitting on the couch watching the 9/11 ceremony coverage, and every time there was a moment of silence I would burst into tears and start talking to Yum . I didn't know her at all, I just know about her from what Dawg shares, but I suddenly had a new appreciation for the sacrifice she made on 9/11/01. I waited and waited and waited for her name to be read: Yamel Josefina Merino. A beautiful picture of her was displayed, one that showed her full of life. And instead of bursting into tears again I just smiled, happy that she was again being honored, gone but never forgotten. To some people 9/11/01 means nothing. To some people 9/11/01 means the world. Let us accept and respect our differences in perspective and not criticize people on the other side of the fence from us for feeling differently than we do about that day.

And as I excitedly txted a bunch of you last night, Dawg and I went to see the Tribute in Light(s) last night. I tried my best to get an awesome photo of them, but didn't quite succeed. I got a very blurry artistic shot which you can view here. Dawg has better ones. He might upload them someday, but they might be for his personal collection. Time will tell.