The Hangover...

Today is Guy Fawkes Day, which may mean a night of fireworks and fun for some. Today, over here though, it is the day after elections. I don't know if there is a country where fewer people turn out for elections. Even in countries where people are pretty sure that the results will be rigged, people show up in better numbers than in the United States of America. In the past 50 years, the highest turnout percentage has been 65% and, during midterms, which is what we just went through, the turnout is closer to 40%. I don't know what that all means.

I do know that I vote and I vote for all kinds of reasons. Even if things don't turn out the way that I hope (which is often the case) I can at least say that I tried and I feel that gives me the total right to gripe about all the things I don't like. I vote because I have parents who were not allowed to vote, simply because of their race, until they were over 30. Getting to the point where they could vote took a lot and so voting meant a lot. I vote because I am rather opinionated and I like to be able to put that opinion out there.

What sucks about today is the post-election hangover. A whole bunch of people is going over the ashes of what's left and trying to figure out what happened. Boy is that irritating. Postmortem, after postmortem, and none of it is illuminating. All we are doing is waiting for the kids we've given the badges to to throw their tantrums again, for another 2 years until some of us do it all over again.

Time for fireworks... hurrah?

I Can Has Outsourcing?

So the other day I heard a tale of a rather resourceful man. So, there he was, Bob, as we shall call him, working for Verizon. Well, not just working for Verizon but being the most productive guy in his department. He would come in every day and sit quietly at his desk, staring at his computer screen, apparently programming away like no one else in his department. Looks can be deceiving, Verizon has discovered.

First, Verizon thought they had been hacked. Someone was logging into their computer system from China and they were logging in as Bob, yet Bob was sitting at his desk in the United States. So Verizon called in the investigators and the investigators found that the Chinese connection was a daily event. They looked into it further and the truth became evident - Bob was paying a company in China to do his work. He paid this company a fifth of his salary and, in return, the company made Bob the most productive person in his office. In the meantime, Bob had 8 hours a day of free time. What to do with all this free time, what to do...

Now, this is where I get offended by it all. The guy had figured out a way to have more time to himself and what did he do with all that time? Watch Cat Videos. Yes, that was not me mistyping - he used his free time to watch cat videos. What are cat videos? Well there are people who spend their days filming their cats doing what they believe are amazing or funny things. Bob would spend his days watching these videos. All day. Every day.

At least he took an hour and a half lunch. 

No Offence...

So, remember how a short while ago I was going on about how Monday shouldn't have all the glory for being the worst day of the week? Well, Monday decided to go all out and try to prove me wrong. I woke up on Monday morning and as I headed out to the subway, there were no indications that this day would be any different from any other work day. I headed down the stairs and took my place on the platform and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

My subway stop is a local stop and, just to make things worse than they already were, about 5 express trains zipped by as we stood on our local track and waited. I had moments when I wondered if there had been an accident or a sick passenger. I wondered if there would be an announcement over the loudspeaker telling us that train service had been suddenly suspended. I wondered how many more people could possibly fit on the crowded platform. And still no train.

Finally.

The train came and I squished onto it - I only had to go one stop before I transferred to the express train. There was an express train waiting and I jumped on. We trundled across the bridge and made two stops. Then, the intercom system crackled to life. The train was being put out of service and we would have to transfer to the train waiting across the platform. The only problem was that the train waiting was full. Beyond full. People were packed in so tightly they made sardines look spaced out. There was no way I was getting on that train. The doors creaked shut and the train left.

And we waited.

And waited.

A train arrived on the express track and we rushed to get on it. No luck. It too went out of service. Now two loads of passengers were waiting on the next train.

And waiting.

A train trundled in on the local track and it was kinda full. But I had had enough. Using my bag as a shield, I got onto that train and headed off. I only had a couple of stops before I had to transfer again onto yet another train. It was waiting on the platform and I even found a seat. But then the train did not move. The intercom crackled to life again.

This time it was door trouble on a train a few stops down and we had to sit and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

I was surprised when the doors finally closed and the train started moving. I was maybe going to get to work before lunchtime! Hallelujah!

So, okay, yes, Monday, I am sorry if you felt slighted by my moves to bring Sunday into your realm. You have shown me who is boss. I am waving the white flag.

Don't Worry, They're Okay

As I was waiting for my train today, I looked down and received the answer to a question that I posed a couple of weeks ago. Yes, the rats survived Sandy. Call it a hurricane or call it a super storm, either way the rats looked Sandy dead in the eye and declared - you don't scare us.

So, after Sandy mistook New York for Florida and wreaked unimaginable havoc on our region, what appears to have come through unscathed is our rat population. Everything else, however, has been chaotic. But the survival of the rats must count for something right? If the rats are going to continue to run this town, we must believe that the rest of us will be okay too, right?

My Doppelganger!!

So I was roving around on the internet the other day, wondering what had happened to my brain and my soul and I had a sighting. I have been feeling rather lethargic and uninspired of late and blaming the darkening mornings and my office environment (that I seem to be stranded in) but now I know what happened. My soul escaped me and found a home in the body of a woman in Spain named Cecilia. A part of me is secretly proud. Those who know me know that I cannot draw worth a lick and this has led me to a fear of even trying. I often think - if only I could, I would draw that - and thinking is where it ends. But here, Cecilia took my highly underutilised soul and poured her heart into a fresco of Jesus needing some TLC and colour. Good for her I say. I am so glad that she is fearless in her journeys of self-expression and I am inspired! Frescoes, look out - I'm coming with my paintbrush!

I'm Melting! I'm Melting!

I was so tired that sitting or lying down was not enough; I needed to just dissolve into the bed. I needed to become one with the bed. I was beyond exhausted.

Yesterday was my first day back at work, after a 6 week break that included stomach surgery. Yesterday was also a Monday. I could have done with another hour of sleep but I got out of bed when the alarm went off and started getting ready for the day. Despite my plans, when I left home I was running about ten minutes late. I walked into my office to find that my carpet had been cleaned and, as a result, the fuse in the wall sockets had blown. My office had no power - I could not use my computer. I decided that this was divine intervention making sure that I could ease into my first day back. However, my coworker felt differently and rustled up a laptop and empty office for me.

The office was windowless and airless and happens to be the office that, rumour says, I am to be moved to in the near future. It is half the size of the windowed office that I share right now and yet I am supposed to continue sharing an office... but I digress. I go into this office and start up the laptop. The laptop goes rogue and, as I am trying to set this up, starts up every five minutes. I also try to connect a mouse to this rogue laptop (in between the regular power downs and power ups) and the mouse won't work. All I get is frustrated for about an hour before the fuse issue is resolved and I head back to my desk.

At this point, my body was achy from being more physical than it has been in a while, but I soldiered on. I got to noon before two members of my staff got into an argument. It seems that they skipped the childhood lessons on sharing. After 20 minutes of their bickering I just wanted to moan, while holding my head, "can't we just all get along?"

At half past three I crashed. It was not pretty. I tried to tell my body that it had to get through only another hour and a half but my body's argument was that it had given me six and a half hours, why was I being so demanding. I can't tell you how I got through that hour and a half - it is all a painful haze - but finally it was home time.

I got into the train and sat down. I looked up and saw my reflection. I mean, it looked like a man in clothing that I didn't recognise, but that exhausted, semi-comatose state was mine. I was DONE!!

The Times They are a'Changing

Last night I went to visit a friend and while we were there, a guest at her party pressed a card into my hand. "My daughter's birthday party is next Saturday, I hope you can make it." I looked down and was mesmerised by the glossy image above. I thought to myself, "Children's parties sure have changed since I was a kid."

Why? Convict, that's why.

Why did I go to the Department of Motor Vehicles? That is a very good question. All I needed to do was renew my driver's licence and change my address. These are tasks that I could have completed online. But I had to go into the DMV and do this in person.

Why in person, you may be wondering. Well, I shall tell you why. When I first moved to New York City, way back in 2000 (dogs probably had horns back then, my memory is hazy) I got a driver's licence and it was wonderful. I was actually sad that I didn't get to use it often because I looked quite lovely on my licence. I had spent the nineties with a series of unfortunate identification documents. On my first licence, I naively thought that hairstyles that were popular in the eighties would be timeless. I regretted that decision before I had turned 18 but I was stuck with that photo. Through college and beyond, I just could not find a camera that liked me. However, I took comfort in the knowledge that one was not meant to look decent in an ID photo - just kinda sorta like oneself.

Then I moved to New York and got my driver's licence. I could not believe my eyes; I looked great. It wasn't just me - I would present my licence as I entered bars and the bouncer would compliment me on my lovely photo. I would be all, "I know! I am so happy to be carded!" Those were glorious days.

Alas, all too soon, the days came to an end. I headed back into the DMV to renew my licence. The DMV was updating its operations then and switching to digital photography. I don't know if the man who helped me was intimidated by the new equipment or just did not know how to take a photo but the licence that arrived in the mail was the scariest piece of mail I have ever received. How bad? Well, if that photo had arrived with a ransom note, I would have told the kidnappers to do what they would as the monstrosity in the picture could not possibly want to live. Man, oh man, what a terrible picture. So my driver's licence was relegated to the depths of my wallet and is only brought out under extreme duress. I kept it away from friends and family and, mostly, me.

Despite my feelings about the DMV, I knew I had to go in and give this camera thing another try. I decided to try Brooklyn because I thought it could not possibly be as insane as Manhattan. As I have told you, I was quite mistaken. Did I mention that I ended up sitting next to a grown man who was sucking his thumb. I hesitated before I sat down as the thought flashed through my head, "if anything goes down in this place, what are the chances that it will start here?"

That photo better be worth it.

S.O.S!

I find myself at the DMV, ostensibly to renew my driver's licence but, now that I am here, I know this place has more malicious motives. Some evil power forces people to come to this place in order to crush our souls and make us lose our minds.

You enter the space and join the longest line you have ever seen. You join it, not because any signs instruct you to do so but because anyone who is standing appears to be in this lone. You try to ignore the woman who is yelling about how standing in this line to nowhere is going to take up half your day. A woman's voice comes over the announcement system with instructions that you hope apply to you and that you can understand. You have to get it right because, if you don't and you leave the line for the wrong reason, you may find yourself at the back of the long line to nowhere.

Finally, you get to the front of the line and realise that this line to get your number for service. Now you get to take a seat while you wait for service. Yes, you waited in line so you could get to wait some more on a bench, watching a screen, for when you number comes up.

Will they help you then? Will your lost mind even know? Will your crushed soul even care?