It's lunchtime and I can smell the Cincinnati chili. It's been a favorite since I was a kid. You can't even get the spice packets for it here, but my mom sends me a few in the mail every once in a while. Precious commodity. When I make it, I make it in the evenings so it has time to simmer and the flavors can meld in the fridge overnight.
But it's lunchtime and I am eating cereal. I can smell the Cincinnati chili because it just got dumped in the trash. Because I made it last night and never put it in the fridge.
I know it's a bit early to be thinking about Christmas. But it's been on my mind lately as downtown NYC starts to sparkle with Christmas lights.
And you better believe NYC does it up right. Carefully wrapped branches result in beautiful twinkling trees. None of that throw-it-in-the-branches-and-call-it-a-day stuff.
But one of my very favorite places at Christmastime is currently "Occupied."
Zuccotti Park, where the Occupy Wall Street movement is camped out, is a block-sized, understated park you really wouldn't think twice about walking through. In the daytime, it's full of people sitting on its stone benches, eating lunch from the nearby food carts. Tourists take pictures from here of the WTC site.
But the real magic of this park is at night. We often walk through Zuccotti Park on our way home from work. (Well, we did, before the Occupiers arrived.) This particular park has light bars built into the ground every few steps, making it a really beautiful, peaceful, ambient place to be at night. I love it. I've even told my husband that if things had been different, I would love to have been proposed to in that park.
And the beauty of the lights is only magnified at Christmas, when each bare tree is painstakingly wrapped with strands of white Christmas lights. And the planters in the park are taken over by huge, perfect Christmas trees.
A little natural snow never hurts
So I'm a bit sad that it's looking like I won't be enjoying my favorite Christmas spot this year. I wish I had a picture of it at night to show you. But if I took it now, it'd be full of plastic tarps and unshowered protesters.
{This is not meant to be a political statement. Let's keep it that way.}
I knew it. I just knew those rickety elevators in our office building were going to let me down someday. Amazingly it took more three years for it to happen. But on our way home from work tonight, we didn't make it past the elevator. At least not for a while.
I'm glad Scott leaves at the same time as me and I'm glad we were the only ones in the elevator. As we descended, the elevator gave a little jerk when it reached the first floor. We looked at each other. We looked at the doors. They didn't open. We looked at each other. I tried pressing the door open button. Nothing happened. I pressed it again, harder. And again. Nothing. Should I press another floor and see if it will go up? I ask. Sure, he says. So I do. Nothing. So I press the alarm button and the front desk security guard asks if we are stuck and we say yes. Are we fine? Yes, fine. Okay, he says, I'm calling the elevator guy. A few minutes later he is on the intercom again. The elevator guy will be here in a few minutes, just stay put. Where else are we going? We sat on the floor and played games on our phones. No signal to post our misfortune on Facebook. Drat.
Thankfully we were stuck less than 20 minutes. And we really were fine. The elevator didn't plunge to any depths and neither of us is quite that claustrophobic. So we survived.
Yesterday, we went sailing on the Hudson River. Like, on a little tiny boat. Okay, they do get smaller, but there were five of us and it was, uh, intimate.
Scott's been talking about wanting to learn to sail for as long as I can remember. And with the river just steps away from any part of NYC, this is a good place to get the opportunity. Thanks to Groupon (if you decide to join, please use that link, cause it tells them I referred you) we got a half-price "Taste of Sailing" outing from Hudson River Community Sailing, which they call a "two-hour recreational, hands-on sail."
And it was a blast! (Except for the whole getting smacked in the head by the sail part. But I survived.)
The weather was absolutely gorgeous. Warm but not hot, and fairly windy. The water was a little choppy because of the wind, but nobody got seasick and we didn't fall in.
Scott got to hoist the sail, and I actually steered the boat for a while. And I didn't even 1) run us into anything or 2) capsize us.
The life vest adds 10 pounds.
What goes up, must come down.
It was fun to actually be on one of the sailboats we so often watch from our window. Not sure if we'll do it again, but it's something I'm glad we did.
I know I know, months without posting and now two in a row. And no, this is not an attempt to hide my sex post. You can still read it. I just have other stuff to say.
Surely you've heard — or seen — lately the people who are warning us about Judgment Day on May 21. People all over this city and many others have been handing out fliers and wearing signs on their backs that the Rapture is going to happen in two days. It's been big in the news, even people on the subway are chatting about it.
Working in a newsroom, this Judgment Day thing has come up a lot. Stories. Quotes. People are asking a lot of questions to the open air. "So good people disappear and sinners stay?" Not quite.
I've been thinking the last few days that all this talk about Judgment Day is such a huge opportunity to share Christ. To explain what the Rapture really is (not that I'm an expert). Because people are ASKING. I'm not someone who is just going to open up and start talking about God. But if you're asking a question, yes, I will answer.
Today I stepped into a conversation in the office involving about seven other people to explain that it's those who are saved who are taken. And how you can become one of those who gets taken. And how being a believer doesn't mean we're not sinners. And that it's heaven afterward and not some big dark void.
Yeah, I'll admit it. I'm proud of myself for saying something. I know I sound just about as crazy as those people saying it's all over in two days. (For the record, I don't believe they're right. "But about that day or hour, no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father." [Matthew 24:36])
But even though I think we'll all be here well past Saturday, I do know one thing:
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