Ride Home

I'm sitting on a bus, filled with young, beautiful people who are undoubtedly on their way from work. We get on this bus together, have our short time in close proximity, sit in silence with our iPods plugged in, not even knowing each other's names. How sad. The bus driver is an Asian man who surely works too hard for the payment he receives twice-a-month. The rest of the passengers are on their way to an unsatisfying job that pays their way to material happiness. This could very easily be our last ride together.

Why I love this city -- The people

And the top five;

1. Cool, arty older woman who let me work on the Sunday NYT crossword with her.
2. Funny Orthodox Jewish homeboy freestyling raps about sheckels and kippas.
3. Scary black dude whom I busted listening to Whitney's "I'm Every Woman" on his ipod.
4. Conservative blonde WASP banker-type woman who gave the homeless guy her sandwich.
5. Incredibly fragile 85-year old gentleman kindly offering his seat to a young pregnant woman.

Staying Fit in A city

There is something beautiful about sunrise in this city. An otherwise fast-paced hectic metropolis becomes this idyllic almost sleepy-town, slowly waking to another day. The exorexiacs are heading off to the gym—I have never seen more fit people in my neighborhood, I guess this is where they hide—the nice El Salvadorian ladies saying hello to me as I realize my biceps are going wild. Everything that characterizes this city still happens, but at a slower pace.

Can and Able

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