Through the looking glass.

It's interesting to see how people see you.

What you think you portray to the world is not necessarily what is perceived. You can feel in your heart of hearts that you are right, but then you can find out you aren't. To our relief, sometimes people won't linger on what you may have done wrong. Sometimes though, they do. Whether you like it or not, they are factually correct. Yet, it requires tact to refrain from mentioning the obvious or your flaws because it is not always appropriate to state out blatantly these things.

I believe it's good to be told when you have made a mistake. I correct people, and I hope they correct me when I deserve it. It's kinder that way. However, once it has been said, everyone should just move on.

Biking...

It has some good and bad. It connects you to fellow bikers and divides you from cars and pedestrians.

Biking provides me the exercise and fresh air I need to start my day. My 9-5 job. My daily routine. However, I will have to say head wind is a killa.

When I crossed roads the other day... one of the days I biked to work, a motorcyclist let me cross the street in front of him and then on 6th Avenue, a taxi motioned through his window for me to pass as he waited to make a left turn. It was so nice. But then later on, when I was biking home, a bald and lanky pedestrian with hipster glasses who walking with his Asian girlfriend across Houston (I should clarify: J-walking across Houston) called me a bitch. I was ok with that because I did nothing wrong. The New York City state of mind boggles me sometimes. So often we put our lives in the hands of others. When you cross the street, you look. You don't expect cars and bicyclists to completely come to a stop because you are not patient enough to wait those two seconds for vehicles to pass you. It takes so much less effort to stop the motion of your legs than it is to stop wheels in motion with its inertia of movement.

Flashback: Sometime during my senior year at NYU. I was crossing Washington Square South at the intersection of Washington Square East to get to Bobst. I looked over to my right where the flow of traffic was. Though it was not my right of way, I started to cross the street because there were no cars. However, there was a biker who was coming from my left side and hit me. I fell back and scraped my palms. Fellow pedestrians immediately yanked me back to my feet and asked if I were ok. I remember thinking,  when you fall to the ground, you just need a moment to collect yourself. However, their kindness was appreciated regardless. What was not appreciated was the biker who looked me up and down, got back on his bike and peddled away.

Blood Ties

Last night was really great. I reunited with relatives that I barely knew. We all exchanged numbers and hopefully will get better acquainted. Winston and Hedy were super sweet in trying to get me involved with karaoke, which was only feasible when BSB or NSYNC was on.

This morning I woke up at 6 am to take the R to the L to my sublet. I had left my bike out there overnight but couldn't get to it by 4 today since working 9-5 prohibits doing things like that. I was toppling over because there were four doors between the front entrance to the street. This man who was in a red van looked at me... and then helped me up. I'm going to miss Brooklyn and all the people in it. Biking across the Williamsburg bridge was beautiful; the clouds were still a bit pink.

Flashback:
Summer 1998. I had met my cousins Cindy, Judy, and Wendy for the first time since we were toddlers. I had just finished my school year with Miss Lewis, and was excited to go to Aunt Jenny's wedding. I was a few months too late for that, but I had such a great summer going to Disneyland in Anaheim, renting scary movies like Leprechaun in Garden Grove, and swimming in Costa Mesa. Wendy is one of my best friends now, and it started out as a simple blood relationship.

maktub.

This weekend had been crazy.

I was rushing to Meera's apt with my luggage and slipped and fell on my butt! I had to transfer from the L to the ACE but as I emerged from Penn Station, this kind man helped me carry my oversized suitcase up the stairs for me.

My birthday party was good... people bought me drinks for my gaining wisdom and another year.

I couldn't fall asleep last night and my mom woke me up so early to drive me to NYC. I told her it was unnecessary and got 40 more minutes of sleep. Amazingly, she defines unconditional love. My mom always is willing to do anything for me, at the expense of her time and energy. I don't think I tell her I love her enough. As I rushed to the bus terminal, I caught the bus as it was pulling out! When I got to Port Authority, I hopped into a cab and was able to move in some stuff at the new apartment.

Flashback:
March 2007. Savita and I were in the Guinness Storehouse and our bartender, Connor, took FOREVER to serve us. As a result, he smiled his adorable smile and spoke in his charming Irish accent, "Sorry about that." He handed us our glasses with a treat: a blackcurrant four-leaf clover in the foam as an apology. As I was about to hand him our exchange rings for the beers that he never asked for, Savita pulled me back. By the end of the day, we somehow got five pints instead of the two that came with the admission fee.

A good day.

Today,

...it's raining, but tropical storm danny is turning its trajectory away from us.

...the L trained stopped in the middle of the tunnel due to an emergency brake on the train before us, but someone got off at Lorimer so that I could sit down.

...the lady behind me was too close for comfort as we got on the M15 bus, which I had just caught as I emerged from the subway on 1st Ave, but her oversized umbrella shielded me from the rain.