Horse head

Yesterday I saw a man walking up 5th Avenue with a giant bronze horse head.  Just casually strolling along.  No one even gave him a second look.

In New York, it seems you can literally get away with any kind of non-violent behavior or dress-code, and the local passers by will not even notice.  I actually spent time trying to think of objects that would attract attention if carried on the street, but aside from livestock, I came up short.

Even a camel walking on the street isn't unheard of.  The camels used in the Rockette's Christmas Show are walked every morning at 6am around Rockefeller Center.  That actually happens.  But in NYC? No biggee.

 

Zombie chase.

I’ve been watching a lot of crime dramas lately.  Really dark, life is ending kind of tv. Considering I don’t read books if a character I like is killed off and I never intentionally see movies that I expect will make me cry, I don’t know why I like these shows, but I can’t get enough.

However, I think my subconscious can.  And has.

I woke up the other morning convinced I needed to prep for a zombie apocalypse. I looked down at my tiny dog – who was snuggled in next to me, and I thought “if the zombies were after me and I was starving, could I kill and eat you to survive?”

Sadly, I’m 98% sure that the answer would be no.

I mean, if the world ends as some of these shows say it will, we are all fucked. 

I am confident in my ability to survive. I’m smart, savvy, fit and a creative thinker. I was the outdoor living skills specialist for three summers in a row.  I can build fire, sleep anywhere and travel light.  I know first-aid, some edible plants and once intentionally went 16 days without a shower.  I could survive without power or technology.

However, my little dog cannot.  She would be my kryptonite.   

Because of the damage to her heart caused by heartworms she got while living on the streets, she doesn’t move very fast. In fact, she might be the slowest four-legged dog I will ever meet. 

Because of her life as a stray, she is terrified of everything.  Lately, that fear manifests itself in barking. Loud quick louder than her size should allow barking.  I appreciate those barks, mostly because when we’re home alone she is quiet as a mouse.  I love that no man will ever enter my apartment unannounced, and no one will ever creep up on me in the street.  But, in a “stay quiet and hidden or you’ll die” scenario – we’d be screwed. 

Also she is hungry all the time.  Like a toddler, she gets very weird and grumpy when it’s time to eat, and there’d be no promise of food in the World After….

My take away from that morning’s musings are two-fold.  One, I need to watch less tv. And two, I need to get a back-pack to carry her in so we can escape on foot.  Zombies be damned, I'm saving my dog.

Names

I went out with a guy last night, whose name was WizzRan.  On his profile he seemed hip and fun and handsome.  We met at this shee-shee bar uptown, where the cocktails are $18 each.

I knew immediately that he and I were not going to work out.  However, I settled in with my  watermelon flavored distilled-milk liquor (super gross btw - but if you're going to charge $18 for a drink then I'm gonna order the most ridiculous one available) and proceeded to get to try to get to know my date.

Curious about his name, I asked him what his parents names were.  Seemingly aghast, his reply was "well, that's a personal question..."

Is it?  To me, that question is totally game and very middle of the road.
"What's the worst thing you've ever done?"
"Tell me about your hopes and dreams."
" How did you lose your virginity?"

Those are personal questions.

However, undeterred I explained to him that having one of the most generic names of all time, I'm always interested in names that are even a little bit different.  That seemed to placate him a little.  He agreed about the boring-ness of my name and said "yeah - well at least your name isn't Jane."

Ha ha. Good one.

My middle name is Jane.

I drank my drink as quickly as possible without vomiting and hopped in a cab to go home.  We will not be seeing each other a second time.