Nice People...

For the most part, I believe people are good and nice. But after spending a year in NY, I've gotten a little more cynical. Not for any particular reason, mostly because everyone around me is. And maybe I've watched one too many CSI:NY episodes. So I tend to keep to myself when on the street, or the subway - like most New Yorkers.

But I still believe people are nice, and once in a while they prove you right.

I was pulling out of a parking spot the other day in front of the house, and this little SUV had blocked me with about 2 inches between bumpers - on our hill. So as I tried to get out with my manual transmission, I rolled forward, tapped the bumper, and as the gas caught and I began to reverse, my front license plate got caught on the SUV bumper and was pulled out. Of course, I didn't notice this since I was in the driver seat. Driving around the Island, a nice gentleman rolled his window down to let me know. When I finally parked again, I tried to fix it but the lovely proprietary "screws" were not working. So I pulled a roll of gaff tape out and taped it on, figuring I'd either bring it in to be fixed, or have J take a look later.

Now here's where the really nice part comes in. I drove to work on Thursday so I could head down to a Food & Ethics Conference and when I pulled into the parking deck at my office, the very nice attendant (who I've only seen a handful of times) told me the plate was falling off. I laughed and said "that's why I carry a roll of tape". Well, when I picked up my car a few hours later, he had fixed my plate for me. Needless to say, he got a nice tip that day! Kindness of strangers.

So Where Have I Been....

Let's see, life kinda kicks you in the ass once in a while. And October was one of those months. The start of October held 18 hour work days leading up to our annual Gala (which went well - the worst part of the evening being my car not starting at the end and having to have cute boys jump start it), followed by finding out that my darling J was coming home from the tour early! A whirlwind week of having my baby back to do dishes, only prolonged my inevitable "I just had a major event, and now my body's going to collapse with whatever sickness is floating around" about 5 days, just in time for me to be sick for the whole week prior to Italy, in which I had my first experience of having to let someone go on staff. So after finally making it to a doctor, who informed me that I indeed was sick and needed lovely medicine, I was healthy enough to do a little bit of apple/pumpkin picking with the littlest maksimow and her-chicks:

I then packed up my suitcases and got on a 12 hour flight across the ocean to Italy where I had a whole 12 hours of healthiness before the 36 hours of almost no sleep and working like a dog led me to illness number 2. So yes, I spent my 6 of my 8 days in Italy with no tastebuds, congestion like the Holland Tunnel at rush hour, and bearing a plague that would fell even the mightiest of oaks. But I did get to stay in the olympic village:

So I finally was feeling like myself, just in time for another 22 hours of travel to come home. And now it's November, my cold is almost nonexistant and life should calm down.

whoo, I'm tired.