I cracked him, I cracked him wide open

I’ve been working for Judd for 7 months now. It seems like I’ve been here forever. It’s become a second home with awesome people and a really laid back atmosphere. I rarely get stressed and I get time off. Yeah, sometimes I have to work even if I’m puking in the bathroom, but whose boss makes them tea to help them feel better?

Ever since I started here there has been a new apartment building under constructio on our street about 3 store fronts down from us. There is a security guard that stands on the sidewalk in front of the entrance to the construction site. Same guy, everyday. He’s there til about the afternoon when another guy comes. The thing is by then there are loads of people to talk to so the afternoon guy is always enjoying himself. But morning security guard just seems bored and sad most mornings.

I started smiling at him about the second month my working path crossed his. He would mostly look down whenever he saw me coming after that. So I stopped smiling after a while. Then I would just stare him down, in a clearly non-confrontational way. Just acknowledging his presence. Smiling started up again during the summer, especially when I would go in super early for shoots. By super I mean 8am…ok not that super.

Last week he started saying good morning! He is initiating the morning smile and hello!

It makes me pretty excited to know that after 7 months of smiling, my sore cheek muscles are finally paying off!

Don’t Hurt Me

What is love, baby?

This morning on my crowded A-train to work I was squashed near a man in his late 40s. He was the classy type wearing sunglasses inside and holding a Dunkin’ Donuts cup, with a short comb-over(which was hurting more than helping. Also, never Google image the phrase comb over, especially shortly after eating).

I barely noticed him (as you can tell) and went back to reading my book. After a short time I began hearing blaring earphone music that is common on the subway. Essentially you’re riding along and someone decides that blowing their ear drums is the only social thing to do. In many cases it’s songs no one else ever wants to hear. I’m sure I have victimized people with Justin or Rhianna and the occasional Amelie.

Anyway, back to sudden musical break on the train. I realize as I’m searching for the origin of the song that it is the classy theme from Night at the Roxbury. And where was it coming from, you ask? None other than classy comb-over man. And don’t worry, he was tapping right along to the beat on his coffee cup.

No more.

Can you keep a secret?

In case you’ve never received a present from me; I give really good presents.

Sometimes inspiration takes on unlikely forms but I generally seem to find treasures.

Exhibit A: I found this etching from an late 1800 early 1900 New York City Newspaper. A full spread about firefighters in Manhattan that I gave to my dad last Christmas.

Exhibit B: Becca’s coming departure resulted in me making her this awesome video.

Exhibit C: This sweet cake plate I got for Christina on ebay.

The biggest problem I have with giving awesome gifts is keeping them a secret for long. I just get so excited about the gift and then the look on the receiver’s face when he/she opens the gift. I just bought the best gift and I am dieing! What will I do?! How can I keep this a secret?