No Sleep 'Til ...

The Beastie Boys' "No Sleep 'Til Brooklyn" recently got me thinking about my prior life in the NYC area. Strangely, my 2 years in Hoboken, NJ, was what came to mind, versus my 4 years actually in Brooklyn. Hoboken wasn't too bad -- it is a fairly safe, cute town with lots of restaurants and bars and an easy commute to Manhattan. But nothing could erase the reality of its location in the Garden State.

I used to go visit my aunt's family on Long Island pretty regularly, and when I lived in Hoboken, she would often introduce me as "my niece from New Jersey." It pained me deeply when she would say this, and I actually asked her to please stop telling people I was "from New Jersey."

After I moved to Brooklyn (Borough of Kings), I cast aside all ties to New Jersey faster than you can say "What exit?" It was as if I'd never lived there. Wiped from my personal history. Meanwhile, my colleague Tim had just moved to Jersey City -- the nice part. At the time, the nice part was only a couple of blocks long. Tim was telling us one day about his weekend plans, which included a bachelor party, and, much to his chagrin, a ride on "The Beast," a giant, loud, garish motorboat for tourists with shark teeth painted on the front (photo at right). Jason remarked, "Tim, if you die on that boat, your obituary is going to say you died on The Beast." And, giddy with opportunity, I immediately followed up, "AND it will say you're from New Jersey!"

Truthfully, Jersey wasn't really that bad. I just didn't love Hoboken enough to stand up against the stereotypes. Hoboken doesn't have much character -- the birthplace of baseball has long since been overrun with young college graduates hitting the bar scene. Brooklyn, on the other hand, has a soul.

Two Plates and a Story

The other day I saw a Mini Cooper with the following license plate. Not sure if he was referring ironically to the car, or maybe to something more personal.

B1GPKG

Then I saw one that might belong to a urologist:

P SOLACE

The P license plate reminded me of a story told by my friend Deb. Right after college, she moved to NYC without a full-time job and started doing some temp work. For several months she temped in the urology department of a big NYC hospital. One of her duties was inputting the answers from a patient questionnaire into the computer system. And one of the questions on the questionnaire went something like this:

When I urinate, I feel:
A. Intense pain
B. Discomfort
C. Nothing unusual
D. Delighted

To this day I remember her waves of giggles as she relayed the "delighted" option.

It was not until I had had a UTI of my own and had recovered from it that I understood how truly delightful it is to pee with the absence of pain.

Why Is It That...

...people who announce their pregnancies to the world (via email spam to distant acquaintances to whom they haven't spoken in months and months) when the pee is barely dry on the HPT stick *rarely* seem to have to follow up with a sad announcement? None of the early public announcers I have known have had any kind of adversity in the following weeks.

One-third of confirmed pregnancies end in losses, but it seems to me that the one-third must sit disproportionately with certain people.

I guess some of us are just freaking lucky.