<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-568645093179669753</id><updated>2011-08-24T00:04:08.111-07:00</updated><category term='sleep'/><category term='snuggling up'/><category term='rain'/><category term='stress'/><category term='comedy'/><category term='midterm'/><category term='exams'/><category term='funny story'/><category term='dogs'/><category term='subway'/><category term='college'/><category term='studying'/><category term='russel peters'/><category term='new york life'/><category term='school'/><category term='new york'/><category term='study group'/><category term='fight'/><category term='walking your dog'/><category term='train'/><category term='how to spend a rainy day'/><category term='rainy day'/><title type='text'>New York Interludes</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyinterludes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/568645093179669753/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyinterludes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Diva Davi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100825355373949502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_UGGUL4KDutQ/R9BIg6KDsqI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/T2AHnpu24OU/S220/Davi+Simpsonized.png'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-568645093179669753.post-7124183180287396931</id><published>2008-11-24T19:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T19:33:07.802-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Interlude # 11 - Review of Hiro and Camera Drama Update</title><content type='html'>Hi guys,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently went to a club/lounge called Hiro on 16th Street and 9th Ave in downtown Manhattan. It was a nice change of scenery, a bit dark with it's wood panelling and deep wood tone color scheme, but the bits of Japanese artwork and lighting were a nice effect. I'm not an interior decorator, but the feeling I got was that someone who was clearly not Japanese designed the place. That's alright I guess, as nothing else about the place was overtly Japanese including their drink menu. I don't think I'll be going back there any time soon, unless invited by someone who is holding an event there, largely because of the DJs being a bit off. To be more specific, there were gaps of silence between songs and there were too many songs from the 80s and 90s played. Now, I'm not complaining too much, I'm just saying if it was a house party, I'd understand. Old music kick backs are fun when you're with friends that have known you when you were 15, but I didn't get decked out to hear a whole night of Teen Spirit and Baby Got Back. The best thing I can say about this place was that the drinks were strong. At least I didn't have to shell out a lot of money. Two martinis were enough to get me "nice." Overall, I'd give it a 7 out of 10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The deal with my new Cybershot from SonicCameras.com is as follows: there is no deal. I called customer service again after not hearing from them or receiving anything in the mail for 5 business days. I recorded the conversation so that you know I'm not playing around. They cancelled my order because I didn't order the battery and the charger. Unbelieveable. I guess that'll teach me, right? Well at least I haven't lost all faith. I did some research, and I think G-d heard me because I was looking on eBay, and it turns out that they sent me a 10% off coupon. I found a great price on the Cybershot with free shipping and with the coupon saved $34. YAY!!!&lt;br /&gt;Feedback was awesome for my seller and I bought the camera. I just received it today, and am so happy. Thank you for small miracles... I got it just in time for the holidays :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ecstatically,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Davi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/568645093179669753-7124183180287396931?l=nyinterludes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyinterludes.blogspot.com/feeds/7124183180287396931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=568645093179669753&amp;postID=7124183180287396931' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/568645093179669753/posts/default/7124183180287396931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/568645093179669753/posts/default/7124183180287396931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyinterludes.blogspot.com/2008/11/interlude-11-review-of-hiro-and-camera.html' title='Interlude # 11 - Review of Hiro and Camera Drama Update'/><author><name>Diva Davi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100825355373949502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_UGGUL4KDutQ/R9BIg6KDsqI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/T2AHnpu24OU/S220/Davi+Simpsonized.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-568645093179669753.post-8639683775789381918</id><published>2008-11-11T18:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T11:38:55.011-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='studying'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='midterm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='exams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stress'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='russel peters'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='comedy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='study group'/><title type='text'>Interlude # 9 - College Euphoria</title><content type='html'>Hi all,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was speaking to my cousin today. She graduated high school a year early and this is her first semester in college. Since Thanksgiving is in a few weeks I reminded her midterms were around the corner. She said that she'd already taken a few. I remarked that there is such a difference in the atmosphere around colleges during midterm and finals week. And it's not just in the library and study rooms. It's the whole school. There is a hush that can't be broken easily, and if it is, people give you the “evil eye” until the stoic mood is regained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her normal people become truly weird during this time. They say things like "I can't talk" even though they're eating lunch alone and staring into space. Other common midterm and finals week phrases are "we have got to study because Professor X doesn't give extra credit" or "do you have a group" or "I didn't sleep until 3am last night trying to finish Professor X’s paper." Now that I'm reminiscing of my college days, I recall how stingy I'd be with my notes. In most classes, I was an avid note taker and since I took many science and math classes I was more sought out at finals week than pictures of TomKat's baby. People who I’d last seen on the first day of class came out of the wood works to ask me for my notes. It was one of my pet peeves at the time, that people had the audacity to miss 15 classes and then ask for the notes so they could photocopy them. I think it's funny now though - who knew I could morph into manical note hoarder? But the best thing is that when I declared English as my major I didn't have to take too many notes because the best way to take notes for my major is to write all over the literature being studied and for a majority of exams for English classes, if you have a textbook, the professors let you use it. Not all of them, but a lot of professors allow you this small kindness - I think it's because they don't want you to butcher their favorite quotes. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, the worst thing about college for new students is the stress level. Stress is so high for freshmen at this time of year that the suicide rate (for all students but freshmen in particular) actually rises. I remember at my Alma Mater the roof top cafeteria and other balconies were closed during midterm and finals week because a few years prior to my going there and at a few other (and might I add Ivy League) schools more recently, people jumped from at least eight stories up at their universities because they were stressed out, or had failed tests. These may have just been unfounded rumors but the closed off balconies were real enough. I’ve never felt that pressured in school, and I can't imagine what that must feel like in that situation, but people, killing yourself isn't the answer. You're in college to better yourself, not to let it get the better of you. And remember, college is only for a few years. You have a whole lifetime afterwards to look forward to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many new experiences in college - I don't think there is another time in your life that you network so well and are exposed to so many new things - things you'll find out you love and things you won't like. I remember being exposed to workshop classes for the first time. I absolutely hated them in the beginning. I was always one of those people that hated group work because I always ended up being the one doing the bulk of the work and other people's work not meeting my standards. It's not that I'm a control freak, but random group assignments make it a high likelihood that you'll be placed with someone who is taking the class because they have to and not because they want to. It wasn’t until I took workshop classes that they turned out to be my favorite. You get real feedback from 90% of people who have a similar passion for what you're writing and even the other 10% is still helpful because you can learn what is distasteful about your work from people who don't like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is true in all majors, even science and math classes which usually have one correct answer. People break down formulas and solve equations in different ways. Having someone break down PV=nRT (The Ideal Gas Law) and explain it's relevance to Boyle and and Henry's Laws using a hot air balloon - is a mind blowing experience when you fully understand the implications. Comprehending iambic pentameter after someone has used colloquial language to explain it is equally amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to all those new freshmen out there who are struggling I have two things to say to you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Stay in school, the information you learn is worth ten times whatever your tuition costs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Remember to temper your workload with your fun intake. Keeping even a few minutes in between study sessions helps. I heard that when studying you tend to remember the beginning of the study session and the end of the study session. So taking frequent breaks say a 5-10 minute break every 45-60 minutes is ideal for your memory capacity. It worked for me. It's also a great tension reliever when you're study a very heavy topic like Marxism or say.... trying to prove your thesis in Chemistry :D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoping Thanksgiving comes quickly so you college folks can get a break-edly,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Davi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/568645093179669753-8639683775789381918?l=nyinterludes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyinterludes.blogspot.com/feeds/8639683775789381918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=568645093179669753&amp;postID=8639683775789381918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/568645093179669753/posts/default/8639683775789381918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/568645093179669753/posts/default/8639683775789381918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyinterludes.blogspot.com/2008/11/interlude-9-russel-peters-and-college.html' title='Interlude # 9 - College Euphoria'/><author><name>Diva Davi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100825355373949502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_UGGUL4KDutQ/R9BIg6KDsqI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/T2AHnpu24OU/S220/Davi+Simpsonized.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-568645093179669753.post-4332747428865323364</id><published>2008-10-28T23:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T00:10:47.899-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Interlude # 7 - Happy Diwali</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UGGUL4KDutQ/SQgMOF-XYyI/AAAAAAAAAAk/ne4ItTgSMXY/s1600-h/Lakshmi+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262469600843883298" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 245px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UGGUL4KDutQ/SQgMOF-XYyI/AAAAAAAAAAk/ne4ItTgSMXY/s320/Lakshmi+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Happy Diwali friends,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It is with full heart and glowing soul that I greet you tonight. I am basking in the peace that faith affords me this night, whether the goddess visits my home or not. Truthfully, I hope she will come, whilst we slumber, prayers of reverence and hopes for guidance upon our soft lips, in the hush that falls with dusk. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tonight is the festivals of lights, when all over the world Hindus light &lt;em&gt;dias&lt;/em&gt; and pray for the Goddess Lakshmi will come to our house and bless us, bringing her light of wisdom, healing and love. We pray for those who have gone in darkness before us, like our Ram, king of kings, Vishnu and Krishna incarnate. We ask the Goddess to lift illness and despair from our lives as only a mother's love can.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tonight there is nothing to write about except the tenderness with which she will cradle us, a succor to our tears, the endless mother whom we children reach out for when we fall. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have lit the incense but my soul is aflame with scented wonder. My skin prickles as my senses realize there is more than can be seen in the room. I can feel the tension, the love, the energy and it is a blessing that I should share these moments another year with my mother sitting beside me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I must say, for those who have faith and can sit and pray, even but for a few moments, it is a feeling that is always welcomed. To feel so full and aware - to mentally breathe in the essence of something larger than you and be humbled and feel utterly beloved is a gift I pray each of you experiences many, many times in your lifetime.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Inspir-edly,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Davi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/568645093179669753-4332747428865323364?l=nyinterludes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyinterludes.blogspot.com/feeds/4332747428865323364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=568645093179669753&amp;postID=4332747428865323364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/568645093179669753/posts/default/4332747428865323364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/568645093179669753/posts/default/4332747428865323364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyinterludes.blogspot.com/2008/10/interlude-7-happy-diwali.html' title='Interlude # 7 - Happy Diwali'/><author><name>Diva Davi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100825355373949502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_UGGUL4KDutQ/R9BIg6KDsqI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/T2AHnpu24OU/S220/Davi+Simpsonized.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UGGUL4KDutQ/SQgMOF-XYyI/AAAAAAAAAAk/ne4ItTgSMXY/s72-c/Lakshmi+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-568645093179669753.post-2961209530240921602</id><published>2008-10-02T17:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T15:30:55.782-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Interlude # 6 - Hallo-whoareyougonnabe?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hi readers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the best things at this time of year is Halloween. Those who enjoy dressing up - be it their kids or themselves - this is the perfect time to go shopping for outfits we can't wear any other day of the year. The only issue I have is with all the "costumes" available to teenage girls that scream "hooker" or "cheap and easy." It's a time to dress up, not necessarily dress less. In New York City, Halloween has become a reason for girls to look like they are legal to work in the adult film industry. It's a shame really. For those who take part in the &lt;em&gt;costume only&lt;/em&gt; aspect of the day, it's supposed to be about wearing something that makes you feel like someone or something else for a night. To be able to express what you think is fun and interesting and earning some chocolate or candy in exchange for your time and effort spent on applying make-up. How this translated in 90% of the costumes being mid-drift baring, three inch length skirts and thigh high boots, I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who hold this as a spiritual or religious holiday, All Hallows Eve, it must be a great travesty to see so many dressing people dressing up to get some candy, but it's become a division between American culture and religious belief. It's not something that was done to insult religous worhippers, it's how time evolved and compartmentalized one day into religion and culture. I liken it rather to the Easter Bunny on Easter. Explain that one folks. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, all I'm hearing is "who are you gonna be?" Since I'm 25 and this might be the last year I really do Halloween, I want to go all out. I went shopping and it's come down to an Angel (which is my fav because it has wings), a female Robin Hood outfit, forest nymph, or the ever popular pirate wench.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend and I were going to go together as Peanut Butter and Jelly, but the hilarity of this would be hard to explain at the party we'll be attending... especially if we get separated. How do you explain a poo colored outfit without receiving a disbelieving look from the person who asked you what you came as? Picture it - "I simply can't find my jam." Indeed. But you sure are in one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, I'm favoring the Robin Hood outfit because I'm simply smashing in its shade of green, especially with my caramel complexion (I'm not making that up, Maybelline has designated me caramel according to their foundation, haha). The pirate wench look might be nice as well. I need to see how much all the accessories cost, what with the sword, hat, boots, and makeup not being included in the set it makes me wonder how they can sell the dress and still call it a "pirate costume." I'll make my decision in the next couple of days and let you all know how it turns out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you going to be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still undecided,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Davi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/568645093179669753-2961209530240921602?l=nyinterludes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyinterludes.blogspot.com/feeds/2961209530240921602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=568645093179669753&amp;postID=2961209530240921602' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/568645093179669753/posts/default/2961209530240921602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/568645093179669753/posts/default/2961209530240921602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyinterludes.blogspot.com/2008/10/interlude-6-hallo-whoareyougonnabe.html' title='Interlude # 6 - Hallo-whoareyougonnabe?'/><author><name>Diva Davi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100825355373949502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_UGGUL4KDutQ/R9BIg6KDsqI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/T2AHnpu24OU/S220/Davi+Simpsonized.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-568645093179669753.post-3419117370738351117</id><published>2008-10-02T16:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T17:34:24.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Interlude # 5 - Autumn in New York</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So readers,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's that time of year again - autumn. The trees are starting to don their most brilliant colors, preparing their last brilliant display before their souls are bared during the winter. I saw the first red leaf on an all green tree today and I felt a special sense of wonderful at knowing that I am very likely the first person to notice it amidst the hustle and bustle of life, and to acknowledge how beautiful it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;October 2nd. Could there be a day more wonderful than today? No doubt you'd say I'm wearing rose colored glasses. But in truth, all the summer roses have already died - and there &lt;em&gt;have&lt;/em&gt; been some really dreary days. Just yesterday there was a silence in the air that not even the wildlife broke. It's one of those things where you know something is amiss, but you can't quite put your finger on it until someone else does. My mother was the one who said something about it feeling like a Sunday, and that it was strange that a Wednesday was so calm at 2pm in the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, it would take more than a few chills and strangely quiet day to shake my internal happiness at this time of year. I am anticipating the crinkle of leaves and twigs being crushed underfoot, the soft "shush" and "whooooorl" noises of gathered piles of crispy red orange leaves when the wind blows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the best fashion season in my opinion as well. Living in New York affords me the opportunity to see in mid summer what the styles will be for fall, but I truly love the layered look women have at this time of year. I love those long duster scarves and knee high boots with skirts. And all the warm tones that people start to wear at this time of year - everyone looks good in golds and browns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earth toned ecstatic,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Davi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/568645093179669753-3419117370738351117?l=nyinterludes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyinterludes.blogspot.com/feeds/3419117370738351117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=568645093179669753&amp;postID=3419117370738351117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/568645093179669753/posts/default/3419117370738351117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/568645093179669753/posts/default/3419117370738351117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyinterludes.blogspot.com/2008/10/interlude-5-autumn-in-new-york.html' title='Interlude # 5 - Autumn in New York'/><author><name>Diva Davi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100825355373949502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_UGGUL4KDutQ/R9BIg6KDsqI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/T2AHnpu24OU/S220/Davi+Simpsonized.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-568645093179669753.post-7591601956754471294</id><published>2008-03-10T07:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T08:01:51.854-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rainy day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleep'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snuggling up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new york life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='how to spend a rainy day'/><title type='text'>Interlude #3 - The Weekend Slosh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;If you were in New York this weekend, you knew it was a waste of time to do anything other than finding a good book, good movie, and good Cup O' J&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;oe&lt;/span&gt; and settling into your quiet space. Even Sunday, which turned out to be okay was a day to spend inside because of the tone Friday and Saturday had set. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Saturday, I had three classes, so venturing out into the torrential rain and heavy winds was not an option, it was necessity. I wore my heaviest blue jeans skirt and a nice blue lace blouse and made a run for the car. In the time it took me to walk from the garage to my car, place a bag into the trunk and then jump into the drivers seat - a grand total of 15 yards - I was drenched. Granted, I didn't use an umbrella. I am a firm believer in calling a spade a spade, and using an umbrella for 4 seconds is completely useless, especially when entering/exiting a car is concerned. You get more wet trying to maneuver an umbrella around the door of the car than making a dash for it and hoping to stay dry. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I was doomed either way. Luckily, only my head and neck got wet, thanks to a combination of things (my trench coat, my thick blue jeans skirt and an inclined driveway (no puddles). But joy of joys, we all know what happens when our head and neck gets wet. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I was sniffling all through my first class, but thankfully, I had a dose of cold tablets in my bag. By the time my last class was over, unlike the rain, my sneezing had eased up. I came home, changed into sweats and grabbed my parrot, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Soma&lt;/span&gt;, and covered up under a blanket in the den. We both slept for three hours, cheek to cheek, before I realized I was supposed to be at a friends house for a girl's night out. I put &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Soma&lt;/span&gt; in her cage, who for once did not become a ball of shrieking terror because she was too drowsy to complain) and called up my friend telling her plainly that I fell asleep. In true best friend fashion, she said to come over anyway, that I could sleep there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;That's exactly what I did. I lasted a total of two hours before knocking out on her bed until the next morning. I left pretty early, if you consider 10:30 early on a Sunday and for about two hours at home took care of whatever needed attending. I took &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Soma&lt;/span&gt; again from her cage and rough-housed with her for 20 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt; but we were both yawning, so I grabbed a blanket and put her underneath, and we both napped again, this time for about four hours. Did I mention that she snores? Must be because she's only 11 months old. Who knows? It's just one of those surprises you only discover when you're spending the weekend being an absolute bum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Snuggled up under a blanket-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;edly&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Davi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/568645093179669753-7591601956754471294?l=nyinterludes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyinterludes.blogspot.com/feeds/7591601956754471294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=568645093179669753&amp;postID=7591601956754471294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/568645093179669753/posts/default/7591601956754471294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/568645093179669753/posts/default/7591601956754471294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyinterludes.blogspot.com/2008/03/interlude-3-weekend-slosh.html' title='Interlude #3 - The Weekend Slosh'/><author><name>Diva Davi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100825355373949502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_UGGUL4KDutQ/R9BIg6KDsqI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/T2AHnpu24OU/S220/Davi+Simpsonized.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-568645093179669753.post-7479453633283842342</id><published>2008-03-07T10:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T20:45:42.499-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new york life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dogs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new york'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking your dog'/><title type='text'>Interlude #2 - For the Dogs?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://openphoto.net/volumes/dangogh/20050105/opl_choclabpup1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://openphoto.net/volumes/dangogh/20050105/opl_choclabpup1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Greetings readers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my first blog, and I hope you enjoy it. It's definitely a step up from "The Bitch Sessions" which are a series of sarcastic stories that are based on real life events. This blog is geared more for the average reader, without as much obscenity, but with enough gusto to make you wince on occasion or snicker in your cubicle about the subject being discussed. I'll start off with a light subject...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was walking the three blocks from the subway to work today, late again because of train delays, (which the MTA has, increased the fare for recently), and I saw a woman in a jogging suit running in place while her doing was doing his business near a tree with a grate around the base. I thought to myself how embarrassing it must be for the dog, who was clearly looking around at people with the "poo" face we've all seen someone have. It struck me as funny because I realized people and dogs make the same face in that situation, but then I was momentarily saddened because not only did he have a look of total vulnerability, but his owner was clearly miffed at having to jog in place while her dog "made."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought to myself that dogs in New York City have it tough. In a national comparison, they're subjected to being "walked" what - two, three times a day, whereas dogs in a rural setting have more freedom. Now, it's not that they're &lt;em&gt;just&lt;/em&gt; dogs - and are comfortable "going" in public, but that we humans still feel uncomfortable looking, yet for some inexplicable reason can't tear our eyes away from the scene. I wonder if there's some poor dog out there who has performance anxiety and can't &lt;em&gt;go&lt;/em&gt; because he's being stared at. In any case, you don't hear about it in the &lt;em&gt;Onion&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. I guess in the end the dogs are the last ones laughing because in New York, you have to curb your dog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Averting my eyes-edly,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Davi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/568645093179669753-7479453633283842342?l=nyinterludes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyinterludes.blogspot.com/feeds/7479453633283842342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=568645093179669753&amp;postID=7479453633283842342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/568645093179669753/posts/default/7479453633283842342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/568645093179669753/posts/default/7479453633283842342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyinterludes.blogspot.com/2008/03/interlude-1-for-dogs.html' title='Interlude #2 - For the Dogs?'/><author><name>Diva Davi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100825355373949502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_UGGUL4KDutQ/R9BIg6KDsqI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/T2AHnpu24OU/S220/Davi+Simpsonized.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-568645093179669753.post-7608926788433331929</id><published>2008-03-06T13:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T20:45:56.175-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fight'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='train'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new york life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new york'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='subway'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny story'/><title type='text'>Interlude #1 - Subway Drama #1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Did you know that in New York, people can be NYU Graduates and still not figure out that six inches of space between two people seated in a three seat bench on the A train will not accommodate a 300lb man? Now, it's not that I won't move or give up my seat for someone else, it's the fact that it's always the fattest person in the car that makes a bee line for the seat next to me. It's simple physics folks, I mean, you wouldn't try to fit 30ML of water into a 20ml container, so why do you insist on forcing your way into a seat David Blaine couldn't magic himself into? Sometimes I think these people actually believe that it will be a comfortable trip if they wiggle their way into the seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once, at 42nd Street a lady boarded a semi crowded train car. She forced her way into the seat between myself and another passenger. She wiggled back and I moved over as much as I could to accommodate her. She actually asked me if I could move over a little when it was clear that I couldn't anymore. I told her no I really couldn't and she started talking loudly to herself that people are inconsiderate and there was space and that "some" people are just nasty. Normally, I believe in the philosophy "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" but since she was making a point of being obnoxious I opened my mouth just as loudly for everyone to hear and said "I don't understand why &lt;em&gt;people&lt;/em&gt; try to squeeze their way into spaces too small for them. I try to move over, but to &lt;em&gt;some&lt;/em&gt; people it's not enough. Maybe &lt;em&gt;some&lt;/em&gt; people should lose some weight and it wouldn't be a problem for them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman looked ready to slap me, but instead said "You're not so thin yourself" (which folks, I &lt;em&gt;know &lt;/em&gt;I'm not skinny by any means) and three people in the train chuckled. I smiled at her, which was really more of a grimace, but responded sweetly "I know I'm not Heidi Klum, but I don't try to fit a round ass in square seat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took a second, but the other passengers got the meaning and more people laughed. In the game of social politics, I won. Sad that I had to take it to that level, but sometimes (particularly after a long day), you have to fight the bully. The lady huffed for a few seconds but didn't say anything else. She gathered her two bags and exited the train a couple of stops later. Passengers who were still on the train from the onset of the drama looked at me as I shook my head. She had made all that fuss for a seat when she was only travelling a grand total of three stops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I closed my eyes tried to forget the whole incident when something my mother had told me years ago came to mind "You can't argue with crazy." I guess not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drained out-edly,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Davi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/568645093179669753-7608926788433331929?l=nyinterludes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyinterludes.blogspot.com/feeds/7608926788433331929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=568645093179669753&amp;postID=7608926788433331929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/568645093179669753/posts/default/7608926788433331929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/568645093179669753/posts/default/7608926788433331929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyinterludes.blogspot.com/2008/03/interlude-2-subway-drama-1.html' title='Interlude #1 - Subway Drama #1'/><author><name>Diva Davi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100825355373949502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_UGGUL4KDutQ/R9BIg6KDsqI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/T2AHnpu24OU/S220/Davi+Simpsonized.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
