A quarter past 28...

Today is my quarter-birthday! That means I am a quarter-year into 28, and three-quarters of a year away from....29. (don't cry, don't cry, there's no crying on quarter-birthdays) Monumental milestones like today require some reflection and self-evaluation. Here goes.

When I turned 25, I regretted having not accomplished all the things I thought I should have accomplished by that age. This included a) becoming a professional tap dancer, b) writing my first book, and c) appearing on the David Letterman show. Three and a quarter years later, I still haven't accomplished these three things! What exactly have I been doing with myself?

Answer: Working in the student loan industry. Question: But why? Answer: It pays the bills. Solution (stolen from Office Space): Don't go to work and don't pay bills any more.

It is a time-honored tradition (that I just made up) for those celebrating their 28.25 birthdays to lament the passing of time and panic about all they must accomplish in the next nine months before (gulp) the big 2-9. I am really, really good at this tradition.

But lest my lamentations drive me to despair, I must stop and recognize the other significance of March 30th: Fifteen years ago on this date, I was baptized.

My reasons for getting baptized back then were questionable, and it wasn't until 7 or 8 years later that I would come to really know Jesus, and understand how my identification with Him in His death guaranteed me a life eternal. It took awhile to stop rebelling and start recognizing that seed that was planted in me on March 30, 1991. But better late than never.

And now: does the same better-late-than-never philosophy hold true for a professional tap dancing career? Maybe. With God, all things are possible.

In conclusion, March 30th is a day to rejoice that God calls me His own - and not to despair that Letterman has never called me. May I be ever mindful that 28.25 years is nothing compared to eternity. And thanks be to God for abundant and eternal life!

Who are the people in your neighborhood?

I have discovered that there is a slightly crazy man in my building. I have run into him twice now in the lobby. This last time he ignored me for a minute while I fumbled to find my keys and get my mail, then he started a conversation by saying, "And another thing I like to do is go down to talk to the fire safety inspector..."

Our conversations are always one-sided (him) and center around all the things that are wrong/broken in the building, and how you have to take action and people don't know that you can take action, but you can because you have rights. And you can't trust the police, with their lies and alibis (he often breaks out in rhyme), no sir.

I always nod and agree, because I listen to Peter Paul and Mary and am very anti-establishment. Also because I think agreeing is the quickest way to end the conversation and escape this neighborly exchange.

This man has clearly lived in the building for quite awhile, perhaps much to the chagrin of the super and landlord. I wonder what he does most days, when he's not downstairs complaining in front of the mailboxes? Maybe he has standing appointments with various public servants, during which he berates them for their "collections but no corrections."

What a character.

Nueva York Notas

On Critters.
a) Rodents. Well, Rumsfeld violated his top-secret, double probation and showed himself again, thus forcing me to buy some traps. I baited them with tasty, reduced fat Jiff peanut butter (because choosy mouse-trappers choose Jiff!) and I check them eagerly every morning and each time I return to my apartment. So far, nothing. Sigh...

b)Pigeons. My bedroom looks out onto a courtyard. (Technically not really so much a courtyard as a dank airshaft, but whatever) Living in this space are some of the most giant pigeons I have ever seen. When they puff themselves up they are the size of basketballs, and that is only a small exageration.

These pigeons do not make the delicate coo-ing noise one might expect to hear from say, a dove. No, instead they make a hideous loud moaning noise. At first I mistook it as coming from my upstairs neighbor (who also makes a hideous loud moaning noise), but then I realized it was the birds in the airshaft.

Last week 2 pigeons, their motives yet unknown to me, decided to attack each other at 5:45am on the window sill of my bedroom. I woke up and tapped on the window. No response. I couldn't see exactly what was going on, but there were wings flailing everywhere, and occasionally one bird would body-check the other against the glass.

I pounded on the glass a little harder, and pleaded with them to shut up. Still, they refused to cease and desist. I pounded on the glass a lot harder, but they were unphased. I contemplated opening the window a crack to scare them, but that just made me scared. What if they pushed their way into my room? No, no, I would not open the window.

Finally, when it was clear they were not responding to my threats, I got up, got dressed and went for a walk. I came back - the avian war was still being waged. I showered, ate breakfast, and when I left for work, the fight continued. I never did find out who won. I lost a couple hours of sleep, though. Stupid pigeons.