Tag Archives: New York City

An arm and a leg

I just spent three days at the Billie Jean King Tennis Center, my 10th consecutive year among the sport’s best and brightest at the US Open.

Although I’m tired from the trip, I returned home with all my limbs intact. 

Unfortunately, many of the top players in the men’s draw can’t say the same thing. 

In all my years faithfully watching professional tennis,  I have never seen so many walkovers and retirements. And the fact that they predominate in the men’s tour makes me question the best-of-five format.

The ladies play best-of-three in all tournaments,  whereas the men play best-of-five in all majors and many masters classics. The sport continues to become more physically demanding, and over the course of the year, these long matches can really takes their toll.

I love watching tennis; I hate watching men in tears as they are forced to withdraw due to injury.

The USTA pays men and women equally as they should — why not require them to play the same amount of tennis?

Who knows…it might lengthen some tennis careers and will definitely make the current tournaments more competitive. 

Just one fan’s point of view…

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The key to happiness 

I handed over the keys for my New York City apartment to my broker on Thursday and flew off to Chicago.

My new place won’t be ‘mine’ until Tuesday, so until then, business trips — and generous cousins in a nearby burb — are providing shelter.

I’m used to living out of a suitcase,  so this vagabond period doesn’t really bother me. But it is somewhat disconcerting to not have keys to anything.

We spend so much time looking for our keys, carrying them, losing them, finding them…and now, I got nuthin.

My cousins, on the other hand….

They’re just showing off.

Thank you note

I began plotting my move to Manhattan at the tender age of eight at the dining room table in our tiny farm community in Kentucky.  

It took me a few years, and I made some stops along the way, but I made it. And I’ve a spent the past decade here in the Big Apple.

Thank you, New York City,  for being everything that little girl dreamed of and so much more.

Tomorrow I begin a new adventure  in Chicago. I feel like a kid again, and just as excited!

For your own safety

After nearly a decade living in the Big Apple, I think this could work.

It’s like the autobahn — the two lanes would simply have different speed limits.

And no standing and staring ‘up’ allowed in the New Yorkers lane, either.

#ihearttourists #willbeoneagainsoon

Patriotic packing 

The Egg is moving from Manhattan to Chicago at the end of July, and today, even my supplies are feeling the occasion!

#Happy4thofJuly #USA

Numbers game

I’m wearing a wearable for the first time today.

fitbit

I received my FitBit Charge earlier this week at a work event in Denver. I don’t know that I would have bought one, but I am excited to have the opportunity to try one out for free.

I was curious to see how many steps a New Yorker like myself — who walks everywhere on a normal day — would put in without going for an extra walk or run.

Today I was working at my office, which requires a walk back-and-forth to the subway, and a lot of desk work.

Looks like I should hit around 7,500 steps by bedtime.  Not too shabby.

Let’s see what a weekend of running errands and goofing off in the neighborhood nets me. I think I can crush that 10,000 step goal.

 

 

Public displays of…

I had just taken my seat on the subway this morning when I heard someone crying.

It was a woman across the aisle from me. And she wasn’t trying to hold it in or hide her tears — she was loudly weeping and sobbing.

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Since I had just boarded,  I looked around at my fellow passengers,  trying to get a read on what if anything had been done. At that moment,  a man said,  “Are you okay,  miss?  Do you need help?”

She said no and immediately quieted. Everyone looked relieved.

I know I was.

Not two minutes went by and she began wailing again,  even louder this time. Looks were exchanged.

I finally reached in my briefcase and handed her a tissue. She didn’t say thank you,  but she calmed down until her stop.

I will admit – –  I have cried on the subway before,  but in a much more stealth fashion. Or at least I hope so,  for the passengers’ sake.