quinnkdotme

A.k.a. street musicians…

Being in a city that, according to locals, has the best of everything… you might think that is the case with buskers.  Evidently, not so.

Yesterday, as I transferred from the 3 train to the M train, I had to walk what felt like a mile through a tunnel to the other train.  And as I headed into this tunnel, I heard a man with a guitar… and it sounded bad.  The rhythm was off, but most apparent was his complete tone deafness.

He had positioned himself smack in the middle of the tunnel making it possible to aurally assault commuters on both ends of the tunnel.  He was strumming away with idyllic rapture.  I was struck by the complete lack of tune, melody, you name it.

At first I thought it might be something from the Beatles – Rubber Soul album.  Then as I recognized none of the words… except that they were probably English… I realized this was  his own concoction.  It seemed like if he kept with a melody or at least the same chord as his guitar that things might have improved drastically.  But, I realized that even the guitar was off switching from note to note and essentially key to key with gusto but zero finesse.  He wasn’t dressed like a crazy person – he seemed like a cool cat… but he was blithely oblivious to the pain he was causing me and everyone around me.

I bring him up not as the exception but seemingly the rule for subway performers.  There have been the exceptions… a guy at Grand Central who plays upturned buckets like they were true bongos.  Actually there was a dynamic duo of bongo players on my 3 train once who were so good, I did give them money.  They were awesome, in fact.  There is also, at Times Square station on one of the levels a guy who wears a paper crown while he plays the blues.  He is soulful and his music has stopped people in their tracks.  All of these examples are the exceptions.

Usually, it’s the guy singing La Bamba with a karaoke machine who not only doesn’t know the words but he keeps playing the same song over and over again.  Or, it’s the kid on the S train – a frustratingly tedious ride also known as the 42nd St. shuffle which takes passengers from Times Square to Grand Central running under 42nd St. – playing two buckets with drum sticks so loudly and badly that most passengers plug their ears and glare at him.  There’s also the reggae player who apathetically tries to emulate Bob Marley, but he never succeeds.

This collection of less than mediocre is what accompanies me through the underbelly of New York, frequently and gratingly.  I long for the virtuoso… and every once in a while I find it.  The cello player who periodically hides out on the platform as I wait for the train to take me to Brooklyn.  I’m a sucker for the cello, and his playing is both smooth and deeply delicious.  He doesn’t appear to have a regular time, and yet neither do I.  But when the planets align, musically speaking, the four minutes I wait for the train are stirring and calming all at once.  For a brief few minutes I am transported,

As ever,

K. Quinn

It’s one of those weekends….

I plan to move next Wednesday – and only because my parents are being stellar and helping me out.  It’s a boring story, but the bottom line is that I don’t want to pay extra to move in early.  So Mom and I are moving me in before I leave for work, and then Mom is helping clean and tidy.  Thanks, Mom!

So I have been making lists…

cleaning supplies

apartment needs

things to order….electricity, gas, etc.

things needed for second move day… rent a van, etc.

bills that need address change

my budget

I am now faced with a flurry of post-it notes that come in two varieties… the standard square 2″x 2″ yellow and a green one that says, “If life gives you olives…make martinis!”  And, a martini has sounded like heaven for quite a bit of time now.

I also have some random pink slips of paper that are taped along my window sill.

Thanks to a phenomenally expensive apartment search, my ability to pay to move my furniture from California has been briefly postponed.  So, once again, parents to the rescue.   How old am I?  Well, I will be pilfering my parents’ garage for assorted furniture so that I am not living in a 1 bedroom apartment with only an inflatable mattress and a wine crate full of books.  Romantic as that might sound.  Frankly, that sounds more squatter-esque.

On the bright side, I just received encouraging word that my property may be rented long-term, which means I can afford to move my furniture, and frankly my apartment too.  So let’s have a collective finger crossing on that one, shall we?

Off to escape lists for the next few hours with a run and my weekly NY Times, coffee, and almond croissant.  Lists are for after 11AM.

As ever,

K. Quinn

It’s a Friday, hurrah!  And, I am wrapping up a week that began in the wee hours headed to Boston.  Three days of work retreat, a discombobulated Thursday, and now Friday.

This morning, I reflected on yet another change from my life in LA.  Life in LA always involved my car. Driving 20-40 minutes to work, depending on traffic.  Spending anywhere from 2-10 minutes searching for parking.  The inevitable weekly stop to fill up the car with gas, another 5-10 minutes.  You get the picture.

While in New York, today, I woke up, showered and dressed for work, and then walked half a block to have a breakfast special at the corner diner.  I am now back at the apartment to brush teeth and head to work, and I still have 25 minutes to spare.  I didn’t need to wake up any earlier, in fact I slept in an extra half hour.  I enjoyed reading the paper over breakfast.  I had time to collect my thoughts, leisurely drink my coffee, and prepare for the day.

In LA, were I to try and accomplish this, I would have had to account for traffic in all directions.  I would have had to search for parking.  And, I would have had to wake up extra early for this luxury, making it very much less a luxury and more like a complete waste of time.

Perhaps, it is just my perspective in the moment. Perhaps, I didn’t recognize enjoying a breakfast special at a diner as a possibility in LA.  Perhaps, I was so stuck in my routine, it never occurred to me to change it.

Or, maybe it’s just that without having to drive anywhere, I have gained a little extra time?

And, now I think, perhaps I have just driven you all a little nuts with my reflecting over thirty minutes of my morning… perhaps.

As ever,

K. Quinn

soon, at least.
I signed my lease last Saturday for an August 1 start.  Now I have to figure out when I can really move in, but first I have to finish a work retreat.

Today I am somewhere in the Boston Harbor Island chain along with most everyone in the organization I work for.  It has been intense, and it has humbled me.  Everyone is very thoughtful, in fact genius, and it makes me realize how hard I have to work to catch up with everyone.   And, even some of the people newer than I have been throwing out the ideas and suggestions.  And, perhaps I should give myself a break because I tend to be more thoughtful and observe and watch and weigh things, when I am new to an organization.  I don’t tend to jump in with suggestions because I am trying to understand the whole picture.  But I definitely feel the need to push myself to jump in faster, sooner, and work harder at thinking through and contributing.  So I guess I am saying that the stretch is good, and it’s pushing me to do better.  So I am lucky to work with a group that is so motivated, committed and driven.  I confess my brain is tired.

We have another full day – and I had to do some homework to prepare.  And then tomorrow we take a ferry back to Boston proper.  And, Thursday I take a train back to NY.

My apartment is a one bedroom that is only slightly smaller than my small one bedroom in Los Angeles.  And the building, but not my apartment, looks out over the Hudson… so that is just lovely.  It’s rather north, but it also means that I live in a relatively quiet area.  Quiet at least for New York.  And, I think I will need that.  One thing I do miss from LA was my weekly hikes in the Santa Monica mountains.  A short drive had me in a quiet paradise with ocean and desert views, smells of sagebrush, thyme, and desert flowers.  A short drive here in NY would mean a cab or subway which can bring me to a park, perhaps which may be beautiful, but it echoes the traffic and chaos of the ever pulsing city.  Even at night, the throbbing and pulsing of life in the city is ever-present.  Perhaps, being farther north will provide moments of solitude?  Or at least, I can create my own version of solitude in my new apartment.

As ever,

K. Quinn

I just found an apartment, and I submit the application tomorrow!  I could be a new renter as soon as the end of this week!

Let’s hope so because I am running down the days on my sublet and I will be homeless.

More to write upon learning my fate!

What a different landscape it is here for apartments!

As ever,

K. Quinn

It’s always the same story isn’t it… I get busy or go out of town, and then I don’t blog.  Well, this time it’s been busy and super hot… which being from LA wouldn’t bother me…. but predictably, it’s the humidity.  Ick…. to refer back to a long ago trip to India, “It is too sultry for me.”

I just returned from a Meet Up group for nonprofits.  SFX:  grumble, groan, sigh.

Only two other people I met actually work in nonprofit… one is in a nonprofit and the other consults but at least for nonprofits and has significant nonprofit experience.  Everyone else seemed to be either someone who likes volunteering with nonprofits or… and this was the majority… people who were starting a nonprofit because nobody had come up with their idea.  Truth?  YES, someone has comeup with your idea, and they are probably doing it better.

I mentioned this to my sister who wisely asked if it was a bunch of super young new to the workforce people.  Sadly, no.  If it was, I could be inspired by their desire to make a difference.  These were just a bunch of middle aged folks who have a day job and want to make the leap into nonprofit.  It reminded me of when I was acting and an older or much older person… I was young 20s, had decided to toss their job in accounting, banking, HR, etc. and ‘make it’ as an actor or voice-over in Hollywood.  To which I wanted to smack them upside the head and say… you think this doesn’t take talent, effort, learning your craft?  I guess nowadays that would be hard to argue given the apparent ‘success’ of folk like the Kardashians.

So tonight was a bunch of people who weren’t of particular use to me professionally…ok not all… and who weren’t necessarily people I want to hang out with personally…again for the most part.  However, I couldn’t rain on their parades, and I did decide to use my limited powers and knowledge for good rather than evil.  So I referred people to foundations and/or other organizations for potential funding or partnerships.  They were all super eager to get my business card.  Which means I will have several emails in the morning of people who want to pick my brain for funding.  Not my job.

Cynical New Yorker am I!

As ever,

K. Quinn

so I just got home from seeing Blue Man Group.  Much to tell, but I still have work to do… so I will fill in more later.

Sorry for short post!

As ever,

K. Quinn

So I witnessed a good deed tonight…

Eating at a Mexican restaurant and I see a homeless man knock at the door.  The owner comes to the door and talks with him, and then he returns to behind the counter.  He is busy at the grill, and then he brings a container with rice, beans and tortillas to the homeless man.

On the house.

I left an extra tip.

More good to come, but tonight it’s a short post.

As ever,

K. Quinn

And, so my day began.  Actually, I should amend this, my day didn’t begin with vermin, but my boss’ day did.  She opened her front door and a baby mouse ran through and straight under her couch.  Upon later discussion, we determined it was probably a full-grown mouse but we were open to defining it as juvenile.

So walking back from a meeting this morning, my boss told me about her mouse which got us talking as to what types of vermin we can stand and in what environments.  We are both agreed that rats indoors is a deal closer… out of the apartment.  Mice – less of deal closer, but needs to be dealt with.  Some of you may remember my winter of 2009… not so good with the mice.  Rats in the subway…ok on the rails.  And, how is it that my roommate has left a discard pizza box, albeit empty… yet greasy, on the kitchen floor and we haven’t been invaded by roaches…yet.  ?

Well, as some people would have the universe work, talk about it- surround yourself with it – and you will get it.  Thoughts beget actions.  Departing  the uptown 2 express (sounding like a New Yorker, right?  or maybe a LA transplant hopelessly trying to sound New Yorker), I see a rat waiting for us on the platform.  I warn my boss, and we both hurry in very girlie fashion down the platform away from said rat.

Now rats are on my mind…and mice haven’t left my boss’ mind.

At the end of the day, we left the hospital together and as we head to cross the street, I notice a bike on a collision course with my boss.  I shout my boss’ name and warn her to look out.   She immediately cringes, looks to her feet, and picks them up to avoid stepping on … anything with a tail.  Fortunately, the cyclist swerves.  Now we have rats and mice on our nerves.  And as we wait for the train home, I notice a rat on that same platform across from us.  Ugh, is it the same rat or a new one?

Now I feel like I have creepy crawlies all over me with the accompanying itches and hair tingling.  Combine that with my mis-step on a half-drunk box of Yoohoo that squishes and explodes on my shins, and I am just completely grossed out.

It’s a good thing that I am escaping the heat and headed home this weekend.

Good bye Mr. Rat and brother mouse!

As ever,

K. Quinn

and other assorted troubles.

The heat has made me lethargic, so I keep putting off things that I sort of really need to do.  Tonight, I need to do laundry, but the idea of going down into the bowels of this apartment building to fold laundry next to a dryer that is legendary for scorching clothes…has me thinking otherwise.

I need to do yoga, but I have only got as far as unrolling the mat.  There it sits casting a baleful eye at me from its unfurled position.  I don’t know that it really appreciates the sweat and additional heat that would be generated all so that I can do the locust and transition into downward dog.

I also need to do the hospital’s orientation self-study guide.  Truth be told, performing an essentially take-home test on HIPAA requirements has even less appeal than downward dog at this moment.

I am suffering from chapped lips which I think are due to me lying prone in front of the fan for extended periods of time.

Finally, according to my stats page on this blog, my posts have appeared or been witnessed or some such nonsense by 90 people today, but it also says no one has read the blog.  Um, confusion?  I can only assume this has something to do with an ill-fated attempt by me to link my blog to my Facebook account.  When checking Facebook, I’m not seeing it.  So, once again modern technology has foiled me.  Ugh, that makes me sound so old!

Can’t end on that note so….

I am off to embrace downward dog while hitting the books on updated HIPAA facts.

As ever,

K. Quinn