Not cool

As loath as I am to agree with the New York Post on anything at all, I have to say that they got this story right. Why is Mayor Bloomberg’s technology commissioner claiming to live in Florida full time? And to save $3,000 a year in taxes? That’s insane. She makes over $200,000 a year by herself, and I’m sure her husband has income, too. There’s no excuse to be so cheap. Of course, today her husband informed the good people of Florida that she is not, in fact, a full-time resident, and hasn’t been since 2001. It’s not as though this was a case of oversight; they actively claimed that she still lived year round in Florida; she had a Florida driver’s license; and she voted in Florida elections. Seriously???

Was it worth the talk of fraud and loss of reputation? I will never understand politicians.

Delayed, but not denied

I wrote a couple of days ago about getting ready to move to the city. Since then, I’ve viewed apartments, and actually saw something that was billed as a “two room studio” that was bigger than some of my friends’ one bedroom apartments. It was where I wanted to be and the price was really reasonable (for Manhattan). So I feel good about that.

But I was looking over my expenses and realized that while I could afford an apartment now, it would be smarter to unload my consumer debt while I have fewer fixed monthly costs. To that end, I’ve already paid off a couple of accounts I could have zeroed out earlier, and have set myself to do better about paying off my remaining bills. It’s kind of scary when I look at how much money I make per year, and realize how little I have to show for it, aside from clothes, shoes, and yarn.

My mother, of course, is thrilled, because that means that I’ll be in the immediate area longer, and that gives her more time to try to convince me that living in New Jersey is the way to go. My father, who I thought was on my side or just didn’t care, seems to have sided with her, as had my aunt. Traitors.

Happy Monday!

One of the pictures that I took when Satanski and I went to the American Museum of Natural History has been added to the New York Schmap Guide. How exciting!

Museum of Natural History

As I mentioned yesterday, on Monday I took my nephew to the American Museum of Natural History. I had no idea what to expect of a 3-year-old in a museum, and I really wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d wanted to leave after an hour. When we went to see Madagascar 2, he pretty much hated the experience after 10 minutes, and I kind of thought that I might be crazy to try to take him to the museum, but I hadn’t been in over a decade and thought it was time. Here are a couple of pictures, but I took a passel and they can be seen here on Flickr.

Well! Satanski had a great time, and we ended up staying for five hours. We made it there in time to join the storytime group that meets in the morning. From there, we went to the butterfly exhibit. Note to self: 3-year-olds don’t seem to like things that fly around and threaten to land on them, even when said flying things are gorgeous. One butterfly actually did land on the kid, but (mercifully) it was on his shoulder, and he didn’t notice. A kind girl of about 8 attempted to let him know, but I quietly asked her not to, and she complied. She did immediately request of her father and brother, though, that they let her know if any of the butterflies landed on her.

When we left, the guards ask Satanski if he’d had a good time, and he told them, “No, the butterflies are scary.” It was pretty cute. The rest of the day was spent on lunch, dinosaurs, various realistic-dead (or fake) animals, and more play, and then we called it a day and came home. The kid fell asleep on the bus, and if there’d been somebody to carry me, I would have joined him.

Hell yeah!

I didn’t want to play Jinxy Jane yesterday, but I’m glad that I can now, without reservation, say that Barack Obama is the president-elect of the United States! I was asked at the party I attended last night, with all possible apologies and courtesy for the question, what Obama’s win meant to me, a black woman. And I have to say, I’m not sure whether I am approaching this from a place of racial pride. I have a lot of things going on right now. For the first time, the presidential candidate who I voted for won. I would have been happy if the new president-to-be could simply speak English, and instead we got somebody who is a captivating speaker, capable of raising people to almost religious levels of fervor and devotion (I think that sometimes it’s overdone, but it probably isn’t his fault that he is so charismatic). Plus, it’s exciting to know that the country will be run by a young guy, one who is certainly at a very different place in his life than I am, but who hasn’t been alive in eight different decades.

I find it moving to watch really committed Obama fans from all walks of life expressing such jubilation at his win. Walking back to Port Authority last night from Murray Hill, I saw so many people who were practically vibrating with happiness. On 5th Avenue, in front of the expensive stores, people spontaneously raised cries of “Obama” and “Wooooo!” People were so happy, and even the cops were smiling! I didn’t see one place where there was even a hint of trouble or unease. Everybody was too joyful to cause any sort of problem. I watched white people, young and old, cry tears of joy over the election of a black president. I looked at Obama and thought, “In a little over three decades, that could be my nephew.” I don’t believe that this proves that anybody in American can be anything, but I believe it moves us closer to that point than we have ever before been.