Turkey Day Shopping List:
2 loaves cornbread, homemade or store-bought
olive oil
1 1/2 pounds chorizo or andouille sausage
3 cups chopped red or yellow onions
1/2 onion
6 ribs celery, chopped
1 cup dried apricots, halved
1 cup dried cherries
1 cup coarsely chopped pecan halves
1/2 cup defatted chicken broth
1 gallon vegetable stock
1 red apple
6 sage leaves
1 cup kosher salt
1/2 tablespoon allspice berries
1/2 tablespoon candied ginger
1 gallon iced water
1 cinnamon stick
Canola Oil

and oh yeah – pick up the fresh turkey.

So this morning I come up out of the lower level of the GCT tunnels and I see this delivery man in cutoff green shorts. I notice this because it’s freezing outside, and I never understand people who wear shorts in the winter (no offense Garth). So I notice this guy and he has a black hat on that says “drink better water” on the back. I’m just noticing these things like I normally do when I people-watch, but this one turned out to be more interesting than normal.

Even though there is traffic speeding past, he pulls his heavily laden hand-truck into the closest lane, blocking traffic. He was clearly asking for some trouble, and that’s when other people started to watch as well. He specifically was blocking the way of a taxi (which is not good news) so the taxi started honking loudly and continuously. The taxi seizes the chance to pull into a farther lane and go around the delivery guy, and yells something out the window at him. The delivery guy yells something back and beats on the trunk of the taxi. The WALK sign is now ready for all of us non-adventurous pedestrians so we start crossing the street. The taxi stops, the driver gets out, the guy with the hand-truck leaves his stuff and runs over to the taxi and they start a fight. All kinds of names were thrown around and it was a fine display of jackassery.

The good news is a cute boy and I shared a moment of disdain for such behavior by saying at the same time “well good morning” and chuckling and smiling.

Lunch was very nice today. I just got paid, so I spent some money on necessities; that’s right, shoes, necklace, and a belt. I am going to a wedding this weekend and had no shoes to wear. That’s my excuse. But really, I only looked in the sale racks and stuff so I don’t feel guilty. My necklace only cost $12 :). After that was done I walked into Rockefeller Center thinking about what to get for lunch, when almost as in answer to my question, a farmer’s market popped into view. It was full of big apples, apple cider, apple cider donuts, apple pie… Other tables had all sorts of pies and produce. They were even selling cactuses (cacti for you spelling people). For an additional treat, the tree in Rockefeller Center is up, and scafforlded.There are guys up there real high up with saws and everything. The tree looks much nicer this year I think. So if you ever wondered how thy get all the lights up there, here’s a picture.

So as I am feverishly writing e-mails and following up on work, I notice a man at the copy machine that is near my cubicle. He’s a great and funny guy. Maybe about 65 years old, very smart… And I watch him pray to the copy machine. You know the stance: Standing with drooped shoulders, head down, staring at the machine as if it will speak to you with the truth of gods. Some people get mesmerized by this machine, and I found myself deep in tough about what it is that captures peoples attention and makes them so useless in front of mechanical devices. It’s as if they are in awe of the machine, or is it frustration?

There are always a few types of people when it comes to these things… The reverent and helpless, the masters, the procrastinators, and the copy-raged. We’ve already talked about the reverent. The masters are the people who solve every problem and have this (falsely attributed) aura of magician around the office. I believe I fit into this category. The procrastinators are the ones who know how to use the copier, but never let anyone else know so they don’t have to help anyone else out. They also sit at the copy machine trying to enlarge pictures of their face or making ridiculous amount of copies of something…. anything not to do actual work. Then there is the copy-rage people. They stand in front of the machine and offer up a scrappy irregularly sized piece of paper and expect it to run through the feeder. When the inevitable warning “BEEP” of the copier rings out, you start to hear BEEPS come out of the users mouth. They curse up a storm and sometimes whack at the machine. Then they try to retrieve their paper from the workings of the inner rollers and recesses of the deep. Either way, the masters get called again to save the day. And since I sit right near the copier I get to help everyone.

At least I am treated like a magician.