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I've moved the blog to a new domain: www.noisiestpassenger.com

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While I've moved all old posts over to the new domain, old links will all point to the new homepage, not to the specific post. This was due to some issues with Blogger.

An elevator in my office building is being repaired. There are still three others to serve the escalation needs of workers between the 10th and 33rd floors. But the transition has not been without its, well, ups and downs.

Like many buildings in the financial district that pretend to be high-security, mine requires elevator patrons to scan ID cards before selecting a floor. Unless you ride the slowest elevator. That one is a free-for-all, if you have the patience. And you know who has patience? Psychopaths and deranged ex-employees...

Read the rest here.

My friend April sent me this link to some incredible inauguration photos. See some of the millions of people worldwide who were reveling in the moment.

A little over a year ago, I started keeping a weekly to-do list on a 4X6 inch index card. I was briefly unemployed and spending the hours of nine to five looking for another job. The card kept me accountable. It also gave me a sense of progress, even when many applications I completed and resumes I sent resulted in nothing.

I've been keeping the list ever since. I don't include any work tasks now that I have a day job again. Instead, I stick to outside activities, like tutoring, visits to the library, and appointments. I tell people I live one week at a time, and I really do. The card is my calendar cheat sheet.

When I was home for Christmas, my mom spent a day going through old papers. One upshot was a box of daily planners than spanned 1982 to 2008. I wasn't interested in her more recent record keeping. I wanted to peek into my mom's life from back when I was younger.

As I've grown up, I've realized how much my parents had their act together, especially in tough times. They married young. My mom was a housewife; my dad worked out of town in the oil field. I was born. My dad took a different local job. My sister was born. My dad broke his neck at work. Life completely changed.

This is what I've been told. My life, as I know it, begins with my dad being in chronic pain. My parents are broke (but not broken) and exhausted. My mom goes to college and becomes the breadwinner, while my dad stays at home. I'm in awe at how my parents were able to switch roles like that and never let on how scared they were.

In my research, I noticed my mom's daily planners were always full until about June. Recorded observations and reminders usually tapered off between one school year ending and another beginning. The entry marking the day I started kindergarten reads: "Amanda's first day. She was tearful and nervous. We survived."

Make that my 10-word memoir.

In another entry on some ordinary day, she wrote: "Ronnie [my dad] woke up feeling really good!"

The record, with its earnest exclamation point, is an artifact of love. When anything's been broken - my dad's body, my spirit, the zipper on a jacket - my mom has always done her best to fix it. She keeps a lot of tape around the house.

I got to know my mom better as I pored over her old daily planners. When she dies someday, I'd like to have them all. That way, I can look back in time on any given day among many years and see what she wanted to remember.

And I'll remember her.

I tell Jing that I can't go to her swim meet, because I'm spending the weekend in Boston.

Jing: Are you staying at a hotel?

Me: Yep.

Jing: You should steal all the soaps and shampoos and everything.

Me: I always bring something back.

Jing: When I went on the cruise, there was a razor and shaving cream. I took it, and my mom asked why.

Me: Why did you?

Jing: For my future armpits!

Me: Your future armpits?

Jing: I only have one hair under one of them now, but someday...

Elsewhere on the Internet...

Tables and bookcases and Murphy beds, oh my!

For the rest of my life, I'll remember that I was in a laundromat in Harlem when Barack Obama, our first black president, danced with his wife to "At Last."

A woman behind me was folding laundry from the dryer with tears running down her face.

Another woman and her daughters were cheering Beyonce, who was singing the song, and musing at how magical the first couple looked.

The small room of machines, soap, and strangers held so much warmth and promise. My laundry wasn't the only that left feeling refreshed.

Happy Obama Day!

I hope you're watching the inauguration footage today.

This is history.

I'm not sure who's worse: the men enrolled in VH1's Tool Academy or the women who agree to be on the show and say they love them.

I think I actually got dumber from watching this clip, which is to say, "Watch it now!"

I've been remiss about replying to comments. Thanks to everyone who leaves them. I love feedback, reactions, and questions. I don't write, because there's a metaphorical fire in me or something. I do it, because I like to share ideas with other people. You're the reason I'm still blogging - hooray!

Because I get emails with questions from time to time, and no question is stupid or individual - with the exception of "I like your blog. Could you send me some pics of your bare feet?" - I'll be posting answers to questions right on the blog from now on.

Here's a question I got from a fellow Amanda back in December:

Hi there! This is going to sound really stupid, but I am planning a solo trip to the USA in Feb 09, and I would love to go to New York but I am scared to go there alone.

I was wondering if you had any advice for me, since it will be my first time travelling on my own.

My response:

NYC is a great place for a first solo trip to the U.S. There's so much to see and do, and there are people from everywhere and anywhere here. For that reason, I feel like I don't know where to begin. Or end, for that matter. I'll cover a few basics.

I'm not sure what your budget is, as far as accommodation goes, but I'd actually advise you not to get a hotel in the tourist trap midtown area. Instead, check out hotels on the Upper West Side and even downtown. They're probably more affordable and in a better area. I can't say much about hostels, but I know there's one on Central Park West near my old apartment that's always full of smiling Europeans. I hear the hostel's really clean, unlike the Whitehouse Hotel hostel I once stayed in down on Bowery. (I contracted a skin infection after staying there and had to use a prescription cream to clear it up. Yum)! If you're staying awhile, you might save money doing a short sublet and staying in a real NYC apartment. Many people rent apartments by week - just check Craigslist and be very careful about scams.

Be sure to ride the subway when you visit. It's not too complicated, and you can always ask for directions. Even the locals have to do it sometimes. Get a weekly unlimited Metrocard, rather than putting small increments on a card. It'll save you money and time. Numbered subway lines are always faster than the lettered subway lines. I tell you this, because it's good to get accommodations near them, if you can.

Whatever predilections you may have, NYC will feed 'em. For shopping, wander around SoHo. For fun people watching, hang out in Union Square. For getting drunk and artsy, slink around the Lower East Side. There are tons of guidebooks all about the possibilities, so do some research. Each day, I advise you to pick up a free AM New York. The paper itself is nothing special, but there's always a schedule of activities going on in the city.

I've hit up most of the city's famous tourist attractions, so here are the ones I recommend: the New York Public Library on 5th Avenue, The Empire State Building, Grand Central Station concourse, and Central Park. The museums are great, if a bit daunting. Check out Museum Mile on the East Side and try to go on days when you pay what you want. You can probably see there's a theme to my response, and the theme is "I'm cheap."

I hope this helped a bit. NYC is the safest big city in the world and full of transplants, many of whom fell in love with it after visiting. Maybe you'll be one of them. Best wishes for a great adventure!

My favorite of the New Yorker cartoons I have on my refrigerator:

I'm contemplating getting this framed and hung in the kitchen above some liquor bottles I've yet to procure.