vaya con pance

Challenge 2010 June 29, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — gogopance @ 9:53 am

Here ye! Here ye!

I am going to challenge myself to write a new blog post every day the month of July. I don’t promise they will all be profound. And I don’t promise they will all be worth your time. But writing them will be worth my time and isn’t that what a self-serving blog is all about? Huzzah!

Now, excuse me while I get to stock-piling material. My future’s so bright, I gotta wear shades. On my head. Ya know, to protect my writing brain from harmful rays.

Yes, that was just an excuse to post this picture. I think it’s cool. (credit to Gregg)


heart stoppin’ good times June 26, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — gogopance @ 10:39 pm

You guys know I’m a spinner. I go Wednesday mornings (Spin Goddess) and Saturday mornings (the Aussie who really only sounds Australian when she says, “Make it steePAH!” Translation = crank up your resistance so it feels like you’re riding up a hill like that yodeler climbs on the “Price is Right.”). This morning’s class was an “interval” ride. This means we focus on getting our heart rates up with periods of super intense energy followed by “recovery” phases where we bring it back down to steady.

Not unlike, say, watching a World Cup soccer match. Which is what I did after spinning.

Every bar was packed. Rather, every bar with a TV was packed… with folks bunched up outside by the windows straining to catch a glimpse of the action inside. I scored a piece of wall at a super divey bar in the East Village. I’m not a huge soccer fan, but I do enjoy the Big [insert sport du jour] Game scene. Cue my second interval workout for the day. Heart rate up up Up Up  UP UP UP. Aaaaaand, down down down down down. Some dude to my right had a good time yelling, “PUSH! Push Fooorward! PUUUUUUUUSH!” over and over again. If I ever go into labor I want him there.


dog days June 24, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — gogopance @ 12:08 am

This is a downer post. But I just had to write it out of me.

I got off the subway two stops early on my way home tonight with the intention to walk off my dinner drunk (bottle of Proseco, check!). Said stop is in an uber populated hipster nightlife area buzzing (like myself) with much bar-hopping foot traffic at any given hour. I emerged from underground, hit our 90-degree humidity like a brick wall and ran smack into a scene.

First I noticed the panting dog sprawled on the sidewalk. A plastic bowl full of change, not water, by her head.

Second I noticed the puppies, barely born, shuffling on their bellies, searching for milk.

Third I noticed the three policemen, 2 in uniform, 1 in civvies. I only noticed them because two misguided puppies were trying desperately to nurse their shoes.

Fourth I noticed the tipsy [questionably] homeless guy nervously smoking a cigarette and digging in his pocket for a wallet.

I did not gawk on my newfound scene alone. Everyone who exited the station with me stopped dead in their tracks, trying to figure out what the f*ck was going on… certainly not what it looked like…. a homeless man, trying to procure cash out of us by using his prostrate mommy dog + brand new puppies as bait. And getting in trouble for it.

Which is exactly what was going on.

Suddenly sober, I couldn’t take my eyes off of the puppies. Tears were wallowing. What could I do? Other upstanding city folk were stalking the policemen, questioning them and making sure they were doing the “right thing.” But I was frozen. I watched as the homeless guy nervously chatted on his cell phone (technology must come cheap), while he pulled each puppy off a nipple and shoved them into a crate one at a time. I watched as he took his ID back from the cops and shook their hands. I watched as he physically pulled the mommy dog and her dangling breasts up to a standing position with the leash. I heard the squeaks of hunger from the crate. I watched as they all walked away. Guess he wasn’t getting in trouble after all.

I have no punny closing. It just made me sad. I hope the mommy dog, wherever she was headed, got to drink some water tonight. And I hope the puppies don’t suffer too much on their way into, or out of, life.

I will wake up tomorrow and think of them. But I doubt I will think of them much past that.


litter-ally, rambling ahead June 2, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — gogopance @ 9:02 am

I scored a seat on the L train home last night. Which just meant I didn’t have to bear all the weight of my stuff and that I could completely zone out. I didn’t need to pay attention to the space around me and shift accordingly. I claimed solid real estate.

Of course, instead of zoning out I stared at the guy across from me, letting my imagination give him a life he likely doesn’t have. He was visibly exhausted as he reached into his backpack and pulled out a single-serving packet of pills. Ripping it open, he picked out the goods with shaking fingers and threw the packaging to the floor. Grrrrrr. Littering is so, like, 1980s New York. I didn’t care *why* he needed the pills, I was now only concerned with his flippant treatment of trash. He downed the pills with water and then toyed with the empty bottle in his hands (label was ripped off, so I couldn’t tell what kind of water he is).

In my mind I was daring him to toss the bottle on the floor, too. I mean, why would he need a clean subway car to ride in every day? The bottle was now garbage, too, right? What made the paper so litter-worthy and the bottle not? Is there a hierarchy of trash I’m unaware of? What makes us throw some of our garbage away, but not all of it? Why hang on?

Hmmmmm. My after-work & gym mind is starting to lose all intelligent thought. We shall call this “Commuting Brain.” The purgatory between 100% Smart Brain and 100%  Zoned-Out Brain (when one thinks of, maybe, Cocoa Puffs… and… Legos).

If we got rid of all our trash we’d lose the opposing force to work against, right? I suppose this [pretty far-fetched] analogy gets all the more complicated when you factor in that he can reuse the bottle. Woah. Usable garbage. Oxy moron? I say as long as we use our trash for the betterment of something, then, sure! Hold the hell onto it. But if not, fortheloveofjehovah, use a trash can.

I think I should only stand on the train from now on.