An Open Letter to Brooklyn Drivers:

Dear Everyone in Brooklyn and I do mean everyone,

Lets take a moment to talk about this, shall we?:




Raise your hand and raise it high if you've seen one of these before. Now, keep your hand raised if you know its purpose. Well, if you're so smart, then how come you jerks can't seem to respect the purpose? In case you need some traffic law awareness, allow me to remind you that the STOP SIGN is intended to incidate a point at which to come to a full and complete stop. Say it with me: "FULL AND COMPLETE". When grouped together, say, at a 3-4 way stop intersection, it is also acceptable to go the extra mile and look both ways before proceeding. It is also standard practice to follow a "first come first served" mentality when operating at a 3-4 way stop. It's not "he who drives the fastest while honking and waving your Brooklyn Peace Sign finger gets to go first". I know this is shocking information and you're probably scratching your heads right now wondering how you could have gone wrong all these years, but let me tell you--If you honk at me one more time while I am properly obeying a traffic sign, you won't have many years left to ponder this. I am losing my patience, as indicated by my mid-intersection, fist waving, window rolled down screaming rant at the intersection of Fort Hamilton Parkway and 101st St this morning. (Ironically this is the same exact intersection where I recently had an accident so maybe I know a thing or two about the location). It was helpful to have my friend D pull up at the intersection at the exact same time and roll down her window to encourage me by shouting "I HATE BROOKLYN" in support of my raging 8-months-pregnant tirade in the street. (Oddly enough, D was also at that same intersection at the time of my aforementioned accident....maybe she's my Brooklyn Driving Fairy Godmother? Or maybe she thinks I stand in that intersection full time and raise holy hell on a daily basis? Or maybe she thinks I'm just working my usual corner? Yikes. I should make a note to call her and clarify.) Anyway, today I'd had enough. Some call it pregnancy hormones. I call it "living in Brooklyn for 18 months and 29 days".

So what have we learned today folks? Red octagonal shapes on corners are not to be ignored. Stop you idiots. Just stop. And do not honk at the few who do take, oh, 5 extra seconds of your life by looking both ways. Like I said before--I'm 8 months pregnant. If I rush into an intersection due to your honking just because you're an impatient ego maniac who is going to be .0002 seconds late for your tanning appointment and end up hurting my unborn baby, you will be getting the ultimate tan in the Deep Down Under if you know what I mean.

Double time at the next stop sign, JERKS--
L.

PS: Forgive my abrasiveness, but this is a trait that you seem to understand so I figured I speak your language. Hopefully it fully translated my inner rage clearly enough for you.

PPS: Tanning makes you look like an oompha-loompha. Give it up.

An Open Letter to Non "Cow People"

Dear Lady Who Was Mean To Me Today:



I'm sorry if you found my comments about New York offensive. Funny thing is, I wasn't even talking to you. And you have never met me! But that's okay. I can imagine how someone from New York might be offended when I say things like, "I don't ever think I will miss New York. I will miss the food and some other things, but honestly, I think I'll miss being hugely pregnant before I miss living in New York....and I'm not a fan of being hugely pregnant". I'm sorry if that statement, which was shared with someone who has spoken with me about her own similar opinions about New York, was offensive to you, a total stranger who was not even a part of the conversation.


What I don't get, and perhaps what further perpetuates my lack of attachment to this crazy place, is your response. You called me a "cow person". What, pray tell, is a "cow person"? I realize that I am 8 months going on 42 years preggo right now and look like I'm about to give birth to a full sized calf but I'm not an actual cow in "real life". I only play one on TV...and when I'm hugely pregnant. I am not employed by Chick-fil-A and therefore am not wearing the cow suit (another reason to not like NY....no Chick-fil-A!!!! GASP!). I'm not sure what a "cow person" is. I have never personally owned a cow and my high school did not have a 4-H program. I have had unprecedented access to cows on my Grandaddy's farm and have had the unfortunate experience of riding a cow and falling off into cow poo-poo, but again...how would you know that about me? In my defense, a duck is the closest thing to livestock I've ever owned thank you very much. Have you even actually seen a cow in person? Because I'm pretty sure in a blind taste test, 9 out of 10 people would agree that I am not a cow. My OB might say otherwise, but he'd be the 1 hold-out in that survey.



What's even more bizarre is that after you called me a cow person, you said that you'd rather, and I quote, "Hang on a cross than live in the boonies like where [I] grew up and have no life." Ouch. That's harsh. The thing about the boonies is that they are located far away from weirdos like you. Respect the boonies. Lots of positive things come from there. Ironically, I wouldn't call where I come from "boonies". Sure it's acceptable to be shoeless. Sure most meals are prepared using propane or a vat of oil. Sure at least 5 people on the block I grew up on own airboats. (You probably don't know what an airboat is, but I'll let you think that it's a magical boat that travels in the air a la George Jetson). Sure it gets reeeeeeeeeal dark outsiiiiiiide at niiiiiiight tiiiiiime cause 'dere ain't no city liiiiights gettin' in the way. I know where to get frog legs, alligator tail and fried turtle bites in a hurry. If that makes me a cow person....OK. Moo. I'm pretty sure that Jesus Christ would have SOOOO picked the boonies over the cross if he wasn't the Son of God with bigger responsibilities. I mean, he was kind of from there himself. Cows were present at his birth. And if the boonies are good enough for Jesus, they're good enough for this Baptist gal. I'm certainly not comparing myself to Jesus Christ, but lets be real. He never took public transportation and he didn't sleep at a Holiday Inn Express last night.


Look, I respect that some people....lots of people....can't imagine living anywhere else but NYC. I get it. I know those people. They can't go camping because it's too quiet. They are unfamiliar with the terms "covered dish" and "dinner on the grounds". They carry alternate pairs of shoes in their purses. They mock me for driving everywhere. I have been told by someone (in their WORST Brooklynese) that I have a "rediculous accent" and more than one stranger has stated to me, "you're not from here, huh?". That's okay! I don't mind not blending in because NY is a melting pot of all kinds of people. Even "cow people". I enjoy my NY friends because of our differences. They laugh at me, I laugh at them....it's a win win. We can learn from each other and have a pretty decent time. We will always be different. Crickets keep them up all night. Sirens keep me up all night. Everyone is different and that keeps things interesting.

My husband says that small towns breed big dreams. I believe that. Lots of greatness has come from the boonies. There's less competition and more room to grow ideas and garner support. I invite you to visit my not-so-small town down south any ol' time you want. (I mean, it was pretty much an orange grove when I was growing up but then they put in that big ol' shoppin' mall and things really took off!) Give it a try. Us cow folk might just impress you a little bit. There's a reason they call Florida the "Sixth Borough". New Yorkers move there in droves and then convert to "cow people" so they too can blend in and enjoy the lifestyle.

Double hugs, Moo Moo,
L.