Erin Miller

This post is not meant to scare my mother or my grandmothers, but I just couldn't resist mentioning it---
There were 496 homicides in NYC last year, which is the lowest number on record since accurate records started being kept in 1963, and a 17 percent decrease from last year. The mayor and police department are excited about the improvement, especially in West Harlem districts like mine. But, in the 100 square blocks around my house, there were 5 murders, 19 rapes, 326 robberies, and 116 burglaries last year. I am sure that it is just me, and just some trick of population density, but those numbers still seem just a touch high.

I went three months in Honduras without stepping into a single elevator. I remember being awed and confused when I first got into one at the hotel I brought my parents to when they visited. Now I use elevators approximately a dozen times a day. I live on the fifth floor of my building, and I use our elevator to get downstairs about half the time and almost always to get back up. Last week, our elevator broke. I hadn't really understood how much I liked having an elevator until I didn't. Five flights of stairs doesn't sound like that many, but after two days of living on a stair master, my legs ached as soon as I thought about going up a single step. Our elevator has finally been back in working condition the last few days. After Spot and I took our afternoon walk today, I gratefully slumped into the elevator and hit the button for the fifth floor. The door closed and the machine started making noise, but Spot and I didn't move. My heart started to race. I was officially stuck in an elevator. And it was surprisingly frightening. The closed metal created an immediately intense feeling of claustrophobia. The inner door was closed and the outer door was stuck, but I couldn't get the inner door to open so that I could close the outer door. I tried to take some deep breaths and called one of my roommates who thankfully happened to be home. She ran downstairs and tried to open the outer door to the elevator, but it wouldn't budge. I began to sweat. Then my roommate thoughtfully kicked the door in and the elevator began to move, letting a relived animal and human out on the second floor. Spot and I will be taking the stairs this evening.

1. Make to do list at home
2. Make to do list at work
3. Check to do list
4. Make a blog post about to do list

I like to do lists. Actually, I prefer not having them, but if I have stuff I need to do, I have come to really enjoy having it in list form. My biggest complaint about my igoogle to do list is that when I complete something on it, it immediately deletes. I like to keep my to do lists with the items crossed out on it, so I can see that I have actually accomplished something. Luckily enough, I have a large white board attached to my desk, and it works great for to do lists. While I was studying and taking finals in the weeks after Thanksgiving break last semester, I got a bit overwhelmed. I couldn't deal with any "real-life tasks" I could only deal with school. So my to do list for "real-life tasks" grew pretty long, it stretched from the very top to the very bottom of the whiteboard.

Christmas break provided a wonderful three weeks of with very little to do. Sure, I still had a couple of to lists, but they were short, and kept in a small notebook, and even then, most of the items weren't accomplished. But now I am back in the city, working and getting ready for school, and the to do lists are growing again. I have to do lists in 3 places, but I am holding off on putting one up on the white board for as long as possible. Maybe I am afraid of how long it will get.

While I was visiting Dan and his family is Springfield during the holidays, we went to the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Museum. Lincoln spent his productive years as a lawyer in Springfield prior to being elected president. At the museum, they had one of those penny crushing machines that could imprint Lincoln's profile onto a penny for 51 cents. I would have made a penny with Lincoln on it for everyone I know, but alas, it was broken.

A few months ago I returned to New York after a short trip and one of my good friends asked me if I felt "validated as a person," if the trip had left me feeling calmer, refreshed, and more comfortable with myself and what I was doing in life. I hadn't ever thought about it that way, but in fact, the short weekend trip had accomplished that. I found the question striking because I think that people are generally afraid to admit that they crave validation, that they look not only internally but also externally for strength and approbation. I have been off of school and work for about two weeks, and I have just under a week of vacation left. So far I have spent some time visiting family in Oklahoma City, I spent Christmas with my family in Denver, and spent several days seeing my boyfriend's hometown and listening to the tales of his youth. Now I am spending time enjoying the company of my family and boyfriend and preparing for re-entry to "real-life" next week. Two nights ago, though, my validation became official.

Validated

Dan and I met up with some of his friends at a concert at the botanical gardens, which beyond some great music by Ian Cooke, included the additional benefits of free beer, as long as you didn't set your cup down, and a quick, cold, and breathtaking walk through the blooming Christmas lights of the gardens. It was an amazing evening and has led me to determine that not enough concerts include free beer and millions of glowing lights. Perhaps most importantly, however, when we gave the guy our tickets, he checked our ID's and officially validated us, so I guess maybe it is getting about time to return to the City.

Ian Cooke in Concert -- the picture are compliments of my impressive photographer-friend Nicole

Nicole's blog and access to more photos