January 16: The Reading Partners

I spend my lunch breaks once a week reading to an elementary school girl at lunchtime to foster confidence, reading abilities, and one-on-one investments in an at-risk youth. She's quite the handful. But occasionally, so affectionate and sweet that it melts my heart.

She has a friend in the program, and after the bell rings and we finish our reading log and pack up our our things, they usually shout at each other, run and collide in a hug and then trip over their feet out the door and into the hall and off to their classroom. That's what happened today, and I put my purse together and was saying goodbye to the program director, when my reading partner and her friend come back, arm-in-arm, to the room.

"We have something we want to give you!" they shouted.

"Okay! What is it?" I asked, leaning down to them.

"A hug!" they shouted in unison, and we all hugged each other together. It melted me a little bit.

Sometimes, we don't see the fruits of our labor immediately. But that's never to say that it's not having an effect and working.

January 15: The Applicant

Busy busy busy application season. Normally I can blow through all those and process a good 50 applications within 3 hours, but once in awhile I stop to take something in: the courses on their transcripts, the tone of their recommendations, or their personal statements.

Today, the one personal statement I happened to catch blew me away. I couldn't tear my eyes away and his story was incredible. Watching his father die at his birthday and being raised "the son of a widow" and fighting for women's empowerment globally.

We had to make a list of outstanding candidates just to put him on it. Way to go, sir. And good luck.

January 14: The Painter

It's like Amelie come to life. I don't think I fully appreciated my usual bar hangout until I took in the full scope of its characters, and this one is my favorite.

Every afternoon until early evening, this man comes in, sits at the first booth, and pulls out painting supplies from a canvas bag. He only drinks Manhattans, and the bartender is always whipping them up without question or fail. Then, he pulls out supplies and he paints... the same picture... over... and over... and over again.

Is this not amazing? I have so much to ask him about his life and why he does this, but in the end I don't really care. I just love that he exists, and is a regular at my place of choice.

January 13: This Ice Skater

You haven't experienced New York City until you've taken time out of your busy schedule to watch the ice skaters on any of the ice skating rinks that emerge in the wintertime. Amid the blurry, whirring crowds of couples, teens and kids all slipping and tripping and holding the railing for safety, there is always a gem of a character holding out for you to find them. Tonight, I did just that. This man was getting down with his bad self and shakin' and groovin' the 90's beats playing loudly over the speakers.

If you think that this is good, it gets better. Because as it turns out, his ice skates actually LIGHT UP.

Unreal. And yet, so awesome. I had actually sat down here at Bryant Park to take in the ice rink and try to relax while my brain ran at a mile a minute with a deep personal crisis I am currently navigating my way through, and seeing this man made it all worthwhile.

What a joy, what a smile, what a great way to love, appreciate and live life! Just knowing that this man exists should make the world a better place for all of us.

January 12: The Master of the House

Not a huge fan of Tom Hooper's Les Misérables, but certainly a fan of one Mr. Sacha Baron Cohen, who plays Monsieur Thénardier in that mess. But that's not even the half of it. When I'm stuck indoors due to the le misérable weather and too many writing assignments, I can get down. What picks me up?

BRUNO! Maybe it's the German in me, maybe it's the fag hag in me, the comedian in me, I don't know, but this ALWAYS picks me up. Watching this movie made my spirits soar again, when I had spent all day indoors and hadn't seen a single soul except my roommate otherwise.

Gay Converting Pastor: Can I tell you about the man who changed my life?
Bruno: Was it... Karl Lagerfeld?

Never gets old! Thank you for being my favorite person of the day, January 12.

January 11: "We're Following The Drag Queens"

I was out with friends in the Village at a bar for after-work drinks. I was planning on going home following the second round, sneaking out when everyone relocated to a new bar, but then they said that they wanted to go dance. Well, count me in. We went to the Village Underground, only to find a cover and a live band, neither of which we were interested in. Everyone seemed a bit discouraged. Oh no, would the night just end?

Someone in the group took charge and led us away toward Christopher Street. I thought he had a plan, but all he declared was, "We're following the drag queens!"

Apparently there was a show of drag queens who knew where the party was and we were following them! We could have went anywhere, after that comment I knew that it would be a good night regardless, but we also ended up at The Monster in West Village which had a killer dance floor, so it was fabulous. But the guy who announced we were following the drag queens was my favorite person that day.

January 10: The Wheelchair Looper

We've all seen those determined little faces, riding in their motorized wheelchairs, zipping down streets and sidewalks, watching the crowds part the ways and give them space as they hold that little joystick of direction down more furiously than ever.

I wasn't surprised when I saw this as I walked out the door of my work, into the cold winter night. I waited patiently for this man to pass before I headed to the crosswalk. But then, he did something interesting...

In the middle of sidewalk, he turned... and turned, turned turned. He did a loop... then shot off in the direction that he had been going anyway. Just a little celebratory circle. I loved it.

January 9: The Guy Who Gave $10 To Subway Performers

I'm all for the arts, but sometimes I get annoyed with the subway performers in New York. I mean, every moment, every day, every one is always trying to fill every facial orifice you have... trying to shove things in your ears, your nose, down your throat. Sometimes I just want to stand in the aisle and listen to my own music! But you have to move out of the way and they're too loud to ignore.

So after shopping at Trader Joe's, I was on the express train from 72nd Street down to Times Square when three kids came on and put on a ghetto blaster, clapping and flipping away. I edged to the door and toed my bag of groceries closer to me, and sat thinking in my head. To be honest, they weren't the best I had ever seen or heard, and no one seemed particularly enthused.

I was surprised when, upon the usual finale ("Thank you ladies and gentlemen, God bless, any donations appreciated and we wish you pleasant travels!") a man across from me, an older man looking monotonous and bored with a job that required a photo security badge that was still strung on his belt loop, started clapping and smiling. When the young kid came around, the man held out and gave him... A $10 BILL.

I've never seen anyone give more than $3, and never in bigger denominations that $1 bills, and even that was a stretch. Usually it was the silver change left in overcoats or jeans pockets. But oh, I wouldn't mistake the sepia tone of that $10 bill for anything. I must have been gaping because he looked at me and we made eye contact and he shrugged.

Like I said, I'm all for the arts, but not sure I'd be enough to drop a $10 bill. At least not in this state. But it was nice to see the generosity for something that really made his day.

January 8: The Bitchy Ex-Boyfriend

I felt like a classy lady when I went to v{iv} Thai restaurant in Hell's Kitchen with a friend. It's just done up in nice lights and classy furniture like you get in New York.

My friend and I couldn't help but notice the couple that sat next to us, and not for any real reason. They were a couple, and held hands, and kissed across the table, and were cute together. But then...!

Up saunters a very tall, very fit, very attractive man, who knew one of the guys.

"Hey you...! How are you?" he asks. He seems to expect the guy to get up, to hug him, to kiss his cheeks, and catch up.

Everyone looked uncomfortable. Both of the couple, and me and my friend. This hot ex-boyfriend was working it, and didn't bother to give one shred of acknowledgment or greeting to the new guy, who sat there, probably terrified this was going to "mean" something in the end. I just felt a little mal-intent on his end and felt so sad for what looked like a great relationship that he was dragging across the sand, just to be bitchy. To be fair, I guess I couldn't really judge his intentions, and intent is nine-tenths of the law. I believe all's fair in love and war, but I also believe some things are still sacred. But honestly I was probably just annoyed cause I was really rooting for that couple and then the hot guy had to go and probably make the other one super insecure. And also, why are the hot ones always bitchy?

January 7: The Stranger-Turn-Friend

In New York City, you need two perceptions to survive:

1. The ability to be open and adapt to anyone you meet, and
2. The ability to be on your guard and wary of anyone you meet

The trick is knowing when to do which. When you're a single woman hanging out at a bar, you tend to go for option 2. But hey, sometimes you're wrong.

I recognized this guy from my year at the bar. I knew he frequented there, and honestly, though I had no desire to talk to him despite him talking to a lot of the same people I might on another day, or reminding me of someone from home, inevitably we crossed paths.

I did the small talk scene. We had a mutual barfly-friend between us that helped break the ice and keep a buffer, but then he dropped a bomb on me: he was an MFA Fiction student at the institution and in the program that I had been looking into for myself.

Before I knew it, I was going at a mile a minute asking questions and getting his insight on the program, other programs, application process, lifestyle and future of someone in this program, and he was only happy to reciprocate. He knew of someone who could help me even further with my own situation and offered to put us in touch.

I just figured it was so ironic that one of the only regulars I hadn't bothered to know turned out to have more in common with me than any of the others. He was a stranger-turned-friend in one day. Still, better to be wary of a sane person than open to an insane one. I stand by my decision!

January 6: The Man Who Orders From The First Person He Sees

My friends and I wandered into a very confusing sushi restaurant. It was a basement-level place in Queens and upon entering, you're confront with two doors. Although the glass doors show that both lead to sushi restaurants, they look entirely different, and have a few signs:

Take Out
(with an arrow pointing to the right)

Please Wait To Be Seated

Which do we do? In the end we simply opened the door to the right and asked for a table, which we were immediately shown to. Easy enough, I suppose.

Halfway through our meal, I noticed a very... American man. Portly, pale and adorned with a trucker's hat, standing not only in the middle of the aisle, but blocking a waiter's way into the kitchen. A waiter holding a steel icy jug of water clearly on his way to refill glasses for the tables, by the way.

"Yeah, I want edamame and California rolls and rice," he was saying.

The waiter looked almost so confused that he might cry.

"That's what I want to order for take out," the man clarified. He wasn't being rude in an aggressive way, but he sure was being thoughtless. It was clear that he either completely passed the front counter, or else was impatient if no one was there, and just marched in to the first person he could find and was placing his order.

I couldn't pay much more attention to the situation, as my friends were clamoring for my opinion on the trainwreck of a movie we had just seen (Les Mis), but I couldn't help but think what a curious society we've set up that we feel our needs are so above any sort of patience or order sometime. It just made me laugh to think he could be so out of touch with his surroundings. I guess we're all that person at some point or another though.

January 5: The Paul Rudd Type

I do a lot of things in the city to break up the monotony of every day living. (Spoiler alert: a 9-to-5 job is still a 9-to-5 job whether you're in New York City or Lubbock, Texas). I took an acting class and ended up sitting next to a very pleasant fellow. The dressed-up-hipster type who wore a vest. We were given dialogue sides and though we all scribbled notes, I saw he wrote "Paul Rudd, Leslie Mann" on his.

It seemed fairly clairvoyant because the dialogue was exactly something out of a Judd Apatow movie that would star those two, but then I also noticed that he bore a striking resemblance to Paul Rudd as well. I'm guessing that Paul Rudd is his hero and that he could incorporate Paul Rudd into everything, including himself.

It was a little endearing because I imagined this guy going home to a room of ripped-out posters of Paul Rudd from Teen Beat taped by his bed and daily affirmations of Paul Rudd quotes on his bathroom mirror. Guys deserve crushes just like girls! I admit I have a Stephen Colbert corner in my own room. And come on, who doesn't like Paul Rudd?

January 4: The Pool Boys

We were four girls a dive bar on a Friday night with a mixed array of drinks. They were boys at the pool table with beers on the counter. I was content where I was in the booth, but one of the girls wanted in on a game of pool. I was wary. I knew boys and their games. I was hard pressed to ever be let into a game of darts at this establishment with their crowd.

But don't tell that to Tay. Up she sauntered to that chalkboard and in a flurry of chalk dust added her name to the list. She came back to our table for all of a few minutes before a cheery lad approached us.

"Which one's Tay?" He asked it in such a friendly way I wanted to tell him to pull up a chair and join us.

"That's me," she smiled.

"You're up!" he said, and led the way back to the pool table.

I stole glances of them back there, and was more than a little surprised to see how nice him and his friends were being, and none of them seemed to be doing it for any sort of gain; no one seemed to be hitting on Tay or even just humoring her. They just seemed cool.

This should probably be expected behavior, but sometimes we should probably still take the time out to tell people when we appreciate those everyday niceties, which are what really matter in the end.

January 3: The Unabashed Coworker

My plane landed 6 hours away from where it started. It landed at the dark hour before the dawn, in below-freezing temperatures, and it left me alone. I battled the start of the subway rush hour with a broken suitcase and humbled spirit. I was greeted by an office that was busy and bustling with flying papers, loose documents, sonatas of ringing phones, bursting inboxes and incessant interrogation from coworkers, so it was no wonder I went to the back for a breath of air and exhaled a weeping mess instead.

I didn't go unnoticed, and I soon had a small crowd of three empathetic women around me. The humorous part is that from my sobs and apologies, what they seemed to take from this was that I was upset about turning another year older, which wouldn't happen for another two and a half months anyway. I wasn't, but I didn't care enough to correct them.

Then there comes my newest coworker, the most cheerful and sweet person you've ever known to exist, who tells me her own story of hitting a milestone year (which, again, I'm not) but she was candid and unashamed and told me about a time she had to restart her life when her partner of 5 years left her for a 19-year-old, she lost her job and lived above a garage... and still seemed to come out okay.

It touched me and encouraged me that she felt she could open up that part of herself to me, all because she saw me in tears and wanted to comfort another person. I was met where I had need that day. She was (and is) a gem.

January 2: The Friend I Hadn't Seen In 10 Years

My January 2nd was interesting. I stayed up into it, slept at 4 and awoke at 7:30, so that by the time I was heavily in the car in the cool winter morning driving in the sunshine, I didn't really know what was going on. My head set off on a tilt and was spinning and all I knew was that I was meeting someone in two and a half hours for breakfast, and then getting on a plane that evening. What use was I?

Breakfast was special because I was meeting up with an old friend... a friend who seems to have preceded me in all I've done: living in San Diego and moving to Europe, albeit she married a Spaniard and stayed put in Madrid for six years. But after our times in high school together, and traveling to Guatemala together, and going to summer camps together, the last time I could recall seeing her was in 2003. And here we were finally in the same place again in 2013.

What I liked most was her compassion, and her honesty. I felt light-years behind her in so much, and she let me be candid and ask questions and get real answers for once, not padded answers from friends who feel they need to hold up a front for me. She let me question her and co-contemplate life at a time when my head was a fuzzy question mark whirling faster than I could go. And also, it was just reassuring to see someone after so long and still have a connection and something to talk about. She was something of an unexpected person of the day.

January 1: The Shockingly Friendly Waitress

New Year's Day. It all begins with a sense of the past, with memories of a lively or disappointing night, with drumming hopes of a sustainable, or better, year ahead, and the metropolitan world is bleary-eyed and tired with champagne hangovers. So who the hell wants to work on January 1st?

Not me. And I'm thankful that I don't. But there are some people that do, and ultimately I pity them and step kindly. I wouldn't judge them if they were in a bad mood or less than pleasant towards me. So imagine my surprise when I was a patron at a Mexican restaurant in San Diego's Gaslamp Quarter this Tuesday evening and the waitress was unbelievably nice.

Maybe you need more information. I wasn't just a patron there. I was one part of a two-person couple, the leg-holding, neck-kissing kind that was sitting on the same side of the booth, lingering long past we had ordered anything at all and had to be the subject of someone's conversation in that state. I had no mind to leave, but I do possess some sense of courtesy and was paranoid about being selfish, rude or ignorant and kept thinking we should leave the table, but I also just couldn't bring myself to move or suggest we leave. I was trembling at the thought of moving, and trembling at the thought of being inconsiderate. Stalemate.

I still can't remember her name, but that nice waitress came to our table and just wanted to make sure that she wasn't ignoring us. I told her that no, we were the ones being rude, and she said absolutely not, they had plenty of space and not to worry and to relax and take our time. Would you be that nice to an annoying couple on January 1st?

Maybe this is normal. Maybe it's not noteworthy or seems so casual and every day. But I've got to tell you; it was New Year's Day (Night), I was hours away from a long separation that was gnawing at my nerves, and every moment I had to stay put and be in the company I was, was crucial. She was a godsend of a character in my day.