Service was suspended for about 90 minutes between the Hoboken station and the World Trade Center and 33rd Street in Manhattan. It was restored shortly before noon.

Now, lucky for me I take the bus.

WRONG. All of the poor souls who commute via PATH trains were taking  -- you guessed it -- the bus.  

Not only were these people getting priority seating (ok any seating) on the busses, they were getting FREE rides because of the PATH problem, while the rest of us schmucks were standing outside in the FRIGID cold watching all of our busses whiz by.

To say the least, I was ready to kill somebody, when all of a sudden, she appeared out of nowhere...

The Harriet Tubman of NJ Transit bus drivers, waiting to secretly whisk us to NYC against all odds. Our own underground railroad if you will.

Well, not exactly but I am trying to make a point.

This angel of a bus driver, headed toward the PATH Station, stopped her bus across the street from my bus stop and yelled "Come with me if you want to get to NYC. Hurry."

It was a scene straight out of "The Terminator."

As we darted across traffic and onto the bus, still a bit unsure of where we'd end up, I felt a sense of adventure that I hadn't felt in awhile. We were on a mission: to get to Port Authority come hell or high water. 

I became the Julie McCoy of our bus, taking it upon myself to explain what was happening to the confused-looking passengers who were being hurried onto the bus by our driver. 

See, I knew what was going on because I received a very informative 1010 WINS text alert on my cell phone (shameless plug)...

After I told one girl of our driver's scheme, she exclaimed "I love her." 

Our plan worked and my hero bus driver got us to NYC as promised.

I was late for work but this time I didn't care. I was part of something.

So hats off to you, my Norma Rae bus driver. You rock! !

1/2/08

'Clean Slate in 2008'

That is my motto for the New Year. To me, it evokes feelings of starting over, growing, making positive changes, etc.

Plus it also rhymes.

I was torn between that and "Life is Great in 2008." 

Corny or not, they are way better than last year's "Better Livin' in 2007," and "Getting My Kicks in 2006."

I think of these catchy slogans around the same time that I and countless others make resolutions for the new year.

But it hit me: I really don't have any resolutions for this year. I mean, I have the usual "lose weight, get in better shape, learn to be more patient, make more money," etc, resolutions, but I make those every other week, so they don't really count.

So, I guess my resolution for 2008 is to keep the resolutions that I make each week! Maybe if I scale it down to a weekly resolution, it won't seem as daunting a task to keep. Make sense? 

This week's resolution: To try to pay attention to the Iowa Caucus, and get to the gym at least twice... 

What are your resolutions? Share them with me below.

1/1/08

'Happy New Year'

Or is it Happy New Year's? I've heard it said both ways and spent a great deal of my New Year's Eve night pondering that question -- along with overindulging in food, alcohol and karaoke...

Yes karaoke. And speaking of, why is there always one person at a party or bar who acts as if they are auditioning for American Idol when they see a karaoke machine?  I went to a party last night and there was a karaoke machine. A bunch of us were having fun singing, ok butchering some of our favorite songs, when "Ashlee" walked in.

She commandeered the microphone and was belting out songs as if the good people of America were about to cast a vote for her. At one point she looked at me and said "Do you want me to take the mic from you?"

Excuse me, Celine Dion? No.  I am doing a perfectly fine job of butchering Avril Lavine all by myself, thank you very much.

And speaking of New Year's Eve, is it me or does Dick Clark look plain old CREEPY at this point? I know you probably think I am terrible for saying that, but it's time for Dick to pass the torch.  Ryan Seacrest may wear a lot of makeup, but at least he doesn't look like he is filled with formaldehyde.

On that note, I wish you all a happy and healthy 2008.

As always, feel free to share your thoughts on my blog at the end of this page.

12/31/07

'Painful Politics'

On my way home Friday night, I started to think about a conversation that I had with a coworker earlier in the day. We were discussing the 2008 election, who we liked and disliked, etc. The usual political banter without getting too into it--if you know what I mean.

As I made my way through Port Authority and toward my bus gate, I remembered one thing she said: "As much as I would like to see a woman elected president, I am not going to vote for Hillary."

OK????

I asked her why -- again without getting too into it -- and she replied "because I don't like her. I don't particularily like any of the other candidates, and I really like that a woman is running, but again something about her I just don't like."

Here's my problem with that. I can understand not wanting to vote for a particular candidate because of where they stand on the issues. I can understand not wanting to vote for a particular candidate because of your personal beliefs, etc.

However, I cannot understand, as a woman, why you would not vote for a woman--especially if you are supposedly jazzed that a woman is running for office! Hello, it's probably going to be a long, long time before another woman gets this close.

And yes, many people dislike Hillary Clinton. I get it. But women, we need to unite! How great would it be to make history and elect our first woman president?? 

See in my opinion, just about every candidate, male or female, is full of B.S. They all make promises that they ultimately fail to keep. So why not give a woman a chance? Back in 2000, many people said they didn't vote for Al Gore because he seemed "boring." So they voted for the more fun "party boy" candidate. 

That proved to be a wise decision...

The more I started to think about the election, I started to feel empowered. I felt a renewed sense of purpose and got a burst of energy. I felt like chanting GIRL POWER at the top of my lungs! And then it happened...

I tripped up the escalator and fell FLAT ON MY FACE.

Not just one of those stumble forward and quickly recover up the stairs, but a down for the count want to cry from the pain and sheer humiliation of falling in front of all of these people at my bus gate.

At that point, the only thing I could think of was how grateful I was that someone had turned the escalator off.

What seemed like an eternity later, I managed to pick myself up, wipe myself off and limp toward the bus. I ignored the snickers from my fellow commuters but did not blame them because, frankly, watching someone fall is really funny. I don't know why, but it is.

As I sat in my bus seat and wrapped by blue, throbbing thumb in my scarf, I thought to myself...

"Damn You Hillary Clinton!"

Speaking of politics, check out my co-worker Justin Schrager's blog here

12/28/2007

'Wishful Thinking'

As each year comes to an end, we tend to look back and reflect on the past 365 days. We also look forward to the next year and what will come. We make resolutions and swear that this time we're going to keep the promises we made to ourselves and to others.

We also make wishes. We wish for health and happiness, a raise, a better job, to lose weight, to find love, etc.

Here are some of my wishes for 2008:

1: That people who walk at a snail's pace will get out of the way of the people who actually like getting to where they have to go on time. If you're sauntering up or down stairs/escalators etc., please just move a tiny bit to the side. You have no idea how much it will be appreciated.

2: That people who talk on their cell phones will at the very least try to keep it down. I've given up hope that people will stop talking on the bus altogether, but I am hopeful that maybe they will not talk so LOUDLY.

3: That women will not bathe in perfume. You have no idea how nauseating it is, seriously. And to all of you Sam Malone's out there, that goes for you too.

4:  That I will not get stuck walking behind a slow-moving smoker again.

5: That I never have to read or post another story about former NJ Governor Jim McGreevey that says "Gay Governor" throughout. 

6: That parents take their kids out of the room when they are acting up. Parents, we honestly do not love your kids as much as you do, and as cute as you think it is that little Joey is punching eveyone in the bank line, it's not.

7: That people listening to their iPod on the bus, subway etc., will stop tapping and banging their feet to the song like they are Tommy Lee. You're not a rock star and look just plain silly.

8: That car honkers make their point and then quickly remove their hand from the horn. Do you really think blaring the horn for 15 seconds is going to make that much of an impact?

9: That people who cut you off whether in their car or on foot do so with a purpose and move as quickly as they made it appear they needed to. Why cut someone off only to crawl in front of them?

10: That if your card doesn't work in the ATM or subway turnstile, it's NOT GOING TO. Step aside and figure it out...

Wishing you a Happy New Year...

12/27/2007

'Painful Irony'

I have a big mouth. Or so I've been told my entire life by just about everyone I've ever come into contact with.

Except my dentist.

I had to have a crown put on yesterday and it was supposed to be a routine 30 minute "piece of cake" procedure.

It wasn't. My visit was the reason why people hate going to the dentist.  Seriously, my lips are so puffy today I look like a very unsexy Angelina Jolie (if there is such a thing)... Ok, that is wishful thinking. I look more like a not nearly as skinny but with much bigger boobs Mick Jagger.

Apparently a piece of cement got stuck in between two of my teeth so my dentist (who I shall refer to as Dr. Torture) tried for about 40 minutes to remove the cement.
 
She was unsuccessful. As I sat in the chair removing pieces of God-knows-what from my protective bib and nearly passing out from the sight of blood, I heard Dr. T say "this is very difficult because you have such a small mouth."

Umm, OK. Never heard that one before.

I have to admit, it briefly brought a smile to my very swollen face.

Briefly.

12/21/2007

'Happy 'Olidays'

Last night I was putting together a holiday travel guide for our readers that I entitiled "Ho Ho Holiday Travel Guide." After saving the article, I immediately wondered "Will it be considered offensive to have the words Ho Ho in the title?"

OK, that is ridiculous. That our society has gotten so out of control with political correctness I have to rethink using Ho Ho Ho in a title around Christmas.  In fact, there is a push now for Santa to say Ha Ha Ha

Now, the Santa Ha Ha Ha story turned out to be an Internet hoax, but it does make you think and say...

Enough already! I am a woman, and if someone called me the "H" word, I might take offense but it would depend on who was saying it and why. For example, if I went to a restaurant and a waiter said to me, "Would you like another glass of wine, ho?" that would probably bother me -- or maybe not depending on just how many glasses of wine I'd had at that point. 

But what I do take offense to is trying to censor Jolly Old Saint Nick. When he says the three H's, it is not meant to defame anyone.  

So let's say for argument's sake Santa starts using "Ha Ha Ha." Will stand up comics everywhere become offended?

Then what? Will Santa have to start pantomiming? 

And what about the word "Holiday" itself. Are we going to have to start saying Happy 'Olidays so we avoid "Ho" altogether?

What's next?
 
Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer will now be known as just Rudy. Red-nosed is too offensive to alcoholics.
Elves. Nope. Too offensive to little people. They will now be referred to as "Santa's workers."
And last but not least, following in the tradition of "Holiday Tree," Christmas will now simply be known as "that day." Cannot have the word Christ in there either...

Well, whatever lingo you use to celebrate the 'Olidays, have a happy one!



12/20/2007

'The Big Chill'

Do you remember the Christmas classic "The Year Without a Santa Claus?" It was by far one of my favorite holiday movies.  As a kid, I remember watching that movie and several others with my sister.  

There was always one character that creeped me out though: Mr. Heat Miser. Remember him? 


He'd sing: 
I'm Mr. Heat Miser,
I'm Mr. sun,
I'm Mr. green Christmas,
I'm Mr. hundred and one
Whatever I touch,
Starts to melt in my touch, I'm too much!

Well, he has been reincarnated as a woman and is alive and well in the form of 1010 WINS news anchor Sandi Klein!

If she's not the actual Heat Miser, she has to be a long-lost relative because she is ALWAYS HOT! 

Now I don't know if Sandi is in perma hot flash, but all I can say is that it is FREEZING in this newsroom. Not just cool, but meat locker cold. The kind of cold that makes your nose hairs freeze.

Remember the movie "Alive" about a rugby team stranded in the snow swept Andes Mountains who struggled to stay warm and ate human flesh to survive? They, I can guarantee, were warmer than I am...

My fingers become casualties in our daily thermostat wars. As I sit here and struggle to type this blog with my blue fingers (seriously, look how blue they are), I overhear Sandi saying how a cold environment is good for you. "It keeps you fresh, awake and invigorated...more productive."

Ok I didn't over hear that garbage, she actually said it to my face!  Um, that might work if I were a NAVY SEAL.

Give her 22 minutes and she'll sell you the Brooklyn Bridge...

Sandi says: Billie you are so vain, you think blue is your best color. I'd like to read your blog when the temp hits new highs and you are so drugged by the heat that you can't even spell WINS...

And another thing: One can always wear LAYERS -- add a sweater for example. It would be a sad sight to see the newsroom crew starting to remove their clothing!

12/19/2007

'I Don't'

Each day I come to work and post stories to our Web site. And just about each day there is a story that makes me shake my head in disbelief.

Here is today's story: Bride Dressed in White...Toilet Paper

The headline pretty much says it all, but allow me to elaborate just in case you'd like more details.

"Lovebirds Jennifer Cannon and Doy Nichols of Lexington, Ky., got hitched Wednesday in a Manhattan public restroom. She was wearing a gown fashioned from glue, tape and Charmin Ultra Soft and Ultra Strong toilet tissue. The wedding ceremony, attended by family and friends, took place in Times Square at the Charmin Restrooms -- temporary, free public restrooms, a company spokeswoman said."

Why would she do this you ask? I asked myself the very same question, and then thought: Well, she must be saving a lot of money by saying her "I do's" in a public restroom. Weddings are very expensive--I know, I was a bridesmaid in my cousin's wedding recently, and BELIEVE ME, the closest thing to free and cheap at that wedding was cousin Maria who had one too many martinis -- if you get my drift.

I started thinking about the TP bride again.
 
Not only must she be saving a ton of money on the wedding itself, she must be getting a fabulous honeymoon out of this!

Read on...

"Along with the wedding ceremony, the couple received all expense paid airline flights, hotel, and a honeymoon package at Destination Kohler in Kohler, Wisconsin."

WISCONSIN?? In the dead of winter? NOW it makes perfect sense...

Sounds like Charmin isn't the only thing getting squeezed here.

12/18/2007

'Start Spreading the News'

This is for men everywhere who use public transportation to get from A to B.

Since many of us commute via public transportation on a daily basis -- hence the word public -- I am asking you, BEGGING you to do me and all of the women who ride next to you a favor: STOP SPREADING YOUR LEGS!!

There I said it...

Now I know boys and girls have different parts, but guys, I am willing to wager that there is no medical reason (you wish) that requires you spread your legs miles apart when you are sitting on the bus, subway, ferry, etc. 

It is rude and makes a confined space even less comfortable for the person sitting next to you.

Because of you, women (and perhaps a handful of guys who do not spread their legs as if they are doing a seated Macarena), have to sit in near fetal position in an already uncomfortable seat, not to mention having to feel your damn leg the entire ride. 

Allow me to illustrate.

Pictured left is a woman sitting on the bus. Notice how her legs are closed and feet are together  -- taking up minimal space so the person next to her has room.

Now look at the picture to the right: DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR? Look how Sir Spread-a-Lot is lying back as if he were in his living room watching the big game. 

Notice how his leg is brushing against the coat of the person to his left (who just happened to be me).

ENOUGH! Ladies it is time for us to take a stand! 

The next time you find yourself next to a "spreader," do the following: Cross your legs so you accidentally whack him in the knee with your shoe--it won't hurt too much but it will make you (and all of us feel a bit better), or better yet, start putting on your make-up and elbow him while doing so. 

If all else fails, pick up your cell phone, call one of your friends and start talking about that time of the month. You never know, it just may make him up and move altogether!

Bottom line guys, if you are reading this, PLEASE show a little courtesy and keep your legs closed. We thank you in advance.

12/17/2007

'Bah Humbug'

I love this time of year...shopping for loved ones, coworkers (hint hint), etc. It's always fun trying to find the perfect present that you hope will bring a smile to someone's face and will not end up in your pile of gifts next year!

While out shopping for toys for my nephews recently, I came across the "Counter Terrorism" toy.

Counter Terrorism? I think that's a bit much, no? I mean, it's one thing to constantly put fear in the minds of the American public, but kids? I think they are a bit young to start worrying about fighting off the "evil-doers" of the world.

Yes GI Joe dolls have been around forever, but in the mind of a young child, Joe is just a doll fighting the bad guys...the unnamed, who knows who they are bad guys. 

I know toy merchants are trying to keep up with the times, but what's next? In keeping with current events, here are some toys I envision seeing on store shelves in the near future:

The Stem Cell Sally Doll: Pull her string and this is what she says: I am stem cell Sally. I may be able to cure Alzheimer's someday.

I don't have kids, so what do I know?

Despite the fact that the closest thing I have to my own offspring is a Cairn Terrier, I am going to make an observation about parenting today: Parents do not treat their kids like kids.

There. I said it.

This is especially true when it comes to how parents talk to their children.

Gone are the days of  "Because I said so," and "I'll give you something to cry about!"

For example...

I took the bus home as I normally do (see my tirade from a previous blog), and the only seat left was next to a 30-something woman and her son who could have been no more than 3 to 4 years old. As I sat there wedged between a woman with a chronic cough, and the mother and son duo, I could not help but overhear their conversation which went something like this:

Boy: I want some chewing gum

Mother: I will give you gum, but not until tomorrow

Boy: Early in the day morning?

Mother: Not early in the day, but after I get home from work

Boy: But I want guummmmm early in the day morning

Mother: Hudson, I will give you gum but not first thing in the morning

This made me think back to my childhood and how the same conversation would have played out. It would've sounded something like this:

Me: Can I have some gum?

Mom: No

Me: Why?

Mom: Because I SAID SO

Me: But why? I want some gummmmm

Mom: Ask me again and you'll be sorry

But I digress. So back to the bus conversation.

Mother: What would you like for dinner tonight?

Boy: Ummm...I dunno…candy

Mother: You cannot have candy for dinner, Hudson. Would you like tortellini alfredo?

TORTELLINI ALFREDO??? Now does a 3-year-old even know what the heck tortellini alfredo is?

Boy: I dunno

Mother: Well, let me know if you want tortellini alfredo. If not, how about chicken parm UH-GEE-ANA (doing her best Giada DeLaurentis impression)

Let's go back to 1974...
Me: But I don’t like meatloaf. 
Mom: You’ll eat what I put in front of you or you’ll go to bed hungry.

Boy: Silence

Mother: Hudson, what did you do today?

Boy: I played with Henry

Mother: Where?

Boy: At his house

Mother: Oh, in Jersey City Heights

Jersey City Heights??? I SWEAR TO GOD. She said Jersey City Heights.

I wanted to look at her and say "Do you really think Hudson has any idea where Jersey City Heights is? I barely know and I am 37!

Boy: At his house.

DUH...

Mother: Jersey City Heights. That's what I thought.

Well GOOD FOR YOU MOM. You were right. You are smarter than your toddler.

At this point, Connie cough a-lot sitting next to me decides to talk to Hudson and his mom, and offer him CANDY! I am thinking to myself, "Were you not here for the gum conversation? And you are a stranger!"

There's no way mom is going to let him have the...

Boy: CANDY!

Mother: Thank you. Hudson, what do you say?

Boy: Can I eat this now?

Mother: No Hudson, what do you say to the nice lady?

You are an idiot for giving me candy while I am antsy on the bus?

Boy: Thank you. Can I eat this now?

Mother: You can eat this after your supper.

AFTER SUPPER??? WE'RE NOT EVEN OFF THE BUS YET!! Talk about torture!

Boy: But I want it now

Mother: Hudson, you can eat the candy after supper. Now take that wrapper out of your mouth or the same thing that happened to you yesterday will hapen to you tonight

OH Boy...this ought to be good

Boy: What?

Mother: You will be put in time out. Do you remember why you were put in time out yesterday?

NOOOOO. He can't remember what he had for breakfast today, and neither can I for that matter!

Boy: Um because, because... I dunno

Mother: because you didn't listen to me...

So now the cougher starts commiserating about her child that doesn't listen to her and I am starting to wish that our bus would slam into a pole.

And then the conversation somehow gets back to gum.

Boy: Why can't I have gum? Ms. Mitchell chews gum

I am assuming Ms. Mitchell is his teacher and he will try anything to get his mom to give him a piece of frieken gum!

Mother: That's because Ms. Mitchell is pregnant and probably chews gum to sooth her upset stomach

WHAT??? DID SHE REALLY JUST SAY THAT???? She DID!

And just as I started to lose all faith in modern-day parenting, my faith in chidhood was restored...

Boy: (as he bangs his head gently against the window) I am a poopy head....giggle giggle

No Hudson, your mommy is.

a 1.5 mile tunnel under the Hudson River, connecting the Garden State to the Gridlock State, has become my arch nemisis lately.

So much so in fact that I've decided to write about it. 

You see I suffer from PTR or Public Transportation Rage. Slightly different than road rage since I am typically crammed into close quarters with several other commuters and therefore not allowed to loudly express my anger and frustration. I just send lots of angry text messages to my boss, explaining once again that I am stuck in traffic.

I live in New Jersey and work in Manhattan. Sometimes I take the bus to work since it picks me up near my house.

It is a few miles from my house to the Port Authority bus terminal. However, it takes me over an hour to get to work. WHY? Because of the -- you guessed it -- dreaded Lincoln Tunnel.

What is especially frustrating is that I do not commute during rush hour. I am scheduled to be in the office for 10 a.m.

So this morning, I grabbed the 9:15 bus that came right on time at 9:33 and grabbed a seat. Knowing I was never going to be to work on time, I decided to take pictures with my cell phone in antipation of the article I was going to write.

The bus was overcrowded as usual but at least I was lucky enough to find a seat.

Well not quite...

I sat next to a woman eating the smelliest onion bagel on earth. If that weren't bad enough, the man standing practically on top of me was debating the meaning of life with a co-worker. Seriously...he was.

I finally made it to Port Authority at 9:58 a.m. and thought, "Britney Spears has a better chance of making the cover of Parenting Magazine that I do of getting to work on time today."

Now I typically walk to work, but seeing as though I had 120 seconds to be at my desk which is in an office 15 blocks away, I decided to take the subway.

Walking briskly through the crowds toward the uptown trains, I couldn't help but take in the sights and smells of the Port Authority passageway: urine and people banging on their "drum buckets" for Jesus.

Alas! The Uptown Q train!  

You can imagine my euphoria when I grabbed an express train to 57th Street/7th Ave. It was just a matter of minutes now before I got to work...

Phew...

And then the train stopped.

And the announcement came: "Ladies and gentlemen: Due to two trains on the tracks at 57th Street, we are forced to wait. Thank you for your patience."

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

As I sat there for what seemed like an eternity, it dawned on me why I walk to work.

If you're wondering, I finally made it to my office at 10:21 a.m. 

Suffer from commuter rage like me? Agree with what I have to say? Comment Below