(Since this is my first MEMO, I will explain that these are ideas that I have jotted down in my blackberry during train rides, long walks on the sidewalk, or while doing some other ‘waiting.’ I type them quickly into my memo-pad on my phone and save them for later. Now they have a home. I do a little editing but, for the most part, this is exactly what I write. Enjoy.)

The isolationist agenda of the average New York City metropolitan is never more well illustrated than by the birds’ eye view of a rainy day sidewalk. Umbrellas serve as an interim visible place-marker of the typical space-bubble that each person garners on his or her way to the-most-important-thing-in-the-world. If there were a legend it would articulate one umbrella = one person (the equal to 3 potential people’s standing room used for 1 dry individual). thisisbullshit

These creatures are very territorial.

If you do not shift your person by choice, then rest assured, some very busy and important umbrella will oblige. Bonus points if she suffers from aneroxia-nervosa. In fact, I am holding a city-wide contest in a search for the most anorexic person. MISS ANOREXIA-NERVOSA.

No, but really, I was going to leave this subject for another but it is an issue that is just too huge to ignore. The women here are classified into one of three categories:

  1. anorexic

  2. super fit

  3. normal and above

Men acknowledge the existence of the first two categories and/or are already in relationships with the third and feel that it is absolutely necessary to flaunt that reciprocated affection in front of all who pass. Speaking of which – please refer to

MEMO: “Sad Man Just Wants to Hold Hands”