A Bite of the Big Apple – NYC Survival Guide

I would like to set the record straight. New Yorkers are not rude; people just fail to follow the rules of the city. For instance, in certain areas of Los Angeles, one must know when it is appropriate to wear red or blue; and in Washington D.C., shouting words or phrases like "bomb", "I love Bin Laden" or "I hate America" will more than likely cause you to be kidnapped in the middle of the night by men dressed in all black. So please, if you're going to visit, if you're thinking about visiting, or if you're simply watching something related to New York life on television, take a minute to read these rules - its essential to your survival in the city.

1. DO NOT stop in the middle of the sidewalk to take a picture of a famous site or

yourselves - most New Yorkers are usually on a mission to get somewhere and YOU

ARE IN THE WAY!

2. DO NOT walk four by four down the sidewalk - again, YOU ARE IN THE WAY!

3. Stay to the right - this is a universal rule in most major cities. If you're walking down the street, walk up or down stairs, or riding on an escalator, stay to the right because it allows people to pass you on the left...otherwise, YOU ARE STILL IN THE WAY!

4. Allow at least one step of space between you and the person in front of you when riding the escalator - no one wants to feel your breath on the back of their neck. This is also great for escape purposes in case of a pile up. Trust me, this alone saved me from a 12 person pile up that occurred when an old man fell at the bottom of the escalator at the 42nd Street AMC Theaters.

5. When entering the subway, move towards the center of the car - doing such allows the flow of traffic, in and out of the subway car, to occur more fluidly. But, if you like profanities being spewed at you or you enjoy being trampled, by all means, stand at the first bar closest to the door.

6. DO NOT stand in front of the car doors on the subway - do I really have to explain that you are in the way yet again.

7. When you go to sit down on the train - especially on an older subway with yellow and orange seats that have been molded to fit a particular body type - please do not do the sumo wrestler squat and assume there is enough space for you to take a seat. Say, "Excuse me," and wait for the non-verbal confirmation; otherwise, it's just rude and uncomfortable for everyone.

8. Be considerate when listening to your iPod, mp3 player, or phone - if you look around the subway, most people are reading and would prefer not to hear Gangster Rap, Heavy Metal, or Reggaeton while doing such.

9. Starring is NEVER appropriate.

10. DO NOT get offended when we New Yorkers roll our eyes when you say you want to go to Time Square. Its not you, we just know 9 times out of 10 there are tourist there breaking the above rules.

I'll be honest, I didn't realize how important these rules were until I moved here. It became even clearer after we had an influx of visitors during the holidays. So, consider yourself warned. And in the event you are here in New York and someone shoots you a crazy look, bumps into you, or shares a few choice words with you, take a minute to think if you've broken one of the rules.

♥ J'aime Bianca

"The First Lady Looks Like Me!" (Circa November 4,2008)

Those who were around during the 50's and 60's can recall exactly where they were when Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his "I Have A Dream" speech or the glory years of the JFK era. Sadly, they might also recall when both of these iconic men were assassinated. As a product of the 80's, the only thing I can recall is reading about great leaders and momentous time periods in my History books. But five, ten, or twenty years from now, when someone asks me "Where were you the day Barak Obama was elected president?," I will proudly respond, "Harlem Baby!"

I woke up Election Day with a great sense of excitement...and paranoia. The idea that Obama could become the first Black President made me ecstatic; but the notion that racism was still prevalent and elections had and can be stolen made me nauseous. All day I prayed for my people and my future President. After reports that two skinheads had planned to assassinate Obama surfaced earlier during the week, I was positive the KKK had devised a plan to exterminate anyone who looked like they would vote Democratic or did not pass the paper bag test. However, when I heard that people in Harlem were waiting in line for more than four hours to use one working polling machine at a particular location, my paranoia subsided.

The lines at the local Harlem polling locations were reminiscent of those that formed on the election days that occurred after the Voting Rights Act passed in 1965. And at my particular polling location the machines looked like they were from 1965. "Excuse me Miss, I'm supposed to step behind this curtain, go through the board, switch the buttons for my selections, and pull the lever all the way across to the other side???" My voting experience was one unlike any other voting experience I had ever had. While in the ballot booth, I took a minute to think about how peaceful this day was going. Everyone there exuded an enormous amount of pride, class, and dignity; it truly reflected the entire Obama campaign. Disappointed that I was unable to attain a voter confirmation ticket or an "I Voted" sticker, I called my grandmother to see if she would be able to make it out to vote. She wasted no time telling me, "I'm going to go vote for Obama baby...that's my man. You know I saw him when he came to the church. There were more secret service men there than members."

As the night drew nearer, I prepared to go to my aunt's election party. I stopped by Make My Cake Bakery to pick up some treats. In less than a minute I had a dozen Obama cupcakes and information on the largest outdoor election viewing party in Harlem. I stopped by the viewing party on 125th street before going to my Aunt's and was amazed by three things: the size of the screen streaming live CNN coverage, the size of the crowd, and the number of Black people selling bootleg Obama paraphernalia. About an hour after I arrived at my aunt's party, they declared Obama the winner. I was the youngest person at the party, yet I cried like a runaway slave that finally made it to freedom.

After some time, I found myself being drawn back towards the 125th street viewing party. The minute I, and a couple of folks from the party, walked out the apartment, I heard the people of Harlem roaring. Harlemites walked down the street congratulating one another and singing newly fabricated Obama songs. Standing in the center of 125th street and Adam Clayton Powell Blvd., I noticed the swarms of people coming from every direction making their way to this prime celebratory location. Eventually, the police gave up directing traffic and buses had to find an alternate route as the people continued to trickle in. I had never seen soooooooo many different races and ages of people joined together to celebrate in the magnitude they did that night. And with the African drummers playing in the background igniting the crowd that surrounded me, I found myself at a stand still thinking about one simple statement a young woman made as I was walking towards the festivities..."Finally, the first lady looks like me!"

♥ J'aime Bianca