No joke - I took the elevator today with Dr. Ruth.

But when you’re with Dr. Ruth, an “elevator ride” is something entirely different.

New York City is putting my immune system through its paces. Apparently, washing my hands with the usual OCD regularity ain’t cutting the mustard. I’ve been sniffling. Sniffling!

Sure, I could eat right and exercise. But then I wouldn’t have time for cupcakes or naps.

Surely you know BJ Novak. He plays Ryan on The Office. He’s also one heck of a standup comedian, so much so that I paid $45 and an asinine Ticketmaster “convenience fee” to see him perform alongside several others last night. (Small note: I’ve found that convenience fees are rarely convenient.)

My favorite joke of the night is a cheesy one, I know, but here it goes:

“I saw a guy drinking a glass of water that had bits of frozen water in the water. I was like, ‘Man, that guy really likes his water!’”

My average work day is about ten hours, making for 50 per week and 200 in a month. Being around the same people for that long each and every day for nearly two and a half months so far puts me in a position to learn all sorts of unusual things about what may seem like perfectly normal coworkers. For example, today I learned that a coworker is moved to physical discomfort any time he hears the word “fart.” This makes it very hard not to say “fart” all the time.

I’ll consider it an exercise in willpower.

There’s a juice bar across the street from my house. Every day I walk by and think about all the evil, filthy food I put in my body throughout the week and how maybe a visit to the juice bar might curb some of it. Today I finally paid the place a visit.

It redefined “organic” and “homegrown.” I browsed the construction paper menus taped to the wall. Every drink was named after the ailment that it cured. After going back and forth between “diabetes” and “bruises,” I settled on “stress.” The guy used a machete right in front of me to cut open some coconuts. He threw a huge mix of powders and oils into a dusty old blender and watched it mix for a minute. He poured the concoction into a Dunkin’ Donuts cup. I thanked him and left.

After the first taste, I can honestly say it’s probably the healthiest thing I’ve ever ingested. I know this because it tasted absolutely terrible.

The subways were down for maintenance in my neighborhood, so to get to Midtown I took the bus. Anyone wanting to do some groundbreaking sociological research need only pack 50 people onto a New York City bus and watch the results unfold. The woman next to me read a pornographic book. The guy across the aisle poured some vodka into his grape juice. Someone started shouting four letter words at another guy for taking too long to get off the bus. I closed my eyes, taking in the auditory delights of metropolitan transportation.

I soon arrived at my destination, the Paley Center for Media. Several weeks ago I bought a ticket to see the Late Night writers give a public Q&A and the day had finally arrived. You read that correctly - I paid money to see people on a Saturday that I see at work every day for free.

I was pleasantly suprised to find that the event was moderated by Sarah Vowell. I’m a huge fan of her writing and her radio work, and she brought her hilariously morbid personality with her. They opened the event by showing clips of great comedic moments from the past fifteen years of the show, every single one inciting a riotous laugh. Sarah’s first question: “I know we just watched that great highlight reel, but for my first question, I’d like you all to share your greatest failures.”

Responded one writer: “You mean as a father?”

I walked down the stairs this morning, heading for work. I held out my arm to push the door open while walking, never slowing down for a second. Before I knew it, my elbow came back and smashed into my stomach. As I lay on the floor gasping for a full breath of air, I reminded myself that I’ve lived here for about two and a half months. You pull the door open.

Some work days are better than others. On a good day, I couldn’t be more friendly or happy. On a bad day I’m ready to pack myself into a cardboard box and have someone ship me back to Virginia. Yesterday was a bit of a bad day. But today absolutely made up for it.

Walking out of the studio just before show time, I saw Sarah Silverman and Elvis Costello talking to each other. Faced with the problem of having to figure out who to make out with first, I kept on walking to make sure I didn’t stop and stare.

The second highlight of the day was a subtle one that would only be noticed by a few people - former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright was a guest on the show and sat in the same chair that Flavor Flav did just a couple weeks ago.

It’s the little things, really.

“God will do the right thing on election day.”
-Sarah Palin

Thanks God!

Last night was like New Year’s Eve in November. People shouting, cars honking, jubilation! How lucky I am to be where I was. Strangers were high-fiving, slapping each other on the back. The optimism was tangible as I wandered around Times Square, a big stupid grin on my face while I took in the sight of people who were excited by politics, excited by their next president, excited by their country.