*If you hate Denny’s, I now kindly ask you to leave and never return to this blog.

It’s difficult to reflect when you never sit down.

It’s also hard to poop when you’re constipated. I learned that on the subway. Not really. What I did learn on the subway is that you should never offer a bum a pear. You should not offer a bum a pear because he will get angry. Because he does not want food. He wants money. For drugs. Do they not have “D.A.R.E.” up here? Because I Googled “gas stove” yesterday to see if it was safe to bring my cell phone near my spaghetti, so I’m not in the top tier of “street smarts,” but the girl across from me offered a bum a pear, causing him to mutter expletives and talk about “knocking teef out.” Before that, he was just a man looking for some change, only to be met with disconnected eyes. Now, he has a prickly weapon. Thank you.

This, just two days after I successfully mastered “not smiling at strangers.” This has been difficult. Mainly because there is this commercial I see on all the networks up here where a man is being inaugurated as President and bam! flashback mode! and they show that his parents met on a subway circa 2010 because his father was able to quickly change his ticket and hop on the train. Now let me ask you a question big ad agency. Do you think you are helping people with this ad? Because now I’m confused. How about you stick to the “don’t text while driving” campaigns and stop endangering NYC singles?

Despite these commercials, I have received some good advice. Think of sad, sad things. Don’t look at people.

So I end up reading the ads with far too much enthusiasm. YES! I would love to learn English! How did you know? And then I see people staring at me. Wondering why I’m still reading the sign. Contemplating how a pale blonde knows so much Korean. I’m fascinating up here. And I’m a Mets fan! And I rode a train for 30 minutes in the wrong direction yesterday. And then I tried to walk to Ikea because Google told me it was only 2.4 miles away and I thought, “Sounds like a nice Saturday walk!” It wasn’t. And then, being not so optimistic on the way home, I tried to get a cab, but I couldn’t find one. Because no one lives near Ikea. I saw buses, but who knows how to ride those. Not me. The subway is tricky enough.

Guess who’s exhausted.

But wait. Remember that dance contest? I don’t want to pick a winner. So I’m going to let you do the dirty work. Vote here.

I’ll keep worrying about subways and pears and maybe even write another blog post this month.  And if you want these updates in real time, then follow me on Twitter.