Things I learned this week in New York City

Buying a 1-Day Fun Pass to ride the subway at 11:55 pm is not a good use of $7.50.

Falafel sandwiches taste much better when consumed on the steps of the Post Office in front of Madison Square Garden while a crazy man stands nearby and mutters because someone is on his step. Especially when you have a view like this:

Stephen Colbert has very soft hands.

I will follow you anywhere on the subway as long as you act like you know where you are going. Because I am a sheep.

I may need a new obsession. My current one has become rather predictable to those around me.

Pigeons can be surprisingly horrifying.

Working with sex offenders has given me a unique perspective on the world.

Monica has very patient relatives -- or at least one that I can think of.

Joking about using breastmilk in your coffee is only funny to those who have breastfed children before... to everyone else, it's just creepy.

Monica is
awesome and offensive. She also conspicuously left out the part of the evening where when the comedian mentioned that the Aussies were spread out throughout the studio, she said, "That's to keep them separated for security reasons."
Comedian: "Why? Who are they going to attack?"

Monica: "Us!"

Comedian: "US?? What are they going to use to attack us?"

Monica: "Boomerang."
You might think that bringing a breast pump and chilled breast milk to a taping of a television program would be odd and unique, but the security guard who goes through your bag will simply assume you've brought it as a gift for the television personality because of a previous sketch.

Watching seven episodes of Dexter in a row, then seeing his creepy leer staring out at you everywhere you go on the NYC subway... THEN stepping into a bathtub shower that's fully enclosed by a plastic shower curtain tends to play with your nerves.

I may be a lot older than I was in college, but I can still subsist on two hours sleep a night when I need to. Take that, twenty-somethings!

Even though I am what's technically known as an "adult," I still believe the cure for stress is a good road trip. (This is a comic strip I saved from a newspaper in college. Click to make it bigger if you can't read the words.)