Leah ♥

You Know You're From New York City When...
You say "the city" and expect everyone to know that this means Manhattan.
You have never been to the Statue of Liberty or the Empire State Building.
You can get into a four-hour argument about how to get from Columbus Circle to Battery Park at 3:30 on the Friday before a long weekend, but can't find Wisconsin on a map.
Hookers and the homeless are invisible.
The subway makes sense.
You believe that being able to swear at people in their own language makes you multi-lingual.
You've considered stabbing someone just for saying "The Big Apple".
The most frequently used part of your car is the horn.
You call an 8' x 10' plot of patchy grass a yard.
You consider Westchester "upstate".
You think Central Park is "nature."
You see nothing odd about the speed of an auctioneer's speaking.
You're paying $1,200 for a studio the size of a walk-in closet and you think it’s a "steal."
You've been to New Jersey twice and got hopelessly lost both times.
You pay more each month to park your car than most people in the U.S. pay in rent.
You haven't seen more than twelve stars in the night sky since you went away to camp as a kid.
You go to dinner at 9 and head out to the clubs when most Americans are heading to bed.
Your closet is filled with black clothes.
You haven't heard the sound of true absolute silence since the 80s, and when you did, it terrified you.
You pay $5 without blinking for a beer that cost the bar 28 cents.
You take fashion seriously.
Being truly alone makes you nervous.
You have 27 different menus next to your telephone.
Going to Brooklyn is considered a "road trip."
America west of the Hudson is still theoretical to you.
You've gotten jaywalking down to an art form.
You take a taxi to get to your health club to exercise.
Your idea of personal space is no one actually standing on your toes.
$50 worth of groceries fit in one paper bag.
You have a minimum of five "worst cab ride ever" stories.
You don't notice sirens anymore.
You live in a building with a larger population than most American towns.
Your doorman is Russian, your grocer is Korean your deli man is Israeli, your building super is Italian, your laundry guy is Chinese, your favorite bartender is Irish, your favorite diner owner is Greek, the watchseller on your corner is Senegalese, your last cabbie was Pakistani, your newsstand guy is Indian and your favorite falafel guy is Egyptian.
You're suspicious of strangers who are actually nice to you.
You secretly envy cabbies for their driving skills.
You think $7.00 to cross a bridge is a fair price.
Your door has more than three locks.
Your favorite movie has DeNiro in it.
You consider eye contact an act of overt aggression.
You run when you see a flashing "Do Not Walk" sign at the intersection.
You're 35 years old and don't have a driver's license.
You ride in a subway car with no air conditioning just because there are seats available.
You're willing to take in strange people as roommates simply to help pay the rent.
There is no North and South. It's uptown or downtown.
When you're away from home, you miss "real" pizza and "real" bagels.
You know the differences between all the different Ray's Pizzas.
You're not in the least bit interested in going to Times Square on New Year's Eve.
Your internal clock is permanently set to know when Alternate Side of the Street parking regulations are in effect.
You know what a bodega is.
You know how to fold the New York Times in half, vertically, so that you can read it on the subway or bus without knocking off other passenger's hats.
Someone bumps into you, and you check for your wallet.....
You cringe at hearing people pronounce Houston St. like the city in Texas
Film crews on your block annoy you, not excite you.
You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from NYC.

You Know You're Addicted to Cycling When...
Your surgeon tells you need a heart valve replacement and you ask if you have a choice between presta and schrader.
A measurement of 44-36-40 doesn't refer to the latest Playboy centerfold, but that new gear ratio you were considering for your Cobra.
A Power Bar starts tasting better than a Snickers.
The bra your significant other finds in your glove compartment belongs to your Trek and not the cute waitress at Denny's.
You wear your heart monitor to bed to make sure you stay within your target zone during any extracurricular activities.
The funeral director tells you "NO!" you can't ride your Cannondale in the funeral procession, even if you keep your headlight on.
You experience an unreasonable envy over someone who has bar end extenders longer than yours.
You're too tired for hanky-panky on a Friday night but pump out a five-hour century on Saturday.
Your wife tells you the only way she'll let you ride across the country is over her dead body and you tell her, "If that's the case, you'll be my first speed bump!"
You no longer require a hankie to blow your nose.
You have stopped even trying to explain to your spouse why you need two bikes...you just go buy another one and figure it will all work out in the divorce settlement.
You buy your crutches instead of renting.
You convert your car's brake and gas pedals to clipless.
You see nothing wrong with discussing the connection between hydration and urine color.
You find your Shimano touring shoes to be more comfortable and stylish than your gunboat sneakers.
You refuse to buy a couch because that patch of wallspace is taken up by the bike.
You have more money invested in your bike clothes than in the rest of your combined wardrobe.
Biker chick means black spandex, not leather, and a Marinoni, not a Harley.
"Four cheeseburgers and four large French Fries" is for you.
You see a fit, tanned, Lycra-clad young woman ride by, and the first thing you check out is her bicycle.
You empathize with the roadkill.
Despite all that winter fat you put on, you'll skim weight by buying titanium components.
You use wax on your chain, but not on your car.
Your mud guards are made out of milk jugs.
Your first course when you eat out is a large banana split.
When driving, you yell "On Your Left!" on passing another car.
You yell "Hole!" when you see a pothole while driving your car.
Your bike has more miles on its computer then your car's odometer.
You wear your riding gloves when driving your car.
You wear your bike shorts swimming.
You wear Charles River Wheelmen T-shirts all the time, including under dress shirts.
Your bikes are worth more than your car.
You buy a mini-van and immediately remove the rear seats to allow your bike(s) to fit.
When you move to a new area the first thing you look for is a bike shop.
You have more bike jerseys than dress shirts.
You take your bike along when you shop for a car - just to make sure the bike will fit inside.
You use the Yakima or Thule 'Fit Catalog' to pick your next new car instead of Consumer Reports.
You start yelling at cars to "hold your line."
You're comfortable bumping elbows with step vans.
You view crashes as an opportunity to upgrade components.
You clean your bike(s) more often then your car.
You're on the Board of Directors for a Bike Club.
You spend weeks during the summer spraying arrows on the sides of roads.
You and your significant other have and wear identical riding clothes.
You mount a $600 cap, on a $1,000 pickup truck, so your $3,000 bike doesn't get wet.
You can't seem to get to work by 8:30 AM, even for important meetings, but you don't have any problems at all meeting your buddies at 5:30 AM for a hammerfest.
You can tell your spouse, with a straight face, that it's too hot to mow the lawn and then bike off for a century.
You regard inter-gender discussion of genital pain as normal.
You know your cadence, but you have no idea what your speed is.
When driving your car you lean over the steering wheel, just like an aerobar.
Your car sits outside your garage because your garage is full of bikes and cycling gear.
You tailgate a semi-trailer to get the drafting effect.
You know your Bike Nashbar customer number by heart.
You hear someone had a crash and your first question is "How's the bike?"
You smile at your evening date, and she politely points out that you seem to have bugs in your teeth.
You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends who are addicted to cycling.