The day we were leaving for New York, we came into the office for a half-day of client meetings before needing to leave for the airport, to find that our server had been hacked the night before and all our sites were down. Thus, no blog to post to for my entire New York trip. Nor did I get to see the excellent recommendation to see Spamalot in my comments. Of course my blog was the least of our worries.

Having your server hacked is kinda like having your car window smashed. Even though it may be a random act of selfish vandalism, it feels like a personal violation. But we’ve pretty much determined that it was a mass random hit and that no, Mom, it was not an intentional act of jealousy. It was seriously inconvenient, though, for us, our clients, our Valleyschwag subscribers, our developers who had to take time to set up a new server. Certainly not a disruption anyone appreciates.

And in the midst of that chaos it was off to New York. Thank God for the forced “relaxation” of the airplane ride. And at least I got a chance to finish Running With Scissors. (Wow, if you ever need a pick me up in the form of he’s-got-it-so-bad-it-makes-me-feel-better-about-myself, this is the book for you. Brilliant, but not for the squemish.) My it felt good to actually read a book.

And now — back home, back to work, back in the summer fog — New York seems like a dream. A hot and humid, crazy noisy dream. And I loved it. There were a few things that really suprised me, though.

1. New Yorkers are friendly. Yes, seriously, really truly friendly.

2. New Yorkers wear shorts and flipflops. This was probably the biggest shocker. Of course it was over 100 degrees plus that infamous Northeast humidity, so not necessarily fair to judge under those circumstances. But still, shorts & flipflops? In public? I thought only Californians did that.

3. I’ve seen a million New York movies and shows and I know everyone takes cabs in New York, but coming from a city where hailing a cab successfully requires divine intervention, it was SHOCKING and exhilirating to see so many cabs on the street. I could literally step up to the curb, throw up my arm and zoom! a cab would pull over. The thrill! The power! The convenience.

But I kept expecting the cabbie to turn around with a release form and say “Have you heard of Taxi Cab Confessions?”