My first job was at a restaurant there, under the table, when I was 16. I just approached them and asked for a job. They paid minimum wage plus free lunch.

I don't know if that helps, but I liked working at the market. It was actually more fun than going there as a shopper.

This is just off the top of my head, but what if you rolled them up in the a wash cloth, wrapped a rubber band around the cloth, and stuck them in the freezer? (assuming you have a fridge/freezer with the freezer on top. Or maybe just set them on top of the freezer?

We have a toddler (almost 2) who gets into everything. the freezer and the top of the freezer are two places he has not figured out how to access.

I'm assuming your knives are sharp. We've addressed this issue by having really dull knives that sit in the back of a high-up cabinet.

We've also taught him that a knife is dangerous, and this has actually worked. He calls them, along with scissors, "ouchies". Not that I'd trust him with one, but it helps.

Ulysses, by James Joyce, read aloud.

For what it is worth, I moved into a house last summer that had mold and mildew issues in the bathrooms. I have allergies, so this was a problem. I am renting, but I have to deal with the maintenance myself (this is because I'm renting from a relative at a big discount; if you have a real landlord, as someone noted already, you should get them to take responsibility for this).

Anyway, I bought some nasty, deadly looking stuff called "Mold Armor Mildew Stain remover Plus Blocker" at the Depot. I scrubbed the mold and mildew off the surface of the walls, sprayed it with the mold armor, let it dry, then painted over two layers of paint. Now it is the dead of winter, 8 months later, and nothing has crept through the paint so-far.

I didn't get around to attacking the shower bath tiles which were pretty gross, until early this year. I sprayed on the Mold Armor, scrubbed it down and rinsed it (wear gloves!!!!!!!!!!!). It has not grown back, and MY ALLERGIES HAVE GONE AWAY. I also changed my diet, so I don't know what solved my allergies, but I wonder if it was because I finally killed off the mildew farm I had been growing.

That is my story. Not sure if this helps. Good luck.

http://bit.ly/yvZum3

According to my big Oxford Spanish English dictionary, it is transbordador (m); ferry (m); or for a smaller ferry balsa or barca. I think Washington State Ferries are big enough to be transboradores. It doesn't say anything about regional differences. I'd imagine the Staten Island Ferry would probably be known as a 'El ferry de Staten Island' to most Spanish speaking New Yorkers.

These are all old; they tell you what NY WAS like, not what it is like now:

At the risk of being obvious: "A Catcher in the Rye"

"Call it Sleep" by by Henry Roth is as awesome book about the Jewish immigrant experience.

And if you want to venture into poetry, and if you are up for a challenge, read "The Bridge" by Hart Crane, which starts:

How many dawns, chill from his rippling rest
The seagull's wings shall dip and pivot him,
Shedding white rings of tumult, building high
Over the chained bay waters Liberty--

Then, with inviolate curve, forsake our eyes
As apparitional as sails that cross
Some page of figures to be filed away;
--Till elevators drop us from our day . . .

I think of cinemas, panoramic sleights
With multitudes bent toward some flashing scene
Never disclosed, but hastened to again,
Foretold to other eyes on the same screen;

And Thee, across the harbor, silver-paced
As though the sun took step of thee, yet left
Some motion ever unspent in thy stride,--
Implicitly thy freedom staying thee!

Out of some subway scuttle, cell or loft
A bedlamite speeds to thy parapets,
Tilting there momently, shrill shirt ballooning,
A jest falls from the speechless caravan.

Down Wall, from girder into street noon leaks,
A rip-tooth of the sky's acetylene;
All afternoon the cloud-flown derricks turn . . .
Thy cables breathe the North Atlantic still.

And obscure as that heaven of the Jews,
Thy guerdon . . . Accolade thou dost bestow
Of anonymity time cannot raise:
Vibrant reprieve and pardon thou dost show.

O harp and altar, of the fury fused,
(How could mere toil align thy choiring strings!)
Terrific threshold of the prophet's pledge,
Prayer of pariah, and the lover's cry,--

Again the traffic lights that skim thy swift
Unfractioned idiom, immaculate sigh of stars,
Beading thy path--condense eternity:
And we have seen night lifted in thine arms.

Under thy shadow by the piers I waited;
Only in darkness is thy shadow clear.
The City's fiery parcels all undone,
Already snow submerges an iron year . . .

O Sleepless as the river under thee,
Vaulting the sea, the prairies' dreaming sod,
Unto us lowliest sometime sweep, descend
And of the curveship lend a myth to God.

Return it to REI for a full refund or at least a store credit.