Genre: Romp Stompin Broadway Number in Honor of NYC
Date: early October-ish
Description:
A song about scientists. I know some fabulous normal wonderful darling charistmatic scientists, such as LBF, R, M, and everyone's favorite physicist in CA. This song is not about them.
Lyrics:
Scientists are good at calculations and
Scientists are good at consensus sequences and tumor cells
But not so much when it comes to social skills
You can talk about concentrations and
the ever-interesting lengths of incubations and protocols
Or you can tell them how cute their kids look in the JC Penny professional photos
You are screwed if you have a personality
Don't expect to flesh out your posse with selections from your science-based company
They'll look at you like you have four heads
If you mention something with even the slightest depth
Take Brad, Joe, Steve or whoever
Who works in Cell and Molecular
I asked him about his day, he literally ran the other way
Could I really be so scary to all these folks in New York City?
I realize I'm a freak because I can't talk about my kid or dog or husband
But at least I have a little substance
Maybe I'm too much of a people person
When you try to get to know a scientist it makes them nervous
They won't tell their story
They'll look at you funny and give one word answers
God forbid they should say something witty
Maybe in four months I'll feel differently
Maybe the scientists will warm up to me and we'll discuss MTV
But I'm nearly certain that they still won't think that Teen Girl Squad is the funniest thing
And they'll just keep giggling
FOR NO GOOD REASON
Chorus
Scientists can be quirky and adorable depending on where you are
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Roots, Not Baseball
Last night there were hundreds upon hundreds upon hundreds of blissed out delirious Red Sox fans skipping around like idiots and screaming at the tops of their lungs through about four square blocks near the Riviera.
I joined up with the mob after skipping from the bar I'd watched the game at (there were at least 10 bars overloaded with Red Sox fans in these four square blocks) and after being stopped by at least ten people who gave me hugs and a few people who said "If you love Boston so fucking much, why don't you just fucking go back?"
The mob oscillated between ecstasy and shock. It wasn't as crazy as it was last week because people couldn't process it. We know the response to "We beat the Yankees!" but were we prepared for "We won the World Series!"?
In the middle of the micro-riot, two dudes climbed a pole and led various chants. Then they signalled for everyone to be quiet, and everyone, bizarrely enough, obliged.
This is what the dude yelled:
"You know what this is about? This isn't about us - this is for our grandfathers, who went 80 years without knowing what this feels like! This is for them!"
The micro-riot applause sounded different in response to this. It wasn't ecstasy or shock or delirium or chaos or bliss. It was the sound of respect, and pride, the sound of really deep roots.
And that, folks, is why I have been following baseball for the past two weeks. It's not baseball. It's pride in where I'm from, where my parents are from, where their parents and their parents' parents are from. Locals are a bizarre and dedicated breed, and that's what I am! Even though I don't live there anymore, I am still attached to my roots.
And so are most of you! I was thinking about how a lot of my friends from back home are locals with deep family roots in MA. For example, consider how M used to get excited every single time she'd drive by the house her father grew up in, which was around the corner from my house on Hall Street.
Or how my favorite ex-boyfriend's father is extremely sick, and how he has no short term memory anymore so he can't really communicate, but how my ex can still watch and discuss the Red Sox with him because my ex continuously returns to MA to watch sports.
In rooting for the Sox it's like I'm rooting for all of you because I know how much this means to you. I know that you have travelled to the west coast to see Red Sox games. I know that you look forward to Fenway each season. I know you've been hoping for this for your entire lives, just like your grandfathers. I am rooting for you and what you represent.
I can't get over the people on the street last night who were so angry that we were excited. It's just sad because New York City is a place where everyone feels like they belong. Historically that's what it is - people from all over the world came through New York City in search of hope and hopefully tolerance. New York City and its burroughs are places you can live regardless of your skin color, socioeconomic background, regardless of how bizarrely you dress or how many dogs you want to carry in your pocketbook with you to work.
Pride in the face of adversity. I hated New Yorkers last night and actually momentarily contemplated jumping on a Fung Wah bus to be where I belonged (until it occurred to me that, unlike NYC, the bars in Boston would not be open until 5am). I sang the praises of Boston and even of Rhode Island, where the kids I watched the game with hailed from (although I should mention that everyone in the bar agreed that CT, indeed, sucks).
This is why I watched baseball. I am proud of where I came from and who I am even though I live somewhere else now.
I am coming home for the parade this weekend because it actually hurts to see photos of people going nuts in Kenmore Square. I miss Boston today, but I will be there tomorrow! Woo hoo!
I joined up with the mob after skipping from the bar I'd watched the game at (there were at least 10 bars overloaded with Red Sox fans in these four square blocks) and after being stopped by at least ten people who gave me hugs and a few people who said "If you love Boston so fucking much, why don't you just fucking go back?"
The mob oscillated between ecstasy and shock. It wasn't as crazy as it was last week because people couldn't process it. We know the response to "We beat the Yankees!" but were we prepared for "We won the World Series!"?
In the middle of the micro-riot, two dudes climbed a pole and led various chants. Then they signalled for everyone to be quiet, and everyone, bizarrely enough, obliged.
This is what the dude yelled:
"You know what this is about? This isn't about us - this is for our grandfathers, who went 80 years without knowing what this feels like! This is for them!"
The micro-riot applause sounded different in response to this. It wasn't ecstasy or shock or delirium or chaos or bliss. It was the sound of respect, and pride, the sound of really deep roots.
And that, folks, is why I have been following baseball for the past two weeks. It's not baseball. It's pride in where I'm from, where my parents are from, where their parents and their parents' parents are from. Locals are a bizarre and dedicated breed, and that's what I am! Even though I don't live there anymore, I am still attached to my roots.
And so are most of you! I was thinking about how a lot of my friends from back home are locals with deep family roots in MA. For example, consider how M used to get excited every single time she'd drive by the house her father grew up in, which was around the corner from my house on Hall Street.
Or how my favorite ex-boyfriend's father is extremely sick, and how he has no short term memory anymore so he can't really communicate, but how my ex can still watch and discuss the Red Sox with him because my ex continuously returns to MA to watch sports.
In rooting for the Sox it's like I'm rooting for all of you because I know how much this means to you. I know that you have travelled to the west coast to see Red Sox games. I know that you look forward to Fenway each season. I know you've been hoping for this for your entire lives, just like your grandfathers. I am rooting for you and what you represent.
I can't get over the people on the street last night who were so angry that we were excited. It's just sad because New York City is a place where everyone feels like they belong. Historically that's what it is - people from all over the world came through New York City in search of hope and hopefully tolerance. New York City and its burroughs are places you can live regardless of your skin color, socioeconomic background, regardless of how bizarrely you dress or how many dogs you want to carry in your pocketbook with you to work.
Pride in the face of adversity. I hated New Yorkers last night and actually momentarily contemplated jumping on a Fung Wah bus to be where I belonged (until it occurred to me that, unlike NYC, the bars in Boston would not be open until 5am). I sang the praises of Boston and even of Rhode Island, where the kids I watched the game with hailed from (although I should mention that everyone in the bar agreed that CT, indeed, sucks).
This is why I watched baseball. I am proud of where I came from and who I am even though I live somewhere else now.
I am coming home for the parade this weekend because it actually hurts to see photos of people going nuts in Kenmore Square. I miss Boston today, but I will be there tomorrow! Woo hoo!
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
20 Things from 10.26.04
I wrote these down on fabulous pink post-its last night after baseball and half a bottle of wine because I was afraid that today I'd think that nothing happened yesterday.
In no particular drunken order:
1. Tommy Lee = growl
2. Larry King's big orange triangle head while interviewing Tommy Lee = weird
3. Red Sox = goes without saying
4. Audience in St. Louis = opposite of aesthetically appealing
5. Open mic on Avenue C = super sketchy and bad bad idea
6. Landon on Real World looking like and now reminding me of preferred ex-boyfriend = sentimental/nostalgic/missing/near-tears state
7. New York law requiring landlords to install carbon monoxide detectors that also requires tenants to pay for said detectors = absurd
8. MTV OC-reality-show-thing = only bad idea MTV has ever had
9. New Eminem video = phenomenal
10. Roommate's divorce finalized today = awesome!!!!
11. Hasidic men having to wear hats to bed = bizarre
12. White wine expanding cork = annoying but acceptable as long as you have packing tape
13. Nelson's After The Rain being played during World Series telecast = bliss!
14. Sister singing Somewhere Out There on phone = infinitely less lonely me
15. Snoop Dogg's minimalist Drop It Like Its Hot = salvation of current hip hop
16. Stranger comparing one of my blog songs to Low = one of best moments of life thus far
17. Labelling lots of tubes at work for first time in months = way more exciting than it should have been
18. New shirt from SoHo = big hit!
19. Listening to Your Ghost on Ipod = not as painful as it used to be
20. Daylight Savings Time (fall back! woo hoo!) in a few days = perfect timing after being drunk and sleep deprived because of baseball
In no particular drunken order:
1. Tommy Lee = growl
2. Larry King's big orange triangle head while interviewing Tommy Lee = weird
3. Red Sox = goes without saying
4. Audience in St. Louis = opposite of aesthetically appealing
5. Open mic on Avenue C = super sketchy and bad bad idea
6. Landon on Real World looking like and now reminding me of preferred ex-boyfriend = sentimental/nostalgic/missing/near-tears state
7. New York law requiring landlords to install carbon monoxide detectors that also requires tenants to pay for said detectors = absurd
8. MTV OC-reality-show-thing = only bad idea MTV has ever had
9. New Eminem video = phenomenal
10. Roommate's divorce finalized today = awesome!!!!
11. Hasidic men having to wear hats to bed = bizarre
12. White wine expanding cork = annoying but acceptable as long as you have packing tape
13. Nelson's After The Rain being played during World Series telecast = bliss!
14. Sister singing Somewhere Out There on phone = infinitely less lonely me
15. Snoop Dogg's minimalist Drop It Like Its Hot = salvation of current hip hop
16. Stranger comparing one of my blog songs to Low = one of best moments of life thus far
17. Labelling lots of tubes at work for first time in months = way more exciting than it should have been
18. New shirt from SoHo = big hit!
19. Listening to Your Ghost on Ipod = not as painful as it used to be
20. Daylight Savings Time (fall back! woo hoo!) in a few days = perfect timing after being drunk and sleep deprived because of baseball
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
The Votes Weren't In
So I only got one vote on what to do about the dude from The Riveria, and that was from my dear friend in France, who voted for Scenario 3.
I talked to an actual person about it - R at work - and he said "Dude, at least get a free dinner out of it! Don't tell him in advance you don't want to date him. That's mean. Get the free dinner, and say 'Look, man, I think you're cool but I'd like to just jam as friends."
After work last night I went to SoHo again in search of purple pants. I bought two purple sweaters, but no pants. I will not rest until I am the owner of purple pants! I tried on some size 0 pants that were at least four sizes to big. Infuriating.
(Sidenote 1: I have decided that when I am rich and famous I will be dressed by Dolce and Gabbana. People will say "Who are you wearing?" and I will say "Dolce and Gabbana" and then I will look coyly into the camera and pout.)
After the purple disappointment, I said "What will make up for this is a good burrito!" I'd heard of a place in Williamsburg that allegedly had good burritos, so I went there. Turned out to be an actual restaurant, so while waiting for my burrito I decided to call the dude.
(Sidenote 2: my quest for the Anna's-Equivalent-Burrito is still ongoing. I've now eaten burritos from six different places and none of them has even come close. There are so many issues - dryness, incorrect ratio of beans to rice, nastiness/run-iness of beans, nastiness of rice, bad ratio of guacamole to salsa. Last night's was ok - maybe number 2 in NY, but number 1 is not even 1/10 the burrito of the Anna's burrito!!! I am looking forward to Thanksgiving weekend if only to have an Anna's burrito.)
We were chatting, and we talked about SuperFly (it was nice to have someone to discuss SuperFly's embarrassing behavior with), the game (apparently all sorts of wonderful mayhem ensued for the hour or so after I left the Riviera last week), my job, NY. Finally I said "And what is it that you do?"
"I'm in the fashion industry."
I thought real hard and tried to remember him, and really, he's really really straight.
"Oh?"
"Actually, I just started a new job today."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. I'm really excited about it because I'm launching a new line of products."
"Oh?"
He went on to talk about how he used to work for Liz Claiborne (weird) and how he loves
sales/marketing in the fashion industry. I thought "Word. Free clothes pour moi!"
He finally wrapped back around to what he's doing at his new job, and he said "Yeah, I'm really excited about this new line of products."
"What are they?"
"It's a line of women's intimate apparel! I'm so excited - they're like these fabulous sets of matching bras and panties."
Panties. He said "panties." Heh. Heh heh.
Only in NY, folks.
Unfortunately the friend scenario won't work to my advantage, because you can't really ask your male friend to get you free "intimate apparel." What kind of man says "intimate apparel?"
The good news is that it was very light and very short, and he's low key. He travels, I told him I am busy with baseball and other nonsense this week, and he said "maybe we can grab a beer or something next week." He said he'd call next week. Totally low maintenance.
Panties. Heh.
I talked to an actual person about it - R at work - and he said "Dude, at least get a free dinner out of it! Don't tell him in advance you don't want to date him. That's mean. Get the free dinner, and say 'Look, man, I think you're cool but I'd like to just jam as friends."
After work last night I went to SoHo again in search of purple pants. I bought two purple sweaters, but no pants. I will not rest until I am the owner of purple pants! I tried on some size 0 pants that were at least four sizes to big. Infuriating.
(Sidenote 1: I have decided that when I am rich and famous I will be dressed by Dolce and Gabbana. People will say "Who are you wearing?" and I will say "Dolce and Gabbana" and then I will look coyly into the camera and pout.)
After the purple disappointment, I said "What will make up for this is a good burrito!" I'd heard of a place in Williamsburg that allegedly had good burritos, so I went there. Turned out to be an actual restaurant, so while waiting for my burrito I decided to call the dude.
(Sidenote 2: my quest for the Anna's-Equivalent-Burrito is still ongoing. I've now eaten burritos from six different places and none of them has even come close. There are so many issues - dryness, incorrect ratio of beans to rice, nastiness/run-iness of beans, nastiness of rice, bad ratio of guacamole to salsa. Last night's was ok - maybe number 2 in NY, but number 1 is not even 1/10 the burrito of the Anna's burrito!!! I am looking forward to Thanksgiving weekend if only to have an Anna's burrito.)
We were chatting, and we talked about SuperFly (it was nice to have someone to discuss SuperFly's embarrassing behavior with), the game (apparently all sorts of wonderful mayhem ensued for the hour or so after I left the Riviera last week), my job, NY. Finally I said "And what is it that you do?"
"I'm in the fashion industry."
I thought real hard and tried to remember him, and really, he's really really straight.
"Oh?"
"Actually, I just started a new job today."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. I'm really excited about it because I'm launching a new line of products."
"Oh?"
He went on to talk about how he used to work for Liz Claiborne (weird) and how he loves
sales/marketing in the fashion industry. I thought "Word. Free clothes pour moi!"
He finally wrapped back around to what he's doing at his new job, and he said "Yeah, I'm really excited about this new line of products."
"What are they?"
"It's a line of women's intimate apparel! I'm so excited - they're like these fabulous sets of matching bras and panties."
Panties. He said "panties." Heh. Heh heh.
Only in NY, folks.
Unfortunately the friend scenario won't work to my advantage, because you can't really ask your male friend to get you free "intimate apparel." What kind of man says "intimate apparel?"
The good news is that it was very light and very short, and he's low key. He travels, I told him I am busy with baseball and other nonsense this week, and he said "maybe we can grab a beer or something next week." He said he'd call next week. Totally low maintenance.
Panties. Heh.
Monday, October 25, 2004
Dentist Rant
Dear faithful readers,
I went to my dentist appointment this morning. As you know, making this appointment, like all things in NYC, was an ordeal. I called and made an appointment with the bitchy lady on the phone who said "Would you also like to make an appointment for a cleaning?" I responded "Wait - what did I just make an appointment for?" "The dentist." "They're separate?" "Hmmm-hmmmm." She transferred me to someone, and I said "I'd like to make an appointment for a cleaning?" She said "When?" and I said "Well, I am seeing the dentist on 10/25 at 9:00 am so after that?" She made an appointment for me at 9:30. Never have I had to make two appointments, but they seemed to think I was being insane for being confused so whatever. I should have known!
I arrived this morning at 9:00 am. On the nose. I was proud, because I thought I was running really late. I get in there and its chaos. Tons of irritable people waiting for appointments, as well as tons of women waiting behind the desk just looking bitchy.
I walked up to the desk and stood there for about four minutes while all of these women ignored me. I figured one of them would acknowledge me, look up, say something. But no. They kept looking through me, answering phones, talking to one another, speaking in Spanish to patients who were clearly irate about something. The vibe in there was foul and impatient.
Finally I said "Um? Excuse me?" and this one girl looked at me, put out that I was speaking. "I have an appointment at 9:00 with the dentist and then at 9:30 for a cleaning." "Which dentist?" she snapped, and I said "I don't know. I'm new. Maybe you can look it up?" All put out, she threw some forms at me and told me to fill them out. Like literally threw them. Well, more like slid them at me on the counter and then rolled her eyes. I filled them out and brought them back, and said "I don't know the address of my insurance" and she yelled at me and said "You don't know the address of your employer?" and I said, "No, my insurance" and she was like "SO!?!?" and I said "Well, there's this box here that asks for the address of your insurance and I'm just letting you know that I didn't fill it in" to which she responded "You don't know your employer's address?"
She snatched the paperwork out of my hands and stomped away.
I waited. During this time period, an older gentleman stormed out. Another gentleman was huffing and puffing. Another woman stormed off. Then another gentleman said "I'm not sure if the dentist knows I'm here. Nobody alerted him." "Did you sign in?" one woman barked. "I did, but nobody told him." "Oh, he KNOWS." I said "Wait - I didn't sign in?" and another woman barked "You don't have to because you're new." Meanwhile another woman was on the phone and said to the gentleman "Oh, well, now he knows you're here." Bitches.
I waited for 35 minutes. I looked up from my book and made eye contact with another woman behind the desk, who was, surprise suprise!, bitchy!, who summoned me over. She said "Do you know your work phone number?" I said I didn't (lame of me, yes, I know). It occurred to me then that she hadn't done anything with my paperwork before I looked up.
I waited another ten minutes, looked up, made eye contact again, and she summoned me. This time she said "What about your work address zip code?"
I made one up and then sat back down. Another ten minutes passed (it was now 10:00 am) and finally I stormed over to the desk and said "Look, I had a dentist appointment at 9:00 am. I've been waiting for an hour and I haven't been called in for the dentist or for my cleaning."
"Did you put in your paperwork for your cleaning?"
"I filled out the paperwork you gave me."
"It's different."
"Excuse me?"
"You have to fill out paperwork for your cleaning. That's why you haven't been CALLED," she snapped, and pointed around the corner.
I walked around the corner to the unmarked cleaning office? WTF?!?!??!?! A woman gave me more paperwork and said I'd be called in a few minutes after I saw the dentist.
I nearly started to cry. I'd been there for over an hour and everyone was mean and bitchy. I said "Do you have any idea when this might happen?" and she didn't.
I waited another fifteen minutes, after which I was called in for x-rays which were adminstered by a bitchy woman who told me to relax and who I couldn't really understand through her accent.
Then I had to wait another fifteen minutes for "the dentist."
Then I got called back to see "the dentist," where yet another bitchy woman, who gave me dirty looks for no reason, set me up. After sitting in the chair in silence for ten minutes while she stomped around and spoke on her cell phone, I said "Do you have any idea when he might turn up?" and she said "HE'LL BE HERE IN A SECOND!" and then stormed off.
The dentist was nice enough, but I hated him anyway. He was trying to be chatty, asked me if my family was in the mafia, but I couldn't be bothered. I wanted to kill him. He told me I don't have a cavity and told me I should get my teeth whitened because they are running a deal for $150, which is actually fairly cheap and which I'd have considered if I wasn't adamant about never setting foot in that place again.
I put my coat on at 10:45 and stormed into the cleaning office and declared "I can't take this anymore! I've been here for an hour and 45 minutes and I have a job!" The woman understood and told me to call to reschedule my appointment, but clearly I won't be doing that.
Now.
I'm not irate that I had to wait. Sometimes these things happen. There are dental emergencies. I understand that someone's tooth falling out is far more important than my yearly cleaning.
But.
What I can't tolerate is gross incompetence, the fact that they clearly didn't do anything with my paperwork because they were sitting around being bitchy for the first 45 minutes I was there, the fact that they ignored me when I walked in (and ignored everyone else there, for that matter), the fact they they rolled their eyes every time a patient would call on the phone. They were the antithesis of helpful. Would it have been so difficult for them to say "Here, fill out this paperwork, and when you're finished, walk to the unmarked office around the corner and fill out paperwork there." If they'd said that, I could have had my teeth cleaned during the wait. But no! They can't possibly be proactive or nice.
I hate them all.
And now I have to make yet another cleaning appointment and fill out new paperwork at another dentist's office. Man. I am never calling 1-800-DENTIST again.
I went to my dentist appointment this morning. As you know, making this appointment, like all things in NYC, was an ordeal. I called and made an appointment with the bitchy lady on the phone who said "Would you also like to make an appointment for a cleaning?" I responded "Wait - what did I just make an appointment for?" "The dentist." "They're separate?" "Hmmm-hmmmm." She transferred me to someone, and I said "I'd like to make an appointment for a cleaning?" She said "When?" and I said "Well, I am seeing the dentist on 10/25 at 9:00 am so after that?" She made an appointment for me at 9:30. Never have I had to make two appointments, but they seemed to think I was being insane for being confused so whatever. I should have known!
I arrived this morning at 9:00 am. On the nose. I was proud, because I thought I was running really late. I get in there and its chaos. Tons of irritable people waiting for appointments, as well as tons of women waiting behind the desk just looking bitchy.
I walked up to the desk and stood there for about four minutes while all of these women ignored me. I figured one of them would acknowledge me, look up, say something. But no. They kept looking through me, answering phones, talking to one another, speaking in Spanish to patients who were clearly irate about something. The vibe in there was foul and impatient.
Finally I said "Um? Excuse me?" and this one girl looked at me, put out that I was speaking. "I have an appointment at 9:00 with the dentist and then at 9:30 for a cleaning." "Which dentist?" she snapped, and I said "I don't know. I'm new. Maybe you can look it up?" All put out, she threw some forms at me and told me to fill them out. Like literally threw them. Well, more like slid them at me on the counter and then rolled her eyes. I filled them out and brought them back, and said "I don't know the address of my insurance" and she yelled at me and said "You don't know the address of your employer?" and I said, "No, my insurance" and she was like "SO!?!?" and I said "Well, there's this box here that asks for the address of your insurance and I'm just letting you know that I didn't fill it in" to which she responded "You don't know your employer's address?"
She snatched the paperwork out of my hands and stomped away.
I waited. During this time period, an older gentleman stormed out. Another gentleman was huffing and puffing. Another woman stormed off. Then another gentleman said "I'm not sure if the dentist knows I'm here. Nobody alerted him." "Did you sign in?" one woman barked. "I did, but nobody told him." "Oh, he KNOWS." I said "Wait - I didn't sign in?" and another woman barked "You don't have to because you're new." Meanwhile another woman was on the phone and said to the gentleman "Oh, well, now he knows you're here." Bitches.
I waited for 35 minutes. I looked up from my book and made eye contact with another woman behind the desk, who was, surprise suprise!, bitchy!, who summoned me over. She said "Do you know your work phone number?" I said I didn't (lame of me, yes, I know). It occurred to me then that she hadn't done anything with my paperwork before I looked up.
I waited another ten minutes, looked up, made eye contact again, and she summoned me. This time she said "What about your work address zip code?"
I made one up and then sat back down. Another ten minutes passed (it was now 10:00 am) and finally I stormed over to the desk and said "Look, I had a dentist appointment at 9:00 am. I've been waiting for an hour and I haven't been called in for the dentist or for my cleaning."
"Did you put in your paperwork for your cleaning?"
"I filled out the paperwork you gave me."
"It's different."
"Excuse me?"
"You have to fill out paperwork for your cleaning. That's why you haven't been CALLED," she snapped, and pointed around the corner.
I walked around the corner to the unmarked cleaning office? WTF?!?!??!?! A woman gave me more paperwork and said I'd be called in a few minutes after I saw the dentist.
I nearly started to cry. I'd been there for over an hour and everyone was mean and bitchy. I said "Do you have any idea when this might happen?" and she didn't.
I waited another fifteen minutes, after which I was called in for x-rays which were adminstered by a bitchy woman who told me to relax and who I couldn't really understand through her accent.
Then I had to wait another fifteen minutes for "the dentist."
Then I got called back to see "the dentist," where yet another bitchy woman, who gave me dirty looks for no reason, set me up. After sitting in the chair in silence for ten minutes while she stomped around and spoke on her cell phone, I said "Do you have any idea when he might turn up?" and she said "HE'LL BE HERE IN A SECOND!" and then stormed off.
The dentist was nice enough, but I hated him anyway. He was trying to be chatty, asked me if my family was in the mafia, but I couldn't be bothered. I wanted to kill him. He told me I don't have a cavity and told me I should get my teeth whitened because they are running a deal for $150, which is actually fairly cheap and which I'd have considered if I wasn't adamant about never setting foot in that place again.
I put my coat on at 10:45 and stormed into the cleaning office and declared "I can't take this anymore! I've been here for an hour and 45 minutes and I have a job!" The woman understood and told me to call to reschedule my appointment, but clearly I won't be doing that.
Now.
I'm not irate that I had to wait. Sometimes these things happen. There are dental emergencies. I understand that someone's tooth falling out is far more important than my yearly cleaning.
But.
What I can't tolerate is gross incompetence, the fact that they clearly didn't do anything with my paperwork because they were sitting around being bitchy for the first 45 minutes I was there, the fact that they ignored me when I walked in (and ignored everyone else there, for that matter), the fact they they rolled their eyes every time a patient would call on the phone. They were the antithesis of helpful. Would it have been so difficult for them to say "Here, fill out this paperwork, and when you're finished, walk to the unmarked office around the corner and fill out paperwork there." If they'd said that, I could have had my teeth cleaned during the wait. But no! They can't possibly be proactive or nice.
I hate them all.
And now I have to make yet another cleaning appointment and fill out new paperwork at another dentist's office. Man. I am never calling 1-800-DENTIST again.
Little Sisters
The weekend is over. For the first time since moving to New York I felt lonely. This is most likely because I had no plans and because my roommate was back in Boston, much to her and my dismay.
On Friday night I played lots of piano - I am working on a cover of a song to play at an open mic. I probably won't play this week. I want to get a recording of this song before I go public. I've actually only heard this song once or twice in my life. My father used to play it on the piano all the time when I was little, so I have this distorted notion of how it goes. I heard it recently in a vegetarian cafe in Williamsburg and realized that its one of the best emo songs ever written, despite being from the 70's and being by one of the classic rock's giants.
Saturday was spent doing things like reading, piano, and three loads of laundry! And grocery shopping! And the cooking of pasta for dinner, which was monumental since I haven't managed to boil pasta in years.
Also on Saturday one of the boys I met outside the Riviera called. Luckily I didn't answer the phone. This is not the one I really wanted to call, of course. I am torn as to what to do - I know I don't want to date this guy but I liked him well enough. I'm not sure I want to date anyone right now. There's far too much for me to do on a personal level to be bothered, unless there are skyrockets. Faithful readers, do I:
1. not call him back, thus losing the potential for a cool friend
2. call him back and go on a date with him and then tell him I don't want to date him or
3. call him back and tell him I think he's cool and I'd like to hang out, but I'm
not interested in dating anyone right now
My vote is 3, but is that evil? I suppose if he thinks its evil, he can always say "I only want to date. I have enough friends."
I watched baseball until the bottom of the fourth on Saturday night and then dragged myself away from the TV to see my favorite band in the world, Pinback, play around the corner. The opening band, Aspects of Physics was raw torture despite their having a promising name. Raw. Torture. They were all computer-y and art rock and god awful and had projections.
Between the opening band and Pinback, I sat down next to this girl who I swear was Avril Lavigne. I swear to you. She said "Are you hear by yourself?" and I said "Why yes I am" and she said "So am I. My name is M." We talked for a while, all the while I kept thinking "Am I certain this is not Avirl Lavigne?" Seriously. She was adorable - she just moved to NYC from Kansas City, where she lived for a few months after graduating from college in CA. She needed to get away from things, but is now alternating between elation and misery in Queens, where she works at a Victoria's Secret due to her major being Philosophy. I really enjoyed her company. She took my number and we parted ways so that she could sit atop a speaker to enjoy the show. She passed by me once on the way to the bar, and on her way back she gave me a kiss on the cheek.
It struck me that thus far, the only females I've met in NYC have been like little sisters. They're all at least five years younger than me but extremely protective of my emotional state. Interesting.
Nevertheless, I digress. Pinback was also raw torture. I am devastated. This is an instance of a band being so horrible live that they are destroyed for you for the rest of time. The vocals were terrible. It amazes me that they were ever able to get vocals good enough for the albums. They rocked too hard live. The beauty of the recordings is that they are sublte and soft, really moody and elegant. Things were choppy live. I left early to watch the remainder of the game, but it was over by the time I got home. And now Pinback is ruined. Just like Death Cab For Cutie. Actually, they didn't sound unlike Death Cab For Cutie, even though they sound nothing like Death Cab For Cutie. I wonder if all emo bands sound the same live, and their recordings are just deceptive.
Sunday was SoHo shopping. I encountered all manner of little dogs wearing expensive outfits while shopping as well as all manner or snotty/obnovioux/overzealous salesperson. One girl said "That sweater will totally fit you - you should buy it without even trying it on" as she followed me around the store. I said, "No, actually, I'll just try it on" and she was all pissed. I tried it on, and it was, of course, too big. Like it was so big that it was hanging off my chest. I came out of the dressing room and handed it to her and she was like "What! What's WRONG?" and I said "Too big" and she said "But you didn't even SHOW ME" and was all bitchy. I was like "Believe me, it was too big" and she said "Hmph" and stormed away.
I also walked into a store that could have been a museum or a store. I'm still not sure. Very fancy. I shouldn't have been in there. I also tried to get into a store that was locked. Perhaps it is one of these stores where you need an appointment to shop, or the kind of place where there can only be X amount of people in there at once so that the ratio of customer to salesperson can promote perfect overzealous/obnoxious salesperson behavior.
The good news it that I have purchased a coat! Now I can appear like a New Yorker on the outside, at the very least. I admired myself in many windows on the way to work this morning. My roommate said that I look like "a piece of candy" in the coat. It is agreed that it was a good purchase.
I listened to the new Elliott Smith on the subway. I almost cried. There is some really good stuff on it, some of his best. I'm sure Elliott Smith didn't sound like Death Cab for Cutie live, and he's about as Emo as it gets. Elliott, we miss you!
On Friday night I played lots of piano - I am working on a cover of a song to play at an open mic. I probably won't play this week. I want to get a recording of this song before I go public. I've actually only heard this song once or twice in my life. My father used to play it on the piano all the time when I was little, so I have this distorted notion of how it goes. I heard it recently in a vegetarian cafe in Williamsburg and realized that its one of the best emo songs ever written, despite being from the 70's and being by one of the classic rock's giants.
Saturday was spent doing things like reading, piano, and three loads of laundry! And grocery shopping! And the cooking of pasta for dinner, which was monumental since I haven't managed to boil pasta in years.
Also on Saturday one of the boys I met outside the Riviera called. Luckily I didn't answer the phone. This is not the one I really wanted to call, of course. I am torn as to what to do - I know I don't want to date this guy but I liked him well enough. I'm not sure I want to date anyone right now. There's far too much for me to do on a personal level to be bothered, unless there are skyrockets. Faithful readers, do I:
1. not call him back, thus losing the potential for a cool friend
2. call him back and go on a date with him and then tell him I don't want to date him or
3. call him back and tell him I think he's cool and I'd like to hang out, but I'm
not interested in dating anyone right now
My vote is 3, but is that evil? I suppose if he thinks its evil, he can always say "I only want to date. I have enough friends."
I watched baseball until the bottom of the fourth on Saturday night and then dragged myself away from the TV to see my favorite band in the world, Pinback, play around the corner. The opening band, Aspects of Physics was raw torture despite their having a promising name. Raw. Torture. They were all computer-y and art rock and god awful and had projections.
Between the opening band and Pinback, I sat down next to this girl who I swear was Avril Lavigne. I swear to you. She said "Are you hear by yourself?" and I said "Why yes I am" and she said "So am I. My name is M." We talked for a while, all the while I kept thinking "Am I certain this is not Avirl Lavigne?" Seriously. She was adorable - she just moved to NYC from Kansas City, where she lived for a few months after graduating from college in CA. She needed to get away from things, but is now alternating between elation and misery in Queens, where she works at a Victoria's Secret due to her major being Philosophy. I really enjoyed her company. She took my number and we parted ways so that she could sit atop a speaker to enjoy the show. She passed by me once on the way to the bar, and on her way back she gave me a kiss on the cheek.
It struck me that thus far, the only females I've met in NYC have been like little sisters. They're all at least five years younger than me but extremely protective of my emotional state. Interesting.
Nevertheless, I digress. Pinback was also raw torture. I am devastated. This is an instance of a band being so horrible live that they are destroyed for you for the rest of time. The vocals were terrible. It amazes me that they were ever able to get vocals good enough for the albums. They rocked too hard live. The beauty of the recordings is that they are sublte and soft, really moody and elegant. Things were choppy live. I left early to watch the remainder of the game, but it was over by the time I got home. And now Pinback is ruined. Just like Death Cab For Cutie. Actually, they didn't sound unlike Death Cab For Cutie, even though they sound nothing like Death Cab For Cutie. I wonder if all emo bands sound the same live, and their recordings are just deceptive.
Sunday was SoHo shopping. I encountered all manner of little dogs wearing expensive outfits while shopping as well as all manner or snotty/obnovioux/overzealous salesperson. One girl said "That sweater will totally fit you - you should buy it without even trying it on" as she followed me around the store. I said, "No, actually, I'll just try it on" and she was all pissed. I tried it on, and it was, of course, too big. Like it was so big that it was hanging off my chest. I came out of the dressing room and handed it to her and she was like "What! What's WRONG?" and I said "Too big" and she said "But you didn't even SHOW ME" and was all bitchy. I was like "Believe me, it was too big" and she said "Hmph" and stormed away.
I also walked into a store that could have been a museum or a store. I'm still not sure. Very fancy. I shouldn't have been in there. I also tried to get into a store that was locked. Perhaps it is one of these stores where you need an appointment to shop, or the kind of place where there can only be X amount of people in there at once so that the ratio of customer to salesperson can promote perfect overzealous/obnoxious salesperson behavior.
The good news it that I have purchased a coat! Now I can appear like a New Yorker on the outside, at the very least. I admired myself in many windows on the way to work this morning. My roommate said that I look like "a piece of candy" in the coat. It is agreed that it was a good purchase.
I listened to the new Elliott Smith on the subway. I almost cried. There is some really good stuff on it, some of his best. I'm sure Elliott Smith didn't sound like Death Cab for Cutie live, and he's about as Emo as it gets. Elliott, we miss you!
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