I've officially performed my last benchwork of 2007. Woo.
There was a small birthday celebration for someone I don't really know, and someone suggested we watch this past weekend's Justin Timberlake digital short from SNL. I said "I'm not sure that's appopriate..." but people were intrigued, so I left, because, really, not good. It's funny, but not at-work funny.
I'm going to see Annie tonight. Not even Kathy Lee can deter me from Annie! No sir! Three musicals in one week. Does life get any better?
I said to D last night "What I would like out of life would be to make a living taking pictures and to see a musical every day." That would be bliss.
I've been thinking about how Mary Poppins was awesome but pointless. The pointlessness didn't bother me as a child. For a child, toys coming to life is the point. When did we become so concerned with plot? Themes? Direction? Dance numbers? The dance number to Step in Time was the best thing ever, and I was thrilled that it came in the second act. I struggle post-intermission, no matter what I'm seeing. Those writers are savvy!
I've also been thinking about how the musical is based on a movie that was based on a book, and isn't there anything original left in this world? Even Annie was based on a comic strip! Or was the comic strip based on the musical? I don't know. I'm sure I'll find this all out tonight in the program.
But seriously - what have I seen this year - The Producers (first a movie, right?), Spamalot (also a movie), The Pajama Game (based on a book), Mary Poppins (based on a movie based on a book), The Drowsey Chaperone (new! exciting! but paying homage to old-timey musicals, really a grandiose spoof but so much more eloquent than something like Spamalot), and tonight Annie. I still want to see Wicked before I go, and that, of course, is based on a book. Oh - I did see The Fantasticks, and as far as I know that was a totally original exercise that the writer blurted out when he was in school or something. So 7/8 unoriginal. Sad.
I don't know what my point is. I guess my point is that we live in an era of recycling in the entertainment industry and its sort of weird, given how much unique viral content there is on the web.
Which is why I'm not perturbed by Time's declaring YOU as The Person of the Year, because, seriously, it's Joe Schmoe Blogger who's influencing the world these days, generating buzz, making and breaking careers, etc. Everyone thinks its lame, but today's innovation is happening in a new way.
Blah blah blah.
I'm really tired today. I'm afraid I may fall asleep during Annie! No! I was up late too last night.
I had sangria with NR and drunk tagged Mother afterwards. Who does that? Me! It was the right thing to do, because when I'm in a toasty mood it is easier for me to handle things and to be optimistic. I was cracking Mother up, which made me feel good. She actually thanked me for it. Imagine, Mother thanking me for being drunk on a Wednesday night while wandering New York City alone at 11:15 pm! How far we've all come.
I got home and wasn't mad anymore, even though I probably should have been. I was impressed by the first apology he's ever issued, and wow. Being apologized to apparently works! It's much easier than having a fight. Granted, I apologized first for being overly emotional, but he apologized for blowing up for no reason. He's learning! He realized that he blew up for no reason without my having to state that he blew up for no reason! Yeah!
At midnight he said "When do you want to have The Big Talk?" Ah, The Big Talk, the future, finances, when, where, what, is the resume ready, what if what if what if what if. I said "I don't know... there may not be time before my interview!" He said "We could talk in the car," and I said "I don't know... its sort of a serious conversation to be having in the car." He said as long as we had it on the highway it wouldn't be a problem. Then he said "How about now?"
Ugh. Midnight! I love that he is naive enough to think that a discussion about the future will take 5 minutes. I was like "I don't know..." groan etc. drunken distress.
He said "Well, I have some questions to ask you."
He asked questions, good ones, and I was able to answer them. Then we talked about money, and oh please for the love of god could I please be assertive enough next time to say "I'm drunk and tired and shouldn't really be talking about the future right now because I'm not coherent and I'm overemotional and insecure" because I get so overemotional and insecure when I drink, and I worry even more than usual. I either giggle and become the most confident person ever or I am plagued by thought and self-doubt and self-loathing. It was a self-loathing night that deteriorated into my ennumerating the thousands upon thousands of dollars I've lost by living in NYC for only two years, and how that was irresponsible, and how I'll never have it back, and how if I had it this wouldn't suck so bad right now, and how we were irresponsible, and how I am scared to death to basically get rid of all my remaining money when there's nothing secure in my life - family falling apart, parents who are either helpless or homeless, no safety net, relationship not set in stone, unsure of whether I'll be good at this, unsure if I'll like it, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc.
Differences in life philosophies. Apparently some people can dump their entire life's worth on a whim. I'm just not like that. I wish I was, but I get concerned.
The conversation ended warmly but I was up for another two hours (that's 4 am, folks!) having a crying-induced headache and worrying about turning... ahem... 31. How has this happened?
I realized this morning that the root of my concern is that I don't want to be irresponsible about this. I feel that I've been irresponsible for the last two years and it has to stop. And we will have to stop together. I articulated this before he left for work this morning, and he seemed to understand. I am not a person who does things without thinking them through, and I've been not thinking things through due to this relationship for long enough. I'm going to plan this, and have many plans about this, and nobdoy can stop me!
Mwa ha ha!
I'm still tense, but I feel resolute today.
Anyway.
Work is boring again today. Clearly. People are watching You Tube in the conference room.
And with that... I'm off. I'm off tomorrow on another forced vacation day and then I'm off to New England to visit family and friends and new babies!
I'll be back on the 2nd.
Happy Holidays to the one person who still reads The Elusive Pringle!
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
What's On My Mind
Thinking about the new Rocky movie. Experiencing great distress. I find it unsettling. I don't know why I find it unsettling, but I do.
Thinking about this weird dream I had last night, in which I was a tall, large gay man in love with D. I asked him to marry me. He said "yes."
Thinking about an equally weird dream I had the night before in which I was breast-feeding a baby that looked exactly like Sister when she was a baby. I don't think the baby was Sister, but still. Weird.
Thinking about D's voicemail that he wiped out hard and there are bruises and pains but the bike isn't damaged and that's what really matters and how am I supposed to not worry? And why doesn't he answer his phone?
Thinking about D inviting me out to a movie tonight with his female friend, a movie that I asked him to see this weekend. His response to my invite was "No, that seems more like a rental... I'll pass" but now that someone else wants to go he's all about it. Trying not to think too much about it, or think negatively. I suppose I should just be happy I'm invited, but still.
Thinking about going home to no home. I know she thinks its going to be wonderfully home-y but home is not a place to which you have to bring your own sheets and bed. It's just not. It's all wrong. Home is where you are taken care of, not where you have to do the grocery shopping and cooking and planning. I don't like this sort of visit, and I want to explain why but there are so many eggshells right now. If all goes according to plan this will be the last time I have to stay over, at least for a while, because hopefully next year we can just drive home afterwards or be in the sun somewhere else entirely, sleeping in a bed that was made and eating cereal the next morning that was already there. Sure, there may not be conversation but at least there is taking-care-of-guests happening.
Thinking about cleaning at work. I dumped a bunch of stuff today. I need to consolidate. I don't know if I'm doing it because its a new year or because I want to be organized in case I don't work here in a few months. Best to treat the wronged group right.
Thinking about the future. I have asked D if he could schedule an appointment with me to talk about possible scenarios prior to my interview. I want to know "If this, then this..." He may ask when I would enroll, and I don't know because I don't know what's going on. I don't know if we'll split up. I don't know if he'll come without a job. I don't know if I'll go without a job. I don't know about subletting. I only know the ideal scenario.
Thinking about how some people only consider the ideal scenario, and somehow their lives end up so much more ideal.
Thinking about how I wish I had that sort of confidence. I don't think he realizes that you don't just get a job the moment you apply.
Thinking about how I don't really care, because there's movement and movement is what matters. I have no patience for the stagnant when there are things that could be accomplished.
Thinking about how I wish I could be the sort of person who is still satisfied when things are stuck.
Thinking about how I need to save money.
Thinking about how I hate thinking about money. Ergh.
Thinking about how I should be trying to find a new pair of headphones, because they broke again. Third pair this year. It might be time to just invest in a good pair that costs a bit more but will last more than three months in my bag.
And with that, I'm going to google.
Until tomorrow...
Thinking about this weird dream I had last night, in which I was a tall, large gay man in love with D. I asked him to marry me. He said "yes."
Thinking about an equally weird dream I had the night before in which I was breast-feeding a baby that looked exactly like Sister when she was a baby. I don't think the baby was Sister, but still. Weird.
Thinking about D's voicemail that he wiped out hard and there are bruises and pains but the bike isn't damaged and that's what really matters and how am I supposed to not worry? And why doesn't he answer his phone?
Thinking about D inviting me out to a movie tonight with his female friend, a movie that I asked him to see this weekend. His response to my invite was "No, that seems more like a rental... I'll pass" but now that someone else wants to go he's all about it. Trying not to think too much about it, or think negatively. I suppose I should just be happy I'm invited, but still.
Thinking about going home to no home. I know she thinks its going to be wonderfully home-y but home is not a place to which you have to bring your own sheets and bed. It's just not. It's all wrong. Home is where you are taken care of, not where you have to do the grocery shopping and cooking and planning. I don't like this sort of visit, and I want to explain why but there are so many eggshells right now. If all goes according to plan this will be the last time I have to stay over, at least for a while, because hopefully next year we can just drive home afterwards or be in the sun somewhere else entirely, sleeping in a bed that was made and eating cereal the next morning that was already there. Sure, there may not be conversation but at least there is taking-care-of-guests happening.
Thinking about cleaning at work. I dumped a bunch of stuff today. I need to consolidate. I don't know if I'm doing it because its a new year or because I want to be organized in case I don't work here in a few months. Best to treat the wronged group right.
Thinking about the future. I have asked D if he could schedule an appointment with me to talk about possible scenarios prior to my interview. I want to know "If this, then this..." He may ask when I would enroll, and I don't know because I don't know what's going on. I don't know if we'll split up. I don't know if he'll come without a job. I don't know if I'll go without a job. I don't know about subletting. I only know the ideal scenario.
Thinking about how some people only consider the ideal scenario, and somehow their lives end up so much more ideal.
Thinking about how I wish I had that sort of confidence. I don't think he realizes that you don't just get a job the moment you apply.
Thinking about how I don't really care, because there's movement and movement is what matters. I have no patience for the stagnant when there are things that could be accomplished.
Thinking about how I wish I could be the sort of person who is still satisfied when things are stuck.
Thinking about how I need to save money.
Thinking about how I hate thinking about money. Ergh.
Thinking about how I should be trying to find a new pair of headphones, because they broke again. Third pair this year. It might be time to just invest in a good pair that costs a bit more but will last more than three months in my bag.
And with that, I'm going to google.
Until tomorrow...
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Wooze
I can't take another minute of being bored at work. The Boss doesn't feel like thinking until 2007. I respect this but I can't handle not having anything to do at work, especially when I'm not feeling my best. I've been feeling lightheaded/fuzzyheaded/woozyheaded/buzzingheaded for the past week and quite frankly I'm sick of it. I'm not sure if it is dietary, stress-related, or other (if this doesn't stop by 2007 I will make a doctor's appointment, I swear, only to be told to eat lots of nuts, because really, I'm thin and therefore there can't be anything wrong with me which is fine with me, but the nuts aren't working this time and I don't like this not one bit!), but it's wearing on me. I'd like to be alert! around the holidays, and alert! so as not to have to really really really struggle to stay awake at work when its a mere formality being here.
I don't feel Christmas-y at all this year. The weather? The lack of gifts? The holiday-related anxiety? The squashing of all holiday traditions? Not having a home to go home to? The almost-fainting all day long? Our party last week helped - I was Christmas-y for about two hours and then up all night after having had too much caffeine and rum but at least I wasn't feeling like I was going to faint. Maybe what I need to do is drink all the time and I'll be fine! Yeah!
The party was good. There was a child. She sat on the piano bench with me and demanded song after song. I felt responsible. I kept thinking "This might be something she remembers... what if she ends up turning into some nutjob who forces people to sing Christmas carols at her apartment when they're not quite drunk enough?" The pressure!
We also sang the entire late-80's, early-90's Disney catalogue. It always amazes me that the cops are not called.
I spent Friday feeling faint (yeah!). I didn't do much of anything, other than eat and nap and read. On Saturday I felt lightheaded (ooh!) and so slept in and then treated myself to a spontaneous viewing of The Drowsey Chaperone which was amazing amazing amazing! I found myself in the fourth row (thank you, TKTS) where there were other lonely people. See it, if you can. Dined with D's friends but was completely and utterly out of it due to head buzzing phenomenon. I know I keep complaining about this but I feel like I've just had a week of delirium during which I couldn't quite process anything. I think I am getting old, or suffering massive blood loss that I'm not aware of for some reason.
Sunday was phone calls and more phone calls and, again, feeling like crap. We went to see The Holiday which was the worst movie ever, because Cameron Diaz is the worst actress ever and her character was repulsive. The 3/4 of the movie that was Kate Winslet/Jack Black/Jude Law was charming, although the more and more we think about the Jude Law character the more horrified we become, even if he did cry convincingly onscreen and cause me to have a meltdown. We ate fondue and I passed out at like 10:00 due to, ahem, my head buzzing.
I was forced to take yesterday off without plans. I slept in although not as long as I'd have liked to since I was dreaming that it was 3:30 pm and I couldn't believe I'd wasted the entire day. I shopped and bought the best wallet ever that I keep taking out of my desk drawer to gaze upon. I also bought a dress (for the holidays - as in - maybe a new dress will help me feel festive!), which I am wearing now albeit over pants, because I will not show my legs at work, no matter how much crap I am given by coworkers. I didn't do much more than watch a movie and write/record the Christmas song, after which I had tapas with D, his cousin, and her friends who are 13 trillion years younger than us and are just as horrified by our age as we are by theirs. It's hilarious. I can't remember what I was like when I was 23 but I hope I wasn't like them.
We're going to see Mary Poppins tonight (hence the dress) so I ought to be applying lipstick for the big date.
Until tomorrow...
I don't feel Christmas-y at all this year. The weather? The lack of gifts? The holiday-related anxiety? The squashing of all holiday traditions? Not having a home to go home to? The almost-fainting all day long? Our party last week helped - I was Christmas-y for about two hours and then up all night after having had too much caffeine and rum but at least I wasn't feeling like I was going to faint. Maybe what I need to do is drink all the time and I'll be fine! Yeah!
The party was good. There was a child. She sat on the piano bench with me and demanded song after song. I felt responsible. I kept thinking "This might be something she remembers... what if she ends up turning into some nutjob who forces people to sing Christmas carols at her apartment when they're not quite drunk enough?" The pressure!
We also sang the entire late-80's, early-90's Disney catalogue. It always amazes me that the cops are not called.
I spent Friday feeling faint (yeah!). I didn't do much of anything, other than eat and nap and read. On Saturday I felt lightheaded (ooh!) and so slept in and then treated myself to a spontaneous viewing of The Drowsey Chaperone which was amazing amazing amazing! I found myself in the fourth row (thank you, TKTS) where there were other lonely people. See it, if you can. Dined with D's friends but was completely and utterly out of it due to head buzzing phenomenon. I know I keep complaining about this but I feel like I've just had a week of delirium during which I couldn't quite process anything. I think I am getting old, or suffering massive blood loss that I'm not aware of for some reason.
Sunday was phone calls and more phone calls and, again, feeling like crap. We went to see The Holiday which was the worst movie ever, because Cameron Diaz is the worst actress ever and her character was repulsive. The 3/4 of the movie that was Kate Winslet/Jack Black/Jude Law was charming, although the more and more we think about the Jude Law character the more horrified we become, even if he did cry convincingly onscreen and cause me to have a meltdown. We ate fondue and I passed out at like 10:00 due to, ahem, my head buzzing.
I was forced to take yesterday off without plans. I slept in although not as long as I'd have liked to since I was dreaming that it was 3:30 pm and I couldn't believe I'd wasted the entire day. I shopped and bought the best wallet ever that I keep taking out of my desk drawer to gaze upon. I also bought a dress (for the holidays - as in - maybe a new dress will help me feel festive!), which I am wearing now albeit over pants, because I will not show my legs at work, no matter how much crap I am given by coworkers. I didn't do much more than watch a movie and write/record the Christmas song, after which I had tapas with D, his cousin, and her friends who are 13 trillion years younger than us and are just as horrified by our age as we are by theirs. It's hilarious. I can't remember what I was like when I was 23 but I hope I wasn't like them.
We're going to see Mary Poppins tonight (hence the dress) so I ought to be applying lipstick for the big date.
Until tomorrow...
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
I Heart You, The Weather Channel Dot Com
Weatherchannel.com has new weather icons for the hourly forecast! Awesome!
Ligamentia
I'm not entirely thrilled with having a torn ligament in the toe. Not one bit. I don't have the luxury of keeping the stupid thing elevated. It's fine in the morning, but after a day at work dear god. Complain complain. More complaining because I have to clean, make spinach artichoke dip and bruschetta and pesto tonight, pick out an outfit and practice Christmas carols for the big soiree tomorrow night, during which I plan to drink away the toe pain.
The mid-week party is wonderful and without expectation, but it is occurring to me that I have invited 30 people over for 7:00 pm and that I will probably be getting out of work at 6:00. This means that there will be approximately half an hour to become presentable, straighten my hair, eat something, change outfits 18 times even though I will theoretically pick one tonight that I will of course hate by tomorrow and don't even mention what to do about shoes when your foot is grotesque!, cook four dishes, put stuff out, get organized, get Christmas-y, etc.
D and I agreed not to get each other presents, but last night he said "I have something to cheer you up about your toe!" and presented to me a present which could not be opened at that moment because its for Christmas. Bless him, but the pressure! Now I have to get him something but shopping and going for long walks when there exists the possibility that someone could step on my foot is not on my list of things-that-seen-pleasant right now. Plus, since we agreed not to get presents for one another I have put zero thought into what to get him.
Pressure! I nearly got away with not buying a single gift. Oh well.
Ah, the holidays.
Until tomorrow...
The mid-week party is wonderful and without expectation, but it is occurring to me that I have invited 30 people over for 7:00 pm and that I will probably be getting out of work at 6:00. This means that there will be approximately half an hour to become presentable, straighten my hair, eat something, change outfits 18 times even though I will theoretically pick one tonight that I will of course hate by tomorrow and don't even mention what to do about shoes when your foot is grotesque!, cook four dishes, put stuff out, get organized, get Christmas-y, etc.
D and I agreed not to get each other presents, but last night he said "I have something to cheer you up about your toe!" and presented to me a present which could not be opened at that moment because its for Christmas. Bless him, but the pressure! Now I have to get him something but shopping and going for long walks when there exists the possibility that someone could step on my foot is not on my list of things-that-seen-pleasant right now. Plus, since we agreed not to get presents for one another I have put zero thought into what to get him.
Pressure! I nearly got away with not buying a single gift. Oh well.
Ah, the holidays.
Until tomorrow...
Monday, December 11, 2006
Googling
Why do I insist on googling people from my past? No good can come from this! You might not find the person - bad result. This is always the case with introverted people from high school with whom I am still fascinated and still cannot gain access to. You might find the person you miss - bad result! It's not like you're going to contact them because that would be weird. Or is it? I found someone from college - someone who I shouldn't even remember but I was telling a story a while back that involved him and I thought "What ever happened to that guy?" Now I know where he works. And his email address. You might find the person you hate - and find out that they are happy! - and be forced to look at a picture of that asshole. Ergh.
Anyway.
I was watching a documentary this weekend and I swear that someone I used to work with was in it, so I googled him to see if I could find any indication of whether it was him, and now I am vexed, because I could email him, but do I want to? No! Should I? Yes! Because his email is on the web for all to see!
The weekend was good.
I slept in on Friday, then went to the dentist where I learned that I do not have any cavities as suspected. Woot! I was told to floss every day. Really. I was given a zillion small flosses and a toothbrush that won't fit in my toothbrush holder. It was freezing out, which made my failed quest for a nativity set that much more frustrating. I tried KMart (I haven't been in a KMart in years, I think, and KMart is becoming Target-ized - there are actually nice things, thanks to Martha, I imagine) but there were no mangers. Only piles and piles of beautiful Martha-designed Christmas ornaments and tree skirts and other things I wanted to buy. I managed to convince myself that having a Christmas tree this year is unrealistic due to cost - lights, stand, skirt, garland, ornaments, ahem. Yes, these things are one-time purchases but its just not the right year. I left KMart without sparkly blue bulbs and walked across the street to Macy's, which was beautiful but lame because there were no nativity sets. I had to battle tourists on the escalator and then elevator for 8.5 floors to find this out. The horror, the horror. Back at home I ate a lame sandwich and practiced Christmas carols in preparation for the party this week! When D came home from his half day, we braved the cold and made a huge decision. We celebrated by watching Clerks 2 and going to bed early as we were spent from big decisions, cold, and the apartment being 55 degrees.
Saturday was not terribly productive. Unplanned phone calls, missed brunch, Bust craft fair in Williamsburg (where I purchased no gifts as this is going to be a giftless Christmas by design so instead bought the best. butter. dish. ever.) where I felt terribly uncool and old and disgusting, soup and hot chocolate with NR, cleaning the apartment to immaculateness, more decisions but this time smaller and EBay-related (I have become addicted!), more cleaning, documentary, sleep and lots of it.
I opted not to go to a movie yesterday in favor of staying in, sleeping more, and practicing carols. I was unproductive due to stomach issues and also the fact that my toe might be broken. I got out of bed and jammed it on the keyboard in my bedroom. I have stubbed my toe approximately 4,324 times in my bedroom - either on D's side of the bed or on the keyboard, but this time my toe is purple and seems not to want to move anymore. Also it hurts. All the time. Hmmmm. I read a bit, and then headed out with D to the Matt Damon taping of Inside the Actor's Studio, which was awesome and insightful and the MA-pride level is insane right now, which is timely given that soon I will most likely be a resident again. He had wonderful anecdotes and I feel like I could direct a movie now. Best was his humbleness. We went for drinks afterwards and I had a martini in the manner of organic vodka/ginger/carrot juice/lime juice and mint that was not very good. The salad was, however. The conversation took a turn for the ugly when the subject was changed from "I was thinking about if we move and the rent because I won't have any income I was thinking..." to "Did I ever tell you about how in Saudi Arabia my friend and I used to shake soda cans and then open them and throw them into the air?" and then red flags going up and of course "You can't make these huge decisions without talking to me about them!" It ended well and I always know that our life philosophies are so very different but sometimes I have to think about my own life. I take my time with big decisions. He makes up his mind instantly and then delivers. And doesn't tell anyone that his mind has changed and that their lives will change accordingly. I admire this in many ways, I just want to be part of it instead of tagging along. He says "I can't be held to things I said before." I say "Unless you tell me that your mind has changed you can't expect me to be psychic - I would just assume that what you told me last about the topic still holds."
The conversation was constructive and I feel better. I feel part of things. I know he has me in mind when he makes these decisions. He makes assumptions about what I want, and that's very sweet, but per his point, things change and the last time we talked about this was, like, March. The Worst Day Ever hadn't happened yet, and moving now is very different from moving before. I think its the right thing, but I need to understand what it is before I commit to it.
I have to sell the piano. I have to buy another one. I need to look for a job. Or not. I don't know when we'd go. I don't know if he's looking for a job. He said he'd leave as soon as he got one. What would we do with our current apartment? Would I stay and work?
He knows it will be fine. It will be, but I want to be prepared. I want to make the most money possible before I stop making money. I want to be excited. I want to apply to school if this is really happening. I want to be able to talk about finances because you need to be able to talk about finances before you do something like this. Like what sort of apartment can we afford? What do we each want?
What is going on?
Anyway.
It's fine. It's going to be fine. It's just overwhelming and I am unprepared. And if its really happening, I want to prepare.
Did you know that it came upon a midnight clear? That's what the radio keeps telling me, over and over again.
Anyway.
I was watching a documentary this weekend and I swear that someone I used to work with was in it, so I googled him to see if I could find any indication of whether it was him, and now I am vexed, because I could email him, but do I want to? No! Should I? Yes! Because his email is on the web for all to see!
The weekend was good.
I slept in on Friday, then went to the dentist where I learned that I do not have any cavities as suspected. Woot! I was told to floss every day. Really. I was given a zillion small flosses and a toothbrush that won't fit in my toothbrush holder. It was freezing out, which made my failed quest for a nativity set that much more frustrating. I tried KMart (I haven't been in a KMart in years, I think, and KMart is becoming Target-ized - there are actually nice things, thanks to Martha, I imagine) but there were no mangers. Only piles and piles of beautiful Martha-designed Christmas ornaments and tree skirts and other things I wanted to buy. I managed to convince myself that having a Christmas tree this year is unrealistic due to cost - lights, stand, skirt, garland, ornaments, ahem. Yes, these things are one-time purchases but its just not the right year. I left KMart without sparkly blue bulbs and walked across the street to Macy's, which was beautiful but lame because there were no nativity sets. I had to battle tourists on the escalator and then elevator for 8.5 floors to find this out. The horror, the horror. Back at home I ate a lame sandwich and practiced Christmas carols in preparation for the party this week! When D came home from his half day, we braved the cold and made a huge decision. We celebrated by watching Clerks 2 and going to bed early as we were spent from big decisions, cold, and the apartment being 55 degrees.
Saturday was not terribly productive. Unplanned phone calls, missed brunch, Bust craft fair in Williamsburg (where I purchased no gifts as this is going to be a giftless Christmas by design so instead bought the best. butter. dish. ever.) where I felt terribly uncool and old and disgusting, soup and hot chocolate with NR, cleaning the apartment to immaculateness, more decisions but this time smaller and EBay-related (I have become addicted!), more cleaning, documentary, sleep and lots of it.
I opted not to go to a movie yesterday in favor of staying in, sleeping more, and practicing carols. I was unproductive due to stomach issues and also the fact that my toe might be broken. I got out of bed and jammed it on the keyboard in my bedroom. I have stubbed my toe approximately 4,324 times in my bedroom - either on D's side of the bed or on the keyboard, but this time my toe is purple and seems not to want to move anymore. Also it hurts. All the time. Hmmmm. I read a bit, and then headed out with D to the Matt Damon taping of Inside the Actor's Studio, which was awesome and insightful and the MA-pride level is insane right now, which is timely given that soon I will most likely be a resident again. He had wonderful anecdotes and I feel like I could direct a movie now. Best was his humbleness. We went for drinks afterwards and I had a martini in the manner of organic vodka/ginger/carrot juice/lime juice and mint that was not very good. The salad was, however. The conversation took a turn for the ugly when the subject was changed from "I was thinking about if we move and the rent because I won't have any income I was thinking..." to "Did I ever tell you about how in Saudi Arabia my friend and I used to shake soda cans and then open them and throw them into the air?" and then red flags going up and of course "You can't make these huge decisions without talking to me about them!" It ended well and I always know that our life philosophies are so very different but sometimes I have to think about my own life. I take my time with big decisions. He makes up his mind instantly and then delivers. And doesn't tell anyone that his mind has changed and that their lives will change accordingly. I admire this in many ways, I just want to be part of it instead of tagging along. He says "I can't be held to things I said before." I say "Unless you tell me that your mind has changed you can't expect me to be psychic - I would just assume that what you told me last about the topic still holds."
The conversation was constructive and I feel better. I feel part of things. I know he has me in mind when he makes these decisions. He makes assumptions about what I want, and that's very sweet, but per his point, things change and the last time we talked about this was, like, March. The Worst Day Ever hadn't happened yet, and moving now is very different from moving before. I think its the right thing, but I need to understand what it is before I commit to it.
I have to sell the piano. I have to buy another one. I need to look for a job. Or not. I don't know when we'd go. I don't know if he's looking for a job. He said he'd leave as soon as he got one. What would we do with our current apartment? Would I stay and work?
He knows it will be fine. It will be, but I want to be prepared. I want to make the most money possible before I stop making money. I want to be excited. I want to apply to school if this is really happening. I want to be able to talk about finances because you need to be able to talk about finances before you do something like this. Like what sort of apartment can we afford? What do we each want?
What is going on?
Anyway.
It's fine. It's going to be fine. It's just overwhelming and I am unprepared. And if its really happening, I want to prepare.
Did you know that it came upon a midnight clear? That's what the radio keeps telling me, over and over again.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Holiday Party #3 - NYC Has Become Unromantic
Michael Bolton is singing about Christmas right now.
***
I witnessed the most atrocious thing this morning. After getting off the subway at Spring Street, I was trailing a woman - tall, glamorous, perfectly groomed, walking with complete determination. So determined, in fact, that she decided to bust right through the emergency door rather than negotiate the turnstile with we plebians. I watched her do this, certain she'd turn around, horrified after having set off the alarm, apologetic to her fellow commuters. But did she? Oh no. She didn't even flinch.
I suppressed my commuter rage and looked to fellow commuters for a shared roll of the eyes or shrug of the shoulders, but they were nonresponsive, typical New Yorkers, completely withdrawn so as not to go insane.
***
The sort-of company party was last night. We paid for it ourselves since things are a mess and the party has been cancelled. The DJ wasn't starting until 9:00, so we hooked up our IPods in the bar. As we got more and more drunk, people wanted to dance, so I volunteered mine and put on the Going Away Dance Mix, September 2004.
Awwww yeah.
There's nothing better than hearing your IPod rocking the bar, seeing people smile, watching people dance.
It was a little weird, though, for a variety of reasons. Weirdness #1: Summer 2004. Old school. Toxic. People seemed unphased by the datedness. It tripped me out and reminded me of Boston. Weirdness #2: Thinking of being back in Boston because of music that reminded me of leaving Boston at my last company function before being back in Boston.
***
I know there are things that he doesn't know that everyone else in the whole world knows, and that these things are not personal. I know he loves me and I know he doesn't mean anything by these things. But lord sometimes I reach explosion points, and I reached one last night.
Ironic given that our anniversary is the company party.
People in relationships behave in certain ways. No, I take that back. People in good relationships behave in certain ways. I always thought that maybe I was being insecure or hyper-sensitive but when other people point things out to you, you realize you've been underreacting.
It's fine now, but it wasn't last night.
***
I am off tomorrow because they force you to use your unused vacation time or otherwise it disappears. Sweet!
***
Until next week...
***
I witnessed the most atrocious thing this morning. After getting off the subway at Spring Street, I was trailing a woman - tall, glamorous, perfectly groomed, walking with complete determination. So determined, in fact, that she decided to bust right through the emergency door rather than negotiate the turnstile with we plebians. I watched her do this, certain she'd turn around, horrified after having set off the alarm, apologetic to her fellow commuters. But did she? Oh no. She didn't even flinch.
I suppressed my commuter rage and looked to fellow commuters for a shared roll of the eyes or shrug of the shoulders, but they were nonresponsive, typical New Yorkers, completely withdrawn so as not to go insane.
***
The sort-of company party was last night. We paid for it ourselves since things are a mess and the party has been cancelled. The DJ wasn't starting until 9:00, so we hooked up our IPods in the bar. As we got more and more drunk, people wanted to dance, so I volunteered mine and put on the Going Away Dance Mix, September 2004.
Awwww yeah.
There's nothing better than hearing your IPod rocking the bar, seeing people smile, watching people dance.
It was a little weird, though, for a variety of reasons. Weirdness #1: Summer 2004. Old school. Toxic. People seemed unphased by the datedness. It tripped me out and reminded me of Boston. Weirdness #2: Thinking of being back in Boston because of music that reminded me of leaving Boston at my last company function before being back in Boston.
***
I know there are things that he doesn't know that everyone else in the whole world knows, and that these things are not personal. I know he loves me and I know he doesn't mean anything by these things. But lord sometimes I reach explosion points, and I reached one last night.
Ironic given that our anniversary is the company party.
People in relationships behave in certain ways. No, I take that back. People in good relationships behave in certain ways. I always thought that maybe I was being insecure or hyper-sensitive but when other people point things out to you, you realize you've been underreacting.
It's fine now, but it wasn't last night.
***
I am off tomorrow because they force you to use your unused vacation time or otherwise it disappears. Sweet!
***
Until next week...
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
It Has Begun
8.5 hours a day of Christmas music.
It's acceptable now, but next week... prepare for the madness.
It's acceptable now, but next week... prepare for the madness.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Annoyed
It's not so much what he did that's bothersome to people. It's what he was like before it even happened, and what he's still like. This is what he doesn't understand, and this is why he will always find himself alone. He can't accept responsibility for any of it, and there is so much he has done wrong over decades.
It is complicated, annoying, and right now I'm enraged about money. I'm freaking out about the future. D and I had a conversation about the rent issue (and yes, it seems that the landlord is breaking the law but at this point we're so fried from being New Yorkers that it might just be time to leave) and things are going to change. And change requires money, and lots of it.
He owes me money. He is very good at playing the victim, but he owes me money, and to me its a big sum, a sum that could really help in this transition. To me it's more than money - it means less worrying, less stress, feeling less trapped, and remorse.
We have been talking about lines in the sand. We all have different lines. I drew mine a long time ago, before everyone else did. I said "This is what it is" and accepted it. But sometimes the line becomes a wall, and I don't want my wall to be money but I think the wall isn't money itself but what the money represents.
Because don't normal parents try to help their kids out with downpayments and things like that rather than contribute to their being nervous about money?
I think this is a valid wall, because why should I be kind and supportive and sympathetic when he can't be generous and reasonable to his own child? After all that he's done?
I am going to demand the money, and the result will hopefully be retribution. The result might be a wall, and that's not what I want. What I want is to feel about him the way so many people about their fathers, and he makes it impossible. And then he gets all pitiful and sad and wants us to pity him when its his own fault.
Ah, I love these sorts of moods on Monday mornings!
A better entry later...
It is complicated, annoying, and right now I'm enraged about money. I'm freaking out about the future. D and I had a conversation about the rent issue (and yes, it seems that the landlord is breaking the law but at this point we're so fried from being New Yorkers that it might just be time to leave) and things are going to change. And change requires money, and lots of it.
He owes me money. He is very good at playing the victim, but he owes me money, and to me its a big sum, a sum that could really help in this transition. To me it's more than money - it means less worrying, less stress, feeling less trapped, and remorse.
We have been talking about lines in the sand. We all have different lines. I drew mine a long time ago, before everyone else did. I said "This is what it is" and accepted it. But sometimes the line becomes a wall, and I don't want my wall to be money but I think the wall isn't money itself but what the money represents.
Because don't normal parents try to help their kids out with downpayments and things like that rather than contribute to their being nervous about money?
I think this is a valid wall, because why should I be kind and supportive and sympathetic when he can't be generous and reasonable to his own child? After all that he's done?
I am going to demand the money, and the result will hopefully be retribution. The result might be a wall, and that's not what I want. What I want is to feel about him the way so many people about their fathers, and he makes it impossible. And then he gets all pitiful and sad and wants us to pity him when its his own fault.
Ah, I love these sorts of moods on Monday mornings!
A better entry later...
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Apartment Issues, As Always
I am back from Playa Del Carmen and things have quickly become the usual. Busy at work, stressed out in the city, smothered by socializing, freaking out about the lack of free time. I would give an arm to be reading on the beach right now.
We got a letter in the mail last night indicating that we have 30 days to decide whether or not we want to renew our lease on April 6th, 2007.
Wtf?
First of all, I think the landlord is doing something sketchy. The rent increase is a high percentage, and I am pretty sure our apartment is still stabilized given what we pay for it.
Second of all, it's not even December! How am I supposed to know what I want to do four months from now?
Third of all, how can I commit to this without knowing if I'm getting a raise this year? The increase is a significant amount of money, and combined with finally becoming legitimate and paying for internet, its enough to make me nervous.
Fourth of all, I feel like this is an intimidation tactic by the landlord. I don't like it. It really rubs me the wrong way. I've been reading a bit about it and it seems that with regards to rent stabilized apartments, the landlords are legally obliged to send this letter (albeit 60 - 90 days in advance, not 180) but we don't necessarily have to respond to it. Websites recommend leaving a paper trail because more often than not landlords are trying to screw you.
Fifth of all, the relationship pressure. For the love of god I have no idea how things will be in freaking April! How can I commit to something in April? As if it wasn't bad enough having every single person in Cancun ask us if we were married, and the resultant nervous shuffling, and the "Uhh... heheheh... " and the uncertain giggling. And then coming back and being asked if I'm engaged. And then being demanded to commit to living together for another 16 months.
I'm cross. I wish I was rich so (a) rent increases wouldn't be an issue and (b) I had a lawyer with whom I could discuss the potentially shady dealings of my landlord.
And I'm cross because I'm back at work, and busy.
And I'm cross because I'm already exhausted. New York destroys me instantly.
Much work to do.
Until tomorrow...
We got a letter in the mail last night indicating that we have 30 days to decide whether or not we want to renew our lease on April 6th, 2007.
Wtf?
First of all, I think the landlord is doing something sketchy. The rent increase is a high percentage, and I am pretty sure our apartment is still stabilized given what we pay for it.
Second of all, it's not even December! How am I supposed to know what I want to do four months from now?
Third of all, how can I commit to this without knowing if I'm getting a raise this year? The increase is a significant amount of money, and combined with finally becoming legitimate and paying for internet, its enough to make me nervous.
Fourth of all, I feel like this is an intimidation tactic by the landlord. I don't like it. It really rubs me the wrong way. I've been reading a bit about it and it seems that with regards to rent stabilized apartments, the landlords are legally obliged to send this letter (albeit 60 - 90 days in advance, not 180) but we don't necessarily have to respond to it. Websites recommend leaving a paper trail because more often than not landlords are trying to screw you.
Fifth of all, the relationship pressure. For the love of god I have no idea how things will be in freaking April! How can I commit to something in April? As if it wasn't bad enough having every single person in Cancun ask us if we were married, and the resultant nervous shuffling, and the "Uhh... heheheh... " and the uncertain giggling. And then coming back and being asked if I'm engaged. And then being demanded to commit to living together for another 16 months.
I'm cross. I wish I was rich so (a) rent increases wouldn't be an issue and (b) I had a lawyer with whom I could discuss the potentially shady dealings of my landlord.
And I'm cross because I'm back at work, and busy.
And I'm cross because I'm already exhausted. New York destroys me instantly.
Much work to do.
Until tomorrow...
Thursday, November 16, 2006
SPF 15 Packets From Work
I planned a light day at work so I would have time to contemplate fluid ounces and party cloudy weather reports.
I am trying to decide if I should check a bag or purchase zip loc bags. I don't even know if everything I want to bring will fit in a carry-on. The accursed camera(s) ruin(s) everything. As do the six books I am bringing. But I am bringing only bathing suits and light clothes and flip flops and possibly one extra pair of sneakers, because I refuse to pack fancy clothes and fancy shoes when going on a relaxing vacation. I think it will all fit in the small suitcase. But then the zip loc issue. I have to bring sunscreen and it kills me to have to buy it again when I already have enough to last me eternity given how much New Yorkers go swimming in the summer.
We leave tomorrow at 7:15 for my first ever relaxing vacation. I will be swimming up to the pool to get drinks and won't think that I am a dweeb, because I won't be thinking about anything at all! I would be really excited about this if I had any energy, but boring days at work drain me.
I am also busily contemplating a pet peeve of mine, which is when someone says "I will call you on such-and-such-a-day at such-and-such-a-time" and then don't! Why do that to someone? I realize this is to make the person feel better about himself or herself, but it makes the other person feel terrible because they will ultimately be disappointed after looking forward to something. Someone promised something yesterday and we are all freaking out today because we still haven't heard. I really wanted to wrap this up before leaving for vacation, but I guess I'll have to remain hanging. I hate when people tease.
Teasing is definitely in my top 5 pet peeves.
Another pet peeve of mine is when there are 4 zillion available seats on the subway and someone chooses to sit right next to me.
Still another is the promise of a petite line online, only to learn that most pants are not available in petite, and even when they are, and you put them in your cart at 6:00 one night because you don't have time to order them, they are no longer available by the following morning. Where can a girl get a pair of black pants for the love of god!?
I'm not sure how I feel about skinny pants. Inherently I think that they are hideous, but I have this suspicion that they may look half decent on me because they might not actually be skinny. I wouldn't know, though, because I can't find any that fit.
One pet love is when a CD you ordered arrives way sooner than you expected, and before vacation! Yeah!
Another pet love is online quizzes. Apparently I know nothing about the factors that predict whether or not a marriage will work. I think the only question I got right was about whether it was easier for a person who grew up with divorced parents or a person who grew up with fighting/lame/mismatched/neurotic/codependent/poor role model parents to maintain healthy relationships/marriages as adults.
One pet peeve is poor communication, and another is sole responsibility for communicating. There are so many things that I don't know about him that he knows about me, such as career aspirations. How can I not know these things?
Another pet love is jokes at work. Somebody sent me an email yesterday just to mess with me, and it made my week. Of course I subsequently had a dream about him that woke me up with a start. And then, of course, I had another and another. I know what it all means.
I was thinking about Father Figure as a concept (not as a song) on the way to work this morning. Why do some people look for it and others retreat from it? If you're not used to being taken care of, you either desperately want someone to take care of and pay attention to you or you get annoyed when someone takes care of you or pays too much attention to you. I think in relationships I end up being the latter and choose men who won't even notice me because that's what I grew up with (and then ultimately get annoyed that he's too busy or not listening to what I say or not paying attention to the relationship, even though this is ultimately what I selected him for in the first place), but then I dream about someone totally different.
A pet love is doting fathers. I wonder how wives feel about that. It must be hard at the beginning, but maybe you don't even notice because you're too busy doting too.
OK. I am going to stop now because I need to walk a bit so I don't fall asleep.
I'm off to Mexico, kids, so the blog won't be back until the Monday after Thanksgiving as I am officially without internet at home. Darn you, savvy neighbors, for shutting me out! I deserve it, and I shouldn't complain, but its making me sad. So no blog, no photos, no music. Nothing. I had no idea how much of my existence had been transferred to the web. Weird.
Enjoy Thanksgiving and time with your families!
Until next time...
I am trying to decide if I should check a bag or purchase zip loc bags. I don't even know if everything I want to bring will fit in a carry-on. The accursed camera(s) ruin(s) everything. As do the six books I am bringing. But I am bringing only bathing suits and light clothes and flip flops and possibly one extra pair of sneakers, because I refuse to pack fancy clothes and fancy shoes when going on a relaxing vacation. I think it will all fit in the small suitcase. But then the zip loc issue. I have to bring sunscreen and it kills me to have to buy it again when I already have enough to last me eternity given how much New Yorkers go swimming in the summer.
We leave tomorrow at 7:15 for my first ever relaxing vacation. I will be swimming up to the pool to get drinks and won't think that I am a dweeb, because I won't be thinking about anything at all! I would be really excited about this if I had any energy, but boring days at work drain me.
I am also busily contemplating a pet peeve of mine, which is when someone says "I will call you on such-and-such-a-day at such-and-such-a-time" and then don't! Why do that to someone? I realize this is to make the person feel better about himself or herself, but it makes the other person feel terrible because they will ultimately be disappointed after looking forward to something. Someone promised something yesterday and we are all freaking out today because we still haven't heard. I really wanted to wrap this up before leaving for vacation, but I guess I'll have to remain hanging. I hate when people tease.
Teasing is definitely in my top 5 pet peeves.
Another pet peeve of mine is when there are 4 zillion available seats on the subway and someone chooses to sit right next to me.
Still another is the promise of a petite line online, only to learn that most pants are not available in petite, and even when they are, and you put them in your cart at 6:00 one night because you don't have time to order them, they are no longer available by the following morning. Where can a girl get a pair of black pants for the love of god!?
I'm not sure how I feel about skinny pants. Inherently I think that they are hideous, but I have this suspicion that they may look half decent on me because they might not actually be skinny. I wouldn't know, though, because I can't find any that fit.
One pet love is when a CD you ordered arrives way sooner than you expected, and before vacation! Yeah!
Another pet love is online quizzes. Apparently I know nothing about the factors that predict whether or not a marriage will work. I think the only question I got right was about whether it was easier for a person who grew up with divorced parents or a person who grew up with fighting/lame/mismatched/neurotic/codependent/poor role model parents to maintain healthy relationships/marriages as adults.
One pet peeve is poor communication, and another is sole responsibility for communicating. There are so many things that I don't know about him that he knows about me, such as career aspirations. How can I not know these things?
Another pet love is jokes at work. Somebody sent me an email yesterday just to mess with me, and it made my week. Of course I subsequently had a dream about him that woke me up with a start. And then, of course, I had another and another. I know what it all means.
I was thinking about Father Figure as a concept (not as a song) on the way to work this morning. Why do some people look for it and others retreat from it? If you're not used to being taken care of, you either desperately want someone to take care of and pay attention to you or you get annoyed when someone takes care of you or pays too much attention to you. I think in relationships I end up being the latter and choose men who won't even notice me because that's what I grew up with (and then ultimately get annoyed that he's too busy or not listening to what I say or not paying attention to the relationship, even though this is ultimately what I selected him for in the first place), but then I dream about someone totally different.
A pet love is doting fathers. I wonder how wives feel about that. It must be hard at the beginning, but maybe you don't even notice because you're too busy doting too.
OK. I am going to stop now because I need to walk a bit so I don't fall asleep.
I'm off to Mexico, kids, so the blog won't be back until the Monday after Thanksgiving as I am officially without internet at home. Darn you, savvy neighbors, for shutting me out! I deserve it, and I shouldn't complain, but its making me sad. So no blog, no photos, no music. Nothing. I had no idea how much of my existence had been transferred to the web. Weird.
Enjoy Thanksgiving and time with your families!
Until next time...
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
My Tuesday Night
6:00 Left work, starving, but excited about low-carb broccoli casserole!
6:10 Went to CVS and in order to use fabulous $4 off any purchase of $20 or more ended up buying more than intended.
6:30 Took train to Amish Market.
6:45 Lugged CVS bags to Amish Market in the rain.
6:46 Maneuvered around Amish Market like insane person with CVS bags.
6:55 Denied cream of celery soup!
7:00 Purchased potato/leek soup as substitute as potato/leek soup tends to be more creamy than potato-y when purchased in can or box form.
7:05 Lugged CVS bags and many Amish Market bags home in the now pouring rain.
7:13 Changed clothes.
7:15 Set stove for 325. Encountered difficulty when actual temperature of oven was 450. Screamed a few times.
7:30 Assembled broccoli casserole with finesse!
7:40 Screamed a few times more when opened potato/leek soup only to learn that brand of potato/leek soup purchased was basically a solid. Curses!
7:45 Shut off oven (now a perfect 325).
7:55 Walked to three convenience stores in torrential downpours.
8:00 Swam to Food Emporium and bought only cream of celery soup, and thought I should be allowed to steal it because dear god I didn’t want to wait in line to purchase one freaking can of soup given the night I’d been having.
8:04 Greeted by annoyed look by cashier who perhaps disapproved of single can of soup purchase.
8:10 Swam home.
8:12 Changed again.
8:13 Turned stove dial to point where temperature had previously yielded 325.
8:15 Finished casserole half-recipe only to learn that it wasn’t nearly enough food for a meal (or volume to actually fill the small casserole dish).
8:20 Remade casserole.
8:25 Waited for stupid freaking stove to be 325, because at this point it decided not to go above 250.
8:30 Put casserole in.
9:15 Checked with knife – hadn’t cooked at all! OF COURSE!
9:16 Turned up heat.
9:36 Still hadn’t cooked at all!
9:40 – 9:50 Checked again! And then again! And then still again!
STARVING TO DEATH!
10:00 Ate Lucky Charms and salad and cooked casserole for another half an hour on 425 (because yes, 325 actually seems really low and no, I will never ever ever make a broccoli casserole involving eggs ever ever again).
10:20 D ate casserole and didn’t die, so eggs were most likely cooked.
Last night I made goat cheese ravioli with a sage/butter/cream sauce with chunks of butternut squash and was reassured that at time cooking works.
6:10 Went to CVS and in order to use fabulous $4 off any purchase of $20 or more ended up buying more than intended.
6:30 Took train to Amish Market.
6:45 Lugged CVS bags to Amish Market in the rain.
6:46 Maneuvered around Amish Market like insane person with CVS bags.
6:55 Denied cream of celery soup!
7:00 Purchased potato/leek soup as substitute as potato/leek soup tends to be more creamy than potato-y when purchased in can or box form.
7:05 Lugged CVS bags and many Amish Market bags home in the now pouring rain.
7:13 Changed clothes.
7:15 Set stove for 325. Encountered difficulty when actual temperature of oven was 450. Screamed a few times.
7:30 Assembled broccoli casserole with finesse!
7:40 Screamed a few times more when opened potato/leek soup only to learn that brand of potato/leek soup purchased was basically a solid. Curses!
7:45 Shut off oven (now a perfect 325).
7:55 Walked to three convenience stores in torrential downpours.
8:00 Swam to Food Emporium and bought only cream of celery soup, and thought I should be allowed to steal it because dear god I didn’t want to wait in line to purchase one freaking can of soup given the night I’d been having.
8:04 Greeted by annoyed look by cashier who perhaps disapproved of single can of soup purchase.
8:10 Swam home.
8:12 Changed again.
8:13 Turned stove dial to point where temperature had previously yielded 325.
8:15 Finished casserole half-recipe only to learn that it wasn’t nearly enough food for a meal (or volume to actually fill the small casserole dish).
8:20 Remade casserole.
8:25 Waited for stupid freaking stove to be 325, because at this point it decided not to go above 250.
8:30 Put casserole in.
9:15 Checked with knife – hadn’t cooked at all! OF COURSE!
9:16 Turned up heat.
9:36 Still hadn’t cooked at all!
9:40 – 9:50 Checked again! And then again! And then still again!
STARVING TO DEATH!
10:00 Ate Lucky Charms and salad and cooked casserole for another half an hour on 425 (because yes, 325 actually seems really low and no, I will never ever ever make a broccoli casserole involving eggs ever ever again).
10:20 D ate casserole and didn’t die, so eggs were most likely cooked.
Last night I made goat cheese ravioli with a sage/butter/cream sauce with chunks of butternut squash and was reassured that at time cooking works.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Monday, November 13, 2006
Umbrellas
Why do all the awesome umbrellas have to be from the UK? I just found foud umbrellas that I really want but it costs more to ship them than the cost of four umbrellas. I can rationalize buying four umbrellas because I will lose them all within one year's time, and a girl needs replacement umbrellas in this town!
The weekend was good. Real good.
It started Thursday night with D's friends, one visiting from Madrid and one from Santa Barbera. Both were delightful. We ate dinner out and had drinks and walked through Times Square and went to the Mac Store where they both bought the new Shuffle and then to Max Brenner(if there is such a thing as too much chocolate, this is it) and then home where their attitudes were lovely about participating in my new art project.
I took a half day on Friday as Sister originally planned to arrive by noon. She didn't, so I had time to read and clean the bathroom.
The main theme of the weekend (aside from Sibling Awesomeness!) was piss poor service. We ate dinner at Roberto Passon, which was previously awesome but is now low on the list. Well, not so. I'll still eat there because the food is amazing - pumpkin sage ravioli, folks - but still. We waited for 20 minutes for a table, and when we sat down, weren't served for 30 minutes. Which would have been acceptable given how crowded it was, except that the table next to us, which was seated ten minutes after us, received their drinks, bread, spreads, and appetizers before anyone even gave us water. There was also the Curb Your Enthusiasm moment when the waiter was chatting with them and had his butt on my bread. The waiter never brought us an ice bucket for our white wine (again, not a big deal except that he said he'd bring one), we had to ask for spreads for the bread, and when we asked for more it never came. Sister and I are lightweights, and were asleep by 10:30 thanks to the wine.
We slept in on Saturday (Sister got 11 hours!), chatted, listened to old mix CDs and remembered how things used to be. We got dressed and had brunch at 44 SW, which is great because of homemade mini muffins but we got stranded because the absentee waitress never came to get my credit card. Brother was waiting for us at Penn Station and we were late because of the bill issue. We ended up tipping less with the cash we had so we could get out of there.
We met Brother at Penn Station and took the 3 to The Brooklyn Museum, which was unbearable because it was running local. I had a New York moment where I nearly kicked a woman who's train etiquette offended me. The Ron Mueck show was amazing. We stayed to watch the documentary. The Annie Liebovitz show was also amazing, but it was too crowded to see everything. The watercolor exhibit was nuts in a good way, which makes me sad because nobody was looking at it.
Back in the city, we decided on an early dinner because we were all starving to death. We met D and his friend from Madrid at the newly renovated Film Center Cafe. We were seated immediately and nobody came to our table for half an hour. No water, no waitress, nothing. Poor Brother nearly died of starvation! When we finally ordered, we waited for a long time before the appetizer came. And then 45 minutes between appetizer and main course. We left a small tip, and did I feel bad? No! Because no restaurant experience that starts at 5:45 pm on a Saturday night should require two hours when there are no drinks and desserts involved.
We ended up being half an hour late meeting people for drinks at Hi Fi. I was blissed out by friends meeting friends, friends from high school, friends from MA, family, friends I'd only had for two days, friends from class, friends of friends, friends from work... I caught up with a bunch of people I hadn't seen in a while, and we headed to Sing Sing for the karaoke party of the century.
Amazing time had! Lionel Ritchie's All Night Long! NKOTB! Hot Hot Heat! Milli Vanilli! 80's songs galore! Drunkenness! Loudness! Shy people grabbing the mic! I kept saying "I have such an amazing life..." and realized that I don't want to move. Being settled is such a wonderful feeling.
Of course there was drama with the bill. I don't recommend trying to count $700 in cash while drunk in a karaoke bar when you're pissed off about having to pay an automatic 18.75% gratuity on a room where the freaking waiter only showed his face twice in 5 hours' time. We were freaking out. Sister was being assertive. I was appreciative but couldn't deal. NR told them that things were "unacceptable" but we had no proof that people had or had not checked out, and we had no idea how many drinks had been consumed. I won't go back there again. There are plenty of places in the city that may be more money but most likely have better attitudes.
We headed to the Automat where I had a fried peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I could have stayed out for hours, but other people were tired, and I couldn't complain because it was 4 am. The Siblings and I took a cab home and everyone fell asleep instantly except me, buzzed from too many Captain and Diet's. My brain wouldn't shut off. I hate men when I drink and I was mad at all of them and therefore D for something inconsequential that was resolved within two seconds the following day.
The Siblings woke up and the three of us brunched at 44 1/2. We talked about family issues, the topic du jour these days that we all try desperately to avoid and had successfully avoided for the previous 24 hours. We're not on the same page but support each other anyway. We left an exorbitant tip because the food and service were exquisite. Brother actually shook the waiter's hand on the way out.
Sister headed to Grand Central to grab a train and Brother headed back to my apartment briefly to avoid the rain. I napped for about three minutes before D and his friend returned. I had a salad. D and I talked, as we hadn't been alone in what seemed like eternity.
AH and TE came over at around 7:30 to practice. Anxiety was high, but we have a plan despite not even being sure that we need one. We ate burritos, chatted off topic, and disbanded at the right time. I read for about 7 minutes and fell asleep by 10:30.
Tonight I shall cook a broccoli casserole and engage in the bizarre ritual of cooking a separate meal for myself while D has someone over for an entirely different dinner. They are having french toast, which is death for me without something else. I try to eat healthy when I am at home because I can control my diet in the house, which causes problems when D invites people over. I think its awkward for everyone, because once someone said "Couldn't you just cook something that your girlfriend can eat?" It was a very unhealthy weekend meal-wise, so I shall abstain from french toast. Plus, I had french toast for breakfast yesterday but rationalized it because it was smothered in fruit and stuffed with marscapone and didn't have syrup. My having the french toast is what inspired D to have it for dinner, but I think french toast, even if you could eat it all the time, is better saved for special occasions because its not the sort of thing you can eat all the time. I said "Do you think S would want the casserole instead?" "Probably," he said, but he never said I should also cook for S. I don't know. I'm not going to worry about it.
OK. I am going to stop blogging about french toast because I just wrote an entire paragraph about french toast.
Until tomorrow...
The weekend was good. Real good.
It started Thursday night with D's friends, one visiting from Madrid and one from Santa Barbera. Both were delightful. We ate dinner out and had drinks and walked through Times Square and went to the Mac Store where they both bought the new Shuffle and then to Max Brenner(if there is such a thing as too much chocolate, this is it) and then home where their attitudes were lovely about participating in my new art project.
I took a half day on Friday as Sister originally planned to arrive by noon. She didn't, so I had time to read and clean the bathroom.
The main theme of the weekend (aside from Sibling Awesomeness!) was piss poor service. We ate dinner at Roberto Passon, which was previously awesome but is now low on the list. Well, not so. I'll still eat there because the food is amazing - pumpkin sage ravioli, folks - but still. We waited for 20 minutes for a table, and when we sat down, weren't served for 30 minutes. Which would have been acceptable given how crowded it was, except that the table next to us, which was seated ten minutes after us, received their drinks, bread, spreads, and appetizers before anyone even gave us water. There was also the Curb Your Enthusiasm moment when the waiter was chatting with them and had his butt on my bread. The waiter never brought us an ice bucket for our white wine (again, not a big deal except that he said he'd bring one), we had to ask for spreads for the bread, and when we asked for more it never came. Sister and I are lightweights, and were asleep by 10:30 thanks to the wine.
We slept in on Saturday (Sister got 11 hours!), chatted, listened to old mix CDs and remembered how things used to be. We got dressed and had brunch at 44 SW, which is great because of homemade mini muffins but we got stranded because the absentee waitress never came to get my credit card. Brother was waiting for us at Penn Station and we were late because of the bill issue. We ended up tipping less with the cash we had so we could get out of there.
We met Brother at Penn Station and took the 3 to The Brooklyn Museum, which was unbearable because it was running local. I had a New York moment where I nearly kicked a woman who's train etiquette offended me. The Ron Mueck show was amazing. We stayed to watch the documentary. The Annie Liebovitz show was also amazing, but it was too crowded to see everything. The watercolor exhibit was nuts in a good way, which makes me sad because nobody was looking at it.
Back in the city, we decided on an early dinner because we were all starving to death. We met D and his friend from Madrid at the newly renovated Film Center Cafe. We were seated immediately and nobody came to our table for half an hour. No water, no waitress, nothing. Poor Brother nearly died of starvation! When we finally ordered, we waited for a long time before the appetizer came. And then 45 minutes between appetizer and main course. We left a small tip, and did I feel bad? No! Because no restaurant experience that starts at 5:45 pm on a Saturday night should require two hours when there are no drinks and desserts involved.
We ended up being half an hour late meeting people for drinks at Hi Fi. I was blissed out by friends meeting friends, friends from high school, friends from MA, family, friends I'd only had for two days, friends from class, friends of friends, friends from work... I caught up with a bunch of people I hadn't seen in a while, and we headed to Sing Sing for the karaoke party of the century.
Amazing time had! Lionel Ritchie's All Night Long! NKOTB! Hot Hot Heat! Milli Vanilli! 80's songs galore! Drunkenness! Loudness! Shy people grabbing the mic! I kept saying "I have such an amazing life..." and realized that I don't want to move. Being settled is such a wonderful feeling.
Of course there was drama with the bill. I don't recommend trying to count $700 in cash while drunk in a karaoke bar when you're pissed off about having to pay an automatic 18.75% gratuity on a room where the freaking waiter only showed his face twice in 5 hours' time. We were freaking out. Sister was being assertive. I was appreciative but couldn't deal. NR told them that things were "unacceptable" but we had no proof that people had or had not checked out, and we had no idea how many drinks had been consumed. I won't go back there again. There are plenty of places in the city that may be more money but most likely have better attitudes.
We headed to the Automat where I had a fried peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I could have stayed out for hours, but other people were tired, and I couldn't complain because it was 4 am. The Siblings and I took a cab home and everyone fell asleep instantly except me, buzzed from too many Captain and Diet's. My brain wouldn't shut off. I hate men when I drink and I was mad at all of them and therefore D for something inconsequential that was resolved within two seconds the following day.
The Siblings woke up and the three of us brunched at 44 1/2. We talked about family issues, the topic du jour these days that we all try desperately to avoid and had successfully avoided for the previous 24 hours. We're not on the same page but support each other anyway. We left an exorbitant tip because the food and service were exquisite. Brother actually shook the waiter's hand on the way out.
Sister headed to Grand Central to grab a train and Brother headed back to my apartment briefly to avoid the rain. I napped for about three minutes before D and his friend returned. I had a salad. D and I talked, as we hadn't been alone in what seemed like eternity.
AH and TE came over at around 7:30 to practice. Anxiety was high, but we have a plan despite not even being sure that we need one. We ate burritos, chatted off topic, and disbanded at the right time. I read for about 7 minutes and fell asleep by 10:30.
Tonight I shall cook a broccoli casserole and engage in the bizarre ritual of cooking a separate meal for myself while D has someone over for an entirely different dinner. They are having french toast, which is death for me without something else. I try to eat healthy when I am at home because I can control my diet in the house, which causes problems when D invites people over. I think its awkward for everyone, because once someone said "Couldn't you just cook something that your girlfriend can eat?" It was a very unhealthy weekend meal-wise, so I shall abstain from french toast. Plus, I had french toast for breakfast yesterday but rationalized it because it was smothered in fruit and stuffed with marscapone and didn't have syrup. My having the french toast is what inspired D to have it for dinner, but I think french toast, even if you could eat it all the time, is better saved for special occasions because its not the sort of thing you can eat all the time. I said "Do you think S would want the casserole instead?" "Probably," he said, but he never said I should also cook for S. I don't know. I'm not going to worry about it.
OK. I am going to stop blogging about french toast because I just wrote an entire paragraph about french toast.
Until tomorrow...
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Interviewing
I just can't seem to convince myself that it isn't weird/bizarre/horribly inappropriate/terribly unprofessional to say the word "boobs" during a job interview, regardless of the context.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Is It the Alcohol or the Lack Of Humidity?
Ah, the weekend update. I never do these on Monday anymore.
The weekend was:
1. Being inspired by a photographer who was nice enough to share a drink with me and encourage me and beg me and say "please do, so I can be inspired if you move back."
2. Seeing people reconnect and wanting the best for them.
3. Free samples!
4. Cousins!
5. Too much to drink. Oh. But cosmos and watermelon martinis.
6. Regretting too much to drink.
7. Goat cheese omelette.
8. Overwhelmed again by Photo Expo.
9. Subscribing for the deal, not the magazine.
10. Lack of planning.
11. Lack of napping.
12. Talking to LBF.
13. Photo taking.
14. Eating Afghani food for the first time and falling in love.
15. Crazy waiter at Afghani restaurant sitting down and betting us a dessert vs. a cappucino for him if we could correctly guess the percentage of the human body that is water.
16. Same waiter asking us to determine what we would change about the world if we could change on thing. I said "Let women run the world!" Screw global warming!
17. Going to bed too early due to still being hung over from the night before.
18. Borat, matinee-style! Funniest. Movie. Ever.
19. Homemade mini muffins!
20. Eggs Sardou!
21. More photo taking.
22. Boredom? What!?!?
23. I Am a Sex Addict. Amazing movie.
24. Terrible conversation with D about "the future."
25. D finally admitting that he's been wrong about marriage and living together being the same thing.
26. Being sad that D finally admitted that marriage and living together are not the same thing.
27. Being horrified when saying out loud "Having a husband who will allow his children to eat candy for breakfast is a dealbreaker."
28. Being horrified at how terribly unromantic the whole thing is.
29. Being horrified that for some people love doesn't matter.
30. Crying instead of eating dinner and then having a peanut butter and banana and honey sandwich which somehow made the whole thing acceptable.
The weekend was:
1. Being inspired by a photographer who was nice enough to share a drink with me and encourage me and beg me and say "please do, so I can be inspired if you move back."
2. Seeing people reconnect and wanting the best for them.
3. Free samples!
4. Cousins!
5. Too much to drink. Oh. But cosmos and watermelon martinis.
6. Regretting too much to drink.
7. Goat cheese omelette.
8. Overwhelmed again by Photo Expo.
9. Subscribing for the deal, not the magazine.
10. Lack of planning.
11. Lack of napping.
12. Talking to LBF.
13. Photo taking.
14. Eating Afghani food for the first time and falling in love.
15. Crazy waiter at Afghani restaurant sitting down and betting us a dessert vs. a cappucino for him if we could correctly guess the percentage of the human body that is water.
16. Same waiter asking us to determine what we would change about the world if we could change on thing. I said "Let women run the world!" Screw global warming!
17. Going to bed too early due to still being hung over from the night before.
18. Borat, matinee-style! Funniest. Movie. Ever.
19. Homemade mini muffins!
20. Eggs Sardou!
21. More photo taking.
22. Boredom? What!?!?
23. I Am a Sex Addict. Amazing movie.
24. Terrible conversation with D about "the future."
25. D finally admitting that he's been wrong about marriage and living together being the same thing.
26. Being sad that D finally admitted that marriage and living together are not the same thing.
27. Being horrified when saying out loud "Having a husband who will allow his children to eat candy for breakfast is a dealbreaker."
28. Being horrified at how terribly unromantic the whole thing is.
29. Being horrified that for some people love doesn't matter.
30. Crying instead of eating dinner and then having a peanut butter and banana and honey sandwich which somehow made the whole thing acceptable.
Too Much Sleep
I slept too much last night and had dreams that involved:
1. Myself as Marie Antoinette (curse you, New York Post, for being left in the lunch room open to a weird little article about Marie Antoinette!), being romantically entangled with Johnny Depp who was a member of the court who was going to try to kidnap me so I wouldn't have to continue my loveless relationship with Louis Whichever.
2. Shopping with a coworker who I would never shop with in real life at a store that sold only super balls and weirdly scented lotions, which was owned by an old witch/hag and a talking dolphin.
3. Having a photography job photographing old bridges, Bridges-of-Madison-County- style.
4. Singing in a variety show and being terribly unprepared. And so it begins...
1. Myself as Marie Antoinette (curse you, New York Post, for being left in the lunch room open to a weird little article about Marie Antoinette!), being romantically entangled with Johnny Depp who was a member of the court who was going to try to kidnap me so I wouldn't have to continue my loveless relationship with Louis Whichever.
2. Shopping with a coworker who I would never shop with in real life at a store that sold only super balls and weirdly scented lotions, which was owned by an old witch/hag and a talking dolphin.
3. Having a photography job photographing old bridges, Bridges-of-Madison-County- style.
4. Singing in a variety show and being terribly unprepared. And so it begins...
Monday, November 06, 2006
Headlines
Oh my. am New York has a front page headline that says "Sa-damned."
I can't believe someone got paid to write that.
I can't believe someone got paid to write that.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Wondering
I am wondering if $20 is too much to spend on a Phil Collins mousepad as a joke gift for a coworker. Is it? I think the funny is worth $20. But oh the things I could with $20. I just sold shelves via Craigslist last night for $20 and don't think that shelves are of the same worth as a Phil Collins mousepad.
I am also wondering if I am truly lame for having a favorite restaurant in the city that I go to all the time. There are no fewer than 18 zillion restaurants that I have yet to try yet I insist on eating the Latin Scramble for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and insist upon dragging out-of-town guests there. There's something to be said for being a regular. I know what's good (it's all good), I know what it will cost (cheap!), I know when to go to avoid crowds. I still, however, feel lame.
In addition, I am wondering why small free newspapers have to make news out of everything. For example, I read this morning that NYC is considering installing traffic lights that indicate to pedestrians how much time they have to walk across the street before they will be run down by a cab! Whoa! They have installed one in each of the five boroughs on a trial basis! That means that there are now five of them total in the entire city! How newsworthy! I am wondering, though, is it someone's job to stand there to see if pedestrians prefer the countdown to guessing and freaking out and nearly dying every time they cross the street? Is there someone standing on each side of the intersection with a survey asking pedestrians to rate their level of perceived safety? Will they install more of them only if nobody gets killed at these intersections? How long will the trials last? And why is this a big deal? Aren't these everywhere else in the world? I don't know. I'm pretty sure they're going to work.
I am obsessing over Yahoo Beta. I don't know how I ever lived without its tabs.
I am busily appreciating The Boss today and knocked on his office door to tell him so. I don't know what possessed me. Sometimes I am overcome with affection and feel the need to tell people. I also compulsively feel the need to make sure that awesome people feel awesome about themselves.
I am very excited about Borat and Volver.
I am excited to have learned that Gap online has pants for short people. Yes, readers, I shop at the Gap. But only for pants! Because of desperation! I'm not proud of this, but a girl needs pants.
I have straight hair today because I got up early so that I could have straight hair.
It's the weekend and I have no idea what's going on because this weekend's visitor isn't mine. Hopefully pants and Photo Expo and one or two movies and many good meals that may or may not involve Latin Scrambles.
I feel like I'm waiting for something but I'm not really sure what it is.
And on that note... I think I want to start my weekend.
Have wonderful days off, folks.
I am also wondering if I am truly lame for having a favorite restaurant in the city that I go to all the time. There are no fewer than 18 zillion restaurants that I have yet to try yet I insist on eating the Latin Scramble for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and insist upon dragging out-of-town guests there. There's something to be said for being a regular. I know what's good (it's all good), I know what it will cost (cheap!), I know when to go to avoid crowds. I still, however, feel lame.
In addition, I am wondering why small free newspapers have to make news out of everything. For example, I read this morning that NYC is considering installing traffic lights that indicate to pedestrians how much time they have to walk across the street before they will be run down by a cab! Whoa! They have installed one in each of the five boroughs on a trial basis! That means that there are now five of them total in the entire city! How newsworthy! I am wondering, though, is it someone's job to stand there to see if pedestrians prefer the countdown to guessing and freaking out and nearly dying every time they cross the street? Is there someone standing on each side of the intersection with a survey asking pedestrians to rate their level of perceived safety? Will they install more of them only if nobody gets killed at these intersections? How long will the trials last? And why is this a big deal? Aren't these everywhere else in the world? I don't know. I'm pretty sure they're going to work.
I am obsessing over Yahoo Beta. I don't know how I ever lived without its tabs.
I am busily appreciating The Boss today and knocked on his office door to tell him so. I don't know what possessed me. Sometimes I am overcome with affection and feel the need to tell people. I also compulsively feel the need to make sure that awesome people feel awesome about themselves.
I am very excited about Borat and Volver.
I am excited to have learned that Gap online has pants for short people. Yes, readers, I shop at the Gap. But only for pants! Because of desperation! I'm not proud of this, but a girl needs pants.
I have straight hair today because I got up early so that I could have straight hair.
It's the weekend and I have no idea what's going on because this weekend's visitor isn't mine. Hopefully pants and Photo Expo and one or two movies and many good meals that may or may not involve Latin Scrambles.
I feel like I'm waiting for something but I'm not really sure what it is.
And on that note... I think I want to start my weekend.
Have wonderful days off, folks.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Blogging The Way I Used To Blog
Oh kids, am I emo.
There is something inherently sad about one's Boyfriend saying "I borrowed such-and-such CD from Female Friend! Do you want to hear it?" when you yourself own the CD. It is mainly sad that one and one's Boyfriend don't share a dialogue about such things, and that one's boyfriend and his Female Friend apparently do, and that one and one's Boyfriend apparently have something in common and don't even realize it because one and one's Boyfriend don't talk to each other about what one another is doing. "I have that CD," you say. "Oh." "It sucks," you say, because it really does and because you want to discredit Female Friend, even though you really like Female Friend, and actually admire her ability to elicit a reaction from your Boyfriend when you yourself can't.
I am making a new blog. He doesn't care. He doesn't ask. He never wants to hear the songs or inquire as to their progress. He asked if he could contribute a painting and to which I vindictively responded with "no" because he's not allowed to be part of it unless he's part of it. "That's not what it's about," I said, because that's not what it's about and it's not like he knows because he doesn't care.
We're all having trouble right now. Relationships are hard when things are falling apart and you need other things to be perfect in order for them to be worth it. You need men to be perfect to tolerate men at times like these. You need to feel loved and doted upon and respected when you learn that the person who made you doesn't feel these things for you. You need to have feelings returned because so many of your feelings throughout life haven't been reciprocated.
Big things are happening tomorrow. I'm trying not to think about them. I'm trying not to think about anything. I'm trying to relax. I'm trying not to have feelings or opinions about anything. When you feel like this the highs are so ridiculously high and the lows so terribly low. I drank a lot and said things I didn't mean to say but am glad that I did. I gushed with affection for new people and said "I want you to be my friends! Really, I do!" and we all smiled. I lashed out about the CD and got a lashing in return. I wasn't being personal but he was. I made a mistake but he doesn't care. I don't want to talk about it because I felt so good two hours ago and want to hold onto that because those are the feelings I need right now.
Blah.
I can't believe blog has become a vocabulary. It's a noun and a verb.
I'm going to go to bed early because I have to go to work early tomorrow.
Awshummmmm.
I have a feeling the weekend is going to suck, because I'll be being dragged around and I really don't want to be with things such as they are right now.
Until tomorrow, my dear little Pringles.
There is something inherently sad about one's Boyfriend saying "I borrowed such-and-such CD from Female Friend! Do you want to hear it?" when you yourself own the CD. It is mainly sad that one and one's Boyfriend don't share a dialogue about such things, and that one's boyfriend and his Female Friend apparently do, and that one and one's Boyfriend apparently have something in common and don't even realize it because one and one's Boyfriend don't talk to each other about what one another is doing. "I have that CD," you say. "Oh." "It sucks," you say, because it really does and because you want to discredit Female Friend, even though you really like Female Friend, and actually admire her ability to elicit a reaction from your Boyfriend when you yourself can't.
I am making a new blog. He doesn't care. He doesn't ask. He never wants to hear the songs or inquire as to their progress. He asked if he could contribute a painting and to which I vindictively responded with "no" because he's not allowed to be part of it unless he's part of it. "That's not what it's about," I said, because that's not what it's about and it's not like he knows because he doesn't care.
We're all having trouble right now. Relationships are hard when things are falling apart and you need other things to be perfect in order for them to be worth it. You need men to be perfect to tolerate men at times like these. You need to feel loved and doted upon and respected when you learn that the person who made you doesn't feel these things for you. You need to have feelings returned because so many of your feelings throughout life haven't been reciprocated.
Big things are happening tomorrow. I'm trying not to think about them. I'm trying not to think about anything. I'm trying to relax. I'm trying not to have feelings or opinions about anything. When you feel like this the highs are so ridiculously high and the lows so terribly low. I drank a lot and said things I didn't mean to say but am glad that I did. I gushed with affection for new people and said "I want you to be my friends! Really, I do!" and we all smiled. I lashed out about the CD and got a lashing in return. I wasn't being personal but he was. I made a mistake but he doesn't care. I don't want to talk about it because I felt so good two hours ago and want to hold onto that because those are the feelings I need right now.
Blah.
I can't believe blog has become a vocabulary. It's a noun and a verb.
I'm going to go to bed early because I have to go to work early tomorrow.
Awshummmmm.
I have a feeling the weekend is going to suck, because I'll be being dragged around and I really don't want to be with things such as they are right now.
Until tomorrow, my dear little Pringles.
I Feel Guilty
I encountered weirdness on the subway this afternoon en route to a doctor's appointment.
On the platform just after letting myself through the turnstile, this guy on the other side said "Please open the door!"
"What?"
"Please open the door! He lost his rye!"
"What? I'm sorry?"
"He! He lost his rye, see?"
"What? I'm sorry I can't understand..."
There was a second man standing motionless and confused in the tunrstile (one of the floor-to-ceiling ones that cannot be jumped).
Ah! He lost his ride.
I think what was happening was that the first guy wanted me to push open the emergency door so that the second guy could get onto the train.
But.
How do I know that the second guy really lost his ride? And what does that even mean? What if it was a scam and he was trying to get through without paying? I do not support turnstile jumpers. In fact, I always want to fight people who sneak onto the train. Who do these people think they are? Nobody gets to ride for free! Not that I would actually fight, because obviously I would be detroyed and $2 for the MTA just isn't worth it.
Second of all, how do you lose your ride? Like was he not fast enough? Did he push the turnstile the wrong way?
Third of all, is it my responsibility to determine who does and does not ride the train?
And finally, there was no way I was going to push open the emergency door because it said "EMERGENCY EXIT PUSH TO OPEN ALARM WILL SOUND."
Wonder Years Moment: I am still freaked out about rollerskating (even though I've been having recurring dreams about rollerskating since I moved to NYC - tangent - I had a dream the other night that I was stung on the toe by a really small jellyfish and had to miss a Madonna concert because of it and Madonna was pissed) because circa first grade on a rollerskating field trip of some sort I skated out of control into the emergency door and the alarm sounded and everyone looked at me and started laughing.
I didn't want to be the loser who opens the emergency door. I didn't want everyone to look at me when the alarm went off. I didn't want to be responsible for forcing all of the MTA patrons to hear an alarm for the duration of their platform-waiting. No way!
Plus, I'm sure its against some sort of rule to open an emergency door when there's not an emergency.
Now. If I was D, I'd have thought "This door is not alarmed. I've never heard an alarm sound. It's no big deal." People with baby carriages must go through that door all the time, right? Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, I think further down on the platform is a non-alarmed door. I should have suggested that to the guy, but I didn't think of it at the time.
Regardless...
I didn't open the door.
And how guilty I felt and still feel!
Seriously. I couldn't face the guy. I felt like such a jerk.
The first guy was begging me on behalf of the second guy. I said "Look, I'm sorry, I don't know what to tell you! It says there's an alarm!" I walked away.
Then again, if the first guy was friends with the second guy, why didn't he just go through and open the emergency door?
I am still feeling bad about it, which is why I am blogging about it. I feel like I was a mean New Yorker, not helping this guy out. Who am I to determine what is right and wrong? Why am I protecting myself when someone just lost their precious $2 ride? Or did he? How did he?
I just don't know.
On the platform just after letting myself through the turnstile, this guy on the other side said "Please open the door!"
"What?"
"Please open the door! He lost his rye!"
"What? I'm sorry?"
"He! He lost his rye, see?"
"What? I'm sorry I can't understand..."
There was a second man standing motionless and confused in the tunrstile (one of the floor-to-ceiling ones that cannot be jumped).
Ah! He lost his ride.
I think what was happening was that the first guy wanted me to push open the emergency door so that the second guy could get onto the train.
But.
How do I know that the second guy really lost his ride? And what does that even mean? What if it was a scam and he was trying to get through without paying? I do not support turnstile jumpers. In fact, I always want to fight people who sneak onto the train. Who do these people think they are? Nobody gets to ride for free! Not that I would actually fight, because obviously I would be detroyed and $2 for the MTA just isn't worth it.
Second of all, how do you lose your ride? Like was he not fast enough? Did he push the turnstile the wrong way?
Third of all, is it my responsibility to determine who does and does not ride the train?
And finally, there was no way I was going to push open the emergency door because it said "EMERGENCY EXIT PUSH TO OPEN ALARM WILL SOUND."
Wonder Years Moment: I am still freaked out about rollerskating (even though I've been having recurring dreams about rollerskating since I moved to NYC - tangent - I had a dream the other night that I was stung on the toe by a really small jellyfish and had to miss a Madonna concert because of it and Madonna was pissed) because circa first grade on a rollerskating field trip of some sort I skated out of control into the emergency door and the alarm sounded and everyone looked at me and started laughing.
I didn't want to be the loser who opens the emergency door. I didn't want everyone to look at me when the alarm went off. I didn't want to be responsible for forcing all of the MTA patrons to hear an alarm for the duration of their platform-waiting. No way!
Plus, I'm sure its against some sort of rule to open an emergency door when there's not an emergency.
Now. If I was D, I'd have thought "This door is not alarmed. I've never heard an alarm sound. It's no big deal." People with baby carriages must go through that door all the time, right? Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, I think further down on the platform is a non-alarmed door. I should have suggested that to the guy, but I didn't think of it at the time.
Regardless...
I didn't open the door.
And how guilty I felt and still feel!
Seriously. I couldn't face the guy. I felt like such a jerk.
The first guy was begging me on behalf of the second guy. I said "Look, I'm sorry, I don't know what to tell you! It says there's an alarm!" I walked away.
Then again, if the first guy was friends with the second guy, why didn't he just go through and open the emergency door?
I am still feeling bad about it, which is why I am blogging about it. I feel like I was a mean New Yorker, not helping this guy out. Who am I to determine what is right and wrong? Why am I protecting myself when someone just lost their precious $2 ride? Or did he? How did he?
I just don't know.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Yes, The Whole World Is in 3D But Still....
We went to see Nightmare Before Christmas in 3D last night to celebrate Halloween.
I kept wondering if there's anything at all dangerous about having goosebumps for an hour straight.
Oh how I love that movie. It's brilliant. Everything about it is perfect, and inspiring, because as a musical it is one of the best.
Yes, I felt like a bit of a loser being one of the only people sans costume in the entire city, but whatever. There are other things going on!
Such as the fact that I feel like death today. I can't keep my eyes open. I have difficulty with the time change, and so this might just be like jet lag. Whatever it is, it sucks. I may leave work early today to nap and then nap some more.
Such as the fact that there is nothing I've wanted more in the world than a lemon donut for the past few days. I fear that a donut might kill me, but since I already feel like death, why not? I may just have to buy one! And also a chocolate chip cookie. Right.
Such as the fact that I am emo. I am mainly emo on behalf of others, but I am emo too because I am close to these things and I should have opinions, even if I try desperately not to have them, and not think about things. These things are real.
Such as the fact that I don't have a band, and all of a sudden I really need one. How is it that I know fewer people here than I did in Boston who are musically inclined?
Such as the fact that I am socially strected too thin.
Such as the fact that I am trying to set up the new blog.
Such as the fact that I still have finished my art project from the weekend.
OK. I should be working so I can leave early.
Until tomorrow...
I kept wondering if there's anything at all dangerous about having goosebumps for an hour straight.
Oh how I love that movie. It's brilliant. Everything about it is perfect, and inspiring, because as a musical it is one of the best.
Yes, I felt like a bit of a loser being one of the only people sans costume in the entire city, but whatever. There are other things going on!
Such as the fact that I feel like death today. I can't keep my eyes open. I have difficulty with the time change, and so this might just be like jet lag. Whatever it is, it sucks. I may leave work early today to nap and then nap some more.
Such as the fact that there is nothing I've wanted more in the world than a lemon donut for the past few days. I fear that a donut might kill me, but since I already feel like death, why not? I may just have to buy one! And also a chocolate chip cookie. Right.
Such as the fact that I am emo. I am mainly emo on behalf of others, but I am emo too because I am close to these things and I should have opinions, even if I try desperately not to have them, and not think about things. These things are real.
Such as the fact that I don't have a band, and all of a sudden I really need one. How is it that I know fewer people here than I did in Boston who are musically inclined?
Such as the fact that I am socially strected too thin.
Such as the fact that I am trying to set up the new blog.
Such as the fact that I still have finished my art project from the weekend.
OK. I should be working so I can leave early.
Until tomorrow...
Blog Address Change
OK. It's official. As of Friday you can find My Mundane Life In Song at:
theelusivepringle.blogspot.com
My Mundane Life In Song will still exist, but it will only be music, for the time being.
theelusivepringle.blogspot.com
My Mundane Life In Song will still exist, but it will only be music, for the time being.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Breaking In Is Hard To Do
Here are some good and bad things about the weekend:
The Good:
1. Rather than steal my wallet, a kind man on the street tapped me on the shoulder to inform me that my bag was open.
2. The Puffy Chair. I want to be a Duplass.
3. Clean clothes... and sheets!
4. Finishing a song that I love and getting positive feedback.
5. Breaking in Fluevogs.
6. Rain not actually raining.
7. Gael Garcia Bernal in Babel.
8. The wedding and club scene in Babel.
9. Thinking about characters over a frittata.
10. Barbie photo shoot.
11. Dreaming about lunch with Clive Owen and Jude Law.
12. An extra hour of sleep.
13. An art project accomplished!
14. Wandering aimlessly.
15. Wandering aimlessly and ending up at a musical.
16. Spontaneity!
17. Crying as soon as Try To Remember began, and realizing that I wasn’t the only one.
18. The author is in the musical! Oh my!
19. Dinner with NR.
20. A phone call to keep me company walking across the island.
21. Very very very exciting email received.
22. Practicing because maybe, maybe, maybe this can happen.
23. My own reunion and something to the effect of “I realized how empty things were before I met you. I wish I met you sooner, but not really, because then we probably would have broken up.”
24. Catching up because three days somehow feel like eternity.
25. Discussing how it is weird how three days somehow feel like eternity.
26. Feeling truly loved.
27. Feeling hope.
28. Smiling and staying up too late and not caring at all.
Here are some not-wonderful things about the weekend:
1. No plain paper towels. Why must they all have cornucopias on them?
2. I saw a preview for a movie involving yet another Culkin. There seems to be an endless supply of them for the world to mess up.
3. People not following through with a Craigslist purchase.
4. The Gap sucking (even moreso than usual) and changing their sizes such that I can no longer fit into even the smallest pair of pants they sell. Where am I supposed to get pants? I’m not complaining about being small. I am aware that it is far worse to be tall – you cannot make clothes bigger and it is relatively easy to make them smaller. But I would like, for once, to just find clothes that fit.
5. Subsequent body image issues and near-tears.
6. Breaking in Fluevogs. Stairs are not easy.
7. Feeling a bit aimless.
8. Feeling a bit lonely and therefore feeling a bit like a loser.
9. Gael Garcia Bernal in The King. The movie was raw torture. Not his fault, I still love him.
10. Parting ways with the Barbie McDonald’s.
11. Missing M's phone call.
12. Dreaming about being cheated on.
13. Being desperate in dream about lunch with Clive Owen and Jude Law and wanting Jude Law to notice me and not knowing how to get him to notice me because for some inexplicable reason the awesome leg warmers I was wearing in the dream were ineffective.
14. Portion of art project on the floor.
15. Exciting email causing induction of immediate ulcer and reevaluating of life.
16. Weekend not being long enough.
The Good:
1. Rather than steal my wallet, a kind man on the street tapped me on the shoulder to inform me that my bag was open.
2. The Puffy Chair. I want to be a Duplass.
3. Clean clothes... and sheets!
4. Finishing a song that I love and getting positive feedback.
5. Breaking in Fluevogs.
6. Rain not actually raining.
7. Gael Garcia Bernal in Babel.
8. The wedding and club scene in Babel.
9. Thinking about characters over a frittata.
10. Barbie photo shoot.
11. Dreaming about lunch with Clive Owen and Jude Law.
12. An extra hour of sleep.
13. An art project accomplished!
14. Wandering aimlessly.
15. Wandering aimlessly and ending up at a musical.
16. Spontaneity!
17. Crying as soon as Try To Remember began, and realizing that I wasn’t the only one.
18. The author is in the musical! Oh my!
19. Dinner with NR.
20. A phone call to keep me company walking across the island.
21. Very very very exciting email received.
22. Practicing because maybe, maybe, maybe this can happen.
23. My own reunion and something to the effect of “I realized how empty things were before I met you. I wish I met you sooner, but not really, because then we probably would have broken up.”
24. Catching up because three days somehow feel like eternity.
25. Discussing how it is weird how three days somehow feel like eternity.
26. Feeling truly loved.
27. Feeling hope.
28. Smiling and staying up too late and not caring at all.
Here are some not-wonderful things about the weekend:
1. No plain paper towels. Why must they all have cornucopias on them?
2. I saw a preview for a movie involving yet another Culkin. There seems to be an endless supply of them for the world to mess up.
3. People not following through with a Craigslist purchase.
4. The Gap sucking (even moreso than usual) and changing their sizes such that I can no longer fit into even the smallest pair of pants they sell. Where am I supposed to get pants? I’m not complaining about being small. I am aware that it is far worse to be tall – you cannot make clothes bigger and it is relatively easy to make them smaller. But I would like, for once, to just find clothes that fit.
5. Subsequent body image issues and near-tears.
6. Breaking in Fluevogs. Stairs are not easy.
7. Feeling a bit aimless.
8. Feeling a bit lonely and therefore feeling a bit like a loser.
9. Gael Garcia Bernal in The King. The movie was raw torture. Not his fault, I still love him.
10. Parting ways with the Barbie McDonald’s.
11. Missing M's phone call.
12. Dreaming about being cheated on.
13. Being desperate in dream about lunch with Clive Owen and Jude Law and wanting Jude Law to notice me and not knowing how to get him to notice me because for some inexplicable reason the awesome leg warmers I was wearing in the dream were ineffective.
14. Portion of art project on the floor.
15. Exciting email causing induction of immediate ulcer and reevaluating of life.
16. Weekend not being long enough.
My Very First Photo Shoot
I had my first opportunity to be part of a photo shoot this weekend.
The models were great to work with. They were professional, cooperative, and, well, blonde. Not the types of people one would expect to find eating at McDonald's, but I guess they stay so thin due to purging.
Here are some of the results:
Heh. Awesome. I had a lot of free time this weekend.
And now I am so craving french fries from McDonald's. Not that I will have them, because as a former employee of McD's I tend to trip out just walking into one of them.
The models were great to work with. They were professional, cooperative, and, well, blonde. Not the types of people one would expect to find eating at McDonald's, but I guess they stay so thin due to purging.
Here are some of the results:
Heh. Awesome. I had a lot of free time this weekend.
And now I am so craving french fries from McDonald's. Not that I will have them, because as a former employee of McD's I tend to trip out just walking into one of them.
Rename The Blog Contest
OK kids. I don't know if anyone is still reading, but in case you are, I thought I'd notify you that for reasons that haven't quite been ironed out, the blog may have to change its name soon. If you check My Mundane Life In Song in the near future and the blog seems bizarre, do not fret! It will have been relocated.
I'm thinking of calling it The Elusive Pringle.
Unless, of course, YOU dear reader, have a better idea! I'm open to suggestions.
So unless you hear otherwise, the new blog will be found at theelusivepringle.blogspot.com if My Mundane Life In Song becomes different.
I'm thinking of calling it The Elusive Pringle.
Unless, of course, YOU dear reader, have a better idea! I'm open to suggestions.
So unless you hear otherwise, the new blog will be found at theelusivepringle.blogspot.com if My Mundane Life In Song becomes different.
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Don't Fear A Sandwich
Date: August-ish, 2006
Genre: Musical theater, as if there's anything else these days!
Description:
Readers of My Mundane Life In Song may remember the infamous Sandwich Swap, which was not attended by yours truly due to some skepticism/cynicism on the part of visitors I had the weekend on which it took place. The entry sparked a debate regarding whether the sandwich swap was a sketchy endeavor or not.
Because I still assert that the sandwich swap would have appealed to and therefore only have been attended by nice New Yorkers and not the evil ones, I wrote a song about how there are far worse things in the world than strangers making you sandwiches.
I started writing this at a time when I was watching a lot of musicals, so its straight out of the musical of my life (My Mundane Life In Song in full effect!), complete with chorus girls who are convinced to change their minds by the end of the song.
I also used the new keyboard and am getting used to the sounds, so I didn't make all the right choices but dear god I've been sitting on this song since August and its about time I posted it. I wrote it one day in August, recorded piano and vocals the following day, and then added strings and other weird songs last night during a burst of alone-induced-productivity. And I'm not working on it ever again, because I love this song enough to make it perfect, which will never happen. There is not time.
So... enjoy!
Lyrics:
I hate everyone
And I don't trust anyone
In the city, they're all out to get me
Any New Yorker in a car would run you over in the crosswalk
Even when the little blinking guy is telling you it's safe to walk across
Still I trust strangers bearing sandwiches
Try as hard as you might to convince me otherwise
That someone who respects the awesomest lunch food known to man
Could have evil motives
Not a sandwich lover!
Any waiter you tip could be spitting on your potatoes
And even Mr. Softee could be lying about the cost of your ice cream cone
Still I trust strangers bearing sandwiches
(She trusts strangers)
Try as hard as you might to convince me otherwise
(She can't be convinced)
That someone who respects the best thing that ever happened to bread
Could be capable of evil
(They're evil)
Nobody who knows about the sandwich swap in Park Slope is the type of person who would pee on lettuce
Hipsters prefer irony to the vulgar
The only risk I see is that nobody will trade their sandwich with me
Cuz I never liked Bloc Party
(Overrated)
Every time you use your credit card identity theft might not be far off
And when you're on the subway people won't hesitate to run down the pregnant lady to steal her seat
Wallets are stolen
The cabbies drive too fast
People are groped
And the dry cleaner's a bastard
The airlines are assholes
This whole country is fucked
I saw a crazy man taking a dump on my street
Everything's scary
And really messed up
So I'll take my chances, I'll press my luck
With a sandwich
A nice stranger's making me a sandwich
Don't fear the sandwich
Don't fear a sandwich
I trust strangers bearing sandwiches
(We trust strangers)
Try as hard as you might to convince us otherwise
That someone who respects the awesomest lunch food known to man could have evil motives
No, not a sandwich lover!
Trust strangers bearing sandwiches
Trust strangers bearing sandwiches
Trust strangers bearing sandwiches
Genre: Musical theater, as if there's anything else these days!
Description:
Readers of My Mundane Life In Song may remember the infamous Sandwich Swap, which was not attended by yours truly due to some skepticism/cynicism on the part of visitors I had the weekend on which it took place. The entry sparked a debate regarding whether the sandwich swap was a sketchy endeavor or not.
Because I still assert that the sandwich swap would have appealed to and therefore only have been attended by nice New Yorkers and not the evil ones, I wrote a song about how there are far worse things in the world than strangers making you sandwiches.
I started writing this at a time when I was watching a lot of musicals, so its straight out of the musical of my life (My Mundane Life In Song in full effect!), complete with chorus girls who are convinced to change their minds by the end of the song.
I also used the new keyboard and am getting used to the sounds, so I didn't make all the right choices but dear god I've been sitting on this song since August and its about time I posted it. I wrote it one day in August, recorded piano and vocals the following day, and then added strings and other weird songs last night during a burst of alone-induced-productivity. And I'm not working on it ever again, because I love this song enough to make it perfect, which will never happen. There is not time.
So... enjoy!
Lyrics:
I hate everyone
And I don't trust anyone
In the city, they're all out to get me
Any New Yorker in a car would run you over in the crosswalk
Even when the little blinking guy is telling you it's safe to walk across
Still I trust strangers bearing sandwiches
Try as hard as you might to convince me otherwise
That someone who respects the awesomest lunch food known to man
Could have evil motives
Not a sandwich lover!
Any waiter you tip could be spitting on your potatoes
And even Mr. Softee could be lying about the cost of your ice cream cone
Still I trust strangers bearing sandwiches
(She trusts strangers)
Try as hard as you might to convince me otherwise
(She can't be convinced)
That someone who respects the best thing that ever happened to bread
Could be capable of evil
(They're evil)
Nobody who knows about the sandwich swap in Park Slope is the type of person who would pee on lettuce
Hipsters prefer irony to the vulgar
The only risk I see is that nobody will trade their sandwich with me
Cuz I never liked Bloc Party
(Overrated)
Every time you use your credit card identity theft might not be far off
And when you're on the subway people won't hesitate to run down the pregnant lady to steal her seat
Wallets are stolen
The cabbies drive too fast
People are groped
And the dry cleaner's a bastard
The airlines are assholes
This whole country is fucked
I saw a crazy man taking a dump on my street
Everything's scary
And really messed up
So I'll take my chances, I'll press my luck
With a sandwich
A nice stranger's making me a sandwich
Don't fear the sandwich
Don't fear a sandwich
I trust strangers bearing sandwiches
(We trust strangers)
Try as hard as you might to convince us otherwise
That someone who respects the awesomest lunch food known to man could have evil motives
No, not a sandwich lover!
Trust strangers bearing sandwiches
Trust strangers bearing sandwiches
Trust strangers bearing sandwiches
Friday, October 27, 2006
On Track
The last couple of weeks have been catch up weeks - catching up on household projects, getting organized, making lists of projects that need to be done, phone calls that must be returned, etc.
The last couple of weeks have also been heinous at work. Too much work, too much stress surrounding the work, but acceptable because the result was a thumbs up (thumbs up!) from the big guy, a handshake from The Boss, and a weird insult/compliment to the effect of "This is an instance of where your being so anal has really helped us... nobody else at this entire company could have done as good a job." Right.
The last couple of weeks have also been social. I'm settling back into my old life, and it makes me feel like I don't want to leave. There's so much to do, so much to see, so many conversations to have.
This week was busy. I spent Monday night staring catatonically at the TV. D said "You must be really bored." "Au contraire..." I said. "There are a million things I could be doing right now, but note! I am choosing to sit here and watch Friends reruns. Do not judge me!"
I was a bit fried from the weekend. I didn't do much, but I emerged from the weekend emotionally drained. I stayed in on Friday night. I finally returned JQ's phone call and waited for half an hour before I dropped the bomb and killed the conversation. D and I tried a new recipe that was an abysmal failure. Mid-recipe Father called (I didn't know what to do - why was he calling? was I happy he was calling? was I mortified?), and my heart was torn to shreds and then reassembled by my assertiveness. We tried to watch Godfather 3 to get my mind off of things, but the movie just sucks. Hard. Sophia Coppola = gross. We started watching The Happiness of the Katakuri's (a Japanese murder-mystery-musical) and fell asleep in the middle of it.
We woke up early to see Marie Antionette, which I was being dragged to as a dutiful girlfriend. For some reason incomprehensible to me, D has a crush on Kirsten Dunst. Kirsten Dunst = also gross. The movie = also gross! Oh my. One of the worst I've ever seen, and not even because of Kirsten Dunst. The only good thing about it was Steve Coogan, who I heart. D even hated it, and he loves everything. He was mortified by the wastefulness. It was a very anti-Sophia weekend.
We met up with Brother and BB at Penn Station, and headed downtown to a gallery. We went to more galleries. We shopped. We ate pizza and then more pizza with marshmallows and chocolate on it. We shopped. D and Brother enabled me to buy Fluevogs. We spent yet another weekend evening in and watched Lady Vengeance and then finished watching The Happiness of the Katakuri's, which turned out to be one of the best movies of all time.
We woke up early on Sunday morning to see the matinee of The Prestige, which was amazing. You must all run out and see it immediately! This minute! Oh! It was a life-changing movie. And OH, Christian Bale! Oh my. Really. Even with a fake beard. And Hugh Jackman can act. I'm getting all excited just thinking about the movie. The rest of the day was spent playing with the new external hard drive and burning CDs and backing up songs and cleaning and talking to NL finally and talking to Mother for hours during which I was honest and protecting and somehow managed to feel functional afterwards. We didn't watch TV and read instead.
Monday was the vegetating and then D, after I'd brushed my teeth and emerged to say goodnight to him, saying "Hey - should we talk about the vacation now?" "Ok?" and then talking and no progress and then D putting the laptop on me saying "Let's look some things up..." and then walking away and me saying "Can I please go to sleep?" an hour later and him being annoyed and all "You have to ask me to go to sleep?" and I said "No, I mean 'do you mind if I stop doing this?'" and my going to sleep way later than I'd meant to.
Tuesday was booking the trip! A resort in Cancun! No planning involved! A deal on the internet! A jacuzzi in the room! Yes! Of course now I have to shop for bathing suits. The Alaska plan was much better in that I own many many articles of clothing that obscure my body. But who cares? Cancun! WOO!!!!
We were late meeting MY at Grimaldi's for pizza because of the planning. We met there prior to checking out the hipster Hell House in DUMBO. For those of you who don't know, Hell Houses are these weird "haunted houses" set up by Evangelical Christians to freak kids out and to hopefully make them more religious. So rather than ghosts and zombies, there are scenes of abortions and suicides and gay weddings. I didn't know how I'd feel - I felt a little guilty, actually. I could go on and on about this for hours. It was an interesting experience, and I'll blog about it later. We went out for drinks afterwards at Superfine, which is awesome because it had giant (I mean GIANT) spiders all over the walls for Halloween.
I had lunch in the East Village with PW on Wednesday. I found the jackpot block for vegetarian dining as PW was a bit late. Sweet! Whole wheat goat cheese ravioli in a sage cream sauce with pieces of butternut squash. Deliciously fall. We caught up and squealed about work crushes and vented about families. I was having one of those nights where I was super excited about seeing D, and therefore nearly ran home. We had an actual conversation and then began watching American Dreamz, which turned out to be strangely entertaining.
I worked too late last night and was late meeting friends for falafel, so we ended up having amazing Thai instead in between. Afterwards we went to TM's show which wasn't as bad as he'd threatened, and D and I finished watching American Dreamz which was actually quite entertaining, mainly due to Willem Dafoe's portrayal of the Dick Cheney-esque character.
Tonight I am going to go home. And do nothing! No, not true. I am not capable of doing nothing! I am going to go to CVS, and then to the Amish market, and then home where I will do laundry (it is an emergency) and sweep and dust and watch a DVD and hopefully work on a song that's been lingering for over two months. I will finish it this weekend. I will also do one photography project that I've been procrastinating and will hopefully start the second one. I will also watch Babel with ER and hopefully dine with SK and MF. And hopefully I'll get to see NR for a bit, because she is emo and I am worried, because it is NYC and we all have those sorts of moods, especially when things are preventing us from enjoying the city. D is away this weekend, so I will spread out in the bed and get tons of sleep and not forget Daylight Savings and be absurdly productive and listen to classical music and make phone calls and be self-absorbed and exit the weekend feeling good about myself. I will be rejuvenated! I will be prepared for Halloween next week and 3D Nightmare Before Christmas.
Yes.
And now... CVS. Yay paper towels!
The last couple of weeks have also been heinous at work. Too much work, too much stress surrounding the work, but acceptable because the result was a thumbs up (thumbs up!) from the big guy, a handshake from The Boss, and a weird insult/compliment to the effect of "This is an instance of where your being so anal has really helped us... nobody else at this entire company could have done as good a job." Right.
The last couple of weeks have also been social. I'm settling back into my old life, and it makes me feel like I don't want to leave. There's so much to do, so much to see, so many conversations to have.
This week was busy. I spent Monday night staring catatonically at the TV. D said "You must be really bored." "Au contraire..." I said. "There are a million things I could be doing right now, but note! I am choosing to sit here and watch Friends reruns. Do not judge me!"
I was a bit fried from the weekend. I didn't do much, but I emerged from the weekend emotionally drained. I stayed in on Friday night. I finally returned JQ's phone call and waited for half an hour before I dropped the bomb and killed the conversation. D and I tried a new recipe that was an abysmal failure. Mid-recipe Father called (I didn't know what to do - why was he calling? was I happy he was calling? was I mortified?), and my heart was torn to shreds and then reassembled by my assertiveness. We tried to watch Godfather 3 to get my mind off of things, but the movie just sucks. Hard. Sophia Coppola = gross. We started watching The Happiness of the Katakuri's (a Japanese murder-mystery-musical) and fell asleep in the middle of it.
We woke up early to see Marie Antionette, which I was being dragged to as a dutiful girlfriend. For some reason incomprehensible to me, D has a crush on Kirsten Dunst. Kirsten Dunst = also gross. The movie = also gross! Oh my. One of the worst I've ever seen, and not even because of Kirsten Dunst. The only good thing about it was Steve Coogan, who I heart. D even hated it, and he loves everything. He was mortified by the wastefulness. It was a very anti-Sophia weekend.
We met up with Brother and BB at Penn Station, and headed downtown to a gallery. We went to more galleries. We shopped. We ate pizza and then more pizza with marshmallows and chocolate on it. We shopped. D and Brother enabled me to buy Fluevogs. We spent yet another weekend evening in and watched Lady Vengeance and then finished watching The Happiness of the Katakuri's, which turned out to be one of the best movies of all time.
We woke up early on Sunday morning to see the matinee of The Prestige, which was amazing. You must all run out and see it immediately! This minute! Oh! It was a life-changing movie. And OH, Christian Bale! Oh my. Really. Even with a fake beard. And Hugh Jackman can act. I'm getting all excited just thinking about the movie. The rest of the day was spent playing with the new external hard drive and burning CDs and backing up songs and cleaning and talking to NL finally and talking to Mother for hours during which I was honest and protecting and somehow managed to feel functional afterwards. We didn't watch TV and read instead.
Monday was the vegetating and then D, after I'd brushed my teeth and emerged to say goodnight to him, saying "Hey - should we talk about the vacation now?" "Ok?" and then talking and no progress and then D putting the laptop on me saying "Let's look some things up..." and then walking away and me saying "Can I please go to sleep?" an hour later and him being annoyed and all "You have to ask me to go to sleep?" and I said "No, I mean 'do you mind if I stop doing this?'" and my going to sleep way later than I'd meant to.
Tuesday was booking the trip! A resort in Cancun! No planning involved! A deal on the internet! A jacuzzi in the room! Yes! Of course now I have to shop for bathing suits. The Alaska plan was much better in that I own many many articles of clothing that obscure my body. But who cares? Cancun! WOO!!!!
We were late meeting MY at Grimaldi's for pizza because of the planning. We met there prior to checking out the hipster Hell House in DUMBO. For those of you who don't know, Hell Houses are these weird "haunted houses" set up by Evangelical Christians to freak kids out and to hopefully make them more religious. So rather than ghosts and zombies, there are scenes of abortions and suicides and gay weddings. I didn't know how I'd feel - I felt a little guilty, actually. I could go on and on about this for hours. It was an interesting experience, and I'll blog about it later. We went out for drinks afterwards at Superfine, which is awesome because it had giant (I mean GIANT) spiders all over the walls for Halloween.
I had lunch in the East Village with PW on Wednesday. I found the jackpot block for vegetarian dining as PW was a bit late. Sweet! Whole wheat goat cheese ravioli in a sage cream sauce with pieces of butternut squash. Deliciously fall. We caught up and squealed about work crushes and vented about families. I was having one of those nights where I was super excited about seeing D, and therefore nearly ran home. We had an actual conversation and then began watching American Dreamz, which turned out to be strangely entertaining.
I worked too late last night and was late meeting friends for falafel, so we ended up having amazing Thai instead in between. Afterwards we went to TM's show which wasn't as bad as he'd threatened, and D and I finished watching American Dreamz which was actually quite entertaining, mainly due to Willem Dafoe's portrayal of the Dick Cheney-esque character.
Tonight I am going to go home. And do nothing! No, not true. I am not capable of doing nothing! I am going to go to CVS, and then to the Amish market, and then home where I will do laundry (it is an emergency) and sweep and dust and watch a DVD and hopefully work on a song that's been lingering for over two months. I will finish it this weekend. I will also do one photography project that I've been procrastinating and will hopefully start the second one. I will also watch Babel with ER and hopefully dine with SK and MF. And hopefully I'll get to see NR for a bit, because she is emo and I am worried, because it is NYC and we all have those sorts of moods, especially when things are preventing us from enjoying the city. D is away this weekend, so I will spread out in the bed and get tons of sleep and not forget Daylight Savings and be absurdly productive and listen to classical music and make phone calls and be self-absorbed and exit the weekend feeling good about myself. I will be rejuvenated! I will be prepared for Halloween next week and 3D Nightmare Before Christmas.
Yes.
And now... CVS. Yay paper towels!
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Boys Are Insane
One of my very best friends just had her first baby!
Needless to say I am overjoyed, bouncing off the walls with excitement, wanting to know all of the details.
I whispered to D "M had the baby!"
"Oh!" he said.
And then he started talking to someone else.
Boys are insane.
I guess men just don't care about gender or names or sizes.
I'll let you know if he ever asks.
Needless to say I am overjoyed, bouncing off the walls with excitement, wanting to know all of the details.
I whispered to D "M had the baby!"
"Oh!" he said.
And then he started talking to someone else.
Boys are insane.
I guess men just don't care about gender or names or sizes.
I'll let you know if he ever asks.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
How Much Do You Want For This?
How am I supposed to know?
I braved the downpour last night to display a fraction of my childhood possessions to some judges at a vintage toy store.
Guy 1, behind the counter, was encouraging and enthusiastic.
Guy 2 - not all there, in a clinical sense, but very Star Wars enthusiastic.
Guy 3 was the messenger, the man designated to go through my nostalgia and determine what is and is not worth the time of The Owner.
He took out a tray, cleaned it off, and said "Now I will go through your stuff."
While this was happening, Guy 1 said "What do you want for those?" I ended up selling the stained tauntaun, discolored white abominable snowman guy who slays the tauntaun, and the big green lizard thing from Star Wars that appears for like two seconds in the film to him for a total of $15. I was thrilled, as he was buying them for his 5 year old son who, for some wonderful reason, adores the old toys. My heart was warmed.
Meanwhile Guy 3 picked through my toys, separating them on a basis unbeknownst to me.
"How much do you want for these?"
"I don't know... how much should I want?"
"I can't tell you. You tell me how much you want and then I tell you whether or not we can do it."
Dear god. How am I supposed to know? $1 a figure? $2? More for the pins? What about the Micro Machines playsets?
I had no idea. What's best in a situation like this? Lowball so its a sure sell or highball on the off chance that they'll give you a ridiculous amount of money?
No. Clue.
While I considered my options, they kept saying "Do you really want to sell these?" "Why are you selling these?" "Isn't it killing you to get rid of these?" "I have no choice!" I kept saying. I have no choice. Choice with regard to certain matters in my life has been removed. Thank you, Parents, for making things even more difficult than they need to be.
I deliberated. I agonized, trying to put a price on my childhood. I looked at the infinite collection of vintage toys they were selling, trying to get an idea of what the mark up would be, what things were worth.
"These are GI Joe guns," said Guy 3, judgmental.
I made something up. I was firm.
He said "So you want $101 for all of this?"
"Uh... yeah, I guess."
Right. I wanted $101. That's what my Star Wars collection was worth. "Hey, let's just say $100," I said, sarcastically generous.
He said "There's no way he'll give you that. Look, we don't want these (he separated out figures that they had many of and that were missing capes and weapons and helmets)... that will bring it down to $89. How about that?" I nodded.
He excused himself to call The Owner. I heard him saying things like "She Ra's but the hair isn't as mint as the ones that came in last week... The Garbage Pail Kids might be first edition... the pins are in perfect condition... Jabba... complete Vader... no helmets..."
In the meantime, Guy 1 bought a Micro Machines C-3PO/Cantina playset and the Max Rebo Band for $10. Guy 2 bought a Micro Machines R2-D2/Jabba's Palace playset and a commemorative coin.
Guy 3 returned and said "He'll give you $40 for all of it or $20 for Jabba and the Ewoks."
No!
Again I deliberated, in agony. $40 for everything? For 40 action figures and 8 She Ra's and 7 pins and the coins and the loose Micro Machines and the Micro Machines and the Garbage Pail Kids?
I kept asking them what they thought I should do.
They kept saying "We really can't tell you."
I was tempted. $40 to just be finished. $40 to not have to deal with Ebay, at least for these toys. $40 to a store that would turn around and sell them for triple that, at least.
I couldn't decide. I went back and forth.
I decided to take the $20 and just take everything back home with me, where it will sit for eternity not being sold on Ebay.
Guy 3 said "I think you made the right decision. Now. How much can I buy a She Ra for?"
Sweet.
I braved the downpour last night to display a fraction of my childhood possessions to some judges at a vintage toy store.
Guy 1, behind the counter, was encouraging and enthusiastic.
Guy 2 - not all there, in a clinical sense, but very Star Wars enthusiastic.
Guy 3 was the messenger, the man designated to go through my nostalgia and determine what is and is not worth the time of The Owner.
He took out a tray, cleaned it off, and said "Now I will go through your stuff."
While this was happening, Guy 1 said "What do you want for those?" I ended up selling the stained tauntaun, discolored white abominable snowman guy who slays the tauntaun, and the big green lizard thing from Star Wars that appears for like two seconds in the film to him for a total of $15. I was thrilled, as he was buying them for his 5 year old son who, for some wonderful reason, adores the old toys. My heart was warmed.
Meanwhile Guy 3 picked through my toys, separating them on a basis unbeknownst to me.
"How much do you want for these?"
"I don't know... how much should I want?"
"I can't tell you. You tell me how much you want and then I tell you whether or not we can do it."
Dear god. How am I supposed to know? $1 a figure? $2? More for the pins? What about the Micro Machines playsets?
I had no idea. What's best in a situation like this? Lowball so its a sure sell or highball on the off chance that they'll give you a ridiculous amount of money?
No. Clue.
While I considered my options, they kept saying "Do you really want to sell these?" "Why are you selling these?" "Isn't it killing you to get rid of these?" "I have no choice!" I kept saying. I have no choice. Choice with regard to certain matters in my life has been removed. Thank you, Parents, for making things even more difficult than they need to be.
I deliberated. I agonized, trying to put a price on my childhood. I looked at the infinite collection of vintage toys they were selling, trying to get an idea of what the mark up would be, what things were worth.
"These are GI Joe guns," said Guy 3, judgmental.
I made something up. I was firm.
He said "So you want $101 for all of this?"
"Uh... yeah, I guess."
Right. I wanted $101. That's what my Star Wars collection was worth. "Hey, let's just say $100," I said, sarcastically generous.
He said "There's no way he'll give you that. Look, we don't want these (he separated out figures that they had many of and that were missing capes and weapons and helmets)... that will bring it down to $89. How about that?" I nodded.
He excused himself to call The Owner. I heard him saying things like "She Ra's but the hair isn't as mint as the ones that came in last week... The Garbage Pail Kids might be first edition... the pins are in perfect condition... Jabba... complete Vader... no helmets..."
In the meantime, Guy 1 bought a Micro Machines C-3PO/Cantina playset and the Max Rebo Band for $10. Guy 2 bought a Micro Machines R2-D2/Jabba's Palace playset and a commemorative coin.
Guy 3 returned and said "He'll give you $40 for all of it or $20 for Jabba and the Ewoks."
No!
Again I deliberated, in agony. $40 for everything? For 40 action figures and 8 She Ra's and 7 pins and the coins and the loose Micro Machines and the Micro Machines and the Garbage Pail Kids?
I kept asking them what they thought I should do.
They kept saying "We really can't tell you."
I was tempted. $40 to just be finished. $40 to not have to deal with Ebay, at least for these toys. $40 to a store that would turn around and sell them for triple that, at least.
I couldn't decide. I went back and forth.
I decided to take the $20 and just take everything back home with me, where it will sit for eternity not being sold on Ebay.
Guy 3 said "I think you made the right decision. Now. How much can I buy a She Ra for?"
Sweet.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Normal Blogging Resumes...
... for the time being.
I've been trying to be very dismissive of work at work, to "work" in the way that everyone else "works," which is not to drive themselves mad. It worked for a few days, and I thought (hoped!) that it would continue through this week. I planned a light week, with little stress, full of errands and side projects but alas! No! Of course not! A meeting at 4:45! More work discussed! For tomorrow! Or else!
I am supposed to be working now but my brain hurts. Oh how it hurts. I can't wait for the call from MF for dinner, which for me will be more liquid than solid.
Nevertheless...
I am feeling more sane these days. Last weekend was revelatory. I harnessed anger instead of sadness and felt mostly functional by the middle of last week. I know these things take time, but I am impatient by nature and also far too self aware. I put pressure on myself to solve my own problems quickly, but I think something like this takes a long time to process and I have to allow myself to do that in whatever way possible. I have to do whatever it takes, and if anger is what it takes, then so be it.
Hence was I functional enough to go out every night last week (thank you, rage, for making me not want to be sedentary), even though my cold was raging and I needed sleep and also more sleep.
I had diner food with PW on Tuesday night. I asked for asparagus in the scrambled eggs and they somehow managed to strip the asparagus of all its wonderful asparagine (heh) properties. I didn't mind, though, as the conversation rendered the cuisine unimportant.
On Wednesday I met D's friend A from Arizona, and her crazy friend D from NYC whose apartment has bed bugs. I loved them both, and cringed only when A said "So I've heard nothing about you so tell me about you!!" which isn't her fault, but oh. How can anyone be dating someone for two years and tell good friends nothing? She said "Well, I've heard that one thing," she said and glanced slyly at D. What? What one thing? How am I not supposed to ask "What one thing?" I am a girl and must know such things! Did she hear the thing about how I was annoyed that he ignored my emails? Does she think I'm insane? Is she angry with me for wanting D to tell me about his days? I repressed all girl-like tendencies and somehow managed not to ask. I wanted to counter with "Well, I've heard nothing about you either," again incriminating D who hadn't mentioned her before and then said "You have to meet my friend A! She's such a good friend!" I had originally deemed her visit unimportant since he'd never mentioned her, but then thought better of it and realized that I can't tell who is and is not important to D since he doesn't ever talk about the people in his life. I was glad that I decided to do the right thing and meet her despite my being sick because she rocks. Hard.
On Thursday CJ arrived with flowers in hand. I haven't seen him since I moved to NYC as he'd been banned from the country until recently. I told him everything, got over it quickly and we went to the roof where we talked relationships and NYC. We ate, drank, returned to the apartment, played with Star Wars figures, and went to bed. Early. Because I was still sick. Sick (drunk?) enough to incorrectly inflate the air mattress which of course deflated and left CJ's elbow on the hard wood floor. Me = worst hostess ever. Well, worst drunken/deliriously ill hostess ever.
Friday was my first ever massage, a gift from D! Yes! I nearly cried when he told me about it. He told me on Tuesday and I was counting down all week. I realized during the massage that I am incapable of relaxing my body and mind. My body felt tense. I had to concentrate on being relaxed. I had to concentrate on not thinking. I had to concentrate on not hearing the sounds of the city outside. I found myself thinking about trees covered in snow. About half an hour through it I was jelly, and was mortified when my hour was up. Euphoric, I called NR and couldn't muster up the energy to plan a location for dinner, so we decided to cancel. I walked the 30 blocks home in the cold because my senses were alive, my stress was low, and I didn't want to ruin my calm state by dealing with the subway.
At home I had a lame dinner, and started to watch Road to Perdition with D but we both fell asleep by 10:15. Bliss. We are lame, and do we care? No! Because we no longer have to impress anyone.
On Saturday morning D and I decided to deconstruct our entire apartment in order to Get Rid of Stuff. Everyone is constantly telling us that we have no stuff, but we are both bothered by how much stuff we have. I think what inspired us most was The Parents' having kept everything for 30 years. Not that we have accumulated much, but there's always room for improvement. I threw away VHS tapes (yes, I did it!) and my Jem wig. We shuffled drawers around and re-organized the closets. Mid-process I left to have lunch with SK, who I haven't seen in way too long. We caught up and were girlie and happy and making lavish plans for our New York selves. Back at the apartment I threw away old bills and MA tax booklets from 1999. I began photographing all the nostalgia I want to get rid of and was surprised when CJ popped in. I was even more surprised when he gave me $60 for four Star Wars commemorative plates. Yes! I took more photos and did more reorganizing when D returned. I even convinced D to utilize the vast space beneath our bed for storage purposes. We tried to finish Road to Perdition but the DVD was scratched. I posted items on Craigslist and some collector websites, read Wired and was asleep by midnight. That's two weekend nights in, folks.
Yesterday I woke up early and took more photos of things to sell. I posted more ads. I scrambled eggs with shallots and felt healthier. D and I headed to the East Village, where we searched for Halloween costumes and met up with NR. I had a fried peanut butter and jelly sandwich for a snack. The three of us then met up with MY and saw The Departed, which was doubly awesome because (a) it was a really good movie (more Tarantino than Scorsese, if you ask me) and (b) Frank Mallicoat was in it. FRANK MALLICOAT from the evening news in Boston! I love Leo. I admit it. It's taken me many years to admit but I admit it. He's a good actor. And hot. He can't not be. He does not age. He's brilliant always. Matt Damon was the ultimate weasle. Run out. See it. UMass represents in it. As does the Dedham Mall. And Somerville! We went out for dinner and rehashed what confused us about the movie. Back at the apartment, I finished up my photography project (goals for the weekend exceeded - all that remains now are the books! woop!), and was asleep, again, by 11:00.
It was the perfect weekend. Relaxed yet ridiculously productive, solitary at times but also social, movie watched, Halloween costume thought of and portion of Halloween costume acquired, emotions mostly ignored (other than anger and how dare they keep calling me about these things?), new project conceived. The only downside was that I still haven't returned phone calls to NL or JQ, and I want to call AS and RR but there is no time and the time difference makes it even more difficult. But I will... I feel things calming down, I feel myself calming down. I am digging the calm to the extent that I declared "I don't think we should go to the Galapagos and Machu Pichu and Easter Island... while that would be the best thing ever, I think it might be a little nuts for us to try to do three different trips in two weeks... many flights... possible stress... what about going to a spa resort instead?" Massages every day! Jacuzzi in the room! Possibly wilderness or ocean outside our door! I think relaxing is in order, and I am nearly certain D will consent.
Heh. Me at a spa. Hilarious, but I think it is the right thing for right now.
Until the next time that I have a spare moment at work....
I've been trying to be very dismissive of work at work, to "work" in the way that everyone else "works," which is not to drive themselves mad. It worked for a few days, and I thought (hoped!) that it would continue through this week. I planned a light week, with little stress, full of errands and side projects but alas! No! Of course not! A meeting at 4:45! More work discussed! For tomorrow! Or else!
I am supposed to be working now but my brain hurts. Oh how it hurts. I can't wait for the call from MF for dinner, which for me will be more liquid than solid.
Nevertheless...
I am feeling more sane these days. Last weekend was revelatory. I harnessed anger instead of sadness and felt mostly functional by the middle of last week. I know these things take time, but I am impatient by nature and also far too self aware. I put pressure on myself to solve my own problems quickly, but I think something like this takes a long time to process and I have to allow myself to do that in whatever way possible. I have to do whatever it takes, and if anger is what it takes, then so be it.
Hence was I functional enough to go out every night last week (thank you, rage, for making me not want to be sedentary), even though my cold was raging and I needed sleep and also more sleep.
I had diner food with PW on Tuesday night. I asked for asparagus in the scrambled eggs and they somehow managed to strip the asparagus of all its wonderful asparagine (heh) properties. I didn't mind, though, as the conversation rendered the cuisine unimportant.
On Wednesday I met D's friend A from Arizona, and her crazy friend D from NYC whose apartment has bed bugs. I loved them both, and cringed only when A said "So I've heard nothing about you so tell me about you!!" which isn't her fault, but oh. How can anyone be dating someone for two years and tell good friends nothing? She said "Well, I've heard that one thing," she said and glanced slyly at D. What? What one thing? How am I not supposed to ask "What one thing?" I am a girl and must know such things! Did she hear the thing about how I was annoyed that he ignored my emails? Does she think I'm insane? Is she angry with me for wanting D to tell me about his days? I repressed all girl-like tendencies and somehow managed not to ask. I wanted to counter with "Well, I've heard nothing about you either," again incriminating D who hadn't mentioned her before and then said "You have to meet my friend A! She's such a good friend!" I had originally deemed her visit unimportant since he'd never mentioned her, but then thought better of it and realized that I can't tell who is and is not important to D since he doesn't ever talk about the people in his life. I was glad that I decided to do the right thing and meet her despite my being sick because she rocks. Hard.
On Thursday CJ arrived with flowers in hand. I haven't seen him since I moved to NYC as he'd been banned from the country until recently. I told him everything, got over it quickly and we went to the roof where we talked relationships and NYC. We ate, drank, returned to the apartment, played with Star Wars figures, and went to bed. Early. Because I was still sick. Sick (drunk?) enough to incorrectly inflate the air mattress which of course deflated and left CJ's elbow on the hard wood floor. Me = worst hostess ever. Well, worst drunken/deliriously ill hostess ever.
Friday was my first ever massage, a gift from D! Yes! I nearly cried when he told me about it. He told me on Tuesday and I was counting down all week. I realized during the massage that I am incapable of relaxing my body and mind. My body felt tense. I had to concentrate on being relaxed. I had to concentrate on not thinking. I had to concentrate on not hearing the sounds of the city outside. I found myself thinking about trees covered in snow. About half an hour through it I was jelly, and was mortified when my hour was up. Euphoric, I called NR and couldn't muster up the energy to plan a location for dinner, so we decided to cancel. I walked the 30 blocks home in the cold because my senses were alive, my stress was low, and I didn't want to ruin my calm state by dealing with the subway.
At home I had a lame dinner, and started to watch Road to Perdition with D but we both fell asleep by 10:15. Bliss. We are lame, and do we care? No! Because we no longer have to impress anyone.
On Saturday morning D and I decided to deconstruct our entire apartment in order to Get Rid of Stuff. Everyone is constantly telling us that we have no stuff, but we are both bothered by how much stuff we have. I think what inspired us most was The Parents' having kept everything for 30 years. Not that we have accumulated much, but there's always room for improvement. I threw away VHS tapes (yes, I did it!) and my Jem wig. We shuffled drawers around and re-organized the closets. Mid-process I left to have lunch with SK, who I haven't seen in way too long. We caught up and were girlie and happy and making lavish plans for our New York selves. Back at the apartment I threw away old bills and MA tax booklets from 1999. I began photographing all the nostalgia I want to get rid of and was surprised when CJ popped in. I was even more surprised when he gave me $60 for four Star Wars commemorative plates. Yes! I took more photos and did more reorganizing when D returned. I even convinced D to utilize the vast space beneath our bed for storage purposes. We tried to finish Road to Perdition but the DVD was scratched. I posted items on Craigslist and some collector websites, read Wired and was asleep by midnight. That's two weekend nights in, folks.
Yesterday I woke up early and took more photos of things to sell. I posted more ads. I scrambled eggs with shallots and felt healthier. D and I headed to the East Village, where we searched for Halloween costumes and met up with NR. I had a fried peanut butter and jelly sandwich for a snack. The three of us then met up with MY and saw The Departed, which was doubly awesome because (a) it was a really good movie (more Tarantino than Scorsese, if you ask me) and (b) Frank Mallicoat was in it. FRANK MALLICOAT from the evening news in Boston! I love Leo. I admit it. It's taken me many years to admit but I admit it. He's a good actor. And hot. He can't not be. He does not age. He's brilliant always. Matt Damon was the ultimate weasle. Run out. See it. UMass represents in it. As does the Dedham Mall. And Somerville! We went out for dinner and rehashed what confused us about the movie. Back at the apartment, I finished up my photography project (goals for the weekend exceeded - all that remains now are the books! woop!), and was asleep, again, by 11:00.
It was the perfect weekend. Relaxed yet ridiculously productive, solitary at times but also social, movie watched, Halloween costume thought of and portion of Halloween costume acquired, emotions mostly ignored (other than anger and how dare they keep calling me about these things?), new project conceived. The only downside was that I still haven't returned phone calls to NL or JQ, and I want to call AS and RR but there is no time and the time difference makes it even more difficult. But I will... I feel things calming down, I feel myself calming down. I am digging the calm to the extent that I declared "I don't think we should go to the Galapagos and Machu Pichu and Easter Island... while that would be the best thing ever, I think it might be a little nuts for us to try to do three different trips in two weeks... many flights... possible stress... what about going to a spa resort instead?" Massages every day! Jacuzzi in the room! Possibly wilderness or ocean outside our door! I think relaxing is in order, and I am nearly certain D will consent.
Heh. Me at a spa. Hilarious, but I think it is the right thing for right now.
Until the next time that I have a spare moment at work....
Thursday, October 12, 2006
And Now For the Things I Couldn't Part With...
My whole life fit in here.
Old records and books on records (Barbie! Strawberry Shortcake! Etc.!).
She-Ra, Princess of Power. I am going to try to sell these on Ebay.
Etch-a-Sketch and his brother Skedoodle. They both still work.
Pile o' Barbies for future art project. Woo hoo!
Oh man, I could not throw away the Sesame Street house. Never!!!!
These are a mere fraction of the salvaged My Little Ponies.
Nobody could ever throw these away.
Charmkins!!?!??!?! Yes!
Strawberry Shortcakes galore!!! And yes, they still smell good.
The Strawberry Shortcake shoes blissed and tripped me out.
And you can't forget the pets. Cutest. Things. Ever.
And then there are the miniature ones. Awesome.
Did anyone else play with Busy Bears? I was nuts about these. Most likely because they are small, and I am nuts about little things.
I was insane and collected (and personified) erasers. I did not throw them away.
Dear god, my charm necklace (color coordinated, of course)!
Care Bears. The stuffed ones did not fare so well in the attic.
Dolly Pops, old school.
These are not even all of the smurfs.
And finally, the sticker books.
That's all for now, but there's more where these came from. Stay tuned.
Old records and books on records (Barbie! Strawberry Shortcake! Etc.!).
She-Ra, Princess of Power. I am going to try to sell these on Ebay.
Etch-a-Sketch and his brother Skedoodle. They both still work.
Pile o' Barbies for future art project. Woo hoo!
Oh man, I could not throw away the Sesame Street house. Never!!!!
These are a mere fraction of the salvaged My Little Ponies.
Nobody could ever throw these away.
Charmkins!!?!??!?! Yes!
Strawberry Shortcakes galore!!! And yes, they still smell good.
The Strawberry Shortcake shoes blissed and tripped me out.
And you can't forget the pets. Cutest. Things. Ever.
And then there are the miniature ones. Awesome.
Did anyone else play with Busy Bears? I was nuts about these. Most likely because they are small, and I am nuts about little things.
I was insane and collected (and personified) erasers. I did not throw them away.
Dear god, my charm necklace (color coordinated, of course)!
Care Bears. The stuffed ones did not fare so well in the attic.
Dolly Pops, old school.
These are not even all of the smurfs.
And finally, the sticker books.
That's all for now, but there's more where these came from. Stay tuned.
Trashed Nostalgia
The My Little Pony stable didn't make the cut.
Scooter didn't survive time very well.
Stuffed fruit people - no idea what these are, who they belonged to, but I remember having mad affection for them. And where are they? At the dump!
Remnants of the "Berry Bake Shoppe," and a stray Jem doll that was in the house. I threw the rest of them out in the yard for dump transport.
The games? All gone!
We wanted to keep the Lite Brite but the cord was moldy. Devastation.
Good bye, Ewok Village.
Au revoir, Castle Grey Skull.
Oh how we loved this camping set. And now its gone!
Fisher Price cash register? Hours of fun.
Jem's guitar. Gone.
About 1/20 of what we tossed this past weekend. Please note Jem's apartment, en route to the dump.
My Little Pony Castle and Millennium Falcon being throw away together.
See you on the other side, Ouija Board.
No, not the Jem stage! I just can't take it.
I didn't start taking pictures until we were virtually finished going through things. There just wasn't time. This barely represents the things we parted with.
Scooter didn't survive time very well.
Stuffed fruit people - no idea what these are, who they belonged to, but I remember having mad affection for them. And where are they? At the dump!
Remnants of the "Berry Bake Shoppe," and a stray Jem doll that was in the house. I threw the rest of them out in the yard for dump transport.
The games? All gone!
We wanted to keep the Lite Brite but the cord was moldy. Devastation.
Good bye, Ewok Village.
Au revoir, Castle Grey Skull.
Oh how we loved this camping set. And now its gone!
Fisher Price cash register? Hours of fun.
Jem's guitar. Gone.
About 1/20 of what we tossed this past weekend. Please note Jem's apartment, en route to the dump.
My Little Pony Castle and Millennium Falcon being throw away together.
See you on the other side, Ouija Board.
No, not the Jem stage! I just can't take it.
I didn't start taking pictures until we were virtually finished going through things. There just wasn't time. This barely represents the things we parted with.
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