I'm not sure if I nearly had a coronary because I'd forgotten my camera bag at the bar with nearly $3000 worth of essentials within, or because I am and have always been and will always be ridiculously out of shape and still drunkenly ran across the street through thick traffic in order to retrieve it.
It was thankfully right where I'd left it, and when I ran back to catch the train I thought I might die, or at the very least that my heart was somehow making its way up into my throat and was going to strangle me as a punishment for being the worst student ever.
I've shied away from blogging for fear that the blog will only read the following, depending on what moment I chose to write:
"I'm so insecure!"
"Everyone's better than me!"
"People finally looked at the photos and there was positivity!"
"Everyone must be rich!"
"I am inadequate!"
"I've been sheltered!"
"I haven't had a professional job yet and am not taken seriously!"
"I don't know how anyone cares this much about tripods!"
"I don't want to be a student at all times."
"I want to be working on the musical instead."
"If I have to attach my card reader one more time I will scream. Loudly."
"I can't believe I have to buy another computer! Oh, the anxiety!"
"I heart photography!"
"I hate photography!"
I'm settling into this new life and it's taking much longer than I'd anticipated. Also unanticipated is the slacker persona that I seem to have adopted. I'm not as motivated as everyone else is, I'm not as motivated as I should be. I'm trying to figure out why. I think I've been spoiled by salaried work. For the past nine years I've been segregating day and night, and full time students aren't supposed to do that. Yet I'm still doing that. I'm succeeding, so right now there's no reason to behave differently, other than my feeling a sort of isolation from my classmates but I'm not entirely sure that I care.
See? This entry goes under the heading "I'm so insecure!"
I am going to get back into the swing of blogging. I will designate two hours a night for photography (yeah, right), one hour for blogging and corresponding, and the rest will be set aside for recreation of some sort - TV, musical-writing, talking-with-boyfriend.
Right.
I am supposed to be doing "photography" right now, but I am not.
OK. I will. I am going to set up my tripod! I am going to see if it's acceptable! If it is not acceptable I will be buying a new tripod along with new computer and flash accessories and hundreds of dollars in software!
Ah, student life.
The poverty comes quick.
More soon.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
I Hope It's Not An Omen
When D and I attempted to move from NYC to Waltham, we encountered all manner of difficulty due to poor planning. The poor planning resulted in our having to discard many of our possessions at the last minute, including a perfectly functional microwave that was immediately picked up by a jovial homeless man who did the dance of joy upon looting it along with our mop and broom. Fortuitously, Brother and His Fiance were in need of a new floor mirror, so they were able to take our mirror which we may have had to throw away.
I was happy to get rid of it, as it gave me an excuse to buy the mirror I'd seen at Straight From the Crate on 23rd Street. We didn't buy it in NYC because I already had a mirror at the time and because we wouldn't have been able to fit it in the car on our move to MA (even though D kept insisting we would have plenty of space in the car, for a mirror and even for a new dresser! you should all be proud of me for not once saying "I told you so" and for blaming myself for not being more insistent, because I knew but I didn't want the confrontation). I decided to order it online once I got to MA.
Of course it wasn't available on the Straight From the Crate website. Of course! I could have called, but given the track record I've had with customer service related things in NYC, I decided to avoid Straight From the Crate altogether.
I miraculously managed to find the very same mirror online at multiple sources by googling "Chrome Floor Mirror." I ordered it from the cheapest place, some weird furniture vendor in NJ.
I ordered it three weeks ago. It finally arrived today after two mean/exasperated phone calls by me last week and the week before begging them to actually ship it. They shipped it on Saturday.
This has been a somewhat desperate situation as the only mirror in the new apartment is the very, very small mirror on the medicine cabinet that I have to stand on my tiptoes to see myself in. I haven't seen my body in a month.
This is all tolerable, but I want to look cute for my first day of school, which is on Monday. I would like to be able to create a nice first-day-of-school ensemble. I would like to be able to see my shirt and head at the same time. I would like to be able to coordinate my hair with my shirt that I can actually see.
Of course the mirror arrived completely shattered.
I have been checking the tracking nonstop, unable to control my excitement. I have been singing "The awesome mirror is coming today!" song all day.
I have asked for another one, but I know its going to take another three weeks.
Could I shop for one locally? Yes.
But this mirror is cheap, and I've waited this long, and I love it love it love it. And after all this, I deserve to have this mirror, intact and glorious!
Would anyone like a broken floor mirror? Apparently I don't have to send this one back. You can have it and have your own glass cut. Or maybe you know someone who cuts mirror glass and he/she will do it for free! And you will have an awesome free chrome floor mirror!
Sigh. Settling in drags on and on. Still no COBRA paperwork or 401k rollover information from the old place of employment. I want to place a phone call and yell "Would you please for the love of god stop playing Solitaire and do your job and send us the COBRA information so my beloved does not experience a lapse in coverage?"
The first email I sent was responded to instantly with "The COBRA form generator has been broken and I've been meaning to fix it; you should receive the information by the end of the week and if you don't then please let me know." So she knew! Ergh. I sent the requested follow-up email that said "We didn't get the COBRA stuff." That email, of course, was ignored.
Apparently the lapse is meaningless and apparently we will still be covered, but I don't trust health insurance companies, and I don't trust lapses in coverage, and I don't believe that it will be easy to prove anything in the gray area between actual health insurance and COBRA.
I don't believe that anything is ever easy. When we received our security deposit in the mail, we were suspicious. When I got my tax refund after the NYC snafu, I thought "This can't be a real check... something will go wrong."
I want the New Yorker in me to be killed by Waltham, but broken mirrors and lack of health insurance is making it nearly impossible.
The good news is that my video conversion project is officially finished as of right now, which means I have four whole days to actually enjoy a life of unemployed leisure before going to school. I am very excited. I have a new haircut that cost less than half of what I would have paid in NYC. I have new robot plates that arrived intact. The central air was allegedly fixed this morning (although I tried it just now and I swear it was actually generating heat) so we can have more than one person over during the summer without everyone passing out. The piano is here and the damage is done to the door and stairwell but at least its here.
Life is good but it could be better, but its mostly good.
I was happy to get rid of it, as it gave me an excuse to buy the mirror I'd seen at Straight From the Crate on 23rd Street. We didn't buy it in NYC because I already had a mirror at the time and because we wouldn't have been able to fit it in the car on our move to MA (even though D kept insisting we would have plenty of space in the car, for a mirror and even for a new dresser! you should all be proud of me for not once saying "I told you so" and for blaming myself for not being more insistent, because I knew but I didn't want the confrontation). I decided to order it online once I got to MA.
Of course it wasn't available on the Straight From the Crate website. Of course! I could have called, but given the track record I've had with customer service related things in NYC, I decided to avoid Straight From the Crate altogether.
I miraculously managed to find the very same mirror online at multiple sources by googling "Chrome Floor Mirror." I ordered it from the cheapest place, some weird furniture vendor in NJ.
I ordered it three weeks ago. It finally arrived today after two mean/exasperated phone calls by me last week and the week before begging them to actually ship it. They shipped it on Saturday.
This has been a somewhat desperate situation as the only mirror in the new apartment is the very, very small mirror on the medicine cabinet that I have to stand on my tiptoes to see myself in. I haven't seen my body in a month.
This is all tolerable, but I want to look cute for my first day of school, which is on Monday. I would like to be able to create a nice first-day-of-school ensemble. I would like to be able to see my shirt and head at the same time. I would like to be able to coordinate my hair with my shirt that I can actually see.
Of course the mirror arrived completely shattered.
I have been checking the tracking nonstop, unable to control my excitement. I have been singing "The awesome mirror is coming today!" song all day.
I have asked for another one, but I know its going to take another three weeks.
Could I shop for one locally? Yes.
But this mirror is cheap, and I've waited this long, and I love it love it love it. And after all this, I deserve to have this mirror, intact and glorious!
Would anyone like a broken floor mirror? Apparently I don't have to send this one back. You can have it and have your own glass cut. Or maybe you know someone who cuts mirror glass and he/she will do it for free! And you will have an awesome free chrome floor mirror!
Sigh. Settling in drags on and on. Still no COBRA paperwork or 401k rollover information from the old place of employment. I want to place a phone call and yell "Would you please for the love of god stop playing Solitaire and do your job and send us the COBRA information so my beloved does not experience a lapse in coverage?"
The first email I sent was responded to instantly with "The COBRA form generator has been broken and I've been meaning to fix it; you should receive the information by the end of the week and if you don't then please let me know." So she knew! Ergh. I sent the requested follow-up email that said "We didn't get the COBRA stuff." That email, of course, was ignored.
Apparently the lapse is meaningless and apparently we will still be covered, but I don't trust health insurance companies, and I don't trust lapses in coverage, and I don't believe that it will be easy to prove anything in the gray area between actual health insurance and COBRA.
I don't believe that anything is ever easy. When we received our security deposit in the mail, we were suspicious. When I got my tax refund after the NYC snafu, I thought "This can't be a real check... something will go wrong."
I want the New Yorker in me to be killed by Waltham, but broken mirrors and lack of health insurance is making it nearly impossible.
The good news is that my video conversion project is officially finished as of right now, which means I have four whole days to actually enjoy a life of unemployed leisure before going to school. I am very excited. I have a new haircut that cost less than half of what I would have paid in NYC. I have new robot plates that arrived intact. The central air was allegedly fixed this morning (although I tried it just now and I swear it was actually generating heat) so we can have more than one person over during the summer without everyone passing out. The piano is here and the damage is done to the door and stairwell but at least its here.
Life is good but it could be better, but its mostly good.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Revelation of the Day
Brother's 5th grade chorus sang one of the same songs as my 5th grade chorus!
"Inch by inch, row by row, gonna make this garden grow!"
Oh, the confusion. I was singing along, looking at the kids, thinking "Wait, those aren't my classmates... wtf?"
And now Brother is doing a solo. I can't handle it. I keep dreaming that I'm in high school and wake up cross after discovering that I am an adult.
My siblings are lucky that I love them as much as I do because ancient home videos could be a You Tube extravaganza. If I was to post this, Brother could easily retaliate by posting a clip from my 1990 birthday party sleepover at which large-glasses-me and my friends sing Biz Markie's "Just A Friend" at the top of our lungs, followed by the theme song from "The Brady Bunch."
It keeps getting better and better.
Oh my! Brother is doing a solo of The Sound of Music's "So Long, Farewell!"
"Cuckoo, cuckoo...."
"Inch by inch, row by row, gonna make this garden grow!"
Oh, the confusion. I was singing along, looking at the kids, thinking "Wait, those aren't my classmates... wtf?"
And now Brother is doing a solo. I can't handle it. I keep dreaming that I'm in high school and wake up cross after discovering that I am an adult.
My siblings are lucky that I love them as much as I do because ancient home videos could be a You Tube extravaganza. If I was to post this, Brother could easily retaliate by posting a clip from my 1990 birthday party sleepover at which large-glasses-me and my friends sing Biz Markie's "Just A Friend" at the top of our lungs, followed by the theme song from "The Brady Bunch."
It keeps getting better and better.
Oh my! Brother is doing a solo of The Sound of Music's "So Long, Farewell!"
"Cuckoo, cuckoo...."
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Oh, The Drama
I am watching the news. I have been extraordinarily out of touch with the world since moving. I don't get the paper, we are without a radio that actually functions, and when I'm in front of the TV I am staring at old home videos instead of watching TV or dealing with the pile of Netflixes that has accumulated.
There was just a melodramatic story about Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. It consisted of clips from a Dateline episode that's going to air some time soon and Angie's new movie and Brad's production and blah blah blah and this is why it's challenging to watch the news. Do I really care what Angelina thinks about "the courageous woman at the heart of her new movie?" No.
Do I care about the fires and the whales? Yes.
Bush not wearing a seatbelt? No.
A car crashing into a day care center? Yes.
The Red Sox? Forgive me, no.
I really, really, really wish that I had something other than basic analog cable so I could watch CNN.
Oh my, Angelina's on again and she's "haunted" by the film!
Why don't they just interview Mariane Pearl?
Oh, Brad.
There was just a melodramatic story about Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. It consisted of clips from a Dateline episode that's going to air some time soon and Angie's new movie and Brad's production and blah blah blah and this is why it's challenging to watch the news. Do I really care what Angelina thinks about "the courageous woman at the heart of her new movie?" No.
Do I care about the fires and the whales? Yes.
Bush not wearing a seatbelt? No.
A car crashing into a day care center? Yes.
The Red Sox? Forgive me, no.
I really, really, really wish that I had something other than basic analog cable so I could watch CNN.
Oh my, Angelina's on again and she's "haunted" by the film!
Why don't they just interview Mariane Pearl?
Oh, Brad.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
The Piano Is Moving
Piano movers are currently attempting to bring Father's first piano into my apartment.
My instinct is to help - one of them just said "SHIT" and "My body is sliding down because I'm on the pad" and "Can you hold this for a second?" There is obviously nothing I can do. It is difficult to watch people suffering in your house and to be helpless. Witnessing this makes me think that the $400 I am paying them to do this, which I originally deemed "Ridiculous!," is not enough.
It is also ridiculous that people routinely suggest that I move the piano myself. D used to be one of these people. Clearly most people have never seen a piano coming up stairs.
I didn't want to take Father's piano. I was trying my best to find a better (preferably free), less emotionally distressing piano on Craigslist. I found and instantly became attached to one - an ancient upright grand with ivory keys, big sound, amazing action, and, most fabulously, a coat of white paint making it the weirdest, most wonderful piano ever. Slated to buy it, I worked out endless details with its owner, including her having to remove the stairs from her bulkhead entrance so the piano could be craned out of her ex-basement (the stairs wouldn't hold the weight, it would require 7 guys, etc. etc.). She didn't anticipate the absurd cost of replacing basement stairs, thus trapping my piano in her basement for eternity.
I took this as a sign, and immediately scheduled a move for Father's piano.
This means piano practicing in my last week and a half of unemployment. It's amazing how quickly it's going. Project Convert-VHS-Home-Movies-to-DVD is consuming all of my time. This is a project more happily accomplished in poor weather. It was frustrating yesterday being confined to the couch when the sun finally came out.
I'm copying one right now in which my 12-year-old-self said "Brother, you're such an idiot!" while awkwardly playing non-basketball in our driveway. Oh, the awkward years immortalized and revisited.
This project has been a bit more traumatic than I'd anticipated. It's fascinating to see where you came from - why you are the way you are. Watching my parents as a youngish married couple has been enlightening. Watching the endless lip syncing and dance routines and slew of insane child behavior has been a riot. Seeing my high school friends has me longing for a gang and stalking people. I am realizing that I was as happy as I was angsty, but for some reason I remember only the angst.
And somehow I forgot the horrific fashions. The 80s were a cruel decade.
And what happened to the extended family? Is it because we moved away? Is it because we did something different?
Right now there are pink tights, three pairs of socks (scrunched, of course), and high tops, folks.
I'm off now to have full priced martinis and happy hour sale food with Sister.
Until tomorrow...
My instinct is to help - one of them just said "SHIT" and "My body is sliding down because I'm on the pad" and "Can you hold this for a second?" There is obviously nothing I can do. It is difficult to watch people suffering in your house and to be helpless. Witnessing this makes me think that the $400 I am paying them to do this, which I originally deemed "Ridiculous!," is not enough.
It is also ridiculous that people routinely suggest that I move the piano myself. D used to be one of these people. Clearly most people have never seen a piano coming up stairs.
I didn't want to take Father's piano. I was trying my best to find a better (preferably free), less emotionally distressing piano on Craigslist. I found and instantly became attached to one - an ancient upright grand with ivory keys, big sound, amazing action, and, most fabulously, a coat of white paint making it the weirdest, most wonderful piano ever. Slated to buy it, I worked out endless details with its owner, including her having to remove the stairs from her bulkhead entrance so the piano could be craned out of her ex-basement (the stairs wouldn't hold the weight, it would require 7 guys, etc. etc.). She didn't anticipate the absurd cost of replacing basement stairs, thus trapping my piano in her basement for eternity.
I took this as a sign, and immediately scheduled a move for Father's piano.
This means piano practicing in my last week and a half of unemployment. It's amazing how quickly it's going. Project Convert-VHS-Home-Movies-to-DVD is consuming all of my time. This is a project more happily accomplished in poor weather. It was frustrating yesterday being confined to the couch when the sun finally came out.
I'm copying one right now in which my 12-year-old-self said "Brother, you're such an idiot!" while awkwardly playing non-basketball in our driveway. Oh, the awkward years immortalized and revisited.
This project has been a bit more traumatic than I'd anticipated. It's fascinating to see where you came from - why you are the way you are. Watching my parents as a youngish married couple has been enlightening. Watching the endless lip syncing and dance routines and slew of insane child behavior has been a riot. Seeing my high school friends has me longing for a gang and stalking people. I am realizing that I was as happy as I was angsty, but for some reason I remember only the angst.
And somehow I forgot the horrific fashions. The 80s were a cruel decade.
And what happened to the extended family? Is it because we moved away? Is it because we did something different?
Right now there are pink tights, three pairs of socks (scrunched, of course), and high tops, folks.
I'm off now to have full priced martinis and happy hour sale food with Sister.
Until tomorrow...
Monday, April 30, 2007
Everybody Wang Chung
A conspiracy exists that prevents people from downloading Wang Chung's Dance Hall Days from the internet.
This is only slightly less annoying than not being able to download one's own legally purchased music from one's Ipod to one's computer.
***
After chopping off most of my hair (not quite Britney-level, but now I'm wishing I had!) and enjoying the cut for approximately one week, the 1 cm of growth has since destroyed the cut's shape and is making me appear as though I am a soccer mom.
I have tried a million different styling techniques and no matter what I do the hairs remain uncooperative. I do not look like someone from America's Next Top Model, which was my goal. Curses.
This will require a rescue haircut once I am a permanent resident of Waltham.
***
The farewells are going well. I've seen nearly everyone who needs to be seen, and am now in party-planning mode. We will celebrate our departure on Friday night with a giant-empty-apartment dance party and roof gazing.
The work farewell lunch is on Thursday afternoon. It is going to be catered. This is not typical of the company, but for The Golden Boy, no extravagance is to be turned down!
There will most likely be a work happy hour function on Thursday night, where I will most likely make small talk about my departure with a cohort of people to whom I've never spoken.
***
I am starting to dread the mass farewell on Friday. There will definitely be tears.
Missing people is a weird phenomenon that is highly unpredictable. You think you'll miss certain people, you think you won't miss others, but as the farewells approach, you realize you really have no idea who you're going to miss most.
I predict that there will be tears when I say goodbye to NR, E, and especially R, because there's something special there.
No, there was something special there and now it's gone, making it that much more sad.
***
On Saturday night I had a dream about someone I miss from the past who I never consciously realize I miss. It was nice to see him, and when I woke up I was very shocked that the whole thing hadn't been real.
***
The move was too smooth. I suspect that when we return to MA the apartment will have been robbed and all of our smoothly relocated possessions will be gone, or worse, thrashed around into non-organized piles.
***
The apartment is huge.
***
The apartment isn't much bigger than our current apartment, but for some reason it feels twice the size.
***
Nobody wants to buy my microwave.
***
Our new neighbor has a box that once stored a gun rack in our shared hallway. We will be very, very quiet in our new apartment.
***
We met all of our neighbors within the first 30 minutes of moving in. It is the sort of situation where you can ask your neighbors to collect your mail for you when you are on vacation. It is also the sort of situation where your downstairs neighbor asks you, within five seconds of meeting you, how much your rent is. D said "Let's not get too close to C." I said "Let's not piss off D since he apparently has guns on the other side of our wall."
***
There is akwardness because we were told that the shower/tub would have glass doors. It does not, which is not an issue except for the fact that there is not a shower curtain rod. This is not an issue except that they may not be finished with the apartment and we would like to know if we need to get a curtain rod or not, but we don't want to ask because there's no way to avoid sounding accusatory when saying "We were told that there would be glass doors in the shower and there are not and we were just wondering if there actually are going to be because we would like to know if we need to buy a rod."
I sort of think they're not finished, but I don't want to say anything because it might sound like "Hurry up!"
We were distressed this weekend as we would have liked to have bathed post move for obvious reasons. D tried to shower without a curtain which wasn't that good of an idea, but he didn't have much of a choice as he had an interview on Sunday afternoon.
***
The counter space is bad. We will have to buy some sort of cart with chopping surface.
***
The cabinet space is great, but because of shelf design there is not a single cabinet area high enough to house cereal, which is just not an option. Therefore we will have to buy some sort of extra cabinet thing, preferably combined with a chopping surface.
***
We have a room that right now has nothing in it. I am going to get my first ever desk!
***
Being at work is a formality. I have nothing to do. I've had nothing to do. My bench is organized, the files have been transferred, the personal belongings have all disappeared. I may shop tomorrow, or go to a museum, or just go home and nap for four hours.
***
I am exhausted.
***
Our NY apartment has nothing in it but an air mattress, bedside clock, stereo, TV, a few plates and bowls and glasses, and clothes. It's not an entirely minimalist lifestyle.
There is nothing more strange, though, than an apartment without a single surface upon which to sit.
You stand in the middle of the apartment, lingering, with nothing to do.
I had my cereal this morning in the window sill.
I generated the playlist for the party on the air mattress last night and messed up my back before I even tried to sleep.
***
We talked too much last night since we hadn't really spend any time together all weekend.
There were apparently things to talk about.
We are both very excited.
We are both very exhausted today.
***
I really wish I was in MA. This week is a waste of time. Well, not really. I will see friends and eat nice dinners and drink too much and fill holes and change addresses, but being in an empty apartment or at a job where there's nothing to do is ridiculous.
***
I'm not sure what I'm going to do during my month off. I was thinking of travelling but now that we need so much furniture (and a rescue haircut, dammit!) I don't think I should be spending that sort of money.
So I'll be looking for a job and a piano and other furniture and writing a musical.
***
I'll probably spend a lot of time with Mother. Hopefully she'll be all about housewarming and will make curtains or something.
***
I'll probably spend a lot of time with Father since we'll both be unemployed.
***
I should probably be looking for some sort of job now instead of blogging.
Until whenever...
This is only slightly less annoying than not being able to download one's own legally purchased music from one's Ipod to one's computer.
***
After chopping off most of my hair (not quite Britney-level, but now I'm wishing I had!) and enjoying the cut for approximately one week, the 1 cm of growth has since destroyed the cut's shape and is making me appear as though I am a soccer mom.
I have tried a million different styling techniques and no matter what I do the hairs remain uncooperative. I do not look like someone from America's Next Top Model, which was my goal. Curses.
This will require a rescue haircut once I am a permanent resident of Waltham.
***
The farewells are going well. I've seen nearly everyone who needs to be seen, and am now in party-planning mode. We will celebrate our departure on Friday night with a giant-empty-apartment dance party and roof gazing.
The work farewell lunch is on Thursday afternoon. It is going to be catered. This is not typical of the company, but for The Golden Boy, no extravagance is to be turned down!
There will most likely be a work happy hour function on Thursday night, where I will most likely make small talk about my departure with a cohort of people to whom I've never spoken.
***
I am starting to dread the mass farewell on Friday. There will definitely be tears.
Missing people is a weird phenomenon that is highly unpredictable. You think you'll miss certain people, you think you won't miss others, but as the farewells approach, you realize you really have no idea who you're going to miss most.
I predict that there will be tears when I say goodbye to NR, E, and especially R, because there's something special there.
No, there was something special there and now it's gone, making it that much more sad.
***
On Saturday night I had a dream about someone I miss from the past who I never consciously realize I miss. It was nice to see him, and when I woke up I was very shocked that the whole thing hadn't been real.
***
The move was too smooth. I suspect that when we return to MA the apartment will have been robbed and all of our smoothly relocated possessions will be gone, or worse, thrashed around into non-organized piles.
***
The apartment is huge.
***
The apartment isn't much bigger than our current apartment, but for some reason it feels twice the size.
***
Nobody wants to buy my microwave.
***
Our new neighbor has a box that once stored a gun rack in our shared hallway. We will be very, very quiet in our new apartment.
***
We met all of our neighbors within the first 30 minutes of moving in. It is the sort of situation where you can ask your neighbors to collect your mail for you when you are on vacation. It is also the sort of situation where your downstairs neighbor asks you, within five seconds of meeting you, how much your rent is. D said "Let's not get too close to C." I said "Let's not piss off D since he apparently has guns on the other side of our wall."
***
There is akwardness because we were told that the shower/tub would have glass doors. It does not, which is not an issue except for the fact that there is not a shower curtain rod. This is not an issue except that they may not be finished with the apartment and we would like to know if we need to get a curtain rod or not, but we don't want to ask because there's no way to avoid sounding accusatory when saying "We were told that there would be glass doors in the shower and there are not and we were just wondering if there actually are going to be because we would like to know if we need to buy a rod."
I sort of think they're not finished, but I don't want to say anything because it might sound like "Hurry up!"
We were distressed this weekend as we would have liked to have bathed post move for obvious reasons. D tried to shower without a curtain which wasn't that good of an idea, but he didn't have much of a choice as he had an interview on Sunday afternoon.
***
The counter space is bad. We will have to buy some sort of cart with chopping surface.
***
The cabinet space is great, but because of shelf design there is not a single cabinet area high enough to house cereal, which is just not an option. Therefore we will have to buy some sort of extra cabinet thing, preferably combined with a chopping surface.
***
We have a room that right now has nothing in it. I am going to get my first ever desk!
***
Being at work is a formality. I have nothing to do. I've had nothing to do. My bench is organized, the files have been transferred, the personal belongings have all disappeared. I may shop tomorrow, or go to a museum, or just go home and nap for four hours.
***
I am exhausted.
***
Our NY apartment has nothing in it but an air mattress, bedside clock, stereo, TV, a few plates and bowls and glasses, and clothes. It's not an entirely minimalist lifestyle.
There is nothing more strange, though, than an apartment without a single surface upon which to sit.
You stand in the middle of the apartment, lingering, with nothing to do.
I had my cereal this morning in the window sill.
I generated the playlist for the party on the air mattress last night and messed up my back before I even tried to sleep.
***
We talked too much last night since we hadn't really spend any time together all weekend.
There were apparently things to talk about.
We are both very excited.
We are both very exhausted today.
***
I really wish I was in MA. This week is a waste of time. Well, not really. I will see friends and eat nice dinners and drink too much and fill holes and change addresses, but being in an empty apartment or at a job where there's nothing to do is ridiculous.
***
I'm not sure what I'm going to do during my month off. I was thinking of travelling but now that we need so much furniture (and a rescue haircut, dammit!) I don't think I should be spending that sort of money.
So I'll be looking for a job and a piano and other furniture and writing a musical.
***
I'll probably spend a lot of time with Mother. Hopefully she'll be all about housewarming and will make curtains or something.
***
I'll probably spend a lot of time with Father since we'll both be unemployed.
***
I should probably be looking for some sort of job now instead of blogging.
Until whenever...
Thursday, April 19, 2007
It's so weird how once you've announced that you are leaving, people take a sudden interest in you. I want to say "I've seen you every day for the last two and a half years and you've said nothing to me, and now you want to know my life story?"
I shouldn't act jaded. I will miss these people.
I won't miss people saying "Oh, interesting... let's talk about D." I can't tell you how many people here who upon hearing that I am off to photography school say "D's artistic, right? He paints! And he's so musically talented! And he's so good at his job. He will be missed."
I won't miss being in a shadow. It's a weird feeling to experience as an adult.
Our exit interviews were scheduled together. Clearly we have nothing to say as independent entities. Although somehow I feel that people don't gush to him about me the way they gush to me about him. When I resigned, we spent no time talking about me and only talking about how multi-talented D is and how very smart he is (smarter than everyone!) and how he can succeed at anything and, again, such a loss for the company.
It's not his fault that he's The Golden Boy in every group. It's the group's fault for failing to recognize that The Golden Boy could, in fact, have good taste in who he chooses to spend his time with.
Moods are down now. The weather doesn't help, nor does The News. D still doesn't have a job, and I understand. I do. In spite of this understanding I can't help but be nervous about embarking on huge life changes when moods are down.
I'm bored at work. The Boss is getting married and doesn't see anything other than choosing a caterer and dealing with invitations as important. This is cute since he's a man, but I am only here for two more weeks and I have a sneaking suspicion that there are things that I should be doing.
I literally have nothing to do here tomorrow.
I am sick again. The stomach flu is back, if that's what it is. I didn't eat breakfast and I am not going to eat lunch because I have to give a presentation at 3 and would like not to have to run out in the middle of it to purge my lunch.
It is not a good time to get sick. I had to cancel a farewell dinner with LL last night because I didn't want to eat. Well, I wouldn't have minded eating but I was nervous about the 45 minute commute home from the restaurant. We've rescheduled for Sunday night, but shouldn't I be packing on Sunday night? I am supposed to eat with NR tonight and I guess if I am feeling bad I can hop in a cab and jump out again if need be. Awshummm.
I started packing last night. There are never going to be enough boxes.
I also just found out that we can move next Saturday, which gives me a week to sort through everything. This would totally feasible if I wasn't going out every night.
I'm surprisingly unstressed.
I cut off most of my hair.
I found two new amazing restaurants in my last month here. Tragic.
I can't wait to be equals.
Next Wednesday is a big day and I sort of forgot because there are other things going on, which sort of makes me no better than him.
I want a hot pink desk chair for my new apartment, where there might be possibly be a desk.
That is all.
I shouldn't act jaded. I will miss these people.
I won't miss people saying "Oh, interesting... let's talk about D." I can't tell you how many people here who upon hearing that I am off to photography school say "D's artistic, right? He paints! And he's so musically talented! And he's so good at his job. He will be missed."
I won't miss being in a shadow. It's a weird feeling to experience as an adult.
Our exit interviews were scheduled together. Clearly we have nothing to say as independent entities. Although somehow I feel that people don't gush to him about me the way they gush to me about him. When I resigned, we spent no time talking about me and only talking about how multi-talented D is and how very smart he is (smarter than everyone!) and how he can succeed at anything and, again, such a loss for the company.
It's not his fault that he's The Golden Boy in every group. It's the group's fault for failing to recognize that The Golden Boy could, in fact, have good taste in who he chooses to spend his time with.
Moods are down now. The weather doesn't help, nor does The News. D still doesn't have a job, and I understand. I do. In spite of this understanding I can't help but be nervous about embarking on huge life changes when moods are down.
I'm bored at work. The Boss is getting married and doesn't see anything other than choosing a caterer and dealing with invitations as important. This is cute since he's a man, but I am only here for two more weeks and I have a sneaking suspicion that there are things that I should be doing.
I literally have nothing to do here tomorrow.
I am sick again. The stomach flu is back, if that's what it is. I didn't eat breakfast and I am not going to eat lunch because I have to give a presentation at 3 and would like not to have to run out in the middle of it to purge my lunch.
It is not a good time to get sick. I had to cancel a farewell dinner with LL last night because I didn't want to eat. Well, I wouldn't have minded eating but I was nervous about the 45 minute commute home from the restaurant. We've rescheduled for Sunday night, but shouldn't I be packing on Sunday night? I am supposed to eat with NR tonight and I guess if I am feeling bad I can hop in a cab and jump out again if need be. Awshummm.
I started packing last night. There are never going to be enough boxes.
I also just found out that we can move next Saturday, which gives me a week to sort through everything. This would totally feasible if I wasn't going out every night.
I'm surprisingly unstressed.
I cut off most of my hair.
I found two new amazing restaurants in my last month here. Tragic.
I can't wait to be equals.
Next Wednesday is a big day and I sort of forgot because there are other things going on, which sort of makes me no better than him.
I want a hot pink desk chair for my new apartment, where there might be possibly be a desk.
That is all.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Still Alive
Hello.
The blog lives.
I'll be back once I've finished selling everything on Craigslist and transferring technology at work and gathering boxes and dealing with tax filing and paying tuition and dining with everyone one last time and packing and address changing and...
Yeah.
The blog will be back soon.
The blog lives.
I'll be back once I've finished selling everything on Craigslist and transferring technology at work and gathering boxes and dealing with tax filing and paying tuition and dining with everyone one last time and packing and address changing and...
Yeah.
The blog will be back soon.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Let The Mayhem Begin!
I am moving in less than a month.
An apartment has been secured. The lease will be signed this coming weekend, after which we will drive back to NYC at the speed of light in order to attend the karaoke party that I'd previously planned for that night.
I have to give notice to The Boss. I psyched myself up all weekend, worried all night, rehearsed the speech wherein I say things like "It's not you, it's me" and feel like I'm breaking up with someone even though I'm not. I planned my entire day around it, and is he here? No! Another anxious night.
PW is coming over for gorgonzola ravioli with TBD sauce tonight. So begins the month-long marathon of socializing with those who will be missed. I am going to miss The Girls at work, R, and three friends to the point of being crippled with sadness. I will miss other people and things, but I don't think I'll be sad. I never really planted roots here.
D and I are both thrilled about our apartment. We brought D's little camera but forgot to take pictures because we were far too busy bouncing around and mouthing "This is apartment is AWE-some" behind the realtor's back. We have plenty of photos of the 9 apartments we didn't want.
Apartment hunting in MA isn't nearly as painful as it is here. We actually liked the realtor. There isn't even a fee!
We have to start selling things on Craigslist. We have to dump three dressers, a TV and fireplace utensils before we leave. We'll buy a new dresser, new TV, and bigger bed (!) when we get to MA. The guests will be able to sleep on the old bed, which will be in the spare bedroom, because there is going to be a spare bedroom. The realtors were confused when we criticized certain apartments as being "too big," but coming from NYC one is without extra anything.
The weekend was nice. I was enthusiastic after having finally sold the piano. I located the light meter I need for school on Craigslist. I received a phone call from the delinquent piano movers from the last move apologizing a year later and offering me a discount on my next move for not telling the person who bought the piano that their services suck. I got my federal return. I got an award at work. Things between D and I have been spectacular. Things on the list are being crossed out one after another.
It was nice but intense to see Mother. I asked her not to get between Father and I, and told her that I'll handle things whenever and however I see fit. I told her I didn't think it was her place to be intervening, or really to be talking to him at all. She agreed, of course, and we commisserated about critical families and she supported my stance on not attending Easter.
I got to see Sister, too. We devoured food at Diva. Is there anything better than lentil soup? No, there is not. We got drinks at The Burren. A text message snafu had us baffled. Boy issues abound, but I think they are taken care of, which is good because I really like her with him, and I like him too.
D and I spontaneously went to see Low with Loney, Dear at the Somerville Theater after running into them on the street. I would go to shows all the time if I could always sit down and eat popcorn.
The pace from now on is going to be intense. Once I give my notice at work things will pile up. I'll be out every night, and will pack late-night. I have to figure out what to do with Father, because I don't really have the time nor the energy to confront this right now. I don't have the resources. I want to preserve the good mood and harness the positivity so I can enjoy every minute of my last month here. I wish he would understand it if I told him that, but he is incapable of operating on that level. I guess I have to be selfish (much like my refusal to attend Easter), or selfish to the extent that I can't really be involved with his issues right now.
I have to get my hair cut and glasses fixed and pick up the dry cleaning that the dog from the apartment with the huge TV slobbered all over. I have to clean my apartment before people come over this weekend. I think the doctor's appointments are pretty much done as of this morning. PW tonight, T and T tomorrow night, NR on Thursday and then Boston again on Friday and Saturday am. Brother and Sister and other people coming over before karaoke on Saturday night. Then recovery (probably laundry of some sort and Craigslist posting) before it all begins again on Monday - that week will be dinner with the Photography Girls, dinner with LL, hopefully one last movie and brunch with E, furniture shopping, oh my!
But it doesn't matter, because I will have time off between the mayhem and school. I am psyching myself up to get my driver's license. I hope to get a part time job at the movie theater that I can keep during school so I can get free movie tickets and therefore have no expenses other than food and apartment-related upkeep. Living in the burbs will prevent any sort of social life from happening, so no money will be spent.
I have to find a recipe now for some sort of light-ish sauce to put over gorgonzola ravioli. I am secretly hoping that the Amish Market has something perfect in jar form, although I am reluctant to buy anything for fear of having to move it. Then again, buying herbs etc. that I won't be able to use because I probably won't be home for dinner ever again is probably a bad idea as well.
I don't know. I'll figure it out.
Until whenever...
An apartment has been secured. The lease will be signed this coming weekend, after which we will drive back to NYC at the speed of light in order to attend the karaoke party that I'd previously planned for that night.
I have to give notice to The Boss. I psyched myself up all weekend, worried all night, rehearsed the speech wherein I say things like "It's not you, it's me" and feel like I'm breaking up with someone even though I'm not. I planned my entire day around it, and is he here? No! Another anxious night.
PW is coming over for gorgonzola ravioli with TBD sauce tonight. So begins the month-long marathon of socializing with those who will be missed. I am going to miss The Girls at work, R, and three friends to the point of being crippled with sadness. I will miss other people and things, but I don't think I'll be sad. I never really planted roots here.
D and I are both thrilled about our apartment. We brought D's little camera but forgot to take pictures because we were far too busy bouncing around and mouthing "This is apartment is AWE-some" behind the realtor's back. We have plenty of photos of the 9 apartments we didn't want.
Apartment hunting in MA isn't nearly as painful as it is here. We actually liked the realtor. There isn't even a fee!
We have to start selling things on Craigslist. We have to dump three dressers, a TV and fireplace utensils before we leave. We'll buy a new dresser, new TV, and bigger bed (!) when we get to MA. The guests will be able to sleep on the old bed, which will be in the spare bedroom, because there is going to be a spare bedroom. The realtors were confused when we criticized certain apartments as being "too big," but coming from NYC one is without extra anything.
The weekend was nice. I was enthusiastic after having finally sold the piano. I located the light meter I need for school on Craigslist. I received a phone call from the delinquent piano movers from the last move apologizing a year later and offering me a discount on my next move for not telling the person who bought the piano that their services suck. I got my federal return. I got an award at work. Things between D and I have been spectacular. Things on the list are being crossed out one after another.
It was nice but intense to see Mother. I asked her not to get between Father and I, and told her that I'll handle things whenever and however I see fit. I told her I didn't think it was her place to be intervening, or really to be talking to him at all. She agreed, of course, and we commisserated about critical families and she supported my stance on not attending Easter.
I got to see Sister, too. We devoured food at Diva. Is there anything better than lentil soup? No, there is not. We got drinks at The Burren. A text message snafu had us baffled. Boy issues abound, but I think they are taken care of, which is good because I really like her with him, and I like him too.
D and I spontaneously went to see Low with Loney, Dear at the Somerville Theater after running into them on the street. I would go to shows all the time if I could always sit down and eat popcorn.
The pace from now on is going to be intense. Once I give my notice at work things will pile up. I'll be out every night, and will pack late-night. I have to figure out what to do with Father, because I don't really have the time nor the energy to confront this right now. I don't have the resources. I want to preserve the good mood and harness the positivity so I can enjoy every minute of my last month here. I wish he would understand it if I told him that, but he is incapable of operating on that level. I guess I have to be selfish (much like my refusal to attend Easter), or selfish to the extent that I can't really be involved with his issues right now.
I have to get my hair cut and glasses fixed and pick up the dry cleaning that the dog from the apartment with the huge TV slobbered all over. I have to clean my apartment before people come over this weekend. I think the doctor's appointments are pretty much done as of this morning. PW tonight, T and T tomorrow night, NR on Thursday and then Boston again on Friday and Saturday am. Brother and Sister and other people coming over before karaoke on Saturday night. Then recovery (probably laundry of some sort and Craigslist posting) before it all begins again on Monday - that week will be dinner with the Photography Girls, dinner with LL, hopefully one last movie and brunch with E, furniture shopping, oh my!
But it doesn't matter, because I will have time off between the mayhem and school. I am psyching myself up to get my driver's license. I hope to get a part time job at the movie theater that I can keep during school so I can get free movie tickets and therefore have no expenses other than food and apartment-related upkeep. Living in the burbs will prevent any sort of social life from happening, so no money will be spent.
I have to find a recipe now for some sort of light-ish sauce to put over gorgonzola ravioli. I am secretly hoping that the Amish Market has something perfect in jar form, although I am reluctant to buy anything for fear of having to move it. Then again, buying herbs etc. that I won't be able to use because I probably won't be home for dinner ever again is probably a bad idea as well.
I don't know. I'll figure it out.
Until whenever...
Thursday, April 05, 2007
It Snowed This Morning
I just listened to a message that said "This is Josephine calling in regahds to the apahtment..."
It has officially hit me that I am moving back to MA.
Wicked awesome.
It has officially hit me that I am moving back to MA.
Wicked awesome.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Productive Sick Day
I am home sick again today. I am feeling even better, but not 100% better, and I am apparently paranoid about being stuck on the street with nowhere to go and with nobody to help.
I realized this morning that one of the worst things about living in a big, loud, insane city is commuting to work when not feeling optimal. There's nothing more unpalatable to me right now (aside from food) than leaving my apartment and navigating the obstacle course that is Hell's Kitchen in order to get to work. I can't stomach the idea of zillions of people, oppressive heat, rocky subway rides, a long walk, loud traffic, loud pedestrians, etc. while feeling nauseous. No. I just can't do it, and so will I stay home and probably be fine but I'd rather take a sick day than take a chance with this sick city.
Despite yesterday's discomfort and malaise, it ended up being a relatively awesome day.
The day's successes included:
1. D getting an interview
2. finally talking to M on the phone (and the bonus of cute baby noises)
3. a $100 deposit on the piano (bitter sweet, this is really happening)
4. another tidy Craigslist transaction - this time selling the camera that Father somehow broke in Egypt
5. the car's mirror being fixed! finally!
6. purchase of eyeglasses without having to actually purchase them - the guy was all "well, if you think you might return them then why don't I just give them to you? we don't want to have to pay for two transactions so we'll just write down your information and call you if you don't bring them back." (I am going to bring them back - maybe today if I can handle the chaos out there - I like them but I don't love them, and since there will be no drama when I bring them back - no credit card exchange, no paranoia about whether or not I've gotten credit back - I am more inclined to bring them back)
7. phone call from doctor that I've been missing for the last two weeks due to working too much and not being available for phone conversations - finally! scrip AND results being mailed to me! yeah!
The only annoying thing about the day was a procrastinated phone conversation with Father, who I've been avoiding since our minor at-work fight last week. He made the horrifying declaration that he's considering becoming a photographer, which of course has me doubting everything and to be honest I can't imagine anything more horrifying than having a career in common with Father. I decided NOT to be an engineer or anything related ON PURPOSE so as not to be anything like him. He is not allowed to be like me!
I said "Father, I don't think you'd be a good photographer..." and he said, robot-like, "Why?" I can't understand how a man can have no feelings and how I can say such things but times are desperate. "You don't have the personality for it. You have to be able to make people feel comfortable" (instead of pissing them off and annoying them and making them feel small and inconsequential and stupid, but I didn't say that part). "I'm changing." "Well, I'll believe it when I see it. You can't have your way when someone's paying you to do the job for them." "I'm changing. I did some photography the other night for a band and I actually asked them what they wanted me to do for them." "Did you do what they asked?" "Well, I did half of what they asked for and half of what I wanted." I guess that's progress, but seriously. We can't do the same thing with our lives. We CAN'T. It can't be. It just CANNOT. I can't have him hovering over me with advice and nonsense about anything else.
For example, he was giving me a hard time yesterday about transacting stock. Why? No reason. Just because he can, and that's how he operates, and I was like "Father, it's MONEY. There's nothing BAD ABOUT MONEY." Grief for the sake of grief, and grief for the sake of being right, even though he's wrong and knows nothing about what he's talking about.
Rage, folks. Luckily the day's successes counterbalanced the rage.
If he becomes a photographer I may have to completely write him off. Who knew it would be a career change that would put me over the edge?
I suppose its because he has been giving me a wicked hard time about switching careers and being irresponsible, but when HE wants to do it he's doing it the right way and it's not a big deal and he's excited.
He keeps saying "So, what's going on with school? You still going ahead with that?" and when I say "Um, yes, like I told you last time, I've already paid the first round of tuition and I'm starting on June 4th" there's a disappointed "Oh" as if he's waiting for me to say "Actually, I've reconsidered everything and I'm going to stay in my lame career but still move to Boston because that's what YOU want so I can be closer to you but miserabe."
Rage.
Onto more positive things, because I am trying to be positive! Today I am going to eat three full but bland meals at normal times. I am going to take a short walk and get The Voice and the mail and return the glasses. I am going to defeat this stomach thing once and for all! I am going to completely recover so that I can go to work tomorrow and be met with piles of packages and delayed experiments and oh man the stress but do I care? No! Because D has an interview and he will get the job and I will be able to give a two week notice soon and then move to MA where there is wind and quiet and lie to Father and pretend that I still live in NYC and am still working at my lame job so that I won't have to deal with him.
Right. Positive. I'm being positive.
On a positive note, I am now going to attempt to eat some cereal. Lucky charms, here I come.
I realized this morning that one of the worst things about living in a big, loud, insane city is commuting to work when not feeling optimal. There's nothing more unpalatable to me right now (aside from food) than leaving my apartment and navigating the obstacle course that is Hell's Kitchen in order to get to work. I can't stomach the idea of zillions of people, oppressive heat, rocky subway rides, a long walk, loud traffic, loud pedestrians, etc. while feeling nauseous. No. I just can't do it, and so will I stay home and probably be fine but I'd rather take a sick day than take a chance with this sick city.
Despite yesterday's discomfort and malaise, it ended up being a relatively awesome day.
The day's successes included:
1. D getting an interview
2. finally talking to M on the phone (and the bonus of cute baby noises)
3. a $100 deposit on the piano (bitter sweet, this is really happening)
4. another tidy Craigslist transaction - this time selling the camera that Father somehow broke in Egypt
5. the car's mirror being fixed! finally!
6. purchase of eyeglasses without having to actually purchase them - the guy was all "well, if you think you might return them then why don't I just give them to you? we don't want to have to pay for two transactions so we'll just write down your information and call you if you don't bring them back." (I am going to bring them back - maybe today if I can handle the chaos out there - I like them but I don't love them, and since there will be no drama when I bring them back - no credit card exchange, no paranoia about whether or not I've gotten credit back - I am more inclined to bring them back)
7. phone call from doctor that I've been missing for the last two weeks due to working too much and not being available for phone conversations - finally! scrip AND results being mailed to me! yeah!
The only annoying thing about the day was a procrastinated phone conversation with Father, who I've been avoiding since our minor at-work fight last week. He made the horrifying declaration that he's considering becoming a photographer, which of course has me doubting everything and to be honest I can't imagine anything more horrifying than having a career in common with Father. I decided NOT to be an engineer or anything related ON PURPOSE so as not to be anything like him. He is not allowed to be like me!
I said "Father, I don't think you'd be a good photographer..." and he said, robot-like, "Why?" I can't understand how a man can have no feelings and how I can say such things but times are desperate. "You don't have the personality for it. You have to be able to make people feel comfortable" (instead of pissing them off and annoying them and making them feel small and inconsequential and stupid, but I didn't say that part). "I'm changing." "Well, I'll believe it when I see it. You can't have your way when someone's paying you to do the job for them." "I'm changing. I did some photography the other night for a band and I actually asked them what they wanted me to do for them." "Did you do what they asked?" "Well, I did half of what they asked for and half of what I wanted." I guess that's progress, but seriously. We can't do the same thing with our lives. We CAN'T. It can't be. It just CANNOT. I can't have him hovering over me with advice and nonsense about anything else.
For example, he was giving me a hard time yesterday about transacting stock. Why? No reason. Just because he can, and that's how he operates, and I was like "Father, it's MONEY. There's nothing BAD ABOUT MONEY." Grief for the sake of grief, and grief for the sake of being right, even though he's wrong and knows nothing about what he's talking about.
Rage, folks. Luckily the day's successes counterbalanced the rage.
If he becomes a photographer I may have to completely write him off. Who knew it would be a career change that would put me over the edge?
I suppose its because he has been giving me a wicked hard time about switching careers and being irresponsible, but when HE wants to do it he's doing it the right way and it's not a big deal and he's excited.
He keeps saying "So, what's going on with school? You still going ahead with that?" and when I say "Um, yes, like I told you last time, I've already paid the first round of tuition and I'm starting on June 4th" there's a disappointed "Oh" as if he's waiting for me to say "Actually, I've reconsidered everything and I'm going to stay in my lame career but still move to Boston because that's what YOU want so I can be closer to you but miserabe."
Rage.
Onto more positive things, because I am trying to be positive! Today I am going to eat three full but bland meals at normal times. I am going to take a short walk and get The Voice and the mail and return the glasses. I am going to defeat this stomach thing once and for all! I am going to completely recover so that I can go to work tomorrow and be met with piles of packages and delayed experiments and oh man the stress but do I care? No! Because D has an interview and he will get the job and I will be able to give a two week notice soon and then move to MA where there is wind and quiet and lie to Father and pretend that I still live in NYC and am still working at my lame job so that I won't have to deal with him.
Right. Positive. I'm being positive.
On a positive note, I am now going to attempt to eat some cereal. Lucky charms, here I come.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
I Guess Still Have the Ability
When N and P were in NYC over the holidays, N spoke of her having had some sort of heinous food poisoning that resulted in her having to be taken to the hospital. She threw up. Lots. P, however, didn't, and said that doctors say that some adults just don't have the ability to vomit.
I have a pretty good record as an adult. I told them this, and we hypothesized that I perhaps no longer have the requirement of vomiting during stomach ailments. I haven't thrown up since age 7 due to anything non-self-inflicted (read: anything other than alcohol or sadness). I threw up minorly when I had the kidney infection (but it was only when I had something to drink or eat and wasn't terribly dramatic).
My over-20-year string of good luck ended yesterday when I contracted the stomach flu by which everyone at work has been stricken. I forced myself to eat lunch at 2:00 when I realized that it hadn't even occurred to me to eat. I wasn't at all hungry, and when I started eating I realized something was wrong, very wrong. I forced down a yogurt, two bites of an apple, and one bite of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Half an hour later things didn't seem right, so I left work and 15 minutes later was jumping out of a cab to toss the yogurt, apple and peanut butter sandwich bites all over 27th street's sidewalk.
Did anyone help? No! What would I have given for a stick of gum or sip of water? Ah, New Yorkers, a fabulous breed. I suppose most people would feel that leaving someone to themselves would be best - as it is terribly embarrassing and personal and, well, just terrible. But maybe when I was done... a simple "Are you ok, miss?" would have made things far more ok. The cab driver at least waited for me, and asked if I was ok, and drove me home like a maniac, which was nice and the only time I appreciated a cab driver's driving like a maniac.
I spent the remainder of the day being sick or being on my back experiencing fevers and chills and aches and pains and general misery. I think the happiest moment of my life to date was when D got home from work. Just seeing him made me feel better. He is a rock star and returned from the grocery store with broths and Pedialyte and popsicles and psychic English muffins (how did he know that I like English muffins when sick? bless him!).
I am home sick today but not feeling as sick. It must have been a one day flu, but I don't want to risk making another scene on the sidewalk. Plus, I've had only half a banana, half an English muffin and a popsicle since yesterday morning so I may not be at my most coherent. Plus, one of my work-pet-peeves is when people come to work while sick, thus contaminating everyone.
The weekend was good. It was good because it was chill. I spent Friday night selling the piano to a rock star who is friends with one of my favorite artists (tears, heartache, etc.) and then finishing the convert-tapes-to-DVDs project and laughed over and over again at how absurd we all were. I've become so much more mellow with the years. It was hard to watch the love and creativity in my eyes. I have to figure out a way to get those things back.
I finished my book waiting up for D, who left the house at 7:00 to "grab a drink" with his friend M and didn't return until 2 am and didn't return any of my calls. It's not that I want to know where he is (or suspect him of being somewhere that is not where he said he would be), I just want to know that he's ok and would like to know when he's coming back. It's hard to sleep when you don't know if/when you'll be awoken. He made no mention of the messages the following morning, and I started getting mad. How could he not say "Sorry I didn't return your calls?" or "Why do you have to call me, you psycho?" He would have had no reason to say the latter as I had never called him like that before, and since he had called me earlier in the week when I said I'd be home by 10 but didn't get home until 11:30. Of course I returned his call as soon as I got it, because I didn't want him to worry and also I thought it was cute that he was concerned.
He eventually brought it up, saying he just got the messages (at 11:30 am). Understandable, as he rarely has his phone on and when he does tends to ignore it. I was glad he brought it up, because I was at a loss for what to do. I couldn't believe he was ignoring the messages, and couldn't tell if I was mad that he didn't return them or that he was pretending that they didn't exist.
I brunched with R as I'd made plans with him when mad at D. We then looked at glasses, and I found a pair that I want to buy while I still have vision insurance and am awaiting D's availability for a final consult. I rushed home to sell my broken camera via Craigslist, but the dude was a no-show. Curses.
I made phone calls for hours, and then D and I left the apartment to begin our NR birthday evening. NR's birthday party wasn't starting until 12:30 am, so we decided that the only way we would last that long would be to pack the night full of different events to give to us the momentum we would need. We started with dinner, but encountered the pre-theater crowd so ended up at a cute sandwich place that is our new favorite place. We then went to see "Reign Over Me," which wasn't a great movie but was very enjoyable so I loved it anyway. Don Cheadle is the best actor ever, and I never thought Adam Sandler would make me cry like a baby. It was a great New York movie, too. We headed to Dave and Buster's in the theater building, as we've walked by it a zillion times but had never been due to its cheesiness and also never having time, but we had hours to kill! We turned right around when we learned that there was a $5 cover. We went to the Hello Kitty store (again) and then ended up at this weird new French-bistro-style restaurant in Port Authority that we've been obsessed with, because wtf? We drank rums and diets and D initiated a talk about "the relationship" for the first time ever (he was inspired by the movie) and presented his different definitions of intimacy. Weird! PW showed up just as the conversation was getting good (and D was starting to see my point that we clearly don't know each other that well if I don't know whether or not we're engaged) and then we headed to Koreatown for some awesome karaoke.
D and I had placed bets as to how long we'd last - my vote was two hours, D's was three. He said "We always stay longer than we think we will because of the karaoke time warp." We stayed, of course, for four hours and were home by about 4:30 am and asleep by 5:00. We are too old for this.
We slept until noon and wasted the day doing nothing. The big event was the smoothest Craigslist transaction ever - dude called to ask where I lived and he was coincidentally 1.5 blocks away from my apartment, showed up one minute later, didn't even examine the photo albums, handed me a $20 and disappeared.
D came to the Amish Market with me because the week before I'd said "I think it would be nice to do something as a couple - like maybe we could go grocery shopping together some time." He's adorable for remembering. We made crepes and watched "Watership Down," which was trippy but not nearly as trippy as I'd remembered.
It's funny - in my mind the whole movie was half an hour of the little rabbit having a total psychotic break (in reality approximately 3 seconds), half an hour of the rabbit that had been attacked explaining the destruction of the rabbit fort (why can't I remember what its called now? in reality approximately one minute) and an hour of the dog tearing the rabbits to shreds (in reality approximately 2 seconds and no shreds). When I see things like this I realize how visceral things can be for children, and how things stick with children for eternity. When we watched "The Black Cauldron" as adults we were terribly disappointed because it wasn't scary. Ah, imagination.
That was the weekend, and yesterday was napping and misery and love.
Hopefully tonight I will get my deposit on the piano and will sell the broken camera and watch "Blood Diamond" and maybe, just maybe, I will write a song. Yes! I will write a song, because I am confined and alone.
Awesome.
Until tomorrow...
I have a pretty good record as an adult. I told them this, and we hypothesized that I perhaps no longer have the requirement of vomiting during stomach ailments. I haven't thrown up since age 7 due to anything non-self-inflicted (read: anything other than alcohol or sadness). I threw up minorly when I had the kidney infection (but it was only when I had something to drink or eat and wasn't terribly dramatic).
My over-20-year string of good luck ended yesterday when I contracted the stomach flu by which everyone at work has been stricken. I forced myself to eat lunch at 2:00 when I realized that it hadn't even occurred to me to eat. I wasn't at all hungry, and when I started eating I realized something was wrong, very wrong. I forced down a yogurt, two bites of an apple, and one bite of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Half an hour later things didn't seem right, so I left work and 15 minutes later was jumping out of a cab to toss the yogurt, apple and peanut butter sandwich bites all over 27th street's sidewalk.
Did anyone help? No! What would I have given for a stick of gum or sip of water? Ah, New Yorkers, a fabulous breed. I suppose most people would feel that leaving someone to themselves would be best - as it is terribly embarrassing and personal and, well, just terrible. But maybe when I was done... a simple "Are you ok, miss?" would have made things far more ok. The cab driver at least waited for me, and asked if I was ok, and drove me home like a maniac, which was nice and the only time I appreciated a cab driver's driving like a maniac.
I spent the remainder of the day being sick or being on my back experiencing fevers and chills and aches and pains and general misery. I think the happiest moment of my life to date was when D got home from work. Just seeing him made me feel better. He is a rock star and returned from the grocery store with broths and Pedialyte and popsicles and psychic English muffins (how did he know that I like English muffins when sick? bless him!).
I am home sick today but not feeling as sick. It must have been a one day flu, but I don't want to risk making another scene on the sidewalk. Plus, I've had only half a banana, half an English muffin and a popsicle since yesterday morning so I may not be at my most coherent. Plus, one of my work-pet-peeves is when people come to work while sick, thus contaminating everyone.
The weekend was good. It was good because it was chill. I spent Friday night selling the piano to a rock star who is friends with one of my favorite artists (tears, heartache, etc.) and then finishing the convert-tapes-to-DVDs project and laughed over and over again at how absurd we all were. I've become so much more mellow with the years. It was hard to watch the love and creativity in my eyes. I have to figure out a way to get those things back.
I finished my book waiting up for D, who left the house at 7:00 to "grab a drink" with his friend M and didn't return until 2 am and didn't return any of my calls. It's not that I want to know where he is (or suspect him of being somewhere that is not where he said he would be), I just want to know that he's ok and would like to know when he's coming back. It's hard to sleep when you don't know if/when you'll be awoken. He made no mention of the messages the following morning, and I started getting mad. How could he not say "Sorry I didn't return your calls?" or "Why do you have to call me, you psycho?" He would have had no reason to say the latter as I had never called him like that before, and since he had called me earlier in the week when I said I'd be home by 10 but didn't get home until 11:30. Of course I returned his call as soon as I got it, because I didn't want him to worry and also I thought it was cute that he was concerned.
He eventually brought it up, saying he just got the messages (at 11:30 am). Understandable, as he rarely has his phone on and when he does tends to ignore it. I was glad he brought it up, because I was at a loss for what to do. I couldn't believe he was ignoring the messages, and couldn't tell if I was mad that he didn't return them or that he was pretending that they didn't exist.
I brunched with R as I'd made plans with him when mad at D. We then looked at glasses, and I found a pair that I want to buy while I still have vision insurance and am awaiting D's availability for a final consult. I rushed home to sell my broken camera via Craigslist, but the dude was a no-show. Curses.
I made phone calls for hours, and then D and I left the apartment to begin our NR birthday evening. NR's birthday party wasn't starting until 12:30 am, so we decided that the only way we would last that long would be to pack the night full of different events to give to us the momentum we would need. We started with dinner, but encountered the pre-theater crowd so ended up at a cute sandwich place that is our new favorite place. We then went to see "Reign Over Me," which wasn't a great movie but was very enjoyable so I loved it anyway. Don Cheadle is the best actor ever, and I never thought Adam Sandler would make me cry like a baby. It was a great New York movie, too. We headed to Dave and Buster's in the theater building, as we've walked by it a zillion times but had never been due to its cheesiness and also never having time, but we had hours to kill! We turned right around when we learned that there was a $5 cover. We went to the Hello Kitty store (again) and then ended up at this weird new French-bistro-style restaurant in Port Authority that we've been obsessed with, because wtf? We drank rums and diets and D initiated a talk about "the relationship" for the first time ever (he was inspired by the movie) and presented his different definitions of intimacy. Weird! PW showed up just as the conversation was getting good (and D was starting to see my point that we clearly don't know each other that well if I don't know whether or not we're engaged) and then we headed to Koreatown for some awesome karaoke.
D and I had placed bets as to how long we'd last - my vote was two hours, D's was three. He said "We always stay longer than we think we will because of the karaoke time warp." We stayed, of course, for four hours and were home by about 4:30 am and asleep by 5:00. We are too old for this.
We slept until noon and wasted the day doing nothing. The big event was the smoothest Craigslist transaction ever - dude called to ask where I lived and he was coincidentally 1.5 blocks away from my apartment, showed up one minute later, didn't even examine the photo albums, handed me a $20 and disappeared.
D came to the Amish Market with me because the week before I'd said "I think it would be nice to do something as a couple - like maybe we could go grocery shopping together some time." He's adorable for remembering. We made crepes and watched "Watership Down," which was trippy but not nearly as trippy as I'd remembered.
It's funny - in my mind the whole movie was half an hour of the little rabbit having a total psychotic break (in reality approximately 3 seconds), half an hour of the rabbit that had been attacked explaining the destruction of the rabbit fort (why can't I remember what its called now? in reality approximately one minute) and an hour of the dog tearing the rabbits to shreds (in reality approximately 2 seconds and no shreds). When I see things like this I realize how visceral things can be for children, and how things stick with children for eternity. When we watched "The Black Cauldron" as adults we were terribly disappointed because it wasn't scary. Ah, imagination.
That was the weekend, and yesterday was napping and misery and love.
Hopefully tonight I will get my deposit on the piano and will sell the broken camera and watch "Blood Diamond" and maybe, just maybe, I will write a song. Yes! I will write a song, because I am confined and alone.
Awesome.
Until tomorrow...
Friday, March 23, 2007
Leaving Early
Hey kids.
I've been busy with the following:
* Shopping too much. It is my yearly binge and thus far I have purchased five shirts, two pairs of shoes, and one amazingly unnecessary but joy-inducing Hello Kitty tote bag.
*Feeling guilty at work after having received a fairly prestigious work award and becoming The Boss' vehicle for venting about his wedding and having to nod when hearing "And when you come down to the house this summer for the cookout, you'll see my garden!" and not break down and say "But I won't be here in the summer and I swear it's not you it's me!"
* Working too much due to previously mentioned guilt.
* Socializing with Girls - I'm not sure if time is really running out but I have to socialize non-stop just in case it is.
* Consuming tons of theater - within one week's time I saw Rent, the Edward Scissorhands ballet, The Pirates of Penzance, and Curtains.
* Spending tons and tons of money (see above: shopping, theater, meals before theater, movies after theater, etc).
* Fantasizing about and semi-planning a May trip to either Japan or Greece, neither of which will happen due to poor timing and my boyfriend suddenly having a fit of responsible adult behavior.
* Consoling my boyfriend through his first ever experience of rejection.
* Trying to sell the piano.
* Trying to catch up on sleep.
* Enjoying Daylight Savings and the resulting energy! Yes! It's bright out when I leave work! Even when I leave late! I am accomplishing things and am not exhausted! Thank you W, for this and this only.
* Spring cleaning and oh the progress! I moved things from boxes to other boxes, generated space, filled trash bags with clothes and shoes that should no longer belong to me, piled books for the library, consolidated and organized CDs, transferred prints to a fabulous new storage system... bliss!
* Spring projecting and oh the progress! I began the copy-all-digital-videos onto DVD project last weekend, which was an experience of simultaneous torture and ecstasy. It is easy to both demonize and glorify the past, and when confronted with it in video form it is easy to realize that it was neither completely heinous nor completely wonderful. It was better in so many ways - watching the "documentary" that I was trying to do about the "48 Hour Film Project" made me miss things that I don't have anymore. I miss creativity. I miss collaboration. I miss people who actually follow through. I miss karaoke. I miss Halloween. I miss little cousins. I miss the era when I thought everyone and everything was nice. I miss not being jaded. I miss ambition - I found all the footage from the family documentary that never got made, and realized that it was a really good idea and that I was insecure at the time and I should have just done it. I don't miss being insecure and not confident in my ideas.
* Fantasizing about the musical that I will never write.
* Catching up on the sleep lost during the 80 degree apartment era, which actually continued into this week but was more manageable with open windows and fan.
Nothing terribly exciting. This weekend will be more Projects and hopefully the selling of the piano and hopefully a ton of sleep and more importantly a ton of karaoke for NR's Big 3-0 Birthday Extravaganza. I will watch Blood Diamond at home and maybe something at the theater. I swear I am going to finish my book and add it to the library pile. I may even start another! I will finish at least one of the magazines that is piled under my bed. I will relax. I will not spend insane amounts of money for anything not related to NR's birth.
And with that, I'm off for the weekend. I'm leaving early and I am without guilt.
Have nice weekends.
Until Monday...
I've been busy with the following:
* Shopping too much. It is my yearly binge and thus far I have purchased five shirts, two pairs of shoes, and one amazingly unnecessary but joy-inducing Hello Kitty tote bag.
*Feeling guilty at work after having received a fairly prestigious work award and becoming The Boss' vehicle for venting about his wedding and having to nod when hearing "And when you come down to the house this summer for the cookout, you'll see my garden!" and not break down and say "But I won't be here in the summer and I swear it's not you it's me!"
* Working too much due to previously mentioned guilt.
* Socializing with Girls - I'm not sure if time is really running out but I have to socialize non-stop just in case it is.
* Consuming tons of theater - within one week's time I saw Rent, the Edward Scissorhands ballet, The Pirates of Penzance, and Curtains.
* Spending tons and tons of money (see above: shopping, theater, meals before theater, movies after theater, etc).
* Fantasizing about and semi-planning a May trip to either Japan or Greece, neither of which will happen due to poor timing and my boyfriend suddenly having a fit of responsible adult behavior.
* Consoling my boyfriend through his first ever experience of rejection.
* Trying to sell the piano.
* Trying to catch up on sleep.
* Enjoying Daylight Savings and the resulting energy! Yes! It's bright out when I leave work! Even when I leave late! I am accomplishing things and am not exhausted! Thank you W, for this and this only.
* Spring cleaning and oh the progress! I moved things from boxes to other boxes, generated space, filled trash bags with clothes and shoes that should no longer belong to me, piled books for the library, consolidated and organized CDs, transferred prints to a fabulous new storage system... bliss!
* Spring projecting and oh the progress! I began the copy-all-digital-videos onto DVD project last weekend, which was an experience of simultaneous torture and ecstasy. It is easy to both demonize and glorify the past, and when confronted with it in video form it is easy to realize that it was neither completely heinous nor completely wonderful. It was better in so many ways - watching the "documentary" that I was trying to do about the "48 Hour Film Project" made me miss things that I don't have anymore. I miss creativity. I miss collaboration. I miss people who actually follow through. I miss karaoke. I miss Halloween. I miss little cousins. I miss the era when I thought everyone and everything was nice. I miss not being jaded. I miss ambition - I found all the footage from the family documentary that never got made, and realized that it was a really good idea and that I was insecure at the time and I should have just done it. I don't miss being insecure and not confident in my ideas.
* Fantasizing about the musical that I will never write.
* Catching up on the sleep lost during the 80 degree apartment era, which actually continued into this week but was more manageable with open windows and fan.
Nothing terribly exciting. This weekend will be more Projects and hopefully the selling of the piano and hopefully a ton of sleep and more importantly a ton of karaoke for NR's Big 3-0 Birthday Extravaganza. I will watch Blood Diamond at home and maybe something at the theater. I swear I am going to finish my book and add it to the library pile. I may even start another! I will finish at least one of the magazines that is piled under my bed. I will relax. I will not spend insane amounts of money for anything not related to NR's birth.
And with that, I'm off for the weekend. I'm leaving early and I am without guilt.
Have nice weekends.
Until Monday...
Friday, March 16, 2007
Ah, To Drive
D's birtday (I'm sure you recall the fondue pot fiasco of 2006) is swiftly approaching, and I'd devised a fabulous weekend trip for us to Foxwoods/Mohegan Sun where we would view the Professional Bowling Association finals and have some fun at the casino. Bowling! Buffets! Free drinks! Bingo! A king size bed! Yeah! My heart was set on this as I thought it was the greatest idea of all time, as he has been talking about nothing but the PBA championship for the last year and a half, devastated that we missed last year's tour due to Mohegan Sun's not having any rooms available the weekend of the championship.
Luckily I didn't buy the tickets. I ran it by him today (Mohegan Sun is sold out yet again but Foxwoods has plenty of room, and this year we are with car so it wouldn't be a drama to stay at one and then watch bowling at the other) and he completely shot down the idea. He said "With so few weekends remaining here - in theory - I'd rather just stick around here."
Understandable, as I'd been saying the same thing when we went to FL, although when we went to FL, we thought D would have a job and we'd be leaving NYC in three weeks. We've now renewed our lease so we're here at least until 5/6.
I could cry. I had my heart set on it, and I realize that I have no reason to be sad about it since it is his birthday, but I am sad because we have been wanting to do this for so long. We've been talking about it for over a year.
Of course I am all passive aggressive, too, since I went to FL recently, spent my own money when I wanted to stay here in order to "maximize weekends here."
But that was for him, and his birthday should be for him, not for me.
I am also passive aggressive because D always takes me to do secret things on my birthday without involving me at all, and in all honesty they haven't been things I would have picked out myself. If he'd said "Do you want to do this?" I'd have said "No."
I should have just booked it.
But then he wouldn't have been able to conceal his horror at doing something he's been wanting to do for the last year and a half and all of a sudden having no good reason not to do it.
Of course I am also in a panic because I have no idea what to do or to give, and, dear readers, our relationship as of late has been lackluster. We're in our first rut, and I was secretly hoping out mutual love for bowling would rekindle the romance. We're both stressed about the future and D's poor job prospects to date. It is normal for relationships to suffer ever so slightly under such conditions.
I'm uninspired. I don't want to get him anything because whatever I do will be lame. He doesn't want things. I know he wants some DVDs, but that's lame. I won't do it. I could get him clothes but, again, lame. Our relationship isn't about objects. That's not how we function. We are united in wanting to give experience and memory and not objects.
I'm not that into the relationship right now so on a selfish note I don't want to spend what precious little time I have remaining here looking for a blue buttoned shirt. But I guess I have to. It's part of the job.
I, like Britney, am realizing that I confront stress in my life by wanting to cut off all my hair. I've thought of nothing else for the past few days. I've lost sleep fantasizing about potential short hair cuts, wondering if I'll look like a boy, wondering if D will have a meltdown when he sees it and never want to look at me again. I ran that by him too, and he was noncommittal. I demonstrated a haircut that I thought would look cute, his response to which was "It's very Nancy Wilson." What's that supposed to mean? I look fat? Or inferior to my pretty blonde sister?
Lately we talk at each other. Experiencing stress at the same time doesn't become us.
I understand that he wants to spend time here. Of course we both do - we want to spend time with our friends and get NYC out of our systems before we leave. Unfortunately we are getting each other out of our systems while we focus on other things. In all honesty I may claim "Stress!" to exempt myself from his birthday. He can do whatever he wants to do and I'll be there.
I guess I wish he would have been like "Good idea, honey, I wish we could go," but no. Completely shot down, not discussed. Rejected. I can't believe I still have the capacity to feel rejected by him.
I'm not looking forward to the weekend. It's going to be cold (which means no galleries and aimless, directionless wandering) and rainy/snowy. I made no plans because I wanted to spend time alone in the apartment, pre-packing (which means throwing away all of my belongings) as I haven't been in the apartment for anything other than soaking and sleeping since last Thursday. Now we'll both be there, and I will want to scream. I'm actually contemplating going to Foxwoods by myself so I can get away and be alone. Alone amongst a zillion people, but still alone.
I lost a lot of sleep this week fantasizing about short hair but also about staying in a hotel. I've moved into the living room because its at least 8 degrees cooler in there, and there is no snoring. I've been fantasizing about perfect temperature regulation and being 40 stories up where nobody can break in through the window and where I can't hear every word said on the street.
Blah. I hate this weather. I blame the weather and my hair being too long.
Have good weekends, kids. Until Monday...
Luckily I didn't buy the tickets. I ran it by him today (Mohegan Sun is sold out yet again but Foxwoods has plenty of room, and this year we are with car so it wouldn't be a drama to stay at one and then watch bowling at the other) and he completely shot down the idea. He said "With so few weekends remaining here - in theory - I'd rather just stick around here."
Understandable, as I'd been saying the same thing when we went to FL, although when we went to FL, we thought D would have a job and we'd be leaving NYC in three weeks. We've now renewed our lease so we're here at least until 5/6.
I could cry. I had my heart set on it, and I realize that I have no reason to be sad about it since it is his birthday, but I am sad because we have been wanting to do this for so long. We've been talking about it for over a year.
Of course I am all passive aggressive, too, since I went to FL recently, spent my own money when I wanted to stay here in order to "maximize weekends here."
But that was for him, and his birthday should be for him, not for me.
I am also passive aggressive because D always takes me to do secret things on my birthday without involving me at all, and in all honesty they haven't been things I would have picked out myself. If he'd said "Do you want to do this?" I'd have said "No."
I should have just booked it.
But then he wouldn't have been able to conceal his horror at doing something he's been wanting to do for the last year and a half and all of a sudden having no good reason not to do it.
Of course I am also in a panic because I have no idea what to do or to give, and, dear readers, our relationship as of late has been lackluster. We're in our first rut, and I was secretly hoping out mutual love for bowling would rekindle the romance. We're both stressed about the future and D's poor job prospects to date. It is normal for relationships to suffer ever so slightly under such conditions.
I'm uninspired. I don't want to get him anything because whatever I do will be lame. He doesn't want things. I know he wants some DVDs, but that's lame. I won't do it. I could get him clothes but, again, lame. Our relationship isn't about objects. That's not how we function. We are united in wanting to give experience and memory and not objects.
I'm not that into the relationship right now so on a selfish note I don't want to spend what precious little time I have remaining here looking for a blue buttoned shirt. But I guess I have to. It's part of the job.
I, like Britney, am realizing that I confront stress in my life by wanting to cut off all my hair. I've thought of nothing else for the past few days. I've lost sleep fantasizing about potential short hair cuts, wondering if I'll look like a boy, wondering if D will have a meltdown when he sees it and never want to look at me again. I ran that by him too, and he was noncommittal. I demonstrated a haircut that I thought would look cute, his response to which was "It's very Nancy Wilson." What's that supposed to mean? I look fat? Or inferior to my pretty blonde sister?
Lately we talk at each other. Experiencing stress at the same time doesn't become us.
I understand that he wants to spend time here. Of course we both do - we want to spend time with our friends and get NYC out of our systems before we leave. Unfortunately we are getting each other out of our systems while we focus on other things. In all honesty I may claim "Stress!" to exempt myself from his birthday. He can do whatever he wants to do and I'll be there.
I guess I wish he would have been like "Good idea, honey, I wish we could go," but no. Completely shot down, not discussed. Rejected. I can't believe I still have the capacity to feel rejected by him.
I'm not looking forward to the weekend. It's going to be cold (which means no galleries and aimless, directionless wandering) and rainy/snowy. I made no plans because I wanted to spend time alone in the apartment, pre-packing (which means throwing away all of my belongings) as I haven't been in the apartment for anything other than soaking and sleeping since last Thursday. Now we'll both be there, and I will want to scream. I'm actually contemplating going to Foxwoods by myself so I can get away and be alone. Alone amongst a zillion people, but still alone.
I lost a lot of sleep this week fantasizing about short hair but also about staying in a hotel. I've moved into the living room because its at least 8 degrees cooler in there, and there is no snoring. I've been fantasizing about perfect temperature regulation and being 40 stories up where nobody can break in through the window and where I can't hear every word said on the street.
Blah. I hate this weather. I blame the weather and my hair being too long.
Have good weekends, kids. Until Monday...
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Pet Peeves
I am a person with pet peeves. Some are more reasonable than others.
Prix fixe menus are one of my major pet peeves, a peeve more unreasonable than others. I realize this, and realize that I am difficult to dine with for some because of my anti-pre-fee sentiments. I just don't see the point of someone giving me a smaller choice of what to eat and dictating how much I will pay for it. If I can CHOOSE what I would like to eat, and those things amount to $30, sweet! I'll pay $30 for food. But restricting me and then charging me $30? No.
I went out for dinner last night and spent $35 on tapas. This included a heaping plate of fruit and accompanying heaping plate of cheese, avocado spring rolls, garlic crostini with three dipping sauces, empanada, pumpkin popovers, hazlenut wantons, a shared bottle of wine and a shared glass of blueberry port. Small portions, self-chosen, constant eating.
I'm a small person with a small appetite. Prix fixe is lost on me. I don't need four courses.
I'm also a vegetarian, which makes prix fixe even more annoying.
And I'm a picky vegetarian.
Look. I just want to choose my food, dammit.
The Ls are going to dinner tonight and L suggested a prix fixe Indian vegetarian restaurant that looks very good, but is $25 before drinks. It's more buffet-style and honestly, I can't eat that much Indian food. I adore Indian food, but its heavy, and I'm not one to consume endless amounts of food anyway.
Plus, if the point of the evening was "Let's go out and spend a lot of money on dinner at a fancy restaurant because we all like to do that!" I'd be cool with that, but the point is "Let's all get together because we haven't seen each other in ages" and I can spend $10 on decent food and be quite heavy.
I am saving money, people!!! I'm trying!
I also just don't feel like going at all, which is terrible of me as I haven't seen them and probably won't again before I move.
Daylight savings messes me up.
The plan was to get up at 6:30 this morning to soak the foot and get in on time for lab meeting at 9:00.
Unfortunately this plan was thwarted by my falling asleep at around 3:30 am because
(a) foot throbbing (wtf? it's been fine)
(b) apartment being 80 degrees (literally)
(c) stress
(d) stupid Daylight Savings Time making it impossible to go to bed at midnight and
(e) counting how many hours sleep I'd get "if I fall asleep right now" and being horrified and
(f) possible agitation caused by pain killer taken to ease toe throbbing
I was up at 6:45, and am soaking now, and am REALLY IRKED because my schedule of morning things to do includes drying hair and making lunch, two things that won't occur today because I dropped my hair dryer in the toilet (thankfully not while using it) and I don't have a single piece of food in the apartment, which is causing me a lot of stress because I despise being without fruit. It induces a sort of lunacy - knowing I have to eat Subway for lunch makes me mad.
I also despise being without a hairdryer, because I will arrive at work looking like a raving lunatic with frizzy, insane hair.
Do you think its ok to use a hairdryer that's been dropped in the toilet? It will dry eventually, but how will I know when its completely dry? We grew up with a lot of "wetness and hairdryers don't mix" propaganda.
I think I am just going to buy a new one, but when? Where? I saw a fabulous pink one at Target, but is there a Target in the city? No!
I need to buy more epsom salts and trash bags tonight, so maybe they'll have the pink one at CVS.
I also need groceries.
I am hoping that the Ls will be down with meeting me near my apartment so that I can pick up a hair dryer and groceries after work.
They probably won't, because one of the Ls is stubborn and insists on driving everywhere and we are therefore restricted to restaurants with parking within a 5 block radius.
Grandmother Moment: Why live in NYC if you are going to drive everywhere? What's the point? Why live in NYC if you refuse to walk 10 blocks?
I'm tired. I'm going to remain tired all day. I'm going to be tired and frustrated and without fruit or hair dryer tonight and I am going to have a meltdown because I will have to walk 30 blocks to meet them and will be gone for over 13 hours and will have accomplished nothing. The apartment is a mess because my time here is spent confined to the stupid salt bath. My taxes are not done because I forgot to bring the W2s to work. Skepticism about the interview is winning. Nobody wants to buy the piano. I need sleep in a desperate way. Tomorrow is a potentially bad day for Father. I worked 10 hours yesterday and in my mind I can't comprehend working at all.
What I want to do tonight:
Leave work early
Go to CVS and leave with pink hair dryer, epsom salts and trash bags
Go to Amish Market and buy raspberries, bananas, apples, lettuce, cucumber, hummus, yogurt
Do puzzle
Call friends
Clean bathroom
Watch "Jesus Camp"
Go to bed super early
What I will do tonight:
Leave work late
Spend $40 on dinner
Not go to CVS
Not go to Amish Market
Call Father
Soak foot
Go to bed super late
Ugh.
I hate this week.
Until tomorrow...
Prix fixe menus are one of my major pet peeves, a peeve more unreasonable than others. I realize this, and realize that I am difficult to dine with for some because of my anti-pre-fee sentiments. I just don't see the point of someone giving me a smaller choice of what to eat and dictating how much I will pay for it. If I can CHOOSE what I would like to eat, and those things amount to $30, sweet! I'll pay $30 for food. But restricting me and then charging me $30? No.
I went out for dinner last night and spent $35 on tapas. This included a heaping plate of fruit and accompanying heaping plate of cheese, avocado spring rolls, garlic crostini with three dipping sauces, empanada, pumpkin popovers, hazlenut wantons, a shared bottle of wine and a shared glass of blueberry port. Small portions, self-chosen, constant eating.
I'm a small person with a small appetite. Prix fixe is lost on me. I don't need four courses.
I'm also a vegetarian, which makes prix fixe even more annoying.
And I'm a picky vegetarian.
Look. I just want to choose my food, dammit.
The Ls are going to dinner tonight and L suggested a prix fixe Indian vegetarian restaurant that looks very good, but is $25 before drinks. It's more buffet-style and honestly, I can't eat that much Indian food. I adore Indian food, but its heavy, and I'm not one to consume endless amounts of food anyway.
Plus, if the point of the evening was "Let's go out and spend a lot of money on dinner at a fancy restaurant because we all like to do that!" I'd be cool with that, but the point is "Let's all get together because we haven't seen each other in ages" and I can spend $10 on decent food and be quite heavy.
I am saving money, people!!! I'm trying!
I also just don't feel like going at all, which is terrible of me as I haven't seen them and probably won't again before I move.
Daylight savings messes me up.
The plan was to get up at 6:30 this morning to soak the foot and get in on time for lab meeting at 9:00.
Unfortunately this plan was thwarted by my falling asleep at around 3:30 am because
(a) foot throbbing (wtf? it's been fine)
(b) apartment being 80 degrees (literally)
(c) stress
(d) stupid Daylight Savings Time making it impossible to go to bed at midnight and
(e) counting how many hours sleep I'd get "if I fall asleep right now" and being horrified and
(f) possible agitation caused by pain killer taken to ease toe throbbing
I was up at 6:45, and am soaking now, and am REALLY IRKED because my schedule of morning things to do includes drying hair and making lunch, two things that won't occur today because I dropped my hair dryer in the toilet (thankfully not while using it) and I don't have a single piece of food in the apartment, which is causing me a lot of stress because I despise being without fruit. It induces a sort of lunacy - knowing I have to eat Subway for lunch makes me mad.
I also despise being without a hairdryer, because I will arrive at work looking like a raving lunatic with frizzy, insane hair.
Do you think its ok to use a hairdryer that's been dropped in the toilet? It will dry eventually, but how will I know when its completely dry? We grew up with a lot of "wetness and hairdryers don't mix" propaganda.
I think I am just going to buy a new one, but when? Where? I saw a fabulous pink one at Target, but is there a Target in the city? No!
I need to buy more epsom salts and trash bags tonight, so maybe they'll have the pink one at CVS.
I also need groceries.
I am hoping that the Ls will be down with meeting me near my apartment so that I can pick up a hair dryer and groceries after work.
They probably won't, because one of the Ls is stubborn and insists on driving everywhere and we are therefore restricted to restaurants with parking within a 5 block radius.
Grandmother Moment: Why live in NYC if you are going to drive everywhere? What's the point? Why live in NYC if you refuse to walk 10 blocks?
I'm tired. I'm going to remain tired all day. I'm going to be tired and frustrated and without fruit or hair dryer tonight and I am going to have a meltdown because I will have to walk 30 blocks to meet them and will be gone for over 13 hours and will have accomplished nothing. The apartment is a mess because my time here is spent confined to the stupid salt bath. My taxes are not done because I forgot to bring the W2s to work. Skepticism about the interview is winning. Nobody wants to buy the piano. I need sleep in a desperate way. Tomorrow is a potentially bad day for Father. I worked 10 hours yesterday and in my mind I can't comprehend working at all.
What I want to do tonight:
Leave work early
Go to CVS and leave with pink hair dryer, epsom salts and trash bags
Go to Amish Market and buy raspberries, bananas, apples, lettuce, cucumber, hummus, yogurt
Do puzzle
Call friends
Clean bathroom
Watch "Jesus Camp"
Go to bed super early
What I will do tonight:
Leave work late
Spend $40 on dinner
Not go to CVS
Not go to Amish Market
Call Father
Soak foot
Go to bed super late
Ugh.
I hate this week.
Until tomorrow...
Monday, March 12, 2007
Salts
Soaking the foot again. This is driving me mad. Getting up 45 minutes earlier than I'd like to each day, going to bed 45 minutes later. I hate the ritual of epsom salts and iodine in water in a pasta cooker lined with trash bag. I am still without basin. Where can you find a cheap basin other than one stolen from a hospital? I used to have one (stolen from a hospital) that I apparently tossed in anticipation of a minimalist lifestyle with D. I despise creating the bandage a few times a day out of different guazes and tapes and gels and iodine, but I don't mind sealing it with a Hello Kitty band-aid.
I'm tired. My schedule is off with Daylight Savings and bandage making.
I'm stressed. D told me yesterday that we were supposed to tell the landlord at the beginning of March whether we inteded to extend our lease for an extra month. If D gets an offer this week we'll be fine, but if not then we will have some difficult decisions to make based on a strong "hopefully."
I'm feeling socially smothered. When you're about to move, you feel compelled to squeeze everything into your last days. The museums you meant to see, friends you haven't seen in far too long, friends you are going to miss terribly, shows you've been dying to catch. I am going for tapas tonight with A, S, A and D, dinner tomorrow night with L and The Other L, to the ballet on Wednesday, having PW over on Thursday for dinner and music video watching. I may have to spend next weekend looking for an apartment, but really I want to catch up on sleep and spend time with friends. And pack. I am amidst an "I have too much stuff and I want to throw all of my possessions away" minimalist meltdown but it doesn't make sense to do that and then pack. They are better as a combined activity.
I have to sell my piano. It's giving me an ulcer. What will end up happening is that I will scramble at the last minute to pay someone to move the stupid thing onto the sidewalk to be thrown away. I am trying to sell it - it's on Craigslist and will be on flyers soon, but I may just donate it. But will the foundation for the blind even want my crappy piano?
D's talking about buying a condo. Oh my.
The antibiotics are making me feel lousy.
I have to go for foot follow ups this week. There is not time.
The weekend was good. I spent Friday being entirely unproductive aside from going to the post office to pick up a gift from the most fabulous apartment-guest ever. The evening was spent eating cheap Italian food with PW followed by a viewing of "The Host," which was amazing. Run out and see it as soon as you can. On Saturday I got up early to soak the foot and then met E for an early showing of "Zodiac," which was also amazing and didn't feel at all like three hours of movie. We then headed down to the National Memory Championship at the Con Edison Pavilion, which was a lot of fun but a lot more waiting around. It didn't have the emotional intensity of a spelling bee (with adults you don't get as attached), but I do love a good mental match so the time was not wasted. I then met up with D, T, T and two other people whose names I can't remember to celebrate T's birthday at an awesome new vegetarian restaurant in Chelsea. I woke up early again yesterday and headed to TKTS in an attempt to get tickets for 'Rent' for Brother, Brother's fiance and myself. Score! after waiting in line for a good hour. I rushed home to soak the foot, inhaled lunch, and then met them at the show. Rent = AMAZING. Definitely top 5 I've seen here. I cried thrice. We want to do another show next weekend if I am here. It was a good first theater experience for them. We hung out back at the homestead for a bit, and then ate cheap Thai food.
Now I have to go to work, and have no desire to do so. When you know you're done with something, its impossible to keep motivated. I don't want to file my sick day paperwork from Friday because what's the point? I really want to give my notice so my work can be appropriate for someone who is leaving. The Boss doesn't know so he's proceeding normally, which frustrates me because I know much of what I am doing is pointless.
Anyway.
Stressed, I am.
OK. I think I've been submerged in salt for long enough.
Until tomorrow...
I'm tired. My schedule is off with Daylight Savings and bandage making.
I'm stressed. D told me yesterday that we were supposed to tell the landlord at the beginning of March whether we inteded to extend our lease for an extra month. If D gets an offer this week we'll be fine, but if not then we will have some difficult decisions to make based on a strong "hopefully."
I'm feeling socially smothered. When you're about to move, you feel compelled to squeeze everything into your last days. The museums you meant to see, friends you haven't seen in far too long, friends you are going to miss terribly, shows you've been dying to catch. I am going for tapas tonight with A, S, A and D, dinner tomorrow night with L and The Other L, to the ballet on Wednesday, having PW over on Thursday for dinner and music video watching. I may have to spend next weekend looking for an apartment, but really I want to catch up on sleep and spend time with friends. And pack. I am amidst an "I have too much stuff and I want to throw all of my possessions away" minimalist meltdown but it doesn't make sense to do that and then pack. They are better as a combined activity.
I have to sell my piano. It's giving me an ulcer. What will end up happening is that I will scramble at the last minute to pay someone to move the stupid thing onto the sidewalk to be thrown away. I am trying to sell it - it's on Craigslist and will be on flyers soon, but I may just donate it. But will the foundation for the blind even want my crappy piano?
D's talking about buying a condo. Oh my.
The antibiotics are making me feel lousy.
I have to go for foot follow ups this week. There is not time.
The weekend was good. I spent Friday being entirely unproductive aside from going to the post office to pick up a gift from the most fabulous apartment-guest ever. The evening was spent eating cheap Italian food with PW followed by a viewing of "The Host," which was amazing. Run out and see it as soon as you can. On Saturday I got up early to soak the foot and then met E for an early showing of "Zodiac," which was also amazing and didn't feel at all like three hours of movie. We then headed down to the National Memory Championship at the Con Edison Pavilion, which was a lot of fun but a lot more waiting around. It didn't have the emotional intensity of a spelling bee (with adults you don't get as attached), but I do love a good mental match so the time was not wasted. I then met up with D, T, T and two other people whose names I can't remember to celebrate T's birthday at an awesome new vegetarian restaurant in Chelsea. I woke up early again yesterday and headed to TKTS in an attempt to get tickets for 'Rent' for Brother, Brother's fiance and myself. Score! after waiting in line for a good hour. I rushed home to soak the foot, inhaled lunch, and then met them at the show. Rent = AMAZING. Definitely top 5 I've seen here. I cried thrice. We want to do another show next weekend if I am here. It was a good first theater experience for them. We hung out back at the homestead for a bit, and then ate cheap Thai food.
Now I have to go to work, and have no desire to do so. When you know you're done with something, its impossible to keep motivated. I don't want to file my sick day paperwork from Friday because what's the point? I really want to give my notice so my work can be appropriate for someone who is leaving. The Boss doesn't know so he's proceeding normally, which frustrates me because I know much of what I am doing is pointless.
Anyway.
Stressed, I am.
OK. I think I've been submerged in salt for long enough.
Until tomorrow...
Roses
I wish I could give a dozen roses to my subconscious for granting me two separate dreams last night about, ahem, Leonardo DiCaprio AND Johnny Depp.
Friday, March 09, 2007
There Is Time To Blog
There is time to blog because I am home "sick" with a no longer ingrown toenail. I went to the doctor's yesterday expecting a simple perscription for antibiotics to heal what I believed to be an infection, but no! Au revoir, toenail. LBF said "Oh my god! Have you seen what it looks like? It's going to be a bloody mess that looks like raw meat! You're toenail will be GONE! Did he take off the whole thing?" or something to that effect. I was worried, because I didn't know exactly what had happened because the doctor put up the little surgical curtain so I wouldn't be traumatized. It's only half missing and not terribly dramatic. It's high maintenance only because it involves soaking it three times a day and making a fancy wound dressing for the next ten days.
Now I'm home, feeling healthy and not really in any pain anymore. I am going to soak the foot today, and catch up on projects. And watch Screech on some show called "Dr. Keith." I think people watch these shows every day. I can't imagine.
Soon, however, I may not have anything to do with my days. D had his first interview yesterday and thinks it went well. They said he wouldn't have to start for a month, so this means the possibility of either working more here, or travelling! Exciting. Hopefully I'll be able to find some sort of temporary one month employment to occupy my days, or maybe I'll volunteer.
To catch up: Florida. I didn't have time to do my taxes. The visit was actually the perfect length - it started off rocky with my entering upon a lavish lunch involving meat and having various family members explain to my the ingredients available to me for a possible lunch. I didn't understand what this meant - was I supposed to cook something myself? Were they offering to cook for me? I am a person who is awkward in other people's kitchens - helping myself when I barely know the people, especially when the kitchen is enormous and I'd have to be interrupting THEIR lunch to ask them where various pots and pans are. I decided not to eat lunch at all (rather than make myself scrambled eggs while they ate), and ate instead an apple. D, my hero, found some secret bread stashed in the garage and made me a grilled cheese sandwich. After that it was smooth sailing - chatting, a nap, dinner (this time there was specially made tofu on the side, awww.....), bingo, sleeping too much, an entire day spent at Epcot Center just the two of us, more sleep, a nice long lunch of Vietnamese pancakes supplemented with herbs picked fresh from the garden, learning about Vietnamese wedding customs, more bingo, dinner, and then a delayed flight home after my fantasizing about becoming "estranged" from certain members of my own family who nearly sent me on a rampage after a phone call at the airport.
D's family is mellow, and I want to get used to that. Without great intimacy, I feel like there aren't as many expectations. This seems to me a better way to be. There's no drama. They just hang out without judging people, although D cautions me that people are always on their best behavior when there are non-family members around.
I only took photos at Epcot Center, and even those aren't too thrilling considering that we were, well, at Epcot Center.
This is the awesome water fountain (with the water that jumps in the air from pool to pool) near Journey to The Imagination that we loved when we were little kids. D loved it too (D' had never been to Epcot). I remembered exactly where it was and stood staring at it for what felt like an hour:
Kodak owns the pavilion into which Journey to The Imagination exits. It's a sensory experience - what would the world be like if photographs could evoke other senses? In this particular example, it was hearing sound when seeing a photograph:
This was a very high-tech photo laboratory involving the extremely high tech rainbow slinky:
We had lunch in the Mexico pavilion, across from the fake Chichen Itza:
Contrary to popular belief (or to rumors started by Father in the 80s in order to dissuade us from demanding Mickey Mouse ice cream on a stick while in The Magic Kingdom), food in Disney World is not drastically overpriced. I had a gigantic burrito with lettuce, tomato, sour cream, and salsa for $6.
There was a glassblower in the Mexico pavilion:
We watched him for about 15 minutes.
He was making turtles:
This China pavilion was awesome.
I wanted this dragon marionette:
I didn't buy him, however, because what am I going to do with any sort of marionette other than recreate the Lonely Goatherd scene from The Sound of Music?
One thing I realized being in Epcot Center was despite having been there three times prior, as a kid, I had never actually set foot in any of the pavilions. I guess the most we did was walk by, thus missing all of the fabulous shopping and snack-size museums. This makes sense, given that we were children and more concerned with going on rides.
This was a scale model of some of the soldiers found in a Chinese tomb. I guess in reality they stood 6 feet tall and there were about 60,000 of them.
There were smurfs for sale in the Germany pavilion. I didn't buy any of them, but I really wanted to buy the smurf at his desk with his laptop for Brother:
Tin toy robots in the Japan pavilion:
Fabulously packaged Japanese candies:
The Japanese have a mastery over packaging and what-is-cute, thus forcing you to want to buy every single thing. Our trip to the Japan pavilion only confirmed that we will do everything we can to take a trip to Japan within the next two years.
Japanese sodas:
I bought these Hello Kitty cookies as a consolation for not buying the Hello Kitty purse, bag, beach robe, stuffed kitty in kimono or ring:
D bought a Japanese soda that involves some sort of marble being pushed into the soda from the cap before you could drink it:
It caused a lot of confusion, but was worth it because the soda tasted like carbonated bubble gum:
We also visited the America pavilion (D had said "What would it be like if they had an America pavilion? A bunch of fat people walking around eating fast food?" Needless to say we bought a funnel cake with cherries on top in the America pavilion), the France pavilion (strawberry mousse!) and a couple other ones I'm not sure of because we didn't eat there. We also went on a few rides - Soarin', Honey I Shrunk the Audience, Test Track, Universe of Energy and whatever the ride is that's in the globe. Both the Universe of Energy (aka The Dinosaur Ride) and the globe ride broke down while we were on them. It was most surreal in the Universe of Energy, which involves a movie with Ellen Degeneres and Jamie Lee Curtis on Jeopardy with Alex Trebek. When the ride stopped, a woman got on the loud speaker and started describing to us what would be happening if the movie was still on. As in "Ellen would be writing for a while, Jamie Lee Curtis finished sooner, Alex says..." and so on. We had to be evacuated. It was insane.
After Epcot Center, we drove to downtown Disney with the exclusive purpose of going to the Lego store!
You could design and purchase three Lego minis for $9.99:
Best thing ever = a wall of Lego mini's:
D made a Lego Ninja:
I think the Lego Emergency Room is the funniest thing ever:
Don't they look delicious?
Outisde was a giant Lego T-Rex:
And giant Lego great white shark:
D was scared of them both. The best thing about these giant Lego sculptures is they design them to look like they're actually made of giant Legos.
Saving the best for last:
Lego NYC, complete with Lego King Kong.
We had a good time. The visit was the perfect length. I could have been there for one more day, but then that would have been too much. We'll be back in June for D's cousin's wedding, which will hopefully give us all a change to warm up to each other some more.
I should probably be soaking my foot now. I never thought I'd have to buy Epsom salts.
Have great weekends!
Now I'm home, feeling healthy and not really in any pain anymore. I am going to soak the foot today, and catch up on projects. And watch Screech on some show called "Dr. Keith." I think people watch these shows every day. I can't imagine.
Soon, however, I may not have anything to do with my days. D had his first interview yesterday and thinks it went well. They said he wouldn't have to start for a month, so this means the possibility of either working more here, or travelling! Exciting. Hopefully I'll be able to find some sort of temporary one month employment to occupy my days, or maybe I'll volunteer.
To catch up: Florida. I didn't have time to do my taxes. The visit was actually the perfect length - it started off rocky with my entering upon a lavish lunch involving meat and having various family members explain to my the ingredients available to me for a possible lunch. I didn't understand what this meant - was I supposed to cook something myself? Were they offering to cook for me? I am a person who is awkward in other people's kitchens - helping myself when I barely know the people, especially when the kitchen is enormous and I'd have to be interrupting THEIR lunch to ask them where various pots and pans are. I decided not to eat lunch at all (rather than make myself scrambled eggs while they ate), and ate instead an apple. D, my hero, found some secret bread stashed in the garage and made me a grilled cheese sandwich. After that it was smooth sailing - chatting, a nap, dinner (this time there was specially made tofu on the side, awww.....), bingo, sleeping too much, an entire day spent at Epcot Center just the two of us, more sleep, a nice long lunch of Vietnamese pancakes supplemented with herbs picked fresh from the garden, learning about Vietnamese wedding customs, more bingo, dinner, and then a delayed flight home after my fantasizing about becoming "estranged" from certain members of my own family who nearly sent me on a rampage after a phone call at the airport.
D's family is mellow, and I want to get used to that. Without great intimacy, I feel like there aren't as many expectations. This seems to me a better way to be. There's no drama. They just hang out without judging people, although D cautions me that people are always on their best behavior when there are non-family members around.
I only took photos at Epcot Center, and even those aren't too thrilling considering that we were, well, at Epcot Center.
This is the awesome water fountain (with the water that jumps in the air from pool to pool) near Journey to The Imagination that we loved when we were little kids. D loved it too (D' had never been to Epcot). I remembered exactly where it was and stood staring at it for what felt like an hour:
Kodak owns the pavilion into which Journey to The Imagination exits. It's a sensory experience - what would the world be like if photographs could evoke other senses? In this particular example, it was hearing sound when seeing a photograph:
This was a very high-tech photo laboratory involving the extremely high tech rainbow slinky:
We had lunch in the Mexico pavilion, across from the fake Chichen Itza:
Contrary to popular belief (or to rumors started by Father in the 80s in order to dissuade us from demanding Mickey Mouse ice cream on a stick while in The Magic Kingdom), food in Disney World is not drastically overpriced. I had a gigantic burrito with lettuce, tomato, sour cream, and salsa for $6.
There was a glassblower in the Mexico pavilion:
We watched him for about 15 minutes.
He was making turtles:
This China pavilion was awesome.
I wanted this dragon marionette:
I didn't buy him, however, because what am I going to do with any sort of marionette other than recreate the Lonely Goatherd scene from The Sound of Music?
One thing I realized being in Epcot Center was despite having been there three times prior, as a kid, I had never actually set foot in any of the pavilions. I guess the most we did was walk by, thus missing all of the fabulous shopping and snack-size museums. This makes sense, given that we were children and more concerned with going on rides.
This was a scale model of some of the soldiers found in a Chinese tomb. I guess in reality they stood 6 feet tall and there were about 60,000 of them.
There were smurfs for sale in the Germany pavilion. I didn't buy any of them, but I really wanted to buy the smurf at his desk with his laptop for Brother:
Tin toy robots in the Japan pavilion:
Fabulously packaged Japanese candies:
The Japanese have a mastery over packaging and what-is-cute, thus forcing you to want to buy every single thing. Our trip to the Japan pavilion only confirmed that we will do everything we can to take a trip to Japan within the next two years.
Japanese sodas:
I bought these Hello Kitty cookies as a consolation for not buying the Hello Kitty purse, bag, beach robe, stuffed kitty in kimono or ring:
D bought a Japanese soda that involves some sort of marble being pushed into the soda from the cap before you could drink it:
It caused a lot of confusion, but was worth it because the soda tasted like carbonated bubble gum:
We also visited the America pavilion (D had said "What would it be like if they had an America pavilion? A bunch of fat people walking around eating fast food?" Needless to say we bought a funnel cake with cherries on top in the America pavilion), the France pavilion (strawberry mousse!) and a couple other ones I'm not sure of because we didn't eat there. We also went on a few rides - Soarin', Honey I Shrunk the Audience, Test Track, Universe of Energy and whatever the ride is that's in the globe. Both the Universe of Energy (aka The Dinosaur Ride) and the globe ride broke down while we were on them. It was most surreal in the Universe of Energy, which involves a movie with Ellen Degeneres and Jamie Lee Curtis on Jeopardy with Alex Trebek. When the ride stopped, a woman got on the loud speaker and started describing to us what would be happening if the movie was still on. As in "Ellen would be writing for a while, Jamie Lee Curtis finished sooner, Alex says..." and so on. We had to be evacuated. It was insane.
After Epcot Center, we drove to downtown Disney with the exclusive purpose of going to the Lego store!
You could design and purchase three Lego minis for $9.99:
Best thing ever = a wall of Lego mini's:
D made a Lego Ninja:
I think the Lego Emergency Room is the funniest thing ever:
Don't they look delicious?
Outisde was a giant Lego T-Rex:
And giant Lego great white shark:
D was scared of them both. The best thing about these giant Lego sculptures is they design them to look like they're actually made of giant Legos.
Saving the best for last:
Lego NYC, complete with Lego King Kong.
We had a good time. The visit was the perfect length. I could have been there for one more day, but then that would have been too much. We'll be back in June for D's cousin's wedding, which will hopefully give us all a change to warm up to each other some more.
I should probably be soaking my foot now. I never thought I'd have to buy Epsom salts.
Have great weekends!
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Mexico
I've been to Mexico and the Epcot Center version of Mexico in the last 6 months.
I bet you can't tell which one is the real Mexico!
Florida was actually quite pleasant and relaxing. More later when there is actually time to blog. When will there actually be time to blog? Never.
I bet you can't tell which one is the real Mexico!
Florida was actually quite pleasant and relaxing. More later when there is actually time to blog. When will there actually be time to blog? Never.
Friday, March 02, 2007
Taxes
Is it rude to do your taxes while visiting your potential future in-laws?
I don't see why it would be. What's the difference between reading eight books and doing taxes? There are no differences. Actually, I imagine I could do my taxes for 16 hours straight and not even be missed, so yes, I will bring my taxes to FL and check them off of the list. Woo. Hoo.
I'm off to Orlando tomorrow morning at the crack of dawn. I will be there, unnoticed, for three days. I am less than thrilled about this for a variety of reasons, the main one being that my time in NYC is limited and I don't want to spend what time remains in Orlando or anywhere else, really. Especially under these circumstances, but love is most important and you just have to do this sort of thing whether you like it or not. I am feeling particularly "not" with all that is going on - moving, uncertain future, wanting to spend time with people here (my family, in particular), the big day possibly happening on Tuesday but not finding out until Monday when I am in Orlando with people who couldn't care less about my existence.
I had too much tequila last night and when I crawled into bed, D took the opportunity to say "I know that you've been withdrawn lately and in a bad mood and I think it's probably because of what's going on with your family and I just want you to know that I'm here for you if you ever want to talk about things." He's so wonderful, so I didn't say what I truly wanted to say, which was that I'd be in an exponentially better mood once we returned from FL. In all honesty I just want to fast forward to the possibility of Tuesday so I can deal with things instead of dread them.
I hadn't anticipated that I'd be freaking out, and I can't freak out while around D's family because they, well, it's cultural, I know, and its not a culture of, well, feelings. They also obviously (thankfully) don't know what's going on, and I'm not going to tell them because they will be unresponsive and that will hurt my feelings even more.
I hate having secrets, and I hate having to pretend. I thought I'd feel stronger but seeing Father last week was more difficult than I'd anticipated. I keep seeing the scene, over and over again in my mind, where we all walked away while he got into his car and drove away by himself. It makes me want to cry every time. I guess I would rather be in MA than FL (although somehow not staying with anyone to whom I'm related unless it was Sister), but I'd rather be in NYC just crying this all out Just In Case.
Instead I'll be in FL staring at walls, catching up on phone calls, doing my taxes, reading books and magazines, taking long walks by myself, hopefully doing some photography, hopefully not playing more than 15 games of Phase 10, hopefully keeping my mind occupied where there's nothing to occupy my mind. We didn't get tickets to the Cirque because we didn't talk about the trip until this morning. We're not renting a car, which means we won't be going anywhere although we can borrow the car on Sunday to maybe go to Disney World. That could be fun. D's never been. I have nostalgia and can't decide if I want to ruin it or not.
I'm also getting sick, which is destroying any potential I have to psych myself up for this.
Anyway.
Have good weekends.
Until Tuesday...
I don't see why it would be. What's the difference between reading eight books and doing taxes? There are no differences. Actually, I imagine I could do my taxes for 16 hours straight and not even be missed, so yes, I will bring my taxes to FL and check them off of the list. Woo. Hoo.
I'm off to Orlando tomorrow morning at the crack of dawn. I will be there, unnoticed, for three days. I am less than thrilled about this for a variety of reasons, the main one being that my time in NYC is limited and I don't want to spend what time remains in Orlando or anywhere else, really. Especially under these circumstances, but love is most important and you just have to do this sort of thing whether you like it or not. I am feeling particularly "not" with all that is going on - moving, uncertain future, wanting to spend time with people here (my family, in particular), the big day possibly happening on Tuesday but not finding out until Monday when I am in Orlando with people who couldn't care less about my existence.
I had too much tequila last night and when I crawled into bed, D took the opportunity to say "I know that you've been withdrawn lately and in a bad mood and I think it's probably because of what's going on with your family and I just want you to know that I'm here for you if you ever want to talk about things." He's so wonderful, so I didn't say what I truly wanted to say, which was that I'd be in an exponentially better mood once we returned from FL. In all honesty I just want to fast forward to the possibility of Tuesday so I can deal with things instead of dread them.
I hadn't anticipated that I'd be freaking out, and I can't freak out while around D's family because they, well, it's cultural, I know, and its not a culture of, well, feelings. They also obviously (thankfully) don't know what's going on, and I'm not going to tell them because they will be unresponsive and that will hurt my feelings even more.
I hate having secrets, and I hate having to pretend. I thought I'd feel stronger but seeing Father last week was more difficult than I'd anticipated. I keep seeing the scene, over and over again in my mind, where we all walked away while he got into his car and drove away by himself. It makes me want to cry every time. I guess I would rather be in MA than FL (although somehow not staying with anyone to whom I'm related unless it was Sister), but I'd rather be in NYC just crying this all out Just In Case.
Instead I'll be in FL staring at walls, catching up on phone calls, doing my taxes, reading books and magazines, taking long walks by myself, hopefully doing some photography, hopefully not playing more than 15 games of Phase 10, hopefully keeping my mind occupied where there's nothing to occupy my mind. We didn't get tickets to the Cirque because we didn't talk about the trip until this morning. We're not renting a car, which means we won't be going anywhere although we can borrow the car on Sunday to maybe go to Disney World. That could be fun. D's never been. I have nostalgia and can't decide if I want to ruin it or not.
I'm also getting sick, which is destroying any potential I have to psych myself up for this.
Anyway.
Have good weekends.
Until Tuesday...
Thursday, March 01, 2007
I Am Reminded That I Never Finished Blogging About Portland....
... so here you go.
On our second day in Portland, D and I separated from Brother and drove around randomly in search of the coast. Everything from Day 2 was accidentally discovered as we didn't adhere at all to the trajectory D had outlined on the map.
Ummm....
... we found a place to buy guitars! And guns!
We were thrilled when we happened upon Cape Meares.
Cape Meares was very quiet and absolutely breathtaking.
There was a cool lighthouse.
There is a little forest/picnic area at Cape Meares. Here are some trees and also some more trees:
This is "The Octopus Tree" - the eight cancerous stumps are attributed to wind, but seriously, how is that possible? No other trees in the area had eight cancerous stumps.
Cape Meares was gorgeous. We did a lot of skipping around and lying on the grass, enjoying the clean air. After walking around for about an hour, we decided to hit the road in search of food. You can imagine our ecstasy when we accidentally drove right into...
... the Tillamook Cheese Factory.
D and I are both insane for cheese, as well as for factories, thanks, on my part, to the saxophone factory segment on Sesame Street.
You can give yourself a tour of the factory for free. There are observation decks above the factory. Needless to say we spent about two hours staring down at the processes. It was amazing. Quite possibly the best thing ever.
I think that they actually make the cheese in the morning, so we weren't able to see that. We were only able to see the packaging of the cheese.
Yes, those are huge blocks of cheese.
You could sample cheese curd in the store.
The store has tons of cheese, as wells as gifts.
There is also Tillamook ice cream, but we didn't get to see that being made.
We did, however, try the pistachio (ew) and blueberry cheesecake flavored ice creams. The blueberry cheesecake flavored ice cream tasted exactly like blueberry cheesecake, and was therefore the most wonderful thing I have ever consumed.
On our way back to the hotel, we encountered more amazing coast.
But the best was yet to come. We accidentally came upon this...
... which turned out to be the beach from Goonies!
It's called Cannon Beach, and the tallest rock is around 250 feet tall.
It was low tide so we could walk right up to the rocks.
I think I was the happiest I've ever been on this beach. It was so majestic, so unexpected, so serene. It's been a year for amazing sights - Stonehenge, Chichen Itza, The Goonies beach. I am so lucky.
D found a starfish at the base of one of the rocks. It was hard to photograph since it was pitch black outside.
On Day 3 the weather was gross (normal for Portland, we were lucky to experience the abnormal weather the previous two days), so we went shopping. Brother had found this amazing store the day before:
I can't even begin to explain how happy My Little Ponies and Strawberry Shortcakes make me now. My recurrent nightmare as of late has been that I am rummaging through these old toys and wishing that I was a kid again. I'm not sure that I'll ever get over certain things, and I commend my subconscious for trying to protect me by transferring my angst onto the toys.
Post-shopping, we met DH for brunch at The Pancake House, which was crowded and lame, so he took us instead to a little vegan-friendly place downtown where I had an amazing tofu/garlic/herb scramble. We then went to some vintage clothing stores and ate more food, drove around the city for a bit, shopped, shopped some more (I bought the most amazing shirt for $20 and the most amazing dress for $43 - no tax! weee!), ate Lebanese food, and drove to the airport, where I instantly fell asleep in my chair.
Portland - a cute little city, but dreary. I don't think I could live there. I think the weather would get to me. The car-driving would get to me. The ocean and cheese factory job I would try, perhaps, would negate these things. Would I live there? If I had to. I wouldn't protest. The people were so very nice, hopeful, smiley. The coast, the forest, the food... all good. We had a great time.
I'm illiterate right now, if you couldn't tell. It's nearly 7:30 and I've been at work since 9:00 and NOTHING IS WORKING. Awesome.
So yeah. Portland. Awesome time had.
I need to get out of here.
Until tomorrow...
On our second day in Portland, D and I separated from Brother and drove around randomly in search of the coast. Everything from Day 2 was accidentally discovered as we didn't adhere at all to the trajectory D had outlined on the map.
Ummm....
... we found a place to buy guitars! And guns!
We were thrilled when we happened upon Cape Meares.
Cape Meares was very quiet and absolutely breathtaking.
There was a cool lighthouse.
There is a little forest/picnic area at Cape Meares. Here are some trees and also some more trees:
This is "The Octopus Tree" - the eight cancerous stumps are attributed to wind, but seriously, how is that possible? No other trees in the area had eight cancerous stumps.
Cape Meares was gorgeous. We did a lot of skipping around and lying on the grass, enjoying the clean air. After walking around for about an hour, we decided to hit the road in search of food. You can imagine our ecstasy when we accidentally drove right into...
... the Tillamook Cheese Factory.
D and I are both insane for cheese, as well as for factories, thanks, on my part, to the saxophone factory segment on Sesame Street.
You can give yourself a tour of the factory for free. There are observation decks above the factory. Needless to say we spent about two hours staring down at the processes. It was amazing. Quite possibly the best thing ever.
I think that they actually make the cheese in the morning, so we weren't able to see that. We were only able to see the packaging of the cheese.
Yes, those are huge blocks of cheese.
You could sample cheese curd in the store.
The store has tons of cheese, as wells as gifts.
There is also Tillamook ice cream, but we didn't get to see that being made.
We did, however, try the pistachio (ew) and blueberry cheesecake flavored ice creams. The blueberry cheesecake flavored ice cream tasted exactly like blueberry cheesecake, and was therefore the most wonderful thing I have ever consumed.
On our way back to the hotel, we encountered more amazing coast.
But the best was yet to come. We accidentally came upon this...
... which turned out to be the beach from Goonies!
It's called Cannon Beach, and the tallest rock is around 250 feet tall.
It was low tide so we could walk right up to the rocks.
I think I was the happiest I've ever been on this beach. It was so majestic, so unexpected, so serene. It's been a year for amazing sights - Stonehenge, Chichen Itza, The Goonies beach. I am so lucky.
D found a starfish at the base of one of the rocks. It was hard to photograph since it was pitch black outside.
On Day 3 the weather was gross (normal for Portland, we were lucky to experience the abnormal weather the previous two days), so we went shopping. Brother had found this amazing store the day before:
I can't even begin to explain how happy My Little Ponies and Strawberry Shortcakes make me now. My recurrent nightmare as of late has been that I am rummaging through these old toys and wishing that I was a kid again. I'm not sure that I'll ever get over certain things, and I commend my subconscious for trying to protect me by transferring my angst onto the toys.
Post-shopping, we met DH for brunch at The Pancake House, which was crowded and lame, so he took us instead to a little vegan-friendly place downtown where I had an amazing tofu/garlic/herb scramble. We then went to some vintage clothing stores and ate more food, drove around the city for a bit, shopped, shopped some more (I bought the most amazing shirt for $20 and the most amazing dress for $43 - no tax! weee!), ate Lebanese food, and drove to the airport, where I instantly fell asleep in my chair.
Portland - a cute little city, but dreary. I don't think I could live there. I think the weather would get to me. The car-driving would get to me. The ocean and cheese factory job I would try, perhaps, would negate these things. Would I live there? If I had to. I wouldn't protest. The people were so very nice, hopeful, smiley. The coast, the forest, the food... all good. We had a great time.
I'm illiterate right now, if you couldn't tell. It's nearly 7:30 and I've been at work since 9:00 and NOTHING IS WORKING. Awesome.
So yeah. Portland. Awesome time had.
I need to get out of here.
Until tomorrow...
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