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...

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...

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...

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.