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.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
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...
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