Landing in Buenos Aires! - Saturday

The view of the sunrise from the plane was exquisite. I snapped a few photos and set my watch ahead.

Or so I thought. When we landed my watch was two hours behind Buenos Aires time. I said "Huh, wait, is Buenos Aires two hours ahead? I have no idea what's going on." No idea. I'm so sure I set it ahead one hour.

We went through customs without difficulty and were met by N and P. We'd been debating whether or not they'd be there, since no concrete plans to meet up had been established. We just assumed everything was taken care of. M said "If they don't meet us, we have no way of getting in touch with them. We don't even know where the wedding is. But they know where we are, so they can find us."

We stopped briefly and everyone but me had coffee of some sort while we waited for E and B to arrive. E and B are N's friends from graduate school. They arrived, delirious, and soon we were ready to head to the hotel. Except that M and A realized that their backpack was... MISSING!

Crisis. Major crisis. Thankfully P, who is from Buenos Aires and who therefore speaks Spanish, was the hero and led M and A around the airport until they found their backpack where they'd left it by the baggage claim. Literally. Right on the ground where we'd been standing, untouched. They weren't sure that's where it would be, but thankfully, it was there, along with the entirety of its pricey contents.

P drove us to the hotel where we quickly unpacked and showered.

N and P picked us up again and we went to Puerto Madero for lunch. Puerto Madero is on the water and is below Buenos Aires on the map we had, but is not actually south of Buenos Aires. We don't know. We think this could be a southern hemisphere thing.

We couldn't stop marvelling at its being winter in July. It was really, really cold.

We settled on a lovely Italian restaurant that served awesome bread and these hard pita type breads with cheese on top. Best thing ever. My mouth is watering just thinking about it.

N and P dropped us off at the Buenos Aires Design Center after lunch. The Design Center is a mall full of stores selling modern furniture and home goods. Everything in this place suits my taste, which actually made me feel sort of trite. It's one thing when you find an isolated cool item for your home and people say "Where did you get that?" and you have a cool story. It's another thing when you're around hundreds of people with the same exact taste as you and when items aren't unique.

I took this photo in one of the stores before we got in trouble for taking photographs:



M, A, B, E, D and myself wandered around the Design Center for a bit and then walked over to a street/craft fair in the Recoleta neighborhood where our hotel was. We found all sorts of lovely things - jewelry, shoes, possible gifts to bring back for family and friends - but bought nothing because it was freezing and because we thought "We'll come back tomorrow!"

We went back to the hotel and napped? Or something? I don't know. The day is a blur.

I think D and I called E and B and went on a crusade to find dinner, but, as is customary with yours truly, our hotel was, of course, in a neighborhood with no restaurants.

None.

For example, when Sister and I were in San Francisco we often found ourselves wandering around, starving, desperate for food and unable to find a single place to eat.

Last summer, when RR came to NYC to help me find an apartment, the same thing happened. We literally wandered for an hour without finding a single restaurant (with hindsight I think we may have been on Lexington but I had no idea at the time) and ended up hailing a cab to take us to Little Italy, where I had a mental breakdown due to hunger and due to not wanting to live in a donut shaped abode.

D found a place in the guidebook which became our destination, but it was not there.

We wandered around aimlessly, starving, having no idea if we'd ever find anywhere to eat.

We finally found a Mexican place. We called A and M, who joined us for our first dinner in Buenos Aires. I had a marvelous peach margerita and slept for like 11 hours that night.

On the Way to Buenos Aires! - Friday

Ok...

I am going to quickly try to write about the trip, so pardon any grammatical or spelling errors. M - please feel free to add to this. I am so very tired and can't remember everything.

Nevertheless.....

D and I decided to take the Super Shuttle to JFK on Friday night. We'd had a minor argument about this. D was concerned about money and traffic. I was concerned about ease and the weight of my luggage. I said "I am calling a shuttle. You can join me or not. I can meet you at the airport if you would prefer that." He offered to carry my luggage and finally said "Well, I guess if you're taking a shuttle I'll come along."

The shuttle, of course, was late.

And then we hit traffic.

And then the driver got lost picking up the other passengers.

And then there was more traffic.

And irate passengers.

And D being in one of his rare bad moods.

I feared a grand "I told you so" but luckily it was foiled by the coincidence that the last passenger picked up by the shuttle was from Buenos Aires!

D was quickly distracted from his vile mood because he was able to speak Spanish and go over the map of Buenos Aires with a local. I had to look away as I was getting carsick in the back of the van. I listened, though, and made sure to remember the tips she offered. She said things like "Tango is for tourists" and "Palermo Viejo is like New York City... trendy... for people like you..." and "You must go to Tigre... it is like the Hamptons."

I couldn't get over the coincidence. Not only was she on our flight, but the two people in the front were also on the same flight to LA! What are the odds? About an hour after we were dropped off it occurred to me that the shuttle people probably arrange for people who are taking the same flights to be on the same shuttle so as to minimize drop offs. But I was really excited for a while.

We arrived at the airport with over two hours to spare. It was slightly awkward since we said goodbye to Valeria. D said "Should we hang out with her in the line!? And then we'll be on the plane with her!" "She probably wants to be alone," I said. He said "But I was hoping she'd invite us to her house in Buenos Aires!!"

I love D's faith in humanity. I wish I wasn't so cynical. I wish I could assume that strangers want to welcome me into their homes when they themselves haven't been home in weeks.

We met up with M and A, who had been at the airport for hours and who had forgotten a piece of their luggage in Worcester. There was much discussion of what should be done - ship the clothes? Buy new ones? Either way, I was envious of their packing savvy as they had packed comfortable clothes to change into on the plane. It never occurred to me to bring shamrock patterned pajama bottoms for the flight. Oh well.

The flight did not feel like 10.5 hours.

I woke up a couple of times during my occasional sleep to wander to the bathroom. Each time I struggled with my shoes. In my delirium I could never quite put them on. When we landed, I realized that my feet had swollen to nearly twice their normal width. Crazy. I had no idea that happened. I also lost my glasses one time and had to wake D up to find them for me. I didn't want to step on them, although it wouldn't have been a travesty considering I'd brought three other pairs.

I didn't watch the movies or read a word of what I brought or play cards or listen to my IPod. I just ate my vegetarian meal and slept. Apparently the long flight wasn't as dramatic as I'd feared.

I Spent More Money on the Cab Ride from JFK to My Apartment Than I Did In a Week in Buenos Aires

Hello folks. I am back from Buenos Aires and for the first time in my life am happy about humidity. It is a hot, gross day in New York City and it feels amazing. The concrete is boiling and life is good.

Last night, prior to seeing Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, D asked "So, have you had the chance to reflect on the trip?"

"No, not really. We just got back. And, well, what do you mean?"

"You know. Like how your world view has changed. That sort of thing."

"Hmmm. I don't think my world view has changed," I said.

"Really?" he asked in disbelief.

"Wait. Well. Has yours?"

"I don't know yet. I haven't had time to reflect."

I've been reflecting today, and am feeling much better about New York City. And life in general, because I think there are problems everywhere.

So yeah. I'm back and work already sucks. Nothing worked today. My boss is going to flip out when he gets back from the company outing, which I did not attend because "company outing" means "family day" and I am without family here. My apartment somehow managed to get extremely dirty while I was gone. My wallet is already hurting. I've spent almost as much in two days in NYC than I did for a week in Buenos Aires.

Surprisingly, I don't care. Warm weather has miraculous properties.

So yes. I have returned and am back to being boring. Tonight I am going to pick up laundry (yes! clean clothes!) and clean my bathroom. Woo. Hoo. And then I will sleep. Lots.

I had a great time in Buenos Aires. The pre-trip drama was resolved and things are now better than they've ever been. I think feeling equal can save relationships. The faces were beautiful. The food and drink were plenty. The wedding was amazing. The air was cold but the people were not.

I will post some photos and stories from the trip when I get a chance.

OK. Now I must work. Yeah. Awshummmmm.

I was making a toasted cheese last night (this is the technique wherein you are too lazy to make a grilled cheese so instead you put the bread plus cheese in the toaster oven) after round one of packing. I glanced quickly to check the status of the cheese/bread and saw the following: one of those small roach-like things IN THE TOASTER OVEN WITH MY SANDWICH being cooked.

Awshummmm.

Yeah. Not a real big cockroach. One of those smaller, fast-moving bastards that look like less aesthetically pleasing crickets. This is the third time I've seen one in three weeks. I am not yet worried - if I see more I'll do something about it.

The last one I saw decided to make its home on my camera battery charger and when I unplugged it the bug crawled on my hand and then landed on the floor. It turned into a showdown with me shouting "D! D! Hand me my shoe! QUICK!" and the roach just still until D appeared with the shoe. Then it ran under the piano at the speed of light.

But. DEAR GOD.

Probably grossest kitchen incident thus far in life.

No. Second grossest. There was the time I forgot about some potatos for about a year and when I found them... yeah. Alien potatos with red eye trees growing out of them. I nearly vomited.

The roach only made my stomach churn. A lot.

I removed the roach with a spoon. Now the idea of my spoons make my stomach churn.

Why are we so afraid of bugs? I have no idea.

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On my way to work this morning I was lamenting not calling my short-lived "band project" Leah and Issues. One of the boys in the short-lived "band project" suggested it as a joke, but I really liked it.

Because its sort of cute in a homage to Huey Lewis and the News sort of way.

And obviously, issues.

I probably was thinking this because on my way to work I was also thinking "I have issues."

I am having all sorts of issues. About the future. About finances. About decisions. About kids.

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Which reminds me that I have come up with a good idea for a Post Secret.

I am going to make it and send it in when I get back from Buenos Aires.

I'm not going to tell you what it is, because its a secret.

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I am exhausted today because I got no sleep last night.

Not because of packing or insomnia or because of forcing myself to stay up so that I will be guaranteed sleep on the overnight flight, but because of a three hour conversation that has me feeling only slightly better.

I don't want to have secrets. I want to know everything. I want to know everything about him that touches us. I don't want to feel guilty about things I don't know about.

This has me feeling something I haven't felt in a long time - that feeling in the pit of your stomach that is caused by the fear of losing something that you're not sure should be lost.

Things will be fine. Sometimes, though, it doesn't feel that way.

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I wish emotional distress didn't go to the stomach.

Why can't it accumulate in, say, the wrist?

No, then I couldn't blog or play piano.

No extremities. Because when emotionally distressed it is important to write and to go for long walks by oneself during which one thinks severely about things.

But it is also important to eat.

I don't know. I don't know what I'm talking about. I guess I just wish I was the type of person who consumed endless containers of ice cream when sad instead of being the type of person who doesn't want to eat at all.

Not that I'm not eating. I just couldn't care less about eating, but it could be because of almost having a cockroach with my dinner.

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So yes! Leaving for Buenos Aires tonight and am thinking mainly about what less-expensive-than-NYC haircut I will get and whether that haircut will be blonde or black or a combination of both. Right now I am leaning towards both, although I am slightly concerned because I do not speak a word of Spanish and how will I communicate my hair desires with hand motions?

The packing went relatively smoothly. Since we have no plans, I had no idea what to bring, so I brought everything. I overpacked. Not my usual style, but I think overpacking is the easier option and ease is a priority right now.

I am excited.

Not in a tangible way, though.

I'm sure once I see M and A I'll be excited, because they will be excited and prepared and will arrive with all sorts of goodies designed to entertain humans on 11 hour flights.

So.

I'm off, readers!

Until next Monday....

Have good weekends and weeks.

Jobs

I watched Rivers and Tides last night, the documentary about Andy Goldsworthy. In case you don't know who Andy Goldsworthy is (I didn't prior to hearing about this documentary a few years ago), he is a sculptor who creates works out of natural objects such as leaves or icicles and assembles them so that they'll be destroyed by nature. He does this to study time and the interaction between the earth and its creations.

Blah blah blah.

Anyway, the documentary was awesome and you should all see it. It is very serene and calm and lovely until this one scene that takes you by surprise in which some dude basically takes down a sheep and then pulls a BABY SHEEP - LAMB - from it!

You're like "Wtf!? What!? Why!??! AHHHH!!"

When this happened, I turned to D and said "Isn't it crazy how different his job is from ours?"

So crazy.

Like there are people out there who raise sheep and help them give birth.

Then there are people who make clothes or food out of animals.

And then there are artists who take wool and gently place it atop stone walls to make a statement about energy and time.

And then there are people who clone sheep.

In the movie there were people who put up a wall. I thought "Huh. What if my job was to make walls? Would that be better or worse than what I do?"

I think it would be awesome if, like in schools, there was some sort of job exchange program. Like you could go on exchange with someone who works on a farm, or who owns a laundromat, or who builds bridges, or who deep sea fishes, or who taste tests ice cream, or who drives a zamboni.

D said "The world is so beautiful. What are we doing here?"

I have no idea what the answer to that question is.

I suddenly want to buy a farm and make things out of twigs.

Boomerang Again

I just wrote that post and am now wondering if this even happened, because man. That's just weird.

Boomerang

The most bizarre thing just happened.

I was in the middle of this huge experiment in the hood when I was approached by a woman from my group.

She said "I know we don't talk very much..."

I got very excited! I thought "Ah ha! Somebody is finally confronting me about me and D! I have been waiting for this moment!" I haven't really been waiting for it, as much as I've considered it because it will probably happen, and I'm always wondering what I will do and say. It is of particular concern this week, as D and I are departing, together, for Buenos Aires on Friday. People on my floor keep asking me with whom I am going to Argentina, and I say "I am meeting my friend M and her husband at JFK - they will be coming from MA because its less expensive to fly out of New York..." I then, in all further conversation, refer to the group as "we" without mentioning that D is part of it.

I digress... as usual.

She then said "... but I have to ask of you a favor."

"Oh, ok," I said, disappointed by the lack of drama and confrontation.

"What do you need?" I asked, expecting her to request a reagent or time in the hood or maybe some relevant gossip as she has recently started working with my boss on a side project.

"Well, I know you're artistic... I'd like to request your artistic help."

Oh no.

OK. Not the end of the world. I am super busy at work this week, but whatever. I enjoy making slides. Maybe she wants help with an animated slide! Yipee!!! I could make time for an animated slide.

"OK - what do you need?"

"I need you to draw me a boomerang."

"What?"

"I need a drawing of a boomerang. I've been looking online but I can't find anything good."

Oh. My. God.

"A boomerang? I'm not very good... I don't think I can draw a boomerang..."

"No, I've seen you doodling in lab meeting. I know you can draw."

"No, I can't."

"Yes, you can. I've seen you." This woman is the same woman who, when she went into labor, walked a couple of miles to the hospital instead of being driven. She's nice, but a bit... well... severe.

I wasn't being modest. I can't draw. I really can't. I said "Look, yeah, I can draw, no, I can doodle the occasional face, but I don't think I can draw a boomerang."

If she'd asked me for a cute little blonde girl walking down the streets of NYC, fine. I could draw that. I could draw a phone, or a car, or a computer. I could draw a receptor. I could draw anything I looked at. I could find a picture online and draw something, but it wouldn't be better than what I'd found online!

And really. Drawing a boomerang is hard. It's also weird. It's like if someone said "Draw a box." It's more of a shape than a thing, right? You would draw a square. Drawing a boomerang is the same as drawing the shape of a boomerang. I wanted to be like "Dude, you can draw a boomerang just as well as I can! It's like drawing a triangle or something!"

"I don't know..." I said.

She kept insisting. "I have seen you draw. You can do it. And if its not as good as anything I found online, I won't use it."

"OK," I gave in, "But can I ask you... what do you need it for?"

Reluctantly, as though she was about to say "Actually, Leah Lar, I have been sent to your planet by The Master and I have found the key to the universe right here in this incubator but, well, it is very tragic because you and everyone on your planet will die unless you can draw a perfectly symmetrical boomerang on this piece of graph paper," she said "I have to show it to someone. I have to show someone what a boomerang is."

The pressure! First of all, who doesn't know what a boomerang is? Second of all, I don't want to be responsible for explaining to someone what a boomerang is! It's going to look like a freaking piece of macaroni! Or a moon! Did she want someone throwing the boomerang? Did she want context? Did she want Crocodile Dundee?

My guess is that they do not have boomerangs in Afghanistan.

But why does she need to be so secretive? Who doesn't know about the boomerang?

I tried. I really did. But it just looks like a drawing of a boomerang, and I feel like if you don't already know what a boomerang is, the drawing isn't going to help.

I googled "Boomerang" and sent her some links after saying "I tried, but I can't draw a boomerang better than an actual photo of a boomerang, or any of the boomerang schematics I found online."

Hilarious.

OK. Work now.

Thank You, Duane

A follow-up to the Noxzema Crisis:

I have figured it out!

During my searches for the alleged Noxzema Triple Clean, I looked at other Noxzema products and started to wonder if I was insane, since the Noxzema products looked nothing like I remembered.

This caused me to wonder if I'd been using Noxzema at all.

I went to Duane Reade last night after a very. long. stressful. most stressful ever. day at work, and thought "If they don't have it, I am going to lose my shit. Do not fail me, Duane Reade. The fate of the universe rests in your hands."

I decided, this time, to be thorough in my search. I looked at all of the Noxzema products. Upon closer inspection, I realized that the Noxzema products were advertising their "Fresh new look!"

AH HA!

They did, thankfully, have the triple clean facial cleanser in its hot new silver/blue tube (much more attractive than the stale, old look, which, if you know what it looked like, tends to remind one of the good ol' 80s).

I imagine the lack of triple clean must have been due to this Noxzema Aesthetic turnover. And no, it's not that I didn't read the labels because I didn't recognize the packaging. I did. Perhaps Noxzema just took longest designing the fresh new look for its star product, and couldn't have the old stale look causing eye stores on shelves with the other new packaging.

So I am psyched, and will hopefully have normal and even skin by the time I get to Buenos Aires, which, incidentally, will be in only a few days!!!

When Things Cease to Exist

I am a girl. I am concerned about my skin. I've never had good skin. I have what people in the industry call "combination skin."

It took me forever to find a good facial cleaner. For the past few years, I've been using Noxzema's Triple Clean Cleanser.

I switched at one point when someone told me my skin-cleaning routine was less than optimal, but then my face started getting really dry so I had to switch back.

I bring this all up because I ran out of Triple Clean while I was in New Hampshire. I didn't fret. I thought "I'll just get more when I am next in a CVS."

I went to a CVS in Cambridge and they did not have it.

"Interesting..." I thought, and just borrowed Sister's Neutrogena for my remaining time in MA.

When I got back to NYC, I went to two CVS's and neither of them had it.

"Well, everywhere you go - Duane Reade!" I sang, and went to a Duane Reade.

They did not have it either!

I thought "Maybe I have no idea what I'm looking for. Maybe I'm confused. Maybe it was Clearasil? I know it was blue. It must have been Clearasil."

I bought the Clearasil and have been using it for a week and my face is already coming off. Dryness. No good!

Now.

I looked online and Noxzema Triple Clean does, in fact, exist.

But it seems as though you can no longer buy it in stores. I don't know that for a fact, but I have tried four places and none of them had it. I am going to go to another Duane Reade tonight and if its not there, what am I going to do?

I could order it online, but that seems absurd. I could buy something else, but who knows if it will be good for the face? I can't continue to waste money on things that are just going to make the skin situation worse.

But, more importantly, a huge pet peeve of mine is when things to which I am addicted cease to exist!!!

Seriously. Like why did Noxzema just stop making this? Well, I don't think they did, because its still on the website, but I can't rationalize paying shipping for a $4 bottle of facial cleanser.

What happened?

And what am I supposed to do in the aftermath?

This has happened historically with food.

When we were little kids, we used to eat at this restaurant in Milford, MA called Pub Dennis (right near the rollerskating rink - yeah!). They made these special drinks for kids that they called "slushies" but were this Pub-Dennis-Only concoction of like creamy goodness and syrup that I can't even describe. Most amazing drink of all time. We went there fairly regularly - like at least once a month. One time we went there and ordered the "slushie" and they brought us regular like 7-11 style slushies!!!!

My mother used to take us to KMart all the time and could only appease us with slushies. You know the ones. They weren't regular slushies. They were special slushies. Sort of solid. Almost like red and sugary snow. Then one day - they were gone!!! Replaced by regular 7-11 style slushies. Devastation. (The good news about this is that the KMart style slush has resurfaced at movie theaters worldwide in the form of the Arctic Blast or some other titled thicker slush that is like snow.)

In the town near my hometown, there was a restaurant called Rome Restaurant that had the most amazing french fries on the planet. It was an Italian restaurant but for some reason they had the world's best recipe for spicey fries. Hmmmm. Sister and I were addicted. We ate there fairly regularly - like at least once every two months. Then, one time, we went there and ordered french fries and they brought regular french fries to us!!! We were mortified! We asked what had happened to the other french fries and the waitress looked at us as though we were insane. If we'd known the last time we ate there was going to be our last time for those fries, we would have savored it.

The same thing happened with Friendly's. Spicey Spuds. Heaven. Then one day - gone! Tragedy. Sister called me on Sunday night and said "Leah - I am at Friendly's. You're never going to believe this. They have Spicey Spuds again!" "AWESOME! NO! YES!!! AHHHHHHH!" "See Boyfriend? I told you this was a big deal." And then she hung up.

And what happened to O'Boisies? I loved those!

And now my face is falling off because Noxzema Triple Clean Cleanser seems to have disappeared.

Do you have any similar sad stories about products disappearing?

It just isn't right when things cease to exist, and when you are not prepared.

It's so much better knowing when something happens for the last time.

Sniff. Woe is me. I am going to Duane Reade after work. Wish me luck, folks.

L. Lo

Lindsay Lohan is in a Robert Altman movie.

Right.

Wtf?

Sleep

I found a good burrito in Manhattan.

I have rescued my sheets, which were ironed and compressed into a package smaller than anything you can imagine.

Things feel lighter after the weekend.

Catharsis rules.

My air conditioner is on and I can't feel or hear NYC.

And so I will go to bed.

At 9:52 pm.

Fuck yeah.

Science and Comics

I love that comic books and science have been so intertwined historically. It is to be expected that superpowers result from something scientific - mutations in DNA, cosmic phenomena, insect bites etc. In addition, many characters in comic books are scientists. It is not uncharacteristic to see people in lab coats in comics.

We have been lucky enough to be given a ton of movies adapted from comic books in recent years. I've seen a lot of them. Not all, but enough to be peeved about the following:

Is it so freaking difficult to get a scientific consultant for these movies?

Seriously.

I'm not even talking about content. I'm talking about the infuriating way in which people articulate science-isms onscreen.

The content is annoying too, but really. Can't there be a scientist on the set to help actors learn to how to ACT LIKE A SCIENTIST?!?

I would do it for FREE. I imagine any scientist would! I'd wear a lab coat and safety glasses and gloves. This being said, I'm certain that these multimilliondollarscosting blockbusters might have a couple bucks to spare for me to spend a day on the set to help people be comfortable with science words.

I am up in arms because of Fantastic Four (which, incidentally, was only mostly terrible).

D and I snickered when Reed said "recombinant DNA" and when he made a machine that generated the exact opposite random mutation (s) that caused the Fantastic Four to have crazy powers, so that they could, again, be normal.

Right.

And who can forget Blade 3? Far worse.

The only science-related movie I have been super pleased with and even excited about was The Hulk. I didn't love the movie, but I loved the labs! They were super accurate. They even had Qiagen kits!!! I felt like I was the only one who was aware of the best cameo appearance in a film that has ever hit the screen! And, even better, someone in the movie had to excuse themselves because their timer went off! YES!!!! The only bad thing was that nobody really seemed to care when their labs and life's work were destroyed.

So yes. I will help for free. Seriously. I will do research and show actors how to convincingly hold a pipet and how not to stumble over the word "genome."

In related ranting, I am extremely jealous of Jessica Alba's hair.

That is all.

I Pity The Dolls

Yes, folks, that is the name of the show I went to see yesterday afternoon at the Orchard Street Art Gallery.

Jealousy replaced by the knowledge of the absurdity of my feelings and sympathy for those involved, armed with my new microscopic camera that Father got for a sweet deal, I journeyed downtown to check out the all Mr.-T-doll exhibit.

Bizarre and complete awesomenocity.

They showed "Be Somebody Or Be Somebody's Fool" on repeat.




Here is my Favorite Mr. T:


Me and Favorite Mr. T:






My Second Favorite Mr. T:




The guy in the white t-shirt is the guy who collected all the Mr. T's, and he is our hero:


And, course, Yoda T:

Damn You, Fitted Sheet!

The fitted sheet is even more challenging after you've been drinking lots.

I never thought the fitted sheet could be *more* of a pain in the ass.

Although I am coming to the realization that something is weird about my bed. No full sized sheets fit. I momentarily thought "Shit! Maybe my bed is queen sized!" but then the sheets really wouldn't fit at all. Right? And the bed itself probably wouldn't have fit in any of my apartments.

I had a minor laundry issue today - it was pouring on my way to drop of my sheets/towels at laundromat-of-choice. Consequently, the bag and its contents were soaked by the time I arrived. When I got there, I said to the woman behind the counter "How are you doing today?" She eyed me suspiciously and said "Fine, Leee-ah" and then smiled as though she had something to hide. "Oh, good," I said awkwardly. It looked as though she had something to say, so I said "Is everything ok?" She went on to explain that the laundromat will be closed for the next week for renovations.

"Oh," I said, standing confused with my heavy bag of wet laundry. "Huh." I had three options:

1. Bring the wet bag of laundry home and be late to work.
2. Bring the wet bag of laundry all the way to work and either
a) drop it off to be cleaned during the day or
b) bring it back home after letting it sit around wet all day or
3. Leave it at the laundromat and NOT have to carry it anywhere while it was heavy and wet.

I opted for 3, because I didn't feel like walking around in the rain anymore with a bag of soaked sheets and towels weighing me down.

I mention this because I picked up the sheets tonight and decided to drop them off at a laundromat on 39th street that turns out to be CHEAPER! And they're high tech and have everything in a computer system! Yes, it is out of my way, but it seems like a better option. I'll see how small a wad they fold the sheets into and will make my decision on whether or not to convert to the more upscale operation.

I just got back from a drama-filled night at Bench Buddy's - actually, first night of drama in NYC to date - complete with fighting on the street and tears shed at the party by yours truly! Also, I accidentally knocked a bottle of beer off of his 5th story roof onto the street. It wasn't mine. I didn't even know it was next to me. That could have been a bad scene. Nevertheless.... I am exhausted and drunk and got home and realized that there are no sheets on my bed. I had to choose between flannel or the yellow-t-shirt-guest-sheets for the bed for tonight, and for the love of GOD the yellow sheets don't fit the bed!!! It's not a particularly thick mattress. Maybe I have just randomly and coincidentally only bought lame/ill-fitting sheets. I don't know. But seriously. It should not be this difficult to make a bed. The sheet is on the corners but not on either of the long sides of the bed.

Oh well. It's only for one night.

I really want to sleep, but I have to wait.

Jealous

I hate that jealousy keeps me up at night.

Do insomniacs resent everyone who can sleep?

Or do you get used to things?

I forgot my address today. That's how tired I am. But I am not tired enough to fall asleep while jealous of other girls and while jealous of people who can sleep while other girls are causing all sorts of irrational angst.

If there wasn't someone sleeping obliviously in my apartment right now I would write a song about this.

OK.

It is now time for random reading of other people's blogger blogs.

I'll let you know if I find anything good.

I Know What You're Thinking

You're thinking "Leah Lar hasn't written anything about Snoop Dogg in ages! What's wrong? Is everything ok?"

So here you go.

And for more from Live 8, click here.

Bench Buddy and I were just discussing who got the most screwed, and I'm voting for Germany. Yes, they got Ah-Ha (yes, folks, watch Ah-Ha butcher their song and be amazed how 20 years have apparently not elapsed for the lead singer!) but they also had to listen to Chris DeBurgh, who you might remember from such mega hits as Lady In Red.

Wtf?

Bench Buddy thinks the U.S. got screwed, but I disagree. Def Lepard! Kaiser Chiefs! Stevie Wonder! Will Smith doing the theme song from Fresh Prince of Bel Air! And Maroon 5. And Rob Thomas. And freaking Black Eyed Peas. Right. I am changing my vote. We really did get screwed.

2012

London got the Olympics.

Paris must be pissed.

Just now I listened live and for a moment thought "Come on... come on New York..." even though I think having the Olympics here would be the worst thing ever. Well, it would be the worst thing ever if I am still here in 2012, which will most likely not be the case.

Oh well.

I am up early because I spent the entire night tossing and turning and wondering if I am too insecure to effectively date someone with a harem. I also kept thinking "I have no desire to go back to work" and then "Work is going to be so stressful"" and "Oh man, its going to be stressful science-wise and on top of that I have to see D at work tomorrow and have to hold it together" and "Dear god it is LOUD HERE and I can't sleep." Even ear plugs couldn't block the sounds of midtown traffic. It was also hot.

Blah.

Now its raining and I have to drop off laundry and mail rent and in better news deposit the $4020 that greeted me yesterday upon my return to NYC!

I am delirious. And insecure. And homesick. And confused. And exhausted. And don't have a headache anymore because I took three Excedrin Migraines yesterday so am nauseous instead.

It's great to be back.

Awshummmm.

In Desperate Need of Vacation from Vacation

Hey kids,

I'm back and just realized I forgot to pay my July rent.

That is so unlike me.

I realized, being back in Boston this past week, that I am generally unlike me in the present. Being in Boston made me realize that I am not myself.

New self? Different self? Better self? I am afraid it is, instead, wrong self.

I am very scattered these days. Prior to my leaving, work was frantic and I was experiencing feelings of dumbness and inability and stress. I had visitors for a week solid prior to leaving, which explains my failure to pay rent or really engage in any sort of normal activity that requires being at home, such as the paying of rent.

My "vacation" ended up causing me more stress.

I was thrilled to see so many people, catch up with old friends, and to remember the old self and miss it. I am stressed, though, because it seems that D is not enamored with Boston and this poses a challenge. I have been back in NYC for about two hours and already am fed up with the loudness of the traffic and my lack of expertise.

I mastered Boston and apparently that's something I value.

I am feeling a lot of things right now and I don't understand any of them.

I thought that I'd experienced and felt everything there was to feel, but I was wrong.

Anyway, because I am stressed and flustered and confused and, gasp, homesick, I will leave you with a vague synopsis of my vacation. Hopefully I'll have time to tell some stories, but with work being such as it is and with life being still frantic and with Argentina less than two weeks away, I will most likely not have time for anything.

Left on Tuesday - no traffic! Spent the night on Sister's futon after watching Curb Your Enthusiasm and drinking wine coolers.

Ate lunch with former coworkers on Wednesday after touring former coworkers' new facility. I left nearly in tears. I miss them. I miss the way I am with them. I miss having people take an interest in me and taking an interest in other people. I miss smiles in the workplace and quirkiness. I was gratified after shocking the subject of a My Mundane Life In Song song to the point where he fell off his chair when I said "Hi!" with atypical confidence. Hah. I love how time actually does heal wounds.

Had Indian food on Wednesday night with A and J after D and I hit the hot tub in the Hyatt. Met up with friends at Orleans afterwards and was surprised that people had come out to see me and not to get a look at D. Again, I forgot what it feels like to be noticed, to be considered, to be something more than an appendage. After Orleans went back to Hall Street and, again, nearly left in tears because love feels so nice.

D said "All of your friends love you so much," and I thought "We settle for so much less in New York."

Had lunch with Brother and Aunt J on Thursday afternoon in the North End and then took a trolley around the city to convince D that Boston rules! I'd never done this before and learned a lot. D, however, was not convinced.

On Thursday night Brother, D and I met up with LBF and her posse at the Courtside and I remembered how much I love locals, and how much less intimidating and therefore more fun karaoke is in Boston. We then went to see Sister's band play in PA's Lounge in Somerville. We only got minorly lost.

On Friday afternoon I went for lunch at Emma's with former former coworkers and nearly left in tears because I'd forgotten what community feels like.

We then saw an exhibit on emotion at the ICA and then headed up to NH. The moment my parents arrived to pick us up I was stressed, and this stress continued throughout the weekend.

Every decision requires four hours of discussion.

Every option is a catastrophe.

Every word has the potential to cause an explosion.

Did I mention I forgot to pay my rent?!? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? I hope I don't get evicted.

We spent time at the sandbar (got a raging sunburn), had a cookout, went to Funspot and were joined by LBF - woo hoo!, went to Meredith and Weirs Beach, had dinner at D's friend's house, saw War of the Worlds and Mr. and Mrs. Smith at the drive in, listened to Mother gush about how happy she is that there are now 8 of us instead of 5 as though rings have been exchanged and sometimes I am more worried about her heart breaking than my own.

Spent the 4th of July drinking Ice Bowls at Fire and Ice in Harvard Square and then watching American Psycho at Sister's instead of watching fireworks. This could be the start of a wonderful tradition.

Now I am back and am experiencing no relief/happiness about it. I don't know why.

Do I miss things?

I think I miss me.

I think I have no idea what I think.

Well, its at least good to be back on My Mundane Life in Song.

Here are some photos from my vacation! Enjoy.

Sexual Dimorphism

You'll all be happy to know that I am packed and ready to depart for my, gasp, week off.

I wish I felt more relaxed about the whole thing. Instead, I am uptight about not being at work and can't quite shake the feeling that my boss is mad at me for going away.

Regardless, I think I am ready to go.

With RR's assistance last evening, I packed rather quickly. She discouraged the hair straightener and fully supported tube tops, which I ended up not bringing.

I was glad that RR was there, because instead of having to stare at D blankly while stifling comments such as "HAVE YOU EVEN MET ME BEFORE?" I had RR to glare at him judgmentally and say things like "DUDE, HAVE YOU EVER MET HER BEFORE?"

D said "Let's all go for a walk."

I said "Awesome. You guys go for a walk while I pack."

"No, come for a walk."

"No, I just want to pack."

"Why don't you pack when we get back?"

"Because I want to pack now. Because it is going to take forever. And the whole time we are walking, I will be thinking 'I should be packing. I have to pack when I get back. I hate packing.' I just want to pack so it's done with."

"How long could it really take?"

"A LONG ASS TIME."

RR said "It's going to take a long time."

"Why?"

"Girls take a long time," I explained.

RR said "D, you just don't understand. This is how it is. We should start packing now."

D shrugged and said "Well, can I help too?"

"No" we said in unison.

"No, really, I want to help. I think I can help."

"No, you can't," RR said.

"Seriously. I'll tell you what you need. I'm just bringing one pair of shorts and flip flops for my vacation."

"You're bringing one pair of pants for the whole week?" I said. And then "Don't you want to wear something other than flip flops when you go out to the bar?"

"Why? Why would I want to wear something other than flip flops on my vacation?"

"Boston has dress codes," RR explained.

I said "Won't you feel weird being the only person in flip flops and shorts? What if it's cold?"

"It's not going to be," he said. D then said "All you need to do is pack your linen pants and a bunch of shorts."

RR and I recoiled in horror.

I said "Linen pants? WHO DO YOU THINK I AM? PEACHES?!?!?"

"You don't want to bring your linen pants?"

"LINEN PANTS?!" we yelled.

RR shot him the look of death and said "She doesn't have linen pants."

"You don't?"

"Dude, have you ever seen me wearing linen pants?"

"Well, no, but don't girls have linen pants? Well, then, just bring your shorts."

"SHORTS!?!?!" we yelled.

"What?" he said.

RR said "She doesn't have shorts."

"You have shorts," he said. "I've seen them."

"Yeah, but I never wear them. I hate shorts."

"Just pack them."

RR said "D, you don't understand. She doesn't wear shorts. She hates how her legs look. It's just how girls are."

After this exchange I began to pack. I was doing the mandatory throw-everything-you-own-on-your-bed prepack when D appeared. He said "Can I help?" as I looked through earrings. "Sure!" I said. "Should I bring these ones?" I asked.

He said "Don't bring any earrings."

"Yeah, I know, I don't want to bring a million of them, but I definitely want to bring a few," I said. "What about these?"

"Don't bring any. You'll lose them."

"What?"

"You'll lose them. You'll put them somewhere, you'll forget them, you'll lose them."

WHAT? Where was RR when I needed her?

"D, I never lose anything." Unlike certain people who lose things all the time and unlike certain non-compulsive-listmaking types and unlike Sister who once left her eyeglasses at my apartment after spending the night, I never lose things. Never! I was insulted that he would assume that I would lose earrings. "I'm not going to lose them," I said.

"You're going to lose them."

This is why boys should not help girls pack. I calmly explained my never-failed jewelry packing technique to D who responded by saying "Well, I still don't think you should bring them."

Men and women. Mars and Venus. Blah blah blah, specifically when it comes to packing and planning, which makes travelling together challenging.

I am bringing earrings, as well as a million other items that will guarantee that my boyfriend will find me cute while on vacation.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

OK, readers, I am off! I'll be gone for a week, and I will miss you terribly.

Au revoir!

Eternal Flame

Dear Readers,

I am exhausted.

I am exhausted because I have not been sleeping enough and have not been sleeping well and because I will not really get to sleep well or enough for another two weeks.

The weekend was good. The mood began with awkwardness and starvation, then dipped after towed car, was then redeemed by fondue!, delicious martinis, old friends, a craft fair, and The Pillowman,(marvelous!), and finally ended in D's cuteness being foiled by egg allergies, oppressive heat and not enough quality sleep.

I can barely keep my eyes open today.

Tonight I get to engage in one of my favorite activities - packing! I haven't had to pack for more than 4 days away in years. This is daunting. Seven full days of clothing compacted into one bag. Should be interesting. I have to find swimwear that is hiding somewhere in my new apartment. I have to remember things like chargers and flip flops and batteries and old eyeglasses to donate. I have made a billion lists - who I am meeting when and where, who I am supposed to call when, things for D to do while I am doing things with former coworkers, bus schedules, karoake address, methods to use while trying to prevent one's head from exploding.

Is it possible, folks, that I have not planned efficiently enough to allow for a burrito at Anna's?

RR, my dear wife, is cooking a vegetarian dinner tonight and said it will be ready when I get home. How precious!

After dinner I will spend 4 hours packing for the week. I hope RR is prepared for the insanity. I suppose she knows what she's in for since she witnessed my packing for ShittyNYCDateWeekend #1 with Certain Someone last summer. I tried on no fewer than 40 outfits. "If I wear this, it might suggest this..." "Hair - up or down?" "Half up?" "What about these earrings?" "Do my boobs look ok in this?" "Do you think he prefers purple or blue?" "But with this shirt I can wear these glasses..." "I agree that this is a better shirt but it makes me look fat."

There will be none of this tonight. It will be more like "Wait - will I actually wear this?" "What do people wear to the beach?" "How many bathing suits does one bring?" "Will I wear a tank tops or things with sleeves?" "Will I really need these shoes?" "What are the odds of my actually straightening my hair?" "Should I bring nail polish?" "I wish my camera was smaller!" "Why the fuck do I suck so hard at packing!??!?!" "I HATE THIS!" "What is the weather going to be like?" "Should I bring a hoodie? Two? An umbrella?" "What if I want to be sparkly at karaoke?" "Am I going to need these earrings?" "Should I bring all the glasses?"

Yeah. It's going to rock.

I will bid you all a fond farewell tomorrow, but until then, please have Manic Mondays.

With Love, Leah Lar