Token Emo Post for the Week

Roommate and I went out for drinks last night and she was making fun of Emo people. She knows I'm Emo, so it was all very lighthearted, but she was telling this story about how she was dating this Emo Dude who used his blog to communicate with her. He'd be like "Dude, check out this new photo on my blog" and then she'd go to it and there'd be no photo and instead an entry about what he wants in a relationship (when he was in a pseudo-relationship with her).

It didn't seem all that bizarre to me because I use my blog for similar emotional dispensing.

Hence, my emotional dispensation for the week.

After hitting Duane Reade after work yesterday and then eating a burrito on Bleeker Street that was FAR INFERIOR to the worst burrito I ever had at Anna's, I went home. Roommate was also home. We've been so lethargic and useless. Transition really beats you down.

We're sitting there, watching fuzzy CBS, when my phone rang. It was a call from a happy hour from my old place of employment. All my friends, all together, drinking free drinks, having fun. They meant well. They miss me.

I should have been happy to hear from them, but instead it was extremely depressing. It was actually one of the most depressing moments of my life, to tell you the truth. The first emotion I've felt in NY: sad. Totally, completely, 100% sad.

They were all having so much fun together. I couldn't figure out what I was feeling - like did I miss them? Was I confused as to how things are going on in my absence? I kept thinking "If I was there, I would not be having fun, because I'd be bored with the sameness of it all."

Then it occurred to me that it made me sad because I wasn't having fun. At all. Like I'm here and struggling just to exist. I haven't had time to do anything fun, and that just ain't right. So Roommate and I went out for a drink. At a bar that's three steps from our apartment, because we live in NY and everything is right there. And I had a $6 cosmo with fresh lime juice and got happy and told her Emo things about myself, such as just how sad a phone call can make you.

But yeah. I think talking to them made me feel really pathetic, and all of a sudden it hit me that I don't know anyone. Nobody. There are no social options at all. Which for me is basically the most scathing form of torture.

Right... the point of this post... holy digression....

Roommate gave me a fabulous pep talk during which she explained that it will take time, we'll find our group, and that it will be easy because everyone in NY is a transplant. Everyone here, for whatever reason, uprooted their entire life and is trying to rebuild it here. Everyone here understands what its like to be alone, and everyone will talk to you about it. I just have to be more outgoing. Right. Just talk to strangers. Ignore every introverted Bostonian instinct I have and talk to strangers.

And also get out there. I will go out 3/5 nights next week. Karaoke, live music, and a movie. Those are my tasks. Find three places. Be less Emo. Awesome.

Jimmy

There's this man who picks up the biohazard waste for my company. He is an old man whose name is the same name as a former president. He was raised in New York and then found his way elsewhere, but he can't live without this city.

I couldn't have written a character better for the screenplay of my life right now. He functions as both a therapist and a provider of sagely world wisdom.

He's adorable. He's a former jazz guitarist who's played with the greats. He's lived everywhere,
seen it all, been through it all. He said "My kids live down in Virginia. They want me to come and live with them, but I'm not done yet. I haven't done it all yet. I can't stand the quiet. If I don't hear ambulances, its not right."

Just now he said, "What's up for the weekend?"

This question made me sort of sad, because I don't know anyone yet so I don't really have any weekend plans. Aside from parents' visit. I told him that I was slightly nervous about this, since this will be the first time my parents have ever stayed with me. I said I was hoping not to disappoint them with my lack of furniture and lack of connectivity to the outside world. I said I was concerned that they would want to do things and that I don't even know how to get to Central Park yet.

He said:

"Do what you can do. The point is to show your folks 'Hey, I'm surviving on my own.' That's the whole thing. They won't understand how you can live this way, but they'll know you're doing it,
and that's what matters."

Yes, Jimmy, yes. I am making this work. I made this work and I'm making it work, and if we don't eat dinner in Little Italy, they will deal because they will be happy for me.

Bill Pullman

One of the main differences between Boston and NY is that if you see a guy who looks just like Bill Pullman on the streets of NY, it might very well be Bill Pullman!

I saw a guy this morning who looked just like Bill Pullman. Well, a haggard, real-life version of Bill Pullman. I was standing on the corner with him waiting to cross the street to my office. He looked very confused and then ran in the opposite direction towards a post office. He ran like Bill Pullman too. Maybe it was actually Bill Pullman. I almost said "You look very familiar" but figured that was lame. I should have just said "LoneStarr!"

Everyone Wants to Visit You When You Live in NY

Last night my roommate rollerskated in the apartment. It is so big and empty that she actually had the space to do some rad rollerskating maneuvers in there. It's one of those things I know I'll never forget - roommate rollerskating around to classical music while blowing bubbles at the cat. As she would say, "I heart New York."

Day 2 was ok. Met some folks who know people from my former company, which is comforting. There's something nice about complete strangers uttering the names of people you know. It makes you feel less isolated. Various people introduced themselves to me today. Perhaps they were confused by me yesterday. Now they know I actually work here and are no longer scared.

People are inviting themselves down to NY for visits. I am thrilled, but I am thinking about it and if all of these people come to visit, I'll literally be having visitors every weekend until Christmas, which is cool, but we don't even have a couch. A certain fertile friend of mine invited himself over for more than a week, but he said he'd be my personal assistant during that time period and would do Man Things such as hang pictures and carry a couch to our apartment, as well as Slave Things such as meet with cable guy and do laundry.

It is 5:30 and I am going to leave, because my new company has actual hours which go from 9:00 - 5:30, and people leave guilt-free at 5:30. How novel! Not that I'm doing any work yet - just office-paperwork-nonsense. Tomorrow I hit the bench and I am surprisingly excited.

And soon there will be music on the blog again. If all goes according to plan, I will be able to record a new song tomorrow night and get it up by the end of the week and that will make me feel a bit more normal as well.

First Days

Apparently I am a New Yorker.

Preliminary observations:

One should not go grocery shopping on a Sunday afternoon. I used to think the Star Market in Porter Square was insane on the weekend. Not so! I waited in line for 35 minutes yesterday at the supermarket around the corner from my apartment.

It's weird that this particular supermarket sells Grape Hawaiian Punch but not the regular kind. That's wrong on so many levels. Song coming soon....

The building in which my new company is located, like the building in which I live, has male models.

My current company requires a form to be filled out in order to receive office supplies.

Despite my not liking baseball, I was all offended today when the people in the lunchroom were discussing "the game" and making fun of the Red Sox.

This kid who was in orientation with me noticed the Kerry/Edwards button on my bag and said "Who put that there!? Please tell me it wasn't you!" I should have said, "Dude, I'm a socialist" but instead I said, "Dude, are you a republican?" to which he replied "I'm just me" and the conversation just died. I'm not in Kansas anymore! The best thing about this kid, though, is that he's in the safety department and graduated with a degree in History/PoliSci, which explains A LOT about various safety departments.

I can't function without Weather Phone. How will I find the New York equivalent of Weather Phone?

Every time I walk out of my building and see the Manhattan skyline I gasp. Every. Time. I can't believe I'm here.

We Got the Apartment!

I feel like Future Roommate and I are war buddies. We've only known each other for two weeks but I feel like we've been to Hell and Back together.

Yesterday morning we got left Boston at 4:30 am to go to NY to sign our lease. We actually signed the lease. We got the keys. It seems like its good. I am so suspicious of something going wrong after this entire process, but really, we have the keys and paperwork, so I think its ours!

I will be excited once the relief has warn off.

Renting an apartment in NY is harder than buying a home

I can't even begin to explain how stressful this has been. I should preface this by saying that it is all worth it. I am excited. I can't wait. I can't wait to get to NY just as much as I can't wait for the getting-to-NY process to be over.

Here's what has happened:

Future Roommate met with Future Landlord last week. His religious/cultural beliefs prevented him from being able to shake her hand, since she is a woman. He seemed to like her, so made a verbal agreement to meet with us the following Monday to sign the lease.

We spent the next five days faxing in paperwork, getting things notarized, dealing with family members, hunting down the realtor who was trying to hunt down the landlord to make a concrete appointment.

On Sunday night, we decided to take the train down as early as possible on Monday without having a concrete appointment with Future Landlord.

I woke up at 4:45 and was picked up by Future Roommate's friend, who kindly drove us to South Station. We got on the 6:30 train, and got into NY at about 11 am. The realtor called us and told us we could meet with Future Landlord between 10 am and 12pm. Perfect.

We got into NY and jumped on the train. The L, which is our way into Williamsburg, was under construction so we ended up hopping a cab from Union Square or somewhere. We got into Williamsburg and realized we had no idea how to drive to where we were going, but luckily because NY is a grid and makes sense, we found our place without a problem.

We went to the landlord's apartment and he prepped us for what was to occur. We had to just be agreeable, pleasant, only speak when spoken to. Fine. Whatever. I will do whatever it takes to have this apartment. I don't want to be homeless. It is worth it.

We entered Future Landlord's office and he was pleasant enough. He's a little eccentric, slightly abrasive but overall a decent fella with a soft side he most likely rarely shows. He seemed to like us.

Soon it became apparent that he hadn't looked over the 4 reams of paperwork we'd sent him. He's rifling through it, saying things like "Leah, you've had some delinquent credit issues." I'm like "WHAT?" I have perfect credit. He's like "Your card went missing." Right, the whole wallet-being-stolen-before-the-Red-Sox-game-fiasco.

He's asking weird questions about the origin of our last names, my religious beliefs (the Hebrew origin of my name was of much interest to him), her ethnic origin, cancer research, etc.

He said "Girls, I like you. I'd love you to live in my building, but I have some concerns. My concern is that you haven't started your new jobs yet. What if something happens? How will you pay the rent?"

We said "This is why we have guarantors."

He said "Your guarantors don't make enough money. I've rented units to students with no income as long as their parents make six figures."

Boiling.

"Do you know anyone else who could cosign?"

Future Roommate said she could ask her hated uncle to cosign, but there's nobody else I can ask. I don't know anyone who makes a lot of money. Nor should I have to, since I have a job. I have a job that will allow me to pay my rent. I have made myself, and I should not be given things based on whether or not I know someone who has money. That's ridiculous. I wanted to yell "Dude, wouldn't you rather have self-made people with integrity in your building rather than ingrateful students?" but I didn't.

I said "No, I don't."

This lease is month-to-month. This makes no sense. His concern is that should the lease become yearly, which it may, we might be unable to pay the rent. But couldn't we cross that bridge when we come to it? Couldn't we just see what happens?

It also makes no sense because I have money saved. The man was theoretically holding copies of three of my bank statements.

In an unprecedented aggressive and risky move which I hope will characterize my new New York self, I said "Sir, I really don't see what the problem is. As you can tell from my bank statements, I am clearly responsible with my finances and also have quite a bit of money saved, which means you aren't at risk." He said "Bank statements?" He didn't have them, but I did because I am anal and brought files! Yay! He looked at them and said "This is all yours?" I said "Yes." He nodded and said "OK. I have a question. You can say 'no,' but I'll throw it out there anyway. Would you be willing to put down four months security deposit on this place plus first month's rent to live here?"

"YES."

He said "I'll draw up the lease and come back on Thursday to sign it."

Man.

So difficult. It's my last full week in Boston and I have to go to NY again on Thursday. I have to get up at 4:30 am again on Thursday. I have to give this man insane amounts of money to live in his building. I have to indulge his power trip.

The beauty of this, however, is that I can indulge his power trip because I am independent and because I said something, even though he could have kicked us right out when I spoke up. I was concerned he'd be like "Aggressive female! She rubs me the wrong way and therefore cannot live in my building" but it seems like he actually respected it. If I hadn't spoken up, there would be no apartment. I got that apartment for myself and I am proud.

There still might be no apartment because you never know with this guy, but I am hoping hoping hoping there is.

I will keep you posted.

Word.

How To Find an Apartment in NYC

They said it would not be easy to find an apartment in NYC. I had no idea finding an apartment in NYC would be nothing like finding an apartment in Boston. Nothing. Different planets.

Rebecca and I headed down to the city this past weekend to look at places with my Future Roommate. We saw a total of three apartments – one was a 1 bedroom that could be converted into a small 2 bedroom (this is what they call a “convertible” apartment in NY lingo); one that had a shower in the kitchen and a bathroom that was basically a toilet and only a toilet (no windows, no sink) and didn’t really have two actual bedrooms; and one that was shaped like a donut. The realtor who was selling us the donut, Brian, had promised to show us three properties earlier in the week when I made the appointment, but when we showed up actually had nothing to show us. The donut was cool. It had potential. We threw down a security deposit on it and then thought better of it. I think we liked the idea of having a place more than the idea of this place in particular.

(Sidenote: Saw "Avenue Q" which was amazing - you should all see it - its like Sesame Street meets They Might Be Giants - relevant and brilliant!)

We headed back down yesterday by car to look at more places.

I woke up at 4:45 and met Future Roommate in Kendall Square at, gasp, 6 am. This means that I woke up FOUR HOURS EARLIER than I usually do. I was sick as a dog, and we were tired. We missed our exit off the Mass Pike, got back on, and then got on going the wrong way and therefore missed it again. We got into Williamsburg at around 11:30 and then headed into the city.

We were first met by Sam who was channeling Crispin Glover and who was wearing fabulous sunglasses with red lenses. He was ultra-cool, but was only able to show us a super-sterile place in the East Village. The apartment was AMAZING – glistening new, free utilities (including air conditioning!), gigantic, but more like a commune than a NY apartment with character. Later than day, Sam left me a voicemail apologizing for not showing us more places because we was dealing with "this pain in the ass who wanted a studio."

We were then blown off for our next appointment. Hmph.

Appointment Three was with Vic, a Russian who instantly fell in love with Future Roommate and who lied to us about only having first floor apartments when we told him we were sketched out by first floor apartments. He then called back and said, “Actually, I have an apartment on the second floor. And an apartment on the third floor. And an apartment on the fourth floor.”

Next was Sean, who we called spontaneously because Future Roommate liked his ads featuring Ninjas and seagulls. We met him at his apartment, where we were asked to remove our shoes so as not to damage the green-stained wood floor of his amazing loft. He showed us some raw loft space in Williamsburg that required walking up 75 million flights of stairs in 100 degree weather while I had a raging headache and massive congestion.

Then we met Brian again, who AGAIN really didn’t have anything to show us. We had tortured Brian the previous weekend so were quite amazed that he agreed to see us again. We think he has a love/hate thing with us. I really would have liked to have bought something from Brian just to prove we aren’t fickle, but whatever.

We then went back to Sean’s, where he showed us the view from the top of his building. We both sighed when we got up there. Exquisite. Hopefully he will invite us over so we can enjoy it in the future. This view was better than the view from atop Certain Someone’s apartment because you can see the water. Hmmmmmm.

He then took us to another loft space across from his, which houses male models and hopefully our future apartment!!!!! We both gasped when we walked into these lofts. They are AMAZING. I won’t go into it now so as not to jeopardize things.

We decided to talk things over before placing another hasty security deposit, so told Sean we’d talk about it over dinner. It was adorable because we were so excited about our new loft that we walked through the entirety of Williamsburg basically skipping and doing everything in our power not to do cartwheels and therefore walked by every restaurant. We finally ended up at a small Polish restaurant and decided to call Sean.

We had to go midtown to sign the paperwork. The three of us hopped the train and headed into the city. When we got there, Sean explained the following:

1. despite the fact that we are grownups we have to have a guarantor on our lease because we haven't started out new jobs yet

2. the guarantors have tomorrow and tomorrow only to get their paperwork together and have it notarized

3. our paperwork has to be in by tomorrow

4. we can't put a security deposit on it to take it off the market until we've met the landlord, so as far as we know, a bunch of other people could be meeting with the landlord tomorrow

5. we have to meet with the landlord tomorrow, godfather-style, to see if we are worth of living in his building

Not going to happen, because we don’t live in NY! And because there’s no way we can stay in NY the following day and start the paperwork rolling.

We decided that Future Roommate would stay and charm the landlord since she has more charisma than anyone you’ve ever met, and that I’d head back to Boston to get my share of the paperwork done and to feed my cells, because I still feel obligated to do work even though I only have a few days left.

While filling out the piles of paperwork, I checked the web.

No more Fung Wah buses until 11:30. Sketchy.

No more Peter Pan / Greyhound buses until the following day.

No more Amtrak until 3:30 am. Annoying.

I decided to fly. It was the only option. American Airlines had a 10:40 flight that put me in Boston at 11:30. Beautiful. I could take the T back and still get 7 hours of sleep before my dentist appointment. I left the office and realized I was right near the convention. Cops, people in camouflage, heavy artillery, and no cabs. None. No traffic. Just tons of republicans and armed people. Horrifying.

I walked for 20 blocks and finally caught a cab. I was delirious. I just wanted to die. I was so tired and so sick and so irritated about the whole notary thing. I took a cab to JFK that cost $45. I got to the American desk at about 9:15 and the 10:40 was FULL. I didn’t know what to do. I said “I am about to have a meltdown. I really don’t know what to do.” She said “You can take a Delta flight tomorrow at 6.” “Fine.” $230 later I had a ticket but nowhere to stay for the night since my cell phone wasn’t working so I couldn’t call Future Roommate or Certain Someone or anyone! $130 and a few tears later I had a distress room at the Radisson. Took the monorail to the convenience shuttle, the shuttle to the Radisson, got myself a courtesy toothbrush and passed out at about 10:30.

This morning I got up, again, at 4:30, jumped on a plane, got back to Somerville at about 7:45, went through piles of paperwork to find everything from W2s to bank statements to tax returns to offer letters to pay stubs, had plenty of time to get to the dentist but turned out my appointment was cancelled. Wtf?!??! So I went into work and I am still here and sick and tired and hoping Future Roommate’s meeting with the landlord went well.

If we don’t get this place I am seriously going to lose it.

Stress

Not much going on here other than complete and utter STRESS.

Trying to hold things together at work. I don't know how the world can expect me to function at work when I have so many other things to think about, and things that are far more important than my current job.

In other news, I have found a roommate! She too is relocating from Boston. I think this worked out so well because her mother, like mine, was praying to St. Anthony. Heh. She is very cool, likes karaoke, is a texture vegetarian, and has lots of kitchen stuff. I am thrilled. We will begin looking for apartments this weekend during the Republican Convention with the assistance of Rebecca.

In Sister News, my sister played her first show as the bassist for 8 mm Fuzz on Tuesday! The show was great. It was in Salem. It might has well have been on another planet. There were bikers and ladies with 80s hair dancing. All I have to say is Steve = Rock Starrrrrrr. Man. They were really good. Vick looked hot.

I'll write more when things are less chaotic. Now I must eat lunch.


8 mm Fuzz First Show Ever

Over My Head

So. I am taking a breath to update my blog. It's bizarre how you wake up one day thinking your life is a certain way, and then everything changes after checking your cell phone messages on your way back to work from therapy. So here's what's been going on:

I am moving to NYC pending a successful background check, which I think will be fine as long as they don't question my residence during the summer of 1998 when I was living in someone's dining room in the Fenway.

I am realizing that I am a planner, and the idea of moving to NYC without having a home is stopping me from sleeping. Worst case scenario I move to NYC, rent a room for a few weeks while I endure the stress/confusion of starting a new job, not knowing where I am, not knowing a soul, while I look at apartments every night while still paying rent in Boston to store my stuff. I am compulsively checking Craigslist, responded to 10 ads today and have heard back from none. I've planned a trip to NYC this weekend to look at apartments but don't know if I'll have anything to see. God. I am completetly freaking out and am trying not to have a total meltdown while I still work crazy hours, try to figure out how to break this to my grandparents, try to see everyone I know one last time before I leave, pack, logistics, strangers, the unknown, ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In other Craigslist news, I posted an ad for my broken digital camera and everyone wants to buy it from me. How lovely! If I sell that thing, it will fund half a week in a stranger's room in NYC!

Beth's last ever karaoke party was this weekend. I was nostalgic. It's truly the end of an era. People sang "New York, New York" to me and I felt weepy.

I saw Collateral this weekend. Please NEVER SEE IT. Tom Cruise needs to be stopped.

I also saw Garden State last week, which was ok. It was Graduate-like but not nearly as good. My review: overrated. Some interesting characters, but nothing spectacular. There was REALLY BAD KISSING involving Natalie Portman and that guy from Scrubs. I have had a thing against Natalie Portman ever since I saw her dancing at Aria in Boston when she was 19. The girl has no rhythm. None. I felt very sorry for her, but now that I know she has no rhythm, I have less respect for her. This could possibly explain the awkward kissing. She also has a very large head. She was great in The Professional, but mainly because she was little and its ok for little kids to have large heads.

I had fabulous crepes cooked by my dear friend Jamie this past week, and I kept thinking "Who will cook me crepes in New York?"

I started sort of packing - like braving the world under my bed for the first time since I moved to Somerville. I found all sorts of crazy things such as college photos, sheet music I forgot existed, and a scrapbook from my first job out of college. I looked through it and it made me cry. Not because I miss the people or the job or even that part of my life, but because I miss who I was then. I was reading the cards that they gave me when I left, and I was such a different person then. It was before I was jaded and bitter and broken. They appreciated me for all the things I wish I was still was. It could be just that I am older and therefore not the red-pant-wearing energetic psycho I was. Or it could be because I am no longer surrounded by people who appreciate my shoes. Someone described me as "effervescent." Nobody would say that now, because I don't allow myself to effervesce because I am scared to death of attracting something that will break me again. Plus my confidence has been destroyed so I am less likely to wear red pants even though I am dying to.

Also in this scrapbook was a card from The Sandwich Who Shall Not Be Named that he gave me on my last day at that job. He used words like "always" and "forever" and "I'll be there for
you" and "the best." Agony. I gave Beth the scrapbook but kept the Sandwich's card, because it might someday remind me why I left Boston.

There's so much more, but I have to pick up my dry cleaning because I am afraid that I will forget about it and it will be in Somerville for the rest of time!

Holy S*#%$@!!!!!!!!! I am moving to NYC!!!!!!

I am still waiting for the official confirmation, but I post this because I need your help!!!!

Does ANYONE know anyone in the NYC area who is looking for a roommate for 9/1?

Or...

Does anyone know anyone in NYC who might know someone who is looking for a roommate for 9/1?

My plan is to move 9/16, but I realize that most leases don't start on that date.

I am very excited but will remain super stressed until I have an apartment.

The Week In Review

It has been a while since I’ve written because things have been a bit on the bizarre side. I feel like I might be on the verge of a major life transition, and therefore should not be devoting massive amounts of time to the writing and recording of music. This is not to say that I am not working on a bunch of things. It’s just that they’re never going to be presentable to the world because I don’t have enough time to focus on them. If things go according to my master plan, I will be completely alone within two months time and will therefore have time to write and record all sorts of songs. Until then, dear readers, I shall provide brief updates in journal form. As if you care.

Some things that happened this past week:

1. Certain Someone broke up with ME. Yes, folks, he blamed ME for our inability to form a connection. I realize that this is all for the best, because liking him is not enough when I wasn’t sure I liked us. I agreed with most of what he said, but its still absurd. He wished he could date someone like me. He never did anything to deserve me. I am disappointed, because I’d have liked it to work out even though I knew it was most likely doomed. I am also disappointed that I was so taken aback that I failed to rage and to articulate the fact that it is HE who is frigid, challenging, self-absorbed, and impossible to connect with. HE is the one who has never been in love at age 31 and whose parents keep asking him what is wrong with him. Not me. I’m EASY. Tell me you like my shirt or offer me a glass of water at your apartment and I’m yours forever. There was a decent amount of crying (not in front of Certain Someone, though, since his android program on what tears are is probably defunct) and a slight alteration in eating habits. Oh well. I guess my main regret is that I've lost a friend, and it was good to hang out as friends. And I'd still like to know him, although my suspicion is that I will not. The timing of this sucked as I had to go to NYC the following afternoon for an interview with a Large-ish Biotech Company in Greenwich Village.

2. I had an interview at a Large-ish Biotech Company in NYC! It was awesome. I am not going to say anything beyond this as I refuse to be optimistic again. It was lovely because they paid for me to stay in a hotel and I felt very business-person-like. I also slept like a baby because there was air conditioning. They took me out to lunch. It’s in the Village. It’s, dare I say it, a good job!

3. There was no air conditioning at my company last week. No amount of Hulk popsicles can make me feel better about the fact that they expect us to work in a 90 degree building while wearing a lab coat and gloves!

4. My company had its summer outing, which was for people with families and sporty types. I was originally boycotting it as I am neither a family nor sporty type, but I started getting nostalgic after returning from New York and thought to myself “I should spend time with these people because who knows for long I will know them!” As Val, I received a lovely beach chair with the company name on it (how cool will I be next year on the beach?) and soon realized that boycotting would have been the right thing to do. There was, however, a fabulous jump-in-the-balloon-castle-thing for children, which the adults took over for a bit of time. Jumping in that thing was the most fun I’ve had in a really long time – instantaneously I was 5 years old and felt like all of my coworkers were my best friends. I also received a temporary tattoo that I have fallen in love with. It is an elk (hideous) and it’s above my waist on the right and I am attached. I am thinking that I might get a real one, but what would it be? And as far as I know, no porno starring yours truly was being filmed at the outing this year.

5. Saw “Open Water.” A poorly made movie that assured me that I too can make a movie! Bad acting, bad cinematography, fairly lame dialogue. In spite of all this, it was awesome. It was awesome because I could barely breathe while watching it. Throughout the entire film you’re thinking “What would I do?” “This is the worst thing ever.” “This is so much worse than being stranded in the desert.” “Are the sharks worse than being alone in the ocean and being unable to go anywhere?” “This is utterly terrible.” “Those poor people.” We went for drinks afterwards because we needed to decompress. After we dealt with the movie I soliloquized in fabulous self-pity style about the world’s injustices. Darn sour apple martini made me crazy. That night I dreamt that I was in a ping pong tournament. Weird.

6. Yesterday my sister and I went to visit with my parents in Medway. We went to an open house in Franklin with them to see a really overpriced house that I can only ever dream of owning that my parents think is too small. They will never move. My sister wanted to go to IKEA to buy a platform bed for her new apartment, so we went on a road trip to the newly opened IKEA store in New Haven, CT. It was a zoo. Apparently they are getting traffic of over 20,000 people per day. We bought nothing. It was overwhelming and I feel like I might be a bit too old for IKEA, which is heartbreaking because how can I be too old for IKEA?!?!? I did find a very cool ceiling lamp, but it stressed me out because I don’t know how to hang things from the ceiling.

7. Took the commuter rail to work this morning (I can’t believe people do this every day) and the conductor (well, not the conductor but the guy who collects your money and I’m not sure if he’s called the conductor or something else) looked just like Eminem.

My Brother Has Left the Northeast

This weekend was my brother's last weekend in MA. Armed with 9 chicken salad sandwiches and more patience than any non-member of my family can imagine, he is currently driving back to the midwest (Edwardsville, IL, to be exact) with Sal. They will most likely be arriving there tomorrow. Our good-bye activities included:

1. Fabulous family dinner with just the five of us last night - I can't remember the last time just the five of us sat down for a home-cooked meal. Nostalgia is so tasty. It's sad, though, to see my parents empty-nesting. My brother, despite being extremely busy, managed to find time this past week to video tape some 8 mm film my mother's father had dating back to 1962. He set it to music. The most adorable thing is that my mother looked like an adult even at age 10.

2. Fabulous outing to Red Line on Saturday night. I organized a micro-posse of my friends to go out to Red Line in Harvard Square (which reminds me that I have to publish an old song about Red Line from about a month ago - will try to get that up tomorrow!), which has the best DJ ever on Saturday nights. He will play whatever you want, including deep hip hop cuts from the underground. Very cool. We had a great time dancing like idiots. I was trashed from 1.5 chocolate martinis, both which I spilled.

3. Fabulous field trip to the Museum of Science on Wednesday. I took, gasp, an actual vacation day and we checked out the Lord of the Rings Exhibit. The only bad thing was that I basically knew everything from watching 47 million hours of bonus behind-the-scences WETA workshop footage on the DVDs. It was still cool to see The Ring, hold a replica of Aragorn's sword, and get our photos taken in forced perspective (see below).

Listening to Clinton Is Like Sleeping With Your Ex

Genre: Cute Short Song
Date: 7.26.04



Description:

I think the title says it all. The original song had a bunch of policy-type issues in it, but I realized that all I was really trying to say was that listening to Clinton speak at the DNC made me the perfect combination of nostalgic and unnecessarily hopeful that I became delusional.

Lyrics:

I'm proposing that we revamp the US constitution
So we can reelect Bill Clinton

Listening to Clinton is like sleeping with your ex
Who you miss and who you love, with whom you fucked things up
It fixes things in the immediate
Things seem FINE when Clinton speaks
Sadly in two weeks reality sets in
You'll be reminded who you're now in bed with
And we'll all be depressed again

I'm proposing that we revamp the US consitution
So we can reelect Bill Clinton
And if you won't listen to me then
Hopefully we'll get Hillary

Climb

Genre: Emo Piano
Date: 7.30.04



Description:

This is an actual song. With verses, chorus, and even a bridge-type thing! It’s not a bridge as much as it is bookends, because it’s at the beginning and end of the song. I really like this song. It’s melancholy at first, but you should give it a try.

Nevertheless….

I went to Certain Someone’s apartment in the East Village following the three interviews this past week. He has a fabulous rooftop. I declared late in the evening that I intended to go up to the rooftop, which meant that I was going up to the rooftop alone. Not that I wanted to be alone. Certain Someone is just oblivious. I looked over the city, and began to allow the disappointment of the interviews to sink in.

He eventually appeared on the rooftop and then promptly disappeared around a corner. Certain Someone is very independent and is prone to disappearing at times unannounced and to even forgetting that I am there. You can imagine my surprise when he said “Leah!” I followed his voice and found him climbing a ladder to an even higher point on the rooftop.

I joined him. Breathtaking. There was nothing above us. We were above everything – the people, the city, the other rooftops, the world. It’s not like when you’re lying in a field and you look up and get lost in the sky and stars because there are no trees in your way. It’s like that, except you are lying on concrete and you don’t get lost in the sky, because the sky doesn’t look like the sky. You can’t tell what it is. You can barely see stars, and there is smoke and colors and depth and confusion. It’s amazing.

Up there, I really did get lost. It made me so happy and so sad. It was soothing, because up there I thought “This makes me happy.” Uncompromisingly happy. There is no question in mind that this is what I want. And then so upsetting, because the full reality of that not happening any time in the near future hit me. “This makes me happy, but I cannot have this.”

The disappointment made me want to cry. Or laugh. Or jump. Or jump on him. I did none of these things. I didn’t want to be Dramatic, Melancholy, or Vulnerable. Instead, as always, I opted for Aloof. I desperately wanted him to say “Are you ok?” Then I could say “Actually, no, I’m not.” And then maybe he’d give me a hug or smile or say something like “It will work out.” But he never asks.

Lyrics:

Its so much more lonely when you feel lonely
When you’re with someone else
Than if you feel lonely when you’re just lonely

I’ll never forget what this looks like
A rooftop, the summer, you and me above the world
I’ve never seen this before
Unobstructed
There’s nothing in the way
We’re so close to the stars
But I can’t tell that that’s what they are
We could be underwater
We could be in another galaxy
We could be looking down

I’ve climbed to nowhere
I climbed to get here
I’ll never forget what this feels like
You take another sip
You don’t offer a kiss
I say nothing
I always say nothing
I can’t tell if I’m flying or drowning
I want this to be mine too
I want to explain this to you
I want you to know all these things without my having to say them

A breeze, you tease
You give this to me
You can’t follow through
Thank you
Thanks for reminding me
I’m afraid to climb down
I don’t want to go back to the ground
Let’s just stay here
Let’s be here
I’m trying
The moon is nearly full
And I’m hollow
I’m trying
Things these days aren’t surprising
I’m climbing
But I always fall back to the ground

Interviews

Another weekend in NYC. This time I was there because I had not one, not two, but THREE job interviews. Because I had THREE job interviews, I allowed myself, for the first time in my entire life, to put aside my usual cynicism about the world and skepticism about anything in my own life working out. I started looking for apartments in Williamsburg. I started looking into how costly it would be to move a piano from Boston to New York. I started looking into audio production classes at NYU that begin in October.

And then, not one, not two, but THREE potential jobs sucked beyond all comprehension.

Job 1 - working in a windowless lab studying HIV with the best looking man I've ever met who happens to be only a few years older than me and who doesn't seem to care all that much about science or my credentials; surrounded by miserable people who are afraid of their PI who is a freaky eccentric mad scientist (song coming soon) with shifty eyes and greasy hair who is condescending and called me "naive" and said they'd make me an offer that wouldn't be what I wanted but wouldn't be "insulting" either while he put his feet on his desk

Job 2 - working in a cancer vaccine lab with great people, AWESOME science, and most animated and inspiring PI of all time; the job, unfortunately, is not only the most boring thing ever but also has mad stress associated with it - basically making cancer vaccines for patients which involves tissue culture 100% of the time - au revoir bench science and hello to being paranoid about not being entirely sterile - as if BL2+ wasn't annoying enough!; working with a bunch of women who don't understand molecular biology - my lamenting not having any mini preps or ELISAs or westerns to do would most certainly fall upon deaf ears

Job 3 - working in prostate cancer lab studying something or other under a PI who has No. Social. Skills. - the man can't make eye contact, can't really explain what he is doing or what was really going on in his lab; I met with some random kids in the lab and they were all miserable and inarticulate and antisocial and science-hating; the kid who I'd be replacing is also a FREAK and going to dental school and started showing me where all of his stuff is as if I'd already accepted the job - he showed me cells and gels and various things I didn't care about because the PI is the biggest freak ever (like child molester freaky); and again, no windows, no people, no potential

This is extraordinarily depressing. I don't recommend having three job interviews within 24 hours, especially when they're all dead ends. I don't really know what to do. I know I want to move. I had a fabulous time running around the city, being lost in the city, being alone in the city. It is amazing to me how used to NY I got. Returning to Boston just seemed unnatural. I walked into my bedroom and it was unfamiliar. What I don't know is at what cost I will move. Is it worth it to be in NY with a job I know I'll detest in order to not be here?

DNC

The DNC is here!!!  I am working on many songs.

A couple preliminary observations:
1. it seems, at least as of right now, that Boston overreacted - I haven't been searched, I haven't seen anything out of the ordinary, everything is pretty much the same, at least for me, as it was pre-convention *
2. confining "free speech" to a zone negates the whole "free" part of free speech
3. Hillary (in canary) rules
4. Bill Clinton, the best speaker ever, makes me nostalgic - the song I am working on right now is about how I wish we could just re-elect Bill
5. GIDEON YAGO is in town!!!!! 

* To steal a story from my sister, though - she's on the orange line the other day carrying her bass in a case, and a policeman comes up to her, looks at her, looks at the case, and says "I'm sure there's just a guitar in there."  Well done, policeman!

Start Spreadin The News

Alternate Title: Glial Cell Pornographers
Genre: Piano Melodrama
Date: 7.24.04



Description:

I went to a party on Saturday night.  It was ok.  The scene was tough on a single heterosexual city girl because probably 75% of the male demographic there was gay.   In the cases where straight-ness was obvious, I obviously wasn’t interested.   Straight boys don’t have a chance in this sort of environment.  

I was moody all night because I am potentially on the verge of a huge transition and I don’t know what I should be doing with myself.    I wasn’t up for mingling, so Spider and I kept to ourselves and rehashed our usual diatribe about how people at parties aren’t creative and how we can’t find other people like us.

Other than that, the main conversation was how Spider hates his name and how he thinks it would be cool if when you hit a certain age you were legally obliged to change your name to reflect your grown-up personality.  We spent about an hour and a half trying to come up with a new name for him - it was tough, though.  Mitch?  Jay?  Rufus?

When it came to re-naming me, I proposed “Bella” or “Cynicalia” or “Snobbinia.”  Spider suggested “Bitchy Face” and then said “Val.”  I was thrilled by this due to its Tiffany-Amber-Thiessen-ness but also just because I like the name and think I am convincing as a Val.  He said “But not Valerie.  Valkyrie.”  Yes.  Yes yes yes.  This is great for many reasons, the most important of which is that I would have theme music.  And its origin suggests very cool parents.  And its bad ass.  And subtle, because I can just be “Val.”   Yes yes yes.   I am seriously considering just being “Val” if/when I move.

We also discussed my potentially changing my entire life soon, and how I romantically hope that NY will make me more often manic.  This song is basically what Spider said in response to that.    

Lyrics:

Spider said “New York is the end of the line.”

“If New York sucks you might as well kill yourself.”

I’m afraid he’s right
If I can’t be happy there I can’t be happy anywhere

Spider said “New York is the end.”

Whoa...

I've just notified people about this blog.  Now I am paranoid.  This is how I felt when people heard "Plumb Forgot."  It was cool, yes, but I felt like someone was reading my diary.  (well, at least at the time most people gave me a $5 donation to read my diary)  I guess songs about "I, Robot" aren't as traumatic as songs about having your heart walked all over by an evil, terrible, insensitive, narcissistic bastard (s), but still.  I wonder if anyone will listen to these.  We'll see.   Hopefully My Mundane Life In Song will become a global phenomenon.