- Woke up early in order to swim and go in the hot tub, but the weather was non-cooperative.
- Watched D devour all manner of pastries and chocolate muffins and juices and other continental breakfast items while suppressing overwhelming desire to cry and feel sorry for myself. I know it's not his fault. He can eat whatever he wants. But it is not easy, when starving, to watch someone (and everyone, really) consume consume consume without thought while you aren't able to eat anything. I wanted to leave, but instead sat quietly with him, not eating, while staring at the chocolate chip muffin. I don't think there's a way for him to be sensitive about this, and no, he should not have to suffer with me, but dear god this is not easy. It is easier now, though, after he offered later to come with me to the dietician in case I forget to ask certain questions and in case there is too much information for me to remember. It blows my mind when he is not completely oblvious, and I feel spoiled again.
- Almost threw a fit when we exited breakfast and the sun was shining, and there were 4 zillion kids swimming in the hot tub and all of the poolside chairs were taken by chatty tourists. D pressured me to swim, but I was all "Listen, I am so uptight right now and starving and just want out of this lame town with nothing to do so no I don't really want to go in the hot tub with screaming children and chatty tourists right now but you should." He did, and I bubble bathed again with my book until I almost passed out.
- Went to the Mass MoCA which was full of inaccessible art but at least it was something.
- Ate lunch at the Mass MoCA restaurant where I ate cheese and avocado and mistakenly drank a Guavatini and was drunk or recovering for the next few hours, craving carbs, and allowing myself a peanut butter cookie that helped for about 30 minutes and then ruined things for the rest of the day.
- Took scenic route to New Haven and how cute is old MA but there has to be a happy medium. I think real college towns are the happy medium. Ah, Northampton.
- Took train back from New Haven after D endured insane ordeal dropping off the car, but that's his story. Slept for most of the train ride after finishing Max Tivoli in tears.
- Put cheese on bread and ate it for dinner as there was no food and no motivation to procure it. Went to bed at 10:30, stretched out on the bed as though it was king sized. How quickly we get used to things. Woke up at around 4:00, sweating, consulted my clock and sighed when I saw that it was 82 degrees in the bedroom.
- Dreamt of putting together some party/meeting with hostile attendants.
- Woke feeling actually rested but not exactly relaxed. Ugh. No concrete vacation to look forward to. Rumors of Spain/England but I'll be amazed if the two of us pull this off. I hate being an uptight New Yorker who requires escape to unwind. I wonder if I'd have been so uptight in western MA had I gone there two years ago as a Bostonian. I feel like NYC has made me rather quick to experience moods and quick to resent anything that gets in the way of my being a serene individual. Would I have swum with a zillion tourists a few years ago? Yes, because swimming is swimming. Now nothing involving people has value, because my vacation was to get away from people. My vacation was to experience quiet. My vacation was to experience ease, something that was taken away by early-closing restaurants and teenagers abandoning little kids. Things were still a struggle on my vacation, and this is why I am still not relaxed.
- Looking forward to Labor Day.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Long Weekend Too Short - Part III
- Awoke and headed to Mt. Greylock, the highest point in MA. Gorgeous. Serene. Too many people.
- Ate Indian food with tofu! Yes!
- Bought a Father's Day card even though I suck and don't know when Father's Day is.
- Went on a small hike to a waterfall but we didn't make it to the waterfall because there was a 5-year-old-kid by himself. I said "I'm worried about that kid," and followed him, although I wasn't too enthused about wading through a river with my camera anyway. It turned out that the 5-year-old was with his teenaged brother and his stupid friends, who just lost track of him. Dear god I almost lost my mind. Luckily there was a mother on the trail with her many kids and she ripped the kid a new one. Phew. I gave them dirty looks though, and asked D, who has weird ideas regarding non-discipline, if he would consider disciplining his child if his child ever thought such a thing acceptable.
- Headed back to the hotel where we didn't go in the hot tub because the hot tub was closed! Bastards!
- Decided, then, to go to an earlier showing of X-Men 3 after dinner. But oh! How do you get dinner on a Sunday in a sleep town? You don't! Because everything is closed! BASTARDS!!! We ended up being forced to eat at the Holiday Inn restaurant, which wasn't completely terrible but where they only have carbs on the menu. I got a grilled cheese that was spicey. Right.
- Saw X-Men 3, at a theater where people were instead seeing things like Poseidon and The DaVinci Code. I've decided that they were all seeing those other movies because they all saw X-Men the night it opened since clearly there is nothing else to do. Enjoyed the movie despite the absurd science, gratuitous mutants, lame dialogue, and nonsensical occurances.
- Ran into the stupid kids from the trail as we left the theater! The kept staring at us and possibly antagonizing us. We didn't know why. They kept saying things like "Oh, I love you" and "Oh, you're so beautiful" and just staring at us. D said "Were those kids antagonizing us?" "Yes." "Why?" "I have no idea. Maybe they picked up on the vibes that I wanted to kill them on the trail." "I don't think so. They didn't seem mad at us." "Maybe they recognize us as not-from-around-here and are intrigued and have crushes on us. Because we're thin. And different." "Yes, I think that's it," he said, in all seriousness. I felt old and uptight and wanted to leave for NYC immediately.
- I also felt awful from the sandwich and said "Do you mind if we stop by the supermarket to get something to eat?" Silly me, because it was CLOSED. And so was everything else. We drove all the way back to the theater to stop by a gas station, where I bought nuts which didn't help because it was a lost cause by that point.
- Went back to the hotel, put on bathing suit and robe again, only to find that the hot tub was closed, STILL.
- Ate Indian food with tofu! Yes!
- Bought a Father's Day card even though I suck and don't know when Father's Day is.
- Went on a small hike to a waterfall but we didn't make it to the waterfall because there was a 5-year-old-kid by himself. I said "I'm worried about that kid," and followed him, although I wasn't too enthused about wading through a river with my camera anyway. It turned out that the 5-year-old was with his teenaged brother and his stupid friends, who just lost track of him. Dear god I almost lost my mind. Luckily there was a mother on the trail with her many kids and she ripped the kid a new one. Phew. I gave them dirty looks though, and asked D, who has weird ideas regarding non-discipline, if he would consider disciplining his child if his child ever thought such a thing acceptable.
- Headed back to the hotel where we didn't go in the hot tub because the hot tub was closed! Bastards!
- Decided, then, to go to an earlier showing of X-Men 3 after dinner. But oh! How do you get dinner on a Sunday in a sleep town? You don't! Because everything is closed! BASTARDS!!! We ended up being forced to eat at the Holiday Inn restaurant, which wasn't completely terrible but where they only have carbs on the menu. I got a grilled cheese that was spicey. Right.
- Saw X-Men 3, at a theater where people were instead seeing things like Poseidon and The DaVinci Code. I've decided that they were all seeing those other movies because they all saw X-Men the night it opened since clearly there is nothing else to do. Enjoyed the movie despite the absurd science, gratuitous mutants, lame dialogue, and nonsensical occurances.
- Ran into the stupid kids from the trail as we left the theater! The kept staring at us and possibly antagonizing us. We didn't know why. They kept saying things like "Oh, I love you" and "Oh, you're so beautiful" and just staring at us. D said "Were those kids antagonizing us?" "Yes." "Why?" "I have no idea. Maybe they picked up on the vibes that I wanted to kill them on the trail." "I don't think so. They didn't seem mad at us." "Maybe they recognize us as not-from-around-here and are intrigued and have crushes on us. Because we're thin. And different." "Yes, I think that's it," he said, in all seriousness. I felt old and uptight and wanted to leave for NYC immediately.
- I also felt awful from the sandwich and said "Do you mind if we stop by the supermarket to get something to eat?" Silly me, because it was CLOSED. And so was everything else. We drove all the way back to the theater to stop by a gas station, where I bought nuts which didn't help because it was a lost cause by that point.
- Went back to the hotel, put on bathing suit and robe again, only to find that the hot tub was closed, STILL.
Long Weekend Too Short - Part II
- Woke up and tried to arrange accupuncture for my ailing boyfriend, massage for our stressed out backs, some manner of waxing but came up empty as we did not plan ahead.
- Decided instead to head to a recommended diner that claimed to serve brunch but did not. Luckily they had a breakfast burrito that was available all day, but only by request and only noncommittally, as in "I'll have to check with the cook..." as though scrambled eggs are impossible to concoct at 1:00 pm.
- Stopped by a weird manufacturing plant of some sort that enticed us on our way to the diner but had to turn around as it was "private property."
- Engaged in a hilarious game of mini golf where I, for the first time in my life, was slightly better than D at something. He schools me at all manner of everything, from music to art to life in general but when he said "I suck at mini golf" he apparently meant it, because I suck at mini golf but still beat him by a substantial margin even after having hit my ball straight off the course. Bizarrely a girl at another hole managed to get an accidental hole in one on our hole. We shared a laugh. We had much fun.
- Stopped by an ice cream stand and ordered smalls (cheating, yes, but I was on vacation!) that were completely insurmountable. We had to throw away about 2/3 of the ice cream in order to get to our coveted cones. This solved the "Why is everyone here so obese?" mystery that had been plaguing us all day.
- Headed into Williamstown to go to The Williams Art Museum, which was utterly lovely and perfectly sized.
- Blazed back to the hotel because D wanted to floss.
- Headed into Northampton (unchanged, thank god, because I couldn't have taken it had it been altered!) and determined, again, that we want to live there but what on earth will we do for jobs?! Headed to Turn It Up, which D deemd "a bad record store," and then met up with M, A, and H for dinner at Spaghetti Freddy's, where there was mysteriously no wait and where the breadsticks remain miraculous. Seriously. Yes, the entire contents of my dinner were dietarily unacceptable but vacation! I suffered for it, but it was worth it.
- Back at the hotel we passed out after attempting, again, to watch Clive Owen.
- Decided instead to head to a recommended diner that claimed to serve brunch but did not. Luckily they had a breakfast burrito that was available all day, but only by request and only noncommittally, as in "I'll have to check with the cook..." as though scrambled eggs are impossible to concoct at 1:00 pm.
- Stopped by a weird manufacturing plant of some sort that enticed us on our way to the diner but had to turn around as it was "private property."
- Engaged in a hilarious game of mini golf where I, for the first time in my life, was slightly better than D at something. He schools me at all manner of everything, from music to art to life in general but when he said "I suck at mini golf" he apparently meant it, because I suck at mini golf but still beat him by a substantial margin even after having hit my ball straight off the course. Bizarrely a girl at another hole managed to get an accidental hole in one on our hole. We shared a laugh. We had much fun.
- Stopped by an ice cream stand and ordered smalls (cheating, yes, but I was on vacation!) that were completely insurmountable. We had to throw away about 2/3 of the ice cream in order to get to our coveted cones. This solved the "Why is everyone here so obese?" mystery that had been plaguing us all day.
- Headed into Williamstown to go to The Williams Art Museum, which was utterly lovely and perfectly sized.
- Blazed back to the hotel because D wanted to floss.
- Headed into Northampton (unchanged, thank god, because I couldn't have taken it had it been altered!) and determined, again, that we want to live there but what on earth will we do for jobs?! Headed to Turn It Up, which D deemd "a bad record store," and then met up with M, A, and H for dinner at Spaghetti Freddy's, where there was mysteriously no wait and where the breadsticks remain miraculous. Seriously. Yes, the entire contents of my dinner were dietarily unacceptable but vacation! I suffered for it, but it was worth it.
- Back at the hotel we passed out after attempting, again, to watch Clive Owen.
Long Weekend Too Short - Part I
Yes, it was too short. Far too short. I am not relaxed. There was not enough time. There is never enough time.
Although I bet there would be enough time if one lived in western MA where everything closes at 8 pm.
Vacation in review (photos forthcoming):
- Woke up too early on Friday in order to get train from Grand Central to New Haven. On the way out the door D accidentally clocked me in the face with his extremely heavy duffel bag. We took a cab to Grand Central because I am slow when carrying a bag that weighs 1/3 of my body. D walked ahead of me through Grand Central without noticing that I was lagging behind due to my heavy bag. It felt as though I was being dragged around. I finished reading The Voice on the train and started reading The Confessions of Max Tivoli, and oh! the guilty pleasure of a romance novel disguised as serious fiction.
- We picked up the car in New Haven and I decided that I don't want to live there. We stopped at a Mexican restaurant where I made my own burrito and became less bitchy after finally eating something. D suggested that we go to Amherst because he wants to know everything about me. I consented to the detour because it meant a lot to him, and because he said "But you said the best cookies ever are at UMass!" "Yes, I did," I said, "but I can't eat cookies anymore." "Not even the best cookies ever?" "Yes, you're right," I said, and we headed in the direction of Amherst. I hadn't counted onrevisiting a place I lived for four years not feeling at all like vacation.
- We drove through Hadley and I was mortified. Media Play is gone. Everything is gone, replaced by chains and big business and freaking Target and Best Buy and other businesses that have no business being in Hadley. The movie theater has changed. D said "It's because college students have more money now." "Fuckers," I said. We parked near Hasbrouke because it was raining. Lots. We ran around the construction surrounding the campus center and I practically skipped into The Blue Wall, where I was mortified to find that the bakery is gone! GONE! Entirely! "Maybe they're at The Hatch now?" I said. I ran through the arcade in The Student Union and The Hatch was closed! NOOOO!!!! I stopped at the table that was distributing caps and gowns and said "Look, this is a weird question, but anyway, I went here a million years ago and The Blue Wall had the best chocolate chip cookies in the world and... do you know if I can get them somewhere else? Like did they move the bakery?" She said they were still available, wrapped individually, in The Blue Wall deli section. Yes! We ran back and no, there weren't any. NOOOO!!!!
- D wanted to go into town to check out some bike shop after we drove by Orchard Hill. I was surprised to see D overwhelmed by something. "It's so big..." he said, losing his sense of direction. I stood out in the rain staring at Amherst while he stared at bikes. We went to Mystery Train together. D went to Food For Thought and whatever that other record store was next door. While he spent too much money on used CDs, I spent too much money on clothes at Zanna. I finally bought a pair of shorts (I haven't bought shorts in like 7 years - nobody looks good in shorts! nobody!). I chatted with the ladies behind the desk about my nostalgia for the town. "I'm happy you're still here," I said. "Everything is changing."
- D wanted food so we went to Antonio's but he was too overwhelmed, again. "Let's go to Amber Waves," I suggested. It was gone. I think I knew that, but I was hopeful. We ended up at some new Thai place that had decent enough noodles and what D claimed was the best Thai iced tea he had ever had. We went to Newbury Comics and then got back on the road.
- We got to the hotel at around 8:30. They had DVD's available, including a DVD of a fireplace. Heh. It seemed decent enough. The room was fabulous, the bathroom bigger than my former apartment, complete with tub and gigantic shower stall with verticle gigantic shower head. Delicious.
- Things took a turn for the worse when we learned that restaurants in the area stop seating at 9:00. I was starving, of course. They had given us chocolates but needless to say I couldn't eat those. D said "I'll go to the grocery store. What do you want?" "I don't know!" I said, "I can't eat anything anymore!" We went back and forth for about half an hour and finally I said "Why don't you just go and get something for yourself?" He did.
- I spent the next half an hour crying and feeling bad for myself, until I sat in the bathtub where I cried all of the hunger and craving out before D's return.
- D returned with a sub from Subway. "The supermarket, and everything else, is closed," he said. "Do you want me to get you a sub?" "No," I said, "Because I don't want to eat at a chain on vacation." He ate his sub while I read more of my guilty pleasure, trying not to focus on the food I wasn't eating.
- I was exhausted but couldn't sleep, because I kept thinking of the last one and how he'd searched the entire planet for calcium-less multivitamins and turned up one day with chewable gummy children's vitamins saying "You have to take these because I want you to be healthy and not have any kidney stones" and how I gave him such a big hug and how ridiculously spoiled I was before this and how in the past the bathtub was something very, very, very exciting and how I felt very pretty and very important. I snuck out into the rain and ended up reading in the lobby cottage until around 3:30 am, when D appeared and said he was "worried" and wanted to know what was going on and when I started to tell him he seemed disinterested. I consented to going back to bed if and only if we could watch our Clive Owen rental, which turned out to be boring and sleep-inducing, thankfully.
Although I bet there would be enough time if one lived in western MA where everything closes at 8 pm.
Vacation in review (photos forthcoming):
- Woke up too early on Friday in order to get train from Grand Central to New Haven. On the way out the door D accidentally clocked me in the face with his extremely heavy duffel bag. We took a cab to Grand Central because I am slow when carrying a bag that weighs 1/3 of my body. D walked ahead of me through Grand Central without noticing that I was lagging behind due to my heavy bag. It felt as though I was being dragged around. I finished reading The Voice on the train and started reading The Confessions of Max Tivoli, and oh! the guilty pleasure of a romance novel disguised as serious fiction.
- We picked up the car in New Haven and I decided that I don't want to live there. We stopped at a Mexican restaurant where I made my own burrito and became less bitchy after finally eating something. D suggested that we go to Amherst because he wants to know everything about me. I consented to the detour because it meant a lot to him, and because he said "But you said the best cookies ever are at UMass!" "Yes, I did," I said, "but I can't eat cookies anymore." "Not even the best cookies ever?" "Yes, you're right," I said, and we headed in the direction of Amherst. I hadn't counted onrevisiting a place I lived for four years not feeling at all like vacation.
- We drove through Hadley and I was mortified. Media Play is gone. Everything is gone, replaced by chains and big business and freaking Target and Best Buy and other businesses that have no business being in Hadley. The movie theater has changed. D said "It's because college students have more money now." "Fuckers," I said. We parked near Hasbrouke because it was raining. Lots. We ran around the construction surrounding the campus center and I practically skipped into The Blue Wall, where I was mortified to find that the bakery is gone! GONE! Entirely! "Maybe they're at The Hatch now?" I said. I ran through the arcade in The Student Union and The Hatch was closed! NOOOO!!!! I stopped at the table that was distributing caps and gowns and said "Look, this is a weird question, but anyway, I went here a million years ago and The Blue Wall had the best chocolate chip cookies in the world and... do you know if I can get them somewhere else? Like did they move the bakery?" She said they were still available, wrapped individually, in The Blue Wall deli section. Yes! We ran back and no, there weren't any. NOOOO!!!!
- D wanted to go into town to check out some bike shop after we drove by Orchard Hill. I was surprised to see D overwhelmed by something. "It's so big..." he said, losing his sense of direction. I stood out in the rain staring at Amherst while he stared at bikes. We went to Mystery Train together. D went to Food For Thought and whatever that other record store was next door. While he spent too much money on used CDs, I spent too much money on clothes at Zanna. I finally bought a pair of shorts (I haven't bought shorts in like 7 years - nobody looks good in shorts! nobody!). I chatted with the ladies behind the desk about my nostalgia for the town. "I'm happy you're still here," I said. "Everything is changing."
- D wanted food so we went to Antonio's but he was too overwhelmed, again. "Let's go to Amber Waves," I suggested. It was gone. I think I knew that, but I was hopeful. We ended up at some new Thai place that had decent enough noodles and what D claimed was the best Thai iced tea he had ever had. We went to Newbury Comics and then got back on the road.
- We got to the hotel at around 8:30. They had DVD's available, including a DVD of a fireplace. Heh. It seemed decent enough. The room was fabulous, the bathroom bigger than my former apartment, complete with tub and gigantic shower stall with verticle gigantic shower head. Delicious.
- Things took a turn for the worse when we learned that restaurants in the area stop seating at 9:00. I was starving, of course. They had given us chocolates but needless to say I couldn't eat those. D said "I'll go to the grocery store. What do you want?" "I don't know!" I said, "I can't eat anything anymore!" We went back and forth for about half an hour and finally I said "Why don't you just go and get something for yourself?" He did.
- I spent the next half an hour crying and feeling bad for myself, until I sat in the bathtub where I cried all of the hunger and craving out before D's return.
- D returned with a sub from Subway. "The supermarket, and everything else, is closed," he said. "Do you want me to get you a sub?" "No," I said, "Because I don't want to eat at a chain on vacation." He ate his sub while I read more of my guilty pleasure, trying not to focus on the food I wasn't eating.
- I was exhausted but couldn't sleep, because I kept thinking of the last one and how he'd searched the entire planet for calcium-less multivitamins and turned up one day with chewable gummy children's vitamins saying "You have to take these because I want you to be healthy and not have any kidney stones" and how I gave him such a big hug and how ridiculously spoiled I was before this and how in the past the bathtub was something very, very, very exciting and how I felt very pretty and very important. I snuck out into the rain and ended up reading in the lobby cottage until around 3:30 am, when D appeared and said he was "worried" and wanted to know what was going on and when I started to tell him he seemed disinterested. I consented to going back to bed if and only if we could watch our Clive Owen rental, which turned out to be boring and sleep-inducing, thankfully.
Humidity
I spent a great portion of my free time at work over the past month searching for the perfect alarm clock. I decided that I absolutely required, without compromise, an alarm clock with dual alarms and different sonic options for alarm that would also tell me the weather. After much investigation, I found an awesome one from Sony that looked like it met all of my criteria, but when I saw it in person I decided that it was too big.
I couldn't find an alarm clock that indicated the weather that was also cool.
I didn't know what to do.
D and I, while looking for curtains, found ourselves in this cool modern furniture type store in Hell's Kitchen. The store had an amazing collection of funky/darling alarm clocks, none of which met any of my criteria.
I ended up buying one anyway. It's awesome. It is white, modern, minimal, and doesn't light up unless you press a button. When you do press the button, the display alternates between a bunch of different colors, including purple. It's hypnotic. I love this clock.
It does not, however, have a dual alarm. Nor does it have options for alarm volume or alarm content. It doesn't even have a radio. But it is so cute to look at.
What it does have is an internal temperature sensor. It displays the temperature and humidity of the room that it's in. I instantly became obsessed, poking D to say "Can you believe it's 76 degrees in here?" or "It's down to 67! No wonder we need the blanket!" or "Whoa! 76% humidity inside? Is that possible?" I suggested collecting data and plotting quality of sleep vs. temperature. D is unimpressed, but is happy that I am happy.
The reason I mention any of this is because last night, with the air conditioner on, it was 81 degrees in my bedroom. This summer is going to be ugly.
I couldn't find an alarm clock that indicated the weather that was also cool.
I didn't know what to do.
D and I, while looking for curtains, found ourselves in this cool modern furniture type store in Hell's Kitchen. The store had an amazing collection of funky/darling alarm clocks, none of which met any of my criteria.
I ended up buying one anyway. It's awesome. It is white, modern, minimal, and doesn't light up unless you press a button. When you do press the button, the display alternates between a bunch of different colors, including purple. It's hypnotic. I love this clock.
It does not, however, have a dual alarm. Nor does it have options for alarm volume or alarm content. It doesn't even have a radio. But it is so cute to look at.
What it does have is an internal temperature sensor. It displays the temperature and humidity of the room that it's in. I instantly became obsessed, poking D to say "Can you believe it's 76 degrees in here?" or "It's down to 67! No wonder we need the blanket!" or "Whoa! 76% humidity inside? Is that possible?" I suggested collecting data and plotting quality of sleep vs. temperature. D is unimpressed, but is happy that I am happy.
The reason I mention any of this is because last night, with the air conditioner on, it was 81 degrees in my bedroom. This summer is going to be ugly.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Cheating On The Blog
I started a new blog and feel like I have been neglecting this one.
The new one isn't for the world. It's more of a memory exercise for me as my overstimulated brain seems unable to retain information anymore. It occurred to me on Sunday night, as I was watching Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, that I don't remember specifics about movies anymore. Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance is part of a trilogy that started with Oldboy, which I loved. I cannot remember, however, specifics about Oldboy. Something about a man in prison. Was he framed? He gets out and seeks vengeance and ends up almost sleeping with his daughter. Why? What? I don't know! I can't remember! I know I liked it, but I don't know why I liked it and I don't really know what it was about.
I watch too many movies. I don't have time to allow things to settle and incorporate into my neurons. I go from one stimulus to another and nothing sticks.
The new blog is movie reviews. It will most likely also involve book and art and theater reviews, if I ever have time to read a book or look at art or afford theater again. This new blog is for me so when I think "Wait - what happened in 'Twelve and Holding?'" I can go back and read a summary of the plot and also what I thought about the movie immediately after seeing it.
I'm excited about the new blog. I think it will improve my writing and force me to consolidate my thoughts.
But I feel a little bad, because I am afraid I might neglect this blog. This blog is an emotional dump. I don't think things through. I just write. It's bare and honest. The new blog requires being organized and thoughtful and therefore requires actual time, time that will be taken away from this blog and other side projects like looking for Mediterranean cruises and investigating vegetarian diets that somehow don't involve sugar.
I'm sure its acceptable to have two blogs.
It is, right?
The new one isn't for the world. It's more of a memory exercise for me as my overstimulated brain seems unable to retain information anymore. It occurred to me on Sunday night, as I was watching Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, that I don't remember specifics about movies anymore. Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance is part of a trilogy that started with Oldboy, which I loved. I cannot remember, however, specifics about Oldboy. Something about a man in prison. Was he framed? He gets out and seeks vengeance and ends up almost sleeping with his daughter. Why? What? I don't know! I can't remember! I know I liked it, but I don't know why I liked it and I don't really know what it was about.
I watch too many movies. I don't have time to allow things to settle and incorporate into my neurons. I go from one stimulus to another and nothing sticks.
The new blog is movie reviews. It will most likely also involve book and art and theater reviews, if I ever have time to read a book or look at art or afford theater again. This new blog is for me so when I think "Wait - what happened in 'Twelve and Holding?'" I can go back and read a summary of the plot and also what I thought about the movie immediately after seeing it.
I'm excited about the new blog. I think it will improve my writing and force me to consolidate my thoughts.
But I feel a little bad, because I am afraid I might neglect this blog. This blog is an emotional dump. I don't think things through. I just write. It's bare and honest. The new blog requires being organized and thoughtful and therefore requires actual time, time that will be taken away from this blog and other side projects like looking for Mediterranean cruises and investigating vegetarian diets that somehow don't involve sugar.
I'm sure its acceptable to have two blogs.
It is, right?
Caught
I went to a follow-up doctor's appointment this morning and it became apparent that they were not going to weigh me.
Because I've not been eating cookies and have changed by dietary habits in the past two weeks, I was curious to know if, perchance, I'd lost (or gained) any weight. Not that I'm trying to lose weight (although I should be; weight loss, however, is not the goal of this particular diet), but you understand. Curiosity.
After the nurse left, I decided that certainly I would be waiting for a long time and would therefore have enough time to weigh myself on the fancy (and accurate) doctor's-office-scale! For some reason, however, I felt really guilty about it. Like I was doing something terribly wrong.
I jumped on the scale and determined that I don't weigh 100 pounds. I dropped the big thing down to 50 and was trying to figure out what exactly I weigh when the doctor busted in on me.
I jumped from the scale as though I'd been caught stealing pills.
I was like "Oh... well... I was just weighing... I was curious... you know..." She said nothing.
I don't know what I weigh. I should have weighed myself after she left the room but I was so embarrassed.
And I don't really understand why.
Because I've not been eating cookies and have changed by dietary habits in the past two weeks, I was curious to know if, perchance, I'd lost (or gained) any weight. Not that I'm trying to lose weight (although I should be; weight loss, however, is not the goal of this particular diet), but you understand. Curiosity.
After the nurse left, I decided that certainly I would be waiting for a long time and would therefore have enough time to weigh myself on the fancy (and accurate) doctor's-office-scale! For some reason, however, I felt really guilty about it. Like I was doing something terribly wrong.
I jumped on the scale and determined that I don't weigh 100 pounds. I dropped the big thing down to 50 and was trying to figure out what exactly I weigh when the doctor busted in on me.
I jumped from the scale as though I'd been caught stealing pills.
I was like "Oh... well... I was just weighing... I was curious... you know..." She said nothing.
I don't know what I weigh. I should have weighed myself after she left the room but I was so embarrassed.
And I don't really understand why.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
What's The Deal With Quick Sand?
Last night I said "This memory foam is like f-ing quicksand!"
I hate the memory foam. We have memory foam so D's back won't hurt, but my back hurts because of the memory foam. The thing is that I'd rather have a hurting back than hear D complain about how much his back hurts. This being said, I shall complain now because this is my blog and I can complain if I want to.
I hate it hate it hate it hate it. I wake up feeling like I've run 50 miles. Last night I slept with a stuffed animal under my back so that my back wouldn't curve into the foam. In the past I could tolerate the memory foam because I could go back to my nice, normal mattress and undo the damage done by the foam. But now there is no relief. I cannot wait to get to the hotel on Friday and sleep on a normal mattress.
The point of all this is - what's the deal with quick sand? Does it really exist? If so, where? And what is it? And do people really sink into it? Do people die? If so, do they just disappear? Bizarre. I must investigate this afternoon. D said that he doesn't believe in quick sand. I'm not sure that I do either.
I hate the memory foam. We have memory foam so D's back won't hurt, but my back hurts because of the memory foam. The thing is that I'd rather have a hurting back than hear D complain about how much his back hurts. This being said, I shall complain now because this is my blog and I can complain if I want to.
I hate it hate it hate it hate it. I wake up feeling like I've run 50 miles. Last night I slept with a stuffed animal under my back so that my back wouldn't curve into the foam. In the past I could tolerate the memory foam because I could go back to my nice, normal mattress and undo the damage done by the foam. But now there is no relief. I cannot wait to get to the hotel on Friday and sleep on a normal mattress.
The point of all this is - what's the deal with quick sand? Does it really exist? If so, where? And what is it? And do people really sink into it? Do people die? If so, do they just disappear? Bizarre. I must investigate this afternoon. D said that he doesn't believe in quick sand. I'm not sure that I do either.
Monday, May 22, 2006
The Weekend In Review (alternate title: I Blew It With The Emperor)
1. Delicious Thai food and conversation with NR, who was happy to go to sleep on the couch early. Please keep your fingers crossed for her (and me) that she gets the job.
2. The Parents arriving in record time. They left MA shortly after 7am and arrived at 10:30. I put on clothes and made them a giant breakfast that we had nowhere to eat.
3. The Faith Healer with Mother. We gawked at Ralph Fiennes and enjoyed the play even though others have not. Mother lost her glasses but I found them after crawling around rather unglamorously after the play's conclusion. A good argument for not getting dressed up for the theater.
4. Ralph Fiennes allegedly signing autographs post-play. Mother was so very disappointed that we missed him, as she is a huge fan who checks his website often. We think we saw the back of his head, and remarked that he did not seem tall.
5. Meeting, ahem, THE EMPEROR, Ian McDiarmid, who was also (amazing) in the play. I was the biggest dweeb of all time. Did I maintain enough composure to have my picture taken with him? Of course not. I fumbled with my camera, begging Mother to take our photo, which I guess was asking too much. "But it's the emperor!" I kept saying. "Who? What's wrong with you?" Did I come up with something clever to say to him? Nope. Did I manage to remember even one good Emperor quote? Hell no. Did I pretend to shock him with evil Dark Side like projections from my fingers? Negative. Did I nervously shake his hand and say "The play... was... amazing... you were great..."? Oh yes. He thanked me and went on his way. Lame, I am.
6. Walking through crowds and the 9th Avenue International Food Festival (formerly believed to be The Hell's Kitchen Flea Market). I was disappointed in the lack of finger puppets (although they did have marionettes). I was a model of discipline and did not purchase a deep fried oreo. I did, however, sample bizarrely flavored kettlecorn. Mother shared a disturbing insight and we frantically talked through it before D and Father caught up with us after visiting Grant's Tomb and other uptown landmarks.
7. Barely making it to the roof. "It's worth it," I kept saying as they gasped walking slowly up the stairs. Father took a zillion photos of the view. I took a zillion photos of him taking photos, of D eating a mozzarippa, of my favorite building and the city looking like a facade.
8. Father napping. We chatted. Brother arrived and said "So you live on Sesame Street?"
9. Sarcastic and wonderfully silly waiter at dinner. Gnocchi melting in my mouth - yes! Brother's old friend with newly fabulous hair. Smiling. Laughing. Open window.
10. Cab to Bench Buddy's Farewell Party taking forever.
11. Bench Buddy's Farewall Party being too cold or too crowded, or for me, too trendy and too hurtful. Confrontation with VB. I almost slapped her. I hate apologizing for things that shouldn't matter to humor people (aka diffuse drama). I hate everyone.
12. Vowing to never hang out with coworkers ever. again.
13. Succombing in my own pet peeve - not saying good-bye - so as to avoid more drama and peer pressure from and by coworkers. Not caring. I walked away really upset, wanting to leave New York foreverandeverandever and whatiswrongwithpeoplehere, but felt better when Brother cared. People not-from-New-York make New York acceptable.
14. Brunch at restaurant with pink menus. Best french toast of all time - and berries! Mother flirting with gay waiter. This is new and adorable.
15. Talk of family trip - cruise? Meditteranean? Picky, nervous, not wanting to see things that aren't familiar such as Turkey. I convinced them that we should rent a villa. It's fun to fantasize, and even more fun to become the parent. Yes, I will look into it.
16. More street fair. Hell's Kitchen Flea Market. Almost a rain storm on us but HAH we made it inside just in time!
17. Strangers with Candy, a nap, brownies for some, good-byes.
18. Relief, decompression, sadness, alone again, missing the family, LBF, NR. Cleaning, laundry, photos, Sicilian villas, no bed and breakfasts in Northampton, Memoirs of a Geisha.
19. Too much guacamole on the burrito. Too much stress about western MA. But finally a hotel! A vacation! A spa nearby and I will buy myself a massage (and haircut?) because dear god I think I need one if only once ever because the memory foam is killing me. Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance finished. No talking about it. Pretending to sleep.
20. Memoirs of a Geisha finished and not hated. 2am. Still not tired. Wanting someone to talk to. Wanting someone to notice. Wanting someone to ask. Remembering when we paid attention. Demanding attention and feeling better until the morning.
Summer hours begin this week! Only three more days and then The Berkshires and museums and not much else because apparently nothing happens in western MA until July. But this means more time to do nothing but read books and look at green things and eat and maybe, just maybe, breadsticks from Spaghetti Freddy's.
2. The Parents arriving in record time. They left MA shortly after 7am and arrived at 10:30. I put on clothes and made them a giant breakfast that we had nowhere to eat.
3. The Faith Healer with Mother. We gawked at Ralph Fiennes and enjoyed the play even though others have not. Mother lost her glasses but I found them after crawling around rather unglamorously after the play's conclusion. A good argument for not getting dressed up for the theater.
4. Ralph Fiennes allegedly signing autographs post-play. Mother was so very disappointed that we missed him, as she is a huge fan who checks his website often. We think we saw the back of his head, and remarked that he did not seem tall.
5. Meeting, ahem, THE EMPEROR, Ian McDiarmid, who was also (amazing) in the play. I was the biggest dweeb of all time. Did I maintain enough composure to have my picture taken with him? Of course not. I fumbled with my camera, begging Mother to take our photo, which I guess was asking too much. "But it's the emperor!" I kept saying. "Who? What's wrong with you?" Did I come up with something clever to say to him? Nope. Did I manage to remember even one good Emperor quote? Hell no. Did I pretend to shock him with evil Dark Side like projections from my fingers? Negative. Did I nervously shake his hand and say "The play... was... amazing... you were great..."? Oh yes. He thanked me and went on his way. Lame, I am.
6. Walking through crowds and the 9th Avenue International Food Festival (formerly believed to be The Hell's Kitchen Flea Market). I was disappointed in the lack of finger puppets (although they did have marionettes). I was a model of discipline and did not purchase a deep fried oreo. I did, however, sample bizarrely flavored kettlecorn. Mother shared a disturbing insight and we frantically talked through it before D and Father caught up with us after visiting Grant's Tomb and other uptown landmarks.
7. Barely making it to the roof. "It's worth it," I kept saying as they gasped walking slowly up the stairs. Father took a zillion photos of the view. I took a zillion photos of him taking photos, of D eating a mozzarippa, of my favorite building and the city looking like a facade.
8. Father napping. We chatted. Brother arrived and said "So you live on Sesame Street?"
9. Sarcastic and wonderfully silly waiter at dinner. Gnocchi melting in my mouth - yes! Brother's old friend with newly fabulous hair. Smiling. Laughing. Open window.
10. Cab to Bench Buddy's Farewell Party taking forever.
11. Bench Buddy's Farewall Party being too cold or too crowded, or for me, too trendy and too hurtful. Confrontation with VB. I almost slapped her. I hate apologizing for things that shouldn't matter to humor people (aka diffuse drama). I hate everyone.
12. Vowing to never hang out with coworkers ever. again.
13. Succombing in my own pet peeve - not saying good-bye - so as to avoid more drama and peer pressure from and by coworkers. Not caring. I walked away really upset, wanting to leave New York foreverandeverandever and whatiswrongwithpeoplehere, but felt better when Brother cared. People not-from-New-York make New York acceptable.
14. Brunch at restaurant with pink menus. Best french toast of all time - and berries! Mother flirting with gay waiter. This is new and adorable.
15. Talk of family trip - cruise? Meditteranean? Picky, nervous, not wanting to see things that aren't familiar such as Turkey. I convinced them that we should rent a villa. It's fun to fantasize, and even more fun to become the parent. Yes, I will look into it.
16. More street fair. Hell's Kitchen Flea Market. Almost a rain storm on us but HAH we made it inside just in time!
17. Strangers with Candy, a nap, brownies for some, good-byes.
18. Relief, decompression, sadness, alone again, missing the family, LBF, NR. Cleaning, laundry, photos, Sicilian villas, no bed and breakfasts in Northampton, Memoirs of a Geisha.
19. Too much guacamole on the burrito. Too much stress about western MA. But finally a hotel! A vacation! A spa nearby and I will buy myself a massage (and haircut?) because dear god I think I need one if only once ever because the memory foam is killing me. Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance finished. No talking about it. Pretending to sleep.
20. Memoirs of a Geisha finished and not hated. 2am. Still not tired. Wanting someone to talk to. Wanting someone to notice. Wanting someone to ask. Remembering when we paid attention. Demanding attention and feeling better until the morning.
Summer hours begin this week! Only three more days and then The Berkshires and museums and not much else because apparently nothing happens in western MA until July. But this means more time to do nothing but read books and look at green things and eat and maybe, just maybe, breadsticks from Spaghetti Freddy's.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Hosting
D and I co-hosted our first function last evening to thank those who helped us move.
D put our names on our mailbox and I think my heart skipped a beat. I suppose I hadn't realized that we were living together prior to seeing our names together. He said "I'm sorry I had to put my name first but it sounded dumb the other way." True. Unfortunate, but true.
We got off to a rough start because one of us can't plan ahead so the shopping for vegetables and alcohol was left until last night post-work, giving us exactly one hour to clean the apartment, make cucumber sandwiches, make lasagna (the limiting factor), make a gigantic salad, make brownies, put things out, etc.
D is definitely a more anxious host than me, which I found surprising. I think this is because D is used to having 3 people at most over at a time, whereas my Boston roots trained me to expect no fewer than 40 people. Granted, its been ages since I prepared a meal for over 10 people, but I was the model of composure. I think D's anxiety forced me to chill out.
The lasagna noodles took 10,000 years to boil. We didn't have enough counter space to be working on all of these projects at the same time. D was testy and insecure. He kept asking me "How should I cut the peppers?" "Whatever you think is best." "Do you like the cucumbers peeled?" "I don't care." "Should I put the M&M's in this bowl?" "Whatever you want."
Guests showed up early. D was a bit nervous. We have a list of "Things To Do" on our refrigerator involving the apartment and personal things, such as "Dye Hair Soon." One of the items was "Check for Roof Access," which, for some reason, we hadn't done until last night. We sent The Boss and Bench Buddy on an expedition to see if we had roof access.
When they didn't turn up for quite some time, we concluded that they were either dead or that we do, indeed, have roof access. The remaining guests and I headed up to the roof. I tripped on a step en route, fell over, and managed to spill wine everywhere but not drop the glass. How is that possible? Although, if I had dropped the glass it wouldn't have broken because it was an unbreakable glass from M and A.
And oh! The roof. We are morons for not having investigated sooner. But we have become people who run out of milk and toilet paper because there is too much going on. It was a glorious evening and the sun was setting and we can see The Empire State Building and all of midtown and oh! Exquisite. I held court with a re-telling of the Statue Story involving The Parents for those who hadn't yet heard it. They found it riveting.
We stayed up there too long and forgot to heat up the lasagna. At 9:00 we returned and I drunkenly cooked the lasagna for too long and then didn't let it cool off for long enough, so it became a runny mess but was still oh-so-delicious.
And curse you, NR, for you and your Journey-loving ways! When we sat down for dinner, D put on the Journey video, which is awesome for about ten minutes, but man. Why break up a perfectly nice conversation and force everyone to watch and discuss Journey?
We ate brownies and ice cream (wrong, I know, but it was a special night!) and everyone was gone by 11:00. I did dishes while D mopped everything because he is unable to deal with shoes in the house.
I didn't sleep well because of wine and memory foam, and today I am a wreck, but we had fun and I want to always have people over as long as it doesn't involve lasagna.
D put our names on our mailbox and I think my heart skipped a beat. I suppose I hadn't realized that we were living together prior to seeing our names together. He said "I'm sorry I had to put my name first but it sounded dumb the other way." True. Unfortunate, but true.
We got off to a rough start because one of us can't plan ahead so the shopping for vegetables and alcohol was left until last night post-work, giving us exactly one hour to clean the apartment, make cucumber sandwiches, make lasagna (the limiting factor), make a gigantic salad, make brownies, put things out, etc.
D is definitely a more anxious host than me, which I found surprising. I think this is because D is used to having 3 people at most over at a time, whereas my Boston roots trained me to expect no fewer than 40 people. Granted, its been ages since I prepared a meal for over 10 people, but I was the model of composure. I think D's anxiety forced me to chill out.
The lasagna noodles took 10,000 years to boil. We didn't have enough counter space to be working on all of these projects at the same time. D was testy and insecure. He kept asking me "How should I cut the peppers?" "Whatever you think is best." "Do you like the cucumbers peeled?" "I don't care." "Should I put the M&M's in this bowl?" "Whatever you want."
Guests showed up early. D was a bit nervous. We have a list of "Things To Do" on our refrigerator involving the apartment and personal things, such as "Dye Hair Soon." One of the items was "Check for Roof Access," which, for some reason, we hadn't done until last night. We sent The Boss and Bench Buddy on an expedition to see if we had roof access.
When they didn't turn up for quite some time, we concluded that they were either dead or that we do, indeed, have roof access. The remaining guests and I headed up to the roof. I tripped on a step en route, fell over, and managed to spill wine everywhere but not drop the glass. How is that possible? Although, if I had dropped the glass it wouldn't have broken because it was an unbreakable glass from M and A.
And oh! The roof. We are morons for not having investigated sooner. But we have become people who run out of milk and toilet paper because there is too much going on. It was a glorious evening and the sun was setting and we can see The Empire State Building and all of midtown and oh! Exquisite. I held court with a re-telling of the Statue Story involving The Parents for those who hadn't yet heard it. They found it riveting.
We stayed up there too long and forgot to heat up the lasagna. At 9:00 we returned and I drunkenly cooked the lasagna for too long and then didn't let it cool off for long enough, so it became a runny mess but was still oh-so-delicious.
And curse you, NR, for you and your Journey-loving ways! When we sat down for dinner, D put on the Journey video, which is awesome for about ten minutes, but man. Why break up a perfectly nice conversation and force everyone to watch and discuss Journey?
We ate brownies and ice cream (wrong, I know, but it was a special night!) and everyone was gone by 11:00. I did dishes while D mopped everything because he is unable to deal with shoes in the house.
I didn't sleep well because of wine and memory foam, and today I am a wreck, but we had fun and I want to always have people over as long as it doesn't involve lasagna.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Phobia
Apparently the best cure for your fear of public speaking is sleep deprivation. I was too tired this morning to be anxious and anything but utterly poised. Sweet!
I feel a song coming on...
I feel a song coming on...
Readers Of My Mundane Life In Song RULE!
(said in the style of "Wyld Stallyns RULE!")
Thank you all so much for the cyber hugs and support.
I felt way less lonely when I read your words this morning.
I wish you all lived in Hell's Kitchen.
Thank you all so much for the cyber hugs and support.
I felt way less lonely when I read your words this morning.
I wish you all lived in Hell's Kitchen.
Lonely
M said that the best thing would be to have someone at home every night who would be there when you want to cry for no reason.
She didn't mention that he would just fall asleep before asking you how you were and therefore not afford you the opportunity to cry. She didn't mention that then in order to not wake him up you'd spend evenings crying on the couch and trying desperately to fall asleep there. She didn't mention that you wouldn't be able to sleep. She didn't mention that you'd feel claustrophobic and tense and sad and hopeless. She didn't mention that you'd constantly wonder if the self-confessed appeaser is always just appeasing you. She didn't mention how sad it would make you to hear him planning your life for you without asking and being excited about and planning for the race that's taking place in over a month when he can't discuss the trip for which you still do not have tickets (or a destination) that's allegedly occurring next week. She didn't mention that you would want to cry when he tells you that the race is the same week as the fictional Europe trip that won;'t happen because he's appeasing you and not really wanting to do any of these things - If he did he'd plan them with the zeal with which he planned the race logistics. She didn't mention that you'd feel lonelier than you've ever felt, because you can't just make sad phone calls at 1 am anymore to be cheered up. She didn't mention that he'd forget the presentation. She didn't mention that he wouldn't care. She didn't mention that you'd both disappear. She didn't recommend buying a more comfortable couch. She didn't mention how ridiculous it is to be crying by yourself in the livihg room on the eve of your big seminar when you REALLY need to get more than 4 hours' sleep while he's in there blissfully sleeping.
I'm lame because I can't sleep when there are emotions.
I'm lame because I can't quite sleep when I'm lonely.
And even lamer because I can't sleep at all when I feel lonely when I really shouldn't feel lonely.
It makes me want to run away and never look back. The original impetus for moving (alone) was to sleep better. I had no idea loneliness would be louder than the gas station.
She didn't mention that he would just fall asleep before asking you how you were and therefore not afford you the opportunity to cry. She didn't mention that then in order to not wake him up you'd spend evenings crying on the couch and trying desperately to fall asleep there. She didn't mention that you wouldn't be able to sleep. She didn't mention that you'd feel claustrophobic and tense and sad and hopeless. She didn't mention that you'd constantly wonder if the self-confessed appeaser is always just appeasing you. She didn't mention how sad it would make you to hear him planning your life for you without asking and being excited about and planning for the race that's taking place in over a month when he can't discuss the trip for which you still do not have tickets (or a destination) that's allegedly occurring next week. She didn't mention that you would want to cry when he tells you that the race is the same week as the fictional Europe trip that won;'t happen because he's appeasing you and not really wanting to do any of these things - If he did he'd plan them with the zeal with which he planned the race logistics. She didn't mention that you'd feel lonelier than you've ever felt, because you can't just make sad phone calls at 1 am anymore to be cheered up. She didn't mention that he'd forget the presentation. She didn't mention that he wouldn't care. She didn't mention that you'd both disappear. She didn't recommend buying a more comfortable couch. She didn't mention how ridiculous it is to be crying by yourself in the livihg room on the eve of your big seminar when you REALLY need to get more than 4 hours' sleep while he's in there blissfully sleeping.
I'm lame because I can't sleep when there are emotions.
I'm lame because I can't quite sleep when I'm lonely.
And even lamer because I can't sleep at all when I feel lonely when I really shouldn't feel lonely.
It makes me want to run away and never look back. The original impetus for moving (alone) was to sleep better. I had no idea loneliness would be louder than the gas station.
Monday, May 15, 2006
The Apartment Has Been Rented!
I guess that's all.
In short:
The guy about whom I declared "This is the guy who is going to rent the apartment!" after talking to him for two minutes rented the apartment.
He is thrilled, ecstatic, bouncing-off-the-walls enamored with my apartment.
When I gave him the keys, he gave me a bottle of wine in exchange. I love when people extend unnecessary kindnesses.
He offered us blinds.
He did a little dance when I gave him the keys and sang "I can't believe I'm a New Yorker!"
He wants to invite me over after he's settled in.
They are charging me rent for all of May even though he now lives there.
They are not, however, charging me the lease-breaking fee because "You have been so sweet and you're such a nice kid and you've been so helpful through all of this so we'll just keep the deposit. I think that's fair. And you have a boyfriend and you're living with him and you're happy and we're happy for you. I think this is fair."
"So do I."
Do I? No, but am I just glad that I don't have to deal with this anymore? Yes. I'd rather pay an extra $300 than have this draw on, have to go there, fill out paperwork, etc. It's worth it to me to just be done with it.
Now all I need are some curtains and I will be officially settled.
WOOOO!!!!!!
In short:
The guy about whom I declared "This is the guy who is going to rent the apartment!" after talking to him for two minutes rented the apartment.
He is thrilled, ecstatic, bouncing-off-the-walls enamored with my apartment.
When I gave him the keys, he gave me a bottle of wine in exchange. I love when people extend unnecessary kindnesses.
He offered us blinds.
He did a little dance when I gave him the keys and sang "I can't believe I'm a New Yorker!"
He wants to invite me over after he's settled in.
They are charging me rent for all of May even though he now lives there.
They are not, however, charging me the lease-breaking fee because "You have been so sweet and you're such a nice kid and you've been so helpful through all of this so we'll just keep the deposit. I think that's fair. And you have a boyfriend and you're living with him and you're happy and we're happy for you. I think this is fair."
"So do I."
Do I? No, but am I just glad that I don't have to deal with this anymore? Yes. I'd rather pay an extra $300 than have this draw on, have to go there, fill out paperwork, etc. It's worth it to me to just be done with it.
Now all I need are some curtains and I will be officially settled.
WOOOO!!!!!!
Finger Puppets!!!
I ate breakfast today.
I then walked 87 miles to the train in the rain. It really seems like 87 miles when it's pouring.
The weekend was good. Real good.
It started off with macaroni and cheese and one deadly glass of wine with J. We tried to get a psychic reading but were turned away! Do psychics really make enough money to turn people away? I think not! I bought sugar-free goodies and flowers and went home and read and watched The Dying Gaul and slept lots.
I woke up early on Saturday to meet up with LBF, but my plans were thwarted when I discovered that my key to my building no longer worked. I buzzed my neighbors furiously. 2C let me in.
I knocked on their door and said "Hi - ummm - I'm your new neighbor. Have you guys been having trouble getting into the building lately?" 2C explained that this happens at times, and that you just have to jiggle the key in the lock.
I said "But I can't even get my key into the lock at all!"
2C offered to come downstairs with me to demonstrate his jiggling technique. Nice! We discovered that there was indeed something wrong with my key in particular- it was too thick? Curse you, Home Depot! 2C went above and beyond the neighborly call of duty and gave me his key from which to have a new copy made. I ran to a hardware store, made a copy of his key, had my pre-existing key adjusted, ran back to my apartment, let myself into the building (sweet!) after an older couple explained that they'd been locked out for 10 minutes but had moments before jiggled themselves in, ran up to 2C, thanked him profusely, and ran to meet LBF at Rockefeller Center.
There we partook in Art Rock. It was cool. Here are some photos:
We then headed down to Chelsea to check out the John Waters exhibit. Our plans were thwarted when we encountered a street fair! Oh how I love me a street fair.
LBF bought 12 magnets for $5.
For me she purchased a magnet shaped like the perfect food - avocado. Yummmmm.
There were, of course, finger puppets.
And most importantly, a Yoda finger puppet!
And candied apples.
And candied strawberries.
And outfits for your cell phone.
And corn.
Oh how I love a street fair!
We ate burritos and then went to the gallery. I bought a much-needed deep frame at a neighborhood stoop sale on 23rd for $7! Jackpot! We headed downtown to see a disturbing cartoon festival (but awesome - probably one of the best cartoon festivals I've seen - it was consistently good) at The Film Forum. We meandered. We lingered in Washington Square Park. We wandered up to Union Square and ate Indian food. We saw a show at Upright Citizen's Brigade (hilarious - with a skit about puppets!).
It is lovely when people visit because rather than tend to chores and other city nonsense errands blah blah blah, I get to enjoy the city and remember why I live here. I live here because you can walk around aimlessly and be pleasantly suprised by a vat of finger puppets.
After letting myself into the building without a problem because someone has duct taped the lock so the door no longer locks at all, I framed my project in the deep frame after much duress and after slicing my finger open with one of those little brackets in the back of the frame that folds over to keep the art inside. It was gory. Blood dripping everywhere. I watched a bit of Battle In Heaven and decided that I wasn't in the mood to be disturbed. I read and slept lots again.
I have decided that productivity gives me confidence. Yesterday was one of the more productive days I have ever had. I woke up early. I did laundry. I read The Village Voice. I cleaned the apartment from top to bottom in anticipation of our party on Wednesday and of my parents' visit this coming weekend. I ate breakfast and lunch. I talked to Father. I watched some more of Battle in Heaven and decided that I still couldn't handle it. I talked to Mother en route to B & H. I bought the long-overdue polarizing filter and lens cleaner. B & H is magic even on the weekends. I went to Duane Reade. I discovered a small shop that sells vintage/retro glassware and plates. Delicious. I bought only two with polka dots hoping for D's approval and the go-ahead to buy many, many more. I went to Bed, Bath and Beyond and bought new space-efficient photo albums and a curtain. I went home and transferred every single photo from the old photo albums into the new ones. I uploaded photos from the weekend. I ordered prints of photos from the past two months. I cleaned the lens (finally! no more of R's fingerprints in my photos!). I finally watched the rest of Battle in Heaven and will spend the rest of my life trying to forget that I ever saw it. It's an amazing and elegant movie but I can't recommend it to you because I don't recommend that any of you torture yourselves. I played piano for hours. I sang showtunes at the top of my lungs. I made the bed because D was coming home and I know how much he likes a neat bed. I fixed my hair in anticipation of his arrival. I contemplated putting on makeup but decided that makeup in the house is excessive when greeting your boyfriend who should in theory be excited to see you after a week no matter what you look like. I listened to the new Stills album two more times and decided that I don't hate it and actually really like it and can't wait for the show. I made dinner when D arrived. I tried not to miss the quiet. I tossed and turned and missed sleeping in the middle, but enjoyed hearing his breathing.
It was a good weekend. I got lots done, but also had fun. Actually, it was a perfect weekend.
I then walked 87 miles to the train in the rain. It really seems like 87 miles when it's pouring.
The weekend was good. Real good.
It started off with macaroni and cheese and one deadly glass of wine with J. We tried to get a psychic reading but were turned away! Do psychics really make enough money to turn people away? I think not! I bought sugar-free goodies and flowers and went home and read and watched The Dying Gaul and slept lots.
I woke up early on Saturday to meet up with LBF, but my plans were thwarted when I discovered that my key to my building no longer worked. I buzzed my neighbors furiously. 2C let me in.
I knocked on their door and said "Hi - ummm - I'm your new neighbor. Have you guys been having trouble getting into the building lately?" 2C explained that this happens at times, and that you just have to jiggle the key in the lock.
I said "But I can't even get my key into the lock at all!"
2C offered to come downstairs with me to demonstrate his jiggling technique. Nice! We discovered that there was indeed something wrong with my key in particular- it was too thick? Curse you, Home Depot! 2C went above and beyond the neighborly call of duty and gave me his key from which to have a new copy made. I ran to a hardware store, made a copy of his key, had my pre-existing key adjusted, ran back to my apartment, let myself into the building (sweet!) after an older couple explained that they'd been locked out for 10 minutes but had moments before jiggled themselves in, ran up to 2C, thanked him profusely, and ran to meet LBF at Rockefeller Center.
There we partook in Art Rock. It was cool. Here are some photos:
We then headed down to Chelsea to check out the John Waters exhibit. Our plans were thwarted when we encountered a street fair! Oh how I love me a street fair.
LBF bought 12 magnets for $5.
For me she purchased a magnet shaped like the perfect food - avocado. Yummmmm.
There were, of course, finger puppets.
And most importantly, a Yoda finger puppet!
And candied apples.
And candied strawberries.
And outfits for your cell phone.
And corn.
Oh how I love a street fair!
We ate burritos and then went to the gallery. I bought a much-needed deep frame at a neighborhood stoop sale on 23rd for $7! Jackpot! We headed downtown to see a disturbing cartoon festival (but awesome - probably one of the best cartoon festivals I've seen - it was consistently good) at The Film Forum. We meandered. We lingered in Washington Square Park. We wandered up to Union Square and ate Indian food. We saw a show at Upright Citizen's Brigade (hilarious - with a skit about puppets!).
It is lovely when people visit because rather than tend to chores and other city nonsense errands blah blah blah, I get to enjoy the city and remember why I live here. I live here because you can walk around aimlessly and be pleasantly suprised by a vat of finger puppets.
After letting myself into the building without a problem because someone has duct taped the lock so the door no longer locks at all, I framed my project in the deep frame after much duress and after slicing my finger open with one of those little brackets in the back of the frame that folds over to keep the art inside. It was gory. Blood dripping everywhere. I watched a bit of Battle In Heaven and decided that I wasn't in the mood to be disturbed. I read and slept lots again.
I have decided that productivity gives me confidence. Yesterday was one of the more productive days I have ever had. I woke up early. I did laundry. I read The Village Voice. I cleaned the apartment from top to bottom in anticipation of our party on Wednesday and of my parents' visit this coming weekend. I ate breakfast and lunch. I talked to Father. I watched some more of Battle in Heaven and decided that I still couldn't handle it. I talked to Mother en route to B & H. I bought the long-overdue polarizing filter and lens cleaner. B & H is magic even on the weekends. I went to Duane Reade. I discovered a small shop that sells vintage/retro glassware and plates. Delicious. I bought only two with polka dots hoping for D's approval and the go-ahead to buy many, many more. I went to Bed, Bath and Beyond and bought new space-efficient photo albums and a curtain. I went home and transferred every single photo from the old photo albums into the new ones. I uploaded photos from the weekend. I ordered prints of photos from the past two months. I cleaned the lens (finally! no more of R's fingerprints in my photos!). I finally watched the rest of Battle in Heaven and will spend the rest of my life trying to forget that I ever saw it. It's an amazing and elegant movie but I can't recommend it to you because I don't recommend that any of you torture yourselves. I played piano for hours. I sang showtunes at the top of my lungs. I made the bed because D was coming home and I know how much he likes a neat bed. I fixed my hair in anticipation of his arrival. I contemplated putting on makeup but decided that makeup in the house is excessive when greeting your boyfriend who should in theory be excited to see you after a week no matter what you look like. I listened to the new Stills album two more times and decided that I don't hate it and actually really like it and can't wait for the show. I made dinner when D arrived. I tried not to miss the quiet. I tossed and turned and missed sleeping in the middle, but enjoyed hearing his breathing.
It was a good weekend. I got lots done, but also had fun. Actually, it was a perfect weekend.
Friday, May 12, 2006
Pet
I had a dream last night in which I bought a pet cockroach.
I went to pick him up at the store. In dream-land, when you buy a pet cockroach, he is given to you in a box with a little window.
I left the store and looked through the little window to gaze upon him with pride, and completely freaked out when he turned out to be a grasshopper!
Seriously. I screamed, threw the box into the air, dropped the box, causing the grasshopper to jump away and disappear. My heart rate skyrocketed and I kept screaming and screaming and screaming "I DIDN'T WANT A GRASSHOPPER! HE'S DISGUSTING!"
Right.
It all seemed so reasonable in the dream.
I went to pick him up at the store. In dream-land, when you buy a pet cockroach, he is given to you in a box with a little window.
I left the store and looked through the little window to gaze upon him with pride, and completely freaked out when he turned out to be a grasshopper!
Seriously. I screamed, threw the box into the air, dropped the box, causing the grasshopper to jump away and disappear. My heart rate skyrocketed and I kept screaming and screaming and screaming "I DIDN'T WANT A GRASSHOPPER! HE'S DISGUSTING!"
Right.
It all seemed so reasonable in the dream.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Disable Cookies
It's been a while since I've written.
Not writing is a result of being busy at work, feeling boring, feeling like nobody is reading (but does that really matter? the blog is for me), feeling sick, etc.
This is what has been consuming my time as of late:
Hanging stuff on walls.
Coming to terms with the possibility of no more cookies.
Trying to decide what to do with all of the cookies that will never be eaten by me.
Trying to decide what exercise videos to purchase.
Getting rubber cement all over my hands.
Looking through archives of photographs to not hang on the walls.
Experiencing anxiety about the stupid apartment when I actually remember the stupid apartment (how lovely it is to no longer be obsessed) that is allegedly rented, about which they said "We'll let you know" but of course they have not let me know. Ugh. This is tiresome.
Making slides and being uncharacteristically assertive so as to avoid being micromanaged like some lame seminar-giving puppet.
Not having much of a life due to double rent being paid for two months (not to mention due to the paying of ridiculous realtor fee).
Saving money. Yes!
Reading D's magazines.
Sleeping in the middle of the bed.
Yearning for vacation.
Searching for frames and alarm clocks and vacations.
Not blogging regularly.
I'll be back to normal soon, I promise. I think once the apartment is rented and I have a grasp on what my life should be like, I'll feel settled and normal and can go back to living and looking forward instead of being stuck.
OK.
Boring boring boring. See!?
Not writing is a result of being busy at work, feeling boring, feeling like nobody is reading (but does that really matter? the blog is for me), feeling sick, etc.
This is what has been consuming my time as of late:
Hanging stuff on walls.
Coming to terms with the possibility of no more cookies.
Trying to decide what to do with all of the cookies that will never be eaten by me.
Trying to decide what exercise videos to purchase.
Getting rubber cement all over my hands.
Looking through archives of photographs to not hang on the walls.
Experiencing anxiety about the stupid apartment when I actually remember the stupid apartment (how lovely it is to no longer be obsessed) that is allegedly rented, about which they said "We'll let you know" but of course they have not let me know. Ugh. This is tiresome.
Making slides and being uncharacteristically assertive so as to avoid being micromanaged like some lame seminar-giving puppet.
Not having much of a life due to double rent being paid for two months (not to mention due to the paying of ridiculous realtor fee).
Saving money. Yes!
Reading D's magazines.
Sleeping in the middle of the bed.
Yearning for vacation.
Searching for frames and alarm clocks and vacations.
Not blogging regularly.
I'll be back to normal soon, I promise. I think once the apartment is rented and I have a grasp on what my life should be like, I'll feel settled and normal and can go back to living and looking forward instead of being stuck.
OK.
Boring boring boring. See!?
Monday, May 08, 2006
Not In The Mood Today
I am not in the mood to work. There is much to be done, but do I want to do it? No. The work is comprised of many small tasks, the sort of small tasks that can pile up and vex you at day's end. I'm trying, I swear.
I'm a bit burnt from the weekend. Not sure why - I got plenty of sleep and plenty of time to indulge in mundane projects around the home. I've been feeling fuzzy-headed and faint as of late, which can be confused with being tired. And the headaches - oh my. I guess lots o' drugs can make you feel cloudy.
Nevertheless, the weekend was full.
A summary:
Lamest party ever to celebrate Cinco de Mayo on Friday night. I resent wealth that is not earned. I loathe former prep-school douchebags who drop hedgefund terminology to seem relevant. I hate giant flat screen TVs in kitchens. I hate feeling awkward around mariachi bands. I hate models. I hate dogs in pocketbooks. I hate entitlement.
Got home early in order to sleep. Didn't catch up on Netflix because School of Rock was on and I'd never seen it. Did projects.
Had breakfast with a coworker and her sons before they took our shelves away from us - thank you thank you THANK YOU. Her 13-year-old was eager to impress. I told him that I liked his shaggy hair and he was sold. He dropped comics knowledge and smiled so hard it made me want to cry when he found out that I too like The Beastie Boys. I forced Watchmen upon him and know that it will blow his mind. He wants to see X-Men 3 with us.
Met up with PW and The New Boy for a Tribeca Film Fest film that was sold out. No David Duchovny in a comedy for us! Plan B involved the Hell's Kitchen Flea Market, sweet and salty at Amy's Bread, brief detour at the new abode and then gawking at David Blaine in the bubble (photos forthcoming). For some reason I love a spectacle, and moreso a spectacle that manages somehow miraculously to soothe.
Walked too much and walked then to the Amish Market which is not an Amish Market at all. There are indeed Amish goodies there but also a plethora of fancy foods, a mere three blocks from the new abode! I meant only to buy vegetables but left with other things I needn't ever eat.
Did more projects prior to attending D's friend's birthday party in Guam... er... Brooklyn. Sat on the roof and shivered. Devoured delicious vegetarian sandwiches and salads. Nursed a deadly daquiri and was eventually defeated by a fly's being stuck within. "Waiter, there's a fly stuck in my daquiri." Stared at a cute kit. "This cat is thin!" I said. What a stupid thing to say.
Home early yet again to sleep in preparation for D's race.
Talked to LBF and can't wait to see her. I canNOT wait. I cannot!
D won the biathlon! HE WON!!! My boy has no confidence regarding things about which he should have confidence. He has blind faith in the intentions of others, but none in his own abilities. So endearing. I smothered him with proud kisses as soon as I could. He said he thought of me for the entire race, saying he wanted to make his girl proud. I said I was proud no matter what. I'm proud that he rides a bike at all, dear god. I'm proud of his dedication to and enthusiasm for things. I'm proud of him for wearing his cute superhero bike outfit. I'm proud of him for getting up at 6 am. I'm proud to know him, proud to be with him, proud to be the person who makes him happy.
We went for lunch to celebrate. His suggestion that he start competing nationally and assertion that I will come to support him! promptly resulted in my having a meltdown about finances. "We can't live like this," I said. "We need a budget." "We need to prioritize." "We have spent an absurd amount of money this past month and we cannot get it back." He said "We will save it." I said "We will not, because we live in New York City. You can't save money here." We decided on no more eating out and no more popcorn at movies and fewer movies anyway and will make a list of possible vacation destinations because I really need a vacation. And a keyboard. And a filter for my lens. And lens cleaner. And more photo albums. And an alarm clock. And new sheets. And a coffee table. And a flash. And an external hard drive.
We stopped by to see David Blaine again.
We walked too much and didn't get curtains or sheets.
D napped while I did a long-overdue categorization of thousands of photos.
We interrupted eating and more eating with projects around the house. We hooked up the stereo in its final home. We stared at the walls and didn't hang anything up. We forgot to eat the corn. We watched Mrs. Henderson Presents and I gushed over Dame Judy. We are in desperate need of a vacation.
D is going on vacation this week. Work for him is not as much of an issue, nor is money, so he's off to sleep and swim and read and watch movies and mow lawns.
This means, for yours truly, that I will not be forced to do projects round-the-house for five whole days! Luxury. I am going to sleep and read and watch movies and sleep in the middle of the bed. This will be a good week.
I'm a bit burnt from the weekend. Not sure why - I got plenty of sleep and plenty of time to indulge in mundane projects around the home. I've been feeling fuzzy-headed and faint as of late, which can be confused with being tired. And the headaches - oh my. I guess lots o' drugs can make you feel cloudy.
Nevertheless, the weekend was full.
A summary:
Lamest party ever to celebrate Cinco de Mayo on Friday night. I resent wealth that is not earned. I loathe former prep-school douchebags who drop hedgefund terminology to seem relevant. I hate giant flat screen TVs in kitchens. I hate feeling awkward around mariachi bands. I hate models. I hate dogs in pocketbooks. I hate entitlement.
Got home early in order to sleep. Didn't catch up on Netflix because School of Rock was on and I'd never seen it. Did projects.
Had breakfast with a coworker and her sons before they took our shelves away from us - thank you thank you THANK YOU. Her 13-year-old was eager to impress. I told him that I liked his shaggy hair and he was sold. He dropped comics knowledge and smiled so hard it made me want to cry when he found out that I too like The Beastie Boys. I forced Watchmen upon him and know that it will blow his mind. He wants to see X-Men 3 with us.
Met up with PW and The New Boy for a Tribeca Film Fest film that was sold out. No David Duchovny in a comedy for us! Plan B involved the Hell's Kitchen Flea Market, sweet and salty at Amy's Bread, brief detour at the new abode and then gawking at David Blaine in the bubble (photos forthcoming). For some reason I love a spectacle, and moreso a spectacle that manages somehow miraculously to soothe.
Walked too much and walked then to the Amish Market which is not an Amish Market at all. There are indeed Amish goodies there but also a plethora of fancy foods, a mere three blocks from the new abode! I meant only to buy vegetables but left with other things I needn't ever eat.
Did more projects prior to attending D's friend's birthday party in Guam... er... Brooklyn. Sat on the roof and shivered. Devoured delicious vegetarian sandwiches and salads. Nursed a deadly daquiri and was eventually defeated by a fly's being stuck within. "Waiter, there's a fly stuck in my daquiri." Stared at a cute kit. "This cat is thin!" I said. What a stupid thing to say.
Home early yet again to sleep in preparation for D's race.
Talked to LBF and can't wait to see her. I canNOT wait. I cannot!
D won the biathlon! HE WON!!! My boy has no confidence regarding things about which he should have confidence. He has blind faith in the intentions of others, but none in his own abilities. So endearing. I smothered him with proud kisses as soon as I could. He said he thought of me for the entire race, saying he wanted to make his girl proud. I said I was proud no matter what. I'm proud that he rides a bike at all, dear god. I'm proud of his dedication to and enthusiasm for things. I'm proud of him for wearing his cute superhero bike outfit. I'm proud of him for getting up at 6 am. I'm proud to know him, proud to be with him, proud to be the person who makes him happy.
We went for lunch to celebrate. His suggestion that he start competing nationally and assertion that I will come to support him! promptly resulted in my having a meltdown about finances. "We can't live like this," I said. "We need a budget." "We need to prioritize." "We have spent an absurd amount of money this past month and we cannot get it back." He said "We will save it." I said "We will not, because we live in New York City. You can't save money here." We decided on no more eating out and no more popcorn at movies and fewer movies anyway and will make a list of possible vacation destinations because I really need a vacation. And a keyboard. And a filter for my lens. And lens cleaner. And more photo albums. And an alarm clock. And new sheets. And a coffee table. And a flash. And an external hard drive.
We stopped by to see David Blaine again.
We walked too much and didn't get curtains or sheets.
D napped while I did a long-overdue categorization of thousands of photos.
We interrupted eating and more eating with projects around the house. We hooked up the stereo in its final home. We stared at the walls and didn't hang anything up. We forgot to eat the corn. We watched Mrs. Henderson Presents and I gushed over Dame Judy. We are in desperate need of a vacation.
D is going on vacation this week. Work for him is not as much of an issue, nor is money, so he's off to sleep and swim and read and watch movies and mow lawns.
This means, for yours truly, that I will not be forced to do projects round-the-house for five whole days! Luxury. I am going to sleep and read and watch movies and sleep in the middle of the bed. This will be a good week.
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