There Is Time To Blog

There is time to blog because I am home "sick" with a no longer ingrown toenail. I went to the doctor's yesterday expecting a simple perscription for antibiotics to heal what I believed to be an infection, but no! Au revoir, toenail. LBF said "Oh my god! Have you seen what it looks like? It's going to be a bloody mess that looks like raw meat! You're toenail will be GONE! Did he take off the whole thing?" or something to that effect. I was worried, because I didn't know exactly what had happened because the doctor put up the little surgical curtain so I wouldn't be traumatized. It's only half missing and not terribly dramatic. It's high maintenance only because it involves soaking it three times a day and making a fancy wound dressing for the next ten days.

Now I'm home, feeling healthy and not really in any pain anymore. I am going to soak the foot today, and catch up on projects. And watch Screech on some show called "Dr. Keith." I think people watch these shows every day. I can't imagine.

Soon, however, I may not have anything to do with my days. D had his first interview yesterday and thinks it went well. They said he wouldn't have to start for a month, so this means the possibility of either working more here, or travelling! Exciting. Hopefully I'll be able to find some sort of temporary one month employment to occupy my days, or maybe I'll volunteer.

To catch up: Florida. I didn't have time to do my taxes. The visit was actually the perfect length - it started off rocky with my entering upon a lavish lunch involving meat and having various family members explain to my the ingredients available to me for a possible lunch. I didn't understand what this meant - was I supposed to cook something myself? Were they offering to cook for me? I am a person who is awkward in other people's kitchens - helping myself when I barely know the people, especially when the kitchen is enormous and I'd have to be interrupting THEIR lunch to ask them where various pots and pans are. I decided not to eat lunch at all (rather than make myself scrambled eggs while they ate), and ate instead an apple. D, my hero, found some secret bread stashed in the garage and made me a grilled cheese sandwich. After that it was smooth sailing - chatting, a nap, dinner (this time there was specially made tofu on the side, awww.....), bingo, sleeping too much, an entire day spent at Epcot Center just the two of us, more sleep, a nice long lunch of Vietnamese pancakes supplemented with herbs picked fresh from the garden, learning about Vietnamese wedding customs, more bingo, dinner, and then a delayed flight home after my fantasizing about becoming "estranged" from certain members of my own family who nearly sent me on a rampage after a phone call at the airport.

D's family is mellow, and I want to get used to that. Without great intimacy, I feel like there aren't as many expectations. This seems to me a better way to be. There's no drama. They just hang out without judging people, although D cautions me that people are always on their best behavior when there are non-family members around.

I only took photos at Epcot Center, and even those aren't too thrilling considering that we were, well, at Epcot Center.

This is the awesome water fountain (with the water that jumps in the air from pool to pool) near Journey to The Imagination that we loved when we were little kids. D loved it too (D' had never been to Epcot). I remembered exactly where it was and stood staring at it for what felt like an hour:



Kodak owns the pavilion into which Journey to The Imagination exits. It's a sensory experience - what would the world be like if photographs could evoke other senses? In this particular example, it was hearing sound when seeing a photograph:



This was a very high-tech photo laboratory involving the extremely high tech rainbow slinky:



We had lunch in the Mexico pavilion, across from the fake Chichen Itza:



Contrary to popular belief (or to rumors started by Father in the 80s in order to dissuade us from demanding Mickey Mouse ice cream on a stick while in The Magic Kingdom), food in Disney World is not drastically overpriced. I had a gigantic burrito with lettuce, tomato, sour cream, and salsa for $6.

There was a glassblower in the Mexico pavilion:



We watched him for about 15 minutes.





He was making turtles:



This China pavilion was awesome.



I wanted this dragon marionette:



I didn't buy him, however, because what am I going to do with any sort of marionette other than recreate the Lonely Goatherd scene from The Sound of Music?



One thing I realized being in Epcot Center was despite having been there three times prior, as a kid, I had never actually set foot in any of the pavilions. I guess the most we did was walk by, thus missing all of the fabulous shopping and snack-size museums. This makes sense, given that we were children and more concerned with going on rides.



This was a scale model of some of the soldiers found in a Chinese tomb. I guess in reality they stood 6 feet tall and there were about 60,000 of them.



There were smurfs for sale in the Germany pavilion. I didn't buy any of them, but I really wanted to buy the smurf at his desk with his laptop for Brother:



Tin toy robots in the Japan pavilion:



Fabulously packaged Japanese candies:





The Japanese have a mastery over packaging and what-is-cute, thus forcing you to want to buy every single thing. Our trip to the Japan pavilion only confirmed that we will do everything we can to take a trip to Japan within the next two years.



Japanese sodas:



I bought these Hello Kitty cookies as a consolation for not buying the Hello Kitty purse, bag, beach robe, stuffed kitty in kimono or ring:



D bought a Japanese soda that involves some sort of marble being pushed into the soda from the cap before you could drink it:



It caused a lot of confusion, but was worth it because the soda tasted like carbonated bubble gum:



We also visited the America pavilion (D had said "What would it be like if they had an America pavilion? A bunch of fat people walking around eating fast food?" Needless to say we bought a funnel cake with cherries on top in the America pavilion), the France pavilion (strawberry mousse!) and a couple other ones I'm not sure of because we didn't eat there. We also went on a few rides - Soarin', Honey I Shrunk the Audience, Test Track, Universe of Energy and whatever the ride is that's in the globe. Both the Universe of Energy (aka The Dinosaur Ride) and the globe ride broke down while we were on them. It was most surreal in the Universe of Energy, which involves a movie with Ellen Degeneres and Jamie Lee Curtis on Jeopardy with Alex Trebek. When the ride stopped, a woman got on the loud speaker and started describing to us what would be happening if the movie was still on. As in "Ellen would be writing for a while, Jamie Lee Curtis finished sooner, Alex says..." and so on. We had to be evacuated. It was insane.

After Epcot Center, we drove to downtown Disney with the exclusive purpose of going to the Lego store!



You could design and purchase three Lego minis for $9.99:





Best thing ever = a wall of Lego mini's:



D made a Lego Ninja:



I think the Lego Emergency Room is the funniest thing ever:



Don't they look delicious?



Outisde was a giant Lego T-Rex:



And giant Lego great white shark:



D was scared of them both. The best thing about these giant Lego sculptures is they design them to look like they're actually made of giant Legos.

Saving the best for last:



Lego NYC, complete with Lego King Kong.

We had a good time. The visit was the perfect length. I could have been there for one more day, but then that would have been too much. We'll be back in June for D's cousin's wedding, which will hopefully give us all a change to warm up to each other some more.

I should probably be soaking my foot now. I never thought I'd have to buy Epsom salts.

Have great weekends!

Mexico

I've been to Mexico and the Epcot Center version of Mexico in the last 6 months.

I bet you can't tell which one is the real Mexico!





Florida was actually quite pleasant and relaxing. More later when there is actually time to blog. When will there actually be time to blog? Never.

Taxes

Is it rude to do your taxes while visiting your potential future in-laws?

I don't see why it would be. What's the difference between reading eight books and doing taxes? There are no differences. Actually, I imagine I could do my taxes for 16 hours straight and not even be missed, so yes, I will bring my taxes to FL and check them off of the list. Woo. Hoo.

I'm off to Orlando tomorrow morning at the crack of dawn. I will be there, unnoticed, for three days. I am less than thrilled about this for a variety of reasons, the main one being that my time in NYC is limited and I don't want to spend what time remains in Orlando or anywhere else, really. Especially under these circumstances, but love is most important and you just have to do this sort of thing whether you like it or not. I am feeling particularly "not" with all that is going on - moving, uncertain future, wanting to spend time with people here (my family, in particular), the big day possibly happening on Tuesday but not finding out until Monday when I am in Orlando with people who couldn't care less about my existence.

I had too much tequila last night and when I crawled into bed, D took the opportunity to say "I know that you've been withdrawn lately and in a bad mood and I think it's probably because of what's going on with your family and I just want you to know that I'm here for you if you ever want to talk about things." He's so wonderful, so I didn't say what I truly wanted to say, which was that I'd be in an exponentially better mood once we returned from FL. In all honesty I just want to fast forward to the possibility of Tuesday so I can deal with things instead of dread them.

I hadn't anticipated that I'd be freaking out, and I can't freak out while around D's family because they, well, it's cultural, I know, and its not a culture of, well, feelings. They also obviously (thankfully) don't know what's going on, and I'm not going to tell them because they will be unresponsive and that will hurt my feelings even more.

I hate having secrets, and I hate having to pretend. I thought I'd feel stronger but seeing Father last week was more difficult than I'd anticipated. I keep seeing the scene, over and over again in my mind, where we all walked away while he got into his car and drove away by himself. It makes me want to cry every time. I guess I would rather be in MA than FL (although somehow not staying with anyone to whom I'm related unless it was Sister), but I'd rather be in NYC just crying this all out Just In Case.

Instead I'll be in FL staring at walls, catching up on phone calls, doing my taxes, reading books and magazines, taking long walks by myself, hopefully doing some photography, hopefully not playing more than 15 games of Phase 10, hopefully keeping my mind occupied where there's nothing to occupy my mind. We didn't get tickets to the Cirque because we didn't talk about the trip until this morning. We're not renting a car, which means we won't be going anywhere although we can borrow the car on Sunday to maybe go to Disney World. That could be fun. D's never been. I have nostalgia and can't decide if I want to ruin it or not.

I'm also getting sick, which is destroying any potential I have to psych myself up for this.

Anyway.

Have good weekends.

Until Tuesday...

I Am Reminded That I Never Finished Blogging About Portland....

... so here you go.

On our second day in Portland, D and I separated from Brother and drove around randomly in search of the coast. Everything from Day 2 was accidentally discovered as we didn't adhere at all to the trajectory D had outlined on the map.



Ummm....



... we found a place to buy guitars! And guns!

We were thrilled when we happened upon Cape Meares.







Cape Meares was very quiet and absolutely breathtaking.





There was a cool lighthouse.





There is a little forest/picnic area at Cape Meares. Here are some trees and also some more trees:





This is "The Octopus Tree" - the eight cancerous stumps are attributed to wind, but seriously, how is that possible? No other trees in the area had eight cancerous stumps.

















Cape Meares was gorgeous. We did a lot of skipping around and lying on the grass, enjoying the clean air. After walking around for about an hour, we decided to hit the road in search of food. You can imagine our ecstasy when we accidentally drove right into...



... the Tillamook Cheese Factory.

D and I are both insane for cheese, as well as for factories, thanks, on my part, to the saxophone factory segment on Sesame Street.



You can give yourself a tour of the factory for free. There are observation decks above the factory. Needless to say we spent about two hours staring down at the processes. It was amazing. Quite possibly the best thing ever.



I think that they actually make the cheese in the morning, so we weren't able to see that. We were only able to see the packaging of the cheese.





Yes, those are huge blocks of cheese.



You could sample cheese curd in the store.



The store has tons of cheese, as wells as gifts.



There is also Tillamook ice cream, but we didn't get to see that being made.



We did, however, try the pistachio (ew) and blueberry cheesecake flavored ice creams. The blueberry cheesecake flavored ice cream tasted exactly like blueberry cheesecake, and was therefore the most wonderful thing I have ever consumed.



On our way back to the hotel, we encountered more amazing coast.



But the best was yet to come. We accidentally came upon this...



... which turned out to be the beach from Goonies!



It's called Cannon Beach, and the tallest rock is around 250 feet tall.





It was low tide so we could walk right up to the rocks.







I think I was the happiest I've ever been on this beach. It was so majestic, so unexpected, so serene. It's been a year for amazing sights - Stonehenge, Chichen Itza, The Goonies beach. I am so lucky.





D found a starfish at the base of one of the rocks. It was hard to photograph since it was pitch black outside.





On Day 3 the weather was gross (normal for Portland, we were lucky to experience the abnormal weather the previous two days), so we went shopping. Brother had found this amazing store the day before:











I can't even begin to explain how happy My Little Ponies and Strawberry Shortcakes make me now. My recurrent nightmare as of late has been that I am rummaging through these old toys and wishing that I was a kid again. I'm not sure that I'll ever get over certain things, and I commend my subconscious for trying to protect me by transferring my angst onto the toys.

Post-shopping, we met DH for brunch at The Pancake House, which was crowded and lame, so he took us instead to a little vegan-friendly place downtown where I had an amazing tofu/garlic/herb scramble. We then went to some vintage clothing stores and ate more food, drove around the city for a bit, shopped, shopped some more (I bought the most amazing shirt for $20 and the most amazing dress for $43 - no tax! weee!), ate Lebanese food, and drove to the airport, where I instantly fell asleep in my chair.

Portland - a cute little city, but dreary. I don't think I could live there. I think the weather would get to me. The car-driving would get to me. The ocean and cheese factory job I would try, perhaps, would negate these things. Would I live there? If I had to. I wouldn't protest. The people were so very nice, hopeful, smiley. The coast, the forest, the food... all good. We had a great time.

I'm illiterate right now, if you couldn't tell. It's nearly 7:30 and I've been at work since 9:00 and NOTHING IS WORKING. Awesome.

So yeah. Portland. Awesome time had.

I need to get out of here.

Until tomorrow...

Ummm

D has a job interview. I guess this is really happening.

I'm excited, but the reality is setting in. Tuition paid, apartments being looked at, dinners being had as the clock ticks.

I feel like I move all the time.

Maybe this one will be permanent. I want something to be permanent. If its just him and not a place that's fine with me.

TV Again!

Oh, America's Next Top Model, you make me want to be the kind of person who remembers when shows that she likes are on TV.

Oh, the pleasure is guilty but I do not care! I think D was mortified to see me (a) watching TV and (b) watching ANTM.

It is now my mission to convert him. Mwa ha ha ha ha.

Ebony and Ivor-eeeee

Seeing your mother flirt = weird. Checking out ring fingers for wedding bands on behalf of your mother without her knowing it = even weirder.

The weekend was, well, chaos. I expected as much but I didn’t expect it to be as stressful as it was. It started off with an immediate attack of drama and toomuchinformation by Mother, resulting in my staying up all night rehearsing a mind speech of the “I really don’t think this is any of my business and I feel like we shouldn’t talk about it because I’d like to have a good time while I’m here…” nature that I never got to use, because the attack was, thankfully, momentary. We were well-behaved and happy for the remainder of our time together.

Mother was getting anxious about the time at 10:00 despite our having to be in Boston at 2:30, so I was all “Don’t worry – there’s plenty of time – please don’t create stress” etc. etc., so we leisurely consumed a lovely brunch at a rare privately owned restaurant in the area (best onion rings ever) and then found ourselves getting into the car at 2:15.

Curses! I then began creating stress as I had told C I’d be at his wedding early at 3:30 in order to get from him his video camera in order to tape the ceremony. It was 2:15 and D needed to shower and iron things, I needed to do my hair, and we both needed to change. Luckily I’d picked out the preferred shoes/dress combo prior to leaving (as I’d had to throw millions of things in a bag because we were late leaving NYC on Friday night too). We’d get to Somerville at 3:15 (best case scenario) and have all of ten minutes to do all of those things.

I chilled out, channeling my new chill self and trying desperately not to succumb to the melodrama surrounding the fact that I’d be ruining C’s wedding by not being there to tape it.

D and I prepared like pros, and were at the hotel by 3:45. I had a momentary panic as we walked into the hotel and I saw S, the best man, driving away. “Holy crap,” I said. “What if the ceremony isn’t here and it’s just the reception? OH MY GOD!” When we walked into the hotel, the thing at the front said that the reception was upstairs but there was no indication as to what was going on with the ceremony. Cursing my idiocy, I timidly asked the person behind the desk about the ceremony, and lo and behold, it was upstairs too. Thank you, hotel, for giving me a heart attack.

The ceremony – awesome. Personal, adorable, non-denominational, a mere 20 minutes. The reception – amazing. Equally personal and adorable, no throwing of the bouquet, no receiving line. It moved quickly, the bar was open, we were sitting with a bunch of awesome people who will hopefully be our new friends when we move. Best of all, no DJ. C basically DJ’d his own wedding. He knows his friends best, so he was able to steer the reception in certain directions. And when we thought of a song he didn’t have, he downloaded it from ITunes. It was brilliant. We danced like maniacs.

Best of all was C’s playing Eternal Flame for me as a birthday gift. My table swarmed around the bride and groom while C passed around the microphone so we could all sing karaoke-style.

Father picked us up, a la high school. He left us alone with Crazy Aunt and her newly purchased Mac Book Pro, and I didn’t sleep again due to the insanity that is Crazy Aunt and the fact that it was like 12 degrees in her apartment.

It’s hard to sleep on the floor on a cold air mattress when your host keeps the heat on 66 and it’s about 10 degrees outside and drafty in the living room. It’s even harder not to slug the host the following day when she mentions 12,000 times to whoever will listen how you rudely turned up the heat and caused her to have feverish nightmares in the middle of the night.

I am learning that I have a hard time feeling bad for people who demand that I feel bad for them.

She wouldn’t let it go, and I kept saying “Well, if it’s any consolation, I slept last night in three layers of clothes and my winter hat and got about three hours of sleep once D so kindly turned the heat up” and still she wouldn’t let it go.

The following day was more yelling and insanity as Crazy Aunt took over the plan of my going out to brunch with Father, Sister and D. The whole reason for my visit was to spend quality time with Father, Just In Case. I thought the four of us could go out and have a nice, quiet day on the town. Crazy Aunt, trying to be nice, offered instead to cook us brunch to save money and time waiting in lines. She then invited Mean Grandmother, guaranteeing that nobody would have a good time. There was screaming and antagonism and people being really mean to Father, and Crazy Aunt demanding that people eat multiple omelets and “SIT DOWN!” and “DON’T GO OUT THE FRONT DOOR TO GET THE BISCOTTI!” and “WHY CAN’T YOU HELP OUT AND GET THE SILVERWARE WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” (to which Father responded “You just told me to sit down” and she said “BUT STILL YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER!”) and “SIT DOWN MA!” and oh my god my head explodes just thinking about this.

Father was understandably moody. I don’t know how he deals with these people on top of everything else he has to deal with. He sadly asked me if I’d play piano. I am rusty as I’ve had zero time to practice in recent months, so I asked instead that he play and requested songs that I could sing along with. There were tears, of course, and I almost lost it while singing “Try To Remember” from The Fantasticks. Sister eventually appeared post-nap-attempt, and we broke out a random 80s song book and performed our lovely renditions of songs like “Glory of Love” and “Against All Odds.”

Crazy Aunt was up in our faces with her video camera, telling us to stop so she could re-shoot or to move because the shot wasn’t right, and I nearly had a celebrity/paparazzi moment where I swatted the camera because for the love of god leave me alone I am trying to enjoy some time with my family. It doesn’t always need to be a project. It doesn’t always need to be documented. And if it’s going to be documented, document what’s actually happening, not what you’re making happen.

And please stop interrupting.

No, I take it back. STOP INTERRUPTING.

They are all the same, and they make me crazy.

While we were singing, Brother appeared as a surprise for Father. More tears all around, on film, of course. I held it together because my happy/sad emotions were balanced out by my desire to rage against certain people and the camera, so the result was neutral.

I desperately wanted to get out of the house, and enjoy being Together. Crazy Aunt invited herself out for dinner with us, and I nearly cried. I just wanted time with Father, to see how he was doing without them yelling at him all the time. Luckily a friend of hers stopped by so she didn’t come. I think I did cry at this point out of relief.

We got into cars and headed to Central Square to check out Sister’s new apartment. While in the car, Sister (in the car with D and I) called Mother to tell her that The New Man would be coming to our Family Oscar Party, which had been organized by yours truly to provide to Mother some good, relaxed, authentic, conflict-free, drama-free fun. While Mother picked up the phone, Sister was mid-curse against Father, who was running yellow lights even though D was following him, thus causing D to run two red lights. Two reds in ten minutes! This caused Mother to ask “Who’s in the car with Father?” to which Sister responded “Brother!”

Drat. Surprise ruined. Mother likes nothing more than to have us All Together, and we’d orchestrated this whole master plan to surprise her but, alas, foiled by a weird question. Who asks that? Especially about their ex-husband? Why did she care? Sister felt bad, but seriously, she was caught off guard.

We ate a low-key low-intensity dinner at Miracle of Science, which I thought would be nice as its menu looks like the periodic table and Father digs that sort of thing. He was quiet, reserved. He said “I’m learning to listen more” when I asked him what was wrong.

We left him at his car and tried not to be too sad. I gave him a really big hug, Just In Case. It’s hard to leave the sad parent for the happy parent, even when you know they both need you.

We met up with Sister and The New Man at the condo, where Mother had prepared a lavish feast for 12 million people even though there were only six of us (two of those in attendance unplanned). She’d made two baked bries (is brie or bries the plural of brie?), spinach artichoke dip (the full recipe even though I’d recommended that she make half), asparagus poppers (like 30 of them), grape nut custard (aka crack), banana bread, and chocolate chip cookies.

She was so happy. She was low stress. She is learning that she can have fun and that it doesn’t need to be a drama when people come over. She stayed up for the whole thing! I am so proud. We bashed the outfits, particularly Anne Hathaway, and meticulously graded our ballots. Sure, people made fun of the ballots at first but oh the joy they bring to the Oscar party! Mother kept saying “I’ve never seen Cate Blanchett with a man…” and “What does Leo have to do to GET AN OSCAR?” We screamed when Al appeared, we sighed when Clive walked onto the stage, and laughed at Will Ferrell.

We’d planned to spend more time with her on Monday (and to eat more of the best onion rings ever) but snow interfered with our plans. We decided to leave MA early and were greeted with the most traffic-less trip home ever. Maybe because it was Monday? Maybe because people were freaked out about the snow? Regardless, we were back in NYC by 4:00 and napping by 6:00 to recover from many sleepless nights in a row.

I was stressed, folks. I was stressed because as I get older, I realize that many people in my life cause me stress. As Brother said in the car on Monday “What they don’t understand is that we try to lead a mellow life…”

I do try to lead a mellow life. It pains me that it takes effort for me to be mellow, as I was raised in an environment of hysteria. Mother had her gall bladder out yesterday. I was anxiously awaiting the call to make sure that everything would be ok (which I knew it would be – again, hysteria about signing life insurance policies because it is highly likely that one will die while having a gall stone removed, etc. – if I ever have children I will raise them not to be alarmists – they will be so relaxed, I can’t wait, but then maybe they will think that I don’t care), and picked up the phone when it rang. I said “What’s the good word?” to Grandmother, who then proceeded to rant about how she had been waiting and waiting and waiting in the waiting room, assuming that Mother was dead because she hadn’t heard anything and they didn’t tell her anything! and when they finally appeared they said “We didn’t know you were here! She’s been in recovery for an hour, and everything’s fine!” and she said “how could they keep me waiting? I was so worried!” and I had to be like “OK, but what of the gall bladder?” and she’s all exasperated and you know what? The gall stone was the size of a freaking golf ball and you know what? The doctor said that Mother is going to feel so much better and you know what? This is GOOD NEWS and we should not be negative. She’s FINE. And you know what else? This is not about you. It just isn’t. Stop making drama. Stop being so put out. Say “We’re so relieved and happy that she’s going to feel better.” I am so happy for Mother because she’s been in a lot of confusing pain, and she is going to feel much better now. Mother has a good attitude too, and Grandmother seemed to have a better attitude when I spoke with her later in the day, but seriously. Don’t stress me out when there’s good news. It’s good news! Please let it be good!

Things like this prevent me from leading a mellow life.

It is no wonder than I am insecure. Everything is scary, everything is wrong.

This is what being home does to me. I freeze and have ten minute conversations about what will happen with three minutes of time and everything is serious and important and nobody knows how to just enjoy themselves.

But I think that the important people are learning to relax, enjoy life for what it is, and not fear it for what it isn’t.

The best moments of the weekend were singing with Father and Sister and watching the Oscars. These moments were people having fun, and letting the other things go. It’s possible to have fun. It’s possible to just exist. It’s possible to enjoy one another without being critical or mean or nervous or planned.

This is what I want my life to be, and I am bitchy enough to eliminate the things that prevent my life from being this way.

Putting Me In A Better Mood...

... is the fact that Mel Brooks is turning Young Frankenstein into a musical, complete with black and white set. I can't contain my excitement. I really can't.

My New Favorite Thing

... is Amos singing Mr. Cellophane in Chicago. Best. Musical moment. EVER.

D took me to see Chicago last night for my birthday. He also surprised me this morning with tulips on my desk at work, which is wonderful except that it draws attention to the fact that it is my birthday and that I have turned, ahem, 31.

I woke up this morning and when D said "Happy birthday" I said "Oh my god, only four more years..." Leave it to the PMS to make me think of fertility as my first thought in the morning.

I'm still grumpy, and I'd like not to be given that there are lovely pink tulips next to me. I must admit that they help. Also helpful is a high school student group filming what seems to be a ninja/knight dance-off short on the roof of the building next to us. Needless to say we've been watching all morning. I will miss this sort of impromptu entertainment when I no longer live in NYC.

I was so grumpy last night that I nearly exploded when I discovered that D put the extra toilet paper not in the bathroom, but rather in his clothes closet, and even worse, on a shelf that I cannot reach. Who does that, especially when we're down to nearly the last ply!?! I should not have to climb on a chair to get toilet paper in emergency situations, especially when we have a designated spot in the bathroom for extra toilet paper.

Yes, grumpy. I really can't believe I've turned 31. Pressure, folks. Biological pressure. I'm not digging this. I feel this minor panic, like "FIGURE SHIT OUT THIS MINUTE" because, seriously, time is running out. Last night I said "You know what sucks about having kids? You never get to be alone." My grumpiness makes me want to crawl into a hole and not be spoken to, interacted with, or looked upon. I kept thinking "Imagine having PMS like this and having a child. I will be a horrible mother." D said the right thing with "Probably when you have kids you don't want to be alone, and you want to be with the kid all the time." Probably. Maybe PMS gets better once your hormones have gone all crazy during pregnancy.

I don't know.

Here I am complaining about being old, and my only complaint about Chicago was that Bebe Neuworth is too old to play Roxy. She looks amazing and she did a great job, but the wrong casting. This is a progressive move but it just didn't work. Oh, I am vile today.

I just have to keep thinking of Mr. Cellophane.

Grouch

I am very grumpy today. The hormones are to be blamed for this one.

The hormones, along with the man who practices opera at 6:00 am every day. I understand that opera needs to be practiced, but must it wake me every day? He disappeared for a while and recently resurfaced. He must have been on tour or something. I hope he gets another job soon because, really, I can't wake up to this every morning.

There's also the fact that the exterminator appeared this morning at 7:00 am, wanting to spray the apartment. It is lovely that he wants to exterminate our apartment, but might we be given any sort of notice? Again, exterminations need to occur at times when people are actually around to let the exterminator into the apartment, but must they do it unannounced? My last building had the decency to post a flyer when the exterminator was coming.

There's also the fact that we can't regulate the temperature of the apartment. When its really cold out, it is a mere 57 degrees inside the apartment. When the weather is weird (like it is now), it gets wicked hot. Last night it got up to 78.2 degrees. This, I think, is fan weather, but the fans are no longer in the windows. I opened the window for a few hours and this helped, but by this morning it was an inferno again.

Forces are conspiring against me, preventing me from sleeping when I would very much like to sleep. I wanted to sleep alot last night in preparation for my big date with D tonight. We are going out for dinner to celebrate my birthday and then to see Chicago. I am very excited, but I'd be more excited if I slept more.

In an effort to make myself feel better, I have scheduled my complimentary bang trim for tomorrow afternoon. Previously I have felt that a complimentary bang trim was a bit too luxurious for me - like bang trims are scheduled only by Ladies Who Lunch etc. But oh how quickly this particular set of bangs has grown, and I am going to a wedding this weekend and would also like to be able to see cells with the microscope. I think it is ok for me to have a bang trim given how much I spent on the haircut which, incidentally, was worth every penny.

Also contributing to my vile mood are people who talk VERY LOUDLY IN THE LUNCHROOM ABOUT THINGS LIKE STRING BIKINIS AND THEIR WEDDINGS, as though everyone in the entire company wants to hear about these things. All I want to do is read my magazine in peace. I would like to relax. I would like not to hear about how much the wedding gown weighs and the extravagant honeymoon options and oh how very exhausting it is to have rich parents and in-laws and fiance and the bridesmaids you wouldn't believe which ones are the complainers etc. I want to strangle everyone. Maybe I want to declare at the top of my lungs "Nobody cares about your stupid wedding! There are more important things going on in the world. There is a war. There is an even more giant squid. Britney has checked back into rehab. And I imagine there are other things going on but I wouldn't know because your talking is preventing me from reading the paper!!!!"

See? Grumpy.

But there are more important things going on in the world, and lately my philosophy has been that I am insignificant and nothing involving my little life is really worth getting worked up over. Everything will work itself out one way or another. My life is a product of the choices I've made and the choices I will make, and its up to me to react or not react to the things around me that are out of my control. I'm choosing to not react, except, of course, when the hormones are being uncooperative. Which they are right now.

I guess one thing that makes me happy is that my super happy little pink and yellow umbrella impulse buy fits hidden inside my equally little purse.

I also ordered headphones yesterday. I am looking forward to their arrival and putting them over my ears to cancel out the noise from the lunchroom.

Blaze

Oh Ghostrider The Movie, I knew you would be bad, but I never could have imagined that you would be that bad. Oh my.

Medications

Guess what I did last night?

I went home after work and... watched TV!

I don't think I've watched TV in six months. I realized that I miss watching the news. I am not a person who is able to absorb and retain news through reading. I am much better at news via listening, and even better via watching. I heart watching the news. I wish I could always be home by 6:30 to catch world news. Yes, I could watch the local news later in the evening when I'm available, but local news is lame.

I also managed to watch various entertainment shows and oh my. Britney's bald head and ongoing meltdown! Brangelina and the kids! Brad posing shirtless! Anna Nicole's bodyguard! Christie Brinkely at some sort of school benefit on Long Island! Jenna Elfman wicked pregnant! I wish I could remember all news as well as I remember ridiculous entertainment gossip.

Another noteworthy thing that has happened since the last time I watched the news is that nearly all of the ads during the nightly news were for medication. I guess adults want to buy medication. Right.

I transitioned into watching cooking shows on some local channel and got really excited about everything. If I had the Food Network I'd watch nothing else. No, that's not true. I'd watch The History Channel and The Discovery Channel and CNN. Sometimes I want cable. I think I'd actually save money by paying for cable since I probably wouldn't go out as much. Maybe we'll get cable in MA, if we ever move to MA, which with each passing day seems less and less likely. How irresponsible can we really be? I don't yet know the answer to this question.

Speaking of MA, I think I will look at apartments now. Until tomorrow...

I Heart You, Nice People at the Nice Karaoke Place

I am working today by choice. Work has shifted to a floating-holiday policy. If you don't want to work on President's Day, don't! If you do, take another day off some other time. Sweet. I will be taking next Monday off to recover from the Oscars and drive back from MA after what will hopefully be a fun weekend devoid of any sort of drama.

I love being at work when nobody is around. The heightened productivity! The guiltlessness of listening to your own music! The blogging! The accomplishments!

The weekend turned out in splendid fashion. Friday night’s soiree at the apartment was even smaller than I’d anticipated, but I didn’t care because there was food and drinks and dancing. We were trashed by the time we piled into cabs and cars (cars!) for karaoke. Sister arrived late with The New Man and he was kind enough to cart our drunken asses down to karaoke. I’m sure we were a terrible embarrassment, but I’m also sure he warmed us to it as the weekend progressed.

Karaoke? Awesome. This new place is the best thing ever. They didn’t overcharge us. As far as I can tell, they didn’t even include tax. We tried to leave a tip but they were so anxious for us to leave that they said “No, don’t worry!” They were so nice. I would go back in a second. In fact, I want to go back repeatedly to reward the rarity that is kindness in customer service in NYC. Thank you, IBop, for restoring my faith in the karaoke way. It was bring your own so we were all, of course, a mess. It’s amazing how much alcohol ten people can consume when karaoke is involved. We inhaled popcorn and Multi Grain Tostitos (recipient of the Leah Lar Award for Best New Chip That Kicks the Crap Out of the Original Chip Upon Which It Is Based) and salsa and something else, I can’t quite remember. There was a lot of falling and knocking over of beverages and snacks. There was a lot of 80’s. Since we were a reasonably sized group, we had room to dance. It was lovely.

We stayed until around 3:30, and I came home and cleaned the apartment because I had also consumed too much caffeine and was bursting with energy. I think we all went to bed at around 4:30, but I was up until 7:00 because D snores even more when drunk. I actually got belligerent at one point, because his body is also more rock-like and he cannot be rolled over. I also couldn’t get “Milkshake” out of my head, because it was the last karaoke song of the evening. Wait. Maybe it was “Cry Me A River.” I can’t be expected to remember these things.

On Saturday we slept until around noon, then headed to Vynl for the most gratifying brunch ever. I’ve eaten there 12,000 times and never noticed that they have eggs florentine on the menu! I was thrilled, because my hangover craving tends to be eggs florentine. Back at the apartment, we hung out and read and relaxed and then Brother hung out for an hour and a half or so, during which we watched the beautiful restored version of “The Last Unicorn.”

After he left, we napped, and then headed out for Ethiopian food after playing some games on the computer and more relaxing. The dinner, of course, ended up reminding me of the poor customer service in NYC. I’ve been to this place a million times and have split the combination platter. After waiting at least half an hour to be served, we ordered two combination platters (for four people) and an appetizer, and the waitress was all “For four people you have to order at least three entrees” and we were all “Uhhh…” and we had to think about it, and I wanted to leave because (a) it was bring-your-own and we didn’t know and were disappointed because we wanted honey wine and (b) there was no indication of a minimum order on the menu and (c) we specifically decided on Ethiopian because we wanted to split things so as to have a light dinner and (d) I hate ordering food that I don’t want. We cancelled the appetizer order and ordered another entrée, and then waited another hour for the food to arrive (while the waitress in the meantime hung out with her boyfriend at the bar and ate her own food – hmph). We were all a bit irritable as it was 10:30 and our blood sugar wasn’t doing too well. Needless to say we inhaled it when it arrived, and all was forgotten because it was so darn good.

I didn’t go dancing because the eggs florentine and I hadn’t gotten along earlier in the day, and I hadn’t got much sleep the night before. I read a bit and slept 9-ish hours. Bliss.

On Sunday we ate again (delicious brioche french toast stuffed with mascarpone and spiced apple, topped with berries!) and said goodbye to Sister and The New Man. I can’t wait to live closer to her. We missed “Breach” so killed time shopping, and then saw the next showing. We washed sheets and towels and made the apartment sparkle, and then I talked to Mother to give her the scoop. I stayed up too late, and am looking forward to reading and not having any sort of agenda tonight. Nothing will be checked off the list tonight, and I couldn’t care less.

Until tomorrow…

Red Bull

My trip to the post office last night was for a delicious little treat known as the 25th Anniversary Special Release of The Last Unicorn on DVD. Thank you, Brother. We used to watch this non-stop. I can't believe it was 25 years ago. I can't believe how time has flown. I can't believe that the music is by America and I had no idea.

***

Have you seen this? I don't even know what to think. I go from feeling heartbroken (our poor boys) to immensely pissed off (because I can't believe that this is still going on) to feeling uplifted (because there is true love in this world). These two have a long road ahead of them and I wish them them the best.

***

I am craving moshi and am hoping that it will magically appear at my apartment tonight. D is good at finding things.

***

I hope karaoke doesn't turn into a mess tonight like it did last time.

***

I had a wonderful conversation last night that undid many bad things. Things are settling down, and I don't feel uncomfortable anymore. I am proud that she's letting herself feel the way she feels instead of allowing others to influence her. I am happy she's being herself. I hated it more than anything when she wasn't, and now I can explain it to her and she understands.

***

Many people are bored at work today.

***

I want it to be 8:00 now!

***

Have good weekends!

Sobbing Idiot

We ended up seeing Dreamgirls last night because we were dismissed early from work! Woo! The city was a blanket of gray snow, like some sort of weird ashen post-apocalypse from Terminator.

I don't know what is wrong with me lately, but I cry during movies. During the big Jennifer Hudson scene, I sobbed to the point where I was choking and actually couldn't see through the tears. You know, snorting, causing a scene, etc. I guess the idea of love lost is a bit much to handle on Valentine's Day.

I also think I have many emotions that I'm choosing to regularly ignore. This cause them to surface at weird times, such as during movies starring Beyonce, who wasn't nearly as annoying as I'd anticipated.

***

I have to pick something up at the post office and I don't know what it is. I don't see why they can't tell me, at the very least, the size of it over the phone. I have to stop by Food Emporium post-post office to buy round 1 of snacks for the party tomorrow, and I need to know if this will be possible while carrying whatever awaits me at the post office. You would think it would be in their best interest for me to not wait in line for an hour when there's no chance of my being able to carry whatever the package is. I don't know. It's probably a magazine or something.

***

I've decided not to cook anything for the party (other than carmelizing some strawberries and melting brie), since it is going to be short and since it's my birthday and I won't cook if I don't want to. It's too cold. I'm too lazy. There's too much going on.

***

It's cold out. Real cold. And windy. And annoying, because there's mad traffic outside and they won't be quiet. Stop with the honking! You are warm in your cars! I don't want to hear it!

***

Sister is coming tomorrow night with The New Man and I can't contain my excitement. I just can't. I will be useless at work tomorrow because of the anticipation. We will have much fun! Drinks! Karaoke! Tapas! Tofu cheesecake! Dancing! Movies! Yeah! Apparently he is excited as well, thus proving, before even meeting him, that he will be better than the other one.

***

Anyone have a good suggestion for a sauce to put over gorgonzola ravioli? Thanks!

Valentine

It is positively vile outside but I do not care, because I finally got to use the new umbrella. And what luck! I got to try the new boots at the same time. Both = success! I am warm, dry, and cute.

We've been wishing for snow and when we finally get it, it instantly turns to brown slush. Luckily we got to witness a bit of it last night before the weather turned ghastly.

Last night's "let's just stay for an hour" morphed into 5 hours of complete drunkenness. I choked up when I said "good-bye" to him (seeing his face was enough to reduce all of we girls to blubbering idiots) and choked up even more when I considered saying good-bye to everyone. It's never the job itself that you miss. People have been leaving at an alarming rate, we have one of these a week it seems, and they're always shared. Mine will be soon, shared, and messy. I'll only be a few hours away but it won't be the same. There will be no mass debauchery. I know I'm not important enough to merit a Friday night gathering when I announce "I'm going to be in NYC! Everyone come play!"

Things change, and I have to remind myself that they are changing for the better and this sort of thing is normal. I don't miss non-work friends, because those friends stay in your life. Work-friends are work-friends, and when work is removed from the equation sometimes it sometimes doesn't work. It's a natural progression, but still sad.

Last night was so very fun. One of the most fun nights I've had in NYC. We've all been under too much stress, and we needed to all be together and be insane. We ordered pizzas and devoured them within seconds. We gossipped about the people who weren't there. We learned new things about people who were. We gushed with affection and brought certain things to an end. I wonder if he knows how his leaving affects so many things.

The girls were greeted by Valentine candies this morning. We couldn't solve the mystery because normally we'd assume that he left them.

It feels good to be hung over (I would give a limb right now for scrambled eggs). I feel like this whole saving-money-thing has prevented me from having fun. As someone said last night, one should celebrate constantly during one's birthday month and with this I agree!

D and I were going to go out tonight. In the past D has been anti-Valentine's Day. Well, not anti-Valentine's Day but anti-going-out-when-everyone's-going-out. We'd made no plans and agreed not to do anything, but yesterday he called and said "There are all these things going on tomorrow night - do you want to go to any of them?"

This resulted in a weird conversation where I was like "Well, do you?" and he'd be like "I just want you to be happy - when you're happy, I'm happy" and I was like "Well, I don't really want to do any of those things but if you're asking me out on a date because you want to do them, I totally want to go, because if going would make you happy, then that's what I want." We're such idiots. It's not that I didn't want to go to any of them - I just knew I'd be feeling a little woozy from the night before and wouldn't necessarily want to be out late, spending money, drinking again, etc. I said "Well, if you want me to be happy, then I would like you to come to see Dreamgirls with me and maybe we can go out for dinner beforehand." He got very excited (!) and made plans. It was adorable. I think he must secretly like Valentine's Day, because all previous attempts to get him to see Dreamgirls with me have failed miserably.

Now, however, I am tired and the weather is grotesque and I didn't do laundry last night, and I need to clean the apartment and probably get much sleep tonight in preparation for the weekend's festivities - party at the apartment on Friday, karaoke, tapas and hopefully vegetarian cheesecake and dancing on Saturday - and we can go to Dreamgirls whenever we want. I think he's disappointed. I mentioned today that I can finally take a normal length lunch (lately I've been doing ten minute lunches because I've been so busy), and he was like "Oh! Do you want to go somewhere? What about this? What about that?" He didn't realize that by normal I meant I would be eating for a half hour (most people here lunch for hours), but how cute is he? He's adorable. I can't stand it.

I guess that's what Valentine's Day is about. It's not candy or flowers or poems. It's seeing your boyrfiend, who you live with, want to spend time with you and make you happy. And wanting to make him happy.

I'm so lucky.

Oh. And pretend I'm sending cute cyber-Valentine's to you. Thanks for reading, if anyone's still out there.

Worse

On days like these I worry about not having an office to go to. Freelancing is awesome for flexibility, but maybe flexibility sucks when you don't have something constant in your life. I wonder if I'll miss the occasional drunken lunch with soon-to-be-gone coworkers. I wonder if I'll care about anyone professionally.

I had too much wine, and am thus relaxed and stress-free.

My alleged birthday party is this weekend and it seems like nobody can come because of the President's Day conflict, which is terribly ironic given that as a child I always had this issue but this year my birthday is not on president's day weekend but I still have to celebrate it then because of the potential wedding conflict.

The weekend was busy but good. Friday night was dinner and drinks with D and MY. A coconut martini and key lime pie martini were unplanned but necessary. Saturday was Little Children with R followed by aimless wandering in midtown and then cookies and photos at ICP. R and I met up with D and coordinated a spontaneous fondue dinner party with too much wine, after which I met up with NR for free Lilly Allen at Webster Hall. We met up with D in the East Village and did some minor socializing, then went to another function in the East Village where we talked some more. I was tired and lacking in plans and decided to go home. I hadn't taken a cab in forever. I guess I really am saving money. Sunday was Notes on a Scandal with D and then lunch with E and then errands and then road trip to sad NJ Target and then cold-caused exhaustion.

Tonight - more drinks! Yeah! So sad to say farewell to someone who makes your days better. He's off to brighter places and a better future, so I am sad for me but thrilled for him. Things like this are finite - I'm never going to see him again, and I don't like that. Things will be different here with him gone. They will be worse, wrong.

Such is life, such is adulthood. You're less deluded with more years of experience.

I think I need more wine.

Until tomorrow...