did i ever tell you, you're my HERO(E)...

not that i really wanted to give ole bette a shout out this morning, i was just pondering the awesome that is 'heroes' and wanting to share that i'd completely caught up on this season's episodes via nbc.com and the worst stop and go media player i've ever experienced in my life... but really, it's worth it. Milo is delicious and i'm a big fan of all this no-shirt business that they've got him doing thus far. don't watch 'heroes' with me... all i do is jump on the couch (or bed if i'm watching in my own room) and scream 'where's peter!!?' over and over again until he comes back on screen. and i thought my prisonbreak crush was bad... i don't even watch that show anymore.

hello milo (who looks better than this pic since he buzzed his hair):



for all of you keeping track, i am officially not pregnant. i've been on birth control since i was fourteen years old (for cramp maintenance not b/c i'm uber slutty, spank you very much), so being three days late is a complete oddity for me. that ended this morning, so we can go back to our regularly scheduled programming. the one where i sleep alone and don't participate in any activities in which i'd find myself in this situation again. did that make sense? i swear i'm babbling but it might just be my uterus yelling via my typing fingers. they're all consipiring against me, i tell you... my vicious body parts.

carry on...

it's a constant reminder really... no... really!

i consider myself to be borderline computer savvy and above average when it comes to the world of technology. i mean, my mother always asks me to program her remotes, and show her how to use email systems, etc... so i'm a total pro right? sometimes... not so much.

i have some pretty massive computer geeks in my friend basket too, so you'd think that it would sink in. and some of it has... i know some tricksie little tools.

anyway, i was having some issues with my upgraded pc at work and sent a ticket in to the help desk... and upon inspection of the 'ticket xxxoxox295 has been opened' (and yes somehow that became hugs and kisses ticket but whatever) i realized that my original email had been bounced around between three or four upper level IT managers asking 'do you have any idea what tara is talking about?' the answer, obv, is NO... they did not.

so i emailed one of the originators of the email strain to say 'it is entirely possible that i am retarded... so am i?'... and he called to explain that i was, in fact, crazy. all of my assumptions about why my computer wasn't functioning properly: totally in my own head. makes a girl feel special, you know? and by special i DO mean that a short yellow bus is coming to take me to school.

bollocks.

the mighty will eventually fall...

i am one of those people that are prone to random mishaps... you'd think someone that has been dancing for most of their lives would have the grace associated with gliding freely throughout the world without food disasters and the like, but i am just not one of those people. we all know about my ongoing battle with yogurt containers (especially when it's a pink yogurt)... but i'm bringing this up because my morning latte is sitting between my arms as i type this, and i'm forgetting what it was that i was going to say, because i'm convinced that at any moment, one wrist will have a spasm, and i will have spilled this latte all over myself. i mean, i'm wearing beiges and khakis today, but a brown lap stain probably wouldn't pull the ensem together, if you know what i'm saying.

i need hand lotion... hold please.

ah much better. what is it about the soap in public restrooms that just wants to strip the flesh off of your body? moving on.

my whole point of today's entry... regardless of how high and mighty a person might feel (and mind you, i very rarely have grandious notions of excellence about myself... due to the aforementioned battle with yogurt containers) there are instances in life that remind us that we are, in fact, fallible... and aren't as ego-worthy as we might expect ourselves to be (not me, mind you... but some people).

here are my examples for today:

1. the end of the deodorant stick. no matter how graceful you are trying to be, the mini sliver that is left is going to make you feel ridiculous as you try to apply even the thinnest of layers. you lean over slightly to help with the application, you might use part of a finger to keep the sliver on the stick, you might use a finger to smear the actual deod onto your body (i haven't done this yet but i've heard other people speak of resorting to this method), or you simply place your armpit over the stick and sort of smash it up in there, cutting yourself with the plastic of the container... and hope for the best. at any given moment, there is a 97% chance that the sliver is going to fall off the stick and land on the floor. and b/c it's just you in the bathroom, and you'll be the only person to know, you scoop the sliver back off of the floor, try and balance it back on the top of the stick, pull off any unassuming pieces of lint or hair from the floor, and attempt steps one through twelve again. either way... i'm STILL left feeling completely inadequate as i will myself to remember to buy more deodorant during my lunch break today. will i? probably not.

2. lately i have been fighting with my watch. well not exactly fighting... but we've definitely been having some sort of misunderstanding. for no reason whatsoever, it will suddenly be 45 minutes slow. this is not some sort of 'and so it was that a wristwatch saved harold crick' moment... although if i suddenly start hearing emma thompson narrate my life... actually what i was about to say wasn't even true. i was GOING to say that i'd freak out, but really, i'd be beyond ecstatic. how could i not? i adore emma thompson. anyway, my watch battery is fine, and i don't feel like i'm snagging the winding mechanism on anything, but i think it's interesting that i only notice that my watch is off after 45 minutes. no more... no less.

i had more to say... but i've just spent the last ten minutes listening to people babble at each other in my office as they wait to go into a meeting in another room. and have subsequently lost my train of thought.

this latte is delicious though... and i'm craving some yogurt.

i don't care what you do, just please stop showing me the lipstick...

my roommate's dog has a crush on me. his name is eden (yes i know), and he's a chihuahuahuhauhauaha (or however the hell you spell that horrendous word).
he whimpers, he shakes uncontrollably, and he twirls around in fast little circles when he thinks that someone is about to give him attention.

he also (though i have no idea why) gets visibly "excited" anytime i get near him. it completely (and i mean completely) grosses me out. for some reason, i've managed to avoid the oddities that go along with having male dogs (being mostly a cat owner), so i was ill-prepared for what this dog would do to me.

apparently he's never been neutered, so he humps other people's feet... but not me... he tries to lick my feet and then show me the lipstick. FOUL.

my roommate was out of town for about ten days a little bit ago, and i was trying really hard to be nice to the dog, and give him little pets on the head, etc... and one saturday afternoon, upon realizing that i'd been ignoring the dog for many many hours, i decided to allow the dog into my room and up onto my bed while i relaxed and watched a movie.

he seemed to be quieting down and watching the movie as well, until i looked down to see him going to town on himself with the biggest boner i've ever seen on a dog. i'm pretty sure that my neighbors thought i was being attacked due to the yelp that i screamed, but i threw the dog down the hall and immediately went into the bathroom to wash my hands... twice.

seriously. why does this creep me out so much? now i really can't go anywhere near the dog. i keep peeking to see if the lipstick is out...and when i'm around... oh it's out baby.

anyone else?? or is it just me?

a date with myself and other tidbits of "business"

i really do have odd names for everything... it's not an intentional thing that i do with language, i just put words together in bizarre ways... it's sort of my thing. i like having a thing, or things... depending on how oddball i'm feeling.

last night, after a week filled with responsibilities, i decided to put off all work and just have a date with myself. i got home and instantly put on the jams, popped 'stranger than fiction' into the dvd player, put on a pot of boiling water for my one artichoke (cooking for one will be a whining topic for another day.. when i actually feel like whining of course), got online to order my freshdirect for today, and settled in.

i'm in the final countdown to girl time, and who knows if other women have this 'problem' but i tend to get a little fiesty (will fiester than usual, let's be honest) during the last three days before armageddon. needless to say, i decided to really have a date with myself... so i checked the arti... aaaaaand took care of business. i am not a ride the wave, twelve hour sexcapade, multi orgasmic individual. i'm a one massive, smack the wall, yell your name (if applicable, i have yet to actually yell my own name, but might as well have in this instance) kind of person... and then, please leave me alone. i won't be able to form words, i don't reeaaaally want to cuddle, please lord just let me relish. anyway, last night... for the first time in my ENTIRE life... i gave myself TWO. yes people, you heard me correctly, I HAD TWO IN A ROW!!!

i have girlfriends that like to sort of brag in the tellings of their sexcapades, and how many times they finished and all that la la la. and i've never been jealous, b/c i've always been supremely happy with my big one (as opposed to their smaller many)... but i have to tell you, i was rather a big fan of the multi-BONANZA that was my date with myself.

i should date me more often.

in other news, a guy that i went out on a date with last week (aka rode the motorcycle with), has decided to send me a picture of his business. as a sort of, here's what you're in for kind of a thing. except this particular image that he sent me is of another girls face about to give HIS business the business. now why does this turn me off? hmmmmmmm. i'm all for sexy time, and a little pre naughty talk to get a person excited for the actual business... but really, you ruin the surprise. and if you are going to blatantly push your agenda for the business, i'm going to lose interest in you faster than you can take off your clothes. and in this man's case, i'm going to assume that with that much practice, he's got that down to a science.

cheers.

my life IS stranger than fiction...

i know i'm being uber wordy today, i just can't help it. i have rather groundbreaking news to tell you all about tomorrow, but i just got done watching 'stranger than fiction' for the third time in three days, and i'm left with such a joyful feeling of hope that i'd like to put the closing monologue of the movie down on paper (computer screen) to remember it and refer back when i need a moment's pause:

As Harold took a bite of Bavarian sugar cookie, he finally felt as if everything was going to be ok. Sometimes, when we lose ourselves in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tragedy, we can thank God for Bavarian sugar cookies. And, fortunately, when there aren't any cookies, we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin, or a kind and loving gesture, or subtle encouragement, or a loving embrace, or an offer of comfort, not to mention hospital gurneys and nose plugs, an uneaten Danish, soft-spoken secrets, and Fender Stratocasters, and maybe the occasional piece of fiction. And we must remember that all these things, the nuances, the anomalies, the subtleties, which we assume only accessorize our days, are effective for a much larger and nobler cause. They are here to save our lives. I know the idea seems strange, but I also know that it just so happens to be true. And, so it was, a wristwatch saved Harold Crick.

the letter j is my nemesis... literally

i dont know what it is about the letter j and it's ability to just tear me to pieces. every emotional breakdown i've had, because of a break up or a relationship gone bad, has mostly had to do with the guy having a name that started with a J (ironically, my best friend's name starts with j... so this is the universe's way of saying that i should really be a lesbian.. bygones).

it happened... AGAIN! even in the briefest of interludes i met a man in this city that was actually interesting, and good looking, and talented.. and passionate about so many things... i was actually excited to get to know him. the first week = magic. three great dates and many hours spent together talking, eating, watching movies, and just getting down to the good stuff. week two = the antithesis and the slow fade. if you don't know me then you aren't fully aware of my 'isms', but the slow fade is something i came up with a few years ago to coin a man's sudden failure to communicate... and slowly and quietly slip out of your life without one of those communicative discussions that could be quite simple if someone just said 'it's too fast' or 'i'm not really into you' or 'i'm an idiot and want to be with someone skinnier and with less of a sense of humor'. who knows what goes on inside of a man's brain, but the 180 slow retreat is the most cowardly move i've ever been privvy to. and yet...it happens to me alot. not a LOT, mind you. but i find that the men i meet just can't seem to be honest about what's going on in their little brains.

and so i'm left a little curious, and a lot of wounded... sort of sad, and pretending that someone i've known for 2.5 weeks doesn't have the capability of reducing me to tears by simply deciding that he's not as excited about me as he was when we first met.

alas... the letter j... you've thwarted me again.
check mate.

dactyl endeavors to battle the flu...again and again and again.

since my lungs have been undergoing a constant battle with the east coast air quality and germ plague, i decided to bite the bullet and succomb to the pseudo-spam-yet-from-human-resources pleas of a free flu shot. i made the trip up to the appropriate floor five times, only to be told the first time that the doctor had run out of shots about eight people in front of me, and the remaining times to find a line so long, you'd think they were giving away diamonds... or even top quality peanut brittle. who knows. fifth time was a charm however, and i was at the front of the line when the rest were informed that they only had six shots left (i received number 2). i don't know what it is about such a scenario that causes me to actually GLOAT to the rest of the line, and cheekily try to sell my shot to the highest bidder... but the words did in fact come out of my mouth. obviously, not one person found that moment amusing (except me of course... and i would like to point out that the nurses administering the shot found me hilarious... lest you all suddenly worry that i've lost my mojo).

unfortunately, i'm now worried that my body can't battle the virus they've injected into my arm. i have been sneezing like a sneezing fool all last night and today. i got super dizzy last night and just kept eating and drinking water until it went away, but still felt a little offkilter. and my arm kills. of course that means that i can't work out (oh darn, it'll have to wait a day), but it's sort of ridiculous that one little stab in the arm can sideline your regular life so badly. bygones. i'll win this battle. my already forming powerhouse antibodies have been adequately bribed. if they do a good job, i promise not to kick them out.

do you ever notice how much better a woman walks when wearing heels? i don't know what it is about me, but i'm always made aware of the fact that i FEEL like i have more confidence when wearing something with a little lift. it's as if my lower half is doing magic tricks on stilts. love it.

i've got my morning coffee in hand... let the fantasmica begin.

last night... we baked

coworker J and i attempted to do some baking last night after work. and no, i most certainly do NOT mean the illegal kind... i'm talking flour and eggs and sugar here people, stay with me.

we were overwhelmed with excitement at the thought of making these green tea cheesecake brownies but really, they look like white mini quiche squares. too much butter perhaps?? who knows. but we have them at work and are waiting for SOMEONE to brave the weird appearance and give them a little taste.

someone just sent us an email saying that they are, in fact, delish... right this second. i was going to transition my thought pattern, but had to tell you. success!! even if the nibbler is a young canadian girl.. it counts.

i rather enjoy all things domestic. i really love doing laundry, and cooking, and organizing, and sewing, and all such things. i dont actually like the cleaning part however. if it weren't for the advent of the swiffer, i would be living in a ginormous pile of dust bunnies. i mean if you're going to keep pets, they might as well be living beings, right? can dust bunnies be considered pets? i'm going to look into it, b/c i'm certainly not going to pay anyone a pet deposit simply b/c i abhor dusting.

i tangent... whoopsie.

my valediction prediction...

just go with it... it rhymes.

i have very intelligent friends... i do. i'm not going to lie. such things usually make me feel good about myself. for some reason, new york has provided me the opportunity to increase the knowledge level of my friend base. why is that you might ask (or you might if you actually cared about what i had to say... so thank you... for those that actually, in fact, you know... care)? i think it's because there's a pretension that goes along with this place. people really seem to care about where you went to college, and what you studied, and the number of degrees you have (because one bachelor degree doesn't really cut the mustard), and all that flim flam. whatever. sit at a table with me and my coworkers on any given day and this will be the round up: yale, yale, stanford, harvard, oxford, brown, yale, university of washington. pretty sure that last one is the dactyl (good call). it amuses me. but at the same time i can't stand verbal showboating. it's a fine line, but in the publishing industry, advanced vocabulary is routine.

i left los angeles because i couldn't stand how plastic the city was... and not just in a surgically cosmetic sense... the people just seemed to have no souls. i lived there for two years and didn't generate one meaningful relationship with a single person there. tres boring. but i find that i dislike new york for the opposite reason. there is meaning, but does soulfullness exist here?

back to my original topic... whenever i find myself puzzling over the meaning of a certain word or concept, i know not to trouble myself too greatly with it. i simply lean my head out my office and ask the general nearbys what the answers are. more likely than not, it is my bff at work R... and in today's case he came through for me. again.

during lunch S posed the following question: i know that the opening of any letter is called a salutation, but what is the closing called? the answer: a valediction. R wins again.

and now you can all consider yourself enlightened...

a busy weekend and the vroom vroom...

thank the ceiling for small favors... after a very busy weekend of traveling and shooting (new jersey and connecticut), i found myself back at home on sunday evening preparing for a date that never happened. he was tired. feeling slightly deflated about the way this new romance had fizzled, i decided to take a stranger up on his offer to take me on a bike ride... and by bike, i mean the real kind.. the motorcycle.

we did a full swoop of lower manhattan, at about 70 miles an hour, the wind blasting me in the face, my legs doing their duty of keeping me on the bike... and a grin deliciously plastered across my face. overall i never loved living in southern california, but i certainly do miss those weekend bike rides out ortega highway... stopping randomly for beers and mexican food. last night i had a taste of that again, and boy... it was just what i needed. JUST... WHAT... I... NEEDED!

until next weekend, when we ride again... i'll be here enjoying the smile that won't leave my face.

sort of an exciting day in dactyl land...

my photography website has gone live... still have to do some final editing and get a logo designed etc.. but it's there for your viewing pleasure.

www.taraleigh.com

eeeeeeeek!!

these also came in the mail yesterday, so you'd best believe that i'm rocking them today. i love zappos... such things should just be known. :)



i had a rather painful date last night... and i have another one tonight with a doctor (like that matters), and really, i just want to cancel and stay home and read. now i'm starting to remember why i hated this process so much last year... b/c it's painful and emotionally draining. i've already met someone that i think is lovely and such a great time to be around...but he's not looking for a relationship. so now what do i do? i keep going on painful dates, that's what i do.

a midtown monarch...

i just went into rakesh's office to tell him something about his notoriety as "an indian man that speaks many languages" when i happened to glance outside his window (at the ever increasing grayness that is the sky today... pending rain anyone? anyone?) and saw a monarch butterfly hovering. i mean it clearly wasn't flapping it's bright orange wings and flying around... it was sort of just coasting and was probably propelled upwards by the steam and exhaust of the buildings and cars below (i'm making this up but it sounds interesting)...

it's not very often that one looks out a seventh story window only to find a monarch butterfly commuting through midtown manhattan. i mean really...

where is he going? is bloomie's having a sale that i don't know about? i mean, he's completely missed the columbus day (aka let's celebrate our italianness and be annoying by blocking the sidewalks day) parade... but still. you don't come in to midtown without some sort of mission.

i wonder if i toss a 20 dollar bill out the window (that doesn't open) if he'll go on a starbucks run for me. i could use a little something-festive-with-caramel-and-a-long-name-achino, if you know what i'm sayin...

word.

all i know is that i miss you...

i have a serious problem. i'm a little bit obsessed with amazon. i've bought soooooooo many movies in the last few months that it's kind of ridiculous. but i'm buying all these movies that i love and that i can watch over and over and over again during my 'stay in bed the entire day b/c you love wearing your jams and watching movies all day' kind of days. but when i total up the amount of money i've spent in the last six months on movies... eeek. i mean its not THAT bad... but really... i need to knock it off and just get out of the effing house.

i went out to dinner with a friend and coworker on saturday night and it was really lovely. we had a glass of wine, and then had brazilian for dinner, walked around a bit... and i sent myself home b/c all the talking was making me cough really hard, but i had a truly delightful evening. i forgot what it feels like to have an easy and interesting night out on the town. i need more of those.

i miss the west coast. i'm just going to admit that right now. it's so lonely here. and i'm not getting enough visits... you slackers. ;) i figure this time next year i'll either be heading back to seattle or moving eastward again... why not europe, i mean really. i figure if i'm not seeing someone and moving towards that settling down stage, that i might as well see the world and experience as much as i can. i mean really, if you'd like to change that plan of action, by all means put a ring on my finger... but in the meantime, i'll be living via passport.

i've been coughing for about two weeks straight now... i KNOW as soon as i walk into a doctor's office it's going to stop... and then i'll have wasted all that money. am i being stupid? stubborn yes... but stupid? i don't pay enough attention to myself anymore, so really have lost clarity about alot of things.

all i know is that i miss you.

if i was a little kitten, i’d totally pet myself...

i haven't been telling many people, because i don't want to jinx myself... but there's a very good chance that one of my photographs is going to be on the cover of a book. they had a concept that they couldn't find a stock photo for, so i shot something quickly for them. it looks decent, in my opinion, but not amazing. so we'll see... crossing fingers b/c that'd be mighty groovy.

bronchitis and i are like bff... it's like we're in a long term relationship... except i'm not getting any ass. just phlegm.

i've been meeting a ton of people lately that all seem to have cats. do you know what this does to me? it makes me want kittens even more. we can't have pets in our current apartment, so i'd have to wait til next year anyways... but still. i want a kitten. soonish.

it's wednesday and the boss will be gone for two weeks for a bookfair. i'll either be bored out of my mind, or he'll call every day with weird requests and keep me on my toes. i can't decide which sounds better.

because i'm sick, and because i'm just that kind of lazy (or awesome, you pick) i ordered more food from fresh direct. i'm sorry, but the idea of someone BRINGING me fresh produce and ice cream is the highest form of decadence. and it's cheap... so i mean reeeeeeaally.

i get to see A this weekend. thank GOD because i need a hug that means something.

reason number 5,238 that i’ll never be a celebrity...

here's just another reason why i'll never be famous.

in the trend of abbreviating names to make people sound cooler a la JLo for Jennifer Lopez and LiLo for Lindsay Lohan....ladies and gentleman I bring you

Ta-Co.

bleh. at least i'd cause a new generation to eat mexican food.

happy tuesday.