it's friday, i have zero plans tonight... and to be honest, nothing sounds better. i cannot wait to get home and just relax. i feel like i've squeezed two years into one week... eventhough nothing notable happened. so bizarre.
do ever just get tired? tired of waking up in the morning? i was discussing this topic with pinkangel earlier, so i'm not going to get into it at length again... but at what point do you just get fed up with the half life while trying to be patient for the full life to find you. she suggested that i go out and find it... but you can't find love, and you can't magically create some lovely familial image out of a crockpot (or banged up rice cooker in my case) and secret spices from the cupboard (i only own nutmeg, if you're needing some).
why is it that i get so disturbed by other people leaving newspapers in the public restrooms at work? and by "people", i mean "women"... because that's the restroom that i go into every day. there's always that little receptacle attached the stall door that allows you to dispose of your naughty vittles... but please dont leave your US Weekly in there. how much time are you REALLY spending in there to warrant bringing in the actual mag or paper? i bring W into the bathroom with me at home.. mostly because if i'm in the middle of a good article, i'll want to keep reading even while "divulging" (we'll call it)... but that's at HOME for crying out loud. i do all kinds of things at home that we wont really go in to... but geeeez.
tracy chapman is playing on my itunes channel now... so i'm going to go belt out 'gimme one reason to love you' in my head. of course i'll need to stop typing to you, in order to do that.
what?
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
here's an obviously me maneuver...
the first morning after i launder my sheets is always the hardest for me to get out of bed (secondary only to a mancake sleeping next to me, then forget it... i'm staying in bed and will be late to wherever it is that i'm supposed to be). the clean sheet smell and fluffy comforter combo is just torture. must. hit. snooze. onemoretime!
so this morning, i decided to forego the makeup and fancy hair (like i ever bother with this anymore) and put on a decent work outfit... cream sweater, greenish slacks, i wrap my cream scarf around my neck, grab my jacket, and throw on my uggs - because my brown boots are in the pile of spare shoes under my desk at work.
wrong. this is not true. i took all those shoes home b/c i was having an office cleaning fit. so now, i'm AT WORK, cruising around in my lovely work ensem and sporting... yup, you got it... uggs.
i am the epitome of an envelope pusher. thus far, no one has said anything (which actually almost makes it worse!). haha.
carry on.
so this morning, i decided to forego the makeup and fancy hair (like i ever bother with this anymore) and put on a decent work outfit... cream sweater, greenish slacks, i wrap my cream scarf around my neck, grab my jacket, and throw on my uggs - because my brown boots are in the pile of spare shoes under my desk at work.
wrong. this is not true. i took all those shoes home b/c i was having an office cleaning fit. so now, i'm AT WORK, cruising around in my lovely work ensem and sporting... yup, you got it... uggs.
i am the epitome of an envelope pusher. thus far, no one has said anything (which actually almost makes it worse!). haha.
carry on.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
there is a sea in me...
there is a sea in me...
deep inside me a giant sea,
only a tiny boat in which to cross.
the oars...hidden,
the wood...weakening,
but made from the stuff of magic.
this boat in me is so small you see,
and comfortably makes passage for one.
there is a sea in me... deep inside me a giant sea,
welcoming of travellers but knowing few.
the water... cold.
the passage... uncertain.
daring the intrepid man to interrupt its waters.
the sea in me seems so vast you see,
resolute, entreating this passage for one.
this last glimmer of hope i see.
a preservation to battle against the sea.
a lifetime of worth and ease.
failing all else,
there is the urge to swim...
in me.
deep inside me a giant sea,
only a tiny boat in which to cross.
the oars...hidden,
the wood...weakening,
but made from the stuff of magic.
this boat in me is so small you see,
and comfortably makes passage for one.
there is a sea in me... deep inside me a giant sea,
welcoming of travellers but knowing few.
the water... cold.
the passage... uncertain.
daring the intrepid man to interrupt its waters.
the sea in me seems so vast you see,
resolute, entreating this passage for one.
this last glimmer of hope i see.
a preservation to battle against the sea.
a lifetime of worth and ease.
failing all else,
there is the urge to swim...
in me.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
i'm the kind of girl...
(why is it that women have a hard time calling themselves women? at what age do you start to feel comfortable calling yourself WOMAN, instead of girl, lady, gal, or chick? i often wonder when i'll fully own that word, woman... i roll it around in my mouth sometimes, and often almost let it escape my lips, but usually i change it at the last moment and still say girl. why?)
i'm the kind of girl:
* that sets up dates with ex-boyfriends while on vacation home, just to ensure that she has someone to make out with.
* that eats an entire container of hummus for lunch.
* who thinks that sweat is a good and necessary evil.
* that always daydreams about other adventures, and seems to have her head firmly immursed in the clouds.
* always wishes that she'd had a few sisters.
* wants babies but doesn't actually want to give birth. (get on that, science)
* can't help waiting til the last minute.
* has things to accomplish and should just get to it...
and with that... a hearty 'carry on'.
i'm the kind of girl:
* that sets up dates with ex-boyfriends while on vacation home, just to ensure that she has someone to make out with.
* that eats an entire container of hummus for lunch.
* who thinks that sweat is a good and necessary evil.
* that always daydreams about other adventures, and seems to have her head firmly immursed in the clouds.
* always wishes that she'd had a few sisters.
* wants babies but doesn't actually want to give birth. (get on that, science)
* can't help waiting til the last minute.
* has things to accomplish and should just get to it...
and with that... a hearty 'carry on'.
Monday, November 26, 2007
that was such a long break, i should be tan or something...
five days off? i can't even remember the last time that i had five days off. oh yes i do... it was in february for my birthday, which was forever ago. i really am overdue for a vacation, of the tropical persuasion. and pronto.
i just spent the last few days at my friend's parent's house in connecticut... eating great food, drinking wine, playing boardgames, going on hikes, walking on the beach for photo taking, and laughing... a lot. i've never had that much fun at a holiday dinner table in my entire life (sorry family), but it's true. get a bunch of overeducated nerds at a turkey feast and watch the weirdness ensue. so amazing in such a brilliant and wonderful way. i felt sad taking the train back home, and spent the entirety of sunday in bed in my jams... watching movies (blood diamond is brilliant btw).
being back at work today is a little surreal... technically i'm now back on that 'watch what i eat, get in shape before xmas' thing, and i shant be drinking or enjoying monstrous portions until then. but i had to DRAG my toosh out of bed today. why is it always so difficult to go back to work on the monday after a few days off? talk about torture.
happy monday friends... carry on.
added for rachel... the pest!! hehe
i just spent the last few days at my friend's parent's house in connecticut... eating great food, drinking wine, playing boardgames, going on hikes, walking on the beach for photo taking, and laughing... a lot. i've never had that much fun at a holiday dinner table in my entire life (sorry family), but it's true. get a bunch of overeducated nerds at a turkey feast and watch the weirdness ensue. so amazing in such a brilliant and wonderful way. i felt sad taking the train back home, and spent the entirety of sunday in bed in my jams... watching movies (blood diamond is brilliant btw).
being back at work today is a little surreal... technically i'm now back on that 'watch what i eat, get in shape before xmas' thing, and i shant be drinking or enjoying monstrous portions until then. but i had to DRAG my toosh out of bed today. why is it always so difficult to go back to work on the monday after a few days off? talk about torture.
happy monday friends... carry on.
added for rachel... the pest!! hehe
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
sidewalk etiquette you miniature person wielding an umbrella!!
i am from seattle, washington. i don't know if you're aware of this, but it rains there... sometimes. therefore, i am an AMAZING driver in any kind of precipitation and will not pull out an umbrella on the sidewalk until actual full sized droplets are bouncing on my head with any proximity to each other. if they are five seconds apart, get over it.
so today, as i walked to the dentist for my every-six-month cleaning, i found myself getting more and more annoyed by the douchebags on the sidewalk. here's the thing... if you're short, unless you follow the proper umbrella holding rules, you are going to poke me in the face as you walk by me. LIFT UP YOUR UMBRELLA!!! the tall people will lift theirs up higher, it'll all work out, but avoid pushing your umbrella spokes into other people's faces!! i do not understand how human beings can be so unaware of themselves as they walk down the street. you see the other people around you, don't you? it's even easier to spot them when they are also carrying football field sized bright orange umbrellas. because if you're going to carry an umbrella, CLEARLY you should be able to keep your entire golf cart dry at the same time. imbeciles. stay to the right, keep your umbrella above eye level of the people around you, and everything will be okay.
sidewalk rage is a growing problem in new york city. we must all do our part to make the sidewalks safe. i like my eyeballs, and i'd like to hold on to both of them. i know that's madness, but really.
today was also the first time that i had the opportunity to stand up next to my dental hygienist. usually i'm already sitting down in the chair when she comes in, and she usually leaves to go work on someone else by the time i get up to gather my things. not so this time, because i'd brought in stanley (my night guard) for a quick cleaning.... so as she was finishing him off, i stood up to grab my jacket (and hat and scarf and purse, if we're being thorough). i've always known that she was petite and adorable, but good lord i LOOM over her. she turned around and then tipped her head all the back to look up into my face. we both started laughing. then my dentist came in the room and she's also just as beency.
everywhere i go, i'm surrounded by little people. i'm about to change my name to dorothy and be done with it.
happy gobble gobble week. carry on.
so today, as i walked to the dentist for my every-six-month cleaning, i found myself getting more and more annoyed by the douchebags on the sidewalk. here's the thing... if you're short, unless you follow the proper umbrella holding rules, you are going to poke me in the face as you walk by me. LIFT UP YOUR UMBRELLA!!! the tall people will lift theirs up higher, it'll all work out, but avoid pushing your umbrella spokes into other people's faces!! i do not understand how human beings can be so unaware of themselves as they walk down the street. you see the other people around you, don't you? it's even easier to spot them when they are also carrying football field sized bright orange umbrellas. because if you're going to carry an umbrella, CLEARLY you should be able to keep your entire golf cart dry at the same time. imbeciles. stay to the right, keep your umbrella above eye level of the people around you, and everything will be okay.
sidewalk rage is a growing problem in new york city. we must all do our part to make the sidewalks safe. i like my eyeballs, and i'd like to hold on to both of them. i know that's madness, but really.
today was also the first time that i had the opportunity to stand up next to my dental hygienist. usually i'm already sitting down in the chair when she comes in, and she usually leaves to go work on someone else by the time i get up to gather my things. not so this time, because i'd brought in stanley (my night guard) for a quick cleaning.... so as she was finishing him off, i stood up to grab my jacket (and hat and scarf and purse, if we're being thorough). i've always known that she was petite and adorable, but good lord i LOOM over her. she turned around and then tipped her head all the back to look up into my face. we both started laughing. then my dentist came in the room and she's also just as beency.
everywhere i go, i'm surrounded by little people. i'm about to change my name to dorothy and be done with it.
happy gobble gobble week. carry on.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
i just piddled...
there are two things that make me clap my hands with glee:
this
and the fact that my friend martha k thought i'd find it funny. because i'm smart like that... n shit.
this
and the fact that my friend martha k thought i'd find it funny. because i'm smart like that... n shit.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
my old, achy bones just don't jazzercise...anymore
i let my friend meghan drag me to a jazz class at broadway dance center this morning. i'd like to point out for the record that meghan is 23 (i think) and about five feet tall. beeensy! she was on a college dance team and carries herself like someone that used to be a ballerina.
i haven't taken a real dance class (of the jazz variety) in the last decade, i haven't bothered to stretch like a dancer in about six years, and i haven't tried being a real dancer on my left foot since paulette (the bunion) was removed last year. foot reconstruction... fun times for another day.
it.. was... torture, of the embarrassment variety. i wasn't the worst person in the room. there was a fifty five year old woman with glasses in the room. that's something. but the instructor led us through 45 minutes of vigorous stretching before starting any actual choreography. i'm so sore right now it's not even funny.
on the first pass across the room, balancing and kicking and spinning, i realized that the two screws in my foot were NOT going to make things easy for me. i don't know what the hell i was thinking that 1) i'd ever be a real dancer again and 2) that my foot was anywhere ready to just pick things up again like i was sixteen years old. i spent the second 45 minutes of the class sitting in the corner and watching the early 20 somethings dancing their little asses off. i willed myself not to start weeping like a little baby.
i'll go back... because i'm too stubborn to let this eat at me and beat me... but man... how utterly humiliating. but hey, if i'm going to get back into regular person shape and then dancer shape, i have to start somewhere.
i randomly ran into my friend michelle on the subway home... she's a dancer/singer/actor/musican person (you know those people... you want to punch them in the face just because), and she really helped me get some perspective once i explained to her where i'd just come from. it's stupid of me to think that this morning was a failure. i stretched for 45 minutes and worked my foot out a little bit. the more i go, the better i'll get. and although all that scar tissue in my foot isn't ever going to breakdown, and i won't get perfect balance back on that side... i'm doing pretty well for an old lady that hasn't danced in a decade that now has two metal screws in her foot.
small favors kids... small favors.
i haven't taken a real dance class (of the jazz variety) in the last decade, i haven't bothered to stretch like a dancer in about six years, and i haven't tried being a real dancer on my left foot since paulette (the bunion) was removed last year. foot reconstruction... fun times for another day.
it.. was... torture, of the embarrassment variety. i wasn't the worst person in the room. there was a fifty five year old woman with glasses in the room. that's something. but the instructor led us through 45 minutes of vigorous stretching before starting any actual choreography. i'm so sore right now it's not even funny.
on the first pass across the room, balancing and kicking and spinning, i realized that the two screws in my foot were NOT going to make things easy for me. i don't know what the hell i was thinking that 1) i'd ever be a real dancer again and 2) that my foot was anywhere ready to just pick things up again like i was sixteen years old. i spent the second 45 minutes of the class sitting in the corner and watching the early 20 somethings dancing their little asses off. i willed myself not to start weeping like a little baby.
i'll go back... because i'm too stubborn to let this eat at me and beat me... but man... how utterly humiliating. but hey, if i'm going to get back into regular person shape and then dancer shape, i have to start somewhere.
i randomly ran into my friend michelle on the subway home... she's a dancer/singer/actor/musican person (you know those people... you want to punch them in the face just because), and she really helped me get some perspective once i explained to her where i'd just come from. it's stupid of me to think that this morning was a failure. i stretched for 45 minutes and worked my foot out a little bit. the more i go, the better i'll get. and although all that scar tissue in my foot isn't ever going to breakdown, and i won't get perfect balance back on that side... i'm doing pretty well for an old lady that hasn't danced in a decade that now has two metal screws in her foot.
small favors kids... small favors.
Friday, November 16, 2007
who is that irish buffoon whooping and hollering in the back row?
oh wait... that's me.
and first of all, let me point out that i am NOT irish. but if you're going to a comedy show that is somehow completely based on ethnicity (even through five comics) then people are going to generalize about you and assume that because you are loud, and may or may not be mildy intoxicated, that you are (in fact) irish. not so, my friends, not so. i'm norwegian. but that is neither here nor there. well maybe there... but we'll move on.
last night after work, i accompanied a dear friend and coworker to go see his older brother do some stand-up comedy (is there sit down comedy? i'm curious). we went to vlada (gay bar) for some happy hour beverages, where i procured the business cards of too gentlemen (both not my team, obv) b/c i'm just that charming when i'm not trying to be. then we went to yum yum bankok and had some very delicious thai food (i was starving), and then on to the show at the broadway comedy club.
the broadway comedy club is one of those establishments that makes you pay the cover charge and then makes you purchase a two drink minimum (which really, is beyond annoying). the drink list was hilarious and so one of the other members of our party and myself decided to drink strawberry daquiri b&j wine coolers. that's right friends, i was drinking 'flashback to junior year of highschool' style beverages. and let me tell you... they... were... DELICIOUS!!! the host of the show, that i kept heckling because no one else was answering his dumb questions, ribbed me a little bit about our drinks, but i did not care. that shiitake made my night.
rajiv aka the funny indian is a delightful guy... in town visiting his brother until mid december (yay for the rest of us), so if you get the chance to check out his blog, or see him out somewhere serving up the funny... tell him i said hello.
carry on.
and first of all, let me point out that i am NOT irish. but if you're going to a comedy show that is somehow completely based on ethnicity (even through five comics) then people are going to generalize about you and assume that because you are loud, and may or may not be mildy intoxicated, that you are (in fact) irish. not so, my friends, not so. i'm norwegian. but that is neither here nor there. well maybe there... but we'll move on.
last night after work, i accompanied a dear friend and coworker to go see his older brother do some stand-up comedy (is there sit down comedy? i'm curious). we went to vlada (gay bar) for some happy hour beverages, where i procured the business cards of too gentlemen (both not my team, obv) b/c i'm just that charming when i'm not trying to be. then we went to yum yum bankok and had some very delicious thai food (i was starving), and then on to the show at the broadway comedy club.
the broadway comedy club is one of those establishments that makes you pay the cover charge and then makes you purchase a two drink minimum (which really, is beyond annoying). the drink list was hilarious and so one of the other members of our party and myself decided to drink strawberry daquiri b&j wine coolers. that's right friends, i was drinking 'flashback to junior year of highschool' style beverages. and let me tell you... they... were... DELICIOUS!!! the host of the show, that i kept heckling because no one else was answering his dumb questions, ribbed me a little bit about our drinks, but i did not care. that shiitake made my night.
rajiv aka the funny indian is a delightful guy... in town visiting his brother until mid december (yay for the rest of us), so if you get the chance to check out his blog, or see him out somewhere serving up the funny... tell him i said hello.
carry on.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
there are some things in life that just make me oh so sad...
this is one of them:
he's always been on my backburner greatest hot guy of all time list. the top five laminated (if you will)... for some reason hunky foreigners always manage to weasel their way on to my list (think hugh jackman, clive owen, and gerard butler), but val has always been the non moveable 'dude'. i'm obviously going to reassess PRONTO!
i'll be back later to discuss more important life issues... but for now i'll be over here, crying softly to myself.
he's always been on my backburner greatest hot guy of all time list. the top five laminated (if you will)... for some reason hunky foreigners always manage to weasel their way on to my list (think hugh jackman, clive owen, and gerard butler), but val has always been the non moveable 'dude'. i'm obviously going to reassess PRONTO!
i'll be back later to discuss more important life issues... but for now i'll be over here, crying softly to myself.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
between "her" and "me"...
(from an IM conversation with one of my best friends yesterday, because it was an interesting discussion, rather insightful, and i wanted to share it with y'all... excuse spelling and grammatical shortcuts):
me: i HAD good biz on saturday morning
the immature jerk... the honest stuff comes out when they've been drinking and then they go running for the scaredy little hills when more sober.
i'm too awesome... i'm tired of hearing that
her: what happened?
me: we met out... spent nine hours talking about all kinds of amazing things... made out...slept over.. sex didn't happen til the morning... he stayed til noon, we napped, ate breakfast. he said 'we have our numbers, we'll make it happen'... then nothing since then
no HI, no so glad i met you etc
deflating
her: no shit
me: like
i haven't a conversation that amazing in YEARS
her: did he say something that would make him freak out?
like "omg, i just showed i'm vulnerable, can't call ever again"
me: totally
her: that's redonk
me: yup
like it's MY fault that you like me and therefore i should be punished
her: this might be a stupid question, but are you going to call him?
me: i'm not sure
her: if he's really scared, i doubt he's trying to punish you
me: i might... in a few days. one last ditch effort.
her: more like running away cupping his balls
me: yeah
it still makes me really sad though. i'm tired of this reaction
it's one big rollercoaster
her: i know
i understand
me: like what is so inherently bad about me, then men dont seem to like after one day?
will i be alone forever?? maybe... maaayyyybe
her: well... i don't think you're bad or they're bad
i think you're ready and they're scared
me: yeah i spose... all these years of me being a chickenshit, and now that i'm ready... THEY're all chickshits
her: i don't know why or how it happened, but "men" in our generation will avoid responsibility at ALL COSTS
me: its true
how did that happen and why?
her: i have theories, but that doesn't mean anything
mostly it's a poor example they've learned from
me: well i usually like your theories
id believe that
her: and the fact that we women and our feminist tendancies have decided it's a GOOD thing to take up all the slack
me: which i do NOT think is a good thing
her: men are no longer being good providers, so women got back to work
men are no longer being protectors so we protect ourselves
me: this makes me want to cry
i'm going to blog with your insight btw... that's very smart
her: men are no longer being good fathers, so we're inseminating ourselves, marrying other women, making sex a "physical need" instead of part of a companion relationship
it's just completely backward
we WANT chivalry from individual men, but culturally we expect men to get the hell out of the way, treat us as 'equals'
no wonder they're confused
me: seriously
her: personally, i think feminism is the saddest, most tragic development in modern culture
it's our own damn fault
feel free to chime in on this...
me: i HAD good biz on saturday morning
the immature jerk... the honest stuff comes out when they've been drinking and then they go running for the scaredy little hills when more sober.
i'm too awesome... i'm tired of hearing that
her: what happened?
me: we met out... spent nine hours talking about all kinds of amazing things... made out...slept over.. sex didn't happen til the morning... he stayed til noon, we napped, ate breakfast. he said 'we have our numbers, we'll make it happen'... then nothing since then
no HI, no so glad i met you etc
deflating
her: no shit
me: like
i haven't a conversation that amazing in YEARS
her: did he say something that would make him freak out?
like "omg, i just showed i'm vulnerable, can't call ever again"
me: totally
her: that's redonk
me: yup
like it's MY fault that you like me and therefore i should be punished
her: this might be a stupid question, but are you going to call him?
me: i'm not sure
her: if he's really scared, i doubt he's trying to punish you
me: i might... in a few days. one last ditch effort.
her: more like running away cupping his balls
me: yeah
it still makes me really sad though. i'm tired of this reaction
it's one big rollercoaster
her: i know
i understand
me: like what is so inherently bad about me, then men dont seem to like after one day?
will i be alone forever?? maybe... maaayyyybe
her: well... i don't think you're bad or they're bad
i think you're ready and they're scared
me: yeah i spose... all these years of me being a chickenshit, and now that i'm ready... THEY're all chickshits
her: i don't know why or how it happened, but "men" in our generation will avoid responsibility at ALL COSTS
me: its true
how did that happen and why?
her: i have theories, but that doesn't mean anything
mostly it's a poor example they've learned from
me: well i usually like your theories
id believe that
her: and the fact that we women and our feminist tendancies have decided it's a GOOD thing to take up all the slack
me: which i do NOT think is a good thing
her: men are no longer being good providers, so women got back to work
men are no longer being protectors so we protect ourselves
me: this makes me want to cry
i'm going to blog with your insight btw... that's very smart
her: men are no longer being good fathers, so we're inseminating ourselves, marrying other women, making sex a "physical need" instead of part of a companion relationship
it's just completely backward
we WANT chivalry from individual men, but culturally we expect men to get the hell out of the way, treat us as 'equals'
no wonder they're confused
me: seriously
her: personally, i think feminism is the saddest, most tragic development in modern culture
it's our own damn fault
feel free to chime in on this...
black light bowling and small favors...
i should've worn my yellow arm streamers out last night... the amazing ones that kari and i made a few years ago for brie's disco rollerskating party. they're in my closet. along with the rest of the costume... note to self... wear them out next time you go BOWLING.
last night i went bowling... and not in a sunset lanes a dollar a game kind of a way. bowling in new york is expensive and not nearly as awesome and/or trashy as it is anywhere else. you end up throwing down quite a bit of cash, only to get really intoxicated and bowl terribly, because you are drunk and they've got ALL THE LIGHTS TURNED OFF SO THAT YOU DISCO BOWL!! how in the ceiling's name am i supposed to hit anything and make the boys cry over my sheer brilliance at bowling if i can't see the effing lane markers? tell me that!
my bowling performance was tres terrible... but i had a blast, and got to spend a few hours with some new friends that happen to mostly be from seattle. two of the guys happen to be my down the street neighbors, and they both have really great girlfriends that i've gotten to befriend as well, so my 'group of new york friends' is expanding (thank god, i was beginning to wonder).
we all parted ways at about 11pm... a few of them staying behind to knock out a few games and attempt to beat their girlfriends at least once before leaving the building (ah the male ego), and i took the subway home.
i got home only to find a text message from one of my neighbors asking me if i'd made it home safely. this made me supremely happy. and it's totally my move. i'm always that friend that says 'text me when you get home so i know that you made it safely' (and believe me i'm mocked endlessly for this)... so it's nice to have someone else finally GET IT.
my right pinky finger is hurting today... another quality bowling injury.
well played dactyl!
carry on.
last night i went bowling... and not in a sunset lanes a dollar a game kind of a way. bowling in new york is expensive and not nearly as awesome and/or trashy as it is anywhere else. you end up throwing down quite a bit of cash, only to get really intoxicated and bowl terribly, because you are drunk and they've got ALL THE LIGHTS TURNED OFF SO THAT YOU DISCO BOWL!! how in the ceiling's name am i supposed to hit anything and make the boys cry over my sheer brilliance at bowling if i can't see the effing lane markers? tell me that!
my bowling performance was tres terrible... but i had a blast, and got to spend a few hours with some new friends that happen to mostly be from seattle. two of the guys happen to be my down the street neighbors, and they both have really great girlfriends that i've gotten to befriend as well, so my 'group of new york friends' is expanding (thank god, i was beginning to wonder).
we all parted ways at about 11pm... a few of them staying behind to knock out a few games and attempt to beat their girlfriends at least once before leaving the building (ah the male ego), and i took the subway home.
i got home only to find a text message from one of my neighbors asking me if i'd made it home safely. this made me supremely happy. and it's totally my move. i'm always that friend that says 'text me when you get home so i know that you made it safely' (and believe me i'm mocked endlessly for this)... so it's nice to have someone else finally GET IT.
my right pinky finger is hurting today... another quality bowling injury.
well played dactyl!
carry on.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
quality television and my tooshie - in cahoots.
who knew that the bravo channel could provide such amazing motivation to go to the gym?! as you may or may not know, i do not have cable right now. as an attempt to get myself out of the house more, i decided to forego the cable. i'll read more... i'll go out for movies more... okay not really. i'll ass-rape netflix more is what i'll actually do. but anyway, i don't have cable.
so, imagine my delight when i realized that i can catch up on all things bravo channel while kicking my own ass on the elliptical machine! i used to suffer through even twenty minutes on that thing.. my feet fall asleep, i stare off into no man's land (because i don't wear my glasses while working out and can't see THAT far ahead of me without them), but now... i watch project runway reruns and giggle my way through forty minutes of ass kicking awesomeness.
gimme six weeks... just six weeks to get back into the kind of shape that i can be proud of. come christmas time i'm going to be running the streets nekkid... due to sheer joy at the sight of me. it's been long enough...bitches(and i'll be all caught up on my quality televesion, spank you very much).
so, imagine my delight when i realized that i can catch up on all things bravo channel while kicking my own ass on the elliptical machine! i used to suffer through even twenty minutes on that thing.. my feet fall asleep, i stare off into no man's land (because i don't wear my glasses while working out and can't see THAT far ahead of me without them), but now... i watch project runway reruns and giggle my way through forty minutes of ass kicking awesomeness.
gimme six weeks... just six weeks to get back into the kind of shape that i can be proud of. come christmas time i'm going to be running the streets nekkid... due to sheer joy at the sight of me. it's been long enough...bitches(and i'll be all caught up on my quality televesion, spank you very much).
Monday, November 12, 2007
icycles hanging from my nose...
ever have those mornings where your alarm goes off, and you slowly open one eye just a sliver to assess the light in the room and evaluate how badly you want to get up on time? today was totally one of those mornings where i spent many minutes searching the recesses of my mind trying to come up with some viable excuse to NOT go into work today. had someone been sleeping next to me, i absolutely would've stayed home in bed... but alas, i could come up with nothing, and here i am freezing my ASS off.
i am completely swathed in my scarf right now, and the space heater is rocking out on the floor... my shins are so warm right now. pfffffft.
icycles hanging from my nose.. if i sneeze too hard i might cut my chin with them. okay that's a slight exaggeration. obv. but it's dang cold. and i want to be curled up in bed napping.
carry on.
i am completely swathed in my scarf right now, and the space heater is rocking out on the floor... my shins are so warm right now. pfffffft.
icycles hanging from my nose.. if i sneeze too hard i might cut my chin with them. okay that's a slight exaggeration. obv. but it's dang cold. and i want to be curled up in bed napping.
carry on.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
i like to jinx myself... don't i?
i mean i REALLY like to jinx myself. we know this about me. i talk about things and get excited about things before they are actually ever THINGS... and yet i can never seem to control my excitement. we KNOW this about me.
so i'm not altogether certain that friday night actually occurred, or if it was, in fact, just a figment of my slightly intoxicated imagination... and excessive penchant for all things ridiculous.
here's what i know: i came home from work feeling exceedingly exhausted and somehow managed to get myself off of the bed and into an outfit including chapeau. i went down to houston street and met mishka for some happy hour style beverages, and flirted with a bartender named gary. he was too happy about serving drinks called a 'ginger yum yum' (i couldn't let it go). then i went to sing sing with arija and ryan and rakesh, and actually managed to sing one song alone... and a duet with arija of 'part of your world'. yes... we sing disney tunes at bars. what of it?
then i know that matt dragged us over to greenpoint to a bar called i have no idea what, where people where playing pool and dancing in the middle of what was NOT a dancefloor. and here's where my imagination perhaps plays tricks on me. i weaseled my way into a conversation with two gentlemen in the corner, of which i'm certain that i invited myself... and then spent the next nine hours enjoying the shiitake out of one of their company (please note that the latter half of that sentence is not grammatically correct.. here's me not caring right now).
so i should stop the mere mention of this right? because amazing nine hours should be repeated with no end, and if i talk about it it'll go away, right? we know this about me. but good things do happen when you least expect them.
carry on.
so i'm not altogether certain that friday night actually occurred, or if it was, in fact, just a figment of my slightly intoxicated imagination... and excessive penchant for all things ridiculous.
here's what i know: i came home from work feeling exceedingly exhausted and somehow managed to get myself off of the bed and into an outfit including chapeau. i went down to houston street and met mishka for some happy hour style beverages, and flirted with a bartender named gary. he was too happy about serving drinks called a 'ginger yum yum' (i couldn't let it go). then i went to sing sing with arija and ryan and rakesh, and actually managed to sing one song alone... and a duet with arija of 'part of your world'. yes... we sing disney tunes at bars. what of it?
then i know that matt dragged us over to greenpoint to a bar called i have no idea what, where people where playing pool and dancing in the middle of what was NOT a dancefloor. and here's where my imagination perhaps plays tricks on me. i weaseled my way into a conversation with two gentlemen in the corner, of which i'm certain that i invited myself... and then spent the next nine hours enjoying the shiitake out of one of their company (please note that the latter half of that sentence is not grammatically correct.. here's me not caring right now).
so i should stop the mere mention of this right? because amazing nine hours should be repeated with no end, and if i talk about it it'll go away, right? we know this about me. but good things do happen when you least expect them.
carry on.
Friday, November 9, 2007
lars and the real girl...
i went to see lars and the real girl last night with one of my girlfriends. sooooo not what i was expecting, although i really don't know what i was expecting (but really who cares when it comes to ryan gosling, who can do no wrong in my mind... clearly).
here's the imdb write up on the plot synopsis:
Lars (Ryan Gosling) is an awkwardly shy young man in a small nothern town who finally brings home the girl of his dreams to his brother and sister-in-law's home. The only problem is that she's not real - she's a sex doll Lars ordered off the internet. But sex is not what Lars has in mind, but rather a deep, meaningful relationship. His sister-in-law is worried for him, his brother thinks he's nuts, but eventually the entire town goes along with his delusion in support of this sweet natured boy that they've always loved.
i laughed my tooshie off... and went through a few tissues. absolutely worth the in theater purchase price, and i'm recommending this movie with a two very big thumbs up. paul schneider (as the older brother) is brilliant and on the verge of being huge... just wait and see.
bon weekend.
here's the imdb write up on the plot synopsis:
Lars (Ryan Gosling) is an awkwardly shy young man in a small nothern town who finally brings home the girl of his dreams to his brother and sister-in-law's home. The only problem is that she's not real - she's a sex doll Lars ordered off the internet. But sex is not what Lars has in mind, but rather a deep, meaningful relationship. His sister-in-law is worried for him, his brother thinks he's nuts, but eventually the entire town goes along with his delusion in support of this sweet natured boy that they've always loved.
i laughed my tooshie off... and went through a few tissues. absolutely worth the in theater purchase price, and i'm recommending this movie with a two very big thumbs up. paul schneider (as the older brother) is brilliant and on the verge of being huge... just wait and see.
bon weekend.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
i've already gotten my flu shot biyotches...
i had a lovely date this evening... met for a glass of wine, then went on to one of my favie mexican spots for some deliciousness avec avocado (because everything tastes better with avocado)... aaaaaand i had a few margaritas.
fast forward to the end of the evening... aka nine o'clock and about to walk down the subway steps... good date smooching occurs, and then out of nowhere i hear someone yell out 'be careful it's flu season!!!'... and i burst into giggles.
once the giggles subside we go right back to smooching.. because really... i've already gotten my flu shot this year biyotches!!
carry on.
fast forward to the end of the evening... aka nine o'clock and about to walk down the subway steps... good date smooching occurs, and then out of nowhere i hear someone yell out 'be careful it's flu season!!!'... and i burst into giggles.
once the giggles subside we go right back to smooching.. because really... i've already gotten my flu shot this year biyotches!!
carry on.
you can be my bodyguard, i can be your long lost pal...
it's not just me going through things... it would appear that at this stage in life, an asston of people start questioning their paths, their goals... the way their lives are going (or not going as the case may be). for those of us that AREN'T making six figures at the age of 28-30, we begin to wonder what all the effort we put into our daily lives is for.
is it the right move for me to move to new york, for example, and invest two to three years in the publishing industry, when that isn't going to guarantee that i'll be able to focus and pump out an amazing commercial novel... not to mention have it picked up and published by a good house? is writing my avenue? is it a GOOD thing that i took a massive paycut to move here and pursue this, all the while wracking up more debt and living a just-slide-by existence? what's the point? and having ten people as devoted blog readers does not a best seller make. can i assume that the general masses are going to want to read what i have to write? who knows really... but i suppose that it never hurts to try.
that was a tangent, i wasn't even going to write about that originally... but i just read a slackmistress blog about her disenchantment with her life as a struggling writer, and it gets me thinking. that's all.
anyway, back to 'going through things'. a little while ago i had a falling out with someone that i'd sort of befriended... and it ended in a melee of angry emails (on her part), with her calling me self absorbed, etc. and i calmly refused to agree with her. and as upset as i was about that incident, my rational mind had to work out WHY the relationship had unfolded that way. and the answer is this: there are some people in your life that you tell things to, and some people in your life that tell you things, and very few people in your life that get to know and have it all.... the true reciprocal love that is a great friendship. and with this person, i really didn't care about her, and she might have me. and that is where the communication failed. i am an endless outlet for divulging feelings... for some reason people like to unleash the floodgates at me and tell me what's going on in their hearts. i am a great listener... usually. i give good advice, and even via online communication, offer comfort. i very rarely unload to others... and if i do it's usually to the same few people (which i'm sure is overwhelming, i just don't want to complain over and over and over again, so all twelve thousand of my friends get the latest gist)...
obv there's a lot going on in my little noggin right now... must... get... out. why am i even talking about this?? i don't remember. SEE!! this is why i can't concentrate and write a bloody book. my brain cells aren't working together.. it's a team effort here folks let's get it together!!! this weekend, i'm writing chapter one... photo editing be damned.
is it the right move for me to move to new york, for example, and invest two to three years in the publishing industry, when that isn't going to guarantee that i'll be able to focus and pump out an amazing commercial novel... not to mention have it picked up and published by a good house? is writing my avenue? is it a GOOD thing that i took a massive paycut to move here and pursue this, all the while wracking up more debt and living a just-slide-by existence? what's the point? and having ten people as devoted blog readers does not a best seller make. can i assume that the general masses are going to want to read what i have to write? who knows really... but i suppose that it never hurts to try.
that was a tangent, i wasn't even going to write about that originally... but i just read a slackmistress blog about her disenchantment with her life as a struggling writer, and it gets me thinking. that's all.
anyway, back to 'going through things'. a little while ago i had a falling out with someone that i'd sort of befriended... and it ended in a melee of angry emails (on her part), with her calling me self absorbed, etc. and i calmly refused to agree with her. and as upset as i was about that incident, my rational mind had to work out WHY the relationship had unfolded that way. and the answer is this: there are some people in your life that you tell things to, and some people in your life that tell you things, and very few people in your life that get to know and have it all.... the true reciprocal love that is a great friendship. and with this person, i really didn't care about her, and she might have me. and that is where the communication failed. i am an endless outlet for divulging feelings... for some reason people like to unleash the floodgates at me and tell me what's going on in their hearts. i am a great listener... usually. i give good advice, and even via online communication, offer comfort. i very rarely unload to others... and if i do it's usually to the same few people (which i'm sure is overwhelming, i just don't want to complain over and over and over again, so all twelve thousand of my friends get the latest gist)...
obv there's a lot going on in my little noggin right now... must... get... out. why am i even talking about this?? i don't remember. SEE!! this is why i can't concentrate and write a bloody book. my brain cells aren't working together.. it's a team effort here folks let's get it together!!! this weekend, i'm writing chapter one... photo editing be damned.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
catch me if you can...
we made a very interesting discovery this morning as we were leaving to get our coffee (we meaning my coworker j and i... not we as in all of my personalities, thank you). j and i were doing some festive little dance moves in the elevator on the way down, and it occurred to j that there might be cameras in with us. i'm quite certain that there are cameras all over the place in this building, but really i just turn to the corners and give whoever is watching a big thumbs up.
when we got downstairs i asked the security desk if they could see in the elevators, and of course... they can. j got a little somber and admitted to adjusting stockings and pulling wedgies out whilst riding the elevator. please... that's it? i work on high up boogs, practice my vocal stylings and slam dancing moves, AND adjust my stockings.
you gotta keep the security staff happy... i mean... they're there for your security!!
carry on.
when we got downstairs i asked the security desk if they could see in the elevators, and of course... they can. j got a little somber and admitted to adjusting stockings and pulling wedgies out whilst riding the elevator. please... that's it? i work on high up boogs, practice my vocal stylings and slam dancing moves, AND adjust my stockings.
you gotta keep the security staff happy... i mean... they're there for your security!!
carry on.
Monday, November 5, 2007
traffic, shopping, and comparisons...
i find it painfully amusing (read not that amusing at all, but slightly interesting in my bizarre little mind) that you can jaywalk to the high heavens in new york city, but you can't turn right on a red light. i'm sure these two are correlated, but still. i'm all for pedestrian right of way (which they don't actually have), and yet a part of me is still that seattle driver that would want you to wait for ME and my bright, shiny bumper.
i've noticed recently that i pay a large amount of attention to what other people are picking up in a store when i'm there. or, more to the point, i pay attention to what OTHER people are also picking up the same items that i am. i have a thing about shopping in large bargain stores like H&M, because i really don't want to be caught on the subway wearing the same thing as some frumpy woman with 80s bangs. is that bad?
here's my amazing seque from comparison shopping to 'comparison shopping'... i slay me really. i notice that i worry too much about what other people are creating. i tend to comparison shop my talent. not 'shop FOR talent' or put my talent up for shopping, in a highway 99 ripped stocking, i'll give you a treat for twenty dollars kind of way (holy tangent). i mean that i look at what my peers are putting out (photographically speaking) and compare my work. one really shouldn't do that when talking about art and creation... but i still tend to do it. i compare myself... like i have every day of my life in most categories. learning, sports, popularity, life success... and now photography. it's hard not to do... but i know that a good number of them are comparing themselves to me too, which is so silly.
i don't have any actual conclusions about the above... i suppose i'd rather hear YOUR interpretation about why we feel the need to compare ourselves in general. i mean... who really cares?
well... besides me of course. carry on.
i've noticed recently that i pay a large amount of attention to what other people are picking up in a store when i'm there. or, more to the point, i pay attention to what OTHER people are also picking up the same items that i am. i have a thing about shopping in large bargain stores like H&M, because i really don't want to be caught on the subway wearing the same thing as some frumpy woman with 80s bangs. is that bad?
here's my amazing seque from comparison shopping to 'comparison shopping'... i slay me really. i notice that i worry too much about what other people are creating. i tend to comparison shop my talent. not 'shop FOR talent' or put my talent up for shopping, in a highway 99 ripped stocking, i'll give you a treat for twenty dollars kind of way (holy tangent). i mean that i look at what my peers are putting out (photographically speaking) and compare my work. one really shouldn't do that when talking about art and creation... but i still tend to do it. i compare myself... like i have every day of my life in most categories. learning, sports, popularity, life success... and now photography. it's hard not to do... but i know that a good number of them are comparing themselves to me too, which is so silly.
i don't have any actual conclusions about the above... i suppose i'd rather hear YOUR interpretation about why we feel the need to compare ourselves in general. i mean... who really cares?
well... besides me of course. carry on.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
make it snappy... snappy
i know normal people would complain when they have to work seven day workweeks, but not me... because i'm CRAZY! luckily both of my career outlets are different from each other, and one allows me to get creative and meet fun and interesting new(ish) people.
i bought a new camera last week, and spent the last two days testing it out. i'm going to have to memorize the manual, but for now, please enjoy the joyousness that is my new canon 40d (her name is samantha fyi).
this is amy:
and this is tristan:
i really do love working with actors... they tend to be really expressive and up for anything festive (which i appreciate).
i found myself walking around manhattan today with tristan (who is actually a friend of mine from seattle that now lives here as well... but he's not prehistoric...obv), and we witnessed thousands of marathon runners enjoying (or suffering through) the first few moments after finishing the race. i've made one serious conclusion about marathon runners... crazy. these people are crazy. i'll just be over here, thinking about the situps that i'll never do.
bon weekend... i'm just exhausted.
i bought a new camera last week, and spent the last two days testing it out. i'm going to have to memorize the manual, but for now, please enjoy the joyousness that is my new canon 40d (her name is samantha fyi).
this is amy:
and this is tristan:
i really do love working with actors... they tend to be really expressive and up for anything festive (which i appreciate).
i found myself walking around manhattan today with tristan (who is actually a friend of mine from seattle that now lives here as well... but he's not prehistoric...obv), and we witnessed thousands of marathon runners enjoying (or suffering through) the first few moments after finishing the race. i've made one serious conclusion about marathon runners... crazy. these people are crazy. i'll just be over here, thinking about the situps that i'll never do.
bon weekend... i'm just exhausted.
Friday, November 2, 2007
creating magic via combination...
have you ever had the good fortune of hiccuping and burping at the same time? i just experienced a hiccurp for the first time... sort of a hic-BLEEEUURGGH moment of brillance.
thank god i was in the elevator alone... how mortifying.
thank god i was in the elevator alone... how mortifying.
climbing trees or basically acting like a monkey...
i used to love climbing trees, i was such a tomboy... always with scraped up knees and holes in my jeans. i was the youthful equivalent of a monkey... constantly upside down, building tree forts, running amuk (as it were) and engaging in general tomfoolery (isn't that such a great word btw?).
so it's fitting now, in my later years of ladylike behavior (guffaw) that i analogize dating tall men with climbing trees. i'm sorry but i'm TALL. on a good day i'm almost 5'10" and in 87% of the shoes that i own, i'm 6 feet tall. so if you aren't at LEAST six feet tall, it's just not going to work... it's not. there will be no romance, i will never imagine you scooping me up by the back pockets of my jeans and slamming me up against a wall (overshare perhaps?? bygones), and i will not be made to feel petite and protected. because really, even at glamazon height, we want to feel protected.
so last night i had a first date with an actual tree, and it felt great to walk down the sidewalk arm in arm, with my shoulders and neck comfortably fitting into the nook like i belonged there. i... LOVED... it. dinner was quite lovely, we ate at the rocking horse cafe in chelsea, really interesting and well done upscale mexican food... and just about the strongest margarita i've ever had. they had pear, so of course i ordered the pear. but really, a pear (or the essence of pear in the case of this margarita) did nothing to mask the taste of tequila, so really it was like drinking one nonstop frozen shot of cuervo. and you know what? i loved every minute of it.
i'm off in search of coffee (or as one friend mocks, how can i possibly be searching for it if there's a starbucks on every corner), and tomorrow remind me to talk about my obsession with babywipes. i don't want to forget.
carry on...
so it's fitting now, in my later years of ladylike behavior (guffaw) that i analogize dating tall men with climbing trees. i'm sorry but i'm TALL. on a good day i'm almost 5'10" and in 87% of the shoes that i own, i'm 6 feet tall. so if you aren't at LEAST six feet tall, it's just not going to work... it's not. there will be no romance, i will never imagine you scooping me up by the back pockets of my jeans and slamming me up against a wall (overshare perhaps?? bygones), and i will not be made to feel petite and protected. because really, even at glamazon height, we want to feel protected.
so last night i had a first date with an actual tree, and it felt great to walk down the sidewalk arm in arm, with my shoulders and neck comfortably fitting into the nook like i belonged there. i... LOVED... it. dinner was quite lovely, we ate at the rocking horse cafe in chelsea, really interesting and well done upscale mexican food... and just about the strongest margarita i've ever had. they had pear, so of course i ordered the pear. but really, a pear (or the essence of pear in the case of this margarita) did nothing to mask the taste of tequila, so really it was like drinking one nonstop frozen shot of cuervo. and you know what? i loved every minute of it.
i'm off in search of coffee (or as one friend mocks, how can i possibly be searching for it if there's a starbucks on every corner), and tomorrow remind me to talk about my obsession with babywipes. i don't want to forget.
carry on...
Thursday, November 1, 2007
pushing all the wrong buttons...
the time has come, to push the button. sorry... lyrics.
anyway, i've been picking up a few festive winter tidbits (in the clothing arena, of course), and i'm noticing that i am at CONSTANT war with the buttons on my shiitake. last week, i found that both of the cute little buttons on the sleeve of a new shirt had popped off, the middle button of my new sweater had come off (luckily id kept the extra button b/c it's rather large and noticeable when missing), the short sleeved work appropriate little jackety thing i bought... the button popped off of the first day. now i KNOW i sometimes have a problem with corners, meaning i cut them too short, and am always walking into walls... so maybe i'm just snagging these buttons on corners, or am too rough with myself as the day goes by. who knows really. all i'm saying, is that i can't seem to keep the buttons on my clothing. if i had a boyfriend, he'd like this about me... however i do not... and therefore, need my buttons.
normally when i buy new clothes and remove the tags, that extra little envelope (or baggie as the case may be) with the standby button gets tossed right into the garbage. eff that. seriously, i'm now going to take up a button collection, because even in new clothes i somehow manage to look like an utter hobo. hobo chic is in right? eeeesh.
i'm enjoying my morning latte and croissant (yes i realize its afternoon but just go with me here.. and yes i pronounce croissant in my french maid accent) and i really love the advent of this festive little coffee lid. you pull back the tab and it tucks neatly into a premade little nook, so it stays open and you can enjoy your coffee. so fancy. who THOUGHT of that? i'd like to give them a high five.
and then i'd also like to meet the inventor of pantyhose... whoever HE is (b/c come on...it's clearly a he)... and punch him in the face.
carry on.
anyway, i've been picking up a few festive winter tidbits (in the clothing arena, of course), and i'm noticing that i am at CONSTANT war with the buttons on my shiitake. last week, i found that both of the cute little buttons on the sleeve of a new shirt had popped off, the middle button of my new sweater had come off (luckily id kept the extra button b/c it's rather large and noticeable when missing), the short sleeved work appropriate little jackety thing i bought... the button popped off of the first day. now i KNOW i sometimes have a problem with corners, meaning i cut them too short, and am always walking into walls... so maybe i'm just snagging these buttons on corners, or am too rough with myself as the day goes by. who knows really. all i'm saying, is that i can't seem to keep the buttons on my clothing. if i had a boyfriend, he'd like this about me... however i do not... and therefore, need my buttons.
normally when i buy new clothes and remove the tags, that extra little envelope (or baggie as the case may be) with the standby button gets tossed right into the garbage. eff that. seriously, i'm now going to take up a button collection, because even in new clothes i somehow manage to look like an utter hobo. hobo chic is in right? eeeesh.
i'm enjoying my morning latte and croissant (yes i realize its afternoon but just go with me here.. and yes i pronounce croissant in my french maid accent) and i really love the advent of this festive little coffee lid. you pull back the tab and it tucks neatly into a premade little nook, so it stays open and you can enjoy your coffee. so fancy. who THOUGHT of that? i'd like to give them a high five.
and then i'd also like to meet the inventor of pantyhose... whoever HE is (b/c come on...it's clearly a he)... and punch him in the face.
carry on.
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