It is a lot easier for me to write about things once I have a certain amount of distance between me and the subject, but this time around I thought I might talk to you all for a minute. Now I don’t want anyone writing to me about it, or calling me, or anything like that. That’s not why I write. I don’t need people to assure me that things will be all right with the world because, to quote my friend Jimmy (there are two now!), “that’s not the way I roll.” So, the moral of the story is, don’t write to me about this Blog because I won’t respond.
That being said, I wanted to tell you all about my grandmother. Ardelle Lillian McLean, or as we all call her, Nonnie (“nonni” means grandparents in Italian, so “Nonnie” is some sort of derivative of that) has always been in my life. Since shortly after my 7th birthday, she even lived only a block away from me. Nonnie’s the kind of woman who is always prim and proper when the situation calls for manners, but whispers naughty things behind her napkin to you. She taught me to chew my food twenty times per mouthful (that lesson never took), to hug and kiss people I just met, and to always exclaim “What pretty wrapping paper!” whenever I receive a present of some sort. She likes to pinch people’s bottoms (or, “pinch their coolies” as she says), whether she’s just met them or even if she’s known them for years. Whenever I would visit, I would be forced to eat all the leftovers in the refrigerator and, if she didn’t have any cash on hand, she would send me home with a ziplock baggie of change. She taught me how to shellac plastic eggs that we’d decorated, and how to make the best gosh-darn artichokes you’ve ever had. I raked her leaves in the Fall, shoveled her walkway in the Winter, watched her weed her garden in the Spring, and had her over to our swimming pool in the Summer. Danny and I used to go over her house just to watch cable, which we never had when we were kids. Nonnie’s house is where I first saw MTV, watched Batman (Kapow! Bang! Pop!), and snuck candy out of my grandparent’s private stash. Before I had braces, Nonnie helped me learn to stop sucking my fingers by giving me gold stars for each day I didn’t stick them in my mouth. We spent many summer days at Salisbury Beach, and she was always bringing me out on the town for a new adventure. Everything was “simply mah-velous” or wonderful to her. She was inspired by all the beautiful things in the world and loved to travel. Everyone I know – and even people I don’t – adores my Nonnie.
Things aren’t the same anymore. Last Monday I took the train to Massachusetts to visit my mom and my Nonnie. Nonnie is sick with leukemia and she’s dying. For the past two weeks or so she’s been wonderfully assisted by hospice care, but for a long time my mom has been over there every day taking care of the little things: bathing her, assisting her when she needs to relieve herself, helping Grampie feed her and give her medicine. Mom has also been dealing with the many friends and relatives who wish to visit or call or send packages or whatever. It’s been a very difficult time for her and Grampie, and it really hits me when I go home. There are days when my grandmother seems well, and days when she is exhausted. She’s usually in pain, and she often can’t remember if one of her good friends visited her the day before.
I know that many of you have lost people you’ve cared about, but I don’t know how many of you have had to go through the long, drawn-out, painful process of watching someone die over a matter of days, months, years…whatever length of time. My friend Starr recently went through this, as she was her grandmother’s primary caregiver, but we’ve never really discussed it.
In any case, it’s been a very painful process even for me, as someone who doesn’t have to take care of all the everyday minutiae as Mom and Grampie do. I visited Nonnie on the Tuesday before Christmas, for a little over two hours. It was the first time I had been home in months. My grandmother used to be a fairly sizeable woman; she is now little more than a human skeleton. She can hardly even move on her own.
I brought her some Christmas presents she may never even get to enjoy – a Dr. Seuss book that my mom promised to read to her, and a box of chocolates so Nonnie could indulge a little. While I was there, we didn’t talk about anything important. Mom, Grampie and I just kept up a conversation so Nonnie would know we were there. It was a bad day; she was tired and in pain. I helped Mom give her some Morphine to help with that.
The most difficult thing for me was being left alone with her. It makes her so tired to talk, so the onus was on me to make conversation, but what do you do? I felt so helpless. There is nothing I can do that will make her any better. I don’t even know how to arrange her on the bed so she is most comfortable.
The best I could do was be there to show her I love her.
I guess in a way it makes me realize how important the holidays have always been to me. To be able to see all the friends and family I don’t always see due to time and distance – even if we don’t always like each other. To buy my loved ones little gifts, and remember their birthdays, and celebrate important events – I enjoy doing the small things to show that I love them.
This Christmas season I think I did a lot more than I intended, and I know that I am thankful for the time I was able to spend with family and friends. I seem to have enjoyed this season more than most and been truly rewarded with happy moments to remember for always.
So I thank you Mom, Grampie, Nonnie, Vincent, Grampie Trap, Danny, Corinne, Susan and Joe, Aunt Barbara and Uncle Jim, Vince Sr., Jane, Allie and friends, Aunt June and Uncle Tony, Cousins Bruno and Nick and Jimmy, Nicole and Christian, Grandmom and Grandpop, Ruth and Mitchell, Blake and Chad, Annie and Jerry, Uncle Kenny, Aunt Kathy, my other Aunty Kathy, Corinne, Jimmy, Tom, Garland, Jaeson, Lisa, Aaron, Eric, Starr and Kathryn… and anyone else who spent any time over the holidays with me.
It was a wonderful (if not busy) time and I love you all.
Tuesday, December 16, 2003
I quit.
Well, my official resignation date is 5 January 2003, but my last day in the office was last Friday. I am now officially a recovering Special Agent. I wonder if there’s a self-help group for people like me. Or perhaps I’ll turn into Ed Norton’s character in Fight Club and just attend all self-help groups, even for problems I don’t even have. Or perhaps not.
I would have written sooner and kept you abreast of the situation, but I have been kept rather busy these last few weeks, weekends, etc. Just recently I worked on the Queen of Spain’s detail in New York, the day after I returned from a family vacation in New Orleans. That cut right into my birthday celebration, or, to be more precise, erased it entirely. I had to celebrate two days late I’ll have you know!
Then I was detailed to the Former Vice Premier and Foreign Minister of the People’s Republic of China, after which I spent every waking moment closing out my cases and completing paperwork for my resignation.
Last Friday I walked out of the New York Field Office for the last time. It was rather exciting.
Then Katherine, Vince and I had a mini celebration that evening. The rest of the weekend was spent shopping with Vince Sr., Ruth, Mitchell, Mac, Jane, Bob, and our favorite Philly girl, Corinne. I’m still kicking myself for not buying a matching pair of hot pink galoshes to go with Corinne! We were out all day in a snowstorm and not once did I go back to the store to buy, buy, BUY as we consumers are taught to do. What on earth was I thinking???
So now I have the next two and a half weeks off to “enjoy” the holidays. Of course, I have already filled up my days to the brim, what with Christmas parties, family gatherings, random trips to the Shore for New Years, and the like. My new “job,” or rather, jobs, begin in January. Although do not let me mislead you – I am not getting paid. I’ve decided to take on two internships in the entertainment field, in the hopes that they will give me the credibility and experience to get a full-time paying job. One is primarily talent management, and the other is primarily production. However, both companies are incredibly small (about 4-6 employees each) so I will probably end up doing quite a bit and gaining oodles of experience! And of course, both have the potential to become paying jobs, if I prove myself to be the responsible, intelligent person that we all know that I am! So I have that going for me.
I’ve also gone through the first round of interviews for William Morris, which is one of the most widely recognized talent agencies. Apparently the interview process is a multi-stepped ordeal and, much like my past job, I am not supposed to stop my life just because they called. Each step is a competitive process. They’ve invited me to send in an updated resume after I begin at my internships. With any luck, this will lead to something as well!
So that’s the gist of my life right now. What a scary, exciting time it is!
Well, my official resignation date is 5 January 2003, but my last day in the office was last Friday. I am now officially a recovering Special Agent. I wonder if there’s a self-help group for people like me. Or perhaps I’ll turn into Ed Norton’s character in Fight Club and just attend all self-help groups, even for problems I don’t even have. Or perhaps not.
I would have written sooner and kept you abreast of the situation, but I have been kept rather busy these last few weeks, weekends, etc. Just recently I worked on the Queen of Spain’s detail in New York, the day after I returned from a family vacation in New Orleans. That cut right into my birthday celebration, or, to be more precise, erased it entirely. I had to celebrate two days late I’ll have you know!
Then I was detailed to the Former Vice Premier and Foreign Minister of the People’s Republic of China, after which I spent every waking moment closing out my cases and completing paperwork for my resignation.
Last Friday I walked out of the New York Field Office for the last time. It was rather exciting.
Then Katherine, Vince and I had a mini celebration that evening. The rest of the weekend was spent shopping with Vince Sr., Ruth, Mitchell, Mac, Jane, Bob, and our favorite Philly girl, Corinne. I’m still kicking myself for not buying a matching pair of hot pink galoshes to go with Corinne! We were out all day in a snowstorm and not once did I go back to the store to buy, buy, BUY as we consumers are taught to do. What on earth was I thinking???
So now I have the next two and a half weeks off to “enjoy” the holidays. Of course, I have already filled up my days to the brim, what with Christmas parties, family gatherings, random trips to the Shore for New Years, and the like. My new “job,” or rather, jobs, begin in January. Although do not let me mislead you – I am not getting paid. I’ve decided to take on two internships in the entertainment field, in the hopes that they will give me the credibility and experience to get a full-time paying job. One is primarily talent management, and the other is primarily production. However, both companies are incredibly small (about 4-6 employees each) so I will probably end up doing quite a bit and gaining oodles of experience! And of course, both have the potential to become paying jobs, if I prove myself to be the responsible, intelligent person that we all know that I am!
I’ve also gone through the first round of interviews for William Morris, which is one of the most widely recognized talent agencies. Apparently the interview process is a multi-stepped ordeal and, much like my past job, I am not supposed to stop my life just because they called. Each step is a competitive process. They’ve invited me to send in an updated resume after I begin at my internships. With any luck, this will lead to something as well!
So that’s the gist of my life right now. What a scary, exciting time it is!
Wednesday, November 05, 2003
Today while I was navigating Friendster, I got one of those forwards nobody likes to get but we all fill out when we’re bored, so I thought I’d share my responses with you (whether you want it or not):
1. WHAT IS YOUR MIDDLE NAME?
McLean
2. WHAT KIND OF PANTS ARE YOU WEARING AND WHAT COLOR?
Camel-colored corderoys with rivets running down the side; they're Vincent's favorite because he likes the way they hug my tushie...
3. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
Vincent ripping every last one of our CDs into MP3s. He has to listen to each song individually to make sure there are no skips. During Depeche Mode week I wanted to kill myself...
4. WHAT ARE THE LAST 4 DIGITS OF YOUR PHONE NUMBER?
What the f&#$? If you loved me, you'd already know.
5. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?
Leftover Halloween candy. A Snickers Cruncher bar.
6. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
Today, pink.
7. HOW IS THE WEATHER RIGHT NOW?
Completely uninspiring. And today was supposed to be the first day of the rest of my life...
8. LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
One of the most beautiful people I know, my friend Starr. Either that or this pregnant lady (two weeks til due date) I made cry yesterday when I told her she had committed a felony when she committed passport fraud. I don't remember which.
9. THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX?
Face. And if they're arrogant.
10. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT YOU THIS?
Katy should be ashamed.
11. HOW ARE YOU TODAY?
Depressed. Who the heck asked for daylight savings time so we could all get out of work at the onset of darkness??!
12. FAVORITE DRINK?
Water and cammomile tea.
13. FAVORITE ALCOHOLIC DRINK?
I like my men like I like my alcohol: sweet and intoxicating. Therefore, Baileys on the rocks.
14. FAVORITE SPORTS?
In my fantasy-land, or in real life? Because I really think rock-climbing is the sport for me; I just haven't climbed a cliff yet (not the way you're supposed to anyway). In real life, I've dabbled in track & field, soccer, tae kwon do, hiking, volleyball... You name it, I've tried it. And just for the record, if we're playing football, two-hand touch is for weenies.
15. HAIR COLOR?
Brown.
16. EYE COLOR?
My dad says I'm so full of crap my eyes turned brown. But this also comes from the man who claims I have the most beautiful blue eyes he's ever seen...
17. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
Um, not if I want to see.
18. SIBLINGS AND THEIR AGES?
My one and only, Dan, 26. My mom also has two mutts she tells everyone are my sisters.
19. FAVORITE MONTH?
September/October - when the leaves are changing and the weather is rather consistent.
20. FAVORITE FOOD?
Anything my mom cooks. Nepalese / German / Irish / Italian fare. My own cooking. Vegetables. Fruits. Starches. I ABHOR fast food.
21. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
In the theatre: Under the Tuscan Sun, Lost in Translation and Kill Bill are amongst the latest. Tonight I am going to see Matrix: Revolutions.
Rental: Adaptation, 8 Women
Sundance Film Channel: Spin the Bottle, Bartleby
I recommend all three I saw in the theatre and NOTHING, I repeat, NOTHING I rented or TIVOed.
22. FAVORITE DAY OF THE YEAR?
Thanksgiving, by far. Who isn't a fan of a holiday devoted entirely to eating too much, unbuttoning your pants, and watching your family wash the dishes as you slowly pass out...?
23. ARE YOU TOO SHY TO ASK SOMEONE OUT?
Thus far, I've asked out most of my men. Many people look at me like I've lost my marbles, but that's the way the cookie crumbles, folks.
24. DO YOU LIKE SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
Neither. I like depressing endings that are true to life and lend some sort of life lesson. But if I have to choose, I would go for happy endings as I don't take to being frightened very well. I was always scared of the dark as a child.
25. SUMMER OR WINTER?
Yes.
26. HUGS OR KISSES?
Big, old, snuggly hugs.
28. CHOCOLATE OR VANILLA?
Chocolate, but that's only because I hate vanilla even more than I hate chocolate.
29. DO YOU WANT YOUR FRIENDS TO WRITEBACK?
Yes, but the real question is, WILL THEY? (Reminder to all, I have a gun and I know where you live...)
30. WHO IS MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
Whoever is most bored at the moment. Like me right now.
31. WHO IS LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
People who have a life.
32. WHAT BOOKS ARE YOU READING?
Harry Potter.
33. WHAT'S ON YOUR SCREEN SAVER/DESKTOP?
An orangish black abstract of a sky, I believe.
34. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?
Scrabble. Or Clue. Maybe even Life.
35. WHAT DID YOU DO LAST NIGHT?
Staid out late at work for something called Crim Night. Which basically means that we all stay up to midnight, scouring around the slumiest neighborhoods in New York, looking for some poor schmucks who lied on their passport applications. Really, it doesn't get any better than this...
36. FAVORITE SMELL
The hint of Autumn on the wind. A crackling fire. Hot apple cider. Laundry vents. Chlorinated swimming pools. Baby powder. Thanksgiving.
37. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING?
Chi-chi, you're a 23-pound cat and you're not starving so shut the fah-zuck up!!!
1. WHAT IS YOUR MIDDLE NAME?
McLean
2. WHAT KIND OF PANTS ARE YOU WEARING AND WHAT COLOR?
Camel-colored corderoys with rivets running down the side; they're Vincent's favorite because he likes the way they hug my tushie...
3. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
Vincent ripping every last one of our CDs into MP3s. He has to listen to each song individually to make sure there are no skips. During Depeche Mode week I wanted to kill myself...
4. WHAT ARE THE LAST 4 DIGITS OF YOUR PHONE NUMBER?
What the f&#$? If you loved me, you'd already know.
5. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?
Leftover Halloween candy. A Snickers Cruncher bar.
6. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
Today, pink.
7. HOW IS THE WEATHER RIGHT NOW?
Completely uninspiring. And today was supposed to be the first day of the rest of my life...
8. LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
One of the most beautiful people I know, my friend Starr. Either that or this pregnant lady (two weeks til due date) I made cry yesterday when I told her she had committed a felony when she committed passport fraud. I don't remember which.
9. THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX?
Face. And if they're arrogant.
10. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT YOU THIS?
Katy should be ashamed.
11. HOW ARE YOU TODAY?
Depressed. Who the heck asked for daylight savings time so we could all get out of work at the onset of darkness??!
12. FAVORITE DRINK?
Water and cammomile tea.
13. FAVORITE ALCOHOLIC DRINK?
I like my men like I like my alcohol: sweet and intoxicating. Therefore, Baileys on the rocks.
14. FAVORITE SPORTS?
In my fantasy-land, or in real life? Because I really think rock-climbing is the sport for me; I just haven't climbed a cliff yet (not the way you're supposed to anyway). In real life, I've dabbled in track & field, soccer, tae kwon do, hiking, volleyball... You name it, I've tried it. And just for the record, if we're playing football, two-hand touch is for weenies.
15. HAIR COLOR?
Brown.
16. EYE COLOR?
My dad says I'm so full of crap my eyes turned brown. But this also comes from the man who claims I have the most beautiful blue eyes he's ever seen...
17. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
Um, not if I want to see.
18. SIBLINGS AND THEIR AGES?
My one and only, Dan, 26. My mom also has two mutts she tells everyone are my sisters.
19. FAVORITE MONTH?
September/October - when the leaves are changing and the weather is rather consistent.
20. FAVORITE FOOD?
Anything my mom cooks. Nepalese / German / Irish / Italian fare. My own cooking. Vegetables. Fruits. Starches. I ABHOR fast food.
21. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
In the theatre: Under the Tuscan Sun, Lost in Translation and Kill Bill are amongst the latest. Tonight I am going to see Matrix: Revolutions.
Rental: Adaptation, 8 Women
Sundance Film Channel: Spin the Bottle, Bartleby
I recommend all three I saw in the theatre and NOTHING, I repeat, NOTHING I rented or TIVOed.
22. FAVORITE DAY OF THE YEAR?
Thanksgiving, by far. Who isn't a fan of a holiday devoted entirely to eating too much, unbuttoning your pants, and watching your family wash the dishes as you slowly pass out...?
23. ARE YOU TOO SHY TO ASK SOMEONE OUT?
Thus far, I've asked out most of my men. Many people look at me like I've lost my marbles, but that's the way the cookie crumbles, folks.
24. DO YOU LIKE SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
Neither. I like depressing endings that are true to life and lend some sort of life lesson. But if I have to choose, I would go for happy endings as I don't take to being frightened very well. I was always scared of the dark as a child.
25. SUMMER OR WINTER?
Yes.
26. HUGS OR KISSES?
Big, old, snuggly hugs.
28. CHOCOLATE OR VANILLA?
Chocolate, but that's only because I hate vanilla even more than I hate chocolate.
29. DO YOU WANT YOUR FRIENDS TO WRITEBACK?
Yes, but the real question is, WILL THEY? (Reminder to all, I have a gun and I know where you live...
30. WHO IS MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
Whoever is most bored at the moment. Like me right now.
31. WHO IS LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
People who have a life.
32. WHAT BOOKS ARE YOU READING?
Harry Potter.
33. WHAT'S ON YOUR SCREEN SAVER/DESKTOP?
An orangish black abstract of a sky, I believe.
34. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?
Scrabble. Or Clue. Maybe even Life.
35. WHAT DID YOU DO LAST NIGHT?
Staid out late at work for something called Crim Night. Which basically means that we all stay up to midnight, scouring around the slumiest neighborhoods in New York, looking for some poor schmucks who lied on their passport applications. Really, it doesn't get any better than this...
36. FAVORITE SMELL
The hint of Autumn on the wind. A crackling fire. Hot apple cider. Laundry vents. Chlorinated swimming pools. Baby powder. Thanksgiving.
37. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING?
Chi-chi, you're a 23-pound cat and you're not starving so shut the fah-zuck up!!!
Friday, October 24, 2003
I had the talk. You know, the “TALK.” I told my supervisor I plan on leaving DS. The good news? He took it well – better than I ever expected. He told me to go ahead and keep working in the New York office for the salary and benefits, and if I need to go to an interview, just let him know. He gave me that whole, “You need to do what makes you happy” speech. Well, he actually sounded more like Vincent when he said to me, “A job is just something you do for money. You put in your hours and you go home. When the job starts taking away from your life at home, then maybe you need to consider changing careers.” So that was that. I am still working at DS, but I am actively seeking other employment. Now if I could only find the time to send out that pesky resume…
In other news, I spent two weekends away from home since last I wrote. I’ve been to Philadelphia and the Poconos. Philly was an action-packed adventure, as always, with my lovely Corinne, Jimmy and Tom making sure there was never a dull moment! I saw dentists and doctors, tailors and sushi chefs, bartenders and hangovers, Sabrina’s and Bump, one senator and gay boys galore… It was an eventful three days and I was sorry to see it pass. I miss my Philly trio already!!!
As for the Poconos, it was a quiet time at the Balloon Festival in Shawnee. I got to see about twenty hot air balloons take off into the clear blue skies, and was even invited to join a balloon rescue team (which basically takes their van and chases down their balloon so they can pick the occupants up when the thing floats out of the sky). I ate sinfully delicious home-cooked meals cooked by our friend Marty at our favorite B&B, The Brookview Manor, and tracked down a god-awful flea market. And as per usual, I grabbed my Vincent and dragged him out into the woods, where I forced him on a half-day march to a hidden waterfall in the woods behind the B&B. It was wonderful.
Of course, my pleasantries were cut short when I realized I had to be in Burlington, New Jersey for training at Fort Dix on Sunday night. I have just returned from four days of shooting paper targets with both simunition rounds and hollow point bullets. I even requalified on my pistol. What joy. Watch me do somersaults and flips. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee…..
So, there you are. A relatively short blurb on me and my life.
In other news, I spent two weekends away from home since last I wrote. I’ve been to Philadelphia and the Poconos. Philly was an action-packed adventure, as always, with my lovely Corinne, Jimmy and Tom making sure there was never a dull moment! I saw dentists and doctors, tailors and sushi chefs, bartenders and hangovers, Sabrina’s and Bump, one senator and gay boys galore… It was an eventful three days and I was sorry to see it pass. I miss my Philly trio already!!!
As for the Poconos, it was a quiet time at the Balloon Festival in Shawnee. I got to see about twenty hot air balloons take off into the clear blue skies, and was even invited to join a balloon rescue team (which basically takes their van and chases down their balloon so they can pick the occupants up when the thing floats out of the sky). I ate sinfully delicious home-cooked meals cooked by our friend Marty at our favorite B&B, The Brookview Manor, and tracked down a god-awful flea market. And as per usual, I grabbed my Vincent and dragged him out into the woods, where I forced him on a half-day march to a hidden waterfall in the woods behind the B&B. It was wonderful.
Of course, my pleasantries were cut short when I realized I had to be in Burlington, New Jersey for training at Fort Dix on Sunday night. I have just returned from four days of shooting paper targets with both simunition rounds and hollow point bullets. I even requalified on my pistol. What joy. Watch me do somersaults and flips. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee…..
So, there you are. A relatively short blurb on me and my life.
Tuesday, October 07, 2003
Today was a nice day. Vincent and I played hookey to go see a live viewing of The View, some sort of pro-woman talk show that I’ve never seen before. Today’s guests were Darryl Hannah and Kevin Bacon. What got me out of bed this morning was the prospect of seeing Quentin Tarantino, but he failed to show at the last minute and Darryl stood in for him instead. However, I was rewarded kindly for my loss, and the show gave me a free copy of the deluxe edition of The Lion King DVD, which just came out today. There is nothing like an unexpected gift to bring on a smile.
Then I got to buy a new leather purse as my lovely kitty, Daisy, peed all over my Ralph Lauren bag two nights ago. That just goes to show you that Ryan really shouldn’t buy expensive, name-brand things. Oh, how I will miss it!
Today I also decided that I have a love-hate relationship with New York City. Vincent and I have decided to definitely stay here at least until our lease runs out on the apartment (February 2005), so don’t start freaking out, Starr! But there are many things that I don’t like about this city. For one, there are too many choices. I know that a lot of people are thinking, what in the h-e-double hockey sticks is Ryan talking about?!!?! But seriously, think about it. No restaurant really lasts here so by the time you find some place you like, it’s already boarding up it’s doors and closing shop. I don’t really have the time to research every new restaurant, Broadway show, and nightclub. And then, because everything is so expensive here, I don’t want to end up wasting my money on something that is sub-par only to find out later that there was something incredible that I missed! I always feel out of the loop here.
And then there’s the issue of driving. New York drivers are far and away the WORST drivers on the planet! They are constantly breaking as if it’s going out of style! I am convinced that if there was one New York driver on a lonely stretch of road, they would still be slamming on their breaks out of habit.
The cabbies here also have this annoying habit of riding over two lanes so they can decide at any time to take one or the other. Which is great for them, but really sucky for the likes of me who is simply trying to pass the little bugger!
And don’t even get me started on the gypsy cabs!
Of course, there’s always the pedestrians. I honestly think they need to time each light to have three settings: one light turns green for one direction of traffic, then one light turns green for another lane of traffic, and finally one white walk sign lights up for the pedestrians while all traffic stops. This way, if you find a pedestrian crossing on the red “Do Not Walk” sign, you are completely free to run them down like the annoying little mucus-eaters they are! As a driver, I HATE pedestrians!!! (Amusingly enough, my ONE key ring says, “So many pedestrians, so little time!” – and this was given to me by my dear friend Joanna in high school, shortly after I got my license.)
When you get to my neighborhood, there’s also the problem of finding somewhere to shop. If I wanted to dress like an overcharged hoochie or eat at McDonalds, then this would be the place to be. As I do not, the only stores I frequent are CVS and the Thayer Cleaners (dry cleaning) – they actually have excellent service and offer me something I need. The people in these shops even remember my name… it’s a beautiful thing. In our neighborhood, I also like the little diner called “Restaurant” that is located right down the street from our apartment. I get my traditional weekend breakfast there for a damn decent price.
For everything else, I must venture downtown. And that takes forever. Despite the fact that we live a half block from the A Express Train (which, if you’re not a New Yorker and need some explaining, is an incredibly GOOD thing), it still takes about an hour to get anywhere in town. Of course, there is always the car, but I’ve already mentioned my driving woes – to which you can add car accidents, construction crews, and the astronomical price of parking garages.
So there you have it: all the reasons why Ryan hates New York. And why, you ask, does Ryan love New York?
Since you asked, I will tell you. I love New York because I live in a 3-bedroom, 2-bath apartment in the most exciting city in the world! I can see Broadway, go shopping, take in a concert, eat out – and never do anything twice! The world is at my fingertips. It is simply amazing.
We are also closer now to our friends Mark and Toni, Starr and Kathryn, Dara and Mark… and after being away from them so long, it is a wonderful thing to make plans for an evening that don’t have to include a birthday or major holiday…
Oh crappola, I lost my train of thought – Vince came in with today’s mail and I couldn’t resist going through everything! I noticed that none of you sent me a letter today…
Then I got to buy a new leather purse as my lovely kitty, Daisy, peed all over my Ralph Lauren bag two nights ago. That just goes to show you that Ryan really shouldn’t buy expensive, name-brand things. Oh, how I will miss it!
Today I also decided that I have a love-hate relationship with New York City. Vincent and I have decided to definitely stay here at least until our lease runs out on the apartment (February 2005), so don’t start freaking out, Starr! But there are many things that I don’t like about this city. For one, there are too many choices. I know that a lot of people are thinking, what in the h-e-double hockey sticks is Ryan talking about?!!?! But seriously, think about it. No restaurant really lasts here so by the time you find some place you like, it’s already boarding up it’s doors and closing shop. I don’t really have the time to research every new restaurant, Broadway show, and nightclub. And then, because everything is so expensive here, I don’t want to end up wasting my money on something that is sub-par only to find out later that there was something incredible that I missed! I always feel out of the loop here.
And then there’s the issue of driving. New York drivers are far and away the WORST drivers on the planet! They are constantly breaking as if it’s going out of style! I am convinced that if there was one New York driver on a lonely stretch of road, they would still be slamming on their breaks out of habit.
The cabbies here also have this annoying habit of riding over two lanes so they can decide at any time to take one or the other. Which is great for them, but really sucky for the likes of me who is simply trying to pass the little bugger!
And don’t even get me started on the gypsy cabs!
Of course, there’s always the pedestrians. I honestly think they need to time each light to have three settings: one light turns green for one direction of traffic, then one light turns green for another lane of traffic, and finally one white walk sign lights up for the pedestrians while all traffic stops. This way, if you find a pedestrian crossing on the red “Do Not Walk” sign, you are completely free to run them down like the annoying little mucus-eaters they are! As a driver, I HATE pedestrians!!! (Amusingly enough, my ONE key ring says, “So many pedestrians, so little time!” – and this was given to me by my dear friend Joanna in high school, shortly after I got my license.)
When you get to my neighborhood, there’s also the problem of finding somewhere to shop. If I wanted to dress like an overcharged hoochie or eat at McDonalds, then this would be the place to be. As I do not, the only stores I frequent are CVS and the Thayer Cleaners (dry cleaning) – they actually have excellent service and offer me something I need. The people in these shops even remember my name… it’s a beautiful thing. In our neighborhood, I also like the little diner called “Restaurant” that is located right down the street from our apartment. I get my traditional weekend breakfast there for a damn decent price.
For everything else, I must venture downtown. And that takes forever. Despite the fact that we live a half block from the A Express Train (which, if you’re not a New Yorker and need some explaining, is an incredibly GOOD thing), it still takes about an hour to get anywhere in town. Of course, there is always the car, but I’ve already mentioned my driving woes – to which you can add car accidents, construction crews, and the astronomical price of parking garages.
So there you have it: all the reasons why Ryan hates New York. And why, you ask, does Ryan love New York?
Since you asked, I will tell you. I love New York because I live in a 3-bedroom, 2-bath apartment in the most exciting city in the world! I can see Broadway, go shopping, take in a concert, eat out – and never do anything twice! The world is at my fingertips. It is simply amazing.
We are also closer now to our friends Mark and Toni, Starr and Kathryn, Dara and Mark… and after being away from them so long, it is a wonderful thing to make plans for an evening that don’t have to include a birthday or major holiday…
Oh crappola, I lost my train of thought – Vince came in with today’s mail and I couldn’t resist going through everything! I noticed that none of you sent me a letter today…
Sunday, October 05, 2003
In the past few weeks I’ve stored up a lot of memories that I need to get out before I forget all about them! You see, I find as I’m aging I am showing signs of growing up to be like my mother insofar as I seem to be losing my mind… and by that I mean that my short and long term memory seems to be failing me more than it used to. There are hints of a moment in time and trails of thought that lead nowhere. So consider this Blog preservation for posterity’s sake!
Well, I met the Dalai Lama a couple weeks ago. And I have a story. Right before the U.N. General Assembly and all that chaos was to begin, the Dalai Lama was in town, giving his teachings and making his visits. His protective detail was orchestrated by none other than the U.S. Department of State Diplomatic Security Service (say that three times fast!). So, when he toured in New York City, they called on some of us schmucks to help pre-post some of the bigger events. Pre-posting is just what it sounds like: before an event, you post a site with people to control crowds and keep everything in check. Well, one day I was pre-posting at the lecture series at the Beacon Theatre. Myself and four other guys were sent to post the lunch site (which happened to just be upstairs in the Beacon Hotel) – lucky for me, I was put in charge of the schedule and post assignments (bet the boys loved that one!!!). In any case, there were four posts: 1. downstairs at the elevator bank, 2. upstairs by the elevator bank, 3. upstairs by the food preparation room, and 4. upstairs by the Lama’s room. At the point that the DL was coming upstairs to eat, I was talking with the guy upstairs by the elevator bank. Well, to get to his room the DL would have to exit the elevators to the left, take a left, followed by another left and continue down the hallway to his room. At the first left, you can also go right and there are three more rooms down that hallway. So Simon (one of my guys) stood right at that turn in the center of the hallway, essentially blocking anyone’s path in that direction. His back was to the elevators. I stood right at his back, against the wall and facing the elevators. When the Dalai Lama got off the elevator, there were two men in his party who walked out before him. Both of them got out of the elevator and turned left. Well, the DL stepped out, locked eyes with me, and instead of turning left and following his colleagues, he turned right into Simon! Needless to say, Simon was a bit surprised, having not seen that one coming at all. And I had to stifle a smile as I extended my arm in the other direction and said, “This way, your holiness.” Well, the DL wasn’t even remotely flustered and he grabbed my arm in a gentle death grip kind of way and just grinned.
After we saw him safely to his room, we decided that flesh on flesh contact with the DL was good enough for a blessing of five years, while flesh to cloth contact was only good for about two. So far, I was ahead.
When the Lama came out of his room to return to the Theatre, he did it again! First he stopped and spoke to these two random women who somehow got rooms on the same floor – one of them burst into tears as soon as he touched her! (I swear, the Dalai Lama is like a rock star in that way!) Then I was standing there again, pointing him in the right direction and he grabbed my arm and just held it for a moment, staring into my eyes and smiling. So, according to my and Simon’s theory, I’m good for another 10 years or so! Next thing you know, I’ll be blessing YOU guys!!!
So enough of that foolishness. You can now officially say that your friend/child/random acquaintance/lover Ryan is a totally ridiculous personality with enough randomness in her life that she jokes about the Dalai Lama.
While the Dalai Lama was in the Theatre, I called my mom. My mom and San (that’s my stepdad) had just seen the DL in Boston when he was lecturing there. So I wanted to call and let them know of my good fortune in getting stuck on his protective detail. They were awfully excited so I told them all about how I’d like to take one of the monks (there were about 50 of them on stage with the Lama at this event) home with me and keep him for the good karma. I had mentioned this to Simon and he regarded me as a total freak after that, but I knew my mom would understand (she always does – that’s what mom’s are for). There is just something about all those monks that really marks them as different, and I’m not talking about their clothes or the Birkenstocks. There’s an inner peace they just exude, especially the older ones. And the Lama tops them all. Boy, would I love to take him home!!! It would be so nice to have someone around all the time who exudes gentle kindness at all times. That must be terribly relaxing… Needless to say, anyone reading my Blog at this point couldn’t possibly understand what I’m trying to convey unless you’ve actually seen the Lama. Had I not met the Lama, I would be regarding myself as a total fruitcake right now…
On to the United Nations General Assembly (UNGA)! I can honestly say that in my lifetime, I hope to never have to do something like this again!!! It has been more than a week since my protectee left, and I still feel drained. But let’s start at the beginning, shall we?
I returned from my forty days with the Secretary’s Detail (another experience I hope never to relive) just in time to begin my work as an advance agent for South Korea’s Foreign Minister Yoon Young Kwan. I took one day off to go rub shoulders with “the Lama” (I often say that in my head much like you would say “the Dude” to Jeff Bridges in The Big Lebowski) but the rest of my time was spent scouting locations, writing site surveys, and preparing things for a detail of six people, none of which are from the New York area. Let’s just say that most of my days prior to the Foreign Minister’s arrival began early and ended very, very, VERY MUCH past my bedtime.
Well, my detail began on Sunday, September 21. FM Kwan’s plane landed and we were off! I had some excellent people on my detail, including two NYPD detectives, an ATF guy, a U.S. Marshal’s Service guy, two guys from the Miami Field Office, and our Shift Leader, a guy out of the Chicago Field Office. The only kink in our plans was the Agent-In-Charge (AIC), this guy out of the New Orleans Resident Office.
At first I thought the AIC didn’t like me, and then I realized that he actually HATED me. By the middle of the week he was telling my detail that I am incompetent and he was telling me how to put one foot in front of the other. Every time I did something, he had something critical to say. And it wasn’t in that nice, constructive criticism kind of way. It was more of “I’m right, you’re wrong, so just accept it” kind of way. By Wednesday I was ready to punch the guy every time I saw him. So we became like Clark Kent and Superman – never in the same room at the same time. If he was coming, I was going – and vice versa.
Unfortunately, the rest of my detail had to deal with him instead. He was incredibly disrespectful to my entire team and I was impressed with the professionalism my type-A personality guys were able to put forth when dealing with him.
Lucky for us, nobody outside our detail ever knew of our problems within. My contacts at the Republic of Korea Mission/Consulate were extremely pleased with our level of protection and often bought our detail lunch or dinner when we were out. Once, the manager of the restaurant even paid for our meal!
In the end, our detail was one of the smoothest running details at UNGA. Many of us became friends and we all were united against the AIC. At the wheels up party (it’s called wheels up, because the protectee is no longer under our protection once “wheels up” for the airplane has been called), we even drank a toast to our AIC – to not having him there, that is!
For those of you in the NYC area, I highly suggest the wine bar/restaurant we went to that evening: Vin, at the corner of Northern Blvd and 163rd in Queens. The food is excellent and wine is superb! I’m not sure about the cost since our NYPD guy arranged the whole affair (the owner is a friend of his family) and the owner picked up our tab, but I am sure it is comparable to some of your moderately priced New York eateries.
After a while, we moved our party to downtown Manhattan and the Lit Lounge, where Vince and I were meeting up with friends for the evening. My detail guys came and they staid until the 6’6” ATF guy over-consumed and vomited on the floor. Which was alright with me because, as I’ve mentioned in other Blogs, there is only so much of my true personality that these cop boys can handle. And I was READY to PARTY! All our NYC crowd was there: Starr, Dara, Mark, Brandy, Michael, Katherine… let’s just say the party ended around noon on Sunday, when a fairly hungover Ryan was escorted home in a red Maxima chariot by her knight in shining armor, Vincent. Many thanks to all who were there…
During all this UNGA craziness, Vincent also decided to initiate me to this new thing called Friendster. If you haven’t tried it out yet, I think you should – especially now, while you still don’t have to pay for the service. It’s more addictive than crack and all you’re doing is trying to increase your number of friends. Looking at what I wrote, I wouldn’t be interested in the service either, but I think you should go ahead and at least check it out. You never know. When we were at the Lit Lounge last Saturday (the 27th), I added the bartender to my growing list of friends as I ordered another drink and he asked, “Are you on Friendster?” So I grabbed his email address and I am now connected to over 100,000 people! I think I will eventually grow tired of it, but for now you can find me there at least once every couple of days. (Go to www.friendster.com)
Well, now it’s back to that job thing. I was wondering if any of you guys knew people in any of the following fields: music, publishing, television, radio, movies – basically, a lot of the visual and audio arts. I think my next direction may be to try and find a job as an assistant of sorts (or work my way up to that). And if any of you know someone I should know, then I would love it if you could act as a conduit and pass my resume on up the line. Or, if you have any suggestions for jobs, I’m all ears (and no Andrew, I do NOT want to be a trash collector). Just let me know.
Other things I’ve done lately:
1. I went to a taping of the Late Night with Conan O’Brien show. I haven’t had a moment to watch the actual show yet, but it is highly probable that Vince and I were on t.v.
2. Vince and I went out to dinner and a broadway show on Friday: Tao and Nine. Tao is this Asian inspired restaurant that looks an awful lot like Buddhakhan in Philadelphia. The décor is fabulous, but the food is so-so – I will not be back for a return performance. And then Nine is this show with Antonio Banderas, Mary Stuart Masterson and Jane Krakowski (from Ally McBeal). I enjoyed it a lot – there were many great performances, and Antonio can really sing. Nine was a solid dramatic piece.
3. Last night (Saturday) Vince and I attended our friend Toni’s play in Greenwich, CT. She plays Julia in Agatha Christie’s “A Murder Is Announced.” She was fabulous and I would have told her so immediately had she not run off and disappeared so quickly! We finally caught her in the parking lot outside of her home, pizza and car keys in her hands. Then we invited ourselves in and spent some quality time with her, her hubby Mark, and Leo (their new kitty!). After all this time apart, it was nice to catch up.
4. I now suffer from a head cold. Pure misery.
Alright guys, I am winding down…The exhaustion that comes with being sick is catching up with me and I want to stop writing so I’ll just give you some teasers to look forward to in upcoming blogs:
• Philadelphia visit, October 11-13
• Poconos and hiking, October 17-19
• Da’ Momma and the Maize Maze in Massachusetts, October 25-27
• Punkin’ Chunkin’ (http://punkinchunkin.com), November 2
• New Orleans with Mom and Joe, November 12-15
• Eagles game, November 23
• Thanksgiving and mom visits NYC!, November 26-29
What fun!!!
Okay, I’m leaving you now. I’ll see you next time. Same bat time, same bat place, same bat channel…
Well, I met the Dalai Lama a couple weeks ago. And I have a story. Right before the U.N. General Assembly and all that chaos was to begin, the Dalai Lama was in town, giving his teachings and making his visits. His protective detail was orchestrated by none other than the U.S. Department of State Diplomatic Security Service (say that three times fast!). So, when he toured in New York City, they called on some of us schmucks to help pre-post some of the bigger events. Pre-posting is just what it sounds like: before an event, you post a site with people to control crowds and keep everything in check. Well, one day I was pre-posting at the lecture series at the Beacon Theatre. Myself and four other guys were sent to post the lunch site (which happened to just be upstairs in the Beacon Hotel) – lucky for me, I was put in charge of the schedule and post assignments (bet the boys loved that one!!!). In any case, there were four posts: 1. downstairs at the elevator bank, 2. upstairs by the elevator bank, 3. upstairs by the food preparation room, and 4. upstairs by the Lama’s room. At the point that the DL was coming upstairs to eat, I was talking with the guy upstairs by the elevator bank. Well, to get to his room the DL would have to exit the elevators to the left, take a left, followed by another left and continue down the hallway to his room. At the first left, you can also go right and there are three more rooms down that hallway. So Simon (one of my guys) stood right at that turn in the center of the hallway, essentially blocking anyone’s path in that direction. His back was to the elevators. I stood right at his back, against the wall and facing the elevators. When the Dalai Lama got off the elevator, there were two men in his party who walked out before him. Both of them got out of the elevator and turned left. Well, the DL stepped out, locked eyes with me, and instead of turning left and following his colleagues, he turned right into Simon! Needless to say, Simon was a bit surprised, having not seen that one coming at all. And I had to stifle a smile as I extended my arm in the other direction and said, “This way, your holiness.” Well, the DL wasn’t even remotely flustered and he grabbed my arm in a gentle death grip kind of way and just grinned.
After we saw him safely to his room, we decided that flesh on flesh contact with the DL was good enough for a blessing of five years, while flesh to cloth contact was only good for about two. So far, I was ahead.
When the Lama came out of his room to return to the Theatre, he did it again! First he stopped and spoke to these two random women who somehow got rooms on the same floor – one of them burst into tears as soon as he touched her! (I swear, the Dalai Lama is like a rock star in that way!) Then I was standing there again, pointing him in the right direction and he grabbed my arm and just held it for a moment, staring into my eyes and smiling. So, according to my and Simon’s theory, I’m good for another 10 years or so! Next thing you know, I’ll be blessing YOU guys!!!
So enough of that foolishness. You can now officially say that your friend/child/random acquaintance/lover Ryan is a totally ridiculous personality with enough randomness in her life that she jokes about the Dalai Lama.
While the Dalai Lama was in the Theatre, I called my mom. My mom and San (that’s my stepdad) had just seen the DL in Boston when he was lecturing there. So I wanted to call and let them know of my good fortune in getting stuck on his protective detail. They were awfully excited so I told them all about how I’d like to take one of the monks (there were about 50 of them on stage with the Lama at this event) home with me and keep him for the good karma. I had mentioned this to Simon and he regarded me as a total freak after that, but I knew my mom would understand (she always does – that’s what mom’s are for). There is just something about all those monks that really marks them as different, and I’m not talking about their clothes or the Birkenstocks. There’s an inner peace they just exude, especially the older ones. And the Lama tops them all. Boy, would I love to take him home!!! It would be so nice to have someone around all the time who exudes gentle kindness at all times. That must be terribly relaxing… Needless to say, anyone reading my Blog at this point couldn’t possibly understand what I’m trying to convey unless you’ve actually seen the Lama. Had I not met the Lama, I would be regarding myself as a total fruitcake right now…
On to the United Nations General Assembly (UNGA)! I can honestly say that in my lifetime, I hope to never have to do something like this again!!! It has been more than a week since my protectee left, and I still feel drained. But let’s start at the beginning, shall we?
I returned from my forty days with the Secretary’s Detail (another experience I hope never to relive) just in time to begin my work as an advance agent for South Korea’s Foreign Minister Yoon Young Kwan. I took one day off to go rub shoulders with “the Lama” (I often say that in my head much like you would say “the Dude” to Jeff Bridges in The Big Lebowski) but the rest of my time was spent scouting locations, writing site surveys, and preparing things for a detail of six people, none of which are from the New York area. Let’s just say that most of my days prior to the Foreign Minister’s arrival began early and ended very, very, VERY MUCH past my bedtime.
Well, my detail began on Sunday, September 21. FM Kwan’s plane landed and we were off! I had some excellent people on my detail, including two NYPD detectives, an ATF guy, a U.S. Marshal’s Service guy, two guys from the Miami Field Office, and our Shift Leader, a guy out of the Chicago Field Office. The only kink in our plans was the Agent-In-Charge (AIC), this guy out of the New Orleans Resident Office.
At first I thought the AIC didn’t like me, and then I realized that he actually HATED me. By the middle of the week he was telling my detail that I am incompetent and he was telling me how to put one foot in front of the other. Every time I did something, he had something critical to say. And it wasn’t in that nice, constructive criticism kind of way. It was more of “I’m right, you’re wrong, so just accept it” kind of way. By Wednesday I was ready to punch the guy every time I saw him. So we became like Clark Kent and Superman – never in the same room at the same time. If he was coming, I was going – and vice versa.
Unfortunately, the rest of my detail had to deal with him instead. He was incredibly disrespectful to my entire team and I was impressed with the professionalism my type-A personality guys were able to put forth when dealing with him.
Lucky for us, nobody outside our detail ever knew of our problems within. My contacts at the Republic of Korea Mission/Consulate were extremely pleased with our level of protection and often bought our detail lunch or dinner when we were out. Once, the manager of the restaurant even paid for our meal!
In the end, our detail was one of the smoothest running details at UNGA. Many of us became friends and we all were united against the AIC. At the wheels up party (it’s called wheels up, because the protectee is no longer under our protection once “wheels up” for the airplane has been called), we even drank a toast to our AIC – to not having him there, that is!
For those of you in the NYC area, I highly suggest the wine bar/restaurant we went to that evening: Vin, at the corner of Northern Blvd and 163rd in Queens. The food is excellent and wine is superb! I’m not sure about the cost since our NYPD guy arranged the whole affair (the owner is a friend of his family) and the owner picked up our tab, but I am sure it is comparable to some of your moderately priced New York eateries.
After a while, we moved our party to downtown Manhattan and the Lit Lounge, where Vince and I were meeting up with friends for the evening. My detail guys came and they staid until the 6’6” ATF guy over-consumed and vomited on the floor. Which was alright with me because, as I’ve mentioned in other Blogs, there is only so much of my true personality that these cop boys can handle. And I was READY to PARTY! All our NYC crowd was there: Starr, Dara, Mark, Brandy, Michael, Katherine… let’s just say the party ended around noon on Sunday, when a fairly hungover Ryan was escorted home in a red Maxima chariot by her knight in shining armor, Vincent. Many thanks to all who were there…
During all this UNGA craziness, Vincent also decided to initiate me to this new thing called Friendster. If you haven’t tried it out yet, I think you should – especially now, while you still don’t have to pay for the service. It’s more addictive than crack and all you’re doing is trying to increase your number of friends. Looking at what I wrote, I wouldn’t be interested in the service either, but I think you should go ahead and at least check it out. You never know. When we were at the Lit Lounge last Saturday (the 27th), I added the bartender to my growing list of friends as I ordered another drink and he asked, “Are you on Friendster?” So I grabbed his email address and I am now connected to over 100,000 people! I think I will eventually grow tired of it, but for now you can find me there at least once every couple of days. (Go to www.friendster.com)
Well, now it’s back to that job thing. I was wondering if any of you guys knew people in any of the following fields: music, publishing, television, radio, movies – basically, a lot of the visual and audio arts. I think my next direction may be to try and find a job as an assistant of sorts (or work my way up to that). And if any of you know someone I should know, then I would love it if you could act as a conduit and pass my resume on up the line. Or, if you have any suggestions for jobs, I’m all ears (and no Andrew, I do NOT want to be a trash collector). Just let me know.
Other things I’ve done lately:
1. I went to a taping of the Late Night with Conan O’Brien show. I haven’t had a moment to watch the actual show yet, but it is highly probable that Vince and I were on t.v.
2. Vince and I went out to dinner and a broadway show on Friday: Tao and Nine. Tao is this Asian inspired restaurant that looks an awful lot like Buddhakhan in Philadelphia. The décor is fabulous, but the food is so-so – I will not be back for a return performance. And then Nine is this show with Antonio Banderas, Mary Stuart Masterson and Jane Krakowski (from Ally McBeal). I enjoyed it a lot – there were many great performances, and Antonio can really sing. Nine was a solid dramatic piece.
3. Last night (Saturday) Vince and I attended our friend Toni’s play in Greenwich, CT. She plays Julia in Agatha Christie’s “A Murder Is Announced.” She was fabulous and I would have told her so immediately had she not run off and disappeared so quickly! We finally caught her in the parking lot outside of her home, pizza and car keys in her hands. Then we invited ourselves in and spent some quality time with her, her hubby Mark, and Leo (their new kitty!). After all this time apart, it was nice to catch up.
4. I now suffer from a head cold. Pure misery.
Alright guys, I am winding down…The exhaustion that comes with being sick is catching up with me and I want to stop writing so I’ll just give you some teasers to look forward to in upcoming blogs:
• Philadelphia visit, October 11-13
• Poconos and hiking, October 17-19
• Da’ Momma and the Maize Maze in Massachusetts, October 25-27
• Punkin’ Chunkin’ (http://punkinchunkin.com), November 2
• New Orleans with Mom and Joe, November 12-15
• Eagles game, November 23
• Thanksgiving and mom visits NYC!, November 26-29
What fun!!!
Okay, I’m leaving you now. I’ll see you next time. Same bat time, same bat place, same bat channel…
Saturday, September 13, 2003
Many of you have either a) expressed a desire to know why I am quitting my job in the near future, or b) told me that I shouldn’t quit after I worked so hard to get where I am. So here I am to explain to all the inquiring masses why it is that I no longer want to be called a special agent extraordinaire.
Let’s start with the basics. Do you understand what I do on a daily basis? If I am not assigned to a protective detail or away on a TDY (temporary duty), then I work on criminal investigations. Criminal investigations involve conducting records checks in various police databases and then going out “in the field” to conduct interviews with various people involved in the case. Most of the people I investigate are NOT terrorists, drug dealers, child smugglers, gun smugglers or serial killers. Rather, they are poor immigrants who can barely rub two pennies together and live in terrible neighborhoods.
In any case, I harass them, and then if I am “lucky” the AUSA (Assistant U.S. Attorney – at the state level, these same lawyers are called District Attorneys) decides to prosecute the case. Then I get the joy of picking up the subject of my investigation, slapping some handcuffs on them, and then sitting with them in lockup or court for an entire day, usually until some time after when I would like to be asleep.
After that, I get to write up a PILE of paperwork, which would keep the average person locked up in their office for about a week. As I am not an average person, I am locked up in my office for about two weeks.
That being said, I am not the kind of person who wants to carry a gun. I hate my gun. I don’t want to shoot it. I don’t want to carry it. And the belt! Do you understand that to keep the holster rigid so that you can pull out your gun effectively when you need it, the belt must be incredibly tight!?? Well, I confess that it hurts. A lot. For some reason, my left kidney gets really sore more often than not. And for a girl with only one left, that worries me.
Of course, there is always the shoulder holster. But in order to carry that on the job, you need to qualify with it. I am not even sure that the shoulder holster is the best way to carry a gun. Now, we all know how clutzy I am, so it really is sheer luck that I don’t shoot myself every morning I put my gun on! Nevermind actually holstering it under my arm, facing my back!!!! That’s practically asking for it…
In any case, so there’s the gun. And then there’s all the equipment. There is probably about twenty pounds of equipment strapped to my waist on any given day. To be honest, I can’t even put everything I am supposed to carry on my body because my waist is too small, but I digress…All that added weight certainly takes its toll on your lower back. With the amount of back problems that run in my family, I am not really looking to increase my odds of going down in a hail of agony because some disc in my back has ruptured.
Then there’s that whole “cop” issue. I don’t enjoy interviewing people for a living. Not this way, anyway. The whole process seems very dishonest. What we do, mind you, is all legal – that being said, I really feel like I am cheating these people out of some basic human dignity by twisting my words to “my” own advantage. In my heart I don’t even want to arrest these people. I can’t fault them for wanting to travel home to see their families. Granted, they are breaking a federal law when they apply under someone else’s identity, or whatever, and if you don’t punish people in some way, they are liable to commit the offense again…but I just have no desire to scream at someone, handcuff them, or sit with them in court for fourteen hours. It’s just not my bag, baby…
Then there is the PRS (protective details). Do you understand what we do when we protect someone? Most of my experience has been standing outside of hotel rooms for hours at a time, staring at a doorknob and wishing that housekeeping would show up, just so you have some diversion. Honestly, it’s not that exciting. Yes, I do have a gun on me, I have used night-vision goggles, I do know how to shoot a submachine gun (along with an uzi, M-4, shotgun, etc.), I do see Colin Powell on occasion along with other varying degrees of famous people…but the hours of my day are spent either on my ass, or standing uncomfortably, both without ever challenging my brain.
The only difficulties in my job are 1) overcoming the agency-wide discrimination against and extreme dislike of female agents, 2) figuring out where to go to get a question answered, 3) working weekends and missing out on time spent with family and friends, including weddings, graduations, holidays, and birthdays, and 4) not giving myself a nine-millimeter headache some days.
What really drew me to this job was the promise of overseas travel, and that, my friends, is an incredible benefit. I love that we go everywhere, do everything, and get to stay in five-star hotels. Honestly. And the only thing that keeps me going is the promise of this aforementioned travel. But then I get to thinking about it, and I remember that I will still be doing the same shit, only in a new and exciting location. I still don’t get time off, and I’m still expected to be some glorified security expert/cop. Not exactly beneficial when I start thinking of it that way…
What you guys don’t see about my job is how my personality changes when I go into work. I can’t be myself, and women have so much more to prove in order to be taken seriously. No one wants to invite you out after work, and I can’t really accept the invitation if I was since there is this whole crazy concept of the “corridor reputation.” The only information that gets passed around the office is rumors and lies. That sounds pessimistic, but it’s true. If you want to know where to get your access to your computer reestablished after you’ve been away for too long, no one has the answer, but if you want to know who sucks at life and is sleeping around on their wife, everyone has a ready response. It’s simply amazing. And that’s the kind of thing that, as a woman, I have to avoid. I cannot put myself in a situation that could compromise my reputation. Hence, my not being able to fraternize (c’mon guys, you all know how I get when they let me out in public).
So it’s a pretty lonely, depressing, and anesthetizing experience. I feel like I have to silence my mind and quiet my personality in order to survive each day. I can barely get out of bed and I am only thinking of the time I finally get to be home at the end. And then I get home and I am mean to Vince because I have no one else to take it out on. My Vincent is really a saint for putting up with me all this time, during this failed experiment. I always wanted to be that woman who defies all odds and excels beyond everyone’s expectations, but in this job I can’t breathe. It is pretty much a given that if I could stand working there day to day, I would be promoted and move up to some supervisory position within the next four to five years, but my heart isn’t in it. I need to go. I miss having fun in my life. I miss loving my Vincent as kindly as he loves me. And I miss seeing my friends and family on weekends without feeling guilty for taking off the time (yes, in my office, if you don’t want to be called for duty, you have to “block” the weekend).
Some people have told me that I need to pay my dues and I am totally for that – just not as a federal agent. I would much rather be happy.
So, my dearest friends and da’ momma, I really appreciate your kind words, your concern, your advice, and your desire to talk to me about my decision, but there really isn’t much more to add to my diatribe. I do not like my life the way it is, so I choose to change it. What’s funny is that tonight I just read my friend Ben’s final article in the Graduation issue of the Daily Pennsylvanian, our college’s newspaper, and in it he talks about getting into life over your head and putting yourself into situations that might be a little scary. Well, that resonated with me because I feel like I am doing just that. All my life I’ve lived with a plan. And now I don’t have one. It’s the scariest thing that I’m about to do, but it’s exhilarating at the same time – kind of like jumping out a perfectly good airplane with only a parachute and a belief in your own immortality to get you safely to the ground. With Vince, my friends, and my family as my parachute, and a healthy belief that I will live forever (or at least through this), I will soon be stepping out into the frightening world of unemployment. Let’s hope for a soft landing…
Let’s start with the basics. Do you understand what I do on a daily basis? If I am not assigned to a protective detail or away on a TDY (temporary duty), then I work on criminal investigations. Criminal investigations involve conducting records checks in various police databases and then going out “in the field” to conduct interviews with various people involved in the case. Most of the people I investigate are NOT terrorists, drug dealers, child smugglers, gun smugglers or serial killers. Rather, they are poor immigrants who can barely rub two pennies together and live in terrible neighborhoods.
In any case, I harass them, and then if I am “lucky” the AUSA (Assistant U.S. Attorney – at the state level, these same lawyers are called District Attorneys) decides to prosecute the case. Then I get the joy of picking up the subject of my investigation, slapping some handcuffs on them, and then sitting with them in lockup or court for an entire day, usually until some time after when I would like to be asleep.
After that, I get to write up a PILE of paperwork, which would keep the average person locked up in their office for about a week. As I am not an average person, I am locked up in my office for about two weeks.
That being said, I am not the kind of person who wants to carry a gun. I hate my gun. I don’t want to shoot it. I don’t want to carry it. And the belt! Do you understand that to keep the holster rigid so that you can pull out your gun effectively when you need it, the belt must be incredibly tight!?? Well, I confess that it hurts. A lot. For some reason, my left kidney gets really sore more often than not. And for a girl with only one left, that worries me.
Of course, there is always the shoulder holster. But in order to carry that on the job, you need to qualify with it. I am not even sure that the shoulder holster is the best way to carry a gun. Now, we all know how clutzy I am, so it really is sheer luck that I don’t shoot myself every morning I put my gun on! Nevermind actually holstering it under my arm, facing my back!!!! That’s practically asking for it…
In any case, so there’s the gun. And then there’s all the equipment. There is probably about twenty pounds of equipment strapped to my waist on any given day. To be honest, I can’t even put everything I am supposed to carry on my body because my waist is too small, but I digress…All that added weight certainly takes its toll on your lower back. With the amount of back problems that run in my family, I am not really looking to increase my odds of going down in a hail of agony because some disc in my back has ruptured.
Then there’s that whole “cop” issue. I don’t enjoy interviewing people for a living. Not this way, anyway. The whole process seems very dishonest. What we do, mind you, is all legal – that being said, I really feel like I am cheating these people out of some basic human dignity by twisting my words to “my” own advantage. In my heart I don’t even want to arrest these people. I can’t fault them for wanting to travel home to see their families. Granted, they are breaking a federal law when they apply under someone else’s identity, or whatever, and if you don’t punish people in some way, they are liable to commit the offense again…but I just have no desire to scream at someone, handcuff them, or sit with them in court for fourteen hours. It’s just not my bag, baby…
Then there is the PRS (protective details). Do you understand what we do when we protect someone? Most of my experience has been standing outside of hotel rooms for hours at a time, staring at a doorknob and wishing that housekeeping would show up, just so you have some diversion. Honestly, it’s not that exciting. Yes, I do have a gun on me, I have used night-vision goggles, I do know how to shoot a submachine gun (along with an uzi, M-4, shotgun, etc.), I do see Colin Powell on occasion along with other varying degrees of famous people…but the hours of my day are spent either on my ass, or standing uncomfortably, both without ever challenging my brain.
The only difficulties in my job are 1) overcoming the agency-wide discrimination against and extreme dislike of female agents, 2) figuring out where to go to get a question answered, 3) working weekends and missing out on time spent with family and friends, including weddings, graduations, holidays, and birthdays, and 4) not giving myself a nine-millimeter headache some days.
What really drew me to this job was the promise of overseas travel, and that, my friends, is an incredible benefit. I love that we go everywhere, do everything, and get to stay in five-star hotels. Honestly. And the only thing that keeps me going is the promise of this aforementioned travel. But then I get to thinking about it, and I remember that I will still be doing the same shit, only in a new and exciting location. I still don’t get time off, and I’m still expected to be some glorified security expert/cop. Not exactly beneficial when I start thinking of it that way…
What you guys don’t see about my job is how my personality changes when I go into work. I can’t be myself, and women have so much more to prove in order to be taken seriously. No one wants to invite you out after work, and I can’t really accept the invitation if I was since there is this whole crazy concept of the “corridor reputation.” The only information that gets passed around the office is rumors and lies. That sounds pessimistic, but it’s true. If you want to know where to get your access to your computer reestablished after you’ve been away for too long, no one has the answer, but if you want to know who sucks at life and is sleeping around on their wife, everyone has a ready response. It’s simply amazing. And that’s the kind of thing that, as a woman, I have to avoid. I cannot put myself in a situation that could compromise my reputation. Hence, my not being able to fraternize (c’mon guys, you all know how I get when they let me out in public).
So it’s a pretty lonely, depressing, and anesthetizing experience. I feel like I have to silence my mind and quiet my personality in order to survive each day. I can barely get out of bed and I am only thinking of the time I finally get to be home at the end. And then I get home and I am mean to Vince because I have no one else to take it out on. My Vincent is really a saint for putting up with me all this time, during this failed experiment. I always wanted to be that woman who defies all odds and excels beyond everyone’s expectations, but in this job I can’t breathe. It is pretty much a given that if I could stand working there day to day, I would be promoted and move up to some supervisory position within the next four to five years, but my heart isn’t in it. I need to go. I miss having fun in my life. I miss loving my Vincent as kindly as he loves me. And I miss seeing my friends and family on weekends without feeling guilty for taking off the time (yes, in my office, if you don’t want to be called for duty, you have to “block” the weekend).
Some people have told me that I need to pay my dues and I am totally for that – just not as a federal agent. I would much rather be happy.
So, my dearest friends and da’ momma, I really appreciate your kind words, your concern, your advice, and your desire to talk to me about my decision, but there really isn’t much more to add to my diatribe. I do not like my life the way it is, so I choose to change it. What’s funny is that tonight I just read my friend Ben’s final article in the Graduation issue of the Daily Pennsylvanian, our college’s newspaper, and in it he talks about getting into life over your head and putting yourself into situations that might be a little scary. Well, that resonated with me because I feel like I am doing just that. All my life I’ve lived with a plan. And now I don’t have one. It’s the scariest thing that I’m about to do, but it’s exhilarating at the same time – kind of like jumping out a perfectly good airplane with only a parachute and a belief in your own immortality to get you safely to the ground. With Vince, my friends, and my family as my parachute, and a healthy belief that I will live forever (or at least through this), I will soon be stepping out into the frightening world of unemployment. Let’s hope for a soft landing…
Sunday, September 07, 2003
Home, where my thought's escaping
Home, where my music's playing
Home, where my love lies waiting
Silently for me…
And so I am here again in lovely New York City, tired as you would imagine after nearly 40 straight days of work with only one day of rest (i.e. no weekends off). But today finds me nearly three days out of work, now having spent a weekend at the Shore with some of my closest friends for a little thing Vince and I like to call our “Mourning the Loss of Summer” Party. I’m sorry you missed it…unless of course you were there. Which, if that’s the case, you’ve probably been kissed by me more than any sensible person would want, and then some. How good it is to be home!!!!
In any case, my thoughts from my last blog have not changed in the slightest. I am on the verge of quitting my fabulous job in the hopes of finding something more fulfilling. As I was discussing with my new good friend Michael this past weekend, I am looking forward to a job that will make me MORE me. He has a lot of good things to say, that Michael does, and one of them had much to do with the act of creation that so many people do each day, making something out of nothing for the rest of us to enjoy. Well, I want to join the ranks and do something that matters, raise something up out of the dust and air, and make it beautiful – starting perhaps with my inner self (which has been struggling with this new career and trying to avoid the crush of normality and closemindedness that seeks to overwhelm my better senses).
So let me now give a shout out to my party attendees, whether they want to hear me or not: Kathryn: stop apologizing, or make up for it by becoming our new house girl!; Michael: I know I made a good friend when I met you, and thank you for the conversation – it was the first spark of intelligence I’ve seen in more than a month of work!; Starr: as always, you are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey….; Corinne: you’ve made my Vincent the happiest man on the face of the planet, and if you can believe it, I’m even happier than he is knowing that you were able to attend and we were able to get you drunk!; Jimmy: my gay boyfriend, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways…; Tyler: thank you a million times over for teaching Vincent that alcohol, sparklers and a box of firecrackers should never mix!; and Saleah: great shots of your butt cleavage to be coming soon to an e-mail near you! The rest of the party attendees just haven’t handed me their email addresses so I’m afraid they will not be mentioned in my blog, unless they send me their first born and a favorite limb… Actually, after all my professions of not wanting children, why again am I asking for your first born? Just a simple limb and an email address will do.
And back to whatever point it is that I am always trying to make on this thing (i.e. my blog). Did I tell you that Vincent started a blog in secret? Well, he did and you may now find him on http://neodem.blogspot.com. Just you and he, real personal and up close…
Well, truth be told, I am still exhausted and now I have to go clean the little “surprise” Chi-Chi left for me on our bedcovers. Then I can finally lay me down for that long-deserved, much-needed nap I’ve been meaning to get. I need to be well-rested for my requalification test tomorrow (i.e. with my handgun – what fun!).
Wish me sweet dreams and maybe I’ll consider putting one of you lucky readers in them! Miss you, love you, running away now, bye…
Home, where my music's playing
Home, where my love lies waiting
Silently for me…
And so I am here again in lovely New York City, tired as you would imagine after nearly 40 straight days of work with only one day of rest (i.e. no weekends off). But today finds me nearly three days out of work, now having spent a weekend at the Shore with some of my closest friends for a little thing Vince and I like to call our “Mourning the Loss of Summer” Party. I’m sorry you missed it…unless of course you were there. Which, if that’s the case, you’ve probably been kissed by me more than any sensible person would want, and then some. How good it is to be home!!!!
In any case, my thoughts from my last blog have not changed in the slightest. I am on the verge of quitting my fabulous job in the hopes of finding something more fulfilling. As I was discussing with my new good friend Michael this past weekend, I am looking forward to a job that will make me MORE me. He has a lot of good things to say, that Michael does, and one of them had much to do with the act of creation that so many people do each day, making something out of nothing for the rest of us to enjoy. Well, I want to join the ranks and do something that matters, raise something up out of the dust and air, and make it beautiful – starting perhaps with my inner self (which has been struggling with this new career and trying to avoid the crush of normality and closemindedness that seeks to overwhelm my better senses).
So let me now give a shout out to my party attendees, whether they want to hear me or not: Kathryn: stop apologizing, or make up for it by becoming our new house girl!
And back to whatever point it is that I am always trying to make on this thing (i.e. my blog). Did I tell you that Vincent started a blog in secret? Well, he did and you may now find him on http://neodem.blogspot.com. Just you and he, real personal and up close…
Well, truth be told, I am still exhausted and now I have to go clean the little “surprise” Chi-Chi left for me on our bedcovers. Then I can finally lay me down for that long-deserved, much-needed nap I’ve been meaning to get. I need to be well-rested for my requalification test tomorrow (i.e. with my handgun – what fun!).
Wish me sweet dreams and maybe I’ll consider putting one of you lucky readers in them! Miss you, love you, running away now, bye…
[first written on: 08/22/03 07:00:00 PM | Ryan Janda]
I’ve let time slip by yet again, but this time I have a valid excuse. I haven’t been at home in New York since the end of July. In fact, I write this with still more than a week to go in the month of August, but you won’t even see it on my Blog until September, I would think.
In any case, where in the world is Ryan? Well, at the moment of writing, I am in Wainscott, New York, which is a small section of the Hamptons. I am listening to Beth Orton and trying to rid myself of this damn pesky headache that attacked me as soon as I got out of work this afternoon.
Needless to say, I am on a temporary duty with the Secretary’s Detail. As in Colin Powell. Nothing new and exciting here, just a simple vacation. For him, anyway.
There have been a few star spottings along the way, of course. We saw Alec Baldwin pulled over by the local police, and then again on other random times. Then we saw Tommy Lee, and one of the guys saw the actress Julie something-or-other from Ed and nearly lost control of his bowels. At the club next door to our hotel last Saturday night, the guys saw Carson Daly and P. Ditty (is that really a name? I even feel stupid putting it to paper…). Oh yeah, and I’ve seen Colin Powell.
For the most part, the work here has been relatively boring. I think, however, it is propelling me toward a new conclusion: it’s about time for me to quit. The more I work, the more I realize that I don’t like this job for several reasons. The only real perk for me is the overseas travel, and all the benefits associated with that (i.e. the free plane tickets, the free housing, the percentage pay increase, etc.). Everything else about the job just isn’t me. The time away from family, friends, and my Vincent; the criminal work; the protective details where I just stare at doorknobs; even carrying a gun – these are the things that I don’t like about my job. On top of that, I have to constantly deal with the sexism inherent in law enforcement and it just brings me down to a whole new level. There is nothing I say that anyone gives credence to, and my intelligence is being ignored. It’s shocking to me that this kind of work environment still exists.
On top of that, most of the people I work with (especially here on the Secretary’s Detail) are incredibly lazy. It is terrible to see a complete dolt be praised or promoted ahead of someone who is truly deserving. Some of these agents in supervisory positions really need to get their heads out of their collective tushies and take a look around. This agency is flagging, and it’s poorly run. Good riddance, I say.
Of course, I know that I will find more of the same in other jobs I may run to, but it all comes back to my original point which is: this job isn’t me. My parents always told me that it is better to find a job that makes you happy than to find a job that pays well. So I think it’s time for me to begin searching – again. I learned quite a bit from my mistakes and small successes over the past year in this endeavor and I know I can lend my experience to something greater. Maybe try number two will be the pot of gold at the end of my rainbow.
Here’s to returning to New York and my Vincent in September…
I’ve let time slip by yet again, but this time I have a valid excuse. I haven’t been at home in New York since the end of July. In fact, I write this with still more than a week to go in the month of August, but you won’t even see it on my Blog until September, I would think.
In any case, where in the world is Ryan? Well, at the moment of writing, I am in Wainscott, New York, which is a small section of the Hamptons. I am listening to Beth Orton and trying to rid myself of this damn pesky headache that attacked me as soon as I got out of work this afternoon.
Needless to say, I am on a temporary duty with the Secretary’s Detail. As in Colin Powell. Nothing new and exciting here, just a simple vacation. For him, anyway.
There have been a few star spottings along the way, of course. We saw Alec Baldwin pulled over by the local police, and then again on other random times. Then we saw Tommy Lee, and one of the guys saw the actress Julie something-or-other from Ed and nearly lost control of his bowels. At the club next door to our hotel last Saturday night, the guys saw Carson Daly and P. Ditty (is that really a name? I even feel stupid putting it to paper…). Oh yeah, and I’ve seen Colin Powell.
For the most part, the work here has been relatively boring. I think, however, it is propelling me toward a new conclusion: it’s about time for me to quit. The more I work, the more I realize that I don’t like this job for several reasons. The only real perk for me is the overseas travel, and all the benefits associated with that (i.e. the free plane tickets, the free housing, the percentage pay increase, etc.). Everything else about the job just isn’t me. The time away from family, friends, and my Vincent; the criminal work; the protective details where I just stare at doorknobs; even carrying a gun – these are the things that I don’t like about my job. On top of that, I have to constantly deal with the sexism inherent in law enforcement and it just brings me down to a whole new level. There is nothing I say that anyone gives credence to, and my intelligence is being ignored. It’s shocking to me that this kind of work environment still exists.
On top of that, most of the people I work with (especially here on the Secretary’s Detail) are incredibly lazy. It is terrible to see a complete dolt be praised or promoted ahead of someone who is truly deserving. Some of these agents in supervisory positions really need to get their heads out of their collective tushies and take a look around. This agency is flagging, and it’s poorly run. Good riddance, I say.
Of course, I know that I will find more of the same in other jobs I may run to, but it all comes back to my original point which is: this job isn’t me. My parents always told me that it is better to find a job that makes you happy than to find a job that pays well. So I think it’s time for me to begin searching – again. I learned quite a bit from my mistakes and small successes over the past year in this endeavor and I know I can lend my experience to something greater. Maybe try number two will be the pot of gold at the end of my rainbow.
Here’s to returning to New York and my Vincent in September…
Wednesday, July 30, 2003
Where oh where have I gone? Where oh where can I be…?
And the million dollar answer is: Washington D.C. I am back on the trail again, off to our nation’s capital to do crime-fighting at its finest: guarding the ever-holy door knob. Yes, I know, you are all slobbering in your envy, but really, you cannot come. Apparently, our fearless leader of DoS is not exactly the kind of man who wants you to stand outside his bedroom door.
But ME on the other hand, why, I am more than welcome! So it’s off to a month of the Secretary’s Detail, where I get to spend the sunlit hours sleeping and the long nights guarding our national treasures: every sewer plate within a five-mile radius of Colin Powell.
As you DCers already know, I will be in your area beginning tomorrow and spanning through the 14th (at least as the current schedule stands). Call me if you want to see my bright and shining face.
In other news, I was recently handed a lovely spot on the Israeli Foreign Minister’s detail (Silvan Shalom) – right in time for my mother’s visit to NYC. Just like when Michelle visited…. In any case, I must say that if I never see the inside of the NYC Toys R Us with a detail again, it will be too soon. I was dodging and weaving through aisles of toys, running around shelving, dodging the Israeli Shin Bet (who, despite requesting our assistance, also insist on sending out a contingent of no less than 15), and toppling small children. It was a full-contact sport, and all so I could stand to the left or right of Shalom when he and his personal shopper made any move throughout the store. Because, as you know, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to take a bullet for someone else (and yes, said with all due sarcasm). At least I was able to get a workout, having not been able to make it to the gym for several days.
Did I mention that Shalom actually got spotted? Yes, I am serious. A group of Israeli kids just so happened to be in Toys R Us at the time and completely bum rushed the guy. The Shin Bet people stood aside to let them pass and then there was me, the total a$$hole standing in their way saying, “No.” They began speaking in Hebrew to me, so apparently my completely blank stare wasn’t getting through to them. I said, “I don’t speak Hebrew.” Oh, those poor children! They seemed so confused. In any case, they finally had their way with the foreign minister and snapped several dozen photographs with him. I felt like I was protecting Madonna or something.
Well, despite all the shenanigans, throughout the detail I though of our lovely Yael. Yes, yes. Some of the Shin Bet even had names like Michal… on an unrelated note, one guy was named Israel, and I thought he was joking at first. How was I to know that it is a very popular name in Israel? Go figure.
There was another woman named Enat (phonetically spelled, it is pronounced something like “A Gnat”) who actually had the Star of David tattooed in her front teeth. How do you approach someone like that? “Hey, I’m a Catholic, what are you?” She smiles. “Oh….oh, I see…”
Whatever. Very hardcore. But nice. The funniest thing I saw with Enat was one of the housekeepers at the hotel trying to convince her to turn to the New Testament and Christianity. I don’t think the housekeeper was winning any points that day.
Speaking of the hotel, however, the following famous people were spotted within a span of 2 days:
Mark Paul Gossler (remember Zack Morris? He was on site to shoot a scene for NYPD Blue)
Larry David (Seinfeld anyone? Curb Your Enthusiasm perhaps?)
Peter Boyle (most recently the father on Everyone Loves Raymond)
Barbara Walters (needs no introduction…but she talks just like my grandmother!)
Lauren Bush (supermodel extraordinaire)
Luis Guzman (Carlito’s Way, Punch Drunk Love, Traffic, Magnolia…)
Yeah, so now I can say that I held the elevator for Barbara Walters…whoopee!
Other than that, my mom was here, like I mentioned earlier. We wined, we dined, we walked through the park… Glorious good times, my friends. Twas nice to see da’ momma and San…
Now, like I said, I am off to DC and wherever for the month of August. Then it’s the UN General Assembly here in New York for the month of September. So it’s looking like if you email me, I won’t be getting back to you until October. You’re looking at one very busy girl here!
I will have you know that I will have both my cell phones on me while I travel, and therefore will be able to communicate somewhat. So call. Call. CALL!
And the million dollar answer is: Washington D.C. I am back on the trail again, off to our nation’s capital to do crime-fighting at its finest: guarding the ever-holy door knob. Yes, I know, you are all slobbering in your envy, but really, you cannot come. Apparently, our fearless leader of DoS is not exactly the kind of man who wants you to stand outside his bedroom door.
But ME on the other hand, why, I am more than welcome! So it’s off to a month of the Secretary’s Detail, where I get to spend the sunlit hours sleeping and the long nights guarding our national treasures: every sewer plate within a five-mile radius of Colin Powell.
As you DCers already know, I will be in your area beginning tomorrow and spanning through the 14th (at least as the current schedule stands). Call me if you want to see my bright and shining face.
In other news, I was recently handed a lovely spot on the Israeli Foreign Minister’s detail (Silvan Shalom) – right in time for my mother’s visit to NYC. Just like when Michelle visited…. In any case, I must say that if I never see the inside of the NYC Toys R Us with a detail again, it will be too soon. I was dodging and weaving through aisles of toys, running around shelving, dodging the Israeli Shin Bet (who, despite requesting our assistance, also insist on sending out a contingent of no less than 15), and toppling small children. It was a full-contact sport, and all so I could stand to the left or right of Shalom when he and his personal shopper made any move throughout the store. Because, as you know, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to take a bullet for someone else (and yes, said with all due sarcasm). At least I was able to get a workout, having not been able to make it to the gym for several days.
Did I mention that Shalom actually got spotted? Yes, I am serious. A group of Israeli kids just so happened to be in Toys R Us at the time and completely bum rushed the guy. The Shin Bet people stood aside to let them pass and then there was me, the total a$$hole standing in their way saying, “No.” They began speaking in Hebrew to me, so apparently my completely blank stare wasn’t getting through to them. I said, “I don’t speak Hebrew.” Oh, those poor children! They seemed so confused. In any case, they finally had their way with the foreign minister and snapped several dozen photographs with him. I felt like I was protecting Madonna or something.
Well, despite all the shenanigans, throughout the detail I though of our lovely Yael. Yes, yes. Some of the Shin Bet even had names like Michal… on an unrelated note, one guy was named Israel, and I thought he was joking at first. How was I to know that it is a very popular name in Israel? Go figure.
There was another woman named Enat (phonetically spelled, it is pronounced something like “A Gnat”) who actually had the Star of David tattooed in her front teeth. How do you approach someone like that? “Hey, I’m a Catholic, what are you?” She smiles. “Oh….oh, I see…”
Whatever. Very hardcore. But nice. The funniest thing I saw with Enat was one of the housekeepers at the hotel trying to convince her to turn to the New Testament and Christianity. I don’t think the housekeeper was winning any points that day.
Speaking of the hotel, however, the following famous people were spotted within a span of 2 days:
Mark Paul Gossler (remember Zack Morris? He was on site to shoot a scene for NYPD Blue)
Larry David (Seinfeld anyone? Curb Your Enthusiasm perhaps?)
Peter Boyle (most recently the father on Everyone Loves Raymond)
Barbara Walters (needs no introduction…but she talks just like my grandmother!)
Lauren Bush (supermodel extraordinaire)
Luis Guzman (Carlito’s Way, Punch Drunk Love, Traffic, Magnolia…)
Yeah, so now I can say that I held the elevator for Barbara Walters…whoopee!
Other than that, my mom was here, like I mentioned earlier. We wined, we dined, we walked through the park… Glorious good times, my friends. Twas nice to see da’ momma and San…
Now, like I said, I am off to DC and wherever for the month of August. Then it’s the UN General Assembly here in New York for the month of September. So it’s looking like if you email me, I won’t be getting back to you until October. You’re looking at one very busy girl here!
I will have you know that I will have both my cell phones on me while I travel, and therefore will be able to communicate somewhat. So call. Call. CALL!
Saturday, July 12, 2003
Begun on Wednesday, 10 July 2003 and finished on Saturday, 12 July…
Well, it’s a lovely Wednesday morning in which I am writing – from my lovely Ford Contour, somewhere in downtown Manhattan. Apparently there was some confusion about who was to do what today and I am waiting for my squad leader, who left to bring a coworker to the airport, to come back to his apartment. I am feeling very much like a stalker. Good times.
So. I’ve managed to miss yet another month in which I should have written more and wasted less time. Unfortunately, I don’t even have the excuse that I was out of the country. I spent most of my time at work, investigating my criminal caseload. There’s nothing quite like invading the homes of those less fortunate and more cockroach-ridden than you, and telling them that they’ve committed a federal crime and they better fess up so you can throw them in jail. I mean really, the fun times never end.
This guy, Doug, with whom I’ve been working a lot lately, even saved me from getting a cockroach in my hair on a recent case. I was leaning against the wall, the cockroach was busy walking down the wall, and inches before the two of us meeting, Doug sends out the warning. I am eternally grateful. In fact, Doug even went one step further and got on his hands and knees in the kitchen to go through the trash in search of evidence for my case. All in a days work, baby, yeah.
In the life o’ Ryan outside of work, Vince and I have been keeping busy. On June 14, Vince formally graduated from Drexel University with a Masters Degree in Software Engineering. Of course, we didn’t attend the ceremony, but we reminisced about it on June 15th when we attended his cousin Bruno’s graduation party – he just finished up at the naval academy. Vince’s favorite part? The jealousy that comes from wishing you too could be paid for flying planes for a living. My favorite part? The MUMMERS!!!! They came, umbrellas and all, from our old stomping ground of South Philadelphia. For those of you who wonder – what the hell is a Mummer?! – I have the following for you: http://mummers.com/. They have links for all the Mummers clubs.
Well, we spent that Sunday afternoon with Vince’s Mom, Joe, Grandmom, Grandpop, and we even saw his sister Nicole and her husband Christian for a few seconds (before they quickly departed to “go take care of their new puppy”).
Oh shoot, I just figured out that I got the dates all wrong…not that you care, but Vince did officially graduate on June 14, but Bruno’s graduation was the Sunday before, on the 8th. Now don’t you all feel better knowing the right dates – but even more so that Ryan is losing her mind at such an early age?
The day before Bruno’s party, we were scheduled to attend Field Day Fest here in NY – an all day music festival held at Giants Stadium. The headliner was Radiohead, but also scheduled were Beth Orton, Beastie Boys, Elliott Smith, Blur, Underworld, Liz Phair and Beck. Originally it was supposed to be a two-day camping event in a huge field in Calverton, NY, but there were problems with permits at the last minute and they changed the venue to Giants Stadium and reduced to festival to one day.
To make matters worse, god cried all over us all day. In other words, it poured. So Vincent and I decided to attend the show later in the day, in an effort to stay out of the weather but still see the bands we wanted to see. I saw about ten minutes of Elliott Smith, who really did not impress me at the time, and then we went to our seats in the stadium to wait for Beck to come on.
Oh yes, I waited and I waited. Vince went out to buy me a hot dog. And then I waited again. After about a half hour of thinking the stage crew was setting up for Beck, the girl next to me says, “You know Beck isn’t playing right? He went to the hospital.” And it was true. Beck was accidentally hit by a stage crew member who was carrying something while watching Blur play and suffered from some minor rib damage – although nothing was broken. Eventually the Beastie Boys came on – now, I’ve seen the Beastie Boys play before and I know they are absolutely brilliant when it comes to producing their records. They make sounds and harmonies nobody else would even consider that end up sounding fabulous. All that aside, they suck. More than Hoover, they suck. They cannot sing. They do not dance. I am not entertained.
After about twenty minutes of deliberating, Vince and I went home, missing our chance to see Radiohead. We just could not wait the two hours until they came on stage.
So now I am actually ready to talk about Vince’s graduation weekend. We went to the Shore and staid at his father’s house in Margate. We rode bikes and shopped for the apartment on the Bay in Ventor – Vince’s father had some work done on the apartment and threw everything out so we had to buy a new couch, table, chairs, mattress and spring box, and bed frame. Vince and I even had the pleasure of digging through all the “wonderful” piles of god-knows-what that were still in the apartment. We were supposed to pick out things to throw away, but it turned into a case of us picking out things to keep. There was almost nothing we needed. Sometimes I laugh at how similar Vincent and his father are: they both like to collect things and then, even though they don’t even remember they have it, they don’t want to throw anything away. Personally, I think that your belongings mean more to you the fewer you have. It’s like that law in economics of diminishing returns. The more you have of something, the less you appreciate it. Know what I mean, jellybean?
Now I say all this because when we got back to the apartment a few weeks later, the Senator hadn’t allowed Ruth to throw away half as much as we wanted to. I was amused.
So that was my weekend.
The following weekend, or the last weekend in June, Vince and I spent our first weekend on the town. Saturday found us at Café Gitame for brunch, a quaint little French shop down in the West Village. We walked around window shopping for a short while before attending our first Broadway show: Baz Luhrman’s La Boheme, adapted from the opera and set in the 1950s. Vince adored it, as he adores the opera of the same title, but I loathed it. It was incredibly difficult for me to stay in my seat and not walk out on it like Starr and I did when we went to the ballet. If it weren’t for the fact that Vincent was so enthralled, I would have run, not walked, to the nearest exit (which just so happened to be directly to my left – not that I was looking for one, mind you).
So then we window-shopped some more and ended up meeting my friend Andrew for dinner. Down from Massachusetts for the weekend, Andrew was visiting with his old high school buddies who now live in NYC. We even brought him back to my apartment for a drink before he returned to his gallivanting with the boys. Andrew says, and I quote, “You have a very nice apartment, I must say. One of the best that I've seen out of all my friends, and certainly the one with the most posters/photos of breasts on the wall.” Now if that isn’t an advertisement that will pull all the customers in, I don’t know what is!
That Sunday we devoted to museums. Lucky for us, we made it to only one. The Museum of Sex. It certainly was an adventure just getting there. Apparently, the Museum of Sex is on the Gay Pride parade route. Vince and I had to cut off some transvestites and boys in drag to run across the street without being run down by a float! It was a scream! We only took a few photos, but there we were: in the midst of gay boy heaven.
The museum was incredibly interesting. And that means a lot coming from someone who really hates museums. I can go through something like the Met, or the Louvre for that matter, in about 30 minutes. I am too bored to do anything but yawn and run through the exhibits. But there, at MoSex, I read every last article on the wall and watched every last porn (and yes, there was porn – all the classics, I’ll have you know!). It was very educational. (Did I mention that was the first time I’d ever seen porn in public? I just can’t get over it!!!)
We must have finished with MoSex sometime around 6PM, and we spent another half hour or so with the tarot card reader sitting in the lobby, right by the packets of “Dicklets” and the Betty Paige cut-out dolls. Much like La Boheme, Vince was enthralled and I was skeptical. Every time the tarot lady tried to figure me out, I gave her a blank look. Vince, on the other hand, kept nodding and grinning. Her readings were quite good, if not somewhat general, but her numerology was WAY off. And she even calculated the wrong number for Vince, and then told us about it. It was like, blah blah blah for ten minutes and then, “Oh, that’s the wrong number, but you’re still… and the same still holds true.” Excuse me?
So Vince and I hit a boutique somewhere on Fifth Avenue, near to the Museum, and then it was off to an Irish Pub, across the street from the Empire State Building. And so we ended our weekend.
Finally, the 4th of July. Starr, Vince and I were off to the Shore – this time to the apartment in Ventnor. Lucky for us, they were just finishing up painting and we could move in. A quick stop to Bed, Bath and Beyond for the much needed bedding and we were in like Flynn. Starr and I spent the entirety of the 3rd cleaning the house. Remember how I said the Senator refused to throw everything out? Well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Of course, we are not mean, ill-tempered harlots, but rather the kind of girls who throw away the broken fish statue and keep the old photo albums. So we scrubbed and disinfected, washed and put away.
Then we celebrated with a little party of steamed clams and corn on the cob, on the deck by the bay. Beer, wine and everything fine…
Vince and Starr’s friend, Kara, joined us from Philly on the 4th. She brought her boyfriend Angel, and two friends: Rob and Eddie. They called themselves “New York Ricans” and added all the spice we needed to our little party of seven. Most of the day was spent on the beach, drinking fresh-squeezed orange juice and vodka (Starr’s tip of the day: As long as it is fresh-squeezed, you can’t taste the alcohol – and it’s true!). Then we joined the huge 4th of July BBQ, held by the Ruth and Mitchell, the Senator’s head staff members who have a condo in the same building as Vince’s apartment.
After tasting the food and swilling some beer, we seven packed up an Igloo of Rolling Rock and headed out on “Friends,” one of the Senator’s boats. We headed for the ocean to see the fireworks…and that, my friends, is that.
So the rest of the time at the Shore was more sun, bike riding every morning, more fresh-squeezed and vodka on the beach, and a ticket for Vincent for having a headlight out on his car (ha ha!).
And so, you can now consider yourselves basically caught up on my life and history. We are spending another weekend in the wonderful world of Inwood, where we intend to catch up, clean up, and ride our bikes. Good times, my friends, good times…
Well, it’s a lovely Wednesday morning in which I am writing – from my lovely Ford Contour, somewhere in downtown Manhattan. Apparently there was some confusion about who was to do what today and I am waiting for my squad leader, who left to bring a coworker to the airport, to come back to his apartment. I am feeling very much like a stalker. Good times.
So. I’ve managed to miss yet another month in which I should have written more and wasted less time. Unfortunately, I don’t even have the excuse that I was out of the country. I spent most of my time at work, investigating my criminal caseload. There’s nothing quite like invading the homes of those less fortunate and more cockroach-ridden than you, and telling them that they’ve committed a federal crime and they better fess up so you can throw them in jail. I mean really, the fun times never end.
This guy, Doug, with whom I’ve been working a lot lately, even saved me from getting a cockroach in my hair on a recent case. I was leaning against the wall, the cockroach was busy walking down the wall, and inches before the two of us meeting, Doug sends out the warning. I am eternally grateful. In fact, Doug even went one step further and got on his hands and knees in the kitchen to go through the trash in search of evidence for my case. All in a days work, baby, yeah.
In the life o’ Ryan outside of work, Vince and I have been keeping busy. On June 14, Vince formally graduated from Drexel University with a Masters Degree in Software Engineering. Of course, we didn’t attend the ceremony, but we reminisced about it on June 15th when we attended his cousin Bruno’s graduation party – he just finished up at the naval academy. Vince’s favorite part? The jealousy that comes from wishing you too could be paid for flying planes for a living. My favorite part? The MUMMERS!!!! They came, umbrellas and all, from our old stomping ground of South Philadelphia. For those of you who wonder – what the hell is a Mummer?! – I have the following for you: http://mummers.com/. They have links for all the Mummers clubs.
Well, we spent that Sunday afternoon with Vince’s Mom, Joe, Grandmom, Grandpop, and we even saw his sister Nicole and her husband Christian for a few seconds (before they quickly departed to “go take care of their new puppy”).
Oh shoot, I just figured out that I got the dates all wrong…not that you care, but Vince did officially graduate on June 14, but Bruno’s graduation was the Sunday before, on the 8th. Now don’t you all feel better knowing the right dates – but even more so that Ryan is losing her mind at such an early age?
The day before Bruno’s party, we were scheduled to attend Field Day Fest here in NY – an all day music festival held at Giants Stadium. The headliner was Radiohead, but also scheduled were Beth Orton, Beastie Boys, Elliott Smith, Blur, Underworld, Liz Phair and Beck. Originally it was supposed to be a two-day camping event in a huge field in Calverton, NY, but there were problems with permits at the last minute and they changed the venue to Giants Stadium and reduced to festival to one day.
To make matters worse, god cried all over us all day. In other words, it poured. So Vincent and I decided to attend the show later in the day, in an effort to stay out of the weather but still see the bands we wanted to see. I saw about ten minutes of Elliott Smith, who really did not impress me at the time, and then we went to our seats in the stadium to wait for Beck to come on.
Oh yes, I waited and I waited. Vince went out to buy me a hot dog. And then I waited again. After about a half hour of thinking the stage crew was setting up for Beck, the girl next to me says, “You know Beck isn’t playing right? He went to the hospital.” And it was true. Beck was accidentally hit by a stage crew member who was carrying something while watching Blur play and suffered from some minor rib damage – although nothing was broken. Eventually the Beastie Boys came on – now, I’ve seen the Beastie Boys play before and I know they are absolutely brilliant when it comes to producing their records. They make sounds and harmonies nobody else would even consider that end up sounding fabulous. All that aside, they suck. More than Hoover, they suck. They cannot sing. They do not dance. I am not entertained.
After about twenty minutes of deliberating, Vince and I went home, missing our chance to see Radiohead. We just could not wait the two hours until they came on stage.
So now I am actually ready to talk about Vince’s graduation weekend. We went to the Shore and staid at his father’s house in Margate. We rode bikes and shopped for the apartment on the Bay in Ventor – Vince’s father had some work done on the apartment and threw everything out so we had to buy a new couch, table, chairs, mattress and spring box, and bed frame. Vince and I even had the pleasure of digging through all the “wonderful” piles of god-knows-what that were still in the apartment. We were supposed to pick out things to throw away, but it turned into a case of us picking out things to keep. There was almost nothing we needed. Sometimes I laugh at how similar Vincent and his father are: they both like to collect things and then, even though they don’t even remember they have it, they don’t want to throw anything away. Personally, I think that your belongings mean more to you the fewer you have. It’s like that law in economics of diminishing returns. The more you have of something, the less you appreciate it. Know what I mean, jellybean?
Now I say all this because when we got back to the apartment a few weeks later, the Senator hadn’t allowed Ruth to throw away half as much as we wanted to. I was amused.
So that was my weekend.
The following weekend, or the last weekend in June, Vince and I spent our first weekend on the town. Saturday found us at Café Gitame for brunch, a quaint little French shop down in the West Village. We walked around window shopping for a short while before attending our first Broadway show: Baz Luhrman’s La Boheme, adapted from the opera and set in the 1950s. Vince adored it, as he adores the opera of the same title, but I loathed it. It was incredibly difficult for me to stay in my seat and not walk out on it like Starr and I did when we went to the ballet. If it weren’t for the fact that Vincent was so enthralled, I would have run, not walked, to the nearest exit (which just so happened to be directly to my left – not that I was looking for one, mind you).
So then we window-shopped some more and ended up meeting my friend Andrew for dinner. Down from Massachusetts for the weekend, Andrew was visiting with his old high school buddies who now live in NYC. We even brought him back to my apartment for a drink before he returned to his gallivanting with the boys. Andrew says, and I quote, “You have a very nice apartment, I must say. One of the best that I've seen out of all my friends, and certainly the one with the most posters/photos of breasts on the wall.” Now if that isn’t an advertisement that will pull all the customers in, I don’t know what is!
That Sunday we devoted to museums. Lucky for us, we made it to only one. The Museum of Sex. It certainly was an adventure just getting there. Apparently, the Museum of Sex is on the Gay Pride parade route. Vince and I had to cut off some transvestites and boys in drag to run across the street without being run down by a float! It was a scream! We only took a few photos, but there we were: in the midst of gay boy heaven.
The museum was incredibly interesting. And that means a lot coming from someone who really hates museums. I can go through something like the Met, or the Louvre for that matter, in about 30 minutes. I am too bored to do anything but yawn and run through the exhibits. But there, at MoSex, I read every last article on the wall and watched every last porn (and yes, there was porn – all the classics, I’ll have you know!). It was very educational. (Did I mention that was the first time I’d ever seen porn in public? I just can’t get over it!!!)
We must have finished with MoSex sometime around 6PM, and we spent another half hour or so with the tarot card reader sitting in the lobby, right by the packets of “Dicklets” and the Betty Paige cut-out dolls. Much like La Boheme, Vince was enthralled and I was skeptical. Every time the tarot lady tried to figure me out, I gave her a blank look. Vince, on the other hand, kept nodding and grinning. Her readings were quite good, if not somewhat general, but her numerology was WAY off. And she even calculated the wrong number for Vince, and then told us about it. It was like, blah blah blah for ten minutes and then, “Oh, that’s the wrong number, but you’re still… and the same still holds true.” Excuse me?
So Vince and I hit a boutique somewhere on Fifth Avenue, near to the Museum, and then it was off to an Irish Pub, across the street from the Empire State Building. And so we ended our weekend.
Finally, the 4th of July. Starr, Vince and I were off to the Shore – this time to the apartment in Ventnor. Lucky for us, they were just finishing up painting and we could move in. A quick stop to Bed, Bath and Beyond for the much needed bedding and we were in like Flynn. Starr and I spent the entirety of the 3rd cleaning the house. Remember how I said the Senator refused to throw everything out? Well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
Then we celebrated with a little party of steamed clams and corn on the cob, on the deck by the bay. Beer, wine and everything fine…
Vince and Starr’s friend, Kara, joined us from Philly on the 4th. She brought her boyfriend Angel, and two friends: Rob and Eddie. They called themselves “New York Ricans” and added all the spice we needed to our little party of seven. Most of the day was spent on the beach, drinking fresh-squeezed orange juice and vodka (Starr’s tip of the day: As long as it is fresh-squeezed, you can’t taste the alcohol – and it’s true!). Then we joined the huge 4th of July BBQ, held by the Ruth and Mitchell, the Senator’s head staff members who have a condo in the same building as Vince’s apartment.
After tasting the food and swilling some beer, we seven packed up an Igloo of Rolling Rock and headed out on “Friends,” one of the Senator’s boats. We headed for the ocean to see the fireworks…and that, my friends, is that.
So the rest of the time at the Shore was more sun, bike riding every morning, more fresh-squeezed and vodka on the beach, and a ticket for Vincent for having a headlight out on his car (ha ha!).
And so, you can now consider yourselves basically caught up on my life and history. We are spending another weekend in the wonderful world of Inwood, where we intend to catch up, clean up, and ride our bikes. Good times, my friends, good times…
Tuesday, June 10, 2003
So I forgot a few things! First of all, I completely failed to mention who it was that I was in Egypt protecting. As you may have noticed, had you tuned into CNN once in a while, both President Bush and Colin Powell were in Egypt for some Middle East negotiating this past week. Well, I was there, making sure Powell got an undisturbed night’s slumber. Yes, yes, that is the excitement that is a midnight shift!
However, it may delight you to know that he hardly ever sleeps (damn those military boys!) and neither does his staff. Everyone is up during all hours of the night – and here I was thinking we were the only people crazy enough to do that!
In other news, Prince Bandhar was also staying at the Hyatt where we were. We were in a villa on one side of the resort, and he was in a villa on the other side. Apparently there were a few more important people staying there as well, but I didn’t pay enough attention to catch their names. I was too busy with my own protectee.
Also, the other thing I forgot to mention was that on the way home I had a nine hour layover in Cairo. What that meant for us was that we had nine hours to explore Cairo. So we rented a van, and finagled our way onto some horses at 3AM. The horses led us to the Sahara, and the Sahara led us to the pyramids. Yes folks, your little country bumpkin has seen the pyramids! And I wasn’t even self-righteous until after the whole affair, when one of my fellow DS guys informed me that the only reason I wasn’t allowed to have the reins of my horse was because I am female. The nerve!
Of course, you don’t want to hear about that. You want to hear about the Sphinx, which could probably fit into a New York closet. I was disappointed that it is only a mere stone when viewed next to the pyramids. It’s a strange, strange thing. The sphinx is actually bigger on Looney Toons…
So, with the little extra time we had after our journey into the Sahara, we went to this little club at the Hilton Cairo. We got a few drinks, danced a little, and got our partying tushies back to the plane. It wasn’t until later that the guys realized they had been in a gay bar and began to regret their adventure! Ah, but I laughed!
Okay, so that’s really all that I left out. You don’t need to hear about the part where I flew for seventeen hours or so…
However, it may delight you to know that he hardly ever sleeps (damn those military boys!) and neither does his staff. Everyone is up during all hours of the night – and here I was thinking we were the only people crazy enough to do that!
In other news, Prince Bandhar was also staying at the Hyatt where we were. We were in a villa on one side of the resort, and he was in a villa on the other side. Apparently there were a few more important people staying there as well, but I didn’t pay enough attention to catch their names. I was too busy with my own protectee.
Also, the other thing I forgot to mention was that on the way home I had a nine hour layover in Cairo. What that meant for us was that we had nine hours to explore Cairo. So we rented a van, and finagled our way onto some horses at 3AM. The horses led us to the Sahara, and the Sahara led us to the pyramids. Yes folks, your little country bumpkin has seen the pyramids!
Of course, you don’t want to hear about that. You want to hear about the Sphinx, which could probably fit into a New York closet. I was disappointed that it is only a mere stone when viewed next to the pyramids. It’s a strange, strange thing. The sphinx is actually bigger on Looney Toons…
So, with the little extra time we had after our journey into the Sahara, we went to this little club at the Hilton Cairo. We got a few drinks, danced a little, and got our partying tushies back to the plane. It wasn’t until later that the guys realized they had been in a gay bar and began to regret their adventure! Ah, but I laughed!
Okay, so that’s really all that I left out. You don’t need to hear about the part where I flew for seventeen hours or so…
Monday, June 09, 2003
Hey everyone! I want you all to know that I am NOT in Egypt anymore. I have been home since last Thursday, after a long, hard week in the Middle East. So yes, Yael, I was only a stone’s throw away from where you now live, but I didn’t have an inch of wiggle room in which to meet up with you in your home town. Sorry, my dear…
As for the rest of my trip in Egypt, I spent two days flying out to Sharm El Sheikh, three days working, and then two days flying back to New York. The first night we arrived, we all met up and went out on the town. That meant that we got ripped off by the taxi driver, who then ripped us off again by sending us to his friend’s/brother’s/cousin’s restaurant. The food was sub-par, but I did learn about 7 words of Arabic from one of the waiters. Of course, we sat outside on the rug-covered chairs, where people were smoking hookahs and the like (I thought I had seen the last of those at my last party at Pi Lamb!). More of our group joined us later and we went drinking until the wee hours of the morn.
That is when the brilliant idea hit a few of us to go swimming in the Red Sea. Many, many gouges later – thanks to the coral – we were kicked out of the water by the local Navy and allowed to spend the rest of our morning in the swimming pools. Which is precisely where we watched the sun rise. Then, before our coworkers could awaken and find us out, we ran back to our rooms!
Somewhere around Tuesday of last week, I went snorkeling for the first time. Yes, I donned a wet suit, goggles and flippers. Stop laughing. No, really. I mean it. Did I mention I have a gun?
In any case, I went snorkeling. At first, my mask didn’t fit me properly and all this water came into my eyes, temporarily blinding me as the copious amounts of salt burned my very corneas. But I got over that when Ari gave me his mask. Then I had to master the whole snorkel concept. Let me tell you how TERRIBLE the Red Sea tastes. Just when I began to be able to open my eyes without pain…
Finally, I got the gear working properly and I started swimming around. And around. And over the coral. I saw one big blue fish, half my size, and Ari made me touch a jellyfish, but other than that, I think I could find better things to do with my time. Under the sea is no place for me! Especially when you have to swim over coral that is only a foot away – after gouging my feet all to heck that first night, I was not looking forward to scraping my underbelly all along the coral! No, Sam I am, I do not like green eggs and ham…
Did I mention how annoying the hotel staff was? I mean, helpful? Since I was working midnight shifts, I slept during the day. Of course, that meant that the housekeeping staff was obliged to call me at least six times to schedule a time when they could come in and clean. You see, they noticed that I had turned on the privacy light…. Hurumph!
But I am not bitter. I think it is because I am the only one who returned from our trip completely hydrated and without a burn. There’s something about men that makes them stupid – they drink, they sit in 100+ degree weather, and they burn to a crisp….all rather humorous really.
And so I am home again. Back to the grindstone, and incidentally, back to a city that hasn’t seen the sun in months. What a change!
Here’s to sunnier times…
As for the rest of my trip in Egypt, I spent two days flying out to Sharm El Sheikh, three days working, and then two days flying back to New York. The first night we arrived, we all met up and went out on the town. That meant that we got ripped off by the taxi driver, who then ripped us off again by sending us to his friend’s/brother’s/cousin’s restaurant. The food was sub-par, but I did learn about 7 words of Arabic from one of the waiters. Of course, we sat outside on the rug-covered chairs, where people were smoking hookahs and the like (I thought I had seen the last of those at my last party at Pi Lamb!). More of our group joined us later and we went drinking until the wee hours of the morn.
That is when the brilliant idea hit a few of us to go swimming in the Red Sea. Many, many gouges later – thanks to the coral – we were kicked out of the water by the local Navy and allowed to spend the rest of our morning in the swimming pools. Which is precisely where we watched the sun rise. Then, before our coworkers could awaken and find us out, we ran back to our rooms!
Somewhere around Tuesday of last week, I went snorkeling for the first time. Yes, I donned a wet suit, goggles and flippers. Stop laughing. No, really. I mean it. Did I mention I have a gun?
In any case, I went snorkeling. At first, my mask didn’t fit me properly and all this water came into my eyes, temporarily blinding me as the copious amounts of salt burned my very corneas. But I got over that when Ari gave me his mask. Then I had to master the whole snorkel concept. Let me tell you how TERRIBLE the Red Sea tastes. Just when I began to be able to open my eyes without pain…
Finally, I got the gear working properly and I started swimming around. And around. And over the coral. I saw one big blue fish, half my size, and Ari made me touch a jellyfish, but other than that, I think I could find better things to do with my time. Under the sea is no place for me! Especially when you have to swim over coral that is only a foot away – after gouging my feet all to heck that first night, I was not looking forward to scraping my underbelly all along the coral! No, Sam I am, I do not like green eggs and ham…
Did I mention how annoying the hotel staff was? I mean, helpful? Since I was working midnight shifts, I slept during the day. Of course, that meant that the housekeeping staff was obliged to call me at least six times to schedule a time when they could come in and clean. You see, they noticed that I had turned on the privacy light…. Hurumph!
But I am not bitter. I think it is because I am the only one who returned from our trip completely hydrated and without a burn. There’s something about men that makes them stupid – they drink, they sit in 100+ degree weather, and they burn to a crisp….all rather humorous really.
And so I am home again. Back to the grindstone, and incidentally, back to a city that hasn’t seen the sun in months. What a change!
Here’s to sunnier times…
Friday, June 06, 2003
[06/01/03 4:08:00 AM (local time) | Ryan Janda]
I am writing from Egypt and thought I’d start off the month with all of my friends and family, even if I won’t have a chance to post until I return to the states. Again, or for the very first time, I am writing from Sharm El Sheikh in Egypt, which is a little old resort town on the Red Sea, and I am terribly homesick.
The place is, of course, beautiful. We are staying at the Hyatt and you can view pictures and the like on the internet at www.sharm.hyatt.com. Then you will know the kind of “hell” in which I am trapped.
But for those of you who are not willing to explore the place on your own, I will describe it for you. Imagine the desert. Stretches of sand for as far as the eye can see. In the distance are red mountains. There is only one road that runs through the entire city. And it isn’t until you step inside the lobby of the Hyatt that you can even see water. And there it lays, at the bottom of a perfectly manicured hill with several layers of pools and a waterslide – a field of blue that stretches out to the horizon: the Red Sea.
Apparently this place is really popular with divers and snorklers. We are right on a reef – which has already managed to cut up the bottom of my feet when we were swimming in the Red Sea (like high schoolers playing hookey) during the wee hours of Saturday morn.
Other than the water though, this place isn’t really on my list of things to do. There is no indigenous population of Sharm, everyone working here having been trucked in from outlaying villages and the like every morning. The whole city was built to cater to Western, particularly European, sensibilities and there isn’t much to do beyond visiting the local Hard Rock Café – which inexplicably becomes a night club late at night – and a few casinos and bars.
I have been amusing myself by learning a few words in Arabic and wandering around the resort. But that is honestly where the fun ends for me. I am still at work, and I still work with some of the most unenlightened men on the face of the planet. It’s not really because they’re terrible people, but they sure do know how to make a girl feel incredibly left out of the party. I am feeling a bit dissociated and all I want is my Vincent!
Maybe by the time I leave I will have sampled the fun of the on-site spa and health club, and perhaps snorkled, so then I will have more to speak at long length about. But, as it is, I am working midnight shifts, which are just as exciting as they sound, and I am still suffering from the two days of flying that it took to get here (yes, I left on Thursday and arrived on Saturday). I will have to get back to you on the excitement and enthusiasm.
So, without further ado, I take my leave. I curtsey, I blow kisses, and I pirouette off stage left…
I am writing from Egypt and thought I’d start off the month with all of my friends and family, even if I won’t have a chance to post until I return to the states. Again, or for the very first time, I am writing from Sharm El Sheikh in Egypt, which is a little old resort town on the Red Sea, and I am terribly homesick.
The place is, of course, beautiful. We are staying at the Hyatt and you can view pictures and the like on the internet at www.sharm.hyatt.com. Then you will know the kind of “hell” in which I am trapped.
But for those of you who are not willing to explore the place on your own, I will describe it for you. Imagine the desert. Stretches of sand for as far as the eye can see. In the distance are red mountains. There is only one road that runs through the entire city. And it isn’t until you step inside the lobby of the Hyatt that you can even see water. And there it lays, at the bottom of a perfectly manicured hill with several layers of pools and a waterslide – a field of blue that stretches out to the horizon: the Red Sea.
Apparently this place is really popular with divers and snorklers. We are right on a reef – which has already managed to cut up the bottom of my feet when we were swimming in the Red Sea (like high schoolers playing hookey) during the wee hours of Saturday morn.
Other than the water though, this place isn’t really on my list of things to do. There is no indigenous population of Sharm, everyone working here having been trucked in from outlaying villages and the like every morning. The whole city was built to cater to Western, particularly European, sensibilities and there isn’t much to do beyond visiting the local Hard Rock Café – which inexplicably becomes a night club late at night – and a few casinos and bars.
I have been amusing myself by learning a few words in Arabic and wandering around the resort. But that is honestly where the fun ends for me. I am still at work, and I still work with some of the most unenlightened men on the face of the planet. It’s not really because they’re terrible people, but they sure do know how to make a girl feel incredibly left out of the party. I am feeling a bit dissociated and all I want is my Vincent!
Maybe by the time I leave I will have sampled the fun of the on-site spa and health club, and perhaps snorkled, so then I will have more to speak at long length about. But, as it is, I am working midnight shifts, which are just as exciting as they sound, and I am still suffering from the two days of flying that it took to get here (yes, I left on Thursday and arrived on Saturday). I will have to get back to you on the excitement and enthusiasm.
So, without further ado, I take my leave. I curtsey, I blow kisses, and I pirouette off stage left…
Saturday, May 10, 2003
My apartment is beginning to look more lived in than a homeless person’s cardboard box. And that’s the good news.
Right now I am sitting at the largest desk I have ever owned, ruminating on what to say to all of you. I have let yet another month pass me by without writing anything on my blog. I am sure you all missed me immensely (and if you didn’t, don’t feel like you need to inform me – okay, Nishchay? Oh wait, Nishchay never reads anything over three lines…)
So I’ve started my career as a Special Agent. It has taken me all over the Bronx, Brooklyn and Queens – even downtown Manhattan – but I couldn’t for the life of me tell you where I’ve been. This city is monstrously huge. Suffice to say that I’ve been to neighborhoods where English isn’t spoken, and already fingerprinted several lawbreakers. I even attempted to speak Spanish, which I am convinced isn’t as bad as I thought once. Of course, none of this has worked for any of my cases, which are going to take more work to close than it takes to bring my cats to the vet.
The good news is that I get to start next week by completely abandoning my casework. I am going on my first protection detail, just in time for Michelle’s visit to the Big Apple. My timing is amazing!
I must admit that I am more than a little nervous to head out and do protection. The butterflies in my stomach all but kept me awake last night. Despite the fact that I do not know how long I will last in this job, I don’t want to screw up. I am sure things will turn out to be easier than I currently think, but it is the waiting and anticipation that always screws with your mind, isn’t it?
Oh, before I forget, here’s a great website for all of you who don’t really understand what I do for a living: http://ds.state.gov/faq/#q1
In other news, Vincent has kidney stones. Yup, and you thought I was the only one! We’ve been living through every last kidney cramp for the past week now and I sincerely hope we are through. I don’t know if I can handle a sick Vincent for very much longer. However, sick as he may be, we are driving out to Philadelphia today so we can attend his father’s Harry S. Truman Ball, a big fundraising event for Vince Sr.’s campaign. We were supposed to leave yesterday, but Vincent decided to completely pass the stone last night and we thought it best to stay put. Oh the things you didn’t want to know! (But how I delight in telling you…)
And that’s the long and short of that. Most of you missed my graduation ceremony, but da’ momma, Dan, Vince, and San did not. They were regaled with such uplifting commentary as, “Thanks for your patience while your loved ones were in training. Now we can send them to Syria and Iraq, and you will never see them again. Let me thank you in advance for your sacrifices.” It was truly motivational.
But then it was over. The whole ceremony was anti-climactic. I am always looking for more fulfillment, something more final that doesn’t sit in my stomach like a brick. That graduation certainly wasn’t it. My class didn’t even have one final soirée to kick off our new careers together. No matter what I’ve said about them before, I will miss them all (especially now that Herald is no longer a member of BSAC 72). They are the only people who will always know what I’m talking about when I mention those seven months of my life.
I spent the rest of graduation weekend with the movers and my mom. How soon my first on-my-own apartment was reduced to a place I can’t even recognize as mine. There were so many good things about living by myself that it was hard to witness. I almost didn’t believe that I was actually moving to New York. I know it is crazy to say this about an inanimate object, but I loved my apartment. I miss my apartment.
So I took my mom to the zoo. Armed with my Zen tea from the Starbucks across the street, I gallivanted, I named all the birds in the bird house, and I oohed and aaahed over everything. I love going to the zoo! Even if it did start raining. Of course, the rain began as soon as we were at the absolute furthest point from the entrance and, more importantly, our car. Not that it mattered. Vincent bought me an ice cream Snickers bar and we began the long, slow trek back in the rain. There is nothing like spending time in the rain with the ones you love. I even got another Zen tea as a treat for making it to the other side.
Then there was New York. Boxes everywhere, and I had to start work. You all know what transpired after that. I wrote it at the beginning of the email, just to ruin the chronology you all have come to cherish within my blogs.
And that’s that. I must now go shower, now that the Super has fixed the water heater and I can be clean again! Then it’s off to Philadelphia for Mommy’s Day weekend – remember to call your mommies!!!
Right now I am sitting at the largest desk I have ever owned, ruminating on what to say to all of you. I have let yet another month pass me by without writing anything on my blog. I am sure you all missed me immensely (and if you didn’t, don’t feel like you need to inform me – okay, Nishchay? Oh wait, Nishchay never reads anything over three lines…)
So I’ve started my career as a Special Agent. It has taken me all over the Bronx, Brooklyn and Queens – even downtown Manhattan – but I couldn’t for the life of me tell you where I’ve been. This city is monstrously huge. Suffice to say that I’ve been to neighborhoods where English isn’t spoken, and already fingerprinted several lawbreakers. I even attempted to speak Spanish, which I am convinced isn’t as bad as I thought once. Of course, none of this has worked for any of my cases, which are going to take more work to close than it takes to bring my cats to the vet.
The good news is that I get to start next week by completely abandoning my casework. I am going on my first protection detail, just in time for Michelle’s visit to the Big Apple. My timing is amazing!
I must admit that I am more than a little nervous to head out and do protection. The butterflies in my stomach all but kept me awake last night. Despite the fact that I do not know how long I will last in this job, I don’t want to screw up. I am sure things will turn out to be easier than I currently think, but it is the waiting and anticipation that always screws with your mind, isn’t it?
Oh, before I forget, here’s a great website for all of you who don’t really understand what I do for a living: http://ds.state.gov/faq/#q1
In other news, Vincent has kidney stones. Yup, and you thought I was the only one! We’ve been living through every last kidney cramp for the past week now and I sincerely hope we are through. I don’t know if I can handle a sick Vincent for very much longer.
And that’s the long and short of that. Most of you missed my graduation ceremony, but da’ momma, Dan, Vince, and San did not. They were regaled with such uplifting commentary as, “Thanks for your patience while your loved ones were in training. Now we can send them to Syria and Iraq, and you will never see them again. Let me thank you in advance for your sacrifices.” It was truly motivational.
But then it was over. The whole ceremony was anti-climactic. I am always looking for more fulfillment, something more final that doesn’t sit in my stomach like a brick. That graduation certainly wasn’t it. My class didn’t even have one final soirée to kick off our new careers together. No matter what I’ve said about them before, I will miss them all (especially now that Herald is no longer a member of BSAC 72). They are the only people who will always know what I’m talking about when I mention those seven months of my life.
I spent the rest of graduation weekend with the movers and my mom. How soon my first on-my-own apartment was reduced to a place I can’t even recognize as mine. There were so many good things about living by myself that it was hard to witness. I almost didn’t believe that I was actually moving to New York. I know it is crazy to say this about an inanimate object, but I loved my apartment. I miss my apartment.
So I took my mom to the zoo. Armed with my Zen tea from the Starbucks across the street, I gallivanted, I named all the birds in the bird house, and I oohed and aaahed over everything. I love going to the zoo! Even if it did start raining. Of course, the rain began as soon as we were at the absolute furthest point from the entrance and, more importantly, our car. Not that it mattered. Vincent bought me an ice cream Snickers bar and we began the long, slow trek back in the rain. There is nothing like spending time in the rain with the ones you love. I even got another Zen tea as a treat for making it to the other side.
Then there was New York. Boxes everywhere, and I had to start work. You all know what transpired after that. I wrote it at the beginning of the email, just to ruin the chronology you all have come to cherish within my blogs.
And that’s that. I must now go shower, now that the Super has fixed the water heater and I can be clean again! Then it’s off to Philadelphia for Mommy’s Day weekend – remember to call your mommies!!!
Monday, April 07, 2003
Bet you’re beginning to wonder what I’ve been up to in the past, oh, I don’t know, two months! You see, it’s been nothing but excitement really. I won’t bore you too much with the details, but suffice to know that I am still in training, and will soon be done. Somehow the last six months seem to be more like six years, in regards to the amount of things we’ve incorporated into it and the amount of people who have been in and out of my life. Vince finished his graduate degree in software engineering and we are now in the process of unpacking our new home in New York. We attended Vince’s sister’s wedding in March and also his dad’s 60th birthday bash – all in the same weekend! And now I am in DC jumping through the last of the hoops required to get my badge and my gun. What a strange feeling….
Most of you will understand what I’m talking about when you remember our college days, and how after each year at school you felt like you lived through a decade. All those stories, all those experiences, and only a small set of people really understood what you were talking about half of the time. Then came graduation, and it didn’t seem real that we were all going our separate ways.
Well, I’m there again. All those months behind me, many more to come, but in three weeks I graduate. I don’t know what to say. I never thought I would come to appreciate these 21 people as much as I do at this point. We never would have met on the street, or in a bar, or anywhere else (I guess that has as much to do with location as anything else – the people in my class come from as far as California and the Phillipines) – but we all came together at the same point in our lives to take part in the whole wide wonderful world of Diplomatic Security training.
I must say that it has been more frustration than anything else, working for the government. Most days we feel like we’re working against the government, and that the government pushes back just as hard against us – however, we’ve made it this far and it is such an accomplishment. I still don’t know what I was thinking to sign up for this long strange trip (and I am sure Vince is still hoping I’ll change my mind), but I do know that I’m willing to wait it out and see.
Even now it sounds exciting to know that I have the potential to be sent overseas to be in charge of an embassy; to experience new cultures and meet new people; maybe even get in some language training along the way… These are the main reasons why I initially applied to this job, and the gun was just another added bonus to make me look cool while traveling.
It has just been so hard to do this without Vincent, and without my usual network of support. All my closest friends are always too far away to be around for those midnight drinking sessions, and Vince is stuck in New York starting a new job and settling in to a new place. The crowd of men with whom I work are just as likely to get me in trouble as not, and if I decide to make a career out of this I am going to have to watch what I do around them. After all, many of them are former military, uptight Republican types who all seem to condemn any kind of behavior I have and will dive into. So I am more of an oddity than anything else – not that my old comrades don’t find me odd, but at least they acknowledge their oddness too. Well, whatever. I don’t mean to discredit their character or complain about the people with whom I work. They really are a good bunch of guys, but a few sour grapes can ruin the whole bunch, and we cannot yet tell who are the friendlies and who is running to tell on us at every moment. Which wouldn’t normally matter, except that every little thing that goes onto your record ruins your chances of promotion…
Anyway, what am I babbling about??? I wanted to get a little somethin’-somethin’ out there for you guys to remind you that I am still alive and breathing. So yes, I am. Doing both.
Important dates for you guys: 11 April 2003, Ryan’s official swearing-in ceremony (to the foreign service); 24 April 2003, Ryan’s graduation from Basic Special Agent Training Class 72; 26 April 2003, Ryan officially moves to New York!!! And 28 April 2003, Ryan’s first day as a Special Agent… yay…!
Well, that’s all, folks! Gotta love me…
Most of you will understand what I’m talking about when you remember our college days, and how after each year at school you felt like you lived through a decade. All those stories, all those experiences, and only a small set of people really understood what you were talking about half of the time. Then came graduation, and it didn’t seem real that we were all going our separate ways.
Well, I’m there again. All those months behind me, many more to come, but in three weeks I graduate. I don’t know what to say. I never thought I would come to appreciate these 21 people as much as I do at this point. We never would have met on the street, or in a bar, or anywhere else (I guess that has as much to do with location as anything else – the people in my class come from as far as California and the Phillipines) – but we all came together at the same point in our lives to take part in the whole wide wonderful world of Diplomatic Security training.
I must say that it has been more frustration than anything else, working for the government. Most days we feel like we’re working against the government, and that the government pushes back just as hard against us – however, we’ve made it this far and it is such an accomplishment. I still don’t know what I was thinking to sign up for this long strange trip (and I am sure Vince is still hoping I’ll change my mind), but I do know that I’m willing to wait it out and see.
Even now it sounds exciting to know that I have the potential to be sent overseas to be in charge of an embassy; to experience new cultures and meet new people; maybe even get in some language training along the way… These are the main reasons why I initially applied to this job, and the gun was just another added bonus to make me look cool while traveling.
It has just been so hard to do this without Vincent, and without my usual network of support. All my closest friends are always too far away to be around for those midnight drinking sessions, and Vince is stuck in New York starting a new job and settling in to a new place. The crowd of men with whom I work are just as likely to get me in trouble as not, and if I decide to make a career out of this I am going to have to watch what I do around them. After all, many of them are former military, uptight Republican types who all seem to condemn any kind of behavior I have and will dive into. So I am more of an oddity than anything else – not that my old comrades don’t find me odd, but at least they acknowledge their oddness too. Well, whatever. I don’t mean to discredit their character or complain about the people with whom I work. They really are a good bunch of guys, but a few sour grapes can ruin the whole bunch, and we cannot yet tell who are the friendlies and who is running to tell on us at every moment. Which wouldn’t normally matter, except that every little thing that goes onto your record ruins your chances of promotion…
Anyway, what am I babbling about??? I wanted to get a little somethin’-somethin’ out there for you guys to remind you that I am still alive and breathing. So yes, I am. Doing both.
Important dates for you guys: 11 April 2003, Ryan’s official swearing-in ceremony (to the foreign service); 24 April 2003, Ryan’s graduation from Basic Special Agent Training Class 72; 26 April 2003, Ryan officially moves to New York!!! And 28 April 2003, Ryan’s first day as a Special Agent… yay…!
Well, that’s all, folks! Gotta love me…
Thursday, February 20, 2003
Today was a mix of I don’t know what. I assuaged my soul a little today by telling my supervisor what an unprofessional dolt that classmate of mine is (the one I mentioned in my 2/18/03 blog). Thankfully my supervisor took me seriously and I can take further measures at any time I wish. He appeared to be very supportive and that relieves a lot of the tension I felt over this problem. I didn’t want to acquire the wrong kind of reputation around the office because that could damage my career down the line, and I also wasn’t prepared to let this problem individual know who complained because I can’t be sure how he would react. So it is nice to know that I have the opportunity to take action at any time I wish. In the meantime, my supervisor offered to work it out so that this problem classmate and I are never paired together again during the rest of training. So far, so good.
Yet most of my day was wasted for no apparent reason. First we had to sit around from noon til 2PM just to be told that the rental cars we need for our practical examination on Monday through Wednesday are ready, and that we can invite five guests to our graduation. Oh, the government at work!
Then Todd and I were supposed to run some routes this afternoon and do some advance work on a site we’re visiting during the practical exercise. Well, the site is a cemetery. And guess what? You can’t even get in there because of all the snow!!! What a disaster!!! We tromped around in the snow in our suits for about a half hour, trying not to fall on our tushies and still find the gravestones. That didn’t work.
So then we start driving our routes. Whattya know? We get caught in rush hour traffic and somehow get trapped in downtown Washington. By our fifth try, we somehow managed to depart the city. And thus we gave up driving. I came home. And so there I remain.
I should be working on my “homework” right now, but I can’t seem to concentrate on it. It seems that every day after work I am destined to have a bone-crushing headache. Somehow that is not conducive to working on, well, work. Who knew?
At least yesterday I was able to enjoy a nice cold beer before the head rush began. And it was a delicious beer to boot. I was telling my coworkers that I haven’t had a beer that tasted SO good, or was SO needed as the one I drank last night. It wouldn’t have mattered if I was drinking sludge water tinged with vodka, it would have been fabulous! There was something so deep-in-the-bones relaxing about that beer that I think it may go down as one of the best things I’ve ever drunk in my entire life. Now if only they could bottle that feeling up and sell it in the mass market. I’d give up my firstborn, Rumplestilskin.
In other news, Vincent was in New York today. My papisan is now in place and I imagine that it looks quite at home in our empty living room. At least the guest bed is also in place so we don’t actually have to fight over who gets to sleep in the papisan. I think the only person who is frustrated by this new arrangement is our little baby, Daisy (our kitty cat). She thinks that we have gotten rid of her chair – which was the footrest for the papisan. Won’t she be surprised when we box her up and ship her out to New York!?? (Oh yeah, and she’ll also be more than a little pissed off.)
Anywho. I have now misplaced my desire to write any further. Email me if you want to talk – just don’t expect a response. It’s all about monologues, baby, monologues.
Talking to myself,
Ryan
Yet most of my day was wasted for no apparent reason. First we had to sit around from noon til 2PM just to be told that the rental cars we need for our practical examination on Monday through Wednesday are ready, and that we can invite five guests to our graduation. Oh, the government at work!
Then Todd and I were supposed to run some routes this afternoon and do some advance work on a site we’re visiting during the practical exercise. Well, the site is a cemetery. And guess what? You can’t even get in there because of all the snow!!! What a disaster!!! We tromped around in the snow in our suits for about a half hour, trying not to fall on our tushies and still find the gravestones. That didn’t work.
So then we start driving our routes. Whattya know? We get caught in rush hour traffic and somehow get trapped in downtown Washington. By our fifth try, we somehow managed to depart the city. And thus we gave up driving. I came home. And so there I remain.
I should be working on my “homework” right now, but I can’t seem to concentrate on it. It seems that every day after work I am destined to have a bone-crushing headache. Somehow that is not conducive to working on, well, work. Who knew?
At least yesterday I was able to enjoy a nice cold beer before the head rush began. And it was a delicious beer to boot. I was telling my coworkers that I haven’t had a beer that tasted SO good, or was SO needed as the one I drank last night. It wouldn’t have mattered if I was drinking sludge water tinged with vodka, it would have been fabulous! There was something so deep-in-the-bones relaxing about that beer that I think it may go down as one of the best things I’ve ever drunk in my entire life. Now if only they could bottle that feeling up and sell it in the mass market. I’d give up my firstborn, Rumplestilskin.
In other news, Vincent was in New York today. My papisan is now in place and I imagine that it looks quite at home in our empty living room. At least the guest bed is also in place so we don’t actually have to fight over who gets to sleep in the papisan.
Anywho. I have now misplaced my desire to write any further. Email me if you want to talk – just don’t expect a response. It’s all about monologues, baby, monologues.
Talking to myself,
Ryan
Tuesday, February 18, 2003
I spent quite some time – all of 3 minutes – debating over whether or not to destroy my blogspot and all that is the web version of me. The reason, you ask? Well, I did somehow obtain some sort of clearance for my current job so I think it best not to display things all over the world wide web. Yet I also realize that I can water the content down a bit – put some ice in my lemonade, so to say. So that is what I have decided to do. And here, my dear cohorts, are the fruits of my endeavors…
First and foremost, everyone should know that I am moving to New York! No, not right this second, but within in the next few months or so. Vince and I already have an apartment, and if you really want to know where I live, check your inbox. If I haven’t sent you an address, you can either beg me for the information, or sulk because I don’t like you enough to give you the key to my personal life.
So, everyone is invited! We have a 3-bedroom, 2-bathroom castle in Manhattan – and there’s even a room designated for guests! Yes, you can come to New York and have your own bedroom! Without going to a hotel even! It’s amazing…
And that’s all I have on that. In other news, training is still moving forward. I think I am dealing well with the whole locker room mentality of my training class, but there is one individual I am still hoping will disappear into the great wide unknown. Anyone have any connections with the mafia? Because this guy is a total jerk (language toned down for our young viewers)! He is single-handedly the most chauvinistic person I have ever met, and for no good reason he has it out for me. Most days I am able to just ignore his presence and avoid any sort of conversation, but on those few occasions where it can’t be avoided, I am the recipient of all his small-penis anger and frustration (oops, that just slipped out). His very existence makes me bristle, even as I am as polite and professional as I can be. Ergh.
Sigh. There is nothing better to talk about in the office. I continue to muck on, hoping that the work in my field office will be more satisfying than training, and wishing that all of mankind would just grow up and stop talking about their bodily functions and the women they sleep with behind their partner’s backs.
That is really the large and small of my career.
As for Valentines Day, just recently passed, I spent the actually day of love in training until about 7PM in West Virginia. Then I ate cold cuts with my Vincent and slept through the three-hour car ride back to Philadelphia. We couldn’t eat a fancy dinner because I had an ultrasound appointment the following morning (check-up for my one remaining kidney) and that requires that you not eat for twelve hours prior. The plan was to celebrate Valentines Day on Saturday at the Shore, eating lobster at Robert’s, and relaxing in the whirlpool bathtub. However, that didn’t happen.
I woke early on Saturday morning and checked my pda. Vince and I were scheduled to be at Jane’s at 5PM for Nicole’s engagement party. So there went our idea of lobster. Not that I’m complaining! Jane’s party for Nicole ended up being quite cozy, and the food was delicioius!!!
In any case, this Valentines Day I was the happy recipient of a star. Yes, Vincent bought me a star and named it Pookah-Ryan, after me. So, someday when we humans are out in space, colonizing and visiting like on Star Trek, part of the shuttle navigation will include something to the effect of, “It’s just ten light years past Pookah-Ryan.” Isn’t that exciting?!
Vincent also has a practical side, so I also received a new palm pilot. He decided that my need for color far outweighed anything else. So there you have it: my new Handspring Treo. It’s tiny and efficient – AND colorful!!
So there was that. And then the snow. Vincent pulled a muscle in his bum while shoveling, and I, like the donkey that I am didn’t pack snow boots (for that matter, I don’t even own snow boots!). But that didn’t stop me from shoveling a walkway from the car to the house! Oh, what fun!
And that rounds me out. So I’m off to the fair!
First and foremost, everyone should know that I am moving to New York! No, not right this second, but within in the next few months or so. Vince and I already have an apartment, and if you really want to know where I live, check your inbox. If I haven’t sent you an address, you can either beg me for the information, or sulk because I don’t like you enough to give you the key to my personal life.
So, everyone is invited! We have a 3-bedroom, 2-bathroom castle in Manhattan – and there’s even a room designated for guests! Yes, you can come to New York and have your own bedroom! Without going to a hotel even! It’s amazing…
And that’s all I have on that. In other news, training is still moving forward. I think I am dealing well with the whole locker room mentality of my training class, but there is one individual I am still hoping will disappear into the great wide unknown. Anyone have any connections with the mafia? Because this guy is a total jerk (language toned down for our young viewers)! He is single-handedly the most chauvinistic person I have ever met, and for no good reason he has it out for me. Most days I am able to just ignore his presence and avoid any sort of conversation, but on those few occasions where it can’t be avoided, I am the recipient of all his small-penis anger and frustration (oops, that just slipped out). His very existence makes me bristle, even as I am as polite and professional as I can be. Ergh.
Sigh. There is nothing better to talk about in the office. I continue to muck on, hoping that the work in my field office will be more satisfying than training, and wishing that all of mankind would just grow up and stop talking about their bodily functions and the women they sleep with behind their partner’s backs.
That is really the large and small of my career.
As for Valentines Day, just recently passed, I spent the actually day of love in training until about 7PM in West Virginia. Then I ate cold cuts with my Vincent and slept through the three-hour car ride back to Philadelphia. We couldn’t eat a fancy dinner because I had an ultrasound appointment the following morning (check-up for my one remaining kidney) and that requires that you not eat for twelve hours prior. The plan was to celebrate Valentines Day on Saturday at the Shore, eating lobster at Robert’s, and relaxing in the whirlpool bathtub. However, that didn’t happen.
I woke early on Saturday morning and checked my pda. Vince and I were scheduled to be at Jane’s at 5PM for Nicole’s engagement party. So there went our idea of lobster. Not that I’m complaining! Jane’s party for Nicole ended up being quite cozy, and the food was delicioius!!!
In any case, this Valentines Day I was the happy recipient of a star. Yes, Vincent bought me a star and named it Pookah-Ryan, after me. So, someday when we humans are out in space, colonizing and visiting like on Star Trek, part of the shuttle navigation will include something to the effect of, “It’s just ten light years past Pookah-Ryan.” Isn’t that exciting?!
Vincent also has a practical side, so I also received a new palm pilot. He decided that my need for color far outweighed anything else. So there you have it: my new Handspring Treo. It’s tiny and efficient – AND colorful!!
So there was that. And then the snow. Vincent pulled a muscle in his bum while shoveling, and I, like the donkey that I am didn’t pack snow boots (for that matter, I don’t even own snow boots!). But that didn’t stop me from shoveling a walkway from the car to the house! Oh, what fun!
And that rounds me out. So I’m off to the fair!
Tuesday, January 28, 2003
From the desolate confines of West Virginia, here are a few words to light your way by…
Today I have decided to simplify my life. And I know that as my dear Vincent reads this, he is wondering, “How on earth can Ryan simplify her life any more??! She’s already thrown everything of value away…”
Well, my dear, I have taken it upon myself to delete all the excess, trim the fat if you will. I have canceled two credit cards. Yes, I can feel my credit sagging less under the weight of my college loans, and the IRS is breathing a sigh of relief. I am down to three major credit cards: one for work purposes that cannot be destroyed, my American Express (which I believe I will ask to be buried with some day), and another “Oh horse dung! They don’t take American Express” backup. I am breathing large amounts of happiness-inducing oxygen (if you’ve seen Fight Club, then you know why oxygen would make one happy).
For the record, I have used one of my two former credit cards only once, and the other not at all. But it feels like a huge burden has been lifted out of my wallet…
In any case, you’re now probably starting to wonder what I’m doing in West Virginia. I will tell you (however, this message will self-destruct in 30 seconds – gotta love Inspector Gadget!): I am in training. The primary goal of this week is to learn how to drive really fast. It’s amazing, all those times my mom and dad wouldn’t let me drive their cars because they felt my driving was unsafe, and now I am being instructed how to, well, basically, to destroy cars that get in my way. Oh, and I can do that at speeds up to (and over) 100mph. Good times, no?
Of course, the rest of my training class is here with me, enjoying all the splendor that West Virginia has to offer. We are surrounded by only the best: Cracker Barrel, IHOP, Ruby Tuesdays… All the fried food one can handle!
So you see why I am holed up in my room, with a death grip on the remote control and snacking on Fig Newtons. Oh yeah, did I mention that I’m on medication so I can’t even drown my sorrows? NOW I bet you pity me.
The happy news of the week is that Vincent’s birthday is on Saturday. Oh yes, the big 3-4. My baby is getting to be a man! And he’s even planned his very own birthday bash – a select group of his friends will be attending a fabulous dinner at Morimoto, our most favorite-ist sushi restaurant ever! Now if only I could get there from West Virginia in time… (honey, I’m working on it…)
Hmmm.
And that’s all I have to say for the time being. I guess my light is growing dim…
Today I have decided to simplify my life. And I know that as my dear Vincent reads this, he is wondering, “How on earth can Ryan simplify her life any more??! She’s already thrown everything of value away…”
Well, my dear, I have taken it upon myself to delete all the excess, trim the fat if you will. I have canceled two credit cards. Yes, I can feel my credit sagging less under the weight of my college loans, and the IRS is breathing a sigh of relief. I am down to three major credit cards: one for work purposes that cannot be destroyed, my American Express (which I believe I will ask to be buried with some day), and another “Oh horse dung! They don’t take American Express” backup. I am breathing large amounts of happiness-inducing oxygen (if you’ve seen Fight Club, then you know why oxygen would make one happy).
For the record, I have used one of my two former credit cards only once, and the other not at all. But it feels like a huge burden has been lifted out of my wallet…
In any case, you’re now probably starting to wonder what I’m doing in West Virginia. I will tell you (however, this message will self-destruct in 30 seconds – gotta love Inspector Gadget!): I am in training. The primary goal of this week is to learn how to drive really fast. It’s amazing, all those times my mom and dad wouldn’t let me drive their cars because they felt my driving was unsafe, and now I am being instructed how to, well, basically, to destroy cars that get in my way. Oh, and I can do that at speeds up to (and over) 100mph. Good times, no?
Of course, the rest of my training class is here with me, enjoying all the splendor that West Virginia has to offer. We are surrounded by only the best: Cracker Barrel, IHOP, Ruby Tuesdays… All the fried food one can handle!
So you see why I am holed up in my room, with a death grip on the remote control and snacking on Fig Newtons. Oh yeah, did I mention that I’m on medication so I can’t even drown my sorrows? NOW I bet you pity me.
The happy news of the week is that Vincent’s birthday is on Saturday. Oh yes, the big 3-4. My baby is getting to be a man! And he’s even planned his very own birthday bash – a select group of his friends will be attending a fabulous dinner at Morimoto, our most favorite-ist sushi restaurant ever! Now if only I could get there from West Virginia in time… (honey, I’m working on it…)
Hmmm.
And that’s all I have to say for the time being. I guess my light is growing dim…
Thursday, January 16, 2003
So here I am again, without even being prompted by one of you lovely readers for some proof of my existence! I am getting so good at this (but now that I’ve jinxed it…)
Well, I’m finishing up yet another week in the wonderful world of spies and intrigue. And what did I do this week, you ask? Let me tell you. There is nothing more exciting than standing around in subzero temperatures, on some army base, in the middle of the woods, with no bathroom, while two guys who go hunting all too frequently (one of their license plates reads “WEBDFT”) stand around and drink coffee. Oh yeah, and they occasionally send us into this metal shack, four at a time, to go “clear” it of all those bad, BAD paper targets. Then they stop us and tell us that we are doing everything wrong, we correct it, and, well, that’s wrong too. So really, it’s been a good time.
On the upside, the bodily odors of my male classmates have yet to kill me (even when stuck in a cramped van together), I didn’t get frostbite, and I think everyone passed.
The terrible news is that tomorrow I get to be sprayed with OC Spray. You know, I could think of nothing that I would rather do than stand outside in a blizzard (apparently we are scheduled for quite a snow storm tomorrow – IF the meteorologists are correct) and be hosed down with a substance I know is going to make my eyes burn, and my saliva and nose run. Oh how pretty I will be! Mmmmm…can’t wait.
No matter. Last weekend was a little bit o’ fun for me. Starr and Vincent came down to play with me on Friday after work, and my friend Jeff was in town – so we went to the Lebanese Taverna, which, if you ever get the chance, is a fabulous establishment. We left the cripple, i.e. Vincent and his broken toe, in the caring hands of our hostess (who ended up buying him a glass of wine) and went off in search of something to do for the 40 minute table wait. Somehow Starr disappeared (I’m telling you – we need a helmet and a kiddie leash for her!) and Ben and I ended up in front of the skating rink, watching the Zamboni.
Eventually, we all met back up in the Lebanese Taverna. The funniest thing was listening to Starr explain the specifics of freebasing and crack-smoking to our dear friend, Jeff - neither of whom have ever actually tried either of these drugs (thankfully). It was practically a meeting of the minds…
Last Saturday, Vince and I took my little sister, Preyasha, to the movies. I want you all to know that I was allowed to drive, and I did a fabulous job of NOT stalling!!! I love being one of those “cool chicks” that drive stick…
Anywho, Preyasha had the choice between a bunch of hobbits and Leonardo DiCaprio, so we obviously ended up watching “Catch Me If You Can.” I was impressed by the movie, although there is one small aspect of it that drove me crazy (if you’ve seen it, it was the constant “How did you do it? How did you pass the Louisianna bar?” I found the answer to be obvious, and thought Tom Hanks’ character overly pushed the point). However, you will find two wonderful performances by both Hanks and DiCaprio. (For those of you who saw it, “Knock, knock…” is now my favorite joke!)
Sunday was pretty quiet until Vincent and Starr left. Then I met up with Ben, Eric and Estee (who was also in town for a short while) so we could go bowling at the most expensive bowling alley I’ve ever seen. Even the Corona’s cost five bucks! Geez!
However, I did learn how to bowl using the holes in the bowling ball. Thank you Eric! Thank you Benny! And then I only sucked half of the time.
So that’s been my past week or so. I bet you’re really glad you tuned in…
Well, I’m finishing up yet another week in the wonderful world of spies and intrigue. And what did I do this week, you ask? Let me tell you. There is nothing more exciting than standing around in subzero temperatures, on some army base, in the middle of the woods, with no bathroom, while two guys who go hunting all too frequently (one of their license plates reads “WEBDFT”) stand around and drink coffee. Oh yeah, and they occasionally send us into this metal shack, four at a time, to go “clear” it of all those bad, BAD paper targets. Then they stop us and tell us that we are doing everything wrong, we correct it, and, well, that’s wrong too. So really, it’s been a good time.
On the upside, the bodily odors of my male classmates have yet to kill me (even when stuck in a cramped van together), I didn’t get frostbite, and I think everyone passed.
The terrible news is that tomorrow I get to be sprayed with OC Spray. You know, I could think of nothing that I would rather do than stand outside in a blizzard (apparently we are scheduled for quite a snow storm tomorrow – IF the meteorologists are correct) and be hosed down with a substance I know is going to make my eyes burn, and my saliva and nose run. Oh how pretty I will be! Mmmmm…can’t wait.
No matter. Last weekend was a little bit o’ fun for me. Starr and Vincent came down to play with me on Friday after work, and my friend Jeff was in town – so we went to the Lebanese Taverna, which, if you ever get the chance, is a fabulous establishment. We left the cripple, i.e. Vincent and his broken toe, in the caring hands of our hostess (who ended up buying him a glass of wine) and went off in search of something to do for the 40 minute table wait. Somehow Starr disappeared (I’m telling you – we need a helmet and a kiddie leash for her!) and Ben and I ended up in front of the skating rink, watching the Zamboni.
Eventually, we all met back up in the Lebanese Taverna. The funniest thing was listening to Starr explain the specifics of freebasing and crack-smoking to our dear friend, Jeff - neither of whom have ever actually tried either of these drugs (thankfully). It was practically a meeting of the minds…
Last Saturday, Vince and I took my little sister, Preyasha, to the movies. I want you all to know that I was allowed to drive, and I did a fabulous job of NOT stalling!!! I love being one of those “cool chicks” that drive stick…
Anywho, Preyasha had the choice between a bunch of hobbits and Leonardo DiCaprio, so we obviously ended up watching “Catch Me If You Can.” I was impressed by the movie, although there is one small aspect of it that drove me crazy (if you’ve seen it, it was the constant “How did you do it? How did you pass the Louisianna bar?” I found the answer to be obvious, and thought Tom Hanks’ character overly pushed the point). However, you will find two wonderful performances by both Hanks and DiCaprio. (For those of you who saw it, “Knock, knock…” is now my favorite joke!)
Sunday was pretty quiet until Vincent and Starr left. Then I met up with Ben, Eric and Estee (who was also in town for a short while) so we could go bowling at the most expensive bowling alley I’ve ever seen. Even the Corona’s cost five bucks! Geez!
However, I did learn how to bowl using the holes in the bowling ball. Thank you Eric! Thank you Benny! And then I only sucked half of the time.
So that’s been my past week or so. I bet you’re really glad you tuned in…
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